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Rio

By: unknooown



Kate was angry. Julian knew it and he didn't care, he was angry too. She fucked up and she was still paying for it, and unfortunately so was he.

"How much did you get done?" He asked as they walked to the restaurant for dinner. 

They'd been in Rio for three days and had another five to go. For hours each day, Katie was stuck in their hotel room doing a paper for her grad level Comparative Lit class. Correction: redoing a paper, but that was a different story entirely.

"I have like eight pages left, ten at the most" she mumbled, bringing her hand to her forehead. She was exhausted.

"That's not what I asked."

"Julian." She stopped short to stomp her foot. The couple ahead of them looked back briefly.

He spun around to glare at her.

"Don't you dare throw a tantrum."

"Don't start shit over semantics!"

"Get over here." His teeth were bared.

She obeyed.

"How. Much. Did. You. Get. Done?" He had her upper arm in his grasp and was pulling her along swiftly.

She thought about lying. She really seriously considered lying but she knew it wouldn't end well. "I'm tired."

His grip tightened, becoming painful.

"Six," she said quickly, hoping her admittance would prompt him to release her arm. 

He squeezed harder and picked up his pace but his face showed no change. Inside he was seething. He imagined throwing her onto the sidewalk like a rag doll. That wouldn't go over well in public.

She gasped, his fingers digging into her arm. "Please let go," she whispered, knowing she had to stay calm and not start a scene.

He said nothing, and if there was any change in the strength of his grip it only got harder. He tugged at her, enjoying the little gasps that escaped her lips each time.

The restaurant was on the corner. Julian checked his watch -- they still had time before their reservation. Taking deep breaths he pulled her around the side of the building and pushed her up against the wall.

"How the fuck did you manage to only write six pages today?" His face was inches from hers.

"I'm tired," she said, voice shaky. "I'm fucking tired, Julian. I write all day, we go out at night..." She was getting teary.

He put his hand to her throat and squeezed, cutting off the airflow. "Don't start crying out here, Katie, or I'll give you something to cry about."

With that he released her neck, grabbed her by the hand, and dragged her back around the corner and into the restaurant. Her arm ached.

Dinner was tense. He ordered for her -- appetizers, food, drinks. She glared at him from across the table, growing angrier with every word he said. He didn't fucking know. She was exhausted and frustrated and wanted to either write the paper or enjoy their vacation -- not both. Both was too much. She told him that, tried to convince him, but he didn't listen. Once he got an idea in his head he never listened to anyone else.

He ordered another bottle of wine for the table.

"I don't want anymore," Kate told him. She pushed her glass away.

Julian smiled a genuine smile. He found her resistance legitimately endearing. "You're not done," he said softly.

"I am." She jutted her chin out and stared at him defiantly. "I don't want anymore."

The waitress was still standing over them, unsure if she should get another bottle or not. Julian nodded at her. "We will take that second bottle."

"You're wasting your money," Kate said.

"No," he hissed, jaw clenched. "You're wasting my money. The last three days have been a waste of my fucking money."

She looked down into her lap. He was right.

The waitress returned and allowed Julian to sample the wine before she filled his glass. "Hers too," he said, handing Kate's glass over. 

He turned his attention to his girlfriend and, to her embarassment, issued her a very gutteral and very public warning: "don't be stupid."

She knew what he meant. Drink the wine and shut up. Do what I say and shut up. Stop talking back. Stop glaring, drop the attitude, and shut the fuck up.

They sipped their wine in silence. Julian gazed out at the beach and the city skyline as it started to rain. He wished they were there under better circumstances. Jesus, he was furious. She was a spoiled fucking child.

He turned to face her. "You're going to write another three pages before you go to bed tonight," he said. 

"I'm too tired." 

"And then tomorrow you can finish it. Then we'll be able to enjoy the rest of our vacation."

"I'm too tired to write any more tonight."

"I didn't fucking ask you." 

She opened her mouth and then closed it. She had a zinger but didn't know if she wanted to use it. He was already angry. Julian was known among their friends to have a temper. Most of them knew there was a line and not to cross it. Katie knew it better than anyone. And yet, with her mouth and her wit she found herself on the line, over the line, and just before the line on a fairly regular basis. It was part of why he loved her -- she fought back, and with force. She couldn't hurt him physically but she could absolutely hurt him. A relationship is no fun if it's one sided.

"What," he asked, leering. "What were you going to say, little girl?"

She shook her head, mouth closed, pretending to be afraid.

"That's what I thought." And with just a look he repeated his earlier warning: don't be stupid. 

"Please, um..." Katie looked startled at the sound of her own voice. Butterflies rose in her stomach, daring her to continue. "Please don't drink too much, though."

Julian was a bit taken aback by her earnest request but didn't falter; instead he just leaned forward, over the table, and quietly asked, "afraid of what I might do, kiddo?"

Kate leaned back in her chair and with an air of cockiness she brought her glass of wine to her lips. She sipped it slowly. "No," she said, loud enough that the nearby tables could hear. "But it would be nice if you could get it up unlike last night."

The color drained from Julian's face as he stared at her in silence. Her heart was pounding. That was so far beyond the line -- and so far beyond her farthest deviation from the line; suddenly she was shaking all over. She couldn't hold her glass steady and set it quickly on the table. 

"Get your fucking bag, we're leaving." Julian made no attempt to keep his voice down. He dug through his wallet and tossed 250 reals onto the table. With that he walked outside to wait for her. 

She knew she was fucked and tried to imagine what he was going to do to her but couldn't. Inside she felt both fear and excitement. Her panties were wet.

She was expecting the ambush when she stepped out of the restaurant and was not disappointed. Julian immediately grabbed her by the hair and pulled her ear to his mouth. "That was fucking stupid." Back around the corner he dragged her and pushed her up against that wall again. The palm of his hand connected with her cheek two, three, four times before he released her and took a step back. "I should just leave you here."

Terror flashed across her face. She opened her mouth and then closed it again, and before she could form words he stopped her.

"I'm not going to, but I should." He grabbed her by the hair again and pulled her towards him. "That was so fucking stupid, Katie. Jesus christ."

Julian spun her around so she was facing the wall and pushed her up against it. Hair still wrapped around his fist he jerked her head back. "You want me to be able to get it up?" He growled. "Well, let's see."

Kate whimpered as she listened to him unbuckle his belt and pull it from his pants. Then she heard his zipper. She shuddered. They were on a side street only 20 feet from the main road. Anybody that walked by could see them -- was he serious?

He was. She stood there, trembling, as he yanked her panties down to her knees and pulled her dress up so she was completely exposed.

"You fucking bitch." 

CRACK!

She cried out as his belt hit her behind.

"Shut the fuck up."

She was already in tears. 

CRACK!

"No, no," she begged, struggling to get away. His grip on her hair was too tight.

"Shut the fuck up," he told her. "You act like a fucking child. You are a fucking child. No self-control. This is what happens to bad children." 

The belt hit her ass with a loud crack and she cried out again. "Please please please please Julian please no, please don't."

"Shut up. I mean it. Shut the fuck up."

He hit her again. She managed to stifle her yelp. 

"That's good," he whispered in her ear. 

Again. Her behind felt like it was on fire. She rested her head against the wall and tried to take deep breaths.

And again, then dropped his belt on the ground beside her handbag.

"When I'm finished with you," he said to her in a steady voice, "you are going to wish to fucking hell that I couldn't get it up."

He grabbed her hips and pulled her back so her ass was in the air and her cunt was easily accessible. She sniffled, still horrified at the thought of someone seeing them. Under the cover of night there was, admittedly, an exciting aspect to the situation, but she was too overwhelmed, too afraid of being caught, to appreciate it.

Julian linked his arms under hers and grasped her shoulders so he could pull her down onto him while he fucked her. She sucked in her breath, tensing up in preparation of his invasion.

He slammed into her. Biting her lip she managed to muffle her cry. It fucking hurt -- sex with him always hurt, the bottom line being that he was too big and she was too small and she needed just a little time to adjust to his size. But he never gave it to her.

"You're wet," he hissed in her ear. This infuriated him even more. "You're fucking wet. " He pulled out and snatched his belt up from the ground.

"No!" She jumped, trying to avoid the blow, but to no avail. He pulled up her skirt once more and yanked her toward him. He hit her again. 

"Please," she cried.

And again. "Keep screaming," he growled, pulling her close to him. "We're on a fucking back road in Rio de Janeiro at 11pm -- you think anyone that can hear you will care?" He wrapped his hand around his throat and squeezed. "Nobody's going to help you, Katie. If anything they'll want a piece of you." He dropped his belt again and shoved two, three fingers in her cunt. She was still wet.

Suddenly he released her and she nearly lost her balance. 

"You fucking like that?" He seethed.

"No."

"You want people to see you get fucked? That makes you wet?"

"No!" Her face was flushed, betraying her secret.

"Put your fucking panties on," he ordered, tucking himself back into his pants and putting his belt back on. "We're going back to the hotel."

She did as she was told and then followed him to the curb where he looked for an empty cab in the rain. They were both soaked.

Finally one stopped for them and they got in. Julian gave the destination to the driver and turned his attention back to Katie. "What the fuck made you think that was a good idea? What the fuck made you think you could speak to me like that?"

She shook her head at a loss for words.

"I mean in what fucking universe would that be a smart thing to say to me, huh?"

Again, she said nothing.

"Now you're quiet. I've been telling you to shut the fuck up all night, and now you're fucking quiet. Huh?" He slapped her across the face.

She brought her hand up to her cheek but he pulled it away and slapped her again. And again.

"Hey!" The driver yelled back to them. He said something in Portuguese that, being semi-fluent in Spanish, Julian took to mean he couldn't beat her up in the cab. The cabbie pointed outside to indicate if Julian wanted the abuse to continue he would have to be dropped off.

"Qué pasa si quiero follar?" Julian asked. 

The cabbie said nothing, but Julian thought he saw a nod.

He looked over at Katie. "You want to be watched? Huh? You want to have an audience while I fuck you?"

"No," she insisted. She wasn't sure.

Julian pulled at her underwear and she tried to fight him off but he was too strong. 

"What are you doing?" She exlaimed, her voice cracking. "No!"

He covered her mouth, squeezing tightly. "Be fucking considerate," he snapped. "This guy has enough distractions."

She shook her head, still trying to pull away.

"Come on, you fucking bitch. You're so wet, it's all over the seat. Come on, darlin'." Finally he was able get his pants undone and pull her into his lap. "You're getting off on this just as much as I am." He pulled the front of her dress down, exposing her breasts -- her nipples were hard. "You fucking whore."

He forced her down on his cock and she yelped into his hand, still planted firmly over his mouth. He slid in and out easily, pulling her down onto him with brutal force. He removed his hand from her mouth and slapped her breasts. 

"Esto está bien?" Julian asked the driver. 

They locked eyes in the rearview mirror. Julian slapped Katie's breasts again, and then a third time. 

The driver gave another nod and looked away.

"I can't wait to use my belt on your tits," he hissed, still fucking her. "Your tits, your ass, your cunt. Everything's getting beaten tonight."

He had never hit her pussy before. She tried to pull back, horrified.

"No you don't" he said, pulling her down even harder. He kept her there, rocking back and forth. "I can't believe you're getting off on this," he said. "You're a fucking whore."

His thumb moved to her clit and again she tried to get away but he gave her another pull, this one harder, his teeth bared, and smiled cruelly as she cried out in pain.

The driver had pulled in front of the hotel but made no effort to eject his patrons from the car. He watched, rapt, in the rear-view mirror, turning around occasionally to get a better look.

Julian continued to fuck her as her worked on her clit, and her body was turning against her completely. She moaned although she tried to disguise it, and Julian laughed -- there was no fooling him.

Soon she was sighing, her forehead resting on his shoulder, as her hips bucked. "Oh," she moaned. "Ohh. Please..."

"Please what?" Julian snatched his hand from her clit and she groaned. "Please let you finish?"

Katie suddenly remembered her surroundings and felt mortified, but still she ground her hips gently against him. And still impaled on his cock, she wanted more than anything to finish.

"Please what?" Julian demanded.

Ultimately her head won out over her body. "Please can we go inside?" She whispered.

Julian pushed her off him, to the side, and leaned forward to see how much he owed the cabbie. He handed him far more than was necessary, and when the driver looked up from counting Julian put his fingers over his lips and nodded. The driver nodded back. 

"Come on, let's go." He grabbed Katie by the arm and pulled her out, and as she steadied herself on her feet Julian pushed her panties down to her ankles. "Step out of them," her ordered.

"What are you doing?!" She didn't move.

He bent down and grabbed one leg and then the other, lifting her feet from the ground, then grabbed her panties and handed them through the open window to their stunned driver. 

"Julian, what the f--"

He yanked her by the arm toward the hotel, speaking quietly as they marched along. "You're going to keep your mouth shut. You're going to stay by my side. You're not going to look at anyone. You're going to do exactly as I say. You're going to keep your mouth shut."

With his hand now clamped tightly on the back of her neck he led her through the busy lobby and into an elevator. The second the door closed he pulled the top of her dress down and slapped her breasts again.

"Stop it!" 

"Shut up."

He hit her again as the elevator slowed. Quickly he pulled her dress back up. She looks slightly disheveled but still decent.

They were quiet as two young men got on the elevator and pressed the button for bar on the top floor. Six more to go before Kate and Julian reached their own. The elevator was excruciatingly slow.

And Julian was impatient. He turned his attention back to Katie. "I bet you're still wet."

Before she could say anything he grabbed her and slid one hand up her skirt to confirm. "Whore," he growled, pulling his hand back out and bringing his glistening fingers to her face. "You want to taste youself?"

Katie couldn't bring herself to even react. When they were alone she very much enjoyed when Julian made her taste herself, but now was not the time, this was not the place. The two young men were polite enough not to look, not to speak, but it was clear they were listening very closely.

"You either taste yourself or I start slapping your tits again," Julian said.

One of the young men shifted. Katie wondered, as she sucked Julian's fingers clean, if they spoke English.

Finally, their own floor. Julian pushed her out of the elevator, and just before the door closed behind them he snatched her skirt up and gave her a hefty swat on the ass. 

"Julian!" She forced her skirt back down.

"I couldn't tease them like that and not deliver," he said, swiping his key card. "It's just not fair."

Seconds later the door was closed and locked firmly behind them and Katie, suddenly and without warning, was in a heap on the floor. 

"Get up." He didn't give her a chance. He yanked her to her feet by the wrist and pushed her down again. "Get up." Again. "Get up!"

"Well stop pushing me down!" Katie exclaimed, scrambling to her feet. She was already fucked and she knew it, why not talk back?

"See," he said, smacking her in the mouth. "This is what got you in trouble in the first place. You have no self-control. None." He yanked his belt off and stepped toward her.

Katie stepped back. "Please," she begged, her attitude changed.

"Shut your fucking mouth, Katie, I mean it."

"Please." 

He took another step. "Bend over the desk."

She was crying again. "Please!" She begged. "Please, I'm sorry, I swear, I'm sorry!"

He grabbed her by the throat and lifted until she was on her tippy toes, struggling for balance. "If I hear another word out of you, Katie, I swear to god I will not stop beating you with this belt until my arm is sore. I swear to fucking god, Katie. I've had it."

She nodded, mouth clamped shut.

He released her and she nearly fell. 

"Bend over the desk," he said again. "I won't tell you a third time." 

She obeyed. He could see her trembling in the dark.

"You can cry all you want. I don't give a shit. But if I hear one more word out of you, just one, I will lose it. Right now I am in control. Don't push me to a point where I'm not." Before his words could even sink in he brought the belt to ass. 

CRACK!

She shrieked. He liked it.

CRACK!

Another cry. She was beginning to grow hoarse.

CRACK!

And she was sobbing now, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her behind was bright red. It turned it him on.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

Her knees gave out and she fell. Without a thought Julian just pulled her back up by her arm and pushed her over the desk again.

CRACK!

Suddenly he took three long, swift steps back and took a few seconds to catch his breath. She remained in position.

"You can stand up," he said finally. "Still no talking."

It took a few moments but finally Katie was able to stand upright. 

"Sit on the desk. Hold your hands behind your back."

She obeyed, cringing as her behind touched the surface of the desk, with tears still falling down her cheeks. Her pussy ached to be fucked. Her thighs were were glistening. It was difficult to reconcile this level of violence with the level of her arousal. And Julian knew. How humiliating.

He pulled the tie from around his neck and used it to bind her hands in place. Then, "same rules. Cry all you want but not a fucking word."


"Rio" Grande



Son of a bitch, I thought as I saw the strobing red and blue lights outside of my barn. The music cut off and people scattered as I saw two large men exit the police cruisers that had just arrived and ruined the evening for my friends and I. Being twenty years old, I was not yet legally allowed to drink, but I mean come on, I only had three more months. The first officer spotted me up on the loft and motioned to me saying "Hey Erin, come here for a second, please". I groaned as I realized it was my brother's best friend, Rio. Just what I needed, for him to show up and start ragging on me like he always did. I mean sure, he was gorgeous, and we flirted some, but he also annoyed the hell out of me sometimes.

I walked over to the ladder and began to climb down. When I was about 2/3 of the way down I felt two large, hard hands grip my waist and heave me down onto my feet. I stumbled a bit and fell back into a sculpted chest with an undignified oomph. Rio's hands gripped my shoulders and turned me around to face him.

"So... when the parents are away the kids will play?" he asked as he looked at me, one black eyebrow quirked up and a slight smile on his lips. I stuck my tongue out at him, choosing not to speak. Classy, I know. Rio let out a rumbling laugh and tugged on one of my blonde pigtails.

"Girl, you know you can't be having all these underage kids out here drinking and carrying on. This here's my partner Noah." My gaze shot over to the tall man behind Rio. He merely nodded when my gaze met his.

"What're you gonna do Rio, arrest me?" I asked, sticking out my lower lip a bit and looking up from under my eyelashes at him.

Heaving a sigh that made his broad shoulders flex, he rolled his eyes. "How much have you had to drink, Erin? You didn't seem too steady on your feet when I sat you down."

"I only had two beers so far, I swear. I only stumbled because my boot heel got caught on that damn wood plank." I answered nodding towards the busted board laying on the floor.

Rio eyed me skeptically then turned to his partner and spoke. "Noah, you can go ahead and head back out, I can handle this. Seems that most of the kids have fled anyway." It was then that I noticed that all of my friends had, indeed, gotten into their cars and fled while the officers' attention had been on me. The man named Noah nodded and strode back to his car then drove down my long dirt lane.

Rio turned back to me and reached out, snagging me by my belt loop and dragging me closer to him. His gaze searched mine and I could not tell what he was thinking at the moment. Rio was hard to read like that.

"Why do you insist on getting me into predicaments like this?" he asked in a low, deep voice. I scowled at him, not fully understanding. After all, I hadn't forced him to come here and break up my party.

"Like what?" I asked, cocking my head to the side a bit.

Rio stepped back and his gaze slid down my face to my button-up blue and white plaid shirt. The top three buttons I had left undone showed quite a bit of cleavage and Rio's eyes remained on that spot for a few seconds before his gaze traveled lower. My nipples tightened as his gaze locked on them. It was obvious I was wearing no bra. My tight jeans fit my toned legs like a second skin all the way down to my worn out cowgirl boots and Rio took his time staring at that as well. 

"You've put me in a tight spot, baby," he said slowly and his gaze flickered down to the bulge in his uniform pants. "Ya see, now I'm all hard from watching that tight ass of yours climb down that ladder earlier. I can't very well go back out on patrol with a raging hard-on."

Understanding finally dawned in my mind. I smiled slightly and looked up into Rio's meadow-green eyes. Desire was raging in their depths as I took a small step forward bringing my soft, pliant chest into contact with his hard, unyielding one. I placed hands on Rio's lean hips, right above his gun belt.

"Lose the belt Rio. I don't want a bullet in the face when I'm down there," I whispered softly, letting my lips lightly touch his ear as I spoke into it. I felt his tense body shudder before he quickly took off the belt and hung it on a peg on the wall.

He returned in seconds and his large hands spanned my waist and dragged me to him again. He began kissing me on my neck, throat, jaw, and then finally lips. His kiss was hot and demanding, his tongue immediately entering my mouth and dueling with my own. I felt his hands slide up my sides, over my ribcage. His hands surrounded my breasts, lifting their weight before he ran his thumbs over both of my aching nipples at the same time. My knees went weak from the intense pleasure and I whimpered into his mouth, locking my arms around his neck to support my weight.

