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Ali's Art Ch. 01

By: harding



As the greyhound bus dropped off the freeway and began to wind through the outskirts of New York I stared through the window at snow piled high alongside the roads. It was December 7th, five months to the day after my eighteenth birthday, and I was going for interview at the School of Art. I was hoping my cousin, Alison, would be there to meet me at the bus station. I had her address written on a slip of paper in my jeans, but big cities were new to me, and I was apprehensive. 

I was happy Ali had agreed to let me stay at her place, or I would be bunking down for two nights in some seedy cheap hotel room. If it has been left up to me, that would have been my destination.

Last week when I told Mom I had the interview, she suggested I ring Ali and ask if she could put me up on her floor. I had shrugged the suggestion off, mostly through embarrassment. Ali was two years older than me, and for just over six years she had lived in our house like my sister. Ali's Dad was my Mom's brother. He was a high pressure salesman and had moved to Chicago soon after he married and Ali had been born within a year. 

When she was six her mother had gone sailing with a friend and neither they nor their dinghy had ever been found. Eventually, years later, she was declared dead. But before that Ali came to live with us. Her Dad said he couldn't work and raise her, so she came for a short while, and ended up staying six years. 

Our house was small but it did have three bedrooms. My parent's room was just about big enough for a small double bed and a dresser. My room and Ali's held two singles and a small desk each.

In those days we did pretty much everything together, and most times when we were young I forgot she wasn't my sister. We played and fought and cried together, just like real siblings, and often we didn't like each other even though we knew we loved each other.

She was twelve when her Dad married for the second time, to a woman barely in her twenties, and suddenly Ali wasn't there anymore. I don't know if it was because of her being gone from our house, or just coincidence, but the summer after she left Mom got pregnant and the following winter my sister Sarah was born.

After Ali went back to her Dad I didn't know if I would ever see her again. My Mom and her brother never seemed close, but somehow things worked out and I managed to see Ali once a year. During August our family would up sticks and move to Chicago. My uncle was well off and lived in a large house on the shores of Lake Superior. Well away from the main house was a small cottage which they rented out. The first two weeks of August were always ours. Mom always came with us, usually Dad as well if he could get the time off.

Each summer when we arrived the same thing happened. I was always sure Ali had forgotten all about me, or grown out of wanting to know me, and I would sit in the window seat in the small cottage living room staring up the path that led down from the main house. Mom and Dad tried to ignore me, and Sarah, at the start, was too small to care.

My heart always turned over when I saw Ali walking down the path. Each year she grew, became more beautiful, and each year we were awkward and shy when we got together, and each year we ended up in tears when we had to part. 

During her teenage years she would write me love letters she wanted to send so I could read them and comment before she dispatched them. For a couple of years these silly letters would arrive with a return envelope and it was my job to make comments and send them back. When Ali reached fifteen the letters stopped as suddenly as they had started.

Two and a bit years ago she had left her home in Chicago and gone to college in New York to study Art, which is what I now wanted to do. Soon after she started in New York, and just after my Dad died, letters began to arrive again telling me about her work and the people she was meeting. They were light chatty notes, but they had meant a lot to me.

Our trips to Chicago still went on, but Ali was rarely there now. Only once, eighteen months before, had she come home, and then only for two days. We took up together the same as we always did, but to me it felt different. She had moved away from home, had grown up, and I felt a barrier between us. I was still in high school, Ali in college, and a chasm had formed between our experiences. 

I guess that had been part of my reluctance to call her, but Mom had picked up the phone and dialed Ali's number, knowing if she left it up to me nothing would happen. She spoke with her for at least ten minutes, laughing and giving an occasional shocked gasp at what went on when a young girl went to the big city, then she said, "Hang on, Alison, Tommy wants to ask you a favor," and passed the phone to me.

"Hi Ali," I said.

"Tom, it's so good to hear your voice. It's been too long!" My stomach gave a little flip at her voice and the way she sounded genuinely pleased to hear from me.

"Yeah," I said, then, "That's kind of what I wanted to ask. I'm coming over there next Friday for an interview at the U and I could do with somewhere to crash I don't suppose I could use your floor could I it's OK if it's not convenient I can always find-"

"Tom, that would be great!" she interrupted me. "I'd really love that. Art? Wow, following in my footsteps then?"

"Well, not as good as you, obviously, but it's what I want to do."

With the ice broken we chatted for a while longer and Ali promised to meet me from the bus and show me around town.

I put the phone down and Mom stared a question at me. Finally she said, "Well?"

I grinned, "She said she'd love to have me stay. She wants me to hang out all weekend. Would that be okay with you, Mom? I'll ask Dag for Thursday afternoon and Friday off and come back Sunday." I looked a question back at Mom.

She seemed to be thinking about it, but I knew she would say yes, and she did.

I hugged her and said, "Thanks Mom. I know it's going to be hard on you if I go away, but I want this so much."

She hugged me back and rested her head on my shoulder, "I know you do, Tommy. And we'll cope. I've managed before, after your father died, and I can manage this time. I don't want you staying here just for me. You need to follow your dreams."

I gave her one more squeeze back and then had to pull myself out of her arms. Mom always was a big hugger, and since she'd been on her own I think she had gotten worse. She went back to the stove and continued making our evening meal. I sat at the kitchen table and read the paper Dag had passed on to me after he'd finished with it.

Our house on Market Street, in the town of Denton, east of Baltimore, was small. But at least we owned it outright after Mom used the small insurance payment to close out the mortgage after Dad passed away. Although I should explain, he was not my real father.

Mom had gotten pregnant in High school and dropped out to get married at 16. She had only turned 17 three months when I was born. By the time she was twenty and I was just out of nappies my biological father left her and she brought me up alone for two years. The man I called Dad met and married her when she was twenty-three, and even though I was young I could feel the happiness that flowed out of her during those years warming the entire house.

Then a drunk driver ploughed through a red light and caved in the door of Dad's car. He was pronounced dead at the scene and so at age fifteen I stood in rain at his funeral, holding my little sister's hand (she was his true daughter) while our old life was buried with him.

The insurance pay out was small, and the man who hit him had connections and in some way managed to get out of any blame for what happened. Mom used most of the money to secure our home, and went back out to work.

I finished High School and we sat down and discussed my future. I loved painting and drawing and I wanted to follow my cousin Alison who had gone to the School of Art in New York and was now in her third year. We sat up late into the night, long after Sarah had been tucked in bed, and discussed whether I should go to College or not. 

I could recall every moment of that night as I lay on our small couch in the living room and Mom lay against me, resting between my legs, her head back against my chest. We had sat like that for as long as I could remember - to begin with it had been me sitting between her legs and then, sometime over the last few years the roles had reversed and now she sat between mine. I had felt very mature, very much the man of the house, and closer to my Mom than I had ever done before.

Despite a hunger to take my studies further, I didn't want to leave Mom to cope on her own. For her part, Mom didn't want to hold me back, and we talked it one way and another until finally she wore me down. The only compromise I could manage was to put off College by a year. I had been pretty young when I graduated High School because my birthday fell at the start of August, and we both thought it would not put me at a disadvantage if I took a year out before going to college. I had been working weekends for a Landscaping firm owned by Dag Edlund, a good man Mom knew through her job in the office of a construction firm. He was always short of good workers and jumped at the chance when I asked if I could go full time for a year.

I had applied to various colleges, but the one I really wanted to go to was to New York, the same as my cousin. I had received an invitation to interview, hence the phone call, hence the arrangement to take the bus there.

And so finally there I was, five minutes out from the bus station, with butterflies in my stomach. They were mostly about my interview in the morning, but also a bit about meeting Alison again. She was my mother's brother's eldest daughter and growing up we were as close as siblings. Now she would be grown up, almost 22, and I felt very young and naive.

I'd had a slight crush on Ali since I was old enough to notice she was a girl, but thankfully she had never seemed to realize. As she grew and developed I would often find myself staring at her breasts, and had to force myself to look away. She must have known I was doing it, but she never said anything or gave any indication of what was going on. As I matured I made a conscious effort to stop, but at the same time Ali bloomed into full womanhood and became even more beautiful and I just had to look.

Ali was tall at five-nine, only a couple of inches shorter than me, and she was slim and long and lean. Those breasts though, they were what topped the package off. They were not huge, probably 34C, but absolutely magnificent with, and I imagined a lot of this, I admit, a perfect shape. It had been tough, growing up, not to stare.

Now I was about to meet her again. She was a grown woman and I was meant to be a young man. I was going to have to behave around her and try to act like I wanted her to see me.

The bus pulled in and I grabbed my old suitcase. It held a couple of changes of underwear and my suit, which Mom had insisted I should wear to the interview. I followed the queue down the bus and stepped out into icy air and looked around.

"Tom," I heard, and turned to see Ali waving at me. Her dark russet hair had grown since I had last seen her and fell down below her shoulders. She ran across and grabbed me in a big hug, pulled me tight against her and kissed my cheek. Wow, the breasts were still there, I thought as they pressed against me, obvious even through the thick coat she wore. 

Ali put her hands on my shoulders and stepped back, looked at my face and then all the way down and back up. I had on my old leather jacket, blue jeans and sneakers.

"God Tom, when did you get to be such a hunk?"

I smiled and shrugged. "I'll let you know if I ever get there," I said.

Ali shook her head, "Oh no, definite hunk material. I'll have to hide you away." She put her arm through mine and pulled me away from the bus. "Come on, let's go, you must be worn out and frozen."

Alison's apartment was at the top of a four story brownstone and by the time we reached her door I was breathless, but she was not. She opened the door and ushered me in. "My palace," she said with a sweep of her arm.

The living room was pretty small, and smack in the middle was an enormous sofa. 

"Your bed for the night, I'm afraid." Alison said.

"If I fall down the back you'll never find me again," I said.

A small kitchen area was tucked into one corner with a large window that looked out over darkness with a few scattered lights.

Pushed back against the far wall of the living room was a narrow desk holding an old Apple computer, the kind that had a built in monitor. In front of the desk was a tripod with a state of the art digital SLR screwed to it. I went and kneeled down to look at it.

"Can I?" I asked.

"Sure," Ali nodded. "You know cameras?"

"I know a bit, yeah, but this is gorgeous." I unclipped it from the tripod and turned it on. A professional flash was attached to the top and it whined as it charged up. The head was turned up to bounce light from the ceiling. I knew that was a simple way to avoid the harsh shadows a flash gun usually produced.

I turned and focused on Ali where she was making coffee in the kitchen and the auto focus sharpened on her face. I turned the camera to vertical and zoomed so that just her head and shoulder filled the frame. "Take your picture, miss?" I said.

Ali smiled and as she did I pressed the shutter.

She laughed, "I didn't think you meant that!"

I looked at the image on the rear display. Not bad, I thought, for an unfamiliar camera. I switched it off.

"Really nice," I said.

"An advantage of the course. It's from college, I get to borrow it for as long as I want. It's not really the same, but sometimes you can't sit for hours sketching. I take pictures and then use them later as templates." Alison waved to the dark window with her hand. "The park's out there," she said. "You'll be able to see it in the morning. It's the reason I picked this place. It's tiny but the views are awesome"

Opposite the kitchen area were two doors covering half the wall. Alison nodded to the far one, "My bedroom," she said, then the other, "Bathroom. There's a shower but no bath, and don't try to turn round with your arms out," she laughed.

"It's nice," I said.

Alison laughed, "Yeah, right. But it's cheap, and I don't need to share."

"Except with me."

She hugged me and laughed, "You're my favorite cousin, Tom," she said. "You don't count. Oh, that didn't come out right, did it?" and she laughed again.

I put my small bag down next to the sofa and flopped down, kicked off my sneakers and put my legs out, then wriggled down. She was right, I could stretch my full length along it easily. It must have been seven feet long, and over four feet deep, and was totally out of place in the small room.

Alison slapped my feet so she could sit and I pulled them back so she had a space at the far end.

"I thought you'd be tired tonight, so I'll make us some food here and you can get an early night. We want you rested and bright for your interview tomorrow. God, Tom, it would be so cool if you got in here, we could see each other all the time."

"I like the college," I said. "I looked at a few others, but this is my number one choice. Has it been good for you, Al?"

"It's been great. One of the best in the country, I think."

"But you finish this year," I said. "So we might not see each other anyway."

"I've been asked to do post-grad, and been offered some part time teaching, so I'll be staying around. You can't avoid me that easily. I'll be here to keep an eye on you, make sure you keep out of trouble."

"Pity," I said, and she slapped me on the leg and got up. "Food. Is spaghetti okay?"

"I'm too shattered to know the difference," I said, "But spaghetti's fine."

The spaghetti really was fine, but as I ate it began to wash over me just how exhausted I really was. I had done nothing at all for several hours, just sat in the bus, but I felt like I hadn't slept for a week. When the phone rang it startled me awake and I realized I had stopped eating, but I couldn't tell how long ago.

Ali got up and went across to the phone and brought it back to the small kitchen table. I could hear only her side of the conversation.

"Mags, Hi... yeah, he's here now..." Alison listened and then laughed, "Yeah, he is... No, not tonight, we're catching up... Yeah, he'll be here tomorrow... I don't know if that's a good idea, you know... no... maybe... okay, see you."

Ali put the phone down on the table and picked up her fork, swirled spaghetti around it.

"Friend?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"You don't need to put people off because I'm here, Ali," I said.

"It's not a problem," she said. "Besides, I want to spend time with you. I haven't seen you for ages!"

"I don't want to get in the way."

"You're not."

"Were you going out tonight, tomorrow?" I asked.

"Nothing planned, but Maggie asked. It's okay though."

"I'm tired tonight," I said, "but I wouldn't mind joining you tomorrow, if you like."

Ali laughed. "I'm not sure it would be quite your kind of place, Tom, but thanks for the offer."

"Oh," I said, wondering what I had done. Ali probably didn't want to be seen hanging around with her younger cousin. Not cool. I didn't pick that vibe up from her voice, but there was something there in the background just the same. I lifted my fork and started eating again.

A couple of minutes passed, then Ali sighed and reached across and put her hand on top of mine.

"I've upset you now, Tom, I'm sorry, I didn't mean for that."

"S'okay," I said. "Fine."

She took in a deep breath and stared across at me. "It's not fine, Tom. I really like you, and I don't want you to think..." She hesitated, waiting a long moment, then said "You do know I'm gay, don't you?"

"Uhh... no," I said.

"I thought you did," she said.

I shook my head. "But it's okay, Ali, it's fine."

"And I'd love for you to come out with us tomorrow, but where we are going, it might not be quite your kind of place. You are straight, aren't you?"

I nodded.

"Tom, you're blushing!" Ali grinned.

"Well... it's just... we've never had this kind of talk before, have we? It's not what I'm used to."

Ali reached across and gave my hand another squeeze. "I love you Tom; just not in that way. But if I do decide to turn bi you'll be the first guy I call, okay?"

I couldn't say anything, and Ali burst out laughing, "If you get any redder, Tom, you're probably going to explode!"

Ali stood up and started to clear the dishes. "Come on, help me wash up and then we'll chill and catch up."

The moment broke, and after Ali had washed and I dried, we sat at opposite ends of the big sofa with our legs stretched out towards each other and kind of half tangled. It was the way we had sat as kids, when Ali was my big sister and we would stretch out and watch TV. It felt really comfortable, and comforting. 

"Now," Ali said, "I want to see the work you've brought for tomorrow."

"Oh, I don't know, Al. It's not very good."

"You have brought a portfolio though?"

"Of course."

"Lemme see then, cuz."

I twisted round and found my battered suitcase, bent over the arm of the sofa, unzipped it and pulled out a small folder containing a sample of my work. I turned back and reluctantly handed it to Ali.

She untied it and spread the pages open, cocked her head to one side and started to leaf through my work. She spent a while looking at each piece, stopping on some and taking much longer before moving on. I sat without speaking, waiting.

Finally she closed the folder and tied it back up.

"Am I likely to be laughed off campus?" I asked.


Ali's Art Ch. 01



Ali shook her head. "It's good, Tom. Some of it's naive, it shows your lack of experience, but the talent is there and that's what counts."

"You really think so, Al?" 

She nodded. "You'll walk it."

I smiled, "I hope so. I really want to come here now."

Ali smiled, "Me too, Tom." Then she added, "You've done a lot of faces, the usual arms, feet, hands. But there's no full figures in there. Don't you ever do life drawing?"

"In Denton?" I laughed, "God no!"

"We'll fix that when you get here," Ali said. "Life drawing is my absolute favorite. I just love drawing people."

She got up and walked across to the kitchen and pulled something out of a drawer. When she turned back she had a small joint in her hand.

"You smoke this stuff?" she asked.

"Uh, I have," I said.

"Wanna share one?"

I nodded, "Sure, if you think that's okay."

She came back and sat on the sofa, lit up and pulled smoke deep into her lungs before passing the joint to me. "You're eighteen now, right? I'm sure it was your birthday last summer, yeah?" she said in a tight voice, trying to hold the smoke down.

I drew on the smoke and inhaled deeply. I had tried it when I was fifteen a couple of times, then stopped, but I wasn't going to tell Ali that. I could feel my lungs wanting to cough the smoke up but held it down hard.

I nodded, "August 7th," I said, letting my breath go and taking another pull before handing the joint back to Ali. My head was spinning a bit and I could feel the effects spreading through my limbs.

Ali inhaled deeply and then, when she had held it down for half a minute let it go and said, "You can come out with us tomorrow if you want. We might as well start your education early."

"Thanks," I said.

Ali laughed, "Thank me tomorrow night, if you if you still feel like it," she said, "After you've seen where we're going."

We finished the joint and I started to feel my eyelids droop. Ali watched me and then patted my leg. "I'll let you get your head down, Tom, you look exhausted."

I nodded, "I'm bushed," I said.

"You use the bathroom first," she said, "I'll get ready and go in after."

I pulled my heavy limbs up and went through with my wash bag, brushed my teeth and washed my face. Ali was still in her bedroom, but had laid a pillow and duvet on the sofa so I pulled off my shirt and jeans and snuggled under in my shorts. I had just covered up when Ali came through to use the bathroom. She was dressed for bed as well and had on a small white top and pale blue panties that left a six inch strip of bare flesh between where one stopped and the other started. Ali caught me looking and I glanced away.

She laughed, "It's okay Tom, you can look if you want. I don't mind." Then she added, "I never have, you know."

I just knew I was blushing again.

Ali went into the bathroom and I heard her running the water, the toilet flushing. She came back out and turned off the main lamp, light still falling through from her bedroom. She padded across to the couch and knelt down beside me, leaned over and kissed me on the cheek then rested her forehead against mine. I could smell the soap on her face and the shampoo in her hair.

"Sleep well, Tom. Good luck for the morning."

I was awake before seven and tried to get up quietly, crept into the bathroom and showered. When I came out I put on fresh underwear and pulled on my suit trousers and the blue cotton shirt Mom had so carefully packed. I was standing in the bathroom knotting my tie in front of the mirror when Ali came through, pulling her robe closed around her.

"Morning Tom. Could you give me a minute while I pee?"

"Oh, sure," I said, darting out through the door.

When Ali came out she blinked and looked at me. "God Tom, you can't wear that!" She said.

I looked down. "But Mom made me bring it specially."

"This is an Art college, Tom. Art with a capital A. You'll be interviewed by one of the tutors, and they'll be dressed really badly. Art college is not like other places, the casual look is part of the lifestyle. Put your jeans back on. The shirt's okay, but lose the tie."

"Mom would kill me," I said. "She wanted me to be smart."

"Smart won't work here. And if she ever asks I'll tell her you wore the suit. But I want you to get through this interview, Tom. Jeans, no tie, that leather jacket is great, you'll fit right in."

"Well, if you're sure," I said.

"I know this place, Tom, really, trust me."

"Okay." I grabbed my jeans and went back into the bathroom to change.

I came out and started to pull my sneakers back on.

"What else have you got?" Ali asked.

"Shoes. Black."

"Lemme see."

I tugged the black leather boots out of my suitcase. They were the only black shoes I owned, and were what I wore when I went to rock concerts. High Chelsea boots with zipped sides and pointed toes.

Ali grinned, "Perfect. Wear those. It'll add that little touch of class. Trust me."

"I do," I nodded.

Ali rode the bus with me into the campus, and instead of leaving me to find the interview room on my own insisted on coming with me. When we arrived outside tutor room 307 she grinned and said, "You've got Dave Hunter."

"Is that good?"

"He was my tutor in my second year. Come on, I'll take you in."

"Are you sure? Is that okay?"

"Dave's one of the good guys."

After introducing me, telling Mr. Hunter I was her nephew, and in response to his question if I was as good as her replied, "No, not yet Dave, but he will be," Ali left with a promise to meet me at two o clock outside the main entrance.

She was waiting as I came out into the cold air, and jumped up and down, looking as excited as she used to get when she was eleven. "Well?"

"Well what?"

"How did it go? Are you in?"

"I think it went okay," I said. "They'll let me know in a couple of weeks."

"They always do that," she said, "But what do you think?"

"I liked him. I liked the place. I liked the work everyone was doing."

"How long were you there?" she asked.

"Until now," I said. "We finished up about twenty minutes ago."

Ali jumped up and down again then grabbed me in a tight hug. "God, Tom, that's brilliant! No one ever gets asked to stay that long unless they're getting an offer. Come on, tonight we celebrate."

"Hang on," I said, "I think I'd better wait till they confirm."

"Dork," Ali said, "Of course they will. Come on."

We took the bus back to her apartment and Ali made me a sandwich because I had missed lunch. I had to recount every moment of the morning, and it took almost as long as the real thing. By the time I was finished and she had asked a bunch of questions and I had answered them to her satisfaction, she looked at the clock and said, "Wow, is that the time? Tom, I need to shower before we go out. Are you okay?"

"I showered when I got up."

Ali leaned towards me and sniffed, wrinkled her nose, "Nervous sweat, man. You can shower again after me."

I lifted my arm and sniffed, "Yeah, maybe you're right."

Ali bounced into her bedroom and a couple of minutes later came out in her robe. She closed the bathroom door and I heard the shower start up. I laid back on the sofa and put my feet up, then remembered and unzipped my boots and tugged them off before putting my legs back.

It had been a good day so far.

Ali seemed to be ages in the bathroom, but when she came out she looked stunning. Her hair shone like burnished copper and her skin glowed.

"All yours," she said.

I got up and went in to a room full of fragrant steam. I had been in the shower for five minutes when I heard the door open.

"'Scuse," Ali shouted, "Promise not to look, I forgot my lipstick. Oh my God! Sorry - I looked."

I stood rigid in the shower, face to the wall.

Then Ali said, "God Tom, you have a fabulous body."

"Yeah, sure," I said to the tiles.

"No really, I mean it. You're gorgeous. Almost makes me wish I liked men."

"Only almost?" I joked.

She laughed, "Yeah, only almost," she said, and I heard the door close. 

I relaxed and breathed out, started to rinse myself down and heard the door open again.

"Tom, tomorrow, I want to ask you a big favor. A really big favor."

"Sure, whatever you want," I said, turning away to hide my front.

"I want to draw you," Ali said.

"Sure."

The door closed again. Once more I let my breath out, just as the door opened for a third time.

"In the nude, of course," Ali said, and the door shut and didn't open again.

I turned off the shower and stepped out, toweled dry. I looked down at the obvious sign of my arousal. Oh my God, I thought, Ali might not be turned on my men, but that didn't stop this man getting turned on by her. What the hell was I going to do? I dressed, shaved and went back out.

Ali was sitting on the sofa. She had put on a long dark blue dress with small white patterning on it. The dress buttoned all down the front and was cut low to show her cleavage, falling half way between knee and ankle. She had put her hair up so her long neck was exposed. Her lips were pale mauve, and she had applied eyeliner.

"Wow, Al, you look gorgeous," I said.

"Thank you sir. Shall we go?"

"Uh, yeah, okay." I pulled on my boots and zipped them up. Ali put her arm through mine and led me out into the night, both of us spoiling the effect somewhat by having to pull on our big winter coats.

We walked three blocks south and turned down steps to a door in a basement. Ali pushed it open and went through into warmth.

She greeted the girl behind the coat counter and asked, "Can I sign my friend in?"

"If you want to. He knows what this place is, don't he?"

"Sure," Ali said nonchalantly, signing a book before leading me through to a large room, darkly lit with a small stage at one end, set up with a drum kit and guitars on stands, but no musicians.

"Is this where you hang out?" I asked.

"Usually," Ali said. "You'll be okay with this, Tom, yeah?"

"It's a gay club, right?" I asked.

Ali nodded.

"Guys as well?"

She smiled. "A few, but you'll be safe enough, it's mostly girls and the guys are all cool. I'll let everyone know you don't lean that way."

"Good," I said, and realized I sounded uptight. "Thanks," I added.

"Ali!" A young woman squealed and came across to us, grabbed Ali round the shoulders and reached up to kiss her full on the mouth. The kiss went on for longer than was comfortable for me and I looked away.

"Is this him?" the woman asked.

Ali nodded. "Yes. Tom, meet Maggie, Maggie meet Tom."

I held out my hand, but Maggie just slid inside it and reached up to kiss me too. She was only about five-four and could not lift herself to my face. Instead she reached with her hand and grabbed me round the back of the neck and pulled my face down before kissing me full on the mouth as well. She tasted of cherry lipstick, and I enjoyed the experience.

"Hi Tom. I've been dying to meet you ever since Ali told me you were here. Come on, let's get some drinks."

"Uh," I said, "They might not serve me."

"Oh, they will here," Maggie said.

I looked at Ali and she just shrugged and grinned. Maggie took both our hands and pulled us across to a small bar. A man stood behind it, bleached blond hair and a tight black tank top.

Maggie ordered cocktails for her and Ali and beer for me. I stood looking around the room, trying not to notice the bartender who was looking at me in turn. The room was ninety percent female, for which I was deeply grateful. I had no problem with anyone's sexual orientation, but I would have been apprehensive in a club full of aggressive gay men.

I was a typical heterosexual teenage guy. The idea of two women making love to each other was hot. The same image but with two men acted like a cold shower. To me, anyway. But I was going to try and act in a way that would not embarrass Ali. This was her town, her place, I would fit in as far as I felt comfortable.

We found a table and sat down.

"Ali," Maggie said, "You told me he was good looking, but wow!"

I felt myself blushing. Had Ali really told her friend I was good looking?

"And so sweet!" Maggie squealed at my embarrassment. "God, couldn't you just hug him up and eat him?" They both laughed.

Maggie pumped me for information about my home town, my schooling, what I wanted in life, and I found myself gradually getting to really like her. She was bubbly and a bit silly, but something genuine shone through and I felt she really cared about my answers, and about me.

Where Ali was tall and slim, Maggie was short and about five pounds overweight. She had short curly blonde hair and a great pair of big tits pushed into a too small blouse which showed a lot of cleavage and the top of a red brassiere. I was a bit surprised that she was Ali's girlfriend.

I started to relax, finished my beer and felt confident enough to fetch another round from the bar, even chatting to the barman.

When I returned I started asking Maggie questions, and caught Ali smiling at me across the table, apparently pleased with how I was performing. Before I could find out too much from Maggie, the band walked onto stage and started to play loud bar rock.

At some time just before midnight we poured out of the club and walked back to Ali's place, Maggie still with us.

The sofa was big enough for all three of us. Plenty big enough, as Ali and Maggie curled up at the far end from me with their arms around each other. Ali pulled out another joint and passed it around, and it hit me hard on top of the beer.

I laid my head back on the cushions and watched the two women through lidded eyes. Their arms circled each other's shoulders and their eyes could see only each other. As Ali leaned back after putting out the joint Maggie put her hand on her cheek and pulled her face down to hers.

I watched their kiss turn into something steamy. I would probably have looked away, but in my stoned state I was too fascinated. Their mouths opened and I caught the movement of tongues between lips.

Suddenly Ali sat up, aware I was there. She looked flustered, as though she had completely forgotten my presence. Maggie reached her hand to her face again but Ali held it.

"We shouldn't tease poor Tom," she said, "His hormones are probably going into overdrive as it is."

Maggie turned to look at me. I noticed that a button was undone on her blouse and as she turned the material pulled open to expose a curve of red bra. Her nipples were clearly visible through the thin material.

"We could put a show on for him," Maggie said.

"I don't think so," Ali said, glancing at me and shrugging. "I'm sorry about my girlfriend, Tom, she's just too horny for her own good."

"Can't be no such thing," Maggie said. "Take me to bed then, Al."

Ali looked at me again and I nodded, "S'fine, Al. I'll just bunk down here, I told you I didn't want to get in the way."

If she had been stone sober I think Ali would have persuaded Maggie to leave, but she wasn't, and I guess she was horny too, so she just nodded back and led Maggie by the hand through to the bedroom.

I waited a moment then got up to pee, turned off the lights, undressed and lay on the sofa, pulling the duvet up over me. I reached down and put my hand on my cock through my shorts. It had filled and grown heavy, not quite fully erect but it was on the way there. I considered making myself cum, and then dismissed it, not wanting to explain where the stains on the duvet had come from.

I turned on my side and closed my eyes and tried to sleep.

I almost thought I was succeeding until I heard a cry come through the bedroom door.

"Oh God yes, do that, do that again!"

Then a loud, "Shhh!"

There was a murmur, and then more silence for five minutes. Gradually small sounds began to creep out again. A creak of bedsprings. The sound mouths make when they are kissing hard. A louder groan. I rolled over to my other side and pulled the pillow up over my ears. 

Finally things went quiet. I started to doze again until light hit my eyes as the bedroom door opened. I peeked across as Maggie stepped naked through the door, for a moment completely visible to me. 

Her breasts were enormous, at least 36D, her hips wide and her pubic area completely shaved. She tiptoed across to the bathroom and went inside. I heard her pee and then flush. She tiptoed back and I saw her round ass cheeks in the light as she went back, and heard her call out, "Gnight Tom," and giggle.

I finally dropped off to sleep some time after two, and slept until nine Saturday morning when Maggie crept out through the room and left the apartment. The clouds had cleared and sunlight glowed against the curtains. I got up, pulled on just my jeans and padded around the tiny living room looking at the books on Art and drawings piled on all the surfaces. Ali made a noise in her bedroom and then came out pulling a robe closed around her.

"Morning bub," she said, "''Scuse me but I've gotta pee." She trotted into the bathroom and closed the door.

I continued to browse and started looking through a stack of art pads. I decided to start from the bottom one as I assumed that was the oldest, so I could see Ali's development. Even this one was way better than anything I had done, and I wondered if I was really good enough to follow her. I finished skimming the last one and then saw another tucked back beneath a pile of papers.

"No!" Ali said from behind me, "that one's kind of private."

I stopped with my hand on the book, "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

"It's okay," she said, "it's just that's a bit different to the others."

I was intrigued now, and before she could reach across I flipped it open.

"Oh," I said.

"I told you not to!" Ali said.

I was looking at a drawing of a young woman, naked apart from a pair of white stockings, lying on her back on a couch. Her hand cupped her mound and a finger was pushed inside her pussy.

"Um, sorry, Al, " I said, closing the book. "I didn't realize..."

"Oh fuck, what the hell!" she said. "That's how I work my way through college."

"What, by posing for-" I was shocked.

"No, you dick!" she said, "By drawing like that. I can make $10 for a sketch like that, more for some of them. I sold one for $50 once."

"Wow. So how many have you done?" My shock was merging into fascination now.

"Hundreds," she said. "I cut the pages out and mount them in a frame and sell them over the internet."

"And there's a market for these?"

"I think there are a lot of people who find drawings more erotic than photographs. Certainly more erotic than porn. " Alison said.

"But I mean, this is kind of porn, isn't it?"

"Not really. Or at least, I don't think of it that way. Drawings, even explicit ones, are more subtle, they leave more to the imagination." 

She took the drawing pad from me and closed it. "If you're good I might let you see some more. But I need to think about it, okay?"

"Okay," I nodded.

"Come on," she said, "I'm going to buy you breakfast and then we're going for a walk through the snow."

As we walked out onto the street something occurred to me and I said, "Al - why do you need money for college? Your Dad's loaded, isn't he?"

Her mouth formed a thin line and she said, "I don't want anything from that fucker!"

"Al?" I knew she never really got on with her Dad, but this outburst surprised me.

She shook her head and forced a smile. "Forget it, Tom. I can get by on my own, I don't need anything from him."

We came back to the flat in mid-afternoon, our faces bright red from the cold, and Ali turned up the heating and made coffee.

"Are you hungry?" she asked.

I shook my head, "I'm fine. I should be but I feel okay. Coffee'd be good though."

After the ritual of grinding beans and percolating Ali sat back in the corner of the sofa and sipped from her mug, looking at me. We had taken off our big coats and I was starting to sweat even in my tee shirt from the sudden warmth in the small room.




Ali's Art Ch. 01



I was still fascinated by her erotic drawings and asked if she had many more. 

She nodded, "Yeah, a few."

"All women?" I asked.

"Draw what you know, I guess," she laughed. "I don't really get to meet many men, as you can imagine."

"But you could, like, make something up?"

"I can only draw from life. And I have drawn male nudes, we do them all the time in classes, but if they ever so much as get even a tiny boner they're sacked. So it's women only. Though I know there's a bigger market for male drawings."

"There is?"

"Oh yeah, the gay and straight market is huge. And I could get more money too. But I'm happy with what I've got. Unless..." she stopped and looked away.

I drank my coffee for a while, then said, "Last night you said you wanted to draw me. Did you mean like that?"

"I think I was a bit over-excited, you being here and everything. And of course, when I saw your butt..."

"So you didn't mean it," I said.

"Well... if you'd let me, I would like to. But would you be comfortable with that? You know, taking everything off and posing for me?"

I shrugged, "I don't know... but I'll try it if you want."

"You sure?" She looked at me over the top of her mug.

"How would we...?" I spread my arms.

"You could undress in the bathroom and then come out here. Wear a towel if you want. I'll tell you where I want you to go. But Tom, only if you're really sure about this. I don't want to pressure you."

I shrugged again, "Let's say it's rent for my stay here, yeah?" I got up and went through to the bathroom before I could change my mind. I pulled my tee shirt off, peeled down my jeans and then after a brief hesitation slid down my shorts. I looked down and sighed thankfully that I wasn't too hard. I had been worried I might embarrass myself, but though I wasn't completely flaccid I thought could get away with it being more or less normal. I hoped.

I wrapped one of the big white towels around my waist and went out.

Ali had moved the tripod and camera closer to the sofa, and piled all of the loose cushions up at one end.

She looked at me and smiled, "I only got a glimpse yesterday, but I wasn't wrong. You're seriously hunky, Tom, d'you know that? I don't ever remember you having muscles like this before."

"I guess it's all the landscaping work," I said. "I used to be pretty skinny, but I've bulked up this last half year."

"You sure have," Ali said, "And it's good bulk. You see guys with pumped muscles and they look awful. You've got muscle but just the right amount, and you're lean. And you have fantastic legs - that's unusual in a man."

I shrugged, embarrassed at the compliment. "What shall I do then?" I asked.

"Okay," Ali spoke in a matter of fact tone, and I wondered if she was trying to make this seem normal for me. "Take off the towel and sit against the cushions."

I tugged at the towel and let it drop, noticed that Ali's eyes dropped and then came quickly back up. I sat on the sofa and wriggled back, "Like this?"

"A bit lower. I want your one leg stretched out in front of you... yeah, like that. Now, the other one along the sofa so your legs are apart... a bit more, yeah, like that." She studied me, her eyes cooler now, scanning from my face down to my feet and back up.

"Put your right arm along the back of the sofa... yeah, great... And the other arm... put that down along your thigh... no, palm flat, over a bit... a bit more... good."

She stood for a moment studying me, then knelt and adjusted the camera. When she stood again she had a remote in her hand and clicked off two shots.

"Just in case I mess anything up, I always like a record. We can get the pose back again too if you need a break at any time."

"How long will this take?" I asked.

"Only about an hour, usually. I'll improve it afterwards, but the first sitting won't be too long. Now, just relax."

I tried to do as she said, but couldn't help wondering what she had meant by 'the first sitting.'

Ali took her sketch pad and folded down onto the floor, pulling her legs into a perfect lotus. She looked up, drew a faint line, looked up again.

For ten minutes she became more and more immersed in her drawing, her eyes constantly darting up to me and then back down.

It was at about fifteen minutes that I felt disaster begin to loom.

I had been drifting, thinking about how good it would be to come here to college and see more of Ali. Then I thought about really seeing more of Ali, and stopped looking at the wall and looked at her instead. She was completely unaware of my gaze. She was still sitting with her legs crossed, her long thighs wide and encased in blue jeans. She had on a denim shirt with pop studs instead of buttons. The top four were open and I had a view of her cleavage and a narrow white bra strap where the neckline had pulled aside.

That was when I became aware of a fullness in my cock and the sensation of it lengthening along my thigh.

Ali continued drawing for a while, then when next she looked up I saw her pencil stop and she just stared at my cock as it expanded along my thigh. My uncircumcised glans was starting to slowly emerge as the foreskin drew back.

I watched Ali watching me, still not drawing, then I glanced down to see my cock twitch. I involuntarily moved slightly and it slid along my thigh, rising up so that it stood away from my leg.

"Sorry," I said.

Ali glanced up at me, and her color was high. "No, it's okay."

"You'll have to sack me," I said and gave an embarrassed laugh. "You said that's what happens if the model gets excited."

She laughed gently, then said "Tom, can I draw you like that?" And then, "Does it get any bigger?"

I looked down. "Oh yeah, it does."

"Wow," she said. "I've never seen a hard dick before. It's..." she gazed, searching for words. "It's beautiful."

I was aware I was becoming extremely erect, and my cock swung up and raised itself to lie flat along my stomach, the mushroom head extending above my navel. I was almost fully hard now, and it felt different.

"I'm sorry," I said, "I'd better get dressed," and I started to sit up.

"No," Ali held her hand up, "Don't you dare. I want to draw you, just like that." She stopped suddenly and looked up at my face. "Is that alright Tom? Can I draw you like this?"

"I don't know, Al, it feels a bit... weird, you know?"

"Tom, there is nothing wrong or weird about feeling sexy. Nothing at all."

"But like this, in front of my cousin?"

"I don't mind, Tom, I really don't. Not if you're okay with it."

I wasn't sure what to say. I was not altogether alright with displaying myself in this state, but it was incredibly arousing to be this hard in front of Ali, the girl I had fantasized about so often.

Ali looked down at me again. She tore off the drawing she had been working on and began to sketch rapidly.

"How long will it stay hard, Tom?"

"I don't know," I said. "Might be a couple of minutes, might be an hour. Depends."

"Depends?" she said.

"Yeah... on how excited I am."

"And are you excited?" she said, still drawing.

"Yeah, I guess I am. Sorry Ali, but it still feels wrong to be as hard as this in front of you..."

"It's my fault," Ali said. "I shouldn't have allowed Maggie to kiss me like that in front of you last night. I knew it might make you feel like this, but I kind of wanted to anyway. It's me needs to apologize."

"Maybe it was that," I said, hoping she would believe me and not think it was her doing this.

Ali laughed as she continued to draw. "I hear it's supposed to be one of the archetypal male fantasies, watching two girls fucking?"

I nodded. "I've heard that too," I said, then, "Al, when did you first know you were gay?" I was a question I had wanted to ask since she had told me she was, but there had never been an opportunity before.

She looked up at me, looked down at my cock. "When did you first know you were straight?"

"That's not the same, is it?"

"Of course it is. Maybe a better question would be: When did you first know you liked girls? I think it's pretty obvious you do like girls, yeah?" She smiled and nodded at my erection.

"When I was... about twelve, I guess. When you start looking at them as something not annoying any more, start looking at them as something else..."

Ali nodded, still sketching, working fast. "Same for me too. Except in my case it wasn't boys but the other girls."

"Isn't that difficult?" I asked. "I mean, you share the showers together, you spend more time around them, wasn't that difficult?"

"Incredibly. And also because it's accepted behaviour. You wouldn't believe how hard I tried to hide my feelings. You remember all those letters I used to send you?"

I nodded.

"They were to girls I thought I was in love with."

"What did they do when they got them?" I asked.

Ali laughed. "I never sent a one. Not a fucking one. It was all just unrequited love - or unrequited lust."

"So when did you..."

"When did I what?" She looked up at me, a smile playing on her lips.

"You know what I mean," I said.

"Not till I came here," she said. "The atmosphere was different, New York was different. I didn't feel a freak anymore, and I went a bit wild."

"Yeah? Like how?"

Ali laughed. "You'd like that, if I told you all about losing my cherry, wouldn't you? I think I've worked you up enough as it is. I'll save that for when I'm very drunk, if at all."

Ali finished her first sketch and tore it off, started on another.

"Tom... would you, uh, would you mind holding it?"

"What?"

"Would you put your hand around it, like you're masturbating? I want to draw you like that. Is that okay?"

I felt half mesmerized now, and closed my hand around the middle of my cock. Almost two inches extended above and below my fist. Ali sketched, then twisted and picked up the camera, took a couple of quick shots.

"Rub it up and down a bit, I want to see what that looks like."

I started to stroke myself slowly from base to head. The camera snicked as Ali captured me.

I looked down and saw a large bead of clear fluid form in the vertical slit at the center of my cock, grow and drip down, leaving a small pool on my stomach and a trail back to the head of my cock.

Ali gasped. "God, Tom, did you cum just then?"

Despite my arousal I laughed. "No, Al, that wasn't cumming."

"Oh. I thought, you know..."

I realized she had never seen a man ejaculate, and wouldn't know what it looked like.

"It's a different color when I cum," I said, "It's white, and there's a lot more of it, and it spurts out a lot further than that."

"Oh," Ali said softly.

I decided I might as well give go on. I pretended it was for Ali's benefit, to give her a lesson in male emissions, but really it was because it aroused me to talk to her like this. 

"That was what's called pre-cum. It's clear, and it forms constantly once I start to get excited. It will keep pushing out like that until I really do cum."

Ali nodded, still watching, and I realized I was still rubbing myself and stopped. "Uh, is that enough?" I said.

She started and looked up at me. I could see that her neck and chest had colored. "You can carry on if you want. It's okay with me if you do."

"I shouldn't be doing this," I said, starting to sit up. "It's not right, Al."

"Tom, I'm sorry. It's my fault. Getting you all worked up. I really am sorry... but you need to cum, don't you?"

I shook my head, "I'm okay, Al, honestly."

"You can go in the bathroom and, you know, do it there if you want. I'm okay with that if you need to."

I smiled. "That would be really weird, Al. I couldn't do that, not knowing you'd be out here knowing what I was doing."

"Oh," she said, "I didn't think..."

"S'okay."

"If you want to cum then, you can do it where you are... And if you'd let me, I'd like to watch. I've never seen a man cum. I could take some pictures, do some sketches..." she trailed off, perhaps realizing she was talking too much.

"I think that might feel even weirder," I said, but as I spoke I had gripped my shaft again and started the long stoke up and down.

"I told you, Tom, nothing is wrong. If it feels good, and no-one minds, then nothing is wrong. Would you like to cum in front of me?" she added in a small voice.

My stroking continued, and I looked down at her watching me. "Do you really want me to?" I whispered.

She nodded. That was all it took.

I continued stroking and leaned back, allowing the ache to grow all along the center of my cock and down through my balls.

Ali sat back on her heels and raised the camera, shooting more pictures.

More fluid beaded from me and I lifted a finger and spread it over the engorged head, heard the shutter go click-click-click.

I continued to rub for maybe three more minutes. I could feel the pressure growing at the root of my cock, and performed this trick I had always had and tugged a muscle somewhere inside, and the pressure peaked and then faded, leaving just a wonderful warmth spreading outward from my balls.

"It's talking so long, Tom," Ali said. "Is it always like this for men?"

I laughed softly. "No. I think most men would have cum by now. But I've got this something I can do. I could rub myself like this for thirty minutes and not cum."

"God Tom, that's really..." she shook her head, her wild russet curls flying around her face, "Impressive?" she finished. After a moment she said, "But I want to see you cum Tom. Think about something sexy. Think about what Maggie was doing to me last night if you want. That's supposed to turn men on, isn't it?"

"Yeah," I said.

"D'you want me to tell you about it, what she did to me?"

I shook my head. I did, I did so much, but it felt like an invasion of privacy. Instead I quickened my stroke, wondered about letting myself go, but something was holding me back; the situation, Ali's closeness and her observation of the act. Another three minutes passed and then Ali put the camera down beside her and pulled her shirt so all the studs popped. The shirt fell open, revealing her perfect breasts cupped inside a semi-transparent lace bra. I could clearly see the large dark aureole and at their center her pink nipples pushing up against the material.

"Does that help?" she said softly.

I gazed in awe. Her skin was milky white and smooth. The rising swell of her breasts pushed up against the material, resting heavily inside the cups. Faint blue shadows ran beneath her skin where veins lay.

Ali took her left hand and cupped it beneath her right breast, stroked it slowly up along the curve and then slid her fingers down inside the material and over her nipple.

That'll do it, I thought, and allowed the pressure in my balls to rise.

"Now?" Ali asked softly.

I nodded and grunted. "Now..."

I had a moment of panic at the thought of what was about to happen and tried to pull down again, but it was too late and I threw my head back as the first spasm erupted along the inside of my cock and a hot rope of semen jetted hard from the head. It arced up, high above me, and splashed down across my shoulder, most of it hitting the back of the sofa.

I was only partly aware of the constant snick-snick-snick as Ali kept her finger hard down on the camera shutter.

A second spasm shot along my length and I squirted a long jet across my chest and stomach. My hand rubbed frantically and I pushed my hips up off the sofa as a third jet emerged and followed the others.

I could feel the pressure easing now, and slowed my stroke, looked down as a final smaller spurt followed the others and covered the back of my hand.

The camera continued snicking, and then Ali released her finger.

"Fucking hell!" she said. "Tom, that was incredible. Was that as powerful for you as it looked?"

I nodded weakly, coming down from the high now, "It was."

I was starting to feel guilty too, aware of what had just happened. Cursing myself. If this screwed up my friendship with Ali I would regret it for the rest of my life. 

I felt the cooling semen start to trail down my side and said quickly, "Ali, the towel, I'm going to drip on your sofa."

Ali started from her daze and tossed me the towel. I laid it flat over me and started to pat myself clean.

"I think I might take a shower," I said.

"Good idea," Ali said. I couldn't work out what the emotion in her voice was, and feared I'd ruined everything.

I got up and walked to the bathroom. As I reached the door I heard the snick as Ali took more shots. I glanced back.

"Sorry," she smiled, "Your ass just looked so fucking sexy as you walked over there I couldn't help myself."

"But you don't like men's asses," I said.

"A thing of beauty can always be admired, Tom. And that ass is certainly a thing of beauty."

"Fuck off," I laughed.

"Hungry?" Ali asked, and I realized I was starving

I nodded.

"I'll order in. Chinese okay?"

"Chinese sounds good," I said, and closed the bathroom door behind me.

I washed my hair and soaped myself all over, studying Ali's things on the shelves in the shower. Girl shampoo and conditioner (I tried both), a coarse piece of pumice stone, a large real sponge, two pink ladyshave razors.

I stayed under the water for a quarter hour, letting water run down over my body, hoping it might wash away some of the feelings rolling around inside me. Guilt, excitement, fear, back to guilt. It was mostly guilt, I guess.

Finally I stepped out and towelled dry. I opened the mirrored cabinet to find my shaving gear, deciding to waste some more time, and looked in at the perfume, lipsticks, packs of tampons, a range of odd looking little steel implements that must have had some feminine purpose I couldn't fathom.

I heard a knock at the door and muffled conversation as the food arrived.

Finally, I couldn't put it off any longer, so I pulled my jeans and tee shirt back on and stepped barefoot back into the tiny living room.

If Ali shared any of my confusion she didn't show it. She was sitting at the small desk, the Mac booted up, eating Chinese from a box with chopsticks.

"Tuck in," she said, "I'm just loading the photos." She patted the air beside her. "Pull up a seat and come see."

I dragged a kitchen chair over and sat across it, leaning on the back. 

One by one the photographs appeared on the screen as small thumbnails. They filled the screen and then scrolled down. There looked to be about a hundred or more and I could see that the majority had caught me in my moment of ecstasy. I couldn't see any detail yet, but just the tiny images scrolling up made my stomach flutter. What the hell had I been thinking?

Finally they were all loaded, and Ali skipped the image I had taken of her and double clicked on the first one of me. It showed me at the start, penis flaccid and lying down inside my thigh.

I turned and went across to where Ali had placed the pages she had drawn, picked them up and went back to the chair. I compared the picture with what she had drawn.

"Yours is much better," I said, showing it to her.

She glanced at it, back at the monitor. "Of course," she said, no trace of boasting or pride in her voice. "I said that to you this morning. A drawing is always so much more than a photograph. A drawing captures the real image, the soul of a person."

She pulled open a drawer in the desk and pulled out a sheet of thin tracing paper.

"I use them like this," she said, laying the paper over the monitor and rapidly sketching around the outline which shone through. "Then I transfer this to an art pad and fill in the detail."

She dropped the tracing sheet and scrolled across and I saw the shot I had taken of her, put my hand on top of hers and said, "Let me see that one."

She double clicked and her photograph appeared. I studied it. She looked stunning, naturally beautiful. I thought I had captured her pretty well, but Ali said, "I never think that's how I look," and moved on.




Ali's Art Ch. 01



I tried to negotiate some of the chicken out of a carton with the chopsticks and failed dismally.

"There's a fork in the kitchen, Tom," Ali said.

I got up and found one, came back.

Ali had reached the point where my erection had started. She was pausing on each shot, studying it for a moment and deleting any that did not come up to her standard. She reached the more explicit section, and then the ones where I had cum.

There were about fifty of these, captured every one-fifteenth of a second. Some were blurred and these went to the trash can. Some showed nothing other than my arched back and grimaced face.

"Le petit mort," Ali whispered.

"What?"

"It's French, for what it feels like when you cum. The little death."

I looked at my twisted face. "Yeah," I said. 

At the end of her culling there were a dozen clear shots of me in various stages of ejaculation. She had caught my first full expulsion and a white arc ran from the top of my cock up, over and down to the back of the sofa.

In another she had caught just the first millisecond as it emerged from the head of my cock, twisting as though forced out under great pressure.

The last one showed me slumped back, trails of semen shining on my neck, chest and stomach.

"I want to draw these, Tom. Would you mind?"

"Why?"

"I want to. And there's another reason, but I'll tell you that some other time. Can I?"

I shrugged. It was too late now, anyway, the deed was done. "I guess."

She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. "Thanks. I think I'll grab a shower as well then. Leave the food and I'll tidy up when I come out." She got up and walked the few paces across the small room, closing the bathroom door behind her.

I sighed and fumbled some more chicken and noodles into my mouth, then shuffled closer to the keyboard and scrolled back to the picture of Ali. I pulled out another sheet of the thin paper and placed it over the monitor, talking a lot longer to trace the outline than Ali had.

Finally I found my sketch pad and transferred the image to it, leaving a very fine line where the pencil had transferred. I turned the chair so I could work at the desk, pulled out a 4b pencil and started to fill in the outline, then the detail of her face. I was so immersed in my work I didn't hear the bathroom door open and only noticed when Ali sat beside me and leaned across to see what I was doing.

I was suddenly acutely aware of her unconfined breast pressing against my arm. She had not dressed again after showering, and now wore only her thin satin robe.

"That's good, Tom." She held her hand out, "Can I?"

I handed the pad to her.

She held it on her lap, studying it for minutes, then said, "Can I?" again and put her hand flat.

I gave her the pencil.

"This is really good, but you need to add more shade. Light and shade, that's what makes the difference. Here," she twisted to hold my drawing up to the monitor and my gaze was drawn to her long smooth legs as the robe lifted and displayed her thighs.

"Look, there's shade here and here you've missed." She took a softer pencil and drew a heavy line then spread it with her finger, a quick sure motion, adding definition to the cheekbone. "I've always been told my cheeks are a good feature. Now you can see them."

I leaned across and looked. She had instantly made the drawing ten times better.

She handed the pad back to me. "Now you do that."

I looked at the screen, at my drawing, and then tried to repeat what she had done, this time along the side of her nose. When I had finished I could see immediately it was better, but nowhere near as good as Ali's addition.

She laughed at my muttering. "That's why you're coming here, Tom, so you can learn all these techniques. But this," she tapped the page, "this is better than anything I had ever done before I came here."

I think I almost blushed. "Thanks, Al."

She got up and tidied the empty food cartons away, opened a bottle of wine and brought me a glass across, also brought a joint and lit it, held it out to me with a raised eyebrow.

"Ali, I'm sorry... about before," I said, taking the joint.

"What about before?"

"I feel really bad now for doing that in front of you. I wouldn't want you to think..." I trailed off.

Ali put her hand on the back of mine. "Tom. I asked you to do that. You have absolutely nothing, nothing at all to feel bad about. The only thing you did was give me the pleasure of watching you. Everyone does what you did."

"But I got carried away," I said.

"Good. I wanted to watch you get carried away, because I've never seen that, and I was curious, and I feel I'm closer to you than ever, and if you couldn't show me that then who could?" She smiled at me and I felt my heart skip a beat.

"Are you sure, Al?"

"Of course. And if you ever pose for me again, and get excited, I'm going to expect a repeat performance."

I blew out my cheeks and shook my head. "Wow..."

"Now," she said, and got up. She walked to the sofa and I saw her hands move around to her front and suddenly the satin robe dropped from her shoulders and pooled around her feet. She took another step, the perfect round cheeks of her butt flexing and relaxing. Her long smooth legs were pale and clean. 

She looked back at me. "Would you like to draw me now?"

I swallowed hard and found I couldn't say anything.

She turned side on to me and for the first time I saw the magnificence of her naked breasts. They were full beneath, curving up from her flat stomach to sharp peaks tipped by her nipples then tapering away above. She turned again this time to face me and my gaze drifted down over the flat sweep of her slim stomach, the long vertical defile of her navel, the flare of her hips, to the junction of her thighs where a cleanly shaved pussy nestled.

"Wow," I said. "Do all lesbians shave down there?" And then realized what I had said.

"All lesbians?" she said, frowning, and then burst out laughing, causing her breasts to jiggle, her nipples tracing circles in the air. "Maggie told me she gave you an eyeful last night."

"Well..." I said. "It's just... Maggie shaves and now I see you do, I just wondered..."

"Do all dykes shave?" she said, smiling. "No, not all of us. But I do and, as you observed, so does Maggie."

"Does it... is it... why?"

She laughed again. "Because it's nice. It makes me feel sexy, and it makes me more sensitive. Okay? Are you going to gape all night then or are you going to draw me?"

I stood up and grabbed my sketchbook. "How do you want to..."

"You direct me," she said. "I am the model, you are the artist. You must view me as a piece of work, a tool of the trade. Think of what you want to draw, and place me as you want." She stood waiting, feet slightly apart, back straight, hands resting on her thighs.

I took a deep breath and walked over to her, staring, walked around, taking in every inch of her wonderful body. If I was going to be able to draw anything I needed to turn off the feelings raging through me and try to view Ali as an object. But I had no idea how to do that.

I went for a chair and placed it in front of her. "Sit on that," I said. She did.

"Lean forward a little, hand on your knee, yes, like that." I studied her for a moment as she watched me, smiling. "Straighten you back. Now lean forward a little more, as though you're looking at something over here. Yes, that's it."

She held the position, glanced my way. I nodded.

I took the other chair and sat two yards away, studying her figure displayed in front of me, and began to sketch. I had to work slowly, and the results were not impressive, but Ali was patient. I saw her ease her weight from cheek to cheek a couple of times, but by then I was in the zone and transferring what sat in front of me to the page.

Finally I straightened up and eased by aching back.

"Can I see?" Ali asked, getting up and rubbing her ass hard with her hands, getting circulation back. Her breasts bounced up and down and I was suddenly very aware of her as a woman again. She stepped across and took my sketchpad, stood in front of me as she studied it and I in turn gazed at her beautiful naked pussy just a foot in front of me.

After a minute Ali stepped back and dropped back on to the sofa, still studying the sketch. I picked up her robe and dropped it across her lap, covering her pussy from my sight. It made it a little easier, but those fucking tits were still there.

"Well..?" I asked.

"Good," she said. "Really very good. You have promise, Tom." She handed the sketchpad back and leaned against the cushions. "Fire up that joint, Tom, I'm still stiff from posing." She stretched her legs out far in front of her and put her hands above her head, the movement dislodging her robe, and it slid off her lap and pooled onto the floor.

I got up and brought the joint back, lit it, took a pull and handed it to her. 

"Thanks." She dragged hard and I saw her shoulders instantly relax. "That's better." She took two more long draws and passed it back.

"Shall I get your robe, Al?"

She looked down, as though only now realizing she was still naked, then grinned, "Fuck it," she said, "this feels good. Are you okay with this, Tom? I'm not disturbing you sitting like this, am I?"

"Oh no, not at all, it's fine Al, not disturbing me at all."

She laughed and stretched again. "Okay then - I am disturbing you, but do you really want me to cover up? Because I thought I'd finish up with a treat for you," she said. 

"Oh yeah?"

"You let me watch you masturbate. How about I do the same for you?"

My mouth dropped open. "Al?"

She laughed. "Your face, Tom! God. I guess that's yes then, is it?"

I tried to draw in a breath, shook my head, and then just nodded.

"Mmm, good," she said and took the joint back from me. "I'm feeling all warm and horny, and I'd only have to do it on my own in my bedroom, and as you did it in front of me, I want to do it in front of you too." She drew three more big hits on the joint and put it out. "Sit over there, on the beanbag. I don't want you too close."

I looked around and saw the old blue beanbag against the wall by the desk. I got up and walked over, sank down into it.

Ali pointed her toes and pushed her legs out across the carpet. She lifted one hand to her breast and looked down at it as she ran her fingertip around her nipple. It crinkled and began to grow. She nipped it between finger and thumb and rolled it and it grew bigger. She put her hand below her breasts and massaged their heavy mass.

Her other hand began to slide down her stomach, hesitating below her navel and then continuing. She cupped her naked sex in her palm and let out a long sigh. I could see her eyelids lower and a smile form on her lips.

She opened her palm and placed two fingers, one either side of her full lips and stroked herself from thigh to clitoris, added a third finger and repeated the action with it running along the central slit between her thighs. She applied pressure and her middle finger parted her lips and I saw that as she stroked herself it became damp with her juices.

Her other hand stroked her breast, pulled at a nipple, strayed to her stomach and ran across her skin, back to her breasts and her neck.

She lifted the hand from her pussy and raised it to her mouth, pushed the three fingers deep into her mouth, coating them with saliva, then transferred it back down, sliding further inside herself. Even from across the room I could smell her sex.

Her nipples were now rock hard and stood a full inch out from the soft pink areole. I could see her large clitoris pushing through the lips of her labia and standing erect to where her fingers spread the increasing juice from inside her all over it. She started to work herself seriously, inserting two fingers inside, her thumb rubbing her clitoris.

Color had risen to her chest and neck and her breathing was become faster and shallower.

"Ali," I said, "Tell me what it feels like."

"Oh Tom, it feels wonderful. There's a warmth, a fire that's sitting just here," and she placed the flat of one hand between her navel and her pussy. "And when I do this," and she pushed her hips upwards and slid her fingers deep inside," it grows and spreads, and then..." she stopped, breathing hard, "then it feel heavy inside me, heavy and it tickles and hurts but doesn't hurt and I feel like I'm going to pee but I know I'm not and..." She opened her eyes suddenly and stared across the room at me. "And Tom, talking to you, telling you, makes it all feel so much more intense," she whispered, awe in her voice.

"Are you close, Ali?"

"Close," she murmured, "Oh, so close..."

Her fingers began to work in a fast rhythm. "Feels good," she said, "Feel close... feels... uhn... feels... oh fuck!" She cried out loudly and pushed all three fingers inside herself, bucking her hips to meet them. The muscles in her lean stomach tightened and she curled up onto herself, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. She clutched her hand against her sex and her hips vibrated as they drove up and down in small movements and she continued to pump her fingers in between the soaking walls of her pussy.

Slowly she began to uncurl, keeping her hand over herself then opening her eyes, staring directly into mine and deliberately opening her fingers to display the wet inner folds of her labia to me. She was still breathing quickly, and I sat mesmerized, watching as she recovered from the passion that had consumed her, saw her relax and draw her hand up, tracing slowly over her stomach which trembled at the touch, tracing the weight of her breasts and then cupping them.

"Whoo," I said.

"Fucking whoo indeed," Ali said. "I haven't come like that in a long, long time. Thanks Tom."

"You did all the work." I laughed.

"I think you know that's not true, Tom. I got so horny watching what you did, that made the difference."

I shook my head, "This isn't a bit weird, is it, Al?"

She laughed. "Oh yeah, it's a bit weird. But that's what makes it fun, Tom! Ohhh," she wriggled her whole body rapidly. "That felt so damn good!" 

She sat up and grabbed her robe from the floor, stood up and pulled it on, closed it over her stunning body and tied the cord.

"More dope," she said, and walked across to the kitchen.

"You sure?" I said.

She nodded. "I feel so relaxed now, so good, I want to just space out with you for a while. Chill out. I've only got you till the morning, Tom. God, I'm going to miss you when you've gone."

"I'll be back," I said, in my crappy Terminator accent.

Ali came back and we smoked the joint and talked about things from years back, things from years in the future we wanted to do. It was after midnight when she got up, brushed her teeth, kissed me lightly on the lips and said "Goodnight Tom".

I washed and undressed then lay on the sofa thinking.

I was beginning to drift when Ali's door opened and I looked up to see her standing in the soft light spilling from her bedside lamp.

"Tom?"

"Yes Al?"

"If you want, you know, if you'll be more comfortable, you can sleep in here with me..."

I stared at her. "Thanks, Al... but I'm okay here."

"Okay then," she said, and I heard the smile in her voice. "'Night then."

"'Night." 

The door closed.

What had I just turned down, I wondered? And why? It was a long, long hour until I managed to sleep.

Morning light hit my eyes suddenly as Ali pulled open the drapes and sun flooded the room. She moved around the kitchen dressed in her short robe, making toast, cooking eggs.

I sat up and pulled the duvet around me, looked for my jeans and then wondered why, after yesterday, I was feeling shy. I steeled myself and got up in just my shorts.

"Morning toy boy," Ali said, laughing. "Sleep well?"

"Eventually."

"Yeah, me too," she said wistfully, putting plates down on the table, filling two mugs with coffee. "Come and eat."

I went over and sat across the small table from her, touched her bare feet with my toes and jerked them back, "Sorry."

"No need," she said, and deliberately placed the warm soles of her feet over the top of mine. I remembered she used to do that when we were kids and I had taken great comfort in it back then.

I started eating my eggs, buttered some toast and crunched into it.

"Thanks, Tom," Ali said.

"What for?"

"Last night. Turning me down."

I looked at her. "It wasn't easy," I said.

She nodded. "I know. And that's why I'm thanking you. I don't know what came over me. I'm not even into men, but if you had come to my bed I think I'd have let you fuck me."

I nodded.

"And I would have wanted you to. In a way, I still do. But it would change everything."

I nodded again.

"I like my life, Tom. I don't want it to change. And you being my friend is a big part of that. Bigger this morning than it was two days ago. I think you knew all of that and you were stronger than me. So thanks." Her voice caught in her throat and she got up quickly and came around to my chair, pulled me tight in against her warm breasts, cradling my head, then she lifted my face and kissed me softly on the lips.

"We'll always be best friends, Al," I said, and found my voice catching too.

Ali's eyes were damp. "I know," she said, and smiled.

We finished our breakfast, and too soon it was time for me to catch my bus home. Ali walked me back to the bus station, hugged me tightly again, kissed me once more on the mouth and then stepped away, wiping at her eyes. "Cold, huh?" she said.

"Cold," I said. 

"See you next year," she said.

"Hopefully," I said.

She shook her head. "No. See you next year."

The bus carried me away, back past the piled snow, back to the freeway and the long, long drive south.



Ali's Art Ch. 02



I wanted to call Ali every night the first week I got back from New York but made myself ignore the need. My weekend had been unbelievable, and I kept replaying it in my head. I suspected it would not have meant as much to Ali herself, and I didn't want to be the annoying younger cousin. She might only be a couple of years older than me, but seemed so much more mature and sophisticated.

I still wanted to call her all through the second week, but by the third I began to realize it had been a pleasant interlude and to accept it as such. I threw myself into work and let the ache in my muscles distract me. It was winter, and the landscaping had been put on hold. Now Dag and his crew worked indoors most of the time, turning their hands to anything practical. I fitted showers, kitchens, waste disposal, new boilers, rewired an old house, replaced tiles and siding, fixed shutters, something different almost every day.

On the second Monday of January 2005 there was a letter waiting for me at my breakfast place. Mom sat across from me and Sarah, my eight year old sister, jiggled impatiently in her chair.

I sat down and took a sip of coffee, picked the envelope up, turned it over to read the embossed School of Art stamp, ran my fingers over the raised paper.

"For goodness sake, Tom, open it," Mom said, grinning.

I took my breakfast knife and sliced through the top, slid out the typed letter inside, spread it open. I read the words once, then again to be sure.

"Tom!" Mom said.

"I'm in," I replied.

Sarah squealed and Mom came around and hugged me so tight I could hardly breathe, my head pressed deep into her soft cleavage.

"Call Alison," Mom said when she released me.

"Tonight," I said, "I'll be late for work. Dag'll be outside in a minute."

"Don't forget then."

I smiled at my pretty mother and shook my head, "I won't."

I worked even harder that day. It was outside work, some overgrown trees that needed cutting back, logs cut and stacked ready for burning. I sweated copiously even in the cold winter air. When I got home I showered and came downstairs in an old pair of track bottoms and a faded tee shirt. Mom had gotten in from work after picking Sarah up and was preparing our meal.

"Call Alison," she said over her shoulder.

I watched her for a moment, enjoying the sight of her standing at the worktop, looking at her slim legs exposed by the short skirt. She could have been my sister, I thought, and turned away to the phone. I dialled Ali's number and waited. It rang five, six, seven times and I was about to hang up when she picked up.

"Alison Graham," she said.

"Hi Al, it's Tom."

"Of course it is," she said and I could hear the smile in her voice.

"How are you, Al?"

"Don't fuck around Tom."

"I'm in," I said.

She gave a squeal, just like my sister had that morning, and I heard a clapping sound as she hit the phone against her hand.

"Tom, that is just so brilliant. It's going to be great when you're here."

"But you'll have finished by then, Al," I said.

"No, I won't. You remember I told you about my post-grad, and my teaching. That's all been agreed now, as long as I get the grades, and I'll get them. So we can see each other all the time, Tom."

"That would be fantastic, Al."

She laughed again and I felt my heart start to beat again. It was going to be okay...

After that I called her once every couple of weeks and we chatted about nothing at all. She told me about her complicated love life, how she had broken up with Maggie at Easter, missed her and got back together at the end of April, but it wasn't quite the same and she was sure Maggie had had a fling with someone else in the weeks between, but she didn't dare ask.

She wanted to know if I'd gotten myself laid yet and I laughed and admitted that no, the opportunity hadn't come up. Besides, I was too tired to even think about sex once work was over.

Then, on Wednesday of the first week of May she called me.

"Tom, can you come out this weekend?"

"What? I don't know. Probably. Why?"

"I've found a really great apartment, but I want you to see it as well."

"Me? Why?"

"It's got two bedrooms Tom, and it's way bigger than where I am now, and I thought we could, you know, share when you come up."

"Wow, Al, I don't know. They'll be putting me in halls, I think."

"I know, but I checked. You don't need to be in halls your first year if you have relations you can stay with. And we're relations, aren't we?"

"But how much is this going to cost, Al... you know money's real tight for me."

"Come up here, Tom, we'll talk about it. I want you to see it anyway. I want your opinion. Can you?"

"I'll call you back tonight. I have a job on for Saturday but I'll see if I can get out of it. I could take the night bus and get in early Saturday, leave late Sunday."

"Try Tom, please? It would be so good to see you again."

"Yeah, you too, Al. I'll call you."

I spoke with Dag, and he said OK, if I really had to he could work around Saturday, but I knew I'd pay a penalty sometime in the future. I booked a seat on the bus and called Ali and gave her the news.

And so at midnight on Friday I found myself half dozing as the greyhound cut through the night. Lights of distant houses glimmered somewhere across fields, headlights of cars going the other way washed across the windows even through the drawn blinds. I dozed, but no more than lightly. I was excited, curious and anxious.

Despite the bus getting in at six in the morning, Ali was there to greet me. Although it was early the May air was mild and she was dressed in a light gauzy dress, and she looked wonderful. She ran and threw herself at me, wrapping her long legs around my waist so I had to drop my bag and grab her to prevent her falling off. She planted a big kiss on my lips and then put her head back to look at me.

"God, Tom, it's just so good to see you... Even if you do look like shit!"

"Thanks," I said, "You look wonderful too."

She laughed and dropped down, twirled around, her dress billowing out and showing smooth thighs, "I do, don't I? Come on, I'll buy you breakfast. Hungry?"

"Starving," I said, and we walked arm in arm to find an open diner.

Over pancakes and eggs Ali told me we could pick up the keys to the apartment from the agent at eight, and it was an hour on the bus, but it was okay because it was an hour from here but only a half hour from the University campus. She talked fast, animated, and I think I understood her.

Ali brought me up to speed on her news. She was back with Maggie, but wasn't sure how long term it was. She had finished almost all of the work she needed to complete her degree, and had been told she was in line to graduate maxima cum laude.

We stayed at the diner talking and drinking coffee until the agent's office opened, then picked up the keys with a promise to return them by the afternoon, and caught a bus.

I carried my bag as we walked up the block of old factory units that were gradually being turned into apartments. Here and there piles of rubble and building material lay around, but as we moved along the block it became cleaner and the buildings at the top were complete.

The apartment was in the very end building, and stood on a small rise looking down over rooftops to the Hudson in the distance. The building had an elevator, so we let it take us to the sixth floor. Each of the factory areas had been partitioned and there were between eight and four apartments on each level. The one Ali wanted to show me was at the very top.

She led me along the hallway to a dark oak door at the end, looked at me and gave me the keys. "You open up, Tom. I'm too nervous."

I took the keys and unlocked the door, pushed it open and we went in.

The space was empty of furniture and vast. The entrance took us into the middle of the main room which must have been thirty feet by twenty. To our right was a clean and functional kitchen with new units, a stove, and plenty of power sockets. To the left two tall windows looked out across the view of the city. Further along from the windows were three doors.

In the far long wall stood a tall framework of old beams from which all brickwork had been removed. It was beyond this the wonder of the apartment lay. Through the dark criss-crossing oak I could see three wide steps descending to an open area that appeared to be the same size as the upper room. The ceiling here sloped down and was glazed over most of its area allowing cool northern light to fill the space. Heavy wooden planks formed a half partition between the main room and this work area.

Ali looked at me and jumped up and down. "What d'you think, Tom?"

"God Ali, it's awesome," I said. "But there's no way I can afford to pay half rent on this place."

"I'll be earning by then, Tom, and I'd only want a third."

"Still..."

"We could afford it, Tom. One place, even one big place, is going to be cheaper than two small ones. And halls are expensive."

"How much would this be?" I asked.

"You share would be two-fifty," she said.

"A week?"

"A month."

"No way!" 

"Way," Ali said, and grinned.

"How come?"

"We're in early, and I'm paying the main share, and this building is owned by one of the tutors at the U and she's cut me a special deal."

"And what did you have to do to get that, Al?"

She slapped me on the arm, "Nothing, Tom! She just likes me, and she's making her money on the other apartments. And she said it's an investment. When she sells up she's going to make a fortune at the other end."

"What happens if she decides she can put the rent up?" I asked.

"We'll worry about that if it ever happens, but she's not gonna do that. Come on Tom, isn't it great?" She walked across to the separating beams and leaned against them. "This would be our studio area down here, we could set up at either end. This is everything we could possible want, Tom."

I nodded. "It is. It just seems too good to be true."

She twirled around again, the thin material of her dress flying high so she unknowingly showing me her panties, and waved me across to the doors on the other wall.

"Here," she said, bowing, "Is bedroom one." The room was big enough, no match for the space we were in, but a reasonable size with nice windows looking over the view.

She opened the middle door. "Bathroom. Look, it's got a bath as well as a shower." The room had doors that let in from either bedroom, forming a shared en-suite.

The final door was the second bedroom, about a third larger than the first.

"Which one d'you want?" Ali said.

"You have the big one," I said. "If you're going to be paying most of the rent then it's only fair."

She grinned. "Okay. Deal. So we'll take it?"

I shook my head and laughed, "What the fuck, yeah."

She ran at me again and leapt. I was ready this time and grabbed her as she wrapped her legs around me and I found my palms cupping the full cheeks of her ass. Her pubic bone pushed against my stomach and she looked at me with her head on one side, then kissed me on the mouth. I felt my cock respond and forced myself to keep my lips closed. This was just Ali getting excited, nothing more. I was going to have to be really careful around her when we started to live together, or I was going to ruin everything, and I liked her too much for that to happen.

"Oh Tom," she said, still wrapped around me, "This is going to be so much fun. I can't wait!"

I reluctantly took my hands off her ass and she dropped back to the floor.

"Let's take the keys back and I'll write them a check for the deposit, then I'm taking you shopping."

"Ali, I've got not money," I said.

"My treat. I want to buy you some nice stuff."

I put my arms out, "You mean this isn't nice?" Showing my faded blue jeans and shirt.

Ali smiled, "You look good in anything, Tom, but you'll look even better when I've finished with you. Come on."

By the time Ali was done it was almost six in the evening, twelve hours after I arrived, and as well as my overnight bag I carried three others containing the purchases she had made. I estimated she had spent over $100, and just hoped she wouldn't regret it.

We unwrapped the purchases and laid them out over the back of the big sofa. Ali had picked out a complete outfit for me to wear: a dark blue shirt, charcoal Calvin Klein underwear and black chinos. She said my boots were fine. Then she turned me to the shower, told me to clean up, and then we were going out because she wanted to show me off.

I came out the bathroom dressed in new clothes and pirouetted for Ali. She stared at me, hands on hips, and nodded. "You'll do," she said.

We walked arm in arm along the street to Ali's club. The evening was warm and sunlight caught the tops of the buildings on the east side. The club was like entering another world, but one I was slightly more familiar with now. The clientele were still made up mostly of women, but this time we did not sit alone. As soon as we entered four other girls came up to Ali, kissed her, and then kissed me. I was surprised, initially, and Ali laughed at my discomfort.

"We might be dykes," she said, "but we can still kiss boys without throwing up. Besides, I told them you're not like most men, you're one of the nice ones."

I smiled and relaxed back into my chair with a beer and enjoyed being surrounded by five beautiful women. A couple of hours later Maggie came in and joined us. I had forgotten to ask Ali if they were still an item, but from the way they kissed I guessed they were.

Some of the other girls drifted away, and then later on a couple of others joined us. I drank more beer and began to get a pleasant buzz going, leaning back and enjoying myself, mildly turned on by the way the girls seemed to look at each other, to touch each other. At some time late in the evening two of them sitting next to me began to kiss seriously, and I saw hands stroking breasts, and soon after they got up and left.

"We'd better make a move too," Ali said, "It's late, and I think Tom's had enough excitement for one evening."

Maggie lifted her hand and Ali took it and pulled her up.

"No such thing as too much excitement," Maggie said.

We walked back through the dark, warm streets to Ali's apartment.

We sat on the sofa, Ali and Maggie at one end, me on the other with a few feet between us. Ali opened wine. Maggie opened her bag and pulled out an enormous joint, lit it up and passed it round. We dimmed the lights, leaving just a standard lamp casting a pool of soft illumination beside the sofa.

I was sitting cross legged, leaning against the side arm, when I realized I was looking at Maggie and Ali kissing, and wondered how long that had been going on. It might be they had forgotten about me as well, because they were really getting into it, mouths open, tongues dancing. Maggie dropped her hand and ran it over Ali's breast and then down to her thigh and drew the thin material of her dress upwards.

I could see the top of Ali's thigh, and Maggie's hand drifted over and inwards.

Suddenly Ali sat up and opened her eyes, grabbing Maggie's hand. She looked over her girlfriend's shoulder at me and gave a lopsided grin.

"Sorry Tom, we're doing it again. We'll go through to my room."

She started to get up and Maggie held on to her and pulled her back down.

"I don't mind if he watches, Ali," she said.

"We've had this conversation," Ali said, "And you're embarrassing Tom."

I was drifting on a haze of alcohol and good Nepalese black and I shook my head. "I'm not embarrassed," I said, and then, "If anything, I guess I'm curious."

Maggie laughed, "There you go," she said. "Come on Ali, let's give the boy a show to remember."

Ali looked at me and sighed. "I don't know, Mags. It feels a bit... I don't know..."

I stood up. "Look, if it helps I'll go sit over there, out of the light. Just pretend I'm not here." My heart was beating fast now, and I was beginning to think they were actually going to do it.

Ali shook her head again, "No, it's not right," but she made no move to rise and Maggie put her arm over her shoulder and pulled her once more close.

Ali went slowly, and when Maggie put her hand on her face and turned it she parted her lips and they kissed.

I sat deep back in the corner, cross legged on the beanbag, shrouded in shadow, and watched...

Maggie seemed the dominant partner, and pushed Ali down so she was almost falling off the sofa. She dropped her hand back to Ali's thigh and this time when it rose the material of her dress was lifted above her tiny panties to reveal her flat stomach.

Maggie ran the backs of her fingers along Ali's thighs and allowed them to pause for a moment on the prominent mound between her legs. Ali moaned softly and her hips rose to meet Maggie's hand. Slowly, Maggie pulled the dress up further, revealing the whole of Ali's stomach and then the filled under curve of her cream bra. Ali lifted her arms and allowed Maggie to draw the dress up and over her head.

Ali turned and tugged at the zip on the back of Maggie's dress, pulling it down and revealing a long expanse of smooth back cut across by a blue bra strap. Maggie leaned forward and the soft material of her dress fell away from her shoulders and her upper body was free. She continued the motion and lowered her head to Ali's breasts, placed her open mouth directly over a nipple and sucked at it through the lacy material.

Ali tugged at Maggie's dress and pulled it down over her hips.

Now they lay tangled on the sofa in just flimsy underwear, Ali's cream and Maggie's blue. Ali pulled Maggie down so she was lying across her thighs and unclipped her bra, pulled it off. Maggie's large breasts lay flattened against Ali's stomach. She shifted and lowered her head and kissed the outside of Ali's panties, ran her tongue over them until they were wet. She pushed a finger inside the waistband and began to work them down.

For a moment I saw Ali's eyes open and stare directly at me as Maggie very slowly worked her panties off, revealing first the upper mound over her public bone, then the very top of her slit, finally showing her pussy in all its perfection.

Maggie slid and rolled and lay her head between Ali's naked thighs and started to lick her pussy, starting on the outside and working inwards until her tongue ran up the middle slit and then flicked her clitoris. Ali groaned and the muscles in her legs shivered.

I was getting extremely uncomfortable and had to push my legs out straight in front of me to ease my cock. I pushed it down inside the leg of my pants but it still hurt, so I eased is sideways and up. I was rock hard and almost poking above my waistband, and I desperately wanted to unzip and pull it out, but something held me back. I couldn't think that Ali or Maggie would have worried, they were too wrapped up in each other. And Ali had seen me hard before, had seen me cum.

Continuing to work on Ali's pussy, Maggie reached down and pulled her own panties off until she was completely naked. I had a perfect view of her ass, cheeks spread, the wet lips of her pussy parted between her thighs, the tight bud of her asshole centered in the deep cleft between her buttocks. A finger slid back and started to work in and out of her cunt while her other hand slid up Ali's side and pushed the cups of her bra aside to reveal her breasts, smaller than Maggie's, but more perfectly shaped.

Suddenly, Maggie grabbed Ali's hips and turned her over. She reached up and unclipped Ali's bra and tossed it aside.

Ali slid back and put her knees on the floor and lifted her ass, revealing herself. I could now see Maggie's fuller ass, her curved back, and then Ali's ass above her shoulder. I reached down and put my hand flat on the hard ridge of my cock pressing against me jeans.




Ali's Art Ch. 02



Maggie lowered her head and kissed the back of Ali's thighs, moving in now and then to flick her tongue along Ali's parted lips. As she worked, she moved gradually upwards until her tongue finally traced a line of saliva around Ali's asshole. Ali groaned more loudly and pushed herself back.

Maggie licked directly over the pink bud of Ali's asshole, wetting it. She continued licking, working her tongue all over it while her hand dipped between Ali's thighs and started to rub her pussy more quickly.

Ali started to moan almost constantly, pushing her ass back to Maggie's tongue, lifting her head up so her neck arched back. She began to buck, and Maggie put her mouth directly over Ali's asshole and began to push her tongue inside.

Ali let out a loud groan and I saw her legs spasm, Maggie's fingers furiously working her pussy, and then Ali cried out and came against Maggie's fingers and tongue, cried out twice, three times, twisting her head from side to side, pressing her face down into the cushions.

Slowly, her passion faded and she collapsed on her side, reached back with her hand and Maggie reached up and held it. Then Maggie deliberately looked over her shoulder at me and winked.

She climbed onto the sofa and sat with her legs apart, playing with herself, and said to Ali, "My turn now."

Ali moved between her thighs and put her head down, began to work her tongue deep between Maggie's pussy lips. Ali's ass was now stuck up in the air, and I could see the slippery wet cleft where Maggie had just been licking her.

Maggie kept her eyes open and looked over Ali's shoulder at me, holding a large breast in each hand, rolling them, grabbing the nipples and pulling hard. She rocked her hips against Ali's mouth and began to make her own small groans.

Still staring at me, she came quickly, gripping Ali's head between her thighs, curling up into herself as spasms wracked through her.

Ali rested her head against Maggie's stomach and reached across to the wine bottle and poured more into her glass, then turned and sat on the floor to drink it. She lifted her eyes and looked at me.

Suddenly I was self-conscious, slumped on the beanbag with my hand on the ridge of my cock. Then Ali smiled.

"Tom's got too many clothes on, Mags."

I heard a chuckle. "We should do something about that. Just look at the size of that bulge in his jeans. That can't be comfortable."

"It is big, isn't it?" Ali said.

"I want a closer look," Maggie said, and slid off the sofa to kneel beside Ali.

Ali looked across at her and smiled. "Go ahead, I don't mind."

"Sure?"

"Sure."

It seemed it was nothing to do with me.

Maggie walked across the ten feet to me on her knees, her breasts swaying. When she got to my feet she grabbed my ankles and tugged me, pulled me down flat on the floor. Then she stood and still holding my ankle dragged me across the smooth wooden floor on my back like I was some trophy. She dropped my foot when she reached the sofa, turned and looked down at me. I lay there, enjoying the view too much to complain. Maggie stood naked above me, her wet pussy parted, her heavy breasts swaying gently as she breathed.

Maggie moved away and grabbed my arm and pulled me up. "On the sofa," she said, and I helped her this time and climbed onto the sofa.

I was aware of Ali getting up, but not getting dressed. She went into the shadows and then returned with the camera. She put it to her eye and began to photograph us.

Maggie looked at her lover again, said, "Can I really do this, Ali?"

"Sure," Ali said. "I bet he might even like it."

"Don't I have any say in this?" I asked.

"None at all," Maggie said.

She put her palms on my knees, slid them up inside my thighs until they couldn't go any higher. Her fingers were touching my balls, then she moved her right hand and laid it over my cock inside my jeans, stroked it lightly and I gasped and jerked.

"Don't you dare cum yet," she said.

"When was the last time you did this, Mags?" I asked. "With a man?"

"Oh... a while now... quite a while."

She reached up and unclipped my waistband, found the top of my zip and tugged it down, opened my jeans and slid her hand in under the material, found my cock in my shorts and gripped it. She worked my jeans loose, pulling them down and away and as they came my shorts slid down too and the head of my cock popped free. It was slick with pre-cum and Maggie looked at it, then touched the tip with her finger, feeling the slipperiness, rubbing it all around the head. Quickly she pulled my jeans, dragging them off my feet, then reached for my shorts and removed those as well as I lifted my hips to let them come free.

Her hand returned, slid around my cock and held it, not moving, just holding me.

I heard Maggie whisper, "Hot..." and then she put her lips close to the head of my cock. 

I watched, waiting. She leaned her head one way, another, looked back up at me, my cock in her hand, her mouth close, and grinned.

"I've never been this close to a cock before," she said.

"You said it had been a while," I said.

"It has. A long while. And then it was just a quick hand job. I like girls. I fuck girls, Tom. But you're different. Ali thinks you're different too."

"Thanks. I think."

She didn't see to hear me. "I want to..." Maggie murmured, then shook her head, "Don't know quite what I want to do with this thing..." She looked back up at me. "Make you cum, Tom? Yeah?"

I nodded. Oh God, yes, I thought, please make me cum.

Maggie put her face against my cock, laid it against her cheek, and slid her face down along the side of me. I shivered. I also realized she was not going to do what I'd thought. She was not going to take me in her mouth. I was disappointed, fuck yes I was disappointed, but I could understand it. I thought I was going to get my first real blow job. I'd had one before, half hearted, with a girl from school, but it had been duty not passion that drove her because I'd just gone down on her and given her a shuddering climax, and she'd not let me cum inside her mouth.

The camera in Ali's hands made snicking sounds as she captured my cock pressed to Maggie's warm face.

Maggie kissed down along the underside of my cock, lightly planting her lips all along it. I felt her finger slide up my thighs, push them apart cup and my balls. She rubbed me there, then put her finger deep inside her mouth to wet it and returned it, tugged me down and widened my thighs further by pushing her body between them, pushed and I felt her slide her finger into my asshole. No one had ever done that to me before, and I had never even imagined it. Doing it to a girl, yeah, I had imagined that, and putting more than my finger in their ass too, but never anyone doing it to me. It felt odd, but Maggie's attention on my cock distracted me, and after a moment I discovered it was adding to my arousal.

