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Something Special

By: Sannion



With excitement you start up your computer, wondering if the letter I promised you will be there. A slight tingle spreads through your body when you spot my e-mail, and you pass over all of the rest of your mail to open mine first. 

It's empty. Nothing written on it. You look quizzically at it, then scan the rest of your mail. Nothing else from me. Your disappointment is palpable, and you begin to write me a note, asking what's up with the letter. 

That's when you feel a ghost-light touch on your neck, brushing your hair to the side, and then my lips as I kiss your neck. You grip the arm of your chair harder, closing your eyes, as I kiss my way down your neck, and across your shoulder, pushing down the loose shirt you're wearing. Then I turn your chair around, and you look up into my smiling face. "How did you... I thought you lived... I mean... "

My finger goes up to your lips, stopping your words, and I whisper, "I told you it would be special."

Then I go down on one knee in front of you, my hands roaming lightly over your thighs. Your breath catches as my fingers find the elastic band of your panties, and I begin sliding them down, making you lift your ass up momentarily. As I tug your panties down across your knees, and then off of your ankles, you squirm in your seat, and I can tell that you are already getting wet. Your womanly scent fills my nostrils, as I lean forward to kiss your mound. My beard tickles you as my lips move up your belly in a trail of soft kisses and licks that leads to the swell of your breasts. I've pushed your shirt up until your breasts come free, and I kiss each one, flicking my tongue against your nipple, and then sucking it into my mouth for a couple moments. Then the shirt is lifted over your head and arms, and I'm kissing your neck and shoulders again. I rise up to kiss your mouth, pressing my body against yours, the coarse material of my shirt grazing your nipples, making them hard, as I suck on your full, beautiful lips and explore your mouth. Your breath is getting harder when I finally break the kiss, and go back down to one knee.

My hands grab your hips, and scoot you down, so your ass and pussy are hanging over the seat. You gasp, and bite your lip, looking down at me, as I kiss your knees, working my way along your thighs until I reach the damp copse of your sex. The springy curls of hair are glistening with juices, and my tongue flicks out to catch a couple errant drops. Mmm... you taste so good, and my tongue continues playing over your mound, until it finds the plump lips of your sex. My tongue teases you, rolling lazily along the outside of your lips, darting occasionally between them, but only enough to suggest what's to come. Then my hand moves under your leg, lifting it up to the arm rest, so that you are now spread open before me. 

The delicate flower of your sex parts for me, and I kiss down the sensitive underside of your legs, until I come to the juncture of your thighs. My mouth closes around your pussy, letting my thick tongue explore your folds. You whimper as it grazes your slit, licking from the cheeks of your ass up to the part of your lips, then back down in long, lazy strokes. My tongue enters you, pushing open your lips, making you whimper and squirm. You raise one of your hands to your mouth, biting down on your thumb to stop your cries as my tongue rubs the walls of your sex, tightly grapping the remaining arm rest with the other hand. My tongue wriggles inside you like a plump eel or a tiny wet cock, lapping up your juices as they begin to flow out of your body, and into my curly beard. 

Somehow my knowing tongue finds all of those sensitive parts of your body, drawing noises from you as if I were playing an instrument. Until now, I've ignored your clitoris completely. My tongue finds it, coaxing it out from its hood, rubbing its sensitive head, and then closing my mouth on it. When my lips come into contact with it, you cry out, and your hands shoot down to my head, grasping my hair, tugging it hard. Your breaths are ragged, and your back is arched, your breasts heaving as my tongue worships your cunt. You cum violently, driving your hips forward, riding my tongue, as your pussy quivers, and your juices flow, and I drink them all up. You can't see. Your eyes flutter back as the orgasm rises up from your belly, and you clamp your eyes shut, tortured cries rising from your throat.

When you finally regain your breath, you feel an absence between your thighs. You open your eyes, and look around the room, but you are alone once more, the room feeling suddenly dark and empty in a way it hadn't been twenty minutes before. A small grin spreads across your lips, and you ask, "How in the hell did he do that?" but the only answer is the low hum of the computer on your desk.

Something Special



From about the age of thirteen Bret became increasingly aware of his mother's straitened financial circumstances. 

His father, Gregory, had worked for a large export company and had been busily climbing the promotional ladder. One day he chanced to be passing a bank when two masked men rushed out carrying bags and shotguns. Bravely, if unwisely, Gregory tried to intervene and received a fatal shot gun blast in the face. 

He was twenty nine when he died and he left little in the way of assets to Prudence his young wife: a house burdened with a mortgage; furniture and a car still being paid for, and a small amount of money in an investment fund.

Prudence, being an exceptionally attractive young woman might easily have married again even though it meant taking on a young boy along with her, but she elected not to remarry.

As Prudence said, "Gregory was the love of my life," and that meant she was unwilling to take on anyone else. 

Whether over the years following Gregory's death Prudence had any lovers is not known. If she did she was very circumspect and certainly Bret knew nothing of any such amorous activates. 

She had married young and before she was really trained for any particular work. She struggled on for some years picking up jobs cleaning or as a waitress, until she finally landed a job which she vaguely described as "Customer Service." It was after she started the latter job that things picked up a little financially.

Bret was an affectionate and caring son, and as he became aware of things financial he offered to try and pick up part time jobs to help out with the money. Prudence accepted this offer but only if it didn't interfere with his studies. The jobs he got were poorly paid and mainly with fast food outlets. 

Despite the improvement in their financial circumstances when Bret went to university the expense meant that money became tight again, and Bret offered to drop out of university and get a full time job. Prudence would not have this, and talked about his education and preparing himself for a well paid profession.

* * * * * * * *

One day during his first year at university Bret was talking over the financial situation with his close friend Arny. 

Arny listened for a while and then said, "You're a fool to be working for the pittance those fast food people pay."

"What else is there?" Brett asked, "I'm not trained for anything else, so what do you suggest?"

Arny grinned and said, "Do you ever see me short of money?"

"Well no, but I thought your parents..."

"Not at all," Arny interrupted, "They think I make some money doing the sort of jobs you do. If they knew what I really do they'd go crazy."

"What?"

"If I tell you, keep your mouth shut."

Bret was intrigued so he said, "Promise."

"I fuck women."

"You what?"

"I fuck women and get paid for doing it."

"You're kidding me."

"No, that's how I make money."

"You mean you're a gigolo...that old women pay..."

"No, no, nothing like that. You know those erotic videos and films you can watch on the internet?"

"Yes."

"So who do you think does the performing?"

"You mean...?"

"Yes, that's just what I mean. If you're able to get it up easily, then you get to fuck some good looking girls. There are plenty of girls around here working their way through college letting guys like me fuck them in front of a video camera."

"Arny," Bret gasped.

"No need to be shocked Bret. I make a lot more money that you do."

"But fucking a lot of sluts..."

"Sluts nothing," Arny replied, "some of them are nice middleclass church going women with a husband and kids, just secretly making a bit of extra money or having a good time; or both," he added with a grin. "Everybody wins: I get to fuck sexy women; the women enjoy it; we both get paid; the boss gets people to sign up on the internet site; and the internet customer gets to masturbate while he or she looks at me doing the real thing."

"You mean those things you can see on the internet aren't faked?"

Arny shrugged, "Some might be, but our boss demands the real thing, and what's wrong with that. You do a bit of kissing, suck her nipples and lick her cunt, and you often get your cock sucked then you get to stick your cum in her. Mostly we wear condoms, but the older women often like it without an overcoat on; it's great."

There was silence for nearly a minute while Bret tried to digest what Arny had said. Then Arny went on, "You're a nice looking guy, just the sort the boss is looking for, I might be able to get you in...can you get a hard on fairly quickly?"

It was a bane of Bret's life that he could not only get a "hard on" quickly, he was constantly plagued with embarrassing erections. 

Seeing his hesitation Arny said, "Okay, if you're content to get a few lousy dollars for serving garbage fine, but I can make in an hour what you get in a week and enjoy doing it, still, if you're satisfied..."

"I'm not satisfied, but if I did decide to give it a try, there's no contract...I mean, if I don't like it I don't have to go on doing it, do I?"

Arny laughed, "No, you don't have to go on doing it, the boss wouldn't want to have an unwilling worker in this sort of job."

"And you think you could get me in?"

"Well, we can try. What about if I take you there this evening and the boss can have a look at you?"

And so the arrangement was made for Arny to pick up Bret and drive him (in his expensive car) to what Arny called, "The Studio."

* * * * * * * *

The Studio proved to be an old but well kept house in a "desirable suburb," as a house agent might say. This was less of a surprise than "the boss."

The boss was not, as Bret had anticipated, a sinister looking male, but a very attractive looking woman in her forties. She had no modesty regarding her assets. The cleavage between her large breasts was well on display, and the slinky dress she wore was slit along one side to reveal shapely thighs. 

Initially she spoke about Bret to Arny as if Bret wasn't there.

"You've told him what the job entails?"

"Yes."

"Can he get it up easily?"

"He says so." 

"Have you told him I pay well, but I want action, value for money?" 

"Not in so many words, Aimee."

"I'd better have a look at him."

At last she recognized Bret's presence as she said, "Not bad looking, come with me."

Arny grinned as Bret followed Aimee down a short passage and into a room whose sole furnishing was the largest divan Bret had ever seen. 

"There'll be no camera running this time," she said coolly, but when there's the real action you'll have to cope with close ups as well as long shots, okay?"

"Yes," Bret replied doubtfully.

"Strip off then."

"Now?"

"Yes, now. I've got to have a look at you, and it's no use if you're too frightened to strip off because you'll be naked a lot of the time if you work for me."

Bret stripped off, but he was so nervous that his penis remained flaccid.

"Sorry," he said, but I can't..."

"That's okay," Aimee said, "it often happens like that, it's the equivalent of an actor's opening night nerves. Take a look at this and see if it helps."

Aimee's dress seemed, as if of its own volition, to slide down her body, coming to rest at her feet. Her breasts were naked and her panties seemed to consist of strands of thin material.

Bret felt his testes start to tingle and his penis began to rise.

Aimee came close to him, her naked body pressed against him, and her mouth seemed to engulf his as she kissed him and moved her pubis over his rising manhood. 

"It's easy, isn't it?" she said seductively. 

Her tongue began to explore his mouth as she continued to writhe against him. As she broke from the kiss she whispered, why don't I lie on the divan while you suck my nipples?

She lay on the divan, drawing Bret beside her, and placing her hand under one huge breast she raised it invitingly, its large pink nipple seeming to fill Bret's vision entirely as he closed his mouth over it and sucked.

Aimee's hand wandered down to his penis, and taking hold of it she exclaimed, "My God boy, you've got a monster, we'll be able to get some wonderful shots of that."

As Bret continued to enjoy her nipple she drew his hand down to her cunt; it was hot and moist. 

"I haven't been fucked today, so why don't you fuck me?"

As Bret came between her now spread legs she murmured, "Nothing fancy this time, just come in me."

His penis slipped into a warm, wet, silky environment as Aimee moaned, "Oh yes...yes...you are big...I haven't...oh my God..."