Rio continued to flick at my nipples through my shirt, alternately pulling and lightly pinching them. My stomach clenched with desire and I pressed my hips to his, grinding my pulsing womanhood up against his long, throbbing cock. It was Rio's turn to groan as he broke our heated kiss.

"God Erin, I need to get you out of those clothes like ten minutes ago", he said between hard breaths. I nodded my agreement and my fingers went to the buttons on my shirt. Rio's hand shot out and stopped me and I looked up in confusion. "Not here baby, we don't know for sure all of your friends are gone". He took my hand and nearly drug me through the barn to the tack room in the back. Luckily, we kept a cot in this room for the times when we spent night after night in the barn with sick or pregnant horses.

Rio closed the door behind us and locked it before flipping on the overhead lights, bringing the room into blinding brightness. I took in Rio's flushed neck and face and the way his chest was heaving from arousal. His penis was straining against the heavy cotton of his uniform trousers and I could see it flex when my gaze landed on it.

My hands reached up and I slowly undid each button of my shirt, starting at the bottom. His gaze followed my hands, taking in every inch of tanned, toned flesh that I exposed. I saw his gaze snag on my belly button ring that was the shape of a horseshoe. He looked up into my eyes and smiled. "Perfect," he said softly as he nodded. I undid the last button of my shirt and my breasts spilled free of the confining material. When I wore a bra it was a size 36c. Not huge, but they were big enough, and firm enough to stand on their own a lot of the time, like tonight. Rio's eyes seemed to burst into flames at the sight of my breasts. He took a step towards me but I stopped him with a palm to his chest.

"You next", was all I said to him, but he got the message. He made quick work of his button-up work shirt, and it joined mine on the floor. His chest and abs were to die for, I thought to myself. All of the time spent in the gym, and working on his farm had toned his body to perfection. His pecs were well-defined and his abs rippled with every move that he made. 

This time when he stepped towards me I let him. His hands were immediately on my tits and mine began to fumble with the button and zipper on his trousers. I trembled in pleasure as he played with my breasts. After what seemed like years, I finally got into his pants and freed his pulsing member from the confinement of his boxer briefs. It jumped in my small hands and a small bead of liquid emerged from the top. I used the pad of my thumb to spread the moisture around the head of his cock before kneeling down and slowly licking the underside of his cock from base to top.

Rio's hands fisted in my hair at the first contact of my tongue to his cock. A loud, feral sounding groan escaped his lips and his hips bucked towards my mouth unintentionally. I smiled to myself and slowly took his length into my mouth. It was a challenge. Rio was not small by anyone's standards. I finally managed to get his whole length into my mouth and, consequently, my throat. I used my tongue to rub the base of him and his cock jumped in my throat.

After sucking on him for what seemed like only seconds, but must have been five minutes, Rio pulled me away. His eyes were glazed over with passion as he stared at me. "Baby, I need in you, now", he whispered raggedly.

I grinned and made quick work of my jeans. Rio's gaze speared the boots I had shed in order to get my jeans off. "Put those back on, honey", he said. I smiled and obligingly put my boots back on. Rio grabbed my waist and pulled me back to the cot. He lay down first, pulling me on top of him. 

"Cowgirl up" he said as he reached up to fondle my breasts again. My pussy was already drenched from the foreplay so as soon as I straddled him, his cock slipped into my tight canal. We both groaned at how tightly he fit into me. It had been a long, long time since I had had intercourse and he was quite large.

I began to move up and down his length, starting out slow and picking up speed as I went. His hands were spanning my tiny waist and his head was thrown back in ecstasy. I watched as his head fell back against the pillow and his eyes closed. I rode him even harder, until my ass was slapping against him and I could feel him all the way up in what felt like my stomach. My pussy started to clench around him, and I felt his cock flex inside of me. His fingers bit into my flesh so hard I thought they might leave marks, but I was so swept up in the pleasure I barely noticed the pain. My fingers were tangled in the light sprinkling of hair on Rio's chest and I was panting when I felt the beginning of my orgasm. I cried out softly just as Rio let out a bellow and bucked his hips up to meet me. I felt his seed pouring into me, hitting the walls of my canal, and it pushed me over the edge. I was swept away in the intense pleasure, and when I slowly drifted back to Earth, I was cradled on Rio's heaving chest, his strong arms encircling my shoulders. I looked up into his eyes and smiled. He looked so possessive it made me laugh.

"You know, you are mine now Erin. No one else's. I don't intend to share you." he whispered in my ear. My heart gave a little flop as he spoke the words. I nodded slowly, just as his radio crackled and I heard a voice come across it.

"Yo, Rio. You ever coming back out into the field or you out for the night?" Noah asked. Rio reached over and snagged the radio. 

"Handle it for the rest of the shift, Noah, I'm gonna be pretty busy", he said before laying the radio back down. I heard a chuckle come across the radio and "10-4" before Rio kissed me again and I stopped paying attention to anything other than him.



Rio Ravishment



It was holiday season and they were enjoying themselves.

They were both pretty blondes, cousins, aged eighteen and nineteen respectively. They were still virgins but this was more by chance than conscious design. Neither had any objection to losing her virginity in the right circumstances, but neither were they in a hurry to have sex with someone just to be able to say that they had. It would happen when it happens.

Tonight they were going to the parade with Raoul and Ramon, a couple of Argentines in their early twenties. They had sort of teamed up with Christy and Jayde, not as two couples but as a group of four, with the men showing the girls their city. They had, naturally, chanced their arm but the girls had been casual but firm. No sex. We don't know you that well. Let's just get acquainted first and see what develops.

Ramon said that he has access to an apartment that overlooked the carnival route. The girls would be able to stand at the windows and have an excellent view of everything and get some good photos without being jostled by the crowds. No compulsion. The girls could check out the place and see that they weren't being lured into a den of iniquity or be expected to watch the carnival from a bedroom. This was said a bit tongue in cheek, and with a slight smile, but the girls realised that it was only sensible to check things.

The apartment proved to be a single bedroom on the fourth floor of a building right in the centre of the march route. The front room was set up as a lounge room, with a couple of armchairs and a TV, and there were two tall windows either side of a wall column from which they would have an excellent view and get some marvellous photos.

The parade was scheduled to start at 9:00pm. The foursome were at the apartment around 8:30, having a light meal, chatting and keeping an eye out for the start of the parade. Very soon they heard the noise levels outside start to rise and realised that the first major Samba-School was approaching.

"Hey, girls." Ramon called. "Don't just stand in the window. Lean out so you can get a good view of the floats coming and going. The windows are waist high so you won't fall out, and we'll be right here to stop you getting too carried away. And don't forget your cameras. You'll want to put the straps around your neck because if you drop them you'll never see them again."

Christy and Jayde know good advice when they hear it and in a matter of moments they are leaning out, taking photos and chatting.

Then Ramon and Raoul slid the windows back down, firmly closing them down to the girls waists and wedging them in position. Jayde and Christy were startled, naturally, and try to pull back in through the windows, but the wedges are very firmly in place and the girls find themselves unable to make any progress apart from the ability to wriggle slightly. 

"What are you doing?" 

"Let us out."

The girls yell but find the boys totally ignoring anything they say.

"Christy! What are they doing?" Jayde yells to her cousin. 

"I don't know.' Christy yells back. "I think they're just clowning around and they'll let us out OH! JAYDE! Raoul is undoing my shorts. He's pulling them down and I've only got a thong on underneath."

"I know. Me, too" screamed Jayde. "And Ramon has just yanked down my shorts. Oh, God. Now he's pulling down my panties.

While the girls squirmed and yelled to each other the boys were laughing and slowly stripping off shorts, thongs, socks and shoes, until both girls were completely naked from the waist down. Now the real fun could begin.

The girls had quickly realised that there was nothing they could do to hinder the boys. They were stuck and screaming was useless. They were four stories up, and there was no way anyone would hear them over the noise of the riotous carnival crowd.

Christy lashed out and tried to kick Raoul, who dodged easily and called to Ramon. Ramon then firmly smacked Jayde on the bottom and told her to tell Christy not to do that.

"Christy, what did you do? Ramon just spanked me and said you were to stop it." wailed Jayde.

"All I did was try to kick Raoul, like this" Christy called back as she lashed out at Raoul again.

Another nod, and Ramon delivers another firm spank to Jayde's bottom, who squealed indignantly.

"Don't kick at him. I get spanked when you do. Look." Jayde frantically tried to kick Ramon. A nod to Raoul and this time Christy was able to enjoy the experience of a very hard hand coming down firmly on her pretty little bum.

"This isn't fair!" screamed Christy. "Whichever one of tries to defend ourselves causes the other to get spanked. That is a rotten thing to do."

"Maybe so, but it works. I'm not kicking if it means you get spanked. I assume you have the same intention."

"Yes." sighed Christy. "No use causing you to get a beating when I probably can't even connect with Raoul. What do we do now?"

"Just wait and see what the boys intend doing I guess. Do you think they're going to molest us?"

"You are so naive, Jayde. They're already molesting us. I suppose what you really mean, but are too chicken to say, is do I think the boys are going to rape us? We're naked from the waist down and can't run away. Do you think they've done this just to admire the view? Of course they're going to rape us. The question is how?"

"What do you mean how?"

"Are they going to pull a slam, bam, thank you, ma'am, or are they going to take their time? I think they're going to take their time. It's not like we're going anywhere."

"But, Christy, we're virgins. This is not how I envisage my first time." wailed Jayde. "I don't want this."

"Jayde."

"What? And why are you looking like that?"

"Raoul is stoking my pussy."

"Oh. Then that means that... Yes. Ramon is now touching me."

"Stroking you?"

"No. He's cupped me and is gently squeezing and letting go. What is Raoul doing?"

"He's just rubbing his fingers back and forth along my slit. It appears they have different methods of doing things."

"What's it feel like?

"Different. And I hate to say it, exciting. I haven't had a boy touch me up like this, especially being so helpless. What's Ramon like?"

"Like you said. Different, but exciting. What are we going to do?"

"Nothing we can do but keep talking and try to keep our spirits up. At least we're together and can share."

"Jayde! He's eased my lips apart and is stroking inside me. Oh, God! He just put another finger inside."

"Ramon is starting to do the same thing. They're really going to do this aren't they?"

"Just as soon as they think our pussies are receptive enough they're going to start the action in earnest."

Some time passes, while the girls watch each other, seeing the touch of frustrated desire slowly settle on each others face as the gentle stroking and internal manipulation continued.

"Jayde! Raoul has pressed his thing again me."

"His thing? You mean his cock?"

"Yes, damn it, his cock. It's pressed right along the crack of my bum. How big are these things supposed to be anyway. I thought they were only a few inches." 

"Six inches is average I believe. How big is Raoul's?"

"Terror says it's 20 inches, but I suppose logic and what I can feel say between 7 and 8 inches. And I'm sure it can't really be as wide as it feels. Oh, god! It's going to happen soon."

"I think you might be lucky." quavered Jayde. "Ramon has just slipped his cock between my legs and if it's as short as 8 inches I'll eat it."

"Ahh. I don't think you should be saying something like that, Jayde. If Ramon hears you, you may have to."

"Christy! "He's moving my lips apart and pushing the edge of his cock into me. It's happening."

"I know! I assure you, I know! Raoul has just done the same to me and that snake of his is creeping into me."

"What happens now?"

"I don't know. I've never done this before either, remember. It's a case of wait and see. Just tell me what's happening and I'll do the same."

"OK. Ramon's just pushing firmly in. He's not in a hurry, but he's not taking his time, either."

"Same here. Does yours feel as large in you as mine does?"

"Probably. It seems to be filling me more than I can take. He's pushed it all the way up and is pressing against my cherry. If he goes any further he's going to pop it."

"I think that is their intention. They are raping us, after all. Raouls is also leaning hard against my cherry. Any bets as to which one of us gets popped first?"

"Christy! How can you make such a suggestion? Umm. Me, I think because Ramon is being very aggressive in his invasion of my pussy."

"I'll say you, too. Raoul is pulling back."

"Um. So is Ramon. What are they doing now?"

"Why ask me? You'll find out as fast as I will. Ahhh. Raoul is coming back in. He's moving back and forth. It feels weird."

"Ditto with Ramon. Back and forth with these funny little strokes. Ramon is doing them real quick. He jerks it back and pushes quickly forward. What is Raoul doing?"

"Same sort of thing, but from what you say he's moving a lot more smoothly than Ramon. He sort of slides out and then gently slides back in. I can't seem to help it but every time he slides in I find I'm pushing out to meet him, trying to get him to come further in. He feels enormous inside me but I'm starting to want more."

"Same here, Christy. When Ramon jerks it in I find I'm trying to spread my lips to grab a hold of that cock and pull it in. This is weird. But it's also starting to feel good."

"Is it ever! It makes you wonder why we waited this long. But this is still rape and there is no way that I'm going to admit that I like this."

"Owww!

"Ramon couldn't wait any longer?"

"Ow. He just suddenly rammed it in all the way, popped my cherry and jammed his cock so far up me that I think if I swallow I'll taste it. Now he's just holding it there, all the way inside me. I find I'm sort of wriggling about trying to adjust to this. I swear, a horse probably has a smaller cock than this animal. What is Raoul doing?"

"Still those little strokes, but he's speeding up. Any moment now I think... Ouch! Yes. I've finally had my cherry popped. He didn't come charging up me though. He's just barely passed where my hymen was, and he's coming in a little bit at a time, sort of letting me adjust to it as he comes. This feels so peculiar. I'm trying to talk to you but I'm thinking cock. There's a cock in me. It's swelling inside me. Do these things get even bigger once they're in you? I'll swear it's growing. And he's still slowly sliding it in. I wish he would stop stuffing around and finish the job!"

"Different men, different methods, I guess. I think I've finally adjusted to Ramon but he's still not doing anything. Just standing there with his cock plugged in."

"He's probably waiting for Raoul to get fully into me. Well he can stop waiting because I can feel Raoul's testicles pressing against my vagina so I don't think Raoul can get any further up me."

"When you're right, your right, Christy. Ramon's just started to move. What do you call it when they start screwing you in earnest?"

"Pumping, I think, and if that's the right word then I've got to say that Raoul is now pumping me for all he's worth. Jayde, this thing is enormous. I can't think. He's fucking me for all he's worth and everything is cock and sensation. Say something, Jade!"

"I can't!" wailed Jayde. "I'm getting royally screwed too, you know. How can I talk with this monster thrashing around inside me."

"Jayde, I'm coming. This is so unfair. I wanted a boyfriend to be the first. Not some horny Argentine. I'm coming!" 

"Me too. Oh, this feels so goooood! Why have we waited so long?"

"Jayde! They're not wearing condoms. I can feel Raoul coming inside me and it feels, it feels, Ohhhh."

After a while the girls relaxed. They felt the boys withdraw, and waited to be released from the windows. Then Christy felt something warm and wet carefully wiping between her legs.

"Jayde, what are they doing now?"

"Don't worry, girls," called Ramon. "The parade still has a couple of hours to go so relax and enjoy it. As to what we're doing to you right now, it's half time. We're cleaning the playing field before swapping sides."

The girls looked at each other with horror and anticipation. It looked as though they were in for a long night.



Rio, The Marvelous City



Bené Meirelles was thirteen years old when he first met Tereza Valerio.

As a boy from one of the poorest slums in Rio de Janeiro, Bené had very little choice in how to lead his life. The only way to survive the slums was to turn to crime, or to the police. Otherwise his options were pretty slim. Fishmonger, vegetable seller... all professions that would keep him at the bottom of the slums. 

Despite the contrary belief, crime did pay in Rio de Janeiro. And that was the route that Bené chose to take. The police force had never even been an option. The police were cruel, manipulative bastards. Bené didn't want to be like them. He wanted to own them. 

So by the time Bené was six, he was running around with the more established hoods of the slums. And by the time he was thirteen, he was a more established hood.

Bené would steal, mug, and participate in a lot of drug smuggling and selling. It wasn't for one of his more serious crimes that he got sent to a juvenile detention centre, though. He'd been found vandalising government property, and when he first saw Tereza, a girl of his age with bright green eyes and wavy black hair, he was waiting in the reception area of the court where he had his hearing, she was on the other side. 

Maybe it was bring your kid to work day. Maybe she was there with a relative, but the pretty girl which clearly didn't belong to the slums was definitely not there because she was a juvenile delinquent. 

That didn't stop her eyes from finding Bené's, though. 

If Bené believed in love at first sight, that would have been it. But of course he was a thirteen year old boy. He forgot about the pretty green eyed girl after a few weeks. Maybe even a few days. 

But when she came back into his life at eighteen, Bené instantly recognised her. 

***

At eighteen years old, Bené Meirelles was a well distinguished slum gangster. He and his two best friends controlled what went in, and what went out of the slums. 

They no longer wanted to leave. They were in control and had everything they wanted. Bené had given up on education when he was ten, so he didn't have any friends from school. All of his friends were gang members and slum rats, and of course girls that were interested in him because of his dangerous status and good looks. 

Bené wasn't bad to look at all. He was always dressed in the best fashions, always with expensive accessories. Nothing ever seemed to look bad on his 5"10 form, his slender but muscular body well built. But Bené looked especially attractive on the beach, in his long swimming shorts and oversized sunglasses. The young man's skin was a naturally dark colour, and his face was soft, almost childlike, with very intense brown eyes. His hair fell in black baby dreadlocks, well kept and always looking perfect.

It was very easy to understand just why Bené never had a problem with girls. 

This summer had been a lazy summer, Bené had spent almost every night on the beach. Most of the high school students had recently graduated, so a lot more of the city kids were coming down to the slum's closest beach, a lot of kids he'd never seen before. On this particular night, Bené had been there with a group of about thirteen other boys. Some had been rich kids from the city that he'd met through clubs, and some were kids from his gang. He was never alone, though.

A group of high school kids from the city had apparently been planning an overnight stay on the beach. Like Bené's gang, they had spent the entire day at the beach, and now it was night time. Both groups stared small bonfires, not paying any attention to each other. Bené hadn't even paid any attention to the other group until a small female form, no taller than 5"1, began to walk towards their group, apparently just taking a walk, with her feet in the water.

The young hood watched her curiously, her face shadowed by the night. But the girl had a good body, he could tell from a distance. She was dressed in a short skirt, coming mid thigh, and a loose tank top shirt. It was getting a little colder now, but the water was still warm so she walked with her feet in the waves.

Bené watched her smooth, tanned legs get closer and closer, and grew quiet as the rest of his gang continued to laugh, and smoke, and drink. It was only when he looked to her face though, that Bené got completely silent. 

Shoulder length black curls framed a pretty face. Familiar, but more grown up than the face he'd first seen five years ago. Bright green eyes, and a pretty mouth... Bené recognised her instantly. 

The girl he'd seen at the court, the girl he'd 'fallen in love with' for a whole seven days afterwards. 

She was looking back at him now, too, the water washing over her feet as she squinted her eyes. He had changed a lot since then, but surely she'd recognise him from close up. Now she just looked a little confused as to why this hood was staring at her with his mouth wide open. 

"Hey, hey, wait a minute!" Bené called out almost impatiently, the hoods around him growing quiet and watching their charismatic 'leader' jump to his feet in the sand, and walk over to the petite girl as she looked back at him shyly. 

"You don't remember me, do you?" he asked, smiling an adorable dimpled smile at her as he ran a hand over his hair. "I'm Bené. We never actually met or anything...but years ago...I mean YEARS AGO," he grinned, and his dark cheeks coloured a light pink. "You were sat near me..and um...oh man this is embarrassing. It was in the court... I dunno, maybe one of your parents works there?" The thought that this might not be the girl suddenly hit Bené. Well, that would be embarrassing. And if it wasn't her, he'd probably made such an idiot out of himself that even this pretty girl wouldn't be interested... 

"Oh my God, about five years ago?" Bené grinned at her response. So she recognised him. He smiled and nodded as the pretty girl brought a hand to her mouth and laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. "Yeah, I was waiting for my dad to finish work. I can't believe you remember me though. I can't believe you recognise me!" She looked up at him shyly, her eyelashes unconsciously batting a little bit more. The boy was so attractive. He had been really cute to her thirteen year old self, and now he was there, tall, tanned and so very sexy.

