11 comments/ 40588 views/ 2 favorites Manhattan By: Liar Breathe in atmosphere, tinted stark with asphalt, gravel, dust, and dreams. Then tell me not. Dance with the beat of footsteps, to streetlight stroboscopes. Then tell me not. Tune to the city, hear her sing. Then tell me you can not feel, can not taste life on the tip of your horizon. Tell me, you can not taste the tears, the shiver down her spine. That you never fall to her embrace, her sharp seduction. It started like it always did. In a taxi. A yellow cab, branded with the Big Apple cliché chequered stripe and the skid marks of one too many close encounters in the hectic inner city traffic. Like the opening scene of some movie, speeding over the Brooklyn Bridge just as the sun sets in a haze of light smog and heavy history in the west. It was hunting time in what used to be my life. Thursday night. Fridays and weekends were for the suburban kids, the clueless, styleless losers, flooding the clubs and bars with their parents' money and lack of sense for the soul of the places. No, it was on weekdays that the real people played. Those who know where things happen and how to be a part of it. Yeah, I know. The fact that I was as much a fake, a tourist intruder on extended cab ride commute, never crossed my mind. You'd be amazed how easy self-delusion can become a habitual virus, how easy it is to slip into the "right" fold of such a dichotomy, if you wish for it bad enough. So it was Thursday, at the threshold of yet another meaningless night of make believe and masks. Chilled champagne silver buckets, flaming rum straight off the bar, green absinthe shots, white insane lines, all acting as the framework, setting the scene for everyone to drab a diversion. Taking drugs might help for some, but it never helped me. I needed release, plain and simple. First class flesh, exclusively wrapped, gym toned and more often than not artificially enhanced. Women, sometimes men, whatever mood I was in, caught up in the same pointless feedback loop as me. Every night was a matching game. Find a willing stranger, play a few hours of make believe games, drink, chew the fat, drink some more, and then off to whomever's apartment was closest. Sex was mandatory. Sex was the whole focal point of it all, the only goal that still mattered. It was city life in its most depraved glory. Straight vodka, strange pills, coke lines, VIP lounges, sweat, perfume, design hysteria, glitter hyperboles... all boiling down to stellar rutting, shameless sex like in high budget hardcore movies. It was a quest for the perfect fuck, something we would never experience, simply because there is no such thing. Or so I thought. I know better now. I know that it was nowhere to be found on the seedy spectacular that is the Manhattan scene. A carnal experience without a strong soul attached to it is just masturbation. Expensive and redundant wanking. The city came closer, opened its mouth and devoured me as the taxi left the bridge and dived in among the skyscrapers. Its steel and glass forest towering high around me, but all the action, all the steaming life was right there on ground level. A colourful anthill of beautiful people, cars, beggars, conspicuous whores, ties, neon lights and island after island of blaring, pumping music passing me by. Most days I would have eyed the opportunities. I had an address, a street name and number that didn't really say much to me, but Binder had assured me that this was the place to be tonight. Binder usually was right about that kind of thing. He knew the ins and outs of New York's upper levels like nobody else I know. I guess he still does. I don't see him much these days. Anyway, I was too slow, sometimes too high to ever keep track of what was hot and what was not, so Binder was my guide to the labyrinth of status and style. A labyrinth with twists and unexpected turns that that night led me to a long corridor walled with the tackiest cyan velvet, where the staccato of an electro funk beat hung like a curtain in the air. It was the music of the month in a business that changed faster than the seasons where being on the edge drove producers and designers alike into a cocktail diet of Prozac, Stoli and good old Amsterdam White. There she was. At first, just another moving shape in the sea of bodies writhing to the beat, a flurry of naked limbs and glitter in the stroboscope freeze frames. But there was just something that locked my vision right there, something in the way she moved. As if a bubble around her had granted her a time zone of her own, where she set the tempo. Tacky, I know, but I don't mean it in that Hollywood clip template for first impressions kind of way. No, there were all those little nuances that were…just…slightly…off. Her hue a little too warm for the room, her movements not quite matching those of the other dancing people. The level headed side of my brain tried to tell me that the pills I never could remember the names of, that I had popped just before hailing the cab, were finally kicking in. It wasn't that I shunned drugs. After all, your local over the counter pharmacy can keep you high for weeks if you know how to mix it right. I just didn't trust anything that neatly packed. The other side of that brain was going on autopilot, measuring up the potential for nailing her to the floor of a hotel room by the end of the night. But there was something else, a tiny part of me, wondering just what made her feet move to a beat that was not echoing between the walls. And what made her hair, a fascinating too white mane interrupted by strands of red and auburn, flow through the air as if in slow motion. And why did she look straight at me? Her eyes, those eyes, there is something not quite right… A forceful shove and a strong grip on my shoulder shook me back into the real world again, as the face of a burly faux latino kind of guy with a trophy call-girl clinging to his side filled my vision. "I said, what the fuck is wrong with you?!" he snarled, "You're blocking the doorway, get moving." The girl, maybe not the utter bimbo I initially had her stereotyped as, tugged at him to move along. "Come on, B. Don't be an ass, he's just stoned or something," she said. "Let's go, I want a shot, then I want to dance." With that she escorted him in the direction of the bar, then turned around and gave me an apologetic smile. I shrugged and shook the incident out of my mind. There were more people streaming through the doorway after I stepped aside. What had seemed like just a second to me had been much longer. I turned back to the dance floor, but the girl with the hypnotic stare was not there anymore. It was downhill from there that night. For a while I cruised the place, jumping from face to face, trying to locate her. Eventually I had to give up, and parked myself in a corner of the bar. The flesh market was still open, but for some reason, I found myself unable to enter the mindset of it all. A normal night I'd be working the room, downing vodka and chewing stylish but empty conversation with some fashionably tipsy hotbed of giggles and sensuous allure. An out in the open foreplay to the late hour's inevitable encore of cheap sex in expensive wrapping. But not tonight. Everything just felt out of tune. The music was dampened to a distant thumping, the smells of perfumes, smoke and sex all a pungent ooze that left nothing but distaste in my mouth instead of the titillating effect it used to have. My thoughts were sluggish, as if stuck in a muddy bog and slowly sinking. Was I sick? Was it a misfire of recreational chemicals? Was it just that lousy a party? No, this was something else, the lack of something that I had felt the touch of for a few, fleeting seconds, a connection into another world. Her, that enigma with the strange hair and the piercing eyes. For reasons that a more logical side of me desperately tried to battle with, I just couldn't let her go. "I'm sorry." It was a steady, smooth voice. Unwavering, crystal clear. I knew exactly whom it belonged to before I ever turned to face her. It was such a peculiar way to open a conversation that I forgot to put on my elaborate veneer of couldn't-care-less. I turned and found myself staring into the same radiant face that had caught my eyes in that magic moment before. She just gazed warmly back, her head tilted in a curious pose, and a small smile dancing on her lips. How long did I stay like that? Frozen in place, caught by a nexus of silent conversation while I frantically searched my memories for a lost vocabulary. "Sorry for what?" I finally managed to croak out. "I didn't mean to ruin your night. You weren't supposed to see me." Again an answer that defied all logic. She dressed to attract attention. But then again, so did everybody else. "I'm surprised you did." "Well, here you are," I said, tentatively tagging along whatever game she was playing. "And I see you just fine. So what now? Can I buy you a drink?" "No. No, you can't buy me a drink," she said. Probably the last answer I had been expecting, and delivered with such an easy air of matter-of-fact that it took me a few seconds to just process the impression. "And…why is that?" "Because there is no bar." There was no bar. There were no people, there was no party, there was no room. Where they had gone, or when, I had no idea. Just that all of a sudden there was nothing in the world but me and that amazing creature, a woman with hair that moved too slow and with not one straight answer. Stunned silent, I looked around me, trying to get my bearings. The stool I had been sitting on was just as gone as everything else, and I was literally hanging in thin air. Carefully, I eased myself from the non-chair and onto a floor that seemed to evade my gaze. All that was solid was the sensation of standing up. It was quiet in a way that suggested that there might be sound, but that if there was, it was not important. I realized that the same was valid for the physical room I was in. When I looked hard enough, I thought I might see hints of shapes, variations in the grey. Or that could just have been my imagination. It seemed like whatever the surroundings were, it wasn't quite real, and therefore didn't make the effort to materialise any more. The only thing to focus on was she, so that's what I did. "Don't be afraid," she said. "I'm not." And I wasn't. In retrospect I can't understand why not. However, in retrospect, not much of this makes sense anyway. I just know it happened, and what the hell, if I can amuse you for a while with this story of mine, then it's worth the effort. You may not believe a single word of it. See if I care. She just stood there, two steps away, eyeing me like I was eyeing her. The unapologetic strength in her eyes had faded away slightly now, and it seemed like she actually was a bit nervous. It made her all the more beautiful. Her delicious lips, the inviting curve of her neck, the mound of breasts tightly hugged by a shamelessly tiny purple dress that just screamed to be torn off, smooth thighs and knees just begging to be spread and wrapped around… I mentally slapped myself and managed to snap out of it. Fucking cobwebs of monkey brain horniness all of a sudden. What was I thinking? Here reality as I knew it had been tuned over the lap of faith and gotten a solid spanking, and my mind was in full rutting mode. What the hell was wrong with me? It didn't seem that the lady in question was aware of where my mind had just wandered off, though. She just stood there, seemingly anticipating my next move. "Not how you expected this night to turn out, I guess," she said with a smile. "If it's any consolation, the same can be said for me. I didn't expect such sharp sight, not in a place like this. You didn't see what other men see. What I wanted you to see. Some old people, yes. They spot me. Think I'm an angel, or devil, depending on what they expect to face. But almost never one as young as you." "You move…differently. Your hair. It never quite falls down." She laughed softly. "So that's what it was. I never thought it would give me away. " Again, a pause, and that enigmatic gaze. "I guess you have questions?" Did I have questions? "I don't even know where to fucking start. Where are we?" "Ah, yes. One of the difficult ones. I guess you could call this the VIP lounge of my life. Technically, we're at that bar. But in a slice of time that's mine when I need it. I don't know the science, I just go by feeling." "Alright, alright… doesn't really matter, now does it?" I said and took a deep breath. "I'm here and alive, so it can't be bad. I am alive, right? And you'll bring me back to where we were eventually?" "Of course," she said. "Alright then. My next question is probably easier. My name is Christopher. Christopher Blaine. What's yours?" She looked at me with those incredible eyes, but there was a hint of something. No, there was actually much more than a hint of honest pain in them now. When she replied, that clear and steady voice had an unmistakable quiver of high-strung nerves in it, and she spoke carefully, as if trying the words out for herself. "I'm not quite sure. But I think…I think it might be Manhattan." "Say what?" She took a step closer, then another. I could have reached out and touched her. My monkey brain made my arms twitch in that direction. But I didn't, I dared not move a muscle. It felt like if I did something wrong, this dream, this bizarre stage would flutter away like a butterfly. "I said, it might be Manhattan," she said. "But I'm not sure. Would you know who you are if nobody had ever told you? I just am, and I don't know where I…began. But please, let's not think about that now, it's a subject for another day. If you want to, I promise there will be another day for that. Talking about what I am just reminds me too much of what I'm not. And that really ruins my mood. Let's just focus on this: I chose you, and I took you here. It's just you and me. Nothing else, for as long as we wish. Now, what are you going to do about it?" My knees were shaking now. I felt her hands on my chest, moving up and over my shoulders. Soon her arms were wrapped around my neck, and her face just an inch from mine. My body was on autopilot, and before I knew it, my hands were on her back too. I felt her breath, on my cheek as she leaned in to whisper in my ear. "Christopher Blaine, what do you think of my body?" "What?" "You sure say that word a lot," she said with a warm giggle. "But seriously, is it good? All the right amounts in the right places? Does it look right, does it feel right?" With that she leaned in and pressed her chest against me. It was so utterly bizarre. I was in dreamland, in the twilight zone, in the Matrix mainframe, hell knows what was going on, and hell knows what that girl was. And hell knows why I wasn't out of my mind by then, screaming, tearing my hair and trying to climb walls that weren't there. But all I could think about was how wonderful she felt against me, how badly I wanted to put my mouth to her naked skin and suck until there was no unkissed spot left, how I longed to feel her gorgeous lips wrapped around the head of my cock, to drink the juices from between her legs, to sink deep inside and shoot load after load… Jesus, I was lost. But I wouldn't want it any other way. "Uh y-yeah. It's perfect," I managed to stutter. "Thank you," she murmured in my ear in a soft, reassuring voice. "I've only had