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Skin Deep

By: Goldeniangel



When I was younger, I didn't realize that skin color or ethnicity made people different. I was aware that everyone looked different, but that kind of superficial difference meant nothing to me. Growing up, my neighborhood was predominantly black and Hispanic, with a small sprinkling of whites and Asians, which meant that my elementary school was as well. We were all friends with each other, it didn't matter the person's skin color or their background - or it didn't matter to me at least, although when I look back on memories I recall that a lot of people's "best" friends were the same race or ethnicity. However, I considered everyone to be basically the same. Part of this may have stemmed from the fact that my mother is Korean and my father is white; my mother was adopted by a white family when she was five and remembers nothing of her origins, she considers herself to be ethnically white because of this. 

Middle school was a crash course in reality. For the first time in my life there were clearly drawn lines between races, and I was unsure of my place in this new society. The first week of school made it very clear to me that the "popular" kids were going to be the ones from Laytonsville, the white kids that were shipped in from half an hour away to up our school's test scores. These were the kids in my classes, because I was in all Honors classes. They all knew each other, and they were all drastically different from me. We didn't dress the same, look at life the same, or even speak the same slang - and I often felt that they were looking down on me for my differences. It was not a feeling I was happy with, and I tried very hard to conform; I learned how to speak without my neighborhood rhythm and accent, I dressed trendier (and less comfortably), and I listened to their music and watched their shows. Then, something in me rebelled, and I started trying to be different on purpose. The majority of my wardrobe became bellbottoms and vintage shirts, I made fun of "white" people and their habits, I called the popular kids "preppies". The funny thing was, they started liking me better after that, although by that point I didn't really care. I was infuriated with the shallowness of it all, and I became aware - for the first time in my life - of prejudice, bias and stereotypes. I hated all of it.

In high school I would occasionally fight against the system, or use its own stupidities to my advantage. When I took my SATs and it asked me to fill in a circle for my race, I checked the "Other" box and wrote in "Human"; and when I applied to colleges I applied to the southern schools as Asian and the northern schools as White, taking advantage of Affirmative Action. By then, I didn't really believe I was different, I just hated the system that tried to tell me I was.

My friends were the ones who made me feel the most different. We met in middle school and we all had great times together, they were all white but it didn't seem to matter. It certainly didn't matter to me, and they gave no sign that they thought of me as anything but - sometimes when I made fun of "white people" they'd make fun of me for doing it (although they knew I meant it ironically). However, towards the end of high school they hit me with a sledgehammer. They all had boyfriends in a particular group of friends, and they wanted to hook me up with one of the guys in that group. I was shocked, absolutely floored. Not that they wanted me dating a guy in their boys' group, but their reasoning behind the guy they chose.

"His name is Jack, he's cute, REALLY fun and funny... and he's even Asian! It's perfect!" They were beaming at me, proud that they'd found me the perfect guy to go with. 

Despite my trepidation, I agreed to meet him and check him out. I found him crass, immature and obnoxious. He was really a bad guy, just not at all my type. The worst part was that there were other guys in the group that were much more my type. My friends hadn't even thought of proposing them as possibilities, they'd chosen Jack because he was Asian. 

I have never felt so alone and misunderstood as I did when I realized what had happened. Now I look back and I know, intellectually, that they were just trying to help; but the fact remains that they looked at the outside rather than the inside. People do this a lot; when looking for a blind date for a friend people tend to go more superficial than anything else. It's assumed that because the person is the same race/ethnicity/religion that they'll get along well, it's a perfect match!!! And of course, this isn't always true. I myself am a by-product of a racially mixed couple. 

I find it sad that so many people look at what's on the outside, rather than considering what's on the inside. What the person likes or dislikes, their hobbies, etc. People would probably enjoy blind dates a lot more if people hooked them up with the other person based on something other than their common skin color.

Skin Deep



"It's okay," she said, looking him right in the eye, "you can touch them if you want. I mean, you're so freaking obvious, y'know? You've been staring at my tits for the last ten minutes. So go ahead, touch them. I won't mind."

Brian shook his head. Had she really said that? Or were his ears playing tricks on him? Perhaps he'd misunderstood her words, muffled by the constant hum of the train's engine, the rickety thump, thump of the wheels speeding along the tracks.

She shook her head. "I knew it."

She knew what? What was her problem?

"Guys like you are all alike," she said. She wasn't looking at him now, though. She had the window seat, and was taking full advantage of it before night came and inked out the view. They were passing through the farm belt of western Illinois, not far from the Mississippi River. Fields of corn swayed languorously in the hot August breeze. "You're all just a bunch of cowards. Fakes."

Fakes? Who was she calling a fake?

"You," she said, and now she did swivel her head around to look at him again. There was something penetrating about her eyes, as if they somehow could see through him, into him, his inner secrets and weaknesses and regrets and failings all revealed. He felt naked in the face of her stare.

"You don't know the first thing about me," he shot back. His voice had a whiny tinge to it. It always did when someone got him riled. He hated that.

"Don't I?" she said. "I know you want to touch my tits, but are too chicken to try it, how's that for starters?"

Swell. Just swell, for starters.

"Pathetic, if you ask me," she said. So, who asked her? "You know, I bet you feel afraid when you're around people, am I right? Especially women. Especially hot women, women you want to fuck. Am I right? Or am I right?"

He moved further away from her in his seat, edging his ass toward the aisle. He gained another two, maybe three inches of separation. Not nearly enough. 

The train lurched, and he nearly fell over, into the aisle. Fuck. A fat, bald man shuffled past, toward the small restroom at the front of the car. 

"So I ask you again, do you want to touch my tits? Lick them? Pinch my nipples, make them good and stiff and erect for you? Hmm? Tell me what you want."

Before he could answer, she surprised him. She grabbed his right hand, which had been resting primly on his lap, and brought it to her left breast. He tried to pull away, but she had a firm grip on him. 

"Feel me up . . ." Here, she paused. "What's your name, anyway?"

His name? This woman, this total stranger, whom he'd just nodded hello to for the first time in his life twenty minutes ago when he boarded the train, had kidnapped his hand and was making him fondle her tit. And she was asking him his name? Acting like this was normal? Like this was what total strangers did upon meeting?

And yet, all he said was, "Brian."

She smiled. He tried to free himself from her grasp, but couldn't, or wouldn't—he wasn't sure which. The fat man who had gone to the restroom came back down the aisle, heading for his seat, and threw Brian and the woman a "what the hell do you think you're doing" look. But he said nothing.

She reached over to shake his free hand with her free hand. "Hey, Brian. I'm Susan. And it is Susan, okay? None of this Sue crap."

She let go of his free hand, but continued to pin the hand that was on her breast firmly in place.

"Pinch my nipple," she said then. He just stared at her, open-mouthed. "Do it, Brian." He did it. "Harder. I'm not a fucking china doll. I won't break." He pinched her harder. She smiled. He swallowed. This was fucked up, Totally fucked up. But her tit felt great. Her nipple felt perky and hard. 

Then, as unexpectedly as when she had grabbed his hand and placed it onto her breast, she pushed it away. Instinctively he resisted—for a second. His fingers were getting used to the feel of her full, round tit beneath the thin fabric of her summer blouse. But of course he let her push his hand away. Of course he did.

"Why'd you do that, Brian?"

"Do what?"

"Let me push your hand off my tit. You liked playing with my tit. Didn't you?" Again she was looking at him, looking into him, her blue eyes probing, prodding, like laser beams, like twin scalpels cutting into him, opening him up to her. . . . "Didn't you, Brian?"

"Well, I . . . yes. I mean, how could I not?"

She smirked at him, flicked her head back. Her light-blonde hair spilled over her shoulders like liquid gold. "Then why'd you let me push you away, if you liked it so much?"

"Well I didn't want to touch you if you didn't want me to . . ."

"I told you before, you can touch my tits. Didn't I?" She shook her head. "See? Just like I said. You're a coward. A people-pleaser. You do what everyone expects of you. Don't want to step on any toes, or pinch any nipples, as the case may be. Doesn't that fucking get you down after a while, Brian? I mean, really. Don't you sometimes just want to be a fucking man every once in a while?"

He shook his head. She didn't know what she was talking about.

"Don't I? When was the last time you actually asserted yourself, Brian? Stood up for something you believe in? Or don't you even have any strong beliefs?"

