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Beccah

By: ejls



This story was written as a contest entry for another venue. All the participants used the same beginning paragraph. I hope you enjoy Beccah's story.

*

The light fog added a moisture to the air. The coolness of the night wrapped around her like a wet towel, sending a shiver up her spine. She was lucky she knew the area so well, or she could have easily become lost. She looked through the trees at the house where he lived, slightly smiling at the one electric candle burning in the kitchen window.

It was just as he had said seven years earlier, "I'll leave a light on while you're gone, so you can find your way back home. When you find yourself, come back to me." 

It had taken a lot for him to say those words, after a long night of arguing, pleading, tears, screaming, and love-making. "You can't mean this! What do you mean you're not happy? We're supposed to be getting married!"

"What do you want from me? Do you want me to look you in the eyes and lie to you? Do you want me to tell you everything will be all right?" She cupped his sweet face in her hands and pleaded with him, "I can't do this. Do you understand? I'm dying here. I don't recognize the woman in the mirror anymore. I need to go and look for whatever it is I'm missing. I need to see the world for myself."

She stared into his bright blue eyes, now shining with unshed tears. "God, Richie, I love you, but if I stay here I'll end up hating you, hating us, and hating our life together." She gently kissed him and said, "I love you too much to let that happen. You need to let me go, baby. Please...."

Richie held her tightly, as she continued to kiss him, desperately returning her kisses, thinking his love could change her mind. He trailed kisses down her throat, along her collar bone and then up the side of her neck to her ear. He felt her hands tighten as she dropped them to his shoulders. He knew exactly where to kiss her and where to touch her. He should after all these years.

She trembled at his touch and felt her body responding to his. Damn him, for knowing her so well. Her nipples hardened and strained against the thin tank top she was wearing. The tingling between her legs was maddening and she pushed herself into him, feeling him grow hard against her body. Richie's desperation was contagious as she pulled at his shirt, trying to get it off of him.

It was hot and it was urgent. The lovers stripped each other of their nightclothes and fell onto the bed. Richie could never get enough of her. She was like a drug to him. He pushed her flat on her back and took control. He caught a whiff of her excitement, mixed with the scent of baby powder and field flowers. She had a golden tan and there were white triangles surrounding her areolas, evidence of the black bikini that was her weekend uniform.

He devoured her breasts, switching from one to the other. He kissed, nipped and suckled, hungrily. Her hands were holding his blond head tightly, not wanting him to move, but he did. He moved downwards.

Richie moved down her taut belly, heading for her baby-soft, hairless valley. He moved her legs apart and opened her flower. She was pink and wet with arousal, and her hard pearl called to him. When his mouth captured the throbbing nub, her back arched and a low moan escaped her. He sucked on her clit and then ran his tongue all around. He loved her taste and his cock became even harder, in anticipation of entering her hot hole. He wasn't going to wait.

He growled her name as he rose up and spread her legs wider. Without warning, he plunged into her, "Beccah...."

He thrust into her as if trying to drive straight through her body. There was no evidence of tenderness. It was if he thought he could own her, and his power would convince her to stay. His heart needed her to belong to him, but in his mind he knew. He had seen it coming, he had seen the look in her eyes, but never wanted to admit it. That thought drove him to push harder.

She met his thrusts with her own. Her legs were tightly wrapped around him as he pounded her. Her fingernails dug into his back as her pleasure mounted. He held on to her shoulders and pushed in again and again, his balls tightening almost painfully, before releasing his hot seed. Beccah's nails cut into his skin, her cries mixing with his, just as her juices did. They lay, panting in each other's arms, each afraid to let go because they knew this was the last time. He whispered and promised he would be there, waiting for her.

When Richie woke the next morning, Beccah was already gone. She had left him a note telling him she loved him, and promised to let him know how to reach her, when she got to where she was going. That never happened. Oh, he had heard she had gone back to college, but she never contacted him. Still, he left the light on, waiting for her to come home.

Beccah thought back to the morning she left. She sobbed all the way to the interstate. She wanted to turn around and go back to the security of their home and the safety of their life, but she just kept driving. It was a long while before she felt free. And it wasn't that she didn't want to contact him. She was afraid to hear his voice, and that he would beg her to come back home. After a while, it was just easier not to think about her past. 

Now, standing out here in the dark, a part of her felt like she was still in that little house, on the outskirts of town. It was all she could do not to walk through his door, and tell him she was home. No, she was cold and wet, and she really wanted to look her best when she saw him. Her sweet man -- he waited for her, and she was finally home.

Beccah chose a pale pink sundress to wear to church. Her dark brown hair hung in soft waves, halfway down her back. She applied a little mascara to the already indecently long eyelashes that framed her brown eyes, and then slipped on a pair of white heels. She looked in the full-length mirror in the hotel room, and was pleased with the image before her. Gone was the girl who fled this small town so many years ago. In her place stood a confident woman who was back to claim her man.

It had been dumb luck that caused her to find the ad for the Director of Social Work position at the local hospital, here. When she left Richie, she had a two year degree, began accelerated courses at the University of Michigan, achieved her Bachelor's, and then her Master's degree. The internship at University Hospital, and her volunteer work at two city clinics, earned her the reputation of being a hard worker, and a fighter for patients' rights. Whether it was fighting for a patient's right to their own information, their choice of treatment, or their right to choose how they wanted to end their days, she fought for them. She didn't buck the system, but worked with it, or worked to change it. She was tireless in striving for changes that benefited both patients and facilities. She had the respect of medical professionals, clergy and patients. She was a rare breed.

When Fulton County Hospital advertised for the directorship, Beccah couldn't believe her luck. She would be able to go home and show Richie how successful she had become; they could be married and have the life they had always wanted. The interview process had taken a couple of months, but finally she got the offer. As hard as it was to leave her clients and their families, it was time to get her life back.

She knew she was arriving at the church a little late. She slipped into the back pew and looked at the faces from her past. Everyone was older, but they were the same, sitting in their same places in church. The pastor was new, but that was about all that had changed. She strained to see if Richie was sitting in the same pew, and he was. She felt her heart leap in her chest. He was still blond, still gorgeous, but gone was the boy she loved; in his place was a man. 

She tried to concentrate on the words being spoken and on the hymns being sung, but all she could do was imagine the reunion she would have with Richie. When the service was over, she quickly left the building and waited for him to come out.

Beccah stood under the sugar maple tree with its new spring green leaves, trying to be inconspicuous. A few of the members noticed her, but never approached her. They seemed to gather on the other side of the sidewalk, waiting and watching.

When Richie came out of the church, Beccah began to walk towards him, and then stopped in her tracks. Clinging to his arm was Jenny Griffith. She was looking at him with complete adoration, and he kept her close, as if to protect her. With their blond hair and blue eyes, they made a cute couple. Oh my God, thought Beccah; they were a couple.

She had just decided to turn and leave when she heard him call to her.

"Beccah? Beccah Russell?" Richie ran over to her, and threw his arms around her in a big, friendly hug. "How are you? When did you get back? Geez, look at you!"

Richie spun her around and then pulled her back into his arms. "You look wonderful, Beccah," he said, breathlessly.

Beccah pulled back a little, but stayed in his arms. "Oh Richie, I'm home. I've come back to..."

"You're back for a visit? Wow, that's great," Richie said excitedly, letting her go and turning to Jenny. "Hey Jen, come here. Look who came back?" 

Jenny looked uncomfortable as she approached the pair. Richie's arm immediately went around Jenny's shoulders, and pulled her close. "Beccah, I'm sure you remember Jenny. She was a couple years behind us in school."

It took Beccah a minute to find her voice, "Hello Jenny, it's been a long time."

All Jenny did was nod, because Richie kept talking. "Damn, Beccah you look great, doesn't she Jen? How long are you here for? Where've you been? Christ, I never heard from you after you left. Aw, what the hell. Water under the bridge, you know?"

Beccah wanted to scream at him to shut up. She wanted to escape this scene and find a place to hide, but no, he kept talking.

"You're going to have to come out to the house for dinner some night, right Jen? Jenny makes the best brisket in the county. She spoils the hell out of me, and I love her for it." 

Richie leaned down and kissed Jenny's cheek, and then looked Beccah dead in the eye. His voice dropped and it had an edge to it, "Did you know we were married? We are, and we're happy. I've got a woman who loves me and who I love more than life; someone who will never hurt me."

His eyes were no longer friendly. "Well, maybe dinner would be a bad idea. I don't expect to see much of you. Come on, Jenny. Try to have a nice life, Beccah."

The couple turned and walked away. The eyes of the gathered crowd were on Beccah. She choked back her tears, put her chin up, turned and slowly walked away. She wanted to run, in the worst way, but she held on to what little dignity she had left. No one heard what he said, except Jenny, but Beccah knew it was only a matter of time before the entire town would be talking about the encounter.

It was noon, but Beccah didn't feel like eating. She knew the church crowd would be out and decided to wait until a little later to get something to eat. Back in her hotel, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She threw her purse at her reflection and fell on the bed, crying. This wasn't how it was supposed to turn out. Richie was supposed to welcome her back. He had kept the light burning for her. Exhausted by her tears, she fell into a deep sleep.

It was around two o'clock when Beccah finally woke. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten since the night before. She took off her crumpled dress and tossed it in the corner. She pulled on a pair of jeans and a white tank top and grabbed her khaki jacket. She walked down the main boulevard to the USA Diner. 

You didn't wait to be seated here; you grabbed a menu off the rack and found yourself a table or booth. Beccah walked to the back of the room, found a spot in the last booth, and sat down with her back to the door. She smiled at the menu. It was exactly the same as it was when she was a little girl. She was looking over the Sunday specials, when she heard a deep voice that brought goose bumps to her skin.

"Bex...so the rumors are true. You're back."

Beccah knew who it was without turning around. He was the only one who had ever called her Bex, and he did it because it annoyed the hell out of her. Beccah turned her head and looked into the hazel eyes of Drew Morrison. 

Richie's brother had been four years ahead of them in school. Whenever Richie and Beccah were together, which was just about always, from the time they were ten years old, he found a reason to bother and tease them. Beccah's eyes widened as she took in the sight of the man looking down on her. He was easily over six feet tall, with coppery brown hair that was maybe a little too long. His face had nicely chiseled features and his muscled arms were tan. He had grown into a very handsome man with a body that was all shoulders and chest, no waist, no hips, no ass.

"Don't call me Bex. My name is Beccah and I would appreciate it if you'd call me that," she said with as much sophistication as she could muster.

Drew dropped into the booth, opposite her, and hit her with a lazy smile.

"Don't get all high and mighty with me, Bex. I may be the only one in town that'll talk to you after what you did. Nice scene in front of the church, by the way."

"What I did? Why, because I left and went back to school? Because I wanted more than to be married at the age of twenty? Fine, crucify me. If I'm such a low-life, why don't you get the hell away from me? We wouldn't want the town talking, now would we? Jesus, Drew, I was engaged at eighteen! I wasn't ready!" Beccah's voice started to sound shrill.

"Calm down, Bex, it's me. I don't blame you for going out and trying for more. I blame you for devastating my brother. Christ, you left him a real mess, for a few years. Thank God for Jenny; she made him believe in love again. She dotes on every word he says. You can be damn sure their baby is going to be spoiled all to hell."

Beccah gulped, "She's pregnant? Oh God, she's got my life. She has him, our home, and now she's going to have their baby." She turned her head in an effort to hide her tears.

Drew reached over and put his big hand over her slender one. He wasn't being mean, he was being factual. "She has nothing that belongs to you; she has what's rightfully hers. She worked damn hard to bring him back and get him to care about someone else. You walked away Bex - hell, you ran away. And you were right to do that."

When he felt a tear drop onto his hand, he raised it to wipe her cheek dry. "Come on, don't do this. You're going to see that everything worked out the way it should."

Beccah raised her head and pushed her chin out in a determined fashion, inhaled sharply and asked, "So, are the chili-cheese fries still the best in the county?"

Their conversation started cautiously, as they ate their burgers and fries. Drew and Beccah had never been real friends. He was simply her boyfriend's annoying older brother, and she had been the cute kid that grew into a beautiful woman, not that he would tell her that. Drew had gone to an agricultural college and owned a landscaping business. That explained his rugged, outdoorsy look.

The conversation moved to their families. Drew asked about her parents, who had retired to Clearwater, Florida, and Beccah asked him about his father. Donald Morrison still lived in his home, a widower for the past fifteen years. He was still young, and was known to be quite a ladies' man at the Senior Center. Beccah smiled at the look of pride that swept over Drew's face as he spoke of his father.

He listened and seemed truly interested in her life away from Richie. When she spoke of her work with patients' rights and end-of-life education, he asked questions pertinent to his own life, someday anticipating his father's passing.

"Why did you choose to come to County Hospital, Bex? You probably could have gone anywhere. What did you expect to find? You didn't really think Richie would wait seven years, did you? Or did you come here to get him back, one way or another?"

"You make me sound horrid, like I had this master plan. Drew, he told me he would wait, and I came back to see if he did. I wanted him to be proud of what I made of my life. I still love him. There's never been anyone but Richie. I wanted to come back to him, a strong, successful woman."

Drew frowned as she spoke. "Okay, but he's married now, and he's going to be a father. Tell me you understand what that means and that you're going to leave him and Jen alone."

Beccah's eyes widened in disbelief and her voice cracked, "You can't possibly believe that I would do anything to hurt him, do you? Jesus, what the hell do you think I am? I am not evil, Drew. I would never do that."

Beccah was visibly upset, and Drew knew he had crossed the line with his interrogation. He reached for her hand once more and apologized.

"I'm sorry if I upset you, but you have no idea what a mess you left him in. I guess I'm being a little over-protective, but I spent a lot of nights trying to sober him up, or keep him out of fights at the bar. Bex, I never thought of you as evil. I'm sorry."

Beccah looked into his eyes, and saw honesty and kindness there. She could tell he was proud of all she had been able to accomplish in very few years. A smile started, and Beccah finally began to feel like things may work out.