a body for a little while, only since I started wondering what it was like, that thing that occupies your minds, day and night after night after night. Yes, I'm Manhattan. Or I could be. The past is a blur, and I've found no answer to what or why I am. At least I know this place is a part of me. I know all the souls, I hear every thought, see every dream, every secret little fantasy that makes your blood boil. But I didn't understand, because I didn't feel. I couldn't sense what you did. Not until now. And once I had one taste, the desire, the sensation, the madness of it all, I keep coming back for more. I play all your strange little games and tell my little white lies, just to feel. Just to be in that moment. You know what I'm talking about, don't you?" I felt her heart beat just inches from mine, the rhythm of her breath as the spoke, the slow rocking motion of her hips pressing into mine, almost like a dance to the music of her soft words filling up my head. I almost couldn't hear what she said anymore, that voice, that voice shut out everything else in the world. My sense of where I was or why seemed less and less like it really mattered. "Christopher, come on, help me feel. I think this might be it, you know. All the others, the lies and the acts I had to play… Yeah, sure, it was nice. But I know, I just know it can be much better. When I saw you I knew it could be different. If I didn't have to lie, if I could…relax and just give in to the moment." Her lips brushed by my cheek and over my mouth, and she whispered, so faintly it was barely audible. I might just have read the notion of the way her lips moved on top of mine. "Please, I need you. Come on, you're not afraid, are you?" I was a heartbeat from snapping, tearing away my last resistance and tearing that thin fabric off her body. I knew I was being had, the logical me had reluctantly taken the back seat and just noted for the record that there was something here messing with my head. Folding like a virgin in Vegas under any seductive moves, however perfect, wasn't me. But right then I didn't care. Something else held me back, though. "No…stop," I breathed and retreated a step. "Not here. In here it'd be different than the real thing. Can we go some place? Some place…I don't know…solid?" I could see the urgency burning in her eyes. First she looked almost furious that I backed off, but her expression softened, morphed into that unspoken question, a curious light behind her eyes and a small knowing smile. "You're right. You're absolutely right. So kiss me." She said it with such certainty, as if it was the most logical chain of notions, that I didn't even react. I just tightened my grip on her, pulled her delicious frame towards me again and held on for all I was worth as she at first pressed her lips gently against mine. Her tongue ventured in between my lips and I met it with the tip of my own. Just that single sensation, a soft connection of intimacy, sent my head spinning and set off the greed trigger. I sucked her tongue deeper into my mouth and savoured the peculiar, intoxicating mixture of vodka, peppermint, saliva and golden expectations. I was completely lost in the moment, the horizon of my awareness limited to the wet caressing of our tongues sliding together, our lips in a primal lock and our bodies clung close to each other. How long we stood like that, I have no idea. When we finally emerged from that powerful snapshot it was with a breathless tremble. I was surprised I still managed to stand up straight. As I slowly became aware of my surroundings, it was strikingly obvious that things had changed. The light was dampened. I saw walls, I felt a texture in the floor, I could hear the presence of something other than the void from moments before in the character of sounds. There was distant city street buzz. A faint siren was fading away. As my eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, I saw what must be a pretty moderate budgeted hotel room with all its tell-tales. The made double bed, the folded towels on the side, the kind of heavy blinds that you only see in hotel rooms and offices. It sure wasn't the honeymoon suite, which I felt grateful for. That would have been a bit too much. "Do you like it?" the woman still in my arms asked. "I've always imagined that this is what people mean when they say 'get a room'. Well, I got a room." Manhattan Bigmouth The young man had truly been blessed with everything a gay male could desire: unimaginable, good looks, great hair, adorable eyes and a fantastic body. Any guy, able to ignore him, would've been one gasp removed from cadaver status. I noticed him when he was still a block away. A big, handsome, young guy, he strutted , certain he was, indeed, the cock of the walk; and his cockiness was not without justification. Most guys, on passing him, looked back, repeatedly, hoping to catch him looking. The closer he came, the more excited I became. It's so strange, I thought, that whenever we see a really attractive guy, the first thing we want to do is to get our knees dirty. I was struck dumbfounded when it seemed he was going to enter the apartment building, where I was sitting on the step. "Yo, dog, you, kinda, like, live, here?" He asked, his wide smile displaying breathtakingly-beautiful, teeth. "Uhh, Yes," I answered nervously, "Yeah, I live here...what up?" "I Just, got in town, you know, like, about four hours ago." "Okay." I said..."So, Uh, yeah, welcome to Montreal," I said, returning his smile. "It's all kool, man, like, it's all good for ya, huh?" He asked, while giving the building a superficial appraisal. "Yep, like, it's super kool, man...oh, yeahhh, I like it mucho...Ya live alone here?" He asked, dropping his back-pack and sitting next to me. Without awaiting a reply, his smile widened as he added, "Uh, like, ya, kinda, married, er what, huh, dog?" "Yeah, I live here, alone and I'm not married" I told him; I was extremely curious to know where we were going with this. "Hey, hey, hey, kool, amigo," he sang, sounding like he was breaking into a Rap song. "Yeah, like real-mucho awesome!" Had he not been so goddam gorgeous, I definitely would not have answered his prying questions. I guessed we were close to the same age- early twenties. Maybe he was a little younger than me; Tousled, dark hair, reminding me of a sheep Dog, poked out from a New York Yankee's ball cap, worn backwards. "Hey, man, like, ya mind telling me why, like, you're layin' this third degree on me?" I laughed so he wouldn't think I was totally pissed-off with him, though, I undoubtedly would've been had it been almost anyone else. He continually used the words, like, kinda and sorta, liberally and haphazardly sprinkling them in most unlikely places. I attempted to mimic him, hoping it would ingratiate me with him, as well as make him feel I was on the leading edge. "Mus' cost ya a bundle...I mean like, here, in Buckingham Palace? "I manage," I said, modestly. "Yeah, like, I been, kinda, lookin' fer a place, like, a place with mucho class, like this one. Ohh, man," he groaned, exaggeratedly, "My freakin' legs are fallin' off from all the goddam walking...So, like, how much ya pay, anyways?" He asked, then, acting like a Rockefeller, added, "Not that it matters...you're like, sorta gay, huh,-" "Aw, c'mon, man, you're getting a bit personal, aren't ya?" I interrupted. "Well, like...I sorta think a guy should sorta know if his roommate's gay, er not...don't you?" "Sure, Like, and how about yourself, you're kinda gay, huh?" I asked, defensively. "Okay, okay, no need to bother about details right now," he said, authoritatively, adding some sort of hand movement that looked like he was erasing from a chalkboard. "I, kinda, sorta think I should maybe reboot. It's gotta be a virus or spyware or something." He really laughed at that. "Wow, man, like, right on, you've got a computer, huh? Like, high speed, huh, I hope; got no patience for that freakin' dial up crap? Speakin' of crap, roomie, can I use your can..like, you know, I really need to go?" He asked, his back-pack already in his hand. It sure as hell wasn't easy to conceal my excitement when he emphasized his urgency by holding onto his dick. I was reading something important into his every move. How is a sane person supposed to handle an insane situation, such as this, I wondered. I didn't want to refuse him, yet, I felt extremely uncomfortable, thinking I could be allowing a certifiable psychopath into my apartment. "You'll have to excuse the mess," I said, apologetically. "My cleaning...ahh, person isn't due till tomorrow." Nervous, as I surely was, I still scrutinized his jiggling butt, as he quickly climbed the stairs ahead of me. My apartment door had not fully closed behind us before he'd thrown his back-pack onto a chair and was off to examine the place; his urgent need was, obviously, no longer a priority. "Man, orb that fuckin' king-size bed," he shouted, admiringly. "That baby looks, sorta, like it's the real thing." Then, stretching out on his stomach, his butt bounced, provocatively, as he humped the mattress. "Ohhh, yeah, like, real kool, man, sorta, like, wake me in a couple of hours, okay?" He asked, pretending to snore. The living room was the last place to be checked out. Right away, he inspected the sofa. His few, perfunctory bounces resulted in an expression clearly indicating it had, definitely, flunked his expert fornication test. "Hey, dog, am I gonna have to sleep on this, while you're all alone on a bed the size of Manhattan Island?" "Have you always been this shy and withdrawn?" I asked, facetiously. "Besides, like, dog, you haven't been invited to sleep anywhere, yet." "Yeah, okay, okay, I know; you think I'm a little pushy, don't ya? Well, let me tell you, man, like, in New York they'd trample all over ya if ya weren't a loudmouth; me, I'm, sorta, considered, like, middle-of-the-road, 'specially by the Manhattanuts...Like, you never been in Manhattan?" He asked, incredulous that there could be anyone who'd never had that experience. "Yeah, well, like, you're in Montreal, now...and I don't consider you normal in any way," I said, laughing at his exaggerated expression of shock. "Okay, enough about that," he said, authoritatively, again, "Let's move on...Our legal people can get together to iron out details, if you're okay with that." "Actually, I think, like, maybe we're not, at all, on the same page. There are a few things I'd like to know about you; for example, I'd like to know your name and I'd just love to know how come your sudden need to use the bathroom, the only reason you're here, incidentally, was satisfied by simply peering into the room?" "Yeah...yeah, that was a, kinda, weird one, huh? I suppose it was 'cause of excitement over the magnificence of your mini Taj Mahal. It just. kinda, made me forget I needed to go. That often happens, you know." He told me, reassuringly. "I'm Chris...Christopher Thornton, twenty-three and six-foot-one. I was born in Montreal and moved in here when I was eighteen; my parents live close-by. This is the kinda, like, the stuff I'd like to know about you, capice?" "Si, I understand. I'd, sorta, like to introduce Keith Obrien," he laughed, offering his hand. "I'm gonna, sorta, be nineteen, like, in another month...Last time, I got measured I was five-eleven and a bit, like, in bare feet. I was born in Manhattan and I lived there, like, till four days ago, like, till My parents, sorta, turfed me out with the garbage; that, the kinda stuff you wanted to know about?" he asked, laughing. "Is that true?" I asked, incredulously..."Your parents threw their own son out on the street?" "Yep, but they, sorta, had no choice..like, If I'd been willing to apologize and beg the Elders for forgiveness it would've, kinda, all blown over, but no goddam way was I gonna let them run my freakin life; I don't mean my parents, I mean the church Elders." "What the hell are you talking about. This sounds so weird, man, I've got no idea what what you mean?" "It's all about religion, like, I refused to apologize for my "questionable" lifestyle, so they Disfellowshipped me. That meant no church members, including my own family, were allowed to talk to me...My parents had no choice; I sorta refused to let those religious despots tell me how I should live." "Well, what were you supposed to apologize for?" "You name it. They just didn't approve of my lifestyle. You know, ya probably won't believe it but the church says you can't even get a tattoo or smoke...Fuck, man, like yer not even allowed to celebrate Christmas or your own freakin' birthday...It's goddam ridiculous-" "But," I interrupted, "What was it , like, what the hell did you do, specifically?" "I was, like, workin' for this church member, who was a close friend of my father, driving a delivery truck. I , kinda, had a magazine I used to look at durin' my lunch break. I used to, like, sorta, hide it under the seat, ya know, like, so the guy that worked the next shift wouldn't see it...One time, he had to break hard an' the freakin' book went flyin'. Of course, he was a church member also and had to report me to the Board of Elders. So, there you have it," he said, splitting his face with a wide grin. I hoped he wouldn't notice me, continually, checking out his basket, although, I thought, maybe it would speed things up. "Why did you decide to come to Montreal?" "I didn't. It was an unconscious decision," he said, smiling as though to himself. "I hitched for four, freakin' days, like, intending to get dropped off around Plattsburgh...I've, sorta, got a friend there, but I have this problem, ya see. I get hypnotized by the sound of the tires an' I, kinda, fall asleep. Well, I woke up an' I'm in a big metropolis. I ask the guy, 'Hey, man, where the fuck are we?' I nearly crapped when he told me we were in Montreal...Ya know what, Chris?" "What?" I asked, impatiently. I hated when somebody asks, 'you know what'?. "I stink like a sewer," he said, sniffing himself before getting up from the sofa, "I gotta shower, I can't stand myself." My job, writing for The Gazette, allowed me to do most of my work at home, but it felt very different now, with someone singing, off key, in the shower. Staring at the lank page on the screen I saw water cascading down keith's body. The sound of flowing water stopped, I could see him toweling and wished I was in there with him. Maybe he's thinking about me, I hoped. I turned from the computer when I sensed he was behind me. A shiver ran through my body and I thought I was going to cum in my pants. Completely naked, He wasn't more than an arm's length from me, drying his hair. On the occasions when the towel covered his face I was able to ogle his crotch and drool, longingly, over his long, uncircumcised cock. His smooth, nibble-length foreskin clearly showed an outline of his perfect, throat-sized, knob. Was he deliberately teasing me, I wondered, when he turned the TV on and, still naked, sat on the sofa with his legs provocatively placed on the coffee table. Whenever I believed he was watching the picture, I'd shoot a glance at him and long for the cock that was pointing directly at me. I could understand, now, why web-cams were so popular. Keith's fantastically tanned body screamed for a tongue-licking. I assumed he worked out religiously; his impressive abs, pecs and triceps were ample proof. "Watcha doin', Chris, like, what're ya