"How could I forget! You still look kinda the same. I mean...you look older... but you're still really pretty," Bené felt a little intimidated by his friends watching them now. Of course all of his friends assumed that he was just trying to get into this girl's pants... which he kind of was, but this was different! She was 'the pretty girl from the courtroom.' "What's your name? I'm Bené," he grinned a charming smile and moved to take her hand, squeezing it lightly. The informal handshake soon turned into him stroking her fingers as the young woman squirmed, embarrassed, but apparently not minding the attention.

"I'm Tereza," she smiled back, eventually pulling her fingers back. "Are you gonna be here for long?" Tereza asked, her pupils dilating as she looked up at the boy's handsome face.

"Yeah... you and your friends should totally join us," Bené nodded, and moved his fingers to point at his own group, who seemed a little more rowdy than the people Tereza was used to. But still, Bené had an obvious bad boy quality that the girl was attracted to, like most girls were. So she nodded slightly, tilting her head to the side.

"I'll have to ask my friends..."

"Oh come on, I've waited for you for five years!" he joked, and caught Tereza's hand as she began to walk towards her group of friends. Tereza only let him hold the tips of her fingers as they approached her group of friends, all of who looked at her with a sly smile now as the tall hood moved behind her, clearly watching her body as she told them of how Bené was an acquittance.

Bené grinned and waved, introducing himself to everyone individually, and insisting that everyone come to join his friends. They had beer, and cigarettes, and loads of food. Everyone eventually agreed, and began moving towards the group of boys, who instantly became very interested in Tereza's available female friends.

***

Four hours later, all of the teens were feeling much more at ease with one another. The class divide had almost vanished, thanks to the crates of beer that both groups had brought with them. Some of Tereza's friends took a special liking to Bené's gang, just like Tereza took a liking to Bené. By two am, she was sat between his legs with her back to his chest as Bené stroked her waist and placed gentle little kisses on her hair. She touched the smooth, exposed skin of his knees and calves a little more shyly, but it was clear that the two teens were very attracted to each other.

"I can't believe I'm with the courtroom boy," Tereza laughed and tilted her head to the side.

Her male companion grinned against the skin of her neck, and kissed her there gently. He was a little more forward than what Tereza was used to, but she'd also never met a boy quite like him. He was definitely the most likeable person she knew. His personality, charisma and good looks made impossible to dislike. Even though he sold drugs, and his friends actually had guns with them.

"What did you think of me?" Bené asked in response, moving his head back so he could look at her. The bonfire they made was still burning, so the heat and light from the flames played over their bodies.

"I thought you were really cute," Tereza smiled, and moved her hand to take his. She stretched their linked fingers out and looked at their hands as she spoke. "My dad said you were one of those 'bad kids' that would probably be dead before they're eighteen. But you had those little dimples, and such big eyes. You were definitely the cutest boy I'd ever seen." When her little body shook from laughter, Bené only shook his head and kissed the back of her neck.

"I hope I still am... and your dad was wrong," the brown eyed boy smiled, as Tereza turned around in his arms and shyly cupped his face.

"I'm glad," she whispered, hoping that nobody was watching them as they moved close together, her eyes closing and her body trembling as soon as their lips touched. Bené's touch was gentle on her waist, and he pulled the black haired girl into his arms, allowing her to relax there. Tereza stroked his hair and ran her nails over the skin of Bené's defining cheekbones as his tongue gently parted her mouth, massaging the pink muscle that came out to stroke his own tongue in response. Bené lapped at Tereza's lower lip when he drew back, her lips glistening and stretched with a smile.

For a moment they only focused on each other but the noise of their friends finally brought them back. Tereza clung to Bené's shoulders, with one of her legs pressing between his unintentionally as they both turned to look at one of Bené's friends who was now insisting that everyone go skinny dipping.

"You want to?" Bené asked the pretty girl in his arms. Tereza giggled, and slid up his body so she was sitting up now, watching in shock as her drunk friends, along with Bené's drunk friends effortlessly stripped their clothes. They were all young, all a little bit intoxicated, so not many of them felt very much shame. Even Tereza was feeling very tempted by the ocean, especially as the others began to splash around, the boys yelling excitedly as the girls screeched.

"You have to go first," she grinned, before standing up and holding her hand out to Bené. The boy took it and pulled her to him again, his fingers sliding underneath of the shirt that she wore now to protect her from the cooling night. Tereza bit into her lower lip as Bené ran his long, masculine fingers up her sides, and slid the shirt off her body, tossing it onto the side. He was still only wearing his swimming trunks, so the city girl just ran her fingers and nails over his broad shoulders and muscular arms as the teen moved down onto his knees, making her giggle.

Bené's fingers undid her shorts, sliding them down her smooth, tanned legs and watching as Tereza stepped out of them, now only in her bikini pants and vest like bikini top. "Go first!" she insisted, laughing as the other teens yelled for them to hurry up.

With a grin, Bené ran towards the water now, stopping only to slide his shorts down past his hips in one swift motion. Tereza laughed, following him now and watching his naked body being embraced by the water. She was a little more cautious about undressing, but the darkness was comforting. Plus the only person that was truly focusing on her was Bené.

He grinned and mouthed for her to come on as he stood waist deep in the water, stroking his toned stomach as Tereza self consciously slid her vest top off, exposing her breasts to a boy she didn't even know that well. A few whistles from some of the others came from the water, but most of the other boys were occupied with wrestling Tereza's naked female friends. So the city girl removed her pants with a deep breath, doing it as close to the water as possible so she wouldn't have to walk too far completely nude.

Tereza gasped, her body not prepared for just how cool the water was against her skin. She was used to Bené's body heat and the warm flames of the fire, and although the ocean was still warm from the sun, it certainly was a shock. Of course, her attention quickly returned to the beautiful Brazilian boy that licked his lips and walked towards her, not saying a word.

Bené grinned as he pulled Tereza against him, the two of them practically oblivious to anyone else as their mouths teased each other. Naked arms wrapped around each other and Tereza moaned gently as Bené's growing erection pressed against her stomach. They kissed again, over and over, sharing the heat of their mouths as Bené walked backwards in the water, not paying attention to anyone that he bumped into. 

Bené's lips were certainly the softest Tereza had ever kissed. She hadn't been with many boys, she had slept with only two and kissed no more than ten. Bené was the best kisser. She melted against his mouth as he grabbed her bottom, trying to force their bodies harder against each other.

"Bené," Tereza whispered, drawing away from him for a moment. She still clung onto his shoulders, and stroked his wet back with trembling fingers. "It's cold," she whispered, and he laughed against her warm skin.

Bené moved his hips against Tereza's stomach, his cock twitching when she pressed herself even harder to him. Most of the others had already got out of the water, since it was cool, but both Bené and Tereza were on fire. His fingers slid under her bottom and he picked her up, encouraging her legs to slid around his waist. The water made it easy, and Tereza felt almost weightless in the boy's arms. Her fingers ran over his damp dreadlocks as she pressed her chest against Bené's neck, not expecting him to bend his head down and capture one of her darkened pink nipples in his mouth. She gasped, feeling her whole body charge with electricity. She was wet now, aching for his touch.

"Bené, lets stop..." Tereza whispered, despite her body begging her to go on, especially when the slick head of Bené's cock traced her entrance. "People are watching..."

The boy leaned back and let her slide down his body, so they could kiss again. He smiled and parted his lips to kiss her. Bené understood. When he looked up he did notice the eyes of several of the boys watching them rather intently. They motioned for him to carry on but the light haired boy shook his head, even though underneath the water, his finger traced Tereza's slit, making her moan into his mouth. "Come on then. Lets warm up."

***

It had just gone six am when the noise around him made Bené shift around in his sleep.

Birds, the sea, people talking... he groaned, nose twitching in displeasure. The morning sun felt good on his skin, but the air was fresh and cool still so he shivered before slowly opening his eyes, blinking a few times. Bené was greeted by a head of dark hair, and for a moment, he lay quite confused, before the previous night's events unfolded and the young hood smiled. He kissed the girl's hair and stretched his arms, bringing her closer to his own body. Some of his gang had left already, some were still sleeping. He lay with Tereza, wrapped up in two thin blankets by a burnt down bonfire.

"Hey, Tereza," Bené whispered, and threw the blanket back from his shoulders. It wasn't long enough anyway, his legs had been exposed all night. "...baby it's morning. Lets go. We'll go back to my place, you can sleep properly." Tereza was clearly reluctant to wake, but Bené stroked her hair and lower back, eventually causing her to groan and roll over onto the sand, her eyes squinting at the rising sun.

"Mmm... what time is it?" she asked sleepily, and extended a hand to idly stroke at Bené's stomach and chest. When she started to wake up, she suddenly remembered last night very clearly, and embarrassment hit her. Bené laughed at her reaction, and wrapped his arms around her shoulders once again, bringing his mouth to her's in a brief kiss.

"Come on, don't go shy on me now," he laughed against her smiling mouth, and their movement started to stir everyone else to life. "...I don't know the time though. Lets go before the morning crowd rushes in. Come back to mine," he insisted again, before sitting up and reaching for his bag. Bené slid on a shirt, and tied up his sneakers before whacking one of his snoring friends on the shoulder. Tereza sat up too and pressed her cheek to his back momentarily. He smelt good, and he felt good too. Even now, without the alcohol influence, Tereza was still very much attracted to Bené. And she was also very tired, too tired to wait for the bus to go back into the city. Although she didn't believe that she would sleep very much, either, if she went to rest at Bené's apartment.

"Okay, lets go," Tereza whispered, more to herself than anything as Bené pulled her to her feet, and they stood for a moment, lost in a gentle kiss. The young woman licked her lips as she pulled back eventually to wake her friends, and explain to them what was going on. Bené, in the mean time, picked up Tereza's bags to carry them. Then he, and nine sleepy boys waited as Tereza said goodbye to her friends, all of whom seemed reluctant to let her go back to the slums with the hoods. But Tereza was persistent, and after countless promises of a telephone call to tell them off her safety, Tereza and Bené began to walk off, hand in hand.

Tereza didn't realise that she held onto Bené's hand that much tighter as they neared the slums. There was barely any room to move, and so much noise came from the little shanty houses. The city girl had never been to a place like this. Certainly Bené knowing everyone was a relief but she was frightened, intimidated by a world she'd never known. Tereza didn't know what to think or what to expect of Bené's home either. So when they reached a block of apartments and Bené said goodbye to his 'men', she held onto him even tighter as he opened the door, and walked in laughing.

"Stop looking so scared," the hood whispered and kicked the door closed before he focused all of his attention onto Tereza again, and captured her face between his hands, leaning his head down to kiss her. "Look at my home, it's not so scary... Forget about what's outside. You're with me, it's okay." Tereza smiled against his lips, embarrassed at reacting so nervously. She lifted a hand to stroke her fingers over his, and kissed him back as she stood on her toes. The apartment was indeed, something she hadn't quite expected. It was a new block, one of the very few the government had forced into the slums. Bené had furniture, a television set, electronics... the decoration was horrible, but it was clear that he had the money, unlike the rest of the slum's occupants.




Rio, The Marvelous City



"You told me you lived with a friend," Tereza whispered against Bené's lips and stole another kiss before he pulled back, and nodded to her statement. He wasn't home though, Bené informed her. "Hmm...good. Lets go to sleep then," the young woman grinned and removed her shoes, as Bené raised a reluctant eyebrow.

"Sleep?" he repeated, before laughing and sliding his arms around the girl from behind. "You're so stupid," Bené grinned and took off his own shoes, before leading Tereza into one of the two bedrooms by the hand. His bed was large, and the clothes on the floor didn't surprise the young woman at all. Bené offered her a drink and she declined, instead sitting on his bed and removing her hoody, as her street thug companion watched her with a smirk. "Good thing I like you," Bené smiled and moved over to the bed, standing between Tereza's slightly parted legs before he tossed his own shirt off and over his head, and joined her on the bed, the two of them eventually sliding under the covers.

Bené brought Tereza into his arms and kissed her twice more before the two of them fell asleep, with the young hoods' lips pressed to Tereza's forehead. They were both pretty tired, having only slept for two hours on the beach. Tereza began to stir four hours later though, and after stretching and blinking a few times, she moved her arms behind Bené's back, linking her fingers there as her lips began to travel over his chest.

"Bené," the green eyed girl whispered. The window was open and street life noise filled the room. But Tereza concentrated only on Bené as she ran her hands up his chest, loving the contrast of his skin against her own. He stirred, and groaned a little, the hood's eyes squinting together even tighter as he reluctantly woke up, mumbling a 'what' in response to the girl that was now pressing her mouth to his chest. "I'm awake now..." she whispered against his skin, smiling before her tongue slid around over his nipple. Bené tensed beneath her velvet tongue, his fingers twitching to life and grabbing her bottom as the dark nub on his chest hardened, and a wave of pleasure ran to the area between his legs.

"Well, you wanted to sleep, when I didn't want to sleep. So we went to sleep, and now I want to sleep," Bené mumbled with a smile, opening his eyes when the girl's slender body pressed up against his own. He smiled at her and leaned down to press his warm mouth against Tereza's, not deepening the kiss just yet. His lips touched hers, and their hands stroked each other's bodies slowly before Tereza rolled on top of Bené, sending any thoughts of going back to sleep straight from his head. His hands reached up to stroke up her sides, caressing her waist before he gently raked his nails up to her back, his skilful fingers undoing the bra strap beneath her loose tshirt. Both were pulled off Tereza's body, and she blushed even as Bené sat up and began to kiss her neck and chest.

Bené kept his eyes opened as Tereza straddled his thighs, their mouths sharing tender, hungry kisses and their fingers linking. He felt her nipples harden against his chest and it made his dick stir, hardening against the fabric of his trousers as Tereza slid herself up and down on his lap, whimpering into his mouth. He could still taste the ocean salt water on her skin as he ran the tip of his tongue over the young woman's collarbone. Tereza felt like she was on fire beneath Bené's touch, and she whispered his name over and over until their mouths found each other again. Bené almost groaned at the pressure of his khaki trousers on his cock, so he shifted around a little in an attempt to get more comfortable. His fingers, in the meantime, ran over the girl's nipples, gently massaging the hard numbs and sending bolts of electricity all over Tereza's body. The black haired girl pressed her chest harder against her lover's hands and Bené grinned against her mouth before guiding her to lie down on the king size bed.

The couple breathed together now, simply watching each other for a moment. Bené couldn't believe how beautiful Tereza was, and how good she felt against his body. He had a lot of experience with girls and women, but his senses had never reacted to anyone like this. His body burned wherever their heated skin touched, and his hear beat so quickly when Tereza started to nibble on his neck. Bené moved onto his side, and slid his fingertips down soft skin until they stopped at the zip of Tereza's skirt. He skilfully undid the zip and button and lay Tereza onto her back before moving down her body and in-between her legs, spreading them after he removed the skirt and underwear from the young woman's slender body. Tereza was almost reluctant to let him see her now and tried to pull the covers over herself, to at least cover her waist and legs but Bené pushed the covers back.

"No, let me see you," the Brazilian whispered in a husky tone, grinning as his eyes washed over Tereza's feminine curves. His eyes widened as he lowered himself to kiss at her stomach, and his hands caressed her inner thighs. The black haired girl shivered under her lover's touch, her body almost instantly arching from the bed as Bené spread her thighs, his own erection growing to full length against his trousers. He moved his fingertips to trace Tereza's moist sex, and blew gently onto the clitoris once it was exposed, making the girl underneath him moan and wriggle. Bené smiled to himself as she curled her legs around his shoulders. She smelled so good, and he wanted to taste her body so badly, so the eighteen year old Brazilian boy moved his mouth to the girl's pussy, the tip of his tongue circling the clitoris as Tereza dug her fingers into the bedsheets. Bené's tongue made small, round patterns over the sensitive button and his right hand stroked her opening, feeling her juices pour over his hand as he began to apply more pressure with his tongue, his mouth bringing her to orgasm. The Brazilian gangster licked from her clit down to her opening, licking her sex clean and running his tongue over his fingers before he crawled back up Tereza's body, watching her breasts move as she tried to regain her breath.

They kissed again and the green eyed girl ran one hand over Bené's dreadlocks affectionately as the other snaked down his chest, and to his trousers. Bené lifted his hips to make room for her hand as she cupped the painful bulge, caressing it and stroking the outline of his hard cock with her fingers. The hood breathed deeply, sighing in relief when Tereza undid his pants and slid them down his hips along with his boxershorts, leaving him to sit up and take them off completely.

Bené smiled and licked over his lips, before he tried to move himself to lie down on top of Tereza again but she quickly leaned her body up, running her hands up his chest and stomach. "Let me see you," the repetition of his earlier words made Bené smile a little coyly, but he paused and let his hands fall by his sides as Tereza's fingers roamed his body. Her eyes were half closed and her lips were swollen with arousal. She licked over her lower lip unconsciously at the sight of Bené's erection. 

She felt herself growing wet again as she wrapped her fingers around the base of the impressive length. Slowly, the green eyed girl began to slide her hand up and down Bené's cock, her other hand working on circling the tip and the slit with her thumb, spreading the pre seed as the boy bit into his lip, moving a hand through her hair. Tereza stroked for a little longer, letting one hand work over Bené's balls before she drew that hand back and lowered herself in-between the dreadlocked boy's thighs, still stroking the hard muscle. Her tongue peeked out carefully, the tip tracing the sensitive head of Bené's cock. Tereza made long circles at first, the young man's sex twitching in a desperate need for more of her mouth. Eventually she moved both hands away and lowered her mouth as far as it would go, then slid her plush lips back up. Tereza's warm, wet mouth continued to move up and down as her lover leaned back, arching his back and releasing a moan as she sped up and let her tongue stroke the head again.

Bené wouldn't let himself come though, so he gently pushed Tereza from him after he felt he could take no more. He pressed his body against her, and they lay together on the bed with the mid day sunlight playing over their naked figures. Bené's chocolate skin looked beautiful against her lighter colour, and their legs entwined so nicely as he regained his composure.

He wanted to be inside of her now.

Bené smiled at Tereza as he sat up, liking the nice, lazy smile he got in return. Bené had never felt the need to make love to a girl before. It was always passion, always raw need, but now he wanted for his body to fit against Tereza's as best as it could. He wanted it to be slow, long and gentle. He was still careful enough to use protection though, and once prepared, Bené slid back into her open arms.

"Bené," the gangster's name suddenly fell from Tereza's mouth as she looked up at him. Her pupils were dilated, almost completely black, and she seemed so blissfully unaware of everything but the boy that prepared to slide into her now. The guns she'd seen around his room, the slums, the gang members.... Tereza could only concentrate on Bené.

Her lips parted as she felt the tip at her entrance, and the boy could only groan as he pushed into her hot, warm flesh, which showed a little resistance but swallowed him up completely. For a moment, they didn't move. They kissed each other, focusing on the kisses and the pulsing of Bené's sex inside of her. He licked his lips as he pulled back out, then pushed inside again. Tereza moaned and tightened her legs around his waist, helping him ease into a rhythm. Bené moved slowly at first, still trying to focus on his lover's face, and her breathing. But small moans of pleasure were leaving her lips, and the way her breasts pushed into his chest, and how her muscles fluttered around his length made him lose that control quickly. Soon enough Bené's tongue was entwining with Tereza's in an out of mouth kiss, and when he began to move harder, and deeper, the petite girl beneath him was groaning in such a way that made him speed up and release a deep groan from the back of his throat.

Bené moved hard and fast, and Tereza only wanted more and more. She felt a pleasure build within her now, spiralling all through her, from her toes to her fingertips as her lover began to tremble. He moved up to support himself with one arm, his dark eyes completely lost in a lust for her. A trembling hand found the spot between her legs, and Bené ran his fingers over the wetness there before his index finger started to stroke and caress her clit, causing her to thrust up. She wanted more and more, and he pushed harder and faster now until her body pulled him even deeper into herself. Tereza squeezed his shoulders, pushed him in as she came, an indescribable pleasure flooding her as Bené pumped in and out of her two, three more times before collapsing on top of the girl in a breathless heap.

For a moment they lay in silence. Tereza had her eyes closed, and all she could see were colourful, spiralling shapes as she ran her hands over Bené's back as he lazily kissed her neck. Tereza almost expected to feel shame for having rushed into sex with the hood, but it didn't come. There was a peaceful connection between them, and when Bené leaned himself up on his arms and kissed her again slowly, all Tereza could do was kiss him back.

