0 comments/ 37839 views/ 2 favorites The Fan By: marriedhehore The anticipation was driving me wild. After talking on the net for the past 6 or 7 months, we were finally going to meet. I ran through the house one final time to make sure that I had everything just perfect, the swing connected properly, the candles in place, the music in the stereo, etc. I’d never met such a small woman before, so I was really looking forward to this, especially since she seemed so damned sexy whenever we spoke. Even though I was extremely excited, I wanted everything just perfect, I didn't want to disappoint her in any way. After the 3rd or 4th time of circling around the house, the doorbell rang. I opened the door to see one of the prettiest, shortest women I have ever met. She was dressed in a tight halter-top, her perfectly shaped breasts jutting out noticeably, her nipples straining the fabric, her short but gorgeous legs reaching below a tight miniskirt. She looked a little nervous as I invited her in, so I took her into the living room and offered her a glass of wine to calm her nerves. We sat on the couch for a while, making small talk, listening to some soft music on the stereo. I started with touching her hair, long, soft, silky in my hand. She smelled slightly of strawberries, my favorite scent as well as food. I gazed into her eyes as I leaned forward, interrupting her by softly kissing her on the lips. She froze at first, startled, then kissed me back, her tongue dueling with mine. We explore each other for a few minutes, running our hands over the other's body, my excitement showing plainly through my shorts. After a few minutes of tasting each other, I stood up, took her hand, then guided her into the dining room where I had the swing hanging from the ceiling fan over my dining table. As we kissed, I picked her up and set her on the table, feeling her breasts through her top, her nipples hardening under my touch as she felt my throbbing tool, squeezing and stroking it gently. I pulled her top off, her firm mounds perfectly shaped, then bent over her, making her gasp aloud as I took first one, then the other into my mouth, her nips swelling even more under my tongue as I took her skirt down, feeling her core beneath her lace panties, her legs parting when my fingers slipped inside, feeling her walls grab me. I stood up for a moment, gazing at this small bundle of excitement, her eyes glassy with desire. I pulled her to the edge of the table, then kneeling down with her legs over my shoulder, gently spread her folds, gazing at a perfect treasure, her button nearly dancing under my watchful gaze. I lightly circled her near hairless mound, her moans of pleasure growing as I gently took her throbbing clit between my teeth, flicking it with the tip of my tongue. She yelled out as I slipped a finger deep inside, her walls grabbing tightly, her cries getting louder as I pumped a little faster, tasting her sweet juices running down my chin, her lags clamping around my head, her hands guiding my face to where it was most needed as she screamed with her first climax. I stood back up, as she watched with her body still quivering with release, took off my shirt, then freed my swollen pride from it's confines. I then picked her up, kissed her hard, our tongues tangling, and slowly impaled her on my hard shaft, her legs clamping around my waist as her slick tunnel milked my throbbing cock. I then pulled her off, stood her up on the table, and helped her into the special swing I had prepared just for her. It hang from the ceiling fan over the table, and needed only a few adjustments. I then grabbed a remote control, scooted underneath her, lifted her up, and dropped her onto my tool, forcibly entering her tight box, causing her to yell out as I sank to the hilt. After giving her a moment to catch her breath, I hit a button on the remote, turning the fan on it's lowest speed. She held onto the swing for all she was worth, moaning in pleasure as her quivering twat spun around on my cock while I thrust into her. I turned the fan up a notch, her cries getting louder, my prick swelling even more. Suddenly she tensed up, I could feel her cumming through her box spinning on my tool, her moans becoming screams of pleasure. I turned off the fan, helped her off the swing, laid her back on the table, then directed my manhood towards her mouth. She took me as deep as she could, working her mouth and hands as I could feel myself getting closer to the brink, my balls rumbling, my cock getting harder. I pulled out just as I started spraying all over the table, getting some of my hot sauce on her lips which she licked off. Kissing her deeply as I picked her up off the table, I carried her to the bathroom, a plethora of scented candles surrounding the large tub. I put her on the mat, giving her a quick kiss, then ran the water, adding some bubble bath as well as lightly scented oils to the hot water. As the tub was filling, I turned on the jets, bubbles filling the air. I picked her back up, gently sat her in the tub, and sat on the edge. Grabbing a soft sponge, I started gently cleansing her soft skin, marveling at the beauty before me, her long soft hair floating in the bubbly water. Her eyes closed, lips slightly parted, she moaned softly as I soaped her twin treasures, her nipples swelling in my hands. I slid down behind her, turned off the water, then faced her toward the jets, spreading her legs. She gasped, feeling the current against her throbbing core, my hands gently caressing her body with quiet intimacy. I then placed