writing?" He asked, while, unconsciously, perhaps, gently twisting and tugging the excess foreskin between his thumb and index finger. I gulped loudly enough that I felt embarrassed; he must've heard. " I'm working on a prostitution article for the newspaper," I managed to blurt out before my voice could crack. Unable to endure any more of his torture-pleasure combo, I got a sheet, pillows and blankets for him. As I placed them beside him, I detected a cock-tingling scent of sex. "See ya in the morning, keith, sleep tight." I muttered, almost falling over the coffee table in my haste to get away from him. I knew I wouldn't sleep. My mind was frozen on the adorable, naked doll on the sofa. It was unbearable, knowing he was so near and, yet, so unattainable. I heard the fridge door bang shut, the toaster pop and dishes rattling, but I must've dozed off, 'cause I didn't remember anything more until I heard a faint call "Chris," he called, almost inaudibly. followed by a moment of silence, then, "Chris, you awake?" I waited. "Chris," he whispered, once more, before very carefully slipping under the cover. I'll never understand why my shivering body didn't shake the entire bed My breathing was already loud and uneven, and it got even worse when I felt his body heat. Why had he called me, so softly, I asked myself...was it because he didn't want to disturb my sleep. Or, did he not want me to wake up, hoping he could sleep through the night without my knowing he'd slept with me. Considering he was the most forward guy I'd ever come across, surely, he wouldn't have been shy to make a move on me, if he had wanted to. This Is dumb, I told myself. I should move on him, right now. Why I should continue with the stress and anxiety. So what, if he freaks; I'm bigger than him; he can't beat me up. He could only hurt me verbally, dress and leave. I wouldn't want him around here, anyway, after that...and most likely, I'd never see him again. So, why not roll the dice? Slowly, my hand slid closer and closer to the prize. Finally, It rested, lightly, on his dick. His only reaction was a short gasp; he obviously, wanted me to think he was still sleeping. holding his foreskin between my thumb and finger, I did what I'd watched him doing on the sofa. "I'm madly in love with your cock, Keith," I softly whispered in his ear. "What the fuck! he exclaimed, suddenly, springing to an upright position. Embarrassed, beyond words, my face began to burn. Then, laughing, hilariously, he tossed his leg over me to position himself directly over my face. "Thanks, Chris...you're sweet," he said, still laughing, heartily. The pearly gates finally swung open when he maneuvered a large testicle into my mouth. His exciting scent caused my pre-cum to flow. Excitedly, I licked him everywhere on his balls, repeatedly sucking them, one after the other, before licking from his nuts to the start of his butt crack. "It was obvious he wanted me to continue up the valley, but that was for my finale. I pushed the foreskin back, with my lips, to lick the large, pre-cum- slicked knob. He squirmed with delight when I nibbled the sensitive area under his pee hole. "Take it in yer mouth," he ordered, lifting my head and pulling my face tightly against his crotch. "Ohh, my god, Chris," he murmured, "It's, like, so fuckin' incredibly fantastic when it's in your throat." He'd lunged so quickly and unexpectedly, I had almost thrown up, but still, it was a little bit of Heaven. While he was humping my face, I lubricated my longest finger with my pre-cum and stuck up his butt. He moaned, ecstatically, when I finally touched his prostate gland. "Lie on your back, keith." I lifted him till he was supported on his shoulders. I vigorously, licked up and down his ass crack. Whenever my tongue neared his hole he pressed hard, wanting it all in his ass. Having teased him long enough, I ferreted my tongue as far as possible into his twitching butt until he screamed for an orgasm. I deep-throated the slippery knob, working it over with my muscle; that along with a finger in his butt did the job, to perfection. "Aww...holy fuck, Keith, suck it hard, baby,...I'm cumming." I thought his cum would never stop pumping. I kept his cum in my in my mouth to savour it, for a while, before swallowing. "Like, oh, man... fuck, that was the first time I ever had my ass eatin' out; Yeah, baby, I sure wanna do that, again." "Were you hoping to get through the night without my knowing you were in the bed, Keith?" "Believe me, Chris, like, incredible as it may seem, we, sorta, came very close to touching one another, simultaneously," he replied, still breathless. "Keith, believe me, knowing that makes all the difference in the world to me." "Oh, wow! Keith exclaimed, "My back teeth are floating; If I don't take a piss, right now, I'm gonna burst," he said, rushing for the bathroom. "Wait for me, Keith!" I shouted, chasing after him, "it's a perfect time for me to realize one of my fantasies!" "What d'ya wanna do? "Never mind, just, just don't start without me!" Chris shouted. Manhattan By Day I watched my lover Synthia walk across the main exhibition hall of the Javits Center. My company was in the middle of a trade show; for those of us in the IT/Networking business, participating in the fall Interop technology show was on the list of "Must Do" events we did every year, and while most of our company's team were sales and marketing people, the demonstration kiosks set up on our booth all needed the care and feeding of staff of a more technical orientation. This year, I had drawn the short straw. A week of polished dress shoes, company-logo bearing polo shirts and slacks; no sweats, no Warcraft t-shirts shouting my allegiance to the Alliance, no sandals nor tennis shoes. Synthia, my on-again, off-again lover of some years, had decided to take vacation time from her day job and accompany me to New York City, with the understanding that while the mornings and daylight hours were - at least for me - a time for work, the after-show hours and the weekend following before we returned home were for us. Not wanting to disappoint her, I'd taken great care in doing some planning, and splurged on two pairs of tickets to two Broadway productions; Synthia was a great appreciator of musicals, and I'd managed to score decent seats to Wicked and Aida; the first would delight her, as she had devoured the books by Gregory Maguire, and the second was a magnificent, romantic score that I'd hoped she'd love. Other nights had other plans; certain restaurants I knew she had seen in movies, like Serendipity 3 on East 60th Street, and the like, plus a special surprise for our last night in the city. So when I went off to hail a taxi from our hotel, she'd given me a sloppy, affectionate kiss and dropped back into the bed; I might have to be on duty by seven AM, but for her it was a week of sleeping in and shopping to her heart's content during the day. "Clearly, she's already been shopping", I thought, watching her approach our booth. The sultry sway to her hips and the intent look on her face gave me the impression of a tigress stalking her prey through the halls rather than someone interested in technology. She looked magnificent, clad in a professional-looking blue blouse which buttoned up the front, black stockings, low-heeled black sandals, and a mid-length black raw silk skirt which ended just above her knee. She caught and held my eye as she approached, and beckoned me to her with a sideways nod of her head. I told one of the salesmen I was going to look around, and that if there was a technical problem, to give me a call. Once off our display area, I increased my pace to catch up with her, closing the distance just as we approached the cafe that had been set up by the show. "You get a seat, I'll get us something sweet" she said, turning into the line, leaving me to hunt for a rare open table. I found one in the corner, as far back from the service area as could be; most of their customers were in a hurry to get on with their business, so all the nearer tables were usually occupied by an ever-changing string of customers eating their pastries and drinking their coffee drinks. I sat down with my back to the wall - old habit from my mis-spent youth - and waited for her while she made her way to the front of the line, placed our order, and came to the table. "Cafe Mocha for you, and hot chocolate for me" she said, sitting down gracefully, setting the drinks on the table before us. "Well, this is a pleasant surprise," I remarked, smiling. "I thought you might like to take a small break from the 'be-all-serious-business' stuff for awhile," she replied. "I mean, you've had to work all morning... I've gotten to play..." I raised by eyebrows and smirked at her, silently asking her to elaborate. "I woke up and ordered room service... and then put on my robe," she continued, her voice turning low and soft so that only I would hear. She had brought a black satin robe that came to mid-thigh, and matched the color of her hair. "While I waited for breakfast, I brushed out my hair so that it was nice and shiny; I would have much preferred that you had been their to do it... it always feels so... indulgent and sensual... When I was finished, I decided to be a cocktease, and started touching my breasts... slowly brushing them with my fingers, feeling my nipples grow stiff and hard against the soft silk of the robe." She paused, her eyes narrowing, re-living the sensual experience. One of her hands left the table and cupped her breast through her blouse, her fingers seeking her nipple to tug it, briefly. "Just like that, in fact... when I answered the door for the room service waiter, you might say he got a nice tip... or at least, a nice view of two tips. His eyes never rose above my chest, you know..." "Why would they?" I commented. "Mmmm... why indeed? After he left, I lay back on the bed, and felt how wet teasing the poor fellow had gotten me... I do so love to tease a cock until it salutes me..." Chuckling, she used her finger to take a dollop of whipped cream from her hot chocolate and offered it to me. I took it, kissing her finger slowly. "Did you finish?" I asked. Synthia chuckled again. "I'd barely begun. I showered, and went clothes shopping. I bought these shoes.... " She paused, rubbing her feet against my calf. "I bought those silk stockings... they're held up my a garter belt, which you'll just have to imagine until later. I bought this skirt... and I bought this blouse." Her hands came up to the top button, and unbuttoned it. She proceeded down the row of buttons that held her blouse closed. "And I bought a bra and panty set... sheer white nylon... it feels so good against my skin, and I love the way it cups my ass... if I can't have your fingers, its one of the next best things." I glanced around, but nobody was paying us a bit of attention. "What are you doing?" I asked, smiling. "Showing you what I bought, silly!" she replied, opening her blouse so that I could see her purchase. The bra was indeed white nylon. And virtually transparent. "Very nice," I croaked, taking a long sip of my mocha. For some reason, my throat had gone dry. "Yes, I really like it... " she said. She dipped two fingers in her hot chocolate, and rubbed those fingers against her nipple. "Come get a taste of something sweet" she purred, daring me. We both leaned over the table so I could reach. My lips and teeth locked over the turgid nipple, biting hard - which is what she wants when being a cocktease - and sucking the chocolate from the material. The hot chocolate was lousy. The nipple was amazing. She pulled back, and I pulled her nipple with my teeth, letting it go with a heavy theatrical sigh of regret. "Naughty boy, you've gone and made my puss all wet..." she accused, as if it had clearly been my fault. She began to button up her blouse. "Just for that, no more looking for you!" Clearly, I was at fault for her offering me a chocolate-flavored nipple. She stood, and scooted her chair around until she was sitting close beside me instead of across the table. Sitting back down, she raised her skirt until her panty-clad ass was sitting on the chair. "Good for you, I have panties, or I'd be getting the chair all wet" she said. Her legs were spread wide enough I could see the transparent panties in question. They were quite damp and quite translucent. I tried to not stare at her virtually naked pussy. I failed. "I don't believe you're all that wet..." I mumbled, smiling. Her hand came down, and moved the panties aside while her other hand parted the folds of her labia, rubbing with her fingers. "No? Then explain this?" she said, putting her wet fingers to my lips, wiping a wide swath of her cum-honey across my upper lip. Her scent was intoxicating. Before I could take her fingers into my mouth, she removed them and stood up. "Break time is over, my precious geek. Back to your hovel!" she commanded, leaning forward to bestow a kiss upon me. She took the opportunity to whisper in my ear "I so can't wait for you to come back to the hotel and fuck me hard... if I was braver, I'd let you fuck me here somewhere... I need your cum in me... my mouth, my cunt, my ass... come home soon, darling. I won't start without you." With that she bit my earlobe and stepped back, smoothing her skirt. "See you tonight, then?" she teased, turning to leave the hall. "Soon as I can, my sweet," I replied. I wondered if it was too late to call in sick. Manhattan By Night Synthia looked stunning in her new dress. It was a grey sweater-dress, clingly in all the right places, but warm on this chilly Manhattan night. Black stockings, the material woven in an intricate whirl pattern, and two-inch black heels completed her outfit; Synthia didn't often wear jewelry, and he had often commented that next to her sparkling eyes and sweet smile any gemstones would be dull and lifeless in comparison. He held the door to the taxicab as she entered, and followed her, envying the back seat that was able to cup her exquisite ass. They had tickets for Wicked later, and they were headed for dinner beforehand. She had been quite the tease all week long, and while she had certainly made it up to him when he had returned home after a long day on the trade show floor. Several nights had involved changes in plans, but room service had been adequate, and Synthia had made quite a delectable dessert. Today had been the last day of the show, and he was looking forward to the weekend with her, able to go do horribly touristy things together at last. He gave the taxicab driver instructions, and relaxed, cuddling up to his paramour. Synthia sighed contentedly, and snuggled up in his arms' embrace. They nuzzled all the way to the restaurant as Synthia told him about her day; she had taken the opportunity to visit museums that she'd wanted to see, but in which she suspected he had little interest. They arrived at the restaurant. The restaurant was named "Punishment". "What kind of a restaurant is this?" asked Synthia. "I mean, what kind of place considers eating there a sort of punishment?" "Maybe they're planning on making me do the cooking," he quipped. "Surely that would punish the patrons enough that the restaurant could not be accused of violating truth-in-advertising laws." Synthia leaned over and kissed him briefly. "Goofball." He held the door as they entered the restaurant. He had made reservations, and they