Split (1)

train · 122k rows

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50,677	Sam	COMEputer from Loveline (solo)	You've just turned off your computer after reading all of the messages. You decide it's time for you to go to bed. As you climb between the cool sheets, I can tell what you're thinking. I know what you're thinking. You can't see me, but there I am, standing in the shadows, watching and waiting. As you turn off the light, I wait patiently for you to go to sleep. My heart is pounding wildly against the thin fabric of the gown that flows over my naked body, covering all that is there that will make you stiff. I want you. As I watch you drift into a half-sleep, I long for you. I move from my hiding place slowly across the room to the bed, which you lie upon. Your breathing is even and slow. I gently nudge against your bed, shaking it only enough to make you turn over to gaze at me with half-sleepy eyes. My hands slowly move over the roundness of my breasts, down to my smooth stomach, caressing my hips, my thighs. As you watch me, you wonder how I have gotten here to where you are, but you really don't care. I gently crawl on top of the bed just next to you. My fingers rest gently upon your lips as I gaze into your eyes; you know what I want. My fingers move from your lips slowly to your neck as I bend to kiss you with my soft, full lips. Softly and gently, my tongue enters your mouth as your arms come and enclose me, pulling me towards you. I can feel your heart beating against my chest wildly. I break the kiss only to slide my lips to your neck so they may lick and pull on the skin where I feel your pulse beating rapidly. My fingers caress your chest, my nails tracing a pattern from one nipple to the other. Gently flicking it just enough to feel your cock stiffen against my thigh. My mouth soon follows, leaving a wet pattern with my tongue as I move down to your stomach, slowly. My eyes steadily watching you watching me. As I kiss the insides of your thighs, your cock is positioned directly in front of me, standing there waiting for my mouth to attack it. But I won't! I want you to feel everything. I want you to feel everything that is being done to you. My tongue slowly and wetly licks little circles, pulling your balls into my mouth, so warm, so wet. The sensation is about to drive you out of your mind. I encase your cock with my lips, starting from the bottom of your shaft, moving very slowly upward to the very tip, and back down again. Your hands are clutching the sheets as I see beads of sweat start to fall from your forehead. Your eyes are closed. Your hips moving up and down, trying to force your cock into my mouth. Sticking out my tongue firmly, I purposely and slowly lick the hard vein underneath your cockhead, flicking it back and forth as you beg me to take you inside my warm, wet mouth. And I do. Swirling my tongue around the head, which is very tight and very purplish in color, I clamp my lips firmly just around the head, moving my head back and forth. As if I were sucking on a baby's bottle, I increase the suction, causing you to plead for release. Not yet, I want you to go insane. I push my head down just a bit further so I can rub the sensitive head against the roof of my mouth, pushing your cock deeper until you're just at the back of my throat. In one swift motion, I have you deeply imbedded in my mouth as my tongue wetly swirls all around your hot, throbbing prick. Your head is thrown back, the moans of pleasure which come from your throat are nothing compared to what I feel happening within my own body. I gently remove your cock from my mouth. It's so swollen, glistening with my saliva. It looks as if it's about to burst! I lie on top of you, kissing your forehead, eyes, nose, your lips, dangerously sucking your tongue. I know you want to come, and you shall, but not yet. Your mouth finds my nipple, sucking it between your teeth. Ooooh, your mouth feels so good on me. You're holding me so tight, running your finger along my very wet slit, in a position where I couldn't move if I wanted to. You start to tease me with your cock, putting it on my clit, rubbing it back and forth as I beg you to put it inside me, but you don't. You want me to beg you, you want me pleading half-crazed from the pleasure I feel. I rub my pussy against the head of your cock, letting you feel my wetness, moving back to capture just the head, if not all, into my hot, steamy, lust-filled hole. You push your hips up, and I feel your cock head spreading me apart, entering me. My pussy contracts involuntarily as you force your way in. Your fingers digging into the cheeks of my ass. I cry out, "Ooh, your cock feels so good sliding into me." As I feel you enter more and more until you're snug and deeply inside my pussy. My fingernails dig into your chest as I rotate my hips on top of you, around and around, slowly grinding. My mouth slightly open as I cry out from your deep thrusts. We stare at each other as if in a hypnotic trance. Your movements become more aggressive, your cock is soaked. My cunt juices dripping down the sides onto your balls. You pump me faster as I move on top of you, my rhythm matching yours. Your hands roam my body, squeezing my tits, pinching my nipples while my fingers play with my hard, swollen clit. I use my pussy to suck on your cock, squeezing it, pulling it as you buck under me wildly. I lean over only for a moment to whisper into your ear very softly, "Fuck me, Gary, don't hold back." With one swift motion, you turn me over onto my back, throwing my legs over your shoulders. Your cock savagely rams into me. Your body is moving faster. Your cock sliding in and out, grinding into me with animalistic passion. Moving deep within me, your cock swells even more. I wrap my legs around you, pulling me closer, deeper. We're both going mad, so mad we lose all self-control. Your breath coming in heavy gasps as if some unknown entity has entered your body to take complete possession of you, driving you insane. Then you feel it, we both do. You feel the deep, ferocious tingling in the pit of your stomach. As I grind my cunt up into your groin, your teeth are biting into my neck. Your balls ache from being so tightly filled with come. I feel them slap against my ass as I reach down and slide my fingers over their smoothness, tightness. Your whole body starts to tremble, as you feel a sharp tingling chill shoot up from the base of your spine. My clit is burning as if on fire. I beg you, "Move your cock faster, Gary. Ohhh, yes, that's it... harder, ram your cock into me. Move it faster! Slam it into me. Tear my pussy apart with your cock!" You sound like a wild animal. Your moans, groans, and gasps become louder and more fierce as I feel your cock twitching and I feel your cock twitching and jerking inside my cunt. Our bodies shake, tremble, and become lost. We are no longer people, only two mad, crazed beings begging for release. Your body spasmodically jerks on top of me and mine under you, as we are bathed in the flash of white light, which hits us both. Our heads spinning as the last moments of our pleasure finally subside. You look up as I slowly emerge from your bed, giving you one last kiss very deeply. I want you to remember. You close your eyes and drift off into a very peaceful sleep as I go back into the darkness from whence I came. THE END	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/Book_Shelf_C/COMEputer from Loveline (solo).txt
50,690	Anonymous	The Conference Ball	You know how it is the day before a conference starts. People hang out in the bar and the lobby. I met some friends, and noticed this tall, quiet man who was with them. We sort of watched one another as we engaged in a six-way conversation. I thought he was cute, but then I think MOST men are. I am generally just a looker. Finally, someone said, "Oh, Jane, this is Len Josephs." "Len! Wow! I've always wanted to meet you!" We shook hands, but wound up hugging one another. Len and I had exchanged some mail years before, and admired one another's work. Instantly, I wanted to take him to bed. It was quite a shock because I don't normally feel that strongly about someone seconds after meeting him. It was literally lust at first touch. Since we had friends in common, we went to dinner together. Now, I'm not the sort of woman who picks men up. It simply had never happened before. I'd had the occasional extra-marital lover, but it had always been with a friend, not with someone I'd just met. I fought with myself all during dinner. How obvious could I be with him about the way I felt? Could I actually say to him, "I'd love to make love with you."? While Len and I wound up sitting together at dinner, and while he made me laugh a lot, he seemed to back off when my knee rested against his. Well, I knew he was married, so maybe he didn't fool around. Still, I felt like someone had shot me full of speed. I shook like crazy, and felt about ready to fly off the chair, just looking at him. After dinner, he went back to his room. I went back to my room. I paced around a lot. He'd given his friends his room number, and I'd memorized it. I walked to the elevator, went to his floor and stood before his door. I raised my hand to knock...then turned and returned to my room. I guessed I wasn't the sort of woman who can knock on a man's door, without a reason other than to ask "Wanna fuck?" Suddenly, I realized I had a book he'd expressed some interest in at dinner. I took the book and practically bolted back to his room. This time, my hand connected with the door. When he opened the door, he had a genuinely shocked expression on his face, but I talked over it. "I'm sorry if I disturbed you, but I thought you'd be interested in seeing this." I said, going into his room without further invitation. "Oh, no problem. I was just resting." We sat down on the beds and looked at the book together. Eventually, I sat on the bed beside him. As we looked at the book, we sat closer and closer together. Finally, he took my hand and squeezed it hard. "I'm going over to Lori's party for a while. Do you want to come back later?" "Oh, yes! I don't normally do this sort of thing, but I really want to come back." "I don't want to stay over there for TOO long." "Me neither." We stood up and kissed. As hot as I felt, he felt hotter. But it didn't show on his face the way it had to be showing on mine. I kept feeling myself turning red in front of him. "What about precautions...." "Well, I'm not too concerned. My period ended yesterday..." "I'd better go get some condoms." I felt severely embarrassed, being a college-educated, Planned-Parenthood trained woman. At least if I was on the verge of behaving irresponsibly, I had the good luck to find someone who WASN'T. "You're absolutely right. Sorry about that." "It's OK," he kissed me again, his tongue brushing my lips. I dashed back to my room, slipped into something more comfortable (yet socially acceptable), and went to Lori's room. Many old friends were there, but I couldn't engage in coherent conversation. "You'd changed your mind," he said sadly. "God no. I just can't sit still. Can we go now?" "Yes." We walked to the elevator, relieved that there was no one in it. I took his hand, but we dropped hands as soon as the door opened on his floor. No one was in the hall either, so we walked to his room together. We were both nervous. I ran to the bathroom. He turned on the TV. "Can we turn it off?" I asked, turning on the light across the room. "I don't mind." I turned the set off and joined him on the bed. We kicked off our shoes and laid back, just holding hands and watching each other at first. His hands were large and bony and very strong. I suppose I have something of a hand fetish, because just stroking his hands really turned me on. As we kissed, his tongue filled my mouth, and I sucked on his tongue until my lips were sore. He played with the straps of my dress, reaching his hand into the front to play with my bra. He took off the dress, but had a little problem with the bra---it was one of those strapless affairs with innumerable hooks. He took the bra off and suckled hard on my breasts. I lay back on the bed, caressing his neck and beginning to moan in pleasure. I finally sat up enough to help him off with his clothes. I had as much trouble with his sansa-belt slacks as he'd had with my bra earlier. But he helped out, and I found him hard and hot. He lay on top of me, his cock rubbing against my underpants. My clit began trembling against his heat. He reached inside, stroking my clitoris. "You're so wet," he murmured. "I'm not usually THIS bad..." I said, running my hands up and down his back. My underpants were literally dripping from six hours of thinking about him and a half hour of foreplay. Already, waves of pleasure were streaming through my body. I remembered some of the net jokes about "If this is just foreplay, tonight is going to kill me." I wondered what my husband would think if I died in the arms of another man... I leaned forward and tentatively took his penis in my mouth. He was longer, but narrower than what I was used to. He moaned, working my underpants off. I sucked on him harder, feeling his cock get even hotter. He pushed me off, laying me back and spreading my legs. "Aren't you going to go down on me?" I asked watching him grab for his condoms. "I wasn't sure if you wanted that." "Not want it??! Please, do!" He fell between my legs, his pointed tongue pushing hard against my clit. I became even wetter, some from his tongue, but mostly from my incredible rate of arousal. His tongue was very forceful, feeling more like a slick finger than a tongue. He licked me out, his tongue darting in and out of my vagina. Finally he rose, and put the condom on effortlessly. He knelt and slid very slowly into me, like someone using an iron poker to make a fire flare. I pulled him in tight, feeling about ready to explode. Very gradually, we moved together. I pulled my legs up to let him in ever further. We shifted around quite a bit, and I took some time on top, pressing my hips into his. An orgasm hit me so hard that my knees went weak, and I fell on my arms to avoid hitting him. We flipped over again, and he began pumping into me vigorously. He pulled up my leg and wrapped it around his shoulder. His face, usually so bland, positively glowed as I came again. I couldn't stop moaning. He finally came, rolling aside and stroking my belly. The whole lower half of my body spasmed, and I couldn't speak for a moment. "Same time, next year?" he asked. "Oh!" We held onto one another, giggling. "It's funny...that's the kind of lover I always wanted." I was amazed by how quickly he was ready to come again. I was certainly more than ready myself! As we made love again, every nerve in my body trembled. My body throbbed in utter pleasure. The experience reminded me of a very long weekend my then-boyfriend (now husband) shared long ago. We attempted to sleep together. He was far more successful than I. I found it impossible to sleep when I was tingling so much.I finally drifted off. When I woke up, I saw his eyes looking down on me. I was playing with his hair. "How are you?" He kissed me. "I'm tired...but terrific otherwise." I kissed him back hard, noticing that his penis was standing at attention under his pajamas. "Do you want to...?" "Hmmm..." He took off his pajamas. I took off my slip, he put on a condom and was inside me instantly. My orgasm built quickly, and I kept trying to muffle myself, worrying that I might wake up the folks in the next room. I sucked on his fingers, trying to quiet myself. When we were done, I clung to him. The notion of leaving him tore at me. But, I knew we both had roommates to consider for the duration of the conference, and various responsibilities. I kept telling him how wonderful he'd been, and he kept telling me how exhausted he felt. Finally, I knew I had to leave, so I kissed him goodbye and went to my room for a much-needed shower and a change of clothes. I ran into him often over the next week. I particularly remember joking with him in the bar the next night, with our respective roommates almost within earshot. That night, after being awake for nearly two days, I laid down on my bed as my roommate brushed her teeth in the bathroom. Just lying down made my whole body quake, as if he were laying beside me and taking me from behind. It was as if I was in bed with a demon. I don't think my roommate heard my sudden, loud moan. I bit my lips and shifted my position. It was so strange to feel myself coming without being touched, but then, the previous 24 hours had been pretty strange. Len and I never could work out a reunion that week. In some ways, it didn't matter. The night with him sent my body into what felt like a two-month orgasm. I could feel his cock slide into me, or his tongue move against my clit. I spent much of that week blushing. For two months, I couldn't make love with my husband without feeling Len. That was very frustrating, because Len and I could never be any more than long distance lovers. But after about two months, I approached love-making with my husband with renewed zeal, and started appreciating him again for the fine lover that he is. And Len? He turned out to be a terrific one-night stand.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/Book_Shelf_C/Conference Ball, The (MF, affair).txt
50,771	Richard Rivers	Yoko	Yoko busied herself in the kitchen, putting breakfast on the table for her husband and daughter. As usual, the family couldn't agree on anything. He wanted Japanese-style - soup, some of last night's rice with fish - while Michiko wanted oatmeal. Yoko added miso to the soup while keeping an eye out so the oatmeal didn't burn. All she wanted for herself was black coffee. From the kitchen window, she could see the Bay Bridge rising out of the fog. Somewhere below, Jonathan was making his way towards her, shouldering through the crowd, damp wind whipping the tails of his overcoat as he trudged up a hill. Or perhaps he was sitting in a coffeehouse reading a book, engulfed by steam, cigarette smoke, and the damp mist that billowed in every time the door opened. Yoko's thighs tingled where the rough, curly hair on his legs would rasp when they fucked. Her hand absently slid along the countertop. Hard muscles under smooth skin. Behind her, Michiko was saying something. Yoko knew she should have been listening - something about school, ballet class - but her thoughts were divided between Jonathan moving inexorably through the city towards her and the steaming pots on the stove. After breakfast, Yoko occupied herself seeing her husband and daughter out the door on time with everything they needed - briefcase, lunchbox, last night's homework. When the door closed behind them, the apartment suddenly became quiet. After pouring herself a cup of coffee, she sat at the kitchen table watching the steam rise up from it, coiling as it disappeared. She wanted to think about Jonathan and the things they would do together that afternoon, but her husband came to mind instead. When had he stopped kissing her goodbye? Certainly, long before they had come to America. Beyond that, Yoko couldn't say. They met while she was still in college. He was a brilliant young professor who also happened to be handsome and single. As his graduate assistant, Yoko found herself in the enviable position of working with him closely, but while all the other girls flirted with him, she hung back. She never considered herself smart or beautiful enough to be worthy of him, and she certainly didn't want to seem foolish, acting the way the other girls did. It surprised Yoko more than anyone when he began to take an interest in her. Unwittingly, she had hit on the perfect strategy for attracting his attention. Before they married, their relationship was full of passion and excitement. As new lovers, they found it hard to keep away from each other and they often had sex at work or in other semi-public places. For Yoko, the fear of discovery added to the intensity of their lovemaking. In his office, with students waiting just outside the door, his hands were all over her; on her breasts, her thighs; hot kisses on the nape of her neck, running up the back of her legs. After pulling off her panties, he carried her to his desk where they made love with all their clothes on. Knowing someone might have knocked or come in at any time, Yoko had the most intense orgasms of her life. Sometimes he pulled her into a closet or a stairwell, pushing her to her knees with one hand while undoing his pants with the other. At first, Yoko was unsure what to do with an erect penis literally shoved in her face, but she put her mind to the task and soon improved her skills. She went so far as to rent pornography on her own time in order to see what those girls did to please a man. After careful study and regular practice, Yoko felt confident she could perform as well as any of them. Once they married, things changed, although on the surface all seemed well. Yoko had no complaints about their love life even if much of the spontaneity had gone out of it. Spontaneous sex felt silly when they had a comfortable bedroom to go home to. After graduating, she chose not to pursue a career because Michiko was already on the way; they began to see less of each other as her husband became absorbed with his career and she with caring for their daughter. Yoko couldn't help feeling left behind as his world expanded and hers contracted. They were no longer as close as they had once been, and in time, she began to wonder if he had found a lover. Moving to America only made matters worse. After her husband accepted the teaching position at UC Berkeley, Yoko found herself cut off from her friends and family. She hardly spoke the language, and her world closed in on her like the fog that so often descended on the city. Even though she lived in the midst of San Francisco, on the edge of a continent-sized country, it seemed to Yoko that her whole life had become compressed into the one tiny apartment. She felt trapped with her husband and daughter. In a short time, she became restless and unhappy. She resented her husband. Yoko hadn't been actively looking for an affair; she wouldn't have known where to begin. It happened unexpectedly, like a bolt of lightning out of a clear blue sky. At the end of the first term, her husband brought Yoko and Michiko to the department Christmas party so they could meet the people he worked with. Yoko felt ill at ease among so many jovial strangers. The casual way Americans treated each other made her uncomfortable. They called each other by their first names - even people they hardly knew. Keeping track of all the new faces proved difficult for her. Everyone looked the same, and their odd-sounding names flew out of her head the minute she heard them. Her husband made the rounds, introducing his colleagues one by one. Yoko paid no special attention to the man until Michiko pulled at her dress. "Mommy! He has a tail, like a horse!" Yoko quickly shushed her daughter, who was pointing and laughing at a man standing nearby. Although the girl had been speaking in Japanese, it was obvious she found his ponytail comical. Mortified by the girl's behavior, Yoko tried to think of the appropriate words for an apology, but she had already forgotten his name. To make matters worse, what little English she knew deserted her under pressure. The man smiled at Michiko, unconcerned with whatever the girl had said about him. He was tall, with broad shoulders and blond hair in the ponytail that had caught Michiko's attention. Yoko couldn't have imagined someone who looked more foreign. Sensing her attention on him, he looked up, and she found herself gazing into the most startling pair of eyes she had ever seen - gray eyes shot through with white, like waves on the ocean. She stared into those eyes, unsure what to make of them, captivated. There was something hard and steely just below the surface, out of place with his friendly expression; as if the light behind them had been blocked - the sun passing behind a cloud. Yoko felt the shadow fall over her. She shivered. Unaware of his effect on her, the man asked Yoko to translate what Michiko had said. He spoke in a friendly tone, but the look in his eyes made Yoko so flustered she had to turn to her husband to have him explain it.He made a joke about his daughter's behavior and his wife's poor command of the language, and everyone laughed. For a moment, Michiko became the center of attention, while Yoko remained silent, feeling humiliated. Glancing up at him, she noticed the man's eyes had never left her. When he saw her looking at him again, he gave her a little smile. Over the next few weeks, Yoko could not get the image of the man's eyes out of her mind. She found excuses to drop in at the University whenever she could, so that she might run into him again. His name was Jonathan, and their first meetings were tentative. They had few words in common, but Yoko knew they both felt that something unspoken had been communicated between them. When their eyes met, her breath caught in her throat, and she blushed like a schoolgirl. From his body language, she knew Jonathan felt something too, but he was holding back, keeping her at arm's length; her husband was a colleague of his, after all. Jonathan always treated her politely and with formality, although Yoko noticed his eyes looking her over with an unsettling intensity when he thought she wasn't looking. Yoko knew her husband's lecture schedule, and she often arranged to be on campus when he was busy, leaving her free to be alone with Jonathan. When they were together, they did little but pass the time, as if they both knew they were only delaying the inevitable. One day, he gave her a tour of the laboratories, telling her the English names for the equipment she already knew in Japanese. Another time, he bought her coffee in the cafeteria, and they sat, not saying much, looking out the window. On a sunny afternoon, they had a long, torturously slow conversation on a bench near the clock tower. When she was alone, Yoko thought about him often, but she found it odd that she could not say whether she found him attractive or not. She could scarcely even remember what he looked like when she tried to conjure up his image. Tall, blonde, an exotic-looking foreigner - but those were only words. The man was something more. Those eyes - haunting gray eyes she could never forget - they were impossible to read; soft as clouds, but with the hardness of steel in them; laughing eyes, but colored with the shadow of sadness. One night, Yoko dreamed of those eyes roaming over her body, penetrating her clothing, laying her bare. She could feel them, like feathers, or very soft fingers turning her over and over until every part of her body had been touched. Yoko came awake in the middle of the night, unable to move, her mind racing as the eyes continued their gentle probing. Part of her pleaded silently for them to stop, but that part of her was slowly overwhelmed. She felt like she was drowning, surrendering herself to the warmth of the water, its softness, letting it flood into the last part of her with the will to resist, dissolving, until she felt herself becoming one with it. The eyes sent out shoots, like tendrils that moved over her body; her face; her breasts and thighs; her clitoris. Gently spreading the lips to her vagina, they entered her and swelled, until she was full with them, bursting from them. As Yoko lay beside her sleeping husband, a shocking orgasm swept over her, lifting her through the air, shuddering, arching her back until she collapsed on the bed, her chest heaving and every muscle in her body vibrating. The next morning, she took a long hot bath, put on a new dress, and got into her car. Driving on the wrong side of the road the way Americans did made her uneasy. She rarely took the car out, and when she did, she hugged the curb lane, going well below the speed limit. That morning, Yoko felt the need to be daring. Crossing the bay bridge, she rolled down her window and let the cold, foggy air stream into the car. She drove fast, changing lanes, passing cars on either side. By the time she reached Oakland, her hair was a tangled mess whipping across her face, and she was laughing. On campus, she spent half an hour walking outdoors, trying to calm down and making sure her husband would be in his lecture before she entered the department. When she got there, she found Jonathan's door closed. Yoko stood in the hall, staring at the frosted glass window, wondering whether or not to knock. She began to lose her nerve. What if everything she imagined about Jonathan had been wrong? It could have all been wishful thinking on her part. Maybe he had only treated her with kindness because of her husband. And what about her dream? That's all it was, a dream; it meant nothing. Yoko stayed by the door, going over everything they had done together, everything he had said, looking for a sign that would tell her she wasn't crazy for feeling the way she did. Yoko had never seduced a man before. She had always been the object of amorous advances, never the instigator. How do men do it, she wondered? How do they time the leap from friendship to something more intimate? Up until now, everything between her and Jonathan had been so proper, so polite. She sensed there was something more, or at least hoped there was, but the only way to find out for certain would be to make the leap, and she was beginning to feel as if she didn't have the courage to go through with it. There were footsteps in the hall. Yoko wanted to turn away from the door before anyone saw her waiting there, but before she could move, Jonathan rounded the corner. His eyes were down, examining a sheaf of papers in his hands, and he didn't notice her. On seeing him, all her doubts vanished. Yoko knew she wanted him; she would find the courage to do whatever she needed. Jonathan didn't look up until he had nearly run into her. "Oh, hello," he said, in a voice that did not sound the least bit surprised. "My, you look nice." He looked her up and down. "Do you have a lunch date?" Yoko shook her head. Her throat felt so tight she didn't trust her voice. "Well, do you want to come in for a minute?" She nodded again. Inside his office, Jonathan went to the desk and began placing the papers he had been carrying into various folders, ignoring her completely. Yoko stepped just inside and pressed her back up against the cold metal doorjamb while she watched him work. It took him a long time to file away his papers. She wondered if he was doing it on purpose, waiting for her to say something, to make the first move. She gently closed the door behind her, and he looked up when he heard the soft rattle of the glass. "Yoko, what is it?" She still had not said a word to him. Looking into his eyes made her forget all her English. If she tried speaking now, she would lose her nerve again, and she would end up talking herself out of it. She had to act before she thought about it any more. In two quick steps, she was pressed against him. They kissed with such passion that her entire body felt as if it had melted into his. Yoko had never experienced such a kiss. Jonathan's arms clasped her tightly about the shoulders, pressing her breasts into him. He was so much taller she had to stand on tiptoes in order to reach his lips. She felt light in his arms, as if she might float away if he let go of her. They kissed until her lips felt thick and bruised. She wanted to please him even more, to satisfy him completely. Breaking away from the kiss, she sank down, growing heavy in his arms until she was kneeling before him. When she touched his belt, he protested. "Yoko...wait. What are you doing? The door...it's not locked..." But she didn't stop, didn't look up at him or say a word. She didn't want to talk now. She was tired, so tired of wrestling with this strange, unnatural language, never knowing what to say, always using the wrong word. There was only one thing she wanted to do with her mouth, her lips, her tongue; it would be soundless, so easy and direct, with no possibility of misunderstanding. The only sound would come from him when she made him cry out in ecstasy. Jonathan continued protesting as she undid his belt and trousers, but his hands had given up. No longer trying to lift her by the shoulders, they were resting lightly on the back of her head, stroking her hair. When she freed him from his shorts, Yoko knew he wasn't going to resist her any longer. His erection stood straight out, the sure sign of his arousal. She touched his balls, soft and heavy. Lifting them gently with her fingers, making him shudder. Yoko knew she could surprise him with her skill. For all he knew, she was a shy Japanese housewife with little experience. He would have no way of knowing that she had worked hard learning how to please a man in this way. She decided to show him, but not all at once. Starting slowly, tentatively, as if she hardly knew what to do, she teased him; first licking the underside of his shaft, then taking just the head into her mouth. When her lips closed around him, she could feel the blood rushing in, making him swell. His legs twitched - he wanted to drive himself deeper into her, but he held back, not wanting to force himself on her, and Yoko continued to tease him until the twitching in his thighs and pelvis had become a constant trembling throughout his body. She looked up at him, but his gray eyes were hidden, closed tightly; his head had rolled back. Closing her own eyes, she slowly, very slowly, took him in. Jonathan was bigger than her husband or any man she had been with before. At first, Yoko did not know whether she could take all of him or not. "Relax, relax, think of nothing," she told herself as she went down on him. The tip of his cock felt hot as it slid over her tongue. When it nudged the back of her throat, Jonathan gave an involuntary start. For an instant, Yoko panicked, thinking she couldn't handle him, but the voice inside her returned: "throat relaxed, mind blank," just the way she had taught herself."Yoko...oh my god..." she heard him say as her nose burrowed into the hard muscles of his belly, but he sounded far away, and her concentration remained unbroken. When she had all of him inside of her, she remained very still, holding him as long as she could before she needed to take a breath. There was a soft tremor shaking his body and the heavy pulsing along the entire length of his erection. A long drawn-out sound vibrated in his chest, an 'Ohh' that could have been 'Nohhh' or 'Yohhhkohhh'. Yoko touched him just behind his balls and felt the pulse of his ejaculation an instant before her mouth filled with the warm, salty sweetness. She swallowed what she could and let the rest fill her mouth, spilling out onto her chin. She thought of something she had learned long ago: "The softest thing in the world defeats the hardest thing in the world." Who had said that? Buddha, Confucius? No, it was probably someone else. Yoko had no idea anymore, but she had made it her mantra when she first met her husband. Hers was to wait, to give, to yield, to contain, and then this moment was hers. She held Jonathan's cock in her mouth, felt it softening, giving up the last sweet drops. He wanted to pull away, but she held him firmly in her lips, feeling the dying throbs of his orgasm, knowing that now he was hers. Yoko took a sip of coffee, still warm, thick with cream. Jonathan was on his way. Hers was to wait, to give, to yield, to contain. She pressed her thighs together, imagining the warm slap of his ejaculation inside of her. Everything of his she could not hold would run down her leg in a sticky rivulet. In the beginning of their affair, Yoko enjoyed the feeling of being in control. Although she was pleasing Jonathan regularly, she knew he wanted more - to make love, to fuck her - but she held back, only giving him what she had given the first time. Finally, she relented, to her own desire as much as his, and she let him carry her to his desk where they made the metal legs chatter and jerk across the hard tile floor, not caring whether anyone out in the hall might hear. Eventually, they began to meet in more comfortable surroundings - his apartment, one of the fancy hotels downtown - and they made love in every way imaginable. They wanted more and more of each other. Yoko began to feel afraid, knowing it couldn't last this way forever, not sure she could live without him. She wanted him in her own bed. He argued against it, saying it was too risky, but she prevailed. Yoko wanted to feel her knees, her elbows pressing into the floor through the thin futon when he took her roughly from behind; to inhale deeply the fragrance of the tatami mat with her face pressed into it. She arranged so that on certain days Jonathan could come to the apartment when her husband was away teaching. They had enough time to make love for several hours in the late morning and early afternoon before she had to pick Michiko up at school. Yoko always straightened up very carefully, making sure no signs of their activities were left behind. No one suspected anything, she was sure of it; nevertheless, Yoko became uneasy, tinged with sadness, feeling the end with Jonathan was near. She did not discuss it with him, and did nothing to stop him from coming to her house even though that would have been prudent. She wondered if on some level she wanted for them to be caught, for everything to come out in the open. She felt poised at a crossroads, waiting for something to happen. It would be difficult. She imagined the scene when her husband discovered them - coming home early one day, bursting through the door; she could imagine so many ways that it would happen. And although she might never see Jonathan again, at least her life would be her own again; there would be no more secrets, no more hiding. When Jonathan arrived, he was cold and damp after spending an hour walking by the waterfront. She made him tea and then they took a stinging hot shower together. She loved the feel of his body; his strong arms; the knotted muscles in his back; his hard buttocks. She knelt and took his cock into her mouth and held it, feeling the warm water pelt her forehead, his warmth inside of her. On the futon, neither of them felt in the mood to be aggressive. Perhaps it was the weather. Feeling sleepy, they began a slow, languid fuck. Yoko brought her knees up so that he might penetrate her more deeply. His thrusts were deep and regular, moving the entire length of himself in and out of her. Grasping him with her thighs, feeling the rasp of his rough skin, the hard muscles beneath coil and uncoil, Yoko timed the rhythm of her body to his. Jonathan's head lay buried in the pillow beside her head. As his thrusts became more urgent, she could hear the deep muffled groan that came out of him. His motions were spasmodic and trembling. His cock knifed in and out of her until she felt his whole body go rigid. Yoko shuddered as she felt the throb of him coming inside of her, then the warm, ticklish flood of his release that followed. He breathed heavily, his chest pressing her deeply into the mat, and Yoko stroked his back, his shoulders and hair, soothing his trembling body. She felt herself swimming up from the depths. She didn't want to break the surface, but there was no helping it, and it made her sad that this moment of bliss had to be broken so soon. She hadn't come, but that wasn't what drew her up, out of her dreamy state. The realization came to her gradually, like the awareness of the dawn to one who has lain awake all night; so that when she turned her head she was not really surprised to see Michiko, her daughter, crouched in the doorway, eyes wide, and a look of childish fascination on her face. Yoko looked into her daughter's eyes. She felt helpless and vulnerable, naked in front of the girl, trapped by the softly heavy slab of Jonathan's body. He was still inside of her, oozing the last warm drops of his come. He hadn't seen the girl; his face lay buried in the pillow. Yoko closed her eyes when she heard the soft patter of feet running in the hallway. Jonathan still hadn't heard. She clasped him more tightly, pulling him into her. He thrust weakly and she felt herself gripping the dying hardness, trembling as if to wring the last warm drops from him. The front door closed softly as Michiko went out. Yoko came then, and her orgasm seemed to go on forever. Jonathan regained some of his hardness and began fucking her, gently riding her wave with his ebbing strength. Yoko did not tell him what had happened. While he showered and dressed, she checked the apartment to see if her daughter had really gone. When he was ready, they parted as they always did, with few words. Only after he had gone and she was standing alone at the kitchen sink did Yoko realize that the sun had burned away the fog. Below her, the water of the bay glistened brightly.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/Book_Shelf_Y/Yoko (MF, Adultery) .txt
50,795	Pete Ferrer	Your First 3way (MFF)	You drive in your car early this morning, thinking: What's it going to be like today? How will he do me? What taboo will he make me break? Where in my own passion will he take me? You feel excited, you always do before seeing him. You think to yourself, "He must plan for days before seeing me." Every time you see him, it's like getting on a ride - a wild, unhindered, crazy, and sometimes scary sexual ride. You smile to yourself because your pussy's already wet, and no matter how scary it gets, you can't stay away from him. As far as sex goes, you trust him more than any man, past, present, and most probably future. He's become your guide, your guide to the deepest recesses of your own lust. He has become sex to you, your most overwhelming passion. You feel your beeper vibrate - a chill runs through your body, he's ready for you. You got the room number, you drive a little faster, he's waiting and wanting, wanting what he always wants... you. You arrive at the Airport Executive Hotel, like so many times before, ready to fuck your man, ready to ride that ride, ready for me. I meet you at the door, and I kiss you wet and passionately. I touch you, your body, your breast, your ass, I touch your pussy through your skirt. To my surprise, you're already wet, you're already wanting, you're already anticipating, craving me, my body, craving my tongue and hard dick. I lead you to the bed, all the time kissing you, touching you, ravishing you with my mouth and tongue. I throw you down on the bed, down on your back, and I whisper in your ear, "Hold on, baby, I've got some surprises for you." I undress you, slow and deliberately. The material of your own clothes caresses you as I slide off your skirt and blouse. Your nipples harden as they meet the cool air of the room. I ease off your panties slowly, down over your ass, over your thighs, and down past your ankles. My face passes so close, so very close to your pussy, that I can feel the heat from that deep, wet hole. I lean over and gently, tenderly kiss that wet, warm, throbbing pussy of yours. You sigh, and your body trembles. You lie there now, naked and vulnerable. You see yourself in the ceiling mirror and think, "Today, whatever he wants." I reach toward the nightstand and produce a handful of silk stockings. Carefully, I take your hands and start to tie them to the bedpost. You let me tie you up - you always let me do whatever I desire. As I gently tie each wrist, all you can think about is that you want some dick, you want some hard cock now. Throbbing in your mouth, slamming over and over again into your wanting pussy or easing into your tight black asshole, you don't care, but you want it, you need it. While I tie you up, you can see my dick through my jeans... hard, rock hard. You want to touch it, kiss it, caress it, swallow it whole, feel it inside of you, but I continue to tie you up, occasionally touching you, touching your wet, throbbing, anxious pussy, but never sticking my fingers inside, always leaving you in need of the penetration you crave. When I finish, I stand back, I look at you, I circle the bed looking at you. I take off my shirt, and you notice I've been to the gym. My chest looks bigger, harder, shapelier. My arms look strong and big. My shoulders wide and hard. You do love muscles on a man. You want to reach out and touch my body, but you can't, you're tied up, helpless. You ask, "What are you going to do to me?" I smile at you, a smile full of mischief, a bad boy smile. I reach into my bag lying by the side of the bed. I take out a cassette tape, I place it in the player I brought and press play. You hear the unmistakable African drum beat of island dance music. The drums go right through you, filling you, caressing you, making you dizzy with passion. I return to my bag and slowly pull out a bottle of that strawberry lubricating jelly that I love so much. How many times have I smacked that cool jelly on your cunt and asshole? How many times have I smeared it on my hard black dick and fucked you for hours? How many times have you tasted it as I fucked your mouth. I lay the bottle across your stomach. You shudder a bit at the coldness of the bottle. I reach into the bag again and slowly pull out that big black... Extension, that's what you called it, this huge black cock thing. You look at it, you can't take your eyes off of it. It looks bigger than before. You flash back on how it felt inside of you, filling you, while I filled your mouth with my cock. My hard black dick of skin and muscle, moving in and out of your mouth, fucking your mouth, fucking your throat, fucking your entire head. All the time sliding the huge cock thing in and out of your wanting pussy, damn that was good. You almost cum now as I lay the cock thing on your stomach, like a surgeon preparing his instrument table. Suddenly, there's a knock on the door. I go to answer it. You're worried, who can it be? You hear a voice, a woman's voice, I seem to know her, still you're worried. I invite her in, now you're more worried. Why are you tied up? Who is this person? Why did I let her in? You see her for the first time, a black woman, a beautiful black woman with a muscular build and an exquisite face. She enters the room and looks at you, at your body, tied up and helpless. The first thing you notice is her skin color, it's beautiful, a little lighter than mine and so smooth and unblemished it reminds you of melted milk chocolate pouring out of a hot cauldron. You look over her body, she's taller than you, but not as tall as me, her legs long and shapely. She's wearing a pair of "Daisy Duke" shorts and a white tank top tee shirt. You scan her legs from her ankle bracelet, up to her full athletic calves. You follow the curve of her thighs, all the way to the roundness of her hips. You try not to look at her crotch, but you do. You're surprised to find that you're licking your lips in anticipation. Her stomach is flat, not muscular, but rippled just enough to be sexy, but it's her breasts that hold your attention. They're not huge, but they are large, large and perfect. Round and full, they stretch the fabric of her simple white tank top. You wonder how old is she? Who is this woman with the runner's legs and the tits of a seventeen-year-old? She smiles at you, and you notice her rich full lips and straight white teeth on a face dominated by two large, soulful almond-shaped brown eyes. She is, in a word... Gorgeous. You start to say something, but she places one finger to your mouth and goes "Shhh..." Her lips puckered as she "Shhh's" you, she leans her face over yours, removes her finger from your mouth, and you feel her warm breath on your face right before she kisses you. A shot of electricity runs through your body, you feel her lips - sweet, full, and soft against yours. As she kisses you, you feel the soft round curls of her shoulder-length hair on your cheeks, it turns you on. She whispers in your ear in a low, husky voice and an island accent, "You promise not to move, pretty woman." With one nod of your head, you surrender to her. She opens the bottle of strawberry lubricant and dabs some on her fingers. Placing the bottle to the side, she runs her finger across your parted lips. You taste the strawberry, it reminds you of me. Then, placing her entire finger in her mouth, slowly and erotically, she sucks it clean. She reaches toward your stomach again and picks up the huge black cock thing. She strokes it once or twice, then, holding it by the end, glides it up across your torso, from your freshly shaven pubic area to your sensitive breasts. You want to tell her how much you crave dick.Tell her about how much cock you've had and how much more you want, but you don't. Then with a sly wink to you, she places it aside. She reaches up to your hands and unties them. You had almost forgotten you were tied up at all. You notice my puzzled expression across the room. The woman looks at me and playfully sticks her tongue out at me. You notice how long and thick her tongue is, you want that tongue inside of you, you think to yourself. She leans over you again and looks down the length of your body. She runs her hand down your torso, from your breast, down to your pussy. She lightly touches the outside of your pussy, you're so wet, that's all she needs. Bringing her fingers wet with your juice to her mouth, she licks her fingers, hungrily. Her tongue almost too long to be real, it snakes around her fingers like it had a mind of its own. Again, she swipes her hand across your pussy, one finger finding its way between your moist and quivering labia. This time, despite your promise not to move, you rock your hips forward to meet the motion of her hand. She stares at you and holds her hand up like kids do when they imitate the spout in the tea cup song. She motions with her finger and I appear behind her. She brings her hand to my mouth and I take her fingers, my tongue licking, probing, sucking on her fingers wet and tasting of you. I hold her hand to my mouth and with my free hand, I reach around and cup her large firm breast. You see her back arch as she responds to my touch and rubs her ass against my crotch. She continues to stare at you, her eyes no longer soulful, now they burn with passion, passion for you, passion for me. She's a predator, this woman, a sexual predator, and we're her prey. She removes her blouse, her generous full breasts now in full view, her large, dark nipples hard and erect. I kiss her neck passionately. My hands running over her body in rhythm with the music, that driving, lustful music. She turns away from you and toward me. Her long tongue licking my chest and stomach. As she removes my jeans, you see my cock, hard, swollen, ready to burst out of its skin, the fat head moist and glistening in anticipation. With her back to you, she removes her shorts and panties, bending over as she does. You see her perfect black ass, the mounds firm, rounded and tight. Beneath the mounds of flesh, you see her clean-shaven, glistening pussy in all its wetness. You can't help it, you start to touch yourself. Touch your soaking wet pussy. Rubbing, massaging and controlling your own pleasure. She turns toward you and sees what you're doing. You use your free hand to hold your breast and suck on it. You stretch your tongue over your nipple. She sees the length and talent of your tongue and she is pleased. She pants, her eyes roll and her knees buckle slightly. You got to her, you turn her on. She recovers and smiles at you as if you've challenged her. She turns to me, grabs my shoulders and turns me slightly, so my right side now faces you. She kneels in front of me, my dick pointing into her face. Gently cupping my balls in one hand and holding my shaft in the other, she licks the glistening head of my cock, turning her head so she can see you and you can see her, showing off for you. You moan and your hands work rapidly on your sopping wet pussy. She opens her mouth, wide, then slowly guides the cock in. Your mouth mimicking the movements of hers, as your one hand massages your pussy and the other caresses your breasts. My hard cock glides in her mouth, deeper, deeper and deeper still. My pole disappearing in her moist and talented mouth. Her full lips inching down the shaft of my rippled muscle. The deeper down her throat she takes me, the deeper your fingers delve into your quivering, black pussy. She swallows my dick whole, her lips touching my pubic hair, her eyes on you. As she pulls back her head, it reminds you of a magic trick, as more and more dick emerges from the dark wetness of her mouth. You watch again as she swallows, this time faster, harder and deeper. Her head begins to bob back and forth, back and forth, faster and faster, harder and harder. You plunge four fingers deep inside of your craving hole, your mouth sucking on an imaginary cock of its own. Then she stops, her mouth leaving my dick completely. Her attention now focused on you. Suddenly, her face is over yours. She kisses you, kisses you hard. Her tongue searching, probing, overwhelming the inside of your mouth. Her hands working feverishly over your body, your hands do the same to hers. Her entire body, her breasts, her legs, her incredible ass, her gorgeous cunt, you feel it all, hungry for her, drunk in the sensation of her. She's on the bed now, one knee touching your crotch. You grab the back of her thigh and rub your pussy firmly on her leg, feeling her smooth skin and the firm muscles underneath. She kneels on the bed, moving you and her toward the center. Lifting your shoulders up so you're sitting straight-legged, facing her. She grasps the back of your head and places her magnificent, unbelievably firm tit in your mouth. You lick her large and stiff nipples with abandon, grabbing her breasts with both hands, massaging them, trying to stick them all in your mouth. With a firm hand, she guides your head from tit to tit. She starts to stand on the bed, all the time guiding your head across her chest, across her stomach, across her shaved pubic bone and finally, finally into her wet, plump, cherry-dark cunt. You're lost in the moment, lost in the music, lost in her body. What strikes you most is the heat radiating from her dark, rich pussy. It feels good on your face. You roll your face in the softness of the pussy. Feeling the warmth and wetness on your lips and cheeks. You get up to your knees. You want to eat her, and you want to do it right. Tentatively, your tongue probes the outer pussy lips, outlining the landscape of her vagina, exploring every fold, every flap, every curve of this sweet thing men (and now you) want. You start to enter her with your tongue, tasting the tangy sweet juice that flows from her. Your tongue probes deeper, feeling the fleshy walls of her pussy on the sides of your tongue, feeling the lips of her cunt engulf the sides of your mouth. Every turn of your head, every lap of your tongue, brings her more and more pleasure. Her grip on the back of your head tightens as you thrust and snake your tongue in her rich, plump and dark hole. "Go on, girl!" You hear me say, as she, this sexual predator, succumbs to your tongue and mouth. She moans as she pushes her pussy into your mouth and with her hand, your head into her pussy. You grab her ass. Smooth and round, her cheeks filling your palms and fingers with firm young meat, and you pull, you pull her hips toward you, till you swear your whole face will enter her. She lets out a gasp (she's cumming). Her knees bend, her legs weak (she's cumming). You feel her pussy contract against your tongue (she's cumming). She grabs your head with both hands ("Go on, girl") and every muscle in her body contracts, releases, flexes, contacts, releases, flexes for what seems like an eternity (you're cumming). You hold her, you feel yourself tensing (cum for me, Baby). You can hardly breathe (cum for me, Baby). You feel the rush, the overwhelming rush as your whole body screams ("Go on, girl"). You cum, over and over. Your body contorts, your muscles contract. ("Damn, girl") Suddenly, she pushes you, throwing you flat on your back, abruptly and forcibly she spreads your legs, exposing your freshly shaven pussy to her, me and the ceiling mirrors. She wastes no time at all, she buries her head between your thighs. Her tongue, that long wonderful tongue twisting, turning, darting, moving, digging, probing, deep, deep inside, lapping furiously outside, lapping like a Saint Bernard at a water dish, her head moving up and down, back and forth. You spread your legs wide. You want her in deeper. You're mad with pleasure. You see a dick, a hard wet dick near your face. You almost forgot, it's me, it's my swollen cock in your face. You take me in like a woman starved for a man. One hand between my thighs, holding my ass, moving my hips, making your mouth and throat feel like they're being fucked, being fucked real damn hard. Your other hand holds her head, making her face fuck your cunt. Our rhythms alternate, she's in, I'm out, she's out, I'm in, in, out, out, in. The dance music drums now seem louder, closer, all around you, inside of you. She buries her tongue deep, deep inside of you, you swallow my cock deeper then ever before. You feel like gagging, but you don't, instead you squeeze your throat around my cock, massaging it with your throat, fucking me with your throat ("Go on, girl!"). I pull out of your mouth. My cock hard, swollen, stiff. I walk behind her, I lift her up, pulling her away from your pussy. I lay her on her back, her head at the foot of the bed. I tell you to straddle her face, while facing me. I stand by the foot of the bed kissing you, as you ride her face, ride her tongue. I kiss you deep, you feel my tongue, my love and my approval. I work my way down to your breasts, working them, sucking, licking, kissing them. Lower and lower my tongue moves till I reach your beautiful black, craving pussy. Her tongue still deep inside of you, my tongue rapidly flicking your clit. Our tongues dance joyfully in and around your pussy. Our tongues meet inside that fiery, moist hole of yours. Playing, dancing, fighting, whatever they're doing, it feels incredible. You start to buck like a mustang that's never been broken. Her hands and mine meet on your ass, our fingers interlaced as we hold on, trying to keep our mouths working in your hot and tasty cunt. I stop and tell you to turn around, you turn still straddling her face. I say "Eat her, Baby, eat her while I fuck the shit out of you."You lean forward, your face again in that juicy, plump dark pussy of hers. Your tongue immediately goes back to work. You feel her tongue on your pussy, what a tongue! Then she stops. Even though you can't see it, you know she's sucking on me, wetting my dick for your pussy. Then you feel it, my cock - hard, fat, stiff, and throbbing. It parts your pussy lips and inches into you. A little at a time, first the head, then slowly the shaft inch by inch till I enter you, enter you completely. Her tongue, wet and warm, on your clit as my pole rams you, over and over and over again. Each stroke harder than the one before, harder, faster, again and again. You feel dizzy (you're cumming). You swoon with lust for her cunt and my cock. She thrusts her hips up, her pussy pressing against your face (she's cumming). Your tongue becomes possessed, it moves, thrusts, circles like it had a mind of its own (you're cumming). I'm slamming my cock in you now, SLAM. My thighs smack your ass, as my dick dives in your hole. SLAM, the smacking of skin, the feeling of cock stabbing and filling your wet, deep, wanting cunt (you're cumming). You tense, your muscles contract, you're cumming, baby. She's cumming, baby. I'm cumming, baby. You want to see it, you want to see your man cum. You stand up, throw me down on the bed, like a woman possessed. You go straight for my cock, taking it in your mouth, stroking it with your hands (you're cumming). She follows your lead and joins you. Both of you lick and suck my bursting cock (you're cumming). You take turns feeding each other dick (Oh baby, I'm cumming). You stroke its entire length, my thighs tighten (Oh baby, I'm cumming). You watch my cock, it twitches, it jerks, it explodes (I'M CUMMING). My hot cum shoots, spurts, and oozes out (I'M CUMMING, BABY). On your faces, on your tongues (Cum with me, babe). You catch some in your mouth (Cum for me, baby). You lick some off her lips (Cum, baby, cum for your man). Both of you lick it off my cock and balls (CUM, BABY, CUM). You rub my dick on your face and hers and feel yourself cumming over and over and over again. The warm juice flowing from your body, soothing you, overwhelming you, draining you till you lay there exhausted, fulfilled and for the first time since you last saw me... satisfied. We lie there for what seems like for hours. Feeling each other breathing, hearing each other's hearts beat. The smell of our mingled juices aromatic and soothing. Finally, I stand up and go to the bathroom. You look at her, but don't speak, you don't need to, both of you understand each other. I return from the bathroom and notice the lubricant, silk stockings, and huge cock thing lying on the night stand, unused. I pick them up and look at each with that "Hey, I've got an idea" look in my eyes. You stare at me for a while and finally ask; "What are you thinking?" I smile at you, a smile full of mischief, a bad boy smile...	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/Book_Shelf_Y/Your First 3way (MFF).txt
50,820	Luthor	Reverend's Little Angel	Young Angel Tucker stepped gingerly out of the hot shower and quickly reached for her favorite fluffy pink bath towel. Today was the first day of the new fall semester, and the last thing on earth little Angel wanted was to begin her sophomore year at Saint Catherine's High by showing up late. As the pretty blonde tenth-grader began to pat-dry her firm, glistening torso, she glanced critically at her steamy reflection in the full-length mirror mounted on the wall next to the tub. "Darn!" she muttered under her breath as she gazed mournfully at the blurry image her healthy, tan body cast in the foggy glass. Angel had always been proud of her figure. She was quite the tomboy, and the years of gymnastics and other sports had given her young body a tone and definition that most girls couldn't help but envy. Her firm, rounded calves flared invitingly into a luscious pair of muscular, yet feminine thighs. Her slender, almost boyish hips tapered smoothly into an amazingly tiny waistline, and her taut, solid ass had been drawing stares since she was a ten-year-old. These things, however, were not what was causing Angel's distress as she flexed her wet form in front of the mirror this morning. No, she was still proud of her long legs and athletic build. It was Them! No matter what position the cute little blonde assumed, or what angle she viewed herself from, Angel could not escape their overwhelming presence. Them! Her BIG BREASTS! Angel sighed dejectedly as she examined her bulging chest from every angle, hoping to find some way to make the huge orbs swaying obscenely from her tiny frame seem somehow smaller. She still couldn't get used to the fact that these gigantic mounds of flesh were actually hers! Just last year she had feared that her budding boobs might never grow at all. By the time school had let out for summer vacation, she had still barely outgrown her little training bra. What had caused her young chest to suddenly erupt into the erotic spectacle now staring back at her from the steamy mirror completely bewildered Angel. In the span of one short summer, she had been transformed from a flat-chested tomboy into... Into what? Angel wasn't quite sure. All the sweet youngster knew was that her newfound endowments made her very uncomfortable. It's not that she minded having boobs. Like most young girls, Angel had always looked forward to the day when she would be able to properly fill out a good-sized bra and spark the interest of a boy or two, the way she had seen some of the older girls do, but never in her wildest dreams had she imagined herself with breasts like THIS! On her tiny 5'4" hard-bodied frame, these huge knockers looked positively obscene! "God," she mumbled to herself, still gazing at her reflection in the wet glass. "I look like a freak!" Angel slowly reached up to cradle the twin mounds in her small palms. "And these don't help!" she muttered as she brought the tips of her index fingers forward to lightly tickle the small, sensitive nubs topping each lily-white bosom. Although her breasts had grown to mammoth proportions, she had somehow managed to retain her tiny, pink, little-girl nipples. Barely 1/2 inch in diameter, the diminutive adornments only served to make her big breasts appear even larger than they actually were! "Oooh..." moaned the sweet child as she rolled the spongy breast-tips gently between thumb and forefinger, causing the pink flesh to pucker and distend, making her tiny areolas all but disappear. "Aaahhh!" she gasped as she squeezed the throbbing buds tighter, sending little bursts of pleasure shooting madly through her quivering chest. The innocent youngster was astonished that such small bits of flesh could be so incredibly sensitive! It was as if there was a direct electrical line going from her breasts to her pussy! "Uuuhhh..." little Angel groaned softly as her fingertips continued to pinch and tease her tingling, rock-hard nipples. She knew she should stop now, before she got carried away by the wicked sensations shooting through her hot, heavy breasts. Her father was Reverend of the local church, and Angel had always been taught that masturbation was wrong, that what she was doing to herself right now was nasty and dirty, that girls weren't supposed to touch themselves like this, or feel like this, but the hormonal fires coursing through her healthy young body were just too intense to deny! Continuing her intimate ministrations, the panting child could only moan in helpless surrender as she felt her virgin slit begin to bubble and churn, her tender pussy-lips starting to drool with arousal. Angel glanced nervously at the closed door that led to her twin brother, Steven's room. They both shared this upstairs bath, the door at one end leading to Steven's bedroom, and the door on the other side opening onto hers. Angel didn't want Steve barging in on her again, like he had been doing so often lately. Last week the insufferable brat had actually walked in while she was in the shower! Angel shuddered as she recalled the look on his face as he had stared, open-mouthed at her wet, soapy chest, and how the crotch of his jeans had bulged and throbbed obscenely as he mumbled an apology and hurried out of the room. The panting youngster felt her heart start to pound as she pictured her brother's bulging crotch and wondered about the scary, forbidden treasure that lay hidden behind his zipper. Whimpering softly, Angel spasmed as a small rivulet of milky-white fluid oozed slowly down her trembling inner thigh, her sweet young cunt overflowing with hot, sugary pussy-cream. Satisfied that Steven wasn't about to disturb her, little Angel stepped closer to the steamy mirror and began to fondle herself with renewed abandon. "Aahh.." she sighed as her small hands clutched wildly at her big wet breasts, urgently kneading the resilient mounds as her pubescent passions began to overwhelm her. "Noo! Oh Nooo!!" Cried Angel as the trembling youngster felt her sopping pussy buck and grind uncontrollably, humping the air as if she were fucking some giant, invisible cock. Unable to contain her young lust any longer, Angel closed her big blue eyes, threw her pretty blonde head back, spread her shapely, tanned thighs and recklessly plunged the first two fingers of her right hand as deeply into her hot, slimy cunt-hole as she could manage. A low, lusty moan escaped little Angel's sweet lips as her virgin cunt opened itself eagerly to her invading fingers. Her firm, rounded ass-cheeks clenched tightly as the whimpering 15 year-old began to obscenely slide her slender digits slowly in and out of her wet, slippery cunt. Still kneading her swollen breast-meat with her left hand, Angel's fingers moved faster and faster inside her frothy pussy, filling the small bathroom with the slimy, slushy sounds of fucking, and quickly bringing the trembling youngster to the brink of orgasm. "Oooh! So good! So GOOD!" Angel's hand became a blur between her splayed thighs as she rode the crest of her climax, humping her sweet ass back and forth to meet her frigging fingers. Wave after wave of white-hot passion washed madly over her tiny frame as Angel plunged her wildly fucking fingers deeper and deeper into her hot, slobbering cunt-hole. In, out, in, out, again and again! The frenzied teenager's young body jerked and heaved as multi-colored fireworks exploded inside her head. Sobbing, Angels trembling knees buckled and she fell forward, her sweat-soaked body plastering itself with a loud slap against the wet glass of the mirror. "Yaa-UUHH!!Angel screamed as her tender, swollen pussy lips came into contact with the mirror's slippery surface, causing her to hump her creamy cunt up and down frantically against the cool, slick glass. The unexpected shock of the cold glass against her burning cunt lips was more than the little blonde could endure. Angel's lithe young body shuddered once, spasmed, and then exploded into a wild, mind-numbing orgasm. The sheer force of her climax almost made Angel swoon. Her big blue eyes glazed. Her head spun. She gasped. Every muscle in her finely-toned athletic body suddenly tensed. For a split second, Angel remained frozen, unable to move or breathe, then the sweet child moaned, spasmed, and began to spurt a thick, syrupy liquid from deep within her twitching cunt hole. "Fuck, Oh Fuck!" cried the quivering teen, the forbidden words spilling from her sweet lips the same way the slimy cum-juice was spilling from her throbbing cunt. Again and again, she humped her drooling pussy against the cold glass, her orgasmic fluids oozing thickly out of her weeping fuck-hole, soaking her taut belly and firm thighs with a pungent, creamy froth. Overwhelmed, the trembling youngster slid slowly down the full length of the steamy mirror, leaving a slimy trail on the wet glass as she collapsed into a spent, panting heap on the bathroom's cold tile floor. "Oh...my...god..." Angel rasped as she struggled vainly to catch her breath. Bathed in the heavy aftermath of her powerful orgasm, the cute little blonde lay gasping at the foot of the bathtub, a slimy puddle forming between her open thighs as her still-twitching pussy oozed the last of her warm cum-juice onto the shiny blue tiles. "Great show, Sis." The unexpected voice cut through the quiet air like a thunderclap! Angel gasped, her big blue eyes opened wide in shock and disbelief as she turned to see a familiar figure standing motionless in the open doorway at the far end of the room! "STEVEN!""You're getting all red!" laughed Angel as she watched her brother's flushed face staring wide-eyed at her bare pussy. Giggling mischievously, the naked little girl began to pump her wet finger lazily in and out of her dripping fuck-hole. Steven moaned, pulling his swollen cock-meat even harder. Delighted by her brother's reaction, Angel dipped her slender digit faster and faster into her drooling cunt, causing her huge breasts to jiggle obscenely and bringing the little virgin to a fever-pitch of lust. The sweet child groaned as she plunged first one, then two, and finally three fingers as deeply as she could into her hot, bubbling pussy, the look on her brother's face as he watched her nasty little show exciting Angel more than she could ever have imagined! "Oh Angel...Angel...." moaned Steven as his fist raced madly up and down his throbbing cock. Reaching down with his free hand, Steven grabbed Angel's naked left breast and began to gently knead the firm, tender orb, sending skyrockets of pleasure flashing through little Angel's trembling body. "Oh! Ah! Steven! Oh GOD! Nobody has ever -- OH! No! Yes! YES!!" The trembling blonde babbled incoherently as her ample bosom responded wildly to her brother's exploring fingers. Nobody had ever touched her breasts before, and the excited youngster found the sensation almost too intense to bear. "Oh! You're touching me! You're squeezing me! Oooo! Steven! Squeeze! HARDER!! Aaaaahh! Yes! DO it! Ooooohhhh!!" Angel writhed in ecstasy as her brother pinched and pulled her sweaty pink breast-flesh, moving from one rubbery mound to the other as he continued to milk his pulsing manhood. "God, Sis! You've got the most fantastic tits in the whole world!" Steven released his twitching cock and began massaging Angel's magnificent breasts with both hands, molding and rolling the warm, resilient mounds with glee as his raging manhood bobbed and pulsed freely, inches away from Angel's flushed face. Without thinking, Angel grabbed the swaying organ and began to pump her thin fingers rapidly up and down the smooth, throbbing shaft, moaning with lust as she held a boy's cock for the first time in her young life! "Oh Steven! Your cock! I've got your COCK!" Shrieked Angel as she milked the massive rod, causing her brother to gasp and begin grinding his tight ass back and forth, fucking her tiny hand like it was a cunt. "Oh, Sis!" moaned Steven. "Jack me! Uh! Uh! Yes! DO me! Jack my bone! Uuuuhh!" "Steven!" Angel cried as her brother squeezed her tiny, ultra-sensitive nipples roughly between thumb and forefinger, sending torrents of fresh cunt-cream pouring from her scalding pussy and bringing the pretty 15 year-old to a state of arousal she had never before dreamed of. "OOHH! That feels so -- Steven! Aaah! Your hands! Uh! I - I'm gonna -- Oh! God! Your cock is so big! -- Oh! OH!! STEVEN! Y-you're m-making me -- OH! Your HANDS! Your COCK! GOD! STEVE!! STEVIE!! STEEV-EEEE-EEEEEE!!!" Angel shrieked, franticly plunging her slimy fingers in and out of her bubbling, churning cunt-hole. Still jacking her brother's raging erection, the babbling youngster arched her back, pushing her huge breasts as hard as she could against her twin brother's grasping fingers, hungry for every ounce of sensation she could attain. Beside herself with arousal, little Angel began to spasm, her taut young body bucking and heaving wildly on the cold, wet floor. Angel's orgasm hit the sweet girl like a freight train. Her heart pounded madly in her chest. She shuddered, gasped, and began to writhe uncontrollably, her spitting cunt slobbering hot cum thickly down her tender ass and onto the slippery floor tiles. Angel shrieked in ecstasy as her lithe young body was enveloped in a giant tidal wave of raw pleasure, then another, and another, over and over, until the gasping child thought she would drown in the sheer delight of it all. Angel fought for breath as her tremendous climax finally began to subside. Her head was spinning, and little explosions of colored lights flashed brightly before her eyes. Gradually, the world began to come into focus again, and the gasping youngster found herself staring directly at her brother's big, red, throbbing cock-head! "Ohh, Steven..." gasped Angel as she stared at the naked organ. It was so close she could feel its heat on her face. Suddenly, she felt her brother softly caressing the back of her neck. "Angel...Please..." he rasped, placing his warm, trembling hands on either side of her blonde head, gently but firmly holding her pretty face motionless as he hunched his tight ass forward. Angel groaned as her brother's hot cock slid across her flushed cheek, smearing her sweet face with his clear, slimy pre-cum. She knew what he wanted. The older girls at school often whispered about giving "B.J.s", and Angel's best friend, Kirsten, had secretly told Angel one night on a sleepover how her Uncle John had made her put his big cock in her mouth and suck until she made his sperm come out. Angel had been shocked, but fascinated, and she had asked Kirsten a dozen questions. Kirsten had finally gotten a sausage from the refrigerator and shown her how to "give head", as she called it. They had both giggled wildly the next morning when Kirsten's mother had served them sausage and eggs for breakfast! "Ooh..Angel... Please.. Do it..Oh.. God..Angel! Use your mouth! Please!" Steven pleaded, humping his dripping cock back and forth across his sister's lips and chin. Angel found the musky, male smell of Steven's cock intoxicating! Groaning in surrender, the petite blonde looked up into her brother's glazed eyes and slowly parted her pink lips, opening her sweet mouth wide in unspoken invitation. "Sis! Oh God!" gasped Steven as he quickly positioned his rigid cock directly in front of his twin sister's beautiful, flushed face. His tanned, muscular thighs trembled as the horny teenager took a deep breath and, still holding her blonde head tightly in his hands, shamelessly thrust his drooling cock-head slowly past little Angel's widely parted lips and into her warm, wet mouth! Angel's big eyes opened wide with surprise as her brother's thick, hot cock slid boldly over her wet tongue and lodged snuggly in the back of her throat, making her gag. Her mouth stuffed full of Steven's thick, slimy cock-meat, little Angel could only gurgle helplessly as her horny brother began to hump his smooth ass back and forth, eagerly fucking her open mouth like she was a cheap street whore! "Angel!! Uuuhh! Your MOUTH! I'm in your MOUTH! Aaauughh!! Take it! Yes! Take it all! Oh GOD! ANGEL! I'M FUCKING YOU IN THE MOUTH!" cried the frenzied teenager as he mercilessly defiled his sweet, virgin sister, rutting into her open mouth like a dog in heat! "GOD! Oh GOD! So GOOD! Uuuh! Sis! ah! ah! ah! Ooohh! I -- I'm gonna mess! Uuuhh!! Sis! I'm gonna mess in your mouth! Aaah! Sis! It's gonna happen! Get ready! Ah! Ah! Get ready! Oh! Ah! Uh! Uuuh!!!" Angel's sky-blue eyes opened even wider than before as she felt the head of her brother's rutting cock suddenly swell in her mouth and then begin spewing a thick, hot, slimy goo directly into her tender throat! Angel shuddered. Steven was cumming in her mouth! The whimpering youngster did her best to swallow the acrid, slightly salty discharge, gulping down mouthful after mouthful of her brother's hot, nasty cum, but there was just too much for the inexperienced little girl to cope with, and the viscous white slime began to bubble thickly down her chin and onto her big, sweaty breasts. "ANGEL!! I'm cumming!! Oh God oh God!! SIS! AAAHHH!! You're making me CUM! Uuuh! GOD! You're making me cum with your MOUTH!! AAAHH!! ANGEL! There! THERE!! Take it! Drink it! Oh God! Aaahh! Uuuhh!! Angel! Yes! YESS!! Drink my CUM! AAAAWW!! RIGHT IN YOUR MOUTH!!" shouted Steven as his throbbing manhood sent spurt after spurt of his boiling sperm careening down his sweet sister's gulping gullet! "Angel! Angel! Ooohh! DO it! DO it! Oh MAN! Drink my JIZZ!! Yessssss!!!" Steven's slender hips bucked and writhed as the moaning teenager emptied the last of his hot cock-juice into his sister's wet, sucking mouth. Little Angel Tucker closed her eyes and moaned as she sucked greedily on her brother's spurting prick. The young girl had never dreamed that something coming out of a boy's big, nasty cock could taste so incredibly good, or make her feel so wonderful! Angel sucked harder, hungry for more of the thick, heady liquid. She could hear Steven gasping above her as her full lips eagerly siphoned the last few drops of sperm out of his softening penis. "God, Angel! That's enough. Please! I'm finished! There's no more!" Steven forcefully pulled his sister's blonde head away from his wilting prick and stepped back shakily, staring down at Angel in amazement. "Th -- That was unbelievable! You let me cum in your mouth! And you SWALLOWED it! You drank my jizz! God!" he breathed. "Oooohh..Steven! Your cum is so good!" gasped Angel as her small hands eagerly scooped up the slimy remnants of her brother's enormous emission from her naked breasts and gleefully smeared the gooey ooze all over her lips and tongue. "I love the taste! Mmmmm! God, this is so nasty!" The naked youngster grinned wickedly as she looked up into her brother's flushed, sweaty face, lazily licking the last of his cum off her slick, shiny fingers. "Angel..Whew! You're too much!" Steven shook his head and began to make his way out of the bathroom. "Better get a move on. You don't want to be late for the first day of school!" SCHOOL! It had completely slipped Angel's mind! The panicked teen jumped to her feet and dashed frantically into her bedroom, throwing open her drawers and searching madly through her closet for something to wear!It was going to be an interesting day.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/Book_Shelf_R/Reverend's Little Angel (Mf, ped).txt
50,825	Nicole	The Renters	You walk up behind me where I'm picking flowers in the backyard and put your arms around me, and whisper in my ear, "Are you my girl?" You can feel my familiar response, as your words immediately excite me, and I answer breathlessly, "Yes, John." "Good girl!" You begin to nuzzle my neck at my collarbone, at that place you know makes my knees weak, and you slide the tip of your tongue up the side of my neck and gently tease my earlobe. As you hear my breathing increase, you whisper, "Are you my slut? You want daddy already, don't you, little girl?" "Yes, I do." You know that I love pleasing you, and that any mention of being your slut gets me hot and wet almost immediately. It's a game that excites us both and that you like playing, because you like knowing how much I want you. "You want daddy to fuck you, don't you slut?" "Yes." "Daddy has an idea for tonight, honey. Let me tell you about it." You turn me around and pull my body full against yours, and you can feel my delicious curves pressing into you, so soft and already conveying my urgent need of you. "Let's go inside, Nicole, and I'll tell you." We walk towards the house and you take me into the bedroom and motion for me to sit on the edge of the bed. You move towards the closet and come out holding one of my dresses, your favorite, one that shows my body off to tantalizing perfection, yet is somewhat demure at the same time. "I'm taking you out tonight, love, for dinner and dancing, and after that I have a surprise for you. Well, actually, you will surprise Daddy because you will want to please me. You'll want to be my slut tonight, won't you, and do what will please your daddy?" "Yes, but I want you now, John. Will you fuck me now?" "No, Nicole, but if you are a good girl tonight, and do everything daddy asks of you, daddy will take care of you like he always does. And I know how much that excites you. Will you play my game and be my naughty slut tonight, and do anything I ask?" "Yes, I'll do anything if it pleases you, only so long as I can feel you moving inside me later tonight, fucking my hot slit with your big cock." "Good girl, you talk like daddy's whore and he likes it." You pull me up by the hands and pat me on the bottom as you motion me to the bathroom. "Get yourself ready now, honey, and wear some sexy panties and a lacy bra under your dress. Don't wear any stockings or pantyhose, just what I've told you to wear underneath." My body is tingling all over as I settle down in the fragrant bubble bath I have run for myself, wondering what you'll ask of me tonight to please you. I do so love doing anything you ask of me, and being your slut. I sink down in the bubbles and lean my head back, trying to relax and calm my mounting anticipation. When I get out of the bath, I towel myself dry and then daub your favorite perfume on certain areas of my body, making myself ready to be your slut and whore tonight. I slip on one of my sexiest low-cut bras and a pair of tiny white lace panties. I walk into the bedroom and put on the dress you chose for me, and then walk into the living room where you are waiting. The dress is royal blue silk, and crosses over the front and is fastened with just a single tie. The cloth is molded to my body, outlining my curves, and flows softly as I walk, showing off my long legs with each step, as the dress separates slightly as I move. My eyes are sparkling with excitement and desire as I look at you, and you feel a tingle as you think that all of this is for you and that I will do what you ask tonight. You have something special planned for tonight, something that I couldn't possibly be anticipating, but you know I'll do what you ask no matter what it is, and that thought excites you almost beyond control. "You look stunning, honey. Are you ready to be daddy's whore tonight and do what daddy asks?" "Yes." "Tell me love, tell me what you know daddy likes to hear." "I'm your whore tonight, John, your whore and your slut, and I'll do anything you want. I love to please you in any way I can. It makes me hot and wet and I want you!" "Good girl, you ARE daddy's slut, and you know how to please me. Let's go now, honey, we have a reservation for 8:00." During dinner we sit across from each other, talking softly, and looking at each other, knowing each of us is excited and anticipating what is to come, you because you know, and I because I'm excited by what I don't know. When the waiter clears the table and brings us an after-dinner drink, you slide around the booth to sit close to me. You gaze intently into my eyes and ask quietly, "My little slut's pussy is wet, isn't it?" I'm embarrassed by your question, as I admit to you that I am. "Don't be shy, honey, you excite me. You want me, don't you?" I nod my head yes without looking away from your eyes. "Do you want to dance with me, honey, and feel my arms holding your body close to me?" "Yes, I do, John." "Okay, you have to do something for daddy first, to show me that you are my slut. Will you do anything?" I look confused but again nod my head yes. "If you do what I ask, it will show me that you are mine, my whore, and you will make me happy. I want you to go into the ladies' room and touch that sweet pussy that belongs to me for just a moment, just enough to wet your fingertips, and then I want you to rub them gently across your lips. Daddy will be able to smell your sweet essence while we are dancing. Will you do this for me?" I'm so embarrassed, but I softly murmur, "yes," as I slide out of the booth and walk to the ladies' room. When I return, you step from the booth and lead me to the dance floor, and take me into your arms. "Did you do as I asked, Nicole?" For your answer, I press my lips against yours, and give you a lingering kiss there in the seclusion of the darklit dance floor. You can taste as well as smell my honey there upon my lips. "Good girl, my good little slut," you whisper into my ear in a ragged voice as we dance. I can feel your cock harden just a bit as your body presses against mine as we move to the music. "What is the surprise, John? I want to know. I can't wait!" You laugh gently at my excited impatience. "Don't you want to stay and dance a little more, honey? Or are you so anxious to please daddy?" "You know you have got me so wet and hot and excited. Yes, I want to leave now because the sooner we leave, the sooner I can know what your game is tonight, and have you fuck me." "You are a slut, aren't you? Alright whore, soon you will know what your daddy requires of you tonight. There will be no turning back now, are you sure, dear?" I look challengingly into your eyes. You know that look. My excitement has carried me from reason and I want only one thing, and I will do what you ask to have you later tonight. Now you feel weak for a moment as you sense my excited and total surrender. "Yes, my little slut will do even what I ask of her tonight," you think to yourself, and you again feel weak with your own anticipation. "Alright, honey, we'll leave now." We walk hand in hand from the restaurant and to the car. We sit in the darkness a moment before you put the keys in the ignition. Then you turn to me and gently stroke my hair. "Nicole, dear, we are going to visit some friends of mine tonight. And since you have already agreed to my surprise, you cannot turn back now. You will go through with whatever I ask, is that right?" "Yes, John, I will. I'm going crazy with desire, tell me what it is." "Okay, from this point, you will act like my total depraved whore. You will act like a cunt who must be satisfied, in any way I ask, or do whatever I ask. Are you still wet, dear? Let me see." I spread my legs at your words and beckon you to finger me.You insert a finger deep inside my cunt and hear the wet sounds as you move within me. "Good, babycunt, daddy is pleased with you." You withdraw your finger and place it against my lips, watching me as I lick my juices from your finger and my lips. "Okay, slut, we are going to my first friend's house. You know her, dear, it is Connie, the stewardess who lives in the apartment over the garage." "Why are we going there?" "She wants me, Nicole, she's been very brazen about it, and I told her she could have me if she would entertain ME first. She knows we are coming to visit tonight. You have a big part in this, Nicole, so you must act like my proper little babycunt. Do you know what daddy expects of you?" As you speak, you are gently touching my cheek with the back of your fingertips, often dropping your hand down to brush across my breasts, making me know that my body is yours and that I belong to you. "You expect something of me? But I thought you said Connie..." "Yes, my sweet whore, I've told Connie that she is to be yours tonight before she is mine. I'm going to watch you walk up the stairs to her apartment and I'm going to follow a few steps behind and listen as you tell her you want her. She won't refuse. This will excite me very much. I want to watch you take a woman, and Connie has agreed." "You want me to make love to a woman? But that would make me, a, a..." "Yes, Nicole, it would make you a what?" "Well, I'd be a, if I was with a woman, it would be like being a lesbian." "And doesn't that excite you? It excites your daddy very much. Nicole, will you be my sweet hot lesbian tonight, and make love to Connie for your daddy while he watches?" I'm silent as I contemplate what you expect of me. "Hmmm, my little cunt?" as you gently pinch my nipples. "Doesn't daddy's little lesbian girl want to touch Connie's nipples like daddy is touching yours? Don't you want to suck them till they are hard and then lick her sweet honey from her hot slit?" "Yes," I whisper, looking out the window. "What, Nicole, I couldn't hear you." "Yes, John, I want to do all those things to Connie." "So you'll be daddy's little...?" "Yes, I'll be your lesbian slut tonight, and let you watch while I make Connie mine." "Good girl!" We pull up to the driveway where Connie's apartment is over the garage. "I'll be right behind you, honey. Be brave and do what you know will please daddy. You'll enjoy it too I think, and after this, I'll take you for the second part of your surprise." I walk up the stairs and lightly knock on the door, almost hoping Connie won't hear the knock. The door opens and Connie is standing there wearing a long satin evening blouse that buttons down the front and which outlines her slender body and breasts. I can see that her nipples are hard as she has anticipated my arrival. Her obvious excitement kindles my own desires and I feel myself taking control, as I speak to Connie. "Connie, you know why we are here, don't you? I'm going to make love to you, I'm going to fondle your beautiful body and make you feel good. I'm going to be your lesbian lover, and John will watch us. Can we come in now?" Connie moves away from the door so we can both enter her living room. You shut the door behind you and sit in a chair in the far corner of the room. I take Connie by the hand and we walk together to the couch and sink into its softness, resting back against the cushions. I turn slightly to face Connie and touch her face and her hair, pulling the rubber band from her hair to loosen her ponytail and pull her hair around her face. I bend over her face and touch her lips very gently with mine as my hands explore her curves under the satin shirt. I begin to undo the buttons on her shirt, and kiss each part of flesh as it is exposed to my touch. I kiss her all the way down to her bikini panties as I undo the buttons, without opening her blouse to my view. I move my fingertips beneath the elastic of her panties and gently brush her mound of hair, while pushing her legs slightly apart with my other hand. I brush the palm of my hand over the outside of her panties where I have spread her legs and can feel that they are already slightly damp. "You are mine, Connie, and I want to make love to you. I want to look at your beautiful body." I push aside the cloth that is still covering Connie's body, until I can see her breasts. I kneel on the floor between her legs, pushing them open a bit farther, and gently touch each breast with one hand, cupping them and feeling her nipples grow taut and hard in my palms. I place my tongue over each nipple and swirl my tongue around and tease them into higher peaks. Her breasts are very soft and her skin is flushed from my touch. Her body excites me and I'm breathing heavier as I explore her secret places. I pull the cloth of her panties aside until I can see her blonde bush and her rosebud peeking out from the folds of her outer pussy lips. I run my finger up and down over her lips, just barely touching her pleasure point which I can feel begin to grow in response to my touch. Connie moans softly with pleasure from my ministrations. I stand and pull Connie to her feet, pulling the shirt from her shoulders and letting it drop to the floor. She is now entirely naked except for her tiny panties. I walk to the bedroom pulling Connie behind me by the hand, and motion for you to follow. I tell her to lay in the center of the bed on her back, and then I stretch out beside her and again begin caressing her breasts and playing with her nipples, allowing my hand to move down over her flat stomach and again over the mound of her pussy. My long legs are visible as I lay on the bed next to Connie and you can see my panties, as I unconsciously abandon myself to Connie and the pleasure of her body. You come close to the bed and with one swift tug, pull the tie on my dress, which causes it to fall open, revealing my scantily clad body. You ease the dress off my shoulders, allowing me to pull my arms from it, while you pull the last wisp of clothing covering Connie's body, and move across the room to watch and I turn to Connie once more. I brush my upper body across hers and she reaches up and unfastens the clasp on my bra, pulling it from my body so my skin can touch hers. My nipples brush across hers as I move across her chest, kissing her, and moving my face towards the silken hair between her legs. I push her legs open with my hands so that her pussy is exposed to both my view and yours across the room. I gently explore the lips of her pussy, opening them so that I can see her clitoris beckoning to my touch. I trace its outline delicately with the tip of one fingernail and watch it quiver to the sensation and hear her moan. I spread her outer lips and hold them open with the fingernails of one hand and I touch her clit with the tip of my tongue and begin exploring it, while my other hand moves to her opening. I gently nibble and bite at her clit which has become more erect, and as Connie moans in ecstasy, I insert one finger inside her steaming cunt which covers my hand with her juices as they flow freely from her. I cover her clit with the honey from her cunt and continue lapping at her delicate female place, enjoying her musky scent and her salty taste. My tongue moves down further between her legs, and I circle her opening, probing my tongue inside as far as it will go. I continue alternating between licking Connie's clit and plunging my tongue inside her opening, until I know she is close to coming. I look across the room to you and plead in a lustful voice, "John, will you help your slut make love to her sweet lesbian. I want you to fuck her cunt while I lick her clit and I want her to cum that way and for you to cum with her, spilling your load inside her cunt." You jump to your feet, unzip your pants, kick them to the floor, and cross over to the bed. I continue to hold open Connie's outer pussy lips with the fingernails of one hand, and with my other hand, help you to guide your huge cock into her dripping slit. "John, I want you to move very slowly in and out of her, so that I can lick both of you as you fuck her. I'm going to make her cum by licking her clit, just as you cum deep inside her." From your position, you have a perfect close-up view of my tongue working over Connie's cunt, and you can see my tongue darting in between the delicate folds of her pussy lips, over her quivering clit, and down to where your cock is positioned inside her. As I move to her opening, you can feel my tongue lick the length of you as you withdraw from her. Connie is moaning with pleasure from our actions, and arching her back as her impending orgasm nears. You are close to losing control as you watch me lick and suck at Connie and her cunt, like an experienced lesbian, and you are pleased that I have done as you asked, and done it so expertly. Images of the second part of tonight's lesson for me pass through your mind, and you can control yourself no longer and begin to empty your cum deep within Connie's hole. As your hot sperm drives inside her, and my tongue laps at her clitoris, Connie's climax hits with a force equal to your plunging cock, and she wraps her legs around your hips to milk every drop of your cum inside her cunt. As you withdraw from Connie, I lick the single drop of cum left clinging to the tip of your still hard member, and then begin to lick any traces of your cum from Connie's pussy, bringing her to one final, gentle orgasm. I look up at you as you begin to pull on your pants in preparation for our departure, and ask, "Do I make a good lesbian, daddy?" "Yes you do, babycunt, but there is one more lesson remaining for tonight. Get dressed and we'll say goodnight to Connie."You walk over to Connie as I get dressed and kiss her gently on the lips, and tell her how pleasing her cunt was and how much you enjoyed watching me make love to her. Connie follows us to the door, and you walk out first, turning to watch as I say goodnight to Connie. I press my body against hers, rubbing her side as I kiss her wetly on the mouth. You can hear me telling her how much I enjoyed her body and making love to her and that I'd like to have her again. Then to your surprise, you hear me say, "Next time I'd like to use a dildo strapped around my waist and take you like a man. Then I'll really be your lesbian lover. Would you like that, Connie?" Connie nods yes, and you smile as you think of how reluctant I was earlier. What have you created tonight, and what will happen after the next lesson? I follow you down the stairs and get in the car and slide over next to you. "John, I'm soaking wet. You're going to have to do something or I'm going to get my clothes and the seat wet," I say in a somewhat distressed voice. "Don't worry about it, babycunt, daddy will make sure you get cleaned up before the night is over. That was quite a show you gave me with Connie. Where did you learn to eat a woman's pussy like that? Now you are daddy's lesbian girl, as well as my slut, whore, cunt and buttfuck. You like all of daddy's names for you, don't you, dear? It excites you, to hear me call you these names, doesn't it? Well, daddy has one more excitement planned for you tonight." "And then you will take me home and fuck me hard?" "Yes, Nicole, I will, if you do what daddy asks at our next stop. You will enjoy it, honey, possibly even more than I will enjoy watching you surrender to my commands." You start the engine and pull out of the driveway. You don't want me to see where we are going until we arrive, so you motion for me to move close to you and you pull my head into your lap. "Unzip my pants, babycunt, and suck daddy's cock, and swallow every drop when I cum." I do as you ask, and can still taste Connie's juices on your cock as I begin to suck you off. I begin by exploring the tip of your cock, willing your sweet nectar to touch my tongue. I swirl my tongue around the edge, slowly pulling you into my mouth as I descend over you and take all of you deep into my mouth. Then I slowly pull my head up, allowing my lips to drag along the sides of your swollen member. I notice that you have parked the car and I move to stop, but you hold my head in your lap, willing me to continue. "Suck me, whore, don't stop until you make me cum." I resume my licking and sucking in earnest now, wanting to feel your heavy load fill my mouth and slide down my throat. It only takes a few more moments, and you spurt your semen into the wet warmth of my mouth, pushing it to the back of my throat to ensure that I will swallow every drop. "Good girl. Your daddy is exhausted and will have to rest now, so you'll have to entertain me while I recuperate if you want to be fucked properly before the night is over." You walk around to help me out of the car and I notice that we have parked in front of Liz' house. So this was the other friend you meant! "John, why are we coming to see Liz?" "Why, so that you can cum, like a proper lesbian slut. Daddy is too tired to take care of you just now, and I know that after pleasuring Connie and me so well tonight, you are itching for some release of your own. Am I right, babycunt?" "Yes, John, but how can Liz help me?" "Didn't you tell me that you are soaking wet and need to be cleaned up, dear?" Suddenly your intent is all too clear to me! "No, John, I couldn't let her do that to me!" "What! Did I hear 'no' from my whore? I thought you didn't say no to your daddy. And you were such a perfect little lesbian slut with Connie. Don't you want the same pleasure for yourself? Liz wants you. I want to watch you submit to her. I will fuck you when we get home. Do this for me, Nicole. You can't say no, remember?" "Yes, I know, I'm not supposed to say no," I sigh. "Okay, take me inside and I'll do what will please you. I'll submit to Liz." "Like a ... ?" I wince softly as I answer, "Like your little lesbian slut." "Good girl! My cock is getting hard in anticipation of this part of your lesson already. Let's go, honey." Liz opens the door soon after you press the doorbell, and invites us both inside. She immediately undoes the tie on my dress and pushes it from my body and steps back to look as me as you pull it free from my body. Liz apparently likes what she sees, as she licks her lips in unconcealed anticipation, and then says to you, "She looks delectable, John. Have you gotten her all wet and horny for me?" "Yes, she just had her first lesson at sucking a woman's pussy, and she did an excellent job, just like an expert. I told her she would now submit to you, and let you give her some similar pleasure. I think once she feels a woman's touch upon her body, and her intimate places, she will respond like the depraved lesbian slut I'd like her to be for tonight." Liz turns back to me and now takes my hand as earlier I had taken Connie's, and invites me to follow her to the bedroom, and you as well. You are not to be denied the entertainment of my initiation. Once inside the bedroom, Liz allows her dressing gown to slip to the floor, revealing her lush body. Her breasts are full and her body is curvaceous and softly appealing, and her golden-red triangle of pussy hair shines in the muted light of the bedroom. Now standing before the bed, she pulls my panties down my long legs and directs me to sit on the bed, opening my legs wide, but without touching me for the time being. She unfastens my bra and slowly pulls it from my upper body. Despite my earlier hesitancy, my nipples tingle with anticipation of being touched by Liz as she uncovers my breasts, and they harden perceptibly. Liz stretches out on the bed languidly and invites me to join her by patting the space next to her. She pushes me gently back into the pillows and comforter and moves until I can feel her body pressing the entire length of mine. She rolls over to cover my body with hers, and spreads our legs equally as she begins to kiss my mouth. From where you are sitting across the room, you can see Liz' gold-red hair mingling with the wet tangle of my blonde hair as she grinds her now wet pussy into mine. You can almost see our clits rubbing against each other as you hear our soft female sounds begin to fill the room. You notice that I am responding with a different urgency from my earlier encounter with Connie. I am actually exploring and caressing Liz' body as she explores and caresses mine, without being prompted to do so, and my lower body is arching in a fucking motion as I try to pull Liz' hot cunt into my own. Liz lifts her upper body from mine so that her heavy breasts and large nipples are extended over my face. I begin to suckle her nipples, enjoying the feel of them inside my lips. The movement of her body has changed the angle of her cunt's contact with mine, and I can feel her juices dripping and mixing with mine and running between my legs. My urgency is now apparent as Liz moves away from my body and positions herself between my legs and begins to gently explore my cunt as I had earlier explored Connie's. You are surprised at my seeming abandon and are pleased with my complete surrender tonight, both during our visit with Connie, and now here, with Liz. You want to witness my complete submission and abandon to the sensations Liz is giving to me, so you move closer to the bed. Your cock is rock hard again as you watch the display unfolding before you on the bed... watching Liz play with my pussy and tease my cunt and clit, with her own cunt exposed invitingly to your view. You place your hands on Liz' hips and work your fingers down between her legs, spreading them slightly to allow you greater freedom to her drenched slit. All the while she continues lapping and licking my cunt, bringing me closer to release. Your fingers probe until you can find her opening and you slip two fingers inside her, gently stretching her tight pussy open, and then you ease your cock inside her, entering her from behind. You place the fingers which had been inside Liz' cunt against my lips, and I begin to suck your fingers in my abandon, as you begin to move slowly in and out of Liz from behind. Liz sucks my clit with greater intensity as her own excitement mounts from your penetration deep within her. She nibbles and bites at my pleasure point, alternating with licking the sides of my clit with the tip of her probing tongue. She sticks her fingers inside my cunt and I can feel my pleasure being released. She works her fingers in and out slowly, as she continues to tease and flick my clitoris, which is now quivering involuntarily as my orgasm begins. She senses how close I am and laps with more insistent pressure at the peak of my erect clit, bringing me finally to wave upon wave of utter sensation. My sighs of pleasure fill the room, and go on and on, as Liz' brings me to the longest, most intense climax I have ever experienced. With a final deep thrust inside Liz, you drop another heavy load of semen as you lose control for the third time tonight. And finally, Liz drops down exhausted on the bed, as your fingers find her pleasure point, and you continue to pound hard inside her cunt, releasing the last drops of your cum, and bringing her to orgasm. On the ride home, I lean back exhaustedly in my seat, wondering if you will yet have the strength to fuck me when we get home. I have yet to feel a cock plunging deep inside me, and I'm still extremely horny as the images of my evening pass through my mind.When we get home and after we are inside and alone in the privacy of our bedroom, you tell me to get ready to submit one last time tonight. You help me ease the clothes from my body, and lay down on the bed with me. You know what I want. You know tonight's experiences have left me satisfied in a new way, but I crave to be taken by you. I whisper in your ear, "John, I want you to take me. I need to know that I'm yours, and not just Connie's and Liz' slut. That I'm your slut and your whore. Take me both ways tonight, John. Make me your buttfuck, and then enter my cunt from behind. Make me yours!" "Yes, Nicole, you have earned it, my little slut, my whore, my babycunt, my buttfuck, and my sweet lesbian. Daddy will take care of his beautiful girl now. Roll onto your stomach and offer your body to Daddy."	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/Book_Shelf_R/Renters, The (Mf, inc, ped).txt
50,853	Wolf Whistle ([email protected])	Rape (MF, rp)	You are out with some friends, at a show, taking a night out with the girls. At the bar, you see me -- a tall, well-built, blonde, bearded fellow who cannot keep his eyes off of you, even though you've tried to dress down and not attract attention. You keep looking back at me, knowing that my eyes are all over you, feeling me undress you with my eyes. As you look back, I shift and show you my arousal, my cock bursting from beneath my jeans. I rub myself as you watch me, your eyes fixated on my public masturbation. I know I am turning you on, I can see your knees knocking and your breasts heaving. I watch as you turn and tell your girlfriends, they look back and I stare at you still, not in an axe murderer fashion, but in an "I-gotta-have-her" fashion. Still running my hand over my cock as they check me out, I watch as you giggle and flirt girlishly with this young buck wanting some passion for the evening. I watch as you can't keep attention focused on the show, but keep looking to make sure I'm looking. I am. I am already making love to you with my eyes, already have you naked and bending to my whims. Watching as you rise and excuse yourself to go to the ladies' room, a strange occurrence, since ladies usually go in "pairs". You watch as I rise to follow you, swaying your hips because you know I am hypnotized by your beauty... You know I am following you, I see you looking back, I don't smile, just follow, looking into your eyes when you peek back, a look that says "I'm gonna fuck you". You stop as we approach the ladies' room, facing me and asking if you can "help me with anything". I still do not speak. I reach for your hand slowly, so as not to scare you. I don't want to scare you, I want to fuck you. I grab your hand and gently caress it, my fingers flowing easily over your soft and tiny digits. I still do not speak, bringing your hand to my crotch and wrapping your hand around my cock, sliding it up and down my hard shaft. I watch as your eyes close and your neck throbs, I can tell you are excited by the prospect of what I have in mind... I look around, all the crowd is enjoying the show. I push you back, into the shadows of a corner and press my lips against yours as your hand starts to work over my cock on its own. I kiss you hard -- who needs words? My tongue diving into your mouth, your throat, my hands reaching for your ample breast and squeezing, manipulating you into a frenzy. We are clouded by the shadows, but not hidden completely. I know we can be seen, and our breath certainly heard by some of the closer patrons, I don't care.. this is what I want. Slowly, my hand starts to pull your skirt up. You try to keep me from doing so, I'm too big, too strong for you. I press into you, pinning you against the wall with my body weight, but not crushing you. I still don't want you hurt... My hands pull your skirt up, your hands now around me, reaching round my back, I smile, glad that you are enjoying. We kiss more as you join the frenzy, your tongue rolling round and round in my mouth, your breath exhaling into me, making me want you all the more. My cock presses against your thigh, now naked and exposed to me. I take your hand in mine, somewhat roughly and move it to my zipper. YOU must take it down, and unsheathe my "weapon". Vigorously, you take my zipper down, finding that my cock is naked beneath -- it pops out eagerly to meet your palm, you grip tightly, maybe to ward me off, maybe to turn me on. I move one hand to your pussy. What I've wanted all night. I feel your dampness, your readiness for me. You suck in as I touch you, your facial lips opening as wide as your cunt lips while I circle your clit, getting you as ready as possible for my throbbing dick. Pulling your panties aside, I move my cock into position, You are still pinned to the wall, still sucking my tongue as my head touches the electricity of your pussy. We both inhale, knowing this is what we want, need. A quick, hard fuck to relieve the pressure. I squat a bit, my cock tickling you as it wiggles to and fro on your lips. I push into you, your sweet pussy accepting all of me, sliding into you, as some watch, my cock enters you, forcefully and willfully. I feel you bite my tongue as I plunge, I pull out of your mouth. I put a hand over your lips as I start to enter you in time with the drums...my cock pounding out a passionate rhythm in your pussy. Pounding, pulsing, growing huge within you. I've never had a pussy as good as yours, never been squeezed so tight, never been accepted so freely. I start to fuck you, my cock like a piston, deep and hard, quietly somehow, so as not to attract too much attention. I like that they see me, watching me fuck my little bitch for the night. You bite my finger as I plunge into you, your cunt -- so goddamn good, silky satin that grabs me and draws me in, heaven on earth, a playground for all my fantasies. My cock swells within you, filling you up, you can hardly take all of me in, I force onward. You WILL take all of me, you WILL take all of my cock, all of my cum. I fuck you madly, my cock deep, so deep, so hard. Like an arm inside you, big and strong and pleasing. I feel you ooze your orgasm all down my cock, I feel your walls spasm and jerk as I continue in my driving, I can feel you cum again with my cock all the way inside, penetrating your womb. You are impaled on my dick, pinned to the wall. I thrust into you, still not saying a word, not telling you that your pussy is perfect, it is wonderful, it is all I need. Your pussy will make me cum, baby. And I'm gonna cum deep into you, lift you off the floor with the pressure, my cum is going to fill you up and ooze down your leg. Your friends will smell it on you. A few more pumps, my cock ramming into your juice and cum-slickened pussy, fucking you hard, as hard as I can, the wall knocking beneath us. More eyes turn to see the fracas, to see your pussy accept me. To see me FUCK you. I drive deep, push your shoulders down. Your knees buckle as I do, you feel my cum spurt and cannon into your pussy, you can feel it in your stomach. My cock throbs as I shoot into you, your perfect cunt milking me dry, making me cum harder and longer than I ever have before. Still fucking you, not stopping, using every last inch of my cock to fuck you, to the last of my arousal. I want you to remember me, bitch... As I pull out, I feel you slump in exhaustion, you look at me, you are sweaty and tired, smiling and satisfied. It is now that I finally speak. All I say is "Thanks" as I zip up and turn from you...	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/Book_Shelf_R/Rape (MF, rp).txt
50,862	Orestes	Resume (MF, semi-nc)	You can tell a lot about someone by the blanks she leaves on a job application. The little gaps in her job history speak volumes. A question left unanswered is like a confession of past wrongs. People expect me, as the Human Resources manager, to read what's in a resume, but I've always felt that it's what's NOT in a resume that tells me something about a person. Sarah Courtnall would be in my office in a few minutes, applying for a position with the company. What position? Well, there's the first blank on the application form. Her resume shows an education in accounting and several years of experience in the field, but she didn't fill it in on the application. Maybe she needs a job so badly that she's willing to accept a position in data entry or in secretarial work. Her next blank was left in her job history. A four-year blank, in fact. My mind filled with various scenarios. Usually, there would be an explanation - going back to school, raising a young family, whatever. Usually, the applicant would explain this in her cover letter, which in this case was notably absent. Finally, a real no-no. She had left blank the question about whether she'd been convicted of a criminal offense. I puzzled over this one. If she had been convicted, it's surely something she'd either put down on the application or lie about, but not leave blank. If she hadn't been convicted of a crime, she'd surely put down "no." Was it a case pending? Was she hoping that I wouldn't ask? There were a whole host of omissions in this application. Personal references, contact numbers at her previous employer (as if that would stop me from calling), even an emergency contact, in case of illness or accident. Of course, what's in a resume can say a lot too. Her address was in a very bad part of the city. A slum, really. Her age, 32 years old (pretty young to be down and out). There was an old certificate proclaiming her to the honor roll at her college, and an old reference letter from her first employer, praising her as "promising." With the job market so slim, I knew that our advertisement would bring people out from the woodwork. We were one of the few local companies, based on our strengths overseas, that was hiring right now. This put me in a position of power, which of course, I would never consider abusing if I thought the applicant had any real potential of advancing in the company (an exercise in self-interest, I assure you). This girl, well, I'd have to see. I buzzed the intercom and asked Madeline to send in the next applicant. I stepped up to the door to open it a crack. I could hear Madeline down the hallway. "Mr. Kowalski will see you now, miss." This sound, followed by the hurried clicking of Sarah's steps towards my door. I returned to my desk and watched her enter the room. The woman had dressed well for the occasion. She wore a coordinated blue blazer and skirt, a nice blouse, and carried an attaché case under her arm. The clothes were a bit out of style, perhaps a leftover from when she was the head of the A/R department of her previous employer some years back, I speculated. But, god, was she nervous. I stood to shake her hand, and she almost tripped over herself in her approach to the desk. She was a skinny thing, maybe a little too skinny for my tastes, with a bra size to match. Her face was fairly nice with striking green eyes, but a few stress lines showed through the makeup surrounding them. She must have been a really attractive girl before the drugs took over. That's what I decided had happened. The gap in her job history, the ambiguity about a criminal conviction, her address in a heroin-infested neighborhood, her "almost-too-thin" appearance, they all pointed to a recent drug addiction. Was this a part of her attempt to kick the habit? "Good morning," I said, "Please have a seat." "Good morning," she replied. I think she must have caught on to the way that I was eyeing her. She seemed yet more self-conscious as she took a seat across from me. I know I was leering, but she still had legs she could be proud of. I pulled out her application and turned over to the page where I'd find what I wanted. "There's no answer here," I started, "about criminal convictions. Are there any?" I sure knew how to start things off on the right foot. I could almost feel her heart sink as I asked the question. How quickly she dropped her attempted self-confidence was a thing to behold. "I...uh... wasn't sure how to answer," she stuttered. "I mean, I ... um ... entered a court-ordered program to treat my problem." "That counts as a conviction," I offered. "You should answer 'yes' to that question on applications." A short pause, as the tears welled up in the corners of her eyes. "What's your addiction to?" I pressed further. "It was heroin, but I swear, I'm off of it. I've been clean for six months now." "I see, and that's why you've been out of work for some time." "Yes." She was trying so hard, I almost felt sorry for her, but I was getting that predatory feeling instead. I could have this woman. "I'll tell you what, if you're really off the drugs, I can do something for you," I said. "Really," her eyes lit up. "If," I continued, "you'll do some naughty things for me." She didn't know what to say, and it showed. Her mouth hung slightly open in an anxiety-inspired pause. "Just say, 'Anything you want' and we'll get started," I coached. Her mouth was slow to react, but did nonetheless. "Anything you want," she said, and it was music to my ears. Just to seal the agreement, I pulled out the 'New Hire' form from my desk. She watched as I filled out her particulars and checked off 'accounting' under 'Department'. At the bottom of the page, I signed my name and dated the form. When done, I placed the "New Hire" form face-up on my desk. "It's right here," I said. "All you have to do is bring this form to the personnel office across the hall, and they'll finish the process." She wanted this badly. You can always tell when an addict wants something badly. "But first, let's see that body of yours." She stood, still self-conscious. She began to unbutton her blazer. "That's not sexy enough," I interrupted. "I want a strip tease." She looked downwards and began to do a little strip tease for me. Not bad really, not enthusiastic, but not bad. I think it really bothered her to be doing it in her nice outfit. I was loving it. I loved getting that good first glimpse of her bra, that first look up her skirt to see her little cotton panties. By the time she got to taking her bra off and stepping lewdly out of her panties, I was hard as a rock. I pulled open another desk drawer and removed a tube of lubricant. "Lube up your ass," I demanded. "Bend over the desk, and lube it up good for me." She looked at me pleadingly. "Not in the ass," she begged. I just held out the tube for her and allowed desperation to make her decision. God, what a nice view. I told you she still had great legs, and her ass was wonderful.It was pure pleasure to see her bent at the hips over the edge of my desk, with her middle finger pushing lubricant up her ass for me. "Keep working it in there," I said. "I need to get ready too." From where I was, I was in good position to reach her face. I unzipped myself and pulled out my cock. Now, I'm not going to say I've got an eleven-inch dick. In fact, I'd say it would be just slightly above average, and I'm a fairly big guy anyway. It is, however, good and thick. I stood and slapped it against her lips in an unspoken command. She took it. "Mmmng, that's a good little cock sucker. Get it ready so I can fuck your ass." She was pretty good at this. I wondered if she had turned a trick or two to support her habit. I watched as she continued to work her fingers in and out of her tight little ass with the lubricant. Obedient too, I liked this girl. I pushed my cock further into her mouth until she began to gag. "Keep on sucking," I warned her. She did. When I'd had my fill, I pulled out and remained with my cock positioned in her face for a while. "Lick my balls." She worked my balls gently in her mouth, all the while lubricating her ass. I was getting a bit overheated and stopped her short. I retrieved a condom from my desk drawer. There was no way I was going to risk getting a disease from some junkie. I began to walk around the desk, and Sarah froze, knowing what was coming next. I pulled her hand away from her ass and slipped a finger of my own in. She was nice and tight. This was going to be good. Anticipation is a wonderful thing. I put on my condom and placed my cock at her rear entrance, then paused to savor the moment. Was that muffled sobbing I heard from Sarah? So much the better. Slowly at first, I pushed my cock into her ass. She'd done a good job of lubricating, but there's just no preparing for the real thing. I heard her gasp as the head went all the way in. I pushed harder now, enjoying the pressure of her tight little hole. "Take it, you junky whore," I said with venom as I pushed all the way in. She began crying again. "Fuck, yeah," I continued. "Are you used to getting fucked for money?" I couldn't believe that I was getting close to cumming after just the first stroke. I tried hard to hold off. As a distraction, I took the time to lean forward and reach under Sarah to grab hold of one of her little tits. When I began to move my cock in and out again, I knew I wouldn't last long, so I decided to give it to her hard right away. I grabbed hold of Sarah's nipple with my right hand and gave it a nasty little pinch before really going to work on her ass. I gave her probably a dozen violent thrusts before feeling my balls explode. "I'm cumming in your ass, you dirty drugged-out whore." With that, I filled the condom and collapsed on Sarah's back, breathing heavily. She lay there, sobbing quietly. When I pulled out, went back to Sarah's front side, and pulled off my condom. "Here's a little something for you," I said, as I discarded the used condom onto the side of her face. She just lay there, silently sobbing, with the cum leaking down her cheek. "I'll leave you alone now, to clean up before you go to the personnel office. Don't be too long. There are some tissues in this drawer," tapping on the top drawer of my file cabinet. With that, I locked the rest of my drawers and went out for lunch. I wondered how long it would take Sarah to compose herself. I sure hoped that the tissues would help. I kept them in the top drawer along with most of the things I'd confiscated from dismissed employees. Well, things like drugs, if you must know. Why, there must have been a week's supply of heroin in that drawer. Speaking of which, it's a good thing Sarah had quit the habit, as I happen to know that the personnel office conducts mandatory drug testing on every new hire.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/Book_Shelf_R/Resume (MF, semi-nc).txt
50,923	Rapemaster	Denise the Hard Worker	You know how it is when you work in an office - good-looking women all around, dressed nicely, showing their legs, smiling. But they've all got boyfriends or husbands, and anyway, when you're the security guard like me, they don't pay much mind. I mean, some are friendly, but they wouldn't go out with you in a million years even if they were single. Sometimes I'd go home and masturbate thinking about these women. But not for the last 18 months. In the last year and a half, my two friends Ray and Harlan and I have had sex with thirteen of these women, and we have another one lined up for this weekend. I'll tell you about the first one, Denise. Denise is this nice-looking married woman who works for Aetna Insurance on the fourth floor of the building I work at. She has light-brown hair, nice brown eyes, big round breasts, good legs, a firm ass, and a trim stomach. She works out with a Stairmaster at home because she says she can't stand these trashy women who let themselves go. She's about three inches shorter than me, so she's 5'7" or so, and I'd say she weighs 130 or 140 pounds. She has a really nice body. Denise was always polite and pleasant to me. Sometimes when I was making the rounds on her floor, checking fire alarms and making sure the empty offices were all locked, I'd hang at her desk for a little while, and we'd chat. It's not like we were good friends or anything, and I never would have dared to try and make a move on her, but we talked about family and what we watched on TV the night before and that kind of stuff. So the way it started was one day, she mentioned to me that her husband was going off for this overnight thing in Rochester and he'd be away Monday and Tuesday nights. She kind of laughed when she said it and said if she was ten years younger, she'd invite friends over and have a party. I told her that she wasn't so old - she's 36 now, she was 35 then - and she told me yeah, but now, at her age, she was just looking forward to having the place to herself for a little while. I told her, "Hell, give me your address, and I'll bring a keg over with some buddies." She kind of blushed and said no, she was an old married lady, and I should be ashamed of myself, but I could tell she wasn't pissed off. So I laughed and left. That night, my buddies Ray and Harlan came over to watch a basketball game - I've got a big-screen TV I bought with a winning Lotto ticket a couple of years ago. While we were watching and soaking up some beer, I mentioned what Denise had told me and what I'd said. Ray looked kind of thoughtful and then he said, "You know, that's not a bad idea - I mean, if this broad is good-looking." I said yeah, she's got a great body on her and she's pretty, too. Ray said, "Well, if she's telling you when her hubbie's gonna be out of town, you can bet she wants it. We should just go over and give it to her." I figured he was kidding and tried to blow it off, but he was serious. He and Harlan started talking about it, with Harlan saying about how we could get in trouble, she might scream or afterwards she could tell her husband or call the cops. That started me thinking, and I said well, I'd heard that a lot of women had fantasies about being like kidnapped and forced to have sex, and maybe Denise was one of them. Then Ray said, "Yeah, and even if she isn't, you think she's going to tell her husband she got fucked by three guys while he was gone? As long as we don't leave any marks on her, she won't say a word." Harlan and I were getting into the idea now, but Harlan said, "Yeah, but we can't be sure, and hell, we could get put in jail for a long time." Ray thought about that for a minute and said, "Okay, we'll take my Polaroid. We take pictures of the bitch getting it up the ass, taking two of us at once, with us coming on her face, everything. We make sure our faces aren't in any of them, but hers is in all of them. We tell her if she says anything, we'll make sure copies of those pictures go to everyone where she works. Hell, Phil can use his scanner and post them on the fucking Internet." Harlan and I thought about that. I said okay, we might as well go for it, and anyway, if we could make her come a couple of times, she'd probably like it too much to tell anyone about it, 'cause usually married people have boring sex lives. The rest of that week was hard. I'd stop off at Denise's desk and get an erection, knowing I was going to be having sex with her on Monday night. On Thursday, she was wearing this white button-up blouse, and the top two buttons were undone, and she showed a lot of cleavage if she bent over a little. I knew she had no idea she'd be sucking my cock in four days, whether she liked it or not, and it really made me crazy. On Friday morning, Ray and Harlan came over to my building on their lunch break and made me point Denise out to them when she came out with her friend Debbie for lunch. Ray made smacking noises with his lips as they walked by, and Harlan just stared. After they went out the door, Harlan turned to me and said, "God, I'm going to love chewing on those melons." Monday afternoon, I went up to Denise's desk at the usual time and acted really upset. She asked me what was wrong, and I told her I'd had to get a ride to work that morning because my car was in the garage - Ray had given me a ride, so that would seem true - and that the friend who was supposed to pick me up had just called and said he couldn't do it, and I didn't know how I was getting home. She looked a little flustered, but then she smiled and said she'd give me a ride. I said I didn't want to take her out of her way, and asked where she lived. She told me up on the other side of campus, towards Dewitt. I said well, if she wanted, she could just drive home, and I'd ride along because I knew a bus ran from that neighborhood that would take me straight home, but I didn't know when the downtown buses ran. It was kind of a stupid story, but she didn't think about it much, just seemed grateful she didn't have to go out of her way. So after work, we got in her car and drove to her place. I had this raging hard-on for her and kept squirming to try and cover it. I could have sworn she was looking at it out of the corner of her eye, but figured I must be imagining it. I looked behind me once at a stoplight and saw that Ray and Harlan were following us as we'd planned in Ray's car. When we got to her house, she pulled all the way into the garage. Before she could even get her seatbelt off, Ray and Harlan pulled in beside her. She looked surprised; I told her, "Look, I know your husband isn't home, so don't give us any trouble, and you won't get hurt." She looked really shocked and upset now. Ray and Harlan had got out of their car. Harlan pulled the garage door closed, and then both of them came up to us on her side of the car. I reached over and unlocked her door and told her to just get out. Ray opened the door and grabbed her arm and pulled her out. She looked terrified now. Harlan was just staring at her. Ray told her to do what she was told, and she wouldn't get hurt. She looked over at me like she was pleading, and said, "Phil..." I shook my head and said, "We're just going to have some fun, we don't want to hurt you, so just do what we tell you, and we'll all have a good time." She was shaking her head now. I felt different from any way I'd ever felt before - more confident and powerful. I stepped over to the door leading into the house and flicked on the overhead light in the garage. Ray still had her arm; now he started tugging her over to the door. "Let's get her inside," he said.I told him no, that the bitch wasn't allowed to wear clothes in our house. She had to undress out here, and we'd lock her clothes in our car. Ray looked at me and said, "Okay, that's cool." Denise looked at me like I was crazy, and Ray said, "You heard him, bitch - strip right here and now." I thought for a minute we were going to have to hit her or at least shake her, but then she sort of trembled from head to foot, took a deep breath, and started unbuttoning her blouse. "I'll do whatever you want," she kind of whispered, almost too low to be heard. "Just don't hurt me, please." We all watched while she took her clothes off. She was slow and clumsy about it because her hands were shaking. She took the blouse off first and held it for a minute; I could tell she didn't want to drop it on the garage floor. I said for her to fold it and put it on Ray's hood. She did, then started unzipping her skirt. Harlan said, "No, do the bra, I want to see those tits." I said, "Wait, let her get down to her underwear and then strip from there. I want to see her in bra and panties and stockings." So she did that, unzipping the skirt after a few tries and stepping out of it. She was wearing a plain white bra and panties, and she looked good, with her dark bush underneath the panties and her big tits pushing the bra out. Then I told her to take the bra off. She did, and her tits were sexy as hell with nice big dark nipples like you see in magazine centerfolds and not too much sag. Then she pushed her pantyhose off and stepped out of her heels when she did it. She was just wearing panties now. She went to take them off, but I said, "No, sit up on Ray's hood." She looked confused, but she went over to the car and hoisted herself up on the hood, facing me. I walked over to her, hooked my thumbs through either side of her panties, and pulled them off her. She kind of whimpered as I did it. Then I spread her legs and put two fingers inside her cunt, pressing my thumb against her clit. She gasped. I knew it was going to be all right then because she was soaking wet. We took her inside then and did everything we could think of to her. The first room inside the door was the kitchen, and we put her over the kitchen table right there, got undressed, and fucked her every which way. They had a nice mahogany table, and the first thing I did was tell Ray to sit down in a chair in front of it. I made Denise squat on his cock, facing him, and then I asked her if she'd ever got her ass fucked. She said, "Oh god, no," and I stepped up behind her and started trying to stuff my cock up her ass. Her ass was so tight I knew she was telling the truth. After a minute or so, I still couldn't shove the head in, so I got some Wesson oil off the counter, took the cap off, and shoved the end of the bottle up her ass. She kind of yelled, and I knew it must have hurt having the ridged plastic shoved in like that. I gave the bottle a quick back and forth shake inside her, then pulled it out and shoved my cockhead back up against her asshole. She was slick now, and I slid right up into her. She kind of groaned. I told her she better get busy fucking Ray, and I started pumping her ass hard. Then Harlan said, "Hey, what about me?" and I told him to get up on the table and she'd suck his cock. He knelt on the table to one side of Ray, and Denise twisted her head away from his cock. I grabbed her by the hair and said she'd better suck my friend or she'd get really hurt. Tears were running down her face now, streaking her eye makeup, and she leaned over and opened her mouth and took the first few inches of Harlan's cock. He put a hand on her head and started pumping her face up and down his shaft, groaning. I could hear her choking as she sucked. I put my hand on her head and pulled her off his cock for a minute, still pumping my prick in and out of her greasy asshole. "Jesus Christ," I said, "don't you ever suck your husband's dick for him?" She gasped, "No, that's dirty." I said, "Haven't you ever had a cock in your mouth?" She said that once, when she was drunk in high school, her boyfriend put his prick in her mouth and came without warning her, and she puked. I said, "Well, we're all gonna be coming in your mouth tonight, and you're going to swallow it and not puke, so get used to it." Then I shoved her face back down at Harlan's prick. She went, 'gahhh,' but opened up and took his cock again in her mouth. He grabbed her hair again and started yanking her head up and down the length of his cock. When he came, we made sure she swallowed all of it, even though it made her gag. Then I made her get on her knees and thank us for fucking her in all her holes, and after she kind of choked that out, I made her beg us to fuck her some more, any way we liked. "Please do anything you want to me," she said. "Just don't hurt me." After that, we just did whatever we could think of. We took her in her living room and balled her on the floor, three at once, two at once, or taking turns while the others watched. Ray took a lot of really hot pictures of her just like he'd said - her with cocks in her mouth, her with come on her face, her with a cock up her ass and one in her pussy at the same time, her with sperm dribbling out of her mouth and her pussy and her ass. After the first half hour or so, she didn't give us any trouble at all; we'd just tell her to do something, and she'd bend over or get down on her knees or open her mouth or spread her legs or pull her asscheeks apart or whatever. We all came in her mouth at least once, and after the first time with Harlan, when she gagged a little, she just gulped it down like a pro. I noticed that except when she had to move around the room for us, she kept her eyes closed all the time, but we didn't care. By 8:30, we'd all come in her at least three times each, and we were resting, sitting on the couch and the recliner while she stayed on her hands and knees on the floor like we'd told her. I told her to crawl around on all fours and bark for us, and after a second, she started doing it, crawling around the floor and making little arf sounds. I called her over to me and made her lick off my cock, which was all sticky. Then we told her to go out and fix us something to eat. We didn't even bother to watch her that close. She made us a real nice spaghetti dinner with salad and some decent frozen garlic bread that she microwaved. We mostly stayed in the living room watching TV, but occasionally one of us would get up and go out in the kitchen and grab a feel of tit or ass or pussy. It really made me feel good to see her moving around her kitchen totally naked with come splatters all over her, making us dinner. The second time I went out, I bent her over the sink and slipped my cock up her cunt from behind and stirred it there for a few seconds. She just stood still, bent over the sink, while I did it, not saying anything or making any move at all. My hands were on her asscheeks, holding them apart, and I popped my thumb into her anus. "Tell me you love this," I said, grinding my hips against her ass with my cock up her pussy and rotating my thumb in her asshole. "I love it," she whispered. "I love it." When I pulled out of her, I patted her on the ass and told her to get back to work; she just straightened up and went back to the stove with the pan full of water she was getting, without even looking at me. After dinner, we got really imaginative. We turned a coffee table over so its legs were pointing up in the air and made Denise squat down on one and take it way up her cunt. Then one of us would sit on the couch in front of her, and she'd suck his dick for him while another knelt behind her and fucked her asshole some more. When I fucked her asshole that time, my cock slipped in nice and smooth; she might have been virgin at 5:30, but she was broken in now. We'd already come a lot, so we weren't really trying to come that much again. Ray took some more pictures of Denise fucking the coffee table and the two of us. Then he made her get a pen and write on a piece of paper that she was just a slut and she'd invited us all over and she loved everything we'd done with her and we'd made her come a lot and she wanted us to come back next time her husband was away. He made her sign it. He was going to keep it, but I took it and put it in my pocket, saying I'd keep it safe. At 11:00, Ray and Harlan were pretty much all fucked out, so they decided to take off. I said I was going to spend the night, and Denise would drive me to work in the morning. She didn't even look up from where she was kneeling on the rug when I said it, just kind of nodded. Ray and Harlan left. I looked over at her and told her to go put on something sexy like a negligee. She looked a little upset but got up and left the room. When she came back, she was wearing a housecoat and seemed like she was going to cry. I said, "That's sexy?" She said she didn't have anything that sexy to wear. I realized that she and her husband must have had a really boring sex life. I told her to come sit by me on the couch. She came over and sat down. I reached into the front of the housecoat and started thumb-rubbing her nipples and squeezing her big knockers. She just closed her eyes and let her head fall against my shoulder, but I could hear her breathing get kind of raspier. I pushed the housecoat down off her shoulders so it puddled around her waist and started sucking her nipples hard, moving from one to the other. She didn't make a sound, but her breathing got faster. Then I sat up again, put my hand on the back of her neck, and pushed her head down into my lap. She didn't say anything, just took my cock into her mouth and started pumping her head up and down like we'd taught her.I loved looking down and seeing her brown hair moving up and down in my lap, feeling her sucking my cock like an experienced whore. I called her a slut and a cocksucking tramp and told her I knew she loved it and that from then on she was my whore and she'd do whatever I told her to. She just kept pumping her head up and down without making a sound except the soft slurping noise of her sucking. After ten minutes or so, I shot off in her mouth again, not much this time since it was the sixth time for me, but she swallowed what there was and kept sucking until I told her she could stop. I took her to the bedroom after Leno was over and slept like a baby. I made her sleep on the floor beside the bed. The next day, I wouldn't let her get dressed until after she'd cooked my breakfast, and while she was doing it, I bent her over the sink again and fucked her ass hard. It's great coming first thing in the morning in the ass of another man's wife. Even without lubrication, she was smooth and easy to get up into. The whole time, she didn't say a word or make a sound, just bent over the sink and took it with her eyes closed. She never said a word to anyone about what had happened, and that night I went home with her again. I hadn't told Ray and Harlan that her husband would be away two nights, so it was just her and me. She undressed in the garage without me saying a word and spent the whole evening doing whatever I told her to. Since then, Ray, Harlan, and I have done a dozen other women the same way, and no one has ever reported us. But Denise is still my favorite. I don't share her with the other guys anymore, but she knows there are rules. When I go up to her office now, she knows that first, she has to be wearing something that I can look down the front of and see her nipples, and she has to give me a chance to, too. She also knows that at some point while I'm by her desk, she has to find a way to get down on her knees while I'm watching and wait for me to nod before she gets back up. Her desk has a three-sided moveable partition around it, so it's in a little cubicle, but still, it's in a big room full of those cubicles, and people can see if they walk past or even glance over. Sometimes, if the people in the cubicles closest to her are away from their desks when I get there, I stand next to her desk and slip out my cock and make her take it in her mouth and suck it while I pump in and out of her face a couple of times. She gets nervous, but no one has ever seen us. She also knows that if I touch her at all while I'm there, that's a signal that she has to go down to the garage and wait in her car for me. Two or three times a week, she spends one of her fifteen-minute breaks in the front seat of her car, bent over with her head bobbing in my lap, sucking me off. She's gotten to the point where she can bring me off in five minutes flat and swallow everything I shoot without gagging. Two or three times a month, I make her tell her husband she has to work late and take her back to my apartment and fuck her every which way. She also has to cook my dinner and clean the place up for me. And whenever her husband travels, which is maybe six or seven times a year, I spend the night at her house. She says her sex life with her husband is still totally boring and normal, but with me, she's a completely trained and submissive little house slut. The next woman we did was named Caroline, and she was a little different.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/Book_Shelf_D/Denise the Hard Worker (M+F, work, nc).txt
50,944	Anonymous Author	Deep Massage (MF)	You have just found the place you were looking for. Your friends said you MUST visit this special Paris massage parlor. They refused to give you any details, but they promised you would not be sorry. The beautiful woman at the front desk of Chez Child checks your reservation and lets you into a small shower room. The room is warm and has bright lights for heating and tanning. You take off your skirt and blouse, and admire yourself in the mirror. Then you take off your heels, nylons, bra, and panties. You put all of your clothes in a small numbered locker. Most of the small room is taken up by the shower area, and there is no shower curtain. But the warm lights and the warm water really make you feel good all over. As you rub soap over your breasts, you pose for yourself in the mirrors. You like the way you look, and you are starting to get excited while you watch yourself rub and squeeze your erect nipples. You turn around and bend over to soap your legs. You catch a view of yourself in the mirror as you look between your legs. You spread the cheeks of your ass to rinse the soap off, and rub your pussy until your inner lips become swollen. When you stop the shower, you see the cute French bidet. You heard about these but never saw one before, so you try it. There is a soft leather cushion for you to sit on while you spray the warm water on your pussy. You start to get really turned on, because you can see yourself really well in the mirror. You spread your pussy lips wide so the water sprays deep inside you. After playing with your clitoris for a few minutes, you start to shiver and shake with a beautiful orgasm. Ummmmmmm. While showering and using the bidet, you were waiting for a green light to come on over the exit door. Now it goes on, and you hear the exit unlock from the other side. When you go through the door, you see another small mirrored room. There is a long, narrow, padded massage table with a towel for you to wrap yourself in. You lay down on your stomach, covered with the towel, and wait for the masseur. He comes in from a side door. He looks very polite and professional. And he is very good looking. But he is blindfolded. He knows you are there, but he can't see you. As he starts to spread oil over your back, the lights start to get dim. You are really enjoying the massage, which never touches you in a sexual way. In fact, you start to wish he would slip a hand under your breast or between your legs, but he doesn't. Suddenly, with the lights dim, you realize you can see THROUGH the mirror in front of you into the shower room you just left. It is a one-way mirror. In the bright lights of the other room, you see another woman get undressed. And while your masseur is rubbing oil on you, you watch the other woman do the same things you did. You watch her pose in the mirrors while soaping her breasts. You watch her bend over and turn her ass towards you. And you know that she can't see you. She is just playing with herself in the mirror. And you watch her masturbate in the bidet, just like you did. You know the masseur can't see any of this. Only you can. And he doesn't even know for sure if you are watching the other woman. You are getting so horny you can't stand it. You aren't covered by the towel anymore, but he just won't touch your nipples or pussy. You strain and twist your body every way you can to try to make him touch you sexually. You spread your legs wide while on your back, but he only rubs the inside of your thighs. You force your breasts against his hands, but he always misses your nipples. You get on hands and knees and point your ass and pussy high towards his face. But he can't see you, and only slightly rubs the edges of your pussy. In fact, he starts to rub all around your pussy lips, which are now wide open and hungry. But his fingers never touch the inner lips. You feel hollow and ache. You push your own fingers in your pussy and, in only a few seconds, you scream in a wild orgasm, coming almost at the same time as the woman on the other side of the mirror in the bidet. Suddenly the lights get bright. He hands you your towel and leads you out the back door into a third room. This time HE lays face up on the massage table, and he pushes his hands into cuffs. You hear something click, and you see he can't get his hands free. Then the lights go out completely. As your eyes get used to the darkness, you realize that you can now see into the middle room. You see the other woman lay down on the massage table. Suddenly you understand. You almost tear his pants as you rip them down his legs. His swollen cock is yours to do with as you please, or not please. You straddle his stomach, and lean your breast into his face, and his mouth closes eagerly over your aching nipple. You have another orgasm as he sucks on you while you rub your pussy on his belly. This one is so good that your legs and belly quiver and shake with it for several minutes. By the time the other woman has raised her wide open ass and pussy into the air, POINTING RIGHT AT YOU through the mirror, you are ready. You slide the rest of the way down his cock until it fills you completely. And while the other masseur is teasing the other woman's pussy, you have the most tremendous series of non-stop orgasms you have ever had. You almost pass out from head to toe waves of unbelievable pleasure. The lights come on, and you are completely exhausted. You hug your masseur warmly and kiss his mouth, tongues probing lovingly. And you whisper, "What is your name? I must meet you again, soon." His cuffs unlock automatically, and he takes off his blindfold. He softly locks his eyes with yours, and he lifts and carries you through the last door. You are still joined, his penis buried hard, tight and deep in your wet, trembling pussy. Your arms and legs are wrapped around his strong back. He slides you up and down his penis slowly, once... twice. And he whispers, "We are not done yet." Your masseur carries you into the next room, and carefully sits in a narrow reclining swivel chair. His strong arms hold you tightly so that you are not bounced uncomfortably. As he leans back, he relaxes his grip so that you can move freely. You find yourself half sitting in his lap, and half laying on his strong, muscular chest. And he is still deeply embedded in your body. There are no sides to the recliner. You carefully lower your legs to the floor on each side of him. His arms are now completely relaxed, but strong and ready to support you if you lean against them. You slowly try to stand up, and find that you have enough room to lift yourself completely off of him. If you wanted to, you could get up and walk away. But you don't. You are in love with this strong, gentle stranger. All you want to do is squirm back down, squeezing every inch of his thick cock with your quivering vaginal muscles. You bury your face next to his neat beard, rubbing your cheek on the curly bristles between his chin and his neck. And he swings the chair around to face the other wall. Then you remember things aren't always what they seem. When you look over his shoulder, you know what to expect. You think you will see that other woman raping her handcuffed masseur. But, you are wrong. Instead, you see two women sharing one narrow massage table. The nearest woman is leaning over the near end, with her pussy spread wide in your direction. She is stretched out on her stomach, and has her arms wrapped around the hips of the far woman. She is softly licking and sucking on the far woman's inner thighs and pussy. She is also dipping her hands in bowls of oil next to the massage table.She takes the oil and rubs it everywhere she can reach on the far woman's body, especially the breasts. You can see her gently squeezing and pulling on the far woman's nipples. In the meantime, a different masseur is getting ready to join in. He is completely nude, just like the man under you. He has a long thin hose which is pouring a small, gentle stream of liquid. He starts spraying the liquid over the near woman's thighs, ass, and pussy. Then, still holding the hose in position, he steps up to her. Your view is blocked. But you know he is rubbing his cock in and out of her pussy, and at the same time is spraying that liquid around his cock and on her pussy. You are so excited by what is going on that you can't stand it. You watch the liquid running down their legs and draining into holes in the floor. Every quiver and shiver of the woman's legs and ass cheeks is matched by your own quivers and shivers. You lift up and down on your toes, sliding your pussy up and down your man's cock. Every muscle spasm in your legs is matched by a muscle spasm inside your hot, steaming love box. You come, and come, and come until you almost pass out. When you finally stop moving and collapse on his chest, you can still feel him inside of you. Every nerve is standing on end, and your clitoris is buzzing like a bumblebee. Rubbing it on the base of your man's penis only makes it buzz more. The masseur and his partner have apparently finished enjoying themselves. He strokes her legs and pussy with more liquid, and then goes over to the far woman. He helps that woman stand up, and the two of them head for the door. She is leaning heavily on his arm. You see that she is still shaking from head to toe with spasms. Her fingers are busy rubbing her pussy, as though she hasn't had enough yet. She is practically bow-legged, as she holds and rubs her crotch while leaving the room. The door closes behind them. Your man gently pulls himself out of you, and leads you into that room. In the meantime, the near woman rolls onto her back and slides up to the far end of the massage table. Now, in a flash, you understand everything. You know what to expect. You know who this other woman is. Not her name, of course. But you know she watched you while you showered and masturbated on the bidet. While she was watching you, she was having her pussy teased. You know she watched you while you had your pussy teased, in turn. When you were on your hands and knees begging for your masseur to rub inside your pussy, she was sliding onto her man's captive penis. When you masturbated yourself in front of your blindfolded man, she was having a hard cock climax. But, she didn't see you finally squirm onto your man's cock in the third room. That was private between you and your man. While that was happening, she was watching two other women do things. These were things the two of you were now about to do. You feel a warm kinship with this woman. She was getting excited watching you, just as you did with someone else. Now you want to add your personal touch. You stretch out over the end of the table to reach her. There isn't enough room for both of you, but that's OK. You reach your arms around her hips and bury your face in her hot, juicy pussy. It smells strongly of spices and oils. In fact, the whole room smells like that. You see the bowl of oil on each side of the table. You dip your hands in the oil and spread it as far as you can reach. You rub her nipples and gently squeeze them. Her pussy is wide open, begging for you to stick your whole face, your whole head inside. You feel her constant, non-stop twitching, shivering and shaking. Under your tender care, the orgasms don't stop. But they become smoother, more regular. Suddenly you feel a warm liquid splash over your own twitching, itchy pussy. It feels wonderful. Your man is standing behind you, and is playing with you. He gently splashes the flow over your thighs, and pussy, and up and down your ass. He even slips a small finger inside your asshole, but just for a second. It was almost like he knew that you had an itch there. In fact, you itch everywhere in your crotch. You are busy loving the woman in front of you, but you are also squirming your ass around. You aim your pussy as high as it will go, and spread your legs as wide as possible, begging him to give it to you, hard. Then you feel him enter your hot, yearning pussy. Suddenly, he thrusts hard: once, twice, three times. Then you feel him pushing and pounding and shooting his hot sperm deep inside you. You go crazy and explode with orgasm after orgasm, earthquake after earthquake, right along with him. You feel your cum pouring out, mixing with his hot sperm. It seems to go on forever, in slow motion. He spurts, you spurt. He pulses, you contract around his cock. He draws back, you try to suck him back in like a vacuum cleaner. He thrusts forward, you squeeze him and spurt at the same time. Over and over. You can feel the warm hose gushing, his hot cock gushing, and your pussy gushing, forever. Slowly, the volcano subsides. You are on fire. Your face is burning, your pussy is an inferno of heat and desire. Then you feel the continued warm (but deliciously cool) liquid from the hose starting to soothe your burning insides. The liquid continues to stream all over your pussy and legs, washing you. You finally lift your face out of the other woman's pussy. You smile apologetically, because you got a little rough with her. While you were climaxing, you almost sucked her clit right out of her pussy. But she wasn't complaining. Her pelvis was pushing against your mouth so hard you almost split a lip. She is smiling now, and is holding your face in her hands. Her eyes are shiny, almost as if she is going to cry. You whisper to her, "Wait for me outside." She nods, and gets up. Your man slowly pulls out of you and gently rubs down your legs and pussy with more liquid. Then he massages the inside of your pussy for a few seconds with his fingers. It is like he is saying "Thank you," and, "Good bye." Then he comes around the table and helps the other woman out the door. Suddenly you remember. The very first, other woman was watching this. She and her masseur are now coming into the room. She was the one that you first saw in the shower. She really turned you on while you watched her masturbate on the bidet. And you got a good hot look at her open, straining pussy when she was in the middle room. She was being teased. Her aching pussy lips were being rubbed all around but not inside. You watched her frantic wiggling, trying to impale herself on her man's fingers. You watched her masturbate in frustration while you were filling your pussy to capacity with your man's captive cock. She didn't know she was being watched, then. But she must have been watching YOU a minute ago. She knows the score, now, too. You climb the rest of the way onto the massage table, and lay down on your back. Your knees are wide apart, and you watch her coming over to you. There isn't enough room for her, but she knows what you want. She knows your hot itchy pussy is wide open for her tender care. You want her cool mouth on you. You want her tongue to lick you inside and out. You want her to bury her face and head inside you, so that she can soothe the jerky, quivering spasms racing through your body. You want to swallow her up with your pussy to fill the aching hollow need. She wants to satisfy you, too. She is gentle. She strokes your pussy, inside and out, with her lips and tongue, while she rubs your sides, chest and nipples with her hands. She spreads oil all over you and soothes your jangled nerves. You almost fall asleep, because she is so gentle and loving. Her face is buried in you from chin to eyebrows. But the orgasms don't stop. They are softer now, but still come in a continuous stream of rolling pleasure. Wave after wave. Then, she starts getting crazy. She squeezes your nipples harder. She sucks and licks faster. Her eyes jump up to meet yours in horror, and she almost looks like she is BEGGING you to do something. Then, ZOWIE, her eyes open and close frantically. She sucks so hard she almost tears your clitoris out. You know exactly what is happening. She is getting the best climax of her life at the same time. It is more than you can take. You go into another round of impossible orgasms, half because of her mouth on you, and half because of remembering what is was like for you a few minutes ago. The two of you buck and twist and push against each other. You try to push yourself down to her end of the table. Her tongue isn't enough. You want to feel her man's cock. You want him to push it through her and deep inside of you, deeper than her tongue can reach. You want her man, NOW, but it's impossible. There is no more energy left to do anything. It's over. Time to go home. You stroke your new friend's face, and you want to hug her till you cry. The two of you have just shared unbelievable ecstasy together. She mumbles something to you and you nod. You struggle off the table. You can hardly stand up. You can't control your legs, because everything is shaking. If you didn't know better, you'd say you were still having more orgasms. It sure feels like it. You are horny, and squirming and shivering and feel hot flashes of pleasure from head to toe. You try to walk to the door, and can't stop rubbing yourself. You bend your knees and stick your fingers inside and rub, fast and hard. You can't stop. It's like scratching an itch. You can't leave it alone, and scratching only makes it itch more. You feel a strong arm around your waist, holding you up. It is her man. As the door closes behind you, you lean against it.You reach for his cock with both hands and pull him to you. He is a stranger, but you want him. He surrounds your hands with his own and helps you squeeze. He gently rubs his tongue across your nipples and gives both of them a slow, gentle suck, sending sparks through your pussy. His mouth reaches for yours, and you kiss slowly, deeply, forever, with tongues probing. He then gently rubs your burning love box with his hand. He softly and slowly itches the inside of your pussy for you with his fingers. Your vaginal muscles have now settled into a rapid, smooth, unstoppable orgasm. The rhythm of contractions keeps steady pace with your racing heartbeats. He understands why you are pulling his cock towards your pussy lips: his fingers just aren't reaching high enough inside you. Still standing, he gently inserts his throbbing cock into your perpetual motion squeeze box. The edge around the head of his penis is exactly what you were begging for. It reaches deep and rubs all of the hot itchy spots inside you perfectly. He whispers in your ear, "Now it's my turn."	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/Book_Shelf_D/Deep Massage (MF).txt
51,013	Cynthia B_ _ _ _	Dog Rape (A True Story)	You'd be surprised how many women and their dogs have sex. My Sam is a great lover. The story that I am about to relate really happened to me last summer. I am not lying. I was in the backyard of my house one summer day, lying naked by the pool as I usually do. (I live on 40 acres, so no one is around.) With the warm summer sun baking my naked body, I started to get a little turned on. The warm sun, a cool breeze, and a couple of drinks will do that. I have had a relationship with my dog Sam for quite some time, and we are both very in tune with each other's needs. I called Sam over to me while I was laying by the pool, and he came up to me between my legs and proceeded to lick me. After a short while, we walked out to the lawn (the pool deck is kind of hard to kneel on). I bent down on all fours so Sam could mount me. Sam came over to me and jumped up on me, starting to hump me as he usually does. I felt his cock ramming in and out of me, and then I felt his knot pop inside of me. I knew we were tied. After a few minutes, he slid off of me and turned around, as all dogs who are tied do. I could feel his cock pumping his hot liquid into me, with each jerking spasm I could feel another load of his cum shooting into me. I, of course, was masturbating away, as I usually did. Sam's cock (when fully erect) is about 8 inches, not including the 3-inch knot. Having that much cock inside of you has to be the best feeling in the world. After about 25 minutes, Sam started to go soft on me and eventually slid out of me. I turned over and lay on the grass, watching his cum run out of me. That's when it happened. I heard a rustling in the bushes behind me as I turned around, and three other male dogs emerged from the bushes - a Labrador, a mutt, and a Great Dane! I must admit I was scared, laying there naked. I figured they must have caught my scent or have seen Sam fucking me! I started to get up from the grass, but as I did, the Great Dane grabbed me from behind and started humping me! I tried to fight him off, but he was too big and too strong. I felt his cock enter me, and I became even more terrified. He was HUGE! I reached back to get him out of me, and the dog forced my shoulders to the ground. He entered me time and time again; he must have been at least 10 inches, with his knot being as big around as a ripe orange. As he fucked me, the other 2 dogs kept trying to mount me anywhere they could. Sam tried to fight them off of me, but he was too tired from his experience with me. After the Great Dane tied with me, all of my strength to fight him off had gone, so I decided to enjoy this experience. I had never had a cock that big in me before, and it did hurt, but because he had stretched me to the limit, I could feel every vein in his cock. I could actually feel his cum shoot down his long shaft and then into me each time it happened. At this point, the other 2 dogs were overcome with excitement, and I could tell they wanted me next. The mutt found his way under me and started licking me, which I enjoyed very much. The Labrador came up to me, so I started jerking him off while the Great Dane kept pumping his load into me. I started to get more turned on by the minute...I was getting raped by three dogs! The thought of it excited me to no end! After the Great Dane had finished with me, he pulled out and licked his cum out of me, and as soon as he stepped away, the Labrador hopped on me and started humping away! He was determined to have me next. It was easy for him to enter me since the Great Dane had stretched me and left me soaking! The Labrador pumped away, and I felt his knot slipping in and out of me until it finally grew big enough to get stuck in me. At this point, Sam was really getting pissed and tried to defend me again, but I told him to stay and sit. He did and continued to watch his mistress getting mounted over and over again by these three strange dogs. After a while, the Labrador finally slipped out of me. I was totally exhausted at this point (this had been going on for over an hour now), but I thought it was only fair to give the mutt his chance in me also. Now, before I describe this experience, I must describe the mutt. He was a mix of what I have to guess as Mastiff, Dane, and Labrador. He didn't look as large as the Great Dane in size, so I didn't pay much attention to him. Well, he came behind me and grabbed onto me with his front paws and started to mount me. I decided to make this quick as I was getting tired, so I reached back to help him into me and speed things up. When I reached back to grab his cock, I got the surprise of my life! He had the biggest cock I had ever seen in my whole life...he was almost the size of a small horse! He must have been at least 5 inches around and 11 inches long, with his knot the size of a softball! I guided him into me as quickly as I could, but I held back the knot. (If that got in me, I thought it would kill me.) I held onto his knot and thrust him into me again and again until he reached his full size. I thought to myself I had already had enough cock in me for one day, so I slowly pulled him out and turned around so I could see this beautiful cock of his. My god, was it huge! I decided to let him keep cumming as long as he could, so I lay on my back and let him cum all over me while I rubbed it on my body and genitals. He kept shooting load after load onto me. I would have to guess he came close to enough to fill an 8-ounce soda bottle. After he finished cumming on me, he went soft, but he came over to me and proceeded to start licking his cum off of me. When he started doing this, the other 3 dogs (including Sam) started helping him, and I came one last time in a tongue bath by these dogs. After they finished, they ran off into the woods, never to be seen again, and I collapsed onto the grass next to Sam. I hope they return someday.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/Book_Shelf_D/Dog Rape (F-dogs, nc).txt
51,065	P. Thomas/A. Tourney	Deep Deprivation	Year by year, my eyes grew weaker. The myopia was intimately linked to the swelling of my breasts; I was becoming voluptuous and blind at the same time. As the spheres lengthened into pears, the retinae withdrew further from the lenses and chambers, till they almost vanished behind the masses of vitreous jelly. The delicate lenses, the rich fluids, the miraculous array of refractive media were almost worthless. Lush growth of the body, lush loss of sight. I dreaded the torment of dilation at my yearly eye exams, but the long wait with my eyes closed was never as painful as I feared. Under my eyelids, my corneae moved back and forth as if I were reading. I saw words in that red, stinging darkness. I saw a poetry of helplessness, abandonment, and calm boredom. In the verses, spirits with smooth, cool hands lifted me, removed my clothes, and laid me down, then stroked the limbs that were growing so fast that the bones ached. As I waited for the chemicals to coax my pupils open, I floated in a haze of sensuous impatience. I loved sitting in the optometrist's chair. I loved the moment when he closed the door, turned off the light, and leaned over me as he trained a narrow beam back and forth across my eyes. So quiet in the darkened room, except for the spearmint-scented susurration of his breath. I almost fainted from the images his grave mouth breathed into my mind. Premonitions of adult desire, dreams of slow lovemaking. With one chilly, odorless hand, he clasped the soft flesh under my jaw. His lips were so close to mine that I lost oxygen and felt drunk. In the seam of light, I saw the edge of his skull illuminated; I saw the radiant cobwebs under the skin and imagined I was studying the most intimate parts of his body. Suddenly, he switched off the flashlight and stepped back into the darkness. I saw the silhouette of an amiable gnome. I blinked, startled. The things he instructed me to do aroused me like a lover's orders. Take off your glasses for one hour once a week. Practice feeling your way around the house, negotiating the furniture with your fingertips. Locate the telephone, the first-aid kit, and the fire extinguisher. Feel the dials on the stove, so you can turn it off if necessary. Memorize the landscapes of your face and body. Learn the secrets of their unfolding parts. These things you will need to know if you lose your glasses. I did as he said, but it was much easier than I had thought. I already had the instinct; I could see with my hands. Without realizing it, I had developed a perfect visual memory--every object that I saw, I saved in a hoard of images for some future time when I could no longer see. I wanted to follow the incantatory rules the doctor had given me, but I was already an expert at the game. My vision--a porridge of color and light--simply wasn't weak enough for me to pretend I was completely blind. I tried tying scarves and shawls around my eyes, but few fabrics are truly opaque. There was always that caul of light, a presence I sensed more than saw. I wanted deep deprivation. I wanted the warm, burnt-umber darkness that I saw when I closed my eyes, but my eyelids tended to snap open when I least wanted to see. Nothing could weigh them down. When I tried to seal them shut with tape, they fluttered like trapped moths. I didn't want less sight; I wanted more darkness. Years later, a lover bought me my first blindfold. It was a kidney-shaped, black nylon mask, with two elastic bands to secure it to my head. I loved the practical details of it: the efficient elastic, the neat hem, the clinical scent of the fabric. This was an instrument of love, carefully made to give me blindness. When I put it on for the first time and saw a half-moon of light under the nosepiece, I cried. "You have to be able to breathe," my lover said, exasperated. "It's just a little light. You don't want to be completely cut off, do you?" But I did. Under the blindfold's blissful obscurity, the white sliver was an insult. I strapped the blindfold on my head and lay on my back on the floor. The light hurt me. Even those weak waves carried a wrack of remembered sight. I went to a fabric store and tested one swathe after another, searching for the least transparent cloth. I needed the tightest warp and weft possible: this was a critical tool of desire. A saleswoman offered to help me. I told her I needed a fabric I couldn't see through; she assumed I was looking for a cloth that would hide the outline of my body in sunlight. There are so many degrees between transparency and opacity. She couldn't help, and as I held up yard after yard of cloth against the glare of the fluorescent bulbs, she began to edge away. Finally, I chose a soft black Lycra blend. I bought five yards. I've always been clumsy with sewing machines; the hungry thrust of the needle scares me. I was so nervous as I sewed my first blindfold, so anxious and greedy, that I drove the needle through my finger. I don't think there's anything more beautiful than a blindfolded woman. I love the way the knotted cloth molds the hair. I love the way the mouth and nostrils quiver under the new burden of sensation. I love the slow, mute oscillation of the head. I photographed myself blindfolded. I showed the pictures to a former lover, one who had forgotten most of my secrets. "Who's that?" he laughed. "The latest S/M poster child?" "It's me," I said, waiting. "No way." He turned the black-and-white photos upside-down. He held them at arm's length. "They're horrifying. You look like you're facing a firing squad." He was right. Under the blindfold, I had the hard-lipped pallor of a woman stepping off the edge of life. In most of the pictures, I was wearing a black lace bra and panties, but in two of the photos, I was naked. A layer of hard gooseflesh over my breasts made me look like I'd been frozen. My nipples were tight and colorless. I took the photographs back. When I got home, I tore up the images and melted the negatives over the stove. I enjoyed the acrid odor of burning film. Its ugly sensibility soothed me. There's no rebuke in an odor like that. It's just the predictable result of a chemical reaction. I couldn't help photographing myself blindfolded. The worst thing about being deprived of sight was that I couldn't see myself in that state of vacant exhilaration. My sister and I were sitting in the car, waiting for her boyfriend to come out of a liquor store. We talked idly. Which would you rather be, if you had to make a choice, she asked--deaf or blind? Deaf, I said quickly. I'd have an excuse not to talk on the telephone. I wouldn't have to listen to the yelp of stray TV sets. In my gauze of silence, I would do nothing but read books. She would be blind, she said. She had worked with deaf students in a sign language class. With graceful urgency, they had told her how hearing people patronized them, avoided them, and finally shunned them. "Isolation isn't as thrilling as you think," my sister scolded. "Then there's no decent answer to your question," I said. When she asked the question, I hadn't considered my love of darkness. I hadn't thought about the long, blank hours I spent wearing the blindfold for my lover. He loved to see me wear it when I was naked; as well as he knew my body, he never recognized it when my eyes were covered. He would tell me to feel my way through the apartment while he followed me, watching as I gingerly groped the furniture and batted at the uncurtained windows. He would make me sit endlessly in an empty room, waiting for him to make love to me. Once he drove me out to the redwoods, led me deep into the forest, told me to undress, and blindfolded me. I don't know how long I sat naked, curled up in the spongy lap of one of those giant trees, panicking as I inhaled and exhaled silence.It was that waiting--half languor, half terror--that I loved. When my sister and I compared deafness and blindness, we listed practicalities. We talked about people and machines, and whether we would miss the sight or sound of them. We didn't talk about the helplessness, or the hours of patience enforced by sensory deprivation--but we were enduring them as we spoke. Here we were, two women in an unlocked car, perspiring in the heat and scraping at fly specks on the windows and twirling our hair around our fingers. For the past half-hour, we'd been waiting for a man to comparison-shop for wine while the midsummer sun turned the vinyl upholstery to butter. And here he was, at last, cradling his bottles of forgetfulness as he emerged from the liquor store. Moments like this are small foretastes of oblivion. The deeper draught is blindness. People laugh when I tell them I can't hear speech without my contact lenses. It's true. They don't realize how much comprehension depends on a clear view of the moving mouth. Speech irritates me when I'm blindfolded--my lover issues his commands in soft, clipped phrases that barely break our silence. I don't want anything to distract me. I don't want to hear anything but the deepest evidence of desire: the constrained flow of his breath, the liquid clearing of his throat, the reverberation of a stifled moan inside his chest. My lover blindfolded me and tied my hands behind my back with a nylon cord. He gently pushed me to my knees and told me to search for his penis with my mouth. I thought of the doctor's office, the cold hands guiding me to the chair as my burning eyes struggled to see. The eyes are irritable and sensitive, guarded by a muscular reflex, but they long to stay open. They want to flex their amazing mechanisms, even when we long for darkness; they have a cruel will. My lips grazed my lover's swollen cock. I had found it by echolocation, hearing the pitch of its minute tremor. I nuzzled it, wove my tongue around the head, then slowly eased the shaft down my throat. He swallowed. He's not supposed to moan or sigh when we do this, or murmur my name, or groan when he comes. I can only touch him with my lips and tongue. He started binding my hands because I couldn't keep from touching him; when my eyes are disabled, my hands immediately take their place. My lover ordered me to stop. I didn't want to stop; in my hunger, I was as stubborn as a newborn. I loved the pacific sucking. Deep in my throat, it created a calm vacuum that heightened my sense of suspension; I could have knelt in front of him for days without feeling the erosion of time. After months of practice with the blindfold, I could endure more nothingness than I had ever thought possible. When I was seven years old, I wept when I thought of the dilation procedure--what would I do in those minutes of darkness? It was an unfathomable well of time. Now I could sink through gallons of time without thinking, without moving, without feeling hunger or thirst. It was a dark, profound "dolce far niente." "I said stop," my lover whispered. He grabbed the blindfold and pulled my head away, then lifted me by the shoulders and led me to his bed. I would lie down, and then I would have to wait. He might leave the room. He might leave his apartment. Once he left me at midnight--I knew it was midnight because I heard a security truck making its nightly round of the complex--and didn't return until I sensed dawn illuminating my skin. He undressed and knelt over me. He had brought in the cold of an early winter morning, and he smelled of cigarette smoke and cheap fabric dye. Suddenly I thought, he's been in a motel. He made love to another woman while I waited for him here. The thought made my body quake--panic and rage. But his flesh didn't feel like it had been kissed or caressed; it was cool and damp and self-contained, like the muscles of a newly opened oyster. He had been sitting somewhere, alone. I always cringed from images of what my lover did while I waited under the blindfold. I couldn't stand to think of him doing something common, like reading a magazine or eating a sandwich. But it frightened me to think that he might seek out emptiness the way I did; I would rather envision him with another woman. My vacuum could be observed, but not shared. On the nights my lover didn't leave me, he would stand over me, watching. This observation was far more excruciating than the lonely waiting. The first time he did it, I couldn't stop laughing. Then I began to cry and begged him to go away, or to untie the blindfold. He said nothing. I heard him sit down in his rocking chair and unfold a newspaper. I asked him what he was doing; he said he was trying to occupy himself while he waited. Waited for what? He told me to be quiet. He must have read the entire paper, considered the position of each paragraph in the clockworks of the world. Each time a page turned, I jumped at the rustle of newsprint as if it were the hiss of a snake. My flesh tightened and shivered in the air-conditioned room. I thought he had forgotten me, but when I tried to move my wrists under the nylon rope, he ordered me to lie still. Then I fell. It wasn't sleep. My breathing deepened. My eyes remained open under the blindfold. My bound hands tingled for a few minutes as the nerves protested, then they grew numb and I felt no sensation below my wrists. Oblivion unfolded slowly. My lover knelt over me, gently pulling my bound arms over my head, then parting my legs--I couldn't have pronounced his name. He entered me without difficulty; my body had been seeping fluids. His hands skimmed my body as if I were a pool of water; as he stroked my breasts, stomach, thighs, I felt he could have lifted handfuls of me and watched me slide through his fingers. The thrust of his groin became the sole measure of time-- a rapturous, infinite percussion. Breaking our rule of silence, he moaned my name, and through the tenebrous hush of the blindfold, it came to me like a blessing. He told me afterwards, as I lay dazed and sodden on his bed, that it was only twenty minutes. Forty-five, if you counted the time it took him to read the paper. I insisted that I had been lying on his bed for at least a day. No, he repeated, showing me his watch, forty-five minutes. "You should see your eyes," he said. "Your pupils are so wide, I can hardly see the iris. They're like black satin wells." Even in the dim light of his bedroom, it was a strain to read his watch. It was a strain to remember the syntax of time. I couldn't lift my hand to touch his face--I had no substance. While my eyes dilated, I would sit with my hands resting on the chilly steel arms of a waiting-room chair. The waiting room--room of sensual suspension. My mother would offer to read to me from a magazine, but I didn't want to hear her voice. Even the murmurs of the nurses and receptionists were difficult to bear. Minutes passed; the panting of time soon faded. As deeply as I drifted, I couldn't quell the fear that I would never feel the nurse's cool hand on my shoulder, telling me it was time to go back to the doctor's office. What if she never came? Anxious and calm at the same time, I experienced the waiting as a tremor in my growing limbs, in my painfully swelling breasts, between my soft thighs. My whole body would contract when I finally felt that hand on my shoulder, and as the nurse led me through the still halls to the doctor's office, I quivered with relief. When I wait, I'm disabled. I lie--blindfolded, bound, and weakened-- till someone speaks to me, touches me, enters my body. I wait for a command, or a promise. I wait for a breath.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/Book_Shelf_D/Deep Deprivation (MF, mild dom, bond).txt
51,146	Rivers ([email protected])	Diary (M/F sex, lingerie, Japan)	Yumi was the wife of a friend. Once, I joked that the sound of her name embodied the both of us - you know: you, me - but she looked back at me as if she didn't understand. Of course she couldn't, for I had fallen deeply and secretly in love with her. The things that transpired and which I am about to relate are all true, and although I know that some of what I did is indefensible, I hope that people who know me might someday see this and think less harshly of me. Yumi's husband Ken was transferred to our office from the Tokyo section. Close in age and with certain life experiences in common, we soon became friends. It was only natural that I would meet his wife eventually. Yumi was tall for a Japanese, and slender. She had the kind of beauty that grew on me the more I saw of her. It was in the way she moved; even the most simple gesture could make my heart ache. Before I got to know her, she seldom betrayed much emotion, but her elusive smile was enchanting and as radiant as the sun emerging from behind a cloud. When I met Ken and Yumi, I had recently broken up with my longtime girlfriend. Since I was often in a low mood, my new friends went out of their way to cheer me up. I spent many an evening with them at their house, and that is when my admiration for her blossomed into an obsession. Seeing her, the clouds of my disaffection would suddenly lift, and in those moments I would live in hope, vain though it may have been. Yumi cooked elaborate meals while Ken sat with his feet propped up on the coffee table and served me drinks. As the guest, my offers of assistance were politely but firmly declined. While Ken and I drank and laughed together, I secretly kept one eye on Yumi moving silently about the kitchen. I will never forget the gentle curve of her fingers as she held a knife or the way she bit her lip when she was concentrating on something. Over the next several months, Yumi's natural reserve diminished as she became more comfortable in my presence. Seeing her personality emerge so slowly was like patiently watching a flower open its blossom, revealing a secret wonder within. Her shy demeanor concealed a forceful personality, a penetrating wit that could run circles around her husband and me when she unleashed it. I felt pleased to have penetrated one of her layers, however superficial; the thought that the process could go on to unfathomable depths made me surrender myself more completely to the secret passion I had developed for this beautiful, untouchable woman. One night I stayed with them quite late. I'm not sure what the occasion was, but we were all in a jolly mood; much sake had been consumed. Excusing myself, I made my way down the hall towards the bathroom. Due to my drunkenness, I must have missed the door, for I found myself stepping into the master bedroom, illuminated only by what light spilled in from the hallway. So this is the bed where Ken and Yumi, I thought... I squeezed my eyes shut; the image was at once tantalizing and painful. I could hear the musical sound of her laugh drifting down the hall. Knowing I should leave, I moved to the dresser instead, where I noticed one drawer slightly ajar. Hardly aware of what I was doing, I reached in and pulled out the first thing my fingers came into contact with, a pair of Yumi's panties. Almost blind with nervous excitement, I slipped them into my pocket and hurried from the room. In the bathroom, I examined them, turning them around between my trembling fingers. How delicate and feminine her body must look when she had them on. It was some minutes before I could compose myself enough to return to my hosts, and for the rest of the evening the offending garment burned a guilty hole in my pocket. The next day, sober, realizing what I had done, I felt too ashamed to even look at them. For days the panties lay at the back of my dresser drawer, gone but not forgotten. Their presence ate away at me until the day Yumi called with an invitation to dinner, and I pulled them out at last. I had only the intention of slipping them back where they came from, but with Yumi's voice fresh in my ear and the soft fabric between my fingers, I was overcome. I sat on my bed for quite a while, letting my fingers play over them, imagining the parts of her body they covered. That evening, knowing I had something intimate of hers in my pocket, I regarded Yumi even more carefully in my secret way, and the private thrill she provided me was greater than ever before. When the chance came, I returned to the bedroom. My motive was only to replace what I had taken and be done with the forbidden pleasure; but pushing the stolen panties to the back of the drawer, my hand brushed against a fabric even more soft, even more alluring in its texture. My heart sank. I knew I was succumbing to a compulsion. Powerless to stop myself, I drew out another pair of panties and stuffed them into my pocket in place of the ones I had just returned. Once again upon arriving home, my initial reaction was shame; I hid them in the back of my drawer. But more quickly than before, I found myself drawing them out, holding them in my hands while I thought of her. The next time I went to see them, I knew I would once again exchange for another pair. When the moment arrived, I drew out three and chose the prettiest: silky yellow things with a white lace fringe. It was some time after my thievery had become routine that I descended to the next level of transgression. It began with a torrid, erotic dream. I awoke to find myself drenched in sweat, with a throbbing erection. Trying to hold the fleeting dream images in my mind, I began to relieve myself of my urgent, painful desire. It was then that I brushed against something soft and silky, cool to the touch of my fiery hand. Yumi's panties had been under my pillow; somehow during the night they had become dislodged. The cool silk felt soothing. I wrapped the sheer fabric around myself, imagining it to be Yumi's lips enveloping me. Draped over my thighs, I let the slippery fabric be the satiny cascade of her hair. I fantasized about our bodies combined in all manner of sexual couplings until I emptied myself into the bunched-up panties with great, throbbing liquid bursts. The next morning, I discovered the panties encrusted with come, and I was mortified. I quickly washed them in warm soapy water to remove any stains I might have left. After that, I recoiled, stuffing them in the back of my drawer again, not willing to acknowledge that I had descended more deeply into the realm of my obsession. My resistance didn't last long. By the time Ken and Yumi entertained me again, I was dying to try it once more. The next pair in my possession, I laid out neatly on the edge of the bed. Stroking myself while I imagined Yumi placidly waiting for my offering, I sent a thick jet of come over the crotch strip, imagining it to be the soft enfolded lips of her sex I was wetting with my sperm. This time I had the warm soapy water ready in advance. When I next saw Yumi, I found it difficult to look at her; but when I did, oh what profound and secret delight! I burned to know when she would slip on a pair of panties I had soaked with my come; the thrill of that would be almost unimaginable!By then, I knew Yumi owned roughly fifteen pairs of panties, and I arrived at the crazy notion that I must come into each and every one of them to be certain that when I saw her, she would be wearing one of 'mine'. I vowed to undertake the systematic project of stealing each of them in turn, even though I knew it might take me quite some time to reach my goal. For some reason, the idea of such a drawn-out plan thrilled me in a way I find impossible to explain. Right about then, I noticed a subtle change in Ken and Yumi. There was a stiffness to her, a formality that I had not noticed before. Ken began drinking more heavily and behaving more rudely in front of his wife. One day when we were alone, he confided that they were having problems. Yumi was unhappy in America; she wanted more autonomy, but, by his own admission, Ken was too overprotective to grant it. He characterized her demands as nagging. For a moment, I was secretly afraid I would not be able to see Yumi as often, but Ken reassured me. They considered my presence a welcome distraction. The frequency of my invitations increased. During that time, I made excellent headway on my project, but I also rediscovered the cause for my obsession. The thought of Yumi unhappy pained me greatly, and I came to realize how much I cared about her. I know this must sound ludicrous in the midst of such a sick, twisted revelation. It was just that my love for her, as impossible as it was, took a torturous, twisted route to its fulfillment, just as a river that is blocked sometimes finds a subterranean route to the sea. Knowing her husband didn't appreciate her as I did only made my situation more tragic. Ken's birthday was a few weeks away when Yumi called me to help her set up a surprise party. I needed to keep him away from the house for an hour or two while she got everything ready. Not wanting to let her off the phone too quickly, I asked if there was anything else I could do to help, but she assured me in a breezy, indifferent tone of voice that she would handle everything. When the day arrived, I persuaded Ken to let me buy him a drink after work. He thought Yumi was taking him out to dinner later that evening, confiding in me that things were still not great between them and that he wasn't really looking forward to it. He had three glasses of scotch in the hour we were together. The surprise worked, and, as far as I could see, Yumi's party was a success. Everyone seemed to be having a good time except the birthday boy himself. Ken continued to drink heavily as the evening wore on; he seemed to be in a morose, morbid humor, and the guests all tiptoed around him carefully. With such a crowd, it was easy for me to break away to make my switch. But slipping my hand into the familiar drawer, I was shocked to find it empty, save for one tightly bound object. I broke out in a cold sweat. Drawing out the little bundle, I discovered it to be a pair of black silk panties tied up with a red ribbon. I whirled around as if to find someone confronting me, but there was no one. The sounds of the party were like a dull roar in my ears as I slipped into the bathroom and undid the little parcel. The panties were of an exquisite silk fabric, rimmed all around with a delicate black lace pattern. Most notably, on the front, there was emblazoned two Japanese characters in a brush-stroke script. I had no idea what it meant. As I held the panties before me, puzzling over the meaning of it all, a small scrap of paper fluttered to the ground. On it were three words: "I Know," and two other characters that I recognized to mean 'Yumi'. My first instinct was to flee, jump out the window, run away; I certainly couldn't return to the party and face her. The room seemed to be spinning; I was taking great gasps of breath. Lowering myself to the edge of the tub, I tried to think, but no thoughts would come, only the clamoring of a thousand guilty voices, each one blaming the others for my misfortune. I am not sure how long I stayed. Gradually, a voice of reason rose above the rest and began to prevail. Why would she wrap them up in a little bow? Could it be...she isn't angry? I was just beginning to entertain the possibility when a knock sounded at the door, and an unfamiliar voice asked if anybody was using the bathroom. I had no choice but to return to the party. Yumi was busy catering to the guests. Did her eyes flicker past me as I stepped out of the hallway? I tried to stay as far from her as I could, watching her, warily looking for some sign. Graceful and demure as ever, she gave none. I pondered leaving quickly, going home and waiting to see if they ever called me again. "She knows, she knows!" it kept going through my head. But how? What had given me away? Was the gift-wrapped pair of panties an angry gesture, full of sarcasm? Was it a signal? And if so, of what? How could I possibly find out? I was standing, mulling over my situation when a commotion arose from across the room. I caught a fleeting glimpse of Ken rising, staggering, people moving, some backing away, others stepping forward to help. Then there was a crash. The coffee table was overturned, and Ken lay sprawled on the carpet. I joined the crowd that encircled the fallen birthday boy. Someone remarked that he was drunk, trashed to be certain. Hands lifted him to the sofa and laid him out. The party dissipated quickly after that. Yumi was the recipient of many helpful offers, but she declined them all, seeing the guests off with impeccable poise and grace even after her husband had made such an ass of himself. She asked a few small favors of me: pick up these cups, re-cork this wine - things of that nature - and I got the distinct impression she wanted me to stay. After the last guest had gone, I helped Yumi to restore order to her house while Ken snored away on the sofa, a look of placid oblivion on his face. She worked with infuriating, meticulous care while my heart raced with a mixture of curiosity and dread. I had no idea what to expect from her, and she gave no sign as to her feelings. Finally, when all was in order, she returned from the linen closet and draped a blanket over Ken. Motioning for me to come close, I found myself standing beside her, looking down at her sleeping husband. I had been avoiding her eye until that moment; now her gaze was fixed on me, serene and penetrating. My obsessive fantasy world had run smack up against flesh and blood. I quailed. She began by telling me how she had discovered something was amiss, speaking softly so as not to wake her husband. She owned fifteen pairs of panties; one for each day of the two weeks between laundry days, and an extra pair. When one was gone, it was easy to notice. But even before that, she had noticed my interest in her and was curious what I would do about it, if anything. She carefully avoided revealing her own feelings, however. She told me what Ken had already revealed - that their marriage was not working out. In fact, she was planning to leave for Japan soon, and possibly not return. Then she wanted to know what I had done with her under-things when I had them. Her question was simple, direct, leaving no room for obfuscation on my part. Still, I tried to avoid being specific. Speaking in a whisper, looking nervously down at the sleeping Ken, I began telling her a small part of the story. I think I said I had simply 'admired' the stolen panties, or something equally ridiculous. My words fell flat as I talked myself into a corner from which there was no escape. Yumi's eyes seemed to be driving me onward, towards my own destruction. I babbled on and on without saying anything until, exhausted, I ground to a halt, and we stood for a moment in silence. Then a magical thing happened. Seeing no other way out, I began to tell the truth, admitting for the first time to another living person the things I had been doing, what I had been feeling for all these months. The words flowed more easily now, like a cool clear stream running over a smooth bed, with no impediments to block its course. I felt exhilarated, lighter than air, realizing what a burden my obsession had been. Yumi listened intently, quietly, until I had told her everything. When finished, I was exhausted. I remember drawing several deep breaths, waiting for her reaction, like a skater looking up at the judges for the final standings. Then Yumi completely took me by surprise. She quietly asked me to undo my pants. I didn't know what to think; I was so startled. Was she going to take my underwear in exchange? I know that sounds ridiculous, but that is what went through my mind in that instant. I protested, gesturing to her sleeping husband lying below us, but Yumi was firm and insistent. I felt like a naked child before her, completely helpless. Drained by my confession, I lacked the strength to go against what she wanted me to do. When I stood before her with my trousers around my ankles, she had me pull my shorts down and then lift up my shirttails. I was highly aroused, but the fear that Ken might open his eyes at any instant, and maybe also from too much drink, I had only the faintest stirrings of an erection. Normally, even imagining myself in this position would have provoked in me the most heightened state of arousal. Now I felt embarrassed to have only such a modest offering to show her. Yumi took back the pair of black silk panties. She knelt before me. Looking up at me, she said: "When Ken and I were married, I vowed never to touch another man. I have no intention of breaking that promise now." And with that, she took the panties and wrapped them around my semi-erect penis. Opening her mouth, she engulfed my entire length and began sucking me through the panties, so that her flesh never actually touched mine. The warm, moist pressure of her lips clamped around me enhanced the familiar sensation of silk sliding along my skin.I swelled until she could no longer contain all of me, and she began rocking her head back and forth, sending me into ecstasy. I looked down, and our eyes met briefly before she closed hers again, and her brow got that little furrow in the middle, like when she was thinking very hard about something. She slowed down, and through the thin layer of silk, I could feel her tongue exploring the ridges and contours of my now achingly erect penis. Then she clamped her lips around me more tightly than before, and she began moving back and forth over me with real purpose. When I began to squirm about, stifling little cries of pleasure, Yumi withdrew her mouth and rose to stand beside me. She whispered in my ear that she wanted to see me do what I did with her panties when I was alone. Her voice sounded husky and out of breath. She put a hand lightly on my shoulder and motioned for me to kneel. She reached down and slid the panties off me and laid them out on the coffee table, just the way I had described laying them out on the edge of my bed. As I knelt down beside the low table, Ken stirred in his sleep momentarily. In panic, I began to rise, but Yumi's hand was on my shoulder, pressing me down. I remained motionless for a moment or two before she gave me a light tap on the back, indicating I should go ahead. I was looking directly at the sleeping Ken as I began to tentatively stroke myself over the panties Yumi had spread out for me. Even in my nervous state, I found myself very near the point of orgasm already. I looked up at Yumi; she was standing over me, looking down with her arms folded. I could see her chest rise and fall as she took several deep breaths. In another few moments, there was no holding back any longer. My hand was moving like a blur over the shaft of my penis. I could feel Yumi's eyes burning on me as I rose slightly from one knee so that I could aim the thick shots of my come downward, directly at the characters emblazoned on the crotch of the panties laid out before me. She put a hand out to steady my trembling body as the orgasm that shook me seemed to go on forever. When I was done, Yumi cleaned me off with the bunched-up panties, which she quickly whisked from the coffee table. While I put on my pants, she went to the kitchen for a damp paper towel with which she cleaned off the coffee table. My aim hadn't been perfect. The things that happened afterwards were dreary: the breakup of Ken and Yumi's marriage; the way they became so consumed with their bad feelings for each other that they didn't have time for me anymore; Yumi's return to Japan. We never discussed what happened. After that day, it was as if we began to drift swiftly apart. Bringing up what had happened seemed like it wasn't worth the effort, considering there was no future in it. She became so preoccupied with her marriage falling apart, and I had become so depressed, knowing I was losing her, that the few times I saw her again were all shaded with melancholy. A month after Yumi returned to Japan, I received a small package. Much to my surprise, I discovered it contained the very same panties that had played such a role that night, or at least an identical pair. Along with them was the rather cryptic note that said when I figured out the meaning of the characters printed on them, I could come and talk to her about it. It took me a while to find a Japanese dictionary, then a while longer to figure out how to find one character among the thousands that all seemed to look alike. I was too afraid to ask someone to simply translate it for me, in case it was obscene or embarrassing in some way. What I finally discovered was they stood for love, the physical act of love... The flight to Narita is twelve hours from where I live. I'll need to wrap this up now since they want all electronic devices turned off; you know how it is. I hope the man next to me couldn't see too much of what I was writing, but it doesn't matter much anyway, I suppose. I'm more concerned about whether this trip is a fool's errand or not: to fly halfway around the world on such nebulous hopes...the diaphanous fabric of a dream.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/Book_Shelf_D/Diary (MF sex, lingerie, Japan).txt
51,155	Robert A Gogg	Dinner Out	You meet me at the door, smiling, and invite me in. The door barely closed, our hello kiss deepens into something more, an appetizer. As I savor the taste of you, your hands roam my back and your body melts against mine. I can't help it; I get hard at your merest touch, and the hunger I feel in you tonight makes me erect in seconds. When you feel it pressing against you, you moan deep in your throat and pull me hard against you, starting to make fucking motions with your hips. Your breath is hot against my face. I pull away from you, and you smile, reaching for my belt and beginning to drop to your knees. I stop you, pulling you to your feet, seeing the question in your face. "I have a surprise tonight," the first words between us, as I turn you and press you forward over the table. A small "oh!" escapes you, and then a whispered "yes!" as I raise your skirt up over your hips. The feelings of being in this position, on this table, rise from your memory. You're surprised at how quickly you're turned on; already, as I lower your panties, your lips swell and open in invitation. You moan as my finger brushes your cunt, lightly, testing. An electric current races along your nerves, making your nipples and your clit tingle. Your cunt is wet, as if salivating for the taste of me. But the next thing you feel is not the hard, hot, head of my cock. Whatever it is, it's smooth and cool and it goes in easily. It slides inside and your lips close over it, holding it in place. It isn't large, but if you squeeze you can feel it pressing against your pelvic bone, and you jump slightly when you feel it touch your cervix. Then you realize that I've already pulled up your panties and lowered your skirt. You let me turn you to face me, still disoriented and confused. I open your blouse and gently remove your bra, giving each nipple a brief hello kiss before buttoning you up again. "Let's go to dinner," I say. You can feel your breasts swaying beneath your blouse as we walk, a gentle friction of smooth fabric against your skin. You know that your nipples are erect and plainly visible to anyone who cares to look. They can't see my 'surprise', but you can feel it moving inside you as we walk to the car and drive to the restaurant. You don't ask what it is; if had I intended to tell you, I would have already. We chat about events, politics, the weather, and how much we've missed each other. By the time we arrive, you've almost forgotten about it. There's a waiting list at the restaurant so we find a table in the bar to wait. The drink has an immediate effect on you, giving you a pleasant buzzing feeling. That brings back some of your arousal, and your hands wander to my thighs and my chest. The bar is dim; you're not sure they other patrons can see your nipples poking through your blouse, but you know they can see your hands. You pull yourself back, but your hands have a mind of their own, straying time and again. You wonder if they can see the heat between your legs. We continue to talk, about more intimate things, until our table is called. As we rise, I put my hand in my pocket. When the hostess turns to greet us, you begin to feel another soft buzzing sensation -- from your cunt. You pause, surprised, feeling a tingle begin in your clit and a hot flush rise up your neck and into your face. You realize that you've held your breath and when you release it, it comes out as "ah!" You open your eyes to see the hostess looking closely at you. You know that she can see your hard nipples, the flush in your face. She knows that you're aroused. Her eyes flick to my crotch, and you realize that she can see my erection making a bulge in my trousers. But she pauses barely a heartbeat, then says "Will you come with me?" You smile as you restrain yourself from replying "Yes, please!" Each glance from a stranger as we walk through the crowded dining room is like another caress. Hundreds of eyes rake you, your hard nipples, your hot face, and by the time we reach our table your heart is pounding and your head feels even lighter. We slide into a booth, and you barely hear the hostess say, "Enjoy," before she leaves. The smile on her face, however, sticks to your memory. You can barely read the words on the menu, much less make sense of the dishes offered. You can force your concentration on a line of text, but it's only a few seconds before your attention is drawn to the feel of your blouse rasping across your nipples or the throb of your pulse in your clit. Every time you think you've willed your heart to slow down, the softly buzzing thing inside you sends another wave of pleasure throughout your body. The lightest touch on your arm makes you jump, I've had to touch you to get your attention. "Shall I order for you?" I ask. I have that son-of-a-bitch smile that I get when I'm enjoying something far too much. "Mm hmm," is all you can say; it's almost as if you've forgotten how to speak. You're sitting in the back of our booth, facing the dining room. Just in front of us is a table with two men. They're sitting across from each other, diagonally, so that you can see the farthest one clearly. They're both engaged in conversation, but every once in a while the blonde one, the one facing you, will let his eyes rest on you for a moment before turning his attention back to his dark-haired companion. Your heart jumps the second time, and your nipples start to ache the third time he turns your way when you realize that he's watching you carefully. To the left is another table with a man and a woman. They're sitting on adjacent sides of the table, near each other, both facing us. They're almost oblivious to everyone around them, though, engaged in intent conversation, their faces close together, touching each other lightly, frequently. The waitress arrives to take our order. You wonder if the hostess has said anything to her, since she seems to give us both a good look before asking what we'll have for dinner. There is a fresh rush of warmth across your face as her gaze lingers momentarily on your breasts. I order a seafood salad for you, crab for myself, and a bottle of wine, and the waitress leaves. I resume our conversation, telling you about all that's happened since we were last together, about interviews and projects and a new bookstore I found. You try to pay attention, and you manage "yes" and "that's good" and "oh?" in the right places, but it's so hot in here that it's hard to concentrate. In a few minutes our wine arrives, and you sip generously of the cool liquid. It feels so good flowing across your tongue and down your throat that your first glass is gone before you know it. I refill your glass. It's been an hour since we started, an hour since your heart started pounding like a hammer. The vibrator sends relentless tingles radiating from your cunt to your nipples, but it isn't quite enough to bring your senses to the brink of climax. How long can you go on like this, suspended, neither rising or falling? Suddenly you feel my hand on your knee, lightly, teasingly. I lean over and whisper in your ear, "He seems to like what he sees." Your eyes dart to the blonde across the other table, your breath catches as you see his eyes on you, steady, appraising. He's still carrying on a conversation with the other man, but he rarely looks away from you. Is it your imagination, or has he shifted his position, as if to make room for an erection? Yes, you see him casually reach under the table and adjust himself; it looks like he's very hard. Almost without thought your hand slides up my thigh and onto my cock, hot, and very hard.Before you can do more than touch it, our dinners arrive. You jerk your hand back when the waitress walks up to our table, but you're sure she saw what you were doing. She lingers, making sure that our plates are arranged just so, refilling our wine glasses, memorizing every detail of your flushed face, misty eyes, erect nipples. She even casts an approving glance at the bulge in my lap. "Enjoy," she says, before she reluctantly departs. You pick at your food, trying to ignore the tingles radiating from your cunt, trying to ignore the hot flushes when you see your admirer watching you. The two men have finished their meal, and the dark-haired one is leaning back in his chair. They're talking about something, and then the blonde nods in our direction. The other turns his head casually, and then does a double-take. He says something like "wow!" to his companion. You look away, trying to be casual, and you see the couple at the other table. They're watching you, too, openly and unembarrassed. They're holding hands above the table, but their other hands are below. You can't quite see what they're doing. The woman smiles at you, and does something under the table. Her companion's eyes close and you can almost hear him moan all the way across the room. On its own, your hand moves back into my lap, and your fingers wrap themselves around my cock. The woman smiles, then turns to press her lips against her date's ear. Did you see her tongue dive into his ear for a moment? It's hard to tell from here. You forget about dinner altogether as I casually reach over and caress your breast. As I squeeze and pull your nipples through your blouse, the dark-haired man turns his chair so that he can watch us comfortably. You can see his erection now, too, and he tries to be subtle as he reaches to adjust it. The woman at the other table is watching you now, too. The hand above the table is stroking her man's arm now, caressing it slowly, and you get the idea that she's pretending it's your breast or my thigh she's stroking. Her other hand is still below the table. Whatever she's doing, she has her companion's full attention because his eyes are closed and his face is a little bit red. My fingers on your breasts, the heat of my cock in your hand, the horny stares of your audience, and the buzzing sensation from your cunt are beginning to make you more excited than before. Every tug on your nipple brings you a little closer. You don't want to come here in the restaurant, in front of these people, but you don't know if you can stop it now. Dimly you realize that our waitress is back, standing in front of our table. The guys behind her are craning their necks trying to see around her. You realize that your hand is still in my lap, stroking my cock as she watches. She stares first at your hand and the outline of my cock, then at your breasts and the nipples that I'm pinching between my fingers. Finally, she stammers, "Would you like to have some dessert?" "Just a moment," I reply. "I think that Cindy would like to show you something." To you: "What was it you wanted her to see, dear?" With that, I reach in my pocket again, and the device inside you suddenly jumps, buzzing so hard that you know the waitress can hear it. You know she's watching you, but you can't stop your back from arching, can't stop yourself from gasping air, "Ahhh!" The vibrator is relentless, and the more you move the more the vibrations seem to spread, which in turn makes you squirm. In a matter of seconds, you're grinding your hips against the seat, grunting as you try to rub your cunt against anything, anything at all to bring yourself over the edge. They're all watching you, but you can't stop yourself. Finally, you find your breast with your own hand, grabbing and pinching the stiff nipple, and suddenly an electric current connects your nipple with your clit and the spark explodes inside you. Your body stiffens, your cunt spasms around the vibrator, and you let out a long moan before you manage to bite your lips together. At the unmistakable sound of a woman coming, every head in the room turns to look at you. You have no idea how long it goes on, but when your body finally stops twitching and you open your eyes the waitress is still standing in front of our table. Her hand is lightly stroking her own breast through her uniform, and when your eyes meet she whispers "Oh, God!" Behind her, both of the men at the other table have stood up and moved to see past the waitress; you can see huge bulges in both of their trousers. The woman and her date are not at their table; you catch a glimpse of them hurrying together in the direction of the restrooms. "No, I think we'll skip dessert tonight," I say. The waitress glances at me, then drops her hand quickly to her side. "We'll have the check now, please," as I hand her a credit card. She nods, and hurries away. I reach into my pocket again and the buzzing in your cunt drops back to its teasing level. By the time she returns your breathing has slowed and you think you might be able to walk. As I sign the check I notice that she has written something on my copy. "Kim, 555-2345" I smile as I put it into my pocket.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/Book_Shelf_D/Dinner Out (MF, voy).txt
51,228	Anonymous Master	Angel Gets A Visit	You've been waiting for your MASTER for some time. You were brought to his chambers by several servants more than an hour ago. Naked, you are secured to the posts of his large bed and left with little to do but stare at the image of your bound, spread body in the mirrors which form the canopy of that resting place which you have so long desired to visit. Your MASTER has "taken" you in other places before, but never in this very special place. Your mirror image looks back at you. You can see your own excitement created by your fear and anticipation of what awaits when the MASTER arrives. You have been thoroughly prepared by his servants. Every inch of your body scrubbed, trimmed, shaved -- whatever was called for by your MASTER. Clean inside and out, you are prepared for his whims. You are his and his alone. You have given him your will. But, now, he has kept you waiting. Frustration builds along with excitement. Your body betrays this -- nipples hard and straining upward toward the mirrors; the flower of your sex opening, revealing the dew-covered inner petals. Your MASTER knows that by making you wait, by teasing you in this way, he is amplifying your eventual pleasure. You hear the door open, but cannot move your head, for it has been rendered immovable by the thin chains which bind your collar to the headboard. Footsteps approach. Is it HIM? What will HE do? Suddenly, a blindfold appears before your eyes. Your sight is taken away. Who is in the room? You hope it is your MASTER, but cannot be sure. Your body begins to tremble. Then, you jerk with surprise as you feel a pair of hands begin to gently caress you, carefully avoiding your most erogenous zones. The hands, gentle yet firm in touch, stroke your arms, legs, torso, even your hands and feet. You strain at the bonds, attempting to gain more contact with your invisible lover. You hear a low chuckle near your head. IT'S HIM! You recognize that sound immediately. Your entire body reacts just to the sound of his voice. The thought that he has had you brought to his room for his pleasure nearly causes you to climax. And the touches continue, moving closer and closer to sexual touches. HE begins to slowly and softly stroke the sides of your beautiful breasts, careful to not make contact with the swollen centers, he works his loving fingers around and around the mounds perched atop your now heaving chest. Then, the contact is withdrawn. You groan in frustration and need, and again HE surprises you. His mouth suddenly captures one of your nipples, causing you to gasp with pleasure. Switching from one to the other, the MASTER applies his tongue and lips to the swollen buds nearly driving you crazy with lust. The feeling is incredible, yet you know that it will not suffice to bring you to your peak. You long for him to take you, yet you know better than to speak without permission. His mouth moves away and you groan again in your loss. You hear the sound of clothing rustling. The bed moves as your MASTER moves upon it. You feel his powerful legs straddle your chest and open your mouth in anticipation for what will certainly happen next. HE does not disappoint you, nor you him, as he guides his large, hard cock between your longing lips, urging you to please him with your mouth -- never saying a word. Jumping at the chance to please HIM, you work hard with your tongue and lips wetting and caressing the soft, spongy glans which forms the head of your MASTER's hardened spear. But he wants more, and he presses forward between lips, spread wide by his girth, until you feel the familiar sensation of his cockhead pushing beyond the back of your mouth. Well trained, you do not gag, but work the muscles of your throat in a way which you know brings the MASTER pleasure. The angle is not right for him to get all the way into your throat, but he thrusts in and out several times anyway -- his shaft becoming coated with a thick layer of your saliva. You wallow in the helpless desire which consumes you. You cannot move or do anything except continue to work on that which your MASTER has presented you. Then, his member is removed from your mouth and you feel him leave the bed. He moves to the foot of the bed and releases your feet from their bondage. This is but a momentary release, however, as he pushes your legs up and back, re-attaching your ankle restraints to the posts at the headboard. Your body is now nearly bent double, your legs wide spread, your most secret places wide open for HIS inspection -- or whatever else he may have in mind for you this night. His hands return to caress your legs, your thighs, your ass. His thumbs take hold of the outer petals of your sex and spread them -- revealing the inner pulsing pinkness of your desire. Your sap is running freely, creating a shining trail of wetness downward over your brown, crinkled anus and slowly dripping onto the bed. You hear the low-pitched laughter once again. HE is pleased that you desire HIM. You have learned your lessons well. No punishments this night he has told you. You nearly scream as you feel his mouth make contact with your spread sex, his lips and tongue devouring your copious flow. He sucks the outer lips into his mouth one at a time, massaging them in a way which makes you shudder with delight. His tongue traces the mouth of your sex lightly, finally coming to rest at the top of your sex, on the flesh which covers the shaft of your now fully aroused clitoris. He is teasing you, not letting you reach your orgasm this way. You are nearly crying in frustration as he licks and licks, yet never brings you over. You know he must be smiling as he works your cunt like a maestro on a vintage musical instrument. You feel his enormous cock again, this time pushing at the entrance to your needy cunt. He feeds it slowly, inch by inch, until you feel his swollen testicles brush against your ass, his pubic bone pressing into your clit. He holds there, grinding in little circles which causes a gasp of pleasure to escape your throat. No one has penetrated you so deeply before. Now, HE begins to fuck you. Slowly withdrawing until only the tip is still inside, then just as slowly pushing all the way back in. Your inner muscles grip and squeeze, both from the pleasure of the act and because you want to bring HIM the most pleasure you can. Your body is trembling with sexual excitement. It seems warm in the room and a thin patina of sweat begins to form across your skin. The pace increases, as well as the force, causing you to grunt at the end of each hard stroke. You hear your MASTER's breathing increase, and his hands grasp your hips as he pulls you to him on each down stroke. He is slamming into you now and your orgasm has begun. Fireworks explode in your brain. The removal of your sense of sight has made the rest of your nervous system that much more sensitive. You feel each portion of your MASTER's hard cock as it drives into the depths of your body. You are climaxing continuously as his assault becomes more furious. Neither of you has spoken since this began, the only sounds coming from the act itself -- harsh breathing gasps, moans, and groans. Still slamming his entire length in and out of your grasping, clasping sheath, your MASTER adds one more layer of excitement to your already overloaded brain. He begins to strum your clit with his fingers -- very lightly, but still enough to take you to another, higher plane.His other hand busies itself with your breasts, stroking, kneading the flesh, pinching your nipples lightly, adding to your pleasure. Spiraling higher and higher, you eventually reach a place where you can stand no more (you think) and your consciousness winks out. When you re-emerge back into the world, you discover that your MASTER has withdrawn from you, but has left you in the same, folded, position, still blindfolded, still feeling aftershocks of many minutes of continuous orgasms. Your crotch is a swamp -- thoroughly coated with your copious expulsions which you are sure will make a huge wet spot on the MASTER's bed. He is back, and you feel his fingers working at your anus. He is lubricating it, preparing this passage to receive himself in the same way that your pussy received him moments ago. You dimly recall that he has not achieved his release yet. He has not taken you this way previously, though he has commanded you to prepare yourself there, using the "toys" he has provided for this purpose. And you have been faithful, though a bit apprehensive, and have played with yourself anally on many occasions. But, none of the toys which you have used approaches the length and thickness of the MASTER's weapon. His fingers stroke, probe, lubricate your sensitive sphincter, spreading warmth and pleasure over your body once again. One finger, then two, and finally three of the MASTER's digits explore the musky depths of this most secret passage, and are withdrawn. Again, you feel his weight press upon the bed as he maneuvers himself between the spread cheeks of your ass. You fight the urge to tense yourself as you feel the thick head press against the outer ring of muscle which forms the anal opening. The preparation has been thorough, however, and he does not force the issue either, choosing instead to apply continuous yet gentle pressure. Suddenly, your outer defenses give way and the head of his massive monster slides past. You feel a moment of pain, but no more. He stops, the head just inside, and gives you a moment to adjust before he begins to slide his entire length into the very heart of your body. Again, you feel his crinkly pubic hair press into you as he slides all the way home. Again, he begins the slow pattern of thrust and withdrawal. His hands caress your body, lingering at your breasts, one of his thumbs strokes your clit in time to the stroking of his cock in your ass. He reaches up and removes your blindfold at last and leans over to cover your mouth with his. You long to have your arms free so that you can hold him to you, but this is not his will. The kiss ends and the real fucking now begins. You see his look of concentration now as he picks up the pace. You look up and are incredibly aroused by the vision reflected in the mirrored covering of the bed. His long, hard, cock shining with a thick coating of lubricant moving back and forth through the portal of your ass is clearly reflected. Your heaving, shuddering body is receiving maximum stimulation from his cock, hands, and mouth as his movements become almost frenzied in his search for release. You see your wide spread sex, red as raw beef winking open and closed with the rhythm of your orgasmic spasms, a steady drool of your sweet sap adding to the slippery lube which makes this assfuck possible. He is pounding the entire length of his member on each stroke and you have lost count of the number of times you have achieved your peak since he began stroking your ass. At last, a mighty thrust, and he holds his cock deep inside you. You feel it throb, then begin to jerk as his thick, salty, cum boils up from his balls and begins to spray your bowels. You feel its heat and force -- his power pulsing into you and you climax one more time. Finally, he withdraws. You see in the mirror that your rear opening does not close right away, and a white stream of his produce begins to flow out and down, a small pool forming on the bed beneath your ass. You are released from your bonds. Servants appear from nowhere and sponge you clean of sweat and cum. Then, the MASTER returns and takes you into his arms. You are both asleep almost immediately. You dream contented dreams as you are completely satisfied to be his slave.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/Book_Shelf_A/Angel Gets A Visit (Mdom-slave).txt
