0 comments/  10248 views/  1 favorites

Second

By: nawtyangel_13



"Show me," I whisper.

"What?"

"Show me."

"Show you. . .?"

I whisper even lower. "Will you show me the way she touches you? That's my question. God, I just want to know."

He laughs. He laughs loudly, turning onto his side and facing me. This absolutely devastates me, his laughing, and I turn away from him. I do not have the strength to stand up and run away. I do not have the strength to scream, "Stop." So, I resort to the only action my body can bear. I let the infinite storehouse of tears flow from my eyes.

His laughter ceases. This makes me cry more. I am afraid of what he will say or do. I am afraid that he will offer to call up my old psychiatrist. I am afraid that he will just give me a kiss on my shoulder and dismiss this.

Then I feel his arms around my waist. My body shakes crazily and I want him to make me forget about the next day, or even the next minute of my life. He buries his head into the back of my neck, using his nose to lift my hair away.

"Baby."

My back arches and his hands move to cup my breasts. He kisses the back of my neck softly, in small spurts. My breasts face the knowledge of his hands....fingers pinching gently at my nipples. His naked thigh moves carefully between my bent legs until I can feel the strength of his hardness beneath my sex.

The smell of him behind me is consuming. He moves like a python around my body, his fingers and tongue performing foreplay as if I were a delicately strung harp. His breathing is careful and he does not move quickly. His slowness creates a fire in my belly and I turn my body to him, facing his eyes which are drunk with ecstasy.

"Show me," I breathe, "show me how she kisses you."

He kisses my forehead, moving to my eyelids, cheeks, jaw line, the corners of my lips. Yes, of course. It is clear that he has control of everything that is taking place. I do not try to usurp him but simply reflect to him his own strength.

He closes his lips over mine. My limbs fumble for his legs as his tongue bathes the inside of my mouth. I drink from him as if he were giving me an elixir for all the pains, all the mishaps in my life. His kiss is both masculine and feminime, both overwhelming and yielding. I cry in his kiss and he pulls back momentarily, wiping my new tears, but he knows that more will follow. He returns to kissing me and my mouth receives this reunion wholly, as if one second of absence were an eternity of separation from that kiss.

He feels my hunger and feeds it. I feel his longing. Though I had asked him to show me his wife's art of lovemaking, it now feels as if he and he only is on top of me --body upon body. Carefully, running his hands over me. Examining every curve. Every fold. He has overpowered my mind. All my thoughts are of he and I.

I reach up with one hand, cupping the side of his face. He dips his mouth into the palm of my hand. He licks the fullness of my whole hand, licking each finger with such fervor that it feels like my hand will catch on fire.

He guides my well-licked hands to his chest. My fingers pass over it as if I am playing a piano made of fragile keys. Stopping the leading motion long enough to pinch his nipples between my fingers. He moans lightly, lifting his chin to the ceiling. I break free from his guiding hand. With both hands, I explore his torso, his ribs, the flatness of his stomach. His every muscle is so defined. My fingers dig into the contours of these muscles. He looks down into my eyes with a gaze that says nothing but is full of possibilities.

My hands dance down to his hips. His hardness standing straight outward, pressing against my stomach, twitching slightly. A drop of precum oozing out of the head and landing on my chest as he moves it to my awaiting lips. I consume him fully, as if I had no choice, as if taking him with my mouth were more vital than air or food. I reach behind grabbing his ass cheeks, feeling their muscularity, how they relax and harden with each thrust.

He turns himself over, so that the front of his hips are on my face and his own face, its flushed breath and mouth are over my sex, which is by now rich with wetness and yearning. His knees are at the sides of my face. I take caution in this position, breathing lightly on each other's inner thighs and knees. Running the tip of my tongue over the expanse of his hardness. I inhale him deeply. His head arches up to the heavens with moans directed toward the Goddesses above. I feel and hear this and inhale him again.

He returns my affection, eating fully from my sex, madly burying his face between my legs. Plunging his tongue into my moist flower. He searches my chasm like a buck that thirsts for water so badly, that he will pierce the barren earth with his raw tongue for any droplet of moisture. This is a dance of comfort, closure and truth.

Arms, legs, and torsos take up the expanse of the bed. We search for and find each other's peaks. I am a mass of starvation and celebration--joyous screaming with the body. A shout for love as we both move to a more urgent rhythm. He introduces his fingers to join his tongue's lovemaking. I gasp for precious air and suckle him more deeply into my mouth. Grabbing his ass and pulling his wonderful heaviness down against my face, shutting out all outside air and the dim light of the lamp. He responds by lightly biting my nodule, which sends preliminary waves of joy throughout my lower body.

I wrap my legs over him, my knees crossing above his head. Moans, gasps and screams as suddenly his hips writhe upward and then crash down firercely on my face. Endlessly grinding his hardness into my mouth. His spasms cause him to thrust his tongue even harder inside me, his deft muscle moving back and forth quickly. My back arches, as does his--I am now a cat in heat and we are two cats enraptured by instinct. His jism spews forth into my waiting mouth like lava erupting from a volcano which has laid dormant for years, saving the hot firey liquid till now. This very second. Then he screams my name, not even tending to my sex--this simple bellow of my birth name--makes me come shortly after he does. I swallow his fire. It is heavy and numbs my mouth; its sweetness is unbearable. I taste all of him, in copious amounts.

He dismounts me and laps the river of fire between my legs like a grateful kitten. His eyes are closed, yet the eyelids fluttering quickly. Finally he opens his eyes and throws me an amorous glance and cleans off my swollen vulva with gentle strokes. His tongue is pleasing and warm. I throw my arms over my head and breathe deeply. The smell of sex. I smile reverently and speak.

"God, I have missed you so much."

He smiles and crawls up beside me. Wrapping himself fully around me. Holding me tight. We both lay here, speechless, for an uncertain amount of time. A soft, gray light filters through the windows by the bed. Dawn. Then he stirs. He must shower and head home. Home to his wife. I lay in the bed. Embraced by his lingering scent. Our scents combined. I refuse the barrage of questions that try to make their way into my mind. I do not need answers for them. I know the answers already. I have known all along. They mean nothing to me now. My body ...it feels cleansed and broken. A new vessel. I move slightly, sensing the wetness all around me. He enters the room after his shower, cleansed and refreshed, fully clothed.

"It's okay. Baby, you're gonna' be fine. We will be fine." he assures me. Leaning down, he kisses the top of my head before turning to walk into the brightness behind him. I want him to look back but he does not. 

I pull the covers up around me as the door closes, curling up tighter, tighter, pushing my face into the pillow. I think that I wouldn't feel as bad if I knew the sensual side of his wife, the part of her I would never witness--but I feel worse now. 

The tears come, silent and sweet, along with the knowledge that I will always be second in the heart of the man I love.

Second Adventure With My Daughter



The next real chance I got to have sex with Karen was over the Christmas period. We had some quiet times together but they weren't very long, like the time Karen sucked me off in the car on her way to work. She asked me to park up in a side street close to the hotel as she wanted to chat. But I was surprised when, instead of chatting, she got my prick out of my trousers and started sucking it there and then in the car. I was that scared that someone might see I didn't last very long. But Karen had a wicked teasing manner and just before I started to cum, she took my prick out of her mouth and wanked me very fast aiming my prick at the steering wheel. I said "no Karen, use some tissues" but she kept going and my cum shot out and landed on the steering wheel, about 5 spurts landed altogether on the wheel and while I sat there regaining my senses of what had happened, Karen leant over, kissed me and said "thanks for the lift dad" then got out of the car and walked the rest of the way to the hotel.

Another time was when we were shopping, Karen kept bending over to look at items she had no interest in but in so doing Karen was displaying to me, and anyone else who cared to look, that she did not have any panties on. I had to stand close behind her so not to give anyone a free look at my daughters pussy. But in so doing Karen thought I was playing along as now she began grinding and wiggling her ass into my crotch every time I leant into her.

I was thankful that Susan had gone in front of us, as I didn't think I could have explained to her what was going on without it looking like I was some kind of pervert trying to dry hump his daughter. Though I'm sure the girl at the checkout must have guessed what had been going on because she kept glancing up at me and Karen then down towards the crotch of my trousers, which to my embarrassment showed the outline of my rock hard cock, then back up at me and smiling. I was very embarrassed but horny, this checkout girl looked only a few years older than Karen and here I stood in front of her with a hard on. Though in the car going back home Susan commented on how friendly the girl seemed and she teased me on when we were meeting up with her.

When we got home Karen went up to her room and left myself and Susan to put the shopping away. I was still horny from the games that had been played, so when I caught sight of Susan bending over to put some bleach away under the sink, I walked up and stood behind her and slid my hand up her skirt and along to her panties, when I found them I pushed them to one side and continued moving my hand until my fingers made contact with her pussy.

Susan gasped as my fingers made contact with her pussy, and then she turned her head toward me and said "I was right, that checkout girl did get you horny." By this time my hormones were in overdrive so I unzipped my trousers and pulled out my hard prick, I just needed to fuck someone so I pulled Susan up until she was leaning over the sink; I lifted her skirt over her waist, pulled her panties to one side, aimed my cock at her pussy and thrust into her.

Susan yelped at the sudden penetration as she was still quite dry down there, but I didn't care. I gripped hold of her waist with my hands and began fucking my wife as hard and fast as I was able to. I was so worked up that it only took a couple of minutes before I began cumming into Susan's pussy.

While we recovered from the unexpected quickie Susan said that "if shopping made me that horny we should do it together more often." It was a good job she didn't know what had caused me to be that horny.

On the Christmas Eve Susan and I had been invited out to attend a party put on by some of her work friends. Susan was dressed in a short skirt, loose blouse, stockings and ankle strap heels. The night was good but one thing stood out for me more than anything else.

It was seeing Susan dancing with, then kissing and groping with, a gorgeous looking young girl colleague. It was so erotic to see them feeling each other up on the dance floor. When we got home I was horny as hell and I wanted to know all the details of how and why also did she enjoy the groping. I got my answers in bed that night.

Susan was as horny as I was so we went straight up to our bed and had what I can only describe as the best sex we have had in ages.

Susan was so wet that I was able to penetrate her without any difficulty, we were so worked up that not long after I had started fucking Susan she started cumming, her pussy squeezing my prick as she orgasmed. This set me off and a couple of deep thrusts later I too was cumming. 5 or 6 spurts of warm cum shot out of my prick into Susan's warm pussy. 

After we had calmed down I asked Susan "what caused you to kiss and grope the girl colleague?" Susan told me that it had just happened when they were dancing, the girl, whose name is Emma, was laughing and playing about the kissing seemed to be the right thing to do, the groping just happened. Susan said "Emma was keen and made it clear that she was interested in playing." This surprised me as Susan had never said anything about that she had played with or shown any interest in playing with another female.

When I asked her had she done anything like this before Susan said "yes, the first time was while I was at boarding school, with a girl the same age as me. The next time was with a fellow student at college. We had a full year playing with each other. She taught me a lot of things, and seeing Emma made me remember Helen and I was strangely attracted to her and I wanted to know if the attraction was mutual, this was shown to me on the dance floor."

When Emma and Susan were kissing on the dance floor, Susan started sliding her hand across Emma's ass and Emma responded by moving her hand up Susan's skirt and rubbing Susan's panty-clad pussy. Then Emma slid two of her fingers under Susan's panties and into her pussy, Susan said that she responded by sliding her hand under Emma's skirt and found that Emma was not wearing any panties, so she slid a couple of fingers into Emma's pussy and the both of them fingered each other on the dance floor. Susan said that both she and Emma had orgasmed while out there on the dance floor.

All this had got me hard again so I rolled Susan on to her back and moved on top of her and eased my prick into her warm pussy. This time the fuck we had was slow and sensual. Each thrust I did was deep and slow prolonging the feelings I was having of my prick sliding in and out of Susan's hot and wet pussy. After about 20 minutes of slow fucking I was ready to cum again, I asked if Susan had any thoughts about doing something like that again, to which she replied "Emma and I have swapped numbers so you never know." On hearing this comment I got so excited that I quickly pulled out of her pussy, pushed myself up to a kneeling position just by her head and I quickly wanked myself to orgasm. It took only about 10 strokes then I shot cum onto Susan's face, 6 jets of cum splattered onto her face covering her eyes, nose and even landing on her chin. I then got her a towel to clean herself up with while I used the toilet. We then snuggled up and I fell into a deep but restful sleep.

Christmas day passed off quietly, Susan's gift was some outfits from Ann Summers, she got me a cheeky posing pouch and a couple of pair's of silk boxer shorts. We got Karen a package of driving lessons as she had always wanted to learn to drive but couldn't yet afford the cost of the lessons. I gave my personal present to Karen on Boxing Day.

We normally all went to Susan's parents on boxing day but this time, because Susan's dad had not been well, we had a family get together and we thought it was best that Susan went while Karen and I stayed home and did the tidying up.

So after lunch Susan drove off to her parents, Karen and I did the dishes and tidied up. Then it was time for me to give Karen my present.

I made a reason for going upstairs into my bedroom and then I called down to Karen to come up as I needed a hand getting some boxes down from on top of the wardrobe. When Karen entered the bedroom I handed her a box with a gift tag on it and said "Merry Christmas my special girl." When she opened the box and saw what was inside she whispered "thank you dad" and then hugged me and I saw that she had tears in her eyes. She asked if I would like her to put it on, to which I said "yes darling." Her present was a shiny red silk baby-doll nightie. Karen went into her own room to put it on, when she appeared back in my bedroom wearing just the baby-doll, I could not believe how beautiful and sexy she looked and I became very hard. Karen handed me a small box and said "open it dad" I found inside a bottle of cologne which was not my usual brand. Karen asked if I could only wear this one for her. I held out my hand to her and she grasped it and as I pulled her to me, our lips met in a loving kiss, our tongues dancing with each other. I gently pushed her onto the bed and as she laid there I quickly undressed and then got onto the bed with her, positioning myself so I could taste her pussy.

Karen must have been very turned on as her pussy was so wet and her clit was erect, I started tonguing her pussy with long slow strokes from the bottom and working my way up to her clit, each time I got to her clit I would tease it by gently flicking it then working my way back down her pussy probing my tongue deep inside her wetness. It didn't take too long for me to bring Karen to an explosive orgasm, her sweet juices covering my face as she gripped my head and held me tight against her pussy.

When Karen had calmed down I moved myself up and placed my hands just by her shoulders to support my weight, I then shifted my weight onto my left hand and with my right I felt down to hold my now very stiff and pre-cum leaking prick, then with a slow deliberate movement I eased my prick into Karen's very wet and hot pussy.

This time our fuck was slow, sensuous and loving, I wanted to savour each thrust in and every pull back out I made in Karen's pussy.

Very quickly Karen moved her legs so they were behind me holding me in place as we made love, not fucked, our mouths seeking out every recess of our faces and our tongue's lapping and licking everywhere our mouths went.

Soon after entering Karen I was penetrating her with my full length, and then pulling back until only the head stayed inside then thrusting deep into her. There were a few times when Karen winced as I bottomed out and I felt myself nudge something. I asked if she was o.k. Karen whispered "yes but please not as deep as you are hitting my cervix and it's a bit uncomfortable."

We made love for what seemed about ½ hr, when I started to get those I'm going to cum soon feelings so I quickened up my thrusts into Karen, about 5 more minutes went by and those feelings were now I'm ready to cum feelings, so I started fucking Karen hard and fast, each thrust going deep into her pussy, her face wincing as I bottomed out with every other thrust into her pussy. Then with a final few very fast deep thrusts and words of "I'm going to cum... I'm going to cum.... Here it is Karen, I'm cumming" my orgasm overtook me, my prick felt like it was exploding as jet after jet of cum spurted out and splattered against Karen's cervix. In all 8 jets of cum had spurted into Karen's pussy bathing its walls with my creamy liquid.

As we recovered we shared long kisses and as I held and cuddled Karen, I realised that we had now well and truly crossed that moral line and in by so doing we would now have to be very careful not to arouse suspicions about our relationship. I looked over to Karen and saw that she was dozing so I gently got off the bed and gathered up my clothes. I then nudged Karen awake so I could gently lift her up and carry her to her own room. I then freshened up and went downstairs, turned the TV on and waited for Susan to get back from her parents. 

Nothing of any real importance happened for the next few days but something happened on the 30th that got me very excited.

Susan and I were sat watching TV after finishing our evening meal when suddenly Susan's mobile rang; she went into the kitchen to have the conversation. When she came back, she was smiling and I asked her "what has made you so happy?" she told me that the call was from Emma and she wanted to know if we would like to join her and her boyfriend, Kevin, out on the town tomorrow night. Like a fool I did ask "what did you tell her?" Susan said "I told her no as we are stopping in... you idiot of course I said yes, it's all arranged we meet outside Bar Med about 8pm."

That night was another session of hot sex with Susan, which, at the end of our fuck we were totally exhausted but very happy.

When it was time for us to get ready to meet Emma and Kevin, I saw that Susan was going out wearing a short skirt, stockings and ankle strap heels, I asked "are you going to wear panties tonight?" Susan replied "no." This got me excited that I moved towards Susan and grabbed hold of her to pull her into the bedroom where I so wanted to fuck her as she was. Susan pulled away saying "we haven't got time... now finish getting ready; I need to use the loo before we go." Susan came out of the bathroom holding the bottle of cologne that Karen had bought me, she said "this is new, where did you get it?" I quickly said that "I bought it while out buying your gifts, I liked the smell but I wasn't sure if you would like it so I haven't worn it." Susan said "well I do like it, wear some tonight."

We met up with Emma and Kevin, both of them couldn't take their eyes off Susan, and we all had a really good time. We all danced together, then Susan and Kevin danced, while Emma and I danced, then Emma and Susan danced while Kevin and I went to the bar. At midnight Susan and I was together and Emma was with Kevin. Then I shared a long snog with Emma, our tongues flicking against each other, I looked to my left and saw that Kevin and Susan were kissing passionately, but I noticed that Kevin had his hand between Susan's legs and he was moving it up and down.

I whispered to Emma "would you and Kevin like to come back to our place as it's more private than here?" Emma replied huskily "mmmmmmmm yes sure let's go." So I moved over and nudged Susan to say "lets take them home," though I must admit I got a perverse thrill from seeing Kevin quickly take his hand from between Susan's legs and go very red trying to act as if nothing was going on.

On our way back home Susan and I agreed to go in through the back door which went into the kitchen rather than use the front door as we didn't want any nosy neighbours seeing.

So we quietly unlocked the door and went into the kitchen. We motioned for Emma and Kevin to be very still as Susan noticed light under the door connecting the kitchen to the lounge, this was wrong as we understood that Karen was staying the night at the hotel. So I quietly opened the connecting door and moved a few feet into the lounge, Susan had also moved and was stood beside me when I saw this.

Karen was obviously home, what was going on was the surprising bit.

Karen was knelt on the floor, leaning into the seat of our leather sofa, she still had her waitress uniform on but the skirt had been pushed over her waist and her panties were on the floor beside her. Behind Karen there was a young girl, naked from the waist down but wearing a strap-on, which from where we stood it looked like the strap-on had just entered Karen's pussy.

Susan gasped out loud and both Karen and the girl turned their heads and froze as they realised they now had an audience.

The sight of Karen and the girl, who we knew as Lisa, was a very powerful and erotic one. Susan just stood there so I quickly said to Karen "we have no problem with what you are doing, but please can you go up to your room to carry on as we have brought home some guests." Karen looked at her mum and saw that she was smiling so Karen said "come on Lisa lets go upstairs where we won't be disturbed anymore and leave mum and dad to play."

So while Susan went back into the kitchen to chat with Emma and Kevin, I held the door open for Karen and Lisa to go upstairs while blocking off any chance of them seeing who we had brought home. As Lisa walked past I couldn't help but notice how hot and sexy she looked, about 21, nearly as tall as myself, slim build with small tits and I could just see a bit of black pubic hair above the strap-on that she was still wearing. Lisa gave me a small peck on the cheek and said "goodnight" as she walked past. As Karen went to go past me I grabbed hold of her and gave her a snog, our tongues touching, and I let my hand wander down her side where I moved it across to fell her wet pussy. I slipped a finger in and gave her a couple of quick rubs before I slapped her ass and said "go on, quick upstairs and try not to make too much noise." Karen said "thanks dad" but then I saw that the smile had gone from her face as she moved in close to me and whispered "that's a nice smell dad, where did you get it?" and as she pulled away I thought I saw some tears in her eyes.

The rest of the night was a fun filled time with Emma and Kevin. I managed to cum twice, once into Emma's sexy mouth while she was being licked by Susan, who was in turn being fucked by Kevin. Then we switched and I got to fuck Emma, her pussy was hot and tight. We fucked doggy-style for about 5 minutes until I was ready to cum, then I pulled out and came all over her sexy ass cheeks. 

Emma and Kevin left after about 2 hours of fun so Susan and I went up to bed. Before joining Susan I checked on Karen and was excited to see that she and Lisa were in bed together. I walked over to the side where Karen was lying on her back and I started to feel horny again. So I slowly and gently knelt down and started to move my hand under the duvet and across her body to her pussy. When I reached her pussy I froze as my fingers touched some-ones hand. This hand grasped my fingers and guided them into Karen's pussy where they gently moved my fingers up and down along her still wet pussy. I stayed like this allowing my fingers to be guided for a couple of minutes, then I gently moved my hand away and stood up ready to leave the bedroom. As I did I noticed that the curtains were not fully closed and with the street light shinning in I could see that Lisa was awake and looking straight at me, she whispered "I know," smiled and then closed her eyes. I then realised that it was Lisa's hand that had held mine not Karen's like I thought. I joined Susan in bed but couldn't sleep as my mind kept going over the events of the night, first Karen's tears then Lisa's comment, and I knew now that things had gone out of control and I had some tough choices to make.



Second Amendment Gun Rights are Wrong



Lay down your weapons and pick up your water guns. Ready? Aim. Fire.

Under the second Amendment, the right to bear arms, one of the reasons given for owning a gun is because it's in our constitution. Yet, as if that's the limit to our constitution, I dare say that the 2nd amendment, for all the wrong reasons, is the one amendment most quoted behind the first amendment, freedom of speech. Taking only what applies to some citizens for their benefit, few even pay attention to the rest of the constitution or the rest of our rights.

Do we stand up for everyone's civil rights in the way we protest in the street when our president wants a law banning a citizen to own an assault rifle and a machine gun? Seriously. All of this gun debate is pure and utter nonsense. All of this gun control debate was preplanned and organized just for you to buy more guns.

Look at you. You all think you're so smart. After the Newtown tragedy, fearing that 'they'd' pass laws banning such guns, you all ran out and bought assault rifles, AK47's, and Bushmasters. Shame on you. Stupid idiots. You're all a bunch of suckers.

'They' think we're all stupid and you are stupid for falling for their plan. 'They' duped you. 'They' used you. 'They' want you to protest the ban on guns so that 'they' can sell more guns and it's working because of you. You all bought a record number of guns.

"Congratulations. You are all now armed and dangerous. Your mothers, wives, and daughters must be proud."

My opinion on the gun control issue is that no one should be allowed to own and/or carry a gun, other than a hunting rifle for the expressed purpose of using it hunt game and not for humans. If someone kills someone with a gun by accident or by hate, they go to jail. If someone commits a premeditated murder with a gun, they get the death penalty. An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth, isn't that the law that all of you gun owners understand?

Other than someone wearing a police uniform, a military uniform, or associated with one of our government security agencies, FBI, CIA, DEA, Treasury, Secret Service, and NSA, no one should own an assault rifle or a machine gun. Period. End of story.

* * * * *

Under my suggested plan, when a new baby is born, when someone gets their Social Security card, their driver's license, and/or their passport, they receive a water gun. Now beat it, scram, and get lost before I shoot you with my water gun. You'd better not piss me off or I'll fill you full of water.

Yes, water guns. Instead of guns shooting bullets, I say that all citizens should be armed with water guns of any color and any size. It's just as ridiculous, isn't it? Further, anyone caught with a gun that shoots anything but water will be water boarded by a Mini Cooper full of clowns before they go to jail. 

Huh? Water guns? Yeah, water guns. I love it. Everyone in America walking around carrying a water gun is safe from dying from a bullet, that is, until some psycho discovers that he can shoot gasoline from his water gun instead of water.

Hey buddy, got a light?

* * * * * 

I don't know if you noticed this on television but someone is trying to tell us something being that all of the media outlets are controlled by only five, rich, and powerful white men. Suddenly, all of Charlton Heston's movies, Ben-Hur, Planet of the Apes, and the Ten Commandments started playing with the advent of the discussion on gun control, in the way that they filled the airways with Ronald Regan Bedtime for Bonzo old movies when he was running for president. Maybe it's just a strange coincidence by I don't think so. If you gun owners want to rail about something, rail about how 5 men managed to buy all of our TV and radio stations, our newspapers, and our cable TV networks. We all read and watch the news that they want us to read and watch.

"It's not the gun, it's the person," said Charlton Heston, ex-NRA president. "I'll give you my gun when you pry it from my cold, dead hands."

Can't you just see Charlton holding up his rifle over his head. Only, it's not the rifle that we want to take away, it's the machine guns. Unfortunately, they did pry Charlton's gun from his cold, dead hands and it's too bad because he's going to need a gun where he went when he died. Then, again, something tells me that bullets won't harm the Devil.

"Shoot me again Charlton. The bullets tickle," said Satan.

Alas, in the way that our forefathers foolishly made the second amendment, if only God made an 11th commandment, Thou shall own an assault rifle, a Bushmaster, or an AK47, we wouldn't even be having this discussion, right Charlton, if the above was the 11th commandment? Now what the Hell kind of name is Charlton anyway? Is the reason why you armed yourself with so many weapons because the kids at school picked on you because of your sissy name? 

"We do not need guns and bombs to bring peace, we need love and compassion," said Mother Teresa.