were seated. Synthia observed that the restaurant staff - male and female alike - were clad in leather outfits of various sorts. "What exactly is on the menu here....?" she asked, a nervous grin on her face. "What, is the menu written in French?" he replied, checking the menu. For all he knew, it was written in French, after all. Their server came to the table. She was a slightly-built brunette with short-cropped hair, dressed in a leather buster and panties, flats, and little else. "Good evening. My name is Rochelle, and I'll be taking care of your needs tonight" the server said in a soft, sultry voice. "May I get you a drink to begin?" "Red sangria for the lady, and I'll have a diet soda", he ordered. The server went off to fetch their drinks, revealing that her leather panties were cut in thong style. After consulting with her about her preferences, he ordered their meal, and as Synthia ate her chicken, she noticed that the floor of the restaurant was dominated by a small stage, upon which was built a large rectangular wooden frame, perhaps seven feet in height and five feet wide. Over the course of the meal, several patrons were brought up to the frame, and secured to it via the leather cuffs and chains that were attached at various points. What happened then varied, presumably in accord with the instructions of the patron; some were spanked by the patron, some were lightly castigated with small leather whips. Besides the frame was a small tray, that the servers called "the dessert tray", containing an assortment of paddles, whips, and other assorted devices. Finally, Rochelle returned. "May I tempt you with dessert? Perhaps some coffee?" she asked. "An expresso for me, and tea for my lady, if you will, and tiramisu for the lady as well" he answered. "Has she been a good girl, then?" the server asked, an arch to her eyebrow. Synthia blushed, partially in shock at the server asking the question, and partially in fear of what he would answer. "She's been a right cocktease all week, actually," he declared matter-of-factly. "And yet you let her have dessert? You are a generous Master" the server commented. "Well, I do love her so... its hard to deny her aught she desires," he temporized. "Well, this will never do... " the server said, turning towards Synthia. "Madame, if you will rise and come with me?" Synthia felt her blush go even deeper. She glanced at her Master, who merely looked at her and nodded. Synthia knew that if she didn't want to, she could refuse, with no repercussions; he was, in essence, asking for her trust and indulgence. She also knew that he would never let things get out of hand, but she was curious as to what he had arranged. She took the proffered hand and followed the server to the stage upon which the stage rested. He rose and followed the two of them to the stage, kissing her as she allowed first her wrists, then her ankles to be restrained. She was nervous, but not afraid... and not a little aroused. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have a special treat tonight... what we call a wave. When we do a wave, we ask that anyone who desires to participate line up either in front or behind the frame, and as you pass, please let your hands reach out and caress her wherever you should desire. You may not linger, however, nor are you allowed to touch under whatever garments her Master leaves upon her. Now, please line up as her Master prepares her." Butterflies rioted in Synthia's tummy as she digested this. "Your 'punishment' for a week of cock-teasing, my delicious little slut..." he whispered in her ear, biting her neck and shoulder. His hands roamed across her dress, and she imagined the patrons of the restaurant gazing upon her, as she had watched others get what they desired. She watched as two lines - one behind her, and one in front of her - began to form, and she noted that the lines were almost equal parts men and women, and included some of the restaurant staff. "First... you don't get to see it coming...." he cooed as he fitted a soft blindfold over her head. She moaned softly as his hands ran over the front of the dress, touching her breasts in an intimate manner, and then his strong hands moved downwards, to the hem of her dress, which came just above the knees. "So... stay-up stockings, or garter belt..." he rhetorically asked, moving the hem up her thighs with an agonizing slowness. "I'm going to find out... we're all going to find out..." She grinned. His investigations were about to reveal a surprise she had planned for his eyes only later in the evening. "Oh dear..." he said as he bunched the stretchy, clingy material above her waist. He heard her chuckle at his reaction. "A cock-teaser to the end, I see..." he commented. She had decided not wear a one-piece bodysuit under the dress rather than be bothered with lingerie lines under the dress; under the dress she wore a tiny black lace g-string, more to entice him when he undressed her later than to actually cover herself in any meaningful fashion. Now, with the dress hiked around her waist, she was exposed to everyone. "Don't worry, cara mia... I'll be right here," he reassured her. She refrained from mentioning that she was not afraid; she was excited, and growing more aroused my the moment in anticipation of strangers' hands touching her as they passed her by, under the inspection of their eyes and fingers. She caught her breath imagining all the men in which she would cause erections, and even more wickedly, of all the pussies that would become aroused because she was displayed before them like this, helplessly at their indulgence for their own excitement. She wondered how many of the women would go home this night and achieve orgasm with Synthia in their mind's eye as they masturbated or fucked their partners. Then she heard a click, and the low hum of a vibrator. "Oh, you didn't think I was going to let you be neglected, did you?" he chuckled. She jumped as she felt him run the vibrator over her dress-covered breasts, and her nipples ached against the thin bodystocking fabric and dress. The line began. The restaurant patrons moved slowly, giving each participant a few seconds of indulgence against her body as they passed. Her breasts, her thighs, her ass, her lips.... each patron touched the part of her that attracted them most. She writhed in her bonds, struggling enticingly as her Master ran the vibrator over her body, occasionally handing it to the patrons. As the line progressed, more and more of them asked for the vibrator, and more and more of them focused their attention on her g-string, above where her clit would be. She found herself regretting the decision to wear a body stocking; it prevented some of the bolder patrons from "cheating" and slipping their fingers under the edges of the g-string, and she wanted them to touch her bare cunt. Finally, the line was over... but he had not finished. In front of the eyes of the patron, he used the vibrator on her mercilessly, teasing moan after mortified moan out of her. She became so wet her moisture began to seep down her thighs, and her body bucked under his ministrations. "Loudly... I want my sweet slut to cum loudly tonight... " he whispered. "If you don't, I'll just have to leave you here and continue until you cum loud enough for my satisfaction. She didn't disappoint him, pressing herself forward against the vibrator. She screamed her orgasm, which crashed over her body in waves, and seemed to go on and on. She felt her wrists and ankles being freed, her dress smoothed down over her hips and back into place. She leaned on his arm, still blindfolded, as their audience erupted with applause and whistles. She blushed furiously, but was quite pleased with her performance, and still aroused. He removed her blindfold at the table, and tucked it into his pocket - a souvenir for the both of them of this night. "You are in soooooo much trouble, Mister!" she said as they sipped their tea and coffee, nibbling on their tiramisu. "I'm terrified" he remarked dryly. "You should be!" she confirmed. After all, payback was a bitch, or so it was said. Manhattan Madness Chapter 1 Jim Andrews stared through the window of the plane as it came in for a landing at LaGuardia. He had never seen anything as impressive as the island of Manhattan; it looked like every square inch of the island was filled with a skyscraper. At 18 years of age, the biggest city he had ever traveled to had been Des Moines. When his sister, Elizabeth, had written to him and asked him if he wanted to come visit her, he'd jumped at the chance. Life on the family farm was anything but exciting. He felt the same urge as his sister had - to get out of the backwater burg their family lived in back in eastern Nebraska. He admired the way Elizabeth had just tore out one night, leaving a note for their parents that she was going to travel and see what else was out there in the world. That had been 3 years ago and no one in the family had seen her since. Occasionally a postcard would come, addressed to him, from different cities around the country. Chicago, New Orleans, Dallas...but never with a return address. Then, a few weeks ago, a letter. And then a week later, a round trip ticket from Lincoln. The plane was coming in low now over the Long Island Sound. He'd studied a map in the family Encyclopedia Britannia; probably outdated but he doubted they had changed the name of the Sound. He looked over again at Manhattan, still not believing his sister had made it this far from home. Jim came out of the airline gate exit, walking in the midst of other passengers. He moved forward, swinging his head from side to side, looking for Beth. He tried to keep in mind, as he scanned the faces around him, that his sister was sure to have changed in the three years she'd been gone. The crowd began to thin away, people meeting their families and heading for baggage claim. Jim was beginning to feel dumb, standing there with his head swiveling around. "Jim?!" He looked around and there she was - his big sister, Elizabeth. Man, had she ever changed! When she'd left, she'd had short brown hair and the fashion sense of any other teenage girl from eastern Nebraska, namely jeans and T-shirts. But now there was a wild looking girl...no, woman...in tight black Lycra pants, a bright red half-shirt that left her stomach bare and a tan suede jacket with lots of tassels swinging everywhere. Her hair was now blondish, long, over her shoulders with a tight crimp-curl. "Look at my baby brother -- all grown up!" Beth said as she walked up to him and gave him a big hug which he returned with equal affection. "Beth, man, I've missed you...look at you!" He let her go and motioned to her attire. "You look like a fashion model or something." "What, these old things!" Beth laughed. "When in New York, do as the Yorkers do. Come on, let's go get your bags. I'm sorry I was late...it was hell getting a taxi today." "You don't have a car?" Jim said. "No one in New York has a car. There's barely enough room for people... you'll see. This the most remarkable city in the world...tomorrow I can show you around, do the tourist thing." "Sounds good to me," Jim said as they headed down the concourse. * * * * * * * In the cab on the way to Elizabeth's place, they caught up a little on the three intervening years. Elizabeth asked about the old town, the high school, if he knew anything about any of her old friends. Jim pumped her for the things she had seen on her travels, how she liked New York, etc. Beth seemed to want to steer away from the topic of why she hadn't kept in touch with the family more; she would just say that it was probably best for everyone, then added she hadn't wanted to worry them. "So, tell me, little brother, do you have a girlfriend back there?" "Well, I've had my share but I'm free at the moment. Why? You got someone you want to set me up with while I'm here?" "No, I was just wondering. When I left, you were in the 'girl's are yucky' stage." Elizabeth laughed. "Yeah, well, I came to my senses." Jim smiled as the taxi slowed and pulled to the curb in front of a tall brick building. "This is it," Beth said as she opened her door. A few minutes later, Beth was opening the door to her fifth story apartment loft. She walked in and hit the lights as her brother carried his case in. "Holy shit! This place is great," Jim complimented her as he looked around. The apartment had real high ceiling, wood floors, cool furniture. "Glad you like it. You can put your bag in here." Beth walked over to a door and turned on the light. He went into the bedroom and dumped his bag on the bed. The room was modern looking and clean. Overhead there was a skylight that was sure to let all the light in in the morning; sleeping in was going to be tough. "You'll be staying in here...this is my room usually. I'll be sharing my roommate's bedroom while you're here." "Roommate?" "Yeah, did you think I could afford this place by myself?" "I don't know. What kind of a job do you have?" Jim asked. "I'm a hostess at a club here in town. A really trendy place. It's private, in fact." "And what, you're on a salary?" "Yeah, but most of the money comes from tips. The members are loaded.. it's really easy work. Just a lot of smiling. Anyway, I hope you're hungry, I'm going to make us some dinner." "I'm starving...the food on the plane was pretty bad." "Good. Go ahead and unpack and I'll get things going." Beth left him, pulling off her suede coat as she went into the living area. Jim watched her leave and for the first time thought of how attractive Beth had become. She had to know that the clothes she wore left little to the imagination. The tight pants showed off her fine legs and cute bottom. Jim put his clothes in some empty drawers and took his toiletries into the bathroom. Being a neat person by habit, he opened the medicine cabinet to see if there was enough room for his deodorant and shaver. And was surprised to find the cabinet totally empty. Not a bottle of pills, not a pair of tweezers, not a jar of nail polish -- nothing. He opened the drawers by the sink and found them empty as well. The absence of any girlie items anywhere in the bathroom struck him as curious. He didn't think Beth had emptied everything out and taken it into her roommate's bathroom; no reason to go to all that trouble, just take the essentials over. The bathroom looked like it wasn't even being used. Jim stowed his stuff in the drawer, kicked off his shoes and went out to see what his sister was making for dinner. "Whoa! Who is this?" Jim said as he looked at a picture of his sister and another woman near the entrance to the kitchen. "Oh, that's Julie, my roommate...well, don't walk on your tongue!" Beth said as she took a bowl out of the cupboard. Julie looked like most men's ideal woman. In the picture, she was standing next to Beth with her arm around his sister's shoulders. Beth was probably 5' 7". Unless Beth was standing in a hole, Julie must have been at least 6' 2". Julie had black hair, worn to mid-back with lots of body. Her face was attractive -- sort of tough looking but it certainly could be overlooked. Hips that flared nicely, legs that looked like she had worn out a couple of Stairmasters....It was Julie's body from the neck down that probably stopped men in their tracks. Julie was stacked. Big round tits with a lot of cleavage showing. No way those are real, Jim thought to