2 comments/ 32371 views/ 0 favorites The Dildo By: MungoParkIII I am stiff and cold, yet soft to the touch -- phallic. I remain hidden, stuffed in a drawer, my body nestling between folded fabrics. My skin, latex scented and soft covering a hard frame interior, remains motionless in the silent darkness. Electrified, I can vibrate on command, the turn of a dial ignites and excites me, adjusting me from a faint hum all the way to an ecstatic moan. But tucked way I remain static, the vibration but idle potential within me. I can only wait, without moving, unchanged for no dildo can cease to be a dildo. It was toward evening one day -- was it my first or thousandth evening? I couldn't tell, the unchanging darkness confuses me and time becomes a fantasy. If I guess, I would say it was more than just one day, but yes, certainly less than a thousand, yet how much more, how much less? The thought befuddles me. It was toward evening in summer, the constant vibration of the cooling system was felt within my drawer, the faint drone a continuing song of hope, when I heard the sound of a human voice. "No, I think I'll just stay home tonight, curl up with a good book." No, more than cliché', it was code, it was code for me, for me! I knew I must straighten up, make ready, and hope the damn batteries are still strong. How frustrating it can be when I am finally slipped into service and the batteries have faded. Yes, I've felt the humiliation of simply being tossed aside to watch as a pillow, or her fingers take my appointed place in her play. Regardless, I'll remain firm from start to finish, never teasing her and then going flaccid as her human friends do, no, I'm here, hard and ready whenever she is. When she finally takes me firmly in her hand I'll show her what I am made of and like a erotic god I'll thrust her until she trembles and pulsates. She slid the drawer open and reached into her fabric pile directly to me. Grasping me firmly, she brought me into the light, working her hands over me to warm my body for her. Then she moved her finger down my shaft to my base, tentatively pinching the dial in her fingers and turning until we both heard the click and, thank goodness, the refreshing hum. Relieved that the batteries didn't fail me, I felt her recline onto the bed and in a moment I felt my bare skin touch hers. As usual, it began with a kiss, her lips drew me into her mouth and her tongue moistened my tip for my journey downward. Soon I felt the two erect nubs, first on the left and then the right. So similar in texture and rigidity, I savored the slightest variance as she teased herself. I don't kid myself, this was just a short pause on our journey, both of us yearned for another, very different connection. Ah yes, then I slipped downward, first through her soft forest of curls, over the mound and then softly, ever so slowly between her delicate folds. Though I've been there before, it was as if each time was different, strangely new yet so intimately familiar. Today she was moist and ready, while other times I must work my way into the folds. But yes, I felt the wet dark warmth of her as I dipped into her essence wondering, "Will she push me deeper or slip me upward, up her blossoming slit to the beautiful nub with that single, so important purpose?" Today it was upward, and since I was nicely moistened by her I slipped easily searching for her button, the switch that ignites her without the need of batteries. Oh yes, she dialed me then and my hum became a deep moan as my movement sank into her, drawing the nub upward, encompassing it in the sheer delight of my vibration. She moved me, dancing around it, touching it, slipping away and then returning as her hips lifted from the bed and her moans joined mine in an ecstatic duet. "She's trembling now," I told myself, she was losing control as I was pressed against her nub, her body feeling nothing, knowing nothing but me and the sensation I'm shuddering through her. Whimpering she arched her back, her every muscle taut in anticipation of almost... almost... almost YES, yes, yes, yes, now, now. I slid downward and dove into her wetness, filling her with myself as she pulsated around me once and then again. My dial was turned and I clicked off, remaining motionless inside her. Still firm and hard unlike her human friends, who at this moment would usually shrink away to slip out in a cold wet mess, completely finished. No, I was ready for more if she wanted it, ready to be dialed in again, ready to satisfy her to her very depth if she chose. And also willing, after a quick wipe with a damp rag and then a towel, to return to the silence and darkness of her drawer, ready at any time to please her, afraid of nothing but the grim disappointment of dead batteries. The Dildo *Edited by Redwings1202 "Hello?" "Hey Brian, it's me. Listen, are you available Saturday? "Depends. What time?" "Like the afternoon, say 2?" "Sure, I think I can manage that." "Great! I'll text my address but, listen, you can't say anything." "You know I never do." "No I mean when you get here. You can't say anything. Not a word ok?" "Wait, what do you mea..." but she'd already hung up. I shook my head. Typical Sandy. Of course I'd do what she wanted, because in this so-called City of Angels, she's the real article. Sandy is a bleach blonde goddess, 5'10", mostly legs that end in a delectable ass. She has the nicest set of DDs that money can buy, and a face that keeps her in consistent modeling work, which is says something in L.A. Me? I'm 5'1", almost completely bald at 26, and have recently accepted the fact that I am a bartender. Not a stand-up comedian bartending between gigs. Just a bartender. You'd think that with the deck stacked so high against me I'd have some compensatory feature, like super intelligence or being hung like a T-Rex. But, besides my lack of height and hair, I'm pretty much normal. I can't change it, so I embrace it. I shave my head, stay active at the gym, and try to be the best damn bartender in town. Just the same, I'm still not in the same league as Sandy. I thought I was just flattering a customer to earn my tip when I asked her out. I gawped like a fish when she accepted. We went out for two months, after which she curtly announced that our relationship wasn't going anywhere and called it off. The next Saturday night she was back in the bar with some unctious jackass. I tried not to be the stalker ex, but couldn't help but notice him winking at girls and fist bumping guys while he ground against