Beccah began her position at the hospital without any problems. She was replacing a very "old-school" director, who never accepted the changes society was demanding. Many of the staff was around her own age; some were older. All seemed to be interested in this home-town girl, who returned after being out in the big world. 

She started looking for permanent housing, and decided that an apartment might best suit her needs. Beccah also found herself eating at the diner each evening, until she found a place of her own. Often she would run into Drew and they would sit together and discuss their days. 

Beccah had settled into the last booth one Friday night, half looking forward to seeing Drew. When he came into the diner, he wasn't alone. By his side was a pretty young blonde, with bouncing curls and voluptuous curves that screamed "Pageant Queen". When Drew caught Beccah looking his way, he almost seemed embarrassed. He gave her a quick nod, and steered his date to the other side of the diner. Beccah felt something, but couldn't put her finger on it. After all, why should what Drew did with his private life have any effect on her?

Beccah was walking down Main Street the next morning, when Drew's pick-up truck pulled up next to her. He leaned over towards the passenger window and called to her.

"Hey Bex, where ya goin'?" shooting her a toothy grin.

"I'm just taking a walk. Are you up early or just going home from your date?"

Drew frowned at the brunette, but before he could reply she said, "I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. I had no business saying that, or inquiring about your personal life, at all."

"Hell Bex, I'm an open book. Cyndie is one of the teachers at the elementary school. We were sort of set up by Richie and Jen. Ever since he found wedded bliss, he thinks I need to find me a woman. I've never had a problem finding a woman, but he thinks I need to settle down and start a family. Christ, sometimes he acts like my father, not my brother," Drew said, running his hand through his hair. "So come on, get in."

Now it was Beccah's turn to frown. "Get in? And go where?"

"Just get in, squirt. I'll take you some place special."

Drew opened the passenger door from inside the truck. Beccah tossed her purse onto the seat, and climbed up into the cab. Drew smiled appreciatively, as she crossed her long legs. Her khaki shorts rode well up her thighs, causing his mouth to go a little dry. Damn, he thought, her legs should be illegal.


Beccah



Driving through the main intersection, Drew headed out of town, towards the woodland area. It was an early summer day, not too hot, with just the hint of a breeze. They talked and laughed during the drive, and before Beccah realized it, Drew was pulling off the road, parking in a grassy clearing.

Beccah was a little confused, as he exited the truck. "Come on, Bex. And shove your purse under the seat; you won't need it."

Drew was pulling a case out of the back of the truck and slipping the strap onto his shoulder. He looked at her wedge-heeled sandals and wondered if he had made a mistake. Oh well, he thought, she's a tough one. She'll keep up.

"Drew...," she began, but he silenced her.

"Bex, you're going to have to keep your mouth shut, or you could scare them off. Now be a good girl, and grab that other bag and follow me."

More than anything, she wanted to defy his orders and storm away, but given their location, she thought she had better make the best of things. She followed him into the woods. Luckily, the ground was fairly clear and walking was not as hard as she thought it would be. They must have walked for a good twenty minutes, until Drew stopped at the edge of a cliff. He set his bag down on a boulder and opened it. Inside, there was a beautiful camera and several lenses.

"You take pictures?" Beccah asked, keeping her voice down.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "I started when I was studying horticulture. I found the best way for me to study was to have a lot of photos. The cheapest way for me to do that was to take the pictures myself and keep my own "books". I must have hundreds of discs with plant photos. I found that I liked taking pictures of all sorts of things, so I took some photography classes in college. In addition to helping me with my landscaping business, I come out here and I'm able to relax. Open that other bag, will you?"

Beccah opened the small bag she was carrying and found it filled with film, notebooks, pens and two smaller cameras. He loaded his large camera and then one of the small ones, took out his notebook, and handed the little camera to Beccah.

"Here, in case you see something you might like to remember. The rule out here is: leave nothing behind but your foot steps, take nothing away but pictures and memories."

"That's nice, but why this spot? I mean it's pretty, but wouldn't down there near the stream be better?" she asked.

"Trust me, just sit here and watch. And remember, keep your voice down."

Drew showed Beccah how to operate the small 35MM camera, using the auto rather than manual options. He had her take a couple of shots, explained the range of the camera, and some other basics. While she sat on one of the boulders, looking down at the stream, she heard the click of Drew's camera. She turned her head to see him snapping pictures of her. 

"Hey!"

"Shhhh, I'm just taking some test shots. Now keep watching."

As soon as the words came out of his mouth, a black bear came ambling out of the woods below, heading to the stream. Following her were two small bear cubs. Beccah's mouth opened, but she said nothing. Cameras were aimed and the two started taking pictures. Drew lowered his camera after a couple of minutes, and touched Beccah's arm. He pointed further down stream, at a small group of deer that had come to drink the fresh water.

Drew and Beccah stayed silent, except for the sounds of their cameras, for the better part of an hour. When the families of animals wandered away, he lay his camera down, sat on the ground, and leaned back against the boulder. Beccah knelt down next to him, barely able to contain her excitement.

"Never," she started. "Never have I seen anything so beautiful. The animals, the babies, the scenery, the birds; everything was just perfect. Thank you, Drew."

Drew looked at her flushed face and her long, dark hair being tossed in the breeze. This sight, against the turquoise blue sky, was more beautiful than he could imagine. He reached for his camera and before she could object, froze that moment in time.

"Now what the hell did you do that for?" Beccah demanded.

"Don't worry Bex, you'll get a copy. I don't imagine you have any idea how beautiful you are, do you?"

Beccah's eyes widened with surprise. That was probably the most unexpected thing he could have said. Her mind went blank and she couldn't think of a reply.

Drew stood up and smiled down on her. "Hell, if I had known telling you that you were beautiful would shut you up, I would have done that years ago."

He held out his hand to help her stand. As they walked back to the truck, their conversation reverted back to a polite exchange. It was as if that one statement changed everything. Drew turned up the volume on the radio and the pair found themselves singing at the top of their lungs, all the way back to town. It was almost three o'clock, and Drew pulled into the diner parking lot, without asking Beccah if she was hungry.

They were laughing as they burst through the door, and almost literally bumped into Richie and Jen. Beccah's attitude immediately sobered, as Richie glared at her. Drew was still chuckling, despite the look that was being fired at him.

"Hey, proud parents-to-be, fancy meeting you here," he said in a loud, happy voice.

Jen looked embarrassed, but Richie looked down-right angry. He grabbed Drew's arm and turned away from the girls. Beccah didn't want to listen to the exchange, so she turned to Jen and tried to guide her away from the men.

"How are you feeling, Jen? You look as if this will be a late summer baby," Beccah said, truly caring about sheltering this sweet girl from the voices that were getting louder, behind them. "Do you want to step out into the fresh air?"

Jen nodded and the two left the diner. Drew watched them leave and then let his anger show.

"You have no right to tell me who I can or cannot see. It's none of your damned business, Richie. Why the hell should it concern you? Unless you're feeling a little jealous, and if that's the case, you better rethink."

"Christ, do you remember what she did? How can you stand to be anywhere near her?"

"Seven years, Richie. It happened seven years ago. I thought you moved on with your life. She's no threat to you and if I want to spend time with her, I will. Now be a good boy, and tend to your wife."

Richie began to sputter, but also noticed Jen left the diner. He rushed out the door to find Jen and Beccah sitting on a bench, calmly chatting. He grabbed Jen's hand and announced they were leaving, not acknowledging Beccah's presence. She stood on the side walk and his car peeled out of the parking lot and took off down the road. She hadn't even realized tears had started their slow trail down her cheeks, until she felt Drew's arm come around her shoulders.

"Come on, Bex. It's been such a good day; don't let a surprise run-in ruin it for you." He pulled her into his arms, and kissed the top of her head. He felt her trembling as she fought to stay in control. He had an almost overwhelming urge to kiss her worries away, but thankfully Beccah stepped out of the embrace, threw her shoulders back and announced she was hungry. The uncomfortable moment was behind them.

Beccah couldn't remember ever having such a wonderful summer. She and Drew made several more trips into the woods, watching the young bear family grow. He helped her with his knowledge of photography, loaning her some of his old college text books. He also helped her move into her new apartment, using his truck and his brute strength to help her haul her flea market finds. When she was settled enough to cook a meal, she invited him over to help christen her new home. 

Drew arrived with a huge container garden for Beccah's balcony. She laughed as she opened the door and was greeted by terra cotta and flowers. He stumbled through her living room and out the French doors to the balcony, setting the large container on the wide ledge. He turned to see Beccah trying desperately to stifle her giggles. One purple petunia had become dislodged and was perfectly affixed in Drew's hair. She plucked it off, smoothed his tousled hair and directed him to the bathroom to wash up.

When he entered the kitchen, Beccah was bent over the oven, basting a roast. Her backside looked so inviting in the short black skirt she was wearing. Drew just stood in the doorway smiling at the view, until Beccah spun around, catching him in the act. She blushed furiously when she realized where he had been looking, and quickly turned away again, hiding her smile and feeling good that he wanted to look at her.

Her pork roast was luscious, and her lemon meringue pie and coffee were the perfect ending to a great meal. They took their coffee and settled on the sofa, watching the sun begin its slow descent, through her opened French doors. The only light in the room came from its amber rays, giving the impression of dozens of lit candles.

As Beccah chatted about work, Drew found himself concentrating on her, instead of what she was saying. Spending time with her these past few weeks, opened his eyes to the caring and compassionate woman he had come to know. Sure, sometimes she was that teenager that got on his nerves, but more and more she was becoming someone he enjoyed having in his life. When she leaned forward to set her cup on the coffee table, Drew got glimpse of the black bra underneath her purple blouse. His pulse sped up a little as he realized that this wasn't just Bex; this was a desirable, sensuous woman.

They sat for a long time, talking about anything and everything. When Drew stifled a yawn, Beccah realized how late it had gotten. 

"Come on, big guy, time for you to go home," Beccah said as she stood. She held out her hands to pull him up. "You're way too comfortable here."

Pulling back with all her might, she hoisted him up, almost falling into the table. Drew grabbed her, and brought her into his arms. It was one of those awkward moments when you look into someone's eyes wanting, more than anything, for them to kiss you. Beccah tilted her head up, and closed her eyes as Drew's mouth came down on hers.

What do they say; fireworks, earth-moving, bells ringing? It was all of those things and more. Beccah slowly moved her hands up his chest and around his neck. Drew's arms went around her, bringing her as close as possible. The kiss was tender but passionate, and lasted longer than Beccah thought possible. When it ended, Drew kept her in his arms, breathing in the lavender scent of her hair.

"What was that?" he asked quietly, almost afraid of the answer.

Beccah smiled as she leaned against him, "I think they call that a kiss, Drew."

"Bex? If I don't leave right now, I'm afraid I'm going to do something to screw this up," Drew said stepping back. "That was incredible, but if you don't mind, I want to take this slow; real slow. Is it okay if I call you, maybe tomorrow night?"

He looked like a boy asking permission to borrow the car. Beccah smiled, and tried to put him at ease, "Call me when you're ready. I'm not going anywhere."

She walked him to the door, turned and planted a tender kiss on his lips. "Good night, sweet man," she said, as he walked into the night.

Beccah never heard from Drew on Sunday, but she wasn't concerned. He said he wanted to take things slow. God, he made her heart race. As she sat at her desk Monday morning, the thought of their kiss still brought a smile to her face.

There was a light knock at her door, and Roseanne Zimmer stuck her head in. "Got a minute?" she asked with a frown.

"Of course, Roseanne, come on in. What's up?"

"I've got a case I'd like to review with you. I've made my recommendation, but I'd like your feedback, and your support if needed," Roseanne said as she sat down opposite Beccah. "Sixty-five year old male patient admitted last night complaining of severe headache, most of Sunday afternoon. E.D. was working a three-car accident, so he was made comfortable, because he really wasn't complaining or showing any more symptoms. He started saying he was feeling a little weak, and that his vision was a little off. While waiting for a scan, he had a hemorrhagic stroke. The patient is not conscious and as far as the doctor can tell, he is fully paralyzed."

"Does the patient have a signed Health Care Proxy, and is the health care agent available to make decisions?"

Roseanne frowned again, "Yes, but here's the problem. The doctor's prognosis is death within a few days, without surgery. With treatment, the patient will probably recover consciousness, and maybe some brain function, but not all. The patient's written wishes state no heroic measures. The agent is ready to support those wishes."

"So what's the problem, Roseanne?"

"The patient has two sons; the eldest was named his agent. The youngest son wants every medical treatment available, to sustain life. The agent is trying to balance the patient's wishes with the emotions of his brother. By law, we have to proceed, but I've suggested a family meeting to discuss this with our medical team. I'd like you to sit with us and help strategize our approach. Dr. Costanza is ready to discuss the psychological and sociological issues, as well as expected outcomes."

"Fine, no problem, but you sound like you've got everything under control. Why bring me in?" asked Beccah.

"Beccah, we all know that you worked tirelessly for the rights of the dying at your last hospital. You've had conversations like this, dealing with family members who are on opposite sides. We rarely get anything like this. I'd just be more comfortable if you'd take the lead and let me assist. Please?" Roseanne asked.

Beccah placed her hand on Roseanne's. "These are difficult discussions. I'll be glad to work with you on this, taking the lead. I'd like to review the charts and the proxy. Do you know if there's a Living Will?"

Roseanne looked relieved and nodded, "Yes, there is. Dr. Costanza has everything and can meet in twenty minutes, if you can. The family is here and we can meet with them immediately following. Can you free your afternoon?"

Beccah said she could and a short while later was seated in the doctor's conference room, with Roseanne, Dr. Costanza and two nurses. Beccah's face went white when she read the name on the chart -- Donald Morrison, Drew and Richie's father.

Drew had been named the health care agent, selected to speak for his father in the event he could no longer speak for himself. Donald had been very clear in his wishes when he requested no heroic measures, comfort care only, being allowed to die a natural death. If he could not be assured of full recovery, he wanted to be allowed to die.