himself. Finally he moved on into the kitchen where Beth was smiling at him knowingly. "Yeah, she gets that reaction a lot," Beth said as he leaned against the counter. "I bet she does. Is that all her?" Jim said as he motioned with his hand over his chest. "No...but she says it was the best $5000 she ever spent." "$5000?! What kind of work does she do? That's a lot of money." "Well...she's an agent, I guess. She hooks people up," Beth said. "Like how?" Jim was intrigued. "Well, she sorta acts like a headhunter." Beth continued after Jim gave her a quizzical look. "She's like a talent agent, finding people for jobs." "Oh, I see." "Don't let her looks fool you," Beth said as she opened the refrigerator and handed him a beer. "She's a smart cookie, too." "So how did you two meet?" "At a gym. I was living with this guy for awhile, a real jerk as it turns out, but anyway, I could use his pass for his health club. Julie and I just got talking and we hit it off. She's probably the best friend I've ever had. She pay's for the lion's share of the expenses for this place." "Well, you've really fallen in it here...penthouse apartment, good job...it sure beats milking the cows at 5 A.M." "Oh God, don't remind me!" Beth said as she opened a beer for herself. Jim heard the front door open. Beth did too. "That must be Julie," she said to Jim. "JUUULLLEEESS!" "YEEAHH!" "Well, come and meet her," Beth said as she took her brother's hand. They exited the kitchen walking into the dining area and there she was -- and the picture didn't do her justice. She was looking through a stack of mail, wearing a form fitting short dress. She looked up then and jerked her head to the side, sending her hair over her shoulder. It was a quick natural movement but Jim got the feeling she had waited until they could see her before she did it. "Julie, this is Jim." "So this is your little brother." Julie said as she walked over to them, the emphasis on the word 'little'. "I'd hate to see your 'big' brother." Jim liked the fact that Julie was complimenting him on his physique. He was 5' 11" with muscle from working long hours around the family farm. Julie extended her hand and Jim shook it. "Nice to meet you, Julie." he said and meant it, willing himself not to look at her fantastic chest. Julie would be fodder for many a night of lonely masturbation. "You got a nice strong grip, Jim. You work out?" "Nah. Just work around the farm," he said. "Baling hay, other exciting stuff." "Yeah, Lizzie's told me all about the farm life," Julie said with a wry smirk. Julie bend slightly and gave Elizabeth a peck on her cheek. Elizabeth looked at Jim after it happened but then Julie continued, "So what do you kids have planned for tonight." Jim guessed Julie was maybe 30; certainly older than he at 18 and Elizabeth at 21. Being called a 'kid' made Jim twinge but he got the feeling that was just the way Julie was...like she wanted to get a reaction. "Nothing tonight." Beth said. "I'm whipping up some dinner and I thought we'd just relax." "I just stopped by to get another pair of shoes," Julie said. "I've got a meeting later, so I'll have to pass on dinner. I'll be back around 11. You'll still be up, right?" "Oh sure, you know me," Beth replied. "All right then, I'll see you both later." Julie walked off toward the door to the other bedroom on the other side of the apartment. Jim watched her bottom all the way. Beth punched him in the arm to bring him out of it. "You men are all alike!" she said giggling as she went back into the kitchen. Jim followed her. "So shoot me. There's nothing like that back on the farm...Lizzie." "Don't you start with the Lizzie, too. Julie started calling me that but I don't want it to catch on. Beth is just fine." Jim heard the front door open and close again as Julie headed back out into the city for her meeting. Beth was rooting around in the cupboard, pulling out spice bottles. "Dammit!" she said exasperated. "We're out of basil...I'm gonna run down to the market and get some. Without the basil, this dish just doesn't make it." "Hey, don't go to any trouble..." Jim said as he followed her out into the living area. "There's a market just around the corner. I'll only be a few minutes." She grabbed her jacket and headed for the door. Left alone, Jim wandered around. He went outside on the patio that was off the dining area and looked at the surrounding buildings in the fading dusk. He went into the kitchen and lifted the lid on what Beth was preparing; it looked like an Italian sausage dish. He roamed into the living room and studied the prints on the walls; they were all of women, paintings by a guy named Nagel. They reminded him of some of the artwork in the front of Playboy magazines, mildly erotic. He was walking near the door to Julie's room and the door was open, so he poked his head in. The bedroom was larger than the one he was staying in; obviously this was the master bedroom of the apartment. Same skylight, a king-size bed with black and white bedding, same sliding door for the closet and the bathroom door in the same place as in the other bedroom. Jim was going to move back out into the living room when he noticed something very interesting sitting on the far bedside table. He couldn't be absolutely sure it was what he thought it was; a magazine was covering part of it. He was going to walk over and check it out but he heard a key being inserted in the front door. Quickly he moved a few feet to the nearby entertainment center and made like he was looking at their music selections as Elizabeth came through the door. "Told you that wouldn't take too long," she said. "Come on and help me set the table." "Sure," Jim said as he followed her toward the kitchen. His thoughts, however, were on what he thought he had seen in Julie's bedroom. It had sure looked like there was a pair of handcuffs under that magazine. Chapter 2 Dinner was a success; Jim had three helpings. After that Beth and he sat and talked and watched some TV. Jim was amazed by the freaks on the local access station. Around 11:30, Julie came back home. Apparently, her meeting had gone well. She opened a bottle of wine which they all polished off without any problem. "Well, I'm going off to bed. Try not to wake me when you come in," she said to his sister. Jim wished he could climb into bed with luscious Julie -- she was like a wet dream. "Okay, Jules, I'll be in in a few minutes anyway." "See you tomorrow, Jim," Julie said as she sauntered through the door to her bedroom. "Night, Julie." Beth cleaned up the wine glasses and showed him how the remote worked before she left him for the evening. "I'm really glad you came, Jim. I'm glad I left home but not seeing you has been the hardest.. anyway, we're gonna have a blast while you're here. If you get up before me, there's some cereal over top of the fridge." "Okay, Beth, thanks for everything." He kissed her on the cheek and she went into the bedroom she'd be sharing with Julie. After watching all of the Conan O'Brien show, Jim turned the TV off. Back in Iowa, he'd have already been asleep way before Conan even came on but his body still thought it was only 11 o'clock. He rummaged through some magazines on the coffee table but they were all women magazines. His eyes lit on the stereo cabinet to the left of the TV. A pair of headphones lay on the shelf in front of a row of CDs. "Tunes," he muttered as he got up and opened the glass doors of the cabinet and looked at the CDs. As he stood there with hands on his knees, he heard faint sounds coming from the door to the bedroom that the girls were sharing. It was only a few feet away. Curious, he edged closer to the door. The sounds kept coming, fainter and then more loudly like they were talking or had a TV on. Julie had gone to bed over two hours ago but it sounded as if she or both of them were still up. While he had been watching TV, Jim had been turning over things that seemed strange in his mind. The unused looking bathroom in his room was the most titillating. The only explanation, beyond his sister scrubbing the inside of the medicine cabinet clean, was that the bathroom really was unused. That would mean that his sister used Julie's bathroom which would let one imagine that maybe his sister also stayed in Julie's room even before he'd come to visit. And maybe they did more than sleep in that bed! As quietly as he could, he pressed his ear against the door. The sounds got clearer but they didn't sound like words. In fact, he thought they sounded like moans! God dammit! Jim thought as he continued to listen. I bet Julie turned Beth into a fuckin' lesbo! The thought of Julie eating out his sister or Beth sucking on Julie's melon-like knockers made Jim begin to pop a boner. Still, he'd like to be sure. He didn't want to try the door; if it wasn't locked, he couldn't very well explain peeking if they happened to see him. That was a definite no go. Way too dangerous. Maybe the skylight, Jim thought. Yeah! Jim quietly walked through the living room, turning off the lamp by the couch as he went. He went up the couple of stairs to the dining area and opened the sliding door onto the patio. A quick look either way and he found what he was looking for. There was an access ladder that ran to the roof; the building's owner had enclosed the front surface of the ladder in a locked metal box to keep tenants off the roof. Still, it won't offer much of a barrier to Jim. He moved to it and gripped the outside of the ladder as high up as he could. He brought his feet up and pushed them against the side of the ladder box. He pushed his body up, reached higher on the ladder, brought his feet up again. Like a mountain climber, he shimmied the metal column until he could pull himself onto the roof. Sure enough there was the skylight over Julie's bedroom. Jim cautiously moved over to it, hoping that his movement would not be heard below. Finally reaching his goal, he looked down into the bedroom. The bedroom was not entirely dark. Candles were burning on both of the bedside tables and their flickering light let Jim see nearly all he wanted. And what he saw made him suck in his breath! Elizabeth was spread-eagled on the bed with tall Julie practically covering her from his sight. All he could see of his sister were her face, arms and legs. Julie was naked except for a thong; he could see a large band around her waist and one connecting with it that disappeared in her ass cheeks. Julie was kissing Elizabeth's neck and her right hand was between their bodies, down low near Elizabeth's crotch. Jesus...I knew it! I knew it! Jim thought as he broke out in a big grin. Jim's eyes drank in the back of Julie's superb body. Long, powerful legs... round, firm ass...a strong back that looked almost etched; she had the body of one of those bodybuilding magazine cover girls. Julie shifted her body to the side for a second and Jim caught a glimpse of the outside swell of one of her huge knockers as it mashed against his sister's torso. As he watched Julie's hand moved out to support herself and the stacked brunette began moving her hips, grinding herself against his sister's crotch. Well, actually she looked like she was fucking his sister! Then it hit him - Julie was probably wearing a strap-on dildo; that made more sense than a g-string. He'd seen some girls using one in a stag film for the older brother of his best friend before he got married. Seeing them go at it down below was way hotter than the film had been. Jim's dick grew into a raging hard-on as he watched the wild scene. He unsnapped his jeans and pulled the zipper down. He hurriedly tugged down his underwear and his dick sprang out in the humid city air. He began stroking it as he looked down through the skylight. Julie had raised herself up so her arms were straightened, her hands planted on either side of his sister's head. She rammed her hips down against Beth and his sister jerked her arms, her hands drew up sharply, like a puppets on a string. The peculiar motion made Jim squint and then he saw something he hadn't noticed before. Elizabeth's wrists were tied to the head posts of the bed! Not by handcuffs but by some thin straps. He couldn't see in the feeble light at the foot of the bed but he bet her ankles were secured as well. Manhattan Madness "Jeeeessssuusssss!" Jim exclaimed and he immediately let go of his dick. He wanted to last long enough to watch the girls finish. He rolled over on his back and looked up at the sky to let himself cool down a little. Beth and Julie were really into some kinky things - bondage, lesbianism.. damn, he'd fallen into a erotic wonderland. How did his sweet, innocent sister get into this swinging lifestyle? He bet Julie seduced her -- just like in the movies. Maybe Julie could tell his sister might go for it, talked to her at the gym, found out she was unhappy in her relationship with that guy, took her under her wing. Then takes her to bed and shows her how the other half swings. Unable to resist for very long, he rolled back over and looked down again at the hot scene below. Julie was still laying it to Beth, driving her voluptuous hips hard between Elizabeth's splayed legs as she kissed his sister's neck. Up on the roof, he couldn't hear his sister's moans, all he could hear was traffic, but her mouth was open and it looked like she was really enjoying the screwing her roommate was giving her. I'd like to tie Julie down like that, Jim fantasized. Ride her hot body and fuck her pussy. Wonder if she goes for men? Hell, it wouldn't fucking matter if I had her tied down! Yessir, give her a taste of her own medicine. The more he watched the lesbian lovers go at it, the more his attentions shifted to his sister. He knew he shouldn't be thinking about his sister but there she was, naked under her humping roommate. Elizabeth had great looking legs; that was all he could see at the time being but his mind could fill in the rest. Slender ass, flat tummy, pouty little titties...real nice. Down below, Julie had fallen on top of Elizabeth and was gripping his sister's ass as she tried to drive her head into the headboard. He wondered how it felt to grip Beth's ass like that, to lay on her soft body. He let himself go there. Jim's hand began to fly up and down his turgid cock, unable to hold back any longer. In his mind, it wasn't his hand, it was the hot lining of his big sister's pussy! He was fucking the shit out of Beth and she was begging for him to fill her with his jizm! Oh God! Come in me, Jim, come in me! I want it! Julie can't do it...give it do me! Shoot me full of cum! "Awwww, shit!" Jim groaned in real life as his nuts tightened and then shot his load. The first shot arced up and landed with wet splat in the middle of the skylight. Jim turned his body so the rest fell along the edge of the skylight. Finally the torrent ebbed and he shook the dregs off onto the roof before pulling his underwear and jeans back up his hips. He looked down through the skylight again to find that Julie was still now and Elizabeth had her eyes closed, looking very sated. Jim had planned to stay around and get a better look at Julie's outrageous body but he felt sorta bad about thinking about his sister like that. I got another five nights...I'll get a good look at Julie before I leave! Chapter 3 Jim woke up the next morning around 9 A.M. with a boner and the fragments of a dream. He couldn't remember any details but he was pretty