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Perversions and Transgressions

By: Over Stimulated



I think that most people would say that my desires are perverse or disgusting or even cruel, and that's probably why I keep it a secret. Then again, perhaps the secret is what makes it all the more arousing.

I'm not sure what it is that drives us and compels us, that defines what we each determine as pleasurable. At one time I'd have thought the irregular appetites of some individuals were revolting, lacking any understanding of what drives someone to perform acts that to me bring no satisfaction. Now, I've realized that each person is an individual in more ways than people think, and we can only try to attain that which brings pleasure to each of us.

I would have never thought that I would have this certain compulsion if I had not discovered it by accident, an accident that for most people would have been a tragedy, but for me was an awakening. I can still remember the feelings, the confusion, the anger, the shame, being washed away by arousal, by hunger, an excitement I had never felt before. My body tingles when I even think about it, when I remember that first time, more precious to me than anytime after, because nothing compares with that first discovery. 

At the time, I was a pre-med student and only a few months away from being accepted into one of the finer medical schools in the country. I was a diligent student and looked at those who weren't with more than a bit of disgust. I had a keen interest in the human body and always had since I was a child. The body is an eternal puzzle. Some compare the human body to a machine, but I've never seen that. Machines are designed with a single purpose. They can be easily repaired and just as easily discarded. The human body serves many purposes and takes a skilled hand to repair that which it can't easily repair itself. Each body is different. The body is a beautiful work of art. I had long ago set myself the task to discover how it worked, but had realized that I would never completely understand how the body functions. I think nobody ever will. But I had set myself the goal of learning as much as I could, actually enjoying an appetite that could never be satiated.

Being an admirer of the human body I've always taken good care of my own. I have a large frame, 6'3" tall and around 190 to 200 pounds. I have always worked out regularly. I love to feel my own muscles flexing and contracting. I love the shape of the muscles beneath the skin. I'm by no means a narcissist. I take pride not in how I look or how attractive my physique might be to the opposite sex, but take pride in my body functioning at its optimum. As such, I've usually abstained from any chemicals that might injure my body, from cigarettes to alcohol to sugar to hard drugs. But, on occasion, I would allow myself to indulge some, as I did that night I made my discovery. I remember that night well.

I had just finished the second quarter of my senior year. Christmas break was coming and all of the students were partying in an attempt to wash away everything learned that quarter. I went to a party at the rented house of three friends, all of whom were liberal arts majors and so had much practice at partying and wasting their time.

Thomas was a friend of mine from my private school days. He had a startling wit that could only serve him well as an English major and had plans of acquiring a Ph.D. in some branch of the field that I can't remember, and eventually settling for a teaching post at some college, probably as a professor who would have the occasional liaison with one of his more well-endowed and naive female students. Until then, he studied as little as possible and used his wit to get into the pants of as many young women as he could. I had always thought he was a lecherous rascal who would only get himself into trouble, but think he saw himself more as a romantic along the lines of Byron or Joyce.

Thomas's two roommates, James and Patrick, were indistinguishable from each other, and I commonly called one by the other's name. To alleviate the confusion I just called both of them James Patrick or The Other James Patrick and they didn't seem to mind, thinking it some kind of a clever joke that they were only too happy to be a part of. They were both at college to waste some time, pretending to be independent, while flitting away their parents' money on an education they would never use.

I arrived at their house that night when the party was already in full spirits, some popular hip hop song playing loudly enough to shake the wooden boards of the deck that was covered with sweating, smiling students holding cans and bottles and paper cups, cigarette and marijuana smoke sharing equal time in the smoke clouds clinging to the ceiling over the porch. I wondered that the porch didn't collapse under the weight of so many people and wondered if they would even know if it did.

To the party that night I brought my girlfriend and eventual wife, Denise. At the time Denise was a junior and studying psychology, a field of which I was very skeptical, but accepted her astonishing intelligence enough to assume she knew more about the field than I did and so would not squander her education. She was a startling beauty that had caught the eye of many guys on campus. She had long blonde hair that hung well past her shoulders and was held in a ponytail most days as it seemed she was always going to or coming from tennis practice. Her body was athletically supple, her arms and legs long and toned. Her eyes were a breathtaking blue that seemed to captivate those who first met her and she was often accused of wearing colored contacts, but I knew that such a color could not be manufactured, but could only be natural. I always found myself alternately looking at her eyes and her lips. Her lips were full and soft, very kissable, a look that most women use injections to mimic. She was the ideal female, intelligent and strong willed. She took care of her mind and body. She was a gifted athlete and rabid intellectual. I loved to sit with her and talk. I loved to watch her body during her tennis matches. She was an exquisite performer on the tennis court, giving her body over to the stress and demands of the sport. Her muscles were finely toned, her reflexes quick and sharp. She took the same pride in her body as I did, not just as an object to be desired and admired, but also as a wonderful work of art that embodied the soul of its possessor.

In my mind, we were, and still are, a perfect pair. We complement each other in a way nobody else ever could. Neither of us have ever met anyone who could match the standards we have set for ourselves or for our partners. We had both dated some before meeting each other and had been involved in some intimate relationships, but both had kept those to a minimum and been very careful out of respect to our bodies and maintaining the self-control that many of our contemporaries seemed to lack.

That night was an unusually warm night for the time of year and so Denise was wearing a flowing skirt that went halfway down her long thighs. She wore a sweater in case it got colder that clung to her body outlining her breasts that, at a B cup, were probably too large for a female athlete. She had her hair down and curled so that it flowed past her shoulders. All together with her lightly tanned skin and striking eyes and face, she was a vision of beauty, enough to bring out the lust in any male. As we walked up the steps of the porch I noticed the eyes of most of the guys watching her. I've never been jealous or mad of that. I understand men would find her attractive and their hormones give them little choice but to look at her, it's basically involuntary. Plus, I do get a certain amount of satisfaction out of it, knowing that she's with me and wouldn't even consider being with any of the men who stare at her. Perhaps that's male chauvinist pride, but so be it. 

The front door of the house opened into a huge living room that had been stuffed with couches and chairs and tables that fit like a puzzle and made it hard to even navigate the room. A stereo sat in one corner blasting out the music. A few people drunkenly tried to dance in front of it, constantly bumping into furniture and laughing each time. The walls were covered with an odd mix of posters advertising Broadway musicals and Hollywood action flicks.

Thomas was sitting on a couch across the room sandwiched between two co-eds, his arms around both, his head turning from side to side as he was either reciting some poem or dazzling them with an oratory that would astound even the soberest of females. He saw us weaving our way through the maze of his crowded living room and gave one of his few genuine grins. He placed his hands on a knee of each of the girls, pretending to push himself to his feet, excusing himself and promising to return shortly.

"Michael, good of you to come mix with the rabble. How are you this evening?" he said and grabbed my hand to shake it.

"I'm doing well Thomas. It looks like you're doing well also," I said and glanced over his shoulder at the two young women watching and waiting from the couch.

"Love is in the air. After all, this is the season of giving," he said with a wink.

He released my hand and took Denise's hand. "The beautiful Denise. We are privileged to have such a ravishing beauty under our roof," he said and held her hand to his lips. His eyes moved over her subtly.

"Thomas, flattery will get you nowhere," she said, smiling at him.

"I flatter no one. I say only what my heart tells me," he said with a wicked smile and released her hand. He laughed and grabbed my shoulder, dropping the gallant knight act. "I'm just glad you guys could make it. You study too hard and don't get out enough."

"We study just enough. I think you get out enough for all of us," I said.

"I do what I can. There are a couple of kegs on the porch, beer in the fridge, some liquor floating around somewhere, just help yourself," he said.

"Do you want anything?" I asked Denise.

"I wouldn't mind a beer," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "Why not? Quarter's over, might as well celebrate."

"Ah," Thomas sighed. "A woman after my own heart. If ever there was a perfect example of the female specimen, m'lady, you would be it."

She laughed and rolled her eyes. "I think those two girls are waiting over there for you," she said.

"Ah, yes. Melanie and Lisa, two sophomore English majors who desire some tutoring from an older and more experienced senior," he said, glancing back at them. "We were just about to partake of some of the devil's weed, if you would like to join us."

I started to say no when Denise interrupted me. "Sure," she said.

"Really?" I asked.

"I've always wondered what it's like," she said, looking at me seriously.

"Okay," I said, wondering what had gotten into her that night, but deciding if she would try it, then I would as well.

"It's some of the finest weed this state has to offer," Thomas said. "Come on to The Den and I'll light it up." He walked back to the couch, apologizing to the two girls for leaving them alone for so long.

"I'll go get us a couple of beers," I told Denise.

She stretched up and kissed me quickly on the lips, tasting faintly of strawberries. "Hurry back. Don't leave me alone with him too long. I might have to belt him one."

"He's harmless," I said. "Well, at least to you. Those two girls better watch out though."

I made my way to the kegs on the porch and got at the end of the line. James Patrick was working the keg and waved me to the front. He poured me two beers as the others in line eyed me suspiciously. I thanked him before I walked away and he said he'd see me again soon. I doubted it, but he was right. He saw me soon and often.

I made my way to the back room, an odd, small room that was more a walk-in closet than a room. Thomas had brought in several oversized pillows and cushions and set them up around the room. Thomas called it his opium den or just The Den.

Thomas, the two girls, Denise, and a couple of people I recognized from other visits to the house were sitting around the room, lounging on the cushions. Thomas was sitting between the two girls, leaning over a large water bong. The bong had been painted with what Thomas said were scenes from A Midsummer's Night Dream, but looked more like an x-rated scene of rape and beastiality.

Denise was sitting between one of Thomas's girls and the wall. I gave her a beer and sat at the only empty spot against the far wall, reclining comfortably in a nest of pillows. 

"I'll do the honors," Thomas said. 

He flicked a lighter, placed it to the bowl, and sucked at the end of the bong. The water bubbled wildly as he sucked on it and the chamber filled with smoke and then he cleared it. As far as I knew he was the only one who could clear the chamber of that monstrous bong. He passed it to the girl to his right, who hit it, pulling barely any smoke into the chamber and cleared it.

I watched as Denise took it next, wondering if she really was going to smoke it.

"We have a first timer here. Want me to show you how to do that?" Thomas said.

"No, thanks, Thomas. I think I can figure it out," Denise said. 

She sat up on her knees to lean over the bong and her skirt slipped high up on her thighs. I saw Thomas smile and I shook my head.

Denise lit the lighter and sucked on the bong hard, making the water bubble and filling the chamber with thick smoke. Then, she emptied the chamber entirely. I couldn't believe it.

"Bravo!" Thomas yelled and clapped his hands. "That's how you do it, ladies and gentlemen!"

Denise exhaled and started coughing hard. She grabbed her beer. I found out why when it was my turn with the bong and started coughing as well. I emptied my beer trying to soothe my scorched throat.

"I could use one too," Denise said, holding up her empty cup and smiling at me.

"I get the point," I said.

I stood up and made my way out of the room on wobbly legs. James Patrick didn't make me wait again and just handed me the beers, saying he'd see me again, and I agreed with him. I figured it was going to be a long night.

When I got back to The Den the bong had made it around the room again, and everyone was laughing. Thomas had his arms around the girls as one of them was hitting the bong.

"That girlfriend of yours is a smoke fiend," he said as I handed her the new beer. "I knew there was a party girl lurking underneath that straight-laced exterior."

Thomas packed the bowl again and the bong made some more rounds. By that time I was feeling lightheaded and couldn't wipe the smile from my face. It almost hurt to laugh, but I didn't care. Thomas pulled a guitar out and began playing it, making lurid versions of different songs and taking requests. I lost count of the number of times I retrieved beers, each time sitting back down on the pillows harder, until I didn't want to move for anything. 

The bong circled the room several more times until I had to pass on it, my throat too dry and rough to smoke anymore. I watched Denise loosen up more and more as the night wore on, laughing louder. At one point she got up to dance and attracted plenty of attention as she moved her hips and lifted her skirt up her legs. I laughed with everyone, too high to care. She collapsed back on the pillows laughing, showing off her white thong underwear. 

People came in and out of the room until it was just Denise, Thomas, one of his two girls, and me. Denise had moved beside Thomas and they were talking and laughing. The one girl was laying back on the pillows with a smile on her face and Thomas's hand high up on her thigh. 

Eventually the combination of alcohol and marijuana got the better of me and I passed out, snuggled into the pillows with my head against the wall. When I woke up the house was quiet and just Thomas and Denise were in the room, lounging back on the pillows, Denise on her back and Thomas on his side looking at her as they talked. 

Thomas looked over at me and laughed. "He's alive!" he yelled and jumped up. He ran over and tried to hug me. Denise was laughing hard. He held my shoulders and looked at me. "We thought you were dead. We mourned your death with another bowl."

"I am so tired," I mumbled.

"Just fooling with you," he said. "Everyone's almost gone by now. If you want you can sleep in my room. I don't mind crashing in here."

"No, that's all right," I said, trying to push myself to my feet. "I'll just sleep in the living room on a couch."

"Whatever you want, man," he said. "There's a couple people in there, but they won't bother you. They'll probably end up crashing there too."

He helped me to my feet and stood beside me as I stumbled out of the room, almost tripping over the pillows.

"You all right, Denise?" I mumbled, staring at her through weary eyes. "Do you mind if we stay here for the night?"

She was laying on the pillows on her back, a big smile on her lips, her eyes closed, her sweater pulled up so she could lay her hands on her bare stomach. "That's fine, baby," she said. "We can't go anywhere." She laughed and lounged back in the pillows.

"Okay, honey," I said.

Thomas followed me out to the living room. The lights were dim and a few people were sitting around talking, the room covered with empty cups, bottles, and cans. 

"Hey guys, what's going on?" James Patrick said, slouching on one couch beside a girl who seemed to be sleeping.

"Michael is just looking for a place to crash," Thomas said.

I fell onto one of the couches and immediately closed my eyes. My body felt heavy and all I wanted to do was sleep.

"It is about that time," I heard James Patrick say as I drifted back to sleep.

I slept hard and woke up later when I felt somebody shaking me. 

"Hey man, are you awake?" I heard Thomas saying.

I couldn't respond, still drifting between sleep and consciousness.

"Ah, you're out," he said and stopped shaking me.

I tried to ask him what he wanted, but the words wouldn't come out. As he walked away I opened my eyes. The room was dark, but I could see the silhouettes of people laying on the couches. The music had been turned off and the house was silent except for the snoring of the people on the couches. I lay there for a while, trying to wake up, and wondering what Thomas wanted. Later I would realize he was just trying to make sure I was soundly asleep and instead had woken me. 

I ran my tongue around my dry mouth. My bladder felt full. I needed to urinate and get a drink of water. I pushed myself up to a sitting position and rubbed my eyes. My head felt heavy and I could feel a headache coming. I wanted to just go back to sleep, but forced myself awake to see what Thomas wanted and to find the bathroom.

Shakily, I pushed myself to my feet and staggered towards Thomas's room. I looked in and saw a person sleeping on his bed, one of the two girls, but he wasn't there. I started to walk to The Den on the other side of the house and stopped at the bathroom on the way. I closed the door and emptied my bladder, sighing with relief. I took a drink of water from the faucet and forgot to flush the toilet.

Feeling a bit better with an empty bladder, a wet mouth, and regaining some equilibrium I made my way to The Den. Somehow I made it back through the living room without bumping into anything and started walking down the hallway, past the closed doors of the other bedrooms. A dim light was creeping through the half-closed door to The Den. 

I heard something as I approached the door and stopped for an instant, my hand extended to push the door open further. I heard a moan and what sounded like a wet kiss and bodies rustling around on the pillows. 

Dread filled my body immediately. I could already see it in my head, see Denise and Thomas kissing and touching as Thomas slid into her. Anger is an emotion that grips the body immediately and without warning, an emotion that I rarely gave myself over to, but at that moment I knew that if what I thought was true than there would be no controlling it. I clenched my teeth together and walked silently towards the door, wanting to catch them at it, see them doing it, burst in on them, and make a scene.


Perversions and Transgressions Ch. 02



Seeing your girlfriend, your fiancée, your future wife, being raped in her sleep by your friend probably should cause some kind of response like anger at the friend and compassion for the girlfriend. But, I had none of these. The only thing I felt after watching the rape was stimulation. At first, I thought that I should be repulsed by my own response. I knew how I should feel, but I just didn't feel that way.

I often thought of that night. I played it over and over in my mind and every time it aroused me again. I had never seen anything like that before and had never thought it would excite me. If I had thought of it before, I'd have assumed it would bring the expected response. I should have become the angry boyfriend. I should have protected her honor. But, I didn't and I didn't regret that decision.

I was surprised that my girlfriend, Denise, knew nothing about it or at least she never showed that she knew about it. My friend, Thomas, however, became distant. He couldn't look her in the eye anymore and could barely bring himself to talk to me. I supposed that after the act he now looked back with regret and found it hard to face us. I wanted to tell him that I was fine with it and indeed wanted to find a way to make it happen again, but I couldn't find a way to approach him. So, eventually we lost touch all together. Soon after that I left for medical school anyway and lost touch with most of my friends from my college years.

At medical school, I found that I had trouble at times concentrating on my studies. My thoughts seemed to drift to that night. I imagined different scenarios how I could make it happen again. I began to form plans in my mind. I tried to tell myself I was only daydreaming and would never actually do it, but my plans became so concrete that I started to think I could. 

One night when Denise had come to visit me, I masturbated over her while she was sleeping and played out the fantasy in my head. I was pleased to find that my moaning and ejaculation on her bare pubic area did not rouse her from her sleep. She was a very deep sleeper, which raised my excitement even more as it seemed my fantasies were more possible as a reality.

I began to make my plans. In my mind I tried to pretend that it was just a fantasy, that I would only go so far, and that the actual act would never happen, that I was only going through the motions to enhance the fantasy. But, as my plans came together, it became obvious what I was going to do. I had let my fantasies and desires overcome any morals I might have had. My degradation was beginning.

My plan involved a male student in my Gross Anatomy class who seemed to have rather low morals and a large libido. He bragged about his past sexual conquests, often using the cadavers to point out certain body parts he had manipulated or penetrated to achieve satisfaction. His name was Randall. He was the son of a surgeon and had been pushed down his path by his father. He resented it and used every opportunity to show just how much he disliked his situation. Despite that he was probably the most intelligent student in the class after me. He retained the knowledge easily and always scored high on examinations. It seemed he was going to be a doctor whether he wanted to or not.

Randall's attitude was one of expecting to get everything he wanted, everything had come easy to him and he expected that to never change. He was lazy, disrespectful, spoiled, and entirely immoral. I liked him the moment I met him. He was exactly who I was looking for.

The moment I realized this was during a class while we were dissecting the cadaver's liver. He started in on a story about a certain young woman whom he had deflowered in his Corvette after plying her with enough alcohol to leave her insensible to his advances. His main complaint was that he hadn't known she was a virgin and if he had known then he would have removed her from the car before penetrating her because the blood stains on the seats had made it impossible for him to continue owning the car. So, he traded it for a Viper. His story mentioned nothing of what happened to the young woman.

My task then became how to setup the encounter. I considered just asking him, but thought that would be rather inappropriate and also that would take some of the thrill out of it. So, I had to think of a way to bring them together, get her unconscious, and lure him into raping her. My plan was actually a simple one. 

The professor of Gross Anatomy was a Dr. Engelhart, a rather gruff and serious man, who took enjoyment in the discomfort of his students. But one day a year he would discard his anti-social behavior to invite the students and professors to his rather large home for an elegant dinner and social mixer. It was understood that to decline this would be detrimental to one's student career and besides it was a good way to become known to the professors.

My plan was to invite Denise to Dr. Engelhart's party, bringing her to my med school for the weekend. I would take her shopping for a new dress, an elegant and sexy dress, a dress not too revealing that she wouldn't wear it and would even try to entice her to wear some lingerie beneath like stockings and a garter. At the party she would definitely drink some alcohol as it was almost required and I would sneak a crushed Valium into her drink. My mother had a standing prescription for Valium, so I had been sneaking her pills for years though I rarely took them and was more apt to give them to friends. The combination of alcohol and Valium would make her very tired, but not unconscious. By the end of the night she would be able to barely stay on her feet, at which time I would offer to drive Randall home since he would definitely be drinking a lot. Then, I would say I had to take her back to my apartment since she wasn't feeling well and upon arrival I would ask him to help me with her, invite him into the apartment and then invite him to stay the night. I would then put her to sleep in the spare bedroom that adjoins the living room. I would close the door to the living room so that I could apply a cloth soaked in chloroform to her face to be assured that she would stay unconscious. I would then leave the room, leaving the door open so he would have a clear view of her laying in her lingerie on top of the covers, offering a temptation I thought he would not resist. Then, I would retire to my own bedroom, down the hallway from the living room, and watch from a crack in the door until he took the bait. After a few minutes I would quietly approach the spare bedroom door to watch him take advantage of her. The plan was not perfect. It relied upon many factors, the most important ones being getting him to my apartment and hoping he would take the bait.

That night, I found that there were other factors of which I should have taken better account. The night did not go as planned. But sometimes when we are working to achieve a goal we stumble upon something even better.

Denise arrived at my apartment that Saturday afternoon. I took her shopping for a new dress. I suggested a strapless dress, cut low at the chest without being too revealing and with a slit up one side from the bottom to about mid-thigh. She is typically a very reserved woman, but she knows that she has a beautiful, athletic body from her hours spent on the tennis court for the tennis team at the school, and takes a guilty pride in her body. She was reticent of wearing the dress, but she soon accepted, as I knew she would, since it was appropriate for the occasion, beautiful, and expensive. Convincing her to wear the lingerie beneath it was a bigger challenge. Eventually, she agreed to the stockings and garters after she made sure that the top of the stockings would not be visible at the top of the slit of the dress. After trying them all on, she even became excited, thinking it would lead to a night of passion once we returned. Guilt threatened to settle in at the trust I was about to break, but my desire was stronger.

During the party my plan seemed to be working perfectly well. We arrived and she caught the eye of every man in the room. This was something I was used to and fully expected that night. She had fixed her long, blonde hair in loose curls that spiraled down past her shoulders and drew the eyes to her face, her neck, and eventually to her bust which was pushed up high by the bra so that one could just see the tanned skin of her chest and top of her breasts, just revealing enough to be titillating but not enough to be inappropriate, a subtle line at such occasions. When she walked on the high heels her leg parted the slit enough that one could easily see past her knee, but not too high on her thigh. 

I found Randall by the bar and his eyes immediately swept over her, appraising her with no pretension of subtlety, which pleased me very much. Denise grabbed my arm, alerting me that she had noticed his gaze at her and wanted to let him know that she was clearly with me. I got us both a glass of wine and struck up a conversation with him. His eyes moved away from me often to look at her. She began to fidget and eventually pulled me away. I was unhappy, thinking that I had gone too far and she would be so repulsed by him that I would never have the chance to stick close enough to him to offer the ride home later. 

My fears were eliminated when he was seated across from us at the table, allowing us to converse with him easily while allowing him to watch her. He was more cunning and tried to not stare at her as much, perhaps picking up on her discomfort. Before and during dinner she had two small glasses of wine that she drank very slowly. She was not much of a drinker though she was prone to imbibe on some occasions. It seemed that night she was more concerned with being sober. I didn't force her to drink, reassured in the knowledge that the Valium I would sneak into her wine after dinner would be more than adequate.

After dinner we retired to one of the larger living areas in Dr. Engelhart's house which had several couches and chairs arranged to promote conversation. The bar had been moved into that room. I escorted her to a chair on one side of the room and retrieved two glasses of wine. I walked into the hallway and once satisfied I was alone poured the crushed Valium, which I had kept in my pocket wrapped in a small piece of foil, into her drink and used my finger to stir it until it dissolved. I brought her the drink and stood beside her chair for the rest of the evening.

I was surprised when I found that many of the professors found their way to our spot of the room. I had expected to have to roam around to pay my obligatory greetings to each and engage in some inane chatter about my future hopes after medical school. But, drawn by her beauty they came to us and found that she would not converse about the same boring topics they had endured that night and found her to be charming and lovely. We had quite a crowd around us at times as students were drawn to the professors. Randall planted himself in the small circle as well.

My plan took its first bad turn when Dr. Engelhart made his way beside her chair and took almost her entire attention away from the party, causing Randall to soon drift away to other corners with ladies who provided him with the attention he craved. Dr. Engelhart did not look like the professor I remembered from class. His outdated and ill-fitting wool suits were replaced by an expensive and well-tailored suit fit to his frame which was surprisingly more trim than I had expected. His hair was actually styled and with the gray streaks along the sides he even looked distinguished. He looked ten years younger than in class. He was in a jovial mood, which I had never seen and he was even witty at times. She turned towards him, crossing her legs, to give him her full attention to a conversation that was more engrossing than any other that night. I knew she had drank too much wine when she crossed her legs and the slit opened up just barely past the top of her stocking, giving a bare hint of lovely, tanned thigh. I knew that if she were entirely sober she would have noticed and indeed would have never crossed her legs in the first place. 

I tried to find a way to pull her away from her conversation with Dr. Engelhart, but instead became involved in it as well. I watched Randall from the other side of the room and saw one of the more advanced female students shamelessly and drunkenly flirting with him, her laughter breaking up conversations throughout the room. I was incredulous.

I became even more annoyed when I thought that Denise was actually flirting with Dr. Engelhart, laughing a bit too much at his jokes and turning her body towards him in an open posture suggestive of sexual acceptance. The slit in her dress opened further and now there was no mistaking the fact that she indeed was wearing black stockings. I think now that perhaps my perception was off because she has never really flirted with anyone before or since that occasion so perhaps it was just the alcohol making her more friendly, but at the time I was very irritated with her.

Eventually I was happy to see Dr. Engelhart's attention pulled away to attend to some task and Randall soon took his place with the female student at his side. Conversation began again and my hopes began to rise. 

Then, the second incident occurred that diverted my plan. Denise became ill. She swooned in the chair and almost fainted. She fell to the side and I grabbed her to hold her up. She held her hand to her head and excused herself. People gathered around to see what was wrong. Dr. Engelhart approached quickly and kneeled beside her. She said that she had a bit of a cold from playing tennis in the cooler weather and that perhaps the wine was affecting her stronger. Dr. Engelhart looked into her eyes and felt her pulse and asked her several questions. She assured him she was fine and that she just needed to lie down.

I decided I would have to take the opportunity or lose it. It was much earlier than I had wanted. I told her I would take her back to the apartment. I was then going to ask Randall to help me with her to the car and then ask him to come back to my apartment to help me further in an attempt to keep my plan together. But, she declined, insisting she would be fine if she could just lie down, giving her excuse that she didn't want to take me away from the party which was too important and which I was enjoying. 

Dr. Engelhart offered a bed in a spare bedroom and she took it. I was afraid this would derail my plan all together. But, I soon decided that it might be for the best. I could stay for the rest of the party, waiting until it broke up, the whole time keeping Randall occupied and away from the flirtatious, female student, and when it came time to leave I would have an excellent excuse to ask for his assistance. 

I helped Denise stand and Dr. Engelhart lead us to a spare bedroom on the other side of the house. The spare bedroom was larger than most master bedrooms and was furnished with a king size bed, wardrobe, desk, and small entertainment center with television and DVD player. I laid her on the bed and removed her high-heeled shoes. She thanked us, settled into the bed, and seemed to immediately fall asleep. 

Dr. Engelhart took her pulse again and listened to her breath. He assured me that she would be fine. He said that ladies would swoon at times, it was just part of their chemical make-up and he laughed. We walked from the room and he shut the door quietly. Dr. Engelhart assured me that he would check on her occasionally just to make sure she was doing all right.

Later, I would do more research and find that I had given Denise too much Valium. The Valium with the wine was a more potent combination than I had expected, especially for an accomplished athlete like her who's higher metabolism assured that the alcohol and Valium would be absorbed into her system quickly and affecting her sooner and more severely than I had assumed.

The party continued and I kept to my plan to occupy Randall, an almost impossible task as without Denise as bait his attention was continuously drawn to the female student. As the party began to wind down I took the opportunity to ask Randall if we would help me get her home that night, hoping to intercede in any plans he and the female student had been making. He coolly agreed and then turned his attention away. I only hoped that he would keep to his promise.

I decided to check on Denise to see if she was waking yet. I was deciding if I should use the chloroform or not when we got back to my apartment. Of course, I did not want to put so many chemicals into her body that she would have difficulties and I must state this was not only because of a fear of being caught. Even if my actions seem to prove otherwise, I was and am still very much in love with Denise and though I may indulge my own fantasies I endeavor to make her as safe as possible.

When I got to the spare bedroom I noticed that the door was ajar like someone had closed it, but the latch had not engaged and so the door had drift open. This puzzled me at first, but I remembered that Dr. Engelhart had said he would check on her and remembered that he had not been at the party when I had just left. 

I approached the door and started to push it open, but immediately stopped. My breath caught in my throat and I went completely still, afraid to make any sound.

Dr. Engelhart was indeed in the room, but he was doing more than just checking on Denise. He was performing oral sex on her. His bare butt was pointed into the air as he knelt on the bed between her legs, his pants and underwear crumpled at his knees, while his head bobbed and swayed at her crotch.

Luckily for me the hallway was dark and so very little light crept into the room from the open door and he must have been thoroughly involved in his work because he hadn't responded to the slight squeak of the door hinges or my steps down the hallway.

I stood in the open doorway for at least a minute, astonished at the sight, and tried to keep myself entirely still and quiet. I tried to decide what to do, if I should back away slowly to hide better or if I should stay put for fear of making more noise. My mind had already made one decision and that was to watch. I had only to decide how to do it.

Finally, I slowly backed up, but left the door open halfway to where I had opened it already. I didn't want to risk trying to close it and making more noise. Plus, I would be able to get a better view and I wouldn't have to peek through a small open crack, a position which would be all too obvious to someone walking by that I was indeed spying on someone.

I moved so that half of my body would be blocked from his sight by the door and would allow me to move out of the way quickly if he were to look behind him. At the time though, he was too involved to look behind him. 

He was licking her pussy with vigor, his head moving up and down. I could even hear the wet noise of his tongue sliding between her labia, flicking her clit, and plunging into her. They were lying in the center of the bed with her legs spread wide apart. I looked at her face and her eyes were closed with her head tilted to the side and her arms limp on the bed. She was still entirely unconscious. He had her dress pushed up past her waist and folded under her, exposing the entire length of her legs up to her hips. The black stockings had the usual effect of making her legs look even longer and making the skin of her upper thighs that much more enticing. He used one hand to pull her underwear to the side for access to her pussy and the other hand slid up and down her leg, moving along the bare skin of her upper thigh and down over her stocking, his fingers plucking at the garter strap. He was licking and sucking her pussy eagerly, moaning and panting. 




Perversions and Transgressions Ch. 02



I felt myself getting erect and grabbed my penis through my pants to move it to a more comfortable position. I was aggravated that I had to stand out in the open like this and so was unable to free my member to stroke it and even considered doing it anyway, but decided that was entirely too risky. If it had gone as planned I'd have been at my apartment watching Randall doing the same and would have been able to stroke myself, but I found the unexpected turn was even more exciting than I had expected my plan would be.

She moaned and her lips parted with a soft gasp. He immediately stopped and lay still, peeking up her body from between her legs. She made no other sound and movement, but just continued breathing deeply.

He sat up and crawled up her body, his eyes looking down at her face. He held his body over her like he was trying to not touch her at all. He turned his head to the side and listened to her breathing for several seconds, being careful to not move or to touch a part of her body. 

Then, he said her name in a normal speaking voice and then louder, but she didn't move at all, her breathing didn't even change. So, he bent down and kissed her, tentative at first, his lips barely touching her lips, and then he pressed his mouth to her harder, opening her mouth. He gently lowered his hips between her legs. His arms started to tremble, making the bed shake subtly and he sank down onto his elbows and grabbed her head in his hands to turn her face up towards him to kiss her more. He started kissing around her mouth and then her jaw and then her neck, moving his hips between her legs, rubbing his penis against her crotch. He let her head fall to the side as he kissed the side of her neck, one of his hands sliding down her body to cup her breast through her dress.

I looked at her face, into her closed eyes, and wondered if she could feel anything deep down in her mind somewhere, if she was dreaming of it, if her body was reacting to his attentions, if sometime later she would remember this and think it was a dream. I looked into her face and thought she looked so peaceful, so beautiful, the paragon of lust and ecstasy, and I thought I had never seen her look so sexy, had never been so attracted to her, and I looked at her full, red lips still moist from his saliva, and I traced the length of her neck, her wonderful, soft neck, and then his head moved into my vision as he moved his passionate kisses across her neck.

He was breathing hard, his hips thrusting hard. He was agitated and impatient like he didn't want to take that last step, but was so excited that he wouldn't be able to stop. Then, with a pleading groan, he quickly reached down between their bodies, nudged her legs further apart with his knees, and then slid into her.

He let out a satisfied, calm laugh and held himself still inside of her. He put his hands on either side of her body and held himself over her to look down at her, a big, relieved smile on his lips. He was looking for any movement from her, any sign of her waking, but she laid unconscious, still breathing those deep, sleeping breaths.

Satisfied she was insensible to his invasion he started to move in and out of her in a slow, long stroke that made his body tremble each time he pulled out so that the head of his cock was rubbing against her opening. He groaned softly and his lips quivered each time he slid into her, pressing his hips tight against her.

"Oh God," he moaned. "So tight, so wet ...," his whispers dying down so that I couldn't hear him.

I held onto the doorframe tightly and grabbed myself through my pants. I slid my fingers along the underside of my erection. I wanted to free my cock so bad, free it and stroke it, and cum as he would cum, I wanted to match his strokes with my own while I watched him violate her. I looked up and down the hall and listened intently but heard nothing and saw no one, but still I didn't dare to expose myself, it was too risky. I bit my lip and tried to hold back my frustrated whimper.

He pushed her legs wider with his knees and I could see between their legs, see the length of him as he withdrew from her and slid back into her, pressing himself against her. It seemed he was trying his best to remain calm and move slowly, his body trembling with excitement, wanting to thrust into her hard, but trying to be quiet and gentle to not wake her, which just increased the tension and drew out the pleasure until it was almost unbearable.

He placed a hand on her breast and squeezed and then slid his hand up to the neckline of her dress to try to pull it down to expose her breasts, but the dress wouldn't open any further and I worried he might tear it, but he let it go and grabbed her breast through the dress again. Her body started to rock as his strokes became more urgent, thrusting into her a bit deeper and quicker, the bed making lazy, high-pitched, soft squeaks. His hand slid down from her breast, down the side of her body to her bare thigh, and he slid his hand up to her butt, and over her hip.

He turned his head to the side and I stepped out of sight, afraid he would see me, hoping he wouldn't notice that the door was partly open. I took the chance to look up and down the hall again and heard no one coming. I began to wonder how long it would be before someone would notice that the host of the party was absent and go looking for him, especially his wife. 

I turned back to the room and from the sound of the soft squeaks of the bed I knew he hadn't seen me and hadn't stopped. I carefully looked around the edge of the door and saw his head was still turned to the side, but he was looking down the length of their bodies. He was watching as he slid his hand up and down her thigh and hip, watching his cock drive up and into her, watching her hips being pushed back and forth with each thrust. 

He started moving faster, shoving into her harder, as he gave into it, worrying less about her waking. The bed started to squeak louder and I could hear his groans and his fevered panting. He was an old man and this was probably the most exertion he had experienced in a long time, not to mention just the thrill and excitement of it. 

Then he thrust his hips forward hard, trying to shove his penis as deep into her as he could like he was afraid she might pull away from him. He sat up and grabbed her legs. He held her legs in his hands, spread out straight to the side while he kneeled between them and started fucking her again. His eyes roamed all over her body, from where his cock slid in and out of her, to her spread thighs, along the length of her well-toned legs, up her body to her breasts which shook inside of her dress, and to her blissfully naïve face. 

I started rubbing myself harder through my pants and felt my body becoming so hot I began sweating. This was starting to drive me as mad as it was Dr. Engelhart. I wanted a release as bad as he did, but I didn't dare to expose myself as he was too afraid of making noise to start pounding into her as he wanted. So, time drew on, longer than it should have, too long to be safe. He continued huffing and puffing as he plunged into her, his eyes moving alternately from the point of penetration to her face. I thought she must have been aroused in her sleep because I could easily hear the wet sound of her pussy clinging to his cock. I looked at her face and saw no sign of that arousal. Her head rocked back and forth with his urgent thrusts, but her face was as peaceful as one would expect from a deep, restful sleep.

Then, he let out a loud groan that almost made me jump. I stepped back and looked along the hallway again, frightened someone might have heard him and come to investigate. I looked back into the room and saw him lean forward over her, setting his hands on the bed beside her. One of her legs slid down to hook over his arm and the other leg lay against his shoulder so that her foot stuck up in the air over his head. He started driving down into her, shoving into her deep, and making the bed squeak loudly and the headboard thump against the wall. 

He was making such a racket that I stepped back from the door so I could make an easy exit or at the least make it look like I was just walking down the hall to anyone who might come by, but I couldn't walk away yet, I had to watch, no matter how loud it got or how long it took I would have to stand there and watch. His head drooped down to his chest like he was getting tired, but he refused to slow down. He pushed himself harder, grunting with each thrust. Her foot wiggled over his head. Her body rocked back and forth, up and down, as pliant as he wanted it. 

"Oh God, oh God, oh God," he started chanting over and over again.

His pace quickened further and he shoved himself down into her harder as if he was trying to push his entire body into her, and then he let out a muffled wail and pulled his hips back, pulling his cock from her, and he shoved his cock between her butt and the mattress, and thrust back and forth, panting and moaning as he came. 

If someone had chosen that moment to walk down the hallway I wouldn't have been able to do anything. I was just standing there rubbing my erection through my pants on the verge of ejaculation, but trying not to so as to not ruin my pants and walk around with a cum spot on my pants for the rest of the night.

He groaned loudly as he shoved his cock between her butt cheeks and the bed, his body trembling. Once he was spent he drew back and slid his dripping cock back into her. He let her legs fall to the bed, spread wide apart, and collapsed on top of her. He touched her face and hair as he kissed her neck and rotated his hips in slow circles, moving his shrinking cock inside of her. 

He laid on top of her for several minutes, panting hard, eventually not moving at all, and his penis slipped out of her. When he started pushing himself off of her, I quickly turned away and walked down the hall towards the bathroom.

Luckily, the bathroom was unoccupied, so I slipped inside and closed and locked the door. I pulled my pants down and jerked myself to a quick climax. I freshened up and arranged myself in the mirror before leaving the bathroom.

When I arrived back in the party room, I saw that many people had already left. It seemed early but with the host gone many of the other professors had left and so the students did as well. 

Dr. Engelhart's wife was standing in a corner talking to one of the professors. She glanced over at me, dissatisfied that I wasn't her husband. She tapped her glass nervously and returned to her conversation.

I glanced around the room and saw that neither Randall nor the girl he had been talking to were there. They had left already as well, probably together.

I got a glass of wine and entered into a conversation with a Dr. Thurber whose course I would be taking the next semester. I somehow diverted my thoughts from the scene I had just witnessed to the conversation, though still wondering exactly what was taking Dr. Engelhart so long to come back and thinking that perhaps he was fucking her again, the thought of which tempted me to leave again to check.

As I was about to do so, he finally entered the room. By his appearance no one would have figured what he had just been doing. He had fixed himself up properly and looked as fresh as if the night had just begun. He didn't even glance at me, but walked over to his wife, who gave him a very stern look, and put his arm around her and seemed to be giving his apology and an excuse for his absence. She seemed pleased with the excuse as she immediately lightened and smiled at him.

For the next hour I kept wondering exactly in what state he had left Denise and wanted to go check on her. I looked at my watch and excused myself from the room.

Dr. Engelhart must have seen me leaving because he immediately came after me. He asked me if I was leaving already and I told him that it was getting late and I wanted to get Denise home to rest. He led me back to the spare bedroom, the whole time saying that he was happy I had been able to attend and only wished that she had felt well as she seemed like a charming young woman whom he'd be interested in talking to more. As he opened the closed bedroom door, he suggested that he would be glad for us to come back and visit him at his home again. I nodded my head indifferently.

I entered the room and saw that she appeared to be sleeping very well. She was turned onto her side like she often slept, her dress seemingly wrinkled from lying down, covering her as well as one could expect. There was an additional quilt under her, covering the bed cover, which I assumed was to cover any stains he left on the bed cover. 

I had much trouble finally waking her and even then she wasn't completely awake. Dr. Engelhart checked her over again, feeling her forehead and taking her pulse, and saying that he thought she'd be fine, must have just been the wine and exhaustion. He helped me with her to the car, acting the part of the perfect gentleman. Once we had her seated and belted in, she came partly awake, enough to say a goodbye and thank you to Dr. Engelhart in a very drowsy voice that made me wonder if she was talking in her sleep.

He kept me for a longer time than I wanted, talking to me about class and what an excellent student he thought I was. He said that he felt I'd have no problem with his class and looked for big things from me in the future. It would turn out that I'd pass his course with the highest marks for a student ever in his class. As I left he invited us to once again to visit with him so that we could have a proper conversation. I thanked him and sped away.

At a red light I carefully but quickly lifted the hem of her dress and opened the long slit wide to see between her legs. I shoved my hand between her thighs and felt her pussy. I felt no wetness or stickiness. I checked out her dress once again and saw no stains. There was no sign of his rape. He was a very clean and thorough rapist. She startled me when she grabbed my wrist lightly and mumbled that she wasn't in the mood tonight. I laughed and pulled my hand away and drove us to my apartment.

I practically carried her into my apartment where I undressed her and put her to bed. That night I lay beside her as she slept and thought about the night. I remembered it, one hand sliding across the bed to touch her hip and stomach, the other hand stroking my cock. I remembered it and thought that the only thing that would have made it better would have been if Randall had still been there to come back as I had planned and raped her as well. 