What the hell was she doing? Just a minute ago she had him touching her tit. Now she was rambling about strong beliefs? Damn. Why did she have to be the one he sat next to? Why couldn't he sit next to some nice, quiet old woman with her nose in a book, or some hairy fat dude with a fantasy football magazine. Anyone would have been better than this wacko.

"What's your take on abortion?" she asked then. 

Abortion? None of her business!

"I bet you don't have one. You can see both sides of the argument, right?"

He didn't answer. He wasn't going to be lured.

"How about the death penalty?" she pursued. "Should the murderers fry? Or just be put away?"

"Well . . ."

"Or the health-care crisis. You think there should be universal health care for everyone, Brian?"

"Well, that depends. I mean . ."

"See? Told you. You haven't got any firm convictions. You're fucking softer than cheese, Brian. I bet, when you go out to dinner with a date, you let her pick off the menu, for both of you. Am I right?"

Well . . . but what was wrong with being considerate? If his date didn't like what she ordered, she could always try what he had. And if she ordered for both of them, chances were she'd like at least one of the selections. 

She shook her head again, peered out the window. Dusk was descending like a veil. Looking past her, out the window, Brian saw the glow of a farmhouse porch light as it flickered on, a beacon in a sea of prairie grass and cornfields. 

"Pathetic," she said. "You're even worse than I thought. You probably don't even know who you are, Brian."

"Fuck you," he shot back.

"Mmmm, I'd love to," she said. "Where are you headed?"

That did it. Either this chick was high on something or a full-blown schizo. How else to explain it?

"Denver," he said. Why had he shared that? Why? Maybe she was right. Maybe he just went along with what other people wanted of him, expected of him. Maybe he'd been that way all his life, and just never really thought about it.

"How about that," she said. "So am I." Perfect. Just fucking beautiful. "Taking a vacation. A little R & R. Much deserved, if I do say so myself. How about you, Brian? You on a trip? Or is Denver home?"

"No. I'm going on business." Yes. Business. His boss told him he wanted Brian to attend a seminar. The company would pay for it. Brian couldn't believe the extravagance. In this economy? "It'll give you a deeper perspective and appreciation of what we're trying to accomplish," his boss said. "It'll be worth its weight in gold." Brian doubted this very much—thought the idea was stupid. He wondered if by going on this company-provided field trip, he was forfeiting his raise for this year. After all, there was only so much money to go around. . . . 

But he didn't protest. If this is what the boss wanted him to do . . . 

"Good," Susan said. "We can stay at the same hotel, then. I didn't make any reservations. Where are you staying?"

There was no way he'd tell her, no way he'd spend one minute with her after they disembarked from the train.

He told her.

She smiled, licked her lips. "We'll have fun," she said. 

What was she talking about? Fun? She'd just told him he was pathetic.

"That doesn't mean I don't like you," she said. "It doesn't mean I don't think you're extremely fuckable. It doesn't even mean I think you're hopeless. I think I just might be able to help you, Brian."

He didn't want her damn help. He just wanted to be left alone. But he didn't say anything more about it. They still had a long night of travel ahead of them. Hopefully he'd fall asleep, and she'd fall asleep, and she'd forget the whole thing. When they woke up in the morning, they'd ride in silence, get off at Denver, and go their separate ways.

♣

"So, where's our hotel?" she said when they got off the train. It was morning, and a strong Rocky mountain sun was shining down on LoDo from a deep blue, cloudless sky. It was the kind of morning that might cheer you up, refresh you, instill you with optimism. But the circumstances being what they were, he felt anything but optimistic.

"Look, I . . ."

She touched his lips with her finger. He noticed how long and perfect her nails were. He'd noticed on the train, too. And he'd noticed other things. Her tits, of course. He'd been up close and personal with those. She was a knockout. Tall, slim, shapely, with full, sensuous lips and a thin, long nose that looked sharp enough to cut glass. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't attracted to her. But still, this was crazy.

"It's okay," she said. "I won't get in your way, Brian. I know you're here on business. So you do what you have to do. But we can still share a room. I'll find things to entertain myself, don't worry. But when you get back from your day, when I get back from my day . . . we can laugh and play and fuck each other's brains out all night long. Now. How does that sound?"

A wave of unreality crashed over him. This sort of thing never happened to guys like him. He didn't know if he should feel scared, bitter, ambivalent, or downright lucky. He looked her over again—the full breasts, the hour-glass figure, the long blonde hair. What the hell. When would he ever get another chance like this?

"That's the spirit," she said.

♣

He barely listened to the presentation at the seminar later that day. His mind kept wandering to Susan. He wondered what she would look like, unwrapped, naked, standing before him in their hotel room overlooking downtown Denver, with lust in those penetrating blue eyes. Without even being aware of it, he was getting a hard-on. But then he thought about the train ride, the way she had analyzed him, insulted him. 

Told the truth.

She was right. He was a people-pleaser, had been all his life. It was such a default mode to him, he did it without thinking. He did anything and everything to fit in, to be liked. One time, on a trip to South Carolina, he'd even taken it upon himself to speak in a southern drawl. The funny thing was, he wasn't even aware of it until someone he was with pointed it out to him. Even now, that he was out West, he felt an urge to go buy himself a cowboy hat. 

Well, what did it matter? He'd have fun tonight. If he could just focus on having fun, that was. Too often, when he had a chance at an attractive woman, he blew it. Performance anxiety, he supposed. He tried so hard to please her, to be the lover of her dreams, that all he ended up doing was cumming too soon, deflating too soon. One time, when he had a sexy Italian woman on her knees before him, her lips on his cock, he felt his manhood shrink, grow soft. He was worried that she might not like his dick, that he wasn't big enough, wasn't handsome enough. 

The Italian woman slapped him, stormed away. She was insulted, and told him so. No man had ever gone soft while she sucked him before. He tried to stop her, tell her it was his fault, it had nothing to do with her. He was just nervous, insecure.

But it was too late. She was already gone.

♣

"So, how was your day, Brian?" she asked. It was seven thirty. They were sitting at the little round table by the window, which overlooked downtown. There was still a lot of activity on the streets below, but things were starting to mellow, at least momentarily—another workday having come and gone. Time for the residents to go home to their families for a quiet evening, or change into something more comfortable for a night on the town, or go to some bar and get plastered, bemoaning their mistakes, their rejections, their choices, their lost opportunities. 

"Good," he said. She had bought a bottle of wine, and it stood there, between them, on the table. He poured himself a glass of it, offered to pour some for her. She nodded, held out her glass. "How about you?"

"Jesus," she said. "I must have spent about two thousand dollars today. I never realized Denver was such a great shopping town. I'll probably spend twice that much tomorrow."

Yeah. He'd kind of guessed she was rich. She had that feel to her. He looked out the window again. In the distance, to the west, the high peaks of the Front Range glistened like diamonds under the setting sun. He wondered if he'd get a chance to drive up into the mountains before he needed to head back East. He hoped so.

"So," she said, and stood up. She had downed her glass of wine already. "You ready to fuck?"

She wasn't one to beat around the bush, was she?

He should have just said yes, gotten lost in the moment, let her have her way with him, this luscious blonde whom he'd met by chance on his trip to the West. And all because he was afraid to fly. His boss had scoffed. "Flying is the safest way to go," he'd said, but he didn't mind sending Brian on the train. "Enjoy the ride," he'd said with a laugh. 

But he wasn't able to get lost in the moment. He wasn't able to forget the things she had said to him on the train.

"How did you . . . how did you know?" he asked her. "I mean, how could you tell? You know, I mean . . ."

"How could I tell that you're a spineless people-pleaser, a phony, a fake?" she asked. He winced at her words. Why the hell did she want to fuck him? And what's more, why did he want to fuck her?

She took off her blouse, revealing a white lace bra. Her tits looked great, encased in that bra. D-cups. Well, okay—so there were good reasons why he wanted to fuck her. . . . But that still didn't answer the first question.

"Let's just say I have a knack," she went on, as she unzipped her slacks, pulled them down her long, toned legs. She had the legs of a colt—she had to be close to six feet tall, nearly as tall as he was. "I'm able to recognize people who are conflicted, who don't allow themselves to be real. I saw it in you right away, Brian."

"But . ."

She went to him, motioned for him to raise his arms above his head. He did. She took his shirt off, flung it onto the floor. She leaned in to kiss him. He wanted to push her away, talk some more. His whole life suddenly felt like a joke to him, a stage play, a façade. 

