The room was on the Upper East Side, about a fifteen-minute walk from Hunter.

That was the important part.

If I lived here, I could actually go to campus every day. No excuses about the train. No deciding that forty minutes each way wasn't worth it for one lecture. I could leave home at eight forty and still make a nine o'clock class.

The room itself was about the same size as the one I had now. I'd be sharing with five other people, all students, which was apparently a requirement for renting it.

Six people sounded like a lot.

Then again, three had somehow been complicated enough.

The building was six stories of dark red brick, with a black fire escape running down the front and enough window air conditioners to make the whole thing look slightly improvised.

The entrance sat three steps above the sidewalk beneath a stone arch that had probably looked impressive when it was built. Now it mostly made the building look old.

I could see myself living here.

The front door was propped open, so I went inside and climbed to the second floor.

Apartment 203 had enough names beside the doorbell that I had to check the number again.

Five names.

Right.

I was supposed to meet someone named Ethan.

I knocked.

A tan guy with dark hair opened the door. T-shirt, pants, sandals. He looked about my age.

“Hi. I'm Lillian. I'm here to see the room?”

“Ah, sure. Come in.”

He stepped aside, then turned toward the hallway.

“Ethan! Someone's here about the room.”

A Black man's head appeared around one of the doorways.

He looked at me and smiled.

Ethan came the rest of the way out of the room. He was wearing a shirt, pants, and a pair of very nice-looking sneakers. His hair was cropped short, and when he shook my hand, I caught the smell of vanilla.

His handshake was warm.

“Lillian. Perfect timing. Let me show you the room.”

He led me farther down the hallway and stopped at an open door.

The room was empty. Four walls, a window, and, somewhat unexpectedly, a small sink in one corner.

“Every room has its own sink. Bathrooms and showers are shared. We've got three toilets and two showers, and the hot water is tankless, so you don't have to worry about being last and getting a cold shower.”

He said that with the enthusiasm of someone who had apparently experienced the alternative.

“My mom had the place forever, and I took over the lease. Rent's stupid cheap by Manhattan standards, so we just split it. It's twelve hundred a month, paid on the fifteenth. Does that work for you?”

Six hundred dollars less than I was paying now.

“Yes.”

“Oh, and you're a student, right? We only accept students.”

“Registered and everything.”

I pulled my student ID from my wallet and handed it to him.

“Nice. So based on what you said in the email, you can move in on the first?”

“Yes. I'm paid up through November fifteenth at my other place, so unless I can get some of that back, this is going to be a little expensive. But I think it'll be worth it.”

“Cool. You need any help moving?”

“Thanks, but I'll hire people. Most of my stuff is going into storage. I'll bring the necessities, but not much else.”

He nodded.

“Okay then. Shake on it, and I'll see you next Thursday?”

That was apparently all it took.

I smiled and held out my hand.

“See you Thursday.”

The moving company had dropped off boxes yesterday, and I'd given myself the day to pack before they came at five to pick everything up.

Everything in the living room was going into storage.

Everything in my room was going to the new place.

Simple enough.

I was about halfway done when I heard the front door unlock.

Could it be Dan? He should be at work.

I went into the hallway and found Mia standing there with bubble tea and a bag that looked like it had food in it.

Crud.

This was not how this was supposed to happen.

Okay. Smile. There was no reason this had to be awful.

“Mia!”

I went straight over and hugged her.

“Should have said you were coming over,” I said in my best attempt at sounding warm.

Mia didn't smell like Mia anymore.

She used to smell of laundry detergent and cheap strawberry body wash. Now she smelled dry and woody, like wood shavings and forest air.

She smelled like Leah.

“Eh, I live here,” she said.

“No you don't.”

It came out with more bite than I intended.

“Oh my God, you brought food? I am starving.”

I wasn't really. I'd eaten a wrap about an hour earlier, but I couldn't reject Mia's food at the same time as I was rejecting her.

“Huh?”

Mia looked confused.

Just act normal. We can get through this.

She lifted the food and drinks. “Oh, right, yeah. I have banh mi and some bubble tea.”

“Oh, my favorite. Thank you.”

I took the bag from her and walked into the kitchen.

Favorite.

Wrong flavor of bubble tea and pork instead of beef.

Favorite adjacent.

Mia followed me into the kitchen.

“You’re moving? When were you planning to tell me?”

I bit my tongue and went with the lines I'd rehearsed.

“Our lease ends November fifteenth. I’m paying my part until then. After that, we would have had to negotiate something new with the landlord anyway.”

I let out a sigh. This was not going to plan.

“I was planning to tell you once I had all my stuff out of here.”

Mia looked shocked.

“What is happening, Lin? Where are you going?”

I sat down at the table, unwrapped my food, and took a bite. 

Remember the lines.

“I’ve been feeling different since we came back from Shelly’s wedding. I think you unlocked something in me. A new passion, or want. The video with Anna, the stuff at the school. It... refreshed me. Made the fog go away. Then the way you spoke to my friends and family about me made me realize I wasn't trying to be the person you saw me as. I wasn't working hard at school. I wasn't planning for the future. I was just... hanging around.”

I took another bite.

Eat. Chew. Swallow. Keep going.

“I’ve decided to focus on school. I want to attend more classes in person. I want to focus on my degree. I want to get this done, and I want to do it well.”

If I stopped, she'd start asking questions.

Mia looked around the room, pointing at all the boxes. “But why are you moving?”

“I found a room closer to Hunter. If I'm going to actually attend classes instead of doing everything I can online, I don't want an hour of my day disappearing on the train.”

Another bite. Keep going.

Mia looked puzzled. “Isn’t that more expensive than here?”

“I’m sharing with five other people. It’s twelve hundred a month, so I’m saving about six hundred.”

“Five other people?” Mia said, sounding shocked.

“It’s fine. They’re all students, so everyone is focused on school. Cutting out distractions. Really getting this done.”

Mia gave me a look.

“What distractions?”

Crud.

That wasn't one of the lines.

I looked down at my food.

There probably wasn't a nice way to answer that.

“I’m cutting things off with Dan, and...” I took a deep breath. “I want to create some distance between us.”

I didn't look her in the eye when I said it.

“I want you to stop texting me. No more sex, no more spending the night. I don’t want you visiting me or pulling me into anything. I want a clean break. Maybe once I get my footing, we can reconnect.”

I expected Mia to slap me. Or shout.

Instead, she was quiet.

I looked up. She was sitting across from me.

“Was I stopping you from studying?” she asked softly.

I closed my eyes.

Please don't ask the next question.

“No,” I said.

“Did I tell you not to get a job?”

“No.”

“Am I a burden?”

I opened my eyes and looked at her.

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then why do you have to get rid of me to become a better person?”

I sank down in my chair and tilted my head back, staring at the ceiling.

This was why I'd wanted to be gone before I told her.

“It’s not like that.”

“You are running away, Lin. You are not doing this because you suddenly care about your fucking GPA. You are doing this because I said I love you, and you decided that was too scary when you started feeling something for me.”

Okay, that hurt.

Mia stood up from her chair.

“You left Iowa, not because you wanted to move to New York, but because you wanted out of Iowa. You settled in here, and then you found me. But when I tell you I love you, you start feeling the same way, and Leah makes everything complicated, suddenly you need another fresh start. You can’t pick complicated, so you choose to run.”

I stood up and moved toward her.

This was getting worse.

Hug her. Calm her down. Get her out the door.

“I know you are angry, Mia, but... I want this. I need this.”

She started toward the door, avoiding my hug.

“I guess I’ll see you around,” she said as she touched the door handle. 

“Mia, wait.”

She looked back at me.

Her eyes were red. She was close to crying.

“What!?”

Damn. 

“I’m... sorry.”

It was all I had.

Mia turned back toward the door.

“Fuck you, Lin.”

She slammed it behind her.

I pinched the bridge of my nose.

Okay.

That could have gone worse.

At least it was over.

I went back to packing.

When I showed up, all my new roommates helped with the move.

Boxes were quickly moved into my room and stacked neatly against the walls. My bed was set up in no time, and the whole thing was over in less than thirty minutes.

Amazing what five guys could accomplish when they all decided to do something at the same time.

I was unpacking when Ethan knocked on my door and asked if I wanted to join them for dinner.

“Mateo's cooking, and not to be racist, but his Mexican is superior in basically every way.”

I accepted and joined everyone in the dining room.

They explained the system to me over dinner.

There was a shared food budget, and every day you could opt in for dinner. Cooking rotated between everyone who opted in. It was cheaper than everyone buying and cooking their own food. It meant you didn't end up with six versions of the same thing taking up the refrigerator, and it guaranteed at least one point during the day when everyone had a reason to be in the same room. 

Efficient, social, and designed to avoid arguments.

I liked it immediately.

Introductions happened somewhere between Mateo putting food on the table and everyone starting to eat.

Mateo Alvarez was twenty-five, Mexican-American, and studying architecture. He was also apparently responsible for dinner and most of the conversation.

“This is Noah Kim,” Mateo said, pointing across the table. “He does computers and judges us silently.”

Noah gave him a look.

“Computer Science.”

“See?”

Noah was twenty-four, Korean-American, with short black hair and glasses. He gave me a small wave.

“Hi, Lillian.”

“Hi.”

Next to him was Oliver Bennett, although everyone called him Ollie. He was twenty-seven, making him the oldest of us, and was doing his JD. He had light brown hair that was cut short and neatly styled.

“Ollie handles legal complaints,” Mateo said.

“I absolutely do not.”

“He'll tell you why your complaint isn't legally actionable.”

“That I might do.”

I smiled.

Dev Patel was twenty-three, Indian-American, and studying Film and Media Studies. He had thick black hair that curled slightly around his ears and a short beard.

The woman sitting beside him was Sophie Chen, his girlfriend. She was Chinese-American, also twenty-three, with long black hair and round glasses. She was studying Psychology.

“She doesn't live here,” Ethan explained.

“But I pay into the food fund,” Sophie added immediately.

“Very important distinction,” Mateo said.

“I eat here three or four nights a week. I'm not freeloading off you people.”

“She has her own shelf in the fridge,” Dev said.

“I pay for that too.”

I liked Sophie immediately.

That left Ethan Brooks, who I already knew. He was twenty-six, Black, had short-cropped hair, and was doing his master's in Mechanical Engineering.

Five roommates, one regular girlfriend, and me.

I repeated the names in my head.

Ethan. Mateo. Noah. Ollie. Dev. Sophie.

That wasn't too difficult.

“Alcohol budget isn't shared, by the way,” Ethan said as he opened a beer. “But I can spot you if you don't have anything with you.”

“I can trade you half a bottle of Jägermeister for a few beers if that feels fair?”

“More than fair. My crappy beer against proper German hard liquor. I like how that sounds.”

I laughed as he handed me a beer.

We had a good meal together. Mateo really did make some great Mexican food.

I got to know everyone a little better and gave them the safe-for-work version of my own history. I was from Iowa, had moved to New York four years ago, was studying History and Arts at Hunter, and had recently decided I should probably take the studying part more seriously.

There were several other details that didn't seem necessary on the first night.

After dinner, people slowly started filing out, either disappearing into their rooms or saying good night.

“Any lectures tomorrow?” Ethan asked.

“Nothing until two. Fridays are fairly quiet. I've got some chapters I need to catch up on, though.”

“Cool. Wanna watch something?”

I shrugged, grabbed my beer, and followed him into the living room. 

The couch was a huge U-shape, with several large chairs scattered around it. You could probably fit ten people in there comfortably.

The TV was enormous.

Eighty inches? Maybe more.

It took up almost the entire wall.

Ethan picked up the remote and turned on the TV.

“What do you want to watch?”

“What do you have?”

“Everything.”

“That seems unlikely.”

He opened an app with a yellow chevron that looked like half a play button.

There were a lot of movies and a lot of TV shows.

“Dev runs a server for the house. Movies, shows, whatever. If there's something you want and it isn't there, search for it, add it to the watchlist, and it'll mysteriously appear.” 

I looked through the library.

“So we don't need Netflix or anything?”

“Nope. Cancel all of it.”

That was another fifty dollars or so a month I could stop spending.

I was starting to like this place.

Ethan pointed the remote at me.

“Don't ask how.”

“I wasn't going to.”

“Good. If the FBI raids us, you have no idea what Dev was doing.”

“I don't know what Dev is doing now.”

“Perfect.” 

He browsed around in the movie section.

“You seen The Mummy?”

“Of course.”

“Good. I don’t trust people who haven’t.”

I had forgotten how good Brendan Fraser looked in this movie.

That was somewhat distracting.

We talked as the movie played. I learned a little about Ethan's family, and he learned a carefully edited version of mine.

By the time Imhotep was back at full power, Ethan had stretched his arm along the back of the couch.

I could have stayed where I was.

Instead, I leaned a little closer.

His arm dropped from the back of the couch and settled around my shoulders.

I smiled.

Okay.

I leaned closer again.

Ethan still smelled of vanilla. It had to be his shampoo or something. I took a deep breath, and he looked down at me.

“Something wrong?”

“No. Just smelling you.”

“Bad?”

“No, quite good, actually.”

He smiled at that and pulled me a little closer.

His arm was around my shoulders now, his hand resting directly over my left breast.

Okay.

That was fast, but not exactly wrong.

Maybe just some playing around tonight.

No sex.

I adjusted how I was sitting, bringing his hand closer against me.

He started moving it casually, and I could feel my nipple stiffening.

I looked up at him. He looked down at me and gave my boob a squeeze.

Smiling, I started running my hand along his leg.

Let's see who folds first.

He slipped his hand beneath my shirt.

Okay. Maybe I could fold first.

Handjob?

No. I am not a girl. I am a woman, and we give blowjobs.

But nothing more tonight.

Third base and done.

I undid his belt and opened his pants.

Size-wise, he wasn't as big as Dan.

Good. Nothing to fear, then.

I pulled him out of his underwear and discovered that he was clean-shaven. Not a look I was familiar with on guys, but nothing I objected to.

He stroked my head, and I sort of leaned into his hand before opening my mouth and sucking on his head.

A soft moan escaped him, and I felt him buck against me. I lifted my head with him.

I was giving head here, not getting facefucked.

He moved his hand away from my head and down to my butt. He gave it a squeeze and a light slap.

I shook my butt a little to show that I'd noticed, but kept working his dick.

Then I felt his hand slip beneath my pants and underwear and grab my butt cheek.

“Can you take off your pants? I want to see that ass.”

Sure, why not.

I was blowing him. He could look at my ass.

I got up and removed my pants, leaving my underwear on, then got back on the couch and continued the blowjob.

He went back to grabbing my butt cheek, and not long after that, I felt a finger slip into me.

A moan came out before I expected it.

Okay.

That did feel good.

Ethan clearly took that as encouragement and kept going. It made the blowjob considerably harder to perform, but I was no quitter.

Then another finger.

Another moan.

Fuck, Ethan. Why are you making this blowjob so difficult?

While I was still trying to recover, he used his other hand to lift my face toward his and kissed me, still fingering me.

When he pulled back, his voice was soft.

“It’s really hard for me to come from head. Are you on any contraception?”

I nodded.

“The pill.”

“Can I put it in you for a bit? I'll pull out. It’ll help me come.”

I looked at him for a second.

Third base and done.

Apparently that rule had lasted almost ten minutes.

I nodded, one hand still against his face while his fingers moved inside me.

“Okay.”

A tiny bit of sex, then.

He pulled my underwear to the side and slid his cock up and down between my lips a few times before entering me.

“Mmm, that feels good,” I said.

“God, you are so tight...”

I blushed.

I didn't think anyone had ever told me my pussy was tight before. It felt like a weird thing to be proud of, but I was.

We stayed like that for a while, with me straddling him as he pushed into me on the couch.

Then he moved me and stood up.

I thought he was about to come, so I started blowing him again. I'd rather swallow everything than get cum on my clothes.

He stood while I knelt on the couch, and I could taste myself on his dick.

It turned out Ethan wasn't ready to come just yet.

He moved behind me and entered me again, much deeper this time.

“Oh... I thought you were about to come for me,” I said.

“Not yet. Lean forward. Let me see your ass.”

I did, bending forward and putting my head down against the couch, lifting my ass for his inspection.

“Oh, that's nice. You have a very nice ass, Lillian.”

I smiled into the couch.

I was tight. I had a nice ass.

I really liked this sort of talk.

I felt his thumb circle my asshole.

Well, it was a really nice ass.

I pushed back against his thumb, feeling it slip in.

Ethan started to increase his pace, and I reached back between my legs and cupped his balls.

He suddenly stiffened, and I felt him twitch inside me.

Okay.

So he came inside me.

It was fine. I was on the pill.

He slid out and leaned back against the couch.

“That was amazing, Lillian. I'm sorry I came inside you, but when you grabbed my balls, I just couldn't control myself.”

I bit my lip.

Okay, this had gone a little further than I'd expected.

But I'd made him lose control.

That wasn't bad, right?

I leaned forward and kissed him.

“It was. We should do it again sometime.”

I gave him a wink, got up, and walked back to my room.

As the door closed, I felt cum running down my leg.

Okay, new goal. Ethan needs to be converted to a boyfriend. No more just sleeping around.

We are gonna be better here.

Alex and Laney had been together for a few years, a bit over two of them. They were pretty serious about one another, but had been having some behind closed doors problems the last couple of weeks. Wanting to turn things around, they went out to her family vacation house by the beach to reset their minds. 

It was a quiet, wealthy little community. Laneys parents had their house about 100 yards off the water, and a few of her family members had places scattered around the island as well. Her friend that had become her unofficial sister, Maya, had always been a beach girl, to the point where Maya moved out here and was left in charge of the house, but had to find a local job to at least pay for her own groceries and a few other basic things. 

Maya was at work when Laney and Alex got into town, and joined them down at the beach for a bit before the three of them went out to dinner. It was a pretty standard beach area restaurant. Food wasn’t Michelin quality, but it was good enough and importantly, reasonably priced and since it was the off season, the bartender with the heavy pour was there. 

The rest of the night was relatively relaxing. They went home and had a little fire on the patio as they caught up for about an hour or so. It was about midnight by the time Alex decided to turn in and was walking out of the bathroom after a shower when Laney came in. 

“She seems to be doing alright.” He said casually. 

“She’s so lost.” Laney said, starting to get undressed. 

Alex leaned against the doorframe, admiring the view. Laney was a bit, soft, physically. Not overweight or chubby, but just a little something. Her thighs were soft and round, her ass was (thankfully) naturally kind of big, and he loved the way her tits would hang when she rode him or sat on his face. 

Laney was bent over, naked, rummaging through her bag when Alex came up behind her, pressing his cock into her ass without entering her. 

“I found where I’m supposed to be.” He said, putting his hands on her hips. He was more sexual and had a higher libido than she did, but she usually didn’t mind it. 

“Oh, gosh,” she sighed and giggled, “that was corny.” She wiggled her ass against his cock then turned around, taking it in her hand and stroking it as she looked up at him. “If we weren’t on vacation, I don’t know if I’d let you get away with it.”

“What else are you gonna let me get away with?” He asked, putting his hands on her shoulders and kissing her as he hardened in her hand. 

She gave his balls a soft squeeze as she got on her knees. “You tell me.” She looked up at him, licked along his shaft, then took him into her mouth. 

She started slow and tantalizing, progressing to gagging on his large member. Her fingers wet from entering herself as she was down on her knees. 

She stood up and walked him over to the bed, where she fell onto the soft blankets on her back, but Alex rolled her over. Her feet were still on the floor as Alex got down on his own knees, pulled her legs and ass apart, and buried his face in her pussy, going between that and her asshole. 

“Get in me,” she said as her legs had started to shake. 

He obliged, lining up his dick and entering her soft, warm, comfortable pussy. He began thrusting from behind, pushing her legs further apart to get in deeper. She gripped the blanket as she was getting rocked by his cock, moaning into the comforter. 

Alex felt her pussy start to clench up around him and slapped her ass a few times, which, with the right timing, could be what sent her into orgasm. And it did. He slowed his thrusting as she shook and whimpered his name. 

She crawled off his cock and turned around to lay on her back, spreading her legs as far as she could. “Your turn, big boy.” She cooed. 

Laney liked to have her clit sparked and that’s what he did, using his heavy cock to do so. Her eyes were closed as she fell into the sensation, giving a deep grunt as he slid himself into her pussy. 

He began sliding himself in and out, her whining and moaning for more of him. He leaned down and started sucking on her slightly sun-kissed breasts as her legs wrapped around him. He rose from her breasts to her neck, kissing it as her legs wrapped around him. 

“I love you,” he said. “I love your pussy,” 

Her arms draped around his neck, biting her lip. 

“I know,” she said softly. “I love you, too. And your dick.” She said, clenching around him. 

The two of them rolled on their side, her moans the only thing he could hear. His grunts the only thing she could hear. 

“Finish me.” She whispered desperately into his ear. 

He didn’t say a word as he rolled her onto her back, got into prime position, and started giving it all he had. The two tried to stay quiet out of respect for Maya, though her room wasn’t close enough for her to hear easily, but she could have been elsewhere. 

And she was. 

“Fuck,” she heard from the other side of the door. “Fuck my little pussy. It’s yours.” 

Maya quietly opened the door, letting her curiosity get the better of her. Alex was sort of facing her as her friend was getting split in half. Maya started getting wet when she saw Alex spit on Laneys clit and start slapping it. 

Laneys hips began to roll and she held her tits firm as he rapidly fucked and slapped her clit. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Laney said, each one more emphatic than the last. “God, I’m cumming.” And she did. Her legs twitched, her hips rolled, and even though Maya couldn’t tell, her friend started creaming on his cock. 

“Your turn,” Laney whined out. She pulled his cock from her pussy, and started rapidly stroking it. 

Maya audibly gasped when she saw the size of his cock, but turned to make sure she wasn’t seen. They didn’t even notice, and when she peaked around the corner, she saw him shoot ropes of cum, getting it from her face, down her tits, and puddling up on her tummy. 

Laney slowed her hand down before speeding it back up, milking his impressive cock dry. That’s when Maya turned to slip out, totally forgetting why she went to check on them in the first place. 

Maya went back to her room and tried to distract herself. She wasn’t thinking about her friend, obviously, but about Alex. She didn’t know how big he was, why would she? And it was a cock that he seemed to not brag about, not having “big dick energy.” 

Maya started doomscrolling on her phone in her pajamas, soft shorts and a loose tank top, but couldn’t shake the feeling she had between her legs. 

“Fuck this,” she said, reaching for a nearby drawer and grabbing a vibrating dildo from it. Not nearly as big as Alex was, but it more than did the trick. She turned it on, letting it vibrate against her pussy as she slid her shorts to the side and started fucking herself with it. 

It was more of a perfunctory masturbation than a desperate or needed one, so she didn’t go crazy or turn into a fountain. After she came, her legs tightening around her hand, she rolled out of bed and cleaned off the dildo before returning it to the hiding spot. 

As Laney was soft, Maya was fit. About the same height, her tits were smaller but firmer, her thighs were strong, and her ass was high and tight. 

The next morning as she was watching TV on the couch, she heard Alex walking down the hall and pulled up her shorts a bit. 

“Morning,” he said, to which she returned the same words. 

He sat down on the couch next to her, one arm up on the back of it. “Any ideas for today?” He asked. 

“I took the week off, so it’s totally up to you two.” Maya said, looking over at him. She’d never seen him sexually, like she did last night, and was pleasantly surprised she didn’t get all school girl flirty around him, which tended to be the next step in the desiring process for her. 

“Laneys probably going to want to sit on the beach all day.” Alex said. 

“That can be arranged.” Maya said. 

And that’s exactly what happened. The three of them packed up for the day and spent the better part of seven hours out on the sand and water. 

Alex liked to cook and Maya could hold her own in the kitchen, but Laney was one of those people who could manage to burn a bowl of cereal. 

After dinner, the three of them went out and made another fire, stargazing and having a blast, passing around a medium quality bottle of flavored vodka. 

Laney was going the hardest, holding onto the bottle for longer than either Maya or Alex did combined. 

The girls were still in their bikinis, and Alex in his trunks. Laneys was yellow and had a bit more coverage, but Mayas was a darker blue, and covered remarkably less. Laney went inside to use the restroom and Maya took the opportunity to “adjust” her bottoms, flashing her pussy at Alex. 

He absolutely saw, and didn’t hide the fact he did, but neither said a word and they continued to talk as if it never happened. 

A few minutes more had passed, and Laney should have been back by now. “Maybe I need to go check on her,” Alex said. “I’ll be right back.” 

As he walked to check in on Laney, he kept replaying the flash in his mind. 

Laney had gone into the bedroom and in her bikini, had fallen asleep across the bed. “Ok then.”

Alex woke her up and tried to get her into her pajamas. It was a bit of a challenge, as this girl was good and gone off the white girl vodka. 

“Fuck me,” she said, slurring her words. “Put a goddamn baby in me already.” She said, trying to take her pants off. 

“Maybe later, babe.” Alex said. He’d been through this a few times before. “You’re way too drunk right now, and you want to remember the moment, wouldn’t you?”

Laney whined and nodded. “Yes baby.” 

“Get some rest babe.” Alex said, turning off the light. Laney was asleep before Alex got back outside. 

“Oh.” He said when seeing Maya. 

She’d taken her bikini off and was sitting in the chair he’d left. “Sorry,” he said, apologizing. 

“Why?” Maya said. “You don’t have anything to apologize for. Hey! Nuh uh. Get back over here.” 

Alex had turned to go back inside, but Maya threw a marshmallow at him. 

Alex went and found a chair, sitting on it, trying not to look at her. 

“This is weird.” He said, breaking the awkward silence. 

“Yeah because Im the only one naked.” She got up and walked over, sitting across his lap. 

“Oh, I don’t-“ he started.

“Pipe down,” she said, putting his face to her breast. She wasn’t surprised at his lack of pushback, nor the fact he started to gently kiss her breast. 

She undid his trunks and yanked his cock out, starting to stroke it. “Guys are so easy.” 

She got him fully erect, but he again, started to object. 

“We shouldn’t-“ he started. 

“If you say another lie, I’ll have to smother you with my pussy to get you to shut the fuck up.” She said in a harsh, but sultry tone with a devilish smile on her face. 

“You had a secret my little pony collection, didn’t you?” He said. 

It was well known that for whatever reason, Maya had a strong dislike for the brand. 

“Ok, that’s it.” She stood up and grabbed Alex by the cock, pulling him down to the ground, where she put her pussy in his face, exactly as they both wanted. 

She wiggled into place as he immediately started to ravish her pussy, her hand going undeniably fast up and down his cock. 

While Laney could cum once or twice and that would be all, once Maya got going, she didn’t bother to keep track. 

“Oh fuck, you’re trying to make me squirt on your cute little face, aren’t you?” She asked, knowing his response would be concealed by her tight, sloppy pussy. 

She bounced and ground her pussy against his desperate mouth, hovering over him. 

All he could see was her tight pussy gushing squirt directly into his face and mouth, and there was nowhere he’d rather be. 

“You fuckin freak!” She said, her legs shaking as she rose. “You don’t get to be a freak with Laney, I know.” She squatted over his cock and lowered herself onto it. 

“Oh fuck that’s right,” she moaned, sliding up and down it, moving her hips in a circle as the flickers of the flames reflected off the squirt still on his face. 

She leaned down and licked her mess off of him before bouncing on it hard and fast. 

“God, your dick is too good for just her.” She said, holding his face by his jaw. “You want someone to fuck you like this, not some pillow princess, huh?” 

“Yeah,” he weakly moaned out. “How’d you know?”

“She told me. You really tried to call her mommy?” She asked, chuckling. “That’s foolish.”

“I’ll be your mean mommy,” Maya moaned, “you like the way mean mommy rides your big dick, don’t you?” She said. 

Alex nodded. 

“Say it.”

“I like the way you ride my cock.” 

“All of it. Say it all.”

“I like the way you ride my cock, mommy.”

“Mmm, good boy. Do you like making mommy squirt?” She asked, rubbing her clit as she leaned back riding him. 

“I do mommy.” 

“Say it all.”

“I like it when mommy squirts on me.” 

Maya slightly rose up off his cock and squirted on it and his abdomen before lowering herself back onto him. 

“Only good boys get mommy’s squirt. You’re a good boy, aren’t you?” She said, her hands on his chest. 

He nodded. 

“Then fuckin say it!” She shouted. 

“I’m your good boy, I want all your squirt messes.” His eyes rolled into the back of his head as he felt another small gush of squirt, it starting to roll down his sides. 

She continued to ride him rapidly, leaning down into his ear and kissing it. “You didn’t even fight back. How cute.” 

“I need to cum,” he weakly said. 

“No the fuck you don’t.” She said. “Not yet.” She went to get up, but did so the long way by dragging her pussy from his cock to his face and standing up. “Follow me.” 

He tried getting up, knocking one of the chairs over as he did, following her inside to her bedroom. 

When he got there, he found her on the edge of the bed, legs spread far apart. 

“Get your dick in here!” She said impatiently. 

He instinctually slapped his cock on her clit a few times and she moaned. “Oh, I like that,” she said. “Do it again.”

He did, a few times. “Don’t stop.” She said, putting two fingers in her pussy, fucking herself with them as she squirted again. 

As she was mid gush, he shoved his cock inside of her to a loud yell from her. 

“Wait, wait, wait, wait,” she said, her body trying to squirm away as he held her legs in place. 

“Oh? Can’t have the roles reversed now, can you?” He slapped her clit with his hand a few times and her whimpers turned to cries. 

“I can’t cum againnnnnn.” She said, as she did exactly that. 

He let her crawl back up the bed as she covered her pussy with her hands, panting. “Give me a second.”

And he did, getting up on the bed and pushing his cock into her mouth. 

“While one hole recovers, I’ll wear another one out,” he said as he began to skulk fuck her, her eyes watering as she choked on his cock. Her hands held onto his legs as she let him have his way with her face. 

He felt her fingers creep up to his ass, dangerously close to his asshole. 

“No, no, no, no.” He said, stepping off the bed and pulling her down by her legs. “Nobody goes in there.” 

“Then get in mine.” She said, turning over and spreading her cheeks. 

“If you insist.” He forced his cock into her ass, more quickly and roughly than he probably should have, and started slapping her ass as he widened out her asshole. He put his hand under her pussy and let the force of his thrusts be what brushed her clit against his hand. Her legs curled back and her toes cracked as she started whimpering into the sheets. 

Not one minute later, Maya started squirting again. 

“My god, you’re a fountain.” He said, withdrawing from her asshole and turning her over. “I’m gonna fuck you,” he said, slamming his dick in her, “like the proper whore you are.” 

Her body went momentarily limp as he refused to give her pussy any refuge. 

“I’m gonna-“ she started. 

“No you’re not.” He interrupted, putting his fingers in her mouth, closing around them. 

“We’re coming together.” He said. “I’m gonna cum on you, you’re cumming on me, deal?” 

She pitifully nodded as the two stared into one another’s eyes, the overwhelming sense of remarkable, draining orgasms knocking on the door. Luckily it wasn’t Laney. 

“5…” he started, “4……….3…..2…” 

But just before he could pull out, Maya wrapped her muscular legs around Alex and pulled him down on top of her, holding him down.

“Cum in mommy,” she said as she squirted on his cock stuffed inside her. 

All of the strength he came in the room with melted in mere seconds. His grunts of machismo turned to whimpers of obedience as they both uncontrollably came. 

The intensity of the mutual orgasm prolonged it for them both. 

Alex slowed down, laying his full weight on her as he caught his breath. 

“Good boy,” she cooed into his ear, stroking his hair. “You did so good.” She said softly. 

He was still as hard as ever inside her overfilled pussy that was leaking down her ass and into the sheets. 

Her legs fell away from him and he was free to pull out, but he didn’t. 

He began thrusting again, initially slow, but it turned desperate fast. 

“Good fuckin boy!” She exclaimed, sitting up to watch his needy cock glide in and out of her. 

“Keep calling me that.” He begged. 

“What? Good boy? You are one. A good boy who can fuck like a pro. But you’re not my good boy, so make it count.” 

She thought she was done, but felt another one building. 

“I’m gonna cum again,” she said, clenching her body. 

“Cum for me mommy.” Alex plead, patting her overly sensitive clit again. 

While she had nothing left to squirt, she certainly had a powerful orgasm once more. 

He fell atop her again, his arms scooping under her ass as she hugged him. 

“Cum in mean mommy’s pussy again, baby.” 

While he didn’t produce nearly as much cum this time, the physical reaction he had to it was much more severe. 

The two laid there, panting and despite the cum in her pussy, the two of them were drained. 

“I should get back,” he said, pulling his cock from her pussy as they both briefly let out a moan. 

Alex looked at the cum flowing from her pussy and gently started rubbing it, but had his hand swatted away. 

“Don’t even fuckin think about it, mister.” 

“No, I wasn’t. Just admiring it.” 

Maya sat up. 

“Let’s not-“ and froze. 

Alex looked at her. Her face and gone ghostly white. Her jaw slightly open. 

“Huh?” He said, noticing her. Her turned to see what had caught her eye. “Fuck.” He said. 

“How?” Said Laney. “You both look exhausted, didn’t leave any for me.” 

Maya and Alex both tried to speak, but word salad was all they got out. 

“Calm down, calm down.” Laney said, leaning against the door. “That was really fucking hot.”

“How long have you been there for?” Alex asked. 

“About when you started fucking her face. I’m shocked I’m not mad, but I couldn’t stop watching.”

Laney was still in her shirt, but had stepped out of her pants as she sat on the bed. 

“I think the first step to making this up to me,” she said, opening her legs for her boyfriend to see her already wet pussy, “is to at least eat the pussy you just cheated on.” 

Alex and Maya looked at each other, but Laney snapped her fingers a few times. 

“No, no, no.” She began. “Mean mommy already got worked, I need a little something.” She spread her pussy lips. “Get to it, my good boy.”

“Oh shit.” Alex said with a disbelieving chuckle. 

As Alex begun to go to work, Maya tried to get up, but Laney put her hand on her arm. 

“No. Stay.” Her hand went to hold Mayas. “I want something new. I want this.” Laney confessed. 

“I didn’t know it, fuck, but I do.” 

As Alex licked and brought Laney to orgasm, Laney and Maya shared their first kiss. 

Then Alex came up to kiss Laney. Then he kissed Maya. Then Maya kissed Laney. And the three swapped lips for a bit as Laney cooled down. 

“Now what?” Laney asked. 

“Well,” Alex began. “Our bed doesn’t have cum soaked sheets on it.” He reached over and gave Mayas pussy a few pats that made her moan, but he didn’t persist, just wanted to mess with her. “Why don’t you get cleaned up and join us.” 

Laney and Alex went back to their bedroom and when Maya was showered, she came into the bedroom naked, saying sheepishly, “I like to sleep naked.”

“Of course you do.” Alex said. He was in the middle of the bed, with Laney curled up on one side of him, just enough space for Maya on the other side. 

Alex laid awake, the only light coming from the full moon high in the sky. The two women fell asleep as he watched them before closing his eyes, saying quietly. 

“Best. Vacation. Ever.”

(…Continued.)

His cock was still buried inside me when I looked back over my shoulder... hair stuck to my face, breath coming in gasps, thighs shaking from the orgasm that had just wrecked me.

And he was watching.

Not me, not my face. But us... where we were joined. Where I was stretched wide around him, dripping, twitching, still fluttering from the aftershocks.

His control was gone. I could see it in the slack of his jaw, the twitch of his fingers against my hips, the way his abs clenched as he tried to hold himself still inside my still-quivering pussy.

But he didn’t pull out.

Instead, he slid his hand up my back, slow and warm, until it was wrapped around the back of my neck. Not choking. Not rough. Just there. Holding me. Claiming me.

“I missed this pussy,” he said, voice low, wrecked. “Missed how tight you get when you cum.”

I swallowed hard, still catching my breath, forehead pressed to the wall. “You gonna fuck me again, or just stand there talking about it?”

That did something to him. I felt his cock twitch inside me.

His grip tightened on my neck. Not enough to hurt. Just enough to make me feel it.

“You don’t get to challenge me, sweetheart,” he growled.

Then he pulled out… just halfway and slammed back in.

I gasped, body jerking, already overstimulated.

But he didn’t care.

He fucked into me slow at first, dragging every inch out, making me feel it. Letting the stretch tease my already aching core, letting my walls suck him back in like I couldn’t help it.

And I couldn’t.

I didn’t want to.

Every thrust was deliberate. Deeper than before. More controlled. Like he was trying to memorize the way I felt from the inside out.

He leaned forward, his chest pressing to my back, mouth brushing the shell of my ear.

“I hate how good you feel.”

I smirked. “No, you don’t.”

His teeth sank into my shoulder... hard and I gasped again.

“I dream about this,” he muttered against my skin. “When I fuck her, I see you bent over. When she comes, I imagine your voice. You ruin everything.”

I moaned, pressing back against him. “Then ruin me.”

That broke something.

