****** Are you an evil man? ******
                           Provided By: BDSM_Library
                              www.bdsmlibrary.com



Synopsis: A long story about the evil things that a good man is capable of
doing. Not for the easily offended or for those who take stories like this
seriously.






1.
It all started out so simply.
Standing in front of the bedroom mirror, pursing her red lips together,
Catherine said, "Matt says he has a new girlfriend."
Lying on their bed, glancing through the new copy of InTheater, Jeff
said, "Oh yeah?"
"He's bringing her to dinner."
"That's good."
Catherine sighed. "I hope this one isn't a bimbo."
"Matt's the one who has to date her."
"Yeah," Catherine replied, "but we're the ones who are going to have to
talk to her."
The fact that his so-sweet girlfriend could occasionally be such a bitch
caused Jeff to smile and he looked up from his magazine. She was
standing with her back to him, putting on her makeup. Catherine Anderson
was a tall, 18 year-old girl whose thick, blonde-streaked Pown hair
reached down to the nape of her neck. She wore small rimless glasses
that sat on the end of a pert nose and she had a pretty face that was
sexy simply because it appeared too sweet and innocent to be true. She
was half-naked, wearing only blue cotton panties that molded perfectly
into the curves of her luscious ass and a purple bra that held up the
36D breasts that still sometimes left her self-conscious. Staring at her
body, Jeff could feel his cock harden.
"I mean, why can't Matt just for once, date someone with a brain?" she
asked, nonchalantly.
Jeff stood up and, as he slowly walked towards her, "Maybe he doesn't
want someone with a brain."
Catherine saw Jeff approaching in the mirror. Jeff Stern was twenty-five
years old, shorter than her but still handsome with dark hair and
piercing eyes that always left her feeling exposed whenever they fell on
her. Catherine had grown up in a small, country town in West Texas -
sung in the church choir, played in the high school marching band, and
at her most wild, had left her few boyfriends occasionally feel her up.
Less than a year ago, she had left for college and now she was living
with an artistic Jewish guy who was seven years older than her and could
fuck her with his eyes. Who would have guessed?
He wrapped his arms around her bare stomach and nuzzled her neck.
"Hi," she said, glancing away from the image of them reflected in the
mirror. She felt her pussy moisten and, as much as she wished otherwise,
it left her feeling embarrassed.
Jeff continued to kiss her neck as he moved his hands down towards her
cunt. As he reached the top of her panties, she said, "Jeff, c'mon, I
have to get ready." Gently but firmly, she grabbed his hands and slid
out of his grasp.
"We can be a little late," Jeff whispered in her ear.
"Matt's waiting for us-"
"Matt'll understand."
"That's what I'm scared of."
Jeff was silent for a few minutes and Catherine feared she had upset
him. Instead, he suddenly smiled and patted her ass, giving her a
playful squeeze before walking back to the bed.
"You got five minutes," Jeff said, lying back down, "If you're not ready
by then, I'm coming to get you."
Catherine looked back at him and smiled. "Behave."
Jeff simply smiled back. He knew he'd behave. In the end, for all the
smoldering looks and flirtatious innuendo, they always behaved.
That was the problem.
2.
It actually took Catherine ten more minutes to get ready but it was
worth it. When they left the apartment for Bari's, she was wearing blue
jeans that nicely showed off the supple curves of her hips and a tight
blue shirt that stretched over her pert breasts. As he drove them to the
restaurant, Jeff noticed the clear impressions of her luscious nipples,
hardened by the night air, against the shirt's fabric. He knew it was
something that would terribly embarrass Catherine if she noticed it but
Jeff remained quiet.
For what struggling college students and starving artists could afford,
Bari's was probably the best Italian restaurant in Mayland, Texas. As
Jeff and Catherine stepped through the front doors, they saw Matt Welsh
already sitting in the back of the smoking section. An open bottle of
Michelob sat on the table in front of him. He was alone.
"Great," Catherine whispered as Jeff waved to Matt, "she dumped him
already."
As they reached the table, Matt grasped Jeff's hand and then said, "Did
Catherine tell you about my new woman, yet?"
Jeff nodded, "Yeah. She dump you already?"
Matt shook his head. "No, she's just taking a leak. See - there she is
now."
Matt pointed towards the ladies room door, which was closing behind a
young woman with curly brown hair. She stood around 5'4 with a slender
body - a little too slender for Jeff's tastes. On the whole, he liked
his women to have rounder hips. However, she did have nice, long legs
and perky, if not extremely large, breasts. She was wearing tight denim
shorts that seemed almost tucked into her cunt and showed off almost all
of her legs. She was wearing a tiny, white tank-top that left her flat
stomach and pierced belly button exposed. The thin fabric of her top
revealed her black bra. Both bra straps hung carelessly off her
shoulders, almost as if they were letting every man in Bari's know how
easy it would be to unharness her tits.
"That's my Joey," Matt said.
Catherine leaned over to Jeff and whispered, "Oh yeah, he's going out
with her for her mind."
Jeff smiled and discreetly glanced down at the impressions of
Catherine's still hardened nipples against her shirt. Catherine's
breasts were definitely larger and fuller than this new girlfriend of
Matt's and Jeff, being a boob man, definitely preferred Catherine. As
the new girl walked over to the table, the denim of her shorts showing
every movement of her well-toned legs. Jeff couldn't keep his eyes off
her - there was something about her, something so blatantly fuckable in
the way this girl moved. When she reached the table, she flashed a
sudden smile across her kittenish face and gave Matt a long passionate
kiss. She then turned to Jeff and Catherine.
Extending her hand, she said, "Hi, my name's Joey. You can call me
Joey."
Catherine smiled briefly enough to say, "I'm Catherine."
"And you," Joey said, "must be Jeff."
As Jeff shook her hand and noted that she had a strong grip but her
hands still felt soft and seductive, he said, "I must be Jeff?"
"Matt's told me a lot about you."
Joey sat down beside Matt and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.
"Joey's an actress," Matt said, "She's going to try out for the next MCT
show."
Joey smiled. "I can hardly wait."
The MCT was the Mayland Community Theater. Jeff, Matt, and Catherine had
all first met when they were in a MCT production of The Importance of
Being Earnest six months earlier.
Catherine's voice was acidic as she asked, "So, how did you and Matt
meet?"
Joey shrugged. "Oh, how does anyone meet? You know what I mean?"
"No," Catherine replied, "I'm afraid I don't."
Luckily, the awkward conversation ended with the arrival of the waiter,
who took their orders while staring down at Joey's breasts. After the
waiter left, Catherine leaned over to Jeff and whispered, "Why don't you
put your eyes back in their sockets before the food arrives?"
Nervously, Jeff smiled.
3.
As usual, dinner was spent listening to Matt brag. He had the greatest
car in the world. He was going to write the greatest play of all time.
Everyone in Mayland knew and loved him. It was the usual Matt bullshit
that so many women found to be strangely irresistible. Joey didn't say
much except to occasionally agree with Matt. Sometimes, Jeff could swear
that she was looking at him out of the corner of the eyes, giving him a
flirtatious half-smile, but he also knew he had an active imagination.
Besides, he was with Catherine.
After dinner, when Jeff parked the car in front of their apartment,
Catherine said, "I'm glad to see Matt's taste hasn't changed. He still
likes them quiet and stupid..."
Jeff laughed. "God, why are women always like that?"
Sitting in the parked car, only the dim light of nearby street light
illuminating her pretty face, Catherine looked at him and asked, "Like
what?"
Jeff laughed again. "Evil."
"How are we evil?"
"The stuff you say about each other. I mean, if women hate each other
that much, why don't you all just have a war and whoever's left alive at
the end can decide how everyone should dress and look and then you won't
have to spend so much time talking about everyone behind their back."
To Jeff's relief, Catherine smiled. "That's a little extreme, don't you
think?"
"It'd work."
"Jeff, we may be bitchy but we're not murderers."
For some reason, that statement turned him on. Jeff leaned forward and
kissed her moist lips. As he moved his tongue into her mouth, he ran his
hands over her chest, stopping to cup her right breast and rub her
hardened nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He heard the sound of
her gasping breath as his left hand glided up her thighs, finally coming
to a stop at the crotch of her jeans.
"Jeff," she gasped in his ear, "anybody can see us-"
"So?"
She pushed away from him and, smiling sweetly, said, "Let's at least go
inside."
4.
By the time he followed her into the bedroom, his cock was already so
hard, it felt as if it was exploding out of his jeans. She gave a small
cry of pleasurable shock as he grabbed her arm and twirled her around to
him until her back pressed up against his chest and her ass against his
crotch. He pulled up on her shirt until he managed to get his hands
under the fabric and he wrapped them his arms around her warm belly,
squeezing her and inhaling the fragrance of her hair. Slowly, she kicked
off her shoes.
"Jeff," she gasped, "what do you want to do?"
"What do you want me to do?"
"I want you to fuck me."
Something about the sound of her sweet, almost innocent voice, uttering
the word "fuck" in the heat of passion - it did it to him everytime. He
twirled her out of his grasp and she gracefully landed on the bed. She
propped herself up and pulled her shirt off over her head, revealing her
bountiful breasts held up by her green brassiere. She unbuttoned the top
button and then unzipped her jeans and raised up her hips to allow Jeff
to pull them off. When she was clad only in her underwear, she fell back
onto the bed, her breasts softly bouncing as she did so.