But her lips were so soft and insistent. Her tongue so lively and skilled. How could he resist? They kissed for a long while, and she ran her long, manicured fingernails along his chest, scraping his nipples, twirling what little chest hair he had. She tasted so good, much better than the wine. And she smelled good, too. What was that perfume she was wearing? It was intoxicating, heightening his arousal.

Next thing he knew, she was undoing his belt, unbuttoning his dress pants, pulling them down. Before he could get his bearings, his briefs were down at his ankles and Susan was squatting before him, his cock in her hand, as she smiled up at him.

"I love giving head," she said. 

He swallowed, took a deep breath. He was only five and a half inches. He had always been ashamed of that. Would she disapprove? Maybe she figured he was only half-erect, and when she played with him more, he'd grow and grow and grow.

But he wouldn't! He was fully erect now! 

He felt her lips embrace his shaft. God! It felt good, too good. But she was too beautiful, she had probably fucked guys twice his size. She could easily walk into any bar in LoDo, right now, and get any guy she wanted. Why the fuck was she with him? He couldn't compete with those guys. He couldn't—

He felt himself deflate, as though someone had stuck a pin in his shaft, letting out all the air and blood and hormones. His cock shriveled up in her mouth.

"I'm . . . I'm sorry, Susan. I just got, um, a little nervous. I . . ."

She stood up, silenced him with a kiss. A good kiss, with a lot of tongue.

"It's okay," she said. "Don't worry about it."

How could she be so nice, so understanding? He guessed she'd put her blouse and slacks back on, race out of the room, and go find some other guy, some better guy, with whom to spend the night. And besides, she'd belittled him already, on the train. Why the turnabout now?

"Lie down, on the bed," she said. He did. She reached behind her, unhooked her bra, let it fall away. Her breasts were magnificent. And they were as tanned and bronzed as the rest of her. Next, she slid her panties down her legs. Her mound was shaved, hair-free. She was perfect, really. But all this knowledge did was make him even more nervous, made him feel even more unworthy of her.

He felt her hand on his dick, then her lips. Surprisingly, he became good and stiff again. Yeah, all five-plus inches. But her lips felt so good on his shaft. If he could just lose himself in the sensations, let himself give in. That's what she wanted of him, wasn't it? To let go? Not to worry so much about pleasing others? To just be himself? 

He moaned as she licked his balls, and squeezed his shaft with her hand at the same time. Then she let go, scraped her fingernails along his underside, teasing, tantalizing. Suddenly he felt a surge, a rushing river, deep inside him. No! Not this. Not now. He'd let himself go, gave into the pleasure, and this was the result?

"Shit! I'm cumming," he said.

She stopped fondling him, leaned forward, put her mouth over his cock, and drank him in as he squirted into her mouth. 

"Mmm, you taste good," she said when he had finished. She licked her lips.

"You're not mad?"

"Mad? Why should I be? Besides, we've only just started. I'll get you hard again in no time, trust me. Want me to show you?"

"Yes, please." God, he was pathetic. He really was. 

Again she sucked him, again her fingers and her lips worked their magic on him. He loved the way her long blonde hair looked, loose, unencumbered, as it hung low over her face and tickled his stomach, his thighs, his groin. A blonde waterfall.

Sure enough, he was hard again. 

She got up, went to her handbag, pulled out a condom. She bit into the wrapper, freeing the condom, and then draped it over his dick. He felt so stupid. He felt like a child, a boy—his dick was too fucking small to fill out the condom. It was made for a man, with a real dick, not a damn mini joystick. He was sure it wouldn't fit properly. But it did fit, and once again, she gave no hint, no sign, of disapproval with him.

She lowered herself onto him, and even through the condom he felt how moist she was, how warm and aroused her pussy. She was ready for a good fucking, wanting him to pleasure her, to bring her over the top. But could he? How did she like it? Slow or fast? Soft or hard? Should he thrust into her, or just lie back and let her ride him?

He felt conflicted—there were so many options! So many ways to screw this up. And if he screwed this up, he doubted she'd remain patient with him. He had to do his part, had to give her what she wanted.




Skin Deep



But then she was pulling out of him. No. That wasn't accurate. He had shriveled out of her. She had been riding him, rubbing her clit against his shaft, but now, there was no shaft left. He had deflated again, his cock turning to Jell-O. It had turtled up, gone back into its shell. 

He couldn't look at her. He turned his face away. He desperately wanted to cover up his nakedness, too. 

But as he sat up, ready to make a beeline for his pants, she held him in place.

"Huh-uh," she said. "You're not gonna run from this one, Brian."

She was looking at him the way she had in the train, her eyes probing, searching, scanning. His physical nakedness felt like nothing under the weight of that stare. She was seeing way past his skin, his floppy failure of a cock. She was seeing straight through to his heart.

"You're gonna talk to me, Brian. I told you earlier that I think I can help you, remember?"

He just sat there.

"Remember?"

Yes. He remembered.

"How old are you?"

"Thirty-two," he said. He was ashamed to admit it. Shouldn't he have accomplished something of real value by now, by the age of thirty-two? But what had he accomplished, really?

"How old do you think I am?" she said.

Shit. He hated when women asked him that. You could never give the right answer. If you guessed too old, they were insulted. If you guessed too young, they might be flattered. But they might be pissed, too—for a whole host of reasons. What could he say?

"I'm forty-six," she said. 

Forty-six? No way! She looked his age. How could she be forty-six?

"I used to be like you," she said. "Always wanting people to like me, to like what they saw when they looked at me. I wanted to walk into a room and see all the guys' heads turn. I wanted to see tents in the crotches of their jeans and know I was the one who had put them there. So you see? We're really a lot alike."

"But I . . ."

"You need to get your head out of your ass is what you need, Brian," she said. "You're actually a cute guy, do you know that? And I know what your problem with your cock is. But it's not too small, Brian. It'd work just fine if you'd let it."

He was speechless. But underneath it all, he felt redeemed. She had given him a compliment. She had even complimented his cock. Maybe he wasn't so bad, after all.

She shook her head, sighed. Had she noticed the slight change in him, the turn his thoughts had taken? Was he really so transparent? 

"It shouldn't make a fucking difference, one way or the other, what I think of you, don't you know that?"

No. He didn't. He really didn't know that.

"You have to like yourself, Brian. The fuck with me or anybody else. But first, you have to know yourself. It's kind of hard to like someone if you don't know them first. You spend so much time worrying about measuring up to everyone else's expectations, trying to fit in with whoever you're with . . . how can you even know what you want?"

Yeah. Like the way he wanted to buy a cowboy hat today, the way he spoke "southern" while in Carolina. The way he said words like "yo" and "cool" when he was around people who talked that way. He normally did not, but if the people he was with did . . . 

He suddenly felt like he needed to share something. It was mind-boggling that he hadn't even noticed these qualities about himself before. He felt them, maybe, suspected them. But he hadn't ever taken a step back and looked at himself objectively.

He laughed—not out of joy, but out of something else—regret. Longing. Wistfulness. 

"When I was in high school," he said, " I really wanted to join the tennis team. I hadn't really played tennis much, but I always liked it when I watched it, y'know? The angles of the game, the symmetry, they appealed to me somehow. But when I told my dad about it, he told me I couldn't. He said tennis was a sissy sport, and if I wanted to go out for a team it should be football or basketball—something like that."

"So what'd you do?" Susan asked. But her expression told him she already knew the answer.

He shrugged. "I didn't go out for the team. Didn't go out for anything."

He expected her to flame him again, tell him he was a sorry excuse of a man. But she just sidled in beside him, snuggled up to him, and kissed his cheek. He couldn't figure her out. As soon as he thought he had her pegged, she did something to throw his entire picture of her out of whack.

"What was that for?" he wanted to know. He liked the feel of her body pressed firmly against his. Damn, she was beautiful. He still couldn't wrap his head around the fact that she was pushing fifty years old.

"Like I said, you remind me a lot of myself."

He snorted. She seemed as different from him as anyone he'd ever met. She was confident, assertive, went after what she wanted. She was real, not a phony like him. Not someone who changed her speech patters to fit in with the crowd, or listened to counsel she didn't agree with.

"I want to show you something," she said. 

She slid away from him, stood up, padded across the floor to her handbag. He admired her nakedness, the way her tits didn't sag, the firm roundness of her butt cheeks. He wondered if she'd perhaps been a model when she was younger.

She pulled something out of her bag, came back to the bed. Again she cozied up beside him.