Maggie started to rub my cock more seriously now, gripping me in her palm. She put her mouth close to the head again and let saliva drop from her lips, spreading it over my cock, let more coat me, her hand slippy now. She put the tip of my cock very lightly on her lips, still closed, just holding me there as she rubbed.

"Tell me if you're going to cum," she muttered, and I felt the buzz on her lips on my cock.

I nodded. I wanted to lift up, to grab the back of her head, hold her as I pushed my cock between her lips, but I knew I couldn't so I lay where I was, gripping the cushions in my fists, and let her tease me.

She rubbed my cock along her lips, one side to the other, back. She spat on me, repeated the operation.

The she lifted her head, staring at me, and said, "Fuck my tits, Tom?"

"If that's what you want?"

She nodded, and lifted herself up so her large breasts swung either side of my wet cock and then pushed them together, trapping me there.

"Fuck my tits," she grunted.

I started pulsing my hips, sliding my cock between her round globes. On each stroke the head appeared between her cleavage, then slid back between them. Her large hard nipples rubbed against my hips bones and as I pushed up she spat on me again, wetting me more, then tucked me back into the warmth of her cleavage.

The pressure built, rising, and I hissed between my teeth as cum filled my balls and raged up inside my cock. Maggie nodded, said, "Yes".

I threw my hips forward and let myself erupt between her breasts. The first long stream shot out between her cleavage, my cock still half buried between her globes, and splashed onto her chest. The next shot my cock was clear and I splashed a huge rope of cum onto the underside of her chin and along her neck. I bucked and twitched, pouring slippery trails of cum onto her neck and into her cleavage, thought I would never stop cumming, but finally I was spent and sagged back on the cushions.

Maggie sat back on her heels and let my cum slide down along her skin, over her breasts. She spread it beneath her hands until she was slick and coated.

I saw Ali move and focus on what Maggie was doing, fire of shot after shot as my semen was spread over those enormous mounds and then across her stomach.

"How does that compare with the last time, Mags?" I asked.

Maggie looked down at herself in wonder and laughed. "Fucking hell, Tom, I'm covered! I'm going to need a shower now."

That night I did not lie awake at all and didn't stir until Maggie shook my shoulder in the morning.

"I'm off, Tom. Thanks for last night."

I grinned at her, "I think it's you I need to thank. That was some show. And as for what happened after... well..."

She grinned back, kissed me and left. I lay comfortably under the duvet on the sofa and heard Ali start to move around. She padded through in her short robe and went into the bathroom and I heard the shower running. When she came out she smelled good: clean and sexy.

"What time's your bus, Tom?" she asked as she went past me.

"One o'clock," I said.

She looked up at the clock on the wall above the kitchen sink. It read 9:30.

"Grab a quick shower, I'll make some breakfast, and then I've got something for you."

I slid out from the duvet and walked through to the bathroom in yesterday's shorts, not as self-conscious as I was before last night. I ran hot water over my body, washed my hair, soaped myself giving particular care to my cock, balls and ass.

When I came out in fresh shorts I pulled on my jeans, didn't bother with a shirt and then sat at the tiny kitchen table. Ali had laid two places, and propped between my plate and mug was a plain white envelope. She had written Tom Graham on the front of it in perfect calligraphic script.

"What's this?" I asked.

"Your share," she said. She placed eggs on my plate, filled my mug with coffee and then sat across from me with her own breakfast.

"Share of what?"

"The proceeds of sin, I guess," she laughed.

I frowned at her, picked up the envelope and ran my thumb under the flap. I fanned it open and looked inside to see a pile of ten dollar bills.

"What's this for?" I asked, pulling it out and leafing through them. The envelope contained exactly $500.

"Last time you were here, I think I probably took advantage of you, Tom. Those photographs I took, I used them to produce some drawings, and they sold really well."

"Oh," I said, and then, "But some of this must be yours, Ali."

"I've taken my share out. I gave you a third."

"How many drawings?" I asked.

"About a hundred," she said.

"A hundred!"

"You were a good model. And they were far more explicit than anything I've done before." She leaned forward, excitement glittering in her eyes. "Tom, there's a huge market for the kind of stuff I drew. I think we could make a lot of money, if you want to help me out again."

I stared across the table at her, my eggs going cold on the plate. "Help you out...?"

Ali shrugged and I became aware of the way the neck of her robe had opened, revealing the upper curve of her breasts moving freely. "Only if you want to, Tom. I thought..."

"You want me to... you know... jack off again?" I asked.

"No... Uh, something else..."

My stomach was performing odd little flips and my heart was fluttering in my chest.

"Something else?" I said.

"When you did what you did with Mags last night, it gave me ideas for more drawings."

"Yeah?" My heart was beating like mad now, and I was sure Ali could hear it across the table.

"You know I'm not into men, Tom, but I don't mind pretending, to get something new down."

"What do you want me to do, Ali?" I said, trying to keep the tremor from my voice.

"I think if we work it right, you can pretend to be fucking me," she said. "Of course, you won't really be fucking me," she added.

Of course, I thought.

"And I'll set the camera up with the remote and use the pictures as a template. I think we can make as much as that again, maybe more. What d'you think, Tom?"

"I don't know, Al, I'm not sure."

She shrugged again and smiled, "Okay. No pressure. I can understand if you don't want to."

"It's not that, Al, it's..."

"What, Tom?"

"What if I get excited? You know?"

She gave that damn sexy shrug again. "I think it would probably be better if you did get excited," she said. "I mean, no-one's going to want to buy a drawing of a limp cock, are they?"

"Fucking hell, Al," I said.

"Yes or no?" She asked. "There's no pressure, Tom."

I looked across at her, my beautiful cousin, and felt emotions ebb and flow through me like tides. I breathed deeply, held the air down in my stomach and then let it out slowly through my mouth. I nodded.

"Okay," I said.

"Yeah?" She smiled.

I nodded. "I think so."

She jumped up and the neck of her robe slipped aside and showed me the full round magnificence of a breast. She idly pulled it back over.

"Come on then. Oh, hang on, your breakfast."

"I'm not hungry anymore," I said.

"Nor me." She laughed.

"How do you want to do this?" I asked.

She took the tripod and camera and positioned it in front of the sofa, knelt and checked the viewfinder and adjusted the zoom. She found the small remote and held it in her hand. Then she untied her robe and let it slide off her shoulders, mostly turned away from me, and tossed it onto the desk behind her. I saw the side of a breast tremble as she moved, the flex of her back and her ass as she shifted her weight. She stood in only a tiny pair of flesh colored briefs, barely more than a g-string, the narrow cord at the back hidden inside the crack of her ass. 

She turned fully to me and said, "I want to get as many positions as we can. I'm not completely sure yet how we'll do this, but we can work it out as we go along. Take your jeans and shorts off and come over here. You'll have to help me out because I'm not the best one to know about what positions might be right."

I unclipped my jeans and pulled them off, followed with my shorts.

"Oh, good... you're already half hard."

As she spoke my cock stiffened and rose.

Ali looked at it and giggled. "Is it me doing that?" she said.

"Can you see anyone else?"

"Wow, I'm flattered."

"Sorry, Al," I said. "I know you're into girls, but I don't think the message has reached as far as my cock yet."

"Don't apologize," she said. "The harder the better for what we want. Come and lie on the edge of the sofa."

I let her direct me.

"Put your butt on the edge of the cushions... yeah, like that. Open your legs, you're pretending to be me."

I parted my thighs and burst out laughing.

"What?" Ali said.

"I don't think, with the best will in the world, anyone will think I'm you," I said.

She giggled. "No, maybe not. But I need to get the position right first." She looked through the viewfinder and then moved the camera a couple of feet to the right. "Okay, now get up so I can go there."

I stood and watched her assume the position I had just been in. Her breasts flattened as she lay back, but only slightly. I wondered why her nipples were as hard as they seemed to be. She motioned me towards her.

"Kneel down here," she pointed between her open thighs. The tiny triangle of semi-transparent nylon barely covered her pussy and I could clearly see her parted lips through the material.

"Closer," she said, and pressed the remote and I heard the camera snick.

She put her hand on my hip and pulled me closer. "You have to pretend you're about to stick your cock in my pussy," she said.

I walked closer on my knees until the head of my cock was three inches from her parted legs. Her hand on my hip tugged me again.

"More," she said.

I shuffled and then pressed my hips forward. The head of my cock was half an inch from the material now. I stared down in fascination and watched as a bead of clear fluid grew from the head of my cock.

"Oops," I mumbled.

"Don't worry," she said. "I'm flattered, remember. Push it against me. That's why I've got these on so it looks like you're really fucking me. But we won't really be doing it."

"No," I said. "We're just pretending."

I leaned forward and the head of my cock pressed against the film of material. It was hardly any barrier at all and I felt the plump lips of her pussy part and my cock pushed the material slightly inside and my cock sat half an inch inside her parted lips.

The camera shutter flipped rapidly several time.

"Good," Ali said, and for the first time her voice sounded strained.

"Something else?" I asked.

She looked at me and hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah, I had a few ideas. How about me on top?"

I pulled back, leaving a large wet patch on the front of her panties, turning the material almost transparent. The nylon remained pushed inside her pussy lips, and she reached down and tugged it out. I wondered if the dampness was all caused by me, or had Ali made her own contribution.

She directed me to lie on my back on the sofa and then straddled me, slowly lowering herself down until the full rigid length of my cock lay against her stomach.

"You still okay with this?" she said, looking down at where I touched her.

"I guess," I said.

"Are you very excited?" she asked.

"Pretty much," I answered.

"Are you likely to cum?"

I shook my head, "I don't think so."

"Did you get very turned on last night?" she asked. "Watching me and Maggie?"

I nodded. "What d'you think."

"Mmm." She nodded. "I think that's what I wanted to happen. I want you to be happy, Tom. And it turned me on too, doing that in front of you."

"Yeah?" I said.

She nodded, then said, "But let's get on with this," her voice firming where it had been soft. She lowered herself so her pussy pressed against my balls, and I could imagine that from the back it looked like my cock was sunk deep inside her. The camera sounded. She moved around on me as she took more shots, trying different angles, tugging and pushing me to new positions. Then she pulled herself away. The wet patch on her panties was definitely larger now, and I knew that this time it had been nothing to do with me.

"Up," she said, and replaced me, face down on the sofa, her knees on the floor, her ass pushed up in the air.

"Anal sex," she said.

"What!"

"Pretend to fuck me in the ass," she said.

"Oh," I said, then, "Shouldn't I pretend to lick your asshole first?"

"Good idea," she said and her legs parted more widely. I could just see the narrow band of the panties running up across her asshole, the darker pink around the outside of it peeping either side of the strip of material.

I knelt and put my face into the crack of her ass. I could smell the musky, hot scent of her.

"Should I actually lick your ass?" I asked. "'Cause I wouldn't mind."

"See how close you can get without touching," she said, "We'll see how that goes."

I put my face lower and felt the smooth skin of her ass cheeks pressing against my stubble as I pushed in.




Ali's Art Ch. 02



I stuck my tongue out and tried to get it as close to her asshole as I could without touching her.

"Okay," I said in a strained voice. "Better be quick, I'm not sure how long I can hang on here," I said.

The shutter sounded rapidly and then Ali said, "I never thought, Tom, I'm really sorry. It didn't occur to me what I was asking. You probably don't want to put your face anywhere near my ass, do you."

I started to laugh. "You haven't the faintest idea, Al," I said.

"Sorry?"

"Well... it's just, fuck, this is turning me on more than seems reasonable."

"Oh," she said.

"Ready again?" I said.

"Ready."

I pushed my face back between her cheeks and this time the tip of my tongue went further than I thought and I felt it run across the puckered side of her asshole. Ali twitched, but instead of pulling away she pushed back and the whole flat surface of my tongue spread into her crack and covered her asshole.

I pulled back and sat on my heels.

"Did you get the shots?" I said.

"I..." Ali hesitated and I heard her take in a breath, "I think so."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to go quiet that far."

"S'okay," Ali said. "It's not as it it's the first time I've had a tongue in my asshole."

"I noticed," I said.

Ali laughed. "What the fuck are we doing, Tom?"

"Fucked if I know," I said. "But it's Art, I guess, yeah?"

"Yeah," Ali said.

"More?"

"OK. Pretend to fuck me now, like your putting your cock in my ass?"

She put her head back down and I moved closer, let my cock rest against the crack of her ass, afraid to place it where it should be, making sure it was offset enough to not touch her in that sensitive spot.

"Closer," she grunted after taking some shots, and I moved in, slid my cock along her crack until it rested cradled for its full length, my balls pressed against her covered pussy. Five more shots and then she put her hand back and pushed against my leg. 

"Enough?" I said.

"Mm," she replied. Her voice wasn't altogether normal.

"Ali, is this turning you on too?"

She rolled over, looked up into my eyes, and then nodded.

"I don't want to fuck you, Ali."

"Thanks," she said sarcastically.

"I mean, I would. I'd love to fuck you, but you know what I mean. I won't fuck you."

She reached out and slapped the back of her hand on my stomach, "I know what you mean, silly. Come up here and kneel over me, pretend to fuck my mouth."

"Fuck Al."

"No - pretend," she said.

I straddled her breasts and pointed my cock at her mouth. Ali looked around me at the camera and frowned, put her hands on my shoulders and pulled herself out from under me. I felt the firm mounds of her breasts part around the length of my cock as she slid away, the silk of her hair brushing the underside of my cock and balls. She moved the camera so it was at the side of the sofa, pointed at where her head had been. Then she wriggled and slid back underneath me, repeating that long soft slide around my cock.

"Sorry," she said, "Couldn't help that."

"Help what?" I said innocently.

She wriggled further down and looked cross eyed down at my cock. The engorged head was now a couple of inches away from her lips. She opened her mouth and pursed her lips as though she was about to suck me in. I felt her hand on my ass as she pulled me forward. I overbalanced and almost ploughed myself directly into her mouth, then grabbed the back of the sofa and stopped just in time.

"Nnn nn n nn n nnn nn n," Ali said.

"What?"

She put her hand on my hip and pushed me away.

"If I open my mouth wide can you put it maybe an inch inside? I'll try not to touch it or anything."

"Oh, good," I said, and laughed.

She slapped my butt and resumed her position. I eased my hips forward and watched as the head of my cock edged inside her mouth, held myself there, twitching. I could see a large drop of pre-cum forming on the head and prayed it wouldn't drip off before I withdrew.

The camera sounded and I moved backwards.

"Wait," Ali said.

I stopped. She lifted her hand and moved it towards my cock, then stopped.

She looked up at me.

"I want to hold it, pretend I'm rubbing you off into my mouth. Are you okay with that?"

I nodded.

She tugged my hip until I was in the position she wanted, then put her hand around the middle section of my cock. She didn't squeeze me hard, but just her touch was almost too much for me, and it took every ounce of control and technique not to explode all over her face. I made a high grunting sound deep in my throat at the same time as I heard the camera capture the image.

"Are you okay Tom?" Ali asked, her hand still circling me.

"Just about," I said.

"This isn't fair, is it?" she said.

"It's okay, Ali, I understand."

She pushed against my hip and let her hand slip from around my cock.

"Turn around and sit on the sofa, Tom," she said. I flopped over beside her and she turned and slid down to sit between my knees. 

I looked down at her, but she was looking at my cock. It was bigger and harder than I had ever seen it, and a constant stream of pre-cum was pushing up from the center and dripping down its length.

"Tom?" Ali said.

"Yeah?"

"Can I finish you off? Kind of to say thanks?"

"God Al..."

"Can I?"

"If you're sure - I know you're not into men."

"I've never done it before," she said. "I've never wanted to do it. But you're different, Tom. It feels like I can do this for you and it's not the same."

"Think of me as an honorary dyke," I said.

She laughed softly. "Less lip, dude, or I'll change my mind."

She slid her hand up along my thigh and touched my swollen ball sac.

"Tom, have you shaved your balls? I'm sure there was more hair last time I saw them."

"I was curious," I said.

"It looks good," she said, ran her fingertip over them. "Feels smooth. Is it sensitive?"

"Oh fuck yeah," I said.

She gripped my cock again and started to gently stroke me up and down.

"Tell me what to do, Tom," she said. "I don't know how to, you know."

"You're doing just fine," I said, looking down to watch her slim fingers wrapped around me, stroking me from base to head.

I saw her other hand drop down and slip between her legs, probe beneath the tiny triangle of material. She pulled her fingers out and raised them to the head of my cock and spread her slick fluid all over it. I groaned and my hips involuntarily bucked forward.

Ali gasped. "I thought that was it," she said.

"Almost. Ali, where's the remote for the camera."

She looked around, saw it on the floor. She picked it up and passed it to me. I held it in my left hand along my side, hidden from view.

Ali began to stroke me again, her hand lowering back to her own sex and staying there.

I pulled the muscle deep inside between my balls and my asshole and stopped myself cumming. I wanted to cum so bad, more than I ever had in my life, but I didn't want Ali to stop what she was doing. I watched as Ali began to rub me harder and move her fingers quickly in and out of her wet cunt. Her head dropped and her mouth fell open. Her perfect breasts shook and swayed, her pink nipples long and hard. She was breathing quickly, and I waited, waited, waited...

I could hear the sound her fingers made as she pushed them inside herself, wet and soft and sexy. I could smell the scent of her pussy, filling my head, filling my cock with want.

"Nnnnnn!" she grunted, and I saw her quiver. Her hand gripped tighter around my cock and shuddered, then began to rub frantically. Control of her movements was going, she twitched, her hand tightened then almost released me, but it didn't matter now. Her back arched and her thighs shook and she shoved her hand hard down against herself as I allowed my control to relax, and let the enormous pressure go.

Cum erupted from my cock and shot in a long arc right over my head and the back of the sofa, it must have traveled four feet or more, and I pressed my finger down on the remote and kept it there as I spurted again, this time splashing my own cheek, again on my chest, again on my stomach, again on my navel, again on Ali's hand... again on her fingers... again, finally, running in white streams down my cock and over the back of her hand...

Ali continued rubbing me, slower now, spreading slick cum over the length of my cock, wiping it down and over my balls, back up over my head, and watched as my cock began to shrink, fascinated to see the change.

I shuddered and twitched and grabbed my hand around Ali's and stopped her as I became too sensitive to be touched and then let my breath out.

"Better?" Ali said.

"Oh yes," I said. "And you?"

"I think I was as turned on as you, Tom. I just had to..."

"It was great," I said.

"It was, wasn't it?" she said.

"Ali," I said, "what the fuck are we going to do when we start living together?"

"Behave ourselves," she said, and smiled. "You're going to be too busy getting laid by gorgeous young students to think about things like this."

I looked down at her beautiful face and said nothing.

Eventually Ali pulled away from me and wiped her hand with a tissue, but before she did she held it up to her face and turned it over, gazing at the glistening semen coating the back of her hand.

I pulled myself off the couch and went through to the bathroom for another quick shower to clean off. When I came out Ali was dressed and we sat at the kitchen table and ate our interrupted breakfast.

Before long it was time for my bus and Ali walked me to the terminal and kissed me before I left. I like to think the kiss was longer and deeper than any that had come before, but that was probably just wishful thinking. My wanton cousin was giving me wild thoughts and I didn't really think she knew quite what she was doing.

I turned and looked out the window at her as my bus pulled away, watching until it turned a corner and she disappeared from sight, still standing on the sidewalk where we'd said goodbye.



Ali's Art Ch. 03



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This episode involves Tom only. No Ali. But it does include the loss of his virgin state. For those of you who are waiting for Tom and Ali's relationship to develop, Chapter 4 will bring them back together. For now, enjoy this episode in its own right. And if you can't wait, Chapter 4 will be available almost immediately.

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It was early June and the weather in Denton had settled into a long warm period with light easterly winds bringing the occasional scent of the ocean twenty miles distant. Work was still busy, and Dag had put me on a job on my own for a couple of weeks, landscaping the grounds of a smart single story house on the eastern edge of town, set back in woods just off County Park Road. Dag came out with me the first Saturday, walked the grounds, talked with the couple who owned the place and introduced me.

It seemed it was the woman who wanted to place landscaped, the man who went along with it, and would pay. He looked like he could afford it. A big man, six-four and wide, short black hair, his face the kind that always looked like it needed a shave, even after he'd just come out the bathroom. The woman was a clear foot shorter than her husband, slim and pretty with curly blonde hair and bright blue eyes. He was gruff, answering direct questions only, she was friendly, smiling a lot and animated about the work she wanted done.

Dag explained that I would be carrying out the work on my own, and so it was going to take at least two weeks. The woman said that was fine, the man nodded, looking off into the woods, not too interested.

The weather was just clearing the first day. Rain had fallen overnight and the clouds were breaking up as we arrived, occasional shafts of sun breaking through. The man was Greg Harris and his wife Jennifer. He looked to be about forty, she maybe ten years younger, perhaps even less. I liked her, thought she was attractive and friendly. At the start of the job, Monday morning at seven a.m. I had no expectation of anything other than two weeks hard work in pleasant surroundings.

Dag dropped me off and helped unload the equipment I was going to need. There were two days of preparation, and then stone, topsoil and plants were due for delivery. Dag left me and I looked around at the flat grass, walked up the path and knocked on the front door.

Greg opened it immediately, briefcase in hand.

"Hey, Tom, early riser eh?" He hadn't appeared to be listening Saturday, and I was surprised he remembered my name.

"Always try to be. Dag doesn't let me be anything else."

Greg laughed and slapped me on the shoulder. "See you tonight, maybe. Have fun."

Yeah, I thought: digging, humping soil, stripping grass.

"Jenni, Tom's here. Give him some coffee before you leave, hon!" With that Greg used his remote to open the garage doors and a minute later drove off in a new Mercedes.

Jenni came to the door, sleepy eyed, still dressed in a housecoat, and handed me a steaming mug of coffee. She smiled and went back inside without a word. I took my coffee round the side of the house and sat on a wooden bench while I sipped it, trying not to scald my mouth. From behind me I heard a window open and then the sound of a shower running. I looked back, but any sight of Jenni was obscured behind heavily frosted glass, and I felt bad for hoping I might have copped a look.

Not too bad though, because she would have been worth looking at.

I put my empty mug down beside the front door and started work. I had to remove a large area of lawn in front of the house and then start moving earth. Dag had dropped off a mini-digger, and I started it up and began to strip the grass and pile it neatly. If we didn't re-use it, Dag would be able to sell the turf somewhere else, or use it on one of his other jobs.

Just before nine the front door opened and Jenni came out, dressed for work, neat business suit, skirt just touching the top of her knees, hair pulled back and tied high on the back of her head, no stockings, her bare legs lightly tanned and smooth.

She waved and called, "See you later, Tom," and backed her own smaller car out of the garage and disappeared on the road into town.

I swung the digger around and started removing the next strip of turf.

Just after noon I had finished with the digger and stripped my tee shirt off and went to sit at the bench round the side of the house again, opened my lunch and ate it slowly while I watched the shadows ripple under the trees behind the house. It was quiet this far out of town, the only sound wind in the tree tops and from somewhere far off a tractor working a field.

I drank a lot of the water I had brought, my bottle filled from the tap at home that morning, then walked into the trees to piss. Afterwards I wandered further into the woods. There was no fence marking them off, and it looked like the woods were part of the parcel of land the house was on. It was cooler in the shade and after a while I wished I'd brought my tee shirt with me. I didn't stay long, just looked around, saw fungi growing on wind felled trees, heard birds and insects, and the wind high up in the leaves. It felt good: peaceful and safe and kind of secret.

When I came out I pulled my tee back on and went around the front just as Jenni pulled up and drove into the garage. She came out, her dark jacket slung over an arm, the top three buttons of her white blouse undone. She had nice breasts, pushed high by her bra. They were the kind that sat high anyway, pushed up and together, deep cleavage between their white orbs, and they jiggled when she walked, shivering like jello. I made myself look up and meet her eyes, hoping she hadn't caught me staring.

"How's it going, Tom?" She stopped and looked at the results of my morning's work.

"It's going good, Mrs. Harris," I said.

"Call me Jenni, Tom, please."

I nodded. "It's going to look a mess for a couple of days, I'm afraid, but this is all preparation. Come Wednesday, Thursday at the latest, I'll start putting things back together and it's going to look better then."

She touched me on the arm. "I trust you, Tom. And Dag. He's worked for us before, and we're always pleased with the results." She fanned her face with her hand and blew her cheeks out. "Getting warm out here."

I nodded. My tee was soaked through front and back.

"I'm going to get something to eat," she said. "You want a cold drink, Tom?"

"I'd love one," I said, "But I need to get this finished for you."

"Just a few minutes. It would be nice to have some company over lunch. I usually eat alone."

"Sure," I said.

She turned towards the house. "If you don't mind though, take your boots off."

"Of course."

"I need to change first. I'll call you when its ready."

I went back to work, moving and tidying the piles of turf, then started to dig soil out and move it to where Dag wanted higher patches for the landscaping. They wanted a big water feature off to the side of the front drive, and some larger trees were being brought in next week.

It was probably a half hour before I heard Jenni calling. I shut down the digger and pulled my heavy work boots off, left them on the path in front of the door. I knocked and peered inside.

"Straight through to the kitchen," Jenni called.

I went down along a wide hallway floored with real oak, turned a half corner and entered a large kitchen. Jenni was standing at the central work island. She had changed into shorts and a cream blouse with high cut arms showing her shoulders. Her smooth legs led down to bare feet. She pointed to a large glass of home made lemonade heavy with ice cubes.

"Grab a chair. Sit and talk to me, Tom." She pulled a stool up to the counter and tucked her legs underneath, began to pick at an avocado salad, sipping at her own drink.

"Good lemonade," I said, taking a deep swig.

"Thanks. I think it's better when you make it yourself, don't you?"

"Sure seems that way."

"So how long've you been working for Dag, Tom? I don't think I've seen you around on the other jobs he's done for us."

"Since last summer," I said. "I'm only with him a year before I go to college."

"College," she said, raising her eyebrows. "So this isn't a full time job?"

I laughed. "No way. Not that there's anything wrong with it, but I wouldn't want to make it a career."

"Good for you," she said. "Education is never wasted. What is it you're going to study?"

"Art. Drawing," I said. "History of Art."

She nodded and looked at me over her glass. "Interesting."

"I think so," I said.

"Where are you going?"

"New York. My cousin's already there, and we'll have a chance to see each other. She's finishing her degree this year, but staying on."

"Great. And are you any good, Tom? I'd love to see some of your work."

I laughed again. "It's OK Jenni, you don't have to be polite."

She smiled back at me. "No, I mean it. I love painting, drawings, good photography. I always try to get Greg something each year for his birthday. Maybe I could buy something off you, Tom!"

"I don't know I've got anything good enough for that," I said.

"Modest, too. I tell you what, bring some of your work over tomorrow and let me see. If I think there's anything there, I might make you an offer."

"You don't need to do that, Jenni," I said. "I'm getting well paid for this job."

She reached over and briefly touched my arm, her hand pale against my sun browned skin. "I mean it, Tom. I want to see some of your stuff. I'm going to be upset if you don't bring me anything to look at now."

I shrugged. "OK. But you can be honest. And I don't expect you to buy anything, Jenni, OK?"

She nodded. "OK."

I finished my lemonade and stood up. "Better get back to it."

"I'm going to be around all afternoon," Jenni said. "I'll bring you another drink later."

"Thanks."

I walked out and pulled my boots back on, threw myself into the hard labor of landscaping.

I almost didn't bring my portfolio the next morning. I had sat up into night the worrying about what to put in and what to leave out. There was for sure a pile of work I had done with Ali that I wasn't going to show Jenni, but I wanted to show her my best work, and much of that was the new stuff that wasn't suitable.

In the end, I included the first portrait I had done of Ali, the head and shoulders, and also a full length nude of her. I had changed the features, and it was impossible to tell it was the same woman - at least I hoped so. The nude was fairly tasteful compared to many I had done. Also included were some older landscapes, more recent drawings I had done since coming home of people around town, faces of men and women, farmers working in a cornfield, a man sitting in his pickup smoking a cigarette. In all, maybe twenty pieces.

Dag dropped me off just before seven and I put the folder down on top of the old canvas bag containing my lunch and started work. Before long Greg came out, walked over to chat about what I was going to be doing, slapped me on the shoulder again and drove off. I thought, if the chance came up, I'd ask Jenni what her husband did. Her too, maybe.

Just before nine she came out, walked over to me as well. I was sweating heavily now, the air warmer today.

"Did you bring me something to see?" she asked, arms folded over her chest.

I nodded at the folder on top of my bag. "Over there."

She grinned. "Good. I'll look at them over lunch. You'll have lunch with me, Tom, won't you?"

"I've brought something," I said.

"I'm sure you can manage another lunch. Eat yours early. You must burn off the calories doing this job."

"Surely true," I said.

"See you later then."

I continued to work and by one o'clock the shape of the pool was formed. I stopped and called Dag on my cellphone, told him I would be ready for the sand and lining in the morning.

I glanced at my bag. My lunch was still wrapped inside, and I was hungry now, but decided to wait.

Jenni arrived at half-one, jacket over her shoulder again, top three buttons showing off her mobile cleavage.

"Give me thirty minutes, Tom, then come on in."

I spent the time smoothing out the sides of the pool, using a shovel to work the edges into the shape I wanted.

Jenni called and I pulled off my boots and went inside, aware of how sweaty and dirty I probably looked.

She was in the kitchen, different pair of shorts, this time wearing a pale blue tank top in what looked like it could be silk. From the way her breasts moved inside it, she seemed to have dispensed with a bra.

"I've made chicken salad. Hope that's OK, Tom?"

"Sounds good," I said, meaning it.

She held her hand out. I passed the folder over and sat on the stool, pulling myself up to the counter. I reached for the knife and fork and noticed my hands.

"D'you mind if I wash up first?"

Jenni looked up from studying my drawings. "Sure. Use the kitchen sink, there's soap on the side."

While I cleaned my hands Jenni continued looking through my work. She lay the drawings side by side, four at a time on the counter top, studied each one for a long time, then moved on, gathering them up and replacing them with another four.

I sat back on my stool and started to eat, trying not to look too interested in her reaction.

She had her head cocked to one side, a fork in one hand, and every now and then she picked at some chicken or lettuce.

My stomach gave a little flip when I saw her tip out the portrait of Ali and then the nude. She turned them towards her and looked down, pursing her lips.

"I wasn't sure about that one," I said.

She glanced across at me. "Why not? It's really good." She touched the portrait. "Who's this?"

"That's Ali, my cousin."

"She's very beautiful."

"She is."

"And this one?" She moved the nude with her finger.

"Just some model."

Jenni raised an eyebrow. "Just some model? She's got one hell of a figure, for just some model."

"I guess." I went back to my salad, trying to hide my unease at being questioned. I wasn't quite sure why I was so uncomfortable - after all, everyone painted nudes, it was part of the job.

Jenni gathered the sheets together and slipped them back into the folder.

"I don't want to buy any of these," she said.

I nodded, but I was a little disappointed. Maybe I had hoped she would think I was a genius. "That's fine, Jenni. I didn't really expect-"

"But I do want to commission you," she said, interrupting me.

"Commission me?"

"That is the right word, isn't it?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess."

"I want you to draw me - like you have your cousin. Head and shoulders. But larger. About-" she held her hands out about eighteen inches apart, "About this big, and so high?"

I closed my mouth. "You do?" 

She nodded. "It's Greg's birthday on Saturday. If I sat for you d'you think you could finish by then?"

I thought it over. "I don't know, Jenni." I saw her face drop. "Normally it wouldn't be a problem, but I have to get your garden finished, and I imagine you don't want to sit for me when Greg's here."

"Oh," she said. "I hadn't thought of that. Greg's never home till eight, though. How about I run you back home about seven-thirty? Could you spare an hour after you finish outside?"

I thought about it, nodded. "It might be close, but I guess I could finish by Friday, if we can start today."

Jenni grinned. "OK. Oh - and how much should I pay you? I've no idea about these things."

"I'll tell you tomorrow," I said, "After I've seen how we get on this evening."

"Wonderful."

I called Dag and told him I wouldn't need picking up, grateful he didn't press too much on why, or how I was going to get home, then left a message for Mom saying I'd be late, and at just before six knocked on the front door in my socks.

Jenni opened the door, still dressed as she had been for lunch.

"How d'you want to do this, Tom? I've never sat for an artist before. What should I do?"

"Is there anywhere you want to be?" I said. "Think about Greg, where would he like to see you?"

"In the garden," she said at once, "With the woods behind."

We went outside and I sat Jenni on the bench, facing the house so she was framed behind by birch and wild oak. I turned her side on and asked her to look slightly towards me, just to my right. Then I pulled up a single chair, opened my small art pad, which I always took with me everywhere, and started to make an initial sketch.

"I'm going to do something real quick tonight," I said. "Tomorrow I'll bring over a large pad and start on the finished drawing."

Jenni nodded, and I said, "You'll have to try not to move."

I saw her start to smile and then suppress it. She almost nodded again, then stared off to one side.

I worked solidly for close to an hour, and by then I could see Jenni was struggling to hold the pose. I had pretty much finished the first rough sketch and told her to relax. She let her breath out suddenly, as though she had been holding it for the entire time and slumped back against the bench.

"That's really hard," she said.

"Next time you'll have to try and relax when you start. You ever done yoga?" I asked her.

She shook her head. "Pilates. Aerobics. Never yoga."

"Great discipline if you want to pose," I said.

She got up from the bench and stretched her arms high up above her head, easing the kinks out of her body. The blue top lifted to reveal a long expanse of flat belly, a deep navel. She shook her arms and came over to me.

"Can I see? Or is there some weird artist thing where I can't look till it's finished?"

"No, you can look," I said, and turned the pad.

She came close and perched on the wide arm of the garden chair, leaned over and studied the sketch.

"Wow, Tom, that's incredible," she finally said.

"It's only a preliminary sketch, to see if it's the kind of thing you want."

"Greg'll love it!"

"We'll start work on the full size one tomorrow, after work, yeah?"

She nodded, making no move off the chair. Her smooth leg hung down beside mine and I dragged my gaze away. I was going to have to be professional about this. A new experience. I knew well that I had hardly acted professionally when drawing Ali, but Jenni was almost a complete stranger, and I would need to rein in my eighteen year old hormones.

Thankfully she glanced at her watch and jumped up. "I'd better take you home. Greg'll be back soon and I want this to be a complete surprise."

On the way into town Jenni said, "You will be finished by Saturday? That's his birthday."

"Sure", I said, more confidently than I felt.

I directed Jenni to my street and she made a good effort at not being shocked at how modest our house was. Just before I opened my door she leaned over and gave me a quick peck on the cheek.

"Thanks, Tom. This means a lot to me."

"My pleasure."

"Oh, and Tom," I stopped, one leg out the car. "Bring me some more of your sketches to look at. I really liked them. The life drawing in particular."

It took me almost an hour going through my portfolio to pick out ten drawings that were not too raunchy to take for Jenni. I did wonder about two of them, as they were of the series I did with Ali of the two of us, but neither of them showed my cock erect and were only borderline erotic. I just hoped I was not recognizable.

I felt a small shiver of excitement as I slipped them into the folder for the next day, and told myself not to get carried away. Jenni was an employer, nothing more. She might be gorgeous and sexy, but an employer, and I was a professional.

Wednesday was even hotter and I stripped my tee shirt off early. By the time Jenni arrived home sweat was pouring down my neck and chest and my jeans were spotted with marks where I had dripped onto them.




Ali's Art Ch. 03



Jenni looked cool, as usual. She came over to see the progress I had made. The pool liner had been laid and was slowly filling with water from a hose. I had arranged natural stone around the edge and by mid-afternoon when it was full it would look a lot better.

Jenni nodded and said, "I like. Want some lunch?"

"Thanks."

She turned from the pool and looked me up and down. "I don't want to be personal, Tom, but would you like a shower before we eat?"

"You could bring it out here," I said. "I don't want to put you out."

"Not a problem. Come in and use our shower."

"You're sure?"

"I wouldn't offer if I wasn't, Tom." She touched me briefly on the arm and turned away.

I untied my boots and left them by the door, followed Jenni in. She led me through to the right, an area I had not seen before and tapped on a wooden door.

"Use the shower in here. I'm going to do the same, but there's another in our bedroom. Fifteen minutes?"

I nodded, went in a stripped off. There was no lock on the inside of the door, and I guess with just the two of them they probably didn't see the need. Besides, she knew I was in here, wasn't likely to blunder in.

The shower was large and gleaming and I wondered who kept the place looking so good. Maybe that was what Jenni did in the afternoons.

I kept the temperature low to cool me off and washed away the sweat and dirt from my morning exertion. I was rinsing my hair when the bathroom door did open.

"I'm not looking," Jenni said. "There's a couple of clean towels by the door."

I heard it shut again. My eyes had been closed to keep the shampoo out. I had no idea if Jenni had looked or not. If she had, I had been standing front on to the door and she would have had a good view. I mentally shrugged, finished rinsing and dried in the large white towels.

It felt wrong to pull my sweat-stained jeans back on, but I had no choice. But drew the line at my tee shirt, which was completely soaked. I hoped Jenni wouldn't mind me eating topless.

When I walked through to the kitchen she was putting plates on the table and was serving up pasta, warm and creamy. She wore another pair of shorts, different to the previous day, made from a jersey material that clung to her slim hips. Another silk top showed off her shoulders and cleavage, and again she appeared to have dispensed with a bra.

Despite the heat outside, the inside of the house was air-conditioned and cool. I assumed that was why I could see Jenni's nipples showing through the soft material of her top.

She looked at me as I sat, shirtless, and smiled. "I forgot you wouldn't have anything clean to wear. But you look good like that."

I smiled back and shrugged.

"Did you bring me any more sketches?"

I had put the folder on the counter and pushed it across to her. "They're what you asked for," I said, trying to get my excuse in early.

She flipped it open as she started to eat, took a long time over each sketch, even longer over some of them. I wasn't sure, but it looked like the peaks formed by her nipples grew a little more pronounced.

"God, Tom, you can really draw figures, can't you?"

"I hope so," I said.

"No, you can." She finished her pasta and turned to face me, feet tucked into the cross bars of the stool, legs parted. She leaned forward, putting her hands on her knees and the silk top gaped and gave me a view down between her swaying breasts. The thin material of her shorts had pulled tight between her thighs, and there was a hint of a mound pressing against them.

I sat up and looked past her shoulder. "I'd better get back to work," I said.

She glanced at her watch. "Take a little longer, Tom. I'm not going to report you to Dag. How about we start work on the drawing? Half an hour?"

"Now?"

"While you're still clean," she said, smiling.

"I guess that makes sense. Same place as yesterday? Trees behind?"

She nodded and brushed past me. She smelled fresh, of soap and a subtle perfume. Her blonde hair caught the sun as she opened the big double doors out from the kitchen and the light framed her as she stood, one leg lifted.

I followed her out, glad she had turned away. There was a definite bulge in my jeans.

She sat in the same position as yesterday, but I saw her wriggle and settle back, trying to relax into a more comfortable place.

I opened the new, larger art pad I had brought, sat in the same garden chair as the day before, and began to outline her face and shoulders.

"How do you want me to do this, Jenni? Head only, head and shoulders, head and upper body?"

"Head and shoulders," she said, trying to talk without moving. "Can you... uh, make it look like I've got nothing on top?"

"If you want," I said.

"Greg'd like that," she replied. "I can take this off if it helps," she added, moving to hold the bottom of her silk top.

"That's fine," I said, holding up my hand. "I assume you don't want to show your, uh, you know?"

She thought about it, then gave a tiny shake of her head. "I don't think so. But I want the top of them in, the swell, if you can do that? Just a little bit naughty."

I nodded. "I'll use my imagination."

She tried to suppress a smile and failed. "Just don't go imagining too much, will you?"

"I'll try. Now be still, please."

The light breeze caught her curls and tumbled them around her face, but I could work with that. The sun was behind her, framing her hair in a gold haze. I would try and catch that in the drawing.

When I sat back, satisfied with the first outline, Jenni relaxed and came over, perched on the same arm of the chair as yesterday.

I angled the pad so she could see. So far, just the outline of her face, a hint of her hair, her eyes, nose and mouth sketched in but only lightly. I had extended down to include her shoulders and the tops of her arms. The swell of her breasts were just captured. I had made them firmer, as though held in a bra, and accentuated the cleavage. The drawing was nowhere near finished, but I could see where to go, and I thought it was good.

"Wow..." Jenni said, "That's amazing, Tom."

"There's a lot to do yet."

She leaned across, pointing at parts, and her loose breasts pressed against my naked shoulder. I assumed she wasn't aware of what she was doing. "I like this bit here, you've caught my hair really well."

I closed the pad and stood up. "I'd better get back to work, Jenni. I'd much rather be doing this, but Dag'll kill me if I screw up."

She laughed and stood as well, facing me, looking up at me. It took all of my will power not to put my arms around her waist and pull her towards me. 

"I won't let that happen," she said. "See you later?" She turned and went back into the kitchen, and I returned to the pool.

While the water continued to fill I used the mini digger to position larger rocks around the outside and up on the mounds of top soil that had been built to one side. Tomorrow I would complete the pool and start on the other areas.

At six I tidied up and knocked on the door. Jenni answered almost at once, still dressed in the top and shorts, her feet bare. Sweat dripped down off my chin and onto my belly and she looked me over.

"Take a quick shower, Tom. I'll make some iced tea and we'll carry on. I washed your tee shirt too, it's in the bathroom."

"You didn't need to do that."

"I was washing anyway, it wasn't any trouble."

I went through to the bathroom, stripped and showered quickly, pulled my jeans back on and the freshly laundered tee shirt.

The kitchen was empty, but Jenni called, "Out here!" from beyond the doors and I walked through.

She was sitting on the bench, and had removed her top. She sat with it in her hands, held against her breasts, but as I came out she dropped it onto her lap and sat there exposed from the waist up. 

Her breasts were even more beautiful than I had imagined, full underneath and curving to up tilted nipples. Large light colored areola surrounded her nipples, very pale pink, hardly different from the skin surrounding them. Her nipples stood erect, and I again gave her the benefit of doubt and assumed it was because of the breeze on them.

"Is this OK, Tom? I know you said you'd use your imagination, but I thought..." She shrugged, and the effect the movement had on her breasts was distracting.

"I won't be drawing you topless, Jenni, you can cover up if you want..."

"D'you mind if I don't? It feels nice like this with the air on my skin."

I looked at her, into her eyes. She stared back at me, but I couldn't interpret what I saw there.

"OK," I said, all business, and picked up my sketch pad.

An hour later the drawing was half completed. Jenni got up, stretched enchantingly, then came over to the arm of my chair. She held her silk top against her front in a show of modesty, but had not pulled it on.

She leaned over, the side of her bare breast pressing against my shoulder, but at least now I had my tee shirt on. She studied the sketch, nodded. 

"Good, Tom. Maybe you should do me topless - I wonder if that would turn Greg on? What d'you think?"

"Me?"

"You," she said, pushing against me and smiling. "D'you think Greg would like a drawing of me with my boobs out?" She was being deliberately coarse in an attempt to lighten a tension that had grown between us.

"He's not dead, is he?" I asked.

She laughed. "Not so I've noticed."

"Then I think, yeah, he would be turned on."

"Mmm," she said, thinking.

"But I can't change this now," I said, "There's not enough space to add your... uh... your breasts."

For a moment she lowered her top and looked down at herself. "They're not that big," she said, then covered herself again.

"Not at all. But too big for the space I've got left."

She looked at the sketch. "I guess not. What about, you know, just a hint of nipple? Could you fit that in?"

I looked at the drawing and nodded. "If you're sure..."

"Greg'd like that."

"Are you sure about that, too, Jenni? I don't want him to think I've been ogling his topless wife while he's out."

"You're not ogling, are you, this is art."

"Sure," I said, "But will Greg know that?"

"Greg's a sweetheart," she said. "It'll be fine."

Finally she got up and pulled her top on, not bothering to turn away, giving me a last chance to watch as her full orbs swayed before being covered.

Thursday morning I woke to find the temperature had risen even more, so dispensed with my jeans and wore an old pair of running shorts. I packed an extra tee shirt, just in case, and didn't bother with lunch. Mom kissed me on the cheek as I went out the door, and waved as Dag drove us off.

Dag hung around a while, checking progress and nodding. "Good job, Tom," he said, and I was ridiculously pleased.

Greg left for work, and a little later Jenni followed.

Lunch time came around and I showered, ate a quick lunch and we went outside.

Jenni had changed into a bikini, and as she sat she untied the top and let it drop into her lap. Her skin was lightly tanned all over, not dark, and I wondered how she managed to get that consistent shade everywhere.

I opened my pad and started to work. Following Jenni's wishes I extended the sketch downwards, just catching a hint of her nipples at the bottom of the drawing. I made her nipples darker, so they stood out more on the paper, but showed only a hint of their hardness.

After an hour Jenni came over to the arm of my chair, letting her bikini top drop onto the grass. She sat close, her naked breast pressing against my shoulder. Her scent enclosed me, soap and perfume and a hint of sweat from sitting outside in the midday heat.

She spent a long time looking at the sketch. I felt the back of her hand resting against my forearm, lightly touching the dark hair there.

"It's almost finished, Tom," she said.

I nodded. "We'll finish up tomorrow, and I'll get it framed."

"I don't want anyone in town to see this," she said, sitting up. Her breasts jiggled.

"I'll do it myself," I said.

"Good." She stood and stretched again, showing me her slim round ass cupped in the small bikini briefs. Her legs were slightly parted, and there was a horizontal gap between her thighs and a hint of firmness pushing against the material. She turned and shook her hands through her hair. It must have been deliberate, I thought, displaying especially for me. Her breasts quivered. Her flat belly stretched down to the tiny briefs, and as my gaze drifted down I was shocked to see a small damp stain marking the front of them.

Fuck, I thought, I'm going to have to be very careful here.

"Let me get some clothes on, and I'll drive you home." Jenni went inside and I sat back in the chair, frowning. My cock was heavy inside my shorts and I made an effort to make it soften. The long ridge it formed was pretty obvious, and there was no way I wanted Jenni to see that.

I got up and wandered off into the woods, walked around until I was almost decent again.

Friday evening was as hot as the previous day. When Jenni came out in just her bikini shorts I let her sit on the bench and gently instructed her back into position. She stared off past my shoulder and I worked at adding the finishing touches to the sketch.

Before the hour was up I sat back and said, "OK. All done, I think."

Jenni stayed where she was, stretching her arms up, pointing her toes. When she lowered her arms she patted the cushion beside her. "Come here and show me, Tom."

I walked across, glad I had not gotten as excited as the previous day, and sat next to but apart from her. I turned the sketch pad to show her the completed drawing. I thought it was good, one of the best I had ever done.

Jenni wriggled across to look, even though she didn't really need to. Again, her breast pressed against my arm, lower down now because we were sitting at the same height. I could feel her nipple hard against my skin. Her bare leg pressed against mine, and I thought wearing shorts might have been a mistake. I could smell her scent again, the same as before, mingling clean and sweat and underlying it, faintly, I was sure I could smell sex. I glanced down. Yes, that tiny damp patch was there again.

I tried to interpret this as Jenni being turned on by the act of posing. Ali had told me it was not uncommon - people who were not used to it, displaying themselves, a hidden exhibitionism coming to the surface. I hoped that was it, Jenni turning herself on. But she did sit awfully close.

"Tom," she said softly, "This is wonderful. Thank you." She put her hand on top of mine. "Thank you so much."

She was pressed tight against me, breast and side and thigh and shin. I was very aware that she had only a tiny slip of material covering her. I was getting hard, and there was nothing I could do to hide the fact. The sketch pad hid most of my erection, but not all, and I could see it growing and pushing up against the thin material of the running shorts. I only hoped it wouldn't grow more and slip out of the leg, but it was a close call.

Jenni continued to lean against me, looking down at the drawing, or looking past it at the sign of my arousal, I'm not sure which. Her hand remained on the back of mine, warm and soft.

I didn't dare move or look towards her, because if she turned to me I knew I would have to kiss her. And after that, I had no idea...

I pulled myself away and stood up, closing the sketch pad and holding it over my groin.

"You'd better run me into town, Jenni, so I can get this framed up. I'll drop it off in the morning."

"No," she said, still sitting on the bench. "I don't want Greg to see you. I'll come over to your place first thing."

I nodded. "OK. Give me a call first." She had my cell phone number, had asked for it earlier in the week when we started sketching.

I turned away and moved around the side of the house, making a show of inspecting the landscaping, and waited as Jenni got dressed.

When she came out she had pulled on one of her silk tops, this one a dark cream, but still wore the pale blue bikini bottoms. A band of bare skin showed below the hem of the top and her bikini bottom. Smooth, lightly tanned skin. The bikini pants were miniscule, cut very low at the front, and she seemed unaware of the small curls of blonde pubic hair that peeked above the tight waistband.

Jenni drove into town and I sat beside her, both of us silent. The inside of the car was thick with pheromones, both mine and hers, and as we got closer to my house I came to a decision. 

Jenni wanted me, I was sure of that now. And I wanted her. I wanted to lose my virginity - late, but never mind. I wanted to fuck her, and if she was really willing, then I was going to do it.

As the decision washed through me I felt myself relax, and my cock began to soften. The tension drained out of my shoulders and I leaned back in my seat, put my arm out along the bench seat and rested it beside Jenni's shoulder. Her eyes flickered off the road, and I saw a tiny smile on her lips.

She pulled up in front of my house, leaned over for the now regular kiss. I turned towards her at the last moment and our lips met, briefly. She didn't pull away, didn't seem shocked.

"See you in the morning," I said, and climbed out.

Later that night, after I had framed the sketch and polished the glass over it, I showed it to Mom, who raised her eyebrows and looked at me.

"What?" I said.

She shook her head. "Nothing. It's very good. But be careful, Tommy."

"Mom!" I said.

She smiled and pulled me to her, giving me a long hug, kissed my ear. "Careful," she whispered.

I took the finished, framed sketch upstairs and stood it against the wall, lay on the bed and stared at it.

After a time I got up and stripped off my clothes and lay back on the bed.

As I continued to stare at the sketch I felt my cock stiffen and grow hard. I lowered my hand and circled it and began to stroke myself.

I knew I could continue for hours, if needed, by using the control I had, but I didn't want to do that, I wanted to cum quickly, and rubbed myself hard, staring, staring at the drawing, adding my own pictures of Jenni sitting in just her tiny bikini briefs, her large round breasts swaying gently as she moved.

My balls pulled tight and I let myself go, shot a solid stream of cum out over by belly, splashing onto my chest. I gasped and rubbed harder, shooting again, then again.

Slowly I relaxed, slumping back against my pillows, still staring at the drawing, wondering if I would really get to fuck Jenni Harris. I thought I would, and it felt strange. I was still a virgin, but I had seen and experienced things most people could only dream about. The process of losing my virginity almost seemed to be a side issue now. But I still wanted to do it, still wanted to fuck this beautiful woman who, I believed, I hoped, was offering herself to me.

Early Saturday I was still in bed, asleep, when Mom came in and shook me.

"Tom, Mrs. Harris is downstairs for you."

I rolled over and looked at her, trying to work out if the expression on her face was disapproval or amusement. I nodded and started to pull the bedcovers off, remembered I was still naked and looked at Mom again.

She laughed. "I've seen it all before, Tom, but if you want some privacy," and she went out the room.

Yeah, I thought, you might have seen it all before, but not when dried cum still crusted my belly and not when my cock was as big as it was now.

I pulled on an old pair of jeans and sweatshirt and went downstairs. Jenni was standing around in the hallway, looking nervous. She smiled at me and I held the mounted sketch towards her, wrapped in plain brown paper.

"All done," I said.

"Thanks." She took it, hung around, not ready to leave yet. "Have I upset your mother in some way, Tom?" she asked.

"Not as far as I know."




Ali's Art Ch. 03



"It's just, she was a bit odd with me."

"Don't worry about it. She's probably not woken up properly yet - it is very early."

Jenni bit her bottom lip and smiled apologetically. "Sorry. But I couldn't wait."

I smiled back and leaned over and pecked her on the cheek. She smiled up at me, turned her face to mine and I went back and kissed her lips, lingering for a moment.

"I hope Greg likes his present," I said.

She grinned. "He will." She turned away, stopped, "God, I nearly forgot!" She leaned the frame against the doorpost and pulled an envelope from her jeans pocket. "Payment for your services. Thanks."

I took the envelope, pushed it into my own jeans.

"I put a little extra in there, Tom," Jenni said, turning away.

After she had gone I padded through to our small kitchen, sat at the table and drank the mug of coffee Mom put down.

"She's very attractive," she said.

"Who, Jenni?"

"You know perfectly well who I mean."

I looked across the table at her. She didn't have her arms crossed, she wasn't frowning.

"Yeah," I said, "Very attractive. I know."

She looked at me for a while, then shook her head. "Do be careful, Tom. I can't tell you what to do and what not to do anymore, you're an adult. You're going to be nineteen in two months, you can make your own decisions. Just take care."

I leaned forward and put my hands over hers. She turned hers over, palms up, and gripped mine, rubbing her thumbs over the back of my hands.

"Mom, I'm not going to do anything stupid," I said, hoping she would believe me. I wondered if wanting to fuck Greg Harris's wife was stupid or not. No, I corrected myself, it was stupid. But I still wanted to do it.

Mom sighed, not sure what to do, then shook her head as though clearing it. "What are you doing today, Tom?"

"Nothing," I said. "I thought I'd fix that loose shutter out back, then maybe take Sarah to the Mall and catch a movie. You want to come, Mom? It'd do you good. You work too hard."

She smiled back at me. "You're a good boy, Tom. The best."

"Yeah, yeah," I said mockingly.

"You are," she insisted. "But I'll stay home. It's such a beautiful day I might just put my bikini on and lie out in the sun in the backyard."

"Wow," I said, "Pushing the boat out."

"It's what I really feel like doing," she replied, "A bit of 'me' time." She grinned suddenly. "In fact, after you've gone I'm going to run a bath, laze around in it till it goes cold, and I might even sunbathe in my birthday suit. No one can see out back." She laughed as she saw my mouth drop open, squeezed my hands tight.

"I'd better make a lot of noise coming in then," I said. "Don't want you shocking Sarah."

"What about you?"

"I take more shocking than that, Mom."

Her smiled softened. "I bet you do."

I remembered my promise. As I pulled our old Ford into the driveway I sounded the horn briefly. My eight year old sister Sarah giggled beside me. "Do it again, Tommy," she said.

"You do it," I said, and she leaned over and sounded the horn. I grabbed her little hand as she tried to do it again.

"Better not, honey, don't want the neighbors complaining."

We went inside, and I made a show of slamming the front door.

It was after six, and the sun has moved into the west, still warm but not hot anymore. Inside the house I could smell the aroma of bath salts and a hint of the good perfume Mom kept for special occasions. I steered Sarah into the kitchen and sat her down with a glass of milk and cookies, wandered through to the back to check Mom has got the message.

I saw her with her back to me, pulling her old towelling robe around her shoulders. For a brief second I had a glimpse of her naked back and the top curve of her buttocks, and realized what a sexy woman she was. She was thirty-eight, and had put effort into keeping her figure. I shook my head, wondering what the hell I was thinking of. Jenni Harris had a lot to answer for. I couldn't seem to get my mind off sex.

Mom turned and saw me in the door and smiled, pulling the robe closed around her and tugging the tie tight.

"Thanks for the warning," she said.

"Good afternoon?" 

She walked across to the back door and reached up to give me a hug. "Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. I think I dropped off for a couple of hours there."

"Just so long as none of the neighbors came round and saw you."

She grinned. "Can you imagine old Mr. Roberts catching me stark naked? He'd keel right over."

"But he'd die smiling," I said, hugging her back.

She stayed like that a while, curled up against me, warm from the sun, scented from her bath, the top of her head under my chin. I could feel her soft breasts pressing against my ribcage, her hip pushed against mine. I kept her there for a few minutes, enjoying the closeness. Mom and I had always gotten on well, but lately we had both been too busy to sit down and talk like we used to do. I could feel our relationship changing as she saw me as a man and not a kid. And, I had to admit, I was starting to see her as a woman, an attractive woman, and that thought bothered me.

"Tell you what," I said to the top of her head. "I'll go down to the store and rent a movie for us. After you've put Sarah to bed we'll chill out together and watch it. Drink a glass of wine or two. Something stupid and mindless, yeah?"

Mom tightened her hug around me. "That sounds way too self-indulgent, Tom. It's a deal."

I kissed the top of her head and eased myself out from her arms. "I'll go start a pizza for supper. You go get changed."

"I might just stay like this," she said.

"OK. Go sit down then, watch TV. Kick back."

She laughed. "God, Tom, why all this spoiling?"

"Because I love you Mom, and I want to spoil you. I'll be gone soon enough."

Her smile faded and she nodded. "Don't remind me."

She turned into the living room and I went back to the kitchen. Sarah and I talked about stupid stuff while I made the pizza. When it was ready Mom came through and joined us and I poured her a glass of white wine.

"Mommy," Sarah said, "Why don't you have any clothes on?"

Mom laughed. "I'm wearing my best robe, I'll have you know, young girl."

"But that's all!" Sarah said.

"I had a nice long bath, sweetheart, and couldn't be bothered to get dressed again after, that's all."

Sarah nodded seriously. "I thought you smelled nice," she said, and both Mom and I burst out laughing.

After supper Mom and Sarah went back to the living room to watch a cartoon, and I washed up the dishes and tidied everything away. When I came through they were just going upstairs.

"Sarah wants a bath as well," Mom said. "I'll tuck her in and come down for our movie."

"It's a date," I said.

I went into the hall, picked up the car keys and then decided I'd walk the half mile to the video store. I was just opening the front door when our telephone rang. I turned back and picked up.

"Graham residence."

"Tom, good, you're home," Jenni said. "Can you come over?"

"Now? To your place?"

"Yes now. Yes to my place. Greg's opened my present, and he wants to thank you personally. He's absolutely in love with it, Tom. Thank you."

"I dunno, Jenni," I said, "I kind of had something planned for tonight."

"Please," she begged, "Just for a half hour. Please please please..."

"Who's on the phone?" Mom called from upstairs.

I covered the mouthpiece. "Jenni Harris" I said. "She wants me to go over to her place for a half hour. Greg likes his present and wants to say thanks."

Mom came to the top of the stairs and looked down, an odd expression on her face, then she smiled. "Go, of course. We can catch up on that movie again. There's plenty of time before you go away, Tommy."

I looked at her, smooth bare legs showing under her robe, her face flushed from the sun. "I'd rather stay here with you," I said.

She shook her head. "Go and come back if you can. But you have to go - Greg Harris is important people in this town, you want to keep on his good side."

"Are you sure?"

She nodded. "Go now, then maybe you'll get back in time for a movie."

I lifted the receiver. "Fifteen minutes, Jenni?"

"Great! I'll tell Greg."

After I hung up I turned back to the stairs, but Mom had gone back to finish Sarah's bath. I picked up the car keys and pulled our Ford out into the road and drove east out of town.

I don't know why, but I hadn't expected a party to be in full swing. I pulled up at the end of a line of cars snaking down the long driveway, locked the car and walked up past Mercedes, BMWs, Lexus - even the American cars were all new. I hope no one would report our old clunker and have it towed away.

The front door was open, music and voices filtering out. I looked around before going inside. Thankfully most of my work was more or less finished at the front. The pond looked good, as though it had been there for years. The piles of soil were all covered with rock or plants. I nodded. Good enough.

Inside I brushed past people, most of whom I vaguely recognized. I tried the kitchen, no Jenni, no Greg. I tried the living room and the big conservatory at the back. Still no sign of them. I wandered outside and round the back. They were sitting together on the bench where I had drawn Jenni, heads together.

I stood away from them and coughed. Jenni glanced up and then jumped off the bench and ran across to me. She put her arms tight around me and hugged me, kissing me loudly on the mouth.

I saw Greg stand and come over, a big man, tall and broad, his dark features placid. As he came up to us he grinned and stuck his hand out. I offered mine and we shook, then he switched grip, pulled me in and bumped shoulders.

"Outstanding, Tom," he said. "I completely love what you've done. I've never seen Jenni more beautiful than in that drawing."

I shrugged, might have blushed. Greg released my hand and I flexed my fingers. Nothing broken. Jenni still had her arm through mine, pulling me tight against her side.

"We've been talking," Greg said, then looked at me and added, "You haven't got a drink. Jenni, get the man something. What's your poison, Tom?"

"A beer would be good."

"Just a beer?"

I nodded. Jenni released me, reluctantly it seemed, and Greg said, "Come sit down, I want to talk to you."

"OK," I said. I went to the chair I had used when I drew Jenni. Greg went back to the bench. He sat heavily, leaned forward with his arms on his thighs.

"I really am hugely grateful for what you did this week. It's changed Jenni, and I love the picture. Really love it. It's made me see her in a completely new light. You get in a rut, sometimes, yeah?"

I nodded, not really knowing what he was talking about.

"I'm seeing Jenni differently now, and it's thanks to you, Tom." I thought he was going to get up and come over to me again, but he seemed to change his mind and sat back. "I want to ask you something, Tom, and don't take this the wrong way."

Oh-oh, I thought.

"How much did Jenni pay for that drawing?"

"I can't tell you that, Greg. It was a present to you." I thought of the 'little extra' she had slipped in. The price had been $100 - more than enough, I had thought, but they were rich folks and I'd bumped my rate up. Inside the envelope Jenni had put twenty $10 bills.

He laughed. "Ah, it was worth a try. I want you to do me another one. At least another one. I was hoping to get an idea of how much it would cost me..." He looked across at me. The sun had dropped below the horizon now, but light still glowed in the sky. I wondered where Jenni was with my beer, hoping for rescue.

Greg breathed in, said, "OK. Here's the deal, Tom. Would you be willing to draw Jenni again, just like this week, but a bit more of her?"

"Full length?" I said.

"Yeah, full length. But... " For the first time ever I saw Greg looking embarrassed and lost for words. "I'm not sure how to say this, so I'll just come out with it. Could you draw her in the nude? A life study, is that the word?"

"You want your wife to..." I started, tailed off.

Greg held his hands up. "Yeah, I know it's weird, but after this first one, I would really love something more... uh... revealing. More explicit? You know what I mean?"

"I think so, Greg."

"So, what d'you think, Tom? How does five hundred bucks sound?"

"Five hundred!"

"OK, OK, give me a price then."

"No, Greg, five hundred is fine, more than fine."

Now Greg did stand and come across, his hand held out. I stood and he grabbed my hand, squeezed again. I squeezed back, knowing the game, knowing I had to match him at this. Luckily landscaping had built my muscles over the year and Greg nodded in approval.

"Good. That's settled. I'm going to be on the West Coast most of next week, but Jenni tells me you won't need me around for anything. I'll write you a check before you go."

"You can pay me when it's finished, Greg. I trust you."

He laughed. "Good. I trust you too, Tom. Jenni tells me you're a perfect gentleman."

"She's too kind," I said, as she came back to join us, handing me a cold beer. I guessed she had been standing in the kitchen, waiting for us to conclude business.

She went to Greg's side and put her arms around his big stomach, only just managing to clasp her hands together.

"Tom says he'll do it," Greg said.

Jenni smiled. "I knew he would." She looked at me around her husband and smiled. Something glittered in her eyes, something I didn't recognize.

Noise spilled from inside and someone shouted, "The bastard's out here! Hey, Greg, what kind of party is this when the birthday boy's hiding out here?"

Greg laughed and pulled himself out of his wife's arms. He slapped me on the shoulder. "Stick around, Tom, enjoy the party. I'll see you later." He lumbered off to join the crowd inside.

Jenni drifted over to me, smiled and touched my arm. Her face was shadowed as light leaked out of the sky.

"Did I just hear all that right, Jenni?" I said. "Your husband wants you to take your clothes off and pose for me?"

She nodded.

"And he's going to be out of town most of the week?"

She nodded again.

"And you told him he could trust me?"

She nodded again, slipping closer to me.

"I said yes to Greg, but I might need to think about this," I said.

She put her hand flat on my chest and leaned close. "There's nothing to think about, Tom. Greg's happy with the arrangement."

The arrangement?

"Greg really did like your sketch. And he really does want another one of me - in the nude... Can I tell you something, Tom, without shocking you?"

"I don't know," I said, "Try me."

"Greg and I, we don't... have sex much anymore. I still love him, I love him deeply, but he just doesn't need that physical side of things. But today, I saw a look in his eyes when he saw your sketch." She smiled sweetly, leaned close. "And this morning he tore my clothes off and fucked me till my brains shook. That was all your doing, Tom. Thank you."

She reached up and put her hand on the back of my neck and pulled me down against her mouth. I felt her lips part, but kept my own closed, even when I felt her tongue sneak out and explore.

Jenni dropped back down, continued to look up at me. "You do understand, don't you, Tom?"

"I'm not sure, Jenni. Honestly, I'm not sure. You might have to spell things out for me."

She cocked her head to one side, then smiled. "No, I don't believe I need to do that." She turned away, fragrant in a short patterned dress, her hair tied up and her long neck showing. "If I don't catch you before you leave, see you Monday," she said, and was gone.

I dropped back into the garden chair, pulled a long swallow from my beer and felt it slide down my throat.

There was more laughter from inside, voices of men and women shouting, glasses clinking, music filling in any gaps. I sat and finished my beer, stretching my legs out, gazing off into the pitch dark that pooled under the trees. Up above the stars were winking on in dozens and millions. I put my head back and stared up, sipping beer.

After ten minutes a shooting star cut across from the north-east, leaving a bright trail. I remember Mom telling me you could get a wish if you saw a shooting star, but I didn't make one. I couldn't decide if I wanted a wish or not. Yesterday I was completely ready, today everything was different. Greg was making me a gift of his wife, a temporary one, to be sure, that had been made clear. Did I want the gift? Would it turn out to have a bad side?

I pulled myself up and left my empty beer bottle on the grass, walked around front to my car.

Back home I went into the living room to find Mom asleep on the sofa, an empty bottle of wine on the table, a glass with a tiny amount left beside it. She was flat on her back, her legs splayed, parting her towelling robe which had tugged and pulled. I could see high up along her thighs, not quite to her pussy, but almost. The top had opened and one full breast lay open to the air, her skin pink from her session in the sun. Good breasts, I thought, good beasts even for a woman half her age.

I knelt down beside her and pulled the robe closed, sat her up and turned her round so her legs were on the floor. I shook her gently, holding her head where it lolled on her neck, and slowly her eyes blinked open.

She gave a lopsided smile. "Tommy. My Tommy. Did you get a movie?"

"I think you need bed more than a movie, Mom," I said.

She nodded. "Good idea, Tommy." She started to stand but her knees gave way and I had to grab her to stop her collapsing in a heap.

"Carry?" I said, echoing the words she and Dad used to say to me when I was small.

She nodded. "Carry," she agreed.

I put my hand under her legs and lifted, cradling her against me. She flopped onto my chest and the robe slipped open again.

"Fucking thing," she muttered, pawing at it, but I couldn't tell if she was trying to close or open it.

"Bed time, Mom," I said, and carried her upstairs.

I pulled the covers back and dropped her gently onto the clean sheets. I didn't know quite what to do with the robe, leave it on or take it off. She pre-empted any decision by sleepily wriggling her arms up out of it. They came free and the robe dropped down onto her stomach. She lay on her back, eyes lidded, her breasts heavy on her chest. Still firm, I thought, looking down.

"Take it off, Tommy. Don't wanna sleep in this fucking thing."

I bent over and tugged the tie, sat her up and slid the robe off her, cradled her back down onto the pillows. She would not, I hoped, remember any of this in the morning. Maybe that was why I stayed for a while looking at her, splayed naked below me, her light pubic hair tangled over her pussy, hiding her secrets. She mumbled and rolled onto her side, lifting her knees up. I pulled the covers over her and turned away.

"Kiss g'night, Tommy," she muttered.

"'Night Mom."

"Kiss," she repeated.

I turned back and leaned over. She rolled onto her back again, lifted a hand behind my head and pulled me down to her mouth. For the second time that night I kept my lips closed as a tongue came seeking entrance.

I grabbed her hand and gently drew it away from my neck, tucked the covers back over her breasts.

"Sleep well, Mom," I said.

"Stay, Tommy," she mumbled.

"G'night Mom." I really, really hoped she wouldn't remember this tomorrow.

Sunday passed quietly. Mom didn't come downstairs until after eleven. I had gotten Sarah up and given her breakfast, then walked her over to her friend Molly's to play. Overnight the small heat wave had broken. I had been woken at three a.m. by thunder and rain against the window. By the time I walked Sarah to her friends the clouds were blowning away and a sharp blue sky showed through the gaps.

I came back just as Mom was coming downstairs. She still hadn't dressed, pulling on the towelling robe again. She looked pale.




Ali's Art Ch. 03



"God, Tommy, how much did I drink last night?" She went into the kitchen and slumped in a chair. I poured her orange juice and put the glass in front of her.

"The whole bottle."

She shook her head and winced. "Too much."

I watched her for a moment. "You want anything to eat, Mom?"

She groaned.

"You gonna get dressed today, or you gonna go out and lie around nekkid again?"

She managed to raise a small smile. "You'd like that, yeah?"

"Like you said to me, Mom, nothing I ain't ever seen before."

She frowned. "You've never seen me naked, Tommy, have you?"

I laughed. "You told me you used to get in the bath with me when I was little, Mom. So I must have seen you naked."

She smiled. "Yeah. I forgot about that."

"And what were you wearing this morning when you woke up?"

She frowned, and I could see the wheels turning in her fuddled brain, then her mouth opened in a little O of surprise.

"Did you have to put me to bed, Tommy?" she asked, looking down at her hands, not wanting to meet my eyes.

"It's OK, Mom. You'd have done the same for me."

She continued looking down at her hands, then said quietly, "So you have seen me naked, I guess."

"I looked away, Mom," I said, lying.

"God Tommy, I'm a poor excuse for a mother."

I went around and put my arms around her, hugged her back against me and kissed the top of her head. "You're the best Mom anyone could have. Me and Sarah know that. You know that too."

I felt her shake her head, but she didn't say anything.

"You can go back to bed if you want," I said, releasing her. "I'm going out for a run. Sarah's over at Molly's till supper time. I'll pick her up and bring her home."

Mom reached out and fumbled my hand. "Thanks, Tommy. I think I might just go rest my eyes."

I poured her more juice and she took it back upstairs. I went to my own room and stripped off, looked down at the semi-aroused state of my cock. It seemed to have been like that all week. I debated whether to make myself cum, and decided it could wait. I pulled on a tank top and a pair of running shorts and went downstairs to find my trainers.

I opened the back door and went out into the cooler air of the yard, started doing stretches.

I noticed the window of Mom's bedroom was open, the glass catching the light and reflecting the edge of her bed. As I watched the reflection I saw a shape move in the glass and Mom lay back on the bed. The image was distorted, rippled, and I could only see her head and shoulders, but it looked like she'd discarded the robe again and was lying naked on the bottom sheet, the covers still thrown back.

I turned and bent over, laying my hands flat on the ground between my feet, repeated the move six times and straightened up.

I looked out over our tiny backyard, a few shrubs and plants growing up the fence, and couldn't help comparing it to the size of Jenni's place.

I stood for a while, enjoying the cool air on my skin, and gradually became aware of a noise coming down from Mom's room. I turned back, listening, glanced up at the open window. Mom's distorted image was moving. Her right shoulder was rocking to and fro. I could hear the springs on her old bed squeaking. I felt my mouth drop open, watched as Mom rolled her head to one side then the other. Her shoulders were shaking. I couldn't see her face clearly in the glass, but her eyes looked to be closed tight, her mouth open.

Mom was upstairs, bringing herself off.

I knew I should leave and go for my run, but couldn't move away. I stood there, watching the distorted reflection, listening to the gradually increasing tempo of the bedsprings. I don't know how long she took, five minutes or fifteen. All I knew was I was rooted to the spot, watching and listening until her movements turned into a wild rhythm, her mouth opened wide and the bedspring raised their pitch, stopped, started again and then died. Mom let out a high cry as her climax hit.

In the window, she slumped back onto the bed, rolled her head sideways and smiled. I moved quickly, ducking down behind the house. If I could see her in the reflection, she could probably see me too. I waited, listening, but there was no more sounds. I crept out through the house and closed the front door silently, started jogging down the road, heading for the edge of town.

Dag dropped me off at Jenni's place just before seven, as usual. Greg was about to leave, but this time he was wheeling a large suitcase. He stopped and came over to me, slapped me on the shoulder.

"You do a good job this week, Tom, OK?"

"Do my best," I nodded. "You leaving already?"

"Ten o'clock flight," he said. "And where did you get to Saturday? We looked for you but you'd gone."

"Commitments," I shrugged.

"I like a man who honors his commitments. Good man." He went back to his suitcase and wheeled it to the back of the car, lifted it into the trunk. With a wave, he was gone.

I turned to look at the next job waiting to be done. I was still there, hands on hips, when Jenni came out through the front door. She was wearing a short silk robe and her bare feet left trails across the damp grass.

"Hi Tom," she came up and lifted herself to kiss my cheek. Is this where it starts, I thought, so soon?

"You working today?" I asked.

"Usual times," she said. "You want lunch again?"

"You do cook a mean lunch," I said, and she grinned.

"We'll talk about this new picture Greg wants, yeah?"

"Sure," I said. "And you're OK with it?" I looked at her. She nodded.

"I wouldn't do it if I wasn't, not even for Greg."

"OK."

She hesitated, then kissed me again and turned away. I watched as her ass bounced around beneath the thin robe, watched her smooth legs scissoring the material between her thighs. I shook my head and tried to turn back to the work I had to finish.

Just before nine Jenni left for work.

Just after one she returned. I had worked hard for six hours. The weather was cooler, the wind turning more from the north, but I was still sweating, still streaked with soil. I had been planting out shrubs and some of the smaller trees, and was satisfied with my morning's efforts.

Jenni parked in the garage then came out, jacket over her shoulder, top three buttons loose.

"Shower?" she asked.

I nodded and followed her inside.

"You know the way," she said.

I padded along the oak floorboards in the hallway to the guest bathroom, stripped off, noticing there were no towels and stepped into the cubicle. I was soaping my back when Jenni stepped into the bathroom, two large white towels over her arm, nothing else on at all.

She looked at me, placed the towels carefully on the rack and walked across.

"Need a hand?" she asked.

"I can probably manage," I said.

Jenni glanced down. I knew I was getting hard. She watched me for a while, then looked back up.

"I thought, as you were going to be drawing me like this, you wouldn't mind if I came in..." she lifted her arms, showing me her nakedness.

I had seen some of her before, but not this. Her breasts moved when she dropped her arms, swaying from side to side. Her nipples looked peaked and aroused. Her flat belly swooped down to a prominent mound. Her pubic hair was untrimmed but sparse, as blonde as the hair on her head.

She put her hand on the shower door and slid it aside. Steam billowed out around her. She looked at me and then stepped inside, slid the door shut behind her.

She lifted her hands and placed them on my chest, trapped my hand under hers and turned it, removing the bar of soap.

"Turn round, I'll wash your back."

I turned. Jenni soaped her hands and slid them over my back, running them over my shoulders, down to my waist.

"You've got a really nice body, Tom, but I expect you know that."

"Not really. But thanks."

"D'you think I've got a nice body, Tom?"

I started at the wall and nodded. "You don't need to fish for compliments, Jenni. You have an outstanding body."

"Are you looking forward to drawing me?" I felt her move closer, a peaked nipple brush against my back. She slid her soaped hands around me, began to lather my stomach.

"Very much," I said. I leaned back against her as her hands slid down, reached my navel and then went on. Her fingers touched the top of my pubic hair and I felt them spread soap through them. Then she moved lower, teasingly moving down onto my thighs. I felt her knees touch the back of mine as she bent to wash up my legs from my knees. This time when she came back she went directly in and her small hand circled the base of my cock. Her soapy palm slid up along my length, hesitated half way up and then continued on.

I was rock hard now, and leaned further back, dropped my hand behind me and felt and found the round curve of her ass, pulled her against me, feeling the rough patch of her pubic hair pressing against my thigh.

"You've got a nice cock, Tom. Not as big as Greg's, but really nice."

A reply didn't seem required.

"You don't mind if I wash it like this, do you?"

"Is that what you're doing?"

I felt her head against my shoulder, nodding. "Only helping you out," she said.

"What about you?" I said.

"I showered before I came down."

"So you don't need any help," I said.

"It's all in hand," she said.

I started to turn around but she pushed my shoulder, keeping me where I was. Then she dropped her other hand and added it to the first, both working my slick cock, sliding down to cradle my balls, probing back between my legs, sliding up over my belly.

"I think I might be clean now," I said.

"Not yet," she murmured. "I think you need something else first, don't you?"

"Maybe..."

Water coursed down over my chest and belly, ran over her hands around my cock. I pulled down on the muscle behind my balls, felt the growing pressure subside. I smiled at the tiled wall. Let's see how long Jenni could keep this up for. Her hand speeded up, sure I was ready to cum, and I leaned against her, still holding her butt.

Minutes passed, and then she pressed, turning me this time. I moved around, my cock jutting out as her hands slid free. I put another hand down on her ass and pulled her against me, but she resisted, shaking her head.

She put her face against my chest. "I'm not going to let you fuck me, Tom. Not yet, anyway."

I said nothing, my heart fluttering in my chest. Jenni pushed my chest, pushed me back against the wet tiles so I was out of the shower spray and knelt in front of me. I reached down and touched her breasts, rolling their weight in my palms. She lifted an arm and brushed my hands aside.

"No," she said, not harshly, just a gentle instruction.

Then she leaned forward and became mute as her mouth opened and she slid the head of my cock between her lips. I had a flashback to Maggie in Ali's apartment, her mouth near my cock. This is what I thought she had been about to do, but she hadn't. Now, it was happening. This beautiful woman had a good length of my cock inside her mouth. It felt hot and very wet. Her tongue flickered and played around my glans, searching and probing inside the slit in the top. She grasped my ass and pulled me towards her, urging me inside. I allowed her mouth to accept me, allowed her to take as much as she wanted, which turned out to be a lot.

She slid back and then forward, her tongue darting into my urethra, tugging at the deep ridge. She let her fingers stray onto my ball sac, cupping it, stroking me.

Meanwhile her mouth continued to want more, continued to suck me inside. I felt myself bump up against the top of her throat, looked down and saw she had no gag reflex. Instead she opened her lips wider and pulled me into her, the top of my cock sliding into the tight upper entrance to her throat. I was blocking the passage of air, and after a short time she moved back out, continued to suck me hard.

"Jenni," I gasped.

She pulled back, looked up at me. "I want you to cum in my mouth, Tom. I want to taste your cum. I want you to fill my mouth with your cum."

I stared down at her, then nodded. She grinned and licked her lips, opened them and slid be back inside.

I felt for that muscle, back between my balls and my ass, and relaxed it. Now she could make me cum.

As if she felt my cock respond she increased her efforts, taking me deep again, sliding me out, wetting the entire length of my cock with her saliva.

I started to push my hips in and out, sliding my cock into her mouth and she muttered encouragement and held still so I could fuck her mouth.

I leaned forward and slapped my palms on the tiled wall above her, started to drive my cock into her mouth.

I pumped against her, feeling the pleasure grow, feeling it build, peak and overflow. I cried out and emptied myself into her mouth, the first blast a long stream that felt like it was coming from far back and deep inside. When she felt me fill her mouth she opened her throat and swallowed, at the same time holding my ball sac as it tightened.

I shot again, filling her once more, and then I felt my knees start to shake, tried to stay upright and lost the battle. My cock popped out of her mouth just as a third ejaculation burst, splashing over her lips and face. Jenni grabbed my cock with her free hand, rubbed it and tried to slip it back inside but I jetted again before she could manage and this time it shot between her lips and onto her tongue. I jerked, pulled back and sideways, came for the last time, splashing onto her shoulder.

Jenni continued rubbing me even as my cock softened.

"Mercy," I croaked, sliding down against the tile wall, sprawling on the floor, my legs spread around with her still kneeling in front of me.

Jenni looked at me, her tongue darting out and drawing in some of my cum that had splashed over her lips.

"Clean now, I think," she said.

"Wow," was all I could reply.

"Good blow job?"

"Best ever," I said.

"You've had a lot, I bet," she said, looking down at me, "Beautiful cock like that."

I looked at her, then said. "First time, Jenni."

Her eyes widened and she stared at me. "First... d'you mean to say... that was your first blow job?"

"Unless you count Patti Simmons putting just the tip in her mouth, yeah, and she sure as hell made sure I didn't cum in her mouth either."

"Why?" she said.

"I guess she didn't want me to."

Jenni slapped my leg. "Duh, no. How come you've never had a blow job before? You're good looking. You're old enough."

"Lack of opportunity, I guess."

"No way. You've had loads of ass, I bet."

"I wish," I said.

She looked at me for a while, then said, "And you have been fucked before...?"

I shook me head.

"Oh shit. Tom, I can't do this!"

"You can," I said.

"No. It has to be special, your first time."

"You are special, Jenni... you're beautiful."

"It should be someone you love, Tom, not a randy housewife who can't keep her hands to herself."

"I don't care about love, Jenni. But I do care about you. About making you happy."

"Tom..." she started then stopped, and I could see something like fear in her eyes.

I laughed softly. "It's OK, I'n not gonna fall in love with you, and I know this is just fun, that it doesn't mean that much. But Jenni, I would really like you to be the one, my first. Don't make a big thing out of it. Let's just see what happens."

The fear had receded a little, replaced by something else. Need? Lust? Or was that just me projecting.

I nodded, reached for her and she slapped me aside again. I frowned and she smiled at me. "Not yet, Tom..." she whispered.

I frowned at her, confused. She placed her hand around my cock again, stroking me, looking at her hand around my thickness. "Great cock," she whispered.

I lifted my leg and rested my knee against her waist, and this she allowed to stay while she continued to play with my soft cock. Then she pushed herself back on her heels and stood. I looked up at her, pussy lips displayed between her thighs. Her light bush was soaked and clung to her skin, exposing her to me.

"Get dressed and we'll eat. I want to talk about how we're going to do this new picture."

She turned and left the shower, patted herself dry and walked naked out of the bathroom. I pulled myself up, dried and pulled my jeans and the clean tee shirt on.

When I reached the kitchen Jenni had covered up, but only with the sheer silk robe she had worn that morning. The dark blue material shimmered and clung against every fold and curve of her figure in a very distracting way.

Chicken salad was laid out, and I guessed she must have prepared it earlier.

I sat on the stool and started to eat.

"Where's the best place to do this, Tom?" she asked.

"The drawing?"

She nodded. "Inside our out?"

"It's Greg's drawing, really," I said. "What would he prefer."

"I don't know."

I watched her trying to work it out, then I said, "Have you got a camera? Anything digital will do."

"Oh sure," she said. "We've got two or three. Hang on." She got up and went from the kitchen, taking her scent with her. I played with my salad, speared a piece of chicken and chewed it.

Jenni returned and put a compact Nikon on the workbench. I picked it up, turned it over.

"Any good?" she asked

"This is fine," I said. "How about if we try several places, several poses? I'll take quick pictures of each one, then we can load them onto your computer and you can pick which you prefer. You can go through them this afternoon while I'm working."

"You're working this afternoon?"

I laughed. "I've got a job to finish outside," I said. "I'll come back in at six."

Jenni gave a pout, and I laughed harder. "It's not gonna work, Jenni."

She pouted harder then grinned. "That's you frustrated for the rest of the week then, pal." But she was grinning, and I hoped she was kidding.

After we had finished eating I suggested we move around the house while I tried to find places that might make good backgrounds.

"Should I?" Jenni asked, putting her hands up to the neck of her robe.

"Go for it," I said, and she shucked the material off and draped it over a chair. She walked ahead of me, apparently unselfconscious and I followed, admiring the way her small ass jiggled with each step. Her back was narrow, her waist nipped. All over she was extremely slim - not thin, but toned - and muscle moved and slid beneath her skin in a delightful way.

She led me through to a large living room. I asked her to try various positions on the large leather couch, draped over the arm of a chair.

"Have you any idea why Greg's after - or you? Do you want this tasteful, sensual, or raunchy?"

Jenni grinned. "I guess sensual is the way to go. I think we're beyond tasteful, but I'm not sure Greg's ready for raunchy yet."

"Yet?" I said.

She grinned and changed position, lying back and opening her legs to expose her pussy to the camera. "I might be though."

"If you want sensual you can't open your legs that wide, Jenni."

She drew them together, lifted a knee and posed. I rattled off three shots and asked her to move.

In the living room my favorite was with her standing at the large picture window, looking out, her hand resting on the glass, her body half turned away so that only the side of one breast showed, her bush catching the light in a hazy glow.

Jenni led me on, deeper into the house. We stopped at a door and she led me into what I assumed was their bedroom. The bed alone looked bigger than my entire room at home. Jenni tried lounging back on the bed, but it was too french madame and neither of us could take it seriously, so I asked her to sit at the dressing table and caught her reflected in the mirror. Her entire back and the deep valley between her buttocks faced the camera, both breasts showing in the mirror. I liked that one.

Jenni led the way onwards, further back, and we came to a room lit with rippled light. A long, narrow swimming pool ran the full length of the house. Jenni walked to the edge and slid in, stroked down the pool. I took a number of shots of her back, more when she swam towards me, her breasts rippled with light in the water, more as she pulled herself out and water slid down over her breasts and belly. I asked her to stand in various places, near the tall narrow windows, looking back into the room. A few of the shots seemed good to me, and I liked the shimmering nature of the light.




Ali's Art Ch. 03



"Outside?" I asked her.

We walked back through the house and out the wide doors in the living room. We tried a couple of shots on the garden bench, but they didn't really work. Jenni led the way back into the woods, posed against various trees, front back and sides.