The expression on her face was one of pure lust. "Please, Jeff - fuck
me."
Quickly, Jeff undressed, leaving his clothes scattered across the room.
He slipped off his boxers, allowing his nine inch erection to spring to
life, pointing towards Catherine's pussy like a heat seeking missile. He
climbed onto the bed and soon, he was holding his body over Catherine's.
He lowered himself down to kiss her mouth. As his cock rubbing against
her moist cotton panties, she bit into his lower lip and sent a pain
through his body that only aroused him more. She arched up her back to
allow him to reach underneath and unhook her brassiere which he greedily
pulled off her, freeing her magnificent breasts. He lowered his mouth
onto her right nipple, sucking on it until it was red and hard and,
almost pleading, she gasped, "Kiss me, Jeff. Kiss me-down there."
Still sucking on her breasts, he reached down and, with her help, ripped
down on her blue panties, yanking them down to her knees and then
letting her kick them off. Slowly, he ran his tongue down her body, over
her breasts, over her belly button, and down over her dark pubes. He
rolled his tongue over her clit for a few minutes and he inhaled deeply,
taking in the smell of her pussy. Jeff loved the way pussy smelled - so
dirty, yet so real. Finally, as she spread her legs, he placed his lips
of over her hole and licked the wet inside of her pussy.
"Oh God, Jeff," she said, "please, please fuck me now..."
Her pussy was hot and wet and it seemed to suck his cock right into her.
Entering her was always his favorite part of fucking her - she always
gave off a small yell of pleasure, her reserved facade crumbling as he
rammed his huge cock into her body. Once he was in her, he thrust back
and forth as she wrapped her legs around his back. Their sweat-bathed
bodies pressed together as he continued jamming into her and her entire
body shook with each thrust of his cock. Behind her glasses, her eyelids
fluttered open and shut with pleasure. She was making the high pitched
squeals he only heard whenever he was inside her and he knew he was the
only man to have heard those squeals. He kept thrusting into her until
she let out an almost anguished scream that let him know she had an
orgasm. That scream always got him off. He finally came inside her and
he felt his juices spurting out of his cock and into her.
She unwrapped her legs and her arms fell to her side in exhaustion. He
slid his cock out of her and then rolled off her - their sweat-sealed
bellies made a loud THWOCK as they separated. Lying beside her, he
looked over as she took off her glasses and, still gasping, started to
wipe off the steam-covered lenses.
Finally, he started, "Well-"
Before he could finish his thought, she suddenly jumped out of bed and,
completely nude, ran from the bedroom and into the bathroom, closing the
door behind her.
"Catherine!" he shouted after her.
From inside the bathroom, he could hear her pressing down on her asthma
inhaler.
Good sex always gave her an asthma attack.
5.
The next afternoon, Jeff and Matt went down to the Mayland Community
Theater to help paint the sets for an upcoming production of a Streetcar
Named Desire. In between, they stepped out to the theater's back alley
and smoked a cigarette.
"So, what did you guys do last night?" Matt asked.
Thinking about a nude Catherine running for her inhaler, Jeff smiled to
himself and said, "Not much."
"Sorry to hear that," Matt smirked, "What did you think of Joey?"
"She seemed nice."
"That's not what I'm asking, man. Let me tell you something about that
girl-" Matt leaned towards Jeff and whispered, "That girl is perfect. I
mean - she is, like, addicted to giving head. I mean, when she sucks my
dick-"
"Matt," Jeff cut him off, "that's more than I need to know-"
"She swallows, too. Can you believe that? She doesn't make you put on
some fucking rubber, she doesn't make you pull out, and she doesn't
spit. What do you think of that?"
"I think that's more than I need to know."
"You guys are such prudes."
"What do you mean 'guys?'"
"You and Catherine," Matt snorted, "I mean, shit, buddy, when was the
last time Catherine sucked your dick? I mean - has she ever sucked your
dick?"
Jeff smiled nervously. "I don't have to prove anything to you-'
"Hey, she's a sweet girl. I'm not saying a thing against Catherine. But
sometimes a man need something more than sweet. And you know I'm right."
Before Jeff could answer, they heard a female voice behind them say,
"Hey, look - its the theater faggots."
Jeff and Matt turned around. The Goth girl was walking down the alley.
"The Goth Girl" was the name a few members of the MCT had given to a
teenage girl who apparently lived in the alley behind the theater. She
was a small, waifish girl who was somewhere between fourteen and sixteen
years old. She had pale, deathly white skin with an apparently flat
chest and straight, jet black hair that fell down to her ass. Her lips
and her eyeliner were coal black. She wore a dog collar around her long,
thin neck and a low-cut, almost transparent black dress that fell down
to her knees and revealed the black slip she always wore underneath. She
was barefoot and a black pentagram was tattooed on her right ankle. As
usual, she had an expression of affected contempt across her face.
"Why don't you two get a room?" she said.
"Fuck you," Matt snapped back.
"Ignore her," Jeff said.
"You couldn't fuck me," the girl said.
"I could do whatever I fucking want to you!" Matt's voice rose.
As the girl walked past the two men, she said, "My cunt has teeth."
"FUCK YOU, BITCH!" Matt screamed, holding up his middle finger.
"Jesus Christ, Matt," Jeff said, "calm down-"
"I DON'T HAVE TO TAKE THAT SHIT FROM THAT CUNT!"
The Goth Girl laughed as she turned out of the alley and onto the
street.
"Goddamn bitch!" Matt said.
"She's just a kid, Matt," Jeff said.
Again, Matt snorted. "If she keeps giving people shit, she's going to be
a dead kid!"
With that, Matt tossed his cigarette to the ground and reentered the
theater. Jeff stood in the alley and sighed. It was a fucked up world.
6.
Two hours later, when Matt returned to his one bedroom apartment, Joey
London was half-naked. She was standing in front of the wall-length
mirror Matt kept in the bedroom, admiring her body. She was wearing a
red bra that held up her small but firm tits and small, white panties
decorated with red hearts. An ex-boyfriend whose name she could barely
remember had given them to her last Valentine's Day. Joey liked her body
- she knew that every man who saw her athletically perk figure became
turned on. She didn't have a lot in the world but she knew she was sexy.
To be honest, Joey didn't like fucking that much. Most men didn't know
what they were doing - they just shoved their cocks into her and got off
while she faked a climax. Afterward, when they were either asleep or
taking a shower or calling their wives, Joey would touch herself until
she had the only orgasm that actually felt right to her - one that she
had given herself. No, sex didn't excite her. It was the power. It was
the fact that she could make a man hard just by smiling at him.
She had been a cheerleader before she had dropped out of school and she
was still limber. She kicked forward her right leg and, leaning against
the drawer, held it up as high as she could, admiring the sleek muscle
tone of her thigh. Caught up in herself, she didn't hear Matt step into
the apartment and she didn't notice him in the doorway of the bedroom,
watching her.
"Joey," she muttered to her reflection, "you are so hot."
Suddenly, a large hand roughly went over her mouth and a rough voice
hissed in her ear, "Don't you fucking move, you bitch."
Oh shit, she thought, Matt wants to be a rapist again. It was one of
Matt's fantasies and he demanded to act it out nearly every night. Joey
didn't enjoy it but she usually went along if just to keep him whining
or, even worse, kicking her out to the street.
In fact, Joey hated playing rape.
"Do you know what I'm going to do to you?" Matt snapped at her.
Trying to whimper fearfully, Joey nodded.
"What am I going to do, cunt?"
He moved his hand and allowed her to scream out in her best anguished
voice, "PLEASE DON'T RAPE ME!"
"SHUT UP, CUNT!"
He shoved her down onto the bed and she landed on her stomach.
"BEG ME, BITCH!"
"Please don't rape me..." she whimpered.
"BEG ME!"
"please..."
"CUNT!"
"oh god..."
"CUNT!"
Jesus, she thought, this is getting tedious. "please don't hurt
me....i'll do anything...."
"DO YOU KNOW WHERE I'M GOING TO FUCK YOU, BITCH!?"
"...god..." she tried to fake some tears but they weren't coming.
"God ain't got nothing to do with this, cunt."
Roughly, he grabbed her hips and pulled her ass towards him. He grabbed
the sides of her panties and roughly yanked down and Joey cringed as she
heard them rip.
Fuck, she thought, those were my favorites.
"BEG ME! SCREAM!"
"I can't scream..." she said, "...I'm too scared..."
"SCREAM!"
As Joey screamed, Matt unzipped his jeans. He pulled out his erect but
small cock and then said, "I'm going to fuck you like you've never been
fucked before, cunt."
"...god in heaven...no..."
"SHUT UP, CUNT!"
He reached down and pulled apart the cheeks of her ass. He shoved his
tiny dick up her ass and started to rhythmically thrust into her anus.
As Joey waited for him to finish, she could hear him gasping as he
continued to call her a cunt. After five minutes, he came inside her and
Joey could feel the small trickle of his discharge running down her
inner thigh. Joey screamed out once to convince him he had actually done
something for her.
He pulled out his limp dick and said, "Thanks."
She turned over onto her back and looked up at him.
"Did you enjoy that?" she asked.
He zipped up his jeans. "You bet, babe."