"Look at this picture," she said. It was clearly an older picture—it had an old-school look about it. It was a photo of a young woman, homely, with a bulbous nose, glasses, stringy brown hair, and crooked teeth. Her breasts were small, and she was skinny. Tall and skinny. 

"So?" he said. "Who's that supposed to be?"

She smiled. "Me."

He blinked, once, twice, several times. He looked at the photo again, then at the beautiful blonde beside him. How . . .?

"That picture was taken of me when I was going to college. I was twenty-one. Not so easy on the eyes, was I?"

He coughed, and she laughed. 

"Exactly," she said. "Remember how I told you I wanted to be pretty, wanted the guys to be attracted to me, wanted people to like me? Well, I felt like those were just pipe dreams. I mean, I was ugly. So I just applied myself. Got a 4.0 GPA, and made a success of myself. I wanted to make a lot of money, and I did. You know why?"

He just sat there, waiting for her to go on. 

"So I could save enough to get my face worked on, to get my tits worked on. These aren't real, you know." She squeezed her tits.

"They look real enough," he said lamely. They had felt real, too, when he'd touched them. At least he'd thought they had.

"Thank you," she said. "Like I said, I earned a lot of money. Went to the best surgeons. These aren't real, either," she said, and smiled, showing off her mouthful of white, perfect teeth. "This mouth cost me a fortune, Brian. And you already know I'm not a natural blonde."

So it seemed, yes . . .

"And I had my nose done. They made it too pointy, but it's better than what I had, don't you think? And of course the fingernails are fake. And I've had work done on my face, and my ass . . . So you see, Brian, there's not much real about me, is there?"

He said nothing. What could he say?

"You know, I don't usually show this picture to my lovers." She looked away from him. "I just let them think I'm genuine, that it's their lucky night, y'know? Maybe that's why I haven't had a serious relationship with anyone, all these years. I'm too afraid to let them see me. The real me."

"But you showed me," he said.

"Yeah." She looked at him again. "So . . . do you want me to leave? I wouldn't blame you if you did."

He swallowed. No. He didn't want her to leave, and he told her that. He also said: "Besides, you remind me a lot of me."

She laughed, gave him a nudge. But it was a good nudge, a friendly nudge. 

He kissed her cheek, her pointed, surgically-repaired nose, her forehead, her lips. At first she was nonresponsive, just letting him kiss her. But then she kissed him back, and there was a hunger in her, a passion. It radiated through her, through her lips, which, like a conduit, passed it on to him.

He kissed her neck, worked his way down to her fake breasts—which looked and felt so real. Imitation to mimic reality. A show to look good, to fit in with what society wanted, to get the approval of others. He felt a wave of compassion for this woman, and, for the first time in years, for himself.

He stuck out his tongue, licked her stomach, down to her belly button. He inserted his tongue into it, and she giggled, reached down, ran her fingers through his hair. 

He kissed her hips; her smooth, hairless, mound; her inner thighs; and then licked the lips of her vagina. She was wet, so wet. 

"Mmmm," she purred. And he realized, he wanted her more than he had ever wanted anyone. He wanted to fuck her like there was no tomorrow, to let loose as he never had before. 

"Fuck me, Brian," she said, as if reading his thoughts.

And he did fuck her. He fucked her deep into the night. They fucked missionary style, then she rode him, then he took her doggy style, then standing up. And not once did he worry about his dick, his shortcomings as a lover, his old insecurities that had always risen up in the past, stripping him of pleasure. He just fucked her, pleasured her, loved her.

And when it was through, when the fire and lust of lovemaking had been replaced by the easy, pleasurable glow of post-coitus, they snuggled together on the bed, the first, shy hints of dawn streaming through the window, the city slowly waking up, coming to life, like a great, giant organism recovering from a restless nap. Voices rang out from the street, rising, filtering into the room. Car horns honked. Another day. Another beginning. Another chance.

Only this time, he knew, he would seize it. He already had.

She was sleeping now. He looked at her, at the mask she wore, fitted and perfected by the plastic surgeons. But he wasn't seeing the mask. He saw beneath it, behind it, saw the insecure college girl in the old picture, with the crooked teeth, the stringy brown hair, the unsightly nose, the skinny, curveless body. And he couldn't resist. He didn't want to wake her, but he couldn't resist.

He kissed her.

She stirred, blinked, moaned, as if trying to register where she was, who she was . . . 

"Ugh," she said, turning her face away. "I must look awful."

"So . . . what's your take on abortion?" he asked. "Or the death penalty?"

She turned to look at him. 

"Hah. I knew it would work." He smiled.

She slapped him on the thigh. "Asshole," she said, but she was smiling, too.

He leaned in to kiss her. "You look beautiful, Susan."

And then, thinking about the past twenty-four hours, the journey they had shared, the discoveries they had made together, he said the only thing he could think of, the only thing that seemed appropriate . . . 

"Thank you."

She opened her mouth, then closed it. She hugged him, hard, holding him close, so close. "No, Brian," she said. "Thank you."



Skin Deep



Laura stood in front of my bed with her legs crossed, and her pinky finger pressed against her lips. Her sapphire eyes sparkled in the candlelight as she turned her head, and her blonde locks flowed over the shoulders of her black blazer.

She bent over, allowing the tops of her luscious breasts to spill out of the front of her blouse, as she undid the straps of her heels, then stood back up, dragging her fingers over her long tan legs, and the front of her skirt.

She popped the lone button, letting the skirt fall to the ground, and then stepped out of it, kicking off her heels as she slipped off her blazer, and her hands raced to the buttons at the top of her blouse.

I had been so busy following her fingers as they travelled over her body, that it took me a moment to realize that her white lacy panties were crotchless, and her freshly shaven pussy lips were exposed for my viewing pleasure. She popped open the front of her shirt, took it off, and threw it on the floor.

Her soft pink areola and hard nipples were visible through the front of her bra. She pushed them forward, as she reached around the back, and undid the hook. Her hands came forward and cupped her breasts as they fell out in front of me.

She dropped one hand to her crotch, as the other continued to massage her breast, and her fingers twisted her nipple.

As she lifted her chin, her eyes rolled back in their sockets, and her face was alive with pleasure. Her hips began to sway, and her knees trembled, as her fingers twisted over her hood.

She let out a quiet, but very high pitched squeal as she lowered her head and lifted her breast. A shiver ran down her spine as her tongue circled her nipple, and her fingers clawed at her clit.

Moisture gathered around her fingers as she split her lips and then pushed them inside to the first knuckle. Her tits were firm enough, that even when she bent over, they stood out straight as if they were calling to me.

Laura turned around, sliding her panties over her hips. Her ass cheeks were full and round and they spread just far enough for me to see her lower lips open as she bent over again. 

She flipped her panties toward me as she backed up and sat down on the bed. Her legs were spread wide, so I not only saw her pussy lips but felt like I was staring deep inside her being.

Her whole body had been exposed now, and I had a great full frontal view. She had told me quite often that she spent a lot of time at the gym, but I was still surprised at the muscles rippling through her arms, stomach and thighs.

There was a very noticeable bulge in my pants, and the only thing that was stopping me from lunging forward and ravishing her drop dead figure, were the ropes binding my wrists and ankles to the chair. I tried to get her attention as I choked on the gag she had forced into my mouth, but apparently she wasn't finished torturing me with her pleasure.

She laid back, bending her knees and bringing one foot up onto the bed, so I could see every inch of her snatch as her fingertips slid up and down the folds between her legs, and brushed over her taint as they twirled around the tightness of her asshole. When her pussy was nice and wet again she plunged a finger inside, moving it in and out as she drove herself, twitching and screaming, to the edge of climax.

I gripped the arm of the chair with my fist, and dug my heels into the carpet as I prepared myself to watch an earth shattering orgasm take place right in front of me, on my bed. She stopped just shy, letting her hands climb to her nipples, and then she stood up.

She strutted toward me seductively, and when she was standing right in front of me, she reached into my pocket. I thought she was digging around for my dick, but instead she pulled out my pocket knife.

She flipped it open, and held the blade against my cheek as she sliced through the gag. Then she knelt down, her face just inches from my rock hard cock as she freed my arms and legs.

She stood up, and I tried to stand too, but she pushed me down firmly with a hand on top of my head. My knees hit the ground hard, but I felt like I was floating somewhere above the clouds. 

She pulled me toward her, and the sweet smell surrounded me just moments before I tasted her. I kissed her passionately, letting my tongue explore her lips, and button, before letting it slip into the wetness.