Bret was at boiling point, and quickly he speeded up until with one powerful jolt he shot his first ejection of sperm into her, and then with slow deliberate thrusts he emptied his testes in her vagina.

Aimee seemed to be frantic, crying out, "Yes...yes...don't stop...don't stop...oh Jesus...Jesus..."

Gradually her cries diminished and finally she moaned, "What have you done to me, I hardly ever have orgasms these days?" Then in a very businesslike tone she added, "Yes, you'll do very nicely, I might even make use of you again myself."

Thoughtfully she stroked his now diminishing although still impressive phallus. "Yes, you've really got a big one; I think my ladies are going to enjoy you. I'll show you the showers now, I like my boys and girls to be hygienic, and I might even take a shower with you."

The shower proved to be something of another test for Bret, Aimee trying to determine what his recovery rate was. She was not disappointed because Bret took her standing up in the shower.

The examination over they dressed and went back to where Arny was waiting. 

"He'll do, Arny," Aimee said, and turning to Bret asked, "When can you come in for work?"

There now ensued a discussion about timetables, and this over Bret and Arny left.

Outside Arny said, "My God, what were you doing, you were in there for ages?"

"She wanted me to have sex with her, so I did."

"What!" exclaimed Arny, my God, you must have something special. All she normally does is take the guy or girl in there, have them strip off so she can see how they look; what have you got?"

"She said I have a big one, and by the way, we did it twice."

"I shouldn't have brought you along," Arny said dolefully, "you might put me out of a job."

And so Bret's career in erotic video and film making began.

* * * * * * * *

Arny had been right about the job satisfaction, the pay was good and the girls quite attractive. 

He quickly learned that the room in which Aimee had examined him was not the only location; there was a kitchen and a bedroom and even a summer house in the garden in which various sex scenes were filmed. 

Bret thoroughly enjoyed his work, but he did have some doubts about the final products, the videos.

The problem usually lay in the close-ups. It was necessary to get close-ups of him licking the girl's genitals, and then they had to get into the right position when he penetrated her vagina so the camera could film the action clearly. This often involved some rather athletic contortions.

He often found the action as directed by Aimee to be stilted; one scene did not flow into the other. For example, at one moment he might be sucking a nipple and the next he was licking the girl's genitals without any continuity between one action and the next.

When he looked at the finished product he often found the sound to be of poor quality. The moans, groans, squeals and sobbing were often muffled, and at times altogether missing. 

Bret also aroused some jealousy among the other male performers because Aimee often took him for her private gratification, and to make matters worse, the girls voiced there preference for him as a partner.

In addition his rate of recovery seemed to be greater than that of most of his male colleagues, and this enabled him to work for longer hours and consequently he got better paid.

Sometimes he had to appear in orgies and even rape scenes, and the girls tried to manoeuvre so that it was his penis first in their vagina.

On the whole, however, Bret took pleasure in his work, and his erections that had once been a burden to him, now occurred less frequently at awkward times, seeming to reserve themselves for his working hours. 

His sudden access to money, which he was unable to hide from Prudence, aroused her curiosity. 

Bret had always been honest a truthful with her and it hurt him to have to tell her a lie, but he knew she would be appalled if he told her the truth. Instead he told her he had been promoted at the takeaway place he was supposed to be working at.

After a couple of months working for Aimee Bret felt that he knew most of the regular models. Many of them were students and tended to leave when they finished their university course and went off to their chosen professions. New ones who had passed Aimee's examination joined the group, but there was a hardcore, mainly of older women, who stayed.

These older women usually appeared in incest videos, either with a pretended son, daughter, niece or nephew. There were also some older men who played incestuous fathers or uncles.

Bret had not been used in these incest scenes, and he was not altogether sure he wanted to, but inevitably his turn came.

* * * * * * * *

One evening on his arrival Aimee said to him, "I've got something special for you tonight. It's an incest scene and I'm sure you'll enjoy it. I'm using a lady who I don't think you've met, but she's especially attractive and I want all the sincerity you can muster."

She paused for a moment looking at Bret and then went on, "You know the rules Bret, no getting involved, no falling in love and that sort of nonsense. One of the problems I've had with this lady is that the guys I've put with her tend to fall for her. She's something special, and as well as being sexy, she comes from a very respectable background, church and all that. That comes across and the guys seem to like it, so be careful because I don't want to fire you for getting involved."

Bret grinned. He'd fucked so many females by then he felt that he was impervious to the nonsense of falling in love, especially since it was to be an incest scene, and that would mean she was an older woman, and older women had never been his choice. 

"Come on," Aimee said, "I'll introduce you."

They went to the room where Aimee had initially examined Bret. On entering he noticed that the divan had been pushed against the wall and at one end a woman was sitting. The floodlights had not been turned on and the room was dim. It was the woman who was the first to react; she stood and gasped, "Oh no." 

Bret's eyes adjusted to the light, and he gasped.

"Prudence, this is Bre...hey what's the matter with you two, you look as if you've seen a ghost?"

"Nothing...nothing," Prudence gasped, looking desperately at Bret, "I was just surprised, he's...he's...so...er...so good looking."

"Yes he is, isn't he," Aimee chuckled. You two should get on well together, I want plenty of sincerity. I'll leave you for a couple of minutes to get to know each other."

Aimee left, and as the door closed Bret burst out, "Mother...what...?"

Prudence clamped her hand over his mouth and said, "Don't darling, please don't say anything to Aimee, I need this job and if she thought we..."

Bret pushed her hand away and said vehemently, "You work here, you actually work here, how could..." 

"You work here too Bret, so..."

"But it's different, you're my mother..."

"There's not time to explain, Aimee will be back in a minute, just go through with it darling, please, and we'll talk later...please..."

"But we can't mother..."

"Sssh, don't call me mother, Aimee might hear and I don't...please...pretend I'm someone else...one of Aimee's other people..."

"But I...we can't have..."

"Quiet darling, she's coming back."

A smiling Aimee entered with another woman, Muriel the camera operator. 

"Well I hope you two are getting along okay. Most times it doesn't matter too much but for this one I want some real feeling to come across. Okay...er...Bret take your jacket off, trousers and shirt are what I want."

"Now Prudence...ah yes that skirt and blouse are fine. Does the blouse unbutton at the back or...ah yes, I see, down the front, that's good. You're just wearing panties and bras underneath?"

"Just panties and no bras," Prudence replied.

"Good, you don't need bras anyway; now we'll go through the first scene and then take it one scene at a time. There's no script so just say what seems appropriate. Now here's the first scene."

"You Bret are a student, very serious. You're sitting on the divan...that's right sit down...trying to read. Here's a book for you."

She handed him a thick volume and Bret saw the title, "The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire." 

Now you're not able to concentrate properly because you've just broken up with your girl friend and are feeling depressed and very horny. 

"That's a bit of a contradiction, Aimee," Bret interrupted. "I don't think you feel horny when you're depressed."

"Well all right, you're not exactly horny but you're hankering for the girl friend or...or some girl, okay?

"Okay," Bret mumbled.

"You Prudence, are his mother. You understand how Bret is feeling and want to do something to help him feel better. You've been deserted...no cancel that. Your husband has been killed in a road accident some years before and you've lived the life of a virtuous nun ever since. But you're really quite a sexy woman and you haven't had sex ever since the death. All right so far?"

"Yes," Prudence muttered.

You've been sexually attracted to Bret for some time, and now he's without any sex partner, so you see your chance and take it. 

"You come in the door and see Bret moping over the book. You sit beside him and take his hand and say...well say whatever you feel, okay?"

"Mmm," Prudence mumbled.

"For God's sake you two, you look as if you're going to be hanged. You're two attractive people who are going to have sex with each other, so try and look as if...look, I want this one to be special and I'm prepared to give you a ten percent bonus if you get it right, okay?" 

Prudence and Bret looked at each other, nodded and said, "Okay."

"Right, let's run that. Are you ready Muriel?"

"Fine," the camera operator replied, turning on some floodlights.

"We'll take this one as a long shot. Right, positions everybody, and Prudence, enter in your own time, but don't make it too long."

Aimee withdrew behind the camera operator and Prudence left the room. Bret sat pretending to read.

"Roll," Aimee said.

There was a pause, and Prudence entered, and stood gazing at Bret. It looked as if she was contemplating whether she dared to make a move on her son, which was in fact the case, but not for the reasons Aimee thought. 

As if making up her mind Prudence crossed to Bret and sat beside him. He glanced at her and then went back to reading. Prudence took his hand and whispered something in his ear. He looked at her sharply.

What she said was, "We've got to go through with this," but it was inaudible to Aimee. Prudence kissed Bret on the cheek.

"Cut," Aimee and said, "That was fine, I liked the whisper and the kiss, and you really looked like a loving mother who wants to make her boy happy."

"Now you Bret are startled by what Prudence has whispered, and you look up at her - by the way, what did you whisper?"

"That's my secret," Prudence said.

"Well it looked good anyway. Now when Bret looks at you kiss him on the lips, not too sexy, just a gentle loving kiss -- you're looking for his reaction - you put your hand on his thigh. Do that, ready, roll."

They followed instructions and Aimee said it looked like the real thing.

"Now Bret, your mother has put her hand on your thigh. You love her and you've had vague sexual thoughts about her for some time, and you start to get horny."




Something Special



"Prudence, you move your hand up his thigh until it's close to his cock, but don't touch it yet. Bret, you put your hand on Prudence's breast and you feel its fullness through the cloth. Now do that; roll."

Once more they followed instructions but they were starting to become immersed in the scene.

Bret began to get an erection, and as his hand touched her breast Prudence's vagina started to lubricate and her nipples hardened. In the past when she had worked with other male models she often had to use an artificial lubricant to make their union easy and painless. 

"Cut," Aimee cried out.

"Fine...fine...it gets more and more like the real thing."

"When you feel Bret's hand on your breast you know it's going to be okay, Prudence. You kiss him again, and this time with plenty of tonguing, and you Bret, start to unbutton her blouse. Roll."

Bret's hand was still on Prudence's breast and already his penis had reached its full magnificence and was starting to throb urgently. The kiss Prudence gave him became frantic and by the time they broke Bret had managed to unbutton Prudence's blouse. 

"I always knew you had beautiful breasts," he murmured.

"Wonderful...wonderful," Aimee crowed. "Now Bret, you bend over her breasts and take one of her nipples into your mouth and suck it."

"Prudence, you're really sure now and you pull down his zip and take out his penis. Roll."

Bret sucked and Prudence pulled down his zip and taking hold of his penis drew it out and then cried out, "My God, I didn't know you were so big; oh my darling." She followed this by removing her nipple from Bret's mouth and bent over to lick the head of his penis. Bret responded with a loud groan.

"Cut," Aimee yelped. "Wonderful touch Prudence, 'I didn't know you were so big; lovely.'" She chuckled and said, "I thought you'd get a surprise when you saw the size of his cock; not too big four you, is it?"

Prudence nearly gave things away when she started to say, "I didn't know he was so big; I haven't seen it since he was...I...er...yes, I think I can take all of him."

"Great Prudence, I can take all of him myself." 