"Good. Now, go buy me some new panties, you pervert."
7.
When Jeff returned home frustrated. He knew that he and Catherine
probably had better sex than Matt or anyone else at the MCT could even
begin to dream about. He also knew that no one else would ever know it.
People would look at Matt with girls like Joey and they would
automatically assume he was having the fuck of his life later that
night. They looked at Jeff and Catherine and would say, "What a sweet
couple," or "Aren't they cute?" but they'd never believe Jeff Stern
would be getting any that night. As much as he hated to admit it, that
bugged the Hell out of him.
When he stepped into their bedroom, Catherine was sitting on the bed,
reading an English textbook. She was wearing a red sweater and blue
jeans and she barely glanced up as Jeff entered.
"Hey," she said, "how are things down at the theater?"
Without a word, Jeff walked up to her and took the textbook from her
hands. He closed it and tossed it down to the floor. She looked up in
surprise as he leaned forward and kissed her luscious lips. She kissed
back as she caressed the back of his head.
They broke their kiss apart but continued to hold each other as she
whispered in his ear, "Did you miss me?"
"Catherine," he said, "I need you."
"I need you, too."
"I want you."
"I want you too, Jeff."
"I want you to do something."
"What do you want me to do?"
Jeff hesitated, wondering how one politely asked this. Finally, he
decided to be crude and direct.
"I want," he paused, "I want you to suck my dick."
Automatically, she let go of his head and sat back on the bed. Not quite
looking into his eyes, she started, "Jeff-"
"Catherine, please. I'll never ask again."
Her cheeks flushed red and she looked away from him. "Jeff," she said,
"you know I don't like to do that."
He sat on the bed beside her. "Why not?"
"Its just - its not me," she said, "Its not something Catherine Anderson
does. I'm sorry - sometimes, I wish I could but - I can't."
"Catherine - I love you."
"And I love you. But - I mean, you're the first guy I've ever been with,
Jeff. Its not that easy for me. Its just - I can't. I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry I asked."
"Its just - my mother always used to tell me something," Catherine
looked over at him and, for the first time, Jeff saw the tears running
from her eyes, "She'd always tell me that once you start down a certain
road, you can't turn off it until you reach the end. Do you understand
what I mean?"
Jeff nodded. "Yeah."
"Really?"
"Yes-I'm sorry, Catherine."
She leaned forward and kissed his cheek.
"I love you, Jeff," she said.
"I love you, too."
Suddenly, without another word, she reached down and unzipped the fly of
his jeans. She pulled out his erect cock and placed her lips on its
head, giving it a kiss. Jeff could feel the juices rushing into his cock
as Catherine opened her mouth. She placed her lips around the head and
quickly took the entire shaft into her mouth. To Jeff's shock and
embarrassment, he came almost immediately.
Releasing him Catherine sat back up and wiped the semen off her chin.
She ran into the bathroom and in a few minutes, Jeff heard her spitting
up.
8.
Two months later, on Valentine's Day, Joey London was fucking with mall
security.
If she had any sexual fetish, it was for herself. She loved her body and
she loved standing in front of mirrors in various states of undress.
Ever since she her first training bra, Joey had enjoyed staring at
herself in her underwear. Being a small Southern Baptist Texas town,
Mayland only had one mall and that mall only had one place to shop for
sexy underwear - the Lingerie Store. Joey made it a point to go to the
store at least twice a week. Even though she couldn't afford much of
what they had, she liked to look at the various undergarments and
imagine them on her body. And she liked to go into the dressing rooms
and try on various things, knowing she was being watched by some hidden
security camera and some horny guard somewhere was probably jerking off
to her.
Valentine's Day was no different. She was standing nude in the Lingerie
Store's dressing room, looking at herself in a mirror. There was a tiny
smirk on her face as she imagined Bubba the Mall Cop yanking and
spanking his inbred dick. She ran her hands over her flat stomach, down
to the auburn triangle of hair between her legs.
Still smirking, she leaned forward to pick her selections for the day up
from the floor. With her ass in the air, she gave it a seductive shake,
just to make Bubba wonder. She lifted her left leg as she slipped on
some black satin panties. She then lifted her right leg and pulled them
up over her pussy, enjoying the way the satin clung to her cunt. She
then put on a black bra, carefully placing each pink-nippled breast into
each cup and then fastening it in back.
She looked again at herself in the mirror.
Alright, Bubba, she thought, here's your Valentine's gift.
Slowly, she slid her right hand underneath her panties and, as she
touched herself, she gave off an exaggerated, almost campy gasp of
ecstasy and threw her head and shoulders back, thrusting her tits
forward.
She removed her hand and then looked straight into the mirror and
smiled.
"Happy?" she asked the reflection.
9.
Ten minutes later, as Joey London stepped out of the Lingerie Store, the
first person she saw was Jeff Stern. He was standing in the middle of
the crowded mall corridor, staring almost sheepishly at the Lingerie
Store. In his hand, he held a bag from Waldenbooks.
Joey smiled as she walked up to him. "Hey, Jeff."
He jumped as he heard her voice as if she was snapping him out of the
most distant of thoughts. "Hi, Joey," he said, nervously, "where'd you
come from?"
"Oh, I'm just doing a little browsing." She glanced down at the bag in
his hand and noticed the title of the book inside - The Love Poems of W.
B. Yeats.
How quaint, she thought.
"Are you shopping for Catherine?" she asked.
"Yeah," he nodded - God, his voice was so nervous. Joey had to smile.
Joey glanced over at the Lingerie Store and then back to Jeff. "And let
me guess," she said, "you're thinking about something that could be a
gift for you as well."
Jeff's cheeks turned red as he said, "Well, yes-"
"You feeling shy?"
"What?"
"Are you feeling shy? Do you need my help?"
"Well-"
"Follow me."
Firmly, Joey took Jeff's hand and led him into the Lingerie Store.
10.
As they stepped into the store, Jeff noticed that all the sales clerks
(female all) rolled their eyes at the sight of Joey. It was true that
Joey wasn't exactly dressed for success - she was wearing a white tank
top that hung low on her breasts and tight white shorts imprinted with
the outline of her thong panties. As Jeff followed behind her, he
couldn't help watch the firm, sexy movement of her ass and he knew he
was probably getting far too obviously aroused. Fuck it - he loved
Catherine and Matt was his best friend but he couldn't deny that Joey
London was a sexy lady.
From behind a counter, a tall blonde wearing a black dress said, "Did
you forget something?"
"No," Joey smiled even as her voice was catty, "I just decided to come
back earlier than usual."
She turned to Jeff and whispered, "That's Lisa. She's a snobby bitch so
let's find a different sales clerk. What are you looking to get for
Catherine?"
Jeff shrugged. "Y'know - underwear."
"God," Joey smiled, "men always think these things are so simple. You
want bras, panties, teddies, dominatrix gear - what?"
"No dominatrix gear."
"Not your thing?"
"Afraid not."
"Never knock something 'til you try it," Joey replied.
"Bras and panties," Jeff said.
"What size bra?"
"36 D."
Joey looked incredulous. "36 D?"
"Yeah..."
She shrugged. "She carries it well. Most girls that big always look like
they're about to fall over. I'm happy with my B Cup."
From behind the counter, Lisa said, "Well, what can I help you two
find?"
Joey leaned over to Jeff and her breasts briefly brushed against his
arm. "Leave this to me," she whispered before walking to Lisa.
As Jeff watched, Joey leaned across the counter and talked to Lisa.
Staring at the two of them, an image suddenly flashed through Jeff's
head. Joey and Lisa. Naked in a jacuzzi. Licking whip cream off each
other. JESUS CHRIST, WHAT WAS WRONG WITH HIM!? It was Valentine's, he
was getting underwear for the woman he loved, and all he could think
about what his best friend's girl fucking some snooty sales clerk.
Lisa nodded and then went to the back storeroom. Joey walked back to
Jeff and said, "She hates me because I always come in here and I never
buy anything."
Jeff looked over at her and smiled. He could see down the front of her
top and indiscreetly, he scanned the top of her tits - a little small
for him but still nice...
Lisa stepped out of the storeroom, carrying a black bra and a pair of
black thong panties.
"Is this what you wanted?" Lisa asked.
"Catherine doesn't wear thongs..." Jeff started.
"She'll love it," Joey cut him off. "Fuck me."
Jeff looked over at her, surprised. What had she just said?
Joey smiled at him and repeated, "Trust me."
11.
After Jeff purchased the underwear, Joey asked if he wanted to get lunch
with her. He agreed, even volunteering to pay. Joey smiled as he offered
- men were always willing to pay for her.
As they ate a lunch of Mexican food, Joey said, "So, how did Catherine
and you end up together?"
Jeff shrugged. "We were in a play together. One thing led to another."
Joey nodded. "I just have a hard time imagining you two together."
Shocked, Jeff laughed. "What do you mean?"
"Catherine seems so - well, don't get me wrong. She seems like a sweet
girl but - well, I don't want to make things awkward."
"Well, how did you and Matt get together?"
Joey sighed. "Shit, I guess I brought this on myself."
"That good a story, huh?"
"Look, I had been in Mayland for a week and I didn't have any place to
live," Joey shrugged, "You have to understand - I tend to move around in
a hurry. I met Matt in a bar and we started talking and he offered to
let me move in. The rest, as they say is history."