Ah gees, another country heard from. What? I beg your pardon? Huh? And what I say to that is, what in the Hell does Mother Teresa know about love and compassion? C'mon, seriously, Mother Teresa? Are you kidding me?

Security! Who allowed Mother Teresa in the room for this discussion on gun control? Someone take her out back and shoot her. What? She's already dead? Gees, it's bad enough that I saw Charlton Heston's ghost but now I just saw Mother Teresa's ghost too.

In the name of the father...

* * * * *

"I keep hearing this fucking thing that guns don't kill people but people kill people. If that's the case, why do we give people guns when they go to war? Why not just send the people?" Ozzy Osbourne said that.

Out of the mouths of babes, huh? Wow, so very profound, I never knew he had that in him. Standing ovation. Standing ovation. Way to go Ozzy. This man fried his brain on drugs and he has one of the few quotes about gun control that makes any sense. So what does that tell you about your arguments over gun control? Go figure.

"As an unarmed man I have less chance of shooting myself if I don't own a gun," said Woody Allen.

Yeah, well, too busy with women a fifth of his age, we all know that 77-year-old Woody Allen's gun is in his pants and not in his pocket.

"Mo, Larry, the cheese," said Curly Howard about gun control.

He did. I swear to God he did. When those comments were made, they were aimed at firing a gun and not at fist fighting. Curly could take on anyone holding a gun on him, so long as he had the cheese, plastic explosives, that is.

"No gun has ever killed anyone but people have," said Wayne LaPierre current NRA president.

Twist, turn, and spin all your semantics as much as you want, Wayne, but all of us aren't as stupid as you hope we are for us to believe that crock of shit. Seriously, c'mon, doesn't Wayne LaPierre look a little like Hitler in training with that hair. All he needs is a little mustache, his hand held high, and a Nazi uniform. 

"Heil Hitler! Buy more guns! Heil Hitler! Buy more guns! Heil Hitler! Buy more guns!"

"Guns don't just jump off the wall and shoot you," said Sylvester Stallone as Rambo.

"I love my gun," said Bruce Willis of Die Hard and Pulp Fiction kissing his gun.

He takes his gun to bed with him at night and sleeps with it beneath his pillow.

"I need my gun for protection," said Oscar Pistorius, the Blade Runner after he pumped four 9mm rounds into the beautiful body of his dead ex-model girlfriend, Reeva Steenkamp.

We all know where having a gun got Oscar, a free pass to jail, do not pass go, and do not collect your two-hundred-dollars. I don't know but maybe it's just me, why would the Blade Runner, who's as fast a speeding bullet, according to Nike, need protection from a 120 pound supermodel named Reeva Steenkamp? Was he afraid of her? Couldn't he have just said no, I don't want to have sex with you anymore? Go have sex with someone else.

It seems such a waste to shoot a supermodel because he didn't want her anymore or because she didn't want him. Maybe he was angry with her because she had cheated on him or was dumping him, now that she had a reality TV show and was on her way to fame and fortune without him and his help. Maybe she made fun of his blades or his lack of feet. Maybe all of the above are the reasons why he shot her with his 9mm gun.

Only, actually, oops, my error. According to the skewed logic of the NRA, Wayne LaPierre, and many of their brainwashed members, as if it makes a difference, it's not the gun but the shooter who shot her. Oh, I get it, I think. Let's see if I have this right, the gun didn't shoot her, he did. Is that it? He pulled that damn trigger four times and not the gun. It's not the gun's fault, it's his fault. Now it makes sense, I think, not really and not at all.

Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam! Bad gun. Bad, bad gun, I mean, bad Oscar. Now look at what you did. Yet, in the heat of passion, if Oscar didn't have a gun that fired bullets but had a gun that fired water instead, she'd be alive, they would have ended their romantic relationship, and life continues. Oscar would still be running and Reeva would still be modeling and appearing on her reality TV show. Now it's all a mess.

* * * * *

"I have a love interest in everyone of my films: a gun," said Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Actually, truth be told, Arnold had a love interest with every woman he's ever met, including his housekeeper. I guess we all know where the Terminator stands on gun control. Too bad he wasn't firing blanks when he impregnated his big breasted housekeeper, Patty Baena.

No doubt, if Arnold had his way, we'd all be citizens of Germany and he'd be King, even though he's from Austria. Heil Hitler. The Third Reich got the last laugh when they sent him to us. Only in California, Ronnie Reagan and Jerry Brown country, could Arnold have been elected Governor.

Elbowing his way in with the Kennedy's, he was a man who aspired to be President of the United States. Fat chance Arnold. You weren't born in America and according to our constitution, you can't be our president. Sorry. I don't think you'll be back. Do us all a favor and don't come back again.

"I have a very strict gun control policy: if there's a gun around, I want to be in control of it," said Clint Eastwood when he was making Gran Torino.

Can't you just see dirty Harry wearing a big hat, smoking a stogie, and donning a Mexican poncho before shooting everyone?

"Gun control? We need bullet control! I think every bullet should cost 5,000 dollars. Because if a bullet cost five-thousand-dollars, we wouldn't have any innocent bystanders," said Chris Rock. 

"Ain't that the truth Chris. Ain't that the truth," I said to Chris. "Oh, by the way, you dropped your gun Chris."

"That ain't my gun. I don't own a gun," he said putting his hands up in the air as if he was under arrest while stepping away from the gun.

"I saw the gun drop from your pocket."

"Hey, I can afford five-thousand-dollars for a bullet. You're lucky I don't cap your white, round ass," said Chris picking up his gun and flashing it in my face. "Let me tell you something blondie, you got a gun, you don't have to work out," said Chris Rock.

"Hey, forget about working out, if you got a gun...you don't have to work. May I borrow your gun for a minute? I'll be right back with it."

"Yeah, sure, go ahead."

Susan walked outside to the nearest liquor store.

"Give me all the money in the draw and a bottle of your finest champagne."

Sadly, if Chris Rock wasn't so funny, I'd cry. As far as Clint Eastwood and Arnold go, both are pathetic, old men lost in a time when they looked better than they do now. They're still trying to act tough albeit with the help of the great equalizer, a gun. Unable to deal with aging, they buy guns, big guns, a .357 Magnum, the bigger the better. 

"Go ahead, make my day," said Dirty Harry practicing his quick draw while brandishing his gun in front of his bathroom mirror.

"I'll be back," said Arnold holding an entire array of automatic weapons.

Guns make men someone to fear. Men feel powerful when holding a gun, especially a big gun and especially a gun that shoots more bullets. Guns make men feel like a man, the man, the bad man, and the dangerous man. Besides, it's the bad men that kill and not the good guns. Guns are good. It's the men that are evil. It all makes sense to me now.

In essence, we need to get rid of all the bad men and just keep the good guns. Only, how do we know a bad man from a good man when they all have guns? If only we didn't have any guns. If only we just had water guns, cap pistols, and ray guns that just make noise instead of shooting bullets.

* * * * *

"What happened? You shot him," said a witness.

"No I didn't," said Wayne LaPierre, the shooter.

"Yes you did. I saw you shoot him with my own eyes," said the eye witness. "You pointed the gun at his head and pulled the trigger just because he disagreed with you about gun control."

"I didn't shoot the gun. My gun shot the gun. I'm Wayne LaPierre, President of the NRA."

"Huh? I'm confused with you singing a different tune to the same, old song. You always blamed the shooter before and not the gun but now that it's you shooting someone, it's the guns fault. I get it. No matter, I didn't know you were a card carrying member and the President of the NRA. Carry on then. You're free to shoot someone else, so long as it isn't me."

* * * * *

One would have to be as crazy as Lee Harvey Oswald and all of those other shooters who have pulled the triggers in 62 mass shootings since 1982 to understand that argument. It's not the gun doing all of the killing but the person. Just ask a postal worker for an explanation as to why he takes his gun to work.

The gun is not the problem, he is. Is that it? Is that you're argument? Is that your story and you're sticking with it? Then, why do we ban guns from airplanes? I don't know. If the argument doesn't make sense one way, it's not the gun, it's the man, it surely doesn't make sense the other way either, it's not the man, it's the gun. How about we just remove the gun from the equation and just banned those automatic weapons that are responsible for the deaths of innocent people.

* * * * *

"All you need for happiness is a good gun, a good horse, and a good wife," said Daniel Boone.

Hopefully not in that order Daniel. He said that before the invention of the automobile and the frequency of divorce. I can see Daniel Boone driving a Mustang instead of riding a horse. Nonetheless, I seriously doubt that Daniel Boone would have a Bushmaster to kill Bambi.

"Did you kill Bambi, Daniel?"

"Did I kill Bambi? I slaughtered the entire herd with my Bushmaster. There was blood everywhere. There's deer in pieces all over the place."

Wouldn't it be more challenging to hunt with a bow and arrow or even a slingshot instead of a gun? Imagine the satisfaction you'd receive when you finally hit your target.

* * * * *

"America must not ignore the threat gathering against us. Facing clear evidence of peril (he must have been referring to the Republican party), we cannot wait for the final proof, the smoking gun that could come in the form of a mushroom cloud," said George W. Bush.

My skin just crawled and I just threw up a little in my mouth. I need to shower after quoting George W. Bush. Typical of something he'd say, what in the Hell does what he said have to do with gun control? I have a feeling that George W ate a mushroom and has been in a drug dazed cloud ever since college for him to say something like that. He's only quoted here because he's the man with his hand out waiting for it to be greased after he didn't sign the ban on automatic weapons and allowed it to lapse after 10 years in force.

Thank you Mr. President. Now look at what you've done. Shame on you. The spilled blood is on your hands. Newtown, Connecticut is on your head. How dare you! I bet if a madman killed his children or the children of a Republican congressman, God forbid, we'd have a ban on automatic weapons signed, sealed, and delivered. I bet if a gunman killed Wayne LaPierre's family, God forbid, he'd be singing a different tune. He'd be demanding a ban on assault rifles and machine guns.

"Every study on crime and or firearms proves time and time again, that 99.99999% of American gun owners do not commit crimes or use our firearms in any dangerous or improper way," said Ted Nugent.

Wow! How does he know that? Ted Nugent must be wicked smart to know that. Huh? Not.

Whenever you want to twist the truth, with most people unable to compute anything more mathematically difficult than filling out a lottery ticket, throw in a statistic. Huh? Wait. What did he just say? Even a DNA test is not 99.99999% accurate. That's odd. I thought for sure that the statistic for gun owners not committing firearm crimes was 99.98%. Who knew? Go figure. Go smoke another joint Ted. Now sit down and be quiet because you don't know what the Hell you're talking about. Junkie.

* * * * *

"If we don't get gun-control laws in this country, we are full of beans. To have the National Rifle Association rule the United States is pathetic. And I agree with Mayor Michael Bloomberg: It's time to put up or shut up about gun control for both parties," said Harvey Weinstein, film producer and co-founder of Miramax Films.

"All you need for a movie is a gun and a girl," said Jean-Luc Godard, French-Swiss film director.

Seriously Harvey, are you kidding me? Kettle black. You're contradicting yourself just a little bit here. Just to name a few, Pulp Fiction, Kill Bill, Rambo, and Seal Team Six: Raid on Osama Bin Laden, I guess Harvey Weinstein didn't get the memo. I guess he doesn't watch the movies that he produces. If he did watch the violence caused by guns in his own movies and was serious about gun control more than giving it publicized lip service, he'd never make another movie with a gun in it.

* * * * *

"I think there ought (I don't like people who use the word ought, do you? They sound snobbish, as if they think they're smarter than me.) to be some serious discussion by smart people, really smart people about whether or not proliferation of things like The Smoking Gun and TMZ and YouTube and the whole celebrity culture is healthy," said Stephen King.

The only hole in your suggestion Stephen is where in the Hell do we find smart people, really smart people, surely not in Washington? We'd need to go where the gun manufacturers and the NRA went, a think tank in Cambridge, Massachusetts filled with Harvard and MIT graduates to come up with their spin strategy of semantics and scare tactics on using the second amendment to sell more guns. We need to do what 'they've' done in putting fears in everyone that the government is going to take all of their guns away from them, not just the assault rifles and machine guns that this discussion is really about.

* * * * *

"Every time you cut programs, you take away a person who has a vested interest in high taxes and you put him on the tax rolls and make him a taxpayer. A farmer on subsidies is a part welfare bum, whereas a free-market farmer is a small businessman with a gun," said Grover Norquist.

Who is this guy and how did he get so powerful for every Republican congressmen, congresswoman, and representative to sign his no new tax pledge? What in the Hell does Grover Norquist know about farming anyway or anything for that matter? I'll tell you. Nothing. I rest my case, as if I'm going to believe anything that Grover Norquist has to say.

* * * * *

"Words can carry all the caliber of knives and guns. Don't think they don't. Their usefulness or value depends upon the character of the user, the nature of the intention and the accuracy of the aim. Think before you speak and speak with a clear and honorable purpose. Be kind when you should be kind, and when you shouldn't be kind, be calm," said Evette Carter.




Second Amendment Gun Rights are Wrong



Being that I'm a writer, the above quotation makes sense to me. The pen is mightier than the sword type of thing. Yet what I write here now may get me shot.

Seriously, without a doubt, if my government wanted to do something about gun control, they would but they can't, which is why they don't? Do you know why they can't and why they don't? It's the same reason why they don't do anything about jobs and unemployment, about wars, about finding cures for diseases, and about guns. Come closer to the computer screen so that no one else can see. Ready?

There's no money in giving Americans jobs, just as there's no money in stopping wars, finding cures for diseases, and banning assault rifles and machine guns. Just as there's more money in filling prescriptions for pills instead of finding the cures for diseases, there's more money in passing out bullets than in banning the guns. We're all expendable. We're all their test bed. Think of all of us swimming around in a giant Petri dish while those in power analyze what we'd do for them to come up with their next move to keep us down, demoralized, disenfranchised, and poor. If you want to feel bad for anyone in our population, besides our children, feel bad for the police. Stopping a car for speeding could get them shot dead. The NRA's lies a personal detriment to their safety, every cop in America should be arresting Wayne LaPierre for spreading his nonsense about guns.

Besides, it's too late now to reverse all that's happened from the time when Nixon was romancing China to open their doors for free trade back in the 70's. Too many of our good, high paying with overtime and benefits, manufacturing jobs have already gone overseas to China, Japan, Taiwan, Bangladesh, Sri Lanka, Brazil, and a dozen other counties that many of us only heard of when reading our clothing labels. Big business managed to bust all the unions. Now the only jobs that are available are part-time, low paying, service jobs, and day labor type of jobs, with no benefits and no security. 

'They' all won and we all lost but don't fret. You still have you gun. If that's what you want to keep your gun, if that's the price you had to pay, you can find comfort in having an arsenal of guns. You just can't afford to pay all the licensing fees and to buy bullets, thank God, otherwise you, not your gun, would be out there shooting people because you're broke, unemployed, and angry. Make sense? Do you see where I'm going with this diatribe of an essay that's slanted against the NRA and all that's good instead of all that's bad? Only, I'm just warming up. 

* * * * *

Just as selling guns is big business, making war is even bigger business. Just ask Cheney and Bush who are responsible for murdering our sons and daughters. Cheney got a sweet deal, a no bid contract for Halliburton to supply our armies with all that they needed for the Iraq and Afghanistan Wars. Nice. Just ask a construction company owner how profitable no bid contracts are and he'll tell you after he returns from buying a new luxury car and a bigger house.

In this time of government wasteful spending and the Republicans beating up on President Obama because he's not holding the debt ceiling line, Bush and Cheney not only wasted trillions of dollars on wars they couldn't possibly win but also Bush gave Cheney a no bid contract. Do you understand what's happening here? While you're watching American Idol and are too busy to care, when GW was president, a Republican controlled house and congress pushed bill through that benefited the super rich while Bush rubber stamped them.

Going to war with Iraq was never about helping to save their people from a dictator. The war on Iraq was never about finding weapons of mass destruction. There were no weapons of mass destruction to find. No weapons of mass destruction were ever found on Iraqi soil, yet these two clowns, Bush and Cheney, are out and about and living the good life while the rest of us suffer. Tell me, why didn't we go to war with Syria in the way we did with Iraq? Because there was no money in it for us to war with Syria. Matter of fact, we'd lose money if we pissed off the Russians and the Chinese.

"Money, money, money, it's always about the money. It's not about my rights or your 2nd amendment rights. It's about the money, you dig? Money is what makes the world around. Money is what 'they' all have at the expense of you and what you don't have at the expense of them. Money, money, money."

Now, separating guns from money, my suggestion is that instead of allowing our citizens to have guns, we give them water guns. If you turn in your guns, you deny them from making more money off your backs. Seriously. That way, if we have any anger issues, we whip out our water pistol and shoot the offender right in the face. Go ahead, squirt her in the tits or squirt him in the nuts. Yeah, that's right, go ahead, make it look like he wet his pants.

"Take that, asshole!"

As far as I'm concerned the only people who should have guns are those in the Military, the Police, or the protectors of our government, FBI, CIA, DEA, Treasury, Secret Service, and NSA.

Now you have the right not to like my story, but if you give me a lousy vote, I'm going to squirt you with my water gun. And you'd had better vote and make a comment or your entire family will be squirted. Yeah!

"Take that!"

The End



Second Anniversary



\ As I sat on the bar stool waiting for my husband to show up I felt as if every eye in the cocktail lounge was upon me as I wore my present.

It was our second anniversary and my husband had surprised me that morning with two dozen red roses and a large wrapped box. Without waiting to brush my teeth I tore the wrapping paper off. Inside was what my husband referred to as "the outfit."

I didn't know what exactly to say as I held up the sheerest blouse I had ever seen in my life. "Don't worry. I bought you a bra to wear under it," he assured me. The bra turned out to be a lace chopper bra which was designed for display, not modesty. 

There was also a matching garter belt but no panties. 

Next I removed a spandex micro-mini skirt. It was so short I was certain it wouldn't cover my ass cheeks. 

I nervously looked in the box for the rest of my present and found a pair of FMs with 4" heels and a package of backseamed stockings. At the bottom of the box was a silk bolero jacket...everything was black.

"Where did he shop at, Sluts-R-us?" I thought.

"I bought you some make up to go with your new outfit." He handed me a bag containing a tube of blow job red lipstick, a matching bottle of nail polish, and enough blue eye make up for a cheerleading squad. 

Dying my shoulder length hair platinum blonde was my idea. 

So how did I end up in the lounge of a very expensive restaurant, dressed like a cheap street walker, surrounded by women in designer dresses and men in custom tailored suits? Simple. My husband held up two jewelry boxes and said, "If you wear the outfit tonight you earn the boxes." 

Rich had arranged for one of his co-workers to give him a ride in so we could drive home after our rendezvous in one car. That evening, just before he left work he called and instructed me to meet him in the cocktail lounge at six sharp. He assured me it was a dimly lit, romantic hideaway. Instead it was brighter than high noon and packed with predators in suits unwinding after work. 

I kept one hand on the back of my skirt when I walked into the bar to keep it from climbing too high on my ass and was extra careful when I sat on the chrome and leather bar stool. Within five minutes I had turned down half a dozen offers to buy me a drink...and a couple to rent me. The comments each rejected suitor made about the hooker with an attitude as they walked away were less than kind. 

It was now 6:20 and Rich still wasn't answering his cell phone. So there I sat, in a crowded bar, looking at my watch, getting angrier by the minute, and nursing my second vodka gimlet when a good looking man tapped me on the shoulder and said, "Excuse me. Is this seat taken?" I was going to tell him I was saving it for my husband but, because I was pissed at him for being so late, turned around and said, "No, please sit down."

"Hi, my name is Brian," he said shaking my hand.

"Hi, I'm Sarah." He gestured for the bartender to refill my drink and ordered a martini for himself. We continued talking until the drinks arrived. I kept turning around to look for Rich while Brian and I got better acquainted. He hung on my every word. 

We were finishing our second drink when I noticed how far my skirt had crept up. It seems each time I turned around it rode up a little higher. I blushed in embarrassment when I realized Brian was staring at my bare flesh showing above the stocking tops. When I tried to pull it down he placed his hands on my legs--barely below the skirt's hem--and said,"Please don't. You have magnificent legs."

I know I should have slapped him but, dressed like I barely was, I couldn't expect a man to treat me like a lady. "Thank you I stammered. But I really am waiting for my husband" 

Instead of moving his hands away, however, he began to play with the garters and said, "He's a very lucky man." I took a gulp of my drink.

"He's also very jealous." 

"Then you had better watch for him," he replied as he slipped both hands up my skirt. I panicked and tried to turn away but he anticipated my move. He quickly stood and forced his legs between my knees. He then turned away from the bar, spreading my legs wide and causing my skirt to bunch high around my waist. I was now fully exposed to Brian. The cold air hit my pussy and sent a shiver up my spine. He was staring at my freshly shaved pride and smiled. Another shiver went up my spine. 

I finished my drink in two swallows. Brian signaled the bartender, who had been keeping a close eye on us, to bring me another. He didn't talk for the longest time...he just kept staring. I made no attempt to cover myself. 

I noticed a man standing behind Brian elbow his friend and point to my immodesty. I tried to stare them down but they never looked at my heavily made up eyes. 

Finally I looked at my watch. It was 6:45. "Okay, pussy on parade time is over." I tried to close my legs. Brian didn't budge. "I'm serious," I protested, "My husband will be here any..." I didn't complete the sentence because he started brushing my pussy lips with his fingers. I could feel myself getting wet as he ran his fingers up and down. His touch was so light, so exciting. I closed my eyes and tried not to think about the leering men watching me act like a slut.

"He leaned forward to kiss me...I opened my mouth and sucked in his tongue. "You shouldn't have done that," I said before he kissed me again. He lifted me by the hem of my skirt and pulled it way up, exposing me to my waist. My naked ass was now on display to everyone behind me. 

"If you want me to stop all you have to do is say the word." But I couldn't speak...instead I leaned forward and kissed him. Someone behind me started playing with my ass. I grabbed Brian by the crotch and ran my fingers over his erection. My back door friend slid an ice cube up and down my ass crack. I hooked my heels onto the bar stool and leaned forward to give him easier access to my anus. I was soon rewarded with him slipping his finger in and out of me.

Brian looked over my shoulder and teased, "Is that any way for a lady to behave?" He stepped to the side so my shaved pussy was now on full display to the crowded bar. "Don't move," he commanded. 

After a couple of minutes of watching me flaunt my shaved pussy Brian turned and ordered two more drinks. I didn't even blink when two men walked up and took several pictures with their cell phones. 

Brian took his time finishing his drink before he returned his fingers to my aching pussy. "Please make me cum," I begged. I felt like a dog in heat...I was losing all control as he shoved a couple in and began playing with my clit. 

"Unbutton your jacket," he commanded. I complied allowing him, and the group of men who were watching, to view my breasts. The sheer blouse hid nothing and the chopper bra really accented my rock hard nipples. 

"Magnificent. Now take it off," he ordered.

I could not say no. I had it off in a second and was unbuttoning my blouse when I noticed in horror my husband making his way through the crowd. "Please, I begged. That's my husband."

He waited until the last possible second to remove his fingers from my pussy, then licked them as I struggled to compose myself. A couple of seconds later Rich walked up to me and planed a huge kiss on me. "I'm sorry. I smeared your lipstick." he said. "Is he blind I thought as I struggled in vain to cover my naked breasts with one hand and pull my skirt down with the other.

"I'm sorry I'm late. I hope you weren't bored." "No," I stammered. "Rich, I would like you to meet Brian. He kept me company." "Nice to meet you. How about I buy your new friend dinner for keeping my wife safe from lounge lizards?" I prayed he would say no. "Sure, I would love to."

I excused myself to go to the ladies room while Rich got us a table. When I came out--with my makeup restored to extreme slut and my very public private parts as covered as the outfit would allow--the hostess directed me to our booth. It was set against the back wall and as well lit as an airport runway. It also was set up for me to sit between the two men facing everyone else in the restaurant.

Rich gallantly slid out of the booth, stepped behind me and said, "It's warm in here so you won't need that." He grabbed the back of jacket and pulled hard...the single button offered little resistance as he tore my jacket off.

"I'll be right back," my husband said as he walked away (I later found out he locked it in my car's trunk). Brian looked like he was going to drool as my breasts were fully exposed to everyone. I quickly slid in the booth and buttoned my blouse all the way up in a futile attempt to hide my nakedness. His hand immediately reclaimed my pussy.

Brian waited until Rich was almost to the table before removing his fingers then offered a toast from the bottle of wine which he had ordered. "Happy anniversary to the happy couple--he stared at my breasts as he said it. As we clinked glasses Rich snatched the napkin which I had draped over my lap...there was nowhere to hide.

I will admit that wearing a see through blouse gets you better service. It seemed like every waiter and busboy hovered over our table. I blushed as red as the wine as they stared at my breasts.

Almost as if on cue Brian excused himself to go to the men's room. Rich wasted no time in slipping his hand behind me and pulling my skirt up so my naked ass was sitting on the cushion. Okay, just what the hell is going on here I thought. Rich usually goes nuts when a guy even looks at me and now he is practically stripping me in public.

He leaned over, unbuttoned my blouse, fondled my nipples, and said "Truth or dare." "What?" "Truth or dare. What were you and your new friend doing when I walked in." 

"Uh-oh. I thought. This is it...he's going to start a fight. I'll take dare." 

"I was so excited to see you that I dropped my cell somewhere in the bar. The dare is for you to walk to the bar and ask every man in it if they have found it." 

"Please, anything else I begged." 

"Okay, then stand up and take your blouse and skirt off. You're eating dinner naked." 

"Fine, I'll do it."

"And don't pull the skirt down. I want to enjoy the view."