He grabbed my hair, wrapped it tight around his fist, and yanked my head back just enough to bare my throat. Then he started pounding into me. Hard. Faster than before. Deep, punishing thrusts that shoved my body against the wall with every stroke.

I could barely breathe.

And I didn’t want to.

The sound of skin slapping skin was obscene. Wet. Loud. My pussy was soaked... his cock dragging slick with every motion, hitting that spot again and again, pushing me toward a second orgasm before the first had even fully faded.

His hand slid between my thighs again, fingers rubbing fast, merciless circles over my clit.

“Cum again,” he gritted. “Want to feel you break on me.”

I shook my head, eyes watering. “Too soon — fuck — it’s too much — ”

“Then cry.”

I whimpered. Loud. Guttural.

Because I did break.

My body clenched around him like a vice, coming again so hard my knees buckled. I would’ve collapsed if he hadn’t pinned me there... hand around my neck, hips holding me up as I fell apart for him all over again.

And still... he didn’t stop.

He fucked me through it. Through the shaking, the gasping, the breathless sobs of overstimulation and bliss and need.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, voice cracked and desperate. “You take it so good. Still so tight. So fucking wet.”

He grabbed both of my wrists and yanked them behind me, holding them together at the small of my back with one hand. I was fully restrained... nothing but a gasping mess against the wall, hips bruised, back arched, tits heaving.

“God, look at you,” he breathed. “Fucking made for me.”

He slammed in harder. Rougher. I could feel how close he was... how each thrust was getting sloppier, more erratic, his breath ragged, his rhythm wild.

He buried himself deep with a growl. Held it. His cock throbbing inside me.

But he didn’t cum.

He pulled out suddenly… leaving me empty and gasping and flipped me around to face him.

I barely had time to balance before he was lifting me. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, and he carried me to the couch like I weighed nothing.

We fell into it together, him on top, cock notching back at my entrance.

“You want more?” he asked, voice sharp, hand fisting in my hair again. “You want to keep being my dirty little secret?”

I stared up at him, flushed and panting, lips swollen. “Yes.”

He slammed back into me so hard the couch creaked under us.

This time was even filthier.

He fucked me like he wanted to imprint me into the cushions. My legs fell open wider, his hands pinning them down by the thighs as he drove into me again and again. The wet sounds were obscene. His cock so deep it felt like he was in my throat.

“Touch yourself,” he growled.

I reached down, fingers finding my clit, rubbing fast.

He watched. Eyes locked on the way my pussy squeezed around him.

“Good girl,” he hissed. “You gonna cum again for me?”

I nodded frantically. “Close. So close.”

He grabbed my face, forced me to look at him. “You cum when I say. Not before.”

“Please,” I gasped.

“Not yet.”

He slowed his thrusts. Deepened them. Forced me to the edge and held me there.

I whined, body trembling.

“Now.”

That was all it took.

I came again, screaming his name, legs kicking, pussy spasming around his cock. My whole body arched off the couch, eyes rolled back.

He thrust twice more... and then finally... finally let go.

With a broken groan, he slammed deep and came hard. Cock twitching. Filling me again with thick, hot cum. So much of it I could feel it spill out around his length as he stayed buried to the hilt.

Neither of us moved.

He collapsed on top of me, still pulsing inside, our bodies slick with sweat and sex and everything we tried to forget.

Minutes passed.

He pulled back slowly, watching as his cum leaked out of me, dripping down onto the couch.

I didn’t speak.

Neither did he.

He grabbed a towel from the table, wiped me clean with more care than I expected. Then leaned down, pressed his forehead to mine.

“I told myself this wouldn’t happen again.”

I blinked up at him. “You always say that.”

He sighed.

“I mean it this time.”

I didn’t answer.

Because we both knew the truth.

I’d take it again.

And he’d come back.

Because I was the only thing in his life that didn’t break when he fucked it.

With the memory of The Great War still scarring London, social changes are in the thick, sooty air. In the 1920s the city is choking on coal smog, caught in a bitter friction between traditional Victorian restraint and an uninhibited post-war generational shift.

When a wealthy Mayfair wife discovers her husband's hidden collection of smuggled foreign pornography, her initial shock collapses into a dangerous, obsessive arousal. Awakening her own buried carnal desires, she begins to aggressively indulge in every forbidden act their minds can think of, entirely unaware of an unseen, conscious witness. Is it truly there, or is she slowly descending into madness?

As the pair navigate their love and lust, they also face other trials that test their connection. The couple chronicled their feelings, fears, discoveries, and transformations throughout their journey. Not everything is as it seems in the Giles home.

From the recorded statements of Thatcher, Anne (Ms.) — July 2nd, 1927

… I still think about them...

From the personal diary of Clara Giles — October 10th, 1925

...Another dreary day, I'm afraid. The only thing colder than the air outside is my, once, dearest Julian. He's become more distant as the days go by. It's been four weeks since he's touched me. And it was April when I last enjoyed it. Mother says it's normal. She says the honeymoon period is over and I should accept that this is part of growing together. I understand the life of a solicitor can be stressful, so I excuse dear Julian for being tired when returning home. But it's simply not fair at the same time.

I am a woman; I have needs. I need them met, not just climbed on top of on the rare occasion my husband needs a warm sheath to release inside of. I once, not too long ago, felt like the object of his desire. He was full of passion and tenderness when we'd lay together. I felt alive when he was inside of me. I'd beg to feel him touching me deeply and feel his warmth spill out to fill me. We couldn't keep our hands off each other since the day he first started courting me. I felt like a liar wearing white to my wedding, we'd been so unable to control ourselves in each other's presence.

Our bedroom activities only heightened when I discovered his fascination with what he called 'foreign literature' nearly three years ago. Books from places like Paris, Berlin, and the Raj. Hedonistic collections of erotic tales and graphic depictions of sexual acts. At first, he seemed utterly broken that I accidentally opened the steamer containing his naughty secrets. Shame was the only word I could use to describe his expression. And I can't entirely blame him. Upon pulling the book, I was horrified at what I saw. A picture of a woman on her hands and knees like an animal being bred. The artist went to great effort to illustrate the folds of her womanhood enveloping the penis of the man mounting her from behind. That simple act should have been enough to offend polite society, but the creator of this crude drawing included a second man standing in front of her. She had his penis inside her mouth.

I screamed when I saw it. My alarm caught my husband's attention and he saw the book in my hand. I didn't feel well for several days after and had taken to sleeping in a separate chamber. I couldn't look at Julian the same way again. I didn't know what to do about learning my husband was demented. But as the days passed, my curiosity scratched at my mind. While he was at work, I searched our townhouse for the steamer again. I had to get answers. I had to know what was in there. Was this just a single image in a collection of otherwise sane books? Or was it an unhealthy obsession of a depraved man?

After three days of checking every room in our home except his office, I had come to one of two conclusions. First was that he took the steamer out of the house. He could have it at work or had it destroyed. The other was that it was behind the locked door of his office. I'd only been in the room without him a handful of times. He kept the key on him at all times. I could have the lock removed, or found a villain to pick it for me. But I feel like that is a line that once crossed can't be returned from.

In a late November week, Julian left London for business in Manchester. He would be gone for three days and I didn't wish to travel north with him. I elected to stay in our Mayfair townhouse while he attended to the firm's interests. I had almost entirely given up on finding the steamer when I was in the attic looking for the stationery my aunt gave us for our holiday letters. Under a gown of mine, he concealed the chest. A sturdy piece of luggage with leather dyed deep blue with red belting. The first and only time I'd ever seen it was forever burned into my mind. I checked the lid and the latch was locked this time. Had Julian been consistent with his habit of locking his things, I wouldn't have been in that situation in the first place.

Not deterred by the lock, I was determined to confront my dear husband on his return. I went to lift the luggage, but it was entirely too heavy for me. My stomach sank at the thought of how much it weighed and if all the books contained such revolting images. But I am an English woman of strong conviction and did not let the weight of it stop me from having the steamer waiting in our bedroom for his return. Julian would be forced to face me and the evidence of his sickness. So, I recruited the help of two strong young men I saw tending to the damage on Mrs. Loafer's entry door. A schilling each, and they relocated the heavy chest for me.

I would leave the chest sitting between the door and our marital bed. When he returned, he would have no choice but to answer for its contents...

From the Journal of Julian Giles, Esq. — November 29th, the year of our Lord 1922.

Last night, after the day of travel from Manchester, I returned home to a sight that should have, and at first did, make me consider relocating to the Continent and changing my name. I returned home and found my beautiful wife in our bed, awake. That, in itself, was not alarming one bit. But it was the books scattered about the bed. Not books that belonged to her personal library: a collection of dull poetry and fascinations a woman of this century might enjoy. They weren't new books given to her while I was away on firm business, either. They were books that belonged to me. A carefully curated and collected assortment of blue literature smuggled into the country, which I had procured through discrete channels on the black market and even a few from my travels. A collection that the Obscenity Board would see me stripped of my position as a solicitor and jailed for possessing. Clara looked flushed, laying on the bed. Her hair was unkempt and laid out on the pillows she placed behind her to prop her up.

Between me and the bed was the old chest I'd bought to keep my collection in. It didn't match our luggage and looked too shabby for Clara to have any interest in. I had always had it in my mind that if asked about it, I would say it was from my days in university and change the subject. I was never presented with a chance to execute my deception. Prior to last night, the only time my wife saw the luggage in question, I had just placed a particularly rare folio of Thomas Rowlandson illustrations back inside and had not had a chance to lock it before she entered the room. Before I noticed the chest had caught her attention, she opened it, plucked the folio out, and screamed at what she found. We didn't talk for a week after, and it's been a tense month since. Things were returning to normal, I thought, before leaving on business. The sight of the luggage, open with the broken latch limply hanging off, stopped me mid-sentence.

She just stared at me from the bed. Several collections of illustrations surrounded her. There was no denying what she had found. My dirty little secret. My obsession with the obscene. Reading about sexual acts that polite society would condemn as sin. Even in our healthy and active life, I still want more. As I've written before, I, shamefully, practice self-flagellation whilst attending to my own needs for the excitement of the release. I have, while inside my wife, imagined it was not her womanhood around me but instead her mouth. The images from the pre-Empire Indian book on love depicted wives pleasuring their husbands with their mouths, while the German books are much more explicit in their use of 'oral sex.' Nonetheless, the desire to experience such practices and my fear of Clara's apprehension have not been on an even scale. And those are, my dear confidant, some of the less sinful desires I have dreamed of. I dare not go into detail about my interest in buggery.

I am paraphrasing when I quote her as saying, “You know what these are,” upon seeing me enter the bedroom. Knowing I was caught red-handed, I admitted it was a collection of my belongings. But I did not immediately admit to why I was in possession of a sizable collection of erotic literature and pornography. I could maintain a level of deniability. Call them evidence in a case I was representing, or state that I was removing them from circulation. It was what she said next that surprised me. She told me she was upset at first, revolted even, to be married to a degenerate. That she'd spent the last month searching for the evidence of my illness. She said she did it out of love to help cure me of my dependency on these disgusting crutches. But over the last three days, she'd inspected the contents of my chest and found herself aroused.

With her confession, she pulled the hem of her satin nightgown up and exposed her muff. It was glistening with wetness. She said the stories of libertine French girls were her favorite, and she'd touched herself for the first time since she was young while reading them. I watched my wife pleasure herself in our bed while telling me how my books made her feel. I didn't touch her. I closed the lid of the old chest and and sat on it at the foot of our bed. I just watched her, and it was the most satisfying sight.

After she finished with her own needs, she asked if there was anything I secretly desired. There are plenty, but I am as clever as I am patient. I will bide my time and let Clara's exploration into my carnal desires unfold organically. But I am also not a fool, and did not waste the opportunity presented to me.

Clara pleasured me orally last night. And hopefully not for the last time. It was a sensational experience I must report, not entirely what I had imagined, and not in a regretful way at all. If anything, my imagination is sorely lacking the depth to understand how good it could feel. It was a bit awkward at first, and I would venture that if Clara agrees to performing it on me more frequently, her technique will improve. There was a lot to learn from taking my manhood in her mouth for the first time.

Firstly, teeth are made for chewing food, and do not feel good on the sensitive flesh of my penis. The second is to allow her to control the depth and pace. At first, I mounted her face like I would her cunny, and the experience was quite uncomfortable for her. It appears the throat of a woman is not designed to accommodate her husband's penis, and going too far in made for quite a bit of unpleasantness. But I do have to give it to my wife and her desire to please me; she did not let that deter her ambitions and asked me to lay on the bed on my back. She knelt beside me like a woman below her position, held the base of my penis, and moved her head up and down my length. The change of positions and her taking charge of the motions was an incredible idea of hers, and soon I achieved release. Which brings us to the third lesson. She said my seed tasted bitter on her palate. As I released, my warmth flowed into her mouth as it would normally fill her. Her face scrunched and her cheeks filled. She did not remove her mouth until I was finished, then looked around our bed before making a series of forced swallows. She said had she known, she would have kept a handkerchief beside her. She did not want to be unladylike and spit my seed out in front of me, so she was forced to consume it. She said it was warm and bitter, and it took effort to maintain her composure while I filled her mouth. I haven't yet admitted to her, but seeing her commit to swallowing it only aroused me more; even writing this has given me an erection.

I mounted her twice more, more traditionally of course, afterward. We used the Eastern illustrations to guide us and find new heights and positions for our bodies. I have dismissed the staff for the day, as we intend to indulge in shared debauchery until our bodies are incapable of performing...

From the personal diary of Clara Giles — August 27th, 1923

Today is a good day, I'm pleased to report. Julian had commissioned a portrait of me and it was finally delivered and placed on display. I wasn't allowed to see the work while it was in progress; my dearest husband wanted to preserve the excitement until it was unveiled. He arranged a small supper for us and a few select guests, including my youngest sister and her betrothed. While my family, publicly, doesn't approve of her marrying a son of a “man that sat out the war,” he was nothing but cordial and quite charming. I don't see how it is his fault his father is a coward. And it is an open secret in the family that Father only agreed to his request to marry her because he had already deflowered her and no other man would want a woman that was no longer intact. Mother discovered the two of them in the family stables mid-act before a Sunday meal once. I'm not entirely sure it wasn't Father's decision; I imagine sometimes he offered the poor coward's son two options: marry Elizabeth or go on a fox hunting trip with Father that he won't return from. If that's the case, perhaps the cowardly bone is an inherited trait.

But I'm rambling on about Elizabeth when tonight was about me. Julian invited the artist to attend tonight, and the painting sat on an easel under a cloth for the entire meal. I couldn't keep my hands off of Julian. Oh, the scandal that would have broken if any of our guests knew I was playing with him through his trousers under the table. I so wanted to disappear inside the tablecloth and engulf him with my mouth. Julian always enjoys when I perform fellatio on him. I remember so vividly this spring when he had me tuck myself under his desk and 'service' him while meeting with clients. I have gone back to re-read the entries in my journal from those days. I have to admit, I don't get much done in the way of tasks other than rubbing myself raw when reliving those adventures.

At the end of the meal, it was finally time for the grand reveal. The masterpiece. The artist unveiled the work and it was everything I could wish it was. I looked beautiful in a white evening gown made of layers of silk taffeta. That very dress was a slight scandal when I debuted it at Marion Bramberton's Winter Formal Gala early this year. My bare shoulders and its “threateningly” low neckline told the older generation that this is what a woman of the twenties looked like. On the way home, in the back of our carriage, Julian found his way under all the layers of organza and performed cunnilingus on me. That gown will always hold a special place in my heart, which is why I elected to be captured forever in it.

The painter captured my features and expression like one of the great Italian masters. His every brushstroke was smooth and transitioning into the next. Moving from one color to the next with a natural flow. He captured the lighting and soft shadows with more accuracy than a photograph. The portrait is so lifelike. It looks almost as if I could sit down across from it and have a conversation with myself.

The entire evening felt like one long, teasing stroke of one of Julian's long ostrich feathers he adores tickling me with. The entire time I had to stay seated and play the part of a proper woman. It felt like last May when he bound my wrists and ankles to one of the carver chairs in our dining room and dragged that feather all over my naked body. I begged him all night to end the, wonderful, torture and just take me. My smooth cunny was dripping into a pool between my thighs by the time he untied me and bent me over our formal dining table. I couldn't wait for our guests to leave and let him have his way with me.

But, I did contain myself. Mostly. I snuck off to the washroom and 'relieved' the tension in my knickers between courses. Poor Julian nearly choked on an olive when I, very quietly, told him what I had just been up to. After the meal, he said he wished we had more acquaintances that accepted our more laissez-faire attitude towards sex so he could have had me laying naked on the table through the entire meal for all our guests to see. I called him very Grecian to make such a suggestion. His response was to show me how Grecian he could be.

While I do enjoy a bit of sodomy, and tonight was no exception, I always feel a bit sore and tender after. But maybe it's that soreness that makes the experience? I can feel him late into the next day when he takes a trip through the back door. I feel utterly claimed by my husband, like he is one of the grand explorers of the Empire. Even now while I toil away writing, I can still feel what his body does to my most forbidden of places. It is much like when he takes a switch to my bare bottom; I feel it when I sit, but this is deeper and even more intimate. Oh, diary, I intended to write about my new portrait when I sat down, and now I'm a gooey mess thinking about my dear Julian's seed dripping from my sore bum while he is sound asleep and I'm sitting at my desk. I know it's not normal for me to write about future endeavors, but I will be treating myself to another round of self-satisfaction right after punctuating this sentence.

I initially posted this last month for the Erotica sub's "Sex Tapes" stories contest, though it also seems like a pretty suitable - if silly - idea for Spooky Season!

*\*\**

“So, in a roundabout way, college *did* equip you for getting a career,” Mark grinned. “Just, not quite the one you expected?”

Cassie laughed. “Something like that. But, to be fair, I always wanted to *write*. I guess it just didn’t occur to me when I was twenty that someone would pay me to write like *this*.”

Mark looked with a kind of amused fondness at his former flame. Cassie had been a bespectacled, freckled girl with an endearing combination of shyness and determination when they’d first met working for the campus newspaper. The determination had stayed, the shyness had not.

Theirs, like a hundred more relationships ventured in the newfound novelties of independence and uncomplicated sex, hadn’t lasted terribly long, but they’d stayed friends up to and beyond graduation, the occasional hook-up and altogether too many details of each other’s personal lives when they saw one another spanning the years since. Cassie’s advice on all things sultry now graced the pages of magazines around the country, just the right side of scandalous to still appear on regular stands and provide gossip around water coolers on Monday mornings for what people had given a trial run that weekend. “Well, you made it,” Mark surmised, clinking his glass to hers with an affectionate smile. “People find sex interesting; gee, who knew?”

Cassie rolled her sea-green eyes. She looked better than ever these days, had turned every head at their college reunion when she’d walked through the door in her black dress. “There’s subtleties to it, Mark. Sex chat is like the opposite of regular reporting: the most important part of the article is what you *don’t* say. Let people imagine what works them up; they’ll do a better job of it than you ever could by telling them, I promise.”

A little scoop for free. The journalist still in Mark chalked it up as a win. “So what’ve you got in drafts right now?”

Cassie eyed him with a bashful smile. “You’ll laugh.”

“I might,” Mark agreed. “But what else is new?”

His friend sighed with exasperation, though the corners of her mouth twitched once more. “Okay, so they’re looking for me to give them a Hallowe’en angle for next month-”

“Of course, because at present it’s undoubtedly our *least* sexualised holiday-”

“Interrupting!” Cassie nudged him with an elegant high-heeled foot, and Mark lapsed into silence for her to continue. “They want some silly ‘spooky season’ story to run with, especially with how big it is on the campuses, so I did a little bit of digging and found… well, it’s *ridiculous*, but…”

“Try me.”

Cassie sighed again with a wry shake of her head. “So there’s these rumours going around about a girl in her final year who was kicked out in April after some antics on spring break. ‘Bringing the college into disrepute’, *yada yada yada*… sad story really, bright girl apparently. Lilith, I think her name was? Anyway, there’s a VHS tape apparently knocking around from the beach house they went away to – girls in bikinis, body shots, just what you’d expect – but some of them were also into that sort of New Age, neo-pagan type stuff, and *apparently* the tape, if it still exists, is, well… *cursed*.”

“I…” Mark suppressed a laugh. “I’m sorry, *cursed?* Like a horror movie?”

“I told you, it’s ridiculous,” Cassie agreed. “I mean, the story I’d *like* to write is about some poor twenty-one-year-old girl who was just having some fun like college kids do and didn’t get to graduate because of it, but of course, they want the sensational one…”

A moment passed. “So, what happens?” Mark prompted.

“What happens when?” Cassie blinked.

“If you watch the tape. What’s the curse?”

Cassie let out a snort somewhere between amusement and derision. “According to the lofty stories of a few frat boys posting on Internet forums, if you watch the tape, then exactly seven days later, for no explicable reason… you’ll bust a nut.”

“You’ve *got* to be kidding me.”

“I mean, it’s not *true!* Some freshman boy lasted about ten seconds on his first time and reached for the dumbest excuse he could think of, sounds more likely…” Cassie shook her head dismissively. “But yes, that’s the crux of it. ‘Cursed Videotape Causes Involuntary Orgasms’: I can see the headline now…” Cassie chuckled as she looked around the near-empty room that a few hours earlier had been thronged with their former classmates. A banner hung half-fallen from the ceiling on one side of the hall: *Welcome, Class of ’92!*

“Hard to believe it’s been ten years, huh?” she mused aloud. "Anyway, where was I before all this? Oh, of course..."

 

\*\*

 

“So I was doing a little bit of digging for you.” Mark was sitting at his bedroom desk. His Saturdays didn’t typically get much more exciting than this since the big promotion, and that seminar presentation wasn’t going to write itself; could you blame him for getting a little side-tracked? “Some Internet forums weighing in on your ‘cursed videotape’ story…”

He could almost picture Cassie rolling her eyes at him at the sound of her voice on speakerphone. “Oh, those things are hopeless, Mark. People can post any old crap on there.”

“Hey, I’ll have you know my journalistic instincts haven’t totally deserted me.” Mark smiled a little to himself as he looked distractedly at one of his more vague paragraphs on the screen. “Anyway, you’re right, most of it sounds like nonsense, but there’s a few bits and pieces that at least probably qualify for a juicy rumour mill…”

“Oh, go on, then.”

Mark clicked off the document and onto the web browser where he’d kept a stack of forum tabs open since the previous night. It had been a little over two days, now, since his initial chat with Cassie at their college reunion. “So there’s been a few recent single-vehicle accidents in the downtown area – no deaths, by some good fortune, all in busy built-up areas, so we’ve had some bystanders around to make observations. Anyway, every driver extricated from the vehicles apparently seemed to have… well, *soiled* themselves.”

From the other end of the line Cassie made a sound of dismissal. “‘Frightened guy pees himself, more at ten.’ C’mon, Mark-”

“Uh, I mean, without going into too much of the details they’ve given us, it doesn’t sound like they peed themselves, Cassie.” Mark wrinkled his nose a little as he reread the messages he’d paused on. “Nope, sounds a little more like… well, your frat boys you described.”

“Phone sex, then. Overexcited. And people get into accidents all the time using cell phones at the wheel.”

“Moving on…” Mark clicked onto the next raft of tabs he had open – local news from that April. “I did a little more reading about your girl, Lilith Morgenstern. Very much \*that\* girl on campus, but a real bright student, too, by the sounds of it.”

“Oh yeah, her grades were great,” Cassie hummed in approval. “But everyone I’ve tried to actually *ask* about her just wants to talk about the raunchy stuff. Parties they’d been to, people she’d set them up with – I mean, if *half* of it’s true, it seems like if you hung out with her for any length of time, you wound up at an orgy or something similar. Not that anyone was complaining…”

“Yeah, that tallies.” Mark hovered over the final page he had open. “Did you know there’s a petition?”

“Huh?”

“To get her reinstated.” His cursor zipped down a list of names, followed by a hefty chunk of anonymous submissions at the bottom. “Arguing she was kicked out unfairly. It’s got a fair few signatures. It was posted on one of the forums – someone’s got a crank theory that if the college lets her graduate, the curse of the tape will be laid to rest.”

“And then what?” He could sense the sarcasm in Cassie’s voice. “Drivers who watched it will stop having involuntary premature ejaculations behind the wheel?”

“Well, one can only hope…”

A moment passed. “That actually *does* sound good, though,” Cassie’s voice mused. “Can you email it to me? The petition, I mean. I might actually be able to do some good, that way, if I could bring it to a wider audience…”

“Sure.” Mark copied the link in and began typing Cassie’s address. “For what it’s worth, I think they’re dead right. I mean I don’t know the exact rules the place has these days, but nothing on the tape looked like more than just some college kids having fun on spring break-”

“Oh, Mark, you actually *watched* that thing?” Cassie said indignantly. “Where’d you even get it?”

“I have my sources.” Okay, so his curiosity had gotten the better of him; he was only human. Truthfully, it had been fairly tame; a few other swimsuit-clad students had flitted in and out, but most of the focus had been on the one he recognised from the article pictures of her expulsion – Lilith Morgenstern, a pretty dark-haired girl who’d grinned at the camera as a gaggle of her classmates had rushed to slurp droplets of champagne from off of her string bikini-clad body. “Anyway, if I suddenly bust in-” Mark checked his watch. “-four days and seventeen hours’ time, we’ll know for sure.”

“Gee, we’ll have to stop the presses for that one,” Cassie said derisively. “Anyway, fire me across that petition. Thanks, Mark.”

“My pleasure, Cassie.”

\*\*

 

It must have been some sort of record. Cassie, having gotten permission to give her bosses something else closer to ‘spooky season’ published her article on Monday. By Tuesday, the college was engaging in damage control, and by Wednesday, it had shamefacedly conceded: Lilith Morgenstern would be allowed to graduate. “*A victory for women across the country against a puritanism that should have been left back in the twentieth century,”* Cassie’s triumphant sign-off on the follow-up draft she sent Mark by email read.

Mark, for his part, did his best to suppress his smile as he sat half-paying attention in his office seminar. It had been a fun little reprise for their old campus journalism days, and nice to know that he’d possibly helped do a little good in the world. Cassie was the real writer of the two of them, the passionate one, but it had been pleasant to step back for a moment. She was coming round tomorrow evening, too. Maybe he’d persuade her to try the champagne trick herself.

Someone knocked on the glass door of the meeting room. Mark glanced up from where he was re-reading his presentation notes, and felt his jaw faintly drop. Dark curls. Mischievously grinning face. A few colourful scraps, not even enough to hide the tan lines left by something more substantial, that just about qualified as a bikini. Lilith Morgenstern shot him a devilish smile.

Nobody else looked up, not even when – Mark’s belly did a flip – the girl opened the glass door and let herself into the room. Did nobody else see her? It was almost at the point where he wondered if his imagination was playing tricks on him. But the rest of the meeting was too vivid in its dullness for him to have dreamt it up, and the way she moved seemed remarkably… real.

Lilith approached him, bare feet noiseless against the carpet. “Time’s up, Mark,” she said softly.

Seven days. He’d watched the tape last Friday while he’d worked from home.

“But…” Mark shook his head slowly. This was patently ludicrous, but even as the obvious, *logical* objections sprung to mind, they weren’t what formed his protests. “But you’re getting to graduate. Cassie ran the story, the college caved.”

“I know.” Lilith beamed at him. “And I really appreciate it. I love Cassie’s stuff, by the way. You can tell her if you want.”

She stretched out her hand, placed it on his shoulder; entirely real, entirely solid, and yet she may as well have been invisible to the rest of the room. Mark for the first time noticed a tattoo on the inner seam of her wrist. A figure seven, on its side and twisted to resemble a set of horns. “Then… then why are you still doing this?” he asked, almost incredulously.

Lilith winked at him. “Because it’s fun.”

She pressed a finger to his lips in a soft *shushing* motion, and sidled into his lap.

“Which compared to the other Big Five’s performances in this quarter, actually represents a- Mark, are you feeling alright?” His departmental lead paused with the pointer hovering against his batch of diagrams to give him a slightly concerned look.

“Fine,” Mark managed.

Now fully straddling him, Lilith rocked her hips. She ground down with almost unreasonable force against the bulge that, despite his best intentions, was starting to strain against his slacks. She bowed her head to nip playfully at his earlobe, and it was all he could do to suppress a gasp. Again, she may as well have been a wraith to the rest of the room, but her body against his was entirely, sinfully tangible.

“This… really isn’t a good time, Lilith,” Mark muttered.

The girl in his lap pouted down at him. “I mean, I’ll stop if you tell me to…”

Her hands were in his hair as she bore down on him, her breasts jiggling in her bikini top as they sat only a few inches from his face. Mark didn’t tell her to stop. It would have been an unbearable request.

“I appreciate your attention, folks,” his departmental lead was continuing. “We’ll take a break in maybe thirty minutes, but for now, this next section is going to be particularly important…”

“See, didn’t I tell you this would be fun?” Lilith beamed once again.

It took long enough that Mark was growing increasingly worried that it would come his turn to present before they were done, but it still felt like an embarrassingly short time had passed. He was straining almost painfully against the fabric of his slacks, the wonderful pressure of Lilith above him, the little breathy moan that escaped her when she found a better angle to properly grind her clit against him through the fabric of her bikini bottoms, muffled as she nuzzled her way into the crook of his neck…

Somehow, Mark managed not to cry out. Flushed, mortified but insatiably aroused, he came right there. Doing his best not to squirm in his seat as Lilith flushed with pleasure on top of him, pushing him to the extremes of oversensitivity as she continued to grind down on the bulge of his throbbing cock. The curse lived on.

There could be worse curses, Mark mused silently.

“Whew.” Lilith sidled off of him again and straightened up. “Take care, Mark.” She swooped down to give him a brief kiss and waved at him tantalisingly as she left. “Give my best to Cassie!”

Mark watched her go, unnoticed by all once again, still feeling dazed and quivering with sensitivity. That post-orgasm clarity was starting to set in, and he was alarmingly conscious of the mess he’d just made. Please let them get to the break and let him slip off to the restroom before it was his turn to present…

Being ill-prepared for a group presentation and cumming from dry-humping. Yep. Lilith Morgenstern had given him the quintessential college experience, alright.

 

\*\*

 

“So, how’d your presentation go?” Cassie kissed him on the cheek as he emerged from the kitchen, her heels rapping on the wooden floor.

“Oh, y’know…” Mark shrugged as casually as he could as he passed her one of the glasses he’d just poured. “Bunch of suits stroking their own egos, not much else to report.”

It had been a miraculous coincidence that he’d picked up his other suit that morning from the dry-cleaners. A hasty excursion during the break to the men’s room and his car and he’d managed to stagger through his own section of the presentation. He could still feel the whisper of Lilith Morgenstern’s breath raising goosebumps on his neck. Mark had decided to treat the whole thing as a bizarre dream. He’d rented enough supernatural movies to know not to stick his nose in any further.

“I feel that.” Cassie kicked off her shoes and curled up on his couch opposite the TV, reaching absentmindedly for the remote. “So, what are we watching?”

Mark made his way over to the stack of VHS tapes on its shelf, musing on what would set the appropriate mood. Romcom? Too cheesy. Straight drama? A little heavy, maybe…

He froze. There, wedged in between a couple of direct-to-video sequels, was a black tape with no box, just a simple label handwritten in marker pen and adorned with crudely drawn hearts on the side: *Spring Break ’02 – Traci’s Parents’ Cabin!*

Impossible. He’d smashed the tape to pieces on his kitchen floor as soon as he’d gotten home.

“We can just see what’s on, if you like,” Cassie called out.

“Sure.” What, then, came next? Did he leave the tape sitting on the shelf for evermore? Did he try and rid himself of it?

Or, well… he did have next Friday off… what exactly would happen if you watched it *again*?

“Oh, and I forgot to mention!” Cassie beamed at him as, distracted, he made his way back over to the couch, looping an arm loosely round her as she cosied up to his side. “They’re doing a big staff party for Hallowe’en, I could use a date to get out of being roped into helping out with ‘corporate HR-approved fun’. You interested?”

The image of Lilith’s last, parting grin for the camera flashed before his eyes. “I’ll… think about it.”

On this night of veil thin
I offer forth this mortal sin
The souls of many trade for one
In hours hidden from the sun
Liquid life soaks through the shroud
Return to me my love avowed

The sky above DSU burned down like a candle while Ester watched and waited on the library steps. She'd read and re-read the printed instructions crumpled in her hand enough times to memorize them. And the campus was already bustling with just what she needed to complete the ritual.

Her costume took about as much effort as any other girl's – some colorful skull makeup, slutty spandex shorts, and platform heels that raised her eyes to chin height for most of the guys on campus. The cropped red hoodie pulled over her sports bra was worn only for school spirit, as it did nothing to fend off the chilly gusts of Autumn wind rustling her thick black locks of hair.

When the clouds overhead were mired in enough inky darkness she burned her instructions, then followed their ashes on the wind toward Greek Street.

Romans and cowboys and angels stumbled and swayed around the lawns of huge frat houses, crushing plastic cups underfoot while clashing DJ sets issued from wide-open front doors. Spirits were high. Souls were plentiful. Ester stalked inside.

"I like your bones!" She shouted to a tall pajama-skeleton ladling dark purple punch into a boot-shaped stein. He looked at her with a woozy grin as she said, "they all look really big."

The pair barely got around the corner from the kitchen before she squatted to inhale his meat, brown ass cheeks bubbling out from the top of her shorts. He swore and bucked between her painted lips, cradling her neck and tugging it ever closer to his groin. She tugged in return at his pajamas and shaft, humming and rolling her tongue while she devoured him. 

When he doubled over on top of her head, eyes rolled back inside his skull, she hungrily swallowed every tangy spurt of cum he rocketed across her tongue. But before he could ask for her number, she was on her feet and gone.

"Glakh, gakh, glagh, glakh!" The bathroom door was only partly closed while a scrawny Viking humped Ester's face against the side of the tub. Drool dripped from the little red rose painted on her chin, but the makeup was waterproof enough to stay put – for a little while anyway. 

The Viking rutted hard and held himself there while his balls emptied, then muttered that he still had to piss. The strange girl evaporated and appeared on the second floor balcony.

Three amigos in mariachi outfits took turns nut-slapping her chin while they knocked back pumpkin ciders, and she was on to the next house before they'd pulled up their pants.

The night grew louder around her as she pulled up her sleeve and added to the tally with the marker from her bra. It would probably look like the tracks of a whole rail yard by the time she was done – hopefully before the clock struck twelve, or else she'd miss her chance.

She cornered and slurped sloppy loads from stragglers around a beer pong game. Then lured a gaggle of freshmen to a side yard to stroke and suck their spunk shooters. They were clearly afraid when she snapped at one of them for cumming early, wasting it on her shoulder and face. But she didn't let them go until every single cock was spent.

Two dozen loads was a lot. She thought it'd be easier to keep it all down; especially doing it for him. To make up for… But she wasn't a porn star, or a sex demon – just a sad girl on a shadowy mission.

She paused outside of the third house, feeling nauseous as she watched all the big-titted sluts in little black cat ears gyrate and cackle under the amber moon. The wind pushed at her from behind, and she shivered as she blew inside.

1. 46. 59. 63.

A baseball legend in a fake mustache asked if she was okay, while holding her ponytail and watching her cover her mouth to keep anything from coming up.

She hesitated, swallowed, burped, "I'm – fine." Her mouth opened again and he stuffed his dick back inside. Her nose burned, her lips leaked, her stomach gurgled in creamy protest. But she steeled herself and let the pitcher pump his batter down into her gut.

Minutes later the lamps at the end of Greek Street cast harsh shadows across a streaky-faced girl in a cum-spattered hoodie. Crushed rose petals were tangled in her unkempt hair, and her thighs were shiny with stripes of cold drool.

"Fuck," she wobbled in place, realizing there were no more houses to stalk, and at least 20 more loads to swallow. She tugged her sleeve up and tried to read the smudged tallies there – but if 'cum-drunk' was a real thing, she was the living picture of it.

The tolling bells of a distant church told her it was already 10 o'clock, and pulled her toward the cemetery.

"Can I suck your dick?" She slurred at a group of guys dressed as slutty bikers, and they collectively grimaced, giving her a wide berth. Her heels scraped the pavement as she lurched through traffic toward the strip, where Monster Mash blared from every patio.

"I.D.?" The doorman at Rocky's held out a hand while swiping through videos on his phone.

"I don't have it…" came a raspy, wet-mouthed reply. When he glanced up he blinked in surprise at the multicolored mess in front of him. Ester looked like an undead jizz mop, and asked, "can I get in if I suck your dick?"

His slime was still slick in her throat as she pushed to the back of the bar, looking for the darkest corner booths she could find. Her head banged the bottoms of tables there while she swallowed a dozen more cocks, and tried to keep from blacking out.

When a bouncer caught her sneaking into the men's bathroom, he tossed her into the alley and frowned at the cum glaze she left on his hands. The rear door slammed shut, and Ester sat up painfully on the icy pavement.