From the discussion with the nurses, Richie was arguing for treatment because he wanted his father to be part of his baby's life. Although Drew believed his father really wouldn't want to end up tied to machines, unable to do for himself, he was torn with not wanting his brother to be upset. There were legal issues, but more importantly, there was the family to hold together.

The team worked to put together a presentation that was both factual and logical. Beccah knew that they had to find out from Richie exactly what his expectations were for his father. She also sincerely doubted that he would want to listen to anything she had to say, but this was her job and no matter what, she was going to work hard for Donald Morrison.

Roseanne held the door for Drew, Richie and Jen, as they entered the room. Dr. Costanza stood at the head of the table, with Beccah seated at his right. Richie stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her. It was Jen who took his arm and got him to sit down. Drew sat a few seats away from him, avoiding everyone's eyes.

Dr. Costanza very calmly explained Don's condition. He showed the x-rays of the aneurism, scans of brain activity and spelled out the best case scenario, if they had caught it in time. Although he stayed quiet throughout the explanation, Richie's temples were throbbing and you could see he was getting angry.

"I don't care what your fucking x-rays and charts show. This is my father and he has every right to live. How dare you not give him every chance at life? Are you murderers? Is this how you get your thrills, playing God?"

Jen laid her hand on Richie's arm, trying to get him to calm. Her eyes filled with tears, at her husband's pain. "Please," she whispered to him.

"Richie," Beccah began. "May I ask what you want from this? How do you see your father after the hospital? 

"What the hell do you think? I want him to play with our kids. I want him to read stories and play catch. I want him to tell our kids what it was like when we were young. Jesus Beccah, are you stupid? Oh yeah, that's right, you have no idea what real love is," Richie said sharply.

"That's enough, Richie," Drew exploded.

The following silence in the room was broken by Dr. Costanza. "I need you to realize that your father may never do any of those things. With a hemorrhagic stroke, with the best course of treatment, your father may regain consciousness, but he may never be able to hold your children, interact, touch or even see them. Do you realize in that state, he may feel more pain, anguish and frustration because of not being able to actively participate in life? Have you thought of how much mental pain he may endure, not being able to really live the way he wants?"

"Richie," Drew spoke calmly. "You read what dad wanted. It was written in his own handwriting. The last thing he would ever want is to be a vegetable, or to be able to think, but be paralyzed. Is that what you want? Do you want to visit him in a home, on Sundays? To take your kids to a place like that and visit a body, someone they'll never really know? Richie, they'll know the best part of dad through your stories about him, when he was strong and vibrant."

The room went quiet again. Roseanne glanced at Beccah and Dr. Costanza. They kept still and waited.

"Fine," Richie's voice cracked. "Do you what you want."

"Richie, it's not about what you want, or what Drew wants. It's about what your father wants. These are his wishes, his decisions, about his life. Are you okay with that?" Beccah asked.

Richie stood and headed for the door. He turned back to them and said, "I'm going to have to be, aren't I?" He left the room, slamming the door behind him.

"Doctor, please make sure my dad's not in any pain, okay?" Drew asked. "I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I thought anything we did brought him any discomfort." 

Dr. Costanza stood and held his hand out to Drew, "You have my word."

Jen and Drew followed Dr. Costanza out of the room. Roseanne looked at Beccah with tears in her eyes and said, "I never want my family to go through that. I wouldn't wish that on anyone. I hope they'll be able to find their way back to each other." Beccah wondered the same thing.

And so the vigil started. There wasn't any time when she walked by Don's room, that she didn't see Drew there. He hadn't sought her out; he never looked her way. She just knew she had to be there, if he needed her.

On Friday afternoon, Roseanne came to her again. "Beccah, I though you might want to know, Don Morrison just passed."

Beccah said a silent prayer and went to see if she could help. As she looked through the door, she saw Jen and Drew in a tearful embrace. Drew was holding his father's hand. Beccah didn't see Richie anywhere, and that worried her. She started down the hallway, stopping each nurse and asking if they had seen which way he had gone. One finally said she thought she had seen him go into the chapel.

The lights were dim in the small room, set aside for families. Richie was seated off to the side, staring into space. Beccah sat down next to him and put her arm around his shoulders. He immediately turned to her, pulling her close, and holding onto her for dear life. She could feel how tense he was, and stroked his head and back. He clung to her, trembling with emotion. Beccah stayed in his arms, trying to will him her strength.




Beccah



When Richie raised his head, his cheeks had telltale signs where his tears had traveled. He looked into her eyes, and then brought his mouth to hers, seeking comfort in her kiss.

This is wrong, Beccah thought. No, I don't want to do this, she thought as she tried to pull away. At that moment, she heard the chapel door slam. Beccah stood up abruptly, muttering she was sorry, and raced out of the room. She saw Drew's back as he rounded the corner at the end of the hall. Beccah ran after him.

Drew was already in his truck and backing out of the parking spot, as Beccah came out of the hospital. There was no way he was going to stop, so Beccah was just going to have to go after him. She ran back to her office, grabbed her keys, and told her assistant she wouldn't be back for the rest of the day.

She knew exactly where he was headed. They had made that trip almost every weekend. Beccah was driving a pretty good clip, and couldn't imagine how fast Drew must be going. What must he have thought, seeing Beccah with Richie? It was nothing; nothing that Beccah wanted. Her heart ached at the thought of losing Drew. Losing him? God, how she wanted him, but more than that, how she needed him.

His truck was parked in the clearing, where he always left it. Beccah pulled right behind him, blocking any chance of him leaving. She pulled off her heels and raced through the woods in her bare feet, heading towards the cliff. He was there, sitting on the boulder overlooking the stream. She walked up behind him and placed her hand on his shoulder.

Drew jerked away, as if her touch had burned him. "Don't touch me, you whore!"

"What? What the hell are you talking about?"

Drew got off the boulder and stood facing her. There was an anger in his eyes that Beccah never thought she would see. "Don't play fucking innocent with me, Bex. I saw you kissing him. For Christ's sake, he's fucking married! What the hell? Did you think you could get him back because his father died, and he was having a weak moment? Is that when you tracked him down and made your move?"

The woods echoed with the sound her hand made as she slapped his face. "You horse's ass, Drew! How dare you? How dare you think that about me? Maybe if you had stuck around a little longer you would have seen that I wasn't kissing him! He was kissing me!"

Beccah started pacing around, her arms flying as she spoke. "I went looking for him to make sure he was okay. Christ, he was my first boyfriend, a major part of my life and I still care about him. But I don't want him, Drew. How could you think that?" 

Drew was rubbing his sore cheek when he asked, "You're going to look me in the eyes and deny you were kissing him?"

"Yes, I am. He was kissing me; I was trying to get away! My God, he's married and going to be a father -- I would never do that. I thought you knew me. I thought you understood me. How stupid was I to think that you would ever really cut me a break?" Beccah's eyes burned deep into Drew's as she continued, dropping her voice to a gentle whisper, "I wanted you to know me. I wanted you to want me, Drew."

Drew was hurting and spoke without thinking, "Why? So you could put another Morrison notch on your belt?"

He never expected the second slap. Beccah's arm was as fast as lightning and he reeled back from the force of her blow. The two stopped, shocked at what had just happened. Beccah turned and started to run. She needed to leave, she needed to escape.

Drew caught her around the waist, turned her around, and pulled her close. Beccah fought to gain release and Drew fought just as hard to keep from being hit, again.

"Stop fighting me, woman!" Drew said, exasperated with the whole situation. "Would you just stop.... Owwww!"

Beccah had accidentally landed a blow to Drew's balls that almost felled him. As he doubled over in pain, Beccah stood by, absolutely mortified at what she had done. She reached out to put her hand on his shoulder and he stood up, glaring at her.

"Going to play like that, Bex?" he asked as he reached out and grabbed her again. This time when he took her into his arms, there was no fighting, not by either one. They stood there, looking at each other in silence, until he started to shake.

Beccah drew him close and let him release the anguish he was feeling over his father's death. He clung to her, needing the support only the woman he loved could give him. 

They stayed like that for a long time. Not speaking, not fighting, not crying, just holding each other. It was Drew who finally pulled away.

"I need to talk to Richie and find out what the hell he was thinking," he said.

"Drew, now's not the time," she tried to convince him.

"The hell it's not. He had no business touching you, not with Jen ready to pop any minute, not with our father lying dead down the hall."

Beccah's eyes and voice pleaded with him, "Please Drew, he didn't mean anything. He was reaching out for comfort. I could have been anybody, it wouldn't have mattered."

"Well it does to me, Bex. I don't want him touching you," Drew explained. "Not now. Not ever."

He bent down and pressed his lips against hers, owning her. She clung to him and at that moment, silently committed herself to him. 

Beccah agreed to drive behind Drew to the hospital, to follow-up on some paperwork. She also knew she had to safeguard Richie against Drew's unwarranted anger. Their kiss in the woods had been so tender. She knew this was the beginning of something very special, and she would protect it with her life.

Drew's arm went around Beccah's waist as they walked into the main entrance of the hospital. Roseanne Zimmer found the two heading to the business office.

"Hey, you're back! Get up to the fourth floor; Richie and Jen have been looking for you."

"Maternity," Beccah said breathlessly, grabbing Drew's hand and pulling him towards the elevators. "Jen must be in labor, let's go!"

They saw Richie standing at the end of the hall, looking into one of the rooms. When he heard their footsteps, he came running towards them, arms outstretched, and grabbing Drew into a big bear hug.

"It's a boy! Shit, Drew, it's a boy," Richie was practically screaming. "Jen was so great. One minute she was fine, having some lemonade down in the cafeteria, the next thing I knew, she was telling me it was time. Holy shit, Drew, it happened so fast! Boom, I'm a dad!"

Two nurses exited the room where Richie had been waiting outside. One of them smiled at him and said, "You're all set, daddy. They're doing just fine."

Drew and Beccah followed Richie into Jen's room. For a woman who had just delivered a baby, she was stunning. There was almost an ethereal look to her as she held her newborn son to her breast. Richie went around to the far side of the bed and gingerly sat on the edge, putting his arm around his new family. Jen looked up at Drew and Beccah and smiled, before she turned to Richie.

"Did you tell him?" she asked, in a whisper.

Richie looked up at Drew, with a huge smile on his face and said, "This is your nephew, Drew. I'd like you to meet Andrew Donald Morrison."

Drew's voice rang with laughter as he began congratulating his brother and sister. There was back-slapping, hugging and kissing. Although offered, he refused the chance to hold the newborn. He needed time, he explained, to get his nerve up. 

Beccah quietly backed out of the room and let the family rejoice in the newest generation. She knew that Andrew Donald was blessed with two very special guardian angels; his Uncle Drew here on earth, and his Grandpa Donald in heaven.

She was waiting for the elevator when she felt Drew's arms go around her waist. "Why did you run off? I turned to talk to you, and you were gone."

"Oh come on Drew, this is family time. Go back and celebrate," Beccah said smiling.

"They deserve some private time. Besides, I have firm up dad's arrangements. I'm not going to bother Richie with the details. I'll just make sure that we have the funeral after Jen and Andrew are out of here."

Drew insisted that Beccah sit with him during the service for Donald Morrison. The church put on a huge dinner in Donald's honor, and the ladies of the Senior Center supplied desserts and coffee. Richie and Drew held up very well, speaking with all who offered their condolences. Richie was lucky that he could beg off, when he felt he should attend to Jen and the baby.

Beccah giggled as she overheard two of the women discussing Don's sexual prowess. She put her finger to her lips to shush Drew as he approached them. His face turned bright red and he listened to the women describe his dad as a "stud". He walked away, shaking his head muttering, "T.M.I."

The last of the well-wishers had gone, Richie and Jen had taken Andy home for some alone time, and Beccah helped Drew gather up the cards and gifts that were left. Drew came up behind Beccah and pulled her close, nuzzling her neck. His breath was hot and his voice was soft.

"Will you come home with me Bex? We haven't had any time to ourselves this week, and I really think we need to talk."

Beccah turned and put her arms around his neck. Her eyes were bright and she gave him a sweet smile. "Of course I will, you know that. Whatever you need, I'm there."

Drew pulled his truck into the circular driveway, right up to the front porch of his ranch-style home. The long porch with its rocking chairs invited his visitors to come, sit down and take a load off. Beccah looked out over the expanse of green lawn and precise plantings. She quickly appreciated his talent for landscaping and his eye for color.

He held the door for her and beckoned her into his home. Beccah had expected a masculine man cave, and was surprised at the casual elegance that greeted her. Drew's home was the perfect mix of comfortable furniture, useful antiques and incredible art. He had a series of botanical photographs hanging over his sofa that Beccah assumed he had taken. Everywhere she looked there was a surprise -- an old wooden army chest used as a coffee table, a small crystal vase holding a hot pink dahlia, a pewter candlestick next to well-read books, and a pair of antique lace gloves draped over the wedding picture of his parents. Beccah felt warm and comfortable here.

He walked to the kitchen, holding her hand. "Can I get you anything? I can make some coffee or I have cold drinks in the fridge."

Beccah stopped and pulled at his hand, making him come close to her. "I'm good," she said. "I don't need anything to eat or drink. But you did say something about talking."

Drew put his hands on her waist and gently kissed her. Beccah reached to hold him close, as their kisses became more passionate. It was several minutes before she broke their kiss.

"Um, you said something about talking, remember?"

"I did say that," Drew replied. "The trouble is I don't remember what I wanted to say. Maybe a change of scenery will jog my memory. Will you come with me?"

"Anywhere," Beccah said raising her head and kissing him once more.

Drew led Beccah down the hall to his bedroom. The late afternoon autumn sun covered the room with a warm, golden blanket. He walked over to his bed and sat down, with Beccah standing in front of him, between his legs. He held her tightly, burying his face in her midriff, while her hands ran through his hair. He leaned back and looked at her, questioning her with his eyes. Her look told him everything he needed to know. 

Drew reached for the zipper at the side of her skirt and slowly pulled it down. The soft fabric slid down her hips and fell to her feet. Her black lace thong was all that separated Drew from her pleasure zone.