Thus, my perversions began to expand, slightly as it seems now, but expand nonetheless. As with any addiction, the addict always must get more. The thrill begins to slowly fade and it takes more of the drug to induce the bliss the addict craves. I was already forming bigger and better ideas whose implementation would erode my few remaining morals and very humanity.



Perversions and Transgressions Ch. 03



After watching my medical school professor, Dr. Engelhart, rape my girlfriend and future wife while she was passed out I'd like to say that I acted like a concerned lover, that I defended her honor, that I brought justice by punishing the attacker, that I told my girlfriend Denise about the attack I witnessed and consoled her through her recovery. I didn't do any of those things. 

In fact the whole rape had been my fault. I had not intended for Dr. Engelhart to be the one to rape her when she was passed out. My plan had been for a fellow classmate Randall to be the one, but the situation did not go as planned. Still it ended up being as arousing and exciting as I had hoped for, probably more since it had gone a direction I had not anticipated.

Denise explains the complexities of the human mind to me regularly when we can break from our respective studies to converse privately, usually about our studies; I am in medical school and Denise is finishing up her last year of college with a major in psychology. She thinks she understands so much about the human mind, though would freely admit she doesn't know a fraction of what there is to know, and yet seems to know nothing about my obsession, the one thing that engulfs my thoughts and dreams, seeing her taken unaware by my best friend a year ago and then recently by my professor, and how to make it happen again.

She's right that the mind is complex. My own mind for example seems to work against itself. While my obsession to see Denise taken and used by other men without her knowing has become an addiction that brings more pleasure, excitement, and satisfaction than any thing I've ever experienced, my mind is constantly reminding me how wrong it is, how I'm betraying Denise, that I'm allowing myself to succumb to immoral acts to satisfy my own perversions, transgressing on the love and trust that she has been placed in me. While half of my mind berates and condemns me for my past and future actions, the other half pays no mind, doesn't even try to defend itself, I know there is no defending such actions, and reflects fondly on the past two experiences, memories I've masturbated to more times than I can count, and hatching new plans, coming up with new scenarios, ways to make the same thing happen again.

My thoughts returned to my previous plan and the object of that plan: Randall. I was sure that Randall would have performed as I expected if my plan had proceeded as I had wanted. The end result had still been very pleasant, but had shown how my plans, no matter how simple I tried to keep them could easily put Denise in danger. While my obsession was allowing me to place her in that danger I still maintain that I was controlling it and as the master of the situation could help her or end it as I needed to, ensuring that she was never hurt, never even knowledgeable of the violations performed upon her. Possibly having so much control over people who did not know it was part of the turn-on, but finding reasons for the satisfaction I feel from doing this doesn't matter, they are only reasons, the result is the same and all that matters.

So, though that plan had not succeeded, the end result was still very satisfying, and I could have ended it if I had wanted, walked in on Dr. Engelhart, removed him from the situation, even blackmailed him for it, if I had wanted, but I allowed it to proceed, aroused by the rape and in complete control of it. But still my next plan had to be even simpler than the last one and I still wanted to involve Randall in this one.

My one and only mistake that last time had been to give Denise too much Valium, not accounting for her athletically high metabolism from her extensive training on the tennis team where she is the top player on her team and one of the top in the state. Her body metabolized the mixture of alcohol and Valium quicker than I expected and she succumbed to it, became ill, and passed out even before I had been able to get her home to proceed with the plan. Until that point Randall had acted as I had suspected, he had been very attracted to her, barely able to stop himself from allowing his eyes to travel along her body the entire night, which I completely understood. Denise is an incredible beauty. She is of course trim and fit from her tennis training, but still has the gorgeous curves that all men lust for on a woman. She's slightly taller than average with long firm legs, not overly muscular like many professional female tennis athletes. She's the perfect mix of athleticism and femininity. She has the poise of a woman who while she is beautiful is not consciously aware of it, confident not just because of her beauty and the attentions of males, but because of the strength of her mind and character. Of course, these many traits that combine to make her a sexually arousing target for just about any straight male were not noticed by Randall. These things would go mostly unnoticed by a male of his type, he's a beast wearing the guise of a human, and beasts only sense and respond, and in Denise he just saw a woman that he wanted to fuck, to penetrate, to use. He wanted her that night and if Denise had not become ill I'm sure that I could have lured him to my home and eventually he'd have taken the bait.

I knew that I just needed to revise the plan, make it more simple. I need to do more research on drugs and methods for putting Denise to a sleep she wouldn't wake from while Randall fucked her, leaving her unaware of the violation and the harm it would cause if she knew about it, so that I wouldn't make the same blunder again. This turned out to be the easiest part.

I had found already that Denise is a heavy sleeper. Like many people who perform at a high athletic level, her body performed most normal tasks efficiently which included sleep, her body shut down when required and she slept deeply, allowing her body and mind to mend themselves. 

I began to experiment with just how deeply she slept under normal circumstances without introducing alcohol or any other drugs. She was a very deep sleeper. When she was in REM sleep I could say her name loudly directly into her ear and she wouldn't flinch. I could say her name a dozen times quickly loudly into her hear and she would just groan and re-enter REM sleep within a minute. I could slap her and she would return to REM sleep just as quickly. I could move her into different positions. I could rub her pussy and her clitoris. I could penetrate her with my fingers. I could fuck her with my fingers hard for several minutes. I could stroke her G-spot with my index finger, rub her clit, and slap her face all at the same time and she wouldn't wake. At most she would sigh or groan, move an arm or hand or leg, her eyes would stop fluttering, but she would never waken. 

These findings pleased me. She was a very heavy sleeper. The heavy sleep allowed her to get the rest, true restoration, to rebuild and refine her body and mind for another day of intense studying and exercise. Her body was not only sexy and beautiful but operating and repairing itself at a level we should all wish our bodies would also operate. 

Still I would never try to have her raped while only under the power of her own sleep. If she were to wake it would hurt her and ruin my own arousal, and probably end up stopping me from ever trying it again, if not end our relationship entirely. I knew I would have to find the perfect drug or mix of drugs to make it happen as I needed.

My new choice was a specific sleeping pill. Unfortunately it could not be bought over the counter like some medications, but had a short half-life, was very active during that span, and had few side effects along with a relatively low chance of dependence or problems with tolerance. 

Getting a prescription was easy. Dr. Engelhart had tagged me as his pet student after raping Denise that night and he wrote me a prescription without asking me why I needed it, which was another reason I had chosen it, as a relatively benign sleeping aid it wouldn't seem odd if I begged a prescription off of him or failing that off of my own medical doctor. 

During one of Denise's visits I spiked her glass of flavored water with 10mg. That night I was able to fuck her with two fingers, banging my hand against her hard and slap her face and yell into her ear. She groaned some, seemed to be trying to bring herself awake but was unable. The next morning she complained of a rough night of sleep but showed no signs of having to shake sleepiness from the pill.

A month later I tried 20 mg. I repeated the same experiment and she barely twitched or moved. The next morning she did not complain of a rough night of sleep and again had no sleepy after effect. I had found my new drug.

The next part of the plan was to find a way to get Randall near Denise while she was passed out and give him the chance and feeling of safety to rape her without being caught. I knew his conscience would allow him to do it. I also knew he was a risk-taker, a good mixture of lack of knowledge of repercussions, as many from his social status are, and arrogance to take the opportunity if presented with it. The problem was how to get them together. Denise had met Randall before and not surprisingly despised him. 

I considered just telling Randall what I was doing. That would make it much easier. Tell him Denise would be drugged and he could fuck her and use her and she wouldn't know and I wouldn't accuse him. But I couldn't do this. It would give Randall leverage on me that he could use against me, which he probably would. He could easily turn it to his advantage and I would no longer be the master of the situation. Plus, I didn't want anyone to know about this, didn't want any other person to know what was in my mind. This was my obsession, my lust, my desire, and nobody else should know about it. Not to mention it would be more of a turn-on if he didn't know, took the situation as presented to him, not knowing exactly how under she was, increasing the tension, making it more exciting for him and me as well. So, I could not make him a party to it. 

Randall and I had become friends of a sort. We were in the same dissection group in Gross Anatomy. I was the only one who did not seem to be disgusted by his obscene and inappropriate comments and stories provoked by whatever part of the body we would be studying that day. At first I think this annoyed him that I would neither be disgusted by him or laugh with him. But after the party at Dr. Engelhart's house where he met Denise for the first time and we talked some he seemed to have acknowledged me as tolerable and worth joking with if not a friend. 

The result was that I didn't even have to make a plan to achieve my goal. This is something I should have learned with my previous attempt and would learn better in the future. I can't really make hard and fast plans for something like this. I can and should make all necessary precautions, be careful, control the situation. But at the same time I just have to take an opportunity when it presents itself. Like life it's a mix of planning and spontaneity, taking what's given. I may not be able to completely control people, but I can control the situation, be the master, and make my own outcome.

Denise came to visit me on a week night, a rarity for us, both being busy, but she was feeling especially needy. She had no morning classes the next day so could leave in the morning and get back in time for her first class. We'd had a light dinner, a chicken pesto I made when she said she was coming. While it was baking I finished my studies for the night and was ready to receive her when she got there.

It was a nice night. We talked little about our studies and school, both of us wanting to forget those things. We mostly just cuddled on the couch watching some movie she liked about some man and woman that keep messing things up until they finally get together at the end. I don't like movie so always just watch what she wants. As we watched I slipped my hand under her shirt and stroked her flat stomach. She sighed and leaned into me. One thing we both understood was the need for contact, physical touch, not necessarily sexual, perhaps with a tinge of sexuality to it, but more so just a need to touch and be touched.

The phone rang and we both groaned. The phone seems to be a device created specifically to ruin calm moments.

I glanced at the Caller ID display on the phone and recognized Randall's cell phone number immediately. Since I had become Randall's friend of sorts, he had been using me to get notes from classes he missed, to borrow books he couldn't find, or borrow keys to the buildings he needed to get into to finish research or dissections. Surprisingly he was responsible enough to return things he borrowed, though probably more so because he didn't want to alienate the one person willing to help him, and I was willing to help him, waiting for the chance to use him as I wanted.

"Don't answer it," Denise mumbled. She had probably started nodding off already.

"I should answer it," I said. "It's Randall. He probably needs to borrow the notes from a lecture we had today that he missed."

She groaned and sat up so I could answer the phone.

"Sorry, hon," I said and kissed her lightly. 

I picked up the phone. "Hello, Randall. How are you?"

"Hey, buddy!" he yelled into the phone. I pulled the phone away from my ear and grimaced. I hate cell phones. Talking to somebody using one they always sound too loud or too soft and I tend to hear all of the noise around them. At that time I could hear some sporting event playing loudly on a television and people yelling and clapping. I knew he was at some bar, probably one of the places most people from Randall's station wouldn't go to, but he would just because of that. 

"Where are you?" I asked.

"Some bar," he yelled. "Hey man, I need a favor."

"What is it?" I asked.

"I missed the lecture today."

"I noticed."

"Yeah, I need a copy of the notes."

"So the usual right? You come over, take the notes, and give them back to me tomorrow?"

"Yup, that's works for me."

"No problem," I said. "But make it quick, it's getting late. Denise is here and we're both ready for bed."

"Denise, eh?" he said and then laughed. "I'll bet you are ready for bed." He laughed again. I didn't laugh back. "Okay, I'll be over in a few." He hung up.

I hung my phone up and set it down.

"Who was that?" Denise asked and yawned.

"Randall," I answered.

"You said that before, but who's Randall?"

"Oh yeah. You met him. Remember that night at Dr. Engelhart's a few months ago? He sat across from us at the table."

She crinkled her nose. "You mean that creepy cocky guy that was the only one not wearing a tie?"

"Yeah, that's him."

"Why is that guy calling you?"

"He needs the notes from the lecture today."

"He is coming over here?" she asked, sitting up.

"Yeah, just real quick though. I promise. I told him it had to be quick."

"I'm putting on more clothes then."

Denise pulled the blanket off of her and stood up. She was just wearing a small pair of panties and a long t-shirt. I always joked with her that I didn't understand why she wore underwear at all, they were so small, barely covered anything, and she always complained they went up her crack. I watched her walk away, watching her bare legs and the edge of the shirt fluttering against her thighs and butt.

"Like the view?" she said and stopped. She lifted the shirt up and shot her hip out at me and laughed.

"Definitely," I said. She loved to tease me. I liked it myself.

"You're so easy," she said and walked away smiling.

I sat back and started thinking about what I should do. Denise was here and Randall was on his way over. I thought quickly and decided to not try to work up a plan, to go with it, set things in motion, control it towards what I wanted.

"Want something to drink?" I yelled to her in the bedroom, stood up, and walked to the kitchen.

"Just some of my water," she yelled back. "Thanks."

I kept the pills in the kitchen behind the spices. I removed two tablets and crushed them between two spoons. I opened a bottle of her water and sprinkled the dust in and shook it violently, watching the small specks of the pills dissolve. If I looked closely I could see small flecks floating to the bottom. I hadn't given myself enough time to grind them as finely as I wanted, thinking she could enter the kitchen soon. But the water was colored a light purple and in the dark of the living room she wouldn't see it.

When I went into the living room she was sitting on the couch. She had changed into a baggy sweatshirt, sweatpants, and small white ankle socks. 

"You look hot," I said and grinned.

"Yeah, right," she said. "If I had a scarf and ski mask I'd put those on too."

"He's not that bad," I said and handed her the water.

She took it. "Thank you," she said. "He is that bad. It's not tough to spot creeps like that. If I didn't think it was cowardly I'd just wait in the bedroom."

She popped the top on the bottle and drank deep, emptying a quarter of the water.

"I'm sorry, hon," I said. "I'm sorry he makes you uncomfortable. If I had known I wouldn't have allowed him over."

She sighed deeply. "Don't worry about it. I'm probably overreacting." She sat lower on the couch and pulled the blanket around her. "I'll just finish watching my movie while you guys take care of your business."

I sat beside her and kissed her deeply. She smiled and sighed.

"Don't worry. I won't let it ruin the night," she said and then lightly grabbed my dick through my pants. I squirmed against her hand. "Oh," she purred. "Feels like someone is already getting aroused."

"Always around you," I answered and kissed her again.

I hadn't even noticed that the anticipation was causing that reaction. 

Reluctantly I broke the kiss and leaned back. "Not now. Don't get me all stirred up when someone is coming over."

She laughed and ran her fingers along my erection before taking her hand away. "Whatever you say, boss." She laughed again and drank more of her water.

I sat back and tried to pretend I was watching the bad movie when I was actually forming plans in my mind and watching as she drank her water, hoping it wouldn't taste differently at the bottom, hoping she'd drink the whole thing.

She finished her water quickly and sank lower into the couch. The movie delivered the typical jokes followed by the required poignant moments. Denise leaned against me and yawned.

I began to wonder if Randall was even going to show up when there was a finally a loud knock on the door. Denise jumped as she had just started nodding off to sleep.

"That's Randall," I said and stood up. She sat up straighter and pulled the blanket around her tighter.

I turned on the outside light and opened the door. Randall was standing there with one of his grins meant to be suave but looked more conniving.

"Come on in," I said.

"Hey man," he said as he stepped through the doorway and slapped me on the shoulder. "You're a life saver."

"That's what they tell me," I said and closed the door.

"Hi Denise," Randall said and walked toward her. He offered his hand and she shook it, putting on her best smile.

"Hello," she returned.

"I remember you from that boring faculty student thing a few months back," he said.

"I remember you too," she said.

"Cool," he said and dropped the subject. He let go of her hand and turned back to me. "Thanks for letting me borrow the notes."

He seemed to be on his best behavior for some reason. Usually Randall couldn't go a minute without saying something disgusting or improper, not to mention actually thanking me.

"Have a seat," I told him. "I'll get the notes."

I left the room and went to find my notes in the bedroom. I'm well organized so I found the notes quickly and returned to the living room.




Perversions and Transgressions Ch. 03



He was sitting in the recliner across the room from her, leaning forward on his knees and watching the movie.

"I've seen this one before," he said.

"Don't tell me how it ends," Denise said, her voice deep and husky. She was definitely tired.

"They all end the same, babe," he said and laughed.

"You mean the girl falls for the nice guy and the jerk ends up alone?" she asked.

He laughed, not missing the innuendo. "Exactly, just the way the jerk wants it anyway."

"Here are the notes," I said and shoved the papers into Randall's chest.

Randall took them and flipped through them, studying each page.

"I don't understand how you can take notes so neatly," he said.

"Just a talent," I responded.

"Doesn't look like I missed much," he said. "Still I better copy them to see if there's anything I need to know out of this crap."

"Just get them back to me when you make copies."

"No problem, man," he said and smacked me with the papers lightly on the arm.

I stepped back, thinking of a way to keep him there that wouldn't alienate Denise and wouldn't sound manipulative. I looked at Denise and she had already sunk down on the couch some and her eyes were fluttering closed. She was trying to fight the sleeping pills but was losing. I think the only reason she had stayed awake this long and spoke to Randall at all was because she despised him so much.

Randall stood up and adjusted his jacket. "Well, I should get going and leave you two love birds alone with your... movie," he said.

He took a step and swayed a bit on his feet and laughed, but kept walking.

"Did you drive here, Randall?" I asked.

"No, I rode my unicorn," he said.

"It sounded like you were at a bar," I said.

"Yeah, I was down at River's Edge watching the game but they were stinking it up so left." He stopped in front of the door, his hand lightly on the doorknob, swaying a bit.

"I don't know that you should be driving," I said.

"Eh," he said and waved his hand in the air. "Won't be the first time. Besides I got here fine."

I glanced at Denise and she was watching me with her eyes barely open. I wanted to see what she thought of the situation, of me trying to get Randall to say. She must have thought I was asking her permission because she just shrugged and pulled her legs up under the blanket. She, of course, wouldn't want him driving off drunk and killing someone, even himself.

"At least sit down for a bit until you feel more sober," I said. "Finish watching the movie."

Randall looked at me, his eyes narrowing like he didn't trust me. He looked at Denise quickly, probably looking for a response from her, but her head was turned to the television even if her eyes were shut.

"Sure, got a beer?" he said and laughed. He took off his jacket and dropped it on the floor.

"No," I said. "I don't drink it."

"Just fucking with you," he said and walked across the room the recliner and flopped into it.

I sat back down next to Denise and laid my hand on her foot beneath the blanket. We watched the movie for awhile with Randall fidgeting in his chair and making smarmy comments about the movie. I laughed with him and stroked Denise's foot to soothe her. But after a few minutes I could tell she was sleeping. I stroked the underside of her foot where she's really ticklish and she didn't respond.

"I don't know how you can watch these fucking movies," Randall said.

"I don't really like any movies, but she likes them," I said, nodding towards Denise.

"Yeah, they make these for the chicks and the chicks make their boyfriends watch them. But hey, I'm sure they help the guys get laid. Am I right?" he said and laughed.

"Whatever you say," I responded and grinned at him.

"Doesn't look like it's interesting enough to keep your chick awake," he said.

I looked at Denise and her eyes were closed with her head laying on the arm of the couch. She was breathing deeply as she slept.

"Well, she's had a long day. Classes, tennis practice, studying, then driving up here."

"A busy girl."

"Yeah," I said. "And she sleeps deeply. Watch this." I reached over her and put my finger in her ear and she didn't even flinch.

Randall laughed. "Hilarious," he said.

"She can sleep through just about anything," I said.

I waited for the obligatory raunchy comment from Randall but he didn't say it. I was impressed.

"I better put her to bed," I said.

I stood up and peeled the blanket from her. I slid my arms beneath her and lifted her into my arms.

"Damn, you're strong," Randall said.

"Not really," I said back. "She's light. I could do just about anything I wanted with her."

I let the implication hang and carried her back to the master bedroom. I laid her down on the bed and peeled her sweats off. She had just the t-shirt, panties, and socks on underneath. She mumbled softly but didn't move any. I laid her on her back and spread her thighs apart, one leg straight, the other bent at the knee. She looked so enticing I wanted her for myself.

I turned off the bedroom light but opened the curtains and blinds some to let in the street lights, enough to where Randall could see her if he looked here and I was betting he would. I left the room, leaving the door open and sat back down on the couch.

"This movie sucks," Randall said.

"I'll turn it off," I said. I turned the movie off and turned on the television. I turned it to a movie channel, thinking there'd be some adult-oriented movie and there was, something not entirely sleazy, but enough to give him ideas.

I looked at him out of the corner of my eye and he was leaning forward to look down the hallway and into the bedroom. He could definitely see her. He turned away and looked at the television, not wanting to get caught. On the television, a woman in typical cheap Victorian style was flirting with a guy in the back of a horse drawn carriage. I turned the volume up some.

"Don't worry about the volume. It won't wake her. She won't stir until morning," I said.

"I ain't worried," he said and glanced into the bedroom again, craning his neck to see better.

"Well it's up to you what to do, Randall," I said after a few minutes. "You're welcome to crash on the sofa or just hang out until you feel sober enough."

"Yeah, uh, thanks man," he said. "I'll probably just hang out for a while if that's okay with you."

"No problem. I'd offer you the guest bedroom but that's where I'm sleeping tonight."

"You sleep in the guest room?" he said.

"Yeah, she snores really loud when she's out like that and the only way I can get to sleep is to go into the other room. Once I get to sleep I'm out until the morning, but I can't get to sleep with her snoring if I'm in the same bed."

"I think you're crazy," he said. "I'd...," he started but stopped himself. "Well, just don't worry about me." He gave me one of his grins and nodded at me.

"Well, I'm going to bed, then," I said and stood up. "Make yourself at home," I told him and went to the bathroom. I brushed my teeth quickly, feeling the excitement starting to course through my body. I knew this was going to work. I tried to act normal, doing my normal bathroom ritual, and then went to the spare bedroom. I left the door partially open so I could see into the hallway. I'd be able to see if he came into the hallway to go to the master bedroom. I turned off the lights and lay in bed to wait.

As I laid in bed I listened for any noise from the living room. I heard him turn the down the television but he didn't change it. I could hear a couple of quick sex scenes, one comical and one dramatic judging from the music. I heard the springs of the chair as he reclined in it one time but heard it again as he set it back down, probably because he couldn't see into the bedroom while reclined. I heard him shifting in his chair, heard him cough and sniff, people make a lot of noise even when they don't know it. I waited longer than I thought I would have to. I actually felt the excitement starting to seep away when I finally heard him stand up.

I heard him quietly moving out of the living room then saw him come into the hallway, one hand held out to brush against the wall. I closed my eyes as he walked past. I heard the bathroom door close, heard him urinate, but didn't hear a flush or hear the sink being turned on. I heard the bathroom door open. I opened one eye partially and saw him standing just outside my door. I could only see his profile but knew he was watching me. I closed my eye and took deep breaths like I was sleeping. He whispered my name and then said it a bit louder. I said nothing and didn't change my breathing. I heard the door shut softly.

My stomach immediately tightened and I shivered, the anticipation wanting to break free, knowing he was going to do it. I opened my eyes and stared at the clock, forcing myself to not move for exactly three minutes, the time I figured it would take him to approach the bedroom and make his way in.

I lay there, suffering as the excitement built, my stomach feeling like it was cramping, watching the digital numbers on the clock slowly change. I imagined him standing in the bedroom doorway, watching her, calling her name. I even thought I heard him saying her name rather loudly once, but can't be sure it was real. I saw him in my mind finally moving towards the bed like a predator, his eyes moving over her prone body, his hands falling lightly on the bed, shaking it, watching her body move as he shook it harder, saying her name again, trying to act cool in case she woke, until he finally touched her and shook her, his eyes watching her face intently, looking for any sign of waking.

Finally, the three minutes ticked by and I sighed with relief and quietly got out of bed. I opened the bedroom door, lifting up slightly so the hinges wouldn't squeal. I leaned out and did not see him but the master bedroom door was almost closed. I crept past the door and glanced into the living room. The television was on, playing softly but he was not in the room and his jacket was still laying on the floor. 

I walked softly back to the master bedroom door and listened. I couldn't hear anything at first and I figured the television was a bit too loud to hear inside so I moved to the small crack left from the door not being entirely closed and listened. Then, I could hear her breathing, heavy deep sleep breathing. That's all I could hear at first. Then, I heard him make a soft moan and it was like electric fingers moving down my spine from my neck to my anus and I clenched. I bit my lip to not sigh to myself. This is what I had wanted.

I nudged the door open softly so I could see in. The light from the partially open blinds and curtain lit the room well enough for me to see easily. He was still standing over her, but his hands were moving over her body, his eyes followed his hands. He rubbed her thighs and stomach, pushing her shirt up to her chest. He seemed to be tentative, still not sure if she would wake, but his hands began to linger on her inner thighs, rubbing close to her crotch.

Suddenly he leaned forward and grabbed her hair in his other hand and pulled her head down into the pillow and said loudly "Hey bitch!" He froze after he said this, not moving, barely breathing, but she didn't make any motion or sound.

"Oh yeah," he sighed. He took his hands off of her and stood up. He unbuckled and opened his pants as he stepped on his shoes, pulling his feet out. He shoved his pants and underwear down and off. His erection stood out, long but slender. I worried for a moment, thinking about how he had grabbed her hair and what he had yelled at her, but it faded quickly. I would interrupt if he got too rough and I doubted he would for fear of waking her. Plus, seeing somebody a bit rough with her I must admit I found even more arousing.

He moved onto the bed on all fours, moving over her, staring down at her. He moved over one leg and then sat down between her legs. He laid a hand on each thigh and slid his hands up and down, pushing both legs wider. As he stroked her thighs he looked over her body intently, sighing softly to himself. 

He slid his hands up her waist and over her stomach. Denise has incredible hips; I've held them tightly while she's ridden me many times. Now Randall's hands slipped over her curves. I was glad to see that he enjoyed touch as much as sight. Denise's skin is soft but with that slightly tougher feel of suntanned skin that makes you want to grab tighter, dig your fingers into her skin and muscle.

Randall moved up her body until he was straddling her waist, his hands moving up under her shirt until it was pushed up over her breasts. He held a breast in each hand, massaging and grabbing. I could tell he wanted to be more forceful, wanted to pluck and twist but was stopping himself. He could have done those things, at least to a point, without waking her, but was trying to be careful, at least somewhat careful, wanting to enjoy her body but not wake her. 

He then crawled up her body until he was straddling her chest and pressed her breasts together. He slid his erection between her breasts, pressing them together tightly, her breasts just barely big enough to do this. He titled his head back and began fucking her tits faster, almost angrily, probably not feeling like he had hoped.

Then he stopped, grabbed her hair, pulled her head up, and shoved his cock into her mouth. I gritted my teeth to stop from yelping, partly surprised at his quick violent movement, partly capturing a warning that the movement could be too much and might wake her, but it didn't. He leaned forward, placing a hand on the wall in front of him and a hand in her hair and pressed himself into her mouth, not going too deep, but enough to rub his head between her lips.

I could hear him groaning, a soft low guttural noise, as he slid in and out of her mouth, I could almost see the effort in his tight trembling body from trying to not go too fast or too deep, perhaps knowing he was already taking too many chances, pushing it too far, but wanting more. 

He dropped his head to watch himself slowly push himself into her mouth until she suddenly jerked. He pulled out of her quickly and sat up over her on his knees, still straddling her chest but not touching her anywhere and watched her. I could feel his concentration as he watched her. Her head settled down into the pillow and she drifted off again.

He sat like that for about a minute, watching her breathe deeply. Then, he crawled back down her body until he was between her legs again. He looked up at her as he sat there, watching her intently, and then slid a hand up her thigh to her crotch and peeled back her underwear. He slowly slid a finger into her and began working it in and out of her. Her breathing didn't change and she didn't move as he moved his finger faster and then pushed a second one in with it.

"Fucking tight," he whispered.

He pulled his fingers out, smelled them, then put them in his mouth and then back inside of her, lubing her up with his saliva. He did this a few more times, each time working his fingers into her entirely, twisting them and curling them inside of her, his eyes switching from her pussy to her chest to her face.

Once satisfied she was loose and wet enough he pulled his fingers from her and lowered his body down to hers. He grabbed his penis and aimed the head at her pussy, looking down between their bodies, and then pushed into her softly. 

"Oh god," he moaned as his head slid into her easily. She was well lubricated and loosened for him. I had noticed before how she seemed so much more relaxed when asleep and it was much easier to penetrate her than when she was awake and willing. Her body was much softer, seeming eager.

He placed his hands on either side of her body as he started to push himself into her, pulling back a bit before pushing into her even more and in only a few strokes he was buried in her to the root.

I pulled my own penis from my shorts and began stroking it. I was harder than I had ever been during sex, painfully hard, watching Denise being taken more arousing to me than actually having sex with her.

Randall held his body almost rigid above her like he was in a partial push-up their bodies only touching where they connected and he slid in and out of her in long languid strokes, moving the entire length of his erection into her. He looked down at her body, studying her to make sure she was asleep while also admiring her, devouring her with his eyes, watching her breasts move slowly with his rhythm.

I stroked myself to his rhythm, the other hand gripping the door frame, trying to watch myself, my breathing and noises, not wanting him to hear me, wanting him to continue, wanting to find my own release through him.

He increased his speed but kept moving in those long strokes, his skin lightly slapping hers as his hips met her pelvis, skin against skin, and he arched his back, looking down between their bodies, probably just being able to see his cock appear between their bodies before sinking into her again. The bed moved and squeaked softly with his strokes. Her body swayed back and forth helplessly. 

He dug his knees into the bed and slid them up and then suddenly jammed himself into her deeply and groaned loudly, almost a growl, and held himself there for a moment as he watched her, and seeing she didn't move, pulled out and back in just as hard, making the bed squeal loudly, ramming the headboard against the wall. He jammed himself into her over and over again, watching her intently, holding himself over her, making low noises in his chest.

He kept up the hard deep long deep stroke, stopping once in a while, just holding himself deep inside of her, panting, probably to stop himself from coming. Every time he stopped I would stop as well, afraid the silence from him not making the bed squeak and panting would allow him to hear me stroking myself.

Suddenly he pulled out of her and crawled down her body. He grabbed her calves as he stepped off the bed and pulled her to the edge of the bed until her butt was almost off of it. He shoved himself back into her, cradling her legs in his arms and started fucking her fast in short thrusts, enough to make a loud slap from their skin slapping together.

Her head rocked to the side and she groaned in her sleep, but he didn't slow any. He was too absorbed in it at this point. I think that even if she had woken and sat up he would have continued, wrestling her down if he had to. At that moment he just wanted to fuck her as hard as he needed to, wanted to watch it, wanted to see her, wanted to own her body with his eyes and his cock, take her and use her until he'd had his fill and could finally release himself.

I understood that need as I felt the same thing. I had to be more controlled, quieter, watching and studying, alternately watching him and their joining and watching to see if she did wake up. If she were to wake up I'd have to arrange myself quickly and step in to stop it, but hoped that would not happen as I stroked myself faster, my fingers playing over the head, wanting to hold off my own release until he found his, wanting to enjoy every moment.

His knees pressed into the side of the bed as he crouched slightly, holding her hips up, his hands gripping her thighs, her legs dangling from his arms, her arms laid out straight over her head, her breasts rocking with his thrusts, and he looked down at her, his eyes moving from watching his cock slide in and out of her and her body moving and swaying on the squealing bed.

He started whispering things that I couldn't understand, sounded like curses and commands, telling her things that I couldn't hear, keeping his voice low, thrusting into her, smacking against her. Her feet dangled towards the floor, still wearing those small ankle socks, jiggling with his movements. Those involuntary and almost lazy movements of her body as he fucked her displayed how open her body was to him, moving with him, finding a rhythm in his rhythm, an object being used by him, moving only according to how he moved.




Perversions and Transgressions Ch. 03



He stopped for a moment and slid his hands down her thighs to grab her hips. He lifted her butt into the air so he could straighten his legs and pushed her back onto the bed a bit. Then with her body held firmly in his arms and hands he began fucking her even faster and harder, his back arched as he threw his hips towards her and looked down at her. The head board began to thump against the wall.

I leaned against the wall to support myself as my legs began to tremble. I could feel some semen had leaked out and felt I was so close, hoping he was close because I couldn't stand much more.

Suddenly he laid on top of her, his feet digging into the carpet for traction, holding her legs in his arms so her feet fell across his back and he slammed down into her, arching his back, pounding into her a few times until he lost any rhythm and jabbed himself into her deep and groaned loudly.

I came at that exact moment, shooting my semen onto the carpet, watching him as he jammed himself into her, grinding into her, his fingers digging into her thighs, his toes slipping on the carpet, the bed making soft squeals with each hard deep thrust into her. I knew he was coming inside of her, pushing himself deep into her, pressing his semen as far into her as he could. I felt the excitement break apart inside of me as the orgasm was peeled from my body and felt the soothing tingles slither across my skin and I shivered.

Then his body fell still on top of her. He cradled her legs in his arms with her feet laying on his butt and panted, his head laying on her chest. He lay like that for a while. I took the time to clean up after myself, taking my shorts off and kneeling down to wipe up my mess on the carpet, being as quiet as I could while I kept my eyes on him.

He stood up and grabbed her waist. He pushed her up onto the bed and his semi-erect cock slipped out of her. He let her legs down to the bed softly and then stood over her, wiping sweat from his face as he watched her.

Not knowing what he would do next I crept back to the spare bedroom. I closed the door as he had, dropped my shorts beside the bed and got under the covers. I laid still, breathing deeply to catch my own breath while trying to be silent so I could listen for him.

For several minutes I didn't hear anything then I saw a light come on under my door and then the bathroom door clicked shut. He was in there for several minutes probably cleaning himself up, straightening his clothes. He left the bathroom without flushing the toilet. I heard the front door open and close. He had left.

I sat for a few minutes to make sure he wasn't coming back. I got up to inspect what he had done. Denise was laying as she had when I put her down, her shirt pulled down to her waist. I checked between her legs and she was sticky and wet. I wasn't sure if he had tried to clean up or not, but went and got some toilet paper to try to clean up more.

The cover at the foot of the bed had a small wet spot too, but I figured that would be gone by morning. I put Denise under the covers and got into bed with her. I fell asleep much quicker than I had expected. Apparently this had been the release I had been needing for so long and slept better than I had in a long time.

The next morning Denise asked if we'd had sex that night and I said that we had. She said she still felt a bit sore but didn't remember us having sex. I laughed and jokingly thanked her for remembering what a fabulous lover I was. She seemed to accept it and didn't ask any more questions.

I knew I got lucky that time. Randall had been rougher with her than the previous men and she had known in the morning that something had happened. She never guessed exactly what and accepted my story, but I knew there was more I had to be careful about. I wondered if there would be a way to numb her down there in such a way as she wouldn't feel the soreness but also wouldn't feel it being numb. I wondered how hard someone could take her without waking her.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I wondered how twisted I had become to be wondering these things. 



Perversions and Transgressions Ch. 04



After I had watched my classmate Randall fuck my girlfriend Denise while she was passed out, I thought it would be a long time until I was able to setup the scenario again. But another opportunity would occur only a few weeks later. This time I would have to sink a bit lower than I had before. Perhaps I wouldn't have taken advantage of the depressing situation that was to come if I hadn't still been riding the high from the success of my previous experience. I'd been able to successfully manipulate Randall into fucking Denise. I had drugged her. I had planted the suggestion into his head. Then I had watched and masturbated as I watched him take her. It had been my most explosive experience at the time. I had seen Denise taken twice before, but neither had been the result of my own successful planning. The third time I had manipulated everything. 

I often played out the memories of that experience in my head. I had to force myself to focus on my studies, but my mind often slipped back to that night. Because of this my arousal was the greatest it had ever been and I practically attacked Denise every day. As an accommodating lover she accepted most of my advances with just a mention of my increased lust and rougher handling of her. She didn't complain because she enjoyed it herself. She took me inside of her and came all the harder for my own urgent thrusting, our violent sex resulting in scratches and bite marks that we laughed about later as we found clothing that would cover them.

I was still immersed in this almost constant state of arousal when Denise received a call from her sister informing her that her parents had been in a car accident. Her father was dead and her mother was in the hospital dying. We notified our professors that we'd be gone for family business and left later that day. Her family didn't live far away, only a four hour drive, so I drove us.

About halfway into the drive Denise had calmed down enough that I was no longer consoling her, so my mind began to wander, and it suddenly occurred to me that I had packed the sleeping pills I had used to drug her. I had packed them without thinking like it was as normal to pack as my toothbrush, something I carried with me and expected to use. My right hand was lying in her lap, holding both of her hands, and I squeezed her hands tightly, flinching at my own coldness.

The pills had become a regular part of my life like my daily hygiene products. Such a development should have been a shock, that pills used to drug the woman who loved and trusted me had become an essential part of my life, but I only wondered that not only wasn't it a shock, I wasn't ashamed of myself. It was yet another reminder that I had moved past emotions such as shame and disgust about myself and my actions. 

I pushed such thoughts from my head and held her hand tightly. I would be there for her during this tragedy in her life. I would show to myself that I could be a caring and strong partner. I couldn't undo the wrongs I had done in the past, but I could regain a portion of my humanity by putting aside my own perversion and caring for the woman I love, the woman who needed me.

Those were my thoughts at the time, but my good intentions would unravel as my perversity found another opportunity.

When we arrived in her home town I drove directly to the hospital. There we met her older sister Rebecca and her husband Jordan waiting for us in the intensive care waiting room.

The two sisters hugged tightly, causing them both to cry. Awkwardly, Jordan and I shook hands, expressing greetings and sorrow, and I asked him for the latest news. Their mother had been stabilized but had suffered enough brain damage that only the lower functions still survived and she was being kept alive on machines. Her living will stated that she wasn't to be kept alive in such a state so they were about to take her off of the machines. They were just waiting for us to arrive.

We went to the room to watch them remove her from the machines. I held Denise as she pressed her face to my shoulder, alternately watching and then turning away to wipe away tears. It was the saddest and most oppressive scene I had experienced to that point in my life. I tried to put myself in her place, imagine the thoughts and feelings, but was unable. I couldn't imagine it. My own parents had died when I was very young, young enough that my memories of them are more so sensations than images. I was raised by a series of relatives that all seemed to be angry that I had been thrust upon them. To say I was not close to my family was an understatement. To say I had no family was more accurate.

But one does not need to be able to empathize with another human being or have to understand their pain to care for them and try to help them. So I did what I could, which at such moments isn't much. I would learn this later as a doctor, watching many people die and knowing there was no way to soothe those left behind. Grief is very personal.

Other relatives eventually filtered into the room, aunts and uncles and cousins, family that still lived in the area and had come to pay final respects. It was too many people for me to remember and there was only a minimum of conversation with condolences and updates on the mother's condition. She did not die after being removed from the machines.

The hospital staff then moved her out of intensive care and to a normal room where she could die and not take up space for those whose lives were to be saved. Thus began a weeklong vigil. There's nothing like waiting for someone to die. Death does not come easy. I've seen it many times now and it is never like in the movies. The body is designed to keep itself alive, it will shut down everything nonessential to supply energy to the essentials for maintaining life. It's a brutal process. The body breaks itself down, shutting down anything it doesn't need, and destroys itself in an effort to thrive. Death is almost always slow and if not painful to the person dying than at least painful to those watching it.

I have no need to describe that week in detail. It's obvious that it was a drain on Denise. She slept very little, staying at the hospital as much as she could. I drove her around, brought her food, and tried my best to respond to her needs. I let her do what she needed to do and tried to support her. We stayed at her parents' house with Jordan and Rebecca. We all felt uncomfortable there without her parents and stayed out as much as possible.

I spent a lot of time with Jordan. The two sisters would sit in their mother's room, waiting, and he and I would wander at times, talking about things not having to do with death. I had never talked to him much and at that time found him to be pleasant enough company. He was intelligent and funny and seemed to want to alleviate the mood as much as I did when we were alone.

About five days into the vigil he surprised me with a discussion more private than we'd had previously. By that time we'd talked enough to be very comfortable around each other and in fact established a friendship not based purely on circumstances but from a commonality in interests, humor, and intellect. On that particular day we were driving to a local deli to buy lunch for the relatives that were currently sitting in the hospital room. I was driving and noticed that Jordan was shaking his leg and tapping on the dashboard. 

"How are you doing?" I asked him.

"Fine as can be," he replied, staring out the side window.

"I don't mean that," I said. "You seem particularly agitated today."

"Oh, sorry," he said, stopped his leg from shaking, and folded his arms across his chest.

I smiled and brushed it off. "It's fine. You weren't bothering me. I was just wondering what's going on."

"Maybe all this sitting around and waiting," he replied. "I'm not good at doing nothing. I need to be doing something."

"We are doing something," I said. "We're getting lunch. The most exciting thing we'll do all day." I laughed to myself.

He smiled at me and sighed deeply. "I don't know. I'm just being a selfish ass of a husband."

"No. I don't think so. You're here with your wife when she needs you. She appreciates it and appreciates you."

"I'm not talking about that." He shifted in his seat like he was struggling with some thought, trying to decide what to say and what not to say.

"Then what are you talking about," I said, "If there's something you want to get off your chest then tell me. I'm probably the least judgmental person you're ever going to meet." I tried to subdue my laugh, knowing that between the two of us I'd be the one that could be the most easily judged for my actions.

"What makes you think there's something I want to get off my chest?" he asked, looking directly at me, but not accusatory, just questioning.

"Your body language," I replied. "You're fidgeting and when I ask you about it you stop and wrap up like you're trying to hold onto something."

"Are you studying to be a doctor or a psychologist?" he joked.

"I'm not meaning to psychoanalyze you. I'm just asking. If you don't want to talk then don't. Whatever works for you." I gave him a reassuring smile.

There was silence for a few seconds before he finally spoke.