her ass on the dance floor. When she took a break to go to the ladies' room he hit the bar and ordered two Heinies. "That's a beautiful woman you're with tonight," I shouted over Lady Gaga's enthusiastic moans. "Fuck yeah she is," he grinned, "I'm gonna tap that 'till she can't walk straight." I gave him a thumbs up, but pulled Sandy over first chance I got. "Where'd you find this creep?" I asked just loud enough for her to hear. She smiled and slapped me on the arm. "I never thought you'd be the jealous type!" "Seriously," I said, "you can do better." She laughed, told me to get over it and went back to dancing. The following Wednesday she was back, this time alone. "You were so right," she whined while she sipped her complimentary Alibi. "Todd was a total douchebagel. I'm going to have you check out all of my boyfriends from here on out." I thought she was kidding, but she wasn't. My "reviews" were pretty frequent at first, but tapered off as the months went by. Sandy'd bring in a guy and send him to the bar for drinks. I'd serve him, exchange a little small talk, and scope him out. None of them deserved her. They didn't even come close. Then again, I did have an ulterior motive for killing her relationships. No boyfriend meant no sex, and Sandy took to alleviating her libidinal frustrations on me. We weren't a couple; just fuck buddies when neither of us was in a relationship...which for me was practically never. I tried not to abuse my position but the tool bags Sandy always came in with made the job pretty easy. That is, until Alex. I hadn't seen her for a while, then she breezed into the bar, beaming like a glostick with 225 lbs. of beefcake in tow. If Sandy was a real life Barbie, Alex was every inch her Ken; he had the hair, the height, the body builder's frame and dazzling pearly whites. They were out on the floor a long time and he was making me nervous; he was fully focused on her. He had his hands on her the entire time, but they were always on her shoulders, her waist or the small of her back, but never further. When the time came for his unwitting interview it all checked out. He was respectful to her, even in her absence, and babbled about qualities even I had never appreciated in her. I couldn't find a single thing wrong with him. "Well?" she asked when he excused himself to the men's room. "Far as I can tell he's the real deal," I said. I wished to God I could have said something else, but it would have been a lie. "Really?" Her eyes sparkled. "I thought for sure you'd say no but he's so great, I waited six weeks to bring him in and I was sooooo nervous! You're positive? He's really a good guy?" I explained that a five minute conversation was sometimes enough to tell if a guy was a total prick, but hardly enough time to see if they were matched on 31 levels of compatibility. So, as far as I could tell, everything I'd seen checked out. She bounced up and down, hugged me, gushed her thanks and "buh-byes," and that's the last I saw or heard from her. Then, a little over a year later, I got her call. Naturally, I assumed Sandy and Alex had finally broken up and I was once again her booty call. Her stipulation for silence? Strange, but whatever. I shaved, scrubbed, brushed, deodorized and got psyched up for the visit. But nothing could have prepared me for that Saturday. Her apartment was a new place, nicer than what she'd had before. Beautiful landscaping, huge pool, on site gym and a killer location. A place that said, "I can afford a house, but I prefer to live in the city." There went the idea that she and Alex had broken up. Either this was combined incomes territory or Sandy had landed an extremely lucrative gig. Doubts picked at me while I found a parking space. Was I getting laid today or not? We'd always had a strict "no cheating" policy and I still wasn't comfortable breaking that. And if she had hit it big what did she want from lil' old me? Hopefully the same thing she'd always wanted. I climbed up to the third floor and rang the bell, and hoped for a quick answer. Instead I got more confusion. "Oh good, here it is!" Sandy called over her shoulder after she opened the door. I kicked off my sandals at the entryway, looked inside and saw the most adorable redhead ever. Crystal blue eyes, tiny pixie nose, hair just brushing her shoulders and cheeks that were dusted with freckles. She sat on a luxuriant leather couch, not the Ikea one Sandy used to have, with her brows furrowed like she didn't know what was going on. That made two of us. Sandy grinned and held out her hands like she was Vanna White and I was a new car. "It's my dildo!" I almost broke the silence rule right there but she held her finger to her lips and shot a warning glare in my direction. In the meantime, the other girl was apparently not under the same restrictions. "What?!" she spluttered and stood up, "I didn't think you meant an actual guy! There's no way I can do this! What are you thinking!" "Um, I think you should go make us some drinks," Sandy said to me. I silently complied, but as I exited the room for the kitchen, I couldn't help but sympathize with the strange girl on the couch. What the hell was Sandy thinking? I tried to eavesdrop but the cute redhead wasn't shouting anymore and the walls were too good. Looks like I was still in the dark. I located the liquor cabinet and took stock. Jose, Goose, Jack, and Malibu. No vermouth, no gin, but there was a half empty bottle of Cointreau. A quick peek in the fridge verified that Sandy kept cranberry juice. "Yep," I said to myself, "Cosmos it is," and got to work, wondering how she could introduce me as her dildo. I guess it wasn't entirely inaccurate, but I had let myself believe I was a little more to her than that. "Well," I thought while I sloshed the alcohol and juice together in a shaker, "so much for petty fantasies." When I brought the drinks in, the redhead had calmed down. Sandy took her Cosmo without so much as a glance in my direction, and the other girl only flicked her eyes at me before resuming voicing her thoughts. "It's just that I'm not that pretty," she said. Sandy made an unladylike snort. "Not even true," she said, "guys look at you all the time." "Yeah, and what do they see? Freckles. All over my face and arms. The moment I step outside I'm covered with them." "Oh stop, your freckles are cute." "No, they're not. And I have these stubby little horse legs, and no hips, and no ass, and no boobs." She'd started at a reasonable decibel level, but now her voice built