I passed Brian as I walked across the crowded restaurant...he smiled and licked his lips. Everyone was pointing and staring at me. The black skirt and stockings really made my white ass show. It must have taken me fifteen minutes to work my way through the crowd in the bar--the women were staring daggers at me and calling me a slut. It was easy to spot the married men...they pretended not to look and agreed with their wives that I was a whore while the single guys didn't hesitate to openly molest me. I can't begin to count how many hands went up my skirt. I was so wet my pussy lips offered no resistance to their probing fingers. More than a few invited me into the men's room for a quick fuck. By the time I found the guy who found the phone my pussy was dripping on the floor. For his reward I let him suck on my nipples. 

When I returned to the table the men were carrying on like they were old friends. "I ordered a filet mignon for you," my husband said. "Oh, and by the way, Brian told me how you came on to him and let everyone in the bar watch as he played with your bald pussy. Did you come?" I turned bright red. "No, I said sheepishly." "Good than I have the second part of your dare." "What! I protested. You didn't say there was a second part." "Second anniversary-second dare", was his response. "I propose a contest to see who can make you come first...and the winner gets to fuck you first.

"No, anything else," I pleaded. "Okay, then get on your knees under the table and suck us both off."

What the hell. I don't know why but I stood up, pulled my skirt down, and kicked it across the floor. "I don't fucking believe I am doing this." I spread my legs as wide as they would go and said "gentlemen start your fingers." My pussy was so wet that it only took about minute for me to come. Rich declared the contest a tie.

I came so loud that the manager said he was enjoying the show but we would have to leave. 

And that's how I ended up breaking my marriage vow to forsake all others, twice, in the backseat of a total stranger's car while my husband watched. Rich insisted he go bareback so he could have a cream pie for dessert

Later that evening, after he had sloppy thirds and fourths, Rich admitted he had been hiding behind some people and watching me in the bar for over fifteen minutes before he "arrived." He said I had made his every fantasy come true.

PS. The diamond tennis bracelet and matching ring were spectacular.



Second Base



Second Base (Part One)

I was crushed when my High School coach moved me to second base my Junior year. All my life, I had been a slick fielding shortstop. I still dreamed that I would hit a growth spurt, fill out, and wind up the Cardinals shortstop, taking over for Ozzie Smith.

I think the coaching staff knew otherwise. Presciently, they predicted I was done growing and my future in baseball was at second base. Only 5'8", I just did not have the build of a shortstop. And, at 6'4", Brian Scroggins - also a Junior - was the heir apparent to Buddy Marks, a Senior and Captain of our team. I was a better fielder than Scrogs, but he was a way better hitter. And, he had the classic build that looked better coming off the bus.

Baseball was all I knew. My dad was a ballplayer, and it grieved him when I eschewed the first year of Little League to spend the summer with my older sister. She was 5 years older, and I loved being with her, whether it was playing school, dress up, house, or with her collection of Barbies and Kens. I was a "mama's boy" and a "sissy."

My dad had little use for me. I think I embarrassed him.

Over the following Winter, my sister got "boy crazy" and left her childish pursuit - including me - behind. I was alone in our basement.

I do not remember making any kind of grand decision, but I asked my dad that Spring to teach me to play baseball. Every day after work, he would take me to the tennis court down the block and pitch to me until dark. He'd throw a dozen balls, collect the ones I hit, and then do it again. 

My hands blistered. My dad's temper flared. He was a natural talent, so he did not understand the amount of time and the level of work it took me to learn that game. But, learn I did. 

My first Summer, I played right field and batted last. I hated it. I could have quit, but I had my dad's stubbornness. My worked through Fall, Winter, and Spring of that year. When we could not be outside, I ricocheted balls around our basement. The ruckus drove my mother to distraction, but we were on a mission. Baseball had opened the door to a relationship with my dad, and I craved the approval that showed in his eyes and on his face as I improved.

When my dad was not pitching to me, I was throwing a racquetball against the basement stairs or into a corner to make sure I got surprising bounces and developed my reflexes. By my second season of Little League, I batted first and played shortstop. I did both until my High School move to second base.

Our High School was a blue collar Catholic school in a blue collar Missouri town. It was built for 300 students, but white flight from St. Louis had doubled its student population. Unable to expand, the school had replaced the lockers both in the halls and in the locker rooms with half lockers. In the locker room, the Seniors got the top lockers, and the Juniors got the bottoms.

With my switch to second base, I moved to the locker below Adam Erdely, who we all called Ape (Adam's middle initial was Peter, so his initials were A.P.E.). Ape was a Senior, and he had started at second for the Varsity as a freshman and since. Ape was a farm boy, and he had the muscular build of someone who had baled and stacked hay from a young age. He was exactly 6 feet tall, had round shoulders and a thick chest, had a round butt from squatting, and had thick, muscled legs. He wore his baseball uniform tight, and he looked especially good in our white pants and jerseys.

Ape had to have some Italian or other dark ethnicity in him somewhere, as he had dark hair, dark eyes, and dark skin that looked even darker in our white uniforms. After switching lockers, I learned quickly that Ape's face, neck, and arms were significantly darker than the rest of him, as he had the stereotypical farmer's tan the comes from working the fields in long pants.

Like most of the rural kids, Ape paid little attention to his appearance. He did not comb his hair, much less style it. He wore simple clothes and simple shoes. 

Despite the neglect, Ape was obviously good looking. Like the other studs on our team, he should have been pulling a lot of snatch, especially from the underclass girls. But, he did not, because he hardly ever spoke. He had a lateral lisp, and he was so self-conscious about it that he refused to speak in class, spoke only when spoken to, and even then spoke in short, declarative sentences that he tried like hell to ensure included no S's. The "he don'ts" and "they ain'ts" he used to avoid S's made him sound dumber than shit.

The Seniors on the Varsity barely spoke to the Juniors. With Ape's stoicism, I knew he'd never talk to me.

After the switch, I spent the first week or so of practice standing behind Ape and watching how he played second. Because of Ape's nickname, the rest of the team called it "monkey see monkey do." The name stuck, and I became Monkey to the entire team.

By watching, I learned how to position myself for different kinds of hitters, the footwork needed for a smooth turn of a double-play, where to take the cut-off from right field, and when to back up the first baseman and the shortstop. I also learned that second base was not as involved as shortstop, especially on our team. With Marks' talent, the staff wanted the ball in his hand whenever possible. So, the second baseman covered second and took the cutoff only when the shortstop could not.

Our high school did not have a baseball field on site, so we practiced at a park two miles away. The staff made us run to practice, and the Seniors made us carry their gear. So, they got to and from practice faster than we did. Since I was Ape's backup, I had to carry his gear.

By the time I got back to the locker room each day, Ape was showered and wrapped in a towel at our locker. Sometimes, he'd make room for me to get in my locker, get my shower stuff, and get out of his way. Other times, he wouldn't, and I'd have to squat down between him and the locker and dig my stuff out while he dried behind me.

Every Senior was like that. Invariably, one of them would grab the squatter's head, push his junk into the back of it, and moan, "Yeah, that right's, suck that big, fat dick" or something similarly sophomoric to draw a laugh. When they did, it would start a wave around the locker room, as the other Seniors joined in. 

When Ape did it, I learned two things. One, he never used the word "suck," substituting "take" instead (obviously, there was no "s" in "take"). Two, he had a big dick. It was one thing to see it through a towel or his white briefs. It was a whole other thing to feel it against the back of your head.

Sharing a locker with Ape, I also learned his nickname was a misnomer, at least as far as his hair coverage was concerned. Ape was not hairy at all. There was no hair on his chest or nipples, there was little hair on his arms and legs, and there was only a thin, slight trail from his navel into his towel.

*****

I had long known I was gay. I had always wanted to be the wife when my sister and I played house. When I learned to masturbate, I imagined I was the woman beneath the man. When I stole my dad's Playboy magazines, I looked at the few men pictured, not the women.

I had first had sex with a man the summer before, just after I turned 18 (I had missed second grade with the chicken pox, the measles, and the mumps, so I had to repeat it and was an old Junior). I went with my parents to Columbia for the statewide AA convention. My dad sponsored a 22-year old guy, Mark, who had spent 2 years in the state penitentiary for peddling drugs. Mark was hard looking, tattooed on each arm and leg and long-haired. Still, he was attractive, in a dirty way, and he was ripped with muscle from two years with nothing to do but lift weights.

I had known Mark for a year, and he'd always paid too much attention to me. At first, I thought it was because I was closer in age to him than the drunks with whom he went to regular meetings. One night in the Winter, I realized it was something more. Mark was at our house waiting for my dad to get home. He was in the living room, and I was in my room, doing school work and listening to music. He came to my room and stood at the door talking to me. I turned to my side and leaned on my elbow. As we talked, he moved into the room to the edge of my bed. He asked me to make room, so I sat up, and we leaned back against the wall. Maybe prison makes you bold. As we talked, Mark started to rub my crotch though my shorts. I was instantly hard. 

"It feels like a nice one," he said.

I said nothing, but he was right. I had a nice one. I was not big, but my dick was. Disproportionally so. And thick. It was hereditary. I had seen my dad's, and it was fat, even soft. 

"Can I see it?" he asked.

I was too scared to respond. Mark took my silence as invitation, and he pushed the band of my shorts down below my balls. He said "wow" as he started to jerk my dick. It was the first time anyone but me had touched it, and it took only a few strokes before I coated my shirt with a sizable load of teen cum. 

When we were in Columbia for the convention, Mark invited me for a late-night swim. I was conflicted. I wanted to know what it was like to touch another man's dick. But, I was also only 18 and scared to death of it.

I had my own room, so it was totally up to me. I did not have to sneak out, lie to my parents, or do anything else. 

I met Mark at the pool at 10. We swam for a little before Mark started pulling me close, putting his hands on me and grinding his crotch against me. When I tried to pull away, Mark held me tight. We were face to face. I could feel his hard dick against mine. When I tried again to pull away, Mark just held tight and whispered "shhhhh."

Mark lowered his mouth to mine and kissed me. I had never been kissed before. When Mark tried to open his mouth, I didn't know what to do. Mark guided me.

"Relax. Open your mouth. Run your tongue along mine."

I did as I was told. Mark's tongue plunged into my mouth, filling it. I kissed him back, relaxing into him. Mark pulled my legs around him, moved his left hand to my lower back, and his right hand to the back of my neck. We kissed for a long time. The depth and breadth of it overwhelmed me.

When the kiss finally broke, I suggested to Mark that we got to my room. 

"Aren't you staying with your parents?"

"No, I have my own room."

"Well, why didn't you say so?"

We climbed out of the pool, wrapped towels around ourselves, and scrambled to my room. As soon as we were in my room, Mark pinned to the door with another kiss. His hands went right to the string on my trunks, and he expertly undid the knot. Once he had, Mark moved his mouth to my neck, to my chest, to my nipples, and to my stomach. He tugged my shorts down over my raging boner. After I stepped out of them, Mark pushed me back against the door, held me still by my hips, and put his mouth around the head of my dick. 

Before I could think, Mark slid his mouth down the length of my dick until I was in the back of his throat. I had never gotten a blow job before, and I was not going to last long. As Mark worked my dick, I felt my balls clench and my orgasm start and then race up my shaft. I doubled over as I unloaded in Mark's mouth. He swallowed it all.

It was a long night. I had never had sex before, and I was eager to learn what to do, and how to do it. I sucked Mark's dick, which was smaller and thinner than mine. As I first took his dick into my mouth, I realized "it's just skin." I'm not sure what I thought it would be, but I had been browbeaten so hard into thinking a dick was a dirty tool, I'm sure I thought it would taste like sin.

I'm sure I was no good, but Mark came in my mouth anyway. It did not occur to me to swallow it, so I spit it in my hand and smeared it on the bedspread.

Mark flipped me on my back, pushed my legs up in the air, and started licking my ass, which I did not even know was a thing. I tensed up, fearing I was dirty and wondering about what was going on. 

Mark licked my taint and then took each of my balls in his mouth. He licked where my leg meets my crotch. He pressed my legs back farther and pushed his dick against my ass. He was over me.

He said, "Dude, relax. I want to eat your ass. You'll enjoy it, if you just relax."

He kissed and licked back down my body, took my dick in his mouth on the way, and returned to my asshole. He slathered me with his tongue. I focused on relaxing. I'm not sure I ever did, but I got closer. Once I did, I enjoyed Mark's tongue as he swirled it around. 

Mark lowered my legs and moved his mouth to my dick again. As he did, I felt a wet finger at my asshole. As Mark took the length of my dick in his mouth, he pressed his finger into my ass. I seized up, going rigid and arching my back.

"Stop it," I said. "I don't want you to do that." 

Mark pulled his finger out. "I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do."

"Good. I don't want to do that."

"Do you want to fuck me?" he asked.

"What?"

"Do you want to fuck me?" he asked again.

"I can try, if you want me to."

"I definitely want you to."

"Tell me what to do."

"It's easiest if I ride you," he said.

Mark took my dick in his mouth and soaked it with spit. After spitting in his hand and smearing it all over himself, Mark straddled me. He took my dick in his right hand, pressed his ass onto the head, and slowly lowered himself. When he was all the way down, I came. The warmth and the tightness was too much for my teen inexperience.

Mark was cool about it and said, "I thought that might be too much for you."

"I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about. We've got time."

Mark lowered his face to mine and kissed me. He soon covered me head to toe with his body, and I fell asleep with the weight of him on me.

When I woke up, I was hard behind him. I pressed my dick to his ass, and he woke up. He reached back, took my dick in his wet hand, and guided me to his asshole. I pressed in. Looking back, Mark had to be a total bottom, as I slid in easily. Mark adjusted us so that I was over him, his legs spread wide below me. I propped myself on my arms and started to fuck him. I'd like to say that I delivered a slow, mature stroke. But, I didn't. I delivered the furtive stroke of an 18 year old virgin, pounding into him and coming quickly.

When I was done, I collapsed onto Mark's back. He writhed under me, and I soon realized he was rubbing his hard dick against the bed, fucking it so to speak. He shuddered when he came.

*****

We slept late the next morning. I missed breakfast with my parents. Mark missed his meeting with my dad. 

The damage already done, we spent what was left of the morning getting each other off some more. 

After blowing me for the fifth or sixth time, Mark told me I had a really nice dick and told me he'd suck it whenever I wanted. By getting, I learned a lot about how to give a good blow job, when to speed up, when to slow down, when to introduce your hand, when to pull off and focus on the balls, and when to focus and bring it all home.

I fucked Mark one more time that morning, after he had blown me a couple of times. Tired, I was able to deliver more strokes than I had delivered the night before. When Mark came, he clenched his ass cheeks, which set me off. I needed work as a top. 

Mark asked to fuck me, and I said okay, as long as he wore a condom. I laid face down, and he took me slowly from behind. It was better than I expected.

We dressed in silence.

As he left, Mark kissed me hard on the mouth and then reminded me that I should not tell my parents. "No shit," I answered.

I had not wanted go to the stupid AA convention. I was 18, and I wanted to stay home alone. I'm glad my parents insisted otherwise. I'd have missed a lot.

Over the next month or so, Mark and I had a lot of sex. Mark had his own apartment, my parents did not keep good track of me, and so I was with him almost every day. But, Mark relapsed, and he disappeared from our lives altogether.

Second Base (Part Two)



Ape and I did not get along. I thought he was the past, and he knew I was the future. And, our season was a train wreck. Every worthy player but Ape got hurt, so our second string had to step up and play, which it was not ready to do. We were a small Catholic school in a conference of large public schools, and we lost regularly. Badly. Ape hated losing, and our regular beatings made him a dick. He also fretted that our Coach would look to the future and bench him in favor of me, and that made him more of a dick, especially toward me.

If our Coach had been strategic, he'd have taken that step. But, he was not. He favored tradition and seniority. So, I sat, and Ape played, to no point.

Ape paid little attention to me. When he did, it was malevolent. He seethed with anger and resentment. He was angry that we were bad, and he resented that I was knocking on the door.

We barely interacted. If he was at our locker, I avoided him. If I was at our locker, he was nowhere to be seen.

After our last conference game, Ape and I were responsible for cleaning up the locker room, a task that rotated position by position. Every team made districts, so our shitty season would extend for at least one more ass-kicking.



I was cleaning the showers when Ape walked in. 

"Are you about done, Monkey?"

"No, I'm not about done," I hissed. "But, feel free to leave. I can take care of the rest myself."

"Why do you have to be a dick all the time?" he asked.

"Me? A dick? That's ripe."

"Yeah, you. You've been gunning for my job all year."

"You're goddamn right I have. That's my job. You're the starter. I'm the back up. I'm supposed to push myself and, by pushing myself, push you. You're the bitch who plays scared."

"Fuck you, you faggot. Yep, faggot. I know you're looking at me when I put on my jock and when I towel off. And, I feel you looking at me when I take infield in front of you. You're a faggot, and I know you're a faggot, and you know you're a faggot, Faggot."

Not a single "s." It must have taken years of practice.

Ape was in my face. We both seethed with anger, a season of frustration boiling over in him, and the word "faggot" ringing in my ears. I wanted to punch him right in the face. 

But, I knew that, if I hit him, I was done with baseball at my high school. I was disciplined, and I showed my self control.

"You're delusional," I said. Then, I went for the jugular, mocking his lateral lisp. "I wouldn't schuck your dick if you begged me to on her handschk and kneesch."

Ape's face inflamed with rage. He surprised me by punching me, a right upper cut that hit me square in the gut, right under my rib cage. I doubled over, gasping for air. Ape then kneed me in the face, knocking me to the floor and bloodying my nose. Enraged, Ape stormed out of the shower. 

Ape had knocked the wind out of me, and I couldn't move. I stayed on the shower floor, trying to catch my breath and watching the blood from my nose run toward the drain. 

Before long, Ape returned to the shower. I will never condone violence, but I knew I was going to enrage him when I mocked the one thing about which he was most embarrassed and sensitive. I did not deserve to get punched, but I came as close as anyone does. Of course, he deserved to be punched for his repetitive "faggot."

I also knew that, fundamentally, Ape was a good guy. He was not a traditional jock, and he was not a hater. He had pushed me, and I had pushed him back. Too hard. 

Ape helped me up. He had got me good, right in my diaphragm. I could not take a deep breath. Or stand fully upright. And, I was still bleeding from my nose.

He helped me to the bench in the shower. I remained doubled over.

"Stand up," he said. "I'll help you get undressed."




Second Base



I stood up. Ape pulled my shirt over my head, pulled my shorts down and off, and handed me a towel so I could take off my jock in private. He then walked me back to the shower. I remained doubled over, my air still shallow and my stomach still in knots. I dripped blood from my nose as I walked.

Ape turned on the shower and took my towel, leaving me naked to bathe myself. I leaned my hands against the wall, the water running over my back and my head. I was still struggling to catch my breath. I was perfectly still.

I was surprised to feel a hand on my back. Ape had a washcloth, and he started washing my back. I stayed still as Ape washed my back, my ass, and the backs of my legs. 

"Turn around," he said.

I did as I was told.

"Can you stand up straight?"

I tried. I stood up straighter, not straight. Ape put his hands on my shoulders and looked me straight in the eyes. "I apologize for hitting you. Really. And for that word. I've been mocked my whole life. I ought not mock other people." Again, not a single S.

I knew he was sincere. "Thank you," I said. "Apology accepted. And, I'm sorry for mocking you . . . for being so cruel."

Ape put his hand on my shoulder and started to wash my chest and stomach. I had never been washed before, and I got hard. My dick stood out and up.

Ape did not flinch. He handed me the washcloth so I could wash my dick and balls. Then, he squatted down to wash my legs and feet. My dick remained hard and was in his face. He didn't look at it, but he also didn't march off in disgust.

"Sorry about that," I said. 

"No biggie," he said, catching himself and laughing at his place on words. "Actually, you're kind of a biggie," he corrected himself, draping the washcloth over my hard on.

Ape left and returned with a towel. He wrapped it around me and walked me to our locker. As I stood there, Ape started to dry me me. When I tried to do it myself, he rejected my attempt. When he got to my crotch, he handed me the towel. I was still hard as a rock. I apologized again. He just smiled at me.

"Am I right? Are you gay?"

I had never acknowledged it to anyone before. I did not think I should start with Abe.

"I don't think that's any of your business."

"You know that mean's 'yes', right?" 

I took note. S's. For maybe the first time with me. I thought Ape flinched a little as they came out.

"How so?" I asked.

"It's one of those questions, like 'did you fuck her'? There are only two answers, 'no' and anything else. Anything but 'no' means 'yes.'"

I looked directly at Ape. "It's none of your business," I said, acknowledging he was right.

The room was suddenly fraught. We were face to face. I was wearing only a towel, and I was obviously aroused beneath it. Ape was wearing a grey t-shirt and shorts, both soaked from helping me shower.

For the first time, I noticed that he was aroused, too. He was straining against his jock and his shorts, tenting both.

"You're clothes are wet."

"I know."

Ape reached up to my face, and brushed his thumb under my nose. I felt a jolt when he did.

"Your nose is still bleeding a little," he explained. "You should tilt year head back."

I did as I was told. As I stared at the ceiling, Ape said "Again, I apologize . . . . And, you're right. It's none of my business."

I didn't say anything. I wanted to, but I did not know what. Finally, I settled on "You're the first person I've told."



"Told what? You didn't tell me anything."

"According to you, I did."

"You didn't. You didn't tell me anything."

"It's okay, Ape. I don't mind you knowing. Everyone is going to know eventually."

"Not from me, they won't. You didn't tell me anything."

I understood what Ape was saying. My secret was safe with him, and - if he had to - he planned to plead ignorance.

I lowered my head and looked Ape directly in eyes. We were face to face, and the suggestion of more surrounded us. It was getting late. It was past time to go. "You should get out of those wet clothes."

"I know."

Without breaking eye contact, Ape pulled his wet shirt up and over his head. He then tugged his shorts down and stepped out of them. 

I looked down his gorgeous body. He had a lot to be proud of. 

I pulled the towel from around my waist and dabbed at the dampness on his chest. He twitched as I did.

I lowered myself and dried his legs. His dick strained against his jock right in front of my face. I wanted to bury my face in it, but I knew better.

I stood back up, wrapped the towel around Ape's waist so he could take off his jock in private, and turned from him to my locker. I was surprised to be pulled into an embrace from behind. Ape pressed his jock against me as we both held our breath.

Ape finally released me, apologizing again for being a dick and for getting violent. I, too, apologized again. I did not turn around, knowing I would try to kiss him if I did.

We dressed and left in silence. I do not know what Ape thought as he laid in bed that night, but I thought about him, the evening, and whether I'd missed a chance.

Second Base (Part Three)

When I opened my locker before our next practice, there was a folded piece of paper on top of my stuff. Unfolded, it said simply, "My name is Adam." Ape - Adam - must have slipped it through the vent in my locker at some point after our "fight."

I dressed, grabbed my equipment, grabbed Adam's equipment, and jogged to the park. When I arrived, Adam was already there stretching. I strolled over to stretch beside him. He did not look at me, so I interrupted his stretch. "Hey Adam." He did not say a word, but I saw him smile.

When it was time for infield practice, our Coach called me out to take infield with the first team. I immediately looked toward Adam, to gauge his response. He just shrugged his shoulders and stood down. As we drilled, Adam offered encouragement and pointers from behind. I knew how to play second, and I had to calm myself to avoid getting defensive.

After practice, I beelined to our Coach's office. 

"Hey, Coach, can I have a word?"

"Sure."

"What's going on at second base?"

"Ask Ape. It was his idea."

"What do you mean?"

"He came to see me this morning, pointed out that the season is lost, and suggested some District experience could help you next year, when he's gone and you're at second. When I told him I wanted to honor his Senior status and the commitment he had shown and the sacrifices he had made, he told he wanted what was best for the team, not him, and that was you getting first team experience. Starting today. So, there it is."

I was stunned. It was 180 degrees from our encounter in the shower. When I got back to my locker, Adam and his stuff were gone. 

*****



I decided to drive out to Adam's to thank him. It was the least I could do, especially since I viewed his "My name is Adam" note as both a peace offering and a slight window into him. He either didn't like being called Ape, or he didn't want me calling him that. I wanted to find out which.

The drive to the Erdely's took about 20 minutes, most of it on a 2 lane country road of "killer curves" (they were sharp, and too many teens had taken them too fast over the years, giving them their name). Everyone in our school knew the way, as the regular Friday night beer and pot and, if you were lucky, sex spot was at the end of a gravel road about 3 miles past the Erdely's.

I had never seen the Erdely house, as it was about a mile off the road, in the back of their property. A large, black lab met me about halfway down their "driveway" and barked constantly, presumably to herald the arrival of a guest. I slid my car into park, but stayed in my car, as "Blackie" (I later learned) continued to bark and growl at my door.

A voice barked "Blackie, sit," and the dog immediately obeyed. A "Blackie, come" freed me, as the dog heeled and bolted toward the Erdely's back porch. I exited the car, and turned toward the voice. It had come from a miniature Adam, standing on the back porch in jeans and a black tank top.

"Hey, I'm here for Adam. I go to school with him."

Mini-Adam pointed over my shoulder. "He's in his room, above the garage."

I turned and walked about fifty yards toward the Erdely's detached garage. As I climbed the stairs to the coach house, I was surprised to hear the Cure (what farm boy knew of the Cure, much less listened to them) blaring and to smell pot. The music was so loud, Adam did not hear me knock. I tried the knob, but the door was locked. So, I banged on the frame of the door with my closed fist as loudly as I could. The music went down, and Adam peeked out from around the blinds that covered the windows on the door. When he saw me, he smiled, held up a finger, and let the blinds fall back into place. 

About 30 seconds later, Adam unlocked and opened the door, wearing gym shorts and a tattered Cardinals t-shirt. "Apology," he said," I had to cover up." Again, no S's, which was, when I thought about it, amazing. It seemed almost impossible that he could speak without thinking and rarely, if ever, betray his lateral lisp.

I stepped into Adam's "room," which was really a fully furnished studio apartment. My envy must have been evident.

"My mom and dad built it for my grandfather. He can't handle the climb up anymore. A little over a year ago, he moved into my room in the main, and I moved out here."

"It's awesome."