51,431	Capstan Michael	Anatomy Lessons	You knock on my office door at 9:00 am as we had agreed. I open the door and escort you into my office. You are dressed in a shirt and pants. I tell you that the class will begin in 5 minutes and hand you a terrycloth robe. I tell you to remove your clothes and put on the robe. I watch as you remove your shirt to reveal your lovely breasts, your nipples jutting out in anticipation of what lies ahead. You remove your pants, and as I had instructed, you are not wearing any underwear. I order you to turn around so I can admire your lovely ass and bush. A bulge grows in my pants, which you notice, giving me a little smile. I tell you that we must hurry. You put on your robe and follow me through the halls of the building, students milling all around. Your robe is small, and the terrycloth clings to your curves. As we hurry through the halls, your breasts bounce noticeably, catching the attention of the male students in the hall. I notice them admiring your lovely jiggle! So do you, and it excites you. Also, the robe is very tight on your ass, even sucking up into your crack. It's obvious that you have nothing on underneath this robe, and the students have noticeable bulges in their pants. We finally arrive at the classroom. I enter first and lead you over to a chair placed in the center front of the class. Also in the classroom is an examination table, similar to those in a doctor's office, the foot of the table facing the class. In the classroom are 16 students, 12 male and 4 female. Our students are recent college graduates, all in their early to mid-20s. You are the center of attention as I lead you in. As you sit down, the robe creeps up about to mid-thigh, with the opening in the middle almost, but not quite, exposing your pussy. I begin our lecture. "Students, today we will be studying the external genitalia and associated structures of the female, and examine how they function. We have a model, Joanna here, to aid us in our studies. Joanna, stand up and remove your robe!" You are a little startled at the abruptness of my command, but you rise from the chair, untie the belt, and remove the robe, letting it drop to the floor. Sixteen pairs of eyes are gazing on your nakedness, looking at your firm tits and your lovely rounded ass. Pointing to your breasts, I begin the demonstration. "Class, this is a human breast which contains the mammary gland. The mammary gland is an appendage of the skin, related to the sweat gland. It functions to produce milk to nourish the infant. Milk secretion is stimulated by suckling on the breast, so the breast is richly supplied with sensory nerves." I now take your right breast in my hand and begin stroking it. "Notice as I stroke the breast, the nipple becomes hard. Note also that goose flesh appears on Joanna's body. Since the breast is so richly supplied with sensory nerves, it is an erogenous zone for the woman. Women can be aroused to higher states of passion by careful manipulation of the breast." I start fondling your breasts now, pinching the nipples between my thumb and forefinger, and rolling the nipples between these two fingers. "Notice as I fondle Joanna's breasts, that the nipples get harder. Look, as I pinch her nipples, she begins to moan softly, indicating the beginning of sexual arousal. Now all of you come down here and take a turn, fondling and squeezing Joanna's breasts!" There is a mad scramble down to the front of the room. You have a different pair of hands on each of your breasts, squeezing them, and pinching the nipples. I continue, "Notice how nice and firm her tits are. Joanna does not suffer from Cooper's droop! You ladies also feel her tits, see how she reacts, compare her reaction to those you have experienced." Every few minutes, one pair of hands is replaced by another, until all 16 have thoroughly mauled your tits. You are sitting in the chair, naked in front of 16 students with me at your side. Your breasts have been thoroughly fondled, squeezed, and pinched by all 16 students. I continue my lecture/demonstration: "Joanna, get up here on this examination table so the students can get a better look at you!" I order. You comply, blushing. "Joanna, spread your legs wide, so the students can see your crotch." I instruct. "Class, we will now examine the female genitalia. You see that Joanna's perineum is covered with a very nice bush of pubic hair. It extends from her mons pubis, down over her labia majora. Now the mons pubis is a small mound of adipose tissue overlying the pubic symphysis. Notice as I stroke it, how soft and pliable it is." Said while gently stroking your mound. My hands continue down to your outer lips, which I stroke, as I explain, "Here are Joanna's labia majora. They are folds of skin, covered with pubic hair. They are richly supplied with nerves, that is why Joanna reacts as she does to my touching them. The labia majora are the homologue of the scrotum in the male. Notice as I open her outer lips, the moist, pink tissue of her labia minora and vulva. You can see that this tissue is covered with a mucous membrane, because the surface is moist. Stimulation of the area leads to secretion by many small glands, making the vulvar surface very wet, as Joanna is now." I part your inner lips to expose your clitoris, vagina and urethra. "Class, notice this elevation at the anterior end of Joanna's pussy. This is the clitoris, her "love button." It is the homologue of the penis in the male and it does contain erectile tissue. Upon stimulation, the clitoris becomes erect. There also is erectile tissue in each labia minora, which becomes engorged with blood when the woman is sexually excited. The clitoris is richly supplied with sensory nerve endings, as is the penis in the male. Direct and indirect stimulation of the clitoris is what brings about a woman's orgasm. Notice how Joanna reacts as I gently touch her clit. Now watch as I gently jack off her little clit by placing a finger on either side of it and slowly moving them up and down her little shaft." I continue jacking your clit for a few minutes and let the students watch your reaction. The male students have obvious erections and are rubbing the front of their pants. The female students also are rubbing themselves, and on those women wearing light-colored pants, you can see the wet spot on their crotch. "Moving on, just posterior to the clit is the urethral orifice, from which Joanna empties her bladder. A centimeter or two posterior to that is the opening of Joanna's vagina. See how moist and inviting it is. The name vagina comes from the Latin for sheath, it's the sheath for the cock! Joanna is very wet, making it easy for something to slide in and out of her cunt. Notice as I stick this finger inside her, how easily it slides in and out. The vagina also can stretch a great deal. Here I go, inserting two fingers,....now 3 fingers,.....now 4 fingers, frantically pumping in and out. As you can see, Joanna finds this rather stimulating, notice the look on her face and her moans. Finally, just to show you how much the vagina can stretch, I will put my whole hand in her cunt, fist fucking in and out. I can assure you that Joanna has a very tight vagina, whether she has one finger up inside or a whole hand!" "Now students, I want you to come down and explore for yourselves Joanna's lovely pussy."Come close, feel her mons, touch the soft skin on the inside of her thigh, play with her labia, her clit and her vagina. Stick a finger or two up inside her cunt, and feel how tight, warm and moist it is!" The words are barely out of my mouth when the class surges forward to feel your cunt. Again, 16 pairs of hands are roaming over your body. Many are trying to feel your cunt and finger-fuck you. Others are waiting their turn and are playing with your tits. You are moaning and humping back at their invasion of your cunt! "Okay, class, back to your seats!" I order. "There are many ways in which we may be stimulated to orgasm. Our first orgasms are usually solo ones achieved by self-stimulation or masturbation. So that you might treat your patients effectively in the future, you should understand the process of masturbation. Joanna will now demonstrate how a woman masturbates for you!" You look at me shocked. You cannot believe that I am asking you to do that in front of this group of horny people. "Joanna, begin masturbating for the class!" I command. In Joanna's own words, this is how she would masturbate for the class. "While I do have an assortment of toys, I brought down a large dildo and two clothespins. It is about 10" long and 1 1/2" in diameter. It is rather realistic looking. Gently rubbing my breasts. Nipples in the palms of my hands...fingers caressing the swell of my breasts. Nipples hardening...tracing circles on my palms with nipples, using my nail on my ring finger to trace gentle circles around my nipples. Getting that tight feeling deep inside already! Leaning back in the chair...eyes closed...slowly dragging my nails across my hardening nipples...I am laying on the table in the amphitheater while you lecture, referring to me in derogatory terms. Continuing to tease my right nipple, putting the middle finger of my left hand in my mouth...sucking and licking it like a small cock. Working the finger in and out of my mouth. My right hand is now rubbing my mons, pressing with the ball of my hand and then pushing my hand down until the heel of my hand is there, then back...and again...and again. Now stroking my thighs with flat hands...top...outside...inside...working my hands higher on my thighs...using my fingertips to stroke the skin of my upper thighs...especially the soft, warm skin that swells on my inner thighs...continuing to tease myself with my right hand...stroking my breasts...rubbing my breasts, squeezing them a little...hard but not rough...now stroking them with my fingertips. Massaging my right breast with my left hand while rubbing my mons with my right hand...my middle and ring fingers are stroking the wet skin between my legs as I press down hard on my mons with the ball of my hand. Concentrating on my right nipple, rolling it with my fingertips. Wetting my fingers with saliva and then wetting my nipple...the wetness makes it feel like someone has been sucking it. Squeezing my nipple between my thumb and the side of my forefinger. Squeezing and using my forefinger to roll it, making it burn...now the left one as I continue stroking myself between my legs...my pussy is getting wetter...spreading my knees as far as I can. Stroking the outside of my pussy with my right hand...my left one is back to working on my nipples. Just doing that for a while, resisting the temptation to shove a finger in my cunt...tracing the edge of my lips with my nail on my middle finger...sliding my nail between my inner lips back to front, then dragging my nail over my clit...pressing my nail hard against my clit, slicing back and forth. Now sliding my finger slowly between my lips...just the one finger, very slowly. My left hand is back at my mouth...two fingers are now in my mouth, sucking them and licking them while my right hand continues exploring my vulva...now swapping hands, bringing the taste of myself to my mouth, sucking it eagerly, licking at my finger to taste it all. Bringing both hands to my breasts...squeezing my nipples and pulling on them to get them as erect as possible...now putting a clothespin on my left nipple. Mmmmm, an exquisite feeling of pressure and pleasure...the right one. Toying with them, twisting the clothespins, pulling on them. Pulling on them with one hand...working my middle finger of my right hand into my cunt. Keeping it in...just moving it around and pressing my hand against my clit...knowing there really were 17 pairs of horny eyes on me. Pulling my finger out, putting it in my mouth again...my left index finger playing with my clit. My right hand is back, working two fingers in...everything is focused between my legs, both hands working, wishing they were some man's...wishing one of the students would come running down and just shove his cock in me, deep and hard, then just keep slamming it in until he finished!! Time for the dildo. Holding it with my right hand while my left one keeps taking care of my clit. The dildo needs to be lubricated. Running my tongue over the dildo. Now licking it from bottom to top like a tall ice cream cone. Licking it all the way around. Now popping just the head into my mouth, working my tongue over it, covering it in saliva. My left hand has strayed back, and now I have two fingers in my pussy, pumping them slowly in and out while I suck on the head of the dildo. My nipples are on fire...I have that tight yet churning feeling deep inside. Taking the dildo out of my mouth...it is nice and wet...spreading my legs wide...guiding the head in with my left hand, pushing the dildo in with my right...pumping it slowly...deeper each time...playing with the clothespins with my left hand...driving the dildo in deeper...now leaving it in...squeezing with my muscles to hold it...running my hands over my body everywhere I can reach...my skin is hot and smooth...pressing my thighs together...crossing them to make the dildo turn inside...pulling on my nipples...stretching them long...running my hand over my stomach and belly...thighs...need a man...spreading my legs wide, pulling the dildo out slowly with my right hand...working my clit with my left...stroking the dildo in and out in long strokes...rolling my clit between my thumb and forefinger...pumping faster and harder...getting a rush of heat throughout my body....jamming the dildo in deep, keeping playing with my clit, jacking it off as you say...now pulling the clothes pins off my nipples...my hips rocking in the air, trying to meet a man who isn't there...flashes of tingly feeling through my insides...rubbing my very tender and sensitive nipples...surges of tightness...getting there...pumping the dildo again, rotating my hips...my whole body moving.......yessssssssss I feel good, but I really need a man...gently rubbing my clit to keep the feeling...pushing the dildo back in...licking the juices from my fingers...rubbing my hand over my belly and stomach...running my fingers through the hair on my mons...down inside my thighs...it felt good, but I really need a man to hold me down and really fuck me." As Joanna recovers from the orgasm that has just exploded through her lovely body, I continue with the lesson. "You see, class, each of us is capable of stimulating ourselves to tremendous orgasms through masturbation. I myself continue to masturbate, as I am sure most of you do as well. For the remainder of this class, feel free to remove your clothes and to freely engage in experimentation with members of the class or with Joanna." The men quickly remove their clothes, while the women disrobed more slowly. There are 12 men in the class, each of them already hard and ready for action. The four women also look very excited by the events they have just witnessed. All four of them have hard nipples, and they are rubbing their mounds and pussies with one hand, while squeezing their tits with the other. I continue, "Joanna is capable of delivering intense pleasure to her sex partner. We will now demonstrate. Joanna, come here and kneel before me!" Joanna immediately hops off the table and kneels before me. "Joanna, remove my shirt, pants, and underwear!" You immediately begin to unbutton my shirt and take it off. Next, you undo my belt, unfasten my pants, pull the zipper down, and let my pants fall to the floor. Last, you slide my shorts over my hips, and they too fall down. I step out of my clothes on the floor and guide you back to the table. I lay you down on your back, profile to the students. Your lovely breasts are sticking straight up, the nipples pointing at the ceiling. I stand at your head and pull you by your armpits toward me, until your head hangs over the table. At my command, you open your mouth as I extend your neck, bending your head back. I slide my hard cock into your open mouth and down your throat. Holding onto your tits, I pump in and out of your hot mouth as you swallow my hard cock with every thrust. As I am fucking your mouth, I tell the class, "Notice how easily Joanna takes my full cock in her mouth. You see, the cunt is not the only hole that can be fucked. Joanna is particularly good at this because she swallows with each thrust down her throat, milking my cock as she does. It feels wonderful. Notice too that this position is very convenient for mouth-fucking, and also serves to put the fuckee in a subservient position." As I thrust in and out of your mouth, I am constantly squeezing your tits and pinching your nipples. I delight at how hard your nipples have become. You can feel my cock begin to grow even bigger as my orgasm approaches. I begin to thrust harder and faster, deeper into your throat. As my orgasm begins, I squeeze your tits with all my might as my semen squirts into your mouth and down your throat. You can't swallow all my cum, and the remainder oozes out of your mouth at the corners. The men in the class are now actively pumping their cocks, while the women are frantically playing with their cunts. I move the examination table so that your cunt is facing the class. "While I recover from that excellent mouth-fuck, I will demonstrate the ability of the vagina to expand, such that it can engulf any object inserted into it. Here is Joanna's cunt. Notice that it is nice and wet, the glands of her vestibule are secreting copiously. I can take one finger and easily insert it into her cunt. Watch as I fuck the finger in and out."Joanna is quite talented, being able to clamp down on my finger with her well-developed muscles of the pelvic floor. Now I will insert a second finger. With two fingers fucking in and out of her cunt, it is much tighter, but she accommodates the intrusion easily. Now we will try three fingers. My, this is MUCH tighter, but still her cunt expands to take all three fingers. Fucking them in and out is a little harder, but with all Joanna's lubrication, they slide back and forth fairly easily. Let's see if she can take the fourth finger. In it goes! Ummmm, this is a very tight squeeze, but Joanna's talented cunt takes the invasion in stride. Her generous secretions provide plenty of lubrication. Now, as a final test, I will add my thumb and the rest of my hand to the penetration. You see, even with a hand the size of mine, Joanna's cunt can expand to hold the whole hand and permit me to fist fuck her. In and out, it feels like she will suck me in up to my elbow! This really is a talented cunt. I hope all of you get a chance later to try it out! As you cum again from the fist fucking, I pull my hand from your cunt and rub your mound. I am hard again, so I climb up on the table and ram my cock deep into your pussy. "Class, as you can see, Joanna is very easy to enter, and fucking her Missionary style lets me dominate her, pinning her to the table here. In spite of the fist fucking I had just given her, her cunt is still extremely tight, obviously due to her control of her pelvic muscles. Let me show you one other thing." I roll you over on your back, pulling you up on your knees. Pressing my cock against your asshole, I grab your hips and thrust deep in your ass. "As you can see, the anus can be used for fucking as well as shitting. Joanna's asshole is very tight, and it feels wonderful fucking her there. It's even tighter than her cunt! All the lubrication from her cunt enables me to penetrate her asshole easily. Notice how Joanna fucks back at my every stroke, this is the sign of a truly gifted partner, one that enjoys being fucked, especially in public." I pull out of your ass, and address the class. "Class, we will now see how this slutty woman will service multiple partners. I will need four volunteers. Ok, you, you, you, and you. Four volunteers with hard cocks. Now the rest of you form groups of three, one woman and two men. After we start fucking Joanna, I want each of the women to experience double penetration, either mouth and cunt or ass and cunt, your choice. Now Andrew here is going to lay down on the table, his cock sticking up. Joanna, straddle Andy and lower your cunt onto his cock!" You move rapidly to straddle him and impale your pussy on his cock. Andy screams with pleasure as your cunt swallows his hard cock. Bending you forward, I have Mark kneel over Andy's head, his hard cock sticking out. You suck his cock into your mouth and begin giving him the blow-job of his life. I move behind and enter your asshole again. Andy and I begin to synchronize our fucking, and we can feel each other's cock rubbing in its own passage, separated by the thin walls of each organ. "Class, notice how Joanna is able to fuck three of us at once, one in the mouth, one in the cunt and me in her ass. Notice also how she enjoys it, fucking back at all of us!" The last two cocks come closer, one on either side of the table. "Joanna, take one in each hand and jack them off!" You comply immediately. "See class, with a little effort a woman can service 5 men at the same time. And, as you can see, Joanna really enjoys it, and enjoys your watching her get so thoroughly fucked. Now begin your practice, one woman and two men, double penetration!" With that, everyone begins fucking. All you can hear are the sounds of cocks plunging in and out of holes and the moans of pleasure coming from those fucking. The room is filled with the aroma of hot cunt and cock. It's maddening, driving all of us into a fuck frenzy, frantically ramming our cocks in and out of whatever hole they occupy. Soon the sound of orgasms fill the room as the men explode in the women, and the women are pushed over the top of their orgasmic threshold. All five of us erupt in and on you. The two being jacked off squirt their cum on your back. Mark fills your mouth to overflowing with his cum, and Andy and I fill your cunt and asshole respectively with our loads. As we all shoot in you, your body spasms with yet another orgasm. Joanna has just been thoroughly fucked by three men at the same time. Each of the female students has fucked two guys at once while this had been going on. I resume class: "Now I will have Joanna demonstrate her ability to clean up after a serious round of fucking like that which we have just taken part. Michelle, come over here and sit on Joanna's face. Joanna will now suck all the cum from Michelle's just-fucked cunt. Notice how Joanna licks all the cum from Michelle's outer lips before lapping up the combined male and female juice that fills her pussy. Michelle seems to be enjoying Joanna's activity. See, she is humping her cunt against Joanna's mouth." Joanna continues to eat Michelle's pussy until all the male cum has been devoured and Michelle has had another orgasm. "Michelle, move down between Joanna's legs and start cleaning up her cunt. Laurie, come over here and sit your beautiful black cunt on Joanna's face. Come here close and watch Joanna lick Laurie clean. Notice that Laurie's cunt lips, especially the inner ones, are all swollen from the good fucking she just received. It seems that Joanna just cannot get enough of this second-hand cum, look at the way she is sucking and licking that pretty pussy. Also, notice that Joanna is humping against Michelle's hungry mouth as Michelle's tongue laps Mark's cum out of Joanna's cunt. It seems that Joanna is having another orgasm, just as Laurie cums too! Well Joanna, you are half way done, two more cunts need to be cleaned. Michelle and Laurie, start sucking on these guys' cocks, I want them hard again. Micky, sit on Joanna's face, it's your turn." Again Joanna cleans this cunt, lapping up all the cum and giving Micky another nice, violent orgasm. Lastly, I tell Angela to replace Micky and have Micky start getting the guys ready for the grand finale of this gross anatomy lesson. Yet again, Joanna licks the fuck-swollen pussy and sucks up all the cum, both Angela's and her partners'. The action of Joanna's tongue on Angela's cunt drives Angela to a climax, and Joanna seems to be approaching another climax as well, just from eating and tasting all that cum. "Class, I will now have Joanna demonstrate how one woman can satisfy many men at one time. There are thirteen hard cocks here, counting mine. Men, form a single line behind me. Each of us will take a turn fucking Joanna's cunt. Now watch me. There is no need to be gentle or tentative about fucking Joanna. She is well lubricated by the earlier fucking, not to mention her constant flowing cunt juice. Also, her earlier fucking and sucking have caused her pussy to dilate, making entry easy. Now when it is your turn, I want you to ram your cock into her cunt as hard and as deep as you can. Then I want you to fuck her as hard and as fast as you can, try to cum as quickly as possible, remember that there are others waiting." I mount the table between Joanna's legs and ram my cock deep inside her. I fuck as hard and as fast as I can, cumming after about 10 minutes of fucking. It took longer to cum than I had expected because of my earlier cum in her ass. The next guy mounts her and begins fucking her. Again it is fast and hard, and he cums after about 5 minutes. Joanna is moaning that she wants more cock, she wants to be fucked more. Then number three jumps on and starts fucking. Joanna humps back and cums just before number 3 shoots his load into her hungry cunt. Now number 4, then 5, followed by 6, and then 7. Seven cocks have exploded in her hot cunt, cum is flowing out of her cunt and down her ass. She has cum twice while being so used. Yet Joanna begs for more cock, more fucking. Number 8 mounts her and fucks her overflowing cunt. I tell the girls to suck on Joanna's tits, which they eagerly do. Number 8 cums, then 9 mounts her, fucking in and out while four women try to devour Joanna's tits. After 9 cums, then 10 replaces him and fucks her fast and hard. He shoots his load and pulls out. Joanna's cunt is swollen, red, and oozing white cum, yet she calls for more cock. Number 11 hops on and rams his cock deep into her well-lubricated pussy. He is followed by number 12 and finally, last #13 gets his turn, fucking her quickly and cumming almost immediately after what he has observed. Joanna has had two more orgasms. "Well, class, that is all for today. Get dressed and I will see you tomorrow. Joanna, come with me, don't bother to get dressed." I lead Joanna through the halls naked back to my office. She is walking a little bow-legged from the fucking she had just received, and cum is dripping out of her cunt and running down both inner thighs. All the men in the hall smile appreciatively at Joanna as she walks by, bulges showing in their pants. After we enter my office, I tell Joanna to get dressed and that I will see her tomorrow for class when we will demonstrate the functioning of the male reproductive system! Joanna smiles and tells me that she will see me tomorrow.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/Book_Shelf_A/Anatomy Lessons (MF, exh, school).txt
51,526	Wiley03	FUCKING	You see her at the outdoor market, picking through apples. You notice first her long legs, sheathed in white stockings, gorgeously revealed by a short plaid skirt stopping at mid-thigh. A blue sweater hides her upper body, and you look into her beautiful elfin Asian eyes as she turns. She returns your smile, and you approach, talking of this and that, noticing the smooth skin of her face and the ripe fullness of her lips. Talk of this and that leads to other things, and you find yourself walking her home with this young woman, walking up to her apartment. The seduction is mutual as she presses her lithe body against yours, her lips red and glistening, an open invitation which you eagerly accept. Her passion surprises you as you reach beneath her skirt and grip the full roundness of her buttocks in your hands, pleasure suffusing your body, the pleasure of her soft firmness as well as that of anticipation. You work yourself over to her couch, a dark hunter green leather set behind a tasteful dark wood table. There you pull her into your lap, your body hard and tense against hers, her hands running up your sides, sending shivers across your body as your kiss breaks, the sweet taste of her mouth and questing tongue lost for those few seconds it takes to pull your shirt free of your body. One of your hands pushes her skirt up to reveal her garters and the soft flesh of her thigh, hot and sexy to your touch as you brush the inside of her thigh. She mewls in pleasure as your lips find the pulsing artery of her neck, and her hand brushes your sensitive nipples, your own hand sliding by the hot flesh of her stomach, flat and firm and heaving as she gasps in passion, her hot breath finding your ear, making your toes curl in pleasure. Teeth clash as your lips meet again, your tongue dueling hers for entrance to her mouth, her body and yours shaking from passion as you slide your hand across her small breasts, no bra preventing you from letting the palm linger over her hard nipples. You pinch one, and she gasps and bites your lower lip, your blood salty and hot. She pulls back from you, grinning wickedly, her eyes shining in her face, her shoulder-length black hair swirled about her head, as she pulls her sweater free from her body. You don't wait, but push her down on the couch, your mouth drawing her nipple into your mouth as her hands run across your scalp. You nibble slightly and hear her gasp, her body arching against yours, your hand pushing her skirt up until you are cupping her sex, wet and warm through her panties, and she pushes it against your hand. She pulls your other hand up and starts sucking on your fingers, running her smooth lips and tongue up and down your hand. Right now you want this woman more than you ever wanted anything. Her hands are down near your zipper, twisting the button on your jeans free, pulling the zipper down as you raise your body slightly to allow her access. You can't take it anymore as her fingers brush your hardness through your underwear, and you jerk to your feet, whipping off her skirt in one smooth motion as you twist her to a half-sitting position, her feet on the soft carpeted floor. You look down at her as you strip out of the last of your clothes, your cock standing out from your body, seeing her smooth tinted skin, her knees sexily together covered with those white stockings, her garters and panties still covering her groin, her small breasts rising and falling on her chest, her lips parted slightly, her face flushed with passion as she stares at you through half-lidded eyes. You kneel before her, your hands parting her knees as you bring your face less than an inch from her pussy, the aroma strong and pungent and so sexy. You push your nose against her underwear just above her clit, and she gasps in pleasure, her hands gripping the sides of your head hard, demanding. Again you push in, feeling her shudder as your lips press against hers through the thin cotton as your fingers deftly unhook the garters from her stockings. You lick the inside of her thigh as you slowly tug off her panties, so wet they're dripping with her excitement, reattaching the stockings as you pull her panties down. As they slip from her feet, you stand before her and look down at this gorgeous woman knowing that, at this moment, she is yours. You draw her to you and lay her down on the carpet and mount her, sliding into her hot wet depths. You shudder in sensation as she begins to grind beneath you, her cunt so tight and so wet and so active.... Her knees lock behind your back as you slowly begin to fuck her, her feet resting on your buttocks, her hands all over you. She moans into your mouth as you press yourself into her again, grinding herself against your pelvis, fucking you like you've never been fucked. Her teeth find your ear as she begins to pull at the lobe, her nails digging into your back as she arches her lithe body against yours, her breath hot and fast. You know you're close as you feel your whole lower body begin to tingle. You slow, making it last, drawing it out until the sensations are almost painful. You come, grinding yourself deep within her clasping cunt, and you feel her teeth against the base of your neck as she tightens her thighs, pulling you into her as your cock fills her with your come. Her head snaps back and her body shudders and arches as she cries out in pleasure, her orgasm wracking her slender Asian body. Finished, you lie exhausted atop her, sated down to your toes. She too is still, the only sound your mingled breath. Minutes later you roll off her onto your back, your hand reaching over to caress her face. She nuzzles you and rolls over, pressing her soft body, slick with sweat, against your hard one. Her hands dance along your body as she smiles, turning her face even more beautiful in the aftermath of passion. Her hair falls to cover her face as she bends down and softly kisses your nipple. You don't react, just lie there as pleasure suffuses your breast. She works her mouth for some time at your breast, her hair brushing your chest, tickling you, driving you crazy. You feel yourself begin to harden again, slightly painful, but you feel yourself wanting her again. Her hand moves down to caress your testicles, gently pressing the soft flesh just behind them. Her mouth follows, and you feel the softness of her full lips slide along your semi-flaccid cock, stirring it to life. Her tongue tickles your scrotum as she warms your penis in her mouth before closing her lips along its base and drawing it up to hardness. You are your hips toward her, wanting to stay in her mouth as she kisses the tip of your manhood before licking the sides. Slowly, erotically, she works you with the mouth and her hands until you are throbbing painfully, your previous release only a hypersensitive edge to your current lust. Her tongue slides up her body until her mouth meets yours in a passionate kiss, and she straddles your body. She slips you into her, and as wet as she is with the mingled come of your two bodies, she is tight, tighter in this position than you would have believed. She leans there, her head down, her face hidden by her sweat-soaked hair, her knees beside your stomach, her pelvis resting heavily on yours, her hands pressing hard into your chest, her small breasts pulled by gravity from her slender rib cage. You watch, entranced, as she begins to use you, her Asian eyes closed tight, her lips parted slightly, her face a mask of pleasured concentration.Her hips begin to describe small circles, the muscles in her cunt squeezing you, massaging you, as you slip back and forth ever so slightly inside her. You become lost in her world, a world where only the sensations streaming through her body from your cock concerns her. Her hips rock, her thighs clench, her body shudders; she sways, her head whips back, then down, her breath comes evenly, then panting, sweat drips heavily onto you, her face goes from concentration to ecstasy and back as she fucks you. You are ready to explode, but she is not ready to let you, and keeps you there, building, building, but never too high too fast, without seeming to know you even exist. You want to grab her, to put her beneath you and fuck her hard until you fill her belly with your seed, but you can't, she holds you with her body as if in a spell. It becomes too much, too much as her body begins shaking like a leaf in a gale, her nails digging into your shoulders as her cunt seems to pull your soul through your penis as you come and come, your bellowing matching her long wail. Your hands claw the carpet as you arch your hips into her, coming and coming like you never have before as her body is wracked by the huge sobs of her pleasure. It lasts longer than you can imagine and when it finally ends you lie stunned, her body a warm, dead weight atop you. Slowly you come down off your high, your body falling into its post-coital lethargy. You gently roll your lover from your body, noticing that she's sleeping deeply. You stagger to your feet and lift her in your arms, making your way to her bedroom. You pull back the covers and deep green bedspread and lay her down, tucking her in gently until only her face, peaceful in repose, peeks out at you. You quickly shower to clear the smell of sex from your body and just as quickly dress, stopping only long enough to kiss her sleeping form gently on the lips and to leave your name and number on a paper beside her bedstand. You smile to yourself as you shut her door, locked, behind you; it has been a day to remember.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/Book_Shelf_A/Asian Fuck (MF, nc, intr).txt
51,528	Anon PIXNIX Author	Awaken (MF)	Your hand comes to immediate and reassuring rest upon the small of my back, as it unfailingly does whenever you are lying next to me as I stir into awakening. We have shared this moment many times over the years, and this familiar yet ever unexpected gesture continues to move me. I sometimes ponder how a subtle, unabated desire for you has remained so alive and flame-like within me; familiarity so often dulls our sensitivity to the changing beauty of those we love. We don't sleep like spoons, and our shared time is as sporadic and imperfect as the paradoxical creatures we ourselves are. We part for a time but always come back to each other to share the intimacy again. Your hand knows (whether you yourself do or not) that I need its warmth, its current, its solidity, to bring my body to life. I have lived much without it, given our penchant for separations, but it is still the current of life to me, that hand on my back; it is my food, my desire, my reason. From your palm to the small of my back and out through my belly, which rests flat on the surface of the bed, your solar glow begins its slow radiance, suffusing my heart with its warmth, flowing downward like molten lava over my Venusian mound, down farther, down the insides of my legs, stirring like lights the inner spaces below my ankles. Perhaps you are still dreaming, unaware of this journey we have begun. It is as though your instinct is ahead of you, moving you toward me, drawing you from your solitary flight in the boundless universe of dreamland. I don't know -- can we ever know another's experience directly? Still, my imagination seeks images of explanation; what is it at your deepest core that knows me? I don't ask, I feel the current travel from you through me and out again; our molecules, heedless of our possible intent, begin their rhythmic intimate dance. I listen to the sound of birds outside our room, then the sound of our breathing, now in unison, all of my senses coming alive. This time, this unique and unrepeatable time, I hear the rustling of the sheets as you stir. Moments pass. Your hand changes pressure ever so slightly. Our breathing is slow, rhythmic, relaxed, yet deeper. My eyes, resisting morning, are still closed and I am awake within that light-darkness. You are wordlessly aware that I am awake; our ritual is silence. We are orphan-close, so far away in this moment from the day which will soon press in upon us. We are farther still from our differences, our troubles, far from who we often pretend we are, even to each other. Do we really even know each other? I think not. Yet, our intimacy is so complete that we are like one being in this quiet time of shared arousal. You withdraw your hand as you turn on your side toward me. I feel a momentary emptiness, a longing, as the current subsides. As you replace your hand on my body, softly stroking, the current begins again. Past images come to me like dreams as you move closer to me. You, on your knees, gripping my arms as I sit, blocked from you by fear yet pulling you down to meet me, your eyes calling me out from my defenses where we can touch ... a San Francisco street corner and your arm encircling my waist, drawing me into you as I am about to obediently follow a green light. The light; the crowd; the sounds; stopped then, as the world has now. You, sweet surprising you, moving toward me pantherlike, unexpected, with the grace of your full presence. I have lived without knowing if you desire me until these moments, coming without warning, taking me from who I thought we were; freeing me. I open to you as your hand moves up from the sacred grove, up the center of my spine, so slow, so unhesitating. I feel lank morning strands of my hair being caressed into beauty, tousled farther across the broad flushed plains of my face. We are quiet and strange to each other, private. I feel your face close over my hair, my ear; we are still and new. I cannot breathe enough and am afraid to breathe, to break this timeless solitude. I am all liquid -- no bones, no muscle, no resistance, as I turn to you; our legs cross-stitching themselves into patterns they know, independent of our effort. My face finds the cave of your throat where it can hide. My tongue sneaks out to lick the salty taste of your skin, my lips nibbling ever so lightly that it would take conscious thought to know if I were grasping your skin or not. My breasts mold against your chest, swaying under the pressure, ripples caused by the rising and lowering of your chest as you breathe. The nipples are taut, stretched to two small peaks jutting up from the white mountains below them; pressing into you, rubbing your nipples as we merge closer to each other. My hand moves up, gently grasping the lobe of your ear, my fingers softly stroking the tender skin that knows my arousing touch; a touch that quickly banishes any divas that might be dancing in your imagination, freeing you to concentrate only on my sexuality and the innate desire to find our shared sexual rhapsody. My hand, having made its familiar connection, slides down your chest and snakes around your man's curve of waist, around farther to that plateau-like center signifying your spine's end, your serpent's tail. My center finger circles that bony terrain, gently pressing, pulling you inextricably to me. It slips down the gully, sliding downwards towards the hidden cavern, still drawing you ever closer to me as my own body presses forward to meet you. We are old friends and new territory, each merging affording new opportunities to explore the others depths of passion and sensitivity. Finding new ways to ignite the soaring experiences of sexual spontaneity. We are deep cavernous lovers; celebrants of the mystery of the ages. We begin to kiss, if such tentative brushes of our lips could be called kisses. Our lips, seemingly negligent parties to our increasing heat, take their time with casual random meetings. Our bodies cling to each other for the promise of some ultimate home, while our mouths impudently enact their own rituals of tasting, biting, cajoling, inspiring deeper breaths and tender urgency. You have confessed to me that you feel fear just before our lovemaking, that you think you always will. It must be now that this primal near-terror begins; now, when you are so vulnerable. I am some dark chasm you cannot enter without risk of somehow becoming lost and changed, without becoming something of a stranger to yourself. For you to pass through to fulfillment, you have to become totally vulnerable, unable to defend yourself from attack. Those moments of thrusting obsession centers all of your being on the staff plunging into the dark, damp orifice between my thighs. Subtly I draw you closer, to reassure you that we each travel towards that total vulnerability together and in our unity we are strength that can not be defeated. That our bodies will sing and throb and from that climax we will emerge with new energies that makes the world new and vibrant. We move toward that universe together, each separate and wandering in the other, uncontrollably pulled and mastered by a need so intense it defies our most holy conventions, our deepest resistances; so humbling that it makes us completely visible, nothing can be hidden. Even our sounds no longer belong to us, but come from some ancient region we inhabited long before our learned expressions. We are floating like phantoms, I am between what I was and what I am becoming. We cannot separate now. Our joining is a threshold where we are no longer alone in the aching way we've know. We are a movement, a pulsation, nothing else.Something at once foreign and remembered. Our bodies clamor now for the ultimate release of the sensations that flood through our veins and seize our every cell. Our hands know their respective paths, even though they meander like wilderness territory. Seeking. Stroking. Stimulating. Striving to arouse each other, and ourselves. Is the feel of my hand sliding over your cock as thrilling to you as the sensations being telegraphed from my fingertips to my mind to my genitals? Each stroke down the length of your swollen member pumps more liquid from within my well. Your hands are igniting the heat from my core, rising it to an inferno of stimuli that engulfs me. A trembling starts from somewhere within the very core of my body. It ripples through me, each wave cresting over the one that seeps out the vaginal channel. Rolling together, your hands steadily guiding me to position atop you, our bodies grinding together, rotating, pushing. Mounted, I hover over your cock. Imperceptibly I lower my body until the silken head of your crown is brushing my tangled hairs. My juices coating you, running down the length of your stiff member. Lower. Lower I sink, allowing the crown to slide just into the opening. Hovering there, my body signals the muscles to clench, grasp, draw on you. With your crown just into the entrance, my muscles squeeze and nibble at your cock-head. Teasing. My breasts sway above you as you reach up to grasp the erect nipples between your fingers. You tweak them, causing torrents to flood through me. I lower my body onto you, impaling myself on your pulsing shaft. Oh! how I love the feel of you sliding into me. My muscles clench tightly while your strength pushes its way through the moist chamber. You push upwards with your hips, driving yourself fully into me. Tremors! Shockwaves of sheer excitement claw and suck at you. More juices soak your skin as you merge with me. Our breaths fill the room with soft wind. I rotate my hips, back and forth; up and down; side to side. Rocking gently on the pivotal point. Always drawing on you, sucking at your balls. Reaching behind moving hips, my fingers caress your balls, sliding downward to stroke the bridge behind them. My breasts jauntily dancing before your eyes. You watch my face, the glow spreading across it as my body screams for more. I am lost. The driving forces are pulling at me to go faster, my body wanting this moment to last to eternity. I can actually feel each rise and hollow of your cock as it thrusts into me. The pliable lip of the crest as it moves back and forth thrusting itself into me like a pile-driver. My heart pounding within my chest sets up a rhythm section to which my hips dance. Pound. Thrust. Pound. Plunge. Pound. Pound. Thrust. Thrust. Faster and faster the drums beat as we merge our bodies on the link of the universe. My face glimmers with the ecstasy flowing through my body as it erupts into a quivering mass of juices and electrical currents that curl my toes behind me as my cunt grips you in staccato clinches. Your cock cannot resist and begins to thrust in for the final plunges before spilling the fluids that threaten to burst your balls. Your legs helping to drive you into me with force. Your moans fill my ear, driving me even faster to meet your surging body. How that sound carries me to oblivion as my own voice harmonizes. Hair swinging wildly about my face as we grind and roll until there are no juices remaining and our strength leaves us weak as newborn kittens. I collapse against you, your strong arms holding me on top while we linger in no-man's land together. I roll to the side, your arms still holding me. Soft mews of pleasure emanate from within, unbidden. Softly you whisper, "Good morning, My Dear, time to awaken."	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/Book_Shelf_A/Awaken (MF).txt
51,764	Douglass Ross	Fantasy Bondage (MF, bdsm)	You are sitting at your desk working on a lazy Friday afternoon when your phone rings. "Hi," you hear me say, "Are you ready for an adventure?" Your heart skips a beat. Every 'adventure' that you have been invited on has been an experience beyond the ordinary, and you are at once nervous and excited about what is about to happen. "Yes," you say in your little-girl voice. You can almost hear me smile at the other end of the phone. "Prepare yourself, and I'll pick you up at your apartment at 7 pm." I hang up the phone, and you are left, wondering at what you are preparing yourself for. You notice that you have become almost instantly wet, and you squirm at the sensation. The minutes between the call and the end of the working day drag on for ages. As soon as work is over, you rush home. As soon as you arrive, you draw a hot bath and take off your clothes. You soak yourself luxuriously, making sure to wash yourself everywhere. You are so aroused by now that you are dying to masturbate, but you know that it is strictly forbidden. You resist the temptation to play with yourself as your washcloth slides over your shaved pussy lips. You take a razor and carefully remove any trace of stubble on your sensitive pussy. It does not take too long, and you are ready. You open your closet and select a pretty white dress. You do not put on either panties or a bra, as these garments are not permitted when you are preparing yourself. You do your hair and makeup, and then you look at yourself in the mirror. The dress is not really see-through, but it is flimsy enough that your dark brown nipples are definitely visible through the thin fabric. You are glad that your pussy is shaved, as a dark-haired pussy would also be instantly visible through the light sundress. You sit down on the corner of the bed and wait patiently. The wait is not long before the doorbell rings. You meet me downstairs, and before entering the car, you raise your skirt to show that you are not wearing underwear. This simple act of submission is scary. You are nervous that someone might see you actually exposing yourself. You keep your skirt raised until I give you permission to lower it. By the time you are sitting in the car, you are flushed hot and wet. You are very curious about where we are going, but you know better than to ask. The drive is not particularly long, and when we arrive, it is to the entrance of a huge home, a veritable mansion. We are greeted by a tall, dark butler who is very handsome. He leads us up the stairs, along a corridor, and into a darkened room. The door shuts behind us, leaving just the two of us alone. "Take off your dress," I say. You pull the dress over your head, leaving you naked. I guide you over to a leather chair that looks a little like what you might expect at a hair-stylist. You sit in the chair and watch as I pull stirrups out of the arms and fit your feet into them. Straps attach your ankles to the metal stirrups, and your feet are adjusted wide apart. Your hands are tied together and attached behind the head rest of the chair. Thin leather straps pull your knees even wider apart, thus completely exposing you. You are now completely helpless. The chair is facing a curtained wall, and you watch as I move over to the side of the room and lower the lights. The curtain moves to the side, and you see that you are now looking at a large window into another room. It is a study of sorts, the walls covered in books. The decor is sparse but tasteful. Black leather chairs and sofas are off to one side, and a large, forbidding desk is off to the other. A man and a woman, both in their mid-30s, both extremely attractive, are sitting on two of the leather chairs in the room. You realize that what you must be looking through is one-way glass. You are about to observe something that the participants will not know you are watching! Your pussy starts to get even wetter as your imagination begins to run wild. You do not have long to wait. The far door to the study opens, and a young girl, perhaps 18 or 19 years old, enters. She immediately presents herself in front of the older couple. She is wearing a pretty little black and white maid's uniform on her petite body. She is blond, with short curly hair, and her legs seem very long in the short uniform skirt. The sound from the room comes through a speaker in the wall. "Denise, you have been very displeasing," says the man. "I am sorry, Sir," says the maid, bowing her head. "I will try to do better." "No, Denise, you are going to have to live with the consequences of your behavior," says the older woman, "You are going to be punished for your poor performance." Denise's eyes open wide. "Oh, please don't," she pleads, "Please...?" The pleading falls on deaf ears, however. The older woman stands up and comes over to the maid. "Turn around, Denise," she says. The maid slowly, hesitantly turns to face away from them. You imagine yourself in the room, what it would feel like to be facing away from this couple, not able to see what they will do to you next. The thought sends a shiver down your spine. The older woman reaches down and grasps the hem of the maid's uniform. With one motion, she pulls it up over the head of the young girl and off of her. She is left now, only in her panties and bra. The bra is next, and the older woman quickly unhooks it and pulls it off. Now she grasps the waistband of the white cotton panties, which are the last defense of the young maid. You can hear the young teenager whimpering as the skimpy garment is slowly, gently slid down her long, tanned legs. Now naked, Denise is instructed to clasp her hands on top of her head and keep them there. The older couple leaves her there for a couple of minutes, letting the anticipation build. Yours is building also. Now the man stands up and takes Denise's hands and ties them behind her. Her right wrist is tied to her left elbow, and her left wrist is tied to her right elbow. It is a position you know well. It leaves your breasts, pussy, and ass completely exposed and helpless for whatever your master or mistress wish to do to you. Denise is now turned around, and you see her front for the first time. She is beautiful. Her breasts are firm and trim, but topped with very long brown nipples, almost like your own. Her body is long and lean, like a gymnast's, and her pussy is also shaved completely bare. You watch as the older woman approaches the maid, holding a couple of nipple clips. As they are attached, you feel me reach around to attach two clips to your own nipples. You and Denise moan with one voice as the metal clips fasten onto your sensitive breasts. Denise is now led over to a straight-backed chair, and the older woman pulls her over her knee. You know that the young submissive is in for a bare-bottomed spanking, and you are very hot knowing that you will be able to see it. The woman is not in a hurry to begin the punishment, however. She orders the girl to spread her legs wide apart, and you see her begin to caress the teenager from behind. You feel the chair beneath you begin to shift, and you are startled by the movement. The seat under you slowly spreads apart into two halves. The now warm leather pulls your buttocks with it, thus holding your anus and pussy completely open. You feel something cool and hard touch your ass, and my hand moves beneath you to adjust it so it is touching the center of your anus. The hard, lubricated dildo slides slowly but relentlessly up into your bottom. You gasp at the sensation; you are, of course, helpless to do anything about it as the unyielding intruder slides further and further up into your body. You are breathing in short, ragged breaths, and your whole body is trembling by the time the anal dildo stops moving upward.You are fully impaled by it. Your ass is stretched uncomfortably wide, and you are filled totally. You look ahead to see that Denise has suffered much the same fate. Her bottom now has the end of a plastic butt plug sticking from it. Her paddling is about to start, and you watch as the leather-covered paddle descends on her helpless white buttocks. The sharp crack of it sounds again and again as she is spanked. The anal dildo in your rear now starts to move slowly in and out in long, full strokes. You gasp at every insertion. Denise's bottom is red before she is allowed to stand, and as she does so, you see me move to in front of you again. I attach 2 clips to your pussy, and you feel them pulling your pussy open to expose the pink interior. Denise is now being placed on her back on the large table in the room. Her nipple clips are being played with by the older man as the woman ties her with her knees wide apart. You feel a thick vibrator being slid into your soaking pussy as Denise suffers the same fate. Your moans and cries are almost identical to those coming from the other room as Denise's vibrator fills her up and then turns on. The humming in your own pussy is bringing you close to an orgasm, and I quickly reach down to shut it off. "Not yet," I whisper. You squirm in frustration, pulling at your bonds, desperate to touch yourself. The dildo in your bottom continues to move, and you push yourself down on it, trying to get it deeper into you. The woman in the other room has now picked up a crop and is stroking the young slave's inner thighs with it. "Please no... Please don't whip my little pussy," pleads the petite maid. The older woman just smiles. The first stroke of the crop on her pussy is quick and is quickly followed by several more. You watch as the crop strikes all over the sensitive flesh. You know exactly how she is feeling, and you moan again in frustration as you feel your own juices trickling down your thighs. The crop is now aimed at Denise's sensitive anus, and you see it strike at and around the butt plug there. Denise is straining at her bonds as the crop strikes. You know that vibrator or not, you are soon going to come, and just then, the vibrator starts again. It moves swiftly in and out of you, and you feel your toes curl as your feet pull against the stirrups. Denise cries out as her orgasm hits her. The sound of her cries sets you off, and you cry out yourself as wave after wave of orgasm racks your body. You pull at your bonds with the familiar feeling of helplessness as your hands pull into little fists, and you squirm back and forth. You let yourself go totally into the orgasm, feeling your stomach and thighs spasm again and again. Finally, the vibrator is removed, and as though from far away, you feel the anal dildo slide out, and my fingers remove the nipple and pussy clips from you. You are almost in a dream state as you feel me lean down until my lips are touching your ear. "Soon you will be punished together," you hear me say, and you drift off to sleep with a contented smile on your face, knowing there is more to come.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/Book_Shelf_F/Fantasy Bondage (MF, bdsm).txt
51,851	[email protected]	Fantasy Fulfilment (dom)	You were wearing your high black leather boots, leather panties, and a black leather jacket with fringes. I smiled and said, "You look good enough to eat." You said, "Maybe later. Right now, I'm going to fulfill a fantasy for you. Want to be my slave?" "Yes." "Good. Come over here and take off your clothes. Now kneel at my feet. Good slave. Now lift up your neck so I can put on your collar. Good. Take off my right boot and massage my foot... That's good... keep up the good work as you stroke my genitals with your booted left foot... Now, do the left... Good. Put my boots back on now. Put your hands behind your back, wrists together. You won't be needing them for a while, so I'm going to handcuff them together. Unbuckle my panties with your teeth, slave. Now lick me... That's enough, come with me to the bed... Are you going to make me come if we fuck, slave?" "Yes." "You had better, or you will be punished." You straddled me, and we started to make slow, delicious love. You picked up the pace, and I came too soon. You straddled my face again, and I licked you, trying to please you. "Slave, you still haven't made me come. It's time for your punishment. Get on your hands and knees." I crouch on the bed while you whip my ass with a riding crop. "So, how did you like it?" "I loved it. When can we do it again?"	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/Book_Shelf_F/Fantasy Fulfilment (dom).txt
52,059	Anon Author	Sheena's Lab Guy	Yesterday afternoon's lab class was pretty boring, but the lab instructor was such a sweet piece of meat that it made the class enjoyable. Ever since the semester started, I knew that I wanted him... my pussy told me so. He's six feet tall (I love tall men) with blonde hair and great blue eyes. I was eager to find out if the hair next to his cock was as blonde as his hair. The thought of finding out excited me. I decided that I would fuck him. How could I resist this 24-year-old stud, who I knew couldn't resist me? I made up my mind that I'd fuck him last night. After the lab, I waited until everybody left... I screwed around putting my things away very slowly. He always stayed until every student left because we're not allowed to be in the labs alone. I went up to him and asked him a few mundane questions, which he answered. Right in the middle of one of his answers, I told him point-blank, "I want to fuck you." You should have seen the look on his face. He didn't know what to say. I continued, "Let's go to your office." Surprisingly, he agreed. It was just upstairs, and it was about 5:10, so all of the secretaries were gone. We stepped into his office, and he shut the door behind us. I pounced on him, and he responded quite eagerly. He grabbed my ass and was rubbing it quite frantically. He pushed me onto his desk and then unbuttoned my shirt and feasted on my breasts... fuck, did his tongue ever feel good! He was chewing on my nipples, and I could feel the dampness between my legs increase. I pushed him off me. I went down on my knees and undid his belt and unzipped his fly. Out sprang my reward... fuck, was it huge. Needless to say, I grabbed that toy and stuck it into my mouth and sucked on it like it was an all-day sucker. I've had quite a few cocks in my day, but I gotta tell ya, this one was one of the biggest. He finally became more verbal and was telling me how good my tongue and mouth felt. I sucked harder and caressed his balls. I looked up at his face, and I could tell he was in some serious pleasure. I stopped and ordered him to get undressed in front of me. He was a bit shy, but he complied. Nice body. I asked him if he worked out, and he said all the time. I could tell. I knew he would make me cum. I slid out of my dress and laid on his desk. I spread my legs, exposing my love hole, and told him to come and get it. He fucked me so hard until I came and came until I thought I was going to pass out. His thick shaft stretched my pussy walls, aching for his manhood. Then I could feel his cock twitch, and his moans were getting louder, and his rhythm increased, then he yelled in pleasure as he rammed me and spilled his precious cock juice into my eager hole. He was good. He laid on top of me for a while. I pushed him off, and quickly got dressed. I told him if he wants more sometime... let me know. He nodded. Next time, I hope he talks a little more. But as long as he is a good lay... who needs to talk? I'm planning to get an A on my chem lab. Lustfully yours, Sheena. P.S. Yes, his pubes were blonde. How exciting! The end.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/Book_Shelf_S/Sheena's Lab Guy (MF, school affair).txt
52,077	John Carter	Susie Q's Party Game	You are at a party with Paul. You know about 1/3 of the people, and it seems a friendly group. People are getting to know each other, and a group in the back bedroom is playing "Dare." Dare, you find out, is a game where you pick a card when your turn comes and must accept the dare or take off something. One man is shirtless when you walk in, so the game has been going for a little while. One girl you don't know is in her slip. You ask Paul to join the game with you, but he wants to talk to some friends in the kitchen. You go in alone. When your turn comes, you are to, "With a blindfold on, Kiss 3 members of the opposite sex and then say who was who." Three men are picked out, you are blindfolded. The first seems to be trying to lick your tonsils. The second uses less tongue, but spends nearly a minute feeling your ass as he kisses you. The third also uses a lot of tongue and not only feels your ass, but fondles your breasts as well. You tolerate all of it because if you stop any of them, you will fail the dare. You take off the blindfold and correctly pick out the three, one because of a beard, and the other two because of a guess at their height. When it is your turn again, a woman is down to bra and panties, a man to his shorts, and you draw, "Show your underwear to anyone who can guess its color. Three people can try." You take a deep breath because you are wearing a garter belt with matching see-through black panties. You know that you can easily read through them. Again three men are picked from the group. The first guesses that you aren't wearing any. You laugh and tell him he's wrong. The second guesses black, and you realize he's won. You get him to back up and lift your dress so that only he can see. He whistles appreciatively. The host of the game tells you that since you lost, you have to take something off, and with a sly grin, you reach under your skirt and untie the ends of your panties and set them on the dresser with the other discarded clothing. As you watch, two men lose trousers and a woman loses her bra, and two people quit the game, leaving only about ten of you in there. The woman with nothing covering her breasts reminds the group that you haven't had as many questions as the rest and suggests that you get 2 extra to get even with the group. The group ignores your answer and quickly votes to give you the extra dares. Your next card says, "Take off your bra without unfastening anything on your dress or blouse." As your bra opens in the front, you are able to open it and pass each half down one of your arms without real trouble. As people see it, comments are made that it can easily be seen through. The host tells you that a rule of the game forbids putting anything back on. The next card says, "Have 3 members of your sex draw straws, and spend at least a minute French kissing them." They dig up some matches, and all of the women pick one. Nancy, a red-haired woman of about 24, (38-24-36, 5'10") wins. She grins and says that she always likes to win this part. She makes you sit on her lap, and the host reminds you if you break the kiss, you will lose the dare. Nancy begins kissing you with great determination, and knowing that you have nothing much on beneath your dress, first fondles your breasts and then slides a hand under your skirt, right onto your mound, playing with your clit. You hold the kiss, but can't sit still with those experienced hands on your clit. She brings you to orgasm expertly, as you twist on her lap. When you break the kiss, the group applauds, and you see that 6 minutes have passed. Nancy keeps her hand on your throbbing cunt for a moment, and then you stand up. She still doesn't relinquish her grip until you have taken a few steps away. Your breath is faster than before, as you watch the next round go on. A man loses his shorts, exposing a thick hard-on. A second woman gives up her top. The woman with no top loses her skirt, leaving her with nothing. You wonder what will happen if they lose again. Bob takes this moment to return to the room. The host asks him if he wants to stay. Staring at the breasts of the two women, Bob says yes. They tell him that he must answer 5 dares if he is to remain. He gets the "Kiss 3 people of the opposite sex" dare, and you are second, Nancy is third. You grope Bob as the first woman has, rubbing his cock through his trousers. Nancy does you one better, unzipping his fly and reaching inside. Bob doesn't get you (thinks you were no. 1) and loses 4 of the 5, leaving him standing there in his shorts, with his erection trying to poke its way out. The host announces that things have gone far enough to bring out the really adult cards. You get the first. You are blindfolded, and three pricks are put into your hands. You are amazed that you can't tell Bob's from the others. As everyone in the room looks on, you remove your top. The naked woman loses her dare as well, and all of the men draw straws. The host tells her that she will have to sit on the lap of the winner for at least 5 minutes. You watch her sit on the winner's lap, as he carefully slips his prick into her dripping hole, wondering if that will be your penalty as well. You all watch as the host times the woman. She tries not to react, as if her not moving would convince everyone that she is not really being screwed in front of everyone, but the man's slow stroking of her pussy causes her to begin to react after about three minutes. She is just getting into it when the host calls time and makes her get up. Everyone laughs at her reactions as Nancy and the host pull her off the man's erect member. Your next dare is to "Look at three Women's breasts and then identify them while blindfolded and touching them only with your tongue." Nancy quickly volunteers, as do two other women. You look at their breasts, gauging their size and characteristics, and then are blindfolded. Your tongue makes contact with each breast in turn. You decide to try something and really give each of them a working over until they make some sound. The second woman is quiet until you use your teeth on her nipple and can't hold back her moan of pleasure. The third makes a moaning sound from the first lick. You recognize Nancy as the first, and guess at the other two. You are right. The Host calls you for a penalty. You used your teeth on one, and he tells you to remove your skirt. He was going to go further, but you can see in his eyes that he finds your black and red garter belt very kinky. He tells you that you must keep it on, but that you will have to pay off penalties the same as the other nude players from now on. He reaches into the penalty box and picks out an "ADULT" card. He doesn't show it to you, but has the three women read it. They slowly surround you and move you to the bed. Nancy sits down, and the other two arrange you on her lap. The one whose breasts you bit sits at your head so that your face rests on her mound and holds your arms so that you can't move. The last one holds your legs and begins to play with your cunt. "She really is wet, Nancy," you hear her say as her fingers begin to finger your clit and deeply probe you at the same time. Your hips involuntarily begin to squirm on Nancy's lap as Nancy delivers the first spank. Nancy continues for a moment and then asks you, "How many was that?" You don't know. She says, "Then we'll start over." Nancy continues spanking you while your cunt is being probed.At twenty, you hear her say to the woman holding your arms, "Has she started licking yet?" When she hears the "No," Nancy says, "We'll start again." You bury your face in the cunt that belongs to a woman whose name you realize you have no idea of. When Nancy asks you again, "How many was that?" Your count was 23. You guess that you've missed some and say, "Twenty-five." Nancy says, "No. You'll have to do better, we'll start again." You can hear the others in the group applaud and call out encouragement, not to you, but to your tormentors. You hear Paul also congratulating Nancy on the show she is making you put on. At the same time, the hands on your cunt have never slowed down. You have lost count of your orgasms (there have been at least 5), and judging from the number of times the woman you are licking has grabbed your head, she has had at least 3. The next time Nancy asks you, you tell her 25, and she tells you you are right. She asks, "Sheila, are you satisfied?" to the woman at your head, and you hear her say, "For now, unless she's grown a dick," and the woman probing your love box also says she is done. Nancy tells you that you must count out the next ten swats so that everyone in the room can hear, and then thank her, Sheila, and Sandy by kissing their cunts. You agree. She takes over a minute to spank you ten times. You kiss Sheila's cunt without getting up and thank her. You get up and kiss Sandy's cunt and thank her, leaving Nancy's for last. You spend about three minutes on Nancy until you hear her come, and then thank her, and as you do, you realize that you mean it. The experience was most gratifying. Paul draws the next dare... Paul picks out a dare card, and his reaction to reading it shows he didn't expect it. "Using only your mouth, identify the cocks of 3 men while blindfolded." He turns to you and says, "You know, I really don't want to do this." You answer him, "You enjoyed watching me with 3 women. It's not going to kill you, and besides, think of what our host will think of as a penalty if you refuse." He thinks for a moment and decides to try it. You're not sure which of your arguments convinced him. You stare appreciatively at the three hard-ons that are displayed before the group. Paul is blindfolded, and you coax him by telling him that this is exciting you tremendously. He is done in less than a minute, and only guesses one right. The host asks you to help with his penalty. Still blindfolded, he is forced to sit on the end of the bed. The remaining women in the room undress. Clothing is no longer a penalty. Each sits on his raging cock for exactly one minute. You are the fourth, and Paul recognizes you by the stockings you are wearing, if by nothing else, and he begs you to stay long enough to let him come. You give him a throat-clearing kiss and leave on time as his hips buck towards you. Nancy is the last one to slip onto his cock. She teases him mercilessly and leaves without letting him come. You tell the host you will help with any penalties that he needs you to. The host smiles at you and says that you will be welcome to join in on the next few... You see Nancy get the next card. She seems amused. She reads the card out, "Pick out three men and handle their cocks. While blindfolded, sit on their cocks and identify all three." She picks out three men from the group, but tells Paul that he's had too much recently and avoids him. She handles each cock until it is firm and is then blindfolded. She humps each one soundly, giving none of them a chance to come, though she is able to come on the third cock. She guesses wrong, and the general consensus is that she wanted to lose. The host asks you to help. Nancy is tied down on her face on the bed so that her hips bend at the edge. Each man is to fuck her for exactly one minute. You are to stand near her and insert each prick. The host will time them. You are to withdraw each one (by the balls if necessary) at his signal. You speak to Paul for a moment and take your station. You grasp the first of the 6 pricks that will enter Nancy's hole with both hands. Saying that it is necessary, you moisten it with your tongue, and then expertly insert it. Just as she is beginning to move in time with her partner, the host signals you to end it. You gently grasp the prick and stop its fucking motion. You also moisten the second one with your warm mouth, putting it in and withdrawing it before she can get any satisfaction. The third and fourth go the same way. The host takes the fifth position, and you spend extra time on his cock, and mischievously ask him if he really wants you to stop. He tells you that he'll let you continue later. Paul is last. Nancy was thrusting her hips forcefully at the last two pricks, and you tease her by taking extra time opening the folds of her cunt for this last attack. Your finger slides across her clit as you open her. Paul enters her like the others, but after about 4 strokes, you have him pull out and, with your help, slide into her ass. Paul is in for only the requisite minute when the host calls time. Nancy thrusts back her hips to try to keep his swollen member in place, but to no avail. The host asks for a vote on a special penalty for you. Nancy rolls over on her back, her hand slowly drifting towards her hungry snatch. No one votes against your special penalty. The host blindfolds you so that people can "Give you what you should get without your knowing who did what." A blindfold is placed over your eyes, and several sets of hands push you down on the bed. A cock prods against your mouth, and you hungrily begin sucking on it. A second buries itself into your dripping cunt, but after about 4 strokes, slips out. You feel your ass cheeks being parted. In a single thrust, he is in your ass. Only the cock in your mouth prevents you from crying out. You are rolled over on your side slowly so as not to dislodge either of the pricks fucking you, and two mouths begin sucking on your breasts. You feel that at least one is a woman's, as you can feel no beard. Someone crowds up to your sex and tries to enter you. After a second, they succeed. You feel as if a mob was fucking you all at once... The whole group has seemingly climbed on you. The cock in your mouth is pumping with abandon. The cock in your cunt is pumping away, but with some difficulty. The one in your ass is still penetrating you, but its owner seems to be getting most of his stimulation from your heaves in reaction to the others on you. The two mouths on your breasts alternate between teasing you and stimulating you as hard as you can take it. You are glad for the blindfold in a way. The extra stimulation would only be a distraction. Someone takes your hand and puts it in their cunt and begins rubbing off on your fingers, using them like a dildo. You are so overwhelmed by all this, you can only react. It is as if you have become an object, losing your will. The cock in your mouth begins to pulse. Seconds later, a milky stream spurts down your throat. You try to take it all, but some drips down your cheek. Before you can recover, a pussy is put in its place, and you try to lick it correctly. The pair sharing your ass and cunt seem to have reached a rhythm together, their pumping forcing you to come. As you reach your second orgasm, you hear a cry, and the man humping your cunt comes. As he slowly withdraws, you can feel his semen slowly begin to run out of your hole. His partner in your ass continues to pump, if anything, with more force now. A face appears at your cunt and begins licking you out with a frenzy. The sensation of being ass-fucked and eaten together is a new one for you, and you begin to come again. Your hair is pulled, and you try to keep up with the demands of the cunt in your face. A new cock appears in your hand, and you begin rubbing it up and down. One of the mouths on your nipples leaves, and a rough pair of hands begins rubbing your entire breast, kneading it like dough. Off to one side of the group, someone is asking to give you a REAL spanking. The pussy you have been sucking on seems to force itself down harder. You lick it for all you are worth. Her thighs crush your face as she reaches orgasm. A new cock quickly replaces it and forces its way into your mouth. You picture a line of people at each of your apertures, waiting for a turn. You also realize that you have lost any connection between these sexual organs and the people they are attached to. The blindfold has taken away everything but your ability to feel what is happening, and you admit to yourself, you had secretly hoped something like this would happen. You had been in a constant state of arousal since Nancy fingered you. The man fucking your ass has seemingly reached a point of no return. He grabs your hips and takes charge of your movements. Seconds later, you sense rather than feel him spurting deep into your core. He lays down next to you, and you feel his cock soften, slowly slipping out of your ass. He slides away, leaving your backside exposed. The mouth on your right breast is replaced by another rough hand. Your breasts are massaged in tandem now. One hand leaves, and seconds later, you feel something on your chest, in the valley between your breasts. A hand spreads it around, and it seems to be hand lotion. Someone climbs on your stomach, slides up, and places a hard cock between your oiled tits. His hands push your breasts together, making them into a cunt for him to fuck. He goes after you with abandon. The cock in your mouth goes away without shooting down your throat. The cock in your hand is replaced by a steamy cunt.Someone is kissing your mouth, a woman you think, her tongue snaking down your throat. You can feel come leaking from your ass and cunt. The penis fucking your tits increases its speed. Someone pulls your legs up, exposing your ass. Ten hard swats are spread over the next minute, though someone's hand is now in your pussy, bringing you off. The cock on your chest begins to spurt, come hits your face, dripping down. The woman kissing you must have been hit too, but she has continued tonguing you without a miss. He gets off your chest. The mouth kissing you departs as does the finger in your snatch. You lay there exhausted for a moment. After about a minute, the blindfold is removed. You are handed a towel and you pat yourself as you stare at the assembled group. You realize that your boyfriend was one of them, and that you couldn't even tell him from the others. The host tells you to thank each of them and tells you how. You kiss each woman's cunt and kiss and mouth each man's prick, thanking each of them. Just then the door opens, "Where is every... body? Boy was I in the wrong room!" the newcomer says.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/Book_Shelf_S/Susie Q's Party Game (MF, party games).txt
52,253	Frank McCoy	Sleeping Little Sister (inc)	You wouldn't believe how tight my little sister is. What's that you say? "You wouldn't believe someone would be so perverted as to fuck his own little sister?" Well, what would YOU do if your sexy little sister came into your room one night and climbed into bed with you, stark naked? Sure you would. SUUURE you would. And you would send back the winning million-dollar lottery ticket too, saying you didn't deserve it. Actually, the first time it happened, it was completely innocent. Honest. Well, for Chrissie it was anyway. My little sister had just gotten cold, as the temperature outside dipped down to almost 30 below. We live in this old farmhouse about ten miles outside of Embarrass, Minnesota, where the usual joke is, "I'd call it Embarrass too. I'd be embarrassed to live in a place that got that cold!" Actually, around here, people are more likely to BOAST about how cold it gets than complain. Comments like, "Gee, did you know that it got down to 47 below at our house last night?" would be followed by a, "So what? WE got down to 52 below." My father used to say that "The first liar never had a chance." Still, WE never lied about OUR cold records, and as far as I know, our neighbors were as scrupulously honest as we were. It's just COLD in this part of Minnesota. Those people who don't get macho enough to brag about the cold usually wimp out and leave in a few years. Anyway, Chrissie has the room next to mine, and about 15 feet further from the thermostat, and further from the center of the house. Also, the duct-work into her room doesn't get as much warm air from the furnace. Usually, Chrissie doesn't mind; she just has one more blanket than I do. However, this night was not only cold, but the wind was coming from the east for a change, and my father had just installed the new thermostat to save energy by automatically turning the heat down at night. It must have been freezing in my little sister's bedroom. So, the little girl got up, came down the hall, and slipped into bed with me. All very innocent. "Huh?" you say. "Innocent?" "Climbing into bed naked, with your own big brother?" I see I'll have to explain a little more. Up to about a year ago, when Chrissie got cold, she used to climb into bed with Mom and Dad. She started doing this when she was about three years old. However, last year, Mom had put a stop to it. I think it was because at 10 years old, Chrissie's body was starting to have an effect on Dad, and Mom didn't want there to be any "accidents" in the middle of the night. Besides, Mom liked her privacy, and Chrissie was getting old enough that she might notice certain "things." Well, Dad's loss was my gain. Not being allowed to sleep with Mom and Dad anymore, Chrissie figured that her big brother wouldn't mind if she slipped into bed with him.Well, hard-on raising, anyway. Only I already had a hard-on, and Chrissie didn't even seem to be aware that her cute little rear was rubbing against a throbbing erection that was simply aching to slip up inside her tight little cunny and squirt her full of her big brother's cum. I didn't do it, of course. I was too scared of what would happen if she woke up while I was halfway inside her. Could you imagine the yelling, screaming, and accusations? Well, I did. So I didn't try to fuck Chrissie... At least, not then. I did start sliding my prick back and forth, up against my little sister's cute little butt, between her legs, and even up against her pubic mound. Back and forth, until my prick was drooling pre-cum, lubricating the sensuous slide between the little girl's legs even more. When the head of my cock got real slippery, the top even spread my little sister's cunny-lips, until I could feel her pubes wrapped halfway around it and knew the sweetest little hole in the world was sliding along the top of my aching penis. That was it. Before I was even aware that I was about to cum, I was doing it, squirting great sticky gobs all over my little sister's ass, between her slim little legs, and even all over her pubes and in between them. It was like some silly comedy, where I couldn't get the damned thing to stop squirting. By the time I stopped squirting, my little sister was a mess. So was I, with white greasy cum all over my hand, where I had been desperately trying to keep from getting any on the bed. Mostly I had succeeded, but at the expense of squirting more of it all over Chrissie. I knew I had to clean up the mess before Chrissie woke up and wondered what was happening. I knew I could never satisfactorily explain this. Chrissie still didn't want to let me go, but I finally managed to work my hand out from under hers and make a bolt for the bathroom. I didn't dare stop to pee, even though my prick was now threatening to make an even bigger mess if I ignored it much more. I gritted my teeth and dashed back into the bedroom with a whole roll of toilet paper. First, I grabbed a wad and stopped the more obvious drips from reaching the bed. Then I wiped my hand and tried to clean Chrissie up without waking her. Chrissie slept like a log. Only when I had finished up with the more obvious mess did I worry about what my little sister had between her legs. What a sticky, gooey mess! Ready to bolt and play "sleep" at an instant, I carefully lifted my little sister's leg and wiped up the streaks of cum between them until I came to the most delicate job of all. Chrissie's crotch was slippery, where I must have squirted three or four healthy gobs of cum all over her pubic mound. Carefully I wiped up there too. Chrissie didn't wake up or even move much, except when I wiped right between her little mounds that made up the outer lips of her bare little cunny. Chrissie moaned, and I thought she might wake up, but she only pressed her little pubic mound more firmly against my probing hand while I froze in fright. When I realized she wasn't going to wake up after all and even seemed to like the feel of my hand between her legs, I couldn't resist letting my big finger slip between the lips of her crack. It was warm and incredibly slippery in there, as some of my cum must have accidentally gotten inside. I didn't dare wipe her there with the rough tissue, so I tried to kind of "sweep" the extra goo out with my finger. I didn't really succeed, but something else happened instead. Chrissie seemed to like the feel, and she pushed back at my probing finger until it slipped halfway up inside her hot little hole. Oh shit! As I said before, you wouldn't believe how tight my little sister is. Or how hot and wet she is inside. I almost fainted from the feeling of my little sister's vagina sucking on my finger like a calf sucking on its mother. The thought of how it would feel sucking on my prick was almost enough to make me repeat my earlier embarrassing episode. I couldn't resist sliding my sperm-slippery finger even further up inside my little sister to see what would happen. "Mmmm," moaned Chrissie, making my hair stand on end. Surprisingly, having her big brother feeling her up didn't wake her. In fact, she seemed to slip into an even deeper sleep, hugging the pillow instead of my arm this time. I don't know how long I might have remained there sliding my finger in and out of my little sister's hot wet hole, but I was forced to quit fairly rapidly. The pressure in my bladder told me I had two choices: Either make a mad dash for the bathroom, or make a hell of a mess on the bed. I pulled my finger out of Chrissie (this almost did wake her up!) and just made it to the toilet before losing control. I actually made a slight mess on the seat, but that was easily cleaned up. After I had finished, I returned to bed and went back to sleep. Yes, sleep. With the pressure off both my balls and bladder, the very thought of the risks I had been taking was enough to give me the shivers. If I had been caught... shudder I moved as far away from Chrissie as I could and went back to sleep. The sensual feel of my little sister's skin rubbing against my leg was a wonderful way to wake up in the morning. Her lithe young body next to me made me want to hold and cuddle her all day long. It was only when I remembered the narrow chance I had taken the previous night that my hair stood on end, and I hurriedly moved away from my sister. Chrissie didn't even notice. Cheerfully she got up and walked back to her bedroom to get dressed, now that the temperature was back up. She didn't even seem to notice or care that I was staring at her naked body with interest until she left the room. Well, that should have been that. Only what had happened that night haunted me for the next three days. Visions of my little sister's naked body lying next to me covered with my sperm filled my thoughts, while I imagined her sexy little butt against my stomach again and dreamed of my prick sliding up inside her tight little hole, just like my finger had. I don't know why Chrissie slipped into my bed that night, three days after the first episode. It wasn't nearly as cold as before, and the wind was from the west, like it usually is. Still, I didn't object. This time, Chrissie just slipped into my room right at bedtime, instead of the middle of the night. "You don't mind if I sleep with you tonight, do you?" she asked, but didn't wait for an answer before slipping under the covers with me. For the second time in a week, I found myself in bed with a cute, squirming, sexy, and very naked little girl. Only this time, I was fully aware of the possibilities. My prick exploded into an erection, like a poker sticking out in front of me. I knew Chrissie could feel it, as it was poking her in her soft little tummy. Surprisingly, she didn't seem to mind. She just moved over, turned her back to me, and snuggled back to me again, ignoring the fact that my prick was sliding halfway between her legs. I ran my hand over her flat little tummy and up over her budding young breasts, and Chrissie just giggled. Only when I started rubbing her pubic mound did my sister reach down, grab my hand, and firmly place it back on her sweet little tit where it belonged. Two minutes later, Chrissie was asleep. There's no way I could get to sleep. The sensual feel of my little sister's skin against mine, the smell of her sexy long hair in my nose, the feel of my prick rubbing against her slim little leg... well, you get the idea. I'll be able to ignore my little sister when I'm dead. Part of me was far from dead at that moment, and it took over most of my thinking. Yeah, my prick was as hard as a rock, and the sexy dreams I had been having all week about my little sister didn't help matters either. I waited, almost holding my breath, until I was sure Chrissie was asleep. Then I waited some more, listening to her quiet breathing for over half an hour, to be sure she wasn't faking. "Chrissie," I said, then louder, "Chrissie?" There was no response, except the quiet breathing of my little sister and the slow rise and fall of her chest against my hand. This time, when I ran my hand down her tummy and then on until it rubbed her pubis, she didn't object. Chrissie was really asleep. By now, my prick had been leaking slippery pre-cum for almost a half-an-hour. So, it was with no difficulty at all that I slipped the head of it between my sister's legs. I wanted to repeat the thing I had done the previous night. Only this time I had a roll of tissue paper by the bed and a towel handy too. I wasn't going to be caught unprepared this time. So, I started doing it again, sliding my prick up against my little sister's butt, between her legs, and even up against her tight little hole. Two or three times, I felt the tiny little hole against the top of my prick, until I couldn't resist and slid down in bed, until I could angle my prick up so the tip poked into the furrow that guarded my little sister's vagina. I could actually feel my sister's tiny little vagina in a circle around the head of my prick. There was no way that I figured I could actually get my penis inside her, but just the thought was enough. I came again. Only this time, I didn't get it all over the bed. I got it all over the inside of my little sister's vagina, instead. Uhuh.I had the tip of my prick poking into Chrissie's tight little hole, when it exploded, and I let every drop squirt right up inside her. I hadn't really planned on doing this, but I did it anyway. (Actually, I had planned to use the towel, but once I started squirting in Chrissie, it was too late.) Knowing my sperm was going into my own sister's body was incredibly sexy. It was also a relief to know I wasn't getting it all over her body and the sheets, like last time. I didn't dare pull away until I had spasmed the little girl full of every drop of incestuous sperm I had in me, and my prick was finally wilting like six-week-old celery. Since I had squirted it inside her, I couldn't wipe my cum out like I wiped it up last time, so I stuck a wad of tissue into my little sister's crack and drifted off to sleep. About an hour later, I woke up sweating. What if Chrissie woke up and found a wad of tissue holding my sperm from leaking out of her hole? There's no way she wouldn't be able to figure out what had happened. I hurriedly reached down and managed to work the wad of tissue out, without waking my little sister. Only now I couldn't get back to sleep. My little sister's sexy little body next to mine, and the knowledge of how close her tight little slit was to the head of my prick wouldn't let me. Finally, I knew I had to try again to blow another load of cum into my little sister, or I wouldn't get any sleep at all. That's all I intended to do... Slide my prick in and out, just like before, and jack off into my little sister. I didn't really plan on fucking her... Honest. Only when I was rubbing up against Chrissie's vagina this time, her hole was so slippery with my sperm inside her, and the head of my prick was so slippery with pre-cum that when I tried to seal the head of my prick against her vagina, so I didn't get any cum on the bed, it just slipped inside. The head of my prick, that is. The feel of my little sister's cunny-lips snapping over the head of my penis was too much. I had planned on a nice long session of bringing myself to the brink several times, before I squirted my seed inside Chrissie, but feeling her incredibly tight little hole squeezing and milking on the head of my prick caused me to cum almost instantaneously. Just like the previous night, this time it seemed to go on and on. Squirt after squirt of thick sticky cum spat into my little sister's belly. Gob after gob. Jet after jet. I must have ejaculated almost a pint of warm greasy cum into my little sister, and it's a wonder her flat little tummy didn't bulge from the internal pressure. I fell asleep that way, with my prick holding my sperm bottled up in my little sister's womb. Two hours later, I repeated the job. I woke up, found my prick leaking cum in my little sister's belly, and slid the head in and out until I came again. This time, I made sure I had the head of my prick inside her, while I spasmed her tight little tunnel full of warm greasy cum. In the morning, I did it again. In fact, Chrissie was just starting to wake up as I left the last sticky drop of incestuous seed squirting in my little sister's hole. I don't know what Chrissie thought about being so wet between the legs, but she seemed to be embarrassed. Perhaps she thought she had been having a wet-dream. For sure she didn't seem to feel my prick pull out of her vagina as she got up and then dashed for the bathroom to pee. Well, as you can imagine, I did it again. And again, and again. For almost a month, Chrissie stopped by every two or three nights, and once she was asleep, I would fuck her. By the third time, I started trying to push more than just the head of my prick inside her, and by the fifth, I was sliding my prick up in my little sister's belly, until my balls were rubbing against her bare little cunny lips. After that first disaster, I never wasted a drop outside of Chrissie's tight little hole. And God was she Tight! But that made it feel all the better to my horny prick, and safer too, as she was less likely to leak, once I had squirted inside her. Usually, I would spend the whole night with my prick buried in my little sister's body, only pulling out when I woke up the next morning. It's funny, but sliding my prick up inside her tight little hole never seemed to disturb Chrissie's sleep at all. Not even when it first went in, and it was all I could do to make it fit. (God, she's tight!) However, pulling it out almost always did. Quite a few times, I lay there and sweated, while Chrissie's breath grew ragged in the middle of the night, after I had came inside her, waiting for her to go back to sleep, so I could clean her up, while worrying about what she'd say if she figured out why her crotch was such a mess. After a while though, I solved this problem by just leaving it in my sister, bottling up my sperm inside her, until we got up in the morning. Since I usually woke up first, this worked out pretty good. As I said, usually I woke up first, pulling out and shaking Chrissie at the same time, so she wouldn't associate being woke up with the fact that my prick was no longer filling her snug little hole, or the snapping sensation of her cunny-lips popping off the head of her brother's prick. Twice though, Chrissie woke up first. Luckily, when she woke up, she turned over, pulling my prick out of her before she was fully awake to what was happening. I shudder to think what might have happened if she had come fully awake with my fat prick still up inside her. Oh well, it didn't, so why worry now? Chrissie never seemed to notice until AFTER I had pulled out that she was full of cum, and then she always seemed embarrassed that I might find out that she had another "wet-dream". Ha! Well, you know it didn't last forever like that. In fact, it's amazing that it lasted for the week-and-a-half that it did. The end was precipitated when my parents got up one night and didn't find Chrissie in her bedroom. So they went looking for her. "Oh. There she is. Look, Marsha, she's in here with Billy." My father's words woke me from my half-doze, where I lay with my half-hard prick still leaking cum in my little sister's tight little hole. Oh shit! I was dead! When my parents saw me sleeping with Chrissie, they would just have to know I was fucking her. I didn't even dare pull out, as the movement would have made our sexual-joining that much more obvious. I lay there sweating, as I tried to pretend that Chrissie and I were just lying there, innocently sleeping together like two kids who didn't even know there was such a thing as sex. Chrissie just slept, making her job easy. I lay snuggled up to her as close as I could, so our parents wouldn't be able to see that my prick was inside my little sister, unless they already knew it. This forced the last two inches of my prick into my little sister's tight little snatch, bringing a murmur of satisfaction from her as she snuggled back in her sleep. Once again, my prick was buried to the balls in my little sister's vagina. Oooh, did that feel good. A squirt of pre-cum leaked out as I tried to remain still. It was incredibly hard not to thrust in and out, as Chrissie's vagina rippled and milked on my invading prick. I guess she was having sexy dreams, just like I had been. Well, I'm not completely sure how well it worked, but Mom didn't come into the room screaming when she saw my little sister sleeping peacefully next to me. In fact, she seemed to be amused. "Oh, isn't that cute," she said. "Chrissie's getting to be quite a sexy young girl." Oh shit! Suddenly, I was sweating like heck, all over again. "Uhuh," said Dad. "If it wasn't her big brother she was sleeping with, we might have to take precautions." "I suppose," said Mom. "One of these days, when Chrissie starts having boyfriends, we're going to have to get her started on some kind of birth-control." My hair stood on end. Up to then, I hadn't even thought about the possibility of getting my little sister pregnant. And the little girl was sleeping at that moment, with a big helping of my sperm soaking into her vagina, right up next to her (possibly) fertile young womb. I wondered if Chrissie had started menstruating yet. I was so scared at the prospect, that I almost missed my father's answer. Chrissie's tight little tube squeezing on my prick did little for my composure either. If I wasn't careful, I was going to ejaculate yet another helping of my seed in the child's womb, and this time I wouldn't have ignorance of the fact that she might get pregnant, as an excuse. "Well," said Dad, "there's one way we might rig it, so we don't have to worry about one of her boyfriends knocking Chrissie up, without putting her on the pill." I listened with all my might. If there was a way out of this mess, then I wanted to hear it. How could Chrissie be safe, if she was fucking someone, and not using birth-control? Right then, I had a very personal interest! Even straining to hear, I missed it. Dad must have whispered in Mom's ear. "You're kidding!" she said. I could hear the amusement in her voice, so it must have been pretty funny. "Well," said my father, in a more normal tone, "Chrissie can't very well get pregnant, if she's already pregnant by her own big brother, now can she?" "You're incorrigible!" said Mom, but I could hear the laughter in her voice. "No, just horny from seeing my little girl sleeping in the same bed with her big brother."Who knows, maybe Chrissie is already carrying Billy's baby in her sexy little tummy. Wouldn't that be a kick? "You don't really mean that, do you?" "Well, I know if I was Billy in that bed with a sexy little sister like Chrissie there, I wouldn't be wasting my time sleeping! I'd be filling the little girl's cute little tummy so full of baby-juice, she'd be having triplets before she gets out of the fifth grade. Besides, wouldn't that solve the problem of us having to worry about Chrissie getting knocked-up by some kid she hardly knows?" The light dimmed as the door closed, and my parents backed down the hall. "I guess it would, but what a solution!" Mom's voice was fainter now. I could barely make out Dad's, "Maybe. But I can tell you like the idea. See? You'd like to see Chrissie's cute little belly swelling, just as much as I would." There was a squeal from my mother, and then their door closed with a click and I couldn't hear any more. I wasn't listening anyway. I knew enough. Just knowing that my parents wanted me to get my little sister pregnant was too much for my overstimulated prick. My cock swelled up like a balloon, until it felt two-inches in diameter, and sent another surge of life-giving sperm squirting into my little sister's womb. This time, I didn't try to hold back. Pushing in as hard as I could, I sent bolt after thick creamy bolt of baby-making cum as far up inside my little sister's belly as I could. It was only when I was slowing down, and the last little trickle of cum was dribbling out of my half-hard prick, that I realized my frantic thrusting had finally woke my little sister up. Oh shit! Maybe Mom and Dad wouldn't be mad if I got Chrissie pregnant, but then they were assuming that the little girl would know what was happening when I did. If my parents found out that I had effectively raped their little girl, by fucking her while she was asleep, and couldn't even object... I was dead. Our parents love both of us, but Dad especially loves his little girl. When he found out I had raped her... I couldn't bear to think of what might happen. Whatever punishment I thought up, Dad's would be worse. Of course, worse than that, would be the shame I would have to carry the rest of my life. I would never live it down. I waited, miserably, for Chrissie to start yelling and screaming. "Mmm," said Chrissie, sleepily. "Billy?" "Uhuh?" I didn't dare say more, or even move. My prick was still half-in and half-out of Chrissie's sucking little vagina, though by now it was limp as a noodle. If I pulled out though, there would probably be a flood of cum all over the bed; not only making a mess, but drawing attention to the very fact that I had not only fucked my little sister, but I had ejaculated my incestuous sperm inside her as well; possibly even getting her pregnant. I was caught, either way. "Billy," repeated Chrissie, "are you fucking me?" "Uhuh," I replied again; waiting for the screams and accusations to start. "Oh," murmured Chrissie sleepily, "that's what I thought." Then my sexy little sister snuggled her cute little butt back into my stomach, and went back to sleep.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/Book_Shelf_S/Sleeping Little Sister (inc).txt
52,265	Isa	Strange Night	You are so soft and gentle, my sweet princess. I will never let anyone hurt you, and you couldn't ever hurt me, even though I would so much like you to do that sometimes. I had begged you to show your strength. I know it is there, deep inside you, in those tender hands of yours, which touch me so softly and carefully, every time like it was their first time. But that evening was different. I was sitting in our kitchen, eating chocolate ice cream, when you came in, slammed the door behind you, entered the kitchen, and then I knew: that strange look in your eyes - I had hoped to see that for so long, was it what I thought? You were in a strange mood: you laughed and were much more relaxed than usual. Carelessly, you threw your shirt away, squeezed your round breasts with your arms, and brought them close to me. You grabbed some of the ice cream from my bowl with your fingers, spread that onto your nipples which erected in a second, giggled, and brought them close to me so that I could suck the melted ice cream off. I decided to bite them tenderly, and soon noticed that this strange mood of yours had already made me so wet. You said you wanted the game to be yours tonight; I promised you anything. I could feel the tension in every muscle of your sweet body, this was so new and exciting for both of us. So firmly you took my clothes off, I was almost scared for a moment. You had refused to even touch my nipple ring before, and now you were pulling it so hard with your teeth. You were naked in front of me, I touched your clit and felt the lust throbbing, smelled the lust coming down your thighs. You told me to stand still against the kitchen sink, brought the leather harness, laughed, but didn't put it on. Then I knew this would be the fuck of my life, the answer to my prayers. I spread my arms and legs, waited... oh, baby, quickly... - ...the first crack was careful, the second and third so firm, you continued, and the slapping sound got me wild.... You masturbated there in front of me, the wild look in your eyes licked my burning body, which stood there against the cold kitchen sink. All of a sudden you stopped and sighed, gave me the harness. You wanted the game to be mine from now on. I couldn't resist. I took your favorite cock, tightened the straps calmly, and knew we couldn't wait longer. I asked you to come on me, opened your legs and tasted some of your hot lust, watched when you put the cock inside the throbbing, wet sweetness and sighed. You began dancing on my still burning body until I came, then you came loudly and your body shaked on mine. We never discussed what happened that night, but I hope the magic remains in that tender body of my princess.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/Book_Shelf_S/Strange Night (MF, rom).txt
52,422	Anonymous	Island Girls	You always hear those stories about women who go away on vacation and behave totally outrageously, doing things they would never have considered if they were home in their own environment. I always thought those stories were so much bullshit. I mean, who completely changes for just a week just because they are on vacation. Well, I have to say I've been proved wrong. I'm still not sure if I changed, or if my real nature came out, but either way I came back from my recent trip with an amazing story to tell. My name is Michelle and my best friend is Dana. We live in New Jersey, just a half hour from the beach, which is great in the summer, but sucks in February. This year Dana and I resolved that we would not spend another winter waiting for the desolate beaches at the shore to defrost. We booked ourselves a week at one of those all-inclusive resorts in the islands. While our families and friends were freezing their butts off, we planned to be sitting on a beach in our bikinis, sipping margaritas. That meant staying in bikini shape all winter, but both Dana and I were good girls, not getting out of hand over the holidays. Not that either of us had that much to worry about. Of the two of us, I think Dana gets more attention, with her long reddish-blond hair and cupie doll face. She never leaves the house without makeup, and when we do go out at night, she dresses to show off her assets. Being 5'8", Dana has great legs, and on her slender body, her 34C's look much larger than they are. Of course, sometimes they have help from Victoria's Secret. I, on the other hand, need no help in that department. I am not tall at all, only 5'3", but my legs are long for my height, and I have full 36D breasts. I'm more compact than Dana, but I can still wear a bikini with no shame. My blond hair falls a couple inches past my shoulders, but not being the glamour queen Dana is, I wear it in a ponytail as often as not. I'm not nearly the tease Dana is, but I still like the attention that I get. But don't get me wrong. Dana and I aren't tramps, we'll tease, but that's all. And being single girls in our late twenties, I don't see anything wrong with that at all! So on a chilly, gloomy day, we took off from Newark Airport, and just a couple hours later, we were deplaning in our island paradise. We were drinking a lot on our flight down, and both Dana and I were a little wobbly on our feet. It was a short ferry ride to our resort, and there we were. The room wasn't much more than your standard motel room, but that was okay, Dana and I didn't plan on spending much time in it. In fact, the only things we unpacked when we arrived were our swimsuits and tanning supplies. After changing, we headed down to the pool. It was kind of late in the afternoon, and we thought staying by the pool would be better than going to the beach that day. Besides, the bar was closer to the pool than it was to the beach, and neither of us were ready to stop partying. The only decision we had to make was what we wanted to drink and which pool to go to. You see, on the island, there were two sides, a "prude" side and a bare side. I was very curious to check out the bare side, but I was not feeling quite that adventurous on my first day down there, so we stayed on the prude side. I slathered myself with lotion, not wanting to get burned on my first day down there, but Dana is one of those rare redheads who doesn't burn easily, and she went right to work on her tan. We were both totally bushed by the time we stumbled back to our room and passed out on our beds. It was late when we woke up, but fortunately the island never closed, so after we showered, we headed out for a bite. Most of the people we ran into were our age or older, and everyone seemed out to have a great time. Several guys came onto us. Dana and I danced a bit. And when we went back to our rooms alone, we slept like rocks. The next day was just as beautiful as the first, and Dana and I tried to get up as early as we could, considering how late we'd been out last night. I wore my purple bikini that day, while Dana went with a white string number that barely covered her. I was almost jealous at some of the looks Dana was getting. We hit the bar for our first drinks of that day at 10 am and headed off to the beach when Dana suggested that we hit the nude side of the resort. I wasn't sure how I felt about that and told Dana so. "Come on, Michelle, don't be so uptight. It's not like anyone you know is going to see you, and even if you did run into someone, they'd be bare too," Dana argued. "I know, but I just don't think I'd be comfortable." "We'll go topless, and if you really hate it, we'll come back over here. Deal?" "Okay," I reluctantly agreed. There were plenty of people walking around just topless anyway, it wasn't like there was a clear demarcation point. Dana shed her top as casual as you please and tucked it into her bag. When she saw I wasn't moving, Dana reached behind me and undid my top herself. It took an effort not to cover myself as she pulled off my top and handed it to me. Although they are big, my breasts are very firm, and they swayed lightly as Dana and I walked toward the beach. I had seen my friend naked here and there, but this was really the first time I noticed what a great body she really had. Her firm breasts rode high on her chest, capped by large, pale nipples. Since I am used to guys staring at my chest while they talk to me and I am fully clothed, I expected everyone I encountered to just stare, but that wasn't the case. Sure, guys were checking us out, and I have to admit I found that to be a bit of a turn on, but the bartenders and everyone else just seemed not to notice. At first, I was staring, let me tell you, there are a lot of people who should just keep their clothes on, but after a while, I was comfortable and honestly just didn't notice anymore. After lunch, Dana and I didn't feel much like trekking back to the beach and opted for the pool instead. We noticed that just as many people were walking around topless on the prude side as weren't, so Dana and I shed our bikini tops once again. After all, we wouldn't want tan lines spoiling our outfits, would we? We were relaxing on floats in the pool when we heard someone calling our names. Dana saw them first, but then I recognized two of the guys from the night before as they jumped into the pool and swam toward us. Their names were Brett and something with an "S" I couldn't quite remember, Scott or Steve. They were good-looking guys, both about our age, tall, in good shape. I did remember that they were the nicer of the guys who'd tried to pick us up. They weren't overly pushy or anything, so Dana and I were happy to see our new friends. Our drinks were empty, and Brett offered to get us more, but Dana said she would take care of it. I think the guys were pretty shocked when she hopped off the raft without a thought to their seeing her topless. For a second, I thought both their tongues were going to drop from their mouths. Feeling left out, I turned on my side, propped up on an elbow. Mr. S gave me a long, hungry look that made me tingle in all the right places. Dana swam off to get our drinks, and Brett followed her. Meanwhile, Mr. S used his time wisely, trying to pick me up, and I have to say he was doing a pretty good job. I heard splashing from the far side of the giant pool, and I saw that Dana and Brett hadn't quite made it to the bar. They were engaged in a giggling, splashing wrestling match. Seeing as how they were both wet, they were having trouble grabbing each other, and their hands slid everywhere. Finally, Brett pinned Dana and pulled her to the side of the pool.They were looking at each other intensely for a second, and then they kissed, Dana sucking Brett's tongue into her mouth. She pulled away from the kiss and I couldn't tell from where I was, but it looked like she gasped. Then I noticed that both of Brett's hands were out of sight beneath the water. Dana had her arms around Brett's neck and was clinging to him. I noticed she started rocking in a gentle rhythm that picked up tempo as she went. I couldn't believe Dana was doing this right there in a public place! I didn't think she was fucking him, but his hands were definitely busy. Didn't that girl have any shame? Dana moved faster and faster until she clearly climaxed and sagged against Brett. They were kissing as I turned away. I knew I was red and that Mr. S knew why, because he'd been watching them right along with me. While I couldn't believe Dana had done that, another part of me admired her forwardness, and watching her with Brett had left me almost as aroused as I was embarrassed. That was clear by my breathing and how dark and stiff my nipples had become. Doubly embarrassed, I turned away from Mr. S, hoping he hadn't noticed. Fortunately, he didn't comment. Dana and Brett brought drinks back like nothing had happened, and the four of us made plans to meet up for dinner. As soon as Dana and I were back in our room, I gave her the third degree, and she told me that after all that groping in the pool, Brett had just pushed two fingers inside her, and she was so wet she didn't resist at all. Pretty ballsy guy, that Brett. Dana said he fingered her until she came, and that she came harder than she had in a long time. She didn't know if it was all those people around or what. I asked how she could do it, and Dana confessed that she'd been horny all day, and Brett had been just what she needed. Dana said that if I loosened up just a little bit, I might have as good a time as her. I listened to her and vowed to be a little freer when we went out that evening. Honestly, I was feeling just as horny as Dana, and I thought some fooling around might be just what the doctor ordered. While the guys had certainly enjoyed seeing us half-naked earlier, I almost think they liked us even better barely covered. The guys were definitely taking Dana and me in as we walked toward them. Dana was wearing a long, tight black skirt with a slit up the leg that each high enough to barely be considered decent. She contrasted it with a little white, equally tight tank top, and from the snug fit of her clothes, it was clear that was all she was wearing aside from her sandals. I was a little more modest, wearing a thin, short red cotton sundress. The guys showed us into the dining room. We had a wonderful seafood dinner and a bottle of wine before heading off to dance. Both Dana and I love to dance, and I think the guys had a little trouble keeping up with us. But that was okay, when the guys needed a break, Dana and I would just dance with each other. We played it up for Brett and Mr. S just enough to get their tongues wagging, and then we would pull them onto the dance floor and give them a good bump and grind. I found that Mr. S had a nice little bulge in his khaki shorts that only seemed to grow the more I teased him. Between the wine and the music and the hot tropical air, I was going much farther in teasing him than I ordinarily would have. I even reached between us a couple times to rub that yummy bulge of his. Meanwhile, I saw Brett slipping his hand into the slit on Dana's skirt every chance he could. Seeing it made me kind of hot too, but I wouldn't let Mr. S get too far before shutting him down. His hand brushed my breast, but when he tried to palm it, I pushed his hand away. I didn't want that in front of everyone. Dana said that she and Brett were going to go for a walk on the beach and asked if Mr. S and I wanted to go too. I was surprised, I thought she would want to be alone with him. Before I could say anything, Mr. S said yes for the both of us, and with drinks in hand, we headed off to the beach. It was a beautiful night, and the moon was bright enough that we could all see each other clearly. Dana and Brett had their arms around each other, and Mr. S held my hand. We found our way to a small cove that was secluded from the rest of the beach by a screen of heavily bushes and trees. Dana and Brett started fooling around again, Brett chasing her down to the water while she splashed at him. Meanwhile, Mr. S found a little shack that rented mats during the day. It was unlocked, and he got one for us to sit on. Mr. S and I sat on the mat, watching Dana and Brett frolicking in the surf. He was sitting very close, then he put his arm around me, and then he kissed me. His lips felt good on mine, and I went with it. I melted into his arms and felt my own heart beating faster as his hands roamed over my body. Mr. S. rested his hand on my thigh, but when he tried to move it beneath my dress, I closed my legs. Wasn't sure I wanted him going that far yet. Dana and Brett came running up from the water, both wet, and plopped down onto the pad beside us. The pad wasn't that big, and we could feel them brushing against us as they rolled around. Mr. S was nibbling on my neck, which always makes me tingle in all the right places, while he gently massaged my breast through my dress, bringing my nipple to diamond hardness through the fabric. I moaned quietly and clutched him to me. My head was tilted back, and I was deeply into enjoying Mr. S's attentions. For my part, I found that his breath got really husky when I bit his earlobes, so I kept nibbling there while I teasingly rested my hand on his thigh. I knew he was just dying for me to move it up, but I wasn't in any hurry. Dana and Brett bumped into us again, and I opened my eyes, looking over Mr. S's shoulder at them. Brett had his hand way up the slit in Dana's skirt, and the top of her tank top pulled down. Her pale nipples were stiff in the cold night air, and Brett captured one in his mouth. Dana gasped loudly when he began sucking it. I never thought I would be the type to get turned on watching someone else; or maybe it was just the way Mr. S was touching me, but when he tugged on the zipper at the side of my sundress, I didn't make any attempt to stop him. Looping them in his fingers, Mr. S pulled the thin straps from my shoulders, and my dress fell to my waist. He seemed very impressed with the red lace strapless bra that strained to contain my breasts. He just stared for several seconds, then Mr. S cupped my breasts in both hands, firmly massaging them. When most guys handle my breasts, they just attack them, like they were testing melons for freshness. But Mr. S definitely knew what he was doing, gently massaging, then roughly squeezing, gauging my reactions, strumming my pulsing nipples with his thumbs all the while. My bared nipples ached to be touched and sucked on by Mr. S, so I reached back and unhooked my bra. My breasts lifted the bra from my body, and Mr. S tossed it aside, mashing my breasts in his hands while pinching my stubby nipples as they tried to escape between his fingers. Mr. S was nibbling my ear, then my neck, and then he was kissing his way across my heaving chest to my nipples. I wanted to grab him by the ears and drag him down, force him to suck on them, but I held back, just barely. I could hear Dana moaning, but I was too intent on what was happening to me to look over. Mr. S flicked his tongue over my nipple, and I quivered, whimpering slightly. "What's my name?" He whispered devilishly. "Wha-" I murmured. What was he doing? This was no time for small talk. He licked my nipple teasingly again. My pussy was soaking into my panties. "I asked you my name?" Mr. S said, followed by a prolonged licking and sucking that made my toes curl. "Why?" I gasped as he flicked his tongue at my nipple again and again. Thankfully, he let me off the hook. "It's Scott, I knew you didn't know it. You haven't called me by name all night. Now I'm going to have to make you scream it so you don't forget ever again." I'm not a screamer, so Scott was in for a challenge, but I hoped he was up for it. I was growing so horny that I barely cared anymore that Dana and Brett were less than two feet away. They could do whatever they wanted, I just wanted to get mine. I clawed at Scott's back, pulling his shirt over his head, then I pushed him down onto the mat on his back. I wanted him so hard he wouldn't be able to keep teasing the way he was. And I figured the best way to do that was to turn the tables and do some teasing of my own. I was straddling Scott, grinding my pussy down into his bulge, and I felt him grinding back. I leaned over to kiss him, dragging my tingling nipples across his hairy chest. I pulled my lips from his, then dangled each of my nipples for Scott to suck, reluctantly tearing them from his mouth as I pulled back to kiss and lick at his nipples. Scott growled, "Michelle," and twined his fingers in my hair, holding me there as I bit his nipple harder. I love it when a man holds me there, when he knows what he wants and isn't afraid to show me. But I was teasing, so I pulled from his grip and moved down, looking up at him as I kissed his tummy and worked on his pants. "Uhhhh God, Dana..." I heard Brett gasp, and I couldn't help but look over. He was on his back while Dana knelt between his legs, vigorously slurping his cock up. It looked like Brett had a nice sized one, but Dana wasn't having any trouble sucking his whole cock down her throat. She's bragged before about how she could get, and keep, any guy's undivided attention that way, but this was the first time I'd ever seen her do it. I have to say, I was impressed with the way she attacked Brett. It was a prelude to what Scott was about to experience, and I hoped I did as well.I pulled Scott's pants off, and then, while I was on my knees above him, I seductively stripped my dress off, leaving me nude except for my panties. I caught Dana peeking over, and I think she was shocked to see how forward I was being, but probably also happy. While I knelt there, Scott stared at me and then started touching me, first pulling on my nipples, then rubbing the wet spot on my panties. I arched my back slightly, thrusting at his hand. I remembered I was supposed to be the one teasing, but I guess I am not very good at it. I pulled back, taking Scott's cock in my hands. He was standing at full attention and was quite a handful. His shaft felt so warm in my hands and seemed to grow even bigger as I stroked it. I massaged his balls, and Scott's shaft jerked in my hands. I gave him a couple of long licks, all the way up to the head, and Scott was shaking like he was going to explode. Good, that was just the way I wanted him. I licked his shaft until it was nice and wet, and I could give the shaft a nice hand job while I sucked nice and hard on the head. Again, Scott twined his fingers in my hair, urging me down on his shaft. I made it about halfway down, but I have never been able to deep throat. But I think I make up for that with what I do take. I sucked Scott nice and hard, moving my tongue all around the shaft while I pumped the part I couldn't fit with a tight fist. Scott was moaning and groaning, and I knew I was really having an effect. Having such control over him was making me so wet. My pussy was dripping at the thought of how Scott would feel inside me. I am not usually into just letting some guy I barely know fuck me, but I was ready to bend the rules for Scott that night. I was pumping Scott faster, sucking him harder, and he was actually growling, growling I couldn't believe it, and I felt him tensing up. I realized what was about to happen. I'd gone too far. I started to pull away, but before I could get free, Scott exploded, blasting his load into my mouth. I don't mind swallowing; I think spitting is kind of rude anyway, it's just I wasn't done with him yet, that's all. I swallowed all I could, but Scott came like a fire hose, and a little bit dribbled from my lips down his shaft. Adding to the tease show, I let his cock slip from my lips and licked up the bit that had gotten away. "You are so hot, Michelle," Scott breathed. I hoped he didn't think that was it for the night. I needed to get off too. I slipped my panties down and slithered my way up his body until my pussy was positioned right above his mouth. His tongue stabbed upward, found my clit, and I shivered. I peeled my sticky lips apart for him, and Scott held my hips as he drew me closer. His lips sucked at mine, and I bucked my hips forward, running my fingers through his hair with one hand while the other kept my cunt spread. God, did that boy know what he was doing! My juices were running down all over his face. He trapped my clit and sucked it hard, abrading it with his teeth, and I thought I was going to pass out. I was grinding down so hard I thought I was going to suffocate Scott, but he just kept sucking, and soon the stars pinpricking the night sky exploded in bright light as I came. Normally I do not cum more than once, but Scott did not stop licking me, and I fell forward, my hands digging into the sand as I humped at Scott's mouth. I came again, and while I was able to moan quietly last time, this felt so good I was crying out Scott's name, all decorum lost. I was covered in a fine sheen of sweat and still trembling when Scott pulled me back up. Loose-limbed, I was pretty much a rag doll for him to position, and after the way he'd just made me cum, I would have let him do whatever he wanted. He dragged my wet pussy across his torso and down so that it brushed against his cock. Scott was hard again, and my pussy tingled at the thought of being filled by him. I got a foot beneath myself and lifted up, stretching my pussy open while Scott brushed my lips with his head. Mmm, it felt very nice. It had been months since I'd had any sex at all, and I was more than ready for it. With a hand on my hip, Scott guided me down so he was completely inside me. I let out a sweet groan that grew louder with every delicious inch I took. I could feel him stretching me, feel his shaft pulsing inside my tight cunt. The base of his cock rested against my clit, and I ground into Scott, falling forward, letting him catch me by my breasts, which he mashed in his strong hands. I threw my head back and cried out, "Oh Scott..." I tossed my head to the side and was afforded an interesting view of Dana on her back, her tank top pushed down around her waist and her skirt hiked up, on her back, with one leg hooked around Brett. Brett was on top of her, naked, and thrusting into her cunt for all he was worth. Sweat dripped off of Brett, and he had his teeth gritted as he slammed down into Dana. Dana had a hand on the back of his neck and was clearly digging her nails into his neck. She seemed to be purring, but she was growing louder by the second and finally was shouting, "Fuckfuckfuckfuck!!!!! Fuck me, I'm gonna cum!!!" Brett didn't react; he just kept fucking her. Scott, meanwhile, was tired of the grind and grabbed my hips. With little trouble, he lifted me and fucked me up and down on his cock, leaving just the tip in me and then plunging me back onto him. I caught on quickly and, using my thigh muscles, worked myself up and down on him even harder. He kept pulling my nipples, which drove me nuts, and I reached down and rubbed my clit. I arched my back, and Scott filled me so deeply. Again, I was cumming while I screwed myself down onto him, shrieking, "God, Scott!!! Gooooooddddddddddd!!!!!!" I was no help at all as Scott pulled me off him and laid me on my back on the mat. He lifted my legs over his shoulder and plowed his cock into me full force. It he'd cum a little quickly the first time, he was holding out fine now. I spread my hands out to try and hold in place. One hand dug into the sand for purchase while my other touched hot, slick skin. I looked over and saw Dana on her back right next to me, Brett slamming her deep and hard just like Scott was doing to me. Our eyes met, and we shared a smile at our mutual ecstasy. Dana clasped my hand, and I held on tight as I built to yet another orgasm. I started getting the feeling the guys might have done this before when they started fucking Dana and I together, in a fast-paced rhythm. Dana and I even started moaning in rhythm. Somehow it got me even more turned on getting fucked right beside my best friend and sharing the experience with her. I was starting to wonder what else the night could have to offer. I was just about to cum again when Scott pulled out of me, and I thought I would scream. Of course, Brett was doing the exact same thing to Dana. Both Dana and I were up on all fours, and the guys started in on us again, slamming us from behind. God, Scott reached even deeper now, and I thrust back at him with abandon. I built up to my orgasm again even faster this time, but right as I was going to cum, Scott pulled out of me again. I moaned in protest and turned to say something when I caught the guys switching positions. I couldn't believe it! I would have said something to protest, but I was so horny and so shocked that before I could form a coherent sentence, Brett had slipped inside me, and he felt so damn good I couldn't do anything but moan, "Breeeetttt..." Although he didn't reach as deep, Brett was even thicker than Scott, and he stretched me to the max. When he rammed his cock into me, fireworks shot from my cunt throughout my body, and I came once again. I had never come so many times in one night in my life! And I knew I wasn't done yet! "Damn, Scott, you feel so good, fuck me," Dana begged, and I knew exactly what she was feeling because I was feeling the same thing myself only seconds ago. Brett's fingers dug into my ass; he felt so forceful as he fucked me harder, Scott matching his every stroke into Dana. I loved it all! Dana and I were eye to eye again, and I was a little surprised by the animal hunger I saw there. We were so close. If that surprised me, I was totally shocked when Dana leaned over and kissed me. There was nothing gentle about it. She locked her mouth on mine and thrust her tongue between my lips. I could claim it was the shock, but really her kiss felt great, and I responded with enthusiasm. I felt Dana's hand stroking my back, and then I felt her reach down and cup my dangling breast. When she played with my nipple, I moaned into her mouth. I think this was more than the guys could hope for, and Brett just couldn't hold out watching Dana and I kiss and feeling my pussy constricting his cock. He gave one last powerful thrust, and I felt him blasting his cum deep inside me. I kept screwing my pussy onto Brett, trying to get every last bit I could until he finally slipped out of me. I was a woman possessed now. Dana's kiss had electrified me. Scott was still going, but I imagined I could get him off just like his friend. I kissed Dana again, moving under her, teasing her small breasts. As our lips broke, she breathed my name, and I went lower, sucking each of her big nipples. She moaned, and I could feel her pushing her breasts at my mouth. I reached down to Dana's pussy and rubbed her clit just above where Scott was pounding into her. I was tempted to kiss her there too, but I was a little too afraid to go that far. Instead, I just rubbed her and caressed Scott's balls. "Michelle, I can't believe it, you're incredible, baby. Both of you," Scott cried, and I felt his balls draw up as he shot his load into Dana. I kept rubbing her clit and sucking on her nipples, and Dana came right with Scott, nearly falling on top of me.As soon as Scott pulled out of Dana, my best friend took me in her arms, kissing me and rubbing her breasts against mine. She was not shy at all about what she wanted to do to me. First, she kissed my breasts, and her lips felt so wonderful on my nipples, so different from when a man kisses me. Then, she effortlessly moved down, spread my legs, and kissed my thighs. I could barely hold still with the anticipation building in me as Dana kissed her way toward my pussy. I arched my back and cried out when Dana kissed my pussy. Her tongue dipped inside me, sought out my clit, and teased it. I could feel her sucking Brett's cum from my pussy, and Dana drank deeply of our mingled juices. I held my pussy open for her, like I had for Scott, and Dana used her free hands to tease my nipples. Dana's sucking mouth had me on the edge in minutes, and before I knew it, I was cumming again, feeling her mouth while she eagerly lapped it all up. I still wasn't ready to go down on Dana, but she didn't pressure me at all, just held me and kissed me, and I could taste myself on her. The guys were turned on again by our little show, but I was a bit too sore to get another sound fucking, so I crawled over to Scott and sucked him into my mouth. I could taste Dana's pussy on his cock, mixed with mine, and I found that I did like the taste. But this time, I was the teaser, and I left Scott, crawling over to Brett. He was more than happy to let me take his cock in my mouth. I sucked him until he was fucking my mouth, and then went back to Scott. Dana, meanwhile, was enjoying my little slut show, touching herself. I don't think she was nearly as worn out as I was, and I was proved right when she pushed Scott down and mounted his cock. While Dana rode Scott, I knelt in front of Brett and sucked him off right next to them. It was hard to stretch my lips around Brett's girth, but I managed and was rewarded with a mouthful of thick, hot cum. Dana and Scott both came right about the same time, and we all collapsed. We actually fell asleep on that mat and awoke to the sunrise, a tangle of naked limbs. When someone walked by, Dana was able to straighten her outfit, but I was very embarrassed to be completely nude. Especially since it was obvious what had gone on the night before. I slipped right back into my dress. Dana and I said goodbye to the guys and went back to our room. We kind of avoided them for the rest of the time. We weren't really ashamed of what we did. We both really enjoyed it, but we had to wonder what the guys thought of us. We thought it was better not to find out. I returned from the islands totally refreshed and dying to go back. Dana and I planned a trip for the coming summer. I returned to my regular self when we got back. Dana and I didn't talk about what happened between us, and it never happened again. I guess it is true what they say. I didn't believe it until it happened to me, but I went to the islands and became a person I didn't recognize. I can't wait for it to happen again!	M+F+, orgy	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/Book_Shelf_I/Island Girls (M+F+, orgy).txt
52,514	Realoldbill (address withheld)	Susie Gets It	Young Susie Jamison's eyes were closed, and her chin was raised so that the streaming spray from the shower hit her in the face and ran off her short blonde hair. The gumdrop nipples on her luscious young breasts were raised and hard as gravel, and her right hand, with the small cake of soap still in it, was buried between her long legs, rubbing up and down her seething slit, her thumb nudging the fold over her tiny clit. She knew she was close and trembled, needing release. Her left hand was on the wall, supporting her as she ducked her head, leaned forward, and neared her climax, the tiny clit now fully erect and free of its hood. "Oh Gene, Gene, Gene," the girl sobbed, just as the glass shower door opened, and her naked brother stepped in beside her, his huge cock standing up well above the horizontal and a grin on his handsome face. Susie turned, squealed, and threw the soap at him. "What are you doing?" she gasped as her brother smiled at her and took in all of her slim teenage body. His thick cock surged and got even harder, rising to point at the ceiling. At sixteen, he was two years older and nearly fifty pounds heavier than his super-cute sister, and until recently had been deeply and hotly involved with a beautiful girl called Nancy who fucked like a minx, demanded he use condoms, and spent all his money. She had dumped him for a college boy with a new Corvette. Now he bent, picked up the soap, and began to lather his sister's boobs with both hands, admiring the light freckles scattered across her cheeks and pug nose as his raging prick slid up between her buttocks and began moving up and down her ass. "Get out," she yelled at him. "Are you crazy?" "Mom's not home," he said gently as he pinched her pink nipples and twisted them back and forth. Her breasts were small but wonderfully round and firm. "Don't you want to have some fun?" He bent and licked one, tasting soap. He bent his knees, and his blunt cockhead bumped his sister's legs and then jutted out between them, the thick shaft rubbing her whole pudenda. Susie was cute, everybody said so, and while she wasn't as voluptuous or lovely as his former girlfriend, she was certainly on the way to becoming a fox with her developing rack, her trim waist, and her well-rounded ass. Billy had long admired the puff of his sister's tiny belly and longed to see and taste what lay below it. "No, no, you pervert. Take that ugly thing and get out of here." Susie squirmed away and then beat on her brother's muscular chest with her small fists, and he pulled the girl to him so that his huge cock was mashed between them, its head almost into her cleavage. Susie felt as if the thick rod were burning her and shuddered in fear and anger, sobbing, her vagina pulsing and quivering. She could not believe how big and hard it was. "Who's this Gene?" he asked with a smile, enjoying the feel of her warm and wet flesh on his hard and overheated cock. He grabbed her buttocks with both hands and squeezed. She gasped as his prick slid along her labia and nudged her clit. "Nobody," she said, wiggling, "let me go." "Put your hands on the wall," he said, turning her to face the pouring showerhead. "No, no," she squealed, aware of the size, shape, and arousal of her brother's eight-inch ram. "I'm a virgin, Billy. Please don't." It looked as thick as the handle of her tennis racket. The boy lathered his hard prong and then slid it gently into his sister's anus. He held her slim hips, gritted his teeth, and slowly inched himself fully up into her as her ring muscles relaxed, and she arched her back, came up on her toes, and let her head hang between her elbows as her sphincter yielded fully, and he penetrated steadily. Susie whimpered, feeling violated. It hurt as she was stretched and violated. "Ready?" said her brother, smacking her buttocks loudly as he pulled back. She shook her head. He slipped his left hand up to cup her perfect little breast and held his right hand down her firm belly and into her groin, and then he began to ass-fuck her with long, practiced strokes, half-foot rams that lifted her up on her toes. Billy thought of all the women he had served in the past year, all the grass widows, but he could not recall an ass as tight and exciting as his fourteen-year-old sister's butt. He found her clit and teased it while held her engorged tit to a hard stream of shower water and pumped and pumped, deeper and deeper, teeth clenched, back arched, in to the balls. Susie sobbed and grunted, feeling angry and violated with her brother's swollen scrotum smacking against her vulva and his fingers exciting her clit. She found herself making small animal noises and felt an unwanted orgasm begin to sweep over her. She gasped and cried out, head up and mouth open for the water to pour in, and her brother kept right on abusing her until he ejaculated with a series of shudders and a squeal of pleasure. By then, the girl was down on the floor of the shower on hands and knees, and her rutting brother was crouched above her buttocks, still thrusting hard as he emptied himself in his sister's rectum, his knees bent and eyes closed. Billy pulled his cock out, washed it carefully for it was sore and sensitive, and then left his sister on the shower floor, sobbing and gagging. He dried himself, stroked his ram hard again with the rough towel, and when Susie stepped from the shower, he wrapped her in a big, fluffy towel and walked her back to her bedroom, telling her what a good girl she was and how much he had needed what she let him do. "Bastard, bastard," Susie sobbed. "I don't blame Nancy for dumping you. How could you do that to me?" She fell face down on her bed, sobbing. Billy dried her as best he could, rolled her over, and dried her some more, and then lifted her coltish legs up on his broad shoulders and set the blunt head of his proud tool at the entrance of his sister's tight-lipped vagina. He stroked his hardening rod until it jerked eagerly. Susie looked down between her mounded young breasts and saw the huge, heavily veined rod jutting from her brother's hairy groin and poised to rip her apart. Since he was much stronger, she couldn't think of any way to stop him and took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Then the idea came. "I'll tell, Billy, I swear I will. Don't do it." "Please, please, baby. It will make you feel so good." "No, no, you're much too big. Don't, don't." She could feel the head of his ram beginning to spread open her inner lips. He was at least an inch into her. The thing was monstrous; it would never fit. Susie squirmed and kicked, but her brother held her hips and rammed himself forward with a groan as she rolled to her side, and his rigid ram popped out and jumped up to smack his belly. Susie got her feet on his chest and neck and pushed, scrambling away, but her brother caught her by a foot and pulled her back up on the bed. He dragged a pillow down under her hips and spread her legs on his forearms, grasping his hot cock and pushing its head into his sister's pink passage, determined to have her, to satisfy his aching. "I'll suck it, I'll suck it," Susie yelled at him. "Don't pop my cherry. Please, please, Billy, don't! Don't!" Having harvested one maidenhead in his life, Billy was aware that he was pressing against his sister's hymen. He hesitated and looked down at her stricken face. She was so pretty, so sweet, and so young. Most of his sexual adventures had been with women in their thirties. Most of the pussies he had pleased had numerous visitors before he came on the scene to make the woman happy. He recalled the first day with Nancy, getting the rubbers, taking her cherry, and then fucking three more times before they called it quits. It was what he had thought of as the best day of his life. He wiggled his big cock out of his sister's tight grip and crawled up her lean body, dragging it between her round breasts to present its dripping head to her lips. Her tongue snaked out to take in the warm pre-cum oozing from his hard member, and then it was between her lips and in her mouth. "You've done this before," he said down at her as she began bobbing on his ram, circling its head with her tongue and making her work spit slick. Susie managed to smile despite having her jaws stretched by the size of her brother's penis. It was true, she had sucked several cocks this school year and even let Gene come in her mouth last weekend down in the Magruder's basement. But she had never had anything like her brother's huge phallus in her mouth. It was frightening, and it was exciting. She reached up and put a hand on it, feeling the iron below the smooth skin, the rod moving in and out. Billy remembered Mrs. McKee.The first person to ever give him a blowjob, and was surprised to find that his little sister was so good at it. She had managed to get fully half of his rod in her mouth and had only gagged twice when he pushed deeper. Now Billy wanted more as he felt her teeth rake his shaft. He pulled his hard prick from his sister's mouth with a loud plop and dragged the girl over to the edge of her bed, turned her on her back, and moved her so her head hung off the side. Then he crouched at the side of the bed, a smile on his face, said, "Open wide," and eased his cock right down his sister's throat.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/73/susiegetsit.txt
52,726	Canyonero	The Data Entry Opening	Yes, I know she's only eighteen. Yes, I know I'm forty-two. When I first saw her that September afternoon when she applied for the part-time data entry job at my manufacturing company, I had to hire her. Yes, I know other applicants had better qualifications. Yes, I know I was thinking with another head. ...But it's just a data-entry job after all. I was talking to my secretary, Susan. Susan is 47 and has been with the company almost the full fifteen years we'd been in existence. That was when Hannah walked in. She was tall and striking. Most of all, she was a redhead. There is something about redheads that just drive me wild. Especially attractive redheads. There's something completely intangible that just strikes me against my head and says, "Look!" "Hello," Hannah said to Susan. "I'd like to apply for the job opening." She wore nice blue jeans and a light pink blouse. I still remember intensely what she wore that first moment I saw her. If her intention was to look dressed up and yet casual at the same time, it worked. I noticed the resume in Hannah's hand was pretty sparse. Of course, how much experience can an eighteen-year-old really have? I was mildly impressed that she thought to have a resume. "We'll call for an interview in the next couple of days if we're interested in you," said Susan. "Thank you," said Hannah very politely and turned and started to walk away. Damn! The curves of her butt filled her jeans mighty nicely. Her red hair lay loosely on her back and just below her shoulders. My dick twitched. It was definitely her butt that caused that. I momentarily fantasized about entering her pussy from behind. "Miss...?" I called out. She stopped and turned and looked at me. "I'm John Summers, the owner. If you have a moment, I'd like to go ahead and interview you now." "Sure!" said Hannah with a big beautiful smile forming on her face. She was truly gorgeous. I twitched again. "What about...?" said Susan as she pointed to a couple of sheets of paper on her desk. I knew that this was something that needed to be taken care of just as Susan knew it. I'd work late today, I quickly decided. "I'll take care of it," I told Susan. Susan looked at me and then the girl. "In here," I told Hannah as I went into my office. "Go ahead and close the door." I sat in my chair. Hannah sat in one of the two chairs in front of my desk. She chose the one on the right. The left chair was partially blocked by the computer monitor on the left side of my desk. She sat quietly as I scanned her resume. Hannah Brock. Very respectable high school GPA, sales clerk for The Wap, before that worked at Super Pizza. Going to school at State University, business major. I looked up from the paper. "So Hannah, what is your major?" "I'm a business major, Mr. Summers. I'm undecided whether I want to be in the financial market or if I want to be running a company. I want to know the ins and outs of business." I thought she handled the question very well. She knew I knew the answer to my question. "Have you done data entry before?" "No, but I know how to work a computer." "How fast do you type?" "I don't know. I've never taken the test." "Mr. Summers...?" her voice broke in. "Uh..." I realized I was staring into her eyes and had gotten lost. "Uh...you can call me John. We're all on a first-name basis here." "Um..." "That will let me know if you'll fit in." "Okay...John," she said with hesitancy. I picked up a pen. I twiddled the pen back and forth with it held between my index finger and thumb. "Now, tell me about...oops!" The pen "accidentally" flew out of my fingers. It bounced on my desk and onto the floor in front of her. She bent over to retrieve it. I smiled as her blouse hung slightly open. I saw her cleavage. It looked like she had some decent-sized tits. I averted my eyes as she came back up. "Thank you, Hannah," I said as I took the pen from her. "You're welcome." I put the pen down. I looked into her eyes, smiled, and leaned back in my chair. "Tell me why I should consider giving you a job." "Well, Mr. Summers..." She paused when I wagged my finger. She began again. "John, I am a hard worker. I stick to my tasks and get them done. I am a fast learner and I think you'll find I can do a lot more than data entry." I tried not to go "there" in my thoughts after hearing her say "do...more", but I went "there". "I get along with everybody and I can work well in a team. You won't regret hiring me." Except for my constant case of blue balls, I didn't voice. "Sounds good," I said. "The job is 4 hours a day, 20 hours a week, Monday through Friday, from 4 PM to 8 PM. You'll also be expected to be receptionist from 4 to 6. Susan, our secretary, leaves at 4. We stop answering the main phone at 6." "I can do that," she replied. "Do you have any questions?" "The hours work great for me, Mis...John. Is there flexibility for when school semester terms happen?" "Yes. If you're a good worker, we'll want to keep you and we can work something out." "Good." "Oh...wages. It's just minimum wage." "That's okay. I just need money to put gas in my car, buy some food, and go out with friends. I decided to take a slightly improper vector in my interview. "So you're a freshman, Hannah?" "Yes," said Hannah. "John," She added. "You have an apartment?" "I'm in the dorm." "You have a boyfriend?" She hesitated at first. She didn't expect that question. "No." My heart warmed inside. I spoke something else. "Well, I'm sure the guys will be fighting to ask you out. You're very pretty." She slightly blushed and I could tell I made her feel awkward. "Thank you," she said with a little shyness. "Well, Hannah," I said as I stood up. "You are an impressive young woman. I was impressed on how well you remained calm when I asked you some personal questions. That shows you know that a business is like a family. You've already shown some trust. I'll decide on the job in the next day or two." She stood up. "Thank you for seeing me, John." I smiled. I waited two days before I had Susan call her and offer her the job. On Monday, I was distracted at work. I couldn't help thinking about Hannah. She was starting today. "Do you want me to stay late and help train her?" asked Susan. "That's okay. I'll do it." I didn't know how transparent my excitement was to Susan. I'd never been this way before. Maybe she plainly recognized a horny male in her presence. Four o'clock finally came. Susan ducked her head into my office. I usually keep the door open. "The new girl is here," she said. "I'm going home." "Thank you, Susan." She was so reliable. I sat patiently in my seat. I didn't want to be too eager. I heard a door close and I knew Susan was gone. Off the floor, hidden behind my desk, I picked up a vase filled with flowers and walked out. "Welcome, Hannah," I said holding the vase. She looked at the vase, then to me, and then back at the vase. "These flowers are just something for you to take home as a way of welcoming you to the company." She smiled. "Thank you." I put them on the desk. "Come," I said. She followed me down the hallway to a small office with two desks in it. "Hannah, this is Emily," I said introducing the 27-year-old blonde woman. "She is one of two accounting people here. She'll take care of payroll. Emily, this is Hannah. She just started. When, she's all done just send her back down to my office. "Sure, John," said Emily, smiling at Hannah. "Hello?" Hannah's voice came into my office twenty minutes later. "I can tell you right now you need to learn to use my name," I instructed with a smile in my voice. "Emily's all done, John." "Good. Can't have employees not getting paid. They don't seem to like that." She smiled. I liked that. I went back out to the front desk and pulled up a chair next to her and for the next thirty minutes, I walked her through the computer screens and showed her what to enter in the fields from the paper copies. These were updates of customer data or orders and other info. It wasn't a whole lot to do, but I was only paying minimum wage and there was filing to do and the ubiquitous "other duties as assigned". "If you get stuck or need help, don't be afraid to ask," I said as I got up and returned to my office. I had barely sat down when she needed help, but the interruptions became less and less frequent as she got the hang of the program. "Hello, VideoMax. This is Hannah." I heard her voice say after the phone rang. My phone rang. "A Mr. Thompson, from Thompson Screens for you, John," her lovely voice told me. Thompson sold aftermarket TV screens for automobiles. "Thank you, Hannah. Put him through.That evening, I tried hard not to think about Hannah too much and I was mostly successful. At least, I didn't hover at her desk. "Hello, John," Hannah greeted me on the next day when I returned to the office at 4:30. "Hello, Hannah, you're looking very lovely." She returned a shy smile to me. "Brenda Trevin would like you to call her." "Thank you." I went into my office to make the call. "Hello, I'm Mike," I later heard my plant manager introducing himself to Hannah. I couldn't make out much of the conversation. Just before 6:00, I came out. "How are things going?" "Okay, John," she replied. "I didn't realize I was working at dinner time. Yesterday, I was so nervous I didn't notice. Today, I'm hungry. Working only four hours, I don't think I get a meal break." "No, but I don't mind you eating at your desk if you work at the same time." A man walked into the office carrying a sack. "I'm looking for John Summers." "Here," I said. I pulled out a twenty from my wallet. "Keep the change." I took the sack. "Thank you!" the delivery man said with a big smile and then left. "Voila! I have dinner for us." "Oh, I couldn't." "I have too much food here." I could tell she was thinking about it. The Chinese food did smell good. I pulled up a chair and started taking the containers out of the bag. "Thank you," she finally said. "We're all here for each other." My mind screamed with excitement. I made small talk and asked her how school was going. It was only three weeks into the semester. "I quite enjoyed your companionship for dinner," I said. "I'd like to do it again tomorrow." "But..." I quickly interrupted. "If you're going to say something about money, don't. I have lots of money. I'm just paying you minimum wage. Consider it a perk." "Thank you," she said again in her polite manner. Over the next two weeks, I learned about her family and her likes and dislikes. She learned I was married once for only a year when I was twenty-one. "So what do you like about a guy?" I asked her. "He has to show he cares about me. Not just pretending he's listening to me, but shows it by doing things that show he listened. Someone who can make me smile and feel warm and comfortable about. Trust is important." "What to like about a girl?" she countered. "Well since I'm a guy, I think about physical attributes first, but I like a woman who'll be there for me even when I make mistakes. Someone who's willing to stay around if times become tough." "What do like physically?" she asked. "Well..." I was on the spot. "I like a woman who's in shape. She doesn't have to be a model or an athlete. She just shouldn't have let yourself go. I like women in lingerie. I like the peek-a-boo quality that lingerie provides. I like to think 'Did I see what I think I just saw?' One other thing that I have to confess..." I looked into her face to see her expression. She was intently listening. "One of the reasons I hired you is that you are a redhead. I like redheads a lot. Of course, these last two weeks I've discovered you are much more that just a redhead. You are a completely charming woman and you are a hard worker and I know I made the right choice in hiring you even if my reasoning was strange." I paused. "I hope I haven't offended you." I could tell she was a little surprised. She smiled. "Well I'm glad my red hair was good for something. It makes up some for being teased as a kid." She laughed. I released my breath. I just noticed I was holding it. I stood up. "Thank you, Hannah," I said and put out my arms for a hug. She was tentative at first but then embraced me. Damn! She felt good in my arms! On Monday, when Hannah got in I asked her if she could stay late for an hour. She said she could. At 5:00, I headed out to the parking lot and found her car, a ten year old Taurus. I put on some overalls and some goggles. I crawled under her car and opened the oil plug. The oil poured out all over the asphalt. I tightened the oil plug back up. I disposed of the goggles and overalls in the green dumpster. I kept back a few data entry forms and gave them to her at 8:00 and told her I needed these in today. She cheerfully obliged. At 8:40, she poked her head into my office. "They're all entered, John." "Thank you, Hannah." I picked up my coat. "Let's get out of here. It's late." "Sounds good," she replied. "Uh-oh!" I said as we walked up to her car. I bent down in front of it. "What?" she said with a little anxiety in her voice. "Looks like your engine lost all its oil. You can't drive it." "Oh, no! Are you sure?" "Yes." "Ohhhh! I can't afford to fix it or get a new car." "Hannah, let me drive you home. I'll pick you up tomorrow. I'll check your car out in the daylight. It might be a simple problem." "Okay," she said. I could see the worry on her face. "I'll take care of you," I assured her. I drove her in my Lexus to the school. When we stopped in front of her dorm building, I leaned over and kissed her softly on the cheek. "See you tomorrow. I'll pick you up. Don't worry about the car. I'll take care of it." Hannah's hand touched the cheek I kissed. She got out of the car and looked back at me. Her hand was still on her cheek. I waved and drove off. In my rearview mirror, I saw a small return wave. "Good news, Hannah!" I exuberantly said when I picked her up. I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek again. Her hand went up to her cheek again. "The oil plug on your car just fell out. I put it back in. I made sure it won't fall out again. I went ahead and put oil back into the car." "Oh, wonderful," said Hannah with excitement. "Thank you." She looked relieved. "No charge," I quickly added. "It cost nothing." I pulled into my reserved spot. We went over to her car and I had her start it up. It roared to life. After all, I only gave it an oil change. "Thank you, thank you," she said happily and bounced out of the car. She hugged me. I wrapped my arms around her and held her tight. Finally we began to separate. "Your welcome." I kissed her softly on the nose. She became bashful and nervous again. "We better get into work. I know that boss of yours can be a real asshole if you're not in on time." She laughed at my joke. The joke broke the sudden awkward tension. For the next couple of weeks, I kissed her on the cheek to and say "Thank you" for basically her just doing her job. I noticed she became more relaxed about it. One evening as I left her desk and walked back into my office I sighed, "I wish she'd show a little bit more cleavage." I turned and she was right behind me. "Uh...John?" she said, "Mike called. He won't be in tomorrow. Car problems." "Uh...thank you, Hannah." My mind raced. Did I mutter that under my breath? Did she hear it? My stomach did flips. "Did he check his oil?" I quickly said with a joke attempt. She didn't smile. She turned and went back to her desk. The phone rang. "Emily?" I heard her say "I'll transfer you." I sat at my desk. I could feel sweat trickle down my body. My mind was in a blur. Before I knew it she was standing in front of my desk. Her purse was in her hand. "I'm going now," she said. "Have a good night," I replied. I looked down and tried to look busy. "You need to thank me?" "Huh?" I looked up at her. "Alison is teaching me the accounts payable system, since she's been working a little late this week." Alison worked with Emily. "Here's a check from Bradley Electronics." She put it on my desk. Bradley was a company that was behind in payments. I picked it up. The check was for at least half of what they owed us. It was a very good start. "I called them and pretended to be a lawyer." "Hannah!" I said, my voice getting animated. "You can't do that. We'll get in trouble." "But I got the check..." she protested. "I'm glad," I said, "just don't pretend to be a lawyer again. Okay?" "Okay." Hannah left and so I averted a future lawsuit against my company. I often didn't come out to see Hannah until after five. It wasn't until after five that the business day started to wind down. The next day, it was Hannah who came into my office for our first contact of the day. She came into my office just before five. My mouth slightly gaped. She wore a scoop-neck shirt. "John...?" she said. I heard something girlish in the way she said my name. "Oops." It almost felt like it was in slow motion. I can so clearly recall this event in my head. I watched as the pen slipped from her hand and fell to the floor. She bent forward at the waist. Her shirt hung open and I could quite clearly see her tits. 36C's I quickly guessed. She wore a white lacy bra with sheer sections that gave it a peekaboo quality. My dick twitched. She picked up the pen and slowly, too slowly, raised back up. She walked around to my side of the desk. I felt nervous. My dick strained against my pants. "You never thanked me for getting that Bradley check," she said. She sat in my lap, wrapped her right arm around my neck, and presented her right cheek to my face. I was sweating and breathing hard, but I knew what to do. I kissed her cheek. "Thank you, Hannah. I appreciate you very much." "And I want to thank you," she said. She turned and kissed my cheek. "What's that for?" "For being such a good boss." She got up but ended up squishing my dick doing so. She looked down at my pants. Was she eyeing my erection? "See you at dinner." I could have sworn she was wiggling her butt on purpose when she walked out. Well, maybe not. I was in a heightened state of arousal after all. Things didn't move any further the next few weeks. She would kiss me on the cheek now and that was nice.Plus, every so often, she wore something a little more revealing, and there was always a time during those days that she would turn or bend, and I could look down her shirt into those beautiful tits. On those evenings, I always ended the work day in the bathroom to relieve my painful blue balls. I called Hannah into my office one night, about fifteen minutes before she was to go home. "Hannah," I said to her across my desk, "I never notified you that you passed your one-month probation period." I stood up and walked around my desk and sat on the edge of it. "You have more than surpassed my expectations of you as an employee. Thank you for being so dedicated." I leaned down and lightly kissed her on the lips. I heard her shiver. I slowly backed away. She looked disoriented. "Thank you," she said in a whisper. Her face was flushed with perspiration. She stood up. "It's hot in here today," she said almost to herself. "I better get back to my desk." She stumbled into the chair. "Oh." She walked a little unsteadily back to her desk. I smiled. In early December, Hannah came into my office at about six and sat down in the chair. "John?" "You look stressed," I said. She did. And tired. "I'm caught up with everything," she said, "and I was wondering if I could go home early." "Is there a problem? Are you okay?" My heart ached in concern for her. "I just have term papers to finish and finals to study for. The couple of hours would help." I stood up and came up behind her chair. "Sure, sure," I said. I put my hands on her shoulders. She moved slightly from the surprise touch of my hands but then relaxed in a sign of trust. "Let me try to massage some of that tension out of you first." I began to squeeze her shoulders and then began to rub and press on her upper back. My hands moved to the back of her neck, and I squeezed. "Is it too hard?" "No. It feels good." "Good, good." I continued her massage. "I'm going to go a little softer now," I told her. "This will help you relax more." I bent down and lowered my lips to the back of her neck. I slowly and softly kissed her neck. "J..." she said. "Shhhh," I interrupted. "Take in the sensations. Relax." I persisted to kiss both sides and the back of her neck. Her breathing slowed to where it nearly matched the gentle pace of my kisses. I smelled no perfume on this eighteen-year-old beauty. I liked that. I was getting a little tired, but I carried on. Sometimes I would return to rubbing with my hands and then come back to kissing her neck. I kept an eye on the clock. After fifteen minutes, I stopped. "Go on home, Hannah. I hope you feel better." "Thanks, John. That felt good." As she went out, I realized I need to start closing my door. No one is usually around after 6 PM, but why take the chance. The next day, I didn't come out to the front desk until the Mobile Waiter brought dinner at 6:00. "Let's have dinner at my desk." We sat in the two chairs in front of my desk. I also closed my door. "So how are you feeling?" I asked. "Better. That massage really helped me relax. I fell asleep when I got home. Maybe I needed sleep more. But I felt refreshed and was able to get some stuff done during the break between my classes." "Wonderful," I said. When dinner was concluded, we stood up. I leaned over, held her upper arms lightly in my hands, and gave her a soft, slightly lingering kiss on her lips. I saw Hannah close her eyes. "Thank you for being such a good friend to me," I whispered softly. Her breath became a little harder. I kissed her softly on the lips again. "You mean so much to me," I said. "It's good to have someone you care about." One more time, I softly kissed her lips. "See you later." I put the excess dinner into the trash and sat down at my desk. Hannah walked out, but several times, before she reached the door, she stopped and looked back at me. Dinner time ran that way from now on. In my office with the door closed. I gradually kissed her a little firmer, a little longer, and a little more often. The following week, we were eating dinner, and she was unusually quiet. "Are you okay?" I asked. "School okay?" "Yeah, yeah, school just finished for the semester." I waited as patiently as I could, but after a couple of minutes of silence, I had to speak, "Please tell me, Hannah? I'm your friend." She looked at me. Moisture formed in the corner of her eyes. "I...I think I love you," she finally said, and then she stood up and burst out of my office. It took every ounce of will I had to not go after her, but I didn't. I knew she needed to be alone. At about 7:00, she came back into my office and sat down in the chair. I came out of my executive chair and sat in the other chair and waited for her to speak. "I think I need to quit," she said with a trembling lip. "What if I told you I think I love you too?" I said. She looked at me with surprise. Maybe the thought hadn't occurred to her. I decided to continue. "Hannah, every day I look forward to when you come in to work. It takes a lot of effort for me not to be waiting at your desk at 4:00. I want you in my life. I know I'm a lot older than you, but the way we get along with each other, it's almost as if we were made for each other." "Please don't go," I added. She looked into my face. I think my words had some effect, but I wasn't sure. I stood up and outstretched my arms. "I want to hold you," I said. She rushed into my arms, and we held each other tightly, and my lips found hers, and she kissed me back for the first time. Our lips passionately sought each other out. Finally, we parted, and I just held her in my arms for the longest time. She laid her head against my shoulder. We ended our next couple of dinners kissing and holding one another. On Tuesday, of the next week, just a week before Christmas, I came out to her desk right before it was time for her to go. I had a gift bag in my hand. "What's this?" she asked with surprise and delight as she took the bag. "Open it when you get home," I told her. During dinner the next day, I asked her how she liked her gift. "I'm glad you asked me to open it at home," she said a little bashfully. I smiled. On Friday was the company Christmas lunch and party. I let everyone go home at noon, and Hannah made the party. I'm glad Hannah socialized with the other people. It would have certainly been awkward if she had been hanging on my arm or if she was always right by me. People finally went home, and I looked around and noticed Hannah had left too. I wanted to give her a secret kiss goodbye. I went to my office to get my briefcase. When I opened the door, Hannah was sitting on my desk. She wore a teddy. It was the same color red as the color of her hair. The top was sheer and lacy with little gaps. A very arousing peekaboo. I could see her right nipple. She stood up. Now I could see some red pubic hair just above where the cloth covered her clit and pussy opening. She looked damn good in the Christmas present I gave her. No. She looked hot! I closed the door and started to run toward her and then, in what I'm sure looked rather silly and comical, I turned around, went back to the door, locked it, and then turned back and ran toward her again. I wrapped my arms around her and bent her back. My mouth went down, and my lips kissed just above her tits and then went down into her exposed cleavage. My tongue darted in between. She hissed as I went between her tits. "Oh, Hannah!" I exclaimed. I straightened up, and my hands went to her bare butt. I squeezed the two firm round globes. My pants-enclosed cock ground against her nearly naked pussy. I finally separated. "You're beautiful," I said. I kissed her lips, and that set off another round of our hands roaming each other's bodies. I took a step back. I had to. I couldn't keep my hands off her. She watched me as I began to unbutton and take off my shirt. "You know," she said, "Having a thin piece of cloth in between my butt cheeks is not very comfortable. This is definitely for a guy's enjoyment because it's uncomfortable for me." "Definitely," I said as I undid my pants while I kicked off my shoes. "Definitely." My pants fell down, and Hannah's eyes went to the bulge in my underwear. "Wow!" she said as my erection came into view. I slipped my feet out. "If that's uncomfortable," I said eagerly, "I could take it off for you." "I'll do it," she said, pulling her eyes away from my cock. She undid the crotch snap and extracted the material out of her crack. The spaghetti straps slid off her shoulder, and she pushed the teddy down. It dropped to the floor. There was a moment when it seemed like neither of us knew what to do next. "I want to suck on your tits," I announced to her. I stepped forward and bent my knees and took her tits into my hands. Hannah's tits were firm. Despite their good size, they did not sag. The joys of youth. I put my mouth on her right nipple. She stumbled a step back, but then she was steady against my desk. "Oh," she moaned. I released her very wet tit and went to her other tit and nipple. I alternated between them, sucking on her nipples, kissing, licking. My tongue running in the valley of her hills. I felt her hand around my dick. I straightened up. "Lay back on the desk," I said. I positioned her butt on the edge of my desk. We couldn't go length-wise on the desk because of the computer. Her head went over the side. "Be right back," I said. I slowly opened the door and looked around. I ran naked to the guest couch. I pulled out the three seat cushions and came back in. Yes, I made sure I relocked it. I raised my executive chair as high as it would go and put the cushions on it. It was perfect! It actually tilted her head forward slightly, so she could see better. "Thanks," she said. "My pleasure," I replied.I was happier than I'd ever been in a long, long time. I lifted her legs and pushed them apart to the sides. My heart felt like it just stopped. There it was, Hannah's beautiful pussy. The wonderful red pubic hair was trimmed for wearing a bikini. There was another red area that particularly grabbed my attention. Hannah moaned and her body arched as my tongue flicked over her clit. I began a slow, deliberate licking, kissing, and sucking on it. "Oh!" she moaned. I would sometimes dart my tongue in between her lips and penetrate into her pussy. Her juices started flowing fast. I drank them up as if it was the rarest of nectars. "Ooooooh," she moaned. Her moan was changed, more aroused. I sucked deeper on her clit. I licked her firmer, and she was also very aroused when I licked along the outside of her lips. She arched her back and pushed her pussy into my face. "Aaaaaaaaah!" she cried out, and I felt her come. I stopped. "Oh, wow!" she said. I waited about a minute. My aching cock needed relief. I stood up and stepped up. I grabbed my cock and lined it up with her pussy. I inserted it into her delicate folds. I looked at her face before I pushed into her. I was perplexed. She looked almost...scared? I watched her facial expression as I slowly pressed my cock into her pussy. I felt her warmth as her body opened for me. I was very surprised to find resistance inside her. "Are you...are you a virgin?" I stammered in surprise. "I wanted to wait for the right one," replied Hannah in an aroused, sensual breath. "You are the one." My head spun. I was no longer just a 42-year-old man having sex with an 18-year-old woman - a girl essentially. I was having sex with a virgin, I was deflowering her, I was the first one ever to fuck her cunt. Needless to say, no matter how I said it, it was extremely exciting for me. "This might hurt a little," I cautioned. "I know." I swear when I broke her hymen that she made the exact same sound a mouse makes when it gets stepped on. "Stop a second," she said as she waited for the pain to subside. I happily obliged. I was partially inside her! It felt good. "Okay," she said a few seconds later. I gradually pushed the rest of my cock all the way inside her pussy. She felt so good. She was warm, she was tight. It was pure ecstasy. I slowly pulled back out with just my cock head inside her and then bit by bit pushed back in. I heard her exhale with my every entry. Over time, I began to speed up inside her. Her tits jiggled and grabbed my attention, so I grabbed them in my hands. I held on to her tits and squeezed them as I leisurely fucked her. After a couple of minutes, Hannah said, "Climb on top of me. I want to feel your body against mine." I had no problem with that. Hannah had to scoot a little. I needed to get at least some of my legs supported by the desk. We pushed my chair back. She lost a little back support, but she was in no risk of falling. She pushed her tits up, and I pressed my chest against them. My cock easily refound her pussy and slid back into her like it was home. In hindsight, it would have been more reasonable for us to lay on the carpet. However, this turned out to be a wonderful first time, and so I lasted much longer than I would have normally. It was difficult to thrust into her. I had little leg support. I used one of the visitor chairs to hold up my feet. As strange as it all seems, all of it just made that first time with Hannah even better. "I never imagined you'd feel so big inside me," she said. There was awe in her voice. I didn't mistake this statement for saying she thought I had a small dick. She was a virgin. A tampon was the biggest thing ever put inside her. In fact, I was a very respectable seven inches. Even at the slowest sex pace, the sensations build. Also, the very fact that I was causing those erotic moans coming out of Hannah's mouth was very stimulating for me. After fifteen minutes, I groaned with every short, hard thrust into her pussy. My orgasm was becoming imminent. She ground her clit against me and moaned out, "Aaaaaaaah." She was coming. I pressed harder and harder. "Unnnnn!" I groaned, and I released. I felt a hard squirt shoot out. It was so hard it almost burned. Then several other squirts came until there was no more. It was a lot of come. I hadn't been in a pussy for ten months. Only masturbation. "You are so beautiful, so wonderful, so special..." I said as I laid kiss after kiss after kiss on her face. "It was even better than I imagined," she said. "Sex is all they say it is and more." "Merry Christmas," I said. "Merry Christmas." Hannah kissed me. "What are you doing for Christmas?" I asked. "You're not going to stay in the dorm all alone?" "I'm going to my parents." "Oh," I said with disappointment. After such a fantastic first time, I just wanted to do it again and again. The week between Christmas and New Year's, I close the office, so on the Tuesday after the holiday, I finally saw Hannah again. She surprised me. She was wearing a skirt. She always dressed very nicely, but it was always with jeans. "Good morning, Hannah," I said with a big smile as I passed by the desk. My heart thumped, and my cock started to fill with blood. "Good morning, John," she replied with an equally big smile. "It was the best Christmas party I've ever been to. Here are your phone messages." I took the small stack of about five. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself." I sat at my desk. As usual, my top customers were trying to reach me after the holiday. The last message caught my eye. It said: "Plan on working late." It was unsigned. Hannah wouldn't let me even kiss her during dinner. When I tried to find out more information on the last message, she acted coy and innocent. "It might be helpful if you weren't wearing any clothes," she told me. I was too distracted to do any work. I got naked already by 7:30. I phoned Hannah. "Did I get any additional messages?" I asked. "No," she said. "Are you sure?" I practically whined. I was too excited. "Maybe it might start a little earlier?" I saw Hannah peek her head around the door while holding the phone. She giggled and then hung up. I was impatient. I had a very hard hard-on. I kept having to stop myself from absent-mindedly stroking my cock. I didn't want to get aroused too fast. Fortunately, she didn't make me wait much longer. She stepped into my office and closed and locked the door. She whipped off her shirt and flung it in my direction. It fell well short. She reached behind and undid her bra. That flew even less. She shook her body. Her tits jiggled for my pleasure. "I need to thank you," Hannah said, as she walked toward me. "What for?" I said, playing the game. "You've been such a good boss. You've taken care of me and..." She climbed up on my lap. Her legs straddled me. She reached down and took hold of my cock. She sat down, and I was surprised as I slipped right into her pussy. "...and you've filled my every need. Mmmmmmm, Ohhhhh!" My first surprise was that she had no panties on. She'd been out there with no panties on all that time. The first surprise facilitates the second surprise in that my cock entered right into her warmth. Hannah began to bounce up and down on my cock. Her tits shook right in front of my face. I did the natural thing. I sucked on them. I smothered my face within her cleavage. She gratified me by pushing her tits together around my face. It felt so good, and then she stopped and got off me. I looked at her in frustration. She undid her skirt, and it fell to the ground. She then turned around and bent over the desk. She spread her legs open. An invitation. "Here's your chance to fulfill every male boss's fantasy," Hannah said. "What?" I said truthfully. "Every man wants to fuck some girl bent over his desk. Here's your chance. Fuck me." I was shocked. Foremost by her language. I'd never heard her talk like that before. It was exciting yet a little repelling at the same time. After our first time of sex, I could see she was no longer the quiet young woman. That person was gone. She was now a sensual, erotic woman who had no problem voicing her physical needs. Secondly, yes indeed it was a fantasy to have a woman bent over the desk, but I never thought I'd do it, nor did I even try. I stood up and inserted my cock back into her open pussy. "Don't be afraid to fuck me hard," she said. "Live your fantasy. Or do it however you want. I love you." I slowly moved back and forth inside her. "Oooooh, it feels different this way. It's hitting just..." She paused as sensations hit. "...the right spot." Her moaning was too provoking for me to hold back, and I began to thrust into her in earnest. I could hear her boiling toward orgasm, and I remembered her words, so I chose to fuck her hard. My hands held her waist, and I now pounded into her. Just a few moments after I started to fuck hard, she cried out and came. I continued to fuck and slam hard into her pussy. I could feel my cock building and building. "UNHH!" I groaned and shot my come into her. "I can feel it," she moaned. "I can feel it shoot." Damn, she was hot! Just before 8:00 every night was the start of very fun times for us over the next few months. When the school year ended, she quit. She said she wanted to work full-time somewhere. Make more money. I'd been giving her $200 a month out of my own paycheck since we started to have sex. My only stipulation was that at least $50 of it had to go to buying lingerie. I offered her full-time work over the summer. It wasn't about the money. The college boys had become interested in her, and she'd become interested in them. It didn't come as a shock. Our relationship lasted longer than I expected. I still miss Hannah. My beautiful redhead.Maybe she'll show up sometime just to relive some old times. You know what I mean. Yes, I know I'm forty-three now. Yes, I know I shouldn't hire part-time help with the hope that I can one day have sex with them. But here's an important fact: even though I'm getting older, the college freshman girls are still eighteen. THE END	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/21/data.txt
52,798	Mr. Kane	The Film Star	You have been invited to a business dinner at a large company headquarters. It is a black-tie event and will consist of over a hundred people attending at the company headquarters to be served champagne and a buffet-style meal. You dress for the occasion: high strapless heels, a black lace g-string, and a low-cut, almost backless black evening dress that flows down to your ankles but is split on the side almost to your g-string. Your hair and makeup are immaculate, and a full-body wax has ensured that your skin is as smooth as a baby's. A touch of perfume, and you are the most stunning person at the function. At the function, you quickly notice that a number of celebrities are there, including a famous film star and his team of four extremely fit-looking bodyguards. As the night progresses, you notice that the film star is paying you a lot of attention, and this flatters you. Eventually, one of his bodyguards takes you aside and asks you to follow him, which you do. You leave the function and walk to the lifts. On entering the lift, he produces a key that allows access to the penthouse floor. Nothing is said as the lift ascends, but your excitement mounts in time with the floor lights. Finally, it stops on the 33rd floor, and using the key again, he opens the lift doors and stands aside to allow you to pass. Hesitantly, you enter the room. It is large, with views over the whole city. Seated in a high-backed chair is the film star, flanked by his remaining bodyguards; the other joins him after leading you by the elbow to stand in front of him. Nothing is said, but you can feel the eyes of all five on you - his with interest, the bodyguards with undisguised lust. Finally, he speaks, "You're a bit full of yourself, aren't you?" You try to reply, but he cuts you off. "No, don't speak while you are here. I, and these men here, intend taking you down a peg or two. If you resist, we shall simply force you. If you complain, we will all testify that you attempted to blackmail me, and I will have no option but to report it to the police." Your mind is racing. What will they do? It can't be that bad, after all, they are all quite good-looking. You show a sign of submission but say nothing. "Good, now show me what my friend has brought me... take off your dress." You remove your dress, slipping the straps from your shoulders and letting it slip to your ankles. You are secretly pleased as it momentarily clings to your erect nipples. You step out of it and, without being told to, slip your g-string slowly over your hips and down to your ankles, stepping out of both. You stand naked in front of all five males... "Hands behind your head and legs spread wide." You comply, thrusting your breasts forward. God, your nipples are hard, and you can feel the juices starting to wet your thighs. "I knew you'd be a slut, but by the end of the night, you are going to be a sore and sorry slut. We intend using every orifice you have, and any hesitation or complaint on your behalf will be dealt with by this," he says, stretching out his hand. One of the bodyguards hands him a thick leather strap four feet long by two inches wide. Rising from the chair, he walks to you and, using the strap, begins to caress your breasts, nipples, buttocks, and pussy. The cool leather sends shivers through you. "Bend, legs straight and wide apart...push that cunt out where we can see it." You are taken by surprise by the harshness of the command, but you obey instantly. You feel your cheeks tighten and splay apart, revealing your inner lips, which are glistening wet. "The slut is hot...turn round, show them how wet you are, slut...feel her...lubricate that anus for later." The four bodyguards eagerly step forward, pushing thick fingers into your pussy and coating them in your juices before ramming them into your anus. At first, it burns and sends shocks of pain through you, but gradually your sphincter relaxes and accommodating them almost becomes pleasurable. "Warm her up, ten strokes each, and anybody who spares her misses out on fucking her." He hands the strap to the first of the bodyguards, who strips off his jacket and shirt, revealing a well-toned torso. Standing to one side, he measures the strap, then, drawing back his arm, he brings it whistling down until it curves round both your cheeks, landing with the sound of a gunshot. You let out a loud groan as the others stare intently at the broad red welt that is forming across your naked bottom cheeks. Again and again, at regular intervals, the strap rises and falls, until your buttocks feel as if they are on fire. Finally, the first ten are over. You remain bent as the sound of a zip coming down causes you to look behind you. Your assailant has shed his trousers and is sporting a huge erection. Closing in on you, he begins to caress your burning buttocks before slipping the head of his cock into your pussy. Holding you by the waist, he steadies himself and then, in one motion, thrusts his cock in up to the hilt, holding it there and drawing the heat from your ravaged buttocks into his thighs. Slowly withdrawing to its full length, he again slams it to the hilt; then passion takes over, and he begins to thrust faster and faster, plunging in until he can hold back no longer. With an animalistic grunt, he embeds himself and begins a series of contracting spurts that fill you with hot cum. Exhausted, he slumps over you before regaining his composure and slowly withdrawing from you, leaving his cum to dribble out of you and coat the inside of your thighs. By now, all of them are naked, and when you look up, you are faced with four fully erect cocks. They decide that your punishment can wait as the one with the biggest cock lies on his back, and you are led over to him. Told to squat down on him, even with the coating of cum and the initial fucking, he is a tight fit, but you gradually ease him in, settling down until your lips are coating his balls in his friends' cum. You are grabbed by the hair and dragged forward, where a second cock is forced into your mouth. While you struggle to stop gagging, you feel your butthole being probed, then a flash of pain as a cock finds the entrance and forces its way in. When all three orifices are filled, the film star takes up the strap and tells you he will lash your breasts alternatively until all three have deposited their cum into you. As the cock thrusts into your mouth, you instinctively recoil, impaling yourself on the twin shafts in your cunt and anus. They, in turn, force you forward, gagging on the oral intruder. To add to your misery, the strap lashes each breast in turn, turning them into fiery globs swinging on your chest. Mercifully, they are all overcome with the erotic energy in the room and, within seconds of each other, they begin to grunt and spurt, forcing you into spasms of your own as your cunt, anus, and mouth contract and drain every last drop from them. Exhausted, you all collapse in a heap at the film star's feet. He watches for a minute, then instructs the bodyguards to carry you to the bathroom, wash and clean all trace of them from you, and then bring you to him in the bedroom, where you will spend the night alone...with him. END	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/21/filmstar.txt
52,897	Kristen Marie ([email protected])	I Fucked Your Husband	You ladies all know me. I'm the 15-year-old babysitter you trust to keep your kids safe while you and your hubby go out and have fun. When he takes me home late at night, you briefly fantasize about him having sex with me. But then he's back home soon, and you realize that he would never cheat on you with a little girl. Hee, hee. Oh, you poor woman. You think about it, don't you, ladies? You have a romantic dinner with your husband, go have a few drinks, then come home anticipating sex. Yes, you know the kids will be in bed because you have a wonderful babysitter. Still, when you have him drive me home, there is that tiny doubt in the back of your mind. You know he's horny all the time, and I am a sexy little vixen who has caught his eye more than once in your presence. So what will happen when I get him alone? You worry, don't you? Check the clock several times as you undress, mentally visualizing how long it should take him to drop me off and get back home. I laugh as I think of this. I know that when he gets home, the first thing you will do is kiss him and then suck his cock. Why? Because you need to know that my taste and smell are not on him. You may not even realize you are doing it, but you do. Do you think your husband and I actually do anything in the car? Silly woman, that's an old fantasy story - hubby drives hot sitter home, sitter seduces hubby, and they have passionate sex in the car. Bah! Not me, I do him in your bed, babe. What? You are surprised? You seem to be, but deep down you suspected... didn't you? Think about it. Remember last month, when he took the day off from work suddenly? I skipped school that day too. You had that meeting you couldn't miss, and I spent the entire morning in your bed. Oh, please, don't act so surprised. You've known me since I was 10. I always had a crush on your husband. You knew that. You even joked about it when I started watching your kids at age 12. Every time he would drive me home, you would say, "Now you two be good." You thought it was cute, but I didn't. I loved him, and as my boobs grew and my legs became longer, he began to give me extra-long hugs goodnight. I bet when he came home, he fucked you extra hard. I know you suspected, but until last month, you really didn't believe it. I knew you were jealous when you told my mom that my shorts were a "Tad bit short to be worn around the children." Really, was that necessary? Kids don't notice that. Not when they are that young. But YOU noticed, and so did he. You saw my young breasts blooming, and you saw your husband looking at my legs. Did you notice the bulge in his pants? I bet that made you mad... but wet also. No, your husband never had sex with me on those nights he drove me home. What DID happen was I told him how sexy I thought he was. Our hugs became harder, and last month, he kissed me on the lips. I was in heaven. But he seduced me and gave me $100 and said to skip school the next day if I wanted more. So I did, and he picked me up 3 blocks from my house, right after you left for work. We went straight to your house and into your bedroom. He slowly removed my t-shirt, lifting it over my head. He licked and sucked on my breasts, making my little nipples hard, and then he unbuttoned my jean shorts and slid them down to my ankles. He then pushed me back onto your bed and pulled them off. His mouth was on my pussy, and he ate me. I came and squirted all over his face. God, it was awesome... Then he took that little toy of yours and shoved it inside me. I came almost as soon as it entered me, because I knew it had been inside of you many, many times. He fucked me with it, gently at first, then harder and faster. I didn't even know when he pulled it out and jammed his cock into me. I was cumming so hard that I didn't realize it until he came inside me. He came hard, and I could feel his sticky cum inside of me. Then afterwards, I put on your red Teddy. You know... the one he likes best. Then we fucked for another hour. He even put his cock in my ass; he said you would never let him do that. Well, I did. I know you're upset, but you're wet too, I bet. Yeah, you are. You wanna see your hubby driving his big hard cock into a young, tight pussy, don't you? I made $200 from watching your kids last week. Oh, I know you are pissed. You want to kill him and me too. But the money was just too good for me to resist. So now you want to divorce him and take his ass to the cleaners. Don't blame ya. Having sex with a 15-year-old would put him in jail if you could prove it. So, let's talk about how I could make $200 this weekend if I happen to have a video of me and him. No, let's make that $5,000.00. Seems I left the video camera running after he went back to work, and I left, and you came home with your co-worker for lunch.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/31/ifucked.txt
52,930	Sandy	A Tale for Glenn	You may remember from my earlier postings there was a time in my life that making love was like performance art for me. I deeply needed the contact, and I sought to fill that need by fulfilling some men's fantasies. While doing this, I played the role of a wandering housewife, which allowed my suitors the freedom from concerns of lasting relationships. I was more or less married to my studies at the time, which meant that I needed to be efficient. This posting describes me at my most efficient. I was emailing a guy named Tom (ironically the same name as my imaginary husband) who was pretty good value. He was pretty fast with a joke, seemed to care about what was going on in my life, and didn't seem too upset when I stopped emailing for brief periods. His interests were pretty basic, and I wouldn't have agreed to meet with him except that the one fantasy he kept coming back to was so sweet. He wanted a wife for a day. Seriously, he just wanted to take care of a woman for one day. Well, I could handle that! So I agreed to play the role for him. This was his plan. He wanted to meet for brunch, see an early movie, go shopping, have dinner, and retire for the night. It just sounded like a normal day, so I agreed, but only on 4 conditions. First, we had to do it pretty far from where I was staying (this was always a requirement). Second, I would not go to his house but we would instead use a hotel of my choice (I'm afraid of secret video equipment). Third, I would not stay the night (I needed to be home to get my husband's phone call). And fourth, that he understand that sex was out of the question (it wasn't, but he shouldn't expect it). He agreed. Okay, I have to admit to something. I enjoyed this game. Tom had agreed to forgo sex, so I made him think about that decision all day. We met at a coffee house. He was a pretty good-looking man, about 5'10" with an almost athletic build, a dark complexion, and pretty green eyes. They weren't as pretty as mine, but they had an almost feminine quality about them. Me? I arrived wearing my hair up (it's blonde), a tight yellow tank top, criminally short jean shorts, and my sneakers. I introduced myself with a smile, a kiss on the cheek, and an extended hug. Mean, right? Maybe. Brunch was nice, and the movie was okay. The date picked up after that. Tom wanted to buy me things. Now normally I would say no, but he insisted that this was his fantasy and that he would do this for his wife. I had expected as much but put up a reasonable fight before giving in. He was a good shopper, and wanted me to look right for that night. He took me to a Sears and had me try on a lot of different outfits for him. I got a kick out of this, but mostly enjoyed trying to figure out what he liked. He had me try on clothes suitable for everything from a girl in junior high to a woman collecting social security. (The extremes grossed me out a bit.) It turned out that his real taste was predictable, but that he just wanted to watch me try on a lot of different stuff. He settled on a short black dress and 3-inch black heels, which I wore out of the store. From there, he took me to get my hair and makeup done! This was unexpected, but really kind of sexy. I wouldn't let them cut my hair, but I did allow them to add a few highlights and style it. I have to admit that this felt good, and that I felt sexy. I am sure that he noticed, and he seemed to take great pleasure in walking around with me on his arm. I enjoyed it too, and had a lot of fun watching the boys watch me! Our early dinner in the hotel lobby was just okay, but the post-dinner dancing was fantastic. Tom could really move, and I felt a certain deep rhythm with his body. I allowed myself to express that, and I think the other (male) patrons enjoyed that as much as Tom. But that was part of the plan. I said this was a story about being efficient. At five of seven, I told Tom I had to go to the bathroom and then check my home phone messages. I left the dining area, walked straight past the bathrooms, exited the side door, and walked behind a dark blue BMW parked under a broken light. There was a dark sheet across the hood of the car, which I pressed my chest against. Almost the second that I did so, I felt my skirt lifted, my panties removed, and a very strong tongue force its way into me. The licking was short but exquisite. Time was a problem. I had to brace myself for what I had only seen pictures of. I felt a pair of very strong hands hold my hips, and a very hard length of manhood rub against me. My lips were separated with very little probing, and after a second or two, the largest penis that I have ever experienced was thrust deep into me. I would have liked a moment for my body to get used to this, but that wasn't to be. Faster and faster I was taken by this man-machine. I was trying to stifle my own moans when I felt him swell deep inside, which sent me over the ledge. We came together. Glenn had always wanted to have sex with someone's wife while the couple was on a date. I had fallen for Glenn, so I gave myself to satisfy this fantasy. But now I had to go. It was only about 10 after 7, but Tom would start to worry soon. With Glenn rushing from between my legs, I rushed back into the hotel. I went straight to our room and called Tom on his cell phone. I told him to come to the room now. In the 2 minutes it took him to get there, I was able to turn down the lights, clean myself up a bit, and greet him at the door with a huge kiss. I told him that the dancing had driven me crazy, and that although I said no before, I wondered if he would make love to me. I pulled him in the room, sat on the bed, and unzipped his pants. He sprung out quickly, and I took him into my mouth. I had to work fast because I couldn't let Tom smell Glenn, so as soon as Tom was rock hard, I pulled him into me. He commented on how wet I was, and I told him that now he understood how much I needed him. I am sure that Tom was a very good lover, but I was too taken by Glenn to really discriminate. In the next 2 hours, I took Tom three times, each time remembering how it felt to be held down against that BMW. END	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/31/atale.txt
53,165	dale10	My Boyfriend: The Brother Games	You can imagine the look on fourteen-year-old Joey's face when he walks into his house to see me sitting in his old man's leather chair, buck-ass naked, with his twelve-year-old brother crouched, equally bare-assed, between my strong jock thighs, licking my fat, sweaty balls. I mean, the high school freshman fuckslop faggot was already totally screwed up, being my personal dick dump, getting worked over by my buddies at school, finding his cute little teenage ass abused and humiliated at every occasion, but to discover that your twelve-year-old brother is swinging on the fat fuck slab that you dream about night and day, the high school jock prick that you crave, that you obsess over, that you need like a drug, to realize that not only every cute chick in school gets to taste that prick, but even your own brother, well, that really drove Joey over the edge. Now, most of you faggots out there who have been following my adventures know that I am one hundred percent totally straight. I fuck cunt! I am a horny high school jock, the cream of the crop, the star school athlete who loves to deflower fresh young pussy. But I also enjoy humiliating and working over faggots just for some innocent jock fun. I know you boys would love to grovel before my eighteen-year-old stud body. I know you would die to lap up my fuckslop. Tough luck, Hershey boys, guess you'll just have to settle for that old baseball bat up your ass-cunts. That should feel a bit like my dick anyway. But that's not the point, is it? The point is, between pre-teen twat, I took soft, smooth, milky-skinned little Joey as my faggot fuck toy. He had discovered he was gay and had a terrible crush on me. So I decided to make his dreams come and cum true. Now he's not the only guy in school who admires my big fat prick, oh no, I see the fags in the locker room drooling over my huge wet fuck sausage, and more than one jock, when drunk, has offered to suck my dick. So I'd been playing with Joey for some time, putting him through hell to test his teenage faggot love for me. But until he walked in to see his little brother licking my nut sack, he didn't know I'd also been working on the twelve-year-old. Now the little shit was easy as pie to seduce. I already recounted how I got him to kiss my dick for the first time in a previous story. He idolized me. Kids that age will do just about anything you tell them to if you play your cards right. Joey was flabbergasted for several reasons. One, he was bare-assed naked, having been locked in a high school locker for the last few hours. Two, he was supposed to be at home babysitting for his brother for the weekend while his parents were out of town, and here I was giving baby boy some nice ball sweat. Three, he wanted all that scrotum scum for himself. He was very selfish and jealous when it came to my dick and balls. "Hi, babe," I crooned, "How's it hanging? I see you got home okay, bare-assed, must have been fun dodging traffic. I just been giving your little bro some of my bag sweat." The little guy removed his soft, full boy lips from my huge fuck-bag and turned wide-eyed to stare at his brother. He looked like a kid who had just been caught in the cookie jar. "Hey, Dick-wad, did I tell you to take your lips off my ball-bag?" He looked back at me with that darling, vulnerable baby boy face. "Eh, no, sir." "Then get your mouth back on my balls." Joey was sputtering and fuming. He was so upset, he forgot that he was bare-assed naked and cute as hell, his dick swinging and his balls bouncing as he hopped from bare foot to bare foot. "Brad, you been, you been doing things with my little brother?" I laughed. "Things? Well, I don't know, ass-wipe, what do you mean by things? Do you mean do I ram my big fat drooling dick down his smooth little boy throat and fuck him in the mouth until he can't talk for the whole next day? Or do you mean, do I shove this big twat splitter up his tiny twelve-year-old asshole and stretch it until it's as sloppy and open as a whore's cunt? Or do you mean, do I take a nice long piss in his pretty little mouth and make him gargle my pee? Or do you mean, do I sit on his soft young face and have him suck my asshole, which seems to be your very favorite hobby? What do you mean by things?" Big old tears burst from the kid's eyes and trailed down his satin-soft cheeks, as of yet devoid of even a hint of facial fuzz. "You, you know what I mean, Brad. I thought. I thought you loved me." Here we go again. The teenage faggot knows I fuck cunt. He knows I'm straight, but he still harps on this fucking love thing. Okay, Okay, so I tell him I love him to get him to open his asshole for me and my buddies. That's normal, isn't it? I mean, when I date a thirteen-year-old cunt, I tell her I love her, so I can stretch those pussy lips with my porker, then after I fuck her until she can't walk, I drop her. So the word "love" is bandied about lots in the teenage world. Hey, pretty fucking intelligent of me to use that word "bandied," ain't it? When was the last time you came across it? How'd you like me to bandy my big fat stiff prick across your faggot face? I love to dick whip older faggots on their faces, watching their slobbering mouths try to capture my fat cock head as it slaps their cheeks and noses. I think it's fucking sick that a guy, a male can get so turned on by the piece of fuckmeat hanging between another guy's legs. I mean, chicks I understand, they are just born to be cock-dumps. They're made to be walking dick ditches, it's their purpose in life. But a guy is worth so much more than that generally. Some of you guys out there are businessmen with nice incomes and good lives. Why do you get all drooly and drippy over the penis of a teenage boy? Jesus, you want to suck on the thing that I piss through. Is that sick or what? You are all fucking freaks as far as I am concerned, and deserve exactly what you get. So there I am with the run of Joey's house for the weekend, and two little dick-sluts at my bidding. So I announce that we would play a little game. The ass-wipe who won the game would get my dick to play with all weekend. The one who lost would have to suffer without the pleasure of my pussy-stuffer. Joey acted all pouty and betrayed, until I pointed out that he was only hurting himself through his behavior. Little brother was mostly embarrassed that his big bro had caught him ball licking. I have to admit, there are very few things in life as fine as a good twelve-year-old mouth on your dick and balls, be it a girl or boy's mouth. At that age, the lips and tongue are really soft and sensitive, and the mouth feels like the warmest, tightest cunt, but in addition to the feeling, when you look down, you have the ultimate pleasure of seeing a beautiful young, fresh-faced kid stuffed with your dick or balls. And face it, it's good for the kid too. It's just the right age to learn how to properly serve a stud dick. Admit it, freaks, you've been walking through a mall, and your dick gave a big old twitch in your pants at the sight of some beautifully smooth, lanky teenage boy, whose mouth looked made to suck dick. The problem is, of course, that our fucking fucked up society has all these fucking laws against fucking young face. It's like trying to curb the natural inclination of man. That's why Joey is such a joy. I can fuck him up as badly as I want, and the little shit keeps coming back for more. "I love you, Brad," he protests right after I have whipped his young, tight ass-cheeks with my belt so badly that the red welts stand out half an inch. "I love you, Brad," he pouts after I've let ten hung niggers fuck his ass all night to pay for a bag of some good weed. "I love you, Brad," I fucked other cunt to teach him a lesson and to get him to do whatever I wanted. So he came mousing around, saying he was sorry and how he would be willing to try. To try, for Christ's sake! And damn if it didn't give me a big old hard on. The ultimate test of love, I called it. And of course, the dumb douche-bag fell for it. "Okay, boys, first game, let's see who can get the most ice cubes up his asshole. Go." The two bare-assed boys, one just a teen, the other not yet, ripped ice cube trays from the freezer and started to shove cubes up their ass-twats. It must have especially been painful for the little guy as his ass wasn't worked over nearly as well as Joey's. I'd only fucked it twice. But once his boy pussy knew the pleasures of my dick, he was hooked. As the cold set in, the boys shivered and moaned with pain. "Come on, Twats, you can do better than that!"Kimberly Bosworth is only in seventh grade, and she can get ten ice cubes up her ass. She could too... well, not at first, but with some coaxing. The boys lay on the kitchen floor, groaning, shoving yet one more ice cube up into their rectums, pushing the ice further and further into their guts. "That's a girl," I said, nudging the twelve-year-old with my big toe. "Show Joey you've got what it takes. Joey, my man, you are not going to let your little brother outdo you, are you? Why, your twat must be twice as stretched as his, after all the dick you've taken." Well, Joey did win. It's only to be expected, a relatively unused boy cunt versus a well-oiled, well-stretched whore-pussy. For the next game, the boys had to dance around naked for me in the kitchen to some radio music until all the ice had melted inside of their bodies. Their boyishly smooth tummies were bloated, as if they were pregnant sows. I had to laugh. I wished four or five of my buddies could have been there to see it. Now I had the boys lie on the kitchen table, each with their mouth on their brother's asshole. Joey was mortified to be doing this stuff with his own little brother. And the little guy was pretty embarrassed too. "Now, when I say go, I want you to shit all the ice water into your brother's mouth. The boy who swallows the most without letting even a drop out of his mouth wins." Does that seem really sick and perverse to you? Well, I certainly hope so; it's amazing and fun to see how far you can push a kid. Besides, I've heard about some of the sick, twisted things you faggots do for fun. Remember, I'm a twat-fucker. Someday I'll be married with kids, and you will still be sucking guy ass. Shit, a bunch of beer-bellied, balding old fags, sucking on the hairy assholes of other guys, fucking sick. I'll be fucking my wife, fucking other chicks, while you'll be beating your worthless piss-meat over the latest video of some teenage boy band. Worthless. Most of you would pay hundreds, just to be able to lick my dick. Shit, maybe I'll do that. Make a truckload of money for college. Of course, I wouldn't wash it after the last cunt I'd fucked, so you'd just have to lick pussy slime off the prick as well. But you could handle that, couldn't you, for a nice taste of my big boy jock prick? Joey and his brother lay there for some time before they could get up the nerve to shit out the ice water into each other's mouths. Eventually, stomach cramps forced a little action. They gagged and moaned and squirted the ass-sloshed water into each other's pretty little toilet mouths. I couldn't really tell who won, but I lied and said the little guy did, so the game was tied at one-one. The next game was to see who could shove the most interesting kitchen utensil up his asshole. Not the biggest, that would be Joey, of course, but the most interesting. Well, the twelve-year-old pleased me real well, shoving a corkscrew up his ass, one of those big kinds with the handles that open upward. He even opened it a bit at my urging, to really stretch that little boy-pussy good. Joey, however, was in top form and shoved a loaf of French bread up his ass, all ten inches. Crying like a baby, he fucked the large, fat oaf in and out of his cunt to please me. Now the question was, is a loaf of bread really a kitchen utensil? Well, I didn't want to discourage him, so I gave him the point. I made Joey shit the loaf out onto the kitchen floor and then had both boys eat some of it. Next, I set up the video camera. Whichever boy could make the most obscene video would win the next point. While they made their films, I showered and called Marley, this fourteen-year-old cunt I'd been fucking. Her parents had forbidden her to see me, for fear I would take their precious daughter's cunt-cherry. Too late. I'd already rammed her pussy and asshole, on our second date. I was only still seeing her quite frankly because I was trying to get the bitch pregnant. Me and my buddies were having a contest, first guy to get a sow with brat wins a case of beer. So I was fucking the bitch pretty regularly, trying to knock her up. This parent's thing was putting a cramp in my chances of winning, so I told the cunt to sneak out of her house and get over to Joey's if she wanted some of my prime dick. I could hear her playing with her cunt over the phone. "You do really love me, don't you, Brad... I mean, I'm not like all the other girls, am I?" I laughed. "Of course I really love you. You hurt my feelings, doubting me. If I only wanted a fuck, I would have dumped you, but aren't we still going together? It's been six weeks now. Doesn't that prove I love you?" "I guess so," she mewed like pussies do. "Now get your cunt over here as fast as you can. And oh yeah, don't wear any panties." I would be so pissed if Mark got his chick preggies first. Well, the videos were real cute, although they lacked imagination. The twelve-year-old couldn't think of much to do except dance bare-assed, and spread his ass cheeks for the camera and finger-fuck his pink little pussy hole. He masturbated his little dick and slapped his balls a couple of times like he knew I liked to do. He was just so damn cute, though, I almost came. He looked half boy and half girl, all young and coltish, and big feet and smooth chest and tummy and nice high round tight ass, and little bobbing dick and balls, and darling girl/boy face. Eager as fuck to please me. There was one real hot bit he did do, when he grabbed the big fake dog that his parents have standing next to the fireplace and pretended to be fucking and sucking with the fake dog. That gave me some real fine ideas for the little cunt. He also did shove the fireplace poker up his little ass, and that pleased me no end. Got my big dick all dripping. Joey's was more creative. He started out wearing my dirty jockstrap from gym class. Then he removed it and sucked on the fuck-pouch. The creative bit was that he shoved the jockstrap up his asshole, that's right, he shoved the strap into his ass-pussy, showing it to the camera real close. Then he danced a bit more, then he pulled the prick-pouch out of his ass slowly, showing the ass lining stretched and pulled out as well, all pink and wet. When the whole jockstrap was out, he shoved it into his mouth and sucked on it again, while pushing his own balls up his asshole. He was a dirty little fuck pig, no doubt about it. The thing was, he was addicted to my dick and just couldn't let his brother win. Fuck it, I don't know, maybe I'm getting sentimental, but I was really moved by both their efforts. So I let them both lick my dick and bags. They kissed my prick staff at the same time, licking up each other's spit. They each took a nut in their mouths and sucked. Two young brothers sucking the nuts of a high school senior. Fucking A! I had them crawl around the floor like little bitch doggies, sniffing each other's assholes. By now, both of them had to piss real bad again, so I had them piss into each other's mouths. They were both so horny they would do anything. They were starting to learn the important lesson that the only thing that matters in life is sex, fucking, fuck, cock, dick, prick, every day all day, it's the only thing that really matters. Did I ever tell you, I fucked my own mother? It was a revenge fuck, to get back at the bitch, but once she had my prick, she came crawling to me for more. Well, I wouldn't give it to her. I would let her look at it, and even touch it, but no suckee, no fuckee, it drove the bitch nuts, she begged, offered me money, sobbed. And I just let her suffer. Fucking whore wanted her own son's dick more than anything in the world. Just the thought of it turned me on. Okay, so you think I'm a heartless bastard. I'm not really. Once in a while, I threw the cunt a used rubber to suck on. I just realize that, despite our moral attitudes, the world really revolves around sex, around fucking. And most people are just too cowardly to make their sex as down and dirty as they would like to. It was time for my cunt to arrive, so I tied up my boys, with rope and shoved a dildo up each ass, and a pair of their dad's dirty underpants in their mouths, and put them in the closet for the night. Then I fucked Marley's brains out, on the parents' bed. We had wine, and stuff, real romantic. I fucked her ass and pussy and mouth in quick rotation, allowed her to worship at the altar of my cock, and even got the useless rag to drink my piss. That was a hoot, this little prissy miss goody two-shoes who, until a few weeks ago, had never even dated a boy, much less gotten fucked, was drinking the piss right out of my fuck-hose, and licking the piss slit clean. Oh, and guess what? I won the case of beer. Her parents were crushed, of course, to have a fourteen-year-old pregnant daughter, and they threatened me, but what could they do? They didn't want anyone to know. Being strict Catholic, they couldn't even abort, so she had to carry the little piglet in her swine tummy until birth. It was great seeing her around school, crying. Once in a while, I felt a bit sorry for the slut and let her suck my dick, but I was basically through with her and already working on several other fresh cunts. I ordered Joey and his little brother to fuck each other every day for one half hour without cumming, just to keep those boy juices hot and flowing. Joey wanted me so badly now. He couldn't even function at school if I didn't talk to him in the morning. He lived for me and my dick. His parents, of course, didn't know what was wrong with their sullen, moody boys. It was time, I decided, to whore the little fucks out for money. But that's another story, isn't it? The End This is for all the fans of the boyfriend series. Write to [email protected] story was written as an adult fantasy. The author does not condone the described behavior in real life.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/40/myboyfriend.txt
54,088	Sheena (no address provided)	Sheena's Lab Guy	Yesterday afternoon's lab class was pretty boring, but the lab instructor was such a sweet piece of meat that it made the class enjoyable. Ever since the semester started, I knew that I wanted him, my pussy told me so. He's six feet tall (I love tall men) with blonde hair and great blue eyes. I was eager to find out if the hair next to his cock was as blonde as his hair. The thought of finding out excited me. I decided that I would fuck him. How could I resist this 24-year-old stud, who I knew couldn't resist me? I made up my mind that I'd fuck him last night. After the lab, I waited until everybody left. I screwed around putting my things away very slowly. He always stayed until every student left because we're not allowed to be in the labs alone. I went up to him and asked him a few mundane questions, which he answered. Right in the middle of one of his answers, I told him point-blank, "I want to fuck you." You should have seen the look on his face. He didn't know what to say. I continued, "Let's go to your office." Surprisingly, he agreed. It was just upstairs, and it was about 5:10, so all of the secretaries were gone. We stepped into his office, and he shut the door behind us. I pounced on him, and he responded quite eagerly. He grabbed my ass and was rubbing it quite frantically. He pushed me onto his desk and then unbuttoned my shirt and feasted on my breasts. Fuck, did his tongue ever feel good! He was chewing on my nipples, and I could feel the dampness between my legs increase. I pushed him off me. I went down on my knees and undid his belt and unzipped his fly. Out sprang my reward. Fuck, was it huge. Needless to say, I grabbed that toy and stuck it into my mouth and sucked on it like it was an all-day sucker. I've had quite a few cocks in my day, but I gotta tell ya, this one was one of the biggest. He finally became more verbal and was telling me how good my tongue and mouth felt. I sucked harder and caressed his balls. I looked up at his face, and I could tell he was in some serious pleasure. I stopped and ordered him to get undressed in front of me. He was a bit shy, but he complied. Nice body. I asked him if he worked out, and he said all the time. I could tell. I knew he would make me cum. I slid out of my dress and lay on his desk. I spread my legs, exposing my love hole, and told him to come and get it. He fucked me so hard until I came and came until I thought I was going to pass out. His thick shaft stretched my pussy walls, aching for his manhood. Then I could feel his cock twitch, and his moans were getting louder, and his rhythm increased. Then he yelled in pleasure as he rammed me and spilled his precious cock juice into my eager hole. He was good. He lay on top of me for a while. I pushed him off and quickly got dressed. I told him if he wanted more sometime to let me know. Next time, I hope he talks a little more. But as long as he's a good lay, who needs to talk, right? I'm planning to get an A on my chem lab.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/77/sheenaslabguy.txt
54,110	Sweet Mindy	Mindy is a Bad Girl	Yesterday I was a very bad girl, but my Daddy forgave me. It was a warm spring day and I was waiting at home for Daddy to come home. Dressed in a very light cotton dress and wearing my best summery heels and lacy ankle socks, I was putting my long blond hair up in the pigtails that he so loved. I had showered and shaved so I would be all smooth like Daddy liked. It turns me on so much to think about pleasing Daddy when he gets home. In fact, it turned me on so much that I had to gently rub my little hairless slit. Not too much, but enough that I was getting damp. The doorbell rang and I went to answer it. Standing there was our next-door neighbor's son, Jason. "Hi Mindy," he said. "My parents are gone and I'm locked out of my house until they get back in an hour." Well, Daddy wasn't due for two hours, so I thought it would be okay, so I invited him in. Jason is 15 and very good-looking, a real hunk. As he came in, I offered him a Coke and told him to come sit in the kitchen while I got ready for Daddy to come home. Jason was wearing shorts and a t-shirt and sandals. He is a runner and has very attractive legs, very muscular, and I noticed he seemed to shave them because he had no hair on them. Suddenly I felt a little wetness on my cunny thinking of Jason and wondering if he shaved anything else. Daddy likes it when I shock people by saying very bold things even though I look so young, so I said to him, "Jason, do you shave all over your body in addition to your legs?" He blushed a little and said, "Well, most of my body," to which I replied, "You should try shaving it all off sometime, it feels so good. I bet your girlfriend would love it." He said, "Well, we broke up last month and I don't have one now." "You poor boy," I said and went to him and sat on his lap. I'm very small and don't weigh much, so it was easy on him. "What happened," I asked. "Her dad found out we were fooling around and told her she couldn't see me anymore." "Fooling around," I said, "Were you getting into each other's pants?" He blushed and seemed uncomfortable, so I gave him a little kiss on the cheek and took his hand, saying "Jason, I know all about the birds and the bees, you don't have to say 'fooling around'. Were you fucking each other?" Looking even more uncomfortable, he squirmed in the chair, but added, "No, we didn't have intercourse, but we kissed and stuff." Again, I was bold and asked, "Did you go down on each other? That's a lot of fun and you can't get pregnant." Since I was sitting on his lap, I could tell that all this talk was getting to him since he was getting a hard-on, so I made believe I was getting more comfortable and wiggled my cute little butt on his stiffening cock. He gulped and answered my question, "I would kiss her some down there, but she wouldn't kiss me, she said it was icky." "Icky," I said, "It's not icky. It's very good. I love to play with cocks. Would you like me to play with yours?" "What if your Daddy comes home?" he asked. "Oh, don't worry, he's not due for a few hours, and he always calls me when he is 10 minutes away so I can be ready for him." With that, I leaped off his lap, pulled him to his feet, and before he knew it, I had all his clothes off and pushed him back down on the chair. He had the sexiest body, all skinny and hard and tanned with the cutest tan lines from his bathing suit. He had a nice 5-inch cock without too much hair on it or on his balls. Since I am barely 5 feet tall, I didn't have to bend much to give him a big wet kiss, and of course, he responded eagerly. As we kissed, I caressed his thigh and crotch without actually touching his package. At first, he just sat there, so I took his hands and brought them up under my very loose dress and put them on my little titties. He moaned a little and began to caress them very tenderly. After a few minutes of this, I pulled away and dropped to my knees. "Oooh Jason, you have such a cute hard-on. Look at how hard it is and how it sticks up. Stroke it for me." Jason was a good boy and he did what I asked and began to stroke his cock. "Not too hard, Jason. Soft and slow. I don't want you to shoot before I get to play with it." I stood up and pulled my short little dress up and standing just in front of him, began to play with my hairless little slit with my right hand and my little bitty titties with my left. We continued for five or so minutes pleasuring ourselves while staring at each other. Finally, I said to Jason, "Come on to my room," and took him by the hand and led him to my room. He picked up his pile of clothes as we went. I have a very pretty, very girly room, all pink and white and baby blue. As we went in, I pressed the button that silently started the hidden cameras recording the room from all angles. Daddy loves to see what I do when he isn't there, and I love to show him. I gently pushed Jason down on the bed in a sitting position with his feet on the floor and knelt before him still dressed in my pretty summer dress and heels and socks. Slowly, slowly, I advanced toward his yummy hard-on until I was almost there and began licking and sucking his ball sack. "Now Jason, you have to learn to be patient and make the pleasure last as long as possible, so when you are almost ready to shoot your load, you have to let me know so I can back off." And I proceeded to give his cock its first tongue bath, savoring every lick of his young man cock. He was very obedient and told me to slow down every few minutes. After fifteen minutes of this, I stopped and said, "I don't know why some girls think this is icky. It's so hot. Look at how slick your cock is all covered with my saliva. Now it's my turn to be licked." Having said this, I stood up and stripped off my dress, but left on my shoes. There is nothing as sexy as a little body like mine naked except for frilly socks and pretty heels. Jason must have thought so too because his eyes got big as I did this and he said, "You look so pretty." I sat down and motioned to Jason to kneel in front of me. "Look at my cunny, how wet it is," I said. "Be very gentle and lick me all around the slit." Jason was a good boy and did just as I said, licking and kissing all around my lips. "Now," I said, "spit on my cunny lips and lick them from bottom to top, and keep spitting and licking." He did as he was told, and I enjoyed his ministrations as I played with my hard little nipples. "Now," I said, "let me show you my little clitty." And I spread my lips and exposed my hard little love button. "Lick this very gently." He did as he was told, and I wriggled in pleasure. "Do you want to get your beautiful cock in my little cunny, Jason?" I asked. "Oh yes, more than anything," he moaned. "OK," I said, "but first I need you to do one more thing. Come up here and kneel next to me and play with my little titties and nipples with your cock. Slap them and rub it on them." My titties are too small for titty fucking, but I love to have someone do this to me, and most men seem to like it too. Jason did as I asked, and I could tell he enjoyed it, and soon my nips were covered in slippery precum, which I rubbed around with my fingers and then sucked from my fingers. "Time for you to fuck me, big boy. You are doing very well. When you get back with your girlfriend, you're going to make her very happy. Remember to not shoot too soon and stop if you get too close. I'll show you what to do." I lay back on the bed with my legs over the edge and motioned for him to stand before me. He brought his love tool up to my slit, and I guided it in and told him to slide in slow and easy until he was all the way in, feeling every little bit of pleasure. He did as he was told. When his cock was all the way in, I asked him how he felt. "Oh god, it's so wonderful. You're all wet and slippery, and I can feel you all wrapped around me. I want to shoot right now, but I also want to wait so I can keep feeling you." "Hold on," I said, "you can make it last. Slow and easy." We fucked like this for quite a while, stopping when necessary, enjoying the feeling of being together with his hard cock in my tight cunt. Finally, I told him it was time to come, and while I diddled my clit, he slowly stroked me, and my cunt pulsed, grabbing his prick. Knowing he couldn't last much longer, I diddled my clit and pulled him into me, and we both came. As my cunt spasmed, I could feel him loading me up with his cum. We lay there for a few minutes, both of us covered in sweat, recovering.Suddenly his cell phone rang. It was his parents. They had gotten home, and he needed to come over. He got his clothes on, and as he left, I told him to come over any time he got locked out. I lay back on my bed, reveling in the feeling of my tight cunny all full of cum. Daddy called me just then and said he was leaving early today and would be home in 10 minutes. "Oh Daddy," I said, "I was trying to be a good little girl. But something happened, and I've been a bad girl. But I have your favorite treat ready for you. I made you a delicious cream pie just like you like." When Daddy got home, he called out, "Baby girl, where are you?" "In my bedroom," I called back. Daddy came in and said, "Baby girl, you have been very naughty. But since you have one of my favorite treats waiting, I can't be too angry." He took off his clothes, and I could see that he was getting hard already. Kneeling down at my feet, he said, "Tell me all about it, Baby Girl, while I eat my favorite kind of pie." With that, Daddy stuck his tongue in my wet slit and started lapping up Jason's cum. "Well Daddy, today Jason came over, and we played together. Maybe he can come over sometime while you're home, and we can all play together. I made a little video like you like, so you can see how yummy he is." "Baby Girl, that sounds like fun. And I can't wait to see him. But you have been naughty, and you need to take your punishment. Spread your legs wide. You need to be spanked with my rod." "Oooh Daddy, please be gentle with me," I giggled, knowing that Daddy would never hurt me. "You have to take this like a big girl," he said, smiling. So I scooted to the edge of the bed and grabbed my ankles around my frilly little socks and pulled my legs up and apart. Daddy stood over me and started slapping my wet cunny lips with his "rod". "Daddy, daddy, be nice to me. Don't hurt me with your big rod." I just lay back and listened as he slapped his 9-inch cock on my wet cunt. "Be a big girl now," he said and continued whacking my cunny. It was so delicious; I was in heaven. Suddenly, he stopped, and I sat up to see him plunge into me, filling me with those luscious feelings. Daddy is so big, and I feel like such a big girl when he fills me up. "Daddy, I have been a very bad girl, but I know you will always forgive me, especially when I make it up to you by doing what you like. What would you like, Daddy? Would you like me to suck your big hard cock? It is so much bigger than Jason's, but I think I can suck it. And it is so wet, all covered with my cunny juice and Jason's cum juice. Let me suck it, Daddy." "You always please me, Baby Girl. I'll let you suck it." Daddy lay down on his back on my bed on my pink sheets, and I knelt up and began working on his cock. Slowly, slowly, I got more and more of it into my little mouth. "Do you like this, Daddy? Do you like to see my lips straining to go around your big hard rod? I hope you like my pink lipstick, Daddy. I put it on just for you. Now, keep watching, Daddy. I know I'm just a little girl, but I think I can get all of you down my throat just like those big girls in the porn magazines you showed me." Soon, I did just that and had my nose pressed against his belly, going up and down on his hard rod, making the slurping noises that he likes so much. Daddy was leaking that slippery stuff from his tip, and it was mixing with my juices and Jason's cum stuff to make Daddy all wet and slippery. Daddy made me stop for a minute and said, "Kiss me so we can share all these luscious flavors." I did, and we tongued each other, sharing all the wetness that I had in my mouth and Daddy had in his from sucking me. Then Daddy picked me up and set me on him, facing him, and holding his hard cock up, told me to sit on it. I got my knees on either side of him and lowered myself onto his big rod. As I raised and lowered myself, we both moaned in pleasure, and Daddy played with my little bitty titties. "I love your little buds, Baby Girl. They are just right, and they have such hard little nipples. White skin with the pink aureole and the red nipples." With that, Daddy started to seriously stroke my cunny, in and out, alternating hard and soft but always sinking that big rod into my little cunt. "Daddy, I'm going to cum. I'm going to have a big orgasm. Are you going to cum too? I hope so. Let's cum together. I love it when you get me so hot that I squirt out that juice. It's not as much as your cum, but I know you like it. Here it comes, Daddy." And I came and squirted my girly cum out all over Daddy's tummy. It was the most I had ever squirted. And as I squirted, I felt Daddy's body tense up, and he had his orgasm, shooting lots and lots of his Daddy cum into my little cunny. I collapsed on his chest and murmured how much I loved him and how good he felt inside me. "Daddy, that was so much fun. I can't wait till you see the little video I made for you. Jason was so sweet. He doesn't know a lot about sex, but I taught him some, and he has such a sweet body. I think we could talk him into playing with us." "I am sure that I will like him if you do, Baby," said Daddy.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/77/mindyisabadgirl.txt