And Bret, that groan when she licked your cock sounded like the real thing."

"Now, you slip your hand slowly up her skirt and start to feel her cunt. It's wet and ready for you; you love her...you worship her, and you want to show your devotion, so you kneel in front of her, push up her skirt and take off her panties. Then you lean forward and start by kissing her cunt, but you want to taste and smell her properly, so you...well you know what to do. Roll."

Bret followed the instructions again, but it was as his tongue entered Prudence's vagina that things threatened to get out of hand. He'd had to lick girls like this before, but somehow with his mother it was different; she smelt and tasted good, and his tongue caressing became increasingly avid as Prudence started to cry out, "Lovely darling...lovely...oh my God, I'm going to come."

The camera that was very close he hardly noticed he was so engrossed in licking Prudence.

Suddenly Prudence started wail and her whole body seemed to convulse and vibrate. Bret had to wrap his arms round her thighs to stay in contact, and as her juices began to flow his lower face became saturated.

Gradually Prudence subsided and Aimee cried out, "Cut, wow, that was terrific; it really does look like the real thing. Now Bret, you're so horny by now that you...my God your face is wet...you get on top of her and fuck her like there's no tomorrow."

"Prudence, I know you've always insisted the boys wear condoms, but you won't mind if Bret doesn't wear one, will you...you are safe aren't you?"

Poor Prudence, she as so overwrought she scarcely knew what she said, "Yes Aimee, but..."

"He's clean," Aimee chuckled, "I use him myself sometimes. The point is, that the punters can always see the condom in the close ups and that's okay most times, but they like to think the son might get his mum pregnant. So let's go; now make it really wild Bret. Roll.

Prudence lay back on the divan and opened her legs wide and Bret lay between them. She guided his penis into her vagina, and as he felt the first warm wet touch Bret gave a long drawn out groan.

"Does it feel good?" Prudence asked, her voice quavering with passion.

"Oh God yes," Bret replied, his own voice unsteady, "It's beautiful with you mum...wonderful."

Bret, himself teetering on the edge of coming plunged into her and Prudence, in a strangled voice cried out, "I'm coming again darling...I'm coming...now darling...now...in me...I want to feel it in me..."

For a few seconds they were lost in the sweet fury of mutual orgasm as Bret slammed his rich young his seed into her.

There now followed that post coital lassitude as they continued embracing, Bret's penis still in her vagina.

"Cut," yelled Aimee, "Fantastic, you really got into it and...hey, break it up you two, I've got another video to make after this and I haven't got all night." 

Bret reluctantly withdrew his penis from Prudence and Aimee complained, "For God's sake Prudence, you're getting all his juice on the divan, here use these."

She produced a bunch of tissues and Prudence held them against the opening of her vagina.

"You'd better go off and have a shower and I'll see you in the office. Muriel, we've got a multiple rape scene next and well use the bedroom, go and get it set up will you?"

Turning again to Prudence and Bret she said, "I'll let you see a playback before you leave.

Muriel headed for the bedroom, Bret and Prudence to the showers. 

* * * * * * * *

They didn't shower together because the reality of what had happened between them had, to say the least, caused them discomfiture, and the fact that they had enjoyed it didn't make it any easier.

Their showers finished they dressed they went to the office. On their way they passed a laughing group consisting of one middle aged buxom female and half a dozen young men making their way to the bedroom.

Aimee sat waiting for them and as she signaled them to sit she said, "Well, you two do seem to have it together, you made it look like the real thing. Do you think you could work together again?"

Prudence and Bret looked at each other and then Prudence said, "Yes Aimee," and Bret followed with his agreement.

"What I've got in mind is a series," Aimee said thoughtfully. "I usually change partners around, but I want to take a chance that the punters would like to see the development of a real love affair between a mother and son; you know, devoted mother services her besotted son, that sort of thing, okay?"

Another glance between Prudence and Bret and Prudence said, "Okay Aimee."

"Wonderful; if it works out I'll put you on a higher rate, here's your money. Now have a look at the playback."

She had set up a video screen and the film started to roll. For Prudence and Bret it proved to be a disappointment. The scenes as usual lacked continuity, and the sound was indistinct, but since Aimee seemed delighted, and as she was paying, they made no criticism.

Prudence and Bret left together, Prudence saying in Aimee's hearing, "I'll give you a lift if you like, Bret."

As they approached the car Bret said, "You nearly gave it away then."

"What?"

"About giving me a lift, how would you know I hadn't got a car if we hadn't met before?"

"Second sight," Prudence said grimly. "When we get home I think a long talk is in order."

"Yes mum," Bret replied apprehensively.

* * * * * * * *

Home and Prudence led Bret into the lounge and ordered him to sit.

Without preamble she began, "How long have you been working for Aimee?"

"About two months," Bret mumbled.

"What, I didn't hear you."

"About two months," Bret said loudly. 

"There's no need to shout I'm not deaf." 

"Sorry."

"Why...how could you, it's like...like..."

"How long have you worked there?" Bret said defiantly.

"That's different," Prudence said a little less aggressively.

"How is it different, and since you asked me..."

"All right, about two years..."

"Two years!" Bret exclaimed.

"I did it for us," Prudence protested.

"For us! You let those men...you let them..."

"Fuck me, yes, and don't forget you fucked me this evening and you've agreed you'll do it again."

"And so have you."

"Yes, well, as I said it's different."

"I don't see how."

Prudence calmed down and said in a reasonable tone of voice, "Look Bret, your father left us with little money and a lot of debt. I tried to make a living cleaning and waitressing, but the pay was so bad, and I had you to keep and educate, it wasn't easy, and as you know, Aimee pays good money."

"But you of all people mother, how did you get into it."

Prudence smiled and said, "No names, but one of the women at the church used to work for Aimee; she did it for some extra spending money and knowing what a financial struggle I was having she suggested I give working for Aimee a try. I mean, it's not exactly prostitution and..."

"Isn't it?"

"And if it is, what does it make you Bret?"

"Touché," Bret said, looking a bit shamefaced, and then added, "I've never seen anyone from the church working there."

"No, she got pregnant and..."

"You mean one of the guys..."

"No, no, she always insisted they wore a condom, it was with her husband."

"And he didn't mind that she..."

"He didn't know; she always said she was going to the Women's Church Auxiliary when she worked for Aimee. And you wouldn't have known about me, or I you, if it hadn't been for this evening. How did you get started?"

"Much the same way as you, a friend introduced me, and like you I knew we needed the money, and the jobs I was doing didn't pay much so..."

"And if I heard correctly, you're Aimee's toy boy."

"Well she does ask me to fuck her occasionally, she says it's because my penis is..."

"So big; yes, I rather thought that was the case."

"Look mum, it's not so bad. I mean, it's not as if I'm robbing someone or murdering them. If I told you I was fucking half a dozen girls around the university would you be so shocked?"

"And if I told you I was being fucked by half a dozen men at the church, would you be so shocked?"

"I see your point," Bret admitted.

"So what are we going to do about the arrangement we've made with Aimee?"

"You mean that we've agreed to go ahead and have sex with each other again?"

"Yes."

Bret looked thoughtful for a moment and then said, "Mum, I don't know how it was for you, but for me it was real."

This evening?"

"Yes."

"And you don't know how it was for me?"

"Well I..."

"It was very real for me and I could feel it was for you."

"Is that awful mum?"

"I think it's beautiful. You must know I've often thought that I'd like to make love with you, but..." 

"That's odd; I've often thought that about you." 

"Have you...really?"

"Yes, really." 

Prudence paused for a moment and then said, "There was just one thing that spoiled it."

"What?"

"The lack of continuity, I mean, we did it in bits and pieces with Aimee constantly interrupting with her directions and Muriel waving her camera at us."

"Yes; do you suppose we could do it here, on our own?"

Prudence seemed to become solemn as she said, "Darling, there's something you ought to know."

"What?"

"You remember when Aimee asked if I was safe and I said yes?"

"Yes."

"I'm not really."

"Really what?"

"Safe."

"What! You mean I could have made you pregnant?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Then why did you tell Aimee you were safe?"

"Because...because...I know this is going to sound idiotic, but I wanted to feel you in me properly, to have your sperm in me."

"Hell," Bret muttered, "if you get pregnant Aimee won't want to use you any more."

"Is that all it mean to you?"

"Well what else?"

"Couldn't you enjoy knowing you've made your mother pregnant?"

"Well I..."

"Whether you do or not, you may have to get used to it. So are we going to go ahead and have sex with each other?"

"You mean now?"

"Well that too, but I really meant doing it for Aimee."

"Bret looked confused. "I don't know, I mean, if you're going to have a baby and I'm the father I wouldn't like it if you..."

"Went on having sex with other men?"

"Yes."

"Well I don't want the father of my child having sex with other women."

"No, I suppose not."

"There's no 'suppose' about it Bret; I wouldn't like it, even a little bit. But then, I may not be pregnant, but I do have an idea."

"What?"

"It would mean taking a chance, but suppose we told Aimee that in future we'd only have sex with each other and not with any of the other models?"

"She might refuse to use us any more."

"That's the chance, but do you...do you...er...love me enough to take the chance?"

"If you let me come to bed with you tonight I'll show you how much I love you."

"In that case, we'd better get on with it," Prudence said enthusiastically.

* * * * * * * *

The proposition put to Aimee, she at first objected, but then relented saying; "We could be on a money maker. If we could somehow imply that here is a mother and son so in love with each other they could never even consider sex with anyone else...yes, the punters could love that. Yes...yes...let's run with it at least for a while."

She paused for a moment and then thoughtfully went on, "This wouldn't mean you'd stop having sex with me, Bret; I mean, that's private, off camera." 

"Yes it would mean that," Prudence said emphatically, "I'm not letting my son have sex with any other woman."

"My God, you really are getting into the part, Prudence. Okay, I suppose I'll have to try and find someone else with one as big as his, business comes before pleasure."

From that time on Aimee ceased breaking up the love making into scenes; she just let Prudence and Bret go their own way. As she said, it looked like a real homemade sex video and she could really believe that they loved each other passionately.

The success of the new approach was almost immediately. The number of visits to Aimee's internet site increased dramatically, nearly all of them to view Prudence and Bret. In addition scores of new members signed up.

It all seemed to be going well: Prudence and Bret were immensely satisfied with each other; Aimee was making money, but then came crisis time; Prudence was pregnant.

Both she and Bret knew that Aimee would have to be told, and in any case it couldn't be hidden from her for long. This, they thought, was the end of their careers in erotic video making, and therefore the end of a nice little income.

Aimee was furious.

"I've got a nice little money spinner going and you foul it up. You told me you were safe and I...well I can't use you any more Prudence; you can stay Bret, the pregnancy won't show on you so...wait a minute...wait a minute...you're marvelous Prudence." 

She kissed Prudence on the cheek and went on in wild-eyed enthusiasm, "A lot of the punters like to see pregnant women having sex, and just imagine it, a pregnant mother having sex with her son whose the father of the child; a real pregnancy, what pity you're not really mother and son. Still I suppose I can't have everything. Bret looked at Prudence and winked, and Prudence returned the wink.