Beccah reached down and began to undo the buttons on his shirt, while he ran his hands up and down her thighs, and over her rounded back side. The only time he stopped was to ease the shirt of his sculpted body. Still sitting, it was his turn to unbutton her silk blouse and let it join her skirt on the floor. He could see her excitement, evident in the hard nipples straining against her black lace bra.

"Oh God Bex," he said kissing her between her firm globes. "I want you so bad."

Beccah giggled and pushed Drew away, causing him to lie back on his bed. "Careful what you wish for, big boy," she said in a very feline voice.

Beccah's hands brushed his cock, as she reached to unbuckle Drew's leather belt. His reaction was immediate when she slowly pulled his zipper down on his slacks. He slid back into the middle of his bed while she pulled his slacks off and tossed them aside. She pulled off his socks and then looked at him with a determination he didn't expect.

Stalking like a lioness, Beccah began to move her toned body up Drew's form. He did his best not to grab her and throw her down, but let her set the pace. Slowly she crawled up his body, stopping to lick or nip at his thighs. As she approached his boxers, she rubbed her cheek along the prominent bulge that had formed. She turned her head and gently bit through his boxers. His cock jerked at the thought of her mouth being on him.

When Beccah reached his belly, she kissed in a straight line up to his chest. Her legs now straddled him and he could feel the heat she generated from between her legs, cover his manhood. He felt like a pubescent boy who was going to blow any minute, from excitement. 

She continued, stopping for a moment to suck on his nipples, while he moaned and fidgeted beneath her. Her long dark hair felt like silken threads, on his skin. She kept crawling up, attacking his neck with nibbles up to his ear, and finally whispering, "Are you ready for me?"

Drew's hands went to her back and he popped her bra open with one movement. Beccah sat up, grinding her crotch into him, letting the bra slide down her arms and onto Drew's chest. He was mesmerized by the brown toned areolas and the hard nipples that came into view. He threw her bra aside and took hold of each breast, massaging them and rolling her nipples between his thumb and forefinger.

It was Beccah's turn to moan as the tingling from his nipple play moved through her body, down to her clit. It was like Drew had flipped a sensory switch on her body, and she was afraid she would overload with pleasure.

Beccah dropped onto his chest, devouring his mouth with hers. Her tongue sought out his urgently, and they took turns feeding each others mouths. Drew's arms held her tightly against him and his hips began to move as her body gyrated against his.

He couldn't take any more of her teasing and gently rolled her onto her back. Beccah gasped as control was removed from her, and now he was taking over. He held her close, smelling the sweet fragrance of lavender in her hair, before he moved and covered her mouth with his, drinking her in. She ran her nails up and down Drew's back while he kept her mouth captive, sending shivers down his spine.

"God Bex," he growled as he broke away from her. "You make me crazy."

He looked down at her round breasts, with nipples that stood straight out. Just his look caused her to breathe a little faster, in anticipation of what would come next. He kissed down her chest to her breast and then underneath it. Drew began licking her there, and then up to her areola, tasting the salt of her skin. Round and round he traced with his tongue, before giving her nipple a flick.

"Ohhhhh," Beccah moaned, bringing her hands to his head and trying to hold him closer.

He didn't think her nipples could get harder, but he watched as they tightened more. He covered one with his mouth and began to suck, savoring every taste, and enjoying the moans she was emitting.

His hand went to her other breast and he began to massage her, taking time to play with her erect nipple. Drew noticed her hips were beginning to move, involuntarily. While giving her a little nip, he allowed his hand to begin its lazy journey downward. Moving over her belly with feather-like touches, Drew was in no hurry to get to his goal, yet also couldn't wait.

When Beccah spread her legs, waiting for his touch, she released her personal fragrance into the air. There was no doubt how much she wanted him, confirmed even more by the wetness that had formed. Drew moved the small piece of wet fabric aside, and immediately began to run his hand up and down over her bare mound.

"Oh, oh God Drew," Beccah panted. "I need you."

Drew got up off Beccah and pulled her wet thong from her body. He got between her open legs and began to kiss her soft skin. All over her sweet valley, kissing, licking in the creases where it met her leg, not ignoring one inch of her body. He relished the feeling of her squirming beneath him, knowing her pleasure was mounting. Drew looked up to see her head rolling back and forth on the pillow.

Gently, he moved his hands to her lips and unfolded his prize. Her pearl glistened with her wetness and she was pink and swollen with excitement. He ran his tongue all around her clit before taking it in his mouth. Beccah's hands went to his hair and her hips rose. While Drew sucked on her clit, he gently slid two fingers into her pussy, massaging her G-spot.

Beccah almost sat straight up and screeched, "Oh God!"

Drew's hand suddenly became very wet and he felt her body begin to tremble in orgasm. He pulled away from her clit, to drink her womanly nectar. Beccah's hips continued to move up and down, and she pulled at him, either to get him to stop or to get him to stay. Her words were unintelligible. 

When she stopped shaking, he pulled back and looked up at her. She looked like an angel, with her hair spread out on his pillow, and her face glowed. Drew got up and pulled off his boxers. His cock was hard and red as he got on his knees between her legs and began nudging her. Beccah's head shot up and she looked him in the eye. She reached down between her legs to grab hold of his throbbing shaft and guide it home.

He filled her with one movement. Beccah's legs wrapped around him and her hands gripped his ass, pulling him in even deeper. Her brown eyes were locked on his hazel ones, and he saw a determination taking over. His strength was matched by hers. She met his thrusts and returned them, each time pulling him in as deep as possible. 

"I need you Drew," she whispered. "I need you now."

Pure lust took over and Drew drove into her with a renewed vigor. The couple held each other trying to get as close as they could. Beccah's legs clamped around him even tighter and he gripped her shoulders forcing him in even more deeply. They never broke their stare. Thrusting, pushing, giving, receiving, harder, faster, wanting, needing and then....and then...

Beccah could feel Drew's cock swell and his hands pulled at her. She held on as tightly as she could with her legs, and raised her hips up higher as he drove in one last time, exploding and filling her with his juice. Drew pushed and pushed into her, and she felt herself cum for a second time, her fluids mixing with his.

Drew fell on top of Beccah, still holding her close, his cock still buried inside her. He truly didn't want this moment to end. He raised his head and kissed her gently, barely touching his tongue to hers. He finally rolled off to her side and pulled her in to his arms.

Beccah basked in the warmth of his embrace, his legs intertwined with hers. With her head on his chest, she could hear the thump, thump, thump of his heart and thought there was no sweeter sound in the world.

She leaned back and looked up at him. His face was filled with love and tenderness for the woman in his arms. Their mouths came together once more in an unhurried kiss. Drew's hands moved up and down her arms and back. Hers went around him to bring her body closer. They stayed quiet, just kissing, holding and massaging.

"Bex, this is where you were meant to be, you know. When you came back, it wasn't supposed to be to Richie. You were supposed to come back to me. I knew that the moment I saw you in the diner," Drew whispered.




Becca's Breaktime



I spent my lunch break in the women's locker room at the factory, buried balls-deep in Becca Ferguson, the nineteen-year-old press operator who wanted me. I didn't want Becca. She was flat-chested and kind of dumb, no real ambition but to get married and start cranking out babies like a puppy mill. Still, she wanted me, and I was willing to use her to get what I really wanted, which was Susan.

Becca and I had our shirts on, but our pants around our ankles. I pounded into her, stroke after stroke after stroke. She'd slipped her hands up under my shirt and dug her nails into my spine. I cupped my fingers over her hips and tried hard to make sure I didn't come too soon.

I knew when Susan was supposed to take lunch. I'd timed seducing Becca precisely. Of course that wasn't hard, since I only had to get her to do what she already wanted to do. Becca and I took first lunch, and Susan was on second lunch. So I just walked into the women's locker room as Becca was taking off her work smock, wrapped my arms around her waist from behind, and began sucking her earlobes. She leaned back into me. I rubbed my thumbs in figure-eights over her belly and pressed my crotch into the back of her jeans.

After a moment, Becca tried to turn to me, but I squeezed her back into me. "Neil?" she asked.

"Ssh," I whispered, and slipped one hand up to cup her tiny breast. Every time she tried to talk I shushed her. That was the only thing I said to her, over and over, just "Ssh," whenever she tried to talk.

I leaned us forward so her cheek rested against the cold metal lockers. I pressed my weight into her. One hand pinched and pulled at her nipple through her t-shirt, the other hand slid down to her jeans. My fingers went under the denim and fingered the elastic of her panties. She started to moan, and I pressed my lips onto hers. My thumb and index finger went into her panties and sought for her clit. Becca was already starting to get wet in her clothes. Slowly, tentatively, I began to move my crotch up and down against her.

"Stop, Neil," she whispered, but her voice was trembling with lust. "Someone might come in."

"Ssh," I answered.

I didn't love Becca, and I didn't want her. She was pretty enough, guess, she was the high side of average anyway. But she was just I child. I want real grown women. Women like Susan.

The strokes of my crotch on Becca's pert, childish ass became quicker, longer. I dry-humped her from behind while I used one hand on her slit and one hand on her breast to keep her interested. My fingers found her clit, and I rubbed my thumbnail in several slow circles over it. I wanted to stick my fingers into her, but her jeans fit too snugly. So I took my other hand off her breast long enough to unbutton her jeans, and I fit first one finger into her, then two.

I worked my fingers in time to how I worked her ass. With each upstroke on her ass I pulled my fingers out of her. With each downstroke I pushed my fingers back in. Becca moaned and trembled as I took her from both sides at once, standing up. I slipped a third finger into her.

Even as I worked Becca's body like a violin, I struggled to think about anything but sex. I thought about the pneumatic presses out on the factory floor. I thought about bills and cleaning out the refrigerator. I didn't want to come yet. I didn't want to come until the right audience saw me.

Becca was just theatre. I wanted to be seen with her. I wanted Susan to see how I made love. Susan worked on the shear line and I only saw her when we were clocking out or taking a coffee break. I would talk to her when I could. She was forty-one, ten years older than me, but whenever I talked I felt the flutter in my belly that told me it was love. Susan had sleek black hair and large firm breasts, long muscular legs and feather-soft fingers.

Susan was also married. Her husband was my boss, Jeff. But everyone knew Jeff was a bigamist--his first wife was his job. Jeff didn't treat Susan like a smart, sexy woman ought to be treated. I wanted to be the one who gave Susan what her halfwit husband wouldn't.

I wanted Susan to see how I made love to a woman. I worked hard to be gentle but firm, commanding but affectionate. Becca would make a good example, because she wanted me and would do whatever I asked of her.

Becca closed her eyes and smiled as I slid a fourth finger into her. I didn't know if Becca was a virgin, and I didn't want her to cry out and draw attention too soon, so I was being careful. My other hand switched to her other breast, pinching at her through her shirt. I bit her gently on the neck and sucked her skin through my teeth. Her ass was soft and warm, and her cheeks folded over my dick through her jeans.

Suddenly Becca's knees wobbled and she almost dropped out from under me. She dropped what seemed like gallons of juices onto the hand I had up in her. Her hands reached around behind me and gripped my ass cheeks, pulling me into her.

"Don't stop," she hissed at me.

"Ssh," I whispered.

I lifted her up off the lockers, turned her around, and leaned her against the cool blue tile wall. We were face to face for the first time. I pressed my mouth into hers, slipped my tongue out, licked her teeth and tasted her. Though I didn't really want Becca, I had to admit to myself, she had a dark, sweet-sour taste that I really enjoyed.

Becca's hands unbuckled my belt and fumbled at my fly. I caught her wrists in my hands. "Too quick?" she asked softly.

"Ssh."

"I'll go slower."

She reached around and slipped her hands into my back pockets. Her short warm fingers arched around the contours of my ass. Her thumbs made circles over my jeans. It felt good, and I almost forgot who this performance was for.

My crotch pressed into hers. She spread her knees so I could fit into her. Her crotch was warm and wet on mine. I pressed both hands onto her tiny breasts and pressed them into her body, rubbing them in slow circles as I kissed her mouth and neck. She arched her back and pressed her body tight into mine.

Becca slipped her hands back out of my pockets and cupped my hips. She pressed the heels of her hands into me and slid her warm palms down to my thighs, up to my waist. She repeated this motion two more times, then reached back around for my fly. I didn't stop her this time as she opened my zipper.

I took my hands off her breasts and reached for her jeans. As she pushed mine off me I pushed hers off her. Now there was only the thin cotton of our underwear between us. I moved my hips from side to side over her like a pendulum. Her juices soaked into my boxers. I would wear her smell through the rest of the shift, and the thought made me so horny I almost came right then.

My hands reached around Becca's body. The tips of my fingers met in the small of her back, just over her ass. I used my fingers to feel out the bones of her spine, and I circled them one by one as I moved up. When I reached the point where she was leaning aganst the wall I cupped my hands over her shoulder blades and hugged Becca into me, crushing her breasts into my chest.

The more I stroked her back and sucked her neck and dry-humped against her she started to tremble again. She threw her head up so I got a full view of her white throat. Her pulse beat in the veins of her neck, and I nibbled at her like a vampire. Then her knees buckled again. She arched her back so hard I was afraid she'd push me over and we'd tumble to the floor. Her juices spilled out again, and began to run down both our thighs.

I knew it was time to finish this performance. I gave her a few moments to stop bucking and trembling, then I reached down and wrapped my arms around her waist. She didn't speak or resist as I lifted her off the wall and laid her down on the pine bench that ran down the middle of the locker room. Her eyes were closed, and she looked exhausted. As I let go of her she dropped her arms off the sides of the bench and they swung limply. I smiled. I knew I was good, but it was easiest when a girl really wanted what I offered.

I stood over her and pushed my boxers down. The elastic caught for a moment on my erection, and I couldn't help but smile at the sight of myself standing there with my underwear hanging like laundry off an eight-inch hook. I shook myself a little and my underwear dropped to the floor. Then I reached down and hooked my fingers into Becca's panties.

"No more," she said without opening her eyes. "I can't do any more."