54,113	Callista ([email protected])	Late Bloomer	You know how they say that no matter how much you try, some things just happen when the time is right? I'd like to think that is what happened to me. I grew up in London, and we moved to San Jose, California when I was 15. London was great, and we moved in what my parents considered the 'right' circles, always making sure we were part of the 'in' crowd. My dad is a computer programmer, and he created some kind of program that was the first step towards making part of the Windows operating system. He had his own company, which he sold to Microsoft for a boatload of cash, and according to him, we were 'set for life'. Mom was a lab technician, and Dad and she had met in college and had been married forever and a day. We bought a ranch outside the city proper, just about 250 acres that didn't have anything much on it except a huge house with a pool and a garage with space for about 8 cars at the same time. I didn't think I'd ever get used to so much space after homes in London—think of a mini cooper compared to a tank. There wasn't anyone for miles and miles. It was kind of nice. I discovered a little later that there was a shed about a mile from the house that the previous owners had their help live in (but that comes later). Dad started working for Microsoft almost from the 3rd day we landed, and he was away for pretty much all day, and I got to see him on the weekends if I got up on time. Mom enjoyed the place for a couple of months and then decided she was either going to shoot herself or my dad or both of them from the boredom. I remember the fight they had over why my mom needed to work. Funny thing was, Dad wasn't even against the idea—Mom just had a bug up her ass and needed someone to vent it on. Mom started working, and that pretty much left the house to me for about 3 hours after school every day. School was kind of fun. I'd always been very studious and had been on the gymnastics, volleyball, and football (I know you call it soccer here) teams back home. I decided I'd give tennis a try too. They didn't have a soccer team at the school, but I got on the gymnastics team and the volleyball teams at school (what the hell is beach volleyball?). One of the things I really hadn't given much thought to was boys, just because with the books and the sports, I hadn't really had time for all that. Yes, yes, I know that a 16-year-old virgin is almost as rare as a unicorn these days, but what can I tell you. It wasn't like I hadn't gone on dates or had my experiences with snogging (making out), but it really hadn't progressed past the rubbing my tits stage. I think I've bored you all with the background enough. A little bit about myself. I'm Callista, not Callie—Callista Winston. My parents may have been a little punch-drunk with happiness when they had me, as Mom had a really hard time getting pregnant, hence the name. Currently (I'm 29 now), I stand a shade under 6 feet, with an athletic body, with perky C-cup breasts, topped high with pink (pierced) nipples. I've been told I've a nice ass, and I can still fit into my jeans from the last year of high school (3 hours at the gym every day). I have fair skin, brown/gray eyes, and long brown/black hair. Dad's American, and Mom's Indian. At 16, I was wearing size A bras and had no ass that I knew of. Sex wasn't on the agenda; I had a game plan—get to flight school. I was crazy about flying. I won't go into the details, let's just say we traveled a lot, and I was crazy about flying. Life went on like this for a while—with one exception. *Now on to the part you've been waiting for* Due to the move and late school start, I had to do one more year of school, and everything changed the summer that I turned 18. Due to all the time Mom and Dad were away, and I was pretty much alone at home. There is only so much swimming/internet surfing and TV that you can do. The parental unit had bought me a car for my 18th, and the beach was fun for a while. What they had bought me for my 17th was a dog. Oscar was an American English Coonhound who was more interested in his food bowl than anything else. But he was very interested in other things later. Mom and Dad had rented the farm to a Mexican family; they would farm and reap and pay us 30% from the sale of whatever they grew. Margarite and Alfonso grew onions, tomatoes, and broccoli. They had a son, Felipe, who helped me lose my virginity. It happened one afternoon during the start of my summer vacation. It was the 4th day I was home, bored out of my skull. I had been playing with myself since I was about 15 (yes, yes, late bloomer), and I decided that I would start my morning with a nice diddle. I hadn't really used toys—just my God-given gifts. I usually sleep in my panties. The 8-car garage I mentioned before had a nice apartment above it, and I had claimed that for myself. Mom and Dad had their space at the opposite end of the house, and I could've moaned to my heart's content, and they wouldn't have heard it. I woke up feeling horny (some really intense dreams) and decided that since I was already half-naked, I'd use the rest of the morning to diddle myself silly—I started by pulling on my nipples, which responded to my ministrations very, very satisfactorily by hardening up and sending thrumming little jolts to my groin. I keep my bush nice and trimmed with just a little flame-shaped bit of fuzz whose wick is right above my little magic button. My fingers followed the shape of the flame till the base, and my fingers found my little button. That was it; I couldn't concentrate on playing with my nipples, and both my hands found my groin. My cunt was nice and moist, and one was merrily diddling on my clit, the other one spreading open my labia and rimming around my hole—don't know what I was saving my hymen for, but it was still there, hadn't penetrated myself much more than half a fingertip. I was rubbing away to high heaven and pushing in a little, with all the gyrating hips and pulling myself to the edge, holding myself on the edge for a great orgasm. All of a sudden, I heard barking and scratching at my door. Mom usually lets him out before she leaves, but I guess she decided that he would be the perfect interruption to my morning diddle. Nothing else to do, I got up, opened the door, and almost kicked the little shit. He stood there looking so forlorn that my heart crumbled at him, even though my pussy was screaming for release. I stooped down and hugged him. I guess I'd touched my boobs during my little play session, and he scented pussy juice on my nips, took his merry way with a couple of licks, which got me all hot and bothered again. I pushed him away, shut the door, ignoring his whimpering, and put on my track pants, t-shirt, and dragged myself to the door to open it and let him out. My level of sexual frustration was about the same as Mt. Vesuvius before the explosion. I cursed Oscar to no end—fucking mutt—I loved him, but his sense of timing was excruciating. Nothing to be done—the mood was broken, and even though I tried for at least an hour, my clit and pussy were having none of it, and I couldn't cum. Going to the pool was probably the only other thing I could think of doing—maybe cooling off would help (hah). I put on my bathing suit—nothing special—a pink, grey, and blue two-piece that I used for swimming after gymnastics at the school pool. I jumped in, swam a couple of laps, and lounged on a deck chair. I guess I fell asleep, having some of the most vivid dreams. I was on a deserted island and just walking along the shore and came upon a man who had been shipwrecked. I pushed his shoulder, and he opened his blue, blue eyes and just looked at me. Then he reached up and cupped one of my breasts and kissed me deep, and then he laid me on the ground and went dining at the 'y'. I guess the dream must have made me super horny, as all I really remember is the sound of heavy breathing, and I woke up to the feeling of a hand on my thigh. My eyes opened to see Felipe standing over me. He was shirtless, with a straw hat, and looking at me with a smirk like he was on the island with me. "Senorita Callista - are you okay?" he asked. I was dry-throated and felt like I'd just run a 1-mile a minute for an hour. I just nodded. He didn't seem convinced. "You looked like you were having a bad dream." I told him I was okay. But he wouldn't leave, just kept putzing around the pool and looking at me. I decided to ignore him. I jumped back into the pool to cool down and paddled around for a bit. When I got bored of this, I pulled myself up and decided a wine cooler and a sandwich would hit the spot. I finished off the sandwich, cooler, and got another one from the fridge and went back to my chair.Felipe was still there, cleaning up around the edge of the pool, but I ignored him. Halfway through the second bottle, I felt the booze kicking in and my tense muscles relaxing. I surreptitiously looked for Felipe, but he was away at the far edge of the pool and wasn't looking towards me. My right hand squeezed my right breast, and my left hand snaked towards my clitoris. A quick rub, and my horniness returned like it was just around the corner. I started squeezing and rubbing harder. I know I'd closed my eyes and was just starting to moan when I felt a presence over me. It was Felipe. "Señorita Callista - are you okay?" I looked at him, and his eyes told me he knew exactly what I was doing. Maybe it was the booze, maybe it was the sexual frustration, but I wanted to cum and cum very, very hard. I reached up, and before I knew it, I was kissing him, and he was kissing me back. Holy hell, but there was tongue and tongue. His hands were all over me, squeezing my breasts and my ass. He started kissing the side of my neck and lower, pulling my top down as he moved down. Soon he was all over my breasts, squeezing, biting, and sucking, and my pussy was wetter than it had ever been before. He kissed his way down my stomach to my bikini bottoms and started moving down, pulling my bottoms down. I saw him take in my pubic flame, then dart with kisses, sucking and nipping around my clitoris, labia, and darting his tongue into my love canal. 'Take me,' I heard myself say. His pants were down in a flash, and I saw his cock. It wasn't as big as my imagination, but it must have been at least 7 inches. I felt him spreading my legs and positioning himself. I know I felt him rubbing his cock on me. I was so wet that a subway train would've been able to go through. He put his dick at my hole and started pushing. I didn't know it could feel this good, and my fingers weren't a near enough substitute. He went slow but steady, never pulling back, but a slow, inexorable pushing inwards. I felt my pussy open up like a tunnel that was designed for this. Surprisingly, there wasn't any pain, just a slight snap that I felt was my hymen deciding to give up my virginity to Felipe. Once he was in to the hilt, Felipe paused for a bit, then started pulling back, making my pussy feel like it was giving up something very, very precious. I wasn't empty for too long, and he pushed back in, just a little hard, making me wince. 'Señorita Callista - you're so tight,' he moaned. 'Shut up and fuck me' was the only response. I felt Felipe start to push forward and felt full again. He continued like this for about 5 minutes until I started moving my hips with his motions. He sped up, pushing forward until he was buried to the hilt in me and pulling out, making me fear that I wouldn't be this full ever again. My hips started gyrating. The feeling of his pubic hair on my clitoris was amazing, and his dick in me was even better. I felt his finger around my anus and I spasmed in pleasure, never having had anything there except toilet paper after pooping. Even as he was pushing his dick in and out, I felt him rubbing my ring and then pushing his fingertip in. Never having had sex before, I didn't think anything of this, and after a while, it even became pleasurable. The orgasm that had eluded me all morning finally decided to arrive with a blast, and I don't know if I screamed, but I certainly know that it curled my toes. I thought that once I came, Felipe would stop, but boy, was I wrong. He didn't even pause. His finger in my ass must've been up to the 2nd knuckle, and he continued pushing. His face lowered, and his mouth was on my left nipple, sucking like his life depended on it. My nipple must have had direct contact with my pussy, because before I knew it, my second orgasm was coming in for a crash landing. And land it did. Ladies, I don't know what your first big 'o' was like, but I'm pretty sure I saw stars and planets. Felipe still wasn't done. He paused for a second to get a better angle, and I felt my legs being lifted until my knees were next to my ears (thank god for gymnastics), and the sensations were even more intense. Felipe must have been a jackhammer in his previous life, because he went to town. The pounding he was giving my pussy - ooooooooh. I don't know if he was punishing my pussy or giving it a just reward, but holy hell. I didn't think he'd stop. My pussy was thrumming with all the pounding. Felipe started moaning deep in his chest, and I knew he was close to cumming. "I'm not protected" was something I was barely able to get out before I felt him tense in me. Felipe pulled out his cock and started spraying everywhere. I got a couple of splats on my cheek, nose, and lips. I must admit, I was too busy to notice as I was in the throes of another orgasm. He finally finished and splayed out on top of me. I was just coming down from my last high when I heard Felipe's father calling his name. He jerked up like someone had stuck a cattle prod up his ass, pulled up his pants, and was running down the pool deck like he was on fire. I just lay there enjoying the afterglow. One of the things I realized as my senses slowly returned was that during all the pounding Felipe gave my pussy, he hadn't once kissed me after the initial little bit. Something I had to rectify and soon.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/77/latebloomer.txt
54,617	Daddy's Little Slut (withheld)	If I was your LOVER	You're comfortable? Do you need anything before we start? Good, just sit back and relax. Put all your cares out of your head. That's it. I'm going to make you feel real good. You're sitting in front of your computer. We're both naked already. I'm straddling you right now. Kissing you. Soft and gently. Then harder with more passion. For a long time. Grinding against your crotch. I'm moving down to your neck and your ear, gnawing on you. Trying to devour you. I work my way down your body. Achingly slow. Finally, I've got my head just above your beautiful cock. You're hard, real hard. I flick my tongue around the head of your cock. Then I slowly, slowly work my mouth down it until my nose is buried against your body. I slowly pull my head back. I do this several times, going down slow and coming back up slow. I'm working you into my throat, getting all that slippery slobber, so I have lots of lube to work your cock over with. I start working my hand along your shaft, while my mouth works on the top half of your big cock. I love sucking you, baby. Does it feel good? Can you feel my warm mouth on you, working you over? I love the feel of your cock in my mouth. Can you see me looking up at you? I've got your cock in my mouth. Doesn't my mouth look good stuffed full of your cock? I can't speak right now, but you can see the love in my eyes, can't you? I want to make you come so good. I want to really work up a big load. Have you been saving it for me, baby? Good, 'cause I want lots. I stroke your cock vigorously until I can tell you're on the edge, then I slow down. I stroke and suck you into my mouth with feather-soft touches. I do this until I'm sure you're back off the edge far enough. I stop, stand up and turn with my back to you. I grab your cock and guide it into my pussy. I'm sitting on your cock. I'm supporting my own weight by leaning forward with my hands on my thighs. This way I can really work my pussy up and down on your cock. You can see my pussy, split open by your big cock. You've got a full view of it sliding up and down the length of your wonderful cock. You can see my bountiful pussy juice glistening on your cock. You start rocking your hips in time with the stroking I'm doing on your cock. You're really fucking me back hard now. I reach down and put my hands on the floor for better balance. We're in perfect sync. You've got your hands on my hips, slamming me against you as you ram your cock into me. You stand up so you can get better leverage. I've still got my hands on the floor. I'm getting a head rush from being upside down so long, but it's cool, it makes the fucking you're giving me even better. You are slamming me for all your worth now. You're like a crazy man. "Yeah, baby, that's it. That's what I need. Fuck me hard, baby. Oh yeah, baby, slap my ass. Ooohhh, that hurt so good. Do it again. Harder. Fuck me harder, give me all you've got. Do it! Don't be afraid, I won't break, fuck me hard, baby, please, I need it! I need to feel you slamming me. Yeah, baby, oooohhhh. That's good, baby." I can't take it anymore. I have to cum, I have to rub on my clit. It doesn't take any time at all, I'm cumming all over your big beautiful cock. Can you feel it, baby? My pussy spasming all over you. Can you see my asshole opening and closing? You're fucking me so good. Don't stop, please, I'm going to cum again. "Oh, baby, you're so fucking good." Yes, baby, you're close, aren't you? You wanna cum for me, baby? Huh? Where do you wanna put that load? On my face? OK. I reluctantly pull myself off your cock and kneel in front of you. You're stroking yourself hard. I put my mouth and hand on you and try to keep up the furious momentum. My pussy tastes so good on your cock. You are fucking my face now. You've got both hands on my head, trapping me against you. Your hips are ramming your cock into my throat. I can hardly breathe. I'm gasping for air as you keep up the assault. I can tell you're right there on the edge again, it's boiling up. You're talking to me, telling me, "Eat my cock, you fucking slut, eat it all. That's it, you little cocksucker, eat Daddy's cock all up. That's a good little girl. Suck that big cock." You pull my head back by my hair so I'm looking up at you. You've got your cock in the other hand, jacking it off right in front of my open mouth. You grunt to me: "I'm gonna cum. Whooooaaaa. Yes, you slut, fucking slurp up my cum. OOOHH yes, it's gonna be a big one. I can feel it, you little cocksucker, ooohhh eat it up. Eat all my cum, baby. Eat it up, you fucking wonderful little slut. AAAAAAGGGGHHHHHH!!" You shoot your load all over my open mouth and all over my face. It's dripping down onto my tits. It's so warm and wonderful. I try to catch it in my mouth, so I can eat it all, but you're squirting all over the place. It seems like you're never going to stop. Your cock just keeps pumping out more cum. Finally, it stops, and you put your cock back in my mouth and milk out the last few drops from the base of your cock. Wow, I'm covered in you. You look down at me and start laughing, you can't believe you shot out that much. I must look crazed right now. All freshly fucked and cum-soaked. You grab a towel and clean me up. You take your time, as you clean one spot off, you kiss me there. You keep this up until it's all gone. You lead me over to the bed and crawl in beside me. "Good night, baby, and thank you."	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/14/lover.txt
55,227	Terri Madison	Parking Lot	You're walking to your car after a long week's work. Everyone else has already gone home, and the parking lot is vacant. You're just about to open your car when a pair of hands grabs you roughly from behind, pushing you up against the car. You cry out, but nobody can hear you before a hand is clamped over your mouth as the other hand rips your top open, exposing your naked breasts as you didn't bother to wear a bra today. Your nipples get hard as your tits are mashed against the cold glass of your car window. You can also feel your assailant's hard cock rubbing against your ass through his pants. With a swift motion, the rest of your clothes are torn off of you, and you're totally naked save for your high heels. Your assailant presses his forearm against your back, keeping you pinned against the car as he unbuckles his pants. You now feel his cock pressing against your ass-cheeks. As he relaxes his grip on you, you consider struggling and making a break for it. Then you remember that you're completely naked, except for a pair of 4" heels, and that you certainly wouldn't get far. As if reading your thoughts, your assailant speaks for the first time. "That's right, Terri..." Your eyes widen in surprise and fright... he knows your name! "There's nowhere to go, so why don't you just relax and be nice to me..." His hands reach around you and begin kneading your tits roughly. You turn your head, but are warned not to look at your attacker. One hand wanders down and begins probing your pussy. Despite yourself, you respond, involuntarily getting wet and aroused by your experience as conflicting feelings of fear, lust, cold and excitement race through your heart. Without warning, the hands grasp your hips, and his cock slips into your dripping pussy. You've been fantasizing all day about being fucked, and now it's happening -- though not in the way you'd planned, standing next to your car, cold and naked. Still you can't help yourself, as you involuntarily thrust your ass back against your assailant who responds by pounding you even harder. You whimper softly as he slams into you forcefully. "This is what happens to sluts like you," he tells you as he brings the palm of his hand down on your wonderfully shaped ass-cheek. "Yes!" you moan weakly, unable to control your reactions to the fucking you're getting. You can feel the familiar feeling deep inside, as you're inexorably brought closer and closer to the edge by the cock which is invading your tight pussy so well. His balls slap against your aroused clit as he fucks you harder and faster. Now you're screaming... and still nobody can hear you as you enjoy the first of multiple orgasms. He pulls out and presses his cock-head against the tight rosebud of your ass. You moan as he slips his cock, lubricated with your juices, into your tight ass. Pounding your anal opening just the way he used your slutty pussy... taking what he wants from you. And you have no intention of trying to stop him... he is fucking your ass SO well, you reach down and shove two fingers inside your pussy, picking up where his cock left off and soon you're howling again. With a grunt, he lodges his prick deep in your ass. "Take this, slut...." he growls as he empties spurt after spurt of his cum in your ass. And you take it, wiggling your ass against him as you furiously work your cunt with four fingers now. He pulls out of your ass, giving it a good swat with the palm of his hand. Then he gathers up your torn clothes and your car keys and walks away, leaving you locked out of your car, alone, naked, your hair disheveled, with your juices dripping out of your pussy and his cum oozing out of your ass. As you sink helplessly to a sitting position leaning against your car, your hand wanders to your pussy again...	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/52/parking.txt
55,231	Bshaddow ([email protected])	Secrets That A Mother And Son Keep - 2	Yah! That's right; my cavernous pussy left gooey wreckage on Tommy's leather desk chair! I was intrigued to watch my watery spew flow down a path of creases that were imprinted on the top cover of the cushion. With the help from my long red fingertips pushing it, the juice eventually pooled in the soft depressions where my son's tender, naked buttocks contacted the soothing leather. The dissimilarity in color of my special mixture and Tommy's black chair was extremely arousing to see, and I really wanted the little Neanderthal's to realize that his brazen mother marked her territory! (With an exclamation point)!! After calming down from my kinky high, I showered. My body felt refreshed and relaxed, and I wanted a clear head and a plan for dealing with my perverted son's activities. I wish to digress from my story for a little while to tell you about my family... First of all, it's pretty small, it's just my son and me. When Tommy was conceived, his father was 14 years old. It wasn't a relationship that I was proud of, especially since I was only 16 at the time. I really didn't want the sperm donor knowing that Tommy was his child. Considering our young ages and other forbidden reasons (which I won't discuss right now), I figured holding the information from him and everybody else would keep things less complicated. My high school education was put on hold for the first 2 years of my son's life; however, I was truly blessed that both my younger twin siblings, Mitch and Tasha, helped me out a great deal in raising him. They both took turns babysitting, feeding, and playing with their little nephew. All the while, I worked several low-skill jobs just to put food on our table and clothes on our backs. My mother and father were also very supportive; they bought him the extras in life that I simply couldn't afford at the time and, of course, sheltered both of us until I could get a leg up in life. Then one day, while I was shopping for groceries, I was approached by the owner of a popular gentleman's club on the outskirts of town. The handsome proprietor introduced himself as Paul Taylor and proceeded to pitch a dancing position to me, working at his club. He said I could make a very good living as an exotic performer. I listened to his words with great caution! At first, I thought he was using a pickup line. Paul projected himself unknowingly very charismatic and said that I was the perfect trifecta. I looked young and had a green-eyed angelic face, capping it off with a 5'10" body that was beyond compare. The only thing that he would change about me would be my breasts. My face hardened with anger at Paul's bold statement! It was flushed with a bright red hue as I dictated to Paul that I was a 36C and I didn't need to get any larger! Scared that I was going to walk away, Paul qualified his remarks by saying that I didn't necessarily need to be larger, just firmer with a more sculpted and rounder appearance. Paul added that the women who had breast enhancements done typically make about 50% more in tips per night than naturally busty performers, and they get asked out for "special events" more frequently to even further increase my monetary potential. Overcome with dollar signs in my eyes, along with the ring of a cash register in my head, I was less angered by his provocative statement, and he started to make good sense to me. To sweeten the deal, Paul offered to pay for my elective surgery if I signed a 1-year contract with him to exclusively perform at his club. I was very excited by his offer, so I agreed! Several months passed, and my life was finally getting more financially stable after performing in Paul's club. I loved the look of my newly formed breasts! And I have to say I'm glad that Paul suggested my improvement because they surely appear perfect. My jelled tits obscenely stretched from my chest like two inordinately filled water balloons ready to burst. (Yep, big, big, big tips indeed)! Paul was a great boss to work for. He was always true to his word. I was never pressured into having sex with his "guests," and I was always escorted to any private parties that I performed at. (Keeps down the unwanted wrestling matches). Working at the club really opened up my eyes to how a man's brain really works. The more complicated they appear, the simpler the mind. As demonstrated by their actions, it really comes down to one old cliché: Men generally think with what's in between their legs! Over time, I've developed certain skills as to how to exploit that flaw of theirs for my advantage. The only side effect that I noticed while working for Paul's club is that I became exceptionally self-aware of my perfect body. I loved using it to visually stimulate customers. My mind was in a constant state of arousal. Just the thought of all those men watching my skilled figure from the audience would love it for me to come down to fuck and suck them. It would make my pussy flow like a river. Seriously! I had to change my panties several times a day! I also discovered this was a real good money maker for the fact that I would sensually rub my used, dirty panties in the faces of my male clients as I seductively danced for them. And for an added kicker, I made sure to momentarily dip my lingerie in their mouths to give them a taste of my Sweet, Sweet, Honey! The guests loved my performance, and my deviant actions usually brought me much larger tips at the end of the night. My ever-developing craft absolutely came in handy in the bedroom. I definitely got off learning all of my lovers' depraved darkest fantasies; my desire was to act them out for them. This fed my polluted hunger for perversion, and I savored every moment of it! (I turned into such a little slut)! Two years passed, and Tommy was now 4 years old. I accumulated an extensive bank account, which enabled Tommy and me to eventually move out of my parent's home. The responsible side of me needed a chance to grow up and become a real mother to my little boy. I always tied keeping my unprincipled lifestyle from surfacing around him. So I quit my risqué job, bought a home, furthered my education, and eventually opened an upscale health and beauty salon in another state. My hope was that my slutty past wouldn't follow us across the country, mainly to keep Tommy from knowing his shady mother's past. I want him to grow up with a normal start to his life! Enough of my background - skipping ahead to Tommy's adolescent years, I knew that I was in for a bumpy road. However, I didn't expect his deviance. (I guess the apple doesn't fall from the tree after all)! Showing some signs of nervousness, I bit my lip and thought, "Two hours to go until Tommy is home, and how am I going to deal with him?" Then an imaginary lightning flash blinded me! I, at that moment, decided to throw every inhibition away and yelled out, "if it's a mommy slut he wants, then it's a mommy slut he gets"! Poor unsuspecting Tommy was going to have his prick teased at every opportunity. "Little does he know that the framework he has been building has woken something up in me that I don't know if I will be able to control," I thought with the sound of an evil laugh! AND NOW FROM TOMMY'S POINT OF VIEW: I've been jerking off while dreaming about my MILF! When I was 11 or 12, I was looking for my dog Rocky in my mother's bedroom. I accidentally found a storage box underneath ma's bed. I was curious to see what was inside, so I slid back the lid and peeked in, keeping my ears open towards the hallway. I wanted to make sure mom didn't catch me going through her stuff. I looked at all the different junk mom had secretly stored in the Rubbermaid container. There were a few objects that I could clearly recognize what they were. Sometimes late at night when I couldn't sleep, I would sneak downstairs and watch adult cable infomercials on women's special stimulators, strap-ons, vibrators, and dildos. So I had a good idea of what they were for. I just couldn't comprehend how my mom was using them? I picked out her collectibles one by one, fooling around with all the different shapes, colors, and textures. I couldn't believe my eyes that my mom had all this stuff! Questions rolled through my mind, "Why does mama need these things?" I thought. Time was running out; I figured ma was due to come up here any moment. I had to get out of there! I carefully put everything back as I found them and quietly slid the container back under the bed so mom didn't know I was snooping around in her things. Clean and pure thoughts of my "White bread" mom gradually diminished throughout the day. I started to look at my minx of a mother with teenage, raging hormone-driven lust.And I would do anything to support my passionate feelings for her. That night, while I was supposed to be doing my homework, I did something I've never done before. I surfed some porn sites that specialized in older women and their toys. It was pretty simple, really - all I did was type "(mom & vibrators)" in my favorite search engine, and you wouldn't believe all the neat stuff that came up. There was a plethora of graphic pictures of beautiful older ladies fucking themselves with their plastic and rubber dicks. All I had to do was imagine that any one of the women was my mom as I slowly and lightly stroked my little stiffy, and in a matter of a minute, I experienced the best feeling I've ever had down between my legs. And then it happened - my first sperm shoot. At first, I didn't know if I had pissed myself or what had happened! All I knew is that I felt great, and I needed to do more of that. After several months went by, I became quite an expert "cocks-man" - I was whipping my skippy like there was no tomorrow! At least 5 times a day, without my mother being wise to my newly found activity. Most nights, I lay awake at night masturbating, imagining mom using her sex toys, but only visualizing mother abusing her pussy soon wasn't enough to stimulate me like when it was all new. I decided to create more of a definite boost for my jerk time by studying mom's habits, documenting her life by covertly using photography, and I also started to tape-record her conversations with her friends and current boyfriend named Mark. It was almost like I was making mom my science project. Mark was a well-built but uptight lawyer in his late 20's who practiced real estate law locally in town. He was so big he looked like he should have played pro football instead of pushing a pencil all his life. When he stood next to mom, her teased, spiky blonde hair on the top of her head only came to the bottom of his thick neck (and mom is 5'10" tall)! Now, I must admit I was very young and didn't know much about sex at the time, except for what kids my age pick up around his equally green friends and, of course, the internet. But secretly studying mom's sexual habits really opened my eyes to what kinky sex is. I would consistently blow my sticky wad into my bed sheets listening to my mom's sexually vulgar mouth assault Mark during their tape-recorded fuck sessions. I started becoming jealous of Mark fucking my gorgeous mother with weekly regularity. And that made me pissed! My obsession grew beyond my control for my Ma (along with my dick)! But just recording mom's lusty voice wasn't enough to fulfill my fantasies of her. I needed to see her incredibly tight body in action. For Christmas, mom bought me a high-performance camcorder with a remote control. It was the smallest high-resolution camera made with an infrared mode selector switch for night vision. It was to be used for our family outings such as our annual zoo trip, holidays, and family vacations. This was going to be my instrument of choice for my next level of spying on her. (Oh yeah, mom bought nothing but the best for her spoiled little boy)! My mind visualized a blueprint of mom's bedroom to figure out the best place to install the camera inconspicuously. I needed to hide it there before New Year's Eve, as I knew Mark would be coming over to "celebrate" the holiday with mom, and I wanted to visually capture their special night together. Time was running out. It was three days before the holiday, and I really needed to get the camera set up. Mom left the house for a little while to get us a pizza for dinner, and with the house empty, it gave me the opportunity to place my movie maker in its new home. I selected the least obvious location, which was in her ceiling vent at the furthest corner of her room. This was directly across from mom's king-sized four-poster bed. I tested the camcorder with the lens at its widest setting, and it viewed about two-thirds of her bedroom. (Gotta love the new technology lens)! Carefully, I removed the screws from the cover and kept them off for quick accessibility when I retrieve it. And I also placed a piece of black foam in front of it (to keep the camera's mechanical noise down); I had to cut a hole in the center of it (not to obscure its view of the lens or the sensor so the remote control would work). I used the function several times with the remote, and it worked perfectly! My job was done, and I was set to make some home-made porn of my mother. All I had to do was anxiously wait for the opportunity. My plan was to make myself conveniently disappear for New Year's Eve so that Mark and mom would have the entire night to themselves uninterrupted! In order for me to achieve this, I was to deceive ma by asking her if I could stay overnight at Tyler's house, who was a buddy of mine down the street. Mom's facial expression poorly covered her obvious excitement for the thought of a night filled with unbridled sex, but her overachieving parenting skills took over when she asked me 20 questions about the circumstances at Tyler's house that evening. I answered everything correctly, and she agreed. The big night finally came, and I prepared everything. I climbed the tree outside ma's bedroom window and tested the remote again to see if the camera would work by being operated from out there through the glass (it worked flawlessly)! With mom in the shower pampering herself previous to Mark entering the driveway, I quietly snuck back into her bedroom and did a final inspection one hour before I was to leave for the night. Entering her room, I looked on ma's bed and noted black satin sheets covering the top of it, and directly in the center was her unique treasure chest filled with goodies. I leaned over to peek inside and noticed ma had added quite a few more toys to her collection since I saw it last. "HOLY SHIT!" I screamed as my jaw dropped to the ground when I hoisted out from the box this fucking huge black rubber dildo! I was stunned at the thought that mom could successfully be penetrated by this monster. Honestly, a baseball bat at the fat end was the best way to describe the width of the thing. And man, was it long - with my fingers extended flat out to meet the tip, the length of it came up to my elbow. Wow! As I studied it closer, for some strange reason, I was turned on by it, perhaps it was the size and shape of it, or maybe it was the thought that my mom masturbated with it. But I couldn't resist putting the tip of it in my mouth to taste it. I wished it would be flavored with ma's pussy. But no! It was very smooth feeling on my tongue and tasted like rubber should, almost chalky and bitter. I licked it up and down slowly, making sure to cover the entire length, secretly hoping ma would do the same, unknowingly tasting her boy's dried saliva. My wiener was getting instantly stiff. I wanted to jack off and cum on her silky smooth bed sheets as I imagined the possibility that mom was going to use her fuck toy in her heavenly snatch tonight. I had to wait for the replay, for I was going to jerk off to it tomorrow, A LOT!! A definitive thump of the shower's water valve being shut off was all I heard. I needed to urgently get out of her bedroom. But before vacating, I closed her window blinds and pulled them up barely high enough to leave a small, unnoticeable gap so the remote had a clear line of sight. "Everything is set!" I said as I left the room, making sure everything was as I found it. A half-hour later, I heard mom walk into the kitchen to bid me goodbye (click, click, click). I was stunned by the way mom was provocatively dressed! My eyes scanned her from head to toe. Her blonde, bitchy, shoulder-length hair, which was usually styled with tormented volume, was now cascading straight down to the middle of her back with platinum streaks running throughout. It was pulled back enough to expose her trashy 3" silver hoop earrings, along with 5 silver ball studs that outlined the perimeter of each of mom's sensual ear flaps. Her green eyes squinted and appeared smoky with the expert use of her hand using much darker colors than I've ever seen her wear before. I now knew what the term "bedroom eyes" meant. She covered her plush lips again with a darker, more natural shade of plum, but it was top-coated with an unusually super high luster. I thought to myself, "I would love to know the feeling of parting those shiny, pouted lips of my 30-something mother with her son's teenage dick!" The tightest dress I've ever seen mom wear was on display in front of me tonight. It was bright red and VERY! VERY! Low cut. Ma must have exerted great effort to squeeze into the dyed cow skin one-piece dress. Its shiny lacing up the front hugged her perfect figure like a shrunken leather driving glove. Its plunging neckline, which was cinched so tight against her exposed tits, they were pushed together, and the lacing looked like red grill marks against her tanned skin. The opening continued all the way down to her navel and prominently displayed its piercing with another silver stud. I wondered if my mother was previously pierced or if she had it done for the occasion? To the best of my knowledge, she had never shown her sexy belly or even possessed any sluttish clothes like this before. Mom was standing in the kitchen doorway and pirouetted in front of me, saying, "Well, what do you think?" I don't know what she expected, but Ma obviously didn't plan on my trance-like state reaction. Words couldn't come from my mouth. I tried, but I couldn't move my lips! I just stood there, looking like a total dork for about a minute, with my sandwich in hand. I was ready to drop it because of my loosening grip. "Honey, Honey! Are you alright?" she said with concern. I regained some composure to say, "Mom, you look wonderful!" I sounded with enthusiasm.But what I really wanted to say was if she was my slut, I would have her look that way all the time! "Good, I didn't want to appear too over the top," Ma said as she looked down at her foot and slid her red, patent leather pump towards me, showing off its brilliant, glassy shine against the super-white ceramic tile floor. She walked past me to the window above the kitchen sink, stretching over the lower cabinet to see if Mark's car was in the driveway. Ma was negligent to the fact that my eyes were glued to her 5-inch spikes, which gave the presentation of extending her already flawlessly sculpted legs. Mark was one lucky bastard to be tapping that, I thought. And then my overwhelming feeling of jealousy of him returned. I wanted Mom to be my personal slut in the worst way! I knew I couldn't have her in that way, and that desperate feeling was going to drive me crazy!	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/52/secrets2.txt
55,340	Deputy Duffy	Mind's Eye	You are led into a brightly-lit room, squinting until your eyes adjust. The door slams shut behind you, in a startling thud. A sudden feeling of aloneness becomes you. Your eyes scan the strange environment, first focusing on a metallic steel table in the room's center, bright reflections of light bouncing off, in all directions. You're instantly uneasy as to its purpose. You stand on a small yellow line, which runs about two feet long, just in front of the table. Your eyes scan upwards at the two cameras pointing down, small red lights blinking. Your reflection suddenly catches your eye. You move in front of a small mirror, on the far wall. You've seen enough Cop-Shows on TV to know that it isn't there for you to do your hair and makeup. The feeling of loneliness is gone now, replaced with an uneasy nervousness, as you suddenly feel like a fish, swimming in a small fishbowl. You're drawn to the ominous steel table, and as much as you don't want to, you reach out and touch the table's surface. Shivers run down your spine, just from the coldness, while its smoothness is your next observation. You contemplate sitting, but opt for leaning, as you nervously wait. Time seems painfully slow, as your mind races back to the events that led you to this point. There was the office party, the couple glasses of wine, the missed red light, the flashing blue lights, the young deputy, the botched field sobriety test, the pleas of innocence, the not-so-quick pat down, the cold cuffs, the cramped back seat, the ignored pleas for mercy. Your mind suddenly shifts its focus to your husband, your two kids, your best friends, your boss, your coworkers, even your favorite high school teacher. Suddenly a judge appears before your eyes and pronounces your guilt. Your eyes shift around and they're all there, their faces filled with disappointment. A feeling of deep shame floods through your body, tears well in your eyes, you curse your stupidity, over and over. Time drags on and you do your best to regain your composure. The black door suddenly swings open and the young deputy returns, carrying a clipboard. You take one last chance to proclaim your innocence, but he isn't buying it and you can only assume that he has heard it all before, even at his tender age. Your eyes find that yellow line on the floor, only now you've been instructed to stand on it. Feet in place, you nervously stare at the young man, as he leans against the steel table now, only a couple of feet away. Your eyes meet, you can hardly breathe from fear, fear of the unknown. He barks a simple five-letter command that sends shivers down your spine, as your worst fears are realized. You can't move, it's as if you don't understand the simple word's meaning, but you're an educated woman, you even know a couple of ways that Webster defines it. You know it means to deprive of possessions or to divest of honors, privileges, or functions. But deep down you know how he really means to use the word, which is to remove clothing, covering, or surface matter from. And that from, is you. The deputy snaps to attention, startling you even more, as he again orders you to Strip. You plead your case one more time, but you know it's futile. You look down at your outfit, instantly wishing you weren't dressed to party. It suddenly dawns on you to ask for a female deputy, surely he didn't expect you to disrobe in front of him. You plead, almost proud of yourself for thinking of it. His only response is unsettling, as there doesn't seem to be a female deputy available, no, he wants you naked alright, naked for his eyes and right now. You stand your ground, until he brings up the sheriff, which shakes your bones, as you know all too well about his reputation. Your hands quickly slip off your best vest and hand it over to the deputy. You watch as he quickly searches it, and simply drops it on the cement floor. If he knew how much it cost, he wouldn't be so careless with it, you remind him, but he just chuckles. You know you've only just begun, but you can't stop from shaking, as a bead of sweat drops from your forehead. The deputy's tapping foot and hungry blue eyes aren't helping. After contemplating your next move, you unzip your skirt and let it slip down your legs, carefully stepping out of it, before handing it to the deputy, and it too is dumped on the cement floor. Your blood is starting to boil, as he awaits your next move, still tapping his foot on the floor. You reach up to undo the top button of your red silk blouse; its color matching your cheeks. Your hands tremble, making the simple task, difficult. One button and then the next, all while knowing how exposed this is going to leave you to his waiting eyes. You also can't help but to think of just how many other sets of unseen eyes are on your strip show as well. You muster up all your courage, and spread the two halves open. After you've given the command, you quickly slide your arms out of it and hand it over. He just treats your fancy blouse like a rag, balling it up, before tossing it down. Your eyes focus longingly at your growing pile of discarded clothes, now strewn on the dirty floor. His eyes return and you instinctively cover your body with your arms, as you realize your underwear selection of a small, frilly peach-colored bra, small matching panties, garter-belt and white mesh thigh-high stockings, were meant for your husband's eyes and not his. You feel your fancy heeled shoes are too sexy for your current dilemma, but he wants them on. He suddenly starts barking out orders like a drill sergeant and you reluctantly follow. You soon find your hands interlocked behind your head, elbows back, legs shoulder-width apart. You can only pray it's over. Your heart pounds, as he slowly circles you like prey. He complements your bra selection, as he runs his fingers under the straps. You squirm from his smooth touch and his slimy personality. You watch him carefully, as he moves in front of you. Your face flushed with embarrassment, as he pulls the front of your bra away from your breasts, like he wanted a sneak preview, before he asks, rather rudely, for you to remove it. Anger envelops you, as you plead your case, and you resist the slap in the face that you yearn to deliver. Guys have been trying to see your breasts since you were a teenager, and at 35 you still haven't got used to it, their hungry eyes devouring them, seemingly always focused on them. You notice he's no different, when you unsnap your front latch and slide it off. Your bra joins the pile, as you quickly cover your naked breasts with your hands, trying to retain some modesty, although you know by the look on his face that he has seen the pose before. Your hands are back behind your head in no time, your breasts on full display, to the young man's eyes. Your erect pink nipples add to your embarrassment, but it only gets worse, as you are soon lifting your breasts up by them. Then, following another command, you start shaking them back and forth, while leaning forward. His actions so juvenile to you, you're only surprised he didn't make you jump up and down. Back in position, you join him and look down at your source of embarrassment. Your usually proud of your ample breasts, but unlike many, you took more pride in the fact that you had made it this far in your career, without using them to your advantage. Today, you wish you were flat as a board. You also wish you had left the garter-belt and stockings at home, as well, as his eyes shift to your lower body, but he wants the panties next. You had prayed that when he saw your breasts, it would be over, but deep down you knew that he wouldn't be satisfied until he saw all of you, all of you naked. You pull the thin bows that hold your delicate panties together. You suddenly feel like a virgin again, as the feeling of taking off your panties, your last line of defense, is unnerving. You look to him for mercy, but he is anxiously waiting for them, hand extended. You sniffle like a scolded child, as he barks at you, until you hand them over. Your hands immediately take their place, but not for long as they are behind your head, once again.You cringe as you slowly turn your body around for him, every side, every angle, all his for the taking, all because he wears a badge. It's time for his next command. You have to unhook your garter belt from each stocking and then roll them down each leg, not really getting the "straight legs" command, until you feel your breasts swaying heavily from your chest. Before you can react, you have a small feeling of relief come over you, as you are ordered to roll your stockings back up and re-attach them, as you figure this is the start of your redressing process. Your relief is short-lived, however, as his next command startles you. You can't believe your ears! He wants you up on the steel table, up on all fours, like a puppy dog. He even snaps his fingers at you. You just shake your head, whimpering, until a sharp slap to the ass sends you scurrying. You feel helplessly naked. It's like out of your worst nightmare. You are now under his thumb. Your higher education, your status, now all meaningless. You slowly climb up on the table that now feels colder than it did before, your burning flesh, your reasoning. Humiliation pours through your body as he pats you on the head when you're in position, which is one that you would never even let your lover put you in. He gives a lewd command, which hits like a punch to the stomach. A tear drops to the table as you spread your legs apart for his eyes when he moves behind you. You quickly find out that it's for more than his eyes, as you feel his fingers first touch your well-trimmed pussy, which causes an alarmed lunge forward and a violent protest. A strong arm guides you back into place, and the fingers quickly return. You close your eyes in shame as the strip-search moves to a cavity-search, which leaves you aghast. You feel your pussy lips being manipulated, gasping in horror when his finger and thumb pull you open. A finger, maybe even two, find their way inside of you, twisting and turning. Your shame turns to a feeling of violation as your pussy suddenly feels full of fingers. You squirm about until they suddenly retreat, as if he has finally listened to your pleas. You suddenly hear the unmistakable sound of a rubber glove being snapped on. Your head snaps around in disbelief, but he confirms it verbally - your anus is next. A strong arm to the back sends your chest to the table, you squeal as your breasts squash down on the cool table. The coolness sending shivers through your already emotionally drained body. Your mind inexplicably races back to your first rectal exam, done in your mother's doctor's office. Her old doctor's finger, doing the honors. The humiliation you felt that day, not even close to what you feel now, as you think about the simple fact that at least the old doctor had a medical degree and not a cowboy badge. You feel his finger break your seal, quickly snapping you back from your mind's journey. You cry out for mercy as his finger presses on. Nothing in your 35 years has prepared you for today, as you're back to your whimpering ways. His finger twists and turns until it finally withdraws, and you crash down on the table, an emotional sobbing wreck. You're given a wet nap to clean yourself up, but you mistakenly use it to clean your tear-ridden face, and with some passing time, you're slowly regaining your composure. You suddenly notice him standing in front of your face, his uniform pants doing little to hide his excited state. You scamper into a sitting position, composure lost again, violently shaking your head, fear seemingly shaking the rest of your naked body. You listen as the indecent offer is made. At first, you're aghast, as you're explaining that you're no whore, but when he turns to leave, you surprise yourself by begging him to stay. You look at the clock on the wall and know that you are expected home any minute - time is fast becoming your enemy. You slip off the table; you realize that you have only seconds to make a mammoth life-changing decision. You nervously laugh as you remember that it took you a half-hour just to decide what shoes to wear tonight. Your mind battles with the pros and cons, but ultimately you let a firm hand to the shoulder be your excuse as you find yourself kneeling on the cold cement floor, right in front of the young man. His excited crotch only inches from your face. You know it's a solution to your problems, as perverse as it seems to you. You only hope you have the strength to deliver your end, praying that you will be able to live with yourself, evermore. You reach up with trembling hands and unbuckle his belt and pants, noticing for the first time that he wasn't wearing his gun belt. He crosses his arms, seemingly satisfied with letting you do the work. You unzip his fly, the metal scratching sound causing you to shiver. You work his pants down carefully. When he steps out of them, you toss them aside, but you wonder if it has anywhere near the same significance to him as your pile of discarded clothes did to you. When you look up, you cringe at the sight of his tented boxer-briefs, more at what they harbor. You even contemplate changing your mind as you grab his waistband, but you muster up some courage and pull the material down and off. You stare at the floor, afraid to look up again at what surely faces you now, so you close your eyes and gingerly let your hand find his hard cock, cringing at its first touch. You try to retain your composure as you guide his hard cock to your mouth. You start by sucking on the engorged head, like an inexperienced schoolgirl. You can tell just by the stretching of your jaw and your fingers that he is bigger than you hoped. You manage to take a quick peek, and your eyes confirm it. You try not to be impressed as you cover your teeth with lips and start moving up and down the shaft, all with a whimper. Your mind strangely flashes back to the last time you did this, in your mind, perverse act. It was way back in college and only to join the sorority you pledged. You still remember it all too well. For initiation, you had to submit a picture of a hard cock in your mouth, from a complete stranger no less. Finding one in college wasn't that difficult, although it was extremely humiliating. The stranger wasn't happy with just the picture, however, as he held your hair, fucking your face until he came in your mouth. Your sorority sister, seemingly more interested in taking more pictures than helping you out. You destroyed most of the pictures she took, but not all. The picture of you with cum dripping from your lips got you into that sorority, but its whereabouts still haunt you to this day. You're suddenly startled out of your trance by the deputy's hips driving forward in a face-fucking-like maneuver. You quickly pull back, as it's eerily familiar. He lets you know that he's not happy with your performance so far and that time is not a factor for him. You suddenly remember your plight and vow to do better. This time you attack with more gusto and more hand, but it's quickly pulled away, and you're left with just your lips and tongue to work with. You finally find a rhythm as you think about anything but what you're doing. Trying to focus more on why you're doing it. A palm to the forehead, however, has you looking up into his eyes as you suck his cock. You wonder how his beautiful blue eyes could harbor such wickedness. You continue sucking until you are suddenly pulled to your feet with a swift motion. You are lifted back onto the steel table, this time, however, you're on your back, the cold steel sending goosebumps traveling. Defeated, you lay on the table, trembling with feelings you seemingly had never felt before. Terror and a strange anticipation await as you brace for insertion. You feel your legs spread apart, and you hold your breath as he rubs his cock along your well-lubed pussy before he slowly enters you. You struggle with your emotions, as you don't want to give him the satisfaction. He lifts your legs up onto his shoulders. His awkward early strokes quickly replaced with smooth, aggressive ones. Your head swirls as you fight with your body's reaction, even try to stop the moans and squeaks from slipping from your mouth with every deep thrust. You close your eyes, but it doesn't last - he seemingly wants your eyes as much as he wants your body. He wraps your legs around his waist and picks up his pace. Your breasts suddenly attract his attention for the first time, as he squeezes them in tune with his deepening thrusts. Your nipples are next, as he rolls them in his fingers, their sensitivity level not helping the squeaks of pleasure. He suddenly turns you over; you have a panicked moment as your feet hit the floor, but he thankfully finds your pussy once again, as you sigh. His thrusts, however, seem harder and deeper in this position, your sigh replaced with a squeal. You quickly fill with mixed emotions, as you feel like a cheap whore, bent over the table like so, as he pounds away, and as an added bonus, you even have to groan, "Fuck Me Boss," over and over, per his request. His actions are unlocking waves of pleasure, however, that are becoming increasingly harder to ignore. You suddenly remember that it's been over ten years since anyone but your husband has had your pussy. It's also been years since he had fucked you in such an unbridled manner. You feel ashamed that he can make you feel things your husband can't. You try to put it all out of your mind, but when his hand reaches around and starts rubbing your clit, it's impossible. Your tears return again as you surrender to his lustfulness, your head swimming in euphoria, if only so briefly.His cruel words snap you back to reality as he brags about his prowess, but before you can fret about that, he presses his cock against your lubricant-dripping anus, causing you to scream out a panicked plea as you quickly spin around with fear-filled eyes. You find your way to your knees again. His slimy cock quickly finds your mouth, as you opt to take the lesser of two evils. You realize that as repulsing as this act is to you, and as repulsed as you are that you can taste your own juices, you must. You also now know that you will do anything to avoid an ass fucking. You will even suck and lick his balls, as you find yourself doing, following his next order. He wants you to beg, beg to suck his cock. Your voice quivers as you beg. When he gives you his permission, you give it your best try so far, but the task is not a simple one, as the young man insists on using his hard cock as a tool of humiliation. It's being slapped against your face and extended tongue, and as an added insult, he wants you to beg again, beg for his cum. You finally, after much trepidation, give up the last remaining grain of respectability you have left and beg him to cum, cum on your face. First, however, you have to return to your cock-sucking ways. All too soon, your jaw aches, your knees are raw, as your inexperience has hampered your efforts at a speedy conclusion. Your slurping and drooling ways add further embarrassment. He finally finds your hair a helpful tool in guiding you in the right direction. You start to panic as his increased body movements and audible moans let you know that his climax is fast approaching, and thankfully, he finally stops his face fucking. While you catch your breath, your left, eyes opened, mouth agape, tongue extended, just like a puppy dog awaiting a treat. You suddenly see and then feel the first blast as you flinch away, but a handful of hair keeps you in place, as the remaining syrupy fluid finds its mark. His slimy cock presses against your lips and then finds its way back into your mouth. You gag on the salty-covered treat until he is finally satisfied that your part of the deal is completed. With one eye plastered shut, you are led across the hall into a bathroom. Afraid to even look in the mirror, you splash water on your face before you soap and scrub it clean. You also take the opportunity to wash out your mouth as well, as the aftertaste is less than pleasant and is also a painful reminder of the dastardly deed you just performed. You finally look into the mirror, almost ashamed of the reflection looking back. Your clothes are suddenly dumped on the floor at your feet. You dress in world record fashion before being led to the back door, only thankful that he lived up to his end of the deal. A pat on the back sends you out the backdoor. Your eyes light up when you see your car. You almost find it funny that he has no problem with you driving now. You quickly make your getaway, all while vowing never to drive in this part of Vermont again. You also know that you have a lot more than one little picture now to haunt your everyday. The End	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/22/mindse.txt
55,626	Anonymous (no address provided)	The Assignment	You would think by the year 2008, there wouldn't be any part of the US that would be considered 'back woods'. However, that's not the case. There are still some parts of the Blue Ridge Mountains where it seems like it's still the 1930's. There are areas where families live in remote houses up in the mountains, miles from the nearest neighbor. It is in this area where Penny, the 22-year-old journalism major, decided to work for a small town newspaper. Although Penny was fresh out of journalism school, with visions of latching onto a 'big' story, she had no illusions that she would find one in a remote small town. She was really good-looking with a nicely proportioned body, with breasts and hips that would catch the guys' eyes now and then, but she felt too pressured trying to compete in a 'big city' environment. She preferred a more 'laid back' kind of living. She was somewhat accustomed to a rural upbringing and figured a small town newspaper would be a good starter job for her resume before working her way into something that had a larger circulation. She had started on the Georgetown News in late Fall and, for the most part, her story assignments were relegated to the town meeting minutes and things as mundane as the notices about the meeting times for the local bridge club and public notices. Five months later, she was sitting in a booth at the local restaurant having her morning coffee when a girl about her age walked through the door. The girl was extremely pregnant and looked like she needed to sit down and take a load off her feet. The problem was there wasn't much for seating. The seating area was more about the size of someone's living room, with only a couple of booths and 3 or 4 tables. All the other tables were taken and the other booth was piled high with the previous customer's dishes that had not been cleared. Penny felt sorry for the girl and offered her a seat in her booth. For the girl, it seemed like she had been walking for days, even though her once-a-month coming to town for supplies had started just an hour ago. Penny asked her name and offered to buy her something to drink. At the offer of free refreshment, the girl's face brightened. She thanked Penny and said her name was Jessie. She said that she was just finishing getting supplies for her and her twin sister Mindy. As she sat sipping on her drink, she went on further to say that the two sisters lived in a cabin, half way up the mountain, about 10 miles from town. Jessie said that normally, Mindy would accompany her on these shopping trips but today she just didn't feel up to it. As Penny sat and listened, Jessie opened up more about life up in the woods. She said that she and her sister had moved into the cabin as a place to get away from big city life for a while. Both of them, being the athletic types, loved the outdoors and weren't afraid to be living in the middle of the woods, so far from the nearest neighbor. She said that her and Mindy would take frequent walks in the woods just to see the flowers and various creatures. Their walks usually were timed for just after dinner and it gave them time to unwind for the day. If it hadn't been for her reporter's job, Penny would have thought about doing the same kind of thing. As Penny listened, she also starting asking questions. Things like, "Are you going to be ok, living so far from town, with the baby due so soon?" and "Is your husband helping with things?." At this point, Jessie lowered her eyes and told Penny there was no husband, not even a boyfriend to help, just her equally pregnant sister. When pressed for what happened to the guy that got both of them pregnant, Jessie said "There was no guy and you wouldn't believe how we got pregnant if I told you." By now, Penny felt like she was starting to bond with the girl and had sympathy for her situation. Penny was also puzzled at how Jessie and Mindy could get pregnant without the assistance of a male. Penny chuckled, "Girl, there is no way you can get pregnant without a guy getting involved in some way." This was just loud enough that a few of the other people acknowledged that they had heard this last comment. Jessie's eyes flashed and said, "Keep your voice down. It's bad enough that my sister and I are pregnant but it's worse trying to explain how we got that way. I'll tell you the story, but not here. Come with me and I'll tell you how it happened." As Penny thought about it for a few seconds, she was thinking this is something that she wasn't sure she wanted to get involved in but, at the same time, her reporter's sixth sense kicked in and she smelled a story. With that, Penny accepted the invitation. Jessie said, "Fine, come with me then. You can hear it from my sister as well." With that, Penny and Jessie were out the door to their respective cars. Jessie said she was heading back to the cabin and for Penny to follow. When Jessie said the cabin was in a really remote area, she wasn't kidding. After a couple miles of blacktop, the road turned to gravel, which eventually turned to more like a beaten path through the trees. Eventually they both arrived at the cabin just before dinner. It wasn't much to look at but was not run down. Once out of the car, Jessie motioned for Penny to come inside. As Penny came through the door, she smelled home cooking smells wafting from the kitchen. Despite being almost 9 months pregnant, Mindy had made a nice dinner and was pleased to see that Jessie had brought home someone to talk to. Jessie asked that Penny stay for dinner and that she would tell Penny everything afterward. The dinner conversation stayed light but gave no hint to Penny as to any details, other than to let Mindy know that she was going to explain the sisters' situation. With dinner over, Jessie asked Penny and Mindy to take a walk and they would tell the story along the way. Mindy looked a little apprehensive but agreed to help tell the story. Following a vague path, Jessie and Mindy said that it all started 9 months ago, on an evening such as this. They had gone for one of their usual walks and come across a small meadow with a couple of fallen trees along the edge where they could sit on to rest and relax. It was only a minute later that all three came upon this same meadow. Jessie motioned for them to take a seat on the fallen tree as she continued. "It was in this very meadow, on an evening like this," explained Jessie, "that we were sitting here, enjoying nature, when we heard a low humming sound. It was an artificial humming noise. We could not determine where it was coming from and were about to get up and go back to the cabin when we realized that we could not move. It was like we were completely paralyzed. We could see and hear everything but couldn't move. Suddenly, there was a bright light from above that lit up the whole meadow. As we sat there, the light got brighter and appeared to be emanating from something that was descending from the sky. Soon there was a strange looking ship on the meadow in front of us." At this point, Penny looked over at Mindy is disbelief and was met with a look of fear and trembling. Jessie continued. "As we looked at the ship, we could see a door of some kind open and four humanoid like, but featureless figures come out and approach us. They lifted us up, one on each arm, and walked us into the ship. Once inside, they lead us to a room where they laid us on separate tables like a doctor's examination table. Still unable to move or speak, we watched as more of the beings approached and started removing our clothes. First they unbuttoned our tops and removed them. Then they unzipped and removed our skirts. We were now in just bra and thong panties. They too were removed with equal speed and efficiency. All the clothes were neatly folded and laid on a small cart." Mindy was now visibly shaking with a look of fear on her face. Still Jessie continued. "One of the aliens held a silver device, about the size of a toaster, above our heads and proceeded to hold it above our bodies, moving it slowly from head to toe. It appeared to be taking readings of some kind. Once this was done, three of the aliens started to probe different parts of our body. They were especially interested in our breasts and pussies. One alien bent down to take a closer look at my breasts, feeling the texture and firmness of each. It began to play with my nipple until it became hard from the stimulation. "While all this was going on, another alien was probing my pussy, working soft digits up and down my slit and across my clit. My pussy automatically started to get wet from the stimulation. Even though my mind was saying no, my body was saying don't stop."At one point, I looked over at Mindy and saw that she was receiving the same treatment. "They kept this up for a long time, and I found that my hips were starting to move to meet the invading digits. Finally, I saw one of them nod to another, and the second went to a small cart and brought back a probe of some kind that seemed to resemble a large dildo. The dildo was inserted into my pussy as far as it would go. It left me feeling really full. As soon as it was into me, the alien turned a control and the dildo started buzzing. "I found myself being revolted by this thing, but at the same time, wanting more of it. Its purpose was clear - it was to bring me to an earth-shattering orgasm. In the times when I had my eyes open, I could tell they were making notes about my reactions to the dildo and the stimulation of my nipples." As Penny listened and made notes, she could tell that both girls were quite agitated, but Jessie continued on. "The dildo had been working my pussy for quite some time, and I could feel myself approaching the biggest orgasm of my life, and then it hit like a freight train. The muscles of my pussy clenched down hard on the dildo, squeezing it so hard I thought I was going to break it in half. With this sudden hard squeeze, it was like it had burst and shot out a stream of liquid. I felt my insides coated in this liquid like a fire hose. I remember seeing Mindy's body shudder in what I surmised was what was happening to me." "I must have passed out from the intensity. When I awoke, both of us were sitting on the fallen tree in the meadow, fully dressed, and no space ship in sight. We looked at each other and wondered if we had hallucinated the whole thing. That was 9 months ago, and we have not been back here since." Penny was speechless. She had just sat through an hour's worth of what seemed like an incredulous tall tale and had trouble believing a word of it. It seemed like quite a lot of work to go through to explain being pregnant. Penny thought there must have been some wild party at which the girls had gone, got drunk, had sex, and coincidentally became pregnant. The girls could see the disbelief in Penny's eyes. They had seen it in the eyes of so many others they had told it to that they finally stopped telling it. They told Penny they decided to stay away from other people as much as possible for the next 9 months and just let things play out. Penny decided to chalk it up to a hoax, go back to her car, and go back to town. As she tried to get up, she found she could not move. Her brain was telling her arms and legs to move, but they would not obey. As Penny contemplated her predicament, she noticed that Jessie and Mindy were similarly immobilized. And then she heard it, a low humming noise. It was soon followed by a strong light from above. Soon after, Penny was aware of an alien craft in the meadow in front of her. A door opened, and a number of aliens came over to lead all three girls into the craft. As Penny watched, the two sisters were led to a room that was a combination hospital delivery room and an examination room. The aliens first removed the sisters' clothes, then placed them in the birthing chairs. Penny was next stripped of her clothes and placed on the examination table. From where Penny was, she could see the sisters and what was happening to them. There were a number of creatures moving back and forth between both Jessie and Mindy. Both were injected with something. Soon after the injection, Penny could see that both sisters were in hard labor. The aliens were helping the sisters push by providing external pressure on the sisters' stomachs. Shortly after, Penny could see a shape coming out of each of the girls' pussies. The more the aliens pushed on the sisters' stomachs, the more the babies came out, and the more Penny realized that these were not human babies. With one last hard push, the alien babies were pushed out and caught by one of the alien adults. The babies were then placed in what appeared to be an incubator and whisked out of the room. While focusing on the sisters, Penny had not noticed that her breasts and pussy were being stimulated. She soon realized she was becoming worked up into a sexual frenzy. She looked down toward her pussy and saw a large dildo being inserted into her pussy. She had never had a cock this large in her before, and she felt really filled. It was then that the buzzing in her pussy started. She started moaning uncontrollably, her breathing becoming more and more ragged. The resistance in her mind was fading, and her body's instincts were taking over. She was headed for a massive orgasm, and she knew it was only a matter of time. The extent of how massive it was unexpected. Had she not been restrained, she would have jerked so wildly that she probably would have pulled several muscles. As it was, the hard squeeze on the dildo buzzing away inside her was rewarded with the feeling of a warm liquid being shot into her, generously coating her insides. Her body continued to spasm for 5 to 10 minutes more until she passed out. Penny awoke, sitting on the fallen tree trunk, with the other two girls beside her. She was fully dressed, and it was as if the whole thing was too incredulous to believe that it had ever happened. She was about to dismiss the whole thing as some kind of hallucination when she noticed that neither Jessie nor Mindy looked pregnant. It dawned on her that this must have been some big practical joke and that the girls had never been pregnant to begin with. Their pregnancies had been faked all along, and Penny had been the butt of a big practical joke. The girls themselves stayed in character but seemed like they were in disbelief as to what had transpired. They knew there was no way to explain it and didn't say anything. As Penny walked back to her car, her muscles felt tense, as if she had done a really strenuous workout. As she drove away, she noticed her panties were wet with a white sticky liquid and wondered if she would be seeing the meadow again in 9 months...	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/76/assignment.txt
55,703	Tayla36	Melinda and Grandma Bear - 1	Young Melinda hears her parents having sex and she masturbates to the fantasy of fucking her father. But this time her teddy bear helps. Melinda had learned to masturbate a few months ago. She had seen her parents having sex one night, and as she lay in her bed replaying everything she had seen, she put her hand down the front of her panties and rubbed her little cunt. She had also put her finger up inside of herself and imagined that her father was in the bed with her, doing all the things to her that she had seen him do with her mother. Since that night, she watched her parents very closely. A few times, she saw Daddy rub his hands over Mom's ass as she stood at the stove cooking dinner. And once she saw him back her up against the washing machine. He raised her T-shirt up over her breasts and sucked one of her nipples into his mouth while her mother giggled and tried to push him away. Once she woke up in the middle of the night and heard her mother moaning. She went down the hall hoping she could spy on them again, but their door was closed all the way this time. She stood outside their door and listened. "Oh yes, Frank, Fuck me!! Fuck me hard!!" "Susan, God your pussy's so wet and tight!" "Yes, yes! Slam that big cock into me!" Melinda stood outside the door and listened to her parents fucking. She could picture her father on top, sliding his big cock into her mother while she squealed with pleasure. Again, she had an image in her head of Daddy on top of her, sliding his big cock into her little pussy! She went back to her room so she could rub herself off. She stripped off her nightgown and climbed back into bed and moved her teddy bear out of the way so she could spread her legs and get to her cunt. "Move out of the way now, Grandma Bear." (Her grandmother had given her the bear when she was just a little girl. Her mother told her that at twelve years old, she was getting too big to play with teddy bears, but Melinda still talked to hers when her mother wasn't around. And her mother was definitely too busy right now to worry about Melinda talking to toys.) "Unless, of course, you want to help." Melinda giggled as she picked up the furry toy and clutched it to her naked chest with one hand as the other hand traveled down to her wet little pussy. Melinda's breasts were just starting to grow. They were just small bumps on her chest, not even a handful yet. But her nipples were very sensitive. They were small and pink and right at this moment they were very hard. The soft fur of the teddy bear felt so good brushing over the little nubbins of flesh. She rubbed her pussy harder as she pressed the face of the bear to her breast and pretended that Grandma Bear was sucking her nipple. Her fingers flew faster over her dripping little girl hole. She let go of the bear and left it lying on her chest as she used both hands on her pussy. She pushed two fingers up inside of herself and rubbed her clit in little circles. And, of course, she thought of her father as she played with herself. Her big handsome Daddy and his big hard cock. Oohh, she wished that her Daddy were with her now. Sucking on her little pink nipples and plunging his fingers into her virgin pussy, getting it wet and ready for his prick. She was so excited by this fantasy, that she could almost feel his mouth on her nipple...sucking and licking...pulling the hardened nubbin of flesh into his mouth. Melinda stroked her fingers into her pussy faster and harder. Her breath came in shallow panting gasps. She pressed down on her clit and her thighs clenched shut on her thrusting hand!! She could almost feel her Daddy biting lightly on her tittie as the waves of ecstasy flowed through her little body. She felt her pussy gush as she came all over her hand. Melinda's breathing slowed and her muscles relaxed as she slowly relaxed after her orgasm. She reached down to pull the sheets up over her naked body and snuggled up with Grandma Bear and drifted off to sleep. The little girl didn't notice that one of her nipples was swollen and wet. To be continued...	null	Part One	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/15/bear1.txt
55,720	Norm DePloom	On Becoming A Whore	Yes, I'll admit it, I took advantage of her, but she got what she wanted as well. I watched her, and her two children, several times when I walked from my office down to the little store on the corner. Just the sight of her usually gave me major wood. She was the epitome of a beautiful, ripe woman, with a body that was made for fucking, breasts that were designed for sucking, and a mouth meant only to be a home for cocks. I watched as she, having failed to talk the store owner into giving her credit, spent her last eighty-nine cents on a small package of crackers for her children to share. I tossed the money for my diet Dr. Pepper on the counter and followed her out of the store. "Hi," I decided not to 'beat around the bush' (unless, of course, it's her bush). "I see you need some money." I pulled a crisp, clean one hundred-dollar bill from my pocket. "You're going to give me that?" She asked, almost salivating at the sight. "Not exactly," I answered, pulling the money back. "It depends on how badly you need it." She made no pretense of not understanding what I wanted for my money. She hesitated only briefly, looked down at her two hungry kids, swallowed hard, then answered. "My apartment," She informed me with resigned embarrassment, "is around the corner." Putting the money back in my pocket, I slipped my arm around the young woman and walked with her towards the indicated, not very well-maintained apartment building. "You are a very sexy girl," I told her as we walked. "I've wanted to do this since the first time I saw you." "Thanks, I guess," She answered in a subdued voice. As we walked up the rickety steps that ran up the outside wall of the building to her second-story apartment, I slipped my hand further around her and cupped her firm, warm breast. I could tell she didn't like it, but needed the money too much to risk stopping me. "You two play out here," She instructed her young son and daughter after we had entered the apartment, "while we go into the bedroom for a while." "No," I insisted. "I want you to strip right here." "No," She answered emphatically, looking at her two children beginning to play with their toys in the corner. "I won't do it, not in front of them." She looked back at me. "I'll do anything you want in the bedroom," She pleaded. I pulled out the one hundred-dollar bill and, holding it in front of her face, pulled a second one hundred-dollar bill from my pocket and added it to the first. "No," She repeated, but with considerably less conviction. I stood there, enjoying the moment; we both knew that she was going to end up doing exactly what I wanted, even with her kids in the room. Then I pulled a third one hundred-dollar bill from my pocket to join the other two. I could see her resolve beginning to crumble. "I guess you're not serious," I said sadly as I started to put the money back in my pocket, "about needing to feed your kids." "Please," She said almost inaudibly, with tears welling up in her eyes and streaming down her cheeks, "I'll do anything you want." "Three hundred dollars," I stated my requirements as I set the money down on the end table and sat in the threadbare chair, "for three hours of your time, during which you will do anything I ask." Having this young woman standing meekly in front of me, giving into my every demand as tears of shame and humiliation ran down her red, embarrassed cheeks, turned me on like I'd never been turned on before. My cock felt like it was a titanium rod about to burst through my trousers. "My only promise," I continued, "is that I will not injure you." She nodded her head in agreement, not taking her eyes off the floor in front of her. "Now," I said, setting back in the chair and letting her see the large bulge in my pants, "slowly undress, let me see that hard, sexy body of yours." Her face turning an even brighter shade of red and, with copious tears rolling from her eyes, the woman glanced at her two children, then very slowly lifted her pullover blouse up over her head, revealing her flat, smooth tummy for my enjoyment. Letting the blouse drop to the floor behind her, she reached back and unhooked her bra. Letting the bra slip down her arms, she revealed a pair of breasts even more magnificent than I had imagined, topped by a pair of large brown nipples that were, in spite of, or maybe because of her humiliation, standing up at hard attention. Her nipples were surrounded by peanut butter cup-sized areolas, which were crinkled with excitement. My cock twitched visibly as I stared at her breasts, licking my lips in anticipation of getting my mouth on her nipples. When she pushed her shorts down her shapely legs, I discovered, to my delight, that she was not wearing panties. As she stepped out of her shorts, I stared admiringly at her thick, healthy, untrimmed and very womanly pubic patch. Standing in the middle of the room, the embarrassment of having her naked body stared at with open, unbridled lust seemed to eclipse the humiliation she had felt being forced to strip with her kids in the room. "You can start," I instructed her as I rocked my hips, pushing the bulge of my achingly hard cock up for her attention, "by sucking on my cock." The naked young mother knelt between my knees and, after running her hand up and down over my bulging, trouser-covered hard cock, unbuckled my belt and unzipped my trousers. I lifted my butt from the chair, and she pulled my pants down my legs and, pulling them off my feet, tossed them aside. Despite having her two young kids in the room, the stunningly sexual woman cradled my balls in one hand while she stroked her other hand expertly up and down my eager hard-on. I looked over at the two kids playing a few feet away as their mother lowered her head and sucked my cock between her pouting lips and into her hot, wet mouth. By the time she engulfed me in her mouth, the sexual tension of forcing her to perform in the presence of her kids, as well as the excitement of her stripping to reveal the most perfectly sensual body I'd ever seen, combined with the wet heat of her mouth, caused me to cum with a loud moan, shooting my 'manly essence' over her tongue. To my delight, she swallowed every drop, then gently held my cock in her mouth while she firmly massaged my balls and brought me back to full erection in record time. Apparently, once she had resigned herself to doing whatever was necessary, she started to get into the whole kinky scene. My orgasm-induced moan had attracted the attention of her two kids, who watched with undisguised curiosity as their naked mother climbed up on the chair and, crouching down with her feet on the arms, reached between her legs to grasp my re-hardened cock and guide it into her wet, waiting cunt. I never expected a mother of two to have a pussy as tight as hers. She had obviously been doing her PK muscle exercises, not only was she extraordinarily tight, but she could massage my cock with her cunt muscles in ways I'd never experienced before. Once she had lowered herself onto my waiting pole, she leaned forward and, pushing her lips against mine, forced her tongue almost as deeply into my mouth as my cock was going into her exceedingly wet cunt. While our tongues danced in my mouth, she rode up and down on me, gripping and relaxing her pussy muscles to maximize my pleasure. I was quickly to learn that once this girl became excited, she turned into a demon willing to do anything, anywhere to anyone. Her two kids had dropped their toys and had gathered, one on each side of the chair, to watch their mother at work. "What are you doing?" Her son, the older of the two, asked. The woman broke off our kiss and looked at her son. "I'm fucking him," She answered, all signs of humiliation and embarrassment pushed aside by her overwhelming sexual excitement, "so he'll give Mommy some money to buy food with." The young boy nodded his head in acknowledgment, then wandered back over and began once again to play with his toys. The slightly younger daughter stayed beside the chair and, with her elbows resting on the arm right beside her mother's foot, and her chin resting in her small hands, watched with fascination as her mother's cunt moved up and down on my hard cock. "Oh god, yes, fuck my cunt, you bastard," The mother of the young witnesses yelled, leaning her head back and whipping her hair back and forth as her orgasming pussy gripped my cock like a tight, hot, wet hand.The daughter watched with a concerned look as her mother frantically pumped herself up and down on my cock and yelled for me to fuck her harder. "It's OK, honey," her mother finally said as her orgasm finally began to subside. "I'm just cumming. It's fun, honest." She assured her daughter. Then she leaned forward to rest against my chest as she continued to ride up and down on my cock at a less frantic 'post-cum' pace. "I don't mind fucking you to get money to feed my kids," she spoke softly in my ear as she continued her steady pace fucking herself on my cock. "I just hope I don't end up with another one from this." Ignoring her comment and reaching down between her wide-spread legs, I ran my fingers over her stretched wet pussy lips as they slid up and down my cock shaft. "Your mother's going to cum again," I warned the little girl watching us as the steadily building moans told me that she was beginning to build to another orgasm. I moved my hands, reaching around her legs and, pulling her butt cheeks apart, probed her tight asshole with the tip of my finger. Her orgasm hit high gear, resulting in another round of shouts to be fucked harder accompanied by the most marvelous spasms of her cunt muscles on my cock. "You're really a little fuck monster, aren't you?" I asked her after her second orgasm passed and she was once again resting against my chest while she kept me hard with small rocking motions of her hips and practiced rhythmic tightening of her very talented pussy muscles. "Yes," she answered with a surprising blush, hiding her face against my neck. "Once I get excited, I lose all control of myself." Wrapping my arms around her waist, I leaned forward as she moved her legs off the arms and wrapped them around my waist. Sitting on the edge of the chair, I leaned over and sucked on her nipples while I moved her body up and down on my cock, fucking her faster and faster, deeper and deeper until we both bellowed incoherently and I splashed the inside of her spasming cunt with my cum. I continued to hold her while our bodies relaxed and my softening cock finally slipped from her tight cunt. "Here," I said, picking up one of the hundred-dollar bills from the table, "while I recover, you go buy your kids some food." She smiled, said thank you, then gave me a kiss of genuine affection before quickly pulling on her shorts and her blouse. Once dressed, she left the apartment, leaving me with the kids. No, I didn't fuck or molest her children while she was gone. I pulled on my trousers and, after assuring the two children that their mother would be back in a few minutes with some food, looked around her apartment. It was old and run down, but she kept it clean. I went into the bathroom and, after relieving my bladder, checked out her medicine cabinet. Moving on to the bedroom, I found her vibrator in the bedside table and, under her neatly folded modest white cotton panties, I found a few pictures of her naked, including one 'split beaver' shot. After admiring her beauty and sexuality, which were apparent in the amateur photographs, I pushed them back under her panties and checked her other drawers. I found nothing more of any real interest to me. When I heard her on the stairs, I went back into the living room and met her at the door. She blushed deeply as soon as she stepped through the door and refused to meet my eyes as I took the bag of groceries from her and carried them into the kitchen. Several times while I was helping her fix sandwiches for us and the kids, she started to say something, then would be too embarrassed to continue. I guessed that, her sexual excitement having waned, she was once again feeling the shame and humiliation of what she had just done to get money to feed her kids. Now that she had some food in the house, I wondered if she would try to kick me out instead of honoring our agreement. I contemplated whether I'd want to try using force if she did. Normally, rape didn't appeal to me, but this time, with her, I was almost hoping that she would give me the excuse. "I can't believe," she finally said when we were sitting at the kitchen table eating while the kids were eating in front of the TV in the living room, "I did those things in front of my kids." Her voice was low, and tears were streaming down her cheeks again. "Yes, you had several very noisy orgasms with your kids watching," I reminded her, which seemed to generate more embarrassment and tears. "You," I continued, "have the greatest cunt I've ever fucked." My comments didn't seem to help her guilt feelings. "I can't do it again," she said, standing up. "I want you to leave, I'll give you the change from your hundred dollars." I grabbed her wrist as she reached into her pocket to retrieve the money. "We," I said with a threatening hiss, "have an agreement." I pulled her into my lap and, ignoring both her verbal begging and her attempts to get out of my grasp, pushed my hand between her legs and rubbed her cunt through the material as I leaned over and started to not so gently nibble on her nipples through her blouse. "No," she begged softly, not wanting to attract the attention of her kids, "I can't do it again." Ignoring her pleas, I wrapped my arm around her waist, then picked her up and pulled her shorts down her kicking legs. Once her crotch was bare, I pushed my hand back between her legs and worked my fingers into her still wet cunt. Her kicking in protest just worked her shorts further down her legs until they came off and flew across the room. "NO, please, no..." She continued to beg but with less resolve as her nipple grew hard and her cunt welcomed my fingers. "No," she repeated once more before she suddenly relaxed with a loud whimper and spread her legs as she began showering my neck with kisses and excited nibbles while she tugged at her blouse trying to remove the cloth barrier between her sensitive nipple and my sucking mouth. I pulled my mouth away from her breast long enough for her to frantically pull her blouse over her head, rendering herself once again naked and available for my use. She moaned softly as I swirled my thumb over her clitoris while I kept my fingers buried in her hot pussy. "Yessssss, oh god yessss," she hissed as she rubbed my hard cock through my trousers. "Fuck me again. Fuck me long and hard. Make me your slut." She really did seem to have multiple personalities, the proper mother being replaced by the wanton whore as soon as someone got their fingers on her all too sensitive cunt. Pulling my wet, slimy fingers from her grasping pussy, I stood up, then bent her over the edge of the table. Holding her down against the table with my left hand on the back of her neck, I pushed her legs apart with my foot, then pushed my fingers back into her. "Have you ever been fucked up the ass?" I asked her as I pushed a third finger into her welcoming cunt. "No," she moaned, responding to my fingers inside her pussy and my thumb rubbing her clitoris. "Please don't," she pleaded, panting with excitement. "I don't want to be hurt," she finished as I felt her cunt grip my fingers during a mini-orgasm. "Reach out," I instructed my young whore, "and hold onto the edges of the table." She did as she was instructed while I pulled my fingers from her sodden pussy and pushed one of my lubricant-laden fingers into her tight virgin ass. After transferring as much of her pussy lubricant as I could from my fingers to her anal sphincter, I dropped my trousers to the floor and, stepping out of them, lined my hard cock up with her hot wet cunt. Slipping easily into her, I fucked my cock in and out of her a few times to cover it with her slick, copious fluid. Resigned to the inevitable, the young mother held onto the edges of the table with white knuckles while she waited for me to deflower her virgin ass hole. She whimpered audibly when I pulled my cock from her cunt and lined it up with her rearmost opening. Leaning over, I put my hands on her shoulders and pushed my cockhead against her tight sphincter. She squeezed her eyes shut, and tears rolled out from under her tightly closed lids, a high-pitched squeal emanating from her open mouth as my cock stretched her ass hole open for the first time and slipped past her sphincter muscle. Holding her down against the table, I pushed my hard rod further and further into her reluctant ass while listening to her kids laughing at a cartoon in the other room. "There," I said as my cock reached full insertion into her stretched rear, "it's all the way in." Turning her head, she opened her eyes and gave me a weak smile as I pulled my cock an inch out of her, then pushed it back in. "Just lay there and relax," I told her as I released her shoulders, then slipped my hand back between her legs to finger her cunt and clitoris. "That," she said with a tentative smile, "is easy for you to say." Laughing gently at her joke, I held myself buried inside her and did not start fucking in and out of her ass until I saw signs that she was reacting to my manipulation of her genitals. Once she started responding, I began to move my hips, working my cock in longer and longer strokes as I fucked her virgin ass for the first time. As I fucked her ass harder and harder with longer strokes, the table legs began to move an inch or so back and forth on the floor, making little squeaking noises. I worked her clitoris faster and faster to match my fucking, and she responded, building slowly towards another orgasm. "Oh god," she started her orgasmic screams, "fuck me hard. Fuck your bitch's ass. Make me cum."Holding onto the edges of the table with both hands, she was now forcing herself back on my cock with each of my thrusts, impaling her ass more forcefully on my hard cock. "Fuck your little whore, daddy." She whimpered as she humped herself against my cock. "Oh, fuck me hard, fuck my ass hard, make me cum, daddy." She said again. "Daddy's going to make you cum." I told her as I grabbed her by both shoulders again and fucked my cock into her ass as hard as I could. "Daddy's going to make his little whore slut cum." "Oh god, make me cum, daddy, make your little slut cum hard." "Cum for daddy, slut. Cum for daddy." Then she lifted her head off the table and bellowed gibberish while I held her impaled on my cock and emptied my hot cum into her bowels. I fell forward and laid on top of her across the table while we gasped for air trying to catch our breaths. When my softening cock slipped out of her no longer virgin ass, I lifted myself up, then sat in one of the chairs. When she stood up, I pulled her over to sit in my lap. "Daddy's little slut likes to be forced, doesn't she?" I asked her as I gently ran my hands over her firm young breasts. I could feel her nodding her head against my shoulder and barely heard her whispered 'yes'. "I think-" I said, looking at my watch, "-that I have time for a little break, then one more fuck of that hot cunt of yours before my time is up." She hid her head against my shoulder, and I could feel her blushing. We sat for several minutes, resting while I softly ran my hands over her body. "I have a proposition for you," I said as I continued to explore her firm young body with my hands. "I will pay your rent, and give you one hundred dollars a week for expenses if you agree to be available to me." She listened without replying. "In addition, I will pay you fifty dollars every time I fuck you." She still hid her face against my neck without answering, but when I pushed my hand into her crotch, she spread her legs, giving me access to her cunt. "You'll have to give me a key to the door-" I continued as I worked two fingers into her, "-and I may show up at any time of the day or night-" My fingers slipped into her tight cunt, and I felt her grip them with her amazing muscles. "-when I walk through that door, you have to be willing to drop whatever you are doing and fuck in any way that I want." I moved my thumb in little circles around her clitoris and listened to her soft moaning against my neck. "Sometimes I may call you and tell you to come to my office." I pushed a third finger into her as I continued to rub her clitoris with my thumb. "Your mouth, ass, cunt, breasts, your whole body will have to be available any time I want to fuck." She began to rock her hips gently, fucking herself on my fingers. "OK," She spoke so softly I wasn't sure that I'd heard it at first. "What's your name?" I asked as she continued to fuck against my fingers with slowly increasing force. "Donna," She whispered in my ear, then followed it with her tongue. "You can just call me Daddy if you like." "Oh god, yes-" She replied as she moved her mouth toward mine. "-daddy can fuck his little whore anytime he wants." Our lips met, and my cock began to grow once again. THE END	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/15/whore.txt
55,822	Captain Hook (c) 1994	Your Special Surprise	You're lying on our bed, gently caressing your groin, belly, and breasts. You're smiling at me, with that typical inviting smile that I know so well, after six years of life together. You're spreading your legs wider apart. You say to me, "Come here, hunk." I join you. I start to replace your own fingers on your skin. You squirm, moaning, begging, "Go on, go on, please." I kiss you and touch you deeply. You arch your body and turn your head back to me. You ask again, "Do it, do it, use me, baby." The bedroom door opens. You don't pay attention, completely lost in your pleasure under my hands. A bold, well-muscled man enters our bedroom. He's naked, as we two are. He kneels in front of you, on your side of the bed. You try to scream, but my hand covers your mouth. "It's for you, dear," I say softly, "It's a present." You seem scared, you're trembling. Four hands now run over your peaches and cream complexion. You writhe in a sort of inner pain and seem likely to weep. My voice whispers through your hair, reaching deep down inside you. You are calming now. You close your eyes. Four hands treat you to a unique pleasure, something you've never thought of before. You roll back and forth, you open and close your thighs, writhe on your back, raise your arms, throw your head from side to side. You're lost to the sensations our roving hands are forcing upon you. Then the bold man lies on our bed. I lift your body over his. You open your thighs wide to him, your back to his chest. He's caressing your breasts from behind, he raises your behind and fingers you with one hand. I'm to one side watching and kissing you. Then I take his cock in my hand. I am shoving his big hard cock against your pussy. My hand is wet from your juices. You moan with the new, never before felt pleasure of a strange man. I lean down in between your thighs. I start licking and sucking his cock and your pussy all at once. I drive his tip against your clit with the pressure of my lips. You caress my head, running your fingers through my hair. You're getting really excited now. I push with my tongue - his purple-headed cock inside you. You take a long deep breath, then you start going up and down, up and down, slowly, ever-so slowly, on his strong cock. Now I stand up in front of you. I take your head within my hands and bring your mouth to my cock. You start sucking me eagerly. You suck and lick, going up and down on my shaft, while one of his hands squeezes your nipples and the other hand shoves a finger into your asshole. You moan loudly now. And you writhe your beautiful body. Now I sharply push your body down to the mattress. The bold man stands aside and watches us. You spread your legs. I enter you with a violence you're not accustomed to. You scream. The bold man slides his ass over your face and shoves his big cock down your throat. You try to slow him down, to adjust your head below him. He doesn't care about you. He pushes his shaft deep into your mouth. I push my shaft deep into your slit. You feel used, violated, somehow cheap. You feel a subtle pain. You feel strangled by these two fat cocks that are roughly fucking both your holes. The rudeness gives you a strange pleasure. You feel stretched at both of your openings. You imagine our hot white cum flowing into your holes, and joining and mixing inside your belly. The bold man starts moving his hands on my body. We're facing. We kiss and kiss and lick each other's skin. Suddenly we pull our cocks out of your avid holes. We sit on your body. We touch and caress each other's cocks. He leans on me, and takes my cock in his mouth. He cleans your entire juicy residue, making me squeaky-clean. You start breathing harder, amazed by the scene in front of you. I can hear you. I know you're excited. I see that your hand slides wholly inside your slit. You open it wide, as if trying to tear apart the two lips of your pussy, as if you wished your body to crack in two halves from your groin. We stand up now. We continue to touch and to kiss and take turns sucking each other's red and hard cocks. You start saying in a broken voice, "Don't leave me. Please. Give me your cocks. Both of you! I'm your whore, your slut, use me, come here, fuckin' bastards, gimme your cocks. Fuck me, fuck me, FUCK MY HOT HOLE! FUCK ME FUCK ME FUCK MY ASS!" I jump over you and start fucking your slit with a violence that surprises us both. The bold man comes over my back, and swiftly shoves his cock inside my ass. I squirm. You feel all this, you know what he's doing to me while I fuck you. You wrap your arms around me, with both our bodies heavily over you. You feel me gasping. I scream over you. He screams over us both. We're both ready. Both of us stand up and jerk the final few times needed to come - we spurt two powerful streams of white hot cum over your belly, and your breasts, and your face. Two, four, six hands spread the hot cum all over your tits, face and pussy. Your body trembles as you moan with lust. Your body now is couched on the bed. You're lightly sobbing, your head hidden inside your arms, your legs folded to protect your groin. I go to the door with the bold man. He laughs, "Yeah, man, that was great." I give him some money. "Hey, hey, it's not enough! I wasn't supposed to fuck you too...." Okay, I give him another bill. "Great bitch, really. Is she your wife? Great bitch..." He laughs loudly in the hall. I give him another bill, and push him outside. He doesn't understand. Nobody can. I hope you did. I come close to you, wrap my hands around your body. You are sobbing louder now. "How could it happen? I feel so dirty, such a filthy whore... It's not me, it was not..." "Calm yourself. You were great. You've fulfilled my deepest desires. You wanted our cocks just like we wanted you. It's just natural, nothing wrong." I kiss you. I kiss your breasts. I feel the salty flavor of the cum. Is it mine? Is it his? Does it matter? I turn your body to face me. I caress you. Your beautiful eyes dropping tears that run down your cheeks. I move above you, and push my cock inside you. You seem to resist for a moment, then you open your legs, and put your arms around me. You cry again. "Oh, yes, please, yes. Clean me, please, come in me and clean me up. OH FUCK YES!" I fuck you. I fuck you. I fuck you. You arrive quickly at your climax. I feel your cunt-flesh tighten around my hard cock. It flutters for a few seconds. I'm still holding back. Then your cunt starts sighing convulsively around my cock. One, two, three, four times, then slower, and slower. Before you stop, I start shoving inside you again with powerful energy, I point directly at your cervix, I seem to see it in my mind's eye and shoot at it as if targeting with a gun. Once, twice, three times, four, then faster, and faster, and I spurt a hot flow inside you. "GOD, OH FUCK YES! FUCK ME HARDER!" You're screaming, loudly, like a slaughtered animal. And you scream and scream and scream and it seems impossible that you'll ever stop. In the back of my mind I worry that some neighbor might call the police... Then I fall over your body exhausted. You kiss me softly, hugging me close to you. You whisper in my ear: "I think this was the wildest orgasm I've had with you in six years of marriage." After a couple of minutes we fall asleep, in each other's arms.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/15/surprise.txt
56,015	Deirdre	Swap	You can imagine my surprise when my wife, Amy, told me after we saw an erotic movie together that she found the idea of swinging "interesting." Though I must admit that I sometimes find women besides Amy attractive, I certainly wasn't planning anything. But I was definitely turned on by Amy's interest in illicit sex and was soon contemplating the possibilities. Things got a little more interesting when we went to a party for Amy's coworkers. It was early summer, and it was at the home of one of her coworkers who had a pool. I certainly enjoyed the sight of the women who work in Amy's office, but one struck me in particular: she was tall, thin though not too skinny, with dark brown shoulder-length hair, the look of a world-class model, including an air about her that said she was in control. She was wearing a rather skimpy one-piece that definitely emphasized her best features. I asked Amy who she was, and Amy told me she was Charlotte, who was a secretary in one of the other offices. That placed her below Amy in the pecking order, which was a relief because I might have guessed that she was high up in the company. But things got more interesting when I noticed Amy watching me, and she asked me what I thought of Charlotte. I told her Charlotte was damned attractive, and Amy said she had to admit that Charlotte was about as sexy a woman as she had ever seen, and pointed out that Charlotte's husband, Jay, was a good-looking guy too. I looked over at Jay and could see right away that Amy could find him attractive: he was big and tall and obviously worked out--all muscle and not an ounce of fat. They looked like a couple of the beautiful people in their prime. Well, Amy took me over and introduced me to Charlotte and Jay, and we ended up talking and hanging out together for the rest of the party. It would be natural to say that we immediately hit it off, but I spent a lot of time trying to talk to Jay, and we seemed to be able to discuss sports for a short while, but really had very little in common. But it was pleasant enough watching Charlotte and enjoying the beautiful summer weather. Afterwards, Amy asked me what I thought of the idea of swinging with Jay and Charlotte. It was obvious she knew I'd go for Charlotte. She seemed to be sounding me out on the idea of her getting it on with Jay. It did bother me a little, but Charlotte's sex appeal, and the fun of having a wife "into" sex-games, easily overcame my reservations. Amy said that she had had the idea all along that Charlotte and Jay were rather "free," sexually speaking, and she suggested inviting them over for dinner. Not aiming for anything the same night: just to see how things go and lay the groundwork for the future. So she invited them over. Amy and I dressed up to be our sexiest, and it was strange having Amy being insistent about what I wear to make the best impression on Charlotte. Charlotte showed up in a little white dress, classy and sexy, that made Amy look like a schoolgirl. I could tell that Jay was dressed just right to pique Amy's interest. Once again, I really didn't have that much to talk about with Jay, and we sort of manufactured conversation about sports and cars. Charlotte's conversation really wasn't any more interesting, but the way she talked and looked around at us all drove me crazy! Afterwards, Amy was as ready as ever to get together with them, but we both knew we were too chicken to bring up the subject with them. Well, they did invite us over their house for dinner to return the favor, so we still maintained hope that something might develop. Well, it developed much sooner than we anticipated: before dinner and after a couple of pre-dinner drinks, Jay announced that they had the idea that we were interested in swinging. Suddenly I couldn't breathe--it was too soon, too sudden. I looked at Amy, and she looked at me, and we realized that this is what we had been shooting for, so we had best plunge right in when we had the chance. "Well, it sounds interesting to us," I said, trying to remain cool. Jay said that they would go along with it, but under two conditions: that Amy and I strip first, and that we go along with whatever they tell us to do. Jay was standing, leaning against the mantle, and Charlotte was leaning against him with his arm around her. His arm was around her back with his hand on her hip, and he patted it a couple of times. I looked at Charlotte's hip. Again, Amy and I looked at each other, this time confused. I wasn't sure if she would go along with that idea, and wasn't sure I wanted to either. We ended up trying to talk to each other with our eyes and faces, and I suspect we were each trying to avoid making the decision ourselves, but once again, we ended up agreeing to try it. "OK," I said. "OK," said Jay, "Let's see you two take off your clothes." Charlotte walked over to me and started unbuttoning my shirt. She had this little smirk on her face that I wanted to wipe off by shoving my cock right into her. I glanced over at Amy: she was looking at Jay as if she were hypnotized, and with a glance at me to confirm that I was actually getting undressed, she started taking off her clothes. Charlotte only had to get my shirt half-way unbuttoned, and I took over the job of undressing myself, and soon there were Amy and I, naked as the day we were born, standing there in front of Jay and Charlotte, still dressed to kill. Charlotte finally took my hand and led me to a small table and told me to lie down with my stomach on it. I gave her a funny look. Then Jay reminded us of our promise, and Charlotte put her hand on my ass, just holding one cheek. I lay down as requested. It was a rather embarrassing position, with my body on the table, my head and arms hanging off one end, and my legs and ass hanging off the other. She massaged my rear, but Jay and Amy just watched. I looked back at her as best I could. She finally took a small dildo, covered it with lubricant, and started pushing it into my ass! My cock had gotten hard, and if embarrassed, I must admit that I was still finding some excitement in the situation! Then Jay came over, knelt down beside my head, and quick as a flash, I discovered Charlotte and Jay had clicked handcuffs on all four of my limbs, tying me to the table! I was opening my mouth to protest when Jay inserted a ball gag in my mouth and attached it with a strap around my head! Then Jay went around behind me and began working the dildo! Charlotte walked over by Amy and whispered something to her. I couldn't see Jay very well, but I could see Amy and Charlotte. Amy looked amused! I couldn't believe she would see humor in my complete humiliation! Jay pulled the dildo out, and I realized that he was unzipping his pants! I looked over to the girls, and once again, Amy looked like it was all a good joke! Charlotte, who was still dressed, had her arm around Amy with her hand resting on Amy's hip just like Jay's had been on her own hip before. Then I felt Jay touching my asshole! "Should I?" I heard him say, and I couldn't believe it as I watched Amy give her head a nervous little shake of "yes"! She was still smiling! Jay plunged his cock right into me, and I thought I would die! I was still watching the girls, and Charlotte had lifted her hand to finger Amy's nipple, and Amy, who was staring right at Jay, looked like she was getting excited! Charlotte led Amy out of the room. Jay just finished up in my rear, undid my arms and legs, cuffing my hands together (he was strong, and there was no overpowering him), and walked me into a bedroom. Amy and Charlotte weren't there. He managed to tie me face down, spread-eagled on the bed, and proceeded to finger my asshole again, pushing his finger in with lubricant. He also slapped my ass now and then, and he had a hard slap, and it really stung. Finally, he got on top of me and impaled me again, holding his cock in my ass for a full 15 minutes before squirting his cum into me. I could hardly believe this was happening to me. After a rest, he untied me and stood me up. He was as naked as I was. I didn't run--I was exhausted, and there seemed no point in it anymore.He took me out in the hall and led me to a door to another bedroom where I looked in and saw Amy and Charlotte. Charlotte was still dressed, and Amy was tied spread-eagled on the bed, face down, just like I had been. Charlotte never looked at us, and I'm sure Amy didn't know we were there. Charlotte untied Amy and told her to kneel on the bed. Amy got up, standing on her knees, and put her hands on top of her head, facing away from us the whole time. Then Amy said, without any prompting from Charlotte at all, "Please whip me, Charlotte." Charlotte had a little leather belt, and she let Amy have it right on the ass. Amy jerked and made a little squeak but didn't scream. Then she said, "Please whip me again, Charlotte!" There was desperation in her voice. Charlotte did it again. Amy continued asking the same thing, again and again, and her voice grew hoarser, and it was easy to see she was getting really excited. I was still standing in the doorway, and Jay was standing behind me, but he had reached around me and held my cock and was stroking it as I watched Charlotte and Amy. I was growing hard before I even realized this was happening. Finally, after fifteen or twenty whips, Charlotte said, "That's enough!" Amy knelt there quietly in the same position for a little while, then finally said, "Please let me lick you, Charlotte." "OK, lie on your back, you little slut," said Charlotte, and once again, Amy managed to change positions in such a way that she never got a chance to look my way. Once she was on her back, staring at the ceiling, Charlotte knelt over her so Amy's face was inside the skirt of her dress. Amy immediately put her hands on Charlotte's ass and obviously pushed her face tightly into Charlotte's pussy. I'd never seen Amy so driven. Charlotte was quiet for just a little while, then was making "mm" sounds, and soon was breathing hard and moaning. I realized that Jay was pushing his cock into my ass again as I stood there! I was rock hard and about to come, and Jay was still stroking me! Charlotte and Jay and I all came at the same time, then I collapsed against the door frame, holding myself up. Finally, Jay led me away, took my clothes and me, and pushed me out the back door. There I stood, and in a second, Amy was there with me too, both of us locked out, getting dressed as fast as we could. We drove home without a word, went to bed, snuggled, but were fucking our brains out within five minutes. The next morning, Amy said she thought maybe we could find a couple who were more compatible with us than Charlotte and Jay. I was amazed she wasn't turned off by the whole idea of swinging! But I was thankful to hear that she wasn't--I was satisfied that it would be highly unlikely that the next couple that we tried it with had ideas like Charlotte and Jay! I was curious about how Amy and Charlotte would treat each other at work. I asked Amy after the work-week had started, and she told me that Charlotte had told her in no uncertain terms that Amy and I should wait for them in our own house the following Friday! According to Charlotte, we were to unlock the front door, strip, and be standing at attention with our hands on top of our heads, facing away from the front door at 10 PM exactly! And Charlotte said they were bringing friends! Both of us could hardly believe they thought we'd still be interested. Amy and I have deliberately planned to go to a movie on Friday that would have us out of the house at 10 PM. But somehow, I know we're going to find an excuse to walk out of the movie and get home before 10...	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/64/swap.txt
56,062	Linda Gray	A Girl Dog	Yes, I know this is sick. Looking back, I don't know why I first did it. I guess I was very horny at the time, hadn't had a man for over a year back then. Well, it started out with me giving the dog a bath. I noticed his long, pink cock standing out as I bathed his chest and abdomen. After a while, I got bolder and took his cock into my hands and gently stroked it. The dog didn't object, in fact, he seemed to like it. He stepped out of the tub and sat in front of me so I could get a better grip. I gently stroked his pink pud up and down. After a lot of thought, I lowered my face to his 11-inch rod. I pretended that it was a guy's dick except thinner. I gently sucked his throbbing rod in and out of my mouth. That was beginning to get me hot, so I stripped off my T-shirt and shorts and began rubbing the crotch of my panties as I sucked him faster. I took my head away from the dog's prick after I felt the wetness of my crotch soaking through my panties. I lay back on the floor and pulled my knees up to pull my panties off. As I tossed them to the floor a few feet away, the dog came up and started sniffing at my muff. His nose tickled my erect clit, and he seemed to like what he smelled. I spread my legs apart to see if he would lick me. He backed away at first, then sniffed some more, then finally began to lap at the folds of my pussy. I reached down with one hand and spread my pussy lips for him so he could really dig in. With my free hand, I gently pinched and squeezed my rock-hard nipples. I began to moan as the dog continued to lap at my hot hole. He brought me to climax as I moaned with pleasure. It didn't take long because his tongue was rougher than a human's, which added a lot of extra stimulation. I stood up to get dressed, and as I did, the dog jumped up and put his paws on my waist and began to hump my leg. I took this as a sign that he wasn't through with me yet. I figured I had gone this far, I might as well let him fuck me. I had never had such a large cock before, but I figured since it was thinner than a guy's, it wouldn't hurt too bad. I felt that since the dog got me off, it was only fair to let him get off as well. So with that, I said to him, "Well, stud, I'm your bitch now! Better fuck me good!" I reached down and took his hard shaft in my hands and stroked it a little. He started to move his hips and basically fuck my hand. I got down on my hands and knees and called him over. He didn't need any more help. He climbed on top of me and wrapped his front paws around my waist and started pumping. I reached back with one hand and spread my cunt wide. With the other hand, I guided his long cock into my burning bush. As soon as he was in, I came again. It was fantastic. I had never had an orgasm like that in my life! He pumped his rod deeper and deeper into me until I could feel his rod deep within me. He seemed like he couldn't get enough! I came twice more before he stopped. What a surprise, I didn't know at that time that we'd be hooked together for another half hour. Now I know better, but I still let him get his knot in me, it feels better that way, and I don't mind the wait afterward so much.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/03/girldog.txt
56,159	Cynthia B_ _ _ _	Dog Rape	You'd be surprised how many women and their dogs have sex. My Sam is a great lover. The story that I am about to relate really happened to me last summer. I am not lying to you. I was in the backyard of my house one summer day, lying naked by the pool as I usually do. (I live on 40 acres, and no one is around.) With the warm summer sun baking my naked body, I started to get a little turned on. The warm sun, a cool breeze, and a couple of drinks will do that. :) I have had a relationship with my dog Sam for quite some time, and we are both very in tune with each other's needs. I called Sam over to me while I was laying by the pool, and he came up to me between my legs and proceeded to lick me. After a short while, we walked out to the lawn (the pool deck is kind of hard to kneel on). I bent down on all fours so Sam could mount me. Sam came over to me and jumped up on me, starting to hump me as he usually does. I felt his cock ramming in and out of me, and then I felt his knot pop inside of me. I knew we were tied. After a few minutes, he slid off of me and turned around, as all dogs who are tied do. I could feel his cock pumping his hot liquid into me, with each jerking spasm I could feel another load of his cum shooting into me. I, of course, was masturbating away, as I usually did. Sam's cock (when fully erect) is about 8 inches, not including the 3-inch knot. Having that much cock inside of you has to be the best feeling in the world. After about 25 minutes, Sam started to go soft on me and eventually slid out of me. I turned over and lay on the grass, watching his cum run out of me. That's when it happened. I heard a rustling in the bushes behind me as I turned around, and three other male dogs emerged from the bushes - a Lab, a mutt, and a Great Dane! I must admit I was scared, lying there naked. I figured they must have caught my scent or have seen Sam fucking me! I started to get up from the grass, but as I did, the Great Dane grabbed me from behind and started humping me! I tried to fight him off, but he was too big and too strong. I felt his cock enter me, and I became even more terrified! He was HUGE! I reached back to get him out of me, and the dog forced my shoulders to the ground. He entered me time and time again; he must have been at least 10 inches, with his knot being as big around as a ripe orange. As he fucked me, the other 2 dogs kept trying to mount me anywhere they could. Sam tried to fight them off of me, but he was too tired from his experience with me. After the Great Dane tied with me, all of my strength to fight him off had gone, so I decided to enjoy this experience. I had never had a cock that big in me before, and it did hurt, but because he had stretched me to the limit, I could feel every vein in his cock. I could actually feel his cum shoot down his long shaft and then into me each time it happened. At this point, the other 2 dogs were overcome with excitement, and I could tell they wanted me next. The mutt found his way under me and started licking me, which I enjoyed very much. The Lab came up to me, so I started jerking him off while the Dane kept pumping his load into me. I started to get more turned on by the minute...I was getting raped by three dogs!!! The thought of it excited me to no end!! After the Dane had finished with me, he pulled out and licked his cum out of me, and as soon as he stepped away, the Lab hopped on me and started humping away! He was determined to have me next. It was easy for him to enter me since the Dane had stretched me and left me soaking!! The Lab pumped away, and I felt his knot slipping in and out of me until it finally grew big enough to get stuck in me. At this point, Sam was really getting pissed and tried to defend me again, but I told him to stay and sit. He did and continued to watch his mistress getting mounted over and over again by these three strange dogs. After a while, the Lab finally slipped out of me. I was totally exhausted at this point (this had been going on for over an hour now), but I thought it was only fair to give the mutt his chance in me also. Now, before I describe this experience, I must describe the mutt. He was a mix of what I have to guess as Mastiff, Dane, and Lab. He didn't look as large as the Dane in size, so I didn't pay much attention to him. Well, he came behind me and grabbed onto me with his front paws and started to mount me. I decided to make this quick as I was getting tired, so I reached back to help him into me and speed things up. When I reached back to grab his cock, I got the surprise of my life! He had the biggest cock I had ever seen in my whole life...he was almost the size of a small horse!! He must have been at least 5 inches around and 11 inches long, and his knot was the size of a softball! I guided him into me as quickly as I could, but I held back the knot. (If that got in me, I thought it would kill me.) I held onto his knot and thrust him into me again and again until he reached his full size. I thought to myself I had already had enough cock in me for one day, so I slowly pulled him out and turned around so I could see this beautiful cock of his. My god, was it huge! I decided to let him keep cumming as long as he could, so I lay on my back and let him cum all over me while I rubbed it on my body and genitals. He kept shooting load after load onto me. I would have to guess he came close to enough to fill an 8-ounce soda bottle. After he finished cumming on me, he went soft, but he came over to me and proceeded to start licking his cum off of me. When he started doing this, the other 3 dogs (including Sam) started helping him, and I came one last time in a tongue bath by these dogs. After they finished, they ran off into the woods, never to be seen again, and I collapsed onto the grass next to Sam. I hope they return someday. :)	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/03/dogrape.txt
56,853	jeddack1982	For Oona	You hurry into the hotel lobby, almost at a sprint, slowing down just as you come into sight of reception. Nervously, you approach the counter; after some pleasantries, you give them your name, and they pass you an envelope. Opening it, you find a keycard and a piece of paper with a number on it: 57. Butterflies in your stomach, you ask for directions and are shown down a corridor to your room. Stepping inside, you shut the door behind you and look around. Just a normal Travelodge room - double bed, a TV, a couple of chairs, a desk, and an ensuite bathroom. On the bed is a note and some handcuffs - you scan the paper quickly, making sure you understand the instructions before you open your travel case. You hurry to the bathroom, shedding your work clothes as you go; you don't have much time. In the bathroom, you apply heavy black eyeliner, tie your hair into a ponytail, check your body for spare hairs, and get into your leather basque, snapping sheer black stockings into the suspenders. Finally, you pull silky crotchless panties up your legs. A once-over in the mirror, and you're fine; you race into the bedroom - 1 minute left. You switch the overhead light off and turn on the two lamps, clearing your clothes tidily into your suitcase and placing it in the wardrobe. One last look around at the now tidy room, and you step into the corner, facing the wall - snapping the handcuffs around your wrists behind your back. You wait. You wait for what seems like an eternity; you can hear your breathing, the basque tight against your chest. You might have done the handcuffs up too tight - your hands are beginning to tingle. There's a beep and the slide of metal on metal; the door to the room opens. You hear footsteps on the carpet; they get near and stop. Then a gentle rustle of clothing. And then silence again. You dare not turn around. Your heart is pounding; you're really doing this. After months of emails back and forth, you couldn't hold out any longer. Your impatience was too much; you'd thought about this moment for so long. And now here you are. Giving yourself to him. "Come here. Slowly," - a rich voice piercing the silence in the room. You jump; you've not heard his voice before this moment - you'd not even seen him before. But still you came. You turn, slowly, head bowed, until you're facing the source of the voice. Deliberately, one foot after the other, you step forward until your averted eyes see his shoes... "Look at me," the voice says. You slowly bring your head up, taking in his body until you're looking into his deep, powerful eyes. You've never gazed on them before, but something in you finds comfort in them, a warm embrace from the wisdom within. "Why were you late? Do you have an excuse?" You'd left your house early, sneaking out before your partner could catch you stuffing your bag with the things you would need for tonight. You only had a 20-minute drive ahead of you, but the motorway was a car park. Speeding the final mile, you'd only made it to the hotel a minute later than told to. You shake your head. "What was that? Speak, pet." "No." "No, what?" "No, sir," you tremble. "Come closer so I can touch you." You move forward so you are stood between his open legs. He stands into your eye-line and puts a powerful, hot hand to your cheek, running it down your face to your neck, soft but electric on your skin. "I'm glad you dressed as we agreed. Now turn around." You turn on the spot, and you can feel those eyes sweeping over your body, taking in every inch. "Your tardiness cannot go unpunished. How do you suggest we deal with you?" Your mind blanks... "Present yourself." Your mind races for a second until you realize you've discussed this. As your master sits back down, you turn back to the chair and bend over it and over his lap, your arse in the air. Staring at the door to the room, the light in the corridor blinks in the peephole as other hotel guests walk past, oblivious to your presence. You blush all the same. That same, firm hand runs down your back, tracing your spine through the leather until it reaches the cleft between your buttocks; a light squeeze of the left one, and a gentle caress. Without warning, the hand is withdrawn and returned with a strong slap, the sharp sound of the smack echoing in your ears and the small room. You yelp first from surprise and then from the sting in your left cheek. "Keep quiet, pet." Another caress on the now hot arse; another slap; another yelp, this time more of a whimper. "Better," - his approval releases a little shiver of pleasure through you. He spanks you three more times, each accompanied by a soothing caress. Your arse cheek is hot, flushed with blood rushing to the surface to meet his hand. By the fifth stroke, you're fidgeting, silently willing him to favor the other cheek with the same ministrations, but it never comes. "Up." You rise unsteadily, unable to use the hands still cuffed behind your back. He watches as you back up off the arms of the chair and into a crouch before straightening your legs, your leather-clad tits pushed out in front of you. "Can I trust you to never be late again, pet?" he asks softly. "Yes, sir," you reply, mindful of your still-stinging posterior. "Take position number 2." You walk over to the bed with some confidence and once more bend at the waist, your ass in the air. You spread your legs wide, welcoming his inspection, your pussy starting to leak in anticipation. He makes an approving chuckle and then moves to you. You can feel the heat from his leg as he stands next to you, inspecting what is now his. "You have shaved recently. Good," he says as he reaches through the gaping gusset of your panties to lightly cup your mound, a whimper escaping your lips. "Shhhh." He pulls his hand away, your stickiness clinging to his hand. "Position 3." You push yourself onto the bed with your legs, sliding along the duvet. You tuck your legs under your torso and lift your arse in the air, inviting him in. "Position 4." You roll onto your back, your weight pressing down on your cuffed hands; you spread your legs. "Position 8." Shit! What is it? Weren't there only seven positions he'd told you about? Is there an eighth? "Position 8! Quickly now!" It's gone... You can't remember it at all. You look at him in panic. How can you have forgotten this one? You only looked over the list this morning. "Do you not know position 8?" "No, sir," you mumble. "Speak up!" "No, sir," you almost sob out. "We're not off to a great start, are we, little one?" "No, sir," you say, dropping your head back onto the bed and staring at the artexed ceiling. "I guess I have no alternative then. Position 2. Now!" You once more roll onto your stomach and scoot off the bed backwards until your bare feet touch the floor, spreading yourself wide. Not daring to look, you hear him walk to the wardrobe to find your bag, unzipping it and searching inside. "At least we have followed some instructions properly today," he says. "Everything that I asked for is here." You wait for ages - he's staring at you. All sorts of things running through your head. If my partner could see me now... Well, this is real now! But what a rush of endorphins! It feels right already. You feel his finger run down your arse, lightly brushing your asshole before dipping between your moist lips and playfully flicking your clit. "Tell me what this is." There's a swish and a huge thwack as your right arse cheek explodes in a flash of pain. A large area of your bottom stings. "Well, what is it?" "Paddle, sir." "That's right, pet. Now I want you to count." THWACK! "One." THWACK! "Two." THWACK! "Three." You count to ten - this time both cheeks get equal attention. Your arse is burning, your pussy squelching every time you fidget under a blow. You hear a tube being opened, and something cool is squirted onto you as he massages the moisturizer you brought into both rosy globes stuck out behind you. "Well done, pet; I hope your first taste of discipline was to your taste?" You nod against the duvet, resisting the urge to thank him profusely... Another rustling of the bag; you can smell your damp crotch now, spilling the smell of sex into the room. "Tell me what this is." A swoosh followed by a painful hard crack against your ass makes you let out a short scream. "Quiet! You will be punished in silence." Swoosh, crack! You scream again. "Tell me, quietly, what it was?" Sobbing, tears forming in your eyes, you burble "The crop." "The crop what?" Swoosh! Crack! "The crop, sir!" you scream. "I warned you to be quiet," he says, stroking your swollen arse. "If you cannot be silent, I shall make you."In one swift movement, he pulls your panties down, makes them into a ball, and shoves it in your mouth, the tang of your cunt washing across your tongue. With equal speed, he undoes one suspender and draws a stocking down your leg, bringing it up to your head and tying the makeshift gag in place. Taking the other stocking off, he ties one end to your ponytail and the other to the cuffs; your head is tied back, and you can feel a small draft on your exposed pussy and asshole. Swoosh... Ten times the crop fell on your arse; ten times the swoosh and the crack. Ten times a muffled scream into your panties, your juices mixing in your mouth, filling your nose. As you stare at the headboard of the bed, your head tugged back by your ponytail, you realize you're helpless - you've given yourself to this man. You are his. His to do with as he pleases. Lost in your thoughts, you fail to realize the crop has stopped, the room turning back to silence. You've been crying with the pain, your tears soaking into your gag. Blinking, you feel fingers on your pussy lips; a light stroke of your clit; two fingers inside you. You moan at the invasion, the long fingers going knuckle deep. They pull out, and you push yourself backwards, trying to keep them inside you; a hand spanks you to stop you. The fingers grasp one of your lips and suddenly there's a pinch - you can feel it stretching. You feel his fingers manipulate something, and then they go - but the pinch and the stretch remain. You can feel a small tug on your suspender belt - he's clamped your lip and tied it up! Another caress of the other lip; two fingers deep inside you; another pinch and a stretch - and suddenly you're wider open than you've ever been. "You will get three more strokes of the crop. No more." Relief; it's been the most pain you've felt in a long time. You feel the leather tip of the crop slide up your left leg and down your right leg, teasing you. Suddenly it comes down - right on your thigh. You scream; you see stars - but you feel something pop down there, like a switch being thrown. You feel a heat rising in your belly. You feel the crop on your feet, tickling them; suddenly it bears down on you once more, catching your asshole full. Yet the heat inside you rises, feeding off the scream being blocked by your panties. "Last one, my pet," sir says. You tense as you feel the crop yet again - but it's a little different this time. It traces the contours of your arse until it finds your pussy and pushes in, its rough texture and hardness telling you it's the handle. He strokes it in and out of you, your wetness spreading along its length, sluicing out onto the bed. He pulls it round and places it under your nose, pushing it into your face, pussy juice dripping from your nose. He takes it in hand and with one last swoosh brings it down on your clit - and your world explodes... END	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/81/foroona.txt
56,987	1994 Dream Weevil (no address provided)	Nature's Call to Duty	You remember a time when it was all different. When men and women were considered "equal," and your grandparents or great-grandparents tell you of days when it was quite the opposite. And you wonder, from time to time, whether or not this is progress, an accident, or the way Mother Nature had intended it all along? Everyone has the fear, from time to time, of never meeting someone special from the opposite sex. You first questioned yourself when you noticed that others your age had girlfriends already, some married, some beginning to build families around themselves. For you, those were cruel, hormone-driven times, times when you would have cried from the loneliness if you weren't a man. And then you met her, and you were glad -- so very glad -- that those times were over and would never return. Her body so strong and sleek, and her hair so wonderful, and a voice that picks you up every time you hear it, even over the phone. You slowly untangled yourselves from the anxieties of that first meeting, and soon could talk with increasing freedom, and it wasn't long after that until the first day that she shed out of her clothes before you, and you could touch her in places you always hoped you might, and you felt how warm and soft and wonderful she was. Soon enough, sex was easy; you had it all the time, her body familiar to you; and, to your surprise, your own body more familiar to her than it had ever been to you; the touch of her fingers able to change your mood, or to silently persuade you to get her another glass of water. You loved the fact that she was becoming so free with you. She started teaching you of things that only a woman would know -- letting you know with secret, special messages that her period was coming, and soon you knew her cycle as well as she did. She would discuss, or share anything, nothing embarrassed her; she'd leave the bathroom door open at all times. When she was sitting on the toilet, you watched her, and she spread her legs so you could watch her pee, and you did. To you, it was no casual interest -- you got down on your knees, putting your head between hers, to get a look at the beautiful, golden waterfall that her body had always hidden from you. And she spread a bit wider to let you get closer, and before her bladder was even empty, she noticed something you didn't: your erection. Then she knew who, and what you were, and although it hadn't quite been her expectation, she was pleased with it. She was less available than usual for the following week; doing some research, bringing home some books that she wouldn't let you read, at least yet. The following weekend, she asked you to lie down -- face up -- on the middle of the bathroom floor, which was cold because she had removed the rug. You weren't quite sure why you complied with her, why you didn't ask; inside, you were hoping, maybe, that she'd do what she did. When she walked into the bathroom and put one foot on either side of you, you knew what was coming, even if you didn't believe it. You were fascinated by what you saw; the dark recesses between her legs, the furry patch just in front, the underside of her breasts, even the bottom of the foot which lifted over you as she straddled you. Then you were awestruck by the shape of her body, as she lowered herself down, how the curve of her back was so smooth as it continued to her creamy bottom and to the underside of those legs. She's not a frail woman -- those legs, muscles tightened to hold her in her squatting position -- are so big, so strong! Although she's fit, you were impressed at how substantial the female body is -- especially from this point, where you feel so small. And her pussy! You can smell it from here, so close, right over your chest. The thought is so strong -- if only she'd move back a bit, you'd caress her so gently with your tongue that she'd explode right away... Then the fateful realization: she's entirely motionless, and the room is silent. Something is happening above you; some of her muscles tightening, others relaxing, her shape changing ever so slightly as all of her safeguards are released. The point of no return; she has the same posture, the same attitude, the same expression that she has -- when she's starting to go to the bathroom. Only she's not sitting on the toilet. You panic, but can't move -- you don't know what to do -- and then it's too late: her pussy lips burst open, and yellow liquid falls and splatters and sprays towards you, and when it gets there it's hot and tingly and almost slimy. You open your mouth to say something -- you're not sure quite what, and she tilts her hips forwards and sprays it into your mouth and nose, your hair and eyes and chin, and then the other way until she gets your cock and your legs, and then straight down again, direct from her pussy to your sternum, making her puddle bigger and hotter until, finally, she is done. She didn't get up right away. She looked down upon you, but it wasn't the same look; something about the relationship was different. She smiled, though, feeling a tingle in her loins she had never felt before. She let you soak in her piss as the last few drops fell away from her. Her pussy looked down upon you, too; and it was proud of what it had done-- reduced a strong, full-grown man to a puddle of girl-piss. She let you wash up -- yourself and the bathroom floor -- yourself. Her scent didn't seem to come off. And though you didn't speak of it, things weren't the same. Her chemistry was inside you; the bond between you as strong -- if not stronger -- than ever. But you weren't equals; you served her, you served that pussy that pissed all over you. She did it again -- in the bathtub, underneath her in the shower, before she started making you drink from her. And you did, placing your mouth right up against that all-so-smug pussy, taking cues from the touch of her fingertips as to when to approach and when to swallow and when to lick her dry. And you both thought it was great fun, even when she teased you. You didn't even really need that touch; you knew what her body needed, and were always there to please it. When you were at that huge, outdoor concert and you teased her about how you had remembered to use the bathroom before leaving the house, and how long that line was for the women's portapotties was, she took you aside and touched you on the back of the neck, and then her skirt surrounded your head, and then her bladder was empty while yours was suddenly full, and you were in more of a panic than she had been; and she only laughed -- harmlessly -- when you had your accident with pee that was originally hers. You finally overheard what she knew you to be, as she talked with her friends: "my pussy slave." Although she could have easily sunk you into deep, permanent humiliation -- you would have done anything for her-- she didn't. Her friends had their own pussy slaves. It was the new way; it was progress. Finally, she took your sperm, and conceived a child she was more a part of you than you knew -- her piss, her hormones, her desire flowing through your arteries, changing you. You tested her control only once, over something stupid. There was no contest. The force of her thought could drop you to the floor, and when she pissed into you this time it was stronger than ever, stinging, flowing right to your brain as she washed the resistance from you. And then you could not ever imagine disagreeing with her again. As her belly swelled, her chemistry changed, and her pussy ensured that yours did, too. When you pointed out how her breasts were growing, she pointed to yours; immature organs just now freeing themselves from your chest hair and any masculinity you might have had. Your nipples were clearly swollen. You nearly freaked out. "Pregnancy hormones," she said. "That's what supposed to happen. Otherwise, how would you feed our baby?" You stared in the mirror at yourself, brushing your fingers over your chest, noticing how more of the hair fell away. She could not possibly be serious. You wondered, however, if it made sense; if this is what she meant when she told you how the old stereotypes were no more. You even stared at yourself, in profile, trying to determine if any of these changes were showing. You tried to will the swelling away; to ignore it. It was too late. Freed from their testosterone-induced dormancy, awakened by the hormonal messengers given you by your pregnant mate, the breasts fed on your energy, swelling, stretching outwards, preparing. With only two weeks to go, she brought home a "surprise" for you. It was a bra.You resigned yourself to never go outside again; you had already found it near-impossible to hide these breasts, the size of a teenage girl's. In another week, they had swollen to the size of an adult woman's, and then, as your milk glands prepared to function, they grew to the size and weight that only a nursing mother would have. She is pleased at that; pleased that you'll be able to stay home and care for the baby while she pursues her career and gets ready for the next pregnancy. And here you are: holding her hand as she bears down for the second stage of labor, feeling her effort. She tells you that many of the changes will be temporary; that your bosom will 'probably' diminish after the baby is weaned, that your dormant sex organs will reappear, someday, when she needs them. And the pussy, the one that enslaves you to this existence, waits to bring another master into your world.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/78/naturescalltoduty.txt
57,000	Terri Madison	Sloppy Seconds	You have barely gotten the door locked behind you when you hear the commanding voice out of the darkness. "Stop!" Your hand freezes in its search for the light switch. "Strip!" You hurry to comply, knowing all too well what the penalty for disobedience is. Quickly, you remove your $700 business suit and cast it in a crumpled heap on the carpet. Your bra comes next, then your panties. From experience, you know to leave your hose and your pumps on. He laughs softly in the darkness at the irony. During the day, 35 people live in constant fear of the "bitch manager from hell" knowing that you can, and will, ruin their careers on a simple whim. But, with two simple words, you're standing naked and trembling in your own apartment, waiting for whatever he decides to do with you. "You're late." "Yes, there was traffic, I..." "Shut up. Come to me." You can now vaguely make him out in the darkness, sitting on the sofa and watching you. Tentatively, you take a step toward him... "No. On your hands and knees." On all fours, you crawl toward him. As you get closer, you realize that he isn't alone, as you can now discern the blonde head bobbing up and down in his lap.... Terri. How could you have missed the noisy sounds of your next-door neighbor slurping away at your boyfriend's cock? Jealousy fills you as you stop, on your hands and knees before the couch, watching this exquisite piece of trailer-trash deep-throating your man. Your eyes meet hers as she deftly works your man's prick with her mouth. Terri looks at you as if to say "watch how a real woman does it, bitch..." She pops him out of her mouth and speaks to him, her eyes never leaving yours. "Mmmmmm honey, your cock tastes SO good with my JUICES all over it!" Rubbing it in, that she's already fucked him tonight... Then she nods at you. "Roll over." Like giving instructions to a bitch dog. Of course you obey. "Now play with your tits." Terri goes back down on him as you begin kneading your breasts, watching your boyfriend's cock getting sucked. You can see his shaft glistening with her saliva. Her eyes never leave yours, as she watches you roll your hardening nipples between your fingertips. You're feeling degraded and heavily turned on at the same time. Like always. He groans as she takes him all the way into her throat, her glossy lips pressing against his balls. Your man closes his eyes as she slurps away at his rod. "Oh you're so fucking good at that, Terri," he gasps. His breathing is getting much heavier. Terri, sensing that he's about to explode, backs off, wrapping her lips around his shaft from the side, like a flute. A flute which she knows how to play perfectly. While she works him with her mouth, Terri's hand wanders between her legs, where she slowly, sensuously begins rubbing her clit. Your own pussy is on fire. You furiously squeeze your tits and rub your nipples as your crotch humps against empty air. As she licks your boyfriend's balls, Terri watches you knowingly as you writhe on the floor--it will only be a matter of time before you'll be begging to be allowed to touch yourself. Just to make the point, she slides her middle finger deep into her snatch. "OOOOOH!!!!" she screams through a mouthful of your boyfriend's left nut. You need release so badly. But you don't dare do anything about it without permission! Permission which you know you'll have to humiliate yourself even further for, by begging... Terri, meanwhile, is finished giving your man's lucky cock its tongue bath, and is now sitting on his lap, facing away from him and toward you, lowering her hot, shaved pussy onto his prick. She regards you with a self-satisfied sneer. "Mmmm, look at that, my pussy fits that nice, big cock like a glove." Yours is throbbing, screaming for attention as you maul your tits, whimpering in frustration. Terri strums her clit with her fingertip as she rides your boyfriend's cock up and down. You can't stand it anymore.... "Please..." "Mmmm, please, what?" "Please Terri, may I touch my pussy?" She appears thoughtful for just a moment. "No." You moan in frustration, but without surprise. She never lets you satisfy yourself without working for it. Now being driven crazy by your need to touch yourself, you begin rubbing your legs together. "Uh-uh," Terri chides you. "Spread those legs wide, dear." "Oh Terri PLEASE... please I need it so bad...." "Nope!" she says smugly. Your man is loving the entire performance... as always. You know how much he loves seeing you degraded and humiliated--and you know how he loves being ridden. His hands are caressing her ass, then running over her smooth, tanned waist and up to her ample, 36-D breasts-- For the first time, she looks away from you, sending a glare over her shoulder. "Hey--get your hands off these. I want 'em to bounce while I'm fucking you." Terri regards you again. "Men," she sighs. "Although I suppose we can't blame him for wanting to get his hands on a real pair for a change." Scoffing at your small, 38-B tits... You continue kneading them in frustration and humiliation as you watch her melons bounding wildly with the fucking she's getting. You're unable to tear your eyes away. Terri does have a lovely body, which you would kill to have--especially her boobs. And she looks incredibly sexy, there on the couch, fucking your man while you lie on the floor, whimpering and thrusting your hips vainly, begging for release. She smiles down at you. "Do you like my tits?" "Yes, I do..." I moan. "Would you like to suck on them?" "Oh yes." "Come over here," Terri orders. "Stand up, girl..." She makes you lean over. The intent is clear--this way, there won't be any chance of you getting any relief by rubbing your pussy against the couch, or against a leg. "Now, suck my tit." You grab her right breast. With her free hand--the one which isn't busy frigging her clit--Terri slaps your hand away. "NO! Jeez, what is it with you people and your need to grope me?? I didn't tell you to stop playing with your tits, did I?" Wordlessly, you resume your tit-play as you lean over and try to get your mouth on Terri's breast. She rides your man faster and harder, thwarting your efforts and you succeed only in getting slapped in the face several times by her firm, grapefruit-sized boobs. "Come on! Get my tit in your mouth!" she demands. Finally you're able to get your mouth around her silver dollar sized nipple, and somehow manage to keep your balance as you lean over, suck Terri's breast and roughly knead your own boobs at the same time. "Oh fuck I'm CUMMING...." Terri announces to the world. She brushes your hair out of your eyes and whispers to you, "I'm cumming on your boyfriend's cock." The look on her face is pure animal lust -- how can you ever compete with her -- you ask yourself. "Oh FUCK FUCK FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK YEAH!!" She rides him even faster. "Cum for me... OH GOD! Cum inside me please... OH YEAH!" With a grunt, your man unloads his jism into Terri's wet, insatiable pussy. "Oh, yeah, oh, his sperm filling my hot pussy. Mmmmm, feels SO fucking GOOD!!" She keeps riding him, now making a squishy sound as she bounces up and down. "God I LOVE IT!" She leans back and kisses him, then places her hands on the sides of your face, pushing your hair back. "Did you like watching that, honey?" "Yes," you groan. "Terri, oh god PLEASE!" She eases herself off of your man's semi-hard cock, leaving a dripping trail of cum on the couch. "Yes, you may touch yourself." You don't have to be told twice. Both of your hands immediately drop to your crotch, your right hand furiously rubbing your clit while you slide three of your left fingers into your dripping cunt. Fuck, it feels so good... But of course your work isn't done yet. Terri leans back on the couch, spreads her legs and smiles. "We've got sloppy seconds for you, dear..." She grabs a handful of your hair and guides you between her legs. As you watch, a glob of cum oozes out of her snatch and runs down toward her ass. "Eat me... lick me clean..." Dutifully, you descend on Terri's cum-filled pussy and begin noisily lapping away. "Oh YEAH girl, lick your man's jism out of my fuck-hole, YES!" Terri throws her blonde head back against the back of the couch and howls. "Mmmm!" you heartily agree as your fingers find their mark, sending a torrent of juices gushing out of your throbbing cunt. "Lick it, EAT IT!" Terri implores. "OHHHH!" She looks over at your man. "C'mere you, let's lick you clean as well!" He takes a standing position on the couch, his now-soft, sticky cock even with her mouth. "Mmmmm," she moans as she sucks him in.Meanwhile, you've now got four fingers up your cunt as your lick-fest of Terri's pussy continues. Your boyfriend? The sound of two women screaming and moaning (albeit mostly muffled) plus the skilled mouth working his cock are combining to get him aroused again, and in no time at all Terri's deep-throat skills are again being put to the test. A test which she, of course, passes. As always. Terri pops him out of her mouth and regards you, furiously humping your own fingers as you tongue her pussy clean. "Looks like someone's ready for round two," she coos, running her hand up and down his magnificent shaft. "Would you care for more 'sloppy seconds'?" "Mmmmm hmmmm," you moan without removing your tongue from her snatch. "Get down there," she tells him as she grabs your hands and brings them to her mouth, sucking the juices off of your fingers one by one. You feel your man grabbing hold of your hips, then the prodding of his engorged cockhead at the entrance to your hot, swollen pussy. Until Terri shakes her head and stops him. "Mmmm, not that hole, honey..."	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/78/sloppyseconds.txt
57,171	Arnold Bennidict	Fun In The Horse Stall	Yesterday, I was in L.A. just fooling around in the valley. A friend of mine has a horse ranch in Chatsworth, so I stay there when I'm down south. He was cleaning up the stable with the help of his Mexican ranch hand, Jesse. Jesse had his shirt off, displaying massive pecs and tattoos. My friend, Chet, wasn't paying me any mind, so I just wandered over to the stalls and checked out the horse. One big stallion caught my eye, and I started to stroke his side for a while, working my way toward his flanks. As I got to his balls, he grunted and snorted a bit, but seemed to like it, so I continued. Finally, I had enough nerve to lap at his enormous balls with my tongue, and was positioning myself to duck under the stallion's belly, and was just going down for the cock when I noticed that Jesse was watching me, and he was stroking his cheesy uncut meat and playing with his tit. He told me to keep going and moved in closer to watch me. The idea of putting on a show made me even hotter. After bending down again, I stuck the tip of the horse's cock in my mouth, and Jesse came in closer. He was stroking his meat just inches from my mouth. I pulled the horse out and sucked on Jesse while he massaged the horse's balls and pulled back his foreskin. I alternated from horse to Jesse, ready to blow my own load in my jeans. I began to suck the horse in earnest. His cock was so enormous I could only get about half of it down my throat. Suddenly, Jesse let go a stream of come into my face, which lubed the horse's cock and flavored my mouth. I took Jesse in my mouth while he stroked the horse into a frenzy. Then Jesse turned around and bent over, and I slammed my tongue into his hot Mexican ass. It tasted funky, and I cleaned the clumps of shit off his puckered hole. He turned around again just in time to shoot his load down my hungry mouth. Just as he blew, it was the horse's turn to come, and he covered us both with his hot juice. I stuffed the horse's cock back in my mouth and sucked for all I was worth until I got a taste of the massive load of hot, sticky, pungent horse cum. By this time, I had a raging hard-on, and was able to get Jesse to relieve me with his mouth. All in all, it was a pretty good day.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/02/stall.txt
57,218	Amy B.	Velma	Yes, I am a bondage freak, but at least I'm a cute one. Let me tell you a little bit about me. When my great adventure began, I was young, age 25, and not very experienced. Oh, I'd had sex any number of times, in a number of different ways, but I never felt the wild excitement in actually doing those things that I imagined I would. I had a million different, very kinky fantasies, things that I really wanted to do but was afraid to try, even if I had the opportunity to try... which I really didn't. Mostly, my fantasies involved me as a sort of slave girl, captured by some strong individual. Some days I imagined my master to be a male and sometimes a female, with special events for each one. What I thought I really wanted was a strong master or mistress, one who also had wild sexual fantasies, and who would take charge of me and would then act out those fantasies, obviously with me playing out the part of slave girl, used by a master (or maybe better yet, mistress) in strange and delicious ways, hopefully with an audience watching... and most deliciously of all... whether I liked it or not! I wanted strange and sexy things to happen and not have any say as to the agenda, to be used, perhaps even to be a little bit abused. My figure is good, that is, I think it's good, and maybe you would agree - that is, you would if you like full-bodied girls with large, shapely breasts. I'm tall, about 5'7", with a nice, full shapely bust, good legs, and a delicious round bottom. I love being nude, and enjoy other people seeing me nude. I have even posed nude for guys, just for fun, very naughty, very sexy pictures, like me masturbating for him, with a large rubber dildo... you may have even seen my pictures on the Internet. I did find that very exciting (though I would just die if those pictures ever showed my face). I also posed nude once for a very, very sexy amateur lady photographer, but that is a different story that I don't intend to tell you today. All I will say about that, is that she was dressed when she took the first pictures of me, she was nude when she took the last pictures of me, and the very best pictures would have been taken a while later, but by then, frankly, she was too busy to think about taking pictures. She had her mind on something else (and her tongue into something else, too). I love reading about kinky sex. Sometimes I go to the porno shops, to look at the fascinating things they write about, and to look at the exciting array of rubber dildos and accessories that they sell. I even bought a couple of those things strictly as a scientific experiment, you understand. I know a nice shop in Miami that sells remarkable stuff and I have purchased four different dildos and a couple of rubber butt pluggers. I adore playing with these toys, and have a secret fantasy about somebody else putting them into me (instead of me doing it myself). If it was a super sexy guy who did it, and if he started me out with a nice, bare-bottomed spanking, that would be just great. And if it was a marvelous, beautiful, dominant super sexy lady who did it to me, that would be the greatest. In one of the shops I found a magazine, a Swingers Journal that seemed interesting. It had just fascinating pictures, especially in the B&D area that was my particular excitement at the time. The ads seemed like fun. One of these showed a guy whose area of interest was in spankings, enemas, and Greek things about which I had many secret thoughts but not much real experience. I decided that I would answer this particular ad not intending ever to meet this guy, but rather, just to hear what he had to say. A week or so later I got a letter from him, with a nude picture. His name was Tom. He was a divorcee. He was about 35, well built, well hung, too. And he was holding a leather paddle in his hand and hanging from the ceiling next to him was a large enema bag, a long rubber hose attached to it, and connected to the end of that, a black rubber-looking device that got inserted into the recipient of this enema, and really did the work. It looked like a huge, erect, black penis. Believe me, it was an impressive picture. His letter told about how he liked to be masterful, how he thought that there was no sight so beautiful as a naked, shapely, female bottom, and nothing he liked to do so much as to pet it, to kiss it and to spank it until it was rosy pink. Then, when she was fully ready and receptive, to give her a long, slow, deep enema, filling her fuller than she had ever been filled before, using, of course, a tube so that she could not expel it until permitted. And then to lubricate her pretty asshole, greasing it generously until it was slippery, and then to fuck it deeply and firmly. His letter excited me tremendously. He became an instantaneous member in my library of fantasies. I wrote back to him, he replied again, and this time included a telephone number. I stared at that for a long time. I knew that calling the number was taking a very serious step that there was at least a chance that I would follow up and visit him at, as he described it, his Domination Laboratory. I did call the number. When he replied, his voice was much as I expected it to be, and the conversation also was about what I had expected. We agreed to meet not at his place, but on neutral ground, at a certain coffee shop, nothing else promised but the meeting. I was willing to go that far in advance, but no further at all. Oh, I knew I would go ahead and meet him at the coffee shop, but I did have serious doubts about whether I would go from there to his place. The day of the meeting came, and as promised, I went. In fact, I got there early so that I could scout out the scene, and if he showed, and if I did not like his looks up close, I could sneak out. Well, he did show up on time, and I did like his looks. We had a fascinating conversation about everything else in the world except sex. We found a million things to talk about, found lots of areas of common interest, a few fun things to fight about, too. After a long time, maybe as much as a couple of hours, it was time to leave. I declined to go to his place yet, but since I did not have a car with me, I had hopped on the bus to get there, he drove me home. As luck would have it, a vacant parking space was right there almost at my front door. He walked me to the door, and right into my apartment. What happened next was an awful long way from what our letters talked about. We were soon petting and in short order he had me out of my sweater and bra, and soon out of everything else. He got me very excited, undressed himself and showed off a nice looking, very erect penis. We did have very nice, normal sex. It was fun, pleasant, and certainly not earth-shaking. I am not even sure now that he made me come that night. I don't think so, but then, I rarely do in regular intercourse. He called me again the following week. Soon, we were dating, more or less regularly, having good sex once or twice a week, but no domination, no spankings. One evening we did go to his place. This time, he showed me his 'laboratory', a room in the basement, with wood-paneled walls, a large, sturdy oak library table with a gym mat as a top, and a rubber sheet over it. That was the laboratory. We wondered what it would be like if I was up on it, bottom up. I complied. Attached to each leg of the table were leather straps. He put a leather dog collar around each of my wrists, and then fastened the wrist to one of the leather straps, stretching my arms out wide, and helpless. Very quickly, my ankles were similarly fastened. I was now spread-eagled, completely under his control. He talked to me, and came back to our early correspondence, and what I had told him I wanted him to do. And all this time, his hands were wandering over my bare ass. Suddenly, SPLAT!!! He whacked me with his big, bare hand across my ass. It stung a little bit, but certainly did not really HURT. Again, and again... a few more times. Then he went to the closet. He took out a leather strop. Long and wicked looking. He talked to me some more. And then he raised the strop and swished it, fairly hard, across my ass. It did hurt, but it felt good at the same time. He gave me a fairly thorough spanking that day, followed by the love enema he had talked about... a long, slow enema that took 20 or 30 minutes to go in. Along the way a couple of times I told him that I could not take any more. Each time, he would stop the water flow for a while until I got used to the feeling... and then start it again.Eventually, he gave me as much as he wanted me to have, but then he made me keep it in for a while longer. After he finally did let me expel it into the toilet, I got to rest a while, but then he did Greek me. He first expanded my anus with a greased finger, and then two and three at the same time, stretching me. He had a conical, rubber dildo, and a butt plugger. Slowly, almost tenderly, he inserted it in me until the thickest part was past the sphincter. In it went the rest of the way, the thick rim preventing it from going in too far. He asked me how it felt. Actually, it felt most marvelous. I was almost disappointed when he pulled it out, and I was shocked when from his drawer he pulled out a still larger version of the same thing. This looked too big to ever get into such a tight place. However, with patience, perseverance, and plenty of pressure, he did get it in slowly, stretching me larger, until the largest diameter passed the sphincter and it was lodged fully up inside me. He gave me a little more of the leather strop, so I could have the two sensations together. After a while, the rubber plug came out. He got up astride, put the blunt, rigid end of his cock against my now stretched rosette. After what had happened so far, that did not really hurt at all... it was sort of tight, but not painful. And to me, the sensation of being fucked in the ass by a masterful man was just marvelous, though I must say that never did I have the feeling that I was out of control. I always felt that any time I really wanted him to stop and go no further, that he would have without question. Never did I feel totally dominated, subjugated, like the subdued slave girl I really wanted to be. The next time or two that we were together, things were much the same. After we had done the same things a few times, we began to talk about fantasies, and he made me tell him mine. It relates to Mrs. Olsen, who was my landlady, and who really disliked me. If I ever was going to try the slave girl experience, totally controlled by another, she would be absolutely my first choice. Now the weird thing about her was that she once had been a strong disciplinarian, a teacher in one of those strange schools where the students are punished. I overheard her telling a lady friend once that she did have an experience. She had a student who badly needed the discipline, and nothing that Mrs. Olsen ever did seemed to make that one shape up. Repeated applications of the leather did not make any difference. The cure for her, according to Mrs. Olsen, was that she was given a thorough stropping, forced to take a number of tablespoons of castor oil, thank Mrs. Olsen for each one, stropped some more, and then given a large mouthful of Mrs. Olsen's shit to eat, a tablespoonful at a time. I overheard this and never forgot it. And, I am sure I masturbated about it a thousand times afterward. That was my fantasy. I wanted to be taken over by somebody who disliked me, stripped, spanked thoroughly, made to eat her pussy, and then more humiliating things. Now understand about Mrs. Olsen. She is tall and strong, a very handsome woman, with a very potent personality. She is about 45. There is no Mr. Olsen around. I do not know if she is a widow or a divorcee, she is not the kind of person that you ask questions of. We genuinely do not like each other. I think she is overbearing. She thinks that I'm wild, spoiled, and disrespectful. While she is my landlady, I cannot wait to get out of there, and she cannot wait to have me gone. But she still is very much in my fantasies. This story, embellished somewhat, is what I told to Tom. He was very interested in this, and said that he was going to look into making it all happen. He had me write him a letter, detailing all this, though how exactly he plans to make use of it, I don't know. Today, Tom called at lunchtime and asked me to come over that evening, and to be sure to be there before 8:00PM. He said that we might, just might, have company, though he wouldn't say who. I am fantasizing about this, have been all day now, not knowing what to expect. Today is Thursday, I thought, and today is the day that perhaps I am going to meet my fate. Thomas had heard my story and had questioned me on it in detail. He knew what I thought I wanted. He was delighted to help me, to play in our little drama. He had my letter, written in my own hand, addressed to him, which detailed everything. He had also purchased a pint bottle of castor oil at the drug store, the only item on the list that he did not have in advance. And he had made the calls, I believe, talked to Mrs. Olsen, explained our relationship, and had her surprised (and he says, delighted and enthusiastic) agreement to participate. He told her that he had been regularly spanking me, had nude photos of me that he knew she would want to see, and had ideas of advanced discipline for me that he wanted to discuss with her. She was cautious, but interested, after all, this was really right up her alley, and it was being handed to her on a silver platter, so to speak. This time, for the first time, I did not drive to his place. I knew that if the adventure was going to go according to his plan that I would be taken home, in bondage, by Mrs. Olsen. My car would only be in the way. I went there by cab, dressed as usual in jeans and a sweater. The clothes made no difference. I would be nude as soon as I got there. Thomas' house was no different than at any other time. The furnishings are sparse, but adequate. The room down in the basement, which was the "playroom" looked the same. But on the floor stood a brown paper bag. Tom instructed me to strip down to my panties, but to leave them on, a pair of black nylon bikini panties that he had bought for me that he liked. I was to put each article of clothing that I removed into that paper bag. Soon enough I was almost nude, trembling slightly, though not from fright. Thomas had seen me nude now a number of times and had used me in the various ways that a punished girl is used. Instead, I was trembling in anticipation. This might be the night that Mrs. Olsen would join us, and if she did, there was no telling how the agenda might go. This time, for preparation, all that happened was that Tom put wrist cuffs on me and fastened my wrists behind my back. I was helpless. And I was wondering if she would appear, and if she did show up, if she would participate, and if she did participate how severe she would be with me. I had fantasies about how she would be dressed. No matter what she had on top I knew that she would wear a black merry widow, a short corset-like garment, only hip length, and with that, black opera length hose and garters. And of course, black panties that revealed more than they hid, through which would clearly be visible her fulsome behind. I had seen her dressed this way, and it really depressed me. It also really excited me. I had visions of kissing that large, shapely bottom, of thrusting my tongue up inside, and I hated these visions. And secretly begged that she make it happen. I stood, just marking time. The phone rang. Tom went upstairs to talk, and seemed gone forever. Then the doorbell rang. I could hear voices as he answered upstairs, but could not identify who was there. I could only hope. Footsteps could be heard, two pairs were coming down the stairs, and there she was!! Mrs. Velma Olsen stood there, looking just gorgeous, dressed in a simple, severe black dress. She looked around the room, looked finally at me, standing wearing only my panties, my wrists fastened behind my back. "My dear," she said. "You can't imagine how glad I am to see you here. And looking so lovely, too." I stood still as her hands ran across my lower body, fondling my bottom, gently squeezing one cheek of my ass. Her hands ran up my front, taking hold of each bare breast and fondling me. She took my nipples, each between a thumb and forefinger and gently squeezed, bringing them to instant erection. Then using my nipples to pull by, dragged me in very close. "Let me see your tongue," she commanded. I opened my mouth, showed her the tip of my tongue. Squeezing somewhat harder, she ordered me "Further, darling. Stick it all the way out so that I can see it!" I complied. She opened her mouth, and we deep kissed. And gently, she bit down on my tongue. Not very hard, but hard enough. This was not at all what I had expected. "My dear," she said, "Tom has told me how naughty you've been. I'm not really surprised, but it's nice to have confirmation that I have been correct. He has asked that I help in modifying your behavior. Won't that be fun?" And in saying that she squeezed hard on each erect nipple, making me gasp. She removed the black frock. She did not have the merry widow on, rather, she was wearing only a sexy looking deep cut black bra, and black panty hose. This emphasized her curvaceous figure and with her high heels, she had a totally queenly appearance. Tom, watching closely, his eyes popping out at the sight, was obviously very erect. It seemed certain that at least for now, he was going to be a voyeur in this drama, not a direct participant. It also seemed that he did not mind in the least what might happen to me. Velma sat, and pulled me over her lap, bottom up. Her hands fondled my bikini-clad rump, squeezing here and there, probing a bit. A hand ran inside the waistband and squeezed naked flesh, not hard, but rather more a loving squeeze. She quickly pulled my panties down, tugged them all the way off, and asked me to open my legs so that she could see all my parts. Her hands probed here and there. First a finger touched all around my vulva, testing for creaminess. I was sopping wet.The finger probed inward, deeply, came out again and rubbed gently across my now erect clit, almost making me leap off her lap. The finger found its way between the upturned cheeks of my bottom, found the rosebud pointing up at her, gently forced its way inside, full depth. This also seemed to please her. "Ooh yes, you are just lovely," she said, "just the way I knew you would be." She raised her right hand and spanked me fiercely across one cheek of my upturned bottom. Very slowly, she lectured me on good behavior, punctuating almost every point with another hard swat on my bare bottom, first on one cheek and then the other, alternating back and forth it seemed, to be sure that each side got its fair share. Well, each side got more than its fair share. Very soon she brought me to tears. This went on for a while, much longer than I had expected, and much more of a spanking than Tom had ever given me. I was crying now, not knowing what to say. I begged her to stop, promising her as a little girl might that I would be good, that I would never again be disrespectful, that I would obey her in anything, just anything, that she might want me to do. Finally, she pushed me off onto the floor, ordered me to kneel before her. I had truly been punished and my bottom felt like it was on fire. I felt humiliated to be treated this way, and to have Tom see me treated this way. I felt totally ashamed of myself for getting myself into this situation. And I felt totally under her control. But most of all, I felt absolutely, orgasmically excited. She was Queen, she was in charge, and what would happen was completely up to her. What she wanted from me, she would get! She took off her black bra and showed me (and Tom) a pair of delicious, shapely, large breasts. She offered me a thick, dark brown nipple to kiss. I had no doubts whatever about what was going to happen now, and I did just as she indicated she wanted me to do, I leaned forward, and took that luscious morsel into my mouth and sucked it lovingly. Shortly, her hand found my earlobe, and pulled me downward. She shucked her black underpants, spread her husky, shapely thighs, and showed me a musky crotch, obviously excited, that she wanted me to kiss as a gesture of submission. All the time that I had known her, hated her, always I had known that this was what I really wanted. I had dreamed about it a thousand times, the thought of me being on my knees, kneeling before her widespread thighs, peering into her open, expectant crotch, looking at the pink lips and her erect clit, standing up and awaiting my kiss. I knew the significance of this position. I was going to lean forward and kiss her there, and suck her juices, and give her pleasure. And by so doing, she was going to take possession of me to use me any way that she chose to use me in the future. I was going to be converted to her slave girl, and she would own me and operate me. I buried my face in it, her gorgeous, feminine cunt, tasting her juices, enjoying the strange flavors and enjoying the sexy, gorgeous feeling of the humiliation of doing this with Tom watching. He loved it. I was still on my knees between her thighs when she reached to the table for the bottle of castor oil, and a tablespoon. A large spoonful was poured, and offered to me. I pursed my lips, knowing that no taste did I hate so much as this. I refused. She smiled, reached over and took a nipple, and pinched HARD. It hurt, really hurt. I screamed, not understanding her sudden change in mood. She said, "Now there you are being willful, disobedient. That is exactly what I am going to correct." She pinched again, and I immediately opened my mouth wide, and got for my troubles the tablespoonful of the castor oil. I gagged on it, but managed to swallow it down. "Would you like another?" she asked. When I gasped out "NOOO," she pinched again, saying, "Now that IS the WRONG answer, darling. Let me ask again. Would you like another?" I knew what would happen if I said no again. I did not know what to say. She said it for me. She said, "May I have another, that would be the way that you would say it if you had good manners." She gave me another pinch, this time not so hard but still hard enough. And of course, I did ask for another, and was duly rewarded with a large spoonful, and then a moment later, another and another... I was let alone for a while, while Velma and Tom disappeared upstairs. They were gone for a long time. When they came back, I could see that Tom had lost his erection. Velma sat down again before me, her thighs spread again, and beckoned me to lick her. I did, of course, and found now that she was ever so much more juicy than before, a totally different flavor too, I could taste more that her juices this time. Obviously, out of my sight, they had fucked. She had paid Tom, in a sense, for turning me over to her for discipline, and she had thanked him in the manner he liked best. Velma reached into her purse, and found a new toy, a large nipple clip that she attached to one of my nipples, and snapped a leash onto it. This was a new way to lead somebody around. She found my coat, threw it over my shoulders, took the leash in one hand, the paper bag with my clothes in the other, said goodbye to Tom, and led me out to her car. As she led me, her attitude seemed to be that of a great lady who had just procured a new toy, and now meant to take it home and play with it in depth. I was the toy. And I knew this game that we were going to play. She was going to make the rules and I was going to abide by them - without any limits. She would be judge and jury and enforcer. In the car, she reached into the coat, took my other breast in her hand and very gently fondled it, rubbing the nipple. She turned her face to me, and offered me a very wet kiss, and as well, a totally confusing mixture of sensations and feelings. Her hand ran between my thighs, into my pussy, feeling its wetness. She gently, very gently fingered my clit, bringing me almost, but not quite to orgasm. And she nibbled on my ear lobe, and thrust a tongue into my ear, in the meanwhile whispering, "Darling girl, I am going to be your teacher, and I am going to just love being your teacher. Did you enjoy going down on me?" Considering the remarkable talent she had shown for pinching my nipples and making me do her thing, I knew I had better give the right answer. I said that I loved it. "Good," she said, "since you like it so well, do it again, right now." So, for another ten or fifteen minutes we sat parked in front of Tom's house, my face buried in her humid cunt, my tongue sucking her clit, and all the while, that castor oil was doing its insidious work, taking me ever closer to that particular point of no return. Away we drove, finally, towards home. I was certain that I would never make it there, considering the wild sensations in my bowels. Somehow, I did manage to hold on long enough, my stomach heaving and quenching as she led me up the stairs, firmly holding the leash. I begged for permission to go to the bathroom, and to my surprise, it was granted without question. Velma was for the moment in her sweet phase. I came back out, and was granted permission to shower and to rest a bit. Rest for what? Well, as it turned out, for quite a bit more. An hour later, after relaxing and watching the evening news on TV, she ordered me up. My hands were still fastened behind my back, and after some really loving, gentle play with my nipples, we began to discuss discipline. She reviewed my conduct over the past several years that we had known each other. She pointed to a number of specific instances where, she thought, I could have, should have behaved differently. Now, she told me, she was going to teach me a number of things about better manners and better behavior and that total obedience to recognized authority were certainly vital parts of the lessons. Obviously, she was now the recognized authority that she referred to. To determine if I was sufficiently obedient, she turned her back to me, bent forward to give me a delightful view of her bare ass, her legs spread so that I could see her brown rosette, almost winking at me. I knew what she wanted me to do, to give it a long, wet, sweet thrusting kiss. At that point, I could not. She said that this was disobedience, exactly what she had meant. And announcing this, she bent me over the end of the couch, my bottom raised. She left me there for a moment, went to fetch something from the closet, and showed it to me, a wicked looking leather strap, about 18" long, 3" wide, and the end cut into three separate tongues of leather. She told me that it was a trainer, sometimes called a tawse, but by any name a marvelous tool for one job, for teaching. She said that nature had provided every female a place to be taught, her naked behind. There, lessons could be given, that might be painful for the moment, but they would be remembered and no permanent harm would come. And with that, she raised the tawse, and SLAP!! A fiery streak, right across the crowns of both cheeks. I screamed out. She said nothing, and for a long time, the only sound in the room was the voice from the TV. Time dragged, and my behind was on fire. I had never really felt anything like it before. And then, SLAP!! Again, she burned my bottom, as before. Now it hurt twice as much, if that was possible. I was sobbing, crying, begging her to let me go. All that got me was a third and then a fourth shot of the wicked tawse across my rump. She asked me questions about things I had done the previous year, about things I had said, about Tom. She wanted to know if I had been letting him fuck me. I said no.That immediately earned me another vicious swat with the tawse. Again, she asked, and this time I confessed. She wanted to know if I had him use me in the ass. I denied it and got yet another stroke. I confessed that Tom had been using me anally. She noted that down for future reference, as if that was another transgression that she intended to cure. I was crying hysterically now, willing to tell her anything, willing to confess to any sin, and getting in the process a barnburner of a spanking. Suddenly, it stopped. She said to me, "What would you like to do now?" I knew there was only one answer to that question, and I said it, "Please let me show you, let me kiss your beautiful ass." She smiled slightly, bent forward again, and again, offered her brown rosette to my tongue. Now, finally, I did what I had always really wanted to do. I thrust my tongue against it, probed inward slightly, tasted her strange flavor, and gave her truly the kiss of total obedience. She left the room. After what seemed a long time, she returned, carrying a paper plate. I knew what would happen next, and sure enough, she found a spoon, and then asked me if I wanted my dessert now. I gulped, cried again, and said no. And for that refusal, got another two strokes of the tawse. She asked again, and knowing that this would go on until I said yes, I did so. She made me request it, made me ask her to please feed me my dessert.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/02/velma.txt
57,329	Andrew Troy Keller	Marcia's Awakening	You know, if I'm not mistaken, whenever someone goes on vacation to escape the pressures of their work-a-day world, that person might discover that something new has been placed into his or her life. Case in point: It was on the tenth day of October that a hot Hollywood babe named Daphne Zuniga had decided to go on a relaxing getaway on a tropical island paradise and invite her MELROSE PLACE co-star, Marcia Cross, and Marcia's DESPERATE HOUSEWIVES cast mate, Teri Hatcher, to join her. Anyway, as soon as the three friends had arrived on the island paradise and checked themselves into a hotel, the two California girls had followed both the bellhop and the Marlboro, Massachusetts native into their hotel room, where they had started the process of getting themselves settled in. "Well, my dear friends. I don't know about the both of you, but I'm in need of a nice, warm shower right now," said Marcia, after she had given the bellhop a tip and the happy bellhop had left the room. "If you guys need me for anything, I'll be in the bathroom. Okay?" And then, after the Berkeley girl and the Sunnyvale native had nodded their heads in response to her question, Marcia had picked up her robe and stepped into the bathroom to take her shower. But after the bathroom door had closed, Daphne had sat herself down on a deck chair, took a deep breath and asked, "Well, Teri? What do you think we should do in the meantime?" "It's funny that you should ask that particular question, Daphne," answered a smiling Teri, after she had taken all of her clothes off and started pumping two of her fingers in and out of her hot, wet pussy and caressing her firm breasts. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" And after she had realized what her fellow California babe was getting at, Daphne had looked at Teri with a smile on her lips, removed all of her clothes, moved herself closer to Teri and said, "You better believe I am, Teri." And then, after Daphne had placed her hands on Teri's bare hips and started licking on her hot, moist snatch, the bathroom door had opened and Marcia had stepped out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a bathrobe. But then, after she had walked over to the patio to see what how her two friends were doing, the look on Marcia's face had changed to that of pure shock, for she had discovered that both Teri and Daphne were having hot, passionate sex with each other. "Well-well-well. Guess who likes to watch," said a smiling Teri, after she had turned her head towards a confused Marcia. "Why don't you come and join us, Marcia? You know you really want to." But after Teri had taken Marcia by the hand and pulled the reluctant MELROSE PLACE star towards her and Daphne, Teri was about to give Marcia a kiss on the lips, only to have Marcia move her head away from Teri's and say, "Look, Teri. I really didn't mean to interrupt you guys. It's just that...!" But just as she was about to say another word, Teri had placed the tips of her fingers on Marcia's lips and said, "Sssshhhh. It's going to be okay, Marcia. There's no need for you to be afraid. All you need to do now is just relax... and enjoy it." And with that, both Teri and Marcia had kissed each other ever so passionately on the lips, just before Daphne had opened Marcia's robe and started licking on her cunt and Teri had started sucking on Marcia's tits. "Aaaahhhh! What are you guys doing to me? Please don't do that! I don't want it! Stop it! Oooohhhh! Please, you guys! Don't stop!" said Marcia, after she had placed one of her hands on Daphne's bare shoulder and the other hand on Teri's bare back. "Yeeeessss! That's it! Do it, Teri! Do it, Daphne! Touch me! Suck on my tits! Suck my wet pussy dry! Aaaahhhh!" And then, at that exact moment, Marcia had suddenly realized that she was experiencing something that she had never experienced with two other women before, for she was experiencing pure and untamed erotica...and enjoying every minute of it. Just then, after Daphne had placed herself in front of Marcia and started rubbing their pussies against each other and Teri had allowed Marcia to start licking on her snatch and began sucking on Daphne's tits, a sexually-energized Daphne had placed one of her hands on Marcia's silky smooth naked thigh and the other hand on Teri's bare back and yelled, "AAAAHHHH, YES! THAT'S IT! DO IT, TERI! DO IT MARCIA! TOUCH ME! SUCK ON MY TITS! FUCK THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF ME! MAKE ME WANNA CUM! AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!" And then, after they had started moving harder and faster and their lovemaking had made its final appearance on DESPERATE HOUSEWIVES, the three newfound lesbian lovers had come and collapsed due to exhaustion. Then, after they were all finally able to catch their breath and the two California babes had placed their heads on Marcia's chest, Teri had placed her gentle hand on Marcia's bare shoulder, took a deep breath and asked, "Well, Marcia? Have you finally been able to live?" "Believe me, Teri. I'm more alive than ever... and I want to thank the both of you for that," answered a smiling Marcia, after she had gently placed one of her hands on Teri's cheek and the other hand on Daphne's bare shoulder. And after they had looked and smiled at each other for a minute or two, Daphne, Marcia and Teri had snuggled up to each other and fell asleep with their naked arms in a lover's embrace. Just then, as soon as Teri and Marcia had returned to the DESPERATE HOUSEWIVES set to do another few episodes of the show's new season, a concerned Marcia had placed her gentle hands on Teri's shoulders, took a deep breath and asked, "Teri, could you please do me and not tell the others about what happened to us on our little getaway?" "Believe me, Marcia. I really do understand," answered a smiling Teri, after she had gently placed her hand on top of Marcia's. "Because I also do believe that if they were to find out about it, they'll really go gonzo on us." THE END	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/celeb/marciacross.txt
57,418	Anynom	Hurley The Hooker	You'd think that after making the most publicly embarrassing and personally damaging mistake of your life, you'd never even entertain the notion of thinking of doing it again. But Hugh Grant couldn't help it. His mind was filled with the idea of seeing a hooker. It wasn't a moral idea and it certainly wasn't a bright one, but it still filled Hugh's thoughts every now and then. Hugh was aware that the idea of being with any woman besides Elizabeth Hurley seemed crazy. He loved Elizabeth, he truly did, but he just hankered now and then for something a little different. Great as Liz was, there were some things she just wouldn't do, things that Hugh really wanted to try out. So, he wanted a little variety, a simple one-night stand. Naturally, the first time he tried, he got caught and crucified by the media. It had taken a long while for Liz to get over that, but their relationship had survived and progressed. But Hugh still couldn't get over the urge for something different, if only he couldn't get caught. Then, it hit him. The answer was so simple, Hugh couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it before. If he couldn't go out with a different woman who was a hooker, why couldn't he make a hooker out of the woman he had? Even for a man of means such as himself, it hadn't been easy for Hugh to find the right people who could give him what he needed. CDs laced with subliminal messages to make someone prey to suggestion just couldn't be picked up at the local record shop. But a man in London had come through for him, giving him exactly what he wanted. A few days of listening to the messages laced inside the various CDs and Liz would be open to pretty much anything, given how Hugh approached her. The designer of the CD promised Hugh results or his money back, a good bargain in the actor's opinion. He had planned things out perfectly. He and Elizabeth had gone to a resort for a holiday, Hugh making sure she listened to the CDs on the car ride there. He also had them playing on the stereo system set inside their room. Liz found the music a soothing background, unaware of how it was dulling down her will and making her open to suggestion. The two had spent a few days taking a break from their respective careers and getting closer together before Hugh finally decided to make his move. They had just made love and were lying together in bed, Liz cuddling against him. Hugh had just put in the last CD, the one that encouraged Liz to sleep and open her subconscious mind, leaving her ready for his implanted suggestions. "Liz, can you hear me?" "Yeah," Liz whispered, her firm breasts steadily rising and falling with each breath as her sleep began to slip into a trance. "Liz, I'm going to tell you some things. You won't remember them when you wake up, but you will still obey them, do you understand?" "Yes." "Liz, when you wake up tomorrow morning, you won't remember this. You won't remember anything I am about to tell you consciously, but subconsciously you'll remember it all. Now, you will go through tomorrow just like normal, as if nothing is different. However, at exactly six o'clock, you will come back to the room. You will have the overwhelming desire to return to the room. There will be an outfit waiting on the bed and you will put the outfit on. The moment you do, you will no longer be Elizabeth. You will be Lizzie." "Lizzie?" Elizabeth's face frowned slightly as she tried to process this information. "Yes, Lizzie. It will be a role, Elizabeth, a role that you will act to the fullest. You will do whatever you have to do to make this role believable, Elizabeth. You will act out this role to the fullest, you will be Lizzie. You will be Lizzie." "Lizzie," Elizabeth sighed. "Now, Elizabeth, do you want to know what Lizzie is?" "Yes...." "Lizzie is a hooker, Elizabeth. She is a slutty hooker. She wants nothing more than to pick up men and have wild, hot sex with them and get paid for it. Lizzie loves sex. Lizzie loves sucking cock, Lizzie loves taking a cock up her ass, she loves being a slut, she will do anything for a man, anything he asks her to, anything at all." "Anything...." Elizabeth nodded, her mind accepting the suggestions of her boyfriend. "Yes. Now, Elizabeth, at six o'clock tomorrow, you will come back to this room. There will be an outfit waiting for you. When you put the outfit on, you will become Lizzie. You will do your hair and makeup like Lizzie would, all slutty and sexy. Make yourself look as sexy as possible, Elizabeth, sexy as possible. Just like Lizzie would." "Like Lizzie...." "You will come down to the bar as soon as you are ready, Lizzie. You will go to the bar and order yourself a drink and wait. You will ignore any man who comes up and talks to you. You will ignore them all until one of them introduces himself as Huey. When he does, you will immediately want to sleep with this man. You will want hot sex with this man as soon as possible, Elizabeth. You will go to his room with him and do anything he wants and you'll love every minute of it. When the man leaves, you will come back to this room. You will take the outfit off and go to bed. When you awaken, you will not remember being Lizzie or anything that happened the night before. Do you understand all of that?" "Yes..." Elizabeth whispered. "Then sleep and remember nothing in your conscious mind," Hugh said. As Elizabeth fell into sleep, Hugh smiled at the wild night he was in for tomorrow. The conversation in the bar was quieter than usual. Every man in the bar couldn't help but stare at the woman sitting on a stool, sipping at her drink. There was no blaming them. She was gorgeous, her long black hair done up in a bun with a mane falling to her neck. She wore a tight-fitting black leather outfit that pushed her breasts up with a nice shot of cleavage. Her outfit ended at her thighs, leaving a large patch of shapely leg visible before moving into a pair of large boots. She appeared to have dosed up on the eyeliner and makeup, giving her a "come and get it" appearance that couldn't help but draw stares. So far, a few men had gathered their courage enough to try and talk to her, but all had been shot down. Instead, they all watched as she picked a cherry off from behind the bar and brought it to her lips. The way she let her tongue drag along it before swallowing it let everyone know she was aware of the stares and was enjoying the attention. She glanced up at the dark-haired man who came up to her. "So, another wannabe contestant," she murmured in her British accent. "What's your line, buddy?" "Truth to tell, I've never been good at them," the man shrugged, a nervous expression on his face. "My name's Huey." "Really?" The woman raised an eyebrow, a wicked expression coming on her face. "I'm Lizzie. So, wanna go upstairs?" "Um, ah, okay," Huey said. In a daze, he let Lizzie lead him off, barely noticing how every man in the bar was looking at him in disgusted envy. Huey hurriedly unlocked his door and walked in, his mind buzzing with the idea of being with this woman. Lizzie followed, her stride slow and sure, taking her time. "Um, it's not really much, but I hope it'll be good," Huey said, looking about. He turned around and felt his jaw drop as he saw Lizzie unzip her outfit and shrug it off. She was naked underneath and enjoyed seeing the look on his face as she bent down, wiggling her ass in the air as she undid her boots and pulled them off. "I like to get started fast," Lizzie said as she came up to Huey. She took him in her arms and gave him a kiss that electrified his entire body. "Well, I can't argue with that," Huey said as he broke away. He quickly undressed and he and Lizzie fell on the bed, kissing each other hard as they rolled about. Lizzie came up on top, grinning wickedly. "You know how I like it?" "I'm dying to know," Huey said, his cock hard and ready. He grinned as he saw Lizzie fall to her hands and knees, her ass facing him. "Can you handle it?" "I'll do my best," Huey said as he moved forward, his cock sliding into the tight passage before him. He gripped Lizzie's ass cheeks as he started to take her from behind, his rod sliding in and out of her clit, his hands pinching her ass as he thrust himself in and out of her.Lizzie moaned, her black hair undone, the mane flowing down her back as she accepted Huey's penis inside her. His thrusts became harder as he got into this, and Lizzie's cries of joy grew louder with each slam of his member into her behind. He finally blew his load into her from behind, the bed shaking underneath their orgasm. Huey collapsed on the bed, spent. Lizzie, however, wasn't even close to slowing down, and she moved down to his crotch. She took his cock in her hands and began to suck on it. Huey moaned as her mouth ran up and down his shaft, her tongue tickling the tip of his penis. She maneuvered herself so she could grab at her breasts as she sucked him off, pinching her tight nipples and caressing her full breasts. As he felt himself build, Huey could only thank his luck as Lizzie only felt unbelievable pleasure with every move of her tongue, her mind capable only of sex and nothing else that mattered came close. Huey entered the bar, a goofy grin on his face. He slid over to a table where a group of men were waiting, all with matching grins with some envy mixed in. "Damn, mate, I can't believe you did that!" one man said. "How was she?" Another asked. "Fucking incredible," Huey Longbottom said, shaking his head. "Damn, that girl was better in bed than she looked." "That's saying something," another of his friends said, nodding. "Say, did anyone else think she looked a lot like that Liz Hurley babe?" "I didn't notice," Huey said, who also didn't notice the curly-haired man sitting at the next table who spit out his drink. "I was a little too busy to pay attention." "Close as you'll get to the real thing, mate," one of Huey's friends pointed out. "Maybe, but it was a ride," Huey said. "And worth twice what I left her." As the men laughed, none of them noticed Hugh running across the lobby and heading towards the elevators, his mind reflecting on two things: One, that the best laid plans often went awry and two, what goes around really does come around.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/celeb/hurleyh.txt
57,443	Leviticus	Junkheap Wars	You settle down in your favorite chair and turn on the TV. It's time for one of your favorite shows, and it turns out that the new cable network, 'Home Showcase', is showing a special episode made just for them. You smile as the opening credits start to roll. "Hey everyone!" says one of the hosts, Tyler Hardcock, who happens to be standing on a pile of rusted-out cars. "Welcome to the junkheap! A place where many have come to tackle the most vicious problems we could create for them, by building a device made entirely from the junk you see scattered around me! The regular season has just finished, and we have our new Champion. But in this week's edition, we're offering you something special!" The scene switches to the other host, Cathy Rimjob, standing on a platform. "This week, two specially recruited teams will be rushing to build a machine that hopefully will have one of their number screaming in passion. The winner receives not a trophy, but a cash prize of ten thousand dollars. Let's meet the teams!" You see a group dressed in green coveralls, two men and a woman. "Hi, we're the Orgasm Masters," says one of the men, "My name is Alex, and with me here is my wife Rose and my brother Gearhead. We plan on taking that cash any way we can!" He smiles at his teammates, who smile back at him, although Rose's smile looks a little pained. The scene shifts to another group in red coveralls, again two men and a woman. "We're the Crotch Rockets," says one of the men, no smile on his face. "I'm Gordon, next to me is Edward, one of my co-workers, and Kate, our secretary. We've got this contest covered, WE'RE going to take the prize!" The scene switches to Cathy and Tyler for a moment. "Each of our two teams gets an expert to help them design and build their machine," Cathy says, "for the Orgasm Masters, we recruited the help of DP. DP is a master of the creative orgasm, a man who on his web site 'InSAX' regularly builds devices designed to bring women sexual release... eventually!" Tyler takes over, "The Crotch Rockets have the help of McMasters, the inventor of the sex chair. His design, fully tested by willing volunteers, has been creating a sensation across the county, and recently his factory just sold their one-millionth unit. He knows the business inside and out." You see the scene change as the two teams are framed in the same shot before it is switched to the hosts up on the platform. Behind the hosts is a homemade clock made out of junk. It shows numbers one through ten, and the hand is on the ten. Tyler grabs a bullhorn and puts it to his face. "Orgasm Masters!" he yells. The Masters cheer. "Crotch Rockets!" he yells. The Rockets yell back as well. "Teams! Today, we will test both your ingenuity with engines and your stamina with stimulation on this special Adult Edition of Junkheap Wars. What we need you to put together today, using only the junk you see around you, is a sex machine!" There are yells of appreciation from both teams, although neither of the women are quite as enthusiastic for some reason. Cathy steps forward, not needing the bullhorn, "You have just TEN hours from when the junkheap gong sounds to build something that will give the female member of your team the greatest number of orgasms in a one-hour period!" The men yell louder, big grins on all of them, while the women pale a little. They catch each other's eye, and Rose mouths "I knew it." "Are you ready, teams?" she yells, "GO!" And she bangs the gong. Each team runs into a large workbay of their own, and we watch them come together while Cathy speaks. "Each team has just ten hours to pull together from a mountain of junk a machine not only capable of giving orgasms, but doing so quickly and repeatedly. But before they can build anything, they need to plan their moves." The Orgasm Masters are standing before a large drawing board, their expert holds a marker in his hand. "Okay, guys," says DP, "what we have here is a machine of basically two parts. We need to build a frame that will hold our victim down without movement. That's very important because we don't want her wiggling around." He smiles at Rose, who blushes. "What's the other part?" Gearhead asks him. "The device itself. What turns Rose on the most?" DP asks. Her husband grins. "She has a huge collection of vibrators at home, I'm forever buying batteries for her." Rose turns an even deeper shade of red and glances at the camera. "Alex!" she says, hitting him on the arm. He looks at her and says grimly, "She can also cum from a good spanking!" "Great!" DP replies, smiling at the woman's discomfort. "We can use that. I figure we can build us a vibrator pretty easily, one that will stimulate both her clit and her nipples. But the icing will be a spanking machine to get her really going!" "No!" says Rose, who obviously hadn't banked on that. "YES!" say all the men, out-voting her. "So what do we need?" Alex asks. "Metal tubing for the frame," DP says, "two small, yet powerful electric motors, some batteries to run them, and wire to hook them all up. That's your shopping list for right now!" The scene switches to the other bay where the Crotch Rockets are assembled. McMasters is addressing them. "Dildos," he is saying to them, "mounted at the right angles and set to the right speeds, we can bring as many orgasms out of Kate as we need!" "I'm not too sure about this," Kate complains, a little horrified by what's happening. "You want to win the money, don't you?" asks Edward. "Well, yeah." "Then you're going to have to work for it. What do we need, McMasters?" "Well, we'll need to build a frame that will spread her out nicely for insertion. Then some sort of cam driven by an engine that will pump the dildos in and out of her." "Why do you say dildos?" Gordon asks, puzzled. "Because we're using two, one for each entrance!" McMasters replies with a smile. "Oh no!" Kate whines. The men laugh. "Okay, guys," says the expert, "find stuff to make a frame out of, a working engine for power, and a couple of things we can use to make the dildos!" The scene switches to Tyler. "Each team has to scrounge through the junkheap in search of the parts they need to build their machines. They can use anything they can find, as long as it is junk. Will the teams do it? Stay tuned and see!" A commercial for some hair care product comes on, and you sit and watch it before heading to the kitchen for a drink. You only watched it because the model was topless. You get a beer and settle back in front of the TV. "Welcome back to Junkheap Wars," says Cathy once the show returns. "This week, our challengers have to build sex machines capable of giving their female teammates lots of orgasms. Let's see how they're doing!" We see video of both teams running about the junkheap, looking through the piles of scrap metal, junked cars, old appliances, and other mechanical refuse. Each team also has a little 4x4 bike with a trailer for hauling stuff back to their workbays. Gearhead is working steadily, piling up some thin rebar for use as a possible frame, while Alex and his wife Rose keep searching for electric motors. Kate is nearby, looking for something she can use for dildos, while Edward is in another part of the yard looking under the hood of a car. Back in the Rocket's work bay, McMasters and Gordon are sketching out the shape of the sex machine on their marker-board. It looks daunting. "You know, I was thinking," Gordon says to him, "Kate's nipples are really rather sensitive. Is there any way we can get them involved with this?" McMasters looks at him, "I think we could. I know that nipple stimulation can be quite effective. One of my first volunteer test subjects proved that very well." "How would we work it?" Gordon asks him. McMasters looks at the drawing, "What about an air pump, hoses of some kind attached to her nipples that suck on them?" Gordon grins, "Sounds good." The scene switches to a simple animation which shows the naked body of a woman standing spread eagle, attached to a frame. A cartoon engine is running in front of her, and a series of pulleys and rods appear to be driving dildos in and out of both her pussy and ass. Cathy's voice is narrating, "What the Rockets are planning to do is very simple, yet hard to perfect. An engine will power a complicated set of cams and rods, turning rotary power into linear. The continuous thrust of the dildos inside Kate will certainly bring her to orgasm. But will they get the proper angles of entry sorted out? One mistake, and all Kate will feel is pain rather than pleasure.The animation ends, and we see Gearhead talking to DP via a two-way radio that all the team members carry. "I think I have enough rebar and poles for the frame. Should I come back?" "Come on back! Let's get a look at them!" is the answer. The scene cuts to Gearhead unloading his trailer, while DP grabs the poles and looks at them. He doesn't look happy. "We need something bigger," he says, "wider. Something at least six inches wide but no wider than a foot! Some of this stuff we can use for legs and mounting brackets, but that's it." "Sure thing," says Gearhead, and he heads back out to the junkheap. Another animation appears, and this time it is Tyler who is narrating. The animation shows a naked woman lying face-down along the length of a tube stuck on some legs. Her hands and feet are bound to the legs, and she can't move. An electric motor is attached to one end of the tube, and next to her ass, another motor is mounted. This second motor has a wide flap attached to it. "The Orgasm Masters," says Tyler, "are planning on making Rose cum with vibrations and spanking! A motor attached to the pole she is lying on will spin rapidly, causing a vibration that should stimulate her wherever she touches it. Another motor will be spinning a paddle that will spank her ass, hopefully spurring her to further orgasms. But will the spanking be too hard to give pleasure? That is something they will have to work on." A scene switch to Cathy entering the Crotch Rockets' work bay. She approaches McMasters and Gordon, who are measuring some rebar for their frame. "How are things going in here?" Cathy asks. "Pretty good, pretty good," Gordon says, smiling at her. "Things are coming along pretty smoothly." "Are you finding all your bits?" she asks. "They're coming together. Ed is still trying to find the right engine, but that shouldn't be a problem." Cathy nods in mock understanding. "Now I'm told that your machine is going to rely on old-fashioned intercourse to get the job done." "Well, yeah, the general plan is to strap Kate into this frame and let the machine screw her, front and back. It should work well!" Cathy turns to McMasters. "Now you've built this before. Isn't that the general shape of your sex chair?" "Well, Cathy," McMasters says with a smile, "this is a much cruder attempt to do the same job, although it does remind me of my first attempt to build my brainchild. I have to tell you, I spent many sleepless hours fine-tuning that machine." "Not to mention the volunteers who rode it for you," Cathy adds. McMasters grins but says nothing. In the other camp, Tyler is talking to DP and Alex, who has returned with a starter motor from a car. The men are trying to sort out the wiring. "Howdy, guys," Tyler says in greeting. "How goes it over here?" "Not bad," says DP. "Once we find the right parts, we should be ready to go!" "Do you think you'll be done in the ten hours?" asks Tyler. "I expect so," replies Alex. "We'll be ready before the other team is!" "I like that confidence!" Tyler says with a smile. An overshot of both work bays appears on the screen, and we hear Cathy ask, "Will the Orgasm Masters vibrate their way to the prize, or will the Crotch Rockets thrust themselves into first place? Stay tuned!" Another commercial, and you leave to go pee. When you get back, the show has just come back on, and Cathy has once again summarized the task ahead of both teams. You can see that by this time, a lot of junk has been collected in each bay. Tyler comes on the screen, standing on the platform the hosts use to watch both teams work. He picks up his bullhorn. "Teams, you have eight hours! EIGHT hours remaining." Most of the members from each team look up at the announcement, but no one looks very worried, except perhaps both women, who look like they would rather be someplace else. The scene changes to Edward sitting in what looks like a wrecked Geo. The hood is open, and he has just managed to coax the engine to start. He looks like he's in a pretty good mood. "Hey, guys," he yells over his radio, "I found an engine, and it runs!" "Great," replies Gordon back in the work bay. "Can you get it here?" "I'm going to have to rip it out of the car, it's totaled. I could use a hand." "I'll be right down," replies Gordon. McMasters, who has been laying out some metal poles for the frame, just nods and watches him go. On the other side of the wall separating the two work bays, Alex is yelling over the radio at his team, "Batteries, people! We need batteries for the motors!" DP looks deep in thought. "You know," he says, "a second motor for the spanking part might not be needed. It might be overkill." "I agree," Alex replies. "In fact, I have another idea. What about a paddle on a spring?" "Tell me more!" DP says with a smile. We now see various pictures on the screen of many different types of sex toys: some as simple as a normal vibrator, all the way up to complicated dungeon furniture. Cathy narrates over the images, "As we do every week, this week we have a judge to give us his expert opinion on how the two teams are doing. So considering our challenge, we just had to bring in the man responsible for some of the most inventive sex toys currently on the market. Patrick Levit has been building toys and furniture for years and has had a hand in almost every sex toy design you can think of." A heavyset man in black coveralls walks up on the platform, joining Cathy, who is already sitting there. She smiles at him and shakes his hand. "Hi, Pat. Welcome to Junkheap Wars!" "Thanks, Cathy. It's good to be invited." "Now, you've been making this type of equipment for a long time, right?" she asks him. "A very long time. Almost forty years," replies Pat. Cathy smiles. "So what do you think of what our teams are trying to do today?" Pat smiles and looks from his position to where both teams are working. "Well, both groups are going with great ideas, but it will be the execution of those ideas that will decide the contest. The Orgasm Masters with their oversized vibrator will find that the placement of the girl will be vital to its success. If they can't make proper contact with her clitoris, then they will be lost." "What about the Crotch Rockets?" Cathy asks him. "A penetrating toy has a much greater success of bringing a woman to orgasm, as you probably know," Pat replies, making Cathy blush. "With it, you stimulate more erogenous areas and basically copy what nature intended for you women to enjoy. THEIR problem will be in making sure they don't go too far and cause pain instead of pleasure. What worries me right now is that I see no provisions made for the lubrication of the rear-mounted dildo. That will cause a problem unless they get it sorted out." "I see," says Cathy, just a little flustered and trying not to show it. "So who do you put your money on right now?" Pat thinks about it for a second or so before answering, "Right now, I think I'd go with the Orgasm Masters. There is less wear and tear on the woman riding their machine, which could be better in the long run." "Fantastic!" Cathy says with a smile. The scene switches to show Edward and Gordon out in the yard. They have an engine crane sitting over the engine they are after and are both feverishly trying to get the engine out. Kate approaches her teammates with two large rubber cylinders that look like they were plugs for something. She doesn't look all that happy. "Gordon, I found these," she says. Gordon looks over at her and pauses to examine the rubber cylinders. They are obviously too large to use on her, but he is thinking. "What do you reckon, Ed? Can we trim these down on a lathe?" Edward pokes his head out of the car. "It's worth a shot!" Gordon gives them back to Kate. "Take them to McMasters." Tyler comes on. "Who is going to win the ten thousand dollar prize? Stay tuned!" A commercial for Dungeon Inn and Suites comes on, and you head to the kitchen for a sandwich. Once more, Cathy is giving us a quick summary as you sit down with your food, and you can see that they have jumped ahead a bit, as some real progress has taken place in both work bays. On the Orgasm Masters' side, you see what looks like a six-foot metal tube, maybe a foot wide, sitting on four sturdy legs. Alex is busy welding a thin bar crosswise to the underside of the tube, while Gearhead is sorting out some bicycle gears and chains on a nearby workbench. DP and Rose are sorting out some tangled rope. On the other side, McMasters and Kate seem to be alone, and we can see McMasters welding poles together to make a stand that will hold Kate spread-eagled inside it. Kate is nearby, sucking on a water bottle. "Teams!" yells Tyler through his bullhorn. "You have six hours remaining!" The Orgasm Masters smile and look confident, but McMasters on the other side frowns. We see why as Gordon and Edward are still struggling with their engine, and Cathy remarks about it as she stands next to them. "Do you really think you'll get it out?" she asks. Gordon gives her a dirty look. "Yeah, it's coming. The frame is all bent up, so it won't come out straight, but we're almost there." Tyler is with Alex, who is still welding. "So what are all these for?" he asks, pointing at various pieces of metal welded to the main frame. "Mounts," Alex says to him. "Places to mount the motor and other stuff and places to mount Rose." "Rose hasn't looked too happy about her role in this challenge," Tyler observes. "She'll be fine, she's a trooper!" Alex answers with a grin. The scene cuts to Cathy and Tyler alone on the platform. "So how are the Rockets doing?" Tyler asks her."I think they're in a bit of a frazzle," replies the female host, "they've had a lot of problems getting their engine." "Why do they need a car engine?" asks Tyler. "Something about needing enough reliable power? I'm not sure. But they say they will be ready. What about the Orgasm Masters?" "They look pretty good. They have most of the stuff they need as far as I can see, although I haven't seen any sign of the spanking part of their machine yet." Cathy grins, "I look forward to seeing that." "Why, do you like a good spanking?" Tyler asks, leering a little at her. Cathy blushes, "I'm just interested in how they manage it...mechanically!" Tyler grins, but changes the subject. "Rose doesn't look too happy," he says with a smirk. "Neither does Kate," adds Cathy. "Well, would YOU want to ride either one of these machines?" Tyler asks her. He isn't surprised that all Cathy does is blush. Some more shots appear of the teams working. The Rockets finally bring their engine into the work bay and McMasters has them mount it onto an extension of the frame right in front of where Kate has to stand. He has been working on the gearing but finds he needs some special help. "We have to get the angles right," he says, "so we'll need to have Kate standing in the machine so we can measure." Gordon nods and calls Kate over. She moves closer after a brief hesitation. "Kate," says McMasters, "we need you to strip and stand in the frame." "Why do I have to strip?" she asks nervously. "We need you naked so that we can get all the parts to match up to you." "But..." Kate begins to say, but Gordon stands up to yell at her. "For God's sake girl, just strip and come over here! We haven't time for your blubbering now!" Kate pales and reaches for the zipper on her coveralls. She slowly pulls it off revealing that under it she is only wearing panties and bra. "Everything," orders McMasters. The camera catches her misery as she undoes her bra and slips it off, followed by her panties. Kate's body is slim, almost boyish, and she stands awkwardly being the only one naked. She is ordered over to the frame and stands gingerly where just moments before McMasters had been welding something. He kicks her legs open and has her raise her arms. "That's pretty good, the holes line up," he says. "What holes?" Kate asks looking where McMasters is suddenly working. She sees that he has rope in his hand and that he is about to tie her left arm to the frame, threading the rope through holes he has prepared just for this purpose. "Hey, No!" she yells. "We have to Kate, so you don't move around during the contest," Gordon tells her. Kate bites her lip and allows McMasters to tie her. Her wrists and ankles are bound into place, and the nude young woman can do nothing but stand there as the men work around her. She looks at the camera and blushes deeply. On the other side of the wall, a similar event is taking place. Rose has started unzipping her coveralls after climbing off the machine. "We need to see exactly how your pussy lays along the seat," Alex says to her. "Yeah, yeah," Rose answers, resigned to getting naked. She pulls off the rest of her clothes to reveal a heavier body than Kate's, her breasts much fuller. She also has a tattoo over her left hip of a Dragon. Cathy comes in at this point to watch Rose mount the machine again. Rose first sits straddling the one foot diameter cylinder and then she leans forward, pressing her body to the machine and extending her arms. "Just a little bit further forward, Hon," Alex says. "This thing is cold," she replies, moving as ordered. Gearhead watches from a workbench. He appears to be making something from the bicycle parts he cannibalized, and he grins at the sight of his naked teammate. DP takes Rose's hands and quickly ties them to a bar right at the end of the cylinder. Then he grabs her nipples. "Hey!" Rose complains. "I just have to see if they stretch," he says to her, pulling them down to where another bar waits. He smiles as things look good. "We should be ready to test the motor," Alex says as he finishes the last of the wiring. "Okay, let's get her legs up," DP replies. The men grab Rose's ankles and tie them to a bar behind her. Now she is laying almost flat except for her bent legs, face down on the wide tube. DP walks around and takes a look at her opened up pussy, the camera follows. "Not bad, we'll have to see what she feels!" Cathy steps forward. "Are you ready to try it out now?" she asks. "Well, the vibrating part, yeah," Alex tells her. "Just a couple more things to do first," DP adds. Cathy smiles, and the show goes to commercial. When it comes back, it begins with Tyler announcing that only four hours remain. Rose is still tied down to the machine, and now her nipples are attached with clips to a bar below the tube she is laying on. Her eyes are red and she is trying not to move much, it is evident the clips hurt. "Ready?" DP asks. The other men nod and DP starts the motor. An offset weight on the shaft makes the motor vibrate, and as it is mounted inside the cylinder it sends those vibrations out everywhere. Rose's eyes immediately open wide as her nipples get shaken at high speed and she groans. After a few minutes they shut off the motor. "How was it?" Alex asks his wife. "God...not too bad. But I could feel myself sliding backwards. I don't think I'm getting enough vibrations on my clit." DP smiles, "I have an idea that will fix that!" Over in the other work bay, Tyler is watching as the Crotch Rockets work quickly to turn their Geo engine into something that will bring off their bound teammate. His eyes go once again to poor Kate who stands naked and spread open, with no way of doing anything about it. She grimaces and bites her lip as McMasters works below her. He has taken the rubber dildos Kate carved and mounted them to steel rods. Now he's working them into her so they can measure once again for the cam that will drive them. "We need to make sure she is well lubricated," he comments, "her ass is going to get pretty raw if she isn't." "We can keep squirting KY on her while the machine is running," Gordon replies. McMasters nods and above them Kate sighs. Cathy is once more sitting with Pat the Judge. "So, now that you have seen them working for a while, what do you think?" she asks him. "Well, Cathy," says Pat, "I'm still worried about the Crotch Rockets and their double dildo machine. It seems rather ambitious as there are so many critical things they need to get right. But if they do they will have a winner. The Orgasm Masters though, will certainly do a good job. But their winning is dependent on the Rockets making a mistake." "So your money is on the Crotch Rockets then?" Cathy asks him. Pat tilts his head back and forth a moment, "Yeah...for right now it is!" "Good enough. Stay tuned for more Junkheap Wars, right after this!" You sit through yet another series of dull commercials, although the one with the naked blonde with the big tits running down the beach holds your interest for a moment. Then the show comes back on and Cathy once again brings you up to date with what has happened before moving on with the show. We see Tyler standing in the Orgasm Masters' work bay, a nude Rose mounting the machine once more. She climbs on more gingerly now because a slight change has been made to the tube in order to further engage her clitoris. "So I hear you guys have made an improvement," Tyler says to them. The men all grin while Rose looks a little apprehensive. "Yeah," replies DP, "we needed to send more vibrations to Rose's clit, so we welded on an extra clip that should help." "An extra clip?" asks the host. DP nods and points it out as the other two men tie Rose down and get her prepped. Before, Rose had only worn clips on her nipples, stretching them down and away from her body so that the vibrating tube she lay on could send vibrations straight through them. But now a third clip, right under her pussy was being used, and Rose let out a little yelp as her husband reached in and clipped it to her clitoris. "Let's try it," he says. "Oh God," Rose exclaims, closing her eyes. The motor starts and you can tell the vibrations are getting to her. Her toes curl and she starts to moan. Everyone watches, eyes fixed, as Rose's passion slowly mounts and soon she is having her first orgasm. She bucks on the tube like on a lover, but barely moves after her hips are caught short by the clip on her clitoris. You can see her trying to pull free, but she is trapped. Eventually Gearhead turns the machine off and she slumps down. "Not bad!" says Tyler. "Pretty good," DP agrees, "but she didn't cum fast enough and I'm worried she isn't going to go the distance. We're going to need that spanking device after all!" "I agree," says Alex, "let's get cracking, shall we?" The scene shifts to the other bay where the three male members of the Crotch Rockets are kneeling at Kate's feet. They are there because they are fitting the cam and rods that will propel the dildos currently stretching her lower orifices. McMasters is slowly turning the cam and the men are watching first the vaginal dildo, then the anal one, take turns in thrusting in and out of her. Neither dildo fully pulls out of her, so she isn't entirely free of either one. Kate has her eyes closed and is biting her lip, the dildos obviously having an effect on her even moving at a snail's pace. She opens her eyes to see the camera staring at her, and she looks down, ashamed. We see her pull at her bonds but she is held firmly.Cathy is watching from the sidelines, and she is playing with the choker around her neck, something she has never appeared without in this show over the years. She notices the camera turned on her, and she moves toward the team. "Do you think you'll be ready in time?" she asks them. "I think so," says team captain, Gordon. "It's just that I haven't seen you test the engine with this thing yet. Are you sure it will work?" "Oh, it'll work. We've got it geared down pretty good. We should be ready soon." "I'll be happy to see it working!" Cathy says with a smile. "So will we!" McMasters says with a laugh. Kate gives her a pained look. Tyler is standing on the platform again. "Just one hour remaining, ladies and gentlemen. One hour!" Both teams increase the pace, aware that time is ticking away from them. The Orgasm Masters are welding once more, Rose standing out of harm's way. Curiously, she is still nude, her coveralls missing. She stands, awkward in her nudity, but doesn't protest. More metal is being welded to the side of the tube, and we see bicycle gears and chain being mounted on the new brackets. "Can you explain what you're doing now?" Cathy asks them. "Sure," says Alex, "we've extended a shaft from the motor, and using these bicycle parts, we are setting up a turntable that will pull back an arm to which we will attach our paddle. We've got it geared down so that the paddle will swat her about once a minute, letting her feel it in full." "That sounds ingenious. Will it hit her hard?" asks the host. "Not too hard, just enough to make it interesting. Do you want to try it and see?" Cathy smiles, "Er, no. I don't really need to." "Oh, come on. Just climb on, you don't have to get naked!" grins Alex. Cathy begs off, and the men laugh. Tyler comes on, at his place on the platform, "Time is going fast, will they succeed? Don't go away, we'll be right back!" You sit impatiently through the next set of commercials, and soon the show is back on. You see a shot of the Crotch Rocket's work bay, and the little Geo engine is running. Edward is sitting at some jerry-rigged engine controls, and he is letting up slowly from the clutch. Immediately, the dildos inside Kate begin to move, and she gasps as the invaders pump her. They move pretty smartly, and from Kate's expression, you can tell she can really feel them. Behind her, McMasters has a tube of KY in his hand, and he dabs some on both dildos. He then walks around to where he can see her face, nodding to himself. Kate is gasping now, and her fingers and toes curl as she goes through her first forced orgasm. She wails as she is carried though it, and in response, McMasters waves at Edward. "Slow it down a bit!" he yells over the engine. "Vary the speeds, that works best!" Edward does what he is told, and a second orgasm is brought forth after an adjustment in tempo. Gordon, watching all this from the other side of the engine, grins and motions for Edward to shut the engine off, "That's good, that's good! Do we have time to do something to her nipples as well?" McMasters looks at his watch. "I have an idea." The scene switches to the other bay where Rose is tied down to her team's machine. The motor is running, and she is feeling its full effects. We see next to her a wooden arm with a wide paddle mounted to a turntable. It is being forced back against a spring, and when it reaches a certain point, it suddenly releases, and the paddle smacks squarely across poor Rose's buttocks. She yelps as the impact drives her forward, forcing her to pull at the clip attached to her clit. The combination of sharp pain and eternal buzzing sends her into orgasm, and she can't control herself. The men standing around watching this start to laugh and high five each other. "Beers all around!" Alex says. "I'll second that!" DP says with a grin. "Er, shouldn't we let her down?" Gearhead asks, pointing at Rose who is still being handled by the machine. "Not yet, she doesn't like beer," Alex answers, and the men laugh. "Gentlemen!" calls Tyler from his post on the platform, "You have thirty minutes to complete your machines!" DP looks at Alex, "Well, maybe we should shut it off. That will give us time to paint it!" There are more shots of the two teams working to put the finishing touches on their machines, and when Tyler calls time, each team looks like they are ready, although both women already looked shagged out. "Teams," says Tyler, "it is time to put down your tools and get some rest. For tomorrow you battle for ten thousand dollars!" Everyone cheers, and the show goes to commercial. After the commercials are over, we see a change in venue. The two sex machines are set up outside in a park of some sort, surrounded by trees. The machines are about ten meters apart and are surrounded by their team members. The women, Kate and Rose, are wearing robes in their team colors rather than coveralls, and they are standing together while the men finish fiddling with the machines. Cathy narrates over all of this, "Welcome back to Junkheap Wars. As is our custom, we have allowed the teams an additional hour to tinker with and fine-tune their machines. And it is fast approaching time for the female members of each team to disrobe and get strapped in. Who will win the ten thousand dollar cash prize up for grabs this week?" The scene shifts to Cathy and Pat the expert taking a close look at both machines. Pat looks very interested. "What do you think now?" Cathy asks him. "It's all very well done," he replies, "it looks like the Crotch Rockets have overcome the mechanical disadvantages of their design, and as long as it holds together, they should have no problems." "And the Orgasm Masters?" asks Cathy. "Their machine is also very solid, and will certainly give the Rockets a run for their money. I'm willing to say that this contest may well be decided by the skills of the operators and the stamina of the young ladies concerned." "Well, this should prove to be an exciting contest, that's for sure," agrees Cathy. A scene shift, and we see Tyler standing with the women, who are clutching their robes tightly around themselves. With them stands a man in a doctor's white coat. "Well, it's about time for the women to join their teams," Tyler says, "but first, we have to explain how the contest will be judged. What we are looking for is the greatest number of orgasms within a single hour, and the way we will measure this is through a device developed at McMasters' own lab. Ladies, could you show the camera please?" Rose and Kate look at Tyler uncertainly, before opening their robes. We see that under the robes, they are nude. But we also see that attached to their groins, just above their pubic hair, are a set of white medical sensors with wires trailing from them. Tyler has brought forward the man in the white coat. "Can you explain these devices for us?" "Certainly," he answers, "with these sensors, we will be able to tell precisely when each woman orgasms, for how long, and the number of contractions in each. Last night we...er... calibrated, each of these young ladies so we know precisely the orgasmic threshold of each of them. We will not miss a single orgasm, and neither one of them will be able to fake one." Tyler is grinning. "Thanks a lot." The scene shifts to an overview, and both women are being strapped in. Technicians in white coats are busy setting up and making ready their recording devices while the team members finish tying up the women and readying the machines. Cathy, Tyler, and Pat are all sitting on the Junkheap Wars portable throne, and Tyler looks at his watch. He picks up the bullhorn and stands up. "Okay, you guys, the time has come, if you will pardon the pun," he grins, "you've worked hard to get to this point, but now it is time to see who can make these lovely ladies orgasm the most. You have ONE hour to wring as much out of these women as you can, and the winner goes home with ten thousand dollars! Are you ready?" Both teams yell that they are, although both Rose and Kate look like they wished they were someplace else. Tyler picks up an air horn. "Ready! Set!" He triggers the air horn, and the machines start up. The Orgasm Masters' battery-operated vibrating tube comes to immediate life, and we see Rose clench as the shock is sent directly to her nips and clit via the tiny clamps that hold them. Behind her, the ominous presence of the spanking arm makes itself known as it slowly retracts for its first strike. Just a little distance away, the Crotch Rockets are having problems; they can't get the engine started. Gordon and Edward begin frantically messing with it while McMasters looks on. Standing spread and naked in her frame, Kate looks down at them, her face flushed from the dildo buried deep in her ass. She is also in slight pain from the clamps on her nipples. These clamps were a last-minute addition to the machine, and they are attached via cable and pulleys to the dildos. As the dildos go up and down, her nipples will be pulled on and released. She grimaces and shivers a little bit. The view changes as we see Rose shifting and moaning. She is trying to pull away, but her bondage and the clips on her most sensitive parts prevent her from doing so. Suddenly, we see the spanking arm give her its first strike, and she yelps as she is forced forward. She looks like she is coming, and a green light, her team's color, begins to blink above her. "While the Crotch Rockets seem to have problems starting," Cathy says in voice-over, "the Orgasm Masters have pulled into the lead with the first official orgasm of the contest!" "It appears, Cathy," says Tyler from near the Rockets camp, "that they flooded the engine trying to start it!"There is another hard swat heard over on the other side, and we see that Rose has once again been hit. She comes a second time, and the men of Team Crotch Rocket look nervous. Then the engine catches, and they scramble into position. Gordon goes behind Kate; it is his job to keep the dildos lubricated, while Edward handles the engine speed and the speed of the dildos. McMasters stands close, calling out when to speed up and slow down, using the expertise he had picked up when testing his own first version of the machine that made him rich. The dildos begin their pumping motion, and Kate groans. As the Crotch Rockets try to find the right pace to make Kate cum, two more swipes of the paddle and the continuous vibration of the tube have brought Rose yet another orgasm. Her eyes are tightly shut, and a close-up of her face shows tears running down her cheeks. A switch in viewpoint shows her ass marked by the paddle, a tinge of red on her white skin. You can also see from this angle her hips trying to rise and the clamp on her clit holding her down. As the camera watches, the paddle strikes again, and Rose wails. We switch to Kate, and we see her looking up, as if pleading. The camera pans down past her breasts and her constantly tugged-on nipples, down to her groin where we see the two dildos pumping her, moving at a pretty good clip. The vaginal dildo is so large that we can see its shape under her skin as it plunges in and out. Kate is gasping for breath, panting really, and she wails to the accompaniment of a red light above her head, showing that she is having an orgasm. Tyler's face comes on, spoiling the view of almost everyone watching the show at this point. "Well, it looks like the Crotch Rockets are in the race, but can they catch up? Stay tuned!" Another commercial comes on, and you throw what is left of your sandwich at the TV. You curse advertisers in general until the show comes back on. "Welcome back to Junkheap Wars," says Cathy, standing between the two running machines and their semi-willing occupants. "We are twenty minutes into the contest, and the lead is held by the Orgasm Masters at four to three... oh, oh... now it is neck and neck as Kate has just had another orgasm!" We see a close-up of Kate, covered in sweat, almost hanging in the machine. Her face is scrunched up as she focuses on the dildos inside her, wondering when the next forced orgasm will come. McMasters has ordered the dildos slowed, and they enter and leave her at a much smoother pace, taking long strokes and stimulating Kate fully. Rose, on the other hand, has been moaning constantly. Her ass is beet red by now as the paddle has been hitting her about once a minute since the contest began. The trouble is, the pain is too much for her, and she is receiving less and less pleasure with each strike. The paddle impacts again, and she is pushed into another orgasm, but they are coming farther apart. Her teammates look at each other nervously. Unlike the other machine, this one has only one speed. They are helpless to make any adjustments that would help Rose. A blinking light signals that Kate has once again equalized the score, and we see her whispering, although she can't be heard over the engine. A camera zooms in, and we can see that she seems to be praying for release. The camera switches views, and we see the dildo in her rear. Gordon is brushing KY jelly on it with practically every stroke, and it glides smoothly into her extended rear passage with apparently little effort. Gordon is grinning, and he looks over at his team, who grin right back at him. McMasters signals for the engine to speed up, and the dildos pump faster. Several minutes later, Kate cums again, and the Crotch Rockets are in the lead. "Thirty minutes left, teams!" yells Tyler over his horn, and both women moan. To them, the hour has come and gone, and they want off, but they can't escape their bindings. Team Orgasm Masters is definitely worried now. Behind for the first time, they confer to see if there is anything they can do. While they talk, Kate has yet another orgasm, and their spirits drop. Then suddenly, things are a lot quieter as the Geo engine cuts out. The dildos stop pumping Kate, and she groans with relief or frustration. It isn't known which. Her team clusters around the engine and attempts to see what is wrong. Encouraged, the other team looks on, and Rose cums once more! "Stop the...stop the..." Rose tries to say. "What, Rose?" Alex asks her. "Stop the... the paddle... it hurts... too much," she pants, "I... can cum... better... without it!" The men huddle for a moment, then watch as the paddle strikes her once more. It is obvious to them now that Rose gets nothing from it anymore, so Gearhead quickly disconnects the arm from the pulleys. The motor inside the tube actually speeds up a bit now that part of its load is gone, and the extra vibrations stimulate Rose even further. She clenches as another orgasm flows through her. "Come on Rose!" yells Alex, and the rest of the team begins to yell encouragement to her. She actually has another orgasm before the Rockets get going again, and once more Team Orgasm is ahead. "Ten minutes!" yells Tyler. McMasters orders the dildos brought up to full speed, and Kate is almost lifted off her feet from the thrusts. She stands on her toes, moaning and groaning as the monsters invade her loins. All she can think about, all she can feel is what is happening between her legs, and she cums once more, tying the score. With five minutes left, Rose cums again, babbling in her sexual haze. With three minutes left, Kate also cums, and the score is even once more. It is apparent that whoever orgasms next will win. Each team is yelling encouragement to their ladies, and everyone watching is spellbound at the sight before them. Sitting on the throne, Cathy closely watches the actions of the machines, her face flushed, one hand rubbing her crotch. Coming around from behind the throne is Tyler, checking to see if his fly is zipped. His face is also flushed, and so is one of his hands. Sitting in your chair at home, you lean forward, anxious to see who will cum next, your hand inside your own pants. You have never seen such sexual agony on TV before; both Kate and Rose have earned your respect as their passions mount. One of the poor women looks like she is about to cum, and you begin to shout at your TV, urging her on. Then suddenly, the show vanishes. It is replaced by a weather warning from your local cable network, telling you about a thunderstorm fifty miles away. You SCREAM at the jerks who decided to put on a weather report right at that moment and threaten to call the police on them. Half crying with frustration, you wait for the announcement to be over, but it is too late. By the time the show comes back on, the end credits are rolling. You sit back, stunned. You can't believe you missed the ending. But then you smile. There's always the reruns! End	MF, bd, forced-orgasms, TV-parody	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/celeb/junkheap.txt