We went deeper, Jenni picking her feet carefully over the deadfall, looking out for insects and spiders. We moved further, coming to a tumble of rocks covered with dry moss.

I asked Jenni to try sitting and lying across the rocks, the moss cushioning her. She twisted and turned, assuming positions for me. I liked the way she lay across the stones, liked the contrast between her pale skin and the dark moss, liked the way the light dappled down onto her through the leaves. Jenni got more into posing as I moved quietly around her, the little compact Nikon silent as I took my shots. 

Jenni lay back on the moss, one leg stretched out, her toes only just touching the carpet of dried leaves. She put one arm up behind her head, wrapped it around the back of her neck. She slid her other arm down along her thigh, curling her fingers in below her pussy. I knelt and moved in front of her, took more shots. The light caught her uplifted breasts, shadowing them beneath. I could see her nipples had grown hard again and stood out a good inch from the puffy ring of skin about them.

I watched as she slid her hand up along her thigh and let a finger touch her pussy. I stopped breathing, holding the camera up, capturing more images.

Jenni moved her hand again and her fingers covered her pussy, arching down over her mound, and she dipped a finger in between her lips, inserted it and pulled it out, glistening with her juices. She was looking down at herself, then looked up at me and smiled.

I nodded, encouraging her on, aware that my cock was growing hard again.

Jenni's smile softened and she slid her middle finger back inside her pussy, began to slip it in and out. I could hear the slight noise it made as her pussy lips parted, as she delved into her oiled inner folds, could see the glistening on her knuckle as she drew the finger back out. She lifted her hand, spread the slippery fluid over the hard little nub of her clitoris. Her smiled took on a harder edge and she started to push two fingers inside. I sat back on my heels, snapping.

She looked into my eyes and said, "Fuck, I'm so wet, Tom."

"I can see," I said. I wanted to loose my cock from my jeans but didn't dare break the mood. I changed position, trying to get more comfortable.

"Did you mind when you couldn't fuck me earlier?"

"Whatever's OK with you, Jenni."

***

"You're not a normal kind of guy, are you, Tom?"

"I'm feeling pretty normal about now," I said.

"I'm not being fair, I know. But I love being turned on, not just being fucked, but being turned on, and I've been turned on all day. God, I'm soaking wet," she said again.

I watched as Jenni began to work herself seriously, two fingers opening her lips, drawing slippery juice out and spreading it on her clit. Her other hand slid up and started to stroke her breasts, pulling at her nipples, lifting to stroke her neck. She slid a finger inside her own mouth and pulled it out slick with saliva, swapped hands and put the fingers slick with her pussy juice into her mouth.

She was breathing hard, working herself close to a climax.

I sat quietly as she appeared to forget all about me, turning in on herself, concentrating on the pleasure building within herself. She rolled her breasts harder, pushed her fingers deep inside her pussy, her stomach drawing taut, her vertical belly button narrowing. Suddenly she started to moan and hiss, her hips began to tremble and then she plunged her fingers, three of them, then four, deep inside herself and jerked as she came. I let the camera capture each moment, capture the ecstacy that rolled through her. Her face contorted, twisted then relaxed. Her body followed, finally slumping onto the cushioning moss.

I waited, and slowly she started to come back to me, pulled herself up and gave a lop-sided grin.

"Too raunchy?" she asked.

"Maybe a little, yeah."

"Fuck, I needed that though."

"I'd have been happy to help out," I said.

"We've got all week yet, Tom. We don't need to rush anything yet." She sat up suddenly. "God, I've got to pee," she said.

She got up and ran a short way off, opened her legs and let loose a huge jet of piss. She had not turned away from me, maybe wanting to let me watch. I left the camera down by my side, but put my finger on the shutter button and let it run on auto. She gushed an enormous stream of piss out from between her legs, splashing across the dried leaves, splashing down onto her own feet and she giggled. Finally she stopped and gave a little shake, squatted down and let a few drips fall.

"I forgot all about that," she said. "After I cum, I'm always dying for a piss." She laughed. "Have I shocked you, Tom?"

"Not yet," I said, and she looked at me and smiled. I stood up, handed the camera to her. "Download these and decide which you want to use, Jenni. I'm really going to have to go back to work."

"D'you have to, Tom?"

"I do," I said.

She came across to me, pressed herself against me, soft breasts, warm belly, damp pussy. She put her hands up behind my head and pulled me down. This time, when her tongue came seeking I allowed my mouth to open, and slid my own tongue back into her mouth.

She pulled back, breathless, and pushed me away. "Go on then, before I do something I might regret."

I stared at her then burst out laughing. "You mean you haven't done that already?"

"Fuck off," she said, and I turned and went back to work.

I worked hard, sweating, ignoring the ache in my muscles, trying to block out the images of Jenni that kept pushing into my thoughts. I kept expecting her to come out, still naked, but when six o'clock rolled around I tidied up my tools and there was still no sign. I removed my boots and walked around the side of the house, in through the open living room doors.

"Jenni!" I called. Nothing.

I wandered deeper into the house, listening to its silence, then as I explored further heard a tapping from along the hallway and followed it. She was sitting in front of a large monitor, her robe back on, looking at the pictures I had taken.

"Decided yet?" I asked, and she jumped. I saw her pull her hand up from her lap, and thought I had probably caught her pleasuring herself again. I wondered if she had been doing that all afternoon, jilling herself, rushing for a pee, coming back to the picture and more arousal.

"Tom, I don't know," she looked flustered, confirming my suspicion. It seemed she didn't mind getting off in front of me, but felt guilty I had caught her doing it in secret.

I moved up and stood close behind her, determined not to let her off the hook this time. I stopped, the front of my heans pressing into her shoulder. I leaned over and took the mouse, started to scan through the photographs.

I was suprised at how many I had taken. Suprised too at how many were good.

"Is this for Greg or for you, Jenni?" I asked.

"Greg. I want something that will... excite him, turn him on. Something he's going to love and cherish."

"You said he liked the drawing of you outside. So outdoors?"

"Outdoors, I think, yeah," she said.

"I like these with you lying on the moss," I said.

She pushed her shoulder back at me and I felt the pressure against my leg. "Yeah, I like that one too. But what about the light? Can you catch that in a drawing?"

"I'm thinking of using oil pastels," I said. "It'll look more like a real painting, there'll be color as well as light and shade."

"Can you do that in time?" she asked.

"It'll be close. And I won't have time to let it harden off properly, so you'll need to get it fixed later on. I'll tell you where you can get that done."

"Can't you do it. Tom? I don't think I want anyone else seeing it."

"I'll try," I said. "It should just about be ready for fixing before I leave for college."

I scrolled through the photgraphs, dragged half a dozen onto the desktop.

"Look, these," I said, expanding each one in turn, went forward, stopped, moved back, forward again, back one. "This one?" I said.

She stared at it for a couple of minutes, placed her hand over mine on the mouse and I let her take command. She moved back and forward through the images, finally nodding. "Yeah, you're right. That's fantastic."

"Just as long as the weather holds."

"How long will it take?"

"Pastel sketch, out there? Longer than the last one. And I've got more to draw."

She nodded. "D'you want to start now?"

I glanced out through the window. The light was still good, the air warm. "If you're up for it," I said.

We walked back through the woods and Jenni slipped her robe off and positioned herself on the rocks. I went to her, touching her arm, her hip, her leg, moving her to the position I wanted.

"Is that comfortable?" I asked, when I was finished.

She nodded. "OK for a while, anyway."

"An hour," I said. I moved back, found an old tree stump in the right position and opened my art pad.

After ten minutes Jenni said she needed to stretch so I let he move, then got her back into position.

"Just one thing," I said, as I started to sketch again, "You're not allowed to touch yourself till the hour is up."

"Shit, she muttered, trying not to move her lips.

I laughed and carried on.

Just as the hour was dying, so was the light, and I told Jenni she could get up. She stood and twisted, raised her arms above her head. "God, I'm stiff," she said.

"How about a massage?" I said.

She looked at me. "You're a dark horse, Tom Graham. Any other skills I don't know about."

"Maybe," I said.

"Sounds good though. Come on," she grabbed my hand and pulled me back to the house, straight inside and through to her bedroom. She flopped down on the bed on her stomach, looked back at me and wriggled her little butt. "Ready," she grinned.

I laid my sketchpad aside and moved to the side of the bed. She was lying smack in the middle, and I had to kneel beside her to reach. I put my hands flat on her shoulders and pressed down, started to move them in circles, then raised my hands and dug my fingers into her muscles. She twitched and then sighed. I felt her arm reach back and pat my leg, her hand wrap around my thigh inside my jeans.

"You'd be more comfortable without these on," she muttered into the pillow.

I made no protest. I slid back off the bed and pulled my tee shirt off, opened my jeans and pulled them down, followed with my shorts before kneeling back on the bed. My cock stuck out hard and stiff and I made sure I kept it from touching Jenni. I returned my hands to her back and dug in again, working my way down her arms, along the deep valley that centred her back, down to her firm butt. I rolled her cheeks in my palms, pulling them apart to display her budded asshole. I moved down to her legs, started at her feet and worked back up.

I moved around so my head was down over her ass, stroking her legs, watching the damp slit between her legs. I could smell the musky scent roll up to meet me, and my cock ached, swinging as I worked.

Jenni lifted her arm, peered sideways and touched my leg. She laid her head on its side on the pillow, watching my cock move. Then she lifted her hand and grasped it, started to stroke me. 

"Cheating," I said.

"Not," she murmured.

"It is if you don't let me follow through." I bent and kissed the small of her back, traced my lips down over her buttocks.

"Have I been teasing you, Tom?" she asked.

"You know the answer to that."

She nodded. "Guess so. D'you want your reward now?"

"I get a reward?" I said.

She nodded again. "Oh yeah, you do." She rolled over, parting her legs and I dropped again and kissed her directly on her pussy. The smell and taste flooded my nose and mouth and I pushed her leg aside and slid my tongue deep inside her. She arched her back and pushed up against my mouth, then twisted and searched for my cock with her own mouth. I felt her breath warm, then the hot wetness of her mouth closed around me. I stroked myself into her mouth, holding back hard with my inner muscle, almost ready to explode.

I lifted Jenni's legs and pushed my face hard down against her, drove my tongue between the slick folds of her inner lips. She pushed back against me, rocking against my mouth. She was soaking between her legs, and I imagined her playing with herself all afternoon, not quite bringing herself off, waiting. Now she was ready, and I was suprised as she started to cum against my mouth, grinding up against me, crying out as she shook and trembled. My cock slid out of her mouth and lodged against her neck. I turned, moved, laid my cock down between her breasts, fucked the deep crease between them. Jenni jerked again, moved her head and kissed me high up on the inside of my thigh. I continued to pump against her breasts, continued to push my tongue into her soaking pussy and she jerked and came again for the second time in as many minutes.

I felt her hand on my hips, pushing me away.

"Stop," she gasped.

I lifted my head.

"Need to catch my breath. Stop a minute."

I slid sideways and lay on the bed, put a hand on her breast and stroked it. The mound wasa as full and soft as I imagined, her nipples hard pencils jutting out. She let me stroke them, as long as I was only lightly touching her. The moment I applied more pressure she grabbed my arm and stopped me.

"Need a minute," she said.

"Need a pee?" I asked.

She turned her hand and laughed, "Actually, I think I do. Hang on." She jumped up and ran through to the bathroom. I heard her piss loudly, then the tug of paper as she wiped. She ran back in and launched herself at the bed, landed with her head at my hips and rolled and pulled my hard cock straight into her mouth. I put my hand on the back of her head and stroked myself into her, pushing until she had to take me back into her throat again, then let her go and allowed her up for air.

I grabbed her under the arms and pulled her up, pulled her on top of me.

She lay across me, legs around my hips.

"I want to fuck you so badly," I said.

She looked down at my face, her eyes sparkling. "What are you waiting for, then?"

I grabbed her hips and lifted her, positioned her over my cock and lowered her down. I felt my aching head touch her pussy lips. I stared up into her eyes, and as I let her down onto my cock I saw her pupils flare, felt her full pussy lips part around me, opening, warm and slick inside. She wriggled, giving me further access, and I let her go and let her work me into her. Vaugely, in some small part of my head, I knew this was my first time, but it didn't feel that way. I felt in control, experienced, ready to make her cum again and again.

Jenni lifted up, stradlling me, and I slipped deeper. She rocked against me, her breasts swaying and trembling. I lifted my hands and grasped them, pulled on her nipples and she bit her bottom lip, lay back down and kissed me, sat up again and worked me harder, faster.

I put my hands around her waist, pulling and releasing her, pushing up inside her. I held back, determined to wait. I plunged into her, lifting myself up from the bed, lifting her up clear of the bed. Jenni's chest and neck were flushing, a bright bloom spreading.

"Fuck me, Tom," she whispered.

I ploughed into her, pulling her down to kiss her, pushing her back up, pumping deep into her, watching as her face became slack and she began to tremble.

"Oh fuck," she whispered, "I'm cumming again!" There was a small note of suprise in her voice, then she bucked and ground against me before going limp and lying down on my chest.

I was still hard inside her. I rolled her over so she was underneath, began to fuck her from above. She lifted her legs and wrapped them around my waist, put her arms around my shoulders and pulled herself against me, her light weight suspended off the bed, grasping me tight, her legs pulling my cock deep inside her pussy.

"Again," I said to her, looking into her eyes.

She stared up at me, almost afraid, and I continued to fuck her.

"Cum again," I said, and her pupils expanded, her eyes widened, and she gave herself over as another wave of pleasure soared through her. She clutched me with her legs, holding me hard, then pushed back against my chest.

"Mercy," she said.

"Not yet."

"Fuck Tom, are you ever gonna cum?"

"Not yet."

"I don't know if I can take much more," she said.

"Course you can." I pulled out and grabbed her hips, forced her over onto her stomach, then pulled her up onto her knees and placed myself back between her legs. I grabbed her knee and opened her wider, went down and licked her pussy from behind, licked up and along the crack of her ass and wettted her asshole. Then I climbed up tight behind her, took my cock and placed it against her pussy.

I held it there, teasing her, not moving, just parting her outer lips.

"Fuck me," she whispered into the pillow.

"What d'you want, Jenni?"

"Fuck me," she said louder.

I pushed, slipping two inches into her.

"Harder. Fuck me harder," she said, pushing back onto me.

I pressed and pushed and slid all the way inside and she gasped. I gripped her hips and worked against her, pumping deep in between her pussy walls. She was tight, slick and oiled, but tight around my thickness.

"Cum again," I said.

She nodded into the pillow. "You, Tom, you cum too, please..." There was a note of pleading in her voice.

"You want me to cum?"

She nodded.

"Where?" 

"In my pussy. Fuck me, Tom, fuck my pussy and fill me up. Please, Tom, please..."

I drove into her, harder and faster and she gasped. She was on the edge again, and I reached down inside myself and let that muscle relax. Instantly, I started to boil over. I ploughed into her, ramming myself as deep as I could go, hardly aware of her now, centered only on the growing pressure in my balls and cock. Jenni started to moan and tremble and she mumbled into the pillows words I couldn't hear.

My balls pulled tight and I felt the tension release along the length of my cock. I shot cum deep inside her, gushing a long hard jet that seemed to be one long flow, Jenni shouting into the pillow and bucking underneath me, wriggled and pulling and sliding and suddenly she dropped and I slid right out of her, still spurting and a huge jet splashed across her ass and back, spurted up as far as her shoulders. I grabbed my cock and rubbed, another jet forcing its way out and I splashed it across her ass and then put my cock directly on her pussy and spurted again, feeling my semen splash into her opening, then I pushed in after it, cumming again deep inside her.

We both collapsed, Jenni lying face down, me half sprawled across her, my cock now softening had pulled free and lay across her ass. I stroked her skin, rubbing some of my cum into the crack of her ass and stroked her pussy with my fingers. She reached around and grabbed my wrist.

"I think you'll kill me if you make me cum again," she said.

"Tomorrow then," I said, and she nodded.

Tuesday morning Dag walked around the site with me again, pointing out a couple of places that needed more work, but generally thought the job was good. After he left I heard the front door open and Jenni came out onto the dewed grass. She had the dark blue silk robe on, walked across to me and undid it, opened the front and pulled her naked body against me, pulled my head down and kissed me deeply.

"D'you always greet the help this way?" I said.

She nodded, kissed me again. I slid my hand around her back and cradled her waist.

"Sure is a good incentive," I said.

She smiled, said, "Lunch?", closed her robe up and went back inside.




Ali's Art Ch. 04



The summer seemed to last a long, long time and I threw myself into the hard physical labor of landscaping. Slowly July passed one long day after another, and then August arrived and I knew I would be leaving before the end of the month.

Returning home in the spring, I had given $200 to Mom, telling her that I had been sending sketches to Ali and she had sold them. Mom tried to give the money back, but I knew she needed it, and told her if she didn't want it then she should use it to buy something frivolous for herself, of something nice for Sarah. Over the rest of the summer I added a little extra from the balance to my regular contribution until it was all gone, and topped it up with most of the money I had made from the Harris drawings.

As my departure came closer Mom seemed to change when she was around me, treating me like an adult instead of a teenager, trusting me with the kind of things she had never done before. We even found ourselves sitting up late one evening after Sarah had gone to bed, lazing outside in the small yard with a bottle of beer each, while she told me she didn't think she needed men any more. She said she felt content as she was, and didn't want to risk any more pain or grief. As we spoke she reached her arm out and offered her hand and I took it in mine and we sat there side by side.

"But Mom," I said. "You're still young, and you're still attractive. There must be any number of men who would want to go out with you."

"But I don't want them, Tom. I've gotten used to it being me, and I'm happy like this."

"But you must have..." I started, then stopped. I had been feeling grown up, about to fly the nest, but realized I had been about to go too far.

"Must have what, Tom?" Mom asked.

"Nothing," I said.

"No Tom, it's alright, you can say what you want now, you know that." She squeezed my hand, still gripped in hers.

I took a deep breath. "Well, you must have needs, Mom. There's love, there's emotion, and then there's... you know..." I felt myself redden.

"You mean sex, Tom?" Mom said.

"I guess, yeah."

"That would be nice, yes," she said. "But I don't need a man for that. There are... other ways."

I looked across at her. She was staring out over the back yard, maybe deliberately avoiding my eyes, and I recalled the morning I had heard her masturbating in her room.

"I just don't like to think of you on your own, without someone around to help out," I said.

"I'm fine, Tom."

"You'll tell me if you aren't, won't you Mom?"

She turned to look at me and smiled strangely. "I'll make sure you know, Tom," she replied.

The sky darkened above us and insects began to sound. Eventually we got up, kissed goodnight and went to our rooms. As I lay in bed looking at the shadows on the ceiling I felt as if some seismic change had occurred, some hidden fault had shifted and I had moved from one place to another place, a new place. I just wasn't sure yet where that place was.

As the first week of August ended Ali called.

"Tom, can you get up here early?"

"Um, I guess, if I need to. Why?"

"The apartment's ready and it would be great if you could help move us in. And I want you to choose your own stuff."

"I can't afford much stuff, Al," I said.

"I can help out, you know that."

"I want to pay my own way," I said.

"And you will, Tom. You will. Can you come?"

"I'll talk to Mom. She might not want me to leave early. I'll call you in the morning."

But Mom said she didn't mind me leaving before I was due. I had finished working with Dag the previous week, and had planned two weeks at home doing nothing much before I traveled north. I called Ali back and said I'd be arriving late Wednesday evening. 

Before I left Mom took the three of us out for dinner. We didn't go anywhere up market, just a local restaurant, but it felt real nice to be a family for the night and we talked about things we all remembered, the good times we had shared, and didn't mention any of the hardships.

When we got home Sarah had fallen asleep in the back of the car and I lifted her out and carried her upstairs then Mom got her into her pj's and tucked her in. I went downstairs and locked up the doors and windows. I was standing looking out at the yard when Mom came down and put her arms around me from behind and hugged me tight. I was conscious of her large breasts pressing into my back, and felt bad when I started to become aroused.

"Follow your dreams, Tom," Mom whispered in my ear. Her breath was warm on my neck, and she smelled good after showering and applying a tiny amount of her good perfume for our evening out.

I turned round and put my arms behind her back, rested my chin on the top of her head.

"Are you going to be okay, Mom?"

I felt her nod. "Of course."

"If you need anything, you know where I am. Call me."

She nodded again. I hugged her tighter. "I'm going to miss you," I said.

"I'm going to miss you too," she answered, and lifted her face for a kiss. It was just the one, but her lips felt warm, and softer than I had ever felt them before, and it went on longer than any that had gone before. I felt Mom's lips part and her mouth open to me and then, before I did something I was going to regret, I pulled away.

She shivered and stepped back. "I think I'd better go to bed. G'night, Tom."

"Goodnight, Mom."

In the morning I packed my bag and walked to the bus stop. Mom offered to drive me to the Greyhound station but I told her to stay with Sarah.

Sarah cried and didn't want to let me go, and I had to disentangle myself from her and sit her on a chair. I could feel tears in my own eyes as well as I kissed Mom and strode away from the house. It was turning out to be far harder than I imagined, but I closed down my feelings and made myself continue walking away.

The bus trip was long and dull, and when I arrived in New York the light had faded from the sky but Ali was there again to meet me. She stood under the street lamp in blue jeans and the same blue denim shirt with pop studs, and my heart did all kinds of strange skips and jumps in my chest.

She hugged me, kissed me and took my arm, leading me away through the night. But only as far as another bus.

"Aren't we going to your place?" I asked.

"We are," she said. "Just not my old place."

I grinned. "When did you move in?"

"Now," she answered.

"What?"

She lifted her hand and jingled a bunch of keys, then took two of them off and passed them to me. "Yours," she said. "We're moving in now."

"What about furniture, stuff like that?"

"Fuck it," she said, "We can do all that in the morning. I just want us to move in now!"

The bus carried us through the night and deposited us half a block from our new front door.

I let Ali unlock the door and we walked in to the large empty space. Ali flicked a switch and lights came on in the high ceiling.

Sitting alone in the center of the room, the only furniture, was her old sofa, and I burst out laughing.

"But where are you going to sleep, Al?" I said.

"It's big enough," she replied.

She lifted the phone from the wall and dialled, ordered Chinese and gave our new address.

"I lied," she said. "I moved the sofa in this afternoon. There's wine in the fridge. The glasses are in that big cupboard beside the window."

I walked across the empty room, my boot heels echoing of the floor and walls, and tossed my bag into the empty bedroom we had decided was mine all those months ago. I came back out and opened the chilled bottle of Chablis and poured large measures for each of us.

Ali had made up the sofa with pillows at either end and a light blanket. I sat down and joined her there, passed her a glass.

"This feels so weird," I said, looking around at the vast space.

Ali smiled. "Good weird, though, don't you think?"

I nodded and smiled back. "Yeah, very good weird."

Ali jumped up suddenly and said, "I almost forgot, I bought you a moving in present." She went across to the kitchen and pulled something from a drawer.

"There was no need, Al," I said.

"It's not much, but I thought it was appropriate, for the start of your college life." She was grinning as she handed me a square box wrapped in gift paper. "Open it then," she said.

I tore the side off the paper and turned the box, reading the printing on the side, and laughed and also felt myself blushing as I removed the rest of the wrapping.

I held a box of 24 Durex Comfort XL condoms. "Uh, thanks, Al."

She laughed and lifted on tip toes. "I hope they're big enough. I seem to recall you're pretty large down there. And I didn't know if you'd have brought any and I thought," she shrugged, "I thought you might want some - if you get lucky."

"Thanks Al, this is very thoughtful," I said, reading the rest of what was on the side. I popped the lid and looked inside at the individually wrapped rubbers.

Ali sat back on the couch and leant against me, jostling me until I lifted my arm and let her slip underneath.

"You probably brought your own, anyway," she said.

"No, I didn't. And this is really nice, Al, thanks a lot."

"You have - you know - gotten laid before, haven't you?"

I didn't say anything.

Ali twisted and looked at me. God damn, why did she have to let her breasts press into my side like that, I thought.

"You've never gotten laid?" she said.

I nodded. "Got my bones hauled this summer," I said.

"Only this summer?" Ali laughed.

"Never seemed to get the opportunity before."

"But last time - you just seemed so, I don't know, so mature. When Maggie gave you that boob job, we both just thought you were... experienced."

"Afraid not," I said.

"Shit - you should have said. I know plenty girls who go for men. Plenty who'd go for you."

"That's a bit clinical, Al."

"Fuck clinical, Tom. Nothing clinical about getting laid. If I'd only known back then you were a virgin I would have fixed you up."

"Ah well..." I shrugged again and Al snuggled back down against me and I put my arm on her shoulder. "It's done now."

"Was it good?" Ali asked.

I laughed. "Some things are secret, Al."

"Not between us," she said.

I punched her in the side with my free hand and she hit me back and we ended up slapping and hitting each other as we both roared with laughter. Eventually Ali stopped with a strange look on her face and stood up.

"I'd better get some sleep, Tom, I'm going to have a busy day tomorrow if I'm going to find you a girlfriend."

She stood up and went into the bathroom. When she came out she had on just a bra and panties and she scooted me off and slid under the blanket at her end. I used the bathroom and came back out in my shorts, slid in at the other end. Our legs kept touching and there was no way we were going to avoid that, so I just rolled over so my back was to her and put my head on the pillow.

I lay there for a few minutes, incredibly aware of all the parts of me that were touching Ali, expecting to lie that way all night, but I must have been more tired than I thought because sleep suddenly rolled over me and I was gone.

I woke the next morning to find Ali had turned away from me during the night and I had turned towards her. Now I discovered my cock was rock hard and had slipped up through the elastic waist of my shorts and lay flat against my stomach. Ali's ass was pushed back against my thighs, fortunately separated from me by the thin material of her panties, and too far down for my erection to be sticking into her. For some reason my cock tingled, as though I had been rubbing it.

Slowly I straightened up and rolled over until I was facing the back of the sofa and started to breath slow and deep, practicing a yoga technique to calm myself, hoping it would work on my autonomic system and let my erection fade.

"Morning Tom," Ali murmured.

"Hi," I said. "Been awake long?"

"Only just," she said, and I felt her moving, sitting up and dropping her legs to the floor. "Coffee?"

"Love some."

I heard her bare feet padding across the wooden floor and rolled over onto my back and stared at the high ceiling. The windows had no drapes yet and sunshine flooded the room, shimmering on the ceiling where it was reflecting off the distant river. I listened as Ali clattered around in the kitchen, heard the coffee start to boil and then smelled toast.

Ali brought a plate with slices of buttered toast and two mugs of coffee back and put it all on the floor, then sat down on the blanket, pulling her legs up under her. She was still dressed in the too large tee-shirt and tiny panties she had slept in. The tee had a wide sloppy neck and hung down off one shoulder almost to her elbow.

"I've got a busy day planned, if that's alright with you Tom?"

I nodded and mumbled, "Sure" around a mouthful of toast.

"We need to get furniture picked and delivered, drapes for the windows, a table and chairs for the kitchen, a desk and a couple of computers, all kinds of stuff. The rest of the bits from my old place are coming over after lunch. If we get going we can finish the shopping by noon and then get back here and sort it all out.

"I'm not going to be able to contribute much, I'm afraid, Al," I said. "Money's going to be tight this year."

Ali laughed. "No it's not." She got up and went across to her coat hanging beside the door, came back with another brown envelope and dropped it on my stomach. "More sales," she said.

I picked the envelope up and looked inside. More bills. I started to leaf through it and Ali said, "A thousand dollars, Tom. Those drawings I did from out last session sold really well. That's only a small part of what we made. I've set $5,000 aside to get us up and running here. You okay with that?"

I shook my head in confusion, "Whatever you say, Al."

We dressed and walked arm in arm to the bus stop, went into the city center and worked the shops. We made our way to JCPenney's in the Newport Center and Ali and I picked beds, mattresses, and bedding. We both chose metal bedframes. Mine was plain and functional, Ali's more feminine. Then we moved floors and chose towels, drapes, a plain timber table and chairs for the kitchen, two more sofas which made up into double beds for the living room. I tried not to look shocked when everything was rung up and I saw what the bill came to. Ali hardly blinked and paid on her credit card.

"Entertainment," she said as we walked away. "D'you want to pick a TV?"

"I don't think I'd watch one," I said. "Would you?"

She shook her head. "Music then. Something small and stylish? And then a couple of laptops."

"Al," I said, "How the hell are you going to afford all this?"

"I told you, I sold some of those sketches from our last session. I've got even more I haven't finished yet. Tom, there's a huge market for this material. The money is not going to be an issue."

"As long as you're sure of that," I said.

She smiled. "Oh, I'm sure. What are your I.T. skills like, Tom?"

"Okay, I guess. I got an A in computer science, and I play around a bit."

"Could you create a website for us? What would you need?"

"I don't know. Just a computer to start with. I'll research it and find out what else we might want."

We turned left, into electronics.

We carried two new Mac laptops home with us, unpacking them at the store and buying two bags for them and leaving the boxes there. It had just turned one o'clock so we grabbed burgers from MacDonald's and caught the bus home. It felt strange when I thought of that - going home.

Ali left me to set up the laptops while she let in the removal men and directed them where she needed the stuff from her old apartment. Fortunately Ali had ordered broadband as well with the phone connection so I sat cross-legged on the floor and googled until I found a service that would let me create an "adult" website. There was a thirty day free trial and then it would cost $495 a year, including payment processing and all the space we would need for our images. I wasn't entirely sure if what we were planning to offer would be classified as adult - I knew Ali considered it as erotic rather than adult, and I agreed that we weren't offering the same type of material as most sites. Ours would offer our own hand-produced drawings only.

Ali and I had talked about what she wanted during the morning, and she planned to sell downloadable drawings for between $5 and $25, with an option to purchase the original for anything up to $100. Once an original was bought it would be removed from the site and replaced with another original. We would also offer a service where individuals could purchase drawings that had not been shown on the website or commission work which had been specified by them. With this last option we always reserved the right to veto any requests, and made it clear that only legal material would be accepted.

I signed up for the free trial and began to look at the pre-defined templates on offer. Eventually, I would probably want to create my own, but to begin with I chose a template which presented a subtle pale blue and grey look and feel. We had both decided we did not want to be garish or in your face with our offering, and were willing to sacrifice visitors to attract a more discerning clientele.

Ali came over and touched my shoulder and I looked up at her and winced. My back ached from being bent over the screen, and when I looked at the wall clock I realized I had been working for three hours solid.

"You can move to the desk now, Tom. But take a break first. I've made some food."

I became aware of the aroma of fresh cooking. Ali had laid two places at our new dining table, and when I glanced around the space had been transformed without me having noticed. The two new sofas had been placed opposite Ali's old one. A new, enormous desk was pushed up against the wall. Ali had set a printer and her laptop up already, and I rose stiffly and carried mine across and plugged it in to recharge the battery.

The food was perfect, light and fragrant, and Ali poured a good Sauvignon Blanc for us both. When we had finished and cleared up, Ali took me down to the studio area and turned on the lights. She had laid out over a hundred sketches across the large floor area.

"Let's go through these and pick which ones we want to upload now, which we want to hold back, and whether there are any we can't use."

"Are these all of them?" I asked.

Ali shook her head, "Just the first batch. I've got three times this many but there was no room to lay them out."

I walked along the floor, looking down at the drawings. They were good. Ali had a special talent that captured the figures - our figures, hers alone, or mine alone, and a few with Maggie and Ali and Maggie and me together - and instilled a real sense of life to them.

I stopped to study a series of over a dozen which showed me during that first session, which seemed a long time ago now. A couple were standard nudes. The remainder showed me in an increasing state of arousal. Next to them were twenty that tracked the progress of my masturbation at the end of that sitting. The last ten captured my moment of release.

I sensed Ali standing beside me and turned to her.

"What d'you think?" she asked.

"Amazing." I said. "But it's weird looking at a drawing of myself, particularly in that state."

"Does it turn you on?" she asked.

I shook my head. "I don't know... a bit maybe, yeah. But that's because it's me. Let me see..." I stepped along the row of drawings, walked around to a second line where Ali was shown. These looked different and I stepped back, compared them and then said, "I drew these?"

Ali nodded. "They're the work you did here, and the ones you sent me after you went home."

I remembered them. Ali had posted me prints of her photographs and I had hidden them under my bed. When I was alone I copied some to art paper. When I had a dozen I packaged them up and sent them to Ali. I had sent four packages in all, and then brought the original photographs back with me. They were not the kind of thing I would have wanted Mom to find.




Ali's Art Ch. 04



"They're nowhere near as good as yours," I said.

Ali laughed. "I've been doing this for way longer than you, Tom. I think they're very good. And what I also like is that they're different to mine. We need variety."

I bent to look closely at one of her drawings. In the bottom right hand corner Ali had signed each one. She had written 'aligra' in a tiny elegant script.

"Is that how you sign them all?" I asked, looking back up at her. She stood with her ankles and arms crossed, watching me.

She nodded. "You should always sign your work. What are you going to put on yours?"

I laughed. "I think tomgra sounds clunky, yeah?"

She laughed back. "It does a bit. Think about it. Something short, not too awkward. Even tg would be okay, but take your time."

I sat back on my heels and rolled my shoulders. "So what are we going to do, scan all these in and upload them?"

"I think we should start with these and see how it goes. D'you want me to scan them?"

"Sure. Let me know when they're ready and I'll upload them to the site. It's more or less live now. We've got credit card processing and an area for thumbnails, and people can view a full screen image if they want. I'll splash a sample watermark over them all once they're scanned."

We both slept in our new beds that night, and I smiled as I pulled open the drawer in my nightstand and dropped my box of condoms in. I thought I was going to lie awake a long time, thinking about what my new life was turning into, but I barely remembered my head hitting the pillows and the next thing I knew it was morning and I could hear music coming through from next door, Chilli Peppers singing about some bridge.

I pulled on my jeans and went through. Ali was sitting at the desk peering at the laptop.

"What's up, girl?" I said.

"Come here Tom, we've made our first sales."

"Hey," I said, and pulled a chair up next to her. She had the admin panel of our website open and it showed we had sold fifteen drawings in the last twelve hours. And that was overnight. We have made just over $100 dollars in ten hours. As I watched the screen refreshed and the number went up to seventeen.

"Fuck," Ali whispered, "it's working, Tom, it's fucking working!"

She turned and hugged me, and I realized she was still in her thin robe and her loose breasts flattened against my bare chest in a delightful way.

We ate breakfast and then Ali said she needed to get some exercise and was going to the local pool. She wanted to know if I was coming.

"I'm not sure if I packed my trunks, Al, and if I did I think they're pretty old."

"It's not the Olympics, Tom, you'll be fine. I'll race you. And I bet I can beat you as well."

"Yeah? We'll see about that." I went in search of my old speedos and discovered I had packed them.

The pool was full length, and at this time of the day on a midweek morning was quiet. I don't know why it is but guys always manage to get changed way quicker than girls, and so I was already in the pool when Ali came out. She had a one piece costume on that hugged her body tightly, cut high above her hips, and she looked stunning. She walked to the edge of the pool and dived in a single movement, surfacing a few feet away from me.

"How about that race then, Tom, or have you chickened out?"

"No way," I said.

We swam to the top of the pool and turned side by side.

"Ready?" Ali said.

"Ready," I nodded.

"Three - two-"

"Hey, not fair!" I yelled as she pushed off and I followed as quickly as I could.

I hadn't swum for a while, not since leaving school, but I had been pretty good back then, and didn't think Ali had a chance of really beating me, but four lengths in I wasn't so sure. She had an effortless style that moved her rapidly and smoothly through the water, cutting its resistance, and I had to work hard to get even close to her.

As I drew near enough for her to hear I said, "How many lengths?"

"Ten," she said, hardly out of breath.

"Ten!"

"Yeah... only ten." And she seemed to step up and gear and pulled away from me.

I did the best I could, but as I drifted and touched the end of the pool for the tenth time Ali was leaning back against the side hardly out of breath. She had beaten me by a quarter length and there had been nothing I could do about it.

"My God, Al, where did you learn to swim like that?"

"I've no idea," she laughed. "It's just something I've always been able to do."

"I'm going to have to practice," I said.

She smiled. "Suits me. I love swimming, love the way the water feels as it runs over my body, the way it supports me. I think I should have been a dolphin."

"Do dolphins have tits?" I asked.

She slapped me on the shoulder and then looked past me as someone else drifted up to the pool side.

I turned to look, trying not to make it obvious, as a slim blonde woman touched the side and stopped. She was breathing gently and smiled at us both.

"Quiet this morning, huh?" she said, then pushed off and moved down the pool with a slow crawl.

After she had gone far enough Ali leaned over to me, touching my shoulder with hers, and whispered, "Is she after you or me, d'you think?"

"Maybe she's just enjoying a swim."

"Nah, she's after sex," Ali said. "You wouldn't believe how easy it is to get laid here if you want to."

"Really?" My pool experience was more or less limited to school competitions, and I had definitely not wanted to get laid by any of the guys on my swim team.

"Let's just stay here, see what happens when she gets back." She pushed me away from her. "Leave about then feet between us, Tom, and see who she ends up closer to."

We watched as she started back up the pool. I could see only the top of her head, short blonde hair, and slim shoulders. What I had seen when she stopped before had looked good. But what if it was me? Did I want this, so soon?

The woman stretched her arms out in front of her as she came near and drifted the last yards to touch the pool side then dropped her legs and stood up, running her hands back over her hair to squeeze the water out. It also had the effect I guess she desired in showing off her nicely shaped breasts and flat stomach. She wore a small bikini that was cut on the top to show a lot of cleavage, and on the bottom to show a lot of ass.

She turned and leaned back against the side, two thirds between Ali and I, closer to me than my cousin. I glanced across and saw Ali grinning, safe because the woman was not looking in her direction at all. Ali nodded wildly at me and made rude gripping movements with her hands.

"You swim pretty well," I said.

The woman looked towards me, as though just noticing me. "Why thanks. It's really good exercise. I come here two or three times a week. Helps me keep my weight down." She smiled.

I deliberately looked down over her body, taking in the full breasts and slim stomach. "You're doing a pretty good job of that," I said.

"Why thank you." She smiled more widely and moved towards me a little. "You look like you work out a bit yourself." Her gaze lingered on my chest, drifted down my stomach and then deliberately found my crotch. My cock had filled a little as we spoke and made my trunks looked pretty packed.

I noticed her left hand and said, "You're married. Does your husband ever come with you as well?"

She sank down into the water, taking the opportunity to move across again. Her shoulder lightly brushed against my side.

"No - he's always too busy. And he's out of town at the moment anyway. He's often out of town."

"Yeah?" I said. "That's a shame." I stretched my arms out along the edge of the pool. My inner arm touched the back of her shoulders and I could feel cold wet hair against my inner elbow.

"Not really," she said, and she put her head back against my arm. Her drifting legs brushed against mine, moved away and then came back and stayed touching me.

I saw Ali push off into the water and stroke away down the pool.

"Your girlfriend?" The question was deliberately light.

"My cousin," I said. "We're both at college here and we share an apartment."

"Nice girl," she said. "What are you studying? Oh, I'm Alice by the way. Alice Bolton."

I held out my hand and shook her wet one. "I'm Tom Graham. I'm studying Art." I had been about to say I was just going to start studying, but I thought she might be put off if she knew I was only nineteen.

"Art, wow, great. I'm really into modern art. I've got some nice pieces at home I've built up - nothing special, but I like them."

"Really?" I said, and then thought 'go for it!' "I'd like to see them sometime."

"You would?"

"Sure. I'm always interested in people's collections."

"Well I'm free all day if you want to come round. Unless you've got anything on."

I opened my arms to show her. "Do I look like I've got anything on?"

She laughed, a touch of nervousness in there, and I felt her press against me, her right breast pushing into my side.

"Tell you what," I said, chancing it, "I'll tell Ali something's come up and meet you outside in, what, ten, fifteen minutes?"

"That would be great. I'll even make you some lunch if you want to hang around."

I smiled and pushed off from the side, swam down to where Ali was floating at the far end.

She raised an eyebrow as I pulled up beside her. "Well?"

"I think I could be about to get laid," I said.

"I knew it. They'll be dropping like flies around you. Got your rubbers?"

I laughed. "I actually went back before we left and put a couple in my wallet. Talk about wishful thinking, huh?"

"Seems to have worked." Ali pulled herself over and kissed me on the lips. "Be good," she whispered.

I was standing outside fifteen minutes later when Alice came through the automatic doors dressed in a short sleeved white cotton blouse and russet colored skirt. Her legs were bare and smooth, her hair still damp as though she hadn't taken long enough to dry it.

She tripped across and kissed me on the cheek. "Ready?"

"Sure."

She led the way across to her car and I walked behind, enjoying the way her ass wiggled inside the dress. She opened the car with her remote. It was one of those small foreign sports cars and I slid down into the low seat and buckled in.

Alice started the engine and entered the quiet traffic going west. She found the on ramp to the freeway and put her foot down until we were doing almost seventy, drove in silence for ten miles and then dropped down into a residential district. Five minutes later she pulled into a garage which opened automatically as we approached and closed behind us as we entered.

I had been watching her legs as she drove, the skirt riding up on her thighs, enjoying the slim tautness of them. I was hard in my pants and made no move to hide the bulge there, and once or twice caught Alice glancing down at it. The inside of the small car was ripe with the scents of both our arousal, and I wondered how long it was going to take.

As it turned out, it took no time at all.

As Alice turned off the engine she turned towards me and I leaned over and kissed her mouth. She opened her lips and my tongue entered her mouth and hers came back to meet it. I put a hand over her breast and squeezed and she kissed me harder then pulled away.

"Come inside," she said breathlessly and I climbed out and followed her.

As we entered her kitchen through the side entrance I came up behind her and slid both hands around to cup her breasts, pressed my hard cock against her firm ass and kissed her on the neck. She wriggled back against me and I dropped one hand and lifted her skirt, pushed in through the side of her tiny panties and found her wet pussy. She was soaking and groaned as my fingers dipped into her.

"Upstairs," she said, "Let's go upstairs."

I kissed her earlobe and said, "Don't you want to show me your paintings first?"

"Fuck the paintings," she said.

"Yeah," I said. "I'd rather fuck you instead."

"Oh God yes, Tom, fuck me!" She took my hand and led me through to a wide hallway, up the stairs and I took the opportunity to push my hand up inside her skirt and squeeze her ass and she slapped me away and drew me into the bedroom, slamming the door behind us.

She dropped to her knees in front of me and twisted the button at my waistband and then slid my zipper down, pushed her hands inside my pants and tugged them down. My cock was forming an enormous tent in my shorts and where the head pressed a large damp stain had grown.

Alice ran her hands over it through the cotton, then tugged at my shorts and freed my cock. It jerked upwards above vertical, hard and stiff, the head large and purple. Alice gripped it in her small hand and stroked me from base to tip.

"God Tom, you're fucking enormous. I've never seen a cock as big as yours."

There wasn't really much I could say to that, so I just kept quiet as she stroke me some more and then dropped her head and licked my glans. When her tongue had wet all around me she popped me into her mouth and started to suck me deep inside. She was not as adept as Jenni had been and could only take a little over half my length, but her mouth was warm and tight and her tongue very willing. I rocked my hips, fucking her mouth, and keeping my magic muscle clamped down hard to stop myself shooting into her immediately.

Eventually she popped me out and licked my balls and I took her under the arms and lifted her up and pushed her back onto the bed. Her skirt rode up and I followed it, pushing it up over her hips to reveal her tiny panties which were now completely transparent where she had leaked against them. I grabbed them and tugged them down, slid them off her legs and dropped them, then went back up and pushed my tongue straight inside her pussy. She gasped and opened her legs wide, lifting them onto my shoulders and I pushed deeper with my tongue. Her outer labia was shaved or waxed, above she had left a neatly trimmed triangle. 

I let my saliva drip onto her already soaking pussy, pushed my tongue inside her, worked it over her inner and outer lips, sucked on the hard nub of her clitoris and kept working her without mercy until she started to shake and then she cried out and I pushed hard into her with my tongue as she climaxed. She continued jerking against my face for a minute and then relaxed back with a huge sigh.

"That was amazing, Tom. You really know what you're doing, don't you?"

I smiled and said nothing. If only she knew.

I pulled my tee shirt over my head and moved up to straddle her chest and let her know I wanted my cock in her mouth again. She opened her lips and I slid myself inside, leant forward on my arms and began to steadily fuck her mouth. I was still on the point of cumming, still on the point of holding it back, enjoying the violation of Alice.

When I almost reached the point of not being able to hold back any more I pulled myself out of her mouth and unbuttoned her blouse. She wriggled out of it and unclipped her bra herself and lay back down, now fully naked. She had a good body, high firm breasts with large dark nipples.

"I'm going to fuck you now, Alice," I said.

"Mm, yes please."

"Tell me how you like being fucked. Tell me what you want me to do."

She smiled.

"You can tell me anything you want, Alice. I'm here to please you, no-one else. Tell me how you really like to be fucked."

Her smile grew wider and she rolled over and got onto her knees.

"Fuck me like this, Tom," she said. "Stick your cock inside my pussy."

I leaned back and pulled my wallet out of my pants and took one of the wrapped condoms out.

Alice looked at it and said, "I'm on the pill, you don't need that."

"You sure? You trust me to be safe?"

"I want your naked cock in my cunt, Tom. Fuck me hard in my cunt." She was getting off on talking dirty to me, getting off on letting me know what she wanted.

I dropped the unwrapped condom and positioned myself between her legs. She had a gorgeous ass and before I did any more I leaned down and ran my tongue right up along the valley between her cheeks, right over her asshole and she squealed and jumped.

Then I straightened up and pushed the head of my cock onto her pussy lips and she put her head down and lifted her ass and I pressed again and slid inside her.

"Fuck me Tom," she muttered into the pillow, "Fuck my tight cunt with that big cock."

And she was tight. I had to push hard to get inside, but she was so slick with her own juices there was plenty of lubrication and I forced myself deeper, pushed until I could go no further, bumping up inside her. She moaned and lifted her hips higher and I gripped her hard hips bones and began to thrust in and out, working hard and quickly, filling her with my hardness.

Alice began to make harsh grunting noises each time I pushed forward and I sensed she was close to cumming a second time and I speeded my rhythm, pounding into her as she grew louder, filling her completely on each stroke until she shouted "Fuck!" once very loudly and spasmed underneath me, shaking and crying out unintelligibly and then slowly collapsing onto her stomach with my cock still buried deep in her pussy.

She was breathing hard underneath me and I took a little mercy and stopped moving as her back heaved. Sweat had popped out over her back and I licked it off with my tongue.

"You're a fucking animal," she said. "How the fuck have you not cum yet?" She tried to roll around to look at me but couldn't move far with my weight still on her ass.

"D'you want me to cum, Alice?" I asked.

She nodded. "I want you to cum."

"Where, Alice?"

"Tell me, Tom. Tell me where you want to cum. Anywhere except my ass."

Shame, I thought, then said, "On your face."

"I'd like that," she said, and twisted again and this time I slid back out of her and she rolled over. I climbed back along her, knees under her arms, cock against her chin and I let her hold me and pop me just inside her lips.

I leaned against the bedhead and took my weight on my arms and toes and began to fuck her mouth. This time I was ready and released that tiny muscle and instantly felt my balls tighten up. I was almost on the point of no return now and pushed my cock deeper between her lips until she started to gag and pushed against my chest and I drew back and pulled out of her mouth and sat back. Alice put both hands around my cock and began to rub me hard. I looked down and watched, this pretty blonde woman, her tits pressed down under my thighs, her face flushed and streaked with sweat, her hands a blur on my cock, and let myself go.

The juices pooled and boiled and I shot an enormous rope of semen out as I gave a loud grunt. It soared over Alice, missing her completely, and splashed on the wooden headboard. Alice tried to guide me, opening her mouth and pointing me towards her and my second stream shot directly between her lips and filled her mouth, then more came and it splashed on her face covering her from forehead to chin, more splashed on her nose and ear, another smaller jet that splashed her neck, a final one that dripped down into the valley of her cleavage.

She continued to rub me more slowly now, squeezing the last drops from me, and then lifted herself and sucked me inside her mouth again, sucking the final drops from my cock.

I sank back on my heels and then rolled away, lay spent on the bed and watched as she spread my cum over her face and neck and breasts with her fingers.

I rolled back and kissed her on the mouth, tasting my own cum on her lips and not being disgusted, in fact getting a little more aroused.

"That was amazing," I said.

She pushed me back and then rolled on top of me, kissed me back. "You were amazing," she said.

"We were amazing," I said, and we both laughed.

She was as good as her word, making me lunch, which we ate in the kitchen without getting dressed, and then afterwards we fucked again and this time I let myself cum inside her.




Ali's Art Ch. 04



We showered together and got carried away and I fucked her from behind standing up in the shower and then after I was dressed she walked me to the door in her housecoat and kissed me. Outside the day was starting to fade but the pink clouds reflected light down into the streets.

At the door Alice said, "Tom, that was truly wonderful. But I don't want you to think I make a habit out of this kind of thing. And I don't want you to think that you owe me anything."

I smiled. "I'm cool," I said. "If you see me at the pool, and you want a repeat, just let me know. Otherwise, I'm cool." I repeated.

"Thanks," she said, then for no apparent reason added, "My husband's not a bad man, and I do love him, but he's not very exciting in bed, and sometimes I just need to - well, you know."

"There's nothing wrong with that," I said. "You're a beautiful woman. You've got needs."

"Hm," she said.

I kissed her again and went out through the door, expecting never to meet Alice again, and I was right.

I walked down the road to a bus stop and made my way back to the apartment and went through to the studio and began to sketch out some of the images I had stored away in my head.

After a while I heard Ali come in and she was with someone, their voices low. I stayed where I was and continued working. When I finally straightened up and eased my back muscles Ali and whoever she was with had gone to bed. The clock said 2 a.m. and I staggered through to my own room and collapsed on top of the covers.

I was woken some time the following morning by Ali shaking me. I rolled over still fully dressed and stared blearily at her sitting on the side of my bed. She looked like she had only just risen herself and was dressed in her cream robe. A fresh mug of coffee steamed in her hand and another sat on the nightstand.

"Morning Al," I mumbled.

"Well?" she said, raising her eyebrows.

"What?"

She put her coffee down and then thumped me on the chest. "Did you get laid?"

"Oh, that. Yeah, of course I did."

A big grin formed on her face. "You dog!" she said.

"Yeah, we did doggy too."

She punched me again, this time harder and I slapped her back. She punched he on the shoulder and I grabbed her and rolled her over me. She might be fast in the pool but in a trial of strength I had her beat every time. I held her down and straddled her with my legs, holding her arms tight to her sides with her knees, and then started to slap her on the shoulders.

She wriggled madly and I gripped her tighter and as she wriggled some more, laughing, her robe got tangled and fell open and I found myself sitting on her naked breasts. I rolled off and sat back against my pillows. Ali stayed where she was, still laughing, and made no sudden move to cover herself up. I guessed she thought I had already seen it all and there was not much point. It still aroused me though and I tugged at my shorts to ease my cock.

Ali watched me and grinned. "Getting you hot there, cousin?" she laughed.

"Nothing to do with you, I don't go for dykes, you know that."

"Oh yeah, of course, I was forgetting. So these don't do anything for you then?" She cupped her stunning boobs in her palms and jiggled them. I stared at her, taking pleasure in the way they shook and danced.

"Not a thing," I said. "Maybe you ought to go and show them to your girlfriend next door."

She cackled. "I might just go and do that. At least she'd appreciate them." She removed her hands and pulled her robe closed. "But seriously, Tom, you did get laid, yeah?"

I nodded.

"It was good? What was she like?"

"You want the details?"

Ali shrugged. "Curious, that's all. If you don't want to tell me that's fine." She made a show of pouting.

"I did some drawings when I came in. You can see what it was like from them."

"Really? Hang on." She bounced up off the bed and ran through. A minute later she came back shuffling she sheets of art paper and plopped down beside me again. That damn robe floated up and exposed most of her thighs as she lay back against my pillows, elbowing me aside to give her space. If it rose much more her pussy would be in clear view.

Ali started to work through the ten sketches I had done, nodding, spending a couple of minutes on each one. When she had finished she said, "Wow, she's hot, isn't she?"

"Nice body," I said.

"Nice ass, nice tits," Ali said. "Nice pussy too. Were her pussy lips really as plump as that?"

"Slight exaggeration," I said. "But she was really tight."

Ali laughed. "She would be. That's some equipment you've got down there, Tom. I don't think you realize what a weapon you've got."

"I'm learning though," I said.

"She liked it from behind, did she?" Ali asked.

"Begged me for it," I said. 

"And this one," Ali showed me my sketch where I straddled Alice's breasts. I had drawn it as I ejaculated directly into her mouth, artistic licence allowing me to show my cum sliding from her lips and falling onto her chest.

"I made her do that," I said, "She didn't want to but I thought she deserved it."

"Bastard," Ali said.

"I know," I said.

"You going to see her again?"

"I doubt it. She was just horny and I was what she used to scratch the itch. Not that I'm complaining."

"Good sketches," Ali said. "I think we'll upload these later on."

We both heard the sound of footsteps in the living room and Ali called out, "In here, Flis!"

A tall black girl pushed the door open and looked in, then jumped back when she realized I was in there. She was naked and lifted a hand to her large breasts, dropped another to cover her pussy.

"It's okay," Ali said, "Tom's an artist, he's seen it all, and anyway he's not into girls." She nudged me with her elbow.

"He might have seen it all, but he ain't seen mine," the girl said.

Ali sighed and pulled herself up, wriggled the robe back down so it fell to above her knees. "I'll come through now. Coffee?"

"No, I've got to run. Had a call, my boss needs me to pull an extra shift, so I'll see you, yeah?," Flis said.

Ali walked across to her, put her arm on her shoulder and they went out. I could hear their voices as they went into Ali's bedroom. Five minutes later Flis, fully dressed, passed the door, Ali behind her. More muttered conversation, then our apartment door closing and Ali came back and pushed me across and sat on my bed, ankles crossed, as though that was where she belonged.

"Everything OK?" I asked.

"Don't think I'll be seeing her again," Ali said.

"Shame. She seemed nice."

Ali looked at me and poked her tongue out. "Just because she had huge tits, she looked nice?"

I shrugged. "It's a start. What was she like?"

Ali laughed. "Huge tits. Nice ass. Lousy fuck."

"Really?"

"Like a plank of wood. Didn't even make me cum."

"What about her?"

Ali turned her head and looked at me. "No details," she said.

"I was only curious," I said.

"I bet." Ali wriggled down the bed a bit, pulled at my sheet and pushed her legs down underneath it. "I was hoping for a second chance this morning though. God, she's left me fucking horny!"

I laughed. "Well, I can't help out there, I'm afraid."

Ali gave me a funny look. "Guess not." She continued to look at me, studying my chest and shoulders, glancing down at my belly. The sheet had pulled down around my waist as she tried to get underneath it, still hiding my cock which was still heavy from earlier thoughts.

"What?" I said, self conscious at her study.

"I'm just trying to see what these women see in you, Tom." She continued looking, looking hard.

"I've probably got that covered," I said, joking.

"No - I've seen that. Can't be that they like. But..." she reached her hand out towards me, stopped with her fingers a couple of inches away from my chest. "Can I touch you? Is that OK?"

"If you want," I said.

She extended her reach, put her palm flat against my chest. If I'd been a girl she would be holding my right breast. Her skin felt warm against mine. She left her hand where it was for half a minute, then moved it, gently feeling the muscles under my skin, tracing the lines around my chest and up to my shoulder.

"I don't think I've ever seen a man with such a great body, Tom. Do you even know what you look like? What you feel like?"

I shrugged, momentarily dislodging her hand but she immediately put it back against the curve of my shoulder.

"I was always weedy, Al. All through High School I was the nerdy one, the geek. I guess I've bulked up a bit working last year, that's all it is."

"Genetics," she said, continuing to stroke my skin. Her touch was fairly firm and I could feel her pressing and probing, finding the underlying musculature and bones. "You Mom's got good genes. She's hot. Well, I think she's hot."

"She's OK, I guess."

Ali shook her head, pushing her fingers in around my collarbone, tracing how it ran. "No, she's more than OK. She's hot. I'd fuck her, I can tell you that."

"Al!" I said, shocked, at the same time wondering if I was being hypocritical. I could have probably fucked my mother at the end of summer. I knew I had wanted to.

"What? Can't a girl fantasize? She's a babe. I'd love to fuck her."

"She's your aunt," I said.

Ali looked suddenly serious. "I can tell you anything, can't I, Tom?"

I looked back at her. "Of course you can, Al."

She nodded, as though she knew that all along. "I used to have a real crush on your Mom."

"You did?" I swallowed, fascinated and turned on.

"God yeah. How old was I when I went back home? Twelve? I was just coming into puberty, and my hormones were in overdrive, and I thought your Mom was the most gorgeous creature walking the earth." Her face had gone dreamy as she relived those times. "I used to try and cop a look every chance I got. You know your Mom, she's not worried about showing herself too much. I used to see her in the bath. Sometimes we'd talk for ages when she was in the bath, and I always managed to get a good look. She's got great tits, your Mom."

"Really," I said.

Ali laughed softly. "You never noticed? Great tits. World class tits. Are they still as good? I've not seen her for... what, four years now?"

I nodded. "I guess."

"Still good? Thought so. Then when I went back home I missed her like mad. Used to write her love letters. Never sent them, of course, but for a twelve, thirteen year old they were pretty steamy I can tell you. I used to look forward to the summer when you all came out to visit."

"I thought you looked forward to seeing me," I said.

"Oh I did, Tom, really I did," she reached down, took my hand and held it in her, lifting it to her breast. The back of my hand rested against the round curve, and I don't think she realized what she was doing.

"It's OK, Al, I understand. Sex conquers all, yeah?"

She glanced at me and nodded. "I guess."

"Was that when you knew you were gay?" I asked.

"I think so."

"You used to fantasize... about you and Mom?"

Ali nodded.

"Hot stuff?"

She nodded again. "Pretty hot, yeah."

"You were growing up," I said.

She nodded a third time. "Oh yeah..." and sighed, then said, "But I did look forward to seeing you too, Tom, really I did. We'd been so close, closer than I'd ever been to anyone. We still are, I think, aren't we?"

"I like to think so," I said.

"We are," Ali said with certainty. "I used to look forward to you both coming. Used to enjoy seeing how much I could tease you."

"Tease me?"

She laughed. "I knew you were looking at my boobs, Tom. D'you think I didn't know that?"

"Me? Looking at your boobs? I don't know what you're talking about."

She laughed harder, rolling up, then suddenly pulled her robe open to reveal her perfect breasts. "There you go, Tom. Still fascinated?"

"Seen 'em already," I said, feigning indifference.

"Oh yeah, of course. Once is enough, I guess," and she covered herself up again. Instead of slipping under the covers again she turned on her side and put her palm back on my chest.

I stared at her. She was feeling under the pads of muscles on my chest, finding my ribs underneath and tracing them.

"You've never touched them though, have you? I know you want to fuck me."

My heart suddenly fluttered, and I wondered if Ali could feel it racing under her palm.

"But I'm not going to," I said. "I like you too much." I almost said love you too much, but something stopped me.

"I like you to, Tom. I like our relationship, like I can tease you."

"I don't want things to change, Al," I said, serious now.

"I know. And they won't. But a girl can play, can't she?" And she gave a wicked grin and said. "Lie down and let me finish studying you, Tom. I'm really enjoying this. I've never touched a man like this before, I'm finding all kind of things out about your anatomy."

I stayed where I was, frozen. Ali's fingers had reached the top of my stomach. She moved suddenly, throwing the sheet back and then grabbing my ankles and pulling me hard so I slid down the bed to lie on my back. My shorts rode up around my balls. My almost fully erect cock showing clearly through the thin cotton.

Ali looked at the bulge and sighed. "You do get turned on a lot, don't you, Tom?"

"I'm not the only one who's got good genes, Al. What do you expect?"

She laughed softly. "You don't mind my games, do you, Tom?"

"Do I look like I mind?"

"Does it frustrate you?"

I nodded. "But in a good kind of way. I like the... the tension."

"Know what you mean," she said, then, "Can I take these off? I need to study you. Purely scientific."

"You're the doctor," I said, and she slipped her fingers into the waistband of my shorts and tugged them down.

I was determined not to help, and lay where I was as she pulled hard, trying to work them down as they caught under my ass.

"Help me here, Tom," she said. My pubic hair was now exposed, a faint arc of the base of my cock, pushed down by my shorts.

"Why?"

She gave me a look that could have burned toast and sighed. She pushed me with her hand, rolling me sideways, tugging my shorts down, then rolled me the other way and they slid down onto my thighs. My cock was bent down and trapped, but my shorts were loose now and she grabbed them and tugged them off my ankles. My cock slapped free onto my belly and Ali laughed and watched it quivering.

"That always fascinates me," she said. "I've never been turned on by a cock before, but you're something else."

"My cock turns you on?" I teased.

"I didn't say that. I said it was fascinating."

"That's OK then."

Ali sat on her heels on the end of the bed, her robe tugged and pulled, displaying most of one long thigh, the upper curve of her left breast.

She put her hands around my ankle and lifted my foot, started to probe my toes with her fingers, wiggling them, feeling in between, finding the bones and joints. There was a look of complete concentration on her beautiful face and I lay there watching her, the way her long russet hair curled over her shoulders, the way her full mouth was tweaked to one side as she studied me. 

So clinical was her attention that it became asexual, and as she moved along my foot, tracing the lines of bones there, my cock began to soften. How the hell that happened I have no idea, but I saw it lose its rigidity and ease down onto my belly where it lay, still half engorged, occasionally twitching.

Ali reached my ankle bones, then worked up my shin. She wobbled the patella in my knees, felt around underneath and then moved to my thighs.

"You've got a lot of muscle, Tom, but it's not bulky, is it."

"You tell me, you're doing the examination."

She laughed. "Trust me, it's not. You're not like a woman, but you're not a jock either. You're more like a dancer."

"Except I'm not gay," I said.

"Oh, letting your preconceptions show now. Not all male dancers are gay."

"OK. Just most of them?"

She shrugged. "Maybe most of them."

She reached my hips, deliberately, it seemed, avoiding what lay between my legs, and kneaded her fingers against the jutting bones, probing in hard to find where muscle joined. I jumped as she dug her fingers in too far and she whispered, "Sorry."

Then she moved over to my belly, lightly traced the blocks of muscle and I saw her move her fingers, counting.

"Six pack?" she said.

"I've never noticed."

She put her fingers on each muscle ridge and counted again. "Yeah, six pack. I guess it's the way the muscles are made."

She put her fingertip inside my navel and wriggled it around, then continued up, looking at my ribs again. As she moved up she placed one knee in between my thighs, the other against my hip. The silk material of her robe brushed against my skin and I felt my cock stiffen again.

Ali spent two minutes on my chest, feeling where the muscle lay, finding its thickness and extent. She touched my nipples and I saw them harden under her fingers and she laughed.

"Not just girls that happens to, then," she said.

"Seems not."

She traced around them and the feeling was exquisite.

Finally she moved away, followed my neck to my jawline, pushed my head one way then the other, gripped my chin and rocked it from side to side, studying the way my joints moved and muscles stretched. Then she moved back to my hands and worked her way up my arm, lifting each one in turn and studying beneath them. She tugged lightly at the patches of hair growing in my underarms.

"Why don't men shave under here, but always expect a woman to?" she asked.

"Never thought about it. You could let yours grow if you want to."

"Yuck," Ali said. "No way! Would you shave under your arms?"

"Don't see why not," I said. "Never occurred to me."

She bent down and parted the sparse hair under there, looking at the skin beneath.

"It would look good with bare skin," she said softly.

"OK then, I'll do it for you," I said.

She glanced up, grinned. "No. I'll do it for you. Hang on," and she bounced off the bed and went into the bathroom between our rooms, came back in a moment with my razor, shaving bowl and brush and a small scissors.

"Arms up," she said, and I looked at her and lifted both arms so they were exposed.

Ali climbed back on the bed, resumed her position, her left knee resting high up on my thigh. She clipped away the bulk of the hair with the scissors, then she lathered up the brush and worked on each armpit in turn, scraping with the razor, wiping the hair away as it gathered. She took almost five minutes on each armpit, and when she was finished she ran the razor one last time over the bare skin and sat back. Her ass lay against my knee her bare skin separated only by the silk.

She leaned back forward, putting the razor on the nightstand, and ran her fingers over my newly exposed skin.

"That's nice," she said.

"Glad you approve."

She nodded, sat back and looked at me. "You're not very hairy, really, are you?" she said, putting a hand on my chest where the skin was smooth. A few hairs curled around my nipples, but my belly was clear. My pubic hair formed a thinning line towards my navel and then stopped. Ali traced it, running her fingers down but stopping before she reached my cock. I could see her thinking, and thought I knew what about, but then she jumped up and pushed me hard.

"Haven't done your back yet," she said, and rolled me over.

She started at my feet again, working up, reached my ass and traced the muscle there, digging her fingers deep, moved to my waist, my spine, my shoulders. As she reached the back on my neck she was straddling me, leaning forward and I could feel the loose peaks of her breasts pressing and dancing on my back. She rocked my head again, two fingers on my spine, feeling the way it moved.

Then she moved back down, slid a hand inside my thigh and pulled my leg aside, tugged it again, parting my thighs and opening the crack of my ass.




Ali's Art Ch. 04



"I thought I'd save the best for last," Ali said.

"What?"

"You didn't think I was going to avoid down here, did you?" she said.

"I was wondering," I said. Then, "Al, can I do this to you afterwards?"

"Sure," she said, casually.

She sat on my ankles and I felt her fingertips on my ass cheeks. She pulled them apart and air brushed against my asshole and I felt myself pucker.

"Nice clean ass," Ali said.

"Oh good."

"You're hairy along here though," she said, and ran her finger directly down along the crack of my ass, letting her finger brush over my asshole and then drift to the back of my balls. She reached up and retrieved the razor and I felt her sliding it against the inner crack of my ass. A couple of minutes later she said, "Better."

Then she put her finger directly on my asshole, not pressing, just letting it lie there. She wriggled it, let it lay. A minute passed.

"What's it like when I touch you there, Tom?"

I shrugged.

She leaned over, pressing her breasts to my back again so her head was close to mine. "Truth, Tom, I want to know." She sat back, put her fingertip back on my asshole.

I lay for a while, thinking about it, then said, "Feels good, Al."

"Yeah?"

I nodded.

"I know I like having my ass touched. It's incredibly sensitive, one of my major erogenous zones. Maybe you're the same. We are related, after all."

"You hadn't forgotten then?" I said.

"Forgotten?" Ali said, then realized what I meant and laughed. "D'you think this is inappropriate behaviour for first cousins, Tom?"

"Probably."

"Shall we stop?"

"D'you want to stop?"

"No."

"Then let's not."

Ali finally moved her finger off my asshole, but the exquisite torture continued as she slid it down to my balls.

"Kneel, Tom," she said, and I obeyed, lifting myself up, resting my head on my arms on the bed. My balls hung down in front of her, completely exposed, and I felt her hand wrap around them, weigh them, then her fingers start to trace where they merged into my thighs, the sensitive area between their base and my asshole. I twitched and jerked as she found a couple of particularly sensitive spots and heard her laugh.

"OK, all done here. Turn over and lie down."

I obeyed and she put her hand around my cock. I was rock hard again. She pushed me to one side, back the other, pushed me down against my thigh and looked at the base, brushed my pubic hair back to see where my cock merged into my belly. Then she lifted it up, pulled the foreskin hard back to expose my glans and studied that. She put her fingertip against my urethra, pushed it inside, seeing how far it would go and when she pulled back a string of pre-cum joined her fingertip to my cock.

"Getting a little excited?" she murmured.

"What do you expect?"

She laughed. "God, I do love teasing you, Tom. I know it's not fair, but I love it!"

"Carry on," I said. "I'm getting used to it myself."

She laughed again. "I'll make you cum afterwards, promise."

"If you keep playing around like this Al, it might be sooner than that."

She traced down the underside of my cock, fascinated by the prominent ridge running its full length, examined where my cock merged into my balls.

"You still shave your balls," she said.

"Not for a few days," I said.

She looked more closely. "Yeah, it's starting to grow out again a bit. Want me to tidy it up?"

"Sure."

She looked up at me and said, "The rest as well?"

I looked back, then nodded. "If you want to."

She grinned. "I want."

She rolled off the bed again, went into the bathroom and came back with fresh water and a damp flannel. She climbed back on, grabbed the scissors and pulled up a tuft of pubic hair, glanced up at me once and then snipped it off. She worked slowly, removing as much hair as she could with the scissors, then she shook the shaving brush and soaped it up and began to work it in. It felt good as she rubbed the slick foam into me, over my lower belly, around the base of my cock, over my balls.

Then she took the razor and started stroking away the remains of my pubic hair. Again she worked slowly, carefully, pushing my cock aside to get at the base, lifting it to reach my balls, parting my thighs to get the last pieces of hair, pulling at my ball sac to tighten it and running the razor over me.

It took almost twenty exquisite minutes, then she went back to the bathroom, wrung out the flannel and wiped me clean.

She stared hard, ran the razor over a couple of places she had missed.

"What d'you think, Tom?" she asked.

I looked down, not used to the sight of my cock nakedly jutting from a smooth belly.

"Like it?" she asked.

"Might take some getting used to," I said.

"I like it," she said. "I can see you completely now. Why should it only be us girls have to shave down there? Not fair."

"I'm all for fairness," I said.

"Me too. Your turn." Ali stepped off the bed and tugged at the tie of her robe, opened it and let it drop off her shoulders, came back onto the bed and lay on her back beside me.

"All yours," she said.

"Careful what you say," I said.

She slapped me lightly on the chest. "You know what I meant."

I sighed. "I guess."

She grinned and lifted her arms above her head, deliberately displaying herself.

I followed her example and started on her toes, kneeling over her feet, my face close, my fingers probing and exploring, and before long I began to appreciate the wonder of what she was offering. She had given her body to me completely, to explore and examine, and I was captivated at the openness, at the level of intimacy offered. Even her toes, studying them in details, were wonderful. Her smallest toes was slightly plump, tiny and mobile, and I worked my way along them. Once of twice Ali twitched her foot as I tickled, but then I moved away from them, traced the bones in her feet, rolled her ankles, followed her slim calves to her knees.

"Woman are made much better than men, Al," I said.

"I don't know about that." She was leaning on a pile of pillows, watching me work along her legs.

"You like women better though, don't you?"

"Sure. Apart from you, that is."

"Yeah, I know, I'm an honorary dyke. You told me."

She laughed. "I think I've changed my mind on that. You're my honorary sexy straight guy now. My forbidden secret. Just don't tell any of my girlfriends we've done this."

"We're only studying each other," I said.

"Even so - no telling."

"Promise," I said.

I studied her thighs, digging my fingers hard in to her muscle and she jerked and I said sorry and she said "It's OK, I don't mind. Just a shock."

I slid my hand down inside her thigh, half way between knee and pussy, and pulled her legs slightly wider. The upper inside of her thighs were hollowed, and I ran my fingertips along them, feeling the dip and then rise. Ali had a ledge between her thighs, a definite gap which cradled her pussy, and I looked at that, drawing in the shape and texture of her skin there. I could see, very faintly, the light tracing of her pubic hair growing back and lifted my hand and slid a finger above her pussy, feeling the small resistance.

"How often d'you shave, Al," I asked.

"Every time I shower. So every morning."

"It grows back like this every day?" I said, running my fingers along her flat belly again.

"It's easy to trim off if I do it every day though. If I could afford it, I'd go for laser treatment, have it blasted for good."

"So you never want it to grow back?"

"Why would I want that?"

"You like it hairless down here?"

"Of course."

"Why?"

"Don't you like it?" she asked.

"I think it's incredible."

"Turns you on?"

I nodded. "Even though you don't like men, doesn't mean this one can't get turned on by you."

"Good. It turns me on, too. Turns on my girlfriends. And it feels good."

I nodded again, moved to her hips, so differently shaped to mine, wider and more covered. I moved to her belly, pushed my finger into her navel as she had done to me. Hers was far more elegant than mine, deep, forming a vertical valley on her belly. She was so slim, so well muscled under her skin. 

I felt her ribs, running my fingers along them.

I hesitated at the sides of her breasts, glanced up.

"Go ahead," Ali said, and smiled as my fingers slid onto her breasts. I measured them, weighing them in my hands, fascinated at their firmness and texture. I circled her nipples, then touched them and saw them spring out and respond. I rolled one then the other between my fingers, making them hard, and Ali said, "Not fair."

"You made mine hard too," I said.

"They're smaller though."

"Same thing," I said. 

I traced the upper swell of her breasts, fascinated at how they flowed into her upper chest, moved to her collar bone, her neck, moved her head to one side and pushed her thick hair back and examined her ears, felt up into her hairline, feeling the bones beneath my hands, feeling her eye sockets and nose and jaw and lips.

"Sit up, Al," I said, and applied pressure to her back and leaned her forwards.

I wanted to see what her breasts looked like as gravity pulled at them.

Ali crossed her legs and leaned forwards. Her breasts hung from her body, swaying gently. Her stomach folded, forming tiny ridges in her skin.

I put the back of my finger underneath her breast. Even leaning forward like this, the lower curve of her breasts did not touch her skin. I laid my finger against the pendulous globe and ran it lightly up until it reached her nipple.

Ali shivered. "God Tom, that feels good!"

Her nipple was now rigid, and I traced it with my fingertip and Ali hissed gently between her teeth.

As if a lightning bolt had struck, I stopped, stunned. A sense of complete unreality rolled through me and I slumped down onto the bed beside her, watching my fingers lightly touch her beneath her nipple.

"Are you OK, Tom?" Ali turned to look at me.

I nodded. "I think so... fuck..."

"What is it?" She turned, kneeling beside me, leaning over me now.

I shook my head and laughed. "It's just... I had such a weird feeling then." I laughed again. "Kind of deja vu but not deja vu. Looking at your boobs, touching them, and I remembered all the times I used to fantasize over them when I was growing up, and it seemed unreal to actually be here with you. Both of us naked. I used to dream about something like this."

"You did?" Ali said softly.

"You know I did."

"I thought so, but I wasn't sure."

I took a deep breath, shook my head to clear it.

"Roll over," I said.

"You gonna come back to down there, Tom?" Ali asked.

"Sure. Back first though. And when I do, can I shave you this morning, Al?"

"That'd be fun," she said, and rolled onto her front.

I moved back down, worked the soles of her feet, her ankles, the back of her legs. Her ass was wonderful. The separation between ass and thigh was difficult to find, there was no line, no overhang, just a smooth taper from rounded globes into slim thigh. I placed my palms on her ass and felt them, felt their firmness, briefly tugged to open her crack and gazed at her tiny budded asshole, then moved up to her waist, her spine, her back, her shoulders. I looked at her fingers and arms, at the smoothness and warmth of her skin. As I reached her neck I was leaning over and my cock bumped into the side of her ass and she laughed softly and said, "Careful where you put that."

I felt the back of her skull, burying my fingers deep inside her massed curls, enjoying the feel of her bones under my hands and her hair on my skin.

Then I went back, pulled at her leg and she moved, opening her thighs and displaying her ass and pussy to me, one leg lifted, the other straight, her foot hanging off the side of the bed.

I slid my palm down her back, onto the rise of her ass, my fingers tracing down the center of her crack and I touched her asshole and she jumped, like I had.

I left my fingertip there, resting on her. Slowly, gently, I began to stroke it away and back, feeling the rougher skin around her opening, the dip into her asshole.

"Tom," she said softly.

"What, Al?"

"That thing your doing now?"

"This?" I lightly touched her again.

"Yeah, that."

"What about it?" I moved my fingers away, tracing down between her thighs, feeling the area just behind her pussy.

"That's probably my favorite thing of all time."

I hesitated, moved my finger back to her asshole.

"Having your ass touched?"

She nodded. "Is that kinky, or what?"

"Depends how far it goes, I guess. And who's doing the touching. I don't suppose you've had a guy touch you there before."

She shook her head.

"I watched you and Maggie, when I first came here," I said. "You like a finger inside as well? A tongue?"

"Am I hopeless case?" she said.

"Not hopeless. Not at all. Just unbelievably gorgeous."

She laughed. "For a girl."

"You forget, I'm into girls. I can recognize first class ass when I see it."

"We can tell each other anything, can't we, Tom?"

"Of course we can," I said, feeling a slight guilt because I had never said anything to her about what I had nearly done with Mom.

"Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be fucked in my ass," Ali said.

"Really? I thought you weren't into cocks."

"Not," she said into the pillows. "But I wonder all the same."

"Probably hurt like hell," I said.

"Yeah. Probably. You ever done that, Tom?"

"Done what?"

"Fucked someone in the ass?"

"Never," I said.

"Wanted to?" Ali asked.

I nodded, then realized she couldn't see me and said, "Sure."

Ali nodded into her pillows. "Tell you what, Tom, we'll make a pact, yeah?"

"A pact?"

"Sure. If I ever wanna try being fucked in the ass I'll ask you to do it. Fair?"

I laughed. "Sounds like I get the best side of that bargain," I said.

Ali shook her head. "No, don't think so. Sometimes I fantasize about being fucked in the ass. When a girlfriend is licking me, when they've got their finger all the way inside my ass, I fantasize about it being a cock instead." She half rolled over and looked at me, her face flushed, whether from being on the pillows or something else I couldn't tell. "Is that fucked up, or what?"

I put my hand on her back, stroked her skin.

"Not fucked up, Al. Just... stuff. There's things we're all into, some more than others. You told me, nothing's fucked up if you enjoy it."

"You'll do it for me, if I ask?" Ali said, still looking at me.

"Fuck you in the ass?"

She nodded.

"Sure. Of course."

"Whoo," Ali said, and rolled onto her back. "You'd better go ahead and shave me, Tom, before I get carried away."

My cock was throbbing, aching, but I reached for the razor and drew it across Ali's pussy, removing the tiny trace of stubble. She opened her legs, allowing me to shave her pussy lips. I pulled the skin, drawing it tight, and shaved her clean.

"Wow, that's really nice," she said. "And a lot less hassle than doing it myself."

I laughed, tossed the razor back on the beside table. "Any time you want me to shave your pussy you've only got to ask, Al."

"I'll remember that," she said, putting her arms above her head and stretching. "You gonna touch my pussy now, Tom?"

"Is that allowed?"

"Of course it is."

"Inside too?"

She nodded. "As far inside as you want."

"Make you cum, too?" I asked.

"Please," she said. "I really need to cum now."

"You do?"

She laughed. "You don't think this is turning me on as well? I've seen your cock, Tom. You think I'm not turned on too?"

She lay back and I let my finger drift down until I touched the large nub of her clitoris. It was incredible, being given permission to explore, to examine, to really discover her body. Her clitoris was large and engorged. It sat proud of the small hood above of her pussy, and I rolled it from side to side, bent over and looked closely at it, at the tiny opening at its tip. It looked like a very tiny cock, and I wondered if she ejaculated from it when she came.

I moved down, tracing her outer pussy lips, parting them and finding her inner labia nestled within. Ali had a plump outer pussy that formed a tight slit. Without pulling her lips apart her inner folds would remain hidden. I pushed two fingers in either side, opening her, seeing the pink inner folds, let a finger touch her there and she hissed softly.

"Don't like?" I asked.

"Like," she said. "Like a lot."

"You're pretty wet down here, Al," I said.

"Too fucking right I am."

I pushed my finger further in, feeling her oiled dampness.

"All the way, Tom," she said.

I probed, extending my index finger deep inside her, finding ridges and nodules and places I had never imagined. I pressed hard, found the entrance to her womb buried deep inside.

Ali was breathing hard now and I looked up at her face, eyes closed, mouth open. I slid a second finger inside her.

"Do me, Tom," she gasped. "Just fucking do me!"

I pushed a third finger inside, deep inside, and started to work them in and out. With my other hand I put pressure on her clitoris and she grunted.

I pushed inside her, watching her pussy, watching her face, and then she moved, rolling onto her side, lifting her right leg high.

"Touch my ass, Tom, please?"

I moved, slid my wet fingers out of her pussy, ran them up her thigh and inserted them again, put my other hand on her ass and placed the tip of my finger on her asshole.

"Inside," she gasped.

I lifted my finger to my mouth, wetted it and put it back, pressing. I saw her tight bud open, saw my fingertip enter her ass.

"Fuck yeah," she moaned. "Don't wanna cum yet, Tom. Play with my ass, tease me Tommy."

I slowed the movement of my fingers in her pussy, increased the movement of my finger in her ass, pushing it further, pushing it deep.

"Oh God yes," she said.

My palm was flat on her ass, my index finger buried to the top joint, my other hand had three fingers in her pussy and her chest was flushed pink, her eyes alight.

My cock was on fire. I needed to cum soon, and moved around so I was behind her, moved so the head of my cock bumped against the cheek of her ass.

"Oh God," she said again. "That's so fucking hot. Put your cock on my asshole, Tommy?"

I gently withdrew my fingers, moved closer and guided my cock so the head just rested on her ass.

"Oh wow," she sighed.

"Like that?"

"Fuck yeah! I half want you to push, Tom, half want you not to." She rocked her head quickly. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum soon. Just keep your cock where it is, Tom, it's like you're gonna do it..."

"Just here?" I said, applying just a little pressure. There was no danger. Ali's asshole was so tight, my cock so thick, it would be a struggle to push inside her

But she squirmed against me and said, "Fuck, I want it inside me, Tommy. Fuck no."

I made no move to push. Instead, I gripped my cock in my hand and started to rub myself hard. I leaned over, kissed Ali on the side of her mouth and said, "I'm not gonna fuck you, Al. But I am gonna cum on your asshole."

"Oh Tommy, yeah, do it. Cum on my ass!"

I increased my pace, knowing I wasn't going to last long, working my fingers into Ali's pussy, watching as my cock rested and bumped against her asshole. I was desperate to push, to bury myself inside her, but I held myself back.

"Cumming now, Tommy," Ali gasped. "Cum on my ass now."

Ali started to shake and jerk under me. I rubbed hard, letting myself go. As she gasped and curled up, her hands came down and gripped mine, pulling my fingers deep inside her, and as she curled her ass opened even more and the sight was too much and I exploded, semen jetting hard from my cock. I was pressed onto her ass, and it splashed directly onto her asshole, sprayed out from the side, but some of it, the pressure, forced it inside and the lubrication opened Ali's ass a little and I didn't want to fuck her but I couldn't help it and as I jetted a second time just the head of my cock opened her ass and slipped inside, only a quarter inch, but my cum now jetted inside her ass and I rubbed and came again, then pulled back, guilty, and emptied the rest of my seed over her ass.




Ali's Art Ch. 04



My knees were weak and shaking, and I sat back on my heels, slid a hand along Ali's thigh and spread the slippery cum over her ass. She still clutched my other hand to her pussy, and I breathed hard and watched as a trail of my cum slid out from her now closed asshole and trailed down her thigh.

"Fuck, Tom," she gasped.

"Nearly got carried away there, Al. Sorry."

"I wanted you to. I think I wanted you to do it, Tom."

"I think we'd better stop messing around like this, Al. Before we go too far."

She burst out laughing. "This wasn't going too far?"

She rolled onto her back, pulled my hand and my fingers slid out of her with a squelch. She lifted my hand to her mouth and kissed my fingers.

"It's so much fun, though, Tom."

I nodded. "But dangerous."

"I guess." She pulled a face and laughed. "Oh yuck, Tom, I can feel your cum dripping out of my asshole." And still laughing she rolled off the bed and waddled through to the bathroom. 



Ali's Art Ch. 05



My new life seemed a world away from the rural backwater that was Denton, but I felt the thin veneer of maturity melt away as the Delta Airlines flight circled to land at BWI three days before Christmas. I had promised Mom I would come back for the holiday. I had been unable to return for Thanksgiving, and had not been home since early Fall. When I spoke with Mom on the phone she always sounded as though she missed me. I knew she wouldn't dream of saying so, because she wanted me to be where I was, wanted me to make a success of my choice, but sometimes there was a catch in her voice, and she sounded so damn happy when I said I'd be coming back for the whole week it made me feel good.

This time Ali's enterprises allowed me to fly, so instead of a fourteen hour bus journey I had just over an hour in the air.

Mom was waiting for me in the arrivals lounge and hugged me so hard I couldn't breathe for a moment.

"Tommy, you look so grown up!" she said.

I shrugged, "Not so grown up, Mom." Although I knew I was different to the boy who went away. My clothes were better, my haircut had probably cost more than Mom usually spent on food for the week. I suppose I had grown up, but it was still good to be back, good to see Mom happy and excited because I was home.

I carried my bag outside and we caught a shuttle bus to the car park. I threw my bag in the trunk of our tired old Ford, took the keys off Mom and told her I'd drive. She could sit back and relax.

That night I put Sarah to bed. Since arriving home she had hardly left my side, wanting me to tell her all about New York, what I had been doing, what Ali had been doing, and I regaled her with funny stories about all the things that had happened, censoring hard all the other stuff. By eight o'clock her eyes were starting to droop, and it was obvious the excitement of the day was taking its toll.

I took her upstairs and sat on the side of her bed, reading a story. She had moved on from the big picture books, Dr. Zeus and Roald Dahl. Now she proudly handed me a real book, as she called it, and I opened it and read to her about Mr. Toad, Ratty and Mole, making up voices to make her laugh. 

She did well, lasting all of ten minutes, but then her eyes closed and stayed shut. I read for a couple more minutes, then pulled the covers up to her chin and turned off her lamp. I left the bedroom door open an inch so light from the upstairs hallway fell into her room

When I came downstairs Mom was sitting on our big old sofa. She had opened a bottle of red wine and poured two glasses.

"You do drink, don't you Tommy?" she asked with a smile.

"Uh, yeah, I have been known to."

She offered me a glass, patted the other side of the sofa.