"Well," he started and then stopped, thinking it over. "Honestly, I'm just fucking horny," he sputtered and then broke into nervous laughter.

I laughed with him and then said, "Well, I can understand that."

"But it's just fucking selfish," he said, sounding a bit angry with himself now. "Look," he said and turned in his seat so his body faced me, "I know this is a tough situation and I truly feel bad for Rebecca and I want to help her. I want to be here for her. But I also really want sex."

"That's understandable," I said. "And I don't think you need to look at that as being selfish. Being horny doesn't make you a bad husband, or a bad person for that matter."

"Is it bad when after a few days of this, of all of this morbid death bed crying, that when I hold my wife I sometimes I have to pull back a bit because I don't want her to feel my hard-on?"

"No, that's not bad," I said. "It's natural. It's who we are. And I'm guessing she's been too upset to have any thoughts about sex."

"Of course, and I haven't approached her about it, and I'm not going to. I need to leave her alone, at least as far as that stuff goes. Let her grieve. Support her. I don't want to trouble her with my own selfish needs."

"Which makes sense and goes to show you're not being selfish, you're trying to do what you think is right for her even though you have your own desires right now as well."

"Maybe," he said. "But if I was a good husband I wouldn't be allowing myself to obsess about this and wouldn't be getting aroused when she's looking for comfort in my arms."

"You're being too hard on yourself," I said. "We can't berate ourselves for our own natural desires and wants. We can only deal with them and act appropriately with those that we love."

"We?" he asked me with a searching look.

I hesitated as I replayed what I had said in my head. Had I been replying to what he had said or to my own thoughts about the pills I had brought with me?

"Of course 'we,'" I said and tried to laugh it off.

"You feeling the same?" he asked with a friendly smirk.

"Of course. I'm not getting any either," I said, trying to say it like I would imagine a normal guy would.

"What are we to do, eh?" he said and sighed.

"Jerk off, I guess." We both laughed. 

"Maybe," he said. "But that can only get you so far."

"I guess," I said, hoping the conversation was over as I was feeling uncomfortable with the topic and how I'd allowed myself to start revealing my own thoughts.

"Anyway, that's not all," he said.

"Ah," I replied, not even willing to ask what else he wanted to talk about.

"Can I tell you something?" he asked. "Something that you have to promise to never tell anyone else, especially Denise."

"Sure," I said, wishing I wasn't hitting so many red lights so I could get to the deli sooner.

"Rebecca and I have an open marriage," he said.

"Really?" I said, actually becoming interested again.

"Yup," he said and nodded. "It's something we decided on before we got married. We're not swingers. We're not doing orgies." He laughed. "We're just, both of us, we're allowed to explore with other people when we want to. As long as we're safe and open about it."

"That's pretty interesting," I said.

"You think so?" he asked.

"Yeah," I offered, not wanting to say much more, not sure what was expected of me. Should I have been surprised or disgusted or something else?

"You don't think we're immature kids who can't commit?" he said and grinned.

"Well you're not kids because you're both a few years older than me," I said and laughed. "But what you two decide works for you is none of my business and definitely not for me to judge. I'm the last to judge others." I almost bit my tongue as I felt I was saying too much again, but Jordan didn't notice.

"Then you're pretty open-minded. I think most people think it's wrong or immoral," he said.

"I doubt that. There are a lot of people that do the same. And you two obviously meet other people who feel the same," I offered.

"True," he said. "Anyway, so it's had me thinking about going out and trying to pick someone up. But I don't know anyone here and I'm not going to drive the couple of hours back home to hook up with someone there, not when she needs me here."

"Yeah. I can't help much with that. I've never been one to try to pick up strangers for sex," I said.

"Me either, really," he said. "Anyone that I've been with has been someone I've known already, a friend or colleague. We don't even look on the internet or anything like that."

I nodded.

"Anyway, so is it bad that I'm thinking about hitting up the bars for some action?" he asked.

"There's nothing wrong with thoughts," I said. "It's only actions that can be wrong."

Our conversation came to an end as we finally arrived at the deli.

Over the next couple of days I noticed a change in Jordan, or at least I started to notice different things about him. For one thing he seemed to be looking at other women more than he had been. He even would nudge me when a particularly attractive woman would happen by. Also, our discussions tended to be more about sex than before. He'd ask me a question of a sexual nature just so he could then answer it how he would and talk about thoughts he'd been having or describe some experience he'd had in the past. He seemed to be obsessed with sex. It was obvious it was on his mind and only increased with each passing day and his abstinence continued. As he revealed to me, he hadn't gone a week without sex in a few years and hoped he wouldn't ever again. 

After being there a week, Denise's mother finally died. That day the signs were that she would pass and the four of us, along with some other close family, stayed that night and were there when she died. Amongst the sadness there was actually some relief, something that I would again see many times later. 

A couple of days later there was a viewing for her mother and father with the funeral the following day. I did my best to support Denise through it all. She slept very little and the funeral itself seemed to drain her further as she took full responsibility for making all the plans and arranging everything. I worried she was pushing herself but kept it to myself, letting her do it as she needed to, letting her deal with it as she wanted. She's a strong woman and I would never treat her as anything but that. 

After the burial and a brief gathering at her parents' church, the four of us went back to their parents' home where we were staying. We were uncomfortable there as we had been since we arrived and all of use changed to go out for dinner. It was a strange dinner. We went to a chain steakhouse and stayed there until well into the evening. None of us wanted to go back to the house. Both Rebecca and Denise drank heavily. I had never seen Denise drink so much but I didn't mention it. She was never one to drown her sorrows in alcohol but if that's what she wanted to do then I would choose to stay sober to drive us all back safely. Jordan also drank some once I told him I would drive.

It was actually a mostly pleasant evening as the sisters talked about memories of their parents and childhood. They laughed a lot and I was happy to hear her laugh again. 

During our time there I mostly watched and listened as I do most of the time anyway. The three of them talked a lot, especially the sisters. I watched Jordan and Rebecca and as the evening went on I noticed he was putting his arm around her and touching her more. He was being more affectionate and if she didn't return it she at least didn't seem to mind. Also I noticed that he was looking at Denise more than I thought socially appropriate. I had never noticed him to have an eye for her before, perhaps I had missed it, but that night he was definitely looking at her more than with just conversational interest. She did look pretty that night despite the ordeal. Her eyes looked dark and shrunken from lack of sleep. Her face looked a bit thinner than normal. Otherwise she looked as beautiful as ever. For the first time since we had been there she had actually fixed her hair and let it down. Her shirt while not particularly revealing was cut lower than anything she had worn that week and small enough to wrap tightly around her breasts. I smiled to myself that Jordan had noticed her and was horny enough and drunk enough to allow his guard down, assuming he had always kept a guard up before.

Eventually the evening wore down and we left. On the drive home I watched Jordan in the back seat with Rebecca, putting his arm around her and trying to kiss her, but she wasn't returning his attentions. I smiled at his fumbling attempts and also felt bad for him. He didn't know anything about romantic timing. Just because she was laughing didn't mean she wanted to be intimate. She was still in that grieving place which for her excluded that type of intimacy. He got the point after a few attempts and sat back in his seat behaving himself and trying to not pout.

"Let's stop by the liquor store on the way home," he said, breaking the silence.

"Mom and dad never had liquor in the house," Rebecca said. 

Silence filled the car again.

"I think it'd be ok if we break that rule tonight," Denise said.

"You sure?" I asked.

"Why not?" she said. "Besides I want to sleep tonight and that always helps."

I looked in the rearview mirror at Rebecca who nodded. "Okay," she said.

We stopped at a liquor store but the sisters didn't seem that concerned with buying anything. Jordan however bought a bottle of Crown Royal and a bottle of cola. The sisters settled on some wine coolers.

Back at the house Jordan made a drink and asked if anyone else wanted one, but everyone turned him down. The sisters each had a wine cooler. We all sat in the living room and tried to not feel awkward. There had been laughs and some measure of lightness at the restaurant but that all evaporated back at the house.

Jordan seemed agitated and even aggressive. He and Rebecca sat on the sofa. They would cuddle some but a couple of times he got more enthusiastic and she would stop him. He wasn't being antagonistic or overly exuberant, but even his smallest attentions were rebuffed. 

I sat in the large chair that had been their father's and Denise sat on the floor between my legs, leaning against the chair. From there I could stroke her hair and shoulders. She had changed into a tank top and shorts for the evening and Jordan's eyes kept wandering over her, especially as his wife had shut down his advances. 

"Are you getting tired?" I asked her.




Perversions and Transgressions Ch. 04



"I'm very tired but don't know if I'll be able to sleep," she said. "It still feels weird being in this house."

"I know," Rebecca said. "I'm just glad that it was left to Aunt Rita and she can take care of it. I couldn't imagine having to deal with it, not on top of everything else."

"We could go to a hotel if you think you can sleep better," I said.

"No, that's okay," Denise said. "I can stay here. I'm fine." She looked up at me and smiled. I smiled back.

I'd like to say that the idea of slipping her the sleeping pills came from a purely altruistic place, wanting her to sleep after such a rough week. I'd like to be able to say that, but I know I can't. I thought about just telling her I had them and offering her one, but worried that she knew I even had them. What if I told her, she took one, and the next morning felt some after effect of them and was able to tell from then on when she'd taken them or that she'd taken them before without knowing? How would I explain to her that I had them? 

I wanted her to sleep. I knew she would if she took a sleeping pill, but I couldn't give it to her knowingly. So I'd have to slip it to her as I had done several times before. Then she'd be able to sleep and she'd feel much better in the morning. If we had been alone, just the two of us, I'd be able to say truthfully that those would have been my entire intentions.

Truthfully though, I had noticed how Jordan was looking at her and I knew how he was feeling. I knew it was a good scenario for setting up what I wanted, what I desired. Just the thought of being able to set it up gave me that queasy arousal in my stomach and tingling in my crotch. I could try to plead that I had only the best intentions, but I'd be lying.

I excused myself to the bathroom, used the toilet, and washed my hands. While there I got two sleeping pills and mashed them into powder between the toothbrush holder and sink. I scraped the dust into the palm of my hand. I went to the kitchen, poured the dust into a wine cooler, and swirled it until I couldn't see any flakes of the pills. The liquid was a bright red and wouldn't show much anyway. I brought it into her when I sat back down.

"I don't think I could drink another," Denise said.

"I think it'd do you good," I replied. "Maybe it'll help you sleep. It always seems to."

"Yeah," she said and took it from me. "Just the one more though. I don't want to have a hangover. We still have things to do tomorrow."

"Yes we do," Rebecca said and sighed heavily.

"Try not to think about that right now," I said. "It's been a long day. It's been a long week. Try to relax tonight. Get some sleep. We'll take care of tomorrow when it gets here."

There wasn't much conversation after that. The two sisters were too tired and morose. Jordan was sulking but trying not to. Denise finished the wine cooler and laid her head on my knee.

"You look ready for bed," I said.

I stood up and helped her to her feet.

"You too," Jordan said to Rebecca and helped her up.

We each had one of the guest rooms which had previously been the childhood rooms of Denise and Rebecca. We weren't using their parents' bedroom for obvious reasons. I took Denise to her bedroom and led her to the bed.

"Do you want a nightgown or long shirt or something?" I asked her.

"I'm so tired. I don't even care," she said.

She fell back with her legs dangling off the bed.

"At least get into bed," I said. 

I put her legs onto the bed and then pulled her to the center of the bed. I slid her shorts off, leaving her wearing only the tank top and panties. I pulled the bed covers from under her and then draped them over her. She kicked at the covers.

"Too hot?" I asked.

"Too heavy," she mumbled. She was already drifting to sleep.

I pulled the covers off of her and bunched them up beside her so she could cover up if she got cold. I closed the door halfway and then crept back into the living room. I sat down on the sofa and waited, thinking of what to do next, if there was anything to do.

Then, Jordan appeared and sat down on the big chair, obviously frustrated.

"Problems?" I asked.

"Nah," he said. "I'm just driving myself nuts. I guess I should be more understanding."

"You're being understanding. You're just letting your frustration get the best of you," I said.

"Yeah. I guess you're right," he said. "I'm being selfish. As much as I tell myself that it doesn't matter though. I'm horny and there's nothing I can do about it."

"You could always go get with somebody else," I said.

"I can't leave her here alone to just get laid," he said. He slouched in the chair and took a big gulp from his drink.

"Have to be the good husband, eh?" I said.

"Yup," he said and laughed. He finished his drink and set the empty glass on a side table. "But a couple more of these and I might just go in and take her." He laughed again.

"Why not?" I asked and smiled.

"Shit. She'd kill me," he said.

"She's been drinking. She won't wake up," I said and winked, trying to play it off.

"No, she would," he said. "Trust me I've tried before."

We both laughed.

"What guy hasn't, right?" he said.

I rolled my eyes like I was trying to play it off.

"You're laying in bed next to your girl," he said. "Things start to stir so you snuggle up to her. Next thing you're wondering if you just do it if she'd wake up and get pissed." 

"Or wake up and be happy," I added.

He nodded his head. "That too," he said. "I'll admit I have tried with her before, but she always wakes up and even if most of the time she's happy to wake up to it, the thought has crossed my mind what it would be like it she didn't wake up." 

He looked at me carefully like he was gauging my reaction to what he said. I had to reduce my own smile to a smirk. Sometimes plans seem to come together too easily. Though most of our talk the past couple of days had been leading to those type of revelations anyway.

"I think most guys could admit to the same thoughts," I said. "There's something exciting about it."

"How about you?" he asked.

"How about me what?" I replied.

"Ever try anything like that with Denise?" he said.

I laughed and shook my head. "I don't talk about that stuff," I said.

"Come on. I've been talking about this stuff for the past couple of days, going on and on. You could tell me something."

"Well, I'd be lying if I said the thought hadn't crossed my mind. She's a very attractive woman," I said and watched as he nodded his head in agreement. "She's a very deep sleeper too. I'll admit to being aroused with her when she's been sleeping, but that's all I'm saying," I said, knowing he'd push for more.

"How far did you take it?" he asked.

"Well, let's just say that she's a very deep sleeper. Especially when she's tired as she often is from the tennis and everything she does," I led him on.

"And?" he asked.

"Well, that's personal. Let's just say that even if I had done something she wouldn't know and if she did find out she wouldn't mind at all," I said and laughed.

"Nice," he said and leaned back into his chair after leaning forward on his knees prying me for information.

"Anyway, none of that matters to me right now. Tonight she needs to sleep. She hasn't slept much at all this past week. With the bit of drinking tonight she'll sleep soundly tonight and I wouldn't want to disturb her. Not that it would anyway. There could be an earthquake and she wouldn't budge. I'm just not going to bother her with my wants when she needs to sleep."

"I understand that," he said, sighing heavily. "Think she'll sleep good tonight?"

"Oh, I know it," I said. "She was asleep before I left the room. A raving mad man could do all kinds of things to her and she wouldn't know. She didn't even notice when I took her shorts off."

I saw him stir when I said that and I stopped the grin from spreading across my lips.

"I'm just going to sleep out here tonight," I said. "She's in the middle of the bed and the bed is too small anyway."

I stretched out on the couch to emphasize that I was staying there that night.

"Think you'll be able to sleep out here?" he asked.

"Easily. I'm drained and this couch feels more comfortable than that old bed in there," I said. It was obvious by his questions that he was taking the bait.

"I guess I'll head to bed then, and let you sleep," he said.

"Good night," I said.

He left the room and went back to their bedroom. I got up and turned off all of the lights except a table lamp near the hallway to the bedrooms. I figured that bit of light would allow someone, namely Jordan, looking into the living room to see me well enough to see that I'm sleeping soundly, or rather pretending to sleep soundly. I took my pants and socks off, laid on the couch on my back, and put a pillow under my head so I was facing the hallway. If Jordan walked from one bedroom to the other I'd see him and he'd be able to see me. I settled in for a wait on the couch and closed my eyes.

Time moves slowly when you're pretending to sleep. I tried to lay still, breathe like I was sleeping, and listen intently, while opening my eyes to small slants occasionally watching for him. During that time I couldn't check the time in case he might be watching and see me move. So while laying there my mind kept wandering even as I listened, watched, and waited.

My thoughts did not go where they would go later, about how my own selfish desire, my perverse obsession, had led me to put my fiancée into a situation where she could be raped again, and at a moment when she was at her weakest, when her life was as miserable as it had been since I'd known her, that all of my attempts to be supportive and loving over the last week were meaningless once I had drugged her and then tempted her brother to rape her while she was passed out so that I could watch. No, at that moment my thoughts did not go there. In those moments I was only led by my obsession.

I thought of the past three times I had seen a man have sex with Denise while she was passed out. In all three cases alcohol had been involved. That shouldn't have been a surprise. Alcohol always reduces inhibitions and causes people to do things they want to do but normally wouldn't. Alcohol is probably the most powerful tool in my arsenal for setting up these situations.

Then, I thought about the men involved. I wouldn't describe any of them as bad men. I'm sure others would think of them as bad for doing what they did to her. But without knowledge of those events I don't think most people would consider them to be bad. All of them are intelligent and seemingly normal men. Randall, my fellow medical student, would be the only one I think someone might even consider might do something like that, his character being more uncouth and boisterous than the others. 

So what is it about these men that led them to do what they did? I pondered that question. I examined each of them, thinking about their personalities, characters, and values. I compared the previous three men to Jordan. I wondered why I thought Jordan might possibly be tempted to do this as the others had. The only answer I came up with was that any man could be tempted to do something he himself might think he'd never do if the situation is right. This could probably be expanded and generalized. Maybe everybody would do something they normally wouldn't if they thought they wouldn't get caught and could get away with it. Perhaps we're all only civil and moral because we're being watched and judged. 

Then does that mean I enjoy being the one watching these men doing something they'd never do if they knew I was watching? Do I enjoy watching them do something immoral and criminal? Is this the reason I find it so stimulating? Or is it just part of the reason and the main reason is the perverse thrill of watching Denise being fucked and used by another man? 

My thoughts were broken when I heard footsteps in the hallway. The hair on my arms stood on end and I had to contain a shiver. I knew it was him and I knew my plan was working. I started breathing deep and heavy and relaxed my body to look like I was sleeping. 

I heard a door close, suspecting it was the bathroom door, which was confirmed when I heard someone using the toilet, obviously Jordan since it was the sound of a man urinating. I was surprised when I heard the toilet flush and the sink running as he washed his hands. He wasn't trying to be quiet. Perhaps he wasn't creeping his way to her bed. I sighed heavily, thinking that my plan wasn't going to work.

I heard the bathroom door open and then footsteps partway into the living room.

"Sorry if I woke you flushing the toilet," Jordan said.

I lay still, wondering if he knew I was awake, but laying still like I was sleeping.

"I didn't wake you then?" he said even louder.

I still didn't respond, just continued breathing deeply.

"I guess you really are tired and won't be waking up," he said.

I didn't hear him move for a bit and I continued faking sleep, not moving, just breathing heavy, exhaling through my nose to make a soft snoring sound. I thought maybe he was being cautious, making noise by using the bathroom and talking to me to me make sure I really was sleeping deeply. I made sure to reassure him that I was.

Finally I heard him move away from the doorway and take quiet footsteps down the hallway. He was being quieter than he had been earlier and was moving away from Rebecca's bedroom and towards Denise's bedroom. I felt my stomach clench as I knew that he was going to do it. I lay there, continuing my act and breathing the same, in case he was still listening for me or happened to come back for some reason.

I listened intently and didn't hear anything for awhile. I imagined that he was standing in her bedroom doorway watching her. I had left the bedroom curtains open and the streetlight was shining in so he'd be able to see her well once his eyes adjusted. Then, I heard him saying her name softly. He was calling out to her, seeing if she was indeed asleep. She would be. She'd be out cold until morning. 

I wanted to get up right then to see what was happening but knew it'd be better to wait, to give him time, let him get involved in what he was doing, then when I went to watch he wouldn't notice me, he'd be too involved in what he was doing to notice anything else. I listened intently and heard him a couple more times, saying her name, then nothing for a while.

After enough time had passed I sat up quietly, walked to the hallway, and peered down to her bedroom. The door was halfway open like I had left it. I figured he had slipped in and not touched the door. Imagining what was happening in the room made my skin shiver. I walked quietly towards the door peering into the room as I approached. I stayed close to the wall where he wouldn't see me if he looked out. I stood flat against the wall and then leaned forward to peer into the room until I could see him.

My eyes hadn't adjusted to the light level of the room so all I could see was his silhouette. He had crawled onto the bed and was leaning over her on his hands and knees. At first I couldn't see what he was doing but I could hear him talking in a loud whisper. He was talking to her and asking her if she could hear him. His face was right over hers so he was probably looking for some kind of response from her, but he wouldn't get any. It was daring that he was even on the bed then, but I figured he could still make an excuse if she did wake. Better she wake and see him in an uncomfortable position like kneeling on the bed than fucking her.

Then I noticed that he wasn't just looking at her. His hand was up her shirt and massaging her breast. Maybe he wasn't just seeing if she would wake. Maybe he was looking for a response to his touch, a sign of pleasure in her sleep. I couldn't be sure. The window was across the room, casting a dull light through the room, but the light from the living room created a diffuse band of light through the doorway that lay across the middle of the bed. Perhaps the extra light was why he left the door open as well. 

He was kneeling to one side of her, between her body and me, his hand under her shirt gripping her breast, with his face only inches from hers. He kept saying things to her like "Can you feel that?" and "You're liking that aren't you?" which gave me a contemptuous grin. Was he the type of guy to say silly things like that when with a woman? I always wondered if there were guys who talked like the guys in porn movies and if so if they learned it from watching too much porn.

Either he really believed me when I said she wouldn't wake or had drank so much that he didn't feel the need to be careful. He seemed to be fondling her breast rather roughly, his hand clenching and unclenching underneath the shirt. Then he lowered his head and began kissing her neck. He kept talking as he kissed and sucked on her neck and upper chest though I couldn't hear what he was saying. He was shaking from the effort of holding himself on one arm while the other hand grabbed at her breasts under the shirt, moving from one breast to the other, pinching, tweaking, and stroking.

I moved into the doorway but noticed my shadow creeping across the bed and had to move back. I pressed myself against the wall beside the door so that half of my body was in the doorway, leaving a silhouette in the visible light coming through the doorway. I liked the way my shadow draped across the floor and up the side of the bed, visible only to me in the doorway like a part of me was present in the room with them.

He moved down the bed as he pushed her shirt up and started sucking on her left breast. He grabbed her breast and squeezed to push her nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking. The mumbled words had stopped with his mouth and tongue too busy with her breast. He fondled the other breast before moving his mouth to it, licking and sucking, pulling the nipple between his lips then pulling as much of her breast into his mouth as he could. She made a soft sigh in her sleep and her head turned to the side. 

He sat up and held a breast with each hand, cupping them, then squeezed softly, rubbing his thumbs over the nipples. He seemed to be watching her face, possibly waiting for another sigh, a sign that she felt it. He began talking to her again, telling her that she had great tits and had always wanted to touch them and suck on them. He began rubbing his hands up and down her breasts, seeming to get a bit rougher as he talked, probably turned on more by his own words.

I thought his talking would take away some of the eroticism for me, but I knew that it must be something that turned him on and found myself getting more turned on as he did, just as had happened the previous times, my own arousal growing with that of the men with Denise. I cupped my erection through my underwear and rubbed it underneath, feeling it jump with the light brush of my fingers.

Then, he slid his hands up to her shoulders and down her arms. He pushed her arms up so they lay beside her head, her hands over her head on the pillow. His hands slid back down slowly to her breasts and he began massaging them, softly pinching her nipples between thumb and forefinger. He seemed to be kneading them like dough, wrapping his hands around them as much as he could, cupping them, feeling their full weight, then closing his hands softly and lifting them up, tweaking her nipples, then relaxing his hands to release her breasts softly and then cupping them again. 

He leaned over, putting his face between her breasts, and then pressed them to his cheeks. He seemed to licking the skin between her breasts as he rubbed them against his face. He moved his face from side to side, kissing each breast in turn, and then his kisses moving around her breasts. He seemed to be devouring her breasts, wanting to kiss, suck, lick, and touch every inch of her breasts. Her lips were parted and she sighed a few times but otherwise she lay limp, defenseless to his attentions to her body.




Perversions and Transgressions Ch. 04



I rubbed myself through my shorts harder. My erection felt cramped and hot inside the shorts and I wanted to pull it out, but decided to wait, afraid I'd finish too soon, and wanting to prolong the experience.

He moved down to her stomach, his hands slipping down her sides, kissing and licking her skin. His hands gripped her waist as he positioned himself over her to suck on her flat, toned stomach. He moved his knees down the bed to lean over her stomach better as he licked her belly button, then frustrated by the position put his leg over her legs so he was straddling her thighs and then pushed her legs together with his thighs, never taking his mouth from her stomach. His hands slipped up and down her sides over her waist, hips, and chest, tracing the curves of her body. He kissed across her stomach, sometimes sucking the skin between his lips, and his hands gripped her sides firmly as he pressed his cheek to her stomach and whispered to her about her sexy stomach and soft skin and how he loved the taste of her body and how he's wanted to do this for so long.

Then he pressed his lips to her stomach again and began kissing his way down further. He came to her underwear and kissed her over those, moving his knees down the bed as he moved down, his hands sliding down her side to her hips and butt. He stopped and hovered over her crotch and seemed to be inhaling deeply. Then, he kissed her through her underwear, pressing his chin into her closed thighs. He licked and kissed her as his fingers gripped the sides of her underwear, wanting to pull them down. He mumbled into her crotch that her pussy smelled so good and that he knew she wanted it, wanted him inside of her.

With a frustrated groan he sat up and pulled her panties down her legs as he moved down and off the bed, dropping her panties on the floor. He grabbed her ankles and spread her legs apart some and then sighed heavy.

"God, baby, I want to kiss you all over but I just have to fuck you," he groaned in a way that sounded more pained than aroused.

He continued talking to her, telling her how much he turned her on and how much he knew she wanted him as he hurriedly pulled his clothes from his body until he was entirely naked. His erection stood out long and hard from his body, curved and slanted up further than I had seen before. He grabbed it and stroked it a few times as he looked down at her, telling her how he was going to fuck her, fuck her how she needed and wanted.

I finally pulled my own dick out from the fly in my shorts and touched it lightly, afraid if I touched harder I would come already. I imagined what it would feel like to be him, standing nude over her, hard and ready, holding onto that anticipation before finally penetrating her.

Then he kneeled on the bed between her feet and slowly lowered himself on top of her until he was lying entirely on top of her, chest against chest, pelvis against pelvis, face to face. He looked into her face, seeming to be looking for a response as he relaxed more, allowing his weight to lie on top of her. He slid his hands under her arms, pressing his elbows into the bed to support himself. He began grinding his hips against hers, rubbing his penis on the bed.

"Do you want me inside you?" he said to her, his face only a few inches from her. "I want you to say that you want me inside you, but I can feel it. I know you want my cock. You want me so deep inside you. I can feel you breathing hard, wanting me, wanting my big cock."

As he talked he moved his hips faster, pressing his hips tightly against her. The clichéd porn words seemed to turn him on more as he spoke them, seeming to put words into her mouth that he'd want her to be saying, pretending she was begging him to fuck her, telling him how much she needed him, all the words that are meant to stroke a man's ego and make him feel like the desirable sex machine he longs to be. I had to force myself to concentrate on what he was saying and notice how it increased the enjoyment for him, increasing his arousal so that I could feel it myself standing in the hallway, feel it in my stomach curled up hard and tight, feel it pulsing across my skin.

Then, he reached down between their bodies. When his fingers touched her pussy he found her wet and warm, ready from his attentions, and told her what a slut she was for getting so wet, as he kissed the side of her face and neck. As he searched with one hand between her legs the other hand slid under arm and grabbed her hair, pulling her head back into the pillow a bit and he kissed the underside of her chin and jaw.

I couldn't see but knew he was trying to enter her when his hips slid down a bit and he began moving them back and forth. Her legs weren't spread that far so he was basically resting on her thighs, making it harder to enter her, but also making her tighter which is what he might have wanted. His head came up as he groaned and he must have finally penetrated her.

I gripped my cock hard in my fist, not moving my hand, just feeling it throb, wanting to stroke it and rub it, my fingertips lightly caressing underneath the head. 

He kept his hand wedged between their bodies as he moved his hips, pushing himself into her deeper, working into her. He looked down at her face, telling her how much and for how long he's wanted to fuck her, asking her if she liked it, knowing that's she needed it. Small sighs and grunts came from her parted lips as he moved his hips, his cock pushing into her deeper, until he pulled his hand from between their bodies and grabbed her waist tightly as he moved up her body a bit and brought his hips down, pushing into her deeper.

He began making slow movements, which is all he could do, he could not have been inside of her more than a few inches at the deepest as he lay practically entirely on top of her with her legs not spread wide enough for him to really get between them. He must have been stroking the head of his cock against her opening, pulling out until almost falling out of her and then sliding back in, moving that few inches to just rub against her tight opening. One hand was wrapped in her hair and the other held her hip tightly while his body lay flatly on top of her like he was holding her pinned to the bed.

Then, he started moving faster in those very small thrusts, groaning as he looked down at her face. It seemed like he was teasing himself, rubbing the most sensitive part of the penis inside of her opening repeatedly and rapidly, deliberately constraining his movements, not allowing himself to penetrate deeply as our bodies seem to want to do, while already so aroused from his foreplay and horny from the days of no sex, forcing himself to resist coming. I stroked just the head of my penis with my tight fist and felt it jump in my hand and had to bite my lip to resist from stroking quicker and allowing the release.

I knew I wouldn't be able to watch without coming and I really wanted to come over this scene. But I wasn't at home and couldn't just come on the carpet as I had done there. So, quietly I left the door and crept back to the living room. I flattened myself against the wall as I moved down the hallway so my shadow wouldn't move across the bedroom until I reached the living room. 

My clothes were lying on the floor and I grabbed a sock. It would work well enough. Soiling a sock would be one of the lesser disgusting things I'd do that weekend. I tried not to think how silly I looked standing there with my erection sticking out of my shorts and holding a sock for a rather obvious purpose. 

I could hear some noise coming from the room. The bed was squeaking in that soft rhythmic way that leaves no doubt what is happening on the bed. Over that I could hear him talking in a low but rough voice. If I had been laying on the couch trying to sleep then I'd have heard him fine. He was not being cautious. Possibly he was losing himself in the moment or believed that everyone was sleeping that soundly.

As I quietly entered the hallway I looked towards Rebecca's bedroom. The door was closed but if she were to wake she would probably be able to hear him, just barely, but enough. I felt a jolt through my shoulders and then a rush in my head. It was the exhilaration from the possibility of getting caught, not someone discovering me watching them, but from someone else finding him. The thought of someone else watching Denise being fucked excited me, another new feeling I hadn't expected. I didn't have time to study that feeling at that moment. It was something I'd have to contemplate later, though much earlier than I could have expected.

I gripped my cock tightly as I snuck back down the hallway, keeping close to the wall again. From the sounds of the squeaking bed he had slowed some. He had been moving so fast I was surprised he hadn't come already. Either he had excellent control or the alcohol had made him less sensitive, probably the latter. I intentionally kept close enough to the wall that I couldn't see in the room as I approached. I knew if I could see them on the bed then he'd be able to see me or my shadow.

Once I was beside the doorway I peeked into the room. My eyes needed to adjust to the low light again after being in the living room so all I could see were their shadowy shapes and movement. They were still in the same position with him on top positioned so that he was getting shallow penetration, but he was holding his upper body up now, no longer pinning her to the bed as he had, with his hands on either side of her, his arms straight. He seemed to be holding himself up to push his hips down further and he was twisting up with each thrust, pushing as deep into her as he could at that angle, which still wasn't that deep. The feeling of the underside of his cock head rubbing against her opening with each thrust must have been excruciating.

As my eyes adjusted to the light I could see her body being pushed up the bed a bit each time he pushed into her and then relaxing back when he pulled out. He began moving faster, really pushing down onto her hard with each thrust into her. His arms started trembling with the effort of holding himself up and he was breathing harder, panting, saying things to her in short choppy sentences between each quick breath.

"You like that?... You like me teasing you like that?... I can feel you like it... You're so wet... pulling me in... wanting me to go deeper.. You want my cock in you deeper?... You want it don't you?..."

Then he slowed and started fucking her like he was teasing her. He would stop, holding his hips back and up, his cock barely inside her, and talk to her, telling her he knew she wanted it, and then push into her, pressing down onto her hard, twisting up into her as far as he could, then pull back, and tell her similar things before pushing into her again. His head drooped and arms shuck with the effort of holding himself up. Then, he gave a few very quick, hard thrusts, their bodies practically bouncing up off the bed with each one before he stopped, and then lifted his butt up so he pulled himself out of her.

"I'm going to fuck you deep now, so deep like you need it," he panted.

He sat back on his heels, his erection standing out long and hard, glistening faintly in the low light with her juices. He grabbed her under the knees and pushed her legs wide, sliding them along the bed until her knees were level with her waist. He held the backs of her thighs, keeping her legs spread wide as he looked down at her.

"I can see how wet you are. I can see how much you want me. Want my cock deep inside you," he moaned.

I couldn't see between her legs from the doorway but was sure she was wet. I could imagine how her pussy would glisten, slightly red and swollen.

He lowered himself to his elbows so his face was hovering directly over her pussy while his hands wrapped around her thighs, keeping her legs spread wide. He practically dove into her pussy, licking and slurping, pressing his tongue inside of her, licking up, flicking her clit, moving his head from side to side, devouring her. Soft, whimpering noises came from her slack mouth. He stopped only to talk to her, telling her how good her pussy tasted, how he loved how she smelled, and he knew she was loving it, like he was teasing her while she begged for him to put his cock back in her.

Suddenly, as if he'd teased himself enough and couldn't wait anymore, he sat up and moved towards her on his knees, still holding the backs of her thighs, and swiftly impaled her. He held still, his head back, letting out a deep relieved groan that made me shiver like dozens of tiny cold fingers playing up and down my back. I grabbed the head of my cock in my fist tightly and slid it down the shaft, the skin feeling like it was stretched tightly, straining to contain an erection harder than I'd had in a long time.

Then he began plunging in and out of her, pulling out about halfway and then sliding back in, pushing in deeply, pressing his hips against her thighs and butt. He was hunched over her with his hands still on her thighs like he was pinning them to the bed, his knees spread wide to lower his pelvis to hers. He was looking down at her, watching his cock emerge from her pussy and then penetrating her again and again. The old bed was sunken under his knees, squeaking loudly to each rhythmic thrust.

I stroked my hard erection, matching his pace, gripping it tightly, almost painfully. I had to breathe through clenched teeth to control my panting, trying to be as silent as I could be.

"That's what you wanted isn't it," he puffed. "You wanted my cock... You were begging for it."

He started punctuating the end of each sentence with a hard jab and grunt, pulling entirely out of her and then thrusting back into her. He was panting with the effort of holding himself over her while making those long strokes. He was looking up and down her body, watching her breasts shake and her body move back and forth on the bed with his long deep thrusts. He watched her face, her head swaying limply with the motion, as he talked to her, perhaps imagining her watching him back and answering his questions while she whined and pleaded. 

Then, he wrapped his arms around her thighs and lifted them up, cradling them in his arms, lifting her hips up a bit, and he began moving faster, pulling back just a bit before pushing into her again, jamming his cock deep inside of her. Her legs hung loosely in his arms and her feet swung freely in the air, rocking with his thrusts. The bed was really creaking loudly and he could barely talk, just giving short exclamations between panting breaths and groans. His body was quivering, tight and excited, as he drove his hips back and forth, plunging himself in and out of her, lifting up a bit with each thrust into her, pushing into her as deep as he could, making her hips rise and fall with him, reacting limply to his movements, pushed and pulled with him, controlled by him and moving as he moved.

I leaned my shoulder against the wall for support, feeling dizzy from the excitement and arousal, still stroking myself, running my palm up and down underneath my dick, trying to not make any noise, feeling I needed to come, wanting to come, but forcing myself to hold on to watch him finish.

Jordan dropped forward to his hands, too tired and excited to hold himself up anymore, propping himself up with her legs still hooked over his arms, and he pumped up and down, smashing her hips and butt down into the bed, her feet swinging in the air. Her body was pushed down into the bed and relaxed back when he withdrew to be shoved back down again and again with his urgent deep thrusts like he was straining to shove his cock entirely inside of her, burying it inside of her to the root, grinding into her, their pelvises pressed together tightly, and then pulling back just to push into her again. 

He slid his feet back to the edge of the bed, stretching out so that he was mostly above her, his arms holding his upper body up at a slant and pulled back further then he had been. I could see the length of his cock slide out of her before sinking back into her, not crushing into her, pulling himself in and out of her in long fast strokes like his entire body was focused on the full motion and length of the movement. The bed shook and squealed, creaking and groaning, making a loud flapping noise as their bodies lifted from the mattress to come crushing back into it, loud enough to be heard all over the house.

He drove himself faster and deeper, too out of breath to talk anymore, straining on plunging into her as far as he could and pulling out almost all the way, slamming into her, each hard thrust punctuated by a loud slap of skin against skin and the crushing noise of bodies into the bed. She made low moans and whines as he pummeled her vulnerable body. 

Then, he thrust into her deeply and started moving in slow powerful thrusts, barely pulling out of her, jabbing into her, turning her hips up towards him each time he pushed into her, relaxing back only a bit when he pulled back, and I could tell he was about ready to finish, that he was about to come, grinding his pelvis into her hard, and punching into her again and again, fast enough that her feet jiggled helplessly in the air and her head shook back and forth and side to side with the erratic motions of the bed and her body jerking under the control of his thrusting body.

Without slowing he lowered himself down to her, dropping his chest to hers, keeping her legs held in his arms, pushing her knees to her chest. He curled his hips around her as he shoved in and out of her, his hands moving to the backs of her thighs and her butt, his fingernails digging into her skin, holding her legs pinned back with her feet flopping against his arms and butt. He held his head up enough to look into her face as he pounded into her repeatedly, groaning loudly, the bed squeaking and creaking with him. She took him in easily in her unconscious state, her body swallowing and holding him, moving with him, taking him inside.

I grabbed my cock and stroked it furiously, ready to come, wanting to come, needing it.

Her body shook limply beneath him as he moved even faster, barely pulling back at all, just grinding into her, pushing into her as deep as he could, his hands shaking as they gripped her butt, holding her folded in half, every motion concentrated on the space inside of her pussy, straining inside of her, quivering on top of her, grunting and panting, until he rose up a bit, his back arching, pushing into her as deep as he could, his body stiffening as he came. He held still for a second, letting the first spasm course down his cock, sending the first squirt of semen into her, and then thrust into her in fast quivering jabs, squirting into her.

I quickly covered my cock with my sock and came inside of it, gripping it tightly in my fist, pulling the orgasm out, clenching my teeth to stop from groaning in agonized relief.

His butt flexed as he thrust his semen into her, her pussy milking it from him, wrapped around him tightly, the orgasm seeming to ripple down his back, making him cry out loudly. Then, he relaxed, falling on top of her, still moving his hips slowly, spilling inside of her.

Still oozing inside the sock, I turned away from the bedroom door and crept back down the hallway, wanting to get back to the couch, anxious that all the noise he made woke his wife. I moved quickly, not worrying about him seeing or hearing me, knowing he was too wrapped up in his orgasm to notice anything else. Rebecca's bedroom door was still closed as I hurried into the living room and collapsed back onto the couch. I stroked a last couple of squirts out of my cock, took the sock off, stuffed it between cushions of the couch, and put my penis back into my shorts.




Perversions and Transgressions Ch. 05



My relationship with Denise had come to a crossroad. She had graduated with her B.S. in Psychology and been accepted to the graduate program she wanted, but the university was over 500 miles away from where I was attending medical school. We had started dating in college. I was a year older, had graduated a year before her, and had been able to attend medical school close to her. But she had accepted graduate enrollment at a university that was very far away. We had discussed it before she had accepted. It was an excellent program and it would have been foolish for her to pass it up. It was too important to her and her future to not accept it.

We had talked about our future in vague terms. We wanted to stay together. I had said that I could do my residency in the city where her graduate school was. Still, that was three years away. How does a couple stay together for that long when separated by that much distance? Should they even try?

We both wanted to try, but the idea of being apart that much for that long seemed an insurmountable obstacle in the path of our relationship. The thought of waiting three years to be living close together again, assuming I could even get a residency there, seemed a fuzzy wish, not a concrete plan that we both preferred.

I loved her more than I thought I ever would love someone. I still do. She's the perfect match for me and I like to think I am for her. When we started dating we seemed to immediately be at that point that takes many couples, the lucky ones anyway, years to get to, that point where the couple don't fight or bicker, where there's a common understanding and desire to help the other, all while maintaining that allure and lust that comes from just spending time with each other, conversing, touching, watching the other person. A comfort and love that seems very rare when I look at the couples around me. 

And it was because I loved her so much that I was so obsessed with watching her being used by men as she was passed out. I had no desire to watch other people used in such a manner. It was only her I fantasized about that way. 

I just couldn't consider a life without her. Beyond being beautiful, intelligent, and good-hearted, she's strong and independent. Our classmates seemed like spoiled children next to her.  She handled the abrupt and violent death of her parents with a calm solemnity.
She returned to school after a period of mourning and found the strength to focus on her studies, not by denying what had happened, but by delving into the feelings without letting them overwhelm her. Six months after the funeral she still cried on the phone when we talked and recalled stories from her past that stressing how important they had been to her. She was sad by their passing and always would be, but she also valued what they had given her. Her parents had wanted her to be successful and happy and had worked hard to offer those chances to her, and she didn't want to ruin that. She had an optimism and hope in the most difficult of experiences that I had never seen in another person.