57,594	Geminiguy	Trick Or Treat, Michelle	You might say I'm an average fourteen-year-old boy. Not that I would. I may look average, but I've always been very much a loner. I don't really fit in with any of the crowds. Starting high school at the end of August only proved that to a greater degree. Not that I really care much. I like being a loner. But I'm also past that age where I started being curious about girls. And I have no little sisters to be curious over. Hearing my parents fucking all the time doesn't help either. I've tried to catch them doing it or see my mother naked, but they're too careful. So I steal dirty magazines when I can. I like the ones with eighteen-year-old girls, since they're the closest nudes I have to my age. I was shocked to see them putting fingers in - and letting guys lick - their pussies, taking guys' cocks in their mouths and sometimes their asses. But seeing a girl take a cock up her pussy, that didn't surprise me. I knew that was what my parents were doing. My father was sticking his cock inside my mother's pussy, and the way she screamed I knew she loved it. I tried to imagine my mother fingering herself, letting my father suck her nipples on her apparently large breasts and lick her pussy, or sucking on his cock or taking it up her butt... But I couldn't. My parents didn't seem the type. Not that I knew much about types. All that aside, it was Halloween and I was ready to go out. By myself, of course. I was going as Luke Skywalker. The Star Wars movies are my favorite. I was able to buy a black outfit and boots like Luke wore in Return of the Jedi, and I found a replica of his lightsaber at a specialty shop. I'm a pretty smart kid, so I always find the best neighborhood to trick-or-treat in. Usually one of the richer neighborhoods. We live in a pretty rich one ourselves. At the first house I rang the bell and called out "Trick or treat!" The door quickly opened. A tall woman in a business suit and her dark brown hair in a ponytail answered the door with a cell phone to her ear. She put her hand over the mouthpiece. "Oh, good. An older boy," she said. "What are you, thirteen, fourteen?" "Fourteen, miss," I answered. "Good. Listen, I need you to do me a favor." She pulled a younger girl out who had been standing outside my view to the right of the door. She was smiling and cute in an awesome clown costume. I couldn't see her hair, it was tucked under the clown hat. "Take my daughter trick-or-treating, and when you get back I'll give you all the candy you want. I need to go to the office." My mouth fell open, ready and wanting to speak. But all I could do was watch the mother push her smiling daughter out onto the porch next to me, lock the door behind her and click-clack past me down the stairs. Her ass looked amazing under that tight, short skirt. She hopped into her sports car and sped off. I closed my mouth, just standing there as I watched the car disappear from view. "Shall we go?" the obviously trusting little girl said. I shrugged, and we left her house. I'd never been alone with a girl before. I was curious, of course, but nervous too. "What's your name?" I asked. "Michelle." "Trick or treat!" We called out at the next door. We each got two full-sized candy bars. I told you I know where to get the best candy. Michelle and I talked, about school, our favorite TV shows and cartoons [yes, I still watch cartoons], movies. She had wanted to go see Mission: Impossible but "my mom said I'm too young to see a movie like that." I started wishing I looked more like Tom Cruise all of a sudden - I was a big fan of his - but I looked a lot more like Mark Hamill as Luke, when Michelle said "I do love Star Wars, though. I watch all three movies a lot. My friends don't understand me," She stuck out her tongue and made a goofy look, then laughed. "That's a really cool Luke Skywalker outfit you're wearing. It looks like the real thing!" I beamed at her compliment. I was liking Michelle even more. "Thanks!" "You're welcome!" She giggled, blushing. We hit up a lot of doors, got a ton of candy. At one point, Michelle stopped talking and had a funny look on her face, which only had a thin layer of clown makeup, unlike real clowns. "What?" I asked, curious about the look. Michelle smiled. "You don't recognize me, do you?" "Should I?" I asked. "Did we go to school together or something?" My last school had been K-grade 8. "No," Michelle giggled. "But I was in Harriet The Spy this past summer." I looked at her more closely. Michelle... Michelle Trachtenberg??? Since the makeup was thin, I could see that it WAS Harriet The Spy! I had gotten dropped off at the movie theater to watch my little cousins when we went to see it when it came out. "You were Harriet The Spy!" I blurted out stupidly. Michelle giggled again. "So you did see it!" "I had to go with my little cousins to see it, I had to watch them. But it was a fun enough movie." "Thanks," Michelle beamed. "And you were pretty cute," I admitted. She blushed again, smiling. "Thanks," Michelle mumbled. It was slowly growing darker, but neither one of us were in a hurry to go back home, and Michelle had the key to her house, too. Michelle wasn't what I expected. I thought she'd be overly chatty and boring or annoying. That was my impression of little girls, younger sisters. But what did I know on the subject. We were passing an old cemetery and there was a break in the side wall almost hidden behind some trees. "Want to take a candy break?" Michelle suggested, pointing toward the graveyard. I raised an eyebrow. She wasn't afraid of hanging out in a cemetery? "Sure," I shrugged. I followed her through the crumbled wall and we sat down in the nearest corner. No one outside could see us from here. We set down our bags and each pulled out a candy bar and started munching on it. "Hey, ummm, I wanted to ask you something, but I just realized I don't know your name!" Michelle giggled as she took off her clown hat, her long dark brown hair cascading out. "Oh, sorry! D'oh!" I said, laughing. "I'm Jim. And you can ask me anything." "Thanks, Jim. Ummm, it's kind of a favor..." "Well, I'm doing your mother a favor, why not you?" Michelle smiled nervously, but I could see curiosity in her eyes. "Can I...see your penis?" She blurted. Michelle started to blush. "I... I've never seen one before..." Without a word, I moved my trick-or-treat bag to one side, away from us. Michelle did the same with hers. I stood up and unbuckled my belt as she watched expectantly. I opened my pants and hauled my young cock out of my [also black] briefs. Michelle gaped at it. Then she giggled, blushing darkly. "Like it?" I asked curiously. "Yeah!" Michelle burst out, then giggled. "I love it!" "Thanks, Michelle!" "Can I touch it?" She gushed. "Yeah!" I replied eagerly. Michelle crawled over to me and got up on her knees. I could feel her hot breath on my excited cock. Then she reached out and touched it. My cock jumped, growing some. She pulled her hand back and giggled. "Try again," I encouraged, eager to be touched by a girl. Michelle reached up again and wrapped her hand around the shaft. I moaned softly. And my cock immediately hardened without her moving her hand at all. "I heard a penis becomes erect when it's aroused," Michelle said, sounding like her character Harriet The Spy. I just nodded. "Are you aroused?" She asked. "I am," I replied. "By you." Michelle smiled. "Re - really?" "Yeah, Michelle?" "Wow..." She gushed. Michelle began to giggle. "Oh, wow! Is there a way I can help you make it...un-erect?" "Yeah!" I said excitedly. "Okay, how?" "Slide your hand up and down the shaft." "Like this?" Michelle asked as she began to stroke me. "Yeah! Now go a little faster, and lean closer and breathe on the head. I like how your hot breath feels on it." "Okay," Michelle giggled as she stroked it faster and moved closer to it. I groaned. Her eyes twinkled as her eyes stayed locked on my cock. Without asking or having to be told, Michelle started stroking my cock very fast. It was oozing pre-cum now copiously. It ran down my shaft and over Michelle's hand. She giggled. I was surprised she didn't go "Ewww!" but as I said, she wasn't what I expected a girl to be after all. My testicles were aching now, my cock throbbing visibly.I was moaning and groaning louder and breathing heavily. My testicles tightened up. "Quick, stand up and stand next to me while you do that! It's going to blow!" "Okay!" Michelle giggled as she scrambled to her feet and stood beside me. My cock began to swell up, and I grunted as it began to spew jizz high up in an arc, hitting the ground inches from Michelle's trick-or-treat bag. She giggled and stroked my cock faster, as spurt after spurt flew out. I was gasping and moaning as twelve, thirteen spurts exited my body. My cock softened some, but Michelle kept on stroking it, though there was no more jizz for now. Finally, she let go of it. "Thanks, Jim!" Michelle said. Jumping up, she kissed me on the cheek. I put my cock away. "Want to get more candy?" I asked. "Yeah!" Michelle said as she wiped off the knees of her mostly white costume and bent down to grab our bags, handing me mine. We left the cemetery and hit more houses on the way back to her house. We talked more, sometimes Michelle whispering and giggling about how my cock felt in her hand and how cool it was to see it spurt like some volcano. We finally reached her house, and I walked her up to her front door, disappointed it was all over. Michelle unlocked the door and pushed it open. Turning back to me, she asked "Wanna come in? You don't have to be home yet, do you?" "No," I said, smiling as I followed Michelle in. We went to her room. "Normally I'd pour out my candy on my bed now and survey my 'pirate's booty'," Michelle giggled. Speaking of "booty"... "Hey, Michelle, can I ask you a favor too?" "Sure!" She said, setting her trick-or-treat bag on her bureau. "Anything." "Can I see you naked?" I blurted. I knew if I didn't just say it right out, I'd chicken out. "If you really want to," Michelle grinned. I nodded. She began to carefully remove her baggy clown costume. Underneath, she had a tight white undershirt that showed off her almost flat chest and red shorts that showed off her cute, coltish thighs. Michelle hung her costume up behind her bedroom door as she closed it. She unbuttoned her shorts, pushing them off. She had on tiny cotton panties underneath. I could see the shadow of her dark pubic hair under them, pushing out against the thin material. Then Michelle pulled her undershirt over her head, revealing her bra. I'd never seen a bra before, outside of my dirty magazines that is. It looked tight on her. Michelle reached back and began to unclasp her bra with difficulty. "They make me wear smaller bras to 'strap down' my breasts so they're not as noticeable." "They?" "My mom, the movie people, TV people. They say breasts are bad for business," Michelle giggled. With a grunt, she finally unclasped her bra and shrugged it off. Her breasts were bigger than I'd thought, though not that much bigger. Her nipples were brown with small round areolae around them. Michelle pushed down her panties. I groaned when I saw her hairy little pussy. I'd heard girls hit puberty way before boys, but this was great! Michelle giggled. "What?" I asked. She pointed down at my crotch. "You're erect again." I looked down. Wow, I was. "Can I see you naked too?" She asked. I was kind of hoping she'd ask. Then maybe this would lead further. "How much time do we have?" I asked. "Hours," She grinned. "All right," I said as I quickly undressed. I noticed Michelle rubbing her little pussy. Wow, she was aroused too! Once I was as naked as her, my clothes laid neatly over a chair, Michelle came up to me and took my cock in her hand again. "I'd love to make it spurt again..." She said. "...and this time, you can shoot it on me," She offered. "How about in you?" I said, pushing my luck. Michelle gasped, a look of excitement written across her face. "You want to have sex with me?!?" She blurted out. I nodded. "Can I?" "Yes!" She said, leading me to her bed by my cock. I got a good look at her cute little butt as we headed there. "It'll hurt a little my first time," Michelle said. "But I know it'll feel better quick if you keep moving it in and out of me." She pulled back the covers on her bed. She had a box of tissues on the side of her bed and pulled out a whole lot, laying them neatly in a stack in the middle of the bed. "What's that for?" "When you break my hymen, I might bleed a little, I read," Michelle said matter-of-factly as she lay down on her bed and spread her legs, the tissues half under her small ass. I climbed up on top of Michelle, and she grabbed my cock, guiding it to her tiny but very wet pussy. She rubbed the head up and down the slit, moaning and getting it very wet. Then Michelle started running the underside of my cock along her slit. It was soon coated with her juices. Slipping her hand between her legs, Michelle rubbed her pussy some, then coated the top part of my shaft with her juices as well. Then she let my cock back to her opening, pulling the head inside. I was thinking about the tissues, and what Michelle said about breaking her hymen, and the blood... "Are you sure you want to do this?" I said uncertainly. "Positive!" Michelle smiled up at me. "Just do it the way I said, and I'll be fine." I slid my cock in further. Michelle was so tight and hot. The head soon hit a barrier. Her hymen. I pulled back, until only the head was inside of her. Michelle leaned up and kissed me on the lips. Then I pushed forward hard. Her hymen broke, and she screamed loudly. As Michelle had told me to, I didn't stop moving. I pumped in and out of her young pussy awkwardly, slipping out like twice but popping it right back in. Tears were streaming down her face as she clung to me tightly, hands around the back of my neck and legs around my waist. But her cries slowly died away and were replaced by moans. Michelle closed her eyes as a look of pleasure replaced the pain in her face. I kept pumping in and out of her wetter and wetter pussy, and soon Michelle came. I gave her an orgasm! I got so excited I fucked her faster and harder, and she came again immediately after. "Oh, yes!" Michelle cried out. "This feels so good! Don't stop! Please don't stop!" I didn't want to. And didn't have to. I found myself lasting a long time. And Michelle had orgasm after orgasm after orgasm. Her little pussy would clamp around my cock as it spasmed around my cock, and her body would thrash around under me, her hard nipples raking against my chest. It was like an hour - I'm not kidding!!! - before I grunted and spurted my jizz deep inside Michelle Trachtenberg. I couldn't believe I was cumming inside a famous person! I grunted and groaned, thrashing atop her as I pumped bolt-after-bolt of hot jizz, eleven or twelve times. Finally, all hot and sweaty, I rolled off of her onto the bed beside her, catching my breath. I looked down at my cock, all covered in my jizz and Michelle's juices. But no blood. I sat up on my elbows and looked between her still open legs. There was some blood on the tissue. "I'm sorry," I said, feeling guilty. "Don't be!" Michelle smiled. "I wanted this, and it was amazing!" I laid back, smiling. "Thank you," She said. "No. Thank you," I retorted. "That was my first time..." "Really?" She said in a whisper. I nodded. "I hope we get to have a second time," Michelle said. "And a third, and a fourth, and a... Next time you can let me learn how to suck your penis!" She added excitedly. "I mean, if you want me to..." I turned to Michelle, smiling. "Oh, yeah, I do..." THE END	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/celeb/trickortreatmichelle.txt
57,816	Bisects_u_all	Billy Batson Takes Charge	Young Billy Batson always admired his sexy co-worker at Whiz Radio. Diana was a full-bodied woman with a pleasant, throaty voice that always made his crotch tingle when she spoke. The only problem was that Billy was trapped in the awkward body of an early teen, and Diana was a woman, a real woman. Any attempts Billy made to get friendly with her were usually met with condescending laughter, cruel jokes, or outright rejection. "I need a man in my life, Billy," she would say, "go play with the other kids your age." Besides, everyone knew that Diana secretly longed for the hero of Fawcett City - Captain Marvel. The red and gold hero flying high above, often heard shouting the magic word that fuels his powers - Shazam! Imagine Billy's dilemma then - living with a terribly cruel secret, for Billy Batson was none other than the Earthbound alter ego of Captain Marvel. How he wanted to tell Diana the truth. But he knew she would not believe him, and he just knew he could not endure more of her cruel jabs. It was a Friday afternoon when Billy was looping some tape in the production studio, thinking ahead to a weekend with friends. Diana entered the room wearing a very short skirt, and when she bent over to look for some archive tapes, he could see the line of her garters. Billy instantly felt his cock rising in his pants. When Diana dropped the tapes she had picked up, Billy rushed to help her. That's when she spied his rising affection poking through his jeans. But rather than being flattered, or even choosing to simply ignore the young man's dilemma, she instead pointed at his crotch and laughed, telling Billy he should learn to be a little more professional and to control his immature emotions. Billy was enraged. He stormed out of the studio and into the Men's Room. Gripping the sink with both hands, he stared into the mirror gritting his teeth. The word barely escaped his lips... Shazam! In an instant, the red and gold hero stood before the mirror. His gold lightning bolt reflecting the artificial light of the bathroom fixtures. White cape flowing behind him. His chiseled good looks staring back at him through the bathroom mirror. As Captain Marvel, he was a god. And for once in his life, he knew exactly what he needed to do. Strolling down the hallway with long, confident strides, Marvel found Diana back in her office, reviewing some paperwork. Without knocking, he let himself in. The woman stared incredulously at the man before her. She attempted to speak, but nothing came out of her mouth. He moved forward, shushing her with one finger to his lips. Removing his skintight red costume, he revealed a smooth, muscular physique the likes of which she had never seen before. Lowering his trunks, out popped a flaccid cock that must have been 7 inches long. He strode towards her then, and she reached out instinctively, taking his member in her hands. She began massaging it, anxious to see it as it grew to its full 10-inch length. It was thick... and beautiful. She pressed her lips over it, sucking it slowly, lovingly. Immediately, pre-cum soaked her tongue. She swallowed it greedily. He pulled out and lifted her to her feet. He began to undo the buttons of her blouse. In minutes, Diana stood before him naked. She may have been a mere mortal, but her body was truly awe-inspiring. Full, firm D-cups bouncing above a trim, tight waist. Her hips full, womanly. Her thighs smooth and flawless. He could see the patch of hair above her vagina. Not quite as thick as he expected. He could not wait to bury his face between her legs. As though she read his mind, she lay back on her desk and spread her legs. Marvel knelt down and began to lick her pretty pink clitoris. Swallowing and sucking it until she began to breathe deep, shallow breaths. In moments, she had her first orgasm. It was a thunderous release, and when she was done, her entire body shook with exquisite pleasure. It was then that he stood and spread her legs further apart. He slid his massive cock into her waiting vagina. With each inch that entered her, she let out a little gasp. He was huge. Her pussy was never as happy as it was today. She bucked her hips to meet him, and they soon found their rhythm. Within seconds, she was coming again. She had another three orgasms before he finally pulled out, pulling her head down and putting his massive, magical tool in her mouth. She sucked him hard and happily, ignoring the tightness in her jaw as she stretched her mouth around his massive girth. He could feel himself ready to unleash, but the time was not right. He pulled out and softly asked her to turn around. She was expecting a little doggy style. He stuck his massive cock right into her winking starfish. Diana let out a yelp as his tool practically split her in half. Soon, her sphincter relaxed, and her ass received his cock as easily and happily as her pussy did. As he pumped her, he asked her if this was all she had dreamed it would be. She said it was. He asked her if she ever experienced anything like this before, and she said she hadn't. Then he told her he was ready to blow, and she asked him to please let it go all over her face and mouth. "But wouldn't that be degrading," he asked. "Not from you..." she moaned, "please let me have it." And so he pulled out, grabbed his cock, and with a whisper, said "Shazam!" Young Billy Batson blew a thick, intense load all over his co-worker's pretty face and mouth. She giggled as she lapped at it, swallowing the creamy treat. When he was done, she opened her eyes and looked at Billy, horrified. With one last thrust, he shot a final bullet of jism into her eye. Confused, she pleaded with Billy to tell her what the hell was going on. With a laugh and a look of defiance, Billy looked at the cum-covered woman kneeling before him and said, "Hey, fuck you, bitch."	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/celeb/billy.txt
58,134	Marcia R. Hooper	Do You Know Where Your Mother Is?	You just never know. Even about your mother. I sure didn't. Three weeks ago, I was snooping around my mom's room, looking for goodies. I found a lipstick-sized vibrator under her mattress and a folded, three-page printout of an IM session. I was shocked. BrodskyBent: Hi there. 36 YO male here. You a hot MILF? CurliQue35: I don't respond well to acronyms. But yes, I am hot. BrodskyBent: Hot as in say, Rip off my panties and ravish me completely? CurliQue35: I'm not that hot! Go away! BrodskyBent: LOL. Sorry, am really horny here. Please don't throw me out. CurliQue35: I'll throw you to the TOS Police, how's that? <grin> BrodskyBent: ANYTHING BUT THAT! So, are you married? Kids? Mortgaged up the whazoo? CurliQue35: I always wondered how to spell whazoo. Anyway, you're not forgiven, so check your impertinence. Recently unmarried, two kids, a mortgage out my derriere that the ex is footing, a good job with an asshole boss. If this is you, John, my boss is an angel! BrodskyBent: LOL. Not a John. (Not implying you're a you know what, either.) So, are you 35 as your screen name implies? CurliQue35: 36 now. A year older and poorer. You know my marital status, what's yours? BrodskyBent: I shall not lie. Attached white male, two kids, both in high school. I live in Towson. You live in Frederick. CurliQue35: I know where I live. It's not an invitation. BrodskyBent: I'm starting to feel unloved here. Maybe I should go pester another single mother. CurliQue35: Sighhhhhhh. I'm sorry. You seem harmless enough. Maybe I'm just being hormonal. BrodskyBent: Is that an admission of physical unapproachability? CurliQue35: That's a description I've never heard before. But yes. Right in the middle of it. BrodskyBent: That's too bad. My significant other's hormonal also. CurliQue35: Poor baby. Is your significant aware of your cyber-wanderings? BrodskyBent: No, and don't you tell her, either, LOL. CurliQue35: My cyber-lips are sealed. BrodskyBent: Thank you. So, are you available? Would you like a pic? It's the real me, and very recent. CurliQue35: Available for what? I probably shouldn't ask that. Ok, send your pic. The worst I'll do is cyber-tear it up. BrodskyBent: Gee thanks. Here it comes now. Do I get one in return? CurliQue35: Yes. But don't ask for anything in the nude. I'll hang up on you if you ask for anything in the nude. BrodskyBent: Nada. But that sounds like an admission of nude photography if I ever heard one, LOL. CurliQue35: Smart ass. Hmmm. Not bad. I like a man in glasses. BrodskyBent: I'm a little thin up top. That pic doesn't really show it, but I want to be honest. CurliQue35: Honesty appreciated. BrodskyBent: Wow. You're really good-looking. I'm intimidated now. Pretty soon I'll start misspelling words and falling all over myself. CurliQue35: LOL. No man as attractive as you has problems with women. BrodskyBent: Here that Bowser? She thinks I'm attractive. <Blush.> CurliQue35: Bowser better be your dog, Sir. I don't like men who give their members names, especially not K-9 names. BrodskyBent: Oops. It won't happen again. CurliQue35: Okay. Listen, someone here. Have to go now, sorry. BrodskyBent: Can I e-mail you? CurliQue35: If you like. Bye. It wasn't so much that Mom sounded like a ball-buster, which she certainly did, or that she was online in an AOL chat-room; what rocked me was that she doesn't have a computer. That meant the exchange either took place at her work, or here at home on either my brother's or my computer. "Mom?" "Yes, Sweetie." She looked up from the Grands biscuits she was arranging on a cookie sheet and faced me. Hair had escaped from her barrette and hung loose over her left cheek. She absently blew it away. "Are you seeing someone?" I asked. She blinked, then grinned sheepishly. "Well, sort of. Nothing serious, though. Why do you ask?" I kept my tone level. "You didn't say anything about it. Usually you let me know first." I was still touchy about Dad and reproach tinged my voice. I felt a sting of tears. Shit, Jenna, I thought, stop that shit. She sighed and wiped her hands on a dish-towel. "Honey, I'm not going out with him. So far, it's only e-mail and a little bit of chat." Her grin grew embarrassed "Or am I too old for that?" "Mom!" I complained, but felt better all the same. "Do you really like him?" She half-shrugged, half-nodded. "Sort of. I can't really tell. I don't understand the situation yet." What's to understand? I wondered. He wants to ball you. I asked, "Is he married?" She sighed again. "Jenna." "Mom!" I cried, and ran upstairs to my room. I know crying is stupid. I'm eighteen years old, and old enough to know better, but I miss Dad and I want it back to normal. Even if "normal" was fighting all the time and throwing things around their bedroom and Dad hitting Mom once and cheating on her at least twice. As a child you tend to forget those things--or at least to ignore them. My brother distrusts my dad and worships the ground Mom walks on. It's the opposite for me, as it is with all my friends who've been through a divorce. Sons side with their mothers and daughters always side with their dads. Stupid, but true. "You okay?" he asked. It was ten o'clock, two days later and we were alone in the house. He was massaging my neck. My migraine was ferocious and I'd taken an Imitrex but it wasn't helping yet. "No," I said miserably. "You want to talk about it?" "No." "Jenna." I turned over and he removed his hands. James is my twin brother and my best friend. He spends hours with me when I'm in pain, but we have a problematic relationship and we have to be careful. "How can you defend her?" I demanded. "Jenna," he repeated. "Jimmy, she's a whore." He stiffened and I said apologetically, "Sorry. I shouldn't have said that." He rolled me back onto my stomach, returned to the soft kneading of my neck muscles, making me groan in pain. It was a bad attack though, and he knew better than stop. "What makes her any different than you or me?" he asked. "She's my mother." "She's a female," he said. "Females need attention. Or hadn't you noticed that, Jenna?" "I'm not asking you to fuck me," I said belligerently. "I'm not offering to." I was experiencing a more intense desire for James than I'd felt in a long, long time. We had never had sex, never really even come close, but there was always that understanding that we could. "Sorry. I shouldn't have said that," I repeated. "It's okay. Tell me exactly what she said." I related the gist of the transcript, then told him to go get it. It was still there, or at least it had been that afternoon. He settled down to read it. "Seems pretty innocent to me." "It's what they're not saying," I complained. He laughed. "How can you not say something in an IM. It's hard enough not to be misunderstood. Besides, this is tame compared to what I write." "You're not thirty-seven with two kids." "Thirty-six," he corrected. "And her two kids are grown." "Stop defending her." He massaged my shoulders, then moved to my shoulder blades, which didn't hurt so much, then to my spine, which did. I moaned appreciatively. The Imitrex was finally kicking in. "Take off my top," I said. I raised enough for him to pull it over my head. I reached behind with my right hand and released my bra strap. It popped loose to both sides. He stopped rubbing. "It's fine," I said. "I'm not trying to seduce you." I was comfortable with this level of undress as long as I hurt this bad. Problem was, I didn't hurt this bad. In fact, the headache was leaving like a burning-off mist. "We should stop," he said. "Don't. Please." Because he deserved it, I told the truth."I shouldn't be letting you do this, but I want you to, because I like it. Just rub me until my headache's gone, and I'll button back up. Okay?" "Okay." He straddled my buttocks and laid it on with both hands, giving me a tremendous massage. Two or three minutes into it, he developed a tremendous erection, and that was fine too. I was certainly aroused myself. "James?" "Uh-huh." "Do you think we ever will?" He breathed heavily through his open mouth. "I'm damned-near ready to now, Jenn. You're killing me." I grinned into the mattress. "A girl should have the upper hand with her brother." I expected a deserved smack on the rear, but it didn't come. His hands worked the small of my back, went up to my neck again, then slid down along my sides. "James?" "Uh-huh." "I want to have sex with you." "I want to have sex with you too." "Should we?" He rested on my butt. His hands were on his thighs. Both of us knew I wanted it because of Mom. "Not like this," he said. I reached back, found the ends of my bra strap and hooked them up. He climbed off and handed me my top, which I put on. I had never felt so frustrated in my life. "Thank you," I said, standing on tiptoe and kissing him on the cheek. "You're a good brother." "Don't mention it." He whacked my butt so hard I yelped. * * * Three days later, I again raided my mother's bedroom. Beneath the mattress was a four-page transcript. I read it nervously. BrodskyBent: Still at work? CurliQue35: Yes, I was afraid you wouldn't make it. BrodskyBent: Anyone there? CurliQue35: Just me and the closed-circuit cameras, LOL. BrodskyBent: No diddling yourself at the keyboard, then. CurliQue35: I would never do that! BrodskyBent: Certainly not. CurliQue35: I have to get myself a laptop. I should be at home, doing this in my bedroom. BrodskyBent: Good idea. You could diddle yourself in comfort. CurliQue35: That's not what I meant. BrodskyBent: Did you tell Jenna yet? CurliQue35: That we had sex? Are you nuts? BrodskyBent: That we're seeing each other. CurliQue35: Oh. Duh. No. BrodskyBent: She has a right to know. She asked, after all. CurliQue35: You tell her then. BrodskyBent: Right. Let's drop the subject. Did you enjoy the other night? BrodskyBent: Val? CurliQue35: I'm angry. BrodskyBent: Why? CurliQue35: You are such a man. BrodskyBent: That's not a compliment, is it? CurliQue35: Sharp, as well. BrodskyBent: Come on. We agreed to talk about things. CurliQue35: You're right. I'm sorry. I'm just confused. You experience this from a distance; I handle it up close every day. James takes things pretty much in stride, but Jenna has rolled this huge boulder out between us that I can't get around. I can barely even see around it most of the time. I'm afraid she'll do something stupid just to hurt me. I did at her age. BrodskyBent: Jenn is a very smart girl. And she has her brother to go to if things get bad. CurliQue35: That's what I'm talking about. BrodskyBent: I'm sure you're imagining things. CurliQue35: I pray so. It might run in the family. Reading someone else's IMs can be very confusing. I was already bewildered by the conversation; the sudden shift in subject confused me even more. Then I realized it was another session altogether, copied right after the first. BrodskyBent: Ding-Dong CurliQue35: Who's there. BrodskyBent: Open the door and you'll find out, little girl. CurliQue35: Eeeeeeeeeeiiiiiiiiinoooooo!! BrodskyBent: LOL. Home or at work? CurliQue35: Work. BrodskyBent: I thought you were going to get a laptop. CurliQue35: I did, but I haven't hooked it up yet. I haven't even installed AOL on it. I will tomorrow night though, or maybe even tonight. BrodskyBent: I should let you go then. You could be much more uninhibited with me at home. <grin> CurliQue35: Tisk-tisk. You are such a man. Always and foremost: sex-sex-sex. BrodskyBent: But you like it. Wearing panties tonight? CurliQue35: You know I am. BrodskyBent: A thong? CurliQue35: Possibly. BrodskyBent: No panty lines beneath your skirt? CurliQue35: <grin> BrodskyBent: I'd like to remove that skirt, Valerie. CurliQue35: Careful, now, Mister. BrodskyBent: I'll be careful, don't you worry. CurliQue35: That's not what I meant. But at least it wouldn't get all wrinkled this time. BrodskyBent: Not my fault it got wrinkled. You could have taken it off. CurliQue35: I tried to take it off, remember? BrodskyBent: Oh, yeah. Sorry. <grin again> CurliQue35: I'll grin you, you bastard. Do you know I'm still sore? Three days later? BrodskyBent: Are you complaining? CurliQue35: No. Just embarrassed. * * * James said, "Okay, so they had sex. So what?" I snatched the papers from his hand. "James! He's married. He's got kids our age. She's gonna break up his marriage!" He rolled his eyes at me, just stoking my anger. "I can't believe you're taking her side!" I cried. He tried to shush me. "I will not be quiet!" I yelled. "She's--" He shut me up with a hand behind my head and the other over my mouth. I stared at him, wide-eyed. "Do you not get anything?" he asked. "Mmmnufff-ummmffff!" He took his hand off my mouth. "It might run in the family," he said. I stared at him, bewildered. He pointed out what Mom had said. "So?" "So? Ever wonder why she and Uncle Robert are so weird around each other?" I stood there and blinked. "You don't mean . . .?" He rolled his eyes again. "Stop that," I said, irritably. "You know I hate that." I read the lines more carefully. "This doesn't mean anything, James." "Now who's in denial?" "Cut it out," I said sulkily. "Look. Mom's mother and dad got divorced when she was sixteen. Just like us. Mom and Uncle Robert are fraternal twins. Just like us. Don't you think that's kind of a genetic thing? Mom and her brother? You and me?" I blushed at the very thought of Mom and Uncle Robert together. But then again, we almost had. I breathed deeply and slowly. "Are you suggesting that you and I are...?" "Are what?" he asked, mystified. Then it was his turn to be shocked. * * * The following night in the kitchen, I asked my mother point-blank: "Are you and Uncle Robert having sex?" She dropped the two glasses in her hand, and they both shattered on the floor. "Am I what?" she croaked. I stood my ground. "Are you and Uncle Robert having sex?" She looked at me with every emotion possible twisting her face. She laughed and hiccuped at the same time and gripped her mouth convulsively. "Of course not!" she spat out. "How can you ask such a thing?" I held out the transcript. "Where did you get that?" Very slowly, through clenched teeth, I said, "Tell me about Uncle Robert." And she did. * * * James asked in disbelief. "It's Dad?" I laughed softly. "Uh-huh." He read every line of the transcript. "I can't believe it." "It's been going on quite a while," I said. "Most of this is bullshit." What Mom had told me was this: Three months ago, Dad had surreptitiously contacted her online. He pretended to be a married man from Baltimore, with kids her own age, interested in having cyber. The ruse held up exactly one week, when she had caught him out. She was furious, of course, but also relieved. It meant there was hope. Rather than give me false hope, they had kept the relationship under wraps, letting it develop gradually. Last week they had had their first date, ending in sex. I had read about it in the transcript. "So they're going out tonight?" he asked. "Yes, but you're not supposed to know. Mom wants to spring it on you herself." "That's some spring," he said. "And this shit from the first transcript?" "Cyber-games," I said. "Them having fun. You know adults." He laughed. Then he sobered. "What about her and Uncle Robert?" I took the transcripts from his hand and ripped them into little pieces. "Some things," I said, peeling out of my tee-shirt and unsnapping my bra, "are better experienced, than described." It really does run in the family. THE END	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/32/doyou.txt
58,152	Dawn	At The Movies: The First Hour	You and your husband had gone out to dinner at Luigies and decided to take in a movie as it was still early. The movies now playing didn't sound too good, and you couldn't pick one that you both wanted to see. Seeing the movies listed that were playing at the X-rated theater, you laughed at each other, saying that the one playing at the Red Cat looked interesting. A couple of your friends had gone a few times and said the theater was actually quite good, and most of the movies were worth seeing. You decided to take a chance and go one time just to see what all the fuss was about. Paying the cashier, you entered the dimly lit seating area, which had people pretty well spread out all over. Once your eyes were accustomed to the dark, you could see two or three other couples sitting in the center section about the halfway point. The rest of the crowd seemed to be men, with only one pair of girls sitting together in one of the side wings. There seemed to be a small area near the back, which was not occupied and didn't have anyone within three or four rows. Carefully, you fumbled through the dark to a pair of seats and slumped into the plush cushions. Settling in, you removed your jackets just as the next feature was starting. Obviously, the couples had been there awhile as they were necking fairly heavily. The two girls were a little in front and to your right, and they looked to be snuggling together, closer than you would expect for friends. Giving the elbow in the ribs to your husband, you pointed out that one of the girls gave the other a kiss. "Did you see that?" you said, and you both giggled. You watched the movie unfold, and there was certainly lots of beautiful skin. Your husband commented on some of the dicks, as they sure seemed to be bigger than most. The girls had bodies men only dreamed about and probably made most of the women in the audience jealous. Your husband put his arm around you, and you necked and kissed in your own little world. Caressing your breasts, he pulled the bottom of your blouse out of your skirt, which allowed free access to your breasts. They were already more responsive than normal, and you moaned whenever his hand brushed a nipple. Undoing the clasp of the bra, he slipped the lacy material off so it wasn't in the way any longer. Caressing the hardened nipples, you were really getting turned on and kept pushing up for more of his attention. Then your hand slipped down to his crotch and began rubbing the raging erection. Not to be outdone, he dipped his left hand down to the hem of your skirt. You immediately spread your legs to allow his hand to slip between the silky thighs. Your breathing was becoming ragged as his hand found the thin material between your legs. Pushing his fingers into the most sensitive area, he could feel the wetness right away. Moaning, you leaned into his neck and whispered for him to take it easy, as you were getting pretty hot. He thought it best to take a trip to the washroom and then pick up some popcorn. The refreshments might keep your minds off sex so you could enjoy the movie. It was worth a try, and he got up to leave. You asked that maybe he shouldn't go and leave you all alone, but looking around, everyone was watching the movie and not paying attention to anything else. Shortly after he left, the guy sitting in the far corner to your left came over to sit next to you in the seat vacated by your husband, John. Taken aback by the bold move, you tried to shift as far over as possible. Suddenly, his arm went around your shoulders, and you tried to remove it with no success. Forcing your body close to his, he whispered quite sternly in your face, "Don't go making too much noise, or all the guys in this place will be over here to fuck you." Looking very serious, he said, "Now you just sit there and be a real good girl, as your husband told me that your fantasy was to get screwed by a stranger." The lie sounded believable, and you looked frantically around for any sign of your husband. He also said that your husband had arranged for this to be a special night and not to worry about anything. Panic-stricken, you looked around again, only to see that nobody was paying any attention to what was happening. There was no one there to help you, and you tried to get out of your seat only to be roughly shoved back into it by the stranger. Oh, how could your husband do such a thing? Just wait until you get him home, you thought, I'll make him sorry for arranging this. The stranger smiled upon realizing that you thought this was all pre-arranged. All your heavy thinking made you prey for his next move. In a flash, his hand was under your blouse, which was already out of your waistband. Quickly, his large hand filled with a bare breast. When his strong, rough fingers closed over a tender nipple, you struggled harder to get away. Easily he held you deep in the seat and, in a flash, had the buttons undone once again. Your perfectly shaped breasts were exposed for this creature, and he immediately dropped his hungry mouth to engulf a nipple hardened by the cool air. Sucking it deep into his mouth, he tongued it like it was the sweetest lollipop. You were confused and unable to think of what to do to stop this stranger. Knowing you couldn't call out as none of these perverts were going to help you, you struggled to get out of his grip. If anything, the other men would join in the fun if they knew what was happening. Helplessly, you watched his head and fingers caressing your vulnerable breasts. Oh John, you pleaded, please hurry back and stop this. How could your husband do such a thing, kept passing through your mind? The truth was that three of this man's friends had gone to the washroom at the same time and were there to keep your husband away from the movie for as long as their buddy needed. They just stated the facts and said what the choices were, none of them were worth getting beaten over. Younger and stronger, they made a valid point. Meanwhile, the guy was feasting on two of the most beautiful breasts he had ever seen, let alone sucked. He had to admit, they had the biggest and hardest nipples. You shuddered with the realization that his caresses and kisses were having the wrong effect on your breasts, as he was certainly skilled at what made them inflamed. His one hand left your enlarged nipple and suddenly dropped into your lap. Unable to shift away, you felt his fingers search for the hem of your skirt. Finding it, they dipped under and onto your bare thighs. Struggling hard and still trying to get out of his grip, you held your legs tightly together. Realizing your dilemma, he brought his head up to your face and whispered, "Be a real good girl, and I won't call all the other guys up here to join us." Oh no, what should you do? Next, he nibbled on your ear and bit down hard enough to get your undivided attention. "Now do as you are told and open your legs so I can feel your wonderful pussy. Open your legs so I can put my fingers on your clit and finger-fuck you," he whispered. Unable to resist for any logical reason, you obliged his command, and your legs opened slightly. It was all the space he needed, and in a wink, his large hand was between your thighs. Pushing outward, he spread your legs, which gave him access to your private treasures. When his fingers pushed against your wetness, it felt like someone hit you in the stomach. Your breath came short and quick, and you closed your eyes tightly. Maybe he would just go away if you kept your eyes closed and couldn't see him. "I like them wet like this, and I love it when girls soak their panties," he told you just before his mean mouth found your lips. Oh, how right he was as you could feel the wetness greet his intruding fingers. Damn, why did John insist that you wear these thong panties. Kissing you with a passion, his tongue tried to force your lips apart. A quick, sudden pinch on your most vulnerable clit was enough to force your mouth to open in utter surprise. His tongue then went to work with demanding kisses. His fingers went under the elastic and closed on the tender clitoris, rolling it in the juices, which already soaked the area. You thought, oh how could this be happening? Around and around he rolled the sensitive bud, and soon your hips were belying your resistance. Guilt and shame washed over your body as you felt a few quick spasms rocket through your loins. Here this animal was giving you satisfaction completely against your will. His two fingers slipped deep into your wet channel, capturing the protruding clit between them.He now moved his fingers vigorously from side to side, causing small animal sounds to escape your lips. If only he would stop, just pause for a few seconds, maybe you could regain some control and composure. You could feel your face turn beet red as your hips thrust forward to meet his experienced hand. No, no, this just can't be happening! As unbelievable as it seemed, you felt a gigantic orgasm building deep inside your burning belly. Your hips yearned for his caresses, and every muscle tensed in anticipation. He could feel your desire and knew you were almost ready to cum. Leaning into your ear, he whispered, "You are a real woman. I love your cunt, and it's so wet and hot, ready for fucking." Then he ordered you to lift your skirt up all the way and to remove your panties. He wanted you naked to his touch and knew this would further humiliate you. Sobbing, and your body shaking from the crying you were experiencing, you again pleaded with him. "Please," you begged, "don't make me do this." Another wave of shame shot through your body as you realized that if he just sat there, you would do anything this utter stranger demanded. Your loins were inflamed, and your cunt was on fire with desire, the likes you had never felt in your life. Oh, how could this complete stranger be doing this to you, and then you reached for the bottom of your skirt, lifting it all the way to your waist. Another sob racked your lithe body as your fingers, shaking in anticipation, grabbed the elastic waist of the lacy panties. Raising your knees, you slowly rolled the thin material down your shapely legs, letting them drop to the floor. A tear silently ran down your flushed cheek. Never had your body been so alive. Maybe it was the dirty talk, or maybe just the thought of not having any control over what was happening, but you shamefully leaned closer to this man. Feeling his body next to yours, you needed him to fuck you now. Low and with a slight moan, you begged, "Fuck me, fuck me." Every caress, every touch from this man gave you feelings you had not experienced before. Higher and higher he took you until he felt you were almost to the point of no return. You were so engrossed with what his fingers were doing to your clit that you didn't even anticipate his next command. He had determined that your next humiliation was to suck his cock. Without your knowledge, he had undone his pants and lowered his clothes to expose his hard, long cock. It needed hot, sucking lips, and he was about to take care of that right away. His next move shocked you back to your senses, and your breath caught once again. He took your small, delicate hand and moved it to his burning meat. Wrapping your fingers around the thick shaft, he held them firmly so you couldn't move away. The hot skin singed your hand as you felt the long shaft he had placed in your fist. Slowly, he pumped your hand up and down the long pole. Again, you felt the guilt as you did not feel the fact that he was violating you; all that went through your mind was the size and hardness of his cock. He moved your small hand up and down, and you remember feeling that this was the biggest cock you had felt. You began pleading with him to stop, leave you alone, please. Determined to regain some composure, you continued. Sobbing, you kept begging him to stop right now. It only made him smile, and he could feel that you would not resist. You were a hot bitch, and without anyone here to help you, you would do anything he demanded. When he saw your husband feeling those gorgeous boobs and then you removed your bra, he knew you were ready for some sex. He watched you squirm and roll your hips when hubby fingered your pussy. Yes, this was one hot woman, and he decided to get his buddies to help him with this one. "It's time to suck, baby," he told you, and it took a few seconds for it to sink in. Meanwhile, his free hand moved to your head and guided it down. You opened your eyes wide and saw the monster as your face got closer. Another nudge, and the flared head was against your lips. You knew what was expected and didn't know of any way to prevent what was going to happen. Another little push, and it slipped between your lips. With the help and guidance of his hand, your mouth was moving up and down his long cock. You could taste the salty pre-cum, and the animal made sure to release a few more shots for you to taste. You had to keep your fist around the shaft so you could prevent him from ramming his entire length into your throat. Almost like being in a trance, you obediently moved the cock in and out of your hot cavity. This made him extremely happy, and soon his seed was building towards a final climax. No way out now, you sucked the monster as he demanded. His hips began to shift back and forth in the seat as the impending orgasm neared. He just couldn't believe his luck in getting such a beautiful, sexy woman to fall under his control. Suddenly, his hips thrust up and held steady for a brief moment. Then the first powerful shot of hot lava rushed down your throat. You attempted to pull back, but he held your head firmly in place as he now jerked his weapon up and down, releasing the venom into your captive mouth. Never one to give many blowjobs, you swallowed quickly so as not to suffocate from all the cum he shot into you. Shamed by these filthy actions taking place in the public theatre, you could feel your erotic emotions rising even higher. Unable to control the passion, your thighs pressed together tightly, squeezing your pussy lips in an attempt to put pressure on your clit. With you seated in your seat, then leaning over to put your mouth on his bulging cock, your big tits were exposed below your chest. Realizing your heightened passionate state, he reached under your upper body with both hands, his fingers catching the hard nipples as your boobs swung freely. The orgasm built and finally exploded as you swallowed the last shots of white lava. Never in your life had you climaxed without someone actually caressing your cunt. Here you were, experiencing a violent orgasm because this bastard demanded your body to do so. Spasm after spasm rocked your thin body, and just by squeezing your thighs together, your pussy exploded. Thankfully, your mouth was full of his big cock, so the loud moans didn't escape your throat. Sucking harder, you drained every last ounce of cum from his balls, and he was amazed at the skill you possessed. No cocksucker had ever given him such an expert blowjob. Eventually, the explosions subsided in your loins, and your muscles began to relax. Fatigue and exhaustion were setting in, and you freely gave in to his next actions. He grabbed your body, raising it up to his. Then he kissed you deeply, square on the lips, and with his darting tongue, demanding your reaction. Passionately he kissed, soon bringing the desired reaction from your tired body. Skillfully, his hand reached down, down your sweaty body until his fingers traced a path across your flat tummy. Further down, the tip of his middle finger slipped between the soaked pussy lips to press firmly on the swollen clit. Instantly, your cunt was on fire as he madly rolled the wetness under his finger. Now vigorously, he demanded your hips meet the speed of his caresses on the most tender clitoris. Faster your hips jerked in retaliation, and you sobbed as you realized you were being taken by this monster to newer heights. Unable to stop your hips from joining him, he controlled every facet of your being. Leaning to the side and whispering in your ear, he said, "Fuck me, baby, fuck me. I want your cunt now." Furiously now, he pumped the swollen clit, and your orgasm rushed to a peak. Up and up he took your body, and you were not able to resist in any way. Determined to not make too much noise, you attempted to keep your mouth tightly shut so the moans could not be heard throughout the theatre. When his sharp teeth closed over a throbbing nipple, your orgasm exploded. Harder he bit down, but the pain was quickly forgotten. Nothing in the world could have stopped this violent eruption, and it seemed to go on forever. Fingers buried in your cunt, mouth over one nipple, and his fingers on the other, he possessed your entire life in his control. During the last few seconds of the passionate scene, one of his buddies who had been guarding your husband came back into the seating area. In the dim light, he witnessed the perfect body going through the throws of a most violent orgasm. All he could think was how lucky Jed was to get his rocks off with this babe. Glancing around the theatre, he could see that even the low sounds coming from the pair were noticed by some of the patrons. They were looking enviously back to the two lovers. A couple of the others were matching the pair with their passionate clutches. He could feel his raging hardon yearn for some of the action. What the hell, he thought, who was going to stop him? Like a cat, he crawled over to where you two were. Sitting in the seat next to you, he quickly released the waistband of his jeans and lowered his clothes. Up popped his hard-on, jerking proudly up and down but hidden by the darkness. Jed noticed his buddy and understood what his intentions were. The spasms had quieted in your body, and you were sitting motionless, back in your seat. Your skirt was still rolled up around your slender waist, and your blouse was completely off your chest. The sight made him even more excited, and he instantly dove for your treasure. Luckily, he was not too big a man, and he easily slipped between the row of seats. Before you realized what was going on, he spread your legs wide to allow his body to fit between them. Lifting your head to see where the movement was coming from, you saw this other stranger attack.In a flash, his hot mouth closed on your pussy. Pushing his strong tongue between your lips, he attacked the protruding clit with a determined passion. Reaching down with your hands, you grabbed his head and attempted to move it off your searing crotch. You tried in vain to resist, but the two men held you firmly in your seat. There was no room for you to struggle or to get this new assaulter to stop. His arms went over your wide-spread thighs, reaching behind you to grab your flesh and easily holding your lower body steady. Looking down, you could see the top of his head, and the helplessness of the situation caused low begging sounds from your throat. "No, no," you kept repeating as you wished him to stop kissing your exposed pussy. Hungrily, he ate your cunt, and every now and then would release your clit only to push his tongue deep into your vagina. Almost as fast as he attacked, your loins felt new shocks of passion. He could smell the sex aroma drifting up from your cunt, and it was like a drug to his possessed mind. Reaching down between his legs, he grabbed the thick shaft of his cock with one hand and began pumping it. Your body was reacting to the caresses, and your head rolled from side to side as you felt the futile attempt of resisting these bastards. Hungrily, he sucked and nibbled, all the while pumping his iron. Soon, the flames of desire were roaring again, and the orgasm started to wash over your body. Every nerve seemed to be extremely alive, and these men were feasting on every one of them. Anyone watching could see a sensual woman being taken by two lovers and enjoying every second. Deep inside your womanhood, the explosions caused your hips to thrust madly to the demanding mouth. Jed kissed you deeply so as to keep any sounds or moans from escaping your lips. No need to alert all the others in the theatre. As it was, some of the other patrons were enjoying the erotic show unfolding a few feet away from their seats. The orgasm filled your body, and these vultures devoured any dignity you may have retained. Never had you experienced multiple orgasms in such a short period of time. Milking every bit of sexual satisfaction from your aroused body, one sucked hard on your exploding cunt. The other kissed your lips while his big, rough hands caressed your silky breasts. Over the top they took their captured prey, and you no longer presented any resistance to their demands. Your juices flowed like a fountain, and the hungry mouth drank the nectar, swallowing every ounce as if in a desert. Once your hips stopped their feverish thrashing, the second man held his throbbing cock in one fist. Something had to be done, and done immediately, as he was very close to cumming. Twisting and shifting his body until he was seated in the seat to your right, he held his ramrod straight up. His intentions were quite obvious as he grabbed a handful of your hair, pulling your head down to his waiting iron. You actually saw a bit of humor in this as your eyes spotted the uncircumcised cock. In an attempt to stop him from ramming the long cock into your mouth, your hand went to the hard shaft. Holding it away from your face, you watched in wonderment as the skin pushed down to reveal the flared head. Then his large hand closed over yours, and he began pumping both up and down the pulsating shaft. Wide-eyed, you watched the wet, glistening head as it thrust up towards your flushed face. "No, no," you pleaded with him, but there was no reasoning with him now. The passion had long overtaken his enraged mind, and all he needed now was fulfillment. Jed held you in place, and you were unable to stop the impending attack. Pushing hard against your mouth, the flared tip split your lips. Holding your head firmly with his fingers entwined in your curly hair, he gave a persistent jerk, and the weapon was planted deep into your mouth. The heated cavity gave him instant gratification, and more pre-cum was released from his throbbing cock. You could taste the salty cum and felt the knob swell as he forced your hand to grip the shaft tightly, keeping the hot lava from escaping. All control gone, he suddenly released his grip on your hand and shot a powerful blast of the burning cum deep into your throat. His strong orgasm consumed his body, and his hips kept thrusting forward as he emptied his load into the hot bitch. You swallowed as fast as possible in an attempt to keep from choking. On and on it went, and you wondered how there could be so much cum in one cock. Eventually, you felt the last jerks from his now semi-hard-on, but he held you firmly until the spasms subsided. All you could do was lay subdued between these two men until they decided they were finished abusing your body. In less than an hour, you had given two blowjobs, much against your will. Eventually, the two relaxed enough to release their hold on you, and you were able to sit up straight. Panic in your eyes, you looked around to see who was looking. Surely, others could see what was going on even in the darkened area, and wouldn't they know these two men had taken you without your consent? A small spasm shot through your body as you realized that nobody was going to help you. If anyone noticed, they probably thought that you were a willing participant. Oh, how could this happen in a public place? THE END OF THE FIRST HOUR	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/32/atthemovies1.txt
58,218	Obmuj	Yvonne's Dilemma - 3	Yvonne was completely surprised to learn her husband Ed had engaged in sexual play with two of his sisters when he was young. "Ed, did you have intercourse with them or what?" Yvonne asked him after he mentioned his interplay with his own siblings. "No penetration took place, and at first we used to just expose our bodies to each other. Then I asked them to let me suck on their breasts, and that was fun for all three of us. A few times I got them to let me put my thing between their legs, and they only let me for a minute or so. "One day we decided to touch each other, and when they gripped me in their hands, I had them stroke me. After a while of their doing this, I shot off my first load, and when I ejaculated it all over their hands and onto their clothes, they got mad and took off. How long they stayed mad I can't remember, but finally we did it to each other. This only lasted like the time of our being out of school for one summer, and we never did it any more. "How old were you the first time you had sex?" Yvonne asked her husband, now that he had opened up after all the years they had been married. Smiling at his wife, Ed asked, "You sure you want to know?" "Absolutely, or is this something that might scare me, dear husband?" "No, I was seventeen and scared as hell, even though all us guys were always trying to get laid," Ed replied. "Tell me who and all about it, my curiosity is piqued." Thinking back, Ed finally told Yvonne, "It was my aunt, but she was really my mother's brother's wife. So she wasn't really my aunt in truth, but by marriage. Aunt Doris had lost her husband in a truck accident he was driving. My mother had me doing chores for Aunt Doris, and one day I went over and she was laying in the back yard sunning herself. One thing led to another, and we ended up in bed, and I did her for over four years. No more questions tonight, deal, little wife?" After eating dinner, they stopped in the lounge and drank a glass of wine together. Yvonne laughingly mentioned perhaps she should speak to their daughters about their hymens and explain how it was when she introduced her to sex. Yvonne explained she had taken both girls to be checked by the doctor, and the doctor advised her both girls have the same thick hymen she had. A few times during the early years of our marriage, Yvonne discussed the prospect of having breast implants. I told her not to have it done if it was for my benefit. However, if she wished to have it done for her own peace of mind, then go for it, and I would support her. One afternoon, I received a call from Yvonne at the office, and she said she had a surprise for me when I got home. Driving home from work, I wondered what she had in line for me when I arrived home. Walking in the door, the kids all greeted me, and the girls said, "Wait till mom tells you the news." Walking into the kitchen, I moved behind Yvonne as she was preparing dinner and hugged her. She turned her face towards me, and I kissed her lips, and then she pulled away and told me, "Look on the table." Turning around, I looked at the table, and on a plate was an implant. "The doctor let me bring it home for you to see, and now pull the chair out in front of you." On it was another implant, but it was almost half again as large. "Which ones do you want, lover boy?" Yvonne asked. Not sure what to say, but I thought if she brought home two sizes, then she wants the larger, and so I replied, "Hell, girlfriend, let's go BIG!" I exclaimed! A month later, and here we are, on a date, and Yvonne is wearing a dress that reveals her large 38D breasts. Never could she have allowed this to have happened if I hadn't agreed. My wife could have stayed flat, and I would have been happy. But this was a woman thing, and I would never have told her she shouldn't. A few weeks ago, Yvonne told me about coming home early and finding our fifteen-year-old daughter Judi laying on top of Steven, her brother. Yvonne could see that Judi had her sex laying on her brother's erection and was rubbing herself off on his manhood. Just as she was about to say something to the kids, Steven shot off as his sister slid back and forth on his penis. Yvonne talked to them about what they were doing and did not tell them not to touch each other but explained what they were doing was questioned in our society. She believes they have continued in the sexual interplay, but she hasn't caught them again. Sherri, our eldest daughter is seventeen and asked her mother about birth control and could she start taking it, even though she hasn't had sex yet. At least she asked her mother so she wouldn't get in trouble. That, Yvonne explained, "Is why your daughters went to the doctor today."	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/32/yvonne3.txt
58,263	Lanka Cream	Bianca Helps Out Daddy	Young teenage Bianca is very keen on some expensive clothes and jewelry for her birthday. She is also precociously sexually developed and has desires on daddy. He hasn't been getting any lately as his wife is having an affair and his urges make him notice the forbidden charms of his daughter. (M/f-teen, ped, inc, 1st, preg) Bianca was turning 15 on Sunday and her mom was away interstate on business for a week as usual, probably fucking that lawyer down in Florida that daddy knew nothing about, Bianca guessed. Bianca was tempted to tell daddy about it but thought it best not to intervene. She suspected that her parents had not had sex for months and she thought her daddy had been looking at her in an unusual way of late. Her daddy was a very handsome dark-haired man that her girlfriends tried to flirt with all the time, even though he was 42. He was captain of the surf club and went to the gym several times a week as well as being the managing partner of a successful law firm. Bianca was a stunning young woman of voluptuous proportions. She had entered puberty early at 12 and now, on the eve of her fifteenth birthday, stood 5 feet 7 inches tall with long wavy honey-blonde hair, a handsome rather than cute face, full natural lips and an athletic size 12 figure, (not one of those skinny stick insects), but a real woman's figure that bore testimony to her prowess as a representative hockey player. Her enticing figure was capped by full, firm, luscious breasts, barely contained by her DD bras. Bianca had begun masturbating regularly at the age of 10 and at the age of 13 she had discovered her mother's motorized 6-inch rubber dildo. Almost a year ago Bianca had accidentally broken her hymen during an especially torrid masturbation session and gradually over the past few months had worked up to fully consuming that vibrating black rubber cock in her hungry young pussy. Now she was hungry for a real cock, her father's. She had seen him half-erect one morning a few weeks ago as he made his way to the bathroom. Bianca had marveled at the length, thickness and beauty of her father's uncircumcised olive-pink cock with its huge mushroom-like head poking enticingly out of his foreskin. Even since then she has been masturbating to the vision of her father's cock, knowing that it was not getting the pussy it so deserved. Three weeks ago Bianca had discovered a pair of her panties in the laundry basket and they were soaked with a huge load of warm cum, her daddy's! He must have wanked off into them just before she got home from school. Ever since Bianca has wondered whether her daddy was fantasizing about her while he masturbated his lovely big cock. She has regularly checked the laundry basket every day since and almost every day has found a pair of her used panties soaked with semen, sometimes stiff and dry (indicating he had wanked off into them in the morning after she left for school) and sometimes still warm and wet (indicating that he had jacked off not long before). Bianca would always put those cum-soaked panties to her nose and breathe in the aroma of her daddy's male seed, wishing she had seen it spurting. She wanted that big daddy-cock real bad. It was Saturday morning and mom was still away. Bianca got up early and went to the kitchen in her short see-through nightie. She made fresh orange juice, coffee and toast with marmalade for herself and daddy and took it into his bedroom on a tray. Daddy was lying in bed half awake and sat up as Bianca entered. He had been lying there enjoying the extra lie-in of a Saturday morning and had been quietly stroking his cock around which he had wrapped a pair of Bianca's light blue satin and lace panties which he had extracted from the laundry basket last night in anticipation of his morning wank as he thought of what his underage daughter's pussy must look like. He looked at Bianca as she walked from the door carrying the breakfast tray and had his first glimpse in years of his daughter's tits and pussy. Although she was wearing a nightie, it was almost totally transparent, providing a tempting but still partly censored view of her sexual organs. Her areolas were a large 2 inches in diameter and her nipples were thick, standing out proudly on her firm milky orbs. Between her thighs he could see a thick forest of dark brown, hiding her lips of heaven that he ached to see and touch. Bianca sat the breakfast tray on his bedside table, sat on his bed and lent over and kissed him lightly on his cheek. As she did so, one of her breasts escaped her loose nightie, but it slid back in as she straightened. Although his cock (still wrapped in her panties) had started to deflate upon her entry, it had reinvigorated with the vision of her nipples and thick bush and now this brief glimpse of her exposed left tit brought his huge cock to full erection again. "Morning daddy, I brought you some breaky," she said with a smile that bathed his soul in warmth and made his cock throb. "Thanks gorgeous," he said and lent over and gave her another kiss, this time lightly on her sweet full lips as he stole a quick look down the neck of her nightie to be rewarded with an all too brief uninterrupted view of her large suckable nipples. Bianca then surprised him by quickly slipping into bed beside him, her nightie riding up to her waist as she did so and he catching an unimpeded view of her huge hairy sex for an all too short 2 seconds before she pulled the sheet up. She then grabbed the tray and sat up in bed beside him chatting as they ate and drank. Her thigh was now naked to the waist and their naked thighs touched as they talked. His cock would not go down and it was lucky that the breakfast tray hid his massive erection. Bianca had noticed her father's erection under the sheets when she entered the room. She had also thought she had caught a glimpse of light blue satin near her father's groin as she lifted to enter the bed. By pretending to shift and get comfortable in the bed, she had managed to briefly brush her thigh close to her father's cock and had felt what was unmistakably the feel of satin. The sheets were cotton. Bianca was now sure that her daddy had her light blue panties (that she had taken off and put in the laundry basket last night) now wrapped around his erect man-cock. She saw her chance. Bianca picked up the now finished breakfast tray and placed it on the bedside table, then turned back and rested sitting up on the pillows with her father. "Daddy, you know that expensive black Armani dress I tried on at the mall with you last night, do you think you could buy it for my birthday?" she asked as she fluttered her eyes seductively at him. "Oh baby, I don't know. It is very expensive at $1,500." Bianca turned more toward him, purposely letting one shoulder strap of her nightie slide off. Daddy was mesmerized and briefly lost for words as Bianca's nightie slid low on one side exposing her luscious right breast to his lustful gaze. He assumed Bianca was unaware of this and he was not about to tell her immediately as he enjoyed his lurid vision of her tit. "Oh, and daddy, what about that lovely black pearl necklace, could I have that too, with those black gorgeous Gucci shoes." He was momentarily brought back to reality as he realized Bianca was talking about a $4,000 outlay. Even though he could well afford it, it was much more than he had planned spending. "Oh baby, it is such a lot of money you know." Bianca looked at her father and smiled as she had a plan, a plan that would get her daddy's cock and the expensive outfit. In a move that was smooth and deceptively fast she slid the sheets off the both of them. Her father was greeted to an uninterrupted full view of his daughter's gloriously huge pubic bush and he was momentarily so entranced by that lovely vision of her hairy sex that he overlooked what he was exposing. Bianca gazed in a combination of satisfaction, amusement and lust at her father's huge erect throbbing cock. It was half hidden by her blue satin panties that were wrapped around the gorgeous thick subject of her desire, but his cock-head was exposed and pre-cum was oozing profusely and a dark stain showed where it had even soaked into her panties. "Oh daddy, daddy, what are you doing, you've got my panties around your dick?" Her father was immobilized by a combination of embarrassment and fear. Despite the shock of the situation, his cock refused to deflate as he was still exposed to the luscious vision of his daughter's right tit and hairy box. Bianca reached over and placed her hand around his pantie-covered cock and that huge cock started to throb powerfully almost immediately. "Is this for me daddy...Am I who you think about as you masturbate, Daddy? Buy me the outfit, Daddy, and you can fulfill all your desires. You can have everything, Daddy. I will let you do everything you've wanted to do, Daddy, and I will not tell Mom. He was totally stunned at first, then shocked, and then, within seconds, his cock and his lust took over. "Oh, baby, baby, I want to fuck you so bad. You can have it all, baby, just let me have this morning of sex with you, and everything you want is yours." Little did he know it, but Bianca wanted more than just one morning of Daddy-sex; she wanted him to have her all the time, and she was going to make certain she did. In fact, she knew he was going to be her "sex-slave." "Okay, Daddy, do it... do it to me now, for as long as you want. Mom will not be home till late tonight." He groaned and threw the rest of the sheets off and pulled her to him. His mouth met hers, and she opened her lips to receive his tongue. Their mouths meshed in wet passion as tongues caressed, and they tasted each other. Bianca felt her pussy lips expanding with arousal and could feel that she was exceedingly wet and ready for her father's massive cock to invade her. He pushed himself up on his arms and positioned himself over her, with his thighs now wedged between hers. He looked down in lust and ripped her nightie off, tearing it in two with the urgency of his desire to have an unfettered view of both of her heaving tits. He fell upon her right tit and suckled on it, then he fell upon her left tit and suckled, all the time fondling, grabbing and sucking. He slid down and fell upon her hairy sex. He smoothed a path through her forest and found her wet pink lips of heaven, all glistening with her juices and engorged by her arousal. Her clit was large and erect like a little cock about 2 inches long. He sucked it, kissed it and stuck his tongue into her... he tasted her, she tasted divine... he suckled on her clit and cunt lips like a man possessed. He was possessed, possessed of an insatiable desire to ravage his 14-year-old daughter. Bianca spread her thighs and cried out, "Stick it into me, Daddy... stick your fat Daddy-cock into me now." He slid up her firm, yielding body and positioned his monster cock at the entrance to the tunnel of heavenly pleasure... his daughter's cunt. She looked down with awe and lust to see and feel that huge Daddy-cock throbbing and caressing her slit and clit. "Do it, Daddy! Do it! Do it to me! Fuck your cock into me! Into meeeee!!" He lunged and thrust, and 8 fat, throbbing inches of incestuous Daddy-cock slid into her... into her warm, wet, pulsing daughter cunt. "Oh, Daddy, Daddy, I love it. Your cock is lovely, sex is lovely. Fuck me hard, Daddy! Fuck me all day long, Daddy!" Their joint arousal was so high that both were already on the cusp of orgasm. "Gonna cum, baby... can't stop it, baby... have to pull out... have to pull out as I'm about to cum." Bianca grabbed his arse firmly with both hands, his hard, smooth, muscular, thrusting arse, and cried out, "Cum in me, Daddy! Cum in me, Daddy! Fill me with Daddy cream now! Fill me all up! Fill me up with spunk, Daddy!! Lots of Daddy-spunk!! Come on, do it to me!!" It was too much. He could not resist, despite the fear of impregnating his 15-year-old daughter. His cock was in control. He let out a primal cry and groaned and thrust into her powerfully, trying to get all his cock and balls into her cunt. The first thick rope of cream came surging out like a fire hose full of spunk. She felt it. "Oh, yes, Daddeeee... my Daddy is spurting sperm into me... make a baby in me, Daddy... make a baby." He grunted and rooted her like a stallion possessed as he discharged spurt after thick spurt of creamy sperm. His huge ball sack carried a massive amount of sperm. Bianca counted 15 thick spurts of spunk, apart from his generous post-spurt oozing; his creamy discharge went on for over a minute. She got pregnant that weekend. Bianca's mother cancelled her return home on Saturday night and came home Monday morning. By then, Bianca and Daddy had fucked 12 times, and he had unloaded liters of creamy sperm into her fertile cunt.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/32/bianca.txt
58,441	Kelly (Mouse) Robinson	Honeymoon At Home	You'll never know how many times I've thought back to this time, this is a true story. The night of my honeymoon. It all began that night instead of me and my husband John having a romantic honeymoon at an exotic resort, there we were, with 3 of his bachelor buddies playing cards. What a way to spend the honeymoon, and I was sulking, I admit it. Anyway, realizing that this was our reality, I changed into some shorts and a loose-fitting top and joined them at the kitchen table. There was a lot of smoking, drinking, etcetera. Then all of a sudden the card game turned into strip poker. When I refused to play, I sensed the mood turn to tension and I retired to our bedroom. Then about 10 minutes later John joined me with drinks in hand saying that he was sorry, that he hadn't meant anything. We kissed and he lay down beside me. As he began fondling my breasts through the material of my blouse, I asked, "What about our company?" He insisted that they would be leaving in a little while. Well after our rather strong drinks that he fed me and his constant massaging of my breasts and other hot and bothered parts, I was kind of just letting it happen. John is very good in bed and a very macho man with a body any woman would be turned on by. I remember as my husband John was kissing me and feeling me up, seeing Carl, Frank, Tony, Ryan and Mark undressing and either climbing into our bed or standing around us with their dicks in their hands. I lay there stunned, a thousand emotions ran through my mind in just a few heartbeats. Then suddenly, hands were caressing me and touching me everywhere as my husband caressed my hair, whispering in my ear that he loved me. I squirmed as Carl and Frank each took my outer pussy lips and spread them open and held each lip into their mouths. I vaguely remember that Mark and Ryan were holding my arms, restraining me. Feelings of shame, betrayal, love and hate and even sexual excitement overwhelmed me. I was being raped, gang-raped. And my wonderful husband John, was helping his buddies do this to me. Then with a grunt, I realized that I was making love to my husband's best friend, Tony. He had climbed on top of me and I vaguely felt his stiff cock slip into me and his kisses became and groping became more and more passionate and urgent as he began thrusting. I was no virgin and I was so out of it that I found my body responding to his thrusts. I found myself rocking my hips as Carl's tongue flicked into my ear and Frank's hand tweaked a nipple in rhythm to Tony's thrusts. My husband's hands caressed my face and ears, different fingers trailed up and down my neck. Tony was going to town on me and I could feel my orgasm rising deep within me I hugged him to me and began thrusting back at him crying out my pleasure. "See! I told ya she'd love it!" my husband said to his friends. "Do you want more than one hard dick inside you baby?" I faintly hearing my husband ask, but I didn't respond, I was so conflicted, and Tony's body on top of me felt so nice I wanted to concentrate on that. Then I felt Tony's body stiffen on top of me and he thrust one last time and ground himself against me and grunted softly as he emptied himself in me. I hugged him tightly and wrapped my legs around him and held him in me, feeling like such a slutty whore. When Tony was finally done cumming in me he pulled out and laid beside me panting. I looked up at John who was kneeling beside me on the other side and asked confused, "Why are you doing this? Why are you sharing me with your friends." I was dazed, but Tony's vigorous drubbing of me had left me wanting more, I realized. My husband's only answer was, "I love to see your sex-soaked pussy lips wrapped around the damp thrusting shaft of another man, baby." "OHH!" I howled as my hips gyrated over Carl's strong tongue. He had crawled up between my legs and had just shoved his tongue into my slick slit. It felt soothing as he flicked his tongue again and again over my swollen clit. I vaguely wondered what I must taste like after having been so vigorously fucked by Tony. After a bit Carl climbed further up my body and positioned himself over me, then he suddenly shoved the full length of his long thick cock into me, making a loud grunt. My eyes opened wide, I cried out at the intensity of being filled with his huge meat. My hips jerked upward against his as I wrapped my legs around him locking heels across his buttocks, and tightly holding him as deeply in me as possible. Then he was grunting with each thrust as he slammed his swollen length into my pussy. I held on for dear life as he used my body for his violent pleasure. I was nothing more than a receptacle to him, but for some reason it appealed to me and made me hot as hell for him. My toes clenched above Carl's buttocks as my body contracted under him. Soon, his back arched in ecstasy as he pumped his hot sperm deep into me, finally collapsing on top of me. Finally after he'd had a chance to catch his breath, Carl rolled off me and stood up beside the bed. I could see his semi-erect penis dripping cum, all slick with both of our juices, and I imagined some of Tony's cum too. Not giving me a moment's rest, John positioned himself above my head and holding my wrists, he pulled my arms over my head and held them in place with one hand while Frank wedged his legs between mine. He then forced my thighs apart with his knees and put his long hard dick against the opening of my sloppy pussy with his free hand. In one downward push, he brutally shoved his cock into me to the hilt. I gasped as he was the biggest of them all. I wasn't sure I liked this any more and struggled to pull away, but John enjoyed all the screaming and fighting and even at times mockingly told me how sexy I looked being fucked by his buddies. He even encouraged me to fight them. While Frank fucked me hard and fast, the other guys were all around me squeezing, rubbing, poking, kissing, licking and sucking my entire body as Frank grunted and rammed me with all his strength. Meanwhile, Carl's dripping semi-erect cock had moved to my face, and then he was shoving it toward my lips. John held my head in place and I could feel Carl's slimy dickhead against my lips. Then I was sucking it, cleaning it with my tongue. I was so turned on by being so used like this, what was one more cock. Reaching around my shoulders, Frank pinned my body in rhythmic and fluid motion only capable on a waterbed, and he arched his hips upward while he held me tightly, increasing his pace. I was unable to move, except for my hips. Thank god Carl's cock was no longer clogging my air passage because my breath escaped in small puffs as Frank bore his weight down on top of me, filling me with his mammoth cock. The waterbed made gradually louder slopping sounds under our movements. With my eyes half closed, I bucked and writhed underneath Frank, the pleasure of his enormous cock filling my pussy again and again and again was just too much. His back muscles strained with the effort to drive his tool upward, deep into me. The muscles of in my stomach and inner thighs quaked uncontrollably as my hips jerked forward, harder and faster, as I ground my body into his. I felt so used, like such a whore as I stared into my husband's eyes while hugging Frank with total submission to his need. My body was on fire as I felt myself oozing onto the bed underneath us. I no longer cared that this had started out without my consent, all I wanted now was for Frank to cum deeply inside me, to feel his load spurting hotly into my fiery depths. Just seeing my husband's smile as he looked on and knowing how wrong this was and what was being done to me, made me crazy. He looked as if he enjoyed having all these men fuck me as hard as they could, emptying their loads of cum into me over and over, I couldn't quite understand it. Even though I'd ended up enjoying this gangbang, and was physically enjoying Frank's monster cock plowing just then, I was deep down, embarrassed and hurt. There I was on my back, hugging one of my husband's friends as he drove his slimy cock into me shooting miles of his cum into me while I lay there looking into my husband's eyes. "You love the feeling of Frank's dick, don't you honey?" John asked quietly as Frank began to thrust faster, coming closer to his release. I wanted to tell him that I was disgusted by all this, by what he'd made me feel, but I held back. Then John said, "Baby, if you tell me you want to stop, we'll stop right now." Frank heard John say that and picked up the pace.I seriously wondered if John could have stopped his buddy at that moment, but Frank was just too close to stop now. And it was strange, but Frank's intense need to get off only made me hornier. I hugged his heaving body to me and began to violently work my hips up against his, needing to cum just as badly as he did. "You love to be fucked like this, don't you, honey?" John was leaning down, whispering in my ear as Frank grunted and thrust into me. Somehow, Frank dug even deeper into me with each thrust. In a hoarse cry, I said, "YES! YES, I LIKE IT!" Frank's glistening, wet cock was now violently sliding in my hand and into my cunt. I opened my legs wide, wanting him to finish. I felt like his width was forcing my legs wide apart. And then Frank was frantic, thrusting deeper and faster. I groaned, "YES, FRANK, YES! DEEPER! OH, DON'T STOP, PLEASE! GIVE IT TO ME! HARDER, FRANK, DEEPER, YES! YES!" I was well on my way to another climax now. Then, suddenly, I went off like a stick of dynamite. My pussy started clenching, trying to suck Frank's cock into my body. "FUCK ME, FRANK, FUCK ME! OH GOD, YESSS!" I screamed like a wild animal as I came... and then came again. Frank was still going strong, humping me to one orgasm after another, until I was a quivering mess on the waterbed under him. Finally, yes, finally, Frank clenched his butt and shoved hard against me; his cock began squirting deep inside of me. He was cumming so hard, I could actually feel the jets of hot sperm ricocheting deep along the walls to my womb. Finally, Frank's sweating, heaving body came to rest on top of me. We were both soaking wet, and the room smelled like a sperm factory. I took deep breaths, breathing in the smell of all the testosterone. As I lay there with John's buddies' mixed cum oozing from my swollen pussy lips, I realized that I had never been so satisfied in my whole life, sexually, before. The feeling of multiple men's cum all mixed up inside me made me want to literally purr. All the while, this gangbang had gone on, John had been looking down at me, smiling. Finally, after Frank pulled out of me and Tony handed me a towel, I sat up and said, "John, you know, now that you've got me your buddies' plaything, we'll have to do it again." John smiled broadly and said, "I was hoping you'd say that, honey." I looked around at all the naked men in various states of exhaustion and smiled, "Yes, I think your buddies ought to move in with us so I can pick and choose who and how many I want every night." John's eyes widened, and I saw that suddenly he looked worried. He hadn't thought I would like this sort of thing THAT MUCH! The End	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/48/honeymoon.txt
58,567	Peter_Pan	Making the Grade	Young Cassandra looked with some satisfaction at the paper handed back to her. An "A" was inscribed there in red marker, followed somewhat enigmatically she thought, by "Please see me after class." Idly she flipped through the essay, reveling in the little compliments written in the margin. "Great use of metaphor" was one, "Excellent ironic overtone" another. Never mind that she had never intended a metaphor, let alone an ironic overtone, she pondered. If Mr. Jamieson had seen them, all the better for her. No, it was the hastily scribbled footnote that had her curious. Maybe he wanted to save her paper as an example for next year's class? Shrugging, she packed up the rest of her belongings with everyone else, letting the happy if not eclectic Friday chatter swirl around her. Finally, the bell rang and there was a frantic rush for the door. Cassandra longed to join her friends, but she could hardly overlook the directive from her teacher. So instead, she sat at her desk and watched him sort through some notes. His eyebrows arched in concentration, furrowing his broad forehead; he blew a lock of unruly brown hair out of his eyes from time to time. He wasn't, she decided, an unattractive man! Just as Cassandra was starting to believe he'd forgotten his note, he looked up and focused his attention on her. "Miss Peters, please come here." Surprised by the sternness in his voice, Cassandra walked up to his desk. He looked at her solemnly. "Honestly, Miss Peters, I don't know what to do with you. You haven't attended seven classes this semester, and the absences aren't excused. I have to say that yes, you have turned in every assignment and to be honest, blown me away with your writing skills. However, with the end of the semester approaching, I must warn you that you have only a C-minus in this class. Attendance, I'm afraid, is unavoidably twenty percent of the grade." Cassandra gaped at him. "A C-MINUS? But Mr. Peters, my parents expect me to get into Princeton... I MUST have an A." Mr. Peters sighed, "I don't know what you want me to say, Cassandra. Did you really expect to pass this class with flying colors based on your essays alone?" Cassandra bit her lip and stared at the floor. Yes, she had hoped that might be the case, she realized. The reality was just too much for her, and she began to cry. "It wasn't my fault, Mr. Jamieson," she sobbed, "Mom had to spend a lot of time in the hospital after the auto accident, and I just needed to stay at home to help out. Dad doesn't get back till real late, and I had to do the cooking...everything." Backing up to the nearest desk, she slumped forlornly in the wooden chair. "You CAN'T give me a C-Minus... please!!" He looked at her compassionately. "They're not my rules, Cassandra," he responded slowly. "They are set down by the educational bodies, and however much I wish I could change them for you, I can't! I know about the accident, I know you've had it really tough at home for quite a while, but you simply never brought in those signed absentee notes I asked you for. You really have left me no choice here." Silent tears running freely now down her pretty face, she looked across at him. Even with full attendance and three more straight "A's", the best she could hope for come end of semester was a B plus. It wasn't enough. Crying wasn't going to address the situation she realized. When 'you're desperate', she reasoned, you use whatever tools are available. "Won't you please reconsider, Mr. Jamieson," she asked softly, "I'll do anything - absolutely anything you want." The balance of power was definitely shifting. This was a situation completely outside the thirty-five-year-old teacher's experience. Even as he responded, the uncertainty in his voice was evident. "Are you meaning what I think you're meaning, Cassandra?" he all but stuttered. She just stared hard at the desktop. "I have to get an 'A' in English, Mr. Jamieson, don't you understand that? I have to." He looked at her with a kaleidoscope of emotions running unchecked through his grey matter. Despite the fact he was a decent man with a strong moral fiber, the truth was he now realized that Cassandra appealed to him over and above that which might be considered appropriate in any teacher-student relationship. Whilst he had never actually gotten to the stage of contemplating any sort of marital infidelity in the past, he had to admit that on more than one occasion, the sight of this particular student's curvy little bottom exiting the classroom had imprinted itself on his subconscious. "I don't think that is really what you want, Miss Peters," he announced with little assurance, realizing even as he spoke that the statement made no reference to any reticence from his own standpoint. If any retreat had been planned - no one had mentioned it to the cavalry! The girl stood up and was staring at her teacher with a mixture of embarrassment and trepidation. "We could both be dismissed, you know?" he muttered. She nodded but took no backward step. The prominent blush in her cheeks he found most attractive. "Think maybe I had better take some precautions," he added nervously, intentionally avoiding all eye contact as he walked past her to the far end of the room, whereupon he turned the key in the lock. Having regained the relative security of his own desk, he sat in the chair and motioned to Cassandra to step forward. Hands at her sides, she approached him. Observing the girl more with studious appraisal than any lustful intent, he took in her slim figure, pretty rather than overt breasts, beautiful facial features that at just eighteen now had blossomed to technical adulthood. She looked considerably younger, he mused. Patting his knee, he extended an arm towards her. Sensing his own extreme lack of confidence under the circumstances, she allowed herself to be drawn down onto his lap, where the playing field was anything but level, she couldn't help but notice. As her flush deepened and he in turn became aware of the reason for such, he decided that time was of the essence. Galvanized into action by a combination of her youthful femininity and the sensation of so sexy a little bottom atop his crotch, he allowed himself the luxury of slipping an arm around her waist. He felt her tense up, but figuring this was no time to be indecisive, slipped his hand upwards and, enclosing the girl's entire right breast, squeezed the softness within. Letting out a shocked gasp, she instinctively pulled his hand away. "I think the words you used were 'I'll do absolutely ANYTHING you want' were they not, Cassandra?" "I'm sorry...nerves I guess, Mr. Jamieson," she muttered, "I've never done anything like this before." She allowed him to restore contact with her breast, and even as he began to grope her gently, she felt the adrenaline kick in. The feeling wasn't wholly unpleasant, she had to admit. "Are you still a virgin then, m'dear?" he asked tremulously, the sensation of squeezing this particular teenage student's hot little breasts rendering him positively light-headed. "Uh huh!" she replied, her eyes watching as both his hands now felt her up with a growing confidence. Whatever that physiological reaction was manifesting itself between her legs, it was nothing she could classify as a hardship. "You are such a pretty girl, Cassandra," he whispered, "I'm not hurting you doing this, am I?" "No, Mr. Jamieson, it's OK," she replied. "Oh, and you needn't refer to me as 'Mr. Jamieson' any more either," he smiled at her. "Hardly appropriate under the circumstances is it?" he added. "Just call me Craig." For a moment or two, silence reigned as he continued fondling the girl's breasts, increasingly aware of her unforced arousal, courtesy of those delightfully hardening nipples that her thin blouse was doing less than nothing to shield from his finger exploratory. "May I kiss you?" he asked her suddenly. Simply the bizarre attending circumstances - a young female student being sexually assaulted on the knee of a way older teacher and he asks her for a kiss? - made her involuntarily giggle. The humor of the moment was cut short, however, as their lips met. Kissing, though not unfamiliar to the girl, had been limited to a few close friends of her own age - girls and boys if the truth be known. Never, though, had she experienced such familiarity with a man in his thirties, and thus despite both the age-difference and the inappropriate scholastic connections, she had to admit this was a step-up in class. From Craig's viewpoint, this surely was the epitome of every male fantasy. Groping unrestrictedly a sexy teenage girl while kissing her hard on the lips, even as her bottom continued playing havoc with his procreative equipment-in-waiting....They Don't Write Better Screenplays! Beginning now to undo the top few buttons of her blouse, she gasped softly as he exposed her low-cut bra and dynamically arousing cleavage, a frilly little number, more concerned with fashion than support, one assumes. It was the work of but a moment to slip his fingers inside her left cup. She gave a little gasp as they brushed across her engorged nipple and was fully unable to prevent a blush from coloring her cheeks. He wasn't looking at her cheeks though, and using either hand now, began manipulating both nipples, which achieved two things. Her bra was, of course, worked low enough that both breasts were almost fully exposed to his vitally interested gaze, and her fine dark nipples became even more distended as his fingers worked their dexterous magic. As for Cassandra, she could hardly believe she was sitting willingly on a man's lap, pretty much topless, allowing herself to be molested at will. Of greater concern, her body seemed in no hurry to be sending out May Day calls. If she didn't know better, it was relishing this newly come-by learning curve. "May as well take these off," he murmured to no one in particular, as he undid the rest of the buttons before peeling off her blouse and tossing it on his desk. Even as he unhooked her bra and began pulling the straps down her arms, Cassandra just sat there, justifiably proud of her firm young breasts that, freed now of their social constraints, drew an appreciative if not limited audience. Inclining his head, he had barely even closed the gap between lip and nipple when she pushed him back firmly. "No, you can't do that, Craig," she admonished. "Oh, I think I can, Cass," he smiled. "You're not even close to a C plus yet!" Reluctantly, she withdrew her arm and sat there rather prettily, he observed - an obedient fourth grader, waiting for permission to read aloud her essay. As he first kissed her breast before teasing the nipple with his tongue, she let out a small whimper, beginning to wriggle on his lap in embarrassment. Craig, however, was far from embarrassed, and as the texture of her nipple combined with the vaguely milky smell of the breast itself, wholly absorbed his concentration. He began to draw down on her teat, completely transported by the combination of recalled childhood comfort and the sexual arousal such an act unavoidably generated. For her part, Cassandra found herself in a whole new ball-park - one where adults played quite obviously. Unaware she was letting out small gasps of pleasure, she held his head against her breasts as he suckled her, first one side then the other. The harder he drew down, the stronger the communications being exchanged with vaginal HQ. As the messages grew more urgent, she could not avoid slipping a hand onto her lap and depressing an area of her skirt that, in other circumstances, might be described as 'interesting.' Fondling that which he wasn't already sucking, Craig was a man on a mission. No girl should be this sexy, he decided. Wondering just how he could ever face up to her again in class, he was suddenly distracted by the proximity of the girl's hand in her own lap. On little more than auto-pilot, he slipped his hand up beneath her skirt - she was, after all, sitting almost side-saddle. This most assuredly brought a reaction. "No, not up there...please!" Her sharp intake of breath, shocked expression, and rapid closure of her legs might, in other circumstances, have acted as some deterrent, but when a man has just about blown his wad sucking a girl's bare breasts while she wriggles sexily on his knee, you really can't expect a total withdrawal of all active troops. Besides, there was, unfortunately for Cassandra, an unfulfilled contract to see out, and of which she was quickly reminded. "If a B Minus is enough for you, m'dear, we'll call it a day then," he smirked at her. "Your choice, sweetheart!" Even as her legs parted, at least to the extent that her tight little skirt would permit, a delicate frown flitted across her face. "You really shouldn't be doing this, Craig," she muttered. "I only meant for you to have a feel." "Well, that's all I'm doing, Cassandra," he grinned, insinuating his hand well up between her thighs where the heat was - if not volcanic...a tad on the warm side. The blush returned, and with now the twin pleasures of seeing the young girl's breasts jiggling each time she wriggled her hips, as well as the hem of her skirt riding high up her legs, he was made even more aware of his pained erection that was struggling for survival in that land-locked cavity beneath her bottom. That she must have been aware of the caged serpent on hand could not be in doubt. In fact, Cassandra was cognizant of Craig's little problem, and despite herself, the imminent presence of so sexual a threat was only adding to her own escalating arousal. His hands reached the front of her panties...sexy little white cotton briefs that already were peeking out beneath her indecently rumpled skirt. Adding to the visual delights one couldn't help but notice, the contrast between the soft white skin of her thighs and the roll tops of those fishnet leggings she had selected to wear that morning. At the point he began rubbing her intimately, both were locked in to their respective countdowns, even if they didn't yet know it. "God, Cassandra, that feels so sexy," he whispered to the young girl as she struggled emotionally to deal with what was being perpetrated upon her hitherto unchallenged innocence. Trying to balance the reality of having to allow her teacher unrestricted sexual access with the knowledge that such was inherently wrong was inhibiting her thought processes. Added to this was the realization that her body was taking extreme pleasure from his caresses and tactile indulgencies. As he began to kiss her, she felt all resistance crumbling and was even unaware she had spread her legs wider to accommodate his aggravated up-skirt therapy. He could feel the dampness through the thin material, and rubbing her now the full depth of her vaginal ingress, she was freely moaning and encouraging further interplay. Slipping a finger up beneath the leg of her panties, he located the clitoral hood with little difficulty and set up a vibratory assault there, which ultimately would be taking no prisoners, he knew. Completely adrift from any world she had ever known, the girl was emitting small cries of pleasure now as the pressure built to intolerable levels. "Don't stop, don't stop," she pleaded, even as he fingered her to the edge of reason. Using two fingers, he could feel how engorged she was and how taut her young pussy had become under his relentless digital massage. The moisture on site was simply the icing on the cake - proof indeed that you really can't beat the hands-on approach. Limited in dialog to "Ohhhh," Cassandra was suddenly lost in the perfect storm. As the shock waves eddied out in concentric circles, causing her hips and bottom to wriggle, her nipples to tingle, and her pussy to bear the brunt of the ensuing seismic rift, she didn't even hear herself cry out with pleasured release. Craig did...he was even privy to the onset of some pre-cum now overflowing rather pointlessly beneath the young girl's sexy little posterior. Unable to bear further stimulation temporarily, she pulled his hand out of her panties. "That was so incredible," she volunteered. She made as if to disengage herself from his lap. "And where do you think you're off to, young lady?" he asked her. "Just going to put my bra and top back on," she replied. "I think not, Cass," he said, taking a hold of her arm. "What you can do, though, is take that hot little skirt off now...always had a hankering to see a girl your age running around my classroom in just her panties." "That's disgusting, Mr. Jamieson," she gasped. "Oh, it's back to 'Mr. Jamieson' now, is it?" he chided her. "Well, no matter, I suppose...makes it sound even sexier. Naughty student misbehaving and all." "I'm not gonna parade around here in just my panties," she announced defiantly. "That's totally off!" He smiled at her. "Well, speaking of things being 'off,' sweetheart, although you definitely made B Plus with that last little performance, you are still adrift from any Princeton ranking, I'm afraid, so I guess you're just gonna have to do what your teacher tells you. It's that or you take the B Plus." Aware she was trapped and without any aces left to play, she sighed and then, simply unhooking the small clasp, she ran the zipper down and let the skirt fall to the floor. The now fully awesome aspect of probably the grade's prettiest student, stranded mid-classroom solely in her leggings and a pair of white panties close to three sizes too small for her, almost robbed Craig Jamieson of his remaining sanity. Trying to cover up both nipples and her rather pronounced camel toe was a task and a half. It merely drew attention, however, to her rampant femininity. That isn't to say Craig wasn't taking the greatest pleasure in eying off the girl's unwanted predicament. Had he stood up himself, though, Cassandra might have been equally fascinated by proceedings, especially those some six inches or so beneath his belt-buckle. Indicating that she should 'approach the bench' as it were, he coerced her verbally to return to the seat of power, taking her hand as she neared him and, at the last moment, having her turn around so he could admire the sculptor's work from the rear. There was much to admire. She flinched as he smoothed both hands down her cheeks, taking the greatest delight in observing the line of that beautiful cleft as it sank from view beneath the waistband of her panties - the ultimate event-horizon one might deduce."Don't take them down, please," she yelped as he tugged at the soft material suddenly, revealing more than half her naked bottom to his gaze. Patting her right cheek suggestively, he allowed her to pull them back up to hip level. "Tell you what, Cassandra," he said, still toying with her rear-end somewhat indecently, "I'll give you a choice. Either you take your panties off now in front of me, or I let you put that skirt back on first and then I take them off for you?" "If I let you do that, Mr. Jamieson, can I please go home then?" she replied, none too confidently. "We'll have to see about that, sweetheart," he answered. "I guess you HAVE been a good and compliant little girl this afternoon." Retrieving her skirt, she had no sooner zipped it up when he put his arms around her waist and pulled her to him. Fully off balance, she fell back on his lap just as his hands found their way up beneath her hem once again and began re-familiarizing themselves with the architectural delights between her legs. Her eyes closed, she allowed him to molest her unhindered. "Stand up for me, Cass," he instructed. No sooner had she done so, than he took a hold of the waistband and with his face but inches now from her curvy little rear, peeled her undies past her leggings and down to her ankles. Obligingly, she stepped out of them. "Does that feel sexy, sweetheart?" he asked, "standing there in just a short skirt with no panties on?" The truth was - it did, but she was not about to share such intimate home-truths. A full-scale discussion on the subject was never even to reach gestation stage, however, since his grip around her waist tightened at that moment and with the least exertion, he pulled her back onto his knee. She gave a small cry of surprise that was replaced by one of genuine shock. Straddling his knee as she now was, her parted legs revealed a hitherto uncharted actuality. Not only unzipped, her teacher's erection announced its clear intent, standing to attention there between her thighs, in honored tribute to the Star Spangled Banner quite obviously. "No way," she cried out, "you're not going to fuck me too, are you?" She tried unsuccessfully to exit the playing field. "Well, Cass, I wouldn't have put it quite that indelicately," his arm around her waist tightened. "But you have latched on to the general direction of things here. Think of it as your 'final exam,' sweetheart. I'll be gentle." "No...please..." she sobbed. "I'm a virgin...I could get pregnant." Suddenly lost in some excruciatingly hot images that her words generated, he was silent for a few seconds. "Cassandra," he responded eventually, "This isn't a multiple-choice question, I'm afraid. You want an 'A' - you let me fuck you here and now. What's it to be? You needn't worry about pregnancy either, there are pills, you know!" Naively, she hadn't even considered it might have come to this. Her tears were real, and she regretted now ever embarking on such a drastic course of action. As she looked at her teacher's erection, however, its very proximity was arousing to her, she had to admit. Perhaps the concept was worse than the reality? Idly, she took a hold of it. "I'll take that as a 'yes' then," he whispered, following up with a kiss just below her right ear. She really smelt so young and inviting. Not too many girls lose their virginity straddling their English teacher's lap butt naked, save for a skirt of such brief proportions. In actuality, the window of opportunity, as it were, at that angle, favors the uninitiated, as the girl is fully able to control the degree of penetration simply by spreading her legs marginally or using her feet pretty much while standing, to absorb the pressure on her hymen at any given moment. This isn't to say it didn't hurt her. Although he was true to his promise, very gentle and respectful of her virginal state, making headway was slow, and Cassandra was wincing in pain up to the moment she herself relaxed sufficiently to allow him to push up finally into the Promised Land. The sensations afforded her nervous system as she felt him suddenly penetrate her vagina deeply quite outstripped his own pleasures. She eased herself lower, fascinated to see his quite large erection sinking into her most intimate of orifices with such apparent ease. She could see a few spots of blood, but the pain of the past few minutes was obliterated by what he was now doing to her. Something less than cool, calm, and collected himself, after all the illicit pleasures to be had, penetrating a sexy young virgin on your lap, her bottom jiggling inches from your face while you grope her breasts stupid, - never mind her being one of your students - does have its appeal! Establishing eventually a rhythmic upthrust, he could hear Cassandra's breathing following the same line as his own - tortured to the point of pleasurable agony. Holding her hips tightly, he was entering that wonderfully tight little chasm - one that she evidently kept hairless and smooth - with increased purpose. "You are so sexy, sweetheart," he offered up in full praise of younger women generally. "I could....." He never got to finish the sentence as, right at that moment, someone called out "Fire in the hold." Her eyes closed in orgasmic bliss, she felt something hot and sticky spraying deep inside her. For a full ten seconds, she was unable to find the "off" switch as her vaginal muscles refused to unclamp their prey whilst her hips continued their automated downward thrusting. The post-coital experience for both protagonists was one of pleasured respiratory re-affirmation. Their systems were re-set! Slumped in his chair up alongside the blackboard, Craig Jamieson felt all of his thirty-five years. The last thing he was expecting was the young girl to turn around, hands provocatively sliding across her glistening pussy - the ultimate Cheshire Cat... on heat! "I'd really like to make SURE I get a straight 'A' Sir!"	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/48/making.txt
58,880	Beating Off Bob	The School Marm	Young widowed school marm Livvy gets snowed into her one-room schoolhouse with a young man and set of siblings. They're going to have to huddle to keep warm - and the boys refuse to huddle with each other. As everybody knows, friction makes heat and things heat up nicely! (F/m-teen, ped, reluc, voy, inc, 1st, size, rom, preg) Livvy Tyler hummed to herself as she got the room ready for school. It wasn't much of a schoolhouse, to her mind, but it was all she had. It was about halfway between the "towns" of Red Rock and Lone Elm, as neither town could afford its own school. That put the school about seven miles from each, which, in 1843, meant she had to get up in the dark, saddle her horse, and ride hard to get there before her students did. All of them were from farm or ranching families, and they were used to getting up at four in the morning. She wasn't. But, she didn't have much choice. She'd been lucky enough to land a good husband after she finished college back east, and unlucky that he'd died within a month and a half of the fever. Now, a 22-year-old widow, she had to teach school to live. It wasn't really all that bad a life, she thought to herself. She loved the lonely plains around her and had a nice house the mayor had said she could live in. It was built of sod, but tight and cozy. She wished the schoolhouse had been built of sod too, but the two towns coughed up enough to build a frame building, twelve by twelve feet, with a window in the west wall and a door in the north one. Three homemade tables, three chairs, and two nail kegs comprised the furniture, if you didn't count the old pot-bellied stove. She smiled at the horse blankets on the walls. That was the one bright spot. She'd been introduced to the local friendly Indians when she got there and had fallen in love with their weaving. She had collected, so far, eight blankets, four of which she'd brought to school to brighten the place up. It had taken the last of the few pieces of jewelry she'd owned to get them, but, then, she didn't need the jewelry anyway. There wasn't much market for a widow in these parts, except for the cowboys, and they didn't have anything to offer. Well, nothing she was interested in, anyway. Of course, they were all interested in HER. But all they wanted was to climb in the saddle and ride a while. They weren't interested in setting up house. Not to say she didn't miss her "saddle time". Before Jim had gotten sick, she'd had three weeks of intense and extremely enjoyable sex with him. Then he wasted away and died, and she was so devastated she had pushed all thoughts of pleasure out of her mind. That was two years ago. She still thought about sex once in a while, but decided she didn't miss it all that much. Unfortunately, the times she had been thinking about it lately involved one of her students. That would be Josh Wilson, she thought to herself. At 18, he was long past school age, but as one of nine children, and the eldest, his father had dreams of him going to college back east and becoming a lawyer who could then support the rest of the family. Or at least supplement the ranch, which wasn't doing all that bad. Anyway, he was a good-looking boy, strong as a bull, with an even temperament who was unfailingly polite to her and helpful with the other children. He often helped her by explaining things to them in terms they were familiar with. He taught math by asking combinations of numbers of cattle in a herd, the gestation period for a heifer, the number of cows a bull could service in a day, and things like that. The first time she'd heard him talking about such things, she'd started to upbraid him for being crude, but the child he was talking to "got it" so quickly she held her tongue. Now she knew the value of his techniques. This year she had four more students. There were Rusty Powers and his sister Jean. They were both approaching the normal marriage age in these parts quickly, though neither had yet reached sixteen years. There was Timmy Spencer, who had only recently received his very first pistol and could hardly lift it, and Donna Malone, who was the Banker's daughter and held herself to be better than the others. She was somewhere around eleven or twelve. Livvy put two more logs in the stove. It was bitterly cold, being January on the plains. About all they supplied to burn was Cottonwood logs, which burned fast, with little heat, but it was better than nothing. At least she had plenty stacked up on the north wall, just outside the door. She'd been given a buffalo coat by the store owner after she audited his books and found several discrepancies that made him some money, and now she was glad. Without that, she'd have frozen in this country. She couldn't get away with wearing men's pants, which she'd learned to love during her short marriage, wearing them in the house, where no one could see her. They were easy to take off for her husband, which had been one of her favorite hobbies. Wearing proper dresses was OK in the summer, but in winter, when she had to ride in the cold and wind, it was a real problem. She'd taken to wearing a pair of her husband's leather pants under her skirts to ride to school, which she then took off and hid in the wood pile so the children wouldn't know about them. That left her naked under her skirts during school, but who would ever know? The door to the school opened, and Rusty Powers staggered in. The wind blew the door closed behind him. "Wow, Miss Livvy, that north wind's picking up something fierce," he said as he shrugged off his quilted coat and huddled up to the stove. The door opened again, and his sister jumped through. Her face was red, and she had her hands stuck in each armpit, trying to warm them. "Rusty, we just GOT to talk Pa into letting us ride one of the horses to school. It's too blamed cold to walk." She too was wearing skirts and a thick quilted coat. She huddled up to the stove, elbowing her brother out of the way. A pushing match started, and Livvy cut it short with a simple "Stop that, children." They did so immediately, and without comment, a testament to how highly they held her in their opinion. There was a sound outside, and the door opened again. Josh came in with a huge load of wood in his arms. The wind blew the door closed as he dumped the load on the floor next to the stove. "Starting to snow," he said. Livvy had noticed the large fluffy flakes through the open door. "Looks like it might be a bad one," Josh went on. He too was dressed in a coat made from buffalo hide, and it made him look like a bear or something. At least from the knees up. "Must be near zero," he said. "Creek's plumb froze over." That made Livvy think of the canteen tucked away in her saddle bags. She'd better go get it before it froze. She shrugged into her coat and started for the door. The wind hit her like a fist when she pushed the door open. Her horse was tied out back, where the wind wouldn't hit it directly. There was already snow collecting where it was blowing up against the building. She got her canteen out of the saddle bags, along with the lunch she'd packed. She was about to go back in when the wolf howled. It was close. She looked at the horse. She should take it inside, since it would be helpless out here. She'd just untied it when the wolf howled again, closer now. The horse gave a snort and jerked its head, jerking the reins out of her hand. She lurched for them, but the horse backed away, wild-eyed. The wolf called again, and the horse bolted. She stomped into the school in a foul mood. Josh was there and took the things from her hand. "I heard the horse bolt," he said. "You want me to go after it?" "No, Josh. Thank you. It'll come back. This is the only place in ten miles where there're people. I've never heard a wolf that close, before." "It's the cold," he said. "They get hungry in this kind of cold." She started in the lessons, even though the other children hadn't shown up. In this weather, it wasn't surprising. They were talking about history today, and she spun them a story about the Kings of old, and the Middle Ages, serfdom, and what life had been like. Rusty pointed out that some things were still done that way even today, and they had a pretty good discussion about it. By the time any of them thought to look outside, it was already too late. The storm had hit with a vengeance, and it was a blizzard of immense proportions. In just the two hours they had been engaged, there was already over a foot and a half on the ground. It took both her and Josh to push the door open due to the snow that had piled up against it. They brought more wood inside. "Maybe you all should go on home," Livvy said. Rusty laughed."My boots have holes in them. I ain't walking eight miles in snow that deep. My pa'll bring a sleigh for us when he sees we don't come home. Jean just lifted her skirts high enough to show bare calves, and Livvy realized the snow would come way past her shoes. For that matter, Livvy wasn't going anywhere without her horse. Her pants were already buried in the snow at the end of the wood pile, and they'd be frozen stiff anyway. She looked at Josh. He just shook his head. "I can't leave you all here in this weather alone. We'll just wait for the sleigh." But the snow didn't stop, and when the light began to fail and they went out for wood, they almost couldn't get the door closed again because of the snow clogging it. They had to shovel snow inside the school with a flat piece of firewood to get the door closed. "Looks like we're here for the night," said Josh, like it was no big deal. It WAS a big deal for Livvy though. Something had told her to save her lunch, and Rusty had a whole bag of jerky, so they had something to eat. There was plenty of snow to melt for water. But there wasn't enough wood to last the night. "We've got to get more wood," she said. She and Josh went out in it. They passed logs through the open door to Rusty and he passed them to his sister. By the time they had what Livvy thought was enough, she was frozen through and caked with snow. Josh was too. The snow had gotten under their coats. When they got back inside and it inevitably thawed, they were both wet. Livvy began to shiver almost immediately. Even standing next to the stove didn't warm her, because that part of her that wasn't facing the stove was cold and wet. Jean had been around the frontier long enough to know what needed to be done. "Miss Livvy, you have to get out of those wet clothes. You'll catch your death of pneumonia if you don't get dry and warm." Livvy glared at her. "And just how on earth am I supposed to do that? I have no dry clothes to put on. Just build up the fire. I'll be all right." Now Rusty chimed in, "Miss Livvy, my sister's right. You'll get pneumonia for sure if you stay wet. But we can't build up the fire. For one thing the stove won't hold a lot more, and for another we can't afford to use up all the wood. We don't know how long we're gonna be stuck here. If we run out of wood we might ALL die." "So what am I supposed to do? Take my clothes off in front of you children? And then what? How will I ever get warm?" Her teeth were starting to chatter now. "Miss Livvy," said Jean. "I know you came from back east, but this is the west. Out here you do what you have to to survive, and if that means getting naked then that's what you have to do. I expect there isn't anyone here who hasn't seen what someone of the opposite sex looks like without clothes. And then we'll bundle you up anyway, so no one will see you for long." Livvy glanced at Josh, who had a decidedly blue tinge to his face. He too was grinding his teeth to keep them from clacking together. Looking at him convinced her they might be in real trouble. "Turn around," she ordered them firmly. While they faced away from her Livvy undid the buttons and hooks and clasps of her dress. 'Oh my goodness, what if they see I'm not wearing any underwear?' she thought to herself in panic. "Don't any of you turn around until I tell you to." she ordered again. Rusty snickered, but she was too cold to scold him. At last she was naked. She felt exposed, even though no one was looking at her. She darted to the wall and tore down an Indian blanket. It only covered her from her knees to just above her breasts, but that was better than nothing. She scurried back to the stove, trying to get near its warmth. Josh was in agony. He hadn't been this cold since he fell through the ice on the fishing pond when he was 14. He hadn't wanted to say anything, because he was a man and all. But he knew he had to do something soon or he might lose some fingers and toes, if not worse. He was distracted by movement on his left and, without thinking, he glanced that way. It was Miss Livvy, getting a blanket off the wall. He forgot the cold for just a few seconds. She was beautiful! Her skin was so pale it looked ghostly white. Her breasts looked like those of a twelve or thirteen year old girl, rounded, but not bulging. The only color on them were the pink of her nipples. Between her pale legs was a thatch of pure black hair that matched that on her head. It wasn't thick and bushy, but seemed to be made up of short straight hairs that lay down against her skin as if they had been combed. She was slim and boyish in appearance, but at the same time all woman. He felt his penis twitch and forced his mind back to the cold. He couldn't afford to lose any blood from his extremities. Livvy was still cold, particularly on the bottom of her feet, but it wasn't as bad as when she'd been wearing wet clothes. Maybe they were right. She thought about Josh, and how he had looked. "All right, now Josh, you must do the same thing. Off with those wet things and get yourself a blanket. Josh didn't wait another minute. He started stripping down. First his shirt came off, displaying his heavily muscled chest and shoulders. Then he dropped the homespun pants. He wasn't wearing underwear. Livvy had completely forgotten to ensure his modesty as she had demanded hers be honored. As a result, no one in the room turned away from Josh as he disrobed. Rusty didn't think a thing as Josh's adult cock sprang into view. Not so with Livvy and Jean. Both stared openly at what made him male. Jean had seen plenty of horse and bull cocks, which is immediately what she thought of when his flopped free of his pants. For Livvy it was something more personal. The only penis she had ever seen was her husband's. She'd assumed that they were all about the same size, since men were generally about the same size as each other in other ways. Her husband's cock had fit comfortably in her hand, with a little sticking out when she grasped it. It had reached inside her and felt wonderful when he made love to her with it. It had brought her much pleasure, and she had adored it. Now, seeing Josh's, she wondered if she had married a boy after all. She felt sudden heat in her loins as she stared at a penis that, if she had BOTH her hands around would still stick out at least three inches. And that was if she could actually GET her hands around it. It was the size of some saplings she had seen! Why, that thing could KILL a girl if he wasn't careful with it. She felt her jaw shaking and realized her mouth was hanging open and she was still shivering. The heat in her loins was welcome in one way, but she felt ashamed that it was there. He was one of her students, after all. She turned away, but not without some difficulty, and did not look at him again until she was sure he had a blanket wrapped around him. Then she almost laughed. In order to cover his organ he had to have the blanket under his nipples. She felt better when she saw that Jean's mouth was also hanging open. "Jean, don't stare. It isn't proper," she said automatically. Jean snapped her mouth closed, grinned ruefully and said, "I'm sorry Miss Livvy. I thought somebody had let one of the horses in here." Rusty snickered. Josh sent a glare Jean's way, but ended up smiling. It was still cold, and night was coming on. Livvy and Josh couldn't do much except keep their blankets wrapped around them, so the others tried to hang up wet clothing in an attempt to dry it. Jean was hunting around, obviously looking for something. Livvy felt a chill go through her that wasn't from the temperature. She knew what Jean was looking for. Sure enough, Jean announced, "Miss Livvy, I can't find your under things. Where did you put them?" Livvy's face assumed a more normal coloring, which in any other weather would have been flaming red. "I... ah... I didn't... have any." Both boys turned and looked at her, and then, as if they had planned it, they looked at each other. 'Great,' she thought. 'Now they think I'm some sort of hussy.' Jean was oblivious of the discomfort she was causing as she dragged a chair over by the stove and hung Livvy's sodden dress on it. "I hate 'em my own self. My ma tries to make me wear 'em. I hate being all bound up. It's uncomfortable. I go without too." She didn't notice that both boys turned and looked at her too. Livvy tried to change the subject. "What's it look like out the window Rusty?" He went to the window and rubbed his sleeve on it. Then again. He peered through the glass. "I can't see a thing. I thought it was too dark, but now I think it's covered with snow. Must have drifted up over the glass." Livvy's heart sank. "What are we going to do?" she moaned. "They can't come for us in the dark. We'll have to stay here all night! How are we going to sleep? I'm still freezing. There's no bed. I can't sleep THIS way." She indicated her scantily clad body. Rusty spoke. "We'll just have to sleep Indian style." He said it like that explained everything. "What's that?" Livvy said, dreading the answer. Jean filled her in "Well, the Indians sleep two to a blanket. They say the two bodies warm each other and the blanket keeps in that heat. Course in this particular situation, we'll have to use clothing for a bed, to keep us off that cold floor, and then use the horse blankets and coats as blankets to cover us. That and the stove ought to get us through the night." Rusty looked nervous. "I ain't sleeping with Josh," he said. "I ain't sleeping with no man. If any of the other kids heard about that I'd be done for." Josh spoke for the first time. "That wouldn't work anyway Rusty."The two bodies need to be about the same size, so they'll warm each other all the way from head to foot. You're too short to sleep with me. Jean opened her mouth. "But that means I'm too short to sleep with you too, Josh." Livvy looked blankly at all three of them. Then she set her mouth. "It won't be all that bad, Jean. Just imagine that the two of you are riding in a buckboard, lying next to each other." Jean looked horrified. "I can't imagine riding anywhere with my brother naked!" Livvy's head jerked up. "What do you mean... naked?" She looked at Josh. He looked back steadily. "It doesn't work if you have clothes on. It has to be skin-to-skin contact. The clothes block the heat. Besides, we need the clothes to lie on top of... to protect us from the floor." Livvy felt panic. She'd have to lie... NAKED... with Josh... and with that... thing... between his legs? She couldn't. She'd just die of shame. And to allow Rusty and Jean - brother and sister - to lie NAKED together. The town would have her head on a stick. "No!" she said. "No! We can't. It wouldn't be proper. No, we must find some other way." She had to admit later they gave it the best they had. First, she tried lying on one blanket with another over her. But her legs and shoulders were exposed, and soon she was freezing. It worked OK if she lay on TWO blankets, with TWO blankets over her, but that left nothing for Josh, except for his buffalo coat to wear, which didn't cover his legs and feet. Her coat could be wrapped around his feet in a way that worked, but that left Rusty and Jean in only their clothes. They could stay warm in those if they kept moving, but if they stopped, they got cold and began to lose feeling in their feet and hands. The only thing that looked like it might work was if Rusty and Jean lay on top of their own clothing, with a blanket and Livvy's coat covering their legs and feet. That left two blankets for Livvy and Josh to lie on, with one blanket and his coat covering them. Even then, it was cold. And it felt like it was getting colder all the time. Then there was the problem of having to feed the fire all night. Someone had to be close enough to reach out from under the covers and feed the fire. If someone had to actually get up, it would cause problems for both of them, because all the carefully hoarded heat would escape from under their coverings. Finally, because Livvy could see no other way to survive, they decided to put all the wood in a pile right in front of the stove door. Josh and Livvy would lie on one side of the pile, while Rusty and Jean would lie on the other side. That way, someone from either pair could reach both the wood and the stove door without getting out from under the covers. It also meant that neither couple could see the other. Finally, everything was ready. Livvy couldn't put it off any longer. She was already nervous and embarrassed, but there was nothing for it. She announced it was time. Wordlessly, she handed her blanket to Josh, uncovering her nakedness. The only light was from the open door of the stove, but she felt horribly exposed. She also felt the bite of the cold without the blanket. She glanced at Rusty and Jean while Josh made up their bed. Both youngsters were stripping their clothes off and laying them on the floor, trying to get them as thick as possible. They didn't seem to be shy in the presence of each other. Jean's breasts were bigger than her own, but then most women's breasts were bigger than hers. She had been embarrassed about them until she married, and her husband told her he loved them. But Jean's were larger. Her hips were bigger too. Jean looked like she was built for having babies. Livvy felt a pain in her heart at the thought. Livvy had wanted to have lots of babies. Now she never would. She made her eyes go to Rusty and gasped. HIS penis was bigger than her husband's had been too! It wasn't thick and gnarled looking, like Josh's, but it was long. She thought it might be semi-hard at the moment. It looked like a spear, being very pointed as it swayed between his legs. She saw Jean stealing looks at it too. Josh touched her shoulder, and she jumped. "It's ready," he said simply. Now was the moment of truth. "I'm sorry it has to be this way," she said to her student. "Miss Livvy, it's the frontier. You do what you have to do to survive. No one will ever have to know, and even if they did find out, they'd understand. Just think about getting warm." He lay down on his side and held the covering up for her. Sighing, she knelt and slipped in beside the naked youth. Immediately, she felt two things. First was warmth. It was coming from his chest. It was sinking into her breasts, where they touched him. Second was his hands, sliding all over her back and buttocks. "What..?" she started to say, but then the answer was obvious. The friction of his hands caused her skin to warm. Warmth. Glorious warmth! For the first time in hours, she felt warmth. She sagged into his arms and pressed her body against his. It suddenly occurred to her that she should be doing the same thing for him. Her hands started moving slowly, feeling the knotted muscles on his back. He felt smooth, but hard at the same time. Her hand slipped to his buttocks, and even they felt muscled. She moved her hands faster, generating more friction. As they moved against each other, her nipples rubbed against his skin, and the friction caused them to stiffen. She'd been proud of her nipples when she was married. Though her breasts were small, her nipples were huge. Her husband had joked that she could feed a calf on those nipples. When she was excited, they grew until they were an inch or more long, and nearly half an inch across. They were extremely sensitive. They hadn't gotten hard in nearly two years. They got hard now. Livvy made a sound "MMmmmmmmm," in her throat. It was the sound of a woman who was freezing, and now felt warmth. It was also the sound of a woman whose extremely sensitive nipples were being stimulated by the skin of a handsome man. She was concentrating on the warmth, and, at first, her tired mind thought the feeling in her nipples was merely that - warmth. Now her upper torso was relatively warm, and, instinctively, her leg raised up and slid up on top of Josh's thigh, creating friction that way. It also, for all intents and purposes, spread her legs. Josh also felt the warmth when Livvy slipped into his arms. Well, to be more nearly correct, he felt her ice-cold nipples stealing the warmth from his chest. Those cold points caused him to move, to get them off of one place and move them to another. He began to warm her back, like he had been told to do in these situations, and was surprised to feel her reciprocate. She smelled good. Clean, womanly, with a scent that was faintly like flowers. Her hand went onto his buttocks, and he clenched them. Her hands on his skin felt nice. Now that her nipples had warmed up a little bit, THEY felt nice scraping across his chest too. He felt the monster between his legs stir. He'd never really thought much about his penis. It was just there. He used it to piss through, and when he got excited, he rubbed and pulled it until it spewed what seemed like a quart or two of thick white stuff. Other than that, he didn't pay it much attention. His mother had seen him naked last year and had leaned over to his pa, saying he'd been blessed the same way pa was. His pa had laughed and said it was the girls who would be blessed. He knew what they were talking about, but he hadn't met any girls he thought might be interested in what he was blessed with. He hoped it didn't get all the way hard. He didn't think Miss Livvy would appreciate that at all. Then her leg lifted and came down on his thigh. She snuggled up to him and pushed her abdomen against his. And she went "Mmmmmmm." There was something about the sound of that that made his dick get much much harder. It began to move from between his thighs. On the other side of the wood pile, Rusty and Jean had gone through much the same kind of ordeal. Rusty had watched as his sister disrobed. He hadn't seen her naked in probably four or five years, and this was very interesting. He'd caught just a quick glimpse of Miss Livvy when she handed Josh her blanket. He'd stopped breathing, thinking she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Then his sister had stood naked in front of him, and he'd stopped breathing again. She had large round breasts and a little bit of baby fat still on her stomach. Her hips were wide and, where her legs came together, there was hair the same reddish-blond as what was on her head. It occurred to him that his sister was also quite beautiful, and that lying next to her was not going to be an unhappy thing at all. His penis agreed, swelling to half its size when hard. He hoped she wouldn't notice. Jean DID notice. She had been awed by the huge club that swung from Josh's groin. If THAT was what cocks were like, she wasn't at all interested in having one shoved in her. But when her brother dropped his drawers, she saw something much less intimidating. Rusty's was long and thin. That wouldn't be so bad. 'Be so Bad?!' she thought to herself. 'He's my brother for pity's sake.' But when she looked at it, she felt a funny warm feeling in the pit of her stomach. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad being up next to him. She climbed in with him and pressed her body against his. She wondered if his stiffening penis would touch her. Part of her hoped it would. Josh's cock was getting harder and harder as Livvy rubbed her body against his. "Ohhh," she said softly, "You're soooo warm!" She had a purr to her voice that made his balls get tight.Was this what all the older boys had laughed and joked about, bragging that when they'd been to town they'd "done it" with the girls in the saloon? Livvy was actually warm. She couldn't believe it. Her euphoria masked the fact that it felt good to have a man in her arms again, and to be in a man's arms again. She ignored that and thought only about the warmth. Until she felt something touch the portal to her sex. At first, she thought he must have moved his hand where it did not belong. But both of his hands were still sliding delightfully all over her back and buttocks. Then, like a ton of bricks, the realization hit her. Her mind rebelled. Her body betrayed her. She felt a flush of warmth in her pussy as it was touched by a man's cock for the first time in years. She knew that flush of warmth was fluid, seeping from her innards, making her wet. Now her nipples ached, needing to be squeezed, sucked, pinched. Unconsciously, she ground her chest into his. Her pelvis thrust, of its own accord, against his. Her mind screamed, "You hussy!" "Josh," she whispered, as softly as she could. Josh was thinking of other things. As his penis got hard, it pressed into something warm and wet. He wasn't stupid, and he knew what it had to be. It felt... good. But he knew his penis shouldn't be where it was. He tried to think of a way to get it somewhere else, but couldn't. Not without making it obvious. Maybe she didn't feel it. Her head moved. It strained up, and her mouth was by his ear. "Josh," she whispered again. "Emmm," he murmured back. "Josh... your... your... organ. It's touching me." She knew. "Yes, ma'am," he tried to whisper. "It's an accident. I can't help it. I'm not doing it on purpose." "Could you please... move it? It shouldn't be touching me... there." Her body was screaming 'you idiot. It's EXACTLY where it belongs... leave it alone!' "Yes, ma'am. I'll try." Josh knew that it wouldn't go back between his legs. It was fully hard now, and that meant he could almost pound nails with it. The only place it could go now was up against his stomach. He reached down between them and got a good grip on it. She rolled back from him just a little and raised her leg higher to give him room. All this did was open her up even more. Josh pulled on his dick, trying to swing it up against his stomach. In the process, he dragged the plumb-shaped head of his boner right between her slick pussy lips and across her engorged clit. Livvy gasped. A lightning bolt struck her without warning. It hit right in her pussy and flashed to her nipples. "Awwwwwww," she groaned. On the other side of the wood pile, Rusty and Jean were mashed together. His penis had gone stone hard as soon as those wonderful soft breasts had pressed into his chest. It had immediately lodged right between her legs and was now trapped between her closed thighs. Jean felt it. There was no doubt about what it was either, but it was warm and it made her feel... good. The warm ball in the pit of her stomach was expanding now, and the feel of her breasts against his chest, along with his hands sliding all over her back, was making her feel... naughty. That was all she could call it. But it felt good, and she wasn't freezing anymore. She decided that his cock could just stay right where it was. They heard voices coming from Josh and Miss Livvy. It was a small room, and the wind wasn't so loud outside that they couldn't hear what was said. Rusty put his mouth right by his sister's ear and said "I wonder what's going on over there?" His breath in her ear sent a shiver down Jean's spine. For some reason, she felt like pushing her abdomen against her brother's. She moved her mouth to his ear, "I expect they're doing exactly the same thing we are." She snuggled against her brother and decided it WOULD feel good to push her loins against his. She did. It did. "Rusty?" she breathed in his ear. "Yeah?" he breathed back. "Have you ever kissed a girl?" Rusty wasn't stupid. Seconds later, he and his sister were swapping spit and tongue like long-lost lovers. When Livvy gasped and moaned, Josh thought he had hurt her. He froze. This left his cock head in contact with Livvy's clit. Her involuntary jerk from the first contact rocked her back and then forth, which rubbed her clit all over his cock head. It slipped off her clit, sending another bolt through her, and settled into the opening of her pussy. Josh was so surprised to feel the wet heat of her pussy mouth kissing his cock head that he let go of his cock. Instinct is an amazing thing. It causes us to do things without thinking, without even knowing why we do them. In this case, it caused Josh to thrust his hips forward. This drove his iron-hard prick an inch into Livvy's starving pussy. That, in turn, stimulated Livvy's body to thrust back, which drove her pussy another inch onto his rod. Suddenly, Livvy had a cock in her. Livvy had always been a very physical lovemaker. When her husband had made love to her, she wiggled and shoved and thrust, and once had even rolled on top of him and ridden him like a horse. Apparently, making love is like riding a bicycle. Your body never forgets what to do. Before Livvy could control her body, she found herself wriggling and shoving itself onto that lovely stiff cock, getting it just as deeply into her as she could. Livvy's mind was completely fragmented. She knew that somehow Josh's penis had gotten into her pussy. She couldn't remember exactly how that happened. He wasn't moving, though, so she had a suspicion - a horrible suspicion - that SHE had something to do with the fact that she was stuffed full of hard student cock. She was stretched farther than she'd ever been with her husband, but it was a nice kind of stretch. Her hand left his back and snaked between them. She had to take it out! This was wrong! Her hand closed on it, and she almost swooned. She could feel at least as much in her as her husband had ever put there, but her hand easily wrapped around what was still outside her. If he pushed it all the way in, it would go clear into her womb! She grasped it firmly and tried to roll backwards, to get off of it. As she did, her buttocks rolled off the blanket she was lying on and onto the floor of the schoolroom. Her buttocks actually stung from the cold, and, without thinking, she rolled right back toward him. She literally fucked herself, and this time his dick went clear to the back of her channel. "Ahhh," she moaned. Damn, but that felt good. Josh couldn't believe what he was feeling. His dick was clear inside a woman for the first time. It was hot inside her. She felt like velvet, and was slippery and hot, and he wanted to shove it even further into her. But he knew he'd hurt her if he did. When she rolled back and forth and her pussy slid along his cock, he thought he'd just die from the pleasure of it. He wanted to roll on top of her and drive his cock all the way to her throat. He knew he couldn't do that. Instead, he held her tightly to him and rolled onto his back, pulling her on top. He adjusted the blanket and coat over them so they were still covered. Now she was lying fully on top of him, with her knees on either side of him. Livvy felt herself being picked up and moved like she weighed nothing. She suddenly found herself on top of Josh, impaled on his prick, lying like a rag doll. Her pussy felt so good. Now that she was on top of him, though, she could pull off of him. She started to do just that, sliding her pussy up... and up... and up as his thick cock slid out of her. As she got to the point where all that was left in her was the knob, however, she knew she was going to slide right back down on it. It just felt too good. It just had been too long. She was going to get fucked this night, and she was suddenly looking forward to it. She slid back down on him, pushing hard, trying to get just as much of his meat in her as she possibly could. Josh lay stiff, almost paralyzed under her as she began to slide forward and backward along his shaft. This was the most amazing thing he'd ever felt - could ever feel. If he froze to death tonight, it was worth it for this feeling. He felt the familiar tingle in his balls that meant he was going to spew. He wished it hadn't happened so quickly. Rusty and Jean heard all the groaning and moaning going on across the wood pile. They had been doing some of their own, but it sounded different over there. Rusty couldn't take it any longer. As a pretense, he opened the door of the stove, threw two logs in, and took a peek before he closed the door. There, in front of his startled eyes, was Miss Livvy, ON TOP of Josh, moving back and forth. There was a liquid squishing sound coming from under the blanket. He ducked back down to his sister. "They're DOING it," he whispered in Jean's ear. He'd ended up almost on top of her after his peeking mission. She was about half under him. His sister didn't say anything, but her hands came to his hips, and she tugged, pulling him more and more on top of her. Now her legs were spread, and he was between them. Jean leaned up and kissed her brother long and hard as his own hard penis dangled, just half an inch from her open and waiting sex. Rusty didn't know for sure what to do. Jean's hand came between them, grasped his woody, and brought it to her opening. She pulled, trying to get it into her. Rusty helped. He shoved. He was a little overzealous, and he shoved hard. It was a good thing Jean was soaked from their play and kisses, because in one long lunge Rusty destroyed her hymen and fed her all of the six inches she could take. Jean, for her part, yipped at the stinging pain of her deflowering, but decided that that long slip prick was going to feel really good in just a few more seconds.Without waiting for any further instructions, Rusty began sawing in and out of his sister's pussy as fast as he possibly could. Livvy heard Jean cry out and automatically looked over at the siblings. Part of her was horrified as she saw Rusty obviously on top of his sister, and obviously giving her the fucking of her young life. The other part of her felt herself start to tumble into an orgasm from the multiple stimulation of having Josh's immense rod in her belly and the erotic thrill of seeing Jean's hands come up to her brother's buttocks and pull him into her as she began to whisper "Yes, yes, yes. Oh yes." Rusty was beyond control. The feel of his sister's hot velvet pussy clasping his magic wand made him wild. Now her pussy was clamping down on him and rippling like what he did with his hands to milk the cows. And his own milk was about to be delivered. Breathing raggedly, he pounded into her buttery depths one last time, battered between her cervical lips, sliding clear into her womb, and relaxed as his prick gushed his seed into her most private place. Jean felt battered and bruised on one hand, but so wonderfully full and satisfied on the other. She'd somehow known that her brother's penis would feel fantastic inside her and didn't care a whit that he was her brother. She loved him. And now, after the amazing feeling she had had when she had her very first orgasm, she felt him go even deeper into her body. Then the rush of heat as his sperm was deposited inside her womb. She sighed "Oh Rusty, Darling, I love you so much." Livvy heard noises from across the wood pile. Since she was on top of Josh, all she had to do was turn her head. She watched as Rusty lunged forward and froze. He grunted and jerked, and she knew his long thin prick was pumping his sperm into his sister's vagina. She shook her head once, gave up and let herself cum. Josh heard Jean's statement of love for her brother, and heard Rusty's grunt. He knew what was going on over there. The idea of Rusty shooting inside his own sister caused Josh's balls to give up their own precious load of sperm. As he felt the first ribbon of silvery thick cum roar through his penis, he saw one of Livvy's long thick nipples hanging in front of his face. He leaned up and sucked it in. Livvy was having a nice quiet orgasm, stuffed full of Josh's cock when she felt her nipple being chewed on. Suddenly the top of her head felt like it was going to fall off. Her pussy muscles spasmed and began rippling up and down Josh's prick, like fingers playing a piano. Her eyes rolled up in her head and she flopped forward, crushing her breast into Josh's face. Rusty was frozen. Only his prick moved. It swelled as each rope of thick sperm rushed through it. Then it jumped as that rope exited his cock head and flooded his sister's womb. He shot so much into her that it filled her and bathed his own cock head in his own warm liquid. He collapsed on top of his sister before slowly rolling sideways. Jean went with him, dragging the covers over them. Josh felt Livvy fall on him just as the first blast of his cum shot into her pussy. "Fucking teacher's pussy," he said to himself, and his cock went off again. Long greasy ropes of sperm leapt out of his cock to splash all over Livvy's vaginal walls, clogging her cervix and leaking into her womb. It seemed to Josh that he'd never ever shot this much. Her weight felt good on him. Eventually it was dark and quiet. Two men slept, their cocks still buried in their women. Two women slept, comforted in the arms of their men. It got colder that night. Livvy's canteen froze solid and burst. But the small circle of warmth around the stove made the difference. Livvy woke. Her cheek, which was exposed to the air, was cold. The other, which had been lying against Josh's chest, was warm. The rest of her was relatively warm too. She heard a noise and lifted her head. It was dark, though there was a faint diffused light from the window. She could barely see. Was it daylight? She heard noises again. They were coming from where she knew Rusty and Jean were sleeping. Suddenly she remembered seeing them... Just as suddenly she realized that she was still full of... Josh. He was still hard! The memory of how she'd felt the night before came rushing back. It had been glorious. It had been so wonderful she couldn't stand it. She looked down at his still sleeping face. He was so handsome. Another noise, this time Jean's voice. She was chanting softly "Oh Rusty... Oh Rusty... Oh Rusty." Livvy raised her head higher and felt cold air rush in around her breasts. In the dim light she saw Rusty, just as she had seen him the night before. He was on top of his sister, and his buttocks were making the blanket over him rise and fall. Her face grew hot as she realized they were fucking again. She started to say something. To make them stop. Then she remembered what SHE had done. Who was SHE to tell them they were wrong. She had had sex with her own student. His no doubt potent seed was still trapped in her body. She wondered if Rusty had spent himself inside his sister, or had been wise enough to withdraw. Jean was chanting something different now. "Oh yes, oh yes, oh Rusty, I can feel it. It's so warm." Rusty was grunting softly and had stopped moving. Well, she knew now. Rusty was indeed fertilizing his own sister. What would she do? What on earth would she do? Josh woke up. He didn't move because he was warm. Everywhere except his chest. He opened his eyes and saw Miss Livvy above him, raised up and staring across at the two youngsters. He marveled at how lucky he had been to be caught in these circumstances. He'd had his first woman, and she wasn't a whore in the saloon. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen as far as he was concerned. He felt his cock twitch and realized he was still inside her. She looked down at him. Livvy felt Josh's penis move inside her. It was just a tiny movement, but it made her look at him. His eyes were open. She looked away. She couldn't face him. She was a slut and couldn't face him. Tears filled her eyes and one ran down her cheek, landing on his chest. She had to pull herself off of him immediately. Just as she put her hands on the floor to do that, one of his hands came to her chin. He swiveled her face to his. "I'm sorry," he said softly. What in the world was HE sorry for? she thought. "I didn't mean to dishonor you," he said. She was staring at him now, like he was from another planet. He kept talking. "I would never have hurt you on purpose. I think I love you." Now the tears came fast and furious and she dropped her face onto his chest, sobbing. His hands came up and stroked her back. He was so sweet. His hands felt so wonderful on her skin. He kept murmuring, "I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry." She relaxed as she cried out her frustration and shame. Finally, she raised her head and said, "Josh, you have nothing to be sorry for. You didn't do anything wrong." "I shouldn't have had my way with you," he said. She giggled and then hiccupped once. "You goose. You didn't have your way with me. I practically raped you. I'm such a slut." His hands stopped suddenly, came to her head and gripped her hair. He jerked her head back painfully. There was an ugly look on his face. "Don't you EVER call yourself a slut again. Not EVER." Her face grimaced with pain and he relented, releasing her hair. "I couldn't love a slut," he said. "And I think I love you." Livvy didn't know how to feel. "Oh Josh, you're just a boy. You wouldn't know what love is." Now his hands went to her buttocks and he grabbed them. He pulled her forward, partially off his cock and then slammed her back down. Her eyes bulged as the base of his cock scraped her clit. "Does that feel like something a boy would have? Did you view me as a boy last night?" She realized how serious he was, and it made her serious too. "No, Josh, you weren't a boy last night. And you're not a boy now." She paused. "Speaking of which... are you always... like this?" She clenched her pussy muscles around his cock. She couldn't believe she'd been so brazen, but it seemed pretty silly to pretend it wasn't where it was. "Well, it's always like that in the mornings. I imagine it's probably morning." Livvy felt a stab of fear. The townsfolk could be right outside. They could open the door any second. "We've got to get up!" she said. She pulled herself off his marvelous penis, part of her wishing she didn't have to. She bounded out from under the covers and the cold air hit her like a fist. It had to be below zero! She opened the stove and saw that the fire was almost out. She quickly threw in several logs and was shivering so badly by the time she was done that she had to make two tries to pick up her dress. It was still damp. She knew this because it was frozen solid. She looked around wildly. She saw Rusty's surprised face gaping at her naked body. She shivered violently. Suddenly she felt Josh's hand on her wrist, pulling her. "Get back here," he demanded. "You'll freeze." She moaned, "But we can't. We have to get dressed. They'll be here soon. They can't find us... this way." Josh stood up, his muscled body rippling in the firelight. Livvy felt weak in the knees as she saw his boner sticking straight out from his body, bobbing gently with his movements. Jean's voice came from under their covers. "Wow! Would you look at the horse cock on that boy?" Livvy thought she'd just go mad and scream. But she watched as Josh went to the door, pulled the latch and leaned into it with his shoulder. It didn't budge. Not an inch. Then he went to the window and opened it a few inches on rusty hinges.He picked up a chair and, like it was built of matchsticks, slammed it against the table, knocking it into pieces. He held the leg in his hand. He began digging in the snow outside the window, pulling the snow into the room. Soon he had a cave as long as his arm cleared. Then, abruptly, he closed the window and went to stand by the stove. "The snow is drifted up clear over the door and window. There must be seven or eight feet of it covering those two sides." Livvy felt panic stealing her ability to think. "What are we going to do?" she yelled. Josh grabbed her and pulled her into his arms. "Miss Livvy, they'll be coming for us soon. We'll have plenty of notice when they get here, and we can straighten things up then. Right now we need to stay warm. You need to come back to... under the covers. It won't do anybody any good if you're frozen to death when they get here." "But we may be completely covered with snow!" she moaned. "How will they even be able to find us?" Josh was steadily pulling Livvy back to their makeshift bed. "Miss Livvy, the stove is still burning. That means the stove pipe is clear of the snow. They'll see the smoke, ma'am. They'll bang on the pipe when they get here. We'll be just fine, Miss Livvy, just come back to bed." Livvy began laughing hysterically. She'd heard what he said, and realized he was right. They probably WOULD be just fine, and there would be plenty of time to make themselves presentable as the townsfolk dug them out. But what she keyed on were his words of address. She was "ma'am" and "Miss Livvy" to the boy who had fucked her brains out only hours before. The absurdity of it overwhelmed her. She collapsed back on top of Josh as he pulled the covers back over and around them. Almost immediately she felt warmer and knew she was behaving foolishly. "Josh, you dear dear boy - no man!" she said as she snuggled up to his chest. "First of all, thank you for thinking so clearly. Secondly, you must call me Livvy from now on. And if you address me as 'ma'am' again I think I'll have to punish you for making me feel old." Josh's hands slid down her back to her buttocks. "Begging your pardon, Ma'am, but you don't feel very old to me." Her look of amazement turned to a peal of laughter, which turned to a kiss. A very long and passionate kiss. With not a single thought of remorse, Livvy reached between them and found the treasure she sought. She scooted up with his help, and, with a sigh of contentment, lodged herself once again on his pole. She squeezed it with her muscles as hard as she could. "Josh," she whispered. "I believe I need warming again." He warmed her... inside and out. By their reckoning they were there for two nights and a day. Their wood was running very low and there was some worry about that, though there was still the furniture that could be burned. Jean and Rusty had stopped fucking each other long enough to get dressed and re-arrange Livvy's and Josh's clothing so it was against the stove, where it steamed and finally dried out. They used the burst canteen to melt snow in to drink. All of them were very hungry by now. Neither Livvy nor Josh decided to get dressed. As soon as their duties were fulfilled, Rusty and Jean wasted no time getting naked again and back in bed. Neither Livvy nor Josh said a word to them about their behavior. For the rest of their time trapped, there was a general abandonment of cultural rules. Rusty and Jean couldn't seem to get enough of each other, and stopped trying to hide what they were doing. Jean was loud when she was satisfied, and neither Livvy nor Josh minded a bit. For that matter, Livvy and Josh stayed busy in much the same way. Josh again apologized to Livvy for failing to control himself, and offered to remove himself from her before, as he put it, it was too late. Livvy silenced him with a kiss and said simply "This is the frontier. You do what you have to so survive. When you... finish," - she blushed a little bit - "it warms me inside, and I find I... like that warmth." Hearing that, Josh rolled them over until he was on top of her. Livvy thought she would die from the pleasure of it as her young bull rutted in her. She thought she'd taste him any minute as his over-long shaft touched her places she didn't even know she had. He never could sheath his organ in her completely. It was just too long. But it did the job and she loved the feeling of being plumbed so deeply. She learned she was loud during her own orgasm too. The only time either couple gave any indication that they knew what was going on across the room was one time after Livvy had wailed out her pleasure as she felt Josh's seed flushing into her. In the silence after that, she heard Jean call out "Miss Livvy? Are you OK? He didn't kill you with that monster did he?" Livvy had to laugh. At last they heard the stove pipe rattle, and a voice calling down it to them "Anybody in there? You all OK in there?" There was a general shouting match as all four of them yelled, and the voice told them to "sit tight" and they'd be out in "no time". It still took several hours. When the door finally opened, all four were dressed and as presentable as they could make themselves. There were only three logs left on the floor by the stove. The first person in was Sheriff Black, followed closely by Rusty and Jean's worried-looking mother and father. Josh's father was there too, along with six or seven others. There was hot coffee and food that had been hot, but was no longer. No one cared. Livvy watched tensely as her students were reunited with worried parents. Sheriff Black stood, glancing around. She saw his gaze linger where the blankets were still lying crumpled on the floor. He looked at the corner they had had to use as an outhouse, and at Livvy's burst canteen. He looked at the three logs on the floor. Finally, he looked at Livvy. "Ma'am, I suspect you all had a rough time of it in here. I believe you were lucky to have made it through. We had a hell of a time getting out here." Livvy smiled tentatively. "I feel we were very lucky, Sheriff. Very lucky indeed." It was May before it became painfully clear to the townspeople that the schoolmarm's belly was swelling - and that it wasn't just good eating that caused it. A self-appointed delegation of the women in town made it their business to inform her that they had no need of an unmarried full-time teacher any more, and that she needed to find work elsewhere. One woman took particular care to note that the house she was living in was actually owned by the town, and that there were plans for someone else to become the tenant. Livvy had known it would happen. She didn't fight it. The only thing that hurt was when she tried to say goodbye to her students. When she got to Josh's ranch, his father came out with a shotgun and told her women like her weren't welcome on his land. When Josh tried to break in, his father growled that he had better things to do with his time than talk with sluts like her. She turned heel and left. As she boarded the stagecoach, Sheriff Black approached her. He held out his hand and said "Ma'am, I reckon that all of us have bad luck occasionally. Not all the folks hereabouts are as pigheaded as some. They've took up a collection, seeing as how you've never been paid. We hope it'll help you get started wherever you go." He handed her a small cloth bag that clinked when it went into her hand. "Thank you, Sheriff," Livvy said. A woman nearby sniffed, and Black addressed her "Move along, Lindsey, there ain't nothing to see here." He turned back to Livvy. "You done OK last winter, Miss Livvy. Some of us know how dicey it must have got. You done just fine, considerin' what you had to work with. I'm sorry it had to turn out like this." Then he turned and walked away. The only other passenger on the stage was a snake oil salesman who couldn't wait to get back to civilization. Six hours later, the stagecoach came roaring back into town. The driver was shooting his pistol in the air and yelling at the top of his lungs. Indians had attacked the stage. The only thing they seemed interested in was the young pregnant white woman on board. They had taken her. The last thing the driver had seen was her, screaming and fighting with them as they hauled her off. He'd come back to tell the town so a rescue could be mounted. The snake oil salesman confirmed the story. Neither of them could understand why no one seemed to want to go save the poor woman. Sheriff Black led a posse of six men to the scene. He noted that the hoof prints of the Indian horses were both shod and unshod. He noticed that the shod horses appeared to be the same horses that had been stolen from the Wilson and Powers ranches several days before. One horse, the one missing from the Wilson place, appeared to have been ridden by a mighty heavy rider, for an Indian. It seemed strange that the Indians had brought along an extra horse for the missing woman too. They usually just slung captives across the pony in front of the brave who made the snatch. They followed the tracks for a mile, and he noticed that all the horses slowed to a walk. After another mile, the shod horses went one way, and the unshod ones went another. Sheriff Black didn't think any of this was important enough to mention to anyone back in town. He just reported that they had "Got clean away." The only other thing that happened in town that summer that caused a lot of gossip was that the two Powers children up and ran away from home. The strange thing was that they left on foot, and the searchers who went looking for them couldn't find anybody within walking distance of the ranch.They stayed out for three days and nights, searching for signs of the fleeing youths, but found no sign, either of passage or camps. Two months later, Josh Wilson was enrolled in Law School in Philadelphia. With him was an obviously pregnant young woman he introduced as his wife, Livvy. She was seeking employment as a tutor and was found to be eminently qualified. The bursar assisted Mr. Wilson in finding modest lodgings - the Wilsons had some money - that would accommodate not only them, but Mrs. Wilson's young cousin, Jean, and her husband Rusty. Jean was great with child herself, not far along, and was going to be the nanny for both children. Rusty proved to be an instant hit with the city folk, who were constantly amazed at his Wild West skills and deportment. He was hired by a local newspaper to write columns on the West and what was happening on the frontier. Generally, the people of Philadelphia were quite happy to welcome them as citizens.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/46/schoolmarm.txt
59,079	Rivers ([email protected])	YUMI - YUMI	Yumi was the wife of a friend. Once, I joked that the sound of her name embodied the both of us - you know: you, me - but she looked back at me as if she didn't understand. Of course she couldn't, for I had fallen deeply and secretly in love with her. The things that transpired and which I am about to relate are all true, and although I know that some of what I did is indefensible, I hope that people who know me might someday see this and think less harshly of me. Yumi's husband Ken was transferred to our office from the Tokyo section. Close in age and with certain life experiences in common, we soon became friends. It was only natural that I would meet his wife eventually. Yumi was tall for a Japanese and slender. She had the kind of beauty that grew on me the more I saw of her. It was in the way she moved; even the most simple gesture could make my heart ache. Before I got to know her, she seldom betrayed much emotion, but her elusive smile was enchanting and as radiant as the sun emerging from behind a cloud. When I met Ken and Yumi, I had recently broken up with my longtime girlfriend. Since I was often in a low mood, my new friends went out of their way to cheer me up. I spent many an evening with them at their house, and that is when my admiration for her blossomed into - what some might call an obsession. Seeing her, the clouds of my disaffection would suddenly lift, and in those moments I would live in hope, vain though it may have been. Yumi cooked elaborate meals while Ken sat with his feet propped up on the coffee table and served me drinks. As the guest, my offers of assistance were politely but firmly declined. While Ken and I drank and laughed together, I secretly kept one eye on Yumi moving silently about the kitchen. I will never forget the gentle curve of her fingers as she held a knife or the way she bit her lip when she was concentrating on something. Over the next several months, Yumi's natural reserve diminished as she became more comfortable in my presence. Seeing her personality emerge so slowly was like patiently watching a flower open its blossom, revealing a secret wonder within. Her shy demeanor concealed a forceful personality, a penetrating wit that could run circles around her husband and me when she unleashed it. I felt pleased to have penetrated one of her layers, however superficial; the thought that the process could go on to unfathomable depths made me surrender myself more completely to the secret passion I had developed for this beautiful, untouchable woman. One night I stayed with them quite late. I'm not sure what the occasion was, but we were all in a jolly mood; much sake had been consumed. Excusing myself, I made my way down the hall towards the bathroom. Due to my drunkenness, I must have missed the door, for I found myself stepping into the master bedroom, illuminated only by what light spilled in from the hallway. So this is the bed where Ken and Yumi, I thought... I squeezed my eyes shut; the image was at once tantalizing and painful. I could hear the musical sound of her laugh drifting down the hall. Knowing I should leave, I moved to the dresser instead - where I noticed one drawer slightly ajar. Hardly aware what I was doing, I reached in and pulled out the first thing my fingers came into contact with, a pair of Yumi's panties. Almost blind with nervous excitement, I slipped them into my pocket and hurried from the room. In the bathroom, I examined them, turning them around between my trembling fingers. How delicate and feminine her body must look when she had them on. It was some minutes before I could compose myself enough to return to my hosts, and for the rest of the evening the offending garment burned a guilty hole in my pocket. The next day, sober, realizing what I had done, I felt too ashamed to even look at them. For days the panties lay at the back of my dresser drawer, gone but not forgotten. Their presence ate away at me until the day Yumi called with an invitation to dinner, and I pulled them out at last. I had only the intention of slipping them back where they came from, but with Yumi's voice fresh in my ear and the soft fabric between my fingers, I was overcome. I sat on my bed for quite a while, letting my fingers play over them, imagining the parts of her body they covered. That evening, knowing I had something intimate of hers in my pocket, I regarded Yumi even more carefully in my secret way, and the private thrill she provided me was greater than ever before. When the chance came, I returned to the bedroom. My motive was only to replace what I had taken and be done with the forbidden pleasure; but pushing the stolen panties to the back of the drawer, my hand brushed against a fabric even softer, even more alluring in its texture. My heart sank. I knew I was succumbing to a compulsion. Powerless to stop myself, I drew out another pair of panties and stuffed them into my pocket in place of the ones I had just returned. Once again upon arriving home, my initial reaction was shame; I hid them in the back of my drawer. But more quickly than before, I found myself drawing them out, holding them in my hands while I thought of her. The next time I went to see them, I knew I would once again exchange for another pair. When the moment arrived, I drew out three and chose the prettiest: silky yellow things with a white lace fringe. It was some time after my thievery had become routine that I descended to the next level of transgression. It began with a torrid, erotic dream. I awoke to find myself drenched in sweat, with a throbbing erection. Trying to hold the fleeting dream images in my mind, I began to relieve myself of my urgent, painful desire. It was then that I brushed against something soft and silky, cool to the touch. Yumi's panties had been under my pillow; somehow during the night they had become dislodged. The cool silk felt soothing. I wrapped the sheer fabric around myself, imagining it to be Yumi's lips enveloping me. Draped over my thighs, I let the slippery fabric be the satiny cascade of her hair. I fantasized about our bodies combined in all manner of sexual couplings until I emptied myself into the bunched up panties with great, throbbing liquid bursts. The next morning I discovered the panties encrusted with come and I was mortified. I quickly washed them in warm soapy water to remove any stains I might have left. After that, I recoiled, stuffing them in the back of my drawer again, not willing to acknowledge that I had descended more deeply into the realm of my obsession. My resistance didn't last long. By the time Ken and Yumi entertained me again, I was dying to try it once more. The next pair in my possession I laid out neatly on the edge of the bed. Stroking myself while I imagined Yumi placidly waiting for my offering, I sent a thick jet of come over the crotch strip, imagining it to be the soft enfolded lips of her sex I was wetting with my sperm. This time I had the warm soapy water ready in advance. When I next saw Yumi, I found it difficult to look at her; but when I did, oh what profound and secret delight! I burned to know when she would slip on a pair of panties I had soaked with my come; the thrill of that would be almost unimaginable! By then, I knew Yumi owned roughly fifteen pairs of panties, and I arrived at the crazy notion that I must come into each and every one of them to be certain that when I saw her, she would be wearing one of 'mine'. I vowed to undertake the systematic project of stealing each of them in turn, even though I knew it might take me quite some time to reach my goal. For some reason, the idea of such a drawn-out plan thrilled me in a way I find impossible to explain. Right about then, I noticed a subtle change in Ken and Yumi. There was a stiffness to her, a formality that I had not noticed before. Ken began drinking more heavily and behaving more rudely in front of his wife. One day when we were alone, he confided that they were having problems. Yumi was unhappy in America; she wanted more autonomy, but, by his own admission, Ken was too overprotective to grant it. He characterized her demands as nagging. For a moment, I was secretly afraid I would not be able to see Yumi as often, but Ken reassured me.They considered my presence a welcome distraction. The frequency of my invitations increased. During that time, I made excellent headway on my project, but I also rediscovered the cause for my obsession. The thought of Yumi unhappy pained me greatly, and I came to realize how much I cared about her. I know this must sound ludicrous in the midst of such a sick, twisted revelation. It was just that my love for her, as impossible as it was, took a torturous, twisted route to its fulfillment, just as a river that is blocked sometimes finds a subterranean route to the sea. Knowing her husband didn't appreciate her as I did only made my situation more tragic. Ken's birthday was a few weeks away when Yumi called me to help her set up a surprise party. I needed to keep him away from the house for an hour or two while she got everything ready. Not wanting to let her off the phone too quickly, I asked if there was anything else I could do to help, but she assured me in a breezy, indifferent tone of voice that she would handle everything. When the day arrived, I persuaded Ken to let me buy him a drink after work. He thought Yumi was taking him out to dinner later that evening, confiding in me that things were still not great between them and that he wasn't really looking forward to it. He had three glasses of scotch in the hour we were together. The surprise worked, and, as far as I could see, Yumi's party was a success. Everyone seemed to be having a good time except the birthday boy himself. Ken continued to drink heavily as the evening wore on; he seemed to be in a morose, morbid humor, and the guests all tiptoed around him carefully. With such a crowd, it was easy for me to break away to make my switch. But slipping my hand into the familiar drawer, I was shocked to find it empty, save for one tightly bound object. I broke out in a cold sweat. Drawing out the little bundle, I discovered it to be a pair of black silk panties tied up with a red ribbon. I whirled around as if to find someone confronting me, but there was no one. The sounds of the party were like a dull roar in my ears as I slipped into the bathroom and undid the little parcel. The panties were of an exquisite silk fabric, rimmed all around with a delicate black lace pattern. Most notably, on the front, there was emblazoned two Japanese characters in a brush-stroke script. I had no idea what it meant. As I held the panties before me, puzzling over the meaning of it all, a small scrap of paper fluttered to the ground. On it were three words: "I Know," and two other characters that I recognized to mean 'Yumi'. My first instinct was to flee, jump out the window, run away; I certainly couldn't return to the party and face her. The room seemed to be spinning; I was taking great gasps of breath. Lowering myself to the edge of the tub, I tried to think, but no thoughts would come, only the clamoring of a thousand guilty voices, each one blaming the others for my misfortune. I am not sure how long I stayed. Gradually, a voice of reason rose above the rest and began to prevail. Why would she wrap them up in a little bow? Could it be... she isn't angry? I was just beginning to entertain the possibility when a knock sounded at the door, and an unfamiliar voice asked if anybody was using the bathroom. I had no choice but to return to the party. Yumi was busy catering to the guests. Did her eyes flicker past me as I stepped out of the hallway? I tried to stay as far from her as I could, watching her, warily looking for some sign. Graceful and demure as ever, she gave none. I pondered leaving quickly, going home and waiting to see if they ever called me again. She knows, she knows! It kept going through my head. But how? What had given me away? Was the gift-wrapped pair of panties an angry gesture, full of sarcasm? Was it a signal? And if so, of what? How could I possibly find out? I was standing, mulling over my situation when a commotion arose from across the room. I caught a fleeting glimpse of Ken rising, staggering, people moving, some backing away, others stepping forward to help. Then there was a crash. The coffee table was overturned, and Ken lay sprawled on the carpet. I joined the crowd that encircled the fallen birthday boy. Someone remarked that he was drunk, trashed to be certain. Hands lifted him to the sofa and laid him out. The party dissipated quickly after that. Yumi was the recipient of many helpful offers, but she declined them all, seeing the guests off with impeccable poise and grace even after her husband had made such an ass of himself. She asked a few small favors of me: pick up these cups, re-cork this wine - things of that nature - and I got the distinct impression she wanted me to stay. After the last guest had gone, I helped Yumi to restore order to her house while Ken snored away on the sofa, a look of placid oblivion on his face. She worked with infuriating, meticulous care while my heart raced with a mixture of curiosity and dread. I had no idea what to expect from her, and she gave no sign as to her feelings. Finally, when all was in order, she returned from the linen closet and draped a blanket over Ken. Motioning for me to come close, I found myself standing beside her, looking down at her sleeping husband. I had been avoiding her eye until that moment; now her gaze was fixed on me, serene and penetrating. My obsessive fantasy world had run smack up against flesh and blood. I quailed. She began by telling me how she had discovered something was amiss, speaking softly so as not to wake her husband. She owned fifteen pairs of panties; one for each day of the two weeks between laundry days, and an extra pair. When one was gone, it was easy to notice. But even before that, she had noticed my interest in her and was curious what I would do about it, if anything. She carefully avoided revealing her own feelings, however. She told me what Ken had already revealed - that their marriage was not working out. In fact, she was planning to leave for Japan soon and possibly not return. Then she wanted to know what I had done with her undergarments when I had them. Her question was simple, direct, leaving no room for obfuscation on my part. Still, I tried to avoid being specific. Speaking in a whisper, looking nervously down at the sleeping Ken, I began telling her a small part of the story. I think I said I had simply 'admired' the stolen panties, or something equally ridiculous. My words fell flat as I talked myself into a corner from which there was no escape. Yumi's eyes seemed to be driving me onward, towards my own destruction. I babbled on and on without saying anything until, exhausted, I ground to a halt, and we stood for a moment in silence. Then a magical thing happened. Seeing no other way out, I began to tell the truth, admitting for the first time to another living person the things I had been doing, what I had been feeling for all these months. The words flowed more easily now, like a cool clear stream running over a smooth bed, with no impediments to block its course. I felt exhilarated, lighter than air, realizing what a burden my obsession had been. Yumi listened intently, quietly, until I had told her everything. When finished, I was exhausted. I remember drawing several deep breaths, waiting for her reaction, like a skater looking up at the judges for the final standings. Then Yumi completely took me by surprise. She quietly asked me to undo my pants. I didn't know what to think; I was so startled. Was she going to take my underwear in exchange? I know that sounds ridiculous, but that is what went through my mind in that instant. I protested, gesturing to her sleeping husband lying below us, but Yumi was firm and insistent. I felt like a naked child before her, completely helpless. Drained by my confession, I lacked the strength to go against what she wanted. When I stood before her with my trousers around my ankles, she had me pull my shorts down and then lift up my shirttails. I was highly aroused, but the fear that Ken might open his eyes at any instant, and maybe also from too much drink, I had only the faintest stirrings of an erection. Normally, even imagining myself in this position would have provoked in me the most heightened state of arousal. Now I felt embarrassed to have only such a modest offering to show her. Yumi took back the pair of black silk panties. She knelt before me. Looking up at me, she said: "When Ken and I were married, I vowed never to touch another man. I have no intention of breaking that promise now." And with that, she took the panties and wrapped them around my semi-erect penis. Opening her mouth, she engulfed my entire length and began sucking me through the panties, so that her flesh never actually touched mine. The warm, moist pressure of her lips clamped around me - enhanced the familiar sensation of silk sliding along my skin. I swelled until she could no longer contain all of me, and she began rocking her head back and forth, sending me into ecstasy. I looked down, and our eyes met briefly before she closed hers again, and her brow got that little furrow in the middle, like when she was thinking very hard about something. She slowed down, and through the thin layer of silk, I could feel her tongue exploring the ridges and contours of my now achingly erect penis. Then she clamped her lips around me more tightly than before, and she began moving back and forth over me with real purpose. When I began to squirm about, stifling little cries of pleasure, Yumi withdrew her mouth and rose to stand beside me. She whispered in my ear that she wanted to see me do what I did with her panties when I was alone. Her voice sounded husky and out of breath.She put a hand lightly on my shoulder and motioned for me to kneel. She reached down and slid the panties off me and laid them out on the coffee table, just the way I had described laying them out on the edge of my bed. As I knelt down beside the low table, Ken stirred in his sleep momentarily. In panic, I began to rise, but Yumi's hand was on my shoulder, pressing me down. I remained motionless for a moment or two before she gave me a light tap on the back, indicating I should go ahead. I was looking directly at the sleeping Ken as I began to tentatively stroke myself over the panties Yumi had spread out for me. Even in my nervous state, I found myself very near the point of orgasm already. I looked up at Yumi; she was standing over me, looking down with her arms folded. I could see her chest rise and fall as she took several deep breaths. In another few moments, there was no holding back. My hand was moving like a blur over the shaft of my penis. I could feel Yumi's eyes burning on me as I rose slightly from one knee so that I could aim the thick shots of my come downward, directly at the characters emblazoned on the crotch of the panties laid out before me. She put a hand out to steady my trembling body as the orgasm that shook me seemed to go on forever. When I was done, Yumi cleaned me off with the bunched-up panties, which she quickly whisked from the coffee table. While I put on my pants, she went to the kitchen for a damp paper towel with which she cleaned off the coffee table. My aim hadn't been perfect. The things that happened afterwards were dreary: the breakup of Ken and Yumi's marriage; the way they became so consumed with their bad feelings for each other that they didn't have time for me anymore; Yumi's return to Japan. We never discussed what happened. After that day, it was as if we began to drift swiftly apart. Bringing up what had happened seemed like it wasn't worth the effort, considering there was no future in it. She became so preoccupied with her marriage falling apart, and I had become so depressed knowing I was losing her, that the few times I saw her again were all shaded with melancholy. A month after Yumi returned to Japan, I received a small package. Much to my surprise, I discovered it contained the very same panties that had played such a role that night, or at least an identical pair. Along with them was the rather cryptic note that said when I figured out the meaning of the characters printed on them, I could come and talk to her about it. It took me a while to find a Japanese dictionary, then a while longer to figure out how to find one character among the thousands that all seemed to look alike. I was too afraid to ask someone to simply translate it for me, in case it was obscene or embarrassing in some way. What I finally discovered was they stood for "love," the physical act of love... The flight to Narita is twelve hours from where I live. I'll need to wrap this up now since they want all electronic devices turned off; you know how it is. I hope the man next to me couldn't see too much of what I was writing, but it doesn't matter much anyway, I suppose. I'm more concerned about whether this trip is a fool's errand or not: to fly halfway around the world on such nebulous hopes...the diaphanous fabric of a dream. Fin	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/09/yumi.txt
59,170	Latamure Tamalman	My Meter's Running	You drive a cab long enough in Baltimore, you see everything. I'm not kidding. Baltimore is just full of characters, and it seems like I've had 'em all in my hack at one time or another in the years I've been doing this to keep a roof over my head and pay my ex-wife's alimony bills. Like I said, I've seen all kinds of fares, but the topper had to be this rich society bitch last Christmas. I pick her up at BWI, load her bags into the trunk, and take off. She's wearing a dead fox around her shoulders and gave some fancy uptown address. She's about 40 years old, but still sexy in a stuck-up kind of way. Stinking rich, I'm not kidding you. But here's the thing: When I pull in front of her castle, she goes into her purse to pay the tab, and whaddya know? She can't find her wallet! "I'm terribly sorry," she says in this hoity-toity voice. "I don't seem to be able to pay you." "That's too fuckin' bad, lady," I say. "I guess you ain't goin' home yet then." And I pull away from the curb and head for the nearest expressway. That got her panties all bunched up. "What can I pay you with?" she says all nervous and agitated. She's in my environment now. "Well, for starters, you can suck my dick," I say. I figure that she'll get insulted and report me, but what the heck, right? I admit it, I've got a crude mouth at times - I guess that's why my wife left me... for another woman. But get this: The bitch actually says, "Well, okay." With that, I pull off the expressway, but leave the motor running because it's a fucking cold day, and I want the heater on. Then I climb into the back seat with her, unzip my fly, and haul out my pride and joy. "Here, lady, here's a nice cold treat for ya, see if you can warm it up for me." Before she could react, I shove my schlong between those society lips quicker than you can say Jack Frost. I'm no dummy, I hold her head so she can't get away. I thought the old bat was gonna' choke on it at first - judging from the gurgling noises comin' from the back of her throat - but before long, she got into the spirit of giving head as I pushed my stiff, spit-slick pole in and out of her warm, delicate mouth. Once or twice, she accidentally bit me, and I had to cuff her, but all in all, she sucked like the pros I usually frequent, and when I spermed like a madman into her mouth, she swallowed the whole mess without blinking an eye. "What's the matter? Old man not giving it to ya?" I say. She's pretty hot by this time, so I reach down and yank open her skirt and pull her lacy black panties down. She doesn't object! She's gasping like a pig in heat, going, "Fuck me, fuck me. My husband never touches me anymore. Oh, stick it in me. Ram my pussy," and some other trashy bullshit I forget. "Easy, you old cow," I snarl, and thrust three fingers into her heaving snatch. It's surprisingly tight for such an old hole, and she was wetter than piss as I performed a digital exploratory. After about two minutes of this threeplay, I figure she's ready for my beefy cock, so I push her down on the seat, yank her legs wide open, lean down for a quick whiff of her smelly slit - ah, heaven - then aim my pecker at her hungry box and ram it home. I split her cunt apart with my piledriver, filling it up with my stiff eight-incher. She grabs onto me, digging her sharp fingernails into my hairy ass as I belt her cunt with my boy-stick, reaming it in and out as hard and fast as I can, ripping her dainty little, rich-bitch cunt with my angry beast. To her credit, she gave me as good as she got, thrusting her lily-white hips up to meet each savage stroke I laid into her. For an over-the-hill broad, her cunt felt pretty good as it clamped down on my busy bone, almost as good as the hookers I fuck for their fares too. Right in the middle of it, she starts begging me to talk dirty to her, like my big fat dick stuffing her cunt isn't enough for her upper-class snatch. "Ahh, shaddup!" I growl, and to show I'm not kidding, I let her have a playful slap in the kisser. Instead of annoying her, it turns her on more, and we screw like that in the back of my cab for about 45 minutes, traffic whizzing by outside the whole time. I kept up the bone pressure as I man-handled her big, creamy knockers and stuck my tongue down her throat. I pinched her big nipples till they were hard as pebbles, and she had tears in her eyes. From the way her body was shaking, I figure she must have cum half-a-dozen times since I jumped on top of her. I feel like cuming too; so when my time came, I didn't hold back. At the last minute, I pulled my dick out of her soppy snatch and, careful not to hit the seat, let her have a hot, milky one right in the face. She starts lapping it up like a starving puppy, and smearing it into her cheeks, all the while babbling about what a great cocksman - I swear that's the word she used - I am, and how she never wants to stop fucking me. Same old story. Even the whores give it to me for free. I finally took her home and let her pay me with a check. It didn't bounce either. Too bad, I wanted an excuse to look that cunt up again...	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/09/cabbie.txt
59,259	C.D.E.	TRIALS & TRIBULATIONS	You know, it gets me how many trials and tribulations a husband has to endure to keep even a good marriage together. If it's not my wife's old boyfriends accidentally interfering with our ironclad marriage, it's other men, even friends of mine, who inadvertently cause problems for our marriage as well. Let me try to explain what I mean. I'll start with her old boyfriends first. Her old flame, Jim, has accidentally managed to knock her up twice in our fifteen-year marriage. My wife, Jenny, felt sorry for him because of the problems he was having with his significant other both times. She claimed, each time, she hated to see him walking around moping and with a hard-on. To lift his spirits, she lifted her dress and pulled her panties down for him. Well, both times he got rid of his hard dick, and we got two additions to our family. Her explanation was the same each time she accidentally got pregnant from Jim. "I can't help it if Jim buys such cheap rubbers and they fail" was the reason she gave me. "You can't hold me responsible for him not buying quality condoms. After all, I did more than enough, as his friend and helping him out, by giving him some." In both instances, my wife let me know that abortion was out of the question. I was very upset each time, but she and I reconciled. I ended up being the daddy of the living, breathing results of her accidental dual sins. The same identical thing happened with two of her other old boyfriends. Again, we reconciled, and I forgave her for making the same mistakes again. When you're in love as deep as we are, it's easy to forgive a loving spouse for accidentally making mistakes. You see, one of my wife's main character flaws is that she's just naturally too good-hearted. She seems to go overboard in being helpful to people, especially men. My wife is extremely beautiful. I've told her several times she doesn't have to put out just because she makes other men's cocks hard when she's around them. But alas, no matter how hard she tries to keep from being the good Samaritan, it gets to her if she goes too long without helping some poor guy out who gets an aching boner from being around her or ogling at her charming figure. She often feels sorry for some of my best friends too, especially Paul, who comes by to see me often. Generally, it's when I'm not home. We have two children that he's fathered also. I've asked him to call first to see if I'm home before he comes by, but he always seems to forget to do so. It seems when I'm there at home, there is less of a chance that she weakens and offers him or others help for their aching hard-ons. Well anyway, as a result of Paul's forgetfulness to put on a condom, she's pregnant again from him. This is his third contribution to our relatively large family. Jenny doesn't like the pill or diaphragms. She thinks it's the man's responsibility to use birth control protection. "After all, if I'm putting out, it's the least they can do to put on a good quality rubber" is what she always says. She's also rather religious and doesn't believe in abortion either, hence our 9 kids, with number 10 on the way. I must be the only one she has sex with that remembers to use protection faithfully, since I've yet to father a single one of our 9 kids, including number 10 in the oven. As I mentioned previously, she's confirmed to me that she believes it's Paul's baby. Paul, and some of the other friends of mine that come by to see me, as I mentioned before, often come by our house while I'm not there. Several times, I've arrived just as they were coming. Not coming over, but coming in my wife's delectable cunt. Early in our marriage, I would raise a stink. That is for her feeling sorry for them because they got horny from being around her, and especially if the man, in a fit of passion, forgot to put on a condom. After the first few times I rebuked and scolded her. She pouted angrily and claimed that she got pregnant because I wasted time scolding her, when it would've been more productive trying to help her get the other man's virile jism out of her. She's the one that proposed to me that sucking her semen-filled pussy would be an effective means of extraction and pregnancy prevention. "Darling, I know you have some difficulty when I feel sorry for them and give in to the fellows when they have erections, but I trust you to do a better job and a more thorough effort of drawing out their sperm than them. Plus, they are often tired from fucking me and probably don't like messing with their hot spent sticky semen. The same stuff that caused them to fuck their buddy's wife in the first place. So darling, it's just natural you have a vested interest in preventing me from becoming pregnant. So I think you're the better candidate to suck it out of me." After I thought about the logic of what she said, I had to reluctantly agree. She did make sense. So now if I walk in and she's got a sloppy cunt from a condom failure, or forgetfulness on the part of some man she's felt sorry for, I say nothing. I generally sigh with chagrin at the task before me, but immediately get on my knees and bury my face in her sloppy wet, slimy, bushy, sperm-soaked snatch. She thinks I've prevented at least three pregnancies so far. Timing is everything, so I've told her to call or page me (Yes! I got a pager just for that purpose.) so I can rush to meet her to suck out some man's virile jism that somehow managed to get shot off in her unprotected pussy. It really gets me that the guys who use my wife's pussy don't have the decency to put on, or use quality condoms. I do love my wife very much, in spite of her affliction for being detrimentally helpful and good-natured. She's still a very good wife and an excellent mother. I can tell it's her calling to be a good mother. Our pastor has even told us that it was my wife's talent to breed and take care of children. The problem is that it costs so much to raise kids these days. My mother-in-law proposed an idea for a more aggressive strategy toward pregnancy prevention for my "always want to be helpful" wife. I was shocked by her proposal. Besides being extreme, I couldn't fathom her thinking of such a thing. "I haven't discussed it with Jenny. I wanted you to think about and see if you were man enough to embrace this innovative concept." My mom-in-law said. I was reluctant to even think about her idea, even after her continued discussion with me about it and why I should not be ashamed of performing it. After much coercion and nagging me to be decisive and do as she suggested, I decided to try her strategy idea out with several of my closer friends. That is, those that can't seem to come by when I'm at home. I talked to my wife about it and she thought the approach was wonderful and demonstrated what a wonderful husband I am. You see, my mother-in-law's proposal was for me to offer to suck the cocks of men who are affected by my wife's charms and have aching cocks. The idea being to circumvent them from getting their sperm in my wife. All of them have taken me up on my offer several times, including the pastor of our church. He has routinely asked me to stay after services each Sunday, for the last three years, so that he can relieve his heated erections with my mouth. He says he gets aroused from watching my wife in church services and that my mouthing him makes him resist temptation. He's coated my tonsils with a lot of his heated viscous cum over the years. Another thing, five of our children belong to a combination of the Pastor of our church and the Church Board of Deacons. You see, they are a result of my wife going with the pastor and deacons to semi-annual retreats. After the third pregnancy that she attributed to the retreats, she convinced me that I should accompany them to be a birth control preventive. The Pastor and deacons agreed, but they ruled that I would not be allowed to witness my wife being with them in their retreat services. They use my wife as an example in their recurring retreat series on sexual temptations by church leaders.The purpose is to test the will and resolve of our church leaders to resist carnal temptations of the flesh. As I said earlier, my wife is very religious and is an eager and willing participant in church activities. She and two other wives seem to be always sought after by our church leaders for these retreats. My boss is a deacon in our church, so therefore I had to take that into consideration each time I think about opposing her participation. Many times my boss reminds me personally that he is looking forward to these retreats and how unhappy he would be if my wife didn't participate. I should mention that one of our sons strongly resembles my boss. Jenny even named him after my boss because of his spitting image resemblance. It's possible that my boss could be the real father since he's one of the deacons that had experienced sexual temptation failure with my wife, 9 months prior to our son's birth. My wife has brought our son to my office several times. The boss always beams when she brings in our son, whose Christian name is the same as his. He insisted he become our son's Godfather. Hence, that's another reason I find it difficult to say no to my wife's active participation in the retreat activities. The other wives who participate have husbands whose bosses are also on the Deacon Board. I know each of them and we all have similar personalities. That is, we are easy-going and don't like conflict or confrontations. At the retreat location, the temptation testing involves my wife and the pastor, as well as each deacon. She and one of them have to spend two hours alone in a motel room where there is a TV playing XXX videos. An ample supply of condoms is also placed in the room along with a selection of alcoholic beverages and snacks. She has never said so, but I believe my wife's role is to dress provocatively, that is by wearing scanty lingerie. The actual temptation testing is secret and what I'm writing here is what I've been able to discern over the years in bits and pieces from my wife and the other husbands whose wives participate in the semi-annual event. Even though the pastor and each of the deacons have failed the test each time they were alone with my wife - twice a year for the last seven years - they all agreed that they are becoming more resistant to such temptations. In preparation for these retreats, my Jenny and the other participating wives I mentioned, are told to get off their birth control pills at least 2 months prior to the retreat date. The purpose, I was told, is to increase the seriousness and realistic nature of this temptation testing of our church leaders. The idea that they may impregnate another man's wife and have that permanent flesh and blood symbol of their failure walking around is supposed to cause them to evaluate the further importance of the impact of their failure. However, my opinion is that our church leaders really don't seem to let that bother them, as myself and the other two husbands I mentioned before, have several children by the leaders in our families. Also, the minister comes by to collect and hold all our wives' birth control pills to ensure they abide by this two-month period. He also gets sworn promises from our wives that they won't permit any of us husbands to have intercourse unless we use condoms. I guess the only good news in all this is that he also brings over a large box of condoms for us husbands, courtesy of our church, whenever he comes by to collect our wives' birth control pills. When I was allowed to attend the retreat services at the remote location, I was required to remain in my room while the actual testing was going on in another part of the complex. I was on call in the event of a temptation failure. Each time I've attended the retreat, not only were there temptation failures, but in addition there were numerous split condoms and condoms accidentally slipping off. My boss and the pastor seemed to keep forgetting to put theirs on. Several of the deacons, as well as the pastor, often came by our room, after getting my wife's help in the retreat services, and had me remove the last vestiges of their temptation, for that night anyway, by milking the last bit of cum from their rather large cocks. Since that first time, the pastor has been using me routinely to mouth his rigid arousals. Another thing, it seems like all the men I've sucked to date are all much larger than I. I was also amazed at the size of the residual loads I sucked or milked from the pastor and the deacons. I'm glad I was at the retreats, otherwise all that extra thick hot viscous cum would've ended up in my Jenny. Alas, all plans don't work out too well. She still got pregnant two more times after I started going with her. But she told me that if I hadn't been there we would've had more than those two additions to the family. That was some solace to me. She's currently two months pregnant and the pastor and the deacons still want her at the retreat tomorrow. I'm to drive her up to the remote rural resort. We were already told that there would be no condoms used since she was already inseminated. I didn't see the need for me to attend since she was already with child, that is due to Paul, as I mentioned earlier. However, she and the minister and deacons desired me to accompany her so as to keep in practice at sucking her semen-filled pussy as well as their cocks. The pastor spoke to me about this. "My son, in order for a skill not to become rusty, one must diligently practice it, even when there is no purposeful task at hand to apply it to." I suspect the group will find plenty of practice for me. Additionally, Jenny, besides wanting me to lick her drippy slimy cunt, said she wanted to also see me milking the church leaders' fuck-slime coated cocks, as she'd never seen me suck a dick before. So, anyway, there it is, my story of how my marriage is withstanding the various trials and tribulations caused by the well-intended actions of a loving wife, who is always willing to help others in such an unselfish manner.	M+/F, MM, MF, Impreg, Humor	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/cde/cde_33.txt
59,561	Puera Amare	Sexilepsy	You have heard of Narcolepsy? That's where you fall asleep unexpectedly. And Epilepsy? That's where a person loses control of their body unexpectedly. Well, I just got back from the doctor, and he says I have Sexilepsy. No, this does not mean I am addicted to sex, though I do enjoy it, my normal urges are quite normal. It sounds like some kind of a bad pickup line. "Hey babe, you look like you got Sexilepsy, come back to my office and we can play doctor to cure it." The only problem was that it was true. I think what really convinced the doctor was when he was examining me and I had an episode, and he was suddenly made naked from my attack. You see, since I was about 16, I would get sudden urges to have sex. These urges were much more than just getting horny; no, when I got these urges, nothing else mattered: no morals, no digressions, and no way to stop me until I was fulfilled. When I was young and at home, it was usually enough just to masturbate myself off. There was the time, though, that my brother walked into my bedroom just as an attack started, but that is a different story. Now, nothing will satisfy me except a full pussy. Fortunately, a dildo will do. I usually carry one around with me in my purse, and I have been pretty good about keeping the urges abated long enough to get to a restroom to get myself off. So what made me go to the doctor for something like this? Well, I am not always able to control it. Let me tell you of the event that drove me to the doctor. One evening, I was coming home late from work on the park and ride commuter bus. This is one of those buses that you ride from a parking lot on the edge of town into downtown, so there are no stops on the way usually. It was the last run of the evening, and being such, it was fairly empty. There were about 5 people on the bus, including me. I was near the back, and the only other person back there was some teenager, maybe about eighteen or nineteen years old. It was about halfway through the trip when suddenly it happened. I needed sex. I had ridden this bus many times before and never had an attack, though I feared it might happen someday, and now it was, and it was a big attack. I tried to suppress it, but that I knew was futile. I could feel my whole body tingling with sexual desires. My pussy instantly responded with its wet reply. My nipples went erect, and each movement I made sent sensations through them as they rubbed the fabric of my bra. "Wait till the car, wait till the car." My inner voice cried out to me, but in an ever-softer voice that was already being drowned out by my need for sex. Then it was too much. I lost control of my body, and it now controlled me. It wanted sex, and it was going to get it. I was now just a bystander. My hand dived into the purse and had the dildo out and at the ready. My other hand had hiked up my business skirt and was fiddling around with sliding the panties aside. When the panties did not cooperate, the hand grabbed them and ripped them bodily from me. A moment later, and the dildo was pressed against my wet womanhood, and my hand pressed it in. It felt absolutely wonderful. It felt like a tall glass of ice-cold water tastes when you are just out of the desert. A loud moan escaped my lips. The last bit of control I had on my body was used up to look around and see if anyone heard me. The boy in back with me did. He was staring at me. Fortunately, he could not see through the seat in front of me to see I had a large dildo stuffed up my cunt and was working it in and out in a fury. "Just try to keep quiet," I told my deaf body. I moaned again, louder this time. Oh, no! He not only heard it, he was getting up and coming back to my row. "Stop!" Shouting to myself in barely a mental whisper. I knew, though, there would be no stopping. Now he was standing over me. He just kind of stared at me dumbly, watching my handwork vigorously beneath my skirt. I am not sure what my body was thinking of next, but my free hand then pulled the skirt back up so he could see better this dildo that kept being shoved into my pussy and pulled back out again. "Are you...?" He started to ask a question of me, but he was interrupted. My body wanted more, it wanted him, and I could not stop it. My hands reached up and grabbed him and pulled him into the row and had his pants and shorts to his knees in a matter of seconds. He had a surprised look on his face, but did not fight back. He was already pretty stiff and fairly well hung. But I did not get to look upon his member long. I planted him in the seat next to me and quickly got on his lap. "Wait, I. uh." He obviously had some objection that my body would not have listened to anyway, but as my pussy slid down his cock, it sucked those objections out of him. My body was telling me how wonderful this was, it was so much better than that dildo. Indeed, it did feel wonderful. It was warm and it was real. I suddenly realized my body would be hard-pressed to take a dildo to salve these attacks anymore. My body bounced up and down on his while my pussy flexed and milked on his dick. I was very close to cumming, and I could feel he was too. Right on the verge of orgasm, my body suddenly slowed down and drew it out as long as possible. I felt waves of spasms up and down my vaginal walls, alternately squeezing and releasing him. I felt him in nearly perfect synchronicity, flexing and squirting deep into my body. It was absolute nirvana. Slower still, my body finally came to rest on his lap. Both of us were exhausted. I looked up and saw the other passengers were all looking back at us. The bus was stopped, and the doors were open, but everyone had opted for watching us instead of departing. My body suddenly left me in control. Very real was the cock still semi-hard that was stuffed in my pussy. Very real was the sex I had just had with a stranger. And very real were all the people gawking at my body's escapades. I had to leave. In a quick swipe, I grabbed the handles of my purse and bolted out the door. It was an odd feeling having the teenaged dick pulled out of me so quickly, but I did not look back. I don't know what the kid did after that, or what he thought, or what his name was. I just knew I had to get out of there. My body had gone too far. What if the boy had been younger? What if there had been children present? What if he had been married? What if he had a disease? It was these questions that drove me to the doctor. I had to try and get this under control, if not for myself then for my unborn child. You see, I now carry that teenager's child in my womb. Oh, no! It is happening again! "Someone fuck me!"	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/24/sexilepsy.txt
