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The Locket

By: AuralSects69



Some years ago when I was a senior in college, I wanted to get my girlfriend, Gina, something special for Valentine's Day. Gina had a very earthy quality about her. She wasn't blond, bony and plastic like so many mass produced Barbies. Although she was born in New York, her Italian heritage shown through as if she had just stepped off a ship from Milan. Her light brown eyes were a captivating contrast to her rich, long black hair that curled ever so slightly at the ends. She had full, red lips with a smile that could warm the coldest and dreariest of days. Describing her body as sexy and sensual would have been like saying a Stradivarius is a pretty good fiddle. And every single quality of her physical beauty was equaled by some aspect of her inner beauty. No matter how angry, sad or upset I was, she could instantly change my mood for the better simply by holding me her in her arms. As long as I had her by my side, the earth was heaven.

I didn't have much money to spend on her gift, but I did have enough for a little heart-shaped locket. It was gold plated and about one inch by one inch. Certainly big enough for a small photo, but instead I had it engraved. The father of a friend of mine was a jeweler and he was nice enough to do it for free. I asked him to engrave the word "love" inside on both sides of the locket, a number of times, in different sizes and fonts, to symbolize the fact that I loved Gina in many different ways. Romantically. Sexually. As a companion. A confidant.

Her parents were kind enough to have dinner out on Valentine's Day, so Gina and I were able to spend a nice, quiet, romantic evening alone at her house. After dinner, I presented her with the locket as well as a card. 

"I wanted to get you something very special, so I decided to give you the most precious thing I have," I told her.

She opened up the box and then the locket. She was delighted with my present. Then I told her to look at the card. After opening the envelope, she read the card and began to cry. Through her tears, she read aloud what I had written.

"The most precious gift I could ever give you, is all the love I have in my heart." Seconds later we were making love on her parents' couch. We did finish up before they got home, but it only added to the excitement knowing that they might walk in on us at any time.

I don't think I was ever happier at any time in my entire life. The few months before my graduation could not have been better. Even though I had to go to school in another state for my graduate work while she finished up her senior year in New York, I was sure the few months until winter break, then spring break, then the summer would just fly by.

We phoned each other all the time. I tried to write her at least one love letter a month so that when we were older, she'd always have some romantic, loving and sensually charged words of mine that she could always take out and read whenever she needed a pick-me-up. I was lucky to have Gina and, quite frankly, I thought she was lucky to have me.

At this point let me emphasize that I said I thought she was lucky to have me. When we were together during the winter break, I was just so happy to be with her again that I was blind to the subtle changes in her. Looking back on it now, I'm able to see that she wasn't as enthusiastic about being with me as she normally was. She was preoccupied with something else. Even our lovemaking wasn't what it should have been, especially after almost four months without.

Spring break was even worse. She said she had an important project for class and that she needed the time to work on it. And if I went to New York, she would end up spending all of her time with me and none of her project would get done. That was the big red flag warning me, but while hindsight may be 20/20, love is often blind. Some time before the end of school, I phoned her to discuss our plans. Do we live with her parents or mine while we look for our own place? If one of us lines up a plum job, maybe we would live together in our own place right away. She finally had to come clean.

"Maybe we shouldn't rush into anything. In fact, some time apart might do us some good."

Time apart? I was confused by her suggestion. "We've already been apart since September. Being together is what might do us some good." She didn't respond for a few moments, and when she did, it was the last thing I wanted to hear.

"I can't see you anymore. I've…sort of fell in love with somebody else." My brain just shut down when I heard that. I had imagined I'd be spending the next fifty years of my life with this woman. I already had a list of possible names for our children.

"I did an internship at a brokerage firm last semester and, well, there was a really nice guy there. Bradley. We were just friends, but we have so much in common. We get along so well. It's like we're mirror images of each other. He's…well he's my soul mate." Those were the words that reactivated my brain because they felt like a knife going through me.

"I thought we were soul mates."

"I did, too. But if we were, I would never be able to feel this way about Brad. I never meant to hurt you. For the longest time Brad and I were just friends, then…."

"You never really loved me, did you?"

"That's not true! I did love you. I still do but…not nearly as much as Brad." That was the knife being twisted around. Maybe if she didn't love me, it would have been easier to let go. I call her a bitch or slut or golddigger and get on with my life. But I knew that wasn't true. She genuinely did love me and that's what made it so hard to let go.

"We can still be friends, though."

"Can we?" I asked. "Breaking up with me has already broken my heart. Seeing you as a friend and knowing that we could never be anything more? That would eat away at my heart until there was nothing left inside of me."

The last time I heard from her was a few days later when she sent me the love letters I had written her along with the locket. I burned the letters and broke the locket in half, but couldn't throw it away. My friends and relatives all gave me the requisite sympathy. Telling me I was too good for her, there are plenty of fish in the sea, et cetera, et cetera. They spared no effort in trying to find me a new girlfriend, and succeeded on many occasions, but what they never understood was…while it's incredibly easy to find a new girlfriend, it's almost impossible to find a new soul mate.

Every Valentine's Day I take out the box that I keep the broken locket in. I look at it and wonder…will I ever find someone else that I can give this locket to, or will my broken, little heart remain hidden away inside this box, unused and unappreciated, until the day I die?

The Locket



I flopped down among the purple pillow forest that was my queen bed, and opened the increasingly scant classified section. Tapping a red pen to my lips, I immediately crossed out all the jobs offered through temp agencies. After several extremely unsuccessful experiences I was pretty sure they only stayed in business by collecting and distributing personal information. 

I scanned the remaining jobs, curling a lock of honey colored hair over my ear. Several positions were open for registered nurses. I doubt being a lifeguard for a summer qualifies me, though at this point it's worth a shot, I mused sarcastically. I had lost my job at a small law firm when they went out of business several weeks ago. I had saved enough money to get by for at least six months, but with the economy the way it was, I couldn't afford to be without a job for long.

Experienced manager; live-in babysitter; administrative manager; civil engineer; dentist; model... It wasn't shaping up to be a lucrative day in the classifieds when I spotted an ad in small letters at the very bottom of the page: 

Santa's elves wanted during holiday season. Prefer female. $7.25/hr. 8am-5pm. Apply in person.

For a moment I took offense at the "Prefer female" clause, but I figured at the very least it would improve my chances of getting the job. Seeing nothing else of merit, I decided to go for it. 

I quickly got dressed in my "interview outfit" which consisted of a royal blue button up shirt, a black vest over it, slacks and heels. I swapped the slacks with a pair of pressed jeans, as this job didn't exactly seem to be searching for gems. They get what they pay for: $7.25 an hour is not a slacks-worthy wage. I polished the lenses on a pair of black rectangular glasses and hooked them over my ears. They weren't prescription, but I thought they made me look serious. I pulled my long sun-kissed hair up into a ponytail and was click-clicking out the door in 20 minutes.

The rental office was in an upstairs part of the mall I'd never seen before, and by the looks of the place, I almost regretted coming. Metal chairs lined a reception area and beyond the front counter, several rooms with big windows appeared to be similarly appointed. The wallpaper was peeling where it met the ceiling and the stained linoleum floor. A few ancient sounding vending machines groaned from some where down the hall. Behind the reception counter, a dark-haired man in his early thirties leered at me before handing me a clipboard with an application; the pen hooked under the clip had teeth marks in the plastic. The only exception to this nightmare was a gorgeous brunette in a black pencil skirt and a red satin top filling out the same application I had been given. I sat across from her in an uncomfortable metal chair. Being a bit of a germaphobe, (particularly on the occasion of handling objects that have clearly been in foreign orifices) I dug my own pen out of my purse and went to work. I couldn't help but steal glances at her as I answered the surprisingly long list of questions. 

Name: Chloe Hunter. Her shiny brown curls stopped just above her considerable chest. Date of birth: 7/13/87. Her pencil skirt betrayed her long and unseasonably tan legs, which looked even longer in her red heels. E-mail: Pinkraspberries@hotmail.com. Telephone: 310-378 – I was interrupted when the girl across from me shifted around and was suddenly sitting next to me. She smelled like mangoes. I kept my eyes on the box asking for related experience, without attempting to fill it in.

"Excuse me, would you mind letting me borrow your other pen? This one's dead." She held up the pen in question. I looked up into green eyes, framed by long thick lashes. Her head was turned to the side, her heart shaped face so serious it almost made me giggle. Her full pink lips were glistening with gloss. I blushed.

"Uh, yeah," I replied eloquently and slipped the teeth-marked pen from under the clip. When she took it from me, one of her polished fingertips brushed lightly against my hand. My stomach flip- flopped and goose bumps started to rise on my right leg. I was glad they were covered by jeans. My face, which had just recovered from the preceding flash of heat, lit anew. 

I scrawled down the rest of my information as quickly as I could and turned it in to the man behind the counter, who, upon closer examination, was fairly good-looking. He ran a hand through his messy dark hair before he looked up from my application to flash a polite smile,"Thanks, Chloe. Please have a seat, I'll call you when I'm ready for you." He was muscular, and probably tall too, but I didn't like the way he openly looked me up and down. His brown eyes had lingered a little too long at my modest cleavage. I had never liked being gawked at by men. 

When I turned around to go back to my seat, I almost bumped into the pen girl. "Oops." We engaged in the ever awkward get-out-of-my-way dance. I blushed again.

"Oh, sorry!" she laughed and flashed a huge white-toothed grin at me before steadying me with her free (and ever so soft) hand, side-stepping wide to the right of me. She had an adorable giggle.

I reclaimed my seat, put my red face down and did not look up until it cooled off. When she returned, she sat right back down next to me. "I'm Riley, by the way."

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Chloe." I replied breathlessly, entranced by her sparkling green eyes. God, she's absolutely stunning. She gripped my hand harder than I would have expected and I gripped right back.

"I'm just wondering, have you had previous elf experience? I just want to get an idea of what my competition is." I mistook her frown for genuine concern, until I noticed it beginning to curl at the edges. She was frowning to keep from laughing at her own joke. I giggled.

"Well, I have been on the good list for seven years running. And last year, Santa and I officially got on a first-name basis. No big deal." I leaned back and laced my fingers behind my head. She threw her head back to laugh, and looked back at me with that too-big grin which oddly seemed to suit her face. We exchanged corny jokes, and it was, surprisingly, genuinely fun; until we heard the man from the counter approaching.

"Ladies, if you'll follow me I'd like to interview you together." Standing up, the scruffy man was several inches taller than Riley and I, who were roughly the same height, even in heels. Riley looked at me with a smile with her head tilted toward the man. Yeah, I guess he is attractive. For a guy and all. I shrugged at her and we followed him to the first interview room on the right.

He shuffled through a folder full of papers once we were all settled around the flimsy table. The same metal chairs inhabited this room. It's probably because these are the only chairs no one would bother to steal, I thought with a snicker. 

 After asking and answering a few basic situational questions the man, Scott, cleared his throat. "Now I was only looking to hire one of you, but..." An out of place, and seemingly private, smile touched the corners of his full lips, "I'd like to take both of you on.... The hours are like the ad, eight to five. You get Mondays off and I'll let you out early the rest of the week if business is slow. We start the week after Thanksgiving."

"We?" I asked.

He did not look up as he said it, merely scratched at his scruffy face and continued to flip through the folder, "Yeah, us three. I'm Santa." 

I stole a sidelong glance at the grin on Riley's face. "Oh," was all I could manage.

"I'll be buying new costumes online this year, so I'll e-mail you for your sizes. We take a $30 deposit out of your first paycheck as insurance, but you'll get that back at the end of the season." He was scribbling on the papers he'd been hunting for, which he then offered to us for our signatures.

I briefly considered not signing them as I had some ideas where this threesome was headed, or rather, where the two of them were headed after I went back home to my apartment, alone. But when I looked up, Riley quickly scooped up the pen and wrote Riley Fredericks in neat cursive on the line. She then offered it to me with a smile on her gorgeous face, "I have a feeling Ms. Thing over here is going to rock the outfit."

 Well, It might not be so bad, I thought, attempting to hide my smile and deny my growing crush on the goddess sitting next to me, and besides, I need the money. I stole one last glance at her slender waist before I signed the papers and pushed them back across the table to Scott.

"I guess we'll see you in three weeks, then," Riley said as she got up. We shook hands with our new boss before we went our separate ways.

We had been working together for roughly two weeks, and by now, thankfully, my constant blushing had become more manageable most likely due to the ridiculous outfits we donned everyday. We wore red and white striped stockings with uncomfortable control tops (useless, too, I might add; Riley certainly didn't need them and I had always been on the slim side), baggy green shorts and itchy green sweaters. To top it all off we had to bobby pin stocking caps over our hair and wear preposterous foam pieces over our shoes to make it look as if we were wearing the traditional elven shoes. Fortunately, I had invested in a knee length white wool coat several years ago which made walking to and from the parking lot bearable. Scott, on the other hand, hid his muscular body under a makeshift fat suit (he showed us at one point that it was basically a bag of man shaped stuffing sewn onto suspenders). He wore the typical Santa getup and spent the entire eight hours of the day sitting in a over-sized chair surrounded by plastic reindeer and blinking lights.

We had quickly learned to avoid the whiny brats and the chatty parents as much as possible by hiding out in the "toy workshop," which was really where the photos were developed. I had somehow talked Scott into believing that we did so because kids today thought elves were elusive and we were only trying to keep up with the traditions. As a trade off, we did most of the photo processing (which had previously been automatically taken care of with some extremely buggy software) and actually increased the sales by doing a bit of "photo enhancement," as we called it, before presenting the finished product on an HD monitor to the parents roughly ten at a time. 

Riley seemed a little disappointed at first that she and Scott never got a chance to flirt with the little kids around. Still, as was like to happen, we became fast friends. Not only because we spent most of our days in close quarters with each other, but because since I admitted to myself that I was a lesbian, every girl I'd ever had a crush on ended up being my best friend. I could never work up the courage to tell them the truth about me, so I settled for basically spending every precious moment as close to them as possible. Those relationships usually ended when my "friend" got a boyfriend.

I had only ever been with one girl. One very drunk girl I met at a bar the night I turned 21. Her name was Amber. I never got her last name. I think she was straight; looking back, I'm pretty sure she only started making out with me as a means to get attention from some douchey guy and his three friends. She drank way too much before the night had even begun and didn't seem to know where her friends had gone to by the time she wanted to leave. I offered her a ride home but she was too drunk to give me coherent directions to her house. So I took her back to the small house I had recently moved into. I was kind of excited to have found someone I thought was another lesbian. Okay, I was absolutely ecstatic. I wanted to ask her how she found the courage to come out and where exactly the lesbian scene was in my hometown. I wanted to know her struggle. I wanted to know their struggles. I wanted a niche in the lesbian community. 

I had to carry her up the concrete steps to the second floor, then do some serious juggling to get the door unlocked. My roommates, who had been a couple for nearly two years, were currently watching Heroes on the couch,. They were several years older than I was, and both worked at a software company in town. We still didn't know each other very well. I had only agreed to living with them because I didn't think any of my friends would be responsible enough to live with comfortably. The broke up their cuddle-fest as I struggled to help Amber through the door.

"Hey Chloe, how was your birthday?" Cameron asked absently, while Amy, looking up, simultaneously said, "Holy shit, is she okay?"

I steadied Amber and replied, "Yeah, she had too much at the bar. She's gonna crash in my room tonight." Amber's head lolled to the side.

"It's only one o'clock!" Amy said, "How is she already that trashed?"

"Let me help you." Cameron hoisted Amber up like a baby and carried her to my bed.

I went to the kitchen to grab some water, thinking it might ward off the hangover she had coming. On my way back to my room, Cameron and Amy informed me they were going to a friend's party and were probably going to stay there so they could both get drunk. I was suspicious that they were trying get out of celebrating the remainder of my big 21 (as if I would somehow be offended), but I didn't say anything about it.

I thought Amber was already asleep when I got back to my room, but she was actually starting to come around, "Thanks for helping me Kelsey."

"Um, no problem. But it's Chloe. How are you feeling?" I set the water down on my nightstand.

"So good," she slurred, "your bed is comfy." She patted it, beckoning me closer.

As soon as I sat down next to her she started kissing me. One thing led to another and soon my virginity was a thing of the past. At the time, I imagined our encounter was a beautiful conjoining of two female bodies. Later I realized that it was just sloppy drunk sex. In the morning, Amber was gone. I was confused and heartbroken for several weeks after. I had never told anyone I was a lesbian. I never even made my interests transparent to those around me. I couldn't. My hometown of Bethesda, California, an average sized city not far from Beverly Hills, was pretty conservative for what it was. Amber was the first person I mistakenly thought I could share my true self with. But that was nearly a year ago and after graduation I had moved up north.

Riley interrupted my train of thought when she bounced up and announced cheerfully that Scott had a doctor's appointment this afternoon and wouldn't be back until two o'clock. "And a long lunch for him means a long lunch for us!" 

It was a slow day so we put up a sign with our time of return. Scott changed into fitted jeans and a pressed button up shirt in the toy workshop. When he emerged, Riley commented, "Look at you! I wish Santa looked like that. I'd be good all year." She mimicked brushing off his shoulders and giggled.

He put a hand on the small of her back and replied, "If elves looked like the two of you, I'd gladly be freezing my balls off in the Arctic about."

I blushed. Riley laughed at me. We joked around for a minute or two before Scott took off for his appointment. That gave Riley and I two hours to hang out and look around the mall a little for Christmas presents. 

We made the most of our time. We quickly ordered from our favorite Chinese place and went outside to the small patio to gobble it down. It was still snowing, but it felt good to temporarily escape the noise of the mall. I threw our trash away and when I turned back around, a snowball hit me in the shoulder, followed by Riley's adorable giggles.

"You're in so much trouble, Rye!" I bent down to scoop up some snow, and another ball of ice hit my shoe.

"What are you talking about? I was a pitcher for eight years!" she called back, crouching behind a low concrete wall. "I know you're not going to kick that snowball at me so bring it, Ms. I-Was- Captain-of-the-Soccer-Team."

My first ball skimmed over her head but when she showed herself to laugh at my miss, I nailed her in the stomach. Our snowball fight went on until we were breathless and our noses were red. 

After taking refuge in the mall for warmth, we decided to go to Macy's to try on the clearance stuff. It was busy, but we knew to take all of our picks to the dressing room behind the old ladies' coats. There was no one but a bored looking girl with braces assigned to it who informed us she was going to take her break but would be happy to send someone over to help us. 

"Oh don't worry about it, girl. We'll put all these go-backs away when we're done. Go take an extra long break, you look like you could use it." The girl cast a shifty eye toward a plump redhead behind a customer service desk across the way. "...And in case you get in trouble," Riley continued, "we'll tell your manager how much you helped us out today. I'm assuming she's the redhead in the women's department?"

The girl flashed a big metal smile and nodded before she left us alone.

"What was that about?" I asked as we organized all of our clothes in the over-sized fitting room at the end of the hall.

"I used to work retail back home. Worst job ever." She thought it over a moment and added with a wink, "Well aside from the current one, of course."

I laughed and retorted, "Hey, at least you get to work with a friend!"

"Has someone been telling you we're friends? I'm just going to go ahead and let you know they were lying to you." She teased and gave my arm a squeeze. "Well, at least we have some man candy to drool over all day too!"

I hid my disappointment by turning away to rearrange clothes according to color. Yup, I can see it coming. Prince Scott Charming will sweep Riley off her feet any day now. Mrs. Riley Chase. Ugh.

A couple seconds of sorting passed before she touched my shoulder to turn me back to her, "How long have you lived around here?" 

"I actually just moved up about a year ago" I answered. After I told her a little about the law office I worked at before it went under she asked when I was going back home for Christmas, what with work literally extending to Christmas Eve.

"I'm not. I didn't want to go home for Christmas. I'm an only child so my parents decided they would finally go out to some Christmas parties with their old friends. It's no big deal. I'm not exactly a devout Christian anyway" I explained as I my elven clothes off, happy to have the itchy sweater off my back. I slipped on a Roxy long sleeve and some jeans.

"Oh, that shirt looks good," she commented when she looked up from her own selection of clothes. "Yeah I'm not going home either. I'm from Rhode Island and plane tickets around this time are really expensive. Money's tight right now, ya know? It bums me out. I'm making my mom an electronic scrapbook, though, and she's doing the same so we can trade for the holidays. I should actually get a picture of you so she can finally put a face to your name!"

I briefly wondered what she had been saying to her mom about me when Riley started to strip down. She had her shorts and stockings off and was pulling her sweater up over her big tits. She had trouble getting her head and arms out and for a moment my eyes could wander over the parts I had constantly been denying them. Her perfect ass was peaking out of a pair of white lacy boy shorts, her long, toned legs looked even better out of the stockings. My eyes were making their way up her taught stomach when she freed her head from the sweater and laughed. I quickly busied myself with trying on a new t-shirt. 

I could feel warmth spreading in my panties already. I had just removed the Roxy long sleeve when Riley commented, "Oh I love that bra, where'd you get it?"




The Locket



My face flushed. I was glad I had chosen to wear my lacy purple number I had purchased on a whim from a lingerie boutique when I took a day trip to Los Angeles with a soccer buddy. "It's from Amoureux. A little shop in LA," I breathed.

She was moving across the large dressing room toward me, her head tilted in a much too serious expression, one soft hand outstretched, "May I?"

"Uh..." I was confused. I looked down at my average sized breasts, tucked into the bra in question so that I would have some decent cleavage. Then Riley's hand entered my field of vision. As her index finger gently began to trace over the lace, a thousand tiny bumble bees buzzed from her touch to the rest of my body. She gently cupped my right, then my left breast over the purple fabric. My jealous pussy ached for her attention. The feeling of her skin so close to mine made it suddenly feel like it was a thousand degrees in the room. Riley was practically groping me. Wait, she is groping me! My jaw had nearly touched the floor at this point. I slowly looked up at her curious green eyes; they remained focused on my chest. She was alternating slowly between gently tracing the outlines of my bra and lightly squeezing my breasts together. I unconsciously began leaning forward. Don't kiss her, you idiot! Stop! Stop! But my momentum kept its slow, steady crawl forward. My eyes were intent on her full raspberry lips. Closer. Closer. I could smell her spearmint breath. I was mere inches away.

A knock on our dressing room door startled me back to reality, "Do you two need any help in there? Can I get you a change of sizes or anything?" The high pitched voice must've come from the teenager back from her break.