We were going to see each other one more time before she went to graduate school. It was only mid-summer, but she was going early to settle in and start some research with a professor she was going to be assisting. We had one weekend before she left. It was during a break in my own studies so we could spend the time together. She was excited about the opportunity in front of her, but the unease in the future of our relationship dampened that excitement. I didn't want that. I also didn't want her to leave.

I must admit my reasons for not wanting her to go aren't entirely based on love, but also lust. Since I had watched her brother take advantage of her passed out body after her parents' funeral I hadn't been able to make it happen again. I'd had only one opportunity to even try and my target had not taken the bait. Now, she was going to leave and if we managed to stay together we'd see each other rarely and any opportunities to make that happen again would be difficult. 

I realized I had been very lucky to be able to witness her being fucked while unconscious four times in the past two years. Three times in just the past year. I had no idea when I could make it happen again. Or if I could make it happen again at all.

I didn't want to lose her, for both loving and immoral reasons. I saw only one way to make this work, to give us a true chance at remaining a couple through the next tough three years. I would propose to her.

Once I had reached that conclusion it seemed so obvious. Of course we should get engaged to marry. It was absurd to think of either of us with another person. Whatever it took we would be together again. An engagement would help to secure that, to reinforce that bond between us, and make those three years more solid.

Her visit that weekend would be the perfect time to propose. I'm sure it's painfully obvious but I'm not much of a romantic. I have little creativity for romance. Denise is the same so it's yet another way we pair so well. I knew making a big grand gesture would seem insincere to both of us, and probably just be embarrassing. But I wanted to make some gesture, however small, proclaiming how much I wanted her in my life, how I couldn't see it being my life if she wasn't in it.

Shopping for an engagement ring wasn't easy. I had very little money at the time. I was in medical school after all, already piling on debt, and I didn't come from a wealthy family. So, I bought a ring not nearly worth what I was asking of Denise. I promised that if she accepted it I would buy her a better ring eventually.

On the day that Denise was to be driving to me for our weekend together she called and said she'd be really late. She'd been busy packing her apartment for the move and had barely recovered from a summer cold. I was disappointed she'd be late but figured it gave me time to think of something special to do for the proposal.

I didn't want to make some grand proposal. I didn't see myself getting down on a knee and asking for her hand. I didn't want to hire a sky writer or some other absurd thing I've seen people do. These things would seem insincere to both of us. But I wanted to surprise her. I wanted to do something special for her.

I didn't have much time and I'm not very creative so the best I came up with was breakfast in bed the next morning with the ring on the tray. I went to the store and bought what I needed.

When she arrived around midnight she was tired and we went to bed immediately. We lay there for a while talking about the future, both of us avoiding discussing what we were going to do about our relationship, just talking about schools and assuring each other that three years wasn't long to wait to be together again, and that we'd find time to visit. We were young, all we had was time. But underneath was a melancholy at the long stretch of time ahead of us. I thought many times of proposing right then but it didn't feel right. It seemed desperate.

Eventually we both fell asleep but I woke early in the morning and lay there beside her wishing I could think of something. I sat up and looked down at her sleeping. I always feel so much more tender to her when I watch her sleeping. Maybe it's her vulnerability. But I always have a strong desire to touch her face, to caress her, when I watch her sleep. I brushed the back of my hand against her cheek and felt a love for her stronger than anything I had ever felt. I knew that we'd make it through those three years and be together again.

Eventually, I got out of bed, dressed, and made her a breakfast of fresh waffles with a strawberry syrup, placing strawberries slices around the plate. I put the plate on a tray with a small vase with one red rose and two glasses of champagne. I left a space between the champagne glasses for the ring. I was pleased with myself. It wasn't the biggest proposal a man could make but it fit for us.

I took the tray to the bedroom and set it down by the bed. I retrieved the ring from its hiding place and set it on the tray. I sat down on the bed next to her. She was laying on her side, facing me, her left hand draped across the bed covers. I started to wake her and then had an idea how to make it more of a surprise. 

I gingerly lifted her left hand, watching her face to make sure she stayed asleep. I splayed her fingers apart and straightened her ring finger. Very carefully I started to slip the ring onto her finger. Luckily her ring size hadn't changed since I had bought a ring for her last birthday. The ring slipped over her first knuckle smoothly, but got hung up on the second knuckle. I carefully eased it past the knuckle, twisting and turning, glancing back at her face to see if she'd waken. Getting caught doing that would probably be more awkward than romantic. I got the ring past the knuckle and slid it all the way down to the base of her finger. I smiled and set her hand back down.

I bent over and kissed her softly on the lips. I pulled back to see if it had woken her and it hadn't. So, I leaned in again and kissed her harder, pushing her lips apart with my mouth. I traced a line with my fingers from the corner of her mouth across her cheek to her ear. I softly touched her ear, tracing its curve, tickling the fine hairs.

She didn't respond, so I kissed from her mouth, across her cheek, to her ear, my fingers drifting behind her ear and the back of her neck. I kissed her ear softly, letting my tongue brush the inside. I whispered her name into her ear then squeezed her earlobe softly between my lips. I stroked the soft skin behind her ear with my thumb. Kissing her ear always turned her on, but she wasn't stirring from her deep sleep. 

I placed a line of kisses down from her ear and along the side of her neck, sucking softly at the skin after each kiss. My fingers played across the back of her neck. She tilted her head subtly in her sleep, stretching her neck to my kisses. I kissed up the front of her neck, over her chin, and to her lips again. I kissed her deeply, opening her mouth wide, my fingers moving in circles across the back of her neck.

I rolled her onto her back to kiss her harder, my fingers moving across to the front of her neck. I felt her sigh against my lips and broke the kiss to give a soft bite on her lower lip. I felt her body twitch slightly on the bed. I kissed her neck, then nibbled on her soft skin. I heard her sigh loudly and lifted my head to look at her, finally starting to waken. I held her head in my hand and kissed her deeply. I opened her mouth and touched my tongue to hers.

Slowly she woke, kissing me back, her eyes blinking open. I broke the kiss to look down at her, smiling at me, my palm now touching her cheek and jaw line, cupping her face in my hand.

"Good morning," she said and sighed.

"Good morning," I said.

She closed her eyes and lay still, letting me stroke her ear and neck.

"That feels nice," she sighed.

"Good," I said. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," she said. "But tired." She stretched and lay still again. "You should have let me sleep more."

"Sorry," I said. "But I made you breakfast and didn't want it to get cold."

I sat up, grabbed the tray, and held it over her. She smiled and pushed herself up to a sitting position.

"What's the occasion?" she asked, smiling.

I didn't respond and just smiled back at her as I set the tray across her lap.

"Is that champagne?" she asked, looking over the tray.

"Yes it is," I said.

"For breakfast?" she asked. "Now I'm really wondering what's the occasion."

I just smiled again, waiting for her to discover the ring, which she did as she reached out for the glass with her left hand. Her hand stopped before touching the glass. She turned her hand to the side and looked at the ring on her finger. She stretched her fingers out, staring at the ring.

"What...," she started.

"Will you marry me?" I said.

She didn't say anything for a while. She looked from the ring to me and back again. I don't know if she was thinking it over or surprised or groggy from sleep. But I started to worry that she was going to say no.

"Of course," she finally said.

Her face scrunched up, then she started to cry. She leaned toward me and hugged me, knocking the tray onto the floor. I hugged her back and let her cry. She seemed to be crying not just out of happiness, but out of relief, like some huge tension had just been released from her. I'm sure it was all a mix of things from our emanate separation to her graduation to the death of her parents, and probably many other things. 

I held her for awhile until her crying stopped. She held her hand up behind my back and looked over my shoulder at the ring.

"Sorry it's not bigger," I whispered into her ear.

"It's beautiful," she said. "I love it."

"Someday I'll get you a bigger one, one you deserve," I promised.

"I don't want another one," she said.

She pulled back and kissed me. At first she kissed me softly. Her cheeks were still wet and her lips tasted salty from her tears. Then, she kissed me harder and deeper. She held me tighter. I kissed her back, our mouths open and tongues touching. She pulled me towards her and onto the bed.

She was ravenous. I hadn't seen her so excited in a while. Her hand was rubbing my groin through my pants before she even had me on my back. She writhed on top of me, kissing me, stroking my penis through my pants, getting me hard. Then she pulled my pants and underwear down my legs and had my penis in her mouth. She took the full length into her mouth and throat and began moving her head up and down rapidly. My body tensed and I grabbed her head to slow her down. She was going to make me come just doing that. 

She lifted her head up and looked at me as she peeled her nightshirt and panties off. Then, she straddled me, her hand holding the base of my penis, and put it inside of her as she sunk down on to me until her butt rested on my hips, my penis encased inside of her. She sat up straight on top of me, grabbed my hands, and placed them on her breasts. Then, she began lifting her body up and down, sliding me in and out of her. She did this slowly at first, her pussy tight and barely moist, but opening and becoming slick quickly, then she began thrusting herself on top of me. I fondled her breasts more roughly as she moved faster, tweaking her nipples, then pulling on them, making her cry out so she grabbed the backs of my hands, holding onto me.

I watched the slick shaft of my penis between her legs, moving in and out of her, her firm thighs tensing and straining as she moved up and down, pushing her body down hard and twisting her hips, making her flat stomach tremble. I slid my hands from her breasts to her hips and held on as she began humping faster and harder. She leaned forward, putting her hands on my shoulders, and looked down at me, her eyes intense.

"Fuck me, please," she said.

I had never heard her say anything like that before, but I immediately responded. I held onto her hips tightly and began thrusting up into her, meeting her rapid pace. She threw her head back, whipping her hair back, and cried out as I hit her somewhere deep inside. She slammed her butt down on me, churning her hips, crashing into me again and again. I watched her breasts jostling above me and looked down her straining body to where we were joined. 

She was gorgeous, her body athletic and so womanly, round hips and tight waist, firm thighs that wrapped around me, grasping my waist, as she jammed her body up and down, back and forth, trying to take me inside of her as deep and hard as she could. I punched my hips up, shoving into her, as she pushed down and against me. My fingers dug into her hips tightly as I tried to hold my own orgasm back. I clenched my teeth and looked up at her face as she looked down at me again, her hair falling down surrounding us. 

"Come with me," she whispered.

She jammed her hips down against me, pumping her hips in small hard thrusts, shoving me into her deep and tight, grasping me tightly inside of her, almost too tight for an instant, then letting go, and I thrust up into her once more and exploded inside of her. She dropped her head down beside me, her cheek against mine, wrapped her arms around my neck, and moaned in my ear as she thrust her hips back hard again and again. I pushed my hips up and held them there letting her move around me, letting her use my cock as her orgasm engulfed her, letting her pull my semen from my body, spurt after painfully blissful spurt. I held onto her thrusting hips, my body tight, feeling I was leaving a pool of my come inside of her.

Then, she lay still, her body laying flat on top of me, panting in my ear. I slid my hands up her body and wrapped my arms around her back and held onto her as she held on to me. We lay there for a while, letting our orgasms fade, feeling my penis dwindle inside of her until it slipped out, making us both sigh. A trickle of semen dripped from her onto me.

"Of course I'll marry you," she whispered into my ear. "I love you."

"I love you too," I whispered back.

We fell asleep like that and woke a short time later, feeling sticky but comfortable. I left her in bed while I cleaned up the mess from her breakfast tray and brought us a light brunch to bed, where we spent the rest of the morning, talking and touching. We decided to wait to marry until I graduated from medical school and had joined her at her university. So it was to be a long engagement.

We ended up spending most of that day in bed. I left once to get her some medicine for the cold she was still fighting. But mostly we stayed in bed, talking and making plans, now sounding much more optimistic than are conversations in bed the previous night. By dinnertime we were both hungry and ready to do something.

"Let's go out to eat," Denise said as she was getting dressed.

"Sounds good to me," I replied.

"And then let's go dancing," she added.

I stifled a groan. I hate dancing. I know Denise loves it and have tried to do it with her on a few occasions, but I just have no capacity for it. I do enjoy watching her dance however. She has that ability to really lose herself in music and allow her body to move with it. And there is nothing I enjoy more than to watch her body move.

"I know you hate it," she said and wrapped an arm around my waist.

She hadn't put on a shirt or bra and pressed her bare breasts against me.

"I'll make it worth your while," she said and kissed me.

She wriggled against me, brushing her nipples across my bare chest and then pressing her thigh between my legs.

"This seems like bribery," I said, breaking the kiss.

"Call it what you want," she said, pulling away playfully.

"What about your cold?" I asked.

"I'll take some more medicine for it," she replied. "Besides I'm almost over it."

She stood in front of me and watched me as she slowly put on her bra. I watched her and then sighed heavily and nodded.

"Okay," I said, surrendering.

She smiled and hugged me again, placing a soft kiss on my lips.

"Can we go somewhere at least somewhat quiet, though?" I asked. "You know that thump thump bass music just gives me a headache."

I wasn't just trying to get out of going dancing. I honestly can't stand that loud bass. It gives me a headache and makes me physically ill. I can't think. I can't concentrate. The constant booming pierces my brain and messes me up.

"Of course," she said. "I was already thinking of that."

She stepped back and started getting dressed again. I sat down on the edge of the bed and just watched her. I think I love watching her get dressed more than getting undressed.

"I was thinking we could go do some country dancing," she said.

"That sounds better than some loud rave club," I said, watching her pull a shirt over her head then run her fingers through her long hair. "But I don't know how to do that line dancing stuff."




Perversions and Transgressions Ch. 05



"They'll teach you," she said. "Or you just follow me. And it's not all like that."

She sat beside me on the bed, wrapped her arms around my arm, and snuggled in closely. She wasn't wearing pants yet, only her small g-string panties, and hooked one luscious bare leg over my leg, moving her knee towards my crotch.

"There will be some slow dances too," she said, her chin resting on my shoulder, looking at me.

"Okay," I said, my eyes moving from her face to her leg now rubbing my inner thigh and groin.

"And I can wear something really nice..." she said, placing a hand on my knee and sliding it up my thigh to her leg, "... and sexy for you."

I laid my hand on her leg, letting my fingers wrap around her inner thigh.

"What did you bring?" I asked.

I pictured some of my favorite outfits of hers like the white frilly skirt that only went halfway down her thighs and the tight blue blouse that stretched across her breasts and waist.

"Not much," she said. "I packed mostly everything. We'll have to go shopping."

"Okay," I said, not thinking that I didn't have the money for it.

We kissed and stroked each other some more, starting to lay back on the bed, before she suddenly popped up and continued getting dressed.

"It's getting late already. We should go," she said, smiling at me impishly.

I groaned, feeling my erection in my underwear. I stood up and hobbled to the dresser to get dressed.

"Do you know a place that has country dancing?" she asked.

"No," I said, trying to will my erection away as I got dressed.

"I'm sure there are some places in the city," she said.

"I don't know anything about that," I said. "Not really something I'd know about."

"I'll do an internet search," she said.

"Or I could call Randall," I said. "He goes out a lot, at least he talks about going out a lot. I don't remember him mentioning any country bars, but he might know."

"Okay," she said and went to the bathroom to get ready.

After I was dressed I called Randall. He's a friend of mine at the medical school. He was actually the first person I tried to get to fuck Denise when she was passed out but it didn't work on him that time. Instead that time a professor of mine fucked her. I did however get Randall to do it once last year. He's a rapacious guy, always telling anyone who'll listen about the outrageous stuff he does. His family is rich and obviously taught him little about morals and values. One would assume he got into the school with the help of his family, which might be true, but turns out he's very smart, just not organized or motivated. We formed somewhat of a friendship. I helped him with notes from the many classes he missed. I watched him fuck Denise while she was passed out once without him knowing. That's the basis for our friendship.

I called him up and was surprised he actually answered. The few times I had called him, usually returning his calls, I had to leave voice messages.

"What's up?" he said.

"Hi Randall," I said. "This is Michael."

"I know," he replied. "Whatcha need?"

"Actually, Denise is here with me this weekend," I said.

"Nice," he interjected. I had my thoughts on why he said that.

"And we want to go do some country dancing," I continued.

"You? Dancing?" he asked and laughed.

"Yeah," I said, actually laughing to myself some. "Trust me it's not my idea."

"I could have told you that," he replied.

"Well," I continued. "I don't know of any place to go and was hoping you could give me an idea for a good place to go."

"Oh yeah," he said. "It's not really something I do but I've gone to some places. To check out the chicks. Nothing like a chick in cowboy boots."

"Yeah," I said, my usual response to anything he said I didn't want him to continue talking about.

"Unfortunately those places tend to have more old chicks, you know?" he said.

"Okay. So got an idea for a good place to go then?" I said, trying to get him to answer my question.

"Sure. The best place for that would be Country's Red River," he said. "They tend to have a slightly younger crowd and more fun than the old fart places."

"Thanks," I said. "Where is it?"

He gave me rough directions but I figured I'd just look it up on my phone anyway.

"So think you'll go there tonight?" he asked.

"Looks like it," I said. "We need to do some shopping and go eat, but we'll get there some time tonight. She's set on it."

"Big night, eh?" he said.

"Yeah, we're engaged," I said.

I pulled the phone away from my ear as he broke out into loud laughter.

"What a fuckin' moron," he finally said through his laughter.

"Thanks for the congratulations," I said.

"Oh, man, I ain't congratulating a guy for throwing his life away," he said, then stopped laughing. "But whatever, not like you're out there hittin' the hotties anyway. Might as well tie yourself down."

"Might as well," I said.

"Have fun, man," he said and hung up.

I looked up directions to the club on my phone and saw it wasn't too far away, about a twenty minute drive into the city. Once Denise was ready I told her I found a place to go dancing, and we left.

First, we went shopping for clothes, which now that I wasn't watching her getting dressed seemed like a bad idea. Denise promised she could find some stuff cheap and it'd be worth it. She was right. She ended up finding a short denim skirt that came down to mid-thigh when she stood up and rose higher when she sat down, high enough she had to cross her legs to keep from showing her tiny thong underwear. She found a cheap used pair of brown faux leather boots that she was sure would make her feet ache by the end of the night but the price was right. Then, she got a white long-sleeved shirt with blue flower designs down the front of the shirt that was so tight she could barely button it around her breasts and left her bra visible through the thin fabric. She showed how she could tie up the bottom of it to show her stomach and lower back later in the evening, then unfurled it and tucked it into her skirt. We looked at hats but they were too expensive. She looked incredible. 

I found a used pair of boots for myself, but hated the way they felt. I had a pair of jeans and then bought some long-sleeved brown shirt with white pistols on the front that she picked out. It was tighter than anything I would pick out for myself but she liked it. I didn't feel like a cowboy or even like I was going for some country dancing, just like some doofus in cowboy boots, but Denise was happy, which is what mattered.

Sitting in my car driving to dinner I laid my hand on her bare thigh and it kept drifting up under her skirt. She didn't stop it.

We went out for steak at a local family steakhouse. I figured it went with the theme for the night. Walking to our table I saw the dads, and even the sons, at the tables watching Denise walk by. I always felt pride and excitement seeing other men watching her. Walking behind her and seeing her ass undulate beneath that tight denim skirt I could understand why anyone would be watching her.

It was already past the dinner rush by the time we got there and we were both starving. She had Texas margaritas at the restaurant, drinking several during our dinner. I drank a couple of beers slowly.

It was a nice dinner. We talked a lot. This time when we talked about our future plans it was with optimism, knowing we'd be together through this and there was now a plan for the future. We had to make those plans more definite, but we would and we had time to do it.

During dinner she put my hand on her thigh then crossed her legs, trapping my hand between them. I left it there until I grudgingly had to remove it to cut my steak.

By the time we were done the restaurant was almost empty and it had been dark outside for a while. We left the restaurant with Denise hanging onto my arm and then drove to the dance club.

The club was packed. We paid to get in and got two stools at the bar as two people left. She got another margarita and I got a beer. She pulled her skirt down some to not show anything while sitting on the stool, then tied up the bottom of her shirt, exposing her flat stomach. I wrapped my arm around that bare skin and kissed her. She kissed me back and settled back on the stool.

"Let's watch for a bit, and then we'll get you out there," she said, leaning in to talk to me over the music.

So we sat at the bar for a while watching the dancers. The music was loud but not irritating and even somewhat enjoyable. I'm not a music fan in general but that music was innocuous enough that it didn't bother me. The instructor classes had been done earlier in the night and now people were out there dancing. There were a couple of line dances which looked fairly simple and there were even people out there that didn't look like they knew what they were doing, so I felt I wouldn't at least be the only person making a fool of myself out there. After Denise was done with her drink she took my hand and drug me onto the dance floor.

I actually did end up enjoying it. Well, I didn't enjoy the dancing much. I felt clumsy and slow. I enjoyed the time close to her, touching her, and also seeing the men out there glancing at her too. We danced for a few songs then went back to the bar for drinks and back to dancing and back and forth a few times. I especially enjoyed the couples dances, whether fast or slow, where I got to be really close to her and feel her body pressed to mine. My hands inevitably found their way to her bare back or stomach. Her hands seemed to be constantly brushing against my crotch or grabbing my butt. It was all a long round of foreplay and I couldn't wait to get home.

Then, the night took a sudden shift. We were dancing again, some line dance I was stumbling through. She was actually stumbling a bit too after all of her drinks that night. I saw Randall standing at the bar. He was leaning against the bar between two stools. He seemed to be with a group of people, none of whom I recognized, all too old to be medical school students. He was looking right at me, or rather right at Denise.

Denise jerked on my hand once as I had missed a few steps and I looked back at her, trying to follow her lead, but I kept glancing at Randall at the bar watching her. I shouldn't have been so surprised to see him there. He had known exactly where we were going and it was just like him to show up there to make fun of me for dancing and to get a look at Denise. 

With everything that had been happening that night between Denise and I, the engagement, the foreplay, feeling closer than we had in a while, I started plotting. That he was there definitely wasn't an accident. He was there to watch her. And probably without much manipulation on my part I could get him to fuck her.

When the song was over we walked to a tall table near the dance floor and sat down on two stools. Randall had turned away from watching us and was talking to his friends. 

"My feet are getting sore," Denise said.

"Mine too," I said.

"But it's worth it," she added.

She flagged down a waitress and ordered another drink.

"Anymore of those and I'll be carrying you home," I said.

"You wish," she said and winked at me. I forced out a laugh.

"I need to go to the ladies' room," she said, standing up. 

She walked over to me and pushed her body between my legs and kissed me. She slid her hands up and down my thighs. I cupped her butt and squeezed making her pushing her tongue into my mouth. She pulled away and touched her finger to my lips.

"Watch my seat," she said.

"Oh I will," I promised and watched her butt as she walked away, moving her hips in exaggerated but sexy swerves, with a quick look back at me, and a smile.

I grinned and turned back to the table as she went down the hallway to stand in line for the restroom. I looked back at the bar and saw Randall again, still talking to his friends, none of whom looked like they belonged at the club and none of whom looked to be enjoying it.

The waitress brought our drinks and set them on the table, another margarita for Denise and a soda for me. I looked at Randall again and wondered how I could make it happen. I had to get him away from his friends and somehow to get him home with us. I'd have to drug her before that. Maybe drug her here and get him to help me with her to the car. Then, offer to take him home, but say his place was too far, which it was further away than my apartment, and he could sleep on my couch. It was very similar to the way I had gotten him to fuck her last time, but that's what might entice him again. I decided it was worth a shot. This would be my only chance for a long time.

I looked towards the hallway to the restrooms and didn't see her coming out. I pulled my wallet from my back pocket. I had started keeping some of the drug crushed into a powder in a baggie hidden in my wallet whenever I was going to see Denise. I had put the baggie in my wallet this evening before we left. Always be prepared.

I pulled the baggie out, palmed it, and put the wallet back in my pocket. I looked around me as I pulled her margarita closer to me, seeing if anyone was watching me. Everyone around me was involved with the other people or watching the dance floor. I opened the baggie with my other hand then held the bag in my palm and cupped my hand around it. I held my hand over the glass, letting the powder fall into it, pulled the glass to me, and pretended to take a drink through the straw as I watched the powder fall into the glass. When the bag was empty I crinkled it into my palm and stirred the straw, watching the powder disappear into the drink. Satisfied the powder wasn't visible I shoved the baggie into my pocket and pushed the drink back to her seat.

I looked around me to see if anyone noticed me but everyone was still involved as they had been before. Then, I looked to the bar and Randall was looking directly at me. I was startled at first, looked away, then looked back, trying to look calm. I nodded at him and he nodded back. He started to walk over and I tensed up. Then, Denise showed up, touched my shoulder as she walked by and sat down at her stool.

"I was hoping my drink would be here," she said and took a big sip through the straw.

"Yeah," I said, watching Randall walk towards us.

"Hey guys," he said, stopping in front of us.

"Hey Randall," I said.

"Hi," Denise said, her voice not sounding as cheerful.

"Hey Denise," he said to her, staring at her intently. "You look great as always."

"Thanks," she said, then looked at me, her eyes pleading with me to get rid of him.

She hadn't liked him the first time she met him at Dr. Engelhart's party. He had that effect on many people. He didn't hide his avarice.

"You guys looked good out there. Even you, buddy," he said and slapped my shoulder. "Guess you got a good teacher."

"The best," I said, looking at her, letting her know he'd be gone soon.

"Mind if I get a dance?" he said.

Denise sat up straight and stared at me, her eyes wide.

"You're not my type," I said.

Randall broke into laughter.

"Good one," he said and took a swig from his beer.

"It's a special night," I replied. "I think I'll keep her to myself."

"Uh huh," he said, grinning at me. 

He looked around the club, his eyes searching.

"There are some girls here I wouldn't mind dancing with I guess," he said. "You guys take it easy."

He walked away, approaching a group of girls standing together a few tables away from us.

"I'm glad he's gone," Denise said and took another big sip from her drink. "He creeps me out."

"He creeps everyone out," I added.

"Let's finish our drinks and go dance some more," she said.

"Hopefully it'll be a slow one. I could use the break," I said.

And it was a slow one. We finished our drinks, Denise tipped hers up to get the last of it, and a slow song started. We went out, held onto each other, and moved back and forth with the music. It was nice. She laid her head on my shoulder and I stroked her hair down her back. As we moved around I saw Randall talking to the girls at the table. They were laughing at him so he was having some success.

I wondered if this was going to happen just like that first time when he went home with some other girl. I had to figure out a way to keep him interested but without alienating Denise. I was thinking it might be harder than I thought.

The next song was faster so we separated some and danced together. I saw Randall come onto the floor with the most attractive girl from that group. As they danced he found many opportunities to touch her. He joked around with her and she laughed. They were having a good time. After that song, we sat down, this time finding an empty booth since the club was starting to empty out. Denise dropped her head back against the seat back and sighed heavily.

"I think I had too much to drink," she said.

"Want anything else or should I pay our tab?" I asked her.

"I'm done," she said, then sat up and moved in closer to me. "At least with drinking." 

She looked at me knowingly and kissed my neck, making me tremble.

I asked myself what I was thinking drugging her and trying to get Randall to fuck her that night. We were so close to each other and there I was thinking of doing something so awful to her. It was supposed to be a nice romantic sexy night. Just the two of us. Together. Celebrating our engagement. Celebrating our relationship. Instead I had drugged her and was hoping to get a man she despised to have sex with her while she was passed out. I almost started to feel disgust for myself. Almost.

She grabbed my penis through my jeans, washing away any of those thoughts, making me horny again, making me want to make it happen even more.

"I hope this night hasn't been too hard for you," she said, her fingertips tracing the outline of my hardening dick through my pants.

"No," I said, my hand sliding up her inner thigh. "It's been wonderful."

"Feels like it," she said, giving me a squeeze.

I slid my hand under her skirt and she spread her thighs wide. I touched her panties and felt they were damp. I arched my eyebrows at her.

"Seems like it's getting damp out now," I said.

"It's been damp," she said.

She pressed her thighs together, trapping my hand for a moment, and clenched her butt a few times, rubbing herself against my hand. Then, she spread her thighs apart again and slid across the seat and away from me.

"Let's dance a bit more, first," she said, standing up and holding her hand out.

"Going to have to give me a minute," I said, glancing down at my crotch and the erection in my pants.

She smiled, leaned against the table, and waited.

Once I was ready we went back out onto the dance floor. The songs were slower now with no more line dances. I looked around and saw Randall out there with another girl. He grinned at me when the girl's back was to me and pointed at her ass which was particularly large and firm. I rolled my eyes at him and smiled.

After a couple of songs, Denise was leaning against me heavily, her head on my shoulder, and barely moving her feet with the soft music.

"You falling asleep on me?" I asked her finally.

"I am pretty tired," she said quietly into my shoulder.

She lifted her head up and looked at me. Her eyes were half-closed and she looked like she could fall asleep right there.

"Let's sit down for a minute," she said. "I feel kind of dizzy."

I led her back to the booth and set her down. She leaned back with her head against the back of the booth. I sat down on the other side and watched her.

"How you feeling?" I asked.

"Okay," she said, dropping her head lazily to look at me. "I think I drank too much. And someone woke me up early this morning and kept me in bed all day."





Perversions and Transgressions Ch. 05



She held her hand up with the engagement ring then let it drop back to the table. She smiled and laid her head back again. 

I looked around the club. There weren't many people there anymore. I didn't even see the people Randall had come with. I saw him on the other side of the dance floor, talking to the girl he had been dancing with. She said something to him, then walked away with three other girls and left the club. He stood there alone, watching them go, then looked around. He saw me looking at him and walked across the dance floor to me.

"That sucked," he said, when he got to our table.

"What's that?" I asked.

"No fish are biting tonight," he said. He looked at Denise, looking about to fall asleep. "Looks like you're losing yours too."

"Yeah, it's getting late," I said. "We're probably about to go."

Randall looked around the club.

"Looks like my ride left me," he said. "Think I can get a ride with you?"

"Of course," I said, having to stifle the instant giddiness from him asking that. Sometimes things just start to come into place.

"Well I'm in no rush," he said. "So, just grab me when you're ready."

"I think we're ready now," I said. I stood up, walked over to the other side of the booth, and touched Denise's shoulder. "You ready to go, hon?" I asked

She jerked her head up and looked at me through bleary eyes.

"Yeah," she said. "I think I need to go home."

I helped her up. She put her arm around my back, holding onto me, and I put my arm around her waist and led her out of the club. Randall followed us. I was sure he was watching her from behind.

When we got to my car I unlocked the doors and opened a back door. 

"You can ride up front with me. I think she might want to lay down," I said to Randall. 

I set her down on the seat behind the passenger seat and she scooted over, leaned back against the seat, her head falling back, and seemed to go right to sleep.

Randall walked over to the driver side of the car, opened the back door, and sat in the back seat.

"I think I'll let you chauffer me, Jeeves," he said and closed the door when he got in.

I frowned but got in the car, started it up, and drove away.

"Hey, Randall," I told him. "Your place is kind of far away, mind crashing at my place tonight and I can take you home tomorrow."

Denise would be pissed to see him in my apartment tomorrow morning but I thought maybe I could get home before she woke up. I'd figure that out tomorrow morning. I just wanted to get them both to my apartment.

"Whatever, man," he said.

We drove for a while in silence. I drove carefully. I'd had a few beers, probably not enough to get a DUI but I didn't want to risk it. Using the rearview mirror I kept glancing at Randall and Denise in the backseat. Denise was slumped over some now, leaning towards him, her arms slack at her sides, her legs parted and stretching the denim skirt. I probably would have seen her panties if I had turned on the dome light.

Randall kept glancing over at her then looking back in front of him or out his window but always back to her. After a few minutes he broke the silence.

"So you think she's passed out yet?" he said.

"What?" I asked, unsure if I had heard him right and startled by the break in the silence.

"I asked if you thought she was passed out yet," he said.

"Does she look like it?" I asked, wondering what he was asking. "I guess she did have a lot to drink."

Randall moved across to the middle of the seat and up against her. He looked into her face that was tilted towards him.

"Hey, babe," he said loudly. "You passed out yet?"

She didn't say anything or even move.

"I hope she's okay," I said, trying to sound concerned.

He grabbed her chin and moved her head side to side. Her mouth fell open some and her head rocked back and forth.

"She's breathing fine," he said. "But she ain't waking up."

"I guess she drank too much," I said. 

"Or could have been those pills you gave her," he said, now looking at me through the rearview mirror.

I looked back at him in the mirror for a long moment then stuttered, "What?"

He smiled and shook his head.

"I saw you," he said.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I replied.

He laughed and shrugged his shoulders.

"Whatever," he said.

He looked back at Denise, laying passed out next to him. He turned towards her, putting his arm on the seat back behind her so her head rested on his arm, and looked at her closely. 

"She is beautiful," he said. "I mean more than just a hot piece of tail. Which she is that. But she's also got something else doesn't she?"

He looked back at me in the mirror.

"I guess," I said, worried where all this was going.

I had to keep forcing myself to watch the road and traffic signals. Luckily there weren't many cars out on the road.

He brushed some hair from her face and leaned in to look at her face.

"You passed out yet!" he suddenly yelled at her.

She didn't respond at all.

"Yeah, you doped her up good," he said.

"Look, Randall, I don't want you're..." I started.

"Just drop it, Mike," he said. "I got it all figured out."

I tensed up. I looked from him in the rearview mirror and back to the road in front of me, trying to not look worried, just confused.

"I had my suspicions that night I fucked her at your apartment," he said.

I flinched and felt my shoulders pulling in tightly so I was hunched over the steering wheel. I tried to force myself to sit up straight, not wanting to look so guilty.

"You... fucked her?" I said, feeling my throat dry and tight.

"Get off it," he said loudly. "You were watching it."

I stopped at a red light and looked at him in the mirror. He looked back at me, lowering his head some. 

"You watched and jerked off right there," he said quietly.

"I..." I started, but couldn't say anything.

"You sick fuck!" he said and laughed.

I looked away from him and back at the traffic light, willing it to turn green. Why was the damn light taking so long?

"Hey man, I ain't judging," he said, leaning back in the seat. "Whatever gets you off, you know?"

I glanced back at him in the mirror. He was looking at her again, now leaning in towards her.

"I'm sure some people would think I'm sick for the shit I like," he said. He laid his left hand high up on her leg and caressed her thigh. "Like banging passed out chicks," he continued.

The light was green. I hadn't seen it change, it was just suddenly green. I stepped slowly on the accelerator.

"But you knew that didn't you?" he asked me.

He slid his hand up and down her thigh from knee to up under her skirt, back and forth. I thought to myself that I should stop him, but I didn't. I felt caught, trapped. He knew all about it. How long had he known? What would he do about it? I didn't know what to say or do. I didn't think there was anything I could say or do. All I could do was drive.

"You heard me talk about it before," he said. "I talk a lot. I know that. Everyone else is so damn boring. I'm sure I told you about some experience with a chick I had got drunk or stoned or whatever. You latched onto that. Figured I was just the demented bastard you needed."

He was right of course. I remembered him telling stories like that and so had picked him as my first target. It seemed it would be easy to get him to do it.

I glanced into the mirror and he had moved closer to her, pressing his body against her. His hand was completely under her skirt.

"She's like a cheerleader or something," he said, his eyes traveling over her body. "That body is just so tight."

"She's a tennis player," I heard myself say, almost jumping at the sound of my own strained voice.

"Oh yeah," he said. "I can see that."

He slipped his hand from under her skirt and started stroking her bare stomach, his hand moving back and forth slowly.

"She's like a swimsuit model from a magazine," he said. "But smarter, right?" He looked back at me in the mirror.

"Yeah," I said and nodded.

"Yeah, I can see why you're going to marry her," he said.

I bit my lip at that statement. This was the very day I had proposed marriage to her and she had accepted. Now she was passed out in the back seat of my car being groped by a guy she thought was too creepy to even talk to.

He moved his hand from her stomach to her breasts, gently grabbing each breast through her shirt.

"And nice tits too," he said. "Not huge, but nice for an athletic chick."

He rubbed her breasts, moving back and forth across them both. Then, he brought his right arm from behind her and started unbuttoning her shirt.

I knew right then that I should stop him. That was basically my last chance. If I let him completely unbutton her shirt then that'd be it. He'd be able to do whatever he wanted to her. And it would confirm everything he already suspected. But I didn't do anything. I was hypnotized by what was happening. I felt I couldn't do anything. Plus, I must admit I was getting turned on too.

Once her shirt was unbuttoned he pulled it aside, revealing her bra.

"Those tits are so firm she doesn't need a bra," he said.

He reached around her, circling his arms around her. At first I thought he was going to kiss her, but I knew he had unsnapped her bra in back when he sat back and pushed her bra up, letting her breasts stand out firm and full.

"Wow," he said.

He grabbed one breast in each hand like a kid trying to steal candy from a jar. 

"What great tits," he said. "You really doped her up good if she isn't waking up from this."

He was right. He was massaging them roughly with both hands, pressing his fingers in deep, and letting her breasts spring back, playing with them, twisting them. She'd have hated having her breasts touched like that if she was awake. 

He looked up from her breasts to her face. He leaned in closely, watching her sleeping soundly.

"She's got great lips too," he said. "Dick sucking lips."

Then he sat back in the seat, opened the zipper of his pants, and pulled his erect penis out.

"I think we should test that though, don't you?" he asked, looking at me in the mirror.

I looked back at him for a moment, chewing on my lower lip. Then, I nodded.

"That's what I thought," he said and turned back to her.

He grabbed her head and pulled her down towards him as he scooted away from her until her head was at his stomach. He slid down on the seat, spreading his legs wide. Her body tilted to the side over him, her shoulder settling against his hip, and the side of her head resting at his stomach and pelvis.

I almost passed my apartment building but recognized where I was in time and turned into the parking lot.

"We're at my apartment," I said.

"Your apartment?" he said. "Take me to my place."

I hesitated, not sure what to do.

"You live a bit from here..." I started.

"We'll figure out something to do with the time," he said, grinning.

I nodded, turned the car around, and pulled back out on to the road. As I started driving to his house I adjusted my mirror down so I could no longer see out the back window, the rearview mirror framing his crotch and cock and Denise's face. She was facing mostly forward and down some, her eyes closed, her mouth open a bit, and his erection pointing up in front of her.

Holding her head in one hand he grabbed his dick with the other, pointed it back, and led it into her mouth. The head slipped between her lips easily, then her lips slid along as his shaft, which opened her mouth some as he lifted his hips, sliding into her.

"Ah," he sighed. "I've been needing that all night long"

He lifted her head up some, holding it in both hands, one holding her jaw so his fingers could hold her mouth closed as firmly as he wanted. He started twisting his hips up and down, back and forth, sliding his dick in and out of her mouth.

I wrapped my hands tightly around the steering wheel and felt my head getting lighter from the excitement. I was surprised I was even getting excited by this. This wasn't like what I had done in the past. I had always watched them secretly. Now Randall was performing in front of me, knowing I was watching. I hadn't manipulated the situation. In fact, I had been manipulated. Now I was driving Randall home while he took advantage of my fiancée in the back seat and I watched in the mirror. I just had to make sure I kept looking back at the road as I drove and not go so slow I got pulled over.

In the mirror I could see his dick sliding between her lips. Her right cheek bulged out some each time, the head slipping along her cheek and then deeper into her mouth. He held her head in his left hand and his right gripped her lower jaw, pushing it shut around him, his fingers pushing her lips tightly to his shaft.

"Whoa," he said. "Got some teeth with that one."

He started rubbing just the head of his penis over her lips, slipping in and out, his thighs clenching and hips churning.

"So what drug you give her?" he suddenly asked.

I turned the mirror up some so I could see his face.

"Nothing," I said.

He smiled and nodded.

"A trade secret," he said.

No matter what he had figured out I wasn't going to admit to anything. Though I guess I was admitting to plenty by doing nothing to stop him and actually watching him do it. But I had to stand my ground somewhere. I couldn't let him take total control.

"I'm guessing it's not a benzo," he said.

He looked down at her. I tilted the mirror back down to see what he was doing. He took his hand from her jaw and opened her right eye, leaning over to look down.

"She's not just dazed or out of it," he said. "She just fucking passed out. Like a deep sleep."

He let her eye close then lifted her head some and tilted it so she was facing down a bit more. He started lifting and lowering her head as he raised and dropped his hips, sliding almost the full length of his erection into her mouth and to her throat then pulling back.

"Maybe a sleeping pill," he continued. "But it worked pretty fast and she's not responding at all."

I didn't say anything. I didn't move my head or let my facial expression change any. I just kept driving.

"How about if I do this?" he asked.

He pushed his dick deep into her mouth, pushing her head down, his fingers holding her lower jaw open, until her face was practically in his crotch. He made a few small jabbing motions. Suddenly her head jerked back a bit. He lifted her head and pulled his dick from her mouth. She made a small coughing noise then went back to breathing deeply again. Her eyes never opened.

"Gag reflex is working," he said amusedly.

I was actually surprised that she hadn't woken from that. It was one thing to have her bent over awkwardly in the backseat and fucking her mouth, but a whole other thing to stuff his dick into her throat and block her breathing.

He grabbed her shoulders and lifted her gently back up to a sitting position, leaning her against the seat and door. I tilted the mirror back up. He was looking at her closely while he stroked his erection lightly with one hand.

"So you drugged her that time I fucked her at your apartment?" he said, glancing at me in the mirror before turning back to her.

I didn't reply.

"I thought you were just telling the truth about her sleeping heavy," he continued.

He placed one hand on her leg and slid it up and down her thigh.

"But you must have slipped her something that time too," he said. "Like in the club just now."

I tilted the mirror down again to watch his hand slip under her skirt and between her legs. 

"She's really fuckin' wet," he said and sighed.

He pushed her skirt up and in the dark I could barely see his hand stuffed between her spread thighs, his fingers stroking her pussy through her panties.

"Does getting engaged get a chick that hot?" he asked. "Or from you guys dry humping on the dance floor?"