They were still employed, and they continued to get their ten percent bonus; because, as Aimee put it, "You two are something special."



Something Special



He ripped another Kleenex from the box on his desk. 

A red hot message would often be waiting for him in his Inbox, daring him to open it when he got into the office first thing. If he was in early enough and there was no-one else around, he would indulge. Otherwise he'd have to wait until the evening until he got some private time at home. But this morning had been a different kind of message.

This morning had been an early start for him, he'd had some preparation to complete for a meeting so he'd arrived in the carpark at just after 7.00am. The office building was quiet, just the overnight security guys on duty until the day shift took over at 8.30. He nodded to them as he went through reception and up to his office suite.

He unlocked the door and switched on the lights, putting his briefcase down beside his desk. His first thought was of coffee and he went out to the staff kitchen to prepare a pot of his favourite Java. Looking around, he thought how odd, how eerie the open plan office seemed when there was no-one around, quite spooky in fact. 

With mug in hand, he went back to his desk, sipping his coffee and switched on his PC and sat waiting for it to come to life. After a few moments, he logged on to his email and there was indeed a message from her. 

But, just as he was about to open it, in the corner of his eye he noticed a package on his in-tray. It must have arrived with the post yesterday, he'd not seen his post as he'd had to go down to the City to a meeting. He reached over and looked at the address label. A grin spread across his face, he knew it was from her from the typewritten label and the postmark. 

He clicked on her email message first though.

Hi darling ... I'm relying on Mr. Postman to have delivered a little something for you ... I know you'll love it. Here's a little picture to go with it. Enjoy!

He clicked on the email attachment. He sat staring for a moment as the image appeared before him. He took a mouthful of his coffee and winced as he gulped, it was still too hot ... but he was distracted by what he was looking at. 

There she was ... legs spread wide ... her webcam had captured the shine on her fingers ... she had obviously just cum ... the reddened, glistening wet flesh of her sex was beckoning him ... the crotch of her black lace panties pulled to one side to expose herself to him. 

The image was so vivid ... he could smell her ... the tightening bulge in his suit trousers made him shift to the edge of his seat. He took another mouthful of coffee and put the mug down beside the PC and reached for the package. He hurriedly undid the seal, pulling on the staples, cursing as one of them pricked his finger. It opened after a struggle and as it did so, scores of tiny foil stars spilled out over his office floor ... he reached inside the package and retrieved something soft. Sure enough, it was her black lace panties, the ones she was wearing in the picture now teasing him from his screen. 

He was momentarily frozen, hesitant ... not quite sure what to do next ... his senses were in overdrive ... his hard-on straining against his zipper ... his head filled with the image of her before him.

He pulled on his zipper to release his prick. It sprang out from his pants, already fully hard. Holding it in one hand he drew her panties up to his face and breathed. The initial scent was of her perfume, but the background aroma was of her ... her juice ... her cum ... familiar to him ... delicious ... like the sweetest nectar. His head swam and his prick jerked and twitched in his hand ... he could have cum just then ... without touching himself further. His senses were assaulted by her scent and the sight of her spread wide before him. He began stroking his length, he was so hard, so excited by what he was seeing and smelling.

He took a deep breath and rested back in his chair for a moment ... it was as if she was there with him ... the fabric gave his hand that wonderful remote feeling ... as if it was her touching him with her soft hands. He knew if he didn't slow down a little he'd cum too soon. He looked away from the screen and squeezed the tip of his leaking prick a little, trying the delay the explosion he knew was imminent. 

But, fuck it, he thought ... the feeling was too good to waste and he began to wank himself, slowly at first then gaining speed and finally he came with a low groan escaping from his mouth and he opened his eyes to see his cream sliding down the screen of his PC, across the image of her widespread legs and her sex.

He smiled at the accuracy of his aim and he sat there for a few moments to recover, her panties still in his hand, now wrapped around his softening cock. 

He put the lacy black panties on his desk and sat forward to reach his keyboard. He clicked back to the message and hit 'reply'. 

Hi hon ... the 'little something' arrived safely ... most satisfactory ... look for an envelope from me in the next day or two ... XXX

He hit send and then clicked back to her photograph. He then sent it to the printer. He took a handful of Kleenex from the box and began to clean up, both himself and his PC screen, laughing to himself at the sheer madness of it all. She was as crazy as he was, thank god, he thought. 

Once he was cleaned up, he went to the printer and picked up the A4 sized picture of her and headed out to the photocopier. He enlarged the picture to A3, carefully shredded the smaller copy and returned to his desk. 

He picked up his coffee mug again and took a sip. 

He sat looking at the blown up version of her picture ... there she was in all her full-colour glory. He ran his finger over her lips and across the folds of her usually most private places, smiling and reminiscing about the last time he'd touched her for real. With a sigh, he took her panties, holding them against his face for a moment and returned them to the envelope, together with a few of the stars which had landed on his desk. He took the picture and folded it and put it inside the packet and put it into his briefcase. He would have a lot of fun with his treasures later on at home and intended to cum across the picture several times before sending it to her in the post.



Something Special



It's cold and dark. We are wandering down by the water, laughing under the stars. Dinner was good and the night still young. You look so handsome in your suit. I know you hate wearing it but I am touched you dressed up for me. I am in a short dress, its deep green with a thistle stitched into the side, it barely covers my ass. You laugh knowing how cold I am in the wind. I am stubborn and refuse to go back to the car yet. 

"Why don't you warm me up?" I tease, smiling back at you and wiggling my ass. 

You grin and grab my hips, almost tripping me as you pull me back against you. 

"Oh? And how should I do that?" You whisper in my ear, sending shivers down my back.

I toss my hair and twist around in your grasp smiling up at you.

"Well, we are alone, in the dark, at the beach, what do you want to do to me?" I slowly run my hand down your chest to your crotch rubbing and squeezing.

You moan, not loudly but enough to let me know you want me. I laugh and dance out of your grasp, grinning as you growl and chase me. I run down the beach, letting my scarf fly behind me. I know you will catch me easily enough. I don't go far, when I feel you grab the scarf and pull me back. I am still giggling as you press me against you. 

"Down!" You growl as you push on my shoulders. I drop to my knees panting and grinning. You slowly unzip your pants and I mew as I watch you pull out your cock.

"Suck." It is the command I have been waiting for all day. I eagerly lean forward and lick your cock. I moan and take the head into my warm mouth. You are so big, so thick, you fill my mouth and I am only halfway down. I listen to your moaning as I slowly suck your cock deeper into my mouth. You are holding my head. I stop and let you take control. This is what I long for, you in total control, using me to satisfy your needs. I growl and moan as you begin slowly pumping your cock in and out of my mouth. I choke as you go deeper. You are so big, so filling. I can feel drool running down my mouth as you speed up. I keep choking, but I need you to finish. I whine helplessly as you suddenly pull out and push me away. 

"Bend over!" Your voice is gruff now, you are close. I quickly bend over a branch, hoping it will hold my weight. You lift my dress and run your hand over my ass. I have a toy there, stretching it just for you. I whimper when you rub against my dripping pussy. I want you there, but tonight I am being punished. You moan as you rub my wetness on my asshole. I whine loudly as you start tugging on my toy. It feels so good, but it hurts too. You pull it out and I feel empty. The feeling doesn't last long. You have spit on your fingers and are working them deep into my ass. It is sudden and I have no time to react. All I can do is moan and push against you. I need your cock in me. You know this and are happy to do so. I cry out as you suddenly take away your fingers and replace them with your cock. I can't help it, you are so big, and it hurts so much. But you feel good, and deep, so deep. We have done this before but I always seem to forget how deep you go. I can't help it, I am moving with you, moaning loudly. You are going so hard and fast in my ass, I know you are going to cum soon. I am too, I am so close. You are growling and your fingers digging in as you pound my ass. I am begging you to cum, fill me with cum, please. I need it. You need it. Please. 

You cry out as you cum. You shove your cock balls deep. I can't help it, I scream as I cum with you, biting my arm as I try to hold it back. You stay still letting me calm down before you pull out, letting your cum slowly drip out of my ass. It has been a good night.



Something Special at North County



Kenon sat at his desk, sipped his water and continued reading The Hidden Curriculum, by Brenda Myles. As the Principal of North County High, he needed to be mentally and physically on top of his game for the staff and 2000 students under his command. So he worked out and read daily. His body was as ripped as his mind was brilliant. 

However, despite his training and dedication, he did have weaknesses. He loved sweets, spent too much on clothes, and worst of all had an incurable hunger for stacked, curvy, blondes. 

The school had plenty of yellow hairs to choose from, both in its staff and student body. Kenon had fucked some of the better looking staffers-married and unmarried-using his charm and sometimes his power to help or hurt their careers and families to get them to strip. He loved breaking boundaries and often thought of crossing the forbidden threshold between teacher and senior, but common sense always reminded him of the future-killing dangers of such unions. Still, the forbidden only stoked his desire. 

He often spent lunchtime in his office, browsing through senior yearbook photos on his computer. He lingered on all the pretty 18 year olds and, on quiet days, daydreamed about them while stroking his black cock. The orgasms were always tinged with as much guilt as excitement. He'd clean up afterwards with half a box of tissues and continue his day, a bit light-headed and more tempted. 

For now, Kenon filed away his copy of Myles with every intention of returning to it after a biology class he had to teach in 20 minutes. An aggressive flu had kept several of his teachers and substitutes in bed. So Dr. Kenon Smith, who majored in comparative anatomy before switching to education, was taking most of the day's science classes. He packed up the appropriate textbook and left his leather chair to go to Mrs. Manning's Advanced Physiology. 

North County High was built on what had been a cornfield. It was relatively new, with walls that were still bright and floors that reflected the ceiling lights like mirrors. Kenon walked down the hallways and into the arena style classroom every bit a king. Chatter faded to murmurs that silenced once he placed his briefcase on Mrs. Manning's desktop and glanced over the lesson plan she had left; a brief recap of cell division and mitosis. He looked up and began speaking. His voice flowed in a poetic introduction of life and the cells that form it. He was exciting and theatrical but stuttered when he noticed a platinum blonde he hadn't seen before. She sat in the far corner of the room, legs crossed with her chin perched on a palm. 

She was a stunner. Kenon took inventory of her treasures, long hair he imagined reached the bottom of her back, piercing blue eyes, large breasts, and peaches and cream legs that went on forever. All packed exquisitely on a curvaceous frame. Kenon stuttered, regained his rhythm, but couldn't take his eyes off the mystery student for the rest of the lesson. 

She answered his questions without pause. Their inquiries and responses danced. He admitted to himself he was giving her too much attention, so towards the end of class he aimed questions to a random assortment of faces that included an obvious nerd, a jock and a slim cheerleader with no tits. 

In the last minute, he reminded the students to review chapters 4 and 5 because there might be a quiz, though he would not had been surprised if less than half the students heard him as they hustled out the door. Kenon bowed to pack his briefcase. When he looked up, he saw the blonde standing before him, looking him straight in the eyes and smiling. He couldn't believe how tall she was. 