"I hope you don't want to sleep anymore," Bené said suddenly, and the green eyed girl beneath him laughed and squirmed, almost missing him inside of her when he'd pulled out and cleaned himself up as best as he could before sliding beside her. They kissed again, but Tereza pulled away when she heard the lock of the front door. Her eyed widened and she moved over to Bené in panic, pulling the blankets over them both as he laughed. The sound of footsteps made her nervous, and when the door opened, and a head peaked in, she hid her face deep in Bené's neck.

"Glad to see that you're alive, man," the intruding young man smirked, before closing the door again. "We have a lot of work to do tonight, B, so keep it down, man, I'm going for a nap." 



Rio



She nodded.

SMACK! His belt hit her right breast. She screamed.

SMACK! Now her left.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Back and forth, from one side to the other. He wasn't hitting her with the same force he used on her behind but somehow it hurt even more.

"These are mine," he said as he hit her. "I can do whatever I want with them. You understand that?"

She nodded, no longer sobbing, having reached a sort of peaceful place. She didn't fight it. She stayed relaxed. As long as she didn't tense up the blows it wasn't so bad.

Finally, Julian tossed his belt to the floor and untied her hands. "Onto the bed," he ordered.

Katie was incredibly turned on. It was a culmination of everything that had happened over the course of the night but it almost became too much as she watched Julian's handsome face, angry and cold, react to the sight of his belt hitting her flesh. It aroused him. And that aroused her.

She was in full obedience mode now, partially out of self-preservation but also because she wanted to come so badly and she knew he would never let her if she continued to be defiant.

He saw the change in her and was pleased. She was getting the picture. 

"On your hands and knees, let's go." His voice was husky, low. He needed to fuck her so badly.

Suddenly he was on top of her and then inside her and she moaned as his fingers found their way to her clit. Eventually her arms couldn't hold her up anymore and she collapsed onto the pillow. Without a word he yanked her legs straight so she lay completely flat on the bed and reentered her cunt with force. She cried out but he ignored her, and he continued to fuck her brutally, his fingers working his clit, until he came. She groaned in disappointment.

"Do you want to come?" He asked a few moments later, still panting as he lay beside her.

She tried not to seem too eager but was unsuccessful. "Please. Please."

"I choose the toy."

"Yes! Okay." She figured it would be the hitachi. He loved to force her to come over and over until she was hypersensitive, and then continue to hold it against her clit for as long as it pleased him to watch her suffer. But at this point, in her state of mind, she did not feel that there could be such a thing as too many orgasms.

She heard him shuffling around, looking for his suitcase, and then she heard him rifling through it. She rolled over on her back and started to masturbate, unable -- or unwilling -- to wait any longer. 

Suddenly there was a loud crack -- a different sound than the belt and even the hairbrush he sometimes used -- and she felt an almost unbearable stinging sensation on her knuckles.

"Did I say you could do that?" Julian asked.

"No."

"Sit up."

She did, and in his hand he had a wooden ruler. 

"What's that for?" Dread had quickly replaced the excitement she felt only seconds earlier.

"Come on." Julian sat on the edge of the bed, feet dangling off, and with her arm he led her to his lap. "Sit down."

She did. She was terrified to refuse. 

He hooked his legs around hers to keep them in position -- wide open -- and held both her wrists tightly in his left hand.

"Try to keep it down." And with that the end of the ruler connected with her clit with such force she felt it sting all the way down her legs. Again. Again. In seconds she was sobbing again, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Please no more. Please."

His speed increased, and he alternated between light swats and heavy blows, and eventually his speed increased so much that it was almost like a steady -- albeit extremely painful -- vibration.

Tension started to build in her stomach. She was getting close and shook her head, unsure if she would be able to handle the pain of having her clit spanked while she came. 

"You almost there?" Julian whispered gently in her ear.

She nodded, ashamed.

He increased the speed of his swats as her orgasm got closer. Seconds later was coming and he, without hesitation, switched to singular brutal blows. The combination of pleasure and pain was unbearable and she thrashed about until she was free from his grasp and had fallen to her knees on the floor. 

Julian got to his feet. "Clean this fucking mess up," he grunted, spent. "Clean your fucking self up. And then write your goddamn paper."



Rio's Romance



Nothing is what it seems and nothing is ever for sure, I learnt that on that day; well afternoon I spent in the arms of my big gruff softie.

I was never meant to go fall, but in truth I guess I knew me; I knew I could never let such a sweet guy walk away. It was not always the case though; there was a time when we were almost bitter enemies.

For years we would go about our lives never really knowing the other existed, of course I knew who you were: but I had never really met you. Likewise I am sure you had heard of me, but had never moved in the same social circles as me... 

And then it all changed, I went to a local council meeting; where you and others were. It was not our first meeting that did it; not even the second or third. It was after one of the worst moments of my life when you walked into my life, and still have not left thankfully!

Hearing that someone you knew passed away is hard enough for most of us to deal with, I am no exception. And like most when it is someone close; I too am often at a loss. But when it is someone you consider like part of your family, any loss is doubly felt.

And this was certainly the case with my Father Christmas, John. He was one of those old-fashioned gentlemen that seem to be dying out these days, he would give you his last cent & could always be relied upon. We quickly became best friends, but in truth it was always more than that. 

He was like my big brother, my grandfather; his death left me with a hole I could never fill. On a night I was due to be honoured by my St. John division, I was trying to deal with this gaping void left by John's passing.

Standing there looking like a lost puppy, I felt alone & totally devastated. And then you walked in, heading in my direction; smiling. One hug was all it took if I am honest, that one hug making all difference to my evening. The next time we spoke was at John's funeral, you could tell I was not at my best; but still I could make a joke with you.

Making some comment about wanting to pass away on the way to see your mistress in your sports car, while being in your late 90's; made me smile. It also let me loose myself & my grief for a little while, giving me a moment to imagine what could be. 

From that moment on, it was at the back of my mind. Every time we met we would hug, a greeting I have to admit I loved. It went on like this for ages, and then it all changed. HE walked, well breezed into my life. The guy I thought would turn out to be the man of my dreams, but clearly I was sorely mistaken.

Still I would see you about in town, a couple of times in the council meetings we would sit together. It would take his screwing up & some bizarre cup of coffee one afternoon for my thoughts to come flooding back. 

Sitting in the hearing I watched how HE treated you with such contempt, the confusion of the feelings mixing with unsure emotions. I wanted to support HIM because I thought it was the right thing to do, but my heart was still with you in support. It broke my heart to think of the way he spoke to you, I just remember not saying anything.

Somehow I found myself sat next to you during the first of many "breaks" that hearing held, and for some reason my hand found a very comfortable position on your knee/thigh!! In truth, and because we were in the company of two councillors and two would be councillors; I never really planned to put my hand there... or allow it to stay for so long.

I half imagined you to have removed it quickly, I guess that was the first time I actually thought about you in "that" sort of light. Lord only knows what you would have thought if you could have seen my thoughts, it certainly made me blush! After you had left and the hearing had died down, the events between us played on my mind a little. Not enough to cause me problems (or you thankfully ~ well I hope not anyways) but enough to make me actually think twice about you.

I have to admit it took me a while to get the balls to ask you for that coffee, and in truth I am not sure if there was a hidden agenda to it; I suspect that this came later... you probably guessed as much. I would (if pressed) probably try to convince you that all I wanted was a hug and your company, and do not get me wrong I like that just as much!

As I sat in the cafe, I admit to being overly nervous; which made me smile... I never planned on the greeting I received from you; or for my nerves to kick in the way they did, I had only planned on coffee and a chat... about HIS treatment of me etc. Again as my hand found made itself comfortable on your leg, the thought of asking if it was okay went through my mind. (Yes I know) I was never thinking this far ahead, just could I get away with stroking your leg!

Never thought you would; 1: mention it. And 2: be okay with it... thanks for putting me at easy by the way! As you left me with two goodbye hugs and that guy I really did not want to be with, the thought flashed through my mind. Just as quickly as it had come, I put it to the back of my mind; but we both knew it would never have stayed there long! I have to admit when I asked you for another coffee, it was on my mind... I spent all that weekend trying to justify in my mind what I was thinking.

I went through a million and one questions and answers, I even tried to convince myself I was only asking you for coffee... man how bad does that sound? I even tried to find the right words to tactfully broach the subject with you, as I sat waiting for you that Monday; my stomach was in knots because of it. I would have probably still been thinking about saying something had you not taken the action you did young man! Might I just say that if you did that to shock me, it certainly worked... you are also the first person (in a long while) to shut me up!

Truth be told, if you had asked me to run around naked I would have agreed; I had no clue how we got from that kiss in public back to yours... I do not even know how the hell I got home! Not that I minded though, still have this stupid grin on my face and spring in my step; I missed both! Is it very wrong that I never felt guilty? For some reason I have this feeling that you did, not sure if you still do... sometimes I suspect that you do.

To be honest, I have no real idea how we got to where we are now; and don't you go saying by train or I will put you over my knee regardless of if your name is The Menace or not... I think we both would agree that there were moments when it was touch and go? For the record, I am of course flattered that you care enough about me to not be like most of the guys I seem to know. And for the record, I meant what I said about being sure and stuff... I know you, and trust you with my life; I would never have gone with you that Wednesday had I not felt comfortable enough with you!

While I might not be the "swinging from the chandlers" type of girl, it was not always like this... as I said, for those two and a bit years; I had some good fun! I am not sure if it was a desire for something more or that the "fun factor" wore off, either way it did change. And like I said, life got all "complicated" and stuff... I got all stressed out and no one to choke! It was not always fun, god some of the guys I met... makes me shudder! But overall, I had fun. 

Somewhere between my "blowing a gasket" and stopping my "fun," I lost all my well-gained confidence and ability to just go out and do it all alone... if that makes any sense? I got to a stage in my life where I was like this bloody limpet, I just could not or did not want to be alone... I would never have been able to go to that club alone. And it is not really somewhere you can ask your folks to go with you, can you? So for that alone, thank you! And I suppose that was part of my point, when you asked if I was sure; I did it because I wanted to... but also because I had someone with me I could trust completely.

So now that I find myself having enjoyed (totally) being naked for a wonderful few hours with you, I can assure you I would like VERY much to do that again! (Can you tell?) I know that this is not exactly what you imagined to be reading, and I am sure this ending will leave you either wanting more; or a little disappointed... but I am a firm believer in the "keep something back ~ leave them wanting more" line of schooling... plus we can compare notes between what really happened; and what we would both have "liked" to have happened. (Now there is a challenge hey?)



Riot



Inspiration: Watchmen

Players: The Comedian (Jeffery Dean Morgan) & Female

Song: Riot – Three Days Grace



Scene 1

The comedian walks down the dark dilapidated canal taking note of the dirt, trash and only god knows what else that liters the ground. His side arm held close, it's his only comfort during these tedious government patrols. What he wouldn't give to either be killing or screwing, anything but this mundane garbage. 

"Waste of my fucking time!" he says

A small leap puts him onto the ledge that at one point in time marked the water level all the while praying that some invisible government lap dog heard him and is offering a challenge. With each additional step his annoyance with the entire situation increases. Suddenly, His foot steps stop, followed by his body tensing against some imagined enemy. After a short pause he begins to walk again listing carefully to the echo of his footsteps tuning his minds frequency to the killer that he knows lies in his subconscious. 

*FLASH*

"What the hell was that?" he murmurs

He feels that something has shifted, not an object that he sees. Not the location he is in, but something. He takes a few tenuous steps and then he sees her. She slides like a snake from behind a corner not far ahead of him. His jaw drops in realization, she's buck naked and standing there like its summer. He likes her petite body and pale frame complemented with perfect hips and breasts. Her bright green eyes shine seductively from behind her long blonde hair. The corners of his mouth turn up to form a ridiculous grin meant to charm. Her expression doesn't change despite his efforts; moreover her eyes are locked onto his with the same destructive expression as before then she begins to speak

"If you feel so empty, so used up, so let down, if you feel so angry, so ripped off so stepped on"

She walks forward with a sway to her hips while her hand slides against the cold concrete wall. Small bits fall here and there after her touch. She reaches him pressing her soft flesh against his muscled side and with her lips only a breath away from his ear she says

"You're not the only one, refusing to back down; you're not the only one, so get up"

She explodes into action and pulls him into her, placing them against the wall. She immediately frees his throbbing cock from his pants even as she spreads her own legs making his entrance all the easier. He finds her slick and ready and hurriedly pushes himself inside; her hot muscles grip him instantly the sensation forces the breath from his body.

"Mmmmm, So Soft" he groans

With each powerful thrust of his hips she mutters breathlessly

"Let's start a riot, a riot, let's start a riot, let's start a riot, a riot, let's start a riot"

Scene 2 (several years later)

As the comedian stairs through his fingers at the torn wall paper and tattered chair across the room his life seems to shrink. With each passing year his sinful nature is becoming harder and harder to control.

"What's wrong with me?" he says every word laced with self loathing.

Memories from the previous night's actions keep flashing through his head, followed by the familiar and excruciating headaches. His calloused and dirty hands slide from his eyes and into his hair as he exhales in frustration.

"FUCK" he yells to himself.

*FLASH*

His head snaps to attention while his eyes begin to search the room. First he searches the open window, nothing. He looks into the decaying bathroom, complete with broken mirror, also nothing. Satisfied he returns to his sitting position on the end of the bed with a relived and somewhat disappointed plop. He then absent mindedly glances at the grubby chair that's nestled in the corner of the room. In this chair sits a pair of slender pale legs followed by those perfect hips and breasts. Her intense and unforgettable green eyes peek from behind her long blonde hair. His sudden erection feels uncomfortable in his pants; it would seem that his body is all too eager to lose itself in another stage of delirium. He scrubs his hand across his face in an attempt to get rid of the feelings of arousal and reluctance that fill his head. She slides her tongue across her scarlet lips and whispers "If you feel so filthy, so dirty, so fucked up, if you feel so walked on, so painful, so pissed off"

He closes his eyes and hangs his head savoring the meaning behind her words when he feels her soft hands sliding up his scared arms. Her hot breath delights his neck as she sighs "You're not the only one, refusing to go down. You're not the only one, so get up"

She quickly shoves him backwards onto the creaking mattress. Her eyes burn with lust and something else he can't place as she leisurely crawls up his body. Using her hands she finds his zipper and frees his aching member from his pants. She guides him to her hot and glistening entrance. She tilts her head forward causing her hair to brush his muscled chest at the same time she gradually impales herself upon him. She begins to quickly ride him back and forth as his coarse hands slid up her sensitive stomach and cup her breasts. He vigorously thrusts upward penetrating her even deeper with each stroke of her own hips. She throws her head back causing her hair to brush against his thigh while exhaling "Let's start a riot, a riot, let's start a riot, let's start a riot, a riot, let's start a riot"

Scene 3 (some years later)

The air smells like dirt and fire as he walks through the sparse jungle looking for his prey. Dead men from both sides litter the ground around him, their soulless eyes searching for nothing in particular. At last he feels in his element, amidst blood and guts, protected by his holster full of grenades and the sawed off shotgun resting comfortably in his right hand. The sound of screams and explosions permeate the air.

"Ah, sweet music" the silly yet seductive grin spreads across his face.

A land mine explodes nearby sending a cloud of earth and more bodies into the air. The sudden silence that follows depresses him like a swift kick to the nuts.

*FLASH*

"Aw, sweet" he says as he closes his eyes and licks his lips. He has slowly come to terms with his sinful and destructive nature and welcomes his trysts with his imaginary counter part. He opens his black eyes to a sorely missed sight, a petite body and pale frame complemented with perfect hips and breasts emerges from the dust. Her brilliant green eyes not longer lit with the desire for destruction but with hunger for him become visible from behind her long blonde hair that is blowing in the wind. The sway of her body while she walks is eclipsed only by the shameless smile that lights her face and the words that come from her mouth. "If you feel so empty, so used up, so let down, if you feel so angry, just get up" she stands in front of him with her small hand wrapped around the hilt of his shot gun her green eyes daring him to make the first move. As his black eyes bore into hers, he then rasps

"Let's start a riot, riot, let's start a riot."

All the while his hands caress her face and then slowly slide down her upper body to her waist where he reaches around to cup her bottom. He throws her to the ground where he nestles himself between her legs. He grinds against her while he scrapes his scruff against her smooth cheek nibbling her ear. He tears his pants releasing his sensitive cock and slowly presses into her. The sensation of her tight and wet around make him harder while the feeling of her nails on his back tightens his balls in anticipation. Her moan of ecstasy removes his self control as he forces himself deeper inside with each thrust. His pumping becomes a frenzy when she tightens around him, their climax almost complete. He's close as his hands grip her waste almost the point of pain they scream "Let's start a riot, a riot, let's start a riot, let's start a riot, a riot, let's start a riot" 



THE END



Riot



(This story is a companion piece to others on this site. The character of Trish has appeared before in "Her Hottest Halloween", and "The Hills Are Alive". Her sexcapades continue once more.) 

*

Always on the lookout for inspiration for her sexual adventures Trish Stark was seeking a new way to push her inner boundaries. Something risky, risqué, and an adventure that would push her hard up against the wall of her Self Control.

It was a rare day that Trish ever saw television, it simply wasn't part of her life in any meaningful way, but on one of the rare occasions when she was near a T.V. she saw an amazing video for a wonderful song; Madness by the British band Muse. 

It was sexy in a strange way and she filed it away knowing at some point the idea of public sex on a train platform might be possible.

What she didn't know was that within months of seeing the video she would re-create it even closer than she could imagine. 

Trish was getting horny, her body itching for some hard use, her mind clawing for a way to test her will-power and push her spiritual limits. She needed an adventure. It had been weeks since she's had sex and this self-imposed celibacy was growing dull. 

Incidentally Trish also absorbed the idea that a big protest was brewing in her town. It was to protest the human rights abuses going on in Russia against LGBT people. The big G20 summit was happening in Russia and the world was gearing up to make a lot of noise and try to get world leaders to discuss the abuses while in the very country doing the abusing. 

Trish was in no way a political person, but even she felt what was going on in Russia was horrible and the idea of the protest garnered her attention.

Then the penny dropped. 

There was going to be some heated protesting going on. People were going to be on both sides of the debate and there was bound to be some anger, and perhaps even some violence. 

The video she had watched showed a couple kissing and groping during a riot and it was that visceral, human sexual response to violence that had gotten her excited about the video. Could she find a way to recreate that experience for herself?

Did she dare try and seduce a protesting man in the midst of a potentially violent encounter, with police all around.

She was Trish Stark. Of course she dared. 

This challenge to her Self Control and the mastery of fear wouldn't take much planning, just a few simple props, but the event itself would be as challenging and as dangerous as anything she had yet tried. Just thinking about it made her as horny as anything she had done before. 

The day of the protest, September 3, the day before the summit in Russia, finally arrived and Trish had booked the day off work, and skipped school, as had many of her colleagues. 

Dressed as much like the woman from the video as she could Trish wore a black two button blazer, no shirt or bra under it, her small firm breasts peeking out from beneath the lapels as she moved. Beneath she wore a tiny, stretchy, black skirt that was shorter in the hem than the blazer. From any distance other than immediately next to her she looked nude under the jacket, and looking at herself in the mirror before she left had made her feel sexy and slippery between the legs.

On her feet she wore utterly impractical high heeled shoes. They added three inches to her five foot five height and without her years of dance training, and proficiency in martial arts she would have toppled over trying to walk in three inch heels. 

To hide her identity, thus separating her regular life from the sexual adventurer she was in her spare time, she wore a long brown wig over her light blonde hair. The wig was loose and natural looking. Trish spent money on her disguises, her anonymity precious to her. 

To cover her face she painted her skin to look like a little girl's doll, giving her a creepy, hyper-sexualized dolly look that was actually pretty disturbing. Trish was very good with make-up and the porcelain kewpie doll make-up was very well done, but still somewhat off-putting none-the less. 

Thusly attired she made her way to the afternoon protest. 

She drove there, parking a few blocks from the protest, near a subway station in case she needed a quick escape. She rode the train the two stops to the protest location outside the Russian consulate. 

The train was full. Many of the other passengers were clearly headed to the protest as well, as indicated by their choice of clothes. There were a lot of men dressed in camouflage, and heavier, thicker clothes than this time of year would necessitate, and there were a plethora of backpacks with Peace signs. 

The looks she got were amusing to say the least. She could see that most people were immediately drawn to her exposed skin. Her bare legs looked great, as they should, given how much work she put into looking her best physically, but her bare chest peeking from beneath the lapels of her blazer drew the most attention. Her slim build meant that any movement exposed at least one pink nipple to the eyes of someone on the train.