59,583	Ricardo Cabeza	Larry of Arabia	You've seen him on television. It was during the Desert war and just after things blew up. He was the guy covered in oil from head to toe walking down the shoulder of the highway. I was the guy behind him with the gun. We were both pretty tired by the time the crew with the camera got to us, and by then Ali was pretty much under control. We had an understanding, and he knew I wasn't going to kill him... at least I think he believed what I was trying to tell him. He was wearing a pair of my shorts too... well, that was all he had on by then. We didn't stop for the camera crew. They stopped for us. I wanted to get Ali down to the medics as quickly as possible. I had just fished him out of the Gulf, mostly against his will, I think, and tried to scrape off as much of the gunk as I could with the back of my knife, but as you will recall, if you saw us on television, he was still dripping pretty badly in the footage they shot of us walking past the spot where they were interviewing Juarez. If we didn't look too happy in the pictures you saw, it wasn't because we didn't like each other or anything like that. It was just that Juarez had a jeep, and he was making us walk. It was because Ali and I were covered with oil, of course, but I knew from experience, and Ali had already picked up from the one dealing he'd had with Juarez, that Juarez was an asshole. I was a reservist, and Juarez was regulation G.I. Joe. He didn't have too much good to say about us part-time commandos, as he called us. You've already got my read on him. We did manage to break up his interview with that bunch from Spanish television, though. They cut him off in mid-sentence when they saw us coming. Let's face it, Lieutenant, we were more colorful... well, Ali was anyway. You didn't get a good look at him on T.V. All you saw was a lot of Kuwaiti oil trudging down the road in a pair of black jockey shorts that used to be white. I'd seen him without the oil. He was a good-looking kid... looked sort of Spanish-like... you know, olive skin with a deep desert tan, dark brown eyes that could've been black if the sun wasn't shining, wavy black hair with an unco-operative part that had to be manipulated against its will. I'd seen a lot of guys like Ali hanging out on street corners in New York... so had Juarez. Juarez had probably been one of them. But Ali sure as hell hadn't. When Juarez first spotted Ali, he had been standing on the docks where the tankers used to pull in to take on oil, only now the oil was pouring into the Gulf a mile a minute, and Ali was threatening to flick his bic. There was enough gas around us to turn that place into hell in a hurry, and Juarez was trying to talk him out of his plans for self-immolation when we arrived and saw what was going on. Juarez was talking in English and Spanish, the only two languages he had at his disposal. Ali was screaming back at him in Arabic. If it hadn't been such a tense situation, it might have been comical, but we didn't have any time to think about that. Ali hadn't seen us arrive. We'd walked in... naturally... and we'd come down the docks behind him when we saw what was going on. We knew it was a standoff right away, and Rawlings lifts his rifle up like he's gonna off the kid right there and then. I grabbed his gun and tried to tell him about the gas by pointing to his nose and wrinkling mine up like a rabbit, but I found out later that Rawlings doesn't have very good olfactory senses and doesn't know to this day what shit smells like... even though he's been in it most of his life. Anyhow, I was in charge of a bunch of guys who were right out of boot camp, and I couldn't really trust them to have a feel for this situation anymore than Rawlings did. I knew it was up to me because I had no way of communicating with them without alerting the kid standing on the other side of the oil pipe. I held up my hand and then motioned to my squad to hunker down where they were. Then I slowly crept up on the kid, trying to keep the pipe between us so he wouldn't be able to see me coming. Juarez kept him talking... well, screaming would be a better word, I guess, and by the time I get to the other side of the pipe, the kid is pretty agitated. He's already convinced himself to die and take the rest of us with him. That's when he spots me, and two things happen at the same time. I see his thumb work the lighter, and he steps back to avoid me and is swept off the dock by the oil he's trying to ignite. I reached for him, and I think he reached for me. I felt his fingers slip through mine, and I knew that I had to save him. It was just that much contact that turned my enemy back into a fellow human being. I felt the spray of oil hit me as I hurled myself at the edge of the wharf to see where he'd landed. There was no sign of him, but I did find a pike, and I noticed some steel rungs that formed a ladder down to the Gulf. I grabbed the pike and headed for the ladder, half black with the stuff that had got us into the war in the first place. The oil was thick on the Gulf water, and above me, it continued to shoot out over my head. It sprayed at me and made seeing difficult. I could imagine how the kid was feeling about then... and the thought sickened me. It was hard to hold onto the ladder rungs, which were also covered with oil spray, but I somehow managed, and when I saw the kid, or what appeared to be a lump on the surface of the water that might have contained the kid, I was afraid that I was too late. Already Juarez was standing above the ladder and ordering me to climb back up. I pretended not to hear him. It wasn't hard. There was an awful racket. I flailed the pike out and managed to hook the lump. The lump protested, but I had a piece of it and managed to drag it to the ladder. I had no idea how I was going to drag the kid up the ladder, but at least I had him out of the oil. My squad had joined Juarez and his men, and they put their heads together and found a life preserver. They lowered it to me, and by this time, I had wiped off enough of the oil to find the kid's head and shoulders. I slipped him into the ring, and he slid right back out. I ordered more of the rope to be lowered and set to work fashioning a sling around the parts of the kid's body that I could find sticking out of the goop. Then they pulled the rope up, and I climbed the ladder beneath him to make sure that the sling held him. That's when the rest of me got covered with the oil. I looked at myself, then I looked at the kid. Well, I was thinking of him as a kid, but I supposed he was in his early twenties. As it turned out, I was bang on with that guess... but he still looked like a kid. He was lying where they'd dropped him and gagging on the oil, but unable to wipe any of it away. I knelt beside him and pulled off my jacket and shirt. The shirt wasn't too bad, so I used it to clean his face as best I could. Then I poured some water from my canteen into his mouth, and he spit it back out along with an oil slick. We did that until he stopped gagging. I was real happy I didn't have to do any mouth to mouth. I got his eyes and nose pretty clean too, but he was still blinking the sting away when I pulled out my knife and wiped it on my jacket. The kid's face tensed, and he got a look on it that scared me when I saw it. He was bracing himself to die... again. He thought I was going to kill him.His eyes followed the blade as I wielded it over him and sliced at his sling and then his clothing until he lay on the dock completely naked, except for the thick coating of oil. I don't know if he thought that I was trying to humiliate him before executing him, but he did not move and his expression didn't change until I pulled him to his feet and turned the dull edge of the knife into what I can only describe as a snow scraper, except I figured the kid had never seen snow in his life. He did, however, start to appear interested in what was happening to him, and I assured him as much with my tone of voice as I could with the English I was stuck with, that I was not going to let anything happen to him after pulling him out of the Gulf. I told him that he was just as good as any seabird that would be rescued, that as a prisoner of war he had nothing more to fear, and I think I also told him that he didn't have to go back to Iraq if he didn't want to. That was when Juarez told me to shut the fuck up and march the kid down to Kuwait City. When I complained that we should ride if we were going to have to travel all that way, Juarez sneered contemptuously. "Not in my jeep, you're not." "Fucking asshole," I answered. But Juarez was already gone... looking for camera crews, no doubt... they were all over the place. This was my first war. I had expected it to be a lot different. I hadn't expected to have to be on my best behavior every minute because some anchor from the Chicken Noodle Network might disapprove of my conduct, or I might offend America's sensibilities because my motives for wanting to lay waste to a foreign land might not agree with the politically correct reasoning that led me to be here laying waste to a foreign land. "Ah, fuck!" I said, and I guess I sighed. The kid sighed too and sort of watched the jeep disappear. He had a sort of annoyed look on his face until he looked back at me. Then he looked kind of expectant, like he was waiting for orders. I took it as a sign that we were both on the same wavelength and went back to scraping him. Then I fished a new uniform out of my knapsack and put it on. I'd pretty much done a hatchet job on his clothes cutting them off him the way I had. I knew he didn't have anything else to wear, so I tossed a pair of jockeys at him and he pulled them on. I didn't have any problems with him after that. I let him fish what was left of his belongings out of his pants pockets and I put them in my knapsack for him. He had a couple of pieces of ID that were in pretty bad shape. We washed them off and pinned them to my knapsack to dry. Everything else we left lying there... well, there wasn't any sense in taking it, it was ruined. I picked up my gun, pointed the kid south, and we set out to find a medic while my squad joined the others and continued north. But I had no intention of marching him all the way to Kuwait City like Juarez had said. Fuck Juarez! When you saw us on the news, we had already covered a fair chunk of distance. As we walked, I kept trying to communicate with the guy, but he didn't respond... except once when I used his name, I thought he reacted. I knew his name because I had learned enough about the way they write to be able to identify the simple words when I saw them on a menu. Every other place over there is owned by somebody named Ali. If you didn't know better, you'd figure the whole damned place was one big franchise operation, and come to think of it... well, it is... at least as far as the oil is concerned. I could see his papers flapping on my knapsack, and one of his names was Ali, although I couldn't be sure which one, but I decided to call him that since it was all I had. Anyway, I kept talking to him because I figured that he would be able to tell that I didn't want to kill him if I spoke to him in a non-threatening way... sort of like you might talk to a dog when you didn't want him to bite. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not saying he was a dog, but I figured that with him not speaking English and me not speaking Arabic, about the only way we could communicate would be through gestures and inflections. So I kept talking to him, using his name as much as possible, and telling him things that I probably wouldn't have told him if I thought that he could understand. I told him about my town, my friends, the bar I normally hung out in and where I worked when I wasn't busy protecting a bunch of Kuwaiti sheiks from villains like the kid walking in front of me. Ali didn't seem to care. So I started talking about him and the view from where I stood. I told him that as a prisoner of war, he would be provided for under the terms of the Geneva Convention. I told him that he would probably be better off in our stockades than he had been during the war in whatever foxhole Saddam had made him dig. He didn't seem to be able to understand any of this. So I told him he had a nice ass. He seemed to hitch when I said that, but I figured he had just stepped on something sharp. The fact that it had happened when I was telling him that he had nice buns was probably just a coincidence. But I decided not to mention any more about his anatomy... just in case. I couldn't help thinking about it though as we hobbled along in silence. He was a nice-looking kid, or had been before his dive into the Gulf. He'd been dressed in civvies too, a white shirt and black slacks, probably stolen from some clothesline in Kuwait City, or maybe one of the stores that had been looted by the Iraqis before they left. He had a beautiful set of teeth. I could tell that much when I was helping him to wash his mouth back at the docks. I would find out later that he had a nice smile, but the only expression I got out of him that first day, other than a worried look, was a sort of bashful closed-mouth grin whenever something happened that we both found amusing... like when Juarez tripped getting out of his jeep and the Spanish television crew caught it on tape. Unfortunately, Juarez saw the kid smirk, and made a mental note to deal with him later. There was nothing emaciated about Ali. His legs were muscular and formed a nice set of ass cheeks that were rock hard. I knew this because I had scraped them for him. He had a nice chest too, rounded and high with nipples that jutted out handsomely beneath a skin-tight T-shirt... I would find out later. His belly stuck out and rounded down to his crotch. The Iraqi doctor who had delivered him had given him an outie navel that sort of drew your attention until you happened to remember there was something to look at even further south. Of course, up until this time, I had only seen his reproductive equipment covered with a thick slime of oil, but what I'd seen, until a couple of the guys in Juarez's squad had snickered at him and he'd modestly grabbed my shirt and covered himself, had looked decent. It had also looked unusual, but I couldn't quite pin down why and didn't until much later, but he would make a decent basket in the crotch of a worn pair of blue jeans. A couple of miles after we saw the television crew, we scored a lift from a supply truck that was headed back to Kuwait City empty. I cupped my hands together and hoisted Ali up onto the high platform. As I grabbed hold of the side of the box to pull myself up, I was surprised to feel the kid grab me and help me onto the vehicle. I nodded my thanks to him, and he nodded back. I guessed that he felt safer the farther he went with me. Either that, or the Iraqis had done a seminar on the Stockholm Syndrome and he was practicing what they had preached... but I doubted they'd had that much training. Anyway, we sat on opposite sides of the truck and sort of looked at each other as the miles flew past. At one point, he felt something in his eye and raised a dirty little finger to pick delicately at the foreign object. The incongruity of this struck me as funny, and I began to laugh. He looked puzzled for a moment until he looked at his oil-stained body and caught on, then he smirked again and tried not to laugh. I guess he was going through some pretty rough times. He knew that he should have been dead at least three times that day. I'm not saying that my arrival saved his life, but it certainly added some major complications to it. His country was defeated, and so was he. He could have martyred himself on the docks or the battlefield, but instead, he was enjoying a moment of levity with a man he should have killed earlier in the day. Of course, I was just as happy that he hadn't, and I was going over in my own mind a slow-motion replay of the events and wondering what might have happened if any of the plays had gone another way. He pulled his legs up almost under his chin, and the crotch of my oversized jockeys fell to one side, revealing his penis and half of his scrotum. I looked... well, sure I did. I told you already that he was a good-looking kid. But then I remembered how he had reacted earlier on the docks, like he had been humiliated when I'd cut off his clothes, so I said, "Ali, your pecker is hanging out," to get his attention and then I motioned towards his privates. Well, he looked at me kind of funny for a couple of seconds, then he covered himself, but he didn't do it in a hurry, if you know what I mean, and all the while he didn't stop looking at me, and he could see I was watching him too. I felt at the time that he had probably rationalized his predicament and was having trouble dealing with the facts of his new situation. He probably had more questions than I would have had answers for. I know I would have if the situation had been reversed. Yesterday, he had been one of the conquerors of Kuwait. He had been in control. He had been in power.His government had held off the combined forces of the world's armies, who seemed to be throwing everything in their arsenals at them, and still they were dug in and defending what they had taken. Today, he was my prisoner. Nothing was the same. His life was in my hands. Compared to these changes, the fact that some guy from New York had managed to grab his jewels was evidently not particularly important. Of course, there could have been another reason he didn't hurry to cover himself. He might have detected my interest in him and been using his body to tempt me into a dalliance. I dwelt on that possibility as I watched him sitting there and managed to spend the rest of the trip into Kuwait City fantasizing about it. He had his head buried in his arms and his arms wrapped around his knees, but from time to time, he would look up and glance around him. Invariably, our eyes would meet, and I would feel him trying to figure me out. But I didn't have a hard time out-staring him, and he would lower his head back onto his arms whenever he couldn't deal with it anymore. Getting that ride in the back of the truck was probably where I stopped thinking of Ali as my prisoner and started to consider him as a companion... and one who was having a pretty lousy day. The truck driver flagged down a jeep with a red crescent on it. I hopped down and lifted Ali to the pavement, thanking the driver for the lift and then dropping an arm over Ali's shoulder and guiding him to the medics. The best advice the medics had was for us to both get a bath and use a mild detergent to scrub ourselves. They didn't have time to hang around and show us how... they were due up north... but they did direct us to a part of the city where there was a good chance that the water was still on, and we trudged away to find it. On the way, I did a little looting of my own at a men's wear shop and a grocery store. But I left a note in each place with my name on it and a list of the things I had borrowed. The government eventually paid for the things I took that day, but they didn't get a discount. They're still trying to sue me to get the money back. We found a house where the water still seemed to be working, and both of us stripped, and I did a laundry. Then we found the bathroom, and I showed Ali what the medics had told me to do by setting to work on his chest and shoulders. Then I washed his hair and face a couple of times. I turned him into the stream of water flowing from the shower head and was surprised when I felt his oily seven-inch erection slap against my leg. Well, needless to say, this started me growing a bit, and by the time I had finished washing his back, we were both hanging heavy. I told him I thought it was a good idea to get a stiffy since we still had to scrub them, and we didn't want to leave any oil in the folds of skin. I started on my own, and he watched, throwing cupped handfuls of water onto me as I cleaned off my pecker. I finished myself and handed him the sponge, but he didn't seem to want to take it. He was still pretty oily down there, and I didn't understand his reticence to clean it off. His cock was standing straight out from his body, and when I say straight, I mean absolutely straight. I could see that his nuts had tightened to the point that they had almost been sucked back up inside him. I figured the problem was still that embarrassment thing, so I make a move to get out of the tub, only this just seems to bother him, and he grabs my arm. I still can't figure out what's wrong, so he takes my hand and moves it to his cock. He puts the sponge in my other hand, and it's pretty obvious that he wants me to wash the thing for him. Well, I'm game, of course, and I sort of squat down there in front of him and set to work with the sponge while he pours water on it from time to time. Well, I'm stroking it pretty good for him as I clean it, and it's not long before he stops watering the thing. I feel it pulsing a bit in my hand, and before I've got a chance to stand up straight and get out of the way, I'm wearing about nine hundred million sperm cells that ain't never going to fertilize nothing. Well, Ali has two looks on his face about the same time then. There's that stupid look we all get when we come off, of course, but then there's also a look of panic when he realizes that he has just creamed all over me, his captor. I figure there's just one thing for me to do, so I catch a little bit of the stuff on the tip of my finger and lick it off. I roll it around on my tongue a little before I swallow it and announce in my best impersonation of a wine connoisseur, "A little oily, but it has a nice full body." That's when he wrapped his arms around me and started to cry. I held him and stroked his head and hair, knowing it was wrong, and yet feeling that nothing in my life up to now had ever been so right. After a while, I finished scrubbing him. Then we filled the tub with water, and I threw in some of the skin softeners and bath beads I had liberated from the grocery store. As Ali floated in the lukewarm water, he held my hand. I realized that it was the same hand that had slipped through my fingertips as he was swept into the Gulf. I felt the long fingers relax in mine and casually wander around my palm, and I know that I don't want those fingers to ever slip away from me again. I don't know if he felt any of this, but his face looks relaxed and happy for the first time that day, and I know that it's okay for him now... his war is over. He has transferred the responsibility for his future to someone else... someone he trusts with his life... and then I realize that that someone is me. The electricity was not working in that part of the city, and when it began to get dark, I lit some candles I'd scored from the grocery store. As Ali is getting out of the tub, I see a small oil slick has formed, and it's pretty obvious that we've missed a very important orifice. I'm not sure how much oil the kid has up his ass, but I know for sure that it won't come out without a little help. That's why I grabbed an enema bag from the pharmaceutical section of the grocery store. The medics had told me that I might need one. I had hoped that they were wrong, but I guess that stuff got in everywhere. Well, a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do, so I sit Ali on the toilet and leave the room. A couple of minutes later, I hear the flush and go back in. The kid has a worried look on his face. I show him the enema bag and try to demonstrate how it works, but he has already read the instructions that came with the thing and knows what's going to happen. Resignedly, he gets into the tub as I fill the bag with the solution and jury-rig it to the shower curtain rod. Ali offered me his ass with the same trust he showed when he offered me his genitals. I tried not to hurt him as I inserted the tip up inside him, but he was very tight. I wondered how the oil had managed to get in when I could not. I took the tip of the tube away and tried to loosen him up a little with my finger. Well, that did the trick, and before I knew what had happened, he had a pretty decent hold on my left middle digit. I had lost it up to the second joint. I almost wished that it was my cock inside him, until I remembered what else was up there. I fucked him with my finger awhile to loosen him, and then I pulled the switch. The little bugger was almost too fast for me, but I got the tip of the thing started, and when he relaxed for a split second, I drove it home. I let him get used to the feel of the thing inside him for a few minutes while I reached around front and held him reassuringly. Then, as the sun set outside our bathroom window, I released the clamp from the tube a little, and the water began to trickle into him. He looked at me with a funny mixture of concern and pleasure as he felt his abdomen swell, and I removed the clamp. The solution began to fill him. His stomach was starting to distend, and he moaned, but not quite in agony. My hand was still around front, and I felt his tummy tighten and swell, and a freaky sort of pleasure shot through me and into my groin as I realized that he actually liked what I was doing to him, and it was giving me quite a charge too. We were both stiff again, and I reached up and squeezed the bag until it emptied. Ali was making a lot of noise by now, but none of it was intelligible. I quickly removed the tube and replaced it with my finger once more. His poor little belly was bloated and tight. His outie looked like it might blow off with the pressure, but I didn't let him dump. I massaged him all around and felt the curve of his belly right down to his pubic hair. His cock was rigid now and threatening another eruption, but I didn't care. I reached up and pinched his nipples, both of which were sticking out and hard as though little pieces of gravel had found their way inside. When I thought that he could take no more, I lifted him by the finger I had up his ass and guided him to the toilet. As he settled onto it, the pressure blew my finger out of his hole, and I washed up as he relieved himself. Then I left him alone again until I heard the toilet flush. I opened the door and found the one thing I really hadn't expected to find. Ali was mixing up another bag of douche. I was a little concerned that he might have plans to use it on me, but he hopped back into the tub and offered me the tube and his ass. He was still rock hard, and to tell you the truth, so was I. By now, it was dark outside, and the only illumination we had came from the candles. They lent a romantic feeling to our second bout with the enema bag.When I had Ali refilled and my finger once more up his butt, we did a sort of a slow dance there in the tub while I massaged him again to make sure that we worked the oil free from his intestines. I felt his hand grasp mine and direct it down through his pubic hair to his stiff young cock. I wrapped my fingers around it, and he started me stroking it while he stood there with all that water still inside him and my finger up his ass holding it in. Then I felt fingers wrapping around my own John Thomas, and this surprised me a little... but not all that much, I guess. He was massaging me, and he was all set to blow in both directions, but I didn't want that to happen. I had other plans for him... now that I knew what he liked. Well, he'd already blown his load once that night, and I'd been walking behind him most of the day watching that beautiful ass swinging in front of me, and now I had his cock in my hand and he had mine in his, and, well... you can imagine what I felt like... and the candlelight wasn't helping me any, either. I pulled him over to the toilet again and let him get rid of the douche water, but this time I didn't leave the room. I didn't want him touching that cock of his and coming off without me. While he cleaned himself up, I washed the tub out and set the bathroom right. I've never been one of those pigs that leaves their mess for somebody else to look after. I packed the enema bag into the knapsack. Ali looked a little disappointed, but I smiled at him reassuringly and handed him a candle. "C'mon, kid," I said. "Let's find us a bedroom. Then we'll look for a kitchen." Ali led the way to the bedroom, and I found myself wondering if he'd understood my words or my intentions. He still hadn't said a word to me in English. The only thing I'd heard from him that day, other than his diatribe against the U.S. in Arabic, had been a few moans of pleasure in the bathtub. I had done all of the talking since the time I'd fished him out of the Gulf. He stopped outside the bedroom door and turned to face me. In the light of the two candles we carried, his eyes had become two black pools... okay, so they looked like pools of oil, and I'd definitely seen enough oil to last me for a while... but I looked into them and felt myself surrendering to him. That seemed only fair since he had surrendered to me already, so I leaned down and kissed him. That's what he had wanted. I could tell by the way he responded, pressing himself hard up against me and almost bayoneting me with that seven-inch pecker of his. It was still waiting to come off, and so was mine, but we shared a moment of affection there in the hallway before I lifted him into my arms and carried him to the bed that somebody had left in a hurry last August the second. I ate him up with my eyes as he waited for me to take him. His dark young body was one of the most perfect I had ever seen, and I wanted him more than I have ever wanted anyone. I knew it was wrong... well, sure I did. I knew that it would probably end tragically... there was no other way for it to end. But there and then, it didn't matter. We had something to share, and I lifted one of his feet to my lips and I kissed it. He had walked all those miles that day barefoot and had not complained. I could understand why as I kissed him. The soles of his feet were thick. There wasn't much callus, just thick pads that softened his footfalls. I sucked his big toe for a couple of seconds, just so he would know that I would do it. Then I worked my way up past his ankle to his calf, kissing and lightly biting at the muscle until I got to the knee, then along the inner thigh until his testicles brushed my cheek. I kissed them and opened his legs further to reveal his ass again. I shoved my tongue into it and felt him resist a moment before allowing me to enter him. He moaned as I fucked him with it, and he writhed on the bed, pushing against me to admit more. He had grabbed his cock again and was beginning to work it once more, so I pulled his hand away from it and brought my head away from his ass. I swallowed all seven inches and felt an almost immediate explosion as he shot a couple of ounces of semen down my throat. The score was now two field goals to nothing for him. I lifted off his throbbing cock and prepared to go for a touchdown. It was then that I realized that I hadn't thought to pick up any lubricant when I'd gone shopping. There was no way I would be able to enter him without it either. Ali had himself a tight little ass. I looked around the bedroom, then I went back to the bathroom and checked the medicine cabinet. There was nothing I could use. I headed for the kitchen and found some salad oil on a shelf. I figured I should taste it to make sure it didn't have vinegar in it. I had removed most of Ali's natural protection with the enemas. I didn't want to burn his asshole off with acid. The salad oil was okay. It was then that I remembered that I had left my gun outside the bathroom door. It was loaded too. I kicked myself for having been so careless. Ali was still, after all, my prisoner, and here I was standing naked in the middle of some Kuwaiti family's kitchen while my prisoner was half a house away and probably already had my gun. I hurried back to the rear of the house and breathed a sigh of relief when I saw the gun sitting right where I left it. By the time I returned to him, Ali had begun to wonder if I was going to come back and finish what we had started. Already he was hard again... or maybe he'd never come down after he'd come off... anyhow, I was in serious peril of falling behind by yet three more points when I finally worked my way back into his arms and up into his ass. It's a fact that man is the only animal who makes love face to face as equals. I thought of that as I slid into Ali and paused to let him get used to the biggest thing he'd had in him so far. Then when he nodded to me, and began breathing regularly again, I started moving in and out of him while he pinched his left tit with his left hand and matched my rhythm within him with his right hand as he worked himself to climax again. We both shot together, me within him, him all over his chest and the fingers that still pinched his lovely young nipple. I was exhausted and laid there like a beached whale beside him as he kissed me. I drifted off to sleep. I awoke a little while later. Ali was still in bed beside me, but he was sitting up and talking very excitedly to the Iraqi soldier who was holding my own gun a few inches away from my right temple.From the looks of it, he almost seems to have been looking for it. I could understand him not begging me for mercy, him not speaking English and all, but from what I've seen of the conversation, or should I say argument, he's just had with one of his own allies, there has been no pleading involved. I think then that I'm beginning to understand the deal. I know now why Ali was out on the docks that morning. He wasn't just there for the ocean breezes. And he wasn't there because he had decided to finish what the saboteurs who had done the initial damage couldn't bring themselves to do. He had been ordered to go out there and blow the oil. He was not expected back, nor was he expecting to be back in the city. Usually, a suicide mission is a voluntary thing. Sometimes the volunteer is a super patriot who will do anything for his country, but most often the guy who goes is somebody who would probably do it anyway. I've already mentioned that reaming each other's butts is a common thing for the boys to do over there while they're waiting for their wife. But some of them get to liking it, and for them, becoming a man isn't quite so easy. If word gets out, it means disgrace. With disgrace comes low self-esteem and a whole lot of suicides that somehow look like accidents. But I've got my doubts about something. Ali isn't like that, and I'm beginning to realize why when the unthinkable happens. The guy pulled the trigger. I decided I'd waited long enough. I'd already disabled my gun, now I used the butt end of it to disable the guy who held it. Ali didn't see any of this. His eyes were closed. He felt the bed rock a bit and opened them again. The room was dark. I was still beside him. His murderer was on the floor in a heap, and two flashlight beams were racing down the hall and out into the desert night. Obviously, they were unarmed or just plain scared after what they'd seen. I grinned at Ali. He didn't seem to know what to do. But I knew that what he had done already was enough to thank me for having saved his life. We were on an equal footing now, and I knew that equal, in this case, was probably an understatement. I re-lit the candles and regarded our sleeping enemy. "Do you suppose this guy's into bondage?" I asked. Ali returned my smile as he saw the gleam in my eye. It wasn't just a reflection from the candle either. We dragged him to the kitchen where Ali took the largest knife he could find and cut away the guy's clothing, while I reassembled the firing mechanism of my gun. I couldn't help thinking that I had disabled my gun to keep Ali from killing me, but, in doing so, I'd managed to save him. I wondered if I would be able to keep on doing that for a kid who seemed to want to die. Anyway, we found some nice soft rope in the garage, and by the time Mohammed woke up, we had him tied up pretty good. I don't like to brag, but I'd seen some graphics files on my computer that I'd downloaded from a board in Boston, and they showed some guys who'd been done up in bondage. At the time, I'd just figured they were kinky, and I got my rocks off a couple of times looking at them. I never figured I would actually get a chance to practice what I'd seen. Mohammed was a little larger than Ali and a whole lot hairier. He looked like he could use a shave... so we gave him one. But I don't think he appreciated where we shaved him, especially when we nicked him a bit. I found some aftershave, and Ali slapped it on him, but I don't think it really helped all that much. He did, however, smell a little better. That's when he started cursing us... in English. Well, a lot of the words were English, but most of them weren't fit for polite company, so we washed his mouth out with soap, and I told him that if he didn't watch his language, we would rinse it with piss. I stood above him, fingering my pecker and sort of aiming it. Ali joined me and let a stream go, all over the bar of soap. I imagine some of it made its way in, though. I tried to stop him, but of course, I only ended up redirecting him. He couldn't stop once he got started... well, who can? His stream of piss hit the guy's nose and eyes and streaked through his hair before I managed to point Ali away. I tried not to be too harsh with him. After all, I had said what might happen to the guy in English. Ali obviously misunderstood my intention when I stood over him, and he figured I was just having a hard time getting started. I can't say I blame the kid for going ahead and pissing on the guy like that. After all, the guy had, for all intents and purposes, just shot Ali dead through the heart. Mohammed managed to spit the bar of soap across the room. He gagged and spit for a while, and then got down to a serious harangue of Ali in Arabic. Ali had pinched off his pecker's flow and was listening to the guy with a furrowed brow. He seemed to be hurt by what the guy said, or maybe he was just anxious about having started to piss and not being able to finish. I couldn't tell, but when Mohammed wouldn't stop and began yelling again, Ali looked at me with a pained look on his face. I rested my hand on his naked shoulder and guided him to the right side of Mohammed's head. I took the other side, and we both drowned the bastard. How's your drink, by the way? A little warm? Oh, all right, where was I? Mohammed was an unreliable urinal. We got some down his throat, but most of it he managed to spit out or avoid altogether. Well, that meant that we had to mop the floor. I resisted the urge to do it with Mohammed's hair. For one thing, his hair was almost as oily as Ali's had been the day before when I'd fished him out of the Gulf. But Mohammed was lying there in the piss and soap suds and sort of getting in our way, so we dragged him a little ways across the room, and he starts screaming again. Well, we hadn't thought that a short little trip like that would have burned him the way that it did, and we apologized to him, but he didn't seem to think that we meant it and got a little abusive again. So I found the soap and shoved it up his ass. He hadn't been expecting it and was pretty loose back there, a little too loose I thought as the soap disappeared up inside him. I recalled how he had seemed to accuse Ali of being a slut and an infidel for being found in bed with me, and I tapped Ali's arm and demonstrated to him that his buddy seemed to be excavated a little too large to be a virgin. Ali smiled at me for the first time as he too marveled at how easily the soap had disappeared. It didn't stay gone long, though. Mohammed fired it back out, only it wasn't the same color it had been. Well, this got us thinking that Mohammed could probably use an enema. We both came up with the idea at about the same time, and I handed Ali the candle that was closest to us and pointed him to the hall that led to our bedroom. He was back in a flash with my knapsack. Well, by then I was thinking some more about the pictures I had seen from that Boston Board. I knew that Mohammed was unhappy on the floor, but I had no idea how to make a sling. I had never seen one up close... so we improvised. The Kuwaiti whose house we were using had a pretty good workshop in his garage. He had a little bit of everything, including eye-bolts and chain and a damned good portable drill that hadn't completely lost its charge. It had enough juice for me to attach four of those oversized eye-bolts to the ceiling beams that ran through the house. We decided that the living room in the front of the house would probably be the best spot to string him up, so we worked quickly, and half an hour later, we showed Mohammed what we had done for him. He was not impressed. He started telling us what he thought of it, the war, us, and our ancestors, and we decided that we'd heard enough. I fashioned a tea towel into a gag, and things quieted a little. I could tell, though, that his reaction had disappointed Ali, so after we had secured our prisoner in the sling, I led Ali to the refrigerator and let him decide what we should use to clean out Mohammed. It was hard to contain my mirth as we filled the bag with the warm fizzy cola, but as I saw it, Mohammed was going to have an even more difficult time containing himself, and if we were going to do a good job, the cola would have to stay inside him. We needed a dam. We used an onion. It was a smallish Spanish onion, but large by cooking onion standards. It required some effort to get it inserted, especially since our captive was not really anxious to have it up there. I think the head of the enema tube probably pinched when we squeezed it past the onion, but neither Ali nor I felt a thing. I gave Ali the honor of releasing the clamp. Then we watched Mohammed fill up for a while. He went through a variety of expressions, none of which could be described as happiness, as the carbonation did its carbonating and the onion brought tears to his eyes... but not in the usual way. We didn't wait around to watch what happened to the Kuwaiti family's living room. We had already dallied there too long. There had been at least two others with Mohammed, and they had fled. But they knew where their sergeant was, and we had no doubt that they had not left for Iraq without him. We grabbed a few tins of food from the kitchen shelves and pulled on fresh clothes. The desert air did not take long to dry the washing I had done a laundry in the Kuwaiti family's laundry room. I tried to throw out the stained jockeys I had loaned Ali, but he retrieved them and slipped them back on. I tossed him the bag I had brought from the men's store. It contained a few flowing white robes, one of which he pulled on quickly...I had picked out a few because when we stole them, Ali was coated with oil and couldn't try any on; consequently, the rest of them were too large for him. These we stuffed into my knapsack with the food. I figured if nothing else, they might prove useful as blankets. In his new white robes, Ali could have passed for a Kuwaiti. I was tempted to turn him loose and let him take his chances, but to tell you the truth, I didn't particularly care for his chances. There were still Iraqi soldiers around trying to find their way out of the city, and there was also the possibility that he might have offended some Kuwaitis who might remember him when they returned. I found out later that I would not have been able to get rid of him even if I had wanted to. Ali was determined to stick to me like glue, and it wasn't just for self-preservation either. The Iraqi sergeant was distended and in agony when we looked in on him before we left. But there wasn't much we could do for him. He would have to work things out for himself. It was a toss-up whether or not our torture would kill him before he managed to blow the onion out, but he should have thought of the consequences before he'd aimed my gun at my buddy, Ali... and pulled the trigger. I didn't see hate in Ali's eyes when he looked at the man who'd killed him... twice, I would find out later. Sure, the kid had pissed on him when he was down, but, hey, the guy had brought it on himself. The war was over. It had been over when he'd sent Ali to do the job that morning. Everybody else was already on their way back to Iraq. Shit, on our way back into town the day before, we had passed countless cars that had broken down in the desert. They had been filled with stuff that the Iraqi army was taking home with them before the desert and their lack of driving skills had forced them to abandon the idea. There was only one reason for the guy to still be in Kuwait. He was looking for the big score. And he'd kept a bunch of expendable kids around to go and create a diversion for him while he sat in his rat hole waiting for the chance to open up the First National Bank of Kuwait. No, I didn't see hate in Ali's eyes, only a realization. But I saw hate in the eyes of the man in the sling who had ordered Ali to go to the docks and ignite the oil after his first volunteer failed to and fucked off. I put my hand on Ali's shoulder and led him away from the room, his sergeant, the war, and Iraq, and I hoped it would be forever. He stepped in front of me as we left the house, assuming his P.O.W. position. I called his name, and he turned and waited. I caught him up, and from that point on, we walked together, side by side. Well, after all, we had each saved the other's life, he had not shown any desire to escape, and besides, with those long flowing robes he was wearing, I couldn't see his ass anymore. It was still dark. We hadn't slept more than an hour at the most. I was tired, and I knew Ali was too. We plodded along through streets that were too quiet, even for this hour of the day. All we were looking for was another place to sleep, but in the darkness, it was harder to tell which houses were occupied. I was having a hard enough time deciding where to spend the rest of the night. What I didn't need to find was another bunch of Iraqis, and actually, I didn't find them. They found us. It was Ali who first became aware of their presence. He heard something behind us and reached over to put a cautionary left hand on my stomach. But there was this difference in heights, and I thought he was going for my crotch. I was about to tell him, "Not now... not here..." when I heard them too. We were walking past a walled property at the time. When we came to the gate that opened into a small front yard, I tried it and found it open. So we walked in there like we owned the place and found a planter big enough to hide behind. We waited. In the still desert night, we could hear them whispering to each other on the other side of the wall. We watched the gate. After what seemed like ten or fifteen minutes, I saw something slide under the gate. It was quickly followed by something else. Both things rattled on the patio stones that covered the small courtyard. Then a much larger something slid under the gate. It was definitely a rifle. We watched the gate open far enough to admit a hand and the forearm it was attached to. The hand held a piece of white cloth. Whoever these guys were, they were surrendering to me. I ordered them to step inside and remain in the middle of the compound. I was surprised to hear Ali bark a command in Arabic. The gate opened slowly, and one by one, they stepped through it. There were three of them. They all had their hands on top of their heads like they were holding their hats on, except they didn't have hats. I hadn't told them to put their hands up. Evidently, Ali had added that. One of them was trying to speak English. "Please, Joe, us go with you?" Well, it was sort of English. "Are there any others from your squad that didn't turn themselves in?" I asked. "Please, Joe, us go with you?" I looked at Ali, whose face was not visible in the moonlight, but his teeth were. He switched on a flashlight and directed the beam at the group of young soldiers. They were still teenagers, for Chrissakes. Ali barked again, and the three young men pulled their hands reluctantly from their heads and started removing their uniforms. They got down to their boxers and stopped. Ali barked again, and the boxers dropped too. The flashlight played on their bodies. The boys were all holding their hands in front of themselves. Ali sang out again, and the three boy soldiers snapped to attention, their hands at their sides. Ali's flashlight examined each of them for me. Then he called out another order, and they spun around to face the other direction. Again, the flashlight revealed them one by one. Ali turned to me and grinned again. He said something quietly to me in Arabic that I suspected at the time and later found out was "See anything you like?" He said it more for their benefit than for mine. He focused on each bum in the line-up for a few seconds, then handed me the flashlight and went over to examine the clothing and pick up the guns. I found myself shining the flashlight on Ali's posterior, and he noticed this. He grinned at me and wiggled his bum a little before ordering the three soldiers to about-face once more. They had gone back to holding their genitals, and he growled an order at them. Their hands found their pant seams again, or at least the spot where their pant seams would have been if they'd been wearing any pants. Then he examined each of them a little more closely and told them to get dressed. He trotted back to me with the guns and a wrinkled-up nose that made it more than obvious as he shook his head that they hadn't smelled any better close up than they had looked like they might from a distance, and I should stick with him. So, now I had three prisoners to worry about too. It was impossible for me to think of Ali as my prisoner. I now looked on him more as an aide... who am I trying to kid? He was my lover by then. We had been through so much together that it was almost impossible to believe that I hadn't known him twenty-four hours before. I slumped down into the lounge chair that was one of many scattered around the patio. When the sun woke me at six o'clock, I found Ali curled up beside me with his head on my chest in the chair, and our five prisoners snoring on the opposite side of the compound. I blinked, rubbed my eyes, blinked again, and counted them once more. One, two, three, four, five... I realized then that I was probably the worst man for the job I was supposed to be doing. I could barely stay awake in the desert air, and as far as my powers of observation were concerned, well... I had somehow managed to capture two more Iraqis without realizing it. I eased myself out of the chair and managed not to waken Ali. I crept across the compound and looked at them. I recognized the three that had come in and done the striptease the night before. They were huddled together. A little ways from them, an older corporal with a mustache lay on his side with drool staining the shirt sleeve of the arm he was using for a pillow. Another young private slept a few feet from him and twitched fitfully through a nightmare. I went to the gate to get my bearings. It was barred from the inside. I couldn't remember having done that. I lifted the bar and swung the gate open. It squeaked a little, and I noticed some movement along the wall to my right. There were three more Iraqis camped outside waiting to come in... I imagined they were as hungry as I was. I could imagine how hungry Ali was. He hadn't eaten at all the day before, at least after I'd met up with him, and I'd given him two enemas. He joined me sleepily at the gate and collected the Iraqis' weapons. I figured that I had found my second in command, and he appeared to know what he was doing. I decided to let him do it. He ordered them up against the wall, and we frisked them. By now, we were both getting a little sick of looking at shitty Iraqi assholes. And besides, we were about to go to breakfast. By the time we'd marched them downtown, four more had fallen in. None of the restaurants had reopened, so we found one and reopened it. The gas wasn't on, but the water was, there was a grill that we could convert to a barbecue, and the grocery store I had stopped at the day before was just across the street. Ali and I went shopping after sternly warning our platoon to clean the place up, not to try to escape... and not to let anybody else join them until we got back. Somehow, I felt more like the captive than the captor, by now.Ali and I took shopping carts and went off in different directions. I went for the canned goods. He headed for the pharmaceuticals. Our POWs found a whole cupboard full of white uniforms in the back of the restaurant. By the time we got back, the restaurant was ship-shape, there wasn't an Iraqi uniform in sight, there was water boiling on the grill, and a couple of GIs had parked their jeep outside and were strolling in for breakfast. Ali shrugged and went and took their orders while I counted my fourteen prisoners and wondered what they were burning to heat the water. It turned out to be Iraqi military uniforms. We threw the charcoal on top and hoped no one would notice the smell. Word spread quickly that there was a restaurant open in the middle of town, and the army fought their way in for a decent meal. We kept the shopping carts going back and forth across the street all morning. We had to feed ourselves on the fly, but we raked in over five hundred dollars, half of which we divided between the grocery store and the restaurant cash registers. The rest we kept in my knapsack. We were getting ready to leave when the lunch crowd started to arrive. Ali looked at me rather plaintively, and I nodded. By now, there was nothing I could refuse him. But I was bushed. I left the restaurant in his capable hands and went out back to lie down. Along about four o'clock, he joined me and brought me a hamburger he had prepared for me. He fed it to me and smiled when I seemed to enjoy it. Between bites, he wiped my face for me, and when I had finished, he kissed me for dessert. We were in a little office in the back of the restaurant, behind what would have been the freezer if the electricity had still been on. It had a leather couch that I had turned into a bed. Ali locked the door and turned me into his bed. He slipped quickly out of his robes and my shorts and was once again buck-naked. With only a little more trouble, he had my pants and shorts down around my knees. He unbuttoned my shirt as he lowered himself onto me. I detected the odor of shortening and felt its cool, soothing lubrication where his hot asshole surrounded my cock. I pulled him down and kissed him again. Then I groaned with ecstasy as he began raising and lowering himself on my shaft. It wasn't long before we both got a stupid look on our faces, and his cock blew all over my face and chest while mine released within him. He cleaned me off with table napkins and hurried to the washroom in the corner of the office to clean himself. While he was gone, there was a knock on the door, and one of the Iraqis who could speak a little English called in to me. "We make dinner now?" "Yes, of course," I answered. Then Ali was back with me, and sleeping on top of me until it was time to start waiting tables for the soldiers who would come back for dinner when the hot desert sun went down. He dressed me in a set of the long, flowing white robes when we got up, and I have to admit that I felt a little like Lawrence of Arabia standing there while he made the precise adjustments that were needed to satisfy him. When I made my appearance in the restaurant, all twenty waiters oohed and aahed, and spontaneous applause broke out. My platoon was turning into a battalion. When they started planning the breakfast menu, I knew I definitely had to put my foot down. If we stayed there until morning, there probably wouldn't be any room for the customers. I picked out the highest-ranking officer in the restaurant and sat down at his table. "Excuse me, Colonel," I began. "I've got a little problem..." The Colonel was a reservist like me. He was an engineer by training, and as it turned out, a hell of a nice guy. I introduced myself and told him that I had been accumulating a group of Iraqi prisoners all day, but I had been unable to find anywhere to drop them. Ali hovered at my shoulder, looking concerned. "To tell you the truth, soldiers," the Colonel answered, nodding to Ali as well, "I can't help you much on that score. Most of the POWs are being rounded up and moved back to the Saudi side. We didn't find many though. I think at last count, we had half a dozen. How many have you got?" I looked around me. "Twenty... last count..." "Twenty-one," Ali corrected. I looked at my aide. It hadn't struck me yet that he was speaking English, only that he was disagreeing with me. I took it to mean that he was turning himself in as well. "You mean that first guy?" I asked, hoping he would catch my drift and realize I had no intentions of turning him in. "He got away last night, don't you remember?" "No, I don't mean him," Ali answered, relieving my feeling of foreboding. "There's another one at the back door." That was when it struck me that Ali and I were communicating in English. I didn't have long to accustom myself to the idea though. A jeep was pulling up to the front door of the restaurant. Ali pointed it out to me. The driver was Juarez. He looked hungry. "I'll go get the new guy taken care of, Joe," Ali said. "Maybe you should come and talk to him though." Juarez was walking past the window when Ali disappeared. I excused myself and stood up. But the Colonel stopped me. "Twenty-one?" he asked. "Where did you leave them?" "They're all around you, Colonel. They're running the restaurant. C'mon out back when you finish, and I'll fill you in." I ducked out just as Juarez came in. Look, I have to duck out to the kitchen and check on tonight's dinner. You are going to stay for dinner, aren't you? You have to... oh, down the hall... first door on the right..."Sure you do. I just shouldn't have said it. I probably shouldn't have said a lot of things..." "I can't think of any..." "I can..." "I'd rather not talk about it... Joe." "Yeah, I've noticed. Tell me something, Ali... if that is your name..." "Yeah, it is. What do you want to know, Joe?" "Whose ass did we stick that onion up last night?" Ali exploded with laughter, and I joined him. I guess the tension had been pretty great because we couldn't stop laughing. The relief was just too sweet for either of us to give it up. "Don't worry, Joe," he said when he could speak once more. "He wasn't anybody important. He had it coming to him, too. He really was an asshole." Well, that set us off again. The freezer door opened, and a young Iraqi with a tired expression on his face asked us, in English, if we could keep it down. He had been trying to sleep. We took him to the office out back, dressed him in a robe like we wore, and gave him instructions for waiting on Juarez. It was a sure thing that Ali couldn't go out there again while he was in the restaurant, and neither could I. "So, why did you wait until I was talking to the Colonel to start talking English?" I asked as we watched our new waiter stumble over to Juarez's table. "When you told him you only had twenty prisoners, I figured that meant you weren't going to turn me in," he answered. "I also saw Juarez making a U-turn out front, and I figured I might have to say something real quick. I wanted you to get used to the idea before he parked his jeep. When things surprise you, you have a habit of standing there with your mouth open." I looked at him. He smiled at me. "I do not," I said finally, realizing that my mouth had been open. "See what I mean?" he answered. "So, is there a number twenty-one?" I asked, looking behind us at the storeroom full of sleeping Iraqis. Ali smirked. "You sent him out to wait on Juarez," he answered. Then he snorted, "Don't worry, boss. All us Arabs look alike." "Do not," I answered. "Do too," he said. "I think I liked you better when you didn't speak English," I observed. "That sounds like something a Larry would say." "Does not." "Does too." "Am I ever gonna get the last word, now?" "I doubt it." "Shut up. Here comes the Colonel." "Larry..." he mumbled as he returned to the freezer for a quick nap. It sounded like an accusation. It also sounded like the last word. Colonel Roger Hadford was an unassuming man. He stood about five feet, six inches tall and looked more intelligent than physical. He looked around our dormitory and followed me to the little office at the back of the freezer. We talked there, and he told me that they were unprepared for a large number of prisoners. He agreed with my assessment that it would probably be a good idea to move them out of Kuwait as quickly as possible. He told me that this war seemed to be on some sort of timetable. After months of softening up the citizens of Baghdad, the viewing public were getting sick and tired of the air war with its smart bombs that took the viewer to whatever private hell they created when they hit their target, but didn't take them in. These sanitized views of the destruction of private property were just what television networks were after. The continuous replay of buildings being destroyed over and over again should have, they figured, appealed to the video game mentality of the viewer. What they failed to realize was that the average video game was getting nastier than even the pictures coming out of the Middle East. In order to compete with the programmers, the war would have to start showing what happened in those buildings when one of the bombs actually went off. Since these pictures were impossible to get, the pressure was on to start a land war, and the quicker the better. That had happened two days before. There was some resistance, of course, but for the most part, the Iraqis fled back to Baghdad. A few, like Onion Ass, stuck around to line their pockets with whatever they could find. But the majority of my prisoners were looking for one thing... out of Iraq. The trouble with the land war was that the pictures weren't that good either. Technology had taken all of the blood and guts out of the war. The worst thing the cameras could find to record besides the oil spill and the burning oil wells were the hundreds of barbecued Iraqi martyrs who had already met Allah. I couldn't find it in my heart to hate them for having been there. I couldn't glory in their destruction. Theirs had been a private hell. Not even their killers had been there. You see, it was a long-distance war... reach out and crush someone. You really didn't have to be there unless you wanted pictures. In order to get a good shot of the destruction, the photographer had to be there when the bomb, the missile, or the shell arrived. The trouble with that idea was... well, you could get killed. The television cameras were looking for something new now. They wanted the triumphant return of the citizens of Kuwait, even though we all knew it was way too early yet. There was never any really quick way of finding where the mines had been buried... unless you didn't mind losing the odd limb or citizen. That was Hadford's job, sweeping the mines and disarming the booby traps. After talking to the man for a few minutes, I was glad that he was the one responsible. He projected an aura of calm and hadn't let a small thing like being surrounded by a virtual platoon of Iraqi soldiers in disguise throw him. In fact, he commended me for keeping the lid on what might have been a pretty volatile situation by giving the men something to do. He advised me that he was placing me in command of the prisoners officially and would have orders drawn up when he returned to his headquarters. I didn't tell him that I had let my second-in-command look after most of the details and, by the way, he too was an Iraqi. He inquired if I could provide him with a translator to help him find out what my P.O.W.s knew about the mine fields in the area. I told him I had just the man for the job. When I asked him where I should take the prisoners, he glanced out the office door and allowed that they seemed pretty happy right where they were, and if we could see our way clear to providing breakfast, lunch, and dinner for one or two more days, he would try to round me up a truck to transport them, just as soon as we found out what they knew and received orders telling us where they should be taken. I excused myself and went to find Ali to tell him that he would be seconded to Colonel Hadford for a while. I found him in the freezer with Twenty-one. They both had their robes up clutched in their teeth and their shorts down around their knees. They were both masturbating frantically. Between them on a pile of boxes sat a small dish of peaches. "Let me guess," I started. "Juarez ordered peaches and cream..." Ali nodded without missing a stroke. "...and we're all out of cream." Ali smiled as well as he could through his mouthful of robe and nodded again. "Very resourceful, men," I commended them. "Carry on... and see me in my office when you're done there, Ali." Twenty-one was starting to get a stupid look on his face. I saluted and closed the door. It had reconfirmed in my own mind that Ali and I really did a whole lot better without language. Eventually, Juarez left with a belly full of food, a little jism, and a funny taste in his mouth. Colonel Hadford left too after counting the prisoners, all twenty-four of them, and asking Ali if he would screen them to find out if any of them knew anything about the Iraqi mine fields. He asked me if I needed a squad of soldiers to back me up, and for a moment, there was a worried look on Ali's face. I got the message. The fewer, the better... I thanked Colonel Hadford but told him that we hadn't had any problems so far and it might be a better idea to keep things the way they were. He agreed with me and added that there seemed to be enough G.I.s hanging around eating anyway. I could probably get a squad together just by offering to pick up their tabs for them. I took the hint and picked up the Colonel's tab. Hey, it never hurts to polish the brass! The night shift was just coming on, so after the Colonel left, we put Twenty-one in charge and hiked back over to the house where we'd left Mohammed. Things were pretty quiet there. We inched our way in through the rear entrance and worked our way through to the front of the house. The sling was empty. There was shit and cola everywhere, but surprisingly, it didn't smell all that bad. "Try to find the onion," I urged. Ali looked at me, and his face registered distaste in the beam of my flashlight. "Why?" he grimaced. "I want to know if he worked it out himself or whether he had help." Ali mumbled something about it not making the least bit of difference to him, but proceeded on his quest while I mopped up the shit. He found the onion in one piece on the front lawn after he noticed that the living room window had been broken. This probably accounted for the lack of smell. We deduced that Mohammed had blown the onion out. Whether it had broken the window when it was launched or when it was subsequently picked up and thrown by the sergeant after someone had untied him, we could not tell. We did believe that we had tied him securely enough to make unassisted escape impossible, and a check of the ropes we had used confirmed that they had been cut and dropped where they had been removed. Ali picked the onion up with a plastic bag wrapped around his hand. He didn't throw it into the garbage, though. He told me that he was going to keep it as a souvenir. It was important to determine whether Mohammed had escaped or not.If I was going to be placed in charge of a company of P.O.W.s, I wanted to be sure that Mohammed was not among them, especially if Ali was going to be my second in command. I was mulling this over as I looked for clues, and it suddenly struck me that Ali did not have a uniform to change back into. In fact, I had never seen him in any uniform. I supposed that could probably account for my initial attraction to him. He didn't look like a soldier. Right now, he looked like a Kuwaiti - a Kuwaiti who could speak English and Arabic, a Kuwaiti translator. As such, he would not have to have a uniform, and I would be able to put him on my payroll. I informed him of this, and we held a little mustering-out ceremony shortly before I interviewed him for the post of translator. His credentials were impressive. I discovered that he could also speak French and a little Italian. He got the job. We straightened up the place as best we could, and I dictated a note to Ali apologizing for the mess and the holes in the beams. We left it in the mailbox along with a couple of hundred dollars from the restaurant receipts to pay for the damage to the house. I was all set to head back to the restaurant when all of a sudden Ali stopped talking again. He led me through to the back of the house and found some of the candles that we had left. He lit them and carried one to the bathroom. I picked one up too and followed him. He was right, of course - the restaurant had washrooms but nothing for bathing. After the day we'd had, a shower was a good idea, and we had twenty minutes we could spare. We kissed in the romantic light of the candles... well, maybe half an hour... and he turned the shower on. I watched as he reached up under his robe and withdrew an enema bag. Evidently, he had other things in mind. I took my watch off. I had a few things in mind too by then. We stripped and climbed into the tub. We washed each other's bodies, and his touch brought me an erection. It always did. Before I knew what was happening, I was kissing him and wishing my tongue was longer. I wanted to drink him. There was nothing about him that I didn't love. Even his peculiarities were endearing. Traits that I would have found annoying in anyone else, in Ali were charming. He had this nervous tic that twitched his left cheek from time to time. It made him appear to be winking when it happened. He was embarrassed by it. I pretended not to notice it, but secretly waited for it so I could know that there was an imperfection, and know as well that it didn't matter. His cheek was twitching when he broke off the kiss and ordered me to about-face. I figured I was going to get a tonguing. I got the tip of the enema tube instead. I tried to protest, but he had a large handful of my nuts. I couldn't move without losing something, so I opted for my virginity. The experience was... unique. It wasn't at all painful, like I had thought it might be. In fact, it was kind of nice, because it was Ali who was doing it to me and not some three-hundred-pound nurse with three more to do before her coffee break. I relaxed and let him fill me, marveling at my capacity as the bag emptied. Then his finger was inside me, and we were dancing in the bathtub again, only this time he was leading. He guided me to the toilet and pulled the stopper, grinning from ear to ear as I filled the bowl. Then we were back in the tub again, and he was filling me once more, only this time, I was on my hands and knees, and when he replaced the tube, he didn't use his finger. I've already told you that there was a difference in our heights. I guess I've already told you that Ali had seven inches. That was the night I measured them, when they were all inside me. He left a little of himself in there too, hopelessly swimming upstream, and I was loath to let it go. But finally, we were finished, and I was at the point where I would not be able to contain myself much longer. Unfortunately, we were on our hands and knees in the bathtub, joined to each other like a couple of Siamese twins, and it was then that I realized that neither one of us had thought far enough in advance to figure out how we were going to get me to the toilet. I mentioned this to Ali, who, as it turned out, had just been considering the same thing. He, however, had one additional problem - he was right in the line of fire. I felt the pressure building and reached through my legs to feel his testicles. They were hanging loosely in the sack. "For Chrissakes, Ali, don't lose your erection." I'd forgotten that I was in a Muslim country. I should have said, "For Muhammad's sake..." Ali lost his erection, and I blew him to the other end of the tub. Neither of us was seriously injured, but there was a lot of noise, a good deal of embarrassment, and some humiliation. Somehow, our friendship survived its second test of the day. "What's going to happen to me?" Ali asked as we walked back to the restaurant. I wished I knew. All the reports we had heard from the G.I.s who had been dining with us all day had been almost too good to be true. But Colonel Hadford had assured me the night before that they were correct. Essentially, throughout the whole theater of war, the same thing was happening that had happened to me. The Iraqi army was going in two directions. The big joke of the day had been that the palace guard were back at the palace. The true believers were on their way back to Baghdad. The skeptics were giving up in droves. No decision would be made about their fate for months, possibly years. I had promised Ali that he would not have to go back to Iraq. When I'd promised him, I hadn't been aware that he spoke English, and I also hadn't been sure if that was true. I had been speaking to him as you would to an injured animal, trying to soothe his fears with my voice, not my words. I knew nothing about him. I didn't know his last name for Chrissakes. There were a lot of blanks to be filled in. But all that didn't matter. That was just stuff for the pencil-pushers. Those guys have all the answers, and they can tell you forty different reasons why you can't do something. What Ali wanted to know was what was going to happen. That was a whole lot different from knowing what was not going to happen. He wanted to know my plan... and I didn't have one. I didn't tell him that, though. "You're going to be coming back to New York to live with me," I told him. "Really?" "Really," I confirmed. Now all I had to do was figure out how. But you know, after I made the promise to him, I knew in my heart that it was all I'd ever wanted since I'd met the kid, and I knew I had to find a way. "What's your last name, Ali?" "Do you really want to know, Joe?" "Yes, I do." "It's Hussein." "You mean like..." "No relation. I was thinking of changing it, anyway." "Oh? To what?" "Anything else, actually. What's yours?" "St. Laurent," I supplied. "My father's family came from Montreal." He hadn't said anything, so I figured he was probably having trouble with his geography. "That's in Canada..." "You're kidding... right?" "No, why?" "Larry Saint Larry?" he quizzed. Evidently, he knew where Montreal was. "Yeah... so?" I think I was probably a little on the defensive by then. "I've gotta meet your parents." "Don't worry, you will." I felt his arm go around my waist. It was unusual for this display of affection to happen in public in an Arab country. But, what the hell! The lights were still out, and it was dark. I dropped my arm over his shoulders. We both stopped talking. The next day, Colonel Hadford showed up for breakfast and gruffly ordered me to get my uniform back on. After he had eaten, he stood up and held a little ceremony right there in the restaurant to give me a field promotion. It was actually quite touching, being surrounded as I was by my twenty-seven captives/employees and, more importantly, my best friend/lover, too. And it was totally unexpected. Hadford had done his homework after he'd left the restaurant the previous evening. Evidently, there had been a few promotions after the invasion, and this opened up a little room for advancement. He secretly admitted to me in the office of the restaurant after breakfast that the pressure had been on for the military to produce a few heroes for the media. Some of the promotions had been done in a press conference earlier that morning that was synchronized to coincide with a talk show in Washington. It was Colonel Hadford's belief that some of the stripes and scrambled eggs passed out then had really not been deserved, and it would have been kinder to the legitimate recipients to let them get their sleep. So, in my case, that was precisely what he'd done. Besides, he told me, my outfit was kind of unique, and although he personally approved of my initiative and what I had done, he doubted that legal affairs back at the Pentagon would support me. That had been the real reason my mug hadn't been plastered all over the known universe with the rest of the bozos who had stumbled into headquarters at two o'clock in the morning to be on television. I don't think anybody was watching anyway... at least not in New York. It was a big hockey night on television, and both teams were playing. Anyway, I got a new hat, and Ali and I had been able to get some sleep. After the workout he'd given me back at our house, as we were now calling it, we needed all the rest we could get. Ali did not get much rest, though. After breakfast, he took the Colonel out to show him the spots where the mines had been planted. I could not remember him having talked to any of the others about the location of mines, but he seemed to have his information straight. As I waited for him to come back, I got to thinking about this. He probably had been involved in planting them.How else could he explain how he knew where they all were? It certainly seemed like the sort of work Ali would do. It might even explain that nervous tic of his. Several times he had displayed what could only be described as suicidal tendencies. I still hadn't asked him about that. I supposed I should. They say you're supposed to confront that sort of behavior and bring it out into the open. I was lost in these thoughts when Juarez's jeep pulled up just outside the window where I was sitting. The breakfast rush was over, and the boys were trying to find something to throw together for lunch. I was writing out a shopping list. Juarez climbed out of his jeep and stood not three feet from where I sat. He was looking right at the window. I was on the other side. He pulled out a comb and used the window as a mirror to tidy up his hair. Then he pulled his hat back on and looked around as another jeep pulled up. He strolled to the door of the restaurant, but I could not move. I was transfixed by what I saw happening on the street. Colonel Hadford was getting out of his jeep. Ali hopped down beside him. They both strolled towards the restaurant door. I was amazed that Ali didn't display any recognition of Juarez. He walked behind Colonel Hadford, though, and when he passed in front of the window, he looked up at me. His left eye winked... well, it twitched. I could tell that he was aware of the situation. Juarez was smiling and holding the door for the Colonel. Colonel Hadford acknowledged him with a nod and stood aside to let Ali go in first. I headed for the back room. Ali followed me quickly and had just about made it when Juarez called out, "Hey, you in the bathrobe..." Ali froze not two feet away from me on the other side of the door. "Yes, sir..." he answered. "Bring me a hamburger, will ya? And step on it..." Ali looked at me. He was twitching like crazy now, but he swallowed and grinned a bit. "I can do that," he advised me, "although I don't know why he would want me to step on it..." Then in a louder voice, he asked, "Do you want any onion on that?" "Yah, everything on it," Juarez answered. Ali stepped through into the back with me. I grabbed him by the shoulders. "You wouldn't, would you?" I asked him. "That's the guy I brought it back for," he answered. I tried to convince myself that Ali was just pulling my leg. But I hadn't had to know Ali very long to fear that he wasn't. I was happy that he and I had managed to end up on the same side... somehow. Ali could be either a very loyal friend, as I was already aware, or a very bad enemy, as Juarez was in the process of finding out. Unfortunately, Juarez was exactly the same as Ali when it came to his abilities as an enemy... I don't know about how he was with his friends. I never knew him to have any friends. I made Ali promise to throw the knife away after he used it on the onion... if he used it. Chapter Four Bugging Out or Breaking Up Is Hard To Do We got the word from Colonel Hadford that we'd have to leave for Saudi Arabia the next day. I hadn't really had time to think much about the imminent change of fortune that my group were facing. Some of them I hardly knew. Others I had developed a rapport with that made it hard to think of them as my prisoners. I didn't know any of their names, except Ali of course, although by then there was no longer any thought in my mind that he was anything but my hired translator. Colonel Hadford had signed the paperwork without batting an eye and issued a temporary ID in Ali's name when I vouched for him having lost everything to the Iraqis who had been holding him prisoner. I did not elaborate too much about my actions liberating him from the house where they were threatening to kill him, but I believe the colonel could read enough between the lines to know that it was implausible at best and impossible at worst. You'll notice that a lot of my story was based in reality. Of course, I had to fudge a few of the details here and there, but I figured I'd been through enough with Ali to know where his loyalties lay. The way I had it figured, Ali had faced an Iraqi firing squad. That Ali was dead. Nothing could bring him back. And since it had been my gun that had killed him, if he had been killed, I was sort of responsible for his body, which, through a technicality, was still alive. The rest of the guys were a different story. Like I said, I didn't know them by name. Early on we'd assigned them identities based upon their order of surrender. Their numbers became their names in my mind as well as theirs. The kids who had surrendered to Ali and I and done the striptease that first night were the youngest we had. Three was hardly more than sixteen. One was a little older than Three, but not by much. Two was the old man of the group and might have been eighteen, but not for many months. They were all students, of course, and looked out of place in a war. But they proved themselves to be willing workers in our restaurant and were only worried about one thing, the threat of being sent back to their homeland. That's why they surrendered to Ali and I. They had seen us enter the city and followed us to the house where we'd washed off the oil. When we'd gone in, Ali had been my prisoner. That had been obvious to them. They had remained concealed outside, keeping an eye on the house from a distance until darkness fell and they had felt that they could approach without being seen. I learned later that they had been watching Ali and I in the bedroom and knew what we had done. Then they had seen Mohammed and his two boy soldiers arrive. They withdrew to a safe distance but kept the house under observation and were moderately surprised to see the two Iraqi soldiers high-tailing it a short time later. A little while later, they observed Ali and I leave together rather than as captor and captive. I guess they had waited for us to clear out before they crept into the house to find Mohammed bare-ass to the breeze in the sling with an onion up his ass, not a single pubic hair to his name and his uniform in pieces on the kitchen floor. Despite his muffled protestations, they left him there and set out after us. Evidently they liked my style and didn't want to lose Ali and I, but they'd agreed amongst themselves that it would not be in their best interests to surprise us. So they tailed us at a distance while Two worked on his little English speech. When Ali told them to take their clothes off, they almost believed they were in for the same treatment Mohammed had received. But when he told them to get dressed again, they realized that he had only been searching for hidden weapons... and to satisfy his own curiosity. When I fell asleep shortly after their arrival, Ali evidently filled them in on his day and explained the pecking order to them. Four arrived a short time later as Ali was getting ready to join me in the chaise lounge. Ali knew Four. He had seen him around, and Four outranked him, but that didn't stop Ali from taking his rifle from him and adding it to the pile. Four and Ali were the same age, twenty-two, but Four was a more mature twenty-two and already had a full mustache that made him look older. Ali had something that Four didn't have, though. He had a command of the English language, and he had my trust. Five arrived while Ali and Four were working out their relative stations. Five told Ali that he didn't have a gun. Ali believed him, but ordered the two of them to strip anyway. He had ulterior motives. In the case of Four, he wanted to see if he could make him do it without me to back him up. As far as Five was concerned... well, he just wanted to see him naked. Five was kind of hot-looking and humpy. Everybody watched when he took his clothes off, and everybody enjoyed it... well, everybody but Five... and me. I missed that show. Ali barricaded the gate and watched his captives for a while before crawling into the crook of my arm in the chaise lounge and covering us both with one of the surplus robes from my knapsack. Six, Seven and Eight arrived together as he was trying to get to sleep. They had noticed Five going in and had waited to see what would happen to him. They shook the gate a little, and Ali had to get up and tell them that we were no longer admitting anyone, but they could re-apply in the morning. Evidently they remained on guard outside the gate for the rest of the night. Six was the last teenager we got. He was nineteen and spoke a little English, as did Five, but communicating with my prisoners was no longer a problem, and by now I had pretty much grown accustomed to relying on Ali to read my mind. I should have realized that he was listening to me mumble and taking his cues from the things I said to myself, but at the time it just seemed like we were on the same wavelength. As my P.O.W.'s numbers approached double digits, it became increasingly difficult for me to remember who they were. Their faces blurred together too, mostly because by the time we hit thirteen... or should I say, Thirteen hit us... we were at the restaurant, and I had left the responsibility of looking after roll call to Ali. The only one of my double digits that I really got to know early on was Twenty-one. Twenty-one was a long, gangly kid with a permanently furrowed brow. He looked like he was always worried about something. He had huge hands and feet attached to long limbs that he sometimes didn't seem to have any control over. He was a studious young man and spoke English just as well as Ali. The two of them read everything they could get their hands on and spoke English when they discussed what they had read. Quite often, they agreed about what they were discussing.Sometimes they didn't, though, and whenever they couldn't, they would ask me to referee. Some of the stuff they asked me to decide about was right out of my league. I found myself becoming very fond of Twenty-one. Ali noticed us whenever Twenty-one would hang around outside the office door talking to me a little bit too long. But he never said anything to me about it. I think I found out why the night before we were to bug out for Saudi Arabia. I was having trouble sleeping. Perhaps it was because Ali's body was too warm next to mine. During the night, I felt him get up and I sort of figured he was headed to the bathroom for a leak. But he didn't go to the bathroom. Instead, I heard the office door open and close quietly. It seemed like a nice night to take a little walk, even though we were both naked, so I got up too and followed him out. He wasn't in the restaurant. Neither was Twenty-one. I did hear quiet English-speaking voices coming from the back door, though. I peeked out in time to see a naked Ali disappear beneath Twenty-one's robes. A little while later, he became visible again when Twenty-one pulled the robes over his head and let them fall at their feet. Ali was standing on tiptoe with his hot young shaft plowed all the way up into Twenty-one's ass. Twenty-one's own ample member was stiffening rapidly... as was mine as I watched in the moonlight. I watched them without them knowing, and I felt like a voyeur. Behind me in the restaurant, the noises of men sleeping made me aware that I too was probably being observed. In fact, it wasn't long before Five stepped out of the shadows not six feet away from me and pulled me back from the door. He led me to the office and inside it as if it was the most natural thing for him to do. He closed the door behind us and leaned against it as if telling me that what was going on in the alley was between the two young men who were making love. But I thought that I was getting another message from Five as well. I lit a candle to be sure, and when the light filled the room, I found a frightened teenager with worried eyes biting his lower lip and looking expectantly at me. "Do you want to stay here with me a little while?" I asked, sinking to the sofa. Five looked perplexed. "Ali is with you," he told me. "Not right now he isn't," I contradicted. "He seems to be with Twenty-one." Five let a small grunt of a laugh escape him, but he did not lose the frightened expectant look. If anything, it got worse. But he did stop leaning against the door. He stood momentarily just in front of it, and I couldn't tell whether he was about to flee through it, but he stepped away instead and drew closer to me. I sat up on the sofa, and he hesitated a little before stepping directly in front of me. I noticed that he swallowed hard. I noticed also that he was showing hard beneath the apron he wore. I lifted the apron. His pecker was sticking out of his fly. Evidently, he'd been watching Ali and Twenty-one too. I untied the apron strings and unhitched his pants. He did nothing to encourage me, but neither did he discourage me as I pulled the white pants down to his ankles and swallowed him. He really was an attractive young man. He had worked out with weights. That was evident. But his body was also soft, as though he had only tried to add bulk. His cock was not as long as Ali's. He lacked a couple of inches. But it was about the same diameter and easy to swallow. His nuts were drawn up, wrinkling their sack. I licked them a few times and tasted the salty funky flavor of his perspiration. I turned him and admired the fleshy young ass cheeks and their two dimples where they attached themselves to Five's back. I parted them and found his shit hole. The smell was, as always, mildly repulsive and completely addictive. I tasted him and knew what flies found compelling about the area. I drove my tongue into him and heard him gasp and felt him shudder. He was beating himself rapidly now, and I reached around front to slow him to a more relaxed pace as I prepared him for bigger things to come. I turned him again and pulled him to the couch beside me. I unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it from him, massaging his beautiful round chest and rubbing my hands along his belly to his crotch. He did the same to me afterwards. Then he was kissing me and crying. I tasted the salty tears that I managed to lick from his face before I pulled him away from me and asked him what was wrong. "Ali said he doesn't have to go back. He said you promised him, Joe. What's going to happen to the rest of us? What's going to happen to me, Joe?" "My name is Larry, Five. What's yours?" "Abdul..." "Abdul, I'm going to do my best for you... for all of you. When we get to Saudi Arabia tomorrow, I have to look up a buddy of mine in legal affairs. He'll be able to tell us where we stand. But what I told Ali is the truth. I'm not going to let them send you guys back to Iraq... unless you really want to go. Do you want to go back?" "No," he answered quietly. "I can't go back." "Why can't you go back, Abdul?" "Because I come from a family who would kill me if they knew I was sitting here naked with you." "You won't have to worry about that," I answered. "I won't tell anybody. Besides, nothing happened. You didn't do anything. You don't have to do anything. Why don't you put your clothes on before..." "Larry, you don't understand. I want this to happen. I just don't want you to think I'm doing it just so I won't have to go back to Iraq. I'm doing this because I can't do anything else." He held my eyes with his own, and I couldn't help falling under his spell. "I'm doing this because I like it. But if I go home, I will have to marry a woman... and I do not like women. Do you understand, Larry?" I had to admit that I did. "But why are you crying?" "Because I can... now. I am here with you. You are an American... and you are going to make it all right." I swallowed hard. I hoped my buddy from New York, Jerry Weintraub, would have the answers I was looking for. Jerry worked back in Riyadh, at headquarters which was so far behind the front lines that grunts like me in Kuwait referred to it as hindquarters. Jerry was a very successful lawyer and had done a lot of immigration work in New York. If anybody had the answers, it would be Jerry. I relaxed a little and thumbed a tear from Five's... make that Abdul's face. "I'm going to do my best," I told him. "And now that Colonel Hadford has put me in charge of you guys, you can be sure that I'm not going to abandon you.""I thought we might have a pajama party." "But, Ali, we don't have any pajamas," I grinned. "That makes it even better, doesn't it?" I had to agree with him. I awoke the next morning with Ali beside me in his usual spot, curled up with his head on my chest. On my other side lay Abdul, facing in the opposite direction so that his groin was just about where my face was. I remember having made use of its proximity at one point during the night. Then Ali had demanded equal time, of course. It was light enough for me to see Abdul now, and although the warm glow of the candle no longer lent its gold to the color of his skin, I could tell that there was enough warm bronze there to cause his skin to glow all by itself. He really was incredibly beautiful lying there. There was something else different about him from the first time I saw him sleeping on the patio. He wasn't twitching from a nightmare. He had an expression of peace on his face. I realize then that he too has off-loaded the responsibility for his future onto someone else's shoulders, and it doesn't take me long to remember what I told him the night before. It also doesn't take me long to remember what day this is and to realize that in a couple of hours we're going to be in Saudi Arabia, and so far I have no idea of what I'm going to be able to do for these guys. This fact is sort of driven home to me when Twenty-one walks in with his robes on and tells me that Colonel Hadford is waiting for me out front with a very big truck. Well, I pulled my uniform on as quickly as I could and hustled my ass through to the front of the place, and the first guy I run into out there is Juarez. He's looking real mad and not too well. Normally Juarez has a pretty good tan, but today he's sort of greenish-gray. When he sees me, I figure the jig is up, but instead he sort of nods at me and goes right on haranguing the boys on the morning shift. None of them speak English, fortunately, so Juarez turns to me and tells me that if I'm smart, I'll avoid this restaurant because something he got there the day before has kept him up all night and turned the sand outside his tent into a latrine. Then all of a sudden he remembers that he hasn't seen me for a few days, and he looks at me and sees that my rank has gone up too. "Where'd you get the extra stripe?" he asks. Well, without going into too much detail, I explain that I got it from rounding up a bunch of Iraqis single-handedly. Then I tell him I'm in charge of moving them out to Saudi Arabia. He looks like he's almost listening to me when all of a sudden he makes a dash for the bathroom. There's a bunch of G.I.'s having breakfast, and Colonel Hadford is waiting for me out front. He's seen me too, so I can't go back and tell Ali to keep his face out of the restaurant. Since none of the P.O.W.'s currently out front can speak English either, I scribble a note on a scrap of paper and give it to Ten, who looks fairly smart. I say Ali's name and point to the back of the restaurant. Ten smiles at me and nods and stands right where he is. So I take the note back and do my best to write Ali's name on it in Arabic. I give it back to Ten, and he admires it and smiles at me again, all the while he's nodding his head. I'm sort of getting exasperated by this when all of a sudden Twenty-nine, who's working beside Ten, looks at the note and grabs it from him. Twenty-nine disappears out back. I have to go through to the front where the colonel is waiting for me. "How many have you got now?" Colonel Hadford asked me as I joined him on the sidewalk. I had to confess that I didn't know. I left all of that to Ali to keep track of. Colonel Hadford allowed that I had a good man there and I had certainly been lucky to come across him... regardless of where I got him. I agreed with the colonel and listened to his description of how Ali had led him to every minefield they had managed to find and how this had led to a more rapid repatriation for the citizens of Kuwait. Then he glanced at his watch and realized that the repatriation was about to begin and it might not be a bad idea if I got my men loaded onto the truck and the hell out of Kuwait. We agreed that it might be a better idea to move the truck around back, since there were still soldiers having breakfast, and what they didn't know about who had been feeding them for the past few days wouldn't hurt them. I climbed up beside the driver and showed him where to go. As the men climbed into the truck, I counted them out of curiosity. They misunderstood and thought that I was getting their numbers confused. They, of course, corrected me and threw my count off. I had to keep starting over. Ten and Twenty-nine were the last to join us. They had been holding down the fort in the restaurant and wanted to make sure that their last few customers were satisfied before they sidled out and climbed up on the truck. Ali did a quick head check and announced that he had counted thirty-nine. I had given up at twenty-seven. I pushed him up between the driver and myself, and a moment later we were off. At the end of the alley, a very frightened-looking Iraqi soldier surfaced from the dumpster where he had been concealed and chased after our truck. With the helping hands of the men at the back of the truck, he was soon hoisted up. Ali and I watched through the rear window of the cab as the young man was thrown into the middle of the truck and unceremoniously stripped of his uniform. It disappeared in small rags along the side of the road. Ali grinned at me. "Forty," he said. We headed down the highway past the "Devil's birthday cake" and choked our way through the greasy smoke of the hundreds of burning wells. We knew that we had almost overstayed our welcome when we began running into traffic coming from the other direction. It was a flotilla of automobiles with Kuwaiti flags and American flags, and people hanging out of every window and flapping in the breeze. They were all sounding their horns and singing patriotic songs at the tops of their voices. It was unsettling for our vehicle to be caught in the midst of all of this celebrating. Unsuppressed nationalism can be a dangerous thing. I figured I had better get my gang celebrating too, or they might look a little conspicuous, especially since we were bucking the traffic, so I opened the door and climbed into the back. Ali followed me, ostensibly to translate, but more than likely because he was scared stiff and looked it. I taught them how to sing "Mairzy Doats and Doesy Doats," which was the least offensive and most meaningless song I could come up with on the spur of the moment. By the time we reached the Saudi border, they had it down pretty good and had even picked up the first verse. We had also managed to make it through the celebrating Kuwaitis. As the truck picked up a little speed, I helped Ali back into the cab. As he climbed down, a gust of wind took his robes and lifted them like Marilyn Monroe's skirts. He was wearing my underwear again. I grinned and swung in beside him. "There's been a slight change in plans," I told the driver. "We've got to make a stop in Riyadh." He looked at me kind of funny and inquired if I was aware of how far out of the way that would take us. I replied that it didn't matter, and the driver accepted the change with only one more protest. "We'll have to gas up somewhere," he mentioned. "Do you know where we can get some?" "Sure," I said. "Poke a stick in the sand..."The only thing that even vaguely made them look like prisoners was the number Ali had marked in indelible ink on every piece of clothing, to avoid arguments and to make it easier for me to identify them. The only man without a number was Forty. But then he didn't have anything but his underwear and boots. Forty stayed in the truck. If the outside of the building was unassuming, the inside was not. Inside, the building was a mass of corridors leading past tiny cubicles in a labyrinth that seems to be common to most army structures. It's sort of like life in the service, all twists and turns with an appropriate number of dead ends built in to discourage the faint of heart. I've never liked the army. That's why I'm a reservist. I can only deal with it in small doses. I didn't find Jerry in his office. He was at a meeting in the restricted area down the hall. It was some sort of press conference for a visiting dignitary from the States, a congressman or a senator or a minister or something. I never did find out who it was... not that I care... I figure we were lucky to get off without being charged or shot... or both... but I'm getting ahead of myself. Jerry eventually showed up, and he was kind of glad to see me, but he didn't really have time for me. He was busy keeping track of what people were saying to this guy from the States. He had just come back to his office to get his jacket and was on his way to the reception that was being given after the press conference on the lawn on the other side of the building. He told me to come along with him and he would try to find a few minutes for me between the gaffes in protocol that were certain to happen. I tried to broach the subject of my P.O.W.s, but Jerry was not listening to me. He was talking on his radio and informing the security at the reception that it would be getting started in about ten minutes. Then he said something that I should have caught, but I was too busy trying to get his attention that it slipped right past. He asked whoever he was talking to if those damned caterers had arrived yet. There was an answer that I couldn't quite hear, but Jerry seemed satisfied and we were off down the hall double time. I stayed on the periphery of the gathering. I don't like lawn parties with politicians. When you throw in army brass they become doubly dangerous. You can ruin two careers in one fell swoop. I tried to remain inconspicuous, which was hard, since I was the only one there not in dress uniform. Even the waiters looked better than I did. I found a nice little bricked patio that had been set into the ground away from the lawn and pulled up a chaise lounge behind some shrubs. I could keep an eye on the party from there, but I didn't think anyone would see me. I was wrong. "Would you like some punch, sir?" The voice had a familiar ring to it, but I was busy watching Jerry through the shrub. I waved my hand to dismiss the waiter and was surprised when he answered, "Aw, c'mon, Joe. I'll fix it just the way you like it." I turned in time to see Ali pissing in an empty glass. When he finished he handed it to me. I was too dumbfounded not to take it. My mouth was hanging open too. Ali reached over and lifted my jaw shut with his finger. "What the hell are you doing?" I asked, finally finding my tongue. "Taking a leak," he said as he dropped his pecker back into his pants. "What are you doing here?" I clarified. "We were drafted," he answered. "Did you want ice for that?" "What?" I put the glass down on the table beside me. "What do you mean you were drafted?" "I mean just that. We were just standing around out front and this colonel came out and asked us if we were the group from food services." "What did you tell him?" "We told him that we had a little restaurant experience." "But you aren't supposed to be looking after this." "No, but the guys who are aren't here. So we said we would help him out." "Does he know who you are?" "He never asked." "Ali, do you have any idea of who is here today?" "No, who?" "I dunno... but there's a lot of brass. What if one of them finds out who you are?" "They probably think we're Saudis." "But you're not..." "We look like Saudis..." "I look like a Brit... but I'm not." "So what's your point, Larry?" "The point is, you're not Saudis." "We weren't Kuwaitis either. But everybody thought we were when we were in Kuwait. If we were in Spain, they'd probably think we were Spanish. Larry, we've been doing this for days now. Don't worry, nothing will happen. Besides, the food is good here, and we get to eat out back. Have you had anything yet?" "No." "Why not?" "I'm trying to remain inconspicuous." "The best way to do that is to mix in. I've been working this gig now for over an hour and all the people are talking about is that queer duck hiding behind the hedge." "You mean me." "Sorry about the 'queer' thing." "You think I should mix a little?" "That's the only way you'll ever get to talk to that lawyer friend of yours. Try the pâté..." "What have you done to the pâté?" "Nothing. Juarez isn't here. I already told you we're eating this stuff too... Oh don't let me forget to take a doggy bag to Forty. And could you see about getting him some clothes, Larry? Our bag is out back with my clothes. There's plenty of money and I think there's a store across the street. There's something over there. He's a size thirty-six regular. Look, I've got to go and get another tray of drinks..." "Ali," I called after him. "What, Larry?" "You'd better do up your fly." He looked down and pulled it carefully up. "I guess I've been wearing the robes too long," he blushed. I followed him up to the lawn. He disappeared out behind the tent that had been set up at the far end of the lawn. Moments later a tall gangly young man with a furrowed brow and large hands and feet handed me a plate of food. There was a large dollop of pâté in the middle of it. "Thanks, Twenty-one," I said. "Don't mention it, boss. Nice party, huh?" "It would be if I knew any of these people..." "Yah, I know what you mean. Be careful with the pâté. It tastes a little funny." "Thanks, but I'm not a pâté person. What happened to the truck driver?" "He's across the street at the Officers' Club. He got tired of waiting for you and said we should send somebody for him when we're ready to leave. He left Ali in charge." "So Forty is all alone in the truck?" "I hope so." "Does he speak English?" "He doesn't even speak Arabic right now. He's scared shitless. I think he's hiding under a tarpaulin. I don't know how long he's been hiding out in the dumpster, but we heard noises last night." Twenty-one sighed and I followed his gaze. Five was coming out of the tent with a tray of drinks. His waiter uniform hugged him in all the right places... places we longed to hug him. We both fell silent as we followed his progress through the crowd. The Senator or Congressman or whoever he was took a drink and Five passed along the line. One of the Senator's or Congressman's aides got the last drink on Five's tray. We saw Five smile and turn to walk back to the tent. But the aide said something to him. Five stopped and smiled a nervous smile at the man, who was probably in his twenties. We saw him say something and the aide brightened as Five once more turned away. "You'd better get over there, Boss," I heard Twenty-one suggest, but I was already moving. I needed to get within earshot in a hurry. "Abdul," Five said, and there was relief on his face when he saw me approaching. "Well, Abdul, I was wondering what it is that you do when you're not working affairs like this one." "I... work... in a restaurant." "Oh? I thought that this was being catered by the army. You aren't in the army?" "No." "Not in this army anyhow, eh, Abdul?" I asked. "That's right," Abdul agreed. "Not this army." I introduced myself to the aide. "The Saudi army then?" the aide speculated. "Actually, Abdul just came down to Riyadh after a tour of duty in Kuwait. He's headed back north after the reception. He'll be working at a P.O.W. camp with me." "Lucky P.O.W.'s..." the aide observed. "Where do I surrender?" There was no mistaking the signals that were being sent. Five smiled nervously, but did not take the opportunity to move. It was pretty obvious that he was enjoying the attention. The aide was a handsome man with blonde hair and gray piercing eyes. The eyes were piercing parts of Five's body that would normally never be pierced. Five's shy quiet eyes were returning the favor, a little more discreetly. "Do you have any more punch?" I inquired when the moment had gone on too long and showed no signs of abating. "Sorry, sir," Five answered and departed, remembering where he was and, hopefully, who he was. "So, Lieutenant," the aide remarked, "how do you like running a P.O.W. camp?" "I don't know for sure," I answered. "I haven't started yet. I'll be going there after the reception." "Where did you say the camp is?" "I'm not really sure. That's why I'm here actually. I have to talk to a friend of mine from New York. He'll probably be able to tell me. If not the truck driver will know. Truck drivers always seem to know." "Oh, do they? That is a useful piece of advice... er, information." The aide wandered off in the direction of the tent. I could not follow without appearing too obvious. I didn't have to worry though. Twenty-one was tailing him by now. I had been right about our abilities to communicate without language. We were all on the same wave length. I took my leave and crossed the street to the PX to do some shopping. When I got back to the truck I didn't see anyone in it. There was a tarpaulin in the corner though and I jumped up inside and pulled it off. Forty was there all right.I could smell him before I could see him. He must have been living in that dumpster for a while. I did my best to smile at him through the fumes, but something had to be done, especially in the desert heat, or one or both of us was going to be sick. I looked into the cab of the truck and was relieved to see the keys in the ignition. I'd been watching the driver all the way from Kuwait City and was pretty sure I could handle one of these things. I'd driven a school bus in upstate New York, and the truck didn't look that much different. I held my hands out in front of me in what I hoped was the international sign to tell the guy to stay put. Then I crawled over the side and into the cab. The motel was called the Desert something or other. With all the news and extra army personnel around, I had to drive halfway back to Kuwait before I found a place. They had rooms, and I rented one. I backed the truck to the door of the unit and parked it. Then I went to the back of the truck again and motioned to Forty to come with me. I led him to the bathroom and turned the shower on for him. Then I left him alone. I switched on the television and found a channel with a news program on it. The announcer was speaking Arabic, but there were plenty of maps and charts. I could tell who was where, and from the looks of it, our side was winning... fast. I had been there about twenty minutes when the water stopped running, and Forty appeared at the door of the bathroom as naked as the day he had been born. He hadn't stopped to take a towel. He stood dripping in the middle of the floor with his eyes glued to the set in disbelief. I figured this was probably the first time he'd had any news of the war in days. The television reception is pretty bad in dumpsters. I smiled at him and patted the bed beside me. He sat down, and I got up to fetch him a towel. He took it absently and began to dry his hair with it, taking no thought of his nudity. That was okay with me. "Looks like you picked the right side," I offered. He looked at me. Well, it hadn't been a question. Then the television started to run some stock footage that had been taken earlier of prisoners being herded out of the desert and into P.O.W. camps. There was a seven-second shot of me escorting Ali down the highway. Forty looked at me. "You," he said. Well, at least he spoke English. "Yes," I answered, "and Ali..." I couldn't take my eyes off the screen. I had expected my first dose of reality to come in Riyadh... but I hadn't expected to get it from television. I got my second dose from Jerry, and it hit me like a cold shower. All of my promises were worthless. My men would be repatriated just like the rest, once the war was over. And at the rate the allied forces were advancing on Baghdad, that might be any hour now. Jerry told me, in effect, not to get attached to my prisoners. I thanked him for his advice. I only wished that he had given it to me about four days before. I stumbled from his office and found my way back to the truck. I forced myself to smile at my group, but I think they saw through me. They mounted the truck again, though, and Ali slid up into the cab beside me. "What's wrong, Larry?" he asked. I couldn't bring myself to tell him the truth. "Lawyers..." I said and left it at that. "I'm tired, Ali. How much money do we have left?" He counted it, and I realized we had enough for ten rooms at the motel. I had left Forty there to relax a little while I returned to Riyadh to take care of business. I figured my men could use one night of relative luxury. I started the truck. There was a pounding on the roof of the cab, and Twenty-one leaned over and informed us that we were missing one man. I told him I was aware of that, and that Forty was at the motel waiting for us, but he said he knew about Forty and that the missing man was Five. I shut the truck off. "Okay," I said, "where's Five?" "He went away with Winston," Ali confessed. "He was supposed to be back by now." "You mean that guy at the reception?" "That's the one, Boss," Twenty-one said through the window beside me. "Do you guys realize the situation that puts us in?" "It'll be all right, Larry," Ali tried to soothe me. But I would not be soothed. "Why did you let him go?" I demanded. "What were you thinking of?" "We couldn't stop him," Ali snapped back. "Sure you could have. Five respects you, Ali..." "I was talking about Winston. We couldn't stop him. If they hadn't gone away together, they would have been having sex under the table. We figured it would be better to get them away from there. Winston promised to bring him back. They should have been here by now." It was getting late. We couldn't wait much longer. But no one wanted to leave Five behind. At long last, though, we had no choice, and I started the truck again. I was turning it around when the jeep pulled up and blockaded me. Five jumped out of the jeep and onto the truck's front bumper. He climbed across the hood, hopped onto the roof, and down into the box behind us. The jeep left quickly, but not before I noticed that it was one of the V.I.P. vehicles, and the man driving it had not been wearing a uniform. His hair had been blond. When it became obvious that I was not going to wait for the driver, Twenty-one climbed down and into the cab alongside Ali. "What's up?" he asked. "It looks like we're going to have to go back to Iraq," Ali said quietly. I looked at him. He reached up and pushed my jaw shut. "Where'd you get an idea like that?" I asked. "From you, Larry." I couldn't look at him. I glued my eyes to the road. We really did communicate better without words. "It's true then, isn't it?" he asked. "Not yet it isn't," I vowed, but I couldn't say it to his face. I said it to the windshield. "And it won't be if I have anything to say about it," I added, but at that point, none of us believed it. I found the motel again with only a little difficulty. We got a break on the rooms. That night, my men had real beds for the first time in days, but more importantly, they had real showers, some of them, for the first time in a week. Ali, Twenty-one, and I joined Forty in the room I had rented earlier. I let Twenty-one and Ali shower first. Forty was still stuck to the television. He filled me in on the progress of the war, and then I asked him why he had lived in the dumpster. He grinned an embarrassed grin and shook his head. "I was scared," he confessed. "Of me?" I asked. "No... no... yes," he admitted. "Then why did you chase the truck?" "I was more afraid of the others." "What others?" "You know... the Kuwaitis..." "It seems to me like you should have gone back to Iraq, if you were afraid of us and the Kuwaitis..." "Oh, no, I couldn't do that." "Why not?" "Because I deserted four days ago. I've been hiding out ever since." "What? In the dumpster?" "Sometimes..." "Why did you desert?" "Because they made me do things..." "What things?" "Bad things..." "Did they force you to have sex?" "I'd rather not talk about that." I took it as an affirmative. "Is that why you were afraid of me?" "No, I..." Forty sighed. "Yes. Sometimes I looked in the window of the restaurant. I saw you and them." He jerked his head in the direction of the bathroom, indicating Ali and Twenty-one. "I'm sorry. I didn't know." "It wasn't the same, though. They looked happy with you." "I hope so, Forty." He looked at me with a peculiar expression on his face, and I realized that he was probably not familiar with the numbering system. "What's your name, anyway?" "Djamal. You are Larry, yes?" "Yes, that's right." "I heard them talking about you in the truck. They say you are going to make everything all right. Is it true, Larry?" "I wish you hadn't asked me that, Djamal. You'll be all right for a while, anyway. We're going to a P.O.W. camp tomorrow. After the war is over, it's hard to say..." "Larry, the war is over. Your army has stopped. My army has disappeared." "Not all of it," I cautioned. "Ali and I ran into a squad the other night in Kuwait." "Yes, I know. That's one of the reasons I was in the dumpster." "You know?" I was suddenly apprehensive. "How do you know?" "I was in the bedroom with you. The man you attacked was my squad leader. That was the night I deserted him. I figured that if he would have killed Ali, I would probably be next." I must have looked pretty surprised. "Are you angry with me, Larry?" "Why?" "Because I did nothing to help you..." "You didn't have to, Djamal. I had disabled my gun. I knew that it wouldn't work." "Ah, that was it. I thought he just didn't know how to use it. But still, I should have done something before he pulled the trigger. Can you forgive me?" "I'm not the one to ask, Djamal. You should talk with Ali about that." "Yes, of course you are right." "Come to think of it, I should talk to him too," I thought. There were still questions in my mind. They had not been crowded out by the disappointment, only forced to the rear. When Ali reappeared naked from his shower, I handed him his robes and asked him to come for a walk in the desert with me. "What is it, Larry?" he asked as we walked across the parking lot and out into the sand. It was still hot under our naked feet even though the sun had gone down. "What did you find out today?" "I found out that I don't know what's going on," I answered. "I found out that my side isn't really the good guys after all." "Larry, there are no good guys in a war. War brings out the badness in us all, and we are told that it is all right to do things we have been told all our lives were wrong." "You are a philosopher, Ali." "I like to think for myself. I like to think that I control my own destiny by being the person I want to be. But now that doesn't work anymore. My destiny is to be a wog in Iraq, it seems.It was nice to have a little hope for a while. You gave that to me, Larry. Don't be too sad that things didn't turn out the way you thought they would. You did save my life, you know. I owe it to you. And it is yours... "You saved mine too," I interjected. "We're even on that score. And as far as going back to Iraq is concerned, don't pack your things just yet..." "What things? I have nothing, Larry. I gave everything I had away before I went out to blow up the gas and oil. I didn't think I was coming back." I stopped and looked at him. He turned to face me. "What are you looking at me like that for, Larry?" "I'm trying to figure out how to ask you why you would have done that. I know you had your orders..." "I didn't need orders, Larry. When he told me what he had in mind, I volunteered. You have no idea what things were like for me before I met you. Believe me, it was almost a relief to get the chance to kill myself. It was the next step. My life was over anyway." "Tell me," I said. "I want to know everything about you." "No you don't," he answered. "It isn't a very nice story." "It's your story," I argued. "I want to hear it." "All right, but don't say I didn't warn you. I'm a bastard, Larry." This took me a little by surprise. I'd never met one before... except for the kind who are bastards and don't realize it... like Juarez... "Good," I answered, "for a minute there I thought you were going to tell me you were a lawyer." "It's not funny," he said. "In my country it is a disgrace." "But it's no reason to kill yourself..." "That wasn't the reason..." "What was it then?" "I told you, my life was over. I had no hope. And after I had spent my whole life studying to be able to get away to another place where I could use what I learned without people pointing at me and calling me bad names, my country goes to war and all of a sudden I am a pariah in the eyes of the world as well as in my homeland. You must understand, Larry, until I met you I had no hope. I wanted to die. Now I have something to live for... someone to love... someone who loves me... I hope." "Of course I love you, Ali. I love the person you are, not what you came from. You were sent to me by God, I think." "I'm sorry, Larry, but I don't believe in God. He would have to be a very hard god to let the things that have happened here happen." "To tell you the truth, Ali, I'm with you on that score. I've found that religions are mostly political, otherwise there wouldn't be so many of them. We have enough disagreements without fanning the flames of fanaticism. But I have to believe that something brought us together... other than Juarez." Ali sneered at the mention of his name. "You found me, Larry, exactly when I needed you. For this I owe you my life." "I found you exactly when I needed you," I countered. "Things hadn't been too good for me up until then, either." I looked into his eyes. They were reflecting the light from the motel sign, which would soon have to be extinguished, just in case there were any Iraqi planes left that could fly. "And I have no intention of losing you. I'll just have to get Jerry to change a few minds." "We'll be okay for a while, Larry. The camp won't be bad. At least we'll be together." "You're right, Ali. And when the war's over, you'll come to the States with me just like we planned. After all, you have Kuwaiti citizenship now. Colonel Hadford looked after that already, remember?" "Do you think they'll accept that?" "They have to. You work for the U.S. Army, Mr. Hussein." "Please don't call me that." "What would you prefer, Ali Baba?" "I told you already. Anything but that..." "Then Ali Baba it is. Come on. Let's get back and see what the forty P.O.W.'s are up to." "Okay, Larry, but first, kiss me." "If I kiss you, I won't be able to stop." "That was the plan." Ali shrugged his robes off his one shoulder and they slid into an elegant pile on the sand. "Are you sure you want to do it out here in the desert? The damned sand gets in everywhere, you know." "I'm willing to chance it if you are. I don't feel like performing for those two in our room." "We could get another room..." "No, I want you now. Kiss me, Lieutenant Larry." "Yessir, Mr. Baba..." My robes joined his on the desert floor.We watched in fascination as Forty tested each bond, and Twenty-one's boxers bulged as he considered his coming conquest. When Forty was satisfied, he ordered Twenty-one to lose the boxers. The desert moon lit the scene as Twenty-one's shorts slipped down, and that wonderful arching erection of his finally popped into view. I glanced at Forty's face to see if he might be reconsidering his folly, but there was nothing in his countenance to suggest surprise or terror or any other emotion, for that matter, other than anticipation. Twenty-one finished removing his underwear, and I felt an involuntary shudder shake Ali's body. I'm pretty sure he was laughing, but he was doing it quietly and keeping it to himself. I, too, found the situation hopelessly humorous, but I wanted to see what would happen. I squeezed Ali's dick to warn him to stop, and he quieted. But Forty had noticed something and jerked his head towards us with a sharp whispered command in Arabic. I closed my eyes and felt the heat from Twenty-one's face as he once again leaned over us to check our breathing. I tightened my grip on Ali's pecker to warn him not to move, lest he lose a very important part of his anatomy. Twenty-one's inspection took longer this time, and he even lifted the covers to try to see where my hand was. I loosened my grip on Ali's member as I felt the sheets rising, and what Twenty-one saw was my hand lying along the curve of Ali's belly just under the elegantly sculptured navel that always drew attention. I guessed at the time that Ali was really getting into it. His body was very warm, almost hot to the touch. I heard an involuntary little gasp and wondered who had made it. But I did not wonder enough to fall for the ploy, if it was one, to make me open my eyes. It had to have been Twenty-one. He lowered the sheets and returned to his bed. I opened my shadowed eye again and made sure that he had indeed finished his inspection. Then I cautiously reattached my hand to Ali's manhood and opened my other eye far enough to see clearly. Twenty-one was sucking Forty. He did not concentrate on one thing in particular, but went wherever his fancy and Forty's whispered commands took him, from nipple to toes, from navel to nuts. Things he couldn't suck, he licked, like the soles of Forty's feet or his knees. The only thing he didn't suck was the one thing most people head for right off the bat. The love-making was being orchestrated, of course, by Forty, who writhed on the bed and strained at his bonds as his attacker devoured him. His rock-hard erection stood straight up from his body and seemed to glow silver in the moonlight, but that was just the way the light struck it. Forty did not have a silver cock, nor did he have a condom. Twenty-one's answering erection slapped at his belly, but if he tried to touch it, there would be a harshly whispered command from Forty, and Twenty-one's hand would let go, causing the thing to spring back against him with a solid slap that probably would have wakened Ali and me if we hadn't already been awake and watching. The more Twenty-one licked and sucked, the less the two of them seemed to care about the noise they were making. They seemed to have forgotten that we were there, so lost were they in the passion of the moment. They weren't the only two who were affected. Ali's penis was also at full alert, and I had to block it with my thumb to keep it away from his belly. Mine was similarly disposed, but firmly planted between Ali's ass cheeks. The harder I got, the further Ali was pushed up in the bed. I know it sounds impossible, but that's what happened, and I was having difficulty seeing past the crown of his head, which had not been in my line of sight when Twenty-one and Forty had started. Forty said something to Twenty-one, and the long lanky Iraqi climbed onto the bed and sat on Forty's face. Well, you know what I mean... He was kneeling with his legs on either side of Forty's chest, and he sort of settled his ass onto Forty's face. We could hear Forty slurping around back there and making it all wet and slippery. In the moonlight, I saw Twenty-one get some strange looks on his face, and he's rubbing Forty's stomach and down through his abdomen to the good stuff, but he still hasn't touched it that I know about. They kept that up for about five minutes, or maybe it was ten. Time acts strangely when you're watching a couple of guys doing what they were doing. All of a sudden, though, Forty tells Twenty-one something, and Twenty-one turns around and sits on the other end. He settles down on Forty like a hen on eggs, slow and easy, and I'm amazed that there isn't more noise, but then Twenty-one starts rocking up and down, and before too long, the noise starts. Forty is moaning, and so is Twenty-one, but now Twenty-one is in total control of everything but his vocal chords. It doesn't take long before we see how stupid Forty can look. He's obviously blowing up a storm inside Twenty-one, and Twenty-one is bopping up and down like crazy, doing him the best he can until Forty gives him the word, and he settles down and pulls off him. Well, he has to go into the bathroom to take care of dumping his juice, and Twenty-one glances over our way to make sure we still haven't been disturbed, then he toddles off with his finger over his asshole, leaving Forty tied up and kind of messy. We can see Forty moving his arms and legs and kind of testing the bonds, waiting for Twenty-one to get back. He doesn't have to wait long. When Twenty-one gets back, his cock is sticking out as stiff as ever, and the first thing he does is untie Forty's feet. Forty says something to him, but Twenty-one is not taking orders anymore. He climbs up from the foot of the bed and lifts Forty's legs up as he comes. Forty complains a little about this, but Twenty-one tells him to shut up, in English, and spits on Forty's ass. He rubs it in with the head of his dick, and then he's fucking him deep and hard. That's when Ali gets up and staggers to the bathroom. This sort of surprises me, not to mention Twenty-one, who looks at me and realizes that I am awake too. He recovered quickly, though, and barely missed a stroke. He's still fucking Forty when he says, "You'd better go take care of him, Boss. It's the pџt,. He ate a lot of it." I found Ali on the toilet. He was green in the gills and sweating profusely. I knelt beside his poor shriveled form as he doubled over with cramps, and his anxious eyes swam, trying to focus on me. "I'll get a doctor..." "Don't... don't leave," he pleaded. "I... Ayee..." There was a twist of pain knotting his face, and I heard him let go. The poor kid was shitting through the eye of a needle. "Larry, I'm dying..." "No, you're not, Ali. You just had some bad food." But I didn't believe what I was saying. I knew enough about food poisoning to know that people did sometimes die from it. "Twenty-one!" "Yah, Boss..." He was standing in the door seconds after I called him. "Get a doctor, man!" I ordered. "I don't care where, or how much it costs." But I was talking to an empty doorway. I heard the door of the motel room close almost before I'd finished. I remember hoping that Twenty-one had remembered to pull on his boxers. "Larry..." Forty called. "What is it, Forty?" "Can you come here a minute?" "Sorry, man, I can't leave Ali. Why don't you come in here." As soon as I said it, I knew the answer, of course. Forty was still tied to the bed by the wrists. He probably still had his boxer shorts around his neck. But there was nothing I could do for him, except hope that Twenty-one got back quickly. "Larry," Ali moaned. "What is it, baby?" "Don't let them bury me here in the sand. Take me home with you." "You aren't going to die, Ali. And nobody is ever going to separate us." The motel door opened, and I heard Twenty-one come in. The light flicked on in the big room, and I heard a strange voice exclaim and begin to speak in Arabic. Twenty-one answered it in English, "No, man, the patient is in the bathroom. This guy is... my date." I don't know what I expected, but I know for sure that it was not what I saw. A familiar dumpy form filled the bathroom door. It was dressed in restaurant whites with the number thirty-seven scribbled on the shirt in marker ink. But he carried a small black bag. "Thirty-seven!" I exclaimed, "You're a doctor?" "I'm a doctor, but my number is Thirty-three... oh shit, I grabbed the wrong shirt! He ate the pџt,, huh?" "Pigged out on it," Twenty-one commented wryly from the other room as he cut the bonds that held Forty. "Well, let me have a look at him." I got up and let Doctor Thirty-three take my place in the crowded lavatory. I sidled over to Twenty-one, who was now anxiously staring through the doorway. "I told him to lay off that stuff," he told me. "Now he's getting ready to meet Allah." "He doesn't believe in God," I answered absently. "Maybe he didn't used to," Twenty-one informed me, "but he does now. That's who he's talking to." "He's praying?" "He has a right to," the doctor interjected. "He's in pretty bad shape. He should be in a hospital, but I don't think he would travel too well. Let's put him back into bed and see what happens. He's young and strong. We'll get some ice and try to cool him off. Who wants to take the first shift?" I lifted him from the toilet and cleaned him as best I could. Then I carried him to our bed as Twenty-one went for the ice. I applied cold towels to him for the rest of the night, and the doctor made the rounds of the other rooms, looking after the other pџt, lovers in our group. None of them had had as much as Ali, evidently. Ali drifted in and out of consciousness throughout the rest of the night and the next day.I stayed there with him and held his hand for all that time, except for a half an hour when things got a little exciting outside, and I had to let Twenty-one take over while I straightened things out with the M.P.'s who arrived with the truck driver we had abandoned in Riyadh the day before. We got to keep the truck, and the M.P.'s took the driver back to headquarters to explain why he had left the vehicle parked with the key in the ignition and forty prisoners of war in the back. It was as the jeep was driving away that I noticed another jeep in the parking lot. It had not been there that morning. I walked over to it and examined it. It was one of the V.I.P. vehicles from Riyadh, and it was still cooling off. Evidently Winston had taken my advice about truck drivers knowing where everything is. I hoped that Five was not a pet lover. Then I remembered that Five would not have had a chance to eat much at the reception. He had been busy being devoured by Winston. The next morning, Ali's fever broke, and I awoke beside him under sheets soaked with his perspiration to find him looking at me. He was very weak, naturally, but he managed a shy smile and an apology for the trouble he had caused me. "You weren't the only one who was sick, Ali." He looked disappointed. "But you were the only one we thought we might lose," I hastened to add, and this seemed to satisfy him. "How about you, Larry?" "I don't like pets..." "I don't either... anymore. What time is it?" I looked at my watch. "Four thirty." "Good," he answered, "at least I haven't held everybody up. Are we still going to the camp today?" "That was supposed to have been yesterday, baby," I soothed. "You've been asleep for a while." "How long?" "A day and a half," Thirty-three answered from the next bed. "Larry has been with you all that time." "You've got a good friend there, Ali," Twenty-one added, lifting himself up on one elbow to peer over the substantial frame of the doctor. "Yes, I know," Ali answered. "He saved my life again." "That was the doctor," I interjected. "No," Thirty-three objected, "that was the will of Allah." "I don't believe in Allah..." "Sheesh!" Twenty-one hissed and fell back into bed. "I don't believe this guy!" "Ali," Thirty-three pressed, "It is very ungrateful for you to say that. What you believe is not important. But it is obvious that Allah has a plan for you. Your life is important only when you see how it affects other people. Do you think that we gave ourselves up to a man with a gun? Do you believe that?" "Why not? It's true," Ali countered. "It is half true," Thirty-three corrected. "We gave ourselves up to a man with a gun and an Iraqi boy who used to be his prisoner, but then became his friend. I am sorry, Larry, but it is true. You were just another soldier until you showed us how you treated Ali. Ali gave you legitimacy in our eyes. You became a man we knew we could trust." "I'll buy that," I said. Then I turned to Ali. "You'd better give up, kid. They heard you praying in the bathroom." That was the first time I got the last word. Ali drifted off to sleep again before he could come up with anything. I went for an early morning walk around six o'clock to dry off in the desert air. At that time of the day, the desert is nice. What I saw in the parking lot disturbed me a little, though. Winston's jeep was still there, but it had been moved to another spot outside a unit that we hadn't rented. Neither Ali nor I had done a head check in the past day and a half, but I was pretty sure I would come up one short if I was to pull a surprise bed check... so I didn't. I got out past the first dune, where Ali and I had made love, and was surprised to find the indentation where his body had been. Usually, the desert takes care of things like that in a relatively short time. The poet in me tried to interpret the desert's hesitancy to cover our tracks as a sign that our love would last, then I caught sight of Five watching me from the top of the next dune. It wasn't Ali's indentation I was looking at. My private moment was over. I was surrounded again. Winston and Abdul joined me moments later. "Nice robes," Winston remarked facetiously. "You must have great pajamas." I smiled wanly. "I sleep in the nude. When did you get here?" I asked. "Yesterday," he answered. "My boss got sick suddenly, and had to take a couple of days off to recuperate. That gave me some free time." "How'd you manage to end up here?" "It's funny you should ask," Winston smiled. "I was on my way to have a look for that camp you told me about, and I took your advice. I asked a group of drivers where the camp was. It turned out that one of them had to go there to pick up a vehicle, and he said he would show me, if I would give him a ride. On the way up, he spotted your truck and said that it was the one he was looking for and it shouldn't be at the motel. Well, we flagged down some M.P.'s and had them check the truck out. I sort of lost track of what was happening, but I guess he left with the M.P.'s. You've obviously still got the truck." "And you've obviously found Abdul." "Hi, Larry." "Hi, Abdul. We'll be leaving around noon." "I'll be ready. How's Ali?" "He's gonna live. Chances are he won't eat any more pets, though." "Ah," Winston brightened, "you seem to have pinned down the problem." They wandered away into the desert and disappeared behind a dune. I hoped that Five knew what he was doing, then I realized that he probably did. He had attached himself to two Americans now. If one of them couldn't keep him out of Iraq, maybe the other one could. I hoped he liked the guy. As far as Winston was concerned, there had never been any doubts about his feelings for Five... er, Abdul. That got me thinking about the demographic composition of the whole group who had turned themselves in to me. Obviously, they were all men... well, men and boys. A lot of them spoke English or another language other than Arabic. The ones who didn't were either very well educated in highly specialized fields, or were still in school when the war robbed them of their chance to learn. Even Ali, who was an outcast, was extremely bright and had educated himself as his needs demanded. A lot of my men were involved in sexual activity with each other. Perhaps this was natural. Perhaps it was because there were no women. Perhaps it was that old Muslim bugaboo that kept the women segregated until marriage. Whatever it was, it brought to mind that joke, in Arab countries, how do you separate the men from the boys? With a crowbar... Ali and I had noticed the intellectual superiority of our group early on. Twenty-one was Ali's favorite sparring partner, a young man just out of university who had brought books with him. Ali coveted the books and borrowed them shamelessly. This led to debates as well as conversations. I was amazed at the range of their interests and their perceptions of those interests. They really out-distanced me, but, hey, that isn't too hard. I guess what I'm getting at is that it wasn't surprising to find this particular group of men wanting to get out of Iraq. They all felt either persecuted or wasted. I was happy that the doc had explained about me not being the one who had drawn them out of hiding. Sure, it had been Ali whose presence with me had encouraged them to join us. That was when it struck me that Ali was the only one who had been captured. Did that make a difference, I wondered? He had had plenty of opportunities to escape. He had even had opportunities to kill me. His love seemed genuine, though. He did not serve me subserviently either. My ass had been reamed by him now as often as his had been reamed by me. But what did the war have to do with it? Were we clutching each other because we were afraid and grasping at the first sympathetic comrade we could find? Was it something else? Was it real? What is reality after all? Most people perceive reality from different starting points. Ali's reality came from Muslim beliefs. Mine was based in Christianity. I had left the religion behind, of course, but I could not leave the concepts. Why, for instance, had I bristled when I had seen our medics in a truck with a red crescent on the side of it instead of a red cross? That sort of thing should mean nothing to an agnostic... but it did. I wondered if I would have prayed if I had eaten the pets. They say there are no atheists in foxholes. I hadn't really been tested on that theory yet, unless you count the incident at the docks in Kuwait. I suppose I could have been killed that day, and Ali and I would have found out together, but I can't recall having been afraid for my life. Until I touched Ali, I had just been doing my job... just trying to survive... Ali's fear of being buried in the sand haunted me. He even wanted to escape if he was dead. I vowed to myself and the rising sun that he would never go back to Iraq. Then I hurried back to the motel room. I had to be with him. And there was no way I would ever let him out of my sight again. We gassed up the truck and headed out at noon... a rather stupid idea now that I think of it, but we got away with it, and my men were used to the sun anyway. Ali lay in the front with his head on Twenty-one's shoulder and his feet curled up in Thirty-three's lap. I had managed to get directions to the camp from Jerry, who was a little ticked to hear that we still had not made it. Jerry didn't sound too good on the phone. He told me he'd had diarrhea for two days and was not feeling well at all. Evidently Jerry also liked pets. I commiserated with him and told him that there had been something going through my men as well. Jerry immediately became suspicious and suggested that it might be a biological warfare weapon that had been used by the Iraqis.I told him that the disease had probably been delivered by the Iraqis, but I suspected that the means of delivery was probably more conventional. I don't know what it is, but whenever I talk to lawyers, I get a charge out of playing with their pumpkins. The camp came into view shortly after one o'clock. It was a hive of activity, although we were the first group to arrive. The engineers were still putting up the fences and topping them with razor wire. Ali lifted himself to a seated position to see over the dash of the truck. The razor wire caught his eye immediately. "Why, Larry?" he asked weakly. "It's standard operational procedure, Ali," I answered. "They don't want anybody sneaking in at night." "Nice tents..." Twenty-one offered. "Are they for us?" "That's the idea," I answered. "Big, huh?" "A hospital!" Thirty-three grinned. "Do you suppose they will have medicines?" "If they don't, we'll order some. Would you mind setting it up, Doc?" The dumpy little man smiled, and I knew that I had found my new family doctor. I liked his bedside manner. I pulled the truck up outside the main gate, and we all climbed down. As I did, I couldn't help noticing the jeep that had stopped well behind us at the top of the hill we had just descended. It looked like a V.I.P. jeep, and the driver seemed to be blond. Five saw it too, and he looked a little worried about it. Chapter Seven Camp Whatchamacallit Doc gave Ali a thorough examination in his new hospital and declared him on the mend. But just to be on the safe side, he hooked him up to an I.V. drip and left him overnight in my care. The hospital beds were comfortable enough, and we had a good night's sleep... for once. The engineers were still working on perimeter projects. All of the facilities inside the wire, as they referred to their fence, were in place. My men watched the engineers work and longed to give them a hand, but the soldiers doing the labor sniffed contemptuously at the offer. That's the trouble with guys who never actually see any action. They're always unable to understand the dynamics of conflict and the relationships that can develop, even between opponents. Everything for these guys was cut and dried... and they were absolutely wrong. They didn't understand me at all. They figured that I should know better. I know that some of them never got over the way I treated my men, but that's okay. They all left the second day we were there anyway. The major who was in charge of the construction of the camp handed over the keys on his way out. His services were needed elsewhere, he informed me, rather superciliously I thought, as if implying that mine weren't. Evidently there were rather more prisoners being taken than had been anticipated, and there were camps to construct further north... a little closer to the action. He left me wondering what action he was talking about. The motel television had been full of pictures of the fleeing Iraqis being picked off by the long guns and smart missiles. They were running away, and our boys were shooting them in the back. There were even one or two instances of our own tanks being struck by friendly fire. Now there's an oxymoron for you. I chucked my uniform and went back to my robes. Already I was sick of war... and I'd only really seen it on television. But I had these prisoners... there was no escape... for them or for me. I don't think that any of them really wanted to escape, mind you. The only true captive in the crowd was me. And I had surrendered to Ali... not the other way around. I had this thought in my mind that first afternoon when I called Jerry back in Riyadh. It was the first of a series of daily calls to argue the case for my men. Yah, they were my men by now. I had managed to accustom myself to the notion that we were a group with a common purpose, but that purpose seemed diametrically opposed to the stated purpose of my country and the other allied nations who had declared war on Iraq after her invasion of Kuwait. Anyway, that's what Jerry told me. Every day it was the same answer, regardless of which tack I took or angle I tried to pursue. My prisoners were going to have to go home. They had done nothing wrong in the eyes of the Iraqi government by being caught by me. Their lives were not in danger. I mentioned Forty's dilemma. He had deserted. Jerry told me a lot of Iraqis had run away. He said that all Forty was guilty of was having a bad sense of direction. I thought his answer was rather glib, and I told him so. That's when he asked me if I had any idea of how many prisoners we were dealing with. I told him I didn't care. I had forty men who had chosen me to go to bat for them, and I intended to give it my best shot. I'll never forget his answer to that. "You'd better change your name to Casey," was all he said. That's when I hung up on him. The day after our arrival, Doc released Ali from the hospital, and I showed him to our quarters. Then I took him on a tour of the camp. He'd already seen the hospital, of course. I showed him the kitchen tent and another one right beside it that had been set up as a recreation area. Then I walked him to the latrine. If he was going back on solid food, I wanted him to know where the toilets were... just in case. The barracks tents were the largest, and each one could accommodate forty men. This was rather a convenient figure. It meant that if others arrived, we would be able to keep our men segregated. For now, though, the men slept wherever they felt like sleeping. I kept the padlock for the main gate locked at all times. It sat on a chair beside my cot where I could keep an eye on it. We hadn't needed locks up until now. The fence was unnecessary. The razor wire was overkill. My men had the run of the place, and there was no need to tell them not to run away. We were all in this together. I did do a bed check though, just so we'd know when Winston was in the area. I didn't give Five a hard time for sneaking out for liaisons. I reasoned that a friendly ear in Washington might not be a bad idea, and Winston's boss was due to return there within days. Finally, our first full day at the camp was over, and Ali and I retired for the night... at least, I had assumed that was what we were doing. Ali had other ideas. He was feeling frisky. I welcomed his recovery and asked him what he had in mind. He looked at me strangely and bit his lower lip as he reached into his robes and produced several packages of gauze bandage rolls. "You were watching those two idiots the other night," I laughed. "I hope you aren't serious about this. There's no way I'm letting you tie me up." He handed me the bandages and cast his eyes down at our feet. Evidently, he had stopped speaking again. I was getting the idea though. We were about to play a bondage game, and Ali was waiting for me to start giving him orders. I threw the bandages onto his cot and stepped behind him. He didn't move as I circled him and stared at him from every conceivable angle. His eyes remained downcast, his manner subservient. I touched his robes and pulled them towards me. He flinched a little but didn't retreat, so I loosened them and let them drop around his naked feet. His penis was flaccid, and his testicles were slung low in their sack. I had never known Ali to exhibit this kind of control before. He seemed to be actually living the part of a frightened young man facing his first unsolicited experience with a man who would be his captor. I touched the skin of his arm and felt him almost cringe away from me. It frightened me to think that this was the same playful boy who had taken my virginity. He played the part so well. It really turned me on to meet this other side of Ali. Could it be another personality? I'd heard of that, of course. Like most people, I hadn't believed a bit of it... until now... I grasped his shoulders, but he still refused to raise his eyes, so I did it for him, lifting his chin with my right hand. His eyes were closed, but his left cheek was stained with the trail of a tear that had made its way to his chin. As I watched, another tear followed it. Whatever he was doing, he was living the part beautifully. "Open your eyes," I ordered and was surprised by the hard edge that my voice had. He trembled and complied, but as his eyes opened, two more tears coursed down his cheeks, and he started to worry me. I stepped around him again and paused behind him. If he was going to play a scared kid, I would give him something to be scared about. I touched my index finger to the base of his neck and traced his spine down to his tailbone. I paused there with my finger at the top of his ass crack and felt him shiver. I knew that he wasn't cold. We were both perspiring from the heat. I inched down through his fleshy ass cheeks and felt his muscles tighten, trapping my finger... preventing its passage. "Relax!" It was an order. I heard him draw a short breath of air and knew that he would probably not obey me right away. My finger remained trapped. It was not in my nature to hurt anyone... especially Ali. There was no way I would be able to bring myself to physically attack him, either in reality or in whatever this was that he had dreamed up for us. I'm sure he knew that. But just the same, this was not Ali. This was a creation of Ali. This was his "what if" character, his alter ego come to life. He was forcing me to create an opposite number, a ying to his yang, a night to his day. I warned him again and I think I added a time limit. It must have expired, because I pulled my finger roughly from his ass and spun him around to face me. I raised my hand as if to strike him, and he winced in anticipation and squeezed his eyes shut. I'd had no intention of hitting him.I grasped his shoulders and held them tightly as I looked down his naked body, and my eyes came to rest finally on his Arab boy feet. I had seen his feet every day for the past week. I had kissed them. I had sucked his toes. But I had never really noticed them. They were at once ugly and elegant. Several nails were chipped and broken. The toes were big and clunky, not in keeping with the rest of the body, which was lithe and cat-like, but at the same time the feet were compact and the toes were even, none of them either too far ahead or too far behind its neighbors. The feet themselves were thick, while the instep did not rise far enough to fail to leave its imprint in the sand. These were feet that had evolved for one purpose: walking in the desert. He must have wondered what I was doing, because he opened his eyes and followed my gaze downward. When he saw what I was looking at, he lifted one foot and tried to cover the other with it. I shook him until he felt his balance go and staggered back onto two feet again, but his toes began to curl to try to hide themselves. I raised my eyes and found his navel. Again, I used my finger to trace its bumps and indentations, but as I did, I felt his body begin to convulse silently as he started to cry in earnest. I wanted to hug him and hold him until the tears were gone, but I owed him his fantasy... I pulled him roughly to the cot that was to be his. I forced him down onto it, although he put up a struggle. I straddled him to keep him there while I unrolled the gauze bandages and wrapped his right wrist. Tears were streaming from his eyes as I finished attaching him to the cot. I know it was hard for him to see me as I undressed, but he watched, and strained at his bonds all the while as I revealed myself and my intentions. I was rock-hard, and he knew damned well where I was going to put that thing. It was going into every orifice that was large enough or could be stretched large enough to take it. Except, of course, that I couldn't do it. Regardless of his true feelings for me, to take him that way would have been rape. I hated to disappoint him, but even though I wanted to live with Ali and share my life and my worldly goods (what there was left) with him, even though I wanted to give him what he wanted, I had to remember that I would also have to live with myself. Agnostic though I was, there were still things in the Bible that made sense. I suppose that they are in the Koran too. I couldn't escape the notions that had been bred into me. You just don't do that. I slumped to the floor of the tent at the foot of the cot with one of those beautiful clunky feet of Ali's on either side of my head and tried to think of a way of explaining to him what he would undoubtedly want to know. "It's all right, Larry," he said eventually. "Why were you crying, then?" I asked, but I still couldn't bring myself to look at him. "Because you scared me." "I thought you wanted me to scare you." "I did... you did a good job." "I don't want to hurt you." "I know. I guess I've always known that." "Always is a long time, Ali. We've only known each other for a week." "Then I'm a week old, Larry. There was nothing before you." I reached up and grasped his left foot and kissed it. The tent was quiet for a while. I kissed the right one too. "You really should move up to this end," he advised. "I'm not sure, but I think it tastes better." "Your feet taste all right," I told him. "They might taste okay, but they're ugly. Come up here please, Larry. You're embarrassing me." I crawled to the head of the cot and sat facing away from him. "Are you going to untie me?" "No." "What, never?" "Well, not for a little while." "Why not?" "I don't want you to escape. You are still my prisoner. I have the right to restrain you." "I thought you said you didn't want to hurt me." "I don't. Tell me something, Ali. Are you ticklish?" "No." He said it too fast. "That's good," I smiled and got up. I loomed over him, and he knew what was coming. "Larry..." "You won't mind if I find out for myself, then." "Larry... don't..." "Excuse me, Ali," I grinned maniacally, "I've always heard that it's a good plan to start at the bottom and work your way up." I went to the foot of the cot and started on the soles of his feet. He was stoic about it. He didn't kick or anything. For a while there, I thought he might have been telling the truth... but just for a while. It didn't last. By the time I'd made my way up to his armpits, he had turned to jelly and was shaking helplessly with laughter as he screamed for help from anybody. I think the tent door opened at one point. It was probably Twenty-one who came to Ali's assistance. It usually was. If it was, he didn't come in. The tears were streaming down his cheeks again when I finally let up on him. I licked the tears away and kissed him. He responded, pushing his tongue into my mouth. Our teeth collided. This started us laughing again. I worked my way down his still bound body, licking and sucking everything in sight and fondling him as I went. He exploded into my mouth almost as soon as I swallowed his cock. This was all right. I still wasn't finished, and neither was he. Ali was always good for at least two and sometimes three rounds in one session. I finally made it back to his feet. I spent a while there lavishing attention on them and washing them with my tongue. The desert air dried them quickly. I untied them and crawled up between them until I was once again face to face with him. He kissed me and asked me to fuck him. It was all right now. The bonds did not matter anymore. I left his hands tied, though, so that he would still feel helpless even while his legs wrapped themselves around me and spurred me on to more frenzied love-making. I wanted to see if I could make him come without touching himself. I lifted his legs over my shoulders and laid into him, driving him further and further up in the cot until his head was dangling over the edge. I rammed him harder as I heard him beginning to moan and saw him getting that stupid look on his face... well, what I could see of his face. I glanced down in time to see him shoot a wad of jism onto his belly. This triggered me, and I unloaded within him as he squeezed me with his legs that were now about my neck and threatening to strangle me. Eventually, we both relaxed and slumped onto the cot side by side, gasping. I pulled him back to a more comfortable position, one where he could breathe again, anyway, and we laid there side by side, inhaling each other's fragrances... I guess I should say odors. I did eventually untie his wrists, but not until I had once again devoured every inch of him and licked him clean. We slept together in my cot that night. His was soaking wet, of course. "Larry?" Ali said sometime in the night. "Hmmm?" "What did they name this place?" "They didn't. They just built it and left. They were a mindless bunch of jerks. Names weren't important to them." "Shouldn't it have a name?" "I suppose it should. We'll have to have something to put on the postcards. How about Camp Ali?" "Get serious." "I was." "Forget that. It should be named after somebody or something important, shouldn't it?" "You're important..." "Only to you. I meant somebody or something everybody knows." "How about Camp Onion Ass?" "How about getting serious? We could call it Camp St Laurent." "No way... I thought you didn't like that name." "I'm getting used to it." "Well, forget it. Why does it have to be named after somebody anyway? Why not name it after something we all know?" "Why don't you name it after one of those things with treads and tires. You know the things that look like they were put together by two different people..." "You mean a tank?" "No, it's like a tank, but it's like a truck too... You've seen them... you know what I'm talking about..." I did know, of course, it's called a half-track, but I couldn't come up with the name of the thing that night to save my life. All I could think to call it was a whatchamacallit. That's what we ended up naming the camp. But it seemed to fit, somehow. It almost sounded like a boys' camp. All we needed was a lake and some canoes. Life seemed good there. My men had the run of the place, and they took pride in keeping it ship-shape and spotless while I continued my brain-storming sessions and my daily calls to pester Jerry. Two days later, we took the truck and went on a field trip. Our money was getting low after the two nights at the motel and the meals that went with them, but we had a picnic lunch from the camp and enough money to fill the truck with gas. We took a trip to the gulf to visit the beach. It reminded me of Fire Island, except it was a lot hotter. I carried Ali down to the water and threw him in, robes and all. The oil had not made it down that far yet... I'm not sure if it ever did... but the water was warm, and I dived into it after him. The rest of the men seemed restrained and hesitant, but they all eventually ended up at least puddling in the surf. They had spent all of their time working and trying to keep me happy. I guessed that they had sort of forgotten how to enjoy themselves. At least that's what I thought until Twenty-one told me about the jellyfish that had been reported in the area. We were driving home, and everybody seemed relaxed and happy. I heard the men in back begin to sing "Mairsey Doats and Doesy Doats," and I knew that all was well. This would be the night that Jerry would have to knuckle under and find a loophole for my men. The truck crested the ridge above Camp Whatchamacallit, and my spirits sank. There was a whole platoon of soldiers there. They had guns and a bus full of extremely unhappy-looking Iraqi prisoners of war. But that wasn't what bothered me. "Oh shit!""Ali said. He spoke for the both of us. Juarez was pacing in front of the gate... the gate I had locked for the first time since the engineers left. He looked pissed. Something looked different about him too. It took me a second to figure it out, and when I did, I knew that we were all in trouble. "The goddamn fools promoted him Major. Ali, get lost." Ali ducked down beneath the dash as I pulled the truck up behind the bus. I got down and headed straight for Juarez and saluted him. "Where the fuck have you been?" he screamed. "Right where they told me to go, sir," I answered. I unlocked the gate. "What have you done with your prisoners?" he demanded. "I took them with me, of course." "Where?" "Why, east, sir. Those were my orders, weren't they?" "What orders?" "The message that came in on the radio, sir... about the nerve gas..." "What nerve gas?" "I'm not sure, sir. All they told me was to evacuate because they had a suspected gas incident and the wind was carrying it in our direction. They told me to get everybody out and wait for the all clear." "Who told you? We didn't hear that." "It was the Saudis, sir. We monitor their channels too... er, at least my translator does. May I bring my men back in now, sir? We'd sort of like to get a meal started." He looked at my robes. "Have you gone native or something?" he asked. "Sorry, sir, but this was what I was wearing when the call came. We left in a hurry. I didn't have time to change." "Well, do it now. And report to my office in fifteen minutes." He jerked his head at the gate and told me to go ahead. Then he ordered his men to unload his prisoners. He had another forty in the bus. My boys scurried in and moved their stuff into the best tent, the one nearest the kitchen and furthest from the latrines. Ali managed to hide himself in the middle of the group and waited for me at the hospital with doc. There was a marked difference in the attitudes of the two groups of P.O.W.s. Mine were relaxed and smiling. Juarez's group were sullen and dirty. It might have been the bus ride that did it to them, or possibly they were true captives who really didn't want to be there. I never did find out. My men segregated themselves from the others. Juarez's order to keep the two groups of prisoners apart was completely unnecessary. I changed and went to see Juarez. What he had to tell me really ruined my day, although it seemed to make him happy. We would all be going home soon. I asked him who he meant when he said "all" and he replied that he meant everybody. "You, me, the frogs, everybody..." "Do you mean the wogs, sir?" "Huh?" "You said 'frogs', sir. Frogs are French people. The Iraqis are the wogs... er, this time." "Yah, them too." "They're going home, sir?" "Yes, Lieutenant, they're going home. The deal was cut on the third... two days ago." "But what about the war, sir?" "The war is over, Lieutenant. I'm amazed that your Saudi friends didn't tell you." "I've been a little busy, sir. I hadn't noticed. I just assumed that we would finish what we started." I'm not really sure what Juarez said after that. I only knew that there was nothing but trouble ahead for my men. I saluted the idiot and went to the hospital to see Ali and the Doc. Twenty-one was there too. I gave them all the bad news. They took it better than I had. "When?" Ali said finally. "I don't know," I answered. "I guess whenever they get us some transportation. The new guys probably know already. None of them looked too happy." "Yah," he said. "I guess we should tell our boys." He walked away purposefully. I stopped him. "No, Ali. That's my job. I'll tell them tonight after dinner. I don't want any of you guys to say anything. Just round them up in their tent at 1800 hours." I owed them that much. I left the hospital and returned to our quarters to call Jerry one last time. Jerry was getting sick and tired of hearing from me. I could tell by the way he screamed. He didn't give me a chance to get a word in edgewise. "Look, Larry, I've told you all week long, there's nothing you can do. They are Iraqis. Nobody in his right mind is going to take an Iraqi into their country, let alone forty of them. Do you have any idea how the people would feel about that? They'd hang any politician that even suggested it. Now read my lips. They go back to Iraq. There's no place else for them. Everybody else is against them. Iraq has no friends...except you... and Jordan." "Who's Jordan?" "Not who... what." "What?" "The country, Larry, the country... Jordan is the only country that didn't get into this little shindig." "Jordan?" "Yes, Larry, Jordan. They've been acting as a sort of a mouthpiece for Hussein, you know, telling the world his side of the story..." "I thought that was being done by the television crews." Jerry's laugh was sardonic. But then he seemed to lose his bite. "I wish there was something I could do for you, Larry. But you've got to be a big boy about this. Sometimes things just don't work out. It's like falling in love. Sometimes only one person falls in love. It hurts to find out that you can't have the one person you love the most, because they don't love you." I knew that Jerry was speaking from experience. Well, I knew Jerry... I don't suppose he knew how close his cock-eyed analogy was to hitting home. But still, he'd given me an idea. As it turned out it wasn't a very good idea. At least it didn't seem like a very good idea when it blew up in my face, but... There I go again. I'm getting ahead of myself. "Jerry, does the United States have an embassy in Jordan?" "I think so, Larry, why?" "Nothin', I was just trying to think about where I might be able to see the guys again... you know, after the war?" "Forget 'em, Larry. They won't even know who you are ten days from now. And you've got bigger problems. Remember that club of yours in New York. If it doesn't start to turn a profit, you're going to lose it, just like the guy who lost it to you." "He lost it in a poker game. I won that place." "And all the Accounts Payable too if I recall correctly. He was trying to lose. He wanted out. You didn't win anything. I'm your Lawyer, Larry, remember?" "You're also the guy who talked me into becoming a reservist. I wouldn't be in this mess now if I hadn't listened to you." "But you have to admit that the money you made in the reserves is the only reason you've been able to keep that place open and eat too. Don't be coy with me, Larry. This little war came along just when you needed it. If it hadn't been for Mr. Hussein, you'd have lost the club by now. Now, thanks to being over here full-time, you might even be able to make a go of it... but you can't afford to go flying off to Jordan to have a reunion with a bunch of guys who won't even bother to show up." "You're wrong there, Jerry. You don't know these guys..." "I know you though, Larry, and I know what you can afford and what you can't. Now, my advice to you is put those guys on the next bus out to Baghdad." Have I told you that I hate lawyers? I called Rawlings in to my tent and asked him to get the keys for the bus and gas it up. Then I got my maps out. Chapter Eight Goin' Over Jordan When Rawlings got back with the bus, I invited him into my tent and asked him what the hell had been happening since I'd last seen them. Rawlings was wearing my stripes, I had made it to Juarez's old rank, and Juarez had jumped to Major. None of these promotions seemed to have been inspired or deserved. I was wondering what Juarez had done to make Major. "He saved the oil from being blown up, sir," Rawlings explained. "Leastways that's what he told them reporters. I guess the brass had to acknowledge that after the thing hit the television." "You mean he told them he stopped Al... that kid from setting the oil off?" "That's right, sir," Rawlings smiled. "Only by the time he told them about it, that kid was a six foot commando threatening to blow the place with a hand grenade. He evidently done hand to hand combat to stop him." "That son of a bitch!" "By that you would mean the Major, sir?" "Precisely." "I agree, sir." Ali picked this time to return to the tent. Rawlings eyed him suspiciously, especially when he threw himself onto his cot and seemed to fall asleep. He'd had a hard day at the beach. "Pardon me, sir, but isn't that the wog from the docks?" "Hmm? Oh, you mean the six foot commando? No, he's dead... he was shot by an Iraqi soldier that night. This fellow looks a lot like him, but he's my Kuwaiti translator. His name is Ali... Ali Baba." Ali lifted his head and smiled at Rawlings. "Us Arabs all look alike," he said, then dropped back onto the pillow. Rawlings left confused. This was a natural state of mind for him. As soon as he'd gone, Ali was up on one elbow. "You're up to something," he said. "What makes you say that?" I asked. "Those maps, for one thing... sending soldier boy there to gas up the bus for another... What are you up to, Larry?" "I don't suppose you would believe me if I told you that I really don't know yet?" "I don't know. Why don't you try me?" "All right," I said, putting down my calipers and turning to face him. I put on my most honest and earnest expression. "I really don't know yet, Ali." He looked at me and I saw his brow furrow. His head nodded a couple of times. "You were right. I don't believe you," he said. "Do you have any idea how far one of those buses can go on a full tank?" I asked. "How far do you want to go, Larry?" "I was thinking about a trip to Amman." "Jordan? Why?" "Because, as I see it, Jordan is the only other place where we might be welcome. I thought it might be worth a try. Once things quieted down we could make a try for the States. At least in Jordan you would be free men." "But you wouldn't, Larry.""Only if they caught me," I reasoned. "They'd catch you, Larry. You're not that good without somebody like me looking after you. Your life would be ruined." "I was just talking to my lawyer, Ali. He just finished pointing out to me that I don't have a whole lot to lose. I could stay in Jordan with you. We ought to be able to sell the bus. If not, we can convert it into a recreation vehicle and live in it. What do you think?" "I think you've been out in the sun too long." He smiled. "I guess you were telling the truth about not knowing what you're doing." He laid back on his bed. "Let me know when you do come up with a plan." He rolled over and buried his face in the pillow. It was disconcerting to say the least. Ali should have been more enthusiastic. There were no other alternatives. I had exhausted them all with Jerry on the phone. Of course it was risky. We would have to cross the Nefud desert to reach Jordan without going into Iraq. I didn't know how the bus would hold up to a trip of that length, through terrain that was at best unpredictable and at worst impassable. The chances were that the bus would not make the trip in a straight line the way I had drawn it on the map. The chances of finding fuel on the desert were even worse. We would probably end up on foot. But even with all these problems facing us, I had expected a more positive response from Ali. It was so completely unlike him that I had to start thinking along another line to understand why he didn't want me to take them to Jordan. In the end, it was really very simple. He didn't want me to get into trouble. At 1800 hours, I walked into the barracks tent and asked the men to gather round. They were all waiting with expectant faces. They had been told that I was coming with news. They were afraid it might not be good. They had reason to fear. I laid it on the line for them and let them know that the repatriation would begin very soon. It was quiet in the tent except for my voice and Ali's translation. I told them that I had done my best for them, but that the prisoner exchange program had been agreed to on March third and there was nothing we could do about it. I looked at Ali. Then I started telling them about Jordan. He wouldn't translate. The men who spoke English looked at him and wondered why he had stopped. I asked for another volunteer. Twenty-one stepped forward, but he wasn't speaking Arabic. He was talking to me in English. "Boss, that's the dumbest idea we've ever heard," he said. "They'd send you to prison for the rest of your life." "Don't worry about me," I said. "I'll be all right." I then went on to explain the advantages of the flight to Jordan and ended with a promise that I would personally sponsor each and every one of them into the States as soon as I could make the arrangements back home. "You mean after you get out of jail," Ali sneered. "Will you let me worry about that?" I said. "Ali," the Doc said, "Do you not remember what I told you about your life having a purpose? Do you not think that Larry's could also have one?" "Yeah, sure," Ali answered. "Breaking rocks at Sing Song..." "That's Sing Sing," I corrected... then wondered why I had bothered. "But perhaps this is his purpose. Would you deny him the opportunity to fulfill it?" "Nothing personal, Doc," Ali answered, "but how long do you think you'd survive on the desert if the bus did break down?" "I might die," the Doc returned. "But at least I would die trying for a better life. Have you been away from your homeland so long that you have forgotten what it is like to live in a land where you can be killed because you learned too much? Or perhaps that was not a problem for you." Ali shot a look at the Doc that would have killed if looks could. But he kept his tongue still. "Tell me now, Ali, have you forgotten how you pleaded with Larry to take your body home with him if you died. Why would a Kuwaiti do that?" Ali stormed from the tent. Doc turned his sights on Twenty-one. "Does your mother know about the games you like to play?" he asked. Twenty-one shrank back onto the cot behind him. Five stood up. "When do we leave, Larry?" Evidently Abdul figured the Doc would get to him next. "It'll have to be tonight," I said. "We're going to need a distraction around midnight as far away from the main gate as possible." I heard Twenty-one's voice begin to translate. I found Ali in our tent which was just outside the compound. He looked sullen. I smiled at him. "I'm sorry, Larry," he said. "The Doc was right. I was only thinking of myself. I hadn't even thought about you or the rest of the guys. I just didn't want to blow my chance of going home with you." "You don't have to come with us, Ali. But I wouldn't stay here either if I were you. Why don't you hitch a ride into Riyadh and go see Jerry. I'll give you a note for him and tell him to look after you until I get back..." "Who are you trying to kid? You won't be coming back..." He shook his head. "I hitched my wagon to a falling star, didn't I, Larry?" I couldn't answer that. My life had been a series of ups and downs. Sometimes I felt like a toilet seat at a mixed party. Most days, when I wake up, I have to check my bank book to know if it's worthwhile getting out of bed. I smiled at him again. If we did stick together, the kid was in for a bumpy ride. "One way or another, Ali, I'll be back," I said. "I promised you that we'd be together, and I don't break my promises. But I made a promise to those other guys too. I can't just forget about that. They need me now. They need me tonight. There's no telling when the bus will arrive to take them back to Baghdad. Tomorrow might be too late for them. You can see that, can't you? You'll be safe with Jerry. You have your i.d. But... god, I'm gonna miss you." "I don't believe in God..." He was in my arms. "So you keep saying..." His breath was hot and wet on my shoulder. His body was convulsing with sobs... but so was mine. I couldn't believe that we were saying goodbye. I don't think that he could either. We both knew the chances of me getting back across the Nefud... that is if I made it to Amman in the first place. I parked him on his cot and sat down to write the letter to Jerry. In it I assigned my wages to Ali and gave him power of attorney on my bank account. I asked him to look after the young man and take him to the States, if possible. I pointed out that he had Kuwaiti citizenship and had served me well during his time in my employ. I supposed that we should have a witness. There was one at the main gate. He was guarding it. I took the letter out and Rawlings signed it for me. I guessed that would satisfy Jerry. I put the letter into our knapsack along with the rest of our money and a fresh change of underwear. "Give me your hand," I said as he prepared to depart. "Which one do you want?" he sniffed. "The left one..." He held his hand out and I clasped it. Then before he could protest, I slipped my watch over our hands and onto his wrist. My father had given me that watch. Ali had always admired it. He hugged me and I kissed him deeply in the privacy of our tent, then to make the story stand up, I pushed him through the door of the tent and onto his ass in front of Rawlings. "Filthy little wog! Get the fuck out of here! If I ever see you around here again, I'll turn you over to the Iraqi's. I hear they like boys like you!" The look of shock on Ali's face was real. The shame was real too, but it would wear off. He pulled himself to his feet and scurried up the hill. I hated myself. And I wondered if I would ever see him again. "Trouble, sir?" Rawlings asked, stepping away from his post. "The little son of a bitch tried to blow me," I said, watching the white robes fade into the darkness. "Filthy little wog..." Rawlings agreed. He returned to his post and I went back into my tent... and bawled like a baby. Doc worked a miracle at midnight. Twenty-one delivered it. The forty sleeping Iraqi's in the tent by the latrines gave us our distraction. They thought they were being gassed. In reality, they were... but it was not nerve gas that the Doc had concocted, it was a stink bomb, and good old Twenty-one lobbed it right into the middle of their tent. The confusion and screaming woke the soldiers who were rushed in by Juarez. He himself led the charge and directed the men while I took over guard duty at the gate. I counted forty naked bodies as they streaked past, then I closed the gate and fixed the lock in place. That in itself wouldn't hold them long, but the wad of gum I had worked into the keyhole might give us an extra minute or two. The men were naked because I had been able to see Ali's robes a long way off. Since my men all wore whites, there was a good chance that they too would have been seen whereas their tans wouldn't. They dressed on the bus, which was parked at the top of the hill. I released the emergency brake and coasted backwards until the camp was out of sight. Then I started her up. She was awfully noisy. "Sound off," I called when we were finally on the highway. "One," One answered. "Two," Two shouted... well, you get the idea. With the lights off, it was hard to be sure we had everybody. I listened to the men. They knew the order by now. I was relieved to hear each voice in turn and felt good when Forty said, "Forty." "Forty-one," a familiar voice breathed into my right ear. If there had been a ditch, we would have been in it. "Ali!" "Does this bus go all the way to New York?" he asked. "What the hell are you doing here?" "You can't keep a good wog down. You'd be lost without me, Larry." He was right, of course. But that didn't stop me from being upset. "I wanted you to be safe." "I feel safe whenever I'm with you, Larry.""I don't want to be anywhere except where you are." "You're crazy, you know?" "Uh-huh." "We probably won't make it." "So what? We'll be together. That's the main thing. Turn left here." "Twenty-one's navigating." "I know a shortcut. Left... here... You're not the only one who knows maps." "But there's no road, Ali." "There will be... left, Larry." I turned left and we bumped out across a hard level plain. Ali reached over and switched off the lights. There was a crescent moon and a billion stars. It was enough to see by. Hell, there wasn't a road anyway, just a direction. About an hour after we had turned off the highway, Ali's promised road appeared. But Ali was at the back of the bus then, watching for signs of pursuit. We bumped onto the road and picked up speed. I can only piece together what happened back at Camp Whatchamacallit from conversations I had later with Rawlings and some of the other men. There was a lot of confusion, of course, but that was the way we had planned it. The other group of Iraqi prisoners really and truly believed that they were going to die. That's one of the side effects of propaganda. A small area of your brain is filled with information that you can't get rid of. It's sort of like a television commercial. No matter how stupid the jingle is, you remember it when you see the product. You don't think about it all the time, but when something triggers it, the effect is immediate, and with gas, the terror is complete. Some of those men were hurt in the stampede to get out of there. We didn't want that to happen... but it did. Juarez's men pulled on their masks as soon as they got a whiff. This made it more difficult for them to see, and naturally they were a little nervous, especially when forty Iraqi prisoners of war came at them trying to get their masks. We hadn't thought about that. What saved the day was a rather smallish Iraqi P.O.W. who had been trampled in the crowd. His cries for help somehow managed to make it through the other noise, and Rawlings heard him. He ran into the tent and picked the guy up and carried him to the hospital. That made everybody stop and think. Surely, if the gas had been poisonous, the Iraqi would have been dead. He'd been exposed to it the longest. Everybody seemed to calm down a little, and Juarez sent for Doc to come and have a look at the injured men. That was when the shit hit the fan. The soldier reported back that Doc was gone. He also mentioned that the entire tent seemed to be empty. Juarez immediately smelled a rat. I'll give him that... he knew what they smelled like. When they got to the gate and tried their key, they discovered my gum stash. This caused Juarez to lose his cool, and he grabbed one of the guns to shoot the lock off. I don't know if you've ever tried to shoot something as unsteady as a lock hanging off a gate, but let me tell you it isn't as easy as it looks. The first bullet grazed the lock and ricocheted through the windshield of Juarez's jeep. This made him really mad, and he ordered somebody to hold the lock steady, but fortunately for the rest of the men, they were no longer attending. They knew that the war was over and they did not want to take a bullet regardless of whose gun it might have come from, or what it might have passed through or bounced off previously. It took Juarez three more rounds before the lock surrendered. By this time, however, the bus was booting across the plain in what we thought was a south-west direction, and one of the three jeeps had a flat tire. We had a good start on them. That didn't stop Juarez from giving chase. He hopped into his jeep and yelled an order. The other jeep quickly filled and set out in the night to follow him. The remaining men herded the Iraqis into the tent my men had vacated earlier. Then they tried to find another lock for the gate. We stopped the bus at sunrise in the shelter of a huge rock face. Our plan was simple. We would drive in the dark and try to find someplace to hide during the day. We laid our maps out on a ledge of rock and tried to agree on where we were. There were as many different opinions as there were people. We got a clue from the sun. It was still coming up in the east and going down in the west, so we decided to watch where it went and follow it. There was water at our rest stop, and we refilled our bottles and topped the radiator of the bus. But it wasn't water I was worried about. We had two more days of travel ahead of us, and the fuel gauge was already down to half. I must have looked worried because Ali asked me what the problem was. "To be absolutely honest," I told him, "we're running out of gas." "Is that all?" he grinned. "That's everything!" I said. "Without gas we'll be stuck in the desert. We have absolutely no idea where we are and we don't know what we're going to run into out there." "Relax, Larry," he said, taking my hand and guiding me to the side of the bus. He pulled the luggage hatch open and lifted it. "Will these help?" There were four petrol cans tied into the cavity. They were full too. "Where the hell did you get those?" "One came from the truck. The other three were in the jeeps. I didn't think you would think to take them. You were too busy trying to figure out where you were going." "But how did you get them?" "Very quietly... I came back after you threw me out." "That was a risky thing to do, Ali. Those robes of yours reflect the light." "I didn't wear them." "Great minds think alike." I kissed him. "Please, Larry, not in front of the men..." We topped the gas tank and still had spare fuel. I led Ali to the shade of the rocks and we found a place where we could sleep the day away. Soon he was breathing shallow regular breaths that told me he was asleep. His head was on my chest, and I thanked God that he was back with me. Yah, I prayed. Wouldn't you? I guess it was about then that Juarez and his men were parking at the top of a bluff that overlooked the desert. They had a vantage point that gave them a panorama. Nothing could move without them being able to see it. Unfortunately for them, there was nothing moving. They knew this for a fact. They watched the desert not move all day. Along about four o'clock, they decided it might be a good idea to refuel the jeeps. That was when they discovered that they had no spare fuel. Juarez began to rant again. They radioed for somebody to bring them some gas. Then they siphoned the remaining fuel from the other jeep into Juarez's vehicle, and he set out alone to reconnoiter while his men followed his progress and watched for anything moving. After a while, they saw something. It was towards dusk that they noticed it. It was so big that they really couldn't miss it. We saw it too, and we climbed aboard the bus and took our bearings. They would be the last bearings we would get for a while as the sandstorm swallowed us. We figured it would be a good idea to keep going. The road was still visible most of the time. When we couldn't see it, we kept on it by feel. If our wheels strayed to one side or the other, the roughness of the shoulder was easy to feel and correct. Of course, there were some blind sections that made us slow up, and there was one spot where I'd thought I'd lost the road completely, but just when I thought I was going to have to stop and backtrack, a signpost loomed in front of me, and I ran it over, but I managed to get back on the road. We knew that Juarez was somewhere behind us. We'd heard him on the radio. We figured, however, that the sandstorm would stop him. He was in an open jeep while we were in a closed bus. I hadn't counted on one thing, though. I'd really pissed him off. Juarez had been directed to our location by the soldiers on the ridge. Then they had lost him in the sandstorm and had needed to take cover themselves when the winds overtook their location. The bus left very little in the way of a trail, but we were on the only road in the area. You really couldn't call it much of a road. It was just a trail across the desert where traffic had hardened the crust and worn it into a rut. Juarez set his wheels into it and followed us. In reality, he was just covering territory... just trying to keep up. He didn't expect to catch us, and it surprised the hell out of him when he had to slam on the brakes to avoid rear-ending the bus. It was stopped in the middle of the road. He drew his sidearm and dug himself out of the jeep. The bus was still running. It loomed like a building in front of him. He felt his way cautiously along the side and approached the driver's window with his weapon at the ready. Then he leapt around to the front of the bus and pointed the gun at the windshield. But the bus was empty. That was when he felt the barrel of the Iraqi rifle touch his neck. I was already handcuffed to the Iraqi jeep. The driver had been just about to take off when he got the call to wait... that there was another one. They marched Juarez past my forty-one prisoners who were sitting in the road with their hands over their heads, answering questions and trying to establish their identities. They made the Major and me share a pair of handcuffs. "Welcome to Iraq," I said. I don't know why I said it. Perhaps it was the relief I felt. Everything was out of my hands now. "Where are they taking us?" Juarez asked when he had finally figured out what had happened to him. "Baghdad," I said. "They think we're spies." "How do you know that?" "A six-foot Iraqi commando told me." The jeep took off and made conversation impossible, but that didn't stop Juarez from telling me exactly what he thought of me. I wasn't paying attention though. I was watching a white form in the middle of the road in the desert.Ali had his hands on his head like the rest of them, but seemed to be sitting up straighter and gesticulating with his elbows. I saw him look at the jeep when it pulled away. There was a look on his face that I had only seen once before, and that had been on the dock in Kuwait when I'd pulled my knife and he had thought he was going to die. He mouthed something to me. There was no hope of my hearing it, of course, but I think I got his message. He didn't die... either time. My boys were all declared heroes and paraded through downtown Baghdad. Juarez and I were in the parade too. Then we were taken to the army base and locked in the brig. At last I had time to think. I thought about my life and how it had come to the point it had, how I had been drifting aimlessly until I had fished Ali out of the oil and fallen in love with him. After that, my life had had a purpose, a direction. Ali was my rudder. But even he couldn't steer me right. I was a fuck-up... just like Juarez said I was... just like he kept telling me every single day of our captivity. We had adjoining cells. That meant that he could keep up an almost constant harangue. I know that it annoyed the guards. I shut him out. I had my memories, and they kept me sane through the two weeks that we served in those little miserable cells. My favorite memory was the afternoon we spent together on the desert. I did not sleep. I couldn't with Ali there. I studied his face and memorized his features. I could draw him... if I could draw. Even now I can close my eyes and see him lying there beside me in his filthy white robes that I had given him. His naked feet were filthy too. He'd been mucking about a lot after I threw him out of the tent, taking care of the odds and ends like he always did. He woke up and caught me staring at his feet again. This always embarrassed him. He worked them up into his robe and punched me in the gut. "When we get to New York City, I want you to buy me a pair of shoes," he ordered. "Real shoes, Larry. Then you won't have to look at my ugly feet again." "But I like looking at your feet," I protested. "You're weird, Larry. I suppose that's why I love you." "Do you?" "Do I what?" "Do you love me, Ali?" "Of course I do. I told you I did, didn't I?" "Not until just now. You never said it before." "I didn't?" "Nope, most of the time you never said nothing. Every time we had sex, you stopped talking." "I thought you liked it like that..." "Sure I did..." "I thought you knew..." "I suppose I did, but you never said it before." "Well, from now on I will say it every day. I love you, Larry." "I love you too, Ali. Promise me that you will never leave me." "I promise." "Let me see your feet." "Fuck off!" I never did see his feet again.He asked for permission to interview me. He said that he thought he could get a confession out of me. The commander sent him away with the promise that his request would be considered. Three days later it was granted. When asked what time he would like to interview me, Mohammed became a little melodramatic and requested that the interview take place at midnight. When asked why midnight, he replied that there was a psychological advantage to waking a man up in the middle of the night. His request was granted. That's when my chickens came home to roost. I knew there was something out of the ordinary happening when my cell door opened. It opened at the wrong time of day. I wished that I had my watch. It would have made it easier to keep track of what part of the day we were in. The lights in our cells were kept on at all times. There were no windows. We were in the middle of a building somewhere and the only time pieces we had were our biological clocks and the changing guard. Meals provided a clue, although sometimes the guards played with our schedules by giving us the wrong meal... you know, breakfast when you're expecting dinner... that sort of thing... I guess what I'm saying is that I really wasn't surprised by the time of Mohammed's arrival, but I noticed it was a little late. Of course, the guards rushing in, stripping me and tying me down to the bed naturally sparked my curiosity. Then I saw Mohammed and knew that I was in trouble. "Your name is Lawrence St. Laurent," he said as the guards squeezed past him and shut the door behind them. I heard the key turn in the lock. "My friends call me Larry..." "I am not your friend." "Then I take it this is not a social call." "No," he answered, "this is a retribution." "Do you expect me to confess?" "No," he laughed. It was the first time I'd seen him smile. He was missing a few teeth. I hoped that the butt of my gun had been responsible for their loss. His smile turned into a sneer. "I expect you to die. I expect that it will take a while though. I also expect that I will enjoy it." I imagined that he would. He started slowly enough. He removed a length of rawhide from his jacket pocket and wrapped it around my genitals. The other end he tied to the foot of the cot. I winced when he pulled it tight, but I tried not to give him the pleasure of hearing me cry out in pain. "I will let you enjoy the feeling for a while," he told me, "however before you die you will lose them." He pulled a straight razor from his shirt and opened it. "But before the operation we must shave you." I winced once more as he wielded the blade in such close proximity to my penis. He was no better a barber than I had been when I'd shaved him. I heard a guard's voice outside my cell door. It was challenging someone and a relaxed familiar voice answered it. I wished again that I had studied Arabic. I wanted to know what Doc was doing in the prison. Whatever he was doing, I hoped that he would be quick about it. I was bleeding from several cuts already and I didn't want to end my days as a woman. There was a muffled cry outside my door and I heard something fall. Mohammed heard it too. He stepped away and peered through the open slot. He must have seen something because he challenged whoever was out there. Seconds later the door opened and Twenty-one stepped in. He was carrying a rifle. He looked at me. "Hi, Boss. I see you're still into kinky sex." "You should talk..." I smirked. Twenty-one glanced at Mohammed. "Is this guy your barber?" Mohammed eyed him suspiciously and Twenty-one busted a few more of his teeth with the butt end of his gun. Then he used his razor to cut my genitals free. "Hi, Larry." It was the first time I'd seen Ali in uniform. "Sorry it took us so long to get here." He was on his knees untying me. Then he helped me dress. "You guys are crazy," I said. "How in hell did you manage to get through the security?" "Doc took care of that," Ali grinned. "How are we going to get out?" Ali reached up and kissed me. "The same way we got in. C'mon." We left Mohammed tied up in my cot. We didn't stick anything up his ass though. We didn't have time. Ali led me out and down the hall. We were almost out of the holding cell area when I remembered Juarez. "Let's leave him," Ali suggested. "The Iraqis deserve him." "Ali, you're an Iraqi too," I reminded him. "Kuwaiti," he corrected and held up my knapsack. "We have to take him, baby." I'd used the term of endearment many times with Ali, but it felt strange using it to a man dressed in the Iraqi army uniform. "We got him into this mess. We have to get him out." Ali took the keys from Twenty-one and headed back. It was the first time I'd noticed the body lying on the floor. It was the guard. "Is he dead?" I asked. "No, just asleep," Twenty-one answered. "Where's Juarez?" Ali called. Almost immediately a voice answered from the cell next to Mohammed's. Ali unlocked the door. Juarez pushed his way out and looked around. "What the fuck's going on?" he asked. "Just shut up and follow me," Ali said. "You're being rescued." "Are you guys the special forces?" Juarez asked. "Yeah," Ali answered. "Real special..." Ali took point and led us up the hall to the first security point. We walked through it past the officer on duty. He fell in behind us as we passed. "Hi, Larry," he said. I looked back over my shoulder. "Hi Forty. Do you work here?" "No, man. I was just filling in for somebody tonight." He smirked. At the next checkpoint I noticed a pair of feet lying on the floor. Five stepped out from behind the counter and joined Forty. I began to see how we were going to get out. I even thought that it might work. "Whose idea was this, Abdul?" "Ali's," he answered, "but don't worry, we improved it. By the way, Larry, I'm supposed to be getting married tomorrow. I'd invite you to come, but I don't think any of us are going to be too welcome when they find you gone." "What the fuck's going on?" Juarez asked. "Whose idea was it to bring him?" Abdul asked. "Larry's," Ali and Twenty-one answered in unison. "You'd better shut up, Major," I warned. "Who are these guys," Juarez asked ignoring my advice as usual. "They used to be your prisoners," I told him. "And will be again, with any luck," Twenty-one added. "You mean they actually are Iraqis?" "I'm Kuwaiti," Ali said over his shoulder. "I've got papers." We reached another checkpoint and picked up another two escorts. I recognized Ten and Twenty-nine. They smiled wide smiles and fell in behind Abdul and Djamal. There was an Iraqi soldier asleep at a desk. "What did you use? Knockout drops?" I speculated. "That's a trade secret," Doc answered. "Ali, you're limping again." "It's these stupid boots, Doc." "I'll order you some orthopedic shoes tomorrow," Doc mused. Then he remembered what it was he was doing. "Do you suppose they'll accept my prescriptions in Saudi Arabia?" "I know one thing for sure," Twenty-one commented wryly, "they won't accept them in Iraq anymore." A nervous laugh swept through our parade. "You could always go barefoot, Ali," I suggested. "Will you stop that?" he complained. "Stop what?" Doc asked. We reached the front of the building and Doc's question went unanswered. We would have to go outside now. There were real soldiers out there with real guns and real bullets. What I didn't realize as I stepped out with four more soldiers behind me was that the majority of the soldiers hanging around outside were my men. We all converged on a truck and everybody hopped up inside. Ali sat beside me on the floor of the box and I put my arm around his shoulder. I felt his familiar arm about my waist. In the darkness I heard him catch his breath a few times as he cried silently beside me. I was crying too. I had never expected to feel his touch again. I pulled him closer to me, his head found my chest and he soaked my shirt with his tears. As we slowed for the main gate three more men jumped onto the truck. "How many of you guys are there?" I asked. "All forty-one," Ali's muffled voice said into my chest. "You mean everybody came?" I buried my face in Ali's hair. "Lieutenant, did you just kiss that Kuwaiti?" Juarez asked. "Yes, Major, now do us all a favor and shut the fuck up, or we'll throw you off the truck." "Can't I do it anyway, Boss?" Twenty-one asked. But I wouldn't let him. Instead he pointed his gun at Juarez and requested that he turn around and face the other way. When Juarez's back was turned Twenty-one smiled, leaned over and kissed me on the lips. "It's good to have you back with us, Boss." I made a mental note to learn the name of every one of my men. I started with Twenty-one. "What's your name, Twenty-one?" He grinned at me. "I sort of like Twenty-one," he answered. "No, I want to know your real name," I insisted. Ali looked up at us and there was a look of anticipation on his face. It made me press poor Twenty-one again. "Come on, man. Tell me your name." "I don't like my real name. Can't we just stick with Twenty-one?" "No." I looked at Ali. "Do you know his name?" I asked. He grinned and nodded. "What is it?" He stretched up and whispered in my ear. When I heard the name I understood its owner's aversion to it. It was the mother of all names. I looked at Twenty-one. He was regarding me nervously. I guess he was afraid that I might actually say the dreaded name aloud. "You poor bastard," I commiserated. "You're right, we'll stick with Twenty-one." Twenty-one smiled a weak, grateful smile and turned back to guard his prisoner. I don't suppose that my independent confirmation that his name really sucked made him feel any better about it though. The truck bounced and swayed through Baghdad, then crossed a bridge with a lot of holes in it and headed south.We had to stop for several patrols and checkpoints where officers inspected the forged orders requiring the transfer of the prisoner from Baghdad. Four was driving, and he was a cool customer. He looked so bored that even Doc, who was in the cab beside him, thought for a moment that he didn't know that the orders weren't real. Then he remembered that it had been Four who forged them. None of the patrols bothered to look into the back of the truck. If they had, they might have noticed that there were two prisoners instead of one. Finally, the men began to relax. I took this as a sign that the last of the checkpoints was behind us. I relaxed too as the truck crossed the miles, and the North Star told me that we were headed in the right direction. I laid back and dozed with Ali's head on my chest and his familiar form in the crook of my arm. We crossed the Saudi border at about four o'clock in the morning. A cheer went up. Twenty-one nudged Juarez with the barrel of his gun. Juarez looked over his shoulder. "Yeah? What do you want now?" Juarez asked humorlessly. Twenty-one handed the gun to the Major. Juarez took it. For a minute there, I thought he was going to use it. Then, for a second, I thought he might be going to smile. Twenty-one clasped his hands onto the top of his head. Juarez sniffed and said, "Cute..." Then he put the gun down and turned to face the back of the truck once more. I guess he had other things on his mind. Twenty minutes after we crossed into Saudi Arabia, I saw something whiz past the back of the truck that made me start thinking. I banged on the cab and told Four to stop. The truck slid to a halt. Then we backed up to the signpost I had demolished at the crossroads just before the Iraqi squad had appeared in the sandstorm. "What is it, Larry?" Ali asked as I jumped down from the truck. I turned back and helped him down. Twenty-one joined us. I ran to the signpost to be sure that it was the one I had crushed. There was no doubt about it. It now stood about half the height it had been before. It had been speared back into the sand beside the splintered stump where it used to be. You could still see where the bus had dug up the shoulder of the road. "We didn't invade Iraq," I said. "We were kidnapped." "What's going on?" Juarez had joined us. I explained the significance of the signpost to him. "It would seem, Major," I concluded, "that you confessed to something we didn't do. We didn't cross by ourselves. The Iraqis took us into Iraq." The men were all off the truck by now. They seemed to be milling about. "But it's okay, Major. The Iraqis brought us back out too." Abdul stepped forward. He laid his gun in the middle of the road and started to remove his uniform. Everybody watched. Beneath his khaki, he wore the restaurant whites. Still visible on the breast of the shirt was the number five. He grinned at me and shook my hand. Forty stepped forward and laid his gun beside Abdul's. He too stripped down to his whites, the whites I had bought for him in Riyadh. He took my hand as well. The next man up was Twenty-one. "I don't have a gun anymore, Larry." He jerked his head towards Juarez. "I gave it to him." I couldn't help smiling as he took his clothes off. He was only wearing undershorts until Ali threw him his robes. They had been in my knapsack. He pulled them on gratefully and stuck his hand out. I grabbed it and pulled him to me. We almost destroyed each other's vertebrae. Then he saluted me, and I returned it. The next man up was Four, our driver. "What's your name?" I asked as he laid his gun with the others. He looked at me peculiarly. Ali translated the question. "Ahmad," he answered. "Thank you, Ahmad. Thank you for everything." Ahmad looked to Ali. Ali translated. Ahmad smiled and said something else. Ali stepped over to him and whispered into his ear. Ahmad came to attention and saluted me. "You're welcome, Larry." He grinned proudly and ripped off his shirt and pants. He produced a lighter and ignited the uniform. Then he threw it onto the pile with the others. Each man in turn approached me to lay down his arms and remove his uniform. It reminded me of a demented mass with me as the priest blessing my flock. But I appreciated the ritual, and with only a little prompting, each one of them spoke to me in English. They told me their names, and I did my best to pronounce them when I thanked them for what they had done for me. Juarez witnessed the event, but I doubt that it moved him as much as it did me. The blaze of the burning uniforms lit up the early morning darkness. It was probably what attracted the border patrol. I know it was what attracted the camera crew from Atlanta who showed up at about the same time as the M.P.s in the jeep who arrived as the last five or so men were performing the ritual. The M.P.s seemed to realize that something almost reverent was happening. They held back and waited. The camera crew didn't. They moved right in as Three was telling me that his real name was Farid. The portable light of the camera almost blinded him as he began to unbutton his uniform. He looked at me. I told him that I understood and that it was not necessary for him to take his clothes off if he felt embarrassed by the lights. Ali translated. This seemed to satisfy him. He defiantly ripped off his shirt and flung it into the flames. His pants were quick to follow. Farid was really just a boy. I shook his hand like a man, though. Then I saluted him. He snapped to attention and returned the salute. Then he walked briskly away to join the sea of white behind me. Chapter Ten Saudi Arabia Have You Ever Had One Of Those Days? The camera crew recorded the next two men as well and then they found Juarez and asked him what was going on. I didn't hear what he said, but I found out later that he had told them that he wasn't sure, but it looked to him like General MacArthur saying goodbye to his troops. Then he added, "Only this guy shall not return. He'll probably be shot at dawn." The correspondent asked him what he meant by that. Juarez told him. He was just getting started on a diatribe about my mutinous behavior when the cameraman unshouldered his machine and drew the reporter to one side. They both looked at Juarez again. Then they both looked at me. The cameraman shouldered his camera again, and they moved in on Juarez. "Major Juarez," the reporter read his name from Juarez's name patch on his shirt, "aren't you the man who was interviewed recently for Iraqi television? Were you not a prisoner of war?" "I escaped last night. As for the interview, I was forced to read a statement the Iraqis had prepared. I said nothing that I myself had written." I didn't remember any script or cue cards, and I had been present for the taping. "Are you not the same Major Juarez who was promoted for having prevented an Iraqi commando from blowing up the docks north of Kuwait?" "What?" This came from Ali. He had changed into his robes and was now watching the camera crew work. His outburst attracted the cameraman, who panned to find him. "He didn't stop me. Larry did." The reporter turned and brought his microphone in Ali's direction. "You say you were the one Juarez stopped?" "I'm the guy who was trying to blow the oil," Ali confirmed, "but Juarez didn't do anything to stop me. It was Larry that did that. Juarez just pissed me off. If I had had a decent flint, none of us would be here today." "Who is Larry?" "That guy over there shaking hands with that Iraqi. He's your hero... well, he's mine anyway... He saved my life that day... twice..." Ali looked contemptuously at Juarez. "That guy didn't do nothing but scream at me." The reporter turned back to Juarez. "Didn't you say that the Iraqi who tried to blow the oil was over six feet tall?" The cameraman nudged him and whispered into his ear. The reporter continued. "Wasn't he supposed to have threatened to use a hand grenade?" Juarez looked at Ali, who pulled himself up to every one of his five feet and three inches. "There was a lot of oil... Everything was black... I thought he had a hand grenade... It didn't look like a lighter." "It was a lighter," Ali stated flatly. "Why don't you ask Larry? He was closer to me than you were." "Is that true, Major Juarez?" Juarez turned on me. "St. Laurent! I thought you said that the prisoner had been shot by an Iraqi!" "He was," I answered. "But the Iraqi who shot him didn't have any bullets in the gun he used." "Who is this guy?" Juarez asked, looking straight at Ali. "Didn't you tell me he was a Kuwaiti?" "Yes, sir, I did." "Well, is he?" "He has papers to prove that he is." "Well, why the fuck was he trying to blow the oil?" "You'd have to ask him that, sir." "Why were you trying to blow the oil?" the reporter asked. Ali looked confused for the first time. He looked at me. I shrugged my shoulders. I didn't know what to tell him. "I was trying to commit suicide," he finally admitted quietly. Then he looked up at me. "Larry stopped me. He saved my life and showed me that there are still good reasons to want to live. Larry is my friend. Major Juarez is a liar... and an idiot..." This last comment did not sit well with Juarez, who made for Ali with murder in his eye. He didn't make it all the way, though. When he picked himself up out of the sand, he looked to see what had tripped him. Twenty-one smiled at him and apologized for having such big feet. He was now standing between Juarez and Ali. Naturally, the reporter wanted to know who he was. "Hi, I'm Twenty-one. I'm from Iraq. Well, all us guys are. We busted Larry out of jail last night and brought him back to Saudi Arabia. Larry made us bring that guy with us. I knew it was a mistake, but we couldn't talk Larry out of it."Larry's the kind of guy who does the right thing, even when it's wrong. Twenty-one got a confused look on his face as he tried to figure out why what he had just said didn't seem to make sense. "Your name is Twenty-one?" the reporter pursued. "It is now, yes," Twenty-one confirmed. "What was it before?" "I'd rather not say." "I understand. You want to protect your family in Iraq..." Twenty-one considered this. "Yeah, okay..." By now all of my men had re-surrendered to me. I had been keeping track of what was going on with the camera crew out of the corner of my eye, but I think you already know how I feel about television. I wasn't too anxious to be on it. But, like it or not, I was next. "Lieutenant St. Laurent," the reporter began as the dog and pony show moved in my direction, "what were you doing in Iraq?" There it was. They'd saved the hardest question for me. I squinted at the light and tried to figure out how to explain my actions... where to begin... how much to divulge... "He was kidnapped," Ali said. The camera swung back to him. "The men and I escaped from Camp Whatchamacallit when Larry told us that everybody would have to be sent back to Iraq. Larry was guarding the gate when the men stormed it. I was responsible for getting the gate open. We had to take Larry hostage or he would have tried to stop us. Major Juarez followed us. He didn't know that we had taken Larry hostage. We didn't have time to leave a note." "We were headed for Jordan. We thought that we could get from there to the States someday. See, that's really all any of these guys wanted... a chance at a new life. Larry tried to help us get it. But when he couldn't swing it, we decided to take matters into our own hands. So we stole the bus and set out across the Nefud. We would have made it too, if it hadn't been for that stupid sandstorm..." I was relieved of course that Ali had drawn the cameras away from me. I hate cameras. I looked at Twenty-one. His forehead was a mass of wrinkles as he considered the story Ali was concocting and tried to remember all the details in case somebody asked him to confirm it. Behind him, Abdul was translating what Ali said for the men who didn't speak English. "We got lost and ended up coming across an Iraqi patrol a couple of miles north of here. We were still in Saudi Arabia. It was the Iraqi's who were on the wrong side. I guess they were lost too. But they had guns and there was nothing Larry or any of us could do about it. They took us back to Baghdad. They tortured Larry and Major Juarez until the major agreed to make the video tape. When we saw the tape, we knew that we had to do something. So we went in and got Larry out... we got Juarez too." The camera lingered on Ali a while until the cameraman realized that he had finished. Then they turned back to me. "Is that what happened, Lieutenant?" the reporter asked. I looked at Ali. He stared back hopefully. I looked around at the men in white who surrounded us. They were my friends. They had risked their lives for me. Even now they had no guarantees that they would not be dead by the end of the week if they were shipped back to Iraq. And yet they were trying to protect me. "No," I said, "that's probably the biggest crock of shit Ali's come up with yet." "Sheesh, I don't believe this guy," it was Twenty-one of course. "What did happen, Lieutenant?" I looked at Juarez. I looked at the M.P.'s. I took another look at Ali. "The truth is," I said, "it was all my idea. Ali didn't want to have anything to do with it. He told me that just before we left. But he came along anyway when he could have been safe back in Riyadh. I was never a hostage until the Iraqi patrol picked us up. Ali was right about the location, though. The Iraqi's were in Saudi Arabia. We weren't in Iraq." "He's right about something else, too. All of these men are heroes. If it wasn't for each and every one of them laying their life on the line, Major Juarez and I would still be in prison in Iraq. In fact, I'm pretty sure I would be dead... or horribly mutilated, by now." "Lieutenant, who are these men?" the reporter asked. "They're my friends," I said. I heard Juarez grunt with satisfaction. As far as he was concerned I had just slipped the noose around my own neck. I tried not to pay attention to him. "I say that proudly," I added. "They are all good men. They are all prisoners of war as well. They risked their lives for me and the major. If our government sends them back to Iraq it will be committing murder forty times over." "Lieutenant St. Laurent," the reporter said, "could you tell us how you came to know these men?" I guess he thought it was a simple question. The sun was standing high in the desert sky by the time we finished. The M.P.'s had let the reporter and his cameraman do their job for them. They had a pretty good idea of what had happened and they hadn't had to do anything but take notes... and radio for backup. When the other soldiers arrived, the M.P.'s approached us and asked me to accompany them. Juarez smirked until they told him he'd have to get in the jeep too. They let me hug Ali and Twenty-one before I left, but when a line up started to form behind Twenty-one they got a little impatient. They still hadn't had their breakfast. They herded the men back into the Iraqi truck and we started back to Camp Whatchamacallit. Well, my men went there. Our jeep kept going all the way to Riyadh. My hug on the desert was the last time I ever touched Ali. Juarez and I were quartered in Riyadh and placed under house arrest until the investigation could be completed. Jerry visited me every day and advised me legally. But nobody could advise me about how to deal with the depression. There was a television set in the room they gave me. But I was afraid to turn it on. I was afraid that I would see myself holding a gun walking behind an oily little wog between the abandoned vehicles that littered the road north of Kuwait City. I was afraid that there might be news of another sort... news of the exchange of prisoners... my prisoners. I didn't want to know about that. I considered trying to escape... trying to make my way back to Camp Whatchamacallit... stealing another bus and trying again... Then I found myself considering Ali's original option. That was when I knew that I was in trouble... real trouble. A week went by like that. It was worse than the two weeks I had spent in Baghdad. At least in Baghdad I had been the enemy. Here I was supposed to be on the same side as the people who were doing things that I couldn't accept. It was a relief to be called before the generals. The room was a boardroom. I was escorted in by two other soldiers and positioned at the end of the boardroom table. The generals and their aides were seated at the other end and along the sides. Jerry was there. So was Colonel Hadford. I couldn't meet his eyes. I had used him, and now he knew it. It was difficult for me to find a place in all of the other problems I had caused for so many other people who had trusted me, but I managed to fit my regrets about the way I had treated the colonel in among all the other screw ups. I caught a look at him out of the corner of my eye, though. He didn't look angry. He has that kind of face. I guess you'd call it a poker face... always the same. "I want to start off by saying at the outset that the only reason that we are not recommending that you be court-martialed and shot is that your commander was one of the biggest assholes in the service," the head general began. "That being said, I want to ask that my previous comments be stricken from the permanent record of these proceedings." They ran the tapes back and restarted the machines. "Lieutenant St. Laurent, we have heard your side of the story already. We have heard from the other witnesses. Your entire squad has been interviewed and confirms the highly unorthodox way you seemed to have handled... the situation. What we want to know now is if you have anything further to add... anything we don't know about?" "I have nothing to say, sir, other than to request once more that some provision be made for the Iraqi men who risked their lives to save mine... and Major Juarez's." "Private..." "Yes, sir?" "No, not you, Lieutenant... Juarez. He was stripped of his rank. He is now a private. He was shipped back to the States yesterday. Don't you watch television, man?" "Actually, no..." "Well, it seems that you are in a minority, Lieutenant. Everybody else seems to..." "Sir?" "...watch television, son. Everybody Stateside seems to, anyway. You've become quite popular Stateside. So we've decided to send you there." I guess I must have looked a little dejected. "Is there something wrong, Lieutenant?" "It's the men from Iraq, sir. I was wondering about them, sir." "That is out of my hands, Lieutenant. You'll have to speak to Colonel Hadford about that." I guess I glanced at him. He raised his hand to tell me to hold on. I looked back at the general. "Your actions in Kuwait have been duly noted, Lieutenant. There were many outcomes to the situation that would have been far more catastrophic than what has happened. Besides, your commander left a lot to be desired..." "That's why we have decided to promote you, Major." "Do you really think that's a good idea, sir?" The words were out of my mouth before I realized that I had said them. "Not really. I didn't say that I had decided to promote you, Major. I said that we had decided... I do have superiors too, you know... back in Washington... Evidently they watch television." "Sir?" "You really don't know what's going on, do you?" "No, sir." The general looked at me. "Really, Major, I like my officers to keep themselves informed.Colonel Hadford, would you mind bringing the Major up to speed?" Colonel Hadford stood up. All eyes turned to him, mine included. "Major St. Laurent... Larry... you may not watch television, but you've spent a lot of time appearing on it in the past few days. It seems that you and your prisoners have become a cause célèbre back home. It's all that anybody's talking about. Even my mother called me to tell me what to do." "Sir?" "You've made it to the talk shows too, Major... you and your men..." "I don't understand, sir." "It would seem, Major, that although you should be court-martialed, the only court you are to be tried in is the court of public opinion... and the trial has already been held. Your promotion was the verdict." "What about my men, sir?" "That, Major, is up to you." "Sir?" "Evidently some strings have been pulled in Washington. Well, after the outcry on the talk shows, I guess we all pretty much expected that would happen. At any rate, the end result is that you will be allowed to sponsor the men into the States, if you agree." "All of them?" "Yes, Major, all forty of them. It seems that they have become heroes in the minds of the American people. That's what the talk shows are telling us anyway. There's been about a ton of mail addressed to somebody named Twenty-one at a place called Camp Whatchamacallit. There have even been a few job offers." "When would I be able to see the men, sir?" "Whenever you wish, Major. Unless, there's anything anybody else has to say..." The consensus was that everything that had to be said, had been. I was elated. Jerry came over to me and shook my hand. I saluted the generals and prepared to leave. "Where are the men?" I asked Colonel Hadford. "They're still at the camp, Major. Security there has been relaxed a little and it's been turned into a hospital for the Iraqi wounded. Your boys are more or less running the place." "I imagine that made Doc happy," I said. "He'll have Ali running around..." That's when it hit me. "How many did they say I could take back with me?" "All forty, Larry. You're going to have your hands full finding..." "But, Colonel, there were forty-one." I had stopped in my tracks. Colonel Hadford stopped too. He was carrying a clipboard with several papers on it. He found the list of names. "Oh my God!" "What is it, Colonel?" "There was one Kuwaiti in the group. Because he was Kuwaiti, he didn't qualify for the amnesty. He was returned to Kuwait two days ago." "Ali..." "Ali," Colonel Hadford confirmed. I felt my knees go weak. "Do you know where he is?" I asked. "I'll try to find out. Why don't you get your stuff together and meet me in my office." "Colonel, I have no stuff. Why don't I just come with you?" "Didn't you have a gun, Larry?" "Oh my God!" "What is it, Larry?" "I think I left my gun in the restaurant in Kuwait." The news from Kuwait wasn't good. They were pissed with the Iraqis because of the destruction of their country during the nearly seven months of occupation. It was just a matter of time before someone spotted a smallish figure in dirty robes and asked him what his problem was. That the person who spotted Ali happened to have been in Kuwait during the occupation and remembered his face was probably in keeping with the run of luck Ali had been experiencing since the war ended. That Ali was an Iraqi soldier did not immediately enter the mind of the Kuwaiti man who spotted him and told the police about him. He only knew that he had seen him somewhere before and he worried that the dirty young man did not appear to have any place to go. Kuwait was filling with Kuwaitis once more, Kuwaitis whose exile had been cushioned by a surplus of wealth. They did not return to their homes on foot, dirty and disheveled as Ali appeared. They returned in their limousines, and when they got there, their homes were already being cleaned up by the Palestinians who had been serving them for years. The police who picked Ali up did not immediately know what they had. He showed them the identification that had been issued to him by Colonel Hadford. They ran a check on this identification and found it to be legitimate. The knapsack Ali carried added further proof of his affiliation with the allied armies. But when they looked into the outside pocket of the knapsack, they found something that Ali had forgotten about. He didn't know it was there because he hadn't put it there. I had. The police pulled out the two pieces of ID that Ali had brought with him to the docks... the two pieces of ID I had washed for him and pinned to the knapsack to dry... the two pieces of ID I had been unable to read except to establish his first name... the two pieces of ID I had carelessly stuffed into the outside pocket of my knapsack to keep them safe for him... the two pieces of ID that condemned him as an Iraqi.Anyhow, as soon as he put the telephone down, he worked the intercom and motioned for me to follow him. I was led to a small room with a sheet of plexiglass for one wall and a telephone on the table in front of the plexiglass. The other side of the room behind the plexiglass was dark, but I could make out another table with another chair and another telephone. There was also another door. It opened, and a hand reached in and turned on the light. The room flickered before me until the fluorescent light finally caught. And there he was... looking frightened and shriveled and so much smaller than I had remembered him. The guard told him what to do, but he did not look at him. His oil-colored eyes never turned away from me as he felt his way into the chair and picked up the telephone. I picked up the other one. "I'm sorry," I said. "This is all my fault." "Larry, don't..." he answered. "Doc was right. It was the will of Allah. I served his purpose. Now I must be punished." "What for?" I asked. "You didn't do anything wrong." He looked at me strangely. Then I realized that there was a bit of a smirk on his face. "You really haven't been paying attention, have you, Larry? The oil... the onion... the hamburger... I thought God had got even with me with the pџt,, but I guess not. I guess he must have been keeping score for a while now." "He got even with Juarez. They busted him down to Private." Ali's face lit up when he heard that. "What about you, Larry?" "The idiots promoted me. I'm a major now." "Way to go, man!" "It doesn't mean anything. It was either promote me or shoot me. Evidently we all made a splash in the States with that video they shot. They said I could take everybody home with me... everybody, but you, that is. I didn't know until yesterday that they had sent you here." "Yeah, I know." "Are you all right... I mean, considering?" "Yeah, Larry, I'm okay. The food's pretty good. Of course, I'm not their favorite inmate. When do you guys go?" "The day after tomorrow..." "So soon? How'd they work that?" "They're working the propaganda machine. They want to show us off while the sentiment is still high. I guess we'll be working a few functions for them. That will give me a chance to try to get you out of here." "I know you'll do it, Larry... But don't be too disappointed if it doesn't work. The Kuwaiti's are very upset with me right now. I'm the wrong kind of wog." "Colonel Hadford is out bending a few ears for you right now. He hasn't forgotten how you showed him where all the mines were. He told me he'll stay here and try to get you home to me." A voice came on the line. It said something in Arabic. Ali smiled. "We only have another minute, Larry. Please don't forget me." "That would be impossible. I'm going to let the world know about you." "Just your mom and dad would be good. I know you'll do what you can, though. Will you write to me?" "Every day. Just be sure you take care of yourself. Colonel Hadford will come to see you to make sure nobody hurts you before we get you out. I love you." The door opened behind Ali, and he stood up. The phones were now dead. But we did better without words anyway. He mouthed his answer to me. Then he was gone... and I never saw him again. I looked at the clock in the next room. Only five minutes had gone by. I wondered how hard Colonel Hadford had had to work for even that much. The next two days of my life flashed past. I spent almost every waking moment talking to people who didn't want to hear what I had to say. The only friend I had in the army was Colonel Hadford. He worked harder than anybody for Ali's release. I already had his guarantee that Ali would be included in the amnesty once the Kuwaiti's released him, providing of course that they did not try him and find him guilty of war crimes. That was a distinct possibility too. Ali had confessed that he was planning to blow up the gas and oil pouring into the Persian Gulf. He'd said so on television. There were only about three thousand copies of the tape in existence. The fact that he hadn't done the thing did not mean that he had not contemplated it... and attempted it. The fact that he had showed Colonel Hadford where the mines were did not impress the Kuwaiti's much either. They pointed out that there could be only one explanation for him knowing where they were... he had to have put them there. If anything, they pointed out, that stacked the deck even more against Ali. I was torn when I saw the plane that would take me away from Saudi Arabia, probably forever. I hated it... the plane, not Saudi Arabia. I had grown to love the country. I had met so many nice people. I was taking forty of them home with me, but leaving the one who had defined my life for me... and has continued to define it for me ever since. The men were excited, of course. For most of them, this was their first plane trip. It would be a hell of a trip to start. They would be following the sun and travelling for more than eight hours, but they would be arriving in the New World, as they referred to it, at the same time they left the old one. It meant a lot of translating for Twenty-one, who had taken over as the leader of the group in Ali's absence. Like all good leaders, I got on last, hoping against hope that there would be a shout from somewhere half-way across the airport to tell the plane to wait for one more passenger. But the shout never came, and Twenty-one, the Doc, and the stewardess eventually persuaded me to board. I strapped myself in as the plane began to taxi. "Sound off," Twenty-one ordered when the announcements were finished. This time the men got to forty, and the voices stopped. That's when I realized that Ali really wasn't going to be coming with us. That's when I started to write my third letter to him. It was a long one. I wanted to tell him about how the roll-call had affected everyone who had called a number and how quiet it had been while everyone waited for his, "forty-one." Everybody contributed a message to the letter, some in English, some in Arabic. We mailed it to Colonel Hadford when we landed at Andrews. For some reason, I didn't trust the Kuwaiti mail service. Our first surprise awaited us in the lounge of the airport. Winston was there with forty-one suits. All but one had a number on it corresponding to the number of the man whose measurements Abdul had faxed to his lover in Washington. The one without a number was a gray thirty-six short wool suit that would have looked beautiful on Ali. I thanked Winston and said that I would put it in Ali's closet until he got home. The men cleaned up at the hotel, and although they were all dog tired, we attended our first function at a church in Virginia. This time, others catered the reception, and my men tasted the cuisine of another country as the guests of honor rather than surreptitiously in the kitchen. We all felt out of place, and we shook a lot of hands. Twenty-one and Abdul were very popular with the young women. They posed for pictures with a lot of them, kissed a few of them, and signed a lot of autographs. I sidled over to Twenty-one after one of these photo sessions and commented that he seemed to be enjoying the young women. "Not really, Boss," he answered. "I'm just trying to make a good impression. It sure is different, though." "What? The country, the women, or you?" I asked. He looked at me with a startled expression. "Everything but me," he answered. Five and Winston walked by almost holding hands. Twenty-one noticed the look in their eyes. "I guess this is where Abdul gets off the bus, huh?" "It sure looks that way," I agreed. "I'm going to miss him." "Yeah," Twenty-one sighed. "We all are." We watched the couple disappear through the front door. "You'd think he would say goodbye, though." Almost as Twenty-one finished speaking, the door bounced open again, and Abdul raced back in. He hurried back to us. "I'm going now, guys," he said. "Here's our card. I'll be at the home number. Larry, thanks." He hugged me, and I saw a tear forming in his eye. "Don't worry about Ali, man. I'm gonna pray for him. We all are. He'll be here before you know it." I kissed his forehead, and we hugged again. This made a few people in the church nervous. I realized that I would have to watch my step. I didn't want to alienate these people who had helped us so generously when we had needed them. We didn't want to open another front in the war just at the time we were negotiating the prisoner exchange. Then Twenty-one hugged Abdul too, and he was gone... but not for long. I looked at the card that Abdul had handed me. It bore both his name and Winston's. There was a pretty exclusive address on it as well. I filed the card in my wallet. We attended every reception that had been laid on in our honor. As I promised Ali, I spoke to everyone who might be able to influence the Kuwaiti government to release him. There were congressmen and a couple of senators, two ambassadors, and an assortment of attaches who heard my pleas. Some listened, others didn't. Sometimes I would feel I was getting somewhere, other times I felt like I was banging my head against the wall. Finally, it was all over, and time for me to take my men home, or rather to try to find homes for them. We used the club as our residence... well, there was really no other place big enough. I guess you've seen the club, but that's not the place I brought my men. It was a whole lot seedier then and about forty years out of date... you know, mostly a place to get drunk in... and the faster the better. We had a tired band or two that played there, but mostly it was just the piano and from time to time a jazz trio, when they weren't playing the bigger clubs downtown. As for atmosphere, though... nada.I knew that the place needed a facelift, but there were two things that I lacked to be able to make the club into a paying proposition. The first thing I didn't have was the money to do it. The other thing I lacked was an imaginative idea... something that would attract people. I brought both back from the Middle East with me, but I didn't realize it right off the bat. What I did realize was that my men needed homes. It was while I was busy looking for them that Twenty-one and Doc, who were staying with me at my apartment, began hatching a plan to turn my club, the Kool Kat Klub, into the hottest thing to hit uptown Manhattan since discos. They realized that they had an abundance of talent in their group, artists, musicians, techno-whiz-kids, culinary craftsmen... you name it... we had it. But probably the most important thing we had was a brotherhood that extended a lot farther than my forty men. New York City is a truly international metropolis. It didn't take my boys long to get to know the other Arabs in the neighborhood. Some were distant relatives. All of them were connected. If a thing was needed, it could be obtained. Often it could be obtained without money exchanging hands. Lots of things are free in this world. My men seemed to know where the free stuff was and how to get it. The first thing I noticed was that the food started to taste. I can't say that it tasted better, because the chef I had hired before I left for the Middle East didn't actually serve anything that had flavor. He made everything bland so as not to upset anyone's palate in particular. The next thing I discovered was that Twenty-one had been working on my computer. This was his special forte. He had learned English partly in order to make use of the machines he had found in the university. Arabic had its limitations. One of these limitations was the number of good computer programs that were available in it... none. Twenty-one took to the machine like a duck to water and when he discovered mine it was just a matter of time before he had his own directories filled with much better programs than I could afford. I asked him where he had obtained them, but he was vague. When I asked what he was doing with them he was a little nervous about showing me, but I pressed him and he called up a CAD program. "We've been thinking about the club, Larry," he began. "You have a pretty good location, but..." "But it needs a lot of work," I agreed. "I was hoping to have a little money left over from my service in the Gulf, but I mustered out a little sooner than I thought I would." "And it hasn't helped having forty mouths to feed," Twenty-one added. "Thirty-nine," I reminded him. He looked at me and a few more furrows etched themselves into his forehead. I guess he had forgotten that Abdul was now in Washington. "Still the place needs a face-lift," he pressed. "I think we all agree on that." "Yeah," I said and watched as his long fingers flickered on my keyboard. "The only thing bringing people in right now is you guys. They want to get a look at a bunch of real heroes." "Then why not use that?" Twenty-one asked. The computer drew a three-dimensional view of the club as it was. "What do you mean? Put you guys on display? You're already working there a couple of nights a week." "Yeah," Twenty-one agreed, "but only as waiters and cooks." He flicked a few keys and sat back. "Why not make us..." he glanced at the computer screen as it began to redraw the same view of the club, but with a completely different decor... "the main attraction." My club had been transformed into something out of the Casbah. It was the same building, but now there were big slow-moving ceiling fans and low round tables covered with white cloths. The walls were rough plaster, there were lattice-work screens and indirect lighting filtering through them. Twenty-one grabbed the mouse and led me through the three-dimensional replica, past the bar, up onto the stage and back down through the front door. The screen went blank. Then a new picture redrew itself, this time a representation of the front of the building as seen from the street. The facade wasn't all that bad, but the phony marble front did nothing to attract the eye. I think the original idea had been to not repel anyone. "We have a few changes in mind for the exterior too, Larry. This is the only thing I'm not too certain about. I know how sentimental you are." "Me? Sentimental? Like fuck! Go ahead, Twenty-one. Let me see what you have in mind. There's nothing about the front of the building that can make me sentimental. I've hated it ever since I first laid eyes on it." "No, man, I didn't mean..." "It's all right Twenty-one. Show me what you want to do." He clicked a few keys and we watched. "Have you ever read '1,001 Arabian Nights'," he asked as the computer looked through its files for the right one. "Yes, of course," I answered. "Ali Baba and the forty..." My club had been transformed before my eyes. The windows on either side of the door were now onion-shaped as was the doorway itself. The phony marble was gone and a stucco front added to the Middle Eastern influence. But what caught my eye was the neon sign above the door that had replaced the fluorescent one that had advertised the Kool Kat Klub. Now the name of the club was scrawled in an elegant imitation Arabic that read, "Ali Baba's". Tears welled in my eyes. "Shit! I knew it!" Twenty-one cursed. "I knew it was too early to show you." I grabbed him and kissed him. He held me for a while and we had a good cry together. Then I told him that his plans were beautiful, entirely appropriate and far too expensive. "That's where you're wrong, Larry. We've just about got everything we need. All we needed from you was the go-ahead, two weeks completely shut down, the okay to invite some media people for the re-opening, and a promise that you won't go off the deep end when we start tearing things out." "You have everything you need? Where did you get..." "Oh, yeah and a promise that you won't ask where everything came from," Twenty-one added. I hugged him again and looked at the computer screen. The simplicity of the design appealed to me. "It's beautiful," I said. "He'd love it." "Yes he will," Twenty-one agreed. Then he got excited. He grabbed the mouse and moved the image drawing closer to the doors. "This is my favorite part," he grinned. "The doors are voice-activated." He pulled a small microphone from the side of my computer. "Where'd that come from?" I asked. "The sound card," he answered. "But I don't have a sound card..." "You do now. Oh, and I had to remove some of your dirty picture files... but don't worry... I backed them up on disks. Do you mind if I copy them?" It was my turn to grin. "So how does this work?" I asked. "Well, the customer comes to the door and they say the words once. If they have been there before the computer will recognize their voice. If not, that will mean there's a new customer and a gong will go off. The doorman will appear and make sure they are old enough to come in. Then he will tell them to repeat the passwords and the door will open." "Go ahead," he urged and his anticipatory smile went from ear to ear. "Try it." "What do I say?" I asked. Twenty-one's smile disappeared. "I thought you said that you'd read the book, man." "Of course," I acknowledged, feeling like a fool. I put the microphone close to my lips and said, "Open sesame!" The doors flew wide open and a young man in flowing Arab robes bowed to me on the screen. I started crying again. "Sheesh, I don't believe this guy. It isn't necessarily Ali, Boss. Aw, shit! Now I'm doing it again. It'll be all right, man. You'll see." But Twenty-one was sobbing with me and the little Ali on the screen kept smiling and bowing and smiling and bowing and... well, you get the idea. That night Twenty-one and I had sex. We each needed the same person beside us, but he was far away, so we made do with each other. After seeing Twenty-one and Forty perform in the motel in Saudi Arabia, I was surprised and gratified by the sensitivity he showed. There was a lot of kissing as we gave ourselves over to the inevitable. The big friendly boy moved about the bed and presented different parts of himself to me as he explored my body. We had shared sex before, of course, but that had been in Kuwait, in the office of the restaurant, with Abdul and Ali, so this was the first time we had done it together alone. This was strange when you realize that we slept together every night. At one point I grabbed one of his feet and began to kiss it. "What are you doing?" he complained. He tried to yank his foot away. "What is it with you Arabs and your feet?" I asked. "Don't you realize that they're sexy too?" "But they're feet..." he argued. "I'm not asking you to do mine, man," I countered. "I hope not," he bitched as he parted my ass cheeks and shoved his tongue in. It felt really good, especially when he surrounded my asshole with his lips and sucked. "What's wrong with this picture?" I asked. It broke him up. I shoved his foot into my mouth as far as it would go and felt his toes wiggling inside. "Fuck you!" he called and tried to push it in all the way. I pulled off his foot. "That comes after the foreplay," I answered. Then I went for that long elegantly curved cock of his until I made him splash down my throat. I guess things got a little frenzied there for a while. We both had a go at each other's ass. We both unloaded a couple of billion sperm cells up each other's shitters. Then we both collapsed into a sweaty, sticky mess on the damp, sticky sheets and wondered whether or not we would wake Doc up if we took a shower together.Eventually, the conversation drifted back to the proposed renovations and the money that would be needed to do them. I was not satisfied with Twenty-one's assurances that everything was in place. I wanted to know how they had managed to round up everything in such a short time. That's when he told me about the network they had established with other immigrants from the Middle East. I was still not satisfied. I wanted specifics. "The neon sign," I said. "That has to be custom-made. What could you trade for that?" "That we had to pay for," he admitted. "But the money is just about all together for that. A couple more nights and we should have it." "Are you guys using your salaries from the club?" "No... not exactly. Well, not this club..." "What do you mean? Are you guys working another club?" "Not all of us... Just some of the younger ones..." "What kind of clubs?" "You don't really want to know, Boss." "All right, Twenty-one, which ones are stripping?" "You mean besides me?" "You too?" "Yah, so? It was your suggestion..." "I didn't mean for you to take me literally." "Hey, man, it's fun. And where I come from, it's all right for a guy to do erotic dances..." "But not without his clothes on..." [an] almost serene look on his face... at least the part of his face I can see. "Well, yah, that part took a little getting used to. But I like it, man... and they like me... most of them, anyway. I made about a thousand dollars already." "Yah, but how many weeks did you have to dance to make that?" "Three nights, Larry." "Three nights?" "Yah, well I didn't just dance." "I know what goes on in those places, Twenty-one. A thousand dollars in three nights?" "I was the featured performer. A lot of them remembered me from television." "I'll just bet they did." "Hey, don't worry, man, I didn't use my real name. I have a stage name." "What do you mean a stage name?" "I call myself 'Twelve'. Aw, Larry, what's the matter? Abdul's doing it too. He's the guy who found the place in Washington. He phoned and told me about one here in New York." "Winston lets Abdul strip?" "I don't think he knows. Anyway, Abdul's working on the voice-activated door. That's really a big-ticket item, so we had to put our best man on it." "I don't think I want you guys dropping trou to pay for the club..." "Larry, you'll just have to accept it. We all want to contribute. Some of us can do it by renovating the club. The rest have to raise the money for the things we can't scrounge. But don't worry. We aren't making it our life's work. We're just trying to give something back. You've given us a place where we can come and work. That will keep us from starving while we find the jobs we're really suited for. If we make the place a success, it's better for us. So a couple of us dangle our peckers in front of some guys... so what? They pay us for it. They're happy... we're happy... everybody's happy. And we get the club on its feet. What's so wrong with that?" "What's wrong is a little thing called 'AIDS'," I reminded him. "What you are doing is dangerous." "Doc already took care of that. He showed us all about condoms. We're all right, Larry. You can relax." "Doc knows what you're doing?" "Yah... sort of..." "What do you mean by 'sort of'?" "He thinks we're dancing for women." "No, he doesn't." It was Doc's voice that interrupted. "Why don't you two shut up? Do you want the whole neighborhood to know what's going on?" "Well," I said, "I guess it won't make any difference if we take that shower." In spite of my objections to the way the men were getting the money they needed to fund the renovations, we closed the club down two weeks ago. They gutted it almost overnight. By the end of the second day, the wiring had been upgraded. Twenty-seven was an electrician who had already found a job with a construction company. He made sure everything was up to code and called in the inspector he'd met on one of the sites he worked. After that, everything seemed to happen at once. Plaster went over everything inside and outside. As soon as it was dry, the trim was applied. The stage was reinforced and re-planked. The bar was overhauled, and all new plumbing was installed. A mirror the length of the bar was installed. Several coats of paint were slapped on, inside and outside. Yesterday, they installed the carpet and the sign. Today, Twenty-one is trying to debug the doors. They told me it would be ready for tonight, and I guess they were right. There's only one thing missing, of course. I guess we know what that is, huh? A happy ending... Well, it's time for Colonel Hadford's bus. He flew in from Saudi Arabia last night. He said that nothing could keep him from the opening of Ali Baba's. He must have waited for Winston and Abdul. They're due now too. Colonel Hadford called me last week and told me that Ali really appreciates all my letters. Unfortunately, he is unable to send me any answers... something to do with censorship... He says that we have to keep praying for Ali, and I do. I've started to go to church, too. Ah, there's the Colonel now. Colonel, over here. Abdul, hey man, don't you guys have any luggage? "Hi, Larry. You remember Winston." "Yes, of course. Colonel, it's good to see you. Did you have any word from Ali?" "Yes, I did. But I think my batman has it. He'll be right here, though. He's just getting the luggage off the bus." "What did he say, man?" "I believe the message was, 'Forty-one.'" "What did you say, Colonel?" "Turn around, Larry. He said, 'Forty-one.'" "Ali??? Ali!!!" "Please, Larry, not in front of the men..." Editor's Note: At this point, the tape stopped. Epilogue Setting The Record Straight Hello, my name is Twenty-one. Larry and Ali aren't up right now, so I thought I would take advantage of the opportunity to set the record straight. First of all, I want to thank all of you who wrote to us and especially the ones who sent money. It was very kind of you, and we all appreciate it. Your efforts on our behalf really helped everybody, Ali included. Some of you have asked what we were doing in Kuwait. The answer to that is really quite simple. Most of us were trying not to be killed. I started out in Southern Iraq, myself. When your guys started firing the artillery at us, I decided that Southern Iraq had lost whatever appeal it had previously held. Of course, with the air war already pulverizing Baghdad, Northern and Central Iraq were even less tantalizing. So three days after the bombardment began, I personally invaded Kuwait... on foot. A lot of the guys had the same idea. See, you folks weren't taking prisoners at that point. You were too busy shooting at us. Kuwait was not being bombarded. The only real destruction came when our army headed back for Baghdad. That was happening at about the same time I got there, but I swear that I didn't do it. I was looking for somewhere to hide... and a bath. I found both in Kuwait City. I also found a lot of my friends there. We were waiting for things to cool off a little, and trying to figure out how to surrender without getting our heads blown off, when all of a sudden we hear this story about the restaurant downtown that's being run by a bunch of Iraqi soldiers who are serving meals to the U.S. military. Well, none of us believed it, of course, but I was getting pretty hungry by then, so I took off my uniform and wandered down there for a look. Naturally, I went in the back door, and I recognize a few guys. One of them gave me his dinner and went out front to make some more for himself. Well, I scarfed it down, and they showed me where I could lay down and get some sleep, 'cause I was pretty tired by then, but just when I'm starting to drift off, these two idiots in the freezer start to laugh about something. Well, I'm half asleep by then and I don't really know what I'm doing, so I go in there and ask them to keep the noise down because I want to get some sleep. It was the guy who gave me his meal who was in there with an American, only he's all dressed in robes like a Kuwaiti. Well, I didn't know whether to whistle or wind my watch by this point, but they grab me and take my clothes off, which is a little disconcerting, especially when they don't do anything but put more back on me. They dressed me up like them and sent me out to wait tables, right in a room full of U.S. servicemen. Ali, the guy who gave me his dinner, seems to be in charge, so I hang out with him for a while, and when I tell him that Juarez, the guy they really sent me out to serve, wants peaches and cream, well, Ali gets a stupid grin on his face and he gets me to go into the freezer with him and masturbate all over the peaches with him. That's when Larry comes in and catches us, only he doesn't say nothing. He guesses what it is we're up to and salutes just as I'm getting ready to unload on those peaches. We threw a little milk on there to sort of hide what we'd done, and then I had to take it out and give it to the goof. The son of a bitch never even tipped me. But I didn't want to tell you the same story Larry already told. I just wanted to make sure that you understood that I was tired and a little stupid when that happened. I don't remember actually surrendering to Larry, but I could have... I guess. I suppose that it was just sort of understood. Anyway, I'm not really like that... most of the time. My story really picks up where Larry left off, here in New York. He's right about all of us feeling bad about having to leave Ali, but we knew we had a good man going to bat for him. We'd all met Colonel Hadford, and he knew who we were. I don't think he believed that cock and bull story about Ali being Kuwaiti for a minute. But he got him his papers because Larry asked him to.I suppose that Ali showing him where all the mines were didn't hurt his case either. We fed him well too. He never had to worry about what he ate like that Juarez guy. I still can't believe that Ali fed him that onion, and the bastard never knew what he was eating. There was a lot of it on there too. Of all the people I have met in this world, I would have to say that Ali is the one who is most like a brother to me. I know how Larry feels about him. I feel the same. I guess that makes Larry sort of like my brother-in-law, or something. We're all one big family anyway. That's what made it so difficult to try to cheer each other up when Ali was in jail. We all felt just as bad as Larry did. Of course, it also made it hard to keep the secret about Ali's release from Larry. There wasn't a day that went by after Colonel Hadford told us and made me promise to make sure that nobody told Larry that every one of us didn't feel like telling him, but somehow we made it. Of course, now Larry says that he knew it all along, but that's bullshit... and we told him so. See, Ali was released about the same time that we started the renovations on the club. I have to admit that I had a little something to do with it, and even though I'm not proud of what I did... well, it worked. Let me tell you what happened. The guys and I realized early on that we were going to need some serious cash to pay for the sign we had planned and the doors that Larry told you about. We had no idea where to get it until Abdul phoned from Washington and told us what he had done the night before. Winston had been out of town with his congressman for a couple of days, leaving Abdul alone and feeling bored. So he went out for a night on the town and found this strip club where the guys strip and other guys watch them. He was hanging around outside when this guy comes out for a smoke and sees him there. It was one of the other dancers. He gets an eyeful of Abdul and likes what he sees and asks him if he's there to audition. Well, Abdul has been hanging around trying to work up enough nerve just to go inside, but he tells the guy that he wouldn't mind auditioning, if he thinks there's a chance that they would like him. Well, the other guy looks at him and says, "Oh, baby, there's no doubt in my mind!" So in Abdul goes, and the first thing he sees is a black guy with a twelve-inch cock waving in front of him there on the stage, which is just a bunch of boards propped up on cement blocks. Abdul figures he can't compete for size, and they probably won't want him, but he also figures, what the hell! He watches a couple of more guys to see what they do, then he hops up and does a strip that has the audience sitting on the edge of their seats with their jaws hanging open... sort of like Larry does. When he finishes, nobody claps for a while, then one guy starts, and the rest of the audience wakes up and joins in. See, they were all sort of in a trance there because Abdul is such a beautiful guy. They hired Abdul on the spot, and he worked there the rest of the night. All the time he's there, he's talking to the other dancers. A lot of them have been around a while and they know the circuit. They tell Abdul about the other clubs on the east coast, a lot of which are in New York, but they don't mention how the real money is made. Abdul doesn't know any better, so he stays in the dressing room all night, and when the shows are all finished, he goes to get his money from the manager, who tells him to be there the next day too. When he leaves, there are about six guys still waiting to see him and talk to him. The first guy asks if he can take him home. Abdul figures that would be a nice thing for him to do, and it's kind of late, so he says, "Sure." Then the guy asks him, "How much?" Abdul asks him, "How much for what?" "To spend the night with you," the guy says. Abdul says that he doesn't own his home and he shouldn't invite people to stay with him without getting permission first. The guy tells him that that is all right since he has a hotel room right around the corner and he'd be willing to pay Abdul two hundred dollars to come with him and let the guy use him as a lollipop all night. Well, this sounds like major bread to Abdul, and he agrees to spend the night with the guy and gets the most serious sucking he's had since Kuwait. The next day, he calls me and tells me that he thinks he has the down payment for the doors. Then he tells me where to go in New York to find the Follies. Now, I'm no Abdul, and I know it, so I get a bunch of the better-looking guys together, and we walk down to the place to have a talk with the manager. It turns out that she's a woman. Well, that was kind of stupid. I guess that she would have to be, wouldn't she? But it's a totally different idea than dealing with a man. You've got to understand we're Arabs, and not totally sold on this equality thing. But we swallow our pride and drop our drawers, and she watches each of us and chooses me. I'm sort of wondering what I've got myself into when she tells me she will start me off on Friday night and Saturday night when she usually has fifteen of us stripping. The other guys head up town to audition at a couple of other clubs, and I go back to Larry's club to see if anybody can teach me how to dance. See, I'm a little uncoordinated. Well, everybody wants to show me different stuff, and I'm getting sort of confused by it all and trying to remember what they say, when Ahmad asks me how I got the job if I couldn't dance. I told him I had just moved to the music, and he said, "Show me." They put on some music, and I got up on the stage and showed them what I'd done... well, I didn't take all my clothes off like I did at the Follies, but I took off enough so they got the idea, and Ahmad, that's Four to you, says it looks good to him and I should just keep doing what I'm doing. Well, that made sense to everybody. Anyhow, the next item on the agenda was finding me a costume. Ahmad just looked at me and said, "Why not wear the robes Ali gave you?" Again, everybody figured he was right, so I gave them a wash and hung them out to dry. That Friday night, the place was packed. I don't mean that everybody was there to see me, you understand, I'm just telling you that it was a busy place on Friday nights. I was just one of the fifteen dancers when I went in there, but I noticed that when I came off stage after my first dance and started walking around in my robes, that a lot of people were looking at me like they were trying to place my face. One guy in particular, though, was just looking at me. Every time I turned around, I would see him staring at me, until I looked, of course, and then he would look somewhere else. He was an Arab too. I thought he might have been offended by me having danced bare-ass, me being an Arab too and all, but he didn't come close enough to me for me to start a conversation with him. He just hung around me. Once I was talking to this guy who wanted to have sex with me, and I felt like I was being watched again. I looked over my shoulder really quickly, and I saw him turn and walk away. But he had been eavesdropping on my conversation. I had been telling the guy I was with that I was one of the fellows he'd seen on television during the war. He asked me what my real name was. I had been dancing as Twelve because when the manager asked me what my name was for the introduction, I had not been prepared. I didn't want to give my real name, Twenty-one, and the name I was born with really sucks, so I thought really quickly and told her Twelve, because Twelve is just Twenty-one backwards. But the guy I was with seemed okay, so I told him my name was Twenty-one. Anyway, the guy says, "So you really are an Iraqi... and a hero at that!" "Well," I said, "I don't know about the hero part, but I guess I have to admit to being Iraqi." That's when I looked over my shoulder. I didn't see the Arab guy again after that... that night. The guy I was talking to did eventually get around to telling me what he had in mind, and we did it in the women's washroom. He paid me thirty-five dollars and asked me for my phone number. I gave it to him, but I took his too and told him I would call him Sunday afternoon. I got a lot of phone numbers that night. The word spread through the place that I was one of the Iraqis who had busted Larry out of jail in Baghdad, and my dance card was full for the rest of the night. The same thing happened the next night. I was turning so many tricks that the manager decides to keep me on for the next day too, to see if I can pack them in one more time. She even put a special sign up out front advertising that she had me, "Live from Iraq, Twelve... it isn't just his name..." Now, I'm no slouch in the pecker department, but twelve? Well, I guess if you're using the metric system... and I'm really excited... But then I could use my real name. Anyhow, there were plenty of guys there on Sunday too, to suck a celebrity, and I hit a thousand dollars for the three days by about four o'clock in the afternoon. That's when I saw another Arab guy watching me. Only this time, this guy comes over and interrupts a conversation I'm having with another guy and tells me to come with him. I told him I was busy and he'd have to wait, but then he tells me that he does not intend to wait, and I feel the barrel of the gun in my back. He doesn't keep it there, but he just pokes me with it to let me know that he's got it. I figure that I'd better do as he says, so I excuse myself and go where he points me, which is out through the turnstile and down the stairs to the street. On my way out, I almost knocked over the guy I'd been talking to on Friday night... you know the guy I'd told who I really was?When I didn't call him that afternoon like I said I would, he called my number... well, Larry's number actually... and Doc told him that I had gone to work again, so he came over to see me. Anyway, I'm still in my robes, which is unusual, and this guy knows it... but I'm being pushed along against my will, and he sees this. When they push me into a limousine, the guy takes down the license number and realizes that the car has diplomatic plates. He realizes this because he works at the United Nations, and he makes a telephone call to find out everything he can about the Kuwaitis who are in town. Meanwhile, I'm being blindfolded in the back of the limousine. This leads me to believe that they are serious about kidnapping me... well, I've always been pretty smart. But at that point, I'm feeling pretty stupid, and I'm wishing I was back in Iraq. This wish gets fonder as the afternoon turns into evening. I'm led from the car to an elevator, and it goes up a couple of floors. While it's doing that, a couple of guys are stripping me naked. When the doors open, they push me through onto a marble floor and drag me along until I hear a door close behind me. The next thing I feel is a kick in the nuts that I am absolutely not ready for, and I double over like Larry's jackknife. This makes it easier for them to tie me up, which they do. They put me into a sling and then they leave me there. I hear the door close, but I don't think that I'm alone. Ten minutes go by, and there isn't a sound in the room, but I know that there's somebody there with me. I don't say anything, though. My nuts are still stinging, and I'm feeling sick to my stomach with the pain, and I don't want to go through it again, so I'm being a good boy. Then I hear somebody snap their fingers off to my left, but it doesn't really surprise me like I think he thought it would. I do turn my head in his direction, though. He isn't wearing shoes. I know this because the floor is still marble in this room, and a couple of seconds after he snapped his fingers to the left of me, he did it again, only on the other side. He's playing with my pumpkin, like Larry always says. Well, I don't bother looking, because I'm blindfolded, after all, and there's no way I could see anything anyway. I guess he figures that I'm getting a little sick of his stupid game, so he steps between my legs and grabs a healthy handful of my nuts and gives them a twist. This re-engages my interest immediately. He's hanging on with my nuts twisted around, I figure about three and a half times, and I defy any of you guys not to scream when that happens. But then he sticks my cock in his mouth and bites it. Well, my back arches up about a foot and a half when he does that. I'm thinking he's going to bite the fucker off. I'm screaming and pleading with him to stop, and I'm doing it in Arabic. Well, he stopped. I'm wishing I could see so I could have a look at it, and all of a sudden I can. He ripped the blindfold off me, and it turns out he's the Arab guy from Friday night. "You're Kuwaiti, aren't you?" I said. See, I'd been doing some mental arithmetic myself. "Good," he answered, "at least you know who is killing you, Iraqi." "Look, man," I said, "I didn't want to invade Kuwait. That was another guy's idea. I wasn't even in Kuwait until the war ended. I only went there to get out of the line of fire... and take a bath..." "Shut up, Iraqi. You killed my brother!" "I never killed nobody!" Sorry about the double negative, but that's as close as I can come with the translation. He grabbed my hair and pulled my head back until I thought my neck would snap. "You are guilty!" he screamed. "Allah knows you are guilty!" "Allah knows right where I was all the time," I argued. "I never killed nobody!" He fetched me a knee in the back. Then he went back between my legs. He took a loop of fine wire and pulled my nuts through it. I knew what he was planning and I didn't want any part of it. The loop had two free ends wrapped around a pair of wooden handles. He pulled the handles away from each other, and I felt the wire tighten around my scrotum just beneath the base of my cock. Between his feet on the marble floor sat a bucket. I knew why it was there. The bastard was going to castrate me and let me bleed to death... and he didn't want to stain the floor with my nuts or my blood. "Oh, jeesh," I whined. "Please, man, don't do that!" That's when the door opened, and a voice bellowed, "Yasin!" The man who bellowed looked a lot like the man between my legs, only older. He glared at the scene and tried to figure out what was going on. It did not take him long. The evidence was pretty much laid out before him. "What are you doing?" he demanded. Yasin still held the two handles that could sever my testicles in a millisecond. I hoped that the man in the doorway would realize this, but I dared not say anything for fear of angering Yasin, who was now apparently under the influence of the older man. The older man walked into the room and approached Yasin. "Give me those things," he said across my lower body. I wished that he had been a little more specific, but Yasin seemed to understand. He let the pressure off a little, but then he seemed to rebel, and I felt the wire tighten once more. "But he's an Iraqi, father," he cried. "He killed your son. And they made him out to be a hero." "Yasin..." "No, Father, he must die!" "And if he does, I will lose another son," Yasin's father said, and his voice was soft and full of love. "Give that to me, Yasin. I do not want to lose you, too." Well, Yasin started to cry, and he dropped the two handles. I felt the thing loosen and fall off. It clattered into the bucket. I closed my eyes and breathed a sigh of relief, and when I opened them again, Yasin was no longer in the room. His father was there, though. He looked at me, and I could tell that he didn't like what he was looking at. I guess a couple of minutes passed like that, then the door opened again, and two men came in. I recognized the man from the Follies who had kidnapped me. Now he was untying one side of me while the other guy did the other side. Yasin's father never touched me. They threw me my robes, and I pulled them on. Only then did Yasin's father speak to me. "You have me at a disadvantage," he said. "I have diplomatic immunity, but my son..." "You're a diplomat?" I asked. "I am," he stated. "This situation could be very embarrassing. I ask you to accept my apologies. I am also willing to reimburse you financially..." "I don't want money," I said, "I want justice." "You have that right," he acknowledged. "Kidnapping is a serious offense..." "I don't care about that," I said. "Do you have much influence in Kuwait?" "How do you mean?" I went for the bundle. "I've got this friend, see..." Colonel Hadford told me that Ali was released into his custody the very next day. Well, that's about all I had to add to Larry's story. I guess you all saw the news piece they did about the club opening. It was a real bash. I shook hands with the Mayor and a couple of other people who told me they were important. The guy who saved my life was there too. The place was really packed and has been every night since. I think we've got Larry off to a good start. Well, it only seems right. They say turnabout is fair play. Ali took my place in Larry's bed, of course, but don't feel sorry for me or nothing. I've been bunking in with another guy I met in Kuwait. He's taking me home to Boston in a couple of days to meet his mother. He's also going to get me into M.I.T. Maybe you remember him... his name is Roger Hadford.	null	Chapter One	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/24/larry.txt