She was nauseous beyond belief, and freezing, and still five or six loads short of her goal. Her hair was half-pulled from her ponytail, and pussy half-hanging out from her shorts, when she hugged her knees and started to cry.

"Well, fuck me – look at this little present all neatly set out for us, lads." A hollow-eyed creep in a pinstripe suit squished toward her through the gutter, shadowed by a handful of other freaks seeking tricks and treats.

Ester lifted her head as the voice approached, wiping the goo from her lips and sniffling.

"Wh-what time is it?" Her voice quivered.

"Just about eleven, doll," the creep sneered. "Worried you'll turn into a pumpkin?"

"No…" The sloppy creature crawled up onto her knees. "I've got a date soon – let's do this quick."

Her ripped shorts barely clung to her hips as she hobbled the rest of the way to the cemetery. Four or five loads streamed down her inner thighs, but the rest were safely mingling in her belly with the others she'd gathered that night.

It was actually a challenge to squeeze beneath the cemetery gate with such a cum-swollen gut, but she managed it. And she could find the grave in her sleep at this point, after visiting nearly every day for a year.

The moon loomed large and golden over the wrought iron gates as Ester collapsed to her knees in the grass before a clean, dimpled headstone.

SHANE ARRIOLA
2004 - 2023
Eternally Beloved

She brushed the stone with her fingers, and said, "on this night of veil thin, I offer forth this mortal sin…"

A crow cawed in flight overhead, and her stomach squealed with discomfort.

"The souls of many trade for one, in hours hidden from the sun."

Tears blurred her vision as heat crept up from her loins to her ears.

"Liquid life soaks through the shroud…"

She felt dizzy. Unnatural.

"Return to me my love avowed."

There was a long silence. Even the wind had seemingly died, blanketing the world with an empty anticipation.

Then, Ester erupted.

Heavy, heaving gurgles of hot, backwashed cum surged from her lips to soak the ground below. Her back arched and face flushed as her body turned itself inside out. Sounds of animal sickness echoed through the cemetery, and the congealed puddle consumed her fingers as they gripped the wormy dirt.

Her head spun and eyelids fluttered as the last of her strength flushed out from her. She slipped forward into the lewd, ritualistic mess with a soggy plop, and came as close to praying as she ever had before.

Time stopped. The moon was devoured by dark clouds. And Ester's heartbeat slowed to near stillness. Her tears mixed with the regurgitated mess saturating the soil. There was no point to this world without him. He was the only one who knew her. Knew what she needed, and who she really was.

She closed her tired eyes and promised – to the spirits, the devil, whoever – that if she could have him back, she would do anything. Forfeit her soul, offer her body – anything.

When the moon reappeared, the man within it leered down at her – and a wretched hand burst from the earth to grip her throat, just the way she liked.

Synopsis: Lyra is on her way to watch our show together. She has a surprise for me, but I’m scared to find out what that entails. 

PART 10 (has links for PARTS 1-9) | PART 11 | PART 12 | PART 13

~

Junior year of high school, Lyra and I had the same humanities class. As usual, she picked the seat next to mine to torment me, but it came in handy. Every time I forgot my textbook, I could count on her to share with me, even if it meant she’d give me the “if you’re that interested in generational works of art, just look at me” monologue basically every time. 

One unit, we were studying Shakespeare, and of course we ended up grouped with each other. Each pair of students had to memorize and perform a scene of their choosing, and Lyra paced the hall while I scanned through my CliffsNotes version of Romeo and Juliet. I chimed in first, "What if we reenact the Tybalt and Mercutio duel? You can strike me down once and for all.” 

Lyra’s expression implied that I’ve either a) ruined her train of thought, b) made a bad suggestion, or c) a mix of both. “And give you the easy way out? Fat chance. I’ve decided we can do Act 1, scene 5.” 

“Shouldn’t I get a say, too?” I muttered to myself, flipping through pages. My eyebrows flashed, and I sighed to myself. “This is a scene between Romeo and Juliet. If I had suggested it, you would’ve laughed in my face.” 

“Why would we not act as Romeo and Juliet in the play called Romeo and Juliet?” Lyra asked, scoffing. She fumed, pacing faster, muttering to herself. “Do you even think?” 

“Do I get to be Juliet, then, since she’s the younger of the two?” I suggested, laughing, fully prepared for her to chuck her copy towards me. 

“Fuck you! I’m not even that much older than you. Besides, I doubt you have the acting chops to pull off Juliet like I can,” Lyra told me. “Line 100, Paxton. You start.” 

“If I profane…with my unworthiest hand…” I started, and Lyra cut me off.

“Could you be any more stiff?” she chided me. 

“I don’t know what half of this means.” I chuckled. “Can’t I just read the simplified version?” 

“We have to perform the original one,” Lyra told me, fiddling with the sweater vest of her uniform. She sighed, putting a palm to her face. “I’m going to ruin my perfect grade, and it’s going to be your fault.” 

“Okay, okay, I’ll try harder,” I said, calming her down (even if only a little). It was a long evening. We spent hours together, running lines until I had it mostly down. Lyra came up with some makeshift choreography, considering it was a dancing scene. I felt ridiculous walking in a circle with my hand against hers, but it felt like we were putting more effort than some of our other classmates. 

“Remain still while I pray,” I recited, reading from my book. Lyra had coached me a few times on delivery, and this time she didn’t have anything to say. Instead, she stood in place with her eyes closed and lips puckered. “Um. What are you doing?”

“Waiting,” Lyra answered, peering at me through one eye. 

“For?”

“The kiss. Obviously,” she snapped, huffing through her nostrils. 

“I’m not doing that.”

“It’s in the stage directions!” Lyra said. 

“I don’t care,” I argued, scanning the book with widened eyes. “We don’t have to go that far, do we?” 

“It’s called acting. Have you heard of it?” Lyra taunted, crossing her arms. “It’s not like I want to kiss you or anything. It’s just part of the scene.” 

Silence fell between us. I read the scene a few more times over, and Lyra looked over with pursed lips. 

“Okay,” I started, breaking the silence and closing my book. “I’ll do it.” 

“Really?” Lyra asked, baffled.

“Yeah, if we can get some extra credit for it. It has to count for something, right? We’ll need all the points I can get, because I guarantee you we are not getting full credit on this at the rate I’m going.” 

“Oh my God, Paxton,” Lyra groaned, throwing her arms up in defeat. “Never mind. Let’s do the Tybalt and Mercutio duel instead.” 

~

I type up a text to send to Lyra and hit send: 

We still on for today? The new episode goes live around 7pm, so any moment

She responded right away:

Yeah. Almost there. Just had to change first after work. 

I have a surprise for you, by the way. 

Can I have a hint? 

Lyra sends a selfie of her holding a trench coat shut. She’s in the backseat of the car (Roger’s probably driving her), and what makes the picture is an overexaggerated wink and kissy lips. 

It’s cute, I guess.

You’re either going to flash me, or you’re dressed as Columbo, trying to solve a mystery

What’s the mystery? 🧐

You’re looking for whoever MURDERED THAT PUSSY LAST NIGHT (it was me)

I should block you 🙄😂

I stop while I’m ahead. It’s victory enough that I earned a laughing emoji. Lyra leaves me on read, and I pace my apartment, staring at my phone, fully expecting a call or a text when she’s pulling up. 

A knock sounds instead, and I look at the door. Peering through the eyehole, I grimace when it’s blocked. I ask, “Uh, who is it?” 

“Housekeeping, dipshit.” Lyra’s voice couldn’t be any more distinct. I open the door, and she opens her trench coat. “Tada!”

My eyes widen when Lyra’s showing off our old high school uniform. A freshly ironed blouse fitted with a standard-issue necktie, with a sweater vest layered over. A grey pleated skirt—which appears to have its length altered—and tights with loafers. 

“Absolutely not,” I say, closing the door without skipping a beat. 

“Hey—” Lyra says, holding the door open with her foot, and pushing with all her might. “What gives? Let me in!”

“It’s like seeing the ghost of Christmas past,” I joke, easing the pressure on the door. Lyra stumbles into my apartment, and I catch her, supporting her by her elbows. “Do I even wanna know why you’re dressed like that?”

“It’s called role-playing. Have you heard of it?” Lyra asks, pushing me away. She takes off her coat and hangs it on one of the hooks by the door. “I thought it would be fun. Don’t you have some kind of schoolgirl fantasy? It's common in porn, isn't it?”

“Yeah, in porn. It's not my cup of tea, personally,” I say, sighing. 

“You seemed really into it when we were still in high school,” Lyra offers, tilting her head. 

“What? No, it wasn’t—”

“Paxton, there's no one less subtle than a teenage boy trying to sneak a peek at a girl’s chest or under her skirt when she’s walking up the stairs. Don't think I haven’t caught you looking at me before.” Lyra is being gracious by not laughing.

“Well, that was then. Now, it’s weird,” I tell her, massaging my temples. “I think you were better off with the detective getup.”

“Yep, definitely. Now we’re gonna investigate the death of whimsy,” Lyra says, leaving her loafers at the door.  

“I’m not having this conversation,” I say, laughing. “Right now, we should focus on one thing, and that’s this new episode. We made the effort of getting you up to speed on the series, so we’re gonna watch.” 

“It only took as long as it did because someone couldn’t keep their hands off me,” Lyra says. 

“What?” I tell her, feigning innocence. “I’ve seen it before, so it’s not like I’m missing anything.” 

Lyra rolls her eyes and plops down at the far end of the couch, crossing her legs. When I sit down next to her and press play, she turns towards me and sets her feet on my lap, wiggling her toes. “I squeezed into those uncomfortable loafers for you. The least you could do is massage my feet.” 

I roll my eyes and knead into her arches. My thumb glides along nylon stockings. Ignoring her shallow breaths, I comment, “You couldn’t have been wearing them that long. It’s not like you’re wearing them to work, so I highly doubt your feet are hurting that much.” 

“If you have time to complain, that means you’re not concentrating all your efforts into the massage, so less talking and more massaging,” Lyra says, smirking, not even looking my way. 

A few minutes fly by, and I stop, shaking my hands and stretching my joints. “Can I stop now? My hands hurt.”

She shakes her head to herself. Lyra lifts a leg, and digs her heel into my cheek, ignoring my wince. “Nope. My heels still hurt. Focus there.”

I scoff in her direction, and she looks at me, offering a nervous smile. “Please?”

The uncharacteristic politeness takes me off guard, and it’s even a little…cute. There’s no way I can really deny her at this point, so I power through it, despite not being able to feel my thumbs. 

“Hey,” Lyra starts, and I don’t like the sound of her voice. The usual taunting tone matched with a wide grin makes for a bad combination. “You’re not into feet, are you?” 

“No?” I say. When she giggles in response, I imagine my answer wasn’t anywhere near as convincing as I meant it to be. 

“Are you sure? You’re getting hard. That’s gotta mean something,” she says, fighting a giggle.

“Well, you’ve been using your other foot to press against my crotch,” I argue, too embarrassed to look her way. I focus on the show instead—the best I can, anyway.

“Have I? I didn’t even realize.” Lyra’s toying with me, and she presses her sole harder against the bulge in my pants. My breath hitches, and I try to turn my focus away from her. When I stop reacting, she pulls her feet away, and for a moment, I think I’ve made it through the worst of her teasing today.

Lyra brings her legs up to kneel on the couch and crawling towards me slowly. She looks at my lap briefly before turning her eyes towards me, flashing a grin. Rubbing the top of my bulge, she grips along the sides to stroke me through my pants.

“Are you even watching?” I ask her. My voice shakes when she grips me harder. 

“Yeah,” she lies, undoing my belt and pants to pull them down far enough for me to spring out of them. Lyra licks her lips, eyes locked onto my dick. “Fuck…”

“If you’re staring at my dick, I don’t think you’re staring at the screen,” I struggle to say when she wraps a hand around me. “More…w-watching…”

“How about this?” She bobs her head, taking as much of me in her mouth as she can, but keeps her eyes locked onto mine. That eye contact is deadly, and as much as I want to watch this new episode, she definitely has my attention now. 

Lyra lifts off of me to breathe. She strokes along my length, now covered in her spit. “What is it? Keep watching.”

I try my best. Despite having the subtitles on, I can’t make out what anyone is saying. I put a hand on the back of her head, pushing her down, and she nods, moving lower until I hit the back of her throat. 

When Lyra pulls away again, thin, stringy spit trails connect her mouth to me. She wipes her mouth clean, flashing a toothy smile. “Does it feel good?“

“Y-yeah, but I thought you came here to watch.”

“I did! Can’t I want more than one thing?” she asks. 

“So greedy,” I tell her, shaking my head. “I thought I was trying to prove to you that we can hang out without having sex.”

“We can always try again later, but right now, I’m having too much fun distracting you.” Lyra shrugs, licking along my shaft. She jerks me faster while her lips lock around my tip, swirling around the head, finding every ridge. 

“No more distractions,” I say, sighing, and she perks up, wiping her mouth clean. Lyra’s about ready to apologize, but her eyes widen when I turn off the TV. I stand up, help her to her feet, and walk us towards the bed. My face is too flushed to look back at her, and I mutter. “You deserve my full attention.”

I set her on the edge of the bed, and before she can lean for it and take me back into her mouth, I pull her sweater vest off and loosen her tie while she works the buttons of her blouse. “Let’s get you out of this.”

Lyra just smiles, lifting her ass off my bed so I can take her skirt and stockings off.

I strip what’s left of my clothes and ease her down, spreading her legs to put my face between them. Kissing near her entrance, her stubble tickles my face, and I lap at her slit, pressing my tongue until it drags wide against her. 

“Umm, sir,” Lyra coos, giggling. Her laugh covers the back of my neck in goosebumps, and I swear my heart skips a beat. “I'm pretty sure I was in the middle of going down on you.”

“It's my turn now,” I tell her, licking slowly and taking my time. “I'm priming you for later.” 

“You're not gonna make me come first?” Lyra asks. “Some gentleman.” 

“Oh, I will.” Licking my lips, I tease her slit with two fingers. I slide them in when she gasps and grabs my hair. Her walls are already closing in on me, and I grind before my tongue touches her clit again. “It doesn’t take much for you to finish for me.”

“Don’t get cocky,” She pushes out through heavy breaths. Lyra can try to fool me all she wants, but her body doesn’t lie. Clutching the sheets, her hips grind into my face as her heels press into the mattress. “I’m n-not even close…”

Lyra shuts her mouth, stifles her moans, enter eyes shut. Her face twists in blissful agony, and I love the sound of the breaths catching in her throat. The slightest grin forms, and she exclaims, “Fuck—”

Her mouth parts when I slide a third finger in. My tongue flicks faster, running over her clit, and I peek my eyes open to watch her come. Each little breath makes me press harder against her sweet spot, and the more I curl against her, the more her back and neck arch off my bed. 

Lyra's perfect thighs squeeze my head. Her walls quake around me, pulsing around my fingers, and her moans muffle when her legs press harder against my ears. I rub her rigid walls until the tension in her body loosens again. When she quiets, all I can hear is Lyra panting for air

She grips me by my neck and pulls me up, scooting up higher on the bed. Lyra stares at my lips with half-lidded eyes, and I give her what she wants, locking my lips against hers. A moan slips out past her lips, and I kiss her harder for it.

Her fingers run through my hair, and I feel nails graze against my nape. Through moans, she asks, “Condoms…you have condoms?”

I break away from the kiss with raised eyebrows. “No? You told me you don’t like the feel of them. Half the time—when we did use them—you would just tear them off anyway.”

I slide my hardness along her wet slit; her body twitches when I pass over her clit, grinding into it. With a smirk, I tell her, “I know you love it raw. And I bet you’re gonna beg me to fill you up.”

Before I can prod in, her palm presses against my stomach. Her fingers tremble. “I stopped taking my birth control.”

“Really?” I ask. My eyes narrow, and I lower myself to kiss her. “Any reason why? Just asking, of course.”

“It’s just a hassle, remembering to take it every day,” Lyra explains bashfully, “and I feel like it was affecting my libido.”

“That does explain why you’ve been extra horny lately,” I joke, heart tightening when she rolls her eyes at me.

“You’ll pull out, right?” Lyra asks.

“Of course,” I tell her. My breath hitches when I feel her wetness against my tip. “Or should I step out and grab some just in case?”

“Are you telling me you’ll feel so good that you won’t be able to last?” she teases, and when I take too long to respond, her grin widens. “I bet you’re even more excited to fill me up now, aren’t you?”

“No—” I argue, heat spreading across my cheeks. “It’s just about being safe. It doesn’t take much, I’ve heard.”

“If you’re that spooked, just pull out, and I’ll give you a handy or something,” Lyra offers, grabbing my dick and guiding it closer to her entrance. “Just fuck me already.” 

I groan when I dip deeper into her. “But you feel so good…”

“That’s what I thought.” Lyra laughs to herself, resting her hands on my back when I start moving. Shallow thrusts aren’t meant to tease her, but are more for my own self-control. Through slow breaths, she tells me, “Come on. You can’t be that close already….go harder.”

My base slams into her hips, and she gasps, grinning, holding the back of my neck to ease me down for a kiss. Her words slip out between short bursts of kisses: “That’s more like it.”

I push her knees back, and the weight of my body keeps them pinned against her torso. Each of her breaths is sharper when I hit the peak of my strokes. Easing in and out her, I can’t help but groan her name. She feels so tight in this angle.

“Oh fuck—just like that,” she says.

I keep my pace, and every slow stroke has her closing around me. I follow her rhythm. Whenever she tightens, I push as deep as I can, only pulling out when she loosens again. Her breaths get huskier, and she looks up at me with shimmering eyes. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” I tell her. Her fingers curling against my back send a shiver down my spine. I push through until she holds me tight and her lips lock against mine. She spasms under me, moving her hands to my ass to guide me deeper.

“I’m coming—” she whimpers before the moans that follow catch in her throat. I quiet her with a kiss, and I can feel her grinning against my lips. Lyra pulses around me, gripping me tight, and it’s so unfortunate that I have to pull out. 

When I break the kiss and we’re both gasping for air, she reaches up for my hair, stroking the back of my neck. Staring into my eyes, Lyra asks, “How am I supposed to have you pull out when you make me come like that?”

“I’m glad you came when you did, because I don’t know how much longer I can go,” I admit, breaths running ragged.

She bites her lips, and her eyes cycle between my eyes and mouth. “You…you don’t have to…”

I feel my cheeks warm, and I look away. “I don’t know.”

“It should be fine,” Lyra assures, tracing her hands along my shoulders to ease me down to her. Even though I stop just short of contact, she closes the distance, leaning up to meet my lips. “If it happens, it happens.”

Even after I taper my pace, every stroke is agony. She’s gripping me tightly, and her warmth is so welcoming. Her touch on me is so gentle. The slow strokes of her fingertips against my skin have me breathing deeper. Even when she nibbles at my lip, it’s softer than it ever has been, as if she’s trying not to hurt me. When her eyes meet mine, I have to look away from how bright they are. Lyra licks her lips, looking down. “Would it really be so bad?”

There’s a sweetness in her voice I’m not used to, and it makes me thrust harder. My forehead rests against hers, and her fingers against my scalp purge the thoughts in my head. Through a half grin, I push out, “I’m definitely not thinking straight.” 

“Like I said before, if you wanna stop, you can pull out, and I’ll finish you off, but I’m just saying that I wouldn’t mind.” She pushes me out and lowers her legs, exhaling sharply when she’s finally able to stretch them again. Lyra leans up, pressing a hand against my back, and she kisses my chest. Her hands find my dick, and after a few strokes. She looks up at me. Those eyes draw me in, and with the tilted head, she says, “Just tell me what you want.”

I mumble, and she cups a hand behind her ear. “What was that? I didn’t hear you.”

“I wanna finish inside of you.”

Lyra smiles, and it’s weird because it lacks the taunting nature it usually would. She leans back, bringing me with her, guiding my hardness back into her. “Fuck, you’re already throbbing…someone’s excited.”

A nervous laugh leaves my lips, and when she pulls me down to her chest, I rest on those soft breasts, feeling her every breath. 

“It’s okay to go slow. Take your time. We don’t need to rush.” She pets my hair, holding me down. Her smile is filled with warmth. “We can enjoy it.”

My hips roll, and I ease in and out of her. Every deep breath is an attempt to hold back when I feel her clutch around me. I make the mistake of looking down at her; she has a glow to her face, and that pink tint across her cheeks is so cute. She moans when I press my hardness into clit, and it only makes me want to fill her up more. 

“Lyra…” I tell her, struggling to breathe as I wrap my arms tighter around her. “I’m close…” 

She nods, wrapping her legs around me, using her heels to pull me deep. “Good. Give it to me. I want it.”

I fold her legs back again, but keep my tempo. As much as I’d love to piston deep into her, slow and steady feels right for the moment. I want to feel her warmth around me. I want to see her expression overcome with ecstasy.

Right now, I want her more than anything. 

My arms encircle her, and I hold her close as my hips press against her, grinding when I’m at the end of my thrusts. 

“Fuck!” she calls out, holding my head and me taking my lips. I feel her tongue enter my mouth, and  I accept it, kissing her deeper. I lose track of how many ropes I’ve shot into her, but I hold myself as deep as I can, and the last few spasms milk me of whatever’s left.

I shudder when I pull out and collapse beside her. Part of me wants to hold and her pull her into my arms, but I know that’s the last thing she would want. I stare at the distance between our bodies. It’s only a few inches, but I feel like I can’t breach that wall between us. 

It’s quiet, and I break the silence. “Hey, I know you think I’m kind of unreliable, but if anything…er… happens, just let me know. I’ll take responsibility.”

Lyra laughs, patting me on the shoulder. “Sorry, Paxton, but when I said I stopped taking my birth control, I lied.”

I let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God. I don’t think I’m actually ready to be a father.”

“Then with that half-assed speech from before?” Lyra asks, shoving my shoulder as she laughs. “And you don’t have to sound so relieved!”

The laughter subsides, and she smiles, staring at the ceiling. “Maybe it is for the best. I don’t think we need you passing your genes on to the next generation.”

“If anything, I hope they get my personality,” I tell her, smiling. “That mixed with your looks? They’re set for life.”

I flinch when Lyra sits up suddenly, moving closer to glare at me. She blinks slowly. “Did you just say that I’m good-looking?”

“Um…yeah. I guess I did,” I answer. My face feels hot. “I mean, that’s nothing you didn’t know. Right?” 

“Of course I know!” She crosses her arms and falls down to the mattress. Lyra mutters, “It’s about time you admitted it.”

“Why’d you lie about the birth control thing?” I ask, sitting up. It’s tempting to touch her shoulder or waist; her skin looks so inviting. 

“Well, after the uniform fiasco, I had to improvise,” Lyra says.

“Why go through the trouble of roleplaying?” I lie back down, turning my head until our eyes meet. The knuckles on my fingers graze hers, and she pulls away. 

“It’s fun to be something you’re not,” she answers. There’s something bittersweet about her smile. After rolling onto her side to face me, she flashes a more familiar grin. Lyra puts her feet on mine.

“Shit! Your feet are so cold,” I say, scooting away. 

“Stay on your side of the bed!” she tells me, threatening me with frigid soles. For ever inch she moves closer, I move back.

“This is my bed, so shouldn’t I make the rules?” I argue.

“I’m the guest!” 

I nearly fall off the bed, but Lyra catches me, holding me close, grinning in victory as she tangles her legs into mine. Her feet are still freezing, but I get used to the feeling. My heart pounds when I think about how close she is. My stomach drops when I realize she’ll pull away at any moment, so I make the most of this tiny contact. 

Her eyebrows furrow. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“Like…what?” I ask, feeling self-conscious.

“Like you want to put a baby into me,” Lyra says, laughing smugly to herself.

Embarrassment warms my face again, and I barely get the words out, “I d-don’t! Look at my apartment? Does any of that look like I’m ready for fatherhood?”

“You’re right. How is there no TV in your bedroom? Isn’t that why you wanted me to come over?” 

The apartment is always so much louder when Lyra is over. She's always talking. There's always something for her to say, and she has an unmatched need to have the last word, even about the most trivial matters.

I used to hate it, but when I'm here alone, the lingering echoes of her laugh and voice leave me with a warmth no blanket can match. 

When I first moved into this apartment, I was excited to have a space of my own. No roommates, no conflicts, no one to encroach on my time. But it's only when Lyra's legs idly rub against mine right now that I realize how lonely it can be here. 

Maybe…maybe it doesn't always have to be that way. 

It’s Saturday morning, game day.
The invitations say noon, but a few friends will be showing up around ten to help with the final touches.
David and Stacy wake up about eight, fool around for a few minutes before getting up to take a shower. They fool around a little more in the shower but they don’t finish. They want to stay aroused.
Besides, this is the one day a year they have permission to fuck other people. Last year David had only been dating Stacy for a couple months, she was not comfortable with that so out of respect, David abstained from extra curricular activities. This year, Stacy said, if the right situation was to present itself, she would do it.
When searching for bathing suits for today, they couldn’t find what they were looking for. Especially for David. They wanted something that would match. They found plenty of white bikinis the could have cut the liner out, but nothing that matched the one or two white mens suit they found. After calling and emailing about a dozen seamstresses, they found one that said she had the perfect material for them. It had to be a very light weight material that was opaque when dry and transparent when wet.
David and Stacy drove an hour to meet the seamstress in the city, her name is Amy.
The material was perfect. David and Stacy tell her the style they wanted. Stacy wanted tiny little triangles to cover her nipples connected by string with some type of a pattern. For the bottoms she wanted a tiny little skirt that just barely covers her pussy lips.
David wanted a pair of short shorts like eighty’s basketball shorts. But somehow he got talked into a g-string with a pouch. No idea how that happened, but Stacy can be very persuasive.
Amy drew out what she thought they wanted, made adjustments and came to a final decision. For the strings on both their suits, Amy will take thin strips of the same material and braid them together.
Amy took their measurements and told them they will be ready in a week.
A week late they were back and they tried them on. David isn’t super endowed, but this pouch barely contained his junk. Stacy said it was perfect.
Stacy’s suit was exactly as she described it.
Amy asked, “are you going to a swingers resort or cruise?”
David said, “no, we just like to show off.” He pulled out his phone and shows her the flyer for the Summer Bash and Extravaganza.
Amy looks at it and says, “that looks like a lot of fun.”
David says, “I’ll email you an invitation.” Seeing her wedding ring, “you and your husband should come.”
“Why would I want to bring him. He’ll just put a damper on things?”
“Okay then, bring your boyfriend or a girlfriend, or come stag.”
Amy laughs and says, “well no boyfriend, we’ll see about bringing a girlfriend.”

After they get out of the shower, they put their suits on. Stacy adds a white mesh coverup that comes down to mid thigh. David puts on a pair of white tear away shorts over his pouch.

The first to arrive is Veronica and her husband Andy. Veronica was David’s first girlfriend after his divorce. His first “Babygirl”. She was just twenty years old and David was thirty-five.
That is also the time when David bought the lake house. He and Veronica remodeled it and threw the very first summer bash as a housewarming party. They were together for six years. Now at thirty-five and two kids later, Veronica’s body can still put most twenty year olds to shame.
Veronica hasn’t missed a single bash. She helped build it, so she feels a special connection to this place.
Next to arrive is Jeff, Doug, and Irene. Irene is David’s most recent ex. Jeff is a former colleague of David’s, and Doug is Jeff’s college buddy who is now dating Irene when he is in town. He is making plans to divorce his wife as soon as her impending promotion is official. That way she will be making more money then him and he won’t have to pay alimony.
Soon people are flowing in. David and Stacy are at the gate welcoming their guests as they come in. Some already dressed for the party, or undressed might be a better way to describe it. Some dressed more modestly with coverups.
Most of the more experienced guest arrive with an RV, that way, at the end of the evening, they don’t have to try and drive after a day of drinking.
The flyer even states, anyone caught driving drunk will be permanently banned from future events.
All of David’s ex’s have a standing invitation to stay in the house.
There are stacks of pillows and blankets on the side patio for anyone to grab and find a place to crash.
Just as the flow of people falls to a trickle, in walks Tracy and her husband Carl. Tracy is David’s ex before Irene. Tracy is wearing a tiny bikini top and a skirt kind of like Stacy’s, sitting just below a baby bump.
Hugs and kisses are exchanged and they find out Tracy is six months pregnant.
“Well I guess you’re going to be the only one sober at the end of the night.” Stacy says to her.
“I may be sober, but don’t expect me to be any less rowdy than normal.”
“She has been off the hook horny since becoming pregnant.” Carl injects. “I might need some help tonight.”
“I’m always one to lend a hand, or other body part, to help a friend.” David says.
Everyone laughs.
It’s one pm and just about everyone is here. The only noteworthy one not here is Jessica. David’s ex between Veronica and Tracy. But they knew it was a slim chance she could make it.
Jessica is now living in New York and a lawyer at a major law firm. She makes it out about every three years.

David leads Stacy up the steps onto the stage. The band finishes their song and the lead singer introduces their hosts.
David and Stacy walk to the front of the stage hand in hand, waving to everyone. David takes the microphone.
“Thank you all for coming. Who was her for the very first party, when it was just a housewarming party?” Five hands come up.
Already knowing the answer, David asks, “who has been to every single party since?”
Only one hand goes up, Veronica’s.
David points to Veronica and says, “Veronica was with me when I bought this place, she helped me remodel the house and throw the first bash, which was just a housewarming party. She helped build the foundation for what we have today. Everyone, give Veronica a round of applause.”
“The next person I want to recognize is Jessica. Jesica came into my life after Veronica decided to leave me for a younger man.”
Laughter from the audience.
Unfortunately Jessica can’t be here today. But her contributions can’t be overlooked. As this was building, and I was fighting with the HOA that formed AFTER I bought this place, she was the guiding force in the legal proceedings that allows us to be here today.”
Another round of applause.
“Next is Tracy. Tracy is the wild child that turned this into a real party of debatchery. She brought in the stripper pole. She brought in the wild contests.”
Everyone applauded, “yea Tracy.”
“Next on my list of important people is Irene. Irene and I were together for several years. She is the organizer. She brought in the professional beach volleyball courts and the horseshoe pits. She streamlines the costume contests.”
Where is Irene” Irene raises her hand and everyone yells, “ yea Irene”.
“Now that brings us to today. Last year, Stacy and I had only been together a couple of months. There was no way I could ask her to take charge of anything. This year, she has taken charge of everything.”
Turning towards Stacy, “thank you for everything you have done.” David leans over and kisses her.
“Okay, who is here for the first time?”
About a dozen hands raise.
“You are in for a treat. BUT, this is NOT a free for all. ASK, before you touch. Consent and respect is a must. You will be given one warning, and this is that warning.”

“Jeff, come up here.
“Once again, Jeff will be captaining the ‘Love Boat’.” A thirty foot pontoon boat.
“I KNOW HIM.” Came a yell from the crowd. It was Amy, the seamstress.
“He ghosted me after a hot night together in college.”
“You gave me a fake phone number.” Jeff retorted.
“Amy, I’m so glad you could make it.” David said. “Did you bring anyone with you?”
Amy shrugs her shoulders, “nope, just me. I guess all my friends are losers.” Amy is wearing a bikini made from the same fabric as she made David’s and Stacy’s. Only with a traditional bikini bottom.

“Because the volleyball has been so popular since installing them several years ago, this year we are going to have a tournament.”
“Since this was Stacy’s idea, here is Stacy to explain it.”
Stacy takes the microphone, “Thank you Daddy Dave.” She says to David.
Turning towards the crowd, “this will be a double elimination tournament, so each team will play at least two matches. Teams will consist of four players. Each team must consist of at least two females and at least one male.”
“Oh, and one more thing. We have volleyball ‘uniforms’”, she says while signing air quotes with her fingers. “We have white tank tops for all players, and that is the ONLY thing you are allowed to wear.”
“We also have sharpie markers to write your team name on the back of your ‘uniform’. There will be a $1000 cash prize for best team name, as well as $2000 for first place, $1600 for second place, $1200 for third place, and $800 for fourth place.”
“Sign up will be open for one hour so get your team together.”
Stacy hands the microphone back to David who walks to the front of the stage, rips off his shorts, showing his junk in its pouch. “LET THE DEBAUCHERY BEGIN” he yells into the microphone.
The crowd of over one hundred people erupts in a roar. Stacy takes her coverup off and hangs it on the microphone stand.

Stepping down off the stage, David and Stacy run into Becky and Cindy.
David first met them a few yours ago when him and Irene went midnight bowling.
They were collage students at the time.
Becky was the wild one. That night she ate David’s cum out of Irene’s pussy on the hood of the car in the bowling alley parking lot.
They introduce their friend Debbie, who wanted to experience this after hearing Becky and Cindy’s stories.
Becky says, “we want to enter the volleyball tournament but we need a guy, who do you recommend?”
Just then Tracy and Carl are walking by and Tracy says, “Carl will do it. He’s probably tired of me constantly trying to climb on his cock.”
Carl shrugs his shoulders, “sure”.

Jeff is out at the pontoon boat, assisting people on. Amy has found her way out there and is talking to him.
With about twelve people on the boat including Amy, Jeff pulls the boat away from the dock. He turns the boat north and fallows the shoreline about a hundred yards out.
He will do a tour around the lake. If they don’t stop, it usually takes about forty-five minutes to make it all the way around the lake at an easy cruising speed.
If they stop in a cove to swim, it will be longer.

Eight teams signed up for the volleyball tournament and they are writing their team names on the backs of their uniforms.
You have the “Bare Bottom Beachers” and “Carl and the Coeds”.
The kinky Kampers, who consist of Joe, Lisa, Doug (not to be confused with Doug that is dating Irene), and Melissa, who have been coming since year three, after they met David and Veronica camping. They are the only team with two guys on it.
There is “Steve’s Sluts”, “Charlie’s Angels” and “Wayne and the Water Nymphs”.
Neil successfully recruited three women with the biggest breast to form “Neil and the Knockers”.
Jason is six foot six, even with the largest tank top available his junk is still exposed. Being very well endowed, and a “show-er”, they came up with a great name, “Hoes and Hose”.

At this point, there are people spread out all over the ten acres and in the lake.
The house is surrounded by a beautifully manicured lawn. On one side is about a quarter acre with a gazebo and trees providing shade to sit and relax under.
One half of the back lawn is open to the sun and has a couple sprinklers going to cool off in.
The other half is like the side, lots of trees with benches.
The other side is where the caterers are set up. There are tables and chairs set up under the trees on that side, as well as the back porch which runs the entire length of the house.

The dock goes out a hundred and fifty feet and makes a dogleg to the right for another fifty feet, forming a perfect swimming area. This part of the lake has a gradual slope to the shoreline. It drops about a foot every ten feet. So when the lake is full, it is about fifteen feet deep at the end of the dock.

Meanwhile out on the Love Boat, Jeff and Amy are getting reacquainted. Jeff has pulled into a small cove and dropped anchor. Some are jumping off the boat and swimming around. Two couples swam to shore and are lying in the sand.
As they are talking, Jeff leans in and softly kisses Amy on the lips. Amy slightly parts her lips to accept his kiss. Jeff puts his hand behind her head and pulls her in closer as Amy puts her arms around his neck.
What started as a gentle kiss has built into all out game of tonsil hockey.
Jeff brings his other hand up and takes her breast and squeezes it. Her large nipples are now at full attention on her heavy breasts.
Amy is five foot five, of Columbian descent with thirty six EE cup breasts, with the kind of sag you would expect from a thirty-six year old with that size breasts. Her thin waist makes her breast look even more massive. Amy is blessed with that Latino ba-dunka-dunk that drive men crazy.
With the heat of the sun, and the heat between them, Amy is sweating and her bathing suit is becoming very transparent. Her nipples and large dark areola’s are very noticeable.
Jeff suggests they go for a swim to “cool off”. But he is already forming a plan to get into her bikini bottoms.
He remembers Amy as being daring in collage, and with the bikini that she’s wearing, he can tell she still is. But he doesn’t think she would let him fuck her on the boat where ten other people can see.
They jump off the boat on the opposite side that everyone else is on and swim towards the shore. When they get to where they can stand up, they stop and embrace again. Kissing and touching each other.
Jeff pulls the bottom of her bikini to the side and runs a finger up her pussy lips. He remembers her having a landing strip in college, but now she is shaved smooth. With no resistance from Amy, Jeff slides a finger in her love canal.
Amy moans into Jeff’s mouth as they are still kissing.
Amy reaches into Jeff’s shorts and wraps her hand around his throbbing cock and pulls it out.
With one arm around his neck, her legs wrapped around his waist, she guides his cock into her needy pussy. She throws her head back as he slides in to the hilt.
Now with both arms around his neck she whispers in his ear, “you have know idea how much I need this.”
Jeff grabs two handfuls of her magnificent ass and lifts her up and down on his cock.
They lock lips again as they fuck chest deep in the lake.
Amy is moaning into his mouth as they kiss.
Jeff, with both hands on her ass, walks one over and presses a finger against her starfish.
Amy pulls away from their kiss, and while slightly biting her lip, gives him a sly smile and says, “you remember.”
Jeff nods his head as he pushes a little harder.
Amy’s backdoor opens up and invites his finger in.
Amy is bouncing on Jeff’s cock as he is working his finger in and out of her ass.
After about seven or eight minutes of this Jeff can’t hold out any longer and fires his wad deep into Amy’s love tunnel.
Feeling his cum splash against her inner walls, Amy’s own orgasm hits.
Right about then, Doug and Irene swim around the boat, tossing their suits onto the deck as they swim by. They swim over to Jeff and Amy.
“we’re not interrupting anything are we?” Doug asks with a knowing grin.
“Not at all” says Amy, “we were just discussing the pros and cons of anal sex versus vaginal sex.”
“Well I hope you were both ‘satisfied’ with the outcome of that discussion.”
“We were, very much so.”
Jeff makes formal introductions of Doug and Irene to Amy.
The four of them swim back to the boat and climb aboard.
It was at this point that Amy realized just how transparent her bikini was when wet. It is absolutely non existent, you can see every fold of her pussy lips and every bump around her nipples.
Doug of course had to say something. Amy explained that in the testing, it never became this transparent. She also mentioned that David and Stacy’s suits are made from the same material.
Jeff calls for the others to come back to the boat.