Jeff nodded as he started to feel distinctively uncomfortable. He
wondered what Catherine would say about this - well, he could guess.
Finally, he said, "I see."
"I know that makes me sound like a whore."
"Not necessarily-"
"No, it does," Joey smiled, sadly, "Maybe I am in whore. I know that.
Listen, Jeff, you're a sweet guy so let me tell you something. This is
the most important thing you'll ever hear. You ready for it?"
There was something intense in her eyes and Jeff couldn't look away from
her. "I'm ready."
"There's only one terrible thing in the world, Jeff," Joey said, "you
know what that is? Everyone's got their own good reasons."
Sweetly, she smiled at him and then stood up and walked away. Jeff
watched the hypnotic sway of her ass and suddenly, he felt very guilty.
12.
That evening, when Catherine stepped through the front door and dropped
her collection of textbooks to the floor, she yelled out, "Jeff, I'm
home!"
Silence.
"Jeff!?"
Silence.
She looked around the living room and saw a small note sitting on the
coffee table. She read it.
"You've got fifteen minutes to get ready. I left something for you
outside the bedroom."
Catherine put the note down and quickly went up stairs to the bedroom.
Sitting in front of the closed door was a plain brown box. She knelt
down and lifted up the led and, almost despite herself, smiled when she
saw the black underwear waiting for her.
"God, Jeff," she muttered, "you have got such a one track mind."
Still, she wasn't disappointed. She reached into the box and took out
the bra. According to the tag in bag, it was her size but the cups were
padded. She ran her finger across the padding and then looked down at
the front of her gray shirt and the impression of her ample breasts
trying to break free. Jesus, the last thing in the world she needed was
padding - then again, Jeff was a guy. What did he know about buying
lady's underwear?
She then pulled out the panties and held the thong up to the light.
"Jesus," she said, "is this underwear or dental floss?"
She hated thongs, hated the way they rode up her ass. She knew Jeff
liked them but Jeff never actually had to wear them.
Still...
She stared at the thong for a minute and a sly smile came to her face.
13.
Fifteen minutes later, when Jeff knocked on the apartment's front door,
he was wearing a suit and tie and holding a bouquet of roses in his
hands.
When the door opened, Catherine stood in the doorway and smiled. "You
better be careful, Mr. Stern, or else my boyfriend's going to start to
suspect something's going on."
She was wearing a tight, red dress, the skirt of which fell halfway down
her thighs. With her hair teased and her face fully made up, she was
breathtakingly beautiful and Jeff didn't know what to say.
Finally, he said, "You look great."
She looked down at the roses. "Are those for me?"
"Yeah."
"Can I have them?"
"Oh, sorry."
He handed her the flowers. She sniffed them and smiled.
"Did you get my present?" he asked.
"Oh yes," a small smile came to her lips, "I got them."
"What-"
"What did I think? You'll find out soon enough, Mr. Stern. I'm going to
put the flowers in water."
She turned around and strode into the kitchen. Standing in the doorway,
Jeff watched her backside move underneath the velvet of her dress,
wondering if she was wearing his gift. As she turned the corner and
entered the corner, she gave her ass a sultry shake.
Jeff smiled to himself. "Happy Valentine's Day."
14.
They had dinner at Bari's and afterward, Jeff and Catherine went to the
Royal Motel - a small, cheap motel that sat out on the edge of the
highway leading out of Mayland. It was something they did regularly
before moving in together. Walking behind Catherine as they headed to
their room, Jeff felt like he had gone back in time, when every move
with her had promised a new discovery.
When they entered the dark room, Jeff grabbed her from behind and turned
her to him. As he kissed her, he ran his hands over clothed breasts.
Gently but firmly, she pushed him away.
She smiled at him. "Eager, Mr. Stern?"
Jeff smiled. "Are you wearing my gifts?"
"You know I don't wear thongs."
Jeff's smiled disappeared. "Oh. Couldn't you make on exception-"
As he spoke, Catherine climbed up on the bed and, standing with her back
to him, hiked up her skirt to reveal that she wasn't wearing any panties
at all. The sight of her bare ass, the fact that she hadn't been wearing
underwear the whole night and he'd never realized - it all caused Jeff
to lose his voice as all of his thoughts were overwhelmed by animal
lust. He unzipped his fly and pulled out his stiff cock. He jumped up on
the bed and, wrapping his arms around her waist, he penetrated her wet
pussy from behind. Catherine let out a pleasured gasp as she fell to the
bed. Jeff pounded himself into her, her cunt consuming his dick like
some ravenous beast. He pumped himself into her as she loudly fought for
breath and, when she could speak, begged him to fuck her harder and
harder. Jeff kept pounding into her until he heard her scream out in
climax and he felt his juices explode into her.
"Oh God, Jeff..." she said.
He rolled off her and ran his hand through his sweat matted hair.
"Oh Jesus," he muttered under his breath, "I love you, Joey..."
SHIT! He sat up and looked over at her, lying on her stomach and still
breathing hard. Had she heard him? Oh fuck....
"God, Jeff..." she gasped again, "I love you."
He kissed the back of her head and said, "I love you, Catherine."
Suddenly, she jumped out of the bed and ran into the hotel's bathroom.
Cursing, Jeff fell back onto the bed. Why had he said Joey's name? He
loved Catherine. He wanted to fuck Joey but he wanted make love to
Catherine...fuck...and now, she was in the bathroom...pissed....
Suddenly, he heard the sound Catherine sucking on her inhaler. Relieved,
he smiled.
Asthma attack.
He was safe. She hadn't heard Joey's name. She wasn't mad.
She was just having her after sex asthma attack.
15.
While Jeff was accidentally gasping her name, Joey London spent her
Valentine's Day with a blindfold over her eyes. Matt had her sit in an
uncomfortable wooden chair while he tied her hands behind her with rough
twine that cut into her skin and hurt and aroused her at the same time.
He made her spread her legs so he could stare up her skirt and her
flaming red panties. When he ordered her to piss on herself, she did so
and listened as he jerked himself off, high on his power. And as he
hissed, "You're a fucking cunt, aren't you?" in her ear, she wondered if
a rent-free apartment was really worth having to endure this bullshit.
And after he lightly slapped her a few times, he proceeded to rip off
her blouse and, using scissors, he cut the straps off her purple bra,
allowing the cups to fall free from her tits. He sucked on her nipples
like a newborn baby and then held her close and cried as he told her she
was the first woman he had ever loved.
"I love you too, Matt," Joey whispered back, "Now untie me."
To her relief, he actually did so and was actually gentle as he caressed
her in their bed. He went to sleep resting his head on her right boob
and she ran her hands through his hair and actually found herself
envying Catherine Anderson - even if she wasn't living a life of
adventure, at least she had a halfway stable boyfriend.
Up until a few months ago, Joey London would have said she had no
interest in stability, that she enjoyed pushing every limit, whether it
be fucking another woman or letting some stranger shoot heroin into her
veins. Just recently, she would have said that if she was going to have
to die eventually, she might as well die when she still was a hot piece
of ass.
But as she looked down at the rope burns on her wrists, all she could do
was mournfully say, "You can't keep living like this, Joey. You can't."
She looked down at Matt and said, "I'm sorry, Matt."
He started to snore.
16.
Catherine and Jeff took a shower together and then lay in bed and
cuddled. She fell asleep with her arms around his neck, her nude body
pressed into his. It was the way they had both always fantasized about
falling asleep together except that Jeff couldn't sleep. He couldn't
stop thinking about how he had nearly said Joey's name. Joey London had
been on his mind ever since that first night at Bari's. He loved
Catherine but Joey - JESUS! What was wrong with him?
Something in Joey London's eyes. There was a sadness there and for some
reason, that always drew Jeff in. He wanted to discover where that
incredible sadness was coming from and he wanted to be the one to help
solve it.
Finally, after two hours of trying to fall asleep, Jeff gently slid
Catherine's head off his chest and gently lay it onto the pillow. He
heard her mutter loving words in her sleep and felt like shit.
He got out of bed and quickly dressed. He needed to walk outside.
He needed to think.
17.
"FUCKING BITCH!"
Jeff heard the rough, male voice coming from a red pickup truck parked
out in the motel parking lot.
"Its not my fault!" a girl's voice shouted back.
"SHUT UP! I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!"
The passenger side door to the truck opened and, as Jeff watched, the
Goth Girl from outside the theater, dressed in her trademark black
dress, fell onto the hard pavement. A rough-looking, bearded man with a
pot belly stepped out after her and stood over the Goth Girl. The zipper
of his jeans were down.
"Fuck you!" the Goth Girl yelled.
"YOU CUNT! YOU FUCKING CUNT!"
Suddenly, the Goth Girl yelled, "HELP!"
"SHUT UP!"
Jeff quickly walked towards the two, yelling, "Hey!" as he approached.
The man looked at Jeff and said, "This doesn't fucking concern you..."
"What the Hell's going on?" Jeff demanded.
The Goth Girl stared up at him - her face streaked with tears of black
mascara.
"He said he'd give me fifty bucks to suck his dick," the Goth Girl said,
"but he can't get it up."
"Shut up, you cunt!" the man snapped. Then, to Jeff: "I suggest you move
on, buddy. This is between me and her."