her legs over the side of the tub, scooting her closer to the jet, kissing and nibbling her neck, licking behind her ears, turning her face towards mine to taste her sweet breath. Her excitement growing, she started bucking her hips as I spread her folds, placing the full force of the current against her quivering opening, her cries growing louder with pleasure. She yelled into my mouth with the force of her peak, her legs clamping around my hand, her arms around my neck, her tongue dueling with mine. After she calmed, I got out of the tub, grabbed a soft towel, helped her out of the tub, then gently began drying her precious body, kissing her in her most sensitive areas. After she was dry, I held her close, smelling her natural perfume under the scented oils, my manhood betraying my want. I picked her up as we kissed, then entered her slowly as I started carrying her toward the kitchen, her slick walls grabbing me with each step. I sat her on the kitchen table amidst the dinner I had prepared. She cried out dejectedly as I pulled out from her moist, soothing heat. I laid her back down on the table, calming her with a touch. I stood at the head of the table, picked up a bottle, and placed a few drops of dark brown syrup upon her swollen breasts, smearing the chocolate with my fingers, her breathing getting rapid. I bent over her, licking the sweet stuff off, gasping as she took me into her mouth. I poured some of the syrup onto her glistening slit, pulling her legs up under my arms, barely able to contain myself as she took me even deeper into her throat, my tool swelling under her touch. She grunted as I leaned down, tasting her juices mingling with the chocolate, her body starting to shake. I pulled away from her, moving around to the end of the table, sitting in a chair before her precious offering of a feast, placing her feet on my shoulders as I reached over grabbing a bowl. I pulled out a bunch of grapes, plucking a few of the plumpest, firm fruits, I slid them insider her moist opening, causing her to gasp aloud as I bent down, sliding my tongue deep inside, feeling and tasting the sweet fruit mingling with her own sweet flavor. She cried out as I sucked the fruit out, greedily swallowing as she bucked her hips against my face. I looked up to see her glazed eyes watching me, her hands kneading her breasts. I reached back into the bowl, pulling out a large strawberry, dipping it into a bowl of chocolate, then offering it to her slightly opened lips, letting her take a small bite before I inserted the red treat into her quivering hole. She reached down, spreading her lips for me as I licked all around her throbbing, swollen clit, crying out as I once more placed my mouth against her opening, sucking at the treasure I had put there only moments before. I reached for the last time into the bowl, pulling out a large, peeled banana. She still held herself open for me, occasionally rubbing her button, her hips thrusting as I placed the pale fruit at her core, slowly sliding it deep until just the tip showed. She yelled out, grabbing my head as I took her gently between my teeth, flicking her clit with my tongue, then literally screamed as I started sucking the banana back out one bite at a time, the juices flowing down my chin, her legs clamped around my head as she hit her peak once more. Scooting my chair back, I pulled her of the table, then carefully sat her in my lap, impaling her on my rigidity, her slick walls milking my tool like a machine as she rode me, slowly at first, then with increasing tempo, harder, deeper, our mouths pressed against one another, our tongue tangling, tingling with the building excitement, her voice muffled into my mouth as she bounced even harder, my cock going deeper, swelling with each thrust, her hard nipples rubbing against my chest, her throbbing clit against the base of my prick, our voices uniting with the moment of our climax as I shot my own juice deep inside... The Fan With the book clutched in my hand I slowly approached the cue. I had the nervous fluttering of a thousand butterflies in my stomach. I pulled my trench coat tight around me, as I shuffled with the line of people waiting to me the author. As I slowly approached to the front of the line, closer and closer to the reality of it all, I caught a glimpse of the profile, the hair the eyes that I knew so well. Soon I was next... I almost could not stand it, I was ready to just turn around and run, the woman in front of me spoke to him, a mile a minute, my nerves were at their peak, oh god what am I doing? As the talker left, clutching her book to her breast, I took my place in front of the small table at which he sat. I placed the book down and smiled. "Who do I..." but he stopped there. Our eyes met for the first time. I saw recognition, disbelief, a hint of fear, and anticipation. I saw his handshake as he took the pen and signed the book, "Hello," he whispered, "wait in the store, I only have a few minutes left with this." As he handed me back my book our fingers brushed each other sending a thrilling jolt through me, I could tell he felt it too. I walked around the store, for what felt like hours though it was only minutes. I did not go to far from where he was sitting, I watched as he signed more books, and watched as he sent me nervous and longing glances at me. My heart was racing, my palms were wet and my legs were weak. I watched as he got up from his chair and stretched, he glanced at me again and raised a finger to tell me very soon it would be time to go. I wondered around some more, glancing