Meanwhile back at the house, the volleyball tournament is underway. At first, all the players were trying to keep their “uniforms” pulled down below their waist. That lasted about ten seconds before they realized they had two choices. Be modest, or play volleyball.
That is all of them except for the Bare Bottom Beachers. That was their game plan. Start with their uniforms around their waist and distract their opponents.
Once play started, most of the people milling around the property came to watch.
It became quite the spectacle.
Poor Jason. Running and jumping, his schlong was whipping around every which way, beating the hell out of his thighs.
And Neil’s knockers, I don’t think they thought about running and jumping without any support. Those three women are going to have black eyes in the morning.
There were dicks whipping around, tits flying out of arm holes and pussy exposure galore.
All in all, it was exactly like Stacy planned it.

The Love Boat docks after being out for almost two hours. Everyone disembarks and goes ashore. Most to the volleyball to see what the crowd is watching.
A couple go to the bar and a couple go to get some food.
David and Stacy have been making their rounds, talking to guests, and making sure everyone is having a good time.
Armed with the information from Amy, Doug and Jeff, ever the jokesters, are lying in wait for David and Stacy to walk by. Irene and Amy have been recruited to be decoys. They will get David and Stacy’s attention, while Jeff and Doug come up behind them with buckets of water.
The plan works flawlessly. With two buckets each, Jeff and Doug come up behind them and set one bucket down while dumping the other over their heads. When they turned around, Doug and Jeff threw the other buckets on the front of them.
Just as expected David and Stacy’s suits turn transparent. But not to the point that Amy’s did.
The six of them have a good laugh at the situation. They talk and Doug explains how Amy’s bikini practically disappeared.
It is suggested that maybe the longer the material is submerged in water, the more transparent it becomes.
Jeff suggests they test that theory by jumping in the lake. David and Stacy, being the good natured exhibitionist, agree to that.
The six of them walk about a third the way down the dock before jumping in the lake. It is about chest deep for the guys, and neck deep for the girls. The three girls are all hanging on their guys to make it easier to keep their head above the water.
David says to Jeff and Amy, “I see you two are getting reacquainted nicely.”
“You have no idea.” Doug says.
“Well then, I guess you’re glad you came by yourself.” David says to Amy.
Amy nods her head and goes on to explain that her husband hasn’t touched her in over a year. “I told him I was going to visit my sister this weekend. Today has opened my eyes to what I’ve been missing out on. Even if this is just a one time thing with Jeff, I’m going to ask him for a divorce on Monday. I can’t go on like this.” She says with tears in her eyes.
Stacy and Irene go over to her and give her a hug.
Jeff holds her tight and kisses her. Amy returns the kiss enthusiastically and wraps herself around him.
Stacy says, “you guys need to come watch the volleyball, it is quit comical to watch. Titties and peckers flying everywhere.”
They all six walk out of the lake and sure enough, Amy’s, David’s, and Stacy’s suits are practically non existent. The longer the material is submerged, the more transparent it becomes.
They walk over to the volleyball to watch. Carl and the Coeds are playing the Kinky Kampers.
Tracy is watching her husband play when she sees them walk up. Tracy walks over and grabs David’s pouch, “nice package, I’m going to have to get some of that later.” She looks at Stacy and says, “if that’s alright with you.”
Stacy replies, “if you want some, you better get it today. The other 364 days a year, he is all mine.”
Tracy looks at David, “have you ever fucked a pregnant woman?”
“I can’t say that I have.”
“Today’s your lucky day then.”
She gives his cock another squeeze as she walks away.
“She’s a bold one” Amy says.
“She always has been. I don’t think she refused a single dare I gave her when we were together. And always with enthusiasm.” David replies.
David asks Jeff if he’s ready to take the boat out again.
“Sure, get me some passengers.”
David gets on stage just as the band is finishing a song. The singer hands him the microphone. “The Love Boat will be departing in fifteen minutes for another tour around the lake. If you want to go, starts heading towards the dock.”
Fifteen minutes later, there are only three couples for the boat ride, plus Amy is going again.
Jeff takes the same route as before, pointing out unique and interesting things as they go.
About half way around the lake, Jeff stops in a cove and asks if they want to swim for a bit before they finish the cruise.
They all agree that’s a good idea. It is hot hot hot.
Jeff and Amy stay back on the boat. Amy is straddling Jeff sitting in the captains chair as they kiss and explore each other’s body with their hands.
Jeff reaches between her thighs and rubs her pussy through the thin material of her suit.
Amy stands up and pulls his shorts down to his ankles. She turns around and pulls her suit to the side as she sits down, letting his cock slide into her wet pussy. She raises up until just the head is in and holds it for a second before lowering back down until he was balls deep in her.
She does this several times before she lifts all the way off his cock. She lowers herself down again. This time lining up his cock with her brown eye. Slowly letting his cock stretch open her back door until she is fully filled. It has been many many years since she’s had a real cock in her ass. Her husband thinks it’s gross, so she’s had to rely on a dildo in secret.
“Oh god, your ass feels so good around my cock.”
“It’s been too long since I had a real cock in my ass.”
Amy leans back against Jeff’s chest and puts an arm back around his neck.
Jeff uses one hand to massage her magnificent tits and the other to rub her clit as she grinds her ass on his cock.
Amy puts her legs on the outside of Jeff’s, giving his hand, full access to her pussy.
Amy is rolling her hips in a circular motion as Jeff is thrusting upward into her ass. It doesn’t take but a few minutes before Jeff is filling her bowels with his spunk.
Feeling his cum fill her dark tunnel, and his fingers working their magic on her clit, sends Amy’s body shaking and quivering as her own orgasm ravishes her.
They sit there for several minutes, his shrinking cock still in her ass, as they savor the experience.
Finally they stand, Jeff steps out of his shorts and they jump into the lake.
With everyone back aboard, the Love Boat continues its tour around the lake and docks just as the volleyball tournament is wrapping up.

David and Stacy get up on stage. “We hope everyone is having a good time.” David says to a roar from the crowd. “It’s 7:15 now, at 8:30, we will announce the results of volleyball tournament and the winners of the swimsuit contest, before moving on to the on stage contest. So get something to eat and drink and we will see you all right here in about an hour.”
During this time, the band starts breaking down their equipment, they have been playing non stop for seven hours, save for a few ten minute breaks. When the band clears the stage, the DJ sets up his equipment in the corner.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

I was out with another friend when Ian got back. I’d been guilted into going after she reminded me it was our last week and pointed out how little we’d hung out recently. The evening was pleasant, but my mind kept drifting to Sam and Ian.

When I got back to the apartment, it was past one AM. I was a little drunk, and Sam’s door was closed. The lights were off, and I didn’t hear any noise. I’d imagined that after our hookup last Thursday and my weekend with Sam, they might have left the door open for me.

I grabbed a glass of water and sat on the couch in the dark, picturing what it had been like when Ian got home. He probably came over immediately, with Sam jumping into his arms and sticking her tongue down his throat while he pulled off her shirt.

My fingers drifted down to the hem of the dress. I slid it up and touched myself.

Sam was naked under her shirt, and he carried her all the way to the bedroom. He threw her down and crawled between her legs. Did she tell him I’d eaten her pussy multiple times that weekend? That I was better at it than him, or that I’d eaten her ass?

Did they mention me at all?

Or did they just communicate how much they loved each other showing their affection by pressing skin against skin until they both came?

Drunk and touching myself, I secretly hoped one of them would come out and find me like this on the couch. I didn’t care which; if it was Sam, I’d make her finally eat my pussy and tell her she was a fucking queer just like me. If it was Ian, I’d tell him to take out his cock and fuck me just like he fucked Sam. I’d whisper in his ear and ask him if he ever thought of me while he was fucking her.

He’d say yes.

I was drunk. I fell asleep on the couch with my hand in my panties before I even came.

I woke up in the morning light with a blanket wrapped around me, late for class.

Each day, I hoped for something different. Each day, I came home to a closed door. I would have knocked if I’d heard them fucking. But it was always silent.

Then Wednesday, I came out of class to find Ian sitting in the commons. He smiled when he saw me. It was as if we’d been transported back a month to when he waited for me every day. If this were some temporal loophole and I’d been brought back a month, I told myself I’d make different choices this time.

“Hey,” I said. “Look who it is.”

He smiled up at me, and I almost forgave him for abandoning me for Sam over the last month.

“Sam has her final.”

“So I’m your backup?” I asked with just a bit more bitterness in my voice than I’d intended.

He ignored the tone. “I wanted to talk to you.”

He picked up his books, and we walked off the college campus and into the surrounding neighborhood.

“How are you?” he asked.

“Okay.”

“Excited to go home?”

How the fuck did we suddenly get so awkward?

“No.”

“Me either.”

“What did you want to talk about?”

“Hmm.” He walked beside me for a long time without continuing.

“Kat, I thought you should hear it from me. When Sam and I get home, we’re planning to start dating.”

I think I already knew this, knew these two weren’t just some fling. I didn’t know what would have hurt more: learning it had just been some fun that didn’t mean anything, or knowing they would continue to be together while I was alone.

“What are you now?” I asked.

When I turned toward him, he seemed suddenly uncertain. Catching me watching him, he glanced away again and fixed his attention on the pavement.

“I just mean, whatever we had here, we didn’t want it to end. So we are going to keep seeing each other. She is only an hour away. So we’ll see. I just wanted you to know.”

“Thanks, Ian. I appreciate you telling me.”

We walked in silence for another block without either of us looking at each other.

“You okay?” he finally asked.

I didn’t say anything for a long time.

“Did Sam tell you I was breaking up with my boyfriend?”

“Yeah.”

“I wish I’d done it a month ago.”

“I get that.” He took a deep breath before finally saying, “But you can only do what’s in front of you now.”

As we reached our homestays, I looked at him one more time. Standing across from me, ready to bolt home as soon as I released him, he flipped his hair out of his face the way he had so many times before. Despite whatever the fuck this awkwardness was between us, I wanted him more than ever. He was cute and just trying to be kind, and I knew despite everything that he seemed to get me in a way only a few people ever had.

I hesitated, trying to find a way to invite him over so we could go into my room, shut the door, and I could finally learn what that cock felt like. What stopped me was the thought of Ian looking at me apologetically and explaining that he was with Sam now. Worse would be trying to convince him she would be fine with it. I didn’t think I could handle Ian seeing me beg for it—for one chance to change everything.

“I need to finish studying for my last final,” I said.

“Me too,” Ian replied.

“See you later,” I said as I turned and walked away.

He just stood there watching as I walked through our gate and along the thick, jungle-like garden path to my room.

By Thursday evening, we’d all completed our finals. Sam and I had a goodbye dinner with our homestay families, and tomorrow we would head in different directions.

A group of students had organized a party at a villa one of the rich kids had rented out. I was nervous about the party. I didn’t want to hang out, schmoozing with all the people I’d met over the semester. I wanted to be with Sam and Ian.

The party was fun, but I didn’t drink. I mingled and chatted with people I’d hardly spoken to since the first few weeks and with people I was close with and would miss, knowing we’d probably never see each other again.

Somewhere in the evening, I realized I hadn’t seen Ian or Sam for a while. I wandered through the rooms looking for them without any luck.

I peeked into the laundry room. Two guys were making out on the washer. They broke away when they sensed me. Mike laughed as Nick looked embarrassed at being caught after peacocking his straightness all semester.

“Hey, Kat,” Mike said.

“Have you seen Sam or Ian?”

“Nope.”

“Okay, enjoy,” I said as I walked out.

“We will,” Mike called back to me.

Moving through the halls, I began opening doors at random, no longer caring who I interrupted. One room was empty. Behind another, Olivia was riding some boy I couldn’t see. I apologized as she laughed over her shoulder. I kept going, undaunted by the disruptions to these final hookups I was causing, knowing this was my last chance. Behind one door, Morgan, Anna, and Emma just lay on the bed, eyes closed, holding one another’s hands. They didn’t look up when I opened the door. I silently shut it behind me, wondering what to make of the sight.

As I worked my way through the grounds, not finding them, I became increasingly frantic, terrified that they might not be here. Perhaps they had gone home without me or found some dark corner outside that I wouldn’t be able to find.

At a detached poolhouse-like building, I opened the door and found them. Ian lay on the bed with Sam between his legs, his cock pointed into the air. Despite having found exactly what I’d expected, I froze, suddenly realizing I had no idea what I intended to do next.

I just stood there awkwardly.

Sam turned and took me in.

“Hey, babe, you okay?” she asked.

“Uh, yeah,” I said, and continued to just stand there.

They both stared at me.

If I’d hoped I’d be able to open a door, find them, and be invited in, the reality was different. They just watched me, waiting for me to say something.

The realization came to me: this was a last night of sorts for these two as well. Yes, they planned to have a relationship, but they wouldn’t live across the street from each other. College, work, and their old friends would all come between them back home.

They probably wanted me to close the door and leave.

I stood with the door half open as Ian’s cock pointed straight up and Sam’s tits hung out the top of her dress.

If they didn’t want me here, they could tell me. I stepped into the room, closed the door, and walked toward the bed.

“Can I?” I hesitated. “Can I join you?” I asked, almost in a whisper.

Sam gave Ian a single glance.

“Come here, babe,” she said.

Almost crying with relief, I crawled onto the bed and let Sam pull me into a kiss.

“Sorry we disappeared,” Sam whispered to me between kisses.

Breaking away from Sam, I slid up to Ian and, without hesitating, kissed him while she went back to work between his legs. His hand came to the back of my head, holding me there as he kissed me with a desperation I’d never felt before.

I reached down and grabbed the base of his cock below Sam’s mouth. His groan into my mouth was too much, and I was afraid he’d cum before I got my opportunity.

I broke from his mouth, lifted my dress over my head, unclasped my bra, and slid my panties down. Then I crawled down next to Sam.

“Mind if I have a taste?”

Sam broke away. “Sure. Enjoy the slug.”

“What?” Ian asked.

“Nothing.” She let out a laugh.

I leaned forward and kissed Sam, rolling onto her as she kissed me back and slid a hand from my breast down between my legs.

She broke away just enough to say, “I thought you meant a taste of him.”

“I did,” I said, moving off her and back between Ian’s legs. Sam shifted behind me, wrapping her arms around my chest while kissing down my neck and back toward my ears.

I took in the sight of Ian’s cock, finally right in front of me after resisting it all semester. Having always considered myself terrible at giving head, I panicked for a moment and nearly asked Sam to take over again. Instead, I gripped his cock at the base and looked up. He was watching me, and beneath the lust on his face, I sensed his deep desire for me in that moment.

Leaning forward, I took the head into my mouth, darting my tongue out to lick up the slit. Concerned he might already be close, I kept one hand tight around his base while taking him deeper. I’d never been good at deepthroating, but I worked him as deep into my mouth as I could until my eyes started watering, then pulled back right before I gagged.

Once I found a rhythm, my hand worked his shaft while my mouth and tongue focused on the tip. At the same time, Sam slid one finger inside me and brought her other hand to my clit.

I gasped into Ian’s cock as Sam breathed into my ear. I stopped paying attention to the signs from Ian, ignoring the fact that he’d been getting a blowjob from Sam when I walked in. I worked his cock with a desperate energy I’d never felt when giving head before.

And then I heard it.

“Fuck, Kat.”

“He’s going to cum for you,” Sam whispered in my ear.

A part of me screamed, No! I wanted you to fuck me. Even so, my mouth and hand kept their rhythm until his cock spasmed and the first bit of cum hit the back of my throat. Wanting to take all of it like Sam would have, I tried to keep going, but broke off with a cough and brought my face down like I’d seen in porn. His second burst hit me in the face. I swallowed the first bit of cum. Another burst landed on my neck before I brought my mouth back over his head and this time managed to catch the remaining pulses.

I kept sucking until I felt his hand reach down and brush my head, then I broke away just enough to press his cock against my face. Still unwilling to lose contact completely, I rubbed him gently against me before realizing I was smearing his cum across my skin.

When I finally stopped, I crawled forward and settled on top of Ian, my head resting on his stomach. His hand came to my hair and stayed there, simply holding me.

As though sensing the moment, Sam kept her fingers against me but held them still, providing just enough friction to remind me she was there, but not enough to pull me away from this moment with Ian. We lay like that for a long time as I listened to his breathing and a few slow gurgles of his stomach and tried not to think about how this moment I’d wanted all semester might be over.

I wanted to kiss him, but the cum still on my face made me hesitate. Then I remembered him kissing Sam on that beach in Nicaragua and climbed slowly up his body until I could look down at him.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey,” he whispered back. “You’re fucking incredible.”

When I brought my lips to his, he responded without hesitation, kissing me with the same hard desperation I’d felt earlier. Lying completely on top of him, I let his hands travel down my back and up my sides into my hair while he kissed me as though he couldn’t get enough.

At the same time, Sam explored me, gripping my ass cheeks and pulling them apart until I imagined her staring directly at my asshole. She bit one cheek, then the other, before licking over the spot she had just bitten as she slipped her finger back into me.

Lifting my hips slightly off Ian, I pushed back until her finger was buried deep inside me. Even as she fingered me, Sam seemed intent on exploring everything else, licking across my ass before kissing up my back and down toward my thighs.

Ian and I made out as he continued to explore my body with his hands. He slipped one arm down and this time brought it between my legs. He reached down until his fingers found my clit, and he rubbed while Sam fucked me.

“Do you think we can make her cum?” Sam asked Ian.

“Do you want to?” Ian whispered up to me.

I nodded.

“I love it when you cum. It’s so fucking sexy,” he replied.

I moaned down into his mouth as both of their hands continued to work over my body.

As my breathing got ragged, Ian brought his mouth to my ear and kissed it.

“Kat, you are so fucking sexy. You are so fucking incredible. We want you to cum for us. Will you?”

“Yes,” I moaned, raising myself so I was right above him and could look directly into his eyes. I reached up and brushed the hair out of his face. Holding my breath as the orgasm gathered, I pushed back against Sam and leaned down to kiss Ian when it erupted all at once. Everything went hot as a spasm rolled through me, but I kept my lips locked against his.

Ian held me through the aftershocks while Sam slipped her fingers out and curled herself over me. With all three of us tangled together, I thought about how badly I wanted to preserve this exact configuration: me on top of Ian, his fingers slowly exploring my body, Sam pressed against me.

Whatever else happened in life, if I could just have this one thing, was that too much to ask?

I knew it was.

I turned over to look at Sam. She leaned in and gave me a small kiss.

“You are so sexy,” she said.

“So are you.”

“Can I make another request? Like last weekend?” she asked.

“Of course.”

She hesitated and didn’t say anything for a long time.

“Would you eat me out…as I fuck Ian?” she said, then immediately followed it with, “Is that too gross? I’m sorry, you don’t have to.”

I reached between my legs where Ian’s cock was pinned. He wasn’t hard, but his cock was firmer than it had been immediately after his orgasm.

“Can Ian go again?” I asked.

Sam laughed. “Yeah, that shouldn’t be a problem. Right, babe?”

“I might be able to manage,” Ian replied.

“Do you think?” I asked. “After you’re done fucking him, do you think I could take a turn?”

Sam gave me a huge smile. “Tell you what, if you two can get me off, I’ll let you have a turn, okay?”

My own arousal flared back up even after my orgasm.

“I’m sorry,” Sam said suddenly. “I didn’t mean it like that, babe. Of course you can fuck Ian. Do you want to go first? I wasn’t trying to steal him from you.”

The words lingered for a brief moment as none of us said anything.

“I’d like to taste you while you fuck Ian.”

“Really, you’re not just saying that?” Sam asked.

I looked at Sam, then over at Ian as they both stared at me. “It might be something I’ve fantasized about ever since Nicaragua.”

“Holy shit, Kat, seriously?” Ian asked.

“Babe,” Sam said to Ian. “You still think of Kat as your innocent little crush. Let me tell you, she is a fucking pervert. Like full-blown. I know you think of me as your dirty slut and her as the precious one. You’ve got that wrong. What goes on in her mind would make me blush.”

She leaned in for a deep kiss before pulling away and moving down between our legs. “She just doesn’t say every dirty thought that enters her head.”

Ian and I both laughed.

“Did you tell him about growing two cocks?” I asked.

“What?” Ian said.

“Hmm, Kat and I might have played around a little without you last weekend.”

I was surprised, having assumed Sam would have told him about our weekend. I tried to figure out why she had kept that secret.

“Kat ate my asshole, babe.”

“Seriously?” he asked.

“I didn’t even ask her to. She didn’t even care when I kind of squirted on her face.”

“What?” Ian asked, seemingly even more amazed at this story.

“She let me fuck her ass.”

“It was only a finger,” I said.

“I wouldn’t let Ian stick a finger up there,” Sam replied.

As Sam took Ian back into her mouth, I hovered above him with my pussy directly in front of her face. It would have been easy to wait until she got him hard, then press myself down onto him, and pull her mouth against me, making her lick my pussy instead. 

I leaned in and kissed Ian, thinking about how he and Sam would taste together. However pathetic the thought seemed, I had to know. 

When his fingers moved to my ass, I moaned into his mouth to encourage him. His fingers slipped down and brushed my asshole, then he just held them there, not pressing further, as his tongue moved deeper and deeper into my mouth.

Sam interrupted us.

“Excuse me, it’s time for Ian to fuck me.”

I held myself there for a moment longer as Ian’s fingers held their pressure against my asshole.

As I slipped off, I turned and kissed Sam.

“Sorry, babe, but I doubt you’ll get to fuck Kat’s ass tonight.”

I looked at her, and she smiled. “Did you want him to? We don’t have any lube.”

I blushed.

“Maybe not tonight,” I said, before remembering this was our last night, maybe ever.

I positioned myself so I was between Ian’s legs, ready for my mouth to do its job.

Sam leaned in one more time and kissed me again. Then, rather than slipping into cowgirl, she spun around so she was facing me and squatted down onto Ian’s cock. She teased him at her entrance before slowly lowering herself onto him while I stayed close, kissing her and eventually moving down to take her tit in my mouth.

I was not gentle. I took her other nipple in my hand and squeezed.

“Kat!” She let out a half yelp, half moan.

“Too much?” I asked.

“Maybe like one percent too much,” she said.

I sucked her other nipple into my mouth and worked it with my tongue as Sam bobbed up and down on Ian’s dick.

She kept up that rhythm for a while until she finally leaned back so she was lying with her back pressed against Ian’s chest. I shifted lower so I could watch where her pussy and his cock met. Rather than touching them immediately, I hovered there for a moment, breathing them in before finally bringing my tongue down and licking Ian’s shaft where it penetrated her.

“Oh shit!” Ian gasped.

“Was that okay?” I asked.

“Yeah, I’ve just never… It was a first.”

“You're not going to cum too fast?” I asked, then more quietly. “I want a turn.” 

Sam laughed from on top of him. 

“I’ll let you know if it's too much, okay?” Ian said.  

Taking in the flavor of Sam on him, I licked over his shaft a few more times before working upward until my tongue could just barely tease her clit. The angle was awkward, and I wasn’t able to get the same pressure as when I’d eaten her out before, but her gasp told me it was enough.

We kept up that rhythm for another minute or two until Sam pulled off.

“I need to switch.”

After Sam flipped over into cowgirl, I guided Ian into her and kept my fingers at the base of his cock, feeling her pussy lips press against my hand each time she bottomed out. Watching her ride him, I studied her ass for a moment before leaning forward to lick her ass cheek.

“Kat,” she moaned. “You are so fucking amazing.”

“What is she doing?” Ian asked.

“She’s going to eat my ass while you fuck me and I cum. I’m so fucking close.”

Needing no encouragement, I took my hand from Ian’s cock, spread her cheeks, and licked down into her as her breathing grew heavier.

“Fuck, babe, fuck, she’s so fucking amazing.”

Sam pressed herself down, her entire body vibrating while she held herself against Ian and I kept licking her ass. When the orgasm hit, a tremor ripped through her as I tried to maintain contact. Then she went still against him, slipping off only when I finally pulled away.

I didn’t wait. I grabbed his cock and took it back into my mouth. Sam’s rich, slightly sour flavor lingered as I licked over every part of his cock, cleaning all of him, ensuring I got to taste all of Sam before I got to fuck him.

I was buzzing. I was about to fuck Ian, assuming they still allowed it.

I moved higher and teasingly bit Sam’s butt where it rested against Ian. Yelping, she rolled off him, and by the time I crawled up beside her, she could only give me a weak, hazy smile.

“You’re amazing.” She leaned forward just enough to give me the gentlest of kisses. “I fucking love you.”

A lump swelled in my throat because there was no way I could say the same thing back. Sam loved me for giving her an orgasm; I didn’t even know how to describe the depth of what I felt for both of them. Unable to answer, I kissed her once on the lips and then on the forehead before turning to Ian.

His kiss was not small. It was not gentle. It was hungry. His tongue pressed into my mouth, and I pressed mine back as I slid my pussy slowly against his cock for the first time ever. I didn’t rush, but let myself linger over the sensation of being able to grind against him.

Breaking away from my mouth after a minute, Ian kissed down my neck and raised me just enough to bring my boob to his mouth. He took it in, teasing my nipple while I continued to slide my pussy along his shaft.

Sam lay against Ian with her eyes closed, one hand brushing my side. When she opened them, our eyes met while Ian continued exploring my tits with his mouth. His hands moved lower: one spread my ass while the other slowly parted my slit and drew the moisture to my clit.

I gasped, feeling my own orgasm closer than I’d expected, but I wanted it with Ian’s cock deep inside me, no longer content with his fingers rubbing my pussy and asshole.

A month ago I would have done anything to have Ian’s fingers inside me. How selfish had I gotten? 

Ian grabbed me and rolled us until he was on top. Taking his cock in his hand, he brought it to my entrance and paused.

“Fuck,” he said.

“What?” I asked, suddenly nervous.

“We don’t have a condom.”

I had never let a guy fuck me bare. Even though I was on birth control, I’d always made my boyfriend wear one. For one moment, I considered sending Sam out to open some of those doors I’d barged into not that long ago. Surely, she could find a condom.

I just need it so Ian can fuck Kat. Also do you have any lube?

“It's okay,” I said.

“Are you sure?”

“Ian.” I looked him directly in the eyes. “I want you to fuck me right now. You can cum in me if you want.”

Leaning forward, he kissed me again, tenderly enough that it felt somehow loving even while he positioned himself at my entrance. When he pressed in, I grabbed his hips and pulled him deeper until he bottomed out. The stretch was perfect. He filled me just beyond the point of being comfortable, just to the point where every nerve ending seemed to fire.

I raised my legs and wrapped them around his ass as I tried to pull him in even deeper. He pulled back, then thrust into me again as I gasped. We kept up a rhythm together.

I’d never been someone who could handle intense eye contact when getting fucked. With my boyfriend, I liked to watch his face as he fucked me. Sometimes his eyes would be closed, and I could just study him; other times, he would be staring at my tits, and it was okay. But if he was watching my face, I would close my eyes and just imagine him.

Ian studied me with that shy little smile I was so obsessed with, somehow still seeming reserved even with his cock buried deep inside me. Part of me wanted to close my eyes, but instead I held his gaze, taking in the crinkles around his eyes and the lock of hair that had fallen across his face. I reached up and brushed the hair back into place.

Sam pressed herself against my side. Her hand slipped down and found my clit.

“Do you like his cock, baby?” she asked. “Is it everything you imagined?”

“Yes,” I gasped.

Leaning into my ear, Sam licked and kissed me, making small cooing sounds until the tension built in my body to a breaking point. As heat flooded through me, I pulled Ian into a kiss and locked my legs around him, holding him deep as a high-pitched moan escaped into his mouth.

Finally, I broke away and looked up at him as Sam gave me small kisses down my neck.

“Kat, you are so fucking beautiful,” he said. “I can’t believe I’m getting to do this.”

“Fucking two women?” I asked.

He lowered himself fully against me and put his lips to my other ear.

“That I get to be with you,” he said in barely a whisper.

All of my fears and anxieties came rushing back for a moment, knowing we’d only have this night. I didn’t want to think of it, but didn’t know how to lock those thoughts out.

“Cum for me?”

He thrust into me.

“Cum in me?”

“Are you sure?” he whispered.

“Yes, Ian.”

He slipped his hands down so they gripped my ass as he pressed himself deeper into me. I could sense him getting close and reached back, slipping my hand between his ass cheeks.

Ian moaned louder into my ear as Sam gently teased my nipple and his rhythm began to break. After one sharp thrust, he held himself inside me, then moved again, exhaling against my ear with each spasm. I wanted to bottle up everything about it: the sound, the feeling, the texture of him cumming into me.

I would replay it forever, never tiring of it.

When it was over, he lay on me as I held him. He eventually slipped out and rolled so he was on one side of me, with Sam wrapped around me on the other.

We lay there, none of us making a move to get up. I let the cum drip out of me, not caring about the mess. I knew tomorrow we would separate. Sam and Ian would start dating, and I’d break up with my boyfriend, but right here, none of that mattered. Even if this was the last time we’d ever be together, I’d always have this one moment, and it was perfect. We fit together, the three of us.

This is the end of the story of Kat, Sam, and Ian's time in Costa Rica. Let me know if you are interested in more stories about them.

I can’t help it. I [29F] am a horny slut. I love being a dirty little slut and wish I could act upon it more. I have a wonderful fiancé [38M]. He really does treat me like a princess and a queen though, I wish he would fuck me like a whore sometimes. Here is what some might call a gentle giant he is 6’3, 210, broad- the whole tall, dark and handsome with a full head of hair. Imagine Mr. Sheffield from the Nanny, but taller, more muscular and way less British. Alas, he is a lot more vanilla than I am, so I must touch myself to my fantasies.

I am 5’5” with a sexy and curvy Middle Eastern build. I have been blessed with 34D breasts, a cinched waist, and hips and an ass that do a pencil skirt justice. I have your typical Arab Insta face. I generally wear full glam and love getting dressed up. To the outside world, I look like a very put-together corporate Barbie. I hold a senior strategist position within a niche sector. I’m generally within a male-dominated field, and I really enjoy showcasing my leadership, aptitude, and insights around these men who are older and more accomplished than me.
I know how men look at me. When I first walk into a room and lock eyes with a man, I know he is struck by my beauty, his desires further enticed by my shapely body in well-tailored clothes. The desire gets deeper when I begin to speak. I see the respect and admiration grow as I open my mouth and share my insights with the room. I recognize the deep desire in the eyes of these married men as they gaze upon me, sometimes enraptured by the alluring rasp of my seductive voice, at other times mesmerized as they look into my big, beautiful eyes. I sense their desire. I know it sounds weird, but I have this feeling where I can tell when the blood has rushed down into a man’s nether regions.
Now, to the outside world I look like a responsible and well-put-together woman, a good girl from a good family, and I am. I am a sweet, nice girl. I enjoy giving back, I like smiling at people, and I think kindness goes a long way. Now, all that being said, what most of the world doesn’t see, what only the select few I have deemed worthy enough to bask in this honor get to see, is the other side. While I may be a lady in the streets, I am a dirty, depraved nymphomaniac slut in the sheets (or the boardroom, or balcony, or library…).

I desire to be fucked like a sex toy. It would turn me on so much to be in a boardroom after giving a presentation and then be approached by you, that hot, sexy colleague who lingered after the meeting. It would be so sexy to be kissed deeply and passionately as your hand moves from my face to cup my chin and then around my throat, slowly clasping with a gentle power that tickles me internally and lets me know that you have the power now. I wanna melt into you and let out a little sigh and moan, signalling the exchange: while I might’ve been in power when the meeting was on, I show you my willingness and desire to submit.

I crave submission.

I want you to continue kissing me as your hands make their way around my body. I want you to run your hands all over me, to admire my body with your touch, to grab my ass, to turn me around and push me against the wall as one hand holds my face and your lips are pressed against my ear, telling me you know I want this, telling me how you’ve been staring at me all day, fucking me with your eyes, and now you can’t wait to possess me. That you desire to own each and every one of my holes.
I want your hand to move to rip my top open and reveal my big, sexy golden breasts in their black lace bra. I want you to grab my breast, to play with my nipples, to cover my mouth while you whisper in my ear how sexy I am, how much you want to grab my tits. I wanna feel your hand travel from my tits down my legs and up my skirt. I want you to hike my skirt up and expose my plump ass in my matching black lace panties. I want you to look back and admire it, grab my ass, spread my cheeks. I want you to move your fingers ever so slightly against my clit, rub them all over my sexy pussy lips. I want you to rub while I moan, and you feel my panties getting wetter and wetter under the touch of your big, sexy fingers.
I want you to whisper in my ear, “Oh yeah, you like that, you little slut? Are you gonna be a good girl for daddy?”

My mouth is still covered, so I moan and nod yes, my big eyes looking into yours, full of desire, my body flushed with excitement. I’m unsure what will come next, but I yearn for your touch and your command.
I want you to slip your fingers into my panties and rub my clit. Feel the wetness. Tell me I’m such a bad little girl, such a little slut, having such a wet pussy at work. I want you to stick your finger into my tight pussy. Feel how tight I am. I want you to tell me, “Oh yeah, baby, you’re so tight. I can’t wait to be inside you, baby girl, this sweet pussy.”

I want you to take your finger out of my pussy. You move the hand that’s clasping my mouth, and before I can even take a breath, you stick your middle finger, wet with my pussy juices, into my mouth. You whisper in my ear, “Yeah, you like that, you dirty little slut? You like licking your slutty little pussy juices? You like licking your needy little pussy juices off of daddy’s fingers, huh? Yeah, you just want daddy to play with you, don’t you?”

I nod yes and indicate my assent, your finger in my mouth, as I look up at you.

You ask me, “I wonder what your other holes feel like.”

You pull your tie off and you tie my hands behind my back. You grab my breasts and you pull my bra off, so I’m standing there with my hands tied behind my back, my top ripped, my nipples and my big tits exposed. You tell me to bend over a little. You push me slightly so my face is against the wall. You kneel down between my legs and put your big tongue and lips against my sexy pussy. You pull my panties, my thong, to the side and lick my pussy lips. You lick my little clit as I moan. You pull my panties further to the side as your mouth makes its way from my clit to my pussy lips, teasing the rim of my asshole. You feel me tense up a little and you say, “What, baby? Do you like this? Are you a dirty little slut?”
I just giggle as you get closer and closer to my asshole. You spread my cheeks apart so I’m exposed, my cheek against the wall as I’m slightly bent over, my big ass and my wet, needy pussy in your face. Your tongue makes its way to my asshole. You start to lick it, slowly at first, then becoming more and more ferocious. I can tell you’re into it. Your tongue goes deeper and deeper; you become more ferocious in your licks. As you lick my asshole, you move your thumb against my clit, lightly rubbing it. You make me moan, then stop for a second.
“Yeah, you like that, you dirty little slut. I think you’ve been a bad girl. Yeah, you’ve just been craving my tongue on your ass, haven’t you? I’m gonna show you what happens to bad girls.”