However as soon as they noticed her odd face, the heavy cutsie make-up obscuring her features they began to look confused. 

Before anyone could approach and ask what she was doing the train arrived at the proper stop. Excited people disembarked and in the press of bodies Trish felt a few hands brush her legs and bum as men used the close quarters to press against her unnecessarily. 

It got her excited having all these men touching her and looking down her jacket to see her breasts. 

Everything was going perfectly.

As the crowd climbed the stairs and began to leave the subway station Trish found more space around her, and she took a good look around the street where the protest was happening. 

The crowd was big, but not huge. Perhaps two thousand people, mostly young, wearing things ranging from Anonymous Masks, Ski Hats with face-masks, and gas masks, to simple t-shirts and jeans. Some protesters clearly thought things were going to get violent, yet most seemed calm and peaceful hippies. 

Trish was also not the only person dressed in a costume. There were many painted faces, some Styrofoam statues of Lady Liberty, and angels and even a Gumby. 

There were brightly painted signs both for and against homosexuality and freedom to marry and all the hot button topics around LGBT groups. The atmosphere was loud and excited. Everywhere she looked there were policemen dressed in riot gear. 

No matter what, this was going to be an interesting day. 

For the next half an hour Trish wandered amid the crowd looking at the various men there appreciatively. And they in return ogled her back. 

All the political tension was building between a group of anti-gay bigots and some trouble-making young men dressed for war. They yelled back and forth and the speeches planned for today were being drowned out by the name-calling and slogans being chanted. 

Relishing the challenge of distracting some of these polarized people Trish moved in and out of the milling mob getting herself seen. 

There were a few men in the Warriors group that seemed very interested in her. There was more than one man in a gas mask, or balaclava who broke off chanting, or waving signs to stare at her as she strolled by. 

All Trish was trying to do is get into their heads. She didn't know how she would do it, but she needed to separate a few of these guys from the herd in order to get properly fucked by them out in public. Her plan only covered being seen and then luring a few guys away and having a blast. She wanted risky public sex, not a certain arrest. 

The situation, however, took a turn when some of the anit-gay bigots began to howl curses at her, calling her a slut, a Jezebel, a harlot and generally targeting her for hatred given how much she excited their poor little animal brains. 

Trish was momentarily confused. She hadn't been paying any attention to the other line of protesters and now that they were targeting her she was the centre of attention. 

The militant protesters began to defend her and scream back.

Then objects began getting thrown and in moments a physical altercation took place between a small group of sign waving zealots on both sides. 

Trish was almost overrun as the crowds of opposing sides drew together to hurl insults, fruit, rocks and even themselves at each other. A young man of the Religious Right grabbed her arm tightly, as if he were going to make a citizen's arrest. 

Instinct kicked in and Trish immediately twisted his hold into a hold of her own, and applied enough pressure that she brought him to his knees in an arm bar as she neatly stepped behind him. He howled in pain and fear drawing the attention of his friends.

Suddenly Trish was surrounded by screaming people, some of whom tried to grab her. Letting go of the first assailant Trish ducked and weaved attempting to escape the ring of people trying to contain her. Hands reached for her and tried to restrain her and she used her martial art training to bat away their attempts. 

Just as she pushed past the last ineffectual clutch at her jacket, a collection of gas-mask wearing men arrived and began punching the religious protesters and driving them back and down. 

One gas mask wearer stood apart, his body rigid with tension, but clearly he wanted to be involved somehow. 

Trish reached for and took his hand seeing the first opportunity to cull from the herd. 

Even as her heart raced, and her body heated with fear, she still held firm to her plan of getting fucked by at least one anonymous man during this protest. 

Leading him away she glanced at him trying to determine as many detail about him as she could. 

He was young, judging by his dress, and the little of his face she could see through the mask was all eyes, wide with fear and surprise. His skin was all covered so she assumed he had planned on getting into some kind of fight, but he hadn't, so maybe he was new to this level of militant protest. 

Behind them screams were getting louder and the situation looked to be getting very intense. Voices blared on bullhorns, and the police were trying to separate the two skirmishing groups. 

The protest had been staged in an open plaza and Trish dragged her companion to an alleyway that opened onto the plaza. As soon as she had any cover what-so-ever she let go of his hand and faced him squarely. 

"That was intense." She said. She had to raise her voice to be heard over the yelling of the thousands strong crowd. People jogged past them, a few feet away on the sidewalk, but Trish didn't care. 

The man she had pulled here bean to raise his gas mask and Trish reached out gently and stopped him.

"I want you to fuck me with that on. Right here." She unbuttoned her jacket baring her small, delectable breasts to him. She lifted his hand to one supple mound and his fingers automatically began to massage her sensitive tit. 

In return Trish reached for and grabbed hold of his cock through his jeans. She massaged the length of him and felt that his prick was quite small. 

A little disappointed, she mentally switched gears to accommodate having a small man and not wishing for a big cock to play with. 

He lifted another hand to her chest and used both to knead her pliant orbs. Trish unzipped his pants and fumbled around trying to pull his cock out of his underwear and out through his fly. His pole was short and tiny his balls almost non-existent. She had never felt a cock quite like his. 

Once she had managed to pull what there was out into the air she looked down and saw it was very pale and shriveled looking. Then it occurred to her that he was terrified. 

Once more she looked into his mask and saw large white eyes staring back at her. 

Yes, he was very frightened, his body was reacting to the violence and his penis was shrinking to protect itself. She smiled, indulgently. Poor guy. Was he more afraid of violence, or her? 

Trish dropped to her knees before him, and opening her mouth, holding her lips slightly above his cock, she looked up to be sure she had his attention. 

She did. 

His huge eyes were locked on her mouth, anticipating what she was about to do. 

Slowly, lovingly, she engulfed him in her warm, wet cavity and she heard his muffled groan through his mask. His penis was cool to the touch, and it took a moment for her services to overcome his fear. Yet soon enough she felt him respond to her mouth. As her tongue caressed his softness, she felt him grow warm to the touch, and then fill with blood, swelling to full length as she bathed him with her mouth. 

Near-by the sounds of the crowd grew louder, and angrier, meanwhile Trish knelt in the grungy alley sucking this stranger's cock, thrilled to be doing exactly what she had hoped to be. 

Trish never tired of having a hard cock fill her mouth, and the danger and exposure of this scenario had her pussy thrumming with desire. 

Now that he was hard Trish ran her contented mouth up and down his length, tasting every part of his erection. It turned out he was plenty big, larger than average by a bit and as his balls returned from their hiding place up in his body she saw a hefty pair that had her anticipating a tasty load of cum. 

Stroking his shaft with her hand while massaging his sack with her other hand Trish licked his knob and ran her lips over the bulb of his tip teasing him with multiple sensations. 

Trish had learned from experience that it was far better to get men off quickly in these risky situations. She found it far more satisfying to have them cum quickly than hazard being interrupted and neither of them getting off. 

Working him over with that in mind she ran her mouth all along the length off his pole swallowing him deeply, before pulling back and licking his head. She put everything she had into bringing him to climax as quickly as she could. When his hips began to move, driving him in and out of her delicious grip she knew it wouldn't be long before she tasted his spunk.

Letting her hand fall from his balls she began to play with her tingling clit and she shuddered as she touched the responsive little nub of flesh. 

In the spirit of challenge; the game of self-control, Trish decided that she would not cum this encounter. She had pulled this guy far more easily than she had anticipated, and she wanted to try for another to make it more demanding. 

And after a few moments of blowing him, when she knew he was close to cumming, she chose to make it one step harder by having him cum on her face. Having a load of sperm on her features would make her less appealing to any other dudes looking to fuck her, and that impediment made her even wetter. 

Trish absolutely loved having a hot, wet load of cum on her face. More than tasting it, or feeling it fill her snatch, Trish loved the oozing weight of a man's seed dripping down her skin. It had been like this for as long as she could remember, and she had never seen a reason to deny herself that thrill when so many men seemed preferred it on some level. 

Thus as her random lover began to buck and shudder with his approaching climax she focused on his tip, urging to climax while preparing to pull him from her mouth and aim his ejaculation over her face. 

When he finally unleashed his jism Trish felt the first spurt land on her tongue and began to breathe heavier with the first tingles of her own orgasm. Pulling him from her oral grip she held him over her open mouth and stroked his shaft. 

Sympathetic tremors quaked her lithe frame as his seed pulsed from his knob and out over her face. Pumping him and licking his tip Trish prolonged his pleasure for as long as he was willing to receive her attention. His climax went on and on as he spent himself over her lips, chin and up over her forehead. 

Joyfully accepting his gift Trish had a series of tiny orgasms that made her smile as his cum rained down over her. She never tired of feeling the hot splash of sperm glazing her skin with sticky love.

Before she could begin to suck him off again, to retain his erection for further fun the tone of the crowds yelling grew more tense. It seemed to shift from anger toward fear. 

Looking out of the alley toward the protest Trish saw riot police with shields pushing the two factions apart. She saw truncheons being used and people falling to the ground beneath the swinging weapons. 

This was now a full scale riot. 

"Holy shit!" Her lover exclaimed, and began tucking himself back into his pants. "We have to get out of here."

"Yes." Trish said dreamily, not at all caring whether he heard her. The next phase of her plan became clear. She was going right into the fray to see if anyone would play with her. This was so similar to the video that had inspired her that she simply had to take the opportunity to try and recreate it. 

She was going to try and draw the rioters down into the subways tunnels. 

She stood, leaving her jacket open, the lapels parting to expose her toned belly and flash her bare breasts whenever she moved. Licking her sunk stained lips and tasting delicious cum she shuddered with the desire for more. 

Trish felt hypnotized with passion. The lure to give herself to the crowd of men scuffling nearby both frightened and thrilled her. 

Wandering off, not looking to see what became of her lover Trish wove her way through the people fleeing the riot into the thick of the maelstrom. 

Randomly men broke off fighting around her, and when they did many were momentarily distracted by her blatant sexual offer. Yet the efficient police were driving a wedge between the opponents and forcing combatants to the ground. 

Tear gas was fired into the thickest part of the fray blanketing the battle in thick chemical smoke that burned the tear ducts, throat and nasal passages of those without breathing gear. 

Trish stopped her approach when she saw that, and looked to see if anyone was running toward the subway station.

Many were fleeing that way, so she circled around the surging mob and made her way over to the stairs leading down. 

She wasn't close to the tear gas, but she could feel its burn, and she felt tears run down her face, mixing with the sperm already there. 

Most protesters who weren't here for violent action had fled already, so Trish found herself one of very few people without some form of protection from harm. Because of this she picked her way cautiously through the riot, avoiding conflict, looking for others not directly involved in a skirmish. 

She saw many but few noticed her sexuality. They were scanning for threats, which she was not. Some few of them noticed her naked chest, but it didn't seem to register what they were seeing. 

Finally she made her way to the stairs down into the subway system and she jogged down the stairs as fast as her high heels would allow. 

Down below there were fewer screams and less hubbub, but what noise there was echoed loudly in the enclosed space. 

Trish walked along the platform as men ran past her, some seeking escape, some seeking enemies. 

Positioning herself next to a thick tile covered support column Trish scanned the crowd for a likely sexual partner. Behaving as if she were in a bar looking to hook up Trish casually stood with her back to the wall, one foot pressed to the pillar, her hands roaming her belly, thighs and squeezing her bare tits occasionally as she offered herself to the rioters. 

As man after man passed her by without stopping, Trish knew she would have to be more aggressive. She reached for the sleeve of a passing man in an anonymous Guy Fawkes' mask and tried to stop him. He ignored her and shrugged off her grasp. 

Next she called out to a passing man, but he only glanced at her confused. 




Riot



A police officer in full riot gear hesitated, looking at her through his gas mask, and then moved on, dismissing her.

Maybe she couldn't get what she wanted here. Maybe the violence was all too intense for these men to think about sex. 

Rising to the great challenge, she lifted her skirt and began to play with her bald pussy, slipping a finger into her slit and rubbing up and down while massaging a tit with the other hand. 

That worked. Two rioters spotted her and stopped running to watch her play with herself. They were about fifteen feet away from her and they nudged each other and spoke with their gas masked head close together. 

One looked around for threats, and then began to walk over to her, closely followed by his partner. 

Trish parted her legs wide, pulling her skirt way up over her waist showing them every inch of her legs and her exposed sex. When they were closer, their interest clearly piqued, she pulled off her jacket exposing her entire torso. 

Feeling vulnerable, aroused and terrified Trish turned her back to the men and stepped away from the pillar. Letting her weight fall forward she leaned on her hands thrusting her ass out toward them offering her pussy to them. 

They moved right up next to her. Gloved hands began to stroke her skin, making her tremble with need. Turning her head to look at them she saw them gazing at her offered body through their masks. One man pulled off his glove and slipped a finger into her dripping wet sex. Trish moaned and gripped him with her inner muscles. 

The man began to fuck her with his finger as his friend removed a glove as well, grabbing her hanging tits with his bare hand. 

"Fuck me. Both of you please fuck me." She shouted over the noise of the riot. 

People still ran here and there, and the police fought protesters and tried to subdue the greater numbers of still battling opposition. Outmatched, they had little energy to spare for Trish's lewd behavior. 

For now. Her time was severely limited. 

Reaching a hand back to the man groping her chest she began to massage the bulge between his legs. Like the last guy he felt small, but now she had figured out why, and undeterred she attempted to bring his manhood to life.

The man using his finger to plum her depths, began to stroke her thigh and massage her buttocks with his free hand. He was clearly beginning to enjoy himself and Trish lifted her butt higher and spread her legs further, encouraging his pillaging of her charms. 

The penis under her hand began to stir and she anticipating sucking it soon. Her chest felt warm and yummy as the man caressed her small breasts. His hand roamed over her smooth flesh, cupping the weight of her mounds in his palm and squeezing gently. 

The men removed both gloves and their smooth warm skin stroked and explored her own warming flesh as they grew emboldened by her squirming encouragement. 

Trish was in heaven as she anticipated what would happen next. This challenge was both her most daring, and her most foolhardy and that dangerous mix was making it one of the most titillating. 

The cock she was groping was now at full hardness and Trish did her best to unzip the man's pants and pull out his cock while bent over awkwardly, offering herself. When it grew too difficult she turned and bent to her knees and used both hands to free the straining boner trapped in denim. 

When she pulled her hungry pussy from the other man's hand she felt forlorn, but she lived to please, and so once one cock was free she immediately began to free the other. 

The owner of the first freed cock began to stroke himself while Trish struggled to release the other. Then when both men had their cocks out Trish used both her hands and mouth to reward them for approaching her. 

Taking first one then the other in between her lips she sucked and stroked them both to trembling heights in the midst of a riot. 

Both men moved nice and close to her, shielding her somewhat from view, but her bare skin and intimate position were obvious to any who cared to look. Luckily for them no-one seemed all that interested in three people having sex while fists, rocks and batons were a very real threat to life and limb.

Both her new lovers had fine specimens of maleness. Each were six to seven inches long and fairly thick. As she gulped and slurped on them she felt a familiar sense of completeness and belonging. Trish never grew jaded about how much she loved sucking cock. She never took it for granted. Something inside her felt whole when she was engaged in pleasing a man. 

In her normal life Trish didn't seek male attention. Men found it too hard to see past her physical beauty and that limitation on their part bored her. But when it came to sex Trish was at her best when actively gratifying a male. It was a holdover from an abusive childhood, but she looked at it as an enhancement to her life, not a detriment. 

There were times when her deepest-self worried about these games of Self Control. Trish certainly questioned her own sanity when she considered how dangerous her life could get at times like this, but as soon as she had a cock in her mouth all consideration of consequence fled and she thought only of the reward. A hot spray of sticky cum drenching her. Nothing else mattered. 

So it was that she put her all into pleasing these men. She knelt on the cool tile of the subway platform and worked both cocks with her expert ministrations bringing them to the heights of passion. 

When she felt them getting close to climax she pulled back and went to her hands and knees, taking one firm cock with her, pulling her lover with her grip on his tool and she swallowed him once more when she was properly positioned to take both men at once. 

Offering her firm ass to the man left behind she suckled the one man while reaching back and spreading her pussy lips for the other. 

Easily picking up her obvious clue the other man positioned himself at her entrance and eased into her steaming slit. 

As she was filled by cock for the first time in weeks Trish moaned her need over the firm member lodged in her throat. Voracious with longing Trish began to push back on the cock entering her, urging him to plunge in and fuck her hard. 

Once she had forced him to bottom out in her tight grip Trish bucked and humped back at him while feeding the other man's cock into her face. She gripped the man in her mouth with lips and one hand and pumped him eagerly into her drooling orifice. Trish was on fire, desperate to be hammered violently by these men. She wanted their fucking to match the intensity of the riot around them. 

Quickly the men drew confidence from her obvious desire to be aggressively fucked and they started to pound into her. The man fucking her cunt drove himself into her , his belly slapping her upturned ass and his cock slamming into her cervix making her cry out with delight. 

The man using her mouth also started propelling himself in and out of her mouth assertively, his balls slapping her chin lewdly making her wriggle with lascivious arousal. 

Both men instinctively began to plunge into her at the same time, filling her so completely that Trish began to feel the beginnings of her climax approaching only moments after being penetrated. 

All around them the riots continued. Policemen shouted at people to stop and lay on the ground. The meaty thud of clubs being driven into flesh echoed the slap of belly to butt as Trish was as ferociously assailed in one way as the protesters were assaulted in another. 

Knowing this would be brought to a potentially violent end any moment Trish felt the beauty of the transience of this encounter. Any second it could end as a police officer arrested them. Using the fragility of the instant Trish gave herself over to her pleasure and began to cum. 

A warm, thick wash of bliss emanated from her clit and spread out over her body. Working out from the deep thick muscles of her inner thighs it radiated outward in waves that washed further and further away from her centre and finally encompassed the whole of her being.

Wailing her rapture around the dong slipping in and out of her gaping mouth Trish felt tremendous delight as every moment became more perfectly filled with gratification. The longer her pleasure peaked the more she enjoyed having these men use her body. Every cell opened up like a flower in the desert opened to the rain. 

Pure elation cascaded outward from her pussy enveloping the whole of humanity. She felt glutted on delight and she spilled over the remnants in a warm flow of sticky fluids. Shuddering and bucking she came and came, her body too small and frail to contain this amount of euphoria. 

And yet there was more pleasure to experience. Suddenly the man fucking her blissful pussy began to fill her clenching core with sperm. When she felt the warm gush of his seed Trish discovered that the limits of her physical being had only just begun to be expanded.

Light exploded behind her eyes as her brain registered the thrill of being pumped full of cum. All her sexual life she had gloried in a man's orgasm. The hot thick spill of jism delighted her like nothing else. Already primed fully to revel in her pleasure Trish felt her delight swell to engulf her in even greater waves of ecstasy. 

Clutching at the moving cock ensconced in her quivering cunt, Trish tried to hold her lover still so she could revel in his swollen manhood , but he continued to move, driving into her and pumping his load into her deepest recesses. 

Desperate to feel every throb of his member she clamped her strong pussy over him and squeezed as hard as she could. Forced to release the other cock from her mouth Trish willed her body to hold her other lover still needing him wedged deep inside her ravenous core. 

It worked. With one last thrust the man found he could no longer pull out and his climax came to a final euphoric culmination. His fingers dug deeply into her buttocks and she could hear his muffled groan as he spilled his last drops into her contracting quim.

Her climax was a ferocious monster that tossed her helplessly. Shuddering violently as her orgasm thrashed her in a delightful grip, Trish languished in the jaws of a beast beyond her control. 

Then, after a prolonged spasm, Trish was finally once more the one in control of her limbs. As she unclasped her firm grip on the man in her pussy she felt him pull backward, not out, but outward and this sensation, minimal though it was, sent her off on another climax just as violent as the last. 

Helplessly she convulsed with paroxysms of joy, her body supremely fulfilled by this encounter. Heat burned in her slot as her lover moved in and out slowly, easing himself gently out and back into her velvety grip. Yet even this much stimulation was too great, and her overcharged body throbbed with passion. 

Then her other lover began to stroke her face with his damp tool. She opened her mouth for him, beyond reason or caring. As his knob passed her lips she felt an even deeper climax contract her body in a tightly coiled grip. 

All her life Trish had wondered how far she could push her body in these sexual encounters she subjected herself too, and today she found a hidden depth to sexual gratification she had never encountered before. 