at a few of his books I already had on my shelf. I was lost in a passage when I felt his strong arms reach around me and pulled me against him, "I hoped you would show up, "he whispered in my ear, his hot breath on the back of my neck causing chills to race up my spine, "but we cannot be seen here, together." His celebrity status now gave him nor privacy, and we did not want either of us to be caught. He slipped a piece of paper into my pocket, he let it linger there for a moment, as he stroked the material against my thigh. I sighed in anticipation and immediately started to grow damp. With that he left the store, with his people close behind him. I watched as he got into his limo and drove off. I walked back to my car and unfolded the paper. The name of the hotel and directions and the room number was written on it. I climbed into my car and drove to the location before i could change my mind. I could still feel his lips against my ear and almost shattered at that moment. I am not sure how I got to the hotel in one piece. I got in the elevator and rode up to the suite he had reserved for the evening. I paused at the door, nerves racing though me like I had never experienced before. I tentatively knocked. The door swung open. He stood there staring at me, he took my hand and led me into the luxurious room. He had roses and chilled champagne waiting. He expertly filled my glass his eyes never leaving me. I stood there in awe, not sure what to do at this point, With nervous hands I un did the belt to my coat and let it slide to the floor in a puddle. I watched his eyes take me in, I was wearing a short skirt and a simple lace bra. The tops of my stockings were visible at the hem line of the skirt. His eyes became wide in lust and desire. He handed me a glass and then lightly touched my lips with his. He then brushed his thumb over my lips, down my throat to the lace of the bra. He skimmed his fingers over my nipples. I felt my breasts grow tight and achy and again I sighed. With his tongue he traced my jaw line, then down my neck and throat, gently nipping as he did so, his fingers teasing my nipples through the lace until they started to harden. Then he moved away from me and picked up a rose. We crossed the floor back to where I was waiting and found my mouth with his yet again, this time a little more demanding as he used his tongue to push my mouth open wider, He pulled me to him and caressed my back with the rose's petals. I felt him harden through the material of his slacks. I felt the rose fall to the floor and his fingers quickly undid the clasp of the bra, freeing me from its lacy confines. "I dropped something," was all he whispered in my ear. I stepped back a step, and turned to find the rose on the floor and bent down at the waste to retrieve it. As I did my skirt rode up showing him I remembered his fantasy, for I wore nothing under it. I heard him moan in delight. I turned my head and watched him admire my ass, as he clutched himself. He took only a few steps and I felt his finger tips trace my ass, he was as nervous as I was as he squeezed tentatively on my cheek and bent down to get a closer view. I gasped as he placed his fingers along my folds, I started to gently rick against his hand, my ache and need building, he felt me as I started to grow damp again, "Not yet," he whispered, and he withdrew his hand, sniffed my juices then licked his fingers clean. He stood me up again, my back crushed along his hardened body, kissing my neck and caressing my breasts, then lower to my soft belly, He brushed over my skirt and again her pressed his hand against my heat, the material of my skirt was starting to cling to the wetness he had caused. He brushed the tops of my thigh highs and back up my thigh. Then he twirled me around so my sensitive nipples could brush against the texture of his shirt. His hand then trailed down my bare back again, down the back of my skirt. He hiked it up then a bit as he cupped my cheeks in his hands and squeezed tightly, his fingers brushing against my clit, causing ripples of pain and pleasure. He then lifted me up and I wrapped my legs around his waste as he took me to the bedroom. He dropped me on the large bed causing my breasts to jiggle. He placed his leg between mine, I could feel his erection straining through his pants, begging to be released I reached down but he grabbed my wrist and shook his head no., He rolled me over onto my stomach and gently lifted the skirt. He slowly caressed my ass until his fingers could touch my hot core. Slowly he started to rub my clit between his fingers, causing my madness to increase, I moaned in pleasure. Still squeezing my ass with his free hand he bent his head and tasted me He deepened that intimate kiss and I felt his tongue slide in and out of my folds, As if her were savoring a delicious treat. He then shifts his fingers again and thrusts two fingers in to me, sliding in and out in a rhythm that drove me wild. I felt his hand leave my ass and reappear with something in it, the cork from the champagne. He took the cork and added it to the moist heat he was causing. I pushed back on it in pleasure. He coated it with my juices and then slipped it back along the crease of my ass, where he tenderly slid it inside a bit, he placed his tongue back in side me and finding a rhythm pleasured me both ways, I panted out his name as I came in a gush over his face. He pulled away smiling with my juices dripping off his chin. I pulled myself up and licked it off, making sure I go every last drop. I then saw him look over