"Ssh," I whispered.

"Really, Neil," she insisted. "We have to get back to work."

"Ssh."

I pulled her panties off her. She lifted her hips as I pulled her panties down. I smiled again--so much for her protests.

I swung my leg up over the bench and stood straddling her, looking down at her limp form as she struggled not to fall asleep. Maybe she was a child, maybe she was flat-chested, but she looked pretty just now with her eyes closed and her lips just slightly parted. I had timed everything right. Susan would come in to change for lunch just in time to see Becca call my name.

I lay my weight down on Becca, pressing her breasts into me. She opened her lips a little more, and I kissed her, sucking more of her dark taste into my mouth. I put my hands onto her hips and guided myself to the edge of her.

Becca reached her hands up and pushed at the bottom edge of my shirt. I slipped just the head of my dick into her, and she grasped and pulled. I went into her about a third of the way. She gasped as I penetrated her body. I slid back out for the second drive. Her hands on my back and my hands on her hips moved me straight in about two-thirds of the way. My pulse pounded in the veins of my dick. I slid partway back out, and she and I worked together to get me all the way up into her.

Nothing blocked my way. Becca was tight, but she was no virgin. I rested inside her a moment, giving her a moment to relish what she'd always wanted--and, I admit, to enjoy her taut body. Then I began to move up and down on her.

As when I'd dry-humped her, I started slowly. I don't know if Becca gossiped about sex with the other women at work, but if she did, I wanted to make sure everybody knew I didn't rush anything. I wanted everybody to know I took my time to enjoy every inch of the process.

When I pushed into Becca she pushed back. Her hips tightened and squeezed under my hands. Her skin was smooth and warm. Her body was so willing, so eager. I picked up speed a little at a time. I moved in and out of her, and she moved underneath me. I wanted her to enjoy every minute of this.

Then I heard some footsteps outside the locker room. I lifted my eyes just enough to recognize Susan's shoes as she walked into the room. She took two steps in, then realized what was going on. She stopped dead in her tracks. "Neil?" she whispered. "Becca?"

I carefully didn't look up. If I showed her this was all for her benefit it would ruin the effect, and I would never have a chance at her sweet firm body. I just kept pounding into Becca. The time was at hand, I could do what I'd been avoiding since this all started. I was ready to come.

Susan stepped forward. Becca was so blissful and sleepy under me that she didn't seem to notice. But I watched Susan's feet out of the corner of my eye. I expected her to come about halfway up to us and stop. That would give her a good strong angle to see when Becca and I came together.

Then Susan surprised me by walking all the way up to us. She stood right at our shoulders, silent as church, watching as Becca and I approached climax. I grinned as I realized things were about to get even better than I had planned.

I took my hands off Becca's hips and pushed her shirt up, revealing her breasts, still clad in a white satin bra. Her breasts were still small, but the nipples were red and swollen under the fabric from the treatment I'd given them. I hooked my thumbs under the cups and pushed them off her breasts. Becca lay under me, almost completely naked, as I continued to pound into her, getting faster and faster as I approached the end.

I cupped one hand over one of Becca's breasts and pressed it into her body, and I took the other nipple between my teeth. As we pushed into each other I pulled on the nipple. She let out a squeal of orgasmic bliss.

"Ssh," I hissed between my teeth.

With my other hand I reached up and caught one of Susan's breasts. Susan yelped and jumped back, but I kept my hand right on her breast, through her work smock. After a moment, I felt both of Susan's trembling hands fold over my hand and hold it against her. I knew at that moment that I had won Susan, not just as a friend, but as a lover. I did what her halfwit husband had never done--I possessed Susan, body and soul.

I massaged Becca's breast with one hand, and Susan's with the other. My scrotum tightened underneath me, and I pushed myself as hard as I could into Becca's body. The first explosion of my come made all the lights seem brighter, made the two women in my hands seem warmer. I filled Becca with stream after stream of my jism. It felt like I spilled gallons and gallons into her body. A small part of me thought it would be great if Becca would form my baby inside her womb as I consummated my love for Susan.

After the climax I stayed inside Becca just a little longer, packing my come into her with a few extra strokes to make sure it all reached its goal. I didn't love Becca, but she wanted to have children, and if the first one was mine, the thought was only that much more sexy for me.

Finally I stood, never taking my hand of Susan's breast. For the first time I stood face to face with the woman who would soon be my lover, maybe my wife, maybe the mother of my children. This beautiful older woman, this goddess of the factory, for whom I had seduced this little girl. I kept my hand on her breast, and she kept her hands folded over my hand, as I laid a soft gentle kiss on her lips.

"Can I give you a ride home after work?" I whispered into the cup of her ear, already giddy to know that it would be my home where we would stop first.

"I would like that," she replied.

At last I let go of Susan's breast. She watched, smiling, as I pulled my boxers back on. Before I put my jeans back on, I looked over at Becca. Her eyes were closed and her lips fluttering lightly in her breath as she tried not to fall asleep. I had really exhausted her. No, I didn't love Becca, but she made an excellent lover. Maybe if Susan gave me permission I could keep Becca as my second woman. I thought of having Becca and Susan together with me in my bed, and I began to get stiff again. I knew I had to stop myself, because I needed to get back to work.

I looked back at Susan, and she looked at me. Her eyes were the deepest blue. I laid another soft gentle kiss on her lips. She answered me by placing one feather-soft hand on my ass and giving a light squeeze. "I'll see you tonight," I whispered into her ear, and she nodded.

I turned and went back to work. 



Becca's Coming of Age



I've been told that when my mother was in labor with me, my father made the mistake of getting his head down close to her. When he did so, she put him in a headlock and rasped, "If you ever touch me again, I'll fucking kill you."

Twelve hours later, I was born. Surprisingly enough, my little brother, Michael, followed two years later.

My name is Rebecca Lee Garrett. I was born on February 29th, 2012. As a result, I have had all of four actual birthdays since then. On all non leap years, my family celebrates my birthday either on February 28th (odd years) or March 1st (even years).

My father is the Reverend Jason Garrett, pastor of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, and currently the Bishop of the DC Metro Synod (as in Washington, DC). My mother is Dr. Erin Benning Garrett, and from 2021 until 2029, she was the Secretary of Education under President Tara Martinson.

My family lives in Georgetown, in Washington, DC. So does my Uncle Austin's family, and my Aunt Emily's family. There is an explanation as to how the entire Garrett clan came to live in Georgetown.

We all used to be from the Los Angeles area, in California. I was born at Henry Mayo Hospital in Valencia, California. I wasn't supposed to be born there, but my mom went into labor when she and my dad were up visiting a friend of theirs at El Camino Pines, a Lutheran camp about fifty miles north of Los Angeles. In 2021, when I was almost nine, my mom was appointed as Secretary of Education, and we moved to DC. My dad found a Lutheran parish looking for a pastor, and then in 2027, was elected bishop of the synod.

My Uncle Austin and his wife, Kat, were from Pasadena. I had heard that once upon a time my Aunt Kat did a little bit of amateur porn, but I didn't believe it. Unfortunately, when I was twelve, a classmate of mine showed me the November 2009 Hustler in which she could be plainly seen screwing some guy's brains out.

Anyway, Uncle Austin is in the Air Force. In 2024, he was promoted to colonel and assigned to the Air Force Intelligence office at the Pentagon. The house right next door to my parents' house was for sale, so Austin and Kat bought that house and moved in. Their son, Reginald (he goes by Reggie), is my age - he was born a month after I was.

My Aunt Emily (Dad's baby sister) and her husband, Marty Daly, lived in Northridge, but they moved to DC in 2026. If Uncle Marty's name sounds familiar, it's because from 2010 till 2024, he was the starting quarterback for the Los Angeles Marauders of the National Football League. Before that, he was the starting quarterback for four years at the University of Southern California. He retired in 2024 when his doctor told him that if he suffered one more concussion, it would probably cause severe brain damage.

In May of 2026, Uncle Marty was offered the job of head coach of the Washington Redskins. Well, he and Aunt Emily and their daughter, Marianne, packed up and moved to Georgetown, where they bought the house across the street from Uncle Austin. Marianne was born in March of 2014, two years after me.

In January of 2029, President Martinson's term ended. However, she and her husband, Jacob, and their sons Russell (two months older than me) and Mark (Marianne's age), liked Washington so much that they decided to stay. In fact, they ended up buying the house right across the street from my parents', which was rather convenient, since she was an old college friend of both of my parents.

Now I had friends from school, and from church. However, my real "crew", as I liked to call it, was my cousins and the President's sons. Reggie and Russell were best friends, and I was very close to both of them. Mark and Michael were best friends as well, and Marianne was always around them. As it was, the three of us older kids were always hanging out with the three younger kids because our parents wanted us to keep an eye on them.

That had its ups and its downs. It was always fun hanging out with so many people, but when Reggie, Russ, and I turned 17, we couldn't go to R-rated movies as long as they were hanging out with us, which they usually were.

They group of us were so close that nobody was really that surprised when, in the fall of 2029, Mark asked Marianne to go to homecoming with him. After that, they started dating. It was very cute, but kind of made Mike feel like a third wheel sometimes. As such, I made it a point for us to hang out as a group more, so that Mike would feel more included.

I had had a thing for Russ all through high school, but as the son of the President, and then the son of the former President, he pretty much had the pick of the litter. He played free safety and wide receiver for our high school's football team, and throughout most of high school had a cheerleader on his arm.

I probably could've been a cheerleader. I've got the looks - a lot of people at my church tell me how much I look like my Aunt Kat, which is strange, since I have no blood relation to her at all. I got my dad's height - I'm 5'10" - and my mom's looks - kind of. I got her face, her complexion, and her chest - a fantastic 36D. However, I somehow ended up with red hair and bright green eyes, and the only explanation I can find is three generations back - my great grandmother was an immigrant from Ireland, and she had red hair and green eyes as well.

However, I was told that I was too tall to be a cheerleader. My parents, though, are both very talented musically, and I inherited that. I'm a classically trained pianist (got that from Dad), and I can sing the theme from The Phantom of the Opera without missing a note (got that from Mom). Fall semester of my senior year of high school, I was offered a full ride scholarship to Julliard. I accepted it right away, of course.

On March 1st, 2030, we celebrated my eighteenth birthday. The Martinsons hosted it, which made me quite happy - they had an indoor pool, which meant that I would get to put as much as possible on display for Russ to see. After all, he had been single for over a month now!

My family was there, as were Uncle Austin's family and Aunt Emily's family. My dad, Uncle Austin, Uncle Marty, and Jacob Martinson all got quickly blitzed on beer, while the women got a little more slowly smashed on wine.

"Well," I commented as the six of us teenagers sat in the Martinsons' family room, "this is a REAL fun birthday party. The adults are all smashed. What the heck are we supposed to do?"

"I'm going swimming," said Marianne. "Screw them. Who's with me?"

Mark and Mike both hopped up and followed her out. Then I saw a look pass between Reggie and Russ, and Reggie got up and left as well. GULP. There I was, wearing nothing but a bikini, alone in the room with Russ Martinson.

We sat in silence for a moment. Then he spoke.

"Becca," he said.

Becca? He had never called me that before. It was always Rebecca or R.L. Only my closest girlfriends called me Becca.

"Becca," he said again, "there's something I really need to tell you."

Oh God. Oh God.

"I really like you," he continued slowly. "I have for a long time."

"Why-" my voice came out like a croak. I cleared my throat. "Why didn't you ever say anything?" I forced out.

"I was too nervous to," he replied. "You're just so beautiful, and such an incredible musician, I always figured that you'd just reject me out of hand."

"Wait a second," I said. "You were too nervous? Russ, you must've dated two thirds of the varsity cheerleading squad in the last three and a half years!"

He waved his hand in dismissal. "Yeah, some of them were cool, but a lot of them only wanted to date me because I was the President's son. They thought that if they could get me in bed, it would make them better than all other girls or something."

Oh. That was something I didn't know. I mean, I guess I had figured he'd been having sex with those girls, but I'd always kind of hoped...

"When I told them that I wasn't going to have sex with them just because they wanted to say that they had gotten the President's son in bed, a lot of them broke up with me. There were three that didn't - they're cool, and even though I've broken up with them, I'm still friends with them."

Oh God, I shouldn't ask, but the question's just going to force it's way out... "Did you... did you..."

"Yeah," he answered before I could even get the question out. "I'm definitely not a virgin. Sometimes I regret the fact that I didn't wait, but in a strange way, I don't regret having sex with any of those three."

Dammit, it was all three.

"The thing is," he continued, "uh, the thing is..."

Where was he going with this?

"The reason I regret not waiting is because I wish that it had been you."

OH HOLY SHIT. Here was Russ Martinson, son of the former President, Mr. Popular Jock, homecoming king 2029, telling me that he wished he had saved his virginity - FOR ME. "Oh boy," I said. "That's almost more than I can take."

"I'm sorry," he apologized quickly. "I just really needed to tell you that."

"No, no," I replied. "It's okay. Trust me, I do not mind being told that. It's just way more than I ever expected to hear from you."

Then something occurred to me. Wait a second, how had Russ gone from sitting on another couch to sitting next to me, with his hand on my knee? Not that that was a bad thing, I had just been so occupied with what was going on that I had failed to notice him move.

"Do you think... do you think there could be something between us?" he asked hesitantly.

"Sure!" I said. Oops, that was a little too happy. "Yes, I definitely do."

And then, before I could lose my nerve, I leaned into him and kissed him.

But did the rat bastard kiss me back? NO. He broke it and said, "Wait a second, are you sure you want to do this?"

"Quite sure," I replied. I kissed him again, and this time he responded. After a few minutes of just plain kissing, I got a little bored, so I snaked my tongue into his mouth.

When it touched his, I felt him take a quick breath, but he responded quickly... and then, just as quickly, he pulled back and said, "Maybe we should go someplace a little more private."