sure Julie was in it. He got out of bed, showered and went out into the living room. No one else appeared to be up, so he went into the kitchen and poured a bowl of cereal as Beth had suggested. He went out on the balcony and ate it at the patio table, enjoying the sun. It felt like it was already 70 degrees out. As he sat there, he thought about his sister and her gorgeous lover. Apparently they had planned to put on a charade for the time he was in town; Jim bet that was his sister's idea. Julie didn't impress him as someone that would give a damn if anyone knew what was going on. "Penny for your thoughts." Jim looked around and Julie was standing in the open sliding patio door. She was wearing a short silk robe, cinched tight around her waist but the top was showing plenty of her cleavage. Her hair was pinned up and damned if she wasn't wearing lipstick already. Even fresh out of bed, she looked hot. Think of something clever to say, he thought. He had no idea if Julie even went for guys but he instinctively wanted to open a bridge, just in case. No balls, no glory. "Uh..I was just enjoying the view," he said, letting his eyes linger on her chest before looking up at her face. Julie's eyes dropped quickly to her open robe and then she looked back at him. Rather than pull it shut, a slow smile played across her lips. Then it was her turn to run her eyes over him; he'd come out in a pair of shorts but no shirt. If Jim hadn't been looking for it, he would have missed it. "Well, you're only going to be here a short time," Julie said, "You should see all you can while you're in town." Again the smile, then she turned and headed into the kitchen. I'll be damned! I think she was flirting back. Now he had a quandary...should he press the issue or let it lie? Julie was his sister's lover and Beth had been very kind to invite him and pay for his ticket. Supposing he was able to get into Julie's pants and then Elizabeth found out? It might cause a fall-out and his sister would have to move out of this great apartment. He decided he couldn't even risk that. Keep it in your pants. Besides, you might be reading too much into it. Elizabeth came out about fifteen minutes later, in a similar robe, her hair up in a towel. She kissed him good morning and asked if he wanted anything else for breakfast. He declined; she had some cereal as well as they sat out on the patio. Julie had gone in to take her shower. "I've got a busy day planned for us," Elizabeth said, finishing her cereal, "We'll get all of the touristy stuff done today...Statue of Liberty, Wall Street, UN building...then if you're up to it, we can go out tonight. I don't have to work." "Hey, that sounds great...I just need to put on some clothes. When do you want to leave?" "In about 30 minutes...oh...and wear shorts today. It's supposed to be up in the high 80's." Elizabeth loosened the towel around her head and rubbed her head with it a moment. As Jim was getting up, she brought the towel away and ran her hand back through her damp hair as she crossed her legs, causing her robe to ride up on her thighs. He went to his room, hating himself for once again thinking about his sister in less than a sisterly fashion. * * * * * * * They arrived back at the apartment around 6 o'clock after a log day of sightseeing with plans to order out some Chinese food. Jim had never eaten Chinese food and Beth was looking forward to expanding his horizons in that area. The light on the answering machine was blinking and Beth hit it as she picked up the phone to call Wu Fong's. The first message was for Julie and Beth wrote down a number. The second message was: "Pepper, it's Vince. I know you got tonight off but I need ya to work. Sorry. Call me when you get in." "Shit!" Beth said and sagged her shoulders. "You got to work?" Jim said from the couch he'd fallen on. "It sounds like it...I'll try to get out of it if I can." Elizabeth dialed the phone. "I really don't need this...I asked for this night off a long time ago." "Did that guy call you 'Pepper'?" "Yeah...Vince, he's the owner, he likes to use nicknames...wait, hello Vince. Yeah, it's me. I just got in...listen, my brother's in town...I know but...well, if I come in, you've got to sweeten it for me..." Jim made like he was uninterested, flipping through the magazines on the coffee table again. "That's what I wanted to hear, Vince. I'll be there in an hour. Bye." Beth hung up the phone. "Jim, I'm sorry but I'm gonna have to go in. One of the other hostesses can't make it." "No sweat. We can go out another night. Besides, I'm beat anyway." "Yeah, and I'm gonna be on my feet all night," Beth whined. "But I can still order you some food, if you want?" "No, let's wait. I know you wanted to watch me eat it, am I right? You want to watch your dumb brother try those chopsticks!" Beth laughed. "Listen, I'll just eat whatever leftovers you got in the fridge. Don't worry about me. Go ahead and get ready for work." Elizabeth came out ten minutes later in a nice blouse and slacks. She wrote down the address of the apartment in case he wanted to go out. She said she'd tell the doorman he was staying with them and she gave him a spare key. She told him there was a movie theater a few streets over if he got bored. "All right, I'm out of here. See ya later." She left him with a smile. Jim made a sandwich and had a beer and watched the local news. The first couple stories were about crime of course. Then there was a story about Times Square. That was one landmark that he and his sister had not hit, so he watched it with some interest. Apparently the Times Square area was not a great family draw; the surrounding area looked like it was filled with X-rated movie houses and strip clubs. Just the kind of place Jim was looking for! He'd been horny all day watching all the girls go by and thinking about his sister and Julie. He didn't know how far it was by cab but he had money. He'd just go to Times Square and take in some sights. He went in, looked at himself in the mirror and decided he could get away without a shower. He soaped up his armpits and then used some deodorant. He used some hairspray on his hair after getting it just right. Splashed on some Drakkar aftershave but did not shave; the five-o'clock shadow made him look older. Moving back into the bedroom, he picked out his clothes. He didn't want to look too good; since the area was seedy, he decided to dress down. He settled on a pair of faded stonewashed jeans, a old grey dress shirt and his black Nike shoes. He checked his wallet for the fake ID he'd brought from Nebraska for just such a situation. It said he was 21 and the picture was pretty close. Going out into the living room, he pocketed the key Beth had given him, took his plate and beer can out to the kitchen. "Let's fire up!" he said, getting psyched for his big adventure. He grabbed another beer and downed it in a couple of long chugs. "All right, now we're going!" Feeling pretty excited, he headed for the front door. And as he did so, it opened and in walked Julie. Last night's dress had been good but the one Julie had on now was even better. Tight like last night's, electric blue and this one had a plunging neckline which showed about five inches of billowing cleavage. "There's my favorite farmboy!' Julie said as she closed the door and leaned against it. She looked like she had a wild hair up her butt. Jim just smiled at her, not sure if she was complimenting him or if she was making fun of him. She could insult me all night if she'll just stand there with her shoulders stooped forward, showing me the tops of those titties, his evil side thought. "Looks like you're ready to take Manhattan. Is Liz getting ready?" "She got called into work." "Called into work? Don't tell me you were going out exploring on your own?" Julie moved from the door and walked past Jim, almost brushing her shoulder with. Jim turned to keep her in his sight as she went to sit on the couch. Her strong legs crossed, giving him a good view of her thighs. "Yeah, I've got someplace in mind," Jim replied. He wanted to see if he could get a reaction out of Julie. "I'm headed down to Times Square." He'd all but told her he was going out to see some flesh and her smile never wavered. In fact, her smile got sorta wicked. "Time Square's all quantity and not much quality," Julie said as she crossed her legs. "I know a real good club if you want to see some top-class pussy." Julie's frank language stunned Jim. He was sure, thinking about it later, that his jaw must have dropped open like in the cartoons. "Oh, I'm sorry. Did I offend you?" Julie said but he could tell see wasn't really concerned if he was offended. "I thought you were looking for a hot time tonight." Jim couldn't pass this up. Either Julie wants me or she's just toying with me...either way, the thought of her and me walking into a strip club together sounds real good. The guys in there will go nuts and wonder how the hell I was so lucky. "Guilty as charged," Jim said as he dove back in. "In fact, the hotter, the better." Julie thought about that for a second, then said, "You might burn up." "Lead the way," Jim countered, forgetting all about his resolve of that morning. If Julie wanted to take him to see some pussy, he sure as hell wasn't going to worry about any ramifications. It could be the wildest night of his life. Chapter 4 They headed downstairs and the doorman hailed them a cab. When they were inside it, Julie leaned forward and gave the driver an address and the cab headed out. Julie leaned back and looked at him with that knowing smirk that passed for a smile. "Tell me, Jim, do you have a girlfriend back home?" she said. "Yeah...her name's Tina." Jim volunteered, although he was making it up. He'd used to date Tina but they'd broken up over a month ago. "Did you give her a good fucking before you got on the plane?" Again that smirk. Jim wasn't surprised now by her frank expressions; he found it exciting. If Julie was so casual about the subject, how could she object when he came on to her? And he was going to come on to her! "Sure did," Jim bragged. "She can never get enough." "Good for her...and you. Is she faithful to you when you're away?" "Yeah, I suppose so." Jim lied further. "And how about you? Were you just going out tonight to look at some pussy or were you going to get some?" Julie continued to try and push his buttons. Jim thought, She's making it so fuckin easy...too easy. She wants me to come on to her. She's had Beth, now she wants to try me! Go for it! "I had hoped to get lucky while I was here," Jim said as he shifted toward her and placed his hand on her bare knee. She didn't even look at it, just kept staring at his face. Jim continued after a second, "Maybe you'd like to take me under your wing while I'm here. We could have ourselves some fun." "Yeah, we could have some fun," Julie said seductively as she leaned toward him, "but you're not going to get any pussy off me." Jim felt all the air rush out of his balloon. What kind of a game was Julie playing with him? She'd gotten him all worked up and then pulled the carpet out from under him. Struggling to understand, Jim blurted, "What? You only go for girls?" That got her. Julie's smirk disappeared for a few seconds. Jim knew she must have put two and two together. Way to go, dumb-ass! Jim mentally berated himself. "You naughty boy. Have you been spying on Lizzie and me?" Julie's smile came back, bigger than ever, and Jim knew he was in the clear. "No, I just had a hunch...you just confirmed it for me. Her bathroom was too empty; I could tell she wasn't using it.. then last night, I could hear my sister all the way out in the living room." "Mmmmm, yes, she can get rather vocal," Julie said with a little pride in her voice. "So, now you know. She wanted to keep it a secret. I thought she was being foolish; she's a big girl and she can sleep with whoever she wants but she didn't think her little brother should know that she swings both ways...like me." Julie's right hand covered his hand on her knee and stroked it. "But I thought..." Jim began. "You weren't listening," Julie cut in. "I said you wouldn't get any pussy off me tonight and I said we'd have fun...there's all kinds of ways to have fun." Julie's voice was almost purring. "Fuck, Julie, let's go back to the apartment!" Jim suggested quickly. His dick was getting rock hard in his pants as he imagined Julie sucking him off...that had to be what she was driving at. Julie sucking his dick while he used his hands on her curvy bod...squeezing her tits and, if she'd let him, fingering her pussy... Julie just laughed. "All good things to those that wait. Besides, I just had an idea...Driver, we want to change our destination. Head uptown, please." Julie shifted over against Jim and moved his hand up onto one of her heavy tits. Jim pressed his palm against the dress, amazed at the firmness of her breast. Then Julie's mouth was on his, her lips smashing against his in a hot lip-lock that made Jim squeeze her silicone titty stronger. Julie wasted no time in pushing her tongue into his mouth; she seemed to enjoy taking the lead. In the front seat, the cabbie adjusted his mirror to watch. * * * * * * * About fifteen minutes later, the cab pulled up to the curb and Jim and Julie got out. The neighborhood did not look like a commercial district; there was no neon lights or bright signs proclaiming, "Girls! Girls! Girls!" Julie opened her purse but Jim moved in front of her and paid the cabbie. "Thanks, young fella," the old guy said as he tucked the bills into a box on the front seat beside him, "I'd wish you a good night but I can tell you're gonna have a good one." Jim winked at him and the cab pulled away. Julie held out her hand, he grabbed it and she led him toward the old building in front of which they stood. They went around a wrought iron railing and down a staircase that began at street level. At the bottom was a door which Julie knocked on. Like a scene from a Prohibition film, someone drew back an eye-level slat. "Hey, Gus," Julie said to the pair of eyes and the slat swung shut. The door opened and Julie led him in. He found himself being guided down a dim hallway as the doorman shut the door behind them. "What kind of place is this?" Jim asked. "It's a strip club, of course. Very hush-hush...I doubt if most of the people in the neighborhood even know it's here." Julie led him down another flight of stairs and they turned into a large dim lit room. There were several half-moon shaped booths on the far wall, jammed with a collection of well-dressed men, some in suit and ties, most middle aged. The middle of the room was filled with small tables, most of which were occupied as well. The other side of the room was a large bar with a topless blonde bartender that was busy pouring some well drinks for another topless girl that stood in front of the bar; around her waist was a small apron. "Nice employees!' Jim said as Julie led him to a small empty table in the middle of the room. Jim noticed most of the men openly staring at Julie even though several scantily clad dancers hovered around their tables. Eat your hearts out, fellas! "The performers work up here and downstairs." Julie said, then seeing his questioning look, continued, "they have a dance room downstairs." Julie sat down as Jim held a chair out for her and then he pulled his seat over to hers. Julie looped an arm around