a suitcase on the table. I walked over to it and inside here was an array of handcuffs and vibrators and lotions. I took out two sets of the handcuffs, placing the key on the bedside table. I took him by the wrists and cuffed him onto the headboard. I climbed on top of him, unbuttoning his shirt as I gazed into his eyes, skimming my nails slowly down the exposed flesh as I went, then following the pink scratches I made with my tongue. I slowly undid his pants and lightly tugged them off, licking and nibbling the exposed flesh. I smiled at his glorious hard cock before me as I playfully licked the tip like an ice cream, before I took him whole in my mouth . I watched as his eyes rolled back in his head. Slowly I crept up him again, inching my way up, teasing his flesh with mine, until I found his lips. Our tongues darted around, exploring and tasting each other. I nibbled along his jaw line and neck and playfully tugged his ear with my teeth. I then pulled away and walked back over to the suitcase and withdrew a small bullet shaped vibrator. I then stood over him, my feet firmly planted on either side of his hips and turned it on, I watched him watch me tease my clit with it as I slowly bent my knees down until I felt the head of his hard cock demanding entrance. I slowly slid myself over the head and hear his sharp intake of air as I only allowed the tip entry as I continued to pleasure myself. Again I lowered only slightly, allowing the sensation of my body yielding to him. Again I lowed myself, but he could not wait any more and thrust his hips up and impaled me. I felt my body stretch, satin over steel. I could feel him throbbing inside me as he smoothly slid in and out. We both sped up the pace a bit more, I moaned his name as I shattered again, a bead of sweat trickled down my neck and into the valley between my breasts as the swayed in the motion of our love making. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was close to the edge of madness. I slowly and sensually slid off him and leaving a rail of my juices along him, headed to his face. I kept my self squatted on his chest, as with my fingers I spread my folds to uncover my deepest secrets. I watched as he craned his head, to try to suck on my swollen clit, but he could not reach, I watched him moan as I fingered my self, and made myself moan in delight, He twisted his body to get to me, but to no avail, he could only watch, and want. I slid back down and took him into my mouth again, I was facing him so I could watch him watching me. I felt him quiver and shake as I sucked one ball and then the other, grabbing his ass as I did so. I lightly grazed the shaft with my teeth and my lips surrounded him. Tasting my self on his luscious cock, I slid my mouth up and down, deeper and deeper until I had enveloped the entire shaft of him. I watched as his eyes glazed over. I massaged his sack in my fingers as I sucked as hard as I could. I hear him call my name as he came forth into my mouth and I let the our tastes linger on my tongue, I raised myself up and passionately kissed him, our flavors mingling. I reached over and took the key and unlocked him from his chains, so I could feel his arms around me, embracing me, holding me. The Fan & The Superstar Jenna was ecstatic when she won two tickets to her favorite wrestling event which was coming to town that weekend. She decided to take her best friend Angela with her since there was always a large amount of men attending and her friend wanted a chance to meet someone new. Jenna was especially excited to get the chance to go backstage to meet her favorite wrestler, "Jackson Dundee". Seeing Jackson in action in the ring stimulated her womanly passions. He was a cinnamon skinned muscular, and ruggedly handsome man who towered at 6 feet, 10 inches, and was a solid build at 265 pounds. His performance drew a large following due to his quick moves and commanding personality. Once Jenna and her girlfriend arrived at the event, they were seated at special ringside seats. The show began immediately. After one hour had passed and Jackson hadn't come out yet. Jenna could barely contain her excitement. Finally, Jackson came out. The cheers of the audience seem to blow the roof off the building. Jackson stepped into the ring dripping from water he routinely pours on himself before the match to cool off. His muscular arms glistened in the limelight as he glided his powerful body around in the ring, quickly slamming his opponent around several times. After many vicious blows and stunning assaults, he eliminates his opponent with the ease of a gladiator. After winning another match, Jackson returned to his locker room. Jenna was instructed to follow a guard back to rear stage area to await her idol's appearance. Unfortunately, a man came out to tell her that Jackson wore himself out in the ring and couldn't come out. Disappointed, and in tears, Jenna requested to refresh herself in the nearest bathroom. She found herelf lost in the maze of hallways and into a small room empty except for a large therapist table. As she attempts to leave, the door opens and in walks Jackson Dundee wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. He lies on the table face down not realizing that Jenna is not the therapist. Jenna takes advantage of the situation and doesnt let on who she is. She opens the closet finding a few bottles of massage oil choosing a sensual blend fragrance. Jackson requests that she gives him a full body massage to relieve the soreness he felt from the previous match. Jenna obliged him by