Riley kept her hands on my bra and called over her shoulder, "No, thanks, girl. We're all good in here." We heard the girl shuffle away before Riley met my eyes. "It's nice. I'll have to go there some day. Amoureux, you said?" She gave my breasts an imperceptibly light squeeze before she turned back to try on more clothes. It wasn't until that moment that I noticed Riley had been in nothing but her bra and panties the whole time. Her ass cheeks peeked out of her boy shorts as she crossed the spacious dressing room. The moisture escaping from my slick pussy nearly tripled. I awkwardly turned back to the rack to select a royal blue dress to try next.

It was 1:50 by the time we had finished our browsing. There wasn't anything else we wanted to do, so we hid in the toy shop to wait for Scott's return.

"Chloe, would you mind rubbing my neck again?" It was the second time this week and probably the fifteenth time since we had known each other. She had been a passenger in a car accident several months ago and her neck and shoulders were constantly tight as a result. I never minded massaging it; in fact, it was a joy to have constant lengthy contact with her body, and she would occasionally let out the sexiest moans. Just thinking about it prompted a new wetness in my panties.

"Of course. Have a seat." Her white grin lit up her face as she quickly took a seat on the floor in front the computer chair I was sitting in. 

"What would I do without you?" 

I chuckled and brushed her long dark hair over her shoulders. We chatted about Christmas traditions as I worked on the tension in her neck and shoulders. She peered at me upside down when she confessed, "I absolutely love to decorate the Christmas tree. Give me a hot mocha and music and I'd go crazy on the whole house before too long."

I made a face. "I hate Christmas music."

"No, trust me I do too," she giggled. "Jack used to make Christmas mixes every year that were... not exactly Neil Diamond singing Little Drummer Boy."

"Like what?" It was not the first time I had heard Jack's name, so my stomach only dropped a little at the sound of it this time. He was her college sweetheart and they had dated nearly all four years.

"Oh, at first it was mainly just Metallica. He used to call it 'Metal Christmas' and started adding others like AC/DC, Black Sabbath, Judas Priest and Van Halen. He insisted that I get in touch with my inner 80's, since we were born at the end of the decade..." She looked down as she trailed off, as if remembering some painful moment, "I broke up with Jack toward the end of college to date Taylor Davidson for like six months. Tay found all the CDs Jack made me over our Christmases together and broke them all before accusing me of cheating." She sighed and shook her head at the memory. "Anyway, I'm pretty bummed I won't be decorating a tree this year, almost as much as not being able to go home to see my family." Her shoulders slumped.

"Why don't you come to my apartment and we can decorate a tree together?" The question left my lips before I really thought of how wonderful an evening that would be. My chest immediately filled with hopeful anticipation.

She broke away from my hands to turn her big puppy dog eyes on me. "Really? That sounds perfect! Chloe, do you think we could do it on Christmas Eve?" She thought a second and added, "Unless you had other plans… I don't want to impose or anything."

"No, I actually hadn't made any plans other than a bottle of wine and some movies on Christmas Eve."

"Really! Oh my gosh, you have no idea how excited I am! I absolutely love Christmas! I'll stop by WalMart and get some decorations tonight!" She was on her knees in between my legs but managed to wrap her arms around my stomach for a tight squeeze. Her touch was immediately intoxicating. I leaned forward to squeeze back. Her hair smelled like cherry blossoms. With her face pressed to my stomach she added, "We should invite Scott too! Oh Chloe I'm so excited!" 

Oh yes, good idea, let's invite Scott so you guys can have sex on my couch, I thought in a flash of anger, but I took a breath and replied, "Yeah, you should go ask him." I had said it with about half as much enthusiasm as she had. Funny, because I said it with twice as much enthusiasm as I have about the whole idea, but she didn't seem to notice: when she pulled back her too-big smile lit up her heart shaped face. She stood and fluttered out of the toyshop since it was already five minutes past two o'clock.

I peeked out the door and saw Riley bound up to Scott with a smile. They talked for a minute before Riley evidently began pitching the idea, gesturing excitedly toward the plastic Christmas tree we had set up in our North Pole. Scott smiled at her and put her arm around her back. Great. My hopes for a perfect Christmas with Riley were being crushed right before my eyes.... until Scott shook his head, 'no'. Riley's grin disappeared as she listened to him talk for a moment. No way. He has plans. I think he has plans! I watched as he evidently informed Riley of his previous arrangements. Yes! Yes! Yes! It didn't even bother me when he pulled her to his chest for a quick squeeze. My heart was soaring. I did a quick victory dance right there in the toyshop. When I looked back, however, they had their cellphones out and were exchanging numbers. My high sank a bit. Damn. Well, at least I'll get my night. I kept my chin up for the rest of the day. I had never really cared for Christmas all that much, but I was ecstatic to have a night with Riley, even if she would be running off to Scott in the end. At least he was a nice enough guy. I sighed and plopped back down in the computer chair.

A week and a half later, we were finishing our very last day of work together. The mall, which had been a zoo only a few hours earlier, was now almost completely dead. Scott had asked us to work until seven o'clock that night, but business was clearly not about to pick up again. We had finished packing up the entire North Pole by six. We changed into normal clothes and handed our outfits (minus the striped stockings) over to Scott. He wrote us our final checks that very hour, invited us back next year, and wished us happy holidays. We were practically skipping to our cars by 6:30. It was freezing out, even under my long coat. I could see Riley's breath coming out in puffs, but there was no snow on the ground yet. Big puffy clouds hung in the sky, hinting at the promise of a white Christmas. Riley and I couldn't decide if we were happier to be done with work or just for the fact that it was Christmas Eve. Well, I was more excited about the night ahead with Riley... but if Christmas is my excuse to spend a night alone with her in my apartment, here's to Christmas! We were giddy as we jumped into our respective cars.

Riley followed me to my apartment, and once inside I turned on my fake fireplace and began putting together the plastic tree I had bought the day before at the mall. Riley surprised me when she produced two bottles of champagne from her bag. 

"It was two for one at WalMart when I was getting the decorations," she explained, "and I decided champagne would be a good Christmas present. One for me, one for you!"

"It's the perfect Christmas present!" I grinned, adoring her for her thoughtfulness. I had bought her a silver necklace with a heart-shaped locket a few weeks ago, but decided against giving it to her now. It might be a good excuse to get to see her again after she leaves.

She opened the sliding glass door that lead to the decent sized balcony and I heard her pop it open over the edge. When she returned, she exclaimed, "I didn't know you had a hot tub!"

"Oh," I laughed, as I took the bottle from her and poured each of us a glass, "Yeah, Phyllis, my landlady, said the last people didn't want it anymore. Apparently they thought it was broken or something and didn't want to pay to haul it out. They convinced her it would be a good selling point, and to just forget to mention that it didn't exactly work. I figured out it was just a problem with one of the pumps and managed to fix it with an online guide."

"Wow, that's so cool! A free hot tub!" She pushed our her bottom lip into a cartoon-ish pout,"I wish you had told me to bring my suit! It would be a perfect way to celebrate our last night of work!"

I glanced at her sideways, half imagining her in a bathing suit, as I began opening her boxes of bulbs. She followed suit and started winding gold and sheer ribbon around the tree, followed by a simple string of white lights. Between sips of champagne we hung bulbs and tied on bows. After a decent half hour's worth of work, we were beginning to feel a solid buzz and had completed our tree. She stretched up to top it with a gold and silver star. As she did I contemplated what I knew her ass looked like under her jeans. Butterflies built up in my stomach as I came up with a plot to see that ass again.

"You know, I do have an extra suit if you really want to get in the hot tub tonight. We could finish off this bottle of champagne in there. No reason to let it go to waste." A brief look of concern spread over her face, so I quickly added, "We can watch those movies I rented, too. By then if you're not up for driving, you can crash on the couch, if you want."

A smile gradually touched her lips and she happily agreed. I opened the sliding glass door and turned the hot tub on. It groaned to life and set to work heating the probably frigid water. I stepped back inside, closing the door behind me and walked down the hall to my room to fish out a skimpy navy string bikini for her. I knew I could have given her a less revealing bandeau top and boy shorts, but my mischievous side took over my normally conservative behavior for once. It was probably the champagne's work. I was a lightweight. I changed into my newer purple and gold bikini right there in my room and brought out the navy bikini to her.

"Sorry. This is the only other one I have," I lied. "The top might be a little small on you." I glanced quickly at the cleavage that was slightly visible at the bottom of her V-neck.

"I'm sure it'll be fine! Thanks Chlo." She took it from me and disappeared to the bathroom connecting to the living room. I sat on the couch and fidgeted nervously. I shouldn't have lied to her. I'm terrible. Then I contemplated how red my face would be for the rest of the night, and how difficult I knew it would be to keep from openly gawking at her.

When I heard the bathroom door swing open I glanced up and all my hesitation was instantly absolved. I nearly came at the sight. My bikini top looked like little more than two pasties glued over Riley's nipples. I know the girl has boobs, but you really don't get the full effect until they're uncovered. My cheeks flushed as my mind poured over the implications of that thought.

She didn't look up as she attempted to stretch the tiny triangles over her breasts, "Yeah, the top doesn't really fit me very well. But it's just us girls tonight, right?" She giggled as she used her hands to bounce her boobs up and down to indicate that they counted as two of the "girls."

"Yeah. Just us girls." I managed an awkward chuckle. My mind was flashing like a fast-forward game of Pong between images of the night with Amber and the gorgeous girl that was half naked in front of me, trying to render the visuals into a clear picture of what Riley would be like. Riley staring up at me from under thick lashes, purring on my slick cunt. Riley's juices dripping down my wrist. Riley grinding on my clit until I was came so hard I screamed. The memory of Amber's musky scent made my mouth water. I could literally feel heat building between my legs as the muscles deep inside me clenched in longing. It was not Amber that I wanted, however; it was to fill my nose with Riley's smell, my mouth with her wetness, her aching opening with my eager fingers. I shook those thoughts out of my head and took a deep breath to steady myself. Riley was straight. She was, until this evening, my co-worker. And she was arguably my best friend in town by now! I couldn't even admit to my family that I was a lesbian, there was no chance in hell I could make a move on Riley. Beautiful Riley. The same Riley whose tits were packed tight into my bikini top, the Riley that was re-arranging them right in front of me. Oh God.

Satisfied, she finally looked up and smiled that cute too-big grin. She let her fingers trail along my arm as she passed me on her way to the balcony. Goosebumps rose on my arm. Wetness was already soaking my bikini bottoms. I blushed lightly at the moisture coming from my pussy, but I still couldn't help but stare at her supple hindquarters and long, tan legs as I got up and floated after her, grabbing our freshly filled champagne glasses on the way out. 

I stepped over the threshold into freezing December air, and set the glasses on a small table next to the hot tub. A light snow was just beginning to stick on the ground. As goose bumps rose all over my body, I quickly removed the bulky cover and, in the absence of steps, attempted to clamber over the side of the tub. The damn thing was so tall that I slipped and splashed into the water. Graceful as usual. 

Riley chuckled and swung herself easily over the edge. She let out a little moan as she sunk slowly into the hot water, "Mmmm, this feels nice." She arched back to wet her long curls in the now pleasantly bubbling water.

"I never really use it," I commented as I stole a glance at her wet tits, straining against the scraps of fabric covering them. My aching pussy clenched at the sight.

"Why not?" she asked as she straightened, turning her head to the side with that serious look on her face.

I smiled, remembering how the habit was one of the first things I noticed and adored about Riley. It seemed like so long ago that I had first exchanged corny Christmas jokes with her before we got hired. "Oh, I guess it just seems weird to do it by myself. In fact, I rarely ever come out onto the balcony." I glanced around, for the first time noticing the view of the city between two apartment buildings to my left. "Wow, I never noticed that," I mused.

"Noticed what?" 

I pointed. "The view."

Evidently her angle wasn't as pleasing as mine,because she crossed over to my side of the tub. I scooted into the corner to afford her some room, trying to look anywhere besides at her wet breasts. She leaned out over the side of the tub, her round ass peaking out of the bubbly surface, steam racing into the night. My mouth opened a bit at the sight. A light blush touched my cheeks as I realized I must look like a cartoon, my tongue hanging out of my mouth and with eyes the size of two moons. When I was able to force myself to look back at her face, it wasn't downtown she was straining to see, it was the stars. I remembered she had once told me over lunch how much she loved looking at the stars. When she was seven, she learned all the constellations and their varying locations in the night's sky by heart. I followed her gaze but could only see a few twinkles between the outlines of puffy clouds, heavy with snow. The night was quiet. It was that same holiday hush that seemed to permeate most December nights. For a moment, we did not interrupt it as we considered the twinkling stars and snow-laden clouds, 

"I wish I could take you back to Rhode Island this summer," she said as she slipped back into the water, facing me. She unconsciously hooked one of her legs around mine. Both pairs of legs were freshly shaved and rubbed pleasantly on one another. "My hometown is a ten minute drive from the most beautiful valley near the coast. You'll never find a better place to go star-gazing in the middle of summer." I couldn't tell if it was butterflies or just the bubbles making my stomach feel so good at the thought. 

We maintained our buzz with sips of champagne and talked about nearly everything, but especially our hometowns and the friends and family we left behind. She interrupted me about fifteen minutes into our talk to request another one of my patented neck massages.

"Sorry, I promise I will pay them all back someday!" She laughed as she positioned herself in front of me on the hot tub seat.

"Don't be silly, it's my pleasure." I considered just how true the statement was as I started to attack the knots in her shoulders and neck. "You really oughta see a doctor about it, though. You could have pulled something in your back."

"Mmmm. Oh, Chloe that feels amazing!" The heat in my body didn't know whether to go to my cheeks or my aching pussy at the sound of Riley's moans. "Who needs a doctor when I have you?" She leaned back to give me an upside down sample of her huge grin, and, inadvertently, a nice view of her cleavage, when she suddenly jumped and grabbed her neck.

"Oh sorry! Did I hurt you?"

"No," she said pulling at her neck, "it's this top! It's digging into my skin. I think it's time we face it, Chlo, it's waaay too small for me." I realized with a small gasp that she was not pulling at her neck, but untying the knot to her top. The mild tingling sensation in my nether parts amplified a thousand-fold as she whisked the top off and flung it onto the cement. It landed with a wet smack. As she settled back down she added, "Oh, you don't mind, do you?" She leaned back again to peer up at me upside down. Her pink nipples stood erect over the bubbling water. I tried, to no avail of course, to look away.

"Uh, no! It's just us girls here, right? Heh heh." Her smile widened and she relaxed in front of me. I tried to focus on rubbing her neck, but all I could imagine was running my tongue over her pink nipples. I couldn't help sneaking a peek over her shoulder every now and again to get another look, but they were always safely tucked under the bubbly water.

She had just finished describing how close she and her mom were when she pulled away from my rubbing to face me and asked, "Are you and your mom close, too?"

I frowned, "Not really.... I don't think I was really kind of girl she imagined when she planned her family." Feelings of innate inadequacy flooded over me. My shoulders slumped imperceptibly. I glanced toward the city lights to conceal the uncomfortable feelings.




The Locket



Riley flashed her too-big grin, her big green eyes twinkling. "Were you a tomboy?" She reclaimed her spot on the seat next to me. Her tits bobbed in the water.

I couldn't help but smile at how cute and sexy she was, all wrapped up into one perfect Riley. "I guess you could say that."

"Me, too! I used to insist on wearing my brother's hand-me-downs. I always say that my body rebelled against womanhood because I didn't fill out until the tenth grade. As you can see, I've covered a lot of ground since." She teasingly shook her breasts at me.

I chuckled and downed the remainder of my glass of champagne. "I wish I could say the same." Even though her shaking, complete with a frontal view of her now free breasts, would very likely have prompted a mild orgasm from my long ignored pussy, my eyes were unfocused. Riley must have responded, but my mind was far away. I was thinking back on the years of disappointed looks that were all my mom could give me. She had always wanted me to be what she had been. A cheerleader; instead I was captain of the soccer team. A dancer; instead I was into making music, usually on my used acoustic guitar. A straight A student; instead I was only average. A social butterfly; instead I was painfully shy and blushed a lot. Above all, a knockout with the guys. She was always trying to give me advice on how to attract a boy. Instead I never brought home a boyfriend. Instead I shut myself away in the closet for life, only able to make short-lived and extremely awkward friendships with girls I had feelings for, and nothing more. My eyes were suddenly stinging and my chest felt like it was about to cave in. After all these years of pretending I didn't notice, pretending it didn't bother me, the weight of it all suddenly bore down on me. Hard. I felt like I couldn't breathe. Riley pressed up against me and I melted into her embrace. The sound of my sobs sounded far away as they broke the silence of the night.

"Chloe? What's wrong? Shh, baby, it's ok," she murmured into my ear. "Chloe, what's the matter? Did I say something?" I thought I felt her lips brush against my forehead.

"No, no, you didn't do anything. Don't think that." I buried my face into the damp skin on her shoulder, wishing I didn't have to look her in the eye, uncomfortable and embarrassed that I had broken down in front of her.

"What is it, Chlo? You can tell me."

"I... I..." The words wouldn't come

"Chloe... you can tell me anything." 

I peered up into her round eyes, she still had her taut arms wrapped around me. If two eyes could hold all the compassion in the world, they'd be hers. She was such a good friend. I couldn't tell her the truth. I can't tell her what I am. I opened my mouth with the intent of making an excuse, but all that came out was, "I'm a lesbian." My eyes widened and my stomach dropped as the unintended words left my lips. I awkwardly buried my face back into her neck so I didn't have to see her reaction. She held me there in silence for what felt like hours when I finally added, "I've never told anyone."

She gently pushed me back enough to study my face with her sparkling green eyes.

"I wasn't trying to lure you out here or anything," I quickly thought of how stupid that sounded, and how creepy I must seem. I tried to look anywhere but her face, not wanting to see the disapproval that was almost certainly there. Then I thought about her naked, wet tits pressed against me and blushed.

A look of sharp disappointment suddenly took over her face. She let go of me in order to cover herself and said, "Am I not your type?"

My jaw dropped. Not my type? My head spun.

"I can go if you want. I shouldn't have assumed, but I thought... in the dressing room..." She moved to the other side of tub and started to climb out. I stood as well, the alcohol going immediately to my head.

"What are you talking about? Riley, you're perfect! You're gorgeous!" I desperately tried to scan my mental list of all the most wonderful things about Riley. There were too many to blurt out coherently. She turned to look at me, with her head tilted to the side, confusion all over her face. "You're the most adorable, interesting, lovely and hilarious woman I've ever met!" She looked down as if somehow she didn't believe me. 

It was too much for me. She managed to look cute even when she was sad. I took her hand and gently pulled her back to me. I lifted her chin with my finger then ran that same finger across her cheekbone. Her lips were curved into an irresistible pout. Her dark hair was curling in the steam. Her long lashes fluttered from my face, to the bubbles and back again. Her breasts stood dripping and naked in the December air. 

My attraction finally consumed me and I closed the remaining distance between us and kissed her pouty, perfect lips. A thousand tiny lightning bolts ran from my lips to every nerve ending in my body. I sighed and leaned into her lips, cupping her heart shaped face with my hands. I knew at that moment that if I had my way, I'd want nothing more than to remain attached to those lips, her lips, for the rest of my life. As suddenly as the kiss began, I jerked back. What am I doing? My cheeks were more red than I thought possible. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Riley, I... "

She shocked me by putting a slender finger to my lips, and then replacing it with her mouth. I hardly remembered to kiss back in my surprise. Her warm lips moved slowly and deliberately over mine before she parted them with her tongue and gently slipped it inside my mouth. My entire body screamed for the same attention, no part as loudly as my pussy. She gently broke the kiss off and opened her eyes, "I know you're a lesbian. I've seen the way you look at girls, and for that matter guys, silly."

I fleetingly wondered if I had always been so transparent in all my paranoia over emerging from the closet. "Scott...? I thought you and him...."

"Chlo, Scott and I are just really flirty people... all of that between us was just entertaining. I was more interested in... someone else. Besides, he has a girlfriend, you know." My confusion over the night amplified. She smoothed a strand of hair off of my forehead, "He didn't want me to tell you because he kind of had a thing for you and he and his girlfriend had been fighting. He wanted to see how it would play out before he made a move. I tried to tell him you're lesbian but he didn't believe me. He thought I was just trying to scare him away. In any case, they ended up working things out and he told me he was going to ask her to move in with him tonight."

Scott liked me? How could anyone be interested in anything when Riley was in the same room? That can't be true. I shook my head. And why would Riley want to scare Scott away from me? I looked at her quizzically, "But, what about Jack? You told me a guy named Jack was your sweetheart."

"I also told you I dated Jack before Taylor." She tilted her head to suggest my confusion should have been cleared at the statement. When my brow remained raised she giggled and clarified, "Taylor is a girl. Chloe, I'm bisexual!"

Her words took a minute to hit me. Then I registered all the tiny caresses, her playful nature with me, the big grins, the almost kiss in the dressing room. Hell, the girl had taken her top off for me trying to get my attention! Hadn't she? I felt her lips on mine only a moment ago, hadn't I? I was still incredulous. Could it be? Could this perfect woman possibly be interested in me? I tried to find the answer in her eyes. 

She smiled her big grin and pulled my face to hers for another kiss. This time, I didn't flinch away. My insides felt like a pinball machine, happiness flying from one end to the other, bouncing off my organs and lighting up my heart. I was so intent on her soft lips openly rubbing against mine, I forgot about my hands resting on her hips. She, however, did not forget hers and shortly began untying the knots on my bikini. I followed her lead and undid the ties that secured her bottoms at the sides. She fished the remainder of our suits out of the tub, moved to the edge and plopped them down onto the cement. 

When she turned back her head was lowered sensually. "Sit, Chloe."