He pulled her panties to the side and I could hear the wet clinging sound of his fingers stroking her damp pussy.

"Or maybe she enjoyed sucking my cock?" he added.

I didn't respond to anything he said. I just watched. I don't think he expected, or even wanted, me to respond anyway. He had accepted I wasn't going to say anything, but that I was going to let him do whatever he wanted. He was just going to keep talking though.

"Whatever you gave her it works really fuckin' good," he said. "And I'm not going to waste it."

He pulled his hand from between her legs, moved closer to her, and grabbed her waist. He slid her butt along the seat towards him as he backed up. He adjusted her head so it wouldn't knock against the door, then slid her down until her body was lying flat on the seat, her head tilted up and supported by the door, her legs pushed together and twisted with her feet on the floor. She looked like a rag doll splayed across the back seat.

He was kneeling on the seat behind me, his legs and knees beneath him, his penis sticking out from his open fly. I adjusted the mirror to look at his face. He was looking down at her, his face both pensive and lustful, trying to figure out how to maneuver her body while hungering for it, watching her skirt riding up higher as she slid along the seat, her flat stomach and exposed chest rising and falling with her breaths. For those few moments he was actually quiet.

Then, he grabbed her left leg, picked it up, and leaned back as he swung it in front of him and placed it between him and the seat back. Her foot slid across the seat, stopping at the side door, leaving her knee in the air and pressed against the seat. He grabbed her right left and pulled it forward, straightening her hips, placing her foot on the floor behind me, and letting her knee fall to the side against the back of my seat. 

He sat up some so he had to crane his head under the top of the car as he unbuckled his belt. He was looking right down at her. I could see his eyes moving around, but mostly focused at the luscious place between her thighs. He opened his pants and pushed them and his underwear down just until his erection sprang out, hard and thick.

"I've always liked it in the backseat of a car," he said and hunched over her.

He placed a hand on the top of the backseat then the other on the seat beside her as he lowered himself down. I adjusted my mirror, watching his penis descend towards her until their hips met, pressing it against her and the seat. He slid his hand from the top of the seat and pressed his elbow between her body and the seat back, holding himself over her. I heard his shoes banging against the side door.

"You need a bigger car," he said and chuckled to himself.

He held himself up on his far elbow and reached between their bodies, lifting his hips up and to the side. He looked down between them as he slid her small thong underwear to the side and his fingers searched for her wet opening. He grunted and strained to hold himself up in that small space, as he used his fingers to hold her open and pressed the head of his penis against her. 

I shifted in my seat, sliding down some, and adjusted the mirror. I was hard inside my pants and swaying my left leg back and forth, letting the material rub against my stiff penis.

He lifted himself up some and looked down between their bodies. Then, he lowered his hips as he pushed forward, arching his back, and with a loud groan penetrated her. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck tingle as he entered her, then spreading across my scalp as he slid into her, his hips lowering to hers.

"That is a tight, wet cunt," he sighed.

He moved his hips back and forth a few times, slipping into her deeper, then brought his hand up from between them and placed his elbow beside her, holding himself up, their stomachs and hips pressed together. His shoes knocked against the door as he started stroking in and out of her, his hips moving back and forth.




Perversions and Transgressions Ch. 06



At the start of my second year in medical school I felt I was starting over again. My fiancée had moved far away to start her graduate school in psychology. Our relationship was solid but it would be three years until we were together again. I've always been kind of a loner but I actually felt alone. I missed her.

To make matters worse my secret had been exposed. To one person. But that one person could be a nightmare. Randall was a medical student as well and we had several classes together. We had been partners in Gross Anatomy. He was also completely void of respect or compassion for anyone but himself. Once I had manipulated him into fucking my unconscious girlfriend. I had tried a second time but he had figured it out. He had fucked her anyway in the backseat of my car while I watched. It had turned me on and I treasured that memory as I did the other times I had watched her being taken. But I didn't know what he would do next.

At the time he'd said that I shouldn't try to manipulate men into fucking her and should just tell them. Then I could watch without all of the subterfuge. But I didn't want to do that. I didn't want people knowing. People could use that information against me. They could threaten to tell my fiancée Denise. They could just tell her. Plus, I found it a thrill to watch people convincing themselves to do it. Watching their hesitancy overcome by desire. 

Denise is very attractive. I always see men ogling her and have always been proud of that, and even aroused by it. I know men think about what they'd like to do to her. I give them the opportunity. I drug her so they can do those things. Watching them understand that and take advantage of it is part of the thrill.

But now Randall knew all about what I had done and I wondered what he would do with that information. I lost sleep wondering about it. I pictured him blackmailing me, saying he'd tell her if I didn't give him money or let him have her whenever he wanted, that he'd push it all too far and she'd find out. I lived in dread of him just telling her for his own amusement. 

So, I just avoided him as best I could. The first month of the new year I was successful. We shared some classes, but I stayed away from him. I wouldn't even meet his gaze. He called me a couple of times, but I didn't answer my phone and he left short messages just saying to call him back. I knew something would happen eventually. I knew he'd tell me what he was going to do. I knew he'd do something. I just wanted to pretend it would never happen.

Second year was more difficult than first year. There was much more course work but it was more interesting, focusing on clinical diagnoses and preparing us for rotations the next year. I was swamped and so was everyone else. Randall was even showing up to classes and lectures more than first year. 

Still it had been about a month into the new year when he finally did approach me. We were exiting the building from a pathology lecture. I had left as quickly as I could, knowing that Randall takes his time and wanting to get out of there as I had everyday previously. But he caught up to me.

"Mike," he yelled as I hurried down the steps outside of the building.

I pretended I didn't hear him and continued walking.

"Hey Mike!" he yelled again.

I heard him running to catch up to me. I sighed and stopped to wait for him. I looked down at my shoes, listening to him approaching me, and not wanting to look at him.

"So you're avoiding me, huh?" he said.

"Just busy," I said.

I started walking again, letting him walk with me if he needed to talk to me.

"Busy avoiding me," he said, falling in beside me.

I didn't respond. I just wanted him to leave me alone.

"So are you afraid of what I'll do now or just ashamed?" he asked.

I glanced at him and looked away. I was actually surprised that shame was one emotion I hadn't really felt.

"What do you want?" I asked stiffly.

"How about some coffee?" he said. "There's the coffee shop right up ahead. And we need to talk."

I stopped and he came to a stop beside me. I forced myself to look him in the face directly.

"What do you want?" I asked again.

He smiled, that big 'trust me' grin he used often and set his hand on my shoulder.

"It's alright, man," he said. "Just a cup of coffee. Though doesn't look like you need the caffeine. You're fucking tense. Relax."

"Fine," I said and continued walking.

As we walked to the coffee shop he babbled about the lecture we'd just attended and about some female student that had sat next to him that had large breasts but an unattractive face. He asked her out anyway, but she had turned him down which convinced him that she was homosexual.

The coffee shop was mostly vacant, just two students at one end with laptop computers. We ordered our coffees and sat at a tall table at the far end.

"No need to avoid me, man," Randall said as soon as we sat down.

"I've been busy," I said, finding I couldn't bring myself to look at him.

"Look, it's nothing to be ashamed of if that's what's bothering you. I don't care what you do. And I've enjoyed myself a whole hell of a lot," he said and chuckled.

I just nodded, looking down at my coffee.

His laughter subsided and he sighed.

"I told you that night what I thought about it," he continued. "I think you've got it all wrong. You don't need to be tricking guys into doing it. Guys will do it gladly. Trust me."

I forced myself to take a sip from my coffee and looked at him over the rim of the cup.

"Maybe you've been afraid I'd tell her or get you in trouble or let out your secret," he said. "But I ain't gonna do that. Hell, I'd be in trouble too. I was the one who raped her. Twice."

He laughed and shook his head. Then, he looked past me, remembering what had happened.

"And she is something else," he said and sighed heavily.

Without him looking at me I was able to study his face. He looked sincere to me. Still I wasn't sure where this was going.

"Anyway," he said, looking back at me. "You don't need to worry about me fucking things up for you. I know you two are engaged now. You don't want that fucked with. I don't want to be fucked with either."

I watched him as he talked and I felt more secure. I was believing what he was saying. If he did let my secret out he would be in trouble too, and more than me. He's the one who'd actually raped her. I had just watched. Well, I had done more than that, but only so much could be proven if needed.

"I want to help you out," he said.

He nodded at me and took a big sip of his coffee.

"How's that?" I asked.

"What you're doing is dangerous," he said quickly, anticipating my question. "You set up the situation then watch. But you have no control over it. Sure you think you can step in if something happens, but then you're exposing yourself. Plus, she could be hurt before you could do anything. A lot of guys are into sick shit. Beating chicks up. Biting. Choking. Someone could mess her up good before you could even do anything."

I shivered at the thought of some sadist getting hold of her. That was one of my biggest concerns. I had always picked men I thought wouldn't be like that, but I can never be sure. I assumed I could interfere if needed, but still it was a very real danger.

"To those guys she's just a piece of meat," he continued. "You love her. I know that. But to those guys she's just a fuck. Something to be used. And if one of them did some damage to her you'd be destroyed. Am I right?"

"Yeah," I said and nodded.

I looked down into the swirling black of my coffee, remembering the thoughts I've had of the bad things that could happen to her if I didn't protect her. I'd never forgive myself if someone really hurt her.

"And the way you're doing it now is fuckin' risky, man," he said.

"I make sure...," I started.

"I know you do," he said, holding his hands up. "I'm sure you do everything you can to make it safe. But listen..." He glanced around as another student came in and walked to a table on the other side. "You can only do so much the way you're doing it. You need someone on the inside."

I looked at him sharply. He was giving me his friendliest grin, a politician's grin, one that says to trust me while I get what I want from you.

"You need someone who knows, who will help you, who is involved in it. Someone who can orchestrate the whole thing and trap the guys into it while you do what you want, which is watch without being seen," he said.

"And you want to be this person, right?" I asked.

"What the fuck am I talking about here?" he said. "Of course it would be me. Who the fuck else knows? Who else knows how to find guys you can use? Who would be able to handle it if anything went wrong? I could be right there."

"So what would you do?" I asked, actually intrigued by what he was offering, even if I didn't buy into the way he was selling it to me. "You'd find guys and bring them to her somehow, talk them into fucking her. You would fuck her too. And you'd make sure the other guy didn't get out of line."

"You're getting the idea," he said. "I'd handle it all. You'd just have to drug her. We could take her where you wanted. I'd bring someone. I'd coerce him into it. I'd make sure it was a good guy, a clean guy. If he does get out of line I'll be right there to take care of him. It's a sweet fuckin' setup, man."

"Quiet down," I whispered, his voice getting louder as he talked.

"No one can hear us," he said, but softer. "But you see what I'm saying, right? You're afraid that I know about this, but you should be thankful. I can help you. I can take the stress out of this so you can just sit back and enjoy it."

"What do you get out of it?" I asked. "For helping me so much."

"I think it's a fuckin' turn on, man," he said. "Can't you tell? And not to hurt your feelings, but she is the hottest chick I've ever seen and has the nicest pussy I've ever fucked."

Him saying that made my arms break out in goose bumps from excitement. I loved hearing him talk about her like that.

"And it's just something awesome to do," he said. "I get bored doing all the usual shit. This is something different. This is something interesting. This is something that nobody is doing."

I looked at him, obviously excited. He definitely wasn't lying to me about all of this. He was bringing the hard sell. But this is what he really wanted. He wasn't going to rat me out. He wasn't going to blackmail me. He wanted in on it.

"I don't know," I said.

"Just think about it," he said.

"She's away at school now anyway," I sighed. "She won't be coming here to visit like she used to."

"She'll come here sometime," he said. "Whenever that is. Whenever she comes visit just let me know and we'll set it up."

I frowned and looked down at my coffee.

"Think about it," he said. "It's a great fuckin' idea and you know it."

He continued talking while I finished my coffee, reiterating what he'd already said. I listened to him, but was mostly thinking about what he was offering. It made some sense to me. My biggest concerns were getting a guy to use her when she was passed out and if the guy would do something to hurt her. Having someone there to persuade the guy into doing what he already wanted to do while also making sure it didn't get out of hand alleviated those problems, and all while keeping my own anonymity. 

My concerns about Randall using it against me were resolved by the fact that he and the other guy would be the ones actually raping her. Randall wouldn't rat me out because he'd be in worse trouble than me since he had actually raped her. He had his own motivation to keep it all a secret.

I wasn't comfortable having someone else involved, but Randall already was involved. He knew. He'd fucked her right in the back seat of my car while I'd driven him home. I'd still found it exciting even as I'd been anxious about it. She'd still been fucked while passed out and he'd come inside her and left her there in the back seat, her skirt pushed to her hips, her panties pulled to the side, so vulnerable. I squirmed in my seat as I felt myself getting hard from remembering it.

As we left I told him I'd have to think about it and I wasn't sure there'd be any more opportunities since she had moved so far away anyway. I didn't know if or when she'd come to visit again. He told me to just keep it in mind because she'd surely visit at some point. I told him I'd think about it and we parted.

After that we became friends again, or as close to friends as we had been before, though our relationship changed. He no longer used me as much for class work. He showed up to classes and lectures regularly so he didn't need them from me. The second year was much more difficult and while he was extremely smart and had coasted by the first year, he couldn't do that anymore, and he rose to the challenge. He was just as rude and loud as ever, but was putting forth more effort. He seemed to treat me with more respect and chummy goodness than he had before. I'm sure in part he was sucking up to me, but part of it I'm sure was also gratitude and a real sense of friendship.

It made me realize how I had made no friends since I'd started medical school. I'd never had a lot of friends but at least in undergraduate school I'd had a few friends. One of my best friends, Thomas, had been the first person I'd watched use Denise while she was passed out. I hadn't even kept in touch with him. My life had been centered on medical school, Denise, and obsessing about Denise being taken. That didn't seem healthy. The closest person to a friend was Randall who I didn't really trust and had used me for class work and fucking my fiancée. 

I really didn't have anyone besides Denise. I wasn't close to my family. I hadn't kept in touch with old friends. I hadn't made any new friends. I didn't feel like my life was missing anything, but it didn't seem healthy. Also, it occurred to me that if I could lure those friends and acquaintances into using Denise. Once that thought came to me I decided to start being more friendly and making friends.

I even tried to contact old friends. I found an old e-mail from Thomas and wrote to him. I knew he had stayed at our undergraduate school to pursue his graduate work in English literature. He responded and I worked on reestablishing that friendship. From him I got information about mutual friends and contacted them. I also made a concerted effort to be more friendly to my fellow classmates. Doing all this in the back of my mind I considered the potential for each of them to be used in my schemes with Denise.

In this way, time moved pretty quickly. I was busy and feeling the pressure of medical school in a way I hadn't the first year. The emphasis was on actual application of the knowledge we had gained. I had to study even more. I got involved in study groups with other students, hoping to also gain some friends that way. 

Denise and I talked as often as we could, but she was busy as well. She said she was planning on having a Thanksgiving dinner at her apartment with friends she had made there who weren't going home for the holiday. I think she was mainly doing it to stave off sadness from not having the holiday with her parents. She asked me to come if I could find the time. I decided I would find the time even if it meant spending the majority of the trip studying.

So I made the trip the day before Thanksgiving, spending money I didn't have for an airplane ticket, and carrying more books and notes than clothes. Of course I also took some of the drug I used to make her unconscious. I wasn't sure if there'd be an opportunity to use it but figured it was best to be prepared.

She picked me up at the airport and took me back to her apartment which was half of a duplex. It was a small two-bedroom apartment and nicer than her previous apartment. She lived there alone, but was looking for a roommate. I wondered if she even needed a roommate. She had received some money from her parents' will and was going to receive more as their affairs were settled and their house was sold. She wanted to save that money for our wedding and then to help us as we started our marriage.

We hadn't seen each other in several months so we spent that evening in bed. We hadn't slept much by Thanksgiving morning and were both pretty tired, but she needed to get up to start preparing the holiday meal. I wished that she wasn't having friends over so we could just be alone, but told myself this would be a good opportunity to meet her friends as well as try to make friends myself.

She had three of her classmates coming that day: Rebecca whom she was becoming good friends with, Charles whom was dating Rebecca, and Taylor, of whom she said was a shy quiet guy that she and the other two had befriended at first because they felt sorry for him but had since found was smart and funny.

While Denise prepared the turkey I got my books and notes out and started studying while the Thanksgiving Day Parade played on the television. By late morning Taylor arrived alone with a pumpkin pie and Rebecca and Charles arrived a short while later with a couple of bottles of wine. I gathered my study materials together on the coffee table to make room for their drinks and attempted to take part in their conversation, at least when it wasn't concerned with their studies, professors, and schooling.

"I considered medical school, but seemed like too much work," Rebecca said, then looked over my pile of notes and books, "and I think you've confirmed that."

"So you took the easy street of psychology like the rest of us," Charles said and laughed.

"It doesn't seem that easy," I said, putting down my notes. "From what Denise tells me at least."

"Don't believe her. She just wants sympathy," Charles said.

"That's all women, right? We all want sympathy from our men," Rebecca joked.

"Studies have shown..." Charles said.

They all three laughed. I just looked at them.

"One of our professors says that often," Taylor told me.

"Way too much," Charles said.

Charles glanced away from us to Denise as she walked from the kitchen to the small dining area at the back of the apartment. Rebecca saw him look at Denise, looked back at her too, then frowned at him. Denise was wearing ragged denim shorts worn enough that the pockets were showing out the bottom of the legs and a loose white blouse that billowed around her showing the shadow of her body through it. Taylor glanced at her then away from her nervously. Denise set some plates on the table, stretching her long tanned legs, the curve of her breasts visible from the light streaming through the window. I smiled at how just her setting a table grabbed the attention of everyone in the room.

"I hope you guys aren't telling stories about me," Denise said and walked into the living room.

"Just that you're a great student and everyone's favorite study partner," Charles said with a big grin.

"Better be," she said.

She sat down on the arm of the couch next to him and pushed his head away from her.

"Don't believe anything he says," she said. "He's a wise ass."

"Every class has to have one," he beamed. "You guys are just lucky this one is so handsome." 

Then, he grabbed her thigh on the couch arm and pushed like he was trying to shove her off the couch. She shoved him away and stood up.

"Keep teasing and you'll get no cranberry sauce," she joked.

"Promise?" he said.

Rebecca looked at him crossly and folded her arms across her chest. She was obviously getting upset with him and I guessed it wasn't the first time, and not the first time for flirting with Denise.

"Need any help?" Taylor asked. "I'm no chef but I know my way around the kitchen."

I waited for Charles to make the obvious joke. Taylor was overweight. He had a large gut like on a Buddha statue. Though the rest of him seemed normal if not muscular. Still with the gut and shyness he seemed smaller than he really was. Charles didn't make the joke though. Apparently he had enough respect for Taylor to not say it.




Perversions and Transgressions Ch. 06



"That's okay," Denise said. "I've got it under control. And I enjoy it. But if I need anything I'll let you know."

She walked over to my chair and sat down in my lap, crossing her legs over my leg, wrapping in arm around me, and leaning against me.

"I am tired, though," Denise said.

"Didn't get much sleep last night?" Charles asked.

Denise laughed.

"Nope, not much," she said and kissed me softly.

I slid my hand around her stomach, under her shirt. Her skin was so smooth and warm. I slid my other hand up and down her firm thigh, then pulled it away, not wanting to make the others uncomfortable. 

"I slept like a baby last night," Rebecca said, then glanced at Charles.

"I didn't," he said. "I did all kinds of things to you last night while you slept."

He leaned towards her and snapped his teeth at her.

"Doesn't surprise me that you didn't wake me then," she said smugly.

Everyone laughed, even Charles, and he kissed her quickly, making her smile, the anger dissipating.

I looked at Taylor, sitting on the other end of the couch beside Rebecca, hoping he didn't feel like a fifth wheel, and he was laughing. I really liked the guy. He hadn't talked much, but gave off that air of someone who you know is nice and you want to help out.

I slid my hand from under Denise's shirt and put her on the floor gently as I stood up.

"Anyone want anything to drink?" I asked.

"Too early to open the wine?" Rebecca asked.

"Which one?" Denise asked. "You guys brought two bottles and I already had two here."

"Surprise me," Rebecca said.

Denise and I went into the kitchen. I picked out a bottle of wine randomly, opened it, and poured four glasses of wine.

"Who's not drinking?" Denise asked.

"Me," I said. "I don't like wine."

"It's a bit early, but oh well," she said and took a sip from her glass.

I carried the other three to the living room and handed them out. Charles put on football when the first game started and we watched it while conversing, everyone loosening up. I found Charles wasn't as much a wise ass as Denise had described. To me Randall was a wise ass. If Charles was a wise ass then Randall was a sociopath. Charles was just a nice guy whose good looks and charm allowed him to get away with being more forward. 

I could see why Rebecca was dating him and why he was dating her. She was a bit uptight, but very attractive and quick witted. If she had pulled her auburn hair from the tight ponytail and worn clothes a bit less frumpy she'd be grabbing attention almost as much as Denise. 

Denise called us to the table when dinner was ready. We devoured her meal. It was the best meal I'd had in a long time. I didn't put much thought to food. I just didn't have time to think about it and didn't really care to. My hunger awakened and I devoured the meal like it was my last. There was little conversation at the table as the others did the same.

Afterwards, Denise and I cleaned the table and dishes as the other three sat down to watch more football. When we were done I sat in the chair and Denise sat on the floor in front of me between me legs. I rubbed her shoulders and neck in thanks for the meal.

Everyone was pretty quiet, sedated by the meal and wine. Taylor was slouching on the couch, mostly watching the game, but his eyes flickering to Denise from time to time. Rebecca was leaning against Charles, her eyes drooping. Charles had his arm around her and was talking to Denise, I think mainly for an excuse to look at her. She sat on the floor in front of me her long tanned legs stretched out, her ankles crossed. Her head kept drifting backwards as I massaged her.

Thinking about how the two guys obviously had eyes for Denise I wondered if I could manipulate them into using her. Neither of them seemed that aggressive. My previous targets had all seemed very sexually aggressive, making them good candidates. Taylor seemed way too shy and nice to attempt anything, but I wondered if Charles might do something. Rebecca however was an obstacle. Plus it was the mid-afternoon and everyone was looking sleepy. I thought maybe I could work that to my advantage. If I could drug Denise and get her to bed I could make an excuse to leave, then come back, enter through the back door which couldn't be seen from the living room and sneak back to the bedroom where I could wait in the closet. But Charles wouldn't do anything if Rebecca and Taylor were there. I couldn't think of a way of getting rid of the two of them and manipulating Charles to be in the house alone with Denise. I considered drugging them too, an idea that had never occurred to me before surprisingly, but didn't think I had enough of the drug.

I decided to just drug Denise and see what happened. I had done that many times, either testing the effects and viability of different drugs on her or in similar instances where I couldn't figure out exactly how to manipulate the situation but thought I could try it which had never worked out, but there could be a first time.

I stroked Denise's hair as I stood up.

"I'll be right back," I told her.

I went to the bathroom and forced myself to urinate. Then I opened my bathroom travel case and pulled out the small bag of the crushed pills I had stuffed to the bottom. I had put the drug in my travel case and then into my checked luggage. I put the small bag in my pocket and left the bathroom.

"Anyone need more wine?" I asked, walking into the living room.

I picked up Denise's glass without waiting for an answer.

"Sure, why not?" Charles said and handed his glass to me.

"No thanks," Rebecca said softly.

"Not yet," Taylor said, motioning to his glass which was still half full.

I took the two glasses into the kitchen and poured wine into both. I quickly dumped the powder into Denise's glass and stirred it in until it had dissolved. I held the glass up and looked in from the bottom to make sure none had settled to the bottom. I went back to the living room and handed his glass to Charles. I handed Denise hers and watched her take a drink.

I sat down on the chair behind her.

"Sit up here before you fall asleep on the floor," I told her.

She got to her feet and I held her wine glass while she sat in my lap.

"You need more chairs in here," Charles said.

"I can sit in a kitchen chair if you want to sit on the couch," Taylor told Denise. "You did so much for us today."

"I'm fine like this," she said.

She curled her legs under her, wrapped her arm around my neck, and leaned against me. I offered her the glass. She took another drink and gave it back to me.

I set the wine glass on the side table so I could stroke her smooth thighs. She sighed against my neck. I looked at the couch and saw all three of them were looking at me, Taylor glancing away when I looked towards them. I ran the tips of my fingers up and down her outer thigh, barely touching her, not wanting to be too obvious or inappropriate.

I saw that Charles was staring at her but Taylor was intently watching the game. Rebecca tilted her head up to look at Charles, then looked over at Denise. She sat up, moving away from Charles.

"So when are you two getting married?" Rebecca asked.

"As soon as I'm done medical school and can get out here," I said.

"You don't think you two can work something out sooner?" she asked.

"We talked about it..." I said.

"It's just tough to work around our schools right now," Denise said, sitting up, her back against the chair arm to look at Rebecca on the couch.

"Must be tough being apart," Taylor said.

"It is," Denise said and lightly slid her hand down my chest.

"We're both so busy right now I think we'd be horrible to be around anyway," I added.

I slid the palm of my hand up the back of her thigh and under the leg of her shorts to her butt. Charles saw what I was doing and watched. Taylor was forcing himself to look at my face.

"Just you," Denise said. "I'm always a delight."

"I'll bet," Charles said.

Everyone laughed, but Rebecca was forcing it.

"No pumpkin pie for you," Denise said.

"Oh, pumpkin pie," I said. "Who wants some?"

Everyone groaned. I laughed and sat up. I slowly slid from under Denise letting her sit on the chair a I stood up.

"Just me?" I asked.

"I'll take a piece," Taylor said.

"Good man," I said.

I handed the wine glass to Denise and watched her take another drink. I went to the kitchen. The dishwasher was done so I unloaded it and put everything away. As I was cutting two pieces of pie I heard the front door close. I walked into the living room and saw Rebecca and Charles were gone.

"Where'd they go?" I asked.

"Rebecca had to get going. I think she was just tired," Denise said.

I handed a plate to Taylor, who thanked me and sat down on the couch to eat the pie. Out the front window I could see Charles and Rebecca talking in front of the house by her car. It didn't look like they were arguing but it wasn't pleasant conversation. I sighed, interested that Rebecca had left like I'd wanted but Charles would go with her, which I didn't want. 

I cut a small piece of pie, stabbed it, and stretched it out to Denise. She pulled it off the fork with her lips and cooed.

"That's good, Taylor," she said.

"Yes it is," I agreed.

"Thanks," he said.

I looked at him, wondering if he would hang around with the other two gone and if so if he'd take the bait. I wasn't expecting it. It looked like he'd be leaving soon, Denise would pass out, and I'd be there alone. I figured I could get some studying done.

I finished my pie and looked at Denise. She had finished most of her wine and was slouched down in her chair, staring at the television. I picked up my plate, took Taylor's plate, stood up, and looked down at her.

"You finish that glass I can refill it," I told her.

She sat up, picked up her glass, and tipped the last of the wine into her mouth.

"Not a full refill," she said. "It's Thanksgiving but I don't need to get drunk."

"Might as well. Where do you have to go?" Taylor said.

"Good point," I said. "Which means I'll get you a refill too."

I took his empty glass from him and went to the kitchen. I was hoping if I could get him to drink enough he'd have to stick around awhile so as to not drive, then maybe I could make it happen. I still didn't think he'd do anything, but figured I could try.

I poured two glasses of wine and took them back to the living room. Charles walked in the front door.

"I'm back," he said with a grin.

"Where's Rebecca?" Denise said, sitting up to twist around and look out the window.

"She wanted to go home to study and rest," he said.

"Looked like she was mad at you," Taylor said.

"They always are," Charles said and flopped down on the couch. "I'll have to get a ride with you if that's ok?"

"Fine with me," Taylor said, taking the glass from me.

"But he won't be driving for a while," I said. "Ya'll might as well relax."

I went and poured the last of the wine for Charles and brought him the glass, then sat down on the couch next to him. With Rebecca gone and the wine Charles was more talkative and getting Taylor to talk more. After a while I noticed Denise had stopped taking part in the conversation and was falling asleep. Her eyes were closing for longer and longer periods of time as she slouched further in her chair with her legs spreading wider. Charles and Taylor definitely noticed as their eyes kept drifting to her spread thighs. 

My main problem was that Taylor was still there and had drank enough that he couldn't leave anytime soon. I was unsure about what to do. I decided that with two guys there maybe that would double the chances of someone doing what I wanted, though really I figured the other being there would stop either of them from doing anything. I knew for sure neither of would do anything with me there and decided I would make an excuse to leave as soon as Denise was definitely passed out.

I hung out for a while, glancing at Denise to see how she was doing. Eventually her eyes closed and she lay there slack and breathing deep. I waited a while longer to make sure she didn't stir, though I had done it enough by then to be confident she was out.

"Well," I said with a sigh, "If you guys don't mind I think I might go visit a friend that lives nearby. Looks like Denise is out anyway."

They both glanced at her then back at me.

"You know someone that goes to school here?" Charles asked.

"Well, he doesn't go to school here," I said. "But lives in the area somewhere." I named a town that was about an hour away.

"Don't know if I'd say that's close," Taylor said.

"Closer than you were yesterday," Charles said and Taylor nodded.

"I'm gonna give him a call and see if he's around," I said.

I got up and went to the bedroom to get my cell phone. I pretended to be making a phone call and held the phone to my ear.

"Hey man, this is Mike. How you doing?" I said to the dead phone.

I walked out of the bedroom, down the hallway and looked into the living room. They were watching the game and remarking on it.

"Happy Thanksgiving to you too," I said.

I looked at her slouching in the chair, her legs spread limply open, and I could see far up the inside of the shredded legs of her shorts to the tops of her inner thighs, her underwear and groin hidden in shadows. I was sure the two guys had noticed that as well.

"Yeah, I'm here visiting Denise," I said.

I walked to the back of the dining room and looked out the window. Behind the duplex was a rather unkempt backyard with a row of houses spaced further back. To the sides of the duplex were a couple of other similar homes.

"She's doing good. How you doing?" I said.

I stood in front of the back door and turned towards the living room. A wall blocked the living room entirely. I moved around the table until I got to the hallway and saw into the living room and the backs of their heads as they sat on the couch. I'd have to be really quiet, but I could sneak past them. If they heard me I'd make some excuse. My car broke down and I came to the house from the back.

"Good," I said. "I was thinking about coming to visit you if that's ok."

I went to the back door, unlocked it, and opened it. I stepped outside. It was warm out with a gentle breeze. Everything is so much more quiet on Thanksgiving, so peaceful.

"Just give me your address and I can map it on my phone," I said.

I walked back into the house and pulled the door closed behind me, leaving it partially open so the latch wasn't engaged.

"Okay, got it," I said.

I went to the bedroom, looking into the living room as I passed. With the television on I could stomp through the house and they wouldn't hear me.

"It's Thanksgiving so traffic shouldn't be too bad," I said. "Probably won't take a full hour to get there."

I looked around the bedroom, noting the position of the closet to the bed. I pushed the closet door half-closed, walked to the bed, and looked towards the closet. I could barely see inside the closet, but would probably see someone standing directly in the opening.

"Want me to bring anything? We have plenty of leftovers here," I said.

I adjusted the blinds and curtains to reduce the light in the room, walked back to the bed, and saw the closet was hidden well. I'd have to be careful, but I was betting if anything happened they'd be too occupied to be studying the closet.

"Okay, sounds good," I said. "I'll see you in a bit."

I could feel that tingling in my stomach and groin, that anticipation, images of what I hoped to see already bubbling in my mind. 

"Bye," I said and pretended to end the call.

I put on my shoes, got my wallet and keys, and got ready to go. I looked around the bedroom, feeling that thrill before I try to do a setup. I sighed deeply, ran my fingers through my hair, and went back to the living room.

"You guys going to be okay here?" I asked.

They both looked over the couch at me as I walked into the room.

"Yeah, it's fine," Charles said.

I frowned and pretended to be reconsidering.

"Not very hospitable to just take off and leave you here with the passed out hostess," I said, motioning to Denise.

They both looked at her then back at me.

"It's okay," Charles said.

"Yeah, it was a good meal and she deserves the rest. I might take a nap myself," Taylor said with a grin.

"She's not just napping," I said and walked over to her. "She's out of it."

I stood between her spread legs and kneeled down to look into her face.

"Hey, baby," I said loudly. I touched her face and pushed her head up, tilting it back. 

"I'm going to visit Thomas now," I said even louder. I picked Thomas's name randomly. I hoped that wouldn't come back to bite me. What if one of the two of them asked me about the visit some time later. I'd have to figure that one out.

She didn't respond. She just laid there with her head back, breathing deeply.

"Yeah, she's out," I said. "Nothing will wake her up."

"Wish I could sleep like that," Taylor joked.

"She didn't really get any sleep last night and the few glasses of wine and being busy all day... She'll be out for a while," I said.

I stood up and looked down at her.

"I should get her to bed at least," I said. "Can you guys help me?"

I turned around to look at them.

"Um, sure," Charles said and stood up.

Taylor stood up beside him.

I moved the side of the chair and slid my hands behind her shoulders.

"I'll get her from here," I said. "One of you get her legs."

They hesitated, looked at each other, and then Charles moved forward.

"Just grab her under her knees or something," I said.

"Want to just wake her up and get her to bed?" Charles asked.

"She isn't waking up," I said. "Just watch. We'll carry her to bed and she won't even stir. Trust me. I've seen this many times."

"Okay," Charles said.

He scratched his face, obviously thinking it over, then moved between her legs.

"Yeah, just hold her legs under your arms or something," I said.

He bent down and wrapped his arms around her knees, his hands sliding down her thighs, and held them under her arms.

"Okay, let's lift," I said.

I pushed my hands under her arms and lifted her up as he stood up. Her butt sagged between us.

"Taylor, can you hold her up for us?" I asked as I maneuvered her over the chair.

"Okay," Taylor said hesitantly.

He moved over to us, put his hands out and beneath her, and hesitated.

"Yeah, like that," I said. "Just lift her up so she's not sagging like that."

He put one arm beneath her lower back and the other beneath her butt and lifted her up some. Charles held her legs in his arms, his hands circling around and up her inner thighs.

"Okay, lets carefully get her into bed," I said.

I started walking and they followed me. We carried her like she was an extremely valuable and heavy rare artifact. I leaned her head against my chest. Her arms dangled down loosely. We took small shuffling steps around the coffee table and couch, then to the hallway. Both of them were looking down at her, their eyes wide, looking at the parts of her they were holding then to her passive face. She sighed heavily once but otherwise just kept breathing that deep heavy sleep rhythm.

Charles's fingers grasped her inner thighs tightly in his arms, her legs spread around him, and his eyes drawn to her groin. Her shirt had risen as Taylor grabbed her and his left arm was wrapped around her bare lower back, his hand holding her bare side. His other arm held her butt firmly. His eyes moved from her bare stomach to her groin to her legs spread around his friend and to her face.

"That's good," I said as we entered the bedroom.

We moved to the bed. Taylor and I slowly lowered her down while Charles bent down then slid from between her legs, holding them in his hands, then laid them on the bed. I slid my hands beneath her, lifted her slightly, and shifted her further onto the bed. I stood up and looked at Charles and Taylor.




Perversions and Transgressions Ch. 06



"Thanks guys," I said. "Seemed wrong to leave her sleeping in that chair."

"No problem," Taylor said.

"Can't believe she didn't wake up," Charles said.

"I told you she's out," I said. "Nothing will wake her right now. She'd sleep through a nuclear attack. Or any kind of attack."

I put a pillow under her head and set her arms out beside her. She lay there perfectly still but for the slow rising and falling of her chest and bare stomach, her shirt having slid up some as we put her on the bed. Her feet tilted to the sides, her legs straight and spread in a V. 

"Maybe I should at least take those shorts off," I said.

I unbuttoned her shorts and pulled the zipper down, then turned to look at Charles and Taylor. They were both looking down at her, then looked at me surprised, and shambled out of the room. 

Once they had left I pulled her shorts down her legs and placed them folded on her dresser. I looked to the bedroom door to make sure no one was watching me. Then, I turned back to her and spread her legs a bit wider. Her white thong underwear barely covered anything, just a white triangle at her groin and thin white straps around her. I pushed her shirt further up to expose more of her stomach and pulled the neck down a bit to show some cleavage. I brushed her hair from her face and around her, laying on the pillow. She looked gorgeous. I bent down and kissed her lips softly. Then, I stood up, sighed heavily, and walked back to the living room, leaving the bedroom door open.

They were both back on the couch, ostensibly watching the game, but I was hoping they were thinking of other things. As I walked around the couch I noticed Charles was holding a pillow on his lap and had to stop from smiling. Taylor had his legs crossed, a startled expression on his face.

"Okay, I'm going to take off," I said. "You guys can do whatever you want. You won't wake her. Use whatever you want. If you're not here when I get back then it was good to meet you both."

"Yeah, good to meet you too," Charles said.

"Yeah," Taylor said, his voice sounding distant. "Take care."

I turned, opened the front door, and walked out, closing the door behind me. The air felt colder than before, bringing out goose bumps on my arms. I walked to my car, got in, and started it. I was feeling confident that it had worked. I felt that if there had been just one of them that either of them would probably use her. Charles definitely would if alone. I think Taylor would have been strongly tempted and at least looked at her. But with both of them there I wasn't sure if anything would happen. I was wishing one of them would leave somehow, but seeing as how they had to leave together I didn't think that would happen.

I backed out of the driveway and drove around the block to the street behind Denise's apartment. I found a house that looked empty and parked on the street in front of it. I got out of my car, locked it, looked around for anyone watching, but saw no one. Then, I hurried around the house into the backyard of the duplex. I approached the back door and stood still for a moment, letting myself catch my breath and trying to get my excitement under control. I didn't want to be on edge as I tried to walk through the house. I wanted to be calm and quiet.

I gripped the doorknob and pulled the door open slowly. I could hear commercials in the living room. I slipped through the open door and pulled it closed behind me, leaving the latch disengaged again. I listened carefully and I could hear them talking in the living room. They were talking about the game, but in jilted dialogue with long pauses.

I moved around the table to the hallway and the living room came into view. I could see the couch and the backs of their heads. I slipped quickly into the hallway then into the bedroom. I walked quickly but quietly to the closet, opened the door, slipped inside, and closed the door halfway as it had been. I hadn't breathed since I entered the house and took a deep breath. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. I listened through the rush of blood in my ears for notice they had heard me. I could hear the television, now an announcer talking about the game and heard Taylor's voice commenting on something. They hadn't heard me.

I laid my hand on the door jam and looked into the bedroom. I could see the bed clearly. Denise was still passed out, exactly as I had left her. I could also see the bedroom doorway. I moved back into the closet, into the shadows, so I could mainly see the bedroom doorway. I sat down beneath some hanging clothes in the dark where I couldn't be seen and started waiting.

I didn't wait for long before Charles walked past the bedroom doorway. He looked into the bedroom but continued past and went to the bathroom. On his way back he stopped in the doorway. He stepped into the room a bit and stared at her. He watched her for a while, his eyes moving over her. His hand drifted to his crotch and he rubbed himself through his pants. I waited for him to move into the room and do something, but he suddenly turned away and walked back to the living room.

I sighed in disappointment. I was sure he would have done something if he'd been alone. I settled back and waited some more, but was losing hope. I tried to think of a way I could have separated them, got Taylor to leave but have Charles stay, but I couldn't think of anything. 

I could hear them talking in the living room but couldn't make out exactly what they were saying. Their voices got loud for a moment like they were arguing then softened. I hoped they were talking about Denise but they could have just as easily been talking about the game or their schooling or anything else. I could do nothing but wait.

As I waited I thought about my conversation with Randall. It would be much easier to get one or both of them to do what I wanted if there was someone there convincing them to do it. I couldn't do that myself. I couldn't just tell them to fuck Denise. That would expose me. But if someone was there being the devil on their shoulder, then I wouldn't have to just wait there wondering what they were going to do. I'd had several failed attempts and expected I was about to have another one. With Randall working the targets for me there wouldn't be so many failures, or at least I would know sooner, and not have to spend an afternoon and evening waiting in a closet.

I was thinking this over so much that I didn't even notice Taylor walk into the bedroom. He was suddenly just there standing inside the doorway. I was startled and sat up straight. He was staring at Denise with a look I hadn't thought I'd see on him. It was a look of not just lust and hunger, but frustration, his eyebrows furled and lower lip jutting out. He walked further into the room and I had to crawl forward on my hands and knees to see him standing by the side of the bed, looking down at her, his head moving side to side as his eyes traveled over her.

"What are you doing?" Charles whispered harshly.

I turned to see him standing just outside the bedroom door.

"What do you think?" Taylor said, sounding annoyed.

"I told you we shouldn't be in here," Charles said.

"Then leave," Taylor said.

I was surprised that Taylor was the aggressor in the situation. I had been convinced that Charles would be the one to initiate anything. I guess I had underestimated Taylor. I'd remember to never count out the quiet, nice guy.

"Hey Denise," Taylor said loudly, making Charles jump.

She didn't respond of course.

"Hey Denise, you ok?" Taylor yelled, bending down over her.

She just laid there, completely still.

Taylor stood back up and looked down her, his eyes narrowing, focusing in on her, already possessing her.

"Maybe we should go," Charles said, looking from Taylor then back to the living room. "Mike could come back anytime."

"Then go keep watch," Taylor said, still looking at her.

Charles looked at Taylor, then to Denise. He hesitated for a moment then turned around and left.

Suddenly Taylor bent over Denise, grabbed her shoulders and started shaking her, yelling her name at her. She just flopped around in his hands, her head rocking back and forth. Charles appeared in the doorway again to see what Taylor was doing then walked away again.

Taylor stopped shaking her and his face turned to concern.

"Are you even okay?" he asked.