into a wail. "I look like a little boy! And no one-" "Susan, you're being ridiculous." Sandy cut her off, but Susan wasn't deterred. "No I'm not! I'm ugly and bad at sex and I can't keep a boyfriend!" "Hey! Calm down! I think this has gone long enough. Brian, take off your clothes." Wait, what? Even when the request registered I was hesitant, but Sandy insisted. "Now please, before we all freak out and join a convent?" Wow, this had just become very awkward. I peeled off my shirt and someone made a little noise while my eyes were covered. It must've been Susan because Sandy said, "I know right?" My shirt cleared my head; they both eyeballed me like I was a piece of steak. I blushed hard, feeling objectified, which is simultaneously flattering and insulting. I guess this is what a girl must feel when a guy checks her out. I briefly considered making a little show of it, but I hadn't started that way and technically Sandy had said "take off your clothes," not "perform a striptease," so I eased my shorts down and nudged them out of the way. "All of them," Sandy flatly ordered, so I pulled off my boxers and held my breath. I should have been rock hard, being naked and alone with two beautiful women, one of whom I knew quite intimately, but the situation was so weird I wasn't erect at all. "Turn around for us," Sandy said . So, feeling more and more like a dog in a show, I did. "Very nice," she said after about ten long seconds. Maybe it was just me, but I though the A/C was cranked up a little high. Sandy announced, "Alright Su, now it's your turn." Susan looked startled, and then it was her turn to blush. "There's no way. I can't do this." Sandy, the bubbly, almost flippant cheerleader type, got dead dog serious. Voice level, looking right into her eyes Sandy said, "Yes you can, and it's important that you do. You are totally safe here, and it will be ok." They held each other's gaze for a minute, like they were doing some form of girl-telepathy, and then Susan nodded. She took a swallow of her drink and stood up. Eyes fixed on the floor, she pulled off her top to reveal a simple, utilitarian bra. Still staring at the floor she unzipped her shorts, and did an adorable hip shimmy as she worked them off, then with just a moment's hesitation, deftly unhooked her bra and shrugged it off, leaving her standing in nothing but her light pink cottons. She was right, she didn't have much in the boob department, but what she did have was perfect. Two small swells tipped with quarter sized areola, pale in color but distinct from the rest of her skin, with eraser sized nips that were clearly erect. I'd like to think it was because she was turned on, but more likely it was because of the cold air. She hooked her thumbs into her panties but Sandy told her to stop. She stood up and walked behind her naked friend, pointed toward my pelvis and whispered "look." Susan dragged her eyes off the floor and fastened on my cock, which had grown to full size. "That is why we're using a real guy today," Sandy murmured in the redhead's ear. "You did that to him. You are a beautiful, sweet, sexy woman, and whoever says otherwise is lying to you." Susan stared at my cock, not saying a word. "Ok punkin?" Sandy chirped and patted her friend on the ass. Susan nodded and sat back down. Sandy grinned sweetly. "Great, let's get started then. I think you should blow him." Susan was in a constant blush, but Sandy's mention of oral made it deepen. "I thought you were going to show me?" "Nope. I have a boyfriend so I don't use dildos, but I'll walk you through it." "Um, ok," Susan stood up and tentatively stepped toward me and dipped down to her knees. "What are you doing?" Sandy barked before her knees hit the carpet, and Susan popped back up like a whack-a-mole. "I thought you said to give him a... Blow. Job." She was clearly uncomfortable saying it. "Yeah, but not like that. It's hard on your knees and neck. Sometimes I do it to be all submissive and Alex gets a kick out of it, but that's an extra special thing. Here, bring him over to the sofa." Susan cautiously took me by the hand and guided me to the couch, and Sandy arranged cushions and told me to lie down lengthwise. Then she positioned Susan, still on her knees, between my legs, but in a more comfortable position. I'd never considered that before. I'd thought blowjobs were all about hands and tongues and lips; necks had never entered my mind but it made sense. No girl I'd ever dated expected me to give head from my knees, why should it be any different for them? In the meantime, Sandy delivered a tutorial like a seasoned instructor. "So remember what we talked about with the date? It's the same thing with sex, any kind of sex. Tease him until you're sure he wants it, then give it to him a little at a time. If he's already naked that means that he's going to get off. That's a given. There's just no point in rushing it." Susan listened attentively, hands resting on her pale thighs. "So," Sandy continued, "this is a good time to get acquainted with his cock. Look at it, touch it, move it around. It's all yours." I was afraid Susan would take her friend's advice too literally and start hauling and twisting on my junk, but she was quite delicate. The lull in activity had caused my enthusiasm to wane a bit, but she smoothly traced her fingertips over the shaft's surface, followed veins and lightly stroking under the head. My cock quickly returned to full strength. "It's growing!" she sounded amazed, pleased with herself. Sandy replied "Yep, this is exactly where you want him." I closed my eyes and relished the sensation, a long continuous feather touch, from the base to the tip and back, circling the ridge of the head, down the underside, and around. She fluidly switched from fingertips to the backs of her knuckles, then lightly scraped with manicured nails and returned to fingertips, sometimes one finger, sometimes two or more. I shuddered when she used all four fingers with both hands, stroking up in a gentle petting motion. It was always light, always soft, not rushed, not overly eager. She wasn't trying to get me off, just curious about my cock and what she could do with it. "Hey look, precum," Sandy's voice interrupted my reverie. "Take your fingertip and spread it around." Susan did, adding new sensation on my sensitive head, painting it in my own fluid. "Now blow on it," Sandy pressed, and Susan did, and I groaned. It went on and on, small touches, small motions. Teasing, pushing, never grasping, not moving