beginning to rub oil on his huge shoulders. Fortunately she had taken a massage course before and how fortunate for Jackson Dundee to be her first client. She moved her hands down the center of his back, and rubbed the sides of his toned waist and the center of his spine to the curved arch of his back above his butt. She skipped over his firm, round behind which hid beneath the small white towel, and placed her hands on the backs of his sculpted thighs and firm calves. He moaned with pleasure as she pressed deeply into his sore muscles. "You can remove that towel if it's easier for you" Jenna immediately removed the towel and exposed the smooth baby like skin of his firm butt She couldn't resist to rub her hands between his cheeks allowing the oil to drip between his thighs. Suddenly he did the unexpected and flips over, allowing Jenna to view the body of a Greek God. She had to step back and take in the view. His entire body was rippled with muscular definition and it was obvious he took good care of himself. Her eyes focused on the line on his body below his belly button which led to his full and healthy as well as hairless genitalia. "Well what are you waiting for?" he asked, interrupting her moment of splendor. Jenna poured more oil on her hands knowing once she began to massage Jackson, he would not want her to stop. She began rubbing his firm smooth chest slowly gliding over his now erect nipples , and molding the creases between his six-pack ribs. She watches his expression as she places her hands on his waist and slowly moves them between his thick thighs. He gives her permission to massage everything so she gently envelopes his awaiting package, sculpting it like a clay model, squeezing the excess oil between her fingers, and stroking his shaft slowly as he continues to moan. Her gentle touch turns harder and faster as she follows his body's thrusting movements. His moans get louder and he reaches out to touch her. He pulls her face to his and swallows her mouth in a passionate wet kiss. Her hand remains on his throbbing genitalia stroking faster in unison with his thrusting hips. Her hands are skilled as they glide and shape his manhood as if recreating it within her hands. His blood bubbles inside him like a volcano about to erupt as he explodes; and suddenly, Jenna finds herself sitting up in her bed. She had dreamt about the whole night. The Fan Club The off-colour remark left me stunned. Sure, I knew that the girls at the office found me attractive, because that was part of the territory of being single. Plenty of these women, indeed most, were married, but that didn't stop them from looking. My profession didn't hurt, either. The only differences between an attorney back in Wales and one here in the States are that you have a lot more money and far more status. It's not even called the same thing. In the UK, I was a barrister. Here in the States, I'm an ATTORNEY. It says everything and women KNOW it. Whoever thinks that women are less shallow than men is fooling himself (or herself). Whereas men are consumed with lust for the woman's body, attracted to attitudes, and fascinated with facial expressions, women might as well look at a man's checkbook on the first date. It would be more honest. They want a powerful man with financial security, though they are sometimes unaware that some of those men are pricks and workaholics who will neglect them. That American country song "Little Rock" says everything for these women a decade down the road. My firm, Fulton, Morton, and Steiner, had recently made me a partner, which also enhanced my standing. They were still somewhat concerned about the effect of promoting a gruff, hard-drinking Welshman to full partnership. My long, red hair, sideburns, thick accent, Harris tweed suits, and fondness for cigars and Scotch made me rather conspicuous. However, for many of the lasses at the office, those qualities made me seem an "alpha male", manly and worthy of their admiration. Though they teased me about my quirks and my title, they also found them quite fascinating in a sexual way. Of course, they were ignorant enough to think me a knight, when in fact I'm a baronet. That's a hereditary title, so I can't be blamed for having it. Anyway, the statement in question affected me, although I'm rather accustomed to being propositioned, especially since my divorce. Casey, a sassy brunette in her mid-20s, simply pointed out that I had quite a fan club. When I asked her to elaborate as to why I would have a following, she simply said that I was a superstar in her dreams and those of her colleagues. "I would have thought that you would be dreaming about your husband," I teased her. "Him? He's not a dream. He's a NIGHTMARE!" she retorted. "I wouldn't know anything about that. In any case, where do I come in?" I probed. "For one thing, Sir Cecil, you're the first knight I've ever met. It's not everyday a girl runs into the real thing. You're the closest thing to a celebrity that I've ever known and the same goes for my friends. That's where you CUM in," she winked at me. "Actually, I'm not a knight at all. I'm a baronet. I was born with the title and if I ever get my citizenship, I'll have to give it up. Don't look toward to being 'Lady Evans'. There's already two of those and they'll keep their titles even after I lose mine. The first is my Mother and the 2nd is my ex-wife," I corrected her. "Do you have a castle? If so, can you take me there?" she continued to taunt me. Erica, another of the associates at the firm, overheard that and giggled. "Really, Case, you're