This dangerous setting, so public, so sordid and deviant had unlocked an even greater capacity for pleasure in her than anything she had known before. 

Degenerately she rutted like an animal on the filthy tile of the subway floor while all around her humanity thrashed in polarizing conflict. As other members of her species struggled with each other Trish indulged in her basest carnal desires and achieved bliss amid their torment.

And she was not alone.

Her mouth suddenly began to fill with delectable sperm. The man fucking her face spilled his gooey jizz onto her thrashing tongue and once more the pleasure of her partner drove her deeper into the veiled pit of pure delight she could never fully remember after. 

As warm cum filled her mouth and she guzzled it like ambrosia her body pulsated with pure delight at having achieved her goal. All she ever wanted was this reward, this wet, viscous sign of approval. A man's seed signified his acceptance of all the sordid, unsavory conduct she engaged in to test her Self Control. 

Exulting in her reward Trish quaked with physical gratification as she drank his cum. Approval splashed over her tongue thrilling her with wicked tribute. 

Swallowing her reward Trish let the slippery dong fall from her lips as she gasped for air, her body spent from her exertions. 

A pair of struggling opponents stumbled by just then and jostled the trio of sexual partners. 

Her lovers hustled to disengage from the panting woman they had just fucked. Zipping up they scrambled to their feet suddenly reminded of what was going on around them. 

Trish beyond the ability to care at that moment rested her head on her forearms and, with her ass still in the air, gasped to catch her breath after her debilitating orgasms. 

Abandoned by her erstwhile paramours Trish tried to gather the remnants of her sense of self-preservation, tattered to ruins by a series of explosive climaxes. All she really wanted was to stay here, ass up, and either rest or continue being fucked.

Yet she forced awareness back into her exhausted body and once more became aware of the conflict around her. Violence surrounded her. Struggling men fought each other mere feet away in clumps and pairs of bodies. 

Trish summoned her willpower and coerced her tired body to rise. She crawled to her jacket and used the pillar to struggle to her feet. 

Chaos roiled all around her as the police attempted to part fighting protesters and apprehend rioters. 

Leaking fluids from her still thrumming pussy Trish pulled the jacket over her torso and then tugged her skirt over her groin. Then she staggered along the platform, avoiding thrashing men and running people. Aiming for the stairs back to the street she tottered along slowly, careful to negotiate her way past fighting men. 

As the aftereffects of her tremendous series of orgasms left her body she grew more acutely aware of danger and moved more quickly. 

Occasionally someone would look at her, assessing the risk she posed, and then seeing her smeared make-up, and open jacket would pause and really look at this tussled, stained woman walking slowly through the combat. 

Trish made no attempt to hide her bare chest and if anyone had approached she would have happily fucked them. That was why she had come here and she had not reached the limit her Self Control demanded she test. 

Yet no-one did approach, they were understandably far more worried about the riot. 

When at last she emerged above ground she saw the carnage that had occurred in the plaza. Broken glass, smouldering wreckage and spent tear gas canisters littered the street. 

Here and there the police hauled away combatants, and the protesters attempted to stop them. 

There were a few broken windows, but it appeared that no looting had happened, or was happening at present anyway. 

Trish began to walk in the direction her car was parked a couple blocks away, her mind nearly numb from the shock of the violence going on around her and the stupefying orgasms she was still recovering from. 

Before she had gone a block she encountered three men in once tidy button down shirts and khaki pants. They were disheveled and had some blood here and there indicating they had been in a fight of some sort. 

They gaped at Trish, her legs glazed with her cum and the seeping sperm of a lover, her face, once painted like a doll looking smeared and vulgar her breasts bared lecherously. She saw the moment that one of them recognized her. One of the men suddenly looked furious; his face darkening and his eyes blazing. 

"Look at that whore! Look at that slut parading around here like a harlot. She was the one that started all this!" The three men began to walk toward her. 

Recognizing this man in return she recalled him screaming at her from the line of bigots when things began.

The leader was continuing his tirade, working the others up to a fever pitch and she saw him as clearly in those first moments as he saw her. This man feared and hated women because they brought out in him feelings he was powerless to contend with. 

Every word he said confirmed this.

"Behold the spawn of Satan herself come to lure us with her lustful looks and bared flesh!" He cried as if speaking to hundreds, not two. "In days of old she would have been stoned to death here on the street for looking so wantonly!" 

Instinctively Trish assessed the best reaction to give them. These men were fueled by hatred and fear, they had obviously already engaged in violence today, and were ready to do so again. She needed to turn this violence into sex rather than a beating. 

If she wanted this to be a sexual encounter not a wholly violent one she needed to get off the street. Looking around she saw a worn derelict brick building to her immediate left. The door was open and the interior dim and grungy looking. 

Trish began to walk that way as the men moved toward her. They followed her from a distance and she used a combination of fearful movement and sexual provocation to pull them after her.

The loud mouth stepped ahead of the others. "She seeks to tempt us brothers! Do not submit." He called.

Poised on the threshold of the door Trish called out to them.

"You guys wouldn't know what to do with a woman if she offered herself to you."

As she spoke Trish removed her jacket once more, exposing her perfect breasts to their wide open eyes. When she saw them gaze at her firm, proud breasts she let one hand brush over her soft flesh.

Then she slipped inside the derelict building and prayed they followed her.

Inside it was dirty and dingy and smelled musty. Someone had kicked the door in and the remains of the doorjamb littered the nearby floor.

Immediately to her left a room opened up and the floor was littered with debris and the refuse of the many junkies who had used this room to do whatever drugs currently gutted the poor. A stained mattress caught her eye and she shivered excitedly thinking about having three men take her on that filthy bed.

Behind her the men arrived. Trish walked over to the bed on the floor and tossed her jacket nonchalantly. 

Stepping out of her skirt Trish revealed her swollen, glistening slit to their dumbfounded gaze. 

"You church boys got any balls? You think you can handle a real woman, or would you rather kneel in front of your God and beg?". 

The leader ran up to her and Trish went loose ready to absorb the strike she saw coming. She could have avoided it, or countered with a move of her own, but instead she took his slap to the face, turning with it to lessen the effect. 

Even so the crack of his hand on her cheek echoed in the stillness of the room. It hurt and made her eyes water but she had endured far worse in the S&M dungeons she had visited. 

Everyone froze waiting to see what happened after such a brutal slap. Trish slowly turned back to look at her attacker and she smiled and reaching out cupped his cock in her hand. 

"Did that get you hard big boy? Does hitting women make you feel manly?" Stroking his cock she felt that in fact he was somewhat hard. 

He didn't move her hand, but grabbed her shoulders and shook her. 

"Jezebel, you will not tempt the likes of me with your lewdness."

"Go on hit me again, show me how much of a man you are." Her hand gripped his shaft and squeezed.

His hand came up and once more she went loose to absorb the impact. Another slap rocked her head back and to the right, her left cheek stinging from the blow, but it was still less than she could take. 




Riot



She looked up at him, tears leaking from her eyes, and she smiled into his snarling face. The cock in her hand stirred as she made eye contact and she kneaded the still pliant flesh. 

"Oooo. Hitting me really turns you on doesn't it? Here spank my saucy ass." Turning she pressed her buttocks into his stiffening member and ground her ass on him. He didn't step back but he did begin to spank her.

"You are a whore and I won't sully myself with the likes of you." He screamed as he walloped her cheeks. These strikes did hurt, a lot, because she couldn't see them coming, but Trish knew how to separate herself from the pain. 

The leader of the group grabbed her arms at the elbow and pulled her to him. She stood with her back and buttocks pressed to his front as he gripped her arms painfully, holding her still. Trish could easily have gotten out of his grip, the hold he used could be countered in many ways, but she chose to keep still and see what developed.

The other two men moved to her front and stared at her out-thrust beasts and exposed pussy. 

"You boys like what you see?" she asked and spread her legs wider. Tilting her pelvis forward she offered them the slick, wetness of her sex, still full of sperm from her last encounter.

"Punish her, Mark. Slap her. Teach her to respect us, and our ways."

Mark went pale and identified himself. "Go on." The leader encouraged. "Do it."

Raising his hand slightly he stared at her painted face; tears leaked from her eyes, her make-up smeared and stained with dried jism from her first man today, and still Trish knew he found her attractive. Men always found her attractive when they hurt her. That was why she has spent years training her body to respond with pleasure when she encountered pain. The more they tried to hurt her the more pleasure she took from it. This was the core of her ability to maintain Self Control. She lived for the moment when the men who tried to hurt her broke and gave her what she wanted. That special, magical moment when they ejaculated and she knew she had won. When they proved that she was stronger and better than them. 

Each man had his breaking point, and a trigger that led to it. Her skill lay in exploiting them. Looking at Mark she saw a man conflicted between his lust and his compassion. He wouldn't respond well to her anger. He needed to see her genuine arousal in order to engage in sex with her. 

Trish had been in a number of dangerous situations like this, she purposely sought them out, but the trick to each was walking the terrifyingly thin line of balance between the many personalities present. Mark was almost the opposite of the loud mouth. Yes he wanted her and he would take her violently if Loud Mouth told him to, but Trish wanted to push Mark far enough that he wanted to actively participate in this. 

That was the hard part. How to do that, while keeping Loud Mouth engaged in his particular way too, and the still unknown fellow on top of that. These were the challenges she lived for. 

With acting skills keenly honed over years spent in an abusive home Trish adopted the role she felt in her deepest gut would pull Mark into willingly abusing her, and thus she would be able to control the abuse, keeping it within the boundaries she accepted. 

Allowing her tears to fall freely, she softened her face appealingly, changing from the challenging shrew to the cute girl-next-door that she suspected Mark wanted her to be.

"You'd better do what he says. It's alright." She smiled for him, a weak, sad smile. Then she winked at him. "I can take it." Then she wiggled lewdly against Loud Mouth, grinding her ass against his cock once more. "Hold me tight, wimp." And she shared a secret smile with Mark.

"Slap this whore already. She is making a mockery of everything we have fought for today." Loud Mouth held her tighter still, trying to stop her squirming.

Mark stepped close and looking deeply into her weeping eyes prepared to slap her. Trish nodded to him, and Mark swung his hand and his palm smacked her cheek with a weak pat. 

The other young man with them giggled at Mark's feeble effort. 

"You do it." Mark hissed, clearly embarrassed by the whole thing. 

The other man, a rat faced fellow with a mean glint in his eye stepped up immediately and slapped Trish across the face, hard. She gasped as she recoiled. She's had no time to prepare and it stung the worst of the lot so far. 

Before she could regain her equilibrium he slapped her again with a backhand that sent her head flying the other way. That was going to leave a bruise.

"You like that?" He gritted between clenched teeth. "I don't see you smiling now whore!" 

He was however. He had a tight mean smile and Trish realized that he was a hard-core bully. This was the sort of man she most feared, the hardest kind to placate with anything less than blood. 

Then he began to slap her breasts. Swatting her naked flesh he struck her soft mounds over and over while yelling at her, spittle flying from his mouth.

"You are a slut! A tease! You skank! The Lord is too good for the likes of you!" 

With her chest stinging like a horrible sunburn Trish took deep breathes and tried to calm her panic as she absorbed the assault. The shock was overwhelming, but the pain was no more than she had endured in the dungeon of the sex club she frequented. She could deal with this. 

As she found her place of calm the slaps continued as Rat Faced slapped her tits, then her belly and down to her thighs. He switched hands as his face went bright red with his efforts. 

Tears flowed from her eyes and she gasped periodically with pain. And yet her goal remained the same. Trish still sought ways to turn this from a beating into a fucking. She ground her ass into Loud Mouth's crotch and clenched her buttocks around his hard shaft as much as possible. She spread her thighs for Rat Face, offering him her glinting sex. She wanted more than ever for these three assholes to fuck the shit out of her. 

Rat Face ran out of steam pretty quickly, he didn't know how to do this properly, and his hand was clearly hurting. 

"That's how you do it Mark." He sneered at his friend, while cradling his sore hands as unobtrusively as he could. Trish saw however, and hoped that would be the end of the slapping. 

Suddenly inspired, Trish allowed her weight to sag, making Loud Mouth choose to either hold her up bodily, or let her fall to her knees. He opted to hold on but let her weight slump. Trish went to her knees on the squalid floor and sagged as if she were vanquished. Loud Mouth still held her arms, pulling them back, his grip slipping from her elbows to her wrists. 

Falling as far as she could forward in Loud Mouth's hold she let her face move within inches of Rat Face's crotch where he stood panting in front of her. She let her wig cascade over her face in long brown locks and she brushed his crotch with the top of her head. 

Rat Face froze at that light contact and Trish exaggerated her gasping letting her whole body sway while pressing her head to the growing erection in Rat Face's pants. When she felt him lean onto the top of her head slightly she sobbed loudly and lifted her face and pressed her cheek to his rapidly hardening cock. 

It was incredibly difficult balancing the desires of three men in such an extreme situation, but Trish felt she had a handle on how to play these guys. So far it seemed Loud Mouth wanted to punish her, Rat Face wanted to dominate her, and Mark wanted to save her. 

Trish didn't have time to play coy with these guys, someone could arrive, or one of them might grow too scared to proceed, or even determine that they weren't going to get the encounter they wanted and just start to beat her, so Trish gambled and escalated things. 

Opening up her mouth she stuck out her tongue and lifting her head ran her pink appendage along the shaft of Rat Face's cock through his pants. Looking up at him through the sheath of her hair she gazed at him with need and submission while licking along his length. 

Then she turned her head looking for Mark and saw him pull his gaze from her nudity and glance at her face. Trish shrugged and smiled for him. Then she twisted around and called back to Loud Mouth. 

"At least one of your minions is a real man." 

Rat Face seemed stunned by her lasciviousness and he made no move to stop Loud Mouth as he bent down taking Trish's head in his hands and held her immobile. 

"You have a lot of nerve you slut. I would be careful what you say here, if I were you." He squatted behind her, his legs parted around her back, his hard-on pressing into her spine. 

With her hands now free Trish reached forward to balance herself and grabbed Rat Face's cock with one hand and his thigh with the other. 

"Do you think I might get in trouble? Oh no! If I play nice will you let me go?" She stroked Rat Face's erection boldly and she looked up at him with imploring eyes, her head still held firm by Loud Mouth.

"You'd like us to sully ourselves with the likes of you, wouldn't you, you skank? You like to tempt us from Heaven's embrace!" Loud Mouth hissed in her ear. 

"I'd like to sully myself with this." Trish deftly unzipped Rat Face's pants and reached into his fly to grab his penis through his underwear. Rat Face didn't move, but she saw him smile down at her with his evil little grin. His hard-on pulsed in her hand, heat radiating off the engorged shaft. 

All three men froze as she groped Rat Face openly. Her hand was the only part of the small group moving, all eyes on her wrist where it disappeared into his fly and the bulge of her hand on his cock as it ran up and down. 

Knowing she needed to proceed before she was stopped Trish nimbly tugged Rat Face's underwear down and then extracted his tool from his fly, exposing it to their view. 

His cock was pleasing looking, big, but well within the average size and pink with a darker circumcised head. It was smooth with a few prominent veins and a clean healthy skin. 

Trish stroked Rat Face's shaft openly. She glanced over at Mark and saw that he was mesmerized by what she was doing, his eyes wide and his tongue licking his lips tentatively. 

Behind her Loud Mouth squeezed her head tightly and leaned forward forcing her to move her face closer to the erection in her hand. 

Leaning in of her own accord Trish brought her lips right next to the head of the cock and beseechingly looked up at Rat Face seeking permission to suck it. 

There is a special sort of tension to the initial moment sex starts that Trish loved. As she held still poised to start sucking his cock Trish saw the choice flash across Rat Face's features. Like the moment a performer pulls an audience member on stage, there is a split second of hesitation from the audience member. A good performer can pull the person through it effortlessly, and Trish had learned to do that.

All it took was eye contact, confidence and compassion. 

When Rat Face looked into her eyes he would see that she meant him no harm, that she wanted his participation in her defilement. Trish sincerely wanted him and all his friends to fuck her here on that soiled mattress. Seeing that he had permission to indulge in his most perverse fantasies Rat Face proceeded where otherwise he might not. 

Placing his hand on her head Rat Face urged her on and she opened up and took him between her lips. Sliding her tongue around his knob she ran her lips over his head and made a real show of it for the others watching. 

Trish could feel Loud Mouth's cock grinding into her back and feel the heat of his breath on her cheek as he leaned closer to watch every miniscule movement. 

Trish let the knob pass from her lips and she began to run her lips and tongue along the side of the shaft so she could face Mark. Looking up at him she saw his eyes meet hers above the hard cock between her lips. 

Reaching out Trish grabbed Mark's belt and pulled him closer. While running her mouth along the length of Rat Face's pole she began to stroke Mark's cock through his pants. He flinched at first but her hand on his obviously aroused member relaxed him. 

Loud Mouth could no longer see her face or Rat Face's cock from where he was so he adjusted. Moving around he knelt on her right and began to stroke her bright red, stinging breasts. He pinched her nipple hard and made her groan. 

Opening her perceptions as wide as she could Trish, the sexual virtuoso she was, began to perform for all three men. 

Engulfing Rat Face's prick fully in her warm mouth she pulled Mark's cock out with her left hand and used her other to search for and find Loud Mouth's. She groped Loud Mouth clumsily while stroking Mark's boner and blowing Rat Face. Three cocks all happy with her attention. 

If she could purr like a cat Trish would be doing so now. With a hard cock in each hand and one in her mouth she felt utterly content to kneel here for a few moments basking in the attention of these three men. 

Her tingling skin, sore from being slapped, was now being mauled roughly by Loud Mouth and that tingling pleasure was getting her very horny. 

Mark stepped closer and she switched from sucking Rat Face to slurping on Mark's straining tool. Rat Face smeared his wet pole around her hollowed cheek and painted her features with her own saliva. 

Loud Mouth pulled away and her hand fell from his cock, which was the only member still ensconced in pants. 

Lifting her small hands she wrapped fingers around the two cocks aimed at her face and stroked both, taking turns sucking each for a few seconds then switching to the other. The sounds of her pleasure filled the room with soft voiced moans of delight. 

Back and forth she alternated stuffing one cock down her throat then the other while madly jacking both off. Hungrily she gobbled them, devouring their erections, putting on a lewd display of being a cock hungry whore. 

Then she felt Loud Mouth move immediately to her side and looking over saw his exposed cock also aimed at her face.

Now she began to juggle cocks. 

With both hands and her mouth Trish pleasured these men. Kneeling on the trash covered floor, the sounds of a riot still echoing from a block away Trish stroked two slippery pricks and sucked one. Then she would switch who was being blown and who was being jacked off. 

Her head bobbed up and down over hard man flesh and her spittle dribbled over her face and hands as she drooled over these hard rods of throbbing manhood. 

At times like this Trish felt more at home than at any other moment. Feminism meant nothing to her, Equality a distant memory. Trish Stark lived to be used by men. Aware of how demeaning it was for other women to contemplate a situation like this, Trish made no apology for her lusts. 

Trish was grateful for the efforts of other women to advance the lives of females everywhere, and Trish had every intention of living a life free of the constraints men placed on women in normal situations. Yet for Trish sex could only be satisfying if it were dangerous, degrading and pushed her emotional boundaries. 

Trish wasn't like other women. It wasn't her fault, or her choice, but she indulged it wholeheartedly now that she was aware of it. It scared her how well her body and mind worked together to bring her explosive orgasms from uninhibited, dangerous sex. But that is what brought her the most pleasure, and after a terrible childhood she felt entitled to as much pleasure as she could achieve. 

With three men all under her spell, literally in the palm of her hands, she was able to access a freedom no other area of life could provide. Here everything was simple, she used the body she had been given, the one she trained for just this purpose; being exploited and utilized for the pleasure of strangers. 

Her attention had wandered and she had focused too long on Mark's cock. Rat Face and Loud Mouth grew restless rubbing their cocks against her cheeks trying to get her to suck on them. Then Loud Mouth moved behind her and disappeared from her cock filled view. 

She switched to Rat Face's erection and was swallowing him as deeply as she could when she felt Loud Mouth spreading her legs wider apart and exposing her sex. Helping him she adjusted her position to give him greater access by sticking her ass out and arching her back.

Still sucking Rat Face she used his and Mark's bodies to support her weight as she leaned forward to give Loud Mouth a better shot at her pussy. Anticipation made her tremble as she waited to be filled from behind. 