"Its not her fault you can't get it up," Jeff replied.
"You looking to start some shit?"
Jeff shrugged. "Maybe."
The two men glared at each other as the Goth Girl remained prone on the
cement, slowly managing to hold back her sobs.
Suddenly, the man's fist came forward. Jeff ducked out of the way and,
as if he was in a dream, he felt his own fist make contact with the
man's nose with a loud crack. The man staggered back, holding his bloody
nose.
"YOU BROKE MY FUCKING NOSE!" the man shouted.
Jeff stared at him in shock - how the fuck had he pulled that off.
Finally, Jeff said, "Unless you want me to do worse..."
"I'm calling the cops!" the man cut him off.
"Go ahead," Jeff smirked, "I'm protecting a young lady. You're the poor
impotent bastard who has to pay to get a blow job."
"Fuck you."
Still holding his bleeding nose, the man climbed into his truck and sped
away.
The Goth Girl slowly stood up and looked over at Jeff.
"Jesus," she said, "how did you do that? How did you break his nose?"
Jeff looked down at his hands - they were stained with the man's blood
but they weren't shaking with rage or nerves. They were dead calm.
"I don't know," Jeff said.
The Goth Girl stared at Jeff and then suddenly looked away. "Listen,"
she asked, "I'm hungry. Can you buy me something to eat?"
Jeff kept staring at his hands - he barely heard her voice.
The Goth Girl pleaded, "Please?"
Jeff looked up at her. "Why were you with him?"
"I need the money, okay? Please, man - I'm hungry."
Jeff looked at her. The Goth Girl's eyes were so sad.
"What's your name?" Jeff asked.
"None of your business-" she started.
"You want me to buy you food? Then you tell me your name."
The Goth Girl looked down at the ground and then back at Jeff. "Lenore,"
she said, "Call me Lenore."
Jeff nodded. "Well, Lenore - let's get some food."
18.
There was an open 24-hours International House of Pancakes across the
street from the motel. Jeff and Lenore got a seat in the back of the
smoking section and while Lenore ordered and then ravenously devoured a
huge bacon, egg, and pancake breakfast, Jeff sipped from a cup of
coffee.
Finally, Lenore looked up at him and said, "So, is there were you start
preaching?"
Jeff smiled. "I'm just drinking my coffee."
"Save your breath," Lenore continued, "I've already had all the
preaching in the world. My father was a preacher."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah," she said, her voice unemotional, "He'd spend every Sunday
morning fucking people out of their cash and then he'd spend every
Sunday night just fucking me for free."
The coldness of her voice caught Jeff off guard and he said, "Are you
telling me the truth?"
"No, I'm making it up," Lenore said, her voice sarcastic, "I think its
really cool to pretend that my Daddy used to rape me."
Jeff didn't know what to say. "I'm - I'm sorry."
"Yeah, so am I," Lenore shrugged, "So, I started dressing like a ghoul
just to piss him off. Of course, all it did was turn him on even more.
Now, he had to discipline me and he loved that. So, I ran away from home
and now, I don't know who he's fucking."
"Don't you have anywhere to go-"
"If I have to choose between a) starving outside that fucking theater or
b) going back to that bastard-" Lenore paused and then said, "-well,
let's just say sometimes you say that sometimes a girl has to go with
Plan C - no matter how much she hates it."
"But Lenore-"
"Oh shit," Lenore said, standing up, "here comes the preaching."
"Just listen to me-"
"I don't want to listen to you. I mean, thanks for the food - maybe I'll
make it up to you someday if I can but that still doesn't mean I have to
listen to you preach."
"But-"
Lenore turned around and walked out of the restaurant.
Watching her leave, Jeff let out a discouraged sigh. Joey London, Lenore
- shit, there were a lot of sad people out there.
"You can't save them all, Jeff," he muttered, "Can't save them all."
19.
Three days later, the Mayland Community Theater held auditions for its
upcoming production of William Shakespeare's Julius Caesar. Directing
the play was a newcomer to the theater - a 30ish woman named Veronica Sanders.
Despite having thick brown hair and a really nice pair of tits, Veronica was
a self-proclaimed lesbian who saw the play as a terrific example of
man's naturally murderous and violent ways.
Neither Jeff nor Matt cared to audition for the sexy woman they called
"God's Worst Dyke Joke" but they were both talked into it by their
respective girlfriends. Catherine thought it was great to have a chance
to finally work with a female director. Joey thought Veronica had a pretty
nice ass and reminded her of the woman she had shared her first lesbian
"experiment" with. With Matt's continual demands, sometimes Joey thought
returning to the wonderful world of lesbianism might not be such a bad
decision.
To Jeff and Matt's strong irritation, neither was cast in a lead role.
Instead, they both got to play nameless conspirators who got to plunge
their knives into Caesar and then presumably died off stage. Jeff
thought the role was way too small for him to have to put up being
directed by a woman who continually talked about how much penises
disgusted her. Matt, however, was happy because he got to handle a real
knife for the role. Veronica Sanders wanted realism - hence, only the main
conspirators, the ones that would actually be seen killing Caesar, used
fake theater knives. The rest of the conspirators, Jeff included, were
wielding actual butcher knives.
One night, during rehearsals, Matt walked up to Jeff backstage and held
up his gleaming knife.
"You know what I just realized?" Matt asked.
Jeff looked over at the knife. "You do realize Freud would say that's a
phallic symbol?"
"I should play Norman Bates in the remake of Psycho. Not that Vince
Vaughn."
Matt laughed and then, yelling, "MOTHER, BLOOD! BLOOD!" he ran off to
terrorize a few stagehands.
Catherine got a much bigger role - she played Caesar's wife Calpurnia
and even got to cry on cue as she talked about her prophetic nightmare
in which Roman Citizen bathed in her husband's blood. Everyone agreed it
was the best performance Catherine had even given and Jeff had to agree.
He also had to agree that she looked damn good in a toga. Even Matt, who
tended to politely dismiss Catherine as a prude, agreed to that.
As for Joey London, everyone agreed she gave a terrible audition and
when she went home afterward, she actually cried. However, Matt would be
a major pain in the ass if she wasn't cast and so Veronica reluctantly gave
her a silent role. Joey played a prostitute who watched Caesar's murder.
While Jeff, Matt, and ten others pretended to stab Caesar, Joey and
another actress, Rachel Mattson, would cower in a corner while wearing
only sheer belly dancer costumes.
"T and A!" Veronica explained it one night to Catherine and Jeff, "Gotta give
the man what they want."
And while Catherine rolled her eyes, Jeff silently thought to himself
that maybe Veronica wasn't so clueless after all.
Every night, after rehearsals, Jeff and Catherine would go out with Matt
and Joey and have a few beers. (Well, Catherine didn't drink but the
other three more than made up for it.) While Matt made crude jokes, Joey
would be even cruder and when Jeff laughed, he was only barely aware of
Catherine glaring beside him.
After two months of rehearsals, they went into performance. Everyone in
the theater agreed it was one of their weaker recent plays but the
audiences seemed to love it. Especially on the third night when during
curtain bow, Joey London's left tit fell out of her costume and she
smiled as she tucked it back in.
Afterward, on the way back to the apartment, Catherine said, "She did
that on purpose."
Jeff laughed. "You're being paranoid. You think she's actually flash
half of Mayland on purpose?"
Catherine looked over at him. "What is it you guys see in that whore?"
Jeff shrugged. "Maybe that she only looks like a whore. Inside, there's
something else."
Catherine didn't respond back. Needless to say, Jeff Stern didn't get
any that night.
20.
On the next-to-final night of the performance, Catherine stayed in the
girl's dressing room after the end of the show. A small room, the walls
were lined with mirrors and counters for placing makeup. A door on the
left wall led to a small bathroom. Catherine always felt strange in that
dressing room - it was so small and far away from the stage that it made
her feel like she was in a different building and usually, it scared
her. But tonight, she had other things on her mind. She waited until all
the other actresses had changed and left and then she slipped off her
toga and stared at her body.
She couldn't wear a bra with the costume so she was nude except for her
cream white panties. She hated wearing white panties. First every girl
wore white panties, it seemed. Second of all, she had extremely dark
pubic hair and she could always see the shadow through the material and
the vulgarness of it made her feel dirty. But, any other panties with
that white toga would have been visible to the audience so she wore the
white panties and hoped no one looked at her crotch.
She stared at her body. She wasn't ugly. She wasn't some super model
with an eating disorder but the fullness of her curves suggested a
ripeness, as if her sexuality was some piece of fruit just waiting to be
plucked. In many ways, Jeff had plucked that fruit - he had been her
first lover and had even kept his head when she panicked at the sight of
blood running down her inner thigh. He could be gentle, even tender but
he could also be wild whenever she felt like a good pounding fuck. Oh
yes, she had no illusions - often times, she and Jeff made love but a
lot of other times, they were fucking pure and simple.
But sometimes - sometimes she wondered if she could handle only one
lover for life. She was hot - she could attract other men and sometimes,
she wondered if she was assuming too much with Jeff.
Suddenly, she heard a toilet flush and Joey London stepped out of the
bathroom. She was wearing a black push-up bra and black thong panties -
nearly identical to the outfit that Jeff had given Catherine for
Valentine's.
Hmmm, Catherine thought, Jeff and Matt have similar tastes. Should that
worry me?