"Someplace a little more private" turned out to be his bedroom. We sat down on the bed - and immediately went back to our little make-out session. After a few minutes, he broke the kiss again and began kissing my neck. My breath sped up, and I could feel my pussy starting to get wet. Calm down, I commanded myself. You don't want to get too excited too fast. After all, this might be as far as it goes.

Well, that's what I told myself right up until he unbuttoned the top button of my blouse... then the second... and then all of them. He kissed his way down my chest, and then kissed my stomach. Oh God, that feels good, my mind told me. I had to agree.

Looking up at me, he slowly unclasped the fastener on the front of my bra. He separated it, freeing my breasts. Gently, he kissed each one of them, slowly twirling his tongue around the nipple. Now THAT was a new sensation for me, and it almost made me cum then and there.

Then he backed off and unbuttoned his own shirt. Oh God, he was fantastic. His pecs were beautifully formed, and had nice definition, but not too much - like you'd see on a body builder. He had washboard abs, and he had an even tan - something that's rather hard to come by in Washington, DC! Ever so slowly, he unzipped his khakis and pulled them down and off of his legs, leaving only a pair of black boxer briefs concealing what appeared to be a fantastic ass and an even more incredible cock.

But he had to tease me. As he returned to me, I reached for the waistband of his underwear, but he grabbed my wrist, stopping me. Hooking a finger under the waistband of both my skirt and my panties at the same time, he slowly slid them down, over my knees, and off of my legs, leaving me completely naked. I don't completely shave my pussy like so many women do these days, but keep it trimmed, very neat, and very short. In fact, I've seen porn from the beginning of the twenty-first century, and it appears that this was definitely the style back then.

Russ apparently approved, because he dived right in, using his tongue to do things to my pussy that I had never been able to do just with my fingers. I let out a soft moan as he worked his magic, feeling like I had never felt before.

But he was still just teasing me. He took me right to the edge of orgasm, and then stopped. Automatically, my hand went to my pussy, starting to rub it - I wanted to cum, dammit! But he grabbed my wrist again and moved it away. "Not yet," he said, with a hint of laughter in his voice.

Then, he walked a few feet away and turned his back to me. With agonizing slowness, he rolled down his boxer briefs and let them slide down his legs and off his feet. Oh God, his ass was beautiful. I wanted to rush over and take a bite out of it. Turning his head to look at me over his shoulder, he said, "You like what you see?"

Oh yeah, I liked what I saw. And then, he turned around.

His cock was perfect, just like the rest of his body. It was erect and rock hard, about nine inches long. And he didn't have a jungle surrounding it, like guys in pornos usually do. Instead, he had his pubic hair trimmed - not as short as mine, but it definitely was an area he paid attention to.

He walked back over to me, and as soon as it was in range, I wrapped my left hand around his cock. I gently stroked my hand up and down its length, surprised at just how warm it was. I reached up and kissed the tip of his cock, slowly licking it, almost like an ice cream cone.

"Um, yeah, you're going to need to stop that," Russ said. "If you don't, I'm going to blow my load all over the wall."

Reluctantly, I pulled my mouth away from his beautiful cock. "You're going to have to do something soon, then," I replied.

He opened the drawer of his nightstand and removed what I recognized to be a condom package. I had never actually seen one in use - public school sex ed is awful - but I knew what it was. I watched, fascinated, as he withdrew a small circle of clear latex rubber from the package and gently rolled it down the length of his cock.

Returning his attention to me, he leaned me down on my back on the bed, then leaned over me, supporting himself by putting one hand on either side of me. His cock laid with its tip just below my belly button. He slowly rubbed it up and down my slit, brushing my clit with each pass. He brought me just to the brink of orgasm once again - and then, just like every damn time before, stopped.

"Okay," he said.

Pulling his cock all the way back, he positioned its head right at the entrance to my pussy. I watched, entranced, as the head made contact with my inner labia. He slowly pushed forward. As I watched, the head slipped between the lips of my pussy and I felt it enter me. He continued pushing forward, and I watched, amazed, as more of his cock disappeared into my pussy. Then I felt him come up against something, and he stopped.

"I'm at your hymen," he said. "I can still pull out, no harm, no foul, or we can keep going."

Oh, come on. Did he seriously think I wanted to stop?

"Let's DEFINITELY keep going," I replied.

"Okay, then," he replied. "What's going to happen next will probably hurt - maybe a little, maybe a lot."

Oh. This was what I had heard from my friends about the pain when their so-called "maidenhead" was busted.

"Be gentle," I said.

Having received the go ahead, he pulled back a little, and then quickly thrust forward.

Huh. Well, I felt pressure and a little pinch as my hymen gave way, but it didn't hurt that badly at all.

He stopped. "Did it hurt?"

"Not really," I replied. "Keep going!"

He resumed his ever so slow rate of entering me. I continued to watch his cock enter me, centimeter by centimeter. As I watched the last little bit of it enter me, I felt a tingle of pleasure as his cock ran into something - my cervix, I assumed.

He was completely inside of me, the tip of his cock in contact with my cervix. Oh boy, that felt good. "Okay," I said, "are you just going to sit there, or are we going to keep going?"

"Let's get it on," he replied with a grin. He moved me further back, so that I was all the way on the bed, and laid himself down on top of me.

And then he pulled his cock all the way out of me. It was almost disappointing, the sudden emptiness that it left when he pulled out. But no sooner was he out than he pushed it back in - all the way back in. Then he pulled out, but not all the way this time. He quickly established a rhythm of in-out, in-out, thrusting quickly, but not too quickly. He brushed my cervix each time, causing my back to arch slightly every time he went in.

It was quite obvious to me that he had some experience, because he definitely knew what to do to get me going. With the thumb and index finger of his left hand, he started gently pinching my nipples, alternating between them. He leaned in and kissed me, hard and deep. As he did so, with all the stimuli that my body was reacting to, I felt an explosion building deep inside of me. As his thrusts got quicker, it got closer and closer to the surface. Then, suddenly, he thrust particularly hard and deep, and as his cock impacted my cervix, I let loose.

My face went white, my nipples got rock hard, and my body started to shake. I felt spasms racing through my pussy, and fluid started leaking out from my urethra. "Oh God," I whispered, "oh God, oh God, oh YES!"

My first orgasm at the hands of a guy was quite amazing. When I finished, I felt Russ's cock still in my pussy. He looked down at me with an amused grin. "Ready for more?" he asked.

Oh, he wasn't done yet! "Oh hell yes."

He pulled out of me, and told me to stand up. Then he laid down on the bed. "Now, turn around and face me," he said.

I did as he ordered, and then, he added, "Now I want you to crouch over my cock, and slowly lower yourself until just the tip of it is touching the outside of your pussy."

I did that too, "but I don't think I'm going to be able to hold myself here for that long," I warned him.

He raised his hands, and grabbed my waist. The upper body strength he had built as a football player was phenomenal, as he seemed to show no effort as he maneuvered my body in several different directions, rubbing my slit and clitoris against his cock as he did so. The stimulus felt amazing, and I felt a mini-orgasm - an aftershock, if you will - coming on. It let loose as the head of his cock just barely penetrated my pussy - and as my body started shaking, he let go of my waist, allowing me to fall the entire length of his cock. It rammed home against my cervix, and the aftershock turned into another full blown orgasm.

And he wasn't about to let it stop. Acting quickly, he began to thrust his pelvis up and down, quickly sliding his cock in and out of my pussy. Each time he brushed my cervix, it caused another wave of the orgasm to flow out into my body. When he took the thumb of his right hand and started massaging my clit, I thought I had died and gone to heaven.

As my orgasm hit peak after peak, I completely lost track of what was going on with Russ. It wasn't till he grabbed my body and held me in place, freezing his cock as deep as it would go inside my pussy, that I realized that he had reached orgasm.

Even though he was wearing a condom, I could feel the warmth of his cum as it erupted out of his cock. The feeling of it against my cervix just added that much to my own orgasm.

When he finally finished, I expected him to pull out of me. But instead of doing so, he left his softening cock inside of me, pulled me to him, and kissed me as hard as he could. I responded in kind. After a couple of minutes of this, I felt his cock growing hard inside me once more. And then he started going again.




Becca's Coming of Age



Grabbing me by the waist, he told me to wrap my legs around his back. When I had done so, he stood up. This was absolutely amazing - there I was, hanging in midair, my legs wrapped around my back, as he thrust his cock in and out of me. Turning so that my back was to the wall, he rested me against it - apparently holding me AND fucking me at the same time was a bit too strenuous, and he needed some support.

With my back against the wall, he picked up his pace again, fucking me with all of his might. The repeated brushing of my cervix quickly brought me back to orgasm. Even with the wall supporting me, though, he just didn't have the strength to keep holding me up as I orgasmed.

Gently, he laid me back down on the bed and went back to fucking me missionary style - like we had started. After a few minutes, I could see in his face that he was coming back up to orgasm. And then - potential disaster.

Apparently, it's not a good idea to use a condom more than once. It just wasn't strong enough, and as he cummed, I felt it as it burst through the end of the condom and landed on my cervix. I almost panicked, but I was having too good an orgasm to really care, and I just let it go as he continued to cum inside of me.

When he finished, he slowly pulled out of me - and there it was, a condom with a shredded tip. There was no cum in it, which meant that both of his loads had drained into my pussy. And that was when I really panicked.

"Oh God," I said. "Oh no, what if... what if I get pregnant?"

When I said the p-word, Russ looked like he'd been hit by a truck. "Oh shit," he said. And that was all he could say. He kind of zoned out.

Quickly, I got up, went to his bathroom, and got in the shower. When his cum drained out of me, it was like the never ending river of semen. Then, even though I know it's really not good for you, I shot the stream from the showerhead up inside my pussy, washing out as much of Russ's cum as I could.

Well, the good news was... I didn't get pregnant. This was confirmed about two weeks later when I started my period. However, despite the initial panic attack, Russ and I started a relationship, and continued to have a lot of sex. Since I didn't want another accident like that first time, I got a prescription for birth control. And let me tell you - good as that first time was, it's even better without a condom.  

That fall, when I went off to Julliard, Russ went to Penn State to play football. Fortunately, it's only a couple hours' drive between them, so we see each other all the time. Our roommates have learned to not be around when we're together. And hey - I get to say that I fucked the ex-President's son.

Although I have a lot more motivation than that...



Becca's Fantasy



On a beautiful spring morning turned quiet afternoon, becca stood all alone in her apartment's kitchen at the sink washing zucchini, squash, and cucumbers for a dinner salad. She heard a slight noise upstairs, but chalked it up to the cats wrestling. With the water running, she failed to hear the light footsteps behind her.

Suddenly an arm wrapped around her chest and a hand covered her mouth. She tensed in fear...her rent-controlled apartment lay in the center of a BAD neighborhood. Then she smelled a familiar scent of sandalwood and felt pointy nails touching her cheek and she knew it was her lover, J, come to give her another of his famous "surprises".

"Bitch", he growled, staying in his role as rapist, "I am gonna take my hand away, and if you know what's good for you, you won't scream...nod your head if you understand."

becca gave a slight nod, and "the man" took his hand away.

becca IMMEDIATELY started to scream, but he read her mind and clamped his hand back over her mouth. He pushed her forward over the sink and said, "That'll cost you"

Using his body to hold her against the counter, he released his left hand from her chest and grabbed a clean dishtowel. He let go of her mouth and promptly whipped the cloth around her head, gagging her. becca wriggled and moaned but didn't struggle TOO hard. "The man" now pushed her lower with his left hand on the back of her neck, forcing her face closer to the sink. He moved his body back a bit and said, "Time to pay."

CRACK!

His right hand arced to becca's bottom, making a loud slap over her pj's, but only giving just enough sting to make her itch inside.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! 

The hand came down again and again, spreading the warmth and sting all over her ass, making the itch inside progressively worse. becca couldn't help herself, she slid a hand inside her jammie shorts and under her panties to touch her clit. Her lover saw this, and a cruel, knowing smile curled his lips. He slowed the spanking, and used his hand to slide her shorts and panties down. becca stopped stroking in order to use both hands to assist him. In a trice, her bottoms lay on the floor at her feet, and her lover's hand caressed her buttocks, feeling the slight heat from their redness.

Teasingly, he slid one finger down the cleavage of her buttocks, sliding just a bit in between. It danced along her anus, then lower to touch the moisture seeping from her lips. His finger brushed her fingertips there, as they resumed their dance inside her.

The touch was like an electric charge. Pushing his pelvis against her to hold her close against the counter, her released her neck, allowing her to straighten a bit. He reached around with both hands and roughly fondled her breasts through her top. His teeth found the pulse beat in her neck, and his lips closed over it as he bit softly, grinding his hips against hers. Becca sighed through the gag.

Pulling his mouth away, he leaned back a bit, grasped the bottom of her pajama top, and yanked it up, forcing her to break her hands away from her treasure. He slammed his hips back in, forcing a grunt from her, and reached around to roll and tug her now exposed nipples with his callused fingers. He whispered dirty things in her ear, keeping up the "evil rapist" act, calling her a nasty little slut who was going to get hers. She smiled a little, hoping for exactly that.

Stepping back a bit, he unzipped his jeans and, without bothering to remove them, slid his rampant cock out. Pushing his body back up against hers, he stoked his cock in the cleft of her ass. He released one beleaguered nipple, pulled the gag out of her mouth, and grasped her hair. Yanking her head back, he licked up the line of her neck and stopped at her ear, whispering "Tell me little slut, do you want to get FUCKED?"

becca mewled, not sure what to say. Of COURSE she wanted his cock inside her, but if she said the wrong thing he might just laugh his evil laugh and leave her there on the brink.

Impatient with her silence, he tugged hard on her hair and said "I KNOW you're a slut, and sluts BEG for cock. If you want me to fuck you, say PLEASE"

becca trembled, and managed to choke out "p...pplease!"

"Please WHAT little slut?"

"Please...I...I want it, I want..." She broke off, stammering over the words.

Growling in disgust at her timidness, he twisted her nipple viciously. "Well slut, if you don't want it enough to say the words I guess I can just leave you here like this."

becca groaned in despair and tried again. "Please, PLEASE, I want you, I NEED you to fuck me! Please give this unworthy slut your cock!"