As if I could do anything but comply, I sat. Then she stood. Water cascaded down her enormous breasts, beaded down her taut stomach, and disappeared back into the tub. The water barely came up to her hip bones. My mouth was agape as she moved slowly toward me. She seemed to know what part of her I had been staring at all night because she proceeded to press her erect pink nipple into my open mouth. I eagerly took it. I grabbed her other soft breast and teased her nipple between my thumb and finger. A gasp followed by a low, sexy moan escaped her throat as I pressed her tits together to feel them both in my mouth simultaneously. Heat radiated from my swollen pussy out to the rest of my body. I grabbed her hips and forcefully propped her on the edge of the tub, too eager from a month of denial to bother with going slow and being gentle. The sight of Riley naked with her legs parted and her shaved slit angling toward my mouth dissolved any hesitation I might have had. In hesitation's place was the desperately hungry animal I had shut away not only since I met Riley, but for nearly my entire life. I buried my face between her legs and devoured her. Moans of encouragement found my ears. I pressed two fingers into her now considerably wet hole and began wildly jacking them in and out. Her breathing picked up, moans turned into screams. It was not long before her first orgasm pulled at my fingers, as if begging for the promise of more to come. I was enjoying myself so thoroughly that it took me a second to realize that she had gotten goose bumps.

"Let's go inside."

She insisted we shower off the water from the tub so our skin wouldn't be itchy later. I happily complied. Showering with someone for the first time was a thrill. Showering with Riley for my first time was a dream come true. 

Afterwards, she lovingly patted every inch of my body down with a big fluffy towel. It was a wonderful tease having her hands all over my body. I tried to make her toweling off an equally good time, but halfway through she interrupted me. 

"Chloe, I just figured out how I can pay you back for all of those neck rubs!" Her too-big grin took over her face. I imagined all the positions she could be thinking of when she grabbed the bottle of sesame seed massage oil off of my bathroom counter. "Full. Body. Massage."

I chuckled as she pulled me toward my queen sized bed. She pulled back my fluffy down comforter and I lay down on my stomach on top of my purple sheets. She warmed the oil in her hands before she went to work. She rubbed small, delicious circles from the base of my skull to the bottoms of my feet. Every touch sent sparkles to my tummy and my heart never stopped doing flip flops. By the end, my entire body was Jello in her hands. "Mmmmphmmm," I moaned in satisfaction after she sat on the bed beside me. I smiled happily at her and prepared to pull her close to me to cuddle.

"Hold on there cowgirl, I'm not finished yet. Flip over."

My smile widened and heat rushed to my pussy. I was thankful it wasn't my face for once. She started rubbing my feet and up my legs, focusing on my thighs, but always skimming lightly over my shaved pussy. It was agony. It was bliss. She made her way to my hands, all the way up my arms. Squeezing and pulling, her strong oiled hands rubbed all the stress out of me. She rubbed oil into my tight abs and over my hips; it tickled when she skimmed over my hipbones. Finally, happily, she took each of my boobs in her hands. Gently she rubbed them in circular motions while simultaneously working from the base to the tip of my nipple. She then tugged teasingly at both of my nipples. I gasped. My nipples were so sensitive that, if I was diligent enough, I could make myself come just from stimulating them. She seemed to pick up on this and knelt to take my left nipple in her rose colored lips. Her tight ass was high in the air behind her. A shudder ran down my spine. I couldn't decide if it was more appealing to watch Riley sucking gently on my nipples, or if it was the gentle but steady sucking itself that made desire blossom in my pussy. She took her time, marveling at my tits, sucking, kissing and nibbling on each in turn, as if she were at a party sampling the hors d'oeuvres. She ran trails of wet kisses from my nipples to my neck and ears and back again. She rubbed her big tits against mine, the visual of the four of them oiled down and rubbing together had definitely been a fantasy. My pussy clutched, longing to be filled. 

Before she traced a path of kisses down my stomach, she crawled on top of me and laid her face next to mine, her mouth on my ear, and murmured, "You have the most gorgeous body, baby." Her kisses found their way down to tickle my hipbones and light fires on my inner thighs. She pushed my legs apart and lay on her stomach between them. My heart was racing. My pussy lips engorged with longing, inviting her in. The accumulation of the wetness building over the course of the night began oozing out of my slit, like a slowly erupting volcano. The wetness attracted her curious tongue. It fluttered between my opening and my exposed clit, never sating my mounting craving. She massaged my inner thighs and worked her way to my labia, admiring my leaking cunt. She teased my hole with the tip of her index finger. My pussy clutched at her feinting finger. I had been horny almost the entire night; I didn't know if I could take any further teasing. I moaned, unconsciously lowering my hips, trying to get her fingers inside me. She giggled at my eagerness and inserted her first finger into my hot cunt. I gasped, and my pussy clamped down on her finger. She easily found my G-spot and began rubbing it while stroking my pearl with her warm tongue. She reached her pinky down and gently brushed it across my brown pucker. I was panting. 

"You taste so good," she purred, tickling my clit with the vibrations, and removed her index finger to reach up so I could lick it clean. I had never tasted my own juice before, nor had the pleasure of Riley's finger in my mouth. Both were pleasant. I moaned, arching my hips toward her mouth

She returned to my opening and rewarded me by burying her first finger back in me. I moaned, "More, please, more."

She gently pressed her second finger in my tight pussy, "Does that feel okay, baby?"

The feeling of being full was almost too much to handle. I moaned in response. She giggled. When her mouth returned to my pussy and she began humming happily against it my back arched in ecstasy. My nipples were suddenly rock hard. The buzzing shot tingly goodness from my clit up to my nipples. She let me grind away on her face and matched my thrusts with her caresses within me, and her anal teasing transformed into a mind-blowing outer massage. I wrapped my legs around her body, grabbed at pillows, sheets, anything. She had only been at it for a few minutes when I lost it. My orgasm wracked my entire body, forcing me to cry out her name. I could feel thick wetness flooding my channel, the push of hot cum caused my juice to flow out down my cheeks and pool around my asshole. My cunt rapidly grasped at Riley's fingers. My heart was thudding hard in my chest. Small sounds escaped my throat as I came down from the high. Riley gently removed her fingers and licked me clean, mmmm-ing randomly throughout the process.

Her big tits rubbed against my spent pussy as she pushed herself back toward my face. She gave me a wet kiss when she reached my lips and. I licked my juice off of her chin. She collapsed next to me, but made the mistake of doing so with her ass slightly raised to compensate for my thigh under her. I took advantage of it and slid from beneath her and repositioned her hips into a modified doggy style. Her pink pussy looked even better, glistening in the light of my room. I briefly wondered if I would be any good, considering I had only had that one night with Amber. I had watched enough porn over the years to make up for my complete lack of sexual life, however, and decided I would just try to recreate what I had watched. With one hand I held her hips, with the other I inserted two fingers into her pouty cunt and gently rocked them back and forth. She moaned into the pillows. I reached my thumb down to massage her clit and she rewarded me by squeezing the fingers inside of her. When she was nice and wet I knelt to trail kisses over both of her wonderfully curvy ass cheeks. I gave her a loving smack and got up to fetch some toys. She looked amazing with her tight ass up in the air, begging for a dildo. I returned with just that: a thick green dildo. It had been a favorite of mine. I knelt to get another taste of her sweet juice before I leaned over her ass to enjoy a handful of tit. 

"You're such a bad girl Riley. I think Santa's going to put coal in your stocking tonight," I called up to her in a teasing voice.

"Well, on the bright side, I was hoping for SOMETHING in my 'stocking'," she said as she rubbed her wet slit against me.

"Well if you're a good girl for the rest of the night maybe you will get what you want," I teased, "and part of being a good girl is doing what you're told. I want to hear you scream my name, Riley." 

She giggled as a shudder ran down her spine. I leaned back to begin, and for a moment the view was literally unbelievable. Riley was actually in my bed, ass offered up to me, waiting to be fucked. I was almost giddy with excitement. I lightly traced the curve of her labia with my fingertip. She moaned into my pillows and spread her legs wider, enticingly wagging her hips side to side. I enjoyed several long licks her from her clit to her taint before grabbing the dildo to fuck her slick cunt. She was more than wet enough to take the entirety of it. I held her hip with my free hand and very deliberately fucked her with the dildo, prompting a grunt at the high point of each thrust. Her labia grew fat with longing. The slow pace was too much for her. Small cries of satisfaction were muffled by the pillow her face was planted in. She reached down to massage her clit herself. In order to drag out her satisfaction, I didn't increase the pace. Soon she was eagerly grinding against the dildo and made it to her climax.

"Oh Chloe!" she cried out, as promised, as her orgasm hit her and rolled like waves throughout her body. I let her ride it out before I slowly removed dildo, pulling a long rope of come cum out with it. I let it drizzle off of the dildo and onto her perfect ass. More come cum was already dripping down her inner thighs when stood to set the dildo on the nightstand. She collapsed on the bed, but rolled over to accept me into her arms. I pressed up next to her warm body and gently ran my fingertips over her incredibly soft skin. She made soft sounds of approval. She ran her fingers through my blond hair. Wonderful, tingly sensations drifted from my scalp and down my spine. I sighed and pulled her closer, tangling my legs in hers, wrapping my arms around her waist, pressing my face into her neck and taking in her wonderful, sweet smell. I couldn't get enough of her. Before long I was drifting off. She didn't let me rest long before her pleading caresses, kisses, and licks brought me back.

We proceeded to fuck each other senseless for the rest of the night.

The brightness in the room woke me the next morning. Damn, it must have snowed hard last night! Memories of what else happened last night hit me and prompted a big goofy grin. I rolled over to take Riley in my arms, but found an empty bed. I leaned up to look at the open spot next to me, and then around the room. The glare from the snow outside made me squint.




The Locket



"Riley?" I called out into the empty room. My voice was thick with exhaustion. I looked at the clock on the nightstand. It was 8:47. We'd only been asleep for a few hours.

I stretched and checked the bathroom, still naked. The only evidence of Riley was two damp towels crumpled on the floor. I hung them up before I went into the kitchen and then the living room. Nothing.

"Riley?" I repeated. Silence.

I searched everywhere for a note. There wasn't one. I found my purse on the couch and dug my cell phone out of it, but there weren't any messages. Her clothes and purse were gone. The stinging realization hit me. She wasn't interested in dating me. She was horny. My shoulders slumped as the pain of sadness lashed my heart. Did I really believe she wanted to date me? I thought about how absolutely perfect she was. Compassionate, adorable, bubbly, confident. Thick dark hair, wonderfully curvaceous body, beautiful eyes. I stared at my phone for awhile. I decided against sending her a message. She would have to start up a conversation since she was the one who left. I curled up in the old recliner in the corner of my living room and hid my face in the crook of my elbow. The worst part of all was when I realized I couldn't even be her friend after last night… I couldn't share so much with another person and act like it never happened. I had lost her for good.

I started to shiver. Goosebumps were spreading across my uncovered body. I got up and dragged myself back to bed. I curled up into the fetal position and pulled the comforter up to my neck and tried to go back to sleep. Of course, I could not. My mind was pouring over last night. What had I done wrong? I wished I had her confidence. Maybe then I could have asked her out before alienating her with my hot tub confession. No, I thought, I don't want to be like her. I wouldn't leave someone after all that we shared last night. I would have the decency to tell the person it wouldn't work. I sighed. There was no way I could convince myself that there was anything wrong with Riley. My insecurities continued to invade and direct my thoughts until I fell back asleep.

It was the smells that woke me around eleven o'clock. The air was thick with cinnamon, freshly baked muffins, garlic, onions and chicken. A girl was humming. Confused, I pushed the covers off me and pulled on a pair of shorts and a tank top and hurried to the kitchen.

Riley turned from leaning over stove. She had a bottle of cooking wine in hand. "Oh shoot, did I wake you up? I wanted to surprise you." She set the bottle down and went to the opposite counter to grab two Starbucks cups. Offering me one with her too-big grin she said, "Merry Christmas, baby."

I accepted the cup and took a sip of the warm peppermint mocha inside. "Hey," I said, exhausted and confused, "I thought you left."

She smiled and pecked me on the cheek, "I did! To get groceries. And Starbucks." She crossed the kitchen to the stove where several pans were emitting the most wonderful smells, "There wasn't anything traditional left so I thought I'd make you this killer pasta dish. I did make some muffins too, so you could have that while this stuff cooks." She gestured to a plate of muffins cooling on my table. "I wanted to surprise you, but I knocked a bowl off the counter. That's what woke you up, huh?"

I was astonished. This was real. She wanted me. Of anyone in the world she could have picked. I walked up behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist. I covered her neck with kisses. She giggled and turned around. I tightened my grip on her and lifted her off the ground. 

"I thought you left," I repeated.

She giggled as I set her down, "What, you mean like, for good?"

"Yeah." I brushed a lock of shiny brown hair out of her eyes.

"Chloe." She made a face of mock sternness and cupped my face with her hands, "Why would you think that? Have a little faith in me. I could never up and leave after everything you did to me last night." 

I giggled, happy tingles spreading out from my tummy. I was overjoyed that my insecurities were the farthest thing from her mind. I hugged her again and over her shoulder noticed the unopened champagne bottle from last night. Then I remembered her present hiding in my desk. "Wait here," I said as I backed out of the kitchen. I returned to her with a rectangular purple box tied with a ribbon. "I got you something, too," I explained.

"Aw, that's sweet, baby." She untied the ribbon, and cracked open the box. With a tiny gasp she plucked the locket from the faux suede and held up to admire it, "Oh Chloe, I love this." The simple, polished metal gleamed in the light. She gently opened it to examine the inside. "Now we'll have to get little pictures of us inside of it." She slipped it on over her head and thanked me with a soft, lingering kiss.

"Merry Christmas, Riley." I pulled her close and breathed in her irresistible scent, wondering if a better Christmas were actually possible. Maybe next year's...? : )



The Lockpick



I had a friend in college who was dating someone I could never figure out. One day he asked for my help with something a little, as he put it, delicate. He explained that his girlfriend only really got off on play rape, and had in fact been hinting that she wanted more realism than he'd been able to muster. Knowing that I'd taught myself to pick locks for fun as a teenager, he wanted me to pick the lock on her door one night.

Now, the two of us had a history of sorts, so his making the request wasn't too odd. He explained that he wanted me to come with him after opening the door, and help keep her from seeing his face or hearing his voice so she couldn't be completely sure whatever we did wasn't real, rather than a fantasy role play. I was a little leery, since I didn't know her at all, but he assured my I could trust him: she wanted it, bad.

Several days later, we went by, late. She lived in a cheap, two-story fourplex; her apartment lights were out. The lock was flimsy and easy (you probably could pick it yourself based just on watching television crime scenes), though my friend asked me to be sure that the tools clicked a lot before I got the door open, in the hopes that she might hear. As soon as the door was open he ran in, knowing his way in the dark, I assume. By the time I bumbled through the dark main room to the little bedroom in the back, my eyes had adjusted to the dimness and I saw he had a knee in her back and his hands over her mouth and eyes.

She struggled; I went over his assurances to me while he jerked his head silently at a roll of wide grey industrial tape he must have dropped on the bed. I taped her eyes shut fast, then he slapped her hard. The noise was loud, and I was a little surprised. He quickly taped around and around her head, cutting off her gasps by taping her mouth, then again and again over her eyes. He dropped her head and she squirmed on the bed, breathing loudly through her nose, moans of one sort or another filtering through. Then he taped her wrists together behind her back, and pulling her arms together hard, taped her elbows. It didn't look comfortable.

He grabbed her by the hair and arms and lifted her up (she was very petite), then pressed her face to a full-length wall mirror in a way that forced her to stand on tiptoe or hang by her hair and elbows. It really didn't look comfortable, but she did look awfully hot taped like that. Holding her, he handed me a utility knife, very sturdy and sharp, and whispered to me carefully to cut off her long-sleeved pajamas. She must have squirmed when she felt what I was doing, but all I remember is focusing on cutting flannel rather than skin.

After he had pulled the shreds of cloth off her body roughly -- and now, I had to admit to myself, I was starting to respond physically to her naked, taped body and the rather perverse situation -- he whispered what to say to me. I threatened her then, explaining that if she didn't allow and enjoy how we were going to use her, she might have another encounter with that knife.

Probably worried that I didn't believe she wanted quite this level of realism, he took my hand and shoved it roughly between her legs. She stumbled a little at the contact, since he still had her pinned on tiptoe against that mirror. I found that my hand sank into her in a way I hadn't expected; still reasonably young, I hadn't been with anyone that small who, getting excited, opened so damned wide. The demonstration was convincing -- I felt like I could have shoved my whole hand inside her, though that was probably just a surprised, self-important reaction.

Most of the rest of the fun was his; I knew him to be jealous, so I tried not to step on his metaphorical toes. He had me hold her in various positions for him as he used her, whispering to me to slap her face, ass and breasts at times. While she continued to struggle, it was obvious that the harder she could try to elude my grasp and still fail to dislodge it, the more she liked it. By the end her skin was beet red from her hairline to her stomach, and she had gone almost limp.

After he had come on and inside her several times (ah, youth), he wiped himself on her long, black hair and went to the toilet. She was lying on the bed on her side, still taped, still breathing loudly and moaning slightly through her nose. He peed and came back with a narrow plastic spray bottle of some toiletry. Having me hold her in place, he bent her over at the waist and pushed it slowly inside her from behind, base-first. When it was seated as deeply as it would go, he gave me a few choice phrases for her, then beckoned for us to go. He left her as she was on the bed, and drove me home.



The Lockpicker



I had a friend in college who was dating someone I could never figure out. One day he asked for my help with something a little, as he put it, delicate. He explained that his girlfriend only really got off on play rape, and had in fact been hinting that she wanted more realism than he'd been able to muster. Knowing that I'd taught myself to pick locks for fun as a teenager, he wanted me to pick the lock on her door one night.

Now, the two of us had a history of sorts, so his making the request wasn't too odd. He explained that he wanted me to come with him after opening the door, and help keep her from seeing his face or hearing his voice so she couldn't be completely sure whatever we did wasn't real, rather than a fantasy role play. I was a little leery, since I didn't know her at all, but he assured my I could trust him: she wanted it, bad.

Several days later, we went by, late. She lived in a cheap, two-story fourplex; her apartment lights were out. The lock was flimsy and easy (you probably could pick it yourself based just on watching television crime scenes), though my friend asked me to be sure that the tools clicked a lot before I got the door open, in the hopes that she might hear. As soon as the door was open he ran in, knowing his way in the dark, I assume. By the time I bumbled through the dark main room to the little bedroom in the back, my eyes had adjusted to the dimness and I saw he had a knee in her back and his hands over her mouth and eyes.

She struggled; I went over his assurances to me while he jerked his head silently at a roll of wide grey industrial tape he must have dropped on the bed. I taped her eyes shut fast, then he slapped her hard. The noise was loud, and I was a little surprised. He quickly taped around and around her head, cutting off her gasps by taping her mouth, then again and again over her eyes. He dropped her head and she squirmed on the bed, breathing loudly through her nose, moans of one sort or another filtering through. Then he taped her wrists together behind her back, and pulling her arms together hard, taped her elbows. It didn't look comfortable.

He grabbed her by the hair and arms and lifted her up (she was very petite), then pressed her face to a full-length wall mirror in a way that forced her to stand on tiptoe or hang by her hair and elbows. It really didn't look comfortable, but she did look awfully hot taped like that. Holding her, he handed me a utility knife, very sturdy and sharp, and whispered to me carefully to cut off her long-sleeved pajamas. She must have squirmed when she felt what I was doing, but all I remember is focusing on cutting flannel rather than skin.

After he had pulled the shreds of cloth off her body roughly -- and now, I had to admit to myself, I was starting to respond physically to her naked, taped body and the rather perverse situation -- he whispered what to say to me. I threatened her then, explaining that if she didn't allow and enjoy how we were going to use her, she might have another encounter with that knife.

Probably worried that I didn't believe she wanted quite this level of realism, he took my hand and shoved it roughly between her legs. She stumbled a little at the contact, since he still had her pinned on tiptoe against that mirror. I found that my hand sank into her in a way I hadn't expected; still reasonably young, I hadn't been with anyone that small who, getting excited, opened so damned wide. The demonstration was convincing -- I felt like I could have shoved my whole hand inside her, though that was probably just a surprised, self-important reaction.

Most of the rest of the fun was his; I knew him to be jealous, so I tried not to step on his metaphorical toes. He had me hold her in various positions for him as he used her, whispering to me to slap her face, ass and breasts at times. While she continued to struggle, it was obvious that the harder she could try to elude my grasp and still fail to dislodge it, the more she liked it. By the end her skin was beet red from her hairline to her stomach, and she had gone almost limp.

After he had come on and inside her several times (ah, youth), he wiped himself on her long, black hair and went to the toilet. She was lying on the bed on her side, still taped, still breathing loudly and moaning slightly through her nose. He peed and came back with a narrow plastic spray bottle of some toiletry. Having me hold her in place, he bent her over at the waist and pushed it slowly inside her from behind, base-first. When it was seated as deeply as it would go, he gave me a few choice phrases for her, then beckoned for us to go. He left her as she was on the bed, and drove me home. 



The Locksmith



Chapter One

Ben Jarvey was an average guy, at least in his self-evaluation. The way he saw it, on the plus side, he had his own locksmith business for many years, with many loyal clients, and was pretty much free to do what he wanted when he wanted. On the negative side he was 50. He was 6’ 1” tall and thin but still in possession of his muscles and trim body. All his kids were grown and on their own, though he was now somewhat bored in marriage and not free to pursue those later year surges in desire. He looked at himself in the mirror and thought he was attractive with short gray hair and still dark eyebrows. His mouth was soft and framed in harder cheek bones. He wasn’t a sculpture, or a movie star, but he was handsome enough to still draw plenty of attention. He knew that from all the propositions he still received.

Clients would ask him to stay for coffee after a job, invariably divorced or stay-at-home married women in similar states of boredom. Some would be so bold as to make hints about “checking the locks in the bedroom.” Others would ask out of the blue about the differences between door locks and handcuff locks. He always chuckled at that line. One bluntly warned him that he’d better not consent to put a chastity belt and lock on her if her husband called him (the call never came). There were more approaches than he could remember, but each was refused and he always went home faithfully to his wife.

But like anything in life, there is eventually an exception to the rule, that one set of circumstances that simply couldn’t be planned for, or denied when faced with its existence. And for Ben Jarvey, handsome locksmith and master of his own destiny, that fateful day was today.

Ben arose and went through the morning ritual on cue. Radio alarm at six. Three minutes of news. Rise and off to the bathroom for the full treatment from commode to shower to shave. To the kitchen for coffee and a nicely prepared bowl of cereal and toast and juice, followed by the mechanical kiss goodbye for the day. He hardly noticed his wife anymore.