incredible! Just because he's the most eligible bachelor here doesn't mean that you have to chase him. For one thing, you're a married woman. Doesn't that make YOU less than available?" she pointed out. "Yeah, you just want to keep him to yourself. You just LOVE to play up your single status to knock out the competition. I'd leave Percy in a minute if our Welsh friend here would have me. It's not like my husband is using me. Not that I wouldn't jump my man's bones if he offered. He is still a cute guy. He just doesn't have any use for me," Casey explained. "Casey, we don't need to hear about your sex life, or lack thereof! Have you ever thought of seducing him? Wear something naughty and get his attention, instead of whining and trying to get another man into bed," Erica scolded her. "Like that would work? I've fucking tried already! I've suggested counseling, for God's sake! No dice! And you just want this guy for yourself anyway," Casey countered. "If I do, it will be perfectly okay, as I'm SINGLE, alright?" Erica shouted at her, while I used the chance to get away from the women staging an impromptu catfight for my benefit. Both ladies were very hot and their attraction to me was flattering, but I didn't need this kind of trouble. I knew, for one thing, that Percy would get every bit as pissed as I had when I caught Gwen in bed with our friend Dafyd. I certainly didn't become celibate when I left Cardiff and Gwen behind me. Quite a few ladies had given me whatever I wanted. Erica was a rather sexy blonde and Casey had her share of charms, but I was convinced that the latter's only complaint about her marriage was the lack of sex. As for the former, well, she was "husband-shopping" too. I could tell. The last thing that I wanted was a new WIFE, damn it! What exactly Percy had against banging his own wife was hard to know and he certainly didn't have the right to deprive her and expect fidelity (nor should she if the situation was reversed). However, the problem was fairly new and the marriage quite salvageable in my opinion. Just 4 months before, Casey had come back from maternity leave after giving birth to her 3rd child! Maybe the hubby was just giving her an extra month to heal, for all I knew. Not surprisingly, with my luck, I wasn't to be left alone. June Thomas was there. The trouble with June was simple: she was something of a presumed lesbian. This DID mean that I wasn't as annoyed to see her, but I still wanted to be left to my work and my thoughts, not a conversation, even with the one girl that I felt certain wouldn't be trying to snare me into wedlock. "Cecil, you can't run away from the girls here forever. You're going to have to deal with their obsession with you. I know what you're thinking: I just want to meet the ladies at the pub, drink with them, and have as many one-night stands as I wish. "You're not too thrilled with the women here, because you think they're out for a diamond ring and an Mrs. I can understand that. You've been jaundiced on the whole idea of marriage since your divorce. I can't blame you. I felt the same way when George left me. "As a matter of fact, I've been chasing women off for the same reason. I still don't want to marry. But, then again, I have my own reasons. Be that as it may, you're going to have to confront their pursuit of you," she explained. "Well, seriously, June, what kind of a hypocrite will leave a man alone because he's married, while having no qualms about the idea of cheating on her own husband? That's the kind of woman Casey is, for instance. And she's not the only one, you know," I pointed out irritably. "Oh, I'm not so sure about that with Casey, but I do get your point. Some women are like that, including several here. It's a silly double standard in a way, but it has more to do with friendship and not betraying a friend, a sense of loyalty than a consistent or deliberate hypocrisy on their part. Make no mistake, many of these women would gladly sleep with a married man if they hated his wife," June commented. "In other words, they feel more loyalty to their friends than they do to their husbands. Sure, that makes sense!" I sarcastically reacted. "I know that sounds wrong, but that's exactly it for many of them. Bear in mind that many of them have no fixed set of values, just a code of manners that has been drummed into them by their favorite magazines. They don't think consistently at all. They don't have your impressive sense of honor and noblesse oblige. Their friends matter to them, in terms of their status, in a way that their husbands can't, because the former are more permanent than the latter," Ms. Thomas stated baldly. "You definitely know your own sex," I teased her, albeit gratefully in light of her information. "Sleeping with them doesn't hurt. And yes, early on in my experiences as a bisexual woman, I did fuck married women, not all of them in a swinging context. I know what drives women to cheat. I know their excuses and rationalizations. "I still do it with married women from time to time, but only with certain requirements. They have to have their men's permissions or be wronged somehow seriously by the men in question. Otherwise, I will refuse to do that to an innocent man," June clarified. "Glad to know that you have ethics. So, you're bi, not gay? Well, I won't ask you to 'pick a team' as some idiots do. That sort of thing is probably one of the things that turn you off marriage, isn't it?" I probed. "Indeed. Say, since you clearly are horny, but don't want to get involved with someone who will be jealous, how