his shoulders and rubbed his chest with the other hand. Jim was going to kiss her again to make all the other guys more jealous but a waitress came up to their table. She was a cute redhead with hard-looking breasts. "Hey, Julie...who's your cute friend?" She gave Jim a long look. "This here is my new dreamboat," Julie said, not offering his name, as she ran her hand down his stomach. Jim shifted as it came perilously close to the hard-on beginning again in his pants. "Let us have a couple of Long Islands." "All right," the waitress said, "Don't let that stud get away before I get back." She turned and walked to the bar and Jim ogled her lovely ass as it ground away. "You like her?" Julie whispered in his ear. "What's not to like?" Jim pulled her close and kissed her again as he ran his right hand down her back and rubbed the top of her ass. "Would you like to sleep with her?" Jim asked as he squeezed her ass. Manhattan Madness "Sheryl?...sure, she's strictly hetero...but I'm working on her." Jim couldn't tell if Julie was being serious or not. He hoped at least that she was being faithful to his sister...but maybe that was too much to ask for a knockdead bi-sexual in New York. "Ah, there he is," Julie said as she stood up. Jim followed her eyes and saw that a man had appeared behind the bar and was talking to the blonde bartendress. "Excuse me for a minute, I've got to talk to this guy." Julie walked over to the bar. Jim saw a lot of eyes following the tall brunette in her clinging dress. Sheryl passed her, heading back to their table with their drinks. Jim dug out his billfold. "Here ya go, Sugar." Sheryl was all charm as she leaned close to him to put Julie's drink in front of her chair. Jim fished a twenty out of his billfold and held it out to the waitress as she straightened up. "How much are the drinks?" he asked her, wondering how much of a bite the drinks were going to take out of the twenty. "Sugar, the drinks are always free here," the redhead explained as took the bill from his hand. With a smile, she set her tray down on the table and tucked the bill in the string of her apron. "But twenty will get you this." With that, she swung her leg over his and lowered herself on his lap as her hands went around his neck. Jim found his face close to Sheryl's magnificent tits as she began to grind herself against him. "Wow!" Jim gasp as Sheryl's crotch rubbed on his manhood. "Big boy, if Julie weren't here, I'd take you downstairs and we'd have ourselves a good ole time." Sheryl said it like she meant it but Jim knew that most strippers were interested in one thing - money. She might take him downstairs but it wouldn't be for a twenty. "Aaaahh, Sheryl, that feels great..." he said looking over to the bar as his hands lightly played up the outside of Sheryl's flexing thighs. He saw Julie talking to the guy behind the bar. The man said something to Julie and she looked at her watch..."mmmm...oh, man!" "Oh yeah, stud, I can feel something nice and hard down here," Sheryl said as she gave her hips a hard thrust. Jim looked up at her face; it simmered with $20 of desire. Sheryl brought her lips close to his, teasing him, promising untold delights. Then she went to her sales pitch. "Baby, I want to get you off...$100...we'll go downstairs, whattaya say?" "Believe me, I'd like to, Sheryl." Jim said "But I'm saving myself for my date, if you know what I mean." "I bet you could satisfy us both but..." Sheryl predicted as she dismounted from his lap "...remember the offer." Julie returned then, smirking knowingly as she stood by Sheryl. "Looks like Sheryl was being very nice to you," she said as she used her right hand to slowly pull Sheryl's hair back over her shoulder. Sheryl looked sideways at Julie as her hand continued down her back, slowly, then moved onto the waitress' bottom. With a chuckle, Sheryl spun away. "Aren't you ever going to give it up?" Sheryl said cutely as she picked up her tray. "Sheryl, one of these days I'll catch you in a weak moment, " Julie predicted as she sat back down, "and then I'll ruin you for men forever." Sheryl blew her a kiss and headed off toward another table. "You weren't kidding about Sheryl; you'd like to get her into bed, wouldn't you?" Jim said. "Mmmmm, yeah!...and then after I was through with her...and she was really juicy...I'd let you fuck her while I watched!" Julie's eyes flashed at him and he knew she wasn't kidding. She looked again at her watch. "Grab your drink. It's time to head downstairs." Downstairs turned out to be another large dim lit room that looked like any other strip club. More booths and tables filled with wealthy looking clientele, plenty of topless waitresses and a small stage with runways and a couple of brass poles. A small Asian women was dancing on the stage in a spotlight when they came down. Julie asked the floor seater for a booth in the back of the room; Jim would have liked to sit closer to the stage but he soon found out why Julie wanted a booth. After they sat down, Julie flipped a switch on the wall behind them and the light over their booth went out, leaving them with some privacy. "You having a good time yet?" she asked facetiously. "Fuck, yes...Here feel for yourself," he said as he moved her hand to the bulge in his pants. He liked the throaty chuckle of surprise she gave as her palm stroked him through his jeans. "Whoa, it feels like Lizzie's little brother is hung." Julie teased. "We're only going to stay for about another fifteen minutes...I want to get you home. You and I are going to have a wild time before your sister gets back." "Why wait? Let's go now." Jim again suggested. He been teased enough tonight. He wanted to get Julie back to the apartment, rip her dress off and do whatever she'd let him do. "Wait just a few more minutes...there's a really hot dancer coming out... after she's through, we'll split." Julie took her hand away from his crotch and drank her drink as she watched the Asian girl simulate making love to one of the poles on the stage. Jim did the same, thinking about what a wild trip it was turning into. His sister could have had a dour, frumpy roommate but instead she was living with a bi-sexual bombshell that was going to do the wild thing with him, maybe for the rest of his stay. Apparently Julie liked cock...and he knew he had been doled out a little more dick than most guys. He came in at just over 8 inches - a hefty, full 8 inches. He was thinking about Julie's full lips wrapping around his whanger as the Asian girl slipped behind the curtains and a fresh song started up. A deep baritone voice then announced over the club sound system, "And now for your enjoyment, the delectable Pepper!" Jim jerked his head back to the stage as his sister, dressed in a skimpy orange thong bikini, slid from behind the curtain and did a slow twirl around one of the poles! Chapter 5 "Beth?!" he softly said in surprise. He felt Julie slide closer to him. "I think you'll like this, Jim. She really knows how to work a crowd." Jim pulled his eyes from his sister as she waved her gorgeous butt in the face of a front table occupant. Julie's face was very close to his and her eyes were searching his face. "Why did you bring me here?' he asked and licked his lips. Julie smiled. "You knew about us. Why not?...She can't see us back here...look at her. She's beautiful, isn't she?" Jim looked again at his sister. She was pulling down the straps of her bikini top, shrugging her shoulders seductively as she leaned against a pole. He'd always thought his sister was cute but up there on the stage she was down right hot. Thoughts of the previous night when he'd imagined himself fucking Beth stirred in his mind again. He, like every other male in the room, was imagining what it would be like to hold that sexy dancer, to squeeze her soft slender ass as you worked your dick into her... "Lizzie's one of the favorites here," Julie said close to his ear, bringing him out of his fantasy, "she can make $1000-$2000 a night easy." Jim remembered Sheryl's pitch....Jesus, I wonder if Beth makes her money that way?! Jim couldn't believe his sister would sell herself like that...but he'd never have thought she'd even strip. On the stage, Elizabeth pulled off her bikini top, kicked it into the crowd and cupped her adorable tits proudly. His sister had long fucking nipples; maybe an inch and a half long. And she knew how to use them. As he watched, she began twirling them with her fingers, her face swimming with pretended ardor as she leaned back against the pole. Several tables down front broke into cheers, the business men loving every minute of it. "Mmmmmm, I love her nips." Julie said hotly as her hand slid back over the lump in his pants. "Oooooo, I'd swear you're getting harder. Poor baby, does your sister excite you, too?" "No!" Jim protested quickly. "She's my sister, for Christssake!" "So?...Your sister is a prime piece of ass. Shit, there's thousands upon thousands upon thousands of boys fucking their butt-ugly sisters in this country alone and you're going to tell me you wouldn't like to get it on with Liz?!" She made it sound almost conceivable; Jim knew it wasn't. He'd grown up with Elizabeth. They'd shared too much as brother and sister to take the kind of leap that Julie was...what?...advocating? "You may be right," Jim gave her, "but I'm not like that." He wished he could be more persuasive but Julie got off the subject. "Watch this!" she said and Jim focused again on Elizabeth as she untied seductively the knots on her thong bottom. To continued catcalls, his sister began using the thong like dental floss, pulling the flimsy material back and forth between her legs. Jim, even from the back of the room, could see some of his sister's dark pubic patch on either slide of the sliding material. Look at her! God, she's so... so slutty! Jim marveled to himself. It looks like she's really enjoying herself...stripping in front of a room full of total strangers...OK, let me see it, Sis! Let us all see it. Beth did let them all see. She released the thong in the back and whipped it up to her face as she spread her legs wide. She lewdly sniffed the bottoms before casting them off to an appreciative table. Then she began moving around the stage; falling to her knees with her legs open as men stood up to get a closer look or crawling on her hands and knees and offering a backdoor view of her sex. Jim felt weirdest viewing his sister's most intimate area. He, like everyone else, got a good view of his sister's neatly-trimmed dark muff. And like everyone else he was wondering what it would be like to tongue it or fuck it, God help him. Beside him, unknown to him, Julie watched his face, not Elizabeth. * * * * * * * Later, Jim struggled to fit the key in the door of the apartment as Julie pressed her tits into his back and slid her hands down the front of his jeans. "Having trouble putting it in?" she teased him as he finally found the mark and opened the door. "You won't be saying that in a few minutes," he countered as he ushered her in and closed the door. He hoped maybe it would come true. He'd tried to feel Julie up in the cab back to the apartment but she'd always moved his hands to her tits...she really liked to have her tits squeezed. "Have a seat, Romeo," Julie said as she sauntered into the kitchen. Jim fell onto the couch and kicked off his sneakers. Julie soon returned with a frosty looking bottle and some small glasses. She sat on the couch next to him, turning her body and laying her long right leg across his thighs as she handed him a glass. "Ever had a shooter?" she asked. "Iced vodka?" "No, but I'll try anything once," Jim promised as she poured an inch of the clear liquid into his glass. His left hand dropped onto her leg and began stroking it as she poured herself a similar portion. Julie placed the bottle on the coffee table and they clinked their glasses together. "No sipping these," Julie said as she tilted her head back and threw the drink down her throat. Jim did the same, enjoying the cold nature of the shot. "Good job! I'll make a man out of you yet," Julie teased. She was always digging at him. Jim chose just to smile as he ran his hand slowly up her inner thigh, up past the bottom of her dress. "Hey! What did I tell you?!" Julie said as she swung her leg off him and stood up. "I told you no touching my pussy, didn't I?" She sounded truly angry. Great, way to go, hormone boy! Way to fuck things up! Jim berated himself silently. "Look, Julie, I'm sorry... I just wanted to make you feel good. Most girls like it..." Julie seemed to calm down. "All right. Look, it's not you...I made this vow that no man would ever again touch me there...all you got to do is promise to keep your hands off this particular area of my body and you and I will get along just fine." "Deal. Now come on and sit back down." Julie gave him that evil smile and sat back down, again throwing her leg over his. "Now where were we?" she said as she placed her hand on his crotch and began rubbing. "I think..." Jim said as he hooked a finger in the top of her dress and pulled it down, exposing more of her olive-hewed breasts, "...we were about to get naked and do what boys and girls will do!" "Mmmmm, that sounds good... but being naked is so ordinary.. You wait here, I'm going to slip into something that I think you'll like." Julie gave him a big wet kiss and headed for her bedroom. At the door, she turned and said, "When I call you, come on in. And I don't want those clothes on you." "Oh, yes, maam." Jim said to his thirty-something seductress and she slid through the door and closed it behind her. Jim leaped up off the couch, made a boxing uppercut motion to express his delirious state of excitement and headed into his bedroom. He pulled off his shirt and went into the bathroom to brush his hair back into place as he unbuttoned and shucked his jeans off. "Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy...oh you lucky motherfucker." He pulled off his underwear and began massaging his dick, wanting it to look as big as it could without being erect. He didn't want to appear too excited. Grabbing a washcloth, he swabbed off his member with some hot water and did his armpits just to be safe and then toweled both areas dry. Quick squirt of deodorant and in his bedroom again. Dropping to the floor, he did 10 pushups, enjoying the way his muscles tightened up. Back out into the living room, her bedroom door still closed, locking the front door even though his sister wasn't supposed to get off until midnight and it's only 10:45. Have another drink, hand keeping some blood in the old dick, feeling stupid standing naked in the living room especially since someone in a higher building might be able to see through the glass doors in the dining area. Think about Julie, think about that Penthouse body and that Hustler outlook on life...it doesn't get any better than this! "JIMMMMM! I'M READDDYYY!" Play it cool, man...she's just another girl...she wants it worse than you do..." Jim psyched himself as he walked over to the door. Putting on his sexiest smile, he turned the knob and leaned in the bedroom. And about died. Julie was standing by her bed, hands on her hips, and she was wearing a black leather outfit. Black stiletto heels that made her look seven feet tall, shiny pants that started just above her ankles and disappeared under a short black skirt. Her midriff was bare, showcasing