He placed his fingers to her neck and looked across the room, feeling her pulse. Then he looked down at her chest and stomach rising and falling. He shrugged.

"Guess you are just passed out," he mumbled.

He laid a hand on her bare thigh and started sliding up and down, his fingers circling around her inner thigh.

"You're so beautiful," he said. "I've been in love with you since we met."

So he was love sick for her. The look in his eyes seemed more like lust. Some people get them confused.

I rose to my feet slowly and moved to the side of the closet so I could peer around the doorframe at him.

He pulled her leg towards him, spreading it to the side, bending her knee. He slid his hand up almost to her crotch and left it there, holding the soft smooth curve of her inner thigh. I saw him swallow hard and take a harsh breath. Then, he slid his hand up until he was cupping her crotch. He groaned roughly and licked his lips. His eyes were moving all over her from her spread legs to her groin to her bare stomach to her chest and to her peaceful face.

He started rubbing her through her panties, his eyes fixed on her face, watching her. His hand slid down, his fingers going beneath her, cupping her in his palm, then slid up, his fingertips pressing into her, searching for her labia beneath her panties. He touched her lightly at first, his fingers exploring her, observing her face for any response, rubbing her harder as she didn't waken. His fingers delved into her panties, trying to press into her, then pausing at her clitoris, rubbing it back and forth with his fingertips. 

His tongue moved across his lips as he watched her, his eyes moving from her face to look over her body and the space between her legs then back to her face. He began rubbing her faster and harder, his hand pushing into her, his palm rubbing against her clit, his fingers pressing into her, up and down so I could hear the sound of his skin brushing over the smooth cotton of her panties. 

Then, his index finger pulled her panties to the side and delved into her, parting her labia. He sighed at the soft velvety touch of her vulva.

"Already getting wet," he groaned.

He moved his finger up and down, pressing the length of it between her labia, stroking up, then rubbing his fingertip over her clit. He pulled her panties to the side, exposing her pussy and looked down at her. He rubbed two fingers up and down, watching her lips part for him, spreading open and closing as his fingers slid back. He parted his fingers around her clit, then brushed his fingertips over it, circled it, flicked it lightly, rubbed it, then slid his fingers back down.

He turned his wrist and I could tell he was pushing a finger inside of her, just barely penetrating with his fingertip, and I felt my stomach tighten and that heat in my cock, aroused by the sight of her being penetrated by another man and feeling his arousal as he fidgeted, an obvious erection bulging in his pants. Then he slid his fingers back up between her lips and over her clit, then back down, sliding his fingertip into her again then back out and up, back and forth like that again and again. He looked up at her face, watching her as he did it, observing her face as he moved a bit faster and pressed against her a bit harder, spreading her labia apart with his other fingers, up and down with a staticy moist sound of her own wetness being spread back and forth. I groaned at how aroused she got when unconscious and used like this, so much more than when we had sex. Her body offered itself so eagerly to those who used it without her knowing.

He plunged his finger into her a bit deeper and watched her as he moved it in and out of her, sliding half of his finger into her then withdrawing it and sliding the length of his finger between her labia, then sinking it into her again. His eyes moved from her pussy to her face, back and forth, his eyes wide with arousal and excitement, wanting to watch his finger entering her but looking for any sign of waking on her face. She didn't respond at all. Her face was turned partly to the side towards him and remained peaceful, her lips wet and parted as she breathed deeply.

He crouched over her and looked into her face as he slid his finger into her, deeper than before, slowly descending into her until his other fingers were curled to his palm, his finger entirely inside of her. His face was only inches away from her sleeping face, watching her intently, as he began moving his finger in and out of her, fucking her with it. His hand opened up to curl his other fingers around her butt, his thumb rubbing her clit, as he thrust it in and out of her slowly but methodically. I could hear that moist clinging sound and rubbed myself through my pants. My stomach was a tight knot of anticipation and excitement. My head felt heavy with it. I placed my hand on the door jam to steady myself.

I watched as he moved his finger faster, becoming more confident she was indeed passed out, staring at her intently, looking for any sign of waking, until he was fucking her hard with his finger, his other fingers grasping her butt tightly, his thumb rubbing her clitoris roughly. Her only response was the increased moisture she emitted, making his finger slick. He thrust a second finger into her and curled his other fingers into his palm, making a fist with two fingers that he plunged in and out of her rapid and hard with enough force to make her body rock with it. His face was intense, red and wide, his tongue moving over his lips, breathing heavy with excitement. 

He stopped and thrust his fingers into her deeply, twisting his wrist so that I could tell he was curling his fingers inside of her, then slid out of her and back in, rubbing his fingertips up inside of her. 

"You're so wet," he panted. "You're loving it aren't you?"

I could see her glistening wet pussy with her legs parted, the one knee bent towards him, his fingers moving into her, her opening spread around him, her labia becoming swollen and red. Grasping the doorway with one hand I quietly opened my zipper with the other and pulled my aching erect penis out, sighing with relief as the cool air stroked over it. I ran my fingers over it delicately as I watched him plunging his fingers in and out of her, still watching her face intently.

Then he pulled his fingers out of her, brought them to his noise, and inhaled deeply.

"Ahhh," he sighed.

He stuffed his fingers into his mouth and sucked on them. He licked them clean, both at once, then each individually, groaning the entire time, his eyes open and watching her.

"So sweet, just as I had imagined," he said.

Then, he laid his hand on her cheek and pressed his thumb between her lips.

"You're so passed out," he said. "You're all mine."

He rubbed his thumb over her lips then leaned in and kissed her, soft at first then hard, opening his mouth then pulling away with a soft sucking sound, a string of saliva joining their lips then breaking as he stood up.

He reached out with both hands to grab her panties at her hips and pulled them down, pushing her legs together as they slid down her thighs and calves, then off her feet, and dropped them on the floor. He groaned and rubbed himself quickly as he moved up and grabbed her shirt at her waist. He slid the shirt up off her stomach and over her breasts, then lifted her as he slid it over her head, raising her arms to pull it off of her, and dropping it on the floor. He lifted her back to unhook her bra and then slid it down her arms and to the floor beside her shirt. 

"So gorgeous," he whispered, staring at her nude vulnerable body.

His eyes glued to her he undressed himself. He pulled all of his clothes off until he was standing beside her entirely nude. He looked as I thought he would with a large round stomach and the rest of him comparatively more trim and muscular. His erection stood out long and thin, pointed up, the head a swollen cap on the reed of his almost perfectly straight shaft. 

He walked to the foot of the bed, his penis swaying before him. He grabbed her ankles and pulled her legs apart. Then, he slid his hands up the inside of her legs, pushing them further apart, as he got up on the bed, kneeling at the foot of the mattress. He pushed her knees to the side and up the mattress and crawled up between her legs on his knees and elbows until he reached her pussy.

He slid his hands up her thighs almost to her groin and held them as he lowered his head, setting his butt back on his feet with his legs tucked beneath him. He looked like a penitent bowing before an idol, his head lowered, kneeling before her cunt, his desire hungry but reverential. He inhaled deeply and sighed.

"So sweet," he sighed.

Then, he pressed the tip of his tongue between her labia and licked up slowly, flicking her clitoris. He pulled back a bit, then pressed his tongue into her and licked up again. He took his time, licking her slowly like he was licking the juices from exotic fruit, lapping it up, reveling in the taste of it. He was looking up over her pelvis, watching her as he did it. His hands gripped her thighs tightly, holding her legs spread wide open, her knees pushed out and up, her feet laying limply on the mattress.

I lightly stroked my fingers underneath my erection, feeling it jump when I touched the perineum. I was intently watching Taylor licking her pussy when movement out of the corner of my eyes startled me and I receded into the darkness of the closet. Charles had walked into the bedroom doorway. He stood just inside the doorway, watching Taylor. If he had not been so transfixed by watching his friend on the bed he might have seen me lurking inside the closet. I moved to the side into the shadow cast by the partially closed closet door where I could see both of them.

Charles stood still and watched Taylor lapping at Denise's pussy. He kept sliding his tongue up between her labia and over her clit, going faster as he went and flicking her clit, his eyes still looking over her supine body to her unknowing face. Taylor started sliding his hands back and forth along her inner thighs, luxuriating in the touch of that smooth cool skin, from her butt to her knees. 

"What are you doing?" Charles whispered after a minute of watching.

Taylor didn't answer. He just kept licking her. Then, he hoisted her legs up on his shoulders and pressed his face into her crotch. He began pressing his tongue into her, pushing it flat between her labia, and licking up in long, broad strokes. He pressed her thighs to his face, as he devoured her, her knees in the air, her feet on the bed at his sides. I could imagine the feel of her smooth inner thighs against my cheeks, the heat and moisture of her cunt, and held my erect penis in my hand, too worried about Charles in the doorway to stroke myself a I wanted. 

"Taylor," Charles whispered, louder than before but unsure.

Taylor only pressed his face into her harder, licking and sucking, lapping his tongue over her. Then he sucked her clitoris between his lips and began licking it with his tongue, back and forth. She sighed softly in her sleep and he arched his neck to look at her as he continued.

Charles fidgeted in the doorway, pulling on his lower lip with his teeth, unsure of what to do. From the bulge in his pants I could tell he was turned on but was still too worried about what might happen to act on it. He wanted to do something. He wanted to be doing what Taylor was doing, and more.




Perversions and Transgressions Ch. 07



After I returned from my Thanksgiving visit with Denise I didn't see her again for a while. Our schedules at our respective schools kept us too busy to find time to visit. Even finding time to talk on the phone was difficult. We were both too busy taking classes, going to lectures, studying, and finding time to sleep. Medical school doesn't leave much time for a personal life and Denise had started doing some clinical work for her Psychology Doctorate which kept her busy.

During that time my obsession constantly interrupted my thoughts and occupied me when I wasn't engrossed in my studies. I remembered each time I had watched Denise taken while she was passed out. I ran each experience through my mind again and again. I got hard just thinking about them like a teenager that can't control his erections. 

I imagined new scenarios, some that were realistic, some that could never possibly happen. I imagined taking her to some scummy biker bar, drugging her, and watching as one man after another took her laying on a pool table until her pussy and ass were dripping with their cum. I imagined taking her to a porn theatre, drugging her, and watching as the patrons took her in her seat as they watched the movie, some emulating what they were watching, each so excited he came quickly and the next guy immediately replaced him. I imagined us on an airplane, her in the middle of three seats, me on the aisle, some stranger at the window, me drugging her, then pretending to sleep as the guy put a blanket across him and her and took her carefully and slowly. I imagined her two friends at her university getting her drunk and taking her again, taking her in different scenarios and places and positions. I wondered if having taken her once if they'd be more or less likely to try again. 

Randall became a friend of sorts. I've never been one to make many friends, but he had become a part of my life. He knew my secret. He had known I'd watched him take her one time. Then, when I'd try to set him up again he'd called me out and taken her passed out in the back seat of my car as I drove. Since then he'd made a proposition that he'd act as a middle man for me, that he knew I got off on watching her being fucked and it must be difficult to set up those scenarios, that he'd help me out, he'd set them up, and I could just hide somewhere and watch. I'd gone from dismissing it, bothered that someone knew my secret, to considering it, to finally thinking it would be worth trying. It would be nice to not have to go through all the setup, to lure some guy into it, to worry about it. I thought about the few times I'd tried and the guy hadn't gone for it, the disappointment of a missed opportunity. The setup was part of the turn on but also resulted in failure. With him helping I could reduce the odds of failure.

The main problem was that I didn't entirely trust him. His family was filthy rich and he obviously thought he could do what he wanted and he had never suffered any consequences. Money absolved anyone of anything. But ever since he had approached me about getting involved with my obsession, he'd seemed to calm down and been much more friendly towards me. I knew it was probably a ploy to earn my trust, but thought that would be good enough. Doing this was a risk even for him.

So when the time came when Denise would finally visit me again I let him know. We were both getting a break in our schedules at the same time, about a week, though we both could only take at most a few days, since professors loved to give extra work during breaks. Plus, it was a couple days after my birthday. It was time to see if Randall and I could make it work.

I told him when she was visiting me and he got a grin I had seen only when he talked about his exploits from having sex with women he picked up at a bar or from racing drunks and running them off the road. I questioned myself and then he patted me on the shoulder.

"That's fuckin' great," he said. "I was hoping you'd come to me about this."

"I thought it over and agreed with you," I said cautiously. "But you've got to..."

"I know," he interrupted me. "I've got to be careful and do it right. Don't worry I've got a plan."

We were standing outside a lecture hall and he grabbed my shoulder and led me down a hall, away from people leaving the building where we could talk alone.

"I know you think I'm a spoiled untrustworthy rat, and you know, mostly you're right," he said, looking at me earnestly. "But you have something different than the rest of these fucks here." He pointed down the hall at everyone walking from the lecture hall, talking amongst themselves, carrying books and bags, tapping away at their phones. "You're not part of the herd. We have something in common." He tapped my chest and then his. "We take risks. We take chances. We know what we want and we go for it."

"Okay," I said, feeling like I was being thrown a pitch from a salesman, but seeing that there was a kernel of truth in what he was saying and that he at least believed it himself.

"And besides when we do this it's going to be a bigger risk for me than for you. I'm the one with the most to lose," he said. "If I set this up, if I get a guy to do this for you, if I talk him into it, basically lead him through it, then if I'm caught, it's me that's getting in trouble. You won't have been involved at all and it's not like I could rat you out. It would just be my word against yours and nobody would believe me."

I nodded. He was right about that part.

"Besides nothing bad is going to happen. I've got the perfect plan."

He led me further down the hall as he talked.

"When is she getting here and how long is she staying?" he asked.

I told him when she was coming, that it was partly for my birthday, and for how long.

"That's perfect," he said. "I'm sure the first night you two will want to be alone so you can get that nasty birthday sex." He slapped me on the back and grinned at me. "But the next night, that's the night. I'll throw a party for you. It'll be part birthday party for you and break party for the rest of us. I'll invite some of our classmates..."

"Just our classmates, right?" I asked.

"Hey," he said. "I'm not a dumbass. I wouldn't invite any of the trash I hang out with when I go out. I may not like hanging out with the sheep around here, but I'm not stupid enough to invite the assholes that I do hang with."

"Okay," I said. That had been one of my biggest concerns, worried that he'd want to bring in some of the people he knew from the bars and clubs he frequented, people I didn't want near Denise, despite my own fantasies.

"Besides the whole point is for you to both be comfortable, to throw a party where everyone can let go of some fuckin' stress. We all need it. Then, when the time is right, you do your thing, you know, drug her or whatever it is you do. When she passes out make sure she goes to bed, then you disappear. Hide in the closet or go to the other bedroom and wait like you did with me."

I scowled at him, annoyed that he knew what I had done that first time with him.

"Get over it, man," he said. "I've done more than you'll ever know and you had no chance of getting that past me."

"Whatever," I said, starting to get annoyed with him.

"But just listen to me," he pushed forward. "You disappear wherever and I'll tell everyone that the two lovebirds have gone to bed and it's time for everyone to clear out. I'll hold back anyone I have in mind that I think will do it."

"Just one guy," I said. "I don't want some group of guys taking turns, using her, making her sore, waking her up..."

"I know, man," he said. "Just one guy and I have a couple guys in mind. I'll invite them all and see how things play out"

"Okay," I said.

"Anyway, I'll keep some guy back and tell him that she's passed out in bed alone and he should take a look. No guy will pass that up. Then I'll start things going, go from looking to touching, until he's into it, and things get going. The whole time you can be watching from wherever you want to. I'll make sure the guy doesn't take it too far and keep it all under control."

"And then you'll take your turn," I said.

"Of course," he said. "I'll probably go first. That'll show the guy that it can be done and turn him on so much he'll do it too. Two guys taking it careful and easy shouldn't be a problem."

I knew it wouldn't be a problem. The last time she had been taken buy two guys, one had even fucked her ass, and she hadn't woken up or suspected it in the morning. I thought about it as Randall kept talking.

"I'll call you early that night. You'll tell me that she is there. I'll ask to talk to her. She'll be suspicious. I know she thinks I'm scum. I'll be on my best behavior. I'll tell her that I want to throw you a birthday party for all that you've helped me, that I think you're the best guy here and you deserve it. I'll tell her that we all deserve it. I'll tell her that I'll handle everything. I'll bring the liquor and anything else. She won't have to do a thing. She can just enjoy her time with you. Then when it starts up you drug her like you know how to do and it'll all fall into place."

I thought it sounded like a good plan. Plus I'd still be in control of the situation. If anything happened that I didn't like I could step in. Randall didn't have the control. He was just helping. I still had the control. Control was the most important part to me. I could stop it at anytime. 

"Okay," I said.

"Fuckin' awesome," he said and slapped me on the shoulder. "You won't regret this. You're going to have the time of your life. Trust me."

Trust me, he said. I should have known better. I trusted hardly anyone and I shouldn't have trusted him.

When Denise arrived I was surprised at just how happy I was to see her. I didn't want to stop looking at her, touching her, talking to her, kissing her. When we were apart for so long and so involved in my studies I would forget just how much I did love her. She was the only person I'd ever cared for, that I'd ever loved, that I'd ever trusted so purely. She wasn't just an object to be used for my obsession. 

For that first night and day I barely thought about the party or Randall's plan. When we first made love that night I didn't think about any of those past experiences. The second time those thoughts crept back, helping me to get hard again. In the morning, the third time we made love, my mind was filled with those images and when I came it was with thoughts of some other man having just come inside of her. She came loudly and we were both panting afterwards. She remarked that it just kept getting better each time. I smiled and agreed with her as I stroked her bare skin.

Late that afternoon I got a phone call. It was Randall.

"Hey man, how you doing?" he asked.

"Doing fine, Randall," I said and glanced at Denise.

"Hope you're not too tired out already," he said and laughed.

"Denise is here and we're just hanging out," I responded.

"Yeah, I'll bet," he said.

"What's up?" I asked, trying to not sound annoyed.

"Let me talk to her," he said.

I held the phone out to her.

"He wants to talk to you," I told her.

"Me?" she asked.

I just shrugged and she took it from me.

"Hello?" she said.

She listened for a while, then glanced up at me and away again.

"Yeah," she said and nodded.

She looked at me again and gave me a shrug.

"Okay, that sounds fine," she said after a while.

She handed the phone back to me.

"What was that about?" I asked.

"She agreed to it," he told me. "I told her it didn't have to be a surprise party. I'd leave it up to her and things wouldn't get too crazy. It would just be some boring med school students blowing off steam."

"Okay," I said.

"See you tonight," he said and laughed as he hung up.

I put the phone down and looked at her.

"What did he want?" I asked.

"Like you don't know," she said.

I feigned ignorance.

"There's only a couple of things that guy wants," she said.

"He's not as bad as you think," I said. "He's actually been a big help for me."

"I'm guessing you've helped him more than he's helped you," she responded.

"It's mutual," I said.

"Well, it could be a surprise but I'm sure you've already figured out that he wants to throw a party," she said.

"Ah," I said. "He wants you to kidnap me and take me there?"

"Yeah, tie you up and take you," she said as she pressed against me and looked into my eyes deeply.

"Sounds good to me, but I'd rather just stay here then," I said.

She laughed and kissed me.

"He wants to have the party here," she said, sitting back and looking at me, running her fingers through her long blonde hair, brushing it from her eyes.

"Here?" I asked.

"Yeah, he said it would be partly for your birthday, partly for everyone to unwind," she said.

"I don't know," I said. "He can get pretty wild."

"He said he'd keep it low key. Besides how wild can med school students get? Ya'll are too tired all the time to do much of anything," she replied.

"I wasn't too tired last night," I responded.

"That's true," she said and brushed her hand over my thigh with a grin.

"He said he'll take care of everything. Bring the booze, food, whatever. We won't have to worry about anything. But we'll see. Besides I think I could use it too," she said.

"Then it sounds good to me," I agreed.

He had convinced her and pretty easily it seemed. I had to hand it to him. The guy knew how to get what he wanted.

He showed up a few hours later in the early evening kicking at the door. I opened it to see him standing there with a cardboard box from a liquor store filled with liquor bottles of different types.

"Happy birthday, buddy," he said.

I let him in and he walked to the kitchen to set the box down.

"Though I'll bet it wasn't a secret," he said, looking at Denise.

"He's a bit too smart for that," she said.

"Just barely," he said and punched my shoulder.

"I've got some more things in the car if you want to help me," he told me.

"Sure," I said.

I put on my shoes and walked with him out to the car.

"Okay, everything is setup," he told me. "I invited several people and I expect a lot to show up including a few guys I think will work for us. I got enough alcohol to make a bar full of alcoholics drunk. I'll make sure they get drunk enough to lose their inhibitions but not too drunk to be useless. You just do your part and drug her after a while and we'll be good to go."

"That should work," I said.

I was starting to get that feeling from the expectation of one of these encounters, that surge in my groin and stomach, the lightheadedness that short circuited logic and made me focus on just my goal, my scalp tingling like my hairs were standing on end. I wanted this to happen. I needed this to happen.

In the trunk of his car he had another cardboard box of liquor bottles along with grocery bags of different bags of snacks and another bag with those red plastic cups and several shot glasses.

"You really came prepared," I said.

"Hey man, I told you, just leave this shit to me," he said and hit my shoulder.

We carried it all inside and Denise showed her surprise at all of the stuff he brought.

"How many people are coming to this?" she asked.

"Just enough that everybody can do what they want without judgment and not too many that the cops will come," he said.

"Sounds like the right amount," I said.

He was right. People started showing up pretty early. They were med students after all and though they could really party whenever the rare occasion presented itself they were still too tired to party late into the night like in college. 

Drinks were mixed, shots were passed around, and everyone seemed to be having a good time. Denise mixed in with the students easily as she always did. She was much more sociable than me. I liked to watch her talking to other people, enjoyed watching their reaction to her. Nobody, no matter who, was ever disagreeable to her, all were charmed if not just outright flirtatious.

She looked gorgeous as always. She had pinned the front of her long blonde hair up to keep it from her face, letting it flow down her neck and shoulders. As always she wore a bare amount of makeup, some eye shadow and light pink lipstick, probably more that I didn't notice. She was wearing a black ruffled skirt that came down to above her knees, a blue button-down chambray long-sleeve shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and black ankle boots. A silver necklace I had given her hung around her long neck down to her barely visible cleavage, the top two buttons of her shirt open. She was sexy but not in an outrageous way, sexy and confident, as she always was and still is.

I had the crushed pills wrapped up in a small ball of cellophane in my pocket and was finding the right moment to get it into her drink when some luck provided me with the opportunity. Randall came out of the kitchen carrying two red cups. He handed one to Denise as he passed her and brought the other to me.

"It's a special drink I made up for you," he said. "Give it a try."

I looked at it suspiciously.

"It's nothing much, man," he said. "Though you might want to stick at one."

He laughed and walked away. I looked down at it, swirled it, then took a sip. It barely tasted of alcohol, mostly of juice with a bit of bite, one of those drinks that probably had a lot of alcohol but was masked, the type of drink used to get women drunk. 

I looked at Denise and watched her set the drink down on a side table and then walk over to me.

"You going to drink it?" she asked me.

"Some of it," I said. "Who knows what's in it?"

"I'm not drinking anything he gives me," she said. "For that matter I won't drink anything from anyone I don't trust."

"Want me to make you something?" I asked, seeing my opening.

"Eh, lets do some shots," she said.

"Okay," I agreed.

I took a big sip of my drink and then followed her into the kitchen where the liquor was. A bunch of people were just tossing down some shots, then hooting after they swallowed, a few high fives passed around.

"Let the birthday boy in," Denise said.

"No problem, at all," one guy said, eyeing her up and down.

We walked through the crowd to a counter where several bottles stood, all opened and partially empty.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"Tequila," she said.

"All right, my kind of woman," one of the guys yelled.

I pulled eight shot glasses together against each other and poured tequila in them, moving from one to the other until they were all full. 

"Who wants some?" I asked.

Hands shot out and I started passing them out. One guy accidentally tipped his as he bumped against someone's shoulder and spilled it on the ground.

"Party foul!" was yelled by several people, then "Drink drink drink drink."

"Oh well," he said and shrugged.

"Chugalug," I said and handed him the bottle as he handed me the empty shot glass.

He tipped it up and took a big chug from the bottle. While everyone was watching him, I turned around, quickly pulled the ball of cellophane from my pocket, and dumped the powder into the empty shot glass the guy had handed back to me. I held it in my hand so no one would see the powder in the bottom.

When he was done he let out a big breath that wreaked of tequila and shook his head, his tongue hanging from his mouth.

"Fucked that up," he yelled, making the guys around him cheer.

I took the bottle from him and poured it into the shot glass, covering the powder. I could easily see the powder in the liquid and shook it around, hoping the powder would dissolve, having never put it in such a small amount of liquid.

"Okay, let's do it," Denise said.

I handed the shot glass to her hoping she wouldn't notice, passed out the rest, and took one for myself.




Perversions and Transgressions Ch. 07



"Shoot 'em," I said quickly before she could really look down at the shot.

I tipped it back and let it flow down, my eyes on Denise watching as she did the same. We slammed our glasses down on the counter at the same time, ahead of the rest of the people doing shots.

"That's stiff," she said. "Pour me another."

More cheers followed that. 

I took her shot glass and saw a few bits of the powder on the bottom and filled it up again, along with my own. We shot them down quick just the two of us and slammed them down again. I looked at her glass and didn't see any of the powder left.

"That went down rough," she said. "I think that's enough of those."

"Definitely," I said, squinting as the heat sunk from my throat to my stomach.

I took a big gulp from my cup to cool it off, leaving the cup half empty. I set the cup down and moved over closer to Denise.

"Want me to make you something lighter?" I asked.

"Yeah," she said. "Just a coke and rum."

I made the drink, taking it easy on the rum and gave it to her. She took a sip and nodded.

"I think I can handle that for now," she said.

"More shots!" someone yelled.

That guy that spilled his shot earlier, stepped forward and poured more shots of tequila.

"When ya'll get sick, go outside," I said.

"I can hold my own," he said.

As he set the bottle of tequila back down he bumped into my cup and knocked it over, spilling the drink across the counter.

"Party foul!" someone yelled.

Denise grabbed some paper towels quickly and began wiping up the spill before it could get on the floor.

"Dammit!" the guy said.

He picked up two shot glasses, slammed one down and then the other.

"You'll do better if you just stop moving," I told him.

I got more paper towels, cleaned up the rest of the mess, and threw them in the trash can. I took Denise's hand and led her out of the crowded kitchen.

I stood by her side while she mingled through the room introducing me to people I should have already known. I saw Randall talking up a couple of girls in the hallway outside the bathroom. He winked at me then turned back to them.

Eventually Denise started to get tired and I sat her down on the only empty chair in the living room. I sat on the floor beside her, starting to feel tired myself. I figured I'd had too much to drink and shouldn't have done the shots. I've never been a heavy drinker.

"You guys look like you're getting tired?" Randall said.

I looked up to see him standing next to me. I hadn't even heard him walk up. I must have nodded off.

"Yeah," I said, feeling like I was in a haze. 

"Maybe you should lay down," he said.

I nodded. He helped me up, leading me towards the bedroom, but I stumbled towards the couch and sat down, forcing the people sitting there to move over.

"Come on, man, we need to get you back to bed," Randall said, his voice more urgent.

"I think I'll just sit here," I said.

I felt like my mind was cloudy and my body was heavy. I had never felt like that before, not even from drinking.

Randall grabbed my upper arm and tried to pull me up. I pulled my arm out of his hands and sat back in the couch.

"Okay, man," he said, holding his hands up. "Just sit tight there for now."

I watched him walk away and then looked at Denise in the chair across from me. She was slouching, her head hanging down. She lifted her head up, looked over at me, smiled, and then her head dipped again. She was starting to go out. I needed to get her to bed. I need to go get ready for our plan. I needed to get moving.

I didn't move. I stayed there. My eyes closed. I heard the noise around me. I heard disembodied voices. At some point I lay out on the couch, taking the entire thing. Then, I heard and felt nothing.

I don't know how long I was out. I was woken up by the front door closing loudly. I was too tired to be startled awake. I just became conscious again with my eyes still closed, my eyelids heavy, my entire body heavy.

I heard voices but couldn't understand them. The room felt less crowded and I only heard two voices. I pushed myself out of the darkness, trying to concentrate, but my thoughts and senses were muddled. I tried to urge my body to move, to lift my head, even just slide an arm or leg along the couch, but I couldn't. I was confused and my thoughts too slow and clouded to make sense of what had happened to me.

My mind was urging me to give in, drift back into the deep, dark sleep, lose consciousness, stop struggling against it, but I've always had a fear of being helpless, even of just going to sleep. I hate being unconscious and vulnerable. I've always been a light sleeper because of it, always resisted sleep. So, I did this time as well. I fought against the urge to let go the only way I could, I concentrated on what I could hear, the only sense that seemed to really be working, the one that maybe I could control.

I focused on my breathing, feeling my breath moving in and out of my lungs as they expanded and contracted. I counted them to ten then twenty, then I listened to my own breathing. My head was titled awkwardly on the couch and my breath came through my mouth louder than normal. I could hear it fine. 

Then, I tried to extend my hearing, listening to the voices. One sounded angry. I didn't recognize it. It could have come from anyone, but it didn't sound right, didn't sound like a student, rough and smooth at the same time. Then, I heard Randall, talking quieter, sounding timid. I focused intently on their voices.

"I don't know what the fuck you think this is," the unknown man said, still angry, but not yelling, just harsh, even offended.

"I think it's pretty obvious," Randall said and gave a nervous laugh.

I'd never heard Randall sound nervous and restrained like this. He was intimidated by the other man. Something was wrong.

"Of course it's pretty fucking obvious," the man said. "You're the one who called me. You're the one who told me to come here. You're the one who told me you were going to pay what you owed me."

"That's right," Randall stammered.

"And what else is fucking obvious is you're not going to pay me," the man said.

"Yes, yes, I am," Randall said. "It's just I don't have the money... I don't have the cash... right now at least... so I thought we could trade... like I said on the phone... that I could make it up to you."

"Make it up to me?" the man said, his voice calming.

"Yeah," Randall said. "There are things better than money, things money can't buy..."

"Money can buy anything," the man interrupted. "With enough of it."

"True," Randall said. "But this... this would take more money than what I owe."

"Bullshit," another man said, this voice deeper, rougher.

"Shut the fuck up," the first man said.

"It's true, man," Randall continued, trying to get into that salesman role he worked so well. "Just look at her. She's not some whore that puts out for money. She's a sweet, tight, upper class white girl. She's pussy you can't just pay for on a street corner. She'd think she's too good to have anything to do with you if you tried to talk to her. That's pussy you could never pay for, never have, at least without getting arrested, but now you can."

A bolt of shock pierced through my groggy mind. They were talking about Denise. Randall was offering her to some man, someone I didn't know. Some adrenaline kicked in and I felt the cloudiness recede and my heart speeding up. I urged my eyelids open and felt them raise, felt them pull apart like they had been coated with a heavy slime. They barely opened but my vision was cloudy and I couldn't focus. I saw three people standing in the middle of the room, their backs to me, but that's all the detail I could see. I concentrated on trying to focus my sight as I listened.

They had been quiet for a few moments as the first man considered Randall's speech.

"So you think having me rape this passed out girl will pay back your debt? Is that what you're trying to sell me?" he said.

"That's a bit blunt," Randall said, a slight tremor in his voice that he was trying to subdue.

"But that's it, isn't it?" the man said.

"Look, Wallace, I know about your history. I know about the arrests for rape and assault. I know before you made it big you would make some women pay for their junk with their bodies, even taking them when they were high..."

"Listen," the man who I knew now was named Wallace started to say.

"Hey, I'm not judging," Randall interrupted him. "I'm just stating facts. And I know you have a thing for these prissy white girls, the ones you know look down on you, that would never have a thing to do with you, and here I'm offering one up to you, and she's about the sexiest white girl you've probably seen... gorgeous... that long blonde hair... firm... tight... in more ways than one."

There was silence and I forced my eyes to focus and could see Randall on the left, beside him I saw a taller man, thin, dark skin, in a blue old-fashioned suit, looking at Randall.

"Yeah, I've fucked her before," Randall continued. "Twice as a matter of fact. Both times when she was passed out like this, and let me tell you it was fuckin' sweet. I ain't never had pussy like that and I've had a lot." He laughed softly.

"You tellin' me you've fucked her like that before?" Wallace asked.

"Sure. I wouldn't lie to you," Randall said. "And hell I'm not the only one. Her boyfriend over there." He pointed back at me. Wallace turned to look at me then turned back to Randall. "He gets off on it. He drugs her then gets guys to fuck her while he watches and jerks off."

"You fuckin' with me," Wallace said. "That's some sick perverted shit."

"Hey I don't judge," Randall said, holding his hands up. "To each his own. Besides I've benefited from it. Twice. And now you can too."

"Then why's he passed out back there," Wallace said.

He turned and walked towards me. I closed my eyes which had been barely open, not wanting them to know I was conscious.

"I just didn't think he'd approve of this arrangement. I played him. I told him I'd get some lame med school student to fuck her while he watched. But saw this as an opportunity I could extend to you," Randall said.

"So you drugged him, too?" Wallace said.

He was sounding interested. If he wasn't interested in the deal he'd have left already. But he was staying, figuring it out. I forced my eyes open again, this time able to focus better. I saw a third guy standing near the door. This was the guy who had spoken up earlier and been shut up by Wallace. He was bigger and darker than Wallace, tall, wide, strong, wearing a plain white tank top tight across his heavily muscled upper body with dark tattoos covering his arms. Wallace was obviously some kind of drug dealer or pimp or both and this guy was his muscle.

"Well, I drugged just him. I roofied him. He drugged her. He drugged her thinking it was part of our plan. He knows how to do it. He's tested this shit out. He told me about it. He has something special he gives her. I don't know what it is. It's better than roofies. It knocks her out and you can do basically anything to her, probably not too rough I'd guess and she won't wake up. He's done it several times," Randall explained to him

I cursed myself for sharing that information with Randall, for letting him in on this, for trusting him at all. I should have known better. 

I tried to move my limbs, tried to lift my head, tried to move at all, to do something, but I just couldn't. All I could do was lay there and watch and listen. I was able to hear and focus better. The darkness was receding. He must have drugged the drink he'd given me. If the drunk guy hadn't have spilled it I'd have drank it all and been passed out right now, completely unaware of Randall's double cross.

"So you're trying to tell me that I can fuck this girl right now. Fuck her and she won't wake, won't know, and I can get away with this scott-free, no rape charges, nothing?" Wallace asked him, the anger having disappeared from his voice, now starting to sound excited.

"That's not just what I'm telling you. I'm promising you. You just can't get too rough or leave any marks I'd guess," Randall said. "When I fucked her before I fucked her pretty hard and she barely stirred. Not to mention any other guys that have done it."

"This sounds like a setup to me," Wallace said. "Like you trying to trick me. Get me arrested, thinking you won't have to pay me back." He took a step towards Randall, close enough their faces were almost touching. "But it don't matter where I am. If you get me arrested I'll send Russell after you." He pointed at the big guy standing by the door. "And Russell isn't nearly as nice as I am. He'll introduce you to pain you never thought possible. You'll beg him to kill you."

Russell took a step away from the door, looking into Randall's eyes, giving him a blank stare, empty, dead.

"Hey man," Randall stammered, stepping back, holding his hands up. "I wouldn't lie to you. I wouldn't trick you. I'm not stupid. You know that. This is the real deal. I'm just trying to make the best of a bad situation."

"A bad situation?" Wallace said. "You mean the fuckin' money you owe me you gambling junkie piece of shit?"

So he was a bookie, or at least also a bookie.

"Yeah," Randall said. "Look I'd pay you if I had the money. I just don't have it. I told you my dad cut me off. I'm getting expelled from school. I fucked up. I told you about my dad paying off the cops, but he said that's the last he's doing that. I am completely cut off. Fuck, he's going to take away my car, my house, everything. I have nothing."

Randall truly sounded pitiful. I'd never heard him sound so vulnerable, so afraid, with none of that cocksure confidence. There was silence for what felt like a long time. Wallace was considering it, watching Randall, looking for any lies, any betrayal. He turned to look at Denise slouched helplessly in the chair. His tongue crept from his mouth and licked his lips.

"I'll tell you what," Wallace said. "We'll make a deal. You're right I can't resist rich uptight white pussy laid out like this and I want to fuck her. I've never had pussy like this. But fucking her isn't going to pay back all of your debt."

"But..." Randall said.

Wallace held his hand up to stop him.

"Russell gets to fuck her too. He's only known skanks and junkies. It'd be good for him to try out some rich white cunt."

"I could go for that," Russell said.

"Hey, you're in control here, man," Randall said. "That works for me." He looked at Russell then back at Wallace. "But you've both got to promise to be careful. Don't leave any marks. Don't get too rough."

"Hear that Russell," Wallace said. "No beating her up like you do those skanks you normally fuck. This is prime tight white pussy. It needs to be treated right."

"Whatever you say, boss," Russell said, a bit of excitement lurking behind the calm.

I tried again to get control of my body, to sit up, to do something, but I couldn't budge. I opened my mouth to yell at them, tell them to stop, and only a bare whisper came out. Then I shut my mouth. What would it solve if I could yell at them? I couldn't move. I couldn't fight them. At best they'd laugh at me and just do what they were going to do. At worst Russell would beat me to a pulp until I was unconscious again. I was helpless. I couldn't do anything.

I cursed myself again for allowing this to happen, for thinking I had control of a situation that I hadn't, for letting someone else in, for trusting someone else. I had known this was something I needed to keep to myself. Randall had enticed me, he'd sold me on this, and now I was going to pay. Hopefully, Denise wouldn't have to pay for my mistake as well.

I could feel my head getting less cloudy. I was feeling more steady. I could focus on the three guys that were hovering over Denise, looking down at her, doing nothing, saying nothing. I could feel that old tension, that suspension as the men thought about what they were doing, what they were about to do, as they looked over the unconscious woman, as they got more aroused, as they mulled over the situation, imagined themselves taking her, looking her over, taking her in as just an object to be used. This was the moment I always seemed to enjoy the most and despite my own paralysis and betrayal I felt it again, surprising me as I felt it blossom in my groin and creep into my stomach slowly.

"Get down on your knees," Wallace said, his voice soft but deep.

Nobody moved.

"Randall," Wallace said, louder this time, now looking at him. "I said to get down on your knees."

"What?" Randall asked. "What do you... What do you want me to do that for?"

Wallace laughed and Russell joined him for one gruff chuckle.

"You think I want you to suck my cock?" Wallace asked. "If I wanted that you'd do it wouldn't you?"

Randall didn't say anything.

"I wouldn't give you the privilege, pretty boy," Wallace said and slapped the back of his hand into Randall's chest. "Get down on your knees and eat her pussy. Show me she ain't going to wake up. And get that pussy nice and wet for my cock."

"Oh," Randall said, his voice soft and confused, but relieved.

Randall kneeled down slowly. Wallace moved to the side, giving me a perfect view. Denise was slumped in the chair, her left arm on the chair, her right arm across her waist, her head titled to the side with her chin on her chest, and her blonde hair covering half of her face. Her skirt had bunched up to her thighs as she had slid down further in the chair and stretched her legs out, her feet resting on the heels of her ankle boots. 

Randall lay his hands on her knees and pushed her legs apart as he moved between them, watching her face. He slid his hands up her thighs, under her skirt, grabbed her butt and pulled her towards him, sliding her body down in the chair until her butt was right on the edge of the chair, bending her knees, her legs falling to the side, spreading her thighs further. He watched her intently as he pushed the skirt up, exposing her tiny thin white G-string underwear.

Russell moved quietly from his place at the door to the center of the room. He looked around the room like he was looking for something or someone.

"We're alone here?" Russell asked.

"Yeah," Randall said.

"Check anyway," Wallace said.

Russell walked slow and heavy across the room. I closed my eyes, making sure I appeared asleep. I heard him walk towards me, stopping for a moment. I could feel him hovering over me. I could hear his breath, deep and raspy like he had some trouble breathing. I felt a hand on my face and stopped myself from jumping at the touch. The hand moved down to my neck. He was feeling for a pulse. I guess I did look passed out, even dead.

"What did you give him?" Russell asked.

"Just roofies," Randall said. "I've done it a bunch of times. He won't be waking up."

"He better not," Russell said, the threat about what would happen to me and Randall implicit.

The hand pushed against my shoulder roughly, shoving my back against the back of the couch, held me there, then shoved me again harder, then shook me back and forth. My body flopped with his shaking. I couldn't have resisted if I had wanted to. My body was still useless. I just kept my eyes closed, tried to breathe softly like I was asleep. When he stopped I slumped back on to my side like I had been. He stood over me for a while, just watching me. As I kept my eyes closed I felt my mind wanting to drift into sleep again, wanting to dive into the darkness. I resisted, focusing on my hearing, focusing on the man standing over me, watching me.

Then, I heard him move away. He walked down the hallway to the bedrooms and bathroom. I continued laying still, breathing softly, just listening and waiting. I hoped he wouldn't find anybody else, either passed out or hiding. I figured he wouldn't, that Randall would have taken care of that before calling them over. 




Perversions and Transgressions Ch. 07



After a minute, I heard him walking back, those footsteps so slow and loud. He walked across the living room to the kitchen, then back again.

"Place is clear," he said.

"Good," Wallace said. "Shut the blinds."

I heard him walk across the room, snap the blinds shut on the front windows, then move to the back of the room and do the same. I heard him test the back door, making sure it was locked. He walked across the room, back to where he had been standing, near the front door.

"Continue," Wallace said, talking to Randall this time.