But today there was one more item, that would later prove to be the straw that breaks the camel’s back in the decision to change his life. “Honey,” Wife Marian called to Ben as he opened the front door. “Remember, tonight I’ll be late – the bridge club annual dinner.” She was obviously happy to be going out and spending the evening differently for a change. “I’ll make some spaghetti for you and you can just nuke it when you get home, ok? Don’t forget now…” She waved to Ben as he stepped down off the porch and walked toward his minivan/work truck. 

He waved back over his shoulder and simply replied, “Have fun!” Ben liked nights like this because he could watch what he wanted on tv, even break out a couple of the porn tapes he hid in the basement under the 1st floor at the edge of the foundation, or even get a little crazy and play with some of the toys he liked to make and experiment with in his shop down there. A night of freedom for Ben was a night alone at home. Pretty sick, he thought, but what the hell. Didn’t hurt anyone and kept his libido alive. He would enjoy himself tonight especially for this annual affair has never brought his wife home before one in the morning in the past.

Ben drove casually to his office and entered through his highly secured door system. He liked to use all the latest stuff himself before offering it to his clients. This was only one of the many ways he had ensured a flourishing business that enabled him to turn down unwanted clients without hurting his bottom line. In short, Ben was in demand.

Upon arrival at the office, with the lights on and the door open for business, Ben brought out his list of appointments for today and began to plan his approach. He was about to start loading locks and parts and tools into his van when the front door chimed open the entry of a customer he had never seen before. She was short, maybe only 5’ 2” or 3”, not overweight but not skinny by any means, built in the chest like a typical man’s dream of twin peaks and with beautiful wavy red hair well down below her shoulders. She turned from the profile position to face the counter, and Ben, and Ben nearly stumbled. She was beautiful.

The woman’s face was Latin, large black eyes, slightly puffy cheeks with a hollow still visible, and pouty lips that Ben thought must surely be collagen assisted. They were simply too lush to be natural. God never made any that good, he thought, but then again he could see no obvious signs of cosmetic alteration. Her nose was the perfect size to announce its presence but only maximize the impact of the rest of her features. 

She was a proud woman too, self confident, Ben thought, as she held her chin high while marching up to the counter. Ben backed a bit at the force of her march, but she disarmed him with the warmest smile he could remember. Her teeth were white, unblemished in any way. Could this be the perfect woman, he mused to himself? His fantasy come true? 

Then he realized what he was thinking and pulled himself back to earth. “Can I help you?” He asked in an officious tone.

“I hope so.” Her voice was melodic to Ben, and her delivery generous, soft, without presumption or command. “My husband and I just moved into a house nearby and I want to change all the locks of course. Is this something you would do? I just saw you open your store as I was coming into town or I probably would have used the Yellow Pages later.” She hesitated a moment, looking him over in an obvious way, and added, “I’m so glad you were here!”

She was nothing but sincere, he was convinced. “Lucky for me, I’d say.” Said Ben. He didn’t even know he had said it before it was out there. “Sure, ah, that is exactly what I do, locks, I mean change locks, on houses…” He was already loosing it in the distraction of staring at this gorgeous creature.

She smiled more broadly. Anita Benning was not unaccustomed to gawkers. She knew she was attractive and often got a kick out of the attention. On occasion she would play up to it with exotic walking or stirring in her chair at a restaurant. On this occasion, the man behind the counter was equally attractive to her. She liked looking up to him behind the counter. She liked a man with a mission in mind, and hand, and this man looked like he might be that type. After all, he had his own business.

“I wonder if you could come out and change all the locks on our new house?” She tried to get the conversation back on track.

“Why, ah, sure. Sure. Ah, I assume you would like an estimate?” He was slowly getting back under control.

“Why yes, that would be perfect. An estimate.” That way, she figured quickly, she would have him in her house at least twice. Yum! So when can you come out and give me an estimate, Mr. uh…”

“Jarvey.” Ben filled in. “I mean just call me Ben.” Hmm. Ben thought, her name. He reached down into a drawer and pulled out a work order. “Can I have some particulars please?” He just looked at her then, jaw down and gawking once again. This time his head and eyes had drifted lower to lock onto her breasts. They were creating cleavage in a tight knit top with a low “V” neck line. The flesh was so close to his face he could taste it. He couldn’t remember ever wanting anything more.

“Anita, Anita Benning,” She smiled. “And these are my 36D’s.” She held her hands under each breast and actually lifted them closer to his scrutiny.

Ben lost it. He staggered back half a step and looked up at Anita’s beautiful face. Was this some kind of joke? Was he being played? Of all the come-on’s he’d seen this was the most bold of all – right in his store, in full view from the window, and she was married!

“It’s ok,” She smiled, “They are hard to disregard. My husband is just as infatuated with them today as he was when we married ten years ago. I really don’t mind if you look. I kind of like it actually.” She smiled between every word. She was so open, so honest, so absolutely divine Ben was enthralled.

“I’m sorry, I..”

“Don’t be, really! I am very flattered. I mean that. Thank you for looking. I just wish that when a man looked at me like that he could say what was going through his mind. It is so much more exciting to cut through all the silly taboos and enjoy sex for the great feelings it can bring. You can look at any part of me any time, Mr. Ben Jarvey.” She shifted to one foot as if to say, “There’s the challenge, are you man enough to meet it?” But indeed, she left that for her voyeur to discover himself.

Ben was shocked at first, and then visibly elated with her candor. He too, dealing in so many different people’s lives and seeing so many phony relationships end in divorce or worse, was totally excited with Anita’s openness. For once, a challenge he could find worth taking.

“Well then may I complete my assessment? Anita?” He asked with a bit of flourish.

“Why sure, Ben. Please do. I am anxious to hear what you think.” She was issuing a challenge as much as she was reveling in the adoration.

“Well then, step back please.” She did, two steps back, and then twirled on her toes to model her entire “package.”

Ben was smiling broadly. “First, your breasts are perhaps the prettiest I have ever seen. I must only withhold the final commitment for I have not yet seen them in the flesh.” He waited to see if she might oblige. Hey, he thought, who knows how far this goddess might go? 

“I like their fullness for sure, but their pliant movement as you walk indicates to me the absolute maximum in texture for a night of exercise in many forms.” He stopped to see if he’d gone too far.

“Hmmm…” She said. “Interesting description. Go on, please.”

“Ok, I love your hair. Though I haven’t touched it yet, it sure looks silky and I can only imagine what it feels like. I can imagine it covering a lot of … well… a lot more than your head.” He paused again for a sanity check.

“More than my head. Ok… Go on.” She was batting her eyes more and posing slightly, twisting into partial profile.

Ben was a bit uncomfortable in this role. Normally it was he who was challenging the on-comer to peak his interest in the sea of so many attempts. Now the role was reversed and he was being challenged. As uncomfortable as it was however, it was sure worth it with this vision before him. “Yes. Hmmm… May I be so bold also to say that your hips and, uh, well, butt are so perfectly proportioned that I can hardly keep my hands off.” He was ready to get slapped, for telling the truth.

“Well!” Anita faced him squarely. “You sure do know what you like, don’t you Ben Jarvey?” She smiled provocatively, her lip curling curiously on one side. “I thank you for all the compliments, Ben, and would like to employ your services to redo the locks in our house.” She pulled a small notebook from her purse, wrote a few words on it, and handed it across the counter to Ben. “Please meet me at two this afternoon.” She did not wait for an answer. She winked, turned on her toes and left the store.

Chapter Two

Ben stared after her until she was out the door and out of sight. What had just happened? His world of total familiarity and control was suddenly shattered, violated by this gorgeous intruder who simply threw aside all his experience and bravado and took command of his every thought. She didn’t even ask if it was convenient for him to join her at two o’clock, she demanded that he do so. He was going to have to adjust his schedule for the day!

Ben raced through his appointments rather than cancel anyone’s in particular. It was the right thing to do. His last appointment was only a half block from Anita’s house and he knew he wouldn’t need any tools or hardware on this first trip so he simply walked around the corner and down three houses to the correct address. Dressed in jeans and a button down plaid shirt, he looked like he belonged there.

He stepped up to the full front porch and rang the bell. He was exactly on time, and about as anxious about this visit as he could ever remember being about anything in the recent past. Anita answered the door bell quickly and let him into the 40-50 year old house.

“Welcome,” She beamed radiantly. She had changed into a housecoat, obviously just out of the shower, and was without makeup and her hair still wound in a towel on her head. “Come on in.”

“Thanks, Anita.” He liked hearing himself say that name. “I, ah, hope I am not here at a bad time…”

“Nonsense, of course not!” She looked at the clock on the side-boy in the dining room and said, “Your timing is perfect.” She finished closing the door and led him to the kitchen. As they walked, she looked back once and took him in from top to bottom, all with a very pretty smile. Ben on the other hand couldn’t keep his eyes off her delicious butt cheeks working side to side and up and down in a dance that mirrored her walk. Wow, he thought. What an absolutely perfect body this woman had. If only…..

“Here. I guess you should start here, the back door.” She stood back as if to watch him change the lock.

Ben was a little embarrassed. While some of the locks in the house might be the type where he could change just the barrel mechanism without having to change the handle, this was not one of these. Anita surely had no idea what she was asking when she asked to change the locks.

“Uh, well, you see, this entire door handle will have to be changed Mrs. Benning.” He had automatically shifted into a professional mode.

“Please, Ben. Anita. We, us, got to know each other far to well in your store to call me Mrs. Benning.” She reached out a hand and took one of his as if to demonstrate their familiarity. “Ok, so we have to change all the locks. Well, can you do that?”

He smiled and said, “Sure, It isn’t cheap you know. The one on the front door might also have to be replaced and that is a much more expensive set than this here.” He was luxuriating in her attention and trying not to show it too much. “Perhaps you can show me the rest of the locks you want replaced, and I’ll take all the necessary information to get the job done. Then maybe I can come back, say, tomorrow? And I can make the changes then. Sound ok?”

“Oh yes!” Anita, beamed again. Was that because he was going to have to come back?

Ben tried to find out. “I ah, should tell you also, that sometimes I have to switch a few locks out from one manufacturer to another to get the best results for you. I may have to come back yet again in that case. Is that all right?”

“Ohhh, Yes!” She was beaming again. “Please.. I mean of course! You should come back anytime you like, uh, to fix the locks I mean. Anita suddenly remembered something, probably her appointment or date or whatever she had showered for and said, “Uh, sorry. I am going to be late. Why don’t you just go through the entire house and check every lock or do whatever you have to do, and just figure on replacing all of them, ok? I really have to get ready to pick up my husband at the airport.”

Ben felt a little deflated to learn of the reason for her primping. He agreed, and started back down the stairs to work from the bottom up.

Anita, rushing through the door to her bedroom by now, shouted, “Please start up here Ben. That way if you need anything I am close by and can help.”

He reluctantly marched back up the stairs to the second floor.

“Don’t be shy, Ben. Just go all the way to then end of the hall and start back from there.” Her voice came from the bedroom but so did noise that indicated she was changing.

Ben walked to the end of the hall. However, he couldn’t help but peaking into the room into which Anita had disappeared. In a flash he saw her standing before a mirror, naked as a dove, and brushing her hair. The glimpse was so short he was surprised that as he moved on he could reconstruct the image in his mind. Her ass was beyond belief. Her cheeks poked out her back side as much as her breasts did her front side, as he could see in the mirror. Her face.. HER FACE! She was looking in the mirror directly at Ben, and smiling! Ben stopped short, thought about the dream for several seconds, and then slowly moved on. He could hear a giggle from her room as hie did so.

Finally regaining his senses, he meandered to the end of the hall. Each lock was a locking lock! Surely she didn’t want to replace all these! “Mrs. Ah, Anita?”

“Yes, Ben, what is it?” She didn’t appear in the hall.

“Well, I am afraid all your doors are of the locking type. Surely you don’t want to replace them all.” He waited for her to agree and tell him which to address.

“My husband said ALL of them, Ben. Just go ahead and do them all. I am sure he has his reasons.” She again did not appear.

“Well, if you say so. This may take awhile to get all the information I need. I don’t want to hold you up.” He was starting to count the doors on the second floor.

“Oh, you won’t hold me up, at least not that way. Could you come here a moment Ben?” There was genuine request in her voice.

“Uh, sure, Mrs… uh, Anita. Be right there.” Was this going to be yet another surprised, he wondered?

It sure was. As he rounded the corner to her bedroom, he saw her standing there, stuffing the last of her bosom into the tight, dark red knit dress. She didn’t seem to mind at all that she had been seen. “Ben, there you are. Could you please zip me in back?”

Ben started toward her, only after looking around as if to make sure her husband wasn’t lurking. As he started to put his hand out gingerly to approach the zipper at the top of her buttocks, Anita said, “Don’t worry. Michael wouldn’t mind. It took me a long time to find the right husband. He’s not the least bit jealous. Go ahead, pull it up while I suck in….”

Ben anchored the bottom of the zipper with his left hand and tugged upward on the zipper slide with his right. The noise was suddenly erotic as can be and the sight of the slide moving up her smooth light brown skin, over her thin bra, and up to her neck, brought his cock to full attention faster than he could ever remember. Now he was in trouble. His cock showed through his pants like a sign, and he couldn’t move from behind her or she would see.

Anita turned abruptly and rose on her toes, pulling Ben down to her, and kissed him on the cheek. “Oh, thank you. That is so much easier than doing it myself.” 

Ben was frozen, in lust. She spun around on one foot and asked, “How do I look?” Think my husband will be able to pick me out of a crowd?”

She was magnificent! With the tight knit dress, her body was totally revealed in its glorious shape. There was nothing left to the imagination but the number of pubic hairs on her pussy. He guessed that to be few or none since there was not even a hint of a panty line on her dress, and not the slightest disturbance to the smoothness of her “V”. It took everything he had to keep his hands off this delectable lady.

Anita smiled at the obvious ogling she was getting. “Why Ben. I think you are happy to see me in this dress.”

“Happy? My God, Anita, you are simply magnificent!” Ben had lost all semblance of restraint by now. She bore down on the raw, welcome truth emitting from his mind.

“Why thank you very much, Ben. Be careful what you wish for. You never know, you know.” She winked and curled her lip in that sexy fashion again and brushed by him. “I do have to leave now. I’ll lock the door on the way out and you can simply close it behind you when you leave.” She was gathering up her purse and a wrap as she left him standing with his mouth open. “Turn out the lights.” And she was gone.

Ben stood there for several minutes as he tried to bring himself back to earth. The house went silent with the sound of the closing front door. He was left alone in this wonderful woman’s bedroom, no chance of being disturbed for at least the two hours it would take to get to the airport and back, and not a clue as to what to do with the opportunity.




The Locksmith Pt. 02



Chapter Five

Anita looked down at her husband slurping up the last of her cum. Her orgasm had been so intense, she’d almost forgotten he was there, despite his being the source of at least half her excitement. The other half, Ben Jarvey, locksmith, was just ducking back into her clothes, inside her closet. She wanted desperately to reach out to him and pull him into a post orgasmic embrace, to hold him with her husband and let them both know how happy they had just made her. But now was not the right time. She would have to content herself with the post coital embrace of her husband alone.

Ben Jarvey, having slowly but deliberately re-ensconced himself in the safety of Anita’s hanging clothing, let his nerves begin to settle. His hand and cock were clean already due to his own insatiable desire to have some sexual contact with the woman, resulting in his sucking up and swallowing all his own cum. That was a first, he reflected with more than a little disbelief. This woman was pushing him to a lot of “firsts”. This was the first time he had rummaged through a client’s rooms, their clothes. It was a first for actually putting on a pair of woman’s panties, let alone that of a stranger he’d only just met. It was certainly a first time for him to watch a couple having sex, live, hidden in the closet of their bedroom. What else, he wondered, would he be doing before this entire situation was ended?

Ron Benning, husband of Anita and still horny as hell, looked up at his wife’s beautiful face with a satisfied look and smiled back at her. She seemed somewhat distracted, or distant, gazing off at the wall behind him, but he wrote that off to his own sexual prowess. It was their mutual turn now, and he knew from experience he was in for a continued exciting time. He rose to his feet and stood before his sexy wife.

Anita stirred at the sudden movement of her husband and looked up as his face rose above hers. She too rose and Ron was quick to remove her dress, pulling it up and over her head. Th bra was next and they stood naked, facing each other, with stares of intense desire and determination. They were going to fuck now, and fuck themselves to exhaustion.

Ben’s jaw was hanging yet again. The sight of Anita totally naked was as exciting to him as he’d thought. She was perfectly proportioned. Her breasts, if anything, might be a bit too large for the rest of her, but they seemed perfect to Ben. Her hair hung down over her shoulders and lay lazily on the tops of both breasts. Her hips were wide, supporting fleshy butt cheeks and an inviting triangle covered with little more than a one inch wide “V” of red pubic hair. She was a goddess to Ben. He wanted to switch places with her husband. He wanted the room to themselves. Then he abruptly remembered he was no more than a pervert in her closet and might just be in some kind of jeopardy if this stocky, lucky husband found out he was there.

Just then, they hugged and Anita looked over her husband’s shoulder and slightly to the right to look directly at Ben. She winked on top of a broad smile. Again, Ben thought, she was doing this as much for him, as for her husband, and herself. Ben was sure there was something he did not yet know, something fundamental about Anita, this couple, that he suspected he would soon find out, in due time.  “TIME!” Ben looked at his watch, remembering suddenly that he had to move quietly. It was only just after seven, plenty of time before his wife got home. Relief. Wouldn’t that be a kick, he wondered, the one night his wife gets home after midnight and she finds he isn’t home! Cannot let that happen. Yet, how will he get himself out of this problem?

By the time he collected his thoughts, Ben saw that the two nude people before him were whispering to each other. They remained embraced, but used the position to talk softly into each other’s ears. Ben thought he saw Ron bolt once or twice, but couldn’t be sure. Anita still had an intermittent smile on her face and that gave Ben some comfort that all was ok. Probably some pillow talk to get each other up for the next round of raw sex. Like they might need it, Ben chuckled.

The next few seconds flew by in a flash. As well as Ben could remember it later, Ron suddenly released his wife, streaked to the closet containing Ben, grabbed a hand and pulled Ben from the closet with amazing strength. He wasn’t hurt, but Ben had no chance of doing anything but going along for the ride. The guy was incredibly tough, and fast.

Ben next felt himself on the carpeted floor on his stomach, hands held behind his back, and a substantial weight sitting on his butt. There was some fumbling with his wrists and then the weight lifted. “OK, fella, stand up and let’s see what we’ve got here.” Ron helped him up with his upper arm on one side.

Ben was so surprised that it took sometime for him to realize he was standing before Ron, in his wife’s underwear, otherwise naked, hands secured behind his back and totally vulnerable. Suddenly he wished he’d never met this beautiful woman, had never consented to be left alone in her house, had never had a cock and balls to tempt him into a situation that might just blow up his entire comfortable life. How he suddenly wished this was all a dream.

The husband of Anita looked up and down the naked body of the closet voyeur. He wore no more than a pair of very familiar looking panties. “You’re a piece of work, Mr. Ben Jarvey.” Ron waited for the sign of recognition on Ben’s face. It came more from his eyes, widening suddenly, shaping the beginning echoes of fear. “Oh, yes. Anita has some rather strange or should I say exotic desires, but she is always loyal to me. She always comes home to me in the end.” Ron was firm in his words and tone, yet not ominous. 

“She has some intentions regarding you, it seems.” Ron continued, “And it is up to me to ensure that they are fulfilled.” He continued, saying, “So, let’s get you ready for my woman’s pleasure.” He was smiling at Ron. It seemed he liked his role of servant to his mistress, was very comfortable in his space.

“First, take a good last look at my woman here, for you are about to see her no more.” Ron turned Ben toward the naked Anita and Ben could not help but take her in one more time. He was bound, standing in her bedroom with his hands secured behind his back, held by her husband, wearing her dirty panties, and yet she was so beautiful, so intoxicating, he was entranced. It just didn’t seem to matter what was going to happen next.

Ron slipped a cloth, silky in feel, over Ben’s head to cover his eyes. His last sight was that of Anita with a sly grin on her pretty face. He next felt something coupled around his ankles, and a sudden jerk of something that pulled his ankles together, that or his ankles would be in some pain. Maneuvering on one foot to bring the other to the first, he was distracted momentarily and a ball gag was inserted into his mouth and strapped tightly behind his head. At this point he began to worry visibly. His head jerked up as if to try and peek out the bottom of the blindfold. His head jerked in different angles trying to see whatever he could. His ears were suddenly sensitized in attempt to replace the loss of his sight. He was pushed and pulled out of the room and down the hall. With a sudden chill of fear, he realized he was being moved to the secret room he’d discovered earlier – their own private dungeon.

Chapter Six

Little was said as the trio descended the flights of stairs from the second floor bedroom to the basement. Ben listened for and was able to hear one of the two parties, probably Ron, walk behind the stairs and slap the secret door opener in the rafters. He heard the door swing an inch or two, followed by a couple more footsteps and then the door swinging wider. Ben was ushered inside firmly, but not with pain or even the hint of malice. “Curious,” he thought, “I am not afraid. It’s not as if they are going to hurt me.” He kept running the possibilities through his mind. Surely they must realize that he kept a schedule at his office and that this house would be the first place the authorities would come to if he didn’t show up at home tonight and was reported missing by his wife. There had been no outward signs of violence of past activity in the dungeon when he was in there earlier today, though he admitted to himself that he neither knew what to look for, or whether he would recognize such a sign if it existed.

Far more comforting was that smile he could still see on Anita’s face. She couldn’t possibly be cruel. There was no way that gorgeous red headed vixen could be more dangerous than a horny sex partner. And Ron obviously didn’t want for money, didn’t seem deranged, violent, even capable being upset. He had just been watched in passionate sex with his wife by a stranger in her closet wearing her dirty panties! And he hadn’t emitted so much as a hurtful expression, let alone gone into a rage.

Ben’s mind continued racing through thoughts in the interest of quelling his fears. This could, if all went the way he hoped, be a most interesting evening. He had never considered himself “bi,” but had certainly had the fantasies most men have at one time or another about two women and a man, or being one of two men taking a woman. What better way to try these possibilities than to have them “forced” on himself by others? He wouldn’t be the pervert initiating such behavior, but the victim, able to make judgements during and after about whether to face his true feelings with more information and experience. This could be a fantasy coming true, and for that opportunity he was willing to go along, willing to let these people have their way with him without resisting, well not much anyway.