You kiss your way back up, kissing my neck as your hands reach in front of me and grab my breasts. You kiss my lips passionately, one hand on my nipple, the other hand around my neck. The hand on my nipple moves down to my clit and starts rubbing it again. I moan. I can’t help but moan.
“I’m so turned on, daddy, please. You’re teasing me so much.”
“Yeah, baby girl, I’m gonna keep teasing you. I want you to be my dirty little slut. Do you wanna be daddy’s dirty little slut?” you ask me.
“Yes, daddy, I do. I wanna be your little slut. I’m your little slut.”
“Yeah, baby? Do your holes belong to me?”
“Yes.”
Your hand tightens slightly on my neck and you say, “Yes, what?”
“Yes, daddy,” I say, quickly correcting myself.
You say, “That’s right, baby. From now on, I want you to address me as daddy. Is that clear? Is that understood?”
“Yes, daddy,” I say.
“OK, good girl. You wanna be a good girl for daddy, right?”
“Yes, daddy, I wanna be a good girl for you.”
“You’re gonna do exactly what I say. OK?”
“Yes, daddy.”
With my hands still tied behind my back, you lead me towards the big wooden boardroom table, the table where minutes ago we were securing the details of a multimillion-dollar deal, where I held the negotiating power. And now I was here, vulnerable, submissive, and completely under your control. You sit upon the desk and then gently guide me until I’m bent over your knee, one of your legs on the floor, the other knee under me. You put my panties in my mouth.
“Now I’m gonna keep your panties in your mouth, ‘cause you can’t be too loud, baby. OK? OK?”
You slap my ass. The sting wakes me up and reminds me.
“Yes, daddy,” I say quickly.
You look at me. You turn my head to the side and push my hair away from my face, behind my ear. You grasp and caress my chin. “Good girl, baby, that’s exactly what I wanna hear. Now you’re gonna be a good girl for daddy. Well, you’ve been a bad little girl. You’ve been teasing me at these negotiations. You always show up looking so sexy,” you say as you run your hands down over my big ass cheeks.
You rub them, warming them up, moving down my thighs, going slightly in between to my aching pussy, begging for your touch. But you don’t give it to me. Not yet, anyway.
“You always look so sexy, and it’s so fucking hard to concentrate around you. I see you, that beautiful face and that sexy figure, and I see you look at me sometimes. I see you try to throw me off. Now, that’s not very nice, is it?”
I mumble a muffled reply through the panties in my mouth: “No, daddy, it’s not.”
“That’s right, baby. It’s not very nice.” You rub my ass. “So I’m gonna need to punish you for that.”
I moan a little as your hand slaps my ass again. The sting makes me jump a little.
“That’s right, baby, daddy’s gonna do this to you. You’re gonna get a little spanking. I bet you’re not used to getting a spanking, huh? You little princess. You walk around like you’re queen of the world, and I understand why, you’re freaking glorious. But you’re also a little brat. I see the way you talk to the IT guy. I see the way you’re used to just getting whatever you want by fluttering your little lashes. Yeah, well, you are a little brat. You’re a little princess brat, and I’m gonna teach you a lesson. I’m gonna spank this little ass and I’m gonna give you a little punishment for being a bad girl. But if you take your punishment like a good little girl, daddy’s gonna make you feel really good. OK, baby? I need you to be a good girl for daddy.”
I moan a little as my ass starts getting warmer under your methodical swats. You’re right, I haven’t been spanked like this before. And you’re right, I am usually used to getting things my way, and for some reason it feels really good right now to be in this position, bent over, fully exposed and at your mercy. You adjust me on your lap a little bit so that your knee is between my legs and my pussy and asshole are more exposed. Now you keep spanking me. I have panties in my mouth and my hands tied behind my back. There’s nothing I can do. I just have to take it.
You rub my ass intermittently, and as you rub, your fingers get closer and closer to my pussy. I try to move my pussy so that it catches your fingers. My needy pussy is so desperate for your touch. I can’t help it. Even though the spanking stings and it’s a little embarrassing, it also feels really, really sexy, and I want more. You look at me moving around, trying to rub my pussy against your fingers, and you chuckle.
“Someone’s a needy little slut, huh, baby?”
“Yes, daddy.”
“Yeah, baby, daddy’s gonna play with you, OK? Soon. But not yet.”
You take your fingers close to my pussy and you rub it slowly. You spread it a little bit. You move your fingers on my clit and up into my tight pussy, lightly sticking your finger in, pressing my spongy G-spot, making me moan as you feel my pussy contract and relax on your fingers.
“Baby,” you say, “you’re so wet, you don’t even need lube. That’s how wet you are.”
You take your other hand now and rub my ass. You pull your finger out of my pussy, and you’re rubbing my ass with both hands. You spread my asshole. It causes me to jump a little; it’s such an intimate part, and it doesn’t have much experience.
“What’s wrong, baby?” you ask me, kind of teasingly. “What, baby? Your asshole is being exposed right now. How does that feel?”
I just moan. It’s embarrassing for you to ask me that while your hands spread my ass and my two tight holes are exposed for you. You keep spreading my ass, and your finger finds its way to my clit again, rubbing it. I feel turned on, and I also feel the flush of humiliation and shame as I feel your eyes staring at my exposed ass and pussy while you rub my clit, and I moan. Your finger moves again from my clit towards my lips and deep into my hole. You start fingering me and rubbing my clit as you finger-fuck me. I’m really enjoying it. I’m moaning and I’m arching as I push my pussy against you, yearning for more. You bring me close to the edge and you slowly stop. You laugh a little bit as you move the hair from my face again, tilt my head a little bit to the side, and say, “Not yet, baby. But soon.”
You turn your attention back to my ass. You grab it and spread it apart, this time a little bit harder. I feel it, and my little asshole feels like it’s been stretched a little. As if reading my mind, you say to me, “Oh, if you think that’s a stretch, baby, you have no idea what’s coming.”
I whimper a little.
“Don’t worry, baby, daddy’s very nice. He’s gonna slowly stretch out this tight, tight hole. It is such a tight hole. It’s gonna take a long time to get it nice and stretched. It’s gonna take a lot of fun and playtime with your little asshole until it’s ready for daddy. That’s OK. Daddy’s gonna take his time with you, because you have such a sexy body and such beautiful, tight holes. I want to savour every moment of it.”
You pull your finger slowly out of my wet, horny, edged pussy. You spread my ass a little more, and then you put your finger, slick with my wet pussy juices, against my asshole. I flinch a bit at first at the feeling, but you’re holding me in place and you say to me, “Baby, this is gonna feel better for you if you learn how to relax.”
You slowly circle my asshole with your wet finger. “Now, I need you to relax, baby. I’m gonna train you so good, baby, that as soon as you feel me playing with your ass, you’re just gonna relax, and then you’re gonna be ready for daddy. And then daddy’s gonna fuck your ass and leave a nice big load in your ass. Maybe leave a nice big load in your ass all day. Maybe you can take it and keep it inside your little ass during one of these next meetings. That’d be really hot, baby,” you say as you keep teasing my ass with your finger.
I moan. I’m unsure what you mean, and as if reading my mind, you say, “Oh, don’t worry, baby, there’s a way to plug that little ass so that none of daddy’s hot load comes out.”
You spread my ass a little bit more, and your finger, circling this whole time, finally moves slowly towards the actual asshole. Your finger slowly goes in and stops. You tease a little more, lightly pushing against daddy’s little hole and then pulling away.
You say, “Daddy’s gonna be nice to you because you’ve been a good little girl. You deserve some lube.”
Seemingly out of nowhere, you pull a little packet of lube out of your suit pocket. You open the packet, spread my ass, and squeeze the lube down my crack. I feel it, and I tingle as it moves down my crack to my asshole, the cold, slippery liquid causing my little hole to temporarily clench. You start rubbing the lube around my asshole, rubbing around and then slowly making your way in. Slow at first, it’s just your middle finger. I feel it at the entrance of my asshole. I feel it a bit deeper, and I feel my sphincter tighten up around it. You pull your finger in and out a few times. When you pull your finger completely out, it hurts a little. It’s just a bit jarring. I moan a little harder as you pull your half-inserted finger in and out and in and out of my little ass. As my pussy gets wetter and my moans become a little more intense, you say to me, “Oh, you like that, huh, baby?”
I moan, “Yes, daddy.”
You seem to get really turned on by hearing me say that. You say to me, “Yeah, baby, you’re just a dirty little slut who likes having her ass played with, huh? Yeah, me too, baby,” and you slowly push your finger deeper and deeper until it’s at its last knuckle.
You turn your finger in circles. I moan as I feel my tight hole being stretched. You move your finger around my tight asshole (you know I eat clean and use a bidet). You get turned on as your finger is gripped tightly by my sexy, very tight asshole. You move your finger halfway in and out, and I feel your cock getting hard underneath me, and I feel your eyes on my little asshole, you watching in fascination as your finger goes in and out.
“Good girl,” you say to me. “You’re being such a good girl, taking all of daddy’s big finger in your tight little hole, baby. Good job. I’m proud of you.”
You finger my ass a little harder as you tell me how proud you are. You stick it in deep and move it around. It’s humiliating for me, even more so because it feels good and I enjoy being in this position. I know I’m such a little slut. I just need to be punished and treated like a little sex toy. I wanna be used for daddy’s pleasure.
You look in awe and fascination at the scene before you as your finger pumps in and out of my tight ass. You get more and more excited as you move your finger faster, deeper, taking it all the way out and then putting it right back in. You watch my asshole respond as you pull it all the way out and then slowly put your finger against my ass again. You feel me tense up, and you push against the resistance anyway. No matter what I try, your finger makes its way through, and now your finger is nestled deep inside my ass while I’m bent over, completely at your mercy.
You keep your finger in my ass and you say to me, “This is such a tight ass, baby. Now, I wanna train you so good so that next time my finger’s in your ass, you’re just gonna relax, and you’ll really like it. For now, baby, you’re so tight. I wanna feel you squeeze. I wanna feel how tight you can go. I want you to squeeze daddy’s finger with that little ass. OK? I want you to squeeze as hard as you can. Show me how tight you are. Show me how tightly you’re gonna grip daddy’s cock when he’s coming in your ass, and daddy needs you to be really tight. OK? Can you do that for me, baby?”
I nod yes and mumble, “Yes, daddy,” through the panties. My face is flushed. I’m incredibly turned on and also humiliated.
“Good girl. That’s what I like to hear,” you say. You push your finger in a little more. “OK, baby, now squeeze.”
I squeeze as hard as I can, all my energy focused on my anal muscles, squeezing them, trying to please you, trying to make you happy.
“Good girl. You can relax now,” you say.
I relax my grip on your finger with my ass…
To be continued. I’m so turned on, I need to grant this pussy release…

 The golden haze of a Saturday morning spilled across the bedroom floor, dancing with dust motes in the stillness. Aditya stirred, the weight of the duvet feeling like a warm cocoon. Beside him, Riya was a silhouette of soft curves and tangled hair, her breathing a rhythmic, shallow whisper that synchronized with his own.

 He didn't move at first. He simply watched her. Six months had passed since the nervous whispers of their wedding night, and the transformation in her remained a source of constant wonder. She lay on her side, one leg curled up, her skin glowing with a natural, luminous quality. At thirty, she possessed a timelessness that defied the calendar; her rounded cheeks, the delicate slope of her nose, and the innocence in her sleeping expression made her look barely sixteen. It was a contrast that drove him wild—the youthful visage paired with the knowing, hungry depth of a woman who had discovered the full extent of her own desire.

 Aditya shifted, sliding a hand over the silk of her hip. He felt her stir, a small, contented hum vibrating in her throat.

 "Morning, Riyu," he murmured, his voice gravelly with sleep.

 Riya blinked, her long lashes fluttering against her cheeks. She turned toward him, a sleepy, lopsided smile stretching her lips.

 "Is it already morning?"

 "The sun says yes. My stomach says definitely."

 She giggled, the sound bright and clear, and burrowed deeper into his chest.

 "Five more minutes. The world can wait for five more minutes."

 "The world might, but the coffee machine won't."

 Riya groaned, though she didn't pull away. She traced a line down his bicep, her touch light, teasing.

 "You're far too disciplined for a Saturday, Adi."

 "I'm not disciplined. I'm just hungry. For a lot of things."

 He nipped at her earlobe, feeling her shudder beneath him. Riya let out a sharp breath, her hand sliding down to grip his forearm.

 "Hungry, are you?"

 "Starving."

 "Well," she whispered, slipping out from under the covers with a fluid grace that left him blinking. "I suppose we should start with breakfast."

 Aditya watched her walk toward the wardrobe. She didn't reach for her own clothes. Instead, she snagged one of his oversized white linen shirts from a hanger. She slid it on, the fabric swallowing her frame. The hem barely skimmed the tops of her thighs, leaving her slender, tawny legs completely bare. The collar dipped low, exposing the delicate hollow of her throat and the pale swell of her breasts.

 He felt a familiar tighten in his gut.

 "You know that shirt is a distraction," he said, sitting up and rubbing his jaw.

 Riya looked over her shoulder, a mischievous spark in her dark eyes. She gave a small, deliberate shimmy, the linen shifting against her skin.

 "I don't know what you're talking about. It's just a shirt."

 "It's a weapon of mass destruction."

 "Then I guess you're defenseless," she teased, blowing him a kiss before disappearing into the hallway.

 Aditya groaned, threw back the sheets, and followed the scent of jasmine and warm skin into the kitchen.

 The kitchen was a bright, modern space of white marble and brushed steel, now filled with the domestic chaos of a slow morning. Riya was already there, humming a tune as she reached for the coffee beans. The shirt rode up higher as she stretched, offering him a glimpse of the smooth, rounded curve of her rear.

 He stepped up behind her, his chest meeting her back. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him.

 "What are we making?"

 Riya leaned her head back against his shoulder, her eyes closing.

 "I was thinking pancakes. With maple syrup and those blueberries we bought."

 "Sounds perfect. But I can think of something sweeter."

 Riya turned in his arms, her hands resting on his bare chest. She looked up at him, her expression softening into something deeply romantic.

 "You're always like this. Even after six months, you look at me like I'm a miracle."

 "Because you are," Aditya replied, his voice dropping an octave. "I still can't believe you're mine. Every time I wake up and see you, I feel like I've cheated some cosmic system."

 Riya beamed, her fingers curling into his skin.

 "You didn't cheat anything. I chose you too, remember? I think I liked the way you looked in that ridiculous suit at the first meeting."

 "Ridiculous? I thought I looked distinguished."

 "You looked like you were trying very hard to be an adult. It was adorable."

 Aditya chuckled, his hands sliding down to cup her hips. He squeezed the soft flesh, feeling the heat of her through the thin linen.

 "Is that so? And here I thought I was the one in charge."

 "In the boardroom, maybe," she whispered, her voice becoming a sultry purr. "But in this kitchen?"

 She shifted, rubbing her hips against him in a slow, circular motion. Aditya felt his breath hitch. The friction of the fabric, the warmth of her body, and the sheer proximity of her were an intoxicating blend.

 "Riyu," he warned, though there was no conviction in his voice.

 "Yes, Adi?"

 "We are supposed to be making breakfast."

 "The batter can wait. The blueberries aren't going anywhere."

 She reached up, her fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling his head down. When their lips met, it wasn't a gentle morning peck. It was a collision. It tasted of anticipation and a deep, abiding hunger. Aditya groaned into her mouth, his tongue sweeping against hers in a demanding rhythm. He tasted the lingering sweetness of her sleep and the raw heat of her desire.

 Riya responded with a ferocity that always surprised him. She climbed him, her legs wrapping around his waist, the oversized shirt bunching up around her hips. He caught her, his strong arms supporting her weight as he backed her toward the center island.

 The cold marble of the countertop pressed against her lower back as he set her down. Riya let out a small gasp, the temperature contrast sending a jolt through her.

 "Cold," she whispered, her breath hitching.

 "I'll warm you up," he replied.

 His hands were frantic now, moving to the buttons of the shirt. He popped the first three, his fingers trembling. He pushed the fabric aside, revealing her breasts, free of a bra. They were perfect spheres, topped with dark, tight nipples that peaked in the cool morning air.

 Aditya leaned in, his mouth capturing one nipple, sucking it deep into his maw. Riya arched her back, her fingers digging into his shoulders, her nails leaving red crescents in his skin.

 "Oh god, Adi... right there..."

 He moved to the other breast, his tongue swirling around the areola before biting down gently. Riya let out a loud, melodic moan that echoed through the quiet apartment. The sound only spurred him on. He shifted his focus downward, his hand sliding beneath the hem of the shirt, finding the smooth expanse of her thigh.

 "You're so soft," he murmured against her skin. "So fucking perfect."

 "I want you," she gasped, her legs tightening around his waist, pulling him closer. "I don't want pancakes. I want you inside me."

 Aditya didn't need to be told twice. He reached down, freeing his cock from his boxers. He was fully erect, a thick, pulsing vein running along the length of his shaft, a bead of pre-cum glistening at the tip. Riya looked down at him, her eyes widening, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

 "Look at you," she whispered, her voice trembling. "You're so hard for me."

 "Always for you, Riyu. Always."

 He reached between her legs, his fingers finding the damp heat of her center. She was already soaking, her natural lubrication coating her folds in a slick, shimmering layer. He slid two fingers inside her, feeling the tight, rhythmic clench of her walls.

 "You're so wet," he groaned. "You were thinking about this while you were reaching for the coffee, weren't you?"

 Riya let out a shaky laugh, her head falling back.

 "Maybe. Maybe I wanted to see how long it would take for you to snap."

 "You're a menace."

 "Your menace."

 He withdrew his fingers, the sound a wet, squelching pop that made Riya shiver. He positioned himself at her entrance, the head of his cock brushing against her clit. Riya whimpered, her hips bucking upward, seeking the connection.

 "Please, Adi. Now. Give it to me now."

 He pushed forward in one steady, powerful motion.

 The sensation was overwhelming. The tightness of her, the heat that seemed to envelop him entirely, and the sound of her sharp, piercing cry as he bottomed out. Riya’s eyes rolled back in her head, her entire body shuddering as he filled her completely.

 "Oh... oh my god... you're so deep," she sobbed, her voice breaking.

 Aditya stayed still for a moment, letting them both adjust to the fullness. He looked into her eyes, seeing the raw, unfiltered love and lust swirling there. He felt a surge of protectiveness and possessiveness that threatened to overwhelm him.

 "You feel incredible," he breathed. "I can't... I can't get enough of you."

 He began to move, starting with slow, deliberate thrusts. He wanted to savor every millimeter of the friction. The sound of their bodies interacting filled the kitchen—the rhythmic slap of his balls against her perineum, the wet, shlicking sound of his cock sliding in and out of her saturated folds.

 Riya’s hands were everywhere, roaming over his back, gripping his glutes, pulling him deeper.

 "Faster, Adi... please, faster..."

 He obeyed, his pace increasing, his thrusts becoming more urgent. The kitchen table rocked slightly under their combined weight. The scent of the coffee beans, still sitting on the counter, mingled with the heavy, musky aroma of their arousal.

 "I love you," he groaned, his voice a guttural rasp. "I fucking love you, Riyu."

 "I love you too... oh! Right there! Yes!"

 He had found the spot—the precise angle that hit her G-spot with every strike. Riya’s voice rose in pitch, her whimpers turning into loud, uncontrolled moans. She began to shake, her internal muscles squeezing him in desperate, undulating waves.

 Aditya felt his own climax building, a tidal wave of heat rushing from his toes to his chest. He watched her face—the way her lips were parted, the way her skin was flushed a deep pink, the sheer vulnerability of her expression.

 "I'm close," he gasped. "Riyu, I'm almost there."

 "Go... go with me! Now!"

 Riya’s climax hit first. Her body stiffened, her toes curling, a loud, prolonged scream escaping her as her orgasm ripped through her. The intense contractions of her pussy felt like a vacuum, pulling him deeper, milking him with a desperate intensity.

 The sensation triggered his own release. Aditya let out a guttural roar, his body jolting as he erupted inside her. He felt the hot, thick jets of his seed pulsing into her, filling her to the brim. He didn't pull away; he pressed himself as deep as possible, wanting to merge their bodies into one.

 They stayed like that for several long minutes, their breathing synchronized, the only sound the distant ticking of the wall clock and the rhythmic drip of a faucet. The silence was heavy, laden with the afterglow of their passion.

 Slowly, Aditya pulled back, the sound of his exit a wet, sliding noise. A mixture of pre-cum and semen leaked from Riya’s entrance, trailing down her thigh and dripping onto the white marble.

 Riya collapsed back against the counter, her chest heaving, a dazed, blissful smile on her face.

 "I think... I think the pancakes are definitely cancelled," she whispered.

 Aditya chuckled, leaning down to kiss her forehead. He looked at the mess on the counter and then back at his wife, who looked like a disheveled angel in his oversized shirt.

 "I don't know," he murmured, his eyes twinkling. "I'm still kind of hungry."

 Riya let out a genuine, bubbling laugh, reaching up to pull him back down for a kiss.

 "You are impossible, Adi."

 "And you love it."

 "I really, really do."

 He lifted her up, carrying her away from the kitchen and back toward the bedroom.

 "The coffee can wait," he decided.

 "For once," Riya agreed, nipping at his neck, "I completely agree with your logic."

 As they walked, the golden light of the morning continued to fill the apartment, but for Aditya and Riya, the only world that existed was the one they had created between them—a world of laughter, lingering touches, and a love that grew more intense with every passing second. They settled back into the sheets, the remnants of their morning encounter still clinging to their skin, content to let the rest of the world vanish in the wake of their shared heat.

 They lay entangled, the silence of the room now comfortable and warm. Riya rested her head on his chest, listening to the slowing thrum of his heart.

 "Six months," she murmured, her voice drifting.

 "Feels like a lifetime," Aditya replied, stroking her hair. "In the best possible way."

 "Do you remember the first time we actually talked? Not the formal 'arranged' talk, but the real one?"

 Aditya smiled, the memory vivid. "The rain was pouring. We were stuck in that tiny cafe for two hours because neither of us wanted to leave the awning."

 "I thought you were so stiff," she teased. "I remember thinking, 'This man probably schedules his sneezes.'"

 "I was nervous! I had never met someone who looked at me with such... skepticism."

 "It wasn't skepticism. I was just trying to figure out if you were as boring as your tie suggested."

 "And?"

 Riya shifted, looking up at him with an expression of pure tenderness.

 "And then you told me about your secret obsession with old jazz records and the way you wanted to travel to the fjords of Norway, and I realized that under all that 'distinguished' corporate armor, there was a man who actually had a soul."

 Aditya kissed her nose. "And then you told me you secretly hated the color pink, despite your mother's insistence that it was the 'perfect bride color'."

 "I still hate it," she whispered.

 "I know. That's why I bought you those deep emerald sheets."

 Riya sighed, a sound of pure contentment. "You pay attention."

 "It's easy to pay attention when the subject is the most interesting thing in my life."

 She giggled, her hand sliding down his stomach. "You're getting mushy, Adi. Where is that stern, corporate man I married?"

 "He's currently on vacation," Aditya replied, his voice dipping back into that playful, hungry tone. "And I think the replacement is interested in a second round."

 Riya's eyes lit up, the youthful spark returning in full force. She shifted her weight, sliding her leg between his, the friction sparking a new flame of desire.

 "A second round, huh? I don't know... I'm quite exhausted."

 "Exhausted?" Aditya raised an eyebrow. "You were the one demanding I go faster."

 "I may have been overzealous in the moment. Now, I'm a delicate flower in need of... stimulation."

 Aditya grinned, his hands finding her waist. "A delicate flower, is it? Well, it just so happens I'm an expert gardener."

 "Oh, really?"

 "Indeed. I believe this flower requires a very specific type of attention. Something slow. Something... detailed."

 He began to kiss her again, but this time it was different. It wasn't the urgency of the kitchen; it was a slow, exploratory journey. He kissed the hollow of her throat, the curve of her shoulder, the sensitive skin just behind her ear. Riya moaned, her body arching instinctively toward him.

 "Adi..."

 "Shhh," he whispered. "Just feel."

 He moved lower, his tongue tracing the line of her collarbone. He spent an eternity on each inch of her skin, treating her body like a sacred map he was learning for the first time, even though he knew every curve by heart. He wanted her to feel the weight of his devotion, the sheer scale of his lust.

 When he reached her breasts, he didn't rush. He teased the nipples with the tip of his tongue, swirling in tiny circles until she was whimpering, her hips beginning to grind against his.

 "Please... Adi, I can't... I can't take the teasing," she gasped.

 "That's the point, Riyu. The anticipation is half the pleasure."

 He moved lower still, his head disappearing between her thighs. Riya let out a sharp, loud cry, her hands clutching the sheets as he buried his face in her heat.

 The sound of his tongue against her clit was a wet, rhythmic slurping that filled the room. He used his fingers to open her up, exposing the most sensitive parts of her to the cool air before coating them in his warmth. He licked her with a focused intensity, his tongue flicking against her center with a precision that had her sobbing into the pillows.

 "Oh god... yes... right there... Adi, please!"

 He didn't stop. He drank her in, tasting the salt of her skin and the sweetness of her release. He felt her begin to peak again, her muscles tightening around his fingers, her breath coming in short, jagged bursts.

 As she crested the wave, her body shuddering violently, Aditya slid back up, his own desire reaching a breaking point. He entered her with a slow, agonizingly deep thrust that made them both gasp.

 This time, there was no rush. They moved in a slow, grinding rhythm, their eyes locked, their souls seemingly entwined. It was an act of love as much as it was an act of lust. Every movement was a conversation, every moan a confession.

 "I love you," she whispered, her voice trembling.

 "I love you more," he replied, his voice thick with emotion.

 They peaked together, a synchronized explosion of pleasure that left them both breathless and trembling. As the final tremors subsided, Aditya collapsed beside her, pulling her into his arms.

 They lay there for a long time, the sunlight shifting across the room, the world outside continuing its Saturday bustle. But inside their sanctuary, time had stopped.

 "So," Riya whispered, her voice sleepy. "About those pancakes."

 Aditya groaned, closing his eyes. "I think we're officially out of blueberries."

 Riya laughed, a soft, melodic sound that was the only music he ever needed. "Liar. I saw the carton in the fridge."

 "Fine," he sighed, kissing her cheek. "Pancakes it is. But only if you wear my shirt."

 Riya beamed, snuggling closer to him. "Deal."

Alex wasn’t the most popular or social guy on campus to say the least. Yeah, he has friends, but if you broke it down, they all either made contact with him first, or he was accepted into a group. Which was funny, considering how opposite his roommate to that was. 

Alex had brown hair that he didn’t seem to care much about, and had let a beard start to grow in that needed more attention and care than he gave it. A bit of a dad bod, but kept it under control by doing intramural sports rather than going to the gym. He was a bit hairy and barrel chested with somewhat thick arms and legs, that too, in stark contrast to the naturally smooth or worse, body shavers. But any self confidence or image issues he had he’d seem to have overcome. 

He was nice, genuinely so, and smarter and more wise than a lot of people realized, which was why he became such good friends with Rachel. Boy, was she something. Even he knew it. She was pretty smart, and seemed to be ogled not just by the guys on campus, but by a respectable portion of the girls as well. A stereotypical party girl who spent her weekend nights having time she’d be too drunk to remember. 

Rachel had dirty blonde hair, a relatively skinny build, stunningly green eyes, a cute ass and perky, firm tits, but her past as a gymnast and cheerleader had kept her flexible and fit. She knew, of course, that Alex had a crush on her. He’d let something slip here or there before, but he never acted on it and didn’t act like he wanted to bed her like most guys she interacted with. Pair that with them having had a number of classes together, it was another unlikely pairing. 

She’d tried to set him up a few times with varying results, but nothing seemed to stick. Though he never brought it up when asked about it, a few of the potential partners and hookups she’d set in motion did come back with a few similar lines about how he acted between the sheets, in the car, or even behind some sand dunes. “Good for him.” She thought, but hadn’t thought about finding those leads out. 

The two of them were walking out of class on a Monday night, with the campus going on a short break starting Wednesday. A good portion of people simply skipped this week, so a noticeable amount of foot traffic and classmates were absent. 

“I’m actually looking forward to some downtime.” Rachel said to him as she got done pretending to engage in a conversation with a guy who wanted to get his dick in her. “Not with that, though.”

“You goin home?” Alex asked.

“No, I decided last minute to stay here. It’s almost a seven hour drive home and I don’t really feel like doing that and turning right back around.” 

“Not a bad idea. So what are you gonna do? Is Amy or any of them sticking around also?” 

“Amy is, I think Blake and Melinda are also, but not for the whole time. I think there leaving for a day or two.” 

“So you really are gonna have some quiet them then, huh?” Alex asked, relieved on her behalf. 

“Oh absolutely. I’m going to lay around in my pajamas all day, do a bit of homework, and just rot. I need it.” She sounded even more relieved than he did. “You’re sticking around, right?” 

“Yeah, I’ll be here. Parker is gone and Masons dropout stuff is formal so he’s gone for good. I’ll have the suite to myself and told Parker I’d get it cleaned up a bit.”

The two came to a divide in the path, but stopped once they realized they were going separate ways. 

“You gonna start rotting now?” He asked with a smile. 

“You bet. I’m going to be in bed with something salty in the next 15 minutes, otherwise I’m gonna get upset.” She chuckled. 

“Have fun with that. I’m an expert introvert and since you’re operating like me for a bit, let me know if it’s too much for you to handle. I’ll give you some tips.” 

“Haha ok, Master of the Lonely Arts. See ya.” She said, taking a few steps back. 

“See ya, kid.” Alex said, heading towards the dining hall. 

Even though Rachel was three months older than Alex, he still seemed older and called her kid, which she didn’t seem to hate. There was a comfort in it she couldn’t fully explain. 

A bit before 1pm the next day, she called Alex, one of the few people who didn’t have something smartass to say if you called him unprompted. 

“I’m bored already. How do you do this for days on end?” She started, skipping any hello or initial phone small talk. 

“You get used to it, and you get good at it. What’ve you been watching?” He asked. 

Rachel was in her room, wearing slightly loose cotton booty shorts and a white shirt that she’d never wear in public without a bra on. Alex was in his room as well, shirtless and in gym shorts that were older than he was. 

“Reality TV. It used to be a guilty pleasure, but I just don’t care about it anymore.” She complained. “What are you watching?” 

He coughed a few times and said, “Cartoons.” 

“And you’re sober, right?” She asked, knowing the answer. 

“But of course. Not like I’m an unsuspecting functioning pot head or anything like that.” He said, moving the small bong to the side so he can put his feet up on the desk. 

“Less damaging than-“ he started before she cut him off. 

“I know, don’t get all preachy on me.” She said with a sigh. 

“Is that what you’re doing the whole break?” She asked after a few moments of silence. 

“No. I’m gonna be lazy for a bit before I start getting stuff done. You gonna watch tv that you hate all break?”

“God no.” She responded. 

“Want to come over and watch cartoons for a while? I promise I’ll put pants on and get the scores of sexually worn out women out of here in time if you do.” He joked, them both knowing it was too far from the truth to be even slightly taken seriously. 

She sighed. “I do need training on how to be a bum, so sure. When can I come by?” 

“Uh, whenever you want. Though if I one of my conquests forgets her panties here, feel free to take em as your own.” He chuckled. 

“That’s disgusting, ew.” She chuckled back. “Ok I’ll get changed and head over.” 

“Wait.” He said. “If you want to be a bum, you need to look the part. Don’t get all dolled up or wear anything normal, just probably come in the pajamas you’re still rockin.” 

“And how do you know I’m not being a nudist? I’ve got the place to myself.” She challenged him. 

“I know you already don’t have the anatomy for it, but you don’t have the balls to be naked for a whole day if you’re not having iffy sex with washed up finance bros.” 

“Hey, really. That’s what you think?” She asked, a bit offended. 

“No, I’m just being dramatic, and I’ve been to the parties a handful of times, I know your type.” 

“You don’t know-“ she begun. 

“Hey, hey, hey.” He interrupted. “Why don’t you start walking over here and on the way, prepare your argument and let me have it when you walk in. Doors gonna be unlocked.” 

“Fine. I’ll see you in a few minutes. Asshole.” 

“You will not be seeing my asshole in a few minutes.” He said with a disarming laugh. 

“Shut up.” She snickered as she hung up the phone. 

Rachel stretched and threw the covers off her, laying in bed, arms and legs spread wide as she stared up at the ceiling fan. She didn’t feel the need to rush over, and didn’t imagine he’d be waiting anxiously for her, so she spent some time thinking about ways to be “a bum” and pass time with things she didn’t do, or didn’t often do. Ideas ran through her mind until the idea of masturbating came to mind. It wasn’t something she did often, as her sex life was active enough. She came back to the idea, considering how long it had been since the last time she got off on her own. Knowing she wasn’t expected over at his suite urgently, she figured why not?

She rolled over and under her bed, reached for a locked case that had cute, girly, disarming stickers on it. Opening it, she found her green, 5 inch smooth silicone dildo and a medium sized bullet vibrator. She selected the dildo and took her shirt off, resting it underneath her so any remnants got onto that and not her sheets. She took her shorts off and flicked them across the room. Licking her fingers and rubbing herself to get warmed up, she had the idea to try to suck on the dildo while she did that, and it seemed to kickstart her libido. She slid the green dildo inside of her always shaved, pretty pink pussy, and spent roughly the next five minutes sliding it in and out, but it wasn’t quite enough, and she was behind the point of no return now.  So she got her phone and found a very standard porn video and watched that. Another eight or so minutes later, she was closer, but it just wasn’t right. Maybe it was the video. She found a different one from a channel that put random college students together. She found one with a hot guy and started watching it. Two of his videos later, she was still going at it, and about to finally orgasm. 

She’d forgotten why she didn’t masturbate often, as it hadn’t seemed to have done the trick as well before. But was finally close, almost 20 inconsistent minutes later. As her back arched before she came, her eyes were pulled up on the screen to a text from Alex that said, “You coming?” 

Her brain took over and rather than the fit hunk with washboard abs in place of the green dildo, her brain put Alex there instead, and boy, did she cum. She laid there, panting and coiled up. Her little pussy didn’t make a mess this time, but she was quite the wet mess. It took her another 20 to get cleaned up, clean off the dildo, return it to its place, and walk out the door in long fuzzy pajama pants, slippers, an athletic bra, some unflattering but comfortable underwear, and a long sleeve shirt. 

When she got to his suite, she cracked the door and loudly said, “put your dick away, I’m walking in!” He came up from the other side of the door, pulling it open. 

“Say it a bit louder next time, will ya?” He said, not noticing her gaze on his shirtless torso. He closed the door behind her as she looked around. 

Rachel had come by the suite once before, but hadn’t actually gone inside before. “Oh, it’s not nearly as bad as I thought it would be in here.” 

“Good?” Alex replied, not sure to take it as a compliment or as an insult. “What took you so long?” He asked innocently as he made for the couch. 

She had to think quickly, her cheeks a bit warm and ashamed of what sent her over the edge. “I was being a bum.” She said, walking in front of him and taking her spot in a recliner. 

“Good shit.” He said approvingly. 

It didn’t smell like weed or gross guy in here, and while not spotless, it felt homey, and the breeze from the open windows was welcomed. 

“So, what cartoons did you watch growing up?” He asked. 

Rachel listed a few before Alex threw one on and they began to watch. Almost 5 hours later, she was starting to get hungry for dinner, and so was he. 

“Dining hall, go somewhere, or bring something back here?” He asked. 

“I need a change of scenery for a bit, I can’t just go all in on the bum thing right away, and I don’t feel like going to get my wallet. Let’s just hit the dining hall?”

“Sounds like a plan. Give me a sec.” He stood up and went into his bedroom, not bothering to close the door as he found a shirt, putting it on as he reentered the living room. “You ready?”

The two walked to the dining hall, only to find it closed. After considering next steps, they decided to go about a mile off campus to a local sub shop. 

“Let me go get my wallet first.” Rachel said.

“No, no, no. Don’t worry about it. Being a bum isn’t just about being lazy, but mooching off people when you can. I’ll cover you, don’t worry about it.” He said. “And no guff. Move it, missy.” As he pointed towards the shop. 

The two walked over, healthy conversation the whole way. It turned to playful banter from time to time, but he never outwardly hit on her. Rachel was getting maybe annoyed with herself about the feelings she was developing for a friend, but maybe thinking about it as she was, was only compounding it.

Their dinner and scenic, long way walk back did feel like a date she needed. Alex was pretending, in his own mind, that it was, it seemed. He was a bit more touchy. As in, a few shoulder bumps here and there or arm brushes, but that was it. 

They returned to campus and at the split in the path that went to their separate dorms, he asked, “Think you got any more left in ya?” 

She thought about it and said, “let’s find a movie or two this time?” 

“Can do.” He said and in a way that was corny and ridiculous, not necessarily romantic and sincere, he stuck his arm out for her to hold onto as they walked, and she happily did. 

The two walked joyfully back to his dorm and plopped down on the couch, finding something to watch. He used the little bong a few times, but didn’t get too far gone. Rachel even had some, a rarity, but she knew her limits as well. 

There was a scene where the weird, nerdy male protagonist was masturbating, but his friends came by to surprise him, and they sure did. It was a funny scene, but Rachel went back to the reason she was late coming over initially. A few scenes later, she decided just to ask a question she’d had on her mind for years. 

“Is it true that guys masturbate a lot more often than girls do?” She sat up abruptly. 

The question and tone absolutely took Alex by surprise. It showed on his face as he paused the movie, and in the tone of his words. 

“What?” 

“Like, I don’t know. Guys have this reputation of jerking off every chance they get. Do you really do that? No, seriously. I mean it.”

Alex couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the question. He could tell she was embarrassed, and started to reign himself back in. 