I dropped into the corner and she scooted across, tapping my leg. I knew what she wanted so lifted my left leg against the back of the sofa and she scooted over until she sat in the cradle made by my legs and pulled my arms around her. Mom was tactile, and it felt the most natural thing in the world to have her leaning back against me. It was the way she had always held me when I was young, and sometime over the years our roles had reversed, and lately it had been her that sat against me. With my arms around her I was careful to place one hand up on her shoulder, the other down around her waist.

After we got home Mom had changed, putting on what looked like a new dress. I was sure she had lost a little weight since I'd been gone, and the dress showed off her slim waist and large breasts. It was well made, fashioned of a fine linen-cotton mix, pale tan in color. Small buttons closed the dress all the way up the front. The top was lower cut than Mom usually wore and showed her deep cleavage. The hem fell to just touch her knees when she was standing. Now, leaning back against me she had raised her legs and the skirt had ridden up onto her thighs.

"Tell me about New York, Tom," she said.

I told her the things I could, and skipped over the ones I couldn't, just like I had with Sarah.

"And what about girls?" She asked. "You're such a good looking young man, you must have girls chasing after you."

"A few, maybe." I admitted.

"But you're careful, Tom, aren't you?"

I nodded and looked down at her nestled against my chest, "I'm careful, Mom."

"And how's Alison?" she asked. "Is this new apartment nice? Is sharing working out?"

"It's working really well," I said.

She hugged me tight against her, "Good. I've missed you, Tom, but I'm glad you went. And thanks for coming home this week. It means a lot to me."

I kissed the top of her head, smelled the fresh shampoo in her hair. "How could I miss Christmas at home?"

Mom poured more wine and drank hers quickly, then wriggled back so she was pressed hard against my stomach. I could see she was getting a little drunk, a little silly, and it felt like fun and I wanted her to be happy after the tough times she had been through. I slid my arms around her again, one up, one down. Mom put her hand on my upper forearm and pulled it downwards. I could feel my wrist pressing against the swell of her breasts and she sighed and stopped tugging. It was still OK, just, but I was very aware of the rise of her breast under my arm, and very aware also that I was growing hard and worried Mom must have felt it as well because she was pressed tight back against my crotch.

She either really didn't notice, or pretended not to, although she did wriggle her ass a bit further back, and I wondered if she was teasing me.

"This is great, Tommy. Give Mom a kiss."

She angled her face back and up to me and I bent and kissed her on the lips. We were not cheek kissers, never had been. But this time I felt her hand on the back of my neck and she held me against her for longer than usual.

When we broke she smiled and put her head back on my chest, "Thanks. Just what I needed."

I sat there feeling weird. Had my Mom just made a pass at me?

If it hadn't been Mom I would have been flattered. Because she had given birth to me so young she was still only 37 and had kept her figure and skin tone and could easily pass for someone ten years younger. She was on the short side, standing about five-three without shoes, and had blonde hair, curly like mine and cut only a little longer. Her face was pretty if not beautiful, and her body was the kind you just had to look at, and stay looking at. She was vivacious.

"What about you, Mom? No tall handsome man on the horizon?"

She laughed, the moment of tension, if there had been one and it had not just been me, broken. She pulled away and tipped the bottle into her glass. A tiny dribble of wine emerged. "Shit," she muttered, then covered her mouth with her hands, "Sorry, Tommy."

I laughed. "I do swear, Mom, now and then."

She got up and smiled, "Yes, you're a grown man now, aren't you?" She padded through to the kitchen and came back with another bottle, gave it and the corkscrew to me to open. I uncorked the wine and topped her glass, put a lesser amount into mine.

Mom drained half hers in a swallow and held her glass out for more.

"Are you sure, Mom?" I said.

"I want to get drunk, Tommy. It's just so great to have you home, and I feel so happy, I just want to get a bit drunk and cuddle up to you."

"Don't blame me for your bad head in the morning then," I said, and refilled her glass.

Mom sipped from her glass and leaned back on me. She lifted herself up and when she sat back it was on my lap and my swollen cock now rested between the round, firm cheeks of her ass.

I could feel her bare leg against my jeans where her dress had risen up.

Mom pulled my arms tight around her and again I felt that tug as she moved my upper arm down. The wine was getting to me as well, and what I should have done was make some excuse and move away. But I didn't. Instead I let the hand that was wrapped around her stomach rise until it very lightly cupped the underside of her left breast. We sat that way for a while. I didn't want to move any further in case Mom thought my hand cupping her was accidental and wasn't going to say anything. But she seemed relaxed, and she seemed to be pressing pretty firmly back against me.

Very slowly I began to stroke her skin with the fingers of my other hand, where it rested against her shoulder. My fingers slid gently inside the open neck of the dress and I stroked her warm smooth skin. Still she said nothing, still she made no move away.

My cock was now painfully hard inside my pants and I desperately wanted to move to ease it but did not dare disturb what was happening.

Instead I allowed my fingers to continue their gentle massage of her shoulder blade and slide beneath the strap of her bra. Slowly, very slowly they drifted down. I felt the upper curve of her breast and continued. My fingers reached the top of her bra and I stopped, my heart fluttering inside my chest, my mind flipping back and forward over what to do. Was I really trying to get my hands on my Mom's tits? Was I willing to let this go where it appeared to be going?

"That's nice, Tommy," Mom murmured. "You've got soft fingers."

She must know what I was doing, but she was offering no objection or resistance.

I continued to run my fingertips along the upper edge of her bra, not daring to make any attempt to slide them further. I had to make a decision, now, about where this was going. I realized that if I let things go on I might end up making a pass at my mother. I found I was not as shocked at the idea as I should be, and could easily imagine the pleasure we might experience. My mother was very attractive, and I had definitely had fantasies about her when I was growing up. But now, the reality was beginning to overwhelm me.

I sighed and withdrew my hand from the warm curve of her breast. For a moment her fingers tugged at my wrist and tried to move my hand back, but when I kept up the pressure she released and let me go. She laid her head back to look up at me and I kissed her once, briefly, and said, "Mom, I think you've had a little too much to drink. You need to go to bed."

I felt her wriggle her ass back against my crotch, and I tried to stop my cock responding. I pushed her gently away again.

"Go on," I said. "I'll lock up. You need to sleep."

"You can come up with me if you want, Tommy," she said softly.

"I know I could, Mom. And it's tempting. But I'm not sure that would be a good idea."

She looked at me and then slowly nodded. "I understand, Tommy. Goodnight." She lifted herself off me and walked unsteadily to the stairs, climbed them slowly. Half way up she paused and turned back. "You're sure?"

"No, Mom, I'm not. Sleep well."

She smiled and disappeared onto the top hallway.

I sat for five minutes, breathing deeply. I looked down at the bulge in my jeans and smiled to myself. There was a big damp patch half way along the outlined length of my cock where my Mom had been sitting on me.

Fuck, I thought, and got up and checked the doors and windows, turned out the lights and put the guard in front of the fireplace. I followed my Mom upstairs. I noticed she had left her door ajar, and made myself walk past it to the end of the hallway.

"Goodnight, Tommy," I heard her call softly.

"Goodnight Mom," I replied.

The following morning I was downstairs before Mom. Sarah was up early as usual. I made her breakfast and chatted with her while we ate and then she bounced up and dashed back upstairs to wash. When Mom finally descended the stairs she looked pale and unsteady on her feet.

"You OK, Mom?" I asked.

She lowered herself into a chair at the kitchen table and put her face in her hands. "I feel like crap, Tom," she said. "How much did I have to drink last night?"

"Quite a bit."

"A bit too much," she said. She looked across at me and gave a crooked smile and I thought she looked utterly beautiful. "Thanks for being a gentleman last night."

So she remembered. "It wasn't easy, Mom."

She continued to stare at me and eventually I had to look away and pretend to be busy with my plate.

"It's OK Mom, really," I said, getting up and taking my things to the sink. "We were both a bit excited, and tired, and drunk. I was flattered."

"But Tommy," she whispered, "I think I was going to let you touch me! No - I wanted you to touch me. I wanted you to do more than just touch me. I'm a fucking terrible mother."

I was startled to hear Mom swear, to come right out and say the same as had been in my mind. Things were certainly changing around the house.

"You're not a terrible mother," I said. "And it's me should be apologizing. I was weak. You are very beautiful, Mom, and any man would want you."

"But I'm your Mom," she whispered back. "I'm not supposed to want sex with my son!"

She had come out and said it, the big thing. "It happens," I said. "I think it probably happens more than we know. We'll just have to be careful."

"Careful?" she said.

"Mom, you are a really, really attractive woman, and you're not all that much older than me. And I'm a young guy whose dick has a mind of its own, and I can tell you now my dick wanted you last night!" If Mom could use dirty words in front of me, then I could do the same back.

She nodded. "Yes, we should be careful," she said, but I was worried that I didn't hear a great deal of conviction in her voice, but just then Sarah came back and jumped at me and I had to grab her.

"Tommy, take me out for a walk. I want to show you where I play."

I laughed and twirled her round. "Come on then, pumpkin. But make sure you dress up warm. I'll see you later Mom, unless you want to come too?"

She shook her head, "I need to do the washing, and I want to clean the house. Have a good time. I'll see you later."

Sarah took me around all her favorite sites, showed me where she played, where her friend's houses were. We walked into town and I took her to McDonald's and then asked if she wanted to see a movie. She chose a cartoon I had never heard of, but it was still fun sitting with my little sister in the theater and hearing her giggle at all the stupid jokes.

It was getting dark by the time we arrived back home, and we were both hungry again.

Mom was in the kitchen preparing food. "Spaghetti," she said.

Sarah jumped up and down, still wrapped in her coat. "I love spagheretti!"

I helped her out of her coat and then made her go upstairs and wash.

"Did you have a good time?" Mom asked.

"We had a great time," I said.

She smiled over her shoulder at me. During the day she had changed and now wore another dress I hadn't seen before. It was dark blue and made of a fine material that showed her curves off to perfection. I studied the way it fell from her shoulders, pulled in over the small waist and then flaring over her hips. The hem fell to just above her knees and I let my eyes drift down her smooth legs. She looked like she had given herself a spring clean as well as the house.

I walked over and put my arms round her waist, kissed her on the neck. "I love you, Mom."

"I know you do, Tommy." For a brief moment I felt her press back against me, then she said, "There's beer in the fridge if you want one."

I laughed and let her go, "I don't know if alcohol is a good idea, Mom."

She tossed her head and looked at me. "We've decided to be good, Tommy. Have a beer."

"PK." I twisted a can off the six pack she had put on the bottom shelf, and flopped on the sofa to watch tv for a while. We didn't have a tv in New York, and I found it strange to sit and be entertained (or not) in such a passive way.

Sarah came down and snuggled in beside me, took the remote and changed the channel to something she wanted. Life felt good.

After supper was cleared away we sat around the kitchen table and played silly games with Sarah which made her laugh a lot, and which also made Mom and me laugh as well.

At eight o'clock Mom said, "OK Sarah honey, time for bed."

"Oh Mo-om," Sarah complained.

Mom shook her head. "Go on, brush your teeth and wash your face and I'll come and tuck you in."

"Tommy," Sarah said. "I want Tommy to read again."

Mom looked at me and I nodded, "Sure. I'd love to, Sarah. Go get ready and give me a shout."

From the short time until she called down the stairs, I'm not sure how well she washed, but I went up anyway. She was snuggled down under her cartoon duvet and had replace The Wind in the Willows with an old picture book.

I sat down and opened it. "Anything special, honey?"

"The princess one," she said.

I paged through and found the right story and started to read. Despite Sarah's protestations of not being tired, fifteen minutes later her eyes had closed and she started to breath slowly and I knew she was sound asleep. I turned off her light and kissed her brow, left her door open so that a little light fell into the room, and went downstairs.

Mom was sitting in the corner of the sofa, her legs tucked under her, the new dress just letting her knees peek out. A bottle of wine and two glasses had been placed on the coffee table but not poured. Mom was looking down at her hands resting in her lap. Her eyes were red and I realized she was quietly crying.

I went across and knelt in front of her, resting my hands on her thighs just above her knees.

"Mom, what is it?"

She sniffed and wiped her arm across her eyes. "I'm sorry, Tommy. It's just that I was sitting here, thinking about you reading to Sarah, and how you're all grown up now and I've started to lose you, and how it felt like for tonight anyway we were all one family, and I felt good, and I don't know, I just started to cry. But I'm not sad, Tommy. Really, I'm not sad."

"You're not going to lose me, Mom. You'll never lose me."

She smiled at me. "But your growing up, Tommy. You've grown up. I saw it yesterday when you came off the plane. You're so much more confident, more mature than when you went away."

I smiled to myself and took her hands from her lap and held them. "But I'll always be here for you, Mom, you know that don't you?"

She shook her head, smiling, "I don't know, Tommy, you say that now, but one day you'll be married, have kids of your own and-"

"And you'll find someone too, Mom. You're a beautiful woman, and you're still young. You'll find someone and they'll make you happy."

"You make me happy, Tommy," she said. "And all the men I meet are ether married, or single and stupid. Men my age are single for a reason, Tom."

"Then get yourself a toy boy, Mom," I grinned.

"They're all so into themselves I couldn't stand one. You're not like that though, Tom. You're just perfect."

"Thanks Mom."

She sat up and twisted her legs out from underneath her, sniffed and wiped her hands over her face, straightened up and said, "Open the wine, Tommy, and then hold me like you did last night. Let's just enjoy this week together."

I smiled and poured a glass for each of us then sat in the corner of the sofa and parted my legs. Mom sat between them and leant back against me. I clinked my glass against hers. "What shall we toast to?" I said.

"Us," Mom said.

"To us," I said and clinked her glass again. Mom took a small sip and put her glass back on the table.

"I'm not getting drunk tonight, Tommy. I don't want to make a fool of myself again."

I opened my arms and she slid back inside them and wriggled herself against me.

"You didn't make a fool of yourself, Mom, no way. In fact I was flattered."

She snorted, "Yeah, middle aged Mom makes a pass at her boy. Very flattering."

I kissed her hair. "It was, Mom, it really was. And no way are you middle aged. I bet if we went out together people would think we were a couple."

She hugged her arms over mine tight around my waist, "Thanks, Tommy. But you need a girl your own age. Someone like Alison - although she's your cousin, I know, but someone like her."




Ali's Art Ch. 05



I laughed. "I don't think I'm Ali's type, Mom."

"Oh, you're any girl's type, Tommy."

"Unless they're into other girls," I said, and realized I was giving away Ali's secrets.

Mom lifted herself, twisted round and looked at me. "You mean...?"

I nodded.

"Well," she said, then burst out laughing. "OK, that's fine. That's one more thing I can stop worrying about then."

"Worrying about what?"

"You and Alison," she said, and slapped my arm. "I was thinking, you know, she's beautiful, and you're handsome, and I know you're cousins but sometimes these things just happen..." Her voice trailed off, and I think she was recalling last night. "Sometimes these things just happen, and I don't see what's so wrong when it does," she finished.

We were quiet for a minute, lost in our own thoughts, then Mom sighed and said, "But you do like girls, don't you?"

I laughed again. "I'm straight, Mom, if that's what your asking."

She nodded. "So how many girlfriends have you had since you went to New York? Were they hot?"

"Is this an appropriate conversation between a son and his mother?" I joked.

"Fuck appropriate," Mom said, shocking me again. "I'm curious. You're grown now, Tommy, and we've always be able to talk to each other, haven't we?"

"But about that?"

She slid back down and put her head against me. "I'm curious, Tommy. I don't get a lot of excitement in my life these days. In fact I've never really had much excitement. I just thought... well, if you wanted to talk about stuff I'd like to listen."

I leaned back against the chair and rubbed her shoulder inside her dress. I could feel the satin strap of her bra under my fingers.

"Do you really want me to tell you about my conquests, Mom?"

"Conquests?" she said. "So you have gotten laid then."

"Mom!"

"Tell me, Tommy," she said, and giggled. "Shock me with all the details."

"I'm not sure about all the details," I said.

"A few then. Tell me - did you fuck Jenni Harris? I was sure you were fucking her over the Summer."

I disentangled myself and reached for my wine glass. Mom might be staying sober tonight, but if she wanted me to do this I needed the alcohol. I drained my glass and filled it again. Mom took a drink from hers, leaving the glass half full and I reached across and topped it up and she smiled at me, raised an eyebrow and I noticed how she had plucked them since last night. She looked altogether better groomed, and I imagined her in the bathroom, showering, plucking, applying moisturizer and perfume. She looked and smelled delicious.

I sat back against the cushions and realized there was a definite bulge pushing against the front of my jeans and tried to shift to make it less obvious.

"OK Mom, what do you want to know?"

She considered, then said, "You're not a virgin, are you?"

"No Mom."

"So you and Jenni Harris? Did you?"

I nodded.

"I thought so." She looked pensive, but not shocked. "How many others?"

"How many girls?"

She nodded.

"About three," I said.

"About?" she smiled.

"OK, three." I decided that the blow job off Maggie didn't count, and there was no way I was going to tell he about that anyway.

"That's not too many," Mom said. "And you're careful?"

"If you mean do I use protection, yes Mom, I do."

She nodded again. "Good. What were they like? Were they beautiful? Jenni's beautiful, I know. What about the others?"

"They were nice," I said. "And one of them was very beautiful."

"No long term commitments?"

"I don't want that yet."

"Playing the field."

"Something like that, yeah."

"And Jenni? Was that a fling, or more...?"

"A fling," I said.

"No hard feelings?"

"Not from me. Nor from her either, I believe."

She had pulled herself tight against my side, and her leg came over like last night and rested along my jeans. I could feel the inside of her thigh pressed against me, against the tight bulge that had grown down my leg. She tugged at the material of her dress, pulling it out where it was caught between us, and I felt her naked thigh against my jeans.

"Tommy," she whispered, "I'm sorry if I shocked you last night."

"It's OK, Mom. It was kind of nice that you thought I was, well, you know..."

"I love you so much, Tommy."

"And I love you too." I kissed her on the top of the head and then pushed her forward and untangled my legs from around her. "I'm going to take a shower. I stink," I said.

"Give me a shout when you're done," Mom said, "I think I'd like to take a nice long bath. There's an old robe of your Dad's in my bedroom if you don't want to get dressed after. I don't think yours fits you any more, does it?"

I laughed. "I think it might show a bit too much of me!"

Mom returned my laugh and said, "Nothing I haven't seen before though."

Maybe not, I thought as I went up the stairs to shower, but it had been a while since she had seen me naked, and I had changed since then.

I found Dad's old terry robe and took my shower, dried off and pulled it on. It felt soft and warm and was too big for me. My Dad had been a tall man, over six feet and broad, and the dark grey robe fell half way down my calves and wrapped around my sides.

I went downstairs and told Mom the bathroom was free and she brushed past me and went upstairs. When she got to the top she turned back and said, "Give me five minutes then bring me up a glass of wine would you Tom? I feel decadent tonight."

"Uh, sure," I said.

I found a new bottle of Shiraz in the fridge and pulled the cork, filled a glass half full and when I thought enough time had passed took it upstairs. I knocked lightly on the bathroom door and heard Mom call, "Come on in, Tommy."

She was lying full length in the bath, mostly covered with piles of bubbles, but I was aware of her breasts floating high in the water, only hidden by foam. She had tied her hair up on top of her head and the water moved as she turned to see me. I put the toilet seat down and sat there and held her glass out.

She lifted herself up and as she turned to take the glass her breasts rose from the water and revealed themselves, stray runs of foam sliding down over them, parting around her nipples, leaving her skin wet and slick. I couldn't stop myself glancing down and Mom caught my look and laughed.

"It's OK. Look if you want Tommy, I don't mind."

I turned away, embarrassed.

"Come on, Tommy, it's alright." She reached over and patted my leg through the robe. "After what I was offering last night I don't think copping a look at your Mom's tits is going to matter too much, do you?"

I laughed. "I guess not, but I'd better go back downstairs all the same." But I made no move from my seat.

Mom sighed and slid back into the water, put her glass on the side of the bath and lifted her arms above her head as she dropped down and the water came to her chin.

"Tommy?" She said in a soft voice.

I smiled.

"Could you do me a big favor?"

"What's that, Mom?"

"Would you scrub my back for me? It's years since anyone's done that for me, and I really love it. Please, Tommy?" and she smiled again, a much younger smile than her years.

I sighed and made a show of reluctance. "I guess, if you want."

She sat up, water splashing, breasts rising free again and swaying, then she leaned forward so they flattened against her thighs.

I grabbed the big sponge and soaped it up and began to scrub her back.

"Harder, Tom," she said.

I applied more pressure and she grunted and sighed. "So good..."

I washed her back for five minutes, running the sponge down beneath the water to the upper curve of her ass and then back up, over her shoulders and the tops of her arms, letting water squeeze from the sponge and run down her front. Finally, I couldn't see that there was anything more to wash so I squeezed the sponge dry and sat back.

"Thanks Tommy," Mom said, sliding back down, lifting her arms over her head so her breasts rose with the movement and her nipples appeared at the water line, longer than they had been, their tips peeking above the water.

I got up and started for the door.

"Oh Tommy, there's a fresh razor in the cabinet, can you pass it to me?"

I opened the mirrored door and found the new razor, unwrapped it and passed it to Mom, glancing down again.

"Your look pretty good already under your arms," I said.

She smiled lazily and then winked. "How d'you know that's what I want it for?"

"Uh, well... I just thought..."

She smiled again and said, "See you later. I'll be down in a while..."

I closed the door behind me and took the stairs down, glad that Dad's old robe was big enough to hide the bulge of my aroused cock in its folds.

I poured myself a glass of wine and drank it straight back and topped it up. On the sofa I sat cross legged in the corner and re-arranged the folds of the robe and tried to make my cock relax. I laid my head back on the cushions and closed my eyes, trying to work through my feelings.

It was pretty obvious now that my Mom was flirting with me. It was also pretty obvious that if I allowed it to happen I could fuck her, and she would let me. But did she really want that, really want to commit incest with her son, to perform that taboo act of love? And more to the point, did I want that as well?

Why now? What had changed between us that Mom now wanted more of me than ever before?

I tossed the thoughts around in my head, mixing them in with the images I still carried from the bathroom, and as it all rattled around I realized my cock, instead of getting flaccid, had becoming harder.

Yes, I did want her. I did want my mother. And the taboo made no difference - in fact, if anything, the taboo made it more exciting. Maybe it was because of the thoughts I had had about Ali. Was there really that much difference between wanting to fuck your first cousin and wanting to fuck your mother?

I laughed softly to myself. Yes, of course there was! What the fuck was I thinking?

"What are you laughing at, Tom?"

Mom had descended the stairs silently on bare feet and I started and opened my eyes. She had not dressed either and wore her old towelling robe, the one she had liberated years ago from a hotel after her and Dad had saved up for a holiday on their own. It's original whiteness had faded over time, and it was too big for her, probably meant for a man originally, but when she wore it she always looked like Mom.

She lifted her empty glass. "More wine?" she asked.

"I'm fine, thanks."

She went to the kitchen and topped her own glass up, came back across to the sofa and said, "Make room then, Tom."

I moved across but she remained where she was, an eyebrow raised. I sighed and stretched my legs out, making sure my robe covered as much of my legs as it could. Mom smiled and settled down between them, wriggling back against me.

"Better," she said. She sipped her wine, going more slowly tonight.

I put my arms around her again, one around her waist, one around her shoulder at the front and she sighed and muttered something I couldn't catch. She wriggled again, put a hand on my lower arm and lifted it. I thought about resisting, but then dismissed the idea. This felt good.

I raised my hand and placed it, like last night, beneath her right breast, taking the weight against my palm. Tonight her breasts were unconfined, and I felt the firmness of them move more freely as I touched her.

I allowed my left hand to slide inside the neckline of her robe and drift down, feeling the sudden upper curve of her breast and she sighed and I felt her relax against me.

"That feels good, Tom," she said. She rolled sideways and put her glass down on the coffee table. As she moved her breast shifted under my hand, presenting itself. I felt a nipple brush against my finger, then when she moved back I let my hand remain where it was, cupping her left breast in my palm, her nipple hard against it.

"And that feels even better," she muttered.

I waited, breathing shallowly, then finally began to gently stroke her breast. I explored the heavy lower curve, amazed at how soft and smooth her skin felt. I returned to her nipple and rolled it between thumb and finger and she twitched and I stopped and she shook her head and said, "Feels nice. Do that some more, Tommy. It's been a long time since a man's touched me like that."

I raised my other hand, slid it inside the robe to her other breast and Mom tugged at the material so that both large globes were exposed.

What am I doing, I thought, but couldn't stop.

Mom put her head back against my shoulder and slid down between my legs. Her robe rose up, exposing her thighs, almost exposing her pussy. I watched, mesmerized, as her hand slid in under its folds, searching for herself.

My cock ached and I stroked both her nipples, pulling gently on them until they were long and hard.

I bent my head and kissed her exposed neck, enjoying the view of her breasts and naked belly. I was thinking about pulling on the tie at her waist when Sarah's voice sounded from upstairs.

"Mommy! I had a bad dream Mommy!"

Mom jerked upright, pulling her robe closed over herself and stood. She looked down at me, blushing, glanced at the obvious bulge beneath my robe, and gave a wry smile.

"Almost caught out then," She said. "I'll go and see what's wrong."

"You want me to do it?"

She shook her head. "No. I'll go." She looked at me, seemed to be about to say something else but then Sarah called again and she turned and went upstairs.

I lay for a while, trying to ignore my aching cock, then turned off the lights, set the fireguard and went up to my room. I lay naked on top of the covers with my rigid cock in my hand and slowly rubbed myself while I conjured images of Mom in my mind.

I don't know what it was made me open my eyes, perhaps a sound, perhaps a change in the light. I had been careful to close my door but when I opened my eyes Mom was standing there. The hall light was off, the only illumination coming from the streetlights outside.

She had opened her robe and was naked beneath. One hand cupped a breast, the other worked between her legs and she stared at me, at my cock in my hand, and said nothing. The look on her face was one of uncontrolled lust, and she was breathing raggedly. I don't know if she saw me open my eyes, saw me look back at her, as I continued rubbing myself, lifting my hips.

Mom's mouth hung open now, her movements more frantic.

I could feel myself approach the point of no return and tried to hold back.

I stroked myself and watched her, saw her face change, saw her body spasm.

I let myself go, and instantly shot a jet of cum high into the air to land on my chest.

Mom gasped, once, and began to shake. Her movements became jerky, her head dropped but she continued to stare at my cock as I ejaculated streams of cum onto myself. Her knees looked like they were going, and she released her breast and gripped the door jamb.

I stopped rubbing myself and removed my hand, lay there with my cock softening, cum cooling on my belly and chest.

Mom shivered, recovering herself, slowly drew her fingers away from her pussy.

She looked up, at my face, her expression neutral, no hint of a smile, no hint of anything else. Then she straightened herself, drew her robe closed and turned away. Gently, she closed my door behind her as she left.

Christmas Eve morning I came down late, worried what the atmosphere would be like, but Sarah was coloring in a book and Mom was moving around the kitchen as usual, still dressed in her second-hand robe. She offered her cheek for a kiss, said "Good Morning," and piled breakfast on a plate. The only minor difference was the way she let her fingers trail down through my hair and over my neck as she passed by.

Later in the morning Mom called me upstairs. She was standing in the upper hallway, pointing up at the hatch in the ceiling.

"Tom, do you think you can unlatch that and pull the ladder down?"

"Sure. What are you after?"

"I'm sure your Dad put all your old videos up here years ago. I thought there might be some Sarah would like. If they're no good we can just throw them out."

"OK." I reached up but the latch was still six inches from my outstretched arm, so I brought a chair from my bedroom, climbed onto it and lowered the hatch, pulled the aluminum ladder half way down, removed the chair and let it all the way to the floor.

I climbed up into the loft space. It was cold, the warm air in the house trapped below. At some point over the years Dad had insulated it and then laid boards. There was a switch on a rafter and when I flicked it a single bare bulb lit up the space.

Stacked on the far side, against the end of the house, were boxes. I shuffled across on my knees, the space not high enough to stand. I heard Mom climb in after me and follow.

"When I boxed them up I wrote what was in each one, Tom. See if you can find one marked Videos or maybe Tapes."

I tugged the boxes around, finding Material, Old Books, then laughed as I pulled a flat, wide box out and read it.

"Your old wedding dress, Mom?"

"I'd forgotten that was up here," she said.

"Do you think it still fits?"

She slapped me on the butt. "Of course it still fits... I think." Mom laughed back. "It's sixteen years old now. I wonder if the moths have gotten into it?"

"Do you want me to pull it out? It might be better in your room than up here."

"I don't know why I've kept it, Tommy. It's not like I'm going to need it again."

"Never know," I said, sitting back on my heels. Mom's face was pensive in the shifting light as the small bulb swayed. "Keep it as a family heirloom. Sarah might want to get married in it."

She put the box containing her wedding dress aside and pulled more boxes open. After ten minutes of breathing in dust and being convinced there were spiders crawling down our necks she said, "Got it. Thank God for that!"

She pushed the box across to me and I helped her tidy the others back against the wall, then worked the box through the hatch and brushed myself down.

Mom followed me, and I admit I allowed myself to enjoy the view directly up her skirt as she descended the ladder. Her panties had pulled tight between her legs and her labia were clearly outlined. As she reached the ground I turned away, ashamed of what I had done, then pushed the ladder back up and closed the hatch.

Mom was brushing dust and cobwebs off her blouse. "I'm going to need another shower now."

"Do you want one now? I can sort through these."

"No. I want to see what we've found. Let's take them downstairs and find out."

I dropped the box, quite a heavy box, in front of the sofa, sat down and pulled back the top. Mom sat on her heels on the other side. She pulled a couple of tapes out, blew dust off them and turned them over.

"Wow - Lion King and Little Mermaid. Sarah will love these."

We took it in turns pulling a tape out, spent a while remembering it. There was Jungle Book, old Roadrunner cartoons that I almost had to watch there and then, a couple of movies Mom had bought, weepy romances and I teased her about them and she reached over and slapped me on the butt and said, "Behave, Tom. You're not too big to spank."

"Promises, promises," I replied, making her laugh.

Then I pulled a tape out and my stomach gave a little flip. I tried to casually slip the video down by my feet but Mom saw what I was doing and grabbed it. I made an attempt to keep hold but she gripped the case tight and pulled it from me.

She turned the tape over and laughed. "Trying to save me from seeing this, Tommy?"

I shrugged. It was an eighties porn movie. Big hair, big tits, big cocks.

"I've seen this one," she said, surprising me, and when she saw the look on my face, said, "Your Dad used to enjoy a little porn now and then. I guessed something was going on when he used to come upstairs more amorous than usual. I found him watching one once, and told him I wanted to watch it with him..." her face took on a dreamy look, and I could see her thinking back. She shook her head and laughed. "Good times, Tommy... good times."




Ali's Art Ch. 05



I reached to take the video back off her but she pulled it away.

"We'd better throw that out, or hide it really well," I said.

"I'll hide it," Mom said. "There should be another couple in there as well. I'd forgotten all about these." 

"Lucky we didn't get Sarah to open the box," I said.

Mom started pulling video cases out, piling the kid's titles to one side. She found a second, then a third porno tape, looked at the covers, turned them over to see the smaller scene shots on the back.

We started pulling the rest of the tapes out, then Mom stopped.

"I don't think I've ever seen this one," she said, and grinned. "Your father must have had a secret stash. I wonder why he never showed me this?" 

She turned it over and read the back, nodding, then added it to the other three.

"We can watch that later on, if you like," she said.

"Watch it?" I said. "Together?"

She looked at me and grinned. "Yeah. Together. It'll be fun, Tommy."

"Sure," I said. The thought of watching 80's porn with my mother made me uneasy, but it was also turning me on.

Mom put Sarah to bed that night, read to her, made sure she was fast asleep and came downstairs just before nine. She had showered to wash the cobwebs off, and changed into a short skirt made of a light material that floated around her legs, and a low cut top with thin straps. She looked sexy, the four thin lines made by her blue bra and the cream top crossing each other over her shoulders.

She poured herself a large glass of wine and curled up on the sofa, her legs draped over the edge, her toes not quite touching the carpet. I slid the first tape into the cranky old machine and wriggled back to sit on the floor, leaning back against the sofa. Mom's bare leg rested against my arm, and she pressed play.

The screen filled with static, then a title sequence overlaid with an occasional wavy white line. Cheesy music played, and we were treated to a brief flash of scenes from the coming movie.

Mom laughed. "I remember this one, Tom. It's pretty tame. You wanna skip it?"

"Tame?"

"Yeah. If I remember right, you don't even see a hard on, and I'm pretty sure it's tits and bums only." She hit stop and I crawled back to the machine, ejected the tape and slid in the next one. By common consent, even though nothing had been said, we were saving the mystery video for last.

I slumped back, and Mom hit play a second time.

More snow, more title sequences. This time it cut directly to the action and I saw, in quick succession, a young woman sucking a cock, the same woman on her hands and knees being pounded into from behind, and a different woman rubbing a cock hard as it jetted cum onto her face.

"That's more like it," Mom said, and I felt her leg press against my arm. "No point watching porn if it doesn't show anything, is there?"

"I guess not," I said.

"You OK with this, Tommy? Not embarrassed watching dirty movies with your Mom?"

"Not if you're not."

She giggled. "It's fun. But keep an ear out in case Sarah wakes up. Wouldn't want her catching us watching this, would we?"

"It's not quite Lion King, is it?"

The movie started, with some semblance of plot. A woman arrived home in the afternoon, making a show of being tired and hot. The camera tracked her through the house as she made her way to her bedroom, discarding items of clothing as she went. Walking into the bedroom she wore bra, panties, garter belt and hold up stockings. She opened a door into a large bathroom and slowly removed the remaining items of clothing, started the shower and stepped inside.

We were treated to a few minutes of her soaping herself before her fingers found her pussy and slipped inside.

Another five minutes and she brought herself to a climax. She was just recovering when a man walked into the bedroom. She appeared shocked, covering herself, then it became obvious it was her husband. He stripped and joined her and she quickly made him hard, went onto her knees and took his big cock into her mouth.

They moved from the shower to the bed, and she sucked him for a while longer before straddling him and slipping his cock into her pussy.

The usual positions were run through. Her on top, reverse cowgirl, him on top, her legs around her ears, her on all fours with him pumping in from behind.

She climaxed, or pretended to, three times. Then the man pulled out and she grabbed his cock, sucked him, then rubbed hard until he threw his head back and jetted an enormous rope of cum onto her face, followed by three more until she finished by sucking him clean.

"Mom, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, Tommy. Anything you want."

It was easier because she was sitting up on the sofa and all I could see was her slim, smooth leg beside me.

"Anything?"

"Of course." Her voice sounded a little husky, and I wondered if she was uncertain, or maybe turned on.

"Why do men always cum on their faces? Do women really like that?"

She laughed. "It's true - that always happens, doesn't it?"

"Seems a cliché, to me. So do women really like it?"

"Like it?"

"Yeah."

"You ever done that to someone, Tommy?" Mom asked.

I shook my head, then realized she might not be able to see it and lied and said, "No."

"Ever felt like it?"

"Kind of," I admitted.

"It was never something your Dad and me had tried, until we started watching these videos together," Mom said. "But then, one time I got carried away and said to him: "Cum on my face, Dave," and he straddled me and shot his load all over me."

"And?" I said. "What did you think?"

"I asked him to do it. And it turned me on. From the grunts he made and the look on his face it turned your Dad on a lot, too. It's the... the sense of giving in, or letting him do whatever he wants... I found that a real turn on. I don't know about other women, it's not the kind of thing you chat about over coffee, is it?"

"I guess not."

"And anyway, I love the taste of cum. I used to love it when your Dad came in my mouth. It's not so different to that."

"Oh." I didn't trust myself to say anymore.

On screen things had moved on. The woman was chatting with a girlfriend. And, as often happens (at least as often happens in porn movies), they decided it would be good to kiss, and shortly after that it felt right to take their clothes off and lick each other's pussies.

The husband came home and caught them on the sofa. Brief scene of shock, covering up, sly smiles and then the women were undoing his pants and his big cock was again being sucked.

Fifteen minutes later he splashed his seed across both their faces, directing it into their open mouths, cum dripping from them and onto their inflated breasts.

While five minutes of advertising for other movies rolled through, Mom asked, "You ever done it with two girls, Tommy?"

I thought back to Ali and Maggie, wondering if I might have come close then. I shook my head. "Afraid not."

"It's every man's fantasy, I hear. Is that true? Would you like to do that?"

"I guess," I said.

Mom nudged me with her leg. "Only guess?"

I laughed. "OK. Of course I would."

Mom joined in my laughter, sliding off the sofa at the same time and crawling over to the player.

"I'll change this one," she said. She knelt in front of the TV, her short skirt riding up, her slim thighs displayed almost to their tops. She swayed her butt as she ejected the tape and inserted the next one, almost as if she was being deliberately provocative. Then she turned and crawled back, her scooped top dipping to reveal her breasts cupped in a pale blue bra. She climbed back onto the sofa, sat back and put her leg against my arm, then shifted and lifted it over me, rested it on the other side so I now sat with one of Mom's legs on each side.

My head rested back against the sofa, against her inner thigh. Her skirt had ridden up, or been pulled, so it was now above the back of my head.

Mom hit play.

The third film was even more explicit. More positions, more jets of cum spraying across faces. Mom's legs tightened around me as the movie played through, and I became convinced I could smell the scent of her sex, close behind my head. Her fingers played with my hair, twisting and stroking it.

As two women, one white, one black, took turns sucking a man's cock, I said to Mom, "What about you, Mom? You ever been in a threesome?"

She laughed. "Some chance!"

"But you and Dad watched these movies. Didn't you ever want to try something like that?"

"Fantasy and reality are different things, Tommy. Your Dad knew that."

"And you?" I rested my cheek against her thigh, let my hand rest on her ankle.

"I always went along with your Dad."

One girl was now seeing how much cock she could swallow. The other one was licking her pussy, probing with a finger into her ass.

"But what did you want, Mom? Did you ever think about doing it with another woman?"

She was silent for a long time. I craned my head around to see her, but all I had a view of was up inside her skirt to her panties, and the damp patch showing on them.

"Did you ever have fantasies like that, Mom?" I asked.

"Maybe... once or twice."

"But you never did anything about it."

"There was never an opportunity. And those days are gone now." She sounded sad.

"I told you before, Mom, you're young, you're beautiful, and you're very, very sexy."

She laughed out loud. "Yeah, yeah, and the President knows what he's doing and Congress have the best interest of the country at heart."

I joined in her laughter and we watched as the movie played out. Mom gasped once as the man pulled out and shot an enormous jet of cum onto the exposed ass of one of the women, as the other tried to grab his cock and suck it.

She slid down again and crawled to the machine, inserted the last tape.

"OK," she said, crawling back and sitting down beside me, not bothering to get back on the sofa. "Let's see why your Dad didn't show me this one."

The picture quality, when it started, was better than the earlier tapes. The storyline involved rich men, their wives and a number of maids and butlers in some large castle, I guess somewhere in Europe from the scenery outside the windows.

Mom wriggled until she was half lying on the floor, then reached up and pulled some cushions down and stuffed them behind her head. She lifted her knees, and the light material of her skirt slid up along her thighs and pooled, covering her panties, but only just.

"Tommy, is this stuff turning you on?" she asked.

"Uhm," I said.

Then she shocked my by reaching over and putting her hand directly over the bulge in my jeans. She left it there a moment before removing it.

"I guess it is," she said.

"Sorry, Mom" I said.

"What for? I'd be more worried if it didn't turn you on."

We watched for five minutes, then Mom said, "Oh," very softly. "I guess your Dad didn't think I'd be into that kind of thing."

A man had pushed his cock into the asshole of one of the maids. She looked back at him over her shoulder and mouthed, "Fuck my ass!" Although it appeared he didn't need any encouragement.

"Was he right?" I said.

"Right?"

"You're not into that kind of thing?"

"It's all sex," Mom said, then, "You ever done that, Tommy? You ever fucked anyone in the ass?"

I shook my head. "No."

"I would have let your Dad do it," Mom said. "I was always curious. But he never seemed to be into it, or want to do it. Obviously he didn't think I would be, and kept this for himself."

"You would have let him?" I asked. My cock was burning now.

"Of course. Oh, I know most women aren't into anal sex. And I can see why. It's a bit weird. And I suppose it might hurt some. But the idea never bothered me. Just never got an opportunity."

"You're still young," I said, "And still..."

Mom punched me hard in the side. "And still sexy and beautiful, yeah, yeah, yeah."

"Well, you are!" I said, fighting back.

It was starting to get out of hand. Mom was trying to grab my hands, I was trying to stop her and at the same time push her down and away. Her skirt pulled up, showing her panties, pale blue to match her bra. A few of the buttons on her blouse popped free and her cleavage shimmered and swayed.

We mock wrestled for a couple of minutes, I took the opportunity to accidentally grab her boobs and ass, she accidentally touched my cock, then Mom said, "Time out," and flopped back onto her pillows, breathing hard.

I lay beside her, tried to discretely tug my jeans to give my cock some room.

On screen the man started to grunt. He pulled out of the woman's ass and she turned quickly, sucking his cock into her mouth just as he started to shoot.

Mom lifted her knees again, and this time I saw her hand slide onto her thigh and then rest on top of her panties. Her face was flushed and she was still breathing hard.

"This is starting to really turn me on, Tommy," she said.

"Do you want me to... you know... let you have a minute, Mom?"

"God no!" she said. "Don't go. Stay here with me, Tommy. But would you mind if I... I really need to bring myself off, Tommy."

Her fingers had started to move on top of her panties, rubbing her pussy beneath the thin material.

"Go ahead, Mom."

"You don't mind?"

I laughed softly. "What, a beautiful, sexy young woman bringing herself off right by my side...?"

Mom slapped me softly with her free hand. "Yeah, yeah. What about you, Tommy?"

"What about me, Mom?"

"You turned on as well?"

"I guess so."

"You wanna join in?"

"What, jack off?"

"Mm-hm."

"You'd be OK with that?"

It was her turn to laugh. "What, have a gorgeous, handsome young stud jack off beside me? Hmm... I think I could cope with that."

"And it's not, you know, too weird?"

"Me and you?" she asked, knowing exactly what I meant.

"Me and you," I said.

"Probably is. But I still need to make myself cum. And I guess you do too. It would feel weirder if we went up to our bedrooms and did it in private."

I nodded, but she may not have been looking, so I said, "It probably would."

"Then slip those jeans off and do it, Tom."

I hesitated, but Mom was already pulling at her panties and as I watched she slid them down her thighs and lay back. She tugged her skirt up, wrapping the spare material around her waist. I could see her blonde bush marking the top of her legs, saw her dip her fingers down below it and start to rub herself.

My cock felt like it was on fire, and I unzipped my jeans and tugged them down, pulled my shorts down and let my cock stand free. The feel of freedom, the cool air against it, almost made me shoot immediately. I held back hard and felt the surge ebb away.

Mom was frigging herself, looking down at my cock.

"Wow, Tom, you're real big, aren't you? I wondered what you'd be like."

"You did?"

She nodded, biting on her lower lip. "Of course I did. Haven't you ever thought about me like that?"

"Uhh," I said.

"You gonna rub that thing for me?"

I put my hand down and circled my cock, began to slowly slide my palm up and down its length.

On screen five people were fucking. Two men had their cocks in the asses of two of the women. A third woman was being eaten out by one of the women, being kissed by the another.

Mom undid the remaining buttons on her blouse and pulled it aside, pushed her free hand down inside her bra. I could see her nipples pushing up hard against the material.

"Oh fuck, Tommy, this feels good. I don't care if it isn't normal, it feels so fucking good rubbing my pussy like this with you by my side."

"Sit up, Mom," I said, and took my hand off my cock and pushed her shoulder. Mom leaned forward and I slid her blouse off, unclipped her bra, She shrugged her shoulders and let it drop off her breasts, lay back against the sofa. Her breasts were large, and still firm, hardly sagging at all. Her nipples were rock hard, and she rolled them between her fingers.

Then Mom took her hand from her pussy and reached across, laid it around mine. I could feel the slickness of her fingers against mine. She tugged my hand, pulling it away, and guided it across to between her legs.

"Will you do it for me, Tommy. Please...?"

"I'd love to," I said.

She moved her hand back and put it around my cock.

"And it's OK if I do this?" she asked.

"More than OK," I said.

"Mm..." Her slim fingers wrapped themselves around my cock and stroked me gently. As she reached the head of my cock they bumped up over the mushroom ridge and she stroked a finger over my urethra, slicking pre-cum down and along my shaft.

My own fingers had found the oiled inner folds of her pussy and I pressed two fingers insider her. I rested the palm of my hand against the hard nub of her clitoris and massaged it as my fingers dipped in and out.

Mom was breathing hard now and I could see a flush spread from her breasts and onto her neck. Her eyes were open and she watched her hand rubbing me. Her lips were parted and now and then her tongue flicked out and dampened them. I watched her large breasts shaking as my hand moved her, felt her hips rock up and down against me, desperate for release.

Mom's pussy was growing wetter as I worked her and loud squelching noises now came as my fingers slid in and out. She was gently sliding down as her body rocked, but this only allowed her hand better access to my cock, and she could now reach down and stroke my balls as well.

Mom's head was rocking, her mouth open as she gasped.

"God, Tommy, you're gonna make me cum so hard!" she hissed.

I increased my rhythm and she groaned, slid until she was completely flat on the carpet. I half turned towards her so her hand had a better angle onto my cock. I was ready to cum, just holding myself back until she achieved climax. And that point came suddenly. Mom jerked and cried out, biting her lip to keep the sound muffled, and I felt her pussy walls grip my fingers and she shook and trembled. A gush of warm fluid washed against my hand and she bucked, lifting her hips right off the floor, bridged between shoulders and feet and shook wildly as her climax exploded through her.

I kept my fingers moving as she jerked under me, slowed as she sighed and relaxed, stopped moving as she lay back on the carpet.

She opened her eyes and looked at me, smiled.

"Thank you," she said.

Her hand had stopped moving on my cock, pulling free as her climax arrived. Now she reached back for me, circled my hardness.

"You haven't cum, Tommy."

"I'm about to," I said.

She grinned. "Wanna cum on my boobs?" She lifted her left breast with her free hand, gave it a little shake.

"God Mom, are you sure?" I said.

"Thought you might." She grinned. "Come on, come up here against me Tommy."

She tugged, guided me and I straddled her waist. My cock rested between her large mounds and she pushed them together, trapping me between them.

"Fuck my tits, Tom," she said.

I rocked my hips, saw the head of my cock appear between her full mounds, saw it slide back as I moved my hips down.

I leaned forward and put my hands on the sofa either side of her shoulders, took my weight on my arms and feet and pushed between her breasts.

"God yes, Tommy, cum for Mommy baby!"

"Of fuck," I hissed, tipping over. I shook and looked down as a huge jet of semen spat from my cock and jetted up between Mom's cleavage. It splashed onto her chest, ran down onto her boobs and I shot again, higher up, spattering beneath her chin and Mom reached down and grabbed me and pulled me out of her cleavage and rubbed me hard and when I came again she pointed me directly at her face and I coated her cheek, her nose, her lips. She grinned, my semen dripping down over her parted lips and I shot a final time onto her teeth.

I shuddered, pulled back, rolled onto my back and collapsed.




Ali's Art Ch. 05



Mom turned to me, lying across my chest. She rubbed her breasts against my tee shirt, spreading my cum across it. Then she leaned over and kissed me, directly on the mouth. My cum coated her lips and it was slippery against mine. She opened her mouth and I responded, letting my tongue dart out, tasting my own cum on her lips, kissing her deeply as she kissed me back.

Finally she pulled back a little, kissed me again, softly, and said, "Am I a wicked mother, Tommy?"

I shook my head. "A wonderful mother."

"What just happened - it's not right though, Tommy."

"Did you want it?"

She looked at me and nodded. "I've wanted you to do that for... oh, a long time now."

"Really?"

She nodded again.

"And I've wanted to do that to you for a long time too, Mom."

"You have?"

I nodded and kissed her again.

She looked past me at the fireplace, at the clock above it.

"Happy Christmas, Tommy."

"Happy Christmas, Mom."

She kissed me again, deeply. "Do you want to sleep with me tonight, Tom?"

I looked at her. "I'd love to. But you know we can't. If Sarah came in, how the hell would we explain what we were doing?"

She nodded, knowing I was right, and rolled off me and pulled her clothes back on. We tidied up the room, like we did every night, like nothing different had happened, then went to our own beds.

Christmas morning, six a.m., Sarah bounced on my bed, rattling my head against the headboard, and said, "He's been, Tommy!" in a tight squeal.

"He has? Who's been?"

She punched me on the arm. "You know who. Santa. He's been. He put my present downstairs under the tree. Get up, Tommy, I want to open my presents."

"Aw, Sarah, I need a lie in this morning."

She giggled. "You do not, Tommy. Get up now, or I'll... I'll..."

"You'll what?" I grinned.

"I won't give you my present!"

I frowned. "You got me a present?"

"Duh!"

"Well, in that case." I pushed her off the bed, hard, and she landed on her butt on the floor and laughed. "Go wake Mom then, while I get dressed."

She jumped up and ran through and I heard her repeating, "He's come!" from Mom's room. I don't know if she really still believed in Santa or not. I was about her age when the magic began to fade, but I recalled I held on to the pretence for a couple more years because it felt good, and I didn't want to disappoint Mom and Dad. I can remember discussing the existence of Santa with Ali, and though she was older than me, and knew the truth, she told she had seen him one year and just knew he was real. I guess it was just one of the many reasons I loved her so much.

I got up, pulled on an old sweatshirt and pants and went downstairs were they were both waiting. Sarah was still in her Pocahontas pajamas and Mom had pulled on her old robe, and I smiled to myself.

There were three piles of wrapped presents under the small artificial tree. One of the piles was very small (mine), one pretty small (Mom's) and the third had a dozen boxes in different sizes.

Sarah was jumping from foot to foot, and Mom said, "OK, go on then," before she exploded.

Sarah squealed and picked up the largest box, tore the paper off. It was a Ken and Barbie, and she squealed again and turned to hug Mom. We watched her open her presents, sitting on the floor, trying to keep the discarded paper tidy, trying to note who each present was off. There was something from Ali, from uncle Dave and his wife, even a small one from Dag. Mom had bought her some clothes, a nice dress, some tops, but also a lot of chocolate and a lot of frivolous stuff Sarah would forget about in a year's time but which, this year, were perfect.

Sarah has left my present until last, finally picking up the wrapped box and shaking it.

She read the card and smiled. "Thanks, Tommy. Can I open it?"

"Of course you can."

She tore the paper off and gave the loudest squeal of the day, which made me feel bad. It was easy for me to spend money now, much harder for Mom.

"A Nintendo, Tommy, a Nintendo!" Sarah looked like the could hardly breath, and was shaking her head from side to side. "Mommy, look, a Nintendo, and games too, look, look!" She shoved the present right under Mom's nose, who pulled back, laughing.

Sarah opened the box and I helped her insert batteries. She sat on the sofa, crossed her little legs and stared hard as the screen lit up. She would be lost to us for the rest of the day. Mom and I watched her for a while, then I said. "You going to open yours, Mom?"

"You too," she said.

"Together?"

She smiled and nodded. "Together."

Mom had two presents for each of mine, but that was OK. She looked at the tags and put my present and Ali's to one side. "I'll open those last." She reached across and took a small wrapped box from my pile. "That's from me. You can open that last too."

We unwrapped. I had some art materials, a book of Renaissance painting reproductions with explanatory text, an Amazon gift card and, as usual from uncle Dave, $50 in cash. I could see why Ali felt the way she did about him, but I found it funny instead of insulting.

Finally there were just three presents left. I had pulled my new socks on my feet, all six pairs, and wore a new pair of new underpants on my head. Mom was behaving herself and had done nothing silly with the sexy underwear Ali and I had bought between us.

"You first," I said.

"Together," she replied.

"No. Open mine first, then I'll open yours, then you can open Ali's."

"OK," she nodded, and pulled at the wrapping.

Inside she found something soft wrapped in tissue paper and peeled it apart.

"Oh Tommy, it's wonderful," she gasped.

She stood up, letting the pure silk robe I had bought for her drop free. The material had a life of its own, soft and shimmering, the robe long, graphite gray, glowing in the morning light.

"Oh Tommy," she said again, and kissed me on the cheek.

"What you got, Mommy?" Sarah said, distracted from her game by Mom's emotional outburst.

"Look, baby," Mom said, holding the robe up against her.

Sarah looked, nodded. "Pretty," she said, and returned to her game.

Mom gave me a wry smile. "Can I put it on, Tom?"

"That's what it's for," I said.

She walked through to the kitchen. Sarah was facing away from her, but I was looking directly at her as she tugged the tie on her old robe and shucked it back off her shoulders. For a moment she stood there naked in front of me, making no effort to hide herself, then she slid the new robe on and tied it. She turned, twisted, the soft material clinging to her in a magical way.

She motioned me to come to her, and I went around the sofa and into the kitchen. She grabbed my sweatshirt and pulled me to one side, out of view of Sarah, and pulled me down to her and kissed me hard on the mouth.

"I love you so much, Tommy. Thank you."

I shrugged, but was pleased.

"Your turn now," she said, and pushed me back out of the kitchen.

I opened my present.

"I rang Alison, asked what you might want," Mom said. "She said you could use that."

I opened the box. Inside was a small digital camcorder. It was top of the range, with a high pixel count and a good lens, and Ali was right, I would use this.

I leaned over and kissed Mom on the cheek. "Thanks. It's perfect."

"What ya got, Tommy?" Sarah asked, but she didn't look up from her game.

"You got," Mom corrected her.

"What have you got, Tommy?" Sarah repeated.

I turned the camera on, said, "This. Look, Sarah," and as she glanced up captured the moment as she turned up to me and her mouth dropped open in surprise. Then she laughed and said, "Cool."

Only Ali's present was left. I had no idea what it was, though it was big, and if I had to guess I'd say it was a framed picture. I watched with a little trepidation as Mom unwrapped the paper. Surely Ali would not have given Mom one of "our" drawings, would she?

Mom lifted it up and studied it. I couldn't see what it was, but I did see tears well in her eyes and roll down her cheeks. She bit her lip and sniffed.

"What is it, Mom?" I asked.

She looked at me, tears still rolling down her cheeks. "Alison's such a thoughtful girl, Tom."

"She is," I said, impatient now. "What is it?"

Mom turned the picture to me, and I was stunned.

Ali had, somehow, managed to keep it a secret. It was a color sketch of me, done in oil crayon. It showed my head and shoulders against a pale background. She must have snatched a photograph and kept it back, worked on it in secret. I was looking off to one side, my eyes dark, hair tousled, a very faint smile on my mouth. I looked far too handsome and self assured, not at all like I felt inside, but I had to admit it was far and away the best thing of Ali's I had ever seen. There was something about it that tugged at my emotions, even made me a little uneasy. It was drawn with such love that I wondered how much of Ali's teasing was real.

"Wow," I said.

"Yeah, wow," Mom said. She wiped her arm across her eyes. "Whatever I say to Alison, I can never say thanks enough for this."

I nodded, seeing how much this meant to her.

"Wow what?" Sarah said, looking up again.

Mom turned the painting and showed her. Sarah looked at it, looked at me, nodded and said, "Mm, nice. Looks just like you, Tommy."

Mom looked at me and raised her eyebrows, then said to Sarah, "OK, my girl, put that down for now. Wash and dress, then we're going to church while the roast cooks and then we're eating way more than is good for us and then we're probably going to sleep all afternoon."

"Not me," Sarah said, holding up the Nintendo, but she turned it off and followed Mom upstairs to get ready.

I tidied the paper away in a black bag and went up to dress for church. It was about the only day of the year we went. Dad had always insisted, and after he died Mom had continued the tradition.

We were back by eleven, went upstairs to change into comfortable clothes with loose waitsbands. As Mom busied herself in the kitchen, and I annoyed her by filming everything she did. To start with she laughed and posed for me, holding the roast out to me with her leg stretched and toes pointed, but eventually she tired of the game and told me to turn it off.

We were sitting at the table by twelve-thirty. Mom had bought some good red wine, and we ate roast beef, potatoes done two different ways, corn, green beans, and gravy. Sarah drank juice, Mom and I shared wine, and after we couldn't eat any more Mom and Sarah cuddled on the sofa while I loaded the dishwasher.

I think we were probably all snoozing by three when the phone rang.

I was first up, falling off the chair. I picked up and listened, turned to Mom. "It's Mindy Cartwright, Mom. She wants to talk to you."

"Oh God," Mom said, but she rolled off the sofa and came across, smiled and took the phone.

I went back and slouched on the sofa next to Sarah.

Eventually Mom came back and scooted me across and sat beside Sarah, who was playing on the Nintendo.

"Honey?"

"Mm-hm?"

"That was Amanda's Mommy. She says Amanda's having a little party tonight, and wants to know if you want to go."

"Party?" Sarah said, her attention distracted.

"Sleep over party," Mom said.

This time Sarah looked up. "Sleep over?"

Mom nodded.

"Tonight?" Sarah tried to keep the excitement out of her voice but didn't make a good job of it.

Mom nodded again.

Sarah stood up, then sat down again. "What about you and Tommy? Can I go? Can I, Mommy?"

"Of course you can. Tommy can walk you over for five."

Sarah got up again and gave Mom an enormous hug.

"Will you miss me?"

Mom nodded. "Of course I will."

"But I can go?"

"Of course you can."

Sarah jumped up and down. "You and Tommy can have a sleepover," she said, and laughed.

Mom glanced at me, suddenly shy, and said, "Yes, I suppose we could."

I arrived back from taking Sarah across to the Cartwright's, took off my coat and gloves and wandered through to the living room.

Mom was stretched out on the sofa. She had been upstairs and showered, not bothering to dress when she came down, instead pulling on her new silk robe. It clung along her legs, outlining their full length, hugged her breasts which moved freely inside it.

She turned to look at me. "You hungry, Tom?"

I shook my head. "Not at all."

"Me neither. You can pour me some more wine though."

I went to the kitchen, opened a new bottle and filled two glasses, took them back through.

Outside it was dark and Mom had pulled the drapes, lit the fire. The room was shadowed, only a single tall lamp casting a yellow pool of light beyond the sofa.

I sat in the chair across from Mom and she turned her head and pouted. "Don't you want to come over here and give me a cuddle?"

"Do you think that's wise?" I said.

She continued pouting, then shook her head. "I don't suppose it is. But to be honest, I don't give a fuck if it's wise or not." She stared openly at me, and I think I was more shocked by her saying fuck than by what else she was implying.

She sat up and patted the cushion again. "Graham cuddle," she said, and I knew exactly what she meant.

I took off my shoes and slid in behind her, parting my legs so they went either side of her. Then she lay back against me and wriggled up so she was tight against my crotch. She grabbed my hands and pulled them around her, placed them very deliberately, one across her belly, one directly on her breast. The thin silk of the robe hid nothing, and it felt as if my hand lay directly on her skin. I felt her nipple stiffen under my palm, pressing hard against it.

Mom sighed deeply. "This is nice, Tom, don't you think?" She half turned back to look up at me and I nodded.

"Hug me tight, Tom, like you did last night..."

I pulled her back against me, kissed the top of her head, damp hair fresh against my lips.

Mom sighed again and relaxed against me. She had moved up and the back of her head level was with my lips, the full roundness of her ass resting against my lower belly. Her legs were stretched out and she lifted one and let it rest over mine.

I rolled her hard nipple between two fingers and she gasped lightly and I stopped.

She rocked her head and murmured, "No, it's OK Tommy, I like that."

I kissed her gently behind her ear and felt her shiver.

My other hand was still across her stomach, and I now used it to tug at the tie of her robe until the knot came free. I drew the soft material aside to reveal her naked body underneath, allowing my fingers to lightly trace across Mom's slim stomach as it became exposed.

Mom sighed again and said, "You can take some of your stuff off too if you want, Tom."

I lifted her away and pulled my shirt over my head. Mom moved to the far end of the sofa and watched me. She glanced down at my jeans and gave a tiny nod and I stood and unzipped them, tugged them down. It was obvious my cock was hard in my shorts, and she looked at me and nodded again and I pulled them down and sat back naked on the sofa.

Mom wriggled her shoulders out of her robe, folded it carefully over the arm of the chair, and came back to me, settling between my legs, both of us now naked, our skins touching in a thousand sensitive places.

My cock was rock hard and nestled in the curve of her back, the base tucked in between the round cheeks of her ass. I cupped her full breasts in my palms and rolled their weight, lifting and pressing against her, squeezing her hard nipples.

I kissed her neck and ran my tongue up the line of her jaw and on to the lobe of her ear and she sighed and shivered. I was beyond restraint now, knew what was coming next, and wanted it.

Still palming her breast in one hand I dropped the other to her thigh and slowly let my fingers rise up along the soft inner curve of her leg. I could see my hand caressing her as I peered down over her shoulder, taking in her large exposed breasts. She had trimmed her pubic hair, leaving a tuft of blonde hair in a strip above but removing everything else.

The scent of her damp sex rose up and encompassed us both. My cock was on fire and I wriggled in an attempt to ease the pressure and Mom moved her ass back against me and pushed and that didn't really help at all.

I traced the upper hollow inside her thigh, then across to her hip and back, but this time along the lower edge and continuing on until my fingers ran over her pussy lips. Mom shuddered and pushed herself back against me.

I cupped her pussy inside my hand, curling my fingers down and over her, feeling the heat and the moisture coming off her, and applied pressure so my middle finger parted her pussy. The lips of her labia felt smooth where she had shaved herself, and as I dipped my finger inside her the heat and wetness of her soaked it immediately. I gently insert my finger deeper and crooked my thumb under my palm so it lay against the hard nub of her clitoris. Mom responded by pushing her hips upwards against my hand, urging me to continue.

The head of my cock was soaked with pre-cum and I could feel it leaving a trail of slickness against her back, the base wedged between the upper cheeks of her ass, the length of it lying along her back, the head cradled in the valley of her spine.

"That's wonderful," she murmured.

I took her weight back against me, aroused beyond belief at the feel of her skin along the underside of my cock and within moments my pre-cum had slicked her spine and I felt myself moving along a lubricated groove as I humped against her.

I replaced my hand over her pussy and began to work more seriously. Mom was breathing hard now, rocking her hips and twisting herself so she could feel my fingers on her pussy and my cock against her back. I pressed her breast inside my hand and pulled on her nipples, transferring from one to the other, kissing her on the soft curve of her neck.

She began to make light grunting noises and the pulse of her hips became more rapid and I knew she was very close to cumming. I relaxed the muscle inside my ass and let my own pleasure build, wanting to cum with her. I increased the rhythm of my hand on her pussy, pressing my finger deep inside and rubbing hard with my thumb on her clit.

Her grunting became louder, synchronized with the push of her pubic mound against my hand, and then I felt her start to tremble, beginning in her thighs and then spreading to her stomach. She cried out softly, biting down on her lip to stifle the sound, and I rubbed her frantically and she bucked up away from me, fell back and bucked again.

My own arousal tipped over and I felt juices fill my cock and overflow. I spurted warm cum against her back, jet after jet exploding out of me and covering her. She gripped her legs together, trapping my hand, and I felt warm fluid gush onto my palm as she came, shivering and jerking, hissing between her lips.

Slowly she relaxed, leaning back against me, jerking now and then as the passion drained from her. She lay fully against me and wriggled, spreading my cum between us. My cock was still hard, still aroused and she could feel me where it lay along the curve of her back.

"Oh Tommy," she said gently," I know we shouldn't have done that, but I couldn't..." she stopped and I felt her shaking again and realized she had started to cry.

"Mom..." I was appalled at myself. I had made my beautiful mother cry, and all because I couldn't control myself.

She twisted against me and turned over, tears rolling down from her cheeks and dripping from her chin. She pulled herself up and placed her lips against mine and kissed me.

"It's OK, Tommy, it's OK. I... I couldn't stop myself... I didn't want you to stop... it's been so long since I've felt anything like that... thank you, Tommy... thank you." She kissed me again, more deeply.

"I love you so much, Mom," I said.




Ali's Art Ch. 05



She laughed softly and wiped at her face with the back of her arm. "I love you too, Tommy. You know that. But this is a different sort of love, isn't it, my sweet boy?"

"I don't mind, Mom. I really don't mind."

"Is that true, Tommy? Or are you just..."

I kissed her, cutting off her words. "It's true, Mom. You're just so sexy and so wonderful. If this is wrong then I want to be wrong all the time."

"Tommy," she said, resting her forehead in the crook of my neck. "I don't want you to stop, Tommy... Is that alright?"

"It's all alright," I said.

She pulled herself back up, her breasts still pressing deliciously against my naked chest.

"Then kiss me, Tommy, kiss me and then fuck me."

I knew it was wrong, but I lowered my face to hers and pressed my lips to her lips.

I felt her mouth open, and her tongue gently flick out and explore mine. She pressed her full soft breasts against me, then turned and sat astride me, holding the back of my head in both hands as she kissed me again.

Then she pushed me away and said, "More wine, Tom." And I padded naked through to the kitchen, glad the blinds were down because my half erect cock waggled in front of me as I walked. I poured wine and took it back, then picked up my new camcorder and grinned at Mom as I turned it on.

"What are you doing?" she cried.

"I wanted something to remember you by."

"You wicked boy!"

I laughed. "I think we've both been wicked," I said. "And I'm hoping we're going to be even more wicked."

"Me too," Mom said, and lowered her hands where she had covered herself. "You want to film your mother, Tom?"

I nodded, feeling my cock stiffen further.

"You want to put a show on for me, Mom?" I said.

"What kind of show?"

"If I wasn't here, and you were lying on the sofa like that, naked... imagine you're watching one of those dirty movies we saw last night... what would you be doing?"

"Oh... probably something like this," she said, and put a finger against her nipple and tugged it.

"What else?"

"This maybe," she said, and slid her hand down between her legs. She slowly parted them and I knelt and zoomed in, capturing her fingers as they dipped inside her pussy, then zoomed back out to take in the entire perfection of her body.

Her eyes sparkled as she looked up at me.

"Am I shocking you, Tommy?"

I shook my head.

"Come here," she said, still rubbing herself. "Come and kneel by me and put your cock in my mouth. Keep filming, but come here."

I felt myself flush hot, but got up and walked over, my cock now hugely engorged, still remembering to focus on Mom. I knelt beside her on the sofa and she turned her head. I moved the camera, caught her hand as it circled me, caught her leaning across and then watched as she opened her lips and sucked my cock inside. The camera jerked and moved away and I leaned my hips forwards and pushed more of my cock inside her mouth.

Mom pushed me back with her hand on my belly. "You've stopped filming, Tommy," she said.

"I want to fuck you, Mom. I want to fuck you so badly." I was shaking, not sure what to do with myself.

"I want you to fuck me too," she whispered.

I nodded. "Are you sure?"

There was no way I could stop what was going to happen, no way I wanted to stop it. I wanted her in every way she was willing to give. I let the camera turn itself off and dropped it onto the table.

I ran my hand down her neck, over the swell of her breasts and down to her stomach. She was slim and ran flat and taut from breast to groin. I let my hand drift lower, then teased it over her hip, drifting my palm across the smooth skin at side of her pussy where she had shaved herself and then I was running it down her thigh to her knee, her calf and her foot. I lifted her toes to my mouth and kissed them, sucking them between my lips and she moaned again.

"Make me cum again, Tommy," she whispered.

I grabbed her shoulders and turned her over, not being gentle but not hurting her. She splayed across the arm of the sofa, her back arched and her butt pointing at me. I leaned towards her and deliberately pressed the engorged head of my cock into the crack of her ass.

Mom raised herself, opening up her asshole to view, tiny and puckered and pale brown, so beautiful I had to kiss it. I slid downwards and kissed the back of her thighs, let my lips move slowly up, sometimes on the inside of her thighs, sometimes on the backs, reached her ass and kissed along the center curve and then finally gave in and kissed down the deep cleft between. I let my tongue flick out and just catch her budded asshole and she jerked and then moaned.

"God Tommy, no-one's ever done that to me."

"Want to me stop?" I said.

She shook her head, her curls flying. "No, don't stop. It's so dirty, so sensitive...I like it."

I smiled and licked her again and she groaned and I felt her push herself back onto my tongue and I slid the very tip through the folds and just inside her asshole.

"Oh God," she cried. "Tommy, stop. That's... I don't know what that is."

She tried to roll over and I allowed her to turn and lie in front of me, her thighs parted around my legs, and I gazed down at her sex revealed to me. The small tuft of hair at the front was hardly trimmed at all, but everywhere else she had shaved herself smooth. 

"You like?" she said, shaking her butt.

"I love," I replied.

"I shaved specially for you, Tommy. I'd let myself go, you know, down there. But I wanted it to be nice for you."

"You wanted this," I said.

"Tommy, I've wanted this for years," she said. "Now you're old enough, and I've stopped fighting myself."

I lowered my face to her sex and breathed in the musky scent of her. My tongue tickled her navel and I lowered it as slowly as I could as she pushed up against me. I reached her public bone and slid to one side, licking down the inside of her thigh on one side then back up the other, licking across the top, down and back, with each pass moving just slightly inwards until my tongue touched the outside of her lips and she shivered.

I continued, licking her pussy lips fully and then sucked each one between my lips.

Finally I let my tongue touch the space between her ass and her pussy, slid it up, parting her wet lips, dipping just inside until it bumped against the hard knob of her clitoris and I sucked that in between my teeth, sucked on it hard like it was a small cock. Mom hissed between her teeth and put her hands up to her hair.

I could feel her hips pushing against my mouth, and her breathing growing ragged. I lowered my tongue and pushed it in between her lips, extending it from my mouth and pushing it as far insider her as I could, pushed my head back and forward so my tongue fucked her.

"Oh Tommy, you're going to make me cum if you do that," she cried.

I lifted my face from her, her juices covering my cheeks. "Then cum," I said, and went back down, pulling her clitoris deep into my mouth again, inserting a finger into her soaking pussy.

She rocked herself onto me, wild and unbridled, pumping so hard I hardly had to move, just made sure my fingers and tongue and lips were in the right place. I felt a tremble begin in her stomach and grow. She grabbed the back of my head and curled herself around me, pulling back and then pushing hard out again as she started to cum.

"God yes, make me cum Tommy, make be fucking cum!"

She trembled, jerked, and I felt warm fluid gush into my mouth and I accepted it and swallowed. She ground herself against me, groaning deep in her throat, only slowly releasing my hair and letting me sit back. I stared at her laid out in front of me, arms and legs spread, her chest heaving and her large breasts trembling.

She opened her eyes and looked directly into mine.

"Did you learn how to do that in New York?"

I laughed. "Just naturally gifted, I guess."

"Tommy, I have never cum like that in my life. That was utterly wonderful." She sat up quickly and kissed me. "God, you taste of me," she said, and laughed, and I joined in.

"Oh I love you love you love you," she said, pulling my head onto her breasts. I felt myself enveloped by them and opened my mouth to suck a hard nipple in between my teeth. 

She pushed me away, "No more, not yet. Your turn now, Tommy. If you want me to, that is?"

I laughed again, "Fuck yes, Mom."

She shivered and opened her mouth, my profanity and the context exciting her.

"Come here," she said, pulling me to the sofa.

I lay half on and half off, and Mom slid down so that now she was between my thighs. She placed both her hands over the length of my cock.

"Tommy," she said in a small voice, "You have a wonderful cock."

"We don't have to fuck, Mom," I said.

She shook her head, making her curls fly. "Oh, but we do, Tommy. I can't see that and not want you inside me. But I'll have to make you cum first. We need to be careful, because you can't cum inside me. I'm not on the pill or anything."

"I've got some, uh, protection," I said.

She shook her head again. "Don't want anything between me and this beautiful cock. Just don't cum in me."

She sat on her heels between my thighs, leaned forward until the erect tip of her nipple touched the head of my cock, then pushed her breasts together and cradled me between the deep valley between them, rolled them from side to side over me.

Then she drew back and dropped her head and I felt her tongue licking along the inside of my thigh, reaching the top of my leg and drifting across my swollen ball sac. She opened her mouth wide and sucked one of my balls into her mouth, wetting it all over with her tongue.

When she released me she said, "When did you start shaving your balls, Tommy?"

"Oh, uh, a couple of months ago, Mom."

"It's nice, all smooth. Does it feel nice?"

"It does," I said, "especially when you're doing that."

"I'll do it again then," she said, and started to work on the other side. At the same time she reached up with her hand and gripped me around my cock head, stroking her thumb across the opening and smearing pre-cum all over the mushroom head.

For the first time in years I felt I was out of control, and could release my seed at almost any moment. I pushed my hips up, straining against her touch and she gripped me with her other hand and began to stroke me, one at the head, another half way down.

Mom put her hand above my cock and dragged her fingers through my pubic hair.

"You've trimmed these too, haven't you?"

"Uhm..." I felt caught out, suddenly a little boy again who had done something wrong.

"Come on, you have, haven't you?" She looked up at me with a wicked grin, and the moment broke. What the hell was I feeling embarrassed about? My Mom was gripping my rigid cock, her tongue had just been licking my shaved balls, and I was shy because I had trimmed my pubic hair?

"We were doing some work on renaissance paintings, sculpture and stuff, and I noticed all the men had no pubic hair. So I experimented," I said.

"Mm," Mom said, intrigued. "Did you take it all off?"

I nodded, sitting up on my elbows, watching as she kissed the underside of my glans.

"At first, yeah," I replied, thinking it wise not to tell her it had been Ali who had shaved me clean.

She tugged at my short pubic hair again. "I'd have paid to see that," she said.

I laughed. "You could have looked for free, Mom."

She smiled and ran her tongue over the underside of my cock, along the solid ridge running all the way up. Her lips covered me in tiny delicious nips, and slowly rose until they kissed the hooded glans.

She pulled herself up, heavy breasts pressing against my thighs, and put the tip of my cock against her lips, just pressing me to them. I pushed upwards and she moved with me, keeping me in the same place, then when I went back down she followed, didn't stop and I slid tightly between her lips and felt the head of my cock pop into her mouth. She held me hard there, her tongue working into the opening, teasing more fluid from me, then relaxed her lips and slid me further in.

Slowly, very slowly she took me deeper into her mouth, enveloping me in her wet warmth. I groaned softly and she lifted her head away and looked up at me.

"OK?" she said.

I nodded.

"I think, under the circumstances, you can call me Heather if you want."

I looked down at her as her wide mouth opened and enclosed me again.

"Can I... do you mind... if I don't?"

She slid off me, a trail of saliva joining my cock and her lips.

She shook her head. "No. You want to still call me Mom?"

I nodded.

"Even when I'm doing this?" She opened her mouth and slid me deep, deep inside her. I felt my cock brush against her back teeth, then she pulled off.

She looked up and me again and I nodded.

"Is that kinky? Calling you Mom? It's just... it wouldn't be the same calling you Heather."

"That would turn me on, too, Tommy," she whispered.

She kissed the very tip of my cock, probed my urethra with the point of her tongue. Her hand cradled my balls, stroked my inner thigh.

"You can cum in my mouth when you're ready, Tommy," she said.

"I know I can," I replied, and she smiled and lowered her head back down, working inwards in the same slow way, taking me fraction by fraction into that delicious cave.

I could feel more than half of my cock now buried in between her lips, and wondered when she would stop, but she just continued working me further and further in until the head of my cock reached the top of her throat. I felt resistance and held my breath, waiting for her to gag and pull away, but instead she breathed deeply through her nose and sucked me harder and I felt myself fill the top of her throat, felt the muscles working around my head and she pushed and sucked and I slid down inside her throat, slid all the way inside until her lips pressed hard on my public bone.

She must have been choking, I was sure, but she made no sign of it and continued to suck on me. After what seemed like forever she let me slide back out and I heard her gasp for breath and looked down to see her nostrils dilate, five inches of my cock still buried in her mouth. Her chest heaved as she filled it with air and then she drew me all the way back down her throat.

My cock was buried its entire length for half a minute, then she released it, gasping, and climbed up onto me, wriggling along my body, until she reached my mouth and kissed me. I could taste my cock on her lips and it only excited me more.

"I want you to fuck my mouth, Tom. Fuck it hard and cum in my mouth," she whispered in my ear.

"Yes," I said. "I want to do that."

She slid back down, but instead of taking me back between her lips she lay on the sofa, her legs hooked over the back cushions, her head just hanging over the front.

"Do me like this, Tom. Stick that big cock all the way in and fuck my mouth."

"Oh God, Mom..." I was lost. I turned and put my knees on the edge of the cushions and she gripped my cock and pulled me to her mouth.

Leaning forwards, I gripped the back of the sofa as my cock touched her lips. She put a hand on my butt and pulled me further in. I adjusted my legs, taking more weight on my feet, and kissed her foot. Her head was hanging back, her neck stretched, and she pushed me away for a moment and said, "I want all of it, Tom. Don't worry about me, just fuck my mouth. I want all your cum in my mouth."

I looked down and stroked between her lips and saw them twitch into a smile.

She put both hands on my butt and pulled me in, pulled me harder as I felt myself bump against the top of her throat, pulled me until my balls were resting on her face and my cock was buried deep in her throat.

That was it then, and I couldn't control myself anymore, didn't want to control myself anymore, and I let the pressure shoot up along the core of me and explode into her throat, felt her swallow as my cum filled her throat, felt her gag now as I shot load after load into her and I had to pull back and I ejaculated more into her mouth, saw my seed white on her lips, a final spurt splashing her nose and cheek and sliding down onto her chin, dripping and sliding over her face.

She looked up at me and then drew me back inside, sucking hard to extract the very last drop of my seed. She held me there as I began to shrink, kept me there as the blood flowed back, kept me there as I stopped and waited and slowly began to grow hard inside her mouth. Only when I was almost fully hard again did she let me go.

Trembling, I slid backwards, gripped her waist and tugged so she half slid off the sofa, but it brought her pussy closer and I buried my mouth in its delicious folds.

Mom allowed me to lick her for a moment, then she pushed me away, back onto the sofa and climbed up along my body, pressing and rubbing her nipples against me as she came, straddled me and bent to kiss me on my mouth, opening her lips so that some of my cum dripped from her tongue onto mine and I licked it and swallowed, licked the side of her face and swallowed the juice I took from there, out of control now, shameless.

"Fuck..." I said.

"Good?" she asked.

"Incredible," I answered.

She reached down and wrapped her hand around me, reaching back through her thighs to me. Despite having just experienced the most intense orgasm of my life, I was still semi-hard. She guided me to the entrance of her pussy and I felt her lips part around me, hot and damp. I pushed up and she again moved away, then smiled and sank down, sliding me inside and then stopping.

"God, you're so big. I can feel you stretching me wide."

"OK?" I said.

"Fuck yes," she hissed and sank onto me, letting me sink far, far inside of her until her naked shaved pussy lips squashed against my pubic hair and then she wriggled, trying to push me further.

She gasped and pressed her hand flat against her stomach and grinned. "I swear, I can feel you inside me, here," she said.

I began to push myself up into her, sliding half way out and then burying my cock deep inside. She threw her head back and lifted her hands to her own breasts and grasped them, rolling them under her hands, pulling at her own nipples.

I placed my hand so my thumb rubbed her rock hard clitoris and she drew her breath sharply in.

"Tommy," she gasped, "Don't forget - I'm not - I'm not on - anything - so you - you can't cum - inside me..."

I gazed at her and waited until her eyes opened and nodded. "I promise," I mouthed.

She smiled and closed her eyes again. "Good boy." And gave herself to the waves of passion rolling through her, riding my cock buried deep, deep inside her, breathing faster and faster. I lifted my hands and covered her breasts, pulled at her nipples when they appeared, lifted my head forward and strained to reach them and sucked and licked them, covering them with my saliva.

"Nnnh," she said, "I'm cumming again, Tommy, cumming now, of yes, oh fuck my darling boy, fuck me hard now, I'm fucking cumming now!"

She groaned and started to shake, releasing her breasts which shook and swayed and jiggled and I felt the muscles inside her pussy walls grip me and squeeze. She hissed and clapped a hand over her mouth, holding back a shout and I believe she had forgotten we were alone and she could make as much noise as she wanted. Mom held her hand tight over her mouth and her entire body shook, trembling and air hissed out through her nose and she collapsed onto my chest.

"Fucking hell..." she moaned, "You're an animal, Tommy... and so am I. Did you cum?"

I shook my head and kissed her sweat beaded forehead.

"How the hell could you not cum then!"

"I promised," I said.

She kissed me, softly. "I want you to sleep with me tonight, Tommy."

I nodded, and she took me upstairs.

I was woken at dawn to find her with my cock, hard again, buried between her lips. I threw back the covers so I could see and she smiled up at me, mumbled "Morning," without taking my cock out of her mouth, and returned to her task.




Ali's Art Ch. 06



On the last Tuesday in January I was walking back to class from the cafeteria when a tall guy in jeans and t-shirt fell into step beside me. From the corner of my eye I saw him glance at me, and I waited to see what he wanted. It happened, now and then - people had heard of Ali or me and were curious, or worse. Sometimes is was OK, sometimes it was a pain in the ass. I couldn't decide which this guy was - he didn't look dangerous, a couple of inches taller than me, broad shoulders, dark hair cut short. He seemed too ordinary to be ordinary.

After fifty paces he still hadn't said a word so I slowed and then stopped.

"Do you want something?" I asked.

"You're Tom Graham, right?"

I nodded.

He hesitated.

"Can I do something for you?"

"It's... well, a bit awkward. My girlfriend said I should talk to you, but now I'm here it feels weird, man."

"Is it about what we do?" I said. "The website?"

"I guess so," he said. He looked away from me, obviously nervous. I didn't really have time for this, I was due back in class in five minutes.

"We're pretty much covered for artists at the moment," I said. "But if you give me your name I'll keep you on file and get back if anything comes up."

"It's not that," he said, and took a deep breath to calm himself. I could see the decision form in his eyes. "Sandy - she's my girlfriend - told me what you do. She knows Ali from a few years back. She thought..." He breathed deep again. "She wondered if you had any use for models."

"Models?" I said, taken aback. "What kind of models?" I looked him up and down quickly. He was well built, broad shouldered and slim waisted. But I wasn't sure we were into taking on models yet.

"Sandy and me, we're saving up to get married, money's real tight, and she thought if you needed models to - you know - do stuff so you could draw them, take photographs, movies, whatever - she said she was up for it and I guess I am too, so..." He tailed off, his face coloring at this speech, and looked at me.

"Wow," I said, then, "I don't know, man." I held my hand up as his face fell. "No, I don't mean no, it's just I'd need to discuss something like this with Ali, you know? And I guess we'd need to meet you and your girlfriend, see how we got on. What we do is not something everyone is into, know what I mean?"

He nodded. "We've looked at your site. We both have a pretty good idea what might be involved, but we're cool with that... Cool," he added.

"I tell you what. I'll talk to Ali tonight and see what she says. Have you got a number I can call you on?"

"Only a shared one. We live in this like really shit house, but the rent's cheap and we're trying to save everything we can."

He gave me his number and I wrote it on my arm.

"I'll call," I said, and held my hand out. He gripped mine and shook it, looked shy again and then turned back up the corridor. I smiled as he walked away - he had a good back as well as a good front. I realized he hadn't told me his name, so I called after, "Hey, man, what's your name?"

He stopped and turned back. "Jack," he said, and walked on. I wrote the name under his number and turned to go to my own class.

By the time I got home it was after seven and I had forgotten all about the earlier conversation. Ali made salad, and as I always did when she produced food I told her I really was going to start cooking as well and after she'd punched me on the chest we sat at the big kitchen table, cross wise on one corner so we weren't too far apart, and talked as we ate.

Afterwards we cleared the table and I rolled my sleeves up to do the dishes. As Ali did all the cooking, I always washed up. As I ran water into the sink I rolled my sleeves back and Ali said, "Got a hot date then, Tom?"

"A date?"

"The number, on your arm," she pointed.

I looked down and remembered. "Oh yeah, that. No, not a date. Weird conversation at lunchtime."

I told Ali about Jack and Sandy. When I had filled her in I finished by saying. "I'd completely forgotten about him, but you know, I think it might not be a bad idea. We can't let ourselves get stale, and some new models will keep us sharp."

Ali seemed to be mulling it over.

"What are they like?"

"He seems okay. I think he'd draw well. I've not met his girlfriend."

"What if she's a real dog?"

I shrugged. "I've not promised him anything, Al. We just say no thanks."

She sighed. "God Tom, I'm not cut out for these kind of decisions. This is like Personnel stuff, you know? I just wanted to draw dirty pictures and sell them."

She looked so forlorn I put my arms out and hugged her to me and she crossed her arms over her chest and let me hold her.

"I tell you what, " I said. "Let's get them both over tomorrow night. We'll give them dinner - I got the impression they'd be glad of a free meal - and then we'll see what they're like. If we don't like them, they're weird, or she's too ugly we'll send them on their way. There's no more to it than that, Al."

I felt her nod her head.

"So I'll call him?" I said.

She nodded and pushed away from me. "Okay. I'm just being stupid, Tom. This was all my idea in the first place. It's no good complaining about it now."

"And the money's coming in," I said.

"I've been thinking about that," Ali replied. "We've made over $50,000 now since we started. This feels like it's turning into a business. I think we need help with that as well."

I nodded. "Sounds good to me. I hate the business side, you know that."

"I'll ask around," she said. "There's bound to be someone in the Business School who'd like a little extra cash."

"I've been thinking about the IT side as well, Al," I said. "I've about reached the limit of my knowledge now, and I don't want to learn any more, it's just not what I'm into. How about we ask around and see if there's someone wants to help out there as well?"

She nodded and turned away. "I'm going to do some sketching."

I watched her walk across the room and down into the work area, admiring the way her ass moved inside her jeans, then shook the inappropriate thoughts out of my mind and called Jack.