"Yep."

"You know, you can smell the pot outside."

"Yeah. Mom and dad are cool with it. They did it when they were my age. I can't in the main. Or around my brother, Aiden."

"He looks just like you."

"Powerful Erdely gene pool."

"Do you have to think about it?"

"About what?" 

"Talking without using S's."

Adam bristled and went crimson. I saw the same anger flash across his face that I had seen when I mocked him in the shower.

"Why are you here?" he asked, pointedly.

"Look, Adam, I'm sorry I brought it up. But, it's amazing to me, what you do. It must be hard as hell."

"Not really. I've been doing it my whole life."

"You don't have to. Around me, that is."

"I can't not. I don't even think about it anymore. I just do it." There it was, an S. Again, I thought Adam flinched when it snuck out.

I walked over to him. "I'm here to thank you. Coach told me what you did. It's totally not necessary, but it was a cool move."

"It ain't a big deal. I know I'm about done with ball. And, now I can get high if I want, without worrying about getting kicked off the team if I get caught." He emphasized the point by taking a long hit off the joint he was smoking when I arrived. He hesitated, then offered the joint to me.

I was by no means a pot-head, but I liked to get high. I took the joint, and took a long hit and held it for as long as I could before letting the smoke slowly drift out of my lungs.

"Would you like a drink?" Adam asked.

"Sure. Do you have a Coke, heavy not diet?"

"In the main. I'll be right back."

While Adam was gone, I finished the joint and looked around his room. His walls were covered with an odd mixture of sports and music posters. The sports posters were all action shots. 

The music posters were eclectic. Dean Martin. The Cure. U2. 

Mostly, though, I noticed the books. They were everywhere. There was no fiction, just facts. Adam was clearly smarter than he sounded. Or let on.

Adam returned with a Coke. And, two beers. He offered either. I took the beer.

"I finished the joint," I admitted.

"Don't worry. I have plenty more."

"Hey, why don't you want me to call you Ape? Everyone else does."

"I'd prefer they didn't. I'm not a neanderthal. And, I know it ain't part of it, but I can't help but attribute the same a little bit to my lisp." Another slight flinch.

"I like it," I said.

"What?"

"Your lisp. I think it's sexy."

Adam looked into me. "You're a fool," he said.

Before I could respond, Adam headed back out the door. While he was gone, I finally sat down, settling back into a big, overstuffed chair.

Adam returned with a six pack. To my raised eyebrows, he responded with, "My mom and dad are gone, ain't no one to watch or care."

He tossed me a beer, rolled another joint, and laid back into the futon. We passed the joint back and forth, drank the six pack, and talked. As we did, I noticed more and more S's make their way into Adam's words. The "don'ts" and "ain'ts" became "doesn'ts" and "isn'ts." And, the flinching stopped.

Adam hardly ever talked, but once he got started, it was a flood of information. He had never had a girlfriend, but he and the neighbor girl were fuck buddies. She was headed over later to get laid.

His brother was 4 years younger and did not have a lateral lisp, which pissed Adam off. Worse, he knew Adam hated his, and used it to his advantage whenever he needed to. So, they were not close. Adam pretty much hated him.

His parents were liberal, agnostic, and permissive. They wanted to allow their sons to find their own way, mature through trial and error and learning from mistakes. They sent their sons to Catholic school only for the education; they coached them throughout to be anti-religious and to ignore the dogma. When they found out Adam was fucking the neighbor girl, they told him not to get her pregnant. Two days later, there was a drug store bag full of condoms at the top of his steps.

As Adam talked, we drank and smoked. I had barely noticed that Adam had popped a pizza into the oven, we had eaten it, and it was getting dark. I needed to get home. But, I was a little drunk and a lot high. It would be dumb for me to try to drive, especially through the killer curves.

Adam read my mind. "You oughta bunk here tonight."

"I can't. It's a school night, my parents don't know who you are, and I can't tell them I'm drunk and high. My parents aren't like yours."

"Well, wouldn't they rather hear that than that you drove drunk and high."

"Probably. But, you also have a booty call."

"Tell your mom and dad I'm dumb, you were helping me with a paper, time got away, and you're going to be safe and drive home in the morning when you're not tired. They'll eat that up. As for the booty call, there are two options. You can join in. Or, I'll cancel."

"I can't join in."

"Why not?"

"You know already."

I expected Adam to change his mind and force me to have one of my parents retrieve me. He didn't. Instead, he picked up his phone, pulled out his shorts, and snapped a picture of his junk. Then, he texted the picture to the neighbor girl, including "sorry, I'm drunk and high and have a buddy staying over, so this'll have to do for tonight" message.

I called my parents. He was right. They ate the "safe" thing up and thanked me for being so responsible. When I got off the phone, Adam tossed me a pair of shorts. When I was in the bathroom changing, Adam rolled another joint. I joined him on the futon, and we passed it back and forth between us silently as we watched a re-run of Third Rock From The Sun. 

As we started to settle down, it dawned on me that there was no bed in Adam's room.

"Where do you sleep?"

"Here. But, it'll fold out into a bed big enough for two."

We converted the futon into a bed. Adam slipped a sheet over the mattress and tossed a thin blanket onto the bed. Then, he pulled his shirt over his head, slipped his gym shorts off, and walked away to the bathroom. I get horny when I get high, and his round muscled ass was quite a sight.

The sight of him returning was even better. He filled out his briefs nicely, and I could see the outline of his dick as he walked. "There's a new toothbrush for you on the counter." I barely heard him.

I moved quickly to the bathroom. I did not want Adam to see that I was hard. After brushing my teeth, I jacked off into his sink as fast as I could. I left his shorts on the floor and hustled to bed in just my briefs.

"You were in there long enough."

"I had some business to attend to."

"Me, too," Adam said, tossing a shirt to the floor and reaching down and pulling his briefs back up. Apparently, he had jacked off in bed while I had jacked off in the bathroom.

Sleep did not come quickly for me. I was still too high, and I could not stop thinking about Adam, in only his underwear, within arm's reach. I was actively fighting the urge to reach over and touch him. I wondered if he was asleep.

He was not, as he offered "If I tell you a thing, do you blood oath you won't laugh."

"Sure."

"I've never had a friend overnight before."

"Really? Why not?"

"We live way out here, and I thought that, if a friend overnighted, I'd have to talk, I wouldn't be able to avoid S's, and he'd end up making fun of me."

I thought Adam was way too sensitive about his lateral lisp. But, I also knew that kids, especially little kids, could be cruel as shit. 

"I'm glad I'm your first," I said. I had no idea how right I was.

Second Base (Part Four)

We continued to toss and turn. Finally, Adam mumbled "I can't fall off in underwear" and pulled his briefs off. He looked toward me. "They're too tight. I can't fall off all bunched up. I never wear anything to bed."

I didn't buy the story. There'd been too much tension between us. He had washed me. I had gotten him hard toweling him off. Now, we were in bed together, and he was nude. He had to be curious. No straight guy, no matter how cool he was or thought he was, would force this situation.

I decided to lay and wait. It only took about 5 minutes for the ice to start to crack.

"I bet a guy's better at head than a girl."

"I wouldn't know," I said. "I've never had my dick in a girl's mouth."

"Have you gotten head from a guy?"

"Sure."

"Who?"

"No one you know."

"I know a lot of people."

"A guy my dad was trying to help. He was trying to get sober. He failed. He's gone now. But, he blew me before he left. A bunch."

"Wow. Are you the only gay guy at High?"

"I doubt it. But, I'm the only one I know of."

"Me, too."

The silence returned. It was not long before the ice cracked further.

"I could tell you," he said.

"Tell me what?"

"If you're better than a girl."

I decided to quit pussyfooting around. "Adam, if you want me to suck your dick, just say so. I'll do it."

"I definitely don't want you to," he said, hitting the "want." "But, I'm willing to let you, if you want to know how you compare."

"You're such a liar. You want me to," I responded, also hitting the "want." "I'll do it, but you're going to have to admit you want me to."

"I'm not gay."

"I didn't say you were."

"You can't tell anyone." Bingo. Admission coming.

"I would never do that to you."

"Okay, I want you to do it, but only on account of being really high.'' That was good enough for me.

I climbed off the futon, and pulled the covers down, exposing Adam's nudity from head to toe.

"You're beautiful," I said.

"You're not bad, either," he responded. 

I climbed between his legs and went straight for his dick. It had felt big against the back of my head, and it was. 

I took the head into my mouth and started circling it with my tongue, paying special attention to the underside. Adam squirmed as I did. 

I slowly took him down to the base. As I breathed in the smell of his sweaty bush, I heard an "oh my god" and felt Adam's meaty hands in my hair. I gave him 5 or 6 long strokes and then pulled off. I licked down to the base of his dick, and then took each of balls in my mouth.

"Careful," he said, "They're really tender."

I carefully licked each one, moved to where his legs meet his groin, then followed his treasure trail up from his bush to his navel. I kissed his stomach and sides and then moved to his muscled chest. His nipples were hard as I sucked them. He gasped as I sucked the left one.

"Dude, it's like there's a direct line from that nipple to my dick. That feels awesome." More S's. No flinching.




Second Base



I redoubled my efforts, adding some nibbling and some gentle biting.

"If you keep that up, I'm going to blow just from that."

I definitely did not want that. I moved back to Adam's dick and set to work. Each time I felt him tense up, I slowed down and backed him off. I was being evaluated, and there was no way I was going to lose to a girl. I plotted how to cinch the deal.

When I was ready to let Adam come, I maneuvered him around so he was kneeling over me and could really fuck my face. My hands on his ass, I controlled the depth and speed of his thrusts. I quickly had us in perfect rhythm. I felt Adam's balls clench and his dick swell.

He announced, "Dude, I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come." It was late notice, as I felt the first jet of cum hit the back of my throat with the second "I'm gonna come." I didn't care. I was a swallower. Everyone should be. You shouldn't take someone to the edge and then not let him jump.

Adam kept pumping and coming in my mouth. It was too much for me, and I came in my briefs, twitching as I did.

I did not want Adam to pull his dick out of my mouth, but I knew he could not take much more. I sucked all I could out of him and then swallowed him again to the base. Adam was doubled over me, his chest and stomach wrapped around my head.

"Dude," he said, "I gotta lay down."

I slowly pulled my mouth off his softening dick. Adam sat back on my crotch and lowered his head to the side of mine. I wanted to kiss him, but I wasn't sure that was in the cards for tonight (or any night for that matter). I did, however, wrap my arms around him, and pull him into me. When I relaxed the pressure, he lolled off of me, rolled onto his back, and ran his hands through my hair. 

"So, how was it?" I asked.

"Oh my god. You have no idea. Well, you do. But, that blew my mind. I had no idea it could be that good."

"I take it that means I compare favorably."

"Ain't even an argument."

"Good," I said. "But, that was not my best effort, so you know. I started you off easy."

"It can be better?"

"Sure."

"I can't wait to find out how."

I was relieved. I was afraid this would be a one-shot thing, no pun intended. It now looked like it might not be.

*****

When I awoke, light was streaming into the room, and Adam was nowhere to be found. I took off my sticky briefs, washed my junk, brushed my teeth, and readied to leave. As I turned the doorknob, I noticed a post-it stuck to the window. It said simply, "Thank you, Adam." As if I wouldn't know he wrote the note if he hadn't signed it.

I spent my drive back into town wondering what was next. I was 18, and love - or the illusion of love - comes easily at that age. It would not take much for me to fall in love with Adam. He was hot, smart, and, because of his speech impediment, vulnerable.

It would also not take much for me to be hurt by Adam. He could ruin me at school, graduate, and not in any way have to deal with the backlash.

He could also use me and then discard me. 

I didn't think he would do either, as it seemed contrary to his nature. And, it also seemed, to me at least, that we had developed a genuine friendship since the shower incident.

But, it would not surprise me if he had spent a sleepless night regretting what had happened, had blamed it on the beer or the pot, and had resolved it would never happen again. I figured I'd find out soon enough, as there was a team meeting before school that morning.

We always sat by position in team meetings so coach was looking at his defense as he talked. Today, Adam didn't, instead standing in the back with the reserves who had no real position. He bolted as soon as the meeting was over, and I didn't see him the rest of the day.

When I got to the locker room after school, he had already dressed and left for practice, leaving his bag behind. On it, there was a note, "You may be starting, but you're still carrying my shit." I toted it to practice.

When I got to the park, I walked straight to Adam. "Hey, Adam," I said.

"It's Ape," he responded. 

I was surprised. He was the one who had insisted I call him Adam in the first place.

The rest of the practice, Adam mocked me and picked apart every mistake I made. I was getting angrier and angrier, believing he was picking at me to relieve his guilt about what had happened the night before. When practice was over, coach told me to stay behind and work one-on-one with Adam on double play footwork. He stayed on me throughout the drills. By the time we were finished, I was mentally and physically beaten. I just wanted to shower and go home. I was sure Adam would drive me back to school, and pissed when he refused, insisting that I run back, with his gear. I cried as I ran, partly out of anger and partly out of frustration.

The locker room was dark by the time I got back. I dropped Adam's shit, stripped, and headed to the whirlpool. I turned up the heat, climbed in, and hoped the jets would whip the soreness out of my muscles. 

I almost died of fright when I felt hands on my shoulders. I did jump forward, stand up, and turn around ready to fight. I was surprised to see Adam, who seemed equally surprised by my reaction.



"Jesus, dude, what the fuck?" I asked. 

"I waited for you."

"Why, so you can bust my ass some more?"

"No, I wanted to be with you."

"I'm a little lost here, Adam. You tell me to call you Adam and, when I do, you correct me to Ape. You bust my balls throughout practice. Then, you force me to run back with your junk instead of giving me a ride."

"I realized you gotta call me Ape in front of the team. If not, they'll wonder why not. I can't go light on you in front of the team. If I do, they'll wonder why. And, you had to run back, according to the rule. And, it meant the locker room would be empty, but for me, when you got back." 

As Adam talked, his eyes took in my naked body. I grabbed a towel and covered up.

"You oughta keep pooling."

I wanted to get out, but he was right. I needed to soak some more. I settled back down.

Adam returned his hands to my shoulders. As he did, he pressed he hardening bulge to the back of my head. He moved his hands to my neck and then to my face. He gently massaged my forehead, my temples, my cheeks and nose, and then my eyes. It was simultaneously relaxing and arousing. I snapped to.

"Hand me a towel. I want to get out and get showered."

"You don't need a towel," Adam said, as he helped pull me out of the whirlpool. We walked through the dark locker room to the showers. 

I got under the water, closed my eyes, and started shampooing my hair. I was startled again by Adam's hands, this time reaching around from behind and soaping my chest and stomach. As he did, he pressed his naked chest to my back and his hard dick to my ass. He was naked, too. I let my weight fall back into him and the water pour over me. 

"What're you doing?" I asked, as Adam moved his hands to my groin.

"Cleaning you," he said, taking my thickening dick in his hand and sliding his between my legs behind my balls. 

I was tired, but I could not help responding to his strong hand on my dick and his hard dick sliding between my legs. "Do you like that?" Adam whispered in my ear.

"Yeah, I'm gonna come if you don't stop."

"I want you to come," he whispered. "I owe you one." Adam apparently did not know that blowing him got me so hot I had spontaneously filled my briefs from it.

Adam's hot breath in my ear was too much. I twitched and sprayed my first jet onto the shower wall. Two more followed. Adam grunted, and I realized he was coming, too. I clenched my thighs around him as I finished spilling my cum on the shower floor. 

Adam pulled out and resumed washing me, spending a lot of time sliding his hand back and forth in my ass crack. "I need to clean my cum off you," he explained. I turned the water off and turned around into Adam. He pulled me into him, and I buried my face in his neck. It was clear he was not going to kiss me.

We dried, walked to our locker, and dressed. "I need your number," Adam said. I gave it to him, and he gave me his back.

"The parental until'll be gone for the weekend. Want to come to the farm?"

"For the whole weekend?"

"Yep. You can come down after the game Friday."

"And stay two nights?"

"Yep."

"I don't think my parents will let me get away with that."

"Tell them you're helping a dumb kid who can't talk and who might not graduate without you."

"But, none of that's true."

"They don't know that," Adam said, smiling a sinister smile at me.

When I was settled into bed that night, I received a text from Adam. It was a picture of his junk with an "until friday, this'll have to do" message. I was going to move heaven and earth to make sure the weekend happened.

Second Base (Part Five)

My parents were surprisingly sanguine about it. Of course, they did not know that Adam's parents would not be around, that Adam basically had his own apartment, or that Adam seems to have open access to beer and pot.

I texted Adam as soon as I got the word. "C U Fri/Sat/Sun. It's on." Almost immediately, I received back, "Awesome. B ready to work."

I thought he was playing on words, so I answered "I don't consider it work."



Adam's response - ":) get ur mind out of my shorts i'm talking about chores ur visiting a farm" - worried me. I didn't know shit about farm work. And, I did not particularly care for physical work generally.

We got annihilated in our District game. The school we played had a pitcher everyone expected to be taken in the amateur draft, and we were helpless against him. If we looked fastball, he snapped a change or a curve. If we looked off-speed, he zipped a fastball past us.

I started and batted second. I did not even sniff contact. I was 0 for 3 with a HPB (I leaned into one just to get one base). We had two hits. We scored no runs. They had 10 times as many hits and scored 14 runs. We lost to the mercy rule. It was shameful.

When our bus stopped, I hustled into the locker room, grabbed the bag I had stuffed into my half locker, and headed to my car. I was 30 minutes from Adam, and I couldn't wait.

I had to. I showed up at his house 20 minutes before he did, and - when he showed up - he was not alone. He had his brother with him, who he had picked up at his school. 

"David, my brother Aiden. Aiden, friend and tutor David. He'll be here for the weekend to help me get over the graduation line." I would never get over Adam's ability to speak without using a single S.

"Adam's a dope," Aiden said.

"He's not," I responded. There was no point in arguing with an adolescent.

Aiden looked at me and rolled his eyes.

I popped hot pockets in the oven while Adam and Aiden bickered. They were like rivals. Finally, Adam tired of it, and forced Aiden into the house.

Once Aiden was gone, Adam locked the door, fired up the bong, closed the blinds, and told me to take a seat on the sofa (futon). He put on "Raising Arizona," which was one of my favorite movies of all time. He was to my right, and I hooked my right leg under his left. 

Adam put his hand on my thigh, and I put mine on his crotch. He got hard as I slowly massaged his junk while Nicolas Cage proclaimed "I love you, Edwina" and "Her insides were a rocky place where my seed could find no purchase." 

Before the "wart hog from hell" could assert himself, Adam suggested we go to bed. We stripped nude and climbed into bed. We were naked and face to face. We had never kissed.

I reached down and grabbed his hard dick. He reached down and grabbed mine. We stroked each other. It seemed like the most natural thing, so I moved my lips to his. He tried to avoid my mouth, but he couldn't. I would not let him get away. Finally, he kissed me back. The dam broke. Our mouths opened. We made out as we continued to stroke each other.

I came first, filling his hand and splattering his stomach. He followed quickly behind, coating my dick and balls with his load. We continued to make out.

Adam rolled onto his back, and I rolled onto my side next to him. I traced his nose, his lips, and his chin. I followed his chin to his Adams apple and clavicle. I followed his clavicle to his chest and circled his hard nipples. I followed his treasure trail to his hardening dick.

"Adam, will you fuck me?" I asked.

"For real?"

"For real."

Adam didn't answer. Instead, he rolled into me, and kissed me long and deep. 

"I want you to fuck me missionary," I said, when our kiss broke. "I want to be able to watch you."

I maneuvered under him and wrapped my arms and legs around him. I loved the feeling of his weight on me.

"Do I need a condom?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I want to feel you come inside of me."

Adam started to press at me. "Hold on, big boy," I said. "You do need some lube."

Adam darted to the bathroom, returned with Vaseline, said "this'll have to do," and climbed back on top of me. I guided him to my hole, and he started to press in. The pain was sharp. I had not been fucked in a while, and he did not know how to prepare me. I sucked air between my teeth, and Adam asked "Am I hurting you?"

"It always hurts at first," I said. "Keep going, but go slow."

Adam did not understand how slow I meant when I said "slow." He pushed into me as if I were a girl. I inhaled and clenched. "Stay right there, please," I begged. "Give me a minute to adjust."

"Okay, but hurry up. I'm not going to be able to hold off for long."

I took a few long, deep breaths and told Adam he could start, but to go slow. After a few strokes, I opened fully, and I raised my legs so I could take all of him. Adam gripped my legs behind my knees for leverage and started delivering deep, slow strokes. It was clear he knew how to fuck. 

"Look at me," I said. Adam opened his eyes, and I locked mine to his. 

"Does that feel good?" I asked.

"Oh, yeah . . . tight and warm," he responded.

"You can speed up, if you want."

"I'm a turtle," he responded. "I like to go slow and steady."

He did. The longer he lasted, the better it felt, and the harder I got. I was cresting toward my own orgasm when Adam warned, "I'm really close."

"Come inside me," I urged. He did, driving his dick all the way in as he did. The feeling of his swollen cock unloading in me was too much, I came all of my chest and stomach.

Adam collapsed onto me, and I finally lowered my aching legs. "Wow," was all he said.

"Agreed," I responded.

We relaxed into each other. I kissed Adam's ear and cheek. He turned his face to me, and kissed my nose.

"Go clean yourself up," I said. "We're not finished."

When Adam returned from the bathroom, I had him lay flat on this stomach. I massaged his neck, shoulders, ass, and legs, mixing in kisses and licks as I did. Before turning him over, I told him "I'm going to eat your ass. Just relax and enjoy it." I did, and he did, raising his hips to give me complete access. I could have spent hours in his ass, but I had a more pressing agenda. 

I rolled him over and devoured the front of him, too. I want every one of his skins cells to be tingling when I finally took him in my mouth. 

When I finally got around to it, Adam's dick was rock hard. I worked him into the back of my throat and started slowly sucking him. Every time I thought he was close, I backed him off. I wanted him to beg me to let him come.

It didn't take long. "Dude, I can't take much more. I really need to come."

I pounced, pressing my slickened finger into his ass. I was worried Adam would reject my attempt to finger fuck him, but he didn't, responding only with a gaspy "oh my god."

I pressed my finger all the way in as I took his dick all the way to the base. I swirled my finger around until I hit my target. When I did, Adam said "holy fuck" and erupted in the back of my throat, arching his back as he did. I drained him and kept sucking and working his prostate until he cried out and forced me to stop.

"Come up here," he said. I did, laying my head on his shoulder.

"You weren't kidding," he said.

"About what?"

"It could get better."

"Did you enjoy that?"

"Yeah. I didn't think I could have a bigger orgasm than the one I had inside you. But, that one boggled my mind. I think I almost passed out."

"You're welcome," I said. Adam responded by kissing my forehead.

Second Base (Part Six)

We woke up early the next day, but we got a late start on our chores. I thought I'd give Adam a quick morning blow job, but he had other things in mind and wound up fucking me, too, this time against the shower wall. He jerked me off as he did, and we came together, him in me and me against the cold, slick tile.

We spent the day working. Hard. Mid-afternoon, I was worried I was going to be too tired and sore for sex. I wasn't.

Aiden joined us for dinner. As soon as we sat down, he asked "Did you guys fuck last night?"

"What is wrong with you?" Adam snapped back.

"Nothing. I just figured that's why I got kicked out."

Adam said, "You got kicked out because you're a little dick. We didn't fuck. I'm not gay."

"Whatever," Aiden said, dismissing Adam.

"New topic" was all Adam said in response.

As soon as we were done eating, Adam booted Aiden out with a story of our long day, my not being used to hard labor, and my need to "turn in" early so I could work the next day. I doubt Aiden bought it, but it was at least plausible. To add plausibility, Adam turned out the lights as soon as he saw Aiden's bedroom light go on.

"Come here, Monkey," he teased. I did, and he slowly undressed me, kissing and touching my body as he did. When I was completely naked, he stood up, kissed me deep and long, and then whispered "I've never done this before." Before I could ask "what," he was kneeling in front of me, holding my dick, and moving his mouth onto it. For the first time ever, I was in Adam's mouth. With no alcohol or drugs dulling my senses, I didn't last long. I said "I'm going to come" as I started to explode. To my surprise, Adam didn't pull off until I was done coming, at which point he ran to the bathroom and spit my cum in his sink.

When he returned to the room, he apologized. "I though about eating it. But, I couldn't."

"That's okay," I assured him.

"Did I suck," he asked, not realizing the play on words.

"You did," I answered. When Adam's eyes went wide, I finished. "My dick, that is." We both laughed.

"What did you think?" I asked.

"Better than I expected."

"Yeah. It's just skin. Not really a big deal, when you think about it."

"I'd like to do it again. I want to get better at it."

"It won't take long," I said. "I'm 18. I bounce back fast."

"Can I fuck you while we wait?"

'I thought you'd never ask."

I rode Adam's dick for as long as I could, rubbing his chest and leaning down to kiss him as I did. When he was finished, we propped his head against a pillow, and I fucked his face. I was close from being fucked, so it was not long before I was coming in his mouth. Trapped, he had no choice but to swallow.

We went on like that for as long as we could, fucking and sucking and kissing and licking until we were too tired to get hard and too spent to come anymore.

*****

The next morning, I heard Adam get up and fire up his computer. I don't know what time it was, but I knew it was too early for more limp body to get up. I fell back asleep.

When I woke back up, Adam was sitting next to me, playing with his dick. "I thought you'd never wake up," he said.

"I'd like to go back to sleep."

"Later. We have one thing left to do."

"What's that?"

"You have to fuck me."

I bolted upright.

"You sure?"

"Yep. I googled it. I'm ready." I didn't ask him what he meant, but he later told me he had found a "how to" and had rubbed and fingered himself as instructed to make it as easy as he could.