"Excuse me, Mr. Smith, I just have a few questions." Both her hands clutched a laptop and textbook to her stomach, her arms pressed her breasts together. 

"Of course, how can I help Ms..." Kenon trailed off, waiting for the student to insert a name. 

"Mason, Crystal Mason. Sir - It's my first week." 

"Ms. Mason. First, it's Doctor Smith, not Mister. I worked hard for that title and want to get as much use out of it as I can. Now what is your question?" 

"Yes, Dr. Smith." 

The two talked about science for several minutes. It was clear she was smart, and Kenon appreciated that as another of her treasures. Crystal was already well-versed in biology and the question that started their conversation was on genetics, which she said she wanted to take next year as a college freshman. Kenon loved her husky voice like he loved looking down along her legs, which were toned by youth and obvious gym time. An incredibly short skirt - one clearly against school regulations - allowed a generous view. If he wanted to, Kenon could've also busted her on her shirt which was unbuttoned one button too many, but had to be because it was so tight it occasionally rose a bit off her stomach. 

She thanked him at the end of their talk and turned to leave when Kenon stopped her. 

"Ms. Mason, I'm afraid we aren't finished. I'll have to issue you a demerit and write a note home to your parents for that choice of clothing." Kenon was stern but polite. He leaned against the front edge of the desk and eyed his subject from the throne. 

Crystal's eyes widened. "Please, Sir, I've had to move to so many schools this year, and I can't afford to have notes going home again, already. Sir, please?" 

Kenon walked to the door and locked it. He had 45 minutes till his next class, he originally planned on using that time to complete his Myles. Instead, he looked at Crystal and strode once more to Mrs. Manning's seat. "Well, I'm not letting you back out there dressed like that." 

Crystal fumed. "What's wrong with it?" 

"That skirt, for starters, is way too short." Kenon sat down, with every intention of using his authority to make her squirm. What good was being king if you couldn't abuse that power from time to time? 

Crystal sauntered after him, her shirt sliding on smooth, shiny thighs. She paused a half meter before him, turned and bent to touch the floor. "Nothing is showing, is it?" 

Kenon was stunned - As Crystal went over, the skirt slid up her ass and sat on top, revealing that she wasn't wearing panties. He stared open mouthed at the smooth, ripe pussy she willingly displayed. Against better judgment, Kenon landed his hands on her firm butt and squeezed it. She yelped at the touch, but didn't move. 

Kenon gripped her by the hips and pulled her over his lap. He slid that skirt up further and pushed his face against her vulva, inhaled her scent, before yanking her shoulders back to pull her head up. 

"Why did you have to come like this?" He slapped her ass, closed his eyes and slapped it again. Crystal groaned against the spank. Her tail was already swaying before the thunder subsided. 

"Yes Sir, punish me for it. Do what you're not supposed to." Crystal reached back, felt the burn on her butt. 

Kenon pulled her rump back to his face. Her head went towards the floor. 

He stood up, brought her with him, and slammed her forward on the desk, knocking over his briefcase as he dove head first into her ass and slit. Her screams were muffed by his hand over her mouth. She gyrated in pleasure, giving him a lifetime of dirty fantasies. 

He could not hold back, and quickly undid his belt and pushed down his trousers. There was no hesitation in lifting his shirt, nor in thrashing his cock against her thighs. She knew what to do and moved her legs apart. Kenon fought with his conscience. He thought about his career, his moral obligations. Then he looked at her and breathed her in, he stroked her moist pussy and hated himself for having to have her. He touched his dickhead against her labia, and pushed inside with an unsure growl. 

She tried to scream, but the effort only wetted his palm. Her eyes rolled as she ground on his dick, circling her ass as high on his abs as her long legs could push it. She opened her shirt and pulled her tits from her bra so they could spill out and rub against the desk's grain. Her nipple piercings scratched the varnished wood as wild thrusts rocked her. 

Kenon gripped the back of her neck, tugged her head back, curving her up, and in the process, made her a tighter fit. 

Crystal rose in defiance and twisted her upper body around to kiss him full on the mouth. She sucked his tongue as he trembled. She touched long fingers to his damp cheeks and clenched him with her body. He gave her everything, pouring out whatever confusions and wants in streams in of jizz. 

She took what he had and kept it hot inside her. "Mmmmmmm, Doc was loaded." Long, white fingers were gentle as they wrapped his sac. She gave his balls a slight squeeze as if to make sure there wasn't a drop left in them. She wanted it all. "Any more?" 

Kenon shook. The eruption drained of him energy, speech, breath, regular heartbeat. He swung his head from side to side to get rid of the haze in front of his eyes. If he could, he would've blacked out, slept for a century, only to wake up and beg her for more. "You said again." 

"What?" 

Kenon staggered backwards against the white broad, most of his senses were calming down. His heart was still rampant, especially as he watched Crystal straighten her blouse and reach in her book bag for a pair of panties to slip on. "When I spoke of the note, you said 'Not again'." 

She smiled and called him her "pretty black man." Once her clothes were in place, she glanced at the clock and back at him. "You still have time to make your next class. You want to have me like this all the time?" 

Kenon nodded slowly. "You've done this before?" 

Crystal smiled as she headed for the door. "I gotta go home, clean up and take a nap. I'll be back tomorrow. No notes though." 

"None." Kenon stared at her confident smile. "Just tell me. Have you done this before?" 

Crystal grinned. "I like to see who has the balls to come get me. No boys, just men. Maybe a woman, sometimes. When I heard you were going to teach the class, I went into the restroom, rolled up my skirt to make it higher, took off my undies and came in to see what I would catch." She unrolled the waistband of her skirt so the garment hung the legal length. "I had to get in here before anyone else, then keep my legs closed during the entire class." She giggled; it sounded like a stream dancing over stones. "Didn't want anyone looking up there." 

Kenon couldn't stop staring at her. Nothing else, just her. 

"You know how hard it was shuffling in here from the girls' room? I got such a large ass that my skirt kept riding up. So I expect you to keep treating me good, Doctor Smith." Crystal made a sucking gesture with her mouth. It was the most obscene kiss Kenon had ever seen blown. "Next time?" 

Kenon could only agree. "Yes, Ms. Mason." 

"I'll be back tomorrow. Maybe we can do time in the Principal's office. Oh, zip up that dick." She winked and was out the door. 

Kenon tucked in his shirt and zipped his pants. He deliberately wanted her looking at his cock with her cream on it. No way was he going to wash it. He got off on the idea of the staff whiffing it and wondering, "What is that odor?" 

His chest fell as it finally exhaled. 

With more control of himself, he got his briefcase, straightened the desk, then walked, almost in a stagger, to the next class thinking about tomorrow when he'd spank a big assed blonde that wanted it.



Something Special at the Beach



It was a picture perfect day at the beach: bright sun, hot with a light breeze, and a gentle surf. The turnout was good -- at least a hundred people were in the "swimsuit optional" section of the beach. I had placed myself in a group of about a dozen people nicely spread out. As I laid on my towel, I noticed an attractive young couple making their way along the beach. The girl was a petite, short-haired blonde, with a beautiful deep tan, and luscious lips. She was skinny but had exquisitely shaped ankles and legs. Her hips jutted out provocatively -- the t-shirt she was wearing hinting at the perfection underneath. Her boyfriend was a surfer looking guy with medium length, sun-bleached curly hair. He was tan, moderately muscular, and had trimmed chest hair. 

The couple settled down near me, but far enough away to follow the nude beach etiquette of not crowding together. He didn't hesitate in disrobing; he was already shirtless, so he simply dropped his board shorts to the sand and kicked them aside. I admired his naked form: his pendulous balls, his penis -- heavy looking, and circumcised -- and his neatly trimmed pubic hair. It was an impressive package, and I immediately had visions of the girl enjoying it in private. I turned my attention to her and watched as she unzipped and removed her cotton mini-skirt and then shed her t-shirt. Underneath she wore a skimpy bright yellow bikini with tie-sides. The top cupped and partially revealed beautiful round breasts with her nipples showing through the fabric. A pleasant past-time at nude beaches is to guess if the woman's breasts are real or fake. Her breasts were real I thought to myself -- delightfully, achingly real. So they laid themselves out on their towels. Soon enough she sat up and took off her top to reveal pert breasts that held their shape, prominent nipples and small areola. I confirmed my assessment: they were just as nature intended. At last she was topless, and a stunning sight it was. I noted her breasts were the same deep tan as the rest of her body, so she was not new to this.

After half an hour or so under the hot sun, I saw from the corner of my eye that she had gone down to the ocean for a swim. I repositioned discretely to view her wet dripping body returning to her spot on the beach. I was not disappointed: she jogged back, shaking her head, making her blonde hair stand out in wet spikes. Water droplets ran over her breasts, but she was still wearing her bikini bottoms. Some women do that. I thought that perhaps she was a little shy. I have never been so wrong.

I watched as she came up to her partner, who was also watching her approach, shielding his eyes from the overhead sun. I noticed his penis was becoming more rigid, and it was now draped heavily over his thigh. She stopped at his side and looked at him admiringly. She touched his penis with her outstretched foot as she said something to him. I couldn't make out what she said, but he was nodding in agreement. She squatted, reached quickly for her beach bag and pulled out lubricant, and my pulse quickened. She dribbled a small amount onto her palm as she sat down next to him. She reached over and took his penis in her hand, stroking the soft organ gently with one hand, then with both. He watched her briefly, then dropped his head back on the towel, moaning loudly enough that I could hear him from where I was sitting. She massaged his balls, stretching the sack, then stretched his shaft, rotating expertly around the head. Her technique looked expert and he became very hard: his glossy penis was curved, the head-skin tightly drawn, capping off his brown shaft with a fleshy pink.

She smiled at her work, her head half cocked to the side, as she stroked proudly. I could only imagine how difficult it was for him not to come, knowing how sensitive his penis must have been from the amazing stimulation being given to him. She spoke again, this time looking quickly around to see if anyone was watching, or perhaps looking to see if anyone was coming towards her to object. Whatever it was she asked, he again nodded and wiped away sweat from his forehead.

She stood over him and pulled at both strings of her bikini bottoms. The tiny triangles fell away, revealing a honey-blonde bush that was trimmed and shaped very neatly down to the clitoris. Her skin was evenly tanned to the folds of her exposed labia. She repositioned herself in a squat over his penis, hovering just above him, feet either side of his hips. I could not believe what I was seeing; I knew this was going to be good and my pulse quickened. Needless to say, I had to turn over to conceal my rapidly growing erection. I glanced about at the dozen or so other people lying nearby. Most of the men were quietly engrossed in the scene. A couple was also glued to the scene, but the rest of the crowd did not realize what was going on right in front of them, under that bright cloudless sky.

She rubbed the length of his penis with her wet lips a few times and I wondered if she would keep doing this until he came. Or slip him into her vagina, or reposition for some fellatio? I was pleasantly surprised to see that she did none of these. Instead, she leaned back a little, placing one hand on his shin with her arm bracing her from going too far back. She spread her knees and lifted her buttocks off his thighs. With her free hand she reached under for his penis and positioned the head not at her vagina, but further back at her exposed anus. She circled it around to lubricate the puckered entrance, then sat up a little allowing the head of his penis to pop into her. She held it there briefly, looking around quickly, and began bobbing her buttocks up and down in small movements, as she carefully made her way down the shaft.