They arrived early, keen and shy, and I shook Jack's hand and then hesitated, not sure what to do with Sandy, then she offered her cheek and I planted a kiss there. Ali was still working over in the kitchen and she half turned and called "Hi," and went back to her preparations.

"Drink?" I asked, walking them across to the big kitchen table. "Beer, wine, I don't think we've got anything stronger."

"Beer sounds good," Jack said.

I looked at Sandy. It was very easy to look at Sandy.

"Wine?" She sounded uncertain, asking me if it was okay.

"Red or White? We might even have some Rose."

"White?"

I got their drinks, poured a glass for myself and put one down beside Ali, making sure she knew it was there, then sat at the table.

Jack pulled on his beer and sat back in his chair, seeming relaxed. Sandy gripped her glass between both hands, leaning forward and looked nervous. I tried to make small talk, but I'm not really too good at it, and after a while I got up and put some music on. Van Morrison, something pretty old, background music.

When I sat back at the table Sandy had taken a sip from her drink and her shoulders seemed to have unbunched some.

I looked her in the eyes, waiting until hers lifted to meet mine, and said, "Are you OK with all this, Sandy? Jack said it would be alright, but we want to know you're fine with it as well."

She gave a half smile. "I am," she said, "It's just I'm nervous, I guess."

"There's no pressure here, just so you know that."

She nodded and sipped from her glass. I watched her for a moment, amazed at how she looked. She was one of the sexiest creatures I had ever seen. Very occasionally you come across someone like Sandy - they are completely unaware of the vibe they give out, but she broadcast sex appeal. She was shorter than Ali by maybe an inch or two, making her about five-six. Her hair was ice-white blonde and cut short to show her ears, longer on the top but trimmed hard at the neckline.

Her eyes were large, a bright ice blue, with long pale lashes. Her brows were also white, thin and curved. A small nose set above a wide, full lipped mouth. Her cheekbones were shadows high beside her eyes, and her chin framed it all beautifully.

She had a long graceful neck that swept down inside her sweatshirt.

It was difficult to tell what her figure was like because the sweatshirt was baggy and loose. There were definite curves, but it was impossible to tell what they might be like. She wore faded blue jeans which hugged her hips and legs.

Overall she shouted sensuality, but I was sure she didn't know that, and her ignorance of the effect she had made her even sexier. Jack, I thought, was an extremely lucky man.

"This was kind of Sandy's idea," Jack said, and I realized I had been staring for too long and jumped.

"We were messing around a while ago now. Six months, maybe, yeah?" He looked at Sandy for confirmation and she nodded. "And I said to Sand that she was too gorgeous to keep to myself and we ought to screw out on the landing so everyone could see. I thought she was going to punch me out, but she said something really wild. Tell Tom what you said to me, Sand."

She looked down into her glass and I thought she wasn't going to speak, then she said, very quietly. "I said I'd find it a real turn on if someone was watching."

Jack laughed and emptied his beer. I got up and opened another bottle for him.

"I thought she was pulling my chain," he continued, "But she said no she really did get turned on at the thought of someone watching. So we talked about it a bit, worked away around the edges of what she meant, but we haven't done anything about it before now. Then when I heard about you, well..." he shrugged.

Ali had finished cooking and started piling food on the table in large white bowls. Salad, chicken, noodles, various sauces. She put the half empty bottle of wine on the table together with an unopened bottle.

"Help yourself," she said. They did and started eating.

After we had filled out plates, Ali said, "So you really wouldn't mind us taking pictures?"

Sandy shook her head. "Like Jack said - I think I'd get off on it."

Ali nodded and glanced at me. I gave a little nod, but we weren't all the way there yet.

The conversation moved to less emotive topics and we found out they both came from the Mid West, had been high school sweethearts and didn't want to split up so came to college together. They wanted to get married, but money was tight. It seemed both their parents were dead, or weren't around much, they were a vague about that, but whatever the truth was there was no help coming.

Jack was studying Journalism and Sandy Accounting. Someone less like an accountant I couldn't imagine, but she seemed genuinely into the subject.

We took our time over the food, talking, getting to know each other. I opened the second bottle of wine, then another as Jack started drinking it as well.

We left the dishes on the table and I pointed them to the couch, pulled up a chair and sat to the side.

Ali came across with her camera and said, "Would you mind if I took a couple of shots? Just to see what you come across like?"

They were both pretty relaxed now and laughed. "Do you want us to get naked as well?"

"If you want," Ali said.

They continued smiling, unfazed.

"It would be good to know you haven't got any weird tattoos or piercings or anything. Or a huge scar somewhere," Ali said.

"Nothing like that," Jack said, laughing again, and stood up. Without any hesitation he pulled his tee shirt up over his head. I heard Ali taking shots as his torso came into view. It was worth taking a record as he undressed so we could study him at all stages later on.

Sandy joined him and repeated his movements, tugging her too big sweatshirt up over her head. Her breasts were large and rounded, filling a tight white bra that was designed more for support than beauty.

Jack unbuckled his belt and pulled the zip down on his jeans. Sandy matched him.

Jack tugged his jeans down and kicked them off. Sandy slid hers down over her hips, having to wriggle to get them over, then she too kicked them away.

Jack had just gray briefs on, Sandy her bra and a pair of sensible white panties. Both of them seemed completely unfazed stripping if front of us, or of Ali snapping each stage of their disrobing.

Jack put his hands inside his short and Ali said, "No need for that if you don't want to. I think we've seen enough to know you'll do."

Jack laughed and pushed his briefs down. "It's cool. Besides, for all you know I might have a ring through my cock."

Her straightened up and I heard Ali gasp and whisper, "Holy fuck!"

He had the biggest cock I had ever seen. It was not hard, but even so it looked to be about six inches long and hung heavily down between his legs, swinging slightly as he straightened up. He looked down at himself and grinned, "Oh, yeah, maybe I should have warned you about that."

I stared, then forced myself to look away in case he got the wrong idea. Ali was always telling everyone I was gay, and I didn't want him to feel uncomfortable - or me.

Sandy reached behind and unclipped her bra, drew it down over her arms and tugged it away from her breasts. They shook free and swayed, large and firm, heavily curved underneath where they dipped slightly onto the top of her belly, very pointed where they peaked at her nipples. She had very large aureoles, but they were extremely pale and could barely be differentiated from the skin of her breasts. Her nipples were large, pink and puckered. Pale blue veins showed through the smooth skin along their heavy curved sides.

She leaned forward and her breasts dipped and swayed as she slid her fingers inside her panties and tugged them off. She straightened, showing us her perfect pussy, legs slightly parted as though to display herself that much better. Her pubic hair was trimmed but not shaved and was as white as the hair on her head. The outer lips of her pussy were very full and pushed together so the slit between was tight. She turned to display herself, turned so we could see her ass, then turned back. She was an unbelievable package.

"So how big does that thing get?" I said, finding my voice.

Jack looked down, swung his hips so his cock moved. "About nine inches."

"Nine and a half," Sandy said. "I measured him only last week."

"Yeah, you did," Jack laughed. "That was fun."

Sandy smiled shyly. "It gets really thick, too, when it's hard. Too thick for some things I wanna do."

"So," Jack said. "Do we pass the audition? Or we could fuck for you, if you want? Sand would like that." He glanced at her and she looked down, blushing but saying nothing.

"That's OK," I said. "We'll save that for when you come back."

Jack shrugged. "Cool. But we will if you want."

"You can get dressed now," Ali said.

Jack's face fell at her tone, and Ali realized she had sounded cold and went on, "Sorry Jack, Sandy, that didn't come out right. I just thought you'd be more comfortable if you were dressed. We definitely want to use you, if you still want to do it."

Jack grinned and Sandy smiled. "Great," he said. Sandy nodded.

They started to pull their clothes back on. I noticed Jack's cock had filled since he took his shorts off, still hung down but was now over seven inches. They dressed quickly. Sandy left her bra off and pushed it into her shoulder bag.

"When do you want us to do this?" Jack asked.

"This weekend?" I said. "Saturday or Sunday, whichever's best for you."

"Saturday," Sandy said. "Saturday's good."

I nodded. "Okay."

"We haven't talked money yet," Ali said. "Do you want to know how much we'd pay you?"

"Sure," Jack said. He was trying to look cool about it, but it was obvious the money was important.

"How does two-fifty sound?" Ali said.

"Two fifty bucks? Fuck yeah!" Jack said, and Sandy grinned and nodded. "We'd do fucking anything for two-fifty bucks, man."

"We should talk about that as well then," Ali said. "We only want you to do whatever you're comfortable with."

They both nodded.

"So if there's something you particularly want, or don't want, just say."

"Hey, we're cool with anything," Jack said.

"Oral?" Ali asked.

This time is was Sandy who nodded and replied, "Sure." She seemed to have found her confidence now and continued, "I love blowing Jack. And fucking, or course, you'll want us fucking. And we're both into anal if you want that too, although to be honest that's tough because Jack's too big really."

Ali just nodded and I coughed and said, "We'll see what you feel like Saturday, yeah?"

"Sure," Sandy said, and she turned to Jack and said, "And we'll not fuck until then, so you get a chance to build up a good head of cum, yeah?"

Jack shrugged, "I guess." It was only just over two days away, and I wondered how often they fucked each other. But then, if Sandy was my girlfriend, I'd probably fuck her four times a day.

We agreed that they would come back on Saturday at 2 p.m., but of course they arrived early. Ali and I had worked up a couple of story lines because we wanted the sequence to appear as though there was a plot involved. Ali had also gone shopping and came back with a new outfit for each of them.

After consulting with Ali, my Mom had bought me a new digital camcorder for Christmas, and we had talked and decided that this would be a good time to try it out. The Nikon was good, and my own smaller compact was also fine, but we had both become aware that we were missing potential scenes because we were relying on our own judgment when to press the shutter. The camcorder would capture everything, not in such high resolution, but for our purposes it was more than adequate.

We sat them at the kitchen table and handed the few story ideas we had come up with to them and went through what we wanted. 

"We're going to do this as though you have just come home. Pretend you live here," I said.

Sandy looked around wistfully and Jack said, "Cool."

"Ali's got some clothes we'd like you to wear. Nothing crude, just some nice stuff that'll show off your figures."

They both nodded.

"And you come home and start kissing, fondling," I said. "You make your way to the couch and Jack starts to undress you, Sandy. We want you to leave some clothes on, so the contrast is sexier between what can be seen and what can't." 

"And then move into Tom's bedroom," Ali said. "I think if you could go down and take that thing of Jack out of his pants and blow him. But you can't cum yet, Jack."

"Shoot," he said, and grinned.

"If you think you're going to cum, let me know," I said. "The cum shot needs to be captured properly. I know it's not very romantic, but that does need to be stressed. So if you're going to cum say so and I'll tell you what to do."

"And you can't cum inside Sandy, you'll have to cum so we can catch it on film," Ali said.

"You can cum on my face," Sandy said. "You know I like it when you do that."

Jack nodded.

I swallowed. Just talking about this was making me hard.

"It would be good if Sandy makes you cum though," I said. "It looks better than if you just jack off on her."

Jack grinned and nodded, "Sound fine to me."

Ali handed them both a paper bag with their clothes in. "You can change in my bedroom if you want. But don't start anything without us."

They grinned and took the bags through to Ali's room, didn't bother closing the door. I guess we had already seen them both naked, and they didn't seem at all stressed at the idea of what they were going to do. I could hear them talking softly, caught the odd word as Sandy seemed to be directing Jack over how the action would proceed.




Ali's Art Ch. 06



I looked at Ali and she smiled at me. "This is something new, huh?" she said. "You OK with this?"

I nodded.

"I'd like you to handle the camera. You're better than me. I'll take a back seat, butt in if I think they're getting carried away or off track."

I nodded again and went to prep the equipment. I slipped the old memory card out of the camera and inserted a brand new 8 gig card, large enough for over an hour of filming.

Jack and Sandy came back through. Ali had shown me the clothes last night. She had gotten tight hipster shorts for Jack that would hug his upper thighs, a pair of loose cotton pants, slip on shoes, a blue button down shirt and a loose linen jacket. For Sandy there was a matching bra and panties in a pale blue, fashioned from sheer nylon that would appear semi-transparent. A short dress that buttoned up the front completed the outerwear, but she had also purchased hold up stockings and a garter belt. The outfits had added $300 dollars to the cost, but it would make a difference.

"You two look gorgeous," Ali said.

Jack grinned. "I've never felt so yuppie," he said.

"And I feel like... like an Accountant," Sandy said. "And really sexy. I like these stockings, Ali. I like them a lot."

Jack nodded. "I liked watching her putting them on too."

"Good. You know you can keep it all when we're through here?"

Sandy's eyes widened. "What?"

"Well, it's not going to fit me, and Tom's shorter than Jack, so the stuff's yours."

Sandy seemed overwhelmed and there looked to be the start of tears in her eyes. She came across to us, a little unsteadily in her heels, obviously not used to them, and hugged Ali and then me.

"OK," I said. "We'll try and keep out of the way as much as we can. Ali's going to sit over there in the corner, I'll try to be as unobtrusive as I can. Go outside and then come in. You know what we want?"

They both nodded.

"Let's do it," I said.

Ali sat on one of our new sofas. I rechecked the battery was charged and everything was ready, shot five seconds of Ali and played it back and nodded. I positioned myself to the side of the doorway and as they came in, hand in hand, started to film them. It was the first ever time I had tried to do this, and I was sure it was poor camera work. For our needs, it would be good enough.

As they came through the doorway Jack pushed it closed with his hip and slipped his arm around Sandy's waist, pulling her against him.

"That was an amazing night," he said.

Sandy nodded and reached up to kiss him, putting her arms around his neck. "And it's not over yet," she said when they pulled apart.

They had obviously rehearsed some kind of script between themselves and were going full out for it.

Jack ran his hand down Sandy's slim back and laid it flat on the full curve of her ass. They kissed again and I moved around as Sandy ran her hand down Jack's stomach and over the bulge in his pants. When they separated she tugged his hand and pulled him over to the couch, but they didn't sit. They drew together and kissed again, and now Jack began to undo the top buttons on Sandy's dress. She put her head back, showing off her long neck and allowing me to better see Jack's hand as the buttons slid out, better to see her bra appear and the full swell of her breasts cupped in the slightly too small bra.

When the top five buttons were loose she pulled Jack down and kissed him again, then he slid his hand inside the dress and began to caress her breasts through the sheer material. One breast was now completely clear to view, and as Jack pulled at her nipple it grew hard and pushed up against the material. Sandy gave a little growl deep in her throat and her hand dropped to Jack's fly and began to work it loose.

I continued filming Jack fondling Sandy's breast then transferred to his crotch as Sandy started to pull his belt loose.

Ali walked across and said, as gently as she could, "Go through to the bedroom first please."

They stopped and looked at her then nodded, smiling, not phased by the instructions.

Sandy looked into Jack's eyes and took his hand, led him through to Ali's room which we had prepared earlier. I photographed them going through, followed them and continued filming as Sandy lay back on the bed, her dress riding up her thighs, revealing the tops of her stockings and the thin blue lines from the garter belt holding them up.

Jack stood beside the bed and Sandy turned and started on his belt again, worked it free and then unclipped the button on his pants and slid his zip down.

I had to move around to the other side, and then as I knelt on the bed to get the shot said, "Are you OK if I'm here?" I didn't want to distract them or spoil the action.

Sandy looked over her shoulder at me a smiled. "We're cool with that," she said, and returned her attention to her boyfriend. She pushed a hand inside the opened pants and began to work them down, the enormous ridge in his shorts slowly revealing itself. A final tug let his pants drop around his feet and then Sandy leaned over and started to kiss the ridge of his cock through his shorts, working it with her hands. Jack moaned and pushed himself forward at her. The bulge of his cock was wrapped right around inside his shorts, and Sandy worked them down and suddenly the head of his cock popped out from the leg of his shorts and she wrapped her fingers around it and rubbed him.

I filmed of each stage, leaning across Sandy's legs to get close but taking care not to touch or distract her.

Ali had come into the room and was sitting on the straight backed chair against one wall, hands on her knees, watching.

I was trying to be professional about what was happening, but I wasn't used to doing this, and I could feel my own cock staining inside my pants.

"Take it out," I said to Sandy, "Slip his shorts down and let his cock out. Let's see just how big that thing is."

She smiled and tugged at the waistband of Jack's shorts. As they slipped down the base of his cock came into view an I realized that he had completely shaved his pubic hair since Thursday night, and I wondered if Sandy had done the same thing.

As Jack's shorts were pulled down to his knees his cock jerked free. It was enormous, and I could easily believe Sandy's claim for it being over 9 inches. It was too big to lift far, and hung down from his belly at 45 degrees.

Sandy placed her hand on the top of it and began to rub him, then leaned further over and planted small kisses all down its length.

I rolled back off the bed and moved around to get some shots from the side, kneeling close to the action, becoming aware of the scent filling the space between them. 

Sandy lifted Jack's cock and slid the head inside her mouth. Her full lips closed around the raised ridge and she gently began to work him in and out between her lips.

"Don't make him cum," I said.

Sandy smiled around the cock filling her lips and then drew back and said, "He won't cum yet." Then she slid him back inside, taking him deeper, taking inches of him into her mouth but even then more than half his cock remained visible.

I was about to suggest they move on when Sandy pulled her head back to leave Jack's cock glistening with her saliva and I zoomed in as as her lips freed him and a trail of saliva hung between his cock head and her bottom lip before breaking. She rolled back and Jack moved onto the bed, began to kiss inside her thighs, pushing her dress up to reveal her high cut panties and the garter belt. I could see she had put the panties on over the garters so she could remove them without having to undo everything.

Jack unbuttoned the bottom of her dress and pulled it aside, kissed and licked the inner tops of her thighs and Sandy lay back and allowed him full access, lifting her knees and parting her legs. She lifted her left leg, the one away from me, and placed it over Jack's shoulder just as he pulled the crotch of her panties to one side to reveal her plump, glistening pussy lips. Jack might have shaved himself, but Sandy still had a pretty tuft of white blonde pubic hair above her pussy, though her pussy lips were smooth.

Jack licked along the central valley of her pussy, then pushed a finger inside her, working it in and out, drawing back juice and slicking it over her clitoris.

Sandy lifted her hips and tugged at her panties, pulling them down. Jack took over and slid them down her legs, left them hanging off her right ankle. Then he released the remaining buttons on her dress and drew it apart. Sandy's big breasts were confined tightly inside the bra, and I knew Ali had bought it a cup size too small on purpose. The fullness of her upper breasts bulged out from the material, and the pale tops of her areola was visible, one nipple had poked free and stood hard and erect just above the pale blue material.

They were half undressed now and I moved around, filming them from different angles as Sandy lay on her back and unbuttoned Jack's shirt and slid it back over his shoulders. He crouched over her, his big cock swaying as he kissed her breasts and fondled them. Then he lifted her up and unclipped her bra, letting her breasts shake free. Sandy lay back, wearing only the garter belt and stockings and Jack slid down her body, kissing her and then burying his face in her pussy.

I moved close, trying to capture the action and they half turned to make it easier and I became aware of the strong aroma of Sandy's pussy and her breasts close to my arm, her face near mine, so close I could feel her breath against my hair as she panted. 

I tried to concentrate on the viewfinder, but this wasn't like a movie, it was too personal, too real. I risked a glance at Ali and she was sitting forwards, her face flushed, her chest above her t shirt also pink. Her nipples formed peaks in the thin white cotton.

"Tom," Sandy gasped.

"Yeah, are you OK?"

"Oh fuck yeah," she replied, and laughed softly. "It's just, is it OK if I cum now?"

She looked at me, her face beaded with sweat, her pupils large, and I nodded.

"Sure."

She smiled and rolled her head back, opened her mouth as Jack continued to work her pussy with his tongue and fingers.

Sandy rolled her hands on her breasts, pulling at her nipples and pulsed her hips up, flattening Jack's lips.

I moved back a little, taking in all the action as Sandy's movement grew more frantic, her legs rose and wrapped around Jack's shoulder and she shook wildly. She grunted, thrusting up against Jack's mouth, cried out once and then trembled all over, her breasts shaking, her nipples forming circles in the air. Then she sighed deeply and slumped back onto the bed.

Jack lifted his mouth off her pussy, wiped his face with his hand.

"Give me a minute," Sandy said, still breathing hard.

I moved back, kept filming as she relaxed. Jack continued to stroke her belly, lightly drifting his fingers over her nipples, and slowly she revived.

"My turn?" Jack said.

She nodded. "Your turn. Fuck me."

He grinned and lifted his cock, placed the head against her pussy. I moved back, filmeing down Sandy's body, focusing on where Jack's engorged glans was just parting Sandy's labia. He applied more pressure and she slowly opened for him. Sandy parted her legs more, put her hands on his waist and urged him forwards.

"Remember," Ali said from across the room. "You can't cum inside her. We need to film that."

Jack nodded, working his cock further into Sandy. I expected him to only get a half, maybe two thirds in, but he continued pushing, and Sandy continued to urge him on until he was buried to the hilt inside her. She was stretched wide by his girth, and God knows where the top of his cock was. They began to move together, pulsing and writhing one to the other, kissing and fondling. 

They continued for five minutes, longer, and then Sandy grunted, "Gonna cum again. Sorry."

I laughed gently. "No need to apologize. Cum if you want to."

"Thanks," she said, biting her full bottom lip, and let the climax roll through her for a second time.

Jack kept his cock buried inside her while she recovered, then slipped out and tugged at her, rolling her over.

He put his face down next to her ear and said, "I'm gonna fuck your ass, baby."

Sandy let him roll her, put her elbows down and lifted her magnificent ass high. "Yeah, do it," she said.

Jack knelt between her thighs, held his cock and placed it onto her asshole. I tried to get closer, tried to catch it but couldn't. I looked down, said, "Do you mind if I...?"

Jack shook his head. "Your show, man."

I lifted my leg over until I was standing astride Sandy, and then I could film directly down to where Jack's cock rested on her perfect pink asshole.

I noticed movement, and saw Ali come across. She wanted to see this. She stood beside the bed, holding the headboard and leaning across. Her eyes were bright and she kept licking her lips.

The smell of sex in the room was unbelievable now. My cock formed a huge ridge in my pants and standing where I was Jack must have seen it, but he just continued pressed against Sandy's asshole.

He dropped his head and let saliva drip from his mouth onto her ass, tried pushing again. Sandy's ass opened a little, but Jack was just too big.

Jack looked up at me. "Sorry, man. Thought we could do this for you."

"It's OK," I said. "I don't want you to hurt yourselves. You done this before?"

Jack shook his head. "Tried a lot, but I'm too fucking big. Sandy really wants me to fuck her in the ass, but we have to make do with fingers and tongues."

"Uh-huh," I said, not trusting myself to say more.

"What you want us to do? I'm getting pretty close to dumping my load, I gotta tell you."

I turned to Ali. "How do you want this, Al?"

She looked, then said, "Fuck her, Jack. Fuck her, then pull out and splash on her belly and tits. You cool with that, Sandy?"

Sandy nodded. "God yeah. I love it when Jack does that."

"OK. Let's go for it. You still happy with the camera, Tom?"

I nodded.

"Let me know if you want me to spell you." Ali returned to her chair, tucked in a shadowed corner of the room, and I saw her put her hand into her lap when she sat.

Jack went back down and pushed his cock inside Sandy's pussy again. She still lay half on her side, and Jack lifted her leg so she scissored him as he ploughed into her.

I moved closer, zoomed onto Jack's enormous cock sliding in and out of Sandy's tight pussy. Her belly was pulled in, her mouth open and it looked as though she was on the point of cumming again.

I was kneeling on the bed beside them as Jack pushed even deeper inside Sandy. Her teeth bit down on her bottom lip and her eyebrows pulled together as Jack's huge cock stretched her.

"You don't have to hurt yourself," I said to her. "You can tell him to stop."

"Don't want to," she said. "Like it when he fills me up."

Her face was bright with passion, her eyes half closed. I had the camera to my eye, taking shots down along her body. She lay half on her stomach as Jack turned her over even more, her large breasts pressed against the covers, her left leg pulled back and bent, her right leg lifted. Jack lay between her thighs, his cock buried inside her.

When Sandy touched me on the inner leg I jumped and almost dropped the camera. I moved back, thinking she had done it accidentally as Jack ploughed into her, but her hand moved with me, sliding up until it found my cock hard inside my pants and she wrapped her fingers around it.

"Sandy," I said.

"Take it out," she said.

"I can't" I said, glancing at Jack and my stomach turned over when I saw him looking at where Sandy's hand was. I moved back again, dropping one leg off the bed, expecting him to lunge at me.

Instead he said, "Go on, man, get your cock out, it's cool."

Sandy's fingers found my zip and tugged it down. I felt her warm fingers slip inside and push my shorts down, seeking my cock.

"I don't know," I said.

"It's okay man," Jack said. "Sandy likes you, and if Sandy likes you it's cool with me. Fuck her mouth, she'll like that."

"Uh," I said, and looked to Ali for help.

She was still on the chair, still leaning forward, her face was flushed, eyes bright.

She looked at me and said, "Fuck her mouth, Tom."

Ali rose and came across, held her hand out for the camera and I let her take it. Sandy's fingers inside my shorts had found my cock and were gently rubbing me.

I looked down at her and said, "You're sure about this?"

She smiled and said, "Fuck my mouth, Tom. But you can't cum until Jack does. You can both cum on me together..."

I pulled back and tugged my pants off, pulling my shorts with them and my hard cock sprang up and slapped my stomach and Sandy grasped it again and pulled me towards her. I stumbled back onto the bed as I pulled my t-shirt over my head. Sandy tugged me insistently, guiding me to her mouth, opening her lips and taking me inside. I grabbed the bedhead with my right hand to prevent myself falling. Sandy ran her tongue around the ridge on my cock and then put a hand on my ass and drew me closer.

My knee was now touching the side of her breast, and I dropped my left hand and held it, overflowing my palm, pulled at her hard nipples and she moaned around my cock filling her mouth.

I began to rock my hips, driving my cock in and out through her lips, my head dropping forwards so I could see myself invading her mouth.

"Fuckin' A," Jack said, "Fuck her mouth like that man, she loves it. I'm too big to do that, but you're just right, just big enough. She loves cock, man, loves it."

He had managed to work even more of his giant cock inside her, his full length now embedded somewhere inside Sandy, who was still frowning but moaning as we both worked ourselves into her. I was barely aware of Ali moving around, getting into position, capturing each moment.

Sandy was pulsing her hips as Jack fucked her, and I could feel her mouth opening and closing around my cock as she had to draw more air in, felt her face move against my belly as she rocked from side to side, then she pulled me out and turned to Jack.

"Fuck me hard, I'm cumming," she grunted. She grabbed my hand and pulled it onto her breast.

"Yeah," she grunted, "Fuck me hard, fuck me... fuck me... ahhh!" She threw her head back and her whole body shook violently as she came for a third time. 

"Oh fuck, oh yes, oh fuck," she whimpered.

She continued to shake for over a minute and then began to relax, leaning back on the pillows, her face still flushed, her short hair plastered around her cheeks with her sweat.

She grabbed my cock and pulled it back towards her mouth and I slipped past her opened lips and started to fuck her rapidly, pushing as far as I could get inside, banging up against the top of her throat, out of control myself now. Sandy was pushing at Jack and his long cock drew slowly out of her pussy, and he moved to straddle her stomach. Jack's right leg was pressed up against my left but I hardly noticed as Sandy took his unbelievable length in both her hands and started to rub him fast.

Jack looked back at Ali and said, "You're welcome, if you want to join us."

Ali shook her head quickly, "I'm gay," she said.

"Well fuck, why didn't you say? Next time you can go down on Sand, or she on you. We like all kinds of fucking. We like you both."

Jack was finding it more difficult to speak and Sandy was watching his cock, peering around me as I continued to plunge into her mouth.

"Almost there now, babe," he said. "How about you, Tom?"

He seemed to think it was perfectly natural to be talking to me as I fucked his girlfriend's mouth, and I was too far gone to feel any sense of wrong or shame.

"Close," I grunted.

"Can you hold on till I cum?" he said.

"Try," I said, pulling that inside muscle down to dam my explosion.




Ali's Art Ch. 06



"Nearly there," he said, "That's good, Sand, rub it like that, feels real fucking good babe..."

Sandy hummed some answer around my cock, then Jack said, "Cumming, babe, her we go... You too Tom, cover her..."

I pulled back and Sandy let go of Jack, put one around my cock, one around his, rubbing us both, her hands a blur.

Jack grunted deep inside his chest and pushed his hips forward, and I let the muscle go and allowed the pressure that had been building release.

I think I shot first, a great explosion of sperm that poured out of my cock and splashed across Sandy's face, covering her nose, her cheeks, her mouth. Then Jack's stream arrived and his was even more copious, an unbelievable stream of white jetting from his cock and dropping down across Sandy's tits. I came again and again, my streams mixing with Jack's as we both covered Sandy from forehead to belly.

Finally, I began to dry up and Sandy expertly slowed her stroke as I grew painfully sensitive. Jack let a final jet loose and covered Sandy's neck, then her hand was slowing on him as well. My knees were going and I wobbled then had to fall sideways, still careful not to land on Sandy. She let go of my cock and then let go of Jack as he folded backwards.

Sandy looked down at us both, down at herself, her face a mask of surprise at the amount of cum that covered her, and then she smiled and began to spread it all over her tits, rubbing the slick fluid over her round globes, spreading it over her neck.

I heard the camera stop.

I turned to see Ali place the camera on the chair she had been sitting in. She glanced at me, her eyes bright, and gave a strange smile. I could see she was trembling, her hands shaking, and her chest heaving as she drew rapid breaths in and out.

"I'm just gonna borrow your room for a minute," she said.

I nodded.

Jack turned and looked at her as she went to the door. "Sandy'd love to come lick you pussy for you, Alison."

She held a hand out, okay, no need, and went through the door.

"She's okay?" Sandy asked.

"She's fine," I said. "How about you two? I'm sorry for getting carried away there."

"No need, man," Jack said.

"Do you two make a habit of this?" I said.

"What, getting other guys to join in?" Jack laughed. "No man, but like I said, Sandy likes you, and I don't get jealous."

Sandy pulled herself up, moved over and lay on top of Jack and kissed him. "He hasn't got a single jealous bone, that's why I love him so much. We don't do this kind of thing often, but I just got so fucking worked up with you watching and filming, I just had to have more. You don't mind?"

I laughed. "Mind? Why should I mind?"

"It didn't feel weird?"

"It felt fucking awesome," I said. "Might feel weird tomorrow, but not tonight."

"Good," Sandy said, and she leaned over and kissed me as well.

Jack stretched and grinned. "Man, but I enjoyed that fuck!"

Sandy laughed. "It was a good one, surely was."

I rolled off the bed, joining in their laughter and found my clothes and began to get dressed.

"Stay naked if you want," Sandy said.

"Better not," I replied, "Or I'll end up fucking you again."

"Sure, if you want," she smiled.

I felt my cock weakly respond and shook my head. "Thanks, but I'm good."

"o 'you think you might want us to do this again?" Sandy said. She lay sideways on Jack, totally comfortable in her cum spattered nakedness.

"Only if you let me film it. I don't want you to think you have to let me fuck you again."

"I'd want you to, Tom. Jack really doesn't mind."

"I don't know," I said as I pulled my clothes back on.

"No pressure then," Sandy said, "Just so you know the offer's always there, and it's genuine."

"I'm getting a drink," I said. "Anything for you?"

"I could kill a fucking beer," Jack said and Sandy nodded.

I went through and walked around in the kitchen as I tried to pull my head back to a less steamy place. I twisted the tops off three beers and took them back through. My bedroom door was closed and I left it that way, allowing Ali her privacy. I stopped off in the bathroom and picked up a towel, took it through and gave it to Sandy so she could wipe herself off, then gave them both a beer and they started to get dressed.

I went through to the living room and dropped into the couch, took a long pull on the cold beer and was just lowering the bottle when my bedroom door opened and Ali came out, her color less flushed. She smiled crookedly.

"Thanks, Tom. I needed to take care of myself after that. Fuck," she shook her head.

"Hot couple, huh?"

"Fuckin' hot," she said. She got a beer for herself and sat next to me, leaning into my side.

"I'd have taken care of you just now, Al, if you'd wanted."

She kissed my cheek. "I know you would, but it's fine. We're best friends, Tom, not lovers."

"I wouldn't fuck you, Al, you know that, but if you need someone to help, you've only got to ask."

She kissed my cheek again, and I wished it had been my mouth.

"Maybe next time," she smiled.

"Speaking of which," I said. "Jack and Sandy said they wouldn't mind a repeat show, if we want."

"You either, I guess," Ali said.

"I told them I shouldn't get involved again."

"Tough not to be tempted though, huh?"

"She is fuckin' gorgeous."

Ali nodded. "She certainly is."

"You heard her," I said, "She'd do you too if you wanted."

Ali slapped my chest and looked serious. "We really shouldn't get involved, Tom."

"I know. But still..."

She smiled. "Behave yourself."

Sandy came through, tugging up the zip on her jeans and Jack followed her out.

Ali jumped up and went over to the desk and came back with two envelopes, held them out to them.

Jack laughed. "Fuck. I forgot we were getting paid." He opened his envelope and looked inside, went to hand it back. "You've given us too much, Alison. There's two-fifty in each of these."

"Yeah, that's what we agreed," Ali said. "Two-fifty."

"Each?" Sandy said, her eyes wide.

"Sure. I thought you understood."

"Oh wow, oh thanks," Sandy came over and hugged Ali tight. I was sure I could see the glisten of tears start up in her eyes.

"Thanks," Jack said. He hugged Ali too then shook my hand.

As I opened the door for them I said, "Sandy, you said you were studying Accounting, right?"

She stopped and nodded.

"Would you want a little extra income looking at our books?"

She looked at me, glanced at Jack. "Sure. Who does them now?"

I laughed. "That's the point. No-one."

"Wow. Then someone needs to take a look at them, Tom. Are you aware of the penalties if you don't file on time and correctly?"

"Don't file what?" I asked.

She stared at me, then said, "I'll come around Monday night. You need me, Tom. You need me badly."

I slept late in the morning, and for once Ali did not bounce through and wake me with a coffee or a slap or some sassy remark. I lazed for ten minutes, enjoying the memories of the night before, then slid out of bed and walked through in my shorts.

Ali was sitting at the desk with the big apple monitor glowing in front of her. Even from across the room I could see it held a still image from the video. It showed me with my cock in Sandy's mouth, half turned from the camera, my lean side tight with tension. Sandy's mouth had opened as she breathed and the light fell into it so you could see the length of my cock disappearing between her lips and lying against her tongue. Jack's cock was clearly visible as it stretched Sandy's pussy. 

Ali captured the frame to a folder then hit play and the scene moved on at quarter speed. Ali stopped it again, rewound, bounced to and fro until she had the exact frame she was after and captured it.

Ali had her sketch pad open in front of her. She was dressed in her robe, but it seemed to be untied and hanging loose over the sides of her chair. She was sketching with one hand, her other was moving rapidly down between her legs. I stopped dead and watched, was just about to turn back into my room when something must have caught Ali's attention because she turned her head and saw me.

"Fuck," she whispered, and her arm stopped moving. "Caught me," she said.

"Sorry."

She shrugged, pulled her robe closed over her body even though I could see nothing. "No need."

"How long have you been out here, Al?"

She shook her head. "Couple of hours."

I walked over to stand behind her, looked down at the sketch she had been working on. It was outstanding. She had caught the full sensual aura of what was going on. Sandy's face was ecstatic, my head was thrown back and my cock drawn delicately to show all it's veins and ridges. Sandy's fantastic body had been captured in all its beauty, and Jack's cock looked even bigger than the real thing.

"I was getting worked up," Ali said softly. "I often do when I'm sketching some of these shots." She shook her head. "Fuck, she's gorgeous, isn't she?"

I nodded. "She is."

"If I had a cock I'd stick it in her mouth as well. And anywhere else she'd take it."

"Jealous?" I said.

"Fuck yeah."

I noticed she had not tied her robe and had let the edges go, so it was starting to fall open again. Her right breast was fully revealed, the left side half exposed.

"I want to see the movie," I said.

Ali shook her head. "I'll get horny again."

"S'okay. Get horny, it's fine by me."

"You'd like to watch me fuck myself, wouldn't you," she said, but it wasn't quite a statement, only half a question.

"I think I know what you were doing in my room last night. And you've done it in front of me before."

She nodded. The robe had opened further and her front was now exposed.

I reached across her, my stomach resting against her shoulder, and stopped the movie, reset it and pressed play. At the start it was just Sandy and Jack, and then after twenty fades Ali must have taken the camera and I came into view, my hard cock pointed directly at Sandy's parted lips.

Ali moved her hand back down to her lap and slid her fingers over her pussy lips. Juice slicked the back of her knuckles as she dipped her fingers inside herself and she sighed and began a steady motion.

I gripped her shoulders and turned her on the chair so she was side on, then physically moved the whole thing back around so she was facing the monitor again. Then I stood behind her and pulled her back against my bare belly. She relaxed back onto me and continued fucking herself. The scenes faded and moved, one to the other, and we both watched as my cock slid into Sandy's mouth, pulled back, slid in again.

"Put you arms around me," Ali said.

I knelt down so my head was level with hers and wrapped my arms around her stomach just underneath the full curve of her breasts.

"Higher," she said.

I lifted my hands and cupped her breasts and she sighed. I could feel her whole body shaking as her arm worked her fingers rapidly in and out of herself.

"Stand me up," she said, "Stand me up and hold me."

I lifted and she rose from the chair and I pushed it away with my foot. She now leant back against me, her ass just below my cock which was now hard in my shorts. Ali's free hand reached around and tugged at them, trying to pull them down. I let her go and quickly slid them down my legs, pulled her back against me, my hard cock fitting perfectly between the round cheeks of her ass and lying flat to sit upright in the deep curve of her back.

"Don't fuck me," she said, "Just pretend. That's so fucking sexy, Tom, feeling your cock there. But don't fuck me."

I kissed her neck, the smooth sensitive part below her ears.

I started to lift myself up and down so my cock slid between the cheeks of her ass. Ali leaned forward and parted her legs so that I was positioned deeper between her cheeks, then leaned back and trapped me there. I pumped against her, my cock tightly trapped, and it was almost like I was fucking her in the ass.

"Don't you dare try to fuck me," she said. She kept saying it, over and over as I humped against her and her fingers pushed deep into her aching cunt. She said it so much it became a mantra, a talisman, and lost all meaning, became the opposite of what she meant. "Don't fuck me... don't fuck me... don't... fuck me.... fuck me..."

I held her breasts in my hands and rolled them, pulled on her nipples, kissed her on the neck and shoulders. I desperately wanted to push her down on the floor and bury my tongue in her asshole, but I kept myself upright, kept pumping against her, felt her begin to grow tense and increase her pace even more.

"I'm gonna cum!" she hissed. "Fuck me, Tom, fuck me and cum, fuck me... fuck me..."

I knew what she meant, knew what she wanted. I pushed roughly between the cheeks of her ass, the ridged underside of my hard cock pressing against her asshole, the head still hot against the small of her back, my heavy balls slapping against her legs as I rocked, and she started to shake and moan.

"...fuck me.... fuck me..." she whispered over and over and I slid between her ass cheeks as she climaxed, crying out, her entire body jerking and her knees giving way. I held her up, holding her hard back against me as I pumped hard and let myself go, shooting great streams of cum out across her naked back, feeling it slide back between her ass and lubricate my cock and I pushed it further in between them, pushed the length of it flat against her ass and felt the base of my cock rubbing against her slippery asshole and another enormous jet of cum slicked her back.

I felt my own knees start to give and grabbed onto the back of the chair, my other arm still around Ali's waist and holding her up, holding her back against me as I came down and put my head into her shoulder and kissed her.

She lay back against me for several minutes, fingers still inside her pussy, her breath gradually slowing back to normal. I could feel my cum cooling on her back, more of it sliding down along her cheeks. She could probably feel it sliding along her inner thighs.

Ali reached her arm back over her shoulder and put it around the back of my neck, pulled my head down and turned to me and kissed me on the mouth. Her mouth opened and her tongue came out to meet mine and we kissed deeply.

"Thanks, Tom," she said when we broke apart.

"What for?"

"For not fucking me. For fucking me."

"Anytime," I said.

"Mm," she said.

I bent down and picked up her robe, put it around her shoulders.

"One day we're going to go too far," she said.

"That wasn't it?" I said, and she turned around and slapped me on the stomach. 

"Put your shorts on you disgusting man."

I looked down. My cock hung flaccid between my legs. Flaccid but happy.

"Is this getting out of hand, Al?" I said.

"It is," she replied. "But do you want to stop?"

I shook my head.

"Nor me," she said. She reached up and kissed me again, a full kiss like the last, and pressed her naked front against me. I felt my cock start to harden again and pushed her away.

"Hey, watch it," I said. "We gotta be careful, Al."

She looked down at the sign of my arousal, nodded. "Okay... for now." She turned away and sat on the chair again. "Now, let me work. These sketches are gonna be worth a fucking fortune. If you want to help get your sketchpad and work over there. Let's get these done and onto the site."

=============================

There are 13 chapters planned for this series, of which 6 of the remaining 7 are complete but require a final polish.

The series will take a break here, and return in about 4-6 weeks when complete. The final 7 chapters will be released over a short period of time.

If you are waiting to find out what becomes of Tom and Ali, I ask for your patience. I hope the conclusion will be more satisfying if you do not have to wait a couple of weeks between the remaining chapters. 

----------------------------



Ali's Art Ch. 07



I spent Sunday on my own, finishing up two papers I needed to hand in Monday afternoon. Despite the success of our website and the time I put in creating content for it, I still needed to study and submit work to my teachers. I was just lucky that Ali had been through the mill and was able to give me some help and advice, could tell me just how much work was required. She still made me do the work myself, but a lot of the time she was a lot more useful to me than my teachers.

Monday evening Sandy arrived, alone, and the three of us sat around the kitchen table while Sandy quizzed us. She was dressed in a new top and skirt, and pulled a pair of black glasses out of her bag and put them on to read her notes and the documents she asked us for. She was completely different, this was her subject now, and she was in charge.

She asked us about the art materials we used, the laptops, even the pencils, pens and crayons. She wanted every receipt we could find and how often we paid fees for the website, whether we logged onto other sites to see what competition was out there. After forty minutes she sat up and pushed her hands back through her hair, twisting in her chair.

"OK. Bottom line, if you don't sort yourselves out soon, the IRS are not going to cut your balls off. Ignorance of tax law is not a defense. You're lucky I came along. Now, do you want me to sort all this out for you?"

"Would you?" Ali said.

"I can," Sandy replied. "I'll need paying, but I'm cheap."

"Whatever it costs," Ali said.

Sandy laughed. "First lesson. Never say that to anyone ever again. I'll pretend I didn't hear it. I'll charge you $10 an hour for all the work I do, plus expenses. You'll pay your filing fees and any other fees that may be needed. So, what do you think?"

"Please," Ali said.

Sandy turned to me. "And you, Tom?"

I nodded. "You can see we have no idea what we're doing, Sandy. Can you sort us out?"

"Of course I can," she nodded. "I'll make a start tonight. And before I leave I want to talk to you about something else as well."

"Anything," I said, and Ali nodded, agreeing.

Ali and I left her to work. We both went down into the studio and started to sketch. I hung around for a while, leaning against a beam, watching Sandy as she laid her work out neatly on the kitchen table. Ali had offered her the desk, but she said she could do with more space, that she liked to lay everything out and work through it logically.

She sat at the table, a pad of ruled paper open, the receipts we had managed to find in one pile, one of the laptops pushed off to one side so she could look up any information she needed. Sandy glanced around, satisfied herself everything was ordered and arranged, and took a pair of glasses from her bag and slipped them on. She looked so beautiful, even more than usual, that I just stood there and stared. Luckily she was absorbed in her work, or I might have had trouble explaining why I just stood looking at her.

I jumped slightly as Ali came and slipped her arm through mine. I had been in a world of my own, enchanted by Sandy.

"You'd fuck her," Ali said softly, too quiet for her voice to carry.

I nodded. "Too right."

"Mm. Me too."

I glanced at her. "You would?"

"Fuck yeah. You know me and women. And Sandy is one hell of a woman. I wonder if she's into girls? Knowing my luck probably not."

"That would be fun, wouldn't it, Al?"

She looked at me. "What would, Tom?"

We were both talking softly, not wanting Sandy to hear us.

"If we both fucked her," I said.

Ali's mouth twitched up at the corner. "You've got a dirty mind, Tom Graham."

I raised my shoulders.

"I like it though," Ali said, and I grinned.

Sandy glanced up from her papers and saw us. "Tom, Ali, I've got some receipts here and I'm not sure how to classify them. Can you help me out?"

"Sure." Ali left my side and walked across to her, pulled a chair up and started looking through the pieces of paper.

I continued working and after a quarter hour Ali came back.

We both lost track of time and when Sandy spoke I had no idea how much time had passed.

I turned to find her sitting on the steps that led down from the main living area to the studio. She had tucked her short skirt down between her thighs, sat forward with her hands draped between her legs.

"I'm done for now. I'll need to come back, and if you want me to I'd like to make this a regular thing. You're going to need at least half a day a week to keep on top of all the paperwork."

"Not a problem," I said, already looking forward to Sandy becoming a regular visitor.

"And I said I wanted to talk to you about something else," she said.

"Anything," I replied.

She looked at me, at Ali. She appeared to be making up her mind about something. She had removed her glasses and her bright blue eyes regarded us seriously.

"This enterprise of yours," she said. "The website, the drawings, how serious are you about it?"

"I'm not sure I follow you," Ali said.

"What do you want out of it? Where do you want it to go?"

"We haven't thought about it," Ali said. "It's just something we do. I guess I just like drawing dirty pictures, and I've corrupted Tom now too."

"Me as well," Sandy said, laughing. "But I didn't quite mean that. Do you want this to grow, to earn more money?"

Ali shrugged. "I guess."

"How, uh, emotionally attached are you to it?"

"Don't understand," Ali said.

I watched them both, starting to get an idea where Sandy might be going with this.

Sandy leaned forward, her top opening as she moved, providing a delightful view down onto the top of her beasts.

"I think... what you have created has enormous potential," Sandy said. "I think you could both come out of this with enough money to last the rest of your lives."

Ali shook her head, not believing what she was hearing.

"But that's not going to happen if you continue running it the way you have been, hand to mouth, unplanned."

"We're not business people," I said. "This is all just an accident."

"I can see that. And I'm not criticizing. You can keep on as you are, and you'll tick over. You're doing OK at the moment, but pretty soon things will start slipping. Unless it changes, eighteen months, two years from now it'll be costing you money and you'll be a slave to turning out work."

"So what do we do?" I asked. "Pull the plug now?"

Sandy shook her head. "Do you trust me?" she asked.

I looked at Ali. I nodded. Ali nodded.

"Really? You don't know me."

I laughed. "I think I know you well enough." I was thinking back to the night we filmed her with Jack and I had ended up cumming in her mouth.

"You sure?"

I looked at her. "Are you going to rip us off, Sandy?"

She shook her head again. "I'm not. That's not who I am. But you don't know that."

"I trust you, Sandy," I said, looking directly into her eyes.

She stared back at me, then nodded. "OK. I believe you. In that case, I want to put together a proposal for you. It's going to involve other people, but they're people I know. One of them is Jack. Another is a guy we've known for years. The fourth is someone I know and trust."

"And what will all these people do?" I asked.

"I want you to consider whether you might want to sell your business - and I want you to start thinking of it as a business, not a hobby. Would you be willing to do that?"

"Now?" Ali said, and I could see the anguish in her pretty face. I felt the same thing, a sense of impending loss.

"Not now," Sandy said. "In a couple of years, I would think."

"A couple of years?" Ali said.

Sandy nodded. "A business is just another thing. You can have a Mom and Pop store, or a cousins store," she grinned, "And you can make a living from those, but that's all. If you want to make serious money, you need to start a business and from the outset know your exit strategy."

"This is too much for me," Ali said. She held up her hands, then went on, "I can see what you mean, but this is all too much too soon. Can we think about it, at least overnight?"

"Sure," Sandy sat back, twisting again to ease her back. "I've laid a lot on you all of a sudden. Think it over. But think on this, too, please..." She looked at us both, her beautiful face serious. "Do this right, and in two years, even before you graduate Tom, you could both walk away millionaires."

Ali just stared at her. I wasn't sure I believed it.

Ali sighed. "I just thought we could make some erotic sketches and sell them. It all seemed so simple six months ago."

Sandy looked at her and smiled. "And you both do that so very well. Your drawings turn me on so much." She stood up and walked into the studio, stopped and looked at the drawing I had been working on. My laptop was on beside the easel, a still frame from the movie we had made of Sandy and Jack frozen on the screen. Sandy's hand rested lightly on my shoulder. I could feel her body warm near to mine.

I had cropped the frame, zoomed in on Sandy's face and breasts. I had removed Jack from the drawing completely.

It showed me with my cock in her mouth. The ridges and veins stood out clearly. Sandy's eyes were open, although in the image on the monitor they were closed. I had drawn her pupils large, her lips open around my cock so it could be seen disappearing gradually into the dark cave of her mouth.

Sandy didn't move. If anything I thought her hand gripped my shoulder a little more tightly.

Finally she said, "That is really hot, Tom."

"You like it?" I said, turning towards her.

She nodded. "I like it a lot."

"You don't find it weird, seeing yourself drawn like that?"

"What, with your cock in my mouth?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Why? I liked it when you had it there, why would it worry me to see it again like this?"

"What about other people seeing it?"

She shrugged, then turned her full lips up in a smile. "What Jack told you was true. I get turned on at the idea of people watching. This is turning me on right now, Tom. Just thinking about all those guys out there who might look at this and jack off to it, that turns me on."

"It does?"

"Sure." She was completely unembarrassed, and I realized she was the ultimate erotic animal, totally into sex, totally unworried about what anyone else might think.

She kissed me lightly on the cheek, said, "I'm gonna go see what Ali's done."

She walked across to where Ali was working. I watched her go, enjoying the way her ass moved inside her skirt. I watched as she put both hands on Ali's shoulders and leaned over as she had to me, spoke softly to her about the drawing. I could just about see where Ali had drawn Jack's attempt to push his cock into Sandy's asshole. It was too big, of course, and hard as they had tried he had managed to force no more than the very tip into her. Ali's drawing had caught the effort of that, but also the utter sexual abandon on both their faces.

I stood up and went over, wanting to see the drawing more closely. I leaned across, my arm around Sandy's shoulder, not with any intent, but just as something to lean on.

Although the still image did not show it, Ali had drawn Jack's cock just as it had started to ejaculate. The first spurt was emerging and pushed aside onto Sandy's ass. The drawing was incredible, the sexual power coming off it huge. I had started to become immune to the many drawings of sex and bodies that were scattered around the apartment, but this was something extraordinary and I felt my cock stiffen in my pants.

Sandy put her arms around Ali from behind and kissed her on the earlobe just showing where she had tucked her hair back behind.

"You're a genius, Ali, you know that?"

Al laughed. "Yeah, sure."

"That is so fucking hot," Sandy said.

Ali nodded. "It is. I'm drawing it, but even I can see that."

"It's amazing," I said, and Ali turned, not aware I had been standing there.

She smiled softly. "Thanks, Tom."

"And Sandy's right. You are a fucking genius."

Ali laughed. "OK. Enough. Let's take a break for a minute."

I stepped back and Sandy unwound from Ali and Ali stood and we went through to the kitchen. Sandy had cleared up the papers, put them away in labeled envelopes.

"Have you finished?" Ali asked.

"For the moment. I need to do more, but we probably have to talk about that. Are you going to want me to do this on a regular basis?"

"Can you? Are you happy to do that?"

"Sure. But I'll need paying regularly too," Sandy sounded embarrassed, but firm.

"Of course," Ali said. "Of course we'll pay you."

"Does the ten dollars an hour sound OK?"

"Sounds fine."

"I'll need to give you receipts, and you'll need to keep a record of it, but I guess I'll do all that for you anyway," Sandy said.

It was early evening, and I went to the refrigerator and opened a bottle of cold white wine.

"Drink, Sandy?" I held the bottle up.

She looked at it, then nodded and sat down. She didn't seem to be in a big rush to get away.

"Where's Jack tonight?" I asked.

"He's got a late lecture, then he's going to the Times offices. He's got himself a contact there who said he can go over and get a feel for a real newspaper office. He's also got some ideas for marketing your website, if you're interested."

I poured wine for each of us, sat across the back of a chair facing the table.

"When you bring these people around," Ali said, "We'll make an evening of it. Cook some food, have a little party at the same time."

Sandy smiled. "You two have no idea how to run a business, have you?"

I laughed and Ali joined in and said, "Why should we? Why would we want to? I'm hoping you and these people are going to do all that for us. Me and Tom, we just draw dirty pictures."

Sandy laughed. "Good dirty pictures though." She drank some of her wine, said, "Do you think I could take a look at the stuff you recorded the other night? The little I saw was turning me on. Would you mind?"

"Of course not. I'll bring a laptop out. Do you want to watch it, you know, on your own?"

Sandy looked puzzled. "No. Why'd I want to do that? But would you think me awful if I got carried away?"

It was Ali's turn to look puzzled.

"Looking at your drawings, seeing that little bit of movie, got me pretty wet. I think if I'm gonna watch it all I'll need to bring myself off." She was not at all embarrassed to admit to her arousal, and that turned me on even more.

"And you're OK with us, uh, seeing that?"

"Sure. I said, it would make it even better for me if you did. You wanna film me doing it? That would be cool, me watching a film of me being fucked while I bring myself off. Fucking cool."

"Uh, yeah, we could, but-"

"I wouldn't want paying or anything," Sandy said suddenly, interrupting Ali. "After all, I'd be getting my rocks off anyway."

"What about Jack?" I asked. "What would he think of you doing it in front of us?"

Sandy laughed. "Jack's cool. He won't mind. I'll tell him all about it when I get home and we'll fuck. I might jack him off while I'm telling him."

This girl was unbelievable.

We drank our wine, neither Ali nor I wanting to make any move, neither of us wanting to seem to be pressuring Sandy into anything.

I glanced at Ali as I drank from my glass and she raised an eyebrow.

I topped our glasses up, and then Sandy stood and stretched. "Can you get me the laptop then, Ali? I'm feeling so fucking horny I'm gonna melt if I don't do something," and she put her hand down directly over her pussy and pressed against herself. Then she looked directly at me and said, "Tom - I know I said I was gonna do myself, but would you mind fucking me instead?"

I felt my mouth drop, and heard Ali splutter in her drink.

Sandy lifted her shoulders and gave a cute smile. "Please?"

"What about Jack? I don't want to-"

"Jack's OK with it. I told him I'd like to fuck you and he said that was cool. We're both cool about fucking other people. But we always tell each other. We always ask first. Jack could see I liked you the other night. It's fine with him."

"Uh, well, yeah, I guess." I glanced at Ali, who had now recovered, and she was watching us both with a flush on her face.

Sandy came around the table and put her arms around my shoulders. I put mine around her waist and she lifted up and kissed me on the mouth.

When she pulled away she said, "Mm, good. I wanted to fuck you as soon as we met." She pressed her hips forward into mine, smiled. "God, I'm so fucking horny. Do you mind if I cum quick and then we do it slower?"

"No, whatever you want, Sandy."

She grinned. "Oh, good. 'Cause I might want a lot. I haven't fucked anyone else for a while now. I'm looking forward to this."

Her openness was unbelievable. I had never experienced anything like it, and was at a loss how to proceed. But Sandy took my hand and led me across the room, towards my bedroom. She looked back at Ali and said, "You are gonna film this, yeah? I wanna see that film as well."

Ali put her glass down and went across to the small camcorder, checked the battery, changed the memory card.

Sandy led me into my bedroom and dropped onto the bed, fully clothed, and patted the mattress beside her.

"Let's pretend we're teenagers, Tom, making out on the bed and we get carried away. Yeah?"

"You like role play?" I asked, lying beside her, putting my hand on her slim waist.

"I like fucking," she said, and pulled my head down so our mouths met.

Despite her arousal, there seemed no rush. We kissed for a long time, exploring each other's mouths. Sandy tasted fresh, her tongue agile against mine. I kissed her face, her ears and neck, found particular points she liked being kissed on, different points to others I had kissed, the wonder of women that they were all unique.

I touched her breasts through her tee shirt and bra, fondled them, put my hand down over the prominent mound under her skirt and pressed my fingers against her and she moaned and moved her hips from side to side.

Sandy lifted my tee shirt and touched my belly, her other hand found the ridge inside my linen pants and gripped it, traced it with her fingers and she smiled.

She kissed me again then turned to look at Ali, who was crouching ten feet away with the camera to her eye. She had brought in a tripod and the SLR as well, and as we looked at her she clamped the video camera to the tripod and started taking still pictures as well.

Sandy licked my neck and said, "I want you to make me cum, Tom. Can you do that for me, and then you can fuck me anywhere you want."

"Careful what you offer," I said, smiling.

Sandy shook her head. "No. Anywhere you want."

"I'll fuck you where you want to be fucked, Sandy," I said. At the same time I had drawn the fine material of her skirt up to show her panties. She had been right. The front of them showed a huge wet patch. I leaned down and kissed her skin, kissed the smooth skin just on the waistband of her panties. I could smell her sex, strong and musky, and I wanted to taste it but I was making myself go slowly.

Sandy rolled over on top of me. I slid my hands down onto her ass, inside her panties, loving the smoothness of her skin, the round firmness of her ass.

Sandy pushed her tongue in between my lips hard, tried to push it as far into my mouth as she could and I lifted her tee shirt and gripped her breasts trapped in the dark blue bra.

She pushed my hands away, slid down and started to unbuckle my belt, working as slowly as I had, undoing the button at my waist and gradually tugging my zip down. My pants were loose and gaped as my zip came down, exposing cotton briefs. My cock formed a long ridge, angled upwards, and Sandy stroked it, then lowered her mouth and put her lips over it. I groaned and pushed up against her, but she wanted me to wait and pulled back grinning.

She turned to look at Ali and said, "You've seen Tom's cock. I know you're gay, but it is a nice cock, don't you think?"




Ali's Art Ch. 07



"OK, I guess," Ali said.

"Shall I show it to you?" Sandy asked.

"Do you want to show me?" Ali said.

"I think it would be sexy if I did that. Shall I show you?"

Ali nodded.

Sandy turned back to me, tugged at my waistband, pulling my pants down over my thighs, left them at me knees. Then she came back up, her fingers tracing my thighs, drifting over the bulge of my balls, gripped the ridge of my cock and rubbed me twice. The cotton on my briefs had a large damp patch where I leaked pre-cum and Sandy bent and sucked on it, making it even wetter.

She took the elastic of by waistband in her fingers and slowly drew it down. The very tip of my cock came into view, and Sandy turned again to Ali and said, "Are you getting this? Can you see the top of his cock?"

Ali nodded again and Sandy continued tugging, slowly revealing two inches, three, four, five. I hadn't shaved my pubic hair since returning to New York, and the short brown curls now appeared.

Sandy left my briefs hiding the base of my cock and slid her fingers around it. She lowered her head and I thought she was going to suck me, but instead she sniffed deeply.

She looked up at me. "You smell of sex, Tom."

"I wonder why."

"I bet I do too."

"I wouldn't know," I said, and she grinned.

"You will soon, Tom, promise." Then she said, "I'm gonna suck your cock for a while now."

She glanced at Ali, making sure she had a good view. Sandy's short hair did not fall down and obscure what she was doing. She lowered her mouth and very lightly took the tip of my cock in between her lips. She held me there, her tongue exploring my urethra, my frenulum. Very slowly she allowed more of my length to slip inside, gripped her lips tightly around the ridge of my cock and held me at that position, then continued.

She didn't say a word, didn't move other than her mouth, her right hand gripping the base of my cock, her mouth gradually lowering to take more and more of me inside. She came to a point where she couldn't take any more, held me there again, five inches of cock in her mouth, then she began to slowly move her head up and down, sliding me almost all the way out and then back inside.

I lay on my side, watching as my cock slid between her lips, holding down hard to stop myself cumming.

She worked me for five minutes, then drew back. My cock was slick with her saliva. She looked up at me and said, "I want you to cum in my mouth, Tom. What am I doing wrong?"

"Nothing at all," I said. "I'm just not ready yet."

"Fuck you're not," she said.

I pulled my pants down off my legs, discarded my briefs and then pulled my tee shirt over my head.

Sandy pulled back, held my cock, slick with her saliva, and looked at Ali. "Tom's got a beautiful cock. Don't you think so?"

"I'm not a good judge," Ali said from around the camera. She had come in close, only a couple of feet from where Sandy gently stroked my wet cock.

"Oh, surely, you can see a thing of beauty regardless of what turns you on. Just look at this thing," she said. She put a finger lightly on either side of my cock, displaying me for Ali.

"Look," Sandy said. "It's the right length, the right thickness, and it's perfectly straight, see? Jack's got a bend in his cock. Jack's cock is wonderful, and it's huge, and I love that, but it's got a kink in it. Tom's is straight, see?"

Ali was looking at my cock as Sandy spoke, nodding slowly.

"And look here," Sandy continued, drawing my foreskin down so the deep ridge of my glans was exposed. "Look at how sharp this is, really nice, I can get my tongue right under here..."

She dropped her head, pressed her tongue under the ridge and licked me all the way around.

"And here," she put the tip of her finger into my urethra and pushed in a little way. The opening was too small for her to go far, but she tried. "I can push my tongue in there too, see?" And she proceeded to demonstrate.

"Tom won't cum for me. I'd like to see him cum. Does he shoot far when he comes, Ali?"

She nodded. "He does," she whispered, then realized what she had said when Sandy grinned.

"I knew you two were fucking," she said.

"No," Ali said, shaking her head. "But he did jack off for me, once."

Liar, I thought. Only once?

"He did?"

"I'll show you the drawings," Ali said. "You may have seen some of them."

"Maybe," Sandy said. She looked up at me. "Why won't you cum for me, Tom? I'd love to see you cum. I'd love you to cum on my mouth... not inside my mouth, you've done that, but on my lips, I'd like to feel you spurt against my lips and then watch you shoot. I want to get as close as I can when you cum and see you shoot. Will you cum for me, Tom?"

"I want to fuck you," I said.

Sandy kissed the head of my cock again. "And you can. I'm sure between us we can get you hard again. And I do want you to fuck me." She laid her head on my hip, her mouth pressed against the side of my cock as she spoke, her lips vibrating against me. 

"You can make me cum then," I said. "But only if can see your body. This feels weird, me like this and you're still dressed."

"Is that the deal? If I show some skin you'd let me make you cum?"

It was a hard decision, I knew, but I nodded. "That's the deal."

"I want to keep them on," Sandy said. "But I can loosen them, I guess." Sandy sat up and pulled her tee shirt over her breasts. Her bra was twisted, one breast loose and she tugged it up so the other one dropped free. Her skirt pulled up around her waist, exposing tiny blue panties.

She slid back down, put her head back down on my hip. I could look down at her as her lips touched the side of my cock, could look beyond her to where Ali now knelt on the bed, the video camera pointing. Ali was flushed, obviously excited, and I saw Sandy reach across with her hand and run it up Ali's thigh. Ali looked but didn't pull away.

Sandy put her hand around my cock and began to stroke me, long even strokes from the base to the tip.

"Let it cum," she whispered, and I lay back, propped on pillows, watching, and relaxed.

The change was incredible. I could feel my body responding, my cock feeling even harder. Sandy stroked me slowly, not frantically, building the tension gradually. Now and then she planted small kisses along the length of my cock. Pre-cum formed and she licked it, spread it with her finger. Her face was right next to my cock, her lips touching it even as she stroked me.

I could feel my balls wrinkling up and drawing tight, and Sandy saw it too and came closer, her lips enclosing the head of my cock but not taking me inside. She continued to rub me and I pushed up with my hips and groaned.

"Yeah, shoot your cum for me," Sandy murmured.

"I'm-" I grunted, and gave in. It was roaring through me now, filling my balls, exploding out.

Sandy felt me twitch, closed her lips together and as the first stream of cum shot out it came between her lips, jetting up as though from her mouth and she pulled me in a little and my second jet splashed against her mouth, not inside but covering her lips, then her face.

I watched as she teased every drop from me, letting it fall on her gorgeous face, splash into her white hair.

"Fuck," Ali said, and I saw she had opened her jeans and pushed her hand inside her panties.

Sandy looked at her and smiled. "He cums good, don't he?"

Ali nodded. It looked like she was on the verge, but as I watched she pulled herself together, withdrew her fingers, slick with her own juices, and sat back on her heels. 

"I want to taste you now," I said to Sandy.

"You do?"

"I do."

"I made you cum, I guess that's only fair." She grinned and dropped onto her back. "OK then." She put her arms out at her side and said, "Do your worst then, Tom Graham."

Her tiny panties were pulled up between her legs, the front soaking, cutting up into her slit. I wriggled down so I was level with them, put my face to the dampness and smelled her, smelled the wonderful musky smell of sex. I nipped at the cotton with my teeth and tugged it, but it didn't work, so I slid my finger up through the leg holes and pulled them aside. She lay back and opened her thighs, exposing her beautiful pussy to me.

I kissed the sparse tuft of ice white pubic hair, traced the plump curve where her pubic bone and mound pushed out, broad and prominent.

I touched her clitoris, large, engorged, pushing out from its hood and I could feel Sandy trembling.

I caught movement and saw Ali had put the SLR down and now placed the video camera beside the bed, close to us, still on its tripod. She looked through the viewfinder, on her knees, adjusted the angle then sat back. Her chest was flushed, her cheeks rosy, and she looked directly into my eyes.

I turned and put my mouth over Sandy's clitoris, sucking it onto my tongue and she pushed against me and her trembling increased.

I slid my hand up and found her breast, her nipple hard and long, and her trembling grew.

Sandy put both hands on top of my head and pushed me down.

"Lick my cunt," she said.

I moved down, opening her soaking slit with my tongue, tasting her juices, pushing my lips flat against her and reaching inside with my tongue. I used my fingers to rub her clitoris and felt her shaking.

I slipped my hands inside the elastic of her panties and tugged but she dropped her own hands and held on.

"No," she gasped, "Like it with them on. Makes it feel sexy. Fuck me a little bit, Tom."

I moved up, kissed her breasts, kissed her mouth. My cock was almost fully hard again, aroused beyond belief by what I was doing. I pulled her panties aside again. Sandy opened her legs wide and I slid my cock inside her. She was hot and soaking, and tighter than I expected. I had seen Jack's enormous cock opening her up, and had expected her to have been loosened by such a giant, but she wasn't, she was tight and firm around me and I lifted on my arms and ground into her.

"Fuck," she cried, and her trembling became uncontrolled.

"Oh God, yes!" she screamed, and she bucked underneath me. She put her hands on my chest and pushed me hard. "Mouth again, quick."

I pulled out of her and slid down, going directly into her pussy with my tongue, pulling her panties hard to the side.

"Fuck yes!" she cried out, gushing against my face, curling into herself, grabbing my hair and pushing my face harder against her.

I flicked and pushed with my tongue, sucked her clitoris, pulled at her breasts, stroked her belly and she shook and cried out and bit her lips to muffle the sound then shook again and forgot about being quiet.

I kept my face against her pussy as she stilled, tasting the wonderful sweetness of her, until finally she grabbed my hair and pulled me up.

"Enough. Fuck, enough..." She pulled me up until she could kiss me.

"You're overdressed," I said, looking down at her tee shirt up around her neck, her breasts exposed, her bra twisted and pulled aside, and she laughed.

She rolled over and said, "Undo me, Tom."

She lay on her belly, her magnificent ass spread, and I unclipped her bra, helped her tug her tee shirt off then stopped her turning back and said, "Stay there a minute."

I slid down and kissed each globe of her ass, spread them and let my tongue probe in between. I found my target, her tight pink rosebud and licked it and she shivered.

"Ooh, that feels good."

"Tastes good too."

"It does?"

"I think so," I said. I risked a quick glance to make sure Ali was getting this, and she was, although now she had loosened her jeans even more and her hand had gone back inside.

I licked Sandy's ass until it was soaked in my saliva, then climbed up along her and whispered in her ear, "I think Ali wants to join us."

Sandy turned her head so she could see me. "Yeah? That would be wild."

"It's OK?"

"Fuck yeah. I wanna lick her pussy like you did mine. I wanna do her, Tom."

"OK."

I turned to Ali and looked at her, held out my hand.

She looked at it, her hand still inside her jeans, then she gave a tiny nod and stood up. She came around and lay on the bed on the other side of Sandy.

Sandy rolled on her side to face her, put her arm on Ali's waist. Their faces came together and they kissed.

I rolled off the bed and picked up the camera, knelt beside them, my cock rigid, and filmed as they kissed and then, very gently, Sandy removed Ali's clothes until they were both naked. Their breasts flattened as they came together, Ali's smaller but equally perfectly shaped. Their hands slid over their backs. Ali pushed her finger into Sandy's ear and then kissed the lobe. Sandy pushed Ali onto her back and kissed her breasts, nipping her nipples between her teeth.

Ali pulled Sandy up so her breasts came to her mouth and she sucked them, shaking them in her palms.

Ali reached down and pushed two fingers into Sandy's pussy and started to fuck her hard with them. Sandy allowed it for a minute, then pulled Ali's hand away, lifted it to her mouth and sucked her own juice from Ali's fingers. She held Ali's wrists, her arms above her head, for as long as she could while she kissed down over her breasts and her belly. When she reached Ali's navel she couldn't hold her arms up and let go.

I put the camera back on the tripod, grabbed Ali's wrists and took over, holding them up so she was helpless, although she didn't try hard to free herself.

I was kneeling beside her, my cock jutting, and Ali turned her head and looked at it, her mouth only inches away. She glanced up at me, looked down again. I leaned forward and Ali opened her lips. The head of my cock brushed her lips and she arched her neck, trying to get more of me in her mouth but I pulled away, suddenly feeling guilty at wanting to fuck her mouth. Ali tried to free her hands but I held tight.

I looked down. Sandy was lying between Ali's legs, her mouth clamped onto my cousin's pussy, her fingers and tongue working hard.

I leaned over and kissed Ali on the belly, then lower and kissed Sandy on the shoulder.

I let go of Ali's hands and moved down, tugged and pulled at Sandy until her legs were wide and returned my tongue to her ass.

Ali was pulsing underneath Sandy's mouth, and I wet a finger and inserted it into Sandy's asshole, pushed until it was buried to the top joint.

Now it was Ali's turn to shake and cry out. I sat back, watching as her climax worked through her like a tide, rolling out from her center, out to her fingertips and beyond. Her head arched back, her eyes closed and she trembled and Sandy sucked at her pussy until she relaxed and became still.

Sandy climbed up to lie beside Ali and they turned to each other and kissed, a long kiss, exploring each other's mouths.

I sat on my heels at the foot of the bed, their legs tangled around me and watched, fascinated. I reached over and grabbed the camera again, made sure I caught every sweet moment. Their hands stroked each other's breasts. Ali's fingers dropped to Sandy's pussy and inserted themselves and Sandy lifted a leg to allow better access.

Then Sandy pushed Ali away and said, "Tom hasn't cum yet. Do you want to do him, or shall I?"

Ali looked at Sandy and gave a quiet laugh. "Better be you. Apart from not being my type, he is my cousin."

"So what?"

"It would be incest," Ali said.

"Fuck that," Sandy replied.

"It's OK for you, he's not your cousin," Ali said, but she was grinning.

"No. But Jack's my cousin. My first cousin."

Ali stared at her. "He's what?"

Sandy bit her bottom lip, "But maybe you'd better not pass that on to anyone else."

Ali started to sit up, but Sandy pushed her down. "No. Talk later, if you want, but now Tom's gotta fuck me. You're sure you don't want him?"

"He's all yours," Ali said. She started to roll off the bed but Sandy grabbed her and pulled her back.

She leaned over and kissed Ali on the mouth, said, "I want you to do me again at the same time."

Ali shook her had. "I don't know what..."

Sandy looked at me, then turned back to Ali. "I want Tom to fuck my ass. And I want you to lick my pussy while he does it." Sandy shivered, as though the thought was almost too much for her.

"Fuck your ass," Ali said. Her face had flushed bright red, her mouth open.

"Mm. I love a cock in my ass. But you've seen Jack, he's just way too big. I thought, Tom's cock looks just right." Sandy turned to look at me. "Sorry, Tom, maybe you're not into anal sex. I should have asked you first."

"S'OK," I said. "I'll manage."

Sandy grinned. "Good." She looked at Ali. "You too?"

Ali looked stunned by lust, and nodded.

Sandy bent at the waist, sitting upright, put her arms around my shoulders and kissed me, her mouth opening wide and her tongue exploring. As she sat up, Ali slipped behind her, sat tight against her back, her legs wrapped around Sandy's hips, her arms snaking around to hold her heavy breasts. The backs of Ali's hands moved against my chest as I pressed onto Sandy, and as I kissed her I opened my eyes and found Ali staring closely into mine. We looked at each other, unflinching, as I kissed Sandy deeply, then Ali sighed and kissed Sandy on the neck just below her ear.

Sandy moaned. "God, I'm looking forward to this," she said.

I licked the side of her face and pushed her down onto the bed, Ali moving aside, tugging at Sandy so she lay sprawled on the covers, lying on her side facing Ali. The two girls kissed, a long, deep, slow kiss.

I slid down Sandy's body, kissing her side, kissing her breasts, searching for her nipples, pushing my face in between their bodies, Sandy pressed to one side, Ali to the other. I felt Ali's smaller breasts pressing against my cheek as I sucked Sandy's nipple into my mouth.

Ali placed her hand flat on my chest and pushed me back.

"I want to do this," she said, pushing me again.

I didn't know what she meant, but moved back and watched as she manipulated Sandy, suddenly Ali the one in command. She turned Sandy so she was lying on her belly. Pulled her legs so her thighs parted. 

Ali grabbed two pillows and pushed them under Sandy's middle, lifting her ass into the air.

She tugged Sandy's leg up, opening her thighs, exposing both her pussy and her ass.

Ali looked at me. Her face was distorted by lust, her lips pulled back exposing her teeth, her long curls showering over her shoulders, and I had never seen her look more beautiful.

She lowered herself down along Sandy's body, kissing her hipbones then rolling across and kissing the round globes of her ass.

She licked her fingers and inserted the tip of one into Sandy's asshole, probed and pushed.

Sandy lifted her hips higher.

Ali put her head down and licked up along Sandy's crack, let her tongue work around her finger. Then she pulled her finger out and licked directly on Sandy's asshole.

She turned her head and looked at me. "You do it, Tom," she said, her voice hoarse with passion.

I needed no encouragement and let my tongue follow where Ali's had, feeling Sandy's skin slick with Ali's saliva. I licked directly over her asshole, beyond and then back, waited before exploring, pushing the tip of my tongue inside.

Ali's face lay next to mine, her breath hot against my cheek, her fingers under my lips, touching Sandy as I tongued her. Ali pressed against my side, her breast against my belly, her long slim legs draped over the back of mine, her smooth shaved pussy grinding hard into my hip. I continued probing Sandy with my tongue, but at the same time twisted so my cock, which had been trapped underneath me, sprang free and slapped against Ali's leg.

I felt her go still, then she started grinding against me again and her hand slid down between our bodies and found my cock. She pulled on it, tugged it, and I wasn't sure if she wanted me inside her or inside Sandy. The head of my cock brushed Ali's pussy and I felt it hot and slick against me. For a moment Ali held me there, just outside her opening, her hand gripping me tightly, then she moved me on.




Ali's Art Ch. 07



Suddenly, she rolled away and sat on the edge of the bed.

I stopped. Ali looked back at me and said, "Go on, I'll only be a second."

She got up and padded out of the room. I kissed Sandy's back and she wriggled beneath me.

"When you gonna fuck me, Tom? I like this, but my ass needs fucking."

"Soon," I said. "When Al gets back."

"Cool..."

I pushed my finger into Sandy's asshole, muscled and tight, lubricated by Ali's and my saliva, but still so tight.

Ali came back carrying a small bottle and knelt on the bed beside us, knelt and leaned over Sandy.

"I've had this for ages," she said. "I guess now's the time to use it."

She unscrewed the plastic cap and tipped the bottle, let a thin stream of oil trail onto Sandy's ass. I felt it cool against my finger, pulled it out, let the oil gather and then slid my finger in through it back into Sandy's ass and it was smooth and lubricated.

"What's a lesbian doing with anal lube?" I asked.

Ali looked at me and shrugged, offering no explanation, and I wondered how long she had had the small bottle, and why she had bought it in the first place.

She let more oil drip onto Sandy and added her finger to mine, pushing as well so that two fingers were now in Sandy's ass. I felt Ali's finger move against mine, slick and smooth, felt the back of her hand warm against mine.

Ali slid up to Sandy's face and said, "You ready?"

"Been ready all night, Ali. Desperate now, babe."

Ali kissed her, came back down.

"Tom, move here," she said, and grabbed my cock and pulled me up, tugging me until my cock rested inside the crack of Sandy's ass.

Ali poured lube into her palm and then wrapped it around my cock, spread if along my length, let more lube slide onto the head of my cock.

She moved my cock, placed the head directly onto Sandy's asshole, let more lube flow.

Ali's face was right down close to where my cock lay on Sandy's ass. I felt her hot breath blow against me, felt it flow around my cock, flow along my length.

She glanced quickly up at me, her eyes on fire. "Fuck her," she whispered.

Ali put her palm around my cock, holding me against Sandy. "Do it, Tom, in her ass, fuck her in the ass..."

I applied a little pressure and saw Sandy's asshole open, felt it part around the tip of my cock.

Ali breathed harder, almost gasping now. She put her hand on my ass and pressed.

Sandy opened her legs wider and my cock opened her to me. The head of my cock slid inside, her muscled sphincter grasping me tightly, gripping around the ridge of my cock.

"Yeah," Ali grunted. "Push it in, Tom... fuck that's hot..."

She dripped more lube onto where I entered Sandy and I pressed and slid deeper inside.

"Oh my God!" Sandy yelled, and I stopped, scared I might have hurt her, but she cried out, "No, deeper. That's fucking wonderful. Oh God I love it so much!"

"Fuck her ass," Ali grunted and I pressed. 

I was now half buried inside Sandy's ass, and Ali couldn't get any closer, her face pressed into Sandy's crack, her mouth almost against my cock.

I could feel myself wanting to let go and held back harder than I ever had in my life before. Held back hard and gritted my teeth.

"All the way," Sandy said into the covers.

"Fuck yeah, all the way up her ass," Ali said.

And I pressed and slid inside, continued to press and watched as my cock disappeared all the way into Sandy's tight passage, pressed hard, grinding myself against her ass, feeling the hot tightness of her enclosing me.

"Now fuck her," Sandy grunted, sounding not like herself. "Fuck her hard in the ass."

Sandy nodded into the covers and pushed back against me.

I began to stroke in and out, pulling back a few inches, driving deep again.

Ali moved, went back to Sandy's face, held it in her hands, turning her towards her. "Does that feel as good as it looks?" she asked.

"Better," Sandy said.

Ali kissed her.

"Do you want some?" Sandy asked.

"What?"

"Do you want Tom's cock in your ass?"

Ali looked at her, looked into her eyes for a long time, then shook her head. "We don't."

Sandy laughed softly, her laughter mixed in with little gasps and moans as I continued to drive into her ass.

"But you want to," Sandy said. "Both of you want to. I see it all the time. I see it in how you look at each other, how you are around each other."

Ali shook her head once more. "We don't," she said again.

Sandy gave her head a little shake. "All mine then tonight." And she turned her face away from Ali and moved beneath me, turning. I rolled with her, rolled until she lay on top of me, her legs parting around mine, her body lying back on mine, and I looked over her shoulder and she pushed Ali's head down.

Ali went easily, directly to Sandy's pussy and began to work her tongue deep inside her.

I felt Ali's hair fall down onto my balls, slide against my inner thighs.

"Oh fuck," Sandy yelped, and suddenly shook as a climax rolled through her.

I didn't stop. Ali didn't stop. And within minutes Sandy cried out again. Her slim back pressed back against my chest, sweat dripping off her and pooling between us.

My cock ached, desperate for release, only waiting for Ali to find satisfaction before I allowed myself to give in to the growing pressure.

Ali worked her mouth hard against Sandy's pussy, her hand down between her own legs, working herself furiously.

She shifted, moving her head a little lower, so she could look up along Sandy's magnificent body at me. She stared at me, stared deep into my eyes, and I saw her pupils suddenly bloom and she continued to stare at me as she climaxed, wanting me to see the loss of control in her face, and it was all too much for me and I felt myself boil over and then my cum was jetting deep inside Sandy's ass, pulsing inside her, pouring into her. I stared at Ali and she saw it in my eyes as well, and it felt so intimate, felt as though I was releasing inside her as well.

We stilled, slowly. Sandy relaxed back against me as my cock softened and gently withdrew.

Ali lay with her head on Sandy's belly, and when I slipped free she reached under and held my cock briefly, stroking the slippery semen covered length of it.

I put my hands around Sandy and stroked her breasts and she sighed happily.

Finally she rolled over to lie on top of me and kissed me.

"Thanks, Tom. That was fucking amazing."

"Anytime," I said.

"Do you mean that?"

I looked at her. Ali had come up to join us, also lying across me, two beautiful naked women lying on top of me.

"If you want. If Jack doesn't mind. That's your first cousin Jack, yeah?"

"Yeah," she said. "Jack won't mind. He likes you. Likes you both. We could do a foursome if you want."

Ali laughed. "I'm not sure I want to cope with one cock, never mind two."

"Jack and Tom could fuck," Sandy said, "While we do each other."

"Hey," I said, holding up my hands. "Slow down."

"We're both completely bisexual," Sandy said. "We just kind of picked that vibe up off you two as well. But if you're not into it, that's cool too."

"That's my fault," Ali said. "I keep telling everyone Tom's gay. Because most of my friends are, and they wouldn't understand."

"You two do fuck though, don't you?"

Both Ali and I shook our heads.

Sandy frowned. "But you're so... perfect for each other... And look at you now. Ali's naked, lying on you, naked beneath her..." She glanced down., "She's got her thigh resting on your cock and her hand on your belly. You look like an old marred couple just cooling down after hot sex."

"We are," Ali said. "Just not with each other."

She rolled away, shook her hands through her hair and reached over to switch off the camera. 



Ali's Art Ch. 08



It was a week before we all got together again. Sandy called to see us Monday, but did not stay long and we remained clothed. She sat at the kitchen table and drank a glass of wine while explaining how she had managed to find a group of people that could help us, and would Sunday be OK for a meeting.

Ali said she would make food, get some drinks in and we could make it a party as well.

Sandy gave her a look, one I had seen before, and knew she was thinking we didn't take this seriously enough, but she just shrugged and said, "Fine. Whatever you think, Ali."

Sandy finished her wine, gave us both a quick kiss and left. I went down to the studio area and started on some new sketches. Ali went out, claiming to have a hot date and promising not to wake me when she came in.

The week went on more or less the same. Wednesday Ali introduced my to her hot date, a pretty, short girl with definite North African ancestry. Thursday Ali told me it was all off. Charlie (maybe not her real name, I thought) hadn't liked the idea of me sleeping in the bedroom next door to her and Ali.

Saturday afternoon Ali spent four hours preparing snacks, called me to help and I dipped chicken strips in breadcrumbs, followed her recipes for Chili sauce, stirred something strong and red and generally got in the way.

She bumped me with her hip as she passed, slapped my shoulder, came and stood leaning against me, her lovely breasts pressed into my side as she looked at what I was doing. She was in that kind of mood again, and I reveled in it.

Sunday we slept in. Ali came through in her robe and sat cross legged at the foot of my bed and let me look down the front at her breasts, knowing exactly what I was doing and not caring. I thought about moving a bit and letting her see my half erect cock, but thought she would be getting the worst of the deal so behaved myself and eventually she sighed as though I had disappointed her and went to shower.

I waited till I heard the water stop and her door open and close then went in and cleaned myself.

I was still in the shower when Ali came back. She did that a lot, more as time went on.

"Forgot to brush my teeth," she said, in explanation. "You don't mind, do you, Tom?"

"Go ahead," I said.

I turned around so I was facing her. Ali leaned over the sink, using her electric toothbrush, her ass wiggling deliciously as she moved her arm, the short robe riding up to display the lower curve of her butt.

My cock was filling again and I made no attempt to hide it. I saw Ali look in the mirror and move to get a better view, but she continued cleaning her teeth.

The buzzing of her toothbrush stopped and I turned sideways, soaping my cock and balls, being deliberately provocative.

Ali turned and crossed her arms, watched me for a moment and said, "You getting yourself off there, or are you really that dirty?"

"Just making sure, Al."

"Can you manage, or do you want some help?"

"I've got it covered."

She glanced down and grinned. "Not all of it," she said.

I took the shower head and rinsed myself off, played the water around my cock, washing soap away. Ali watched, unconcerned and unembarrassed.

"I'm gonna come in and watch you shower tomorrow," I said.

"Cool," she said.

I laughed and turned off the water, stepped out and towelled myself down.

"I've been thinking, Tom, what should I wear this afternoon?"

I looked at her, confused at the sudden change of direction. "For the meeting?"

"Yeah. Usual jeans, or something more formal?"

"I don't think it's like a business meeting or anything. Just what you usually wear, I guess."

I finished drying myself and went through to my bedroom to find clothes. Ali followed and sat on the edge of the bed, watched me open a drawer and pull out jockeys and slip them on. I heard her sigh as I covered up, but she was smiling.

"I guess we wear whatever we like."

"I guess," she said.

"Are you worried?" I asked. I turned back and passed her, found a clean shirt and pulled it on. As I passed by she traced her fingers down my back, over my ass and along my leg before I moved on.

"Not worried... just unsure. It feels like things are moving too fast for me. Like we're losing some control."