Second Base



I had Adam lie face down. I ate his ass and worked my fingers in and out of him. He stayed tight, and no matter how many times I urged him to relax, he didn't. I told him I was afraid it was going to hurt too much, but he insisted he wanted to try it after seeing how much I enjoyed it and how hard it made me come. I'd like to write that it was awesome, that he opened to me, and that he loved it. But, it wasn't and he didn't. It was difficult, it hurt, and he never got used to it. I didn't even come inside of him, instead rolling him over and riding his dick so pleasure could push pain out of his senses. When he filled me and I had come again in his mouth, he said, "I can't believe you enjoy that."

"It takes some getting used to," I said. 



"I dunno,'" he said. "I like to fuck. I don't think getting fucked is for me."

"That's okay," I said. "I like getting fucked."

"Speaking of which," I added. "It looks like you're about ready to go."

"I am," Adam said, rolling me onto my back. "I like this way best," he said, hooking his arms under my legs. "I like to be able to see the pleasure of my dick on your face." Adam gave me a nice, slow fuck. My entire body was tingling by the time we came. 

We did no chores that day. We stayed in bed until I had to dress and head back to town. It was the sexiest weekend I've ever had.

Epilogue

Adam graduated a couple of weeks after our weekend together. I visited him a few times that summer, but not as often as I expected. Life just got in the way. I had to work. He had to work. Our families had expectations. And, Adam seemed to have had his curiosity quelled. 

It was awkward and bittersweet when Adam visited me a final time before leaving for college. I blew him, but I'm not sure he wanted me to. We did not keep in touch once he was gone.

Adam ended up marrying a girl in my class, so he and his wife were at my 10 year class reunion, which I attended with my husband, David. At 30, Adam looked almost exactly as he had at 18. David noticed him first, and gave me a nudge. 

"That guy's hot," he said. 

"Yes, he is," I responded. I raised my hand to Adam, and he immediately made his way toward me.

"Hey, Monkey," he said, greeting me with a warm embrace.

"Hey, Ape," I answered, holding on a little longer than I should have.

"You know you're not to call me that," Adam said, pulling back. "Look at you. You're all grown up."

"Adam," I said, "this is my husband, David. David, this is Adam. He's the one I took second base from."

"I gave it to you," Adam said, emphasizing the word "gave."

"Yes. . . you . . . did," I said, exaggerating the time between each word and hoping Adam caught the double meaning. He did, as he blushed, and then introduced me to his wife, who I obviously already knew.

As David and I undressed for bed that night, he said "That guy Adam is pretty hot."

"Yes, he is."

"There's a story there, what was with the 'monkey' and the innuendo and the blushing?" David asked. He never missed anything.

"There's a long story there."

He said "tell me," so I did.



Second Best



I looked down at the legal pad on the desk and rolled the pen between my fingers as I tried to organize the words in my mind. It would have been much easier for me if I was at a keyboard in front of a computer. When at the computer my thoughts seemed to flow right to my fingers and the words would quickly appear on the screen. Hit 'print' and it would be done. Neat, single spaced lines of 11 point Times New Roman that would say it all, but to me that would be too impersonal. I needed for this to be personal; I needed what I was going to say to be an expression of "me" and so I would do it in my own handwriting. As one part of my brain tried to organize what I was going to say another part was busy remembering what it was that led to my need to say it.

++++++++++++++++++++

I had known Grace since the fourth grade. She moved in two doors down from me and we were the same age so we ended up in the same class at school. Even at nine there was something about Grace that pulled me to her. At that age most boys were still thinking of girls as "yucky" but I never felt that way about Grace.

We didn't see much of each other when we weren't in school. She was busy playing with dolls with her girlfriends while me and the other guys my age were playing "cops and robbers" or "cowboys and Indians" or sandlot baseball. It wasn't until I was twelve that I started noticing girls and Grace was the one I seemed to notice most of all.

It was the eighth grade when things changed. Our school wasn't all that big and the boys and girls had to share the gym for the physical education period. Usually the guys would have the gym one day and the girls would have the swimming pool and the next day the girls would have the gym and the guys would have the pool.

It was the boy's day for the gym, but when we got there the gym teachers had a surprise for us. The boys and girls were going to share the gym that day. They were going to teach us to dance! Boys and girls were paired up, a record player started playing and they started teaching us the waltz. I was paired up with Susan Jaffery and Grace was paired up with Dale Harding. I didn't know why, but I got upset watching Grace dance with Dale. At the end of the period it was announced that for the rest of the school term the boys would have the gym on Mondays and Thursdays and the girls would have it Tuesdays and Fridays. Wednesdays would be dance class and that we would keep the same partners. That news upset me a lot. Not that dance class was bothering me, but that I was stuck with Susan and Dale would have Grace.

And that was the start of it. Dale had Grace and Dale kept Grace from then on. The two of them were inseparable. By the tenth grade I was eating my heart out over Grace. What made things really bad for me was that Grace, probably unwittingly, led me on. Dale's parents were both teachers and they always traveled on summer vacations and were usually gone for two and a half to three months. While Dale was gone Grace asked me to take her to a party that Dale was supposed to have taken her to. We had a good time and when I asked her for a date she said yes. I dated her for the entire time that Dale was gone. She was receptive to my kisses and our necking got pretty hot and heavy at times. After two months I asked her to go steady with me and she said:

"Oh come on Rob; you know I'm Dale's girl."

That didn't stop her from necking with me though and she kept dating me until Dale got back from vacation.

+++++++++++++++++++++

Three months into the 11th grade Dale and Grace got into an argument over something or other and they broke up. Grace asked me if I would be her escort to a couple of parties she wanted to go to over the holidays and I of course said yes. We dated right up to Christmas and then one night when I went over to her house to pick her up to take her to a party her mother answered the door.

"Grace isn't here Rob. She left with Dale about half an hour ago."

I went to the party alone and when I got there I saw Grace and Dale dancing. I went up to them and tapped Dale on the shoulder to cut in and he turned and told me to go away.

"Not until Grace and I talk."

"She's not going to talk to you so beat it."

"Okay; I wanted to do this quietly and not make a scene, but if a scene is what you want then a scene is what you'll get." I turned to Grace and said loud enough for everyone to hear, "Would it have killed you to call me and break our date instead of letting me show up at your front door and have your mother tell me that you had already gone?"

Grace looked away from me and Dale pushed me and said, "Get the fuck out of here Rob."

"Keep your hands to yourself Dale."

"Oh yeah? What are you going to do about it" and he shoved me again.

"This" I said as I hit him as hard as I could. It broke his nose and blood sprayed all over Grace's green dress as he went to his knees. "Hey, red and green" I said as I pointed at Grace's dress. "Very Christmassy." And I turned and left the party. 

Grace called me around noon the next day. "How could you embarrass me like that? And my dress is ruined. I can't get the blood stains out."

"Your own fault Grace. What did you think was going to happen when what you did was leave me standing on your front porch? You think I was going to worry about how you felt when you couldn't have cared less about how I was going to feel when I rang your doorbell and you weren't there? Thanks for calling Grace" and I hung up on her.

+++++++++++++++++++++

About three weeks into the spring term I came out of Burger Heaven where I had a part-time job and found Dale waiting for me by my car. He had eight or nine people with him, including Grace and a few other girls. As I walked up to my car Dale said:

"You and me have some business to settle. You sucker punched me that ni..." and I hit him. He wasn't expecting it. I guess he thought I'd just stand there and listen to him spout off until he decided to swing, but I wasn't having any of it. I stepped up and hit him again and broke his recently reset nose again. His hands flew up to his face and that left him wide open and I hit him three more times and was going for more when I was pulled away from him.

"Sucker punching is when someone hits you from the blindside when you aren't expecting it. I was facing you at the party and after pushing me the second time you should have been expecting me to do something. You came here tonight looking for a fight so you should have been expecting it tonight too. Stay away from me Dale. Your nose can only be broken so many times before it starts looking like a pancake in the middle of your face."

I looked over at Grace, but she looked away. I got in my car and drove on home. Dale did stay out of my way from then on and eventually Grace stopped looking away whenever I glanced her way.

+++++++++++++++++++++

Just before the end of the term I was sitting at a table in the library doing some research for a paper that was due when Grace sat down at the table with me. I looked up from the book I was reading as she looked at me. Didn't say a word, just sat there and looked at me. I waited a few seconds and then I shrugged and went back to reading the book. Maybe thirty seconds later Grace said:

"What happened to us Robbie? We used to be such good friends."

I looked up and answered, "You know what happened to us Grace and you also know that it was your fault. A phone call could have prevented it, but you didn't make that phone call."

"I'm sorry Robbie, I really am. I can't even give you a good excuse. I was just so glad when Dale called and told me that he missed me that I just didn't think of anything else. It was wrong of me not to call you." She stopped talking for a second or so and then she said, "Actually, it was wrong of me not to have told Dale that I had a date for the party and that I would see him the next day. I'm sorry Rob and though it is a little late, I apologize."

I looked at her a bit and then I said, "Want to walk over to the Shack and get a milkshake?" It wasn't a magical moment by any stretch of the imagination, but Grace and I were talking again.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The term ended. Dale went off with his parents on their long summer vacation and that left Grace at loose ends so I was not surprised when one day she called me and asked me if I would take her to a party the next night.

"I don't want to go alone."

That was the start of it. I started keeping steady company with Grace, but I was a little older and just a tad wiser that time. I knew I was just standing in for Dale and I knew that if I was sitting on her front porch swing kissing her and Dale pulled up in the drive she would push me away to make room for him to pick up where I left off. 

Grace was using me only this time I knew it. But she still caused my heart to beat faster when I looked at her so I dated her and hoped that Dale would get struck by lightning or get run over by a train.

Toward the end of summer I started slacking off on calling Grace for dates. I had gone a week without calling her or seeing her and she called me and asked me where I'd been.

"Just working at Burger Heaven and working on my tan in the backyard."

"Why haven't you called me?"

"Dale is due home anytime now and I don't want to be in the middle of something and have you walk away."

"Bullshit Rob! That will never happen again and you know it. I want you to take me to Hillary's birthday party tomorrow. Please?"

I was a sucker where Grace was concerned so I said I would. I really did not want to go to Hillary's birthday party. I expected that it would be very uncomfortable. I had dated Hillary and one night after a party and some pretty heavy necking Hillary had willingly given me her cherry and after the initial pain and discomfort Hill had really gotten into it. So much so that there had been a second, third and fourth time. The fourth time just one block from her house as I was taking her home. 

I fully expected that Hill and I would be doing a lot more of it in the future, but when I called her the next day she hung up on me. I called her seven more times over the following week and six times she hung up on me. The seventh time she said: 

"Will you stop bothering me?" and hung up.

Maybe three weeks later I ran into her at a party. I did my best to ignore her and stay out of her way, but near the end of the party she came up to me, called me a pig and slapped my face. She started to do it again and I grabbed her wrist and said: 

"What the hell was that for?"

"You know damned well what it was for. You are just another one of those "wham, bam, thank you ma'am" assholes who gets what he wants and then takes off never to be heard from again."

"Bullshit Hill. I called you for a week and you wouldn't talk to me. The last call I made you told me to leave you alone so I left you alone."

I let go of her wrist and walked away from her. I hadn't talked to her since and now here I was going to her birthday party. Only Grace could have gotten me to do something like that.

Before going to pick up Grace I ran to the store and got a card for Hillary and a pair of hoop earrings and some gift wrap. When we got to the party I gave Hill the card and the gift and then left her to go and mingle with the crowd before she could go off on me.

Maybe an hour after I got to the party I was standing off to the side, sipping a Coke and watching Grace talk to three other girls when Hillary came up to me.

"Does Dale know that you are nailing his private stock?"

"I am not having sex with Grace Hill; we are just friends."

"You do know that the only reason she is with you is that no other guy will be seen with her, don't you? They are all afraid of Dale."

"Not my problem."

"Why aren't you having sex with her? She isn't a virgin. Dale has been screwing her for over a year now and he's been gone for almost three months so she has got to be wanting it."

"What is it with you and sex Hill? For someone who got so bent out of shape over getting laid you sure talk a lot about it." 

"Call me and I'll tell you all about it."

She wandered away leaving me wondering what was with her.

On the ride home Grace said, "What is up with you and Hillary?"

"Nothing. Why?"

"You didn't notice that she wore the earrings that you gave her all night? Gail gave her earrings, Brenda gave her a necklace and Bill and Sue gave her a matching set of bracelet, necklace and earrings, but the only jewelry that she wore tonight were your hoops. Am I losing you to her?"

"How can you lose me Grace? I'm not yours. Dale is yours as you so often remind me."

She was silent for a moment and then she said, "Pull over."

"Why?"

"Because I can't kiss you while you are driving."

I pulled over and parked and she slid over next to me and we started making out. Ten minutes into it Grace put her hand on the hard lump in my trousers and rubbed it.

"Take it out" she said.

"What?"

"Take it out Robbie; I want to see it."

"Grace, I don't think it would be a good..."

"Please Robbie, I want to see it."

I didn't know what to think, but I wasn't stupid. The girl I wanted wanted to see my equipment and I was going to say no? I unzipped and worked my hard on out and she took it in her hand and started stroking it. I was torn between wanting to put my hands on her breasts and my fingers in her pussy and taking the chance that it might break up whatever mood it was that she was in or leaving her alone so she wouldn't stop what she was doing. 

The previous summer, just before I asked her to go steady I went for her tits one night when we were necking hot and heavy and she said "no" and pushed my hand away. Ten minutes later I tried again and she slapped my hand away and yelled, "Damn it Rob, I said no!" and then she had pulled away from me and told me to take her home. So with that in mind I decided to just sit there and enjoy what she was doing.

She slowly stroked me for a minute or so and then she stunned me. She bent her head and took my cock in her mouth. I wasn't a virgin, but I wasn't all that experienced either. I'd only had sex eleven times split between three different girls and I'd never had a blow job. Add to that the fact that it was almost four months since my last time so I was ready to cum ten seconds after Grace closed her lips around me. I didn't know what I was supposed to do. Jerk it out of her mouth? Tell her I was cumming? Or just let it go in her mouth. I did not - repeat NOT - want to pull it out, but at the last second I decided to err on the side of caution and I started to push Grace away. I was too late. I erupted just as my cock came out of her mouth and she caught the full discharge on her face. She was not happy.

"What did you do that for? God Robbie, it got all over my blouse."

"I didn't think I was supposed to do it in your mouth."

"It would have been better than going all over my clothes. I can't go home looking like this. If my parents are up and see me like this they will ground me until I'm eighty. Do you have enough money for a motel room?"

"I think so."

"Head for the Super 8 over on Melrose and stop at the Safeway just up the street from it."

On the way she asked me why I'd done what I had and I explained it to her including the part about never having had a blow job before.

"Never? But you dated Sandy Beeler and I've been told that she gives the best head around here."

"I never had any sex with Sandy, let alone head."

"Oh you poor baby. I wish I had known. I'd have done you by hand to get the first one out of the way and then the blow job would have lasted longer."

As I drove I was thinking that it was obvious that Grace had a lot more experience than I did and then I started wondering what was going on. Why was Grace suddenly bestowing her favors on me? I stopped at the Safeway and she had me run inside and get her some spot remover and then I got a room at the motel.

In the room Grace took off her blouse and used the spot remover on her blouse and then she hung it up on the shower curtain rod to dry.

"What should we do while we are waiting for my blouse to dry" she asked as she unhooked her bra and let it fall to the floor. "Any ideas" she asked as she stepped out of her skirt.

"Oh my God" I thought as I looked at her naked body and then I hurriedly started to undress. When I was naked Grace pushed me back on the bed and said, "Lets try this again" and she bent and took my cock in her mouth. She worked on me for several minutes while I laid there and thought I'd died and gone to Heaven. The feeling was incredible and I quickly came to understand why guys talked about blow jobs with such reverence. 

My cock was throbbing when Grace took her mouth off of me and lowered herself down on my hard cock. She rode me cowgirl - sliding up and down and rocking back and forth - and moaned as she took my dick. She was the fourth girl that I'd ever been with and there was a major difference between the way I felt with her and the way I had felt with the others. I didn't understand it at the time, but later I figured out that it was the difference between having sex and making love. I had sex with the others, but with Grace I was making love.

Grace emitted a little cry as she had an orgasm and seconds later I had my climax. When Grace got off of me and fell to the bed next to me I sat up and looked down at her.

"You went down on me and I'd like to return the favor, but I never have done that before either. Tell me what to do."

"But you just came in me."

"So? You said that I should have let go in your mouth and if you were willing to let me do that I should be willing to do whatever I need to do to give you pleasure."

Grace gave me what amounted to "Eating Pussy 101" and surprisingly I enjoyed it. I enjoyed eating pussy so much that I dug in and was able to give her an orgasm with my mouth. By then my cock was hard again and Grace pulled me up on top of her and I made love to her for the second time. I lasted longer the second time - a lot longer - and I was able to give Grace two more orgasms before I had mine. I was just pulling out of her when she exclaimed:

"Oh shit! Look at the time. You need to get me home."

The first five minutes of the ride home I was silent, but then I had to ask. "What happened tonight Grace? Not that I'm complaining mind you, but why did you do what you did tonight?"

She stared out the passenger window for maybe ten seconds and then said, "I did it to get back at Dale for cheating on me."

"When and with who?"

"I don't know her name, but it happened in San Diego. When was last week. Belinda was there visiting her aunt and she saw Dale kissing some Spanish looking girl. She watched while Dale ran his hand up under the girls skirt and then they got up and walked down the street to a motel."

I stared out the window at the road in front of me while I argued with myself over whether I should do the right thing or keep my mouth shut. Like an idiot I let the "right thing" win.

"You or Dale ever do anything to Belinda to make her want to even with you?"

"I don't think so. Why?"

"You know that my mom and dad are good friends with Dale's parents, right?"

"Yeah. So what?"

"Mom and dad keep an eye on their house while they are gone. Dale's mom and dad call and check in with my folks about once a week. They called the middle of last week and one of the things they told my mom when she talked with them was that they had made a last minute change in their summer travel plans. They didn't go to California. They went up to Canada instead. They called from Quebec. Dale was never in San Diego. Dale was never in California at all. Belinda lied to you."

Even in the dark car I could see her face pale as the realization of what I'd just said hit her.




Second Best Ch. 01



Mark's in a wonderful mood today. Even to someone who didn't know his idiosyncrasies, this would be obvious. Everything he does, he does with a burst of energy, as if always on the edge of dancing. He whistles while he works at his computer and sings under his breath while he chops vegetables for dinner.

Usually, his joy is my joy: knowing he is happy is plenty enough to make me happy. But not today. Today I am despairing inside. Today Mark's girlfriend is visiting.

In the community lingo, I'm a secondary partner, where Mark's girlfriend, Lilly, is the primary. A year ago when Mark and I first started seeing each other, I liked the lack of commitment and had several other partners of my own. It was fun to play the other woman, but still know that it was all consensual and that nobody was going to be hurt. Until now, I'd never reacted like this, her visits back home from her job overseas had always meant more time for my other partners, my work, my family, my friends.  

But in the last few months, things have really changed. Consciously or otherwise, I dispensed with my other partners one by one. The chemistry between Mark and I so intense, that sex with anyone else had begun to feel pale and forgettable. More than that. I had things in common with Mark beyond mere kinks.

Mark croons an old swing love song that I have never heard before as he tumbles the vegetables into the wok. Even in my bitterness, I can't help but smile. 

"Steph, could you get the wasabi and the soy sauce from the fridge for me, please?" His voice is warm and presumes nothing but close friendship between us. Any ill-will I feel evaporates.

"Sure," I move the wasabi from the fridge to the counter, then offer the glass bottle of dark soy sauce out to him. He takes the bottle but only to discard it on the counter and wrap my face in his strong, soft hand.

"Y'know," he grins, a familiar grin that I love for what it foreshadows, "There is still an hour before Lilly gets here...", his other hand traces the outline of my waist, fingers prying at the waistband of my jeans, brushing softly against the newly exposed flesh.

"Hmm?" I murmur, happy as ever for him to spell it out for me.

"So," there's a note of laughter in his voice, "What I think would be an apt use of our time, would be if you were to take off all of these pesky clothes and sit on the counter here," he paused in his exposition to give me a light kiss, a tease. "And touch yourself, until you're desperate to be fucked, and then finger fuck yourself until you're desperate to cum." Another kiss, a little more lingering, "And then, maybe, if I really like what I see, I'll let you." His hand drops from my face and he returns his attention to his cooking, I can practically hear his grin. 

He loves to torture me like this. Once when he had to work from home, he made me sit on his desk next to his computer and pleasure myself all day while he typed emails and managed spread sheets. He barely seemed to look at me, but it I stopped for a moment he'd seem to know immediately.

"You aren't going to fuck me are you?" It sounded like a question, but really it was a statement, I knew he had no intention of fucking me at all. He didn't turn around from the wok.

"No. Of course not, I can't be spent and satisfied when Lilly gets here can I? Can't waste my wild oats on you." He said it lightly and full of humour, with no notion at all of the genuine envy and even hurt I felt. I bit down on the uncomfortable feelings swirling in my stomach. She'd only be here a fortnight, then she'd go, and then Mark would be all mine again for another few months. "Besides," he continued, still with his back to me, "You sound awfully dressed from here,"

With a resigned sigh I began to undo the buttons of my shirt, one at a time, trying to exaggerate the tiny sounds in a bid for his full attention. It was pointless. I pulled the shirt open, exposing my slim breasts in their white laced bra and the toned flat of my stomach. I shed the shirt and it fell to the floor completely soundlessly. I kicked off my sandals and undid the top button of my jeans, but saved the zip. The zip he'd be able to hear. I began to stroke my body, running my fingers along my shoulders, neck and collar bones. Imagining his fingers in place of mine, the way they trailed deliciously across my skin. I grasped at my breasts, squeezing and kneading them gently, then tugging at my nipples through the fabric. I felt them perk a little, but it wasn't enough. I unhitched the bra and slipped it off my shoulders, down my arms and onto the floor with the shirt. 

Now I was free to play with my nipples exactly as I liked, pinching and tweaking, twisting and teasing. Letting a little panting gasp of pleasure escape my lips and revelling in seeing his shoulders twitch just a fraction. He was paying attention whether he wanted me to believe it or not.

I pulled down the zip, quickly to ensure enough volume over the crackling of the oil in the pan. It only lasted a moment but he noticeably paused, before continuing as before with his work. 

I slunk out of my jeans and panties, surprised by how wet I was considering I knew I might not even get any release. I sat on the cool kitchen counter, legs crossed, one arm wrapped over my breasts, my other hand toying with my hair; playing at being a cheesecake pin up in the reflection on the metal toaster.

Satisfied with my countenance, I opened my legs and leant back a little, putting my weight on one hand behind me, leaving my other hand to roam my bare skin, caressing my hips and thighs. 

Done fooling, it was time to put on a real show.

Then the doorbell rang. Of course it was Lilly.



Second Best Ch. 02



Mark clapped his hands together in excitement, "Get dressed Steph, you're all naked for some reason," then he gave me a swift kiss on the cheek and headed off the answer the door. 

I got dressed in a whirlwind, and only just about in time.

Lilly swept into the room in a cloud of perfume and executive glamour. 

To see myself and Lilly stood together proved that Mark was not a man with a 'type' in mind when he chose his womenfolk. We were almost opposites. While I am blonde, tiny, pixie-featured, with narrow hips and pointy fashion model breasts; Lilly is an Amazon, tall and athletic, but without a sharp line anywhere on her body. She is a perfect hourglass, a goddess, Marylin Monroe and Wonder Woman rolled into one. A cascade of long dark red hair further proclaims her as a symbol of feminine sexual potency. 

She wears a deep green blouse, which makes the colour of her hair pop in a really sumptuous way and draws attention to her emerald eyes.Her waist is pinched in by a perfect pinstriped pencil skirt. The kind you spend hours shopping for, because it has to fit just so. I can't tell if she's wearing stockings or tights, but I know that I inexplicably want them to be stockings. Her feet are clad in surprisingly sensible black court shoes, but then, in killer heels she'd probably have to stoop to go through doorways.

I begin to gabble my goodbyes, pulling my sandals back on in a hurry. 

"Oh no don't be silly Steph," Lilly chirps, "Stay for dinner, Mark always cooks enough to feed the five thousand, plus it's so strange for us not to really know each other," I look wildly to Mark for help, but he seems just as taken aback by this change of plans, looking from her, to me and back to her again. 

"Sure!" he says finally, apparently deciding to be delighted with this plan, "Stay for dinner, it'll be great," They both beam at me. I have no idea what I'm saying yes to, but I know it probably isn't just dinner. 

"Sounds good," I say, gingerly taking off the sandal that I had jammed hurriedly onto the wrong foot.

***

Dinner goes more smoothly than I imagined. Lilly is a great raconteur and tells lengthy yet engaging tales of her global travels and wealthy clients. She is captivating, swirling her red wine in her glass, and laughing musically. I can barely tear my eyes away from her. When I do manage, I realise Mark is equally rapt. He gazes at her with adoring puppy-dog eyes that I know for sure he has never given me. The eyes he gives me belong to wolves. 

We sit with Lilly at the head of the table, Mark to her left and me to her right. They don't touch each other that I notice, although Mark squeezes my hand under the table once before we start to eat. He means it to make me feel better, but I feel uncomfortable, we haven't negotiated for anything like this and I don't know if it's ok to touch him in front of her. I find myself wanting them to touch though, willing them into an embrace. I flush. Even with my fraught envy, the idea of Mark being intimate with anyone is so sexy. 

"Have you ever been to Madrid?" Lilly's question pierces my hazy thoughts. 

"Oh, yes actually, when I was in university. I saw surprisingly little of the city, though, so I intend to go back one day."

"No time for sight-seeing?" she teased, dead right in her assessment of how I spent that particular trip.

"I er, was staying with a very handsome exchange student. He showed me lots of things but... none of them were on the guided tours." A languid memory of a coffee-flavoured late morning kiss, in a bed strewn with discarded clothes drifted through my mind. I was only nineteen then. So much had been new and thrilling. My clit pulsed unexpectedly, and I shuffled a little in my seat.