to the next level. There was no commitment, she just flirted with me. Well, she just flirted with my cock, naked, beautiful, and patiently stroking. The feeling was wonderful, but she was pushing me past the stage of reason. Around the shaft in slow spirals, back and forth, a slight squeeze to milk more precum, more spreading over the head, and that was all. I wanted, no, I needed more; this light petting just wasn't enough anymore, but, sworn to silence, I couldn't ask. She gently cupped my balls with her left hand and softly traced with her right. Maddening caresses, sweet agony. I clenched my fists and bit back a whimper, mentally pleaded for her to give me more, to press harder, to stroke more firmly, but she continued as before. Gentle touches, feather strokes. I fixed the thoughts in my head and stared hard at her, trying to communicate with my eyes, but she wasn't looking at me. He eyes were fastened on my cock, casually playing with her new toy while I burned up inside. "Alright, now get your hand around and squeeze it." Sandy's order was pure bliss. Susan's small hand wrapped around me and pressed, gently at first but harder with Sandy's encouragement, stationary but pulsing. "Know what? Your hands are pretty small. I'll bet you can get both of them on him. There ya go. Now squeeze and kind of jack him off at the same time, but slow." After the erotic torture I had just endured, the feeling of Susan's hands firmly pushing, moving the soft outer skin over my hard cock, up and down, squeezing and releasing, it was amazing. "More precum," Sandy intoned softly. "What I want you to do is stop. "Now look him in the eye. "Now lick it up." Susan leaned in close and stuck out her tongue, broad and flat, against the head of my cock. With her bright blue eyes locked on mine, she slowly licked, using the entire length of her tongue, flicking the tip and lapping the clear, sticky liquid into her mouth. "How's it taste?" Sandy asked. "Kind of weird," Susan answered, and went back to jacking me. Up and down, squeeze and release, steady movement, no aberration. She built me up, unconsciously moving harder, adding pressure, giving more. Oh, fuck it was good, but after that brief contact with her tongue, even this was no longer enough. I needed more again, but she didn't seem as if she were even thinking about giving it. She went on for what felt like ten minutes but was probably closer to two or three, because it always feels longer when you have no idea when it will end. Both hands on my cock, jacking me, squeezing me, milking more fluid out of the tip. I hoped that she would lick it up again, but she just let it trickle down and lubricate her manual activity, which added to the pleasure but still wasn't enough. I wanted to thank Sandy when she said. "Ok, I think we've made him wait long enough. This time I want you to kiss the very tip." Again, with those gorgeous eyes fixed on mine, she leaned over and tenderly kissed the tip of my cock. "Kiss it again, but take more of it in." The tip of my cock pressed through warm, soft lips, and gently slid back out. "Again, more, and so on until you can't take any more of him." With unwavering eyes, she took more and more of my cock in. First the head, then softly back out. Down about an inch, then back out. Not just bobbing her head, she rocked her whole body forward as she filled her mouth with me, breathing through her nose, blinking her eyelashes, laving her tongue over me until she was about three quarters of the way down. Then she stopped. It was everything I needed, and it was incredible. "Is that all you can take?" Sandy asked. Not daring to pull off until instructed, Susan nodded, rubbing my dick back and forth in her mouth. "That's not very far," Sandy said, sounding a little worried. I wanted to shout, "It's enough! Let's go!" but I wasn't allowed. "Never mind, maybe we'll teach you deepthroat some other time. Grab the rest of it with your hand, squeeze him like you were before. Keep going as far as you can and use your tongue." Susan went back to work, just as Sandy described, still looking up at me. My god she was good! Maybe it was because she had me so worked up, or maybe it was because a pretty girl I hadn't even known existed twenty minutes ago was naked with my cock between her lips. Maybe it was just the unfamiliar and strangely erotic haze of being treated like a male blow up doll, while my ex-lover coached her friend through giving me head. Maybe was the simple fact that my cock was being sucked into a hot, wet, eager mouth. Whatever. The whole thing had my mind buzzing and my blood rushing faster and harder. More, oh god I wanted more. Her tongue was circling and pushing and lashing and slurping. It was soft and pliable, but the roof of her mouth was ridged and firm. All of it was rubbing, caressing, sliding and fucking my hard, greedy cock... and it was heaven. I looked down at her, listened to her soft, feminine grunts as she worked it in her mouth, the smack of broken suction as she pulled off and then devoured me again and again, feeling her tight lips squeeze around and suction resume, tongue undulating. The Dildo Dark, animal thoughts crowded into my brain. "Yeah you teasing little bitch, suck it. Suck my hard cock until I cum in your mouth. That's what you want, right? You little slut bitch you want to taste my cum. You want it to slide down your throat, feel it pulse, feel it rushing through my cock and you want to suck it all out of me. Ohmygod..." I closed my eyes and let her go at it. I wanted to grab her face and fuck it. I wanted to flip her over and shove my cock into her. I wanted to bathe her mouth and pussy in cum and make her mine. I wanted her. I wanted her. And I was having her but I wanted more. "... so if he does tell you he's about to cum then he's a keeper, so you do swallow," I heard Sandy's voice floating somewhere above my head, completely disconnected from the sex induced rage rushing in my blood, washing over my brain, my balls and my cock, reminding me of that very important courtesy. But, how was I to tell her? I wasn't supposed to talk. So, I tapped her on the shoulder instead and hoped she would get my meaning in time. Cum was already boiling out of me. She got the messag, but held still and let it fill her mouth as my cock spasmed over and over in relief, emptying my desperation in hot, thick gushes. I looked down and saw her wince. Finally, I became too sensitive and pushed her off, but a thin trail of semen remained suspended from