She pushed her hips forward as I nibbled on the tender flesh of her thighs, and then sucked the skin of her pussy lips between my teeth. She moaned as I let my lips wander up the front of her crotch, and my hands reached around to her firm backside. 

She grabbed my wrist, lifted me to my feet, ordered me to undress, and then led me to the bed. I wanted to push her forward, mount her from behind, and take her doggy style, but she had other plans.

She lay on her back again, and pulled me on top of her, as she slipped up to the head of the bed. My hands fell onto her breasts, and her mouth rose up to mine.

She stared deep into my eyes, as her fingers searched for my dick, and formed a fist around my shaft. She pulled me forward and guided me inside her.

As wet as she was, She was tighter then I had imagined. I felt her muscles contract, and she squeezed down on my tip as I pushed myself inside her.

She let out a deep moan, and her facial expression turned from casual, to a look of pleasure and discomfort as I rocked back and forth on top of her.

She appeared vulnerable, maybe even a bit scared, as my hips thrust faster and deeper. Her nails tore down my back, leaving a sting as they made their way to my eager butt cheeks.

I felt the first taste of pleasure splash over me as her smooth lining pulled at the soft, under skin of my dick head. I bucked, and a moan escaped from my lips as she clamped down on me again, enveloping my whole member this time.

She trembled below me, and her eyes flickered, as my legs cinched up and started to tire. I pushed through the pain, driving deeper, as she gripped the headboard and let out a scream.

She didn't even have to tell me she was about to cum, because I could feel her tighten, involuntarily this time, as a rush of warm fluids gushed over my cock and sent a fury rushing through me.

Her expression changed, and each moan seemed to coincide with every thrust as I continued to pound into her. "Please..." She begged.

Her teeth bit into my shoulder, as her fingernails burrowed deeper into my ass cheeks, and her hips thrust upward to meet mine.

She had told me earlier, when we met for the first time at the sex shop just off of the freeway, that she had been with quite a few men over the years, and even a handful of women, but somehow they had only managed to give her one weak orgasm between the bunch of them.

"I've always wondered if it's just me." She said, as she picked up a giant black dildo. "I've been with guys of all shapes and sizes, girls that could do incredible things with their fingers and tongues, but my mind just never seems to be in the right place."

We laughed together about the butt plugs and nipple clamps, and I led her over to the whips and paddles. "Been there and done that." she said. "I've been tied up, gagged, beaten and bruised, had my hair pulled and choked, but there is always something missing."

It wasn't until later, when she spilled her guts to me over a cup of coffee that I realized what was missing.

She had always been the prettiest girl around, and guys had only been interested in her for what she could do for them. She had been a target, ultimately a prize that they could show off to their friends and family. Women, including her mother, had been jealous of her, and had been trying to capture her, in hopes of stealing some of her essence.

I wasn't going to lie. When I had first laid eyes on her, my libido had soared, and I had been guilty of being ensnared by her charms, but fortunately I had seen something deeper. She had an intense desire to love, to bare her soul to someone, which had been buried by all the beautiful things she covered herself with.

It hit me that none of our phone conversations to this point had been about her selling herself to me. She had simply been exploring my inner being, trying to find out what made me who I was, and I could tell that even though her whole life had been built behind a mask, it didn't bother her at all that I didn't need to wear one.

Her back arched and a crazy primal sound started deep in her throat, and gurgled to the surface. I knew the end was near, so I finally let myself go. 

My seed released inside her, and as we lay there trembling together, I knew we had some special.

It was illogical to believe that this was forever, or that I had found my soul mate. One thing was for certain though, what we had shared, was way more than skin deep.



Skin Deep: Green with Envy



Chris Woodson took a moment to look at himself in the mirror before getting dressed. He was still amazed at the progress he has made. Just five years ago he was considered to be obese. After countless jokes at his expense from family and friends, Chris decided to make some changes in his diet, and become more active. Eventually he was able to transform into a solid block of muscle, which complemented his six foot three inch frame. Chris also had hazel colored eyes that stood out against his milk chocolate complexion, giving him an exotic look. Even though he was no longer teased for being overweight, Chris was still insecure, and unsure of himself at times, hindering him from being successful with the ladies. Despite having an easy going personality.

"Well I guess I better get dressed for this party." Chris said making his way to the closet to pick an outfit.

The party in question was not really a party at all, but more of a birthday gathering for David Smith, a guy that Chris has known half his life. Chris dreaded going to the party because Brook Myers would be there. She was a friend of David's wife. Chris did not care for her because she came off as arrogant, and always had to be the center of attention. Her vanity was a huge turn off for Chris, and he hated every time she was around. When he would ignore her she seemed to go above and beyond to get his attention. Like she needed his validation despite not having any problems getting other guys to show her attention.

Meanwhile across town...

"Would you hurry up Natalie. You have literally tried on like fifty outfits. Just pick something and let's go." Brook whined.

"Well I don't want to look like the Michelin Man, Brook." Natalie shot back.

Brook Myers and Natalie Wilson have been friends since the second grade. Brook was considered to be the better looking of the two. Since she was a little over five feet with shoulder length blonde hair, and emerald green eyes. Though she was only a C cup her tiny frame made her chest appear larger than it actually was. Natalie on the other hand was quite the opposite of her petite friend, standing at close to six feet with dark blue eyes, long wavey red hair that stopped a little passed her shoulder blades, and full lips that concealed the prettiest smile you would ever see. Natalie's main drawback was her size. She was a little overweight and stood taller than most guys. So it came as no surprise that Brook always got the most looks, whenever they were out together.

Natalie thought her luck had changed when she met Jeremy Turner. When they first got together he was like a dream come true. But as time went on his true colors came out. He would insult Natalie any chance he got, and on top of that he kept her on a tight leash. Only allowing her to visit family and work acquaintances, as long as they were female. Sex was the main reason Natalie stayed around for as long as she did. Though she hated how Jeremy controlled her every move socially, she loved it behind closed doors. But eventually she grew tired of his controlling ways and mustered up the courage to break free. Even though Natalie was able to leave Jeremy she still had the emotional baggage from the ordeal, causing her to become an introverted recluse. So it took an act of Congress every time Brook wanted Natalie to come out with her.

Natalie finally decided on a green and black chevron print shirt, some jeans, and a pair of black flats. "Ok I'm ready now. You happy Brook."

"Yes!! Finally!! That took forever." Brook said, while ushering Natalie to the door, before she changed her mind again.

It was decided beforehand to meet at a restaurant, that way David's wife would not have to worry about cleaning up, or any other stress that was involved with having people over.

David and his wife got to the restaurant fifteen minutes early so they could save a seat for everyone. One by one people started to show up, until everyone but Chris was there.

"You sure you told Chris the right time and place babe?" David questioned Sherry, his wife.

"Yes dear." Sherry said rolling her eyes. "You know Chris is never known to be punctual."

"Oh this is just freaking awesome." Natalie grumbled inwardly. "I already don't want to be here and now I have to suffer because this Chris jerk can't tell time." She said to herself.

As everyone got settled in, Chris finally made his entrance, and any hostile thoughts Natalie had towards him quickly disappeared as he made his way to the table. Though she had never really been attracted to black guys, it was something about Chris's smile, and the way his hazel colored eyes contrasted against his skin tone, that caught Natalie's attention. But her admiration came to a halt as Brook got up to greet Chris.

"Chris!! Over here." Brook jumped up waving her hands, then entangling her arms around his waist soon as he was close enough.

"Of coarse." Natalie said under her breath. "Is there no guy that Brook doesn't know?"

"Oh hey Brook." Chris said, as he gave her a pained smile and half-hearted embrace, before gently breaking away, and joining everyone at the table.

Natalie was flabbergasted at the way Chris gently brushed Brook to the side after greeting her, since most guys would kill for any kind of attention from her Barbie sized friend. "Guess you never know." Natalie whispered to herself.

"It's about time you decided to show up." David jabbed at his long time friend.

"Man you know I function on black people time. So in my book I'm actually a few minutes early." Chris laughed.

All the other seats were taken except the one directly across from Natalie. As Chris looked around, the only person he did not recognize was Natalie, so he took the chance to formally introduce himself. 

"Hi I'm Chris." He said, extending his hand to Natalie.

"Oh hi I'm Natalie, Brook's friend." Natalie said gently taking Chris's hand, but avoiding direct eye contact.