I wondered if I could open my eyes again. Was Russell watching me? I was the only one they had to worry about. Why hadn't they moved me into another room? Maybe afraid to wake me doing that. More than likely they just didn't see me as a threat. If I did waken there would be nothing I could do. Randall had told them I was a part of this. To them I was nothing, an accomplice at best, an annoyance at worst.

I lightly fluttered one eye open, looking for Russell. Through my eyelashes I saw his broad figure standing near the door but further to the center of the room, his arms crossed across his large chest, looking at Denise, not watching me. 

I opened both eyes, ready to snap them shut if anyone looked at me, but Wallace and Russell were turned away from me and watching Randall on his knees in front of Denise.

Randall had his hands up her skirt. He grabbed her panties and slowly pulled them down her thighs, backing up as he pulled them over her knees, pushing her legs back together and down. He lifted up her left foot and with some trouble pulled the boot through then left the panties dangling on her right boot. He pushed her knees apart and moved back up between her legs. Denise didn't make a noise, just lay there, breathing softly in her deep sleep.

He looked up at Wallace for a moment, not pleading, just a submissive, humiliated look, then he turned back to Denise. He crouched down so he was sitting back on his heels. He slid his hands up and down her bare thighs as he looked her up and down, from her pussy positioned at the edge of the chair up her body to her unresponsive face. 

Then, he pushed her legs apart further and lowered his head between her thighs. He scooted back as his lips met her pussy, kissing her there almost sweetly, then pressing his tongue between her folds of flesh. He licked her up and down a few times slowly, then tilted his head up to look at her face. He watched her for any response as his tongue rolled over her clitoris. She didn't stir or make a sound.

He sucked her clitoris between his lips and flicked it softly with his tongue as he continued watching her. Her breathing seemed to increase, her chest rising and falling, but she made no sounds. He tilted his head back down and began licking her pussy up and down. He pressed his hands against her thighs, keeping her legs apart as he pushed his tongue inside of her, probing her, then licked up and over her clit, back down and inside her and back up, again and again, faster each time.

Her breathing hitched for a second and she made a small sigh. Randall looked up at her as he continued licking her, his tongue spreading her labia. She made no further sounds but her breathing was definitely heavier.

"Good dog," Wallace said and pet Randall on the head.

Randall stopped and started to pull his head away, but Wallace pushed him back.

"I didn't tell you stop, little doggy," Wallace said. "You need to make that pussy nice and wet for me. Stick your fingers inside of her and get her ready for me."

Randall did as he was told. He had no other choice, and besides he was probably enjoying it anyway.

He slid his left hand up her inner thigh and raised his head up, his tongue lapping at her clitoris as he slid his index finger into her, sliding in easily, her pussy wet from his saliva and her own juices. He moved the finger in and out, then slid his middle finger in too, pushing them in to their full length. He held his fingers inside of her as he licked at her clitoris faster. 

He curled his fingers back and forth inside of her, jamming his hand against her, sucking on her clit, moaning quietly to himself. He was definitely enjoying it. How couldn't he? To be between her gorgeous legs, licking her perfect pussy, smelling her, feeling her get wet, no matter how awkward or humiliating his position it couldn't help but be arousing.

Wallace slid his suit jacket off and handed it back to Russell, who took it and laid it over a bulging forearm. Wallace rubbed his hand over his crotch a few times, then opened the fly on his pants. He pulled out his penis, thick and hard.

"Fuck her harder," Wallace said, his voice softer.

Randall started fucking her with his two fingers, bumping his hand against her crotch each time he pushed them into her. He lapped at her pussy, moving his tongue up and down from his fingers then over her clit. Her body swayed back and forth gently with his thrusting fingers. She started making light groans, then sighed deeply and was silent again.

"Okay, doggy," Wallace said. "Get out of the way to let daddy play."

Randall stopped, lift his head up, and pulled his fingers from her, her pussy grasping at them as if trying to hold them inside of her. He looked over her limp body as he moved out of the way. I could see easily between her spread thighs. Her pussy was glistening wet, her lips red and swollen, her pussy a small wet opening. She was beautiful. I felt my penis hardening and was glad I was laying mostly forward on my stomach, pressing the erection between the couch and my body so nobody would see if they even bothered to look.

Wallace pulled a condom wrapper out of his pocket. He tore the package open with his teeth and pulled out the condom.

"She's clean," Randall said. "You don't have to worry..."

"I ain't worried," Wallace interrupted him. "Just not stupid."

He rolled the condom down his thick shaft and then slid his hand up and down his cloaked erection.

"Besides I ain't going anywhere you've been without a rubber, dog," Wallace said.

Randall didn't respond, just sat back on his heels, still sitting on the ground, licking the taste of her pussy from his lips.

Wallace moved towards her, between her legs, and kneeled down, grabbing her knees with his hands. He slid his hands up and down her firm thighs and leaned back, staring at her.

He whistled softly and shook his head.

"Man, she is one fine piece of ass," he said. 

"I told you when I called you..." Randall started to say.

"Shut up, dog," Wallace said loudly. "Hearing your voice ruins it for me."

Randall closed his mouth and sat still on the floor, just watching.

Wallace rubbed his hand against her pussy, up and down a few times, his fingers exploring her.

"Yeah, she's nice and wet," he said.

He spread her pussy open with one hand, grabbed his dick with the other, and slid the head up and down between her wet lips. He looked so thick, even with Randall's oral foreplay I thought it would be a struggle for him to enter her. I knew she wouldn't waken from it, but hoped she wouldn't be sore later.

After coating the head of his cock with her moisture he pushed it down and into her. The head slid into her easily, then he stopped as the wider shaft began to spread her open. 

I felt an excited tremble course through my body at the sight of another man penetrating her. Then I realized I was starting to get some muscle control back. I tried to just move my arm but it wouldn't move. I was still too drugged, but my body was responding to the scene I was watching. I felt anger at being helpless, but also aroused as I watched my fiancée being taken by an unknown man.

"A tight one on this little princess," Wallace groaned.

He placed his hands on her groin on either side of her pussy so he could spread her open with his thumbs, pulling her lips back, and watched as he moved back and forth, pushing his thick shaft into her. She groaned when he slid in halfway and he stopped, holding still inside of her and looked at her face. 

"You feeling that, baby?" he said to her. "Yeah, you are. You're liking that, aren't you?"

He watched her face as he began moving again, sliding into her deeper until after just a few strokes he was totally engulfed inside of her. He held still, his pelvis pressed against her crotch and moved his hands up her body, over her skirt, along the sides of her body and breasts over her shirt, and up to her face. He held her face in both hands and lifted her head up from her shoulder. Her mouth was open as she breathed deeply. He looked into her flushed face and leaned forward. He pressed his mouth to hers and kissed her deeply, plunging his tongue into her mouth. He began moving his hips, churning his cock inside of her as he kissed her.

I could hear the wet sloppy kisses like he was sucking on her mouth, slurping his tongue over hers, his mouth engulfing hers. His hips moved slowly as he barely pulled out of her before pushing back in, filling her with his thick shaft, churning her deep inside. 

Randall squirmed to the side to see better and started to stand. Russell looked at him and held his hand up. Randall looked at him and stopped. Russell lowered his hand slowly and Randall sat back down like Russell was pushing him back down. He sat down on his butt and leaned back, his arms behind him, trying to look cool and calm. 

Wallace began moving faster, pulling further from her and driving into her, still kissing her, but his mouth separating from hers as he groaned. His hips banged against her thighs each time, making her legs shake and the chair squeak. Her body shifted back and forth with his rhythm. He pulled his face back from hers and looked at her, still holding her face in his hands.

"I bet your daddy's little girl, aren't you?" he said to her. "Daddy's sweet little princess. So beautiful and precious."

He leaned back, letting his hands slide down her neck to her shirt. He began unbuttoning her shirt as he fucked her slowly, sliding in and out of her in long, slow strokes, now concentrating on getting her shirt open.

"Oh, if only daddy saw you now, baby girl," he said. "If daddy saw his little princess being fucked by me."

He carefully opened each button until the last then lightly brushed the shirt aside, revealing her flat, toned stomach and white lacey bra covering her firm breasts. He slid his hands up her stomach to her breasts and cupped them in his hands. He started fucking her harder, pulling out then snapping forward, her body jerking with the thrusts, her breasts bouncing in his hands.

"And deep inside you want this, you want this cock inside you," he said. "I can feel how wet you are. Daddy's little girl likes a fat cock inside her."

He threw his head back as he started fucking her faster, snapping his hips, and pounding into her. Denise started making soft grunting noises as he drove into her. I could hear that wet mushy sound of his cock sliding in and out of her moist pussy. He slapped his hips against her again and again, making her body shake and the chair squeak loudly.

"Yeah, just like that, baby girl," he moaned.

Then, he leaned forward and slid his hands from her breasts down to her waist and held her tightly, held her against him as he fucked her hard and fast, his hips jerking, as he plunged into her deeply. He grunted with each thrust, looking down into her passive face. Soft moans came from her wet parted lips. 

"Just like that, just like that, just like that..." he started to chant over and over.

Her body was held still by his strong hands on her hips except for her legs rocking back and forth, her boot heels dug into the carpet, her thighs bouncing off his thrusting body. His body straightened until he seemed to be looming over her, still looking down at her, his thrusts short but hard and deep, pushing as deep into her as he could, stretching her pussy around his thick shaft, until he groaned loudly and snapped his hips against her, held still for a second, then pulled back and shoved into her hard again. His body trembled and shook and he leaned forward, arching his back, his forehead almost touching hers, looking down at her as he came inside of her. He pushed into her tightly, pulling back a bit, just to push in deep again, holding still, his body clenching, concentrating on his cock jerking inside of her, spewing into the condom.

I felt my own aching erection stuck between my body and the couch. I tried to move my hips to relieve the pressure and for a moment thought I would, but I couldn't. My head was now mostly clear. I could see and hear well. I could probably even speak if I wanted to, but my body was still limp. Randall hadn't just roofied me as he'd said. He'd used something else, some kind of paralytic. Again I was glad for the drunken student who'd spilled my drink before I'd drank all of the drug.

Wallace groaned loudly, put his hands on the chair arms and straightened up so he was no longer curled over her. He looked down at her as he panted in long deep breaths. His body jerked spastically as his cock spurted its last. He slid his hands up and down her firm thighs as he sighed heavily.

"Oh, baby girl, I wish that would have lasted longer, but your pussy was just too good," he said. 

He looked down at his shaft parting her pussy and sunk inside of her. He slid it back and forth a few times, making his body tremble and bringing another deep sigh. Then, he grabbed the base of his dick and pulled it out of her. Her pussy made a soft sucking sound as he plopped out. Her lips stayed parted, her pussy spread open in a small circle, the muscles stretched from his large shaft.

"You're still going to take my seed inside of you, baby girl," he said.

He stood up, grasping the condom at the base of his cock. He walked over to the side of the chair as he started rolling the condom down his shaft. When it was almost off he pinched the tip of it then slid it off the rest of the way, leaning over to pull it down, until he was holding the condom by the curled opening, the tip dangling towards the floor filled with his semen.

"Daddy's little girl needs a little snack," he said with a large grin.

With one hand he reached behind her neck and back and pulled her body forward until her head leaned back against the chair, her face tilted up and to the side, her mouth open. He gripped her chin, holding her face up and mouth open, and then holding the condom pinched on the side he titled it towards her mouth. He let the used condom lay in his palm as he spilled its contents into her open mouth. The white liquid dripped out at first in a small stream between her lips, sliding down her tongue, then spilled out as he tilted it up.

Semen poured from the condom in one big large stream then trailed off as he held it vertical. He shook it once and then squeezed it in his fist, squishing the last bit of semen out of the condom. The semen pooled in her mouth.

He closed her mouth and waited. She jerked once, seemed to try to cough, then I saw her throat flex as she swallowed automatically. He held her mouth closed, watching her throat as she swallowed a couple more times, then pulled his hand away, letting her mouth open. She took a deep breath, her head drooping to the side as he pulled his hand from her chin. She smacked her lips in her sleep, then went back to breathing long and deep.

"That's a good girl, drank all of that cum and let it squirm in your belly," he said. 

He touched her forehead, brushing the hair from her face, almost lovingly. 

"She was worth it Randall," he said softly, still looking down at her. "I haven't had pussy so sweet before."

"I told you. When I called you I..." Randall started.

"Just shut up," Wallace said. "Take a compliment and shut the fuck up."

Randall did, having to bite his lip to stop himself.

"And flush this down the toilet," Wallace said.

He threw the balled up condom at Randall who jerked back as it him in the chest. He grabbed it instinctively, almost threw it down, then held it in his hand, a look of disgust on his face.

"Make sure it goes down the toilet, then come back here and sit down like a good doggy," Wallace told him.

Randall stood up and walked quickly back to the bathroom. Wallace turned away from Denise, his penis flaccid but still thick and long hanging from his pants. He stuffed it back in, still glistening wet, and zipped up. He held his hand out to Russell, who handed him back his jacket.

Wallace opened the jacket and pulled out a handkerchief. He wiped the beads of sweat from his face, then swiped it around his neck and then down his shirt to the top of his chest.

"That's some fine pussy there, Russell," Wallace said, looking at Denise.

She was laying there, her legs spread wide, her pussy wet, her shirt open, her breasts clad in the lacey bra rising and falling with her breaths, her head titled down, her blonde hair tossed about her shoulders. Her cheeks and chest were flushed red. Small beads of sweat shone on her skin. 

"I've got more condoms in my pocket," Wallace said, reaching into his pocket.

"No thank you, sir," Russell said, his voice deep and rough like he had smoked cigarettes and drank whiskey his entire life.

"Well, just don't come in her," Wallace said. "Come on her if you have to. Don't come in her. I don't entirely trust that little doggy."

"Yes, sir," Russell said.

"And do it take it easy," Wallace said. "Don't leave any bruises or marks. This isn't some dope fiend you can use to get her fix. This is a little princess with a delicate little flower between her legs."

"Yes, sir," Russell said.

He was just looking at Denise as Wallace spoke to him. His responses seemed quiet like his mind was far away.

The toilet flushed twice and Randall came back.

"I flushed twice to make sure it went down," Randall said.

"Good dog, now sit," Wallace said.

Randall sat down as before.

Russell moved towards her until he was standing between her knees. He looked down at her intently. The man was like a piece of stone, hard with sharp edges and no emotional responses. I started to worry for her. For the first time since I'd started tricking men into fucking her I was actually worried, worried that he would take it too far, worried that I could do nothing to stop it, worried that this man with a history of hurting women, was going to be fucking Denise, and for the first time I almost felt shame. I say I almost felt shame because despite the anxiety and worry I was still aroused. My dick was still hard and running through me was curiosity and arousal, wondering what he would do as much as I worried about it. This was new territory for me, a whole new situation, and he was a type of person I'd never known in my life, the type of person I'd only imagined I could let fuck her, but never thought I would actually let it happen. But there was no way I could stop it.

Russell stood over her for a while, the only movement his head tilting up and down as he studied her splayed body and the rising of his chest and shoulders as he breathed deeply. Then, slowly he removed the tank top, pulling it over his head and dropping it to the floor. I saw the tattoos on his arms before but now saw his chest, stomach, and back were covered in black ink, so much that I couldn't make sense of the individual tattoos. They seemed to merge into a big collage of dark symbols and runes across his chiseled and heavily muscled torso and arms. 

I heard myself take a deep trembling breath and then became worried they had heard me but nobody looked at me. I was definitely getting more control over my body. I could feel a tingling in my fingertips like when they have fallen asleep and the circulation starts in them again.

He slowly sunk to one knee in front of her, almost like a knight bowing before a princess. He took one of her feet and placed it on his knee. He carefully untied the boot and slipped it off her foot, placing the boot gently beside the chair. He held her foot in his giant hand, encircling her entire foot. He ran his thumb up and down her sole from her heel to her toes, bending the toes back slightly. He lifted her foot and placed the sole to his face. He inhaled deeply, one hand holding her ankle, the other hand sliding down her leg under her knee. His tongue came out, long and thick, and he licked up the sole of her foot to her toes and sucked each toe individually into his mouth, from the smallest to the big toe. Then, he rubbed her foot against the side of his face and inhaled deeply again. His body trembled and he groaned, the first sign of real emotion from him, of true arousal.




Perversions and Transgressions Ch. 08



I became frightened after my last experience having my girlfriend fucked while drugged and unconscious. I had been drugged as well. My accomplice Randall had double-crossed me, drugged me, and allowed a bookie and his muscle to use Denise to pay back a debt to them. He'd then left medical school and disappeared. 

Truthfully watching Denise taken, even while vulnerable myself, had been somewhat arousing during the experience. Afterwards however I thought about how vulnerable I had been. I hadn't been able to move. I couldn't have protected myself or Denise. They could have robbed me, hurt me, raped me, or done anything else they'd wanted to me or Denise.

I thought how I had been put in the same situation that I had put Denise several times, but that wasn't entirely true. I had been conscious and aware of what was happening. She was always unconscious and totally unaware. I was there to protect her and stop anyone from hurting here. That last time was different. 

Still I was too scared to do it again for a while. I even moved out of my apartment, worried that the bookie might come back for more. I didn't drug Denise again for a few years. It was probably a good thing since she had started to become suspicious. I had drugged her so many times over only a couple years that she became concerned with how she passed out when she drank and that she awoke feeling we had fucked but couldn't remember it. She cut back on her drinking. Even if I had wanted to drug her I wouldn't have been able to.

My major mistake with that last experience had been to allow someone else in on it and trusting someone else to help me with it. I knew it was a bad idea and yet had allowed my own desire and perversion to wash away those doubts. It had been a huge mistake and one I shouldn't have made.

After my fourth year at medical school, the last of which was my residency at a local hospital, I was able to transfer to a hospital in the same city as Denise to start my surgical residency. It was unusual to transfer to another hospital but I wanted to get out of the city, still afraid of the bookie, and Denise and I wanted to be together. My supervisor liked me and had a connection at the hospital I transferred to, allowing me to do it. 

Denise was doing an internship as well as taking classes for her psychology doctorate. We moved in together and after being engaged for several years finally got married. 

At the time I thought being married and having had a bad experience last time I'd drugged her that I could stop myself from doing it again. I still fantasized about it. I masturbated thinking about the previous experiences. During sex I often thought about them and imagined someone else fucking her while I watched. It was still an obsession and over time my desire to do it again only grew.

That's the problem with denying yourself something that you desire; you only want it more. The desire doesn't fade. It only strengthens until it overwhelms the rest of your life. With the combination of my thoughts being consumed by that desire and the long hours at the hospital I wasn't performing well at my residency. My new supervisor was regretting taking me on. I had difficulty remembering things I had learned in my previous schooling. I had to spend even more time studying to try to remember and only became more tired which just compounded my problems.

I had to do something. There was only one solution. Despite my worries about the previous experience I had to do it again. It was the only way I could deal with that desire.

Once I had made up my mind to do it again I started thinking about how to do it. With my mind able to finally focus on that task I was able to perform better at my work and studies. I knew I could become the top resident if I could make it happen again. Even just knowing it would happen again eased the desire some. The anticipation was its own high, but it wouldn't sustain me. I'd have to make it happen and soon.

I had gotten two of Denise's classmates and friends, Charles and Taylor, to fuck her a few years before and I thought I could get them to do it again. I thought it would be the safest way to make it happen. They had done it before and so it would be easier to get them to do it again. They had been careful with her before and so I trusted them to be careful with her again. The only problem was that Taylor was in a serious relationship with Rebecca who had previously been in a relationship with Charles. As a result the friendship between Charles and Taylor was strained so they didn't hang out together as often. Also with Taylor in a serious relationship and getting regular sex he seemed to be less attracted to Denise. Previously he had watched her with naked desire but now only gave her passing glances. Charles however seemed to be just as enthralled with her if not more. He said he was too busy for a serious relationship and been with several women over the years. I could focus on him. I thought I could make him do it. I just had to figure out how to make it happen.

My usual technique had been to throw a party or take her somewhere there would be alcohol, get her to drink some, put the drug in her drink, and then manipulate the situation so she was alone with the guy I wanted to fuck her. Then, when she woke up the next day she would assume she had passed out because of the alcohol and if she felt she'd had sex I'd just tell her that had been us and she just didn't remember because of the alcohol. But she had stopped drinking as much and there wasn't much time for parties or even going out to drink. I figured it was going to be difficult. It ended up being surprisingly easy, even if it took an unexpected turn.

It started one night with Denise and Charles studying together at our apartment. I came home late, tired from my residency, but intrigued to see the two of them hunched over books at the kitchen table. Charles was leaning very close to her, his face close to hers, and jerked back when he saw me.

I figured this was the perfect opportunity. Charles had already fucked her while she was unconscious once before. If I drugged her that night and set it up the same he might do it again. Instead of offering them something alcoholic I did the opposite and offered them coffee which they wanted to stay up late studying. When she became tired from the drug she'd think it was just from being up too late.

I made the coffee and dropped the crushed up tablets into Denise's mug. I gave them the coffee and said I'd leave them alone to study. I went into the living room to read, far enough away that Taylor could continue to flirt with her as he probably had and close enough I could intercept him if he tried to leave.

A while later I heard her cell phone ring. Then, she and Charles came into the living room.

"I just got a call from Rebecca," she said. "Taylor gave his defense today and thinks it went really well."

Taylor hadn't focused on clinical work like Denise and Charles and so hadn't been doing the internship programs they had to finish to get their doctorates. A pass on his dissertation meant he'd get his certificate.

"Good for him," I said, knowing there was something more to it.

"She's having a small party at her apartment tonight. Just a few of us to celebrate. At least until it becomes official. We're going to head over there," she said, pointing to Charles.

I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach. The two of them leaving would destroy my plan.

"Are you sure you want to go?" I asked. "You guys still have to prepare for your finals."

"Oh yeah, we got time," Charles said.

It would completely destroy my plan. I rubbed my temples, frustrated and trying to think how I could get them to stay, but knowing I couldn't.

"If you're not feeling well, you don't need to go," she said to me.

She sat down beside me and rubbed my shoulder.

"I know you're working hard," she said. 

I looked at her. She was beautiful. She had grown even more beautiful since I met her. When I met her in college she'd had a body toned by hours of tennis practice. She'd been firm and agile. After college she'd concentrated more on her doctorate degree than athletic pursuits and she'd only become lovelier for it, her body softening some. Where her legs had been mostly muscle now her thighs were smooth and supple. Her breasts were firm as ever but fuller. Her body while still slim was more curvaceous and soft and I found I liked to touch her and hold her even more than I had before. Her hair was as blonde as ever and she'd grown out her bangs and let her hair drift across her shoulders in loose waves. Her eyes were still that penetrating blue that held the attention of anyone to whom she was talking. 

She was wearing a knee-length loose white cotton skirt and I touched her bare knee. I seemed to always want to be in contact with her. Her skin always had that look of a healthy tan that was just her natural tone.

"It's fine," I said, forcing a smile. "I'll come for a bit, but may have to come back to get some sleep."

"We could use a night to decompress anyway," she said.

They had been studying hard. They were at the end of their schooling and internships. They'd all have their licenses soon. I'd still be in my surgical residency for at least another five years.

"It's just across the street," Charles added.

He was mostly right. Rebecca's apartment was across the street but down about a block and the street was more of a highway. You had to be careful crossing even at the crosswalk.

I wondered how much of the coffee Denise had drank and what effect it would have on her. If she drank the whole thing she'd be asleep in an hour. Maybe she'd get tired and I could get Charles to help me bring her back to the apartment. That seemed like a good plan.

"Okay, let's go," I said.

Before leaving I checked her coffee mug and it was empty. I'd have to keep an eye on her and get her back home.

Denise changed her shirt to a short-sleeved loose blue blouse that would be more comfortable in a cramped apartment. She put on her pair of brown calf boots and was ready to go. We walked over to Rebecca's apartment and were greeted by loud music. There were at least a couple of dozen people there already.

"I thought it was going to be a small party?" I yelled to her as we entered the apartment.

"Everyone's stressed and needs to have some fun," she yelled back.

The apartment was really a town house. It was two stories and one of a row of similar looking apartments. It was very narrow so I figured the neighbors would be hearing the music. It was all too loud and crowded for me. It wasn't at all what I'd wanted that night.

Denise and Charles found Taylor and congratulated him. Denise hugged him and he hugged her back tightly. He was a big guy and his arms encircled her easily, but she could barely get her arms around his large chest and back. He'd been a big, heavy guy in the few years I'd known him, but gotten heavier in the past year, probably from working on his degree and being in a relationship. His hands drifted down her back but not too low. I thought of the night I'd watched him and Charles fuck Denise when she was passed out. He'd gone as far as to fuck her in the ass. I caught him looking at her butt from time to time and figured he was probably remembering that.

Rebecca came up and all gave hugs, she and Charles somewhat awkwardly having dated in the past. Rebecca was shorter than Denise and had been shy and restrained when I'd first met her, but opened up in the past couple of years. She showed it in how she looked and dressed. She had long auburn hair that she had pinned back over her ears that night. She had skin almost as pale as Denise's skin was tanned. She was wearing tight jeans, a loose black camisole that showed her flat stomach, and an open denim shirt that was way too big for her and was probably one of Taylor's shirts.

Finally, I congratulated him and shook his hand. I always felt awkward around her school friends. I didn't have any friends of my own. I didn't make friends at the hospital. I had no time to do much after work and didn't want to. I didn't have enough in common with Denise's friends to be friends with them as well. So I tended to just hang around with them and let them talk about things which I didn't care. I stayed by Denise's side as she talked to people and I laughed and nodded at the appropriate times.  

She got excited when Mitch arrived. Mitch had graduated the year before and had joined a thriving practice as a therapist. The two of them had been good friends for the short time they'd known each other and stayed in touch after he graduated. He worked in the city close by so they visited when they had time. 

She hugged him and I actually felt a bit of jealousy as he hugged her back. They had an intimacy between them she didn't have with anyone else. It was probably just friendship but had that feeling it could be something more if they wanted it to be. It didn't hurt that Mitch was a very attractive man. I considered myself to be somewhat attractive but Mitch could be in movies. He was taller than me, broader than me, and obviously spent a lot of time at the gym and focusing on his diet. He wore tight clothes that showed every muscle. His skin was dark brown and he shaved his head bald. He was always smiling and I'd never seen him anything but happy or excited. He was so optimistic he'd be annoying if he wasn't so charismatic. Charisma oozed out of him like an infection. I hated him, but couldn't help liking him.

"I didn't know you'd be here, Mitch," she said as they separated.

"I found the time. I had to see for myself if my boy Taylor actually faced Dr. Turing and survived," he said.

"It was no big deal," Taylor said, pretending to be nonchalant. "He was overwhelmed by my intellect and wit."

"Yeah, you'll have to show that to me some time," Mitch said.

Everyone laughed and then Mitch grabbed Taylor's hand and brought him in for a quick hug.

I wandered away, overwhelmed by the jovial nature Mitch brought with him. I went into the kitchen and found Charles talking to a female student I hadn't seen before. He was definitely flirting with her, leaning in close and talking in that way he always does with women. He was always flirting. I knew if he got far with her than my plan would not happen. I went to find Denise to see how she was doing.

She was with a smaller group of friends drinking a beer. I figured she'd had a couple that night. I hadn't had anything to drink. . I was just waiting for the moment she needed to be helped back home.

The moment took longer than I expected. Maybe it was that I'd put the drug in the coffee and the caffeine countered the drug for a bit or that she hadn't had any alcohol to accelerate her drowsiness. It was over an hour before she started to complain about being sleepy.

"Maybe we should head home," I said, already looking around for Charles.

"No. I want to stay," she said, her voice sounding groggy.

"You can see them all later for the real party," I said.

I led her into the kitchen and saw Charles leaning against the counter talking to two female students, neither the one he'd been talking to earlier. They were laughing at something he'd said and one touched his arm lightly. He wouldn't be coming back to the apartment.

"Dammit," I whispered under my breath.

"What's that?" Denise asked, her voice slurring more.

"Nothing," I said.

It wasn't going to happen. I would just take her home and we'd get some sleep.

"You're tired. It's time to go home," I said.

I grabbed her arm lightly and started leading her towards the door.

"I feel dizzy," she said. "I need to sit down."

She pulled away from me and sat on an empty space on the couch. I knelt down next to her and looked into her face. Her eyes were drooping and her head was nodding forward. The drug was all of a sudden hitting her hard.

"You'll feel better if we get back to our bed," I told her.

I touched her shoulder and shook her lightly.

"I don't feel like moving," she said, her voice just a slur and barely audible.

"Something wrong?" Rebecca asked, suddenly standing behind me.

I stood up.

"Denise is about to pass out," I said, and then added, "I mean she's tired, and maybe had too many drinks."

"I only had a couple," Denise said.

"If you can't get back across the street then she can stay here," Rebecca said. "We have a spare room. I'll just clear out anybody that's in there."

"I'd like to get her home," I said.

I looked around me like I was looking for a solution. The only solution was to get somebody to help me carry her and the thought of carrying her across the highway didn't sound good.

"Don't worry about it. It's not like we don't crash at each other's place when we need to," Rebecca said.

I sighed heavily. I'd messed this one up. 

"Hey, Taylor," Rebecca yelled.

Taylor walked over to us.

"Help carry Denise up to the spare bedroom. I'll go run everyone out," Rebecca said.

"Had too much to drink already?" Taylor asked.

"I think she's just tired," I said.

"I didn't have much to drink," Denise insisted, sounding like a drunk who was protesting too much.

"Yeah, that's why you're about to pass out on my couch," Taylor said.

He bent down first and lifted her up like she was a child and got her to her feet. I stepped and grabbed her from the other side.

"I'm fine," she said.

She tried to pull away but stumbled. Taylor laughed and put his arm around her waist to support her again.

"You're such a light weight now," he said.

"You all right, Denise?" Mitch asked, suddenly appearing at my side.

"I'm fine," she slurred.

"She's passing out," Taylor said. "We're taking her up to bed."

"That's no good, baby girl," Mitch said. "We'll have to catch up next time."

"Next time," she said and her head drooped down.

Taylor mostly carried her upstairs by himself while I tagged along behind. Rebecca was waiting at the spare bedroom door. The room was empty. I tried to help, but Taylor carried her to the bed and lay her down. I then helped her onto the middle of the bed and pulled her skirt down which had bunched up around her thighs. She curled onto her side and closed her eyes.

"She's going right to sleep," Taylor said.

He was right. She didn't say anything. She shifted a few times but was breathing deeply like she was going right to sleep. I stood there watching her and wondering what to do.

"Well, get out of here," Denise said. "Let her sleep."

We left the room. Denise turned off the bedroom light and closed the door behind us. There wasn't anyone else upstairs. There wasn't much up there, just the two bedrooms and a bathroom right at the top of the stairs. 

I started downstairs, thinking about what I should do. I didn't want to stay there. I had nothing in common with the people there and didn't want to be there. I also didn't want to leave my wife there alone. When I got to the bottom of the stairs I decided I would ask to stay the night with her. Then at least I could take care of her if she got sick. 

I looked behind me and realized that Taylor and Rebecca hadn't followed me down. I walked back up the stairs and stopped when I heard them whispering just out sight on the top floor.

"So this is what you were talking about before?" Rebecca asked.

"Yes, kind of like this," Taylor said.

"Kind of like this or exactly like this?" Rebecca asked.

"Yeah, exactly like this. She got tired. She went to bed and basically passed right out," Taylor said.

"And then you and Charles had your way with her and she didn't wake up at all?" Rebecca asked.

"Yeah," Taylor said. "Just like I told you."

I stood there with a hand on the wall listening to them, surprised at what I was hearing. Taylor had told Rebecca about what he and Charles had done and sounded like Rebecca wasn't angry. In fact, she sounded intrigued.




Perversions and Transgressions Ch. 08



"So you think she's going to be out like that again this time?" she asked him.

"I don't know," he whispered. "Looks like it, but can't know for sure."

Then they stopped talking. I quietly made my way back down the stairs. I went to the kitchen to get a glass of water and think about what I had just heard.

I would think that Rebecca would be angry or disgusted to know what Taylor had done to Denise with Charles, but she had obviously hadn't been. I could see her questioning Taylor about it jealously to find out if he would try it again that night. But if she was afraid of Taylor trying again then she wouldn't have so easily offered to have Denise stay. There was something more going on.

I think that Rebecca was actually excited about what Charles and Taylor had done and wanted to know if this was the state Denise had been in. She could be asking just to know. She could also be asking because she wanted to test it out herself. I perked up at that thought. What if Rebecca was actually turned on by the thought of Taylor taking Denise like that and wanted him to do it again that night? What if she wanted to participate somehow?

I decided that I'd have to find out what, if anything, was going to happen. I waited in the kitchen for them to appear, figuring that if they were going to do anything they'd have to feel me out first. I was right and they came into the kitchen a short time later.

"How are you doing?" Taylor asked me.

"I'm fine," I said. "Getting tired myself."

Taylor looked at Rebecca.

"If you want to head home Denise will be fine here," Rebecca said. "We'll get her up in the morning and back home."

"I'd appreciate it," I said and smiled. "I have an early shift tomorrow and need to get some rest."

"I'll bet," Taylor said and laughed nervously.

I looked at him with blank eyes and then put my empty glass in the sink.

"I'm going to head home then," I said.

"I'll walk you out," Taylor said.

"Don't worry about," I said. "I know the way. You guys enjoy your night."

I walked out of the kitchen before he could answer and into the living room. I hurried through the living room and looked over my shoulder as I reached the front door. They hadn't come out of the kitchen. I turned and hurried up the stairs. I passed someone coming down from the bathroom. There was no one up there waiting. I slipped into the spare bedroom before anyone could come upstairs. 

Denise was lying exactly as when I left. I walked over to her and she was breathing deeply, fast asleep, unconscious. The bedroom had a closet with bi-fold doors. I went into the closet and left the door open enough so I could see the bedroom. I pushed some hanging clothes into the opening and sat down against the wall so I could peer through the opening but move back if I needed to. I'd be caught if anyone opened the doors since there was nowhere to hide, but then anyone looking in the closet would probably be doing something they shouldn't be doing anyway.

I had to wait for a while. I heard people going up and down the stairs to use the bathroom. I heard the toilet flushing. I heard music and laughter from downstairs. It all calmed down pretty quickly. Most of the people there still had papers to write or internships to work the next day. 

As it became quieter I could hear Denise breathing deeply in her sleep. I could see her lying on the bed by some light coming through the curtained windows but not well. I wondered if I should get up to open the curtains when the door suddenly opened.

Light poured into the room and ran across the bed and Denise's sleeping form. A shadow appeared in the light as someone came into the room.

"Is she sleeping?" Rebecca asked from outside of the room.

I saw Taylor walk into view.

"Looks like it," he said. "She's barely moved since we put her to bed."

"Well, make sure she's all right," Rebecca said.

Taylor sat down on the edge of the bed. Denise's body shifted towards him slightly but it didn't interrupt her heavy breathing. From the light coming through the open door I saw him look down at her face and brush her hair to the side.

"She looks fine to me," he said, his voice louder.

"Well come out of there and let's get the last of them out of here," Rebecca said.

Taylor stood up, still looking at Denise, turned away, and left the room, closing the door quietly.

As the room settled into darkness again and I listened to them descend the stairs I felt that excitement building in me that I hadn't felt in years, that electric tension that squirmed through and across my body. Partly it was that anticipation of that thing that I craved and wanted about to happen and also not knowing exactly what would happen. It wasn't just that I thought and hoped I was about to see my wife Denise taken by another man but that he was going to use her to satisfy his own desires. Just thinking about it made my stomach tighten and I leaned against the wall shivering with excitement.

I don't think it took long for them to come back, but seemed like hours with nothing to do but sit in that closet waiting, listening for any noise outside the room, hearing every footstep on the stairs, wondering if they would finally come into the room. At one point the apartment became very quiet. I didn't hear anyone use the stairs for a while. I started to wonder if they had just gone to bed, but I hadn't heard anyone come up the stairs. I wondered what was taking so long. Everybody would have had to have left, though maybe some people like Mitch would hang around longer. I just didn't know from inside the closet and could only wait.

Then, I did hear footsteps on the stairs and there was more than one person. I was sitting on the floor in a corner of the closet and leaned back, barely able to see into the room. I heard the footsteps reach the top of the stairs and the bathroom door close. Maybe it was just another guest using the bathroom. Then the door to the bedroom opened letting in a shaft of light. I leaned forward to see the shadow of someone in that light. The person walked into the room and it was Rebecca.

She watched Denise intently as she walked up to the side of the bed. I could see Rebecca's face clearly with her hair pinned back and her eyes were wide as she looked down at Denise and she was softly biting her lower lip. Denise was on her side facing her and Rebecca reached out a hand and brushed some hair from Denise's face, letting her fingertips glide softly over her cheek and ear. She stroked her face with the back of her fingers and lightly ran them through her hair, letting strands fall back softly onto her shoulders.

"So beautiful," Rebecca said softly.

She knelt down on the floor and leaned forward so her face was only inches from Denise's sleeping face. She laid the palm of her hand on Denise's cheek and looked at her adoringly.

"I wanted to be like you when we first met," Rebecca said quietly. "I was almost obsessed with you." She smiled, her eyes moving over Denise's face. "I knew Charles would leave me for you in an instant but I wasn't jealous. I'd have left him for you too. But you didn't see me that way." She traced her thumb over Denise's lips, biting her own lip again. "I guess you just didn't like girls so I kept it to myself. I'd been attracted to girls before, but not like you." She sighed deeply and pressed her thumb between Denise's lips. "No, not like you." She slid her thumb across Denise's lips and then moved her hand behind Denise's head into her long blonde hair. "I figured I'd never have you. Guess I was wrong." 

Then, she leaned forward and kissed her. She kissed her softly at first, her eyes open, their lips just touching, and then she titled her head and pressed her lips to Denise's harder. She pulled Denise's head towards her with her hand behind her head and opened her lips, forcing Denise's lips open too. She kissed her with an urgency that built quickly from a soft touch to a consuming desperation. I heard her breathing harshly through her nose and her body began to rise and fall with some erotic rhythm as she moved further onto the bed, pushing Denise onto her back with just the pressure of the kiss.

I was enraptured watching all of it unfold. I'd had no idea that Rebecca had been so attracted to Denise. Perhaps I'd just never thought to look for it. The obvious attraction the men around her had towards her took my focus away from the possibility that women might as well. But Rebecca wasn't just attracted to Denise it seemed she had an infatuation for the past few years. Watching it find a release, watching Rebecca get that need fulfilled, gave me that stirring in my crotch. It wasn't just two women kissing. It was the naked lust that Rebecca had and was finally letting loose.

I had been so engrossed in watching them I hadn't noticed Taylor enter the room.

"That is really hot," he said from the doorway.

He must have been the one to use the bathroom and afterwards had come to the room and watched. I don't know how much he had seen and heard. He'd pushed the door open all the way so the room was more brightly lit and I hadn't even noticed.

Rebecca pulled away and stood up, pulling her gaze from Denise to Taylor.

"I'm glad you enjoy it," she said, somewhat sarcastically.

Taylor walked towards the bed and looked down at Denise.

"So she's definitely passed out?" he asked.

"She seems to be," Rebecca said with a deep sigh. She crossed her arms like she'd had a sudden chill.

"Did you make sure before you started making out with her?" he asked.

"I didn't really think to," Rebecca said.

Taylor bent over Denise and looked into her sleeping face.

"She's breathing really deep like she's out," he said.

He grabbed her shoulders and shook her lightly. Her head moved back and forth. When he stopped she flopped onto her back, her arms spread to her sides. She made no noise and just kept breathing deeply.

"Move," Rebecca said and pushed Taylor to the side.

She looked down at Denise.

"Denise," she yelled, so loud I actually jumped and thumped against the wall. 

"Hey Denise! Wake up!" she yelled again.

I watched them, wondering if they'd heard the noise I'd made, but they were both just watching Denise.

"Hey, are you all right?!" she yelled even louder like she was concerned that her friend had drunk too much.

Denise didn't respond or make any noise. Rebecca laid her palm on Denise's cheek again and looked into her closed eyes. Then, suddenly she pulled her hand back a few inches and smacked Denise on the cheek. It wasn't a hard slap; it barely made Denise's head move, but it sounded loud in the quiet room. Denise didn't respond to it.

"Damn, babe, you're gonna wake her up doing that," Taylor said.

Rebecca stroked the cheek she had just smacked and then stood up, watching Denise intently.

"I don't think she's waking up," she said.

"It's like before," he said.

"So she was like this then? Passed out and unresponsive?" she asked.

"Yeah. Nothing would wake her, but she didn't have any trouble breathing and seemed fine otherwise," he said.

"Like she's been drugged," she said.

I felt a chill pass over me and unconsciously crept back further into the closet.

"Drugged?" he said. "She's just been drinking and she's tired. Some people just sleep really deeply."

"Yeah," she said, her voice drifting off.

I felt that twinge like I had been caught again, that she knew what I had done, but that couldn't be true. How could she know?

"Anyway, I'm going to go get some stuff. You can do whatever you want," she said.

She turned and left the room. Taylor watched her go and then looked back at Denise. He stood over the side of the bed, grabbed her chin, and turned her face to the side to see the cheek that Rebecca had smacked. From where I was standing in the closet I could see there was no mark, that her cheek wasn't even slightly red.

"I didn't think I'd ever get a second chance with you," he said quietly, probably so that Rebecca wouldn't hear him. "I thought my dream had come true before." He touched her neck lightly, tilting her head up, so the light shone on her face. "They had actually. I'd wanted to fuck you since I met you." He got onto the bed on his knees by her side. "And you were the best fuck I ever had." He looked towards the doorway, probably making sure that Rebecca wasn't there. "And this time will be even better."

A shiver passed over my body and I clenched my teeth. There is that initial anticipation, wondering if the person will take her, then there is that moment when I know for sure that the person is going to definitely take her. I can feel the desire of that person to have her, mixed with my own to watch her being used. The feeling is almost overwhelming. 