her lips to my deflated tool, until the clear strand became too heavy. It dripped off, decorating her chin. She visibly swallowed, then looked away from me for the first time since taking me in her mouth. "That's pretty gross," she announced. Sandy laughed. "That's ok, you don't have to swallow every time. But like I said, if you want to keep him around you want the first BJ to be a memorable one, so you pull out all the stops. Well most of them anyway." Susan just raised her eyebrows as she took a long sip of Cosmopolitan, and I felt utterly, gratefully, spent. I was glad I hadn't really said all of those awful things that rolled through my brain to Susan. She seemed like a really nice girl. In any case, I don't know, I couldn't think straight at all. "Moving right along," Sandy breezily motioned, "Now we need to talk about you. How do you feel?" "Ummm, proud? A little excited? I've never sucked a guy off before, they always got too impatient with me." "That's because you haven't sucked the right guys. You need to find considerate guys that will take care of you, which leads us to your next lesson. Are you turned on at all?" Susan shook her head. "Not really." Damn, from the way she'd been blowing me, she coulda fooled me. "If you're going to have sex you need to want it. You're more inspired when you're all hot and bothered. Besides, sex is supposed to be fun. So you have to let your guy take care of you." I could have added quite a bit to that, but the moratorium on speech was still in place. I wanted to explain that for guys, or at least for me, more than half the point of sex is to get your lady off. It's a huge ego boost and hot as hell. "What we're gonna do is go to the bedroom," Sandy said, "I'll put on some music, adjust the lights, and we're going to let Brian here give you a massage." Susan looked uncomfortable. "I don't know. I really don't think I'm ready for sex." "Oh, don't worry about that. He won't touch you anywhere or do anything you don't want, ok? Like I said, you're safe here." Susan looked doubtful, but she acquiesced so we all stood up and followed Sandy to the guest bedroom. I tried to appear as nonthreatening as possible, but Susan wasn't even looking at me. It was so weird, just three minutes ago she'd been sucking my dick like a crazed vixen, and now she was behaving like a shy teenager. Sandy and I turned down the sheets, and then I closed the blinds and turned the lights down to a soft glow, while Sandy found some lotion and plugged an ipod into a sound deck. I had Susan lie face down on the bed, arms stiffly held by her sides, and climbed up with her. I squirted some lotion in my hands, a decidedly unsexy noise, and rubbed them together to warm it up while Usher's soothing tenor and the scent of blackberry filled the room. She stiffened just a little when I touched her neck, but soon she released a sigh while I worked my slick hands over knots in her shoulders and back, from the top down in slow, methodical circles. Over the shoulders, down the spine, pausing only to gather more lotion. I symmetrically caressed over her ribcage and back, down to the small of her back, skipping her pink-pantied ass and staying well away from her inner thighs. At the same time, I still gave careful attention to her so-called "horse legs;" the insides of her knees, down to her calves, and finally her feet. I sat backwards, straddling a leg while working each foot. She must have felt my resurgent hard on, but didn't say anything about it. Instead, she groaned and hummed, visibly relaxing under the constant pressure while I tried not to think of the burn in my thumbs. I worked my way back up her legs, getting a little more daring with her thighs. She tensed, but as the motions remained even and persistent, no implicated desire, she relaxed again. I stayed there for a long while to reassure her, let her focus on the feeling now and not what may come. Then slowly, gradually, I allowed my hands more freedom, to dip into her erogenous zones, closer to her heat. Her groaning stopped, but her muscles remained lax. I kept at it, longer than was absolutely necessary, enjoying her pale skin, vulnerability and tacit permission. Then I backed off, skipping over her ass and went to the small of her back. I pressed hard, ignoring the protest in my thumbs and relishing the noise she made, something between a moan and a growl. I stayed there longer than I'd planned as well, then traced back up the spine and let my hands slip down to the sides of her chest. If she'd been any bigger, my hands would be on her boobs, but they were safely hidden underneath her. Still, my intent wasn't lost on her. She hummed encouragingly as I stroked her sides. I worked there for a while and let my hands recover, then slid back down to the small of her back. She was more audible this time, but I was only using it as a step. I increasingly worked lower, sliding the elastic band of her underwear over her curves, pushing my thumbs into her pliant flesh, pushing her permissive boundaries until she arched her ass, allowing me to peel her last t garment off. By allowing free access to her body she had agreed that she was mine. I could do whatever I wanted and she would love it, because the only things I wanted to do to her were the things she also wanted, whether or not she knew it. I was so distracted by the telltale damp on her panties that I forgot to warm up the next dollop of lotion. She yelped when I touched cold hands to her tight, gorgeous little cheeks, so I sped up the motion just a bit to hasten the temperature build. Soon the damage was repaired, and I ran hands between her cheeks, grazing over her tight pucker, low enough to feel the wiry hairs of her pussy, but just stopped short. She was clearly ready for more, but I wanted her to look at me while I made love to her beautiful body. Gently, I nudged her on the side until she understood and rolled over. Her blue eyes were blissful, hungry and glazed, and she immediately spread her legs. After what she'd done to me earlier, though, there was no way I was going to let her off that easy. "Oh wow," Sandy's voice sounded loud and harsh in my ears. She was staring at Susan's pussy, which was ablaze with a fiery, untamed bush. "We're going to have to take care of that sometime. Guys like Brazilian." I silently disagreed. Some maintenance was needed for sure. A "curated" pussy indicates a woman has put some forethought into her sexuality, which is nice for a guy to see, but a full wax job on Susan would