59,846	George (Anon address)	Swinging with my Sister	You'll remember when I wrote my last story I said that it might be my last since fantasy had finally become reality after I had sex with my younger sister. Well, she's gotten hooked on reading these stories and told me that I should continue to send them and write about what we're really doing. It's been tough getting together much since last month when we finally fucked. Her husband is always around and he's a jealous guy too. Sis and I have managed a couple of quickies these past two weeks, and last Sunday I got a blow-job in the car while parked at the mall. Last night she called and invited me to a party they were attending at the country western night club here. By the time I got there, everybody was happy and the reserved section for the party was packed with people. It was a company thing and everyone had a spouse or a friend with them. Sue met me as I came up the steps and hugged me very tight, letting her hand brush across my cock. She was already pretty drunk and I looked around to find her husband sitting in the corner booth with a young girl my sister works with. "They're in heat," she told me and led me to the other side of the room where the bar was located. I looked around at the people and realized that this was a wild bunch. People were groping and getting groped everywhere. With my drink in my hand, my sister led me to a booth hidden behind the bar and we slid into the back side of it. Her hands immediately went to my trousers and she unzipped the pants and pulled my cock out under the table. From where we were sitting, we had a pretty good view of the table where her husband was sitting, and she motioned for me to check him out. He had his hand up the dress of the young girl and she had his cock in her hand. They were both nervously looking around the room to keep an eye out for my sister and the girl's boyfriend. They didn't have to worry. I had my fingers in my sister's pussy and the young girl's boyfriend was wrapped up in a lip lock with another woman on the dance floor. "Is anyone here with who they came with?" I asked my sister. She just smiled and pulled harder on my cock. Nobody was looking our way, so Sue leaned her head over in my lap and started sucking my cock. I put my hand on the back of her head and kept watch for anyone who might notice what was going on. I shot my load very quickly and she stayed down just long enough to swallow it all, then sat back up in the padded seat. She pulled my hand back to her crotch and I continued rubbing her pussy and fingering her wet hole. We both watched her husband as he tilted his head back on the seat across the room and shot his load on the bottom of the table where he was sitting. "Mine was better," I said as I kissed Sue on the cheek. She returned the smile and pulled my fingers tighter against her clitoris as she humped my hand trying to climax herself. It didn't take long, and I suspect that watching her husband fingering the young girl across the room had a little to do with it. We danced a few dances and while on the dance floor, we noticed her husband and the young girl slip out one of the side doors. That was all Sue needed, as she grabbed my hand and the two of us went out a door on the opposite side of the building. We walked out into the parking lot away from the lights and she laid across the hood of a small sports car, pulling her panties off and spreading her legs for me. I had my pants down and my cock in my hand before she could say "fuck me" and I rammed it in her pussy with one hard push. She was still soaking wet and I was hard as steel. Sue raised her legs up and put them over my shoulders as I stood there pumping in and out of her hot cunt. She reached up and grabbed two hands full of my shirt trying to get every inch of my cock and balls inside her. We fucked furiously for several minutes and she screamed loudly all at once that she was coming. I shot my cum inside her at the same time she was bucking against me and hood of the car. My cum dripped out of her pussy and formed a nice little puddle on the shiny red Nissan. I pulled my pants back up and looked around to find a guy leaning against the next car with his hands wrapped around his cock, which was sticking out the fly of his jeans. "Mind if I get a little," he asked. "After all, it is my car you two are using." Sue recognized him from work, and she looked at me as if to say "why not." I stepped aside and he took my place in front of her open legs. He was shooting his load almost as soon as he inserted the head of his cock inside her dripping pussy, and she only bucked a couple of times before he was trying to back away. The three of us smiled and he drove off as Sue and I held hands and walked back in the club. "I can't believe this," she said. "First I start fucking my brother, and now I've fucked a guy I work with." We laughed and sat back down at our booth. Her husband and the young girl were back at their booth, but her boyfriend was now back at the table also. Sue grabbed my hand and we walked to their table. Sue jumped in beside the young guy and I sat beside her. My brother-in-law acknowledged us with a nervous look, and Sue boldly told him "we saw you take this girl outside to the parking lot." He was dumbfounded and both he and the girl started stuttering trying to think up an excuse. Without giving either time to answer, Sue grabbed the young guy's hand and nudged me out of the booth dragging him with us. "I'm going to take him and my brother to the parking lot and fuck them both," she said, as the three of us walked away from the table. The young guy was even drunker than Sue, but he was smiling as she led him outside. We found another small car and she dropped her panties and flipped them to me as she sat on the car hood and leaned back. "Keep watch while I get some of this young dick," she told me. I had to laugh at the way my sister was behaving. The young guy was nervous, but he pulled his cock out and stepped up to the car and lifted Sue's legs up. She reached down and guided his cock into her cunt and engulfed the whole thing with one move towards him. He winced as his cock disappeared inside her and she grabbed his ass from both sides and pulled. I watched them fuck for a long time. He was young and kept his hard-on through two or three loads of cum. Sue loved every minute of this fuck she was getting. I kept looking around expecting to see her husband come out, but he never appeared. The kid finally had exhausted his nuts and stepped aside to pull up his pants. "Your turn," he said, and I walked over to the other side of the car, pulled her by the shoulders until her head was leaning over the side and unzipped my pants to let her pull my cock out. She swallowed the head and half its length and I grabbed both her tits as I started moving my hips in a fucking motion with my cock moving in and out of her mouth. The young guy went crazy over watching this and dropped his pants again as he stepped up and stuck his half-erect cock back inside Sue's pussy. She bit me a little as his cock poked back inside her, but she quickly relaxed to the sensation of getting it in both ends and adjusted her head so that I could deep throat her with my fucking motion. As I shot my cum down her throat, I noticed the two guys walking up to the car. They both smiled and watched as I pulled my cock out of my sister's mouth and she licked it off. She saw the guys and motioned the closer one to take my place. I zipped my pants up and stepped aside as he eagerly laid his cock on her face. She took him in as easily as she had me and began deep-throating him immediately. His friend had walked to the other side of the car and stood next the kid balling her pussy. The kid shot off again and stepped out of the way for the next guy. He pulled out a cock bigger than any I've ever seen. There was no way for Sue to know what was coming. As he shoved about ten inches of beer-can thick cock inside her pussy, she gurgled out a scream around the cock stuck down her throat and jerked wildly on the car hood. I could tell that she was going through a series of climaxes each time the guy's giant cock was pushed inside her. The old boy with his cock in her mouth moaned and started jerking his hips as he shot more hot cum down her throat and she reached around to his ass to pull on him and make sure she got it all. As he stepped back from her, Sue sat up partially on the hood to see who belonged to the horse cock stuck inside her.Both guys recognized her immediately after getting a look at her face, and she laid back down on the hood to enjoy the fuck of her life. Big Cock shot off soon after she screamed again, and all four of us watched as he pulled that huge thing out of my sister's pussy. She reached up and pulled me down to kiss her, and I helped her sit up. The other three guys thanked her and walked away, as I helped her stand up and pull her panties back on. Sue told me that the two guys worked with her and had both tried to seduce her before. She could hardly walk as we headed back to the club. We had both had our fill of sex, so we sat in the booth and drank a couple of beers until closing time. She invited the young girl over to sleep with her husband, and told them that she would be spending the night with me. He couldn't say a thing, and in fact we both suspected he was wanting to spend the night with the other girl. We woke up about noon today, and as I'm sitting here finishing this story with her looking over my shoulder, I can feel her boobs rubbing against the back of my neck and her hands sliding up and down my arms. Since I'm going to be needing my hands for other things shortly, I'll end this one here. "Sue says to tell you that you should be careful if you're going to try incest. It could lead to other trouble."	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/23/swingsis.txt
60,034	Ynyn	Scouting The Mall	You get your gear and head to the mall to search for new victims. The local mall was always crawling with possibilities. You have your van all set up with a mattress and bindings, and it has been completely soundproofed. Earlier in the week, you scouted the parking garage and found an area away from the cameras that was secluded enough for your plan. As you arrive at the mall, the potential targets around are amazing, and that's just in the garage and entering/exiting the mall doors! You enter through a big anchor store and spot some possible victims already. There is a blonde working at the jewelry counter who is hot, about 30 years old, wearing a grey suit/skirt, and as you can see through the glass case, her legs are encased in tan hose. You have a plan for an employee, but you will come back to that, time to scope out other possibilities first. As you enter the concourse, you spy a gorgeous Latina girl in a skimpy sundress. Her naturally tanned legs seem to go on forever. She is a classic Latin beauty, with long dark brown hair flowing down her back, and she looks to be in her mid 20s. She seems to be a bit lost in the mall, which could work to your advantage. Walking across the mall concourse from her is possibly the closest you will ever get to seeing Halle Berry; this woman is nearly a dead ringer! She has medium length hair, but appears to have a slightly fuller figure than the famous actress, as she strides about with a definite purpose. You decide to take the blonde who works at the jewelry counter. You figure it'll be easier than a customer because you know that the employees working late are likely closing up. So, to pass the time you stroll about the lower level of the store, stealing glances at her when she isn't looking. Finally, 9pm comes and they announce that the mall is closing, so you move back into position near her counter until they get ready to close the gates. You exit, hoping that she leaves by the same exit. You don't see her leave, but then you hear the click of heels on the floor and know it's her. She walks past you, and you get a nice look at her figure. It is indeed fine, very toned body, this woman must work out! You follow your prey into the parking garage, hoping she parked in your area; otherwise you'd have to go to plan B. No worries, she walks right toward the van! Then she gets a call on her cell phone, so she stops to talk. You sneak around the row of parked cars and go around her. She never sees you as you get into your van quietly and await her passing nearby. She finally hangs up the phone and it turns out she parked RIGHT BESIDE YOU! What a break! You take a cursory look around for any witnesses, there are none as you quietly slide the van door open... and get her! You grabbed her with your hand over her mouth and drag her into the van, slide the door shut and quickly gag her and handcuff her on the mattress. Ready to go, you think to yourself, and start the van and drive the few blocks to your place. You park the van in your own garage, which is also soundproofed, like the van. No one will hear a peep! As you climb into the back, the woman's eyes are wide as saucers. You look through her purse and get her name, Amanda. "Well, Amanda, looks like it's just you and me tonight, babe! Now, wait a sec, I'll take your gag off, because this is soundproof, honey, no one can hear you." You remove her gag. "HELP ME!" "Are you done?" you ask sarcastically. "I fucking told you NO ONE can hear you!" "Who are you-what do you want? Money? Take it all!" You smile... "Wow, so many questions, well I won't tell you who I am, as to what I want, well..." with that you start to slide your hand all over her clothed body, up her legs, then caressing her breasts. "NO! DON'T PLEASE! I'll suck you off, whatever, just please don't rape me! "Well, honey" you say "it's only rape if you want it to be" You begin removing Amanda's clothes, first her suit jacket, then her blouse, followed by her bra, which exposes her healthy sized breasts for your enjoyment. "Stop, let me goooo!" she yells as you suck on her breast, and then forces your tongue into her mouth, which muffles her for the moment. Now you start to work downward, unzipping her skirt in the back, and tearing it in half to remove it from her body, and that lead you to multiple surprises: First is her choice of attire... the sexy vixen is wearing stockings and a garter belt! The second is even more interesting, as you went to remove her panties, they were wet! She actually was getting turned on! "Aha! So, you like this, huh, Amanda?" "Wha--, what do you mean?" she asks, but her face is turning red. "You little slut, you get off on this?" "Nooo, I... No... don't... pleasee!!" she stammers as you pull the panties from her and begin to play with her using your fingers, to get her even more wet. "Ughhhhh... noooooo... don't!" She's getting in to it! You move in to claim your prey. "No... please... (Panting)... do what you want, just don't get me pregnant... please!" She's panting in heat, but still pleading for you to use a condom. Smiling you hold up a condom so she sees it, then her head rolls back as you continue to fondle her with your hand. As her head drops, you toss the condom away and just mount her. "Ughhhhhh!" Her head swings wildly as you pound into her. She is an amazing fuck! You grope and then suck on her breasts as you take her. "Ughhhh!" She comes and her head falls back, shortly after, you dump your entire load into her. She is too overcome by her own orgasm to notice your sticky load in her. You climb off of her and drive to the mall parking. When you arrive you tell her the news. "Well, we're back where you parked, Amanda, now remember I know you now, and we will meet again... and I didn't even take your money, I already made my night deposit... looks like you'll have some little company in about nine months!" Her eyes grow wide and she starts to cry, as you get ready to let her go. Uncuffed but still naked, your seed dripping out of her, you push her out the door. "NOOOOO!" she cries as her sweaty nearly nude body is dumped beside her car. She is left in a heap, crying, wearing only stockings and a torn blouse, knowing she is pregnant. Between sobs she smiles faintly at the most amazing sex she ever had. You smile proudly as you light a cigarette and head home... now what to do tomorrow? END	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/47/scouting.txt
60,185	John Jameson	Ginger	Yes, I know--Ginger sounds like a stripper or some fantasy character. In some ways, she was a fantasy character, except that she was a living, breathing woman as well. If it makes you feel better, change her name to Mary or Phyllis in your mind, but I'll always remember her as Ginger. I was in the Navy at the time, and we'd recently returned to our homeport of San Diego after an extended deployment to WESTPAC. (To those of you lucky enough never to have been there, WESTPAC is Navy-speak for Western Pacific. In 1972, that meant one thing: a tour of duty off the coast of Vietnam). Typical of my brilliant timing, I'd managed to join the Tonkin Gulf Yacht Club just as Dick Nixon decided it would be a good idea to increase the naval pressure on the North Vietnamese. The seven and a half months of our deployment had been spent primarily on the gun line or on carrier escort and plane guard missions. During the previous deployment, the U.S.S. Hummer (not her real name) had fired 500 rounds from the destroyer's five-inch main guns over the course of six weeks on the gun line and enjoyed liberty call in over a dozen ports in Polynesia, the Far East, Australia, and New Zealand. This time, we'd spent six months in the Gulf and the South China Sea, fired off fifteen thousand rounds of five-inch, and snagged six visits to Subic Bay in the Philippines and five glorious days of R&R in Hong Kong. On our return stateside, I had a week-long visit with my family. I didn't really expect my fiancée to meet the ship, since she was a college junior at the time and we returned in September, shortly after the fall semester began. I did think it showed class that she waited until the ship was back in port and she'd got a first-hand report from my sisters on my health and fitness before she wrote to tell me she'd be ever so much happier with someone else. She was also sure I'd be happy to know the proceeds from selling the engagement ring I'd given her before setting off for Southeast Asia had funded the trip she and her new love had taken, ostensibly to relieve the stress before the start of classes. Damn, that sounds kind of bitter, doesn't it? You'd think I'd be happy that the last of my college fund had gone into buying a diamond ring, which had given so much pleasure to my beloved, wouldn't you? I guess I was just grumpy at the time--everyone knows how unreasonable some Vietnam vets were on their return to the World. I'm sure my fiancée needed to get away for a while to rest up from all the stress and tension of summer vacation and working those backbreaking twenty-hour weeks at the mall. San Diego is a beautiful city, or at least it was then--I'm sure it's even nicer now. Okay, so there were still places where you'd see signs that read "Sailors and Dogs Keep Off the Grass." The climate is incredible, and the scenery is breathtaking in its beauty and majesty. About the only civilian women who would talk to sailors, however, were the hostesses at the USO and the professional ladies on Broadway in the massage parlors and strip joints. But show your military ID at the gate, and you got a discount on admission to the San Diego Zoo. Since I'd never been much into hookers, I spent a lot of time playing pool with the junior hostesses at the USO and attending parties at the homes of shipmates, many of whom were married. Gradually, a core group of us formed a regular social circle that got together for parties, night clubbing, movies, and trips to the park for softball and touch football. One of the few unattached women in the group was Ginger. She was actually a former neighbor of one of my best friends, and she had a brother who was also stationed in San Diego. Ginger had moved out there from their small Nebraska hometown to attend San Diego State University (SDSU), and since she and Rich had been such good friends back home, she became a part of our group. Ginger was always there, whether it was for a party at someone's apartment or a highly competitive game of touch football. She was full of fun and mischief, always ready to join in whatever mad plans we might make, but tragically, she limited her sex life to her fellow students at SDSU. A tragedy indeed. Ginger stood about five-eight, with honey blond hair, which flowed in unruly waves over her shoulders, enormous cornflower-blue eyes, a dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose, and a wide, full pair of lips, which begged to be kissed. She had marvelous breasts, without a trace of sag, despite her distaste for wearing brassieres. Ginger had a nearly flat stomach, neither rippled with muscle nor rounded. Her waist was almost slender enough for my hands to enclose fully, and her hips and ass were slim and firm and would have looked gorgeous in one of today's thong bikinis--they were pretty damn fine in the two-piece suits of the time, for that matter. Her long, lean legs, with the subtle play of muscle under tawny skin, were usually accentuated by short skirts and cutoff shorts. When she did wear jeans, the fashion of the day assured that they were tight enough that there was no doubt about the shape of the woman beneath them. In many ways, Ginger was typical of small-town girls of the time. She knew what sex is and how babies are made, but beyond that, she was naive. She didn't have twenty or thirty years of feminist philosophy to tell her that she had a right to expect certain things of a lover. Suddenly immersed in the sexual free-for-all of campus life in the early Seventies, Ginger was a living contrast between wide-eyed naivete and sexual liberation. While more than once I found Ginger to be the subject of my fantasies, I was no more likely to hit on her than I was the married women in our circle. She was a friend, and female friends were rare enough at the time that I wasn't about to endanger the friendship just because I hadn't been laid in nearly a year. Besides, she showed no sign of being interested in me other than as another surrogate brother; although, I doubt she told her brother about her dates in quite the graphic detail she sometimes shared with the rest of us. Many nights, I'd gone back to the ship or bedded down on someone's couch with the image of Ginger's sexual escapades racing through my sleepless brain. Shortly before I was to go home on leave for Christmas, there was a big party at the apartment of Wayne and Lanie Biggs. They lived in a Navy-dominated complex in Chula Vista, so the party flowed into a dozen others scattered around the complex, with people wandering from apartment to apartment drinking, snacking, and listening to stereo systems cranked up to the point that the windows rattled. I was catching my breath in the little free space on the sofa, drinking a cold beer, when Ginger popped out of the mass of bodies occupying the center of the room. Her hair was a bit disheveled, and she had a slight sheen of perspiration on her smooth, tanned skin; her cheeks were a bit flushed from dancing and laughing. Spotting me, she must have realized my lap was about the only available seating space left in the apartment, and she dropped unceremoniously onto me and made a grab for my beer. She laughed when I swatted her playfully on her denim-encased ass and complained that at least she could have asked before draining half my drink. She whispered something unintelligible into my ear. "What was that?" I shouted above the pounding of the music. "I said let's find someplace less crowded, and I'll even fetch you a fresh drink myself to make up for this one," she replied, leaning close enough to my ear that I could make out what she said above the noise. She stood and took my hand, and we weaved through the crowd to the front door. We wandered to a couple of other apartments with parties in progress, but the crowds were incredible. We did manage to snag a couple of beers at one place where they'd left the cooler outside on the balcony that ran the length of the second floor, but we couldn't find a place to sit. "Come on," Ginger laughed. "Let's go down by the pool. It's closed for the night, but at least we can sit down and hear ourselves think." Hand in hand, we strolled down behind the buildings to the pool area, but even though it closed at ten and it was now nearly midnight, it wasn't exactly deserted. We'd just hopped over the low fence and were heading for the lounge chairs when Ginger stopped so suddenly I almost ran into her.She raised her finger to her lips and then pointed to the pool, and I saw what had stopped her. There was a couple sitting on the steps in the shallow end. Or rather, the woman was sitting at the top of the steps, facing away from us. Although the man was facing in our direction, I don't think he saw us as his face was buried between his companion's legs, and they both seemed to be too engrossed to pay any attention to us. Stifling the impulse to laugh, we hurriedly slipped back over the fence and left them to their pleasures. Ginger's hand was once again in mine, and we walked away quickly until we could stand it no longer. We burst out laughing at what we'd nearly interrupted. "I didn't have the heart to intrude on that," Ginger said through her laughter, "although I don't know if they'd have noticed. She sure seemed to be fully occupied, but maybe he'd have welcomed an excuse to stop going down on her." "Then again," I countered, "he seemed to be as much into it as she was. God knows, I'd be pissed if someone barged in while I was in the middle of eating pussy." Ginger looked at me oddly. "Oh, come on, I know guys only go down on women so they can get blow jobs or if the woman isn't wet enough. You don't have to pretend they enjoy it." It was my turn to stare at her. I realized that although I'd heard her describe giving head often enough when she talked about sex, she'd never once mentioned having an orgasm while being eaten. Could it be this walking wet dream hadn't yet encountered a guy who enjoyed going down on women? The thought brought me to a full stop in the shadows behind the apartment complex. "Ginger, can I ask you a personal question?" When she nodded her permission, I took a deep breath, and the scent of her jasmine perfume reached me on the still, warm air. "Haven't you ever gotten off by someone going down on you?" "Not really," she replied candidly. "I mean, I've been close a few times, but then it was my turn to give them head, or they realized I was wet enough to fuck or whatever, so they stopped." She looked down at the ground. "I mean, it's not like I don't come--I usually manage to come before we're done fucking, and if I don't, I get off on my fingers afterward. Everyone knows guys usually come before girls do." "Shit!" I exclaimed without really thinking. "I can't believe that--if I were eating your pussy, you'd have to drag me away." "But if I came," she argued, "how would you get off?" She pondered that thought and went on, "I guess you'd want a blow job, or you wouldn't have eaten me anyway, right?" "No, no, no!" I countered. "I mean, yes, I wouldn't turn down a blow job, but I'd get off even more if we fucked, hopefully after you'd had a whole string of orgasms." Though her disbelief echoed plainly on her face, I could see through the white tank top she was wearing that her nipples were erect, and she was breathing faster than she had been. Frankly, our conversation, in combination with the image from the pool, had given me a throbbing erection, which was straining against my tight jeans. I just hoped Ginger didn't notice it; I didn't think she would in the shadows, and I sure didn't want her leaving at this point. "I've read about women having multiple orgasms," she told me hesitantly, "but I always assumed they were either exaggerating or that they were somehow freaks." "The way I see it," I explained, "sex is about getting your partner off and trusting him or her to make sure you do, too." Ginger inched closer to me. I could feel the hardness of her nipples against my chest, and the unmistakable scent of an aroused woman caressed my nose. "The whole idea of making love should be to give pleasure to someone," I insisted. "I know I get off so much more when I know I've made a woman come, preferably over and over, before I can't hold back any more and come myself." "Oh my God," she whispered, her lips only inches from mine now, "you're serious, aren't you?" I felt her hand slip between us, and then her fingers brushed lightly as feathers over the front of my jeans. I gasped--if I hadn't known better, I'd have sworn my jeans and briefs had dissolved away and her fingers had brushed against my bare cock. I felt the heat of her skin and the incredible softness of her caress, and then our lips met. She tasted faintly of hot dogs and beer, and I'm sure I did too. It didn't matter; we kissed with tender delicacy for what seemed ages before the tip of her tongue tickled my lips and my mouth opened to her caresses. I returned her kiss and caresses hungrily as our hands began to wander over one another's bodies. I'd never felt my skin so stimulated with all my clothes on, and judging by her little moans and gasps, she was getting as turned on as I was. Feeling brave, I finally touched her pussy through her jeans, trying to keep my touch as light as hers had been on my cock. I could feel how her juices were already seeping through the denim. "My apartment is less than five minutes away," she whispered, her teeth gently tugging at my earlobe. "I know it is." "Then why aren't we there fucking each other's brains out yet?" We took my car because it was parked closer than hers. I'd barely driven out of the parking lot before she unbuttoned my jeans and dragged my zipper down. I tried to keep my attention on the road as she managed to fish my throbbing cock out of my briefs and began to stroke it gently with her hand. "Baby, you know how long it's been for me," I groaned. "If you do that, I'm liable to come all over your hand." "No you won't," she giggled. "Why not?" "Because of this," she whispered, and arched her body over the center console of my '67 Mustang to slide those warm, full lips down the length of my cock. Her tongue felt like a live creature as it swirled around my superheated flesh while her head bobbed up and down energetically. It was literally only seconds before I could feel the semen boiling up from my balls, and I tried to tell her, but she just sucked harder and faster. I stiffened and felt the warm blasts of cum shooting into her waiting mouth as she gulped and slurped hungrily until, at last, I was drained. It was Ginger's turn to be surprised when, after pulling into her driveway a couple of minutes later, I pulled her close and kissed her deeply, the salty taste of my cum still faintly in her mouth. "Why did you do that?" "To thank you for an incredible blow job," I told her. She looked at me and raised an eyebrow, completely unconvinced of my motive. "If it's okay for you to swallow my cum, why shouldn't it be okay for me to kiss you after you've done so?" I asked. "I've never met a guy who would kiss me after he came until I'd at least gargled--until now." She smiled and slid out the passenger door. Leaning back in, she looked at me and giggled, "Enough talking--let's get inside, so you can put your money where your mouth is, if that's the phrase I'm looking for." Ginger laughed again and ran for her front door. I laughed back and raced her to the door, catching her as she was unlocking it, and tumbled in behind her. "Are you serious about trying to make me come several times?" "Baby, I'm serious about trying to make you come until you beg me to stop. It's time someone put your pleasure ahead of theirs and let you feel what sex should be. I may not be the greatest stud of the western world, but I care about you and want you to know how good it can be to the best of my ability." Ginger took my hand and led me toward her bedroom, though we seemed to be stopping about every two steps for a long, hot, wet kiss and a lot of caresses over and under our clothing. Finally we were there, with the big bed beckoning us to begin our journey to paradise. I playfully pushed her back onto the bed and pulled off her shoes and then grabbed the waistband of the jeans she'd already unbuttoned and unzipped. They were so tight she had to wiggle her ass and legs as I pulled to get them off, but it didn't take long. I saw that, rather than the tank top I'd thought she was wearing, she had on a white sleeveless body shirt. No big deal, a couple of tugs, and the crotch snaps opened, even though the shirt and the panties under it were now soaked with her juices. Ginger sat up and tugged the shirt over her head impatiently, and I finally saw her breasts, those marvelous breasts that I'd dreamt of so often. My dreams hadn't done them justice. Ginger's breasts weren't massive, but they were well proportioned to her long, slender frame; firm as a teenager's with her nipples tilted up just enough to qualify as "perky." Her breasts were nearly as tanned as the rest of her body, and I remembered the little patio out back with the privacy fence, which kept her neighbors from spying on her. Apparently she took full advantage of it. Her nipples were about the size and length of pencil erasers, a dark rose color surrounded by deep pink areolae about the size of a half-dollar. I looked down over her flat, toned belly as I slipped her wet panties down those long, luscious legs and noted there were no tan lines below either. Her pubic hair was neatly trimmed to accommodate her skimpy bikinis and was clipped short. It was the same honey blond color as the hair on her head, and I could see her outer labia were swollen and opening, revealing the dark pink color of her engorged inner lips. My eyes roamed slowly upward from her feet--actually a little small for her height--along those gorgeous legs and up her body until I saw her smiling at me. "Aren't you forgetting something?" she asked, giggling like a schoolgirl. "Sorry, I got lost staring at the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," I replied truthfully, if a bit hoarsely. "What am I forgetting?"Get out of those clothes; I want to see you, too." I realized I was still fully dressed. I kicked off my shoes as I hurriedly peeled my t-shirt over my head and unbuckled my belt. Ginger's nimble fingers had already unbuttoned and unzipped my pants, and now she helped me peel them down along with my briefs. I kicked them toward the bedroom chair and dropped to the bed beside her, my arms going around her and pulling her close, feeling the hardness of her nipples pressing into my chest. We kissed again--wet open-mouthed kisses accompanied by frantic caresses. Her breathing was as harsh as my own as our hands explored one another's bodies. Despite having come just a few minutes earlier, I felt every nerve ending in my skin come alive to the sensation of her slender fingers gliding over my body. Ginger purred like a friendly cat as I kissed down her neck and the upper slopes of her breasts--purring that changed to soft moans as my lips and tongue danced lightly over her rock-hard nipples. I sucked one into my mouth and flicked my tongue against the underside as I pressed the sensitive tip against the rough surface of my palate. I felt her fingers tangling in my hair, holding my mouth to her breast. I spent several minutes worshipping her magnificent breasts, licking and sucking her nipples--even biting them gently and tugging them with my teeth, which brought forth a string of approving breathless comments. I began to kiss gradually down her belly, eliciting giggles when my tongue flicked in and out of her bellybutton, and then she gasped more when my tongue began to trace the edges of her pubic triangle. She arched her back and cried out when my tongue slid down over her swollen clit and explored between her slick inner lips. Her scent was slightly musky, with undertones of jasmine perfume, and her copious juices were clear and almost sweet. I parted her labia with my thumbs and began to flick the tip of my tongue between them, around the entrance to her cunt. "I'm wet enough, baby--you don't have to do that if you don't want to," she moaned. "You're more than 'wet enough," I replied, "but this isn't about getting you wet--I want to see you, smell you, hear you, feel you, and taste you when you come. I want to experience your orgasm with all my senses." I caressed her with my fingers and licked up and down the length of her slit, my tongue occasionally brushing over her clit but not really attacking it directly. Ginger's long legs slid over my shoulders, and her heels began to move against the muscles of my back as she spread her legs wider the more I licked and nuzzled her sweet pussy. Gently easing the index and middle fingers of my right hand inside her, I glided my tongue upward and began to lightly tease her clit, bouncing the hard little nub on the tip of my tongue. I heard her gasp again, and her pussy clamped down on my fingers. She shuddered and stiffened, then began to thrash about as her first orgasm washed over her so that I had to hold tight to her hips in order to keep my tongue on target. "Oh, shit! Oh, God, that's so fucking good!" she cried out. "Yes, baby, right there! Oh, GOD!" Her nails dug into my scalp as she pulled my willing face closer to her crotch. "Fuck yes! Oh, baby, just keep doing that!" As I felt the spasms inside her slowing, I removed my fingers from her cunt and began to thrust my tongue in and out of her hot, flowing pussy. My slick fingers brushed against either side of her clit, and within a couple of minutes, she was crying out again and drumming her heels on my back. I kept alternating my tongue and fingers on various parts of her pussy until she finally let her legs slide from my shoulders and pushed me away weakly. "Oh, baby, I'm getting too sensitive--I can't take any more for now," she murmured hoarsely. I slowed, my tongue and jaw nearly numb, though I was reluctant to leave the taste and scent of her. My face was drenched with her juices, and I rested my head on her thigh, smiling up at her. In a minute, still breathing raggedly, she smiled back down at me with her eyes shining brightly. "I've never come like that before," she whispered. "It was like being on a roller coaster that didn't end." Ginger slipped her arms around my waist as I slid up her body and stretched out beside her. All of this time going down on her had given me one of those hard-ons that feel like they'll never go away; although, I knew from the feeling of her strong, slender fingers, which encompassed it and stroked it gently, that I was far from numb. I wanted to look into her eyes when she came again, and I told her so. "More? You really think I can come again so soon after that?" "There's only one sure way to find out, isn't there? The only question is if you want the top or the bottom. I don't care as long as I get to watch that beautiful face." Ginger's only answer was to roll over and squat over me, slowly lowering her hips until I could feel the head of my cock nestled between the slick inner lips of her cunt. She reached down with one hand until she got the alignment she wanted, then stared into my eyes as she braced her hands on my chest and slowly sank down on my cock, letting the swollen head feel every little ripple inside her as she engulfed me in her heat. My hands reached up and cradled her marvelous breasts, my fingers delicately attacking her erect nipples. The only points of contact between us as she began sliding slowly up and down my rigid length were my hands on her tits, hers on my chest, and that wonderful friction of my hard cock sliding in and out of her very wet, willing pussy.Just as I lost all ability to maintain any kind of rhythm, Ginger screamed out my name in a long, drawn-out wail and went absolutely rigid under me. Her heels pressed me inside her at the same time my hips drove forward. I felt her cervix kissing the swollen head of my cock in the instant before I began to shudder and empty myself inside her. The spasms within her heated cunt milked me until I collapsed, and I could barely find the strength to propel my weight to the side, so I didn't crush her beneath me. We lay like that for long minutes, drawing in great gulps of air to feed our starved lungs. I'm sure she could feel the rapid pounding of my heart just as I could feel hers, and as our breathing and heart rates began to return to normal, I turned toward her and saw the glow in her cheeks and eyes. I tenderly brushed some wet tendrils of hair from her face, and our lips met softly, clinging as we trembled through uncounted little aftershocks. "Danny, that was...no one has ever...oh, fuck--I've never come like that in my life," she giggled. "I could tell that from our conversation earlier," I panted, smiling and brushing one hand from her shoulder to her hip with all the delicacy my shaking hand could manage. "I wanted so much for you, at least once, to know what it feels like for someone to be as focused on giving to you as they are on receiving pleasure from you." We traded murmured endearments and soft caresses for a few more minutes before sleep overtook us. When we woke to the morning sun peeking through the blinds over her bedroom window, we shared the shower and cleaned each other thoroughly (filling the shower with as much laughter as steam) before stumbling into the kitchen for coffee and juice. We sat together nude on her little patio and talked quietly, laughing and joking like the friends we were and the lovers we might become, until Ginger took my hand and led me back to the bedroom. Our lovemaking this time was slower, less driven, but each of us was determined to make it special for the other. While our orgasms weren't the wild explosions they had been in the wee hours of the morning, I did manage to hold mine back until Ginger had crested at least twice, finally reaching my own release as she alternated sucking me and stroking me between her warm, firm breasts. She laughed with delight when at last I erupted between those incredible breasts, directing some of my shots onto her tits before she sucked the remaining semen from my cock with her mouth. After another quick shower, we dressed and drove back to the apartment complex to retrieve her Jeep. I had to return to the ship to prepare for a short temporary duty assignment, and we didn't make any specific plans for my return. Although Ginger and I dated several times over my remaining months in San Diego and made love at least a couple of times a month, we remained more friends than lovers. My own social life improved thanks in no small part to Ginger introducing me favorably to some of her female classmates at SDSU. The weekend before my discharge from the Navy, we did drive up the coast to a beautiful, little inn near San Luis Obispo where we did our best to drive one another insane with sex. We also found time for dancing and sampling some incredible food at the inn and at a restaurant nearby. Our letter writing gradually dwindled and stopped after I returned home. Ginger became just a memory, but one that I treasure. To this day, I find myself reaching into the storehouse of my mind and drawing up the memories of those magical months. I have no regrets when I look back, only warm thoughts and an occasional moment of wondering if Ginger, wherever and whatever she may be today, also looks back from time to time and smiles at the recollection. Whatever road you've traveled, Ginger, and wherever you find yourself--I still love you.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/10/ginger.txt
60,435	Holly Rennick	Dancing Lessons	Your sixth-grade teacher can teach you about geology. She can teach you about your body. A few years later, she can teach you about hers. It may take more time yet to learn about the little ripples that shimmer through your bodies when the two of you come without motion. Education is a two-way process. (Fm, ped, 1st, rom) To sixth graders at Flat Lake Elementary, all teachers are old. Knowing this was Miss Hanson's first year didn't distinguish her that much from Miss McGraw who'd taught our parents. Miss McGraw had us for fifth, and we were glad to be done with "fluxations -- a full minute of vigorous exercise between recitations to revitalize academic concentration." I liked Miss Hanson from the first day, how she waltzed in, how she told us to be seated, and how she informed us that glaciers scooped out our local water body. "It's not geography; it's geology. It's in the rocks." I liked her because she knew so much about everything. She showed on our globe, for example, where Amelia Earhart crossed the Atlantic. (The girls were more interested, but so were some of us boys.) "It's a big old world, but not too big for getting there and back," she'd observed. Roosevelt beating Hoover, she explained, was because in America everybody gets his turn. Probably another reason I liked her was that she was really pretty for a teacher, her yellow hair longer than Miss McGraw's jet black, her cheeks pinker and her lips more scarlet. I knew that Miss Hanson was new in town, renting Mr. Story's mother's little house because Old Mrs. Story had died. Miss Hanson didn't have family here, and other than Mama now, neither did I. I guess that Miss Hanson liked me OK, too. I studied for examinations and hardly ever got caught cutting up. When Miss Hanson wanted to move us onto the next subject, but nobody could answer the question about the last, she'd call on me. "Thanks, Andrew," she once confided when everybody else was grabbing their mackintoshes and galoshes. None of the other boys ever caught on that I was helping her teach. I'd never hang around and miss being shortstop or anything important, but sometimes if nobody was noticing, I'd stay after and help Miss Hanson pick up. It didn't take long, and we'd talk about things not school. That's how I found out that she made $225 a month, and that's how she found out that I could yodel. (I'd never been shown; I just could.) As I was stretching to hit five feet, her extra six or seven inches made me look up when we exchanged information. Once I asked if she liked the pictures. I'd just seen "Shanghai Express," really good. "Can you keep a secret, Andrew?" she'd answered, to my surprise. Why would a teacher tell a kid a secret? "Sure, Miss Hanson." "Did you see 'The Sin of Madelon Claudet'?" I shook my head; it sounded too complicated. "Well," she explained, "Helen Hayes plays this lady who went to jail for a crime she didn't do and has to earn money," she picked her words, "to pay her son's tuition. She won a cinema award, Helen Hays." She grinned. "But don't tell anybody I told you, promise?" I dutifully pledged. "It's probably a little old for you, and anyway, it's not the type they bring to the Pavilion." No, I agreed, because the Pavilion would stick with things like Shanghai Express. Helping wipe her pen nibs clean was the first time I ever thought much about her body. When she leaned over my shoulder for the blotter, one of her breasts touched my arm. At twelve, you don't notice that sort of thing too much, but then you start to pay attention. Some girls in my class had breasts, but just little ones. Maybe she didn't notice or maybe she didn't mind. But twice that week I touched her breasts on purpose. Once was when she was reaching up to shelve a book, I was behind and reached around and barely touched one on its side. The other time was when we moved her podium, me grabbing around the edge from my side and her from hers. The back of my hands could feel the binding beneath the ruffles of her blouse. Even still, she seemed so soft. It was one of those afternoons, me sitting at her desk to look at the National Geographic pictures of Abyssinia. Knowing I was interested in foreign places, she'd pulled our chair together so we both could read. People there are black but Christian, she pointed out. Some of the women were naked, but I don't think she noticed that part. Miss Hanson's breast was so near. It must have been because we were close that she rested my hand on her lap. I looked at the photo of Emperor Selassie as she explained about the Ethiopians beating the Italians in 1896. I knew by her voice that she wasn't looking at the picture, though, but at the side of my face. Somehow I knew from where she'd left my palm that she knew I'd wanted to touch her breasts. When we finished the article, she laughed about how big the world was, how little of it we'd ever see. When she needed somebody to mow her lawn, I was glad for the dime. Hanging around for the lemonade postponed my own Saturday chores, more since Papa had hitched to look for work in California. We were eating cornbread at Miss Hanson's kitchen table. "Andrew?" I looked up from my plate. "Do you know how to dance?" I shook my head. Mama wanted me to take lessons, but I wouldn't cooperate. "I've got two new phonograph records: 'Smoke Gets in Your Eyes' by Paul Whiteman and 'I Only Have Eyes for You' by Dick Powell. Heard them? They're both about eyes." I shook my head, same as before. Maybe I'd heard them, but not particularly. "I've never danced to them. Want me to teach you?" "Naah," my mouth full. "That's no answer. In a few years you'll be going to the prom," pulling me from my nourishment. I didn't want to, but then I didn't not want to, either. It was with Miss Hanson, after all. "Wrap with right; lead with left," articulating my stick-man configuration. "The boy leads, but not during lessons," pushing me backwards. It wasn't that difficult, and sometimes I'd even be steering her a little by the time she'd have to restart the record. Because of the height difference, though, my view over her shoulder was blocked, and I couldn't turn right as easily as left. It didn't seem to matter. We'd be more-or-less spaced the way she wanted until we'd simultaneously initiate a mutually-exclusive rotation and trip. But her eyes didn't tell me that I was clumsy. The first misstep or two, her breasts against my collarbone made me blush, but after a few collisions, Miss Hanson matter-of-factly parked me closer, explaining that we'd not bump so hard. I could see down her collar into the valley between her breasts. I didn't mind her chest cushioning my mistakes. My right hand around her back rested where her brassiere connected. "That's the right place to put it. Always press the girl toward you so she knows you're holding her." When the record ended, she reflected, "It's good to get to dance a little, isn't it?" Her breasts still touched me because I was still pressing the back of her strap. "You know how to tell your partner that it was fun?" not shaking me loose and knowing I lacked the answer. "With a little kiss, just on the cheek." I wasn't sure if this was something I was supposed to do, as this was just a lesson, but it didn't matter. She kissed me on my forehead. "No tell, OK?" I shook my head. I wouldn't want my friends to know. After the next time through, me working more on holding my left arm out straighter, she asked, "So how'd I do?" "Fine," I judged. "Like a dancer puts it." I blushed, I'm sure, but tilted my head and bussed her cheek. It was, after all, how you tell your partner. Except for Mama and a few aunties and both grandmas, I'd never really kissed anybody else before. I liked the way she smelled. "Good," she agreed. By two or more three times through, it was automatic. She'd offer her cheek and I'd peck. Actually, I rather came to look forward to when the record ended. But I didn't expect to catch the side of her mouth by accident. She'd made the mistake by turning too much. "You're learning, Andrew," not letting go for an extra moment, her chest high on mine. I knew that dancing sometimes made me get big, the same as what sometimes happened when we had goosing contests at Scout camp. Or would get sometimes when we'd look at a naked woman, like in Mike's flipbook from France. I was big sometimes just from waiting for the kiss. It wasn't exactly the same as flipping Mike's book, though; it was the flower fragrance of her hair.Maybe that's when I first noticed how close Miss Hanson's legs got, her thigh sometimes against me when we'd take long steps. She said it's Argentinean and showed me the Pampas in National Geographic. Dancing takes a lot of work. "Now Andrew, what happens at a real dance is that people take little breaks, go outside for some fresh air, maybe." I nodded. It's good to know. "But probably we shouldn't go outside, this house being where it is, so we can just sit down... No, you lead me with your arm, say over there to the divan." So seated, she didn't free my elbow, adding, "You may still give me the kiss you forgot." I had forgotten. I didn't get her cheek, though, because again she turned too much. And I didn't pull away because her mouth was just too red. And it just kept happening because I didn't know how to stop. Or maybe because of her pooched lips. At the end, we were both giggling at my lipstick smudge. In the process, the front of my arm was even more against her bosom. "Secret?" she queried. "Secret," I happily concurred. As much as I didn't appreciate the larger picture, the specifics weren't things that other kids should know about. "Let's try that again, then." So we did, Miss Hanson toward me and my arm again nuzzling. "I'd be more comfortable in my slip, don't you think? Your mother wears hers when you're around sometimes, I'll bet." It hadn't occurred to me she was uncomfortable, but it was indeed warm. Mama wore her slip to the bathroom all the time. It only took Miss Hanson a minute to divest herself of skirt and blouse, slip and brassiere straps the only things left to protect her shoulders. I could see the swells and seams underneath. Mama in her slip, I'd never noticed anything, but then I hadn't looked. "That's better," she agreed with her decision, reclaiming her place beside. "Just call me Jean Harlow." I didn't think that we probably ought to start kissing again, but hadn't the argument to dissuade. "Ummm," when she drew my reach to the side of her ribs, so close that my fingers lay against the silkiness, my wrist against softness. But then she guided my hand away. "That's so nice, Andrew, but you're not that old." The way she said it had more of a question mark. Twelve is almost a teenager. I'd heard of 14-year-olds lying to join the Great War and I wasn't too far from that. I wasn't too young for pride. "Oh, no, Miss Hanson, I'm plenty old enough," sensing that I'd improve my stature with my hand again on the side her slip. "They can't know," she objected, but not to my touch. I could see her brassiere cup where the slip fell away from her front. "Not if it's a secret," the nature of "it" unspecific in my own mind. "Well, just some more kisses," she conceded. "Everybody's old enough for that." I gave her my best, probably more energetic than anything. I must have been a little effective, though, because of her nipple's hardness within her underwear. Her inhalation told me she realized I was touching on purpose. "It's not such a good idea, me being your teacher," after she again moved my hand. "It's our secret," I reiterated, sensing that a hard nipple felt nice to her. "You've got to promise not to try to reach inside," cognizant that the vee in her slip wasn't that far away. "That would be really bad." "I won't," picturing her valley. Was that inside? "But what if somebody knocks?" appealing to my youthful deceptiveness. "Back there someplace." I vaguely waved, realizing that I could actually see the diameter of her nipple pushing against her slip. We gathered up the Victrola, Miss Hanson leading me to the bedroom. We danced again, me reverting to my innate woodenness. At the end, we kissed mouth to mouth and sat on the bed. I did know that being on a woman's bed was different from being on her divan, but as I wasn't touching, it didn't seem that much different. "That picture with Helen Hays?" She rested my hand on the silk of her knee. "You know what it's about?" "I didn't see it, remember?" "No, of course not. She makes love." I looked at her, probably strangely. "You know about it, right?" she continued. "How a man and a woman...?" I nodded. At least in a sense -- everyone's seen dogs. "That's why you're big," she ventured. Me big? At first I was lost, but then the realization hit that she knew from the front of my pants! I'd never agreed to that! "I didn't think you were old enough," she reflected. I started to get up. "Andrew," Miss Hanson looked concerned. "You just go on home now. Nothing happened." She thought a bit more. "You'll be a good dancer, though, Andrew. I liked it." All week I weighed my dilemma. Sure, I wanted to kiss her, to feel old. At the same time, she'd guessed about my penis, something I didn't want a teacher knowing. At the end, though, the kissing part won out. Miss Hanson looked surprised when I pedaled up the following Saturday. She was in a high-necked gingham dress, something she might have chosen for a picnic. "Hi. I just was biking around and I wondered if you needed any help with anything." She touched her collar and considered the offer. "Park it behind the shed. There're Mrs. Story's things still up in the attic to rearrange." The attic was hot and cluttered. She and I stacked a few trunks under the eaves, but after an incremental effort with Old Mrs. Story's third chest of drawers, Miss Hanson decided, "OK, now a dance lesson, since you're already here." In the living room, I wrapped with right and led with left and marched her around until she took charge and steered us to the back, a credit to my gained ability that we danced all the way. She looked out her bedroom window, not at me. "I'll make it swell for you. It won't hurt, I promise," her cheeks flushed. She stripped to her slip, her lack of inhibition speaking an agenda perhaps further than mine. "You can't," I protested, my eyes riveted as she slipped off her hair band. She'd never undone her hair before. I wasn't sure what she couldn't, but I knew she shouldn't. She paused, looked at me blankly, paled and said, "Oh." But then she smiled with her eyes. "You still OK about kissing? You were great last lesson!" I nodded and we sat down together. "Sweet and long," and she showed me what she meant. After a pause to re-latch mouths, she drew my hand to where it had wandered before. "We get big, you and me both, don't we?" her suggestion not as threatening as before. I wasn't sure how she knew, though, as I'd twisted in the opposite direction. "When we get big, the other wants to know it, Andrew," almost like a dancing rule. It wasn't that I wanted her to know it, but it seemed to be clear. "There's something that the girl can do that's like what you're doing to me," rolling her shoulder to make her breast drag against my fingertips. "And I'm going to show you," tugging my arm until we both fell backwards. "It's not how you make love, buddy boy, but it's part of our secret. Why you came over." Spoken with authority. Yes I struggled, but not because I was afraid. I just didn't want her knowing that I was big, how wrestling on her covers was making me bigger. The problem was that we were still kissing, even after she unbuckled me. I didn't really think she'd pull down my trousers. Even seeing the shape of my undershorts wasn't enough. She pushed them down, too. In the gaze of her room, I'd shriveled to my little size and I had only a fuzz of hair, so it wasn't as there was much to see. It hadn't been that many years since I'd not have cared, anyway. I at least knew she'd not tell. Once her fingers found me, the contest was over. I quieted and I felt myself get big again, but this time to her command. At home, I'd rubbed myself against my pillow for the friction. My buddy Clarence, anxious to share his newfound discovery, had already told me another way: "Just stroke it." I'd tried, but in the absence of mental focus, the pillow worked better. Miss Hanson made me realize what Clarence meant. "Don't!" I ordered as she acquainted herself. "Don't move," she responded and I obeyed, motionless while she closed the blinds to make the ceiling dim. Returning, she lay beside and taught me masturbation. It seemed odd, her being a real teacher and a woman, but I'd no choice. We both knew that it felt good and that I'd cooperate. It took three or four attempts before I mastered my role. At first I just jousted her hand. Then there was the time when I couldn't even stay big. Then we coalesced. Alone on my pillow, I'd never gotten further than just tickling to pleasant excitement without culmination. Miss Hanson showed me the purpose, her fingers inviting my impending wonder. Droplets that seeped free, she used to wet me. Miss Hanson's hand and the tingling below my belly were all I felt. I must have turned red when my orgasm proclaimed itself. I knew that she was happy, too, pleased that I'd found her nipple, pleased that she'd succeeded. "It's good when it happens," she encouraged, still rubbing my flaccid underside. I lay there, spent. "It means that you can make a baby someday." I knew that there was more Miss Hanson could do, things about which boys whisper, things involving no clothes for her too. But as long as she was in her underwear, I let her do what felt good. I'd bike to her house and we'd always kiss when I climaxed. I knew Miss Hanson liked to peek and wipe her palm on her slip. It was hard concentrating in Miss Hanson's classroom, my hand slipping to my penis instead to my notebook. It was hard watching her write on the blackboard, me the piece of chalk. It was hard when we'd look at National Geographics after school some days, her fingers teasing my fly, promises of the Saturday to come. But somehow, even I knew we couldn't keep it going.It was Miss Hanson's decision; I was just the kid. "Andrew, we're going to stop," she said one Saturday, without introduction. "Nothing bad's happened and nothing bad's going to happen. We're just not going to do it any more." And that was that. I guess I didn't even want more elaboration. I was positive we wouldn't be caught, but I knew that if we were, I'd get a whipping and she'd lose her job. She never said anything else, though I knew she'd sometimes watch me during examinations. She didn't really need an after-school helper, I decided. With Saturday hockey, not going to Miss Hanson's was a fillable void. I was growing up, could masturbate myself. Kids keep going. I showed Helen Klassen how and she'd do me behind her folks' garage more than just on Saturdays. Plus she'd pull up her camisole. She'd not pull down her panties, though. I'd never even seen Miss Hanson's panties. Helen didn't wear a slip. The Class of '42 was a somber lot, though of course we'd deny it. Eighteen-year-old males had assured employment, we joked. Eighteen-year-old females realized that their steady might soon be a statistic, not a joke. Most of us guys hoped to be sent to the Pacific where there were hula girls. We'd never seen the ocean. We themed our Christmas Dance around "White Christmas" by Bing Crosby. Everybody had learned the words. For the prom, though, it was "Paper Doll" by the Mills Brothers. More snappy. The girls even had life-size paper dolls cellophane-taped to the gym walls. As Flat Lake High School always did, we invited our old teachers to stop by, have some punch and see us all dressed up. Some teachers always came and some probably still remembered us too well. I'd taken Helen, but the way your buddies cut in, you really wouldn't see much of your date until afterwards, by the lake. Anyway, I was in my Sears suit, jiving about numbskull Nazis, when in walked Miss Hanson. Over my high school years, I'd seen her around town, said, "Hi, Miss Hanson," but never much else. What had happened so long ago was too far back to make any difference. I was just a kid then, sixth grade was all. Most everybody probably learns from somebody older, though probably not a teacher. She'd taught me two things not in the classroom, actually, but I still wasn't much of a dancer. Miss Hanson was in a sky blue dress that made half the girls in my own class look dowdy, at least to me. "Glad to see you, Miss Hanson," I said in my grownup voice. "Oh, Andrew," she replied, pleased to be greeted. "I was hoping. You're going into the Navy, I hear?" "Maybe be a gunner. That's the plan, anyway," I said, picturing myself in a sleeveless flak vest. "Well, you'll be a great one and we'll see you in the newsreels." "Too smoky, firing all those shells." Then the tune hit me, the one about paper dolls. "Know this one, our theme this year?" I asked, affecting a finger snap that might be used by sailors. "Of course. Mills Brothers," she said before realizing my invitation. "I can't. This is a dance for you youngsters. I'm thirty." "No you're not!" I exclaimed. Actually, it had never registered how many years she was. But shoot, I was almost in the Armed Forces myself. On the floor, nobody seemed to think it odd, me dancing with an old teacher. Politeness is taken seriously in places like Flat Lake. "You know all the modern steps now?" she wondered before I demonstrated to the contrary. Was it my doing, or hers? As I now stood above her by at least as many inches as she'd towered me, it wasn't just gravitation to old ways. But two-stepping, she leaned the way I remembered. The back of her dress even had the silky feeling of the slip I remembered. Nobody would have even noticed the gap narrow between us, rediscovery was so slow. (Maybe it was more like rediscovering discovery, if the indirectness makes sense.) Without looking down, I knew that her nipples were hard, just as she must have known about my erection. I guess we both tried not to press together to confirm, but we knew. I realized I'd moved my legs just enough apart for her hip to masturbate me. It was as if six years were nothing. "Thank you, Andrew," she said as we finished. "That was lovely. I just stopped by to see all you kids." I hoped my brush to her cheek looked like what you'd give the bride at the reception, just a momentary touch. Her hair still smelled like violets. Her hand lingered in mine just an extra second as she parted. I'd told the guys that this was the night I'd pop Helen's cherry. I knew that Helen didn't want to, but I'd probably get away with it because it was prom. That's when most kids in Flat Lake start, anyway. Parked at the lake. But petting in the family Nash, the windows too steamed to see the moon on the water, I took on Helen's nervousness. She let me undo her brassiere, but wouldn't turn for me to suck, how I'd bragged I'd get her ready. And I didn't really know what I was doing. The guys say just to follow your hormones, push it where it fits, but that implies her wanting it to fit. Anyway, Helen's expert hand got my fly open and I came on her chiffon, her virginity saved for some four-eyes who'd fail the physical. It was still early and I knew that Papa (who'd never found lasting work in California, but Flat Lake now had a tool-kit production plant) assumed I'd be fucking away into the night. I could just hear him calming Mama, "It's their prom, remember? Andrew's grown up. We're going to love having grandchildren, so why make them wait till we're in rocking chairs?" I was still wet where Helen had done me, so it wasn't that I was still horny. I was alone, always alone. At eighteen, you know. The light was on in the back of Miss Hanson's and I slowed. I wanted to tell her that she'd been my favorite teacher. I should have told her at the prom, but she'd already left. I guess I wanted her to know that for one brief year I'd been not so lonely. "Andrew!" she exclaimed, genuinely surprised at my tap. "Do come in. Sorry I'm not dressed," she said, waving at her bathrobe, more cover than the slip I remembered. I followed her to the kitchen where, as if she knew, she pulled a pitcher from the icebox. "Sorry I don't have something stronger." As an afterthought, "Navy boy." "Just lemonade, if you please, to dilute whatever they added to the punch." She laughed and sat down to see me. I could tell from her flatter form that she'd shed her brassiere. "I was pretty stupid, right?" she volunteered, her topic not needing preamble. She'd been thinking about years back, same as me. Why small-talk about gym decorations? "You were what?" she tried to calculate. "Way too young, anyway." "You never made me," I justified. I hadn't come to blame. I'd wanted her to do it every time. "That's not the point. You were too little." We sat in silence, sipping the bittersweet. "I was pretty young, too," she reflected. "I thought it wouldn't go anywhere." "It didn't." She looked at me, brow furrowed, then breathed out. "If you'd have reached inside, what I said not to do, it maybe would have. I prayed you wouldn't and prayed you would." To me it had been simpler, but I nodded. I knew that her being older was why we stopped so suddenly. When she refilled my glass, she made no effort to mask the nipple contoured in her robe. I returned to my intention. "I just wanted you to know that you were my favorite teacher." But telling her something so innocuous spoke of something else, about what part of being lonely led me to knock. It wasn't to give her an apple. "I'm eighteen, now." "I knew that when we danced. Thanks for asking me. I already said that, right?" She looked at me. "And you've never made love." The bluntness didn't seem harsh. When someone's watched you climax, even years ago, boundaries vaporize. Sometimes she'd used talcum powder on me so I'd slide smoother. Sometimes she'd sponged me clean afterwards. Sometimes when we were shelving books, other kids still leaving the room, she'd turned so they'd not see my finger on her breast. Here at the prom, so many years later, she'd felt me press her with the urge. Why lie? "Not really." She cuffed me across the table. "Relax, sailor man." "I was going to with Helen, but she..." "Said no," Miss Hanson finished. "She's got a head on her shoulders. Going to college, I'll bet. I'm glad you took a nice girl." "I'm going to college, too, afterwards," I decided. "So you didn't," she returned me to the present. "Kids drop out when they have to get married." It was OK, I agreed. "You started when we danced tonight, Andrew." She wasn't cuffing me now; she'd put her hand on my arm. "Started?" "Making love to me." Making love to her? "Oh no, Miss Hanson. You're a teacher!" "It's not about me. It's about you." It was about me. "I'll do it with some South Seas girl," I predicted. "They'll give us rubbers, the recruiting sergeant says." She knew I was bluffing before I'd finished. I wasn't thinking about a native in a grass skirt. My draw to Miss Hanson was the same as ever. "No, not for your first time." Her objection spoke to not just the physical. She let me think a moment. "It's prom night, Andrew. And I was your date." "Maybe," I reflected. She moved her hand up my arm. "We don't need to go the lake." Teachers know about their students. "To make love," she added. "But guys always want to. It doesn't mean we should'" I argued against myself. "I wanted to every time you came over. To take off my slip." "I was too little. You said so." "To make love, maybe, but you'd have been inside." "So let's just dance some more," I stalled. I guess we still had "Paper Doll" in our heads, because we didn't need the record. I'd always be a little mechanical, I realized, but she let me lead. When I pulled her against me, a down pillow. She broke the beat just once. "Andrew, it's good we're going to finish. For both of us.""Then in a more assertive tone, 'You're not going to pull it out, are you?' She could feel my head shake against her ear. I'd do it the way she wanted. 'Just wanted to make sure,' using her knee to steer me, Argentinean-style, to the room I remembered. Nobody writes much about the loss of male virginity. We're supposed to deny that we ever were. Boys at Flat Lake tend to be frustrated until they have a steady, hoping for marriage. But even if the two are both 'pure' (as they call it in church), all the focus goes to feminine surrender, even if in fact she's the one hoping to start the baby. Miss Hanson helped me with my shirt and I helped her with her bathrobe, her nightie revealing the curves I'd remembered from her slip. She helped me with my undershirt and I lifted up her hem, uncovering her white panties. Her nipples were stationary under the sliding cotton. 'You can look,' to my furtive glances. 'I'm quite normal.' Her breasts, rounder than the projection of her brassiere, were cream with darker areole. She let me test the leniency of her bosoms. After she removed my trousers, I wasn't quick enough, so she herself slipped off her panties. 'Touch me,' she suggested, unveiling her tuft of reddish gold. She didn't take my underpants, but rather pulled me onto her, letting my erection, straining against my shorts, work up the inside of her legs. I'm unsure how she stripped me, but my flesh first rubbed against her curls, then into her draw, along the wetness of her vagina, past the tightness and into the mystery. My stiffness knew without guidance. I knew what to do, if not how to do it well. My hips told when to push in and when to pull back and her response validated my motions. I'd never realized how slick a woman would feel, how well we'd fit together. I climaxed and knew that she didn't, but she seemed to accept me for what I'd given. When I withdrew (was extruded might be more truthful), she caressed my forehead not unlike how she'd kissed me after we'd first danced. 'You stayed in great!' I mumbled something about the hour, hastily redressed and never went back. I'd both proven myself as a man and failed as a lover. With Helen, I'd have cared, too, but not felt responsible. Miss Hanson, though, I'd wanted to give more than manly squirts and a messy sheet. I wanted to make her love me. According to boot camp inductees, your first broads are just for practice, anyway. Wham, bam, thank you ma'am. Maybe if I'd fucked Helen first, I'd have done better with Miss Hanson. There in the Nash, I could have taken Helen. Probably I'd disappointed her, too, making her masturbate me, not making her a woman. Did she go home, look at the chiffon dress and cry? But I'd always wanted it to be with Miss Hanson. 1946 Things work out the oddest ways. Gunnery School already had their quota, but I'd good grammar grades, so I'd be in Communications. I thought I'd hit fat city, but then found out that we're the suckers who hit the beach with the Marines, them carrying rifles and us, radios. But I never took a direct hit or stepped on a mine before the Japs surrendered and was redeployed as a Navy journalist. (It all fits under 'Communications'.) The promised hula girls turned out to be thieving Filipina hookers, so although the rubbers from Quartermaster wasn't a lie, I'd rarely opted for the freebie. I could have taken my discharge pay, but the journalism part seemed interesting and at least in uniform I could get the experience. Norway, of all places, was where the Admirals wanted press. 'Sailor, you can choose any assignment from the list provided' and I got a list with Norway. Oslo was still grim, but the citizens were free. The byline that won me the award was about the elderly Norwegians with a GI grandson whom they'd never met. This blond US Army skiing soldier slalomed to their doorstep the day Germany went kaput. He'd been in the country for reconnaissance and had figured out who they were from what his father had told him. My commander wished it had been a Navy man, however. Reporting was my ticket out of Flat Lake, the vernacular, though more accurately in my case, how to avoid a ticket back to Flat Lake. Reporting keeps you paying attention, looking for connections, letting your job consume each day's extra 16 hours. There's little time for distraction. The USO was where reporters hung out for the cheap stories, second or third hand, but maybe useful for background. Drinks were cheap. The Norwegian employee in the USO dress emerged from the phone booth and stared. 'Andrew?' I must have looked confused. 'It is you!' clapping her hands and I knew! Not the voice (which of course I knew immediately), but the eyes. 'Miss Hanson? I mean, how...?' 'Flat Lake gave me a year to serve in the USO and I speak Norwegian. It's Greta.' 'You do?' 'From my folks. Not in Flat Lake. 'Hvordan har du det?' means how are you?' 'Surprised.' And that I was. Miss Hanson, exactly the same. The sexual tie was hardly yet recalled. 'So why are you here? You kicked the Krauts out.' 'Me? I'm a Navy journalist.' 'Well this is so great, in this big old world!' again clapping her hands. Her braid was the Norwegian style, woven around the back of her head. 'Are you...?' What was I asking? 'Same as ever. You?' I wasn't sure what she'd thought I'd asked, but it seemed clear to her. 'Same as ever, too,' I ventured. The only difference was that I was in uniform. Plus I felt happy. 'Then we can dance while we catch up,' she decided. The USO jukebox was playing 'Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!' by Vaughn Monroe. 'Good grief, Andrew!' she declared as we started. Before I could apologize for my extra left foot, she laughed, 'I hope you don't write a column about ballroom dancing. Here,' as she got me in step. 'Just the one about the importance of having a good teacher,' regaining my delight. 'Heading back to Flat Lake?' I asked during a lull. Two or three enlisted men had tried to cut in, but I'd said we were together. 'My job. I fit in. Lots to keep me busy. You?' 'To get my stuff.' 'Got a girl?' 'Not enough time,' almost believing myself. Maybe after I settled down. 'Parents well?' 'Guess so. Let's dance some more.' Afterwards, I walked her back to her flat, more of a dorm for USO staff. As much of my sexual history as she'd defined, that wasn't how I saw her tonight. I'd not seen an old friend for such a long time, one who even knew my folks! And as odd as a teacher being an old friend might seem in Flat Lake, Miss Hanson (Greta, I mean) seemed that in Oslo. At the doorstep, though, an echo crept back. We'd not danced closely, but I'd felt her breasts. She, as had I, must have remembered prom night. How I'd climaxed so quickly and left. 'Miss Hanson?' 'It's Greta.' 'OK.' I paused. 'I guess I just want to say I'm sorry for showing up like that, you know...' 'And making love?' the Norwegian again. 'Yeah, that.' She took both my elbows in her hands, placing herself where I could see her. 'It was about love. You knew that.' 'Yeah, but still....' 'We're never sorry about love, at least I'm not.' 'You're not?' I wished I'd told Miss Hanson that I was sorry for being clumsy, but that I had loved her, even if I stayed clumsy. 'Andrew,' still locking my elbows, 'remember how to tell her it was a nice dance?' I remembered. 'And how a girl agrees that that was a nice dance?' head tilted. I gave her a kiss that hung there. 'And how we made love, just once?' against my lips. With the Filipina, it was connection without union. 'Come on,' taking my hand, not unlike years ago. 'Mary Ellen and Doris can sleep somewhere else.' She'd take me in again? The grad who'd run off? Had she been lonely that night, too? I followed, our fingers locked. Maybe we both were shaking a little, but it could have been the cold. Indeed, we did have three beds to ourselves, thanks to her roommates. 'This is my old friend Andrew. Really!' Naked, she looked boldly Norwegian. Back in Flat Lake, her reddish-blond seemed secretive. Here, it was as if she were leading me to the sauna. 'You're beautiful,' I stammered and she laughed at the thought. I undressed more slowly, folding my uniform in the way of GIs who do their own ironing. Her eyes told me what to next remove. 'I don't have a rubber or anything,' I admitted, wondering if she remembered what I'd said about the natives. She surprised me. 'We'll take our chances. It was just chance that we met tonight, right?' I wasn't that sure, but it was nothing that either of us could have made happen. I made love somewhat better than my performance after the prom. I should have gone slower, but I know I induced a spark when she arched and gasped. The girls I'd been with before had murmured things like, 'Come on, big boy!' or 'Oh man, make me come!' Greta wasn't verbal, speaking with alternation of her hips, trying to kiss until we both lost track of the other's face. She just grinned afterwards. 'They say that how many more times won't make a difference in baby-chances.' In Norway, she was free of Flat Lake. The second time I mounted, her heels held me and we let her wetness smooth the passages. When she moaned, it was for stroke after stroke. She stilled at the end so I could seed her deepest reaches. 'Andrew?' whispered afterwards. 'I wish we'd done this by the lake.' 'Me, too.' 'You were scared?' I told her yes. 'So was I. But I even when you were too little,' she reflected, 'I wish we'd learned together.' 'I was in sixth grade.' 'I was a virgin when I started teaching, when you came over. Maybe that's why I wanted to teach you to dance. It seemed safe.' 'It wasn't?' I wondered. 'Tell me how we'd have done it by the lake. On a field trip.' We rested, her cheek on my chest, while I chronicled a boy's fantasy."She'd have stood by the water to show the class where the glacier pushed away the land. We each must find a worn rock as evidence. I'd follow her into the pines, surprise her and strip her of her clothes. I listed each piece, how I'd undo it. I'd lay her back on a bed of pine boughs. As the other classmates passed this way and that around our hidden nest, I'd kneel between her knees and shove myself deeper and deeper inside. "The needles would be scratchy," she scolded, relishing the scratches. "OK, it was this grassy place. You called it 'Practicals'." She laughed. "C-, since I got pregnant." Again in Oslo, rested and re-entering, she yelped and pretended to buck me off. "I've got to walk tomorrow, sailor boy!" her protest belied by the elevation of her hips and the span of her knees. "Shush, they'll hear," determined to save myself until she was in full orgasm. "I want them to know, silly." At breakfast, Mary Ellen and Doris and a couple whose names I didn't get set the table with Kellogg's Corn Flakes, almost impossible to acquire in a land of oat porridge. "Doris is engaged to a captain at Allied HQ," the explanation. The others smiled at the "engaged". Mary Ellen and Doris were hunky-dory when I'd call, good-naturedly hauling their bedding elsewhere. Sometimes they'd hardly button their bathrobes to do it, Yankee breasts barely draped by their nightclothes. Some nights, Greta and I would rotate bed-to-bed. "Mary Ellen's is the quietist, but too near the door." Sometimes we'd move all three together and wrestle without plan regarding connection. On giggling occasions, Greta would slip me into the room while her roommates slept and we'd make no more noise than the swish of the sheet and the squeak of the springs. The two were supposed to be sleeping, anyway, but once I caught Mary Ellen's open eye. All she could do was grin red-handed and flutter her fingers. I never told Greta. Once when Greta and I came out, a British airman was on the parlor sofa. Mary Ellen was on his lap, facing him, the comforter draping her back not quite covering the bottom of her behind and the bare knees beneath. The two froze and pretended to chat as Greta walked me to the door. When Greta and the airman weren't looking, I fluttered my fingers at Greta's roommate. We're even, she grinned, already starting to rise and fall. Oslo was a time of freedom, a time of evenings. If I'd been born there, I'd have stayed, but my Navy papers said I was from Flat Lake and I guess I was. They say that the War changed a whole generation. In my case, though, perhaps it was more that it opened a door outward, but the same boy stepped through it. I was posted to Naples to document Sea Bees repairing chapels. I got another Sector Award and it was warmer, but I just had to do it until discharge. I fucked an Italian girl on the beach. Her family had lost most of their farmhouse when we'd bombed. I think she was about sixteen. 1950 Five years later, my GI Bill degree was still worth less to hard-line editors than what I'd learned in blue. It's not that I'd won the citations, but I knew how to sit on a story until it broke. The Portland Oregonian paid me to keep Oregonians informed about everything from timber sales to the legislature. News beats can be solitary; good reporters rarely stay married. Inside scoops come from wives looking for companionship. Maybe they want to find out something from you, even. Dinner, drinks and a Holiday Inn -- work expenses. I've got colleagues who'll only bed married women, ones whose spouses make marriage worth their while. Single chicks are the problems. So they say, anyway. Others who'll only bed married women so they needn't worry about impregnation. Lots of reporters are shits. Was I a good reporter? I was Goddamn good. Did I like it? I loved it. Did I need much else? Not really. Growing up in a place like Flat Lake, you're probably not going to go off and be a shit. It was on the radio -- Nat King Cole's "Mona Lisa". At my first dance lesson, Miss Hanson had told me about eyes, hers as present as if I'd returned. But with my parents' move to Sarasota, Flat Lake wasn't a place on the way to anywhere. I hadn't danced much since the War, but then I'd been pretty busy, my work and all. I hadn't danced much because a dancer needs a partner. Even in ballet, the great performances are with partners. In journalism, anyway, a partnership isn't two writers each reporting half a story. Both write the whole piece. I wrote features, not real stories. Probably I'd never get a Pulitzer nomination, but even if I won, my work wouldn't be as real as a piece clumsily crafted for the classifieds. A want ad is in itself a real story because as humans, we want. "Wanted. The rest of myself." Good reporters follow the leads, but I'd lost mine in Oslo. I sent Greta a Christmas card in care of Flat Lake Elementary, just a brief note telling her that I was still writing, nothing that she'd see, but still at it. That running into her in Norway was such a coincidence. "Running into" seemed the safest way to put it, the phone booth part. "Being with" was harder to work into a Christmas greeting. There was no reply, however, and a reporter senses when a lead's gone cold. 1952 I'd missed the others, but would catch my tenth reunion. Not that I had Flat Lake High School ties more than that of yearbook photos, but I wanted to remember the sameness, if just for a weekend. Some of the '42 girls (the ones I'd not known well, but now seemed less stuck-up) booked the VFW Hall for our get-together. And in towns like Flat Lake, a ten-year reunion means everyone who'd been there a decade back. Sisters stop by to see if their brother's old girlfriend still peroxides. Neighbors look in to see if that Arnold boy's really an engineer. Is Barney's nephew still an alcoholic? Nobody had heard of the Oregonian, but some had been to Colorado. I'd heard that Clarence married Helen, but didn't know they'd divorced and neither showed up. Since she'd not answered my card, maybe Miss Hanson had moved. Maybe even stayed in Norway. Or maybe she was in Flat Lake, a mom and member of the Garden Club. Not everything can stay the same. So when I saw Miss Hanson walking to the Carnegie Library (judging by the books in her string bag), I was unprepared. She'd a blond single braid, a hairstyle not seen on the West Coast except maybe for little girls. I didn't know if she'd even want me here. Me, the fade-away sixth grader, the off-to-war senior and then the disappearing sailor. She had my number. But Flat Lake's small. Marked by your rental car, you can't pretend you're elsewhere. I slowed beside the sidewalk. "Want a lift, Miss Hanson?" I wasn't sure why my heart was pounding. She looked at the strange car, the driver who knew her name. "Andrew!" too spontaneous for the sake of politeness. "Nobody knew if you were coming!" She'd asked if I were coming? "The one who's in the papers?" my attempted frivolity. "Well you are, at least in Oregon," the second syllable pronounced as "gone". In Portland, it's "gun". When she turned crimson, easy enough to see, I realized it wasn't related to the state. She'd acknowledged my card. I ignored it. "Hop in." Probably she'd been really busy that holiday season. Didn't matter. "No, that's OK. I'm almost there." I noticed the absence of a ring on her left hand. Who knows why, but I stayed. "So I need some exercise, too," pulling to the curb. "So how you been?" my awkward re-start. "Here, let me carry that." "Seventeen years at it, less my year away." She avoided saying Oslo. "That long?" to protract the conversation. Maybe I could ask her what she was teaching; sometimes they change around. "Seems like three," she laughed the laugh I liked. "Kids keep you learning things." "Like about glaciers," remembering. "Coming to the VFW tonight?" "Probably. You're all my kids and you remember your first ones best." It had never really clicked with me that I'd had her, her first year. "So what say I check if they have anything new at the Carnegie and we walk back to my car and I take you to lunch? That's if..." Actually, she'd not even asked me to walk with her. "At the A&W?" she pretended to frown. "We'll have some lemonade first." She surely remembers liquors in Oslo, I was certain, but doesn't remember she'd served me that drink ten years ago. Headed toward her house (which she'd bought, she was pleased to report) she switched on the car radio. "I like Nat King Cole," as she twirled through the one from High Noon and found "Unforgettable". "Me too," I concurred. Unforgettable is right. "So you married yet?" looking my way. "Hardly," wishing not to talk about it. She stared away. "I'm sorry I didn't answer your card. You didn't say and I didn't want to presume." I'd not mentioned the card. Was my mind that transparent? And I didn't say what? That I wasn't married? I'd left everything unsaid, actually. You don't write what you're not, not across from a smiling Santa. Maybe I just didn't want to follow the leads. We were at her driveway. "I'll just drop you off," I decided. Flat Lake wasn't my town anymore. Was Portland, though? "Because I loved you," she stated, almost voiceless and staring straight ahead. "I didn't answer your card because I loved you." I didn't move until the fullness hit. "Loved me? When?" "Then. When you graduated. Before, too. Maybe I didn't know it till Oslo, though." She was still looking ahead, not at me. I thought of those years and I wanted her to know. "I didn't know what to do," unasked. "I guess I'd never loved anybody." "Not even in Oslo?" her eyes now on mine. Were there tears? Whose, I don't know. "Then, yes." "It's part of my life, too." And there were tears, even if invisible. "Was I a little crazy sometimes?I was suddenly flooded with the lightness of those times. "That's what my roommates decided," she said, too serious to see the humor. I was thinking, the funny parts slipping away, "Greta?" She waited for me to figure it out. "Maybe what I mean is I've never known... that I've loved anybody." I caught my breath and finished. "So can it make sense that I still love somebody?" If I knew this much, maybe I'd know something. We'd not been touching, but she took my hand. "It makes sense to me. It's a big old world." "You always said that, 'A big old world', Greta." We sat together, remembering, hands still linked. "Can we... I mean, even if it's the A&W?" The thought of her opening the car door terrified me. "You dance still?" she asked, starting to sway her braid to Nat King Cole. "You're the music," I said, pulling her to me. Her breasts were still so soft. Of course I'd never hurt a woman. Physically, that is. Years of pent-up realization burst outward. If I'd spent the decade reliving her touches, replaying my virginity, remembering rolling naked in the Norwegian night for the other girls' ears, the flood might have been expected. Pent-up frustration, some might have called it. But I'd not reclaimed the story until now. What burst out was my need to be completed. Sex was just the vehicle. At first she seemed frightened. I wasn't the boy she'd erotically enslaved, the graduate she'd initiated, the lover who'd pleased her time after time on the USO mattress. I was a creature bent on consuming her. My erection was all I was. Probably I did hurt her flesh, but she didn't cry in pain. Her tears were hungry too. I forced my way into her from above, from behind, from below, denying her climax. Maybe she was forbidding the same to me, for no sooner would I prime to impregnate her, than she'd displace me and contort for yet another penetration. At one point, we bounced our bed so hard that a slat fell from the frame and we took our chances with the rest of the substructure. (Why did I think of it as "our" bed, I didn't process, but it was what she'd laid me upon the first time. I owned it. She owned it. I owned her. She owned me.) At another point, my penis was in her mouth and I was caressing as far as I could reach between her legs. My chin ploughed through her juices while my tongue probed. At yet another point, her twisting bent me, but even when it hurt, I didn't care. This wasn't about carnal pleasure; it was about conquest and surrender, both ways for both of us, the blitzkrieg of intercourse. They say at forty (I didn't believe the number, but it was true), a woman wants her love slow and floating. But Greta, like me, wanted what we'd missed. When we finally let ourselves go, slamming on the bed where she'd once manipulated my boyhood, our skin was awash with smeared semen, sweat, secretions and saliva. In Oslo, she'd still seemed older, creamy, exotically cool, almost. But here in Flat Lake a dozen years amounted to nothing as I pumped my pubescent reserve into the warmth of teenage virgin. "Oh, God. I didn't know I still could hit the high note," she said, her self-pleasure so merited. "Maybe it's my Lutheran thing, but after you, the ones I slept with in Norway, I mostly had to pretend. The girls where I lived, we'd give each other 'Acting the Big Act' scores," she smiled. "But with you, then it wasn't pretend. That's why my roommates liked to stay." I didn't smile. It made me sad, the idea of another in her bed, even there. "Then you're not going to believe this either," she said, trying to change the subject. "No, I don't. You were a sailor." "Easier plumbing, maybe," the Flat Lake maleness not wanting to admit how small the count. "It was good I went to Norway, Andrew. I had to show myself I could be pretty. It just got old, though, pretending." "You're very pretty. I knew that the first day you walked in and told us about geology." And we both knew we were at last telling the truth. Hardly anybody at the VFW recognized me, at least enough to drag me into the knots of exaggerated recollections. It didn't matter because I had Miss Hanson to talk with. "Greta" sounded odd in the setting. Fortunately, sitting in the corner where they'd stashed the parade flags, the scratches below my ear didn't show. She'd been appalled at our afternoon's carnage and I told her that we couldn't do it again until I was healed. "So are you all well yet?" she whispered while the classmate with the most kids was applauded. Six, but he'd been married three times. "I think so." She reached below the table. "Yea, I think so, too. Bet I still can, if you sit straight." "Let's dance," I said, to stop her. After the final toasts, a dozen cars made their individual ways to the lake, dispersing along the shore. From the first-love reunions I'd witnessed at the VFW, I wasn't surprised. Greta sat on my lap, facing, our bodies connected top and bottom. Neither of us wanted it to end, me as still as when in sixth grade I'd surrendered to the measure of her fingers. Now it was to the rise and fall of her vagina, milking me into her as she flushed in fulfillment. "Actually," she challenged afterwards, not bothering to redo her stockings, "you wanted me to, there under the table." "Maybe." Later that night, after comparing notes on who was who ("That was Kathleen Penner? I didn't recognize her and her last name's different. I thought she was just a spouse."), we floated, me hard and immobile within her until she jostled. When she couldn't hold back any longer and came, the ripples rolled up and down around me, shimmering. She had to have been internally raw from the afternoon's excesses. Certainly my penis felt so. But climaxing without motion exacerbated none of our abrasions; perhaps we could have loved as joyfully even inches apart, sharing just our eyes. Perhaps I'll never know completeness, but at least I know its taste. Apparently no teacher at Flat Lake had ever left at forty. What would Miss McGraw have done besides go to church? We married that Christmas in Flat Lake Lutheran because they were her family. When I twirled her around at the reception (Luther didn't worry about married couples doing it) only us nuptials knew we'd danced to "Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!" in Oslo. I'd found the 78. Atlee at the barbershop noted that my rental parked at Miss Hanson's after the reunion hadn't passed unnoticed. But small town folk can turn an eye if nobody loses money or you aren't relatives. "She's a little older, right?" as if Atlee didn't know exactly. "She'll make you a good wife, that Miss Hanson. Still pretty as a picture, if you don't mind me saying." "No sir, I don't mind one bit." He wouldn't charge for the trim; it was so I'd look like I was still from around these parts, he judged. 1969 was a tragic year, an annum that perpetuates a reporter's career. I'd gone to the Chicago Tribune and we lived just a commute westward. Greta, of course, had returned to the classroom. You don't deny what's God-given. The Kent State follow-up was only what I'd learned in the Navy -- follow the leads, assemble the pieces. It shouldn't take the press to do it, though, but that's why they have prizes. Greta and I still dance and I'm still the student. Kids these days like gyrating to "Honky Tonk Women" or maybe "Bad Moon Rising". I know because of where I go to get my stories. Probably because I stay with my Atlee-style haircut, they trust me. They're confused, these kids, practicing free love in the liberated lecture halls while others take bullets on the Green. Not wrong about the war part, but without the invincible innocence we had when we went to fight. To fight and to love. I'll never master the tango. Greta's pretty good and can induce standing sex when she leans way back, but that's just in our living room. Of course if she's in a squirrelly mood at a party and somebody throws on a 33, she can make me climax to about any tune. And that's not the worst part. She darkly suggests that a few of her closer friends know when to watch, but won't tell me who they are. I just try not to give it away with my expression. If they masturbate you at twelve, you're in for a long haul. It's just partly about sex, but that's how you remind each other. She says that her friends who know aren't fooled by my vacant smile and agree I'm great. Great at getting masturbated? I just report what I hear. Greta and I can dance to "Sweet Caroline" and "Someday We'll Be Together". There's still plenty of good music for lovemaking.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/29/dancing.txt
60,484	BikerTrash ([email protected])	Cruiser	You walk into the hotel room very happy to finally see me. A quick kiss at the door (gotta get it closed in case there is even a remote chance that someone is in the hall and might recognize you), and you walk past me into the room. Hearing the door close behind you, you begin to turn around, anticipating my arms around you and some serious kissing right there by the door. You set your helmet down on the table just inside the room door and start to spin around to see me. Before you can rotate your shoulders, I have my right hand wound tightly in your hair and am forcing you in the direction of the bed. You start to say something, but my left hand comes up over your mouth, and I hold it there firmly until forcing you down on the bed and letting go of your mouth. The message was clear - shut the fuck up! Pushing you up on the bed with a firm grip in your hair, you struggle to get your legs under you and are half crawling, half lying across the bed. I am untying your vest with my left hand and pushing up behind you with my body. You can feel my hard-on pressing against your ass as you start getting wet and pushing back against me, your vest undone. I release my grip on your hair and pull it off, reaching under you and quickly unfastening your belt and opening your jeans, pressing my body weight down heavy on top of you. You fall forward, lying on the bed. I jump up and grab your boots, pulling them off, and then grabbing your jeans by the legs. You reach back and slide your jeans over your hips, and they come off in a swift motion. Pulling your arms back up to your head, you hear the sound of my belt being undone and my zipper opening. Hearing my clothes tumble to the floor, you push backwards in anticipation of my climbing on the bed behind you. "Crack"!! My belt blisters your ass, and you never saw it coming. You jump forward but hold your ground. Two more full slaps across both cheeks of your ass with the folded belt, and you are dripping wet. Feeling the sting of your ass and bracing for another blow, you feel my weight come onto the bed, spreading your knees and relaxing (you were pretty tense while being spanked!). You tilt your pelvis and welcome what you know is coming. Your lips swollen and your pussy wet, I grab your hips and plunge fully into you with one swift stroke, feeling the heat of your insides and hearing a moan escape your lips as my grip on your hips tightens, and I pause momentarily, fully inside of you, enjoying the tight, warm confines of your very lubricated pussy. You adjust immediately and push back against me. With this sign, I start fucking you in earnest, ass slapping groin as each stroke is full, hard, and wonderful. My balls are slamming up against you at the bottom of each stroke, your boobs swaying madly as your arms struggle to keep you pushed backwards against me so that you don't go off the bed. The rough material of the hotel bedspread sends delicious shivers through your hard-as-rock nipples as they pass back and forth across the bedspread with each powerful thrust. Guttural, primal noises escape both our lips as the fucking frenzy increases to a pitched fever. Our bodies sweating and slapping together as we grunt and groan, my grip on your hips almost uncomfortable now as I am pulling you to meet my every thrust so our bodies slam together and quake with the collision. Your stomach tightening as the first orgasm rips through your body and makes every muscle contract, squeezing your pussy around my dick like a vise and urging me to bury my seed deep inside of you. My dick swelling and my speed amazingly increasing, I am dripping sweat all over you and on the verge of exploding. I crash into you one hard last time and bury myself as deep in you as I can go, swelling even larger as you can feel the cum working its way from the base of my dick, exploding powerfully in your pussy. This sends you into another convulsion of sweeping orgasms as you buck back against me and throw your head back. Your hair sweeping across your back, I grab it hard and press my body weight on you fully. We collapse on the bed, my dick still inside of you, with me lying across your back. Releasing my grip on your hair, you feel the sweat on my body as my chest lays heavy on your back. My breathing coming fast, our bodies lay still together, trying to recover, orgasm receding, breathing returning to normal. I kiss your shoulder, "Glad you could come over."	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/29/cruiser.txt
60,502	Dave's Friend	The Reunion - Part 4	Yesterday proved that Dave's wife Vanessa was truly insatiable. We spent the whole afternoon and evening trying to keep up, but even with Viagra, she kept going like the Energizer Bunny. Even the male dog, a huge Great Dane that usually was always ready, had to slink off somewhere to rest. We all finally crashed sometime around 10:00 pm. All three of us, Dave, Vanessa, and me, in a pile on the bed. I awoke to a room that still smelled of sex. I had my usual morning hard-on, but this time I had my choice of ways to satisfy my urges. Dave and Vanessa were still sound asleep. Vanessa was curled up in a ball next to Dave. We were all still naked from the night before. Although this was my first reunion with my old friend Dave, I was fascinated with his wife. Hell, more than fascinated. I could be content spending the rest of my life between her long legs, with my face buried in that smooth bald pussy of hers, sucking her inch-long clitoris. I moved up behind Vanessa and started caressing the backs of her silky smooth legs. My god, but she was beautiful. I worked my way up to her thighs with light touches. She shifted one of her legs, giving better access to the area between her legs. My fingertips lightly brushed against her anus, and she almost imperceptibly moved her ass against my fingers. A small trickle of cum emanating from her anus had dried on her ass cheek. Remnants from the night before. Then I moved my fingers along the area between her asshole and her pussy. Gently caressing this baby-smooth skin. She moved her hips ever so slowly, anticipating my contact with her pussy. But I took my time. I wanted to savor this goddess. When I finally reached the rear edge of her cunt opening, she was already leaking her juices – or perhaps it was some of the many loads of cum deposited last night. At any rate, she was sopping wet. I trailed my fingers through the goo, gently probing the opening. She moved again, as if to urge my fingers onward. Then she lifted her right leg – she was lying on her left side – and exposed herself to me. I lowered my face to her pussy, and for a moment just savored the aroma of her sex. It had to be the most beautiful pussy in the world. Completely hairless and satin smooth. Her clitoris was over an inch long, like a miniature cock, standing erect from its hood. Her outer lips were thin, barely covering the opening of her pussy. I stared for some time at this wonder before me, all the while tracing its features with my fingertips. Finally, I stuck out my tongue and tasted the salty-sweetness of her juices combined with man jizz. Slowly and gently, I put my mouth to her opening and stuck my tongue in as far as it would go and sucked her cunt. She was now lifting her cunt to my mouth. I didn't want her to awake because I knew this would also rouse Dave, and I didn't want to share her with him right now. Vanessa rolled over onto her back, and I moved with her. She seemed to be still asleep. I continued gently licking her cunt, moving with light tongue contact over her clitoris. Her breathing had increased, still no indication that she was awakening. I looked up toward that angelic face and saw that her nipples were fully erect. Those beautiful puffy nipples atop the firmest little titties I had ever seen. She was no more than an A-cup, and lying on her back, her breasts nearly disappeared, except for those wondrous nipples. I moved my hands up her flat belly, caressing the firm flesh as I went toward my goals. I cupped my hands over her breasts and gently rolled the nipples between my thumbs and forefingers. She was now thrusting her hips to meet my tongue, and purring like a kitten. No matter how slowly or gently my ministrations, she would be awake. Her eyelids fluttered and slowly opened. She looked down at me and smiled. She started to say something, but I placed a finger to my lips to quiet her. I moved upward, laying my body on top of hers. I kissed her on the lips tentatively – in all the fucking and sucking of the day before, we had never kissed. After all, this was Dave's wife. She looked into my eyes and kissed me back, this time with more passion. She sucked my tongue into her mouth. My cock was against her cunt, and she shifted slightly, and it entered her. I slowly began to fuck her, and we continued kissing. At that moment, I knew we weren't fucking but rather making love. God, I hope Dave doesn't wake up now. It was different yesterday when it was all animal lust and sex, but now I was loving his wife. I couldn't get enough of this woman. I was spellbound by her beauty, her body, and her sex. I tried to convince myself that it was just sex. We continued pressing our bodies together, moving slowly to make it last – and hoping not to wake Dave. She was clutching my ass, trying to shove my cock further and harder into her. She broke our kiss and buried her face into my neck, trying to stifle her moans as she reached her climax. I bit down hard on my lip and loosed my cum deep inside her womb. We both shuddered and held each other tight in our post-orgasm ecstasy. She whispered in my ear, "I love you. You are Dave's oldest and best friend. You guys must really care for each other to get together after all these years. I love Dave and now I love you." I looked at her quizzically. Then she said, "Oh, don't worry. I'd never leave Dave. I've had sex with a lot of men, but I never loved them. With you, it's different. I want to make love with you." Having the ground rules laid out, I think I understood what I was feeling too. I said, "I want to make love to you too." Dave finally roused from his sleep and looked over at his wife and me locked in an embrace. He said, "Well, good morning. I see you two got an early start on the day." I felt a little embarrassed, but replied, "Dave, you have one remarkable woman. I have envied you since we were kids; you always had the best. But I think you've really outdone yourself. Does she have any sisters?" He chuckled and said, "No, she's an only child. But if she had any sisters, I'd have married them too." "You greedy bastard!" was all I could say. I was still lying on top of Vanessa, and she was giggling at our conversation. "Boys, there's no need for competition. There's plenty of me to go around." She placed her hands on either side of my face and kissed me full on the lips. I tried to pull away, because Dave was now watching us, but she held on tight. It was a lengthy passionate kiss. When we came up for air, she turned toward Dave and said, "I think I'm in love with your friend. I hope you don't mind, darling." I was in shock, but Dave smiled and said, "No, after all, we are best friends." To break the tension – at least my tension – I asked what we were going to do today. Vanessa said, "I wouldn't mind just staying in bed and making love to my two men." Dave said we could do that or, since he had my help, perhaps Vanessa would like to try fucking Cisco today. (Cisco is their stud horse. Dave and I had sucked his cock two days ago) Vanessa's eyes lit up. "Great," she said, "let's go." "Whoa, girl! Let's get some food in us before we start the day," Dave said. After eating a healthy breakfast, Vanessa was dragging us, butt naked, out to the barn. First things first, we gave Cisco a bath. Vanessa paid special attention to the stud horse's balls and cock. Once he was bathed and dry, Dave and I set to work. We stacked hay bales under the horse and to one side. We covered the hay with a blanket. Vanessa was caressing the horse's flank and speaking in soft low tones to him. His dick was extended from its leathery sheath about a foot. He must have sensed what was going on, or perhaps he was reacting to the unmistakable aroma of Vanessa's aroused pussy. I know I could smell it, and I'm sure the horse has a better sense of smell than I do. Dave got a hobble and trussed up one of Cisco's hind legs. He explained that this would prevent him from getting too rowdy and hurting Vanessa. Vanessa was under the horse licking the pre-cum dripping from the horse's cock. She tried to get the head into her mouth, but it was too big. When she was ready, she lay down on the hay bales. Dave held the horse's head, and I had the honors of handing his cock. Vanessa spread her legs as far as they would go, and I placed the head of Cisco's cock against her cunt lips. I rubbed the head against her cunt to make sure it was lubed up good. Vanessa was impatient and grasped the cock and pulled it into her. With some effort, she got the enlarged head to enter her pussy.She was moaning and pulling on the cock, trying to get more. I watched as she managed to engulf nearly a foot of the cock. Her belly swelled to accommodate the monster. She was frantically fucking herself. Cisco was breathing heavily. I could see the muscles of his hips flexing and quivering. He wanted to ram his cock into this hot, wet cunt, but with his leg tied up, he couldn't. Thank goodness, because he would surely have damaged that beautiful cunt. Soon, his breathing came in snorts and grunts. I knew he couldn't last much longer. Vanessa was having one orgasm after another. She was screaming and groaning like an injured animal. I was concerned and asked her if she wanted to stop. She screamed, "God no, I've wanted to do this for a long time! Ooooh, fuck me Cisco!" She was humping against the horse cock like she was possessed. Then it happened. Cisco's entire body tensed. I watched his balls tighten against his body, and his cock twitch and spasm. The huge, muscular cock was pulsing like a high-pressure fire hose. Vanessa screamed a long, guttural scream. Her belly swelled with the volume of cum being pumped into her womb. Then her body could hold it in no longer, and white sprays of jizz blasted out of her cunt. As she continued to fuck herself on the horse's cock, which by now was beginning to soften, she kept pulling the retreating cock into her, even moving her body closer to try to stay in contact. Eventually, the dick came out of her pussy with a torrent of jizz. She raised herself, still holding onto the dick, and shoved the head into her mouth. She sucked and pulled on the cock, trying to get the last drops of cum from within. Exhausted, Vanessa flopped down onto the hay bales. Cum was running down her face, and pouring from her pussy. I looked at Dave, and he said, "You're closer." That's all I needed to hear. I knelt down and wrapped my mouth around her cunt, sucking the cum from her. When I finally had her cleaned, I continued to lick and suck her pussy. She grabbed my head, forcing my face into her crotch. She was cumming again, saying, "Oh god, I love you, don't ever stop. Please, don't stop!" Ever the gentleman, I would do whatever the lady wished. But eventually, she could take no more, and pushed my head away. We carried her out of the horse's stall and laid her on a blanket. She was totally exhausted. I bent over her face to lick the cum from her cheeks and neck. Dave had other plans, since I was on all fours. I felt his cock make contact with my ass and prepared myself. His cock entered easily (I had become accustomed to it by now). He slowly started to move in and out, but soon was really fucking me. I had cleaned all of the cum from Vanessa's face, and we were locked in a passionate kiss. She reached under me and started jerking my cock. I moved my mouth from her lips to suck her nipples. That didn't last long. She had other plans. She slid under me, taking my dick in her mouth. What a mouth! She had my entire cock in her mouth and was sucking like crazy. With one hand, she was squeezing and pulling on my balls, and with her other hand, she was pulling on Dave's balls, urging him on. I lowered my face to her pussy, taking her little dick/clit into my mouth. I sucked it and gently chewed on it. She was fucking my face, trying to get more. In our aroused states, with all of the extra attention being paid to our cocks and balls, Dave and I were cumming all too quickly. He gave one mighty shove and held his cock deep inside me. I could feel his cock pulsing and pumping jizz into my bowels. He tried to continue fucking after he came, but his rapidly softening cock wouldn't stay put. As soon as he pulled out, he stuck his tongue into my ass and sucked what he could of his jizz out. Vanessa's mouth was soon filled with my cum. She swallowed every bit and kept pulling on my cock and balls, trying to get more. We all fell to the barn floor. We lay there for nearly an hour, not quite sleeping, but resting deeply from our efforts. I was laying there admiring Vanessa's body. How lucky can I get? Here I had more than I had ever dreamed possible. I had fantasized about Dave's cock most of my life, and here it was. And Vanessa was a goddess, a very horny, kinky goddess. If I died right now, I would probably arrive at the pearly gates with a hard-on.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/29/reunion5.txt
60,767	wtatlick77	Jehovah's Witness at the Door	Years ago, my wife and I bought some land in the country with the plan to build a house. We lived in a tiny eight-foot by twenty-nine-foot trailer. I had gotten a job at a local manufacturing plant with shifts going twenty-four hours a day. In the summer, when I got home from the graveyard shift, my wife would take the kids and go to a friend's house in the nearby town while I slept, since there was no way the kids could stay quiet enough. I would get home around 8:30 a.m., have a little breakfast with the family, and then tell them goodbye when they went to town. I would strip and lay down on the mat on the floor where my wife and I slept. I always slept naked. I was sound asleep one Wednesday when someone started knocking on my door. It was just after eleven A.M. I am grouchy when I am awakened early, and I yelled out, "Who is it?" The knocking stopped, and then a quiet female voice said, "Jehovah's Witness." I thought about that for a moment, then stood up and said I had been sleeping. The woman politely said she was sorry, but she wanted to know if I had heard the word of the Lord. I thought about that for a moment, stood up, and opened the door. Back then, I had long hair and a beard. When the door swung open, I saw a woman I knew from town. She was dressed sedately in a dress with a hat to protect her face from the sun. Her husband, who had long been in a wheelchair, worked with my wife at the local hardware store. I think she was surprised that I opened the door since I had said I had been sleeping. She was certainly surprised when she saw me standing there naked. Without trying to cover myself, I said, "Well, hello, Julie. Maureen isn't home right now, so I guess you've got me." Julie opened and closed her mouth several times but didn't say anything. She was clutching The Watchtower and one of their other publications to her breast. Her breathing was elevated as she looked at my face mostly. The situation had made my cock start to get hard. She kept checking on the latest condition, it seemed, as her eyes moved up and down at my body. Finally, I said, "Well, you might as well come in, Julie. I can make some tea or something if you wish." She vacillated a bit, then took the offer of my hand as I helped her step up into the tiny trailer. She took the offered chair without a word. I took the religious publications from where she clutched them, my finger grazing her breasts as I took them. She made a tiny squeak when I did that. I put the papers on the counter, turned to face her, standing directly in front of her only three feet from her. I grinned at her. She was staring directly at my cock, which was pointing at her face and moving to the beat of my heart. "You have something you want to tell me, Julie?" Broken from her reverie, she moved her eyes up to my face and said, "Yes... I... well... Yes, I do." I leaned against the counter, looking down at her pretty face and said, "I'm ready." She looked down at my cock again, her face so red, and whispered, "Yes." I moved a little closer to her, my cock now just inches from her face. "Tell me then, Julie. What is it you want to say to me?" She appeared to be whispering then, but no sound was coming from her lips. I moved my hand forward, placed it under her chin, and tilted her face to look up at my face again. "How long has it been, Julie?" She blinked and whispered, "What? What?" She tried very hard to look at my face, but her eyes wanted to look down at my cock. I didn't release her chin and said again, "Has it been years? Have you tried to tell yourself you didn't need that anymore? That it was over for you? Live for the moment, Julie. My cock is hard because you are here. Is your cunt wet?" She was bright red now, tears in her eyes, and she spoke: "I haven't had a... a... cock inside of me in almost twenty years, but..." I traced her lips lightly with my thumb and whispered, "Your cunt is very wet, Julie. Isn't it?" She closed her eyes and after a moment nodded her head twice. "Look at my cock, Julie." She opened her eyes. I turned so I was standing sideways to her now. She looked at it from the side, seeing its length. Seeing my balls and probably thinking how much cum there was in there for her. She was probably thinking how wonderful it would be to have that feeling once again. To feel the pressure of a man's hardness as it moved between the split below, to feel it open her up inside, to feel her juices flow as they haven't for so so long. I don't know that was what she was thinking, but she seemed like a sparrow in a storm. Fragile and in need of something that she couldn't quite remember. "Stand up, Julie," I commanded. She did so and gasped as her hand 'accidentally' brushed against the tip of my cock. I saw the pre-cum shining in the room light as she looked down at the place my cock had touched her and left the wet trace. "It's your choice, Julie. Stay here and I'll fuck you. Leave here and leave your papers here and go to the next house down the road." Julie looked into my eyes and nodded her head. "Which is it to be, Julie? Are you going to stay or are you going to go?" She was silent for a moment longer, then she seemed to make a decision and whispered, "Go." I nodded and opened the door for her. I stood close to the door opening, so she had to brush past me as she stepped out of the trailer. "The offer remains open, Julie, but I think today is the only time this can actually happen." She nodded and started walking to her car. I watched as she walked unsteadily to the old car, opened the door, and sat behind the wheel. I waved to her and closed the door of the trailer. I didn't hear the car engine start, so figured she was still there. Probably ten minutes later, I heard footsteps moving to the trailer. I heard them stop right in front of the door. I waited some minutes for the knock. I rearranged the bedding on the floor so it would be more comfortable for her. I was just plumping the pillows when I heard a sharp rap at the door. I opened the door, and Julie stepped up into the trailer, not saying a word to me. I faced her and opened my arms. She rushed to me, and I pressed her against my chest, hugging her. Then she was sobbing and saying, "It's been too long. This is so wrong, I know it. This is so wrong. But it's been so so long." I put my hands on the sides of her head and tilted her face to mine. I moved my lips to hers and kissed her gently. She went crazy then and started kissing me hard, and it was her tongue that went into my mouth first. My cock was pressed up against my belly as she ground her hips against me. I held her away from me after a few moments and said, "You're an animal!" She allowed me to undo her dress. I pulled it from her body. She stood there breathing hard, her smallish breasts contained in a very chaste church lady white bra. Her panties were white too and soaking wet. I reached behind her and undid the bra. Her hand now was on my cock, moving all over it. I peeled her panties down her ass. When they reached her legs, she pulled them the rest of the way down. I could smell her cunt. She was a woman in heat. I picked her up in my arms, knelt on the sleeping mat, and lay her back so her head was on the pillow. I stood up then, looking down at her body as she looked up at mine. She opened her legs, then ran her fingers through her thick pubic hair. She was pressing her clit and looking at me. She gave herself a very strong orgasm, lying there, her hips rocking up as her finger moved into her cunt. She looked up then and reached a hand to my cock, which she could almost touch. "I want to taste it... Your cock... I want to suck your Cock!" I knelt on the floor so my cock was next to her face. She grasped it with her hand, then moved her tongue onto the glans, making the purple darker with her saliva. She opened her mouth then and lunged forward onto my shaft, taking it all the way down her throat. She fucked my cock with her mouth, her hand on my balls. I moved my right hand to her dripping bush. My middle finger traced the split inside. I moved my finger tip up and down her slit, then as her hips rocked against my hand, I slid my finger all the way into her long-neglected cunt. She pulled away from my cock and said, "Now, Peter. Now! NOW!" She came hard against my hand. Her nipples, nice and brown and hard, were standing up beautifully. "How do you want it the first time, Julie? I can fuck you just like this while you are on your back if you like. Maybe you would like to have me on MY back so you can move as you wish. Or perhaps on your hands and knees as I fuck you from behind.""It's your choice, Julie." She considered all that, then asked, "Do you think... there might be a chance... Do you think we could do ALL of them?" I smiled and said, "Spread your legs, Julie!" She did that as I asked. I didn't have to tell her to hold her thighs apart; she did that on her own. I moved my groin to hers and said, "Hold my cock, Julie, and guide it into your cunt." She grasped my cock with both hands, looking down at the tip wildly as she directed it to the slippery slit that had been empty for so long. As the tip slipped into her, she groaned and released my shaft from her fingers. She stared at the place we joined and watched as I slowly pushed each inch into her hole. My cock nestled down into the deepest part of her. I let her get used to the feel of it. Waited for her to signal she wanted movement. "Oh my fucking god, Peter! Fuck me!! FUCK ME!!!" I lay my chest against her breasts and put my hands under her ass. I fucked her cunt HARD. She cried and laughed, her tears making the side of my face wet. She screamed a litany of the word: "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! FUCK! FUCK!" She moaned, then asked if I was going to cum inside of her. I told her that I could think of nothing else to do. She whispered then that she wasn't on birth control. I raised my face above hers and said, "I had a vasectomy three years ago, Julie. My semen will have no seed in it. You're safe with me." She grinned wickedly and said, "Fill me up with your cum, Peter. Pump it deep into me. Fill me UP!" So I did, gladly. I pounded her juicy cunt faster now as she cheered me on. I've always loved the sounds of fucking, but I think this was the juiciest fuck I had ever been part of in my life. When I was ready to shoot off in her, I said, "Here it comes, Julie. I am going to cum.... RIGHT NOW!" I felt my cock pulse inside her as my semen blasted into her cunt. I moved into her, saying 'Now' each time I spurted in her. When I was through, I collapsed onto her body. She had her arms around me, caressing my flesh. I kissed her gently, then looked down at her face. She had the look of a woman who had just been fucked. She asked then when Maureen would be back home. I looked up at the clock and said, "She'll be home in about five hours. We have plenty of time if you want more." She smiled and replied, "Oh fuck yes, I want more. How do I get your cock hard again, Peter? Could I suck on it? Would you like that? I haven't had a cock in my mouth forever." I laughed and said, "Sure, Julie. If you want to suck on it now, there will be bits of me and bits of you on my cock, but it is a mess right now. Do you want to suck my cock now when it's all covered with our juices? I'm kind of soft right now, but I'm sure it would be hard very soon if you sucked it." She said, "Oh please YES!" I pulled out of her, and semen flowed out of her cunt onto the mat. "I want to be on my knees... would that be all right, Peter? That would feel so... slutty." I said sure, but added, "I hope you understand. Your cunt is very full of my cum. I want to take your panties, which are soaked already anyway, and push them into your cunt so no more of the semen and cunt juice pour onto the mat. Maureen and I sleep on that mat. She would not be happy if she knew I had fucked you." Julie looked delightfully scandalized by that idea. I took her panties and stuffed them into her cunt before she got onto her knees. She was the quintessential slut there on her knees, her nipples hard as she looked up at my softened, slimy cock. It was in a reduced state when she took it into her mouth. Her tongue moved all around the juicy shaft. I could hear her swallowing what she found coating it. I held her head still, and we looked into each other's eyes as the blood started pulsing in my prick. I could feel my cock swell inside her mouth. Her eyes opened wide as it thickened and lengthened and moved down into her throat. She moved her head back and forth on it, savoring the feeling of fullness in her mouth and throat. It was almost like a magic trick had been performed. Something slimy and soft had gone in, and now as I pulled back, my cock was as large and hard as it had been before we had started fucking. "How do you want it, Julie?" She said, "I want to mount you this time. On your back, Peter. I want to slide down onto this beautiful cock." I lay on my back and watched Julie's breasts sway as she maneuvered her body over me. Just when she was inches from my cock, I pulled the sodden panties from her cunt. Semen and cunt juice flowed down onto my groin. Julie got the tip into her, then slammed down hard onto me. Her crotch went splat against all the love juices there. I held her hands as she worked her cunt up and down on my cock. She came the first time just a few minutes into the fuck. She fell over onto me, her cunt muscles squeezing my shaft as her orgasm took over her body. When that was done, she was still impaled on me. Now she put her hands down on my chest and moved her hips back and forth as she slid up and down the shaft. I had my hands on her ass, feeling where her furry and prominent mound started the swell from her body. My fingers were covered with cum. As she moved up and down on me slower this time, she seemed to be feeling each inch of me as my cock stayed steady for her as she took it all into her cunt. My right thumb was juicy, and I moved it so that it would press against her little rosebud. She liked that and stayed down, wiggling her ass against my thumb. I pushed onto the sphincter, and my thumb popped up into her ass. She screamed at that, "Have you ever done that thing?!" I asked what thing she meant. "That thing where your cock goes in right there where your thumb is now?" I said, "Sure, lots of times. Do you want me to stick my cock into your ass, Julie?" She looked kind of embarrassed but nodded her head rapidly as she said, "MmmmMmmm... yes, please." I told her to pull off of me and then said, "Hold your ass cheeks open, Julie, and I will guide my cock right there." She leaned slightly forward and pulled off my prick. She put her hands back and opened her ass cheeks. I pressed the head against that tight opening and put my hands on her hips. "Are you ready, Julie?" She bit her lip and nodded her head. I pulled her ass hard down onto my cock, which was so slippery it slid all the way into her hole. She held her hips down then, wiggling them back and forth, feeling the presence of me deep in her ass. Then she started moving up and down hard. I watched her tits jiggle each time she slammed down onto my prick. She moved faster and faster until finally I said I was going to cum. That made her move even faster. I shot my hot semen up into her ass. She fell forward onto me, sobbing against my shoulder, still impaled by my cock. We fell asleep for a while then. I woke with her snoring softly on top of me. I saw the clock said there was about an hour until Maureen got home. I prodded her a bit, and Julie woke up with a start. She looked down at me curiously, like I was a dream that had moved into the real world. Then she gasped and said, "Oh my God! We shouldn't have done what we did. I can't believe we did what we did." She stopped then and was quiet. Then she smiled down at me and said, "Oh, we did it... didn't we, Peter?" "Yes, we did, Julie, and if we don't want a world of change, we need to get cleaned up and get you on down the road before Maureen and the kids get here." I had to give her a pair of my briefs because her panties were a sodden, delicious mess. We traded underwear. I hid hers in a special spot. We took a quick shower together. Julie dressed up so she looked like a Jehovah's Witness lady again. She said, "Thank you, Peter. I really must run along now." I found out some time later that she kept going door to door that day. This was a dedicated lady. END	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/83/jehovahswitnessatthedoor.txt
60,946	Pauleena	Stavronis Chronicles	You could say that I was born under a bad sign. My old man and my ma were both drunks and druggies. My Pa said it was his time in 'Nam that made him the way he was. My Ma said it was my Pa who made her the way she was. Pa liked to feel my sister up when he was smashed or high, and my Ma didn't care, as she was mostly out of it. He used to beat up on me if I spoke out of turn about it. My sister Ariana and I were real close. We had to be. We had to look out for one another. We spent a lot of time together, as we didn't really have a lot of friends. We used to pretend to be these two characters from a comic book, Princess Aniara and Lord Ranthus. She ruled over the planet Okron, and he was in command of her army! Together they had many adventures. They went through hell and back together. We could identify! These two were lovers as well. So were we. We didn't have anybody else. As a result, from hugging and cuddling up for comfort, we got into other things, so that from when I was ten, we were pretty active sexually. Except, looking back, no way did it seem like adult sex, even though when I was twelve, I fucked my fourteen-year-old sister. It just happened naturally, even though Ariana took the lead. You could say she fucked me, really. It was on my birthday that she said it was a birthday gift! After that, we did it when we could for a couple of years, lots of other stuff besides. When I was fourteen, I ended up in Corrections for pushing. Down on the old State Farm, I learned to suck cocks and take it in the ass and give it too. Learned it and liked it. Might as well be honest about it. Might as well confess straight away to being an incestuous bisexual, 'cos that's what I am! I also developed a good strong body, working outdoors in the fields and working out in the gym besides. Got out when I was sixteen. My Ma and Pa were both dead, and my sister was gone, and nobody knew where. Another family was living in the apartment. I went into Sanguinetti's Hardware, and Errico Sanguinetti, the son of the owner, was a pal of mine at school, and there he was, helping out in the store. He told me Ariana had gone off with a gang of bikers. So that was that. I had an aunt, Lola, my mother's sister, who lived in an old frame house on the edge of town. She'd never have anything to do with my mother once she married my old man. Lola said he was a no-good bum who'd only give her grief, and she sure as hell wasn't wrong there. Not that she had a conventional lifestyle herself. She was an old hippy who'd been a groupie with a few West Coast bands and then a singer. She could play the guitar pretty good as well. Anyways, I showed up at her place, and she took me in. She grew her own grass, just enough for personal consumption, which she gladly shared with me. Fine nights, we'd sit on the porch, toking a good fat joint. We'd get high, then roll into her bed. She was about forty-five. But she was still good-looking, although she didn't wear makeup or go have her hair done or anything like that. She had long, but long, brown hair, which came down to her butt when she let it down, but usually, she had it in a big plait, coiled up on her head (I used to like to let her hair down and stroke and brush it and bury my face in it). She had green eyes and a good-shaped mouth. She was about 5'7" and slim. Her tits were shaped like gourds, with big nipples and a bit slack, she had a flat belly and slim, sinewy arms and legs. She dressed in the old hippy way, wearing long, loose-flowing dresses, sandals, and underneath, just a pair of panties. As I said, when we were high, we'd roll on her big bed, get our clothes off, do a lot of laughing and kissing and tonguing (and she was good at it) and feeling. She liked to feel my hard body and kiss me all over, but there was no fucking, not really, although she did give me a tit-fuck now and then, me astride her, and she pressing and rolling my stiff cock between her long tits while I pulled and stroked and twisted her nipples, and she'd bring me off that way. And she did go down on me sometimes and suck me off, and I gave her pussy the same in return (although it was always a big production to get her panties off) until she cried out in delight and twisted and rolled with pleasure. But the rule was strictly no penetration, and I kept to it. That'd be incest, she said! That sure gave me a laugh! She used to go to gigs and clubs, and now and then, she'd bring back musicians, guys she'd known from the old days, and we'd all smoke together, and she and the guy would go to her room, and I would hear laughter and the bed rattling, so maybe she got properly fucked by them. Which was all right by me, seeing as I used to get my rocks off with guys from the gym! She had a beat-up old station wagon, and I was soon driving it. She said I was welcome to use it whenever I liked. Now I had wheels, I got me some tools and did a bit of gardening, yard work, and tree doctoring round and about to keep in shape and earn some bread. Always did a good job, gave satisfaction. Went on like this for about three years. Apart from the dope, I kept myself clean. Used to go down to Eddie Margolios Gym and do weights. Did some kickboxing and Tae Kwan Do and that good ole All American Graeco-Roman wrestling. That was my downfall, you might say. One night at the gym, Eddie's all excited. "Hey, boys, guess who's visiting tonight." Various ribald suggestions were made. "None other than Jay Ovbridger the Third," he says. "On the lookout for talent." Guys are whistling like they're impressed, after all, Jay Ovbridger WAS Graeco-Roman wrestling with his personal team of Olympic stars past and present and his stable of hopefuls and, of course, his endless supply of cash. The long and short of it was that Jay Ovbridger took a fancy to me and invited me to join his outfit. So I said good-bye to Lola and took off for a new life. Ovbridger had places all over the States and elsewhere, and one of them was a ranch and training camp up in Washington State in the Blue Mountains southwest of Pendleton. There was every facility for athletes and a luxurious ranch-house complex for Ovbridger, his personal staff, and his friends and guests. The wannabe wrestlers' quarters were somewhat more spartan. It was an all-male set-up. Ovbridger gave big parties, which were really just gay fuck-fests. Drink and substances of all sorts were available in unlimited quantities. There were wrestling matches where the winner got to fuck the loser in public - it was, so Jay said, all in the best traditions of Greece and Rome. He was also into cross-dressing. He liked to dress up as a woman. Then he liked to be raped. And that's how it happened. That night, I was his chosen partner. I was high on dope; he was high on smack. He looked gorgeous in his designer dress, big hair wig, all made up. The scenario went like this: He was in his bedroom, sitting at his dressing-table and about to prepare for bed when I came in through the window, all in black, ski-mask on, wrestled him onto the bed, ripped open his frock, tore off his silk teddy, got him down on all-fours, and fucked him. Well, part of the act was that he liked his partners' hands pressing around his throat, throttling him almost to death, that really got him off like it does some people, but that's a trick that needs skill and careful judgment. I'd done it to him several times before, but that night, I guess I pressed too hard. As I said, we were both out of it, really. Anyway, he snuffed. I did what I could, and I didn't panic, sent for the paramedics and the cops, co-operated. So I copped a plea of involuntary manslaughter, and a lot of scandal was kept under wraps. Drew 5-10 in the State Pen. Kept clean, kept fit, did my time, didn't stop me getting cut up by some crazy bastard 'cos I wouldn't suck his cock. Got a scar down my face and neck to show for it. Spoiled my looks, ain't no cosmetic surgery in the slammer. Anyway, I got paroled after seven. On parole, I did everything by the book, lived where I was told, worked where I was told, kept away from drink, drugs, bad influences, established a good rapport with my parole officer. When I was discharged, I'd got some money saved, and I'd got a yen for the old places, for Lola, but most of all for my sister Ariana. Don't know why, hadn't seen her since I was sixteen, and there I was, pushing thirty, and what's more, I had no idea where in hell she might be. To be honest, there was another reason I wanted to get out of there. When I got out of the slammer, I'd got involved with this woman, Tonya. I'd met Tonya in the Pen.She was an art teacher whose specialty was art therapy. She gave art classes to some of the cons. I signed up for the classes and also acted as a model sometimes. I met up with her again when I was on parole and did some more modeling at her evening classes. We met socially as well. I spent the night at her place now and then, when she wanted fucking that is. That was the kind of relationship we had. When she was horny, she was what I'd call a fast and furious fucker, and I was just a cock to her that gave her orgasms to order. She was in control. I suppose controlling me gave her more pleasure than just using a dildo. Anyway, when my parole was up, I made the mistake of moving in with her. She was all for it, but we didn't share a room. Tonya said this was the best way because sometimes I worked night shift at the machine shop. That didn't stop her waking me in the daytime if she was home and feeling horny, though. But she wasn't the real trouble. The real trouble was she got a daughter, Lisha, fifteen, thereabouts. She was a wild child and nothing but trouble. She was quite tall but thin. She'd suffered from anorexia since she was twelve, so Tonya said. She'd had treatment and was supposed to be recovered. Been away for about eighteen months in a special clinic. She had long spindly legs, which looked longer because she wore short skirts, and thin, matchstick arms. She had short black hair and a thin, pale, mean face with a thin-lipped mouth but big round brown eyes. The way the pupils were dilated a lot of the time, I was pretty sure she was some sort of dope-head too. She never wore makeup. She gave me the creeps. Surprisingly, to say she was so thin, her tits were well developed, and she always wore tight tops and sweaters and a push-up bra. When she was dressed, that is. The push-up bra was because although they were well developed, her tits were strangely droopy for a girl so young. I couldn't help but notice this. She was always mooching around the house in her wrapper, and when her ma was out of the way, she'd let it come open for my benefit. She always had panties on, but I won't say those hang-down tits didn't get me a hard-on. She knew what she was doing, and sometimes she'd push them up in her hands and rub her nipples with her thumbs, smiling at me all the while. Then one morning I got home from night shift. I was taking a shower just like I always did. One of those old-fashioned showers over the bathtub with a curtain to pull along. I'm in there washing my hair when I feel fingers playing with my dick. I shout out, "Hey, what the...." Thinking maybe Tonya's home and horny. Rinsing my face, I look down and see skinny fingers with black-painted nails. I know it's Lisha. She takes her hand away, and when I pull the shower curtain back, she's gone. I finish washing and drying myself. Put on a clean pair of shorts and head for the bedroom to get some sack-time. Just settling down when Lisha gets in beside me. She presses up real close, and she moves her hands over my chest lightly, which gets me going. Then she presses her mouth to mine and pushes her tongue into my mouth. "You got a good dick on you Pauli," she says, tweaking my nipples. "I'm going to play with your dick Pauli." I'm moaning and gasping. So I couldn't help myself. I was kissing her and fondling those big loose hang-down tits, squeezing at the nipples. My dick was hard as iron, and she got it out of my shorts, and she was running her fingers up and down the shaft. I wanted to get a hand between her legs and play with her pussy, get my fingers into her slit and rub her clit. However, she got her panties on still, and she pushed my hand away when I tried to pull them down. She told me she'd got her period. Then she sort of pushed me back and leaned over me, and I was licking and sucking her stiff nipples, and she got going and jacked me off. Then as I jumped and bucked and shot my load onto my belly, she kept on working away until she drained me out, and then she sort of laughed and jumped off the bed and ran out the room. She was a real piece of work was Lisha, a real slacker. Didn't spend much time in school. She had a special friend, Shona. Shona was younger, twelve maybe. She was a nice-looking young Nubian, just budding up to puberty. She worshipped Lisha, that was plain to see. They were always together. One morning I'd just showered and was heading for my bedroom with just a towel round my waist when I heard them talking and laughing in Lisha's room. The door was partly open, so I sneaked up and took a peek inside. They were sitting side by side on Lisha's bed. They were stripped down to their panties. They had their arms round one another, and they were kissing and playing with each other's tits. Lisha's loose swingers and Shona's hard little apples. I was getting a hard-on under the towel, and I'm getting excited, and I move closer in. Just then Lisha looks up and sees me. "Say, come on in Pauli," she says. "Come on in and join the fun," she laughs. I sort of hesitate, and she gets off the bed and comes over and gets hold of my arm and pulls me in. She shuts the door behind me and snatches at the towel, pulling it off of me. My dick is standing up, stiff and proud. "Looks like you're ready for some action Pauli," she says. Shona laughs. I sit down on the bed. "That's it Pauli, relax," Lisha says, "Shona and me, we look after you real good." Shona gets off the bed and pulls her little red panties off. God, the sight of her makes my dick quiver. Flat little belly, plump hairless little mound. I moan out; I can't help it. I should get out of there, but instead, I lie back on the bed. Lisha gets this packet of rubbers, the kind that are different colors and lubricated with fruit-flavored gels. She tears open a sachet and gets this bright blue rubber on to my dick. She certainly knew how to do it. "Shona loves blueberry, don't you Shona," she laughs. "Blueberry candy sticks." Shona laughs too, "Mmm, I sure do love to suck those big stiff candy sticks." And she gets astride me with her tight little butt on my belly, and then she's got her mouth over the head of my dick, and she's sucking away, gripping the base of my shaft and licking and sucking. She's a real head artist. As she moves forward, she raises up her butt, and I can see the lips of her tight little pussy. And then Lisha gets her panties off too; she's got a dark bushy muff, and she gets on the bed and gets astride my head, and she pushes her pussy down over my mouth. And she holds the outer lips open. And I push my tongue into her slit, which is moist and damp, and I find her clit and tease it with the tip of my tongue, and that makes her wetter, and I love that musky taste, and she's squirming as her clit gets hard as I lick. And Shona's working on my dick, which is like iron, and I put my hands up and grip Lisha's tits and squeeze and press them hard and twist the nipples. And Shona's moving faster and faster, and my dick jerks, and Lisha cries out, and her swollen clit quivers, and she cums and cums, and at the same time, I shoot my lot into the rubber. Just then, we hear a car pull onto the drive. Lisha jumps off of the bed and pulls me up and hurries me out the room and shuts the door. I leg it to my bedroom and I'm about to dive into bed when I realize I still got the rubber on. I turn round and get into the can, pull off the rubber and flush it away. Then I get into the shower. I hear the bathroom door open, and Tonya's voice saying, "Don't be long, honey, I need your body. Hot day like today is making me real horny." There's no escape, and soon I'm on the bed, and she's riding me like she's never had a fuck in a long time. I'm lying up against a pile of pillows, and I see Lisha and Shona standing just outside the open bedroom door. They're grinning, and Lisha has a hand between Shona's legs, playing with her pussy. That makes me take an interest because up until then, I was just letting Tonya have it all her own way, but now I grab at her tits and pull the nipples, then I get fingers into her slit and give her clit some serious attention. Soon she's crying out and shouting "Fuck me, lover, fuck me, fuck me, ohhhhhhh yesssssss yesssss," and she jumps and shakes and twists and cums and cums, and I shoot off in big jets.Her face is made up with matte white makeup, and on her big lips, she has bright red lip gloss. She has a lot of purple eye shadow and thick black eyeliner. She's not young, no way, but she'd sure make a good fuck, I'm thinking. Just the thought of those big ripe fruits dangling down over a man's face made me feel even hornier. "What do you want, Stan?" she says, not too pleased. "This guy says he's looking for Ariana Stavronis. Says he's her brother," Stan says, grinning and showing those big horse teeth again. "Is that so, buster?" she says to me. "And who might you be?" "I'm her brother Paul," I say. "Is Ariana here? Do you know her?" "No, she ain't here," she says. "But I know her alright. Ain't that so, Sam?" "That is surely so," says Sam. "You sure do know her." He's grinning again. Terri's looking me over real close. "Her brother, eh? Well, looking at you, I'd say you could very well be," and she smiles. "And you know, Pauli, me and Ariana was talking about you only the other night. The other night, would you believe? She was feeling real down, and I was reading the cards for her and telling her things was going to change soon. And she said, 'Hey, perhaps Pauli's coming back to find me.' Yeah, Pauli, she's told me a lot about you," and she smiles again, "Anyway, you just wait out back, and then Stanley here will drive us over to her place. Oh, and by the way, why don't you call me Terri?" "Okay, Terri," I reply, "And thanks." I'm feeling all strange and kinda excited and kinda bushed as well 'cos it sure has been a long day so far. And who woulda thought I'd find her just like that. Better than advertising on milk bottles!... THE STAVRONIS CHRONICLES: A Saga by Pauleena Part 2 ...I find my way round to the parking lot at the back of the store and sit down on a low cart used for unloading stuff and try to make sense of it all. Talk about fate, destiny, and kismet, call it what you like, I can't get my head round it. After about fifteen minutes, the back door opens, and four women come out laughing and talking. One's a tall, well-built colored girl, a real looker, she had long hair braided and beaded. Two of the others looked Hispanic, Mex probably with dark complexions, the fourth was the oldest, a thinnish wiry Caucasian with graying hair cut real short. They looked over at me, and the black girl shouted out "Hi Pauli," and they all had a good laugh. "Hi girls," I go, and they laugh some more as they head off across the parking lot. After they go, the door opens again, and a young gangly guy shoots out and runs off towards the women. The older one turns and shouts out "Hey, slow down, Earl, you gonna need all your energy for screwing Terri tonight." He catches up to them and puts a hand on one of the Hispanic girls' butts, and I hear him say "Naw, tonight it's Conchita's turn," and they all laugh again. There are three cars on the lot, two with guys in waiting, and the black girl and the older woman get in, and there's a lot of shouting goodnight to one another, and then they're off. The other three walk on together. Another twenty minutes or so goes by, and then out come Terri and Stanley. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Pauli, but Stanley will drive us round to Ariana's place, which ain't far anyway, and then you'll know the wait was worth it." She puts on a headscarf, black with silver thread. Stan meanwhile pulls down a steel shutter over the door and locks it. "Okay," he says, "Let's go." The last car on the lot is Stan's, a beat-up Olds in need of a paint job and a lot more by the look of it. He opens the rear door with a flourish, and Terri gets in. I get in the front passenger seat next to him, and we're away. Like Terri says, it ain't far, and soon he's pulling up in a quiet street lined with trees. He puts a hand on my knee and presses gently. "Nice meeting ya, Pauli, hope everything's going to be alright with you and Ariana, see ya again soon, I hope," and he sort of leers. "Thanks, Stanley," I say, getting out. "Nice meeting you too." Terri's making a move, so I open the door for her. And she gets out, showing me plenty of leg right up to her fat white thighs above the black stocking tops. "Goodnight, Stanley," she says, "Don't be late tomorrow." He grins and drives off. The place we stopped at is a conversion job on what was an old brownstone. Terri leads off up a flight of stone steps and unlocks the heavy street door into an old-fashioned lobby. When I say conversion, I mean it's been split into three apartments, and most of the fittings left as they were. "Ariana's up on the second floor," she says as we get into an old-fashioned elevator about the size of a dumbwaiter, which pushes us close together, pushes her big tits up against my chest, which ain't unpleasant, "and I'm on the floor above, cozy ain't it," and she laughs a throaty, sexy laugh. The elevator shudders to a stop, and I get out, and so does she, leaving the gate open. "Here y'are," she says, pointing at the door with a plate saying Ariana Stavronis. I'm standing there hesitating. "Don't be shy, Pauli, here ya go," and she rings the bell. After a while, the door opens on a chain. "Hey, open up, Ariana, it's me, Terri, and I got your brother Pauli here." The door opens, and this woman, my long-lost sister it has to be, is standing there all amazed. But the thing is, we knew one another straight away, and we was in one another's arms, laughing and crying all at once, and she pulls me in through the door, and I hear Terri saying, "Goodnight, Pauli, see ya, see ya, Ari, can't stop, got things to get ready, got company coming, I hope," and she laughs that sexy laugh again, and the door shuts behind us. And after that, it was all laughter and tears and touching and kissing and talking, but she could see I was out of it almost, and she says, "My God, Pauli, what a miracle, oh Pauli, Pauli, all that time to make up," and she's kissing me and kissing me, "But say you need rest," and she takes me to a bedroom. "Here y'are, Pauli, you have a good sleep, we'll talk in the morning. Oh, thank you, God, thank you. Goodnight, God bless, darling Pauli," and she smothers my face in kisses again. And I get my clothes off and get under the quilt, and I'm so dog-tired I go out like a light, and next thing I know, it's morning already, and I'm busting for a leak, so I get up and go to the can and then back into bed and get down under the quilt for another sleep when I hear the door opening, and she's standing by the bed in just a big old tee-shirt which just comes down to the top of her fat white thighs (God, but she's big!), and she says, "Good morning, Pauli, you sleep okay?" and she leans over and kisses me on the mouth, pushing her tongue in, "That's a sweet good morning, sisterly kiss, Pauli. You wake up now 'cos I'm feeling real horny," and she pulls the quilt off of me, "My, you look good, Pauli, you sure look good, brother mine. God, what a body you got! You wake up, you hear, because you got work to do. I got a fancy, and that fancy's for a good ole brotherly fuck." And she pulled her big tee-shirt over her head. Her tits were big and swollen up like two white melons, the skin was tight, and a network of little blue veins was visible running out and up from the brown areolas surrounding her prominent nipples. She had a small silver ring through the nipple of her right tit. She sure had put on weight since I last seen her, and she had a nice big round belly so that the little black panties she was wearing were stretched full across the bottom of her belly and hips, not covering much more than her slit, and she pulled them down, let them drop, and kicked them away. She was shaved down there, though, and I could see the lips of her slit below the big mound. She did a sort of pose at the bottom of the bed, one hand behind her head, one on her hip, then she turned round and showed me her big white ass and, laughing, bent forward and pushed it out. She had a rose tattooed on her left buttock. Watching all this had made my dick come up in a big erection sticking out of my shorts. Then she climbed onto the bed and got over me and got hold of my dick, which was standing straight up, and pushed it into the lips of her slit, which was all wet and slippery, pushing the skin back and rubbing the purple head up and down her slit a few times. "Lie back and relax now, Pauli, 'cos I'm gonna give you a fuck, Pauli, just like the old days at home, remember, Pauli, remember those good old days back home?" "Hey, hey, wait up, Ariana," I protest, trying to get my dick back into my shorts. But she grabs it, and she laughs."And she laughed some more and pushed her tits up with her hands. "And you'd get a hard-on and I'd want you to get it in me, and I'd get on top and rub your dick in my slit. And sometimes I'd suck your cock and I liked rolling it in my mouth, but you didn't want to fuck proper and we didn't until that night. Your twelfth birthday when all Pa had given you was a good belting when you tried to stop him feeling me up, and I got on you and before you knew it your dick was in and you popped my cherry. My cherry you had it, Pauli, you had it on your birthday, a gift from me to you with love. I was fourteen and it hurt but God, Pauli, I got to like it and I ain't never stopped since. We had two good years, you and me. Jeeeez the things we did together until you got caught pushing and they put you in Corrections and Ma died by inhaling her own sick and the old man went ape-shit on acid and hung himself from the landing, Jesus Chrise I remember him dangling there in his shirt with a big hard-on jutting out and I went off with Brad Pixon, the big biker, the one you pushed for, and his Chapter, and they gang fucked me all six of them first night to initiate me they said, and we moved about plenty and lived any old way and I had kids, a coupla kids and they got put in care..." "Hey Pauli, I could go on all day but right now I want to fuck and fuck and fuck, so come on, let's cut to the chase." She got hold of my shorts and pulled them off, then got hold of my dick again and gave it a few jerks to get it back up to speed, which didn't take but a minute. It was all hard and stiff-standing, and she came down over it and it slid up her hot, moist cunt, and she leaned forward with her long black hair falling over her face, and she kissed me and pushed her tongue in my mouth, and her hands were pressing on my shoulders. Her big tits were hanging down, and I gently fondled and squeezed her nipples and pulled gently on the ring in the right one, and she was moving up and down, up and down on my dick and gripping it with the muscles of her cunt. And she ran the fingers of one hand over my nipples, which made my dick go even harder inside her, and she kept on kissing and working away. I slid my hands over her big belly, tracing little circles with my fingertips, and I got one hand down between her thighs, my hand covering her cunt, and slid two fingers into her wet, wet slit and found her clit, and it stiffened up under my finger. I rubbed my finger up and down it, and she moaned and moaned and moaned, and suddenly she threw her head back and leaned her body back, and she cried out, "Ohhhhh Pauli, my lovely long-lost brother, my brother-lover, I'm your sweet sister, fucking, fucking, fucking you as only your loving, loving sister can, and ohhhhh Jeeesus I'm cummin', cummin', cumin'." My dick was throbbing, and that great feeling filled me up, and I pushed up from the bed, pushed my dick right up as I came, and shot my lot in a sudden hot spasm, and she shook and trembled and pressed down hard, hard, hard on me as she went off in a convulsion of shaking. Tears flowed down her cheeks, and I kissed those salty tears, the salty loving tears of my dear, dear, sister-lover just like all those years ago when we were a couple of frightened kids. We only had each other for comfort, and the only love we knew was what we gave each other, and I knew that this was the best and that I might go away again and that I would fuck men and suck men but that I'd always come back and that our love would go on and on, nothing could stop it..."The Good Lord had told Marko that we were to be freed of our sins and our sinful bodies and put on glorious new ones on the next Good Friday, and we had to make preparations fast 'cos we only got 'bout six weeks. So we cleaned out the old bunkhouse on the place, took out all the old bunks and the junk that had gotten shoved in there and burned the lot in a purification, and white-washed it up, and this truck came with a load of metal army cots (which had to be painted white) and mattresses, and they were all lined up in a row, and new white bed linen was put on, and we were all given new white robes. The last Thursday night, we all had to bathe and wash our hair to get really bodily cleansed (supervised by Sister Angelina) ready for our spiritual cleansing the next day. That night, we bedded down on the prayer-room floor in the main house, and we were told not to leave the prayer-room, and the main door was locked on us. About one in the morning, I woke up suddenly, and there was Brother Johanan gently shaking my shoulder. "Get up, Ariana, quickly, get your clothes on, warm clothes, you're wanted to help prepare the love-feast for tomorrow," he said. One or two others woke up, but he told them I was wanted by Brother Marko and to go back to sleep. I did as I was told, and he led me outside. I didn't ask questions; anything he told me to do, I just did it. When we had gotten outside, he said, "We've got to get away from here, Ariana, fast, something bad's gonna happen." He led off up the hill behind the ranch house to a stand of trees; there was a full moon, but cloud was building up. Then we went over the ridge and dropped down to a track, and there was a tumble-down shack, and he wheeled a big chopper out of it. "Hurry, get on," he shouted as he got astride it, and I climbed up behind him, and he kicked her into life. Lights were showing on the ridge, and there was shouting. We roared off down a narrow gully, swerving and sliding amongst loose stones and rocks, and just then a cloud came over the moon, which was lucky, I guess, as I heard the sound of a couple of shots, but we just roared on and came to the main track that led up to the ranch house from a gate 'bout a couple miles away. Johanan crossed it and shot off across the pasture 'til we came to a wire fence; he stopped, got off and got out a pair of wire-cutters and cut away at the fence like crazy, and then we were off again through the gap he cut and across more rangeland 'til we got on to a black-top road, and we were flying down it like a bat out of hell. And we kept on going most of the next day down the inter-state with a few stops at gas stations. At one place, Brother Johanan made a phone call, and when he came back, he was white as a sheet, so I said, "What's wrong, Brother Johanan?" and he said, all mean, "Forget all that Brother Johanan shit, you hear? From now on, I'm Ray, Ray McDeevit," and we were off again like the devil was at our back. Then we crossed the state-line into Wyoming and spent a night at a motel outside Sheridan. Brother Jo... I mean Ray, seemed to have plenty of cash. We slept in the same bed, but he didn't do nothing, 'cept when I woke up in the night, he was crying, and he clung on to me. "Poor buggers, poor young buggers, saved you, Ariana, couldn't save the rest," was all he said, and he sobbed and wept. Next day, he asked me for the first time a lot about myself and the past, where I was born and brought up, and when I told him, he said we were going there. We left there and went to Cheyenne, stayed in a cheap hotel. We bought ourselves new clothes, and Ray went off to see a guy he knew, old biker buddy he said. I had to stay in the room. I was watching the TV, flicking channels when I saw a news report all about the mass death of a cult in Montana. My blood ran cold when I saw pictures of the old Burndon Ranch and all the bodies in the bunkhouse laid out neat and all in white on those white cots. The reporter said state troopers had gone there after a tip-off over the phone from an unknown guy and found twenty-five bodies, mostly young men and women lying dead from cyanide poisoning. The FBI had been called in. The FBI said they were treating it as mass murder by the cult leaders, two of whom were dead at the ranch, Cyrus Zaleznik, a.k.a. Brother Marko and Antonietta DiCusio, a registered nurse but claiming to be a doctor, Zaleznik's half-sister a.k.a. Sister Angelina, but that they wanted to interview a third leader, John Charles Mitchell a.k.a. Brother Johanan who was known to have been at the ranch but had not been accounted for. All these three had criminal records. There was a mugshot of Ray from his slammer days which looked like him but not really if you know what I mean. They said all the dead could be identified from records kept by the cult. Strangely, there was nothing about me. They said Marko had left a "a long and confused testament saying that the holy spirit had told him that all the members of the Free Jesus Family had found favour with God and were to be received into his kingdom on Good Friday at twelve noon." Soon after, Ray came back in a cab. He'd got rid of the bike to his buddy and got false I.D. I told him what I'd seen, but he said he had nothing to do with it. Sure, he knew what that crazy Marko and his mad sister had in mind, but he just wanted out and to get me out. He loved me and wanted a decent life away from those crazies, couldn't do nothing for the rest 'cos Marko was suspicious, and he had threatened to kill him. He said that that last night when they were all busy getting ready for Good Friday's "love-feast," he broke into Sister Angelina's room and got my file out of her file cabinet and destroyed it. And he took all the money he could find on the place. "Now you know, Ariana, why you weren't mentioned; they don't know you were ever there, but hey, we gotta get outta here." So we checked out and got the Amtrak east and came back here. Ray found us a place and went to work for Arnie Carlson in his bike repair business, did alright, but he was mad for speed, almost like he had a death wish, so it wasn't no surprise when he got killed in a smash. Funny thing is, two years after he died, Arnie says two guys, cops or agents, turned up at the bike shop asking about a John Charles Mitchell who could be using the name Ray McDeevit. They showed him a picture, and he saw it was Ray, so Carl said sure the guy had worked there, but he was dead two years, told them where to find his grave, never heard no more. That's four years ago since Ray got killed, and at the time it happened, I went pretty much to pieces, fell apart, went back to being a tramp, screwing around, smoking dope, working at cleaning jobs or waiting tables in greasy spoons, turning a few tricks even... THE STAVRONIS CHRONICLES: A saga, by Pauleena. Part 4 ... Then I met Terri, and she got me the job in Hogrogians's Market, and I got myself together again pretty well. God, what a saga, Pauli, what a real-life shitty soap opera. Still, I got my loving brother back, so who cares about all that. Let's just get on with the present, eh, Pauli? As she said this, her hand went down to my dick, and I had a hard-on almost as soon as she touched it, and she kissed me all wet, and tongue pushing, and my hand went down to that hairless slit, getting two fingers between the lips, and her juices were running, and I pushed the two stiff fingers up her slippery cunt, and she moaned and moved away and down and got over me and put her mouth over my dick and pushed the foreskin back with her lips. "Hey, hang on, Ariana, hey, let me..." and I got myself round between her thighs so my head was under her slit, and she got her mouth round my dick again, and she lowered herself down, and I stretched up a bit, and her slit was over my mouth. I could smell the musky smell of pussy and taste the salty bitter taste as I pushed my tongue between the lips. I licked her clit, which had a sort of metallic taste to it, and it got all hard. She was sucking away and squeezing my balls gently, and she was licking round the rim and holding the head of my dick in her mouth and licking and sucking and biting but not hard, and her clit was quivering under my tongue. I went at it, and then she came again quickly, rapidly, all jerking and shaking, and she let my dick out of her mouth as she moaned and cried. I licked all the way down her slit and round and up between the cheeks of her ass and licked her tight little wrinkled knot, and a thrill went through my dick just like when I was about to get it up some guy. God, I thought, no, you must be mad, but just then, she got my dick in her mouth again, sucking on the head of it hard, going down and up and pushing the foreskin back and sucking hard on the head, getting her lips round the rim and moving up slowly, grazing the head lightly with her teeth and letting her lips come off the end with a sort of plopping noise. Then she's doing it all over again, and I'm rolling and twisting my hips and moaning. I can't stand it for long, and the feeling is really intense. She's gripping and nipping my shaft hard at the base, and, "OHHHHHHH God, Sis, Oh God, ahhhhhhh it's, it's, it'sss," and I'm there, and I'm coming, but not shooting off, "AAAAhhhhhhh!" She is sucking again and again, and it's a pleasant agony, and I'm getting another orgasm, "Ahhhhhhh yesssss, yesssss," and it sort of makes my toes curl. I'm gripping the sheet and pushing my hips up and moving my head from side to side, and, "aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh no, no, no it'sssss happening again, oooooohhhhhhhh Ariiiiiiii!" She just keeps her grip tight on my dick, and she keeps on sucking and licking, and it's starting up for the third time, "Oh God ohhhhhhh yessssss ahhhhhhhh!" I'm bucking, and my dick's like a hot wire, it's tender and raw.Then she takes her mouth away suddenly with that slurping popping sound and releases her grip on my shaft, and that finishes me off, and I shoot my load off like a fountain, and my hot cum spatters her belly and tits, running down and dripping off them. And I can smell sex in the air, the starchy smell of fresh cum and the musky smell of hot pussy. We both flopped on our backs, gasping. "Need it, Pauli, need it, need it, need sex all the time," she panted. "And so do you, Pauli, and I know what special little thing you need as well, Pauli, and your loving Sis will give you everything, everything. You can fuck me all ends up, Pauli." Promises, promises, I think. And I put my arm under her head, and we were kissing again, and she says softly, "Happy, Pauli, Ari's happy." "I'm happy too, Ari, sure am," I say, and I mean it, and she sighs, and we sort of drift into sleep again. When I wake up, she's got a hand on my dick, sort of toying with it, and I'm stiffening up, springing up in her hand fast. "Let's go again, Pauli," she says, "Oh God, let's, let's go again, real long, real slow," and she's breathing fast, and she crouches down on her knees, putting her head down, arching her back and pushing that big white butt up in the air. So I get behind her, and she opens her legs, and I kneel between them, and I see her long slit, and I open the lips, all moist and damp, and see the red hole just inside. I pull my dick down, my hard, rigid dick, and push it in slowly, real slowly, right up her cunt, and she moans with pleasure, and I begin to give it to her with long slow strokes in and out, in and out, watching my shaft all glistening with her juice. And I'm leaning over her and kissing the nape of her neck and brushing up and down her spine with my lips, and I get a hand round and finger her clit, and we take it so easy, and the bed's rocking as we move backwards and forwards, and I'm pushing it right up. I'm bringing it right out slow, slow, right to the tip before I push it back up again, slowly, slowly, and so it goes on long and slow, but just as I'm thinking I could go on forever, she's getting hot and excited, and she says, "Ahhhhh, it's cummin', it's cummin', want to, want to, want to go now!" and she's shrieking, "Fuck me, fuck meeeeee!" So I speed up, doing quick short thrusts, ramming at it, and she's quivering and shaking, and it's rising out of my balls, and I get the feeling too, and my cock's jumping and shooting, and we go off together, and we fall on our sides and lie there until my limp dick flops out of her cunt. After a while, we sit up, and we pile up the pillows and recline against them, not saying anything, but one thing I know is I got a raging thirst. "You got any beers, Sis?" I ask. "Afraid not, Pauli, only Doc Peppers in the ice-box." "Okay, you want one?" "That'd be nice, Pauli." I get off the bed and find my way to the kitchen. Real nice and clean and bright in there with everything the little housewife desires. Get two Doc Peppers and head back to the love-couch. We pile up the pillows and sit up, me with an arm round her and just idly touching up one tit, squeezing the nipple between two fingers, and between sips, we're kissing and frenching, and she's stroking my dick. After the drink, I reach my smokes off of the bedside cabinet. "You want one, Ari?" "Better not to, Pauli." No drinks, no smokes, all this makes me interested. "So you taking real good care of yourself, Sis?" "That's right, Pauli, I got to." "Why you got to, Sis?" "Well, Pauli, truth is I'm having a kid," she says. Well, I'm a tad startled to say the least. "Having a kid?" I hear myself saying, "Why, for Christ's sake, after all you just told me bout yourself?" "Having it for someone else. That so, Sis, you doing it for cash, eh?" "Yeah, that's it," she says a bit ruffled, "Why shouldn't I?" "Hey, hey, Ari, no reason, that's your affair." And I kiss her and stroke her tits. "Sure is," she says. "So you gonna tell me who for?" "Sure, why not? It's a guy name of Parosian, rich guy, a business associate of Stan's, well, they're cousins really." "Stan!" I'm incredulous. "Stan, that guy at the Market, that hick looks like an odd-job man?" "You don't wanna be fooled by how Stan looks. He's loaded, got business interests all over town, lives in a big place out Roseparkville." I whistle. "Real nice place, lives there with his sweet old mother," she says. "You seen it?" I ask. "Yeah, been there to one of Stan's parties, one of Stan's wild parties." "He an eccentric millionaire then?" "Well, he's probably a millionaire," she says. "And this Parosian, he a millionaire too?" "Could be," she says, "He lives out Cedar Wood Heights." "Gets better," I say, "They paying you well?" "That's my business," she's getting mean again. "Right again, Sis, none of my business." "Aw, Pauli, just want to get some cash together, get me a good life, and they're treating me right. Fixed me up with this place, got me booked into a clinic for when it's due, getting me all the medical care I need." "These Parosians," I ask her, "They a young couple or what?" "Naw, they ain't young, they had a son got killed in a traffic accident, and she's too old to have kids anymore, and he wants one, a boy got to be, make sure of the family firm and the family fortune." "So maybe you have a girl." "Naw, had a scan, it's a boy alright." "Did he come round and screw you to get it, this Parosian guy?" "No, he provided the stuff, clinic did the rest." "So he ain't seen your tit ring and your butt art," and I laugh. "Fuck off, Pauli," she says, and she's getting real mad, so I say, "Maybe they gonna sacrifice it to the Devil, Sis, that's why they chose a witch like you to have it." Truth is I can't understand why they chose her. God, is that some mystery. She gets real mad at this, slapping and clawing at me, so I grab her arms, and then I kiss her and french her and play with her tits and get my hand between her legs, and she opens them up, and I'm into her slit again, and I get her off quickly 'cos she so worked up. She jumps and shudders and starts crying, so I hold her tight, and then I say, "How long you gone, Sis?" "Just four months, Pauli." "Hey, now you gotta take good care of yourself, Sis, and that means we can't be fucking all the time. Hey, what if you started with the kid when I was up you?" "No, we gotta be careful, don't want the deal ruined for you. Like you say, you about due a better life after all the shitty deals you had so far." When I say this, she cries some more. "Oh, Pauli, suppose you're right, but seeing you again, I couldn't help it, and say, Pauli, we can have a nice life together out of all this." That sounds good to me, real good, can just see me setting up as a lawnmower man again and living an easy life, cutting grass (and smoking it too). Then she says, "But that don't mean we can't love one another in other ways, does it? We can do blow jobs, Pauli, you like me give you head, I like it, Oh God, do I! We can feel one another up, you can eat my pussy, you got to, Pauli, got to." She's getting real wild. "Okay, okay, Sis," I say, grinning. And then she's playing with my dick again, and it's stiffening up, and she's rubbing the skin backwards and forwards, and then she's giving me head again and squeezing my balls, and then she takes her mouth away and rubs me up fast and hard until I shoot off, splashing up my chest and belly.... (To be continued)Ariana drops her can onto the floor and says, "One thing though, Pauli, if you get to screwing her, you've got to be good, you've got to give it to her as she likes it, or you could be in trouble." "How do you mean?" I ask, curious. "Well, when she goes with a guy the first time, she makes him wear a rubber, and then she keeps it with his cum in it. If he doesn't measure up or if she takes a dislike to him, she throws that rubber into the furnace and...." She stops, looking at me carefully. "So? And? She throws his cum into the furnace. And then?" I ask. "Well, this is what happens to the guy - are you sure you want to know, Pauli?" she says, grinning. "Aw, come on, Sis," I say. "Okay, well, the guy in question, when that old rubber goes into the flames, he gets a massive hard-on like he's never had, no matter where he is, and he shoots his load straightaway, he can't help it, and then he feels as though he's burning up, as though his cock's on fire, it goes red and angry, and it's stiff like iron, and it burns and itches, and he grabs at it and acts like he wants to pull it off, and he writhes in agony, and he gets a pain in his balls that makes him double up and cry out, and then, just as sudden, his cock goes limp and shrinks down like a baby's, and he weeps and cries, he's a broken man, Pauli, and after that, he can't get it up again." "She told you this? You believe it? You mean it lasts forever? The guy can't ever get it up again?" "I don't know for certain about that, Pauli, not about how long it lasts, but I can tell you it works when she does it." "It works? How do you know, Sis? You just said she told you all this." "I know I did, Pauli, but, well, I've seen it." "Aw, come on, Sis, you're stringing me along here with all this shit," I say, disbelieving. "Well, Pauli, Brother Mine, this is how it happened, just like I'm going to tell you now, okay? And I don't give a flying fuck if you believe it or not!" She's getting mean again, I can see, and then she tells me. A year or so ago, when she and Terri first got to be real friendly, Terri tells her all about her mystical powers, looking into the future and all that stuff, and also what she can do to guys she doesn't like. Maybe Ariana is a bit disbelieving when she hears this, so Terri says okay, she'll show Ariana just what happens. So, the next night, they go out cruising round bars, and they pick up this guy. "Was he a fit young guy then?" I ask. "No, he was just a guy - fortyish with a big beer belly on him. Name of Barney." "Like in Barney Rubble," I say, laughing. "Sure, but he looked more like Fred Flintstone," she replies. "Thought he was on to a good thing when Terri asked him how'd he like to come back with us and fuck the two of us. I remember he couldn't wait. Came on real horny then." As she says this, she gets hold of my dick again and starts playing with it. "Real horny," she smiles, 'cos I'm getting a hard-on. I hold her wrist, "Come on, Ari, get on with the story, okay. You can jerk me off after." "Well, when we get back to Terri's place and he sees what it's like, she ain't the tidiest person in the world, maybe he ain't feeling too keen anymore. Anyway, Terri and me get down to our bras and panties, and he gets down to his shorts, and we all get on the bed, and Terri gets a joint out and lights up, and we pass it round, and soon we're all in the mood, so Terri pinches out the spliff and gets her panties off and gets over him and undoes her bra and lets those big tits fall down round his face, and he's trying to get his hands and mouth on them all at the same time, and I pull his shorts off and start sucking his dick, and he soon's got a good hard-on. He had a stubby sort of a dick, fattish, circumcised, seemed like it was all purple head, anyway, I got a rubber and pulled it on him. Then Terri, she's going to get him up her, she's straddling him and opening her slit, ready to go down, but the guy says no, he wants to go face to face with me, and Terri, she ain't pleased, but she says okay, so I lie down, and he gets it in, and he's doing the old in and out, working hard, and it ain't long before he goes off and shoots his load and falls on top of me. I push him off onto his side, and Terri gets the rubber off of him and drops it in a metal ashtray. Then Terri and me finish the joint, and we're playing with one another, and we both go off and climax about the same time. The guy sort of coming round and says he has to go to the john. When he's there, Terri gets a bottle of lighter fuel and pours it over the rubber. Guy comes back and lies down again, but his dick's still limp. Terri, she touches it and says, "Looks like you've got a problem there, Barney. Never mind, I've got something for that." She laughs. Then she strikes a match and drops it on the rubber. Flames leap up, the stink is awful, rubber shriveling and writhing and spitting like a live thing, and then the guy shouts out, and it happens, Pauli. His cock shoots up, straight and stiff, all red and swollen, looks a lot bigger than before with that purple head all swollen and throbbing. He jumps off the bed, grabbing at his shaft, twisting, clawing, and pulling, then he falls back down onto the bed and doubles up, bringing his knees up to his chest and grabbing the sheets, and he's shouting out, "Oh God, Oh God, the pain. Oh God, it hurts. Oh Christ, you bitches, what you've done. You fuckin' rotten whores." Then, after about ten minutes of this, he turns onto his back, and a big spasm grabs him, and his back arches up, and that huge red cock is standing straight up, and then he shoots off in massive spurts, cum spraying about all over his face and chest and belly, and then he goes slack, and his dick goes down sudden like a balloon with the air let out, and he's moaning and crying with tears rolling down his face. And his dick looks small as a baby's. Terri, she collects up his clothes. "Come on," she says to him. "Come on, Barney, time to go." He just lies there sobbing, so we haul him up off the bed and walk him out the bedroom and to the door. Terri opens it, and we push him out into the hall, and Terri throws his gear after him. She locks the door, and we go back to the bedroom and smoke some more dope and drop a tab and have some fun, and Terri gets on a strap-on dildo and fucks me doggy fashion, and we're laughing most of the time. "So there you have it, Pauli, so don't say you ain't been warned about Terri." I don't say nothing, not really knowing whether to believe it or not, after all, it could all have been a dope fantasy or part of an acid trip, but I don't want to get into a fight with her about it. Neither do I want any more sex just at that minute. So I say, "Shit, Ari, I need a shower," and I get off the bed quick. She shouts after me, "No need to hurry, we didn't use a rubber," and she's laughing. "Hey, Pauli, you might as well run the tub for me." So I did that, and while she relaxed in it, I took a shower, and when I'm in there, I'm thinking about the money she's going to get, and that I better keep her sweet, so when I'm done, I go over to the tub, and I soap her all over, playing with her tits, getting the nipples really stiff and hard. I lean over and lick and suck and bite them. "Oooooohh, lovely, Pauli, lovely," she sighs, so I put my other hand down into the water, and she opens her legs, and my hand slips in between them, and I touch up her pussy, opening up the lips, and then I move a finger further down and over her wrinkly little button, and suddenly I push that soapy finger right up her ass, and she catches her breath, and I kiss her and French her as I move the stiff finger in and out down there, and at the same time, my thumb is pressing on her clit, and I keep at it, moving the finger and rotating my thumb on her stiff bud at the same time, and soon her legs are jerking and splashing the water about, and she's breathing heavy, and I push my tongue right into her mouth, and she cums fast, jumping against my hand. And she pulls back from me, and "AAAAAhhhhhhhhhhh, Pauli, ooooohhhhhhhhh, you've got me cummin' again," she goes. My dick's standing up stiff and hard, and she leans over and licks the end with her tongue, and then I pull my foreskin back, and she gets her mouth round the head, sucking on it, sucking on it all greedy, and that does it. I moan, and I shoot, and she takes it all down, and I sink to my knees by the side of the tub. God, am I fucked out...	null	Part 1	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/12/pauli.txt
61,074	Orestes	Resume	You can tell a lot about someone by the blanks she leaves on a job application. The little gaps in her job history speak volumes. A question left unanswered is like a confession of past wrongs. People expect me, as the Human Resources manager, to read what's in a resume, but I've always felt that it's what's NOT in a resume that tells me something about a person. Sarah Courtnall would be in my office in a few minutes, applying for a position with the company. What position? Well, there's the first blank on the application form. Her resume shows an education in accounting and several years of experience in the field, but she didn't fill it in on the application. Maybe she needs a job so badly that she's willing to accept a position in data entry or in secretarial work. Her next blank was left in her job history. A four-year blank, in fact. My mind filled with various scenarios. Usually, there would be an explanation - going back to school, raising a young family, whatever. Usually, the applicant would explain this in her cover letter, which in this case was notably absent. Finally, a real no-no. She had left blank the question about whether she'd been convicted of a criminal offense. I puzzled over this one. If she had been convicted, it's surely something she'd either put down on the application or lie about, but not leave blank. If she hadn't been convicted of a crime, she'd surely put down "no." Was it a case pending? Was she hoping that I wouldn't ask? There were a whole host of omissions in this application. Personal references, contact numbers at her previous employer (as if that would stop me from calling), even an emergency contact, in case of illness or accident. Of course, what's in a resume can say a lot too. Her address was in a very bad part of the city. A slum, really. Her age, 32 years old (pretty young to be down and out). There was an old certificate proclaiming her to the honor roll at her college, and an old reference letter from her first employer, praising her as "promising." With the job market so slim, I knew that our advertisement would bring people out from the woodwork. We were one of the few local companies, based on our strengths overseas, that was hiring right now. This put me in a position of power, which of course, I would never consider abusing if I thought the applicant had any real potential of advancing in the company (an exercise in self-interest, I assure you). This girl, well, I'd have to see. I buzzed the intercom and asked Madeline to send in the next applicant. I stepped up to the door to open it a crack. I could hear Madeline down the hallway. "Mr. Kowalski will see you now, miss." This sound, followed by the hurried clicking of Sarah's steps towards my door. I returned to my desk and watched her enter the room. The woman had dressed well for the occasion. She wore a coordinated blue blazer and skirt, a nice blouse, and carried an attaché case under her arm. The clothes were a bit out of style, perhaps a leftover from when she was the head of the A/R department of her previous employer some years back, I speculated. But, god, was she nervous. I stood to shake her hand, and she almost tripped over herself in her approach to the desk. She was a skinny thing, maybe a little too skinny for my tastes, with a bra size to match. Her face was fairly nice with striking green eyes, but a few stress lines showed through the makeup surrounding them. She must have been a really attractive girl before the drugs took over. That's what I decided had happened. The gap in her job history, the ambiguity about a criminal conviction, her address in a heroin-infested neighborhood, her "almost-too-thin" appearance, they all pointed to a recent drug addiction. Was this a part of her attempt to kick the habit? "Good morning," I said, "Please have a seat." "Good morning," she replied. I think she must have caught on to the way that I was eyeing her. She seemed yet more self-conscious as she took a seat across from me. I know I was leering, but she still had legs she could be proud of. I pulled out her application and turned over to the page where I'd find what I wanted. "There's no answer here," I started, "about criminal convictions. Are there any?" I sure knew how to start things off on the right foot. I could almost feel her heart sink as I asked the question. How quickly she dropped her attempted self-confidence was a thing to behold. "I...uh... wasn't sure how to answer," she stuttered. "I mean, I ... um ... entered a court-ordered program to treat my problem." "That counts as a conviction," I offered. "You should answer 'yes' to that question on applications." A short pause, as the tears welled up in the corners of her eyes. "What's your addiction to?" I pressed further. "It was heroin, but I swear, I'm off of it. I've been clean for six months now." "I see, and that's why you've been out of work for some time." "Yes." She was trying so hard, I almost felt sorry for her, but I was getting that predatory feeling instead. I could have this woman. "I'll tell you what, if you're really off the drugs, I can do something for you," I said. "Really," her eyes lit up. "If," I continued, "you'll do some naughty things for me." She didn't know what to say, and it showed. Her mouth hung slightly open in an anxiety-inspired pause. "Just say, 'Anything you want' and we'll get started," I coached. Her mouth was slow to react, but did nonetheless. "Anything you want," she said, and it was music to my ears. Just to seal the agreement, I pulled out the 'New Hire' form from my desk. She watched as I filled out her particulars and checked off 'accounting' under 'Department.' At the bottom of the page, I signed my name and dated the form. When done, I placed the "New Hire" form face-up on my desk. "It's right here," I said. "All you have to do is bring this form to the personnel office across the hall, and they'll finish the process." She wanted this badly. You can always tell when an addict wants something badly. "But first, let's see that body of yours." She stood, still self-conscious. She began to unbutton her blazer. "That's not sexy enough," I interrupted. "I want a strip tease." She looked downwards and began to do a little strip tease for me. Not bad really, not enthusiastic, but not bad. I think it really bothered her to be doing it in her nice outfit. I was loving it. I loved getting that good first glimpse of her bra, that first look up her skirt to see her little cotton panties. By the time she got to taking her bra off and stepping lewdly out of her panties, I was hard as a rock. I pulled open another desk drawer and removed a tube of lubricant. "Lube up your ass," I demanded. "Bend over the desk and lube it up good for me." She looked at me pleadingly. "Not in the ass," she begged. I just held out the tube for her and allowed desperation to make her decision. God, what a nice view. I told you she still had great legs, and her ass was wonderful. It was pure pleasure to see her bent at the hips over the edge of my desk, with her middle finger pushing lubricant up her ass for me. "Keep working it in there," I said. "I need to get ready too." From where I was, I was in good position to reach her face. I unzipped myself and pulled out my cock. Now, I'm not going to say I've got an eleven-inch dick. In fact, I'd say it would be just slightly above average, and I'm a fairly big guy anyway. It is, however, good and thick. I stood and slapped it against her lips in an unspoken command. She took it. "Mmmng, that's a good little cock sucker. Get it ready so I can fuck your ass." She was pretty good at this too... I wondered if she had turned a trick or two to support her habit. I watched as she continued to work her fingers in and out of her tight little ass with the lubricant. Obedient too, I liked this girl. I pushed my cock further into her mouth until she began to gag. "Keep on sucking," I warned her. She did. When I'd had my fill, I pulled out and remained with my cock positioned in her face for a while. "Lick my balls." She worked my balls gently in her mouth, all the while lubricating her ass. I was getting a bit overheated and stopped her short. I retrieved a condom from my desk drawer. There was no way I was going to risk getting a disease from some junky. I began to walk around the desk, and Sarah froze, knowing what was coming next.I pulled her hand away from her ass and slipped a finger of my own in. She was nice and tight. This was going to be good. Anticipation is a wonderful thing. I put on my condom and placed my cock at her rear entrance, then paused to savor the moment. Was that muffled sobbing I heard from Sarah? So much the better. Slowly at first, I pushed my cock into her ass. She'd done a good job of lubricating, but there's just no preparing for the real thing. I heard her gasp as the head went all the way in. I pushed harder now, enjoying the pressure of her tight little hole. "Take it, you junky whore," I said with venom as I pushed all the way in. She began crying again. "Fuck, yeah," I continued. "Are you used to getting fucked for money?" I couldn't believe that I was getting close to cumming after just the first stroke. I tried hard to hold off. As a distraction, I took the time to lean forward and reach under Sarah to grab hold of one of her little tits. When I began to move my cock in and out again, I knew I wouldn't last long, so I decided to give it to her hard right away. I grabbed hold of Sarah's nipple with my right hand and gave it a nasty little pinch before really going to work on her ass. I gave her probably a dozen violent thrusts before feeling my balls explode. "I'm cumming in your ass, you dirty drugged-out whore." With that, I filled the condom and collapsed on Sarah's back, breathing heavily. She lay there, sobbing quietly. When I pulled out, went back to Sarah's front side, and pulled off my condom. "Here's a little something for you," I said, as I discarded the used condom onto the side of her face. She just lay there, silently sobbing, with the cum leaking down her cheek. "I'll leave you alone now, to clean up before you go to the personnel office. Don't be too long. There are some tissues in this drawer," tapping on the top drawer of my file cabinet. With that, I locked the rest of my drawers and went out for lunch. I wondered how long it would take Sarah to compose herself. I sure hoped that the tissues would help. I kept them in the top drawer along with most of the things I'd confiscated from dismissed employees. Well, things like drugs, if you must know. Why, there must have been a week's supply of heroin in that drawer. Speaking of which, it's a good thing Sarah had quit the habit, as I happen to know that the personnel office conducts mandatory drug testing on every new hire.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/12/resume.txt