Joey looked at Catherine and said, "Wow."
Embarrassed, Catherine moved her hands over her full breasts.
"I thought I was alone," she said, looking around for her clothes.
"You have got a great body," Joey said, walking up to her. "Why do you
hide it?"
"I-I don't hide it."
"Move your hands."
"What?"
"I want to see your boobs," Joey smiled. She gently took Catherine's
hands and lowered them to her side.
Joey looked her over and said, "I wish I had tits like yours."
Catherine smiled, nervous. "Well, thanks..."
"Jeff's a lucky man," Joey said.
Joey then went over to a corner and grabbed a small orange dress. She
slipped it on quickly as Catherine grabbed her teal bra and slipped her
breasts into each cup.
Suddenly, she felt a soft hand on her back.
"Let me help you," Joey said, fastening the back of the bra.
"Uh, thanks..." Catherine said.
"Least a girl can do."
Joey smiled and then kissed Catherine's cheek. Catherine felt a rush of
excitement surge through her body.
"I'll see you later," Joey said before turning around and walking out of
the dressing room.
Catherine placed her hand up to her chest - her heart felt like it was
about to explode. Suddenly, she realized her panties were damp. She was
wet. Joey London had made her wet.
Wetter than she ever got with Jeff.
21.
As Joey drove back to the apartment (Matt had already headed back), she
allowed herself to fantasize. What would it be like - a threesome with
Jeff and Catherine? She wanted to fuck Jeff she knew that. She probably
never would because she would hate to lose his friendship but in her
mind, she sometimes imagined giving him everything Matt claimed
Catherine couldn't. But seeing Catherine in the dressing room - there
was something more to her and suddenly, Joey was very interested in
discovering just how much was waiting to burst out.
As she stepped into the apartment, her plan was simple. She would tell
Matt that it was over, load her stuff into her car, and then drive over
to Jeff and Catherine's and blow their minds.
However, as she opened the door, the first thing she heard was Matt
yelling, "SUCK IT, CUNT!"
Matt was nude in the kitchenette, his back against the refrigerator.
Joey's fellow Julius Caesar hooker, Rachel Mattson was also naked. She
was kneeling down in front of him and she had Matt's inadequate little
dick in her mouth.
"WHO IS YOUR FUCKING DADDY!?" Matt yelled.
"Matt?" Joey said staring at them.
Matt looked up and smiled. "Hey, babe - you want to join in?"
Joey stared at him. She had been planning to dump him, planning on a
threesome herself but those were her plans - he wasn't supposed to be
making plans of his own.
"FUCK YOU, MATT!" Joey shouted.
She walked out of the apartment, slamming the door behind her.
His cock still in her mouth, Rachel managed to ask, "Should I stop?"
"KEEP SUCKING, CUNT!" Matt screamed back.
Joey would be back. Shit, he thought as Rachel ran his tongue over the
head of his penis, where else was she going to go?
22.
When the phone rang, Jeff and Catherine were lying in bed together.
There was an awkward silence between them because they were both
wondering what it would be like to fuck Joey London.
Luckily, the phone rang. Jeff said, "I'll get it!" and jumped out of
bed. He ran downstairs and answered on the fifth ring.
"Hello?" he said.
On the other end of the phone, he heard a woman sobbing.
"Hello?" Jeff repeated.
"Jeff, this is Joey..."
"What's wrong?"
"I'm sorry - I didn't know who else to call."
Jeff was quiet for a minute and then said, "What did Matt do?"
"I'm at the theater, Jeff. Could you please come down here?"
"Yeah, sure-"
"Come alone, okay?" She was still crying, "I mean, don't even bring
Catherine, okay?"
"Yeah, I'll come alone," Jeff said, "I'll be right there."
"Okay."
Joey hung up.
Jeff yelled upstairs, "Catherine, I have to go the theater!"
He heard Catherine get out of bed and soon she was standing at the top
of the stairs.
"Why?" she asked.
Jeff hesitated and then said, "Joey's in trouble."
"Hold on," Catherine said, "I'll come with you."
"She asked me to come alone."
"Jeff-"
"Catherine, I promised."
As Jeff left the apartment, Catherine Anderson, the hot
honorary-if-not-actual virgin of the Mayland Community Theatre, muttered,
"Fuck."
23.
When Jeff arrived at theater, it was a few minutes past midnight. He
parked in the alley behind the theater and as he got out of the car, he
quickly looked around to see if Lenore was around.
She wasn't. Nobody had seen her since that night Jeff had bought dinner
for her and a part of him hoped his kindness had made some difference in
her life.
"JEFF!"
Jeff turned to see Joey London standing in the open back doorway of the
theater. Her curly brown hair was a tangled mess and her face was
tracked by tears. However, she was wearing a small orange dress that
showed off her figure. As Jeff walked over and gave her a friendly hug,
a flash of a fantasy of him sticking his huge cock in her wet pussy
flashed through his mind.
Jesus, Jeff, he thought as he hugged her and felt her body press against
his, control yourself.
"Come inside," Joey said.
He followed her into the theater. The door closed behind them.
24.
They went to the girl's dressing room and Joey hoisted herself onto the
counter and told Jeff what had happened. As Jeff listened to her, he
attempted to nod sympathetically but he soon realized that every time he
looked down, he could see, between her parted thighs, her black thong
panties - the same type Catherine refused to wear for him.
As Joey finished her story, she started to cry again and said, "And you
know what's really bad?"
"What?" Jeff asked, wishing he didn't have an erection.
"I was going to do the same thing to him," she said, "I'm no better than
him."
"Yes, you are, Joey," Jeff said, "Matt never deserved you."
"No, but I deserve every Matt Welsh out there!"
"Joey-"
"Face it, Jeff, I'm a whore!"
Jeff placed his hands on her shoulder. "You are not a whore."
"Everything Catherine says about me is true."
"What?"
"I know what she says. I know what every girl in the world says. And
they're right."
He wrapped his arms around her back and held her head to his chest.
"They're not!"
"Why are you so kind, Jeff?" Joey asked.
"I'm not that great-"
"Yes, you are. Catherine's very lucky," Between her tears, Joey actually
laughed.
"Do you believe I envy her? I'm jealous of her - who would have ever
guessed?"
She laughed again. Jeff laughed with her and then suddenly, he felt her
lips kissing his neck.
"Joey-" he started.
"Please, Jeff-" she said, kissing his chin.
"Joey, I can't-"
"Please, I just want to know what love feels like."
He looked down at her and then, almost as if in a dream, he leaned
forward and kissed her parted lips. She rolled her tongue into his mouth
and ran her hands down his back, finally grabbing his butt and pulling
him close and suddenly, Jeff felt like he was about to explode.
"Oh, Jeff..." she said as he nuzzled her ear.
"Oh, Catherine-" he replied.
She let go of his behind and pushed him back.
"You really love her, don't you?" she asked.
Jeff kept his hands on her shoulders, not replying.
"I'm sorry, Jeff," Joey said, "I'm sorry I ever tried to steal-"
Suddenly, he lunged forward and kissed her hard on the mouth, snuffing
out any words in her mouth. She tried to squeal his name as she vainly
hit at his shoulders, trying to push him off her.
"Jeff, no..." she said.
He shifted the full weight of his body onto hers and she fell back onto
the counter, her skirt hiking up enough to expose her tiny panties. As
he continued to roughly kiss her neck, he ran his right hand over
struggling thighs. Finally, he grabbed the waist band of her panties and
tried to yank them down.
She screamed, "NO, JEFF, PLEASE!"
"SHUT UP!" Jeff yelled. He was going to fuck her because he wanted to
fuck her, because she had nearly lost him Catherine, because she had
spent months fucking tempting him and now she thought she could just
blow him off.
He continued to pull at her panties as she tried to grab his hands and
pull them away from her sex. She continued to bed as he bit into her
neck, tasting her flesh and as she begged him for mercy, he could feel
his cock, as huge as it ever had been, pressing against his jeans,
almost begging to be plugged into her wet hole...
Joey managed to get one knee up and hit Jeff in the groin. As Jeff
yelled in pain and shock, Joey managed to roll off the counter. She fell
to the floor, banging her forehead as she did so. Dazed, she struggled
to stand up even as she heard Jeff, breathing like an enraged beast,
forcing himself back up. The back of her skirt had flown up, revealing
the black thong disappearing into the smooth contours of her ass. She
felt Jeff slapping her ass and instinctively, she ran for the open
doorway.
As she went forward, Jeff tripped back to the floor. Underneath one of
the counters, as if left there as a sick joke, was one of the knives
used to kill Caesar. Jeff grabbed it and then jumped up. Joey was nearly
towards the doorway and Jeff suddenly felt more adrenaline than he had
ever felt in his entire life pumping through his body. He jumped up and
just as Joey reached the doorway, he placed his hand over her mouth and
roughly spun her around. Her back hit the wall with a dull thud as he
quickly closed the dressing room door.
Joey's eyes were wide like a frightened doe and she stared down at the
knife Jeff was gripping in his hand. Tears ran down her cheeks.
"Jeff, please, no..." she said.
Her pleading made him harder. Jeff stared at her, not a shred of remorse
in his usually kind eyes.
"Please don't rape me," she begged.
Jeff continued to stare at her. Finally, he stepped forward and placed
the blade of the knife to her neck.