have been too much.. She was already petite in every way, so a little triangle or a short strip would affirm her sexual maturity, as well as her natural hair color. Of course, I couldn't say a word, so I just tried to regain some of the momentum that Sandy had so rudely stolen. My first impulse was to go straight for Susan's breasts, but I went for her arms first, moving more quickly than I had on her back. Up to the shoulders and across her clavicle, then around and right between, but avoiding, those two inviting buds, I worked down to her tummy and hips, over thighs, not between but agonizingly close, then down her legs to her painted toenails. I lifted each leg to rub her feet, blatantly raking her body with my eyes, watching the folds of her pussy move as I manipulated her limbs. She whimpered and reached for my hand, silently asking for more. Sure, I'd give her what she wanted. Eventually. Using the same gentle touches she had used earlier on my cock, I slid my hands to her breasts. I'd heard that smaller breasts were more sensitive, and it seemed to be true. The hunger in her eyes grew and intensified as I traced my fingers around the edges, finding where her chest ended and her tiny swells began. I gently pressed into those soft borders, running around the simple teardrop shapes, down the sides and around the bottoms, then back up the insides. Always symmetrical, always feather light. Remembering what she'd done to me, I used knuckles and nails and fingertips, zigzagging back and forth over the tops, avoiding her areola and her small, very erect nipples that were pleading to be sucked. Every once in a while I'd press harder, listening to her sharp intake of breath, knowing she wanted more and denying it. Leaving one hand on her breast, I reached down with my other hand and played with the ends of her pussy hair. I gently ran fingers through the top layer of fluff, twirling in circles, careful not to let anything catch and tug, and continued my attentions to her breasts. Her eyes closed, relaxed, permitting me to service her in any way I saw fit. I toyed with her, moving my left hand off her breasts now and then to stroke her sides, down her stomach, making love to her whole body, but always returned to those beautiful buds and merely grazed her luscious nipples. Likewise, my right hand fingers maintained their playful motions in her delicate pubic hair, combing, circling, but never so much as brushing the surface of her pussy lips. The need was building in me, too. I wanted her, same as before when she sucked my cock, but I was in control now. She would have to wait on me. Right now I just wanted to look at her and slowly... slowly... build her heat until she couldn't take it anymore. The music changed from the smooth R&B "I wanna love (fuck) you" ballads to something entirely different and unfamiliar. It was instrumental, still smooth but the tempo suggested intensity, urgency. Apparently Sandy wanted to move things along. I took the hint and leaned over, cupped Susan's pussy, pressed my palm firmly into her and simultaneously flicked my tongue over her right nipple, then licked, then full on massaged it with my wet mouth and she moaned and thrust her chest into my face. The little minx, who hadn't been ready for sex forty five minutes ago, was cooing and gasping like a bitch in heat. I broke with my mouth and switched sides. If anything, her left side was more sensitive. One of her hands found its way to the back of my head, the other clenched around my left wrist and I obliged, pushing and grinding against her soft, furry muff. Using my index and ring fingers, I parted her lips, stroked her wet crease with the middle finger and enjoyed her ecstatic squeaks. There was no doubt what she wanted. Her voice was begging for it, her drenched cunt letting my fingers easily slip through her hidden skin, legs splayed wide in lewd invitation. I pulled off her tiny tit with a loud slurp, nipped at her neck once or twice, looked deep into her wide eyes and paused. Then plunged a finger into her. Her eyes rolled. Lids fluttered, and her mouth fell open in unconscious ecstasy. I stroked her inside, down into her recesses. I circled her clit with my thumb and introduced a second finger into her. Her hips rose and rolled. I scissored my fingers inside her, back and forth over velvet walls, pulling fingers out and pushing them back in again.   This is where I would, normally, lean in and whisper in her ear how beautiful she was. Naked, writhing on my fingers...and how she would look even better on my cock. How I was going to fuck her eager, furry little pussy and fuck her hard, fuck her until she screamed over and over. How she was mine, my beautiful little slut and I'd never let her go. But I couldn't, so I settled for a vodka flavored kiss. It was strange, kissing her after she'd used her mouth on my cock, and after I'd buried my fingers knuckle deep in her cunt, but it was wonderful and needed. It was lips and tongues and wet warmth. Above that, it was accepting, permissive, friendly and desperately passionate at the same time. My fingers never stopped working, my thumb never stopped circling and while my tongue was still in her mouth, she gave her final, muffled squeal. Her legs snapped together and her pussy clenched tight. I let her orgasm ripple through her core uninterrupted, though I was surprised when a warm gush hit my palm. Susan's blush extended down between her breasts, and I admired the rapid rise and fall of her chest as she recovered. "Well, that was exciting," Sandy ginned like the Cheshire Cat. "You done now or you want to keep going?" Susan's eyes roved over my body, shy but hungry, and stilled her gaze on my rigid cock. "I think I could try a little more." "Great, looks like Brian's up for it too. Most guys like a little aggressiveness, so I want you to push him back and climb on top of him." I allowed her to topple me over backward and let her straddle me, loving the feel of her coarse, wet muff against my stomach. "No, move down lower, that's right." She didn't lift and resettle, just pushed her tiny hands against my chest and dragged her crotch against my skin, over my lower abdomen until her pussy lay against my cock. "Now, reach down, take his cock and rub it against your cunt. Yeah, like that. Get it all wet and ready to fuck." Sandy's vocabulary had gotten a little rougher since I'd last seen her. "Ok, just put in in when you're ready. It's all you, girl." Susan straightened her posture and rose on her