The door shut with a soft click. Ben heard the sound of the blowers rise faintly to indicate the room was now on its own air filtration and circulation. He knew already that any sound less than outright screaming would not escape this room, and even then would not escape the basement. He chuckled to himself about his decision to not resist, he really had no decision to make. Resistance would have been, and now would be futile anyway.

“So, darling,” Ron was first to speak, “What do we do with this one? Hmm? Just what did you have in mind for this locksmith of yours?”

“Ohhh,, I have some special things in mind honey, some very special things. I believe that Ben here is not used to this sort of thing.” Anita’s voice had taken on an entirely different tone. She was using a lower voice, and peppering it with a kind of guttural emphasis that made her sound more dominating, more in control, more demanding. “But first, I think we better get a full inspection out of the way. Get the suspension ropes over here.” 

Ben heard Ron comply and suddenly felt wrist cuffs being applied to his hands, still secured behind his back. The fact that they were lined with a soft material like felt relieved him greatly. Surely someone interested in doing him harm would not be so considerate! Moments later his original binding was released but before he could move his hands at all, they were both jerked out and up toward the ceiling, and then back together above his head. He felt he was now able to grip his fingers over a chinning bar to relieve some of the pressure of being held there by the suspension cuffs. Standing did suddenly get more difficult though, as the chinning bar and the cuffs were suddenly raised another four inches. He was no longer that comfortable.

“That’s better,” He heard Anita say, “Now let’s have a look. Ron, what do you think of the locksmith wearing my panties? Hmm? I also saw him sniffing the crotch.”

Ben was feeling a bit edgy with the full disclosure of more than his body. Anita was now treading on personal secrets, personal fantasies, bringing them to light in front of someone he’d never known before, the husband of the woman he was trying to seduce and fuck. The emotions were combining in his mind to begin to cloud his judgement. He blurted a couple of groans through his gag before it reminded him he had no way to communicate.

“I think he’s trying to tell you something, Dear.” Ron’s voice came from the opposite side of Ron. “I think he’s a pervert, Baby, wearing your dirty panties. Look at his cock in them. He’s hard as nails even while we watch him.” There was no mistaking Ben’s erection. It was the one comforting thing he was feeling right now, though it was becoming borderline achy as it intensified. Ron added, “I think this behavior calls for action, Baby. I think you ought to do whatever you want with this locksmith of yours. Perhaps he needs to be broken like one of his locks, huh? Or maybe, maybe he needs a key somewhere?”

Ben suddenly clenched his butt cheeks. The only place a “Key” could go was right up his poop chute. He had played with a few toys that way by himself in the past, but had never shared his ass with anyone else before, and certainly not a man. About the closest he’d ever come was some time ago when he had inserted a finger into his wife’s ass and she had responded similarly. Since then, the practice had become a bit more common, but had never extended beyond that.

Ben heard the shuffling of feet. The noises came from all around him and he assumed that they were both moving around. He heard a rolling noise then and could only assume one of the big devices he’d seen earlier was being moved around in the room. He was expecting to be whipped, and perhaps they were making room for that. Why else would they have pointed out his unauthorized voyeurism and kinky panty activity?

Hands were moving over his ass, gliding lightly and not touching his skin, but sliding over the panty clad areas. “These are MY panties, Mr. Locksmith,” Anita said, revealing gratefully for Ben that the hands were hers. “Just what are you doing with them on you? Hmmm? You like to wear woman’s panties then? You like the feel of silk on your ass?” Her hands moved around to the front of Ben. “You like the feel of a woman’s silk on your cock and balls, do you?” She squeezed his cock firmly.

Ben jerked more from surprise than any pain. It felt good what she was doing on his cock. Of course the silk felt good on him! It felt even better knowing it was Anita’s hand gripping his cock through her panties and massaging his muscle up and down slightly. “You do like this don’t you, Mr. Locksmith?” The massage intensified. Ben didn’t know how long he could hold back from cumming and filling her panties with his juice.

“I see you do like it, perhaps too much my prisoner,” Anita’s voice was trailing off, as if she were walking away! But how could that be! Her hands were still on his balls and cock! Then, clearly from across the room he heard her say, “Yes, you like what my husband is doing to you, and you are going to love what my husband and I do to you before you leave this chamber.” She laughed out loud and in a deviously guttural way. It was Ron’s hands on his cock and balls, not Anita’s, and Ben suddenly realized that it didn’t really matter! The sensations were still intense and he was about to let go a load that would prove it.

More noises and then Ben felt something flexible, like a piece of leather or plastic, pushing up against the back of his thighs. “That’s enough now Baby, we don’t want to loose him prematurely now do we?” Anita’s voice came from behind him. Ron removed his hands from Ben’s body. Straps were suddenly wrapping around his waist and chest. More were applied to his thighs and ankles. Things were moving far too quickly for him to digest all the information and make out what they were doing. He squirmed involuntarily a few times but they kept up whatever they were doing without a pause.

“Ok, Hon, I think you have him now.” Ron announced to his wife. Ben could feel a lot of leather tied tightly around various parts of his body and suddenly realized he was probably in some kind of sling. He had no idea what that meant, or what was next, but he was sure he was about to find out.

“Yes, I think I do.” Anita agreed, “So let’s hang him now.”

Ben reeled at the words. He reacted completely by instinct until he reminded himself there was nothing strapped around his neck. “Hang me?” He wondered, “No way!” And then his body began to swing backward at the feet, like a pendulum. 

He remained fully erect and straight in body as well as in cock, as his body was gradually pivoted back and up. At about 45 degrees to the floor, his chinning bar and cuffs were allowed to drop to enable his body to become horizontal, some unknown distance off the floor.. Strangely, he thought, there was no discomfort or undue strain on any part of his body in this new position. They had applied supports of leather to all the right places and had effectively laid him down, suspended in air.

“I’ll take care of the legs now Baby,” Anita said, and Ben felt his ankles begin to separate. He tested the strength of the forces dividing his stride and found he had zero impact on their movement. The ties must be on pulleys to enhance the leverage he guessed, thinking back to visions of earlier that afternoon. While this was continuing to a create a dangerously wide chasm between his legs, he felt new strains, probably applied by Ron, which pulled his chest and waist up, and then his knees down and then forward toward his upper torso. He was being carefully and deliberately maneuvered into a position that he knew they were not only familiar with, but had specific intentions for its use. The fear level rose again, but only a point or two compared to the “Hang him,” comment earlier.

By the time the adjustments were completed, he was in a position that actually felt comfortable. His upper torso was horizontal, his knees bent double beneath him, and his ankles back at his ass and pulled apart some distance. His arms were outstretched to the sides and forward, and he was still wearing Anita’s panties. What the hell could be next?

He heard some more rolling noises. He sensed, but could not be certain, that the device, whatever it was, was to his right. He heard someone moving on or around it, and then there was silence. The next sensation was that of the panties being snipped and removed from his body. The action was swift and he felt is cock fall down toward the floor, probably at about a 45 degree angle. His balls were also dangling and the whole position was suddenly quite stirring. He felt an involuntary flex of his waist, as if to stick his cock forward and down to see if there was anything there.

“He’s getting quite cocky again, Dear.” Anita’s voice said from his side. “Perhaps you should start before me, so we can put him back in his place.”

There was a silence again, this time Ben sensing it might be some point of indecision on the part of Ron. Finally, he heard Ron respond, “Yes, yes Anita. Whatever you want. You know that, don’t you.”

Ben was somewhat puzzled. Was Ron being asked to do something he didn’t’ want to do? He heard some more movement, the device beside him moving around in front of him, a drawer being opened and closed, more movement behind him and then in front of him, and then silence again. He guessed that Anita was beyond his head in front of him and that Ron was somewhere else, perhaps behind him – BEHIND HIM? 

At just that moment, Ben felt what could only be a finger tracing itself down his ass crack, loaded with some kind of jelled substance. It was cold at first, but that annoyance was forgotten when he felt the finger enter his ass! How did Anita get behind him, he questioned his recollection of events? Wasn’t she in front of him?

The finger slipped in and out of his ass a couple times and Ben could not help but let some of the rare pleasure gratify his body. She was very adept, pushing his muscle to the limits, but not hurting anymore than what felt pleasurable at the same time. The finger lingered now, inside his ass and buried perhaps to the second knuckle or even full length, and suddenly began to rotate around inside him. The sensations were delicious and he felt his cock start dancing an arc of 30 degrees or more beneath him. She was fucking him in the ass and he was loving every second of it.




The Locksmith Pt. 02



It was the direction from which the next words came, rather than what they said that staggered Ben next.

“Keep that up baby, while I get ready.” Anita said, walking beside him toward his head. 

The finger, now feeling like two more than one, was still in his ass, and still rotating inside him! It was Ron buggering his ass, not Anita! It was Ron shoving his fingers up Ben’s ass, lubing it inside and out with what could only be K-Y jelly. It was RON! A man was fucking his ass with his fingers and Ben liked it!

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the contact made on his thighs from below. Somehow, probably using the last device he’d heard rolling around the floor, Anita, or at least he thought it was Anita, had maneuvered herself under him and was rising up against him. As their bodies made more and more contact, he realized that she must be in a position similar to his own, knees-to-chest, but upside down and facing him. He didn’t know she had a hydraulic lift on the table, but that was how she was rising up beneath him, now making the first contact between her pussy lips and his cock. 

Ben jerked down and Anita jerked up simultaneously as the table continued to rise and plunge Ben’s cock into Anita’s hot wet and well lubricated pussy. The sensations in Ben’s body were intense. He was ass-fucked by Ron and cock fucking Anita’s pussy. He lost all care and concern and concentrated on trying to buck his ass in such a way as to fuck his cock down into Anita as deeply as possible, and then back his ass up onto Ron’s fingers on the return stroke. He was getting quite good at this, when Anita suddenly reached up and held him down on the down stroke.

“OK, Ron, take him!” She held onto Ben like a vice. He heard the words, but couldn’t believe them. The upper half of his torso was prone on top of the gorgeous Anita, his cock buried in her hot wet pussy. His legs were held apart somewhat by ropes or straps or whatever, and his knees were folded up under his chest, far enough apart to let his chest down on her glorious tits. Her own knees were folded similarly and pushed further aside by Ben’s. And then he felt it.

Ron’s cock was up against Ben’s well lubed sphincter and suddenly thrust forward. Ron gave a low groaning “Humf!” with his push. The instant pain of such a large object up his ass gave Ben a start that translated to his hips which leaped forward in attempt to flee the assault. The momentum served only to shove his cock more deeply up Anita’s pussy hole, causing her to echo her husband’s groan with a longer, deeper one of her own. Ron remained there for several seconds, buried to the pubic  hairs in Ben’s ass. Ben in turn, remained dead still, buried as well, but in Anita’s cunt. It was a moment none of them would ever forget. It was a moment of unbeatable contact, unqualified success in coupling, or “tripling” and a moment of unprecedented fulfillment for each of them. It took only three repeated deep strokes by Ron to bring them all to explosive, simultaneous orgasm. 

Ron launched a torrent of jism up Ben’s ass. Ron didn’t get all of the picture of the act in his mind at once, but his body reacted overly incensed, causing his own earnest contact inside Anita. Anita felt that her husband’s own cock was the one insider her, knowing that it was his that fired the first round that brought the second shaft into her so deeply. Each thrust of Ron’s cock was immediately felt at her cervix, delivered there by Ben’s own heated thrusting shaft. She had just added a foot or two to her husband’s cock and still had it drilled into her cunt. The orgasm was so electrifying that it surpassed any other encounters she had been able to arrange through their entire marriage and before. The blast of hot cum in her cunt was like boiling liquid, put there by a red hot poker, pushed there by yet another one. She looked up at the ceiling mirror again and marveled at the absolute completeness of the linking of the three bodies together. She could see Ron’s cock sliding out, and then back into Ben’s ass. She could see Ben’s sphincter muscle alternately attempting to deny entry, and then to deny exit by clinging to her husband’s cock as long and tightly as possible. Her body shook again with the throws of orgasm. “More! More! I want MORE!!!” She began softly and quickly built to longing, near panic stricken yelling. “Fuck me you bastards! Fuck me!” She was humping up and down against Ben, as if trying to feel her husband’s cock through his. 

And suddenly she had an idea. “Ron, Darling, oh Baby, fuck me in the ass too.  I want your cock in my ass at the same time, Baby. I need fucking in the worst way, Baby!” She was in a state of insatiability. It was all consuming her. Ben didn’t have to see her to know this. Her voice alone was of desperation and lust. Her movements under his body were frantic, jerking. She continued to hump up against his groin, sucking his every cell of cock down into her pussy.

Ron heard her. He always did. Whatever Anita wanted, Anita got as far as he was concerned. He had never before regretted going along with her little games. He sure didn’t regret his first opportunity to shove his cock up one of her stand-in sex partners. It was at first like revenge. Then it became punishment for him. Now that it was done, and felt so good, it was his wife sharing her innermost desires and acquisitions with him. She had brought him new knowledge about himself. He was liberated yet again by yet another perverse act by Anita. He was flying lust personified.

He pulled his cock from Ben’s ass with a plopping sound. Cum immediately started to dribble out of Ben’s hole. It trailed down his crack until it reached the point where it would have had to follow paths against gravity to stay connected with Ben. The cum dripped down onto Anita’s crack below, landing between her pussy and asshole. It flowed further, pooling in the mini-crater formed by her own poop chute opening. Ron saw the writing on the wall.

With another “Humf!” he pushed his cock back into a warm tight place, but this time that of his wife. It was tighter than Ben’s hole had been even thought this might be because he had spent some time loosening Ben up before plunging in. This hole felt hotter too, though that could be simply because he was dangling for a minute or so in the air. It didn’t matter. Whatever the reason, his cock felt more tightly held now, and something new made its presence known quickly. 

Ben felt Ron’s cock join him inside the womb of Anita. The sensation of another shaft plunging into her at the same time as him, attacking from the second hole in her defenses, was so hot for Ben his cock didn’t miss a beat. He began timing his own bucking to coincide with Ron’s to ensure they both plunged as deep as possible and as fast as possible into this hot inviting woman. Ben knew she must be watching on the ceiling mirror he remembered seeing earlier, seeing two men, behind and on top of her, plunging their hungry horny cocks into both her holes at once. It was a gang bang of two taking her now. And Anita was loving every second of it.

Ben suddenly started grunting through his ball gag. Anita didn’t hear him at first, so occupied in the lustful delight of a double fucking. But she did finally reached up and pulled the gag from his mouth.

“Ahhhhh….. my ass! I need something in my ass!!!” Ben blurted out. 

Anita smiled broad enough to turn to laughter. So the locksmith loved the violation of his ass. So much so, he couldn’t go on with such an act unfulfilled. “Ron, Darling, please be so kind as to shove something up his ass for me will you? And then let’s fuck our brains out, please?” 

Ron hardly heard her, but finally complied. He shoved a large butt plug up the locksmith’s tunnel and smiled at the reaction.

“Ooooooooohhhh yes! Oh damn, I love that so…” Ben was nearly delirious with heat.

“Oh, Ron Darling, one more thing.” Anita cooed, trying to control her tone while being fucked by two cocks in two different holes.

“YES!” Ron was trying to pay attention to her.

“Ron, Darling, I want you to shove another plug up your own ass, NOW!” She left no question as to her intent and the urgency of the command.

Ron reached over to the drawer and pulled another plug from it. He tried to dip it as best he could in the still open jar of K-Y. Then he reached around behind and found his asshole with the tip of the plug.

Anita was watching and took over the timing. “Ok, you sexy horny men, when I tell Ron, he will shove the butt plug up his ass and you will both fuck me like you have never fucked before! Got it?”

They both nodded and concentrated on the approaching sensations. Even though Ben would feel nothing from the latest dildo itself, he would certainly feel the reaction from Ron’s self-insertion of it. And reaction was a mild term in this case.

“OK, Ron, it’s at the door. When I tell you, I want you to shove it all the way in. No stopping, no taking your time, just plunge it all the way to the hilt on the first push, just like you did to each of us. Got it? Ready?”

Ron shook his head affirmatively. He was a robot for her now. Anita could tell him to jump off a bridge. He would grab his cock and fly.

“Now!” Anita shouted, startling them both. Ron recovered and shoved the large butt plug up his ass in one rough movement.

“Ough!” He burst from deep in his lungs. His hips pushed back at the beginning of his plunge, but his hand and plug rammed forward as the penetration gained momentum. 

“Ughhhhh!” Anita echoed. When Ron thrust forward, he also plowed once again into his wife’s ass. She received the reaction she was looking for as it seemed her husband was now even deeper up her ass than before. She in turn bucked straight up at Ben’s waiting cock and groin.

“YES!” Ben nearly yelled. When Anita slammed up against him, he felt his balls make serious contact with her body and the whole connection became intense. He did everything he could in his restraints to plow right back down into her. With his mouth un-gagged, he suddenly realized he had another tool to put to work. He tilted his head toward his chest and managed to suck one of Anita’s nipples into his mouth. She let out another squeal as he sucked it deep into his mouth and then nibbled on the defenseless morsel with his teeth.

“AAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!” Anita leapt to even higher heights than she had flown before. Her orgasm exploded once again and even she could feel her juices gushing out of her cunt and dripping down on the other cock that was pumping her ass. Both men were letting her have it too. Two cocks were up her holes with their nectar. One mouth was gobbling her tits, shifting from one to the other at just the right moment of torment. There could be no more fulfilling sex on the planet. She was totally involved, totally skewered, completely filled by two gorgeous men who couldn’t get enough of her. Surely this was the best yet. They fucked each other into oblivion.




The Locksmith



He looked around. He was in a strange couple’s bedroom, not something that was totally new to him in his work, but not something that was totally comfortable either. The bed was made with a featherbed and comforter, judging form the massive hills and valleys in the lush looking softness of it. There were several pillows at the top and a few spread around the huge space of the king sized bed. There were two walk-in closets in the wall at the foot of the be, and a couple dressers and night tables to either side. This was by far the biggest room he had seen so far in the house and obviously a place where they spent a lot of time. It had a large screen, flat panel tv on the wall directly at the foot of the bed, and a mirror behind the head. Ben then glanced upward and surely there was another mirror, nearly the size of the footprint of the bed.

Ben suddenly snapped too and marched immediately out of the bedroom. He started down the hall again toward the stairs, and then remembered he had to check all the doors. Stumbling in his abrupt turn, he caught himself before a fall and quickly raced through all the rooms to gather the information he needed to replace all the locks. More than once he bumped into walls or doors and felt like a fool for being so much on edge. Somehow he knew he had to have this woman, whether her husband liked it or not, and despite the risk he faced at home if discovered. He had to have Anita, in the worst of ways. Nothing could be allowed to stop him.

Finished with the first and second floors, note book in hand, Ben suddenly realized there was a basement door between the kitchen and lower hall. He turned and pulled the handle, also noting the locking device, and found the light switch. 

There was no surprise yet, for which Ben was somewhat relieved. Just a set of two-by-ten construction type stairs with a two-by-four railing supported on smaller styles. This could be no more than perhaps an outsde lock on a cellar door. He descended and found another switch to light the rest of the basement. 

Surely, there was only one entry way visible, that of a backyard cellar walk-down. Approaching it he could see it was locked form the outside, probably a hasp and padlock, and he decided immediately to upgrade the system with a full access assembly. As he was returning to the base of the stairs, he noticed something odd about one wall. The basement walls were all concrete block, and showing the usual cracking seem here and there, but in one section, there seemed to be a contiguous seem around an entire section, floor to ceiling and varying in width from about three to four feet, depending on which pattern of blocks the crack followed.

Ben knew immediately this was a false wall. It was his business. “What could these two have to hide?” He wondered out loud. Without thinking about it, he quickly set about discovering the way in. He checked his watch again and saw that only fifteen minutes had passed so he took his time. This enabled him to quickly find the “switch” he was looking for hidden above a cross brace in the floor joists behind the stairs. It was apparent that someone would be able to find the device with no lights on simply by following the right rafter from the stairs with their hand. Clever.

There was a click and the door glided open about a foot, also releasing a door jam light switch like those in some closets. Ben edged over to it and pulled it slowly the rest of its range. At about 90 degrees to the wall, the exceedingly heavy door fetched up and he stepped into the room.

Bright red cushioned walls were covered in a felt like material and highlighted by a variety of silver and black leather bondage devices. There was a rack on one wall, like at a school gymnasium with several horizontal bars and a couple of soft ropes hanging from several symmetrical places. Another wall hosted a few sets of padded handcuffs in various places about the surface from floor to ceiling. There as a table in toward the middle of the room, more like a hospital berthing table, stirrups and all. It appeared to be hydraulically hoisted and lowered to any position, and on a swivel as well. A swing made of several straps hung near one corner and a set of stocks near another. As Ben looked around he could see every manor of paraphernalia that he could imagine, and several he’d never thought of. He was so sure they had it all that he didn’t even have to try to guess what might be missing. This was the most well equipped bondage chamber he’d ever seen. Hell, he thought. It was the ONLY bondage chamber he’d ever seen!

Ben looked around some more, touched a few things here and there, and suddenly realized he was fantasizing what it would be like to have Anita tied up in some of these devices. There were hoods and gags hanging on a kind of “tools” rack. The floor was a soft rubber mat, like a wrestling surface. He then saw his shoes had been leaving imprints in the material and he scooted out the door.

It was several minutes that he had to watch to make sure his imprints finally erased themselves, and he used the time to examine the locking device on the door. In addition to the rafter switch, he found a lock inside the door so people inside could prevent access from someone who found the switch outside. Additionally, he looked around the chamber more carefully and spotted air ducts and other lights to make this room totally customizable and survivable for long periods. What a couple this must be, he thought. She dresses to the nine’s to pick him up at the airport after flirting maddeningly with Ben, and then they come home and whip each other into a frenzy in the dungeon. Ohhhhhh… he thought. What he would give to have her in this chamber for even an hour, let alone a night.

Ben pulled himself from the basement and finished his inventory of locks in the house. He would replace 18 in all. Big job. That was just the gravy on this situation. Looking at his watch, he saw only 45 minutes had past since Anita’s departure. The temptation was too great to resist. He stepped slowly back up the stairs to the master bedroom.