a tight stomach. The leather top was a series of leather straps which crisscrossed her huge silicone tits in a number of diamond shapes. The straps connected to a collar around her neck and a wide band that wrapped around her torso just below her orbulent breasts. The top called attention to how big her tits were; squeezing them together and pushing them out. Julie's small pink nipples and areola were exposed; they looked way too small for the mountains of titflesh that she sported. "Fuck! That is one hot outfit!" Jim finally said as he slipped into the room and closed the door. Half-joking, he continued, "Should I call you Master or something?" He'd seen the way Julie had been in control with his sister and the handcuffs were probably around somewhere. "That would be Mistress.. if that was what I wanted tonight," Julie said and let her eyes explore his body. "You've got a really nice body, Jim...your dick is getting nice and full...were you playing with it out there?" She gave a knowing chuckle as she approached him. "I like a man that wants to get right down to business." Jim felt almost giddy as she slipped her arms around his neck and he grabbed her bare waist. He was about to make love with his first real adult women, a Vargas-looking temptress that also liked to have wild sex with his stripper sister. Julie tilted her head and brought her lips down on his in a hungry kiss which he returned as he began exploring her back with his hands. His fingers played over the cool leather straps of her top and her hot skin. Julie's skin felt abnormally warm, like she had a fever. She was a hot women in more ways than one. Jim broke their kiss and immediately began kissing her neck. Her honeycomb-laced tits pressed into his chest like two cantaloupes in leather slings. "Mmmmm, oh, yeahhhhhh!" Julie chortled as he ran his tongue back toward her ear. As Jim began sucking on her earlobe, he felt one of her hands sneak down between their bodies. Her hand wrapped around his half-hard member and it was Jim's turn to grunt in pleasure. "Ooooooh, you dirty boy!.. Mmmmmm, you're big, baby.. God, what a dick!" Julie huskily whispered as Jim drew back and looked down to see her hand as she slowly jacked his nearly full-blown erection. "Go easy, Julie.. I've never felt this excited.. " Jim tried to convey the fact that he was likely to launch his load at any minute. Julie just chuckled and gave his cock a hard slow milking. "Christ, I'm not kidding!" Jim said as he embarrassedly moved his hand to cover hers. "I'm going to have to cool you down, aren't I?" Julie chided him as she released his dick, grabbed his hand and led him to her bed...to her and his sister's bed. She pushed him down so he sat on the side of the bed. "I bet you won't have any problems getting it back up if I do, will you?" "Fuck, no! I'll keep it hard all night for you," Jim promised as he ran his hands up the back of her leather-wrapped legs. But it wasn't leather really; it was like a slick shiny rubber. "Would you suck it?" Jim suggested suggestively, knowing it was all right to do so; Julie certainly wasn't going to take offense to a lewd proposal. She was a walking lewd proposal. "Hmmm, I bet you'd like that! I'll give you a choice...I'll suck you off or..." Julie's hands cupped her amazing bust, "... you can fuck my tits. You ever fucked a pair of tits, farmboy?" Jim was agog. He'd been hoping all night to feel Julie suck him but now she was making him an offer he'd never have even considered. The high school girls he'd slept with back home had not had much in the breast department; they were still developing. But now he was eyeing the tight cleavage between Julie's cinched chest mounds. "No," he admitted, "but I'd love to try it." "Good, that's why I picked this particular top," Julie said as she slipped from his grasp and opened the drawer to the nearby nightstand. She took out a small bottle of baby oil. "I bought it a little too small for a reason. Can you guess why?" She turned to him with a evil smile on her face. "It crams your tits together." "Right you are!" She ran her index finger down into the top of her cleavage salaciously. "It gives me a nice...tight.. soft.. fuckable.. tunnel." Again that wicked smile. "Some men have told me it feels better than pussy." "I can't believe that. Pussy feels awful goddamn good!" Jim said brazenly. His dick was twitching in his lap like a cobra as he thought about the other men that had come before him. "Well, I'm anxious to hear your opinion," Julie said. "Stack those pillows up for me, near the other side there." Jim hurriedly scrambled on his knees on the bed and collected three of the pillows at the head of the mattress. He stacked them together perpendicular to the headboard near the other side of the bed from where Julie stood. Julie crawled on the bed and lay with the pillows under the top of her back, elevating her torso for Jim's use. As he watched, she poured some baby oil in the top of her cleavage. Seconds later, he watched it trickle out of the bottom of her bound boobs, pool over the bottom strap of her top and run down toward her stomach. Manhattan Eventually our last energy reserves were drained. We lay together on the big divan, and the intensity of before had been replaced by a slow, sloppy caressing. I was sucking on her nipple and she was gently stroking my balls. We were both soaked from sweat and other ungodly things, and the divan itself was drowned in champagne after we got the bright idea to plunder the bar a few climaxes ago. Moët Chandon and sex juice is actually quite a tasty mix. The confusion for the owner of this den when he'd find it literally fucked up upon coming home was a thought far removed from my mind. We'd be long gone by then, and whomever it was that owned it could afford to buy himself a clue. I was almost, almost drifting off into sleep, but knowing that no dreams could ever match the bliss I was in right then kept me on the right side of that border. "You have to kill him," she suddenly said. Her voice was soft, warm and gentle. "What do you…" "Ssh. Just listen, and don't argue. Trust me on this. I feel you now, all facets of you, and you scare me. That part of you, this…Mr Hyde. He's feeding off you. A parasite in your head. Killing the real you. I know you think he's helping you cope with life, but the truth is that you don't need him, all he does is stopping your true self from experiencing life to the fullest. So listen. Please, listen. You have to leave me. I mean, leave this island. Mr Hyde wins here. And every time you're here, he takes a bite out of you. Don't you…don't you feel that?" "Yes," I whispered. "I know. I don't even like this shit anymore. This hollow, superficial, dumbass craze. But I don't know what to do. I can't stop." "Yes you can. I will help you. Stay away, Christopher. Wait him out, and you'll starve him to death. Stay away, stay away…" With those words echoing like a mantra in my head, I finally let go of my consciousness and drifted off into a deep sleep. I woke up in my own bed in New Jersey, fully dressed and with a motherlode of a hangover. Weird shapes of a yesterday that must had been wild beyond belief danced around in my memory. But most of it was a blur. There had been a bar, a shabby hotel and some fancy private love shack. And sex. Lots of sex. It was all shapeless, but the sounds, skin slapping against skin, creaking beds and tell-tale moaning, were more vivid recollections. The sharp pang of regret came like on cue. I must have shacked up with one, if not two women that night, but obviously I'd been so stoned that I couldn't remember anything. Which meant I'd probably been too stoned to think of such things as protection. Who knows what shit I might have caught or what trouble I might have gotten myself into. That was it, no more nightly adventures for me. I couldn't go on like that much longer anyway. It wore me out the same way any other addiction would. I made my decision there and then. Manhattan meant trouble, and was off limit for an undisclosed period of time. I'd go cold turkey on the bitch. Until I had grown the fuck up enough to handle it. That was over a year ago, and until this summer, I did not remember anything else of that amazing, unreal night than that pointless blur. But something happened that brought it all back again. I went back. Not for the cheap thrills of black clubbing and white spirits, or for the prospect of a fast erotic fix with some drugged up party bimbo. I had no such desires to mess up my life anymore. No, this was just me having a day off from work after a particularly successful deal closure. The weather was stellar, everyone I knew was busy at their own jobs, and it just felt…right. Why not head over to the Big Apple, find some good place for lunch, and take an afternoon stroll through Central Park? I realised that I had lived all those years just a short ride away from it without ever actually doing that. So why the hell not? Short of reasons not to, I called for a cab and was soon heading straight towards that familiar skyline. As I rolled off the bridge and in between the tall buildings, I had the briefest notion of tasting peppermint on my tongue, but it faded away before I had the chance to reflect on it. There I finally stood, at the edge of a place I'd only seen in movies, or passing by at night in a taxi. The ridiculously long stretch of Central Park, a green haven lined by steel, glass and concrete was a sight that took a while to take in. "Beautiful, isn't it?" The voice was smooth and warm and hauntingly familiar. I turned around and saw a stunning young woman in a pale purple summer dress. I was sure I had seen her somewhere before, but I couldn't quite place where or when. Then I noticed her hair. It flowed in the most remarkable way. Neural pathways in my memory bank that had been unused for months finally started trickling information. Was this the girl from that last wild night ten moths ago? The one I slept with in some rich guy's penthouse? Yes, it was definitely her. Oh, damn. She didn't look like I remembered girls from back then looked though. Her eyes were full of warmth and intelligence. Those high-class junkies' eyes usually looked like they belonged on dead fish. Then she smiled, reached out and took my hand. Like a dam bursting, the whole magic night rushed back into my consciousness. I remembered every little detail. All the fantastic things she showed me, all the fantastic things we did, every sound, every sensation, every taste and touch. It was her, the soul of the city in a flesh and bone incarnation. She who saved me from myself. "Don't freak out," she laughed. "This is a public street, it might scare people." "I'm not freaking out," I replied. "That was just a bit too much information at the same time for my tiny man-brain." "Oh, I'm sorry. "It's ok. I'm fine now." I took a second to just look her over, top to bottom and back. God, she was beautiful. "Hello again," she said as our eyes met. "I see that you finally won." "I guess I did," I said. "No more Mr Hyde." "Good. I'm happy for you. So, what now? Are you staying?" "Just for the afternoon." "Come on then," she said and took hold of my arm. "Let me show you the real me. Manhattan is at its best in the summer sun, if I can be the judge." "Well, if anyone knows, you should." We crossed the street and strolled in between the trees. The sun was already high in the sky and the park was slowly getting populated with the normal daytime clientele. Here were everything from sun worshippers in bikinis to buttoned up old ladies and suit and tie slaves on a well deserved lunch break. We walked and chatted in equally aimless ways like only a pair of old friends or new lovers can. For some reason, an encore of the events in the penthouse was pretty far from my mind. I'm not saying that that didn't happen. She was still very much into exploring that part of human life, and I'd be a complete moron if I didn't offer my cooperation, now wouldn't I? Let's just say that we kept ourselves busy for a few weeks that summer. I still stop by from time to time for a chat, but she has taken new lovers since then. It was never just about satisfying an urge for her, but about exploring the outer limits of it. Eventually to the extent that my own tastes and where I was willing to go were not enough. So in that aspect, I let her go, to seek out new prospects on her journey of debauchery. Lucky bastards. Not that I'd want to keep on doing the horizontal tango with her. That was never my major fascination with her, more like an interesting bonus. Since I met this new girl, I have no eyes for her in that aspect anyway. It was a morning in September. The summer heat had lingered on for longer than usual, and the air was fresh from a light breeze from the east. I was in my office, trying to sort out some delayed paperwork, when there was a careful tapping on the window of my open door. I looked up and saw a woman in wavy auburn hair and a dark green blouse making big eyes at me. I know I should know her name, but the answer evaded me. "Hello, Chris," she said, and the quarter finally dropped. My own reply came out a babbling mess. "Wow. Um... Hi! I haven't seen you in ages. What are you doing here? Did you dye your hair? How did you find me? Hot outside today, huh? It looks great. Um, your hair, I mean. N-not that there's anything wrong with the rest. But…eh…I meant the hair." "Really? Do you like it?" she said and blushed at that clumsy little compliment like a little schoolgirl. My god. She was even prettier now than I remembered her. She wasn't there because she wanted our services, but because she happened to see our ad in the paper and recognised my name from back home, up in Minnesota. I had been in her class all the way up to High School graduation. Apparently I had made some kind of impression on her, an impression I could only have dreamed of. From that day, we could barely let each other out of sight. I skipped work and took her for a long lunch in the city. After a delightful meal of more talking and laughing than actual eating, we took a walk down to the gigantic green oasis of so many stories. Our stroll and appearance perfectly mimicked the walk I had taken with another girl, or ghost, or angel, or…well…you know, a couple of weeks earlier. The same gallery of people as always met us in all directions. Kids with frisbees, ladies with poodles, Wall Street puppets deciding not to give a damn and sprawl on the lawns with their jackets as blankets, and sunbathing beauties in bikinis taking a last chance at a natural tan. I didn't exactly check those women out, but one of them caught my eye. She raised her head from her book and pushed her sunglasses down her nose as we passed by. She had playful, dark eyes, and a blond mane with multi coloured strands that flowed in a strange way, almost as if gravity didn't apply to it. She raised a questioning eyebrow at the new acquaintance by my side, and all I could do was smile sheepishly back. She was far away enough not to be heard, but I could see her gentle laugh and a big, happy smile aimed at us. She blew me a little kiss, and returned to her book. I pushed her out of my mind, and turned my attention to the wonder by my side instead. Her name is Rebecca Sommerfeld, but if things go my way, she'll be Rebecca Blaine by the end of next summer. I'm thinking a Manhattan wedding. Maybe in the park?