"That's a good thing," I said. "I don't think either of us knows what the fuck we're doing from the business side of things. We're artists, Al. Sandy's made such a difference in a week. I feel happier knowing she knows what she's doing."

"Yeah, I guess..."

I sat beside her on the bed and put my arm around her shouder, pulling her to me.

"What is it, Al?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. Nothing at all. Just me being stupid, is all."

"If you don't want this thing just say. We can carry on like we have been. We'll manage, if we have to."

She shook her head again. "Not that. No. I don't want to have to manage stuff. I want someone to take it all off me. But it feels like we're losing control."

"I trust Sandy," I said. "I've only known her a week, but I trust her."

"That's because you've had your tongue up her ass, Tom."

I laughed. "Not just that. She knows what she's doing, and I don't think she's going to rip us off."

"I know. It's me, that's all."

Ali pulled away and went to the bathroom door. 

"Ignore me, Tom. I'm up for it."

"Good."

She swirled away, deliberately showing me a flash of butt as she went and it was my turn to sigh.

Sandy and Jack arrived first, just before two and we kissed all round, except Jack and I who shook hands and bumped shoulders. Ali had changed three times, finally settling on a denim shirt and blue jeans, her hair tied up, showing her long neck. Sandy and Jack were also dressed in jeans, as was I. Jack helped me move the other two sofas so they formed a loose triangle with the old one and the girls put plates of food, dips, glasses, wine and beer on the large coffee table.

We were just finishing up when the doorbell sounded and Sandy let in the remaining two people.

"Tom, Ali, this is Tu Lai and Marty Collins."

We all brushed cheeks or shook hands then arranged ourselves on the seats, some kind of unspoken arrangement placing me and Ali at the centre of the large sofa, Sandy with us, Jack on another and Tu and Marty on the third.

Marty was a slim guy, a couple of inches shorter than me, with black framed glasses and straight dirty blond hair that fell just over his ears. He wore torn blue jeans and a Knicks sweatshirt.

Tu was extremly short, and I doubted she reached five feet. Slim and lithe, she was the most conservatively dressed, wearing a dark blue skirt that looked as though it formed part of a business suit and a white blouse buttoned almost to the neck. Her skin was a warm honey shade and her hair deep black, so black it glinted blue in the light from our windows, long so it fell almost to her waist. She had pushed it all back over her shoulders to keep her face clear. She had a small mouth with full lips, a delicate nose and dark eyes. She smiled politely when we were all being introduced, but sat now, her face a calm, emotionless mask.

There was no special reason for it, but I found her incredibly sexy. Maybe the exotic coloring, maybe the miniature nature of her, whatever it was I found myself frequently glancing in her direction.

Sandy looked at Ali and me and said, "Can I start?"

We both nodded.

"OK." Sandy sounded confident, sure of her ground. "I guess you all have some sort of idea why you're here. And I think you all know the kind of website that Tom and Ali operate?"

She glanced at the two newcomers. Obviously she and Jack did. Tu and Marty nodded, Tu's face still showing nothing. Marty was trying to supress a smile.

"And we're all OK with the kind of material that's on it?"

Again she looked at the new pair, who nodded once more.

"Fine. Ali and Tom have done pretty well so far, but they need help now. I want to suggest a proposal that is fair to everyone, and a roadmap of where this thing should go."

Sandy looked at me, turned to look at Ali.

"I've not said anything about this to either of you yet. Are you happy for me to continue?"

"Sure," I said, and Ali nodded her head.

"What I'm going to put forward might seem as though we're trying to take something away from you, but that's not the case. Remember that as I talk."

"We both trust you, Sandy," Ali said.

"I've been through your books now pretty carefully, and the first thing I need to say is that this is one hell of a business you have. It was a mess, and you both know that, but it's bringing in a significant amount of money. Somewhere in the region of $30,000 a month."

I think I looked shocked. Ali smiled at my reaction. Jack was leaning back, drinking from a bottle of beer, and I guessed he had heard all this before. Tu was leaning forward, listening, watching us for our reaction. Marty seemed as relaxed as Jack.

"However," Sandy continued, "I consider thirty K to be peanuts. The potential is unbelievable. But more than that, I think you need to seriously consider just how attached to the business you are."

She looked at us again, and we waited.

"If someone came along in, say, a couple of years, and offered to buy the website off you, would you consider that?"

I looked past Sandy at Ali, waiting for her reaction. This whole thing had been her idea to start with, I was just along for the ride.

Ali seemed to be considering, then nodded slowly. "I think so, yes. It's the drawing I like, I want to keep doing that. The website was just an idea for getting them out there. We could keep drawing, no-one could stop us doing that."

"What if whoever wanted the business inserted a clause that you couldn't draw for anyone else, couldn't sell your stuff independently?"

"Fuck 'em, then," Ali said.

Sandy gave a little grimace. "I guessed that's what you'd say. But that just might come up." She glanced at me.

"I'm with Al," I said. "Fuck 'em."

"OK. Maybe we may have worry about that if it happens," Sandy said. "Putting that aside for the moment, are you OK in principle? You'd be willing to sell up?"

"I guess," I said.

"You need to be sure. I don't want the rest of us getting into this if you change your minds down the road."

"Sandy, tell us what your proposal it," Ali said, "We'll listen and then make up our minds."

Sandy looked at Ali, her face serious, then nodded. "Right. I've run this past everyone here in the room, and we're all willing to work with you, for a salary. Initially we'll take a percentage of the profits, until we can build things up. I'm suggesting a pretty small cut, 5% each, with a cap of $50,000 each if it really takes off. That's 5% of the net profit, so expenses and costs come out first."

She looked around the room. We were all sitting forward now.

"And you need to set up a Limited Liability Company, registered here in New York. I've drawn up the papers. You and Ali need to sign them and then I can get it arranged. With this I would draw up what are known as Interest Certificates. These give each of us a share in the company. They will be allocated to everyone. You have 40% each, the rest of us 5%. I think that's fair, and gives us all a share in anything we make at the end of all this. But it gives both of you the majority holding between you.

"Then," Sandy continued, "If and when we sell up, everyone comes out of this with something, as well as the salary we have been paid. Are you both OK so far?" She looked at us.

"I'm with Al," I said. "To be honest, I don't really understand what you're telling me, but I trust you." I looked into her eyes as I spoke, looking for some sign of deception or guilt but saw only her beautiful clear blue eyes.

"The two of you continue what you have been doing, because you are the real heart of what the business is about. I'll do the accounting. Jack's going to do marketing. There's a lot he can do to get your name about, and which is not going to cost anything other than his time, and maybe a few subscriptions to some websites. Marty is going to rewrite your website and set up dedicated hosting. That'll cost you a few grand a year, but will give you more control and a much faster site. Tu is going to manage the business and cover the corporate side of things."

Sandy stopped and sat back, crossing her legs. She looked at Ali, looked at me.

I could tell you we had a long discussion, went into all the details, batted it back and forward until all the kinks were ironed out, but I would be lying. Ali looked at me, I looked at her, and we nodded.

"Do it," Ali said.

And that was it. We left everything up to them. Sandy and Tu registered the company and we all signed a bunch of papers without reading them.

Over the following months one or other of them were often in the apartment, sometimes all of us together. Tu dropped by and looked at what we were working on, looked at the backlog of sketches piled carefully for release. She came back a few times after that, and I got the impression she got off on looking at them. Tu didn't give out any vibes saying she was available, to either Ali of me, and she dressed conservatively, maybe because of the job she did. 

Somehow, though, something came through, and I continued to find her sexy as hell. She was attractive, her Vietnamese ancestry showing in the silky tone of her skin and the color and shape of her eyes.

She wore a thin gold band on her left hand, and over the months as we chatted I discovered some of her history. She was born in the States. Her parents came over after the fall of Saigon. She had married three years, and I had the distinct impression it had been an arranged marriage. She had studied Business at NYU and now worked for a large Accountancy firm.

Marty called in almost as often. He worked on the website at his own place, but wanted to show me the progress he was making. We had signed a contract for a dedicated server, hosted in New York and though none of us ever saw it, Marty assured me it was sitting in a bunker deep underground with a thousand other servers for company and the occasional wandering technician. 

He had been right, and the new site he developed was faster, cleaner and more user friendly.

On the Sunday we turned off the old site and switched to the new one, making sure our url still worked, we had another party at our place.

We tried to make an event of the switchover, but really it was Marty tapping away at a laptop then saying. "OK. Try it now."

I typed in the url and the site came up. Everyone cheered and slapped palms, but it felt like an anticlimax.

Now we had better control of the selling process, cutting out the middleman and removing their 5% take on all sales. We were also able to monitor sales in real time, and we left the stats on screen so we could watch as the money came in. We cheered to begin with when the numbers clicked up, but as the afternoon slipped into evening we grew bored, and even the racking up of real money lost its interest.

Around ten that evening we had all drunk too much. Ali was stretched out on the sofa with her legs lying across Jack and Sandy, who were sitting together at the other end. Marty was sitting on the floor leaning back against Sandy's feet, his hand gently stroking her bare leg. Sandy's skirt had risen up and bunched in her lap, and she leaned against Jack, one hand lightly tracing the long bulge in his pants, the other stroking Marty's hair.

I was leaning against the entrance to the studio nursing a glass of bourbon over ice when Tu came across and went past me and down the steps. I turned to watch her go, enjoying the way her straight black hair swung against her shoulders, letting myself scan down to where her narrow hips swayed as she descended the three wide steps.

I turned and followed her.

"You like these, don't you?" I said.

She glanced at me. "I do."

"Because they turn you on?"

She smiled, shook her head and nodded at the same time. "Sort of. But not really. I like the quality of them as well. I can tell which are yours and which are Ali's, too. And you've also got work from other people here now. But yours and Ali's are still the best."

"Why, thank you, ma'am."

Tu grinned. "You know you're good, Tom."

"I hope so."

We were standing close together, almost touching. Tu was so small the top of her head didn't reach my shoulder. Tonight she had not dressed in her usual business suit and white blouse but wore a dark gray silk top that clung to her small breasts, and a short blue wrap around skirt, much finer and looser than her normal wear. Her arms and legs were exposed, her skin that warm honey color.

She tucked her skirt up and folded her legs as she sat down and started flicking through a pile of drawings.

"Are any of these of you?"

"Some," I said, squatting down beside her. My leg rested lightly against her thigh, and she didn't pull away. I was drunk, and a small part of me wondered why I was doing this. Tu was attractive, one of those women who don't appreciate their own beauty, but she was also, now, a business colleague - a married business colleague. My body wanted her, the bourbon and wine and beer swimming around in my head and extending down to my balls wanted her. Tu was pretty wasted as well, I could tell, her eyes not quite focussed. I felt her leg press back against mine.

"Which ones?" she asked, still scanning.

I reached past her to another pile, pulled five sheets out.

"These are me," I said.

Two of them were Ali's early studies, showing me naked, my cock hard. One showed me ejaculating. The other three were new pieces Ali had drawn when I fucked Sandy. It was obvious who the models were.

Tu took them off me and looked at each, spent a long time on the second, moved on, spent a long time on the last one which showed me with my cock in Sandy's ass.

"These turn me on," she said softly.

"Why?"

She looked at me. "You know why, Tom. Because they're erotic. They jump off the paper at me they're so alive." Her voice was 100% American with no trace of an accent.

She picked up one of the sketches and held it in front of her, studying it closely.

"Have you really shaved your cock?" she asked. "Or is this what's called artistic licence?"

"What do you think?" I asked. I could feel myself growing hard in my pants. I had always thought Tu was sexy, but knew she was married, knew also if we were to work together it was safer to ignore any attraction I felt. Sandy was different, somehow, maybe because she and Jack were so completely relaxed about sex. Tu seemed more uptight.

Now she glanced at me. "I think you do shave it," she said. Her eyes were sparkling, her full lips damp where her tongue flicked out and licked them.

"We haven't really talked much, have we, me and you?" I said.

She shook her head. Her hair jet black, cut very long so it draped along her back and over her shoulders, moved loosely around her face.

My knees were aching so I turned and sat against the wall, stretching my legs out in front of me. "I'm not comfortable here. Do you want to go back through?"

She glanced over her shoulder. "I'm kind of trying to hide out, Tom. It's just... what they're doing in there... embarrasses me."

"Sex embarrasses you?"

A flush flared under her honeyed skin. "Not sex. I'm just not used to being so open about it."

I glanced at the thin wedding band on the finger of her left hand.

"Do you... and your husband enjoy a good sex life?"

Her flush deepened and spread, and she gave a tiny shake of her head.

"I want to talk to you, Tu, find out more about you," I said, "But I can't sit on this floor any longer. Are you OK if we go into my room? It's private in there."

"Your bedroom?"

I nodded.

"OK," she whispered.

I stood and offered my hand, helped her to her feet and walked with her through the living room. She took a route behind the large sofa and averted her eyes from what was happening. I was closer and glanced over.




Ali's Art Ch. 08



Jack was now naked from the waist down and Sandy was stroking his long cock. Sandy's top was pulled down, her dress hiked up, and Ali was kissing Sandy's breasts.

Marty had his mouth down on Sandy's pussy, and as I watched he lifted away, glanced across at Jack's cock and then reached across and put his hand over Sandy's. She glanced at him, her eyes heavy with lust and smiled.

Tu had reached my room and went in. I stood in the door for a moment, watching. I recalled that Jack had said something about it being OK if I wanted to fuck him. Something about them both being bisexual. But I had never picked up any bisexual vibes from Marty. Obviously I was wrong, because as I watched he leaned across and kissed Jack on his heavy balls, then raised up and took the tip Jack's cock into his mouth.

As if this was a sign all four of them moved. 

Jack slid down, offering Marty greater access. 

Sandy turned and kissed Ali full on the mouth, slid her hand up along Ali's leg, pushed her back against the sofa.

I watched them kissing and my cock ached.

"Tom..."

Tu's voice called from my room and I turned and entered, closing the door behind me.

She was sitting cross legged on the bed and I went across and stretched out alongside her.

We were quiet for a while, Tu looking down at her slim hands folded in her lap. Then she said, "You already know my parents came here from Vietnam after the war. Opened a restaurant. All the clichés. They wanted me to follow them in the business."

"You didn't want that?"

"I want more. I don't feel Vietnamese, not like they do. I'm not ashamed of who I am, but I feel American. I talk American. I eat American. I dress American."

"You don't walk American," I said.

She turned to look at me quizzically. "I don't walk American?" she asked.

I grinned. "You move way too well to be American. You glide."

"Oh."

"And your husband. He's American too?"

She shook her head. "It was an arranged marriage."

"You could have said no?"

"I could have tried. But that wasn't really an option. And besides... it's OK. Apart from..." She stopped, trailing off slowly.

"Apart from what?"

She glanced at me again, quickly, then looked back down at her hands, shrugged.

"The sex?" I asked.

She gave the little roll of her shoulders again.

"What does he do, your husband? What work?"

"Banking," she said. "High pressure, long hours, very good money."

"But not much sex," I said.

"Not much sex," she said.

"You mind that?"

"Sometimes. Not usually, but sometimes. And since I've been working with you I've thought about it a lot."

"I guess it goes with the territory," I said.

"I guess it does."

"Doesn't your husband want kids? Isn't that a cultural thing too?"

"Not for us. I guess he does, but not yet, not for a while anyway."

"Do you love him?"

"I like him. He's gentle, he's kind, and he's generous. But love was never part of the deal."

"So what do you do? Ignore it?"

She flushed once more, but did not reply.

"Tell me what you would like to do, Tu."

"I can't," she whispered.

"Describe a sketch," I said. "Describe what a sketch would look like if you were doing what you wanted."

"I'm not... comfortable with this, Tom."

"I'm pushing you. Sorry." I was slumped down along the bed, but now rolled towards her and touched her foot where it was turned up on the covers, felt the warm smoothness of her sole. "Can I just hold you, Tu?"

She looked at me and bit her bottom lip and nodded and unfolded her legs and lay on her side. I put my arm on her waist and she wriggled closer. She put her arm on my shoulder and I moved towards her. She squirmed up and put her head against my shoulder. I felt her fine hair tickle my neck and chin. Felt her warm breath caress my throat.

"I didn't think it mattered, Tom," she said, and I didn't know what she meant at first, then she continued, "I believed my life was going along fine, believed the lack of emotion was the way we both were... but then Sandy asked me to come work with you all... and I saw that it was different for some people."

She stopped for a while, cradled on my shoulder, her breathing slow. I couldn't see her face to judge her emotions. I was aware of the slimness of her waist under my hand, the smallness of her entire body. Her scent, a clean spicy scent, washed around me. Each time she breathed in I felt her move under my hand.

"You are all so... relaxed about sex," she said.

I laughed. "Not all of us."

"You are," she insisted. "Jack and Sandy. I've known Sandy for a few years, and she's wonderful, but I'm not like her. And you and Ali. God, you're both so beautiful. You must fuck all the time."

Her voice was soft, and I felt a tremor of tension in her body as she spoke, spoke words that probably felt alien to her.

"Ali and I are..." I sighed, trying to think of how to say it, reverted to cliché. "We're good friends, that's all. We're cousins and good friends."

"But you're... I just thought... looking at you together, the way you are around each other, the way you look at each other..."

"Look at each other?"

"Sorry. I didn't mean anything... but you do, Tom. You look like you belong together."

I wasn't sure how the conversation had suddenly turned to me and Ali.

I lifted my hand and touched Tu's cheek, lifted her face so we were looking directly at each other.

"Would you let me kiss you?" I asked.

"Do you want to?"

"Very much," I said.

"I would like that. But Tom..." Now Tu's hand rose to my face, touched my cheek, my lips, tracing them. "This doesn't mean anything... it doesn't have to mean anything..."

"Then why would I want to kiss you if it meant nothing, Tu?"

Our faces were closer. I could feel the back of Tu's arm move on my shoulder as her hand continued to explore my face.

Then we were too close, there was not enough space between us and she slid her hand away and our lips touched. Not yet a kiss, just a touch, and I could feel her trembling, feel her warm breath drift out between her lips and enter my mouth.

I kissed her.

Her mouth was sweet, her lips soft, and after a moment she opened her mouth against mine and I explored with my tongue, finding hers, passive at first and then growing animated.

When we broke her honeyed skin was dark with passion. She kissed me lightly again, grasped my face in her hands and kissed me harder.

She was tiny, barely five feet tall, and lying like this her small breasts hardly made an impression against me, her slim hips pressed against my belly, her delicate feet stroked against my thigh.

"This is not a mistake," I said.

"Good."

I kissed her again and rolled onto my back, pulling her on top of me and she put her legs either side of my waist as she kissed me back.

I tugged her cream silk blouse loose from her skirt and slid my hand inside. Her skin was so smooth, the softest thing I had ever felt.

"Don't be gentle, Tom," Tu gasped, sitting back and starting to unbutton her blouse.

I lay on my back and watched as it parted, the silk draping softly against her skin. She pulled it loose and dropped it over the side of the bed. Her body was small and slim, her breasts small, given shape by the slightly padded bra she wore, but that too soon followed her blouse and I lifted myself up and kissed her nipples. They were dark, almost black, and grew hard against my tongue.

Tu put her head back, her long straight hair falling to her waist as she encouraged my access to her body.

I put my head around her side and found the tie of her skirt, undid it and unwrapped the soft material from around her. Tu lifted and twisted and between us we removed her skirt. Now she wore just small red panties. I put my fingers inside the waistband of them and looked up at her eyes. She stared back at me, whatever reluctance she might have had now washed away by lust.

"Do you think you can do something special for me, Tom?" she asked, her silk skin under my hands.

"Anything you want," I said. "Anything at all."

"I've... made myself cum, but I've never cum with someone else."

"Never?"

She shook her head.

"Is that all?" I said.

"Will you make me cum, Tom? Please?"

I smiled and kissed her breasts again, lifted her up and kissed her belly.

"I'll try," I said.

My hands wrapped all the way around her tiny waist and I continued holding her, slowly drawing her up, her body hardly any weight at all. I kissed her navel. Moved down and kissed the flat of her lower belly.

I reached her panties and tugged at them with my teeth, rubbed my mouth against the mound of her pussy, smelled the scent of her, tasted her on my tongue.

"Oh Tom, are you going to do that? No-one's ever done that to me."

I lifted her higher, lifted her and placed her so her knees were astride my neck, freeing my hands. I pulled at her panties and drew them down her legs, could not remove them but they were down far enough for what I needed to do.

I shifted position and let my tongue flick against her pussy. She pubic hair was untrimmed but sparse, fine and silky.

I searched with my tongue and found the nub of her clitoris and Tu shivered.

I probed and parted the tight opening to her pussy and she tried to open her legs but her panties prevented it. She gasped and tugged at them, pulling, and I heard a rip and then they were loose, dangling, torn, and she widened her legs and pressed against my mouth.

She gripped the wooden headboard as I cupped her small round ass in my hands and pulled her against me mouth. My tongue probed, exploring, tasting the wonderful flavor of her oiled inner folds.

She was wet and tight, grinding against me, consumed by her need and I used what little technique I had acquired to bring her to a peak, hold her there and gently bring her down. I was intending to draw it out for a while, but her need was too great and as she felt me slow the pace she lifted and ground harder against me. I knew she could not wait, and worked her upwards again.

She was breathing hard, her teeth clenched and her eyes screwed shut and I stroked her ass and back and legs and flicked my tongue inside her tight pussy and she cried out, once, softly, putting her hand across her mouth to stifle the sound as her trembling grew and she suddenly bucked against my face.

She made small whimpering sounds, holding them down inside as she pulsed against me, her body tensing and jerking.

Slowly she stilled, still sitting astride me face. Then she pulled away, slid down along my still clothed body, tugging at her ruined panties and throwing them away. She kissed me.

"You taste of me," she said.

"You taste good." I said.

"You think?"

"I know."

She put her hand on my belly.

"Can we take some of your clothes off now?" she asked.

"Sounds like a plan."

She wriggled down and undid my pants, pulled them down my thighs, touched the hard ridge my cock formed in my shorts.

"You are much bigger than Kim," she said.

"Kim's your husband?"

She nodded and tugged my shorts off. My cock pulled down and then sprang up to slap my belly.

"Much bigger," she said. "And you do shave down here."

She put her hand around me, her fingers barely meeting, not because I was that well hung but because she was so small.

Her long black hair brushed against my balls and she grabbed it and flung it back over her shoulder. Her back was arched, her tiny ass pointing in the air and she put her mouth down against my cock and kissed the underside of it.

She looked up at me, looking for a reaction perhaps, but I was entranced watching her small mouth peck against my cock. She worked up to the head, slowly, rubbing me the whole time, then kissed the very tip. Still looking at me she opened her lips and let half an inch press into her mouth. Even that stretched her lips, and she pressed harder, forcing me deeper inside. I guess, knew, she had never done this before, but the idea of my cock stretching her mouth was unbelievably erotic and I had to hold myself back. I was sure a mouthful of my cum was not what she had in mind, not just yet.

She sucked me and then lifted back, the head of my cock glistening with her saliva. She rolled onto me, rubbing her body against my cock, her hand still gripping me, rolling it against her small breasts, rubbing it against her belly, stroking it between her legs, sitting on it so I lay along the crack of her ass, then she turned so her head was down next to my cock again and I slid two fingers inside her pussy and she gasped.

"It is your turn, Tom," she said.

"There are no turns, Tu. Only this."

"I want you to cum, Tom," she said.

"I can do that," I said.

"I want to watch you cum."

"That too," I said.

She rubbed me harder, pecked at my balls with her pretty mouth, pecked at my cock, let me rest between her lips while she rubbed me hard but when I pressed up she pulled away.

Still rubbing me hard, she looked at me and said, "I've never had a man cum in my mouth, Tom."

"You don't need to now, either, Tu."

She looked at me for a time, into my eyes, then nodded. "Thanks."

"But I am going to cum," I said.

Her eyes widened and she moved down so her face was next to my cock.

"Now?"

I nodded.

"Mmm."

"Now," I said, and thrust my hips up as the feeling peaked and I knew I couldn't hold anything back.

Tu rubbed me hard and I ejaculated a long stream of cum that arced up and splashed on my shoulder.

"Oh God," she gasped, but she kept on rubbing, watching as more jets followed, not as powerful, four, five, six times, each a little less explosive,

Tu slowed, stroking me now, touching the slippery cum spread across my belly and chest. She looked at it, then rolled across me and pressed herself onto me, wriggling, still head down and I grabbed her waist and pulled her pussy onto my mouth again and she gasped.

She turned, sliding down me, our bodies lubricated.

"You're still hard, Tom," she said.

I nodded.

"I want you to fuck me," she said.

I nodded again and she straddled me and guided my cock to her entrance.

She stared into my eyes as my cock pressed between the lips of her pussy. She pressed down, parting slowly around my girth.

"God, Tom," she said.

"Stop if it hurts."

She shook her head. "It feels so good... I never knew it could feel like this."

She grunted and forced herself down on me, pushing my cock deeper. I had never felt anything as tight as her pussy, not even when I was fucking Sandy's ass, but Tu was wet and my cum added lubrication and slowly, little by little, she forced me deeper inside until my cock was buried.

She sat back and began to move, rocking against me, lifting up, driving me back deep inside.

She leaned over and kissed me, sat back up.

I lay beneath her, watching as she took her pleasure, enjoying the fact she was using me.

She fucked herself on my cock for five minutes, the flush spreading out from the center of her chest, darkening the honey color of her skin. Her eyes became clouded and her mouth hung open. 

Her small breasts moved, shaking as she ground against me, and she lifted her hands and clutched at them, pulling at her dark nipples.

Her movements became more rapid, and she started to jerk.

"Fuck me, Tom," she gasped. "Fuck me hard."

But it was Tu doing the fucking, pulsing and rocking against my cock and she shivered and gasped and shook against me as she came.

She took her time, learning quickly how to extend her orgasm, but finally she collapsed onto my chest, her lips nuzzling my neck. Being a spectator to her pleasure had turned me on too much and I needed to finish.

I grabbed her waist and lifted her, still embedded on my cock, and turned sideways so my legs were over the bed. Tu wrapped her legs around my waist and grinned.

"You going to fuck me again, Tom?" She said, smiling sweetly.

"You bet your sweet ass," I said.

"Fuck me then, Tom. Fuck me hard. Fuck me as hard as you can."

I stood up, still holding her, and she gasped.

"Of fuck Tom, yes, like this."

I stood on the bare wooden floor beside the bed and thrust into her, easily taking her feather-light weight.

She put her arms around me, her legs crossed behind my back, her mouth kissing my neck and lips.

"Fuck me hard," she whispered in my ear, over and over.

Her sweat mixed with mine, making our bodies slick and I pumped hard, grunting on each thrust and she bit my ear and then my neck.

"Hard Tom... fuck me hard... harder..."

I cried out and exploded, cumming deep inside her unbelievably tight pussy, filling her until I felt the cum slide out around my cock and drip onto my legs.

I turned and pulled her off me and let her drop back on the bed. She rolled over fast and came back, grabbed my cock and sucked it into her mouth, sucking the traces of cum from it.

She rolled away again, lying sprawled on the bed, a grin and a small spot of cum on her mouth.

"I like the taste of your cum, Tom," she said. "If we do this again, I want you to fuck my mouth until you cum."

"I'd like that."

"Will we do this again, Tom?"

"I think so, don't you?"

Her face turned serious. "Oh yes. But it's OK. I only want sex. Nothing else. After all, I'm a married woman, you know," and then she grinned.

"Are you staying?" I asked.

"Can't. I'm expected home."

"You'd better shower then," I said. "Even if your husband isn't into sex, I think he'd still be able to smell it on you."

She looked down at her sweat streaked body and nodded.

I grinned at her "And we'd better just hope he doesn't notice you've come home without your panties."



Ali's Art Ch. 09



It was a Saturday morning at the tail end of April, four months since I had returned from my Christmas adventures, 12 weeks after we had photographed Jack and Sandy, when Ali strolled into my room with two mugs of coffee and plopped herself down on my bed. It was becoming a habit, some mornings, particularly on a weekend if she was on her own and feeling bored, to come in early and tease me.

She knew exactly how to get my blood racing, with a glance, a comment, or a look. At the beginning I got mad, and then eventually it dawned on me that it was just a game for her. She wasn't into guys, but fucking with my head got her off in some weird way. Once I realized that I could get into the game as well, and started giving almost as good as I got.

On this morning it was cold outside, Spring hanging back, but my bedroom was cosy, heat popping in the radiators, and I was sleeping in just my shorts. Ali, of course, wore her robe, the short satin one that covered only half her thighs and kept mysteriously slipping open to flash the top of a breast or a nipple. It was a game we both appreciated, both knew the boundaries of.

"How's your sex life then, Tom?" Ali said. "I haven't seen you bring anyone new home for a while. You've seen a lot of Tu though, haven't you? Does she like that big cock of yours? I'm amazed she can fit it in anywhere." She grabbed the duvet and pulled it up, peering down underneath it. She shook her head, "Not so big, after all."

"I'm good," I said, lifting myself up and taking a sip of my coffee. It was hot and burnt the inside of my mouth. "But I try not to get distracted by semi-naked cousins any more."

"Do you mean I can be distracting?" Ali said, posing herself, pushing her boobs out.

I looked, as I was meant to, and shook my head. "Nope. Doesn't do anything for me anymore. Sorry."

Ali slumped back against the pillows on what had become her side of the bed. "Good. That makes things a lot simpler, don't you think?" She lifted her knees and the hem of the robe slid up along her thighs and pooled over her hips. She looked at her legs and stroked the flat of one hand along her thigh and nodded as though happy with what she felt.

"How come?" I tried my coffee again.

"Well, now I can go around buck naked if I want, anytime I want, and I won't have to worry about getting you all sexed up like I used to."

"You thought you used to get me sexed up, did you?"

"Hah. Good try, Tom. I've seen that bulge in your pants before now."

"Naturally endowed, that's all. Doesn't mean I was aroused."

"Oh, of course, silly me."

"I see your sex life hasn't slowed down though," I said.

She giggled wickedly. "Well - girls keep throwing themselves at my feet, what am I supposed to do?"

"At your feet?" I said. "Throwing themselves somewhere a bit higher than that, I'd say."

"Sexist pig," she said and punched me on the arm.

"What's sexist about that? It's you getting your pussy licked most nights. I'm just observing the world around me."

Ali rolled over onto her stomach and put her chin in her hands and stared at me. The robe had fallen open and I had a clear view down into her cleavage, her breasts swaying as she breathed.

"And you'd like to observe that, I bet."

"Of course. I'm a sexist pig, remember. It's all we ever think about." I rolled my eyes and moaned. "Two girls fucking... mmm!" Homer Simpson would have been proud.

Ali slapped me again, harder.

"So tell me, Tom," she said, "If you're only fucking Tu lately, and I know that's not so often, what are you doing - taking care of yourself?"

"A boy needs some secrets, Al," I said.

"I bet that's it," she said. "You're in here every night beating off, thinking about the girls I'm with. Would it help if I told you what they do to me?" she added sweetly.

"I don't know if I'd be interested," I lied. My cock, as it always did when Ali was this close and in this mood, had filled my shorts and was aching to be released. Ali glanced quickly across at the tent in the sheet and smiled sweetly.

"No, I guess not. So I won't tell you how Martha - you remember her, Wednesday night? - how Martha who had those really big tits, like really big," and Ali rolled her eyes, "How she likes to rub them on my face, and how she likes to rub her nipples on my pussy. She made me cum just doing that. She pushes her nipples into me - really big, really hard nipples, I guess they're over an inch long when they're hard, and they're hard all the time I'm with her, and really fat, big fat nipples. She likes to push them inside my cunt." When she was like this Ali liked using coarse words, maybe trying to shock me.

"Can she get them in very far?" I asked, trying to feign a casual tone.

"Oh yes, quite a long way. Enough to bring me off."

"Does it feel good?"

Ali nodded. "It does, Tom. It's because they're so big, her tits, and she pushes them against my pussy, rubs them all over me, and then she pushes her nipple inside my pussy and puts a finger up my bum." She was smiling sweetly as though using the British word made it somehow less raunchy.

"You do like your ass being touched up, don't you Al?"

She grinned. "Nothing wrong with that," she said. 

"I didn't say there was."

"And what about you, Tom? I bet you'd love to stick that cock of yours in a girl's ass. True or not?"

I shrugged.

Ali laughed again. "You liked fucking Sandy's ass, didn't you?" she wheedled, giving me a wicked smile.

"You know I did," I said.

"Ha!" Ali exploded. She punched me again and then aimed a second blow at my stomach. I grabbed her wrist before her fist reached me and twisted her around, pulling her arm up behind her back while I pushed her face down into the bed. She squealed and wriggled and I sat across her legs to hold her down.

"Let's see," I said, gripping her arm with one hand and dropping the other down her leg. "Is this 'bum' worth getting worked up about, I wonder?" I grabbed the hem of her robe and tugged it up, kept tugging until it uncovered her round, smooth ass, pulled it up until it lay half way up her muscled back.

"Hmm," I said, sitting back on her knees. "Not bad, I guess. Bit small. Looks like it would be tight. I don't think I'd want to fuck this one, even if I you begged me to."

"You wish, buster!" she grunted, still trying to wriggle free. She lifted her right leg and smacked me hard on my back with her heel and it hurt.

"Hey," I said, sitting down harder. I noticed my cock was on the point of slipping out of my shorts. Ah well, what the hell.

I slapped Ali hard on her ass and she squealed again, wriggled some more. I saw my hand had left a faint red mark on her butt and for a moment I felt guilty.

"Oops Al, didn't mean to do that quite so hard."

"I bet. Anyway, that wasn't hard. I hardly felt it. Go on, really try to hit me you wimp."

I smacked her again, then once more, each strike a bit harder than the one before.

"Gnn," Ali grunted. "Featherweight."

I slapped her again, hard, and she gasped and shivered.

"Enough now?"

"Huh," she said, but she was gasping as well when she said it, "Tell me when you're going to start then."

I let her arm go and brought my hand down as hard as I could. The smack echoed off the walls and Ali squealed and wriggled. I hit her again, then once more and she squirmed loose and turned over.

She lay under me then, her robe pulled up above her waist, her pussy exposed, her right breast pulled out from the robe. I noticed her nipple was hard.

"Nice tits," I said.

"Why thank you, sir." She glanced down at my cock, rigid and outlined inside my shorts. "What's that doing there?"

"Nothing," I said.

"I thought you were off girls."

"I am. I'll try and explain it to my dick as soon as it's willing to listen."

Ali wriggled some more, but instead of trying to pull her robe back to cover herself she seemed to be trying to take it off. Her other breast popped into view, and the front parted to show her all the way down her belly to her prominent pubic mound.

"Like what you see, Tom?" she teased, looking at where I was gazing.

"Scientific interest only, cuz," I said.

"Oh yeah, I forgot." Then she reached down and cupped her hand under the bottom of my cock, her fingers curling up and cradling it. "What are you going to do about this then? Want to wack off for me again?"

"You'd like that, I bet," I said. "Watching me using my own hand."

She grinned. "You could always resort to my hand, if you prefer."

I looked down at her, suddenly nervous. "Oh yeah," I said, "Let a dyke loose on that. What would you do with it anyway? It's not a dildo, you know."

"Hmm," she said, "Looks like one. Though I've never gone in for dildo's, truth to tell. Why would I be into girls and still want a pretend cock?"

I noticed she still hadn't released me. I felt a bead of pre-cum ooze from my cock head and we both watched as it formed a damp patch on my shorts. Ali reached with her other hand and touched it. She rubbed her fingertips together.

"Slippy," she said. She looked up at me. "You going to let me finish you off then?"

I looked back down at her. "Enough joking, Al," I said, and tried to pull back.

She lifted her knees to stop me getting away and tightened her hand all the way round my cock, trapping me inside my shorts.

"Not joking, Tom. If you want a pretend fuck I'm up for it."

"Yeah?"

She nodded. "Just lying here thinking about it's making me wet," she said.

"Really?"

She nodded again. "Cop a feel if you want..."

I looked down at her pussy. It did seem to glisten along the inner folds of her labia. Her clitoris had filled and poked a fair distance out at the top of her slit.

I tried to pull away again and she grasped me more tightly.

Then she lifted her legs and pushed her foot up inside the leg of my shorts. I felt her toes touch my balls, wriggle up until they lay against my cock.

"You need to take these off," she said.

I was incredibly aroused, incredibly frustrated, and a little angry at Ali for messing with me, so I grabbed my shorts and tugged them down. I grabbed her foot and pulled it out from my shorts and then slid them off.

I sat back on my heels and Ali looked then slid her foot slowly back up along my leg, flicked my cock with her toes to make it sway, then raised her other foot and gripped my cock between her soles. As her legs rose her thighs parted, displaying her pussy, opening her outer lips and I saw the wet inner folds.

I felt my cock trapped inside her arches, pressing against me, my cock cradled.

"Go on, Tom, pretend fuck. I won't do anything, I promise, just do this," and she moved her feet, maneuvering around my cock until it was cupped between her feet. "Go on Tom, fuck my feet. Fuck my feet and let me watch you cum?"

"Ali," I said. "Do you think this is a good idea?."

"I do," she said.

"We're friends, not lovers."

She laughed lightly. "Fucking my toes doesn't make you my lover, bud, whatever you might think. I don't want you to fuck me, I know that would ruin everything. I like things just the way they are," She looked down at her feet circled around my cock. Another bead of fluid filled my central slit and dripped down onto her ankle where it pooled and then slid down the side of her leg.

"This is not the way things are, Al," I said. "This is more than the way things are."

"Only a bit though, yeah?"

I realized she was serious. She really did want me to fuck her like this and cum. Cum on her, I guessed, because in this position that would definitely be the case.

"It feels more than a bit," I said.

She squeezed me between her soles. "It does," she said, and grinned.

"But will you still love me in the morning?" I asked.

"Oh fuck no! Love 'em and leave 'em, it's the only way."

"Well, in that case..." I said, and began to rock my hips gently, pushing my cock through her feet. She arched her toes, gripping me more tightly. It felt unbelievably hot. Ali kept her legs rigid, rocking slightly as I pushed into them.

"That's the boy," she said.

"You know if I keep this up there'll be consequences?" I said.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," I said. You might want to take your robe all the way off unless you don't mind washing it.

"There is that," she said, and pulled her feet away from my cock. It felt lost at the sudden removal of her warmth. Ali pulled at her robe, wriggled her body to and fro and tugged the robe off. She tossed it away over the side of the bed and lay back down, completely naked below me.

"Just one thing," she said.

"What's that?"

"You have to promise not to take advantage of me now I'm naked," she said, "I wouldn't want you getting the wrong idea about me. I'm not an easy lay, you know."

"I'd guessed as much," I said.

"Good." Ali nodded and lifted her legs again, lifted them slowly, parting them and placing her feet flat on my chest. Her pussy opened and displayed for me and I could smell the string scent of her sex drifting upwards. I looked down at my beautiful cousin and wanted to slide between her parted legs and kiss her pussy, but knew that would spoil everything so I stayed where I was and watched as she slid her hand down between her legs and inserted two fingers inside her pussy.

She looked up at my face and grinned. "Like what you see, Tom?"

"Oh yeah."

Her grin widened and she pulled her fingers out, lifted them and pushed them into her mouth, sucked them.

She slid her feet down, back to my cock, then looked at them, at me, and suddenly turned onto her side.

"Got a great idea for this," she said, rolling again until she was on her stomach. She lifted up onto her elbows and looked back at me over her shoulder. "How about we try this."

She bent her legs, lifted her feet until her heels sat on the firm round globes of her ass.

Her arm waved in the air, calling me towards her.

"Come on Tom, slip it between my feet like this."

I had never known Ali be like this before. Flirty, rude, sometimes very rude, but this was different.

I moved up, leaned forward and put my hands down, one either side of her.

"Closer," she said, lowering her arms and putting her head on my pillows.

Her legs moved as I laid against them. I felt her feet searching for me. The outside of one foot brushed my cock, drifted away, came back.

"You know what to do," she said, her voice muffled as she pressed her face into the pillows.

I moved closer, grasped my cock and positioned it. I held a foot in one hand and pulled it against my cock. Ali drew the other foot to it, trapping me.

"Fuck, that's hot," she grunted. "Fuck me like that, Tom."

I moved between her feet, looking down at the head of my cock appearing from between her soles, sliding back between. She was right, it was fucking hot!

Her feet rested against the cheeks of her ass, and I imagined pressing forward hard, pressing down until my cock touched her ass, parted her cheeks. I wanted that so much, and knew I couldn't have it.

I allowed my rhythm to increase.

Ali reached underneath herself, her fingers finding her pussy.

As she lifted to allow herself access her ass rose and the head of my cock touched her, just parted the crack of her ass and I pulled back, away from temptation.

"Coward," Ali muttered.

I laughed, knowing she would be appalled had I let my cock continue where it wanted to go.

I had to take most of my weight on my arms to prevent myself crushing Ali's legs, and the effort popped sweat on my chest and it gathered and dripped down onto her smooth back.

"Does that feel good?" Ali said softly. She twisted around so she could half see what I was doing, her neck and breasts flushed, her mouth parted.

"That feels fucking wonderful," I said.

"That's what I wanted."

"But afterwards, I've got to do something for you, Al."

She lifted her gaze and looked at me. "I don't know."

"You said you were wet," I said. "I'd like to bring you off as well. But I don't know how. I don't want to, you know, fuck you or anything. But if there's something I can do?"

"I'll think about it while you pretend to fuck my ass," she said, and looked back down.

So she knew what I was thinking.

I made no effort at all that morning to hold anything back. I could feel the pressure rise behind my balls, watching as more pre-cum gathered and dripped down onto her thighs, watched as my heavy ball sac tightened and lifted up to my body.

My breath was coming in gasps, and I worked my hips faster, desperate to release the building pressure.

Ali was panting as well, making an effort to keep her feet wrapped around my cock.

"Cum for me, Tom, " she whispered. " I know you want to."

"I want to," I grunted. "Fuck, I want to."

"Then let it go," she said.

"Nnn." I grunted.

I peaked and tipped over and I thrust my hips forward, my cock slipping through her soles until they gripped only the hard base of my length and a thick rope of semen spat from me and arced across Ali's ass, splashing down on her cheeks and leaving a glistening trail down between her crack. I gushed again and left a trail across her back. As each jet splashed onto her she jerked and made a small noise deep in her throat.

My arms were shaking and I pulled back, pulling my cock from between her feet and sitting back on my heels.

Ali reached around with her hand, slid it along herself, feeling the trail I had left.

"Wow..." she breathed. "You sure wanted to cum, Tom."

I laughed breathlessly.

Her fingers trailed through my slippery cum, spreading it over herself. She slid her fingers down along her ass, down into the crack of her ass, pushing my cum between the round globes.

"I don't know whether that was a good idea or not," I said. "But it felt fucking amazing!"

"I'm glad," she said, and she turned, rolling onto her back. I was slumped back along the bed and she slid one foot along my thigh, played her toes around my balls, along my cock, then pushed hard under me and I felt her toe push against me asshole.

My cock had shrunk down and lay loose against my thigh.

"Are you finished?" Ali asked.

"Wasted," I said.

"What about my turn?"

I pulled myself up to look at her, look along her lean body. As I had turned her she had opened her legs and her inner lips showed red, glistening.

"Did you mean that, Al? You'd let me do something for you?"

She nodded, her face serious.

"Anything," I said.

She smiled. "Anything?"

I nodded. "Anything at all."

"Well, we might save anything at all for another time. But right now I want to do that to you. I want to make myself cum against you."

"Against my cock?" I said.

She laughed. " No, dork. I already said I'm not into cocks. Against your mouth. Is that alright, Tom?"

She had to be joking. "Of course that's alright. I'd love you to."

"But you have to promise you won't do anything," she said. "You can poke your tongue out a bit if you want, but not far. Just open your lips a bit and let me fuck myself off on your mouth."

I nodded. I could feel my cock filling again at the idea. Ali looked at it and grinned.

"I guess you really don't mind, do you?"

"Fuck no," I said. I motioned her with my hand. She looked at me for a moment as though debating whether to go through with this. But I guess she was as aroused as I had been and she pulled herself into a sitting position, then twisted and knelt. 

Her breasts moved, swaying as she changed position, her nipples now rock hard. She put a knee either side of my hips and then walked her way up along my body. I watched as her face, her chest, her boobs, her stomach slid out of view above my head. Her pussy came closer, and I could smell the scent of it, hot and musky as she approached.

Finally she was sitting with her pussy almost touching my chin. I could see clearly how wet she was, fluid leaking out of her and trailing down along her thighs.




Ali's Art Ch. 09



"Now remember, Tom, you can use you tongue but you can't push it in or wriggle it about. This is me fucking your mouth, that's all. It's not sex, it's just relieving myself."

I nodded, my chin touching her pubic bone as I did.

"And no grabbing my ass or tits," she said. "No touching, just your mouth."

"Okay," I said, smiling.

She walked her knees up another couple of inches and gently lowered her pussy down to my waiting mouth. I parted my lips and tasted her for the first ever time as her warm pussy lips pressed against my mouth. I heard her sigh and push harder against me. I opened my mouth a little more and let my tongue slip out and barely push inside her. She tasted wonderful, tangy and sweet at the same time, and within seconds her juices had soaked my cheeks and started to fill my mouth.

Ali leant forward, put her arms down above my head, her knees bent and her feet resting across my belly below my navel. She started to hump herself against my mouth, pulling back but never removing contact, pushing forward and flattening my lips and as she did I let my tongue part her and slip inside, but never far. As she rocked her toes moved and my now hard cock rocked from side to side, slapping gently between one sole and the other. 

I thought I might cum again, but didn't care.

Ali's lower belly pressed against my nose and forehead. Her skin was soft and silky. Her pussy was as smooth and clean as her belly, no shaving marks, no stubble, just smooth and soft and wet.

I could hear her panting as she speeded up, working herself hard against my mouth. More of her juices ran down into my mouth and I cheated and let my tongue run around inside one edge of her open pussy and up the other side, swallowed when her juices filled my mouth and let more flow in. I dared to push my tongue up higher, and found her clitoris, worked against the hard nub and Ali grunted and began to fuck me harder.

My cock slapped between her feet, and she brought them together and gripped me again with her toes and I began to thrust up between them.

Ali lifted herself a little higher and her clitoris moved out of reach of my tongue, but she offered easier access to her inner folds and I let myself dip deeper than she had offered but she made no protest, only increased her rhythm, and I pushed further inside, feeling the smooth inner walls and tasting the delicious nectar that flowed off them.

"Oh fuck, Tom," she hissed. "You fucking cheating bastard... but don't you dare stop now..."

She speeded up again, wildly humping against my mouth, flattening my nose and lips, and then I felt a tremble start in her thighs where they gripped my neck and then she was crying out and bucking against me, pushing hard against my mouth and I let my tongue loose and pushed it as far as I could inside her and she sat on it and tried to pull me even deeper as she jerked and shook. 

She seemed to climax once, then continued pumping against me for twenty seconds and I felt a second wave sweep through her. 

As she started to cum again I released my own load and felt it fly up and splatter my stomach, some of it almost certainly splashing on Ali's back it was so powerful. I had no idea how I managed that again so quickly, but if anything I came harder than the first time. I wanted to grab her ass and pull her down against me but held back, remembering the terms she had given me, even though I had already stretched their boundary.

As she came the second time she screamed and grabbed my hair in her hands and ground herself on my mouth and I felt a sudden rush of warm salty fluid fill my mouth. I swallowed, but there was too much and it overflowed and ran down my chin and over my neck.

Ali slumped forwards, falling across my face, her pussy still pressed to my mouth, and I kissed her gently on the outer lips, the inner lips, the inner folds, her thighs, her clit, and she shivered and then rolled away.

"Fuck fuck fuck," she whispered. She lay on her side, her pussy still turned towards me and I had to make myself just look and not pounce.

"Not as good as a girl, though, I bet," I said.

"Not as... oh, I see." She smiled. "I wouldn't be so sure about that, Tom."

"You enjoyed it, then," I said.

"Fucking A. But I'm sorry I used you, Tom, that wasn't fair." She looked at me for a long time, her face serious. "Still friends, Tom?"

I smiled. "Of course still friends, Al. Always friends. Always and always."

Her face was still serious. "Good. I don't want to do anything that might drive you away."

"You could never do that."

"Just so you know," she said. "If you ever want to-" She stopped, a frown pulling her eyebrows together. "I don't know what I want to say. I do know what I want to say, but I don't know if I ought to."

"You can say anything to me, Al, you know that."

"I hope so."

"Of course."

"If you ever want to fuck me, Tom, you know, if you really, really want to fuck me you have to say so, OK? Because I'm not into men, but I am into you. If you want to I would let you fuck me. I would let you fuck me anywhere you wanted. In my mouth. In my pussy. In my ass. You could fuck me any way you wanted."

"Wow," I said, "Some speech for a girl whose just brought herself off on my mouth," I said, deliberately trying to lighten the mood.

Ali slapped me hard on my stomach, grabbed me and rolled me over and started to slap my ass. It stung, but it felt kind of good too so I lay there for a while and let her.

She lay down across me, her full naked body pressed against my back, and whispered in my ear, "But you know you can, Tom."

I nodded into the duvet. "I know, Al. But I like you way too much to do that."

She hugged herself tight against me. "I like you too much as well Tom." She rolled away and got off the bed, looked down at herself, twisted to look at where streaks of my cum were sliding down her back.

"Maybe I've changed my mind, anyway. Why do men have to be so fucking messy?"

"Kiss my ass," I said.

"In your dreams." She turned and walked out, deliberately rolling her ass as she went, and a moment later I heard the shower running.

I rolled over onto my back and put my hands behind my head, stared up at the ceiling.

I heard the phone start to ring out in the living room, but felt too drained to move. I waited, counting the rings, got to 10 when it stopped.

I assumed whoever it was had rung off, but then heard Ali's voice, soft, then laughter. I guessed the call was for her, because she chatted for a couple of minutes. Then she called out: "Tom, it's your Mom!"

I rolled out of bed, went to grab my shorts and thought Fuck it, walked through naked.

Ali was in the same state, holding the phone out to me.

"I thought you were taking a shower," I said.

"Just about to. You obviously weren't going to pick up."

"Thanks," I took the phone, "Hi Mom, how are you?"

"Great, Tom, thanks. You and Ali getting on alright then?"

I looked at my gorgeous cousin, leaning naked against the wall. "Like a house on fire," I said.

"That's wonderful. I've got some news."

"Yeah? Go on then."

I don't know what I thought it would be, a new job, new car, Sarah had been given some award. What she said would have knocked my socks off, if I'd had any on.

"I'm getting married, Tom," she said.

I stood there for several seconds with my mouth open. Ali cocked her head to one side, and eventually nudged me in the ribs.

"Oh... uh, that's great, Mom. Anyone I know?"

"Are you okay with this, Tom?" Mom said. "I know it's a surprise, and we were, uh, kind of close over Christmas. I wasn't sure how you might take it."

I looked at Ali, aware of how close she was, not sure how much of Mom's conversation she could overhear.

"It's good, Mom. I'm really happy for you."

"You're not just saying that, Tom, are you? Because if I thought this would-"

"Mom, I think it's great news." And I felt a surge of guilt - not for what we had happened at Christmas, but for my feelings now. I really was happy she was getting married, but some of that was to do with something I had not even been aware of until she gave me this news.

I realized I felt free again. After fucking my Mom, there had been a much closer bond between us: I felt more responsible for her, her happiness, her satisfaction, her future. But if she had found someone else then I had been released from whatever responsibility I might have felt.

"Are you sure? After what happened?"

There was something odd in her voice, and I wondered if she wanted me to be upset. Wanted me to need her, to say she couldn't marry. But that had to be wrong, had to be me putting emotions onto her that didn't exist.

"Of course I am. So, do I know this lucky guy?"

"Jerry Wilson. I think you know him. He's a teacher at North Caroline."

"I remember him. Did he come around to the house once, a few years ago?"

"Yeah, that's him. He divorced, about four years ago. I've known him ever since I've worked at the school. We've been out on a couple of unofficial dates over the years, but... I don't know... I think I've got you to thank for this, Tom." She giggled like a teenager.

"Me? I don't get it."

"I think I've been giving out stay away vibes, ever since your Dad died. After what happened Christmas, I guess that's not the case anymore. Things have moved very fast, Tom. Very fast." And I knew what she was trying to tell me.

"That's good," I said.

"I think so," Mom said.

"Does Sarah like him?" I asked.

Ali had moved away and was making more coffee, still wandering around buck naked, and I cupped the phone to my ear, crossed my arms and watched her, feeling my cock gently respond.

"She loves him," Mom said. "He's real good with her. He's going to make a great Dad."

"Has he got any kids of his own?"

"Two. Boy and girl, all grown up, both married."

"And this is really what you want, Mom?" I asked, then went on quickly. "I'm pleased for you, Mom, and don't think you owe me anything because of Christmas," I tried to keep my voice low, not wanting to explain anything to Ali. "But is this really what you want?"

I heard Mom sigh, but it was not a sad sound. "I think it is, Tom. I loved our special Christmas, but I know it wasn't real."

"Felt pretty real to me," I said.

She laughed. "You know what I mean. It's not like I could marry you, is it? But this... this feels right, Tom. Are you happy for me?"

"I am," I said, and meant it, and hoped my sincerity reached her.

"I miss you though, Tom. I miss your body. I miss your kisses." She lowered her voice. "And I miss your cock."

I could feel myself starting to respond, and tried to change the subject.

"I miss you too, Mom," I said. "So when's the big day?"

Ali brought a mug off coffee across to me and I took it. She glanced down, looking at my cock, now half erect, and raised an eyebrow. I kept my face neutral, pretending not to notice her. I was hoping she would go for her shower, the water still running in the bathroom, but she hung around, sipping her own coffee, as naked as I was.

"June," Mom said. "As soon as school finishes. Sarah's going to camp this year, so we've booked a week while she's away. You're coming, aren't you? And Alison? You both have to come to the wedding."

"Of course I'm coming. And Ali too. I'll make her."

Alison raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"I'd like you to house sit for me as well. Can you manage that?"

"I should think so," I said, smiling.

"Great. I'm excited now, Tom. It didn't feel real, somehow, until I'd told you. Now it does. God, Tom, I'm getting married!"

"Congratulations," I said.

I heard Sarah's voice in the background, and then Mom said. "Tom, gotta run. We're late for hockey practice, and then, well, there's just so much to do. I'll call you soon and tell you all the arrangements."

"Great," I said.

I thought she had gone, but then she said, "Oh, and Tom, I want you to give me away. At the wedding. I can't think of anyone I'd rather do that."

"I'd love to," I said, suddenly feeling my throat tighten up.

Then she really had gone.

I replaced the phone, sipped my coffee.

Ali said, "You always get a hard on talking to your Mom?"

I looked down.

"I was thinking about you."

She laughed. "It's okay if you do. I get one thinking about your Mom. You know I get wet when I think about her. And anyway, you're not allowed to think about me, not like that."

I laughed and slapped her hard on the butt. "Go take your shower, girl. Then I've got some news for you."