I was dying at this point, I could not believe my luck in being able to so clearly view this. She was now leaning forward with her hands pressed down on his chest. His penis was fully inside her, and with her head tilted back, eyes closed against the sun, lips sensuously parted, she started making a slow and deliberate circular motion with her hips, keeping his penis fully inside her. I could only imagine how that must have felt for her, his penis probing around deep inside her rectum. His breath quickened; he placed his hands on her hips following her gyrations, and sweat rolled off his face and body.

She licked her fingers and began massaging her clitoris and began rocking further, allowing his penis to slide half way out before plunging back in. Her fingers began slipping into her vagina, working deeper to make contact with her g-spot. The massaging motion of her hand was becoming more insistent. And with their audible whimpers and moans, their act was becoming considerably less discrete.

She stopped masturbating and raised her arms joining her hands behind her head, arched her back -- her breasts standing high and firm, prominent nipples erect -- and looked down at her boyfriend writhing in ecstasy under her. She continued a combination of grinding hip movements while he was deep inside her, and stroking movements revealing the glistening wide shaft that was connecting the two bodies.

She stopped on a downward stroke, sitting on him. I then noticed a puddle appear at his abdomen, flowing quickly down to his navel where it pooled before flowing over his sides to the towel. She was pissing on him! The trickle became a small tentative line of urine, now reaching just beyond his navel and splashing his chest. She reached down and spread it over his torso. He lifted his head to watch and said something to her. Placing two fingers just above her clitoris she pulled upwards, exposing her urethra and aiming her stream as it became stronger.

Soon her piss was arching the length of his torso and splashing his face wildly. He shook his head -- his entire face became wet, his curly hair sparkling and dripping. Then he opened his mouth to catch some stray droplets. At first her aim was imprecise, but soon she was directing the stream directly into his mouth. I watched his mouth fill and overflow, cascading down his neck and chest. He swallowed without flinching, took more, and swallowed. He took several more mouthfuls before her bladder gave out, the stream collapsing back down his chest, ending with one or two little squirts over his navel.

She smiled wickedly as she laid down on top of him, urine squeezing out between their torsos, and planted a full kiss on his lips. I now saw he retained a mouthful of piss and they were now sharing it between them as they kissed. Some of the liquid was forced out of their mouths, but it looked like they drank most of it. Then I realized he was still inside of her!

She started moving again, rotating her hips a little, and he copied her pace, his penis impressively stretching her anus, the bright sunlight revealing all in exquisite detail. At least a dozen people having heard the moans and cries now followed the activity. I could see several guys openly stroking themselves as they watched, mesmerized.

The young couple fucked with a steady rhythm for a few minutes before I saw his body tensing and his hip movement slowing. I was amazed he held out as long as he did. He emitted a sharp cry, then he held her buttocks still as semen shot into her ass. His penis, tightly enveloped by her anus, was visibly flexing with each ejaculation. When he finished, she lifted herself and his penis slid out of her, still oozing. White liquid dripping from her ass was puddling on his tanned abdomen, pooling into his navel, combining with her urine.

She reached behind herself and quickly dipped her fingers into her anus. She put her fingers to her nose and smelled the slicked fingers with obvious pleasure. She then rubbed it over her lips like an erotic ritual, then licked them provocatively for him. Again they kissed passionately; my admiration for this man and woman kept growing with every new thing they did. I needed to come badly having watched this amazing display, and all it took was a gentle rubbing motion on my towel and I was done.

After more passionate kissing and hugging, she looked up and around to take in her surroundings. Smiling that smile again she whispered something into his ear, got up, turned around and squatted over his face. She lowered herself enough to allow him to lick her wet labia, and more incredibly to delve further and begin licking her asshole. She watched -- as we all were -- as he licked, slurped, and pressed his lips up to her anus. Semen was visibly dribbling out in generous white globs, slipping over his tongue and being swallowed. She ground her ass into his face then leaned down and began sucking his semi-erect penis. With his hands over her buttocks, face implanted into her crotch, and her mouth taking the entire length of his penis, we were all treated to a beautiful display of uninhibited lovemaking.

It was an astonishing performance and I was blushing in desire for these two people. With her mouth full of him, she climaxed with muffled groans, finishing with a low roar of climactic release. She collapsed down onto his body, kissing his penis.

I looked around the crowd again and could detect a few glistening signs of release on some men. The couple that had watched all along were now spooning and slowly moving their hips, their eyes not moving from the couple. Quite a few of the other people, including two or three couples who did not see the start of this incredible sex, were certainly enraptured by now. Most of them were sitting up and turned boldly in the direction of the action. The couple repositioned themselves into a snuggle, and I dozed off for I don't know how long.

When I awoke, I saw their towels were vacated. I looked down and saw them cavorting and playing in the surf. Both still naked, they ran back to their towels and flopped onto them for another sun tanning session.

Just as I was packing up, I watched as one of the men -- one who I know had jerked himself off to the scene -- was also leaving. He had his towel wrapped around him now and he walked over to the couple, and bent down and spoke to them both.

They both looked up at him, perhaps a little startled. I couldn't make out what she was saying, but as she spoke, she smiled and nodded. At one point, she cupped her hand over her boyfriend's ever-tumescent penis and gave it a gentle squeeze; the man nodded and spoke further when she did this. The guy also nodded and I could clearly hear him say, "Thanks, man," and he held out his hand and shook the stranger's hand. The girl started to do the same, but instead jumped up and gave him an affectionate kiss. The man, clearly caught off guard, squeezed her arm, said his goodbyes to them both and walked off, clearly happy with his day at the beach.

The couple went back to their sun tanning, unconcerned that they were still very much the center of admiring looks, including beach walkers who were rubbernecking as they passed. Boy, did they miss out. Ever since that day, I have admired the spirit of those two people and how they made passionate, uninhibited love in the open for all to see and enjoy; I think their passion should be inspiring.

This is dedicated to those two lucky people, wherever they are.



Something Special on Friday



© Copyright 2006, 2007

It was almost five in the morning. Albert stirred. A shaft of sunlight pierced the curtain and consciousness crept into his brain once again. He dismissed it, searching for the nothingness of sleep. There was a hissing monotone sound in the background that made the search easier. He found what he was looking for, at least for a few minutes. 

"Good Morning! This is the Early Morning Show and I'm your host..." The sound assaulted his eardrums. It was loud—so much so that the fact of the offensive noise overwhelmed its attempt at communication. He knew that he wouldn't get back to sleep after this. Despite the sound of the man speaking to him, he didn't open his eyes. This was a routine played out time after time in Albert's existence. He had fallen asleep in his easy chair watching the late movie and never made it to bed. The din penetrating every corner of the living room was the television with the sound turned up too loud, the station signing on in the early morning. What else was new?

Albert didn't open his eyes right away. Over the scores—perhaps hundreds—of times this had happened he never looked at the offensive Early Show host, or even learned his name. He only knew that he disliked him. He finally opened his eyes just wide enough to find the remote and gave the television set a rest. He closed his eyes again, even though he knew that he would not sleep. 

"What day is it?" he asked himself. What had he done yesterday? That would be a clue. Doctor's appointment! That was it. Today was Friday, his favorite day. It wasn't his favorite because it was the start of the weekend. Workdays, holidays, weekdays, weekends all were the same. Friday was special. "Every man needs something special," he reminded himself.

There had been a time when Albert had many special things going on, but the years had stolen most of them. He retired—his job died; Martha died; his friends died; his strength and stamina did, too.

"Everything dies," he muttered to himself. He had a few special things left. There were grandchildren away at college. He would see them once in a while at holidays and summers. When they visited him he passed out money to them like candy at Halloween. Their parents told him that it was too much for the trivial chores that they performed. He knew it was true; he didn't care. He hoped that he could see at least one of them graduate. He wouldn't actually 'see' them graduate, of course. His knees were shot and he wasn't going to ride in those ridiculous scooters like an invalid. He was a wreck, but he still had some pride.

On Sundays he would get visits from his children. His sons would come over and watch football games with him, drink up his beer and bring him up to date on family news. They would inquire about his health. He would lie about it, or tell a half-truth. They might discuss politics, if he knew in advance they agreed with him. If they didn't agree he put that distant look on his face, and soon they would cease talking. They were middle aged, themselves. He got two hours of them per week. Some guys in his circumstances didn't get that. 

There were Fridays.

The call of nature urged him to struggle out of his chair. Standing up the first time in the morning was always the toughest. Sleeping in the chair all night wouldn't do his hips any good, to boot. He hoisted himself up on his walker with great effort and made his way to the bathroom. 

"I've got to stop sleeping in my chair like this," he scolded himself as he finished his task in the bathroom. "If they put some decent movies on earlier, I wouldn't have to." He tried to remember what movie he had been watching. He gave up—it would come to him later.

"At least I'm dressed," he said out loud. "Now I've got to take my medicine." 

He shuffled to the kitchen where his pills were waiting for him, stopping to get a glass of water on the way. It was important to take his medicine in the morning. Then, he could show the Nurse's Aid during her visit later and she would see that he was on top of things. It was important to do that. If they thought that he wasn't on top of things, he would end up in a nursing home. That would be a death sentence, so he made sure to take his medicine every day.

The pills were in a contraption with fourteen plastic boxes connected together. He found the box with 'Fri.-AM' etched in the lid. There were half-dozen pills of all shapes and colors in the little box. He swallowed them all and then half the glass of water. The 'Thur.-PM' box was still full. He had forgotten again. He emptied the offending box and threw the telltale pills away. He had to cover his tracks before the nurse found him out.

"I bet half of those are placebos," he said dismissively. He never trusted doctors, but didn't dare not trust them.

"Friday!" he reminded himself. He hobbled over to his desk, and opened the top drawer where no one ever looked. He took out another pill and swallowed it to join the others.

Albert started feeling less grumpy. Even the familiar thump outside his front door didn't bother him as much as usual. It was the newspaper delivery. By the sound he knew that it had bounced off the porch when the deliveryman tossed it. It would mean going out to retrieve it; an extra set of steps; longer time in the cold air; back up the steps again. Sometimes, when it happened in winter, he would just leave the paper out there, afraid of the ice. Today, he would take care of it.

"I've got to eat something. I need some breakfast," he said. He decided on orange juice and coffee. Anything more would be too much a bother. He shuffled to the kitchen to make it. He was a good cook.

********** 

At ten-thirty Albert heard the sharp rap on the door that he was expecting.

"Hello, Albert, it's Cindy!" a young, female voice called, and then Albert heard the door close. It was a lilting, pleasant, singing kind of voice that was neither shy nor tired. Albert liked that. Cindy never waited for him to come to the door. She knew that he expected her and she didn't want him to waste the energy getting up. 

"Hello, Cindy! C'mon in," Albert called back, even though he knew that she was already inside. It was a formality that he refused to dispense with. It was still his house. He could grant or deny access as he chose. In Cindy's case, he would give it. "You're always right on time."