knees, dragged the head of my cock over her wet crease, down to her entrance, and bit her bottom lip as she swiveled her hips and maneuvered my cock for penetration. I didn't know if this moment was going by too fast or not fast enough. She was beautiful, more beautiful than any girl I'd ever slept with or even seen before. But, this moment, this creature, poised over me, about to surround me with her warmth, with the wet softness of her self, was a moment too valuable to waste. I wanted to be in her, to feel her quiver and pulse in her core, to draw out her ultimate ecstasy and leave her wracked, spent and satiated. I wanted to fuck her and the animal in me resented delay. And then the animal was satisfied. I couldn't contain a groan as I watched her, eyes shut and mouth open, impale herself on my hard, naked cock. She eased down slowly and didn't open her eyes until she was full to the hilt. "Wow, this feels really good." "Yep," Sandy agreed. "If you're trying to impress him, this is the part where you tell him he's 'soooo 'big." "But it is big!" "Sorry honey, but Brian is average. Though I will say he knows how to use every inch he's got. Now Alex... he's a real monster." Goddammit. Looks, personality and rocking an oversized dick? Was there any downside to that guy? But, it's hard to be jealous of another dude when a beautiful woman is riding your cock. And that's exactly what Susan did. Up and down, up and down, I watched her pussy slide up my glistening shaft and swallow it again and again. I ran my hands over her thighs, felt her muscles tense and slacken with her movements. She rocked her hips and fucked herself on my cock. I rested my head and let her take her pleasure from me, let her work her pussy on me, listened to her hum and gasp and moan. She leaned forward and fell onto my chest, clutched my body with her arms and rocked forward, but there was less friction in this position so she sat up again. Her motions slowed but it was still incredible. I counted seconds to distract my mind. As she rose and fell, seconds grew into one minute then two. She kept her steady pace, and just when I felt myself dangerously near my tipping point, she stopped. "Oh my god," she groaned, "it's so good but I'm getting tired. I don't think I can do it anymore." "No problem," Sandy chirped. "roll off of him and lie down on your back." Susan obediently lifted herself up, slipped off of me, and lay back against the pillows. "Now spread your legs, brush your clit with your fingers, look him in the eye and beg him to fuck you." Susan blushed again, which was strange and endearing, considering we were locked in the most intimate of positions mere seconds ago. "There's no way I can do that," she demurred. "Which part?" "Any of it!" "Ok, hold on," Sandy sat up straight. "Are you telling me you don't touch yourself?" "Well, sometimes, yeah, but not in front of... people." She shyly glanced my way. Sandy shook her head. "Guys love to watch. Just do it, you'll be surprised how easy it is." Susan reluctantly allowed her legs to fall open and tentatively reached down to stroke herself. "That's good," Sandy said, "now look at him. Good. Now ask him to fuck you." Susan broke eye contact, but her hand stayed between her legs. "I really can't." "But you were just doing it a minute ago! All you have to do is say it." Susan chewed her lip and kept combing her fingers through her bush, but didn't say anything. "Guys think it's super hot," Sandy sing-songed. and Susan whispered, "Ok." She took a breath, briefly connected with her eyes again but then turned her gaze back on her cute navel. Then she mumbled something that was probably the required words, but I couldn't be sure. "No no no! You've gotta be bold and slutty. Wait, did I say slutty? I meant sultry, but slutty works too. Like this." Sandy scooted over to me on her knees and lay a hand on my chest. "Brian?" she cooed, "Remember that time you took me out to the Point, and I was in that short leather skirt? And remember what you did when you found out I wasn't wearing any panties? You put me up on the hood of your car and ate me out for an hour." Yeah, I remembered that night. The skirt she was wearing was more like an extra wide belt, and I'd known she wasn't wearing any panties from the moment I picked her up, it was that damn obvious. "You knew what I wanted that whole time?" She casually stroked my chest, dropping her voice to a breathy timbre. "I really just wanted you to fuck me." She paused, looked me dead in the eye. "Will you do that for me now? Will you please fuck me?" Good god. Sandy always enjoyed her sex, but this was first class seductress shit right here. "See? That's how you ask." "But that's not even fair! I don't have- I mean I can't- I don't have that kind of history with this guy!" Susan motioned vaguely in my direction. "You have a little history. He made you a drink, right? "Well yeah but what the hell does tha-" "And he looks good, right?" Susan looked me up and down again, from my face to chest, abs, and down to my cock and thought about it. "Yes," she admitted. "Then you sucked his cock and he gave you a massage, then he made you cum didn't he?" Susan admitted again, "Yes." The Dildo "So that's more than enough material for some dirty talk. Come on, give it a try." "Ok," Susan said and took a few seconds to compose herself. "I, um, I really liked the way you touched me?" Susan said to me, "And you felt really, really good and I want you to, to fu-," she took a breath. "I really want you to fuck me." "Please," Sandy added. "I want you to fuck me please," Susan corrected. "It could use some work, but I think that will have to do for now," Sandy said. In the meantime, I couldn't deny Susan's reluctant request. I sat up and settled over her, brushed her hair back over her ear and kissed her. It wasn't that aggressive, hungry, devouring kind of kiss I used to share with Sandy back in our fuck buddy days. It was gentle, playful, controlled but inviting. We massaged one another's tongues and I kissed my way down her jawline to her neck, behind her ear, enjoying a mixed scent of strawberry hair product and something unmistakably her. Meanwhile, her hands were busy exploring me, over my back and shoulders and ass. Then, she impatiently tugged my cock. I got the hint and pressed my hips closer in. She guided me and I slid into her, and we were joined once again. She hummed appreciatively and I ground against her, hitting something in her far recesses that caused her pussy to clamp down