Lilly drained her glass and set it down with a knowing smile. Her green eyes were locked on mine. 

"Mark, darling," she said without looking at him, "Would you be a dear and clear the table?"

Hearing someone talk to Mark like that was so confusing - Mark was a leader, a dominant. Mark made me call him 'Sir' and suck his cock. What was even more confusing was his compliant response. 

"Of course," he smiled, gathered up the plates and exited to the kitchen, winking at me on his way out.

"Steph, remind me how long you and Mark have been seeing each other?" She has her elbow resting on the table and her chin resting in her hand.

"A little over a year," I stated, despite candle light and wine, this had a faint feeling of a job interview. 

"Y'know, he rarely keeps any girl around for that long, you must be something pretty special." She gave me another of her charming smiles, "Obviously you're very beautiful, but that wouldn't be enough to win him on its own," 

"Th-thank you," I stammered, feeling my cheeks flood with colour. I was confused by my desire for Lilly to approve of me, when before dinner I had hated her so much. She was classy and cultured and elegant, but being alone with her felt dangerous. Like she was a bomb that could go off at any moment. "Truthfully, I don't know what he sees in me, but I'm very grateful to have him in my life,"

"Oh hush, enough modesty." she dismissed, "What are you good at?"

"I - er," she didn't need to clarify, I knew what she meant, "I'm told that I'm good at keeping guys hard for a long time without tipping them over the edge, um, that I can give amazing head even though I never deep throat. I love doing that actually. I, well," Her green eyes had me pinned like a butterfly on a board and I quickly lost the ability to talk. Then she smiled wickedly and my heart palliated.



Second Best Ch. 03



Mark knocked on the dining room door before he entered. Who was this man in Mark's body? Knocking on a door inside his own house? 

"Come in darling," Lilly called pleasantly, "we're ready for you now." He entered the room carrying a tray - one I'd used countless times to bring him breakfast - at first I thought it transported desserts, but when he set it down I saw I was wrong. And I began to panic. 

On the tray was a familiar collection of toys, lubricants and tools. Some I loved, a few I liked, but the one that had me in fight or flight mode was the ball gag. I cannot stand not being able to verbally communicate; anything that prevents that over a prolonged length of time, is something I consider a violation of my hard limit. If he thought for a second that he could get me to wear it because Lilly was a witness and would see me safe word out early he had another thing coming. 

"Steph, sweetheart," Lilly was looking into my eyes, mesmerising me, stopping my heart. 

"Y-yes, Lilly?" I almost choked on my words, thoughts of the ball gag looming large in my mind. 

"I'd like you to take orders from me tonight - not Mark - would you be comfortable with that?" 

I nodded once, very deliberately, but opened and closed my mouth a few times in search of the right words before saying, "Yes, but please do not ever gag me."

She surprised me with a wide smile, "Oh sweet, sweet Stephanie, that's not for you my dear." She turned her gaze to Mark, who was smiling excitedly back at her. "I promise that I won't gag you, is there anything else you think I should know?" I shook my head. My heartbeat resumed.

"Very well," she said, leaning back slightly in her chair and surveying the pair of us. "Steph, you will only be taking my instructions this evening, and to ensure that that happens..." She poured water into her wine glass, leaving the words hanging in the air... "To ensure that that happens, Mark needs to be rendered speechless. Gag him."

I looked at Mark, but he was just grinning in encouragement. I picked up my most hated torture device and began to strap the man I adored into it. It felt utterly perverse and wrong to be binding my Dom, my fingers trembled as I fumbled with the adjustments. His eyes twinkled at me as I did so, but then, he does love to make me feel uncomfortable.

"Good girl," The unexpected praise drew another throb from my clit. I love to be called a good girl, especially when I'm doing something very, very bad. "Now strip him. Quickly." 

I did as I was bid. Unpicking shirt buttons at a lightning pace. Unbuckling his belt with a satisfying snap. Hauling the fabrics away from his lean, masculine body. He was already hardening, and I resisted the urge to play with his growing length as I slipped his boxers to the ground. 

"Perfect," Lilly chimed dreamily, she played sweetly with her red hair as she continued to observe us, "Now I want you to make him rock hard and ready, but without touching his balls or cock." I beamed and nodded at her. This was all a little too easy. I began to trail my fingers sensually over his body, starting at his earlobes, running down his neck, along his collar bones, down his broad shoulders and muscular arms. Then I flattened my palms against his skin, slipping my open hands over his bare chest, down his toned stomach, over the maddeningly sexy lines of his hip bones, to the outsides of his thighs and calves. Next I brought my hands into kitten claws; lightly dragging my finger nails over his back and buttocks to the backs of his thighs. I sunk to the floor before him, gazing up at his impeccable body. He's nicely hard now, but I continue to softly mark the insides of his thighs with my nails for my own enjoyment. I am dripping with excitement, hopeful that Lilly's next command will be to fuck him on the table. 

"While you're down there, and since apparently you're so good at it, I'd like you to blow him now Steph," No such luck, but I was still thrilled to oblige, "Mark darling, you must not cum under any circumstances without my express permission." She stood for the first time and smiled wryly, "But then you already knew that." She dragged the chair across the room and sat much closer, without the table to separate her from us. She was close enough to touch.

I cradled Mark's length gently in one hand, stroking him very softly and slowly. The heat of his firm erection was irresistible. I licked my lips, getting them wet and slippery, and then quickly pushed them over the head, my tongue massaging the underside as he entered my mouth. My eyes fell shut to focus my senses on the feel of him. I felt each of his excited twitches against my cheek as I swirled my tongue in leisurely circles around his tip. Tasting the salt of his precum as my tongue flashed across the slit, before I brought him a little deeper into my mouth. Agonisingly slowly I began to slide my small mouth up and down him. Making every tiny motion count. My fingers softly toying with his balls.

Oh, but I hated that gag! So often I'd heard him growl with want while I'd sucked him. He'd grasped my hair and pulled it tight as he neared release. He'd whispered to the heavens that I was a 'good girl' and 'perfect little submissive'. Now he was silent, arms by his sides.

I opened my eyes to check on my surroundings. Beautiful awful Lilly stood behind me with a finger on her red lips, and I knew no matter what I did to Mark he would never make a peep.



Second Best Ch. 04



In many ways, it was a new take on a familiar experience. After all, I'd lost count of the number of times I'd been a willing submissive, on my knees at the feet of a gorgeous man, pleasuring him abundantly with my greedy mouth. But this was different; it wasn't the recipient here calling the shots. Instead it was his girlfriend.

Lilly directed Mark and I like a curious child undressing Barbie and Ken, alternately sitting back to watch us over her wine glass or walking in slow circles around us, like a shark. She settled to stand behind Mark. 

"Hold her breasts for me," she purred in his ear, "No. Not like that, slip your hands under her shirt." His shaking hands felt their way under the fabric, softly squeezing my pert breasts still nestled in the cups of my bra. "Better," she soothed, her hands wandering over his bare chest, beautifully manicured fingernails raking across his flesh. She lowered her face close against his neck, but didn't quite touch. I knew he could feel her breath and that she could smell his aftershave. How either had the control to stay parted I couldn't tell you.

After each fulfilled command, Lilly seemed utterly delighted, quite enchanted with the scene that she had cultivated. But then almost immediately she would desire something else.

"Enough teasing him Stephanie. Get up. Come here." I did so reluctantly, but tried not to let it show. She whispered something I couldn't hear in Mark's ear and he nodded, before taking the seat that had been hers. 

Catching me off-guard, she took me by the wrist and pulled me into an embrace. It was the first time she'd touched me and my body tensed involuntarily. My heart took up a hammering pace. The scent of her expensive perfume engulfed me. I gazed up at her; she was so tall that my face was against her expansive bust. I relaxed into her arms. She pressed me close. Of all the places that my mind could have raced in that moment, I found myself noticing how safe and secure I felt pinned within her firm hold. How solid and right it felt. Then she scooped me into a deep kiss - where I swooned hopelessly. 

She broke away from me sooner than I could bear. My knees felt weak as she spun me around on the spot, so that I faced Mark. She had one arm locked protectively around my hip, her other hand smoothing my hair. 

"You are so adorably miniature," She remarked quietly, "A little doll," 

I didn't know what to say, so I smiled slightly and prayed I hadn't turned scarlet. Especially as I could see the effect our kiss had had on Mark. His hands screwed into fists and his gaze fixed lustfully on us, his cock as hard as it had been in my mouth. 

"How could you keep this little bird away from me all this time?" she asked him, although, of course he couldn't answer. She inched me forwards, pushing her hips softly into the small of my back, so that I stood centimetres from his chair.

"Hold very still for me Steph, if you're very good, that cock will be all for you. If you don't, you will sit by yourself while I fuck him properly. Do you understand?" I nodded. She frowned and sharpness entered her voice, "Say it. With words. Tell me that you understand." 

I gulped. "I understand. Hold very still."

"Better," she smiled. As soon as she had said the word, the hand that had stroked my hair began to unpick the buttons of my shirt. The hand at my hip was now cupping my pussy through my jeans. Staying still was already difficult. I wanted to grind against her hand, pant and moan, undo her own buttons. But I stayed still and silent as a statue. She slipped the shirt from my torso and began to cover my neck in small quick biting kisses. Her lipstick got smudged and it looked sexy as hell. 

"Never come to see me in a white bra again. A blonde like you should wear red." She muttered, peeling the straps off over my shoulders, folding down one cup and administering another love bite to my exposed breast. That perfect pain. 

The hand that cupped my pussy shifted higher, tearing open my jeans, slipping over my underwear and abdomen, before sliding back down, inside of my knickers. She pinched my clit between two knuckles - moan of ecstasy ghosted from my throat - but my body remained static. Then her fingertip spiralled around the sensitive bud, spreading wetness from the top of my slit over my hood and clit. I wanted to sink back into her protective arms, lean my head on her shoulder, but instead I poured my concentration into not moving a muscle. My very atoms seemed to vibrate with the effort.

One-handed, she removed my bra and began to tease my nipples. Rolling them between her fingers, stretching and squeezing them into points. She kissed me. Her tongue prying my mouth open and her lips pulling it closed again. Not returning the kiss felt perverse and unnatural. I was used to serving through giving. Not giving was a new kind of torture. And still her fingers span circles on my throbbing clit, sparks of electricity running through the circuitry of my body. My heart beat like a hummingbird's. My breathing was irregular and shallow.

"Such a good, good girl," her voice sparkled, "You can move for me again now, legs a little further apart," She pulled my jeans and knickers to the ground together in a single motion. "Step out," I did so, which put me naked and stood in a straddle position with my legs either side of Mark's chair. His hard quaking cock poised beneath me. Seeing it shook me with lust yet again. 

"Here's your reward Steph for being such a delight on our first meeting, I want you to cum for me, loud as you like, as many times as you like. Mark, darling..." She stood behind him again and ran her finger nails over his shoulders, "It remains that you may not cum, although you may move and touch Steph as much as you like in order to please her. Unless I decide that Steph is having too good a time, in which case, I may give you permission to cum inside her."

Her instructions sunk in slowly. "In your own time Stephanie," she teased.

And so, I lowered myself luxuriously down onto Mark's firm, wanting cock.



Second Best Ch. 05



Speared on Mark's thick shaft, I was in bliss. I clamped my thighs solidly on either side of his legs, the dining chair not quite built for the purpose it was now being used for. I could have stayed where I was, filled to the brim and stretched out around his glorious erection, basking in the sublime sensation. Mark had other ideas. 

His strong hands took hold of my hips, lifting them just enough that his own could buck up beneath me. Filling me over and over again in well-paced even thrusts. A thin mist of sweat soon covered his body. The effort was difficult for him, breathing as he was only through his nose, the ball gag still in place. He kept his laboured movements tight and focused, meeting my G-spot with unusual precision. 

To keep my body upright, my hands fell instinctively to his shoulders - where they met Lilly's elegant fingers - she curled hers through mine, locking my hands in place. She was whispering in Mark's ear. I longed to know what she was saying, but I couldn't hear her over the sounds of my thighs slapping and my hurried breath. Was she reminding him not to cum without her permission? Telling him he was fucking me just right? Remarking on my slim pointed breasts bouncing up and down to his steady rhythm? Did she like what she saw? I burned to know.

I gazed into his dark eyes in search of a clue, but all that was there was that familiar wicked glee, that wolfish hunger. Even gagged, with a Goddess of a FemDomme on his shoulder, he'd found a way to remind me that I was at his mercy, his whim.

The stirrings of a sweeping orgasm were building inside me. Waves of heated pleasure uncoiling from my swollen clit, rising through my shuddering walls and tightening abdomen. Beads of sweat collected at the base of my spine. My breath was ragged. As I neared my peak, his thrusting faltered. My frustration however, did nothing but intensify my desire for him. The sparks in his eyes told me that he knew as much. 

His hands cradled my buttocks, rolling my hips back and forth, grinding me against his swelled cock. My pussy gushed unabashedly as the new tide of urgent, frictional heat flooded my body. My clit pressed flat against pelvis, his hardness solid and deep inside me, his hands clasping at my ass and hips. I rode him. Squirming and writhing against his length, my fingertips cutting into his shoulders as I felt my apex approach again. The steady rhythm had completely given way to frantic, desperate shaking as we each made our efforts to bring my arousal to its inevitable shattering conclusion.

I clenched my muscles around him, feeling him quiver in reaction. My whole body felt like it was vibrating at a low frequency, sensations racing over my skin and through my frenzied nerves. My eyes took in one last greedy gulp of the delicious sight of his body - taunt muscles, raised veins, tightly closed eyes, hair damp with sweat - before my head tipped back, my eyes slipped shut and my mouth opened in a wavering moan. 

I cried out as my body jolted and my mind touched that perfect earth quake of oblivion. Lilly squeezed my hands. Almost as soon as the wave had crashed, another was arching, Mark didn't slow at all as I came for a second time. I was louder now, declaring my ecstasy to the whole street. Lilly flashed an excited grin at me and then whispered again in Mark's ear. This time what she said was no mystery, as Mark lifted me again and thrust mercilessly up into my reeling pussy. He took me hard and fast and within moments he was cumming. Filling me with his jetstream, his cock pulsing helplessly within my walls. A guttural sound issued from behind the gag. 

We came down quietly. Sweat slipped soundlessly from my face, over my neck and breasts. My heart slow to find a regular pace. Mark still rocked me gently, pulling me close to him, so that my head rested on his chest.

"Very, very lovely," sighed Lilly, languorously, her eyes half shut and a playful smile on her lips. She still hadn't removed any of her sophisticated clothing and her face was gorgeously flushed with warmth. "Both of you get up now."

We scrabbled to follow orders, awkward and shivering on our jelly legs. She surveyed us, my legs dripping with our combined fluids; Mark's sated cock now retreating. Our nudity and vulnerability more pronounced than ever. 

"Mark darling, you've done so well for me," she cooed, massaging the marks she'd helped me make in his shoulders. "I think that you're ready to come out of this," she expertly removed the gag and passed it to me to hold. Even having it in my hands made me feel shaky, but it was obvious that for the time being at least, I'd slipped from her thoughts.

She held Mark's face in her hands. They were about the same height and she looked him dead in the eye as she spoke. "You may speak now, but only when spoken to and only to me." Her hands found the scruff of hair at the back of his neck and pulled it tight. 

"Yes Mistress," he gasped through the sharp pain. She was rougher with him than with me. Their limits better known to each other from their years together; their synergy somehow tangible in the air. She rewarded him with a soft kiss, opening her mouth allowing him to probe her with his tongue. In my giddy post-orgasmic state watching them kiss was the icing on the cake. They were so beautiful together, her silky long red tresses hanging over his broad bruised shoulders. 

Then she caught hold of his bottom lip between her teeth and bit down hard. He moaned. She'd broken the skin. By tomorrow, his lip would be puffy and sore. 

"I've done so much watching today. I'm tired of watching." She hiked her pencil skirt a little way up, and sat on the edge of the dining room table. "Get on your knees and get your tongue inside me." He sank to his knees immediately. His head completely disappeared inside of her skirt. I trembled, thinking of how Mark must feel pleasuring her with his painful lips. God, I bet that's hot. 

I awaited orders of my own, but none came as I stood a little to the side, becoming cold and more aware of my tiredness. I watched Lilly's face intently. Willing her to request my assistance, thinking of all the ways I could please her. 

But she had no need of me. Mark's talented mouth soon had her laying back, hips jutting against his face, breasts heaving with breathlessness, her lips parted sensually as a heavenly chorus of half-sung sounds escaped her. 

"Enough," she whispered eventually, laughter on the edge of her low voice. "Both of you come hold me and then let's go to bed."



Second Best Ch. 06



I woke naturally, quite late in the morning judging by the strong rays of sunlight that fell through the window. Mark was propped up on the pillows beside me, reading the news on his tablet, the glasses he wore occasionally perched on his nose. His lip was swollen from last night's activities, but not as badly as I had expected. The other side of the bed was empty.

"Where's Lilly?" I sat bolt upright, my eyes bouncing off the bedroom walls in desperate search for her. Mark gave a soft laugh and flung his strong arm around my shoulder. 

"Don't panic 'little bird'," he teased me with Lilly's nickname for me, "She's gone to the Delhi to pick us up some breakfast. She'll be back soon."

"Oh." I said, feeling sort of stupid, but vastly relieved. I leant into his chest and he squeezed me tightly. It could have been any morning waking up in bed beside him, but it wasn't and my mind raced with questions about what had happened the night before.

"You should have told me you were a switch." I said, stroking his face lightly while he considered his answer. 

"Should I? It wouldn't have changed how you saw me as a Dom?" His words held the bitter sting of pain born from experience.

I bit my lip. In truth, I didn't know that it wouldn't have, especially when we first met. How would I have felt if he had just said the words, rather than shown me first-hand? But that wasn't what he needed to hear. He needed to know how I felt about it now. 

"If anything, I respect you more as a Dom now. All those times that you told me not to cum or to wait patiently for you - you really knew the full weight of what you were asking me to do. And you've never asked me to do anything that you weren't capable of doing yourself. I admire that." A touched smile cracked across his lips and he pulled me close to his body. He didn't say anything, so I kept talking. "You're the best Dom I've ever had; you show good judgement and awareness, you pay attention to my body, you listen... If that insight comes from your submissive side, then I'm happy that you have it." He pulled me underneath him and crushed me under a flurry of urgent kisses. Our fingers interlocked in a familiar intimate gesture. 

"Thank you," he said, and I could hear his heart in his throat, "I never liked hiding it from you... it feels like... it feels like you've finally seen all of me now." 

A few more silent thoughtful moments softly ticked by. He nuzzled tentatively at my neck, admiring the string of purple marks Lilly had left there. "But you know, it doesn't mean I'm going to be any softer on you the rest of the time." He growled quietly in my ear. 

"Oh, I am under no illusions." I said happily, batting my lashes at him unashamedly. 

"Good," He grinned, putting his glasses on the bedside cabinet, "Because I've been waiting for you to wake up so I can fuck you for hours now."

That was all the warning I got before he'd grabbed hold of my upper arms, pulled me roughly to the centre of the bed and forced me face-down into the mattress. He pinned my arms behind my back under one of his large hands. All I was wearing were my white knickers, which he didn't remove, but simply pulled to the side. He worked two fingers into my aching pussy, drawing wetness quickly from my folds. Each blunt thrust of his fingers sparked little pains and twinges, physical memories of his cock pumping inside me the night before. 

I turned my face to the side, gasping for breath already as his fingers pound relentlessly into me. He didn't play with my clit or fuss with my nipples; this was for him, not me, and he was going to make sure that I knew it. 

Mark dragged me backwards by my arms onto my knees, then released my limbs so that I could prop myself up on all fours. This was one of his favourite ways to have me, and knowing this I was quick and compliant in lining myself up against his growing erection. 

He rolled my now moistened knickers down my thighs to my knees and left them there. His hands found my hips and he pulled me backwards onto his thick, hard cock. I moaned as he entered me from behind. Revelling in the aches and sensitivity as he stretched me out. I pushed back against him, wanting him deep within me. That familiar primal heat was already building and with each thrust I swore under my breath or let a tiny sobbing sound escape. 

"If you're going to make noise, do it so that I can hear it," he chided, with that maddening tone of amusement and self-satisfaction that I both loved and couldn't stand. So now with each thrust I cried out for him, the language-less vowels of female arousal. 

"Oh you good girl," he teased, "Once upon a time you would have just stayed silent and made no noise at all. You sweet shy thing. Mmmm." And with that he lost himself in ploughing my pussy, his balls slamming against my dripping vulva, my ass red from repeatedly bumping against his hip bones. My sounds grew louder as he fucked me harder, odd fragments of English skittered from my lips like embers spat from a fire. 

"Fuck. God. Yes. No. Fuck. Please..." I moaned, my arms shaking from holding myself up against such an onslaught. My muscles twitched and contracted around his plunging shaft. 

"Scream for me!" Mark laughed, "Scream to God. Scream my name. I don't care, just scream and don't stop." 

Even without this order, there was nothing else I could have been doing in the next moment. The flames of the orgasm ripped through me, taking my senses entirely. 

"Christ! Please! Mark! OH!"

My prayers were answered and he shuddered and came rapidly inside me, shooting his molten lava against my walls. 

He was still inside me when the bedroom door swung open. Of course it was Lilly.



Second Best Ch. 07



Lilly was splendidly dressed again, today in a fitted dark green vintage dress that perfectly extenuated her hourglass figure. It was sleeveless, giving me the first glimpse of her bare arms and was a little shorter than the pencil skirt she'd worn yesterday. If she wanted to showcase her legs, this was the dress. 

"While the cat's away..." she reprimanded cheerfully, "I brought you little deviants some breakfast." She set down a tray of coffee and bagels, and then sat primly on the corner of the bed. 

Lilly was so elegant and there I was with my ass in the air, her boyfriend's cock rammed into my pussy, sweaty and flustered with a pair of knickers caught around my knees. I was so embarrassed that I had to turn my gaze away from her as I detached myself from our coupling. 

Mark pulled me back towards him cradled me close for a moment. 

"You were so perfect this morning Steph, in everything," he breathed in my ear, before kissing the top of my head and announcing more generally, "I'm gonna go hop in the shower, save me some coffee." I flushed with pleasure at the compliment and coyly pulled the bed covers over my lower body. He trailed a loving hand over Lilly's exposed arm as he got up from the bed and they exchanged affectionate glances. 

Lilly and I silently admired his naked form as he carelessly crossed the room, stretching and massaging his neck with his palm. His broad shoulders, the column of his spine and the muscular square of his buttocks all displayed to their full potential. 

When the door closed behind him, the spell was broken and we turned our attentions to one another.

"Stephanie?" Lilly's voice seemed oddly cautious. 

"Hmm?" was all I could manage

"I just wanted to apologise for last night," she said, very seriously. I looked at her incredulously. 

"Apologise? Are you crazy?" She raised a hand in a 'stop' motion and looked at me sadly. 

"I honestly hope that that means that you had a good time. I wanted you to have a good time. I had a good time."

"Then - " I began, but she raised her hand again and looked at me crossly. I knew I'd better not interrupt her any more if I wanted to stay out of trouble. I pulled the covers to my chin in a crude defence against anything fierce she might say. 

"I messed up a lot of things. I didn't ask you about testing, I didn't check your safe-word I just assumed that you use the same as Mark's, I didn't ask why the gag distressed you so much, or if you would prefer it to be taken out of play altogether. I've been doing this for a long time, and I have NEVER fucked up on as many basic things." She appealed to me with earnest emerald eyes, "I'm deeply sorry. It will not happen again." 

I was taken aback. I'd been so in awe of her at the time that I hadn't given enough thought to any of her points; we'd been free-wheeling and were lucky that no damage had been done to any of the three of us. I folded my hands around hers to comfort her.  

"I'm sorry too; I should have checked that you had my safe-word instead of assuming that Mark had given it to you. I trusted you because he did, but I shouldn't have let that switch my brain off."

"You trust me?" She smiled, seemingly touched. 

"Yes. That and I fancy you like mad." I said, regretting the words even as I said them. 

"Stephanie, sweetheart, everybody does," she planted a red lipstick kiss on my cheek. 

"Hardly surprising," I rasped, flooded with all the embarrassment of being spoken too by a high school crush. The mildest touch from her left me star-struck and idiotic.

She poured two small cups of black coffee from the caffettiera and passed one to me. 

"Do you want to hear about what I've got planned for us today?" 

I blew a curl of steam away from my cup and nodded.

"We're going shopping. Just us. I want us to have a chance to really get to know each other."

I'm not a shopping kind of girl, truth be told I abhor it. Crowds, queues, snippy assistants, endless choice but nothing you can imagine ever looking good on you. That's before I even touch my rant about Primark's labour practices.

"Sounds great - I'd love to!" I found myself exclaiming. Honestly, Lilly could have announced that we were off to march into the gates of Hell and I'd have been just as enthused; being near to her was too intoxicating to fight. She smiled widely, and rubbed her lipstick off (or across more of) my face with her thumb. I glowed under the caring contact.

"Excellent. I have a few business calls to make, but don't take too long getting ready."

I nodded. She kissed the top of my head lightly.

"Good girl," and with that she exited the room, leaving me all alone.

I demolished a bagel and finished the coffee, then kicked the duvet away from me and dragged myself, with some effort, out of bed. I could hear the water running in the bathroom still, but there wasn't going to be time to join Mark under the jets of hot water. I grabbed the first clean set of matching underwear I could find from my single drawer and laid them out on the bed - catching a glimpse of myself in the full-length mirror as I did so. 