"I see that you're just finishing breakfast," she said as she saw him still seated at the kitchen table, newspaper stretched out in front of him. "Did you eat a good one?"

"Yes, bacon and eggs!" Albert fibbed. "I already washed the dishes and put them away," he added quickly.

Cindy glanced back with a knowing look. "I see that you had some coffee and orange juice, too." 

Albert said nothing, sensing his deception was unsuccessful. He knew that he hadn't fooled her on his breakfast menu. He knew, too, that she wouldn't press it if he kept silent. That was one of the things that made Cindy different. The other nurses felt an obligation to react to his shortcomings. They would scold and cajole him like a naughty child, or 'tut-tut' him in a patronizing way. The worst was when they would lean over and bleed sympathy all over him. Cindy didn't. She just went along. She knew that he knew that she knew. No more needed to be said. That was just one reason why he liked her.

Cindy was in her mid thirties, a divorced mother of two teenagers. She nursed patients by day and her adolescents by night. She was short—about five-two—with a stocky build that came in handy when her elderly charges couldn't move by themselves. She wasn't fat; however, her white nurse's fatigues were far from flattering. She had a round dimpled face with straight blonde hair that fell to just below her ear. She was neither pretty nor homely, at least in the classic sense. A cheerful, woman always takes on a prettiness, even if her bone structure isn't quite right. Cindy always wore an unabashed smile, at least anytime that Albert ever saw her. He wondered how she could be so happy all the time. 

"Did you go out on any dates this week?" Albert pried. It was a question that he asked her on each visit. At his age, he reasoned, he was entitled to ask.

"No," she answered with a sigh. "I don't have any time. Those monsters of mine take up all of my time."

"You should make them help out around the house!" he growled. "When our kids were that age, Martha would..."

"I know!" she interrupted. "And you used to walk barefoot through the snow to a one- room school house when you were a boy. The nuns would beat you until you memorized the multiplication tables."

"You're right!" he countered. "Father Brophy gave them a special blessing if they drew blood."

They were quiet for a minute. They had been through the banter countless times. It was a Friday morning ritual. Cindy carefully took out her charts and checked to make sure that they were ready.

"Where do you want to start?" she asked. 

"The usual, I guess." Albert answered.

"Then let's check your meds." she began in her sing-song voice. She picked up the plastic organizer. She checked every box and recorded the pills in the full ones. She compared it to a list from her briefcase. "Good!" she exclaimed. "The boxes are empty right from Monday through this morning and the rest of the boxes have all the right pills in them."

Albert beamed like a schoolboy who had just won a spelling bee.

"There is a little problem, though." Cindy looked down into the waste paper basket where Albert knew that she saw last night's doses that he had thrown away. 

"Busted!" he mumbled and became downcast. "I fell asleep before I remembered to take them last night." He hoped that his excuse would earn him a reprieve.

"You shouldn't toss them out," she said, bending over to retrieve the abandoned pills. "They cost too much." Cindy put each rescued pill in its proper container.

"You're not going to tattle-tale on me, are you?" Albert pleaded.

"I should, you know, especially after that fib about your breakfast," she said with a grin. "I'll pretend that I didn't see it this time if you promise not to throw them away if you forget them again."

It was a basis for a truce.

"Let's get your vitals!" she resumed her routine. Cindy unzipped a black leather pouch and took out her blood pressure cuff and a stand with a little tube of mercury. She wrapped it around his right arm and pumped it full of air. "I don't know why you don't find a boyfriend." Albert resumed his earlier interrogation. 

"Shhh!" Cindy hushed him, and held up a digit to tell him to stay quiet while she listened to her stethoscope. 

"One thirty-five over ninety!" she announced. "Did you take every one of this morning's pills?" she interrogated him. He nodded 'yes'.

She wrote the number on a chart. "Open wide!" she ordered. Albert obeyed and Cindy placed a thermometer under his tongue. "At my age boyfriends are hard to find," she explained while they waited for the tone on the digital thermometer. "Most men my age are married or attached. Those who aren't run for cover when they hear that two kids come with the package. With a twelve and a fourteen year old in the house, I just can't bring someone home for the evening."

Albert nodded that he understood and the tone on the thermometer went off. Cindy read it and recorded the number. Finally it was time for her to record his pulse. It was one of Albert's favorite parts. Cindy placed a chair alongside his and sat down in it next to him. She took hold of his arm and turned it with the palm facing up so that she could place her fingers on proper place on his wrist. Then, she tucked his arm under her own to hold it in place. 

This wasn't Albert's favorite part because he was eager to know what his pulse was. His enjoyment was provided by Cindy's buxom figure. As her arm closed over his, and pressed against it from one side, her generous breast pressed against it from the other. Cindy always stared at her watch for a full sixty seconds while Albert sat silently, even though the nurses at his doctor's office needed only fifteen seconds. Albert dared not press back for fear that Cindy would withdraw the privilege. It was a passive pleasure that he was convinced was bestowed on him by Cindy because she liked him. 

"Your pulse is a little elevated today!" Cindy told him with a wry smile. 

"How could it not be with a cutie like you sitting here next to me?" he retorted.

"I don't feel very cute today," she answered. "I put on a few last week. My rear end is getting pretty chunky." 

"Bah!" Albert grunted. "That's nonsense. If I were a younger man..."

"It's too bad that you aren't," Cindy said with a laugh. "I wouldn't let my rear end get so chunky."

Albert shook his head, not agreeing with the point, but accepting the compliment.

"Are we ready to go upstairs?" Cindy asked.

"I guess so." Albert responded. He hoisted himself to his feet. Cindy helped him, but she had learned not to help him too much. 

"I should move to a ranch house so that everything would be on one floor." Albert declared as he hoisted himself from step to step. "I would, but I can't stand the thought of cleaning out all my stuff before I move." 

Cindy said nothing. She had heard it all before. We are all creatures of routine.

*********** 

"You can brush your teeth and shave while I run the bath," Cindy laid out the usual plan. 

Albert complied. Every Friday he bathed in hot water and Epsom Salts. It would loosen the muscles in his calves. Then Cindy massaged them to improve the circulation in his legs. 

Albert undressed and put on a terrycloth robe. The water was running in the tub. Cindy would run it extra hot. By the time Albert finished shaving it would be cooled down to just right. Albert shuffled into the bathroom. He sat on a stool for his daily ablutions. His knees and hips didn't allow him to stand long enough. His daughter bought him a makeup mirror for shaving. It was their secret. Cindy was in on it, too.

"How are we doing for time?" Albert called to Cindy over the sound of the water running in the tub. 

"We're doing fine." she answered. This is my last stop before lunch, anyway." She explained. "So, if we go a little over I can catch up."

"I'm ready to get in the tub, now." Albert informed her. 

Cindy checked the water to make sure that it wasn't too hot. Albert slipped off his robe and hung it on the hook on the door. He put one foot in the tub and Cindy held his arm under the elbow to keep him from slipping. Albert could negotiate a shower on his own, but sitting in a bathtub was another story. 

"You sure are strong!" Albert remarked to her. "It's a good thing—you having to hoist an old lard bucket like me." He didn't bother to mention his nakedness anymore, but he felt a need to apologize for his sagging physique. The procedure was old hat. It was strictly nurse and patient. 

Cindy didn't answer, choosing to concentrate on her task. If there ever was a time that Albert was going to get hurt, this was it. She was up to it, however, having done it many times. Albert felt secure. The first nurse that visited him was smaller and not so strong and it made Albert nervous. She seemed more intent on performing gyrations with Albert's robe to confine his nakedness in front of her to the shortest possible time.

Albert finally settled down in the water. It was really very relaxing. He splashed some water on his face to rinse away the remnants of the shaving lather and began sponging his arms.

"Hand me your brush and I'll do your back where you can't reach," she said. It was an extra service that Cindy wasn't supposed to perform, but Albert was one of her favorite patients. 

"Remember, you need to stay in here for twenty minutes," she said when she was done with his back. Run some hot water if it starts to get too cold. Yell if you need me. I won't be far away. I'll check on you in ten minutes." I was her routine mantra. She said it every time. Albert knew it by heart, but never interrupted her when she said it.

********* 

Cindy helped Albert from the tub exactly on schedule. She handed him his towel and went to the bedroom to wait for him while he dried himself. Albert threw on his robe and knotted the belt and shuffled to the bed and lay down on his stomach.

She sat down on a chair next to Albert's bed, even with his calves. Once he was situated she flipped the bottom of his robe up to reveal the back of his legs and began a deep, practiced massage into the muscles of each one. 

"Do you really think that it helps?" Albert asked.

"What does your doctor say?" she asked back.

"He only says nothing in a fancy way. It's his way of saying that he doesn't know without admitting it," Albert answered. "It makes the muscles feel good, anyway." He added, partly in truth and partly to assuage any of Cindy's feelings that he might have offended. 

"Do you like living all by yourself in this house, Albert?" she mused wistfully.

"Not really; not since Martha died," he said. "I've been here so long I wouldn't know what else to do."

"You don't want to go into a home, do you?" she went on.

"No, I couldn't take it. It's mostly women who live in those places. They're always telling you what to do—get on a bus to go to some flower show; have sing-a-longs; play canasta. I don't even know how to play canasta. It's lonely here, but at least I can run my own life." 

"Hey what's wrong with women?" Cindy challenged him, laughing, as she continued kneading his legs. "Women and men are meant to live together, at least certain men with certain women," she added wistfully.

"You know what I mean!" Albert answered. "I'm not against women, but each one takes getting used to, and at my age, I don't think that I could get used to one, let alone a lot of them."

"Don't you ever get lonely?" she asked, more as a comment than a question. "I do," She answered, not waiting for him. "Sure, the kids are there, but they're not interested in me anymore. I wish I could live with a man who is interested in me. He wouldn't have to be perfect, just decent. I would know how to please him."

"You haven't heard anything, have you?" Albert asked in a worried tone, reverting to the subject of the nursing home. "They're not going to have me put away?"

"No," Cindy replied, snapping out of her reverie. "It was just small talk. I would be the last to know, anyway." She kept kneading away. 

It was Albert's turn for silence. Cindy completed the massage with a series of mini karate chops to each of Albert's calves.

"All done with the legs!" Cindy's lilting voice returned. "Roll over on your back, please."

Albert moved to comply, but it always took a minute. Cindy was patient. He heard her putting the chair back in the corner. 

"Alright," he said. "I'm ready if you are." He looked up and he saw her standing next to the bed smiling down on him.

Cindy bent from the waist and pulled the terrycloth belt, releasing the knot. She grasped one lapel of the robe and drew it aside, then the other. 

"I can see you are ready!" she lilted. "How many Viagra's did you take?" she asked as she climbed onto the bed and knelt over him, straddling his knees. She had bared herself from the waist up and cast off her shoes while Albert was busy turning himself over. She leaned down, supporting her weight on her elbows.

"Just one," Albert asserted. 