Doubling her efforts to suck off the other two men Trish worshiped their cocks adoringly as she felt Loud Mouth position himself behind her, his cock rubbing along her thighs as he aimed it at her slit. 

When his knob parted her wet nether lips she moaned with need. This whole scenario was one of the hottest she had ever been in, and she had already gotten herself deliriously fucked in a crazy situation earlier. Her body was thrumming with desire, her brain fogged by lust as she felt herself taken by these men in this crack den.

At last Loud Mouth shoved his cock into her. He didn't ease in, he didn't allow her to accommodate herself to accept his size, he just rammed himself into her slick opening and it made her feel amazing. 

She was still slippery from other men's cum, but her juices were in full flow anyway, she was so aroused by this situation. She gasped as she felt hard cock fill her, but it didn't hurt at all. She wanted it harder. 

Loud Mouth began to drive in and out of her dripping cunt and each time he filled her up Trish grunted over the cock she was sucking. When he pulled out she whimpered from the loss. The tingling friction of his pole moving in her sensitive depths made her tremble with passion.

Loud mouth groped her tits as he pulled her body back onto his shaft while driving his hips forward and filling her with meat. He treated her like a fuck toy and Trish loved it.

The other men began to masturbate over her face when she wasn't sucking them, and their cock heads rubbed all over her damp face as she swayed back and forth from the deep thrusts she was getting from behind. 

What little make-up still covered her face was transferring to the cocks waving before her eyes, and spittle coated them with gleaming wetness. Trish's face was a wet mess of fluids and she spilled even more drool down her chin and over her breasts as cocks came and went from her wide open maw.

Trish could have stayed like this forever, but she wanted the men to all enjoy themselves fully. She wasn't here simply to please herself. Her aim was to make these men lose control before she did. That was the game and she needed to win. 

She wanted them all in every hole, she was desperate to be completely filled by cock, but by the rules of her game she needed them to be in charge. They had to dictate what happened to her and she had to have the courage to do it, or fail. 

Pretending to stop for air Trish let her head droop, hanging between the two men whose cocks were in her hands. She continued to stroke the slippery shafts while waiting for a particularly deep thrust from Loud Mouth. 

With her hips she tilted her sex away from Loud Mouth slightly not letting him cram himself all the way into her. She denied him that last inch of her pussy and when he grew frustrated he slammed into her driving his prick as deep inside her as he could. 

Trish used his momentum to push forward and she let herself fall between the other two men. Letting them go she stopped her fall with her hands on the filthy bed beyond them. 

Now she was on all fours, Loud Mouth had just the tip of his cock inside her, his hands fell from her breasts to her ass when she toppled, and the other two men laughed at her awkward tumble.




Riot



Trish glanced up at Rat Face with a chagrined look, and he laughed cruelly. Then he looked at the mattress and smiled evilly. 

"I'm gonna fuck her asshole." He said. All thoughts of salvation, or heaven had abandoned him. He was now just a mean little man with a woman in his clutches that he cared nothing for. She was just a tool he intended to use for his own twisted pleasure and Trish felt perfectly happy to let him do anything he wanted.

Rat Face orchestrated his personal porno as he pulled his clothes off. 

"Do you want to keep fucking her pussy?" He asked Loud Mouth. 

"Hell yeah." 

"Then lay down on the bed. I'll put her on top of you then I can fuck her ass, and Mark can fuck her face." 

Trish shuddered with desire as Rat Face casually spoke about using her without asking her opinion. The thrill of being used by these men whether she wanted it or not, in any way they wanted without her consent started the tingle of an orgasm in the deepest recesses of her core. 

Trish lived for this. This was the only drug she consumed, and she lapped at this feeling like a junkie dying for a fix. 

But the game of Self Control dictated that she get these men off before she could indulge in her own orgasm. 

Both Rat Face and Mark were stripping, but Loud Mouth continued to fuck Trish, bringing her orgasm closer to the fore. Using her hard won abilities to pace herself she fucked back against him while keeping her pleasure at bay. 

When the other men were as nude as they wanted to be; pants off, underwear gone, but shirts and socks still on, they stepped up onto the bed and Rat Face pulled Trish off of Loud mouth's cock and brought her further onto the unappealing bed. 

Rat Face directed Loud Mouth to lie on his back, which Loud Mouth did. Then Rat Face grabbed and handful of Trish's wig and held her head up near his bouncing cock. The pins holding he wig to her hair pulled painfully, but she relished the domination of it.

"Listen bitch, you'll do what I say if you know what's good for you.' Trish shivered at the anger barely contained in his voice. Rat Face was keeping himself on a tight leash in front of his friends, but she recognized madness when she saw it, and Rat Face was close to losing sanity. This riot was changing him, or rather allowing him to show more of himself than he usually did, she suspected. 

That twist added a new element to this encounter and the thrill of fear she felt made her pussy even wetter. She felt her own brand of madness rising to meet the challenge. 

She would not lose control. 

Trish crawled unbidden along Loud Mouth's body and positioned her pussy over his pole. Reaching down eagerly she placed him between her folds and sat down on his rod, filling herself and sighing with unfeigned relief.

Mark stepped close and aimed his cock at her smeared visage. Trish opened her mouth and accepted Mark's straining member deep inside, licking along the underside of his shaft.

Both men began to move in her wet grips and Trish quivered from head to toe at once more being stuffed full of manhood. The mattress heaved and bucked as they moved around on it, and Trish felt Rat Face step up to her head and saw his cock aimed at her mouth.

"Spit all over me. Get me wet if you want this not to hurt." He gritted through his clenched jaw. He was wound up tight and Trish worried that he was going to need to hurt her before he could cum. 

Trish let Mark's cock fall from her lips and she gathered as much saliva as she could and drooled it all over Rat Face's pole. She spat on him and ran her spit covered tongue over his cock, coating his length in as much fluid as she could. 

When he grew too impatient to wait he moved away taking his spit drizzled tool back toward her rarely used anus. Trish began to suck Mark once more, preparing herself to relax and accept the violent entry she knew Rat Face would attempt on her sphincter.

Trish adopted the deep breathing and still mind she knew she was going to need, even as two other men invaded her slender body. She had practiced this dozens of times, and having been fucked already today had her body thrumming to be used, so when Rat Face poised at her tender rose bud, she was as ready as she could possibly be. 

Pressing in, Rat Face opened the ring of her anus with his spongy cock head and Trish relaxed for him, bearing down slightly to widen her asshole. The cock that she had already sucked, that she knew the size of intimately from mere seconds before now felt enormous as it spread her sphincter open.

Gasping for air around Mark's erection Trish released tension through breathing as her most intimate, secret place was violated by a total stranger.

As soon as his knob passed through her sphincter Trish sighed with relief. Now he shoved his hard shaft deep into her bowels and even though it hurt, Trish felt her orgasm threaten to tear her consciousness aside. Gripping the tattered remnants of identity as her body trembled toward fulfillment Trish battled her own inner needs and maintained self-control. 

Now stuffed as full of cock as she could be Trish endured the delectable torment of having three men fucking her at once. 

Each man moved in and out of whichever hole he was in and pleasured himself with the delicious friction of her flesh. Helpless to stop them, her body wracked with joyous convulsions, Trish rode the waves of delight being utterly full of manhood brought her and fought to keep her impending climax from overwhelming her. 

Rat Face drove in and out of her ass ruthlessly, and Trish was grateful for the spit he had allowed her to cover him in. Loud Mouth could hardly move beneath her, and Trish lifted off of him as much as possible to give him space to pump in and out of her drooling pussy. 

Trish couldn't remember ever feeling her cunt so wet. It felt like there was a river leaking out from between her legs. Her nipples ached to be pinched, her breasts begged to be mauled by big male hands, as her body trembled on the tantalizing cusp of complete abandon. 

This challenge had gone far beyond what she could possibly have hoped for. Six men in three locations, and all in the middle of a riot. She had exceeded her darkest desires, and loved it. 

As three men violated her in this dingy, filth encrusted room, on a stained mattress that even junkies would think twice about fucking on Trish Stark quivered with tension as she used every ounce of her self-control to stop herself from having the greatest climax of her life. 

Slurping on Mark's cock Trish used his smooth pole to ground her consciousness in the Now. Treasuring his hot shaft she swirled her tongue all over him and suckled his tip or swallowed his length, anything to hold her awareness in the immediate present as her body clenched tightly around the two erections driving her to total bliss.

Rat Face was slamming into her ass harshly, her bowels stretched wide to accommodate his member. The tingling heat of his invasion spread outward like a wave of warmth engulfing her body. Her clit was being ground down onto Loud Mouth's pubic bone making it extremely difficult to concentrate. 

Trish felt her pussy contract around the throbbing meat ensconced in her molten core and she cried out from the effort it took not to give in to her body's demand to release the building tension and cum. 

From beneath Loud Mouth reached up and began to grope Trish's tender breasts. As his hands crushed her tits, her nipples pressed into his palm delightfully, Trish fought to take a breath as her body froze with over-stimulation. 

Pleasure chemicals were already seeping into her bloodstream as her body trembled on the precipice of orgasm. The only thing stopping the full flood of her bliss was the thinnest membrane of will power. 

Trish was utterly paralyzed. She couldn't even draw a breath. Her body was rigid with tension, clenched down on the men inside her, seeking to stop them from moving and tormenting her with more delight. Clamping down on her instinct to give in to euphoria Trish held firm while her merciless tormentors continued to debase her body.

Not even able to suckle on Mark anymore Trish remained taut, unmoving as Mark shoved himself in and out of her silently screaming mouth. Saliva leaked from her lips and seeped down her face as every ounce of her focus was bent on not giving in to her climax yet. 

Rat Face was the one most able to move, and so his stimulation was the greatest as he slid in and out of her clenching anus. And before long, though it seemed like an eternity to Trish he began to cum, shooting his seed deep inside her bowels. 

The warm gush of his sperm nearly undid her. As she felt the seeping flow fill her asshole she had to fight even harder not to cum. Spread thin, her self-control tested more harshly than ever before Trish convulsed as her body battled her will and strained toward euphoria. 

Her convulsions and feeble mewling sounds brought delight to the three cocks nestled inside her body, and Mark began to climax as well. 

Now Trish tasted jism, the proof of his gratification, and her pride that she had provided his satisfaction tested Trish even more as she fought the need to give in to rapture. As Mark's spunk oozed over her twitching tongue Trish gloried in the hot gush of his flow. 

There had never been any greater sign of her power. This was her favorite reward for all that she put herself through sexually. Pure euphoria came from a man spending himself in her mouth. This was the ultimate gift sex brought to her, and it nearly proved greater than her self-control. 

Roused by the spill of semen over her tongue Trish ran her pink appendage over Mark's sensitive knob and bathed him in his own jizz. The powerful flavour of sperm filled her mouth and the thick viscous flow slid down her throat tantalizingly. 

A low animal moan escaped her throat as she swallowed the precious seed and ever muscle in her body clenched even more tightly as she fought desperately to hold off her climax while tasting hard earned cum. Two cocks continued to spill hot spunk inside her and Trish was beside herself with joy. 

Not even aware of her own name, Trish felt like a vessel for sperm. She was a literal cum dumpster and it was all she wanted to be at this moment. The more jism she could be filled with the better. And there was one more cock to go. 

It might have been an eternity, or only a few short moments, but when Trish felt the hot splash of Loud Mouth's cum spray over her cervix she finally released the hold on her own delight and she allowed herself to orgasm. 

Her pleasure had built up so greatly that the moment she gave into it she felt a flush of heat spread out over her entire body. It didn't start in her clit, or her ass or any one spot. This orgasm immediately filled every cell of her being. 

It felt as though she had burst into flames over every inch of her body. It felt like liquid flames that washed over her in waves of heat and cold at the same time. 

Trish had experienced hundreds of amazing climaxes, each one unique and yet familiar. This one was like nothing she had ever felt and a tiny part of her mind marveled at the amazing sensations she felt even as she screamed out the power of her mid shattering orgasm. 

Her body was a distant lump so far beyond her control that it was a dim memory, like a photograph of childhood. When she thought of the thing she called her body she could faintly sense three men still moving inside of her, but it was like recollecting a great meal from years before. It was too far removed to perceive the details. 

Her mind was a million miles away in the centre of a star named Ecstasy. That was where she lived now. The molten heat of the star ravished her with delightful torment. What she called Self was a mote swirling around inside the furnace of Ecstasy pummeled by delight and scoured clean by euphoria. 

Then something changed. Something profound. It caused more pleasure, but also pain, loss and a sense of abandonment so profound she wept there in the fiery inferno of her orgasm. 

Soon she realized something had pulled out of her bum, and the stretched muscles of her anus were closing once more. It hurt, but her body was happy to return to its usual state. This pulled her from her euphoria. And then, soon after, her mouth was empty of cock, even as the taste of sperm thrilled her with its thick flow over her tongue. 

Bereft of her support Trish toppled to her side and returned to her body regretfully. Her pussy was emptied of penis and now she lay on her side hollowed out and scraped clean of manhood. The trickle of oozing sperm the only proof that she had ever been so perfectly filled by cock.

Once more completely herself Trish lay panting on her side on top of the filthy mattress, her body leaking spunk from top to bottom. Sweat trickled over her skin and she tried to remember how to breathe as she once more inhabited the lump of flesh she called her body. 

Utterly gratified and nowhere near sated Trish curled in on herself and hugged her sex ravished body. It was very difficult to be forced back into the fragile shell of humanity after tasting the depths off pleasure she had just experienced. She wanted human contact, skin on skin, she wanted to feel loved the way she had in the explosive embrace of the star she named Ecstasy . 

Instead she looked up and saw the disgust and disdain of her former lovers as they gazed down at the mess they had made of her. Their contempt hurt, but it was no more than she had anticipated. What she hadn't anticipated was the love she felt in her chest for the men who had given her the profound gift of her greatest sexual experience ever. 

Remembering who they were and how she had gotten into this filthy room Trish accepted that these men hated her for making them give in to her deviance. She had forced them to alter the way they saw themselves, and they hated her for it.

She couldn't find the words that would let them see the beauty in what had just happened here, and so she opened herself to accepting whatever it was they did feel.

Forcing her cramped fatigued body to move Trish rolled onto her back and sprawled out wide on the stained bed giving them the only gift she had left. She exposed her vulnerability and the profound bliss she felt, baring herself completely their disdainful gazes.

Trish knew men found her beautiful, many were even frightened of how attractive they found her, but not only was she baring her body to their gaze, but she was allowing them to see her naked spirit. Laying spread eagle before them she looked with her pale blue eyes into their faces and allowed them to see her vulnerability, her love and joy. 

Each man responded differently. Loud Mouth looked triumphant, as if he was somehow personally responsible for her state. Mark looked pleasantly confused, like he felt something other than what he expected to feel. And Rat Face looked angry. He wanted more, or something different from this encounter. 

There was violence in his eyes, and Trish was grateful for the other men there, so she wouldn't have to defend herself. She was certain she could, even against a pair of them, but not all three. Yet, as she had planned, post orgasm they were content and no longer as aggressive.

The men dressed, each gazing at her with his own private thoughts as she lay there, exposed, giving them the gift of remembering her like this, used, satisfied and happy. 

She carefully watched them cautious least anything change in the dynamic, but they dressed and left. None speaking, all of them still too stunned by what had happened. 

Trish rose and put on her jacket to cover herself minimally, and then she quickly left. She was certain that Rat Face would return and if he found her here alone things would be very different. She would need to hurt him very much to make him leave her alone. She knew the look in his eyes. 

When she stepped out into the street the men were gone. There were refugees from the riot wandering around dazed, and Trish walked at a relaxed pace, neither slow nor fast, not wanting to draw too much attention to herself. Too stunned by the immensity of her orgasms to move at anything brisker than a slow stagger, she wandered to her car.

She made it to her car safely and she placed her skirt on the seat to protect he upholstery from her still leaking holes. 

At home in the shower she washed the remnants of her adventure from her skin and luxuriated in the warm flow of water. 

The small part of her mind that was still sane about sex tried to remind her how abnormal her behavior was, but she had learned long ago to ignore it. Life was fragile and she had no interest in waiting for excitement to come to her. 

And so she gave herself this evening to reflect on her escapades and she masturbated three times remembering her ecstasy from earlier. And then the next day went back to being the young woman who everyone thought was a prude, and too shy for her own good. 



Riot on the Set



She’d been watching him for weeks now. There was no way around it; he was like a magnet. She watched him now.

His arms were around a slender brunette, his face scant inches from hers. They seemed oblivious to the world around them. 

She could hear them breathing, it was almost labored with their passion. 

“I can’t imagine my life without you, Scott. You make my life… you make my life… uh… you make my life…” the brunette began.

“CUT!” yelled the director. The edge in his voice cut through Ginger like a knife. She shivered, almost dropping the plate of canapés she was carrying.

As Ginger moved behind the table of snacks that she’d been arranging throughout the day as food items disappeared, she watched the scene unfolding around her. Grips and techs of all kinds dodged cables, monitors, and various other people as they scrambled to reset everything to re-shoot the scene. The cinematographer began consulting with the key grip about the lighting, and the assistant director scurried toward the director to try and calm him. 

The flurry of activity in the dark, dirty warehouse they were shooting in was a sharp contrast to the beautiful bedroom set up before the cameras. The king sized mahogany bed was covered in silky looking linens, the bedside lamps glowing ever so slightly. The thick plush carpet beneath the bed made Ginger want to roll around naked on it. However, the scene in the bedroom was not so mild at this point.

“Serena, darling,” began the director in a tone that fell somewhere between hysteria and placating, “I know this is all very stressful for you, but I really need to finish this scene. We’re almost through here, sweetie. Please… just try!” He reeled toward the actor who’d been embracing Serena. He was standing apart from Serena, an amused look on his face. “And you, Luke, it would help if you were a little more supportive.”

Luke never flinched. “You, know, Roy… I’m doing my job. I didn’t know that on top of acting for this role, I’d have to coddle your lead actress and hold her hand through her simple lines. I mean, ‘you make my life complete?’ It’s not rocket science.”

Ginger watched as Serena threw her hands over her eyes and gave out a half-shriek, half-sob. 

“Oh, God. Now we won’t be finished until tomorrow.” Luke intoned.

Ginger knew it was true. Because of Serena’s hysterics, shooting had been delayed for three weeks. She was looking forward to leaving the drama filled set. Luke St. John and Serena James were married. When the shoot for Butterfly Room had begun, the couple had been happy, borderline sugar shock. 

Ginger had looked forward to joining the crew as their caterer and had signed her catering company on quickly, opting out of the new Mark Leight flick. Though the pay might have been a little more because the shoot would have been longer, he was notoriously difficult and demanding of his crew. Roy Brunell was easygoing, friendly, and talented. He was also known for shoots that started late in the morning and ran to all hours of the night, which was fine by Ginger. 

However, about six weeks before shooting was to wrap, Luke had discovered his darling wife in the arms of a young production assistant in her dressing room. The same production assistant who’d been their pool boy. All hell had broken loose. Not only had things been tense between the principle actors, the set had been plagued with little disasters like props breaking, orders coming in late, and people falling ill.

Ginger sighed. She began to arrange the canapés. She and her staff were usually some of the last crew members to leave because Ginger demanded that the rest of the crew stay fed while they packed up. It was going to be an early night, thanks to Serena, but that meant it would probably be an early morning tomorrow.

“What’s with the sigh?” came a gruff voice, laden with a Scottish brogue. Ginger knew who it was, but was afraid to look. She followed the speaker’s hand as he plucked up an apple from a tray. She watched him polish it on his soft-looking shirt. She followed the shiny, red fruit to his mouth. It was Luke’s mouth.

His face looked strange up close. The make up caked in his face was sweating off a little near his hairline. His dark eyes seemed black and far away. He chewed the apple, a half smile on his oddly bronzed face. His accent didn’t suit him when he was in make up. He dropped his real voice and adopted a generic All-American accent for film work.

“Just a little tired, I guess.” Ginger managed. She wasn’t star-struck, exactly. She’d been around hundreds of famous actors and actresses in the four years she’d been catering movie sets. She was just surprised. She’d noticed that Luke often disappeared after his scenes recently. He also usually took a private meal in his trailer, or went out to some low-key, high-priced Los Angeles restaurant.

“Yeah, tell me about it. But, I’m a night owl, so I won’t be asleep until two in the morning anyway.”

Ginger must’ve made a face, because Luke chuckled then. “Am I making you uncomfortable, Ginger?”