"Please, my uncle raped me," she sobbed, "Please, I can't go through it
again..."
Jeff stared at the blade against her neck. With one quick movement, he
could kill her. He liked that.
Finally, he said, "I'm not going to rape you."
"Please, Jeff - I'm sorry. If you just let me go, I'll leave town
and..."
"Take off your dress."
"OH, GOD, PLEASE!"
Jeff leaned forward and spat in her face. "If you don't take off your
dress in ten seconds, I will kill you. I will slit your throat and I
will fuck your corpse."
"Jeff..."
"DO IT, YOU FUCKING WHORE!"
Still sobbing, she reached behind her back and unzipped her dress. She
shrugged it off her shoulder and then stood in front of Jeff in her
black bra and panties.
"Please...oh God..." Joey's entire body was quivering.
Jeff looked her over and then said, "The rest."
"GOD, NO! DON'T RAPE ME! PLEASE - I'd rather you kill me-"
"I'm not going to rape you, Joey." A strange smile came to Jeff's lips
and suddenly, his once handsome face was evil and twisted. "I just want
to look at you."
"please..."
"I want to see you. Let me see you and you can go. I promise."
Slowly, Joey slipped off her bra and then her panties. There was none of
her usual sultriness, just defeat and fear but the defeat and fear made
Jeff's heart race. He looked over naked body - at the small but firm
tits and the auburn triangle of pubic hair. Joey attempted to place her
hand over her sex but Jeff slapped it away.
Jeff reached out and touched her. He moved his hands over her body,
squeezing her breasts and her clit. While he shoved his right hand
between her thighs, making her jump, he used his left to squeeze her
nipples until she squealed in pain and closed her eyes, obviously
praying for an escape. Jeff kept squeezing until he saw her eyelids
start to flutter.
Quickly, he placed his hand behind her head and roughly shoved her down
to the floor. She hit the floor with a thud and lay still as tears
streamed from her eyes.
Quickly, Jeff undressed. Naked, he knelt down and placed the knife to
her right cheek.
"Spread your legs," he said.
"Oh please..."
"NOW!"
Joey spread her legs. Jeff's cock twitched at the sight of her compliant
body.
"You close them and I'll kill you," he said.
He clenched his fist and punched her in her right eye. She cried it in
pain as the eye swelled shut and her legs quivered. Jeff pressed the
knife against her throat and said, "Keep them open, bitch."
He grabbed her hips and pulled her to him. He rammed his cock into her
terror-dry pussy and immediately started pumping as she continued to
cry. As he fucked her tight pussy, Jeff dropped the knife to the ground
and placed his hands around her throat and, as he continued to pump into
her, he imagined squeezing her throat until her windpipe collapsed. He
imagined watching her struggle for breath before suffocating. He was
lying on her back, taking her from behind, fucking her the way he always
wanted to fuck Catherine, like a beast without any worry about what was
right or respectful. She and her tight little body were all his.
As he rhythmically pumped into her, he yelled, "Matt ever fuck you like
this!?"
She continued to cry. Jeff felt himself starting to cum and he pumped
even harder as it gushed into her pussy. Joey cried out - no words, just
a desperate plea for it all to end.
After Jeff came, he lay on her body for a few minutes.
Between sobs, Joey said, "You promised you wouldn't rape me."
Jeff pulled his limp dick out of her and said, "I lied."
He stood up and, leaving her on the floor, he walked over to the mirror
and looked at himself. Slowly, it dawned on him. He had fucked Joey
London. He had raped her. He was a rapist. When he was doing it, it was
like he was in a dream and now as he stared at himself, he realized it
was real.
He had held a knife to her throat and raped her.
He was an evil man.
In the mirror, he saw Joey slowly standing, her face red and bruised.
She stumbled around the dressing room and finally, found her underwear.
As she slid up her thong panties to cover her violated sex, Jeff turned
to her.
"I'm - I'm sorry," he said.
She stared at him. "You bastard! You raped me!"
"Joey-"
"I begged you -" Suddenly, rage replaced her fear. "You're not getting
away with this! This isn't happening to me again!"
Jeff stared at her and realized she was right. He had committed a crime
and it didn't matter that he was a talented actor and writer or that he
was usually a good man or that he loved Catherine Anderson. He was a
rapist and he could go to jail.
"YOU BASTARD!" she shouted.
Jeff looked over at the knife, lying on the floor. Joey followed his
gaze and when she saw the knife, she lunged for it. Suddenly filled with
another rush of power, Jeff lunged after her, knocking her to the floor
as he grabbed the knife.
They both stood up at the same time and stared at each other. Jeff,
nude, with his knife. Joey, in only the black thong underwear Catherine
wouldn't wear, her eyes darting wildly around the room looking for
escape.
Suddenly, Joey sprinted for the door. Almost on some suppressed impulse,
Jeff thrust the knife forward and shoved the sharpened blade into Joey's
pierced belly.
Joey opened her mouth and squealed in pain, as her hands reached for
Jeff's hands, trying to grab the knife's handle. Jeff looked down. Up to
the hilt, the entire blade was in her belly. Joey opened her mouth and
coughed blood that landed in specks on Jeff's face.
Slowly, she stepped back as the bloody blade slipped out of her stomach.
A river of bright red blood flowed down her legs, forming pools on the
dressing room floor. Slowly, Joey placed her hands over the gaping wound
and looked at Jeff, her eyes no longer scared or angry but confused.
"Why?" she gasped.
She fell onto her back and struggled for breath as blood continued to
bubble from her stomach. Jeff sat on her chest, his dick momentarily
dipping into her blood.
She stared up at him.
"please..."
Jeff brought the knife blade down to her throat.
She started to gasp, "N---"
With one quick slice across her neck, he silenced her. He watched as
blood started to run out of the narrow wound. She placed her hands on
her neck and her eyes rolled up into her head.
He heard her gasp one last thing. "I love you, Johnny."
Jeff stared down at her. "Who the fuck is Johnny?"
Her eyes slowly closed and her arms fell limply away from her throat. An
odor spread through the room as Joey's bladder released its contents and
she drew one last breath. Blood continued to trickle out of her mouth.
Jeff stood and stared down at her sprawled body.
She was dead.
He wasn't just a rapist. He was a murderer.
"Oh crap," he muttered.
25.
His mind worked quickly, never questioning why he was murderer, just
accepting that something had to be done. Quickly, he went into the
bathroom and washed off Joey's blood. He got dressed. He knew the
theater still had a shovel from last season's production of Hamlet and
he ran to the scene shop and grabbed it.
As he turned to leave, he saw a Polaroid camera sitting on a counter. It
was the camera used to take back stage cast pictures.
Jeff stared at it.
He was going to bury Joey. He knew he should convince himself she had
left town, that this was all just a dream. But deep down, in a part of
his soul that scared him to death, he knew he didn't want to forget. He
grabbed the camera and seeing it still had film, he ran back to the
dressing room.
Joey was still lying on the floor, nude but for black thong panties
soaked with urine and blood. Blood was still running from her stomach,
her throat, and her open mouth. Her eyes, puffy and bruised, were still
closed. Thank God for that ... he knew there'd be no way he could bury
her if she was looking up at him.
Jeff stood over Joey's bloody corpse and took a quick picture. The
picture shot out of the Polaroid, hitting the bloody floor. Jeff picked
it up and though he knew he needed to be getting rid of the body, he
watched the picture develop. He watched her corpse slowly come into
focus and it filled him with a sick thrill.
Once he had the picture, he took another from a different angle. After
that one developed, he quickly grabbed the camera, pictures, knife, and
shovel, and ran out to the back alley. He put them in the back of his
car and looked around for witnesses. Seeing none, he reentered the
building.
He picked up Joey's limp body and could almost feel the heat in her body
being replaced with cold death. Holding onto her shoulders, he pulled
her out to the alley, leaving behind a trail of her blood as he did so.
He'd have to return and clean.
Shit, what had he done?
What would Catherine think of this-
He forced any thoughts of Catherine from his mind. He loved Catherine.
He wasn't an evil man - he loved Catherine Anderson.
As pulled Joey's body into the alley, he heard a tiny gasp and footsteps
running away. Jeff dropped the body and turned to see a petite figure
with long black hair, wearing a transparent black dress, running for the
street.
Lenore.
SHIT!
Before he knew it, Jeff was running after her. He caught up to her just
as she stepped out onto the deserted street. He grabbed her by her hair
and pulled her back to him. He spun her around.
She stared up at him. "Please," she said, "I'll do anything."
Jeff could barely hear his own hard voice say, "Suck my dick."
Quickly, Lenore knelt down. Jeff unzipped his fly and pulled out his
limp penis.
"Make it hard and you might live," Jeff said.
Lenore took the head in her mouth and slowly sucked the shaft into her
mouth like some sort of vacuum. She curled her tongue around his
hardening cock, running the tip over his balls while her saliva massaged
his erection.
Jeff closed his eyes and suddenly, he could see the scene in his head as
if it was in some sick film that Matt would have liked. A dank alley.
Lenore sucking his dick while Joey's violated corpse lay close behind
them...
In the distance, he heard a police siren. Suddenly, Lenore pulled away.
Jeff opened his eyes and quickly put his erection back in his jeans. He
could still hear the sirens but didn't know where they were...