It's not often I feel really attractive, but after the explosions of last night and the echoes of this morning it was hard not to suspect that, I might actually be beautiful. I surveyed myself in the mirror, indulging my moment as Narcissus and becoming enamoured with my naked and bruised body. There were yellow ones, almost healed on my thighs and knees, and thin scratches that traced the shapes of my hips; all still lingering from past play with Mark. At my neck were adorable lilac circles denoting moments where Lilly's mouth had covered my pulse. The crowning glory of it all was the love bite glowing on my breast, just overlapping my nipple and shaped like a waxing moon. The perfect badge of honour. 

I heard the water in the bathroom stop, and rushed to get ready.



Second Best Ch. 08



We took a taxi into town, which I thought decadent, but Lilly thought nothing of. She spent the whole trip sending e-mails on her phone and frowning. 

"Why don't you just turn it off? It's the weekend," I suggested, but her eyebrow arched in irritation - as if I'd asked her why she didn't just stop breathing in and out.

We arrived on an unfamiliar cobbled street, with elegant Victorian shop fronts, most of which seemed to be tailors, bridal shops and antiques dealers. It was a little hyper-real, like a film set or a street made of doll's houses.

"I've never been here before," I thought aloud.

"Well, you're here now," Lilly comforted, taking my arm and patting it, as if she could not imagine such a sorrowful thing. "This is where my flagship store is, I thought you should see it." I realised that I didn't even really know what Lilly's company did - was it textile design? Rather than embarrass myself by asking however, I elected to just wait and see.

She led me to a discreet looking shop with graceful signage that read "Lilly's Valley". In the window were two complementary sets of beautiful, tasteful and very high quality ladies' undergarments. The items were suspended on fishing wires, so the vivid silks seemed to float effortlessly in mid-air. 

"We don't use mannequins," Lilly explained, "I find their lack of diversity frustrating."

A bell jangled as we entered. Inside, the shop had a library-like sensibility, with fastidiously organised rails of brassieres, corsets, suspenders, knickers and other less recognisable clusters of ruffles and lace. Other customers perused the racks leisurely, whispering politely to one another. Behind the counter was a pretty teenaged girl with braided hair who became instantly flustered on our arrival. 

"Ms Dalton! We weren't expecting you today, unless we made a mistake and we were. I'll check the calendar. Shall I call to see if your specialist fitter is available?" The poor girl was crimson with embarrassment.

"No need for that Chloe, I didn't make an appointment. I'm here with Stephanie today," she smiled and put her hands on my shoulders. "We'll be taking the VIP fitting room however, if it is available."

"Absolutely, is there anything I can get you? Tea? Coffee? Our latest catalogue?"

"Not today, I already have a good idea of what we'll need, just bring us over everything in the Johansson Collection in sizes 32C and 34B."

"Of course," Chloe gave a sort of involuntary courtesy, muttered that she didn't know why she did that, apologised and shuffled awkwardly away to gather the items. Poor thing.

"I notice you already have me all measured up," I remarked quietly.

"Oh hush," Lilly teased. "I'm a professional!" 

The changing room itself was unusually lavish. Aside from it being hexagonal and very spacious, there were opulent gilded floor length mirrors surrounding us on all sides, including the back of the door. A small rail held all of the garments Lilly had chosen for me, while slightly to one corner were a small chaise longue and a low coffee table. 

Lilly pulled me into the middle of room and fastened her arms possessively around me. I admired our shared reflection; her sweep of deep red hair beside my shock of platinum blonde and her curved womanly figure against my girlish frame. A visual echo in 360 degrees. She looked my reflection in the eye as she whispered low in my ear, 

"Do you remember what I said to you yesterday Stephanie? About what you should wear when you come to see me?" I gave a small nervous smile.

"That I should wear red for you," flushing slightly, I looked at my shoes, but Lilly's manicured hand pinched my jaw and lifted my face back up to meet her gaze.

"Then I'm sure you've gathered why we're here today, I don't want you to have any excuses for not complying with this small, simple request." I nodded mutely. This seemed a little theatrical, but... I was alone with Lilly and I felt dizzy with her attention. 

Soon, I was only aware of her hands, gently cupping my breasts on the outside of my clothes. I relaxed into her arms, yielding happily to her touch. She moulded her palms to fit the forms of my tits, spreading her fingers out over the fabric of my buttoned shirt. 

"Perfect little handfuls," she murmured to herself, before pressing her whole body against my back and squeezing my breasts gently. Her lips wandered along my jawline and up and down my neck. I sighed softly with pleasure, quite limp and peaceful in her arms now, content to let her hands roam where they may. They soon did. Unpicking the buttons of my shirt one at a time, revealing gap between my collarbones to the mirror, then the white finger of space between my breasts where a cleavage might otherwise be, then the small ribbon embellishment on my ivory bra and lastly to my flat stomach. She rakes her immaculate nails over the narrow corridor of visible flesh, watching herself doing so in the mirror. 

"Stephanie, my little bird," she sighed a little sadly to me, "Can I hurt you?"

My head spins with the sweetness and sharpness of the question. I could look at her reflection, but I twist in her grasp to face her.

"I.. I would like that," I manage, my voice a little high, "Don't forget, my safeword is -"

"'Silver' - I won't forget," she assured me, as she slipped my shirt from my shoulders, "And 'bronze' to change play. I'll make sure to go slowly so you have plenty of time to tell me," she added, so I'd know she'd listened. 

And she got to work with her ladylike nails, pressing firmly now into my skin. She starts at the base of my spine and journeys up to my shoulder blades, then shoulders.

"Mmm," I sigh, as the clarity of the sharp sensation zips through my body. Her nails don't cut me; instead they leave white trails on my skin, like those left by aeroplanes on the sky. She's delicate in the way she hurts me, careful and precise. She grips my shoulders tightly in her talons, then releases me, leaving behind a cluster of crescent moons. Her tongue gently laps at my bruises where she finds them and she smiles each time I wince.

Then she eased my bra straps from my shoulders, nails dragging too over my upper arms. 

"I never want to see you wearing this again," she said sternly, unfastening my bra and peeling it away from my body. From all of the angles the mirror had to offer, my breasts were perky, proud even, my nipples pointed with arousal. "Do you understand that?"

"Yes Mistress Lilly," I responded promptly. 

"Good girl," she soothed, as her nails traced the lines beneath my breasts where the underwire had been. "Because if you forget," Lilly's fingers caught hold of each of my peaked nipples, "Things could become," she held my gaze in the reflection of the mirror and smiled knowingly, "Unpleasant." And with that she sharply squeezed, twisted and pulled on my erect nipples, so that I gave a small cry of shock. I clapped my hand over my mouth to muffle the sound, since we only had the semi-privacy of the changing room. 

"You are such a good girl, not needing to be reminded to keep quiet." She span me around, holding one of my hands above my head as if we were dancing, so that I faced her. She inspected my body. "Who did this to you?" she asked with exaggerated concern as she massaged her thumb over the large love-bite she had left on my breast the night before. The pain tingled where she touched and I gave a low half-laugh.

"A very beautiful, sophisticated, business-lady," I ventured. 

"Well, she sounds wonderful," Lilly grinned, her hands hugging my hips, skirting the waistband of my jeans. 

"She's modest too," I joked, but Lilly had lost interest in banter. Her hands had cupped my buttocks, tried my back pockets out for size, slipped up and down my inner thighs and now rested, tantalizingly still on the seamed denim protecting my warm, moist pussy. 

A low vibrating noise came from Lilly's bag. 

"Oh," she sighed, "I have to take this."

***

We leave the shop with two huge gift boxes of scarlet underwear, plus another set on my body, nestled secretly beneath my civilian attire. I am beside myself with unresolved arousal. My clit pulses and throbs and my lips drip inside my new knickers. 

We pile into the taxi together, but Lilly is still on her phone, talking urgently with one of her buyers in Germany to negotiate a bigger sale.

I can't decide if this is elaborate cruelty, and she's just making me wait on purpose, or if she has genuinely forgotten about me in the midst of her responsibilities. Either way, I remind myself that there's no point being a baby about it, take a deep breath and try to distract myself by flicking through the 'Lilly's Valley' catalogue from one of the boxes. (Note to self: looking at an underwear catalogue to distract yourself from your sexual desire is fucking stupid.) 

It was far more extensive that the small range I'd tried on earlier, with huge attention to diversity throughout. Not only was every shape and size of woman catered to, but also there were special sections for mastectomy bras, underwear for transgendered people, maternity lingerie and a whole host of others. Every model in the catalogue was gorgeous; athletic women with rich black skin, petite Asian beauties with dainty features, girls so tattooed they seemed clothed and my favourite; a curvy amputee with bright red curls framing her face, cat's eye spectacles and a sensual mouth. It was no wonder Lilly's business had taken off; she made something for everyone. 

"Stephanie?" Lilly had her hand over the phone's mouthpiece. "Do you mind if we drop you back at your flat? I think this could take a really long time," 

"Oh. Ok, sure," I agreed, keeping the disappointment just about out of my voice and turning to the taxi driver to give my address. I wondered why I couldn't just go back with her and hang out with Mark... but it occurred to me that they hadn't really had a moment alone together since she got back. I should just go home, leave them to it. 

The car pulled up on my street, and I lumbered out with my boxes. 

"Wait, wait, wait!" Lilly called after me, "You forgot something,"

And as I leaned back into the cab, she held my face in her hand and planted a soft, deep, sensuous kiss on my mouth. "You shouldn't be going anywhere without one," she smiled, gazing into my eyes. 

"I won't," I promised.

The lift was out of order and I trudged up three flights of stairs, struggling to see over my stack of boxes. I was out of breath when I arrived at my door, only to find to my horror that I had no keys in my bag. Shit. Did I leave them in the taxi? The shop? Back at Mark's place? 

I scramble for my phone and realise I don't even have Lilly's number. I try Mark, but there's predictably no answer. He's not one for being glued to devices.

I let out a long sigh, then reason that heading over to Mark's is the best option, since he has my spare key even if it turns out not to be where I left them. I leave my boxes outside my doorway, but bundle the underwear itself into my shoulder bag, hoping not to have to explain the situation to passers by. 

It's 5pm and the light is already starting to fade as I step out onto the street. Autumn leaves and crumbled cans skitter across the pavement. There's a chill in the air and I regret not putting on a jacket this morning. Its a bit of a trek to Mark's, but I don't fancy being stood still in the cold waiting for the bus either. I figure there's enough daylight left to make it.

But soon, orange streetlamps are flickering to life, I'm shivering and my feet hurt. I try Mark's phone again and again, until eventually, my battery gives out. I start to become genuinely anxious. What if I get there and they've gone out to dinner? What if Mark knows that I'm calling but just thinks I'm being clingy and psychotic and is refusing to answer? What if Lilly's telling him not to answer? 

Tears are slipping unbidden from my eyes. I walk straight into a guy coming the other way.

"Sorry there lass," he says gruffly.

I looked up and found myself gazing into the electric blue eyes of Dean. The first man I'd ever let hit me.



Second Best Ch. 09



I've heard some people say that you don't really ever fall out of love with your first Dom. Not fully. As if the first time you tell someone that you're theirs is the only time that it really counts. I don't believe such things, but, seeing his face. Feeling that thunder clap in my chest. I understood why other people do. 

Dean. I hadn't seen him in years. He'd aged - gracefully - but the more than a decade's age difference between us was noticeable now, though it never had been while we were together. Crinkles around his tropical ocean eyes, strands of silver and grey in the shoulder-length brown hair that was scraped back into a ponytail behind his head. There was a sun-beaten look to his once vampire skin. He was broader and less willowy. But it was his mouth that I really noticed, those slightly too thick matte lips, bordered with groomed stubble, unfurling into a weak, hopeful smile.

I let his thumb chase a tear away from my face. I let his arm fall around my shoulder. I let him walk me back to his apartment. 

We arrived in the eerie familiarity of his - once our - studio apartment. The smell of paints and linseed oil. The minimalist kitchen island, black leather and chrome sofa, various easels, canvases draped with sheets, coffee table art books, jam jars holding brushes and charcoal, curtains of white linen dividing the space; all as remembered but in slightly the wrong places. The odd gaps I remember leaving now filled with new niknaks. 

He closed the door quietly, but firmly, behind me, slung his leather jacket on a peg and helped me out of my coat. Then he peeled off his grey cotton t-shirt, so there could be no more question or suspense. His body ripples with the honed muscles of an athlete who refuses to retire, though his chest hair is silver and his tattoos - skulls and eagle feathers - are faded. They cover his broad back and strong arms. Light glints on the bolts through each of his nipples. What had once been mere bad-boy appeal had matured something more dangerous and less defined.

It's remarkable how quickly former lovers can slip back into their old patterns. Old roles ingrained into muscle memory. Dean sat in the middle of the couch, eyes locked on me, drew his dick from his black jeans, pumped it until it stood solid, then rolled a condom down his length. I knew he did this to remove the need for conversation. One word could break the spell, remind us that this was not the world we lived in anymore. Why discuss the unfixable? Why not just pretend?

I lay on my stomach across his lap without any instruction. His hard cock nestling just beneath my own crotch. His hands began to massage my thighs and buttocks through my clothes, working into the tissue with his large solid hands. His palms pressing into the small of my back, then running over the curves of my rounded cheeks, over my thighs, then creeping to my inner leg, pushing close to my pussy. Stopping. 

Beginning again. Harder hands, rougher grasping and grabbing at my ass. Smack. A small one. His great hands rubbing and roaming, putting heat and friction into my body as they run over my ass and thighs yet again. He slaps my backside again, firmer, not painfully, but enough to leave a glow. I'm slightly wet and panting softly, until his hands finally stroke over my pussy for a fleeting moment and my juices gush through the fabric of my new red underwear. 

He goes on like this, a harder smack, a more careless caress, a more deliberate grope of my dripping pussy. I raise my ass into the air to meet his open palm. That blow leaves a real buzz of hot pain and I make a low sound. I feel his dick quake.

He slides one hand under the fabric of my shirt, his fingertips digging eagerly into the flesh of my back, tracing my spine, feeling out the vertebrae, leaving little short-lived scratches. His other hand strikes my ass again, much harder, and I am grateful for the protection of my jeans. Then he rubs and sooths my buttocks again, his big hands dissolving the pain into warmth. I keep my face hidden, buried in my folded arms on the arm of the couch as his hands now shift themselves into the depths of my jeans; roughly opening my fly and pulling the underwear aside to push to a thick callused finger into my silky wet folds. I press my swelling clit against his finger, but he draws his hands away completely. He beats me again, slapping his huge hand hard against my inner thigh so that I whimper and wince. Then the hits come thick and fast, his smacks landing on the same spot, at the top of the inside of my leg over and over again. He gives me everything he knows I can take. My creamy wetness flows like a balm over that spot, and he massages the juices into the red mark. I sigh dreamily, but still say nothing.

Before I can settle in too much though, Dean grabs me roughly by the shoulders and drags me into an upright seated position with my back to him. I gasp, as he tipps me forward, so that my breasts fall against his waiting arm, while his free hand drags all the clothing away from my body. No lazy, languid undressing here. He tears my clothes from body like meat from bones. The red lace and silk hit the floor completely unacknowledged. My body is pale, small and vulnerable beside his wrestler physique and primal hunger.

Impatient, he pulls me down to sit squarely on his waiting cock. 

My pussy is a snug fit for him, but Dean sighs with pleasure as he fills me. His hands stroke my thighs, then simply hold them apart as his hips buck up into me. His powerful body takes me by surprise as I am almost thrown from my saddle with each determined thrust. I breathe heavily as I struggle to keep up with his colossal efforts, matching the roll of my hips to his unrelenting penetration. 

I don't see his face while we fuck. 

He pulls me close against the heat of his skin, so that my back is pressed to the sweat gathering on his barrel chest. His hands grab at my swinging breasts, crushing my pink nipples between his strong fingers. I cry out, the blitz of pain spreading like lightning to my clit. I find myself slipping out of my own awareness, my body shuddering and mind becoming animal. I work to ride the thick flailing creature buried inside me. My hips grinding and my teeth gritted.

His final thrusts are sporadic and shallow, before he pulls out, on the very verge of cumming. I know what he wants next. I slide onto the floor, to wait on my knees. I gaze up into those electric blue eyes, letting myself fall victim again to their hypnotic qualities. He discards the condom, plies his throbbing dick in his big hand and positions himself over my body. I feel his eyes tracing the map of my weekend's adventures, but he doesn't say anything. 

I stretch out my torso, leaning back slightly, offering up my body to his desire. His brow drips with perspiration and his tip drips with precum. His expression shifts, sensing the moment I close my eyes. His ejaculat splatters hot and milky over my face. Splashing my soft cheek with his heat. I cautiously open my eyes again and another jet coats my neck and shoulders. His last ribbons are fired over my breasts. There's a lot of it. The white liquid drips down my arms, ribs and thighs. It hangs in pearly drops from the tips of my puckered nipples. Dean takes a moment to let his heart rate return to normal, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath. He looks.. stunning. He reclines on the couch and I crawl into his lap. 

He rests his prickly jaw against my sticky cheek and sighs with contentment. 

I can't decide what I feel.

"I'm going to go clean up," I mumble, finally breaking the routine, and with it the spell. 

But he follows me as I head to the bathroom. He catches me firmly by the arm, but holds me with his eyes. I'm shivering. Rooted to the spot.

His face is so kind, imploring me to trust him. 

"I'm not done with you Steph," he says, so softly yet with no room whatsoever to argue. He takes hold of my other arm. "You've let me miss you too long." 

Undertered by the presence of his salt on my lips, he presses his mouth hard against mine. His tongue pushing deep into my mouth. I hesitate. 

Mark loves Lilly. I think. Don't I deserve to be loved too?

And I abandon myself to the kiss.



Second Best



"Oh my God" she moaned, "What am I going to do?"

I was silent for a moment or so and then I said, "You won't do anything. Tonight never happened. When you get up in the morning treat it as a weird dream that you had. Only two people know and I won't be telling anyone and I see no reason for you to tell anyone either."

"But I cheated on Dale."

"So what? You aren't married and you haven't taken any vows of fidelity. Besides, how do you know Dale hasn't played around while he is gone for the summer? Just let it be Grace. Pretend that it never happened."

Under the circumstances I didn't try for a goodnight kiss and as I watched her walk into her house I cursed myself for telling her what I had. I could have kept quiet and maybe kept Grace for myself, but in a way I would have been lying to her if I got her that way. Besides, how would she end up feeling if she threw what she and I had done in Dale's face when he got home and then found out that he wasn't guilty as charged.

After that night Grace didn't avoid me, but she didn't go out of her way to be around me either. Dale came home and as far as I know Grace never told Dale about our evening at the motel.

+++++++++++++++++

Senior year was busy and I had so much going on that I didn't think too often about Grace. No more than two or three times a day. I dated some and I scored some, but I always ended up mentally comparing the girls I made it with to Grace and they all came up short. The only ones who held my interest with Rita Martin and Hillary. Rita was willing to suck cock as long as you were willing to eat pussy and when Rita found out that I was very willing to do it she told me that I could call her anytime and if she already had a date she would break it just to go out with me.

I did call Hillary a couple of days after her birthday party and she asked me to meet her for lunch. I met her at Anderson's Steak House and she apologized for the way she had acted after the night I had taken her cherry.

"It wasn't you Rob; it was me. I was disgusted with myself. I had promised my mother and myself that I would walk down the aisle at my wedding as a virgin. I was down on myself for giving it up to you so easily and every time you called it just reminded me of how weak I had been. But I got over it and started looking forward to doing it with you again, but you never called and that pissed me off even though I was the one who told you to stop bugging me. And then I went and made an ass of myself at Sally's party."

"So what are you trying to tell me Hill?"

"What was it that you said at my party? That when it comes to sex I sure talk a lot about it? Well, as the old saying goes, "Talk is cheap." I've taken a gamble Rob. Before meeting you here I stopped and got a room across the street at the Marriott."

She slid a room key across the table to me and then watched to see what I would do. I looked from her to the key and then back at her and then I picked the key up and said:

"What are we doing wasting time here?"

From then on I shared my time between Hillary and Rita.

+++++++++++++++++++++

Prom was coming up and I was planning on asking Rita to be my date, but one evening the front doorbell rang and my mom hollered up at me:

"Rob honey; Grace is here to see you."

We went up to my room and then Grace asked, "Do you have a date for the prom yet?"

"Not yet. I plan on asking Rita Martin."

"You haven't asked her yet?"

"No. Why do you want to know?"

"Dale broke his leg in three places yesterday and so I was going to ask you to take me."

"I'm flattered Grace, but the thing is that Rita and I have something going."

"You and a half dozen others." 

"What does that mean?"

"What it means is that on nights Rita isn't with you she is with someone else. You don't need to worry about Rita having a date for the prom. I'll bet that by now a couple of guys have asked her to be their date."

"I don't think so Grace. I'd end up in bad shape. I'd be holding you, dancing with you and that would have me remembering the last time we were on a date and I'd be praying that it would happen again and knowing that it wouldn't."

"Please Rob. No one else is going to ask me because of Dale. If you don't take me I won't be able to go. I don't want to miss the prom Robbie. Please?"

She was easily the best looking girl there and I know that a lot of guys there wished that they were me. The night went just like I knew it would. Holding Grace as we danced constantly brought back memories of what we had done and those memories kept my dick hard most of the night. I did my best to keep from poking Grace with it, but it still happened several times. 

We hit two after prom parties and then I drove us home. On the way Grace slid over next to me and put her hand on my leg.

"Let me see it Robbie. Take it out for me."

"I don't think so Grace."

"All right then, I'll do it myself" and she pulled down my zipper. As she reached in for my cock she said, "I know what you gave up to take me to the prom tonight and I want to make it up to you. You seemed to like it the last time."

I pushed her hand away and said, "No thanks Grace; I don't need charity. If you wanted me for me I'd be all for it, but I'm not interested just because you think you owe me."

I zipped myself back up, but Grace didn't slide away from me. She sat next to me with her head on my shoulder the rest of the way home. I walked her to her door and she turned and put her arms around me and kissed me.

"Thank you Rob; thanks for being who you are" and then she kissed me again and went into her house.

++++++++++++++++++++++

Grace, Dale and I all attended a local college and while we ran across each other from time to time we each had different majors so we had very few shared classes outside of some of the basics like Intro to Calculus and English Composition 121. I did see and talk to Grace from time to time - we still lived two doors away from each other - but Dale didn't go on vacations with his parents anymore so I never had a chance to date Grace again. 

In our junior year Dale proposed to Grace and she accepted and even though I'd known that some day it would happen I was crushed when it did. I went off on a two day toot that left me with a hurting head and the knowledge that it was my own fault. I could have prevented it by not telling Grace that Dale couldn't possibly be guilty of what she thought he was and letting her rub what we had done in his face when he got home. But I didn't do that so I would have to live with it.

I pined for Grace, but I knew that she would always be Dale's so I didn't bother to become a hermit where the ladies were concerned. I dated a lot, scored a reasonable amount of times and even had some relationships that lasted for several months, but I never found anyone I wanted to make things permanent with.

Graduation came and I got a job with XYZ Corporation. Grace landed a position with a local brokerage house and Dale went to work for Apollo Industries. Six months later and about two months before the wedding Apollo transferred Dale to the San Francisco office and he dropped off the radar screen. I found out later that he called Grace and had her postpone the wedding and then no one heard from him again. He never called Grace and when she called him she only got his voicemail. After three months she got on a plane and flew out to San Francisco and three days later she came home. There was no more talk of weddings and Grace, the few times I talked to her, never mentioned Dale at all.

Several months went by and then Grace and I were thrown together when Sissy Meyers and Dave Sampson got married. Grace was one of Sissy's bridesmaids and I was Dave's best man. I danced several times with Grace at the reception and just before the party broke up she came up to me and told me that she'd had too much to drink to drive safely and she asked me if I would give her a ride home. On the way to her apartment she slid over next to me and put her hand on my leg.

"Remember the last time I did this?"

"Indeed I do."

"Are you going to push my hand away this time also?"

"Is this some more of rubbing Dale's nose in it?"

She looked at me for a couple of seconds and then said, "Dale is history."

I made no move to push her hand away and she pulled my zipper down and worked my hard cock out of my pants. She lowered her head and just before she took my cock in her mouth she said:

"Don't pull it out like you did the last time. I don't have any spot mover at home and the stores are closed."

I didn't pull out -- I damned near hit a tree -- but I didn't pull out. Hours later as we lay next to each other trying to recover from three very active sessions I asked:

"How did this happen?"

She didn't have to ask what I meant and she said, "I've gone six months without what I used to get five and six nights a week. I needed this. I've only had sex with two men in my life and I didn't want to take pot luck. I wanted a known quantity and that would be you. If it had not been for Sissy's wedding I would have found some other way to make it happen."

"Any chance that this could turn into something?"

"I don't know Rob, could it?"

We started dating and six months later I asked Grace to marry me and she accepted. Four months after that we were married. I never did find out what happened between her and Dale and the one time I came right out and asked she told me that it was a subject that she wasn't prepared to discuss.

"It is a closed chapter of my life Rob and I plan on keeping it that way."

++++++++++++++++++++

We decided early on that we didn't want to have children and so I had a vasectomy so we wouldn't have to mess with birth control pills and diaphragms and the like.

The next ten years rolled by and for the most part they were good years. There was only one major problem. With no kids and both of us working we were living large. About six years into the marriage the firm that Grace was working for was bought out by another firm and when the dust all settled Grace's job was one of the ones eliminated. We needed her income if we were to maintain our lifestyle. I suggested we find a smaller house, one that we could afford on just my salary, but Grace would have none of that. She didn't want to give up anything so she sent out resumes and started going on interviews. She came home one evening and told me that she had a job offer.

"Its decent money and it has god benefits."

"I can tell from your voice that there is a "but" in there somewhere."

"It is with Apollo Industries."

"So?" I asked and then it dawned on me. "Just don't accept any transfers to San Francisco."