She recovered, quickly, with a professional smile. “No, sir. I was just thinking about how hot it is on this set. Most sets are air conditioner.”

“Say that again, if you would.” he asked.

“Air conditioner?” Ginger asked.

“No… sir.”

“Sir?” Ginger repeated. Luke smiled, and then laughed as Ginger made another face.

“Please, don’t be mad. You just don’t seem like they type of girl who would say sir.” 

The laughter in his eyes softened his assumptions. That and the fact that Ginger was used to them. She’d grown up in small-town Middle America. She’s always bought into the GAP style, ADIDAS shoes, and long, blonde hair and blue eyes on top of a cheerleader outfit. She’d been a model high school student, participating in cheerleading, French Club, National Honor Society, and Young Democrats. Her parents had assumed she’d go to some preppy college, get a boring BA and live in their old house when they were gone. She’d shocked everyone when she showed them her acceptance letter to a top rated culinary arts school in California. 

After the initial uproar, she moved and the rest was history. She cropped her hair to pixie style that suited her tiny, 5’0” frame. It’d been any number of colors since she’d made a name for herself in the catering business in LA. Right now, it was jet black. Her cute, upturned nose was pierced, and she sported a tiny diamond stud in it, a gift from a rich, Porsche driving jerk of an ex-boyfriend. She was wearing an ultra short black mini skirt, black and white striped stockings, and a pair of super shiny Mary Janes. She had a bright pink ribbed Juicy Couture tank top that sported a red skull and cross bones and a black and white ADIDAS wrist band on her left arm. Her bright orange bra straps peeked past the tank straps. 

Because of her occasionally outrageous attire, she was used to dealing with negative opinions from people who didn’t know her. However, she was used to morphing depending on the occasion. She wore a gold Gucci dress to the Academy Awards on the arm of a wealthy TV producer. She had a closet-full of Dolce and Gabbana suits for interviews. And usually, it didn’t matter what she wore, because her menu spoke for itself.

Ginger smiled up at him. “No, of course I’m not mad. I’m just not the kind of girl who would assume to call anyone by their first name unless invited.” She cleared her throat. “How was it that you know my first name, anyway?”

“Oh,” Luke ducked his head, “I suppose I just asked around.”

Ginger cocked her head to one side and looked up at him, the curiosity obvious in her eyes when Luke met them once more. 

“Yea, well, you hardly go unnoticed. And I mean that in the nicest of ways, I promise.”

Ginger laughed then. 

“Ginger!” Her name sharply called broke the spell that had held Ginger and Luke in there own world over the white cloth-covered table. A delightfully round redhead named Maricel rushed over to Ginger. Maricel was the sweetest girl Ginger had ever met and she was the finest, most patient pastry chef that Ginger had ever worked with. Right now, however, her baby-face was twisted from its usual smile to something that resembled annoyance mixed with anguish. Ginger was alarmed.

She turned from Luke and clasped Maricel’s chubby hands in her own. “Mari, what is it, honey?” she asked. 

Mari took a deep breath before she let her words spill forth in an angry rush that told the story her half-Latin roots. “It’s Ross. He’s on the office phone in the trailer. He refuses to let us alone until he speaks to you. I don’t know what I can do, Ginger, doll. I’m sorry.”

She reassured Maricel with a pat to her hands and a nod. Ginger’s face didn’t change; it was still a mask of irritation. She turned back to Luke apologetically. “I’m sorry, I have to take this.” She moved to follow Maricel.

Luke reached out and grasped her elbow. “Ginger… wait. I… um… if it’s not to strange, I’d like to take you to dinner tonight. I mean, if that’s okay.”

Ginger again cocked her head up at him, this time in shock. Yes, she’d been out with actors in the past, but never someone who’d appeared on the cover of Entertainment Weekly magazine. Now, she was star-struck. But, she wasn’t stupid.

“Well, sure, Mr. St. John. I’d love to. But, can I ask why you’d like to take me out?” Ginger asked.

“Why not? You’re absolutely intriguing. Just now, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you… and I couldn’t stop a million questions I wanted to ask. I’d just like a chance to look a little longer… and perhaps ask a few of those questions.” he replied, with a sheepish grin.

Ginger had never met another person as shy as Luke seemed to be, let alone a famous actor who had acted like a jerk only moments ago on the set. “Oh, okay. My trailer at around nine?”

“Sounds marvelous. I’ll be there.” Ginger turned to leave on that note.

“Oh, and Ginger?” Luke began. 

She turned back toward him, a questioning look in her eyes. “Yes?”

“Call me Luke.”

***

“Good Lord, Ross. You’re being such a freak about this. I told you that working together would be a bad idea. If you can’t order the salmon, then order the scrod.” Ginger paused in her annoyed tirade to listen to the man on the other end of the line. His reply made her start.

“You’re an incurable asshole, Ross. And I’m glad you dumped me, too. I’ve never felt quite so… I don’t know… free of disease. So, just order the damn scrod and I’ll deal with you tomorrow. Oh, and Ross, DO NOT call and harass my staff ever again. If you want me, call my cell.” She slammed the cordless phone onto its cradle and glanced at the clock on her desk in the tiny trailer. It was 8:15. She’d been talking to Ross for almost an hour about the fish order for an upcoming press junket that she was catering. Thankfully, she had a shower and some fresh clothes in the trailer. Some directors helped by going the extra mile to make long days on the set more bearable.

As she slid out of the hot shower ten minutes later, her legs freshly shaven and her hair washed, she smiled at the thought of her upcoming date. She was going to be on the arm of a hot Scottish man who also happens to be one of People magazine’s 50 Most Beautiful People. Ginger felt a rush of giddy excitement shudder through her.

She dropped her towel and the luxurious Egyptian cotton mass puddle on the floor around her ankles. She looked into the full length mirror on the bathroom door. She’d always thought her small frame was cute if not abundantly curvaceous. It suited her personality: energetic, busy, and in constant motion. She pressed play on the portable CD player in one corner of the tiny living room. Instantly, the room swelled with a pulsating, dance beat from one of her favorite guilty pleasures: Def Leppard. As the lead singer, Joe Elliot, begged her to pour some sugar on him, Ginger danced around the tight space and began drying her hair. 

She watched her dancing frame in the mirror. Her small B-bites shook slightly, their pert nipples still pebbled from when she’d taken off her towel. Her flat tummy sloped down into a little thatch of brunette curls. She kept them cropped into a neat little patch, and their darkness stood out from the whiteness of her skin. Her navel ring (another tiny diamond) glittered in the dim lamplight and she swayed her slender hips from side to side. Once she’d and styled dried her short hair, she slid into an itty-bitty fuchsia thong and a black silk Diane von Furstenberg slip-dress. The sheerness of the fabric didn’t allow for a bra, so Ginger just had to hope for the best. She stepped into a pair of silver strappy sandals that added four inches to her miniature height. Her final touch was a simple black ribbon choker.

She put some light make up on her face, just enough to make her look fresh, bright, and a little glamorous. As she put the final touches on her berry lip gloss, there came a knock at the door. She snapped the CD player off and opened the door.

Luke stood at the bottom of the trailer’s stairs in a black pullover and black slacks. His dark hair was damp. His complexion no longer had the strange orange cast to it; rather he looked a little ruddy, and sported an odd smattering of freckles across his nose and forehead. He smelled slightly of aftershave… and something more. Something that stirred something in Ginger’s belly. He handed her a daisy and grinned up at her. “May I say that you look stunning?”

Ginger accepted the flower with a smile and stepped back to allow him to come in. “You may. And I’d return the complement… but gallant seems more appropriate.” She smelled the daisy. “I’d say that you’re a mind reader, as well. Daisies are my favorite.” She dropped the daisy into a glass of water on the tiny utility sink.

“Somehow, I guessed that. You’re a complex woman… so, it seems natural that you’d favor the simplest flower.” Luke again looked at the carpet. Ginger was fascinated with how bold he seemed onscreen, and in his interactions with Serena and Roy, but acted like a nervous high school boy around her. 

She shook off the idea and gestured about the cramped, but cozy trailer. “Welcome. This has pretty much been my home for the past seven months. Just let me collect my purse, and we can go.”

Luke held her arm and led her out to the parking lot of the warehouse. There were only a few cars remaining. Ginger was surprised that he led her to an unassuming black Ford F-150. He again smiled his sheepish smile. “I’m sorry if you’re not impressed. I didn’t really prefer the flashy sports car that…” he looked up at Ginger’s door lock and opened it for her. He handed her up into the high cab. She completed the sentence in her mind. She’d seen the low-slung fire engine red Lamborghini that he and Serena had showed up to the set in before the drama began. Apparently, he’d allowed Serena to take it in the quickie divorce proceedings that they were rumored to be embroiled in. As her thoughts drifted, she hadn’t realized that she was still holding Luke’s hand. His gaze was level with her exposed cleavage, but he still looked her right in the eye. She was startled. She ended the silence, “So, where are we going, anyway?”

He dropped her hand with a bright grin. “You’ll see,” he proclaimed easing her door closed and trotting around the extended cab and bed and opened up the door and hopped up into the cab. “It’s a surprise.”

He pushed his key into the ignition and the truck roared to life. Almost immediately the Joe Elliot was asking Ginger to pour some sugar on him again. Ginger glanced at Luke, who flushed a bright red and turned the CD played off. “Sorry about that. I… I… it’s just an old CD…”

Ginger burst out laughing, much to Luke’s chagrin. It was several moments before she could regain her composure. “No, Luke… it’s just that… I was listening to the same song before you came over. It just surprised me!”

He smiled, visibly easing. “Well, as long as the last image you have of me isn’t of me with big hair, dancing around in tights, begging for you to pour some sugar on me, then I guess I can live with this mild humiliation.”

Ginger laughed again at the mental image, “Well, now that you mention it…”

Luke cast a sidelong glance at her, his eyes belied his amusement, but the set of his jaw tried for admonishing. Ginger just started laughing all over again. The continued their easy banter all the way to the restaurant. 

They exited the busy freeway, and drove to a quiet neighborhood. They proceeded down a tree-lined street with quaint shops, cafes and strolling neighbors still window-shopping. It was a refreshing little community amidst the insanity of the city. They parked along the street and got out in front of a dark little restaurant with shaded windows and potted plants outside the door that read “Spice Island.” 

Luke smiled at Ginger as he opened the door. The entered the narrow restaurant that seemed to occupy a space no bigger than her old ranch style home in Illinois. The waiting area held four green wicker chairs and a battered sofa. There was a chalkboard listing the specials leaning on one wall, and a rack of pegs to hang jackets on the opposite wall. The tables beyond were clustered and pushed together to accommodate some of the larger parties. There were several tables for two lining the walls. The chairs seemed to be a mismatched collection from thrift stores all over LA. Each table was lit by a votive candle in a generic holder. The rest of the ambient light came from mismatched sconces and floor lamps lining the walls. Though almost each table was occupied, the restaurant was quiet. The music floated around, rather than sounding forced from a speaker somewhere. Ginger was in love.

An old Asian man, dressed in retro attire and Buddy Holly glasses greeted them with a small smile. He nodded at Luke and offered his arm to Ginger. She looked at Luke before giving herself over. He smiled again at her and led them towards the back of the restaurant. There was a table for two set, already prepared with an appetizer and bottles of water.

Their host pulled out Ginger’s chair and she sat, smiling at everyone around her. He then disappeared. No one paid them any mind, and for that she was relieved. She saw that several diners were wearing jeans, and several more were wearing suits and dresses. She felt at ease. 

“Do you like it?” Luke asked, the burr in his voice heavier than usual. Ginger looked back at him. His face was almost comical; his eyes were as wide as a child’s seeking approval.

Ginger smiled broadly and grasped his arm. “Oh, Luke, it’s wonderful! You really are a mind reader!”

He smiled, satisfied. “This is The Spice Island Tea House. They have a huge selection of teas from all over the world… as well as some of the best Thai food ever. I really hope you like it. I couldn’t tell if you were a vegetarian or not, so I figured Thai would be good in either case. And I figured that if I tried to impress you with some fancy five-star restaurant, I’d only fall flat on my face because you can cook better than those chefs anyway. I’m sorry, I’m rambling.”

Ginger smiled, her face rosy from the compliment. She watched as Luke tried to recover from his speech. It was probably the longest he’d ever kept up a single run of words that weren’t scripted. 

Their waitress showed up at that moment, saving Luke from his perceived embarrassment. She was a petite Asian woman. She was a beauty, her ebony hair shining in the candlelight, her ivory skin glowing ethereally. She wore a red and black corset style dress and fishnet hose. The boning of the corset made her look like a sleekly curved dominatrix; the fishnets were reminiscent of a French brothel. Ginger smiled at her own appraisal, mentally noting the look for her next shopping excursion.

Soon after their first teas arrived, Ginger placed her chin in her hands, and planted her elbows on the table. “So, I heard you had some questions about me?”




Riot on the Set



Luke smiled, mischief lit in his eyes, but his smile stayed shy. “Oh, my dear, I have dozens.”

***

Nearly three hours later, Ginger pushed herself away from the table. Her cheeks were sore from laughter, and she still had tears in her eyes. The restaurant was nearly empty. Their waitress had grown tired of interrupting them, and had just brought a pot of tea periodically after they’d finished their meals. Luke had paid and was gathering his change and leaving more for a tip. He still had a smile frozen on his face, his cheeks ruddy.

Over dinner, desert, and endless cups of tea, they had covered everything from childhood broken bones and stitches (Ginger, seventeen stitches in her elbow and one broken wrist and Luke, one broken pinkie and one broken leg) to recent heartbreaks (several for Ginger, one biggie for Luke), from Ginger’s first excursion to California (under the guise of a long weekend trip with her best friend Mandy to downtown Chicago) and Luke’s youth in Scotland (he lived on a pig farm with his mom and dad) to their current careers (which neither of them expected to happen, but both love). Luke was incredibly easy to talk to, especially after Ginger had encouraged him to start talking. They laughed, joked, and talked some more.

They climbed into the huge truck and were at Ginger’s trailer all too soon. Luke walked her through the parking lot to her door. At the bottom of her aluminum steps, Luke caught Ginger’s chin in his hand and looked into her blue eyes.

“Ginger,” he began, his deep brogue grabbing her by the middle, “I’m glad you accepted my invitation. I had so much fun. And I’m certainly glad you’re who you are.”

It was Ginger’s turn to smile sheepishly. “I’m glad you invited me out.”

Without thinking, she stood on her tiptoes and pushed her mouth onto his. His lips were soft and full against hers. They still carried the dark taste of the tea they’d been drinking. His scent again grabbed at her senses, intoxicating.

She broke away, stepping back. She looked at him, startled at her own reaction. She’d never felt so rash, so heated… 

“Ginger… I’d like…” he held his arms open. She didn’t need anymore encouragement. She ran into them, and threw her arms around his neck. He dipped his mouth to hers, possessing her. She could feel the hard outline of his body against her soft curves. Her nipples stiffened and tugged on the silky fabric of her black dress. She itched to take it off.

Obviously Luke agreed. He scooped her up into his arms and carried her up the flimsy steps, never breaking their kiss. He bumped the door. It didn’t budge. Locked.

He broke the kiss and looked down at Ginger, apparently bewildered. She laughed. She opened her purse with her free hand and dug out the key. He maneuvered her into one arm as though she were weightless. Indeed she felt that way. The door finally cooperated and the fell into the trailer.

Her purse was dropped and forgotten. The aluminum door was kicked shut with a not-so-subtle bang. He carried her to the sofa and laid her gently there. He fell atop her and resumed their kiss. She felt his knee shift between hers. She groaned in response to the course fabric of his slacks rubbing the tender inside of her thighs. The silk of her dress was pushed further into the junction of her legs, like a subtle caress. The contrast made her sigh again. Luke’s hand’s roved her body. His palms wandered much too slowly up her belly and to the underside of her breast. Finally, the pad of his thumb came down on her already taut nipple and she almost melted right there. She deepened their kisses and allowed her hands to roam over the hard planes of his back and across his firm buttocks.

She felt rather than heard his groan against her mouth. Her mind was whirling from the heady kisses and his erotic scent. She found his waist band and pulled his shirt from it, exposing his back. She ran her fingernails across it lightly, savoring the feel of his skin goosepimpling beneath her caress. This was obviously too much for Luke to take because he pulled away from Ginger and righted himself on his knees. He pulled his shirt clear over his head and tossed it aside carelessly. Not missing the opportunity to see him, Ginger reached behind her and snapped on the lamp on the side table. His muscles were bunched and corded, each one defined in the dim light. His chest heaved from passion and the headiness of their kisses. 

Ginger felt her hand go unconsciously to his chest and run along it. He was so smooth, and firm. He moaned beneath her touch. When her fingers found a delicate nipple, he came to her again.

His voice was even deeper and more heavily accented than it had been outside. “You’re a vixen, Ginger,” he growled as her nibbled her earlobe. She verily shuddered at the sound of her name on his lips, so close to her ear.

A free hand wandered down to Ginger’s exposed thigh. He reached beneath the silky hem and freed the silky fabric from being pinned between them. He pushed the flimsy dress up to her waist, revealing her scant panties. He palmed her sensitive core and allowed his fingers to explore the insides of her thighs. He could feel her flimsy thong become moist at his ministrations and he smiled against her neck. He pushed her panties aside, delighting in the soft curls bunched around her sweet spot. He look down at her, and with the barest of seconds waiting for her to nod, he plunged two fingers into her center. She rose against his intruding digits and moaned with deep pleasure. She was molten, dripping around his fingers. Her center was tight, the folds of her more silken than the dress.

She reached down and tugged her dress over her head, revealing her pert little breasts. Keeping his fingers lodged in her, slowly stroking the little nubbin above her passage, he dropped his head to suckle her. She moaned and writhed beneath him, her panting become labored.

“Please, Luke… now. I need you.” Her little voice pleaded. Luke was helpless to resist even if he’d wanted to.

She smiled, her eyes still clouded with passion. She slid her still-deft fingers down the plane of his stomach and undid his trousers. He stood, and finished by pulling them off, with his socks.

He remained standing in his boxer briefs, his rigid manhood standing at full attention as he wondered at the gorgeous creature naked before him.

“Oh, Ginger…” he began.

Before he could resume his ministrations she stood, a devilish smile in her eyes. She placed her flat palm against the placket of his underwear, and rubbed him. He was almost weak in the knees as she kept her eyes on him, a dark smile curling her lips.

She then dropped to her knees before him, pulling his underwear down and letting him step out of them. She looked up at him one last time before taking the whole of his hard cock into her sweet mouth. Luke gasped at the sudden sensation of her warm lips gliding over his shaft. She tongued the sensitive underside and suckled the tip. She glided her tongue down the swollen shaft from his tip to his testicles and left no part untouched. She explored his torso, hips, and firm buttocks with her warm hands, as he reveled in her sweet mouth.

He soon grew anxious to slide into her, to feel her silken sheath close over him. He finally pulled away and pulled her back to her feet. She looked sinful, but sweet. He wanted her for everything.

He laid her back on the sofa, kissing and nibbling her already swollen lips. He looked into her eyes and waited for her to tell him yes one more time. When the nod came, he pulled her close and plunged into her.

She was wet, white hot, and tight. Her narrow canal clung to his member like a glove. Soon after she accommodated his girth and size, they began to move in rhythm. He moved in and out of her, at first slowly, with controlled thrusts, but her frantic little cries and the ways the rubbed her tits against his smooth chest made him begin to fuck with abandon. He pounded into her, holding her tightly, kissing her neck and mouth, allowing her thrusts to parry his, allowing him to fill her to the maximum.

Soon, he heard her cry out. She began to thrust back with more force, pulling him into her deeper and deeper until she finally started to pulsate beneath him. Her sweet muscle clamped down and eased off, milking Luke’s cock and begging him for his release. Finally, she moaned and arched herself to him, forcing him to let her go. He rocked back onto his knees, still holding her hips and fucking her for all he was worth. Se moaned and pulled at her nipples. Her eyes were closed in ecstasy and finally Luke could take no more. He rocked her hips even faster against him, and finally felt himself burst forth. He fell onto her again, pulling her close as his moved his spurting cock inside her, allowing every last drop to fill her waiting womb.

It was a long time before either could move. Finally, Luke pulled himself out of her. Ginger looked at him, smiling sleepily. He rolled onto the sofa behind her, pulling her close so they fit snugly together in the small space. He pulled a thin blanket over them and the slept soundly in one another’s arms.