Ben looked around and picked out which dresser was his and which was hers. He walked straight to the latter and pulled the first drawer open. It contained a series of belts and sashes and the like. Not too interesting. He pulled the small drawer next to it and found the costume jewelry. Again, not interesting.

Ben pulled the next tier’s left drawer and hit pay dirt. Though he had no idea what he was looking for from the start, he knew he’d found it when he saw the pile of panties filling the drawer. Some were silk, some cotton, some all lace and several completely plain. There was probably every combination in between, he figured. Involuntarily, he leaned forward and sniffed the drawer. It was woman all the way, scented with perfume not bodily secretions of course, but woman all the way anyway. 

His head suddenly turned toward the dressing table Anita had been standing at. If she wasn’t wearing panties when she had left for the airport, perhaps she had discarded a pair getting dressed. Then he snapped around again and took a sanity check on himself. “What the fuck am I doing!?” He exclaimed out lout. “Fishing around in some strange woman’s underwear? Damn! This woman is driving me crazy!”

But crazy as it was, he continued rummaging around the dressing table. He found the drawer beside the panties contained her bras. Lifting one out, he could see the “38D” markings to confirm her earlier disclosure and the intimacy with this knowledge excited him further. This particular bra was of the type that offered some transparency. One could easily make out the areola of it’s occupants, even distinguish the nipples in color, as well as in form. The softness of the material would be life-like, as if there was no bra at all, if worn under something like a button down shirt. 

The tug of war in his conscience was growing. One head was telling him to get out of that house and forget this whole deepening affair before he risk his marriage, and his career. The other head was saying, “See what else we can find!” He closed all the drawers and entered the huge bathroom. The bidet stood out immediately once inside. It caught his eye and distracted him from his search only for a second or two though for he was now like a bull on a mission. Laundry basket. Where the hell was it?

Pay dirt came once again when Ben found the rollout bin hidden in the wall behind the bathroom door. He pulled it open aggressively and there they were. Pink, silk, smooth, medium coverage panties. They would have looked perfect under her leather skirt. And now they were his. He didn’t even think of the fact that taking them was theft. He’d never taken a think from a client’s premises before and suddenly all that honor and loyalty was about to fall to a moment of thinking with the wrong head. He was embarrassed at himself, but not so much so that he didn’t pick the dainty under garment up and bring them to his nose.

THIS, was a woman! He thought while smiling his appreciation of the scent of Anita. It was intoxicating. She smelled of her perfume and her fluids of desire. She must have been wet while speaking with Ben and secreted sufficient amounts to wet her panties and leave plenty of her scent for the now insanely horny man. Ben’s cock was bursting in his pants.

He put the panties between his teeth, gently, and used his hands to loosen his fly and let his cock stretch. It wasn’t huge, or long like some, but it was extremely hot and stiff right now. With one hand on his cock, and the other holding the panties, he draped them over the head and slid them around to sense the silky smoothness of their touch. He was in heaven and leaned his head back and opened his mouth in a kind of submission to desire. Ben was beside himself with lust and capable of almost anything in this state.

Finally, he ceased massaging his cock with his hand and the panties long enough to step out of the bathroom. Upon entering the bedroom, he saw himself in another mirror, with the panties hanging on his cock. It was too much and without knowing what or why, he loosened his belt and slipped his pants down to the floor. His loafers kicked free and the pants followed. Then he pushed his jockeys down and slipped them off and tucked them into a pocket in his jeans, just so he wouldn’t forget them.

Instinctively, he slipped the panties onto his legs and forced them up his thighs. Fortunately, they stretched to fit him, albeit snuggly over his cock and ever so tightly around his ass. He leaned back again in the luxurious smoothness and intimacy of wearing this hot piece of Anita so soon after she had taken it off. This was far too good to be true – yet far too good to be anything but real.

Chapter Three

Anita stood by the side of the car. The small regional airport was just outside of town and Ron was due ten minutes ago. The meeting with the locksmith, Ben Jarvey, she liked the name, had stirred her up. She had wanted to seduce him then and there in the bedroom earlier but she had to pick up Ron. Ron was good to her, catered to her every wish, bought her whatever she wanted, and tolerated her sexual appetite in every way. She smiled as she thought of how he most often joined in with her games and enjoyed them nearly as much as she did. Could life get any better, she wondered.

The two engine King Air charter plane pulled up in front of her on the other side of the fence. The stairs were down nearly the instant the engines stopped, and certainly before the props had ceased to turn. Ron was a shorter man than Ben, and just a bit stocky in frame. His hair was slicked back, black as night, and he carried himself with the pride of a successful businessman.

“Honey!” Anita was a picture of beauty for Ron to come home to. She stood on one foot, leaning against the car, and waving excitedly to get his attention. He smiled and waved with his free hand and walked quickly to the opening in the fence to join her.

They kissed deeply, Ron with one arm around her waist, pulling her up to him, and Anita with one foot kicked back to show her true devotion and love for her man. They remained in this embrace for sometime.

“Ron, I simply have to tell you about our locksmith!” She was bubbling with excitement. “He is so handsome, and soooo nice!” 

Ron knew what was coming eventually and had gotten used to his wife’s sexual demands. One man was simply not enough, no matter WHO that man was. She was one of those people who simply had to have new partners frequently in order to be totally satisfied. And Anita’s total satisfaction was far more important to Ron than a little thing like ego. Of course, he had thought many times, if the outside partner had been more successful than he, well, the story might be different, but Anita never brought home someone like that. Funny, he thought. Wonder why.

“He’s changing all the locks on our house for us, just like you asked last month. I finally got around to looking for someone and you won’t believe how nice he is. I sure hope you will like him as much as I do.” She was visibly shaken by this guy more than the others, he sensed. There was a note of danger surfacing, but each time that had happened in the past it had proven to be false. Anita was true to him and would not forsake him. He forced the feelings down.

“I am sure I will, Baby. I am sure I will.” Ron smiled. There were times that he actually got into the games Anita played. Who knows, this could be one of those. He was not a closed minded man. “Let’s get home so I can see and touch and gobble you up.” They hugged and got into the car.

Ben was totally naked now except for his watch and Anita’s panties. He was looking at himself in their bed head mirror and playing with his hands around his cock and balls and Anita’s panties. The feelings were exotic, tantalizing, burning embers of combustion that his mind was having more and more difficulty managing.

Suddenly, he heard the front door open. The sound of the key in the lock was as unmistakable, as the following noises of entry. The sounds of two people entering… the door closing behind them… footsteps coming up the stairs. Ben was panicked. He instinctively grabbed up his clothes and rushed for the nearest door. It was one of the walk-in closets, obviously the man’s, and he tried to crouch down behind the entrance, pulling hanging suits in front of him. 

As he awaited his fate, he realized he was curled up in the closet like a kid, wearing nothing but Anita’s dirty silk panties, and suddenly felt his well thought out, comfortable life slipping away. He was cowering like a naughty child in a corner, totally at a loss as to what to do. Footsteps entered the bedroom.

“I’m soooo glad you are home honey,” Anita was saying.

“Me too, Baby, I don’t like to leave you alone.” There was some rustling of clothing. “You know I wish you would come with me on those trips. There’s plenty of room on that company plane.” More rustling, as if they were undressing, faster and faster.

Ben felt the cramp beginning in his knees. He had to get some relief. The couple just yards away was making some noise still with clothing, but he didn’t feel it was sufficient to mask his own noise if he started to shift in the closet. Besides, he thought, how long could he wait them out? How long would he HAVE to wait them out. His mind began conjuring up worst case scenario’s. Hell, he thought, they could be in here all night!

“You know I don’t like to fly Baby.” Anita was saying between kisses. “I just wait for you to come home.”

“Yeah, right,” Ron said sarcastically.

“Really, Ron. You know I don’t fool around without you.” 

Ben’s eyes blinked wide. She WAS coming on to him, and WAS looking to get laid! His beautiful, hot little tomato at the office was in heat for him and would have let him have his way with her if only this husband hadn’t returned when he did. Or would she? She just said she wouldn’t fool around without the husband?

“I know baby. I know.” Ron added confidently. “Well, I’m here now and there’s no need for anyone else to help you out. I can take care of your every need myself tonight.” He chuckled under his breath and there was the sound of more rustling. It could easily have been from the bed clothes, thought Ben.

Anita knew that Ron knew better. Yes, he was a great lover and could do a terrific job in bed. The trouble was not the need for hotter sex from him. The ever insatiable need was for different partners, like the locksmith. Even now, as her husband was massaging her breasts through the knit dress, Anita was thinking of the locksmith, wishing he were here to show her his cock, to let her play with it, to let her pull it into her in every way imaginable. She would have that man eventually, or die trying.

Ben’s cramping was getting critical. He had to do something soon or his legs would go limp and drop him on the closet floor like a stone. And then he would be caught. Thoughts of his infidelity continued to creep into his mind. As much as he wanted to shift and look out of the closet at his intense desire, he was shamed by the thought that he was in her closet, wearing only her panties, and not at home with his faithful wife.

“Honey, I need a drink.” Ron announced abruptly. He rose from the bed and started for the door. Still partially clothed, but somewhat hotter now thanks to the opportunity to play with his wife’s tits and have her rubbing his buns. He asked on the way out the door, “Want anything?”

“Sure baby, how about a little red wine?” And then there was silence in the room.

Ben didn’t know why, but he let his instincts combine with his intuition, and moved quickly. He rose and stepped into the doorway of the closet.

“Oh my God….” Anita was sitting up, against the head board, and put her hands to her mouth in apparent fright.

Ben put his finger to his lips to shush her. He was standing there in a half crouch, wearing only her panties still, and gathering up his clothes in a neater ball under his arms.

“Ben! What are you doing here?” Anita whispered the words, but with all the surprise one would expect. Curiously however, she also smiled. She was not the least bit frightened, and now oddly curious about what Ben was wearing. “Why Ben, are those my panties?” She was smiling broadly now. “Ben darling, those ARE my panties, aren’t they!” 

Ben kept putting his finger to his lips, trying to shush her before she exposed him to her husband. Anita acted as if she didn’t hear him.

“Well I’ll be. You have been here the whole time, while I was gone.” She rose from the bed and walked deliberately to him. When directly before him, she reached down and grabbed a handful of cock and balls through her panties and smiled cockily up at her latest conquest and said, “Why Ben, you are truly happy to see me. And I you, you see? Feel me greeting you in my panties? Ohhhhh.. what a nice present, to have you waiting for me!” She continued to fondle his balls. The sound of glasses clinked downstairs, a cabinet door opening, a few other noises to indicate that Ron was still not coming back.

“I.. I’m so sorry, Anita…” Ben was trying to apologize, hoping beyond hope that there might still be a way out of this outrageous situation.

“Oh, Ben.” She rubbed him more, sliding her hand up and down the panties covering his cock. The sight of Ben in her own dirty underwear was driving her crazy. She wanted him desperately at that moment. “I am so HAPPY you stayed. Don’t you worry, I am going to make this all right. Here, come into my closet. You will be safe here.” She shuffled him over to the other closet, packed with far more clothing, and pushed some aside for him to get behind.

Ben reluctantly followed her lead and scooted down into a more comfortable position near the door but behind a variety of dresses. Anita fussed over the presentation to ensure he could not be seen by Ron, and then surprised Ben yet again. Pushing one garment slightly aside, she said, “Here, hold this over just a bit. There. Can you see the bed now?”




The Locksmith



Ben thought he had died and gone to heaven, again. She was not only protecting him, but placing him so he could watch what happens in her bed! His mind was racing, wondering whether he would be able to see everything, then cautious to remain hidden, then worried he would not like what he saw as this vision of sex and desire was about to be taken by another man. He was confused. 

Anita gave Ben a kiss on the forehead and rose to step back and admire her work. Ben was not visible, except if one looked intensely at one particular spot in a dark area that housed his eyes. No one would ever notice. And Ron would never go into her closet. The stage was set for a wonderfully new experience for her where she would perform for an audience her fellow cast member didn’t even know was there. Anita was getting wet with excitement. Ben was feeling the pre-cum wet his now sanctioned panties.

Chapter Four

“Here, baby.” Ron offered her a glass. “Merlot to get you warm.” He smiled devilishly and was somewhat taken aback by his wife’s own devilish smile in return. They were standing beside the bed and both sipped their wine while looking at each other. Ron put his glass down suddenly and turned toward his small bag. While Anita watched with a sly smile on her lips, her husband opened and unpacked the overnight case. He dropped some underwear in the laundry cabinet and hung a suit in his closet. Anita smiled especially broadly as he stepped by the spot where Ben had been only minutes ago. He then folded his bag and tossed it into the back of the closet and came back into the bedroom.

“I missed you darling,” Anita said with her arms stretched toward him.

“Really? No substitutes around to take my place?” He always had just a hint of jealousy in his voice, but it never manifested itself in any further action. Would it be different under the current circumstances?

Anita pouted coyly and pulled her man to her. She went up on her tiptoes again, kicked one leg back, and pulled his head down to hers. They were profiled across Ben’s view and he could not help but watch as she pushed her chest up against Ron’s, bulging her tits outward between them. He could also see the tongues reaching between each other, the longing for some pure raw sex, just like he was longing in her panties in the closet. 

Ron’s hands reached around her and down to her butt cheeks and pulled on the hot flesh of her ass to raise her up to him. They were embraced in a hot horny clutch and obviously both loving every bit of it. 

Ben next saw Ron scrunching Anita’s dress up her thighs, and over her hips. He had been right, no panties underneath. Ron’s hands then resumed their grasp of Anita’s ass and massaged her buns liberally. Anita was performing similar massage on her husband’s ass, though through his jeans. Suddenly she leaned her head back and began to undo the buttons of his shirt. One by one they came undone until there were no more. She then pulled his shirt from his pants in a kind of urgent, careless way. When free, her hands touched his chest as if it were some sacred alter, an alter upon which she was about the sacrifice herself to whatever the gods wanted.

Ben’s cock was already rock hard, yet getting even harder. He wanted desperately to grab it and massage the ache away, but he didn’t dare. The noise would be unmistakable. He contented himself to watch intently between the last item of clothing and the door jam of the closet as the horny couple proceeded to satisfy their lust without him. 

Anita pushed her hands out to Ron’s shoulders, sliding them under the shirt she was about to remove. As it came down, Ron let his arms fall and the garment dropped to the floor. Anita stood back for a couple seconds to admire her man’s lightly haired chest. He was fit, worked out, and warranted the extra look. Then she put her arms around him and held him tight. She put her head beside his chest, turning them both slightly, and then she winked at Ben!

Ben was beside himself with surprise. She winked at him! She was performing! She was glad he was watching! Just what had he fallen into?

“Oh, Ron, darling, I need you inside me so badly.” She was still looking at Ben, while lusting after her husband. Ben was confused and intensely aroused at the same time. She was blatantly goading him, he who she knew was sitting in her closet in her dirty panties, while making love to her husband. Ben wanted it all to be over, to be out of there, to never come back. And then he couldn’t help but try to brace himself to relax some muscles and give himself a chance to rub his cock. He couldn’t leave. There was no way to make it all over. He was captive, stuck, with no alternative. He may as well settle down for the long show he figured must be ahead. This Anita was no average lady. She was a woman of passion, intelligence, and a cunning mind that had no bounds. 

At that very moment, Ben gave in to the situation and decided to ride the tide. There was nothing else he could do, and he might as well enjoy himself while the action played itself out. What was the worst that could happen, he asked. He pushed aside the question as the possibilities began to get ugly.

Anita was facing the closet, and Ben, and holding Ron’s back to the same targets. She decided to put on the next scene and dropped to her knees. Doing so, she also slithered to her left to force Ron to turn about 90 degrees. Ben knew what was next, and that Anita had executed her movements strictly for his benefit. He started documenting the steps in his mind, just in case he ever got the chance to play them back for her. As the couple rotated, they came into a profile view of Ben’s position. Ron’s cock was as stocky as his body, and of about average length. At least Ben had one thing over this guy, a slight amount of length. He felt a little better.

Anita said, “I want to suck your cock, baby. I want to make your cock hard and ready to spear me when and where I tell you.” Ron could only moan as her hands delivered the head to her lips. They went into a suction mode immediately and she sucked his head like a kid suck’s a Popsicle. The slurping was heard all over the room. At one point, Anita looked up and saw that Ron had his head back, eyes skyward, in ecstasy. He was so busy reveling in the soft sucking motion of her mouth on his dick, her hands milking it slowly, that he did not see his wife turn her head to look at the closet.

Ben smiled as they made eye contact. He spread his knees and a few garments quietly to show her his crotch, and how tightly her panties were restraining his stiff cock. He rubbed his hand up and down, put a lurid face of “fuck me” on himself, and tried to intensify her experience. By the look on her face, suddenly bulging eyes, renewed vigor applied to her husband’s cock, Ben was having the desired effect. And Anita loved it. Ron wasn’t missing out on the benefits either.

“Oh, baby, you are gonna make me cum, baby.” Ron was still staring at the ceiling. He had his hands in his wife’s hair and was unknowingly pulling her head into his groin where it met the reverse pumping of his hips and cock into her mouth. The head was no longer enough. He was forcing himself deeply into her throat, causing her to choke every now and then, but never seeing her gag to pull away. “Yes, baby, fuck my cock with your mouth!”

Anita was so busy, and so full of cock in her mouth and throat, she could manage little more than a moan and a nod, both of which actually intensified the situation for Ron. She would comply with her husband’s comman. She would milk him to the last drop. She grabbed his cock with both hands and began to pump more vigorously. Within a minute, Ron was letting go a stream of sperm that could have crossed the room. As it was, Anita had pulled her head back off the cock to give Ben a view of the first barrage. It came with a vengeance and leaped directly from Ron’s cock to Anita’s mouth. She caught it all, then clamped her lips down on his cock to catch the rest. While doing so, she shifted her gaze to Ben.

Ben smiled. He had lost all concerns for his guilt. He was into Anita’s game all the way. The scene before him was like being at the filming of a porn movie, but then again it was so much more than that. He felt something for Anita, not love or devotion or anything like that, but a deep lustful desire. It was so much better than watching two unknown’s make love. He rubbed his crotch some more and pulled the panties down slightly in front to reveal his stiff cock to her. He smiled at the immediate reaction in her eyes as they widened and she sucked that much harder on the draining cock in her mouth. It was like Ben was the one coming in her mouth, not Ron.

“My god, baby,” Ron exclaimed, “What got into you! That was the hardest sucking blow job you ever gave me!” He was looking down fondly at her, “Is there something going on that I don’t know about Honey? Did something happen while I was away?” He was truly asking her for an answer.

Anita could not resist. She had always been totally open with Ron. She always would be. “I don’t know yet, baby. I think so though. But I’ll save that surprise for later.” She smiled up at him and knew he couldn’t resist her. Ron dropped the topic.

“Come up here you, I want a taste of you now.” Ron lifter her under her arms and brought her all the way up and off her feet. He twirled around and placed her back on her feet, at the foot of the bed, and pushed her back. She was still wearing her tight knit dress and it still contained her large delicious tits, but he would get his chance at those later. For now, “Ok, baby, now spread those hot thighs for I am about to come all the way home to you now.”

Anita put a hand up as if to hold him off temporarily. She looked up at him to ensure he was focused on the triangle between her legs, and then looked right at Ben and smiled as she slowly spread her knees apart.

Ben’s eyes were straining, and lit up with excitement at the same time. Anita had positioned her self perfectly to enable him to see her crotch as she opened her thighs. Ron stood there, just to the side of his view, and watched just as intently as Ben did as the cavern was slowly exposed. Anita brought her legs almost out to her sides before she reached her limit, and never once took her eyes off of Ben. 

Ben figured she must have been happy with his bug-eyed response for she smiled once more at him and then took her attention back to her husband. It was then that Ron kneeled down and dove his head between her legs and began to suck her clit.

“Ohhhhhhh! Yes Baby, suck me, yes baby, suck my clit. It is so swolen and horny for you….. Yes baby suck on my clit for me…” All the time she was begging her husband’s attention, she was looking over his back and head directly at Ben. She even mouthed a few words to him specifically in between her pronouncements to her husband. And through it all, she was smiling devilishly at him, tauntingly as if to dare him to join them.

Ben was not ready to go that far yet, but he sure felt she deserved a little in return. He boldly, though silently, raised himself up and inserted his thumbs in the sides of Anita’s panties. Pushing them down to about the widest point on his hips, he then reached for his cock and began to stroke it more vigorously for her. He too began to mouth lustful thoughts at her. “I want to fuck you so bad,” was one Anita picked up. 

When she understood that statement, she jerked her hips up at her husband so hard that Ben could do nothing but see it as her answer to his wish. “I want to suck you,” He added. “I want to drink your juice.”

Anita jerked with each recognized statement. Ben jerked too, and finally could hold his cum no more. With one hand on his cock, and the other in front of it, he tried to catch his eruption while not impairing Anita’s view of his action. It was not easy, and several drops escaped to the floor. He lost sight of Anita for a moment or two at the height of his orgasm, but saw her again, staring directly at his cock. He had had the desired effect. It was no longer a one way street.

Anita began shouting every phrase of lust and horny desire she could think of. She coupled this with a wild bucking ride for her husband’s head in her cunt. “IIIIIIIEEEEEEEEE Suck my cunt you monster you! Fuck my cunt with your tongue!!! Eat me baby, eat my pussy and suck my clit!! Ohhhhhhhh.. baby don’t stop, ever!!!” And all the while, she was watching Ben cum.

Ben had one more idea to drive her further to the edge. He continued to hold his shaft with the one hand, while raising his “catching” hand to his mouth. Anita raised her violent bucking and shouting to a new level when she saw Ben stick his tongue into his hand and rake it through his cum. He lifted it, revealing a string of the goo still connected to his hand, and drew what he could into his mouth. Ben smiled at her and saw her nod her head up and down. She was nuts with excitement and he did it again. After several more slurps, he looked at his hand and saw it was clean. With an over-confidence he knew he really didn’t deserve, he raised his hand up and turned it toward Anita so she could see it was now empty. Ben simply smiled at her, and winked right back. This was going to be a long night.

Part TWO is coming...