"Well it is a pleasure to meet you." 

"Likewise." Natalie said, still refusing direct eye contact with Chris.

Chris noticed that during the coarse of the dinner that Natalie was not saying much. He knew all too well what it is like to be the odd man out. So he took it upon himself to make Natalie feel more comfortable.

"Yeah I completely agree with Natalie over here." Chris blurted out. Earning a strange look from Natalie, and a burst of laughter from everyone else.

"Um yeah." Natalie said, as her face flushed a light color of pink, and she sunk down in her seat. 

"I like a lady that can take a few words and make them meaningful. If she were to run for office she would have my vote." Chris said, hoping he did not embarrass Natalie too much.

It ended up working, because Natalie was now joining in on the conversation. It even got to the point where she loosened up enough to exchange small talk between Chris and herself. Pretty soon it was getting late so everyone said their goodbyes, and went their own way.

"Wow Natalie. I can't believe Chris actually talked to you." Brook said breaking her silence, as they drove home.

"Yeah he seems to be pretty cool." Natalie said, downplaying her excitement that a guy gave her more attention than Brook.

"Yeah he is ok, I guess." Brook said, concealing the fact she was upset at the notion that Chris said more to Natalie at the dinner than all the times combined when they would all hang out, before Natalie was in the picture.

"Thanks for forcing me to come out." Natalie said to Brook.

"You're welcome. I'm just glad you enjoyed yourself." Which was only partially true. She was glad to get her friend out of the house, but she was still mad that Chris pretty much ignored her. 

Which was part of the reason she insisted on Natalie coming along in the first place. Brook hoped that Chris would see her as the better looking of the two and finally give her the attention she craved. It was not like she had a hard time getting a guy's attention, but she saw Chris as a challenge, and if she could get him to pay attention to her then that would be a huge notch in her belt. Unfortunately for Brook, Natalie would beat her to it.

The next day Chris debated on whether he would get David to ask Sherry to get some more info on Natalie. After thinking it through he decided against it. Since he did not want to come off as a creep.

Even after every bone in Natalie's body protested, she decided to send Chris a friendly thank you message on Facebook. Doing so paid off because Chris was very eager to reply back. After about fourty minutes of going back and forth they both decided it would be easier to exchange numbers.

The progression between Chris and Natalie started off slow. But eventually they got around to exclusively dating one another, causing Natalie to be happy that she found a guy like Chris. A man who treated her like a princess, no matter how much she thought she did not deserve it. Eventually she would succumb to Chris's reassurance. With his support Natalie started to have more confidence in herself. Especially after adapting to his active lifestyle. In the three months they have been dating Natalie managed to lose fifteen pounds and she could not be happier with herself.

Brook on the other hand was far from happy. Though she never had a problem getting a guy, she had trouble keeping them, because she was void of any substance outside of being a freak in the bedroom. So even though she was jealous of Natalie when she was with Jeremy, Brook took pride in the fact that it was a fractured relationship. But with Chris things were different. She was hoping his nice guy persona was a just a facade. Brook knew it was a false hope, because even after being together three months Chris showed no signs of treating Natalie anything less than royalty. Which really vexed her because she felt that it should be her instead of Natalie.

Although Natalie was satisfied with the way things were between her and Chris, she missed the animalistic passion in which she and Jeremy use to have sex. Chris was good at reading her body and getting her to climax, he just lacked the ruggedness behind closed doors she had become use to. Seeing that was his only flaw Natalie was willing to let it slide. 

Eventually Brook found a boyfriend of her own. His name was Ricardo Vega. According to Brook they were only friends with benefits, although they seemed to hang out all the time, and acted as if they were a couple, but on more than one occasion Brook let it be known that all Ricardo was good for was sex and nothing more.

At first Natalie was glad that Brook found someone to keep her occupied. Since Chris let it be known in a tasteful way that he did not much care for Brook. Natalie in turn understood, and respected Chris's feelings because Brook kept trying to throw doubt on the legitimacy of her and Chris's relationship. Soon that gladness would turn into jealousy, due to her becoming sexually frustrated with Chris, since he still could not fully satisfy her, and all Brook would do is brag about Ricardo's skill between the sheets.

While Natalie was with Jeremy all of her friends but Brook ostrisized her. So after they broke up, Brook was all she really had until Chris came along, but for the past few days he has been working extra, leaving her by herself, since Brook spent most of her time with Ricardo, even though they are not together.

"So is Chris working late again?" Brook asked, using air quotes as she was getting dressed.

"Yeah he is working late again." Natalie sighed.

"Well I hope he is just working, and not working on someone else." Brook said, sewing seeds of doubt whenever she could.

"No I trust him Brook. He has been a man of his word so far." 

"If you say so Natty." Brook said. "I just don't want you getting hurt."

"Trust me he is nothing like Jeremy." Natalie said. "Nothing at all." She still lamented the fact that Chris was such a gentle lover. But she did not know how to bring it up, because she was afraid it may hurt his feelings, or worse yet, lead him to want to break up with her.

Chris on the other hand had no clue about Natalie's sexual frustration. In his mind since he was able to make her climax at least twice per session he thought he was doing good. His friend David would sometimes talk about how he and his wife would engage in rougher than normal sex, and that nine out of ten ladies preferred it that way. Chris thought that the idea was crazy, and very disrespectful. He figured that it was only good for porn, and the rare crazy woman that got off on abuse. But he did not express his views with David, he just simply listened, and agreed. Despite not sharing David's outlook on the matter. 

As Brook put the finishing touches on her make-up, Ricardo was ringing the doorbell.

"Hey Natty could you get that for me? While I finish putting my make-up on."

As Natalie opened up the door it was all she could do to keep her jaw from dropping. Though she loved Chris's thickly muscled frame, Natalie had a weakness for well defined muscle structure. Which she could easily tell Ricardo possessed due to the form fitting t-shirt he wore, and the jeans he had on did very little to conceal the mini anaconda between his legs, causing Natalie to briefly have impure thoughts. 

Quickly coming to her senses Natalie let Ricardo in. "Umm Brook said she would be out in a minute."

"Alright cool. I'll just sit out here and wait on her. If that's okay with you babes." Ricardo said as he brushed passed Natalie.

"Umm yeah that's fine. Yeah that's good with me." Natalie stammered trying to find her voice as her body began to betray her.

Brook came out a few minutes later and noticed the look in Natalie's eyes as she sat on the opposite end of the couch talking to Ricardo. "Looks like there is trouble in paradise." She said to herself, as she signaled towards Ricardo that she was ready to go.

Natalie hoped her body language, or eyes did not give her away as she sat and talked to Ricardo. "I'm just window shopping." She told herself as Brook and Ricardo left.

Chris felt bad for telling Natalie he had to work late. He was working late but it was not mandatory. Chris had a good feeling about the direction him and Natalie were headed, so for their one year anniversary he planned on taking Natalie on a cruise. Which was not cheap, but he planned on paying for everything. So when his boss offered him some overtime Chris jumped at the chance to work. But since he has been working so late he has noticed a change in Natalie's behavoir. So after getting off work Chris thanked his boss for the chance but declined working any extra hours. 

As Chris headed home he called Natalie to tell her he did not have to work any extra shifts, because they finished with inventory faster than expected. Since it was such a late hour Natalie could not fully express how happy she was to have everything back to normal. So after bidding each other a good night Natalie rolled back over to go to sleep, only to have her sleep disturbed by Brook and Ricardo going at it.

"That's it pull my hair harder. Ram that cock in my tight little ass." Brook said between moans.

"Fucking show off." Natalie grumbled, using her pillow to shield her ears from any further noise. 

Natalie's attempts to muffle any noise coming from Brook's room were futile due to the paper thin walls. Soon a familiar feeling of excitement from earlier came upon Natalie as her thoughts started to stray, and she began to wonder what it would be like for her to be in Brook's place. "No no no I've got to get a grip." Natalie told herself. "Thinking about that stuff is worse than cheating."

After several failed attempts to go back to sleep, Natalie decided to give in to her urges, as her hand made its way into her panties, and between her legs. "I'm just doing this so I can go back to sleep." She told herself.