about a friendly deal?" she inquired eagerly. "What sort of a deal?" I demanded. "We fuck, but don't ask questions about whom else we have. This is not about love or commitment, certainly not about monogamy. It's just friends fucking friends for fun. How does that strike your fancy?" she offered. So, there it was. The one woman that I thought DIDN'T want my body was just like the others in that respect, though not in the other aspects. Then again, lust was never the issue that bothered me. I'm not a bloody prude, after all. I just didn't want some controlling bitch insisting on a rock in 2 months and spying on me. I wanted to have the right to come and go where I pleased, enjoying my new freedom. After all, I had sacrificed that to be with Gwen and look what she did to me! I was in no mood to trade in my recently recovered manhood for the false promise of regular companionship. June, however, was proposing something open, forthright, and tangible. She had always struck me as being unusually down-to-earth and this proffered arrangement was no different. It was vintage June Thomas: candid, direct, and practical. "Very well, June. I can trust you in a way that I can't with the other women here. You're not politically correct or sanctimonious. You're straightforward, gutsy, and pleasantly concise about things. You're strong and smart, but not emasculating. And you are attractive without being prissy or vain. I have to admit to finding you sexy, so let's go ahead with this idea and see where it leads. It would be nice to sleep with someone who isn't given to bullshit," I remarked. "Well, I am a Capricorn, after all. We're very sensible people. What about you? What's your sign, out of curiosity?" she asked me casually. "Libra, I think. I'm all about fairness and honesty. I like common sense and justice. That's probably why I'm an attorney. You know, that impresses me, that you're not ashamed to mention astrology. A lot of people see it as junk science and dismiss it too quickly, whereas I think it has real value. That's a major difference. There's more to the zodiac than daily horoscopes devised by editors and columnists," I stated. "True. On a different matter, though, I do think that you should eventually give these girls what they want. Just hold them to your terms. For centuries, we women have used our bodies to gain favors and make demands of men. Why not turn the tables on them? They really are something of a fan club, so they'll do whatever it takes to bed the handsome and roguish Welsh lawyer for whom they lust," June suggested. "Pragmatic to the end, eh? Well, your advice makes sense, so if they should approach you for inside knowledge, tell them this: they must not ask for marriage, leave their husbands for me, lie to their husbands about me, or try to keep other women away from me. They must do whatever I ask of them, without hesitating or resisting. They must not try to control me. They must not deny either of their men (me or their husbands) sex or claim exclusive rights to us. After all, what's good for Jack is just as good for Jill, isn't it?" I rattled off my list of conditions. "Anything else, or should I tell your fan club that's all you ask of them?" she winked at me. "Oh, yes, if I give them something, they must thank me and wait at least a day before asking for more money or gifts. That's only polite, isn't?" I informed her, quite seriously. "Of course," June agreed. "You're helping them, aren't you?" I accused her, suddenly paranoid. "Not as such. They didn't ask me as a group to help them seduce you, but I just know that they would pay a good price for the chance to fuck you and I think, as a friend, that I should help you benefit from their desperation," she replied. "Well, they are too much at odds right now to co-operate anyway, so that was silly of me. I'm curious, though, as to what pleasure you get out of this. What's your motive?" I wondered. "I get the considerable pleasure and honor of knowing that I got you first and they owe their fun to me. You might say that I'm the president of the fan club. When they know that I've fucked you before they did, they'll have to recognize me for that and not dismiss me as being a lesbian instead of a serious rival. I also hope to get some pussy out of this. I would love to make those snotty bitches eat me out, lick my ass, and take my strap-on up their sore cunts," she laughed. "Believe me, if this plan works out, they shall. You'll get all of the tail that you could ever want, since you'll be helping me get it fuss-free. So, president of the fan club? All of this time, I never took you for more than a friendly colleague. You have shocked me, June. I just thought we were platonic," I noted. "Played it cool, didn't I? What you didn't know was that I used up several vibrators fantasizing about you. I definitely wanted to do it with you, even if I hid it well," she related flirtatiously. "Wow, in your own way, you're as coquettish as any of the others! By the way, why exactly did George leave you? I've got to know. I'm just curious whether it had anything to with your sexuality," I asked her. "As a matter of fact, it did. George is what you'd call a religious fanatic. He got hooked on some cult and convinced that homosexuality is an 'abomination'. So, when I told him I was bisexual, simply trying to be honest with him, he flipped his lid. It didn't matter that I assured him that we would only swing if both of us wanted it and that I wouldn't cheat on him with women. He was convinced that I was a 'deviate' and wouldn't touch me. "I tried