Her lover released her hair, shoved the towel back in her mouth, and reached down to grasp his throbbing cock. becca gasped in fear as he pressed the head for a moment against her dry ass, causing her to go against her better judgement and whimper "no, no" through the gag, but he slid it down lower, working it between her lips. Becca's juices flowed like a river, making it easy for him to slide inside, but he wanted to TEASE her. So he rubbed it back and forth, never letting more than a bit of the tip inside. Moaning around the gag, frustrated and wishing for her voice, becca tried to push back and capture him in her body, but he chuckled cruelly and pulled away.

Just as she thought she would cry or explode from the tension, he pressed back against her and SLAMMED his dick home. becca screamed behind the gag, not at the slight pain but at the SHOCK of being filled so suddenly and violently.

He whispered in her ear "You are MINE little bitch, and I will have you whenever and however I want, MY way, in MY time"

With that, he began sliding savagely in and out of her. becca's fingers thrummed on her clit, dancing against his shaft as he moved Faster than she thought possible, becca felt herself approaching an orgasm Her lover sensed it too, and slowed his strokes.

"Not yet slut, not until you KNOW [i]ALL[/i] of you is mine"

Out of the corner of her eye, becca saw him pick a bottle of vegetable oil up off the counter. Sliding his cock half way out, he opened the bottle and poured a trickle of the oil down the crack of her ass. becca whimpered again, this time in anticipation of her lover filling her there. He did not disappoint, sliding his cock in and out of her ravaged pussy twice more, then pulling all the way out to rub it in her crack, slicking it with the oil. After a few seconds of this, he placed the head against her pucker, and poured more of the oil over it. He pushed forward a bit, forcing a little of the tip in, then pulled back for a bit more oil. This time he slid forward with a smooth stroke, easily sliding the head past becca's first sphincter ring, and holding it inside.

becca took a deep breath and exhaled, forcing herself to relax her muscles. She moved her other hand to her cunt, knowing the increased pressure on her clit would help ease the pressure on her ass. Her lover leaned forward, the head of his cock now slipping past her inner ring. He kept up the slow forward pressure, letting her lean back, and filling her ass with his cock. Just as it neared bottom, he grabbed both her nipples and tugged, snapping his hips forward, biting in to the back of her neck, and growling "MINE." At this, becca felt the first small orgasm wrack her body. She rode it like a wave as her lover began to thrust in and out of her ass, slow and deep at first, but quickly moving to the faster, shorter, punishing thrusts he'd used on her pussy.

becca whimpered and came again, harder this time. Suddenly her lover pushed her forward and slid out of her ass. becca felt a pressure at the lips of her pussy and she wondered if he planned to switch-fuck her. She puled in protest at the thought, but then realized the thing pressing in to her was FAR rougher than her lover's cock. In fact, it was one of the zucchinis she'd been cleaning! becca growled as she felt the long, rough vegetable filling her, its bumps and contours stroking her insides. Her lover worked it all the way in, then twisted it a few times, seating it in her cunt. He proceeded to spread her cheeks and SPEARED his cock back in to her eager ass. Once again the sting was overwhelmed by surprise and the sudden feeling of being FILLED, this time doubly so. becca took one hand off her clit and twisted the zucchini as her lover sawed in and out of her ass.

He leaned low over her body, whispering a mix of endearments and obscenities in her ear. becca felt herself closing on her biggest orgasm yet. Her lover sensed it too, and he sped up his thrusts, whispering, "Do it pet, come for me, show me what a good little slut you are."

becca shook all over, feeling the sting outside and inside of her ass, the ache in her nipples, the tingling, burning places on her neck, the rough zucchini buried in her cunt, the relentless cock moving in her ass...her fingers tapped out an ancient rhythm on her clit as she abandoned herself to the feelings. Shuddering, shaking, screaming, sobbing behind the gag she came harder than ever before. Her lover rode her ass, right with her, matching his thrusts against her body's spasms, his tongue darting out to taste the tears sliding down her cheeks.

becca's hands halted as her body started to return to normal, and she felt her lover still moving in her ass. She realized he was still hard. He hadn't come yet! Again she felt him pull away. His hand moved past her line of sight, then back again, holding something she couldn't make out through the mist of her tears. A second later, she felt something smooth and cool at her ass. She gasped as she realized he was sliding the narrow end of a wide-bottomed squash in to her abused anus.

"A slut should always be filled completely," he said as he slid the squash home. He untied her gag as the vegetables filling her settled, and then he spun her about for a bruising kiss. He pulled away to look at her beautiful tear-stained eyes, and for the first time in an hour she saw her lover's face and the smile covering it. Eager for the taste of her lips, he leaned in to connect them again. She melted in his kiss, feeling the shocks still running through her body and the fullness of the veggies in her. After a timeless instant he broke the kiss and said "You know what I want baby. I've had your pussy and your ass, now I want you to show me you're my bitch, my slut...finish me like a slut finishes her man after a good ass fucking."

becca nodded, lost in an erotic haze, and she slid to her knees. After all, what could be sluttier than sucking the cock that just reamed her ass? Kneeling, her strong muscles clamping the veggies inside her, becca looked up at her lover...her poutiest, sluttiest look, with a hint of a smile. SHE had control now, and she was going to make him lose his.

becca grasped his cock at the base with her right hand, and put her left back on her clit, stroking gently at the tender surface. She gave one long, slow lick along the bottom of his cock, from base to tip, drawing a shudder from him. Without warning, she PLUNGED, engulfing him, causing his knees to buckle slightly, before he caught himself, unwilling to break away from her mouth. becca pulled back, licking him carefully, removing all traces of the oil and her juices.

He growled now, and ran his finger through her hair, but refrained from forcing her down. He couldn't help pumping his hips a bit though, making her have to pull back a few times against his force. Looking up at him and smiling, becca again took him deep, this time going slow, using her lips and tongue to torture him, scraping just lightly with her teeth.

"Oh gods becca, oh my little slut, my lover, my darling, oh GODS I am so close!"

becca sped up her rhythm slightly, feeling the approach of another small orgasm herself, and knowing the taste of her lover would bring it on. Howling her name, he threw his head back and pumped his hips as his cock ERUPTED, filling her mouth. becca worked hard to catch it but some escaped her lips. She shook as she came again, feeling the stray drops trickle off her chin and on to her nipples.

Her muscles relaxed and she let the veggies slide out as her lover pulled back slightly. She struggled to keep her mouth on his cock, trying to get every drop. He stroked her face gently, letting her drink her fill. Then he pulled away, dropped to his knees in front of her, and embraced her. Heedless of his own leavings on her face, he pulled her tight for a kiss and whispered "my pet" as he closed his lips on hers.

*THE END*



Becca's First Gang Bang



I arrived home from class excited about my night out with friends. It had been a while since I had a Friday night off work without having to be at work early the next morning and I had every intention of partying all night. Dinner with the girls and dancing the night away at the club. 

But when I entered my bedroom and saw what was laying on my bed, I knew my girls night out, was out. Some clothing was very neatly placed at the foot of my bed with an envelope adorned with one word: "Pet".

I opened the envelope and removed the note. 

"Be ready at 8:00"

It was signed "Sir".

My heart was racing. Anytime that Sir left me such instructions, I was in store for an evening that I would certainly never forget.

I inspected the clothing left for me and immediately became excited. It was a white button down shirt, a plaid skirt, simple white cotton bra, bobby socks, and a pair of black and white oxfords on the floor. A school girl uniform. 

Beside this on the bed was a small makeup case with some blush, eye liner, red lipstick and matching nail polish. 

It was only 3:45 so I had plenty of time to get ready but my mind was racing wondering what was in store for me. I wanted to please Sir and make him proud of me, but the anticipation was almost unbearable. 

I called my friend and backed out of our plans, stating some plausible excuse. Sir and I have certain scheduled days a week when we play, but plans do NOT interfere with His surprise events. He is very good to me and I cannot deny Him. 

I went to the bathroom and began getting ready by running a bath and shaving. Sir likes me smooth so I spend extra time getting everything to his liking. After bathing with Sir's favorite soaps and shampoo, I dry my hair and style it now I think he would want it, given my outfit. He loves to play off of our age difference; being that he is more than twice my age, he loves accenting my youthful appearance. Since I know He is going for the school girl look, I consider pig tails, but this screams elementary school, so I decide to go with a single pony tail tied with a red ribbon. 

Still wrapped in my towel, I get my new nail polish and go to the couch. I watch a sitcom rerun as I paint my finger nails and toe nails and let them dry. After this, I return to my room and grab my clothes on the way to the bathroom. I take the tag off of the bra an put it on. It's a cute little thing that reminds me of some of my first training bras years ago, only with larger cups. I dig through the clothes and return to my bed looking for my panties, but there are none. This would indicate that Sir wishes for me to go without. I put on the skirt and am shocked at how short it is. It is pleated like a traditional school uniform but is several inches shorter than any I wore in high school barely a year ago. It covers me but sitting and bending over will be interesting.

Next, I begin my makeup in the bathroom. Sir has included no powder or base and I know that he wants me to emphasize my natural complexion and not hide it. I applied the eye liner followed by a light application of blush; just enough to accentuate my cheeks. Finally, I finished up with the lipstick. Looking in the mirror at myself, I felt that Sir would be pleased. I took my shirt off the hanger and put it on and buttoned it. It was snug but not tight and accentuated my small waist and ample breasts. My bra was slightly visible at certain angles and lighting. He had me dressed to tease. 

It was now 7:45 and I began wrapping up getting ready for Sir's arrival. I had noticed a small pocket on the skirt, just large enough for a credit card or ID. I placed my ID in it even though I'm not old enough to drink and would likely not need it and headed for the living room. As an after thought, I grabbed the new lipstick and put it in the pocket with my ID, for touch up. I get the feeling the bright red lips will be a feature Sir will focus on. 

As I entered the living room, there was a knock at the door. I peeked through the peep hole and confirmed it was Sir, early as usual. I opened the door and invited him in. 

"You look lovely." He says with a grin. 

"Thank you, Sir." I reply modestly. 

"Ready of go?"

"Yes, Sir."

With this brief exchange, he ushers me out the door and locks it behind us. He opens my car door and admires me hungrily as I climb in. He drives us to a popular local night club. With me on his arm, we enter the club and are met with many curious stares of those interested in what our story is. A well dressed, good looking older gentleman with a school girl on his arm. We have a seat at a table and he orders us drinks. He thinks its cute to order a beer for himself and a Shirley Temple for me. My clothes, though not that out of place, continue to attract stares from the club patrons because of the suggestiveness of them given my chaperone. After I finish my drink, Sir encourages me to go dance. He is not one for dancing, but he insists that I go have fun. Walking out on the dance floor with my friends, in clothing that I am comfortable with, is one thing. But going out alone dressed as I am with everyone already eyeing me, is nerve wracking. 

I feel awkward and clumsy dancing at first, but most of the other dancers pay little attention to me and before long, guys start making their way toward me. Most dance with me a moment or two and get an eyeful, others try to get closer. Before I know it, one guy is behind me, gyrating is pelvis against me and reaching around running his hands down the front of my shirt to my waist and around the sides to hold my hips. I look at Sir, who as been watching me the whole time, but he merely nods and grins slightly. I know this means that he is pleased with me and wishes me to continue as I am going. The guy behind me takes my inaction as approval of his advances and proceeds. He works his hands back around to my stomach and holds me against him as he begins very a sexually provocative thrusting motion behind me. He soon pulls one hand behind me and pushes me face forward, to where I am standing in a bent over position, continuing to thrust against my ass. I place my hands on my knees to steady myself as he runs his hands up my thighs lifting my skirt as he does. I have noticed people around us watching and my heart stops, knowing that they are all about to be fully aware that I am wearing no panties. I glance at Sir, who only continues to watch, sipping his beer. Several other guys around me, emboldened by the one guy's advances, decide to chance copping a feel too and move in on me. Before long, I am being passed back and forth from guy to guy on the dance floor. Some grab me close, grinding their obviously hard cocks against me through their pants. Some fondle my breasts, some slide their hands under my shirt and rub over my stomach. I had as revolving sea of guys around me feeling and touching. I was pretty much being publicly molested. And then one was brave enough to reach under my skirt and start rubbing my pussy. 

I looked up at Sir, but he was gone, and my heart stopped. I was about to panic when He appeared in the thick of things. I had one guy behind me, grinding, one either side who had taken my hands and had me grabbing their cocks, and the guy in front of me, who had his finger about to press inside my shaved pussy. 

Sir's voice was calm but commanding, "Pardon me gentlemen, I'm afraid it's time we have to be going."

He pulled me off of the dance floor to the protests of the young guys and toward the main door, with me trailing behind him holding his hand like a child being pulled to a private area for punishment. But i knew i was nit being punished; Sir had plans tonight. We had only been here an hour or so though and I was surprised that we were leaving already. 

When we reached the car, he opened my door like the perfect gentleman and paused. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed me quickly on the lips. The tang of beer on his breath and his touch sent my heart racing. 

"Did you have fun, my pet?" he asked. 

"Yes Sir. " I said, flushed with excitement at his show of affection. 

"Good. Then I think our next stop will not disappoint you either."

This this he gestured me into the car and again eyed me as I got in. We rode in silence for a few minutes. We pulled up and parked at a hotel and he walked around and opened my door. We entered the lobby and he went straight toward the elevator. Then he turned and looked at me as we passed the ladies room. 

"You want to freshen up before we go up. " He said. 

It was more statement than question so I replied, "Yes Sir. Thank you."

I didn't know why I would need to freshen up if we were just going to a hotel room. Surely the bathroom in the room would be fine, but I could tell that he wanted me to go here so I did. I took the opportunity to pee and checked my makeup. I was a little hot from dancing but my blush had stayed fairly well so I just reapplied my lipstick and straightened my clothes. 

When I left the restroom, we entered the elevator and Sir pressed the button for the floor and the doors closed. 