61,097	Jess C.	Something New	Yes, it happens, bad experiences. For my wife Sue, it was good and bad, she got so fucked up she only knew part of what happened to her. We had been having a threesome with a guy named Sandy that was ten years younger than us for well over a year. He had become one of two regular lovers for Sue and would come over to the house and screw her for anywhere from three hours to just busting his nut in twenty minutes or so and leave. Sue liked the sex and I didn't mind. It was always enjoyable to get into Sue's wet, hot pussy after one of her lovers had stretched it and spunked in her. Sue is a little submissive and he turned out to be a bit dominant, liking to ask her what she wanted and making her ask for his cock, things like that. Sandy was adventurous and enjoyed screwing Sue either by himself or with me joining in the action. On several occasions, we had doubled up on her, with me in her pussy and him in her ass. She seemed to like it best the few times we both were in her pussy together, doing a slow grind, she would cum in a huge orgasm. At 5'4" and 115 lbs, Sue was light enough to fit on Sandy's dick while he was standing with her legs wrapped around him, it was quite a show. It was a regular thing for Sandy to come over and screw Sue two or three times a week when he wasn't dating someone, he must have been in her well over a hundred different times by then. One evening he called and asked/told her to get ready, he was coming to pick her up and take her to his place. They had done this several times in the past, so I wasn't concerned. Sue was ready by the time he arrived, and he said he would bring her back in a couple of hours. I looked forward to when she returned, as I like to slide my dick into that wet, velvety pussy after it has been stretched and used. Sometimes Sandy would be a tender lover, taking hours with her, and other times he would tell her he just wanted to get his nut off, fucking her and saying "thanks babe." After waiting for her return for two and a half hours, I became a little concerned, and after nearly four hours, quite concerned. It was a relief when I heard the car pull up in the drive. Sandy came to the door, helping Sue walk; she looked to be quite drunk and a mess. Sandy helped get her into the bedroom and said they had a real blast. Returning to Sue, I began to quiz her about what happened, and in a bit slurred words, she began to tell me how "they" had fucked her. Christ, "who were they?" I asked. She related the events as much as she remembered. After getting to Sandy's place, he fixed her a strong drink and encouraged her to drink it up, followed by another, and then another yet. For the life of me, I don't know why she did what she did next, but he gave her a single good-sized pill and told her to take that, saying it would enhance the evening. I later determined it was probably a Quaalude or the like. Anyway, she said he stripped her and laid her out on an easy chair and began feeling her pussy and eating her as he had done many times before. She said she began to feel so very good, but things were getting fuzzy. She was just laying there enjoying his cock as he moved in and out of her with her legs pushed back and spread wide when there was a knock on the door, and Sandy yelled out "come in," and a great big guy we had met but didn't really know came in. Sue said she was so out of it she just lay there with Sandy moving in and out of her while the guy, Mark, came over and started feeling her tits and rubbing her clit, saying "nice, very nice." He was taking his clothes off, and Sue knew she had been set up, and thought about resisting. Sandy then asked Mark if he wanted some of this and pulled out of Sue. She said she felt helpless and just lay there spread out as the guys exchanged positions, and Mark began to rub his large cock up and down her slit. She said it felt so good she didn't protest, and he slid into her and started fucking her hard. After he had cum in her, Sandy had remounted and came in her also. They all took a break, and Sandy made her another drink. Sue began thinking it was time to get out of there, but they were rejuvenated and wanted some more. Sandy put her on her knees, bent her over the couch, and entered her again. After a few strokes, he pulled out and inserted his dick in her ass. Sandy has a real fondness for fucking Sue in the ass and has taught her to really enjoy it. Many of the times that Sandy has screwed her, he has finished in her ass, and I have heard her tell him he can have her ass whenever he likes. Back to the story, they were telling her to cum, and tell them how good it felt, something Sandy liked to do with her anyway. Mark was making lewd comments and encouraging Sandy to fuck her ass good; she said she caved in to the pleasure and had another orgasm while telling them how good it felt. Mark wanted to double fuck her and had Sandy roll her over with him under her on the couch, and Mark put his cock in her pussy, and they did her that way for some time. All through hearing this, I was becoming excited, but concerned that Sandy had disregarded all our understandings, etc. The rest of what they did becomes less attractive, when they had both finally gotten off in her pussy and ass, Mark wanted to see her fuck something, and promptly found a beer bottle. Splayed out on the couch, she watched as Mark worked the big end of a beer bottle into her wet pussy; she didn't think it would fit, and just then he got it in. She said it was intensely stretching her, a mixture of pain and pleasure. Slowly he began working it in and out of her; she said it felt like her guts were being sucked out when he would pull it part way out. Over and over he pushed it in and out until it moved freely in her pussy; she said there was only pleasure from the fullness now. They were telling her to get off on it, and she said she had a crushing orgasm, shuddering and nearly passing out. At this time, Sandy heard his neighbor in the hall, a college student about 18 or 19, and went to get him. It must have been quite a sight, Mark sitting next to Sue with her legs splayed apart as he continued to fuck her with the beer bottle to another climax. Sandy asked if he wanted to fuck the slut, and he said he didn't know, "would I get in trouble?" Sandy looked at Sue and said "tell him you want him to fuck you." Sue was embarrassed, but replied "you can fuck me." At that, the boy came in and started taking his clothes off, all the while watching the lewd sight in front of him. Sandy looked back at Sue and said "tell him you want to get fucked, Sue." "Okay, okay," Sue said, "I want you to fuck me... please." As the kid knelt in front of her, Mark pulled the beer bottle from her pussy, leaving the boy presented with a gaping pussy full of cum juice. It didn't slow him down, and he stuck his cock right in her; she said she could hardly feel him sloshing around in there except for his grinding on her mound. Sandy and Mark sat on either side and held Sue's legs spread apart and back for the kid. After only a couple dozen or so strokes, he was blowing his load in her, adding his contribution to her pussy. Mark wanted another ride, this time in her ass, and she barely remembers him finally cumming. She also thinks the kid took a turn in her ass, going a lot longer this time, and then Sandy saying it was time to take her home. They had managed to put her top and pants on her, and Sandy brought her home, thoroughly fucked out. I couldn't help it and pulled her pants off, found no underwear, spread her legs apart, and sank my cock into her loose and messy pussy. She was very loose and sloppy, so I pulled out and fucked her ass, which I found to be only a little tighter; it had been well fucked also. The next morning, Sue was hungover but remembered most of what had happened to her. She was unhappy that Sandy had shared her with his friends, but conceded she had never been so thoroughly fucked in her life. She surmised her ass was so sore because both the kid and Mark were hung well, and she had never had anything that big in there before. Sue saw Sandy only a few more times after that, mostly because he was so insistent. He would talk about the party while having sex with Sue, and she responded by getting hotter, but she never let him get her away from our home for sex again. The young man showed up at our door, one evening, several weeks later, and when I answered the door, he asked if I was the husband? No doubt he had gotten the address and story from Sandy. He wanted to know if he could talk to Sue for a moment.Looking back into the house, I saw Sue give me a nod, yes. I motioned for him to enter the house, and he stepped in, greeting Sue with a hello and light hug. Sue just studied him for half a minute without saying anything, then knelt down and unbuckled his pants and pulled out his cock. In a few strokes with her hand, he had a massive hard-on. Sue sucked the end of his dick for a bit and then stood up, pulling her underwear off, so I gently pushed her over the back of the couch and told him he could fuck her one more time, then I didn't want to see him again. He readily agreed, and dropping his pants, moved behind Sue, pulling up her skirt. He started moving his cock up and down the outside of Sue's already wet pussy. Sue was moaning as he inserted his cock in her, and I watched, amazed, as it went in and out, glistening with her juices. Her pussy lips were clinging to his cock, and she would grunt when he pushed back in. In about ten minutes, he just stayed jammed in and pumped his load into her, thanking her. As he pulled out, a long string of cum connected her pussy and his dick. I kicked off my shorts and inserted myself into that well-warmed-up pussy while Sue stayed bent over. There was a hot burning puddle of cum deep inside her, and I blew off in a couple of minutes. Sue took the young man into the spare bedroom, and I could hear him fuck her late into the night. When I asked her about the severe grunting I had heard, she told me he had done her in the ass, and his size took some getting used to. I was getting hard listening to her tell me how much she liked his big dick. As I entered her one last time that night, I felt like I was the one she wouldn't be able to feel this time, so I made it a point to grind a little on her clit and bring her off before adding my spunk to the juicy mess in her cunt. Sue never expressed an interest in the other guy, Mark. My guess was that while she had a good time, he had been too rough with her. Before he was done, he had fucked her quite hard with the beer bottle, even though she had cum on it many times. It was something she only wanted to do once.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/12/somenew.txt
61,121	Luthor	Reverend's Little Angel	Young Angel Tucker stepped gingerly out of the hot shower and quickly reached for her favorite fluffy pink bath towel. Today was the first day of the new fall semester, and the last thing on earth Angel wanted was to begin her sophomore year at Saint Catherine's High by showing up late! As the pretty blonde tenth-grader began to pat-dry her firm, glistening torso, she glanced critically at her steamy reflection in the full-length mirror mounted on the wall next to the tub. "Darn!" she muttered under her breath as she gazed mournfully at the blurry image her healthy, tan body cast in the foggy glass. Angel had always been proud of her figure. She was quite the tomboy, and the years of gymnastics and other sports had given her young body a tone and definition that most girls couldn't help but envy. Her firm, rounded calves flared invitingly into a luscious pair of muscular, yet feminine thighs. Her slender, almost boyish hips tapered smoothly into an amazingly tiny waistline, and her taut, solid ass had been drawing stares since she was a ten-year-old. These things, however, were not what was causing Angel's distress as she flexed her wet form in front of the mirror this morning. No, she was still proud of her long legs and athletic build. It was Them! No matter what position the cute little blonde assumed, or what angle she viewed herself from, Angel could not escape their overwhelming presence. Them! Her BIG BREASTS! Angel sighed dejectedly as she examined her bulging chest from every angle, hoping to find some way to make the huge orbs swaying obscenely from her tiny frame seem somehow smaller. She still couldn't get used to the fact that these gigantic mounds of flesh were actually hers! Just last year she had feared that her budding boobs might never grow at all. By the time school had let out for summer vacation, she had still barely outgrown her little training bra. What had caused her young chest to suddenly erupt into the erotic spectacle now staring back at her from the steamy mirror completely bewildered Angel. In the span of one short summer, she had been transformed from a flat-chested tomboy into... Into what? Angel wasn't quite sure. All the sweet youngster knew was that her newfound endowments made her very uncomfortable. It's not that she minded having boobs. Like most young girls, Angel had always looked forward to the day when she would be able to properly fill out a good-sized bra and spark the interest of a boy or two, the way she had seen some of the older girls do, but never in her wildest dreams had she imagined herself with breasts like THIS! On her tiny 5'4" hard-bodied frame, these huge knockers looked positively obscene! "God," she mumbled to herself, still gazing at her reflection in the wet glass. "I look like a freak!" Angel slowly reached up to cradle the twin mounds in her small palms. "And these don't help!" she muttered as she brought the tips of her index fingers forward to lightly tickle the small, sensitive nubs topping each lily-white bosom. Although her breasts had grown to mammoth proportions, she had somehow managed to retain her tiny, pink, little-girl nipples. Barely 1/2 inch in diameter, the diminutive adornments only served to make her big breasts appear even larger than they actually were! "Oooh..." moaned the sweet child as she rolled the spongy breast-tips gently between thumb and forefinger, causing the pink flesh to pucker and distend, making her tiny areolas all but disappear. "Aaahhh!" she gasped as she squeezed the throbbing buds tighter, sending little bursts of pleasure shooting madly through her quivering chest. The innocent youngster was astonished that such small bits of flesh could be so incredibly sensitive! It was as if there was a direct electrical line going from her breasts to her pussy! "Uuuhhh..." Angel groaned softly as her fingertips continued to pinch and tease her tingling, rock-hard nipples. She knew she should stop now, before she got carried away by the wicked sensations shooting through her hot, heavy breasts. Her father was Reverend of the local church, and Angel had always been taught that masturbation was wrong, that what she was doing to herself right now was nasty and dirty, that girls weren't supposed to touch themselves like this, or feel like this, but the hormonal fires coursing through her healthy young body were just too intense to deny! Continuing her intimate ministrations, the panting child could only moan in helpless surrender as she felt her virgin slit begin to bubble and churn, her tender pussy-lips starting to drool with arousal. Angel glanced nervously at the closed door that led to her twin brother, Steven's room. They both shared this upstairs bath, the door at one end leading to Steven's bedroom, and the door on the other side opening onto hers. Angel didn't want Steve barging in on her again, like he had been doing so often lately. Last week the insufferable brat had actually walked in while she was in the shower! Angel shuddered as she recalled the look on his face as he had stared, open-mouthed at her wet, soapy chest, and how the crotch of his jeans had bulged and throbbed obscenely as he mumbled an apology and hurried out of the room. The panting youngster felt her heart start to pound as she pictured her brother's bulging crotch and wondered about the scary, forbidden treasure that lay hidden behind his zipper. Whimpering softly, Angel spasmed as a small rivulet of milky-white fluid oozed slowly down her trembling inner thigh, her sweet young cunt overflowing with hot, sugary pussy-cream. Satisfied that Steven wasn't about to disturb her, Angel stepped closer to the steamy mirror and began to fondle herself with renewed abandon. "Aahh.." she sighed as her small hands clutched wildly at her big wet breasts, urgently kneading the resilient mounds as her pubescent passions began to overwhelm her. "Noo! Oh Nooo!!" Cried Angel as the trembling youngster felt her sopping pussy buck and grind uncontrollably, humping the air as if she were fucking some giant, invisible penis. Unable to contain her young lust any longer, Angel closed her big blue eyes, threw her pretty blonde head back, spread her shapely, tanned thighs and recklessly plunged the first two fingers of her right hand as deeply into her hot, slimy cunt-hole as she could manage. A low, lusty moan escaped Angel's sweet lips as her virgin cunt opened itself eagerly to her invading fingers. Her firm, rounded ass-cheeks clenched tightly as the whimpering 15 year-old began to obscenely slide her slender digits slowly in and out of her wet, slippery cunt. Still kneading her swollen breast-meat with her left hand, Angel's fingers moved faster and faster inside her frothy pussy, filling the small bathroom with the slimy, slushy sounds of fucking, and quickly bringing the trembling youngster to the brink of orgasm. "Oooh! So good! So GOOD!" Angel's hand became a blur between her splayed thighs as she rode the crest of her climax, humping her sweet ass back and forth to meet her frigging fingers. Wave after wave of white-hot passion washed madly over her tiny frame as Angel plunged her wildly fucking fingers deeper and deeper into her hot, slobbering cunt-hole. In, out, in, out, again and again! The frenzied teenager's young body jerked and heaved as multi-colored fireworks exploded inside her head. Sobbing, Angel's trembling knees buckled and she fell forward, her sweat-soaked body plastering itself with a loud slap against the wet glass of the mirror. "Yaa-UUHH!!" Angel screamed as her tender, swollen pussy-lips came into contact with the mirror's slippery surface, causing her to hump her creamy cunt up and down frantically against the cool, slick glass. The unexpected shock of the cold glass against her burning cunt-lips was more than the little blonde could endure. Angel's lithe young body shuddered once, spasmed, and then exploded into a wild, mind-numbing orgasm. The sheer force of her climax almost made Angel swoon. Her big blue eyes glazed. Her head spun. She gasped. Every muscle in her finely-toned athletic body suddenly tensed. For a split second Angel remained frozen, unable to move or breathe, then the sweet child moaned, spasmed, and began to spurt a thick, syrupy liquid from deep within her twitching cunt-hole. "Fuck, Oh Fuck!" Cried the quivering teen, the forbidden words spilling from her sweet lips the same way the slimy cum-juice was spilling from her throbbing cunt-hole.Again and again, she humped her drooling pussy against the cold glass, her orgasmic fluids oozing thickly out of her weeping fuck-hole, soaking her taut belly and firm thighs with a pungent, creamy froth. Overwhelmed, the trembling youngster slid slowly down the full length of the steamy mirror, leaving a slimy trail on the wet glass as she collapsed into a spent, panting heap on the bathroom's cold tile floor. "Oh...my...god..." Angel rasped as she struggled vainly to catch her breath. Bathed in the heavy aftermath of her powerful orgasm, the cute little blonde lay gasping at the foot of the bathtub, a slimy puddle forming between her open thighs as her still-twitching pussy oozed the last of her warm cum-juice onto the shiny blue tiles. "Great show, Sis." The unexpected voice cut through the quiet air like a thunderclap! Angel gasped, her big blue eyes opened wide in shock and disbelief as she turned to see a familiar figure standing motionless in the open doorway at the far end of the room! "STEVEN!" Too stunned to move, Angel stared in shocked disbelief as her twin brother walked calmly into the steamy bathroom. Steven was bare-chested, clad only in light brown pajama bottoms and white sweatsocks. His close-cropped hair was even blonder than Angel's, having been bleached almost white by the strong summer sun, and his slender, muscular torso sported a deep, rich tan. Steven had worked as a junior lifeguard at the lake all summer, and Angel had often stolen furtive glances at her brother's lean, hard body as he lounged around the house in his tiny red speedo in the mornings before his shift began. She had admired his clean, muscular legs, his washboard stomach and had stared in particular fascination at the extraordinary silhouette his budding manhood made in the sheer material of his tight bathing suit. "S-Steven. I- what are you doing?" stammered Angel as her brother came to a stop directly in front of her. He stood with his legs apart, staring down intently at her huge, sweaty breasts and wet, dripping cunt. Angel made no effort to cover herself. It was far too late for modesty. He had seen her. He had seen everything! The little blonde tenth-grader looked up timidly and met her brother's lust-filled gaze. She shivered. Though Steven hadn't spoken a word to her since entering the bathroom, she knew what was coming. "Steven..." Angel whispered softly. "..no...don't.." But it was too late. She knew it. Averting her eyes, Angel stared blankly at the cold tile floor as she listened breathlessly to the hurried rustle of fabric above her. Without looking up, Angel knew what her brother was doing. Her heart pounded. Steven was taking off his clothes! She was going to see him naked! Naked! The word echoed madly through her young brain. Naked! Naked! Her head spun as the full realization of what was happening finally dawned upon her. STEVEN WAS TAKING OUT HIS COCK! Angel suddenly found it hard to breathe! How could this be happening to her? She had always been such a good girl, so careful about her reputation. She was Reverend Tucker's daughter, after all. Hadn't she spoken out against the evils of lust and promiscuity at every opportunity? She never wore suggestive clothing like some of the other girls did, or used foul language, or flirted. She had never even french-kissed a boy! How could she be here, now, spread out naked on the bathroom floor, with her own brother standing over her taking off his clothes? "Steven. W-We can't. You're my brother!" she softly pleaded as she heard Steven slide off his pajama bottoms and throw them into a heap by the tub. Angel was beginning to panic. A dozen conflicting emotions flashed wildly through her young brain all at the same time. Fear. Lust. Curiosity. Guilt. Shame. Lust. Lust. The frightened youngster closed her pretty blue eyes tightly to avoid dealing with the wicked spectacle she knew awaited her between her brother's legs. She started to cry, her quiet sobs causing her fat breasts to bob up and down lewdly on her heaving chest. The urge to run, to escape, almost overwhelmed her. Suddenly, Angel felt Steven begin to gently stroke her silky blonde hair, petting the back of her head like she was a lost, frightened kitten. "Sis...Please..It's all right. There's nothing to cry about. You'll like it. I promise." Steven murmured. His voice sounded so strained, so needy, and he was stroking her hair so tenderly. Angel's heart melted. All her doubt and fear dissolved away in an instant and was replaced by a warm, bubbly, sexy glow that enveloped the sweet girl like a hot summer breeze. Slowly, deliberately, Angel raised her pretty blonde head. Trembling with anticipation, she swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and then opened her big, blue, tear-filled eyes. "Steven! Oh my God!" Gasped the wide-eyed youngster as she stared in awe at the utterly astonishing vision protruding obscenely from her brother's naked crotch. "It's so BIG!" "That's because of you, Sis." smiled Steven, letting his eyes roam freely over his sister's exposed charms. "That little show you put on in front of the mirror was enough to give a boner to a dead man!" "You shouldn't be spying on me! It's a dirty trick!" Angel blushed and lowered her head, still keeping her gaze fixed steadily upon her brother's hard, throbbing manhood. She had seen pictures of such things in the dirty magazines some of the girls occasionally brought to school, and there was a detailed full-color diagram of a male penis on page 229 of her 9th grade Health textbook (with footnotes on pages 230 and 231), but absolutely nothing in her life had prepared Angel for the jutting reality that now confronted her in the form of her twin brother's big, hard, naked cock! His COCK! Angel stared in utter fascination at the long, hard, heavy rod protruding from her brother's sparse blonde pubic hair. Her wide eyes carefully studied the soft, pink nuts dangling loosely between his open legs, her gaze followed the purple veins that criss-crossed the thick, throbbing, shaft, and the little girl marveled at the big, round, purple cock-head that proudly crowned the all-together imposing organ. It was really his cock! Steven's cock! Angel still couldn't believe it! She was looking at Steven's naked COCK! "See something you like?" Steven's mocking voice brought Angel back to reality. She looked up at her brother's grinning face and realized with a blush that he had been watching her stare at his hard penis. "Oh! I hate you! What makes you think I want to look at your gross old dick, anyway?" pouted the embarrassed youngster. She hated the thought of Steven making fun of her, especially at a time like this. She had never in her young life felt so completely vulnerable. "Well," laughed Steven, "your pussy might be considered a small clue!" Confused, the sweet youngster nervously followed her brother's gaze and glanced down between her slender, outstretched legs. "OH!" she gasped in shock as she realized that she had unconsciously inserted the middle finger of her right hand into her hot, dripping cunt and had been slowly slipping the slim digit in and out of her tender quim while she stared at her brother's naked fuck-pole. Little Angel whimpered in embarrassment as she quickly withdrew her wet finger and looked away, shamefaced, blushing furiously. "Don't be embarrassed, Sis," Steven cooed seductively. "There's nothing wrong with making yourself feel good. I do it, too. See?" Angel gasped as she turned to see her brother reach down and take hold of his huge erection, squeeze it tightly, then begin to lewdly fist the throbbing shaft up and down, boldly masturbating just inches away from her shocked face. "OOh! Steven!" cried Angel, blushing even more furiously than before. "That's so nasty!" "Don't be such a baby. It's perfectly natural. Everybody does it." Steven's voice was beginning to sound strange as he continued to roughly fist his raging hard-on. "Besides, you're a fine one to talk! Just look at your wet cunt dripping cum-juice all over the floor!" Steven groaned as Angel spread her tanned thighs wide and looked down at the thick puddle of goo surrounding her firm young ass. "You're right!" giggled Angel, suddenly feeling quite giddy as she finally surrendered herself to the utter depravity of the situation. "Okay, brother dear," the naked youngster murmured as she looked up, smiling wickedly, into her twin brother's handsome face. "Is this what you want to see?" Placing her right hand between her wide-open thighs, Angel slowly, deliberately slid her middle finger once more into her hot, slimy cunt-hole. "Angel! God!" groaned Steven, fisting his throbbing boner with gusto as he watched his sweet, demure sister openly masturbating in front of him. "Oooo! You're getting all red!" laughed Angel as she watched her brother's flushed face staring wide-eyed at her bare pussy. Giggling mischievously, the naked little girl began to pump her wet finger lazily in and out of her dripping fuck-hole. Steven moaned, pulling his swollen cock-meat even harder. Delighted by her brother's reaction, Angel dipped her slender digit faster and faster into her drooling cunt, causing her huge breasts to jiggle obscenely and bringing the little virgin to a fevers-pitch of lust. The sweet child groaned as she plunged first one, then two, and finally three fingers as deeply as she could into her hot, bubbling pussy, the look on her brother's face as he watched her nasty little show exciting Angel more than she could ever have imagined! "Oh Angel...Angel...." moaned Steven as his fist raced madly up and down his throbbing cock.Reaching down with his free hand, Steven grabbed Angel's naked left breast and began to gently knead the firm, tender orb, sending skyrockets of pleasure flashing through little Angel's trembling body. "Oh! Ah! Steven! Oh God! Nobody has ever_OH! No! Yes! YES!!" The trembling blonde babbled incoherently as her ample bosom responded wildly to her brother's exploring fingers. Nobody had ever touched her breasts before, and the excited youngster found the sensation almost too intense to bear. "Oh! You're touching me! You're squeezing me! Oooo! Steven! Squeeze! HARDER!! Aaaaahh! Yes! Do it! Ooooohhhh!!" Angel writhed in ecstasy as her brother pinched and pulled her sweaty pink breast-flesh, moving from one rubbery mound to the other as he continued to milk his pulsing manhood. "God, Sis! You've got the most fantastic tits in the whole world!" Steven released his twitching cock and began massaging Angel's magnificent breasts with both hands, molding and rolling the warm, resilient mounds with glee as his raging manhood bobbed and pulsed freely, inches away from Angel's flushed face. Without thinking, Angel grabbed the swaying organ and began to pump her thin fingers rapidly up and down the smooth, throbbing shaft, moaning with lust as she held a boy's cock for the first time in her young life! "Oh Steven! Your cock! I've got your COCK!" Shrieked Angel as she milked the massive rod, causing her brother to gasp and begin grinding his tight ass back and forth, fucking her tiny hand like it was a cunt. "Oh, Sis!" moaned Steven. "Jack me! Uh! Uh! Yes! Do me! Jack my bone! Uuuuhh!" "Steven!" Angel cried as her brother squeezed her tiny, ultra-sensitive nipples roughly between thumb and forefinger, sending torrents of fresh cunt-cream pouring from her scalding pussy and bringing the pretty 15-year-old to a state of arousal she had never before dreamed of. "OOHH! That feels so_Steven! Aaah! Your hands! Uh! I - I'm gonna_ Oh! God! Your cock is so big! -- Oh! OH!! STEVEN! Y-you're m-making me_OH! Your HANDS! Your COCK! GOD! STEVE!! STEVIE!! STEEV-EEEE-EEEEEE!!!" Angel shrieked, frantically plunging her slimy fingers in and out of her bubbling, churning cunt-hole. Still jacking her brother's raging erection, the babbling youngster arched her back, pushing her huge breasts as hard as she could against her twin brother's grasping fingers, hungry for every ounce of sensation she could attain. Beside herself with arousal, little Angel began to spasm, her taut young body bucking and heaving wildly on the cold, wet floor. Angel's orgasm hit the sweet girl like a freight train. Her heart pounded madly in her chest. She shuddered, gasped, and began to writhe uncontrollably, her spitting cunt slobbering hot cum thickly down her tender ass and onto the slippery floor tiles. Angel shrieked in ecstasy as her lithe young body was enveloped in a giant tidal wave of raw pleasure, then another, and another, over and over, until the gasping child thought she would drown in the sheer delight of it all. Angel fought for breath as her tremendous climax finally began to subside. Her head was spinning, and little explosions of colored lights flashed brightly before her eyes. Gradually, the world began to come into focus again, and the gasping youngster found herself staring directly at her brother's big, red, throbbing cock-head! "Ohh, Steven..." gasped Angel as she stared at the naked organ. It was so close she could feel its heat on her face. Suddenly, she felt her brother softly caressing the back of her neck. "Angel...Please..." he rasped, placing his warm, trembling hands on either side of her blonde head, gently but firmly holding her pretty face motionless as he hunched his tight ass forward. Angel groaned as her brother's hot cock slid across her flushed cheek, smearing her sweet face with his clear, slimy pre-cum. She knew what he wanted. The older girls at school often whispered about giving "B.J.s", and Angel's best friend, Kirsten, had secretly told Angel one night on a sleepover how her Uncle John had made her put his big cock in her mouth and suck until she made his sperm come out. Angel had been shocked, but fascinated, and she had asked Kirsten a dozen questions. Kirsten had finally gotten a sausage from the refrigerator and shown her how to "give head", as she called it. They had both giggled wildly the next morning when Kirsten's mother had served them sausage and eggs for breakfast! "Ooh..Angel... Please.. Do it..Oh.. God..Angel! Use your mouth! Please!" Steven pleaded, humping his dripping cock back and forth across his sister's lips and chin. Angel found the musky, male smell of Steven's cock intoxicating! Groaning in surrender, the petite blonde looked up into her brother's glazed eyes and slowly parted her pink lips, opening her sweet mouth wide in unspoken invitation. "Sis! Oh God!" gasped Steven as he quickly positioned his rigid cock directly in front of his twin sister's beautiful, flushed face. His tanned, muscular thighs trembled as the horny teenager took a deep breath and, still holding her blonde head tightly in his hands, shamelessly thrust his drooling cock-head slowly past little Angel's widely parted lips and into her warm, wet mouth! Angel's big eyes opened wide with surprise as her brother's thick, hot cock slid boldly over her wet tongue and lodged snugly in the back of her throat, making her gag. Her mouth stuffed full of Steven's thick, slimy cock-meat, little Angel could only gurgle helplessly as her horny brother began to hump his smooth ass back and forth, eagerly fucking her open mouth like she was a cheap street whore! "Angel!! Uuuhh! Your MOUTH! I'm in your MOUTH! Aaauughh!! Take it! Yes! Take it all! Oh GOD! ANGEL! I'M FUCKING YOU IN THE MOUTH!" cried the frenzied teenager as he mercilessly defiled his sweet, virgin sister, rutting into her open mouth like a dog in heat! "GOD! Oh GOD! So GOOD! Uuuh! Sis! ah! ah! ah! Ooohh! I_I'm gonna mess! Uuuhh!! Sis! I'm gonna mess in your mouth! Aaah! Sis! It's gonna happen! Get ready! Ah! Ah! Get ready! Oh! Ah! Uh! Uuuh!!!" Angel's sky-blue eyes opened even wider than before as she felt the head of her brother's rutting cock suddenly swell in her mouth and then begin spewing a thick, hot, slimy goo directly into her tender throat! Angel shuddered. Steven was cumming in her mouth! The whimpering youngster did her best to swallow the acrid, slightly salty discharge, gulping down mouthful after mouthful of her brother's hot, nasty cum, but there was just too much for the inexperienced little girl to cope with, and the viscous white slime began to bubble thickly down her chin and onto her big, sweaty breasts. "ANGEL!! I'm cumming!! Oh God oh God!! SIS! AAAHHH!! You're making me CUM! Uuuh! GOD! You're making me cum with your MOUTH!! AAAHH!! ANGEL! There! THERE!! Take it! Drink it! Oh God! Aaahh! Uuuhh!! Angel! Yes! YESS!! Drink my CUM! AAAAWW!! RIGHT IN YOUR MOUTH!!" shouted Steven as his throbbing manhood sent spurt after spurt of his boiling sperm careening down his sweet sister's gulping gullet! "Angel! Angel! Ooohh! Do it! Do it! Oh MAN! Drink my JIZZ!! Yessssss!!!" Steven's slender hips bucked and writhed as the moaning teenager emptied the last of his hot cock-juice into his sister's wet, sucking mouth. Little Angel Tucker closed her eyes and moaned as she sucked greedily on her brother's spurting prick. The young girl had never dreamed that something coming out of a boy's big, nasty cock could taste so incredibly good, or make her feel so wonderful! Angel sucked harder, hungry for more of the thick, heady liquid. She could hear Steven gasping above her as her full lips eagerly siphoned the last few drops of sperm out of his softening penis. "God, Angel! That's enough. Please! I'm finished! There's no more!" Steven forcefully pulled his sister's blonde head away from his wilting prick and stepped back shakily, staring down at Angel in amazement. "Th_That was unbelievable! You let me cum in your mouth! And you SWALLOWED it! You drank my jizz! God!" he breathed. "Oooohh..Steven! Your cum is so good!" gasped Angel as her small hands eagerly scooped up the slimy remnants of her brother's enormous emission from her naked breasts and gleefully smeared the gooey ooze all over her lips and tongue. "I love the taste! Mmmmm! God, this is so nasty!" The naked youngster grinned wickedly as she looked up into her brother's flushed, sweaty face, lazily licking the last of his cum off her slick, shiny fingers. "Angel..Whew! You're too much!" Steven shook his head and began to make his way out of the bathroom. "Better get a move on. You don't want to be late for the first day of school!" SCHOOL! It had completely slipped Angel's mind! The panicked teen jumped to her feet and dashed frantically into her bedroom, throwing open her drawers and searching madly through her closet for something to wear! It was going to be an interesting day! END	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/12/angel.txt
61,171	Rudi ([email protected])	Alanah's Threesome	You can say my wife's a real slut. She's had her share of sexual adventures, yet this one is special. Most of her adventures were with buddies of mine, and I'm perfectly fine with it. Usually, I also step in, sometimes I don't. We're a couple in our mid-thirties, living happily together and enjoying each other as much as we did six years ago, when we met. And we found out that we both have this urge not to bind ourselves too much. So we're enjoying a very liberal relationship. Again, my girl is fancying a much younger bloke. She had made a successful pass at a younger boy in our neighborhood before, and this time, we are on our holidays in Ibiza. And, as usual, we're visiting the quiet nude beach of Es Cavallet. As we're making ourselves comfortable on the sun beds, I already notice Alanah's distracted somehow. The moment I lay down, I understand why. Next to us is lying this younger boy. Apparently, he's there with his parents. An English family. The boy, a bit skinny, nearly no pubic hair, I guess he's fifteen or sixteen years old, with a really huge cock lying on his stomach. Just like his father, a larger man in his late forties with a little tummy, lying next to him. Dad's in fact pretty hairy. And I can almost see their family-bloodline in the size and shape of their uncut penises. The young bloke occasionally spies on my wife, which I know, finds this very flattering. And she's rewarding him by rearranging her sun bed in such a way that the boy can easily have a look at her freshly shaven pussy. But not only the kid shows interest, also his father seems a bit of a voyeur. Alanah softly whispers to me that she has caught a bit of male attention, which, she knows, I find very exciting. During the next half hour, lazily enjoying the sun, she lets her fingers run over her swelling lips, a couple of times, just at the right moments. I can see the prick of the younger boy getting even bigger and dangling on his stomach. Also, his father's dick isn't completely unaffected. Mother, a typical English housewife, not a real beauty, isn't noticing anything. The boy, who of course is a bit less restrained, has to roll over to his stomach to hide his still growing erection. His father's dick is also hardening but still hanging down. When mother, at a certain point, decides to take a swim and I, with Alanah's knowledge, pretend to be sleeping, my very hot wife's looking directly towards both men, meanwhile masturbating herself to a nice quick orgasm. The younger boy's the first one to react, by putting his towel around his waist and starting to take a walk towards the dunes. These are unmanageable situations for an adolescent youngster like him. Now Alanah's looking the father directly in the eye, and he, hardly perceptible, nods his head. As if he's giving my wife permission to go after his son. She whispers to me she's off and walks away carelessly, also towards the sandy dunes and the woods which lie behind these dunes. I stay put, still pretending to be asleep, but in a way that my raging hard-on isn't visible for anyone. Dad keeps an eye out for his wife, meanwhile playing a bit with his still growing, semi-erect cock. He's also constantly looking towards the dunes. You can't see a thing there, but I can see him wondering what's happening to his son. When his wife returns, I can hear her asking what Frank is doing. Frank's father tells her that he's just gone for a walk. When she's shaking her head and wet hairs over his tummy, the man jumps up a bit, and she's noticing his excited dick. She's smiling and whispering something, and he's stretching out, a bit ashamed. I hear her talking in a soft voice, telling something about the sun, hot, bodies, and exciting. When she sees my wife's gone and I'm fast asleep, she quickly pinches his fat cock, then puts on a small hat and lies herself down on her stomach to take a nap. The following minutes lazily crawl by, minutes in which Dad is looking towards the dunes more and more. And apparently, he cannot resist the urge to stroke his cock now and then. It doesn't take that long before he, after checking out that both his wife and I are still sleeping, is also heading towards the dunes. Also covering his now bulging hard-on with a small towel. When he's out of my sight, I check if nobody's watching me. Which is the fact, so I'm pretending to wake up, noticing that nobody's around anymore. So I quickly get dressed. I put on a t-shirt and a pair of shorts which hide my raging erection. I walk past the dunes for a little while because I want to be sure that I'm not on the same path as they were. Behind these dunes, as I said, lies this small forest, with all kinds of secluded or some not so secluded, open spots. These spots are in fact often used by men and women who cannot resist the tensions that can build up during a day at an eroticizing nude beach. Today though, it's very quiet at the beach and also in the woods. I'm outflanking their possible whereabouts and concentrate on hearing sounds that are natural, but not in this habitat. When I'm hearing these sounds I was looking for, I head towards them. Luckily, I spot the father, who's also made a turn around my wife and his son, first. I stay behind him; his towel is now loosely hanging over his shoulder. He's stroking his now huge uncircumcised shaft as he secretly is watching his son doing my wife. Young Frank is still pounding my girl, ramming his also very fat cock deep into her womb. I see my girl enjoying and cumming hard, certainly when the youngster is blowing his wad deeply into her wet and open cunt. Frank is still a bit dazzled, lying between my girl's legs. When he's rolling off her, pulling out his weakening erection, I can see white sperm gushing out of her stretched out and wide-opened pussy. He kisses her a bit clumsily, thanks her for this joyful treat, puts on his towel again, and returns to the beach without looking back. Alanah is still lying there, gasping with her legs wide open when father is stepping forward. As a sign of his presence. His monstrous dick looks a lot rougher and bigger than the bald boyish one of his son. Alanah immediately reacts when she sees Frank's father. I can tell she's horny as hell when she jumps up, walks towards him, and throws herself at his feet, hungrily looking at his fierce, throbbing, and veiny dick. "That's one hell of a fine specimen," I can hear her say, as I see Frank's semen flowing down the insides of her thighs. I know she's enjoying the remarkability of this experience when she's folding her warm lips over the tip of dad's huge cock. Just as she did with the dick of his son a few moments before. Then she lets his cock slide in as deep as possible. Experienced as he seems to be, he takes control of her head by pulling her hair. And softly forcing his cock in as deep as possible. I can hear Alanah moaning in excitement. She hasn't noticed my presence and seems to be completely obsessed by this huge man in his late forties... Apparently, Alanah hasn't got any problems licking and sucking his balls, when he presses her down gently. She likes it, to be controlled. His next move is to step over her and spread his legs, forcing her to lick even his hairy crack. She reacts by licking frantically as he's stroking his fat meat. Without anything else happening, without being touched, I hear her moaning hard until she reaches her next orgasm. I know this state of horniness she can reach only too good. And this man, who has a strong natural dominance, is clearly used to being in control. He puts her down on all fours and starts licking her cunt and ass, not bothered by the fact that he's tasting his own son's cum. This made her cum again. Then he mounted her very roughly, slamming his cock fully into her wet fuckhole. The 'familiar' semen that wetted her cunt just minutes ago is working as a nice natural lubricant for his long hard shaft. Alanah is cumming again and again, moaning loudly, and I sense that this isn't going to take very long. When she's reaching her final and biggest orgasm, Frank's father pulls out his cock, to let her mouth do the finishing job. Like a bitch in heat, she starts to suck it, fondling his balls and arse with both hands, until he cums snorting, covering her hair and face, and she can taste two not so different loads of sperm on one cock. When he's through jizzing and stands up gasping for breath, she remains seated on her knees in the sand before him. He whispers something I cannot hear.But the next moment, he's grabbing his still half-erect pole, and I can clearly see a strong stream of warm, yellow pee, bursting out of his pole like a wild river and landing in the middle of her face. Alanah is startled but opens her mouth a bit anyway. And while he's emptying his bladder on my wife, her fingers frantically work her to yet another orgasm. When his last streams have landed in the sand before her, he kisses her fully on the mouth and walks off coolly to the beach. When Alanah, still somewhat staggered, is sitting there savoring the past moments, I cautiously make my way out of there. I walk past the restaurant to buy some bocadillos and some water and return to our spot as if nothing happened. I see Alanah coming back from the woods, still wet from pee and sperm, and walking directly towards the sea. She jumps in, swims a bit, and clearly washes herself. When she rejoins me, I ask her if she's up for a nice sandwich and some fresh water, which she gladly accepts with a smile. The English family is suddenly preparing to leave, and both the man and the boy smirk at my girl as they pass by. Not too long after that, we also leave for our hotel, and on our way back, my insatiable wife sucked my dick as hard as it can be. And back in our hotel, during an animalistic fucking session, she told me everything that happened. Well, nearly everything. She left out the part in which he pissed over her, probably because she has refused to do that with me more than once in the past. The next day, we decide to go to the same spot, just like the English family apparently did. The only difference is that we, or rather Alanah, is picking a spot even nearer to them. Which feels a bit strange, because it's even quieter than the day before. As if yesterday didn't happen, a similar kind of story develops. The only difference is Alanah, who's even bolder today and uses every opportunity to show daddy and his son how horny she is. When she's leaning over towards me to look into an interesting piece in my magazine, she does it so that she's sitting on all fours, stretching her ass and swollen pussy invitingly towards both men. Or if one of them is in the water, she swims by just a bit too close and apparently touches them under water. And when the missus leaves for the restaurant to get some lunch, and I once again pretend to fall asleep, she masturbates herself, legs wide open, towards them. This time, both father and son make no effort to hide their huge erections that are as long as mother is out of sight. When I 'wake up' for a short moment, Frank is flipping over right away to cover up his arousal. But his father, almost provokingly, still makes no effort. I pretend I don't see his giant flagpole and turn to the other side to doze off again. But my wife is so in heat that she keeps fingering her cunt using two, three, four fingers, only to stop when mother's almost back at her spot. Meanwhile, father had been shamelessly stroking his fat shaft. And this he also flips over to hide his hard dick the moment his wife returns. This time, Alanah is the first to check if I'm still sleeping, after she sees that mother is taking a nap, after she has taken a swim. And also the first to walk away to the dunes, towel loosely over her shoulder, pussy juices running down her thighs. Dad follows her within a few minutes, and son waits until I wake up and give him a friendly nod. He looks towards his mother, who's fast asleep by now, jumps up, and almost runs towards the dunes, following his raging hard-on. I don't make much of a fuss myself either, though I'm watching the English mother a bit closer now. She's lying there spread-legged, and although she isn't very pretty, her shapes are still very in form. Nice tits, pretty slim waist, and a nice landing strip right above her fleshy lips, which look a bit swollen. But that can very well be my imagination. I don't take too long picturing out how she's getting fucked by her dominant husband, get myself clothed, and leave. Once again, I take the evasive route towards the same spot as yesterday, to find my girl this time taking up two giant cocks at the same time. The presence of close relatives doesn't seem to bother either of them. They just look like animals in heat. Daddy is directing my wife to his son, telling her what to do. The boy is lying on his towel, with his legs spread wide and his flagpole resting on his stomach. Between his legs, young Frank is completely hairless. His dick, his balls, his crack, everything's bald. His father tells my wife to give his boy a treat. She's on all fours between his legs and starts to lick her way down frantically, from the tip of his long shaft towards his huge, hard balls. Meanwhile, he's rolling up his pelvis, his legs up in the air and spreading them a little further, until his crack's completely open. I see how my wife is savoring the young boy's balls, one at a time, and how her tongue moves further down. After she licked his crack up and down, she plunges her tongue into his little hole and starts jerking him off. Dad stops stroking his dick, takes his place behind my wife, sticks in his rugged member, and starts fucking her slowly, filling her up completely with every thrust. And thus making her cum almost instantly. She starts licking and sucking his son's genitals even wilder. This goes on for two more orgasms, and the father wants his son to change places. Now he's lying down, spreading his hairy legs, dick, balls, and crack. And Frank is fucking my wife with his veiny young cock. It doesn't seem to bother Alanah 'cause she's giving father the same treat as she gave son. He clearly enjoys it because he's grunting all the time, pulling his shaft roughly. Just before he comes, he orders her to stop and tells her to sit on his face. She obliges gladly and starts sweeping her wet cunt all over his face. Frank is sitting down on his father's belly and starts licking her little hole. The fact that his father's huge cock sometimes touches his crack isn't a point of interest. With mutual efforts, they easily start another row of orgasms. Dad is also using his big hands to widen up her pussy by plunging in some fingers and stretching it out. I know this is driving Alanah crazy. When she's nearly going into a frenzy, father slides up and plunges my wife on his thick shaft. And tells his son to fill up her other hole. Frank, like a very experienced lover, spits on her little rose, drives in two thumbs, and thus stretches her little pink brownish hole. Alanah is screaming in pain and excitement when he thrusts in his big manhood without any consideration. When the three of them are really getting into it, by the sounds they're making, I notice some movement in the opposite direction of mine. It's hard to see, but there's another person over there, having a peek on what's happening. I hear my wife cumming over and over as I walk carefully towards the other person, approaching him from the back. And when I'm close enough, I'm stunned. Hiding behind a bush is sitting the English wife and mother. Also very carefully spying on the steamy sex her husband and son are having with my wife. She's sitting there on her knees, her legs a bit spread, and she's clearly masturbating herself. Holy shit, I'm thinking to myself, she's sitting there, also getting off on her cheating husband and, even more peculiar, on her own son. I observe her until I hear her reaching an orgasm and then withdraw myself, back to my own observation spot. From there, I see she's sticking around long enough to see both men gushing their semen in Alanah's mouth and all over her face. She sucks both dicks 'till the last drop and then licks them clean afterwards. First father and then, even more extensively, his son. When she's done licking his shaft and balls, that's the moment where the missus is leaving her spot. She doesn't see both men pissing over my wife. Father takes the first turn, his son Frank watching with growing amazement. His dad tells him to go ahead, even takes his son's cock in his hand and points it towards Alanah. But this time, Alanah's taking over, she's holding both pricks and directs herself who's peeing where. When the last yellow stream has landed in her mouth, she cums again, completely untouched. Father and son thank her for a good time, kiss her both. When both men have left, she smears their semen and piss over her whole body, tastes it once more, and gets herself off once more, with four fingers in her wide-open cunt. She's insatiable at such moments. After that, she tries to clean herself up a bit and, still completely wet, takes off to the beach. I watch her wandering straight to the water and taking a refreshing dip. I wait for another quarter of an hour and start walking through the bush, parallel to the beach, but away from them. Somewhere along the way, I can't hold myself and jack myself off, shooting my wad into the sand. And having a piss afterwards, pretending it's over my wife. I return to our spot half an hour later, from the complete opposite direction, pretending not to have seen anything. Mother is looking over in an interesting kind of way, and Frank and his dad are having a swim. And my wife is lying there, sleeping the sleep of the innocent. When I lie myself down too, and Alanah remains sleeping, Frank's mom is looking over clearly and giving me a secretive blink. I can't help but smiling, and I give her a confirmative nod with my head. Then she smiles broadly and looks away. Looks like this is going to be our own little secret. The family packs up their gear when Frank and his dad return. Both men greet my wife with a very broad smile, and the father is looking in my direction with a face that combines dominant arrogance and pity. We did not see them afterwards anymore.And not only Alanah finds that a bit regretful.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/37/alanahs.txt
61,696	Tony Tiger	Florida Is For Lovers - 2	Yssup felt her consciousness gathering in the avatar body. She opened her eyes to a blue sky and clouds. Turning her head to the side, she saw a large unfamiliar man. He smiled, "Welcome to Florida, my fellow traveler." It was Iimja. Wow, did he look different, but so will I. She raised her head and looked towards her feet. She couldn't see them because of the very large breasts in the way. "THAT'S real different," she thought. Her home body had A cups. These were F. Her body had been modeled after Virginia Bell, a busty beauty from that approximate time. Iimja helped her stand up and learn to walk. Being so top-heavy didn't make things easier. She had spent long hours with her mentor learning ancient English, customs, and other bits of useful information. But she couldn't practice with her body until she was in it. Arm in arm, they walked slowly towards the beach. Coming to the top of a dune, Yssup stopped in her tracks. This was utterly amazing! No wonder Iimja wanted to return. What an adventure! She was a lot steadier by the time they got to the commune. Some kids saw them coming and ran out. Recognizing Iimja, they escorted the two while one boy ran ahead to alert Mother May, who met them at the edge of the buildings. Yssup said, "You must be Mother May. I've heard so many good things about you. My name is Yssup, and I'm Iimja's sister." They had decided on this cover for simplicity. Surprised yet pleased, May hugged Iimja and then Yssup. "Welcome. Wasn't sure if you'd be back, and here you are...with company even. Come in. Are you hungry?" They replied that they were more thirsty than hungry. Iimja escorted his "sister" around the commune, introducing her and pointing out things they'd talked about. At one point, he said, "It is customary for newcomers to have sex with Mother May and/or Reverend Bill, her main companion. Are you ready to try out your new body parts?" "I think so. Will you couple with me too?" "In this time, there is still some disapproval of sibling intercourse, but there may not be much here. Anyway, I think that you need to get used to normal-size penises before you try mine. Rebecca is the only one who has been able to take me fully. We will be discreet when the time comes." Reverend Bill did a good job with Yssup for her "first time". He was highly stimulated by the big firm breasts and brought his guest to a magnificent orgasm. Iimja happily banged May and did notice that Yssup wanted another ride in the middle of the night. In the shower the next morning, Yssup confided that she had never imagined sex could be THAT much fun. The two of them roomed with Rebecca and Miriam. It did get a bit crowded at times when there were very many extra sex partners, but no one complained. You just might get some more from the person on the next pallet. Besides the ongoing sex lessons, aided by advice and demonstrations from Mother May, Yssup learned domestic skills. Her breasts were a handicap in the outdoor work, so she learned that food can be prepared by other than a 3D printer. She also discovered that small children can often outrun and outwit an adult caretaker. Her work shift ended after the lunch service was done and cleaned up. She often walked to the ocean and through the scrubby woods. A couple of young men struck up an acquaintance and delighted in showing her around. She wisely figured that they wanted proximity to her breasts. Finally, one of them said that she never went in the ocean. Could she swim? She lied, "No one has ever taught me." Two eager males had a perfect reason to get their hands on her body. She easily manipulated them, and there was lots of skin-on-skin contact. There was a fresh water shower at the beach, and she asked them to soap parts she couldn't reach. That ended up being almost everything from the neck down. She happily cleaned their erections too. After drying each other off, she coyly asked, "Did I make those things so big and hard?" They nodded. "Well, I guess I'd better take care of them." Taking their towels, she laid them on the grass, put a guy on each one, and for the next hour, sucked and rode the rods until they couldn't get hard anymore. Kissing them goodbye, she said, "Thanks for the lessons." That night she lay next to Iimja and told him of her adventure. They had the shack to themselves since Rebecca and Miriam were spending the night elsewhere. Yssup moved down and showed her "brother" the oral skills she had learned. When he reached his magnificent fullness, she straddled him and carefully engulfed the large pleasure pole. With her body control, it didn't take too long before he was fully embedded. She moaned with the new fullness, and they coupled for a long time, touching and stimulating each other until they climaxed and fell asleep, still connected. Roberta found them that way and marveled at the sight. She kissed them both awake and said with a grin, "Keeping it in the family, I see! It's OK. I've screwed my brother a few times." The researchers' plans required something that would cost money, and that wasn't a likely possibility at the commune. So they got a ride into the nearest town and explored for ideas. Having no identification, they had to cook for cash-paying situations. Turning a corner, they came across a "titty bar" featuring topless dancers and other sexually oriented entertainment. Iimja laughed and said that Yssup was far from "topless" but it was the best thing they'd found yet. The owner almost had a fit when he saw Yssup even in the tie-dyed baggy loose dress. When she showed him what she had, he hired her on the spot. Iimja bargained for a job for himself too and insisted that both be paid in cash "under the table". Deal! They would start Friday night. Mother May laughed like crazy when she found out and brought out some wine and pot to celebrate. The researchers' bodies didn't respond to alcohol or drugs, so they joined in just to be polite. When she got a bit high, May showed Yssup the kind of dancing she needed to do, having had the same experience when she needed some cash. She explained lap dances and how one could make a lot more money providing "personal services" in the back rooms. Yssup's body and skills quickly made her a busy favorite on the weekend nights she worked, even though she set her prices higher than the other girls. After the bar owner's cut, she could still clear a grand a weekend. Iimja got a helper job at the bar during the busy times she was working there. He was paid in cash, although it was very little compared to her income. They needed to be as "underground" as possible. Soon enough, they bought some forged birth certificates allegedly from a small town where the courthouse had burned down shortly after their supposed births. They chose "Futura" as a last name. Kind of an inside joke. Then getting a driver's license, their only concession to bureaucracy, was easy, followed by getting their own nondescript used car. The lack of computerized records made such deviousness relatively easy. After six months of banging the locals, the plan said they needed to go to an urban environment. Tampa-St. Petersburg wasn't too far away, so they found a relatively inexpensive oceanside cottage to rent. Iimja took as much of their earnings as possible and purchased gold and select stocks that he knew from the historical records would rapidly appreciate in the next few years. Hindsight is perfect! Looking deeper into the sex worker business, Yssup easily got a job with a classy escort agency. Soon enough, she was at the top of the popularity and price lists. Only servicing a few clients a week was a lot easier and way more fun since they often showed her off around town. She took some yacht and ocean cruises and attended corporate functions, although those, for an appropriate fee, often involved servicing a number of men. Most of her clients were distracted enough by her skills that they didn't wonder about all the rather specific questions she would ask, filing away the answers in her mental data bank. She was here to do research, she never forgot. Iimja got to do his share too once the agency learned about his genital endowment. Gigolos weren't as common as female escorts, but there was a demand, especially if they had big cocks and no sperm. He had his questions too. Lots of cash was rolling in, and the investments grew too. Every month, they would visit the commune and spend a couple of nights. Some cash found its way into Mother May's purse to help out. On one visit, May told them that she heard that the property was going to be put up for sale. What would they do? Where would they go? Iimja found the owner and offered the unheard-of price of $2000 per acre for the 100 acres.He couldn't say yes fast enough. A trust was set up to own the property. Iimja knew that the land would be purchased in about 25 years to build a luxury resort. Mother May was overjoyed when the new owner gave her a written occupancy permit for 25 years, and the trust built a nice cabin on the property and had the barn rehabbed. May was paid a small salary to be the caretaker of the property. It was the getaway/hideaway place for Iimja and Yssup and, most importantly, the place where they eventually had to return to the future. Having gathered all the data they needed about the commercial side of sex, the couple from the future wanted to explore another angle. They rented a house in the suburbs and subscribed to wife-swapper publications. Turns out there were a few couples of that persuasion in the area, just as they thought, and they made contacts. This time they pretended to be married. Getting the amateur side of sex was more fun than the professional because they could really do in-depth interviews and see how the relationships evolved. They had fewer partners but more quality ones. Of course, there were the occasional swapper parties where you were paired up by the draw of cards or some other random thing. They enjoyed the visits to adult nudist resorts because they were reminded of the commune days. The visits to Mother May were regular but grew less frequent. Some side excursions to check out adult bookstores and movie theaters added a little to the story. Difficult to probe into the minds of people, mostly men, who frequented such places, but Yssup was able to get a few to overnight with her and picked their brains a bit. It was the year 2000. The research project was ending, and things had to be wrapped up. Back in the early 80s, Iimja had established a small nonprofit research foundation and given the land trust to it. He had gradually donated his investments as well, keeping a stash of cash and gold sufficient for a nice undocumented lifestyle. He'd managed the stocks well and, in late 1999, sold all of the holdings just before the big market crash. Many were in high tech and had swollen in value rapidly. The foundation was worth $20 million. That was enough to set some research goals for a small human staff. The findings were not to be published but archived in a particular way and stored in a particular place, able to be retrieved safely far in the future. Time to wrap up this extended visit. The property was sold to the developers as expected. A somewhat puzzling provision was that Mother May's cabin was to be relocated to a spot at the edge of the property when development started, and she granted lifetime occupancy. Her Social Security had started, so she was set. The commune was long dissolved, and Reverend Bill deceased, but May usually kept a young man or two around to help with chores, which included exercising her pussy. She always wanted to be in shape when Iimja visited. On one of these visits, the couple took her down to the beach. Iimja started, "Dear Mother May. I have known you for a long time, and I love you dearly, as does Yssup. There are some things we need to share with you. You met us more than 30 years ago, yet, except for some grey that we put in our hair, we have not aged at all. That is because we are not regular humans. I think you'd better sit down." Yssup continued, "We are sex researchers from far in the future. This was an interesting era to study, and you have helped us immensely. We purchased this land and have done other things to make your life comfortable. We are not supposed to reveal the future, but I can say you will have a long life. We have to go back in a few days." May looked at them. "I knew there was something special about you two, but couldn't put my finger on it. That helps me understand a lot of things, and I'm content with that. If I've helped others in the present with my commune, or in the future with your work, then I have made a difference and am happy. I know to keep this completely confidential even though anyone I told would think I was doing drugs again. "You know I love both of you like my children. Speaking of which, Rebecca and her four kids are coming tomorrow. Miriam has two. Let's have a beach party!" Iimja and Yssup looked at each other. What a great finale to their trip. Rebecca and Miriam were overjoyed to see the two. It had been a very long time. They introduced their children, all by different fathers except that one daughter of each might have the same one. No marital bonds to cause trouble either. After a fun afternoon naked in the sun and surf, a picnic dinner, and a campfire at the beach, the middle-age kids took the youngest to the cabin, and the adults got down to some serious fun. Both of the daughters' current male companions, noticeably younger and fit, had coupled with Mother May before, so they were hot for Yssup. The daughters were hungry for Iimja. That left the daughters' oldest, a boy and a girl, to refresh their cousinly coupling for starters. They were joined by May's consort, a man in his early thirties. Lots of lusty sounds in the dim moonlight. Bodies moving together and changing places to merge with other bodies until the normal humans were sated. Next was a group rinse off in the beach shower and deciding who would sleep with whom. The next day, some mats were set up away from the main area so that couples (or more) could play away from the youngsters. On one such private coupling, Rebecca looked at Iimja and remarked, "You sure must have good genes. I don't think you look or feel any older than when we first fucked almost thirty years ago. How do you do it?" "My father was very long-lived, so I guess I will be too." If she heard the real numbers, she would have been shocked. "Well, I wish you could have fathered one of my children. You are much more the man than any of the ones that did. You know I still love you best." "I know, and you will always be special to me, just like your mother." They made love sweetly and for a long time. The morning after all the others left, Mother May accompanied them to the returning place. She hugged and kissed both of them with tears in her eyes. No words were needed; goodbyes had already been said. May turned away as the time travelers lay down on the grass. When she turned back, their molecules were blowing away in the breeze. "Dust to dust" popped into her mind. She sat down and cried for a while. Not for them, but for her own loss. Going back to the cabin, she used the key Iimja had given her to open the heavy suitcase they left. Inside was a lot of currency and gold with a note. "We know you will spend this wisely." The first thing she did was get a marble marker with their names, which she placed where they had departed. She hoped they'd find it in the future, not knowing that it would be under many feet of ocean by then. Her ashes were scattered at that very spot many years later by her daughters. When the travelers emerged from their enclosures, they looked at each other and laughed. What puny bodies! Their very first action was to visit the cloning laboratories and talk to the head of R&D. They gave him the specifications of their avatars and said, "Build these for us!" Life and love was about to change in their time... END	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/82/floridaisforlovers2.txt
62,162	An_Erotica_Addict	Adventure Ride	You woke up around 11 a.m. on Saturday morning, after spending the night alone - your first Friday night alone since you and Nikki started dating just over two months ago. While Nikki went out with some girlfriends last night, you stayed in, opting for watching TV. You and Nikki started off as friends online, building a friendship through chatting and joking, and getting to know each other. Two months of dating each other had flown by so quickly because the friendship just came easy. You both enjoy each other's company, you enjoy renting movies together, you enjoy cooking meals together, and you enjoy lying in bed together, just falling asleep in each other's arms after a passionate night of foreplay and great sex. This was becoming a comfortable routine for both of you. Although you weren't a "couple," neither of you was dating any other people. Nor were you looking. You both had an understanding that you would take each day as it came, as long as the friendship came easy, and you were both having fun, just go with it. As you lay in bed, wishing you had Nikki's soft curvy body to hug onto, you acknowledged your growing morning hard-on by giving it a little tug. Ahhhh, you wish Nikki was there lying on her side, her round naked ass exposed and inviting. Mmmmm, how you loved waking her up in the middle of the night by spooning her warm smooth ass. She loved nothing better than feeling your hard cock poking her gently between the crack of her ass. She always stirred in her sleep slowly, letting out a soft moan, as she arched her back, sticking out her ass for you. God damn you think, how'd I get so lucky finding Nikki? Just lying in bed, thinking of her soft curvy ass had, by now, given you a raging hard-on, which was now starting to get painful. You throw the covers back from the bed, and climb out of bed to make your regular morning trip to the bathroom. On the way to the bathroom, the full-length mirror catches your eye. You stand in front of it, then turn to the side, you flex your muscles, then turn so your butt is in the mirror, and squeeze your ass cheeks together, "Yeah," not bad you think, "I still got it going on!" You leave the mirror, cuz if you didn't pee soon, your rock-hard cock was going to bust! Just as you finishing peeing, you hear the phone ring. You give your hands a quick wash and race out to grab your phone. "Hello," you say. "Morning honey, how'd you sleep?" answered the sexy voice on the other end. "Morning beautiful, I slept great, how was your night out last night with the girls?" "Fantastic, I'll tell you about it later when I see you," she replied. "Oh? You feel like doing something later?" you wonder. "Well, I do have something in mind, but I need you for the evening. You up for an adventure?" she sounded sexier than ever. "Hell yeah, what do you have in mind?" you ask Nikki. "Well, I'll come and pick you up around 7ish, and we'll go from there," she answered. "Okay, anything I need to do, or bring with me?" you ask. "Nope, just have a shower, dress comfortably, and make sure you spray on a little bit of that cologne I bought you last week!" she breathed. "Mmmmm, you're on baby, now I'm so excited, I'm dying to know what you have planned!" you reply. "Ahhhh my love, never you mind, let's just say you won't be disappointed!" Nikki says. "I can't wait to see you," you say, "see you tonight beautiful!" For the rest of the day, you wondered what Nikki has in mind. As you two were growing very comfortable with one another, both intimately and sexually, you had a feeling you were in for a fun evening. When you and Nikki first started "chatting" online, you had a few discussions about sex. The typical: "What's your favourite position?" "Where's the wildest place you've ever had sex?" "What's off-limits for you?" "What's your wildest but not lived out fantasy?" In the two months of being with Nikki, you and her had already done a few kinky things in bed, so as far as growing closer together on a sexual level, you were making strides together every day. Just the thought of what she had planned for you tonight made you instantly horny. "God what a fucking sexy woman, just talking to her on the phone made me hard as hell!" you think to yourself. You walk over to the full-length mirror again, admiring your physique and your hard cock. You figure what the hell, might as well blow a load now so you'll be able to go all night tonight. You start stroking your hard cock while standing in front of the mirror. "God, I look great," you think, "why haven't I ever masturbated in front of a mirror before?" The more you watched yourself in the mirror, the thicker your cock grew. You stroked your cock while tugging at your scrotum trying to control your orgasm. "Oh god, this feels so fucking good," you think to yourself, "all I need is Nikki here, on her knees sucking on this load, while I watch her reflection in the mirror and I'd be near Heaven!" Your stroking so hard right now, hitting all the veins along your hard cock. You grab your scrotum and squeeze hard. "This feels so goddamn good," you moan "God I have to cum soon!" Your back starts to arch and you start groaning, oh God, your stroking increases in speed. You squeeze the head, some pre-cum squirts out on your fingers, and you bring it up to your lips. "Mmmmm, tastes great," you think. You begin thinking about what Nikki has in store for you this evening, and that helps increase blood flow to your hard cock. You're stroking with all your might now, sweat is pouring down your forehead now, and the muscles in your arms are flexed as you stroke your beautiful cock in the mirror. "Goddamn, this is fucking hot," you think, "I gotta do this in front of the mirror more often!" With that, you let out a loud grunt as you explode! Your cum shoots out with enough force to hit the mirror, squirt after squirt after squirt. Your cock is twitching as you feel the hot contents of your balls empty out all over your hand and the mirror in front of you. As your cum begins to run slowly down the mirror, you look around the room (as if to wonder if anyone can see you), and figure "what the hell, why not?" and stick your tongue out. You run your tongue along the mirror licking up all your hot salty cum. "Ahhhhh, no wonder women love giving blow jobs," you think, "how can you not love this taste?" After eating up all your cum, you decide to take a nap before starting to get ready for your hot date tonight with your lover Nikki. You set your alarm for 4 p.m. just in case you fall into a deep sleep and need to be awakened. At 4 p.m. you're awakened by your alarm going off. Your first thought leads you to what your sexy Nikki has in store for you this evening. With that thought, you jump out of bed with excitement, and decide to hop in the shower and start getting ready. You make your way to the bathroom where you brush your teeth, and shave your face. While shaving your face, you ponder the thought of shaving your pubic area. "Hmmmmm, something different, I've never tried it, but what the hell, apparently tonight is going to be filled with surprises, so maybe I'll give Nikki her own surprise too!" You decide to trim down your pubic hair first with a pair of scissors, to help smooth the shaving process. After trimming the hair, you lather up with shaving cream, feels good, nice and cold on your skin. You lower your razor down to your nether region and decide, "Well, here goes nothing!" You start with your first scrape, then another, then one more, before too long, your pubic area, and your scrotum are completely shaved. "Looks a little funny, but it sure feels sexy as hell," you think to yourself. You turn on the taps in the shower and adjust it to the right temperature, then pull the lever to turn on the shower. You grab your can of shaving cream and jump into the hot shower. You lather up your head and begin carefully shaving your scalp. "Have to make sure it's a nice close shave cuz I know how much Nikki loves when my head is freshly shaved. She always compliments me on how smooth my head is," and with this thought, you let out a little chuckle thinking, "she'll be getting two freshly shaved heads tonight!!" After scrubbing your body with that fuzzy little loofa thingy that Nikki left here on one of her overnight visits, you rinse off with the hottest water possible. You make sure every nook and cranny is clean on your body, cuz it sounds like tonight anything can happen, and knowing Nikki, probably will!You pull back the shower curtains and grab for a nice plush towel, again a gift from Nikki, because she's such a shower queen and loves to pamper her body with pretty things. You towel dry your body, then climb out of the shower. You make sure to dry between each toe, and you make sure to dry your belly button out too. You then grab for a Q-Tip to get that little bit of water out of your ears. As you whistle out loud, "Ahhhh, clean as a whistle!" You reach for some moisturizing cream and slather it on your freshly shaved head, and figure what the hell, might as well put a squirt of this cream down there too since it's freshly shaved too! You leave the steamy bathroom and head for the bedroom to start getting dressed. As you stand in front of your closet, your mind recalls the conversation with Nikki this morning, "...dress comfortably..." You decide to go with a pair of sand-colored khaki pants and a crisp white cotton shirt with buttons. You put on a pair of socks, then slide your feet into your leather loafers. "There, all set for tonight, with 15 minutes to spare too," you think to yourself. "Ahhhh, one more thing." You reach down on your dresser for the cologne Nikki bought you last week, "HUMMER" and think to yourself, "how appropriate!" You squeeze the trigger and squirt a little on each side of your neck. "Mmmmm, I have to admit, this cologne is great, and I know Nikki loves it too, so hopefully she'll meet with her approval tonight." You hear a knock on your door at exactly 7 p.m. "Good timing," you think. You answer the door, and are blown away with how hot Nikki looks. She's wearing a white blouse that crisscrosses in the front, and plunges down low exposing her large beautiful breasts. She opted for a tight black skirt, bare legs, and the prettiest black high-heeled sandals with rhinestones. Her red hair was in an up-do, with a few long strands of curls cascading down to complement her round face. "God she has the most incredible blue eyes I've ever seen," you think. You pull her close to you into a nice warm hug. "Hi beautiful, God are you a sight for sore eyes! You look so beautiful tonight, are you sure you don't want to just stay in tonight and have a private party for two?" Nikki whispers in your ear, "As tempting as that is lover, I'm sure you won't be disappointed with what I have in store for you!" She nibbles on your ear, sending a shock straight down your body, the biggest jolt to your cock, which has already started to stir in your pants. "Mmmmm honey, you put on that special cologne I bought you, you smell sexy as hell and you look good enough to eat!" she whispers throatily. "Mmmmm, feast all you want baby!" you respond, as you pull Nikki in closer for another hug. You feel her large breasts against your chest and wish that you could devour her body right then and there! Nikki tells you to turn around so that your back is facing her. You comply. You hear her rustling with something from inside her purse. All of a sudden, you feel a piece of fabric sliding over your shaved head and realize that it's a blindfold of some sort. "Ahhhh, blind-folding me huh baby?" "Yup, told you tonight was going to be an adventure! Are you ready lover?" "Ready as I'll ever be, lead the way!" With that, Nikki grabs your arm and helps you out the door as she locks it behind you. She leads you down to her car, and helps place you in the front seat. She buckles your seat-belt, then closes the passenger door behind you. You can hear the clicking of her high-heels from outside and you think it's one of the sexiest sounds ever. You hear her car door open and hear her body slide in the seat next to you. She starts the engine, and puts the car in 1st gear and drives away. "And so my adventure begins right baby?" "Oh yeah honey, and then some!" She winks at you, unbeknownst to you, as you can't see it, nor the devilish smile that crosses across her lips... You drive for what feels to be about 15 minutes in total silence, but being blindfolded has also diminished any capacity to judge the amount of time that's gone by. The engine stops, and you hear her open her car door. Then the click, click, click of her high-heels and then you feel the cool breeze when the passenger door opens up. She takes your arm and helps you out of the car, then closes the door behind you. She walks you up a few stairs, and knocks on what sounds to be a heavy wooden door. You hear the creaking of a door as it opens and you hear a woman's voice saying, "Ahhhhh Miss. Nikki, come on in!" As you enter the house you smell the mixture of incense and marijuana burning throughout the house, and vaguely hear the sound of Jimi Hendrix's "Purple Haze" playing in the background. "Am I allowed to take this blindfold off now baby?" "No, not yet honey, be patient!" The lady of the manor offers you both a drink. You ask for a beer, and Nikki asks for a chocolate martini. The lady, who you've since learned, is named Raven. "Figures," you think, "the incense, the marijuana, Jimi Hendrix, and a woman named Raven?!? Nikki's brought me to some hippie chick's house!" As Raven hands you a beer, she runs her nails along your smooth head. "Oh Miss. Nikki, his smooth head is lovely indeed!" Having Raven that close to you left a lingering smell of Patchouli in your vicinity, and your only thought was, "Yup, Raven's a hippie!" Being blindfolded was not only exciting, but also a little scary too. Your mind started racing with crazy thoughts of, "Who else is in the house? What do they have planned for me? Am I going to get hurt in some way? No, that's not possible. Nikki's a sweet, loving girl and wouldn't let any harm come my way!" You hear Raven whisper to Nikki, "So, does he know anything yet?" "Nope, not a thing," You mind starts to race, "Know what? What are they talking about?" You hear footsteps shuffling across the floor, and can only hope that it's a good thing. You had to admit, being blindfolded was a thrill a second of excitement, fear, intrigue, paranoia, and you liked feeling that way! The footsteps you heard were indeed Nikki's. "Baby, stand up, let me help you get more relaxed," and with that she began unzipping your pants and sliding them down your legs. As she pulls your pants from around your ankles, she yanks your socks off too. Your cock is already forming a tent in your underwear and you can't wait to have them pulled down your legs too. You can feel Nikki's massive breasts against your chest and you can feel her breath just inches from your face. "God even her breath smells beautiful!" you think, as you're tempted to yank your blindfold off, but resist in doing so. Nikki grabs a hold of the front seam of your shirt, and suddenly rips open your shirt with all her might, as you hear buttons go flying to the floor. "Goddamn girl, I liked that shirt!" "Yeah, but I'm sure you're gonna like this a whole lot more honey! We'll buy you a new shirt in the morning, so just relax and enjoy this," said Nikki. "Okay baby, I trust you!" "You shouldn't," she says with a devilish grin on her face! "What?!" you scream! Next thing you know, you're being pushed down on what feels like a mattress. "Lie back honey." You do as you're told, out of fear of what will happen to you if you don't comply with the orders. Nikki slides onto the bed and very slowly pulls down your briefs, allowing your hard cock to spring straight up into the air. Nikki says, "OMYGOD honey, you shaved all your pubic hair off, I love it! How sexy!" You respond back with, "You're not the only one who can give surprises beautiful!" Raven says, "Miss. Nikki, I think he's a little excited, what do you think?" Nikki responds with, "I think he likes to be dominated like this!" Next thing you know, your arms are being tied to the posts on the headboard behind you. You wish you could see who this was. Was it Nikki or was it Raven? Whoever it was, was making sure there was no way you were getting untied from this bed! You had to admit, you DO love being dominated like this! Your cock was rock hard by this point from the excitement and the unknown. You'd never experienced excitement and fear like this all at the same time, but you knew that you were up for the adventure! You hear the mattress creak a little and realize that someone else is on the bed with you. You realize that whomever it is, is coming closer to your face. You feel skin touch the sides of your ears and realize that it feels like shins. Someone is now lowering themselves down on your freshly shaved head! You feel the weight of what you believe is a female now sitting on your bald head. Yes, it's definitely a female, which immediately excites you. Whoever is now rubbing themselves on your head, has a shaved pussy! The feeling of a freshly shaved pussy rubbing all around your shaved head is so intense you feel the need to let out a loud moan! "Oh Miss. Nikki, I think he likes this, a lot!" Nikki responds with, "Slide down Raven, let him lick your hot wet pussy!" Next thing you know, you feel the pressure of someone sitting on your head, suddenly lift off you. You feel an ass sliding down your forehead, your blindfolded eyes, your nose, and land on your mouth. The smell of pussy just ran across your nose and did it smell delicious! You had to taste it! You stick your tongue out and slowly start lapping at this bald pussy that's now sitting directly down on your face. If you moved your head up just slightly, you might be able to put the tip of your nose at the entrance of her asshole. "Oh God, I can't do that," you think, "I won't be able to breathe! Oh fuck it, just for a few seconds!While lapping at her hot, wet pussy, you maneuver your nose so that it's at the base of her asshole and slowly begin making circles with your nose, rimming her asshole ever so slightly. Raven let out a huge moan, obviously she was enjoying this immensely! Before your brain could even comprehend what was happening, you felt a pair of hands on your hard cock. Once again, being blindfolded, you didn't know if it was Nikki or another surprise guest! You didn't care at this point, all you knew is that you were thankful someone was now stroking your hard cock!! You were so glad at this point that you had jerked off earlier in front of the mirror, because Lord knows if you hadn't have cum earlier today, you would have cum by now! The hand that was on your cock has now been removed, and it's been replaced by a mouth!! "OMYGOD, this is fucking hot," you hear Raven scream! You're in Heaven right now, you have a pussy on your mouth that's dripping wet, and you have a mouth on your screaming hard cock, what could be better? The feelings of exhilaration are now permeating every sense you have! Your sense of smell is being fulfilled, your sense of taste is being fulfilled, the sounds of Raven screaming in pleasure, and the sounds of Nikki screaming to Raven, "That's it, bitch, ride his face! I wanna see you gush all over his face like I taught you to do! Remember when I ate your pussy for hours, till you were begging me to stop, and you gushed all over my face, that's what I wanna see you do to him!" The only senses that weren't being satisfied were those of touch and sight; a result of being tied to the headboard and blindfolded. Although you couldn't "see" what was going on, you could certainly picture it in your mind. A woman sitting on your face, a mouth sucking on your hard cock, and your sexy girlfriend is off to the side, screaming obscenities to the woman sitting on your face! Barking orders at her, calling her names, and demanding that she cum all over your face like she did to your girlfriend's face! "Oh God, just to picture Nikki eating out a chick is Heaven enough for me, why couldn't I be there to watch that?" you think to yourself! Could it get any better than this? Next thing you know, you feel another pair of hands on your body, right at your knee caps. Could be female, as the hand span is quite small. These pair of hands help bend your knees up, so you're almost in a fetal position now, when all of a sudden, you feel cold lube begin inserted into your ass. "Holy fuck." You want to scream, but Raven's lovely pussy is covering your mouth. "I think I'm gonna get fucked up, literally!" you think to yourself. Next thing you know, you feel what appears to be a penis inserting into your asshole. A good fake dildo? A real man? A strap-on? For that split-second, you couldn't tell the difference. All of a sudden, you feel a pair of thighs up against the back of your legs. Ahhhh, definitely female, the skin is so soft! You hear Nikki say, "Baby, I've been wanting to do this for so long, how do you feel with a strap-on up your ass?" Then the full penetration happens, and the strap-on fills your hole! "OMYGOD, it's official, I'm in Heaven!!!" you think, "I'm eating this hot, sloppy pussy, my hard cock is being sucked, and I've got my ass filled with a strap-on!" The intense rush you felt in that split second sent a jolt through your entire body. Your back begins to arch upwards, forcing even more of your hard cock into whoever's mouth was sucking! You were officially in sensory overload! You want to scream at the top of your lungs, "I HAVE DIED AND GONE TO HEAVEN!!" Instead, all you can think of is, "Holy fuck, Nikki wasn't kidding when she asked if I was up for an adventure!!! Fucking awesome, Goddamn, how'd I get so lucky to meet Nikki! She's helping fulfill one of my many fantasies of having a 4-some, but when we talked about it, it was supposed to be a swap thing, not 3 people all over me solely! I can't fucking complain though, 'cause this beats a swap any day!" Your balls are so fucking full right now, filled with cum that was dying to shoot out! You hear Nikki say, "Okay, pull off the blindfold!" All of a sudden, you feel another pair of hands gently pull off the blindfold. It only took a split-second for your eyes to adjust to what your surroundings really were: Raven, lying across your stomach, with your tongue in her pussy, Nikki, slamming into your ass with a strap-on, and a good-looking, tanned, surfer-type dude's was sucking on your cock. All around the bed, leaning back on chairs, was every single woman you've ever had sex with, naked, and masturbating. "HOLY FUCKING MOTHER OF GOD!!" Is all you can think, "This is the hottest fucking sex I've ever had in my life!!!" And suddenly your hard cock explodes, slamming the tanned, surfer dude's mouth with streams of your hot, sticky cum, Raven cums at the same moment, gushing her sweet, hot pussy juice all into your mouth, you can't swallow quick enough to catch all the sweetness of her pussy, and Nikki cums as well, as she slams that strap-on as far into your asshole as she can, hitting your prostate with enough force that you can't stop cumming!!! As you're cumming, with Raven and Nikki, everyone else moans with utter relief and pleasure. Slowly, one by one, every girl that's lying around the bed, starts to cum! Bodies are shaking, cum is squirting, the room smells of hot sex, hot cum, hot pussy, and you know that this is what the afterlife feels like!!! When I die, I hope Heaven is just half as beautiful as what I'm seeing right now! Nikki says, "Raven, get off his face now, I wanna hear him!!" Raven complies slowly as the last drops of her pussy juice slide down on your lips and chin. You let out the loudest moan of pleasure that your brain can ever recollect. Nikki says, "Baby, how do you like this adventure? Did you enjoy it?" The only thing you can scream is, "Oh baby, buy me a season's pass to this theme-park Adventure Ride!"	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/36/adventure.txt
62,362	Esmelover	Daddy's Doggie Girl	Yasmine was Carl's beautiful daughter. She was fifteen years old and a pure daddy's girl. She had grown up a lot in the last year, her five-foot-two-inch body supporting wonderful 32B cup breasts. Yasmine's long brown hair fell just short of her waist, and Carl was always telling his daughter to get it cut. She wouldn't, though, and secretly he was happy about that. Carl had been married for 16 years now, and lately his wife Wendy had been having affairs behind his back. Carl didn't care, though; he didn't love Wendy anymore. Yasmine was all that was important. Carl was finding that he couldn't allow her to sit on his knee anymore. Her lovely small bum would press up on his thighs, and Carl would almost be able to feel her soft bum cheeks through her jeans. He would get an erection immediately. Carl was terrified Yasmine would feel his hard dick pressing up on her, so he always made excuses to stop her sitting on him. Carl blamed his erections on the lack of sex he had had with his wife Wendy. He found it terribly hard to make love to her when he didn't love her. But Carl didn't want to get divorced for Yasmine's sake. Carl knew he had wrong urges towards Yasmine, though. He wanted to please her and make love to her and to kiss her passionately. He had dreams of fucking her hard but in a passionate, loving way. He again blamed all these feelings on his lack of sex. It was a Monday morning, and the whole family was getting ready for work and school. Wendy came down from Yasmine's room, informing Carl that Yasmine was staying at home that day. She felt sick. Carl nodded, and with that, Wendy left for work. Carl quickly fed the Dalmatian dog Bart and ran upstairs to say goodbye to Yasmine. Carl walked into her room slowly and saw his perfect daughter. Never having been touched by a boy, she was pure. "I'm off to work now, angel. Are you okay?" Carl asked. "Yes, Daddy, I'm fine," she replied. Carl walked over to her to give her a kiss. As Carl kissed her, he felt himself getting a huge erection. Carl quickly wandered out of her room, embarrassed, and went to work. Yasmine wasn't sick at all that day. She had plans for the day. "Bart, come here, boy. Bart!" Yasmine called. The huge Dalmatian ran upstairs, knowing how good his day would be. Bart jumped up on to Yasmine's bed, and Yasmine started stroking her dog. Yasmine got out of bed and started stripping for her dog, almost teasing him. She was naked, standing in front of her Dalmatian. Her long hair flowed down her back. Her shaven pussy was wet with anticipation. Her wonderful breasts hung loose and firm. Yasmine leaned over Bart. He immediately looked up and licked at her breasts. Yasmine moaned slightly with the strong feeling. Yasmine had started playing with Bart in this way for a year. Ever since her best friend told her about doggie sex. The only downside was that sometimes, when all of Yasmine's family were around, Bart tried to mount her. When she's alone, Yasmine would only be too happy to get down on her hands and knees and let him fuck her. She had fucked him in every room, even her parents', just because Bart wanted! Yasmine lay down on the floor, and Bart jumped off the bed and immediately started licking his mate. Yasmine groaned in pleasure. Each lick Bart made, Yasmine would release more love juice. Yasmine started raising her hips to meet the dog's tongue. Her orgasm came quickly. That was just a warm-up. Bart's cock was sticking out fully now. It was hard and long. Yasmine sometimes didn't understand how she took that inside her tight pussy. Bart knew what was coming. He started humping the air in anticipation while licking her dripping pussy. Neither Yasmine nor Bart heard the front door open. Carl had come back, forgetting some paperwork. Yasmine, oblivious of her dad's early arrival, got on to her hands and knees. Bart knew what to do and mounted her instantly. His cock pushed against her tight love hole. Her pussy lips parted, and juice dripped down. Bart lunged forward. "Ooh, God, Bart, Ooh!" Yasmine screamed in pleasure. Carl heard his daughter scream at Bart. It wasn't a terrified scream, though. Carl was puzzled and ran upstairs. As he reached the landing, he heard a rhythmic pounding on the floor. Carl was quiet. He peeked around his daughter's door, and what he saw shocked him. Bart was humping forward, banging his balls on Yasmine's clit. She was moaning in delight. Her juices were dripping on the ground now, and Bart was going slowly. Bart's cock was getting fatter, making Yasmine's pussy expand even more. Bart kept up his humping, wanting to make the pleasure last for both him and his bitch. Carl was very turned on, his erection getting uncomfortable against his tight jeans. He started rubbing his huge dick through his jeans. Yasmine was beginning to come. "Fuck me, Bart, with that big doggie cock. Fuck me hard, Bart, HARDER!" Yasmine screamed at Bart. She kept screaming at Bart to fuck her hard. Bart knew what she wanted. He picked up his speed. He humped her fast and hard. Yasmine humped back to meet his thrusts. Bart's knot expanded inside her. But Bart kept thrusting it inside her. Yasmine was having multiple orgasms now. She kept thrusting back at Bart, making his dick go further and further inside her. Bart stopped, spraying gallon after gallon of his hot cream inside her. Yasmine orgasmed again. She just moaned now. Minutes passed, and Bart slid down. Yasmine sat up and stroked him. Carl had loved watching his daughter fuck a dog, but he was also jealous. He loved her, and he wanted her to be all his. Not in a father-daughter way. His cock was throbbing. He pushed the door open and walked over to Yasmine. Yasmine looked horrified. Carl knelt down and hugged his daughter hard. They looked at each other for a few seconds, then passionately kissed. Carl felt his daughter's tongue push into his mouth to find his tongue. That battled their tongues about, then broke the kiss. "You know this is wrong, don't you, and that we shouldn't do it?" Carl asked his daughter. "I want you, Daddy," Yasmine replied. They stood up, Yasmine started undressing her father. Carl was ready to come just from being undressed by her. But he knew he wanted and needed to come inside her. They kissed hard. Yasmine lowered her dad on the bed. She looked at her dad's huge dick; it was bigger than Bart's. She hadn't taken something so big. She lowered her head to her dad's 9-inch dick and let it enter her mouth. Carl was astounded that his daughter did this for him. His wife Wendy never had. He concentrated on not coming in her mouth. Her gentle licks sent chills through his body. He pulled her mouth off him. He couldn't take it anymore. He pulled his daughter on top of him. He lowered her down on his cock. Yasmine pushed down hard. She came instantly from being so filled. Her father pulled and pushed her up and down on his rock-hard cock. Yasmine's juices fell down his shaft and over his balls. It all became too much for Yasmine. "Fuck me hard, Daddy," she cried. Carl pounded his daughter; she came over and over on his cock, creaming over him. She cried out with delight. Yasmine had never come so strongly. Carl buried his cock in his daughter and pumped his seed into her womb. He moaned with the strength of his orgasm. Yasmine and Carl lay together, not father and daughter anymore but lovers. Carl rang up work and told his boss he was very sick. Yasmine and Carl made love three more times that day. They talked about Yasmine's mother, and she told her father he should divorce her. Carl did as Yasmine said and divorced her mother. He bought a new house, and Yasmine lived with him full-time. Wendy never cared much. She didn't realize the two were lovers. Yasmine became pregnant with Carl's baby. When it was time for her to go to college, they moved again, and Yasmine stayed with her father and baby. Carl offered her to find new men, but all Yasmine wanted was Carl. They had three more children, and Yasmine became a nurse. When Carl got older and he couldn't please her with his dick as often, his big fingers came in useful. They always kept dogs too!	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/72/daddysdoggygirl.txt
62,407	Thane KlenS	Phoenix Debris Snatchers	You could hear the calming whispers of the air passing by our windows, exhaling into our mouths, my wife's in particular. The October birds and plants were abound on either side of the road, and the ominous blue and purple hue of the sunset was painted across the waking starry night sky. The gentle tapping of jeweled earrings against my wife's ears as she rested her head against the window, now only opened halfway. Her red velvet lips reflecting highlights of white skylight, and her face lit by the fading sun. You could just smell the pure intoxicating aroma of plants, grass, leaves, trees, passing through our windows in combination with the strong, high-class perfume of an exotic and gorgeous woman, as we became a wisp of sound in the distance. The road seemed unnaturally clear and straight, leading us in the direction of the new location of the Comic and Anime convention. I, personally, had only indulged in comics and anime when I was a kid in high school and college. My wife, on the other hand, had savored the nostalgia for a special weekend that came once every year: the convention. The Year: 20XX The Place: Manhattan, NY, USA My wife, a real woman of her own right, had tailored and fitted her own Jean Grey costume as the Phoenix from X-Men. Most men and women would inquire about her physique and fitness upon first glance, but her true strength is in her charm and charisma. She walks with dignity and acquired majesty along with seductive and almost conciliatory flirtatious magma. She is an older woman, I will say she is under the age of 40, and always dresses and carries herself with the weight of a true female; confidence and dripping with carnal tastes. She does not think of herself in regards to her age, she acknowledges that she is a woman and she has an understanding that she can apply herself to get what she wants in life. Being Indian by nature and tradition (right down to the lingering accent) has made her an exotic fruit in the states. Most call her "busty." Unlike the stereotype, she takes care of herself in every sense: She uses expensive and professional creams and moisturizers and the latest cosmetics and makeup. She shaves in all the right areas, down and around. She smells intoxicating on every smooth, lightly tanned surface on her body, and her figure, despite her motorcycle accident last year, has been kept fit and curvaceous. Her breasts, although larger than her cosplay character's, fit her figure nicely, though she has at times needed to use a back and waist strap for support while at home. Many times while in the city of New York we've encountered barrages of wandering hands, some more forward than others, approach and wander the curves of her bottom. I have to admit even I find her irresistible at times when I see her unbuttoning her work dress or when she unzips her outfits. There is a subtlety to her disposition; the way she walks, stands, holds and touches things all relay back to me as erotic. She knows how much of a woman she is and she knows that any man of any age will try to get a chance to be with her. That's why she likes the more fun challenge of young "nerds." We are in the car, already late to the convention, but for good reason. We had decided to check out the local bars around in case we wanted to head over after the con, and she, being the opportunist she is, found sanctuary in the firm grip of the bouncer to an exclusive club in the neighborhood on her firm ass. She manipulated him easily into getting us on the VIP list for the exclusive club the weekend, and as a thank you gift she pressed her tight but voluptuously and curvaceously plump body against his tight, buff bouncer body along with a long and seductive kiss that would make a man's heart, along with his pants, go hard. As they pulled their lips apart from the wet pressure of the kiss, my wife exhaled in deep breaths. Adding to her sly, seductive look in her eyes as she walked away from him, she elegantly licked her bottom lip with the tip of her tongue and swung her long, black, glamorous hair back as she took my hand and I led us out to the car. Before I unlocked the car, I pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lit one, and inhaled calmly and patiently. The warm, toxic smoke snaked down my throat into my lungs and warmed my chest. As I exhaled, I could feel the dispersing heat of my breath into the colder night air against my lips. I couldn't help but grin as I catered to myself in that moment of post-pleasure. I turned and saw a look of bereavement on my wife's face with modest puppy dog eyes. I handed her the cigarette and she began a similar routine as I had. Though she does not actively smoke cigarettes, if the occasion calls for it she will from time to time politely ask for one to embrace a higher level of a naturally pleasing moment. You could see the reflection of the cigarette's flame on her lips as she limply held the fag with both lips. When she was done, she discretely slid the tip of her tongue around the curvature of the back of the cigarette in her mouth and then flicked it with her wrist onto the ground. I unlocked the doors and we got back in the car. In the car, she changed into her costume, whereas before she had been wearing a black and red elegant dinner/dancing dress, slightly more high-class than the bar was accustomed to. My wife began undressing herself at a relaxed pace. Her physical movements and flashing glances let me know she was hungry. For the record, I, too, am very well kept. I am clean and trimmed usually in the right places and I do not, as most white men and women think, "smell like curry" or smell of anything less than alpha male prowess and expensive cologne. I may not have as smooth of skin as my wife, but I do have, also contrary to the stereotype, a thick and large meat hidden away in my pants. My wife may fondle with other men, but she worships my body, and especially my thick cock. If she had an Achilles heel, it would be my dick. She has some fascination with it in that she can only have it when I let her, but anyone else in the world would let her have theirs in an instant. My wife begins to take off her undershirt when she bites her lip and I look back at the road with one hand on the wheel and the other on her leg. I feel her hand, her elongated fingernails painted green for the occasion, stretch out and scratch against my pants on my leg, moving closer to the center of my lap. I glance at her from the corner of my eye and see that coy and needy look on her face as her eyes are bolted onto the bulge in my pants. Her hand continues to wander. You could hear the buzzing of night insects like grasshoppers and dragonflies, and the same natural, green, Eden-like scent pass through your face and hair as the car continued on its route to the con. I realized at some point my wife had undone my belt and zipper, opening a way to the thick, fun meat stick she wanted so badly. Her anticipation was almost too much, as was mine. I took her by the hair, holding her head with my hand, and forced her head onto my lap. Our car is spacious enough that she can lay on her side with her chest and head mostly facing upwards in my lap and not be uncomfortable. She pulled my cock out of my pants with her tongue alone and wrapped her tongue around the very tip. With her body so close now, I could smell the strong aroma of her perfume and it was even more arousing. My wife, a light-skinned Indian woman mind you, was now giggling right below me in my lap, smiling with a genuine look of naughty playfulness, with my cock growing inside her mouth. Her tongue writhed into my foreskin while still inside her mouth and she sucked on my cock while she licked at it from within the foreskin. She put her hand into my pants and began holding and playing with my sack while she continued to deep-throat my cock as I drove us to the Comic and Anime Convention. I tried to pay attention to the road, but I was too overly excited to pass on looking her over. She was a beautiful sight, being so engulfed in having my cock and balls, as hairy as they were so close to her mouth and body. Her breasts were so close to my cock, and unfortunately, I had not shaved my pubic region in a while due to forgetfulness, that the hair around my cock was being pressed between the back of her wrist and her cleavage. Her undershirt, basically a white tank top, was showing her now erect nipples on her fantastic breasts.I held her face down on my cock, feeling her wet and made-up lips and face meet my body's skin, her nose and eyes being pressed against my skin just under my bellybutton, pulling her hair tight around her head and forcing her to go down hard as my cock entered the entirety of her throat. One of her hands was pinching her nipple and sliding back and forth across her cleavage and chest, even twirling my pubic hair at times, the other explored my balls, rolling her fingers around and between them, feeling underneath them and between my balls and my leg, exploring every part of my body in my pants out of pure worship to my subjection. When I thought she had been down there long enough, I pulled her head back by her hair, and she spewed out my cock, without spilling a drop of saliva or pre-cum, gasping greatly for air to breathe. I pinched one of her nipples to play with her now overly sensitive body, and she dully, almost in a drunken stupor, flicked my hand away after I had already pinched her. She had drooled a bit on her chest, with slippery drips of pre-cum and saliva sliding in between her breasts. To preserve the dryness of her clothing, she wiped all the white fluid into her skin as if it were a daily skin regimen. My wife is very good with her body and features, and it is that mastery of beauty that allows her to do such filthy things with me and still look dashing afterwards. By the time we arrived at the convention, she had cleaned her hair and makeup up and was fully dressed in her costume. We pulled up to the parking lot, and I opened my door, walked to the other side, and held her hand up as I led her out of the car. With such a tight costume, her ass and tits, in complete form, were visible to everyone around her. A mother across the street, walking her child to the convention, covered her son's eyes and led him at a faster pace inside the convention center. The building itself was huge, and I knew my wife would get many great stares and touches from people all around. I knew by her walk, reminiscent of a runway-type walk, stepping almost one foot in front of the next, that she was fully confident in her body and what would happen during the day. As we passed large crowds of people who had regular passes, we saw many eyes staring hard at my wife from head to toe. It was night now, the stars were out, and we knew no one made moves out in the open outside of the convention normally, so we headed to the VIP entrance. We walked by the security by the VIP doors, and I flashed our identification slips. When we entered, we were welcomed with an immense 5-level building with sections for both anime and comic conventions. There were people of many ages, ranging from teenagers to 50-year-olds. My wife took me by the hand and led me through the overflowing crowd of attendees. I looked down at her body through the waves of arms and legs to see if anyone would bite, and I was right. A couple of boys, probably around the ages of 17 to 21, were crowding around my wife as she pulled me along. They were taller boys, but definitely young, one even had freckles. But they were not the type of boys my wife was truly interested in meeting, but she never let go of a little appetizer before her main course. As we walked through the diverse stampede of anime and comic character outfits, some even video game references, the troupe of boys circling us moved closer in to my wife. One boy was pointing to the other behind my wife's back while she spoke with the others in front of her. I couldn't make out what they were saying, but they were very animated about taking everyone somewhere. The tallest boy was wearing a dark blue baseball cap, had red hair and freckles, and an Iron Man t-shirt. He and a tall Korean boy, wearing a black biker jacket and a brown shirt underneath, were the ones discussing behind my wife's back. In front of her were 2 somewhat shorter Spanish boys, both wearing X-Men t-shirts, one Black boy who looked like he stereotypically worked out playing basketball, and a blond-haired blue-eyed boy who was wearing an X-Factor t-shirt. The thing I liked most about these boys was that they obviously were working together on a scheme. To the casual observer, it was more obvious, but to my wife, she was just indulging in small talk with the boys in front as we pressed through the crowd to go to her first event of the day. The Black boy was being especially charismatic with my wife, occasionally putting his hand on her arm or holding her hand when pleading with her to go with them somewhere. Eventually, after my eyes returned to my wife after having looked around at the magnificent women and men around us, the Korean boy was now in front with his arm around my wife's waist. He was acting very sly, making small talk that sounded only slightly suggestive to the casual observer. Meanwhile, the red-haired boy, still walking behind my wife and in front of me, with his left hand on my wife's back, was carefully trying to slide his hand down into the bottom section of her costume. Obviously, he was trying to put his hand down her pants and touch her ass. The crowd was so crazy and fast in pace that no one would notice except for me. We finally arrived at the artist's alley on the fourth floor, which by this hour had been packed up and closed. All that remained were some groups of high school kids sitting and talking with one another and empty booths. To remain inconspicuous, I let them continue walking, and I followed closely behind but casually so as not to draw attention. They banked around a corner, just past the men's restrooms, now huddled together tightly. I saw no one was really around, and my wife and her caretakers were out of sight just around that corner, so I took out my pack of cigarettes and lit a fresh joint I had prerolled earlier that day. I finished about half of it, unsure how much time had passed, then put it out and stashed it away for later. By now, I saw no one except 1 small group of maid cafe girls sitting against the walls near the escalators, probably waiting to meet their friends, and suspiciously a blond boy wearing an X-Factor shirt standing by the door, looking back and forth between the huge auditorium room and the escalators. I recognized him and remembered I was with my wife earlier. I waited for the blond boy to sit down and rest, lowering his attention to the room, to peak around the corner as though I were about to go to the men's room. My wife was there, just barely shorter than the rest of the thin yet tall group of young boys, with one of the boys holding her hand down their pants and the boy across from her holding her face to his lips, making out with her. It was the Korean boy who was making out with my wife, holding her face close to his. My wife was leaning over somewhat in my direction, though she did not know I was there. She moaned, and I noticed there was the Black boy behind her with that "look" that boys get when they are having a new sexual experience at a young age. That face that is somewhat filled with bewilderment and over-excitement. I had no doubt he was rubbing his hard-on in his pants over my wife's tight ass. I could see down her cleavage from this angle, and her necklace was hanging from her neck just in front of her full breasts. The red-haired boy was holding my wife's wrist in his pants, moving her hand up and down with a firm grip on her. Suddenly, the Korean boy stopped kissing her and pushed her from her belly against the wall. She was barely taken aback with a flirtatious grin on her face, biting her bottom lip. The Korean boy took her wrists while the other boys watched. He held her hands above her head with one hand and pulled out a Swiss army knife with the other. I was watching idly by just across from them out of their view. My wife was squirming sexily with her hips rubbing back and forth against the carpeted wall. Even I could hear her ass rubbing against those fibers. The boy moved his hand with the knife just under the start of her top half of her costume, but she quickly took out her hand from his grip and held his wrist in the air. The boy looked shocked. "No... I like this outfit," my wife said with a whisper of her lips, looking him gently and seductively in the eyes. She let go of his wrist and slid her hand over his arm, to his chest, over his flat belly and into his black jean pants. The Korean boy put his knife away and moved in closer to my wife, with her hand pressed between her body and his cock in his pants. The boy started viciously making out with my wife, sliding his hands down her sides and over her hips. I now had a raging hard-on in my pants, pulsating, and I had unconsciously started rubbing my hand over it outside my pants. I looked around the room from where I was standing; I was in the perfect place to observe the room just by peeking out my head a bit. I could look around and barely be noticed. The room was barren except one young maid cafe girl who was now being chatted up by the blonde boy with the X-Factor t-shirt. The girl looked flustered and nervous but not uncomfortable; these boys weren't amateurs. I looked back at the action around the corner across from me at my wife and the boys. I felt that sudden rush of unease in my stomach as I saw her on her knees on the floor, her face blocked by the Korean boy's ass. He was gripping her head and moving his hips back and forth comfortably but with some force. He was face-fucking her. I smiled... this guy had guts. The black boy had one of her hands on his cock, which was out of his pants now; it was an uncut cock, and I could make out against his dark-skinned dick the smegma that was rubbing all over my wife's hands.She was wearing jewelry, earrings, a necklace that I had gotten her in Italy, and her wedding ring that was now being scrubbed with this black boy's cock. It was always a turn-on to see her being used in that way, let alone from boys who were uncontrollably horny. I could see her chest heaving greatly as she was trying to breathe with the boy's cock in her mouth, which must have meant his cock was quite big and long since she is a very proficient cock sucker. Her necklace swayed back and forth as the Korean boy, now taking off his jacket, began fucking her more thoroughly and forcefully, pounding her face. I could hear her squeal a bit as the boy really shoved his cock in her throat over and over, taking his time, but so forcefully I'm sure even the cafe maid and the blonde boy could hear her squeals and the boy's balls smacking against my wife's chin now. The tallest boy, the boy with freckles, had taken out his pale cock, which was very thick to my surprise, and was holding my wife's hair in a tight grip and rubbing his cock against her face and hair and sliding it up and down her face under her chin around her neck. He wasn't entirely hard but he was big enough that it was enjoyable for him to just degrade my wife so nonchalantly. I could imagine how she must feel, smelling all those boys' cocks, feeling their cock and pre-cum on her face and hands, and being so startled with the young Korean boy's forceful pushes into her throat. She was, of course, enjoying it, but I could tell she was still impressed and startled with how forward and powerful the Korean boy was being. One of the Spanish boys was on the floor, trying to get his hand into her pants to no avail. The other Spanish boy and the others talked with one another and the Korean boy, and they stopped their actions on her for a moment, discussing something, like they were agreeing on what to do next with my wife. They all got up and pulled my wife up from her knees by her hair aggressively, and she squealed in pain for a quick moment. Wow, these boys were rough, and I loved watching it. It looked like they were going to go somewhere else with her into the large area further into the floor away from the escalator and stairs that we entered through when I felt a hand on my shoulder. "Sir, you can't be up here. This area is closed." A boy in a Comic Con/Anime Festival staff t-shirt was standing behind me. He was taller than me, muscular, and had a serious look on his face. He was black, with a shaved head, and held his chin high with confidence. He was obviously one of those people who worked at the convention and in return had hours they could explore the floor. Behind him, just off to his side, was the blonde boy with the X-Factor shirt, smiling. "Oh, my mistake, I was just going to use the restroom, then my wife and I will leave-" but then the blonde boy interrupted me, "You can't be here. You have to leave. Now." I realized the boys were being very serious, and I didn't want to start any trouble, so I nodded my head in agreement, and they walked behind me to the escalator to make sure I left. As I reached the stairs, I heard my wife scream loudly in startled ecstasy. "Ooh! Ah! Uhf! NnngUH! Uhn!" Then I could hear only quieter sounds of panting and moaning. It took me by surprise, and I looked back, but the two boys who were walking me out were blocking my view of the larger area ahead at the other end of the floor. All I could make out between them was a boy on top of what I assumed was my wife on the table, but the other boys were all around her, so I could not really see what was going on. I heard some laughter and talk, but nothing I could make out completely other than "bitch" and "hold her..." The two boys walking me out had a little grin on their faces and walked forward towards me, forcing me down the escalator. I stepped on the moving steps and began going down to the lower floor. Once I was on the escalator, the boys closed the glass doors, and the staff boy locked the door with a key. I was locked out from my wife and a bunch of boys who were practically raping her, but this would give me time to enjoy the convention and find prospective younger boys and even older men for new contacts. I went outside and around the corner of the building where all the parents who smoked would congregate and discuss their kids together. I leaned against the wall next to a woman who looked to be about 27. She was Hispanic by the looks of her hoop earrings and her jacket and leggings, and the way she showed off her bust and hips. I'm not the type of person to rely on stereotypes of people, but you know the type of woman who wears herself out in that sort of way; in the way that she likes the attention of others but is strong enough to fight off any guys who might try to take advantage of her. She had a wedding ring on, and she lit a second cigarette, her first inhale of the fag lit up her lips and eyes. You could hear that first part from her lips as she quickly pulled the cig from her lips and licked her lips briefly. She moved her hips from side to side to get comfortable. Though her breasts weren't as large as my wife's, I still found them quite lovely. It was a bit chilly outside now that the sun had gone down, and it was the time of day where there was still some light around from the sky, it wasn't 'dark' just yet, but the sun was nowhere in sight, and the stars weren't completely visible yet. A blueish hue ran over everything in sight, and I kept my eyes off the woman to my side as she took out her phone and expediently texted someone of interest. She looked bored, maybe a bit frustrated. Perhaps she wasn't getting attention from someone she wanted attention from. I had already lit my second cigarette when she went into her pocket to get a third, sucking them down like there was no tomorrow, and she pulled out an empty carton and powerlessly flung it to the ground. I offered her my already lit cigarette, and she smiled coyly, in that way a girl will dangerously smile, pulling her chest away from you and dropping her chin to her chest, looking at you in a temptuous fashion. She moved her lips closer to me, and I put the cig in her mouth. She was pleased and smiled at me, not taking her eyes off mine. I smiled back, and a cool breeze followed my smile and took out everyone's lighters and matches just as everyone was about to light their next cig. The night had fallen around us, and the only light left was on that woman's lips, illuminating a seductive smile and eyes burning with caged desire waiting to be unlocked and shuffled with another's. I took the fag out of her mouth and moved my lips to hers, holding my hand cautiously on her waist just to invite her to move closer. Her lips met mine, and we passionately and aggressively, though slowly, began to make out against the cement wall. One of her legs was lifting up behind me and pulling me closer. I put one hand on her leg, sliding up to her ass and hip, my other hand caressed her soft neck and under her ear. I had dropped the cigarette that was now illuminating us against the wall. I heard footsteps as a few men walked closer without any words. I looked into her eyes and saw the silhouette of men ready to join me. Her eyes were soft and inviting, and she would do anything right now and take it all. I parted my lips from hers, but she moved closer to me to try and hold the kissing just a little more. I looked at her and saw the shadows of the men on the wall I was holding her against. I heard a zipper either open or close, and then a few more. Then someone stepped on the lit cigarette, and the lights went out. The night air gave her smooth body goosebumps, and the remnants of cigarettes, that dry wavering scent of tobacco around, intoxicated the air. It was night now, dark... I wondered what my wife was doing.	null	Part 1	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/72/phoenixdebris1.txt
62,915	bLACKFLAg	Adventures of Perry the Pig - 3	Young Perry was trying to do his homework. But, as usual, his thoughts kept drifting off. He was remembering the hard fuck Aaron had given him that morning before school. Aaron had established a regular routine of morning sex with him. Perry had to get up early, before his parents were awake, even. He had to slip into Aaron's room and undress completely. Aaron wanted to be wakened to the feel of his slave licking his nuts, said it gave him sexy dreams. Perry would crawl under the covers and get his head between his brother's legs and gently lick at his sweaty scrotum until the older boy awoke. Sometimes Aaron would be sleeping on his stomach. In that case, Perry had been instructed to lick his ass. Either way, when Aaron awoke, the boy would grab his head and bring it up to his usual piss-hard-on. Perry would have to open quickly and get it in his mouth before Aaron started pissing. As he gulped down Aaron's rancid morning brew, Aaron would be shoving on the back of his head, making him take more and more of the hard shaft. Almost immediately, Aaron would be shooting his morning piss right down his brother's gullet. Perry would struggle not to gag or choke, but his own little prick would come up hard as Aaron used him like a urinal. After Aaron had finished his piss, he would either lay back and let Perry blow him or would turn the kid over and fuck him. This morning it had been a fuck, a rough one. Perry could still feel the soreness in his ass from it. Aaron had been extra horny this morning and had fucked him as hard as he could, grunting obscenities in his ear until he shot his load deep. Perry had loved the brutal treatment and humped his ass every time Aaron pushed his cock into him. He could also feel where Aaron had gripped his hips and squeezed hard as he had pummeled his boy-twat like a pile driver. Naturally, Perry had not been allowed to have an orgasm of his own. He had felt so frustrated that he had actually started sobbing, until Aaron had slapped him and shushed him. It was then that Aaron told him that his buddies would begin to use him at school as well as when they came over. "And you will do what they want, no matter what, pig." Aaron said. "If any of them says to you they gotta use the 'head,' that will be the code word for you, queer. You will stop whatever you are doing and follow them. You will do what you are told, no matter what. Any trouble and you'll find yourself without any dick for a month, got it?" "Y-yes Sir," Perry had replied. After their morning sex, Aaron and Perry showered together. Perry had to soap every inch of Aaron's hot young body and let him rinse off before he was allowed to get under the spray himself. He had to hurry and wash his own body under Aaron's scrutiny. This morning Aaron had ordered him to squat over the drain and shit out the remains of his load. Perry had felt like a shameful slut doing that, a naked faggot whore. His cock ached for release as he felt Aaron's hot cum spurt and then dribble from his aching hole. Aaron made the kid dry him with a big towel afterward. Perry would still be dripping and shivering as he ran the towel lovingly and carefully over his older brother's body. After he was done, he was allowed to use the same towel, now damp, to dry his own flesh. As Aaron was brushing his teeth and combing his hair, Perry knelt behind him and rimmed the boy's slightly hairy asshole. This was his "reward" for taking care of his brother's morning needs. As the older boy casually brushed and combed his hair, Perry was on his knees sucking and running his tongue up Aaron's ass. Only after Aaron had gotten dressed was Perry allowed to begin grooming and dressing himself. As the boy picked up his toothbrush, Aaron was already out the door and down the hall, greeting his parents as if nothing unusual had taken place, telling them Perry would be down soon. "You know what a sleepyhead he is," Aaron always said. His mother always sighed in the same way; a short, annoyed expelling of breath. Usually, his father would say something in a casual, joking way, but lately, when Aaron said this, his father would be silent, and then clear his throat. He also noticed that at the breakfast table, his father would be watching him intently. Lately, his father seemed to always be staring at him. Perry couldn't account for it. His father seemed to be looking at him the same secret way that Aaron's friends looked at him. But, Perry never thought that his own father would be having the same dirty thoughts as the other boys had when they looked at him. Perry was worried. He wondered if his father was mad at him or something. But the old man never said anything about it. Perry realized he had been staring at the page in front of him for five minutes without comprehending a word. He sighed and squirmed a little in his chair. He felt warm and nervous. His little cock was half-hard in his pants. He decided to move to his bed. He picked up his book and moved over to it and flopped down on his stomach, spreading the book in front of him. He propped his chin in his hands and settled back into reading. Dimly, he heard his mother leaving in her car, going off to visit one of her endless gossipy friends. Perry didn't think any more about it. His prick was getting harder, and he absently ground his hips into his mattress. He was feeling even hornier as his thoughts drifted to his upcoming tryst with Max. He shivered a little when he thought of the man's hirsute body, his lovely, jutting cock, and what the man would do to him with it. He was just about to give up on his boring homework and jerk off when he heard his father opening the door to his room. Shit! His Dad was walking in on him, and he had a roaring hard-on! He blushed a little and froze in position. Thank god he was lying on his stomach. Jack walked into the room and, oddly, shut the door. Perry looked over his shoulder at him, smiling tentatively. "Hey, Dad," he said. Jack was smiling, but his eyes were nervous. He glanced down at his son, his eyes stopping at the boy's shorts-clad buns. Except for those little shorts, the boy was nude. Jack let his gaze wander down the child's lean back and then down the coltish legs. Not a hair to be seen on him, except for a light dusting of peach fuzz on the nape of his thin neck. And the kid's ass? Wow! Those two soft cheeks were so round and sweet looking. They looked so small. Perry's slim legs stretched out behind him, so sweet and silky, not a hair on them. Jack's cock lurched a little in his pants. His eyes fastened on the child's rounded butt. Those buns might be small, but he had seen Aaron's fat cock going up between them and had heard the little boy beg for more. "Hey, how's my good boy?" Jack replied. His voice sounded hoarse, and his throat felt dry. He licked his lips and shifted his gaze to Perry's cute face. Perry's lips looked red and swollen. Jack's cock gave another lurch and began to stretch down his leg. He knew why Perry's lips looked like that. The boy had been sucking cock. It was true, too. Perry had been summoned into the boy's restroom at school half a dozen times by Aaron's horny friends. He had spent a lot of time in that stinky restroom, giving one or other of the boys head. A couple of them had taken their piss in his mouth as well. Now he licked those lips and looked at his Dad. "Whatcha want, Dad?" He asked, looking back at his father with those big blue eyes, his cheeks slightly flushed. Perry saw the look of lust in his father's eyes, but his mind refused to believe it. His own dad, lusting after his little body? No way! Jack cleared his throat and sat on the corner of the bed. "I-I just wanted to have a little talk, son. I think it's time we spent some time together..." he said, groping about for a way to turn the topic to sex. "What's that you're working on?" He asked. "It's just some reading I have to do for sex-ed," Perry replied, his voice dropping in volume. He felt really uncomfortable with his father here, acting so strangely. What was worse, his hard-on wouldn't go down. His embarrassment made him feel hot, and the sensation was going straight to his cock. He shifted a little, and his dick gushed a drop of pre-cum into his underpants. "What are they teaching you kids these days?" Jack said, trying to sound casual. He reached out and stroked his son's calf, loving the feeling of his soft, silky skin. Perry trembled at his dad's touch. He looked back at his book and said, "Oh, you know... Eggs, and sperms and like that..."His voice trailed off as he felt his Dad's fingers traveling a little higher on his leg, touching him softly. The boy suddenly realized his father was indeed interested in his body. He couldn't believe it, but the man's hot touch brooked no denial. And Perry was actually warming up to the idea. He had always loved his Dad's body. The man was tall and trim, and had long silky hairs on his chest. When Perry had been a little boy, he had loved it when his Dad would let him climb up on him in bed and play his fingers into that nice hair. He had gotten a giggly thrill from rubbing his hand on his father's scratchy beard. He remembered that once he had just finished his bath and his Daddy had hoisted him up on his furry tummy. Perry remembered the way the man's hairs had tickled his tiny balls. It made him giggle and his baby-peter had gotten longer and stiff. His Daddy had smiled at him warmly, love in his eyes, and Perry got a glow of happiness and a feeling of security and contentment. His dad had laughed at his little stiffy and tweaked it playfully. Then his Dad hugged him close and kissed his head, calling him his "good boy". Perry had never thought about having sex with his Daddy; that incident had been when Perry was just a toddler, not even in Kindergarten yet. His Dad was so far above him, like a wonderful god. Perry's thoughts flew back to Max telling him to "worship his cock". Suddenly Perry knew he wanted to do that for his father. He wanted to worship every inch of his dad's hot body. He let his father fondle his leg as he began to talk. "You know... how the sperm goes inside a woman and finds the egg and a baby is made. This is all about how the man's...p-p-penis... gets h-h-hard and... then um, he puts it in the woman's vagina and, you know, shoots it inside her..." Perry felt his father's hand move slowly up the back of his knee and squeezing gently at the back of his thigh. He felt like he was babbling. He turned his head and looked at his dad again, but the man's eyes were firmly fixed on where his hand was roaming. "I guess you know all about that though," he said softly. Jack cleared his throat and looked into his son's eyes. "Yes, of course. That's how you and Aaron were made," he replied. "But, you know, people don't always do that to make babies. People have sex just for fun, too." "Uh-huh," was all that Perry could think of. "And, it doesn't always have to be just a man and a woman," Jack went on. He moved over to his son's other leg and began to rub along its short length softly. "I know," Perry said, even more softly. "What do you know?" Jack asked, he gazed into his son's glassy eyes. It was clear the boy was getting turned on. Jack's own cock lengthened and hardened until it was pounding. Perry blushed and licked his lips again. "Um, gosh, I know lots about sex. S-s-sometimes even... guys fool around with each other..." "Have you ever done that?" Jack asked, staring right in Perry's face. "Gosh, no, Dad..." Perry said, gulping. "Don't lie, son. Haven't you ever, for example, had sex with your brother, or one of your friends?" It was then that Perry realized with a shock that his father knew all about it. He blushed wildly and looked away, feeling completely embarrassed and turned-on. "Well, maybe... a little..." he stammered. "I think you have, Perry. I think you know a lot about it." The man pushed his hand under the boy's groin. He thrilled to find the little stiffy he found there. He closed his fingers around it and rubbed into it. Perry responded with a low groan. Impulsively he pushed the book to the floor and buried his head in his pillow. "Ohhh, Dad..." He gasped. "You know what I think? I think you have had sex not only with Aaron, but one of his friends, too. I've seen you do it. I saw you sucking their dicks, I saw you sitting on Aaron's dick and humping on it. It sure looked like you were having a good time..." Jack slid his hand from under Perry's steamy crotch. He put his hands to the waistband of the boy's shorts and tugged. He slid them down a bit, revealing more of Perry's white skin. A thrill of lust went through him as his son slightly lifted his hips and let him tug them down his creamy thighs. "Now, I just want to see for myself if your brother caused you any damage when he fucked you. I'm going to need you to co-operate with me and do everything I say." Jack told his son as he slipped the shorts over Perry's luscious buns. He licked his lips as they were revealed to him in all their pubescent glory. "Y-yes, Sir," Perry replied, trembling all over, his high voice muffled by the pillow. Jack slipped the flimsy shorts down the kid's bare legs, right off his pink feet and threw them aside. Perry's butt was even prettier than he imagined. The crappy little video he had watched hardly did it justice. Two pink globes like little bubbles arched out from his downy spine, pale and peachy, sloping inward to form a rosy part. The crack looked a little red like it had been rubbed down there. Jack knew with what. "Looks a little raw honey. Get up on your hands and knees so I can have a better look." Perry hesitated. He was embarrassed about showing his hard-on to his Dad. When he didn't do as ordered, his father swatted his ass. "I said get up and show me that ass, boy!" He growled, impatiently. Perry yelped at the sting. "Yes, Sir! Only..." "What is it, Son?" "M-m-my p-penis is hard, Dad!" Jack laughed. "So? I'm not interested in your little pee-pee, boy, I want to see that ass!" Perry couldn't help but moan with lust when his father said this. It made him feel like a little kid again, the way his dad had laughed at him and called his cock a "pee-pee". He felt totally humiliated by it and he flushed hotly. His whole body began to glow with a sheen of sweat. He lifted up and got into position, his ass up for his father. He spread his legs and let his hairless nuts dangle between his thighs. His slim cock jutted out stiffly from his hairless groin like a small spike of boy-flesh. He hoped his daddy would put him down some more, really make him feel like a little kid again. Jack noticed how Perry responded to his verbal abuse. His cock gushed more pre-cum into his pants as he watched the kid scramble into position for him and wag that cute boy-butt. He brought his hands down to them and slid his thumbs into the crack. Shit, the tender things were like two pillows, soft and resilient, silky and smooth, warm and a little damp from the boy's sexy sweat. Jack could feel the heat rising from the child and smell the musky boy odor cooking in the sweet slit. He pulled the cheeks apart and gazed in at the child's asshole. His cock jerked in his pants when he saw that. The kid's inner ass was red with recent friction. His little pucker glowed like a hot penny. It was moist looking and a little puffy from the abuse it had been getting, but it still looked tight, a hot little dimple at the center of his ass. Goose pimples rose on his buns as the boy experienced the thrill of having his naked asshole exposed to his father's view. "You been lettin' those boys fuck you, Perry?" His father asked as he rubbed his fingers into his parted ass-valley. "Y-yes, Sir," Perry said, his voice quivering. "Sure, looks like you have. You suck Aaron's cock, too?" "Yes," the boy replied, his voice just above a whisper. "The other boy, too, right? You suck his cock as well?" "Yes, Sir." "You like it, boy? You like it when they put their dicks to you?" "Y-yes, Sir." Perry blushed even more deeply than before. Wicked prickly heat flashed through him. It was so humiliating to admit this to his dad. Even more humiliating to say it while he was on his knees, his ass spread, his cock throbbing. Perry felt so low and small and cheap. "Tell me all about it." "Perry shivered. "I-I suck their cocks, Sir and they f-fuck me." He admitted. "How often have you done that with them? More than once?" "Yes, Sir, lots of times. Aaron makes me suck him every day, or else he fucks me. And his friends, too. Any time they want to I let them. I don't even know how many times now. I..." Perry trailed off. His father was now touching his hole, pushing his rough finger around the steamy muscle and pushing into it. "And, you like it, don't you? You like them doing that stuff to you?" "Yes, Sir. I can't seem to say no. Don't be mad at Aaron, Daddy. I asked him for it. I begged for it!" "So, I guess you are nothing but a little sissy faggot. You let all those boys fuck you, huh, like some queer slut. That what you are, Perry? A faggot? A slut for them?" Perry's cock jerked. "Yes, Sir, I guess I am. I-I can't help it! Please don't be mad, Sir. I can't seem to control it. Every time one of them offers me their cocks, it's like I get this itch up my ass and my mouth starts watering.... And, I just can't help it, Sir. I know I'm nothing but a little fag..." Perry was shaking with emotion as his father probed his sore little butthole. Jack's head was spinning. He knew the kid was a little queer, but it sounded like the kid was cock-crazy as well. He noticed how turned on the kid was getting. His juicy balls were tightening and pulling up and his little dick was squeezing out little drops of clear lube. It was clear the kid was enjoying the hell out of telling his father these things and admitting what a little slut he was, degrading himself like this. "What else do you do for them, slut? Tell me everything. I want to hear you tell me all about what a little fag you are and what you like to do for them. Perry trembled. He knew his dad had hit on what turned him on. "I suck them off, even at school. I lick their balls and then let them fuck my mouth. I even swallow their cum, Sir. I know it's wrong, but I like it. I beg them to fuck me."I have to tell them how much I want them to do it. I have to call my ass a pussy and a cunt and beg them to put their big dicks up my cunt. Sometimes they just lay back and I have to get on it and do all the work and fuck myself on them. They always laugh at me and put me down, but I don't even care! "And? What else, faggot?" Perry groaned. His dad was shoving a finger into him, pushing it up his quivering boy-pussy. "I... Oh god, it's so dirty, Daddy. I can't tell you..." "Yes, you can. Tell me everything, boy. If you don't, I'll give your little tail a belting it won't forget. I want to know everything, now, tell me!" He jabbed his finger in hard, causing the boy to gasp and pant. "Oh, Sir! Oh, I have to lick and kiss their asses! Not just their buttcheeks, but their assholes! I lick and suck on their assholes! Sometimes they aren't very clean, but I still do it. I-I have to beg for that, too and I do because I want to so bad! And, oh, God, Sir... when they have to piss, they just piss on me. And I love it! They even piss in my mouth and make me drink it!" Jack shoved his rough finger up to his hand in the kid. Perry's pussy was slick inside, like the boy had lubed himself. In fact, that's just what he had done. Aaron had ordered him to keep his boy-cunt lubed at all times for his use. Jack sneered as he wriggled his finger around up the boy. He brought his other hand back and slapped Perry's pale ass. Perry gasped at the sting of the man's hand. At the same time, he was shamelessly pushing his ass back at his father, zings of horny pleasure zapping through his guts. "So, you act as their toilet and their asswipe as well? You really are a slutty pig, aren't you, faggot?" he slapped at Perry's butt, reddening it up. "Y-yes, Sir. I can't seem to help myself." The boy sobbed as he took the slaps to his bubble-butt. His mind was a whirl of emotions. He was so ashamed to have to admit what a dirty queer he was to his own father, but at the same time, he was incredibly turned on. His tits stood out hard from his slender chest and his ribcage heaved with heavy breaths. His little prick was straining up hard against his bare pubes, smearing them with his syrup. "They were spitting on you too, weren't they? And calling you names. Names most boys would fight over if they were called those things. And you just took it. Did you enjoy that, too? Did you!?" Jack dug his finger around, scraping it over the boy's aching prostate. Perry whined, his high voice echoing off the walls. "Yes, yes!!" He cried out. Tears rolled down his face but his cock jerked up and down as he felt his father mashing into his love-nut. Jack pulled his finger out. He stood and brought it to Perry's lips. The man's finger was slick with lube and the child's own ass-juices. There were a few brown streaks on it and some shit under the nail. He pushed the tip through Perry's rubbery lips. "Clean it, slut. Suck on it and clean it up. Show me what a piggy fag you are." Perry went right to work on the big digit. He pursed his lips around it and sucked, swirling his tongue over it, tasting his own ass on his father's finger. He felt his humiliation triple as he realized that it was his fuck-finger, the middle one his dad was making him suck on. The man bent his other fingers into the "bird" as Perry licked and sucked it off. God! His dad was giving him the bird and fucking his face with it at the same time! His eyes fastened on the huge bulge in the man's pants. He could smell his Dad's crotch, so masculine and sweaty, not far from his face. Even though he was feeling really put down and cheap, he hungered for his father's cock. His mouth gushed and spit began to leak from the corners of his lips. His father was sneering down at him and shoving that fuck-finger in and out of his wet mouth. Jack withdrew the finger and wiped it in Perry's soft hair. He stepped back and unbuckled his pants. "Well, I guess there isn't any reason why I can't enjoy your mouth and ass, is there?" Perry just knelt on the bed, watching in awe as his father dropped his pants and his big adult penis flopped out and bounced up at him. The boy licked his lips unconsciously. Jack laughed. He kicked the pants free of his legs and whipped off his shirt. He stood before the boy naked, his strong body towering over the bare-assed kid. Perry whimpered like an eager puppy, gazing with lust at his father's hairy, muscled body. To the cock-loving kid, his father was like some horny god, his huge daddy-dick throbbing up from his furry groin, making his little mouth tingle. The man's hot body mesmerized him, and he stretched out his thin neck, a tiny line of drool running down his round chin. Jack laughed again and then stepped up to the boy. He grabbed the kid's hair and rubbed horny cock over the kid's face. "I asked you a question, son, and I expect an answer!" He pulled the boy's head back until he was staring right up at him. Perry's eyes were deep pools of submission. He knew he would do anything his masterful Daddy wanted and gladly. "Yes, Sir!" He managed to squeak. "You want my cock?" "Yes, Daddy, I do. Use me like Aaron does, Daddy, please! I-I need it, please! Your cock is so big, so hard and hairy! I'll do what you want, just let me please it for you..." "Goddamn, you are nothing but a little fairy faggot, aren't you? A cocksucker." "Yes, Sir! Please, let me suck it Daddy! I can't stand to just look at it and not have it in my mouth! Please?" Jack fisted his prick in the kid's face. He slapped the wet tip down on Perry's flaring nose. The boy just took it, his eyes squinting a bit, but his mouth open, a wet hole for his daddy to fuck. The man got a sudden desire to degrade the kid. He knew the boy would love it, too. He stepped back and let go of the kid's head. He moved over to the old easy chair across the room and sat down. He spread his hairy legs and grabbed his cock. He waved it at the kid. "Get off that bed faggot and crawl to me. You want to be treated like a queer? You'd better start actin' like one, then. Get down and crawl for my big cock and show me what a slut you are. A queer belongs on his knees naked, between a man's legs, so get to it... NOW!" Perry climbed down from the bed and fell to all fours. He crawled towards the big man, just as Aaron liked him to do, swaying his bubble-butt, making his lips form a "o" and licking all around them like some cheap whore. Jack laughed at him. "Sure looks like Aaron's trained you good. Come on, baby, come and get your big treat, honey." Jack pushed his cock down so that the leaking head was pointing right at the crawling kid. "I want you to show me everything you do for those boys. I want to see if you know how to please a man like a good little faggot. You know how to please a man's cock, slut-boy?" "Yes, Sir!" "Get over here now, and show me, girl." Perry crawled between his father's spread legs and got his face up to the man's dick. Immediately he began to lick up the underside, his tongue washing the bulging cum-tube. He licked up to the sensitive underside, tasting the dribbling lube and sighing with utter piggish pleasure. He rose up a bit and kissed the tip. Jack's cock jumped at the feeling and a fat drop of goo pulsed onto his reddish lips. Perry's little tongue swiped at the sticky piss-slit and gathered more of the tasty stuff into his mouth. His Daddy's cock tasted so good! The smell of it drove him wild! He leaned in, lapping and kissing passionately at the broad, cheesy head, hardly noticing that he was whimpering and moaning for it like some horny young dog. God, how he wanted it! He really got into worshipping his Daddy's thick, hard fuck meat. He licked down one side and up the other. He dragged his tongue back down the pounding underside and lapped over his big hairy nuts. Jack's sack hung low, his hot sweaty nuts resting on the cushion like two hen's eggs in a moist hairy pouch. Perry's head swam with drugged horniness. He loved the taste of his father's funky sweaty testicles. He thrilled to the thought that they held the seed that had bred him. He swirled his tongue under one of them and lifted it to his lips. He sucked it in gently and slurped on it like it was a big piece of candy. That one big nut filled his mouth. The horny boy loved it up. Jack threw back his head and cupped Perry's warm head with one hand. "Ahh, that's right, baby, suck Daddy's nuts," he moaned, "Please those fuckers with your hot little mouth, honey." Perry did as his daddy wanted. He sucked the big gland, lashing his tongue-tip over it and letting it tangle in the man's wiry ball hairs. He eased it out and danced his taster under the big sac and took in the other one. He sucked it in and played with it in his mouth, slurping and suckling on it to his heart's content. Jack couldn't take the teasing anymore. He wanted to feel his faggot son's mouth on his cock. He clutched the boy's hair and pulled his face up. He looked down and saw Perry's face, contorted with slavish need. He grabbed his cock in his fist and pushed the thick knob to the boy's lips. "Open up cock-suck," He ordered, his voice husky and urgent. Perry dropped his jaw at his father's order, opening his lips as wide as he could. His tongue wormed around in his juicy mouth, just begging for a taste of man-cock. Jack stuck the broad meaty flange between the boy's lips and saw them immediately close around it. The boy's cheeks collapsed and he felt the little wet mouth begin to suck. Perry's tender lips sank into the space behind the ridge of his dick-head as the child suctioned on it. Oh shit, the kid was good! Jack felt like getting rough with the boy. From what he had seen in the tape, the kid would not only be able to take it, he would probably get off on it.Jack had met faggots before who loved it when a man took charge and used them hard. He remembered one queer in a park restroom he'd stopped in. The fag had been stripped and made to kneel. The men had grabbed his head and fucked his mouth like it was a whore's pussy, trading off and forcing him from one cock to the next. The little pansy had loved it and had taken the roughest treatment. Jack had even joined in, slapping the kid around before grabbing his ears and plowing his throat. After all four of them had shot their loads in him, they left the kid groveling naked on that dirty restroom floor. The kid was beating off as they walked out, writhing on his back, jerking his little dick, still begging for more cock. Jack knew that Perry was just like that; that he was a pussy-boy like that restroom-haunting fag. "You wanna be a fuckhole slave, Perry? Well, you'd better be able to take it. Eat cock, sissy-boy, eat cock!" Jack ordered. He sank his cock into the boy's face, pushing on the back of his head, forcing the kid to take his pounding shaft in. Perry's prick slapped against his tummy as he felt his Daddy get rough with him. He thrilled to the feeling of his big cock sliding to the back of his mouth, filling it up. He sucked in a breath just as the blunt head pressed into the opening of his throat and sank into his gullet. He let his thin arms go slack at his sides, letting his father control him. Jack felt the kid's throat squeeze his cock-shaft as he sank in deep. He didn't stop pushing on the boy's head until he had sunk every inch into him and his big balls were resting against his little chin. He couldn't believe how wet and tight it felt. His cock throbbed in Perry's gulping throat. He let his whole hard dick soak in the warmth, not even caring if the boy passed out on his fat cock. Then he pulled the kid up until his whole gleaming shaft came out, until just the pounding head was still inside. He began forcing the boys' head up and down, masturbating himself with his son's hot mouth. He began to pick up speed, making the boy's fair hair flounce about wildly. Perry just went with it, not pulling away, wanting this, wanting his hot dad to use his slutty mouth. With a shaking hand he reached up and lovingly cupped the man's nuts in his small hand. He played with his daddy's balls, rubbing and squeezing them in his little fingers. Drool leaked out of his mouth and ran down his chin and neck. Jack rammed the kid down and held the boy there, letting his pounding meat soak in the child once again. He ground the boy's face into his bush hard, scouring Perry's red cheeks with the wiry stuff. He couldn't believe how fun this was, working the hot mouth on his cock, just as he liked. He held Perry's head in both hands and flexed his cock in his tight, gulping throat. Perry choked on it, coughing up thick drool. The slimy stuff leaked from his lips and into Jack's crotch hair. Made the man feel powerful to be choking the fag-boy with his cock like that. Perry was grabbing his loins and trying feebly to pull away, but Jack held him tight. "Take it, you cunt-mouthed faggot!" He growled, "Gotta punish you for being a nasty little queer!" He humped up with his thick hips, cramming every inch into the boy's convulsing throat. Finally, he pulled the boy's head up and let his cock slide completely out. Perry coughed and gagged. Hot strings of saliva strung from his lips, connecting obscenely with his father's juicy cock-knob. Jack grabbed his dick and slapped Perry's face with it repeatedly. He smeared the boy's flushed face with spit and cock-snot. "That what you need, queer? You like that cock fucking your face, cunt-lips?" He snarled as he continued to beat Perry's face with his thick fucker. Perry gulped. "Yes, Sir," he replied, his voice hoarse and husky. He licked out with his tongue trying to get his father's cock back in his mouth. The kid was wild for it! "Say it, cock-freak," Jack ordered, "tell me what you need." "Your cock, Daddy, I need your cock. Please, fuck my mouth-cunt some more!" "Fuck you, you dirty fag! I don't think I wanna fuck your filthy mouth anymore. Your mouth is just a toilet, isn't it? Isn't it?" Jack smacked Perry's face with his cock again. "Pleeeze?" Perry begged. "Please what, bitch?" "Please, can I have your cock?" Perry pleaded. The boy was feeling really small and humble now and the humiliation was making his cock ache. He wanted his dad to really take him down, to make him grovel. "What will you do for Daddy if he fucks your face for you?" "Anything! Anything, Daddy. I-I'll swallow your cum for you, all of it! I'll drink your piss! I'll lick your ass, anything!! I'll let you fuck my ass! Please let me have your cock, Sir!" "You'll LET me have your ass? Shit, you little homo... if I want to fuck it I'll fuck it. You'd better learn that fast, queer-boy. If I want your ass-cunt you spread for me, no questions asked, you got that, boy?" "Yes, Sir, of course, of course. I'm yours, Daddy, any time you say! I'll be a good little queer for you. Please let me make your cock feel good, Sir." Suddenly the door opened and Aaron was standing there. "What the fuck? What is going on, Dad?" Aaron stared open-mouthed at the sight of his father, and brother, the boy on his knees, the both of them stark naked. Clearly Perry had been sucking the man's cock and he was now pleading for more. "What the hell does it look like, boy? I'm fucking your little queer brother's mouth, just like you do. Why the hell should you get all the fun of using him and not your old man?" "What are you talking about?" Aaron cried, sounding angry. "Don't try and shit me, Aaron. I know all about it. The little fairy confessed everything." "You motherfucker!" Aaron shouted at Perry. "I'm gonna beat your queer ass, you asshole!" "Calm down, son. I was bound to find out sooner or later. Since it's no longer a secret, why don't you join me, son? We can both use the punk-ass bitch. Your mom won't be home for hours. Come on, son. You already pimp him out to your friends, don't you? Lets have some fun with this little cock-pig." Jack slid his cock over Perry's nose and cheeks and then stuffed the head into his open lips. "Suck, whore." He ordered. Aaron watched Perry go down on his dad's big dick. Why not? He thought. The sight of the boy taking his dad's cock was turning him on. Aaron always had admired his father's masculine looks, and hoped he would have a body like his someday. He felt his own cock growing in his pants. "All right, why the hell not?" He answered and pulled his shirt over his head. He tossed it on the floor and reached for his belt buckle. "Yeah, Aaron-boy, strip down and show this queer your cock. Let's show the bitch how to serve two big dicks at the same time." "Shit, Dad, he already knows how to do that! He's a fucking pussy at both ends and he loves to have both his holes filled. Don't you pussy-bitch?" "Yes, M-master," Perry replied as his father pulled his head off his cock again. "Master?" Jack laughed. "He's my slave bitch and he knows it. That's why I make him call me his master." Aaron answered as he bent to slide his pants off his muscular legs. "Well, bitch, you got two masters now," Jack laughed. "Hell, Dad, any guy who waves his cock in his face is his master, ain't that right slave-boy?" "Yes, Master," Perry admitted, his voice husky. He licked out at his dad's cock, catching a drop of hot lube that was running down the underside of the man's shiny glans. Aaron grabbed Perry's head by the hair and pulled him back. Perry reared up awkwardly and tried to turn around. He hissed with the pain to his scalp but did not resist his brother. He got to his hands and knees and crawled as Aaron pulled him around by the hair. "Let me show you how to put this bitch though his paces, Pop." Aaron said, grinning up at his father. Aaron stood naked except for his jockstrap. His teenage dick was already tenting the knitted pouch and the thick crown was pushing out the waistband. He pulled Perry's face up to the grungy pouch and ordered, "Get this off me, slave. No hands, just use your mouth." Perry grabbed the top of the wide band with his teeth. Aaron let go of his head and stood with his hands on his hips, legs spread slightly. Perry pulled at the jock, working it down until Aaron's cock popped out and then moved his head down pulling it down the older boy's legs. His father laughed and shook his head with amazement. Perry's pink boner throbbed with his humiliation. He slid the strap down to Aaron's feet, his naked ass was thrust up at his father and his face was down at his brother's toes. Aaron's feet smelled strong, sweaty and dirty. The boy longed to kiss and lick at them. Aaron lifted his big feet and stepped out of the jock. He bent over and grabbed Perry's hair again and pulled him up. The jock dangled from Perry's lips as he was turned around, like a disobedient dog. Aaron pulled his face up to show his father. Perry looked at his Dad, his eyes shiny, his face flushed, Aaron's dirty jockstrap hanging from his mouth. Jack laughed in his face, making the boy feel real small and ashamed. "Fuck, look at you, you pansy, chewin' on your brother's jock like that!" The man chortled. "You like the taste of that smelly jock, faggot?" Perry looked at his father submissively and nodded his head. Jack's cock swelled in his fist and another fat drop of shiny lube rolled out of the meaty slit at the tip. He was really getting into seeing his youngest kid acting the faggot slave. Aaron pulled the jock from Perry's mouth. He then pulled it over Perry's head and slid the pouch over the kids nose.He tied the straps so that the place where the straps joined the pouch, the same spot that nestled up against his asshole every day in gym, was hugging into the kid's flaring nostrils. Perry's blue eyes peeped from the pouch, and his mouth was left free. He took a deep hit off of the nasty jock, and his head began to whirl with the thrill it gave him to sniff his brother's ass-stink. Aaron straightened up, his cock rearing. He was proud to show his Dad how he had the little queer under his control. He walked behind the kneeling kid and kicked at his ass with a bare foot. "What are you, bitch! Tell Dad what you are," he ordered. "I-I'm a faggot, Sir!" the boy said. "A dicksucking homo, a fuckhole." "That's right you are. Tell me, cunt-lips, did you suck off all my buddies today? Did you treat them good, like the whore you are?" "Yes, Sir. I sucked them all, Sir, whenever they wanted me to, Master." Perry watched his father fisting his big prick as he admitted this. A sneer crept across the man's handsome features. "How many of them did you service with your pussy of a mouth, whore?" "Five, Sir. And some of them wanted me to suck them more than once, today, Master." "Did any of them use your mouth to piss in? Did you drink their piss like a good sissy-slave?" asked Aaron, grabbing his own hot prick and stroking it. "Yes, Sir. They all pissed in my toilet-mouth today, Master." "Yeah, and did you thank them for letting you drink their nasty pee?" "Yes, Master, I thanked them for pissing in me and fucking my mouth, too, just like you told me to." "You had better. If my friends are good enough to let you have their cocks and what comes out of them, you had better show them how much you appreciate it, right?" "Yes, Master." "You do appreciate it, don't you?" "Yes, Master, I love it." Perry admitted. His slim prick jerked in front of the two staring at him. Jack laughed when he saw that, making Perry feel very humble and stupid. "Tell us what you love, fag. Tell my Dad what you need." "I loved their fucking my pussy mouth. I loved having their big pricks shoot cum down my throat. I loved every drop of their tasty piss. I need to be a cum and piss dump fag for you studs, Sir." "Did you suck off anyone else? Like a teacher, or the janitor? Did you offer your mouth to them, slut?" Perry knew what Aaron was driving at. He was looking for an excuse to punish him. He wanted to really humiliate him in front of their Dad, to show his power over him. He lowered his eyes and answered softly, "No, Sir." "No? Didn't I tell you that you were good for one thing and one thing only?" "Yes, Sir." "And what is that? What are you good for, cunt?" "To be fucked, Sir." "Think you're too good to suck the janitor's dick, whore-boy?" "No, Sir, I'm not too good to suck him." Aaron reached over and picked up his pants. He pulled the belt from the loops and threw them back on the floor. He doubled it and wrapped the buckle end in his fist. Then he thrust it on Perry's face. "So, you failed to service a whole lot of dick today. You have been a bad little whore, haven't you? What do you think I should do with this?" he demanded, pushing the tip against Perry's lips. "Whatever you want, Sir!" Perry gulped, his pink lips brushing the leather held to his face. "Beat my ass, Sir. I know I deserve it, Master. I've been a bad little whore! Please, beat my ass for me, Sir!" "Yeah, smack the bitch, Son. I want to see that. He's right. A fairy fag like him needs a beltin'," Jack said, jacking his meat. Aaron set his jaw in a stern frown. "Kiss it, queer. Kiss the belt that's going to be whippin' down on your whore butt. Kiss!" Perry shivered and pursed his lips. He gave the belt tip a trembling kiss and then licked out at it. His father laughed as he did this. Aaron walked back behind the boy and raised his arm. Perry heard the whoosh of the leather in the air, and his body nearly convulsed in warm waves of fear and excitement. The belt came down on his ass with a ringing crack. He felt the pain snap through his pink buns and felt the rising welt burn. He cried out, high and keen. Aaron snapped him again, and the boy howled in bone-shaking pain. His cock jumped and tapped his tummy as he took the blows. His naked balls tightened to his body, and the red tip of his wiener drooled a line of slime that dangled and swung in the air. Aaron rained blow after blow on the kid's upturned ass as the boy whined and sobbed. The little slave loved the way Aaron was using him. Loved the heat and pain of the beating and the humiliation of it. His father seemed to be enjoying the show, grinning and fisting his dick as he watched. Perry felt totally degraded to be naked on his hands and knees like this, a dirty jockstrap tied over his face and getting beat by his big brother. He felt he would shoot off just from the slapping pain being sent into his tail. He arched his back up at Aaron's swinging blows like a cat. Through his tears and sobs, he begged for more! Once Perry's ass was liberally criss-crossed with red welts, Aaron threw the belt aside. He put his foot on Perry's neck and pushed down so that the boy's head was to the carpet. "Pull your buttcheeks open and show dad your pussy, whore!" he demanded. Perry did as he was told, getting his slim fingers into his raw crack and pulling his whipped ass cheeks wide. "Fuck him, Dad! Fuck the little queer! That's what you wanted to do, isn't it?" Aaron cried, his eyes crazed and feral. Jack looked at the kid spreading his welted buns for him and saw the raw naked ring of Perry's ass gape open. He jumped up and strode over to the boy and kicked his legs wider. "Goddamn right I want to fuck this!" He fell to his knees behind the kid and slapped his big truncheon into the parted crease. He pushed the fat knob right up to Perry's ass and let the lips of his dick kiss at Perry's slimy, wrinkled bud. "Get on it, slut-boy!" He growled and pushed the broad crown into the yielding ring. Aaron took his foot away from the kid's slender neck. Perry raised his head and pushed his ass back. With a whine, he began to impale himself on his Father's fat cock. Jack's cock was big. Perry felt the girth of the flaring head stretching his ass wide. Pain flashed through his hole, sharp and hot. He cried out in agony as he moved his body back to get his boy-cunt on it. "Oh, it hurts, it hurts!" he squealed. Jack swung his hand down and gave the boy's asscheeks a ringing slap. "Shut up, you little pansy and take it! Aaron, shove your cock in his mouth! Go ahead, son, and shut this bitch's trap for him!" Aaron dropped to his knees in front of the sweating, whining kid and grabbed his hair. He shoved his cock straight in Perry's gasping mouth and rammed his head down on his hard meat. "SUCK!" he shouted, "Suck it, you fucking cock-slut!" He rammed his meat into Perry's throat, choking the kid and making him gag furiously. Perry shook with pain and gagged on his brother's meat. He did his best to adjust his neck to the deep thrust of Aaron's hot cock. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he was brutally raped. He sobbed around the cock battering into his throat as he continued to push his ass back on his Dad's thick pole. "I'm being raped! Raped!" he thought, and the knowledge of it turned him on. He was being used as an object, a mere two-ended pussy for his two men to fuck and dump their hot cum into. The debasing idea made his cock jump and his balls stir around in his hairless egg-sack. His ass began to adjust to his father's cock as he got more of it in him. The mushroom head rubbed and mashed his little prostate, and suddenly the pain was replaced by wild pleasure. With a muffled groan, he humped on the fat meat filling him up until the last inch sank up his twitching shitter. He squeezed on the fat base, suddenly loving how reamed out his hole felt. He took a breath through his pug nose and then started to suck hard on Aaron's cock, massaging it with his throat muscles and running his tongue under the shaft. He began to move his ass, fucking his father's cock in and out of his sucking ass-cunt. He let Aaron push and pull on his head. His cries of pain became squeals and moans of bliss. He gave his body fully to the two, letting them use him as roughly and as hard as they pleased. Jack had to admit the kid had a talented pussy for his age. The boy's ass-ring squeezed his cock deliciously. His soft guts milked the length of his hard fuck-rod like a slimy fist. He grabbed the kid's skinny waist with his big, rough hands. He almost swooned when he felt his fingertips touching around the kid. He gripped into the boy's tummy and began to use the kid to masturbate with. He pushed and pulled on Perry, ramming his cock into to his swinging nuts time and again. The boy just took it as it came, allowing his hot dad to bounce his welted, smarting buns on his bushy crotch. Aaron grabbed at his burning ears and used them like a pair of handles to fuck the boy's mouth on his cock with. Each time he pushed Perry's tear-stained face down, he humped his hips and growled like a young animal. The fucked boy just relaxed his throat and did his best to breathe through his nose as Aaron's fat cock slid in and out of his gullet. Perry felt everything going soft and hazy. His cock was straining so hard and taut that his prick looked glossy. The pretty little knob at the end was purple and leaked a continuous gooey line of clear lube-juice. His father was stabbing his hard fucker deeply into him, giving his guts a deep ache. Aaron's thrusting cock half-suffocated him. Perry didn't care... didn't care if they killed him with their raping cocks, so long as they used him good. He only hoped he could cum off as he died for them.Jack was close. The boy's ass-chute was twitching and jerking around his whole shaft, the stretched sphincter clamping and releasing on his hairy dick. He bellowed like a lion and sank his cock up the child, humping frantically to get every last inch of his pounding fucker rammed in the hot, slick tunnel. "Oh SHIT! Cumming! Cumming up this hot slutty ASSS!!" He yelled. He felt his cock undulate and the cream spewing out. The hot stream of fuck-sauce just rocketed out of his dick and bathed the boy's fuck-tunnel and his rampant meat in the filling flow. He held deeply in the little boy and ground his teeth in ecstasy as he shot hot quarts of his slime into the boy's bowels. His hands kneaded the child's soft belly, just about squeezing the air out of the kid. Perry pushed back wildly and milked his Daddy's cock as it spunked up him. He felt a glow in the pit of his tummy as it filled up with warm Daddy-fuck. Jack heaved the last of his seed up the boy. He brought his hands down hard on the boy's red buns as he finished his cum. Perry squealed in pain around Aaron's fat cock. "Your turn, Son. Get over here and fuck this cunt like he needs." He ordered. "Yeah, I want to feel that sloppy cunt!" Aaron cried. He pulled Perry's head up, freeing his cock from the sucking orifice. Perry missed the cock and moved forward to get it back in his mouth, making the both of them laugh. "Fuck, what a cock-hound!" Jack guffawed. Perry shivered with wanton thrills at his father's jeering words. Jack pulled his softening cock from the boy's tightly clamped boy-pussy and stood, swaying a little. Aaron scrambled up and got behind the boy. He rammed his cock straight up his little brother's ass roughly, hunching his hips forward until he was buried totally in Perry's slippery pussy. He wrapped his arms around the boy's waist and looked up to wink at his dad. "Watch this, Pop," He said. Jason put his feet flat on the floor and pulled Perry's light body up, He straightened his back, Perry's sweaty rear fully staked on his meat. Perry felt himself lifted, felt his own back held tight to Aaron's strong torso. Aaron stood, holding the boy like a big doll and spread his legs out. He began to bounce Perry on his cock. Perry's toes dangled a few inches from the carpet. He spread out over Aaron's chest, his arms dangling behind him. His face was a mask of pure joy. Aaron hammered his thin pelvis up and out causing Perry's little cock to swing up and down in front of him like a tiny flagpole in the wind. With Aaron's strong arms holding him tight he was completely vulnerable and exposed. His tiny tit-points stood out hard from his gleaming chest as he took the jolting thrusts up his cummy butthole. Jack laughed loudly at the sight of the kid being flung up and down on Aaron's cock like that. He reached out and grabbed the punk's pink nipples and pinched them hard, twisting into them with his big strong fingers. Perry gasped, drool running from the corner of his mouth. His shitter clamped hard on Aaron's prickshaft. Aaron grunted. "Yeah, do that to him, Dad. His cunt really tightens up when you pinch his titties for him." Jack grinned evilly and continued to pull and pinch Perry's chest points. Perry moaned with pain but thrust his chest out for more abuse. "Oh, fuck me, squeeze my tits, use me, use me!" He yelped. Jack laughed. He slapped and pinched all down the kid's slender torso. Red patches appeared on the boy's from the abuse he was taking. "You like this, don't you faggot?" Jack demanded, "You like being a fucking sex-toy, a little fuck doll. Fuck you, you fucking little homo, fuck you!" The man grabbed Perry's jiggling nuts and gave them a hard squeeze. Perry screamed, high and loud his voice bouncing off the walls. He came! Perry couldn't help it. The abuse he was taking from his father's fist clenching his naked scrotum and Aaron's jolting up his guts, mashing his prostate sent a fire to his brain. His cock swelled up as hard as a pencil stub and his little load popped out, sprinkling the floor with watery spunk. Jack laughed in his face and squeezed even harder, crushing his little berries until they felt bruised and bloated. He squeezed the immature semen from his balls like he was using a turkey baster. "That's it, baby, cum off for us! Show us how much you love this, queer-boy! Cum you whore, cum!" Jack growled as he felt the kid's hot sprinkles of boy-juice hitting his legs. His own manly dick was up hard again from the fun he was having with his sons. He let go of the boy's pain-soaked balls and pinched the head of his little cock, forcing more fluid from the tiny pouting piss slit. Aaron wrapped one arm tightly around Perry's light body. He used his other hand to push the boy's flushed and wet face down to his father's erection. "Hey, bitch, you forgot to clean that up." he growled in Perry's ear before bending the kid down. Perry went slack-mouthed, a long string of spit drooling over his bottom lips. Aaron shoved him towards the big adult prick throbbing in front of him. Jack moved up to him and watched as Aaron pushed the kid's mouth to his dirty dickhead. He pushed his cock into the warm mouth and sighed with pleasure. "You heard your brother, fag, clean my dick up like a good slut. Don't want your pussy leavings on my big purty cock. Lick it up, cunt." Perry did as he was told, eagerly sucking off ass-juices and cum from his father's filthy cock. He tasted his own shit on it and lapped it up, swallowing with relish. "Fuck, a shitlicker, too?" The man chuckled. "Damn right, Pop. He loves to lick shit. The next phase in this slave's training is gonna be making him eat my shitlogs right outta my ass!" "Goddamn, that'll be hot to watch. I'd like to see you make this fag into your shitter, boy. Why don't you finish fucking him and we'll get right to it." "You got it, Dad. I got a big load up my ass for him." "Hear that, queer? Your big brother's gonna make you his shit-dump. Gonna make you into a real toilet, son." Perry groaned around his Dad's prick as he sucked it off. He was excited and scared at the same time. He didn't know if he could handle swallowing a big turd or not, and he wasn't sure if even he could take the humiliation of it. But he didn't have much choice. He was their slave and he had to do what they wanted. They were going to do to him what ever they pleased. Perry just grasped his father's hips and let his mouth sink down on his big dick as Aaron humped up his aching ass. He cleaned the cock in his mouth swallowing down the bitter and salty flavors of shit and cum. He lapped around the base of his father's cock swirling his tongue around it as he gulped at the huge knob invading his throat. Jack felt his bladder swell and ache. The kid's mouth was keeping his cock hard, but he knew he could piss through it. He pulled Perry's head up, his cock slurping free of the boy's moist, sucking lips. "Gotta piss, boy. Where do you think I ought to go? Huh? Tell me fag-boy. Where do you think I should dump all this hot piss?" He shook Perry's head in his fist. "In my toilet mouth Dad. Piss in my mouth, please? I want all your golden juice in my faggot belly, Daddy!" Perry whined, lunging at the big dripping dick so close to his lips. Jack pushed his hips up, sinking the broad head between his son's pretty lips. He felt Perry immediately begin to suck at it like a straw. The big man let his belly relax and felt his piss surge up the shaft. It leapt into Perry's mouth and flooded it with rich man-piss. Perry let it fill his cheeks until they bulged with it. He whipped his tongue over the pissing slit gurgling with queer-boy pleasure. He gulped it down, grunting like a little pig. He had to swallow fast to keep it from spilling out. But try as he might trickles of smelly pee ran from the corners of his mouth and down his neck. "Shit, Dad, that's usin' the little punk. Piss his belly full, Pop!" Aaron urged. He pushed his cock deep into Perry's ass and held his pelvis to the kid's sweating cheeks. He wanted to watch Perry take his Dad's piss. Jack shook Perry's head again. "Open, whore. I wanna see it shooting in your toilet hole." Perry did as he was told. He held his mouth open for his father's strong stream, gulping as best he could with his mouth open like that. Tiny drops of piss splashed off his teeth and sprinkled his cheeks and chin. His lips ran with yellow waste. He looked up at his father, so strong and manly above him and the corners of his mouth twisted into a sort of smile. His eyes were wide with slavish adoration. He let his tongue loll out of his mouth and then used the tip to caress the bottom of the pissing head. Jack laughed. "Yeah, you like that, don't you, you dirty queer? You love drinking my hot piss up don't you, pig-bitch?" "Uh-huh!" Perry grunted hoarsely between loud satisfied gulps. Jack lifted his cock and let the last of his dark urine flood Perry's eager face. He pissed right on the kid's eyeballs and Perry kept his eyes open for it all. Piss rained off his cute face and soaked the carpet. Jack emptied the last drops into his mouth, then ordered Perry to lick the head of his cock clean. After the kid was done cleaning his Daddy's cock, Jack lifted his foot and pushed Perry's head to the floor with it. He ground the kid's face into the piss stained carpet. "You made a mess, faggot, suck it outta there." Aaron laughed and began to fuck Perry again, jolting the boy's butt and causing him to ram his face into the wet fibers. He opened his mouth and sucked at the pile, getting fibers of it in his mouth and tasting grit and dirt as well as his father's cooling pee. "Fuck, that's hot! Gonna cum up this slutty asshole! Ugh! Here... faggot... take my fucking scummmm!Aaron froze, his cock buried to the hilt. He clutched hard at Perry's hips and dumped heavy globs of hot teen cock-snot up the boy's clenching cunt. Perry was in heaven. His father's big foot pushed on his head, the big toes wriggling on the back of his neck. He was sucking piss out of that carpet like a fucking dog. And Aaron's hot cock was lurching and spewing in his aching hole. Perry's own little dick throbbed, unattended. He felt his balls tightening and he prayed he wouldn't spurt off. It took every ounce of self-possession not to let go and spray the rug with his crystal load. He had already cum once without permission and knew he would have to endure one of Aaron's punishments. He didn't need to make things any harder on himself by losing control again. Aaron ripped his prick out of Perry's ass. He slapped Perry's smarting butt hard. "Turn around and clean me, asshole!" he demanded. Jack lifted his foot and Perry turned and crawled to his brother. He bent his head and took the softening cock in his filthy mouth. He sucked and licked it clean for his master, ecstatically slurping down his men's combined loads, fresh from his slutty cunt. While he was doing this Aaron's cock twitched and began to pour piss. Perry moaned and began gulping at it like a thirsty mutt. Aaron didn't say a word and neither did he slow his flow for a second the hot stream filled Perry's mouth over and over. Perry swallowed fast to keep from losing a drop. He knew if he did his face would be pressed back into the wet carpet. Aaron slid his pissing prick into Perry's throat and pissed straight into his stomach. Perry's fingers and toes worked in the pile as he felt his brother use him like a portable urinal. When Aaron had finished pissing he pulled out and turned. He bent over placing his hands on his knees. Perry didn't wait to be ordered. He crawled close and shoved his wet face between Aaron's muscular buttcheeks. He pushed his little tongue up the hair-ringed hole and began to suck at Aaron's hot asshole lips. Jack bent over and grabbed the back of Perry's head. He pushed roughly, shoving Perry's face hard into Aaron's steamy crease. His pug nose was mashed into Aaron's sweating butt-flesh cruelly. "Eat Ass, shit-face!" He ordered. Perry slithered his tongue deep into Aaron, licking around a fat turn buried up there. He relished the bitter grittiness he found there. He was totally turned on to the way he was being treated, his whole slim body tingling. He didn't know why he loved the taste of Aaron's shit so much. It was actually horrible and tasted as bad as it smelled. He should have been puking, but instead the filthy flavor and the way he was debasing himself made his cock pound and drool. He remembered that Aaron had said he was going to make him eat his turds and he began to really crave that. He wanted to have his brother take him down like that in front of his father. He wondered if, afterwards, Aaron would tell his friends that he was a shit-eater. If he did he'd probably be used for shitting in all the time. He thrilled to the horny, humiliating thought. He shivered at the idea of big, furry Jason sitting on his face and forcing a huge piece of crap down his faggot throat. He attacked his brother's shitty hole with more gusto, sucking and slobbering on it and wrapping his tongue around the fecal log just inside the burning hole. Aaron was groaning and pushing his ass hard into Perry's face. "Dig up there, Butt-slave! Get a good taste of your fucking dinner!" "Fuck, that looks like fun," Jack said, "here, let me try that." "Sure thing, Pop," Aaron said, straightening up and pulling his ass away from the kneeling, naked faggot. Perry's tongue popped out of his asshole. It was stained brown and his lips were smeared with streaks of shit as well. Jack grabbed a hank of his blonde hair and pulled his face up. He sneered wickedly. "You disgusting little pig!" He said, "Look at you. You got shit on your fucking tongue. Another guy's shit! You filthy, disgusting ass-licking little fag." He hocked up a wad of gooey spit in his mouth and spat it across the groveling kid's face. Perry whimpered as it splattered across his cheeks. Jack released the boy's head and Perry fell back, his welted ass resting on his heels. He didn't dare try to wipe way his father's snot. He just let it drip down his face. Then Aaron was stepping up. He also spat and the glob of snotty spit hit Perry's nose. "You lost a load, too. You are always doing that. I have told you and told you, you aren't supposed to cum unless I say you can and you still do it. What should I do about that, bitch?" "P-punish me, S-sir." "I always punish you and you still do it. When are you going to learn to do as you are told? I'm gonna have to make this a good one so you'll remember. You like it too much when I whip you or kick your faggot ass. But this time you are gonna really get it. Spread your legs, cunt." Aaron kicked at Perry's thigh. Perry spread his legs wider for him, trembling. "I'm sorry, Master. I didn't mean to do it... It just happened!" "Shut the fuck up! Don't talk to either of us unless you are spoken to, ever again!" Perry bowed his head. He knew he was fucking up big time with Aaron and he knew his master would be unrelenting and merciless. Aaron never gave him a break, ever. He felt tears come to his eyes as he tried to resign himself to what ever Aaron would do to him. "What do you think I should do to him, Dad? What should this bitch's punishment be?" "Make him eat your shit, Aaron. That'll teach him good." "Oh, he'll eat it all right. But, that's for later. He'll not only eat my fucking shit but he'll beg to do it. Right now I'm gonna do something that will hurt him good. Make him think twice before he lets his fag clit spurt off again, without permission. I'm gonna kick his nuts, what do ya think of that?" Jack's eyes glittered and he smiled at Aaron. "Yeah, that will hurt him, bad. Go ahead, Son, it's not like a queer like him needs his balls. He's never going to use them to breed with. Go ahead and punish those faggy little nuts. Let's see you kick 'em hard." "No! Please! No! NO!!" Perry begged and began to cry, "Don't do that, master, please! I'll be good, Sir! Jesus, don't kick me there!" Aaron slapped his face. Perry's head flew to the side, flinging off tears and snot into the air. "I TOLD YOU TO SHUT UP, WHORE!!" He shouted. He stood up and backed up a step. "Grab them, fucker! Grab them and hold them out for me." Perry was openly crying like a little girl now. He reached down with a trembling hand and grabbed his nuts. He squeezed them, making them into a little shiny ball at the end of his fist. He was so scared, but he didn't dare disobey. He held them up for Aaron. What a sight it was to see. The little boy, crying freely, his tears and snot running down his cute face. In his hands, between his spread hairless loins he held his own balls in his fist, knowing he was going to get them kicked. He felt so degraded, so stupid and small. Fear made his stomach flop inside him. But his little cock was still as hard as a pencil. The fear and degradation only made him feel more wildly horny. His whole frame shook with conflicting emotions. Then he heard Aaron's next command: "Beg," he said. Jack laughed. He flopped back in the big easy chair and sat back to watch. His cock lay across his thigh, limber and wet. Despite having cum twice it was filling up with blood again, as he enjoyed watching Aaron put his faggot son through his paces. "P-please do it," Perry whimpered and burst into fresh tears. "Not good enough, fag. Do what?" Aaron demanded. "Ohhh...Goddd...." Perry wailed, "P-please kick my... nuts," He sniffed a little and gulped down his snot. "Your fag, nuts," Aaron corrected. "My fag nuts, sir. Please kick my fag nuts." Perry broke down into racking sobs. "That's better." Aaron said. He swung his foot out. His toes made contact with Perry's balls, right under where his fingers held them. The shiny ball in his fist pulled away and almost ripped off him. Perry screamed like a wounded animal and fell back. He let go of his throbbing testicles and rolled around, curling into a fetal position, his arms going between his legs. He coughed and choked and then wailed loudly. It had been the worst pain he ever felt. It ached deep in his body and made him feel like throwing up. For the first time that evening his prick shrank and flopped around limp. But Aaron was not through yet. He kicked the kid's exposed ass, ramming his toes into the boy's ass-slit. Perry curled up tighter on the floor and tucked his head down, tears and snot flowing freely. Aaron picked up the belt and began to rain blows on the kid's back and sides. Raising red welts on his exposed body. All the while his Dad just laughed and jerked his cock. Aaron finally tired of beating the boy. He let the belt drop and huffed a bit. Perry knew it was over for now. Slowly he pulled himself together. Wow, that had really been intense. The throbbing in his balls began to recede a bit, although they still pounded. His cock came up again. He moved a little then turned and got up on his hands and knees. He crawled over to Aaron, still moaning and sobbing and bent down his head to the boy's smelly feet. He kissed the toes. "Thank you Master, thank you for punishing your little fag-slave, sir." "Hey, what did I tell you about speaking without permission? You'd better watch that, slut, or I'll think up something worse for you." Perry sighed. He continued to kiss and lick Aaron's foot. It was the only way now he could tell his master how he felt. "You ready for my shit, now, toilet-face?" "Yes, Master, anything, anything!""Perry babbled around the toes in his lips. "Yeah! Let's see you do that, Aaron! Shit the faggot!" 10. Aaron kicked at the boy's lips with his wet toes. "Up, Pig-boy, up on your knees," he ordered. Perry moved up and sat on his heels. Both father and older son noted how hard his little-boy cock was from the abuse he was receiving. Aaron pointed to it and laughed. "Look at that stupid little faggot's weenie, Pop, what do you think of that?" Jack laughed. "I'd say he is horny as hell for your turds, Son. It's hard to tell, though, it's so small." He looked down at Perry. The boy's blonde head was bowed in utter shame. He reached down and pulled the boy's head back, bending his neck back so the boy had to look at him. Perry was forced to stare up at his handsome father's leering face. The man saw how glassy his eyes were, his whole face showing his submission to him. Made his cock lurch in the air and it drooled out a big drop of pre-fuck when he noticed how raw and red the boy's lips were. "Spread your legs wider, whore. I can't see your little dink." Perry trembled. He knew his Dad could see his cock and how hard it was. The man was just trying to make him feel worse about his little cock. He did as he was told, struggling on his knees to spread wider. He also thrust his pelvis up for him, his erection wagging around in front of him. "Think I can see it, now. You must be horny, aren't you? Are you horny for what your brother has for you?" Perry felt a stab of fear in his belly. He knew he would have to go through with the shit-eating. His father's eyes glittered evilly. He knew from looking at him that the man would show no mercy, that he would get off to his ultimate degradation. Only one answer was possible. He felt the fear spreading warmly out to his thin arms and legs, making his bald nuts stir. His cock jumped. "Yes, Master," He said, softly. Remembering what they wanted from him he began to beg. "Please, Master, can I eat shit? Can I have your shit in my mouth and down my throat? Please?" Jack laughed again, his deep voice rumbling harshly in the room. Aaron brought up his foot and placed it squarely on Perry's chest. He pushed the kid until he fell back. The boy bent backwards until his head hit the carpet. His legs were still folded under him. He felt like he was getting all bent like a pretzel. His immature muscles strained and trembled. But he was still so young and supple that, however uncomfortable it might be, he was able to maintain the ridiculous posture. Jason stepped over the kid and placed his big feet at either side of Perry's head. Then he crouched down over the boy's face, reaching back to spread his firm, sweaty butt-cheeks. He sat on Perry's face and squirmed a little, wiping his hairy hole on the boy's hot lips. Perry sighed with piggish pleasure. He was in his favorite place, his head up his brother's hot ass. He went right to work, licking around the tough muscle between those hard globes, kissing the hot asshole lips and sticking his tongue up inside Aaron's dirty colon. "Yeah, get to work asswipe. Do this for me and I'll let you come off as a reward. Eat my fucking shit, toilet face." Perry brightened when he heard that. He was so horny, and it had been a long time since Aaron had actually allowed him to shoot off. He looked forward to a guilt-free orgasm, for once. He attacked Aaron's hole eagerly. He pushed his pointed tongue up the shit-tube, and licked at the end of his turd. He sucked hard at the boy's slimy ring, hoping Aaron would shit it out and get the whole thing over with soon. Suddenly he felt a rush of warm air blast into his mouth and a foul odor filling his nostrils. "That's it, Son, fart in his fucking mouth! Shit, that stinks!" Jack was laughing again. He backed away fanning his nose. "God, Aaron, what the hell have you been eating anyway?" Aaron grinned up at his Dad. "A big ole bean burrito. Now this fag is going to get it second hand. Gonna make him eat my fucking lunch for his dinner." The boy grunted, his firm tummy straining and farted again. This time Perry could feel tiny spatters of ass juice sprinkling his inner cheeks. The smell really got to him. It smelled like pure raw shit. Perry had always secretly loved sniffing the bathroom air after his brother had shit. He had often gotten off to sniffing the track marks on his underwear. And, of course he had licked plenty of it from his asshole when rimming the boy. Now he had no choice at all. He was going to get a whole ripe log of it. Right in his slave-mouth! Aaron strained some more and the turd began to slide out. It stretched his asshole wide between Perry's lips. Perry opened his mouth as wide as he could, shaking and going into a kind of fit. His emotions overwhelmed him and he began to cry. His tears leaked from his eyes and ran down his neck. His little bone throbbed at his naked groin. Aaron's hot turd slid over his tongue slowly. God, it was awful! Fat, and thick as chunky peanut butter, horrible smelling, really nasty! The heated stench of it radiated in his mouth and seemed to clog his nostrils. Perry gagged and coughed, valiantly struggling not to puke. Of course, this only made the other two laugh uproariously. Perry felt like the lowest most disgusting thing in the world. Who ate another guy's shit, let another guy shit in his mouth? Only the most perverted, lowest fag in existence. He'd never heard of anyone doing what he was doing right now. He also knew there was no turning back. Once he had swallowed Aaron's shit he would always be a toilet. His father was right there watching, getting off to it. Aaron would tell the others and he would always be known for what he was, a little shit eating faggot. Aaron grunted and forced more shit from his ass. As he did he leaned over and grabbed Perry's erect nipples. He pulled and twisted them brutally, knowing it would make Perry hotter than hell. His cock boned up hard as he luxuriated in shitting right in the little boy's mouth. It was the best thing he had done with the kid yet. It really felt great, dominating and degrading the little queer this way. He knew he'd have to do this again, oh yeah, a lot more! "Unh! Take it, scumbag, take my fuckin' turd!" He grunted as he emptied his guts. He wriggled his shitting hole on Perry's lips thrilling to how soft and warm they felt on his stretched anus. "Don't swallow it yet, fucker, just suck on it." He ordered. He soon felt the end of it slither from his hole. He jumped up, his cock smacking his belly as he did. He looked down with triumph seeing Perry's mouth full of turd. "Look at that, Dad, look at the little fag." He said pointing to Perry's face. "Goddamn..." Jack chuckled. He leaned over to get a better look. He wrinkled his nose at the filthy stench. Then he hocked up a huge wad and spit it out. The gooey snotty glob splattered over the turd and Perry's smeared lips and nose. Perry winced, but kept his mouth open, hardly daring to believe in any of this. It wasn't possible that he was laying on his back, his knees spread wide, his mouth full of shit, his face dripping with his father's snot. His slim prick was coated now with his slime and it ran down his hairless balls. His eyes still streamed with hot tears. He tried hard not to spit out the filthy thing in his face. "Suck on it, slave. Suck it and slide it in and out of your lips, cunt." Aaron ordered. Perry did as he was told. He let his cheeks collapse around the nasty turd and pushed it in and out, smearing his red lips with brown filth. He tried to make believe it was a fat cock and it became a little easier. It was about the size of one of the boy's cocks, just about. Except a cock never had tasted this awful, even after being fucked up his ass. "Now chew it," his father demanded. Perry's lips quivered and twitched. He forced himself to bite into the shit. He felt it squishing over his teeth and shivered. The released flavors and heat assailed his senses. His belly heaved. "Don't you dare, fucker. You puke on that and you'll be fucking sorry!" Aaron snarled. "Just chew it up and flush it down your sewer throat. Do it!" Perry gulped down his barf and continued to chew. His mind raced to find a way to deal with this. He slowly began to adjust to it. After all, it was Aaron's shit, fresh from his beautiful ass. Perry had worshiped that ass so many times, couldn't get enough of it and the way it smelled. His shit was a lot more intense, like a concentrated dose of what he got every day. He warmed to the idea, and then became inflamed by it. It was too late to go back anyway. He had to admit, nasty as it was, it tasted like the boy he desired the most in this world. He would do anything for him, even this. He began to chew more enthusiastically. God, it was actually Aaron's shit and he was eating it, getting the full flavor of it. He actually started to feel grateful that Aaron had given it to him. He steeled himself to swallow. His mind rebelled against it. Swallowing dirty shit! Nothing could be worse in the whole world. But he knew he had no choice. His mouth was filling with saliva and he had to swallow or suffocate. He gulped down his first piece of male shit, feeling it slide like a lump of lead into his belly. He gagged again and shivered all over. He raised his eyes and saw them, watching him, getting off to it, loving what he was doing for them. He realized that he was pleasing his men and for some reason it made him want to do it again. He gulped down more and more until his mouth was empty. The next few lumps made him feel suddenly hungry for more. He wished he hadn't swallowed it so fast. He suddenly craved more to savor and enjoy. He knew for sure then that a slave like him was also meant to be a toilet."He actually liked it, was starting to really get off to it. He wanted more! "God, the little shit-face really did it! He ate your fucking shit!" Jack exclaimed, his eyes bugging out, his cock pounding. Aaron laughed. "I always knew he would. The fucker loves slurping up a dirty ass." Once again, the jock teen straddled the submissive kid and squatted over his face. Perry gazed up, licking his brown lips. Aaron's shitty ass-pucker was nearly at his lips again. Perry couldn't help sticking out his stained tongue and licking at it. "Want more, butt-sucker?" Aaron taunted, rising up just out of Perry's reach. The boy whimpered. "Please, Master? Please feed me more, Sir. I want to eat it all for you, please!" "What are you, boy?" Jack demanded, "Tell us both what you are now." "Tell us, bitch, or I won't give you any more," Aaron said. "I'm your toilet, Sir." "Goddamn, right. You are just a fucking toilet. Are you gonna be a toilet for Dad, too, if he wants that?" "Yes, Master." "And for my buddies, too. You want me to tell them you eat shit and let them dump in you?" "Yes, Master." Perry shuddered all over. He knew his life as a normal twelve-year-old boy was ending. From now on he would be nothing more than a fuck-toy and a toilet hole for the big boys. "You are a sick, twisted motherfucker. Open up and get your fucking dinner, you pig." Aaron lowered his ass back to Perry's grateful lips. He pushed and dropped another big turd down Perry's tongue. Perry groaned and sucked it, chewing it right out of his big brother's hot ass. When Aaron had emptied the last bit of it in him and he had finished gulping it down, he licked the boy's asshole, cleaning it like he knew Aaron would want. Aaron was beating his meat now, getting ready to blow off. Treating Perry like this was such a thrill. He knew he had the boy under his thumb for the rest of his life. He wiped his ass all over the boy's lips and nose, bucking his hips. Then, he stood, his cock pounding with the power he felt over the young boy. He stared down at the shit-smeared face and laughed, gripping his cock, ready to beat off and shoot on the brown-nosing punk. His father was in about the same condition. The muscular man gripped his hose, which had now regained its full rigidity. It was at that moment that they heard the phone ring in the next room. That kind of brought the other two back down to reality. They looked at each other, with puzzled looks. "Who the hell is that?" Jack muttered. He left the room to answer it. He was gone for a few minutes and the boys could hear his talking. Then he was raising his voice, sounding angry. They heard the phone crashing back in its cradle and then Jack returned, slamming the door wide open as he passed through it. His face was a mask of frustration. "What's the matter, Dad?" Aaron asked, "Who was that?" "Christ! It was your mother... She's drunk again. She's going to spend the night at Clarissa's. I swear, those two fucking whores! Whenever they get together it's always the same fucking story! I don't know what your mother sees in that woman, she's a fucking alkie. I think she's turning your mom into one as well," Jack shook his head and scowled. "What a drag, Dad. What are we going to do for dinner?" Aaron asked. "Dinner...? Ha! Dinner... Hell, I guess I'll just order a pizza, or something..." the man said, looking right through the boys, lost in a momentary thought. Then his eyes lit on young Perry. He suddenly realized the freedom this gave him, having his wife gone for the night. Sure, he was pissed as hell at her. Now he had someone to take out his passions on. He grinned evilly down at the shit-smeared child. "Never mind... We will make do just fine without her. In the meantime, Change of fucking plans! Looks like we're gonna be able to use this queer some more, tonight. Let's really take him down, Aaron, have some fun with the bitch." "You're right, Pop! We can do whatever we like with him, now! Let's get that Pizza and then we'll fuck him up good!" Jack went out to the garage and returned with some rope. He tied the kid's arms behind his back, and then tied his ankles together. He picked the light kid up and threw him over his shoulder. He carried the kid up to the attic, Aaron padding along behind. In the attic, Jack found what he was looking for. There were large hooks in the ceiling that he used to hang his bike from, before he had sold it. He hung the boy by his wrists from it and stepped back to admire the sight. Continued in part 4...	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/43/adventures3.txt