“Ok, ok. Oh God. Uh, damn. Ha I mean, maybe once we first figure it out? That’s more so when it’s a lot, but, at least with guys, I don’t know how it is for girls, but sometimes it’ll just pop up regardless of where or when. And you’re not always wanting to return it to normal by rubbing one out. Me, personally, sure, there’ve been a few times where I’ll just break my dick off by hammering away at it, but not really. It’s also super dependent on the guy himself, his situation, his state of mind. I’m sure it’s that way for girls as well. Like, no way you hump anything you can get your legs around.” 

The immediate look of fright on his face was funny to Rachel. 

“Not that I’m calling you a slut now. Or that you were before. I just worded it wrong to, like, compare? I guess?” 

“No, no, I get what you mean.” Rachel said. “I was just curious.”

“Why do you ask?” Alex follows up, suspiciously. 

“Well, I don’t really know. I guess I’ve always sort of wondered that, and when I think about what being a ‘bum’ would entail, that was one of those things. Just masturbating the day away.” She said, not wanting to look at him. 

“Haha, I’ve had those days. They’re fun, if you can do em and not sit in whatever shame mess you’ve made for too long. Mentally or otherwise. Though, and confidential information, I think the best time to do it is at like 9pm, that way you can go for a while and not necessarily be, done, I guess, at like 2am.”

His phone started to vibrate and he picked it up, taking it across the room. “Hey what’s up?”

Rachel thought nothing of it. When she did it earlier today, it took a while, and she’d do it differently if she did it again. 

“No, I can’t tonight. I’m hanging out with some friends and I’ll be getting out of town early in the morning.” He said. 

Rachel decided to let the stream of consciousness around her future masturbation intentions flow, though it did have some physical effects. 

“Uh, no, I probably can’t get on the toy for you either. Because I’m with people, it would be weird.” His voice was more hushed as we went into the other room, closing the door. 

“Who was that?” She asked upon his return. 

“Oh, uh, nobody.” He said, sitting back down. 

“Move time or did you want to ask more weird questions about masturbating?” 

“I’m good.” She said. “Movie time, for sure.” 

The rest of the movie played and wrapped up around 9pm, and she decided to head back after that. 

“Same thing tomorrow?” Alex asked, holding the door open for her. 

“Something like that.” She said, walking off. 

That night, she decided rather than being a bum, she wanted to be a slut, but by herself. 

She laid in her bed and was able to push back all voices of doubt. She edged herself from about 9:30 to a bit after 10:45, then gave in. She’d aggressively humped the pillow that she put the bullet inside of, leaving a bit of a wet mark on the pillow case, before using the bullet and the dildo to turn her neat little pussy into a tender, creamy mess. 

By the time reality came back to her, it was almost 12:30 in the morning, and she couldn’t help but sit in the shame mess she’d made of herself, but didn’t feel shame. Just pleasure and ease. She laid there on her back, worn out but not braindead as she noticed that she’d gotten so wet and messy down there, she could feel it against her asshole. 

“Fuck it.” She thought. She’d only done anal twice, and turned, putting the dildo against her asshole and rubbing the dead bullet against her pussy. She let out a shriek as her face rolled into the wet spot on the pillow she’d made earlier. And one orgasm later, she felt that shame. 

She got herself cleaned up, changed her sheets and the pillowcase, showered, and crawled into bed naked, for the deepest sleep she’d had in a few years. 

Before she opened her eyes the next morning, her libido was still high, and for some reason, it didn’t take her long to orgasm after waking up, so she decided to just do it, rubbing her little clit till it send shockwaves through her. 

Rachel met Alex for lunch before they went back to his place for more “bum time” as he put it. In this lounge about, he’d remained shirtless, but had on white sweatpants, while she had on a sweatshirt and a tight tank top that matched in color. 

During the second movie, which started after 9pm, she’d found herself cuddled up against him. He was in the recliner, her in his lap, and she could feel his rapid heartbeat. 

During a poorly done sex scene in the movie, she asked him “Did you be a bum last night with whoever was on the phone?” 

“Huh? Oh, uh, no. I just didn’t feel like seeing her.” He said.

“Why not?” She asked as he paused the screening. 

“I don’t know. Didn’t really feel like it, I guess.” He said. 

“You hardly get any play, and turned some down when it was offered to you?” She asked, not fully believing him. 

“I mean, yeah. It’s like 45 minutes there and her place is unorganized and messy as she is. Its not all bad, but just didn’t feel like following up on it.” 

“What uh, why do you have a toy? Like is it her kids or something?” She asked as genuinely innocently as one could be. 

“Oh.” He said before laughing. His heaving chest felt warm as she laid on it. “No, that uh, God no. A kid should not have access to it.” 

“You have a sex toy of hers?” Rachel was confused. 

“No, not really. It’s uh. I don’t think you’d much care to know.” He said. 

“Just tell me. Sounds like something scandalous and shameful. I’m interested.” She sat up. 

“Uh, well,” Alex began. “It’s like a vibrator, dildo sort of thing. She can use it on her own like normal, but there’s a way for me to control it remotely for her. I’m really good at it and when we can’t meet up, well sometimes do that.”

“What do you mean?” She asked, now more interested, and unfortunately, a little jealous. 

“Like, so it vibrates, but I can control the speed, intensity, that sort of stuff, of both parts of it.” He was blushing with embarrassment, but also rapidly thinking of ways to change the conversation so the cock in his sweats wouldn’t make itself known to her. 

“That sounds fun actually.” She admitted. “I uh, took your advice last night and was a total degenerate. It was fun, and I slept great.” 

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I kind of knew you would do that.” He admitted. “I thought about texting you something super random around 11, just to see if it would throw you off, but decided against it.” 

“It was fun, and I liked it a lot, but there’s just something better about doing it with someone and not always to yourself.” She said, filthy thoughts and hopes of him running through her mind as she caught herself rubbing his chest. 

“You trying to admit something?” He asked, a sudden tone change in his voice. 

“No, I’m not.” She said, wanting to believe it. 

“Ok then.” He said, unpausing the movie and seeming pay it to mind. 

But a few minutes later, she felt his arm wrap around her lower stomach, and he gently slid her so she had his back against him, her ass lined up so his cock pressed into her crack. 

“I’m down to be a bit shameful if you are. I can tell it’s still in your head.” And with that, he started feeling her pussy over her sweats, “and elsewhere.” 

She had a short, shuttering breath as her arm found his, holding it, nodding. She closed her eyes as his rubbing persisted and became more deliberate. As she began to gently moan, his other hand went up her shirt, holding her breast. She leaned forward, took her shirt off and undid her bra. 

Rachel went to turn around, but he refuted her. “No.” He said in a soft, yet firm voice. “I want you to do something a bit shameful.” 

The hand on her pussy slipped under her sweats and underwear, taking only a few rapid heartbeats to find where it needed to be. The movie progress as he teased and lingered on her pussy like that. Getting her closer and closer, slowing down, and resuming. 

“Alex,” she muttered. 

“Do you need my permission, or can I trust you to do it on your own.” He said, kissing her back. 

“Tell me it’s ok.” She whined. “Tell me it’s ok that I do.” 

“It’s not just ok, it’s required. I want you to cum as often as you need to, right now, it’s on my fingers. Be my princess of pleasure and cum in your pants for me.” 

She melted as she came, a grunting “Fuck” escaping her mouth as his free arm wrapped around her, holding her in place. Usually when she’s with a guy, he’s never this sensual. Actually, she’s never had that. Typically it’s some guy who can barely get her off before he cums and it’s over. 

She whined as he withdrew her hand, sticking his fingers with her juices in her mouth. She’d never done that before, and quite liked how it made her feel, more sore than the taste of it. 

“Fuck me,” she whispered. “I need a real dick, not a fake one.” She stood up and quickly undressed, but turning around, she looked confused as he was still in his sweats. 

“Do me a favor, take like two small steps back.” He said, and she did. He slid off the chair and got eye level with her pussy. Looking at it for the first time, she decided to show it off a bit. 

But as she did, he grabbed her legs and pulled her midsection right into his face, where he began to eat her out with such skill and confidence as if he’d done it a thousand times. 

College guys didn’t really go down on girls, so it was welcomed. She spread her legs a bit and put her hands in his hair as he went to town. His hands firmly held her by the ass as he quite loudly devoured her pussy. 

“Oh my God, fuck I’m gonna cum again.” She said as a warning. As she came a creamy orgasm, she yelled as she felt two of his fingers push up inside her as his tongue stayed focused on her clit. 

“Oh shit.” She said, legs getting week. She turned and fell onto the chair, he only stopped a moment before resuming his work. His two fingers went inside her and curled while his tongue danced on her clit. “Holy shit, Alex. What the fuck?” 

She laughed and moaned, putting her hands over her face as she was helpless to his actions. 

“Oh my God!” She said louder. “What the fuck?” As her hips and legs began to squirm and twitch. “What are you doing to me?”

While barely removing his mouth far enough to speak, his hot breath tingling her pussy, he said, “Seeing if you’re a squirter or not.” 

“No, I’ve never, holy fuck dude!” A wildly intense orgasm that started to convulse her body took over. 

He suddenly stopped, and playfully said, “What?” With a dumbass grin on is face. 

She could see her juices around his mouth and pulled him back into place by the hair, and he did not object. 

“Fucking, wow!” She moaned out. “I’m gonna cum!” She warned. 

His tongue stopped working her clit, only for the attention to be paid by his hand, which began to rapidly rub her clit in unison with the motion of his fingers.  

“Noooo” she began to say as small gushes of squirt gave way to a blast that hit him in the face and chest. 

“There we go!” He shouted, not stopping rubbing her clit.

She didn’t speak or moan, just squirmed and squirted, something she’d never done before and didn’t think she could. 

She laid in the chair slumped, wet, and whimpering as he stood up. She watched as he undressed himself, revealing the daunting item he possessed between his legs. 

“Fuck,” she commented. 

“That’s the plan,” he said. He entered her about halfway before picking her up. Her legs wrapped around him and forced his cock deeper inside her. 

They walked into his bedroom like that, each step as if it were a deep thrust. He laid her down and started to hammer his cock into her. A more normal but powerful orgasm racked her body, but he persisted. 

Her legs dangled off the bed before he lifted them up into the air, holding them close together for a while, before laying them out wide and spread. 

“How, fuck,” she said as she desperately rubbed her own clit to orgasm. She watched as the two of them went to town on her, eyes wide, not wanting to miss anything. 

His girthy cock taking her pussy for himself, she could see a bulge in her stomach from where he could reach. Once the orgasm hit its highest point, she pushed him out and she managed to squirt again. She covered her wet, throbbing pussy and went into the fetal position. 

“Wait, wait, wait, wait. Hold on I need a minute.” Her body shuttered and spasmed as her thighs got wet with her own intoxicating substances. She turned her body and desperately grabbed at his cock, taking it in her hand before feeding it to her mouth. 

It was amazing, not just in size, but in taste. He not only kept it clean, but the taste of it and herself got her back on track. 

She released it from her mouth after drooling on it. Going to the middle of the bed, she went face down ass up, turning to him. “Pick a hole.”

He got on the bed but rather than penetrating her, he put his mouth to both holes, introducing himself that way as she giggled and moaned. Nobody’s eaten her ass before, and she quite liked it, but thoroughly enjoyed the feeling of his cock entering her pussy once again.  

Her legs gave out and she fell flat on her tits as he continued in her pussy before an unannounced entry into her asshole. She tried to scamper away, but couldn’t help but also back herself onto it. 

“I’m such a slut,” she moaned out, mindless and weak. 

He laid on top of her, his mouth to her ear and a hand on her clit, he thrusted into her ass more. 

“I think you’re more of a shameful, slutty princess.” That send her over another edge and she felt herself squirt directly into his sheets, it having nowhere to go but to spread and get on herself. “Your slutty princess.” She cried out. 

He sat up and grabbed her ass, slapping it as he groaned out an “Oh fuck.” 

“Cum. I want your cum.” She said. She drooled into the pillow as he withdrew his cock. He pulled her down the bed so her head rested in the fresh squirt puddle she’d left behind. Something possessed her to lick at the stain. 

“Holy fuck, you are a slut!” He exclaimed as he got back in her pussy. 

She sat up and grabbed him around the neck, wrapping her legs around him. Looking directly into his eyes, she said “cum in me”, just over the sound of the skin on skin slamming. 

The look in his eyes went from strong and in control, to weak and desperate. “Huh?” He asked, but didn’t stop. 

“You heard me,” she said seductively. “I want that big cock to empty itself inside my little pussy. Claim me, I’ll claim you.” She said, holding onto him tighter in every regard. 

He still looked uncertain, but willing to accept.

“I’m your shameful princess. Are you my big strong knight? Or my horny good boy?” 

He let out a moan, eyes momentarily closing. “That.” He whined. “I’m your good boy, fuck toy.” 

“You’re only a good boy if you cum in me.” She felt another, likely final, orgasm building, but held it back. 

She quickly yanked him down and rolled on top of him. “No choice but to fill your princess up, now.” She said. 

He reached for her tits and she held them there as he began to cum. It was powerful and heavy, quickly filling her insides up and managing to leak out and down him as she put her full weight onto holding his cock deep in her pussy. 

He bucked and came harder than she’d made any other guy cum before, and she came as well. The shared orgasm sent them both well into the stratosphere and beyond. 

As they began to return to Earth, she slumped down on top of him. She lifted her hips and his cock fell out with a wet pop noise. She felt the cum fall out of her pussy and down onto him, where it dripped down his shaft and to the sheets as a few droplets leaked from his tip. 

The two laid there before starting to gently kiss. But that kiss turned passionate. 

“Oh no,” he said. 

“Huh?” 

“I need to cum a little more.” 

“Fuck, really?” She said, astonished. “I can’t, but…”

She kissed her way down his body and wrapped her hands around his cock. Her mouth enveloped it, cleaning off the cum as his legs twitched. 

“Just stroke it,” he groaned out. “Please.”

“You said you’re my fuck toy, I’ll do what I want.” 

He sat up on his elbows and watched her work. 

She looked up at him, her tongue dancing on his tip as her hand stroked his shaft. 

He began to twitch and moan before cumming. A few bursts of it got on her face, and she caught the rest of it in her mouth, not letting her firm grasp of his cock release until there was no possible way for him to have more cum. He moaned and twitched and squirmed as she did her thing. 

His final moans leaving his lips as she laid back down next to him, cuddling. 

“You whimper like a cute little bitch.” She said jokingly. 

“And you don’t?” He retorted. 

The two laid there for a while under the slow, constant turning of the quiet ceiling fan. 

“I should go,” Rachel said eventually, but not wanting to. 

“You can stay the night. I gotta swap the sheets with the clean set anyway.” He said. 

She sat up, his eyes on her tits not her face, but she didn’t mind. “You keep a clean backup set?”

“Don’t most people?” He asked. 

“I don’t think so, but so do I.” She said. 

“Of course you do.” Alex retorted. “If you go turn the shower on, maybe we can clean off together?”

“I’d love that.” Rachel said. “But I need a break, so no shower sex, unfortunately babe.” 

His cheeks flushed red at the nickname. “Ha, no. If I could I would, but I got nothin left to give.”

She looked down at his cock and gently toyed with it. He twitched and whimpered, pushing her hands back. “You’ve definitely got something.” She said. 

Rachel got up and went to the bathroom to get the shower ready for them both, not worried about the consequences of his heavy creampie. She was on birth control and had it in her bedroom, which she would go get in the morning. 

Alex joined her in the shower, and it was very intimate, and a bit goofy as the recent activity and evolution of their friendship had forever changed. 

As they died off and returned to his bedroom, she realized she didn’t want to sleep in her cum marked clothes. 

“Uh, do you have anything I can change into?”

“I do,” he said, “though I was thinking. First one awake gets to decide how they wake up the other?” 

Rachel chuckled and lead him to the clean sheets by the hand, falling down on them first. “You’re such a whore.”

“So are you.” He said joining her.

They didn’t know who was the first to fall asleep or how much later it was. 

But she woke up the next morning to his tongue against her clit, waking her up with a moan.  

As expected, my I Got Downvoted Epilogue didn't hit as much popularity. That's fine. It was different. Not something to get off on. But I so enjoyed writing it. It made me squeal with delight. It also immediately got two downvotes. Same pattern as before. Seriously has to be stalkers. I moved on. I got back into final edits of Elara's final chapter and another chapter of Michael. I was in good place.

I posted Elara Chapter 4 Parts 1 and 2. I tried to post it Friday and Saturday afternoon. Trying to stand out during the slow day and get a few likes that would propel me to the top come high traffic nighttime like before.

The series had some followers. I at least thought it was seriously well written, hot and sexy. I was optimistic.

It didn't do great. Only a handful of likes. No comments this time. I think it was mostly the time of day I posted. And what else got posted. Maybe it was just *that* Downvoted had the word Fuck in the title to grab attention? But, it was those same couple of downvotes that got me. Elara deserved better. Writing it seriously excited me. Reading the Chapter 4 glass dildo scene still makes me touch myself. And thinking about way she finished him the reverberates through me. Oooh. There.

That should be enough. And for the 90% of me, it was. But there still is 10% feeling a mixture of disappointment, confusion and anger about those downvotes. Like does someone have it specifically out for me? Or is this just the nature of the erotica sub? The religious types downvote everything or immature people downvote anything that makes them read before they get off? Other authors?

I needed to get my mojo back. I had ridden the high I got after posting each "I Got Downvoted" chapter. It was a climax of its own kind. My body cried for that. Just to feel it once more. That's all. Then I could go back to my other stories that got a handful of likes and be happy.

I knew it. You probably know it.

The Gym was where it started. The gym was where it needed to go back to. I needed to Angry Fuck...

It wasn't hard. I had seen Alex's attempt at an erotic story. I had to admit it was written better than I would have expected. But where I took some creative liberties to make a story, his was pure manipulating bullshit.

I have his text from the next day. He was only looking for more hot pussy. When I wasn't willing to be his free pass, he posted that shit. He tried to guilt me or make me a famous bad guy. He didn't realize 99% of readers don't care.

I'd been back to the gym since then. Saw Alex a few times. Mostly from a distance. I gave him the cold shoulder and he mostly did the same. But I felt his eyes on my back. I sensed his presence around corners.

I mostly kept to myself. Did my routine. Went home. But it had been weeks since my last I Got Downvoted Chapter. My body was hungry.

It was a nice night out, so the gym was mostly empty. The gym's size made even half a dozen people seem like you were the only one there. A woman on one of the ellipticals. An elderly man on the walking track. A few guys on the machines that always seem to be hanging around. Looking. Leering. I wondered if they knew about me and Alex. Was I the gym god or slut?

I think his name is Marc. Usually by himself. He didn't hang out with Alex and the Bro crew. He was tall and lanky. His muscles oddly defined, popping off his slender frame. Good-looking in that geeky way. He looked like he would be the hottest guy in our editing room.

He was on one of the chest machines. I took to the treadmill across the room from him. It wasn't close enough for him to see every detail, but it was directly in his line of sight so he should have got the picture.

I climbed on and ran for a few seconds, then got off like I had forgot to stretch. I did some stretches. Bending over, touching my feet, giving him a good view of my round ass in my short running shorts. I spread my stance wide and reached high to the sky, lifting my breasts while I rotated around on my feet. Just casually pretending to be absent mindedly taking in the room. I didn't look directly at him. I just made sure I gave him a good look at my body. All of it. Then I turned back and mounted the treadmill.

I saw Marc. He saw. There was a shift in his face as I rotated around. He tried to simultaneously stare while not looking.

I did my usual 30 minute, 3.5 miles. I got off and pretended to do post run stretches. Again absent mindedly rotating around while I did some quad and hamstring stretches, pulling my leg up to my waist. There was Marc. He was getting up, pretending to move to the next machine, as if he had really been doing chest presses for 30 minutes. I knew.

I moved to the end of the row and grabbed a cup of cucumber water. Tilting my head back, pushing my chest out, I took a big, exaggerated final drink. I was putting on a show. Marc had moved to the leg machine on the end of the opposite aisle. I could feel his eyes staring at me through the bar he was lifting.

I walked past him to the locker room. Shaking the sweat off my hair as I passed him. I saw him turn. I caught his eyes and smiled. A natural smile. A sincere smile. His face went red. Caught looking. He smiled as he quickly turned back to his machine. I giggled to myself once I was past him. That was enough for tonight.

Not the next night, but the night after. I went back at the same time. I did a couple laps around the walking track until Marc arrived. He didn't see me. But I saw him take a seat at the same chest machine as he had the night before. I made sure I walked past him on my way to my treadmill. This time I tried to meet his eye. He turned away. I said "Hi" anyway as I moved past. Subtle permission to look.

Then same routine as the night before. I stretched. I bent. I spread. I reached and twirled. This time I looked directly at him. He was watching. He felt my eyes. He didn't acknowledge, but he didn't turn away.

I mounted my machine. 3.5 miles. 30 minutes. I got off and did my routine. Marc wasn't there. Sad.

Then I saw him. Not Marc. Alex. He was in the opposite corner of the gym. I couldn't tell, but it seemed like he was watching me too. Ew. No.

I moved quickly away towards the cucumber water. Then I saw. My body relaxed. The disgust leaving me and something else replacing it. A smile. He was there. Marc. Waiting for me.

Marc handed me a cup of water. I was smiling. Blushing. The blush was from knowing Marc was making his move and me genuinely welcoming it. But my smile hid the wicked knowledge of my ulterior motives.

We made small talk that turned to real conversation. I worked for the newspaper, he was a political aide. He does a couple half-marathons a year, I limit myself to the treadmill and one yearly 5k fundraiser. We're both terrible cooks.

And there it was. Food. I opened the door for him. He took it. Suggested we get food. He knew a place.

"Now?"

"Um yeah. Sure. Or whenever."

He was trying to sound chill. He hadn't planned this far out.

"But I'm a sweaty mess." Playful flipping my hair. Waiting for his response.

"You're not a mess. I think you look ... beautiful." He had tried to stop the words.

I baited him to tell me I wasn't a mess. I think we were both shocked by the beautiful comments.

I turned my face seriously. I was actually enjoying talking with him. I was feeling a twinge of guilt that I was looking to use him for content in my next story. And a good fuck.

"So Marc, what is this? What are you looking for?"

"Um nothing. I don't know. Just talking, maybe pasta and see where it goes." He was flustered. Clearly taken aback by my shift to directness.

"So you just want to see where it goes? Like sex?" I watched him squirm a little. I knew what I was doing.

"No. Not like that. Like just dinner. That's all."

"So, no sex. Ever? Is that what you're saying? I saw the way you were looking at me. I saw you stare. You're telling me you just want to eat dinner?" My words "Just eat dinner" leaving something unsaid. My tone somewhere between flirting and accusatory.

He swallowed hard, pausing.

"That's not what I meant. Just whatever you want." He was clearly flustered. It was a dance that one of us was enjoying more than the other.

"So if I said I haven't had sex in two months and needed sex right now. What would you say?" My tone still giving no clue as if this were an invitation or inquisition.

"No.... That's not what I meant..." Eyes blinking. Long pause. Stalling. He was a political aide. He knew there was a correct non-answer. He just needed to find it. Then, like that. His posture changed. His back a little straighter. A grin grew across his face with his confidence. "I could, but I think I need to at least buy you dinner first."

Boom. The right answer. Flirty. Not saying no to sex. But being a gentleman saying he had to buy me dinner first. It sent something through me. I'm sure he saw it. My posture changed. Knees bending, looking up at him a little more, a twinkle in my eyes.

I pushed up on my tiptoes. My mouth next to his ear. "You could, but I think I might want to see if you're worth dinner first." Playful. All accusations in my voice gone.

Back on my heels, I started off towards the locker room. He didn't move. I stretched my hand back towards him. Grabbed his hand.

"Are you coming?"

I walked with a bounce in my step. Warmth of desire spreading throughout my body. And yet still a trace of wickedness.

I pulled him deeper inside, between the lockers where fewer people might find us. Away from the mirrors. Memories still there. But not powerful enough to stop me.

There, I reached up and kissed him. Soft, gentle. Waiting to see what he'd do.

He kissed me back. Slightly unsure. I put my lips on his neck and kissed, a little hungrier. Encouraging. He twisted against me. Then reached for my face and kissed me with equal passion.

His tongue in my mouth. My tongue finding his. What may have begun as playful flirting was quickly turning into lustful desire deep inside both of us.

As he worked my mouth, his hands explored the length of my body. His hands sent shivers. My body in turn shifting itself slightly to his side, grinding gently on his leg. I could feel him hard against my leg. Only thin athletic shorts between us.

I pulled away only long enough to move my mouth back to his ear. My opposite hand sunk and found his rock-hard cock. I breathed deep into his ear.

"I need you to take me.."

His eyes searched around the room. He froze. He saw something in the distance. I turned to look to see what he saw. There, in the mirror, reflecting around the corner. A shadow. A shape.

Alex?

It killed me for a moment. I wanted to vomit, fall down, and die. But my body had already decided what it needed. I was wet. I was ready. His cock felt so right in my hand, my fingers just short of being able to wrap all the way around and easily long enough for both of my hands.

There in that moment, it wasn't me, but my body responding to the moment.

"Sauna..."

He was still frozen. I took his hand, turned and made my way to the sauna, dragging him behind me.

We got through the door. The scent of cedar and an electric heater hit us. Steam rising around us. The air was hot. But not too hot. The sensors waiting for bodies before being fully activated. I turned back towards him. Wrapping my arms around his neck. I could feel him melting, coming back to the moment. I pushed my body against him. My hands in his hair. Kissing him deeply. Feeling his cock against my midsection twitch back to life. I couldn't help but shift on my toes, dragging my body up and down on him.

My body ached to feel more. Alex was forgotten.

Damn! There he was again, floating to the surface in my mind. The thought that he might ruin this moment was forming rage inside me. Right there, a part of my body decided it HATED Alex. I wasn't going to let him control me. No, I was hoping he had moved closer and was on the other side of that door. Listening. Maybe looking through the window. Watching. Seeing what his Bro-ass was missing. He was my fuel to feel.

I let go of Marc and backed up towards the benches. My eyes never left him as I took each step back. My running bra up and over my head. My breast releasing with a spring. I watched his pupils grow and his lips part. Another step back. I climbed up the lower bench. Reaching down and lowering my shorts. Naked. I sat and lay back on the upper bench. Spreading my legs. Presenting myself. My sex nearly eye-level.

I watched him take me in. He didn't move except for his cock bouncing in his loose shorts. He was staring at my bare naked pussy. The pussy that I had shaved for not this, but this. I had him mesmerized.

I licked my finger. My wetness probably didn't need it, but nevertheless, it was part of the show I'd been performing all night. I moved my finger down slowly. Finding my lips. I did one downward stroke with my whole hand flush against my plump folds. Then I dug my index finger in deep. Stroking upward through my slit. Spreading my wetness throughout. Downward again on the outside with all my fingers. And then my second finger joined my index finger in deep to spread my lips wide. Everything on display.

Marc's eyes were big. His mouth open. Still looking for direction. Unsure if this was really happening.

I leaned back. My finger tapped my opening. Once. Twice. Exciting my skin. Giving him direction.

"Take me."

That did it. He moved towards me. Hesitation lost. I was his prey. His mouth found my neck. I grabbed his head and pushed him down. He tried to move to my breasts. His mouth momentarily taking me in. His tongue sliding over my hard nipple. But I kept pushing him down. Lower.

His face found my pussy. He took a moment to take in the sight. The contrast of my deep pink folds against my smooth golden tan skin. A deep breath. Inhaling the scent of my arousal. Then he kissed the top of my spread lips. Gently. Polite. It sent a shiver through me. But that wasn't what my body wanted. I pushed his face deep into me. My hips thrusting up into him.

"Harder."

He got the message. His posture shifted. His tongue began working my slit. Up and down. Pressure. My hips were moving with him. He's clearly done this before.

"Yes. Yes. Like that!"

His tongue found my clit. Shifting to light circles. Electric. My hips bucked. My back arched. I pushed his head hard into me so he couldn't move. But his tongue still found a way.

"Oh god yes."

It was too much. I pulled his head up to me. Taking his shirt off along the way. He kissed me. The taste of me on his lips. I always find it dirty. It made my legs kick a little.

I put my hands on his chest and pushed him off slightly. He looked at me. Confused. But only for a second as my hands found his shorts and pulled them down. His cock hard. Free. Precum clearly smeared all over his head.

I reached for it. I gave it a long, full stroke.

Marc moaned. His knees buckled a little. I feared he might collapse backward.

My hand released from him. Let him gather himself. My hand found my pussy. I gathered wetness on my fingers, on my palm. It wasn't hard. And then back to his cock. Stroking him.

His eyes were closed. Leaning back. Pumping into my hand. Moaning.

"Oh god. So good."

I moved my hand back to my pussy. Rubbing it. This for me. Readying myself.

"In me." A breath. A command.

I rotated sideways along the extra wide bench. He joined on top of me. His elbows on either side of me. His lips finding mine. And then I felt him. On top of me.

Once. Twice. His cock slid on top of my folds. Then he paused as his tip hovered over my opening.

"Please!" I begged him. My hands found his ass and pulled him into me.

"Ohhh"

"Ahhh" Stretching around him. Feeling him slowly fill me. His hips connecting with mine. Fully inside. Slow was no longer an option.

My hips started to push up to him, driving him deeper in. Begging him to find the rhythm. My hands behind him pulling him down faster.

"Oh god! Yes. Harder!"

He grunted. Thrusting harder and faster. His head moving side to side with each thrust.

But it wasn't enough. I needed more. Deeper. I started to pull my knees up toward my chest. He raised up, sensing my shift. My hands guided him to stand as I rotated. Still flat on my back but using the elevated benches to place my opening even with his throbbing cock.

My hand involuntarily rubbed my pussy as he found his footing. It had only been empty for a second, but it burned for touch.

He stepped forward. His cock contacting me. My fingers hungrily grabbed his tip, guiding, pushing him into me. He matched with a thrust. Deep. Hard.

He was able to reach so much deeper in this position. Standing, with my knees on my chest. His hands found my hips. Grabbing them firmly. He pulled me into him. Thrusting. Pulling. His cock bottoming out inside me. Hitting every part of me. It was the raw power that I needed.

"Oh god. Yes! Fuck me like that!"

My words asked for him to continue like that. But something inside of both of us said faster, harder, deeper. His breathing became deeper. His movement more primal. A constant stream of grunts coming out of him.

"Yes! Yes! Yes! Make Me Cum!"

There was something bigger inside of me tonight that made me cry out like I've never had before. Made me want it harder than ever before.

I didn't think he could go any harder. But something in my words drove him deeper. His hands tightened on my hips. His fingers digging in. He pulled harder. His knees bending. Thrusting up into me.

Something in my core snapped. One suspended second. Then it tore loose. Not gentle waves. A seizing. My walls clamped around him. Gripping. Dragging him deeper. Refusing to let him go. The shaking started beneath the spot where we joined. Spread out and down my thighs until my calves went rigid. Moved up through my belly, my chest. Even my throat clenched around a sound that wouldn't come out. Quivering. Exploding outward. Releasing. Alternating waves of warmth and contracting moving through me.

"Ohhh..."

One. Two. Three more thrusts. And there. He held. Biceps rigid. His legs locking. A grunt escaping from some place deep inside him.

He was deep deep inside me. Pushing against me, but no longer moving. I could feel his cum. Oozing out around his swollen head. I could feel his cock pulsing.

He held one second longer. My body shaking around him. Then he began to pump again. Slowly. I matched him with continuing waves of orgasms flowing through me. I squeezed around him with each thrust. Each of us working to extract the last out of him, out of me.

He slid out and collapsed on me. Head on my stomach. I lowered my legs. My hands found his hair. Satisfied.

We laid like that for a moment. The room hotter now. The sensors fully activated.

Steam now clouded the glass window. I wondered if Alex had heard me. I wondered if he had watched through the glass. Wondered if he would smell cedar or sex after we'd left. Maybe that was part of the reason for my enhanced vocal performance tonight. The thought made me smile.

Marc looked up at me.

"You're smiling."

The reason for my smile shifted.

"Is it too late for pasta? I know a place open late." He asked.

His innocence made me laugh out loud. I pulled his face to mine and kissed him. Sincerely kissed him.

Then I pushed him to the side.

"Let me get a shower. Then we'll see if it is late-night pasta or dessert."

I could see from the look on his face, that he thought I might be expecting him to perform again. I was honestly thinking about maybe skipping dinner and just getting a slice of cake from the 24-hour diner down the street.

Cake or no cake, Marc's story was going to be a delicious treat. And whether there's a chapter five... I'll be watching the scoreboard.

On the way to my first call of the day, her legs - wet and smooth - appear in my mind - unbidden like she possesses me.  One moment, I’m yielding to traffic and merging lanes.  The next, she’s there, keeping me company for the 30 minute drive.

There she is, one night after her shower. Towel wrapped around her, tucked into itself at her chest. It’s just long enough to cover her hips and ass.  If this were real, I’d lean over to her side of the bed just to catch a glimpse.  But it’s not and I see her whole body, moving through its nightly routine. 

I’m behind her, practically in the wall. I press my chest into her toweled back, and kiss the nape of her neck. A soft sigh escapes her lips. My finger tips find the hem of the towel, feel the edge of soft fabric and silky skin.  

A slight tug and the towel falls.

My eyes meet hers in the reflection and fall to her breasts. Her damp skin prickles at the change in temperature.  My hands move over her hips, tummy, and settle at the curve of her breasts. I kiss her neck and shoulders again, slow and open-mouthed.

As my lips travel down her back, she bends at the waist and lays her upper body on the vanity, forearms cradling her head. The cool condensation from the shower tightens her nipples.  I keep going until my lips reach her ass. She arches under the sensation. Her calves and hamstrings stretch as she settles into position.

Tail lights flash. I need to pass. “Just as it was getting good,” I think as I overtake the caravan of semi-trucks.  After overtaking them, I switch lanes and settle back in for the monotonous drive.

Back in the bathroom, I find myself level with her ass, staring at her pussy before I dive in. It glistens in the soft light. The first kiss tells me it’s my fault, the taste is sweet and thick.  The water here tastes slightly bitter.  This is unmistakably her.  I’ve always loved her taste. Her folds part for my mouth, the short, trim hair mixing with my beard.  Droplets of her cling to the beard as I take a deep breath. I lap at her outer lips, gathering up the thick wetness as it meets my tongue. She presses back with her hips. A long moan catches and then spills out over her lips.  

My arms, wrapped around the backs of her thighs, hands massaging the inside, feel her weight shift to one side. Her hand glides through my hair and settles at the back of my skull.  The roots of my hair send a sharp shiver down my spine as her fingers pull me in tight on her clit.  Her breathing becomes shallow and short. Her moans build higher and sharper.  I have heard the pace change hundreds of times.  Her fingers curl tighter into my hair as her toes wrinkle the rug.  I stay buried there, my lips and tongue working her clit, until her quads seize in my hands.

“Take exit 42 now,” the navigation’s voice snaps me back to reality.  Her image, ass, tits on the vanity, her tense body, fades to just an outline in my subconscious.  I pull into the parking lot and park.  Then make my way in to see the first customer.  My erection fades as well as I walk toward the door…

…I start the last step of the service call.  Pressing the buttons in sequence to start the software upgrade has become muscle memory, almost hypnotic, and unbidden her outline starts to return.  “Even my day dreams keep me from finishing her with my mouth.” I say to myself and chuckle, as I walk back out to my car.

I check my app and head on to the next call, back up the road 15 miles the way I came.  Before I’m even on the highway, the bathroom returns fully formed. 

I’ve stood up, the curves of her waist cupped in my palms. Her arm is under her now, reaching back.  Her hand rolls my balls between its fingers before sliding up to the base of my head.  This always pulls a low moan from my chest.  Her taking control, guiding my penis right where she wants it. Just for a few seconds before I plunge into her.

In the bathroom though, she lingers at it.  As I watch, hips still, she rubs the head of my cock through her folds, coating me in her wetness, then eases me inside. She moves slowly, finding the angle that feels good, and takes me deeper. Her fingers push further down my shaft. Her grip tightens as she pulls me deeper.

I barely rock my hips. This position is tricky so I let her lead the pace and depth.  

She rolls waves down her back, rocking her hips with me inside.  My hands contract on her waist and her soft skin bunches around my fingers. 

If they stay there I’ll pull her further onto me.  

One hand relaxes on her ass. The other traces the ridges of her spine. It rises and falls with the roll of her back. Then sinks into her hair.  The cool damp strands coil between my fingers as I close my fist.

She’s wet enough that each movement leaves more of her wetness dripping down me.  Her lips pulse on my cock with each rock of her hips. My arms tighten, pulling her head up a fraction.  

She lifts her face to the mirror.

For a moment, I lock on the swaying of her breasts and the tight nipples hovering over the vanity.  Then her eyes pull mine from her breasts.

Her eyes, piercing and light blue, turn up at me. The same look she’s always given me, when she wants me to feel I’m right where she needs me. 

The look itself pulls me to the edge.  

Her eyes close and my gaze descends again. Her breasts slowly rocking with the motion of her body, her tight nipples, and her lips parting and tightening around my cock.  Her hips press against me, pushing me to my limit.