I followed Sir down the hall to the room and stood beside him as he used the key card to open the door. I was surprised entering the room, to find it already occupied. There were several black men already there, sitting on the couches of the luxurious suite room, watching a basketball game on TV. 

The three, neatly dressed, men got quiet and turned to see us as we entered and Sir closed the door behind us. The men, each in their late twenties or early thirties, looked like they were expecting us but looked confused as well. 

"Cut that off." Sir commanded, looking at the television. 

After a moment of confusion from being ordered around by a strange man, one of the men made to turn it off but I, accustom to quickly following Sir's commands, was already at the TV pressing the power button. The men turned and eyed me with cautious smiles on their faces. About this time, another black man walked out of the bathroom and spoke to Sir. 

"Hey, man, I was beginning to wonder if you weren't going to show. " the man said. 

"I'm here, just as promised, Jonathan." Sir said to the man. And added gesturing toward me "And so is she."

Jonathan seem, only then, to notice my presence although the other three had not taken their eyes from me. 

"Oh, man, she's even hotter than I imagined."

"Indeed she is." Sir agreed. 

"Come here baby." Jonathan said walking toward me. 

I glanced at Sir, who simply nodded. Walking to the man, I began to wonder what was going on; why had Sir put me in this situation? But I trust him, so I wasn't scared. Jonathan took my hand and turned me around, appraising me. 

"Damn, she is fine." he said as he sat down on one of the sofas and patted his lap. "Come here baby, have a seat." 

Looking to Sir for confirmation, I was given the same affirming nod. I walked slowly to Jonathan and sat as he had directed. He took his large hands and turned my face back and forth looking me over carefully. Then ran his hands down my shirt, across my breasts, down my stomach and slid them down my thighs to the hem of my skirt. 

Sir spoke up then, "Gentlemen, this is my little Becca. I've brought her here to entertain you all. Enjoy her, but do not hurt her." 

Sir was giving me to these men to use. We had talked about things like this but I felt unprepared and anxious at the thought of being used sexually like this my total strangers. 

When Sir had sat back, obviously finished, Jonathan slowly pulled my skirt up and the other three inhaled deeply as he exposed my shaved crotch. He quickly found my soft folds with his large fingers and began to explore. 

"Come on guys. " Jonathan said to the other three, and they converged on me. 

Since Sir and I met and started playing, never had I been with anyone else. And never before had I been with more than one person at a time. Now, I am faced with four large black men. This was altogether exciting and scary. I glanced again at Sir who was now sitting on another couch watching attentively. He gave no indication of instructions so I went with my instincts. 

One of the other men was unzipping his pants now and pulled out a very large cock and stood close to me. 

"Here ya go babe."

Another glance at Sir revealed no objections, so I grabbed the large black cock and stroked it a few times before pulling it into my mouth. It slid past my bright red lips and the man let out a grunting moan of pleasure as I felt his organ begin really engorging in my mouth. 

I felt hands touching my breasts and thighs and Jonathan's hand still rubbing on my clit. Soon, my shirt was being unbuttoned, exposing my bra and stomach. My bra was pushed down exposing my tits and soon I felt lips sucking my right nipple and fingers pinching and twisting my left. The cock in my mouth began to thrust in and out quickly began hitting the back of my throat, gagging me. I pulled back, but hands were suddenly holding my face as he thrust deeper. I tried to relax and take as much as I could, fighting the gag reflex, and took his cock deeper into my throat. Opening my mouth wide, he shortened his thrusts and I could feel the swollen head of his cock in my throat. I tried my best but eventually gagged and thought I was going to throw up. He saw this and pulled back letting me recover. 

He stepped back and there were the other two men, now naked, pulling me to my feet. Jonathan stood and they pulled my shirt off and removed my bra before sitting me back on the couch. One of them stepped up to my right and thrust his cock in my face and I took it, pulling it into my mouth. He wasn't as big as the first one, but was still larger than any cock I'd ever seen in person. As I sucked him, the other man stepped up to my left. I took his cock and began stroking it. The first man who I sucked was now naked and kneeling between my legs, lifting my skirt and spreading my pussy open. I was wet by this point and his large finger had no trouble penetrating me as he leaned over and began licking my clit. I jumped at the sensation and let out a yelp. This amused the men and they all laughed. 

I pulled the cock out of my mouth and turned to the one on my left and began sucking it as I stroked the one on my right. The man between my legs was moving in closer. I felt his skin on my thighs and then the head if is cock against my, now very wet, cunt. He pressed forward slowly until his head had penetrated me and then pushed in deeper. After a few slow strokes, he pushed in all the way and I felt slightly painful sensation I'd never had during sex. He pulled out again and began thrusting in and out in long strokes. I'd never been with such a large man and at first it was uncomfortable, but I soon was able to take him all without any discomfort. I swapped back and forth on the two cocks to my right and left, sucking one and stroking the other. Jonathan was naked by this point and sitting on the couch beside me playing with my tits. 

The man fucking me was getting faster and faster, thrusting his large cock in and out of me. I was suddenly and surprisingly overcome with an orgasm and let out a loud scream of pleasure as the man continued fucking me. 

"God damn! Look at this bitch getting off on my cock!" the man said braggingly. 

All the men laughed and another said "Yeah, man, she's a horny little slut, ain't she?" Which brought another round of laughter. 

Apparently excited by making me cum so quickly, the man fucking me, was nearing orgasm. 

"Move boys!" He said as he pulled out and stood up quickly. 

I realized at this moment that I'd stopped sucking or stroking the two cocks in my hands and that I was actually supporting myself from them. The man trust his cock at my face and as the others stepped back, pulling me up with their cocks, and practically shoved his in my mouth. I grabbed it stroking with both hands as I sucked it in and out, and within seconds he was cumming in my mouth. He came so much I thought I was going to choke on it all, but managed to swallow it down. 

Jonathan was still sitting on the couch beside me, stroking his cock. I was even larger that the last one and I eyed it lustily. 

"You like that slut?" He asked me. 

"Yes sir." I said. 

"You want to suck it for me little girl?" He said teasingly. 

"Yes sir, I do want to suck it for you." I replied obediently and kneeled in front of him grabbing his huge cock with both hands. 

I begin stroking his gorgeous cock slowly and rub it against my face and lips as his erection grew. Pushing it toward his stomach, I leaned down to lick his balls. I sucked one into my mouth and sucked gently, pulling back. He moaned as I let it slide from my mouth and I stared up at him giggling and bit my lip. I don't know why, but I liked Jonathan the best and was enjoying playing with him. He looked at me and told me not to stop so I began ticking his cock again with my tongue all the way up and down the shaft. His moans continued as I felt one of the others lifting my skirt and pressing his cock against my pussy. I opened up and sucked Jonathan's cock into my mouth as the other shoved his in all the way on the first stroke. I grunted what would have been a squeal, were my mouth not full of cock, at the surprise of being so suddenly impaled. 

After the initial thrust, he pulled out slowly and started fucking me in a steady rhythm. I took as much of Jonathan's cock as I could and pulled my head back sucking as I did. As I was pounded from behind, I continued to slide my mouth up and down on Jonathan's cock sliding my tongue along the underside and licking the head, letting it pop out if my mouth every few strokes. Both men were moaning and grunting as they used my body for their pleasure. I thought of this and remember Sir, watching the whole thing and immediately got very excited and could feel another orgasm coming. I sucked Jonathan with more fury and the other mans cock drove me toward orgasm. I came hard again, pulling his cock from my mouth and almost collapsing into him, his cock pressed against my neck and my face on his stomach. I wrapped my arms around Jonathan's waist and began kissing and licking, and nibbling on his hard abs. He was so absolutely masculine and hard and this drove me over the edge and I came again almost immediately, not from the fucking but from the thought of Jonathan's hard body.

The man behind me started thrusting harder and faster and I could tell he was about to cum inside me, but at the last second, he pulled out and shot his load all over my back. I could feel the warm spurts of his cum hitting my back, starting at my shoulder blades moving back to my ass. He stroked through his orgasm and pumped that last of his load right on my ass and continued thrusting his hard cock in my crack for several more seconds until his spasms had passed. 

As he stood up, I did as well and unzipped my skirt to remove it. The man who has just cum helped me pull it down and stepped back with it after it was removed. I stepped over and sat on the couch beside Jonathan who leaned to me and began kissing my neck and cheeks as his hand fondled my breasts. I turned to him with lust in my eyes and kissed him passionately, putting my hands on his cheeks to keep our lips together. He tasted of beer, and in that moment,I could not remember a more passionate moment in my young life. I was snapped back to reality by the laughing of the other men. 

"Damn right, man!" one called. 

"Here, I know." Another one said and I became aware of something touching me. 

I pulled back from Jonathan and saw that they had found my lipstick in my skirt pocket and were writing on me with it. It was hard to see what was written on my chest, but I later saw that it read "SLUT". On my stomach, one of the men was now writing "CUM DUMP". I was snapped out of my romantic state that I had been in with Jonathan and back to the fact that I was being used by four black men as just that, a cum dump. I was filled with a mixture of embarrassment, rage, and humiliation. My heart was now pounding, not from sexual arousal, but from emotion. I remember Sir at that moment and looked at him; tears starting to well up in my eyes. 




Becca's First Gang Bang



He smiled and reassured me, "It's alright, my pet, you're fine. I'm here, and no one is going to hurt you. "

I smiled at him timidly, he returned his own, very proud one, and my heart lifted. He believed in me and was proud, so I was happy. 

I looked down and saw that the third man standing had just finished writing on my inner thighs and my shaved pubic area "BLACK COCK WHORE". The three men began laughing again, high fiveing each other and exchange more degrading comments about me. 

Sir and I had discussed humiliation and even done some between us, but this was different. These men didn't really know me; all they knew was a young woman, dressed like a slut letting herself get fucked by four strangers. The tears began to rise again at the thought of this real humiliation, but then I saw Sir again and felt some peace return. The man was now kneeling again preparing to push his cock inside me and I thought to myself as he penetrated me. 

"I am a slut. I am a cum dump. I am a black cock whore. But I am Sir's and he is proud of me. He will keep me safe. I will revel in this and enjoy being a slut tonight because I can." I thought. 

The man continued fucking me; emboldened by the humiliating writing, he began saying more humiliating things. 

"Oh god, you like that, don't you, you little slut."

The other two standing men laughed. 

"Yeah, I'm fucking you, you whore. You like being a whore to blacks don't you?"

I was humiliated by this, but oddly aroused as well. I knew Sir would want me to embrace this and go with it so I tried to react positively. 

"Yes. Fuck me. Fuck my pussy with your big cock. I need it. I need your big cock. Fuck me!"

This was too much and the man began to cum, pulling out as he did so, shooting his load all over my stomach and tits. Like the man before, he rubbed his cock on me for a few seconds until his spasms stopped and moved back. 

I then noticed Jonathan looking at me tenderly and the humiliation and anxiety of the last few minutes dissipated. He got on his knees in front of me and started to penetrate me, but then grabbed my arms and pulled me to a sitting position. Without warning, he wrapped an arm around me and one under my ass and stood, lifting me like I weighed nothing. I wrapped my arms around him and held him close, feeling his powerful muscles. He walked to the bed and lay me down gently and then positioned himself over me, reaching down to guide his cock in, but I took his hand and moved it aside. I held his huge cock in my small hand. I looked down and saw the contrast between his dark skin and my fair complexion and red fingernails and was immediately so hot. I had to have him inside me. I pulled on his cock and guided it into my body. I left my hand there for several strokes feeling his massive member slide in and out of me. He was bigger than any of the other three men but I felt it was a perfect fit inside my body. He began to thrust in and out of me and I felt all of the passion returning. Not the shameful, humiliating lust, but sexual passion for this man. I began taking to him as he pushed in and out. The words were the same as before, but this time I meant them in a different manner. 

"Oh yeah, baby, you feel so good." Jonathan said. Not in a teasing, hurtful tone as the last man had, but in a way that suggested he was genuinely enjoying the act, not dominating a smaller, weaker person. 

I wrapped my arms around his neck and laced my fingers together pulling him down as I pulled myself up to him. I kissed him again as he thrust his huge cock in and out of me. We stayed like this, kissing and rubbing our faces on one another while he fucked me deeply. I was enjoying every thrust and felt my orgasm building. His motions indicated that he was ready to cum as well. He started pushing up to prepare to pull out of me before cumming, but I held him in place. At first, he resisted me and began breaking my grip, I saw at this moment how much stronger he was than I, his huge muscles rippling in his arms with a strength I could never match. He relaxed, realizing that I wanted him to stay inside me. I ran my hands down around his shoulders, across his chest, feeling his powerful build, down his sides and finally around to his hard ass. I dug my nails in and he continued thrusting into my body. His cock head began to swell and I knew that he was about to cum. My own orgasm was approaching quickly and I feared he would pull our and leave me on the edge. He thrust, once, twice, and then I felt his cock begin to spasm. He made one more attempt to pull back but I dug in with my nails and held to him, keeping his cock inside me as he shot his load inside my womb. He began thrusting furiously in short quick movements that pushed me over the edge and I came harder that I had all evening. My own spasms milked his cock as he shot the last of his load into me. 

He collapsed on me and his weight felt comforting and secure. I held him close, not wanting it to be over yet. After a minute or so, he propped up on his arms and looked down at me. I caressed his large face with my small hands, marveling at the contrast. He kissed me once more and stood up, leaving me laying spent, naked, covered in cum and smeared lipstick with his fresh load starting to ooze out of my well fucked pussy. 

The other three men were getting dressed by this point. Jonathan sat beside me a few minutes, caressing my body and just looking at me. I had not even gotten their names, but I knew Jonathan's and I hoped this would not be the last time we met. He wasn't like the others and that what I liked about him. 

Sir was ushering the other three out. 

He walked back to where Jonathan was pulling on his pants. 

"Thank you Jonathan; that went well, as always." Sir said. 

"You know it man." Jonathan said, and glancing back at me. "I'd love to see her again, soon."

"I'm sure that can be arranged." Sir replied.