The Lockwell's of Virginia



 The sex in this particular tale is secondary to the plot of the story. This is not a torch the bitch story. If you want to read that type of story look elsewhere. Those of you that don't like a wife cheating on her husband and cuckolding him, should go no further with this story. This story is about cuckolding and cheating.

*

If you have ever been to Virginia you have probably heard about my family, the Lockwell's. I am Vincent Lockwell and I am president and owner of Lockwell Industries. My family and I own two food procession plants in Virginia as well as a chain of electronic outlets in every state on the east coast. But my biggest achievement, the one in which I take the most pride in, is the Lockwell law firm which two of my sons and one of my daughters helped me built over the years.

Oh yes, I forgot to mention that I am also responsible for the introduction and production of some prestigious and of course very expensive brands of wine. I always tend to forget that part of my empire but there is a good reason for this.

You see I am a lawyer or should I say I was a lawyer when I was younger. I am now 88 and at this very moment, while I am explaining to you what is going on inside my mind, I am in a hospital stretched on my deathbed.

Yes, the doctors discovered a year ago that I had liver cancer; I was told yesterday that I was about to meet my maker in a few short hours. Each of my children came to visit me earlier in the day. I saw many tears in their eyes and I know that they all love me very much. Now I am suppose to rest, but my mind is in the process of reliving all the important events that occurred in my life before I undertake this final trip.

I have nothing to complain with my life, well very little. Except for a few wrong decisions I made and a few bad deeds, which were done over the years and of which I am ashamed and ask the good Lord to forgive me, I sincerely believe that I have live a good life. I also know that I will be leaving my mark on this world.

But by far, the greatest feat in my entire life and that which I am the most proud of, was raising my children in the path of rightness and fairness and planting in their mind the notion of always respecting others.

You see, my wife and I, we raised a family of six children, three boys and three girls. Every single one of them is now married and with children of his or her own. But what makes it so special about my children is not the fact that my wife and I raised them to become good and caring individual. No, in those days when my wife and I began working on our family, it was expected of young couples to have many children and for parents to guide them on the right path in life.

No, what makes it so special for me is the fact that when I was a young teen - it was in the early forties then - I became very sick. For two days and two nights I had a very high fever. I did get well after a week or so, but later in life when I was older, I learned that the fever had affected my capacity to have children. When I had myself checked after a few years of married life, and once I realized that my wife was still not in the family way, I was told by my doctor that my sperm count was zero. In other word I would never be able to father children.

Now you might ask yourself, how is it possible for me to be the father of six children when I was always shooting blanks? Some might suggest that I married a widow with six children and raise them as my own; others might believe that we started adopting children once we were married.

No! We didn't do anything like that. Let me tell you how it all happened.

* * *

I was born in the year 1922 in a small town on the east coast of the United States. My father abandoned my mother just a few years after I was born and when I was five, my mother died of tuberculoses. I don't even remember my mother's face and have never seen a picture of her -- it was not very common to take picture in those days. But I was told later (by my grandmother with whom I went to live) that she was very pretty and that she loved me a lot.

After the death of my mother, I went to live with my grandmother in a large house on the fringe of a small town called Rockridge. In those days life was simple and difficult, half of the children of my age didn't go to school at all and the other half either had rich parents or had to work at home while attending school. 

But even though I had not been born into a rich family, I was still one of the lucky one since my grandmother insisted that I completed my secondary education once I had graduated from primary school. So, for the next four years I was among the privilege one that attended Rockridge Secondary School.

Even though it was not common for someone to graduate from high school in those days, this was still not enough for my grandmother. She then insisted that I should go to college as soon as I was done with my high school education. By then WWII was just ending and the world economy was starting to roll again. 

Of course money was still very tight for us, this plus the fact that I had to board in a big city so as to continue with my schooling, was causing hardship on both of us. Soon grandma had to sell part of the farm to pay for my expenses. Then six months before I was to graduate as a lawyer, my grandmother who was my only living relative, died in her bed.

It was 1944 then and I was twenty-two. That year I graduated and became a lawyer.

Right after my graduation, I sold my grandmother's house as well as the rest of the land around the house and with the money from the sale of the farm; I bought a car and a small house in Rockridge. 

Until then I hadn't had the time or the money to go out with girls very often, my only experiences with the opposite sex being the half dozen dates that I had had. Of course I did get to kiss some of them and one even let me feel her breasts over her dress once, but this is about as far as my experience had gone with girls by the time I graduated.

It was just a few months after I began working that I met my future wife.

I had been hired to work for a small law firm in Rockridge and I was earning very good money. On weekends I used to jump in my car and ride around the countryside enjoying the scenery. In my heart I was still a country boy and I didn't like living in the city.

On one of those rides, while driving into the countryside about thirty miles from home; I was riding on a poorly maintained road and admiring the many trees on each side of the narrow road when I heard a strange clacking coming from the motor of my car.

For the last twenty minutes I hadn't seen any traffic and until I heard that strange noise coming from my motor, I was feeling very good, while admiring the countryside. Then a few seconds after hearing the noise the motor went dead. The car had just enough momentum for me to guide it safely to the side of the road. 

Of course I did open the hood and had a look inside. But since I knew very little about cars, I realized that I needed help.

The closest building I could see was the steeple of a small church about two miles ahead and way to my right. I could tell that it was located on a side road therefore I began to walk across the fields on a straight-line path toward the church. When I got there half an hour later I noticed a well-kept house situated a couple hundreds feet from the church.

I immediately walked to the house and knocked on the door. As soon as the door opened I experienced something I had never felt before in my life. It was as if the young woman standing in front of me had a strange power over me. I just stood there in front of her speechless and I couldn't take my eyes off her.

She was about twenty and of average height. She was certainly not a beauty queen but neither was she ugly. There was something about her that made me want to keep on looking at her. Even though I didn't realize it at the time, I felt in love with her on that first meeting.

Her name was Mary-Beth Goldman, she was the only child of the minister, she was living with her mother and father in the house next to the church. I learned a couple of weeks later than even thought she was twenty, she had never traveled farther than fifty miles from her house. I soon realized also, after I got to know her better, that she was unbelievably naïve for a girl of her age

Mary-Beth or Beth as I preferred to call her, had a strange effect on me from that first day I saw her, I felt extremely attracted to her, for some reason I couldn't explain to myself, I had a strong urge to hug her and hold her in my arms. I thus knew then, when I first saw her that day as she opened the door to me, that I was meeting my soul mate. She was the one whom I had been waiting for all my life and I knew that I had to get to know her better. 

She had shoulder long brown hair and stood about five foot and seven inches tall with strong hips and a very thin waist. Her large hazel eyes seamed to reach for me and I couldn't move my eyes away from her face. But what attracted my attention the most were her fleshy, plump lips that seemed made to be kiss. 

On that day, as she stood in front of me in the doorway of her house, she was wearing a knees-length plaid jumper with a long sleeves, white blouse underneath. Even so I could tell that she had a very generous and attractive bust underneath all the layers of clothing covering her.

It wasn't long before I started dating Beth. At first her father didn't approve of me but her mother did and since Beth was already twenty and old enough to choose for herself, I gradually got to know her better as we dated.

The first time I kissed her she was surprised at first. Even though she didn't protest, she didn't cooperate either. But when I kissed her again a few days later she kissed me back and I could tell that she liked what I was doing to her. From then on she would let me kiss her whenever I dared do it and it was very evident that she was enjoying it very much.

Soon kissing her led to fondling her bosom and then I discovered how beautiful her breasts were. They were even more attractive than I had imagined them to be. Being on the voluminous side, each was tipped with a long, brown nipple, which was centered in the exact middle of each circular, light brown areole. After that first time when I handled and kissed her bare bosom, I couldn't get enough of touching and pressing her beautiful breasts. 

We would pretend to be going to a movie and most of the times I would take her to my house where we would kiss and explore each other's body.

One early evening while we were in my house kissing, I took her hand and placed it over the front of my pants. Instead of immediately pulling her hand away as I half expected her to do, she proceeded to press and close her hand over my erection. Then all of a sudden she said to me in a trembling voice.

" Can I see your... thing Vincent?"

I remember answering in a soft voice full of emotion that sounded so weak.

" Yes, take it out, I want you to press it and rub it."

As soon as she had my erection in her right hand, I noticed that her breathing became much faster. A few seconds later, she reached for my erection with her left hands stroking and pressing it as if it was a work of art.

" It's so beautiful and warm. I have never seen one before."

" It's called a penis or a cock, Beth. Have you never heard those words before? " I said to her in a shaking voice.

" No of course not. My parents never allow me to talk about these matters."

She continued fondling my cock and balls for long minutes then all of sudden she said with a voice full of emotion.

" Please... can... can I kiss your... cock Vincent? Will it be ok with you if I kiss it? "

Who was I to say no to such a request? Yes, on that memorial evening she made love to my cock, there is no other word to describe what she did. She held it in her hands while kneeling between my legs and she handled my erection and balls as if they were a most sacred relic. I then watched her move her head slowly and very deliberately toward the head of my cock, all of a sudden I saw it disappear inside her mouth. For the next twenty minutes she proceeded to make love to my erection as she sucked and stroke it; she even managed, once in a while to take my balls into her hungry mouth.

"Your penis is so pretty Vincent, I wish I could always hold it in my hand and squeeze it. It's mine now and all mine."

Yes, making love to my erection is the only way to describe what she did that first time. Soon she was kissing the head and licking the whole length. Even though I tried to prevent it from happening, after a while I came on her lips and all over her face.

She looked surprise at first but that didn't stop her from licking and sucking all my juice with her tongue and lips.

Even though we didn't fuck that first time, I did get to feel her cunt and lick it. I even gave her a couple of orgasms with my mouth; it was now evident to me that she was sold on the idea of sucking and licking.

Naturally this led us later in the week to have complete intercourse, Beth took to having sex with me like a duck takes to water. Less than three months after we had started to go out together, she was always the one initiating sex with me. From then on, we were fucking whenever we were alone together.

Less than nine months after we had met, we were married and she moved into my house with me. By then Beth was dying to start having children and since I was now doing extremely well as a lawyer, we bought a much larger house in Rockridge Height, a house with a lot of land all around it. 

The house as well as the whole street was situated on a tall and long ridge on the southern part of town. It provided a wonderful view of the town itself below us as well as the wide river a few miles away. It was a very large house and it had been built fifty years previously, but it was still in a very good condition, beside a new roof and painting it needed very little repair.

We had neighbors on both sides of us but since most of the houses on that street had been built on large estate lots, our neighbors were at least a hundred yards on each side of us. 

In front of us, on the other side of the street there were no houses since the rock ridge was not wide enough on that side of the street for houses to be built there. At the back of the house there was a wood that led to a small road behind our street. We therefore had all the privacy we wanted and were still close enough to the town below us.

To the left of our house lived a couple that had no children. They were the Erickson. Sven Erickson was Swedish by birth and he was thirty, he had already been married to his American wife Alexandra for a couple of years.

Alexandra was about Beth's age but unlike my wife, she had long dark hair and was shorter than Beth. She was very pretty and laughed all the time. As soon as we moved into our new house both women became very good friends. 

Sven and I didn't catch up like the women did, as a matter of fact I found him self centered and very arrogant. Therefore, even though our wives were good friends and were visiting each other all the time, I had to force myself to be nice to Sven. I suppose he didn't appreciated my company more than I did and we only talked to one another on those special occasions when the four of us were eating together in the yard.

I soon learned that Sven's family had move to America when he was a young lad. His father had been in the business of winemaking. Sven was now the owner of his father business and he had a dozen employees working full time for him in a downtown location. He even had four or five brands of wine that were sold in half of the states in the country. In the constant and ideal temperature of his large basement he was always experimenting in making new kinds of wine.

His basement was the perfect place to experiment with wine making. Having been dug in solid rock, it was also connected to a small cave. The temperature and humidity there was ideal for the slow fermentation needed for good wine, it was even perfect for storing it afterward. It was the best wine cellar that one could ask for. 

It must be mention here that deep below some of the houses on the ridge where both of our houses were situated, there were many naturals caves linked with man made tunnels deep below in the rock. These had been used a century earlier to store contraband merchandize. Since the main tunnels had an exit that led to the river, this system had also been used during the prohibition to hide and ship illegal liquors by mean of the river.

Sven's parents had immigrated to America from Sweden and they were both dead now. As for Sven, he was the typical looking Viking type. He was tall with lot of muscles; he kept his blond hair quite long even though it was not in fashion at the time. He also had clear blue eyes and even his voice was deep and powerful. Yes he certainly had that wild look which comes into people's mind when they hear the word 'Viking'.

But I didn't like him at all. He had this egocentric attitude about himself and more than once I watched him looking at my wife in ways that left nothing to the imagination. I even told Beth a few times about this, but it seemed to amuse her and it just made her laugh, she would then ask me if I was really jealous of Sven.

***

We had been living in our new house for a full year now and still Beth was not pregnant. So one day, she suggested that we should both go and see our family doctor so as to check if there was something wrong with either of us.

She got a separate appointment for each of us and when I came home the following Monday, she immediately threw her arms around my neck telling me that she was in perfect health to have babies. She was now eager to know what the doctor would tell me since my appointment was on Friday of the same week.

Well, after answering many questions, the doctor got a sample of my sperm and he examined it through a microscope. I was then shocked to learn that my sperm count was nil, zero. In other word if I should ever become a father it would be a miracle. It seemed that the fever I had had while I was a teen had destroyed my capacity for making those little swimmers that were needed to make babies.

I was devastated; I couldn't even try to imagine how Beth would react to this news. After all she was extremely eager for us to start having children. I then realized that adoption was our only option now. But I was not really keen to do that yet.

Therefore I made up my mind to tell my wife a little lie. I knew that sooner or later I would have to tell her the truth, but I wanted to wait a little before telling her the bad news. So when I got home that day, I told her that there was nothing wrong with me and we should have no problem having children of our own.

* * *

So live moved on and Beth and I continued to fuck like minks. She couldn't get enough of my cock in her cunt and mouth. As soon as I would get home from work she would often insist that we fuck before eating. Even in bed, after we were done having sex, she would insist on keeping my cock in her hand for half the night. 

Beth was insatiable as far as sex was concerned, she never had enough of it and she was always willing and eager to try new things. She often begged me to fuck her in the ass but I just couldn't bring myself to stick my cock in her shit hole. Oral sex, both receiving and giving it was a must for her. Each time that she made me cum with her mouth, she would swallow every drop of my juice, for me it was very exiting to know that she enjoyed the taste of my cum. It then occurred to me that she probably was a nymphomaniac, sex was as important to her as breathing was. But it didn't worry me since I was willing to give her all the fucking she wanted.




The Lockwell's of Virginia



One day, a couple of months after my visit to the doctor, I noticed the first of a series of signs that something was rotten in Denmark or in my case, something was not exactly as it should be with my wife. 

First of all the meals she would prepare for me when I got home each day, were not as elaborate as they used to be. We were now eating a lot more simple things like cold meats and salads. Then I noticed that the house was not spic and span as it used to be a few months previously. 

Of course the house was still clean, but small things like the bed not being nicely made as it had always been and the washing of clothing was not always done on time as it used to be. Even the dishes would often remain in the sink for half the day. Another thing I noticed also was that she was now much more careful with the way she would dress in the house. I couldn't explain those changes at all.

Of course I didn't make too much of a fuss over it. Then a couple of weeks later I got a terrible shock. As soon as I arrived home from work one day, she told me the dreadful news.

She was pregnant. Of course she was expecting me to be overwhelmed with joy as soon as she made that revelation to me. She was extremely exited and all smile when she said this to me, she even threw her arms around my neck and glued her lips to mine expecting me to share her joy.

" Are you happy Vincent? We will finally be a family. You will be a father and I will soon be a mother."

"It's a wonderful surprise Beth, I had almost given up hope on our capacity to have children. I know it mean a lot to you and of course I am very happy."

Deep inside I didn't know what to think yet. There were only two possibilities to her being pregnant, either the sperm test that had been done on me was wrong or my wife was cheating on me.

From that day on, Beth was living in a world of her own. She immediately made plans to remodel one of the many rooms in the house for the coming baby. She also got busy buying clothing for herself and for the baby. 

The first question that I then asked myself was, who was she screwing around with? I spent many sleepless nights trying to figure this out and I always came up with the same answer. She must have been fucking around with our neighbor Sven.

After all she was home all the time and since she didn't have a car yet to drive around, she couldn't go too far from the house. Beside, I knew for a fact that Sven's wife Alexandra, would often visit her cripple mother who lived in Maple Hill about ninety miles away. Every other week she would take the train to spent a couple of days with her mom there. I had already noticed that on those days that his wife was away, Sven would remain home to experiment with his wine making in his basement. It was too much of a coincidence; I figure that he and my wife must have also been experimenting in making a baby together.

But even though she was carrying Sven's baby, she was still being so nice to me, always trying to drag me toward the couch or to our bedroom so that I could fuck her. If that was possible, she was even more willing and eager to have sex with me all the time. Anything I wanted to do with her she would agree and she eagerly participated in doing it. 

Still, I knew that I had a big decision to take. Even thought I loved her very much, I had to decide on what to do. Should I get rid of her immediately or just pretend that nothing was wrong and continue having sex with her for a while longer? After all I had nothing to complain about the tremendous sex we were having. She was giving me as much of it as I wanted and more, I knew that I would never find another woman like her. Beside, she did take good care of the house and me and her cooking, when she put her heart into it, was fantastic. Therefore I took the decision of not rushing things and see what was going to happen.

Beside, if I was to leave her, I needed solid proofs of her affair. There were no DNA tests in those days; therefore I had to come up with solid proofs of their affair. Something like photos or witnesses of her actual cheating with Sven or else use the fact that I was shooting blanks, which was something that I needed to be one hundred percent sure. 

Two weeks later I drove to Richmond on the pretext that I had business there and I had a doctor test my sperm count again. As expected, I was told that I was completely incapable of fathering a baby and the doctor even added that there were no hope whatsoever of that changing ever.

This only confirmed what I already knew. Beth had cuckolded me in the worst possible way; she had let another man impregnate her and she was now planning to let me raise this baby as my own.

***

I was now doing very well as a lawyer; I was also in the process of buying the law firm of which I was a partner only. That left me very little time to think about her cheating as well as to keep an eye on her. A couple of months went by without my being able to catch her in the act of fucking with Sven. I was still devastated by what she had done to me but at the same time my anger had abated a little.

Every time I would get home from work Beth would lift her shirt and partly pull down her skirt -- no well manners housewife would wear slack then -- and she would ask me to pass my hand over her belly to see if I could find any increase in the swelling of her belly compared to the previous day. But one thing she didn't realized was that each and every time I would look at her pregnant form, I would experience all sort of emotions.

First I would feel more anger building deep inside. Here was my loving wife standing in front of me and asking me to feel her pregnant belly that had an other man's baby growing in it while she pretended it was mine. Each time she did that, I couldn't prevent myself from imagining her and Sven together laughing at me and making jokes about me. Then many questions would form in my mind.

Where did they fuck?

How many times each week were they doing it?

Did she find much pleasure each time she was fucking him or had she done it only once so that she could get pregnant?

What did they do exactly together?

Did she beg him to fuck her more often, like she did to me?

What about his cock, was he bigger than me?

Were they still fucking now that he had impregnated her?

While having these thoughts, I would experience a maelstrom of emotions ranging from rage to self-pity and passing through curiosity and love. Yes I still loved her

I soon got the answer to that last question when I came home from my office one day in the middle of the day so as to get documents that I needed. By that time she was in her third month of pregnancy.

The previous year I had had a contractor build an extension to our house over the large garage that was attached to it. I needed a place as a home office and I had it built above the twin garage behind our house and connected to it. My home office had a door leading to the hall of the second story of the house and it also had an entrance with a staircase from inside the garage itself.

On that day, I drove my car into the garage as I usually did. But since it was my intention to leave as soon as I had those documents that I needed, I entered my home office using the staircase inside the garage.

Documents in hand, I was about to leave by the same way I had entered when I heard strange noises coming from the other side of the door leading to the hall of the house.

It then hit me. I already knew that Alexandra had left the previous day to be with her cripple mother. I suddenly realized that what I was hearing was the noise that my cheating wife was making while fucking. At that very moment, she was probably fucking the bastard next door, and doing it in our house.

After depositing the documents that were still in my hands on top of my desk, I quietly opened the door leading to the hall and I went inside. The racket they were making was now much louder and I could clearly distinguish both of their voices. She was begging him to go faster while he kept on grunting like a grizzly in search of food.

As soon as I was half a dozen feet from the first open bedroom door, I knew that they were in that bedroom. I even felt a little relief knowing that they were not in the bedroom that I was sharing with my wife. The door was half opened so I placed myself in such a way so that I could peek inside the room through the vertical crack between the door and the jam.

Beth was naked on her hands and knees in the middle of the bed; he was naked also on his knees behind her, fucking her as if his life depended on it.

It was clear to me as I stood there in shock, that she was used to enjoy his healthy body, this was definitely not the first time they were fucking together. But the thing that struck me the most was his huge cock moving in and out of her dripping cunt. He was definitely bigger than me and in all evidence he was giving her the pleasure of her life with his huge cock.

From where I was, I could see her labia dragging along his shaft each time he would pull out of her cheating hole. It was as if her labia was trying to hold their prize until just the head remained inside, then his glistering flesh shaft would plunge forward again to disappear completely into her love channel. Each of their move was also accompanies by strange noises made by their respective mouth.

Time seemed to stand still and without my being aware of it, my anger and disappointment partly changed to curiosity and lust, and then before I knew it, my cock was as stiff as a post. It suddenly occurred to me that I was getting some pleasure watching my wife and her lover fucking. After a while I noticed his ass cheeks contracting, his strokes got sporadic and longer as he tried to shove deeper into her cunt. At that very moment, I knew that he was in the process of depositing his seed within my wife. 

All of a sudden, I heard a very familiar noise. A noise that sounded like a loud mewling coming from her mouth and throat. I then understood that she was also in the grip of a very strong orgasm. 

Finally the crisis ended with a load grunt coming from his mouth as his penis disappeared into her depth one last time, he then remained deeply imbedded inside her for long seconds. Beth was the first to speak after a while. They were both still motionless, each enjoying to the utmost the post orgasm pleasure of their copulation.