The next four years went by and then about three months before our fifteenth anniversary things went to hell. Along with deciding early on to have no children we also decided that we each needed a night out alone to give each other a chance to talk to other people, keep a fresh perspective and to give each other a little breathing room. My night was Monday and I bowled in the men's house league at Starlight Lanes. Grace's night was Wednesday and she spent it stopping for drinks with the people she worked with.

One night as we sucked down a couple of beers after the game Dave Sampson asked me how Grace and I were getting along.

"Okay. Why would you be asking that?"

"No reason bud, just curious."

"And why would you be curious about that?" 

"Well, she and Dale did have a thing going for eight or nine years."

"So?"

"So I was just curious as to how things have been going since he moved back to town and is working in the same office as Grace."

A cold chill went down my spine when he said that. Dale was back and working in the same office as Grace? She had not mentioned that to me. I wasn't going to let Dave know that I didn't know so all I said was that everything was fine. The next morning I called Harv Yohann who worked in shipping and receiving at Apollo and asked him how long Dale had been back and Harv told me that Dale had been back for a little over six months. Six months! Six fucking months and not one word from Grace. The chill was back sliding down my spine.

I spent all day thinking about it and human nature being what it is I naturally thought the worst. Dale's back over half a year and Grace wasn't mentioning him. Did they have something going? I thought back over the last six months and some things that I had noticed, but hadn't paid much attention too suddenly shot to the forefront of my mind. Grace's Wednesday nights had been getting later and later. She used to get home around eight-thirty or nine, but for the last several months she hadn't been getting home until ten-thirty or eleven. 

I'd always heard that one of the signs of a straying wife was an increase or decrease in sexual activity; the theory being that the decrease was because she was feeling guilty over cheating her husband and couldn't face him on the nights she had been with her lover and the increase was because she got turned on giving her husband sloppy seconds or cuckolding him.

Grace and I had always had what I considered a good healthy sex life. Three times a week on the average and if one of the times was on the weekend we sometimes made it two or three times. Our sex life had increased. Four and five times a week and always - ALWAYS - on Wednesdays and on the other nights it would usually be twice and once in a while three times. In the car she would slide over and fondle my cock and sometimes even take it out and suck on it and she hadn't done that in years. I asked her about it and she said she thought we were getting in a rut and she was trying to liven things up. I had no reason not to accept that as gospel. But that was then and this was now and now I was having doubts. I had never once given a thought to the possibility that Grace might cheat on me and God knows that I didn't want to believe she was, but I wasn't the kind to say, "Oh no! My wife would never do something like that" and ignore it. I was a believer in the old adage that "where there is smoke there is fire." I hoped that Grace wasn't playing around behind my back, but 'hope' wouldn't cut it. I had to know!

The first thing I did was check out Grace's Wednesday nights. Her group always stopped at the Landing Strip Lounge so I took my car to the dealer for service, got a loaner and was sitting in it at the back of the lot at the Strip five minutes before Grace got off work. I saw her pull into the lot and sit in her car until a red Lexus pulled in and parked beside her. Dale got out of the Lexus and Grace got out of her car, the two of them kissed briefly and then walked hand and hand into the bar. They came out of the bar at ten after ten and sat in Grace's car talking. They kissed twice - both times long and steamy - and I looked at my watch and saw that if Grace was going to be home by eleven she wouldn't be doing anything with Dale on that night so I went home. I was in bed when Grace got home at five to eleven. When she saw that I was still awake she said:

"You're up. Good, because I'm horny."

She climbed onto the bed and reached for my cock and it did what it always did when Grace reached for it - it shot up erect. She opened her mouth, took my cock inside and sealed her lips around me as her head started bobbing up and down. After a couple of minutes she took her mouth off me and asked me if I wanted to cum in her mouth or her pussy. "Pussy" I moaned and she rolled over and onto her back and spread her legs wide.

"Fuck me hard baby; fuck me hard and make me cum."

I mounted her and thrust inside her as hard as I could. Because of the blow job I was close and I only lasted about three minutes, but it was three minutes of hard, fast fucking and I did manage to give her one orgasm before I blew.

As I pulled out she pulled me down, rolled me onto my back and went down on my limp cock. She sucked my cock and played with my balls until she had me up again and then she swung over me and drove herself down on my cock. She put her hands on my shoulders and then rode me until I shot into her for the second time that night. She laid on top of me until my cock was as soft as a cooked noodle and then she rolled off of me, snuggled up against me and in minutes she was asleep.

I stared up at the ceiling and wondered if her passion was fueled by guilt; guilt over what she had done or guilt over what she was going to do.

++++++++++++++++

I checked out Grace's Wednesday nights for three weeks in a row and all I saw were Dale and my wife holding hands and kissing. It seemed that if they were doing anything it was happening at some other time. Since I could account for most of her nights and weekends it had to be either during the day when they were supposed to be at work or on the Monday nights I bowled.

I had some comp time coming so I told the boss I needed to use some of it, then I called Dave who was the captain of my bowling team and told him I was going to miss a couple of weeks and he should arrange for a substitute for me. I was parked and waiting on Monday when Grace and Dale got in Dale's car and went to lunch. I followed them to a Denny's and watched as they went inside holding hands. They came out about forty-five minutes later and sat in Dale's car talking for about five minutes and then Grace slid across the seat and they necked for another five minutes after which they went back to work.

I was parked and waiting again when they got off work that evening. They each got in their own car and I followed them to Mario's. Dale got out of his car and got into Grace's and they talked for about five minutes and then necked for ten more before getting out of the car and, holding hands, they headed for the restaurant. Two hours later they came out, got in Dale's car and necked for about fifteen minutes and then Grace got in her car and drove home. I killed another hour and then I went home at the same time I normally got home from bowling. I found Grace waiting up for me.

"Hi baby. Can I welcome you home with a blow job?"

++++++++++++++++++++++

For the next two months I spot checked Grace at her lunch time, on my bowling nights and on her Wednesday night out. She always had lunch with Dale and they went straight back to work. Dale spent Wednesday evening with her at the Landing Strip and they had dinner together on Monday nights. I never did see them doing anything other than talk, hold hands and neck. But they could have left work early and gone somewhere when I wasn't around watching. I did notice that the necking sessions were getting hotter and lasting longer as time progressed. The other constant was that Grace was damned near insatiable on Monday and Wednesday nights and I could never figure out why. Guilt over what she was doing maybe?

At the end of a couple of months it was obvious to me that, unless they had found some way to do it at work, that physically Grace had not cheated on me. But it was equally obvious to me as evidenced by the longer and hotter make out sessions that she eventually would. I spent many sleepless nights lying there in our bed and thinking about it. Confrontation was not an option for me. Confrontation would force things out into the open and I did not want that. I had to know what Grace would choose and that meant that I had to let her run free. All I could do was watch and wait and hope that she chose me. Easier said than done.

As time went by and I saw the kisses getting longer and longer it was obvious to me that Grace was making her choice and it wasn't going to be me. For me it boiled down to confrontation or just walking away. But what if confrontation made her feel guilty and she stayed with me because of that guilt? What if she stayed with me, but forever held it against me for keeping her from what she would have really preferred? There were so many of those damned "what ifs" and the bottom line was that I couldn't stay with some one who didn't want me and the longer and longer make out sessions between Grace and Dale told me that she would rather be with him than me and she just hadn't yet got to the point where it was time to tell me.




Second Best



++++++++++++++++++++++++

I looked down at the legal pad in front of me, clicked the pen to extend the point and then began writing.

"Dear Grace,

By the time you read this I will be gone. It is a difficult decision for me, but one made necessary by your actions. It is all the more difficult because you did give me the best fifteen years of my life, but I do have to say that this last year has sucked big time.

I have loved you since the eighth grade and the happiest day of my life was the day you said "I do" and I slid my ring on your finger. That happiness blinded me to one simple fact. I was second best. You made a choice when you were in the eighth grade and that choice wasn't me. I was in the background as you and Dale started your journey. True, you did occasionally turn to me, but it was only temporary because you wanted company when Dale wasn't around, but I was still only second best even though I never thought it or even considered it.

But in the last nine months you have made it clear that I was only second best. Imagine, if you will, my surprise when Dave told me that Dale was back and working in the same office as you. Imagine my surprise when I found out that he had been back and working with you for six months. You never once mentioned to me that he was back. But then you never mentioned a lot of other things either. Things like having lunch with him almost every day. Things like having dinner with him every Monday night. Things like spending your "girl's night out" with him every Wednesday night at the Landing Strip. And oh yes, not to forget that you never mentioned the kissing and hand holding that you did every time the two of you were together.

There could have been more, much more I suppose, but I never had the heart to dig any deeper than I already had. What I have already listed here was enough to crush me. I doubt I could bear knowing anything else.

I love you enough to want you to be happy so I am getting out of the way and freeing you up to go with your first choice. The house is yours. I have taken the few things that I want and the rest is yours. I have taken half of the savings and checking accounts and five of the nine certificates of deposit that were in the safe deposit box.

I am going to leave it up to you to handle the divorce.

I hope you and Dale will be happy together.

Rob

++++++++++++++++++++

The company had been asking me for over a year to move to Baltimore and take over the office there. I had always turned them down because Grace and I were settled in and happy where we were. However, given the circumstances vis a vis Grace and Dale I no longer wanted to stay in town and I told my boss I would take the transfer.

I told the receptionist that I was getting divorced and that if Grace called not to tell her that I had transferred to Baltimore and then to tell her that she had been directed to not take any more of Grace's calls. I cancelled my cell phone service, signed up with a new provider and got a new phone number and then headed for Baltimore.

I was in Baltimore almost five weeks before Grace found out where I was. One morning my secretary rang me on the intercom and told me that I had a call on line 3. I picked up the phone and said:

"This is Rob."

"You are a hard man to find."

"Apparently not hard enough. What do you want Grace?"

"We need to talk Rob."

"No we don't Grace. It is -- what did you call it when I asked you about what happened between you and Dale all those years ago -- "A closed chapter in my life and I plan on keeping it that way?" That is where things are now Grace. It is a closed chapter."

"You don't understand Rob. What you saw isn't what you thought it was."

"Grace, there is no doubt that what I saw is exactly what I saw. Nice talking with you Grace. Bye."

I punched the button on the intercom and told Marge not to take any more calls from Grace and she laughed. "You have bigger problems than that boss. Apparently she called on her cell from here inside the building. Unless you plan on jumping out your fourth floor window to leave your office you will have to come out your office door and she is sitting right here."

I sighed and said, "You might as well send her in."

The door opened and Grace walked in and seeing her took my breath away. She was still the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. As she closed the door behind her I said:

"Why are you here Grace? What do you want?"

"You."

"What happened? Dale bail out on you?"

"Dale was never in a position to bail out on me. If you had taken the time to talk to me you would have known that."

"If I had taken the time to talk to you? The talk should have happened a year ago and it should have gone something like this. "Hey honey, guess what? Dale just moved back to town and he will working in my office with me." But that isn't what happened is it Grace? He was back six months before I heard about it and even then it wasn't from you. Then there were three more months without a word from you, and God knows I got nothing from you on what you were doing with Dale for those nine months. No Grace, don't you dare come in here and hit me with that I should have talked with you shit! You had nine months to talk to me and you never said a goddamned word. Now, why are you here?"

"I need your address and a key so I can move my stuff in."

"Move your stuff in?"

"Yes Rob, move my stuff in. You live here now and I'm your wife so I need to move here too. I quit my job, put the house up for sale and here I am."

"I don't understand. What about you and Dale?"

"There is no me and Dale. There never was a me and Dale. If you had come to me when you found out what you found out and had asked me what was going on I would have told you. The reason I never told you that Dale was back and in my office was that I was afraid that if you knew I wouldn't be able to do what I wanted to do. Our being there in the same office would have had an effect on your feelings and attitudes and knowing my past with Dale would have had an impact on what you thought.

"You are human Rob, and it would have been human nature for you to wonder and worry and some things might have happened that you might have read the wrong way. You might have gone looking for Dale to remind him that I wasn't his any more. You might have started stopping by my office more often or started coming down to the Strip on Wednesdays and I didn't want that. I needed to be able to go after Dale without any interference."

"You aren't making any sense here Grace. First you say that there was never was a Dale and you and now you are saying that you needed to be able to go after him without me getting in the way. From what I saw Grace, you got him. Or were all those necking sessions' just figments of my imagination?"

"No Rob, they weren't, and that's when you should have come to me and asked me just what I was doing."

"And that would have been?"

"Getting even Rob. Getting back at that asshole."

"Those were some pretty hot make out sessions with some one you think of as an asshole."

"Well he was an asshole Rob. Actually he still is an asshole. What else would you call someone who deliberately sets out to seduce another man's wife?" 

"This conversation is not making any sense at all Grace. First there is no Dale and you and then it is I need to be kept in the dark so you could go after Dale. Next, he is an asshole, but I saw you in some pretty steamy make out sessions with the asshole and that is just what I saw. I have no idea of what went on that I didn't see, but nothing you have said so far adds up."

"I didn't do anything else Rob."

"That's what you say Grace, but given the circumstances I have no reason to believe you. In fact, I have every reason to doubt whatever you tell me. But that is neither here nor there. Right now I am at work and I have things to do so I don't have time for this."

"Fine. Give me your address and a key. I'll have dinner waiting when you get home and we can talk over dinner and a bottle of wine."

"I don't think so Grace. I made a clean break when I left. I said all I had to say in the letter that I left you. If you want to talk I'll give you that, but not at my place. There is a restaurant just down the street and I'll meet you there when I get off at five-thirty. I'll listen to what you have to say, but based on your actions of the past year don't be surprised if I don't believe much of what you say. Now if you will excuse me I really do have to get back to work."

She sat there and looked at me for several seconds and then she got up and left. As I watched the door close behind her I wondered what it was that she really wanted? The fact that she found me wasn't surprising because so many of our mutual acquaintances knew where I was, but why did she bother? I gave her what she wanted. I left and gave her and Dale a clear field.

Grace was sitting in a booth when I got to the restaurant and as I slid in across from her Albert, our waiter, asked me, "The usual Mr. Roberts?"

"Yes Albert, thank you."

"Still drinking vodka tonics with a twist of lime" Grace asked.

"Some things don't change."

Grace was silent for a couple of seconds and then said, "Why did you leave me a letter instead of just talking to me?"

"Why talk? I wouldn't have believed anything you would have said."

"I've never lied to you Rob."

"Sure you have Grace. You lied to me for nine months. Not outright maybe, but what you were doing behind my back was a lie. A lie of omission rather than commission, but a lie none the less."

"Even if you did feel that way you still should have talked to me instead of sneaking away."

"You can call it sneaking away if you like, but I left without facing you because I didn't think I could bear the pain of seeing the joy in your eyes when I set you free to be with Dale. I set you free Grace so you could be with Dale. Now, why are you here?"

"I'm here because this is where you are. That little matter of "till death do you part" that we agreed to eleven years ago."

"What about the "hold only unto you" part or are vows selective in your eyes?"

"I held to that part too Rob. There was nothing going on between Dale and me except in Dale's mind. I didn't tell you about Dale being back because I knew that you would never go along with what I wanted to do. You probably would have understood why I wanted to do it, but human nature would have gotten in the way of your letting me do it. There wasn't any way that you would have let me spend as much time with Dale as I needed without starting to worry that instead of my getting revenge I might end up back with Dale. You would wonder if I was really doing what I said I was or was I just using the revenge story as cover to be with Dale. Human nature Rob; no one is immune to it."

"Revenge? Revenge for what?"

"You remember when I flew out to San Francisco? Well, I didn't tell Dale I was coming. I found him shacked up with a big titted blonde. I asked her who she was and she told me that she was Dale's fiancée. I noticed that she wasn't wearing a ring and I commented on it and she told me that they just hadn't gotten around to picking it out yet. I took mine off and handed it to her, spit in Dale's face and came home. I carried a lot of anger around with me when I got home. Nine years of my life were spent believing that Dale and I were forever and then I found out that I had been replaced in less than three months. I buried my anger and then got on with my life.

"Then Dale came back. I saw him get out of his car from my office window and the sight of him brought all that buried anger back and I started thinking of ways that I could get back at him. I knew he was an arrogant asshole and I knew that as soon as he saw me he would try to convince me that the big titted bimbo was a mistake and that he was sorry and so forth and that's when I decided to stick it to him."

"And you couldn't tell me that?"

"No I couldn't. I was going to let him think that he could seduce me. I was going to lead him on and send him home with blue balls every chance I got and I knew that you would never go along with it so I never told you that he was back."

"And I'm supposed to believe that this seduction took nine months and that for nine months all you did was make out?"

"No Rob. In the first place it didn't go on for nine months. It was three weeks before Dale even knew that I worked there and when he came back he didn't come to my department. It was three and a half months before he started working in my office. Once he found out that I was there it took him three months before I was even civil to him and then another month and a half before I agreed to have lunch with him. He did know where we stopped on Wednesday nights for drinks and he started stopping, but I wouldn't have anything to do with him. I knew that he would keep trying so I made him work for it. I ignored him until he got me to have that first lunch with him.

"It went just as I knew it would. He'd made a big mistake. It was just that I had been the only one in his life and he wondered what other women were like and blah, blah, blah. By the time he realized that I was the one all along it was too late; I'd found out and walked out on him. He'd thought of me every day since and could I ever forgive him and on and on and on. After that first lunch it was two weeks before I let him dance with me at the bar and then after a couple of more lunches I agreed to have dinner with him on a Monday night.

"I let him think that he was slowly winning me over and we had just reached the light kissing and hand holding stage when you apparently found out that he was back. I'm guessing that is when you started watching to see what was going on."

"And all of that was supposed to be leading where?"

"He thought he was going to get me to cheat on you and I let him think that it might happen."

"Go on."

"I let the necking get gradually hotter and hotter. I let him play with my covered boobs and I let him get a hand up my dress a couple of times. I let him get as far as being able to touch my pussy through my panties with a finger before pushing his hand away. I even rubbed his erection through his trousers a couple of times. I kept saying no, that it wouldn't be right, that I was married and couldn't, but I never said it forcefully enough to drive him away. I led him on and on and I would have liked another month to mess with him, but I came home one night to find your letter and that changed everything. I needed to put him down right away and get to work on finding you. The night after I got your letter I nailed him."

"You nailed him?"

"I told him that you went out of town on business and that I couldn't fight the attraction anymore. I told him that I missed him and his strong arms and then I told him to get a motel room and call me with the room number and I would meet him there. Then I drove over to 12th Street and paid one of the street walkers to go meet him at the room. I told her that when he asked who she was she was to tell him that I had changed my mind and that I just couldn't see cheating on my husband with a guy who had a small cock, but that I'd felt guilty over making him pay for a room so I sent her instead.

"The next day he came into the office livid and before he could say anything I told him to fuck off and leave me alone or I'd file a sexual harassment complaint against him. Then I started looking for you."

"And I'm supposed to believe all of this?"

"Why not? It is all true. Think about it Rob. You were watching me so you know that I didn't do anything except make out with Dale. You could account for all of my time when I was at work, at the bar, at lunch time and on Monday nights and all the rest of the time I was with you. When could I have done anything else? Add to that the fact that the more time I spent with the asshole the more I appreciated what I had in you and that appreciation led to a renewed and very active sex life for us. You were way wrong in your letter Rob. Yes, you were second choice, but you were never second best Rob - never!"

I sat there looking at her and I wanted to believe her, but I still had doubts. True, I didn't see her do anything but kiss and hold hands, but then I really didn't watch her full time. After the first two weeks of watching I only checked on her at lunch time maybe one day out of five. Did I know what she did on the other four? I only watched her have dinner with Dale on a Monday four times and true, she did nothing but hold hands and kiss while I was watching, but what of the other nights when I wasn't there watching? Same with Wednesdays. I know what I saw on the nights I watched, but what about the others? Did I know that on the nights I wasn't watching they didn't go to the Strip, but went somewhere else?

What about the time she wasn't at work and was at home. Did she really go shopping when she left the house for four or five hours? When she left at eleven on Saturday to get her hair and nails done did I know that she didn't also squeeze in a visit with Dale and do him before she came home? I wanted to believe what she told me, but the doubts were there and she had planted those doubts when she hid from me the fact that Dale was back.

I told Grace what I'd just been thinking and then said, "Once you plant doubt it never goes away. It will sit in the back of your mind and just wait for something to trigger it. I don't know that I can live like that Grace. I've loved you for what seems like forever. I loved you enough to want you to be happy so I got out of the way so you and Dale could go forward. But I don't know that I love you enough to spend the rest of my life living with doubts. Something happens and you are a few hours late coming home and doubt is going to go to work and make me think "I wonder if she is with Dale." It won't matter what you tell me the cause was, I will still have had the thought. Phone calls with no one saying anything when I pick up will have me wondering if it was Dale. I get those kinds of calls now even living alone and they don't matter at all, but they will if we get back together and all because you didn't tell me about Dale.

"You leave the house to go shopping and when you come home I'll be looking at what you bought and thinking, "Did it really take her as long as she was gone to get that much or was some of the time spent doing something else and maybe with Dale." That isn't me Grace. That isn't the man I was before Dale came back, but that is the man I might become thanks to the doubt that you have planted in my mind. I really don't know that I can live like that Grace."

Grace reached across the table and took my hand in hers. "I'll just have to make damned sure that I don't do anything to wake that doubt up. I want you Rob. I need you. I need to be with you and I'll do whatever I have to do to prove it, but I guess I'm going to have to give you some time to think about it." 

Dinner arrived and we ate in silence and when all the plates were cleared off the table and we had finished our coffee she reached for her purse. 

"I need to find me a room for the night. Where is the closest motel?"

I was going to tell her where the Quality Inn was, but at the last second I said, "You can stay at my place."

She followed me to my apartment and when we were inside I told her to take the bedroom and I'd take the couch. "Nonsense" she said, "This is your home. I'll take the couch" and I didn't argue with her.

++++++++++++++++++++++++

The bed shifted and it woke me up and I started to sit up, but an arm went across my chest and Grace's voice came at me out of the darkness.

"Relax baby, it is just me." She snuggled up next to me and said, "This is where I'm supposed to be baby; this is where I need to be."




Second Best



She kissed my shoulder and minutes later I heard the relaxed, easy breathing that told me that she had fallen asleep. I laid there looking up at the ceiling and thinking:

"This feels right. This just feels so right" and I drifted off to sleep.



Second Blowjob, Same Fun



After my previous experience, I never thought I'd do it again. While I enjoyed the sensation, the act and process didn't please me. However, after talking with him for a while, he convinced me to do it one more time. In addition to just doing it again, there were a lot of other changes in store for the evening.

Instead of me picked him up again, we were able to do it at his house. The rest of his family was gone for the evening, so we had the place to ourselves. He called me when his parents and brother had all left, and I came over right away. No time was wasted by him as he kissed me the second he opened the front door. We skipped any foreplay in the living room and he escorted me upstairs straight to his bedroom.

Once in the room, and without even closing the bedroom door, we immediately removed our pants. He was making me hard again rubbing my dick with his hand first outside, then inside my boxers. He was quite antsy and before I was even hard he was going to town with his tongue. After he got me erect, I pulled him off as I didn't want to cum too soon, so we turned to him.

Since his pants were already off, his penis had sprung through his boxers while exciting me. We were making out and rubbing his cock, but almost immediately I mounted him and we were rubbing dicks together. I also sucked on his tits as if he was a woman, and that part he loved the most.

He was moaning and sweating when all of a sudden I thought I heard someone inside, so we stopped right away. He quickly got up and went to check if his parents or brother were back early. I found it quite funny that he left still stark naked with his giant 9" cock standing at attention. When he got back after discovering that the voices were coming from the sidewalk outside, we were both pretty flaccid, which meant one thing, he needed to go to work on me again.

He tackled my tits with his tongue which was nice, but not as nice as him on my head. This time it didn't take me long to get hard, and I didn't stop him from going all the way with his mouth. As I felt my cum building, I told him but as he took his mouth off to tell me to hold it for a while, it was already too late. I pushed his face back down on my dick and came all inside his mouth. He wanted me to resist for longer, but enjoyed my man juices anyways.

Now that I was taken care of and we needed to wrap it up, he wanted to do something new with me, in addition to cumming. One of the things we talked about while he was convincing me to do it again was a golden shower. I had seen pornos of it, and every time it turned me on watching them getting pissed on. As long as I didn't need to receive, since we didn't have time to shower and dry off before leaving, I agreed. We stepped into their shower and he kneeled at the base of my feet waiting for my warm, golden stream. We needed to wait a little bit though because my cock was still almost it's full 7" even following blowing my load.

Once I softened up, I started peeing all over his body. He had a total twink body. He was thin but athletic, shaved everywhere, and did I mention his 9" long and really thick meat of a penis? While I stood there waiting to get less horny, he had a look as if he was starving and my piss would be his sustenance. I started with his abs and chest and then moved up to his neck and face. There, he opened his mouth and blissfully received my urine, filling up his mouth. As it started to overflow down his cheeks, I went back to his body and even aimed right for his still rock solid dick. When I was fully emptied, he swallowed and blew me enough to make me hard again.

He still needed to cum though, so while in the shower, we went back to making out and doing everything we were doing before, now with his massive throbbing cock in my hand. His lips tasted like my pee, but I had tried it before and didn't mind. In fact, I somehow got adventurous and even licked, but not blew, his dick clean of my fluids before standing back up. In order for him to bust, he needed to take control of my hand and really work his shaft. Several minutes later he exploded, but this time on my chest instead of his like last time. It seemed as if he came on me on purpose so that he could lick up more cum. As his tongue worked up and down my stomach, I started to cum a little more, which he of course took care of in delight.

That was the last I would see of his mega-dick as we left his bathroom and went back to his bedroom to reclothe. We slid our boxers back up from their place on the floor while I put all my clothes on as well. We kissed a little bit more with him rubbing my crotch through my pants which made me semi-hard yet again. Finally I put my socks and shoes on and left. My dick sure liked being sucked dry, but I think it's time I find a female friend to show me what a girl's mouth can do to my eager cock.