Her thoughts became more vivid, as Brook's moans were replaced with moans of her own, as she imagined Ricardo trying to stuff her rosebud with his monster cock. Natalie enjoyed anal sex from time to time but never thought to bring it up to Chris for fear he would find it repulsive. But what Chris liked and didn't like was put on the back burner as Natalie felt the inevitable climax approach, causing her to work her fingers faster and faster, until they were coated with her sticky liquid. Natalie used her pillow to muffle any cries of pleasure that escaped her lips during her climax. "Well it is all Chris's fault." She told herself in order to mentally justify her actions. Soon as her climax subsided Natalie was able to roll over and find the sleep that eluded her earlier.

The next morning Natalie woke up to discover there was a damp spot left as a reminder of last night's events. That is when the guilt of her actions began to sink in, and she started to feel remorse for what she did, but she quickly reminded herself that if Chris was there it would have never happened in the first place.

Over the next few months Natalie was able to abstain from repeating the events of that one night, when she decided to pleasure herself while thinking of Ricardo. By the time their six month anniversary was near Natalie had managed to lose close to twenty five pounds. With her new look, and boost in confidence she noticed guys paying more attention to her. It was mostly when it was just her and Brook, since Chris's imposing stature would deter most guys from looking. Brook also noticed that Natalie was getting more looks as well. Something that did not sit to well with her, since she was use to getting all the attention. So whenever she got the chance, Brook planned on knocking Natalie down a few pegs.

She would get that chance soon, because unbeknown to Chris, he was about to push Natalie over the edge. Chris's boss gave him the chance to work some more overtime, so Chris gladly agreed, because he thought that Natalie and himself had no plans for their six month anniversary. He would soon find out how wrong he was.

"You're doing what!" Natalie screamed into the phone at Chris.

"I planned on working late all next week babe. I didn't think it would be a big deal, since we didn't discuss any plans."

"Because it was suppose to be a fucking surprise Chris." Natalie continued to scream. "I had better go before I say something I'll regret." Natalie said hanging up the phone.

"Ok. love you." Chris said, but Natalie had already hung up.

"What was that all about?" Brook said as she entered the living room.

"Oh nothing." Natalie sighed, trying to calm herself down.

"Yeah right, people don't scream for nothing Natty." 

"It's just Chris can be so freaking dim sometimes." Natalie said, feeling herself get mad again. 

"Sometimes? Oh what all does he do to get the title of being called dim?" Brook said, trying to suppress her eagerness.

"Oh nothing." Natalie said dismissively, realizing she almost said something about Chris's gentle lovemaking.

"Well you are looking slim and trim now girl." Brook said egging on her friend. "You can have any guy you want so if Chris doesn't shape up it will be his loss."

"Ahh I'll be ok Brook. I'm just mad right now because he chose to work late on the day of our six month anniversary."

For the past few weeks Brook has noticed that Natalie has been paying more attention to Ricardo than usual, and since she was not really emotionally attached to him she had been thinking of a way to get him to hook up with Natalie, in order to cause a rift between the so-called happy couple. This way Brook could secretly get back at Chris for ignoring her. She also hoped Natalie became an emotional wreck, due to the guilt she would feel for cheating on Chris. If everything went according to plan Chris would find out and break up with Natalie, knocking the wind out of Natalie's sails, causing her to gain back the weight she lost, and damaging her newly built self esteem. That way people would focus mainly on her like they used to. Brook knew she was vain, but her looks was all she had. So if it meant screwing over a best friend to remain on the top, that is a price Brook was willing to pay. So when Natalie told her about Chris working next week. Brook figured this was the perfect time to set her plan in motion.




Skin Deep: Green with Envy



"Oh ok well Ricardo is being a dick, so I planned on going out of town to visit my sister, giving you and Chris some alone time here, since you seem to be always going to his place." Brook lied, because her and Ricardo were just fine, but she had to have Natalie believe otherwise. "But if you need me to stay, I can go some other time."

"No it's ok Brook. I'll just stay home and binge watch shows on Netflix."

"Ok, but if you need me just let me know." Brook said, showing mock concern as she made her way towards the door. "I'll be back soon. I have a few errands to run." Brook said on her way out.

The only errand Brook had to do was to head over to Ricardo's house and share with him her plan. Which was to get him to sleep with Natalie. 

"So lemme get this straight. You want me to go over by your place and hook up with your girl Natalie."

"You got it Einstien." Brook said as she could barely keep herself from smiling.

"Yeah ok, but why are you so willing to share me, and don't she got a man?"

"Well I believe in the greater good." Brook said before further explaining herself. "You and me are just fuck buddies. You know that, and I know that. Plus her boyfriend is a jerk. He would rather be working instead of spending time with Natalie, on what's suppose to be their six month anniversary." 

"What a pendejo!" Ricardo said.

"Yeah a huge one." Brook added. "So do I have your help or no?" She questioned. "By doing this you will help Natalie see that there are other fish in the sea."

"Ok count me in, but how do we know this will work, and if it does, who is to say she won't fall in love?"

"Oh Ricardo honey you boast too much." Brook said choking back a laugh. "Your dick is good, but not that good. Plus I've seen the way she looks at you, come next Thursday she will be ripe for the picking."

"Sounds like a plan. Long as you are cool with it."

Brook then proceeded to tell Ricardo her full plan. Explaining what she will tell Natalie, and what time he should show up on Thursday.

Chris was able to smooth things over with Natalie, and everything was going well. That is until the day of their six month anniversary. The wound Chris caused by working on that day was reopened, and Natalie did not have much to say. So whenever he called she kept it short and to the point. 

Brook called Natalie to check on her, but her real reason was to make sure Natalie would be home, so she could give Ricardo the signal to come over. About two hours had passed when Ricardo was knocking at the door.

"Oh hey Ricardo." Natalie said opening the door as her eyes inadvertently scanned him from head to toe, as he was wearing a tank top and basketball shorts. "Umm Brook is not here." She said, as her eyes continued to roam over Ricardo's body.

"Oh ok mind if I come in and wait for her then?" Ricardo said as he made his way past Natalie, and sat on the couch before she could respond.

"That's fine but you will be sitting there awhile." Natalie laughed nervously.

"It's cool. I got about two hours before my next game, so I got time."

"No you don't get it she is not coming back until Sunday. Didn't you know that?"

"Nah I didn't know that. In case you didn't know we have been fighting over dumb shit, and haven't been talking. So I thought I would come by and try to make things right between us."

"Oh ok. Yeah sorry you wasted your time coming by." Natalie said sympatheticly. "Let me at least get you something to drink before you go." Natalie said not believing her actions. "Chris would kill us both if he walked in right now."

"Nah I'm cool babes. I was wondering would you mind if I chill here for a bit, like I said earlier I have a game in two hours and would hate to drive all the way back home then turn around and come back out this way."

"Suit yourself, just be sure to lock the door on the way out." Natalie said making her way to her room, because she know there would be trouble if she stayed.

"Well that's no way to treat a guest." Ricardo said as a grin formed on his face. "Come and talk with me for a little bit. I won't bite."

Natalie felt her restraint lower even more as she sat down on the couch. "We are just talking," she told herself, "nothing is going to happen, he will be gone soon and all will be good."

While sitting there talking, Ricardo noticed that Natalie was becoming less tense around him, so he decided to move in for the kill.

"Hey could you do me a small favor mami?"

"Umm depends on the favor."

"It's cool if you can't do it, but I would really appreciate it if you could rub my neck and shoulders. That way I can be loosened up for my next game."

Natalie knew this was a bad idea but she justified saying yes by blaming Chris for working. "If he was here right now it would be him I would be doing this to." She said to herself, as she used her long, delicate fingers to knead the base of Ricardo's neck, while trying not to stare at his budding erection.

Ricardo knew that she was putty in his hand after catching her looking at his crotch. "Mmm those fingers are magic, if you want to you can use them to rub something else."

"I..I don't know what you are talking about." Natalie stammered like a kid being caught in the cookie jar.

"Bullshit!! You and I both know what you were looking at." Ricardo said as he stood up, letting his shorts and boxers fall to the ground. "C'mon you know you want to touch it." Ricardo said as he gently grabbed a hold to Natalie's wrist, and grazed her fingers along his semi hard shaft.

Natalie's eyes widened with amazement as she stared at Ricardo's cock, which was at least an inch and a half bigger than Chris's, and just as thick. "Wow it's so big." Natalie said as she continued to stroke Ricardo's shaft.

"Oh that's it, look how hard it gets when you touch it, but I know you want to do more than just touch it." Ricardo said as he gently guided Natalie to her knees. 

Completely hypnotized by the cock in front of her, Natalie got to her knees, and wasted no time running her tongue along Ricardo's swollen mushroom head. 