62,963	Obmuj (address withheld), edited by knivesreturns	Excitement of Her First Apartment	Yancy was a charming young girl who had just finished high school and already had a job lined up, and accepted to a college. With help from her family, she was soon decorating her very own apartment. A virgin; a virgin on the verge, Yancy found love in ways she couldn't have known before moving into her own pad. "No, I can't... please let me up... don't do this, please Mr. Prather... Oh, what are you...? Mr. Prather, what are you going to? No Mr. Prather!" "Yancy, call me Randy." "Okay... Randy... you must stop... no, please... don't take my panties off." Yancy felt embarrassment and some unknown passion at the same time, as the older man moved his hands all over the crotch of her panties. Then to her amazement, Yancy felt a male finger slip inside the leg band of her panties for the first time, pushing them to one side so his fingers were able to pull at the pubes over her sex, and a finger was sliding up into her sex. Attempting to hold the man's arm so he couldn't probe her virgin sex with his finger, Yancy felt herself starting to enjoy the feeling of his finger in her. "NO! Stop Randy let me up, and we'll talk about this later, like the next time you come over. I will let you then... your hurting me, take... take your finger out of me... ohhhh, noooo!" Then Yancy felt arousal coursing between her thighs and at the same time Randy was once more sucking and nibbling at her nipples. Suddenly the finger inside her caused her some pain and she cried out for the man to stop. Her hips were moving as Yancy was trying to escape the man's probing fingers. How many he now was using, Yancy didn't know. She tried to stop her hips from moving from the persuasive stimulation the fingers were creating in her sex. Yet for Yancy it wasn't helping, as the more she tried to escape from the fingers in her sex, the more she wanted to feel them. "Please, no more Randy... I'm really a virgin... oh you must stop." Yancy could feel his fingers yet, she wanted them ever deeper and deeper. She wanted something else... "What do I want, for his fingers to be in her even deeper?" Yancy asked herself. "I told you Randy, I'm not that kind of girl. Randy! You must... oh you must stop. I'll let you touch me... if I can put my panties and bra back on... no Randy... please stop... don't suck on my breasts... augh, Randy!" "Ohhhh... Randy... you mustn't put your lips on me down there. I... Randy, oh no... don't lay on me like that... aughhhh!" Yancy cried out as the man who was as old as her father, and his best friend, was attempting to put his large erection into her body. Yancy begged the older man to stop, as she felt the tip of his manhood trying to gain entrance to her virginal body. "Randy, no... you're hurting me, stop. I'm a virgin... no!" "How did this start and happen?" the comely teen girl wondered, as she pushed her hands and arms against his strong body. Watching through his telescope, with the camera recording it all onto his computer's disk, the man had affixed to capture shooting stars, comets and other celestial bodies, Peter was beside himself as he saw the young girl about to have sex in her bathroom. "My god, no man has a cock that's huge, at least 10-inches long, and damn it's as thick as her wrist... How will that young girl take that monster into her tender body?" Peter spoke out loud, although no one else was in the room of his home with him. Young, and finally getting her own apartment, 18-year-old Yancy Adams feels excitement to surpass any thing that had ever happened in her young life. Obtaining an apartment, after sharing a room with two other sisters while growing up, was going to give her such personal satisfaction. Yancy knew she could ask her friend Loretta Parsons to spend a night with her. Her family consisted of Betsy who was 15, Cindy 12, and Jessi who was 5, were her three sisters. Her five brothers, Martin 17, Robert, Jr. 13, Greg, 10, Lloyd 8, and Tim, the baby of the family was 3-years-old. Her father, Robert had just turned 41, and still, handsome-looking. He left for work each morning at his own CPA firm. Mona, Yancy's mother, was an older version of herself. They swam nude, together, in the small pool behind the built-up, creek-rock and concrete dam her father had built for a swimming area. Yancy could not believe her mother had nine children as she was still so shapely. There were hardly any stretch marks on her pale skin, except at the top of her upper thighs, near where her legs joined her body. Having her own apartment was going to be such fun. Best of all, she would have a place all to herself; her own space, that would be hers and hers alone. When her father gave her the money needed to pay the first months rent and deposit, Yancy hugged him as they stood in the basement of their home. "Honey, you must not tell your mother, sisters or brothers, but I'm going to fix up two rooms here in the basement for Betsy and Cindy. That way, they can have their own rooms. I want it as a surprise, and according to the contractor, it will only take two weeks. Then, Little Jessi can have your old room. The boys will be able to split up their rooms, so the oldest of my sons will always have his personal room, as I'm putting another room on the back of the house. Her father had explained all this to Yancy, and told her that he owed her that much, so he gave her the money needed to be on her own. You mustn't tell the others. The contractors are supposed to start work on the additions on the Saturday the tenth, as we are leaving on vacation the ninth. You will need to check each day on how things are going, and I've arranged for you to purchase the furniture you need for your new home. With that, Robert handed Yancy a check for $1,000 she'd need to furnish her apartment. After telling Yancy all of his plans, he smiled and told her to not let any of this out. "Yancy, I'm so proud of what you've accomplished during your young life; being valedictorian of your senior class, and earning a full scholarship." He kissed her cheek as he added, "I can't believe you earned a 4.5 grade point average." Robert had inherited his parent's farm after they passed away. He sold the back 80 acres which provided him with the money to remodel the farm home where he was raised. "Yancy, again I ask you not to speak to anyone about all I've said to you today. Now, allow me to have one of the keys to your apartment so I can drop in whenever you need something done. I'll never enter your place without calling you first. You're so much like your mother." Three weeks before, Yancy Elizabeth Adams had finished high school; she had immediately enrolled in the junior college a dozen miles from her home town. She also applied for a work at the local medical center. When the office manager found out the teenager was going to study nursing, along with her courses in high school; she was hired immediately. During her junior and senior high school years, Yancy took home health care and nurses' aid classes at the junior college. This gave Yancy a heads up in gaining entrance to nursing school. Her full scholarship impressed Dean Dorothy Brooks, of the nursing school, as did her many educational achievements. This enabled Yancy to obtain the part-time employment of 30 hours a week. "No, Yancy, you can't move out and leave me alone with Cindy and now Jessi will move into my room, so I still have no room of my own," Betsy, her 15-year-old sister was telling Yancy. The two sisters were standing in their room as Yancy was packing the last of her clothes, and she asked Betsy, "Want to go furniture shopping with me, I'd like you help in selecting the things I need." They slipped on their sandals and got into the used Eclipse that Yancy had purchased with the money she saved from working. In moments they were on the Interstate, headed toward Dayton. Her father suggested a specific store as the owner was a client of his, and it was an independent place. The sisters walked in and looked around. The sales clerk asked if they needed help, but Yancy told her that she wanted to look around first. "What all do you need to get Yancy, her sister Betsy asked?" "I'm going to get a sleeper sofa of some type. I saw a photo in an ad, and it showed the back folded down so that you didn't need to pull the whole thing out." Yancy told her sister. "It looked big enough for me to sleep on without letting the back down." Walking into the sleeper sofa area, Betsy, with excitement in her voice said, "Look, Yancy, the pretty yellow one, and the legs are chrome... its neat!Setting down on the sofa, Yancy liked the way it felt as she rested on the unit, and then she lay back to see how it felt if she was sleeping. "This feels really comfortable," and standing up, she looked at the price tag and saw it was regularly $459.99, but was on sale for $300. The sales lady had been observing the two young girls and was not certain if they were really interested in a purchase or perhaps trying to steal something. Walking to the office, she told Mr. Prather that she thought the girls may be trying to steal something, and then she confronted Yancy and Betsy. "Please, don't lie on the furniture or sit on it as you will get it dirty." The tone in her voice and the petty accusations caused Yancy to take an immediate dislike to the woman, and she asked, "Is Mr. Prather here? I would like to speak with him personally, if you don't mind." "He is busy at the moment, so I will help you. If you're not interested in purchasing something, you should leave." Having been in the store a couple of times with her father, she knew Mr. Prather. Yancy walked into his office, as the door was open, and spoke to the owner, "Hello, Mr. Prather, could you assist my sister and me? We seem to be a problem for the lady on the floor." "How nice to see you, Yancy, and your father says you're moving into your own apartment; becoming an adult now. And Betsy, you're looking so pretty. What are you now? Fifteen, I believe." "Yes, I'll be 16 in two months, and then I get my driver's license. I'll be able to borrow my favorite sister's car to drive." "What can I do for you Yancy? You say Mrs. Murphy is upsetting you. Come on... I'll see if we can't get you what you need." Mr. Prather looked at the pretty image in front of him. If the girl wasn't the daughter of not only his accountant, but a close golfing friend, his lascivious mind would soon have a conversation over dinner with the brown-haired beauty. "I think the yellow sleeper sofa will be just right, but I need a table and chairs, and a couple of end tables, and perhaps a small living room chair." After tagging the sleeper as sold, and Yancy saw her name on the sold ticket, Mr. Prather looked on his inventory sheet and told Yancy, "I have this in a deep royal blue and also in black if you would like to see them in back." "Yancy, let's see the blue... it's my favorite color in the whole world. Remember when I wanted to paint our bedroom blue at home; and mom had a fit, but, dad let us," Betsy laughing, commented. "Sure, we can look at it if Mr. Prather does not have a problem showing it to us," Yancy replied. As they walked into the warehouse area of the store, Yancy saw a corner bench that had a table with it, and asked Mr. Prather how much it cost. When he told her it was going on sale next week for $199, he would let her have it today, if she wanted it at that price. They walked over and looked at the deep royal blue sleeper, and immediately, both she and Betsy decided it was the one they wanted instead of the yellow one. Mr. Prather showed her a couple of end tables, which had a cocktail table with them, and they had been used as floor models for more than a year. "Yancy, they match the finish of the corner bench dining table, and if you want them, they will be $100 for all." Walking back out to the show room, Mr. Prather led the sisters over to where the chairs were located, and immediately Yancy saw a rocker, with padding on the arms and a cushion attached to the chair seat, and the wood finish was the same as the tables and corner table and bench. "Look, Oh Betsy I love the chair, all I need is a cat on my lap and I could be an old maid." Looking at the price tag, Yancy saw it was $599.99 for the rocker, and after adding up the prices on the small tablet, the price of the four items, Yancy saw she would have $1,198.99, and her father had given her a check for $1,000, which meant she was just short by about $200 for everything she wanted. Thinking if she didn't take the corner table and bench, she'd have enough to purchase the chair, and yet she needed a place to eat and do her homework. Even dropping the three living room tables would leave her $100 short. Telling Mr. Prather how much money she had to spend on the furniture, she explained her problem to him. Mr. Prather saw her dilemma and thought, "If I drop $200 from the price of the rocker, I will not make anything on the total items she wanted." Thinking for a moment, he said, "Yancy, I will lower the price of the rocker by a hundred, and you can pay off the balance over a few months." Jerkily, Yancy flopped down on the chair and didn't notice her skirt flipped enough that Mr. Prather got a view of her pubic hair peeking outside the leg of her panties. The excited girl had her legs spread when she had sat down, and his lust-filled eyes were treated to the silky smoothness of her teenage legs. Due to her excitement, Yancy did not close her legs nor pull her skirt down, and Betsy, seated in a chair next to her sister, didn't see her sister's crotch on display. No one but Mr. Prather was viewing the charms of this innocent, 18-year-old girl. "Mr. Prather, you're so nice. I will invite you to be my first guest and I will fix you your favorite meal. What do you want me to cook for you?" Thinking of the one-liner he had remembered hearing as a kid growing up on the farm in Idaho, he wanted to tell Yancy, "A sheep herder's special," which had the punch line, "Which is a piece of ewe." Instead, "I love roast beef, mashed potatoes with great gravy from the roast drippings, and steamed asparagus spears, and homemade peach pie with cinnamon ice cream." Smiling, he asked, "Is tomorrow too soon for that dinner? I will have the men deliver your purchases this afternoon. Deal on everything?" As she stood up, she exposed even more of her panty-covered sex. Again, Randy Prather saw what must be a massive thick growth of hair between his young customer's shapely, curvaceous young legs. Feeling a little flirty, Yancy had for the first time in her life decided to be a little bold, and expose her upper legs. How much she was exposing was not known to her or she would have closed her legs. "Does Mr. Prather enjoy seeing my legs; does he think they are sexy?" Yancy asked herself.To her surprise, Betsy was holding a large and evidently expensive statue of the Pietà. When Betsy asked what it cost, she smiled and replied, "Mom, can I have my allowance for the next year?" Everyone wanted to help put the groceries away, but Mona placed the items, other than the refrigerator items, as near to where they would be at home. Mona couldn't wait until a month later to see how Yancy would have changed them to her own way of wishing them to be available. Robert's cell phone rang. It was Randy, calling and telling him that they were only about five minutes from the apartment. "Robert, your daughter has been anxious to get to her new home - she has broken the speed limit by 10 to 15 miles per hour," Robert's friend chuckled. Robert said goodbye and then told his family, "Okay everyone, move your vehicles quickly and then run back here as your sister will be here in a few minutes." Everyone hid behind the small partition that separated the kitchen from the combination living-bedroom room. They turned off the lights and pulled the window shades shut to make it even darker in the apartment. When Yancy pulled up and parked, she was surprised that none of her family's vehicles were at her place. Randy even added to her concern by commenting, "Where in the heck is my delivery crew? Did you see the truck as we came here? Guess they must have gotten lost." Randy helped Yancy get the children from her mother's SUV. He was holding Tim in his arms, while standing behind the pretty teenager. To his surprise, when she bent to unfasten the straps on the car seat holding Jessi, he saw that the back of Yancy's upper legs were exposed as her skirt had ridden up her legs. The slight breeze lifted her skirt to where he could view the under curve of her hips. "Looking at the short skirts the girl was wearing today was just like those in the 60's... revealing," Randy thought. They made small talk as they walked down to the sidewalk to the efficiency apartment. It had been a three-car garage on the back of the property of the large older home. The owner had built a new garage attached to the house. Unlocking the door for Yancy and opening it for her, she stepped inside and searched for the light switch. After finding the switch, she flipped it and the sight before her eyes was enough to shock her, and then her family ran toward her and cried out, "Welcome home, Yancy!" Her eyes filled with tears, and her sisters all hugged her, then Mona reached out and taking her eldest daughter in her arms, hugged and kissed her. Everything was in place, including lamps. She knew her parents had to have done this for her. Then her eyes fell on the favorite piece of art, the Pietà statue, sitting on her new cocktail table. She read the card that lay by it and saw that Betsy had purchased the gift for her. She cried even harder. "Mommy, daddy, everyone, oh thank you all, my brothers and sisters," and only then did Yancy realize she was standing on carpet, and again was amazed and thankful. No one had noticed that Randy had walked out the door, and when he returned, he was carrying a large item in his hand, and he handed it to Yancy and told her, "For my favorite customer, and I hope you enjoy this gift." Laying the item on her new table, Yancy unwrapped the gift, and eased the bright royal blue ribbon from around the package, and from the shape, she knew it was a print or photograph. After removing the wrapping, there before her eyes and those of her family and others, who had shown up to see her new apartment, was a serigraph of Miró's "Kettle Drum." Robert walked over to where his friend was standing, and reached out, shook Randy's hand and said, "Old friend, what can I say to you? I'll hang that lovely piece of art for my daughter... and thank you very much." After the delivery crew got a hammer and some small nails from their truck, they took the box, and Robert and Randy hung the beautiful silk-screen behind the sofa bed that Yancy had purchased. The surprised teenager did not understand when her mother asked her to see if there was any bottled water or soda left in the fridge. When Yancy opened the door of the refrigerator, she could not believe what her eyes were taking in. Yancy knew that her mother must have done this, and as she opened the doors in the cabinets and kitchen pantry, she saw it was stocked with food and appliances. A microwave was hooked up, and the clock was set at the current time. Robert walked out to the kitchen, and he and Randy opened the champagne, while Mona and Betsy cut the cheese and set out the crackers. By 8:00 PM, the group was leaving, and Randy handed Yancy his card and told her if she had any problems with the items to give him a call, and he had written his cell phone number on the card. She kissed his cheek and told him to stop by Monday, and she would have his promised dinner ready. The last to leave were her father and Betsy, and her mother had taken the other children with her, and her brother drove off in his truck. After everyone was gone, Yancy looked at her apartment and retraced her steps three or four times. She didn't pay attention to how many times, but she found it wonderful to look at every item in her new home. She looked at all the food items in the cabinets and in the refrigerator. As she gazed at each of the small appliances, she laughed to see the teakettle shaped like a copper rooster. Even the hand towels for the kitchen were decorated with roosters, and her mother knew she loved items decorated with roosters when they had shopped together. The rug on the floor of the kitchen in front of the sink had a picture of a rooster. Then her eye took in a 5x7 wall plaque of an old rooster and a cute drawing of a chicken. The rooster was crowing, and the inscription on the top of the plaque read, "Cock-A-Doodle-Do," and illustrated to reflect it coming from the beak of the rooster. The bottom wording was to be coming from the cute hen chicken, and it read, "Any-Old-Cock-Will-Do." Even with her slightly religious beliefs, Yancy had to burst out laughing as she could comprehend the dual meaning of the wording. Looking, Yancy saw a small card attached to the piece of wire holding the item to the nail, and it was signed, "Just for the cutest chick to be on her own, watch out for what the 'Cock-A-Doodle-Might-Do-To-You-Chick-Yancy,' and it was signed, Martin. "My ornery brother, Martin, you are such a rooster, no make that a cock if what Melea Griffin says is true," Yancy said out loud to herself. Melea had told her yesterday that her brother could not get enough of pushing his big bad thing up her... like you know where... Yancy, I can't get enough of him, he is so good when he does me." Laughing at the small homespun piece of art, Yancy remembered when she and Martin had seen each other nude at the creek a year ago, and after a few minutes of being embarrassed, they had swam together in the water behind the small dam. For more than two hours, they had enjoyed playing and swimming in the creek, and when Martin had lain on the creek bank in the sun, she finally rose from the water and lay beside him. Yancy was still innocent in her beliefs. She knew her mother would disapprove of her and her brother being in the nude together. She would likely tell her, "Daughter of mine, be careful, your brother, after all, is a male." While laying nearly against her brother, Yancy had turned and lay on her side, facing her brother, and had moved until she was laying with her head on his chest, looking at his face as they spoke. When Martin moved his hand out and stroked her stomach and almost to her breasts and down her stomach to where her pubic hair grew, Yancy felt disappointment when he did not touch her on those parts of her body. Turning with her back to her brother, she asked him to rub her back, and as she was now facing toward his feet, she saw his penis, and it was in what she knew was the erect state. Giggling to herself, Yancy knew her own brother found her pleasant to gaze upon. In her innocent manner, Yancy did not consider her sexuality to be the cause of her brother being erect. She knew what Melea meant about him being large, as she thought about seeing him nude. Looking around in her own apartment, Yancy once more looked at each thing she could see without opening any doors or drawers. Then she realized someone had placed a television in the corner of the room, and looking closely, she saw it was the one from her mother's bedroom, and sure enough, it was hooked up to the cable outlet. Turning on the set, she found the station with the old movies, and decided she would try out the bath in her new home. The bathroom was located in the back corner of the previous garage building, and on the opposite side of the bathroom wall was the kitchen, which allowed the water and drains for the two rooms to join up and saved money when the place was converted to an efficiency apartment. Turning on the water and after having it adjusted to suit her, Yancy flipped the handle so the tub would fill. Her bubble bath bottle was on the side of the tub, just like at home, and she poured in more than enough to create the amount of bubbles she needed. Undressing, Yancy removed her blouse and skirt, and she had loved the wall in the bathroom when she first looked at the apartment, and it was one reason she had selected the apartment from the other two she had looked at with her mother. The wall had been covered from floor to ceiling with mirrored tile, and she stood looking at her image in her bra and panties. Kicking off her sandals, Yancy moved over to the shoe rack and picked up a pair of mules.Slipping them on, she moved once more before the tiled mirrored wall and looked at her image with only her bra and panties on, along with her shoes. Yancy was pretending to be dancing like a stripper. She had seen it in a couple of movies, including the poorly done Striptease. She made her own moves like a stripper, including bending over and looking between her legs. "Heck, maybe I should get me a job as a stripper, like Amy Steward did last year after finishing high school," Yancy thought. One day she had run into Amy at the DQ, and over a Coke, they spoke about how much money Amy made dancing. "Amy, don't you feel strange letting guys see you nude, and is it true you put your hands on your 'thing' while they watch you?" "Not when I get $300 or more a night in tips do I feel strange. And heck, when you finish school this coming June, look me up. Guys would love to see you nude." Amy added, "Heck, letting them see me on stage isn't any different than when guys stripped my clothes off in the back seat of his car, or in a motel room?" Seeing her image as she was bent over and her head between her legs made her giggle. She tried to imagine why men would wish to view a woman's naked behind. She saw the tub was full, turned off the water, and removed her bra and panties as she faced the mirrors. Looking at her body in the large mirrored area, Yancy saw her breasts were pointed, with light-brown nipples that were small and stuck out from the darker areolas. Glancing downward, she noted that her pubic hair was brown and thick. She knew, from seeing the other girls in the shower after gym class, that hers was much thicker than the other girls she checked out. Her mother had told her a couple of weeks ago that she had more hair on her mons than she did. She had told her, "Yancy, I can't tell you what to do, but I believe men enjoy the lushness of the hair on a woman's sex. I hope, before you should ever trim or shave it off, you should think long and hard concerning any idea of removing even part of your growth." Then Mona said to her daughter, "It will never grow back like it was to start with, I know because look at mine." "You shaved yours off, really mom... when... why? Did you have what the girls in school call a 'baldy'?" "Yancy, if I ever wanted to kill your father...," Mona said, as she busted up laughing. "It was when he convinced me to shave it all off, and he even did it for me... I cried... and a week later your father told me, 'grow it back, it pricks my face!'" "Mother, how could it prick his face? MOM? You mean dad!" "Yes, my charming daughter, and someday when you're married, you will find out how wonderful oral sex can be, both receiving and giving... Is that enough of a sex class?" Before she got in the bathtub, Yancy did a few more twists and turns and once more looked at her sex, both front and back, and thought, "So Amy thinks I should show this off to guys... yuck, how gross." Stepping into the hot water, Yancy wasn't certain she could stand it so hot, but sat down in the tub and lay back with her eyes looking at the three small photos the previous tenant must have left on the wall at the end of the tub above the tile. They were of pixie-like girls, with sharp pointed body parts. Even their tiny breasts were illustrated with nail-sharp nipples and breasts on their bony bodies. One print showed two female pixies; one with a massive bush between her legs. It seemed like it was partly braided, but really wasn't. Studying the prints, Yancy could see that the artist had highlighted the images of each pixie to make them look nearly three-dimensional. She reflected, "Perhaps, I should have someone paint me in the nude in some type of fantasy image background. I could have flowers in my hair, even like in the book by D. H. Lawrence, Lady Chatterley's Lover. Until now, I never understood why my mother insisted I read and study the writings in that book. She also wanted me to read and study the 'Song of Solomon' in the Bible. Mother even made me study the story of Esther in the Bible, and how Lot's daughters had gotten their father drunk and became pregnant by him, after his wife had turned into a pillar of salt. They both illustrate that good and evil are written in any book, and you can interpret the writings with cruel and biased judgment when it comes to sex. My mother is religious, yet she has spoken so much of love between man and woman. No wonder she and dad had nine children." Stepping from the tub, Yancy walked over to where someone had set up three candles of different heights on a small metal stand, and she lit them, and returned to the tub after turning off the bathroom lights. "Whoever decided to do the bathroom like this did a really great job as far as I'm concerned," Yancy thought. "They put track lighting all around the room, so it is well lit. But with the dimmer switch, you could make it darker in here." "The large bathroom is to become my favorite room," Yancy reflected, as she looked at the sliding door windows at the end of the room and saw she could look out and see the sky.She seems mesmerized with her own maiden hair, she is! He watched her as she stepped into the bathtub, then got out after a while, lit candles, and turned the lights down lower. Peter felt a strong sense of disappointment as he knew his image of the girl was over for the night. His computer, however, was able to capture the faint images of objects in the night sky. While looking at the girl in the privacy of her apartment through the telescope, he had evidently turned on the camera. Using the mouse on the computer to guide him back through the time, he spent watching the girl. He discovered he had captured her completely from the time she studied her own body in the walled mirror. For some time, Peter repeatedly studied the images of the attractive and vivacious young teen girl. Thinking to himself, he noted, "Her actions in front of the mirror are similar to those in some movie I've seen. I can't believe I've captured the image of a young girl in all her innocence. Yes," Peter thought, "Her actions are those of an innocent girl who's unaware of how provocative she appears." The following day, Yancy was awake and thought how she had only a couple more days to enjoy her apartment before starting her job. Puttering around, that is what her mother called doing nothing, but finding things to keep herself occupied. First Yancy rearranged her clothes hanging in the closet so they were grouped by type and season. Next, she attacked the drawers of her dresser and then those in the chest of drawers. Moving her bras and panties from the top drawer in the chest to the top left drawer in her new dresser seemed to make sense to Yancy, as this way she could view them when she wanted to wear a certain bra or panty. While looking at her lingerie, Yancy decided she was going to replace her current ones with some that are more exciting. They would have lace trim and aren't all white or pastel color. Taking off her housecoat and selecting a pair of panties that were the brightest she owned, a pair of bright green and nearly iridescent, Yancy found a black bra to wear. Walking into the bathroom and placing the items on the top of the laundry hamper, Yancy could hear birds chirping in the backyard. Walking nude to the open and large window in the bathroom, she could feel the cool morning breeze that entered through the window. The window was actually one of the large glass sliding doors that had been part of the original garage and opened onto a concrete patio. There were wooden privacy fences on each side of the patio so the occupant could not be seen by anyone from the sides of the property. Looking out through the screen and to where one side of the patio was covered over by a roof, Yancy saw the birds singing and chirping away with such pleasure were red house finches. Standing in front of the screened window, the teenager could view the large backyard and the small hill where she could view the houses on the next street over. It didn't enter Yancy's mind that someone could view her standing at the window in the nude, but once more the camera was capturing her image as the powerful lens of the telescope was trained on her body. Peter could not control the need to stroke his erection as he saw the girl move her right hand up and cup her left breast, and plainly view her finger and thumb pressing her nipple between them. To his amazement, his eyes watched her other hand move down and play in the thick hair over her sex. For the first time in her life since she was older, Yancy had the privilege of not having someone observing or sharing her room with her, and she was able to express satisfaction with her own body. The squeezing of her nipples between her fingers was something she'd never experienced. Automatically, her left hand seemed to travel to her sex, as if it was seeking something on its own. Feeling the thickness of her maiden hair, Yancy was playing the fingers of her left hand through the thick growth of hair, and her middle finger moved, as if on its own, down and sought out the small penis-shaped skin of her prepuce. "Umh, aughhhh," Yancy uttered softly, while exploring her own sex for the first time in her eighteen years of life. The feelings are so welcoming and yet so strange, the young girl thought, "Why did my mother warn me not to; 'Play with myself,' and only bad girls did so?" Then, she shuddered in the knowledge that came to her in response to her own question. "Desire for something more, like having a boy touch me... or someone handsome like Mr. Prather," she spoke out in a soft voice to confirm to her own ears that she had discovered the need to want more than to hold hands and a "buzz kiss" when her date brought her home after church or some date to a school function. Yancy recalled being with her brother when they were both nude. "Perhaps I will have Martin come over and we can see each other nude. Yes, I will have him over and we can bathe together in the tub," Yancy thought out loud. Yancy pondered why she had included Mr. Prather in her fantasy, but did recall showing him her thighs, without knowing he had seen more. Moving to the mirrored wall, she sat down on the floor and faced the mirrors, enabling her to look between her legs. For the first time in her life, Yancy felt the need to explore her body. As she pulled the thick hair to one side, she used the fingers on both hands to pull her labia open. Looking at her inner sex, she was amazed at the various folds inside her vagina. The small round nubbin at the top of her sex, Yancy knew, was her clitoris, and the touch of her fingertip on the sensitive button gave her intense wants. Slowly she hunched her hips in such a way that she could view her anus, and she was amazed at the image of the puckered hole. Her eyes once more were studying her oval-shaped sexual opening, and the young girl asked herself, "What sweet wonders it must be to have a man press his hard penis inside such a place on a woman's body?" Standing back up, Yancy suddenly remembered the small and narrow bench-like lounge Mr. Prather had in his store. The red, velvet-like material had felt so smooth and slick as she had run her hand across the material. It would be perfect to place next to the mirrors, and it's wide enough I could nap or sleep on it and listen to the birds with the sliding door open. "I must have it, even if it will cramp my budget, but I'm sure that I can get credit from Mr. Prather to buy it... I'm going to get it now," Yancy decided. Then she remembered how the attractive man had seen up her skirt yesterday. Both times, I sat and hoped he could see up my legs. Knowing she had never openly compromised her modesty in any way. In fact, she had always been afraid to allow a boy her age to look up her skirt, although all her friends told how they loved to flash guys. "I'm going to wear my shortest skirt, the mini that mom bought me a couple weeks ago to show off my legs. Why does mom tell me not to be 'available' to boys, be modest, and not forget that God watches everything you do; yet, she bought me a skirt that reveals my butt, if I'm not careful? Thinking of what her father had said when she first tried it on at home; as she, her parents and Betsy were going out to eat. He remarked, "Mom, did you know our pretty oldest has great legs and a terrific butt, and I just love the pink panties she is wearing." Yancy had felt somewhat embarrassed, but knew her father was teasing her as she had on a pair of dark blue panties. After dressing, Yancy drove over to Dayton and upon arriving at the furniture store; she walked in and smiled as the sales lady greeted her in a much friendlier way: "May I help you Miss Adams? Is there something you would like to see?" "Just looking." Unknown to Yancy, Mr. Prather had observed her enter the store via the security cameras. Walking around the store, Yancy came to the lounge-type sofa and sat down and let her fingers trail across the velvet-like material. "You like that Italian lounge, Yancy? It is pretty, isn't it? Should I deliver it for you this afternoon, after the store closes?" Mr. Prather asked. "Oh, I didn't know you were standing there. Yes, I really like it. But I'm strapped for cash, Could we work out a credit payment for it. I found just the place for it in my bathroom." Yancy went on to explain about the mirrored wall, and without realizing what she was doing, as Mr. Prather was now seated on a chair across from her, she had opened her legs, and the short skirt was hiked up. Her whole crotch was exposed, and as the panty she was wearing was a T-bar style, it allowed considerable expanse of hair to peek through on either side. "Certainly, in fact I will bring it over this afternoon! How about we go out for a snack? I haven't eaten yet, today. How about joining me, and we can discuss how you can pay me?" Walking from the store with Mr. Prather, he led her to his car and opened the door for her. Yancy did not realize her short mini rucked up when she moved her legs into the car. After she had completely sat back in the seat, did she realize that she must have given Mr. Prather a very good peek between her legs. Her face turned red, and she tried to pull her skirt down, but it only reached a few inches below her panty-covered sex. They arrived at what Yancy called the "Down on the Farm" restaurant. When Mr. Prather held the door for her, she knew there was no way to not expose part of her body under her skirt. Instead of worrying about it, she decided to tease the older man, who she found attractive, and she allowed her legs to spread more than she realized, and her thick maiden hair on each side of her panty crotch was his for the viewing.In fact, her panties had slipped across the left lip of her labia, and her sex was split for his enjoyment and viewing. They sat across from each other, and as they ate, they discussed that Yancy could pay five dollars a week on the sofa. Perhaps, he could arrange to let her have it for nothing with just a kiss a week as payment. Yancy knew that Mr. Prather was flirting and seeing how far he could get in teasing her, and perhaps even to the extent of kissing her, and she replied, "How many weeks, no, how many years of kissing would that involve, Mr. Prather?" "Lots, but maybe we could find other ways to pay off the loan... after all, I'm single and you're single... then we could get married." "Mr. Prather, you're silly, but cute for an older guy, you're a lot like my father, no wonder you're such good friends with dad and mom." "Thank you, and yes, your parents and I are the 'best of friends' in lots of ways, Yancy." Smiling as he spoke, he added, "Ask your sweet mother if I'm her favorite boyfriend, and by the way, if we are going to be doing business, call me Randy, and that is for any kind of business." "You're not speaking of monkey business or messing around business, are you, Mr. Prather... Randy, your truly mom's boyfriend? How romantic!" Had Yancy known at that moment that her parents were swingers, and that they partied at least once or twice a week with Randy, she would have likely bolted from the restaurant. Yet the idea of her parents having sex with anyone besides each other never entered Yancy's mind. As they ate, Yancy had felt Randy move his leg against her leg a couple of times, and when he held his legs around her own, she enjoyed the "footsy" game they called it in high school. Knowing she must stop the suggestive "leg wrestling" between them, Yancy wanted to move her legs away. Yet, for the first time in her life, she was alone, and an older male was making a pass at her. After eating, Randy told her he would be over with the chaise lounge around seven o'clock, after the store closed at six. Returning back to the store, Yancy felt heated between her legs, and she understood it was from the intimate feeling she had shared with Mr. Prather, and when she stepped from his car, she allowed her legs to open wide and she knew the older man was looking between her sprayed thighs. Smiling, Yancy asked, "Like... see you at seven, and I will fix dinner for us, what would you like?" "How about I take you out to eat, after all you're my favorite customer, now. Aren't you?" Arriving home, Yancy stopped at her parent's home and asked her mom if she could have the red area rug in the basement for her bathroom. Yancy nearly asked her mother if she was Mr. Prather's girlfriend, but thought she best not. Arriving back at her place, Yancy carried the red rug into the bathroom, and did so through the back door that led into the bathroom. As she was carrying and somewhat dragging the rug, a man was walking across the lawn toward her and spoke, "Let me help you, I'm your neighbor from across the back of the lot, Peter Masters, and you are.....?" "Yancy Adams, and thanks for helping me. This thing is more awkward than heavy, but you're a life saver, Mr. Masters." "Thanks for the compliment, Yancy, but call me Peter. After all, we'll likely be seeing more of each other, and in his mind, the ex-general knew that if he was lucky, one hell of a lot more." Up close, Peter could see the attractiveness of the young girl, and he recalled how her breasts looked as well as her petal-pink labia peeking out of the thick growth of hair covering her mons. After they got the rug inside, Peter could not help but watch as the young girl bent over and straightened the rug out and as she did so, bent over and her skirt rode up over her hips, exposing the rounded buttocks with the T-bar panty slid down between the tight hips. Yancy fixed a special blend of coffee her mother had purchased for her. As they enjoyed the coffee together, Yancy and Peter told each other about themselves. Peter was surprised to learn that Yancy was a Mormon, but really a "Jack Mormon." "Mom and dad kind of got fed up with all the money the church wanted them to contribute. They were awfully restrictive on our lives. In effect, dad said we had no life of our own, as the church tried to live our lives for us." Smiling at her honesty and candor, Peter asked if she had a boyfriend, and when she told him she had been so busy in school and working, and now she was going to start college and a part-time job, she didn't have time for a boyfriend. "Maybe we can become friends. Your neighbor, Mrs. Bronson, her first name is Margaret, is nice. She and I have coffee and Danish a couple of times a week. Yancy, without imposing, may I use your bathroom?" "Yes, of course, here, it is right around the corner," Yancy replied. After returning from the bathroom, Peter thought her to be a very charming and attractive young girl. After returning from the bathroom, he told her, "I like the small pixie prints. I dabble in paints, and I had done them for a lady who had lived here, it is nice to see them still around." "You painted them, really? Mr. Masters. I'm sorry, Peter. You are good." Then, before realizing what she was saying, she told Peter, "When I first looked at them last night, I thought how I'd love to have someone paint me like those. I thought of Lady Chatterley, and how she had the flowers in her hair, even her maiden hair..." Yancy knew what she had said, and her face turned scarlet. She tried to apologize for her poor taste in such a comment. "Yancy, if you want me to paint you, I would be more than happy to do so. Although, I attended the Air Force Academy, and retired as a 51-year-old, two-star general three years ago, I have always liked the arts and I'm also an amateur astronomer." "Really, but... I've never been nude in front of a man before. Don't laugh at me, but I'm kind of shy..." "Yancy, you are evidently attempting to inform me that you're still a virgin, and that is nice to hear from a young woman in today's lifestyles," Peter replied in a soft expressive voice. "We could start by painting you with a nice wrap. I have gossamer material I've used in the past that has sparkling small silver and crystal-like stones woven in the material. It would be perfect for you. Perhaps we can do a quick sketch of you with the material covering you in a couple of weeks." "Really, Mr., I mean Peter. I'm getting a new piece of furniture this evening, a red velvet chaise, and I'm putting it in front of the mirrored wall." "Yes, perhaps you can call when you're ready and we'll let you try the material on and see what you think." Smiling at Yancy, Peter added, "Doing your portrait in the bathroom, on the chaise, and in front of the mirrors would make a nice backdrop." They conversed pleasantly for another hour, then, after Peter left, Yancy walked into the bathroom and looked at the paintings. She had thought they were prints in the way they were painted. There was his signature., it read, "Peter Masters." Until now she wouldn't have known who he was on a personal basis. "Can I let him see me nude, maybe if I hold the material over me in some way... no... if I'm going to be painted as I want, I will be nude." "What will it be like to pose nude in front of a man I just met and let him and let him see my whole body?" Yancy wondered. Thinking that she felt strange the few times in the past year that she had been nude when swimming with her father and mother in the pond. Many times while the three of them swam so intimately together, Yancy had looked at her father's sex and had wanted to hold it in her hand, and she had seen him looking at her breasts and even between her open legs on several occasions. Shortly before seven, Yancy heard Randy pulling up in his delivery van, and she walked out to greet him. Together they carried the chaise lounge around back of the apartment and through the sliding door of the bathroom. Placing it next to the mirrored wall, and with the red throw rug on the floor, she saw it was perfect for the room. "It looks lovely, doesn't it Mr. Prather? Sorry, I mean Randy," and as she spoke, she flopped down on the chaise and her legs opened so her upper legs and panty-covered sex was displayed. "Nice, looks very nice," Randy said with a smile on his face. "Randy, you are a perv, but I guess it's my fault," but as she spoke, Yancy did not move or close her legs. Instead, she curled up like a ball on her side, and smiling, watched as the older man moved toward her. The teenage girl knew she was about to be kissed and likely touched in some sexual way. How much so, she didn't know but a light caress on my clothing-covered breasts won't be so bad. What is a minute of being touched intimately going to hurt? When she saw Randy approach the chaise lounge, she scooted toward the wall, and when he lay down next to her, she squeezed her body against his. Her eyes took in the movement of his face toward hers, and she passively allowed his lips to be pressed onto her own. Then, Yancy resisted as she felt Randy's tongue tip pressing against her lips, trying to enter her mouth. "You're old enough to be my father, you know that, don't you?" Yancy asked as she broke the kiss for a moment. When Randy's hand moved up and cupped her breasts, she knew the feeling of sex arousal for the first time in her young life. Her mind said to stop, but her body was enjoying the feelings caused by the firm and large hand on her covered breasts, one after the other. "Lift up," Randy said, as he begins to slide her top up past her breasts, and over her head. Yancy, just raised her arms, and allowed her top to be removed.Randy gently massaged her breasts through her bra. But, when she felt him trying to slip the cups up over her breasts, she pulled back, "No, not yet, some other time, but not now. Please Randy, I'm really starting to become scared, and think we should stop." He knew how to get a young woman's libido heated, while keeping her resistance to a minimum. Randy was once more kissing the young girl's lips, then moving onto her face and neck. His lips traveled down to brush across the mounds of her breasts that were outside the cups of her bra. Yancy, for her part, did not protest as his hand moved under her skirt and between her nude thighs. As they lay, kissing, Yancy felt his hand stroking her thighs and working their way across the front of her panties to stroke the tightly clinched area of her sex. She could feel him tangle his fingers in her thick bush that protruded out of her crotch band as he unzipped her skirt. Again, she did not resist. "Rise up, so I can take your skirt down. Please, Yancy, let me see and touch you, even if only in your panties and bra. Please." She raised her hips, then watched Randy stand up and undress. He was soon nude in front of her. Her eyes took in the large and thick man-thing hanging from his body, and she compared it to the only other one she had ever seen; that of her brother, Martin. The one was nearly twice the size of her brother's penis both in length and girth. Yancy was glad she wasn't going to be nude and feel the large thing try to enter her body. Randy lay back down next to her, and placed her hand on his large manhood. She suddenly knew it was time to stop the intimacy between herself and the older man. Once more she was being kissed, and this time she felt her bra being unsnapped in the back, and pulled off her arms. "No, Randy. I can't... don't take my bra off. No! Oh... you can't kiss my breasts... stop. Randy..., no!" Her fingers curled around his member, now larger and thicker throbbing in her hand, she failed to notice that her panties were being pushed down over her hips. "Randy... no... no... not my panties, ohhhh... stop, Randy stop... no more," Yancy was pleading as her panties were removed from her legs. Yancy could not believe the pleasant and stimulating sensations she was receiving as her breasts were being fondled, and her nipples sucked. Then she felt Randy kissing her sex, and she begged him to stop. "Randy... no... you can't kiss me there... Stop, take your mouth away... Get off me!" "Open your legs, let me just put my cock against your pussy, I won't go all the way, just inside the edge, please Yancy." "No... take it away... Aughhh, ohhhhh, Randy... Take it out. It hurts... stop. Let me put my bra and panties back on, and I will let you... Honest I will... I'll let you do it... ohhhh, noooo, stopppp... Randy stop or I will tell dad!" With tears in her eyes, Yancy felt so confused. She had the desire, but was afraid. Even though she was turned on by having a man's penis against her virgin sex, Still nude, and with Randy kissing and sucking at her nipples, Yancy was whimpering and asking the man to not kiss or suck at her breasts. When she once more felt a man's tongue on her sex, and the feeling of it licking from the top to the bottom of her slit, and back up to tease her clitoris, Yancy sobbed out, "Ohhhh... Randy, no more tonight... wait until the next time...! Oh, Randy..., you must stop... Aughhhh, Randy, I'm... I'm aughhh!" Both Yancy and Randy knew that she had just climaxed. But for her, alone, she knew it was her first orgasm. Pushing him away, she curled up in a ball and faced the mirrored wall. She felt the strong and virile man move against her back and buttocks in a spoon like manner. She shuddered as his large manhood was poking between her hips, and against her tiny anal ring. She felt Randy roll her onto her back, and look at her as he told her, "Relax, I won't try to enter you, I just want to feel the head of my cock against your virgin pussy. Please, Yancy, I promise, that is all I want." For whatever the reason, Yancy trusted the man who had just given her the first orgasm of her life. His long, thick cock was between the lips of her sex, and she did what he told her, "Hold it against you, hold my cock in your hand against your cherry pussy." The feeling was so strong, and Yancy even rubbed it between her labia as Randy asked. She was about to tell him, "Put it in me," when she felt it quiver. Then her sex and belly were splashed in what she understood was his semen. "No... no... pull it away! Don't get your stuff in me... Don't get me pregnant. Oh, my God, Randy. Will I become pregnant? Tell me the truth." "No, but my God, that is the most I ever went off in my life." Moving onto his side and laying next to the girl, he picked up his shirt and wiped his cock. Then, he got a towel and placed it under them, "This will keep your new chaise from being messed up." His semen had splashed onto the thick hair of her sex, on her stomach and in the edge of her pussy. As they lay together Randy's fingers massaged the thick spermy puddles into her skin. He picked up a large a glob of his cum as he could and let it slip between the lips of her virgin sex. Still using his fingers, he pushed it inside Yancy's slippery, and slightly open labia. With a perverse need, he moved more of his spunk into her open sex. He hoped that one of his boys had swum its way up her uterus and punctured one of her eggs. It wasn't her cycle time, so she was safe, but had she known what he was up to as he lubed her open labia , she would have hated him even more than she already did from his nearly raping her. For Peter, the sight was more than he could have ever imagined. He wondered how the man knew her. He was still amazed at the size of the erection the man had hanging between his legs. When he saw the guy on top of her, he thought she had been penetrated, as he couldn't hear what was said between them. Watching the man unload the huge amount of semen, he was amazed at how much cum the man unleashed from his cock. Looking on, Peter thought, "That must be at least eight or ten tablespoons full. My God, I can't wait to see her in the nude and paint her. Will I be so lucky to get close to her?" Peter continued to record the action in the bathroom, until Yancy and the man rose from the sofa and was dressed. When he saw them leave the bathroom, he waited until the man drive off. For another hour, Peter watched for the girl to return to the bathroom. Finally, he saw her enter the room and check out the sofa. Observing her run her hands over the surface, Peter believed she was searching for any wetness from the large load of cum the man had shot off. This was exactly what the young girl was doing, and finally Peter watched as she removes her clothes, stood nude in front of the mirrored wall and fingered her sex. He watched until she put on a shower cap, and stepped into the shower stall. Then, he waited. In a couple of minutes Yancy was dried off and putting her bra and panties back on. She left the room and returned with a dress and a pair of shoes. After fixing her hair and make up, Peter watched the attractive teenager fix her hair and make up, and slip on her dress and shoes. Then, turning off the light, she left her apartment, and drove off in her car. Driving to the DQ, Yancy thought of all that had happened with Randy at the store, restaurant and now in her own apartment. She tried to reason why she allowed Randy to be so intimate with her. "Never again, Randy, you will never get another chance to do to me what you did tonight. You almost raped me. God, what if he had raped me?" Yancy asked herself. "What if he had gone all the way up in me? What if I would have become pregnant? If dad knew what Randy had done, he would likely kill him." Before reaching the DQ, Yancy remembered how much she had enjoyed the sensations she felt when Randy slid his warm, viscous male juices up into her sex. "Will the minister see in my face how I have let a man touch me so intimately? Will I be punished for my sins...?" As she thought about it; Yancy shuddered at the sins she had both abhorred and seemed to desire. Arriving at the restaurant, Yancy walked inside and found her best friend, Loretta Parsons, seated with a couple of boys from school. She walked over, and joined them. "Hey, how's my new 'Miss Independent Girlfriend?' Loretta asked as she stood up and hugged her friend? "Great, I've got everything in place, but I have some minor things to complete when I have more money." Yancy added, "I sure wish I knew how to earn more money before I get my first check." Tony Mathews had graduated as runner up to Yancy's GPA, and was headed to Princeton. He took out his billfold, counted out $50, and asked, "Is that the going rate?" They all busted up, laughing and Yancy retorted, "Look cheapo, I give it away cheaper than that." For the next couple of hours they gabbed and laughed. As they were about to leave, Yancy asked, "Why don't you guys follow me, and see my new place?" "Sure, why not, and I'll ride with Yancy. Okay, guys?" Loretta asked. They arrived at Yancy's place and she asked them to not make a lot of noise as her neighbors were really nice but older. Inside her new apartment, the three friends were amazed at how nice the place looked, and Yancy felt so proud. Loretta told her, "Next Saturday, how about I spend the night with you?" "I'd love it, I can't wait for my first over night guest," Yancy exclaimed! "Heck, I can spend the night, tonight," Bill Dieble replied, laughing."Now, Bill, I would let you spend the night with me tonight, but I'd hate to be the one to take your virginity and then have you cry all night after we were done." "Yancy, I've been saving my tears for you all my life, so I'm ready to let them run down my face, just you rape away, you evil girl," Bill said as if he was sobbing. For the next couple of hours, the four friends enjoyed sitting around in Yancy's place, and when leaving, each gave her a hug and wished her the best. The next morning, Peter rose early and got out his supplies, inventorying what items and material he would need to purchase before painting Yancy. Having watched the action from the night before, he was a little concerned about how to ask the girl about doing her nude. Picking up his phone, he dialed the number Yancy had given him. "Hello," the sweet voice of the young girl said as she answered the phone. "Yes, Yancy, it's Peter. I hope I'm not calling you too early, as I know you young people like to stay out late and sleep even later." "No, I've been up since about seven, as I love to listen to the birds singing in the morning." Pausing for a moment, Yancy asked, "Do you still want to do my painting, and Peter, I promise not to be nervous, but give me time if I need it, deal?" "Certainly, and I must tell you, I'm likely as nervous as you, as I haven't seen such an attractive young woman as you in quite a while, but before we start, what say I take you with me for breakfast?" Then Peter added, "We can discuss the painting, and also I just finished looking through my materials and I will need to purchase items before I can paint you, so let's plan on doing the work two weeks from today." "That is nice, but you don't need to..." "No, no, I insist, Yancy. I'll drive around, and we can go eat." Over breakfast at the Cracker Barrel, they spoke about Peter's tour of duty in the Air Force and how, after he had completed his life in the seat of B-52, then a B-1-B, and finally a B-2, and had risen to the rank of two stars in short order, he decided to leave the service before he found his ass in Iraq on a mission he could not accept was necessary. When he listened to Yancy tell how she was going to college and would also be working, he was impressed when he learned about her high GPA. For the next two weeks, he trained his telescope on the lovely teenager as she had gotten into the habit of sleeping on the chaise lounge in the bathroom. As he watched, Peter could not get over how beautiful and shapely Yancy was. A week earlier, he had observed another girl, nude in the bathroom. She was also attractive, but her breasts seemed overly large for her slender body. Now it was again Saturday morning, and Peter had invited Yancy to have breakfast with him at the local Denny's. During the meal, they discussed doing the painting, and Yancy told Peter, "I hope you're not disappointed when you see me nude, as I'm not the most attractive little fish in the ocean." Returning to Yancy's home, he dropped her off, and after driving home, walked back to her house. Inside, he showed her the material and let her undress in the bathroom. When she told him she was ready, he went in and saw her standing by the chaise lounge. Yancy had the fabric draped across her shoulders, hanging loose around her neck and down across her breasts. Her pubic area was uncovered, and she wasn't holding the material close to her furry triangle. "We'll need three or four of those pillows you have in the other room for you to rest on," Peter had said, in a voice he knew betrayed his male desires toward the nearly nude young girl. After Yancy had obtained the pillows, he asked her to lie on her side, with one leg drawn back and bent at the knee. This allowed just a mere hint of her sex to be displayed, but not so much to be obscene. He noticed her breasts were pointed and jutted out from her chest like two sharp cones, then flowed into narrow cylinders that tapered off with evenly pointed nipples. Peter thought how these were the most unique breasts and nipples he had ever observed, more so than any he had ever seen. "Bring your shoulders back a little. This pose will allow your breasts to stretch and emphasize their pointy shape, just like you saw in the pixie paintings." As the girl moved, he saw just the image he wanted and said, "Hold that pose, Yancy." Using a soft pencil, he soon had an outline of how he wanted the painting to look, and for the next three hours, he sketched and painted until he had the basic outline of her portrait completed. Finally, Yancy was allowed to stand and stretch her sore muscles. Having been in the same position for nearly three hours, Yancy had allowed the material to slip from her body, and it fell onto the chaise. Bending and stretching her arms up over her head, and spreading her legs and standing on one foot, while pulling her opposite leg up behind her, as if she was stretching from jogging, the teenage girl knew her body was frankly on display more than when she was posing. Thinking to herself, Yancy thought how she had enjoyed her brother Martin viewing her nude at the creek, and even when Randy had undressed her, she had enjoyed the fact her body was uncovered. Now she wished that Peter would lay down the things he was painting her with and take her in his arms. This time, Yancy told herself, "I would not stop Peter from entering my body as I did Randy. What can I do? I want to feel a man enter my body." Finally, Yancy lay back on the chaise and pulled her legs so they were open, and her sex was on display. The image wasn't lost on Peter, and he knew the girl was displaying her sex to him. "Do I dare try to take her, perhaps if I paint her as she lies, as she is...?" "Yancy, may I paint you as you're laying now? In fact, I have my camera, if you don't mind. I could photograph you and paint from the photos. Is that alright with you? You're lovely." "Yes, do whatever you want. I won't stop you; just do anything you desire, Peter..." Yancy said in a direct invitation to the older man. Taking his digital camera from his painting work box, Peter was soon snapping one image after the other of the girl. He had her stand and bend over, as he photographed her breasts, hanging down. He caught the roll of her hips as she was bent over. Unknown to her, Peter captured the puckered pink muscle of her sphincter, for his own pleasure. Turning on her back, Yancy felt a heated flush pass across her body. She looked at the older man and, in a hoarse whisper, said, "Peter, undress, lie next to me... I... oh..." With her eyes focused on the man in front of her, she watched as Peter undressed and saw he was larger between his legs than Randy. Yet the knowledge of what such a large cock could do to her did not cross her mind. "Peter, you will be my first. You believe me? Peter, I'm afraid..." He had allowed his computer to run, and knew everything about to happen with this precocious teen would be documented for savoring later. Peter moved quickly to the chaise lounge, but stopped long enough to pick up a couple of towels. Having the girl raise up her hips, Peter slid the towel under her body, and wasting no time for preliminaries, moved between the smooth legs of the 18-year-old girl and aligned his cock head with her slightly parted labia. "You're certain you want this, Yancy? My God, this is such an honor..." Moving the end of his cock up and down between the lips of Yancy's narrow labia, he found the wide and thick head of his erection was not able to easily enter the young sex. After a few minutes of finger spreading her lubrication and his oozing precum, he felt the large bulk of his cock head slip into the young pussy. "Um... um... eeeyieee... oh... Peter, be easy, oh my god...noooo, ohhhh, nooooo... Peter, god it hurts... wait... wait!" Yancy cried out from the pain as she was taken for her first time. The sensations of the large thing being rubbed back and forth and lightly in and out of her sex had been exceptionally pleasing. Then she felt a burning and tearing between the lips of her sex, as her hymen gave way with a deep penetration of her body. Yancy knew she had just been changed from a virgin to what her minister called a "wanton woman" and she had not been ready for the sudden pain. Her pleas and tears were not wasted on Peter. He had recognized he needed to take her quickly and with as much strength as he could muster when he shoved all the way into this young virgin. "Yancy, I hope you can hold on, as it will only get better now, tell me..." "Peter, I know you just did me, and oh god, it hurts, not so deep... aughhhh, oh Peter, you're so deep... we're fuc... fuck... fucking... aren't we...?" "Yes, and hold on, I want to make it good for you," and slowly Peter was moving his cock in and back out of the young sex. Each time he shoved into the girl, Peter ensured that he rubbed his pubic bone against her prepuce and made small bumping moves against the clitoris that seemed to have doubled in size. "Yancy, oh hell! I'm coming, yeah! Oh damn... it is so fucking good, aughhhh!! Yancy..., take my come..." "No, don't take it out... stay in me... please, Peter, keep it up me... you were my first... oh Peter, I love you... P E T E R, what is happening...?" Peter's was in her, up to the hilt, as he rolled back and forth against her mons, he squeezed her clit, and caused her to climax. For at least ten minutes, the two lovers, the teen girl and older male, lay joined at their sexual parts. Peter pulled the young girl's legs up so they rested on his shoulders. Then he was once more moving his erection in and out of her sore and bleeding sex.Still, to Yancy, she did not want the man to move from her body, even with the pain she was feeling from having taken a male for her first time. "He is larger than my brother and even Randy. Randy, why couldn't you have been as nice as Peter?" Yancy asked herself. Then she hugged Peter around his neck and cried, "French kiss me, please Peter, we haven't even kissed and you have my virginity. Peter, I love you. I will always love you Peter. Believe me, I..." After several minutes, they rose from the chaise lounge, and as they stood, Yancy saw the evidence of her lost virginity on her and Peter, and also on the towel on the chaise. "I'm a mess, and it is your fault, you dirty old man. You know something, I love you, even if you are a dirty old man. Are you happy, Peter? Did I do what I was supposed?" "Happy isn't the word, try ecstatic. Happy is minor to how you have made me feel. I can assure you, I'm on cloud nine," Smiling at the young girl, he told Yancy, "You're a delightful woman, even if you are only a teen." "Peter, after what we just did, can we not paint any more today? I need to clean up, and I'm hungry. Can we go eat?" That evening, Yancy was watching television and thinking of what she had done, and how she'd asked an older man to have sex with her; when the phone rang. "Yancy, it's Martin. What say, I come over and take you to the DQ or wherever, and keep you company? Actually, you keep me company, as dad and mom took off with the kids this morning and went to the water slide park." "Sure, but how about you pick up a pizza and we will just stay home in my new place and watch a movie on TV?" They sat around watching the old movie channel, and around eleven, Martin said it was time for him to head home. "Why don't you stay here tonight, no one is at home, so you can keep me company, and I will cook breakfast for us in the morning?" "I guess I can crash on the floor, if you don't mind?" "No way, you can sleep in bed with me. Remember when we were little, and we slept together?" As she giggled, Yancy said, "You always wanted me to hold your peewee." "Yancy, my god!" Martin said in complete surprise to his sister's comment. After another half hour, Yancy undressed in front of her brother, and she remembered when they were nude at the creek. "Get undressed, and do me a favor, turn off all the lights, but please, light the candles on the stove. Please, Martin?" In the dark, they lay nude together on Yancy's sofa bed. She moved her body against her brother's. For a few minutes, neither said anything. Then, Yancy moved her hand down, as if by accident, and allowed it to brush across her brother's erection. "Oh, Martin, would you like to touch me, I want to, you...! Oh, my, Martin, you're making me feel good," she moaned breathlessly, as Martin was moving his fingers in and out of her pussy, and all around her clit. "Yancy, I better leave. You're making me want to..." "Martin, make love to me, be gentle! You will be my first! Martin, ohhhh, that...! Go in easy,... it hurts. Oh... my brother..." She played out the part of being a virgin, remembering what had happened between her and Peter only that morning. Martin later told his sister, "I'm happy and appreciated being your first Yancy. But, what made you want sex?" "Just having my own place... and the 'cock' someone hung in my kitchen. I understood just what the plaque meant." Thinking about Melea's comments about how big her brother was between his legs, she thought, "He doesn't compare to Peter, or even Randy." But she felt good from the sex her brother gave her twice that night, and once more the next morning. After they drove to the Cracker Barrel, and enjoyed breakfast, they returned home, and decided to head to the farm and swim in the pond behind the dam in the creek. They swam for a while, then they had moved onto the creek bank where Martin tongued their mutual fluids out of her pussy. Her first experience with oral sex made her climax yet again. She returned his favor with a blow job, and tasted his salty, male cum. "Another first for today," she thought as they drove back to her place. After her brother drove off, she undressed and got ready for a shower. Under the spray of the water, Yancy didn't hear Randy Prather unlock and open the sliding door of the bathroom. He quickly undressed and pulled open the shower door. "Randy, what in the hell are you doing? Get out of my house! No! Don't touch me!!! If you don't leave, now, I will tell my dad you tried to rape me, and ... no!" Yancy cried out as Randy grabbed her and squeezed himself against her body; all the while, kneading her breasts and tangling his fingers in her pubic hair. Peter, was spying with his scope, and had seen the whole thing. It was obvious to him that Yancy was fighting to stop the man from molesting her. Picking up his 10 mm, Peter ran from his home, down the small hill, to Yancy's bathroom in a matter of seconds. The sliding door was open, and he heard Yancy cry out, "No Randy... no, don't rape me, I won't have sex with youuuu... stopppp. Help meeee. Someone, help meeee!" Moving quickly to the open shower, he saw the two struggling: the girl to stop the sexual assault, and the older and much stronger male attempting and ready to take the screaming and frightened girl from the shower and rape her. Quickly, as he had been trained those many years before in jungle survivor training as a pilot, Peter shoved the 10 mm barrel into the man's crotch; and with only a firm and soft voice, said, "Don't even move a muscle or I will shoot your dick off." Immediately the man stopped in his tracks, as she sobbed, "Mr. Masters, thank you. Oh my God. He was going to rape Me." "Get that gun off me. Who, in the hell, do you think you are? She invited me into her shower..." "Shut up or I'll blow your balls off! The police will believe me, not you, you fucking asshole. I saw you enter the house as I was working in my garden." Peter had seen the girl struggle with the man a few weeks before. He quickly doubled up his fist, striking the man in the stomach about an inch above his manhood. The whoosh of air from his mouth was loud and like the sounded like the engine of a race car. Randy fell forward and landed on his side after the hard driving fist had done its damage. She then kicked him in his groin. As he cried out in pain, she told him, "I'm telling my father about you. If you ever come to my house again, I'll kill you, if Mr. Masters doesn't do so first." When Randy managed to stand up, Peter placed the police special once more against Randy's cock, and told him, "Grab your clothes, run out that door and get the hell away from here, if you..." Randy interrupted, "Can I get dressed first? Someone might see me." "Leave now, or I will blow your cock and balls off," Peter said, as he shoved the weapon tightly against Randy's shriveled manhood. Randy grabbed his clothes from the chaise lounge and took off out the door. Yancy was still in tears when she heard someone ask, "What... what is going on?... Oh my, Peter, you have a gun. The man who owns the furniture store in Dayton, he was running out of here with nothing on." Margaret Bronson asked the crying, nude teenager, "Miss Yancy, are you alright? And what is going on in here?" Grabbing a towel, Peter handed it to Yancy, saying, "Here, cover yourself with this. You should be okay now." Looking at Margaret, the attractive man mustered all of his military imprimatur and said with authority, "What say we go to my place and leave this young girl to get herself back together?" As they left her place, he spoke softly, "Yancy, come on over when you're dressed, and join Margaret and me for some tea." Then, he walked away with his attractive older neighbor to his own home. Once inside, he made small talk with Margaret, and realized this was the first time he'd ever seen her in shorts and an abbreviated halter style top. "Margaret, you're very attractive, and you look absolutely fantastic in that outfit. I hope you wore it just for me," Peter said with a smile that he meant to erase the previous scene at Yancy's home. "Come on into the kitchen and join me and help fix the tea." "Peter, what the hell was going on at the girl's place? What was Prather doing running from the apartment in the nude? Hell, what were you doing? You had a gun... I..." "Margaret, I had started over to see you when I noticed the man moving toward the back of Yancy's place and open the sliding door leading into her bathroom, which I knew she never locked." Pausing for a moment, and knowing how to impact a comment to change a line of someone's thinking, Peter, added, "I went back into my house, retrieved my gun from the kitchen drawer where I keep it, and walked over to see what was happening." "You saw the man enter..." "Yes," Peter said quickly before Margaret could finish her question, "And I hurried over. I heard Yancy crying out that she didn't want to be raped. I opened the door, and entered the room. The shower door was open and he was in the shower with the young girl." "Oh, how frightful for the poor little girl. It must have been awful for her," Margaret exclaimed. "That is certain." "I jammed my revolver into his balls and threatened to blow them off if he didn't get his clothes and run from the girl's house and to never return." Smiling, Peter added, "Guess he believed me. By the way, did you like the size of his tool?" "PETER, how can you make light of such a thing? It was big, wasn't it? But did either of you call the police?" "No, Yancy didn't want to. Her father does the man's accounting." "Peter, do you really find me attractive.""Don't make fun of me for asking, but for some reason I keep feeling I'm getting old and missing out on a lot. You know what I mean. I have no true marriage anymore." "Margaret, you are absolutely stunning, and I understand what you're saying as I... feel the same..." "Hello, am I intruding?" Yancy asked as she'd heard the last two comments, and knew that both were discussing the personal lives. Having also put on a pair of white shorts and a tank top, Yancy looked to be a younger double of her neighbor. "I like your choice of clothes, wish I could find some like yours, Margaret." This caused the three of them to laugh, and Peter said, "I was just offering Margaret her choice of tea, so let me hear your thoughts as well, Miss Yancy." Holding up three containers, he continued, "I have Darjeeling, English Breakfast and Assam teas to tickle your palates, so which will you like? Or, I'll make all three, and we can share." Laughing, Peter added, "I've never had a threesome, but with you twins, I'm ready..." "You dirty old man, you couldn't take care of one of us hot chicks, let alone the two of us," Margaret laughed in reply. "A threesome, before I've had a twosome... What am I missing?" Yancy laughed as she hugged Peter, and looked in his eyes, "Guess I owe you for saving me a little while ago. My God, thank you. So, I guess you and I can be my twosome, and Margaret can tell me what to do." Busting up, and looking at the young girl, Margaret understood she was attempting to take away the pain from the assault she had suffered, and told Yancy, "Be careful, that 'old man' is likely still able to drop bombs like he did in the Air Force." "Peter, let's all make tea. Each of us will make our own, and I will make my favorite kind, the English breakfast. I enjoy its slightly bitter taste," Yancy said while still laughing. "Tell me, Peter, did you really drop bombs, what all did you do in the service? My dad never talks about his time in Desert Storm." They enjoyed the three varieties of tea, and Yancy could not get enough of Peter telling about flying the big plane, a B-52 over Vietnam. When Peter got out his photos from his time in the service, Yancy was amazed at what all the man had done, and she loved the photograph of him with the B-52. Looking at the attractive older man, Yancy commented, "You're a hero, and if you want, someday I would like to hear all about the war, and what it was like to have someone shooting at you." For the next couple of hours, they enjoyed each other's company, then Peter said, "How about we go eat, and I will treat, deal?" Returning home after dinner, Peter stopped and dropped the women off, then drove home. When he walked in the house, his phone was ringing. It was Margaret, who asked if he would take her out for a drink later this evening... "I need to just get out of the house, and I have a health care worker coming over for the evening." After picking Margaret up at 7:30 that evening, Peter drove to a small Italian restaurant, and they enjoyed the meal together, then drove to a small and intimate bar about two blocks from where they lived. In the lounge, they took a booth in the rear of the room and enjoyed their cocktails while speaking of a myriad of items. At 10:00, Margaret looked across the table at Peter and spoke softly, telling him, "Please, say nothing. Don't make any reply. But if you want, take me to your house and lead me to your bedroom. I need to be home by 11:30... No, say nothing, at least, not yet." Standing up, Peter walked to the opposite side of the booth, held his hand out to Margaret and helped her to her feet. Then he walked with her out of the lounge and to where his car was parked, and opened the door so the attractive-looking woman could be seated. Getting into his car, Peter drove to his home and pulled into the garage, then helped Margaret into his home, and led her to his bedroom. Margaret said nothing but simply kicked off her shoes, unfastened her dress, and let it drop to the floor around her feet. Pulling down her pantyhose, and then removing her bra, the 45-year-old woman was standing before the fourth man to ever see her, nude.After graduating college, she was on a trip to Key West along with some friends. They had been walking away from a bar when three men stopped and asked if they would enjoy having a drink with them. Margaret was the only one who said yes to the handsomest of the three. He took her arm and escorted her into a nearby cocktail lounge, while her friends and the other two men went their separate ways. He became the next man to see her nude. The interior of the place was dark and tasteless. They found a table in the back, and Margaret soon enjoyed conversing with the man. To her surprise, she told him, "You look like someone I know, but I can't place who you are." They had a second drink, and the man asked, "What would it take to get you to my hotel room? Not to insult you with the question, but I'd like to make love with you?" "Why don't you tell me...? I think..." "Would $1,000 be enough? No, make it what you want," the man said in a halting voice. Unable to determine, Margaret thought about her old boss and said, without any real meaning, "You're about four of those short. If that answers your question." "Wow, that is steep..." "Perhaps, but believe it or not... I'm still a virgin!" "You're kidding, aren't you? No, you're being honest. I can see it in your face. Okay, but if you're not, I don't owe you even a dime. Deal?" Knowing she was having her period and that this guy seemed so innocent, he won't know the difference. In the hotel room and observing the man undress, Margaret could not believe how the man seemed to be twice the size of Dexter, and was slightly fearful in viewing the large male organ. Margaret was coy and had the man turn the lights off before she would take off her panties. Once they were in the dark, Margaret pulled her tampon out, walked to the bathroom, and flushed it down. She then swabbed between her legs to remove any evidence of her menses. In the bed, Margaret did an Academy Award-worthy performance as a virgin being deflowered. The man believed her, and as he sank into her depths, she cried out, "Oh my god, you're killing me, you're too big! Stop for a minute." He convinced Margaret to let him enjoy her two more times, besides the first time, after supposedly taking her cherry. She climaxed on both the second and third times. When she got up from the bed, Margaret turned on the light so the man could see the blood on him, her, and all over the sheets. She had wiggled and smeared blood and tried to get away from his "big thing," which Margaret figured was no more than five inches long. Margaret took a shower, then, as the man did, she searched in his pockets and found a gold business card case. Opening it, she discovered the man was someone she did know, or at least from television. Hell, he's that preacher from California, Rev. Fuchs-a-lot, hey! Margaret undressed and stepped into the shower with the good Reverend. They dried off, and she led him by his stumpy cock back to the bed and had him back inside her in record time. By the time the TV minister had gotten off, Margaret had climaxed twice. She walked out of the hotel room with the $5,000, plus his gold card case of business cards. Her husband saw the case and cards one day and asked how she happened to have them. She just said, "I found them on the street and had kept them as a memento of my trip to Key West."After closing the door, Yancy hugged her father and said, "About time you came to visit me, it has been almost two weeks. Sit down, daddy. Would you like a coffee or a coke? Sorry, I don't have any beer." "Coffee would be fine. And... Yancy, you're something else in that outfit. I guess I'd better leave, as it looks like you're ready for bed, or have some special company coming over," Robert, laughing and teasing, said to his pretty daughter. "Sorry, daddy, let me put the bed up so you can be comfortable. Besides, I dressed like this when I found out you were coming over tonight. Did I entice my handsome man?" They enjoyed coffee, then Yancy and Robert had somehow ended up lying down on the bed. Her parents had never been shy about being open in their affections around their children, but had never crossed the line. Now Robert was looking at his daughter's pouty, pink, nipples point tenting the fabric of her nightie. He could even see the darkness of her pubic hair, and, at times, the slit between her vulva. Lying with her father gave Yancy a real turn-on. It had been nearly a week since she and Peter had been intimate. But, he had gone to a reunion of his old military unit. How or why she took her father's hand and placed it on her breast, she didn't know or even understand until she heard her father say, "Honey, do you realize you've moved my hand to your breasts. It's nice, but I think I should stop. Don't you?" "Oh... daddy... I didn't know I had done... Keep it there, please... It's not wrong, is it..." "Yancy, our being this close and you being dressed like this is the most taboo thing between a father and his daughter that can happen." Instead of his daughter pulling his hand away, she squeezed it tightly against her breast. It was only then that Robert saw the painting on the wall. The image of her laying on the chaise lounge in the bathroom against the mirrored wall was beautiful. She was lying on her side, with her shoulders more or less flat against the pillows. Her pointed breasts were lifted upward, and the dark triangle of pubic hair was a thick wedge shape across her lower body and between her legs, as one was somewhat crossed over the other. He could see the roundness of her buttocks, reflected in the mirrored tile. They were like perfect, round balls, tight and firm. The crease where they met her legs showed how attractive her ass was for any man to see. "Yancy, my god, the painting is beautiful. When did you pose for that? You're beautiful! My god, I can't believe how stunning you look, and are. I should leave." "No, do you like the painting? I had someone paint it for me," Yancy told how she had seen the three elf paintings in the bathroom, and had met the man who painted them, as he lived behind her on the hill. "Some man saw you nude??? Yancy, you..." "Dear father, he is a perfect older gentleman, and paints. He is good, isn't he? No, he never touched me or tried to have sex with me," Yancy lied. Suddenly Yancy felt her father pressing his pelvic area against her hips. She could feel his erection through his slacks, as she squeezed his hand tighter to her breast, and then moved it to the other one, but in doing so, slipped it under the top of her nightie. Yancy was totally aroused as she turned and faced her father. As she did so, guided his other hand between her legs, and whispered, "Daddy, touch me, be my first." Once more Yancy was at the very end of her cycle and she knew there would be enough blood to allow her father to believe he was her first, the same as she had done with Martin, her brother. "Yancy, we... can't, it isn't... it isn't right..." "Daddy, say nothing else... okay..." Moving from the sofa bed, Yancy stood up and pulled the sleeping garment over her head and tossed it onto the chair across the room. "Daddy, undress. Even if we just hold each other, I want to feel you, and know what a man's thing is like. Please, no, daddy, don't leave." Robert looked at his daughter, and knew he should leave. But he was unable to stop undressing. Naked, he moved to his daughter and they stood holding each other tightly. His lips were soon nursing at his daughter's peaked nipples, as he moved her onto the sofa bed, his hands were stroking her stomach, thighs and then the hair over her mons. "Put your thing in the edge of mine... just in the edge, Let me at least feel that much. Ohhhhh! Daddy, I feel... Not so deep, Wait a little... just move it in the edge like that. Daddy, it hurts. No, don't pull away. I want you to..." Yancy cried out in mock surrender of her virginity, "Daddy!!!!!" Easy, oh daddy... not so deeppppp, You're in me all the way. Noooo... What is going to happen? I feel so funny... Aughhhh, yessss. Daddy, did you make me do it. Ohhhh, yessss, that feels so good, daddy... daddy... you got me off. Yessss, you're my first!!!" After seeing the slight amount of blood on his shrinking cock and the red color mixed in with his semen as it ran out from his daughter's sex, Robert cried out in frustration. "Daddy, don't cry... I wanted it even more than you... you were my first... I feel so good... did... did... did you make me come... is that what I did... it felt so good... did you squirt your stuff in me... did you dear daddy?" After a breather, daughter once more lead her father's manhood to the edge of her sex. She asked him to be gentle was once again ridden. She climaxed several times before her father unloaded his male juices deep up in her belly. They were enjoying another cup of coffee when the phone rang. "Oh, hi, mom... yes, daddy is sitting here with me drinking a cup of coffee, I might let him speak with you, but I gave him heck for not having come over for two weeks or more. When are you coming over? Okay, here is daddy." After speaking with his wife for a few minutes, he was once more back between his daughter's thighs. As he rode her succulent body, he recalled his wife's question, "Did you get her cherry, and how many times?" After he had taken Yancy the third time, he said he needed to shower before going home to her mother, and hoped she would never know what they had done tonight. "Yancy, you don't hate me, do you?" "Daddy, how could I hate you after what we shared. You're really big, aren't you?" Over the next couple of months, Yancy was with Peter three or so times a week, her brother Martin, and her father each had enjoyed her a couple of times. Finally, school was out once more, and Yancy was extremely happy with her life, as all her sexual urges were being satisfied. In fact, she even had allowed herself to be taken by Dr. Fuller. But when he asked her to be with him the second time, she explained she felt like she was a bad person for "making him" cheat on his wife. Dr. Fuller was satisfied with her response, but she did promise that if she went to the medical seminar in late August, she might not be as reluctant, as they would be out of town. One Friday afternoon Yancy's mother called her at work and asked if she would like to have dinner with her after she got off work. Yancy was happy to be invited by her mother, and it was agreed that Mona would meet her at her apartment around 7:00 that evening. Knowing each time her husband had been sexual with their daughter, Mona decided to see if her daughter would be receptive to having an evening with them at the swingers club they belonged to. Mona wondered what Yancy would say when she broached the subject. She still hadn't decided whether to confront her with the fact that she was aware she and her father had sex together before asking about swinging, or wait and see what she said about going to the club. Over dinner, Mona informed Yancy that she was going to have Peter Masters' paint her for an anniversary present for her father. "Yancy, what was it like to be nude in front of the man, especially as you were a virgin then, did it bother you, did he touch you. Be honest. I feel so strange knowing he will see me nude. Your father wants my legs somewhat open, you understand. In fact, I'm supposed to ask if you would like to have a painting of the two of us done for Robert." Yancy was somewhat taken back by her mother's innocent comment of "... as you were a virgin then.. Does mom know I'm having sex, and even with daddy? Did he tell mom... about?" The conversation drifted away from sex, and Yancy's virginity when Mona asked, "Yancy, your father and I would like for you to accompany us to a private club we belong to. Would you be interested in going with us tomorrow night?" "What kind of club is it, mom?" "A swingers club, you know where you change partners, and have sexual relations with someone other than your spouse. Am I shocking you, honey?" "Mom, you and dad, you're swingers! How long have you been doing this? Are you for real? You're asking me to go??? I'd be watching my parents have sex. Mom, are you serious?" Yancy asked as she sat in disbelief in hearing her mother admit to having sex with someone other than her husband... her father. "We've been swingers since you were first born. Does this shock you?" "Mom, I know you're serious and I can see your not uncomfortable in informing me. But, what about dad? He might get really mad if he knew you asked me to..." "Yancy, it was my idea your father take your virginity. Yes, the two of us planned it. In fact, we thought of it when we first watched you swim nude with us. Remember the times the three of us swam nude; from the time between starting your senior year of school..." "Mom, you knew dad and I had... that we,... he, and I had... sex... and he was my first. Mom!!! I don't know what to say!" "Yes, your father and I hope... and Yancy,... I knew each time the two of you had sex. Don't you recall? I always called."And the first time when you two did it, I called and he had done you twice and then once more that evening. So, are you willing?" "Mom, how many guys will I have to be with? Will dad be one of them? I guess, mom, you let other men?" "Yes, and the more I can the more I will. You can do it with only those you want, but at first we will likely go in the pitch-black room." "What is that...?" "It's a room that you enter and there is no light, none. As you enter through one door into a small hallway, then through another door. It is completely dark. You never know who it will be with. After an hour or two in that room, we will go into the bar and lounge." "Do people know you, will they know who I am?" "Yes, and you will know them and perhaps a couple of your friends will be there. Tomorrow night brings a new guest, or son, or daughter, night." Smiling at her daughter, Mona loved the look of wonderment that was on Yancy's face, and told her, "I won't tell you who belongs, but if you go you must never divulge who the members of the club are." "Okay, but are there girls my age at the club?" Yancy asked. Then she told Yancy, "One thing you'll like is that if you say 'no' it means 'no,' and no one will force you to participate if you don't wish to do so." Saturday evening at 7:30, Yancy got into the car with her parents, and she was nervous, and was surprised when her mother had her sit with her father in the front seat, while she sat in the back. She wore a pair of white shorts with a checkered printed blue and white button-up blouse, and had not worn her bra, but had worn a white thong panty. Her shoes were two-inch mules. Mona had dressed in a pair of yellow club shorts with a flowered shell top and mules, also. During the drive, Yancy could not help but gasp when her father asked, "Do I get to be the first with you tonight, or are you planning on just watching?" "Mom, did you hear what your husband asked me? Maybe, we should just go back to my place and both of us wear him out. Daddy, you should be ashamed." Reaching the building where the party was being held was nearly an hour's drive, and Yancy had never seen the building previously. The property was located in a wooded area, and it was still light enough for her to enjoy the drive from home to the club building. There were several cars, pickup trucks, vans of all types and even three RV units. Yancy did not count the vehicles, but guessed that there were at least forty or fifty vehicles in the lot, and was surprised when her father said, "Guess there are still several more to show up tonight." "How, many couples or people will show up tonight, and mom, where do we undress? I don't want people watching me." "There is a locker room, and will have two or three people staffing the lockers. They will give you a towel, and a lock, so you can leave your purse in the locker." Mona looked at her daughter, and noted a small quiver to the corner of her lip, and asked, "Did you bring the small pouch with perfume, lipstick and deodorant with you? Remember, you can shower whenever you wish." Entering the room, and not seen by Yancy, was Randy Prather, and he could not believe his friends who he had swung with for several years were arriving with their daughter. Randy knew one thing and that was to be sure he was the first with Yancy this evening, and he knew how to ensure that he would be the first to unload his cum into her body. Just inside the first set of doors was a set back, and no one could see anyone standing there as they entered the chamber leading to the dark room. It was the custom to always bring a new member to the dark room first so they did not worry about who they were with when first starting to swing. Watching his friends and daughter go to the lockers, Randy got up from the chair where he was seated and carried his towel with him to the dark room entrance. Stepping inside the room, he knew it would likely be another five minutes before his chance to be with Yancy was to happen. Yancy was a little embarrassed as she undressed in front of her parents, but then thought nothing more about it as she watched her mother reach out and tug at her husband's half-hard manhood. "Like seeing your two favorite women in the nude, do you Robert?" Entering the dark room, Yancy said nothing as the door closed, and she had entered last, and when she felt who she thought was her father reach out and take her hand, made no comment. Yancy had been told by her parents to not call them her dad and mom, and if she didn't wish to use her own name, she could make up a name for the evening or simply not use one, but never give out your name in the dark room. Feeling the hand lead her through the second door and finding herself being helped to lie down on the wall-to-wall mattress in the dark room, Yancy could not help but shudder hearing the sounds of passions, and she wondered how many people were in the room, as it sounded like 30 or more. Once she was on the mattress, Yancy found she was being kissed and she knew it wasn't her father, as the man who was kissing her had a mustache. Her hands were soon holding onto the man's head as he was nursing at her breasts, and his mouth was soon giving her oral pleasures that caused her to cry out, "I'm going to cum... ohhhhh, lick me like that... I'm cumming... aughhhh!" Within moments, the man was over her body and placing the thick head of his cock to the entrance of her pussy, and he moved it up and down for a few minutes, and then he was entering her in a tremendous shove, and it was nearly brutal. Yancy had never been entered so suddenly and hard on the initial entry, and she cried out, "My god... be easy... not so hard... oh hell you're killing me...umh... ohhhhh... you're thick." As she shouted out her pleas to be taken, but not so hard, Yancy felt the man jam his erection deep up into her body and she knew that he was giving her his cum. The man lay on her for some time, then began to make movements to make himself hard once more. It was at least 10 minutes before the man was again hard, and started fucking the teenager once more. This time Yancy was prepared and she hugged and pulled the man into her body with her hands, arms, and legs. "I'm cumming with you... give me your cum, yes, cum in me... now... oh hell you're deep," Yancy cried out. Just before he pulled his shrinking cock from Yancy's pussy, Randy whispered, "Thanks, Yancy, you're a great fuck!" No, Yancy thought, that can't have been Randy... no way, yet for some reason his voice sounded like the man who had assaulted her and tried to rape her twice. Thinking it was only her imagination, Yancy was soon being caressed by someone else, and at the same time a mouth was nursing at her breasts. When a stranger's hard erection was being pushed up into her body, a mouth was sucking her breasts, and Yancy knew it was the mouth of a woman. Unknown to Randy, and more importantly to Yancy, the first two loads of male semen with billions of sperm were attacking into her uterus. One of Randy's swimmers, searched out a suitable egg, and united with its nucleus. The fertilized egg would divide, and, in nine months would produce identical twins for Yancy. For another two hours, Yancy had sex with many different men, and she did not know if one was her father. Finally, she knew she needed a break and on her own crawled over to where the small blue light indicated where the door knobs were located, and she left the black room, and then the entry and headed for the shower. After showering she took a clean towel with her and headed back to where the bar and cocktail lounge was located. Arriving at the bar, Yancy saw her parents and they were seated with Randy Prather. "My god, it was Randy... noooo... my first time to swing and it was with the man who attempted to rape me... not once but twice," Yancy said to herself. "You must have been having a good time, as we have been out of the black room for at least an hour," Mona said. "So, what do you think," Yancy heard her father ask, and then he smiled and asked if she would like to see one of the private rooms? Not knowing what they were, Yancy said yes, and as she and her father were leaving, she listened as her dad asked, "Want to come along Randy, may we can work up a double?" Yancy wanted to say no, but when she was led into one of the private rooms, she saw it was decorated up like an old-time bedroom. Above the bed was an advertisement print of an art show, and the figure was representing a prostitute and the name of the artist was Zoë something, which she couldn't make out. Within moments the Yancy was being made love to by her father, who suddenly moved from her body and told her, "Sit down over Randy and take him, and then I will take you from the back." No sooner was she straddling the thick cock and Randy, which she decided she might just as well enjoy after all that had happened, and then she felt her father trying to enter her butt. It took several minutes, but before long, she was being taken in both her pussy and butt. Yancy was soon crying out her passion, and begging the two men to fuck her. "Yes, oh hell... Randy I want your cock... yes... daddy take my ass... oh god I feel so full... I feel like I'm being split in half... god... fuck me... oh fuck me... deeper oh deeper in my ass... oh my god... I'm cumming... now!" After a few more minutes, Robert pulled his cock from his daughter's ass and had her moved over and takes his cock in her pussy, and then Randy was driving his thick cock up into her bowels. For another ten minutes, Yancy cried out her feelings of being fucked in both her ass and pussy and begged them to fuck her all night.Unknown to Yancy, Randy reached over and turned a switch that changed the sign by the door from IN USE to MALES WANTED. Before the night was over, the several males who had not come as a partner to a female had unleashed their loads of semen into Yancy's mouth, pussy, and ass. No one kept an actual count, but Yancy had known from her attempt at counting how many men had used her that it was at least 42. Counting the ones in the dark room, Yancy knew that she had been fucked at least 50 times. Around 5:00 in the morning, Yancy fell asleep on the bed, and she knew that a woman was going down on her. As she opened her eyes, she believed it was her mother, but she was so tired her eyes did not focus properly. When Yancy finally woke up on Sunday, it was noon. Looking in the mirror as she stood by the bed, Yancy could see she was a mess. Her body was covered with cum, and she knew she wanted a hot shower. Leaving the room, she walked back down the hallway that had gotten her to the room from the bar the previous night, and soon was in the bar and lounge. When she entered the room, the crowd all clapped their hands, whistled, and shouted out in greeting, asking how many more she wanted after lunch? "If anyone tries to fuck me, he better have a doctor handy, as I will likely cut his dick off," Yancy laughed as she headed to the showers, with her mother behind her. "Did you enjoy yourself, honey? Would you want to come in here again with us, or you can join on your own?" Norma asked. After showering with her daughter and washing her body for her, Norma and Yancy applied makeup and headed back to the lounge to enjoy dinner. Eating a large steak with Texas fries and corn on the cob, and drinking two cups of tea, Yancy was finally relaxed. When a tall and prematurely graying man walked over and sat on the sofa with Yancy, she was struck with him immediately. Glancing downward, Yancy could see he was large and even had a cock bigger than Peter's. For several minutes, they spoke, and how she came to be under him on the sofa, Yancy wasn't certain, but within moments, she was pleading for the man not to take her... not hard... "God, I'm so fucking sore... my pussy feels raw... oh my god, you're huge... easy... oh shit... you're too fucking big... aughhh, easy, ohhhhh... fuck me... yessss, Aughhhhh...I'm cumming!!!" Yancy looked up once and found everyone was crowded around where she was being taken on the sofa, and she fell into the tempo of the fucking she was getting and the mood of the crowd. Her cries of passion were loud, and she finally shouted out once again, and this time over and over, "Fuck me, fuck me... my god... fuck me!" Finally, Yancy was once more seated on the sofa, and her body felt like a sledgehammer had pounded her insides. Then she smiled at the man as he handed her a cigarette and his lighter, and looking at the engraving on the lighter, could not believe what she was reading. "Your... god, I love your music... and your instrument now... are you really... for real you're..." Yancy lay back on the sofa, and looking up at the handsome singer, told him and everyone else could hear her, "Fuck me... I want you to fuck me once more..., please." Before leaving the club that evening, Yancy had taken ten more men. As they were walking to the car, Yancy asked her mother, "Mom, how many did you do... if you want to tell me... I did at least 50 last night and a dozen or so today?" "You hold the record on the number of men or women you took, my little daughter, and from what your father and I were told, you actually had 72 in total." Smiling at her daughter, Norma told her, "I had 11, and one of them was you..." Three months later, when it was discovered that Yancy was pregnant, she was told she had twins inside her, but her parents said if she wanted an abortion, it would be alright. Instead, Yancy asked Peter to take her out for dinner, and as they ate, she informed him about being pregnant and the night that it likely happened that she became with child. Yancy admitted to Peter that she had returned to the club since the first time and had done so last weekend. Then Yancy asked, "Peter, would you marry me? I will promise to be faithful to you and not return to the club." "Yes, I will marry you, but I think we should continue with the club, and would you take me as your guest next weekend?" During the remainder of the meal, Peter spoke of how he had made love to her mother while painting her, and he smiled as he spoke, "Yancy, you and your mother feel the same when I make love to either of you... that is the truth. Yancy, your mother wants me to make love and paint Betsy."	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/43/excitement.txt
63,006	Myotherside	I Stay Nude Before My Dad	Yes, you won't believe my words. I am 22 years old and I go completely nude before my Dad (at times). (MF, exh, no-sex, india) My Dad does not get freaked and neither do I. There is nothing sexual in this. It is a pure Dad-Daughter relationship. I would like to tell the readers that the following narration does not contain anything relating to sex. It is just an act of love (true love and not lust) between my dad and me. If anyone is interested in just incest or sex, please don't read further. This narration is not for persons with a sick mind. But if you leave without reading, you will surely miss something really noble. It was a sunny afternoon, and I was returning from my college when that accident happened. I was hit by a speeding youngster on his bike. I was thrown out onto the pavement. I sustained injuries and had fractured both my arms. After a week at the hospital, I was discharged and went home with hard casts of plaster-of-paris on both arms. Since my mom had died a few years ago, the responsibility of nursing me back to health fell on my dad, who was in his late 40s. My dad appointed a nurse to look after me, and everything went well until the nurse was unavailable. Soon after the first week, the nurse didn't come to her duty. Later, we learned that she had got a job with a higher salary in the US (damn the globalization), and all our efforts to find another nurse failed. So my dad took a leave for the day and stayed at the house to look after me until we could get a nurse. I felt acute pain in my hands that day, so my dad called the doctor, and he came and checked me and told my hands were getting well. Before leaving the house, he complained of the smelly nature in my room. My dad told him that I haven't taken a bath since the nurse left. He told my dad to arrange for a bath for me and to be careful not to let the castings get wet while bathing. But since we couldn't find a nurse, the bath was postponed. I had a very good night's sleep that night, thanks to the drugs. When I woke the next morning, I found my room too smelly. Then, I realized I had peed in my bed itself (later it was learned due to the high medication, I had not been able to control myself during my sleep). The situation: I smelled awful, and I had to take a bath. The deadlock: No nurse to do the ritual. My dad dialed many hospitals to find a nurse, but to no avail (almost all the hospitals had run out of nurses - isn't that funny?). As a last resort, he asked me whether he could call any of his colleague's wives to come and give me a bath. Almost everyone said something or the other and rejected our obligation. Then, around 12 o'clock in the morning, my dad came to my room with some polythene sheets in his hands. He tied them around my casts and told me to wait in the bathroom. I was wearing a loose-fitting T-shirt-like hospital gown top with strings attached. With the help of a nurse, I could wear those things without lifting my hands (just strings to be tied around). And a nice polka-dotted pajama trousers. I could not stop guessing what would happen next. My father was to give me (a girl in her late teens) a bath. My heart started to palpitate at a furious rate. After some minutes (minutes looked like hours to me), my dad came in. He threw a glance at me. People say glances can tell what even a hundred words can't tell. And that glance told me to get ready for my bath. He seated me on a stool set in the bathroom and gently started to remove the strings of my T-top. And within seconds, those things were off my body. And then I stood up, and my father pulled my trousers down and threw them into the washing pile. I was standing before my dad with just my bra (the ones without straps) and panties (that too the ones I peed on). Just imagine placing yourself in this situation. Isn't it quite frightening? But I felt it to be a fun and fear-mixed feeling (instead of butterflies fluttering in my stomach, I felt dinosaurs running around!). The situation was far from over. Actually, it had only begun. My father knelt before me, placed his hands on my hips, and pulled down my panties (yeah, that same peed-on ones) to my knee levels and quickly threw them into the washing pile. Well, the situation has now degraded more, not even a 2-piece dressing, just a single piece dressing in front of my dad. Though all sorts of human-created dressings were removed (apart from the castings on my hands), my thick forest of pubic hair was concealing my cunt perfectly. Then he asked me to defecate if I would like to. Yes, my dad asked me to defecate. I sat on the lavatory and defecated, and got up. My dad, without even looking at the crap that I had created, flushed it down the gutter. He then took out a piece of tissue paper and with great care cleaned my anus. Then I went and stood below the shower, and my dad opened the shower and let the water flow for some time (my casting stayed well protected under those polythene sheets). Then he took the shampoo bottle, gave it a thorough shake, and applied it to my waist-long hair and gave them a good wash. This was the moment I started to like this bath. He was behind me, giving my hair a clean wash, then he parted my hair into equal halves and let them fall on my breasts. Then suddenly, I was robbed of the last piece of my clothing. Yes, my father removed my bra too. The act of parting my hair was to cover my breasts. Then he took the soap and applied it to my face first and asked me not to open my eyes because the soap might enter my eyes and cause irritation. So my eyes were closed (this was the reason why the soap was applied on my face first and not at last as usual). Perfect setup that would not humiliate my dad or me. With my eyes closed, my dad moved to the other parts of my body - my back, my stomach, my thighs, my legs, my buttocks - carefully excluding my breasts and groin areas. The soap applying stopped for some time, and then my hair was lifted and put back to cover my back. I could not express how I actually felt at this moment. So I leave it to your imagination. My dad's hands applied soap on my breasts. Those well-grown guavas were being touched by a male for the first time. In the excitement, I could feel my nipples standing hard. I tried hard not to open my eyes. The touch was not nice and romantic; it was in a quick manner. I could understand this was due to a father touching his daughter and nothing else was wrong. Then the hands stopped rubbing my breasts and, after a brief moment, I could feel them on my vagina. Both the hands were busy creating foam in my pubic hair. Around this moment, my father must have had a hard-on, but I could not see it because - yes, you guessed it right - I was temporarily blind. My orgasms were at their peak. But no way to subdue them. At this moment, the phone rang, and my dad went to pick it up and came in after a few minutes. All the soap had dried and were sticking tight to my skin. My father opened the shower. The water rubbed off all the foam it could, and my father scrubbed off the remaining ones that had dried. Some of the dried soap were on my breasts, too. My dad went behind me and got hold of my full-grown guavas (breasts) with both his hands and, under the pretext of scrubbing off the foam, squeezed those things until I felt pain. This time, it was not in a quick manner - it was seducing and romantic. Though I was not asked to close my eyes, I closed them and enjoyed it. Then my father came to my front. He was also drenched wet; I could see the bulge in his trousers. I was there to receive that dick of his, but it was not to happen forever. Then he washed off my groin area and turned the shower off. He went out, took a towel, and came to dry me. He dried my hair first and all the other areas in order. This time too, he gave importance to my breasts. He pressed them well under the pretext of drying me. He removed the protective sheets around my castings; they were bone dry. The drying was also over. He tied the towel around my torso and asked me to go to my room and wait. I stood in my room, thinking of the incidents that had happened within the last half an hour. My dad came in, opened my closet, took a bra (another strapless one) and a panty. He removed the towel, and I was fully naked once again. I lifted one of my legs, and my dad slipped the panties through my legs and then the bra went to its proper position. So I was at least dressed for now. And then he dressed me in my hospital tops and pajamas. The whole day went as if nothing had happened. My father and I spoke as usual.I was expecting the same to happen the next day, but I was disappointed when my father told me it would be enough to take a bath once every 3 days. But both of us would love to take a bath the whole day, but who would bell the cat? I belled the cat. I once again peed, and the bathing act repeated itself to our delight. Whenever I thought of going nude, I would pee, blaming it on the medication. My father also stopped the search for a nurse. But after some time, the bathing started to change drastically. My eyes were not closed with foam; they were left to see whatever they liked. My dad used every opportunity to feel my breasts with both his hands, and I was able to get orgasms more frequently, and my dad got his erections frequently. My dad would tie the towel around me and send me to my room, but I would loosen the towel and prefer standing nude in my room, blaming my hands for not being able to tie them. Within a month, my fractures had healed well, and it was time to remove those casts and go in for some physiotherapy for my arms. And my nude bathing sessions stopped abruptly. One day, they were screening "Basic Instinct" on HBO. I was watching the movie and was aroused very much by it. My dad came home in the evening. I felt sexy and romantic, so I went fully dressed to my dad and asked him to give me a bath. He too did not hesitate: he undressed me, gave me a bath, squeezed my breasts, got an erection, and things went as if nothing happened. So whenever I felt romantic or sexy, I would ask my dad to give me a bath. And whenever he felt sexy too, I would go for a bath even if it was for the 3rd time a day. I felt romantic very frequently, but my father felt romantic only at times. But when he got horny, the bath was a different experience. At those instances, I would get an oil massage and a hot water bath. The oil massage was to feel my body to its fullest. During such massages, my breasts would be squeezed in such a hard way that I felt the pain for the next 2 or 3 days. But no pain, no gain goes the saying. This has been happening for a year now. During one such oil massage bath, I could not control myself, and I planted a deep French-kiss on my father. I quickly transferred all the contents of my mouth to his. He too joined the act and repeated it and sucked my breasts for some seconds and suddenly left the room and went to his room and shut himself. I think I had crossed the limit that day. From that day on, I never indulge in such activities. Till now, we haven't had any sexual intercourse. I could not say why. I think we had banned ourselves (no one would know if we had sex) from performing intercourse. It had been an unwritten rule like respecting each other's dignity (I think so). I could not say what our relationship is. I would say it is not incest, which you might not accept. Only God knows the answer to this puzzle.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/43/istaydad.txt
63,521	Daddy'sgirlcat	Session in a Hotel	You walk me through the hotel corridor, a hand on the back of my neck directing me forward. I'm barely paying attention to where we're going because I'm too busy focusing on the constant whirring of the vibrator inside my pussy. You turned it on to full power before slipping it inside me, and I'm struggling to keep a normal expression. We reach a lift at the end of the corridor, and a telltale ping opens its doors. You lead me inside, where a woman is already standing, scrolling through something on her phone. She doesn't seem to notice my discomfort or your hand on my neck. You press the button for our floor, and then we stand behind the woman so her back is to us. She doesn't notice as you pull down my top so that my breasts spill out of it. I have to bite my lip to keep from moaning as your fingers close around one of my nipples and you pinch hard. My back arches, but a light squeeze from your hand on my neck holds me still. You twist my nipple, and I close my eyes, trying to keep quiet. It's so hard when your torturous fingers are pulling and twisting and teasing. I know you'd tell me to control myself if we could speak right now, so I try my best. It's much harder when you lean down and bite my breast, your teeth digging into my skin. I can feel your teeth bruising me. It hurts but feels so good at the same time. It's almost like you're daring me to make a sound, daring me to reveal our situation to the unsuspecting woman in the lift with us. It's almost like you want her to turn around and see what a slut I am. My hands ball into fists as I try to keep myself from making any noise. The lift comes to a stop, and my eyes flash open, panicking slightly that someone will step into the lift and see us. I hold my breath as the doors open, and I am relieved to find no one there. The woman gets out, not turning to see us as she leaves the lift; not noticing that my bare breasts are hanging out for anyone to see. I breathe a sigh of relief as the doors close again. 'You were a good girl at keeping quiet,' you say, your mouth leaving my skin. Then you pull my top up to cover my breasts, and we say nothing until we're out of the lift. 'Next time I'm going to make you ask the woman if she wants to join us.' I look at you and whisper, 'Yes, Master.' You lead me forward and toward our room. Once we're inside, you tell me to strip, and I quickly peel off my dress. You never let me wear underwear, so I'm soon naked before you. I watch as you take a seat on the bed and tell me to come to you. 'Turn around, slut,' you say, when I'm right in front of you. I do, and you take hold of my arms, tying them behind my back with the scarf you instructed me to bring. Before I can even think about what you're going to do next, you bend me over your lap so that only my tiptoes are still touching the ground. It's a familiar position, one that I crave. My pussy is dripping wet with the anticipation of what you're about to do to me. You rub your hand lightly over my backside before slapping down hard. I moan, flinching slightly out of surprise. 'I think it's time we bruise that backside of yours, don't you?' you say. 'Yes, Master,' I reply. 'You're going to thank me every time I hit you, do you understand, slut?' 'Yes, Master,' I nod. Your hand slaps down again, leaving a bright red handprint on my pale skin. 'Thank you, Master.' You hit me again, harder. 'Thank you, Master.' You keep hitting me, and I keep moaning and thanking you, until you're satisfied that my backside is red and bruising enough. With that, you pull me off of you and place me face down on the bed. 'Don't move; we're not done yet, slut.' I moan into the bed. I hear you move back and start doing something. I have no idea what you're going to use next, but I have a wonderful feeling that it's going to hurt. I so love it when you hurt me... You undo your belt and pull it from around you. Without warning, you whip it against my skin sharply, and a loud slap of leather on skin rings out. I can't help but cry out and flinch at the sharpness. You hit me again, the belt slapping harder against my backside, and say, 'Say thank you, slut.' 'Sorry, Master, thank you,' I say with a heavy breath. Your belt smacks against my backside again and again, and I keep thanking you, though my voice is getting weaker and more strained as I get lost in the pain you're giving me. You watch as with every hit, more dark red lines appear on my backside. I'm trying to force myself to keep from squirming, but it's so hard. Welts start to show up after a few more hits. You only stop when a few of your hits break the skin, though. I haven't been able to stop moaning and mumbling 'thank you' as you hit me. You roll me over on the bed, and I groan as my backside touches the material. 'It hurts...' I moan, looking up at you. 'But it's so good...' 'Let's see how good,' you reply as your hand moves to my pussy. You find my pussy wet and slide the buzzing vibrator out of me and quickly replace it with three of your fingers. I moan as your fingers fill me up, and you stretch my pussy slightly. You slide your fingers in and out of me torturously slowly. I can't stop myself from raising my hips to meet the rhythmic thrusting of your fingers. With your free hand, you push me down, holding me against the bed. 'Stay still.' 'Yes, Master,' I gasp. That's when you start pushing a fourth finger into my soaking pussy. I moan loudly as you start stretching me open even wider. I feel so full... 'I'm going to get my fist inside you, slut.' 'Oh please, Master,' I moan, spreading my legs wider for you. 'Please...' 'Good girl,' you say as you start to push your thumb into me. My back arches, and I can't stop myself from crying out loudly, so loudly that you have to put your hand over my mouth. It takes a lot of pushing and near-crying on my part before your entire fist pops inside my pussy. And that's when I pass out from the intense pain and pleasure you're giving me.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/84/sessioninahotel.txt
63,531	Mr. Silk	Your Boyfriend	You enjoyed the threesome last night. Finally, you fulfilled your fantasy of taking two cocks at once. But you would have never guessed that yet another fantasy would be fulfilled the next day. (MM, voy, reluc, oral, mast) After our first night of fucking, V and I have pretty much worn you out. So the next day, you find yourself in need of a nap. We both say that's cool, and retire to the bedroom as V and I play video games to kill time. You fall asleep to the beeps and bangs of virtual warfare. The sounds that you wake to are altogether different. There are moans and groans. A man's voice saying, "Oooo, yeah!" A woman saying, "Fuck me harder!" It's a little difficult to sleep through, and so you make your way to the living room, where you see V and I watching porn on the same TV where we had been playing video games. Our backs are to you, and you almost decide to join us, but as you see us squirm in our seats, you think it better to wait and watch. What do boys say when a woman isn't around? "Goddamn I love the way her tits bounce," I say. V nods as he sips his beer. "Fucking great. And check out the way she sucks that dick. That girl just loves sucking dick." "Heh, kind of like S, huh?" "Damn right." At that praise, you step forward, but when you see the tents in our pants you stop. We are both painfully erect, and you know we would love for you to relieve some of that tension. But you like the show. Why not let the boys suffer a little? It will just make us fuck you harder. And you notice, as we sit there, nursing our beers, that we can't quite keep from touching ourselves. Casually we might rest the bottle between our legs, pressing into our crotches. Or we might lay a hand upon our thigh, stroking absent-mindedly. Every few minutes, one of us will adjust ourselves, sneaking in a firm squeeze. "Hey, V..." I say, hesitantly. "This shit is pretty hot." "No kidding," he says, equally mesmerized. "I was kind of thinking... Well, would you mind if I..? I mean, we've already seen each other's dicks and all..." "Naw, man," he says, already opening his fly. "Whip that shit out. I've been waiting for you to say something." "What a relief," I groan. And in a moment both of our firm, fat penises are out and in our hands. The sight is so lovely, you feel your cunt clench and moisten. As the on-screen fucking builds, the in-person jerking does too. There is the flat sound of meat slapping on meat, mixed with our sighs and grunts. Then, V says, "Shit, I wish S was awake. God I'd love to feel her mouth around me right now." "Damn, man. That would be perfect. You wanna go wake her?" "Oooooooo, fuck that would be great... But, no, better let her rest right?" "Yeah, sure..." You see me looking over to him. You see me looking at your boyfriend. You see me watching his cock. "Hey, V?" I'm hesitant again, and you pray that you know why. "Yeah?" I pause, building courage. "You want me to help you with that?" V stops. He turns to me. And you think that any moment he might punch me and throw me out the front door. Instead, all he says is, "What?" "I was thinking... since she's asleep... do you want me to... help you?" "Aw fuck, man." But you can tell the curse is more in amazement than in rage. "Are you kidding?" "No. I mean... I've been kind of wondering some things... about myself." "You really into that?" I shrug. "I don't really know. That's what I've been wondering about. But I figure, I'm out here to experience something new, right? And, well, shit, man. You did let me fuck your girl. You could say I owe you." He pauses again. "I'm not a fag, you know." "I know. I don't think I am either. But, wouldn't it be nice to, uh, get an assist?" "Um... I don't know... I guess..." He weighs it carefully, and then, "So, what did you have in mind?" "Well, maybe, I could start like this..." And as my hand wraps around your boyfriend's cock, you feel like you just might faint. We are silent for a few minutes. There is only the sound of the porn on TV to mask the wet squishing of your fingers into your cunt, because you can't hold back any more. Watching me jerk your boyfriend off has your blood burning and your clit throbbing. "Is that okay?" you hear me ask. "Yeah...Yeah that's good." I spit into my hand, getting it nice and wet for him. When I wrap my fingers around his meat once more, he sighs. "Oh, yeah, that's real good." Without a word, I slip off the couch, and on to the carpet in front of him. I kneel between his legs, still jerking his thick rod. "How about a little more?" I ask him. "Hey, man, you do whatever you like," he says with a laugh. Then I close my eyes, and lower my mouth around him. He groans with a gentle, "Aw fuck..." As my head bobs up and down along his shaft, you pound your fingers furiously into your cunt, matching my rhythm. I vary my speed, taking several short strokes and then a long and slow one. I suck the tip of his cock, flick my tongue along the underside of his shaft. My eyes are closed, intent on servicing him. But then, you see my eyes open as I look up at his face, gagging his response. You freeze for just a moment, knowing that you are in plain sight. For a moment, you think about backing away, but then my eyes catch you. You feel all of the blood leave your face as our gazes lock on each other. Then you see me smile with his cock halfway in my mouth. Keeping my eyes intent on yours, I suck him with renewed fury. You begin to work your fingers once more, seeing how I want you to watch me, how I want you to enjoy the sight of your boyfriend's dick in my mouth. V begins to groan louder. "Oh, fuck. Oh fucking fuck! I thinking I'm gonna... Wait, I'm gonna..." And all of a sudden I release him from my mouth and begin vigorously jerking his cock. He bites back his ecstasy, and whispers, "Holy shit!" as wave after wave of white-hot cum shoots out of his cock, landing stream after pearly stream upon my face. The sight of that drives you over the edge. You cum with such intensity that if you were not leaning against the wall, you would have fallen to your knees. Your legs tremble underneath you, and you clench your teeth to keep from screaming. As it passes, you see me looking up at V, smiling through a mask of his spunk. "Not bad, huh?" His laugh is not so nervous as you would have expected. "Naw, man. Not bad at all. You've had to have done that before." I shrug. "Once or twice. Mostly it's studying plenty of porn. But you know one thing they never show in the movies?" "What?" "The clean up!" We laugh. "Can you get me a towel?" "Sure man." As V begins to slip his pants back on, you quickly leap back down the hall. Quietly as you can, you slip back into bed, just as if nothing had ever happened. But as you close your eyes, you can't get those images out of your head. You smile, and think of what other images the three of us will create that night...	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/35/your.txt
63,576	dale10	Sixth Grade Sleepover	You know, maybe I'm just getting old, but kids today, go figure. Did we do that kind of stuff? Yesterday I wrote to you about eighth-grade boys and the kinds of games they get up to. Well, seventh-grade boys must learn from the older ones, because they get into all kinds of trouble too. Here is a photo of a seventh-grade sleepover party, boys of eleven and twelve. Now, I don't know about you, but when I was young, our sleepover parties weren't in the nude. And they asked me to take this photo of them. They have no shame. I could hear them from outside the room, whacking their meat together and talking about who had the biggest dick, and about how their dicks were finally growing. Then they talked about girls in the seventh grade in the most ugly terms, calling them "cunts" and "twats." Then I heard one of the boys suggest that they practice their kissing so that they could really get the "cunts" hot when they frenched them. Then I heard all this smooching and stuff, so I quietly opened the door, and sure enough, all the boys had paired up and were tongue-kissing each other and feeling each other up. The boys were also frigging their dicks at the same time. It was quite a sight. All four little pricks were rock hard. Then the oldest boy suggested that they change partners so that they could get used to different kinds of kisses, so they traded and then really went to town, slopping spit into each other's mouths while they jerked prick. On the one hand, I think it's healthy that they are so open about sexuality and their feelings. And I do think it is good that they practice on each other so they can make a good showing not only in front of the girls, but in front of the other boys as well. I mean, they have to have confidence if they are going to ask a girl out. I watched as they rubbed each other's titties, then they stopped kissing and compared titties, to see which boy had the tits that were most like a girl. They flicked each other's nipples and pulled on them. Their little dicks bounced and jerked. Then they put slips of paper into a hat and drew them out, I didn't know why. It was to see which two boys would have to be the "cunts" for the night. Two of the boys had to be "cunts" so the other two could practice their fucking. This, I thought, was really smart, as it meant the boys took turns being the "cunt." I think a boy should know something about how a girl feels getting a dick slammed into her. It might make him more sensitive and aware. Also, I think it very wise that the boys know something about fucking before they actually try it with a "cunt." And of course, eleven and twelve are perfect ages to do this as their dicks haven't yet grown into huge hunks of teenage fuckmeat. Of course, some of the boys may have been getting fucked regularly by their older brothers, who no doubt had thick dicks, but I don't know for sure. I do know that two of the boys have really horny, outrageously wild older brothers who are the talk of the town, and so I wouldn't be surprised if they were fucking their little brothers. Well, I had to close the door so they wouldn't be disturbed, but I could hear the bed bouncing and the boys grunting as they got fucked. And I know that at least one of the boys was already shooting dick snot because the next morning the bed sheet was all stiff with boy cum. Then two of the boys came down wearing boxer shorts and tee shirts for snacks and soda. They then returned to the room, and later I once again peeked in. One of the boys was bringing up porno sites on the computer, and the other three were gathered around, frigging. They were laughing because someone was leaking and getting his pre-spooge all over the boy at the computer. They were on some site where dogs were fucking girls, and one of the boys wondered what dog cock would feel like in his ass. Then they went on some gay "sm" sites, and then they read some stories by some guy named dale10 who they all agreed was their favorite author. Now the boys were jerking each other's dicks. One boy said too bad they couldn't practice pussy sucking, as they had to get good at that too. The oldest boy said they could, if they pretended that their assholes were pussies. Two boys said that was gross and assholes were really dirty. The oldest boy said, not if they washed them good first. So they all went into the bathroom together and pissed and then washed their assholes. Then they took turns sticking their tongues up each other's assholes and pretending they were pussies. I salute these boys for being so creative. They are ahead of their time. The four boys then slept naked together in the one bed. It must have been very cozy. They are going to have sleepovers almost every weekend, you know how kids go through fads. I think I might suggest that they invite their older brothers along, although I don't know if two hunky seventeen-year-olds would want to join in. But, you never know. Which of the boys is your favorite, let me know. I know I have my favorite. (Photos available, contact me.)	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/35/sixth.txt
63,736	Samantha Pratt	My First Threesome	You call me on the phone and ask me to come over. I walk in your house, and immediately you start passionately kissing my neck. You quickly and quietly undress me. As we're kissing, I start pulling at your clothes, wanting you to be as vulnerable as me. Pinning my arms over my head, you violently explore my hungry mouth. I want you so bad. You hurry me to your bathroom where you have a hot shower running. I step into your shower as you follow behind me. I gasp at the change of temperature. You grab my leg and balance me backwards on one leg, putting the other on your hip for leverage. You shove your hard cock into my pussy while kissing my face and neck. We're going at it so hungrily with lust for each other that we don't hear your wife walk in and pull open the shower curtain. I see her with a smirk on her face and fire in her eyes. I'm scared witless, and then she smiles at you as you lean back to kiss her lovingly. I'm quite shocked and scared, but also curious. She grabs my nipple and twists it between her fingers. I smile as she undresses and joins us. She puts a video camera on the counter to catch our trio. As she starts kissing me, our breasts rubbing together, you smile and your cock gets even harder. You bend down to lick and bite our breasts. We tilt our heads back and grind our tight pussies together, so horny for your big, hard cock. My heart's beating so fast as I get on my knees. I'm so nervous and scared as I part her lips, her hand on my head. My virgin tongue touches her softness and slides in and out, up and down this forbidden terrain. Getting into it, I rub my hands up her smooth ass, tilting her hips so I can go as deep as my tongue will allow into her slick hole. As she's kissing you, savoring your familiar mouth, I'm sucking her pussy. She's bucking viciously, fucking my face, her sweet cum leaking on my tongue. You pull me up and kiss me violently. Your tongue fights mine as if in a life or death duel as your wife eats my soaking wet pussy. You get on your knees as you both eat and fuck my sore pussy, aching for your hard cock to make me cum. Your tongues drive me past rational thoughts. Your wife stands up as I kiss her off your tongue, as if stealing me back. You shove your throbbing hard cock in my quivering pussy, as it grips at your cock. As you begin fucking my pussy in and out, out and in, my pussy grips your cock as you start fucking me harder and harder, fucking my brains out. I'm screaming out in pleasure. Your wife gets out and gets a strap-on out of the cabinet, puts it on, and squirts some lube out and slides it on the thin 6-inch rod of steel. She gets in and as you're fucking me, she slides into your tight virgin asshole. You groan as you pound my pussy as she slides the shaft in and out of your ass. You make the middle of this very interesting sandwich. I'm kissing your hot mouth as you fuck me, your wife is pounding your asshole, full to the brim with a 6-inch black steel cock. Your ass is gripping at it as you're gasping as your cock explodes inside my aching, horny pussy. Your hot seed oozes out of my tight pussy. Your wife's cum is leaking out around the edge of the double-sided strap-on. As she is kissing your neck, I'm taking over your mouth, so thankful for this mind-blowing experience. We all kind of stand there for a minute collecting our thoughts, and then we begin to dress. Once we are all decent, you walk me to my car and give me a kiss on the cheek. As I smile sweetly up into your lust-filled eyes and let my hand graze over your growing shaft, we say "night" almost at the same time. I get in my car as you walk inside to fuck your wife.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/35/myfirst.txt
63,845	Alex Hawk	Fact vs Fiction	You all know me from my work. You don't know my name, not my real name at any rate. I write as Jason Crow, and I've done about 60 stories, give or take. Porn stories, all of them. They tend to be heavy on the subjects of incest and teen sex. They're pretty popular, I guess. I average about one or two bits of fan mail in my email box every day. One day, my fame on the Internet wound up paying off more than I'd expected. It was a pretty average day, really. I'd worked hard and was looking forward to getting home, relaxing and jerking off. Maybe writing a few bits on my latest story. I also, of course, had to check my email. Booting up the computer, I sat down at my desk, ready to go. Once my connection was established, I visited www.operamail.com, where I have my mailbox. I read the first two letters. Nothing special. One was spam, and the other was an email from a girl who said she loved reading my stories, and was I done yet with part 14 in this long-ass 14 part series I was writing? I updated her, thanked her, and went onto the last bit of new mail from someone named Miloboi91. "Hey, dude," the mail said, "I really like reading your stories. You really know how to write like a teen. :) My sister and I love to read your stories together. I'm 14 and she's 13, so we're like the kids in your stories. Sometimes we even like to play with ourselves while we read them, like jerk off and stuff, you know? We never do stuff to each other, though. We think about it sometimes. Anyway, your stories are hot. Thanks for writing them! Take care, dude. Milo and Kassie" "God, what a mess," I thought, desperately wanting a red pen to go over the text with. Still, it was a nice bit of mail, even if it was, I figured, total bullshit. I'd get letters like this every once in a while. I figured most of them, if not all, were adults pretending to be teenagers. Eh. That was probably for the best. The last thing I needed was to be in contact with REAL teens on the Internet. Hey, Milo and Kassie (my reply began). It's nice to hear from you! I'm glad you enjoy my work, even if you are a little too young to be reading it (I always threw that in when I figured it even MIGHT be real kids. CYA, you know). ^_^ It's cool you feel comfortable reading together like that. You probably read in some of my notes on my stories that I had sex with my sister when I was younger. It was a lot of fun. ^_^ If you guys ever take it up a notch, let me know. Thanks for reading, thanks for writing! - Jason Crow Then I hit send and went off to a few other websites. About thirty minutes later, as I was downloading some porn, I thought I'd check my email again. Just in case. Much to my happy surprise, there was a letter from Milo. "Thanks for writing back, dude. It's real cool to hear from you. :) Yeah, my sister and I talk about doing more, but we haven't yet. But maybe we might soon. :) Did you and your sister really like do everything, even fuck? We're both virgins, and I wanna try fucking Kassie, but she's not sure about it yet. We took a pic and put it at the end of the message. Hope you like it! Bye. Milo and Kassie" I scrolled down and looked at the pics. They showed a boy and a girl sitting at a desk in what looked like a bedroom. Nothing really big. They looked like they were in their early teens and could have been brother and sister. Pretty cute, too. What really got me to sit up and take notice, though, was the fact that they were holding up a bit of paper on which they'd written "Hey, Jason!" "Well, now..." I said as I sat back to consider my next move. Of course, if there was even a chance they were really teenagers, my smart move would be to run for the hills. But I wasn't entirely convinced. I knew that with the right software, one could easily make it look like that bit of paper had anything on it. It didn't really mean anything, but it helped. After thinking for a few moments, I had my reply in mind. Hi, guys! Thanks to YOU for writing back so soon! ^_^ Yes, my sister and I did everything together, including intercourse (this was a lie. I'd never done anything with my sister. I just got off on telling people I did). I lost my virginity to her, though she wasn't a virgin the first time we did it. We were almost the same age as you guys, too. I was thirteen and she was twelve. You're a year older than me, Milo! Better hop to it! ^_^ That's a nice picture. I love the sign. ^_^ You're both pretty cute. If you guys lost your virginities to each other, I wouldn't know who to envy more, you or her. ^_^ If you wanna send another pic, do it with Milo's shirt off and Kassie making a stupid face. ^_^ - Jason Crow I figured that last bit would help verify what they really were. Sadly, it looked like it was going to be a while before I found out because the mail server that I used decided to start crashing when I checked on it about a half-hour later. Damn. It stayed down all night. Finally, grumbling, I gave up, admitted defeat, and went on to other things. * * * The entire next day at work, I was really distracted. I kept flubbing my lines and had to go over again. The director was getting understandably pissed. I did voice-over work. I had the script right in front of me. It wasn't like it was difficult. Finally, I made it back through the chaos of rush hour traffic in Los Angeles and back to my apartment in Woodland Hills. I parked my car and raced inside, turning on my computer before I even turned on the lights. I wanted it to boot up while I did everything else I needed to do. Thank god the mail system was back up. I would have gone insane if I'd had to wait very much longer. Hopping into my account, I saw a series of four letters, one of which was from Milo! I tore through the other three and then opened up that one. "Hey, dude, glad you liked our sign. :) We did what you said, and the picture is down at the bottom. It's cool you and your sister used to fuck. Kassie wants to know, did it hurt her the first time you guys did it, and weren't you worried about having a baby? Anyway, thanks for talking with us. It's pretty cool you're nice. :) Bye. Milo and Kassie" And there it was, down at the bottom, a picture of the same boy and girl. His shirt was off, and she was making a stupid face. He was, too, even though I hadn't asked that. Now I'd gone from being 90% certain they were fakes to being 90% certain they were real. What next? Nice picture, but too many clothes. ^_^ Yeah, it's nice talking in email like this, but if you like, you can get onto ICQ and contact me there (I threw on a link to my account). Then we can talk a little more easily. Take care! - Jason Crow About ten minutes later, as I was typing a little on my latest story (I'd promised people I'd have part 14 done by now, damn it!), my ICQ made a little sound. Daring to hope, I clicked, finding out that, indeed, Milo had contacted me! [Hey, dude] Holy shit! [Hey, guys!] [Kool, now we can talk like this. :)] [Yeah, or more if you have the right software.] [What u mean] [Well, you have a cam, right? You can set that up so that you're streaming video to me. Then I can see you while we talk. ^_^ I'd set up one myself, but I don't have a cam. :( ] [We can, huh?] came the reply. [How] I walked them through the process and sat back to wait and wonder. Moments later, a screen popped up. I clicked on it, and there, large as life, was a view of Milo and Kassie sitting side-by-side at his computer. I could even hear their voices. "Let me see if he can see us," Milo said. He typed onto his keyboard, and I saw [Can u see us] on my screen. [Yes, and hear you, too. You can just talk if you like. I DO have a mike, even if I don't have a cam, so I'll set that up and we can talk directly.] "Hey, he says he can hear us. Cool. Hey, Jason!" he said. He and Kassie waved at the camera. I turned on my mike and got it working. "Can you hear me now?" "Yeah." "Good!" They both laughed, and Kassie said, "It's so cool we're really talking with you!" "For me, too. I'm glad you guys aren't fakes. I had a mental image of some eighty-year-old potato farmer from Idaho trying to talk with me pretending to be a teen." Both kids laughed. Milo said, "Not that old yet!" "How old are you?" Kassie asked. "Thirty," I said. In my little FAQ I put out about me, I'd shaved a few years off, but I figured I might as well be honest now. "Cool," she replied. I looked into their bedroom. "Hey... is that a Dodgers pennant?" Milo looked over his shoulders. "Yeah." "Cool! You guys live in LA?" "Yeah, we do. Well, kind of anyhow. We actually live in Canoga Park." I was floored. They lived within only a few miles of me! Holy shit! "Cool. I live in Woodland Hills." "Wow, really?" Milo said."Hey, we'll have to meet up some time!" "That might be cool. So you guys like my stories, huh?" "Yeah, they really rock!" Kassie said. I laughed. "Glad to know it." "Yeah, we've been reading them for like a couple months now," Milo added. "And you like... shall we say... enjoying yourselves while you read them?" I asked. They giggled again and Kassie said, "Yeah. Well, it was his idea, but I like doing it, too." "Do you do it to each other, or just yourselves?" "Just ourselves," Milo said. "So I bet you're both pretty horny right now, huh?" I asked with a slightly fake laugh. Milo and Kassie laughed in return as he said, "Yeah, I am anyhow." "I am, too, kinda." "Well... you wanna know a way to repay me for all the stories of mine you've gotten off to?" "How?" Milo asked. "Well, if you want, you could do it right now and let me watch," I said, reaching down to adjust my incredibly hard penis. "Right now?" Kassie asked, trading a look with her brother. "Sure." Milo looked at Kassie and shrugged. "I don't mind if you don't mind." "I guess it's ok," she responded after a minute. "Ok." He looked at the cam. "We like to be naked when we do it. Is that ok with you?" "Sure," I said, trying not to cheer. Both teens stood up and started undressing before my eyes. First went the shirts, then the pants and then lastly the underwear. Once they were both nude they sat back down. I couldn't really tell what their proportions were, but they looked nice, that was for certain. As soon they sat down their hands went to their genitals and they started masturbating. "Now THAT'S a wonderful sight," I said with total sincerity as I pulled out my penis and began rubbing. Sounding nervous, both kids giggled. Milo said, "Are you doing it, too?" "Yeah," I replied, stroking slowly. "Cool," he said. "So what did you and your sister used to do?" Kassie asked, finger slipping around her vagina. "Everything," I lied easily. "We started out just masturbating together, and then we started to do it with each other and it went from there." Kassie nodded. "Cool." "What she really liked when we first started out was having me sucking on her nipples while she fingered herself." "Really?" "Yeah, she said it was really incredible." Both kids traded a look, getting notions. "That's something you guys could do with each other," I hinted. "Just to start out with at least." "You wanna, Kassie?" Milo said. "I guess. If it feels good." "Alright." Not removing his hand from his penis, Milo leaned down and kissed his sister's right nipple. I nearly came right then and there as I looked at this bit of incest. If I could actually get them fucking... damn! "How's that feel, Kassie?" I asked as Milo continued his work. Kassie sucked in her breath. "Your sister was right..." "You got a finger inside you?" "Yeah..." she said with a gasp. "Let Milo put his inside you while he sucks you," I suggested. "Oh... alright..." I saw her hand move aside. Probably unable to believe his luck, Milo moved his hand down between his sister's legs. He fumbled around for a bit, then looked down and I saw the look on Kassie's young face change as her brother's finger entered her vagina. "Oh, god..." she whispered so quietly I barely heard it. "You like that?" Milo asked. "Yeah..." He started sucking on his sister's bare breast while continuing to finger her vagina. Knowing that they were both having a great time, I figured I might as well increase the pleasure for Milo. "Kassie?" "Yeah...?" "You think you could play around with Milo's penis a little?" She looked down between her brother's legs and nodded. I could barely see what she was doing from the angle I was at, but it was pretty obvious when she put her hand around her brother's penis because he jumped a little and began fingering her faster. Jesus, I thought. This was really incest! I couldn't believe I was lucky enough to get to see this, especially since they were both teens and virgins! This was like a wet dream come to life for me! Now I just HAD to get them to fuck. Suddenly those thoughts were sidetracked when Milo let out a strangled moan. Seconds later his sister called out, "Ew! Gross! MILO!" "Sorry... sorry..." the boy whispered as he staggered onto his chair, penis still twitching. I couldn't help but laugh. "Sorry, Kassie. I'm guessing he made a bit of a mess." "Yeah, a bit..." She was wiping her hand off on the side of the chair. "Wait, don't get rid of all of it yet," I said, an idea taking hold. "Ok." She looked into the cam. "Take some of it and rub it around and in your vagina. My sister always loved it when I did that." This was pure fabrication, but it made sense. "Ok," Kassie said, sounding doubtful. But then she started to do it and her eyes went wide. "Wow! You weren't kidding!" She began going faster and faster and then suddenly gasped, twitched and shuddered as she experienced her orgasm. Once she'd come down from her orgasmic high, I said to the kids, "That was great, guys! Did you have fun?" "Oh, yeah," Milo said with a grin. Kassie nodded and said, "Yeah, that was cool." "Great!" I took a breath. "You know... if you guys want, we can meet up in person at some point? Say at the mall?" The children traded looks. Milo said, "Sure, I guess. Like tomorrow?" "Ok. How about at four down in the food court?" "Sounds good." "Ok, see you guys then." "Bye," Kassie said as her brother waved and broke the connection. Well... I had something to look forward to! The Topanga Plaza Mall was just a short walk from my house on Victory. I'd gone there a lot over the years whenever I needed to pick up this or that. In this case I'd be picking up something entirely different from usual. I entered the mall and went down to the food court. I'd shown up early. I walked over to Tommie's and got myself a chili-cheeseburger, fries and a Coke. Then I found a table in a quiet area and sat to wait. I didn't have to wait too long. I was only there sitting for about five minutes before I saw Kassie and Milo walk into the food court. I smiled. In person they were even more beautiful than on the screen. "Milo, Kassie!" I called out waving. They looked at me, waved a little nervously and walked over. "Jason?" Milo asked. "More or less." I shook their hands. "Have a seat. Want some of my fries?" "Sure," Milo said, helping himself. "Wow..." Kassie said. "I can't believe we're, like, really meeting you!" "In the flesh," I said, striking a little pose. "So... what now?" asked Milo. I took a breath. "Well, we can either hang out here for a while, or, if you guys want, we can walk back to my apartment. It's only a few minutes from here." They exchanged looks with each other again. Slowly Milo said, "Well... I guess that'll be ok. You seem alright." "I'm pretty average," I agreed. "You guys want something to eat before we go? My treat." "No, I'm good," Milo said. "Me, too," Kassie replied. I stood and gathered up my things. "Then let's go!" Making our way out of the mall we started talking about any number of things. With Milo I mostly talked about baseball. We both laughed at the idea of a team called "The Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim", and justly so. Kassie was largely quiet through the walk. Consumed in her own thoughts. When we got to my (overpriced) apartment I let the kids inside and showed them around. Then I got them each a Coke and we sat down in the living room. "Well!" I said. "You guys wanna take a look at my latest stories? The ones I'm still writing?" "Sure!" said Kassie. "Yeah, that'd be sweet." "Come on, then." I stood up and lead them into the bedroom. I'd left my computer booted up when I'd headed out earlier. I called up a couple partial stories and then moved aside and said, "Here, take a look." Kassie sat in the chair at the computer itself while Milo pulled up a smaller chair and sat next to her. She began to scroll through the story. It was about a brother and sister couple, strangely enough the boy was fourteen and she was thirteen, who wind up getting horny after reading some porn and eventually end up fucking. I'd gotten it to the part where the kids had masturbated each other to orgasm and were pondering more. It had taken me the better part of the morning to write the damn thing. "Well, gee," Milo said with a smirk. "I wonder who THIS is about?" "I wonder?" I laughed. Kassie looked at me. "So what happens next in the story?" "I don't know. What do you think happens?" She shrugged. Milo said, "I think they should have sex." "I think you're right," I said. Looking at Kassie, I asked, "Do you think they should?" "Yeah," she said softly after a moment. "I was thinking," I went on, "that maybe they might meet an older man who could show them how to do it. What do you both think?" Kassie said, "That would probably make it easier for them." "Yeah." "Why not take off your shirt, Kassie?" I suggested. Moving slowly, like she was in a dream, Kassie pulled her t-shirt off her body. She followed that by dropping her bra to the floor, exposing her lovely teenage breasts. Taking a chance, I leaned forward and cupped one of her small breasts. She shuddered and closed her eyes. Looking at Milo, I said, "Take off your shirt, too, and then put your hand on the other one and do what I do, ok?" "Ok." He removed his shirt and closed his hand over his sister's other breast. I gently massaged Kassie's breast and then began circling her nipple with my fingertips, watching as Milo followed my every move. Kassie seemed to be in heaven, and things only got more heavenly when I leaned down and started sucking on her nipple, her brother following suit. As I kept sucking on Kassie's nipple, I took Milo's hand in mine and slowly moved it down towards Kassie's jeans.Once we were there, I unbuttoned and unzipped them, then slipped my hand and Milo's down into her panties. I felt a shiver of delight go through her body and mine as my fingers made contact with her vaginal area. "You keep working up here," I said to Milo. "I'm going down there." "Okay," Milo said as he began licking and sucking both nipples now. As soon as I was down between Kassie's legs, I began pulling her jeans and panties off. Once she was nude, I drank in the sight of her lovely body. She only had a small amount of pubic hair above her vagina. Lovely. I leaned in and started licking all over the place. "Oh, god," Kassie whispered, her body tensing as pleasure shot through her. "Take off your clothes, Milo," I whispered to him as I lifted my face for a moment before going back down between his sister's legs. "Okay." He stood up and quickly slipped out of the rest of his pants, his virgin teenage penis all nice and hard and ready to go. Seeing him nude was enough to make up my mind as to what was going to happen next. I worked my way out of my clothes, not skipping a beat on my efforts with Kassie's vagina. She was clearly having fun. I slowly kissed my way up Kassie's body until I was nuzzling against her breasts again. This also meant that my hard penis was resting against her young vagina. I began alternating between kissing her breasts and neck as I reached down to take hold of my erection, rubbing it against her slit. Oh, she was nice and wet. I knew it was time. This was my chance. Milo might have dreamed about taking his sister's virginity, but I was going to beat him to it. I moved up and began kissing Kassie on the mouth, pleased as she started kissing me back, as meanwhile I lined up my penis with the entrance to her teenage body. "Dude..." Milo whispered, looking down. "Are you gonna...?" Without saying anything further, I pushed forward slowly, feeling my thirty-year-old penis begin to work its way into Kassie's thirteen-year-old virgin vagina. It took some serious effort, but the sensation of her wet, tight sleeve clinging to my erection was enough to keep me going. And go I did until I was finally all the way inside this lovely young girl. I held myself still for a few seconds, looking into Kassie's eyes. Or at least trying to. She had them closed. "Kassie?" I whispered. She opened her eyes. "How's it feel?" "I... it... it's... I like it..." she whispered. "Good." I flexed my hips, moving my penis back and forth inside her a little. "Wow..." Milo whispered, looking down to where I entered his sister. "That is SO COOL." "You wanna see what it feels like?" I asked the teenage boy. "Yeah..." I slowly withdrew my penis from inside Kassie's vagina and moved over, turning to Milo to say, "Come down here." Milo got down on his knees between his sister's legs. He took his penis in his hand and said, "Now what?" "Here, let me." I got behind him and took his penis in my hand. I lined it up carefully and then said, "Push." Milo pushed forward, and I felt his fourteen-year-old virgin penis bury itself smoothly and easily inside his sister's thirteen-year-old vagina. I sat back then and looked at his gorgeous young body as he held himself in place. It was like one of my stories come to life! Wonderful. "Oh, wow..." he muttered as his innocent boyhood was gone forever. "Yeah..." Kassie whispered back. "Now fuck your sister," I said to Milo. Milo took a deep breath and started moving his penis slowly in and out of his sister's vagina. He didn't pull out very far, presumably to avoid slipping out as he enjoyed his first fuck. The expressions on the faces of him and his sister were the hottest things I'd ever seen. Sadly, Milo's first bit of intercourse didn't last long. He was inside his sister for only about a minute before he began to grunt and convulse as he fired off his sperm into his sister's unprotected vagina. I wondered if he'd get her pregnant? I hoped so. THAT would be sweet. When Milo was done cumming, I gently pushed him aside. He pulled his no-longer virgin penis out of his sister and I got into place, guiding myself back inside her, feeling the sperm her brother had left behind. I might have been the first person to get into Kassie, but he was the first to cum in her. Moments later, I did the same. Milo and I spent all day taking turns fucking Kassie. She seemed to enjoy it more and more each time we screwed her. I have no idea how many times we fucked that day or how many times we did it after that, but it was certainly a lot. Turns out that even just once might have been too many, because sometime around the first time we'd fucked, Kassie wound up getting pregnant. Mind you, I didn't notice this until the day some nice men in blue came and knocked on my door. Turned out that she'd panicked and told her mother everything. The arrest... sucked. The trial... was brief. I was the father according to the DNA test. The prison term... sucked even harder. Four years. As I sat there in prison, scared and mostly bored, I kept running over in my mind what had happened and wondered if I'd ever do it again? Given the chance, how could I not?	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/34/fact.txt
63,949	dale10	Johnny's Piss Initiation - 2	Young high school student Johnny couldn't believe the direction this initiation had taken. He thought it would be rough, sure, he knew how sadistic teenage boys can get when they are horsing around. But he never imagined having to lie in a bathtub and having over twenty boys piss on him. I mean, these hunky high school kids hauled out their fat teen pricks and took a leak on the boy. Other kids stood around watching. Eighth grade boys stood and watched and giggled. Was this a common initiation? Had other guys gone through it? Johnny was sick to his stomach. He really felt horrible. He had the taste of piss in his mouth and up his nose, and it stung his eyes... boy piss... teen boy piss. It was so fucking gross. Tim, the team captain, leaned over. "You are doing real well, Johnny...now let's move into the locker room for the next part, okay?" "The next part?" Johnny asked, but he shouldn't have opened his mouth so quickly because one of the jocks from the football team hadn't finished pissing yet, and a huge spray of foul yellow urine hit him right in the face. "Oh yeah, the main part of your initiation is still to come. Now come on, crawl out of there. Hey, guys, stop pissing on the kid, give him a chance." So Johnny crawled from the bathtub, dripping piss, and followed Tim and six or seven of the team captains inside. The other guys had put their dicks away, but Johnny was now stark naked, his underpants soaked with piss left in the tub. His teen cock swung as he walked, and his big nuts bounced against his thighs. He was embarrassed as hell that some of the younger boys tried to get a good look at his cock and balls. Some of the older jocks loved to show off and were always giving the younger boys a good look at their fuckmeat. They teased the seventh and eighth grade boys about how much they wanted to suck those big meaty pricks. The younger boys blushed and giggled. Rumor had it that Tim forced his sixth grade brother to suck him off a couple of times a week. But when you are a healthy teenage jock and you need sex, what are you going to do? A dude like Tim needed to shoot off three or four times a day, otherwise he couldn't concentrate on school or sports or anything. And if fresh teen cunt wasn't available, shit, a kid brother's mouth wasn't so bad. "Okay, Johnny, kneel down right here, and guys, strip off and get comfortable." Tim started to undress. Some of the jocks stripped totally bare-assed, some just took off their shirts, while others dropped their pants and underpants but didn't step out of them. Johnny knelt down on the locker room floor, and the jocks formed a circle around him. "Now, Johnny, my boy, this I gotta admit is the rough part of the initiation. See, to show your loyalty to the school, you gotta suck the dick of every team captain. It's a tradition here at our school, but you, being new, wouldn't know that. So, don't think of it as queer or anything. It's just a thing you gotta do. Have you ever sucked a dude's dick, Johnny?" Johnny wanted to puke. "I don't know if I can do this." "Sure you can. We really want you on the team, buddy. We all really like you. You know me best, so you can start with my dick. I'm sorry it's so sweaty. I would wash it off for you, but that's against the initiation rules. Oh, and don't forget to lick my balls good too. You gotta do a complete job on all the captains. If any captain isn't totally satisfied, you don't get on the team. Sorry." "Haven't you guys done enough? You made me drink my own piss and the piss of other guys. You all pissed on me... why must we do this?" Johnny was almost crying...almost crying in front of these big tough jocks. Jesus, some of them had big dicks. How could girls even take those big fat things? They swung there in front of Johnny's face, so fucking obscene. "Come on, Johnny, don't be a fucking pussy now. You can do it. We've got faith in you. We believe in you. All you got to do is pass these final tests. Be a good boy and open your mouth for us." Tim held his fat prick between two fingers and shook it up and down at Johnny's cute face. Johnny knew that his future was on the line. Would he become a respected member of the new school, or would he end up an outcast, an outsider? Sometimes a boy has to do very difficult things in order to fit in. Johnny opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue. Tim rested the fat head of his thick teen dick on the tongue of the new boy. It twitched there, on the boy's tongue, and the other boys leaned in to get a better look. "That a boy, Johnny, you are doing really well!" Tim slid the first few inches of his fuckmeat into Johnny's teen mouth. Johnny wanted to puke, but he knew he couldn't. "Hold it right there... we have to lubricate the prick... Mike, will you help us out?" Mike stepped up to the two boys and wagged his prick in front of them. Johnny was on his knees with Tim's cock head in his mouth. Now Mike squeezed his dick and started to piss. The piss shot out and covered the shaft of Tim's dick. Then Tim slid his piss-coated cock into Johnny's mouth. "Oh man, this is fucking awesome. Suck my dick, Johnny. Suck my piss-covered dick." Mike had squeezed off his piss flow to save the urine. After fucking in and out of Johnny's mouth for a few seconds, Tim pulled out again, and Mike once again coated it with strong yellow piss. It was such a fucking perverted, dirty thing to do, Johnny couldn't believe what was happening to him. The other guys roared with laughter.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/34/johnny2.txt
64,083	Kysa Braswell	The Girls' Club	Yvette had it all but one thing: grades. She was popular; she had a million-dollar smile, and her very full E-cup breasts accentuated everything about her. Despite her inability to master anything to do with numbers, and thus the cause of her 2.4 GPA, she still managed to conquer virtually anything she desired. Standing 5'3, 110 lbs., blond, and built with a body made for nothing but fucking, she could have just about anything if she used it properly. But after the breakup with her long-time boyfriend, Roger, she wanted what every girl in school talked about: Kyle and his huge dick. The open rumor around school was that Kyle "serviced" several girls each week, on top of his weekend dates. Not particularly attractive per se, Kyle had a charisma and confidence about him that was not off-putting. His short-term goal in life was to fuck as many beautiful girls as possible, and he was well on his way to fucking every girl in the school at the rate this 'Don Juan' was going. Yvette considered just asking him out, but like any girl, was just on this side of shy when it came to boys. Instead, she relied on her small circle of friends, among whom two shared classes with Kyle, to let him know that Yvette wanted him, or moreover, his cock, bad. Going out with Kyle wasn't a date but rather an audition for a girl, the purpose of which was to see if Kyle wanted to fuck you again. If Yvette got the chance, she intended to make the most of it, perhaps persuading him to drop one of his "regulars" in favor of her. Yvette wasted no time in doing more "rumor" homework, speaking with every girl she could find who had ever fucked Kyle, tweaking them for tips, pointers, what he likes, is he rough, how kinky does he like it, does he make demands, such as anal sex? Does he prefer a girl to swallow, cum inside her, or what? After two weeks of furtively interviewing every girl she could find who met the criterion of "having fucked Kyle," she was left with only anecdotal information on his sex life. Yvette, determined to succeed, went to the most current source: three of the girls who were current Kyle-"regulars." They weren't jealous, but all three made fun of Yvette's enormous boobs, hinting that Kyle probably wouldn't go for a freak, laughing in jest. Nonetheless, Yvette managed to find out that Kyle approached every girl differently: he enjoyed and catered to variety more than anything, and did something different, and something kinky with every girl he ever fucked, even if the kinky was the average blowjob. When a guy is hung like Kyle, he can afford himself numerous pleasures from the kinky side of sex. Who was he to deprive himself of that? 'Surely not me, either,' Yvette thought to herself. Kyle eventually got the message, and one night, via internet chat through her screen name, "SweetnNasty," Yvette made her first date with Kyle for the following night. In spite of her weeks of research, footwork, and planning, she was immediately overcome with nervous goosebumps. Having to awake early for bad weather the next morning, Yvette decided to shower tonight. She made the shower very hot, which made her skin tingle, and her breasts swell. Despite the jokes she endured at school, she never hated her body. In fact, she liked herself most when she was naked. And her times in the shower were divine. Yvette cupped her heavy breasts under her forearms and soaped the wide nipples, watching as her nipple began to extend itself, poking out further and further under her manipulations. She squeezed her fat breasts hard, to the point of pain, and then pulled her nipples an inch from her breasts, to extend them even further. "I wonder if Kyle would like these now" she wondered aloud. Rinsing her pussy, she split her lips with a finger and spread herself, imagining what Kyle's big cock would feel like inside her. With her left hand, she inserted two fingers inside her pussy and slowly fingered her clit with her right hand, enraptured with thoughts of Kyle's cock filling her womb, expanding inside her, making her submit to his pleasure, all the while experiencing her own in ways she never imagined, especially after fucking Roger for two years. The thought of Roger distracted her pleasure, and she couldn't help but wonder why she wasted those years fucking someone with a cock that only measured 6.5 inches. One thing Kyle requires of all his girls is that they dress like girls on dates, so this meant that Yvette had to wear a dress. She picked out an azure silk dress that hugged her every curve and hopefully would extend Kyle's cock just from first sight of her. Kyle rang the doorbell and Yvette jumped up, brushing off her skirt, pulling it down almost to her thighs. Kyle, the perfect huckster, complimented her Mom and shook hands with her Dad promising to have Yvette back by 11p. (Not a hard thing to do since it was only 6p now.) Kyle wasted no time. Once inside the car, he leaned over and kissed Yvette deeply, exciting his cock by her oral sensibility. He gauged she would be a good cocksucker. He took her hand and pulled it down to the lengthening bulge growing along his right thigh in his pants. 'Jesus," god, it's huge,' she said silently to herself, though her gasp gave away her first impression. "You hold onto me while I drive," he winked as he squeezed her tiny hand around the huge bulk of cockshaft. "I would ask you to buckle up, but with those tits I'm not sure the seatbelt would wrap that far," and they both giggled. He drove twenty miles out to the lake and parked at a secluded cove. They kissed for a while and Kyle had her dress unbuttoned and down around her waist. However, getting that device she called a bra (she had to have them specially made) was another task altogether. Once he got her tit-naked, he noted not only her huge breasts alone, but her incredible nipples. They were actually like small pacifier tips. Amazing. He suckled both her breasts, and she shivered into a luxurious pleasure that came whenever any guy paid attention to her breasts. Unlike most girls with big breasts, she did not shy away from using them to get whatever she wanted. from Dad, to teachers, to boys, and from clerks. She relished the attention, for to her, these breasts were a gift. After sustained attention to her nipples, they had grown to over a quarter of an inch in length and Kyle was ready to take the next step on this first date. "Let's get out of the car," he suggested. Walking her down to the beach, the night was illuminated only by moonlight. She felt terribly exposed and awkwardly aroused by being forced to walk with her dress around her waist and her breasts exposed. But the cool night air made her nipples tingle as the soft breeze caressed them, hardening and tightening her flesh even farther. Kyle placed his arms around her and pulled her closer so that her breasts rested on his upper waist. He crushed her soft melons into his gut as he thought to himself what a divine hug she gives with those attractions. He leaned down and kissed her breasts all over, then settling on the upper left breast, he began to give her a hickey that turned red, then blue within a minute after its ministration. Yvette was in pain, but god, it felt so good. "You 'marked' me!" she said. "You get a mark every time you're with Kyle, babe. If I service you, you get marked. When the mark wears off, it's time to be serviced again is my rule." "Now, do Kyle a favor and get on your knees Yvette," he said as he gently guided her shoulders downward, her knees planting themselves in the sand. He leaned back, unbuckling his pants, then unbuttoning the jeans in a methodical manner, as if he does this all the time. Once unfastened, he dropped his pants to reveal an enormous cock, semi-hard, just hanging there. She noticed he appeared to be uncut, since the head was completely covered with foreskin. It had to be at least 10 inches, she thought, even in this state! "OH MY GOD! Kyle, Oh my god! Oh jesus, you're... you're HUGE!" "Disappointed?" "Absolutely NOT!" She laughed at his size, in an incredulous way, not to embarrass him. Yvette sat down on her legs, and laughed again, reaching up to pet his monster cock, as if it were a snake about to bite her. "No wonder all the girls want to fuck you, at least once." She leaned closer, then fell back, laughing. "Oh my god." and she nervously giggled herself backward again. "You like that?" "Holy fuck," she said as she grasped his fat shaft and pulled on it once. "It's huge, and her head dropped and she fell into another fit of laughter. "Go ahead, baby, give it a little kiss.Yvette braced the long shaft with both hands and gave it a long, loving, wet kiss. Within a minute, she was greedily sucking Kyle off, thinking she was doing a great job on him, since his cock was as hard as a rock in her mouth. However, given his immense thickness, she could only manage to get her lips about an inch further past his fat cockhead. On the rest of him, she used both her hands, but not in a fluid manner; she was concentrating more on giving him pleasure, on impressing him, so that he would want to service her weekly, maybe even dropping one of the girls in favor of her. Kyle reached forward and grasped his shaft, plopping it from Yvette's mouth loudly. He lifted the heavy shaft and silently pointed Yvette to lick the underside of his cock and to suck his balls. For her, the second part was an impossibility, since his balls were bigger than his fist, hanging tightly beneath his monstrous cockshaft. She slurped the bottom few inches of his shaft, leading her tongue onto his puffy ballsac, gently licking and tickling him with her tongue there. Leaning back, he inserted his cock into her mouth again and began to jack off his huge shaft into her mouth, letting her remain still while he worked her mouth for a while. Yvette's jaw was cramping, and a tear was forming in her left eye. She released his cock, leaned back on her knees, gulped for air, and inhaled in a sigh, hoping she would get fucked tonight. At that moment, Kyle leaned down and took both her nipples in his fingers and, with both a twisting and pulling motion, brought down great pain upon her. "OWWWhhh!!" Yvette yelped. "OOWwOWWWW!!" "MmmmmmmMmmmm, yes, baby, that's it. Let me hear you!" And then he pulled her nipples further from her tit flesh, extending them incredibly far, forcing her to bite her own teeth and growl in pain. "GGrrrrrrhhh," she growled loudly in severe pain. That very cry made his cock lurch, and it sprang up and slapped her under the chin, then whomping her nose wetly, precum smattering all over her upper right cheek. "ARRRgggghhhhhhh! YES!!" and without touching his huge manmeat, his cock erupted in a torrent of thick white cream that blasted Yvette right in the face. Making a quick decision, she opened her mouth, receiving the subsequent squirts. She counted: ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR quick, long blasts into her mouth, the last one streaking her cheek and hair. FIVE, SIX, SEVEN, EIGHT, and the cum kept coming, searing her skin with its heat. NINE, TEN, ELEVEN, TWELVE, THIRTEEN, 'Jesus, how much longer?' she thought. But Kyle's big cock kept coming at her hard and fast. FOURTEEN, FIFTEEN, SIXTEEN, SEVENTEEN, EIGHTEEN, NINETEEN, TWENTY, TWENTY-ONE, TWENTY-TWO, TWENTY-THREE, TWENTY-FOUR! Fucking Christ, twenty-four spurts of cum. She was amazed. She had NO IDEA Kyle was THIS potent. She looked down and noticed the damage. Her breasts were bruised from his pinching her nipples, and she was covered in cum, from head to waist, with both breasts dripping cum off her nipples. And she had even swallowed several of the heaviest spurts, too! "Get up," he said. "You did well tonight. Here, wait, I have a towel in the trunk. We'll get you cleaned up before leaving." "Ok. Ok." Was all Yvette could muster, using her fingers to slather off some of the thick cum on her breasts. As he left, she got up, kicking her feet free from her dress. She tasted several fingers full of cum. "Mmmm, tasty, sweet!" 'I'll be drinking more of him,' she told herself. The ride home, despite their first-date awkwardness, was not quiet. He drove about 40 miles around the lake, talking with her about school and classes, and then about servicing her, maybe even adding her to the rotation. "Yvette, I'll be honest. I like a girl who doesn't mind a little pain mixed with her pleasure. You showed me something tonight I like to see. You didn't resist me when I pulled your nipples." "I kind of liked it," she said. "Really? You're not just saying that?" "No, it was different. No guy has ever done it before." "How many guys have you been with, by the way?" "Only one. My former boyfriend, Roger." "Oh yeah? What was he like?" "Are you kidding? A total dud. Not like you! He only had about six inches," she laughed, and he joined in. "Oh, so NOW we know why you're with me on this date!" he said sarcastically, nudging her and laughing again. "We'll go out again next week, and we'll do some more then. I want you to be ready for anything, ok? You think you can handle that for me?" "Of course, I'll try anything once!" she added. "And if you like it?" "Then I'll keep doing it." "What about if only I like it?" "Then I'll keep doing it." "Good girl. I like your style, Yvette. We're going to get along just fine. I have ONE absolute rule, though, Yvette, and you have to promise that if we are to see one another again, that you must not tell anyone about us." "Ok. I won't." "No, I mean it. I like servicing the girls around school. However, I don't like ruining reputations. I like to be able to deny everything with anyone. So if you don't tell anyone, and I don't tell anyone, then anything that anyone says is just rumor, not fact, ok?" "Ok. I got it. I promise." "Good. See you at school, then!" Yvette later thought she made a good impression on him, especially swallowing some of his cum, though he did not mention that. She wanted to see him again. Meanwhile, Kyle was back to business as usual, "servicing" four other of the cutest girls in the high school, Tracie, Connie, Sarah, and Liza. Yvette would make a fifth wheel, but Kyle figured she deserved the ride. Each had a special sexual talent or trait that engendered raw animal lust in Kyle himself. For example, Tracie was extremely petite and had the tightest little girl pussy he could ever imagine for his big whopper. Connie had the unique ability to take Kyle up the ass, so anal sex was her forte. Sarah was the freak of the bunch - nothing was taboo for her. She has both nipples pierced (by the urging of Kyle), and she enjoys being nasty, even giving Kyle rim jobs before or during every blowjob. Liza was a very good gymnast at school and could do things with her body that Kyle had never seen any girl manage to do, especially in bed. Then came Yvette. Kyle's plans for Yvette turned on whether and how much pain she could endure with those huge breasts of hers. Kyle was never enamored with big breasts, but the idea of slapping Yvette's tits around every week, leaving marks on her, intrigued him greatly. He would find out more and consider further whether to add her to his "rotation" if she was open to anal sex next week. The following week came, and Yvette dressed herself to the nines in a Catholic school-girl outfit. While Kyle was not expecting the outfit, the simplicity of it caught his fancy. Kyle had a perfect arrangement for a teen - he had access to his dead grandmother's house across town as long as he kept it clean. He could study there, watch TV, even have a friend over as long as he kept it clean. Given its new king-sized bed, it was the perfect place to take the girls. Once there, he and Yvette showered, and he fell in lust (and love) with her body. God, he thought, she has it all: a tight body, a perfect pubic patch of soft brown hair, and capped by those enormously full E-cup breasts that sat on her chest like lethal weapons. They soaped each other, with her using an inordinate amount of soap on his cock, while he did the same on her tits. They laughed together. "We make the perfect couple, don't you think, Yvette? You with your huge breasts and me with my big cock!" "I'd say we do!" she enjoined. He hugged her close, and her breasts squeezed out the side of his arms, and as he picked her off the shower floor just enough to dangle her feet, his fat cock slipped right up and firmly seated its shaft against her pussy mound. They kissed in a heat that should only be put on film, to say the least: these were two beautiful, awesome physical specimens, and we could certainly guess what their children would be like - all the boys would be hung like Dad and all the girls would be endowed like Mom! Kyle snuck a finger into the crack of her ass and squeezed it inside her sphincter. She twitched, moaning into his mouth, but did not resist. 'That's a good sign,' Kyle thought. The two of them rinsed each other off and then sensuously toweled each other's bodies dry before Kyle chased her and flipped her onto the big bed. "You're going to get it now, girl!" "Oh, I am, am I? Just 'what' is it I'm going to get?" "THIS!" as he split her thighs and slapped his huge cock onto her pussy and up past her belly button. "Ewwwiii yesss!!" she squealed in delight, and in trepidation, anxious to know what it would be like to be fucked by Kyle, the biggest stud at school. He peeled his foreskin back, revealing a precum-soaked and dripping cockhead that he slathered up and down her pussy lips, readying her entrance for his meat. Yvette began hyperventilating, but Kyle reminded her to relax and it wouldn't leave her so sore tomorrow. He gently slipped in the first inch of cockhead into her, slicing her pussy lips very wide to meet his thickness. She gasped in amazement at his member. Kyle held himself there for a moment, letting her get used to his thickness, and then pushed a second inch in, enveloping his entire cockhead at this point. "OH GOD!" Yvette stammered and exhaled. "Easy, baby. Easy." And he pushed another two inches inside her and held it there. He noticed her thighs began to shake, and her pussy lips were fully stretched around his thick shaft. It was a beautiful sight to him. When he was 50 years old, he still wanted to be fucking young girls and seeing their reactions to his cock like this very moment."Oh, Kyle, fuck me. I want you to service me. Do whatever you want, just fuck the shit out of me!" Kyle began stroking her in and out, only using about 5-6 inches of cock, and she was already cumming, because the juices were leaking out of her pussy and down her asscheeks. 'My god, I can't believe how wet this chick is! This is great!' and he began deep stroking her to her loud, somewhat painful moans. By now, he was pumping a good 8 inches inside her, and he knew he was banging her cervix at this point, and that she was going to be extremely sore tomorrow. But he didn't care. Yvette was to be his pain toy, and she would have to get accustomed to all kinds of painful pleasures if she wanted to stay in his rotation. So he kept banging and banging and banging her pussy, slamming his cockhead into her womb, punching her cervix. She was making some painful sounds now, but even after an hour of this brutal fucking, he wasn't yet ready to cum. Instead, he flipped her on her stomach and slowly pulled his massive cock out of her, her pussy clamping down, not wanting to let him leave her depths. He leaned forward and kissed her firm asscheeks, then slipped his tongue all along her pussy lips and hovered over her tight little asshole, slipping his tongue inside her, generating a long, muffled moan from Yvette into her pillow. But he was just getting started. He raised himself up and without touching himself, planted his cocktip right into her anus. He slipped his cockhead in, spreading her asscheeks and anus mercilessly. "Mmmmphh!" she yelped into her pillow again. What a lovely sound, he thought. Her ass looked horribly distended by his huge member attacking her most private part, but Kyle liked girls who liked anal sex, and he was determined to make Yvette one of those girls. Kyle was almost ready to cum, and when he felt the cum boiling from his balls and beginning to surge through his long thick shaft, he pulled out of her ass and let his cock hold itself freely there between her asscheeks, and he began cumming. Stream after stream of hot white cum spewed forth from his cock, searing into her tender, aching flesh. The cock shot load and load straight into her asshole and straight into the slit of her pussy, fully soaking her entire pubis. He leaned back slightly, and the cock aimed itself higher and began pouring cum all over her tight little asscheeks, rivulets of cum running off them; others gathering into the small of her back in a growing puddle. After at least twenty some-odd spurts of cum, Kyle's cock was done for now, though it had hardly lost any of its erect size, still bloated from the intense fucking he had just received from his newest little bitch in rotation: Yvette. He would tell her so later. For now, though, he flipped her sore body over and straddled her waist, watching his cock extend itself between her fleshly mounds. Grabbing his cock with one hand, he began slapping his heavy meat into her breasts, bruising her tits, punching her sternum with his heavy shaft, that made loud 'SLAP' and 'SCHWACK' sounds with each blow. "Hold them up for me!" he yelled to her, and with tears running down her cheeks, she looked away as she raised her breasts high with both hands, and continued taking the beating from his cock. Sobbing as he rained down his blows, beating her breasts black and blue, she saw his cock growing harder and harder, making it more difficult for Kyle to swing it. Peeling back his long foreskin, he inserted the fat cock into her mouth, sliding it up to the edge of her throat. Yvette's eyes were wide with fear he would choke her, but he didn't. "Make it wet, for me, baby." She sucked and licked, and then cleaned him as he peeled back his foreskin which revealed a lot of precum that just dripped from his cock. Sliding down her body and splitting her thighs again, he brutally fucked the big-breasted high school girl into a quivering mass of jello. After another 30 minutes of vicious, violent sex (almost any sex with Kyle would have to be violent because of his enormous size), she rolled over and sobbed into her pillow, her entire body racked with pain and encroaching soreness. "You'll be sore tomorrow, and you'll get used to it," he remarked. "I'll take you into my rotation if you want, but on three conditions: (1) you do whatever I want, when I want; (2) you service me with rough sex; and (3) you make sure you swallow whenever I cum. GOT IT?" "Yes, Kyle, I will. I'll do it if I can be yours with the other girls," she muttered. "Good girl. Now, let's jump back in the shower, get cleaned up and go shopping. We'll go by the leather shop at the mall and get you outfitted properly for our next night out." The following day, and for several days after that, Yvette was extremely sore. She skipped school the next day because she simply couldn't walk very far, her pussy and ass was so sore from his fucking. Not to mention, her gut (cervix) was killing her. 'God,' she thought, adding, 'I hope I can get used to him. I knew he was big, but I figured he'd fuck me for 5-10 minutes like Roger, not fuck me for two hours like an animal.' Two days later at school, the only girl she told was her good friend and lab partner, Andrea, who wanted ALL the details of what Kyle was like. She spent the whole lab whispering details about his cock and how much he came and their shower, but did not share any details on the brutal fucking she was forced to endure. She was ashamed that she was the kind of girl who would let a guy use her. But then, Kyle wasn't just any guy. He was a gorgeous hunk with a cock that could put horses to shame! The End	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/56/girlsclub.txt
64,215	Shooterguy123	Friday Night Flings	Yes! Friday was finally here, and the weekend was upon me! My entire week was spent waiting for an opportunity to have some fun. Work, quite simply, bored the hell out of me. As soon as the clock hit 5 pm, I was on the way out and headed home. I did not hate my job, but it certainly was not what I lived for. My enjoyment came fully from other areas of my life. Shopping was one of my favorite things to do, and going to stores where sexy clothing could be obtained was a prime adventure. Tonight, I'd be on the town and looking for some hot fun. Like many prior weekends, I knew I'd find it. Once home, I quickly shed my work clothes and drew a hot bath. A bit of scented oil would make it a great end to the day. When the tub was full, I eased into it and sank up to my neck in the hot, soothing water. The scent of a floral bouquet arose from the water, and light bubbles covered the surface. I lay in the bath, soaking up the luxury. My body tingled with excitement as I daydreamed of the nights ahead. At 32, five-foot-seven, with long, naturally curly blonde hair, which at work was always in a ponytail, and deep green eyes, I had matured well. My shape was not hourglass, but it was, as they say, hot. There were many admirers of my body, and I intended to keep it that way. Okay, party over - 45 minutes of relaxation was enough. I wanted to be downtown by nine, and I'd never get there this way. I reached for the razor and made sure all the parts of my body - legs, underarms, and a neatly trimmed patch of hair below - were perfectly cared for. No slacking on care if you want to look your best. After I completed my necessary tasks, I emerged from the bath, which was rapidly cooling, and dried myself, wrapping the giant towel around me. I moved to the dressing area where the hair and facial work would be completed. My face was well-proportioned, and my features were soft. I was quite simply very feminine and cute. I released my hair from the ponytail secured to my head to keep it dry as I bathed and brushed it thoroughly. The golden locks were well past my shoulders and fell neatly around my head. It provided a soft frame for my face. One of my best features, I thought. I placed curlers in my hair to put the curls just where I wanted them. With that in process, I applied my makeup—first the light colors on my eyelids, then the mascara to darken my lashes, which were naturally long. After this, a light powder to soften my skin a little, and I was ready to begin dressing. I walked to my dresser and took out my latest sexy lingerie acquisition. The light lavender color matching bra, garter belt, and panty set would set off my hot body just perfectly. I placed the bra on and connected the hooks in the back. Then the straps over my shoulders, and my 32B breasts were adjusted for comfort in the soft and silky cups. The look was having its impact already. I was feeling the old warming in my stomach. The panty was next on, but only after a light dusting of powder. The light lacy material fit perfectly and was the perfect base for me to overlay the six-strap garter belt. Attaching it in the back, I adjusted it so the straps were perfectly aligned down the front, sides, and backs of my legs. Then I retrieved a pair of black, small-weave fishnet thigh-high stockings from my lingerie drawer and carefully placed them over my feet one by one, then bringing them up to my upper thigh where, one by one, I attached the closures from the garter belt straps that would hold my stockings taut. After all six were attached, I arose, walked into an alcove with a triple mirror, and was pleased with what I saw. My work was not done, but it sure was getting there. Oops, 7:45, better get moving. I took the curlers from my hair and brushed it gently to retain the curl. Like a charm, it fell into place and cascaded down my back past my shoulder blades when I shook my head. A little forming, and bangs were in place, providing a perfect look. I was satisfied. I moved to the closet where decisions are tough. Finally, I decided on a light off-blue blouse and a mid-thigh blue skirt. The blouse slid sexily across my skin as I put it on and buttoned it. The material was thin, and if you looked really hard, the light lavender color of my lingerie could be seen. That was okay because in the night lighting, I would just be another honey looking to get fucked. The skirt came next, and the nylon lining was cool to the touch as it slid up my silk-covered legs. There was about four inches of drop below where the garter belt straps held the silky hose in place. I made sure the blouse was in place and closed the fastener and zipper, locking the skirt in place snugly around my body. The skirt really showed off my narrow midsection and made a nice look around my hips. The material was just thick enough to disguise the straps snugging up my hose. My blouse, now held down by the skirt, made my firm breasts stand out behind the thin material. The last thing I needed was shoes. I selected a pair of black three-inch heel pumps. Once on my feet, I was there. Last item, a moderate red lipstick, and my pouty little mouth was complete. A slow gaze in the mirror, and I knew somebody would be having me for delight tonight! The drive to one of my favorite night spots in the city took about 35 minutes. I got there just after 9:30, and the place was alive already. There were lots of people there and several hot-looking guys. I took a seat in a dimly lit area at the bar, near a rear corner. I had discovered long ago that this was the best place to talk and have some fun if I wanted to start it. It was not long before I was noted, and a gentleman of about 45 years of age approached and asked if I would like a drink. I accepted, and my new acquaintance took up a place on the barstool next to me. We chatted and exchanged names. His name was Ed, and I told him I was Lorraine and happy to meet him. After some small talk, I discovered Ed was in town for a sales meeting and wondered what the town had to offer for fun. His grin told me he wanted sex and nothing else would be fun. I explained that there were many things to do, and I might be able to assist him. Ed was appreciative and moved his stool a little away from the bar and closer to me. By this time, we were almost facing and only a few feet apart. We continued to talk, and Ed told me he was married and lived in Pennsylvania, near some city that was known for high-quality watch making. Personally, he sold high-tensile strength steel. I was beginning to tell him about my job at the hospital when I caught his gaze down to my legs. My skirt had ridden up on my right leg just enough to let the end of the garter strap show. Ed's gaze caught that, and he had a pleasing look on his face. I explained I was embarrassed, and he told me not to be. His wife wore stupid pantyhose, and he hated them. Hot, sexy lingerie was a huge turn-on for him, and he loved it. He wanted to know if I would dance with him, and I readily agreed at the next slow song they played. On the floor, I fell into Ed's arms. His body moved to mine, and lost in the crowd on the floor, hands began to roam a little. As we danced, I could feel his muscular arms and body as much as he could feel my nicely encased breasts on his chest. His hands wandered down my back as we swayed to the music and eventually found their way to my ass, where Ed's hands gripped my tight buns and sent chills through my spine. From the front, I could tell he was a man of steel. In fact, it felt as if he brought some with him in his trousers. The evening continued with Ed and I dancing and drinking until about 12:15 in the morning. Ed said that he had had enough of this and wanted to take me to his room in the hotel nearby. I asked what he had on his mind and was rewarded with "some hot sex." Okay, I was up for that! When we arrived at his hotel, I was the recipient of several stares and some admiring glances, even a catcall from somewhere rang out. No matter, I knew where I was headed, and the party was private. At Ed's room, he quickly ushered me to the bed, where a long, passionate kiss was immediate. Our tongues wrestled, and I finally felt his hand eagerly searching out my breasts. That felt so good as he massaged the B-cup globes and pinched my nipples lightly. I was warming up fast and needed to have something for me. I reached down and grasped what until now only my stomach had felt. His cock was huge! I had to see this one up close. I slid down the bed and was assisted in getting his trousers off. Sticking through his boxers was a cock not less than nine inches long and at least two and a half inches in diameter. The head was only slightly larger and very nicely formed.Without hesitation, I began to suck his giant member. As I did, my clothes came off, and I was left in a bra, garterbelt, and stockings in seconds. I removed my bra, and Ed's hands went to my nipples immediately. He tweaked them, making me shudder all over. I resumed trying to stuff his cock down my throat and stroked the shaft of that tool while I did. It was only about four minutes before my reward was granted. Ed groaned, shoved his hips upward, and let loose a torrent of hot cum. I felt his cock head expand as he exploded into my mouth. My lips felt the pulsing of his cock each time muscle contractions forced more of his pent-up juice from within. Slowly, the rush of his cum subsided. I continued to lick his cock and clean my lips with my tongue until every last drop was in my stomach. His juices were almost sweet and certainly not like the other men's cum that had passed my lips. Because his cock was super sensitive now, Ed pulled me close to him. He began to suck and play with my breasts freely now, and I moaned in delight. "Give me ten minutes, and I'll be hard again," Ed said. "Then I am going to fuck you good!" At that point, I knew I had to take control or likely be killed, so I said, "I would love to have your cock buried in me, but it's not a good time if you know what I mean." Ed replied, "I have fucked a lot of women and some virgins; blood is not going to scare me out of giving you some cock." "Well, we'll see," I said, knowing full well it was not going to happen. The lights were off except for the bathroom nightlight, and I made an excuse to go to the bathroom. Once inside, I removed my panties and retrieved some personal lubricant from my clutch. As I came back into the room, my breasts stiffened from the cool air, and Ed exclaimed, "Damn, you are hot with your breasts pointing out and in nothing but stockings and garterbelt." "Thank you," I replied as I climbed back into bed. "I have decided to give you something special. Something very special," I said. With that, I moved down and began to suck that deflated cock. It only took a few minutes to get the I-beam of steel man rising. When fully hard, I began to apply the lubricant to Ed's monster and at the same time, applied a little to my butt crack and backdoor opening. Ed realized what was going to be happening and told me to get on all fours. I said, "No way, mister, I will control how much of that cock and how fast I take it. You'd kill me otherwise." Ed laughed and lay back on the bed again. I straddled him and let the tips of my nipples drag on his chest. He groaned with pleasure, groaning louder as the tip of his cock touched my ass cheeks. Slowly, I moved downward, positioning myself so my tight ass opening was moving into alignment with his cock's head. I shuddered at the thought of taking that monster in my ass when I felt the lubricated tip touch the puckered spot. I had experienced men in my ass before, but none as big as this. "Don't you dare try to shove that in me," I said, as Ed tried to push. "I'll do it," I said. Ed relaxed, and I moved a little further down. At this point, I felt the tip of his cock pushing solidly against my opening. I slowly pushed and felt the slow expansion as the tip tried to get into me. Pulling forward slightly, then rocking backwards, I continued the assault on my hole as it relaxed and let more of the head's diameter into my body. After about five minutes, I had become feverish with desire. I needed to be fucked and was determined to get this cock in my ass. Ed needed it, but not as much as I did. The wanton desire made me exert extra pressure on my next backward movement. The pain was almost intolerable. I felt the searing heat in my body, nausea in my stomach, and stretching of my hole as the head of Ed's cock popped past my hole and into my body. "Fuck!" I yelled, "Don't move!" I remained in this position for a few moments, breathing deeply as if delivering a child while my bodily alarms stopped reacting to this ripping apart sensation. I squeezed my anal muscles to try and relax them, and it had some positive impact. The pain was subsiding, and I was contemplating my next actions. Slowly, I moved to my knees and assumed a partial sitting position directly above Ed's crotch. From this position, I slowly began to ease down on that piece of meat. Thank God for the lubricant I had, or this would never happen. About one inch of the shaft slid into my body, and then I slowly raised myself up a bit. I repeated this process over and over as Ed's cock filled my body. Fifteen minutes after starting, I was fully impaled on a trophy cock if there ever was one. My ass cheeks were solidly onto Ed's crotch, and his cock, I think, lodged in the base of my chest area. I had never felt so full. Ed said, "My God, you got it in all the way, and I am fucking ready to cum again almost." Well, that set me off, and I began pumping up and down, each stroke feeling a little better than the last. Soon, we were rocking hard as he fucked up, and I fucked downward onto his meat. I was rewarded as he shoved upward and grunted as he unleashed his next load into me. I could almost feel it splashing into my bowels as he pumped his seed into my guts. When he completed, I slowly lay down on him, and as his blood-engorged cock deflated, it pulled from my ass. I was done. No more fucking for me tonight. I lay on Ed's chest for a few moments and heard him say, "Stay all night, and I'll put this in your cunt too!" I told Ed that I could not stay and actually had to leave soon. I went to the bathroom where I placed a cold washcloth on my ass and cleaned the lubricant residue off of me. There were a few spots of blood on the cloth when I rinsed it, but after taking that cock, I was glad not to need a transfusion. I got dressed and went back out to where Ed still lay on the bed. As I did, I noticed several large globs of cum on the floor. Snickering, I thought that there was no way my ass was going to shrink back down for months! "That was fucking fantastic! You are one hot woman! I could only wish my wife would do half what you did tonight," Ed said. "Well, tell her what we did and tell her you'll do it again with someone else if she doesn't," I whispered. I kissed Ed goodbye, put on my heels, and walked out of his room. When I got to my car and began driving home, I thought how it was not too bad. Being born with no vaginal passage and no penis except a tiny opening through which I could pee had been overcome by my more feminine hormones. I sported little body hair, no facial hair, and with hormones, had grown a nice pair of boobs. I looked feminine and acted and talked feminine. All I needed was an opportunity to try to be a woman, and I learned early in my teens how to do that. When I moved on my own, to a town where I was unknown, I became a woman. And as long as a cock gets to fuck something, men will never care what it is. As long as I get to fuck something, I'll be happy. But right now, my ass is killing me. It's a good killing though. END	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/53/friday.txt
64,671	Snow Ghost ([email protected])	Alexis Plays Missile Zapper	Young Alexis is caught trying to shoplift again and has to play a computer game to avoid the police being called. She agrees, after all, how bad can a computer game be? (MMf-teen, ped, voy, mast) Alexis walked through the long, crowded hallways of the mall. Her heart was beating fast. This was a "new" mall for her, not the one she normally hung out in. But after her adventure last week, getting caught trying to steal the vibrator, given the choice by the clerk to strip and let him watch her use it or get turned in to the police, she wanted to stay away from her regular mall for a while. Not that she minded when he ended up licking her pussy, in fact, as soon as she got home, she had stripped and masturbated like crazy remembering how great it had felt. But she didn't want the clerk to think she was just there to get licked. After all, a girl had to have SOME standards! She was here because she had heard about a game, "The Sims". You created computer-generated people on the computer and control them. In the "over the counter" game, the "people" were all dressed, their clothes disappeared when they took a shower or got in the bathtub, but the program automatically pixelates out the sex organs. BUT, she had found some "fixes" on the net that removed the pixelates and showed the computer-generated bodies nude and gave them men hard cocks and the women pubic hair, so she really wanted the game. She had listened to the other girls talking in school about how easy it was to shoplift, she had reviewed what she had done wrong last week, that ended up with her getting caught, and she had it figured out. It would be easy, now that she knew what she was doing. She wandered into the software store, looking bored as she casually looked over the game selections. Then she picked up "The Sims." DAMN, it was expensive, almost $50. She checked its weight. Yes, there was a game in the box. She knew that sometimes, for the real expensive games, the store only put empty display boxes out, and didn't put the game disk in until someone was at the register actually buying it. She also looked to see a security alarm tag. It didn't have one! As she was putting the box back in the rack, she accidentally knocked it down, and a half dozen other games with it, all over the floor. In her hurry to get them picked up and put back, she dropped a couple a second time. She very quickly slipped the Sims game in her purse. It was a move she had been practicing all week, until she had it perfect. She had done it so fast, the clerk, who was busy trying not to step on customers' toes on his way to get to help pick up, never had the chance to notice. To throw the poor guy off balance even further, Alexis stood up, when he got to her; she bent over and picked up the last two boxes, letting him get a good look at her braless tits. AND her excitement-stiffened nipples. She apologized like crazy, telling him what a klutz she was, shaking her head at her own clumsiness, trying to get her too-firm tits to shake for him a bit as well. He had gotten a good look at her tits, she was sure of that from the embarrassed blush on his face. He was so distracted from stealing a glimpse of her tits, he wasn't thinking at all about what SHE might be stealing! Alexis apologized once more and walked out the store. And the damn alarm buzzer went off! Immediately, her stomach started to churn, she felt sick, she almost fainted. The clerk walked up to her and told her to come back in the store. Weakly, with shaking knees, she followed him to the back room. There was already one man in the room, obviously the store manager, now joined by the sales clerk who had gotten the nice view of her tits. They told her to empty her purse on the table. Alexis was numb with fear, again. How could she put herself right back in this situation? She reached in her purse and took out the Sims game box, put it on the table. "Empty everything out, please." The "please" was not a request, but an order. "We usually find things from other stores too, so everything." Alexis did as she was told. Fortunately, this time, they were wrong, there wasn't much in the purse, certainly nothing from other stores. She had kept her purse mostly empty on purpose today, to make it simpler to hide the game box, as she wasn't sure exactly how big it would be. The store manager picked it up and looked at the game. "For some reason, The Sims is really popular with teenagers, can't figure out why." Alexis had to bite her tongue to keep from telling him why. The manager and the clerk moved to one corner of the room and began talking in whispers. Alexis didn't even consider trying to jump up and run out, she had heard the door lock when they came in. She wondered if they were planning on offering her "a way out of this" too, like the other clerk had done. And what she would have to do this time? They returned to the desk, sat down and stared at her for a few minutes. The store manager picked up the game box again. "You know, this game is over $50?" "That makes it petty larceny, if we call the police and turn you in, you are in real trouble." "The cops, the courts, your folks having to get a lawyer." "And you will have a juvenile record." Alexis nodded her head, mechanically. Her stomach was too churned up for her to talk much. "Or there could be another way out of this for you." Alexis let her head drop a bit lower. This was it, she was expecting it. What would it be? Suck both their cocks, let them both fuck her? "You can play one game of Missile Zapper, your choice." Alexis looked up, confused. "Missile Zapper?" She tried to make sense of that. What computer game could be punishment for stealing? Unless they were trying to mess with her head and were referring to the "missiles" they had inside their pants. The 14-year-old was SURE the guys would like her to play with those missiles. She had to avoid the police, and avoid her parents finding out. And after what she had done just a week ago... "All right, I'll play the computer game." The two guys were suddenly all business. One went to a filing cabinet and took out a computer disk box; the other pulled a chair back from a computer and monitor. The clerk was already in front of the computer, but it was a "game" like Alexis had never seen. And it worried her. There was a USB connection, the cord ended in some very un-computer-like game gadgets. The main USB cable split, one wire splitting again, and ending in two small suction cup devices, in fact, they looked like the plastic nipples from a baby bottle. The other end of the cord, Alexis didn't believe it; it ran into the end of a vibrator! The 14-year-old began to have second thoughts about this "game", but the store manager wasn't going to let her back down now. "You set in that chair, but take your clothes off first." "What!?" She knew what she had heard him say, she was almost expecting to have to take her clothes off, but it still surprised her, how casually he said it. Alexis didn't argue, she simply took off her sneakers and socks, followed quickly by her t-shirt and shorts. Better to get it over with quickly rather than let the two guys have a drawn-out, slow strip show. "Damn, very nice, girl." the manager nodded and smiled. The clerk nodded. "I knew she had a great rack when she gave me a down-blouse view." Alexis sat down, naked, in the chair. The manager handed her the small plastic nipples. "Put these over yours." The teenager sat there looking at them for a moment. She had expected that they would want to "put them on" her themselves. Then she realized, they weren't going to risk touching her, in case she told the cops. And maybe they got an added thrill watching her humiliate herself in front of them. Whatever the reason, she took the first cap and stretched it a bit, then put it over one of her nipples. It felt weird, and stimulating too. She quickly slipped the second cup over her other nipple. They handed her the dildo without comment, and Alexis blushed as she took it, spread her legs and slipped it inside herself. She had to admit, it felt good. Even the cool metal against her hot twat felt good. Then the manager locked one end of a pair of handcuffs to a bracket on the table, the other end around her wrist. He did the same with the second pair. She had enough movement to operate the firing controls fine, but not much. The game started, a really simple game, just some small "rockets" being fired from a "space ship" towards the "space ship" Alexis was defending. Her "lasers" were controlled by the joystick and fire buttons. She shot the first missile down, and jumped as tiny electrical currents flowed across her nipples and into her pussy nerve endings.Not electrical shocks really, but a very stimulating, electrical tingling. A tingling that made it difficult to concentrate on the game. Alexis shot down another missile, and the slight tingling got a tiny bit stronger. She could feel a light coating of sweat over her body as it responded to the stimulation. But it was distracting her, she just managed to shoot down the next missile before it hit her "ship". Again, the slight tingling coursed through her nipples and twat. Involuntarily, she rubbed her thighs together, trying to move the dildo in her cunt. She had let her attention drift off the game, the next missile hit her ship. She yelped this time, a current of a totally different strength zapped her nipples and pussy. It stung, but made her pussy muscles twitch like mad, she wanted to finger her cunt so bad, to relieve it. She had never had to touch herself so badly before. She had been horny before, in fact, sometimes it seemed like she was ALWAYS horny, but nothing like the spasming her pussy was doing now. She had let her attention drift again, and another missile "hit" her ship. Another twat twitching, nipple prickling charge shot through her. She was not really being hurt, just driven crazy by the stimulation to her most delicate zones. She supposed, she thought lewdly, she should be grateful they didn't have anything to stick up her ass and zap her there! She was grateful the missiles were coming in so slowly, in her distracted state, it was really difficult for her to pay attention to the damn game. Sweat was running down her forehead, down her backbone, into her ass crack. She could feel how wet the chair had gotten from her leaking cunt. The office was going to smell like her pussy for a week! Alexis had forgotten about the two guys in the room, she took a quick glance, they were both sitting there, watching her, with huge grins on their faces. And probably huge boners in their pants! She was soooooo close to pulling off the nipple cups and taking out the vibrator and fucking them both right there. But the teenager doubted their cocks could provide the kind of feelings the game was. Her cunt muscles were twitching so bad, it actually felt like they were trying to chew on the damn vibrator! Another missile got through, then another, she was so close to cumming from the action of her twat, but somehow, she couldn't. Each successive missile hit, each successive electrical zap, seemed to drive her closer to an orgasm, without actually giving her one! She was in a torment of sexual pleasure, but not able to complete it! Then she realized, she had no idea how long the game lasted! How many missiles were there going to be fired at her? How many times was her pussy going to get zapped? She really didn't know how much more she could take, her breathing was ragged, in gasps, it was impossible to pay any attention to the game now, and her world was one stimulation charge after another. But with her hands cuffed, she couldn't get anywhere near her cunt! The fourteen-year-old lost all track of time, it was impossible to even think. She just hovered on the edge of an amazing orgasm, without reaching it. She didn't realize it, but she had stopped using the joystick as a joystick, and was stroking it, like she was jerking off a cock. Tears were running down her cheeks, mixing in with the sweat as they dropped onto her tits. They continued running down to mix with her pussy juice soaking the chair. Then suddenly, with no warning, they shut the game off. The teenage girl's body screamed for the stimulation to continue, even if no sound came from her throat. The store manager and the clerk were both chuckling. "I think she paid her debt to society, don't you?" They made a few more rude jokes, and then let her out of the handcuffs. Her one hand went immediately to her pussy, even with them two of them watching, she couldn't help finger her cunt. The manager tossed her her clothes. "No time for that now, the mall closes in 8 minutes, you got that long to get dressed and catch the bus." "Your pussy will keep twitching and snapping until you masturbate. Then it will fade, there is no permanent damage, the electrical stimulus is very carefully adjusted. "I can't wait till I get home, I need to cum NOW," she wailed. "Well, unless you plan on walking home, or getting a ride, you better wait till later, and get your ass moving before the bus leaves. Alexis was in a frenzy as she pulled her clothes on, glad she did not wear anything with buttons, to slow her down. She managed to dress, but before she even got out of the store, the crotch of her shorts was wet. On trembling legs, she rushed to the bus stop and just made it in time. The bus was pretty full, no chance here to finger and relieve her twitching twat. She wondered if she really could make it till she got home. She nearly wailed in grief as she realized, she had a much longer ride today than normal, this mall was a lot further away! The teenage girl clenched her fists and bit her lip as she prepared for the longest 1/2 hour bus ride of her life.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/58/alexis.txt
64,827	Oldfart ([email protected])	I Live My Life Between Your Legs	You tilt your head and wink at me, Your smile proposes fun. I nod, you turn and walk away, I follow, on the run. By now I know the plot we play, You shove the bedroom door. The room is clean, the bed is made, A rug protects the floor. We stand and lick and suck and smooch On lip and cheek and chin. I bite your ear, you turn your mouth And suck my wet tongue in. We play until I hear you beg And writhe within my grasp. You touch me down between my legs, You giggle, sigh and gasp. You spin and sit back on the bed, Your shoes slide to the rug. You lift your top off o'er your head, Your bra, too, with a shrug. You shove your skirt down just a bit, Pull it and panties off. Your shaven, pink and glistening slit Expands and gleams, so soft. I shed my shirt, and then each boot, My jeans and jock go too. I'm standing naked head to foot And staring down at you. You purse your lips all red and puffed And send me up a kiss. And then lean back and stroke your skin As if to offer this. You spread your knees, I kneel between And breathe deep as I can. A subtle scent engulfs my face, I hunger like a man. I kiss your clit and dip my tongue Into your lovely space. I lap you up, you fill my mouth With welcome to this place. I drink you deep into my gorge, An essence that I crave. Your body's mine as mine is yours, A bliss our lives do save. You shudder once, and then again And cry out like a bird. You pull my head against your skin, Your passion mine does gird. You come with glee, I growl now With lust and prowess strong. My cock is aching, pointing up, It's stiff and hard and long. I stand and stare as it ascends, It seems to know the way. We touch, you sigh, and still it wends, "Oh, God!" I hear you say. It disappears, so sweet, so slow, Its weight and warmth you seize. Into the place where it should go, A haven meant for me. Pulled back, some changes I can see With wetness now adorned. A wetness that you grant to me, From which my lust is born. I thrust again, much harder now, You grunt but not in pain. You grab me and you pull me down, Then I stand up again. I push and plunge into your wet, Soft welcoming insides. I feel the pressure building, yet I cannot just abide. My pleasure peaks, I feel the rush Of love's ecstatic state. I tense, I stop and then I thrust, My heart, my soul, my mate. There is a time, there is a place That's neither when nor where. And self is lost and love is gained When you and I join there. My pulses pour into your womb, Or so I like to think. Your cunt lets go and then consumes As if to take a drink. I give you all that I can give, My resources now low. I have no energy to leave And never want to go. You curl my hair and kiss my head, You squirm as I get soft. I mouth your breasts and then you press And tell me to get off. I kiss your nips and lift myself, My heartbeat slowing down. I look at you, so flushed, so soft, So very much my own. As I slip out, you smile at me And raise a weary arm. I pull you up, you hug my hips, Your body glowing warm. You work your way up to my chest, Lips tease the hairs and skin. You nest my cock between your breasts, It starts to rise again. Your mouth consumes my swollen stake, Your tongue swirls round and round. I pulse, not much, I almost ache, I sense you drink me down. You stand with smugness and with pride, Your radiance enhanced. You don your bra, clothes by your side, And I put on my pants. You pull your panties up your legs And I zip up my jeans. Once clothed, we leave the idle room Until we come again.	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/58/ilivemylife.txt
64,924	Ickric ([email protected])	Senility	You know when you are getting on a bit when sex becomes some distant memory, like toothache or a favorite pair of shoes. You can recall the pain and the comfort, yet you cannot recollect quite why. It's almost like looking at a road map of a city and having a vague idea of your location while still being completely lost. You recall some of the faces and sometimes, even names of people, although you are very much uncertain if the name is correct for each face, but it's a start! You remember some of the good points, but maybe you remember the halitosis, rhinorrhea, or hyperhidrosis more so. Vague flickers of shadows in the darkness, flesh against flesh, body parts in mouths, yet these days, those images refer mostly to your last visit to the zoo. Heavy breathing in bed nowadays is mostly down to emphysema, and you get more comfort from a hot water bottle than a partner. The tablets you take at bedtime are not Viagra but warfarin. Doing drugs is not the abuse of Lysergic Acid or Cocaine, it is more likely to include the use of Paracetamol, Diazepam, and Propranolol! Dressing for bed no longer involves anything made from rubber, other than incontinence knickers, and the grandchildren use your or your partner's bra as a catapult for lobbing house bricks across the neighborhood. Your partner can now run their tongue across your teeth without you even having to be in the same room, thanks to a glass of water and some Steradent! In the rare event of you and your partner being intimate, it can still be just as exciting as it was all those decades ago. One-night stands or role-playing, pretending your partner is someone else, is just the same as senile sex, mostly because you spend much of the time trying to recollect your partner's name! The moans and groans are not those of lust, but of aching limbs and failing joints. Kissing is akin to performing CPR, and the silk sheets you used to romp around on are now thick, cotton sheets with incontinence pads beneath. Wet patches suddenly have totally different meanings to you. What is more, you become afraid of things that are stiff, as you still believe it is the first signs of rigor mortis, which is generally unhealthy! You wonder why every time you go to the bathroom at night, the light switches on automatically, every time you open the door, until you realize that you have been using the fridge as your toilet for the last few months. Suddenly, it dawns on you why the milk has tasted odd recently. Senility is when you can remember the war like it was yesterday, but you are having trouble remembering what you had for breakfast, which was less than an hour ago. Suddenly, the lyrics of the Fred Wedlock song, "The Oldest Swinger in Town," all begin to make sense. Romance is still within your psyche, however, and when you and your partner go for a walk, you make a point of holding their hand. There is a hidden agenda, however, as you need to hold their hand because if you lost them, you would not be able to remember the way back home again on your own! At last, after decades of being together, you have found peace and harmony within your own relationship. Arguments are a thing of the past, and life is serene. So why has it taken so many years to reach this stage? The answer is very simple. There can be no confrontation if there are no areas you disagree on. All these years, you have been arguing, protesting your innocence against claims of negligence, hostility, or arrogance. Now, your memory is so poor that if your partner accuses you of having done something wrong, you are happy to accept blame as you are unable to remember if they are right or not! They say that with old age, two things happen. The first is the onset of senile dementia, the loss of memory and with it, your marbles. Sadly, I cannot remember what the second thing was! You find that just going to the toilet or examining yourself can be an orgasmic experience if you have a bout of the shakes at the same time. Deliberate masturbation is weird as the loss of sensation in your hands feels like someone else is doing it to you! Trying to look young involves hair dye (blue), exercise (with a zimmer frame), and perfume (based around palm of violets or lavender). Senility is when you can go shopping for clothes at supermarkets and you believe that demob suits are still in vogue. You can now wear the furry, zip-up slippers you used to tease your grandparents about, and you find Arran cardigans comfortable. And once you are all dolled up, you want to go out on the pull to the local Derby and Joan club, dressed to kill in your surgical stockings and thermal undies. You have concerns that if you found a partner who was prepared to get naked for you, if they invited you to have a stroke, you'd probably have a clinical stroke instead. You have become aware that Paramedics use KY Jelly to lubricate the tracheal tubes when you have stopped breathing, and it dawns on you that there were other reasons why the substance was invented in the first place! But you still fear the unknown. Having a sexual partner could be fatal at your age. You can remember what to do, but you have forgotten in which order. Who swallows what? Is pregnancy still a concern? Are there too many flaps and folds to navigate? Do you need a satnav to negotiate your partner's body? Does the smell of urine make you horny? They say that sex improves with age, so by now, you should be a world authority on the subject, yet you have the same insecurities as you had in your adolescent years. Can puberty really hit twice? And yet, there is still worse to come. Once you reach this point of senility, there is only one thing left to do. Become a politician!	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/59/senility.txt
65,017	Mystress May	Worship Me	You walk in, drop to your knees Crawl to My feet and worship Me. So proud I am of what you've become Building you with each leather caress. So proud I am of what I have done Creating you... My perfect pet. You kneel so still, need not be bound A whistle from the crop... you tense Leather meets flesh, you make no sound In pain you've found your lover's kiss Taking pride in raping you My phallus forcing into you Let go, sweet boy... enjoy this pain Below My boot, where you exist Sparks from My Wand across your flesh Yes, My doll, you belong to Me I'll burn My mark onto your flesh For you to savor in solitude Shower Me with adoration Hand to Me all control Give Me trust as I give you My little slut and yet My friend When you're weak lean on Me Becoming Mine will set you free My hand inside I stretch you wide The heat of you envelops Me Your muscles tense around My wrist Open your soul I'll set you free My knuckles hit induce sensation you know that you must hold it in I give the word and you explode Viscous pledge you belong to Me My little slut I'll set you free No longer empty Nor out of balance We live in symbiotic harmony	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/59/worshipme.txt
65,504	Pinky	Special Education	You might have thought my job teaching English at a boy's boarding school was rather boring and tedious. Especially for a woman of my obvious talent and ability. That's exactly what I thought when I started. It was my first teaching job out of college, and the only one I could get due to the pitiful job market. I had to work very hard to get it, though, and I wanted to make the most of it. But yes, it certainly was boring. In order to make it more interesting, I started wearing shorter skirts, higher heels, and sexier makeup from time to time, and watching the boys' reactions. The lustful looks on their faces, and watching them try to hide the bulges in their pants helped me get through the day. I would experiment with different makeup color schemes, perfumes, skirt styles and lengths, and shades of pantyhose, to see what effect they'd have on my young cadets. Over time, I found myself getting more and more extreme in order to keep things interesting. Eventually, I discovered that I could use my teasing to elicit cooperation and obedience from the more unruly types. If I sat down in front of the class beside my desk, I would see almost everyone's eyes drawn to my legs, waiting for a peek up my skirt. If I crouched down next to one of the boys and let my legs part just a little bit, I was effectively able to command his full attention. Often when I had a boy in detention, I would notice his attention would follow the movement of my ass and legs. And if I moved around the office, getting files from cabinets and writing the next day's lessons on the chalkboard, his eyes would follow me, longing for a glimpse of my sacred panty crotch. One day I decided to play with a student one on one, by keeping him after class and teasing him. I trained him methodically to obey me, by subliminal means. I gave him instructions to follow, and whenever I saw him carrying them out I would grant him peeks further and further up my skirt. When he stopped working, the show stopped. Eventually I had him working steadily for me, grading papers, doing my filing and helping me with any other duties I saw fit to give him. I tried my approach privately on every boy in the class, before I decided to try it in prime time. I had discovered there were some boys who didn't respond to my system of rewards. I quickly had them transferred to other classes, as I had no room for rebels. I was left with a class full of obedient leg watchers, and went about educating them as no other teacher could. Now, at the beginning of every semester I go through the same weeding process, after which I am able to manage my class extremely well. I could even say I enjoy my job now, and that since discovering this new teaching method it has never been boring. When I have the whole class in front of me, there is nothing like the power I feel running me. Power over these boys, who are almost men, and who are ultimately bound to be leaders in our community. Power to addict them to my legs and ass, and to use my charms to bend their wills to mine. Power to teach them first hand what a woman can do, so they'll never again think of themselves as superior. Yes, when they leave my class they know who's boss. They know they've been educated, by whom and for what purpose. They know who their favorite teacher is. They know why they enthusiastically breezed through my class and barely scraped through the others with yawns. They know, and they are happy, and they tell me so. I take my role as an educator very seriously. If I didn't feel my approach was working, I wouldn't keep using it. But the fact is that it does work, and it works well; and there is ample proof out there in our community, now that I've successfully taught five years of boarding school graduates. In my psychology classes in college, lots of lip service was given to positive reinforcement as an educational tool. But so few actually used it for anything meaningful. Now that I'm out of college and teaching students in the real world, I've hit pay dirt with one of the most powerful techniques to come along this century, and I'm loving it! I recently decided to see exactly how far I could go using my new technique to solve behavior problems, with one special student in my most difficult class. I picked Sammy because he really seemed to need guidance more than the other boys. He was rowdier and more belligerent, and others seemed to follow his lead. I figured that if I could get his behavior under control and make an example of him, I would have an easier time managing the rest of the class. One day I kept him after class to discuss his performance. I made sure everyone else was gone, and I quietly closed and locked the door. I circled my prey and came up from behind him, putting my hand gently on his shoulder. "Sammy, there's something I need to talk with you about," I opened. "I'm concerned that you've lost your focus in class, perhaps even in life." "Don't be ridiculous!" he protested, as he turned his head around to face me. "I'm not being ridiculous, young man, and face front when I'm talking to you!" I snapped back. He turned back around, to face front, only slightly ashamed by the exchange. "Now, I know how hard it's been for you to concentrate in class." "It has not!" he protested again, and jerked his head around to face me again. "Well, it's obvious to me that you have problems remembering simple instructions," I insisted. "Now face front and KEEP facing front!" "Sorry, Ma'am," he said, and turned back around to face front. I walked in front of him, keeping my miniskirted body very close so he could almost smell me, and leaned over looking him straight in the eye. "I want to trust you. I want to learn to trust you. I want you to teach me that I can trust you. Can you do that for me?" I was talking sweetly and gently now. Trying not to look at my bosom, which was right in his face, he stammered "I-I'll t-t-try, Ma'am." "Thank you, Sammy. I really appreciate that." And I meant it. I sat down in a chair across from him, and let my legs part ever so slightly. I knew he couldn't see all the way up, but I also knew he could see far enough that it would draw his attention. It did. "Sammy," I began, "I know you're a very smart boy, possibly one of the brightest I've ever taught. Why is it that you have so much trouble concentrating in class?" As I said this, I leaned forward and let my knees part just a little bit more. His eyes kept with the program. "Well, I..." he tried to answer, catching himself and shifting his eyes back up to meet mine. I pretended to notice something was going on, but not to know what. "Am I distracting you somehow without realizing it?" "Huh?" he said, noticeably startled that I didn't seem to notice his eyes on my legs a moment ago. "Distracting me?" "Well, you seem uncomfortable around me right now," I said as I shifted my position slightly, opening and then closing my knees quickly, to see how well his eyes were trained to follow the display. "I'm not, err, well I, uh..." he stammered. I knew his boyish resolve was weakening, and would be putty in my hands very soon. "Well, some boys complain that my short skirts and pretty legs distract them from my lessons," I said as I looked down at my own legs and motioned to them with my well-polished nails. His eyes obediently followed. "Is this what's happening with you? I really need to know," I added, looking back up at him, trying to make eye contact. As I did, I casually swung one leg over the other, giving him another brief glimpse if his eyes were quick enough. He tried not to look, of course, and when he couldn't help himself he tried to conceal the rapid movement of his eyes to catch the glimpse. He replied sheepishly, looking away to avoid eye contact, "N-no, of c-course not." I spoke sweetly now, asking, "My pretty legs don't distract you then?" "I said they don't, and I meant it," he said, garnering enough strength to look me in the eye this time. "I'm not sure I believe you, Sammy," I said, sounding like I really wanted to. "I mean, when I do this," I went on inquisitively, slowly re-crossing my legs to taunt him, "your eyes don't wander down to my legs?" He tried to hold his gaze. "Or when I do this?" I asked, taunting him further by letting my uncrossing my legs and letting them fall open a bit more than before. His eyes wandered just for an instant, but it was the irrefutable break in his armor I was maneuvering for. "There, you see?" I insisted. "You ARE looking at my legs, just like I said." "B-but you just..." "But I just WHAT?" I interrupted. "You're looking at my legs. Admit it!" "N-no I'm not."You're just trying to confuse me." "Oh, am I?" I asked playfully as I slowly re-crossed my legs, leaving my panty crotch in full view for a full second. He looked down at my legs again and took in the whole view. "Y-yes, you are. You're trying to trap me." "I don't think that's so hard, young man, considering you're already so eager to look at my lovely legs. You see, whenever I cross my legs like this" (which I did as I was speaking), "your eyes just naturally seem to gravitate toward them. It's no trap making you look; it's what you WANT to do, if you'd just stop fighting it." I made this sound almost like an invitation. "I d-do not," he asserted in a meager attempt to protest. I could tell his will was weakening. "Here, Sammy," I said, offering a solution. "Let me see if you're right." I uncrossed my legs again, letting my white panty crotch remain in plain view for a full second or more. I watched as his eyes obediently followed my lead. Then I very slowly began to stand, watching his eyes follow my legs as I inched my skirt up slowly until the panty-seam of my pantyhose was visible. His eyes remained fixed, in a helplessly dead stare. "What are you looking at, young man?" I asked teasingly, but affectionately. "I-I... uh," he stammered. As I continued inching my skirt up right in front of his face, I kept watching his eyes. "What are you looking at so intently, hmmm? What are you hoping to see?" I paused, unimaginably close to revealing the nylon-encased white of my panty crotch. "Hmmmmm?" "I - uh" was his only reply. He was completely transfixed, unable to look away, and almost completely unable to form words. "What are you hoping to see down there? I'll bet you couldn't pull your eyes away even if you wanted to, and I'm not at all sure you even want to." I was speaking very softly at this point, very intimately directing each word right into his brain. I paused to let him digest my words. "You don't want to stop now, do you?" I whispered. "Please answer me." "No, I don't want to stop," was the barely audible reply. "I didn't think so," I said, triumphant like a lawyer who just made her most important point. I smiled broadly and took in the sight of my obedient young scholar. "Now," I continued. "I want you to watch closely," I said as I raised my skirt very gradually even higher. "When you see my panties, you will be completely unable to look away. Completely unable to look away. When you see my panties. Do you understand?" "Yes, I understand." "You want more than anything to see my panties, don't you Sammy?" "Yes, more than anything." "That's right. You're a very good boy. Aren't you?" "Yes, good." "Yes, that's right. And you're also very obedient, aren't you?" "Yes, obedient." "And when you see my panties, do you know what will happen?" "No." "Let me tell you, Sammy. When you see my panties, you will become weaker, even weaker than you are right now. Do you understand, Sammy? You will become very, very weak." "Yes, I understand." "So weak, in fact, that you will remain unable to look away, no matter what. Completely unable to look away from my pretty panties, unable and unwilling to think about anything else but my panties." I paused, to let the words sink in. "Now, what will happen when you see my panties?" I asked, just to make sure my words were having the proper effect on him. "I will become weaker." "How weak will you become?" "Too weak to look away." "That's very good. But you are already too weak to look away, aren't you Sammy?" "Yes, too weak." "And when I show you my panties, you will become weaker still. So weak, so helplessly weak. My panties will own you then, won't they Sammy?" "Yes, your panties will own me." "My panties will control your thoughts. All you can think about, even now, is my pretty panty crotch. You want to see it, to feel its awesome power. It feels very nice to think about my panties, and to let their power control you. You want very badly to let my panties control you, don't you?" "Yes, I want them to..." "And even though you can't see them, my panties are already controlling you right now, aren't they?" "Yes, they are..." "Tell me, what are you thinking about right now?" "Your panties." "Can you think about anything else?" "No." "Do you even want to try to think about anything else but my panties?" "No, I don't want to think..." "That's right, Sammy. You don't want to think, you just want my panties to dominate all your thoughts. And that feels good to you. That feels just exactly as it should be. Thinking about my panties, letting them control you, giving in to their power over you." And as I said this last part, I raised my skirt just high enough to let my panties peek out. He was totally enthralled, and totally mine. I was loving this! "Look at my panties, Sammy," I told him. "Concentrate on them," I urged him. "Think about how pretty they are, how feminine. Think about how soft they are, and how pleasant and calming they would feel rubbing against your nose and cheek. Think about how sweet they must smell. Can you imagine these things, Sammy?" "Yes, I can imagine..." "Thank you, Sammy. You are indeed a very good student," I said as I revealed a tiny bit more and inched ever so slightly closer. "I want to reward you for your obedience. Can you think of a way for me to reward you?" "Your panties," he said yearning, motionless, eyes still fixed on them. "My panties?" I pretended to be puzzled. "What would you possibly want with my panties? You wouldn't want to touch them, would you?" "Yes, I..." "Or even possibly kiss them gently, right here?" I asked, as I pointed with my polished fingernail to the center of my panty crotch, and inched myself even closer to his face. "Don't you just want to lean forward the tiniest little bit and kiss my panties right here?" "Yes, I do," he replied as expected. "You do? Then please don't let me stop you. I give you permission to kiss my panties. Please do so." I made this last line sound like a gentle command, and he couldn't hold back. He obeyed like a good boy (or a puppy dog!), and kissed me as softly and lovingly as I'd ever been kissed in my life. "You are a very good student, Sammy. You have made your teacher very proud." I smiled broadly as I ran my fingers lightly through his hair. He paused a moment and looked up at me, smiling. "Please don't stop though, dear. Your lesson is only just beginning." And as I said that, I gently guided his face back down to my panties. "My panties want your lips. They need your lips. You won't disappoint my pretty panties, now, will you?" "He shook his head slightly and uttered a muffled 'uh-uh' as he went to his sacred task. After a few minutes feeling his lips and nose caress me through my pantyhose and panties, I decided to make my next move. "As you kiss and smell my panties, Sammy, you find yourself forgetting about everything else. All you know are my panties, all you want are my panties, all you can think about are my panties, and all you ever WANT to think about are my panties." I instructed him. "Nod if you understand and agree with me." He nodded. "My panties are everything to you, and you like it that way. It feels good to you. My panties are your universe. They give your life meaning, don't they Sammy?" "Yes," was the muffled reply, "meaning..." "You cannot forget about them, ever. Every day you will think about them, every hour, and every minute. My panties are the one constant in your life, from this moment on. Thinking about them makes you feel good, seeing them gives your mind focus, and smelling them relaxes you and gives you a deep, deep feeling of well-being. Do you understand me, Sammy?" "Yes, I understand." "Good. You enjoy these feelings very much, don't you?" "Yes, I enjoy the feelings." "Yes, you do enjoy the feelings you get from letting my panties dominate all your thoughts. In fact, you enjoy these wonderful feelings so much that you never want to lose them, do you?" "No. I never want to lose them." "No, you certainly don't want to lose them, Sammy. You enjoy giving up your will to me, and letting my panties dominate your thoughts so much now, that you'll do anything to INCREASE their power over you, won't you?" "I'll do anything..." "That's right, dear. You'll do anything to increase the hold my panties have over you, and to ensure that these wonderful feelings will never go away. You want to submit to me more and more, at every opportunity, so that these feelings will continually deepen and strengthen. You cannot refuse any opportunity to submit to my panties, and you never even want to try. Can you ever hope to resist my panties, Sammy?" "No, never." "And you don't ever want to try to resist them, even to the slightest extent, do you?" "No, I don't want to resist." "That's right, Sammy. You are indeed a very good student." And as I said this, I gently pulled his face against my panty crotch again, as a reward. "And if I ever show you even the tiniest glimpse of my panties, ever again, you will find yourself completely unable to look away, and unable to think about anything else. You will find yourself becoming weak and helpless, lost under the influence of my pretty panties. "As you look at my panties, you will obey me totally, completely unwilling and unable to resist. You will find yourself relaxing more and more deeply, the longer you look at my panties. You will find yourself obeying my wishes automatically, as though it was the most natural thing to do, as though you were born to do it. You will want nothing more than to obey me and please me, and your happiness depends on how well you satisfy me. "You are now my panty slave, Sammy. You will always be my panty slave. You were born to be my panty slave."It fulfills you very deeply that I allow you to be my panty slave, and you are very grateful to me. Don't you love being my panty slave, Sammy my dear? "Yes, I love being your panty slave." You feel a strong desire to share your joy and fulfillment with others, so they may also know the true bliss you have attained by serving me. You want to share this deep feeling of satisfaction with your friends, so that they might also experience the same ecstasy. You will try to find ways to share this experience with others, won't you? "Yes, I will try to share..." "Very good. But how will you teach them? Do you think you can convince them just by telling them about my panties, and the joy they bring into your life?" "No." "That's right, you'd have to SHOW them. I will be glad to help you share this joy with others, by showing them firsthand what it can be like for them, if you don't mind me getting involved. Would you like my help with that?" "Yes, please help me." "I would be glad to," I replied, as if doing him a big favor. "Thank you for asking me so kindly. We can work together to show other boys how happy they can be as my panty slaves. We can be a team, can't we?" "Yes, a team." "I'm so glad to have you on my team, Sammy. You are such a good student, and a fine panty slave. I am very happy with your progress here this afternoon, and I'd like to reward you." "Reward me?" "Yes, of course. You may now continue kissing and smelling my panties, if you so desire." And with this, I turned around, pulled my dress all the way up over my hips, and bent over slightly to give him access to my panty-covered ass. He began kissing and sniffing like it was the most important thing he's ever done in his life. Fortunately for me, it was. THE END?	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/65/special.txt
65,551	Anonymous (address withheld)	Hippie of the 90's	You know, last weekend I was majorly pissed off. There was work more than enough, and I felt miserably lonely. I had been depressed for a couple of months, ever since the woman I was having a sexual relationship with had to move away because of her job. My depression prevented me from having a social life for a long time; I didn't feel at all like being with other people, rather be a hermit isolated in the ivory tower of my dorm room, working my butt off. I was wise enough not to try to suffocate my depression with a load of alcohol or other drugs; I was too clever to cheat myself like that. I used marijuana every now and then to enhance positive vibes, but from experience, I knew it wouldn't cover up depression. Finally, I got fed up with suppressing my sexuality for so long. I've always been a very sexual person, but before I reformed my character to get rid of shyness and meekness, I didn't have much action. The relationship with the career woman was tailor-made for me; she didn't want to bother with formalities such as marriage, but she was damn good company both in bed and outside the bedroom, as well physically as intellectually. So you can imagine how hard it was to return to masturbation! So, on Saturday night, I started getting myself in gear. I've received some compliments for my appearance, although it is fairly moderate in my opinion. Having long, dark hair makes me shine through the masses of conservative-looking students that populate the computer science department. That draws some fascinated looks from the few technically inclined ladies, but I don't care about them - mostly they are just as much nerds as the guys. Since I've been fascinated by the sixties and early seventies music, I've built my wardrobe accordingly. For the evening, I wore a turquoise silk shirt with ornamental patterns and the bellbottom jeans I finally had managed to find in a second-hand store. As I put a necklace with a largish copper ankh, ornamented with runes, around my neck, I was feeling HOT! In the city, I was delightfully aware of the wondering, admiring, and violently disapproving looks I received. Every face that looked at me gave me little electric vibes. One of the little hobbies I have liked the most is to look intensely back if someone glances at you and then observe the reaction, especially when girls are concerned! At the entrance of my regular club, I saw her, just going in. She was a strange mixture; she looked innocent, yet very sensual; immaculate, yet eager to learn new ways of sinning; the good girl, yet willing to be a desirous beast! I decided to take it slowly and observe her from a distance; the evening was young, and there was no need to rush, unless someone else decided to have a go at her, but I would break that up with ruthlessness I have discovered myself to be capable of when I want it. The club was good: they played music loud and fast. Speedmetal followed by techno followed by classics from Hendrix was a perfect audio cocktail for me. I like to dance - although I lack some skill, I make it up with aggressiveness and force that was in harmony with the music. If there's enough force, no one cares if you miss a beat sometimes. When they finally played the Doors, I had the scene almost all to myself; I accelerated myself into a shamanistic performance in the middle of the dance floor. When the music stopped, I was exhausted for a while but felt great pleasure from my dance and the fact that I had certainly been the focus of attention. As I moved to the bar to have a nice, cool beer, I noticed that the girl I saw before actually followed me! I turned around. "Hi, having any fun?" I asked. "Sure! You certainly pulled an act over there; shit, for a while, I thought I saw a reincarnation of Jim Morrison in the nineties!" I was surprised. I knew that especially if I dressed right, I looked a bit Morrisonesque, but that a girl who had barely crossed the 18-year limit knew something about him, that was a surprise. "Thanks! Let me buy you a beer for that, ok? Then you can tell me what you know about that particular demigod while I can stare at your beautiful eyes." She blushed a bit but recovered with a tiny laughter. "Hey, why not." So, we started talking. I was being a bit too straightforward to be polite, but she enjoyed it and adapted her style to match mine, and I loved every second of it. She was interesting. I've never liked dumb chicks, and she was definitely intellectual. I found out that she was a freshman at the university, came from a small country town, and was a bit puzzled over the new things around her. So that's why she looked so innocent, a country girl... but she seemed very eager and ready to see how she can deal with anything that comes her way. When we came to talk about art, I revealed that some months ago, I had been so fascinated with Giger's demonic and erotic art that I did some sketches of my own. "I want to see them - right now!" That was a surprise. "Huh?" "C'mon, you don't resist a crazy idea every now and then, do you?" "No! Ok, let's go." We walked to the bus station. I put my arm on her shoulders and squeezed her a bit teasingly. She responded by pressing her lips against mine. It was electricity! After we finally broke up, I couldn't do anything but look into her eyes, which were as full of desire as mine. When we reached my apartment, she promptly had a look at my CDs while I dug up my artwork. As she put a Doors disc on the tray, I presented her with the best of the bunch: A naked woman's body partly deformed and melted into an alien-like piece of machinery. She looked at the picture and smiled with approval. "It's good. You've done a perfect job in shading it with dark gray. Although it looks a bit too much like Giger, you seem to be perfectly able to develop your own style..." We browsed through the rest, and after finishing with them, I raised my look to meet her wanting eyes. I couldn't keep my desires quiet anymore. "You know that I can hardly stand being here without touching you, tasting you." She pressed a finger gently to my lips. "Hush... Don't talk, follow your instincts." I didn't need to be told more than once. I leaned to her, forcing her to lie on her back while kissing her all the time. After she was completely lying on the carpet, I started to tease her body with my fingertips through the soft and thin fabric of her clothes. I moved my head to touch her neck and throat with my lips. As I ran my tongue up and down the sides of her neck, occasionally probing under the cloth, I heard her breathing getting heavier. She wasn't motionless either; her hands grabbed my butt and squeezed with a good grip. Good! She lifted my shirt a bit and caressed my back with soft movements. When she started searching for the zipper in my jeans, I started moving down on her, whispering "Not yet, darling, let's have some fun before that," and started to undo buttons on her jeans. I took her jeans off and started kissing the insides of her thighs, moving my tongue up and down. I've always liked to examine a woman's skin with my mouth, my lips, and tongue. She was moaning softly and started pulling my hair to make my head move nearer to her crotch. I resisted, because I wanted to take it slow. Finally, I took her underpants off. They were already moist with her juices, and I could sense that wonderful smell I had been without for such a long time. She parted her legs wide and moaned: "Please! Lick me... I can't stand being this hot..." I hadn't yet stopped my teasing. She let out a cry of slight anger when I turned her on her side and bit gently her ass cheek. I've always been turned on by a nice ass, and hers was one of the best I had seen. The ass cheeks were simply perfect, round with soft skin that just screamed to be touched and nibbled. And so I did. I spent a lot of time caressing those perfect flesh mounds. I knew that even if she liked me kissing her ass, she wanted something else. So finally, I turned her on her back again. She started panting when I tenderly kissed the area between her vagina and asshole. I gently rubbed her asshole with my left hand, playing around the edges with my fingertips and carefully probing the inside with my index finger. I didn't know if she had ever had anything at her back door before, so I observed her reactions. Yes! She definitely liked it as she started moving her hips and moaned when I fucked her asshole with my finger. Then I put my lips on her pussy lips and started sucking them, taking them alternatively in my mouth.Her moans got harder, and she was almost hurting me when she pulled on my hair and pressed my head against her pussy. I licked the outside and inside of her pussy and inserted my tongue inside her pussy, still avoiding touching her clitoris. She started really thrashing, and I had some difficulties keeping in contact with her pussy. As she bucked her hips more strongly, I sucked her pussy lips more intensely and inserted a couple of fingers into her moist hole. Okay, so it wasn't too easy to fuck her asshole and pussy with my fingers while eating her when she was moving so much, so I concentrated on her pussy and withdrew from her asshole. Her slit was wet, and my fingers were covered with her delightful juices. I could taste her sweet pussy with my mouth, and it was so wonderful that my erection was getting painful in my jeans. I opened the zipper without stopping too much and had some relief. "Oh, you are good... I come soon, I come soon..." I started to suck her clitoris, and her moans came suddenly much louder. She breathed and moaned intensely at the same time. I sucked more and more and pumped my fingers in and out faster and faster. She shouted out short but intense screams of pleasure as she came. She pressed her pussy tightly against my face, and I was forced to hold my breath for a while. I felt with my fingers her vaginal muscles contract as she came with a powerful orgasm. She was pulling her legs together, and it was an incredible feeling to have my head squeezed between her legs and her pussy, hot and orgasming, being pressed on my face. I sucked her clitoris as hard as I could and moved my fingers intensely inside her to keep her coming as long as possible. As she gradually came down and her breathing got lighter, I adjusted my movements to be gentler to make her land softly. "Oh god... oh god oh god oh god... I never came with my boyfriend, only when I was playing with myself, and it was never like this..." she whispered as I placed myself beside her and caressed her softly while kissing her. "Good you liked it, but don't think it's over. Somebody down there has been waiting anxiously for some time now," I said, pointing to my cock. "If you make me come like this again, you'll drive me mad..." "It will be sweet madness, and probably better than being sane, don't you think so?" I swiftly took a condom from a drawer and rolled it onto my hard cock. I don't like condoms all that much, but you've got to do what you've got to do, maybe if we would end up in a longer relationship... "Have you tried any positions you like?" "I don't know, I've been lying on my back every time." "Okay, so let's do it like this... Go on all fours." She obeyed, although a bit hesitantly, and I kneeled behind her with my stiff cock eagerly awaiting to be swallowed by her love-hole. I had a brief glimpse at the most beautiful view on this earth: her wet love-hole seen from behind, accompanied with the tiny asshole and the best pair of ass-cheeks there is. She still had her shirt on, so I put my hands under the cloth and removed her bra. I started to play with her nipples and felt them harden. Then, without a warning, I entered her moist slit. She gasped with a surprise - "Ah, you're big!" I knew that my cock was perfectly medium-sized, but there was no need to start telling her statistics, and she was tighter than normal. I started pumping, first slowly, then with a gradually quickening pace. She felt so good that if someone would have asked me if there is a God, I would've said a definitive yes, even if I am an atheist. She was responding to my movements by moving her hips back and forth. She was clearly enjoying it, and hell, so was I! It was so much better than my right hand, who had been my sex-mate for a couple of months too much. We gradually ended up raising ourselves up from the floor until I was sitting on my legs, and she was sitting on me, pumping furiously. I was squeezing her tits and nipples maybe a bit too hard, as she let out a slight cry, but I was too excited to care much. Her tits were a perfect handful, not too big or small. I bit her neck, gently and not so gently, and she let out cries of excitement when I massaged her earlobes with my mouth. She pumped on me harder and harder, and I could feel that familiar tightening in my balls. I was having the time of my life, I was right on the edge of orgasm but not quite over it for several minutes, and it felt so good I could've died right at the spot and not cared if the sensation would have continued. Her pussy muscles started to vibrate again as she had another orgasm, shouting a bit obscenely "FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" I was almost ready to come but not quite. Because she was slowing her pace, I had to push her back on all fours and start a furious pumping for an orgasm. It didn't take me long anymore, and as I came, I swear I saw stars flickering in my eyes. We collapsed onto the carpet to a heap. I was completely covered with sweat, and her skin was trembling all over. I don't know for how long we just rested there with my cock still inside her, caressing each other, looking into each other's eyes and kissing, kissing... So that's why I've been so happy this week, even if I had to write that gigantic document ready. We'll see each other again on Friday as soon as her lectures end...	null	null	Collections/Kristen's_Collection/www/65/hippie.txt

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