I swallowed hard and tried to maintain some control over myself. I felt like I was breathing too heavily. I checked where I was standing in the closet to make sure I was still hidden in the dark. I couldn't let the intensity of the situation make me vulnerable to getting caught.

Even as I tried to make sure I was concealed I could feel my penis getting hard and pushing against my pants uncomfortably. I had to change its position so it lay up pressed against my waist. I ran my fingers down along it through my pants, down the sensitive length underneath, and I shivered again.

Taylor was unbuttoning her blouse, his fingers deftly moving to each button until he opened it, exposing her bare stomach and bra. He laid his hands on her firm stomach and slid them up to cup her breasts through her bra. Then, he dipped down and kissed her stomach quickly, licking her belly button, before sitting back up, his hands still on her breasts.

He then placed one hand on her back and lift her up so he could remove her blouse with his other hand, slipping it down her limp arms, and then tossing the blouse on the floor. He held her against him and used both hands to unhook her bra and got it off and onto the floor quickly.

He laid her back on the bed topless and stared down at her. He grabbed her breasts, not filling his large hands, but still bigger than last time he'd seen and felt them. He massaged her breasts roughly, digging his fingers into the flesh, pressing them together, pulling on them so her nipples stuck up sharply. He released them to slide his hands down her sides, over the curve of her waist to her hips and her skirt and then over flat stomach and back to her breasts, and then back down again, around and around over her breasts, her stomach, her sides, groaning softly to himself, building his excitement.

I was grasping my erection through my pants, just holding it, feeling harder than I'd been in a long time, so hard that it hurt especially trapped inside of clothing. I started to fumble with my zipper to let it out when Rebecca came back into the room, grabbing my attention.

She was entirely naked and far lovelier than I had thought. When she walked from the doorway to the bed I watched her butt and thighs flex. Her legs were long, her thighs rounding out smoothly to her butt. Her breasts were large and full, swaying slightly as she walked. She'd let her hair down to hang down to her back. I had been with only Denise for so long I had seen very few naked women, but Rebecca was the most beautiful and sexy I'd seen besides Denise. Whereas Denise would be described as athletic, Rebecca would be voluptuous. Not different in their beauty, just both beautiful in their own bodies. Rebecca moved across that room nude like she was entirely comfortable in her skin, more comfortable than I'd ever seen her before. 

I had been so stunned by her nudity I hadn't noticed she had been carrying some things in her hands and couldn't tell what they were when she set them on the far night stand.

"Couldn't wait for me, huh?" Rebecca asked.

Taylor looked at her, seeming stunned by her at first, stunned by her unabashed nakedness.

"I was just making her more comfortable," he said, his hands resting on Denise's breasts.

"I can see that," she said.

Rebecca moved to the foot of the bed and climbed onto it on all fours. The light from the hallway shone on her raised ass as she crawled forward slowly between Denise's feet. She placed her hands on Denise's thighs and pushed them wider so she could prowl further up the bed and then knelt back on her feet, her hands moving up and down Denise's bare thighs.

Taylor had moved back to watch Rebecca get on the bed, his back to the headboard, but still had one hand on one of Denise's breasts and was alternately squeezing it and letting it go. His other hand was rubbing at the crotch of his pants.

Rebecca looked down at Denise, her eyes moving over her passive body. She seemed calm and excited at the same time like she was thinking about what she wanted to do but had so many ideas she didn't know where to start. For the moment she was content just looking and caressing Denise's thighs, her hands moving up and down, pushing her skirt up revealing her white panties. 

"I think she's even more beautiful like this," Rebecca said softly.

Taylor didn't respond, just smiled.

I could feel a tension between them as they were building themselves up to do something they wanted but weren't sure how to start. There are moments in your life when you have to stop planning and just act, go with your impulses. This was one of those moments and they just needed to slip into that frame of mind. They would. I had seen it before. The reticence would pass and the desire would take over. The body would know what it wanted and the mind would take it there. But the moment hung for a while as they both sat there, each touching Denise in their own way, looking at her, waiting for something.

Then, slowly Rebecca grabbed Denise's white skirt at the waist, and started pulling it down her legs. She moved down the bed, letting Denise's legs close until the skirt was off and she dropped it on the floor. She was standing at the foot of the bed and looking at Denise clad only in her white panties and the calf boots. 

Still, slowly, like she was relishing the movements and touches, she picked up Denise's left foot, unzipped the boot, pulled it off, and laid it on the floor. She did the same with the other boot. Taylor just watched her, his hand moving over Denise's breasts lightly, not being as rough, more intrigued by Rebecca, and still rubbing his erection through his pants.

She got back up on the bed, straddling Denise's closed legs and lightly grabbed the sides of Denise's panties. Carefully she moved them down over her butt and then painfully erotically slowly pulled them down her legs like she was caressing her legs with the underwear. Once she finally got the panties off she held them in her hand and she stood still for a moment and I thought she might smell them, but she just held them in her hands, kneading them, as she looked down at Denise now entirely naked.

That moment continued to hold as Rebecca looked at Denise, naked and helpless. She didn't seem to be considering what to do. She was just taking in the sight of Denise. I couldn't blame her. Denise looked gorgeous. The light streaming from the hallway made her tanned skin seem almost golden. Her blonde hair lay tousled on the bed about her head, brushed away from her face, framing her face. Her body was limp and yielding. Her chest rose and fell rhythmically, hypnotically. 

A person's body lies differently on a bed when they're unconscious as opposed to conscious. No matter how much a conscious person tries they can never go entirely limp. There's always a tension to their body, some sort of resistance. There's a beauty in that. But the beauty of someone who is unconscious is in the lack of that tension, their body yielding, and their mind calm. There's a tenderness but also that defenselessness that brings out the aggression in those that want to use that person's body. I think that Rebecca was feeling that at that moment. I don't think Taylor quite understood though maybe he felt it in part. But as Rebecca stood there, admiring Denise, softly kneading the panties in her hand, I think she understood.




Perversions and Transgressions Ch. 08



The moment broke when she let the underwear drop for her hand. Before the underwear hit the floor she was crawling onto the bed. She straddled Denise's legs and moved up her body until she was looking down into her face, and in one continuous movement dipped down to kiss her hard on the lips. Her elbows bent and she looked almost liked a spider, her body hovering over Denise's prone body, her back curved down slightly, kissing Denise lightly then harder, opening her mouth, her dark hair dangling about their faces.

I could feel her hunger in my hiding place in the closet, rippling across my skin. My penis was hard, pressed tightly inside my pants. I slowly and quietly opened my zipper and pulled it from the constrictions of underwear and pants. I touched it once lightly then placed my hands on the wall, feeling lightheaded like I had to keep my balance from the excitement that Rebecca was generating in the room.

Taylor had done the same as me, but was stroking his erection, as big as I remember it from last time. He kept licking his lips and making light groaning noises as he watched Rebecca kiss Denise. I could hear the kisses getting more wet and sloppy, with longer pauses between Rebecca's deep breaths as she pulled away between each deep kiss to breathe and clasped her mouth to Denise's lips again.

Then, suddenly she sat up, throwing her hair back over her shoulders so it hung down her back and sat back on Denise's pelvis. She sat erect, breathing heavy, her breasts firm and nipples hard, her flat stomach curving down to her broad hips. Perched on top of Denise she looked more erotic than any other woman I've seen other than Denise. She was gorgeous. 

She ran her fingers lightly over Denise's bare stomach as she looked down at her, her tongue running across her lips, still tasting Denise on them.

"You brought some of your toys," Taylor suddenly said, his voice soft but sounding loud in a room that seemed only made for the sounds of sex.

"Yes," she replied.

Her fingers continued moving over Denise's stomach, back and forth, her stomach rising and falling with those sleeping breaths. 

"But first I need to taste her," she said.

Then, so much slower than she climbed on top of Denise she moved back again, nudging her knees between Denise's legs, and then pushing them apart with her hands as she knelt between them at the foot of the bed. She spread Denise's legs wide, pushing at the back of her knees, and crouched down, her butt in the air, almost turned towards me. She had a firm, round butt, not as tight as Denise, but gloriously round and full. 

Rebecca slid her hands down Denise's spread thighs and until they met near her pussy. Then, she ran one thumb up between her labia softly, spreading them apart. Her head was lowered to the bed, peering closely at Denise's pussy, as she slowly spread it open. Her ass swayed slowly in the air, her feet at the edge of the bed.

She used her other thumb and spread Denise's pussy lips apart then after a moments longing hesitation licked up from her opening to her clit, flicking her clit, and then moaning.

"So good, baby," she said.

Then, she dove back in, licking the edges this time, concentrating on just the labia, letting her thumbs pull them back a bit or rub them softly, moving across Denise's clit only to get to the other side of her pussy, sucking the folds between her lips lightly. 

I moved closer to the wall and felt my stiff erection nudge against it. I was so hard I felt I could pound a hole through the wall just them. Rebecca was devouring Denise's pussy in a way she'd probably dreamed, her ass in the air shaking back and forth, her own pussy now glistening with moisture. 

Taylor pulled his shirt off and pushed his pants and underwear down his legs. His stomach was even larger than before but his cock still stood out long and thick beneath it. He touched his erection lightly as he moved to the foot of the bed to see between Denise's legs better.

Rebecca moved in a bit closer, tilted her head back, and started licking and sucking Denise's pussy, no longer satisfied at the edges, but thrusting her tongue inside her, licking up and down. Her nose was pressed to Denise's groin and she breathed hard in and out, pulling back to lick over her clit, breathe in deep and dive in again.

Then, Taylor was behind her, his hands on her upper thighs. She spread her legs apart some at his urging, her knees sliding across the bed. He knelt down on one knee and started licking her pussy. She moaned as soon as his tongue touched her and in response pressed her own tongue deeper into Denise. 

Taylor pressed his hands into Rebecca's thighs pulling her towards him as she stretched up to lick Denise, his tongue pushing into her then searching below for her clit. Rebecca slid her hands up Denise's passive body, over her stomach, and gripped her breasts, squeezing them so the nipples stuck up sharp and hard. Then she released them and rolled the nipples with her fingertips and palms.

Rebecca cried out softly as Taylor's tongue started flicking over her clitoris again and again, his head tilted up between her legs. She pulled away from Denise for a moment, dwelling in that feeling that Taylor gave her then began sucking on Denise's clit as well. Her hands moved over Denise's breasts, grabbing and pinching. Denise's chest rose and fell. The skin of her chest was going red from excitement and Rebecca's fondling.

I could feel the excitement growing higher in the room, Rebecca and Taylor becoming more aggressive. I was surprised that Rebecca was being so reckless. Typically people would make sure over and over again that Denise stayed passed out. Rebecca seemed to be too caught up in it to care.

Then, Taylor stood up and grabbed Rebecca's hips, pulling her towards the edge of the bed and the tip of his dick. Rebecca looked back over her shoulder at him, flipping her hair across her back.

"If you're going to fuck me, then get me something that I can use to fuck her," she said.

Taylor groaned, poking the head of his cock at her pussy, but she pulled away playfully.

"It's right there on the night stand," she said.

He reluctantly walked over to the night stand his erection looking painfully hard shaking in front of him as of leading the way.

He took something from the night stand. I saw some other things there too but couldn't see well enough across the room. I had to hide back in the closet as Taylor walked back to the foot of the bed. 

I looked around the corner to see him hand her a dildo. It was shaped like a real dick with a head and veins; it was about the size of my own erection, smaller than Taylor's. 

She took it from him and immediately lowered her mouth back to Denise's pussy to lick and suck it greedily. Taylor positioned himself behind her, grabbing her hips again. With one hand he parted her labia and she was so wet the head of his cock slid right into her. Rebecca groaned and pulled away from Denise to look back at him as he pushed into her deeper.

Then, she turned back around and leaning on her elbows, her ass in the air as Taylor moved back and forth, sinking his cock into her, she slid the dildo all the way into Denise in a fluid motion. The toy wasn't big but I was surprised to see it go into her so easily. She must have been very wet, so wet that I touched my erection thinking about how it would feel to be inside of her like that, her pussy so open and inviting and slick.

Rebecca gripped the flared base of the dildo and began moving it in and out of Denise's pussy. I could hear the wet clinging noise easily as it slid back and forth, the head of the toy barely parting Denise's lips before Rebecca slid it back in. 

Taylor had worked his cock into Rebecca's pussy and his stomach and hips were pressed against her butt. He was holding still as he watched her fuck Denise with the toy. He was probably close to coming watching Rebecca fuck Denise's yielding pussy. 

Rebecca dropped down to one elbow, her face close to Denise's pussy and started kissing around it and sucking on her labia as much as she could as she continued to move the dildo in and out in a slow deep stroke, tilting it up slightly as she pushed it in, its curve stroking up inside of Denise. Rebecca's butt was perched in the air, her back curved down, and Taylor grabbed her butt cheeks in his hands, squeezed, and eased his cock out of her slowly, then slammed it into her hard, shoving her forward and making her squeal, muffled with her mouth pressed to Denise's groin. 

He started fucking her in hard deep strokes, faster than she was fucking Denise, and definitely deeper since his cock was longer than the toy. Rebecca took it, moaning deep in her throat as she sucked and licked, slipping the toy out to suck on Denise's clit again, lapping it hungrily.

Denise lie still on the bed, her chest rising and falling heavier than a deep sleep and the deepening red of the skin on her chest and face the only signs of arousal in her sleep. I was stroking my cock lightly, feeling it jump in my fingers as I touched it, overwhelmed by what I was watching, my eyes moving from Denise prone on the bed, her body moving as the bed rocked from Taylor's thrusting, to Rebecca sliding the dildo back in and fucking Denise harder and deeper, pressing the dildo entirely inside of her so the base was pressed tightly to her pussy, to Taylor fucking Rebecca who in turn looked from Rebecca fucking Denise to his own cock sliding in and out of Rebecca. 

It continued like that, the pounding and grunting, the squeaking bed, until Taylor got tired, standing at the edge of the bed and held still, his cock still engorged and deep inside of Rebecca. She twisted her butt in circles, churning him inside of her. He groaned and slapped her butt with both hands. She yelped and looked back at him.

"Getting tired?" she asked, a wicked grin on her lips.

"Tired and about to come but I don't want to come yet," he said.

"You want to come in her," she said.

He nodded and groaned as Rebecca shifted her hips again.

"Well I want to fuck her first," she said.

She moved forward, Taylor's slick cock slipping out of her, and crawled off the bed to the nightstand. Taylor walked to the other side of the bed and sat down. His skin was glistening with sweat and he was breathing hard, but his cock still stood out hard and long. He leaned over Denise and held one of her breasts in his hand. He squeezed it softly, feeling its weight and firmness.

"Her tits are kind of small," Rebecca said.

Rebecca's breasts were not small. She was at least a D-cup.

"Yeah, but nice and firm," Taylor said.

"More than these," Rebecca said.

She shook her breasts and they rocked back and forth, swaying erotically. 

"Just different," Taylor said. "Can't really fuck hers like I can yours."

Rebecca laughed softly. She took something from the night stand and pressed the dildo into it. As she started putting the thing around her waist I realized she was going to use a strap-on with the dildo. She was going to fuck Denise with a strap-on.

That was something I had never thought would happen or even planned. I'd always tried to get men to take her. It had never occurred to me that a woman might take her just the same. It turned me on. The surprises always did turn me on. And that was a big surprise.

Taylor let go of Denise's breast and grabbed her hand, He wrapped her hand around his erection and began moving it up and down, making her stroke him as she lay there limp.

There were more straps than I expected for Rebecca to wrap around her thighs, waist, and groin, tightening them to get it to fit right. I wondered why she even had it. Did she have sex with women often? Did she use it on Taylor? Did he use it on her? I didn't know and figured it didn't really matter.

Once she had done the last strap she turned to the side. The dildo stuck out just like a cock. She gripped the base of it and titled it up further. 

"Some cock, eh?" she asked.

"It works," he said.

Rebecca got back up on the bed and between Denise's thighs. I felt that old familiar tension again, but it was a bit different this time. In the past it was a man about to penetrate her with his dick, to take his pleasure from her. Now a woman with a strap-on was about to use her. Why was it different than when she used it with her hand? I don't know. It felt different. I held my cock tightly on my hand and my other hand grasped the door jamb as I watched, barely breathing. My body was tense with anticipation. I just wanted to see that fake cock go into Denise. I needed to see how Rebecca would use it and what she would do.

The room was quiet as Taylor and I both didn't move, him holding Denise's hand on his rigid cock, me holding my own, as we watched Rebecca position herself between Denise's legs. She caressed Denise's thighs as she pushed them wider.

"She has such great legs," she sighed, more to herself than to Taylor.

She slid her hands up and down Denise's firm thighs, from knee to her waist, inner and outer thighs, luxuriating in the touch of the smooth, warm skin.

"She has no idea what it does to me when she wears those skirts," she said.

Then, she slid her hands under Denise's knees and grasped her thighs, lifting her legs up and tilting Denise's hips towards the dildo. Rebecca spread her knees around Denise's butt as she lowered her hips down and leaned forward. She let go of one leg to grab the dildo and planted the other hand on the bed, Denise's leg hooked around her arm.

I realized I was biting my lower lip but kept biting it, afraid I'd make some noise as I watched. The skin on my arms was writhing and I'm sure the hairs were standing on end. My heart was pounding from the arousal. I wasn't stroking my dick but it was as hard as it ever got in my loose grip.

Rebecca led the head of the dildo inside of Denise's wet pussy and it slid right in. She shifted her hips again, leaned forward, holding the base of the dildo in her hand, and fed it into Denise entirely until their hips met.

"Oh yeah, baby," Rebecca sighed.

I wondered what she was feeling. Was the harness providing some clitoral stimulation? Was the act itself arousing enough? The expression on her face, the sound of her voice, the trembling of her body, all were similar to a man when he first entered Denise as she was passed out. Maybe it was just a feeling of penetrating that yielding passive body, of taking her, of wanting her and using her.

Rebecca held onto the base of the dildo and began moving her hips back and forth, up and down, Denise's hips tilted up slightly so she was thrusting down and forward into her then pulling up and back almost the entire length of the dildo, her hand holding it so it wouldn't fall out, then plunging back in. She took it slow at first, working the dildo in and out of Denise's willing pussy. 

Taylor had sat up to watch better, laying on his side, leaning towards Denise, and moving her hand up and down his erection again, slowly, just enough to keep him hard. He was mostly transfixed on Rebecca fucking Denise as was I. 

Rebecca stopped as she sat back on her heels and squirmed as close as she could to Denise, her legs spread wide around Denise's butt, and pushed the dildo inside of her, Then, she held Denise's legs in her arms, letting her feet dangle behind her and began pumping her hips rhythmically. She pushed the dildo in and out of Denise, not going in quite all the way and not letting the head come out, just fucking her.

Taylor groaned and sat up. He moved on his knees towards Rebecca, grabbed the back of her head, and pulled her in for a deep kiss. They kissed hard as Rebecca kept thrusting. He pulled away to look down at the dildo penetrating Denise then kissed Rebecca again. Rebecca broke the kiss and looked into his eyes.

"Go get a blow job for a bit," she said and smiled.

He didn't reply just grinned back and moved to the head of the bed. He knelt beside Denise's head. Her body was being pushed back and forth by Rebecca's thrusting and her head had turned to the side to face him. He leaned over her face, putting his hands on the other side of her so he his body was tilted up over her head. Then, he just pushed his hard dick into her open waiting mouth. He started fucking her mouth carefully not pushing his thick long dick in too far, but enough to probably feel her tongue and the back of her mouth, maybe even her teeth. 

Rebecca leaned forward some, putting her hands on the bed so that Denise's legs hung from her arms, and started really fucking her. I could see the dildo sliding in and out of Denise's sopping wet pussy from between their legs. I could just see the dildo emerging, her pussy stretched around it, and then see it plunge back in.. 

"Unhhh... unhhh... unhhh...," Rebecca started to grunt each time she shoved into her.

Taylor was still taking it easy, not wanting to make Denise choke on his cock or not wanting to come, his attention mostly on Rebecca fucking Denise. His body was trembling from holding himself up. His butt flexed tightly as he just barely moved his cock in her mouth, enough to feel her, but not enough to go to deep. He was probably on the edge of coming and trying to hold off.

I had started stroking my dick without realizing it and was close to coming myself. I let go of my erection and pressed my body, and the length of my cock, against the wall, and peered around the door jam, my hand grasping it tightly. The excitement was buzzing in my head and my cock simultaneously, rhythmically. 

Once the dildo slipped out of Denise and Rebecca had to shift back on her knees and reach down to push it back into her. It slid in so easily I almost groaned aloud but clamped my lips together, still feeling the low rumbling in my chest and throat. 

Rebecca started to really plow her then. She started fucking Denise hard. She had Denise's legs hooked over her arms and was leaning over her. She started moving her hips up and down fast and hard, shoving the dildo deep into Denise. The bed started squeak with her thrusts as Denise's body was pushed down into the mattress then relaxed back up, taking the penetration of the dildo deep inside of her.

Taylor sat up, his cock slipping from Denise's mouth, and sat back to watch Rebecca. He started stroking his slick erection slowly as he watched.

Denise's body was rocking back and forth lazily with the Rebecca's hard fucking. Her face was serene, her mouth open and lips wet from Taylor using her mouth. Her breasts swayed and feet shook. Her body was at the mercy of Rebecca's relentless thrusting.

I ground my erection against the closet wall, my eyes moving from Denise's face, staring in wonder at how she showed no reaction to the penetration of her body, and then to Rebecca who was pumping away, propped up on her arms, her butt clenching as she shoved the dildo deep into Denise.

"I'm gonna come," Rebecca panted.

She twisted her hips and I knew the harness must be rubbing her clit as she moved, probably designed to do just that. She sped up for a bit, turning her hips up with each shove into Denise, getting extra stimulation on her clitoris. She looked so much like a guy close to his orgasm as she lost rhythm and pushed in harder and deeper, and then finally with a deep groan shoved in hard and shook in place, the dildo deep inside of Denise, then ground her hips, rubbing her clit over and over, riding out the orgasm.

Her orgasm was longer than a guy's. When a guy cumming inside of Denise would have collapsed on top of her already, Rebecca kept grinding, riding her orgasm. She moaned loudly, panting "yes yes yes" over and over. Her body shook as she held herself up.

Taylor watched her in fascination, stroking his stiff erection harder. I did the same, reaching between the wall and my body to stroke it, so close to unloading my jizz directly on the wall, but holding back, my jaw clenched.




Perversions and Transgressions



I nudged the door open slowly and silently, peeking my head around the doorframe and saw them lying on the pillows. Denise was still laying flat on her back. Thomas was laying on his side, his body pressed against her. His hand was sliding up her shirt, pushing it up. He was leaning towards her, kissing her ear and neck. I watched him as he said her name several times, his lips at her ear, his hand slowly moving further up under her sweater.

The anger and anxiety slipped away completely to be replaced with a confusing mix of lust and excitement. I saw that Denise's eyes were closed. Her body was perfectly still except for the rising of her chest as she breathed. She was passed out. She wasn't cheating on me. She didn't know. And I was turned on by that.

I never thought that I would enjoy seeing Denise with another man. The thought of her wrapping her legs around another man and taking him inside of her angered and repulsed me, left me with a feeling like a large stone in my gut. I could never stand to see her willingly give herself to another man. I wanted to be the only one she gave herself to. But this was different. This was like seeing something new. I think that I enjoyed it so much because I got to see her during sex like I never did before, got to see her body, that beautiful body, being penetrated, but didn't have to suffer the anguish of her giving herself to another. I was a voyeur watching the woman I love being taken as I couldn't see it when I was with her.

At the time there were very few thoughts in my head. I thought that I should do something to stop it, but was so amazed, so excited, that I did nothing. Initially it was shock and curiosity, wanting to see what he would do, a voyeuristic thrill.

I watched as his hand slid under her sweater and I could see his hand was squeezing her breast. He said her name louder in her ear and shook her body, rubbing his body against her. Her head flopped back and forth, but she didn't wake.

He lifted his head from her ear and kissed her lips, kissed her hard, pushing her mouth open with his mouth. I could see his tongue plunging into her mouth and his hand clutching and squeezing her breast under her sweater. He threw a leg over her legs and began rubbing himself against her legs. 

I could almost feel the arousal in the air. The hairs on my body stood on end as if an electric current writhed over my body. I gripped the doorframe and leaned forward.

He lifted his head and kissed her lips again and looked down into her eyes and said her name once again. When she didn't react, he pushed himself up on his elbow. He slid his hand out from under her sweater. He grabbed the bottom of her sweater and pulled it up, working his hands around it, lifting it up until her bra was exposed, her sweater crumpled up over her chest. He pulled down the cups of her bra and moaned when he saw that her nipples were hard.

I bit my lip, wondering if she could feel him even in her sleep, if she was getting turned on by it or if her body just naturally reacted. I felt ashamed of myself for watching, for doing nothing, but curiosity and exhilaration kept me immobile, waiting to see what would happen next.

He leaned over her and with his hand pulling her bra down he sucked on her nipple. He slid his tongue over the nipple, tasting it and kissing it, his hand sliding over the bra to cup her breast underneath, pushing it up into his mouth. His body moved over her further as he ground his crotch into her.

He moved over her prostrate body until he was straddling her hips, hovering over her. I thought I could hear his breath. He seemed to be panting, his excitement building while he tried to remain calm. I could feel his desire to just take her, could feel that he was holding himself back, not wanting to wake her and wanting to enjoy it. I could imagine he knew this was a rare moment, to have her lying like that underneath him, her body open to him, and he was thinking what he could do with her, not actually what he could do with her, but what he could do with her body, because she was no longer a person, no longer my girlfriend, no longer the friend, tennis athlete, and student he knew, she was just that body beneath him, that sexy, firm, and beautiful body, and he wanted to relish it, but his own hormones were pushing him on, and I, knowing he was a sensualist, knew he wanted to enjoy it, but at the same time knew he was holding himself back, and I could feel his tension, as he wondered what he could do to her and how.

He slowly moved down her body, his eyes looking up at her face, his chin almost touching her, and then he placed his hands on her bare sides and lowered his lips to her stomach, that flat, tight stomach that I had kissed so many times before, licking the sweat from her belly button and feeling her stomach tighten when the touch of my tongue tickled her, her hands grabbing my hair, but she didn't move as he licked her stomach. He wrapped his hands around her sides, moving them up and down, feeling the curve of her waist and hips. He moved up her body slowly, his body shaking as he held himself over her, his hands sliding up her side and to her chest. He grabbed her arms and pushed them over her head, leaving her upper body defenseless. His tongue slid over one nipple, his breath ragged, watching her, watching her for any sign of waking, but her head was tilted to the side, facing me, her eyes closed, her breath deep and soft. Then, he pulled her breast into his mouth and began sucking it, while he massaged her other breast and moved his other hand up and down her side. His body shuddered as he tried to hold himself over her and he moved to her other breast and kissed the nipple. I could see the shimmering wetness of his saliva on her breasts, see the skin was blushed a light red. He moaned softly as he kissed around her breast, licking her nipple, plucking it between his fingers, and her nipples became hard.

He sat up, straddling her hips and looked down at her, ran his hands over her stomach and breasts, enjoying the smoothness of her skin, the warmth, the feel of her body compliant beneath him. I could see his chest shuddering as he tried to control his breathing, saw him lick his lips, like he was waiting, making a final decision, knowing he could still turn back, straighten her bra, pull her shirt down, and leave, leave her there untouched, and perhaps for a moment he saw her as the woman he was talking to earlier, flirting with her, whether she flirted back or not, enjoying just talking to her, enjoying just being around a woman, with no concrete thoughts of actual sex, maybe thinking about sitting next to me and watching her play tennis, her skirt fluttering about her thighs, her grunts as she hit the ball, thinking about her not only as the object below him, but as the woman he knew, perhaps he thought that, thought about that and thought about the consequences of not doing it, of allowing the moment to pass, the one moment he might ever have to feel himself inside of her, to feel her body beneath him, and perhaps guilt and lust mingled in his brain, conscience and desire fighting over his actions, and as I watched him I knew what I wanted him to do, I wanted him to take her, I wanted him to give in, and even whispered softly under my breath for him to do it, not wanting the moment to end, not wanting that flow of static over my skin to end, wanting the excitement to build, and I had to hold my breath as I watched him, watched him decide.

Finally he moved and I knew what he had decided. I could tell by the smile on his lips. I could tell by how he moved down her body, sliding his knees back along the pillows, watching her body move slightly back and forth on top of the pillows as he crawled backwards. I could tell by the way his eyes devoured her, anticipating, hungering, in his mind, already owning her.

He crawled back to her knees and touched her thighs, round and firm from so many hours running across the tennis court, jogging, and lifting weights. He wrapped his hands around his thighs and slid his hands up and down, his thumbs moving along her inner thighs. He pushed her skirt high up on her thighs, exposing her skimpy underwear. He looked down between her legs and licked his lips. 

He moved off of her, his eyes never leaving her crotch, stood up and leaned over her. I was surprised to see him grab her under her thighs and carefully drag her towards him, taking a few steps backward as he pulled her with him, her arms stretching over her head, pulling her skirt up her thighs, until her legs rest on the floor and her body was tilted up slightly, resting on the cushions. 

He grabbed her knees and spread her legs wide, bending her knees slightly, spreading her thighs far apart, her skirt pushed up high on her hips, her underwear seeming bright white against her tanned thighs and hips. She looked so helpless laid out like that, her legs spread so wide apart, her skirt bunched up about her waist, her sweater pushed up high on her chest to her neck, her bra pulled down enough to expose her nipples, her arms over her head, her head tilted to the side, her eyes closed, her lips parted slightly, and the sight of her resting there so helpless, her body laid out for him, defenseless, senseless, excited me so much that I had to rub myself through my pants, feeling how hard I was, tracing my fingers along the outline of my erection. I had never seen her like this, seen her body laid out like an offering, like a sacrifice. I had always thought of her as the strong and intelligent woman she was, strong in mind and body and spirit, she softened some in bed, but could never truly surrender, she always had to maintain some control, could never give herself over to me or to her own feelings and desire, and now I saw her as softer, pliable, supple and lenient, indulgent, but it wasn't that I saw myself taking her, saw myself over her, inside of her, laid out unconscious beneath me, no, I wanted to see her taken by another, perhaps to see her final defenses broken, to see her surrender as she would never allow herself, to see her be truly taken, taken and impaled, a genuinely animal instinct.

He knelt between her legs and placed his hands on her thighs. He slid his hands up her inner thighs, spreading them further apart, as he lowered his head to her crotch. He hooked the crotch of her underwear with one finger and pulled it to the side. Then, he settled himself between her legs and began licking her, slowly at first, his eyes straining to look up her body at her face. He lowered his body down further as he became more comfortable that she would stay asleep and began sucking on her, flipping her clit with his tongue and pushing his tongue inside of her, sliding his hands under her thighs and wrapping his arms around her legs, his shoulders pushing into her inner thighs, and he licked up her pussy quickly and plunged his tongue into her and suckled at her and pressed his tongue against her and I saw her stomach jump just a bit as he flicked his tongue across her clit, and saw her legs tremble slightly as he worked his tongue up and down, sucked her clit between his lips, as his tongue darted in and out of her, and her chest began moving up and down a bit faster as his pace increased. 

Then, with a final lick he moved away, pulling his arms from under her thighs. He straightened up and knelt between her legs as he opened his pants, his eyes devouring her, moving over her body, along the length of her long legs, to her wet pussy, up her stomach and to her breasts and to her face, and back down, over and over again as he quietly pushed his pants and underwear down his thighs. His erection extended out to a respectable length, and he stroked it a few times as he looked her over again, enjoying the sight of her, and I saw the look of a conqueror in his eyes, a ruler looking over his kingdom, and this is the moment that is most vivid in my mind, the moment before, when the anticipation was at its highest, the tension was dense enough that I could barely breathe, when he lorded over her as she lay out prostrate and vulnerable, and that image is the clearest in my mind, the image of him kneeling between her legs, stroking his cock to its full length, between her wide spread legs, her underwear still pulled to the side, her pussy glistening wet, her skirt wrapped around her hips, her stomach bare and flat, her breasts rising with her deep breaths, her long blonde hair spread out on the cushions, her face innocent as she slept, and I held my breath as I waited and clutched myself through my pants, anticipating and wanting.

He gently lowered himself down to her, placing one hand beside her, his weight on the pillows tilting her body to the side slightly. He dropped his hips to her hips and between her thighs, his hand grasping his cock and aiming it to her pussy. He looked down at her face and said her name once more, making sure once more, and she didn't respond, her eyelids didn't even flutter, her breathing didn't even change. Then, his fingers were spreading her apart as he pushed his hips forward and I could see his head start to penetrate and then slide up, slip over her wetness, making his body shudder, and he pulled back slightly and pushed down on his erection as he pushed forward again and pushed the head inside of her, and I thought he would find a lot of resistance, knowing how I almost had to fight to get myself inside of her. She was so tight I had to use several increasingly longer strokes to finally penetrate her completely, but was surprised as he seemed to slide in easily, half his length moving into her with little resistance, and realized how relaxed she was in this state, and how tense she was when with me, almost wanting to keep me from penetrating her, and I envied him as he easily and methodically slid in and out of her and was engorged inside of her in only a few strokes, her body so open and giving to his thrusts.

Once his hips met her hips and he was entirely inside of her, he placed both of his hands on either side of her body and held himself over her, his hips pressed to hers. I flattened my body to the wall, one hand pressed to the wall, the other grasping the doorframe tightly as I peeked around it, and began rubbing myself against the wall. I wanted to free myself, but dared not to. I wanted to be as quiet as possible to watch and not interrupt. 

He began moving his cock slowly at first, sliding in and out of her, and her pussy clung to him, wrapped around him, was pushed and pulled with him, and I could hear the faint, moist static sound of their joining and knew she was wet, wet probably not only from his saliva but her own juices and I ground myself harder against the wall. As he pulled his penis back, it fell out and he easily slid it back in, she was so open to him, and he began repeating that motion, pulling himself all the way out so that I could see the head of his cock and slid it back in until his hips met hers, wanting to feel the entire length of himself moving in and out of her.

His body began trembling from the exertion of holding himself over her. He lowered himself slowly down to his elbows and she sank down a bit further as his elbows pushed down on the pillows. He spread his legs, pushing her legs wider with his knees and dug his knees into the floor to push further into her, pressing his hips against her, and settled himself on top of her, still holding his upper body over her. Her butt was barely hanging off of a cushion with her hips tilted up slightly.

He started moving his hips and I could barely see his cock moving in and out of her from between his widely spread legs, working his cock into her deep, stirring her within, his balls pressing against her butt each time he thrust into her. He twisted his hips up each time, raising her hips with him, almost like she was moving with him, urging him inside of her, and I heard him moan "Oh God" as he started moving faster to a medium pace, now sliding out of her enough to rub the underside of the head of his cock against her opening before sliding into her and twisting up inside of her. He started punctuating each deep thrust into her with a soft grunt, his lips trembling, as he looked down between their barely separated bodies, lifting his hips up to see the root of his cock as he slid out of her, watching it slide back into her, disappearing behind the mass of her neatly trimmed blonde pubic hair.

I was pressed against the wall, my hand between my body and the wall, stroking myself through my pants as I watched them. My eyes moved over her body as he fucked her, tracing the curve of her tanned thighs to the soft skin behind her knee, moving slightly as he moved on top of her, her feet wearing bright white tennis shoes and bobby socks rocking back and forth in small circles, her skirt scrunched up around her waist, the bare skin of her hips and pubic area, her hips moving up and down as his thrusts pushed her back and forth, her round buttocks on the edge of a pillow, her tight stomach and curved waist, the tender skin of her sides, her breasts with nipples erect and bra pulled down, her sweater bunched up under her arms and across her upper chest, her arms stretched loosely over her head, her long blonde hair splayed around her head, her face barely turned towards me, her lips parted, her eyes closed, her cheeks flushed, and I had never been so turned on by the sight of her as I was then. I had admired and stroked every inch of her body, but seeing her like this was an excitement I had never felt before.

He settled his hips on her and began thrusting into her faster, moving her body up and down across the pillows, now pressing her hips down into the pillows instead of lifting them, pushing her butt down into the pillow against the floor. He slid his hands under her arms and grasped her shoulders, still holding himself up on his elbows, trying to pull her back against him as he pushed into her. I heard him panting and moaning with the exertion, small droplets of sweat fell to her chest and neck. He quickened his pace further as he dropped his head and started kissing her neck, his body taught above her, concentrated on thrusting into her. His feet kicked and slipped on the floor as he tried to find leverage to plunge into her further. He arched his back as he drove into her, his bare stomach pulling away from hers with that static ripping of moist flesh and smacking together again as he pulled out of her with that hollow, clinging smack. He moved faster, pushing her limp body about like a puppet, pushing her further up on the pillows as he tried to drive into her deeper and she sank further into the cushions. His head rose up and he held his body over her, watching her breasts shake back and forth, and looked down the length of their bodies. 

Then he pushed himself to his knees and grabbed her thighs. He pulled her to him as he backed up until he was kneeling on the floor and her hips were resting on the pillows, and he lifted her hips, tilted them up, and started jabbing into her, no longer worrying about being soft or gentle or quiet. He looked down and watched his cock sliding in and out of her and slid his hands up her legs to rest her thighs on his arms and grabbed her waist and pulled her to him, pulling his hips back and shoving forward, fucking her like I never had, and I watched her face, looking for any sign that she might know what was happening, and saw her breathing heavily, the blush to her cheeks, a bit of sweat on her forehead, and could barely hear her low moans over the sound of skin slapping skin, his balls smacking her butt, and his panting. I slid my hand faster and faster over my trapped erection as I watched him using her body.

I heard him almost cry out, a loud whimper like he was in pain and then he fell on top of her, holding the backs of her thighs and pulling her legs under his arms, leaving her feet dangling and bumping against his butt and legs as he thrust down and into her, plunging the depths of her, and I could see how her pussy was turned up to meet him as he pulled her legs up, saw his cock engorged inside of her, the milky wetness that clung to his penis and balls and was dripping down her ass, and knew that in her sleep she was enjoying it, her body was reacting and I watched him moving in shorter and harder thrusts, until he had her butt pressed down hard, flattening the pillow to the floor, and his body started jerking, his butt and hips twitching, as he grunted with his lips pressed to her shoulder, his arms holding her thighs high up under his arms so that it looked like her legs were wrapped around his torso, and then he pushed down and into her really deep, holding himself there, and I heard her whimper once and saw her arms jerk and her feet kick up, striking against his butt and then lay still as his body shuddered, and he let out a deep breath and relaxed down on top of her.




Perversions and Transgressions



He lay on top of her panting, moving his hips very slowly, allowing the last of his semen to spill into her. He carefully lowered her legs back to the floor, so that her thighs were spread far apart, kissed her neck, moved down to kiss her nipples, and then sat up to his knees. He looked down at her with his cock still inside of her, his hands on his hips, his chest rising with his heavy breathing, and then once satisfied with that final image of her body before him and his spent cock inside of her, he slid out of her, letting a stream of his thick, milky fluid flow from her and down her butt and to the pillows.

I watched as he stood up to pull his pants up and fasten them, still looking down at her with a satisfied grin. I looked at her pussy, stretched wider, his semen leaking out of her, her skirt pushed to her waist, and thought how she looked used, and felt my body tense as I wanted to come inside my pants. Instead I backed away slowly, watching him stand over her as he straightened his clothes and wiped the sweat from his brow, as she lay silently still, and I quietly crept back to the living room.

I lay back down on the couch and felt my heart beating hard in my chest, felt myself still turned on, excited, playing the images over in my head, until the effects of the alcohol finally took me over and I fell asleep.

When I woke in the morning, I found the living room empty of sleepers. I sat up and my stomach revolted at the sight of the James Patricks sitting on a couch, sharing a cold, stale pizza. I pushed myself to my feet, the memory of the night before still clear in my mind.

They offered me a glass of water and some Tylenol, which I took, drinking the water down greedily. They told me that Denise was in The Den, assuming I was looking for her, and I thanked them and walked back there, bring her a full glass of water and some Tylenol.

The door was pushed almost closed and I nudged it open, wondering what I would find, if I'd find her in the state I last saw her or if I'd find them sleeping together. She was alone, curled into a fetal position, her clothes looking like she had only slept in them, her skirt twisted around her thighs, her sweater pulled down and wrapped around her. I nudged her awake and she woke up with a groan, pressing her hands to her head. She sat up and I gave her the pills and water. I watched her closely, looking for any signs that she knew, but she only complained of being sore all over and feeling sticky and dirty. She took a quick shower there, just to feel better she said. 

When she came out, she looked refreshed and showed no signs of even suspecting anything. Later, she only said that she must have had a great dream she couldn't remember because she was a little sticky between her thighs like she had been wet. I just laughed about it, wondering if Thomas had cleaned up the worst of it. When Thomas woke up he acted no differently. He complained of a hangover and mentioned the girl, Lisa, that was still in bed from exhaustion, making many allusions to a night of acrobatic sexual activity. Denise laughed and shook her head. 

I almost couldn't believe everything would return to normal. Well, actually, everything didn't return quite to normal. Thomas no longer gave Denise the look he used to. He flirted with her like he does all women, but no longer flattered her as much, choosing other girls instead. Perhaps since he had her already he was no longer that interested. My friendship with him cooled quickly until we barely talked anymore. I'm not sure if it was jealousy on part, but I just couldn't see him as the same person.

The biggest change was in me. I had found what truly excited me, more than anything else ever had or ever would. An appetite had been awakened that I'd have to feed, one that would become a private, but very important part of my life, and would drive me to such perversions and transgressions that I would risk my marriage, my career, and my life to satisfy it.