“Fuck!” I say aloud as a pothole jostles the car. The voice inside my head whines, “Almost there, AGAIN!” Just a few more miles to the next call.

As the daydream rushes back, she rolls her hips one final time, pushing her ass deep into my hips. My eyes, locked on hers, tense and then relax. Pulses roll from my abs, twitching my hips, ending at the tip of my cock buried in her pussy.  

I come hard, our eyes still locked, peering into each other’s souls as the pulses slowly start to subside. 

She eases up carefully and then softly lowers down again. She rises off me slowly. The head of my cock leaves her with a wet sound.  A string of our wetness stretches between us for a second before it falls.

The navigation’s voice pulls me out of the final moments of the daydream.   “Take exit 27 now.” Hopefully this call goes quick.  Her outline lingers.  I need to get home to wrap her in my arms.

I woke up and rubbed my eyes. I looked over to see Tina still passed out. I looked to the other side and Jaz was gone. Maybe she felt bad and left. Maybe she moved to the guest room. So many thoughts started swirling through my head.

I got up to check and see if maybe she moved to the guest room… Nothing. I heard faint moving around coming from the main floor. I walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. There she was, still rocking her sexy short shorts and her low-cut see-through tank top.

She turned and looked at me.

“Hey, sleepyhead. I hope you’re hungry. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind if I raided your fridge and made us some breakfast,” she said with a smile.

“Anytime,” I replied, walking over to her and looking over her shoulder to see what she was making. My body pressed against hers as I peeked over her shoulders—eggs and bacon sizzling away in the pan. My eyes wandered to her cleavage. The hickey she asked for last night was big and red.

“What do you think?” she said, looking up at me.

“Looks delicious, but that hickey looks like you’re gonna have a lot of explaining to do,” I teased.

“I guess I just can’t go back home until it goes away,” she flirted.

I chuckled and wrapped my arms around her from the back, pulling her tight to me.

“Stay as long as Tina lets you,” I whispered into her ear.

I let her go and walked over to the bar stool while she finished the food. My thoughts drifted as we made small talk, thinking about how I was sitting in the stool where all the fun had started less than 24 hours ago.

She walked over with a plate and set it down in front of me. She climbed into my lap, stabbed some eggs, and brought the fork to my mouth. I took a bite.

“You’re gonna cook and feed me?” I asked.

“Why not?” she said as she brought another bite to my lips.

She would switch back and forth, eating a bite for herself then feeding me a bite, until the plate was nearly empty.

“Thanks, Jaz. That was amazing.”

“No problem, Eric,” she said as she leaned in for a kiss.

Her lips lingered on mine. My hand pulled the back of her head toward me softly as she started to pull away. Our lips locked, kissing more and more passionately until our tongues were sliding around each other’s. Her hands held my face while mine wrapped around her body. She readjusted herself in my lap so she was straddling me.

I pulled her tank top off her shoulders. Her boobs spilled out. I pulled her tighter so they were pressed against me. She pulled away from our kiss, and as her body slid down mine she pulled her tank top completely off. She tugged at my boxers as she went to her knees. I pulled them off, revealing my still-limp cock.

“What, I don’t make you hard now?” she joked as she grabbed my dick.

“Oh, you do. I think it’s still recovering from yesterday,” I laughed.

She didn’t say a word. Her mouth moved closer to my dick. She lifted it to her mouth and took the tip inside.

“Plus, don’t you want to feel it grow in your mouth?” I flirted.

“Mmmhmm,” she hummed, not taking me out of her mouth even for a second.

She started to take more and more of my dick. My eyes rotated back and forth between her mouth taking my dick deep and her boobs smacking and swaying every time her head bobbed. It didn’t take long for me to become rock hard. She kept trying to take the entire thing, but could take less and less as it got harder.

She stood up, grabbed my hand, and guided me toward the couch.

“Lay down,” she said, as if she was trying to be bossy.

I laid down without a word.

“I hope you still have a little room left to eat,” she said, and she slid her shorts off and climbed on me in the 69 position, lowering her already soaking pussy to my lips.

My tongue met and split her crease, tasting her juices.

“Uhhhhh,” she moaned in relief before leaning down and taking me back into her mouth. Her boobs hung down and hit my lower abs every time she went down on my dick.

My hands gripped her ass, holding her pussy to my mouth. My tongue flicked back and forth, up and down her clit. She kept me in her mouth almost the entire time, only coming up because her breathing got too intense. She would pop her head up, breathing heavily and moaning, then quickly slide me back in between her lips.

Slowly I slid my tongue up toward her hole, then circled it with my tongue. Her head popped off again.

“Fuck, Eric. I love how you eat my pussy,” she said, panting.

She stroked my dick inches from her face while letting out a constant stream of soft moans. I felt her sit up and push her hips down on my face. As she did this I shot my tongue inside her hole, circling around again.

“Fuck, oh damnit, yes!” she said loud and shakily.

Her hips started to rock ever so slightly on my face, just moving her pussy slowly back and forth, my tongue still sliding around inside her.

“Ohhh yesss, ohh I love it, yessss,” her moaning intensifying.

“Holy shit, you two, how are you still going?” Tina said as she approached us and sat in the loveseat next to us.

I pushed Jaz forward roughly between my legs. She caught herself on all fours and arched her back as I sat up behind her.

“You’re gonna look at me while I fuck you,” I said sternly as I grabbed her hips and flipped her onto her back.

She stared up at me, hungry to feel me inside her. I slid my dick quickly, roughly, and all the way inside her, pinning her hips to the couch. My hips pushed against hers.

“Ohhh fuck yes, fuck meee baby!” she screamed.

I thrusted in and out, pulling myself all the way to the tip and then slamming myself all the way inside her. Her massive tits flew up and down her chest as she lay there moaning profusely, unable to move or think.

It didn’t take long until I felt her pussy gripping my dick tighter and tighter. Finally her eyes rolled backward, her body went completely limp, and not a sound left her mouth… until she erupted.

“Holy fucking shiiiiit, ohhh yessss!”

Her body shook. Her hands flailed around, not knowing what to do. I went even faster, giving her everything I could. Her body went limp and I slowed down until slowly sliding myself out of her, watching as she squirmed as my tip pulled out of her. Her eyes were shut and she panted heavily. I looked down at her pussy that was glistening from all of her wetness and cum.

“Looks like I woke up just in time,” Tina joked. “That was super hot.”

Jaz got up and went to the bathroom. I put my boxers back on and sat down on the couch, still sporting my rock-hard wet cock. Jaz came back and put her shorts on, but left her shirt in the other room. She sat cuddled up next to me, facing Tina.

“Damn, Jaz, that hickey is really big and red,” she laughed.

“I know. I love it. It’s hot, isn’t it?” Jaz said.

“I made you some food by the way, in the microwave.”

Tina got up and walked into the kitchen and started the microwave.

“Fuck, Eric, I don’t know how I’m going to go without your dick again,” Jaz said.

“It has been fun. I’m gonna think about this weekend a lot,” I replied back.

Tina came back in with her phone.

“Smile,” she said, pointing the camera at us.

I reached around Jaz, wrapping my arms around her and lifting her boobs, one in each hand. They sat so heavy in my hands and spilled over the sides. Tina took a few pics and then put her phone down.

“How about I finish the breakfast and we have a photoshoot? That would be so hot,” Tina suggested.

“I’m down, but you have to be the director, babe. You have to tell us what positions and what you want us to do in the pics,” I replied.

“Deal,” Tina agreed.

“Jaz?” I asked.

“Fine by me.”

…..To be continued……

David and Stacy started planning the annual “Summer Bash and Extravaganza”, always the second Saturday of August, way back in March.
This will be the fifteenth year David has put on this party and this will be Stacy’s second.
David bought the lake house and adjoining lot for pennies on the dollar from a desperate contractor. Now he owns ten acres, a twenty five hundred square foot, three bedroom, three bath, ranch house on a beautiful lake with over a thousand feet of private lake front beach.
Every year the summer bash gets a little bigger, a little wilder, and a little sexier.
In the beginning, David and his girlfriend/ Babygirl at the time, usually a twenty something, would do all the work. Planning, set up, cooking, organizing, execution, and cleanup. Now it’s way too big and way too much work.
David and Stacy are doing the planning, but most of the work is hired out.
David’s consulting firm “sponsors” the bash, so everything is paid for. The summer bash is by invitation only, but the invite list is long. If you’re a friend, you’re on the list. If you’re a friend of David’s significant other, you’re on the list. If you have a house on the lake, you’re on the list. If you are a hot female and ask, you’re on the list. If you’ve attended in the past and not gotten kicked out, you’re on the list.
Every invited guest is allowed a plus one. So yes, it has grown significantly over the years.

Every year has a theme, and this year’s theme is “Wicked in White”. Everyone is encouraged to wear white. Especially bathing suits. White and transparent when wet.
Most of the guest usually participate in the theme, but some come just to watch. It is an exhibitionist and voyeurs party, it says so right on the fliers.
This year’s contest categories are, smallest bathing suit, male and female. Most transparent bathing suit, male and female. Best pole dance routine, male and female (you’d be surprised at how many guys get up there after a few free cocktails). Best blowjob, and best pussy licker.
David’s favorite category, that he made up a couple years ago, is sexiest ex. David has always ended former relationships on a good note. With almost all of his former significant others being significantly younger than him, he has always said to them, that he knows this isn’t forever. When they are ready to settle down and start a family, he will support them, one hundred percent.
In doing this, almost all of them return for the annual bash with their new love interest. There has never been an issue with anyone.
The best blowjob and best pussy licker is an onstage group, all at once contest. The sexiest X is an on stage all out friendly cat fight with full use of the stripper pole.

It is now a week before the bash and Stacy is freaking out. David has been doing this for fifteen years so he is pretty chill.
Monday evening and Stacy, all five foot eight inches, which is all legs, one hundred and fifteen pounds of her is yelling and listing all the things that still needs to be done.
Finally David has had enough and picks her up and lays her across his lap. She is wearing one of his t-shirts and nothing else. David lifts the shirt tail over her ass and starts laying swats, Left cheek, right cheek, pussy lips. One swat for every word coming out of his mouth.
“Don’t, you, ever, yell, at, me, like, that, again. I, have, been, doing, this, for, fifteen, years.”
David rubs her ass and pussy, she is dripping wet.
Stacy loves it when David puts her in her place and dominates her. Sometimes she pushes his buttons on purpose when she feels she’s not getting enough attention from him.
“I’m sorry Daddy Dave, I just want everything to be perfect.”
David sits her on his lap and hugs her tight. “I know Babygirl, everything will be fine.”
David lowers a hand down to her lap and sneaks it under her shirt and slides two fingers into her wet pussy.
Fingering her with two fingers and rubbing her clit with his thumb, he takes her mind off all the work.
She presses her face into his shoulder as she bites down on his collar bone as her orgasm washes over her.
After she relaxes, he brings his finger up to her lips and lets her lick his fingers clean.
Stacy slides down off his lap, taking his shorts with her, letting them rest around his ankles. She takes his hard cock down her throat, balls deep, in one smooth motion.
She holds it there, using her throat muscles to squeeze the head of his cock. She slowly pulls off his cock while sucking with everything she has.
With just the head of his cock in her mouth, she swirls her tongue around it before taking it back to the back of her throat.
David wraps both his hands full of her long reddish brown hair and pulls her down farther into his cock and holding it there. Stacy gags a little but recovers quickly to give him the Hoover treatment.
That does the trick and David is shooting his thick load down the back of her throat.
Stacy swallows it all and sucks his cock clean.
David pulls her back onto his lap and kisses her passionately, tasting his own salty seed.
Sitting on his lap, they plan out what needs to be done and who is coming tomorrow.
David picks Stacy up and carries her into the house.
He sets her on the edge of the bed and grabs the bottom of her shirt. Stacy lifts her arms as David pulls the shirt up over her head.
Stacy pulls his shorts down and David steps out of them as he is removing his own shirt.
David lays her back on the bed and covers her body with his. He slowly leans down and puts a gentle kiss on her lips. Then he kisses her neck, both sides. He moves down to her shoulder, across her upper chest to the other shoulder, placing little kisses along the way.
David moves down her chest, between her breasts, purposely avoiding her nipples. Around her sides and across her belly. Down to her mound and over to her hip.
David kisses down the outside of her thigh and across the front to the inside of her thigh, brushing the tip of his handlebar mustache across her clit, eliciting a gasp from Stacy.
Working his way back up to her mound and across to the other hip, down the outer thigh, across the front to the inside, where he “accidentally” touches her clit with the other tip of his mustache, a slight moan.
David starts kissing his way back up her stomach and finally takes one of her nibbles gently between his teeth, and flicking it with his tongue.
Stacy arches her back up to meet his lips.
David sucks as much as he can of her thirty-six D breast into he’s mouth. David moves his attention over to her other equally magnificent breast and gives it the same treatment.
Thirty-six D breasts an her thin frame look absolutely massive. And with vertically no sag, most people assume they are bolt ons.
Stacy, done with the teasing, throws her legs around his waist and tries to pull him down to her.
“Fuck me now Daddy, please fuck me.”
David runs the head of his cock up the length of her bald wet pussy lips before piercing them with one quick thrust.
Stacy’s hips immediately lift up to meet his. With her legs wrapped around his waist, she holds him there, balls deep.
David reach’s around and takes ahold of her ankles and puts them on his shoulders.
He teases her with long slow strokes. She is lifting her hips, pushing into him, trying to get him to go faster and harder.
She reaches down and starts rubbing her own clit.
David starts pounding her pussy, lifting her ass up with every thrust.
“YES, LIKE THAT, FUCK ME, FUCK MY PUSSY, OH GOD, YYYEEESS.”
This encourages David to go harder and faster. Stacy is lifting her ass, meeting his every thrust, while maintaining constant attention to her clit.
“OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK YAYAYAYAYA YYYEEEESSSSSSS”
Stacy’s orgasm hits like a ton of bricks. Her pussy muscles constrict, squeezing David’s cock, sending him over the edge.
Rope after rope of David’s cream splashes against the back wall of her love tunnel.
David straightens her legs out and rolls over, taking Stacy with him and laying her on his chest where they soon fall asleep.

Stacy wakes up and looks at the clock 8:20am. She bolts up and slaps David on the chest. “IT’S 8:20, THE TRAILERS WILL BE HERE ANY MINUTE!!!” She yells at him before going into the bathroom and turning on the shower.
David gets up, puts on some shorts and a t-shirt and goes outside just as the trucks and trailers are turning into the driveway.
Two fifty-three foot flatbed trailers to make the stage. Construction workers to make the two trailers into one twenty foot by fifty-three foot stage. Connected with inch and a half plywood and laminate flooring over that. The twenty by twenty foot end will be made into the party stage with the stripper pole right in the middle. The thirty-three by twenty foot end is for the band.
Just as David gets the trailer set where they wanted them, Stacy comes out screaming, “NO, NO, NO, NOT THERE.”
She comes strutting over wearing one of David’s undershirts, a white tank top (wife beater) that doesn’t even come down to mid thigh on her.
With every step it inches up a little. Every ten to twelve steps, she has to stop and pull it down or else she will show her panties, if she’s even wearing any.
Her firm breast is showing a lot of side boob through the arm holes.
She walks right up to David and says, “ I thought we decided on the end being right here.” Indicating a spot about ten feet from where it is.
In the grand scheme, the ten feet meant nothing one way or another. David decides not to pick this as one of his battles and turns to the foreman, “whatever she says, do it. If it’s not feasible, tell me, otherwise, what she wants, she gets.
David goes back into the house to take a shower and do some work with his consulting company.
A couple hours later he comes out and watches from the back porch. The trailers are set, the trucks unhooked and the work connecting the two is started.
When Stacy bends over to point something out to the foreman, it is very apparent she is not wearing panties, surprise, surprise.
David yells from the porch, “THEY COULD PROBABLY GET MORE WORK DONE IF YOU WEREN’T FLASHING YOUR ASS AND PUSSY AT THEM.”
Stacy turns to him, hands on her hips, and replies, “I’M KEEPING MORALE UP, THANK YOU VERY MUCH.”
David throws his hands in the air and says, “carry on.” As he walks back into the house to do more work.
They have a solid plan and David knows that Stacy will make sure it gets done.

On Wednesday, the grounds crew comes in to redo the sand volleyball courts and to tidy up the horseshoe pits.

On Thursday, the caterers show up with their huge smokers and barbecue pits. This years menu includes brisket smoked twenty four hours with an eight hour rest, slow cooked babyback ribs, pulled pork, shredded chicken, barbecued chicken pieces, smoked sausage, tri-tip. T-bone and ribeye steaks cooked to order. Sides include corn on the cob, smoked garlic Brussel sprouts, green salad, smoked Mac and cheese that will make your grandmother hang her head in shame, potato salad, pasta salad, and cornbread.

On Friday the bar shows up. A thirty foot horse trailer converted into a rolling bar. Parked just off the beach and near the stage.
Friday evening comes and everything is set for tomorrow.
The caterers are there working in shifts overnight. David is letting them use his motor home to sleep in.
The bar is fully stocked. Fifty gallon tubs are set out all over the property, ready to be filled with drinks and ice in the morning.
The band is setting up. They have a huge repertoire of party songs, beach themed songs, and summer fun songs.
Stacy is going around and making sure everyone has what they need. She is wearing her usual attire when guests are there. Usually she is running around naked when it’s just the two of them. She usually wears one of David’s t-shirts or undershirts. Tonight it is a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and the arm holes cut larger. It barely covers her bald pussy and her ass cheeks are peaking out the bottom. She picked this shirts because it shows a lot of side boob. Stacy is very proud of her natural perky D cup breasts.

The smokers are going full bore and right on time, the fire department shows up.
Every year David’s neighbor Bob calls and says there is a fire on David’s property. Bob is the vice president for the HOA, and he can’t stand it that David refuses to join the HOA. You see, right after David bought the property, a contractor with good investors, bought the remaining properties and built a community of two acre lots, all along the lake shore. Since David was there before the community was built, he is not obligated to join the HOA. Bob is also resentful that David has ten acres, five times bigger than his.
When Bob first moved in, he would complain about being able to see them naked on their own property. So David had a hedge row planted along the property line.
Then it was noise from the few parties David would throw every year.
Leaving his garage door open, watering his lawn on the wrong day, parking his motorhome where it can be seen from the street. All things that the HOA had no control over.
Every year David sends him a flier and an invitation just to piss him off.
David invites the fire crew to come down and see there’s no fire, just the smokers. David has the caterers put a steak on for each of the firefighters, there are four of them.
Stacy comes up and gives them all a hug and thanks them for their service. Any excuse to flash her tits and pussy.

Ten pm and everything is ready, time to relax. The caterers are on the other side of the house, and David and Stacy are sitting on the back porch. David is sitting shirtless in one or the Adirondack chairs, with Stacys naked body curled up on his lap.
It is a warm night, still eighty-five degrees out. With tomorrow’s high expected to be ninety-eight, it should encourage people to shed clothing.
Stacy comments on how stagnant and stuffy the air is on the porch.
David suggests they go for a swim and Stacy agrees.
They stand up and David drops his shorts before they step down off the porch and head towards the lake. They walk out to the dock hand in hand. They walk down the dock, past the pontoon boat where Stacy says, “last one in is the bitch.” As she pushes off David and sprints to the end of the dock.
David chases off after her, but with her long legs, there is no way to catch her in that short distance.
Stacy jumps off the end of the dock just before David.
While David is always the dominant one in the relationship, he decides to let Stacy take the lead tonight and see where it leads.
They swim around, splash and frolic, teasing each other.
Stacy pulls herself up on the dock, sits on the edge with her legs spread and says, “okay bitch, time to eat my pussy.”
“Yes ma’am” as David plants his face in Stacy’s sweet pussy.
The dock is at the perfect height for David to stand in the lake and devour Stacy’s Devine pussy.
David licks and sucks on her pussy lips and clit, using two fingers to massage her G spot.
David takes her clit between his lips and rapidly flicks his tongue across it.
Stacy, leaning back on her hands, throws her head back and clamps her long legs around his head, pulling him in even more.
David continues a steady thumping on her clit as he presses a finger against her backdoor.
Stacy lifts her ass as her starfish opens up just enough for him to slide in to the second knuckle. After a couple breaths, she is able to relax enough to allow his finger to slide all the way in. He works her ass with his finger while working her clit with his tongue.
David uses the thumb of the same hand to massage her G spot, bringing her to the edge of ecstasy.
With a few more flicks of his tongue across her clit, Stacy falls completely over the edge, squeezing her legs around his head and driving her pussy hard against his face.
She releases her grip on his head and falls back, lying on the dock.
David continues to finger her ass and eat her pussy until she pushes him away.
David lifts himself up on the dock and lifts Stacy’s legs up onto his shoulders. Just before he can enter her love tunnel, Stacy rolls away from him and says, “oh no you don’t, I’m running the show tonight”, and pushes him onto his back.
Stacy reaches over and takes his cock in her hand, giving it a few strokes. She leans in and runs her tongue up the underside from balls to tip. She flicks her tongue across the head a few times, circles his cock head with her tongue before moving back down, taking one of his nuts in her mouth while stroking the shaft.
Stacy licks back up the shaft then takes his entire cock down her throat and hold it there a few seconds.
“Oh fuuuuck that feels so good.”
Stacy releases his cock from her mouth and straddles him. Her pussy lips barely touching the head of his cock.
David lifts his hips, trying to enter her wet pussy.
Stacy lifts her hips up just enough to deny him. She isn’t done teasing him.
She lowers her hips just enough to take the tip in. Again David raises his hips, again Stacy matches him.
Stacy circles her hips on just his cock head before slamming down on his cock, sending it to the back of her womb, filling it full of his cock.
Stacy starts riding him hard. Raising up and slamming down.
David matches her thrust for thrust. The two of them fucking each other like it’s a an all out brawl.
David reaches down and circles her clit with his thumb. He feels his balls tighten up. He holds out as long as possible before blowing his wad deep into Stacy’s womb.
Feeling his cum hit her cervix, Stacy bounces harder and faster, before his cock softens, finally reaching her own orgasm as David feverishly works her clit.
Stacy falls onto David’s chest as they both lay there catching their breath.
After a few minutes, David rolls them over so he’s on top of her and kisses her before standing up. David offers a hand to Stacy to stand up. When he gets her to her feet, he throws her in the lake and jumps in after her.
They splash and mock fight before walking out of the lake hand in hand.
David grabs a couple towels out of the closet by the jacuzzi, handing one to Stacy.
They walk into the master bedroom from the porch, leaving the door open and only closing the screen.

Happy Wednesday! It's officially week 2 of October - my sweaters are out, my cinnamon candles are doing their thing, and it's finally feeling like spoopy season with some cloudy, rainy days on the horizon. 🎃👻

Welcome back to Wordcount Wednesday! I loved reading through all your updates, shout-outs, and feedback last week, and I'm so excited to hear from you again. If you haven't already checked out our image prompts for the October contest yet, consider this your gentle mid-month reminder - there’s plenty of seasonal inspiration waiting for you over there. Or don't and just wing it.

Let's dive into this week's questions:

• What have you written this week? Anything you're struggling with finishing?
• What have you read this week that deserves a shout-out?
• How do you stay motivated to post and share? How do you avoid burnout?
• Bonus question, if interested: what is your favorite Halloween movie, scary, cozy, or otherwise?

Also, thank you all for the feedback regarding themes for the image prompt contests. It was good to hear how they've been landing for you, and we will be sure you discuss it ahead of November's image prompt selections. 🖤

Synopsis: I’m sick in bed, and Paxton decides he’s too good to stop by. Whatever. It’s not like I care. 

PART 10 (has links for PARTS 1-9) | PART 11 | PART 12

~

10 a.m. I don't hear from Paxton until 10 a.m. I flew back from Italy yesterday, and came down with…something. I blame the airport. It’s always the airports. Just my luck. I don’t know if it’s toddlers who can’t keep their grubby little hands to themselves or if it’s just other adults who don’t have the decency to cover their mouths when they sneeze or cough. It’s fucking disgusting, and now I’m bedridden. 

I stare at his message in disbelief. 

Hello, Lyra. Work is asking if you’re alive. While I am inclined to say yes, I am requesting proof of life. Perhaps in the form of an explicit picture. I promise only the utmost confidentiality, and that no one else will see it. Best, Henry Paxton. 

Cheeky bastard. I draft up a quick response. No need to be so verbose: 

Hi, Paxton. Fuck off. Proof of life to follow. 

I follow with a selfie. My eyes are glossed over, there’s a cooling patch on my forehead, and the thermometer in my mouth shows my fever. And how can I leave out my personal favorite: my middle finger.

Oh, shit. I figured you were playing hooky to extend your vacation. I'll let the boss know. Get some rest.

Let me know if you need anything haha

Chicken noodle soup, please. Some Tylenol too. Maybe cooling patches? 🤒And your Netflix login.

Okay, me asking was more of a formality haha can't you send Roger to get that for you? 

Last time we had phone sex, I’m pretty sure I distinctly remember you saying how you were going to come and rail me the first chance you got once I got back 😒

I felt particularly feral when I was in Italy. While I joked all the time about finding some overseas dick to appease me, it wasn’t anything I could really do. Especially when Paxton was just a phone call or text away. The best part was that he was always available. Or it seemed that way. It never feels like he’s got much going on besides whatever boring shows he’s watching when I’m not with him. Paxton’s basically wrapped around my finger, and I can usually get him to do a little bit of anything if I get him in the mood first. 

My phone goes off again:

Yeah, that was before I knew you were sick 

I don’t think I’m contagious if that’s what you’re wondering 

We could, you know, just actually hang out, you know. Or are you implying that I’m only good for sex? 

Before we started hooking up, we’ve NEVER hung out just the two of us alone in the entire time we've known each other. We only ever ended up at the same place by chance or we both had to be there (in the case of school) 

Well, fine. Give me your Netflix login, at least. 🙄

Oh were you serious about that? lol I thought that was a joke. You don't have your own account??

No. That's why I'm asking for yours, dumbass. 

What are you gonna watch 

That one show we watched when I went to your place for the first time.

I thought you said it was boring haha

It IS, but what else am I gonna do, considering you’re not coming over today? 🙄 

I never said I’m not coming over. 

I’ll stop by the store and come by after work.

Netflix? 🥺

I’ll send it after this meeting 😬 

Don’t forget. 

~

I feel too weak to do anything, outside of watching Paxton’s show. It’s too cold outside the blanket, anyway. I’m content here, so there’s no reason for me to leave my room. After dozing off, I wake up, and Paxton‘s standing at my bedside, face full of worry. I asked him groggily, “How’d you get here?” 

Paxton’s eyebrows furrow. “You’re the one who gave me the convoluted directions. Just like you said, I parked like six blocks away so that my car wasn’t anywhere near the house. I walked to the side entrance and met Roger at the gate. He let me in after that.”

“Did you get the stuff?” I ask, only now noticing the plastic bag in his hands. 

“Yeah, I got everything,” Paxton mumbles, setting the bag down on my bedside table. “When was your last dose of Tylenol? And the last time you ate?”

“Next question.”

“What are you doing?” He says, and I can hear the frustration in his voice. Paxton helps me sit up and props some pillows behind my back. He puts the back of his hand to my forehead. “You’re burning up. You’ve gotta take care of yourself. You literally have an entire staff of people whose job it is to make sure you’re okay.”

“If you’re just gonna be mad at me, just leave, then,” I spit, regretting it immediately.

Paxton glares at first, but his expression softens. He looks down, breaking eye contact, and sighs. “I’m not mad. Just…worried. You’re lucky the fever isn’t worse.”

He grumbles to himself, taking out the soup and uncapping it. Paxton scoops a spoonful and blows on it, carefully moving it towards my mouth. 

Humming happily to myself, I take the bite. Warmth settles in my stomach when I look at Paxton. “That’s good.” 

When Paxton reaches for my blanket, I clutch it tighter when I feel the cold rush in. Stubbornly, I pull the sheets back, and Paxton looks at me with eyebrows sharper than they usually are. “You have to get out of the blanket. You’re too warm.”

“It’s too cold without it,” I tell him, not loosening my grip. 

After rolling his eyes, he storms out.

Sitting in silence, I stare at the soup he left at my bedside. It’s still steaming, and I lean over to sneak another bite. The warmth returns, but it’s joined by a tightness in my chest. I didn’t even get to thank him. 

I perk up when he comes back with a wet rag and a small container of water. He grabs the blanket. With a face full of resolve, he asks, nodding towards the blanket, “Can I have this now? It isn’t doing any favors.”

Reluctantly, I let him take the sheets. 

Disbelief drops his jaw when he looks at me. “And you’re wearing the thickest pajamas ever? Lyra.” 

“What? I was cold,” I whine. 

Paxton squirms in place. There’s nervousness in his expression. I don’t see it often, but it’s kind of cute. His fingers fiddle with the thick material of my pants. “I’m gonna…take these off, okay?”

“Why are you so shy?” I ask, giggling. Every word that comes out slurs. Everything’s moving slower than usual. “It’s not like you’ve never done this before. You love me without my clothes on.”

“But this is different,” Paxton says, blushing. After a sigh, he grabs my pajama pants by the pockets. “Come on. I’m serious.”

“Serious about playing doctor, I think,” I tease him, unable to stop myself from laughing. I love the look on his face. Lifting my hips off the bed, cold rushes over my skin when he removes my pants. 

My laughter stops when he pulls my hoodie off, and it gets stuck over my head. “Asshole. You did that on purpose.”

“I didn’t. You’ve got a big head,” Paxton says, wincing when my fist meets his shoulder. “You’re surprisingly strong for being so sick.” 

“So cold,” I tell him, shivering now that I’m wearing nothing but panties. With a grin, I climb into Paxton’s lap. “Like what you see?”

“I’d like it better if you stayed still.” He shakes his head, wrapping an arm around my waist to hold me in place. 

This fever is rough on me. According to Paxton, I have a temperature, but right now? I’m freezing. To make matters more confusing. Paxton‘s touch feels so warm against my skin. With a shudder, I hold his hand on me, tracing my curves. God. I missed his touch. It’s been too long.

I whine when a cold washcloth makes contact with my back. Shivering, I glare at Paxton and pout. “You're so mean.”

“It’s for your own good,” Paxton says. His face is as concentrated as he can be. I see his eyes veer, taking glances at my body. After dipping the cloth back in cold water and wringing it out, he repeats the process for my arms and legs. I shiver each time, and my fingers grip his sleeve. 

A draft passes over my skin, and I shake, holding Paxton tighter. We stare at the only part he's neglected. More shy than usual, he says, “Um, you can get that part, right?”

“It feels nicer when you do it,” I tell him, grinning.

He dips his cloth back in the water and squeezes out the excess. Biting my lip in anticipation, I watch as the cloth along my collarbone sends a chill through me. As he moves it lower to my chest, between my breasts, I guide his hand towards one of my peaks, harder now that the cold water cools my skin.

I stare into his eyes, and he breaks eye contact, looking at my lips. I lick them, widening my smile, and he looks at me, trying to shake off what I'm feeling too. 

“We shouldn’t,” Paxton mumbles. “You’re not feeling well.”

“I still want it. It’s been like a week since I felt you inside me,” I tell him, pouting. “Don’t you want it too?”

“I do,” Paxton admits, looking away and cursing under his breath. “Maybe after I'm done wiping you down…”

After he gives attention to my other breast, I pull him down by his neck until his lips press against soft tissue. A soft kiss against my breast pulls a tiny groan from my mouth. His tongue grazes my nipple, and the warmth of his mouth contrasts sharply with the cold water. 

I moan, and his hands rest on my waist, gripping tighter. “Focus, Paxton.” 

“S-sorry,” he stammers, wetting the cloth again. Maybe the arousal’s gotten to his head, but he forgets to wring it this time. The cloth touches my stomach, and my core twitches as water drips down my body. 

“F-fuck,” I say, tightening my grip on his arm. Every cold drop trickling down my body is a touch I wish were Paxton’s hand instead. I squirm when the water drips down to the skin under my panties. Pulling Paxton closer, I kiss his jawline and whisper my complaint, “You got me wet, and not in a good way.”

“Sorry,” he says, shuddering at every breath that lands on his skin. 

“At this point, you might as well just take them off, right? I tell him, lifting my ass off his lap. He pulls my underwear off, letting it drop to the ground, staring at every inch of exposed skin. Rolling my eyes, I tell him, “Stop staring like that. It’s not like you’ve never seen naked me before.” 

“It’s been a while, okay? Let me have this.” His hand cups a breast, squeezing tightly, and his mouth bites down on the sensitive skin of the other. “Fuck. I missed this.”

“Did you miss my body? Or did you miss me?” I ask, tugging on his bottom lip with my teeth. After biting harder, he winces, and his lips move to lock tightly against mine.

“I’ll definitely miss the quiet,” Paxton answers. 

“Shut up. I know you miss this mouth.” Rubbing him over his crotch, I smirk. “I bet you’re waiting to feel it around you. You want to fuck my mouth or put me in my place after all of this past week’s teasing?” 

“Your body needs rest,” Paxton says, shaking his head. His hand on my thigh gently guides my legs open. His fingertips feel hot on my skin, and I much prefer this over the frigid washcloth. He traces lower, and I can’t help but gasp as these nears the part I need him to touch. His lips graze mine. “Let me take care of you.” 

I grip around his arm when he slides two fingers into me, and my head ducks into his shoulder. “Fuck.”

“You’re so wet, already,” he comments while kissing me. “Don’t tell me that little sponge bath turned you on.”

“Fuck no,” I answer. “Don’t think you’re the only one who’s been needing this. You should’ve called off today so you could come fuck me.”

“With your condition, I would’ve spent more time taking care of you than doing anything like that,” Paxton jokes, laughing to himself.

After scoffing, I look away. “Are you calling me an inconvenience?”

Paxton places a palm on my cheek, and I make the mistake of nuzzling into it. Slowly, he turns my face so that I’m looking at him again. My breath stops. He smiles, easing me down to the bed. His hand on my face moves back to my nape. It feels so hot on my skin, but there’s nothing but goosebumps all over me. “Never.”

He kisses me softly, and I hold him there. Those lips are so soft. So gentle, right now. It’s what I needed, ever since he got here. Paxton’s done nothing but pamper me, and even still he aims to make me feel good. 

When his fingers curl, mine find the back of his hair and pull it lightly. He groans against my neck, kissing it softly, and I turn my head so he can kiss my lips instead. Paxton puts more pressure on my sweet spot. I moan against his mouth, opening my eyes to look into those deep eyes that are softer than I’ve ever seen, as if silently asking me if I’m okay. My moans should be a sufficient answer. 

But in truth, I’m in heaven. Paxton holds me tight to him, and that’s what keeps me warm. His fingers don’t let up, and my body arches off the bed to his rhythm, chasing his digits. I groan for him, and my fingers claw at his arm through his shirt. My breaths speed up.

“Paxton…” I say through my quivering lips. 

He kisses me deeply as my body spasms underneath him. His fingers hammer at my sweet spot, following the rhythm of my walls clenching around him. Shallow breaths barely push past my nostrils. 

When my body stills, I stare up at my ceiling. My chills are gone, and I have the widest grin across my face. I grab his clothes, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. I motion towards his pants and tell him sharply, “Take those off.”

“What?” he asks, looking at me with disbelief and a crooked smile. Even so, he doesn’t complain. He hops off the bed to practically jump out of his pants. “That wasn’t enough for you?”

“You promised me dick, so how am I supposed to be satisfied with just your fingers?” I argue, rolling my eyes. 

“Looks like you came just fine to me,” Paxton says, grinning. His smile only widens when I shove his face away after he tries to kiss me.

You said you’d take care of me.” I’m hoping the heat in my face is from the fever still. “So you better not go back on your word.”

I gasp when I feel this tip graze my entrance. He inches in slowly, and my hands rest on his ass, gripping it, pulling him in as my groans beg for more. “I was so ready to ride you until you were begging me for mercy, but I feel like I can barely move.” 

Paxton supports himself on his elbows while his arms snake under me. His hands cradle the back of my head, and his forehead presses into mine. He’s staring into my eyes. When he flashes that smile, it might as well be over for me. “Just leave it to me, okay? You don’t have to worry about anything.”

A soft kiss purges all thoughts from my brain. My head was already light from the fever, but now it’s nothing but butterflies and a pleasant buzz. His hands on my waist send a jolt through my body, and his tip rubs into the front of my walls.

I hold him down to me, pushing my tongue past his lips, and he moans. He thrusts deeper, but keeps the slow tempo. I like it like this. His chest presses down into my cold nipples, and his warmth is so comforting. 

Every stroke is slow. The rhythm teases me, but satisfies me all the same. He’ll trace the length of my entrance with his tip, then ease in, letting me feel every inch, until he slams hard at the peak of his thrust. Each time he pulls out, a cool draft passes over my slit, and I’m begging for his warmth all over again, biting his lip. 