"Well, it must have been a good one!" she said, her eyes widening slightly. "I've never seen you so hard." She moved forward so that her generous breasts hung along either side of Albert's hard member. She lowered herself a few inches more so that they caressed it. Her hardened nipples provided a delicious counterpoint to the softness of the ripened fruit. Albert let out an involuntary moan of pleasure at the first contact. She left them there for a few long seconds while Albert savored their touch and Cindy savored his reaction.




Something Special on Friday



"You don't have to do this for me, Cindy. You know that I can't do anything for you..."

"You say that every week," she interrupted. "I always tell you, 'it's our little treat.' I'm on my lunch hour now. I can do what pleases me."

She slid back down his body until she could look directly down at his penis. She wrapped her warm hands gently around the shaft and slowly worked them up over the crown. Albert allowed himself to enter a world of bliss.

"I just love to please a man," she purred.

Cindy let her hand slip down to the base, a little more tightly this time so that the foreskin was stretched back and he was open to pleasure. She bent a little lower and nuzzled the mushroom head in her lips. Albert was groaning.

"Do I please you, Albert?" she whispered as she lifted her head for a few moments. Albert nodded. "I love it when you tell me that I please you," she said with a little giggle. She dove down, engulfing all of him deep in her throat. Albert gasped at the intense sensation.

Cindy slowly tightened her mouth around him, gradually creating a suction that threatened to pull the semen out of him. She knew just how to bring him to the brink, and then pull back so that the cycle could begin anew. There would be a new round of nibbling, perhaps an application of a moistened tip of the tongue to some special points, then reswallowing him. When she decided that it was time, she wouldn't pull back, but hold the suction a little longer. She would hold it until she felt him pulse, spasm slightly. He would be at the point of no return. She would back off just a tiny bit so that he could flow at his own speed, into her waiting mouth, past her sweet lips that spoke and sang so sweetly to him. She would wait until he was finished before releasing him. Then, it would be almost time to go. He would thank her as she put her clothes on. She never feared that he would disclose their sessions to another soul. It was their secret.

This time she broke the familiar rhythm. "I love to please you Albert. I need a man to please. I want to please you." When she would speak to him during her fellatio it was usually to urge and excite him. This was different. She posed an explanation to him, or perhaps to herself. Albert barely heard her. He was panting in expectation, certain that she would shortly return to her task. Cindy looked down at him. He was so needful of her every ministration, and so grateful and accepting of it. She beamed at her gentle expertise. She started to bend to finish what she started, but held back.

"Why not?" she said out loud to herself. She lifted off him and off the bed. Albert looked at her with a confused expression.

"How about something special?" she asked. Albert was too puzzled to answer.

Cindy opened the closure on her nurse's white pants and slid them down her legs. Her panties quickly followed. She didn't bother with her white knee-high hose. There was no need to waste time. Cindy knew that she was already moistened; she checked just the same.

"Just stay where you are, Albert." she panted. She felt her own excitement building. "Let me do everything."

Cindy resumed her place on Albert's bed. She licked him to test his hardness. Then, she sidled up his body so that she was looking directly into his eyes. Neither of them said a word. What words were needed? Albert saw Cindy's smile and her sparkling eyes. It assured him that she had her own reasons; that she needed him along for the ride. He was willing to go where she would take him.

Cindy wasted no time. She reached back and positioned Albert at her entrance. In a second she sank down and he was deep inside her. It had been years since Albert had been in this familiar place. It still felt as good as it used to. He looked up at Cindy and wondered how long it been for her. She had thrown her head back with her mouth agape, as if to scream her wondrous pleasure, but no sounds escaped her. Her pendulous breasts swung above him, so Albert reached up with both his hands and held them.

After about half a minute, Cindy began moving up and down on him. On the upstroke she squeezed him. As she plunged back down, she released her grip. Over again, she rose up and down. Pleasure and tension started building. With each passing second the accumulation was more rapid. Before long, it erupted, as Albert poured everything he had into her. It wasn't as great a pouring as in his younger days, of course, but his appreciation of it was, perhaps, greater than in bygone years. 

When he finally softened Cindy rose off him. They didn't kiss. There were no 'I love you's'. Albert's energy was spent. He stayed on the bed as she went into the bathroom to clean up. He remained in place as he watched her get dressed.

"Cindy", he finally gasped. "I never thought that I..."

"I wanted to please you." she said. "I wanted to please a man." 

Suddenly her expression and demeanor changed from courtesan back to nurse. 

"Be sure to remember your meds," she reminded him. "And please try to eat better."

She left Albert in the bedroom and went downstairs. She put on her coat and packed her equipment and charts. 

"I left some more Viagra for you on your desk," she called to him as he struggled to his feet.

Albert heard her footsteps and the front door close. He heard her car door slam shut and the motor start. 

She was gone. 

Until Friday.

THE END

*

Dear Readers,

Thanks for reading. I always welcome your comments and questions.

Autumn Writer



Something Special Under the Tree



I awoke, dazed and dreary, with eyelids seemingly of stone. I had been to a Christmas Eve Office party with my wife last night. Ah, my wife, Suzanne, she's way out of my league, at least that's what everyone tells me anyway. She looks like she should be in Playboy or Victoria's Secret, and I should be in Joe Schlub Weekly. It's not that I'm bad looking, it's just that in comparison, and just about everything looks bad compared to my wife. Meanwhile, I was slowly waking up. I realized my wife was not lying next to me, I reach over, and nothing. I looked at the clock and noticed that it was 9 o'clock, and Christmas morning. Although this is typically sad for us, it reminds my wife how she is barren, and cannot have children of her own. I managed out of bed and took a quick shower, we had no real plans for the day, our families both living many miles away, and my job not allowing me to travel. We usually just sit around and watch TV, or have sex, which are our 2 favorite pastimes. 

I put on some jeans and a T-shirt and walked downstairs, still not knowing where my wife was. I turned right at the bottom of the stairs, and saw an incredibly large package sitting next to our tree, it couldn't fit under it, due to the large size of it. I walked into the room, when I heard a voice. 

"Hey sleepyhead, I was getting worried about you." She said and stood up from her spot on the couch. She was dressed in a Mrs. Claus outfit, however it looked like Mrs. Claus was a hooker according to this interpretation. It was red spandex bodysuit, with the typical white trim, but this outfit left nothing to the imagination, it was low cut to show off my wife's cleavage and high to show off her great legs. It fit perfectly everywhere, and she was enjoying having my full attention. She walked toward me, emphasizing her hips for the few steps she had to take. "I got you a present," she said, moving her finger up and down my chest. "Open it" she said, and was seemingly anxious for me to do so.

The present was extremely large, just as tall as my 6'2" height, and had to be 3' wide and deep. It was white, and had a red ribbon going around it, and which tied in a bow at the top. I looked skeptically at my wife, who was watching intently at my every move. I undid the ribbon by standing on my tiptoes, and was nearly knocked to the ground when the 4 sides fell outward upon the bow being untied. I cursed at myself for not noticing that they were only being held together by the bow. However, upon looking at what was just uncovered took those thoughts out of my mind and replaced them with new, dirty thoughts. There standing in a damsel in distress costume, (kind of like that chick in the old Dudley-Do-Right cartoons that always got tied to the tracks) was one of my wife's friends, Melissa. She is built top-heavy, and by built I mean surgically made. She had a petite body type, but had implants, which made her chest much larger than the rest of her. She is a very beautiful woman, and in the costume she had on, she could have made guys walk into a pole staring at her. She had a post-it note on her chest, which I went up to her to see. Upon coming closer to her, I discovered that her wrists were bound behind her. I grabbed the note off of her; it was handwritten, and said:

Honey, 

I know about your fantasy, and wanted to make it come true. She and I are both yours for the day, for whatever you want. This is your Christmas present, I know that all three of us will enjoy it. 

Your Loving Wife

This came a shock to me, as my wife and I had both discussed our fantasies, but had never discussed ever acting them out. I then remembered that I had two women who were going to do whatever I told them. Thoughts began flowing through my brain, and blood began flowing into my groin. I led Melissa up the stairs, and told my wife to go upstairs to our bedroom, and to get out all of our toys. While leading Melissa up the stairs I was able to get a great look at Melissa's abundant cleavage. Her hands were bound behind her back, which forced her chest out even more, adding to my view. Upon our entry into the bedroom, I undid the ties on her wrists, and instructed my wife to secure Melissa onto the bed.

My wife straddled Melissa's chest, and handcuffed her wrists and legs to the posts of the bed, with a minor struggle from Melissa, who knew that if she did get away she would miss out on what I had planned for us. My wife then went to the box of toys and such, and grabbed a ball gag, and stuffed it into Melissa's mouth. My wife then began to kiss Melissa's neck, and felt her breasts through the costume. I pulled a chair from my desk, and placed it next to the bed to watch and then signaled for my wife to come over to me.

"Honey, I appreciate this present very much. Now I want you to ravage Melissa with anything, and in anyway you want to." I said to her, and held her chin up to make sure she was paying attention to me. Then I kissed her, and motioned for her to go take care of Melissa. She began sucking on Melissa's tits and fondling them. She then straddled her chest and began rubbing her pussy with Melissa's breasts, and then she spread her pussy over one breast, engulfing it. My wife was quickly getting herself to orgasm, and kept closing her eyes in enjoyment. My wife then took off the ballgag, and shoved her wet pussy right into Melissa's waiting mouth.

"Eat my pussy, slut," My wife managed to scream between moans and other sounds of pleasure. She then began cumming violently all over Melissa's face. She then rolled back, laying her back, spent from the previous sexcapades. I looked at Melissa, whose mouth was glistening was from my wife's juices. She had a pure, unadulterated, look of lust on her face. She was incredibly wet after what my wife had just done to her. My wife had still not recovered so I got up and grabbed handcuffs from the toy box. I turned my wife over so her and Melissa were stomach to stomach, and cuffed my wife's wrists to Melissa's, and did the same to her ankles. My wife awoke from her rest, and began grinding her pussy onto Melissa's, they then began kissing sloppily, their tongues going everywhere. I slapped my wife's ass, and grabbed a vibrator out of the box. 

I began sliding it in and out of their pussies, they began dripping, their moans began to increase, and they bucked their hips, trying to keep the vibrator inside them, but at the same time, rubbing their pussies together. Then I shoved the vibrator fully into my wife's dripping cunt. Then I pulled out my hardening member, and put it into Melissa's sex. It slid in nice and smooth, as her pussy was incredibly lubricated. My cock was able to slide in and out of her easily, I pushed my wife's ass down, so her pussy could feel the rhythm, and so that Melissa could feel the vibrator. The three of us began moaning and screaming, as I increased my tempo. I slapped my wife's ass, and could feel Melissa's orgasm breaking through and thrust deeper finishing her off.

"OOOOAAHHHHHHHH" She screamed loudly, finally releasing her sexual energy. I pulled out of Melissa, and put my hard cock into my wife's asshole, and thrust hard, spreading her ass open. My cock and balls tightened and I slammed into my wife one last time, and shot my load far into her. She came softly, having spent her energy earlier. I uncuffed the two of them, and we laid in bed for the rest of the day, watching TV until our bodies recovered.