Ali's Art Ch. 10



This chapter is told from Ali's point of view. I hope it is not too confusing, but this part of the story would not work out any other way.

~~~

Tom and I flew into BWI and picked up our hire car for the week. It was Friday, 16th June, the day before Tom's Mom was getting married. I had been worried about how Tom was feeling. His relationship with his Mom seemed complicated, and sometimes I wondered about the two of them. But as far as I could tell he was really happy for her.

It was early afternoon when we drove out from the airport and picked up Highway 2 to Anapolis. Less than an hour later we were driving high above the water as we crossed into Queen Anne's County.

Heather and Sarah were at the house when we arrived, and after kissing his Mom Tom picked Sarah up and swung her round, threw her back over his shoulder as she laughed and kicked her legs. Heather looked at me with a big smile, and I felt my shoulders relax. It had been a while since I had seen her, only Tom's reports keeping me in touch with my favorite aunt. She looked wonderful, toned and slim, ten years younger than her 38 years.

"The idea of marriage looks like it suits you, Heather," I said, as she put her arms around me and kissed me on the cheek. She kept me hugged tight inside her arms and I felt her breasts, larger than mine, pressing against me.

"Alison, I'm so glad you came. It would not have been the same without you, you know that."

I hugged her back. She was three or four inches shorter than me and the top of her head tucked comfortably against my neck. I wondered if Tom had told her about my lifestyle choice, wondered if she knew what holding a beautiful older woman was doing to me. Particularly as this beautiful older woman was one I had had an enormous crush on since puberty.

Finally she kissed me on the cheek again, then stepped back, her hands on my arms, and looked me up and down.

"I keep asking Tom what you look like now, and all he ever says is, Oh, OK I guess. You look stunning, Alison. Stunning."

I felt myself grin. "You look pretty good yourself, Heather."

"Come on, get a room," Tom said.

"They don't need a room, silly," Sarah said. "You're staying here, aren't you?"

Tom laughed and we both joined in. 

"Of course they are," Heather said.

"You can have my room, Al," Tom said, "I can bunk down on the sofa for tonight."

"I thought Alison might like to share with me," Heather said. "I'll need some female company tonight if I'm going to get through tomorrow. You did bring your suit, didn't you, Tom?" She directed the last at her son, who nodded.

I had taken him shopping earlier in the week, not altogether convinced he was capable of choosing something appropriate, and helped him pick a suit. Money wasn't an issue anymore. The expert work put in by Jack on getting us known was paying off, and last month our website had brought in a six figure income. Sandy and the rest of the team were practically running it now, Tom and I back to what we loved best, producing drawings.

Tom's suit had cost $900, Italian tailored, satin lined, and it fitted him perfectly. Just watching him walk around the store in it had made me wet between the legs. I don't think he knew quite what an effect he had on me. I hoped he didn't. 

I didn't want my crush on Tom to ruin our relationship. What was it with this family? Tom and his Mom, I wanted then both, badly. I was just relieved that after Saturday it would be only me and Tom. I knew how to handle him, keep him at a safe distance. I'd had enough practice since he moved in, and I was becoming expert at teasing him enough to get myself off without letting things go too far. But God, did I want them to go too far!

"And you know what you have to do tomorrow?" Heather asked Tom. I mentally shook myself, aware I had been going off on a little fantasy again.

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, Mom. I'm giving you away. I've boned up on what I've gotta do. Don't worry."

She went across to him and pulled herself in tight against his side, wrapped her arm around his waist, her head resting on his broad shoulder. She reached up on tiptoes and kissed his cheek, then turned his face and kissed him on the mouth.

Wow, I thought, get a room! Tom had told me he had a close relationship with his Mom, but this brief moment seemed far more intimate than that. Perhaps it was just the emotion of the coming wedding, the idea of a new family balance.

Sarah was moving backwards and forwards, going into the kitchen, back out, up two stairs, back down, coming to Tom and hugging his leg, coming to me and hugging me even though she hardly knew me.

Heather finally released Tom, and he said, "Look, Sarah's going to drive us all mad if we stay here. How about I take her out somewhere while you two get on with whatever mysterious things you need to do for tomorrow?"

"That would be wonderful, Tom. Are you sure you don't mind?"

"Spend some time with my favorite sister? Of course not."

"I'm your only sister, silly," Sarah said, and punched Tom on the leg.

"You're still my favorite though," Tom said.

"OK then."

"Let's have coffee first," Heather said. "You must be exhausted after the journey."

Tom laughed. "An hour in the air, an hour and a half in the car. It's the twenty-first century, Mom. New York's not that far away now."

"I guess it still is to me," she said. "It seems a long way when you're there."

Tom looked at her and smiled. "There's always a bit of me here, Mom, you know that." He touched her cheek, kissed the top of her head and we all went through to the kitchen while Heather made coffee for us, a milk shake for Sarah, and we sat around the table telling her the news that we could.

I was surprised at how comfortable I felt sitting in this kitchen that I had shared with them until I was twelve. Everything felt exactly as it should. This was more like home to me than anywhere I had lived since, until Tom and I had moved into the new apartment. And that was probably as much to do with Tom being there as with the location. I felt like I belonged here, in this house, with this family, and I told myself to get it together before I started blubbing.

Luckily Tom and his Mom were too engrossed in their conversation to notice me, and Sarah was playing with the Nintendo Tom had bought her for Christmas.

It was almost four by the time we got up from the table. Tom quizzed Sarah and discovered there was a new movie playing in town she wanted to see.

"How about we call up some of your friends, see if they want to come too?" Tom said.

Sarah clapped her hands, then looked at her Mom. "Is that alright, Mommy?"

"I'm not sure Tom's going to want to hang out with a bunch of screaming girls," Heather said.

"I'd love it," Tom said. "It'll give you and Al plenty of time to catch up and do your girl thing. I'll take them to Pizza Hut afterwards, save you cooking. It's gonna be the only chance I get to see Sarah before she goes to camp tomorrow."

I frowned. "You're going to camp tomorrow?" I asked Sarah.

"Yes," she said. "Me and Angie and Susie and Zoe. All my best friends. And we'll be sleeping in a log cabin and learning to canoe and light fires and cook and... oh... just so much stuff."

"But your Mom's getting married tomorrow," I said.

"I know that," Sarah said. Tom and Heather were watching us, amused, and I could see neither was going to help me out. 

"Mom's getting married at ten," Sarah said, in a voice that sounded like she was explaining to an idiot. "We're eating at the hotel, when all the people are coming. Your Dad, your step Mom, Mommy's friends, some of Tom's I think, oh, at least ten people I think. And then we're going to camp at six o'clock. Mommy says she's going to be on honeymoon then, so Tommy's going to take me to the bus and see me off." It was a long speech, and mostly pretty coherent, but my stomach dropped at the mention of my father.

I glanced across at Heather. "Dad's coming too?"

She nodded, sympathy showing on her face.

"I know you don't get along, Alison, but I couldn't not invite my only brother. And I've booked you and Tom into a different hotel tomorrow night. It's my thank you for coming and helping out."

"I thought we'd be coming back here, Mom," Tom said.

"Sunday you will. But I wanted to treat you for a night. It's a wonderful hotel, really over the top. I was going to save it as a surprise, but I guess I'm hopeless at keeping secrets."

I saw a strange look pass between mother and son, but had no idea what it was about.

Tom clapped his hands, breaking the mood. "OK. Sarah, get your shoes on. Call your friends and see if they want to see this movie. Make sure their parents know we'll be eating afterwards and not to expect them back until after eight. I expect they'll be glad of a rest as well. Mom, take Ali upstairs and do your thing. I'll see you both later." He kissed his Mom, came around and kissed me too, then hustled Sarah off.

Heather glanced across at me, then grinned. "Is he bullying me?"

I laughed. "I think he's excited. It's not every man gets to walk him Mom down the aisle."

"He's a good boy," Heather said.

"He's a man now," I said, and she nodded.

"I know. Such a good man..." She sighed deeply, pulled herself together. "Come on, bring your bag upstairs. I want to show you what I'm going to wear tomorrow, and I want you to help me choose what to take away. Then I want your advice on female grooming."

"Me?" I said. "There's got to be someone better than me for that!"

Heather looked at me, head cocked. "I can't think of anyone more beautiful than you, Alison. You'll do very nicely."

I felt myself start to blush, and picked up our coffee cups and stacked them in the sink.

Upstairs I dumped by suitcase at the bottom of the bed.

"You're OK sharing with me in here?" Heather asked casually.

"Sure. I think I know you well enough to share a bed with you, Heather." I tried to sound casual, but I was getting wetter at the thought of my sexy aunt sleeping next to me.

"Good. I wasn't sure. But it didn't seem fair to let Tom sleep on the sofa. And to be honest, I'm going to need some support tonight. I'm really nervous."

I gaped at her. "Why? You want to get married, don't you?"

"Of course. But it's a big step at my age, Alison."

"Jerry - that is his name, isn't it?" 

Heather nodded.

"He's a good man? Tom told me he was a good man."

"A very good man. But I've been on my own for so long now, and everything's going to be different."

"Are you going to live here?" I asked. I perched on the edge of her bed and she sat on the other side.

She shook her head. "This place is going up for sale next week. It's probably being listed right now. That's one reason I want Tom to stay until we get back from honeymoon. Are you OK staying here a week? Will you and Tom get on?"

"We can play house," I said, and felt a little shiver run through me.

"That'll be nice," Heather said. "Now, let me show you my dress. I didn't think white was appropriate, but I've got a wonderful cream dress. And I want to ask your advice, Alison."

"Anything I can help with. Shoot away."

Heather smiled. "Do you think hold up stockings and a garter belt would be too... slutty?"

I laughed. "Slutty? Who's going to know, anyway, apart from Jerry? And even if I don't know much about men, I do know they love a garter belt and stockings."

Heather giggled. "I thought that too, but I wasn't sure." She rolled across the bed and sat next to me, put her arm around me and pulled me against her. "I'm so glad you're here, Alison."

"Me too," I said.

"OK. So slutty it is. I'll dress up for you in a while to get your opinion."

"Dress away," I said.

"Now, let me show you what I've got and you can help me choose what to take away."

"You're going to the West Coast, did Tom say?"

"San Fransisco. I've always wanted to go. I'm not going to need anything for the beach." She grinned suddenly. "Maybe some tie dye and a Kaftan?"

It took us an hour to select Heather's honeymoon outfits and pack her suitcase. Her closet contained many nice things she had spent time collecting over the last months: silk underwear, sheer blouses, the robe Tom had given her and I had helped pick at Christmas. I knew Tom had been sending money to his Mom's account, and it looked like she had spent a lot of it on making herself look good.

When we finished we went downstairs and Heather uncorked - or rather, unscrewed - a nice Sauvignon and we took our glasses back upstairs.

"I want to show you my wedding outfit next. OK?"

"Sure," I said, sitting on her bed, stretching my legs out on the covers. I was starting to feel like the poor relation, dressed in an old tee shirt and blue jeans.

She opened a large wardrobe and took out a dress still wrapped in plastic. Opened some drawers and selected underwear and then jewelry from a box on the nightstand. She laid everything on the bed and then unbuttoned her blouse. I watched. She seemed completely natural undressing in front of me, chatting as she removed her blouse and then unzipping her skirt and laying it on the other side of the bed.

Her figure in bra and small panties was amazing, would have been amazing on someone half her age, stomach flat, legs slim and toned. Her breasts were at least a cup size larger than mine, and filled her blue bra. She reached behind and unclipped it, pulled it away and I saw the heavy globes sag a little, but they were still firm, the full underside curve hardly resting against her belly. They swayed as she leaned over and picked up the cream bra she would be wearing tomorrow. She drew it on slowly and I could have sworn she was teasing, but no way could she know how I felt about her.

"Do me up, Alison, would you?" she asked, turning her back to me.

"Sure," I said, then cleared my throat as my voice caught.

I rolled down the bed and pulled the bra strap tight and clipped it against her back.

Have you been working out, Heather? You're looking really good."

"Me?" she laughed. "Though I have been exercising for a while now, and cutting back on what I eat." She gave a little shimmy. "I'm glad if it shows."

"It shows," I said.

Heather tugged at the straps of her new bra, settling the weight of her breasts inside, tucking her hands in and making herself comfortable.

"OK?" she asked, turning back.

I studied her breasts, because she had obviously given me permission.

"The truth, Heather?"

She looked worried, replied. "The truth. Please."

"Stunning," I said.

"Really?"

"Really," I said. And it was true. The bra was cut low at the front, only just covering her nipples. It pushed her breasts up and together, forming a deep cleavage. The material was lacy and sheer and clearly showed the dark circles around her nipples, which were forming definite peaks pushing against the silk.

"I thought it looked good too, but it's great to have a second opinion."

She bent over and stripped off her old panties, turned back and picked up the new pair, pulled them up and settled them on her hips.

"Those are amazing as well," I said, watching how the matching material clung to her, holding the shape of her pussy, shadowed where her pubic hair lay beneath. The panties were so brief I could glimpse the plump edges of her outer labia, small curls of pubic hair peeking loose. They dipped at the front and the top of her bush showed above. The effect was incredibly sexy and just a little gross at the same time, but I said nothing.

Heather unrolled sheer stockings and pulled them on, drew them to her thighs then clipped the garter belt, twisted it around and tugged the straps down to her stockings.

She posed in front of me, turning and bending and I laughed and applauded.

"I don't think it matters where you go on this honeymoon, Heather," I said. "You're not going to leave the bedroom."

Her cheeks colored and she smiled. "I guess that's the idea, isn't it? Even at my age?"

"You're no age. You're in your prime, Heather. I hope I look half as good as you when I'm 38."

She looked at me. "You will, Alison. You're very beautiful."

"Aw," I shrugged the compliment off.

Heather slid her dress from its plastic covering and stepped into it, turned to let me zip her up.

She held her arms out and said, "Will I do?"

I nodded. "More than do. You're beautiful."

She smiled. "Thanks." Then she sighed and said, "Undo me again, Alison, I'd better get out of these things before they crease. They do make me feel sexy though."

I unzipped her dress, admiring the smooth skin of her shoulders and back.

"I'm going to take a nice long bath, Alison, and then I need some more help if you don't mind."

"Of course not."

She unclipped her stockings, removed them, the garter belt and her silk underwear and folded it all carefully until she was standing naked in the room at the bottom of the bed, still completely unselfconscious. I knew I was pretty easy about being naked, but I didn't think I was quite like this.

"Can you top my wine up, do you think?" she asked over her shoulder as she strode into the bathroom and started to run the taps.

I took our glasses downstairs and refilled them with ice cold wine, came back upstairs and took the glasses through to the bathroom. Heather was lying back in the water, stirring her hands gently around. Her breasts floated high and her nipples had peaked and pushed up through the water. I put the glass down on the side of the bath, and without thinking about it bent over and kissed her on the cheek.

She smiled at me and said, "Thanks. That was sweet."

I could feel myself trembling inside, as though an electric motor was running fast, and hoped Heather couldn't tell. I lowered the toilet seat and sat across from her and we talked as she washed. She topped up the hot water a couple of times, then after half an hour climbed out. She wrapped herself in an enormous blue towel and went across to the medicine cabinet.

"I wonder if you could help me out with this, Alison?" She turned back with strips of hair removal wax in her hand. Lots of strips.

"I need to do my legs and under my arms... and maybe elsewhere too. I haven't used this stuff for years. I tried yesterday and couldn't rip it off properly. It hurt like crazy!" And she laughed.

I laughed back. "Sure. I can't guarantee I'll be any gentler though."

"As long as it's not me doing it, I won't know what's coming. Thanks, Alison."

We went back through to the bedroom and Heather sat up on the bed, stretched her legs out and tugged the towel up to show her legs.

I pulled the backing off a strip and pushed it against her lower leg, smoothing it down hard, then without stopping ripped it away.

Heather hissed through her teeth, but the strip had left a beautifully clean length of leg.

"Painful?" I asked as I smoothed the strip back down.

"A bit, yeah. But not like when I did it," she said.

I ripped again, removing another long strip of leg hair. Heather hissed the same way, continued to do so as I worked on first her right leg and then her left.

When I was finished I ran my palm across her legs and nodded.

"Smooth as a baby's bottom," I said. "Have you got any lotion or something?"

"In the bathroom," she nodded.

I went through and found a large bottle of baby oil. I wasn't sure if it was quite the right stuff, but I knew it soothed me if I ever got a shaving rash so I took it back through, poured some of the clear liquid into my hands and spread it along her legs. Heather sighed and smiled, lifting her arms above her head so the big towel began to dislodge and come loose. She quickly dropped her hands and tucked it back in.

"That feels so good," she said.

"It's meant to."

She moved again, lifting her arms once more.




Ali's Art Ch. 10



"Can you do under here as well, Alison?"

"Of course. Anywhere you want, Heather."

She lifted an eyebrow, and my stomach gave a little flip because I thought I knew where this was going.

I pressed the wax strip up under her arm, pushing it hard so it stuck against every part of her skin, then ripped it hard away.

"Ow," Heather gasped.

"Oops."

She looked down at her smooth armpit. "Needs doing though. Keep going."

I finished one side, worked on the other, then massaged some oil into the smooth skin. When I was done, something came over me and I leaned down and kissed her once under her arm.

Heather turned and stared at me, our faces close.

I pulled a quick grimace. "Don't know what came over me then."

"It was sweet," she said, then, "Now, Alison, I need your advice again."

I sat back, glad the awkward moment had passed. "Fire away."

"Can I ask you, first, what you do down there?" she nodded at where the towel covered her.

I looked at her. I could pretend not to know what she meant, but that would be stupid.

"I like my pussy shaved," I said.

"You do? Completely?"

I nodded.

"I was thinking of doing something..." she said. "Do you think Jerry would like it?"

"Is he a man? Is he alive? Of course he'll like it."

"I wasn't sure how far to go. Just my labia? Trim the top, leave a strip, all the way? What do you think?"

I shrugged. "You know what I think, Heather. I go commando down there."

"What's it look like?" She asked.

Again, my autonomic system seemed to take over. I stood up, unzipped my jeans and pulled them down, pushed my panties down so they were around my ankles. 

"Have a look," I said, opening my legs slightly.

Heather looked, leaning forward to study me. She took a long time, then looked up at me.

"You have a very beautiful pussy, Alison. Very beautiful."

"Thanks."

"I think I want mine like that as well. Would you feel weird doing that to me?"

I looked back into her eyes. "Probably, a bit, yeah. You're more a Mom to me than anyone else has ever been. But if you want me to, I'd love to do it for you."

"I'd like you to," she said, and tugged at the towel so it came undone and she dropped it off the bed and wriggled down on her back completely naked. She lifted her knees and parted her legs. "Go to it," she said.

I laughed. "I think I might need some scissors first, or you're gonna jump out of your skin."

"Bathroom," she said.

I tugged my panties up but left my jeans on the bedroom floor, went through and found the scissors.

"You're sure you want it all off, Heather?"

She nodded, her head on a pillow. "All of it," she said.

I used the scissors to trim her pubic bush. Her hair was fine and sparse down there, and I took small tufts in my fingers, pulled it up and snipped close to her skin until all the long hair was gone. She lay still as I worked, silent.

I took a wax strip and glanced up at her and she nodded. I laid it between her legs, starting on the most sensitive area of her labia, pressed it against her, unable to avoid touching her with my fingers. I ripped and she jumped and hissed loudly.

"Keep going," she said. "Even if I scream, keep going."

I applied a strip to the other side, repeated the motion. Then I worked my way upwards, pulling away lines of short pubic hair. I worked gently around her clitoris, removing every last trace of hair.

Finally I sat back.

"All done," I said.

Heather was biting her bottom lip, her eyes screwed shut. She opened them and let her breath out.

"Painful?" I asked.

"Worse than the legs," she said. She sat up and looked down, her eyes widening. "Wow, that looks... weird. God, I hope Jerry likes it now."

"What's not to like?"

"Lotion," Heather said, lying back down.

I hesitated, then picked up the bottle and squirted some into my hand, reached down and applied the oil to her skin. I worked it in above her pussy, then along her thighs, finally adding more and working it into her labia. Heather closed her eyes again and smiled.

"That feels good," she murmured.

I continued, knowing I had applied all the soothing required, but continuing anyway. Finally I withdrew my hand and sat back on my heels, aware that I was wore only by tee and panties, and that Heather was lying completely naked in front of me, her pussy glistening with the oil I had just rubbed into it, maybe for another reason as well.

She looked at me, smiling, and stretched like a cat, pointing her toes and reaching up with her fingers.

"God, that was... I don't know... so indulgent. Thanks, Alison."

"It was a pleasure."

She looked directly at me, and I said nothing, then she said, "Tom told me you were a lesbian. I guess I've been teasing you a little, haven't I?"

"That's OK, Heather," I said, and added, "I enjoyed it." But I turned off the bed, found my jeans and pulled them back on.

I felt Heather move behind me, then her arms came around my waist and her naked breasts pressed against my tee. Her mouth close to my ear she whispered, "I promise I won't tease you again, Alison. That wasn't fair."

I half turned. "It really is OK," I said, "It was kinda fun for me. And just because I'm gay it doesn't mean I want to fuck every sexy naked lady I rub baby oil into."

Heather laughed, and the moment broke. She slid past me and went to her wardrobe and I watched the way her ass wiggled as she walked. She bent over and pulled out clean underwear, a big tee shirt and sweatpants and pulled them on.

"I guess we'd better get something to eat, and be downstairs when Tom gets back." The look in her eyes was odd, and I was having trouble working out what the subtext going on was.

Tom came in just after eight, a tired Sarah hanging on his shoulder.

Heather took her upstairs for a bath and Tom and I sat on the couch with a glass of wine each and listened to music. Heather had a small but good collection of CD's and Tom told me to choose. I scanned through the artists: Counting Crows, Train, Bruce Springsteen, Dylan old and new, some country but not much recent. I picked Time out of Mind and sat back next to Tom as the slow, jerky beat of the opening track started up.

I nudged Tom with my elbow and leaned against him.

"What?" he said.

"I want a hug," I replied.

He laughed softly and lifted his arm and I moved in under it, lifting my legs under me and he put his strong arm back around my shoulders and pulled me to him, kissing the top of my head.

"Did Sarah have a good time?" I asked.

"And some," he said. "Those girls are gonna be a handful on camp. I'm just glad it's not us having to look after them. How about you and Mom. Have a nice girlie time?"

I smiled, though he couldn't see, and said, "We had a great time. You know how I feel about your Mom."

"She loves you to bits as well, you know that. She loves you like you were her own daughter."

"I know," I said, feeling a little wave of sadness flow through me, wondering where that had come from. "How do you feel about tomorrow, Tom? About her getting married?"

"OK, I guess," he said, but there was some hesitation in his voice. Someone who didn't know him as well as I did would have missed it, but I knew Tom now, knew him inside out.

"But?" I probed.

"No, no buts. I'm really pleased for her. Jerry seems like a good guy. And it'll be great for Sarah to have a man around the house again."

"Big changes though," I said. "This house going up for sale as well."

Tom laughed. "You know the weird thing, Al? I think selling the house upsets me more than anything else. All my memories are here. Me and you, growing up, Mom and Dad, everything. It feels a wrench to lose that."

"It's only a place, Tom," I said. "The memories will still be there."

"I know. It's just, when I walk in, they come flooding back. I'm not sure how I feel about losing that sense of place."

"What about our sense of place, Tom?" I asked softly.

He hugged me tight again, and I felt his lips kiss my hair once more. "I love our place. And I love living with you, Al. It feels... right. Does it feel right to you too?"

I nodded against him. "Feels the most right thing in the world," I said softly.

"Good." He sighed heavily. "I guess I'm just being a big baby. I'll be fine. And at least I get this week to indulge in nostalgia. I get this week to play house with you, Al."

I laughed. "We play house all the time, Tom."

"I know we do. But it feels different doing it here. Takes me back, Al, to me and you, all those years ago, growing up together. Good times, Al. Good times."

I put my arm around his waist and hugged him. "They were, Tom. The best times."

We were still there half an hour later when Heather came down. She poured wine for herself and sat across from us.

"Hi kids," she said, lifting her glass. "It's lovely to see you both cuddled up like that."

Tom laughed softly. "Do you remember how me and Al used to do this, watching TV?"

"I remember it well," Heather said.

Tom disentangled himself and changed the CD, putting the Boss on, something more raucous.

"Turn it up a bit, Tom," Heather said. "Sarah's gone completely. Nothing's going to wake her tonight."

Tom raised the volume, and Heather got up and started to dance to the music. She grabbed Tom and stopped him sitting, made him dance with her. Heather moved well, and I was surprised to see Tom did too. He wasn't self-conscious, but swayed and moved in time to the music as his Mom shook her curls and worked up a sweat.

"Come on, Alison, you too," Heather said.

"I don't dance much," I said.

"Don't think about it," Heather said. "Come on, no excuses." She reached for me, grabbed my wrist and pulled me up and I had no choice but to go. I was stiff to begin with, and Heather held my hands and swayed and tried to show me how to move until I loosened up. I topped up my wine glass and drank it quickly, letting the alcohol remove my inhibitions and gradually got into it.

We danced, the three of us, moving around each other, through the entire album and then Heather changed the CD and put Lynyrd Skynyrd on and starting shaking around to that. As the solo in Free bird ripped through the living room all three of us stood side by side playing air guitar and shaking our heads.

By the time the music finished we were all sweating, and Heather grinned and turned the small music player off.

"That was great. I guess I can count this as my hen night, now. You two were so good. I love you both more than I can say."

She went to Tom and lifted on tiptoes and kissed him on the mouth. It was a long kiss, longer than I thought normal for a mother and son, but tonight it seemed the most natural thing in the world. Then she turned and came to me, didn't need to lift as her lips met mine.

"We need to be up early tomorrow," she said when she pulled away.

"What time do we need to leave here?" Tom asked.

"I'd like to be gone by eight. We can change at the hotel, but I'd like a couple of hours before the service."

"OK. I'll set my alarm," Tom said.

"I'll wake you," Heather said, and laughed.

She kissed Tom again as he passed her. After he was gone we tidied the living room, washed and dried our glasses and went up after him.

I used the bathroom first, brushed my teeth and washed my face. I always slept naked, and had not thought to bring any nightclothes, so came out in bra and panties and stood beside the bed, puzzling.

"Which is your side, Heather?" I asked, and she laughed.

"The right," she said.

"I'll take this side, then," I said, and slipped under the covers.

Heather went into the bathroom, leaving the door open. I heard her brush her teeth, the water run, then she peed and when she came back she was naked when she slipped between the sheets.

She rolled onto her side to look at me. "Goodnight, Alison."

"Night Heather," I said.

She rolled closer, kissed me, on the mouth again, longer than might be usual, then she rolled back, sighed deeply and turned off the lamp.

I lay on my back, looking up at the ceiling where the street lights shimmered as their illumination filtered through the tree in the front yard.

Time passed. I heard Heather roll over and sigh again.

More time passed and she rolled again, once more the big sigh, and she said, "Are you awake, Alison?"

I nodded in the dark, then said, "Yeah."

"I don't think I'm going to sleep tonight," she said.

"Why on earth not?" I said, and she burst out laughing and I felt her fist punch me lightly on my shoulder.

We were quiet for a whole longer, then she said, "How do you and Tom get on in New York, Alison?"

"Great," I said. "We're like best friends. The best friends."

"Sometimes," she said softly, "I like to think of you both being my kids. When you went away it broke my heart."

"I didn't know that," I said.

Heather breathed deeply. "I'd never have let you know, of course. But it was like someone had taken my own daughter away from me."

"Oh Heather," I said, and felt emotion catch in my throat. I rolled over and put my arms out and she rolled and did the same and we hugged each other tightly. I could feel her shaking against me, hear quiet sobs as she fought to control her crying. I could also feel her heavy breasts pressing against mine still encased in my bra.

"I felt like I'd lost my Mom," I said to her, stroking her hair. "I hardly knew my Dad. And he was always working. I hated him so much because he'd taken me away from you."

"Is that why you still hate him?" Heather said.

I nodded. "I've never forgiven him. And he just doesn't seem to care about me."

Heather sniffed, and I think she had stopped crying. "Alison, do something for me. Tomorrow, try and make it up with your Dad. I know he loves you even if he can't say it."

I laughed briefly, scornfully.

"No - he really does. I know he does. But he's a man, his way of showing it is to make money so he can buy you things. Men are emotional cripples. Once you accept that, they're easy to get along with."

"Tom's not like that," I said.

I felt Heather go still in my arms. "No," she said. "Tom isn't like that."

We lay comfortable in each other's arms for a while, then Heather said. "I still can't sleep."

"Roll over," I said, "On your front. I'll give you a massage, it'll relax you."

Heather made no protest, pulled out of my arms and lay face down. I sat up and threw the covers back, reached over and turned on the small beside light and studied her sexy back and butt and legs. Then I knelt beside her and put my hands on her shoulders and dug with my fingers, feeling tension in her muscles.

"Mm, that feels good," she mumbled.

"It's meant to," I said.

"Better already," she said.

I worked her shoulders, then moved down along her spine. There was a deep valley running down her back, fading only at her waist, and then replaced by the cleft of her ass. She was incredibly sexy, and I was starting to feel wet between my legs. I tried hard to push the thoughts away.

Heather wriggled a little as I reached her waist and started to work my way up.

"Carry on down. Feels good," she said.

I changed direction, reached her butt and massaged the full cheeks of her ass. Then down to her thighs, the back of her knees, her calves and feet. I began to work my way back up and as I moved above her knees she moved again, parting her legs. I could see the slit of her pussy clearly, her ass opening to show her sweet pink asshole.

I massaged my hands along her inner thigh, moving higher, mesmerized by her, wondering what I would do when I reached the top of her legs.

Heather made the decision for me. Her hand reached out, found my leg and I felt it slide up along my thigh and lightly touch me between my legs.

She lifted and turned slightly. "Why have you got your underwear on, Alison?" She asked.

I shrugged. "I just thought..."

"Take 'em off, sweetheart."

I unclipped my bra and tossed it aside, wriggled my panties down and they followed. I returned my hands to Heather's thighs, moved them upwards. Her hand came back to my leg, slid up and brushed my pussy, hesitated then touched me again. I felt her fingers run along my slit, moving along it and back.

I lifted my hand and placed it on her pussy and she lifted slightly to offer me better access.

Her fingers touched me again, probing slightly.

Heather turned her head to look at me in the soft light. "Is this alright, Alison?"

I looked back at her and nodded. "If this is what you want," I said.

"It's what I want. But..."

"What?"

"I've never been with another woman... you'll help me, won't you?"

I smiled. "Of course I will. But why now?"

"Because it's you. I've watched you grow from a pretty girl into a beautiful woman. Because I'm a bit fucked up and want to know what it's like to make love to you. Does that make me wicked?"

"I hope so," I said, my fingers touching her body shamelessly.

"Would you kiss me?" she said, and I bent over and touched her mouth with mine and she opened her lips and I flicked my tongue in and played it against hers.

I felt her giggle against me and pulled back.

"What? Changed your mind?" I felt suddenly bad.

"No," she shook her head. "It's just... who does what to who? I'm not used to being in charge. Are you usually dominant or not, Alison?"

I knew the answer to that. "I can be," I said. "But my nature is to be the passive partner. What is it you want tonight?"

"I don't know. I want to make love with you. If I'm not too old and disgusting for you."

"Oh God, no way!" I said, and kissed her again, harder, pushing so she rolled onto her back. I straddled her, pressing my soaking pussy against her belly. Then I moved down and drew her nipples into my mouth, sucking them hard, knowing exactly how hard to suck and she arched her back and hissed through her teeth.

I slid down, kissing her belly, reached her navel and licked it, then on down until I reached my target. I put my hands under her legs and lifted them, opening her pussy to my mouth and pushed my tongue directly inside her.

"Oh wow," she moaned.

I lifted up a little. "Like that?"

"Fuck yeah."

I kissed her clitoris. "Anyone ever done that to you before?"

"Not another woman," and she laughed.

I returned my mouth to the sweetness of her pussy, pushed my tongue hard inside and worked her steadily. After a while she found a rhythm and began to push back against my mouth. I inserted one finger, then two inside her, probing deeply, sucked her clitoris into my mouth, nipping it lightly between my teeth.

Heather rode against my mouth, almost oblivious, needing release, and I used every technique I knew to bring it to her. She moaned, jerked, and started to shake and I buried my face into her. I felt a brief gush against my mouth as she came, tasted more sweetness on my tongue as she bucked and heaved beneath me. I kept my fingers and tongue working as the climax washed through her, kept my mouth against her as she stilled, then slid up and kissed her belly, her breasts, her mouth.

She circled her arms around me and kissed me back.

"Better?" I said.

"Oh God, so much better..."

I smiled and snuggled in against her, lightly tracing my fingers over her belly, up onto her breasts.

After a while she turned onto her side. "I want to do that to you, Alison. Can I?"

"Hmm," I said, pretending to think about it, and she slapped me on my belly.

She rolled away and got up, padded across to the door and turned the lock. She looked back at me and grinned. "Just in case Tom decides to wander," she said. Then she went to the wardrobe, opened it and reached high up to the top shelf. I saw her hand fumbling around, then find what she wanted and when she turned back she had a double ended dildo in her hand. She gripped one end and waggled it as came back to the bed.




Ali's Art Ch. 10



"You told me you hadn't done this before," I said.

"I haven't."

"So why double ended?"

She looked at the dildo, realistic and flesh colored, about seven inches long either side, and laughed.

"Well - I started with a normal dildo. After I lost Dave, I needed something. But there never seemed enough to hold onto when I was using it, so I bought this instead. See?"

She lay on her back and opened her legs, inserted one end of the dildo into her pussy and pushed. Her hand gripped the other side and she stroked it in and out. Then she pulled it out and wiped the end that had been inside her on the sheets.

"Gives me a handle. Do you want to try?"

"Heather..." I started. "I've never used one before."

"You haven't?"

I shook my head. "It's one of the things about being a lesbian. I like girls. I like pussy, boobs, girls asses and legs and mouths. But girls don't have one of those."

She looked at me, her face crestfallen, and I rolled over and kissed her.

"It's OK, Heather..."

"I didn't think."

"No - it really is OK!"

I rolled away, lay on my back, pulled her over onto me.

"Fuck me, Heather," I said.

She looked at me, the uncertainty only slowly fading.

"I want to go down on you, Alison. Is that allowed?"

I grinned. "It's more than allowed. Amongst us lesbians its considered the polite thing to do."

She smiled back, bent her head and kissed me. I opened my mouth and let her tongue invade mine. Our mouths worked together, saliva passing between us, and I lifted my hands and felt the heavy weight of her breasts. I could hold one breast in both hands, amazed at their firmness and weight. It pulled away as she moved down me, kissing my breasts. I arched my back to lift them against her mouth, moaned as she bit lightly on my nipples and stroked my belly with her hand.

Her fingers slid down and found my pussy, probed and slid inside.

"You're very wet," she said quietly.

"Too right," I grunted.

"Tell me if I'm not doing things right," she said.

"You've had guys go down on you?" I asked.

"Sure."

"Just do what they do," I said.

"Shit. Are you sure about that? Most of them were never much good."

I laughed.

"Then do what you'd like done to you," I said.

She grinned lewdly. "Oh, in that case," and slid down until she was lying between my legs. I lifted one and laid it on her shoulder. I could feel her breath hot against my pussy, her finger still probing me. Then her tongue touched me. Her lips kissed me like my pussy was my mouth, and her tongue probed inside and I pushed back. She pushed harder with her tongue, extending it deep inside.

After a while she lifted back, lightly kissed my clitoris, and said, "How'm I doing?"

"You sure you've never done this before?"

She grinned. "Thought about it though."

"Yeah?"

She nodded. "Yeah. And you taste even better than I imagined."

I looked around, found the dildo and picked it up.

"Turn around," I said. "Put your legs up here by me."

Heather looked at me and then followed my instructions. She looked at me for further guidance and I thought about it.

I grabbed her leg and tugged. "Sit across me. You can reach my pussy like that, and I can use this on you."

She straddled me, her pussy just below my chin, her ass parted just above me. I felt her lower her face and her mouth met my pussy again and her sweet tongue invaded me. I knew I wasn't going to last long before I came, so I took the dildo and inserted it into her pussy. She widened her legs and I pushed, watching it slide in, and I had to admit it looked sexy filling her like that.

Gripping the other end, I began to work it in and out and Heather rocked her hips against it.

Her mouth was working hard on me, and she added a third finger, pushing hard into me. My thighs rested against her hair and it tickled my skin as she moved her face against me.

Her open ass was sitting there above me, tempting me, and I lifted my head and let my tongue flick out, lightly touching her pink opening. I flicked once and waited, waiting for a reaction, but she just kept going so I lifted again and flicked once more, letting my tongue rest this time directly on her asshole.

I heard her grunt, not sure if it was good or bad, but stayed where I was, pushing with my tongue and feeling the tight opening give.

Heather lifted her face from my pussy and said, "Oh God, are you sure you want to do that?"

I nodded, my face against her ass cheeks.

"Say if you want me to stop."

"No. It feels so good."

I stiffened my tongue and pushed and she dropped her tongue to my pussy and did the same.

I remembered to keep working the dildo deep into her pussy, worked my tongue into her ass and after a while added a finger, turning and pushing until it was buried to the top joint and she pushed back against me as if she wanted more.

I was beyond control now, working her hard, using the dildo, my finger and my tongue on her ass, humping myself up against her mouth and feeling the ache build.

Heather reached underneath me with her hand and probed, found my asshhole and pushed her finger against it. I widened my legs, wanting her finger, and she pushed again and slid inside. I ground against her face, my climax building and then tipping over. Tidal waves pulsed through me, pinpointing inside my pussy and moving out, a second pinpoint in my ass where Heather's finger probed, a deeper one in my solar plexus, racing through me, filling me, soaring out to the tips of my fingers and toes, pulse after pulse and I shook and jerked beneath her and she knew what to do and extended my climax until I was spent and wasted and she rolled off me, the dildo still inside her, twisted round and came up and kissed me, her mouth sweet with the taste of my pussy. 

"Fuck," I said, and she kissed me again. "Did you cum?"

She nodded. "Twice."

"I didn't notice."

"Can't think why not," she said, snuggling against me, putting her head on my chest and listening to my thudding heart. Her fingers stroked my breasts, my belly, my thighs.

After a while, I said, "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, sweetheart."

"Something very personal?"

She lifted her head and looked at me. "After this? Sure."

"Have you ever had anal sex?"

She stared at me for a moment, then burst out laughing. "That wasn't what I was expecting."

"Oh." Although I had no idea what question she thought was coming.

Slowly her amusement faded, and she said, "Yes, I have."

"Had anal?"

She nodded.

"And did you, you know, like it?"

She nodded again. "I do."

"A lot?"

She shrugged. "Sometimes. Not all the time, but sometimes it feels right, and sometimes nothing else will do. I've not done it that much. Probably not as much as I'd like to. But Dave used to fuck me in my ass if I asked him."

"Did he like doing it?"

"I got the impression he did it because I wanted it, not because he did, but he used to cum in my ass so he must have enjoyed it."

"Hm," I said.

Heather continued to look at me. "Why all these questions about anal sex, Alison? If lesbians aren't into cock, they surely aren't into cock up their ass?"

I glanced away, then back. I'd come this far, I couldn't, didn't want to, stop now.

"It's just, I know I'm gay, and I like girls, but I love having my ass played with. And I've always had this fantasy about being fucked in the ass." I shrugged. "Hey, weird, or what?"

Heather kissed me softly. "We can't control our fantasies. You ever thought about trying it?"

"Oh yeah, I got loads of guys in my circle of friends."

"You've got Tom," she said.

"Your son, Tom? My cousin?"

"That's the one. I just kind of assumed you and he were screwing."

"Even though he's my cousin and I'm gay."

Heather shrugged. She continued stroking my belly, moved her hand up to explore my breasts, lightly pulled my nipples.

"So you're not fucking Tom?" she said.

"You sound disappointed." 

"He's good looking, isn't he? I know I'm his Mom, and I'm probably biased, but he is good looking?"

I nodded. "Oh yeah. He's very good looking. And you know the great thing? He honestly doesn't know it."

Heather laughed softly. "He used to be kind of weedy. But he's muscled up lately. Maybe that's why. So you think he's, you know, OK?"

If only you knew, I thought, the notions that rolled through my head about Tom. I had never looked at a man before, but Tom wasn't like other men. True, he was handsome and didn't know it, he was sexy and didn't know it, but it was more than that, there was something deep in my soul that connected to him. I had never wanted a man, ever... but I wanted Tom.

As we carried on with this weird conversation about whether I was fucking her son, my cousin, Heather had started to drift her fingers over my pussy.

"Yeah, he's OK," I said. "For a man, anyway. Did you think we were doing it, then?"

She shrugged. "I suppose I did."

"And you didn't mind? Despite the fact we're first cousins? Despite the fact I think of him more as a brother than a cousin?"

Heather laughed softly again. "And I'm your aunt, and you've just had your tongue in my ass."

I laughed back. "Touche."

"No, honey. Touch. I want to touch you in places that shouldn't be allowed. Did you really mean it about your ass?"

I nodded. "Is it too awful, wanting that?"

Heather shook her head. "I told you. I've done anal, and I enjoyed it. I'd like to be fucked in the ass more, given the chance."

"Maybe Jerry will do it for you," I said.

Heather laughed, a girlish giggle. "No, not Jerry, I don't think so. But forget about men. Roll over a bit, let me see what I can do for you."

I looked at her for a long moment, then rolled over, still half on my side, and lifted my left leg, opening myself for her.

I could feel her moving around, then something cold drip onto my ass. I turned to look and saw she had picked up the baby oil that had been left on the nightstand and was dripping it directly onto my ass. Then she let some fill her palm and spread it over one end of the dildo. She lowered the dildo and rested it lightly along the crack of my ass.

"How would you feel about it, if Tom and I were screwing?" I asked.

She shrugged and her breasts jiggled and swayed. "It's fine by me. How do you feel about me trying to stick this dildo up your ass?"

I looked at her, and felt my stomach turn over, and knew I wanted it very much indeed. I nodded.

"Tell me if it's too much or it hurts and I'll stop."

I nodded again.

She lowered her other hand and spread the slick baby oil over me, rested her fingertip on my asshole and pushed. It slid inside easily and she pushed its full length in, withdrew, pushed again, this time adding a second finger. It was tighter now, but she added more oil and continued to work them in and out. Finally, she removed her fingers and rested the head of the dildo on my asshole. I lifted a little, opening myself to her, and she pushed gently. I felt it expand my tight hole, felt resistance and a little pain as it enlarged me.

Heather pressed very slowly, gently, allowing me to get used to the first half inch. She dripped a little more oil, then pushed again and suddenly the end was inside and was sliding more freely and she pushed very slowly until the whole six inches was inside. I grunted and Heather leaned over and said, "OK?"

I nodded. "Wonderful."

"Feels good, yeah?"

"I feel all filled. I feel so dirty, and so turned on."

She kissed my shoulder. I was lying half on my side, my legs split, and if I turned hard around I could just see the other end of the dildo sticking up from my ass, swaying as I moved. It did feel wonderful. It was my fantasy come alive. The dildo opened my rear passage, I felt it heavy inside my ass, felt myself stretched and filled at the same time. It was more than I had dreamed, and I felt myself trembling, on the cusp on cumming.

Heather kissed my back and said, "I'm going to fuck your ass now."

I just nodded again, tried to watch as she straddled me and guided the other end of the dildo into her pussy. It opened her, filled her and slid inside and she sank onto it, the pressure filling my ass as her thighs touched my leg. As she lowered herself the pressure drove the dildo all the way inside my ass. It felt strange, not something I had ever experienced, and not what I had imagined, but so exciting, so hot.

Heather started to pulse slowly, each move pushing the dildo into my ass, drawing out as she moved back.

"Oh God," she said, "This feels so dirty... and so fucking good..."

"Fuck my ass," I said, shaking my head, lost in the sensation of the dildo filling me. I could feel another orgasm start to build and knew I was going to cum soon.

"Fuck yeah," she hissed, and speeded up. Half turning, half looking, I watched her big breasts tumble and shake, watched her head go back, watched her hips pumping against me and my pleasure built and peaked and I bit down on the pillow and felt myself squirt on the sheets, but Heather hadn't finished and continued to fuck me, taking her own pleasure, and before I sank back down another climax started up and within a minute I was bucking and shaking beneath her again and this time she joined me, jerking, ramming herself hard down on the dildo, driving it into me and herself as she came.

She collapsed on top of me, boneless, and kissed my shoulder. We remained joined, the dildo inside me and inside her.

Slowly, minutes later, she pulled away, and then very gently eased the dildo from my ass, tossed it aside after checking it was clean.

She rolled me over and lay facing me, our breasts touching. She kissed me and said, "So, good or not?"

"Good." I said.

"As good as you thought?"

"Better," I said.

She grinned. "I'm glad I'm not the only anal slut in the family then." She looked over my shoulder. "Now. It's after 1 in the morning, and I'm getting married in nine hours." She giggled.

"Can you sleep now?" I asked.

She nodded. "Oh, I think so."

We kissed again, a long deep kiss, and as soon as I rolled over darkness washed through me.

In the morning I was woken by the sound of Heather showering. I lay for a whole, enjoying the languor in my body, feeling the slight soreness in my ass, but enjoying that too.

Heather came back, drying her hair in a towel, still naked, and said, "Shower's yours if you want. I'll go make sure Tom's awake."

I rolled out of bed. "Like that?"

She looked down at herself and grinned. "I guess that'd wake him up, yeah?"

"Oh yeah, almost certainly."

We didn't make it for eight, but by ten past Tom drove us in the rental car through town and out into the country. At eight thirty we pulled up at the hotel where the wedding was taking place and carried our covered suits and dresses inside.

There were two rooms reserved for us to change in and use before the service, and some of the guests would be staying over afterwards.

As we went in, Heather took my arm and held me back as Tom and Sarah went on.

"Alison. Could you look after Sarah for a minute? I want to talk to Tom before the service. Can you do that for me?"

"Of course I can," I said, comfortable with this woman. I had imagined today might have been difficult, but Heather was so relaxed everything felt completely normal.

"You're an angel," she said, glanced around quickly, saw we were alone and kissed me deeply on the mouth before running to catch up with her kids.



Ali's Art Ch. 11



Mom stayed back, talking with Ali as Sarah and I walked through and around a half turn to the reception desk. 

She ran to catch up with us, her face glowing and it was great to see how excited she was, and how well she and Ali were getting on. It had been a while since they had seen each other and I had been uneasy because they were the two people I loved most in the world and I wanted them to get along. I hadn't been sure if Mom might be jealous of Ali, with the closeness of our life in New York. However this morning they were getting on together the best I had ever seen them.

"Alison's going to look after Sarah and get her ready, Tom. I want you to come with me. I need you to do something for me before the service." Mom slipped her arm through mine.

"Sure," I said, only a little confused. Mom was even brighter than normal this morning, happier than I had expected, and I was pleased for her. The wedding obviously meant a great deal to her.

Mom retrieved two room keys, handed one to Ali and led the way to her room. It was a small suite, smart and elegant, and Mom hung her wedding suit on a rack by the door and twirled around.

"Look at this place, Tom. I don't think I've ever been anywhere as smart as this before."

I laughed, enjoying her good mood. "Get used to it, Mom. Jerry's a great guy. He'll take you somewhere like this again. I bet he's already booked somewhere nicer for the honeymoon."

Mom grinned. "Yeah, you're probably right. Tom, help me unzip, will you?"

"Uh, yeah, sure."

She turned her back to me and I closed the space between us. She stood with her hands at her side, totally passive, and I came up close behind her but instead of lowering her zip put my arms around her and hugged her. I kissed her neck, just below her ear, in that place I had discovered last Christmas. I half expected her to stiffen and pull away, but the opposite happened and she softened in my arms and slumped against me.

"Did you want to talk to me, Mom?" I asked softly, knowing what she wanted to say, knowing and not wanting to hear it, but knowing I needed to hear it.

She nodded her head against my chest.

I waited.

"Tom, what happened at Christmas..."

I squeezed her tighter, waiting for her to say 'must never happen again.'

She put her hands over mine. "What happened was wonderful... wonderful... and I don't want you to think..." She stopped, her voice starting to break up.

"It's OK, Mom," I said. "Say it. You have to say it, I know that."

"Oh Tom," she turned inside my arms, put her hands up to my face and pulled me down to kiss.

"I love you Mom, you know that. It's OK."

She sniffed and wiped her hand across her eyes. "This is silly. I'll just say what I want to say." She took a deep breath, the movement pressing her breasts deliciously against my chest. "Tom, what happened was absolutely wonderful, and I've never felt anything like that in my life, and I just want you to know that because in a couple of hours I'm going to be a married woman... well... it doesn't have to stop. Tom, how would you feel about fucking an older married woman when she feels horny?"

I felt my jaw drop. That had not been what I was expecting.

She looked up at me, her palm flat on my cheek, and gave a small laugh.

"What did you think I was going to say, Tom? I didn't want to feel that again? Do you think I'm completely stupid?"

"Mom," I said, and I could feel my own eyes welling up now.

"Come on, Tom," she said. "I don't know when we might get the opportunity in the future, but if it comes up, I want you to know I'm going to want you to fuck my brains out every chance you get. Understand?"

I nodded. "I do understand, Mom. But what if Jerry turns out to be some hung stud? You could change your mind."

She laughed. "Do you think we haven't tried each other out already? I know what to expect. Your reputation as the stud in the family is still secure, Tom."

I kissed her nose and she wriggled around in my arms again and stepped away, one pace. "I'm sure I asked you to unzip me, Tom. Come on, do as Mommy asks."

I smiled and pulled her zip down, slid my hands inside the gape of her dress, slid them around and cupped her full breasts in my palms, my thumbs seeking the hardening nubs of her nipples. She wriggled her ass against me, feeling the start of my erection.

She shucked her shoulders and her dress slid away and pooled around her feet. She bent over, deliberately pushing her ass back onto me, picked up the dress and draped it on the foot of the bed. She reached around and flicked her bra strap, her meaning obvious and I fumbled and on the third try managed to unclip it. She drew it away and my hands went around again, finding her bare nipples, harder, sensitive.

"Anything else?" I said into her ear, drawing her hair back and kissing her again on the neck where I knew she liked it.

"Take my panties off too, will you?"

I knelt down, slipped my fingers into the tight waist and tugged them down, kissing her round ass as it came into view, kissing all down the back of her thighs as I slid her panties down and she lifted her feet to step out of them.

I stood again, put my arms back around her.

"Anything else, Mom?"

She nodded. "I need you one last time, Tom. Will you fuck me, please?"

"Are you sure that's what you want?"

She turned inside my arms, her breasts pressing against me. "Oh yes, very sure." She started to undo the buttons of my shirt, worked them all loose and pushed it back off me. I let it drop where it fell. Then she unbuckled my belt, drew down the zip on my jeans and tugged them off as well, pulling my shorts with them so my cock, already stiffening, popped out and bobbed between us.

Mom went onto her knees, fumbling to get my jeans off my ankles, then took my cock in her hand and guided me to her mouth. I groaned as her soft lips closed around me, groaned again as she drew me deep inside her warm, wet mouth. She worked on me, expertly, using her tongue and her teeth and her lips, and then, sensing I was close to the point of no return drew back and stood.

She took my hand and led me to the bed. "Come and fuck me, Tom, one last time. I want you inside me. I want you inside me when you cum."

"Mom?" I asked, unsure.

"I'm almost a married woman, Tom. Do you think I haven't taken precautions already? I want you to cum inside me, for the first time, maybe the last, just once cum inside me, Tom."

"Mom," I said again, but this time it wasn't a question.

She sprawled back on the bed, her legs parted, and I stopped for a moment as I saw her displayed.

"When did you shave your pussy like that, Mom?"

She looked down at herself and grinned. "You like?"

"I love." I knelt and slid my tongue over the smooth skin, slipped it between the slit of her pussy and tasted how utterly wet she was.

"Alison helped me wax all over last night. Do you know she's completely shaved down there as well?"

I was lucky Mom couldn't see my face.

"No, really?" I lifted away from her pussy and looked up at her. The expression on her face made out she didn't believe my reply.

Mom put her hand on the top of my head and pushed me back down, demanding my tongue on her pussy.

I knelt on the floor and tugged her legs so her pussy came onto my mouth and I tasted again her sweetness, her wetness, and pushed my tongue deep inside her oiled inner folds. She gripped my hair tight in her fingers, bucked against my mouth then tugged hard and pulled me away.

"Your cock, Tom. Put your cock inside me. Fuck me hard and fast, baby."

She tugged again, pulling me up, and I lay across her, held myself and guided my cock to where she wanted it. Her pussy parted around my engorged head and she moaned as she felt me open her, then she gripped my hips and pulled me hard into her. I sank inside, deep into her and she cried out once and rocked her hips against me.

"Fuck me, Tom, fuck me like never before."

I gripped her wrists, lifted her arms above her head, held them there, put my mouth onto hers and kissed her hard. I drove into her, driving my cock hard and deep and she lifted her legs and wrapped them around my waist.

"Don't hold back, Tom, do it quick," she hissed, and I felt her buck underneath me and her eyes closed as a climax rolled through her.

I held her hands above her head with one of mine, rolled her breasts hard in my other hand, pumped rapidly against her, my cock starting to ache.

"Yes, Tommy, fill me with your cum," she yelled and I increased my pace, letting myself go, letting my excitement peak and threw my own head back as my balls exploded and I felt myself shoot inside her, shoot deep inside, filling her with my semen.

"Oh Tom, yes, yes, like that." She pulled her hands free, dug her fingers into my shoulders, shaking underneath me, cumming hard again.

I emptied myself inside her, feeling one long stream pouring from me, filling her, and she bit my shoulder, scratched my back, clung hard to me.

We lay together on top of the covers as our bodies cooled, Mom tucked in under my arm, her hand on my chest. She looked at the big TV at the bottom of the bed and said, "Do you think they do porn in this hotel?"

I slapped her lightly on the butt. "You're almost a married woman," I said. "Behave yourself."

She pouted. "Not fair."

"Besides, you don't need porn. Not looking like you do now. I love your pussy like that."

"I hope Jerry does."

"He will."

Mom rolled over so she was resting on top of me, kissed my chin.

"Tom?"

"Mm-hm?"

She wriggled her hips against me, glanced at the clock. It read nine-twenty. Forty minutes from now Mom would be getting married.

"Do you think you could manage again?"

"You're a fucking demon!" I said, slapping her hard on the ass.

"Oh yeah, baby, slap Mommy's ass like that."

I slapped her again, but not as hard.

"OK. Enough of the S&M. Turn me over and fuck me again, Tom."

I grabbed her waist and lifted her easily off me, set her down on the bed and tugged her hips up, rolled around between her thighs. My cock was half hard again already, and without waiting I gripped it and forced myself inside her from behind. As I plunged into her and started a rhythm I felt myself grow and stiffen, and she felt it too and put her head down and moaned.

I mode no effort to hold back, but it took me longer to cum the second time, and by the time I was emptying myself inside her again Mom was slicked with sweat and had achieved climax twice more, shuddering underneath me as I emptied deep inside her. She collapsed onto her belly and I lay on top, taking my weight on my elbows, and felt her softly wriggle her butt against me.

"This is way too wicked to continue, and way to nice to stop, Tom. Always fuck me like this, promise?"

"Promise," I said, kissing her salty back.

She lifted up and glanced at the clock, pushed me away.

"I'm gonna be late, Tom, and I need another shower now. Get changed while I clean up."

She ran into the bathroom and I rolled off the bed. I was sweaty too, but knew if I went and joined her in the shower she would definitely miss her own wedding. Instead I wiped myself down with a spare towel and pulled on my wedding clothes.

Mom came out after a couple of minutes, drying herself quickly. She unwrapped her special underwear and started to pull it on, and I lay on the bed in my smart suit pants and white shirt and watched as she pulled on the dark cream panties and tugged them snuggly up. I was sure she was displaying for me, so I relaxed and enjoyed the show. She clipped her garter belt around her waist then bent and rolled her cream stockings up her legs. She stood half facing me, her breasts swinging loose as she bent over. She tugged the stockings taut and clipped them to the garter belt, smoothed her hands down her thighs and nodded, satisfied. Only then did she settle her breasts into the matching bra and clip it up. She tugged at the straps, put her hands down inside and settled herself comfortably.

"I hope I haven't work you out too much," I said, "Because Jerry is going to fuck your brains out tonight."

Mom grinned at me. "Oh, I do hope so. Not jealous then?"

I shook my head, and realized I wasn't.

Mom slid the cellophane wrapper off her dress and stepped into it, pulled it up and turned her back to me.

"Zip me up, Tom?"

"Haven't we already been here?" I said, rolling off the bed.

"This time you've got to behave yourself." She said. I glanced at the clock and saw we had five minutes.

I drew her zip up, closed the small catch behind her neck. Mom stepped away, turned.

"Will I do?"

I studied her. She was stunning. The cream dress stopped just level with her knees. The matching stockings showed her legs off to perfection. And I knew everything that lay beneath.

"You look completely wonderful," I said. I wanted to hug her and kiss her, but didn't dare. She had put on her makeup, applied bright red lipstick to her full lips, and I didn't dare risk messing it up.

Instead I picked up my dark red tie and tied it, pulled on my suit jacket and displayed for her.

"Me too?" I asked.

She nodded. "Oh yes, most definitely. She nipped her bottom lip with her top teeth. "Shame we haven't got another hour to spare."

I rolled my eyes, offered my arm. "Come on then, let's get this thing done."

She nodded back and took my arm and I walked with her down the corridor, into the large ballroom where the guests were waiting on chairs. Ali and Sarah were waiting at the front, maids of honor, both dressed in identical dresses, slightly darker cream than Mom's, cut slightly higher on the leg. Jerry was waiting, looking nervous, and I walked Mom down the aisle between the chairs, whispered good luck, shook Jerry's hand and took my seat.

The service seemed over almost before it started, and I was surprised to find it was a quarter of eleven as we made our way out and into the bar. Mom had been relaxed throughout, and I wondered how much of that was because of what had occurred between us just before the service. Jerry had been a bag of nerves, although it was not his first wedding either. He was ten years Mom's senior, a teacher in the High School where Mom worked as a lab technician. His wife had died of cancer six years earlier. Mom and Jerry had always known each other, but I have no idea what sparked the romance that led to their marriage. Maybe, as Mom said, he was a good man, and would be a good Dad for Sarah. I hoped there was more to it than that - that maybe love came into it somewhere.

I grabbed a glass of coke, though most everyone else was drinking champagne, wine or beer. I needed to drive Sarah later and never touched alcohol if I was driving - even more so with a precious cargo like my little sister. Ali nursed a glass of white wine, and I saw her talking to her Dad. I was surprised, because she always told me how much she hated him, but today they seemed to be getting on just fine.

I moved through the room, found Mom and Jerry and shook his hand, told him to look after her and smiled inwardly because it felt like I was acting like Mom's Dad rather than her son. I kissed Mom on the cheek and moved on, spoke with people I knew, spoke with people I didn't know. Many of the families were friend's of Mom's she knew through Sarah, young mothers with high flying husbands. High flying for Denton, anyway.

Around noon we were called in to eat. The wedding breakfast was early, because Mom and Jerry needed to catch a flight at five from BWI and wanted to leave an hour and a half to get there and plenty of time to check in.

I discovered almost as soon as we finished eating that I was meant to make a speech. As stand in giver-away it fell on me to make a short eulogy to my Mom, and I have no idea how it had not occurred to me earlier something like this was required.

I stood with absolutely no idea what I was going to say, wishing I had had a drink after all.

I opened my mouth and said, "I guess the only person here who's know Heather Graham - sorry, Jerry - Heather Wilson, longer than me is my uncle Dave over there," I raised my glass of coke to him and he nodded back. "So it's down to me to tell you what a wonderful woman she is, what a wonderful Mom she is, and what a wonderful wife she's going to make for Jerry..."

I got through it. I kept it short, threw in a couple of funny anecdotes about things that happened when we were kids, kept it light, and as I finished there was applause and when I looked at Mom tears were streaming down her face and she was blowing her nose into a tissue.

I pulled a face at her and she stuck her tongue out and then Jerry's best man rose and made us all laugh.

As Mom and Jerry made their way out to the waiting car quite a little crowd had grown. I had been surprised at how many people had come to the lunch, friends of Mom's and Jerry's, and how many others gathered to see them off. There were maybe forty of us there as Mom looked back coyly and prepared to throw her bouquet over her shoulder. I was standing directly behind Sarah, as planned. There were not that many single women around, but some of the young moms looked ready to leap into battle for the honor of the bouquet.

Ali was at my side and I said, "You gonna go for it, Al?"

She laughed. "And who would I marry?"

"You never know. You'll find some girl, settle down, have kids, a dog, three bedrooms and two cars in the garage..."

She slapped me hard on the arm and from below me Sarah said in a scarily adult voice, "Do you two ever stop arguing?"

I knelt down, put my hands right around her little waist and said into her ear, "Remember the plan, sweetheart?"

She nodded, moving impatiently from foot to foot. I stood again, still with my hands around her waist, and as Mom, as arranged, tossed her bouquet high into the air I lifted Sarah, squealing, and guided her. She raised her arms high and plucked the flowers from the air, far above all other outstretched hands. Even, I noticed, Ali's.

I dropped her down and she held the bouquet up in triumph. Mom turned and mouthed "Thank you" at me, and then she was in the car and it was driving them to the airport. By tonight they would be in San Francisco, and I wondered if Mom would be able to keep her promise, if I would ever get to make love to her again.

Suddenly the day felt drab, all the color leached from it. But I had chores to do, so I pulled myself together and sorted Sarah out, went around shaking hands and kissing cheeks, then Sarah, Ali and I drove back into town. Sarah had changed out of her maid of honor dress into jeans and a sweatshirt, but Ali still wore hers. We pulled up outside Sarah's school where the camp bus was waiting, together with forty extremely loud, extremely excited young girls.

I had been worried Sarah might be feeling emotional. It had been a big day, she was about to go off for her first week without her family, but I needn't have worried. She exploded out of the car and ran to her friends and immediately joined in the screaming.

Ali grinned at me and I smiled back. "You ever go to camp, Al?"

"Once," she said. "I was thirteen, and it nearly killed me."

"How come?"

"There I was, just discovering my sexuality, locked up for a week with a hundred girls the same age. I had so many goddam crushes that week I'm surprised my heart didn't explode."

I laughed. "I'm glad you survived." I reached over and squeezed her hand.

"Me too."

"Oh, and Al, in case I forget to tell you later, you look really fucking gorgeous in that dress."

"Thanks, Tom. I like your suit too."

"I do look good, don't I?"

I retrieved Sarah's bag from the trunk and got it stowed in the big space under the bus, then Ali and I stood around, chatting occasionally to some of the parents I knew. There were some odd looks, those who knew me well not sure what to make of this tall guy in a well cut suit, the babe at his side. One of the bolder ones even asked if we were a couple. I just smiled enigmatically and Ali went along with the deception.




Ali's Art Ch. 11



Around four the girls were herded into the bus. We stood around until they were all inside, then waved foolishly as they drove off. I could see Sarah, but she never once looked in our direction. She was talking with two other girls, laughing her head off.

I stopped waving to find, somehow, without realizing, I was holding Ali's hand again. I looked at her and smiled. She grinned back.

"That felt good, Tom."

I nodded. "Let's go before all these people marry us off as well."

Ali laughed and we slid back into the hired Ford and drove out of town. Mom had booked as a room, for one night, in a small hotel on the Atlantic coast. Ali read the instructions and I drove, got us lost, found our way again and we pulled up outside the hotel just after six. The hotel was really an upmarket B&B. I carried our two small overnight bags in and rang an old fashioned brass bell.

A woman of about sixty came out, stylish and good looking, and said. "I guess you're the Grahams."

"We are."

"Last to arrive, so it had to be you. If you could sign in, Mr. Graham, I'll call my husband to carry your bags up."

I signed my name and said, "No need for that, we've got hardly anything."

"If you're sure. It would be no trouble." She lifted a large key from the row of hooks behind her and handed it across. "You're in Room 7, top floor." She smiled. "We like to call it the Honeymoon Suite, but I'm afraid it's not that grand."

"The Honeymoon Suite?" I said, playing for time. One key only.

"Your mother said she wanted to spoil you, so she booked our best room. I hope you enjoy your stay, Mr. and Mrs. Graham. If you need a good restaurant, just let me know. We've got a list of good places to eat in town."

I realized I was probably standing with my mouth open, so picked up both my bag and Ali's and turned away.

"Top floor, you said?"

She smiled and nodded, and Ali followed me up the stairs.

As I opened the door into room 7 I saw why it was called the honeymoon suite. A large four poster took up one wall of the room. Off to one side bay windows offered an uninterrupted view of the ocean, the windows open to let in the sound of surf. I dumped our bags on the floor and Ali leapt and bounced on the bed, her dress riding up to show the top of her stockings. She had hold ups just like Mom and I caught a flash their tops before her dress dropped back down.

"Wow, I just love this room!" Ali said.

"What was Mom thinking of?" I said.

Ali cocked her head at me. "What do you mean?"

"I thought we'd have our own rooms."

Ali laughed. "Don't love me anymore, Tom? And you've got to admit, this is a wonderful room."

I looked around, shrugged. "It is."

I explored, opening drawers and closets. I opened a door to find an enormous en-suite. A huge corner bath sat at the far side, looking big enough to float a battleship.

I felt Ali come up behind me and put her arms on my shoulders.

"Wow - look at that bath! I'm gonna do a couple of lengths later on."

"We could have a race," I said, joking, but Ali dropped her hands and slid them around my wait.

"I will if you will, Tom," she said.

I pulled away from her, for some reason uneasy today with her teasing. Maybe it was the fact only a few hours before I had had my cock buried inside my Mom as I ejaculated into her.

"Do you fancy a walk through town, take in the sights? See if we can find anywhere to eat?"

"I don't think I want to eat, Tom. I'm still full after that meal. But I'll come for a walk. We can grab a couple of bottles of wine and come back here."

As we walked along the seafront Ali slipped her arm inside mine. I felt good, dressed in my suit, Ali beside me in her maid of honor dress, we looked like a well off young couple out enjoying the evening air.

We went about a mile, then turned and made our way back, stopping off at a store where Ali chose a couple of good bottles.

Back in the room we opened the wine. Ali had made sure in the shop to buy screw tops, and these days that didn't always mean cheap wine. There were glasses on the cabinet and Ali poured for us both, lifted her glass and clinked against mine.

"To our week as a couple," she said, a twinkle in her eye.

"Great. When's our first fight?"

"Watch it, buster, or it's gonna be now." She took a long swallow of her wine, said, "That's good," then said, "I'm going to try that bath out."

I sat back on the bed, loosened my tie and slipped my shoes off. I watched her go through to the bathroom and start the water running. She came back out and sat beside me, looked over her shoulder and said, "Unzip me, Tom?"

For the second time that day I drew down the zip on the dress of a beautiful woman.

Ali got up, slipped the dress off and carefully arranged it on a hanger, standing unselfconscious in front of me in her push up bra, garter belt and cream stockings. Her tiny panties were cut low at the front, high over her ass, their lace material hiding nothing.

"Getting a good look?" she asked.

I nodded and grinned. "And very nice it is too," I replied.

"You're an animal."

"I'm lying here fully clothed. It's you flaunting herself in stockings and knickers."

"They are nice, aren't they?" she said, putting her hands on her stomach and looking down at herself. "Make me feel sexy."

"Make you look sexy, too," I said.

"Why thank you, sir," she curtsied, fluttering her long eyelashes.

Wow, I thought, knowing Ali's moods, wondering what might be coming, wondering how much more she was going to remove, but I was disappointed because she turned and strode through to the bathroom. Then she called back, "Top my wine up, Tom, and bring it through, will you?"

"Sure," I called.

I dropped off the bed and topped her glass up, did the same to mine, went through just as Ali was sliding into the enormous tub. She had poured in as many of the bath salts and lotions as she could find and the scented, foaming water covered her body. She sank down until just her nose and eyes showed.

"Life saver," she said, sitting up more and reaching for the wine. She took a large swallow and sighed.

"Good?" I asked.

"The wine or the bath?"

"Both."

"Wine's OK. Not bad. The bath is wonderful!" She took another large swallow, put her glass down on the side of the tub and pulled her other hand out holding a large sponge and squeezed it so water ran down her neck and across the top of her breasts. 

"You gonna come and join me?" She said.

"In there?"

"Yeah, in here."

"You sure?"

"Wouldn't have asked if I wasn't, cuz."

"Is it a good idea?" I asked.

"Why, you gonna do something inappropriate?"

"Other than share a bath with my first cousin?"

"Yeah, other than that."

"I guess not," I said.

"Shame," Ali grinned. "You can still come in though."

I didn't think about it for long. I put my glass down on the other end of the tub, then went back into the bedroom and removed my clothes. My cock wasn't too hard, still happy after fucking my mother. When I went back in Ali sat up to give me room. I stepped into the other corner of the tub, the water hot against my feet, then slid down until it covered me to my chest. 

Now I was lying down my legs weren't quite sure where they should go. I could feel Ali's feet moving against my thighs as she searched for somewhere to put hers. we looked at each other and suddenly laughed.

"Seemed like a good idea before," Ali said.

"Feels like a good idea now," I said. "Hey, watch it," I added as her toes bumped into my balls.

"Oh good, bath toys," she said, still grinning, and left her foot where it was for a moment. Then she sat forward, wriggled around and presented her long slim back to me.

"Wanna give me a wash, Tom?" she said, looking back over her shoulder.

I picked up the sponge, soaped it and began to work it against her skin, smoothing it over, working down towards her waist then back up.

After a while Ali began to move backwards and I opened my legs to let her come up between them. Pretty soon she was hard up against me and I barely had room to work the sponge.

"Lift me up a bit, Tom," she said.

I put my hands around her waist and pulled her back. She slid on top of me, her slippery wet back sliding along my cock, which was now very hard. Then she kept coming, moving back until her head was against my shoulder, her long wet hair dripping against my neck. She wriggled, settled, and my stiff cock lay flat directly between the cheeks of her ass.

"Mm, friendly," she said.

"Very friendly."

"I can't wash your back like this though."

"Guess not."

"Want me to do the front?"

"There's any idea... Tom?"

"Yes, Al?"

"I'm feeling really fucking horny."

"Mm-hmm?"

"Do you want to do something about it for me?"

"Me?"

"Yeah, you."

"But I'm a guy."

"I know. Weird, isn't it? But you're Tom. You're my best friend. What are best friends for if they can't help each other out now and then?"

"I'd love to help. But are you sure, Al?"

Her head nodded against my neck "Very sure."

"What do you want?" I asked.

"I want you to make me cum, Tom."

"How...?"

She moved softly against me, my cock slipping up and down along the crack of her ass.

"Any way you want," she whispered.

I moved my hand from her waist, slid it around onto her belly, her skin slippery and smooth, slid it down until my fingers were almost at her pussy.

"Like this?" I said softly.

"Mm-hm," she murmured.

"And this?" I said, slipping my hand lower, touching for the first time the fat bud of her clitoris. I swirled my fingers around it and felt Ali push her head back against my chest.

"Mm-hm," she murmured again.

"And how about this?" I slid my hand down between her legs, found the closed slit between her labia and ran my finger along it, pressed until she opened, pushed the finger just inside.

"Mmm," she said.

She lifted herself against me, sliding back along my wet belly. My cock slithered down along her ass, popped out and sprang up between her legs. I felt Ali's fingers close around it. She rubbed me softly, twice, then pulled me back and placed the head of my cock against her pussy.

"Like this?" she whispered. "Would you like this, Tom?"

I kissed her neck. "I would love it, Al. But that's not a good idea."

I could feel the head of my cock resting against her pussy, parting her slightly but not yet entering.

"I wouldn't mind," she said.

"But..."

"You can fuck me, Tom."

"It would change things," I said. "I wouldn't want that to happen."

"Do you think it would?" she said. She had lifted her hands and was stroking her breasts. I could see them just below me, her nipples longer and harder than I had ever seen them.

"I don't want to risk it, Al," I said.

I felt her nod. "You're a good man, Thomas Graham." And she lifted and my cock drifted free. She moved against me, sank back down, and this time my cock was trapped against her ass. She moved some more, deliberately, moved my cock, deliberately, and it now rested against her asshole. I could feel the small dimple it made around the head of my cock.

"Like this?" she asked again, softly.

"Al..." I whispered.

"You'd like to do that...?"

"No... Yes... but no..."

"Why not?"

"Same reason," I said.

"What is it about you, Tom?" she said very quietly. "I really am not into men, not at all. Never have been. But I'm into you, Tom. You know I am, don't you? Are you into me?"

"Not quite," I said, and she laughed and slapped me gently on the side.

"I don't know why, but it just feels so good when we're together. And I know it's not fair on you, Tom, I know I tease you like this and it must be hell for you-"

"Hell," I interrupted, and she slapped me again.

"But it's fun, Tom. I like doing things with you. Dirty things. Are we being dirty?"

"I thought we were getting clean," I said.

"You could clean inside my ass for me if you want, Tom. You could push something inside there and clean me." There was a bubble of laughter in her voice.

"You can surely tease a man," I said.

She wriggled, moved and my cock pressed against her asshole. I felt the pressure of her against me, felt a slight loosening and pulled myself away.

"Like that?" she giggled.

"Just like that," I said.

"This is fun," she said. "I like doing stuff like this with you, Tom."

"Because I'm safe?"

She moved again, adding more pressure, opened a little and this time I did not pull away.

"oh," she whispered. The very tip of my cock had opened her ass, not quite entering her, but had parted the tight opening where I lay against her.

"Does that feel safe?" I asked.

She shook her head. "Not safe, Tom... Feels nice though. I'm curious. You know I like my ass being touched. You know that."

"This is different," I said. "This could hurt." And as I said it I wondered if I was really going to do it.

"I know. But I'm curious. Is that wicked?"

"I think you told me, once, that nothing was wrong, not if it's OK with two people."

"Or even three," she said.

"Or three," I agreed.

"Mm," she murmured. "Feels nice just like this. Feels dirty. Feels rude... You gonna make me cum then, Tom?"

My hand was still resting alongside her pussy.

"Like this?"

She nodded. "Please."

I slid my fingers back down, opened her pussy, wet and full of water, pushed a finger inside her, pressed the ball of my thumb onto her clitoris.

"Nnn," she grunted.

"Like this?" I asked.

"Mmm," she said.

I increased the movement of my fingers, dipping into her, and she started to rock against me. It felt weird and wonderful. Each time she moved my cock was draw back from her asshole and I felt it close up. When she moved back I opened her again, still not entering, not really going anywhere, but opening her bud, widening it.

"Oh Tom," Ali gasped. "I'm not gonna last very long if you do that."

"Good," I said into her ear, and kissed her neck.

She started to move more quickly as my fingers rubbed her wet pussy, her teasing ass pressing against me, and I wondered if I was going to cum as well, and if I did would I be cumming in her ass or not? When she pressed down it felt like I was about to slip inside, and if I came at that moment, would it jet inside her or splash against her cheeks?

Ali began to tremble, then rock more violently. For a brief moment she pressed hard back against me and I felt her ass open and I think I did slip inside, just, the head of my cock opening her wide and sliding inside, maybe half an inch. As though this was what she had been waiting for Ali bucked and cried out. She drew her legs up and my cock slipped free, slipped sideways, and I kept my hand on her pussy, kept rubbing her as she cried out again and shivered on top of me.

Ali lay naked on her stomach on the big bed, small on top of the covers, and looked back at me.

"Tom... I'm still really horny. Will you play with me some more? Make me cum again?"

My cock still ached, still demanded release, but I wanted to wait, to draw the suspense out.

"Sure," I said. "How many times?"

Ali grinned. "At least five, I think."

"Only five?"

"OK, more than five. But you have to promise to stop if I pass out."

"Maybe," I said. "But once you pass out I can do anything I want to you."

Ali twisted and lifted her hips, found the position awkward. She grabbed a couple of pillows and tucked them under herself, lifting her beautiful ass, exposing herself fully.

"You know what I like, Tom," she said.

I knelt on the bottom of the bed, put my hand around her ankle, tugged her slightly, lifted her leg and opened her wider.

"Mm," she said. "And afterwards, I promise you can cum as well."

"Me? I don't need to cum" I said.

She looked down her body at my rock hard cock. "Oh no, I can see you don't. Good - all the more for me."

I slid my hand up inside her leg, feeling the smooth skin. Ali sighed and put her head down, her still damp hair spread out over her shoulders, her slim hips lifted by the pillows beneath.

My hand trailed up the back of her thigh, reached the swell of her ass and slid inwards. I let my finger trace across her exposed asshole, pale and pink, perfectly sculpted, and she shivered.

"I think you like it like that," I said.

"Mm-hm."

I slid my fingers up her crack until it drifted onto her back, then back down. As I crossed her ass again she twitched.

"Don't tease, Tom," she muttered.

"Whose teasing?" But I let my fingertip linger the next time it reached its target, let it trace around the outside of her smooth hole, and Ali sighed deeply.

"I don't know what it is, but I can't get enough of that."

"Oh good," I said.

Ali giggled. "Am I just a wanton hussy?"

"I do hope so."

I touched her again, lifted my finger to my mouth and wetted it, spread my saliva around her hole, wetted my finger again, spread it inside her hole.

"Nice," she said.

"Al?"

"Mm?"

"Can I use my tongue?"

I felt her tense slightly under my finger, then she nodded and said, "I you want to... if you don't think it's too gross..."

"Not too gross."

"Sure?" she said.

I left my finger touching her asshole, moved up the bed, kneeling between her parted legs, then leaned down and kissed her on one cheek of her ass then the other. I licked her firm globes, ran my hand over her back, down into her crack, and then finally let my tongue follow.

I flicked lightly at her asshole, tasted a slight mustiness, but mostly tasted soap and bath salts. Ali jumped and twitched. I flicked her again and she moaned.

My cock throbbed. I wanted to touch myself, to rub myself, but I held back.

I licked her more fully on her ass, damping her entire crack, then used the tip of my tongue on her and probed, pushing, feeling her tight opening part to my insistence. I pushed some more, felt my tongue enter her, taste her.

"God Tom, are you sure you want to do that...?" Ali gasped, but there seemed little reluctance in her voice.

I pulled back a little, felt my tongue slide out of her. "You taste wonderful," I said.

"Tom..." she said.

"Mm?"

"Do something for me?"

"Anything."

"Ha," she said, then, "Put your cock on me there, just for a minute...?"

"On your ass?"

She nodded. "Please."

"I don't want to fuck you, Al," I said.

She nodded again. "I know. I know. But I'm going crazy, I just wanna feel it on me there. Please, Tom, just for a second?"

I moved, lifting myself up along her body. I held my cock and placed the top inside the parting of her ass, not quite touching her. Ali lifted her hips back, demanding more. I lowered myself and watched as the tip of my rigid cock touched her slick asshole, wet with my spit.

"Mmmm," Ali moaned, pushing her head down into the covers.

"You like that?" I whispered.

She nodded rapidly. "Love it. Tease me, Tom, tease me with your cock."

"I'm not gonna fuck you," I said, and I meant it.

She shook her head. "Don't wanna be fucked, Tom. Into girls, me, you know that. But that's so fucking hot... I could never ask anyone else to do that to me, never want anyone else to do that... just pretend, Tom, pretend to fuck me a little bit in the ass..."

The room felt very hot. I gripped my cock and slid it along her crack again. Touched her asshole once more and she grunted.

I pulled back and leaned over her, let saliva drip from my mouth onto her asshole, put my cock into the small pool gathered inside her cleft and pushed it around.

"Changed my mind," Ali said. She had pushed her hand down between her legs and I could see her fingering herself deeply.

"That's fine," I said, and pulled myself back.

"No," Ali shook her head, "Not that. Want you to do it, Tom... Want you to fuck my ass..."

"Al," I moaned.

"Want you to, Tom."

I moved my cock back, touched her, felt the ring of her ass underneath my head. I wanted to push. She was wet now. I could slip inside if I applied just a little more pressure. I pressed down. I saw her ass open a little, saw it part and let my cock widen it. I was still outside of her, but only a little more pressure and she would open for me.




Ali's Art Ch. 11



"Oh Tom... that feels fucking amazing..."

"Al," I said. I was trembling like I had a fever. My head was spinning and I felt like I was going to pass out.

Then I pulled back. 

"Tom..." Ali said.

"I can't," I said.

"You can't?" She half rolled over and looked at me. "You can't?"

"Al..." I dropped my head, put my hand on her back. "It would ruin everything," I said.

She looked at me for a long while, then gave a tiny nod.

"God, why do you have to be so fucking right, Tom? I wanted you to do that then. You could have fucked my ass. I wanted you to put your cock in my ass!"

"I know."

"And you're so fucking right, that's what makes it worse. I was wrong and you're right."

"I don't want to be," I said.

She let her breath out, shook her head. "That could be your only chance, you know that?"

I nodded.

"You can live with that?"

I nodded again.

"Fucking men," she grunted, and lay back on her stomach. "OK then, just make me cum six or seven times then. Is that OK?"

"Sure," I said, and lowered my hand from her waist and touched her asshole again, then without hesitation pushed my finger inside her, all the way inside. She squeaked and jumped.

"Fuck Tom, give a girl some warning."

"You'd have jumped a lot more than that if it had been my cock," I said.

"Yeah yeah yeah," she said, but her ass was moving against my finger, demanding attention.

I knelt and slid my other hand under her belly, pushed her fingers aside and touched her pussy. She was so wet. My finger slipped inside without resistance, my thumb found her clitoris, and I worked her from both sides, one finger dipping into her front opening, another into her rear.

"Oh fuck yeah," she moaned, and started to shake. She was cumming, almost at once she was cumming, and after she finished jerking I increased my pace and heard her breath quicken.

"How many times, Al?" I said, leaning over and whispering in her ear.

"Nn," she grunted.

"Six or seven?" I asked.

"Oh fuck fuck fuck," she mumbled into the covers and shook again.

"Five left," I said, and kissed her shoulder. My cock lay against her thigh, long and hard, and I moved so it slid up inside her legs and touched her on the side of her pussy.

Ali squealed and came again.

"Don't," she said. "Don't tease me if you don't mean it, Tom."

I smiled and applied pressure on my cock, removed my fingers and let the tip of my cock rest against her gorgeous pussy. For a moment I let myself go, let myself part her and slid inside, just an inch inside and she lifted her hips and I felt her want more, then I pulled back and out.

"I won't tease," I said.

"Fucking liar."

I lifted her hips even higher, grabbed two more pillows and stuffed them underneath her, moved over her again, sliding my cock along her crack, resting on her asshole, applied pressure then pulled back. Then I moved down, licking and kissing her back as I went, licked at her asshole, pulled her up and pushed my tongue down between her legs, tasted for the first time the sweetness of her pussy. Her juices were flowing like spring water and I lapped at them, flicked my tongue along her slit, flicked it between her lips and pushed it inside. She moaned and wriggled and I pushed deeper.

I pulled back to speak. "Does that feel the same as a girl, Al?"

She shook her head, her drying hair flying. "No," she gasped.

I lowered myself again, extended my tongue and found her clitoris. It was fat and short and stuck out from beneath its hood and I licked it then nipped it with my teeth and finally sucked it inside my lips. I sucked it in and out, sucking on it like a tiny cock, kept sucking until I felt Ali began to twitch, then held it there inside my lips as she shook and shivered beneath me.

As she sank back down her hand came back and grabbed my hair and she pulled, hard, hurting me.

"Enough," she gasped.

I let her pull me up. Let her push me back onto the bed beside her.

"I only counted five," I said.

"Enough. Fucking enough," she gasped.

I lay beside her, Ali on her stomach, head turned to me, chest heaving. She stroked her hand flat across my belly, slid it up to my chest, slid it back down to my navel and a little lower. She rolled around more, exposing her breasts. I reached across and held one, held on for the first time, cupping it, feeling its small weight, its perfect roundness.

Then Ali's hand slid down and grasped my cock.

"What about this then?" she asked softly. "I think it's your turn for a little attention."

"I'm fine," I said, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Don't want you to be fine, Tom. Want to finish this off for you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," she said, looking down at my cock, holding it and stroking it.

"I guess," I said.

"OK?"

"I guess," I repeated.

Ali grinned. "Fuck you, Tom Graham," she said. "You're not the only one can tease."

She let me go, pushed me hard on the shoulder. I didn't know what she wanted and pushed back.

"On your front," she said, pushing again. She pushed harder, tugged at my legs and turned me over.

When I was flat, I felt her roll over and lie on top of me, her breasts on my back, her hot pussy pressed against my ass. She pushed, humping against me.

"You didn't wanna fuck my ass, did you, but what if I fucked yours, eh, what if I fucked your ass?"

"Have you got the equipment, Al?"

She lifted up and slapped my ass. "Fuck the equipment. Spread your legs, bitch. You're my bitch now. Spread it." She pushed her hand down between my thighs, tugged my legs, parting them. Her fingers found my ball sac and held it, rolling my balls inside her palm.

"Big balls," she whispered. "Lovely big balls."

Then she tugged my hips, lifting me up and as I rose she grabbed the pillows and shoved them underneath me. I could feel cool air on my asshole as I opened in front of her.

"Mm," she said, and as she spoke I could feel her breath, warm, against my ass. "Nice asshole, for a guy. Nice and tiny. A bit hairy, but we can sort that out later."

I heard her spit and felt wetness splash my asshole, then her finger, probing. She didn't bother with much foreplay, just rolling her spit around my puckered hole before pushing with her fingertip and I felt her instantly slide inside. She pulled out, spat again, inserted her finger again.

She had parted her legs around my thigh and I could feel her wet pussy against the back of my leg, felt her rocking against me.

She leaned over and licked my back, whispered, "What's that like, Tom? You like that?"

"Mm," I said, trying to work out if I did or not.

"Like my finger inside your ass?"

She wiggled it, pushed it all the way in then drew it out. More split, more invasion.

"Tell me, Tom, you like it?"

I nodded, realizing suddenly that I did, liked it a lot. "I do, Al, I like it."

"Mm... me too. I like my finger in your ass, Tom. I'm looking at it disappearing inside there, all the way up to the top. I've got my whole finger in your ass, Tom. You're my fucking bitch now."

She was rocking faster against my leg, her pussy sopping on my thigh, her juices running down over me.

"Mm," she said. "Fuck your ass," she grunted, and pulled her finger out suddenly, pushed a leg underneath me, pushed hard to make room, her other leg coming over and I felt her wet pussy touch my ass, felt it push down and then it was hard against my asshole. 

"Gonna fuck your ass, Tom," she said. "You chickened out, didn't wanna do mine, but I'm gonna fuck your ass for you. You want that?"

"Yes," I said.

Ali pumped against me, making my asshole wet with her juices. I could her a sucking sound as she bore down against me, pulled back, pushed down. Felt her pussy lips flatten against my ass.

"I'm gonna fuck your ass, Tom," she grunted, then squealed and started to shudder against me. "Fuck you, Tom Graham, fuck you to hell... No!" she squealed again and my ass grew wetter as she came against me. She stilled slowly, still gently pumping, then put her hand on my back.

"Six," she whispered. "You bastard."

"Do you like that, Al? Like fucking my ass?"

"I wish I had a cock," she said. "I wish I had your big cock and I'd stick it all the way in there."

"I'm glad you haven't," I said. "I'm not into guys."

"But if it was me, Tom? You'd let me, yeah?"

"It wouldn't be you, Al, would it."

"Fuck," she said. "What if I got one of those dildos then. One of those double dildos. What if I stuck one end up my pussy and the other up your ass. Would you let me fuck you like that, Tom?" She whispered, her lips kissing my back. "Would you let me fuck your ass like that?"

I didn't reply, and she tugged me so I rolled over onto my back, straddled me and kissed my lips then with her face close to mine looked directly into my eyes. She studied me for a long time, kissed me again and said, "Would you let me fuck you like that, Tom?"

Her face was serious, and I realized she really meant it. The idea was turning her on.

I nodded. "If you wanted to. Yeah."

"Yeah what, Tom?" There was a smile playing on her lips now.

"You could fuck me in the ass, Al. But you haven't got a dildo... have you?"

She laughed. "No. Not at the moment." She lay flat on top of me, her breasts pressing against my chest, my cock jutting up hard between her thighs. "But I'm gonna get one."

I looked at her, knowing she meant it. Would I really let her do that to me? Would I?

"If you get one, Al, I'd want you to fuck me in my ass."

She put her hands on my face, kissed me. "Honestly?"

I nodded, knowing that I would let her. Discovering that the idea, now planted, was turning me on.

She grinned, her face close to mine. "Yeah? Promise?" Her hands gripped my face, holding me so I had to look at her.

I nodded, or tried to nod. "Yeah," I said. "You could."

She suddenly dipped down and kissed me. Her mouth was open, hot against mine, and her tongue pushed hard between my teeth, filling my mouth. The she pulled suddenly back.

"I'm gonna do that then, Tom. I'm gonna get one and fuck you. I'm gonna fuck myself and fuck you at the same time."

"Looking forward to it already," I said.

She slid down me, damp and sweated against me, rested her head on my belly, put her hand around my cock. "God, Tom, how the hell have to not cum yet?"

I laughed softly. "I have absolutely no idea."

"You ready now?" she said.

"I've been ready all night."

"But now? Can I make you cum now?"

"Is that what you want?"

Ali laughed gently. "After what we've been doing, you still need to ask?"

"Then yeah, make me cum," I said, and relaxed back on the bed.

Ali stroked the underside of my cock, stroked my balls, circled her finger around the solid ridge beneath the head. Her face lowered, getting closer.

"Beautiful cock, Tom. It's you. It must be you. I have no inclination at all for cock, not one tiny bit. But when it's yours, it's different." I felt her breath warm against my glans, then she pecked a kiss on it and I twitched.

"Nearly?" Ali asked.

"Almost," I said.

"You liked that?" she said, kissing it again, planting tiny wet kisses all along the underside of my cock, all the way back up, tiny kisses on the head of my cock, then a small kiss right on the top and her tongue flicked against my slit.

"God yeah," I moaned.

"Hmmm... so what else can I do..."

She licked my again, kissed the sides of my cock, came back up. Kissed the top. Opened her mouth and then closed her lips around me, just the head inside her mouth, hardly any distance at all but it was the most amazing thing I had ever experienced.

"Al!" I grunted. "Careful!"

She lifted back. "Close?" she whispered.

"You wouldn't believe."

"Mmm, good," and she went back down, closed her lips around me again.

I sat up, pulling pillows behind me, wanting to watch, and Al turned sideways, knowing what I wanted and showed my cock inside her full lips. She bobbed, slipping me in and out, still only an inch, at most two, but it was unbelievable.

She came up. "Am I doing this right, Tom? No practice, you see."

"Doing good," I said.

"You taste nice..." she said. "Salty, and a little sweet." she rubbed my cock as she spoke, drew my cock along her lower lip, rubbed it against her face.

"Al," I grunted. "I gonna cum any minute now."

She glanced quickly up at me, down at my cock.

"I'm trying to decide," she said. She rubbed me some more and I felt my balls tighten.

"Decide what," I said.

"If I want you to cum in my mouth..."

"Oh God, Al."

"I think I do," she said. "I'd really like to let you cum in my mouth. But... well, I've never done anything like this before, and I'm not sure..." She opened her mouth and took me inside again, licked me like a lollipop, slid me back out. "What do you think, Tom, should I let you cum in my mouth?"

"Your decision," I grunted.

"Would you like to? Would you like to cum in my mouth?"

I rocked my head. "Not up to me, Al. Do what you want to..."

"I want to let you," she said. "But I'm not sure."

"Then don't," I said, maybe more sharply than I meant, but she missed my tone. "But for fuck's sake Al, one way or another, will you please make me cum now."

I saw her smile, and knew she was teasing, getting her own back. I almost lost it then, almost turned her over and rammed my cock into her pussy, but I held on, shivering, feeling as though my cock was on fire.

Ali lowered her head again, licked around the head of my cock, drew me inside her mouth.

"Al," I whispered.

She opened her mouth and took more of my cock, three inches now, and I could feel her tongue underneath my cock, feel her back teeth against the head.

"I'm gonna cum now, Al," I said. "Decision time, babe."

"Mmm," she said, her mouth still wrapped around me.

I tried to hold on, just a moment longer, to give her time, but it was no good. The first spasm exploded inside me and I felt it rush up along my cock.

"Al! Oh fuck Al!" I cried.

I let a stream of semen go, jetting hard, and Ali felt the first salty explosion and pulled back. I watched as her mouth opened, my cock still inside, and I jetted into it, onto her tongue, then she was rubbing me hard, pointing my cock at her face and another jet streamed out and splashed her cheek, splashing hard because I was cumming harder than I had ever done in my life. Cumming again, and she directed me again, opened her mouth and took another stream. I saw her roll her tongue around, saw her tasting me, then she made a decision and lowered her mouth and pulled me in and when I came again it was inside her mouth, her lips closed, and I exploded inside her mouth and felt her swallow.

Finally I stopped. I have no idea how many times I shot into her mouth, how many times she swallowed. Finally I slumped on the bed, feeling my cock soften, still inside her mouth, and as I softened she sucked me in, as I softened more she sucked me more until she had my whole limp cock inside her mouth. She lifted her eyes up and looked at me, smiled around my cock. She sucked me, drawing the last drops from my core, then slowly released me and sat back, wiping her hand across her mouth.

"Decided yet?" I asked.

She slapped me on the thigh.

"So... have I turned you heterosexual, Al?"

She shook her head. "Still like girls," she said. "Still like girls best... except for you."

"Wow," I said.

She put her hand on her mouth and wiped some of my cum onto her fingers, looked at it then put her finger in her mouth and licked it clean. "I guess dykes aren't meant to like that, are they?" she said.

"I don't think so."

"I don't wanna go sucking any other cock, Tom, OK? Only yours."

I looked at her, aching for her.

"I guess this is getting a bit out of hand, Al," I said.

She nodded. "Out of hand," she said, "And into mouth."

I smiled. "You know what I mean."

She nodded again. "You want it to stop?"

I shook my head. "But what about you? This isn't fair on you."

"Me? If anyone's being hard done by here, Tom, it's you. I'm getting my rocks off. Six times! You cum once-"

"But in your mouth," I said.

She shrugged. "Yeah, OK, in my mouth. But..." She stopped, realizing she was trying to explain the impossible, and started to laugh. I joined her, and she flopped down on top of me, rippling against my chest.

Slowly we stopped, and she lifted her head and kissed me.

"One day, Tom," she said.

"One day what, Al?"

"One day I'm gonna ask you to really fuck me. And when I do, will you say yes?"

"If you ever do, then of course I'm gonna say yes."

She looked at me for a long time, her face serious, then nodded. "Good. And just so you know, I'll hold you to that."



Ali's Art Ch. 12



Tony's restaurant was down a narrow side street that ran north-south off the town square. At seven-thirty on Monday evening the lowering sun still caught the tables and chairs arranged outside. It was quiet, too early for the evening rush which would start about eight, and we asked and were given one of the larger tables at the end. We ordered drinks, beer for me, wine for Ali. 

Ali and I had decided we couldn't be bothered with cooking so she had persuaded me to take her out to eat. We walked through the warm evening into town and I asked what she felt like and she said Italian.

We had arrived back at my old house at noon after our dangerous night of almost love making in the seaside hotel. Driving back we had been quiet but not uncomfortable. I determined to spend the week trying to treat Ali like the sister I often felt she was, and to stop thinking of her in a sexual way. 

Trouble was, every time I glanced at her stretched out in the seat beside me, her bare feet up on the dash, her long legs displayed where her skirt had ridden up high on her thighs, I couldn't help but remember the night before and how close I had come to fucking her.

Drinks had been delivered to the table and we were sitting talking about Mom's wedding when a voice cut through our conversation.

"Tom? Tom Graham? It is you!"

I turned. There were half a dozen other tables occupied, but no-one seemed to be looking our way. Then I noticed the waitress, tray in hand, grinning at me.

"Crystal?"

"Tom," she said, her grin growing wider. "I thought you'd moved away."

"Back for the week," I said.

Crystal moved across towards our table. "I heard your Mom was getting married. That was this week?"

"Saturday," I said.

"Cool. Good wedding?"

I smiled. "Yeah, it was fun." I looked at Alison and saw she was trying to keep a poker face.

"It's just... wow... so weird to see you here. You're looking good, Tom, real good."

"You too, Crystal." And I meant it. Crystal had been that girl in High School, the one all the other girls wanted to be, the one all the guys wanted to be with, but she seemed to only ever go out with the jocks, which had ruled me out. Now she had hardly changed. She was my age, though I couldn't remember if she was older or younger by a few months. She still had a drop-dead gorgeous figure, long, long legs, curly blonde hair and unbelievable boobs.

Tony's didn't have a uniform, just asked their staff to be fairly conservative, but they all had a small apron tied around their waists. Crystal's waist was tiny, then bloomed into wider hips.

Crystal was wearing a black tee shirt cut narrow over her shoulders, a short cream skirt that came half way down her thighs.

She stood for a moment, waiting for something, and I said, "This is my cousin, Alison. We both go to the same college in New York."

"Hi," Crystal said, and put her slim hand out to shake Ali's hand.

"Hey, listen," Crystal said, "I'm gonna swap your table with Pete so I'll be serving you, we can sneak a chat in each time I come out. Yeah?"

"Sure," I said.

Crystal grinned, turned and strode back inside.

Ali looked at me and raised an eyebrow. I looked back with a poker face.

"Old girlfriend?" Ali asked.

"Hardly," I said. "Wa-ay out of my league."

Ali leaned over, resting her elbows on the table, pushing aside her cutlery. That wicked smile I now recognized well was playing on her lips. "So tell me, Tom, who is Crystal? Did you and she have a thing back in school?"

"Me?" I laughed. "No way. Though if I'd had the chance I'd have jumped at it."

"I just thought, from the way she looked at you there must have been something in the past. You did notice how she was looking at you, didn't you, Tom?"

"Kind of," I said, embarrassed because I had thought Crystal was acting as though she was real interested, and still trying to get my head around that. In High School the idea would have been impossible.

"She was," Ali said. "She looked like she'd got the hots for you, Tom."

"She was the hot one in school, Al," I said. "I was just an art nerd. To be honest, I'm surprised she even remembers me."

"Seems to me she remembers you pretty well. Maybe you made more of an impression than you knew."

"Yeah," I scoffed. "And maybe you'll settle down with a nice man and turn into a perfect housewife."

"Hey, not fair. This isn't about me. It's about you and Crystal."

I burst out laughing. "Al, there is no me and Crystal, never has been. There is no nothing. She's just being nice to us. Hoping for a big tip."

"Yeah, they are, aren't they?"

"What?" I frowned.

"Her tits, they're big."

"Shut your evil mouth," I laughed. "Besides, maybe she's more your type."

"You think?" Ali mused. "Must say I wouldn't mind. She is, as you say, hot hot hot!"

"What I can't work out," I said, "Is why she's working at Tony's. Her Dad own his own chain of restaurants, more upmarket than this."

"This is nice," Al said, looking around.

"Yeah. I like it here. But I'm talking about $100 a plate style, Al. I don't know what she's doing here."

"Ask her."

"Just like that?"

"Tom, one of the best things I ever discovered is, if you've got a question, you either ask it straight out, or if you don't want to ask it, forget all about it. Don't sweat on it, worst thing you can do."

Crystal came back with menus and handed them to us. My fingers brushed against hers as I took the big printed sheet. It might be I did it deliberately.

She hung around a moment. "So how's college, Tom? Art, isn't it?"

"Yeah, art," I said, although I didn't recall telling her that. "College is great. What about you, Crystal? You go away, or still here?"

"Still in Denton," she said, her voice relaxed. "I know I'm not the world's brightest bulb, Tom, but I understand business well enough. I'm going to college in Baltimore part time, catering and business studies, and then I'm gonna go work with Dad."

"Great. So what are you doing here?"

She laughed. "Dad won't let me work for him until I've gone through the mill. He said he had to work his way up, and I've gotta do the same. And he won't employ me in any of his places until I've learned somewhere else. He said I've gotta make my mistakes at someone else's expense, not his."

"And you're OK with that?"

She shrugged. "Sure. I can see the sense. And besides, this is kinda fun." She looked at me, about to say something else, then glanced at Ali and stopped herself.

"You were going out with... what was his name... Mike? Marty?" I asked. "You and he were a big item, I recall."

"Mike, yeah. He moved away. Got a football scholarship on the West Coast."

"Shame," I said.

"Oh no, it's fine. Made me realize jocks aren't all there is to life." She glanced at Ali again, and I couldn't quite work out what message she had passed. Was she wondering about and me and Ali? I looked beyond her to the doorway.

"I think Tony's wondering why we're being so long ordering," I whispered.

Crystal glanced around, pulled her mouth down. She had a beautiful mouth however she twisted it out of shape. Wide, full lips, no hint of lipstick but they still looked glossy. "I'd better scoot," she said. "I'll come back in a minute and take your order."

We both watched her go, staring a long time. She was real easy to look at. I could guess what Ali was getting out of the view of her long legs, the round cheeks of her ass swaying beneath her short skirt. And I think Ali knew what I was getting out of it too.

She leaned across to me and whispered, "Think she'd be into a threesome, Tom?" and laughed.

"Behave yourself," I said.

"Want her all to yourself then?"

"No. You have her if you want," I said.

"Don't think I won't," Ali smiled. "Do you know if she swings both ways? Any school rumors?"

"Not so I heard. Tell you what, Al, when she comes to take our order why not ask her? You can apply that rule you were telling me about."

Ali's grin widened. "I might just do that," she said, then went back to studying her menu as though we had been discussing the weather.

She leaned back in her chair, legs crossed, hair tossed back over her shoulders, lightly tanned skin glowing in the evening light. There was no contest between her and Crystal, not in my eyes. But then, Ali wasn't going to fuck me. But also, I thought, inwardly laughing, neither was Crystal.

I drank some beer, read the menu, and made my choice.