tight. Oh god, I could get used to that. But her hands on my ass were urging for more. She had asked, quite politely, for a fucking and not whatever this was. So I gave it to her. Slow and steady, I ran my cock back and forth, deep into her warm, wet, inviting cunt. I kissed her lips and neck, looked in her eyes, listened to her hold her breath and then release, then draw another, over and over. She moaned and whispered "yes, please yes, just like that, oh fu-, oh god," and the whole time her pussy clenched and milked my cock. I pulled her close, touched her with as much of my body as I could, ran my hands over her back and ass and hips, felt her stiff nipples press into my skin, tried not to think of the soft, snug, silky wet grip of her cunt. I counted thrusts off like I was doing calisthenics, I listed drink recipes in my head, I did everything I could think of to delay the inevitable, but there comes a time when a man simply cannot go on. He must either stop or cum, and when she is groaning "don't stop, don't stop," what are your options? So I broke the rules. The first and only time I spoke during the whole strange interlude, was to whisper in her ear, "Baby, I cumming." She moaned and locked her ankles behind my back, and I released. I could not hold back a groan, my body shuddered and trembled and cum rushed through my cock and emptied deep into her, over and over again. She screwed her eyes shut and squealed and groaned with me in pure, raw sexual joy, scoured my back with her nails, and took everything I poured into her. I was finished. Completely drained. I collapsed onto her and lay there gasping for a few seconds. Finally I realized I was being rude and I rolled off of her and admired her body, gleaming from sex induced sweat. "Oh my god you two! That was so intense, I can't wait for Alex to get home after that! It's a good thing it's almost five, I won't be able to wait that long!" I'd forgotten Sandy even existed. I didn't want to remember. I wanted to just lie there and let all of that sexual exhaustion drain out of my muscles. Oh shit. I had to be at work by six, and when you figure in traffic at this time... I hated to be that guy, the one who just gets off and runs, but what was I supposed to do? I bolted out of bed and threw my clothes back on, rushed back in the bedroom to give Susan, who was just now sitting up, a kiss and ran out the door. It wasn't until I was out on the freeway, wondering how I was going to get rid of this heavy smell of sweat, aroused woman and blackberry lotion that it hit me. I just had intense, unprotected stranger sex with an apparently sweet, vulnerable girl and then bailed. I know it was all consensual, but what if she just got swept up in the moment, intimidated or pressured by her friend or by me to do something she didn't really want to do? What if I just knocked her up? What if she really did enjoy it and wanted a relationship now? Actually that wouldn't be terrible. Or would it? She seemed really great and god she was beautiful, but how would that conversation go? My phone rang. "Hello." "Hey Brian it's me. Sorry you had to take off so fast. You going to work? Thanks for helping out you were so great!" "Yeah about that. Couldn't you have given me a little more of a heads up?" "Where's the fun in that? Besides, you might have chickened out. This is exactly what Susan needed and I didn't want you second guessing or getting nervous." "She needed to have sex with a stranger?" "See? You're proving my point. Susan is just a wonderful girl who's shy with sex and had a few bad experiences with really douchey guys. Not every girl has a friend like you to look out for them, you know. She was convinced that she's terrible in the bedroom and she wanted a few pointers, so I told her she could use my dildo." Sandy giggled. "She had no idea I meant you!" "So you thought we should have sex? What's wrong with the usual way, like setting us up on a blind date and let us take it from there?" "Oh I couldn't do that. Susan gets emotionally attached too easily, I don't think she could handle you." "What the hell's that supposed to mean?!" "Oh gosh that came out wrong. I mean, like, you are a really good friend friend and you're really good at sex, but as a boyfriend... well, like, you're a better friend than a boyfriend. Does that make sense?" "Let me get this straight. You don't think I would be able to fill her emotional needs as a boyfriend, so you used me to just fill her sexual needs instead?" "Exactly! Like, I knew how to separate the two but she's not that type of person. That's why I could get away with just, you know, calling you up whenever I needed a fuck, not really expecting you to talk or hang out or whatever. But Susan would totally blame herself and it would be a mess and, youknow, it was just easier this way." I took a second to try and sort through all of that. Truthfully, I didn't know whether I should be flattered or pissed off. "Well, if you weren't happy with our relationship back then I really wish you would have told me. You could have given me a chance, you know, just like you could give me and Susan a chance right now." "What do you mean give you and Susan a chance? Like a chance at a relationship? You horny dog! It hasn't even been an hour and you're trying to get in her pants again!" "That's not it! Not all of it. I mean maybe, but after we get to know each other. You know, like normal people?" "Why? You had your fun, Susan had hers, it's kind of time to move on. You'll get over it, I swear." "I'm not sure Susan is the kind of girl you just 'get over.'" It was quiet on the line for about three seconds. "Uh oh. Brian do you have a crush? Did you just fall in love with my friend while you were fucking her? Oh my god you did, didn't you! I was so worried about her I never thought you would be my problem child! Ok I tell you what. You're coming to the wedding aren't you?" "What wedding?" "My wedding. Oh that's right! Alex's mom and sister were there when I made my guest list and they were asking all these questions about everyone, especially if they were guys and there was no way I could explain you away so I was just gonna mail yours separate, but then I must've forgot! It's in six weeks, I'll send you one. Anyway, Susan will be there. If you want to find her and if she wants to talk to you, I'll wash my hands of whatever happens after that, ok?" Oh shit, Alex is home! ThankssomuchI'llseeyoulaterbye!" I tossed my phone in the cup holder. In six weeks it would be my move.