"Mmmm that's it, taste that dick. You know you want more." Ricardo said as he reached behind Natalie, cupping the back of her head in his hand, while inching his shaft into her mouth.

Feeling her body completely submit, Natalie pursed her lips around Ricardo's cock and used her tongue to massage the underside of his shaft. While working over his shaft with her mouth, Natalie used her hand to stroke the base of his cock, taking him in her mouth little by little, letting her jaw adjust to his girth. Eventually her jaw adjusted and she grabbed Ricardo's hips signaling for him to fuck her mouth. Ricardo started off with slow steady thrust at first, burying half of his cock in her mouth, then began to pick up the pace hitting the back of her throat each time.

"Damn that mouth feels like a velvet pillow." Ricardo groaned, as he fucked Natalie's face. "But enough of that mouth let's see how wet that pussy is."

Without saying a word Natalie stood up and stripped out of the shorts she was wearing, she even took off her top. Until now Chris had been the only one to see her body since the transformation. Now she was kind of happy she got to show off for someone else. Though she was not a fitness model, Natalie was glad she had flattened out her tummy, and trimmed down her waistline. 

After stripping out of her clothes Natalie plopped on the couch and spread her legs, showing Ricardo her neatly trimmed slit. "Mm that pussy looks nice and juicy, just the way I like it." Ricardo said rubbing his hands together, then bending down to eat Natalie's pussy.

"Oh my goodness yes Ricardo, that feels soo good." Natalie cried out as Ricardo used his tongue to attack her moist opening, while his lips slurped on her outer walls.

Hearing Natalie's cries of pleasure fueled Ricardo to keep going until her pussy was a overflowing fountain of nector that coated his lips and goatee. "Now that I got to taste that pussy it is time for me to give your pussy a taste of this dick." Ricardo said, as he guided his ten and a half inch cock into Natalie's soaking wet opening. 

"Ohh don't hold back, I want it all. I want you to really fuck me" Natalie commanded, as her eyes were glazed over with lust. She then wrapped her legs around Ricardo's waist, and dug her heels into his back, causing Ricardo to bury his entire shaft inside her.

"Damn girl you are a freak." Ricardo said between thrust. "I bet your man doesn't fuck you like this does he?"

Natalie wordlessly nodded her head no, as she put her legs on Ricardo's shoulders so he could fuck her deeper.

Feeling he was close to a climax, Ricardo decided to switch postions, so he could last a bit longer. "Get on them knees mami, so I can look at that ass, while that pussy takes this dick."

Still taken over by lust Natalie was able to find her voice again. "Why just look at it when you can fuck it." Natalie said with a sly grin, as she wiggled her ass.

"Oh shit!! Well you ain't gotta ask twice mami. Where's the lube at?"

"You got a tongue don't you. That's all the lube this ass needs."

Without saying another word Ricardo got behind Natalie and attacked her asshole with the same vigor he used to eat her pussy. Inserting his tongue inside her damp rosebud while his lips caressed her wrinkled pucker. By this point Natalie was beside herself, since no one had ever treated her asshole the way Ricardo has. Natalie dug her nails into the couch, and felt her eyes roll to the back of her head as Ricardo continued to use his mouth to lubricate her ass. 

There was a brief pause as Ricardo stopped orally pleasing Natalie's ass, causing her to let out a plantive wimper. "Oh don't worry mami I'm about to be balls deep in that ass, or try to anyway." Ricardo said as he pressed the tip of his cock passed Natalie's spincter muscle, causing Natalie to wince a little. But she soon adjusted to the discomfort and started pushing back on Ricardo's cock, until it was halfway inside her.

"Fuck my ass like you did my pussy." Natalie growled, feeling months of sexual frustration come to an end as Ricardo's cock continued to make a new home inside of her ass. 

By now Ricardo was in a state of disbelief as Natalie took it upon herself to not only impale herself on his cock, but urging him to fuck it like he did her pussy. So not to spoil the moment Ricardo came out of his trance and began to work his cock in and out of Natalie's ass. Pulling it almost all the way out then pushing it further inside each time, eliciting pleas from Natalie to go deeper and faster each time. 

Ricardo's cock began to slide in and out of Natalie's ass with ease causing him to take things further, as he reached down and grabbed a fist full of Natalie's crimson colored mane and began to fuck her ass in earnest, while his balls slapped against her pussy with each thrust.

Natalie arched her back and met Ricardo's thrust each time while using her anal muscles to grip his cock. Hoping to make him cum quicker, as her own orgasm was vastly approaching. It did the trick because it was not much longer until Ricardo pulled his cock from her ass and coated her back with his seed. The sheer savagery of Ricardo's action caused Natalie to bury her fingers inside her pussy and give herself the primal release that has been caged up for quite some time. 

"Guess we made a bit of a mess." Natalie giggled as her climaxed subsided. She then went to the bathroom to clean herself up, as she was still in a state of euphoria.

"Yeah I guess so." Ricardo replied.

"Your turn." Natalie said as she came out of the bathroom and traced her finger along Ricardos well defined abs. "Too bad we can't go another round." Natalie said to herself as thoughts of Chris were a distant memory at the moment. But those distant thoughts did not linger much longer in the background as the gravity of what happened started set in. Natalie thought it would be best to talk to Ricardo, and let him know this was just a one time thing.

"Yeah my lips are sealed mami." Ricardo said as he came out of the bathroom and got dressed. "No need in fucking up what you got with your man just because you wanted to get your rocks off. Plus I don't want Brook finding out about this." Ricardo lied, since it was all her idea in the first place.

"Well I'm glad we agree on this. Natalie said as her nerves started to calm down at the thought that no one would find out about what happened. Or so she thought.

Two hours earlier...

"You sure about that. You know the way that sales have been it could be another seven months before you get a chance like this." A voice said to Chris.

"I realize that sir, and I am very thankful for the chance to work over, but just some things are worth more than money." Chris said as he went on to explain to his boss why he would not be working any extra for the next two days.

"Well I can understand where you are coming from Chris. But just know that if you change your mind you are welcome to stay today or tomorrow." 

"Thank you sir I will be sure to let you know if I change my mind." Chris said as he shook his boss's hand, then left out to call Natalie.

"Hmm that is odd." Chris said as the phone went to voicemail. "I thought she was off today. Maybe her and Brook are out and about. No Brook is out of town." He remembered. "Oh well I'll just leave her a voicemail telling her I won't be working extra today or tomorrow."

Back to the present...

"That was a close one." Natalie said, closing the door behind her as Ricardo left. "Chris should be calling soon." She said to herself, as she made her way to her room to pick up her phone. "Huh why did Chris call two hours ago? He never calls unless he is on break, and he takes his break the same time every day. Only other time he calls is right before he starts working his second shift." Natalie said to herself, as the fear and panic she surpressed earlier was starting to rear its ugly head. "Well let me see what the voicemail was about at least."

Before she could check her voicemail Natalie was getting a call from Ricardo, letting her know that Chris will be there any second.

"Yeah it's done." Ricardo said as he made his way down the stairs bumping into Chris by accident. "Oh my bad man." Ricardo said not realizing it was Chris he bumped into. He tried to act casual when he realized that it was Chris. "Yeah lemme call you back in just a second." He told the person on the other end, as he quickly hung up and dialed Natalie's number. Hoping she picked up before Chris reached her door.

Chris not wanting to be bothered with small talk, was thankful that Ricardo was on the phone. Even though they never hung out, Chris had seen Ricardo and Brook in passing on more than one occasion to know who he was. "I wonder what that was all about?" Chris said, shrugging off the weird encounter with Ricardo, and shifted back to imagining the surprised look on Natalie's face when he tells her what he has been planning.

"Oh did you forget something?" Natalie said opening the door, instead of answering the phone, thinking it was Ricardo. But much to her horror it was Chris instead. Unable to hide her shock Natalie stood there and dropped her phone, as she came to realize it was Chris standing in front of her.

"What are you...?" Chris said breaking off mid sentence as he surveyed Natalie's disheveled hair and deer in the headlight look. It took only a moment for Chris to recall that Brook was out of town, and the odd way Ricardo had acted when they bumped into each other. That is when he came to the conclusion something went on between the two of them. "What the fuck is going on here Natalie?" Chris demanded. "Wait, on second thought don't answer that. I bet I can get Ricardo to tell me." Chris snarled, as he ran back down the stairs hoping to catch Ricardo before he got in his car.

To be continued...