"Oh god, you feels so good inside me...I feel so stretched, so full..." she gasped, looking over her shoulder at him, "you're so much bigger than my husband..." 

I was beyond shock. Even though I knew she was cheating on me, seeing her actually having sex with someone else and listening to her talk about me while fucking was quite an experience. My anger was coming to the surface again. My instinct was telling me to rush into the room and pull them apart. For a few minutes I felt like killing both of them, but then I realized that doing this was certainly going to destroy my life as well. 

Instead, I quietly walked back into my home office and sat behind my desk thinking about what I had just witnessed. 

I knew that I had an important decision to make. Should I go into the room and stop them? Or should I simply leave the house and pretend nothing had happened?

But before I could make up my mind, a couple of minutes later I found myself standing in the hall once again watching what they were doing.

She was now stretched on her back on top of the bed and they were fucking in the missionary position with her feet locked behind his back.

I watched for long minutes, transfixed as their exertions built to a crescendo. Suddenly, after ten or fifteen minutes, he groaned loudly and thrust hard into her, his hips tensing, his face a grimace as he came into my wife again. She cried out and thrust to meet him, digging her fingers deep into the flesh of his hips, pulling him hard against her as she came with him. They stayed paralyzed in their climaxes for what seemed like an eternity. He kept on slowly pumping into her until his cum oozed out of her, spilling onto the cover of the bed; she clasped him still tighter, rocking her hips slightly as though trying to milk every last drop from him. 

Later they collapsed together, he on top of and still inside her; she wrapped her arms around him, holding and nuzzling him as they drifted off to sleep. I had seen more than enough and I quietly left the house.

When I got back home after work that day, Beth was even nicer to me than she used to be. After handling me my slippers she gave me my usual glass of wine and she tried to cuddle close to me as I sat on the couch. But I wouldn't have any of it since in my mind I still had the pictures of her recent fuck with Sven. I was still not sure how I would react when we went to bed for the night. The constant thoughts of her recent cheating, which made a cuckold of me, keep feeding a maelstrom of emotions in me. A spectrum of emotions that went from making my cock twitch to rage and a need to seek revenge on her and her lover, even killing them both.

By the time we went to bed that evening I was in no mood to cuddle against her and I suppose Beth did notice this and she didn't try very hard to get me to have sex with her. But the following morning I was awaken with her wet mouth sucking my cock and even the picture of her recent cheating didn't prevent me from paying tribute to her mouth. She swallowed every drop of my pleasure; she even licked my cock clean afterward. Then she looked at me with a smile and kissed me. Everything had happened so fast that I had been unable to prevent her from doing it.

I could tell by her broad smile when she looked at me that she felt like she had won a battle. She had made me enjoy her mouth around my cock even though the previous evening I had not been up to having sex with her.

During the next few days I still felt depressed. I didn't know what to do. Should I throw her out and create a scandal or should I just pretend I was ignorant of her affair? I must mention here that in those days, it was very uncommon for a man to leave his wife. A man divorcing his spouse wasn't something that people accepted very well since it was looked upon as a failure on both partners in a marriage. I knew that my business would also suffer greatly if I got rid of Beth. 

On the other hand I had a lot of difficulties to convince myself that Beth still loved me. Of course she was always ready and even eager to have sex with me, and she took good care of me and was a very good housekeeper, but did she still love me now that she was fucking Sven? She probably did, but at the same time I knew that I wasn't the only man in her life and in her heart. I was now a cuckold and her respect for me was probably less than before, even if she though I was ignorant of her affair. But there was nothing I could do now to change what she I done, either I accepted that fact and lived with it, or get rid of her.

Like water flowing down a slope, I took the path of least resistance and I did nothing about her affair with Sven. I simply pretended that I was completely ignorant of her cheating. 

Less than a week after I had watched them fuck, I was again having sex with her. Her constant coaxing and her eager mouth on my cock every morning was too much for me. I finally gave in and I began fucking her again. But I no longer make love to her now. I was fucking her like the slut she was. It was rough sex and I did it mostly to satisfy my need. But much to my surprise, Beth was greatly enjoying the rough sex we were now having; she was still trying to coax me for more all the time.

Gradually, she began to show more signs of her pregnancy. Every chances she had, she would still show me her swollen belly and ask me to stroke it. Deep inside, I had the feeling that it was making her feel good to be constantly reminding me of her condition. She was probably relishing on the fact that I was not the one responsible for her condition and knowing that I was completely ignorant about the real fatherhood of her baby was probably exiting to her. 

Every time I watched her move in the house, even though I knew she was unaware that I was staring at her, I felt a surge of anger deep inside, I would then see in my mind those images of her fucking with Sven. But at the same time, even if at first I didn't want to admit this, I would feel my cock twitching in my pants and for some reason that I couldn't explain to myself, I still had a strong desire to watch them fuck again.

***

So life continued, Beth did carry her pregnancy to term and she gave birth to a beautiful boy that we named Tom. I could tell that she was very proud and extremely happy after the birth of Tom. She took good care of him and our sex life did pick up not long after the birth of her son. She was constantly begging me to fuck her and that even before the doctor had told her she could start doing it again.

A few months after the birth of Tom, I still wasn't sure if she was still carrying on her affair with Sven. But one day, barely three months after the birth of Tom, I got the answer to that question when she told me that she pregnant again. Thus I knew that she and Sven were still at it.

Strange as it might seem, the thing that surprise me the most was my complete indifference to her new pregnancy. It was as if she had said to me that she had bought a new hat. 

For one thing I did love Tom very much and by then I was actually considering him as my own son. I told myself, 'why should I feel bad about her having sex with Sven'? After all, she was still the loving wife I had married and she was always willing and eager to satisfy all of my sexual needs'.

Beside she had given me a son that I wouldn't have been able to have otherwise and no one beside her and Sven knew about the true paternity of my son. So I just kept quiet about her affair and life went on as usual.

By the time she gave birth to her daughter, whom we called Anna in honor of my mother, I had completely accept the fact that I was not the biological father of my children and that my wife was cheating on me on a regular basis. Strange as it might appear, I was even looking forward to watch her again with her lover.

One thing I must say here though. Had I been aware that people knew that I knew that Beth was cheating on me, it would have been a completely different matter. I would never have accepted for people to look at me either with sadness or a smirk on their face, knowing something about me that they thought I knew nothing about. In other words, I certainly didn't want anyone to know that my wife was cuckolding me with the neighbor.

A few months after the birth of Anna, I did get to watch her fuck again. As a matter of fact, on that day Sven probably impregnated her with her third child.

It was a Tuesday and I knew that Alexandra had left to visit her mother the previous day so it met that Sven would be in his house all by himself. I had noticed the previous day that Beth had dusted and clean the spare bedroom that she used when she was fucking with Sven. So I figured that the following afternoon, while Tom and Anna were sleeping in their respective room, she and her lover would be at it again.

That afternoon I parked my car on the dirt road behind my house and I walked to the back of my house going through that small wood at the back. I then went into the garage and climbed the stair inside to my home office.

As soon as I opened the door leading to the hall of my house I heard the noises of their fucking. The bedroom door was wide opened -- she probably wanted to listen in case one of the children got awake -- as soon as I looked into the room I saw my cheating wife and Sven.

Beth was on her back and he was on top of her, holding himself up with his arms, and slowly thrusting in and out of her. She soon proceeded to push with the flat of her feet against the mattress as she shoved back to meet him, biting her lips and shaking her head. He was plunging in and out of her with a slow stroke.




The Lockwell's of Virginia



After ten minutes of this she began to groan as his penis kept disappearing deep into her. 

"Oh god, you feels so good inside me...It feel so good, so full..." she gasped, lifting her head and looking at him, "it goes so deep inside me, I do wish we could do this more often" 

With that, he eased off her until just the head of his penis was hidden in her cheating cunt, then grunting like a pig in heat, he would plunge down into her depth again and again.

That soon started her mewing, building to an orgasm as they wildly thrust at each other, their bodies glistening from the sweat of their exertions. Suddenly I watched her pushing herself forward onto him, wailing, crying out with an anguish cry as they both experienced a strong orgasm together. After it was over, her arms went around his back holding him in a tight embrace. 

"Oh God, I think you just started a baby in me again," she said after sharing a passionate kiss with him.

"I certainly hope so," he answered, still out of breath from the exertion of his bouts of fucking and the long kiss they had shared together.

"Let us pray that my husband never find out that you are the father of all my children."

"Well he must be a fool not to have notice how much like me they look. Even a fool can see they don't look like him at all."

"I forbid you to say that Vincent is a fool. He is good man and a splendid father also."

"He is a cuckold and he is shooting blank. You had to go and find a real man like me to get pregnant."

Before she could answer he glued his lips on her once more and they proceeded to kiss. Later he sucked on her large breasts for a few minutes feasting on her milk she still had after giving birth to Anna.

I was shocked to discover that Beth hadn't reacted more to his last comment about me. It did hurt me to discover that she didn't appreciate me more than that. Of course I had always known that she wanted very much to have babies, but to discover her lack of protest when Sven was degrading me like that was quite a blow to me.

Even after the long fuck they just had, Beth was hardly satiated, and as she relaxed her grasp around his back they resumed grinding their body against each other and gradually they began to fuck again, slowly at first. Soon, though, his strong shoving resumed, working the semen that leaked from her depth around his penis to a milky froth. For the next fifteen minutes they continued fucking and she had another strong orgasm.

All of a sudden he got off Beth, he then got on his back and she began riding him. After a while I saw his cum coating the outside of their joined sex organ with frothy white foam at the base of his penis. Still she kept on riding him, moaning and squealing. I was astonished at how long this was going on. Neither seemed to be tiring, Sven's penis was still as hard as it had been earlier. They were both glistening with sweat and the smell of sex filled the room while their groans and moans echoed off the walls. I was very hard and wanted to cum so badly but I also wanted to watch them cum again as well.

Just when I thought they were never going to end, she suddenly started to scream and pushed down on him.

"Oh, god! I'm cumming," she squealed, grinding her hips. 

At the same time Sven tensed then pushed hard into her again. I watched the base of his penis, as it pulsated while his balls contracted, at that instant they began kissing passionately. Later she collapsed against his chest, mewing as they hugged while he gently stroked her back and sides as they lay there to finally fall asleep. 

For some reason that I can't even begin to explain, Beth's liaison with Sven was no longer affecting me as it should. For one thing I was still getting all the sex that I could handle from my wife and I could tell that she really cared about me and, yes I knew she still loved me. Beside, by then I was use to her cheating and the fact that the fruits of her cheating were the birth of my children that I loved so very much was attenuating the fact that I was a cuckold. 

Yes, she had given me children that I would never have been able to have if she hadn't been cheating on me. I loved my children like a caring father did, even though she was now at the beginning of her third pregnancy. I was even eager to be able to hold her next child in my arms.

I know that some might consider me a wimp and a looser, but believe me I am none of these. I was simply making the best of my handicap. Yes my non-existing sperm count was a fact that I had to live with and accept, I was painfully aware of that. Since it was impossible for me to be a biological father, I realized that I had to make the best of my situation and thus accept her cheating as the price to pay to have my children. Yes they were my children.

By cheating on me and getting pregnant in the process, Beth had found a way for me to show the rest of the world that I was a normal married man with a family and children of my own. No one except her and Sven knew that I wasn't the biological father of my children, more important to me still was the fact that she thought I was completely ignorant of this. I strongly hoped that this secret would always remain so since I would have to react strongly if anyone discovered the reel paternity of my children. 

I was now accepting what she had done to me even though I didn't approve of it. She was still having sex regularly with Sven and it no longer bothered me as it used to at the beginning of her affair. After all she had needs, which I couldn't satisfy completely. Since they thought their cheating was a secret, I still could face both and look at them in the eyes without flinching. Yes every one was getting something out of their affair. I was getting a family while Beth was getting all the sex she needed and more important still, she was now a mother. Of course Sven was enjoying great sex with her so he had nothing to complain about. 

***

Events unfolded and time moved on until I gradually found myself the father of six children, three boys and three girls. My wife had now been carrying on her affair with Sven for well over ten years. By the time Beth gave birth to her sixth baby, I was 36 and she was 34. 

When Alexandra's mother died the previous year, Sven's wife no longer had any reason to leave her husband for a couple of days every two weeks. Even though Beth and Sven had stopped fucking in our house after Beth gave birth to her third child, this didn't stop the dynamic duo from carrying on their activities. As a matter of fact I knew that they were together more often now.

We now had a nanny to help Beth with the children and a housemaid to cook and do house work. Being the resourceful man he was and unknown to his wife, Sven had rented an apartment in town so that Beth could meet him there twice a week, mostly in the afternoon while I was working at my office. Of course, by then she had her own car and it was relatively easy for her to join her lover during the day while the nanny was back home looking after the children that weren't old enough yet to attend school.

Alexandra and Sven still had no children of their own due to a woman problem she had and since she didn't drive a car, Sven felt very safe fucking Beth in the apartment.

It took Beth many hours and she had much pain when she gave birth to her sixth baby; her doctor told us later that it would be very dangerous for her to have another child. Of course by that time I figured that our family was large enough and I agreed with the doctor to stop making babies. I told him that we would take precautions so that she wouldn't get pregnant again until she was well enough to have an operation so as to prevent her from getting pregnant again. 

But after discussing this matter at home, I realized that it wasn't in Beth intention to stop having children. She insisted that she was feeling find and she knew that her body was still healthy and fit to have at least one more baby.

I knew that Sven, being the egoistic ass hole he was, wouldn't care one iota for Beth safety and he was probably going to continue to fuck her eager hole without protection until she got pregnant with his baby once again. 

I had to do something fast to prevent this. The only way I could see to stop her was to let them know I was aware of their affair and thus forcing them to stop fucking. But by doing this I had to admit to them and probably to everyone that I was not the biological father of my children. This was going to imply that all those years I was aware they had been cuckolding me. It was not an acceptable option for me and yet I couldn't see any other way out of that dilemma. 

The more I thought about the whole mess, the less I could figure a way out of it. Having to admit that from the beginning I was aware of her cheating with Sven and worse still, letting my wife know that I already knew that I was not the biological father of my children was killing me. 

During that first week once Beth got back from the hospital after giving birth to her daughter, I couldn't sleep more than two or three hours per night.

Of course she hadn't begun fucking with Sven yet but it was only a question of days. It was plain to me that she wasn't going to wait the full forty days that the doctor had recommended before having sex again with Sven. She was already sucking my cock every night and I could tell that it wouldn't be long before she started begging me to have complete sex with her, forty days or not. Then the minute she was going to realize that I wasn't prepare to have intercourse with her until the forty days were over, I knew she was going to start meeting Sven again. Knowing him like I did, I figured he wouldn't mind one bit impregnating her once again, even though it could be very dangerous for her.

Therefore it was the knowledge of that danger that forced me to take action. I told myself that since I had to make a choice between Beth and Sven, I was going to choose Beth since she was my wife - in name at least - beside I had to think of the children. Therefore, on that day I made up my mind that Sven had to go.

On the day I bought my house, almost twelve years previously, I had been shocked to discover that the basement of the house was part of a tunnel that also went under a few other houses on that street. The tunnel went toward the river situated a few miles away and the ridge where the houses had been built contained a network of caves joined by this manmade tunnel. 

Of course the first thing I did at the time I bought the house was to check if both end of the tunnel were sealed. On one side, it went about fifty feet where the roof caved in and was blocking it completely, so there was no problem at that end. But on the other side, the side leading toward Sven's house, it went for over two hundred feet until a thick oak door, which was still in good condition, was blocking the passage. There was also a small pile of rocks that had fallen from the ceiling in front of the door and this prevented the door from opening. I knew I had nothing to fear from anyone getting into my house by mean of the tunnel. 

The tunnel was quite deep under the house and there were two staircases leading down to it. The first one was made of wood and it led to the basement of the house. From there, the other set of stairs had been carved into the rock and went about twenty feet deeper giving access to the tunnel itself.

I had never tried before to open the thick oak door. For one thing it was locked with a huge padlock, then even if it could be forced open after all those years, the pile of rocks blocking it was enough to discourage anyone from trying. But now, since I needed a way to get into Sven's basement without being seen, I was curious to see if the passage on the other side of the door would lead me to his wine cellar. 

After cutting the old padlock with a saw and then with much squeaking from the hinges, I managed to force the thick door open a couple of inches using a metal bar until I felt a draft of air. Then after long hours of piling rocks on both sides of the wall I was ready to enter the other side. Holding a flashlight in hand, I managed to squeeze myself through the opening of the partly opened door. 

As expected, after walking less than a hundred yards, I found myself standing behind a tall wooden rack loaded with wine bottles. I knew that I was in Sven's wine cellar. With much effort, I was able to squeeze myself between the rack and the wall until I stood in the middle of Sven's wine cellar. Of course I had already been there a few times with him and I already knew the layout. There were thousands of bottles of assorted wine all neatly stored on racks, at the far end of the cellar there were a couple dozens of wooden barrels full of wine and in the process of aging. 

I now knew that I had a way to get into his basement without being seen and before returning back, I took a bottle of his best wine with me.

What I intended to do was simple. I knew that he had a couple of batches of experimental wine already fermenting in the upper part of his basement. Soon he was going to move the five gallons glass containers into the lower basement for their secondary fermentation since the temperature there was more appropriate to the slow fermentation. It was my intention to place a thin coating of grease on the second or third step carved in the rock so that it would make him slip while he was carrying the first glass container. I was pretty sure that the fall was going to be fatal to him. For one thing, the five gallons container was certainly going to break during the fall and if the broken glass didn't do away with him, then the fall on the hard rock floor below was going to take care of his cheating ass.

I knew that his wife Alexandra never went in the lower basement of their house, she was afraid of going down there. 

The following day I returned to Sven's basement and I spread a very thin layer of cooking grease over the third step from the top. When I was done, I took another bottle of wine from one of the racks and I went back to my house to enjoy it.

Of course it was very important that I should be the first one to find Sven's body after his fall since I had to remove all traces of the grease on the step before anyone should go in his basement. 

The following two days I remained home working in my home office and mostly watching Sven's house. As soon as he would arrive home I would go in the tunnel and wait. On the second day I saw him drive home at four in the afternoon and I knew that he was going to be checking his wine before eating supper. He always did this when he got home early.

I was standing with my ear pressed against the closed tunnel door when I faintly heard the noise of broken glass from the other side. I already had with me everything ready to clean the grease. I even had a few handfuls of dust and dirt in a can so as to sprinkle some of it on the third step once it had been cleaned.

When I entered into Sven's wine cave using the tunnel, I saw him stretched on his belly with his face in a puddle of wine and blood. His eyes were wide opened and I could tell that he was dead.

After carefully removing all traces of grease from the slippery step and spreading a little dirt on it and on the rest of the steps, I then checked for marks of grease on the rest of the rock staircase. I even wiped Sven shoes clean before going back to my own basement. Once I had moved back the small pile of rocks in front of the oak door on my side, I finally locked it with an old lock I already had for that purpose.

It wasn't until early evening that a hysterical and crying Alexandra came running to our house. It took her long minutes before my wife and I were able to get her to tell us that she had found her husband on the floor in the lower basement lying in a large puddle of blood.

I immediately went to check from the top of the stair and I called the police. A couple of hours later his body was removed and his death was declared an accident.

Alexandra and especially my wife were devastated by the death of Sven. But deep inside I felt good. For one thing he had made a fool of me for all those years and he had fathered all of my six children thinking I was ignorant of that fact. All that time he must have secretly been laughing at me for raising his children. No I wasn't sorry at all that he was dead. He had been fucking my wife behind my back for many years, I even had heard him saying nasty things about me when he was with my wife.

Beside it was a choice I had to make, it was either his life or Beth's life. Beside it was only fair that he should be paying with his life for what he had done to me. Far from being sorry for being responsible for his death, I felt a sort of deliverance now that he was no longer around.

Of course Beth didn't get pregnant again but she was in shock and sad for well over six months after Sven death. I knew that she missed her fuck body very much, but less than a year after her lover's death; she was diagnosed with cervix cancer. Had Sven oversize cock responsible for her cancer? When he was fucking her, was he pushing his cock in place within her that weren't supposed to be touched? I will never know, but when her cancer was detected it was already too late for her and six months after her diagnostic she passed away. 

By then my youngest child (a daughter) was not yet three years old and my eldest, my son Tom, had turned fourteen the previous month. I had six children in the house with me and everyone truly believed them to be my own since I was the only one alive that knew the truth about the real father of my children. It now felt as if a tremendous weight had been lifted off my shoulders since I no longer feared that the truth would suddenly be exposed to everyone. 

Either out of pity on my family and me or because she was lonely at home with her husband no longer there, Alexandra soon took to visit us a couple times per day. I didn't care what was her reason, but having her looking after the kids and talking to me in the evening was a blessing for the whole family. Gradually she got to spend more and more time with us and after a couple of months she would go to her house only to sleep at night. Of course the nanny and the maid were still there to help, but Alexandra was slowly beginning to take the place of Beth in the eyes of the children. 

Then one Saturday evening, leaving the children in the care of the nanny, I took her out to dinner in a restaurant in town and afterward we went dancing. Of course what was bound to happen did happen and I kissed her while still in my car before getting back home. Soon we were both looking forward to be kissing each other whenever we could at home and a month after that we were having sex together.

She was nothing like Beth used to be. For one thing she was very tight and where Beth was eager and wild in bed, Alexandra was effectuate and very gentle. Each time she had a climax it went on and on for long minutes and afterward she would beg me to remain in her while she kissed and hugged me for a long time. 

After a few months we both knew that we were in love with one another and less than a year after the death of my wife I asked her to marry me. 

We had a wonderful life together. She was the perfect wife to me and by the time the last of my children left the nest and was attending university, Alexandra and I were still much in love and we were very rich. Two of my children were now working with me in my law firm and even Alexandra's winery in town, which she had inherited from her cheating husband, was making a lot of money, we now had over fifty people working for us there.

Now this brings me to the present. Alexandra died in her sleep last year, she was 85 and I know she had a very happy life with me. Now it's my turn to join her and this is why I am now anxious to leave this world. I had a good live even considering the fact that my children aren't mine, but once I will be dead, no one will ever know this and my secret will be lost forever like is should be. Everyone around here knows about the Lockwell's of Virginia and I know that I have definitely left my mark on this world.