Crystal returned. Ali has decided on the seafood pasta. I picked gnocci and tagliatelli. I asked for a bottle of house white to come with the meal, then sat back and listened to the hum of conversation from the other tables. It felt good, out in the warm evening air, sitting across from my beautiful cousin.

By the time Crystal brought our food the light was starting to go and the lamps under the awning had come on, attracting insects that batted and fluttered around them. The restaurant was filling up now, and though she tried to hang around Crystal was too busy for any kind of conversation. 

I ate my food, drank half the wine, talked to Ali and, when Crystal served the other tables enjoyed watching the way her long legs stepped around the chairs, the way her ass moved as she walked, the way her breasts shifted beneath her top.

She came back and cleared our plates, offered the sweet menu and we declined, but we ordered coffees and relaxed, looking out over the street, cars driving slowly, people walking through the dusk.

When Crystal brought our coffee her fingers brushed mine again. She made a little pout with her lips and shrugged apologetically as she placed the bill on the table. I glanced at it, saw service was not included.

After she had gone Ali said, "You going to give her a big one, Tom?"

I widened my eyes at her.

"Tip," she said. "Think she deserves a big tip? She has been a very attentive waitress. Very hands on."

"Couple of dollars, maybe," I said.

"Last of the big spenders," Ali smiled.

The coffee was good, very strong and very hot and we sipped it slowly.

When Crystal returned I placed $100 on the plate. She picked it up and searched in her money belt to make change.

"Keep the change," I said.

"Hey, you sure? That's a big tip, Tom."

I saw Ali trying to suppress a laugh. She lifted her coffee cup to hide her mouth.

"My pleasure," I said. "It was really good to see you again, Crystal."

"You too, Tom, really. And here," she passed me a slip of paper. "It'd be great to get together if you're staying around for a couple of days. You know, catch up. Call me, yeah? Before you go back to New York?"

"Yeah, sure." I glanced at the paper, saw a cellphone number. "Sure."

She grinned. White, white teeth, the tip of a pink tongue showing between them. "Make sure you do, hear?" She placed her hand against my shoulder, left it there a while.

Then she glanced at Ali, met her eyes and I looked for some sign of a challenge there, but saw only amusement. "It was real good to meet you, too, Alison."

We walked back through the streets in full dark.

Inside the house I went around checking the windows and doors. Ali opened a fresh bottle of wine and poured glasses for us both.

I dropped onto the sofa and sipped my ice cold wine.

"I've had good day," I said. "It's been fun playing house with you."

"Me too," Ali said, and twisted round and put her legs over mine. Her short skirt rose up under her, pretty much just bare legs resting across my jeans. I put a hand down on her leg just above the knee and left it there.

"You gonna call Crystal, then?" she asked.

"Jealous?" I teased.

"Me? In your dreams, cuz. You're not my type, remember."

"But Crystal could be."

"She is hot, isn't she?"

I smiled. "Maybe she would go both ways."

"Oo, now that would be fun, wouldn't it?" Ali said. "If she wanted us both. That would be lot's of fun."

I hadn't meant it that way, but once Ali put the idea in my mind it burned at the back of my brain, a hot little vision of two gorgeous women.

"Could be," I agreed. "But all she did was give me her cell number, Al. She wants to catch up. Chat."

"So you gonna call her?"

"Maybe," I said.

"Call her," Ali said. "Ask her round. Call her tonight, see if she wants to come round tomorrow. It'll be just us grown ups."

"You'd really do her?" I asked.

"Fuck yeah," Ali said. "I haven't seen anything that gorgeous in a long, long time. Maybe never."

I patted her leg. "You know, Al, for years I always believed you were pretty buttoned up. Pretty straight laced." I shook my head.

She grinned. "And now?"

"You're just a pussy hound, aren't you?"

"Too right. Mm, I wonder what she'd taste like? Sweet, I bet, sweet and slippy."

Al was getting herself worked up. She had put a hand down onto her leg and twisted the light cotton hem of her skirt up, drawing it along her thigh.

I watched as she lifted it higher. Watched as she raised her other hand and laid it on her belly, high up under her boobs. The thin top showed the stiffening of her nipples.

"I know it's silly, but I've been getting really turned on all night. I'm just so wet right now. You don't mind if I do myself, Tom?" Ali said.

"Go ahead," I said, trying to sound nonchalant but feeling myself grow hard.

"Mm," she said, and lifted her skirt higher, exposing pale blue panties, high cut along her hips, pulled tight into her crack, the front spotted with dampness. She wriggled lower, letting her skirt drop around her waist, pushed her other hand up under her top and I saw her fingers find a nipple. She touched the front of her panties, then lifted her hips and said, "Take them off for me, Tom?"

She was doing it again. There I was, earlier in the day, telling myself I was going to behave, we were going to behave, and now I was ready and willing to pull Ali's panties off and watch her masturbate.

I touched the flimsy material, lightly tracing the line the edge made along her hip, continued along the top and Ali shivered as my finger ran along her belly.

"Don't tease a girl, Tom. Rip 'em off, why doncha."

I sighed, as though she had asked me something real tough, slipped my fingers up from her legs and drew them slowly down. She kicked one ankle free, let the slip of material hang from her other leg.

"That's better," she grunted, and opened her legs a little. Her hand moved down, teasing herself, tracing the side of her outer labia, then unable to wait any longer moved in and slid up along the tight slit cradled between her thighs..

She didn't mind that I sat watching, her legs splayed across mine. Already color was flushing her chest, and she tugged at her top, trying to pull it down over one arm so I helped there as well, exposing her left breast still cupped in the brassiere. Then she leaned forwards and looked at me and I reached round, one handed, and managed on the fourth try to unclip her bra strap. She shucked it forward, letting the breast spill free, then smiled as she lay back down, her clothes now gathering around her waist, one naked breast, one naked pussy, her right fingers working herself quickly.

"Do you wanna join me, Tom?" she said.

"I'm OK," I said, though it wasn't completely true. Ali''s left leg was pressed hard against the growing bulge in my jeans, and it felt good.

"Not gonna be long then," she grunted.

"Go for it, girl," I said.

She smiled and closed her eyes, pushed three fingers into herself. They slid between her plump pussy lips, withdrew glistening with her juices. I watched, my hand still resting on her leg, softly stroking her but never moving any higher than her knee, as she worked herself hard.

It was a wonderful five minutes, Ali completely lost in the wanton joy of pleasuring herself.

She gasped and trembled, pushed her fingers deep, deep inside and lifted her knees, lifted her head and closed up around her belly. She drew her thighs tight, trapping her own fingers, and cried out softly, biting at her bottom lip until she stilled and relaxed. She sighed and opened her eyes, slowly drew her fingers out of her pussy and laid her hand below her navel.

"God Tom, I really had to do that. Sorry."

"For what?" I said. "You think I didn't enjoy the show?"

Ali grinned and sat up, put her arms round my neck and kissed me, full on the mouth, a flicker of tongue adding spice.

"I love you to pieces, Tom Graham. You know that? You're the only man I'd ever dream of doing that in front of. And it turns me on even more to do it in front of you. You know that?"

"I wasn't sure," I said.

She nodded. "It does. It's like your not a man, I've made you an honorary woman in my head. Is that weird?"

"I think so," I said.

"But you understand what I mean?"

"I'm not sure."

"Ah well," she sighed and slumped back, making no attempt to cover herself. "I'll try and work out what I mean. But for now just believe me. I love you, Tom... just not in that way."

I laughed. "That's OK then."

"You gonna jack off now?" she asked.

"Wasn't planning to," I said.

She pressed her leg down against my erection, slid it gently up and down along its length. "Sure?"

"Well..."

She lifted her legs to let me unzip my jeans and tug them down, pull my shorts down to my knees. My cock sprang up and slapped my belly and Ali laid her legs back across mine, skin to skin now. She watched as I circled my hand around myself and started to stroke.

"I just love watching you do that, Tom," she said.

"And you're the only person I've ever let watch me do this, Al."

"Really?"

"Of course."

"Wow. Do you mind if I go for seconds? I won't distract you, will I?"

"Help yourself," I said.

She did. And as she worked herself up to a second shuddering orgasm I built my own, holding back until I saw her start to jerk before I let myself go and splashed semen across my belly, my hand, and some across Ali's thigh. She slid her fingers down through it, wiping it along her leg, drawing it up to her pussy and pushed her fingers back inside.

We lay tangled together, our bodies cooling, until Ali said, "So, you gonna call her?"

"Crystal?"

"Duh," she said.

"I guess."

"Go on then."

"I'm not going to call her when you can listen in," I said. I untangled my legs from under hers, tugged my pants up, then kissed her goodnight.

I called into the bathroom and cleaned up, brushed my teeth and washed my face. Ali passed me as I came out, kissed me on the cheek again and closed the door behind her as she went into Mom's bedroom.

I stripped off and climbed into my single bed, not really long enough for my legs anymore. I put Crystal's number into my phone, hesitated, then pressed call.

I looked at the alarm beside the bed. Eleven forty five. I wondered where she was now, what she was doing. Her phone rang three times, four, five... six... seven... I started to break the call when she answered. 

"Hi Crystal, is this a bad time?"

I heard her laugh, light, come down through the ether to me. "No, not at all. I was just getting ready for bed."

"Me too," I said. 

"Are you in bed?" she asked.

"I am. All snuggled in."

"Hang on then, I'll do the same. I've just got to get undressed. Can you hold a minute?"

"Sure."

I heard the phone go down on something hard, then listened to the sounds of Crystal unzipping, clothes rustling, a swish as something tight slid down over skin... A soft padding as she moved around the room, some crumpling as clothes were dropped, a few gentle bumps. Then she moved away from the phone. I heard faint clattering, some noise I couldn't work out, then voices, loud at first then quickly muted. Had she turned on the TV?

"Back," Crystal said, making me jump a little.

"In your pajamas?" I asked.

She laughed, almost a giggle. "In my usual night attire," she said.

"Which is?" I couldn't believe I was flirting with her, like this, over the phone.




Ali's Art Ch. 12



"Guess," she said coyly. It was a game two of us could play, obviously.

"Marilyn Monro?" I guessed.

"Right. But without the Chanel number 5."

I pictured her in her room, through I couldn't picture the room. Tall, slim Crystal with her big firm breasts and flat belly. I tried to imagine her bush, same color as her hair, or shaved like Ali? I was starting to get hard again.

"I'm just gonna get into bed, Tom, hang on," and there was a rustling of sheets and then a bounce as she moved down. "OK, that's it."

"You watching TV, Crystal?" I asked. I could still hear the sound very faintly in the background.

"Yeah. It helps me sleep."

I laughed. "I don't want to keep you up. But it was great to see you tonight, and I wondered if you'd like to come over tomorrow. We can chill out, catch up on things."

"That'd be fun," she said. "Your cousin won't mind?"

"Ali? No, she'd love to have you round."

We chatted for a few more minutes, then I said goodnight and turned off my lamp.

Over a late breakfast Ali and I decided the day was so perfect we didn't want to waste it indoors.

"We could go for a bike ride," I said.

"You could. I haven't got a bike," Ali said.

"You can have Mom's."

We talked a while about where to go and Ali wanted to trace the route we used to use as kids.

After we'd cleaned up I went upstairs and called Crystal, asked her if eight that evening was OK and she said sure.

We went biking. I made a picnic lunch. Ali changed into jeans and we wound our way through the quiet roads around town, taking in a big loop and coming back past Maggie's place. I wondered if I would see her, but the house looked closed up and I guessed they were away for the summer. I recalled her saying they had a place on a lake somewhere.

We arrived back at the house in the afternoon. Ali went upstairs for a quick shower and I put away the bikes and washed the picnic things.

Ali made herself busy preparing finger food while I showered. I didn't want to risk buying any booze in case I got ID'd but Mom had stocked our fridge with wine. I poured a small glass for each of us and handed one to Ali.

She grinned and gave me a quick kiss. "I think I'm nervous," she said, laughing.

"That I don't believe," I said. She was dressed in a simple single piece dress that buttoned up the front, cut low to show her good cleavage, cut high to show her good legs. She twirled and the material spun out, flashing white silk panties at me. "Pity you didn't make an effort," I said.

Crystal arrived fifteen minutes early and I was still upstairs shaving. Ali shouted up to me and I yelled back down, and when I came downstairs, dressed in a clean shirt and pants, they were both sitting together on the sofa, about a foot apart, talking. I hesitated on the stairs, sure they did not know I was there, fascinated at the two of them, stunned by Crystal.

She wore a skimpy tank top, and from the way her breasts moved freely she had not bothered with a bra. Below that she wore gray jersey shorts, cut extremely tight, showing her long, lean, perfectly sculpted legs, cupping the prominent mound of her pussy. She was too far from me to see, and her position covered her, but I imagined the tight, stretched material would be clearly outlining her pussy lips.

I coughed gently and continued down the stairs.

Ali had poured wine for each of them, pointed to the kitchen and said, "Help yourself."

I listened as I opened the red and poured a glass. Ali was telling Crystal about New York, about how she had graduated and was working on her doctorate.

"Do you regret staying around here?" I asked as I took a seat across from them. I could have joined them on the sofa, there was room, but I wanted to look at them both.

"Sometimes," Crystal replied. "But not much. Couple of years from now Dad will be thinking about taking it easier. Ten years from now he'll be retired and I'll be running his restaurants."

"You've got ambitions?" I asked.

"Sure," she nodded, then took a small sip of her wine. Ali had almost finished her glass. Mine, despite playing catch up, was half empty. Crystal seemed to have hardly touched hers.

"Like?" I encouraged.

"Well... Dad's great, and he's built a good business from absolutely nothing. But times change. People want more varied food now. Just look here," and she waved her glass at the food Ali had laid out on the big coffee table. "You've got Thai, Indian, Mexican, French, Italian, Polish... food is international now, even here in America. We've been slow in catching up."

"We have?"

"Sure. We went over to England last year. When you walk around London you can get food from anywhere in the world. African places, Jamaican, Indian food on every street, and Chinese, Thai, Vietnamese... anything you want. And they're all busy. Over here you can get that variety in the cities, I bet you get it in New York. But somewhere like Denton, we're more insular. It used to be burgers, steaks, fish if you were near the coast. That's starting to change, and I want to be there for the change."

"Have you spoken about this to your Dad?"

She shrugged, and her breasts moved. Large breasts, loose inside her top, enticing. "Tried," she said. "And to be fair, I think he's tried to listen. But it's tough for him. He's successful, and he's worried if he changes things will be less successful."

I smiled. She was animated, excited. This was what she was into.

"What about you, Tom?" she asked, leaning forward and putting her glass down, reaching for a crumbed stick of chicken and dipping it into a spicy sauce.

"Me? I paint and draw. That's what I do."

"Is he any good?" Crystal looked to Ali.

"He is," Ali said. "He's very good."

"It was never my thing," Crystal said. "Film, yeah, photographs, yeah, but drawing, I could never get my head around that."

"Can I draw you?" I asked. "Let me try and convert you."

"Sure. If you want."

"Now?"

She frowned. "Here?"

"Sure. Wait there." I got up and ran upstairs, found my sketch pad and brought it down together with a handful of charcoal and pencils.

"Do I have to, like, pose or anything?" Crystal asked, unconsciously pushing her chest out.

"Just relax, carry on talking. I'll sit here and watch, see what comes out."

"Well..." she tried to relax back into the couch, but her shoulders were still tense. Her hair was loose. She had cut it since school and now wore it short, white blonde, feathered around her face, cur above her ears, tapered at the nape of her neck.

"So what about you, Crystal?" I asked. "You said you don't see Mike anymore. There must be someone else around."

She shrugged. "No one special. To be honest I'm kind of between relationships. I'm just tired of the same old, know what I mean?"

"Not really."

"It's OK, staying around Denton, but it does mean there's a limited pool of people. It's not a city, is it, and folks tend to stick around. I got tired of the jock scene, tried looking around, but all the clever guys move away, like you. And the clever guys that are still around, well... you remember Donny Hughes? Computer geek of the century?"

I laughed, nodded. "Is he still fat?"

"Fatter," she said, returning my laugh.

"You could always try girls," I said, "Ali does."

Crystal looked at me, her mouth parted in... what.... shock? Surprise? Something else?

"It happens," I said. "And from what Al tells me, it's fun too."

Crystal glanced at Ali. I watched her, waiting to see if she would move away, but she stayed where she was.

"You must have thought about it," I said.

"Why? Have you?"

"Thought about girls? All the time."

"Men, dork," she said. "You ever thought about other men like that?"

I shook my head. "I haven't."

"Never?"

"Not so's I can recall."

"Why not?"

"I like girls," I said. "Simple as that. So have you?"

"Thought about men?"

"Girls," I said.

"That's pretty personal," Crystal said. She leaned forward and picked up her wine glass, but took only the smallest sip before placing it back on the table.

"I was curious, that's all. And I thought... I don't know, maybe we could talk about things like this now?"

"Why now?" Crystal said. Her voice was quiet, and I couldn't tell if I was pushing her too far.

"Well... we're not in High school now, are we. We're young adults. We probably think about these things a bit more. Back then it was all hormones and testosterone. Now we need to find out what we want out of life. Find out and go for it."

"I guess," Crystal said. She reached for another piece of food, tried a different dip.

The sketch was going well. I was tracing out her head, shoulders, body to the waist. Her face was half finished, her body just a wash. I continued drawing and Crystal turned to Ali.

"When did you know you were... you know... a lesbian?"

"From about twelve. But I did nothing about it till I was nineteen."

"Have you..." Crystal started, then shook her head.

"It's OK. Ask," Ali said, and put her hand briefly on Crystal's leg then lifted it away. "You can ask me anything you want." She laughed. "Tom does, all the time."

"He does? And do you tell him?"

"Sure."

Crystal looked at me. "And what about you, Tom? What do you think about Alison?"

"I love her," I said, and saw Alison smile. "She's my cousin. We're really close."

"But... doesn't it turn you on, like, to hear her tell you things?"

"Sure it does," I said, fleshing out her neck and cleavage. The small tank top revealed a great deal of her upper breasts. I could see her nipples peaking the material, and thought if she stretched and arched her back they might pop out the top.

"And you don't mind that?" Crystal asked, turning back to Ali.

"Turns me on too. I might not be into guys, but Tom's like a brother to me."

"I got a brother," Crystal said, "But I sure don't tell him about my sex life."

"Not brother then," Ali said. "Maybe closer than that. We're best friends, yeah?" Ali looked at me and I nodded.

"Best friends in the world."

"Wow..." Crystal said. "I feel a bit redundant here."

Ali laughed and put her hand back on Crystal's leg. "Don't," she said. "I've only known you since last night, but I really like you. You're not a dumb blonde, are you. I like you a lot." Ali leaned over and pecked Crystal on the cheek. Crystal blushed and looked down. I think I saw her nipples stiffen further, straining against the tight cotton top.

Crystal picked up her wine and took a longer sip. She had emptied maybe a quarter of the glass, no more.

"Is it warm in here, or is it me?" she asked.

"It is warm," I said. "I'm afraid we don't have air."

"It's fine," she said, and seemed to relax a little, leaning back into the deep cushions behind her.

I used charcoal to add shade, smearing it with my finger and thumb.

"Finished," I said. "Do you want to see?"

"Sure." Crystal sat up, stood easily and took four steps across to my chair. She perched on the arm and leaned over, looking at the drawing. Her long thigh was pressed against my forearm, her firm breast against my shoulder. I could smell soap and a faint scent underlying it, something else, the raw scent of Crystal. Very lightly, I let my fingertips brush against her outer thigh where it lay beside me.

"It's only quick," I said.

"It's... do I really look like that, Tom?" She leaned closer, and I felt the stiff nub of her nipple press against my upper arm. I continued to stroke her leg, increasing the range of my fingers.

I looked at the drawing, up at Crystal. Ali stood and came around to my other side.

"He's caught you perfectly," she said.

"But I look... I look beautiful."

"You are, Crystal. You know that."

"Oh yeah, I know I'm pretty. I can tell from guy's reactions I'm that. But this makes me look more than pretty."

"You are more than pretty," I said.

"Get away," Crystal said. Then," Can I have it? To keep?"

"It's yours," I said, and tore the sheet off the pad. "If you want I'll mount it for you."

"Mount it?" Crystal sounded shocked, and I wondered if she misinterpreted me.

"Yeah. Mount it in a frame. You can hang it on your bedroom wall."

"You can do that?"

"Sure."

"OK, yeah" she nodded, then leaned across and kissed me on the cheek. Then I moved my head slightly, and she didn't pull away, her face still really close to mine, and I waited and she moved closer and I kissed her lips. It felt as good as I'd imagined. Our kiss lingered, and then she pulled away.

"Whoa," she said, sitting back, her face flushed, and she looked across me to Ali sitting on the other arm of my chair and there was something in her eyes I couldn't interpret.

"Too fast?" I asked. "I've wanted to do that for years."

"No, it's OK Tom. Me too. With you, that is," but she also glanced at Ali and I wondered what was going through her mind.

I looked at her, stunned at how beautiful she was, stunned that she didn't really know it, and said, "I'd like to kiss you again. Is that allowed?"

She nipped her bottom lip between her teeth and gave an almost imperceptible nod. "I'd like that a lot."

"You wanna, you know, get a bit more comfortable? Al, can we have the sofa?"

Ali got up and gestured. "Be my guest. I'll just mooch around, play the wallflower."

Crystal laughed softly. "You're never going to be a wallflower, Alison, and you know it."

Ali laughed back. "Okay then. I'll get Tom's video camera and film you two making out then." She said it lightly, but I felt a deepening of the sexual tension in the air.

"Sure," Crystal said, suddenly her shyness evaporating. "That's cool with me."

"It is?" I said.

Crystal sat back on the sofa and I sat beside her. I felt a little at a loss how to start, but she shuffled across to me and put her hand behind my neck and pulled me down against her mouth.

We kissed for a long time, exploring each other, and then gradually Crystal began to lean back and I began to lean over and pretty soon she was on her back and I was lying half on top of her.

We stopped kissing for a while and adjusted our position so we were more comfortable. Crystal lifted one leg and place it back against the cushions. I lay between her legs, using my arms to take most of my weight.

"This is nice," I said, my hand lightly touching her thigh.

"Mm," Crystal said.

I could see that Ali had fetched my camera and was indeed filming us.

"Just say if you want that nosy bitch to stop," I said.

Crystal looked at Ali. "It's all good," she said.

I laughed. "You're getting off on this, aren't you," I said.

She bit her lip again in that sexy way she had. "Whatever makes you think that?"

I lifted my hand, touched her belly, then touched her breast.

"Your nipples are quite hard," I said.

"Mm-hm," Crystal said. "That's nice, when you touch them like that."

"Can I take your top off?"

She nodded and lifted her arms and I slid the tiny tank top up and over her head. Crystal lay back, her large breasts now exposed. Even lying back they were firm, hardly sagging at all. Her nipples were long, dark pink, her areola a much darker brown, and equally large, the size of a silver dollar.

I touched them again and she arched her back and sighed. "Feels even better when you do that," she said.

I lowered my head and sucked a nipple into my mouth, sucked it in and out, working it between my lips, flicking it with my tongue and then nipping it gently between my teeth.

"Ooh, you've done that before, Tom."

"Couple of times," I admitted.

Ali was still in the chair, the camera to her eye, and I saw her adjust the zoom. I returned to Crystal's breasts.

Her hands slid up under my tee shirt, stroked my back, searched round to my belly, moved up and found my nipples. I was sensitive there too and she played with them. Then she tugged, wanting my shirt off and I sat up and pulled it over my shoulders and tossed it aside. Crystal laid her hand flat on my belly and looked up at me.

"Are you going to fuck me, Tom?"

I nodded. "I was thinking about that."

"Me too," she said.

I glanced at Ali, and she took knew what I meant.

"It's cool," she said.

"Really?"

She nodded.

I kissed Crystal, lightly.

"I want to lick your pussy and make to cum, Crystal," I said.

"Sounds like a plan," she said.

I slipped my fingers into the waist of her tiny shorts and began to work them down. As they slid down her pussy came into view and I realized she had no panties on. I raised my eyebrows in a question.

"I didn't think I was gonna need any, Tom," she said.

I grinned. "And then, after I've licked your pussy, I'm going to fuck you and make you cum again."

"The plan gets better and better," she said.

"And then," I said, pulling at her earlobe with my lips, whispering to her, "I thought I might see if Ali wanted to make you cum as well."

I felt Crystal shiver against me. "What makes you think I might want her to do that?"

I kissed her neck. "If you don't want Ali to do that, you have to say no now, Crystal."

"Now?"

"Right now," I said. "If you don't say no, I'm going to let Ali fuck you."

I pushed my fingers down onto her pussy and slid them inside. She was dripping wet, hot and welcoming, and I slid them in and out and she rolled her head to one side and drew in her breath sharply.

"How long do I have, to say no?" she asked, between breaths.

"Until I put my tongue where my fingers are," I said.

"Ooh..."

I kissed her ear, turned her head and kissed her mouth, then worked my way down to her breasts, continued along her belly. I reached her navel and stopped.

"Still thinking about it?" I asked.

"About what?" she said. Her hands were on my shoulders, encouraging me.

I smiled. "Ali's going to love making you cum. Are you going to lick her pussy too?"

"I've never done anything like that," Crystal said.

"Don't worry. It's not difficult," I said, and moved on, then demonstrated how easy it was.

Crystal gave a deep moan and lifted her long legs and wrapped them over my shoulders. Her fingers tangled in my hair, pushing my face against her, and I could tell she was going to cum fast.

I caught a movement and saw that Ali had come across. She knelt against the sofa and reached her hands to Crystal's breasts and began to stroke them. When Crystal offered no objection she leaned forward and started to use her mouth as well.

Crystal groaned. Her hips were pushing up onto my mouth. My tongue was slicked with her juices, and I placed a finger against her hard little clitoris and rubbed it.

Crystal bucked and cried out and I felt her belly trembling against my arm, felt her jerk upwards and she yelled again and came against my mouth, came hard, jerking and shaking, her legs gripping me tighter, her thighs cradling my head.

As she started to relax I sat back and watched as Ali kissed her. Ali put her hands either side of Crystal's face and placed her lips gently on the younger girls. Even though Crystal had her eyes closed she knew who was doing the kissing. She seemed to hesitate, but only for a moment, as if she wanted to make sure that it was pleasurable, and then I saw her respond, kissing Ali back.

I needed to release my aching cock. I stood and dropped my pants, pulled my shorts down and lay back beside Crystal. I put my cock against her pussy, pulled her right leg open and slid inside her.

She made a muffled "Mmph," sound, her mouth still on Ali's, as I entered her.

I began to work slowly against her. At the same time I reached over and put my hand on Ali's thigh, lifting her dress and finding her sheer panties. I wanted to touch her, didn't know if I would be allowed, but wanting to touch her so badly I couldn't resist.

My fingers brushed the gusset of her panties, felt them damp, and I pressed against her, feeling her respond, her hips moving so her silk encased pussy rocked against my fingers.




Ali's Art Ch. 12



Ali stopped kissing Crystal and sat back, my hand pulling away as she moved.

"I don't believe this," Crystal gasped. "I'm being fucked by both of you. Oh my God, this is amazing."

I was still fucking her, and Ali turned to watch my cock stroking into Crystal's tight pussy.

Then she looked up at me.

"You going to stay dressed all night," I said to her, "Or get naked like the rest of us?"

Ali's color was high, her chest and neck bright pink.

"I think I'm going to get naked," she said.

"God yeah," Crystal said. "I want to lick your pussy, Ali."

The girl was a quick learner.

Ali stood and unzipped her dress, let it fall and tossed it on the chair. She unclipped her bra and tossed that as well, pulled her panties down and then stood, naked.

Crystal reached for her, could not quite reach.

Alison took two steps forward so she was against the sofa, and Crystal slid her hand up Ali's leg and pushed her fingers into Ali's pussy.

I heard Ali gasp, and saw her head jerk back.

Crystal worked her fingers rapidly inside Ali', then pulled them out and licked Ali's juices off them.

"You sure you've never done this before?" Ali said, and Crystal giggled.

"I want to lick your pussy," Crystal said.

Ali grinned. "That's a tough call." 

She turned and stepped onto the sofa, knelt over Crystal's breasts and walked her way up until her pussy was offered.

Crystal lifted her head and I shifted position because I wanted to watch this, but most of Ali was in the way, and I couldn't see what was going on.

I pulled my cock out and rolled around so I could watch as Crystal pushed out her tongue and met Ali's pussy. I saw Crystal's tongue part Ali, saw it seek inside.

Then Crystal turned her head and said, "Don't stop fucking me, Tom."

"I want to see," I said, leaning on the arm of the sofa.

Ali lifted herself up and changed position, turning so she was facing down along Crystal's body now. She lowered her pussy back onto Crystal's mouth, none of us holding back now.

Ali looked into my eyes. "Now you can fuck and watch," she said.

I couldn't help myself. I kissed Ali. She responded, and I dropped a hand to her breast and cupped it. She let me kiss her for a minute before pushing me away.

"Enough, Tom. We don't do that. Fuck her. I want to watch you fuck her."

I moved back between Crystal's legs, made sure I entered her slowly, turned on to see Ali watching as my cock sank between Crystal's full pussy lips.

I rolled Crystal's breasts, pumped hard into her, watched as Crystal's tongue opened Ali's pussy and flickered inside.

Ali was breathing hard, her one arm gripping the back of the sofa, the other awkward on the arm.

I reached up, took her hand and laid it on my shoulder. She looked at me, then took her other hand and put that on my shoulder as well. I did the same, so we were leaning against each other, supporting each other. I looked down and Crystal was almost buried and I hoped she could breathe.

"Tom," Ali gasped, shaking her head.

I looked at her.

"Oh fuck, Tom, kiss me again, please?"

I leaned forward and she tilted her head, and I think for the first ever time we kissed as though we meant it. Ali's mouth opened, my tongue explored. Ali could taste Crystal on my mouth, and she tried to suck the taste off my lips and I knew I was not going to be able to last.

Crystal was losing control, starting to grunt and shake again.

I could feel Ali's body trembling and knew she was close as well.

Ali kissed me deeply again and she started to shiver. She bit my lip, hurting me but I was beyond caring.

I gripped her swaying breasts and pulled her nipples and she pulled her mouth away from mine. She stared into my eyes, looking deep into them as a climax rolled through her body.

I didn't know what Crystal was getting out of this, but I could see Ali was somewhere else, somewhere beyond arousal.

I didn't need to worry about Crystal, because she was bucking under me as well, cumming hard against me and I drove my cock faster inside her pussy.

She was still trembling when she gripped Ali's hips and eased her off her mouth, pushed my stomach and I slipped out of her.

"Ali, help me make him cum," she gasped.

Crystal rolled under me, onto the floor, turned back and pulled me so my legs were off the sofa. She gripped my cock and rubbed me hard, moved up and encased me inside her mouth, rubbing and sucking me at the same time.

She pulled back, looked at Ali, slid her arm around Ali's waist and pulled her in. "You want some of Tom's cock, Ali?"

Ali shook her head, but her eyes were on me.

Crystal nodded, dropped her mouth back onto me.

Ali leaned against her, kissing her shoulders and neck, then her hand came down and I felt it search for me, felt it wrap around the base of my cock and then she was rubbing me. She dropped her head so she could watch, could see as she rubbed, see as my cock was sucked between Crystal's lips.

I pushed my hips up, aching for release.

Crystal senses me approaching and lifted her head. She moved to one side, allowing Ali to slip in. They sat pressed tightly against each other, both their hands on my cock, both rubbing me hard. Crystal dipped down and stroked her breasts with my cock, pushed Ali down and rubbed me against Ali's nipples.

Crystal licked me, then sat back. Her face had a frown of concentration, and she stared at my cock, watching me as I lifted my hips again and grunted, "Oh fuck!" as I shot an unbelievable, single jet of cum harder than I ever had before and it splashed onto Crystal's breasts and Crystal pointed me and my second jet splashed onto Ali's and then Crystal dropped her mouth and took the rest inside and swallowed it all.

I was shaking with lust, unable to believe what had happened, when Crystal slid me from her mouth and turned and kissed Ali. I could see my cum slicking Crystal's lips, could see it transfer to Ali's, and I watched, knowing that when Ali had kissed me she had been able to taste Crystal's pussy, and now she would be tasting my cock and I trembled, aching to cum again, still rock hard.

Crystal nipped Ali's lower lip and turned to me. "You gonna fuck Ali now, Tom?"

I shook my head, glanced at Ali. "We don't," I said.

"Not even now?" Crystal said.

I shook my head again, waiting for Ali to agree with me, to make it easier.

"Why not?"

"We just don't," I said.

"Shoot," Crystal said. Then, "How about a pretend fuck?"

"I don't follow."

Crystal lay on her back on the carpet, her legs parted. She grabbed Ali and tugged her, pulling her over her body. Crystal knew exactly what she wanted, guided Ali so she was astride her hips, their breasts pressing together.

"How about this, Tom. You fuck me, but it's like your fucking Ali."

I looked at Ali, who was looking back around her shoulder at me, still not helping.

I nodded, lay between their entwined legs, not sure which piece of skin belonged to who, and pushed my still hard cock directly into Crystal's tight pussy. My belly pressed flat against Ali's ass.

"Yeah, Tom, like that," Crystal said.

I leaned forward around Ali's shoulder and kissed Crystal, pulled back, kissed Ali's back and neck.

I started to rock, and each time I pushed forward my belly slapped against Ali's ass. She lifted herself, trying to open wider to me, almost as if she wanted me to fuck her and the temptation was so strong to slip out of Crystal and fuck my cousin.

Crystal reached down and started to work her fingers inside Ali, rubbed her clit, and now when my belly slapped it was sometimes on Ali's pussy and sometimes on Crystals hand.

"Fuck her," Crystal grunted, and I looked at her, but mostly at Ali, and plunged hard into Crystal's pussy, but I was looking at Ali, and it felt, almost, like I was fucking her, and I felt bad, like I had betrayed her, but it felt fucking wonderful as well and I couldn't stop and for once, didn't want to or try to, didn't hold back, and I could see they were out of control too. I grabbed Ali around the waist, driving hard into Crystal, pulling Ali back against me and it happened so fast I wasn't ready. I cried out, cumming again, inside Crystal, inside Ali, I couldn't tell who, didn't care, beyond restraint.

Crystal stayed over, all three of us sleeping together in Mom's bed, and in the morning I fucked Crystal from behind while she licked Ali's pussy and we all three came together and then Ali went downstairs, and after ten minutes I left Crystal dozing and followed her.

Ali was sitting at the kitchen table crying.

I pulled up a chair and sat beside her, put my hand on her arm and she shook me off.

"Al," I said. "What's wrong?"

She looked at me. "You know what's wrong, Tom. I wanted you to fuck me so much last night. You could have fucked me."

I stared at her. "But I didn't," I said.

"Why not?"

"You know why."

She shook her head wildly, her long hair flying. "No. I don't. I used to know why, I think I did, but I don't anymore. I'm going back to New York, Tom. I can't stay here."

"No," I said. "You can't go."

"And I can't stay," she said. "If I stay we both know what's going to happen, and I love you too much to spoil it by letting us fuck."

I put my arms around her, pulled her head onto my shoulder, and when she resisted I didn't let her and eventually she relaxed but started to sob more loudly.

"I love you so much, Tom," she said, her arms around my shoulders.

"I love to too, Ali. More than I can say."

"This is fucked up," she said.

"And some."

"I don't need this," she said. "I don't want to want you so much. I need some time. Need some time to think."

"I can't..." I started, and knew I was crying as well. "I can't lose you, Al," I said.

"I don't want to lose you either," she gasped. She lifted her head and kissed me, our lips wet with our tears.

"No," I said. "I mean it. I can't lose you, Al. I just can't imagine not being with you. Even it it means a lifetime of frustration. Even if it means never touching you again, never looking at your beautiful naked body, I'll do that. But I can't lose you, Al, I can't."

She kissed me again, her face sad. "You won't lose me, Tom. That's not an option."

She sat back, pushed me away and wiped her face on the sleeve of her robe.

"I'm going to book a flight. You stay here, stay with Crystal and fuck her. She's wild, isn't she?"

I tried to smile. "And some," I agreed.

Ali nodded. "Stay here, see your Mom and Sarah, come back next week and we'll start over. Start again. New ground rules."

I nodded. "Anything you want, Al. You know that. Anything at all."

Ali shook her head. "Not anything I want. Because, right now, I want you. But I'll get some new rules, and next week we start again, good boys and girls, no more teasing, no more messing around."

"Wow," I said. "Close call, Al."

"Too fucking right," she said.



Ali's Art Ch. 13



SUNDAY JUNE 24th

The short flight between BWI and Newark brought me in late afternoon and I rode the monorail and train into the city. I was feeling nervous, but looking forward to seeing Ali again. It had been five long days since she returned to New York without me. Five days when I missed her more than I believed possible. Five days when I had thought hard about what I had done to upset her and what I could have done differently and why I hadn't been more aware of her feelings. 

I was desperate to patch things up between us, if that was still possible. I was willing to go along with any rules she wanted to impose. But I couldn't imagine living without her. Couldn't imagine not living with her. My head span with the possibilities and dangers.

As soon as I opened the apartment door I knew Ali was gone. Not just her absence from the space, the absence of her presence.

I dropped my bag and went to her room. As soon as I opened the door her scent hit me, the raw essence of Ali, all the parts that made it up, the perfume she wore lightly dabbed along her neck, the soap and shampoo she used, the smell of her clothes and, most of all, that thing that made me hard every time I caught a hint of it, the animal smell of Ali, underlying everything, her womanhood, her being.

I lifted the pillow from her bed and breathed deeply but she was not there.

I opened her closet and the scent was strong, but there were gaps on the hangers offering proof of her absence.

I walked out, turned around, lost. Some drawings were propped up in the work space and I went to them. She had started but not finished a dozen sketches, these not modelled from life. Their lines had been laid down fast and roughly, even then they captured a vibrancy I was still unable to match.

Ali was shown in the drawings... so was I... and my heart made odd patterings in my chest as I studied them. These were the real thing. Raw. Alive. Oozing sex onto the paper and from it directly to my solar plexus. I was immediately hard. 

Every sketch showed what I had wanted to be doing since the moment I moved in with Ali. No - since the moment I grew old enough to know that women were different to men and what they could do with each other. I had always wanted her, always been afraid of scaring her off.

The images shouted for attention, demanding I look at them, my cock hard inside Ali's mouth, in her hands, between her breasts. Ali on her back as I mounted her. Ali on her knees... as I entered her from behind... as my cock parted the tight ring of her ass... her face a few quick strokes that caught the ecstacy she was feeling as I entered her.

I slumped back on the old sofa we had carried from her old apartment, the two of us laughing as we struggled up the stairs with it, and stared at nothing. I had no idea where Ali might have gone - she could be anywhere at all. I remembered our conversations as the summer approached, talk of going away together, to Europe maybe. Ali wanted to see, to stand in front of, some of the great paintings of the world. We had spent hours in the museums in New York, but there were things we both wanted to see that meant skipping east across the Atlantic. Was that where she had gone?

I stood up, meaning to get myself a beer even though I didn't need or want one, when I saw Ali's Apple, the lid raised.

I changed direction and sat at her workspace, turned the laptop on. 

A password screen presented itself. Shit.

I sat, looking at the blinking cursor, trying to think.

I got up and walked around, stood looking out the window as the light faded and street lights came on all down the hillside.

I returned to the computer and typed in: aligrah.

Too simple. I knew it would be.

I walked around some more. Then I remembered Ali telling me how she had always had a crush on my Mom.

I went back and tried again: HeatherGraham, then heathergraham. No luck.

I stared at the wall, stared at the flashing cursor, wondered if there was a lockout built in that would turn everything off if I got too many wrong guesses.

I tried #eathergra#am, replacing the H with the # key. Nothing.

Fuck it. I got up and fetched that beer, now both wanting and needing it. It wasn't really progress, or if it was it was the wrong sort.

I tried again, this time my heart fluttering as I typed: TomGraham... but the computer gave a sad beep and the cursor continued flashing.

OK, again: tomgraham. No.

Then: t0m_gra#am. My finger was shaking as I hit Enter.

The beep was different this time and the screen refreshed to show Ali's desktop.

Shit, I thought. I was Ali's password.

I put my beer down and opened Safari. Google came up, and I saw Ali's gmail account was still logged in. I opened her mail, and there it all was.

At the top was a notification from her bank that a withdrawal greater than $500 had been made from her account. Duh.

Four down was an email from Delta confirming a flight to Rome. The date was three days earlier. She had been in the air above the Atlantic, carried to Italy, while I had been house sitting and wondering if I was going to call Crystal and ask her over again. That brief, wild bout of sex no longer seemed a fair exchange to me, and I realized there was only one woman I wanted, only one woman I had ever wanted. And she was in Italy, four thousand miles away.

I returned to google and idly looked up international times, saw it was now after midnight in Rome. Would Ali be asleep, or still out around town? Would she be alone? Would there be a beautiful dark haired Italian woman sharing her bed?

I clicked on Ali's bookmarks, scanned down through them, found her banking details and clicked it.

The log in screen appeared.

I tried the same password and was allowed entry. I would have to tell her about that. But then, if I did, she would know I had been searching through her private files.

I clicked on recent transactions. There was the payment for her flight, and it looked like she had flown Business class. Then, a transaction for a hotel, a restaurant, some minor charges, one withdrawal of €600 from a cash point in Rome.

I made a note of the name of the hotel, logged out of her account and went across to my own laptop.

There were no direct flights to Rome until eight the following evening, but I found I could catch a flight out of JFK at 4 a.m. which would take me to London, then a connection to Rome with only an hour layover. I booked both flights, one way, closed my laptop and went to pack.

When I was ready I sat down and called Ali's cellphone. It rang seven times then went to voicemail.

"Al, it's me. We need to talk. You know we do. Call me."

I hung up, got another beer and drank it, then called Ali's phone again. This time it went straight to voicemail - her phone was turned off.

I tried again, same result.

I knew I should try and sleep and went through to the bedroom, but I had just stripped off my shirt when there was a knock at the door.

I went out, peered through the spyhole to see Sandy standing outside. I opened the door and she grinned, came in and kissed me on the mouth.

"Good vacation, Tom? Is Al around, I really need to talk to both of you."

"She's not here," I said.

Sandy walked past me, sliding her arm around my waist as she went, letting is slip off me as she moved on. Under other circumstances I would be wondering how long before I had my cock inside her, but tonight that didn't seem important.

"Will she be back soon? Something's come up, and you both need to talk it through."

I turned and followed her. She walked to the fridge and got herself a beer, popped the cap and took a mouthfull, her long neck working as she swallowed.

"She's... uh, she's gone... I don't know when she'll be back."

"Gone?"

I nodded.

Sandy studied me. "You two had a fight, Tom?"

"I don't know," I said, and heard my voice break a little. Sandy heard it too and came across to me, drew me into a hug.

"Tom... that's not possible... you two are so meant for each other, you know that."

I tried to laugh. "Yeah. Me and a raging dyke."

Sandy hugged me tighter. "No - yeah, OK, I know she likes girls, but I've seen the way she looks at you, the way she acts around you. The way you act around her, too. You two are gonna be a couple one day. You already are, you just don't know it yet." 

"She's gone, Sand," I said, and my tears came now, great sobs shaking my chest and I put my face down into her hair and let it all go.

She held me, stroking my shoulders, murmuring nothing as I let the emotion out. I hadn't been aware of how tight I had been holding everything inside, how much I had been holding back.

Finally I stopped and stood back, looking down at Sandy's beautiful face.

I wiped my arms across my eyes, sniffed.

"Sorry, Sand, this isn't what you need."

Her face looked so sad it almost started me off again.

"You love her so much," she said, and I could only nod, not trusting myself to speak. Then she smiled. "But it's OK, Tom, because she loves you like that too. Don't you see it? Doesn't Ali see it?"

I shook me head. "I don't know."

Sandy led me across to the sofa and sat beside me. "Tell me what happened..."

So I did. I told her about the wedding, about our night in the boutique hotel (most of it), about our time in my old house, about Candy, about some of what went on with the three of us. Sandy sat holding my hand, listening patiently, and when I had finished she sighed deeply.

"You two were going to do it eventually," she said. "This has just brought it on faster. I guess she was ready a little before you. Or she was ready and you were distracted with this Candy. Men," Sandy said. "Sometimes you're so fucking dense!"

"I've been ready for years, Sandy. Ready for her since... I don't know, it seems like since for ever."

"And she has been too, I think. Why the fuck didn't you just jump on each other straight away I don't know."

"I've fucked it up, Sand. God, I've fucked it up so much."

She shook her head. "No. She'll come back. She can't stay away."

"I know where she is," I said.

"You do?"

"She's in Rome. I found her flight confirmation, I even know where she's staying. I'm booked on a flight in..." I glanced at the clock, "In five hours. I'm going to find her."

"Good." Sandy squeezed my hand. "Are you OK, Tom? Do you want me to stay?"

I laughed softly. "Not a good idea, Sand. Not right now. Thanks though."

She shrugged as though it meant nothing.

"You wanted something," I said. "What did you come here for?"

"I don't know what to do now," she said. "I've got this stuff..." She reached into her bag and pulled out a large envelope, held it as though she didn't know whether to give it to me or not.

"What stuff?" I asked.

"I'm not sure you're in the mood for this, Tom. It's business stuff. Important business stuff. And it needs the two of you."

I laid back against the cushions. "Tell me anyway, Sand. I need to think about something else."

She looked at me, her bright blue eyes probing, then handed me the envelope.

"You've had an offer for the website business, Tom. A good offer. A very good offer."

"Offer?" The words went past me, devoid of meaning.

"Someone wants to buy it. In fact, there are three separate offers. I've been dealing with them with Tu all week, playing one off against the other."

I pulled some papers out of the envelope, stared at them blankly.

"I thought you said this might happen in a couple of years. Why so soon?"

"We've been growing real fast, Tom. You know that. Fast growth gets noticed out there."

She started to pull papers out of the pack but I shook my head. I couldn't cope with this now.

Give me the bullet points, Sand."

"OK. There's only one that matters. Fifteen million dollars."

I stared at her. "What?"

"Fifteen million dollars. That's the offer you have in your hands. For the website. It's a good offer, Tom, and you and Al will still be involved if you want. They want you to continue producing work, but they have big plans..." She stared at me. "Could you let it go?"

I stared back. "Sell it?"

She nodded.

"For fifteen mill?"

She nodded again.

"What's your share, Sand?" I asked.

"Seven-fifty thou," she said. "For each of us. Jack and I come out with one and a half million. You and Ali would walk away with six mill each."

"Fuck... I guess you two could stop saving for that house."

"It's a good offer, Tom. A very good offer."

"What should I do, Sandy?"

She looked at me. "I can't tell you what to do, Tom. You really do need to talk about this with Ali. I can't decide for you."

"Would you take it?"

"If it was me, in your situation, yes."

"And if we said no, you and Jack and Tim and Tu get nothing."

"We'd still get paid. But no, we get nothing."

"I don't want that, Sand." I looked at the paper in my hand. "What do I have to do with these?"

She took them from me gently. "These are mostly terms, details of the deal. All you really need to do is sign on the last page of each prospectus." She flipped one copy open and found the last page, turned it for me to see. "The rest of us have signed, but it needs both you and Ali to agree as well." 

I saw their signatures were already inked in, dark blue ink from a fountain pen. There was space for my signature, and Ali's.

"You need to sign both copies and get them back here... within ten days."

"Ten days," I said.

"From last Friday," she said.

"So I've got until..." I couldn't work it out, my head felt like it was full of fudge.

"Until Tuesday July 3rd. You have to have these signed and back here before the holiday."

"Of fuck..." I looked around, searching for something, anything that would help me make a decision. There was only Sandy. "What do I do?"

"Find Ali," she said.

I nodded. It made sense.

"And if she's still pissed at me?"

"Just tell her about the offer. This is business, Tom, not love. Tell her about it and decide what you both want."

"God, I need to sleep," I said. "I'm catching a plane in a few hours, and I can't think."

"Sleep then," she said. "I'll stay until you have to go."

"It's OK," I said. "You don't have to do that."

She laughed. "Jack knows I'm coming here. He's not expecting me back till the morning. I expected you and Al to be home. I expected to get myself deliciously fucked again."

"I'm sorry," I said. "I don't think I can..."

Sandy laughed again. "I don't expect you to. But I'd like to stay, so you're not on your own. Is that OK, Tom?"

I looked at her. "Thanks, Sandy."

We lay beside each other in my bed, both naked, holding each other, and I was surprised to find that my cock behaved itself. Sandy's soft skin slid against mine as she moved beside me. We kissed a little, then she cradled me in her arms as I tried to sleep.

At two a.m. I was still awake. Sandy was breathing deeply, and I slid quietly from the bed and tiptoed through to the living room.

My bag was already packed. I opened the top and slipped in the papers and Ali's laptop.

I dressed and left without going back into the bedroom.

MONDAY JUNE 25th

A yellow cab took me to JFK and I picked up my ticket, checked in and cleared security quickly.

At four-ten we left the ground. At five sunrise flooded the windows and I pulled the shade down, lowered my seat and slept for a couple of hours until the stewardess woke me for breakfast.

I landed in London at ten New York time, four p.m. London time, and by five I was in the air again heading for Rome.

Again the time changed, and by the time a cab drove me through narrow streets and dropped me outside the hotel I last knew Ali was in the time was after ten p.m. I had spent almost the entire day high in the air, had slept hardly at all in the last thirty-six hours and was dead on my feet. Despite my anxiety, I knew it was not the right time to see Ali.

As I approached the reception desk a young woman looked up at me and smiled, said in perfect English, "Can I help you, sir?"

I guess I looked American.

"I know it's late," I said, "But do you have a room for tonight?"

"A moment, please?" She consulted a screen below the desk, tapped at keys, then looked up, smile in place. "We have a vacancy. For one night only?"

"It may be longer. I'm not sure yet."

"That's perfectly fine, sir. You can let me know in the morning if you wish to extend your stay. If I could have you credit card and passport, please?"

I handed them over, not caring how much the room cost.

I saw her look at the passport, look up at me. My stomach fluttered. She recognized the name, I knew she did. I should ask have asked her then, but I didn't. Instead I waited, exhausted, as she swiped my card, recorded my details, and handed me a key card.

"Enjoy your stay, Mr. Graham. I'm afraid the restaurant is closed at this time, but you can call for room service until midnight."

I thanked her and took the elevator to my room.

I was hungry, but didn't call down. Instead I stripped and showered and lay on top of the bed. After a moment I got up and opened the windows to let the sound of the night drift in, lay back down and drifted off to the sound of footsteps on the cobbled square below, and soft voices speaking Italian.

TUESDAY JUNE 26th

I woke late, bars of sunlight split by the closed shutters forming horizontal lines across the floor and the foot of the bed. My feet felt warm where the sun fell across them and I rolled out of bed, showered and dressed in the only clothes I had with me, the ones I had taken off the night before. First thing I needed to do was buy more, a bag, and then track Ali down.

It was gone 11 by the time I made it down to the reception desk. The same pretty girl as the night before was still on duty and smiled at me as I approached, her white teeth perfect against olive skin.

"I believe a relation of mine is staying here," I said. "Alison Graham. Would it be possible to put me through to her room?"

Fingers tapped on keys, her eyes downcast at a hidden screen. Her brows pulled together in a frown, her mouth turning down.

"Miss Graham. Si. She arrived five days ago, but I am afraid she checked out early this morning."

"This morning?" I said.

The receptionist nodded, her expression seeming to say if she could do anything to change the situation she would.

"Did she leave any forwarding address?"

"Let me check..." her fingers flew again. "I am sorry, no, nothing."

She was good. I believed her completely.

I thanked her and instead of leaving to shop as I had planned I returned to my room and booted up the laptop. I had written all of Ali's details down.

I had to phone downstairs for the wi-fi login, then opened Ali's bank account.

There was a transaction from the previous day showing she had eaten in a restaurant in Rome. Nothing yet for today. My body trembled with frustration, and no matter how much I told myself I had to wait I wanted to rush off, to do something, even if it was pointless.

I logged off and made myself leave the hotel. I spent until 1 a.m. shopping. I bought new shirts, pants, underwear, bathroom kit and a wheeled suitcase to pack it all in. I would have shopped for longer, distracting myself from my worries, but at one o'clock the shops began to close. The cafes and restaurants filled up, but all the shops turned over signs that said "torna alle 4 p.m." so I stopped at a cafe on a small square and ordered beer and pasta that I failed to taste.

Later I took my new purchases back to the hotel, smiled at the receptionist and once in my room turned the laptop back on.

Signals bounced from Rome to a server somewhere in the States, found information and bounced the answer back to me.

There were three new transactions on Ali's account. The first showed her checking out of the hotel. The second was for a hire car, the third for gas, only an hour ago at a service station south of Rome.




Ali's Art Ch. 13



I pulled up google maps and typed in the gas station town. It was in Capua, a small town just off the A1 highway linking Rome to Napoli. Was that her destination, or would she be traveling on, further down Italy, maybe to Sicily?

Ali's bank details were still open in another tab and I hit F5 to refresh them. Maybe it was meant to be, it sure felt that way, as a new transaction came up showing a charge to a new hotel. I opened another tab and typed in Hotel Miramare Napoli and a website came up. I skipped the intro and watched as a scrolling view displayed a plush reception area before being replaced by the dining room, terraces and bedrooms.

There was a link for online reservations and I clicked it and booked a room.

The receptionist was really good at her job and looked genuinely sad that I was leaving so soon.

I felt myself following in Ali's footsteps as I booked a car and then drove through Rome to pick up the highway south.

This time I would not make the same mistake.

It took me three hours to reach the hotel on the sea front, another fifteen to find somewhere to park and check in.

This time it was a man, dark suited and dark haired, whose English was as perfect as mine, maybe better.

"I'm hoping you can help me," I said. "I believe my cousin is staying with you. Alison Graham? Would it be possible to put me through to her room?"

He glanced down at his own computer screen, made a good show of masking his surprise.

"We have a reservation for a Signora Graham, but it appears she has not checked in yet. Would you like me to call you when she arrives?"

I felt my shoulders relax. "Great. Just call my room."

He nodded. "Certainly, Signore. Would you like a porter to help with your bags?"

"I got it," I said, and lugged my new suitcase upstairs.

I had paid extra for a sea view and stood on the small balcony watching boats in the bay. The temperature was in the nineties, humid, only a soft breeze taking a faint edge off the heat.

I stripped to my shorts and lay on the bed, dozing, waiting for a call.

When I woke the light had gone from the room. I walked back onto the balcony, the cool evening air feeling good against my body. Lights glittered all along the seafront and I could hear cutlery and glasses chinking coming up from a wide terrace below me. I realized I was standing in just my shorts and stepped back into the room.

I dialled reception and asked if Signora Graham had arrived yet and was told she had not.

I opened the laptop and logged into Ali's bank account.

Two new entries showed that she had booked a ferry crossing from Napoli to Ischia, the second a payment of €4,200 translated into dollars with a terse description saying "Ischia Villas".

She had changed her mind. It was impossible for her to know I was chasing her down, but it almost seemed as though she was trying to throw me of her trail.

I swore and ran a shower, stood under the warm spray, letting the water beat against my shoulders. I leaned against the tiled wall, head down, thinking about Ali. Wondering what she was doing at that moment.

I pictured her eating in a small cafe. Pictured her swimming in night cloaked sea, sparkling phosphorescent plankton dripping of her body. Pictured her like me, standing in the shower, water cascading over her perfect body, caressing the folds and dips and secret places.

I felt myself growing hard, kept leaning against the wall, felt myself grow harder, the more I tried to ignore it the more images of Ali came to me, Ali naked, Ali semi-clothed, Ali fully clothed in the silk dress she wore at the wedding, the material clinging against her.

My cock ached, standing almost vertical, water beating against me.

On the morning Ali left the previous week I had made love with Crystal once more, then made some excuse and did not see her again. I had not had sex or made myself cum in over a week. I couldn't remember the last time that had happened. Not since moving to New York. Even when Ali was not teasing me, when Sandy was not sharing herself with me, when sweet Tu had not been around to make love with, I had jacked off at least once a day, constantly aroused at being around Ali and her friends. The thought of Ali and another beautiful woman just feet away from me was too much and I lay at night hearing the occasional gasp and cry from the other room, my cock in my hand, holding myself back until I could stand it no longer, then letting loose a torrent of semen.

I thought of Ali constantly displaying herself, deliberately showing me a breast, the side of her hip, leaning forward so her robe rose up to reveal her perfectly shaped ass, her tight, shaved pussy nestling between her thighs.

I shut the water off and stepped out of the shower, toweled myself dry, avoiding my aching erection. I lay on the bed, slightly damp, and tried to think of something else, tried to keep my hands at my sides. But all I could think of was Ali. In the hotel room after the wedding, both of us naked, sweating, Ali humping against me, pretending to fuck my ass and I had wanted her to. If she had possessed a cock at that moment I would have given myself to her completely.

I remembered Ali in the bath, draped against me, her budded asshole pressing against the head of my cock and the feeling I needed to push, knowing that she wanted me to, and I wondered why the fuck we hadn't screwed each other years ago, why we hadn't been screwing all year, because we both wanted it, both ached for each other.

A sudden image filled my mind, of when I had first arrived in New York, of Ali and Maggie naked, making love to each other on the big old sofa. Maggie's large breasts swaying. Ali lying between her legs. Maggie holding my cock the second time I returned and letting me cum over her.

I got up and turned the shower back on, swung the control hard over to cold and stepped back under, gasping at the shock, stayed there until my cock wilted and shrank. I stayed under the water a long time, shivering when I came out. 

I lay on the bed and finally slept, but my dreams were troubled and I kept waking, hearing people below, hearing boats on the water, the far distant sound of wires snapping in rigging.

WEDNESDAY JUNE 27th

The next day I took the ferry and signed into a tiny hotel in Lacco Ameno. Ischia was a small island, but Ali could be anywhere, and even a small island was enormous when I was looking for one person.

As another day slipped into evening I sat at a restaurant picking at food I didn't want to eat, drinking more wine than was good for me.

I stared at people in the square without really seeing. And then I did see. I saw Ali.

She walked across my line of sight and it could be no-one else, although at first I was confused because she had cut her hair, cut it really short. It had to be her. She was on this island. It looked like her, apart from the hair.

I stayed where I was, didn't call out, just watched as she strode across the square and took a seat in a restaurant on the other side.

I felt confident she wouldn't see me. I was tucked into a small table in a back corner, the sun would be directly into her eyes, and she was not expecting to see me.

She spoke with a waitress, drank some cold white wine and I continued to watch as she waited for her food came.

She was maybe a hundred yards from me, small with distance, but it was as if my vision was magnified. I couldn't stop watching her. My own food went ignored. My own drink untouched.

I studied her, trying to interpret her body language. She seemed relaxed, but not quite herself, not the Ali I knew, but I couldn't put my finger on the difference.

She wore a light skirt and scooped top. Her skin was pink from the sun, just starting to turn brown.

A man approached her from one of the other tables, and I watched as she expertly brushed him off.

The waitress returned and took her plate, stood chatting for a while, but Ali wasn't interested in her either.

I slipped my phone from my shirt pocket and pressed the speed dial for Al. She was too distant for me to hear, but I saw her posture change and she reached in her bag and pulled her phone out. She stared at it, obviously recognizing my number. Distance cloaked her face and I couldn't read any expression.

Her voicemal cut in, as I knew it would, and I tried to think of something I wanted to say. Thought about what Sandy had said.

"Al... I know you don't want to talk to me, and I don't really know why, but I want to tell you that I love you. Not like my ditzy lesbian cousin, either. I love you with my soul and my body. Call me. Please."

Unaware of my message, she ordered another glass of wine and sipped it slowly as the sun dropped lower. Shadows crept across the square, slowly drawing a line over the cobbles. When the line reach Ali's terrace she finished her wine and got up, left money on the table and walked back through the square.

I dropped euro notes on my table and followed her. She went down a side alley and came out into another square with parking, where she went directly to a small Fiat. It was lucky I had left my own hire car in the same square. Parking opportunities were limited.

I turned away as she drove past, then sprinted to the car and drove after her.

It was easy to follow. Her car was bright yellow and freshly washed. All the local's cars held a covering of summer dust.

She drove up through the town, weaving slowly along unfamiliar streets, then headed north west. We passed through two small villages, then started to drop down, back towards the sea.

Off to my right lay the Mediterranean, ahead dry hills, houses and villas tucked in all the flat spots.

Ali's indicator flashed and she slowed, turned down a narrow track toward the sea.

I pulled up before the turning, got out and stood beside a boulder, watching flashes of the yellow car as it took the track, its progress easy to see by the plume of dust it threw up.

She disappeared and failed to re-appear. I waited. Then I started down the track on foot.

I passed a couple of small villas, then turned where Ali had disappeared. The track rose up. At the crest the sea appeared, close, and off to the left a small villa perched almost on the water. There was no beach, no other houses, just dark blue water lapping gently as dusk merged into full night.

The windows cast light out onto the rocks and the sea.

I felt safe, protected by the dark, and walked silently down until I was almost at the water and could look back into the villa.

I saw Ali move past and my heart fluttered in my chest. For a moment it was as though she was projected on a giant screen, striding through the frame, slim and lithe, only her newly shorn hair throwing the image askew in my mind.

She disappeared, then returned to stand looking out through sliding glass doors. It felt as though she stared directly at me, her face shaded, light framing her figure, but it was almost full dark now and I knew she would see only the faint illumination out over the sea.

She stood for a long time, resting her forehead on the glass, her expression hidden. Finally she turned away and was lost from sight.

I remained where I was, waiting, but she did not reappear.

I looked around, searching in the dark for somewhere to sit, moved, feeling around, and found a curved rock set into a small cliff face. I settled into it, finding the warm rock comfortable, cradling my back and shoulders. I laid my head back and looked up at the sky, deep violet, scattered with bright stars. Staring upwards the top of the cliff cut my view to the east, but a glow showed where the moon had risen.

I watched the lighted windows, continued watching until the light died. Somewhere inside the small, neat villa Ali would be getting into bed. I had no idea what I was going to do, how I was going to approach her. Sighing deeply I closed my eyes, just for a moment.

THURDAY JUNE 28th

When I opened my eyes after what I believed had been only a couple of minutes it was full light. Obviously the effects of my frantic search for Ali had caught up with me.

I lay in the shade of the cliff. Sunlight poured onto the small villa. I lifted my wrist and checked my watch. God! It was almost 9 a.m. But I was comfortable, the mild Mediterranean air caressing me, so I stayed where I was, letting the day grow older, and after a while the patio doors opened and Ali stepped out. She wore a robe and sandals - not the silk one she wore at home, some faded blue towelling robe that probably came with the villa.

She stretched, lifting her arms high, then strode across the rocks to the water.

I was off to one side, still shaded beneath the cliff, and she would not expect to see anyone.

When she reached the water she untied the robe and let it drop. Underneath she was naked. Stepping out of her sandals, she trod carefully to where the sea lapped against the rocks, looked down and dived in. The water must have been deep, because she stayed down a long time before surfacing fifteen yards from shore.

She flipped onto her back and stroked lazily away, turned over again and swam more purposefully.

The clear water sparkled against her body, trailing down over her back and buttocks. I stared, feeling my cock responding in my pants and feeling bad for it, but unable to stop myself reacting.

Ali swam out until she was a tiny speck, then turned and parallelled the coastline, disappearing from view behind a headland.

I waited. Fifteen minutes passed and then she came into back view, close to shore now. She swam hard straight for the rocks and pulled herself out in one smooth movement, stood and pushed her hands back through her newly shorn hair, water running down from her body, tracing across her wonderful breasts, running over her belly and shaved pussy, caressing her long slim legs.

She lowered her arms and shook her hands, picked up the robe and walked back to the villa, holding the robe over her arm, a vision of loveliness. The pressure in my pants grew and I almost groaned, held myself back in case she heard. The only sound in this small isolated valley was the soft lapping of the sea.

Ali disappeared inside. I waited, trying to see what she was doing, but there was no movement, and I guessed she was showering.

Taking my opportunity I stood and went as quickly as I could back up the track to my car.

I knew where she was staying now. I could return at any time I wanted. And now, I needed to think.

I drove back to Ischia and let myself into my unused hotel room, stripped off and let a hot shower wash the grime from my body. My cock was still half engorged, and I looked down at it in the tall mirror as I stepped out from the shower. It would be so easy to touch myself, get hard again, and make myself cum, but suddenly that felt like betrayal.

I let the water dry naturally on my skin as I shaved. I glanced down, debating, then lathered up the short regrowth of pubic hair and shaved myself there as well. Ali liked me smooth, I knew that. Anything I could do to win her back. Anything at all.

Still naked I went back and lay on the bed, meaning to rest a moment, but once again sleep ambushed me.

I woke to the sound of a key in the door and opened my eyes to find that as I had slept my cock had stiffened again and now stood up hard against my belly, and that a maid was backing into the room with a trolley containing cleaning material and fresh towels.

I started to sit up, to grab the bedcovers just as she turned and saw me.

Her eyes widened and her mouth formed a perfect O.

She was young, not twenty, dressed in a neat blue work uniform that zipped up the front and showed a lot of leg.

I saw her eyes take in my nakedness, saw them glance down and a flush appear on her face.

"Dispiace Signore" she said, her hand rising to her breasts.

I held a hand up, finally pulling the covers over my erection.

"It's OK," I said, holding my own hand up. "I guess I just dropped off. I'm sorry."

"American," she said. "I will come back later, yes?"

"Thanks."

But she made no immediate move, just stood beside her trolley, still looking at me. I realized that I had managed to cover my cock, but the rest of me was still on display.

"Are you in Ischia for long, signore?"

What the hell? This was not the right time - but even as I thought it I felt a sense of disappointment - every man's fantasy was playing out in my hotel room, a beautiful Italian maid just a zip's tug away from being revealed, a naked foreign man with a raging hard on - and I was going to turn her away.

"I'm not sure yet. I don't think so."

"That is a shame. Perhaps I will see you again before you leave?" She started to turn away and I sighed with relief.

"Perhaps," I said.

She guided her trolley out, but hesitated as she reached the door and looked back, a mischievous look on her pretty face.

"You are sure I cannot do anything for you before I go, signore?"

"Thanks, but no thanks."

She lifted an eyebrow, perhaps surprised, and left me alone.

I stood, went across and flicked the lock on the door, then laughed at the ridiculous sight I made, my raging cock jutting out and swaying.

I lay back on the bed with my arms at my sides and let sleep take me again into dreams of Ali and a brown skinned hotel maid and Sandy and Jack and Tu and my Mom and when I woke my cock was still rigid and it felt as though I was on the point of cumming hard.

I shook my head, got up and took another shower, turning the controls down until the water was cold and eventually my cock eased and settled back between my legs. I stayed under the shower for another five minutes, then dressed.

I seemed to have slept most of the day away, the shadows now gathering in the square under my window.

I grabbed my wallet, the hire car keys and the envelope Sandy had given me, unlocked the door and went outside.

Tonight I crossed the square to the restaurant Ali had been in the night before. I knew how she was: once she found somewhere she liked she would return again and again. I thought back to where she had sat, and took a table as far away as I could. I ordered a Peroni and a dish of olives and looked through the menu, suddenly hungry.

My pasta was just being delivered when my cellphone rang. I answered, expecting Sandy asking if I had found Ali yet.

"Hi," I said.

There was silence. No, not silence, the sound of a car engine, a squeaking as parts moved on an uneven surface.

"Hello...?" I said. "Al?"

More active silence.

"I miss you, Al," I said. "I miss you more than you can believe."

The silence stretched on, for a long time. I thought I could hear her breathing above the background noise of the engine, and then her voice said, "Oh, I can believe," and she broke the connection.

I stared at my phone, willing it to ring again, trying to put meaning to her words. Had she been angry? Sad? Upset? Apologetic? I had no idea. Just hearing her voice had surged emotion through me, removing any ability to analyse her actual words.

I looked at my food on the table, no longer hungry, but knowing I had to eat so I lifted a fork and twirled pasta and put it in my mouth and as soon as I tasted the creamy sauce my hunger rose up, a huge monster, and I ate quickly.

I ordered another beer and gelato and then Ali walked in off the square and took the same table as last night, across the terrace from me, looking away, not seeing me sitting in clear view. She was closer than last night, and looked more beautiful than I had ever seen her. Her skin, sun touched, glowed. I was beginning to get used to her hair, and saw the sun highlight it, throwing fiery tints into the curls that still formed. The cut would have been severe on anyone else, showing her ears and the nape of her neck, soft curls framing her forehead, slightly longer on top, but on Ali is merely revealed more of her amazing face, more of her smooth neck and throat.




Ali's Art Ch. 13



She wore a pale silk top with narrow straps that showed her perfect cleavage, the dark blue straps of her bra running up over her shoulders beside the thinner straps of the top. Her skirt was very short, thin and floating over black leggings painted onto her long legs. She wore sandals on her feet and sunglasses pushed up on top of her head and I knew I was hopelessly in love and if I failed to win her back I had no idea what I was going to do with the rest of my life.

I caught the eye of my waitress and called her over.

"Signore?"

"Could you do something for me? Send a bottle of your best white wine to the lady on that table? The one over there?"

The waitress looked at me and smiled, "Of course, signore. And is there any message?"

"Uh, yes," I had no idea what I wanted to say. "Yes... could you say 'Sorry'?"

"Sorry?" She looked puzzled now.

"Yes. Just sorry."

"And shall I let her know who sends the wine?"

I nodded. "Yes."

She grinned. "La dolce vita," she murmured and moved away.

I waited, watching Ali study her menu. Then the waitress appeared with a bottle of wine in a cooler and took it across to her.

She lowered her head and spoke.

Ali looked puzzled.

The waitress turned and said something else, pointed across the terrace to me.

I saw Ali's eyes lift, find me and fail to recognize me at first. She looked again and her mouth opened. Opened wide. Her hand flew to her mouth.

I stared back, willing her to forgive me, to accept me back into her life.

Her face showed no emotion other than surprise, and as I continued watching her that too faded.

Ali spoke to the waitress and they both glanced back in my direction.

The waitress nodded and moved away, came to me and said, "The signora asks if you would like to join her?" She was desperately trying not to grin.

"It would be my pleasure," I said. I gathered my things, the envelope I had carried from New York, and stood. "Would you please put everything on my bill?"

"Of course, signore."

I felt self conscious walking across to Ali's table, but when I reached her she made it easy and stood.

She put her arms out and I stepped inside them and kissed her, feeling an electric surge fill my body from the touch.

I stared at her, and her at me, directly into each other's eyes.

"I've been a fool," I said.

She shook her head. "No. I have."

I smiled. "We have?"

She looked at me, nodded. "OK. We have. What the fuck are you doing here, Tom?"

She sat at the table and I sat across from her, reached and pulled her hand into mine and she let me and left it there, warm and small.

"I've come for you, Al," I said.

"You have?"

"Of course."

"Why?" She looked into my eyes, searching for some answer not connected to what I might say.

"I need to say something to you. Something important. Something I should have said a long time ago."

She nodded.

My heart was beating fast. I knew exactly what I wanted to say, but was afraid that she would reject my words. I hoped, I prayed, that would happen, but we don't always know what is going on inside other people's heads. We might think we know, but we don't. We can't.

"Al, I want to get this all out at once, so don't interrupt. I've known you since I was three years old. I only ever thought of you as my sister - a real sister, not just a pretend one. But then things got fucked up. You moved away, and when I saw you you'd grown into a beautiful teenager and I fell in love with you in a different way-"

Ali tried to say something but I held my hand up.

"Let me finish. I've got to get this all out at once, otherwise I'm not going to be able to say it. But loving you was OK, because even though we only saw each other once a year it was fine, because you were my secret soul mate. I never told you this. How the hell could I tell you? I was twelve. What the fuck did I know when I was twelve?"

"Tom..." Ali said.

"Shh... And it got worse. Every time I saw you it got worse. And then when I came to New York, I fell in love with you even more. And you teased me, and excited me, and frustrated me... oh fuck, yeah, you frustrated me... And then we started kind of fooling around... And that was good too..." I laughed. "That was very good... I wanted more, but I couldn't tell you, because you're not into men, and I just wanted to be around you, to be with you as much as I could, and it was enough. It has been enough 

"But last week, when you left, I knew I couldn't lose you. So, here it is, Al. Whatever you want to do is OK with me, just so long as I can be around you. You can fuck who you like. You can tease me. You can swan around buck naked and frustrate the fuck out of me. It's all fine. Everything. But just let me be a part of your life and I'll cope with it in whatever way I can, because I need to be around you, need to be with you. I love you Al. And not in the, oh yeah, I love you, way. I love you!" I stared into her eyes, deep into her eyes. "I love you and want to be with you for ever."

She stared back at me.

"OK," I said, letting go of her hands. "Fucked it up now, but OK. Had to say that."

I pulled the dripping bottle of wine from its bucket and poured two glasses, took a big swallow from mine. The wine tasted amazing.

Ali looked at me, and I could see her eyes glittering.

"You can tell me to fuck off in a minute, but before you do that there's something you need to do and then I'll go. If I can't be with you, Al, I'll go and you'll never see me. I can't be a small part of you. I have to be a big part of you."

I put the envelope down on the table and slipped the papers out of it. I knew I was deliberately changing the subject, trying to distract Ali from telling me of course she loved me, just not in the same way.

"Sandy gave me these. She says we've got to both sign them."

Ali looked down, confused at my sudden change of subject. "What are they?"

"We've had an offer for the business. Fifteen million dollars."

Ali's eyes widened.

"Are you willing to sell?" I asked.

I could see her trying to think, trying to make sense of everything that was going on.

"I need to..."

"Take you time, Al. Sandy needs them back by next Tuesday. But I can always fly back Monday. Even Tuesday I guess. Think about it. Here, take them, read them. Call me when you've decided."

I sat back and drained my wine. Then I moved my chair back, ready to leave. This hadn't gone the way I might have hoped. My fault. I'd laid my cards out, opened my heart and then willfully swerved the topic around to the business. I should have stopped and listened to Ali... but I had been scared of what she might say.

As I started to stand Ali reached across and covered my hand.

"Sit down, Tom. Stay." She shook her head. "Give me a minute, OK?"

"Long as you want, Al."

She looked around, saw the waitress who had been diplomatically avoiding our table. Ali gestured her over and ordered a seafood salad, looked at me. "You want something, Tom?"

"I've eaten," I said.

She nodded.

"Where are you staying?"

"Over there," I turned, pointing at the small hotel.

"How did you find me?"

Her voice was still neutral, as though she was holding herself in check.

"I have a confession to make. I hacked into your laptop and looked at your bank account. It's amazing what you can find out by looking at bank transactions."

"You hacked my computer?" she said.

I nodded.

"So you... guessed my password?"

I nodded again.

A brief flush flared pink under the tan in her face.

"You're a bastard," she said, but still without emotion.

"I know. But I had to find you."

"How is Sandy?" She asked, and my head spun. We needed to talk about more than this.

"She's fine. You know Sandy."

"Still as sexy as ever?"

"And some," I said.

"And Candy...?"

I shrugged. "OK, I guess. I didn't see her again after you left."

"No? Why not?"

I shrugged again. "Didn't feel right. And besides, she got what she wanted. Candy's very beautiful, but shallow. You know that."

Ali nodded.

"Did you leave because of Candy?" I asked.

She shook her head. "No... Yes and no... I don't know..." She stared down at the table, then lifted her glass and took a long swallow. "I don't know," she said again.

I reached over and took her hands again and she didn't pull away.

"How's your Mom? Did she enjoy the honeymoon?"

"I think so. She seemed real happy when she got back. And Jerry was grinning a lot too."

"I should think so. Your Mom is one hell of a catch."

"I know."

She stared at me, messages flowing backwards and forwards, unspoken, not understood.

The waitress brought her salad and Ali pulled her hands out of mine and started to eat. I sat back in my chair and watched, enchanted by every move she made, every nuance of her voice.

"I helped her... uh... prepare herself for the wedding night," Ali said.

"I know," I said.

"You do?"

"Sure." I didn't explain how I knew. Let her try and work that one out.

Ali glanced at the papers on the table. "When do I need to do something with these?"

"Soon," I said. "Tomorrow's Thursday. They have to be back next Wednesday at the latest. Sandy didn't say when, but I guess in the morning. I can fly them back Monday. Don't want to risk getting held up on the 4th. So you've got the weekend, if you want."

Ali ate more of her salad. It looked good.

"I'm staying in a nice villa along the coast," she said. "It's small, but nice."

"Mm-hm," I said.

"I was wondering... I know you've got your hotel room... but you're welcome to come back with me if you want."

"Mm-hm?"

She nodded. "If you want. No pressure, Tom."

"I'd like that."

She looked at me. "Me too," she said.

I emptied the bottle into our glasses. The cold wine beaded the sides and moisture ran down the thin stems. The wine was probably the best I had ever tasted. I don't know if Ali noticed or not.

She ate more salad then pushed her plate away.

"I've got some things I need to say to you as well, Tom. But not here. Back at my place. Are you ready to go?"

I nodded. "I'll just pay the tab."

"No - I'll do that."

I looked at her. "Al, that lovely waitress will consider me a bastard of the worst kind if I don't pay now."

Al laughed. For the first time since I sat down she showed emotion, and my stomach fluttered.

"OK then, treat me."

I turned around, caught the waitress's eye. I didn't look at the bill, just gave her my card and when she returned added a €100 note to the plate. She looked at it, at me, and said, "Grazie, signore."

"My pleasure."

I stood and pulled Ali's chair back and we walked out into the square.

Ali brushed against me as we made our way downhill toward the car park, and I reached and took her hand and she let me.

She opened the car with the remote and we slid inside.

For a moment she sat with her hands on the wheel, staring ahead, then turned to me and put her hand behind my head and pulled my lips down to hers and kissed me deeply.

When she drew apart she stared into my eyes, then nodded. "OK. My place." Her voice sounded a little hoarse.

She drove slowly, carefully, along the narrow island roads, bounced down the rough track and pulled up outside the villa.

"This is nice," I said.

"Not cheap," she replied.

"You're rich," I said.

"Not yet."

I shrugged. "Your choice, Al. Our choice. If we want it."

She unlocked the door and walked ahead of me. I stepped inside. The room was sparsely furnished, the floors tiled, the walls white and clean.

A large sofa covered with a cream throw sat in the center of the main room, facing out to the sea. The view looked north west, and the sun was starting to get low on the horizon, throwing fire up onto distant clouds.

"More wine?" Ali asked.

"I'm fine."

"I think I need something. Join me?"

"Sure," I said.

Ali walked across to a large kitchen area, took another bottle of white from the fridge and opened it, poured large glasses for us. She handed me one and dropped onto the sofa, leaning back against one arm, her legs stretched out. I looked around, then patted her legs and she lifted them, setting them back on my lap as I sat down

Ali lifted her glass and I touched it with mine. The wine was lighter than my expensive bottle, but good.

"My turn, Tom," she said.

I waited, stroking the tops of her feet where they rested on my legs. Ali had opened the patio doors and the scent and sound of the sea drifted into the room on a warm breeze.

"I need to ask you the same favor, Tom. No interruptions. I know exactly what I want to say to you... just not sure how to say it. I want this to come out right, and I don't want you to freak."

I watched her face in outline, her beautiful, unbelievable face. Watched the way her perfect breasts moved inside her top. Watched the way her long supple legs were displayed.

I smiled, recalling all the times I had fantasized about those breasts, studied them over the years as they budded, grew, became wondrous. I smiled at the memory of seeing them for the first time back in Ali's small apartment when Maggie loosened Ali's bra and they shook free. I smiled at the memory of the times I had seen them since, and the times I had now held them. I wanted to hold them again, wanted to touch all Ali's secret places. 

She glanced across at me and I pulled myself back to the present and nodded. "OK."

"What you said, before... kind of scared me. Because..."

She stopped, took a deep breath and glanced at me again.

"Did you really mean what you said, Tom? Everything you said?"

I nodded again.

"You've felt like that since... God, since when?"

"Long time, Al. Long, long time."

"Fuck... OK. I don't know what's gonna happen now. I know what I want to happen. What I hope will happen. But I don't know. This is just so different."

She stopped again and I watched her.

"Go on," I said. "You can't leave me hanging like this, Al."

She nodded.

"I like girls, Tom. You know that. I really like girls...."

Out over the sea the sun touched the horizon and threw an orange pathway towards us.

"But... I've always liked you, too. When you told me how you felt about me, I felt sick. Because I've felt like that about you as well, Tom. I've tried not to let you know, because... Fuck, I don't know, because I didn't want to scare you away. Just a little bit of you felt so good, so I took what I could and tried not to scare you off by being intense and needy. But I always have been needy about you... just didn't know how to express it."

"Al..."

This time it was her turn to hold up her hand. "Wait. Let me finish. All the girls were..." she laughed. "Yeah, all the girls were fun. I really get off fucking other women. Really get off." She glanced at me, trying to judge my reaction. "But when I think about you... like that... you know, like fucking you, Tom?"

She looked again and I nodded.

"I get so fucking wet. Thinking about fucking you I get so wet it feels like I'm melting. I'm confused, because I really don't like guys. I know I've joked with you, like you're not like a guy. You're Tom... my Tom... my Tom," she repeated it twice, staring down at the tiled floor.

"I've always know it," she said. "And I've tried to fight it because you're my cousin and wanting you is kind of incest. If we did what I want us to do we'd be breaking the law somewhere... but I don't care. That didn't seem to matter. I used to bring myself off, when I was thirteen, fourteen, thinking about you I finger fucked myself and it felt better than anything else ever."

I leaned over her legs and placed by empty glass on the floor, lifted her feet and began to work my fingers into her sole, knowing she always liked that. Occasionally I let my hands stray up to her calves, but no higher.

"And as I grew older I thought I might grow out of it," Ali said. "You know, schoolgirl crush. But I didn't. And then you called me up and said could you stay with me and I nearly fainted. After you hung up, that night, I thought about you coming to stay and I pulled my panties down and stuck my fingers inside myself and nearly passed out I came so strong."

She looked across at me now, looked into my eyes, searching for something.

"Am I scaring you, Tom?"

I shook my head.

"Good. Because I haven't finished yet."

"Go on," I said.

"When you moved in, it was tough. I wanted to rip your clothes off and fuck you. All the time. And I was scared because you're my cousin and what I wanted was against the law. But it didn't stop me wanting you. Wanting you so bad. All that teasing, all that messing about, I was trying to see how far I could go." She smiled, looked at me. "We nearly went too far more than once, didn't we, Tom?"

I laughed. "More than once."

"You could have fucked me any time you wanted. You could have fucked me years ago, before we were old enough to fuck. You could have fucked me the day you moved in with me. I wanted you to. All the time."

Now I did reach across and lifted her hand from her lap and held it. She allowed me to draw it across to rest on her thigh, turned her palm up into mine. I felt her leg trembling under my hand.

"And now... last week... I need to tell you about last week."

She took a long, deep breath and let all the air out of her lungs in a long whoosh.

"I thought it was going to be OK. Then your Mom booked us into that hotel. Your Mom..." she glanced at me. "I don't know... I want to tell you but I don't know if I can..."

"Tell me what, Al? You can tell me anything. Anything."

"I'm not sure I can tell you this, Tom."

"Anything," I said. I felt nervous, half guessing maybe what she was going to say, and said. "I want to tell you something too, Al."

"Are we fucked, Tom?" she asked.

"No," I said.

"Tell me, Tom."

"You're my cousin, Al. And you said you didn't want to draw me into incest, and I can understand that. But it's too late, Al. Too late. Last Christmas I... I fucked my Mom."

The trembling in her leg grew stronger and her grip on my hand almost painful.

"The night before the wedding, Tom... I fucked your Mom as well..."

She stared down at the floor, refusing to look at me.

"Good," I said. "You told me you had a crush on her, so good."

Now she risked a glance.

"Good?"

"Sure. Like you say, she's really sexy..."

Ali smiled, then laughed softly. "Wow... whew... fucked up, yeah?"

I shook my head. "Only if you're... worried about it. Felt good to me when I did it. You?"

She nodded. "Yeah, felt really good."

"So the fact we're... cousins is hardly relevant, is it?"

"OK," she said, suddenly decisive. "That's settled then. Now let me go on... That night in the hotel, in the bath... I really wanted you to fuck me that night... I wanted you to fuck me in my ass... You know I want that, Tom, don't you?"

She looked at me again, searching for my approval. My permission?

"It's not... not like I'm into other guys, just you. And it's not like being a lesbian I'm into anal sex... though I do like having my ass licked... I love having a tongue up my ass, Tom..." She shivered. "But you... I want your cock all the way up my ass, Tom. Of fuck, that night, I wanted it so bad I didn't know what to do. And you... you're always so sensible, so good, so controlled. Why the fuck couldn't you just give in and fuck me?"

"Because I wanted it too much." I said. "Because it would mean too much to me to do it casually. Other people, yeah. But you mean too much."

"And then... going back to your house, it was like we were moving in together," Ali said, "And I spent hours lying in your Mom's bed starting at the ceiling willing myself to stay there and not come through and rape you... I wanted to... I wanted to all the time... But I stopped myself. And then Crystal, watching you fuck Crystal, and then..." she stopped and began to sob.




Ali's Art Ch. 13



I lifted my hand and pulled her towards me and she fell against me, across my lap, and I turned and pulled her again until she lay on top of me, our legs tangled, her chest heaving against mine, her tears dripping onto my face and I stroked her back and let her cry until her tears died.

"And then... Crystal knew what we both wanted... when she pulled me on top of her and you fucked her... you were looking at me when you fucked her, Tom... you were looking at me, not her... and it felt like you were fucking me... but you weren't, and I wanted you to so much but it was Crystal and it was just all too much for me and I lay awake all night and in the morning I needed to get away because otherwise I would have made you fuck me and... and I thought... I thought that was going to ruin everything... and I couldn't stand it... couldn't stand not being with you, Tom."

She had poured her words against my neck, her lips touching my skin, and when she finished she lifted her head and looked at me.

"You thought that?" I said. "That if we fucked it would spoil what we had?"

She nodded.

"And I thought that too," I said.

She nodded again.

"Are we fucked up, or what?" I said.

She sniffed and kissed me lightly on the lips. Lying on top of me she lay her head down into the curve of my neck and I felt her body loosen.

"I'm so tired, Tom," she said. "I don't think I've slept more than a couple of hours a night since I walked away from you. Kept thinking too much. Afraid I'd lost you for good."

"You'll never lose me, Al," I said.

"Mmm," she muttered, and I felt her loosen even more, draping around me almost as if her body was melting. "If I fall asleep just go ahead and fuck me, Tom," she whispered.

I put my arms around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head and held her and within moments her breathing had deepened and I knew she had drifted off. I lay there for a while, watching over her shoulder as the sun painted the sky wild colors and then faded, faded and died. Stars came out but the air drifting through the open window was still warm.

Finally I twisted out from under Ali, lifted her and carried her through to the bedroom. First attempt I opened a closet door. Found the bedroom on the second try. It was as amazing as the rest of the villa, set alongside the main living area with more patio doors overlooking the sea.

I lay Ali gently on the bed and stood looking at her, wondering whether to remove her clothing or not. It seemed odd - I was used to seeing Ali naked, had seen her that way a hundred times, but standing in the middle of the night beside her sleeping form it felt different, an invasion of her privacy. I leaned over and unclipped her short skirt and eased it off. I started to pull her leggings down until I discovered she was wearing nothing underneath. I tugged them back up and Ali muttered something in her sleep and rolled onto her side.

I sat back on my heels looking at her, saw sweat beading on her face and neck and knew she was going to simmer all night if I left her as she was.

I pushed her gently and she grumbled and reluctantly rolled over onto her back. I returned to the leggings and tugged them down, aware of her pussy revealing itself to me, aware of the delicious scent that rose from her. I folded the leggings and laid them on the dresser. I pulled Ali up so she was sitting and she mumbled and tried to slump sideways. I sat behind her, holding her up with my knees as I tugged her top over her head, struggling with her arms. I unclipped her bra and pulled it free over her shoulders. Finally I laid her back down and she opened her mouth to breath heavily. I had no idea why she hadn't woken, unless it was the sudden release of tension had knocked her out.

As I watched she rolled onto her side again and pulled her knees up. The dips and folds of her body enchanted me and it was only with difficulty I turned away.

I tidied our glasses, pulled the tall windows half closed and sat on the sofa. I sat there a long time, maybe an hour, hardly thinking at all, then rose and went back into the bedroom. I stripped off and lay on the bed next to Ali, apart from her but close. I could feel the warmth of her body radiate across onto my arm as I stared at the ceiling.

I closed my eyes and waited for sleep to come, listening to the sound of the sea, listening to the sound of her breathing next to me.

FRIDAY JUNE 29th

When I woke my body was slick with sweat. Daylight filled the white room, a shaft of sunlight splashing hot onto my right foot, making me pull it back. My leg brushed against Ali as I moved and I rolled my head to one side.

She lay on her front, face turned away from me, one arm under her pillow, the other stretched along her side, her palm facing upward, her fingers flat against the sheet. I studied her sleeping form, watching the way her back and sides moved as she breathed, watching as sweat gathered on her skin and evaporated off. The pinch of her waist and flare of her hips fascinated me and I recalled the day we had explored each other's bodies in such detail. I knew every inch of her skin, every intimate crevice and fold. Along the center of her back a distinct valley ran beside her spine, only fading as it reached her waist and then the perfect curve of her buttocks rose, smooth, arcing over and merging into the sweep of her thighs.

She mumbled in her sleep and moved. I reached across and placed my hand in the small of her back, left it there, feeling the life in her body.

At my touch she made another sound, rolled her head down into the pillow, then rolled it again. Her eyes were open as she turned to me, and she smiled.

"Morning, Tom," she said, her words thick with sleep.

"Morning, Al," I said, and kissed her shoulder.

"I guess I was tired," she said. "What time is it?"

I shook my head. "No idea." Looking around there was no clock in the bedroom.

"Kitchen," she said, "On the stove. Only clock in the house. And bring me some juice when you come back."

I laughed, kissed her shoulder again and rolled off the bed. I poured two big glasses of juice, cold from the fridge, glanced at the clock on the stove.

As I walked back into the bedroom I was aware my cock had lengthened and I felt it swing as I moved towards the bed, saw Ali look down and it responded, filling even more.

"It's just after eleven," I said.

I pulled the pillows up and sat against them, placed the bottom of the glass on Ali's back and she squealed and jerked aside.

"Fuck Tom, that's cold!"

I grinned and as she turned and sat up. I held the glass until she was ready. She took it, drained half in a single swallow and put the glass on her nightstand.

"God, now I need to pee. Don't go anywhere." She got up and ran through to the bathroom and I enjoyed watching the way her body moved. I heard her pee loudly, heard her wipe herself then she came back. She stopped at the foot of the bed and stretched. I didn't know if it was deliberate or if she needed to do it but she looked gorgeous, skin pulling taut, her breasts flattening and lifting. I noticed her nipples had hardened.

"Better?" I asked.

"Much," she said. She sat on the edge of the bed and finished her juice, ran her hand down over her side and across her belly.

I reached across and stroked her back and she smiled, rolled her head back as though she was a cat.

"I need a shower, Tom," she said and got up.

I dropped back onto the bed, listening as water started to run from the bathroom, heard the sound change as Ali stepped under the spray. She had left the bathroom door open and I looked at it, my cock stiffening as I thought of her under the water. I felt the change running through us, through me. I had behaved myself long enough. I got up and went through to the bathroom.

The shower was big, the whole room tiled in marble. A glass half door was beaded with water and I stepped around it and put my arms around Ali's soaking body and held her to me.

"I wondered what was taking you so long," she said. She wriggled her wet ass back against me, reached around with her hand and searched for and found my cock. Her hand was slippery with soap and she started to rub me slowly.

I lifted my hands to her breasts, those wonderful breasts I had always dreamed of, and now here they were, filling my hands, water streaming over them, her nipples hard under my fingers.

Ali leaned back against me and I dropped one hand to her belly, moved it down and she gasped as my fingers found her pussy.

"You teasing me, Tom?" she said.

"Not teasing any longer, Al."

"Mm." She squirmed against me, turning round and pulled my face down to kiss her, then broke the kiss and knelt and took my cock directly into her mouth.

There was no playing now, no pretending. She drew me into her as far as she could, gagged a little and pulled back.

"Fuck. I'm going to have to practice that a bit more," she said.

"Practice all you want," I said. I put my hands under her arms and pulled her back up. She tried to slip out and go down on me again but I held onto her, slippery and wet and pushed her back against the tiled wall. Water cascaded down over us both.

"You want to wash me, Tom?" she said, a smile on her lips.

"Are you dirty?"

"You know I'm dirty," she giggled.

I took the soap from its dish and ran it along her back, building up a slick foam of bubbles.

I washed her shoulder and neck, lifted each arm and washed their length to her fingers.

Ali leaned back, allowing me access to her breasts and belly and I soaped them and ran their slick smoothness under my hands.

I touched her pussy and she shivered.

"We've been here before," she said. "But it feels different now."

"It is different," I said.

She smiled and turned to present her back to me. She leaned forward and put her hands on the tiles, stepped back. Water hit her arched back, funnelled and ran off between the cheeks of her ass.

I soaped her back, slowly moving down. I soaped her ass, working between her cheeks.

"Yeah," she said. "I need cleaning a lot there."

"Looks fine to me," I said.

She shook her head, took another half step back. "Dirty," she said. "Needs cleaning."

Ali reached around with one hand and pulled me towards her. Her hand found my cock, rubbed it against her butt, pulled it between her cheeks.

I moved closer, pushed her hand away and gripped my cock in my own fist. I bent my knees, moved closer again and the head of my cock came up and rested against the closed crevice of her pussy.

Ali pushed back onto me, opening herself. "Don't tease me, Tom," she said.

I smiled. It seemed that everything had been working up to this moment. All the teasing, all the playing, all the moments when we almost went to far. We had been waiting for now.

I kissed her wet back and pressed forward. My cock opened her and instead of pulling away like I always had before I pressed again and entered her fully.

"Oh my God..." she whispered, stepping back against me.

"Changed your mind about men?" I asked.

Ali shook her head, water flying from her short curls. "No. Men are bastards. You're not a man, Tom."

"So what have I got filling your pussy if I'm not a man?"

"Don't know," she said, "But you're Tom. You can do anything you want to me, Tom. You know you can. Except... you can't cum inside me. Not there, anyway. I don't want to get pregnant... not yet." She moved against me, starting to breathe more heavily and I stroked into her.

I was struggling not to cum, desperately wanting to. The "not yet" Ali had added almost tipped me over with the implications.

I reached around her front and worked her clitoris with my fingers and she gasped.

"Do you know how long I've been waiting for this moment?" Ali said.

"As long as me?"

She shook her head. "Longer. I'm older than you, so longer. I've wanted this for as long as I can remember." Her voice was shaking as her breathing grew ragged.

I slid a slippery breast under my hand and pulled at her nipple.

"You're gonna make me cum, Tom," she said, moving faster against me. "Don't cum yet... oh fuck!" She shook, jerking forwards, making my cock slip out of her. She pushed back and I slid back inside and she cried out, trembling as a climax rolled through her. I gripped her hips and pulled her back onto my cock, leaning back and drawing her hands off the wall. Her legs were trembling, hardly able to hold her up and I held her against me as she shivered.

She lifted her arm up and wrapped it around the back of my neck, tried to turn her head to kiss me but reached only as far as my ear.

"Fuck Tom... that was incredible... did you cum?"

I shook my head and she felt the movement against hers.

"How come? How could you didn't cum then?"

"You asked me not to."

Ali laughed, pulling away from me, laughing hard. "Oh fuck, that's my Tom..."

She leaned back against me, still giggling and I wrapped my arms around her. My rigid cock pressed against her back and she slid her hands down between us and held me.

"What are we gonna do about this, then?" she asked.

"Will you finish me off, Al?" I said.

I felt her laugh against me. "Still so fucking polite... I'm going to have to knock some of that out of you... I won't break, Tom."

I held her breasts, enjoying the way her slick hands were moving on my cock. She leaned away from me, let one hand go and put it back on the wall. She was leaning forwards now, pushing her ass back into the air. She gripped my cock and rubbing it against her back, rubbed it against the cheeks of her ass, slipped it down along the valley between them.

She had stopped laughing. I put my hands on her hips and pulled her back a little. Ali rubbed my cock and slid it along her crack, over the ring of her asshole, down and then back. She held me against it. The head of my cock resting naturally in the dimple of her ass.

"Do you remember that B&B?" Ali said.

"After the wedding. How could I ever forget that?"

"I asked you for something then and you were sensible."

"I was."

Ali was still rubbing my cock, still pressing back against me. The soap and water had made her slick and as she pressed I felt her ass opening against my cock.

"You're not gonna be sensible again, are you?"

"What do you think?" I said. I pressed forward and her ass opened more. The head of my cock had now opened her, cradled against the tight ring of muscle.

Her head hung down between her shoulders and she shook it. "Don't be," she said. "Do it, Tom. I want you to do it."

I pressed and my cock entered her ass. I heard her gasp, but not in pain, and I pushed and slipped deeper. I was now inside Ali's ass and it felt wonderful. The ring of muscles gripped my cock and the head was deep inside, the passage tight and welcoming.

I pressed harder, pushing inside and she opened her legs wider and put her other hand on the wall. I pulled her hips back hard against me, bending my knees and slid all the way inside her asshole.

Ali's breathing was harsh again and she gasped, "Tom, you're gonna make me cum again..." Her voice sounded surprised.

"I'm going to fill you," I said into her ear. "I'm going to fuck your ass and fill it with my cum."

"Yes," she gasped.

"My cock is in your ass," I said. "It's all the way in your ass."

"Yes," she gasped again, her trembling growing. "Fuck my ass, Tom..."

I began to pump into her, not gently, working myself hard into her ass and I knew I wasn't going to last. My balls ached, my cock burned and I felt my release peaking.

"I'm cumming, Al," I grunted.

"Fuck yes!" she yelled and I exploded inside her, pouring a single hot stream of cum deep inside her bowel. 

Ali felt my release and it tipped her over and she shook again. Her legs went limp and I pulled her back against me, trying to hold her up but my own knees were going and suddenly we slipped and Ali landed on top of me, still impaled and I pumped into her again, cumming again, jetting inside her. I lay back, water half drowning me, holding Ali against me as I emptied myself completely into her.

We lay pummeled by water long after I stopped coming. My cock shrank and finally slipped out from Ali's ass.

She turned, slippery against me, and lay on top of me and kissed me.

"Thanks, Tom," she said. It looked like she had tears in her eyes, but it was hard to tell with all the water about.

"For what?"

"For fucking me like that." She nipped my lips with her teeth. "I've wanted you to do that for ages."

"Fuck your ass?"

She nodded. "It turns me on so fucking much. Hey, weird lesbian, yeah?"

"Beautiful lesbian," I said, kissing her.

"Your lesbian," she said.

"Do we need to talk about that?" I said. I pushed her off and stood and turned the water off. I offered my hand and when she took it I pulled her up against me and kissed her again.

"Come to bed with me?" she said.

We went through and lay on the bed, soaking the sheets with our bodies.

"Nothing to talk about," Ali said. "I'm yours, Tom. I always have been yours." She kissed me, then licked the side of my face.

"And all the girls?"

"The girls were fun. But I love you." She held my face in her hands, staring into my eyes, her expression serious.

"You mean that?" I asked.

She nodded, licked my eyebrow.

"And I love you, Al," I said. "If you still want girls, that's cool with me."

"Reasonable fucking Tom," she said, but she was grinning.

I shrugged. She wasn't going to change me now.

"OK," she said. "But how about if I share? How about if we both fuck 'em?"

Her grin turned wicked, and she knew what my answer was by the way my cock stiffened and rose against her thigh.

"You ready to go again?" she asked.

I nodded. "Always, with you."

"Good." She slipped down against me and drew my cock into her mouth, no hesitation, no pretence, this was real.

I grabbed her and spun her round so I could get at her pussy and we lay side by side on the damp bed making each other cum until the day faded and the night returned.

Sometime in the dark Ali moved against me and said, in a sleepy voice, "Take me home tomorrow, Tom?"

"Sure," I said.

"Let's sign those papers and get rich. Then we can spend the rest of our lives fucking."

"Good plan," I said.

~~~

This is the final chapter of Ali's Art. I would like to thank all those who have given so much positive feedback.

There are no more episodes planned for Tom and Ali, but that doesn't mean they will never return... they have a long life ahead of them, and who knows what might happen?