"SHIT!" he spat.
He looked down at Lenore. She was still on her knees, her eyes now
looking like the eyes of a scared 16 year-old.
"Please..." she started.
Jeff was so sick of hearing that word. He grabbed the back of her dog
collar and, in one solid motion, smashed her head into the theater's
brick wall, knocking her out.
He let go of her and her petite form collapsed onto its back. She was
lightly breathing but had a huge, bloody gash across her forehead.
Still hearing the siren, Jeff grabbed Lenore's form and dragged her over
to the car. He put her in the passenger's seat. Quickly, he popped open
the trunk, grabbed Joey's body, and shoved her in. He closed the trunk
and ran over to the driver's seat.
The sirens were in the distance now.
They weren't after him.
Yet.
26.
Mayland was a country town. Even though Texas was being rapidly
industrialized, there was still a great deal of open space out there
that few people ever bothered to see. Jeff had never been more thankful
for that fact than that night.
He drove out of Mayland, getting on the highway and eventually exiting
onto an access road next to miles of empty plain. Jeff pulled over to
the side. He got out and looked around. No one was around.
First things first. He opened the passenger's side door and pulled
Lenore out. She muttered incoherently in her unconscious state as he
laid her out in the field. He then ran back to the car and got the knife
and camera.
He returned to Lenore's body and looked down at her. She was twitching,
probably struggling to wake up. Her body was underdeveloped but she was
just a kid really. Eventually, Jeff guessed she would have been as hot
as Joey London.
"Well," he said, "at least she can be as dead."
He laughed and then stopped.
Why was he joking? Jesus Christ, what was he doing?
Jeff knelt down and raised the knife above Lenore's chest. He wanted to
sacrifice her like in some cheesy horror movie but he couldn't bring the
knife down. He wanted to see her.
Her black dress was fastened in front with rusty spider-shaped buttons.
His hands trembling with anticipation, Jeff quickly unbuttoned the dress
and slipped it off. She was lying before him in just a black slip that
she probably considered to be very gothic. She had a slim body. Flat
chested but some girls developed later than others. But Lenore wasn't
unattractive.
Using the knife blade, Jeff quickly cut the straps of the slip. He held
her up and let the slip fall off her body. He then lay her back down and
stared down at her. She wasn't wearing a bra and her tits were tiny with
nipples that stood up like bullets. She was wearing blue cotton panties
and Jeff suddenly smiled. Catherine owned a pair just like those.
He grabbed the camera and took a picture of her, nude except for her
panties and a dog collar. Sounded like a New York art show in the
'80s...
He laughed again and stopped. He was a murderer and a rapist and perhaps
a child molester. He shouldn't laugh.
Suddenly, Lenore's eyes flew open. She realized she was undressed and,
wildly looking up at Jeff, she gasped, "Please, don't rape me!"
Jeff smiled. Just like Joey.
"Oh please..." she begged, her undeveloped chest heaving.
Jeff's smile disappeared. He didn't have the strength to rape her.
"I'm not going to rape you," he said, raising the knife.
She opened her mouth wide and screamed as he brought the blade down into
her blue panties and the cold, bloody metal tore into her teen age
pussy. Howling like an animal, Lenore clasped her hands over her bloody
panties and tried to roll to the side. Jeff grabbed her and rolled her
onto her back.
"OHNONONONONO! PLEASE NO!" she screamed as he brought the knife down
again and the blade went through her hands and caused more damage to her
cunt.
"SHUT UP!" Jeff screamed at her, suddenly enraged by her begging and
fighting.
She thrashed her head wildly. "IT HURTS! OH GOD, IT HURTS!"
He reached down and yanked her hand away from her bleeding cunt. He
brought the knife down again, hoping it was slicing straight through her
clit. When it entered her and her screams again pierced the night like a
coyote, Jeff didn't pull the knife out. Instead, he slashed upward,
gutting her from her crotch to her sternum. Blood sprayed from her
wounds, drenching his face as her howls of pain became gurgling moans.
Jeff yanked the knife out of her and watched as Lenore's eyes glazed
over. Her body slowly stopped moving.
She was dead.
He was hard.
Quickly, he pulled down her panties and stared down at the shredded
remains of her pussy. He pulled out his heavy cock and plunged into the
bloody hole that was once her crotch. Her warm blood seemed to greedily
pull his penis into her wound and, within a few minutes, he came inside
her corpse.
Jeff pulled out and quickly put his blood covered dick back in his
jeans. He grabbed the camera and took another picture of Lenore, gutted
like dead game, her crotch in bloody tatters.
He went back to the car and got the shovel. It took him two hours to dig
a grave he felt was deep enough and far away enough from the highway.
His body covered in dried blood and sweat, Jeff wiped his forehead and
then went over to Lenore's body.
Her petite corpse was light and easy to drag. Quickly, he rolled her
body into the grave and turned to get her clothes.
And Jeff Stern, rapist, murdered, necrophile, threw up.
It was lying near the grave - a circling, thick cord of intestine. It
must have fallen out of Lenore's body as he dragged her. Quickly, he
kicked it into the grave. He then gathered both girls' clothes and
dumped them in, effectively covering Lenore's body.
He went and opened the trunk. Joey's bloody body, now the bluish color
of death, waited for him and again, Jeff realized he was a murderer.
"Please, God," he said, closing his eyes, "Let this be a dream."
He opened his eyes. He wasn't in bed with Catherine. He was out in the
middle of nowhere, staring down at a corpse.
Quickly, he pulled Joey's body out of the trunk. It was stiff now and he
had to stop to catch his breath twice on the way to the grave. When he
did reach the grave, he shoved Joey in. She landed on her stomach and
Jeff took one last look at that perfect ass wearing that forbidden
thong.
He got the camera and took another picture.
He then filled in the grave.
27.
When Jeff finally got back to the theater, it was nearly five in the
morning.
Catherine would be worried.
SHIT!
What if she had come down to the theater? What if she had seen the
blood? Fuck, what if she was waiting in there - what would he do? Kill
her? Kill the woman he loved?
"You're not an evil man," he assured himself, "This will never happen
again."
He got out of the car and nervously walked up to the alley door. He
stuck his head into the theater and shouted, "Catherine!?"
Silence.
Please, he prayed, please, God, don't let her be here.
He entered the building and searched around - no sign of Catherine. As
far as he could tell, nobody had come by. Quickly, Jeff went to the
janitor's closet and got a mop and a pail of water. For a half hour, he
mopped up the pools of blood that Joey had left behind. He washed up in
the bathroom and then stole a pair of jeans and a tee-shirt from the
costume room. He put them on and threw his bloody clothes into the
dumpster outside.
Then, he left.
28.
When he arrived home, Catherine was sitting in the living room.
"I was worried," she said, "Where have you been?"
"Talking to Joey," Jeff said.
"For six hours!?"
Jeff told her about Matt and Rachel and that Joey told him about the
time her uncle had raped her. Finally, he explained, he could tell she
was suicidal so he took her down to the IHOP across the street from the
Royal Motel and got her some food.
Catherine stared at him. "And then what happened?"
Jeff sighed. "She got in her car and she left."
"What do you mean left?"
"She left town. She said there was nothing left for her in Mayland."
"Jeff, are you telling me the truth?"
"Catherine, I will never lie to you. You know that."
"Please, Jeff - just be honest. Did you - did you fuck her?"
The question caught Jeff off guard. "No, of course not. I love you,
Catherine."
Suddenly, Catherine started to cry. "She's so much prettier than me,
Jeff!"
"You're beautiful."
"No, I'm not-"
He hugged her and held her close as she cried.
"I love you, Catherine," he said.
29.
It shocked Jeff how easily things worked out. Lenore, of course, no one
missed. But Joey - she still had one more performance of Julius Caesar
left. That afternoon, after a brief nap, Jeff called Veronica Sanders and told
her Joey had left town.
On the other end, Veronica cursed and said, "That fucking whore."
Luckily, since Joey's role was nonspeaking, her absence wasn't a major
crisis.
Jeff then went to Matt's apartment and told him Joey had left.
"Fuck!" Matt replied, "What am I going to do with all that bitch's
shit!?"
In the end, Matt ended up donating all of Joey's clothes and other
possessions to the Goodwill.
Two weeks after the final performance of Julius Caesar, Matt and Jeff
got a cup of coffee and Matt said, "Well, it had to happen. I'm leaving
Mayland."
"What?" Jeff said.
"I'm going to go down to Dallas," Matt said, "Stay with some friends of
mine."
"What about your apartment?"
Matt smirked. "I'll break my fucking lease. I gotta get out of this
town."
"Why?"
"Its obvious," Matt said, "Mayland women are fucking nuts."
30.
As for Jeff, he kept the pictures of Joey and Lenore hidden in a
notebook. Some nights, if Catherine wasn't in the mood, he'd masturbate
to them and in his mind, replay every scream of terror and every useless
plea.
And some nights, he'd look over at Catherine sleeping next to him and
realize all he had to do to kill her was place his pillow over her face
and smother the life out of her.
But he knew he wouldn't.
Or at least he hoped he wouldn't.
Sometimes, if the urge got too much, he'd slip out of bed and go into
the bathroom.
He'd stare at his innocent face in the mirror and Jeff Stern would ask,
"Are you an evil man?"
 
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