to level with the man and communicate him, honestly and openly, the way couples are supposed to do, but he freaked out on me. Accused me of being a lesbian and sleeping with my friends. Finally, he filed for divorce on the grounds of adultery. "After that, I had little interest in marriage and still don't. I need to explore my sexuality and enjoy my life. Sex is a basic human need, like food, water, or air. As such, it is also a right. I was willing to sacrifice complete fulfillment for my marriage that already existed, but I wasn't about to enter a new one that would require such a major act of self-denial. It's just not me," she declared. "That explains a lot. What cult was it, out of curiosity? They're not the door-knocking type, are they now?" I inquired. "Yes, he's a Moonie, or at least he was at the time. You know, they believe that Reverend Moon is the new Messiah, or something like that," she rattled off, still a bit upset about the matter. "Ah, yes, that guy! Didn't he go to prison for a while? Tax evasion or something like that?" I questioned her. "Yes, and he also slept with some of his female followers, but that's another issue. He controls a major right-wing newspaper," she told me. "Well, enough about that. Would you like to come home with me tonight and enjoy a nightcap?" I finally suggested to her. "There's no need for euphemisms, Cecil, but I would love to 'shag' you. I haven't been with a member of the OPPOSITE sex in quite a while. I've been so busy experiencing the Sapphic side of myself for the past few months," she agreed. "Well, if you're rusty, I'm more than willing to help you get some practice. I shall certainly enjoy fucking you. I must warn you that I like to bugger women. I hope that doesn't disgust you," I answered her. "Why would it? I love anal as well. The idea of being first in the office to get your nice cock in my backdoor would please me very much," June stated. That night, I showed up at Ms. Thomas's flat and she met me in something from one of the lingerie stores. I didn't know it was Victoria's Secret or Frederick's of Hollywood, but that was irrelevant. I was about to enjoy my new "friend with benefits" at the firm. "I suppose that you actually DO want a nightcap before we do this, Cecil. After all, I don't intend to sleep alone tonight. If I have my way, you won't be driving home. You like Scotch, right?" she flirted with me. "Yes, thank you, darling. I'll take a shot, on the rocks with no chaser," I agreed. "Very well. I have some Glenlivet left. Yes, I spent a little extra to please you, hoping to have the chance. I'll make a Long Island Ice Tea for myself. That's my absolute favorite drink. George used to like Brandy Alexanders before he converted to the Unification Church. Now he's a teetotaler. Guess he saves money on milk, anyway. I suppose that he traded one drug, namely alcohol, for another: the Moonie worldview," June commented as she poured me a glass of 12 year old Scotch and some ice cubes. She then mixed herself up a Long Island and we stood in the kitchen together, drinking our poisons and looking at each other in a more obviously lustful way than in the past. She had straight, shoulder-length black hair. Her eyes were a color that I could have sworn was turquoise. She had a fair skin that easily got sun-burned. Despite the usual tomboyish front that she put on, she could be quite charming and feminine when she chose to be. She was hardly a thin lady, but she wasn't obese, either. In spite of her smoking habit, there were few signs of tobacco stains on her. Apparently, she must have cleaned up the traces of her nicotine dependency a lot. Since I smoked cigars, I could hardly condemn her for inhaling a pack of Virginia Slims, or whatever brand she used. June, who had reverted to her maiden name after her divorce, was made partner a week after myself. Fulton, Morton, and Steiner was a "strict seniority" kind of firm. Experience and knowledge of the law mattered to them. They promoted you ONLY when you qualified in their opinion. They looked at each case separately and gave no special favors to anyone on the basis of sex or race. Despite their personal misgivings about an associate, anyone who deserved it got it. I was 36 and June was 38. Her marriage had delayed her advancement, but only by 2 years. In that sense, she was lucky. I got the impression that she let people think that she was gay, just so there would be no pressure to marry again or give in to the unwanted advances of married partners and associates. ME, however, she chose to enlighten. Obviously, she wanted to encourage advances on my part. She knew, as did most lawyers, that sexual harassment laws were a double-edged sword. They tended to repel both the desirable and the undesirable colleagues. (Personally, I thought they were a cop-out for people that didn't want to bear the onus of admitting that they were selective.) I was shocked out of my thoughts by having a tongue lick my cock. June was giving me a blowjob. Her mouth was savoring my flesh as she sucked my dick to complete stiffness. She even tasted my balls, causing me to nearly cum right then. Naturally, my normal self-control returned quickly and I motioned for her to drop her negligee. I had no idea that she shaved her pussy, but she apparently did. Her cunt was as bald as it could be. She put my hand on her mound and I felt its smooth skin. She also slipped me some tongue, kissing my lips hungrily. All of the passion that had submerged beneath her cool façade erupted like a dormant volcano long presumed to be extinct.