My nails rake at his back, and I hear him wince, but he doesn’t stop. He keeps his pace, listening for my every breath. Paxton groans, and I feel him twitch. I tighten in response, and my arms coil around him as my forehead tucks against his chest. I can’t tell whether that’s my sweat or his, but my cries echo against his body as I buck into him. “I…I…Paxton…”

His fingertips rub my scalp, and his palms hold my head gently. He stares into my eyes, nodding. “Come for me. Lyra, I want to hear you come for me.” 

Breathy moans muffle against his skin when I kiss his neck. Paxton doesn’t dare stop or change up his tempo. He thrusts until I’ve had my fill, and he sits up, wiping his forehead. “How was that?”

“It was…good enough,” I lie, ignoring his smirk. Using whatever strength I can muster, I hold my knees back. Biting my lip, I tell him. “You can go harder if you want.”

More force behind his hips sends my eyes rolling back. He’s slamming into my sweet spot. Paxton reaches for the washcloth on the bedside table, and it drips down as he holds it above where our bodies meet. Every drop feels like ice, and I twitch when water drips down to my bud.

I shoot Paxton a look, and he shrugs. “I’m just trying to cool you down.” 

Giving the cloth a squeeze more, water lands on my skin, dragging slowly on its way to my clit. The cold feels like intense against the sensitive nerves, but the warmth of his hardness helps ease the feeling. My mind is spinning. The constant back and forth of hot and cold has me sprialing, and the only thing keeping me grounded is the rising heat that radiates whenever he slams into my sweet spot. 

“That’s too much,” I mumble, pulling his hand away from my stomach. Shudders leave my shaky lips when the cloth drips onto my breasts. The cold droplets gather on my skin, moving with every bounce from Paxton’s hard strokes. 

He leans down, lapping up the water with his tongue, and I grin, holding his head into me. Paxton holds my knees back, giving my arms a break, and I use the opportunity to swipe at my clit. I follow his pace, even as he speeds up, and each thrusts brings me closer to climax. 

My legs shake, and every crash of his body into mine is a burst of bliss. Paxton picks up his pace, pistoning into me, and it doesn’t take much more before it breaks the rhythm of my fingers. I grab him by his hair, damp with sweat, until his lips crash into mine. A few more thrusts send me overboard, and sporadic moans muffle against him. 

“Fuck,” Paxton cries out. “I’m gonna come.” 

I push him out of me, and tap the spot by my head. “Right here. Hurry—”

Grasping his base, I glide over his length now that he’s covered in me. I stroke faster, pulling countless groans from his lips. My free hand cups his balls, pressing into his taint, and I stick my tongue out, pressing it against the bottom of his shaft, flicking along it.

“Come. Give it to me,” I tell him, staring into his eyes. “Make a mess.”

Paxton grabs my hair, tugging it, and shoots a thick rope across my face. I work fast to swallow his cock, bobbing my head and sucking as hard as I can, gulping down every spurt that follows. Sharp breaths slip past gritted teeth, and they fizzle into quiet whimpers. 

When he regains his composure, he tries to clean my face, wiping his cum with his finger, but I take it into my mouth, sucking it clean. Paxton grins. “Someone’s feeling better.”

“I’ve got a little bit in my stomach now,” I say, smiling, splaying my arms across the bed as I fall with a thud.

“Barely,” Paxton argues, grabbing the soup and spoon and handing it to me. “Eat.”

I furrow my brows, but he seems insistent, so I sit up. It’s cooled down since he first brought it, so it’s the perfect temperature now. Eating in silence, I watch as Paxton fiddles with my TV, looking for something to watch. I’m the first to say anything: “Since we did that, it’s not a waste of you coming here.” 

He turns to me and frowns. “Lyra, I’m sorry that I said that. That’s not what I meant. At all. I don’t know. I just figured that you only ever wanted to see me if it involved sex.” 

Paxton sits, back, laughing to himself. “My best friends were in town two weekends ago. We went to a trivia night thing at a bar, and…I…almost asked if you wanted to come.” 

I slurp my soup, not looking his way. “Why didn’t you?” 

“I didn’t think you’d be interested,” Paxton admits. 

“Consider asking me first, then,” I tell him, sharper than I mean, while gulping down another bite. “Don’t make assumptions about me. Though…I guess I had that coming.” 

“You don’t, though.” 

I snap my head to look his way.

Paxton offers a nervous half-smile. “It’s just that we’re kind of doing this backwards. Most people get to know each other before the sex part happens.” 

Looking down, I stare at my soup, not realizing how much I’ve had already. “Yeah, I feel like I’m learning more and more about you every day.”

“Anything good at least?” he asks.

“Yeah, you have shit taste in shows,” I say, laughing when he face drops. “Okay, it’s not as boring as I thought, but it’s so confusing. I don’t know what’s going on at all.” 

“Did you start at the beginning?”

“No,” I tell him, cocking a brow. “I just continued where we left off.”

“Well, that’s why!” Paxton grabs the remote, and points it at the TV. “We’re starting from the beginning.”

“What?” I reach for the remote, but he holds it away from me. “How long will it take catch up?” 

“If we start now, we might be able to finish by tomorrow morning,” he says.

“You have work tomorrow, you know?” 

Paxton shakes his head. “I decided right now to call off. I can’t trust you to take care of yourself, so I’ll do it. Tell Roger to prepare the guest room.”

“No,” I argue, scooting closer to Paxton until our shoulders touch. “You have to be next to me in case I need you.” 

Submitted for image 17

—————

“Can I suck your dick?” A voice that felt both far away, yet right next to me asked.

I was startled awake.

I opened blurry eyes and rubbed my face, clearing away crusty bits and drool. This couch was dangerously comfortable, I hadn’t meant to fall asleep during my Halloween movie marathon, but here I was.

Wait, did someone say something? I definitely misheard or dreamt that, right?

I turned my head to see her.

“Hi,” she waved.

“Oh shit.” My roommate had a group of friends over, I wasn’t ready for that. Instead I’d opted to hide away in my room. “Hey, how’d you get in here?”

“Yeah I was at the party and your roommate said your name was Xavier. Everyone always calls you Professor, so I never knew. But it’s Xavier, right?” She just stood there, as my still half-asleep mind tried to catch up. “Sorry for barging in here by the way, I did knock but you didn’t answer.”

“Ummm…it’s okay I guess.” I’d recently been broken up with by my long term girlfriend, Gillian. So, when my roommate decided to throw his annual Halloween party, I’d opted for a movie marathon in my room instead. “Yeah, the Professor thing is a joke. Professor Charles Xavier, Professor X, from X-Men.”

“I don’t know what that is, but is your name Charles, or Xavier?”

“Xavier. And you’re…Stacy…Lacy…” I snapped my fingers trying to remember, I knew I’d seen her around a few times.

“Kacy.”

“Right. Kacy. Listen Kacy, I’m not sure why…” I noticed her costume for the first time. A cheerleader outfit, but with some pale makeup, making her look a little zombie-like. She was cute, like really cute, and the costume was stirring something in me. “Is that from something? I can’t quite place it.” I motioned to her outfit.

“Oh, my costume?!? Do you like it? I was just gonna do the cheerleader thing, but my friends were giving me a hard time, telling me, oh, you’re just using Halloween as an excuse to dress slutty, which okay, probably true. So I added the makeup and now I’m, like, an undead cheerleader or something.”

“Sexy undead cheerleader,” I corrected.

“Thanks,” she giggled. “So can I?”

“Can you what?”

“Suck your dick.” Kacy pointed and my crotch and pantomimed deepthroating an imaginary cock.

“WAIT, WHAT!?! I thought I dreamt that.”

She simply smiled at me, as I was really starting to become distracted by just how cute she was. Her smile was infectious, and I found myself grinning like an idiot.

“No, it wasn’t a dream. I need an X.”

“I think I’m missing something cause that didn’t make any sense.” I was beginning to wonder why I was drawing this out. This girl, who was growing hotter by the second, was offering something I hadn’t had in weeks now.

Am I stupid? This was too good to be real, just say ‘yes’ before you fuck it up.

She sat on the couch next to me, pulled out a little black notebook, handing it to me. I opened it and read the contents.

“We call it The Alphabet Game,” she said.

Alex
Ben
Carlos
Danny
Eric
Freddy
Gus
Henrik
Ian
Jon
Kevin
Lance
Marcus
Matty (oops, forgot I did this one already)
Nick
Omar
Paul
Quinn
Russ
Steve
Ted
U?????
Victor
Wes
X??????
Yan
Zach

Each name was written in unique handwriting before being crossed out. The notation next to Matty’s name seemed to be in a more feminine hand, Kacy’s I guessed.

“Who’s We? And what is this?”

“So, my friend and I are playing a game. Seeing who can blow every letter of the alphabet first.”

I stared at the names, trying to make sense of everything. If I understood her correctly, it ment she’d given twenty-five blowjobs just for the sake of a game. I felt myself plump up at the thought of being her next participant.

“Okay, so, you’re trying to find guys whose names start with every letter of the alphabet and suck them off? And you’re two away, X and U? What do you get if you win?”

“Oh…ummm…bragging rights, I guess, and a lot of cum.” Kacy laughed as she touched my leg. “What are you watching? I didn’t know they made movies like this in black-and-white.”

“It’s Night of the Living Dead, it’s a classic. It kinda started the genre.” I tried to push down my annoyance; she didn’t know the X-Men, she put like zero effort into her Halloween costume—even though there would have been a ton of good options in the theme of sexy undead cheerleader types—and now she failed to identify George A. Romano’s classic zombie movie. Oh, and she burst into my room uninvited and woke me up! But she was offering a no-strings-attached blowjob.

I forgave her instantly.

“Are there any more rules? Anything else you want me to do?”

“The only other rule is that you can’t be in a relationship. We aren’t looking to hurt anyone or cause a break up. It’s just supposed to be silly dirty fun. But I hear you just become single, right?”

“Yeah,” I sighed.

“Listen if you’re not ready, we don’t have to, I want you to want it.”

“Oh, I want it! And yes, Gillian broke up with me a couple weeks ago.”

“Awwww, poor guy.” Kacy rubbed my shoulder. “Well I’d love to Cheer you up.” It was a lame joke, but she was hot and about to make me cum. I laughed. “Want me naked?” She asked.

Kacy stood up and wedged herself between my legs. I took a quick second to mute the movie, the impending zombie attack wasn’t exactly going to set the mood. She took my hand and placed it on her knee. Together our hands reached up and under her skirt, finding her panties.

“You want me too…” I asked.

She nodded, and I slid them down over her thighs, and past her knees, where they eventually fell to the floor. She stepped out of them and handed them to me.

“It’s okay.” Again she nodded at me. “I know boys are a little naughty sometimes.” I sniffed and went from plump to rigid. My hardness easily visible through my sweatpants. Kacy put her arms around my neck and giggled. “I see you like it.”

“I’d wear them like a mask if I thought you wouldn’t judge me for it.” We both laughed with a nervous, horny, energy.

“I would judge you a dirty, dirty boy.” She held out her hand and I begrudgingly gave them back. “I’ll need to wear them later, or I’d let you.” She undid a few buttons or snaps or something and removed her skirt. I was too distracted to notice how it happened, all I know is she was suddenly bottomless, inches away from me.

She ran her hands through a well manicured bush and lightly tapped the lips of her pussy. Strings of moisture clung to her fingertips.

“Mmm…look how excited I am. Almost as excited as you are.”

Kacy dropped to her knees and grabbed my pants with authority. I arched my hips and allowed her to pull them to my ankles. My hard cock sprung free, slapping against my stomach before settling between the two of us. Throbbing. Begging to be touched.

“I can help you out,” I suggested. “Finger you or eat you out, or something. If you’re gonna blow me, I can reciprocate.”

“That’s sweet, but I want this to be for you. I’m a giver, so trust me I’m going to thoroughly enjoy this.”

For the first time, she grabbed me. A light touch that sent goosebumps rippling across my flesh. She kissed the underside of my dick with an unexpected sweetness.

I was forced to take a deep breath as the reality of it all began to set in. My reaction elicited a giggle and smile from Kacy’s beautiful face. She bit her lower lip as she stared down my throbbing hardness. If a look could finish me off, that was it. I needed to be careful. Kacy clearly had a talent for this, and if I wanted this to last for more than a minute I’d need to concentrate.

She dove in, and I watched my cock disappear through ruby-red lips. Her skills were obvious, Gillian had never been this enthusiastic about sex, and any oral we did was usually just a quick way for her to make me cum. I think it saved her the trouble of fucking me.

Kacy wanted to, she liked giving me pleasure and I began to enjoy her mouth in a way I’d forgotten was possible. I reached down and touched her face as she took me deeper.

“Is it hard on your knees down there? You could join me on the couch. Lay across my lap. It might be more comfortable.”

“Awww, such a gentleman.”

As she stood, I ran my hands over her body. She lifted her top, freeing her tits. I buried my face in them and enjoyed a hard nipple against my cheek.

“I’m sorry if I was kind of a dick when you first came in, I think I was still half-asleep. You’re amazing.”

“Were you cranky because I woke you from your nap?” She chuckled as she stroked my hair. “Well let me put you in a good mood.” Her hand pushed lightly against my chest, and I leaned back.

“You’re really good at this!”

Kacy took her spot next to me and laid her face in my lap. “I’ve got some experience.”

“Haha, yeah at least twenty-five. How long has it taken anyway, that’s a lot of blowjobs.”

“Ummm…we’ve been at it for about three months. I know my friend is getting close, she still needs U and X, but I think she’s missing O and maybe Y. I haven’t checked in with her for a couple of days.”

“Damn, twenty-five BJ’s in three months is a lot!”

“HEY!?! Are you slut shaming me?”

“What, no!”

Kacy laughed and slapped my cock against her cheek before taking me in her mouth. She took me all the way down to the base, deepthroating me for the first time in my life. Her head bobbed and she made that Gak Gak Gak noise as the tip of my dick curved down the back of her throat.

She looked up at me and smiled. “Are you sure I don’t look too slutty?” She laughed. Messy saliva covered her chin and dripped down my balls.

“Fuck Kacy! Fuck!”

I put my hands behind my head and interlocked my fingers. I’m not sure I’ve ever smiled harder. I didn’t realize how badly I had needed this. Not just the oral sex, but the human contact, the attention of a beautiful woman. I’d been hiding from the world since Gillian had ended things. This felt like being pulled back into it.

Kacy must have felt my attention wandering, and she grabbed it back, literally. She squeezed my balls and swirled her tongue against my tip.

I felt a familiar pressure building.

“Kacy, I’m gonna cum.”

“Mmm hmm.” Her head bobbed furiously.

“No, seriously I’m about to…oh…fuck…FUCK!!! My feet kicked and I filled her mouth. Kacy just hummed a laugh as I pumped my load into her mouth. “Oh, god. I’m sorry I didn’t give you more warning.”

She squeezed my balls again, making sure to take every drop from me. Then she casually crossed the room, dug an empty fast food cup out of my trash and spit.

“It’s okay, I like it when guys finish in my mouth, plus it’s cleaner. That was a big load. It would have made a real mess, now it’s all in here.” She shook the paper cup.

“Oh, well…doesn’t it taste bad?”

“Sometimes it does. Sometimes it’s quite nice.”

“How was mine.”

“Well, maybe less fast food.” She eyed my trash filled with various bags. “Eat some fruit if you want it to taste better.”

“That bad?”

“I’ve tasted worse. I’ve tasted better.”

I handed her a glass of water I kept by my bed so she could rinse her mouth.

“So now you just need to find a U, huh?”

“Yeah, do you know any? An Ulrich, Ulf or Ulysses perhaps?”

“Haha, no sorry. I don’t know any Pirates, Vikings or Civil War Generals.”

“Damn. Oh well,” she sighed. “Before I forget.” She handed me her notebook and a pen. I wrote my name in her book and handed it back. She grinned as she ceremoniously crossed off my name. “Oh, hey, if a girl named Monica stops by don’t tell her your name is Xavier.”

“I won’t, I promise…wait…” the implication hit me. “Wouldn’t she give me a blowjob if I did? Are you asking me to turn away a sure thing?”

“Yes and yes.”

“Let me take you out sometime. The retro theater down the street is gonna be playing Evil Dead 2 all week. Wanna go.”

“I’m not looking for a boyfriend. I’ve given countless blowjobs, but I can count on one hand the number of guys I’ve actually slept with. So if you’re hoping for more…”

“Just friends, nothing else.” I held up my hand defensively. “I promise. I’m still getting over Gillian, I’m not ready for anything more.”

“Okay, but I haven’t see the first one.”

“What? Oh!” I laughed. “You don’t have to, the first half is basically a retelling of part one.”

Kacy got dressed and gave me a hug. “It’s a fun party. You should come say hi to everyone.”

She was right, was done sulking. I opened the door for her and walked down the hallway with my hand on her hip.

I wanted to thank her, and I could only think of one real way to do so. When we reached the busy party I shouted over the music and conversation. “Does anybody here know a guy who’s name start with a U? I can’t tell you why, but it’s very important we find one. He’ll thank you, trust me.”

A hand on the other side of the room rose above the crowd.

Part 1 - A Lady Police Officer Caught Me

In passenger seat, she looked more beautiful. I was getting distracted by her round thick ass and thighs. While she was making ponytail her face glowed with evening sunlight. My eyes glued to her supple breasts when she wrapped seat belt around her.

"You better not overspeed" she said it with smirk. I observed her batch on the chest. "Saloni M."

"You are not officer anymore, Saloni. You are a hot chick to whom I want to give a ride."

We both stared at each other for a moment and then burst into loud laughter.

While I was driving, she kept on sharing about her love for cars. I enjoyed listening to her articulate speech.

"Thanks for dropping by, you spoiled brat. Would you like to have coffee, unless you are getting late for the party?"

She asked with cutest smile.

It was dark outside. I followed her. It seemed to me that she was deliberately swaying her ass in front of me. I wanted to grab her from behind, slide my hand over her thick ass, kiss her neck and squeeze her boobs.

"I will quickly change and prepare the best coffee for two of us. Meanwhile you can watch TV." She switched on the lights and directed me towards the sofa in the hall.

But I had no intention to sit in hall. I just followed her to the bedroom and sat in the chair near the door. She had not switched on bedroom lights yet. She stood in front of the cupboard at the other end of the room to change.

"I want to see you undressing the uniform."

"Really?" She was surprised at this preposition.

"Please don't think this coffee invitation more that what it is." She added.

I looked deep in her eyes. Without hesitation, I iterated, again, "I want to see you undressing". I got more comfortable in my chair.

She rolled her eyes. I could see she smiled a little as she liked my bold demands.

"Lights will remain turned off." She insisted.

"Okay."

She unbuttoned her top really slow. She was teasing me. She removed the shirt and kept inside the cupboard. Now I could see her in bra. Even in dim light, I her boobs were popping out and creating a best cleavage to admire. She was fit. Flat stomach.

Now she unbuckled her belt and struggled to remove her tight trousers. My penis started getting hard. I could feel it has grown...long and thick. She was wearing a very thin panty. She turned and deliberately bend down to show me her ass. I adjusted myself in chair. My hand rested on my bulge and rubbed myself. Keeping her back towards me, she unhooked her bra. With her breasts freed, I could see their curved from the side. This teasing was fucking killing me. I unzipped myself and pulled out my penis. She wore a white tshirt and then turned slowly towards me to show her perky breasts. I caressed my penis. She dropped her panties to show me her bushy pubic hairs then immediately covered with another white pair.

She moved past, giving me a smug look. I was hard as hell yet defeated. I sat there, contemplating what had just happened.

My attention was broken when I heard the clinking of coffee cups. I removed my jeans and underwear. Determined I went straight to kitchen...

I was sitting beside my husband, Dave, in his truck, headed to the concert we’d been looking forward to all summer. He had invited his coworker, Alana, and her husband, Rob, neither of whom I’d met before. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect, but the moment we pulled up to their house, I had a feeling we were in for a fun night.

They came outside smiling, cooler in hand, clearly ready for a good time. I climbed into the back seat with Alana, leaving the guys to catch up in the front.

We spent the first half hour making small talk before I finally asked how they had met.

Dave burst out laughing. “They met when she finally realized she liked men again!”

Everyone laughed, and Alana explained that although she was happily married to Rob, she’d had plenty of experience dating women, too.

The conversation quickly became more playful, and I found myself relaxing around our new friends. What had started as a slightly awkward car ride was turning into an evening filled with laughter, teasing, and a surprising amount of flirtation.

Rob reached back and asked for a drink from the cooler between the seats. I leaned forward to grab one, only to hear Dave chuckle from the driver’s seat.

“Judging by the way Alana’s looking at Kim’s tits, I’m not so sure she’s exclusively interested in men these days.”

I froze for a second before bursting into laughter and shaking my boobs to emphasize the accusation. Alana laughed too, making absolutely no effort to deny his accusation.

“Well, can you blame me?” she teased.

I felt my cheeks grow warm, but I couldn’t help smiling.

As I leaned forward to hand Rob his drink, he glanced at me and whispered, “For what it’s worth, I think the view is great too.”

Dave caught the exchange and smirked.

“Oh, this is going to be an interesting night.” He says as he slid his hand down the top of my shirt. “They feel just as good as they look.”

Hearing that, Alana leans in next to me to see what’s going on and Rob reaches down her shirt too. We all sat there for a few seconds with both men playing with our nipples before I catch myself staring at Alana’s full tits. I catch a glimpse of her nipple as Rob pulls his hand out and catch Dave’s eyes as I quickly look away. “Looks like you have a view you’re enjoying too Kim” he said with a smirk. I blush and say, “Can you blame me?” And Rob catches my eye and winks at me.

Dave laughs and says “Rob what do you think, who’s are nicer?”. I could believe he was being so bold! Rob and I immediately blush. “Dave!” I say and scoot back laughing.

I shook my head, laughing. We’d barely been in the truck for half an hour, and already the conversation had taken a turn I never could have anticipated.

Alana leaned closer to me, still smiling.

“I have to say, this is already more fun than I expected.”

“You’re telling me,” I replied.

Dave glanced at us in the rearview mirror taking a long glimpse at Alana’s slightly exposed nipples. “Just remember, we’ve still got an entire concert ahead of us.”

“Then you’d better keep your eyes on the road,” Rob said, laughing.

“Hey man when the headlights are on you can’t help but stare”. Alana chimes in, “Guys they’re just boobs” and pulls her shirt fully down flashing the three of us and then pulling them back up.

Dave looks at me with excitement and teasing in his eyes in the rear view mirror and asks, “Kim are they just boobs?!”

“Pretty hot boobs!” I respond, squirming a little and feeling myself start to get turned on.

“I agree but so are yours, maybe you should share with the class?” Dave says.

Rob chimes a bit to eagerly saying, “Yea it’s only fair!”. I hesitate knowing my nipples are already hard thinking about Alana’s boobs and the idea of revealing my slightly smaller perky boobs. Before I lose my nerve, I pull my shirt down and give everyone a look quickly before fixing my shirt and sitting back blushing, a little embarrassed, and a lot turned on.

The rest of the drive passed in a blur of laughter, teasing remarks, and exchanged glances. Every time I caught Alana looking at me, she smiled knowingly. I wasn’t sure whether she was simply enjoying the attention or deliberately trying to make me blush.

Either way, it was working.

By the time we pulled into the tailgating lot, the atmosphere inside the truck had changed completely. What had begun as an evening with two people I’d never met now felt like an adventure none of us had planned.

We found a parking spot and settled near the back of the truck. Music drifted through the crowded lot as people wandered between vehicles, laughing, carrying drinks, and enjoying the warm evening.

A group beside us had started a game of beer pong, while the people parked on our other side appeared to have already headed into the venue.

Rob looked at me with an amused expression.

“Well, Kim, you’re awfully quiet all of a sudden.”

“I’m just trying to figure out what kind of trouble you three are planning to get me into.”

Alana laughed.

“Oh, I think you’re doing a pretty good job of finding trouble all on your own.”

Dave slipped an arm around my waist.

“She does have a talent for that.”

I nudged him playfully.

“You’re one to talk! You’ve been encouraging everyone since we left the house.”

“Guilty,” he admitted, raising his drink.

Rob laughed and shook his head, staring at my now covered boobs. “Staring a little long there Rob?!” Dave says with a laugh. “Kim, those nipples were pretty hard. I don’t think you’re hating this”

Alana lets out a giggle, “I don’t know Dave, those look like they may have needed a kiss” she says with expectation in her voice.

He looks at me with questioning eyes as he runs his hand up my arm to my shoulder . I give him a slight nod and he asks “What do you think Kim, they need a kiss?” Moving his fingers down my chest to the top of my shirt.

He slides my tank and bra down a bit in an effortless move and takes my nipple in his mouth, giving it a gentle bite and flick with his tongue. I gasp and feel a shock through my body straight to my pussy. He pulls his head back, leaving my nipple out and looks to Alana… “Alana before Rob didn’t you like kissing nipples?”

I let out a gasp and look around to see if anyone is watching. “Just because I’m with Rob doesn’t mean I don’t still like kissing nipples” she answers.

Robs eyes widen “Prove it” he says as he stares and shifts in his seat adjusting himself. We all look around… Alana leans over and gives my nipple a long slow wet kiss. Then as fast as it started, she pulls up my shirt and sits back down.

I can see Dave’s cock start to stiffen in his jeans. “Wow umm, ok so maybe Alana is still pretty good at that. Any feedback Kim?” he asks. Rob sits in complete shock, we all notice he starts to get hard through his pants as well.

“Pretty good is an understatement!” I laugh. “Only feedback is that my other one didn’t get any attention”.

Rob takes a big sip of his beer and looks at Alana and Dave. He awkwardly says “Well, uh, maybe one of you should fix that?”

“Maybe you should.” Dave says, and then looks to Alana. “I mean if that’s ok with you of course!” He says to her.

“I think she would like it” Alana responds. Dave reaches his hand over and pulls my shirt down again, this time exposing my other hard nipple.

“Let’s go hurry up there’s people every where” Dave urges Rob as he fumbles over and stares at Alana while he gently and softly kisses my nipple.

“Really Rob? Like you mean it!” Alana says. He looks at me as if asking for permission and I swallow and tell him to make it count. He commits, and takes my nipple back in his mouth, sucking on it before circling it with his tongue and reaching up to pinch the other through my shirt. He drags his teeth gently across it and I gasp and grab Dave’s hand as Rob pulls back and sits back in his seat looking shocked that he got the opportunity.

“So Kim, who’s got the best mouth here?” Dave asks with a smile. Rob looks around anxiously, Alana squirms in her seat a little.

“That’s not a fair question! The combination of all three of you has me sitting here squirming” I laugh. “You’re all pretty amazing”. There was no way I could choose. Dave knows exactly what I like and when to be more gentle or more rough with me. Alana’s lips were so soft and she knew just how much tongue and mouth to use, and the excitement Rob had to have my nipple in his mouth was contagious.

We all laughed, and I found myself looking at Alana again. There was something captivating about her confidence. She seemed completely comfortable with herself, and the way she held my gaze made me feel both nervous and curious.

She noticed me watching.

“What?” she asked, smiling.

“Nothing.”

“That didn’t look like nothing.”

I glanced at Dave, who was watching the exchange with an unmistakable grin.

“Don’t look at me,” he said. “I’m staying out of this one.”

“Since when?” I asked.

Rob nearly choked on his drink laughing.

“She’s got you there, Dave.”

As the conversation continued, Alana moved closer until our shoulders touched. It was such a small gesture, but it made me suddenly aware of how comfortable we’d become with one another.

“You’re fun, Kim,” she said quietly.

“So are you.”

I reach over to mess with the speaker and brush against Dave’s cock, realizing that Rob isn’t the only one enjoying this. He grabs my ass and says “You didn’t get a chance to taste a nipple though…”. He lets his voice trail off as he stares at Alana’s tits, noticing that Rob is rubbing his hand along her upper thigh.

The crowd starts to disperse as the opening act begins except for a few drunk kids hanging out at the car next to us… Dave pulls me down to sit on his lap facing Alana. “So uhh what do you think….” Before he can finish, Alana’s top comes totally off and I instinctively lean forward, gently taking her nipple in my mouth. I can feel Dave’s hard cock presses against me on his lap. Feeling his hard length against me only encourages me.

I suck her nipple into my mouth and tease her a bit and she puts her hand in my hair pulling me closer. I look up at her, nipple still in my mouth and she laughs saying “Damn Dave, your girl may have done this a time or two before!” She straddles my leg while I feel Dave’s cock twitch under me as she guides my head up and slowly leans in to kiss me, giving Dave a close up view of us. I glance over to look at Rob and notice he’s in shock of what’s happening.

The sun starts to set giving us slightly more privacy. Dave reaches his hand between Alana and I and starts to rub my pussy over my shorts. I notice that he very intentionally grazes against Alana’s with the back of his hand. Rob begins to stroke his cock over his pants, somewhat in shock and unable to control himself.

Alana lets out a moan into my mouth when she feels his hand rub against her. I’m sure Dave can feel that I’m already starting to get wet on his lap, and he takes her moan as permission to rub a little more against her as she slightly grinds against my leg.

“You both like that?” He asks. Rob reaches down and undoes his pants,his hard cock stands straight up as he strokes it. I look over and notice his impressive length, wondering how far this will all end up going while Dave’s hand continues to rub back and forth against both of our bodies.

I glance over and notice the guys next to us are still playing beer pong and mention that Rob seems to like what he’s watching, but looks pretty lonely sitting by himself. Alana turns her head and sees him watching us stroking himself slowly.

Alana slides off me and gets on her knees between his legs and takes the tip of his cock in her mouth. Dave takes the opportunity to pull me further into him and slides his hand down my shorts and starts to rub my pussy as we watch her suck. His fingers start softly on my already wet clit before starting to slide in and out of my tight entrance.

I rub against his hard cock and moan quietly while I feel his fingers enter me, stretching me expertly . I lean my head back towards his ear and whisper how sexy this is as we watch her take his cock all the way into her mouth. His eyes close and his head tilts back until she slides him slowly back out of her mouth and starts sucking the tip. His eyes open and he looks across at us, seeing Dave’s hand in my shorts and how good he’s making me feel.

He whispers in my ear “Maybe you should go help her babe.”

I let out a moan and respond “I…. I’m…. I don’t know”. He kisses my neck and slides his hand out of your pants.

“I wasn’t asking” he whispers. Loving when he takes control like this, I nod submissively and slide over between Rob’s legs next to Alana. She looks over at me, slightly surprised to see me next almost as if she forgot we were here before smiling and shifting to the side to make more space for us.

Rob looks down at me, and then up at Dave, and finally back down to the two of us between his legs. “Are you serious!?” He asks Dave, “This is ok?”

Dave nods say ing “Very ok!” as he leans back in his seat and takes a sip of his beer. Alana smiles and guides my head onto Rob’s cock as she moves my hair out of my face and gathers it behind my head.

I take him in my mouth and he groans as he feels my warm mouth surround his length. “Careful, those guys are still out here” Dave reminds him as Alana reaches down to massage his balls.

Dave takes out his thick hard cock and slowly stroke himself. “Take him in both your mouths” he directs us. Alana and I both look back at him at the same time and see his hard cock out, glistening at the tip.

“How lucky are we!?” Alana asks me.

“Enough talking” he tells us. “Share his cock”. His directions make my pussy need wetter as I follow his words and Alana and I each take a side of his cock in our mouths.

Dave strokes his cock for a moment, then slide down behind the two of us. I feel him slide my shorts down and start to rub both of our pussies while we suck him…. I give him a show, fully taking Rob’s cock hard and fast down my throat, the way I know he likes when I do that for him. Alana and I both moan as Dave’s fingers slide in and out of us. He stretch both our greedy holes easily with two fingers then three.

He looks to Rob, “Kim’s so good isn’t she?” His eyes roll back and his breath shortens.

Alana starts pushing back against Dave’s hand, getting close. She takes her mouth off Rob and says “He seems to really like Kim’s mouth” between breaths.

Dave pulls his fingers out of me and asks her, “Are nipples all you missed from being with a woman?”

As he holds his fingers up for her, she eagerly moves her head closer to him, taking his fingers into her mouth, tasting me on them. She sucks on his fingers eagerly and I know his cock is throbbing.

I feel Dave stand behind me and slide his cock into me slowly and I feel the top spread me open. I can’t help but moan and whine with a mouthful of Rob’s cock. He slides out of me and presses his wet cock against Alana’s lips, “See how she tastes on me.”

She first licks my juices off him, making sure to get every inch, and then begins to suck. Dave looks to Rob for approval, but his head is back and is eyes are closed as my head bobs up and down on him.

I tighten as I feel Dave use his left hand to rub my clit from behind while his right hand guides Alana’s head up and down on his cock, setting the pace for her.

I moan on Rob’s cock feeling Dave’s fingers back inside of me, filling me so perfectly and glance over to see him guiding her mouth to take you deeper. He catches my eye and says, “You’re such a good girl taking that cock”.

Alana thinks he’s talking to her, and takes him all the way into her mouth. Dave winks at me and I reach over to take his balls in my hand and massage gently as he slips his fingers out of me to rub my clit, getting me right to the edge of an orgasm before he stops and slowly pushes them back inside me.

Rob pulls his cock out of my mouth and guides Alana back, slide inside her pussy. She rocks back and forth with his full cock inside of her.  She guides my head on to Dave’s throbbing cock and I suck my man hard and fast as she moans and rubs her clit with her husband’s cock deep inside her.  She begins to twitch and cums hard on his cock.  

Dave looks down at me, while you suck him, “It looks really big babe. Do you want to cum on his cock too?”.

“I’ll cum however you tell me to as long as you let me cum” I tell him. Alana slides off Rob’s hard cock and looks up at Dave, waiting for him to give me direction.

Dave slides me back, and Alana guides her husband’s very wet, very throbbing cock into me. His thick cock stretches me. I let out a quick moan and Alana leans me back and starts to lick my clit while I ride Rob. The sensation is amazing and I start to worry I will cum right away.

Dave sits back and watches me take Rob’s cock and strokes himself. Alana rubs her pussy while she licks me. “Rob whatever you do, you have to pull out” Dave scolds him.

“Fuckkk, I’ll try” he moans as he feels his cock fill me. Alana’s tongue and his cock are enough to have me right on the edge of cumming quickly. I look up at Dave, “Dave, I’m so close. I need you in my mouth.” I beg.

He steps closer and fills my mouth with his cock, wrapping my hair around his hand, knowing I’m seconds away from coming undone with him inside me. He reaches down and pinches my nipple with his other hand and whispers in my ear, “Cum for us Kim, give us what we want”.

At the sound of his words, my pussy clenches down on Rob’s cock and I soak Alana’s mouth as I cum. My moan vibrates around Dave’s cock and I take him deeper in my mouth as the orgasm spreads through my body. Rob reacts quickly and pulls his cock out of me and shoots thick ropes of cum on to Alana’s unexpecting face.

Alana gasps as we watch how sexy she looks covered in his cum. Dave looks down at me, cock still in mouth. I’m still trembling from the orgasm and he fucks my willing mouth. “God Kim, this is so fucking hot. Im going to cum so hard for you.” He warns me as he starts to pull your cock out of my mouth.

He lets out a deep moan and pulls his cock out of my drooling mouth and cums directly on my face from my lips to my forehead.

“Fuck, I didn’t realize you guys were this fun!” As I move to wipe Dave’s cum off my chin, he grabs my wrist and stops me.

“I have a better idea, maybe we leave it there for the walk inside. What do you think?”

I look at Alana, who is still wearing Rob’s cum on her face and we smile nodding at each other. “I mean if I look half as good wearing your cum as she does wearing his I’m up for it”.

Rob looks shocked again “Wait, really?” He asks. “Everyone will know what we were doing here”

“That’s kind of hot, it’s the point you know? What do you think Alana?” I ask.

“I think I’m in” she smirks “Come on babe, won’t it be hot to let all these girls know what we have and they don’t? Plus, think of all the guys that will see and wish it was them who painted our faces.” She winks at me and says, “Just watch, he’ll see all the other guys wanting us and be ready to go again in no time. Plus, watching the way you listen to Dave so well was really hot. Maybe it will give Rob some ideas”

For a moment, neither of us looked away.

Dave broke the silence.

“Well, I think we can officially call this a successful tailgate.”

“The concert hasn’t even started,” Rob pointed out.

“Exactly.”

As the opening act began, the parking lot slowly emptied. Groups gathered their belongings and made their way toward the entrance, leaving the four of us enjoying the last few minutes of the warm evening.

The setting sun cast a golden glow across the rows of cars. Music echoed from the venue, and the excitement of the night seemed to hang in the air.

Alana turned toward me.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

“I was nervous about tonight.”

I laughed in surprise.

“You? I was the nervous one! I didn’t know either of you.”

“Well, Rob kept telling me how much Dave talked about you. I figured there was no way you’d be as fun as he made you sound.”

“And?”

She smiled.

“He might have undersold you.”

I felt myself blush again.

Dave laughed from beside me.

“See? I told you she’d fit right in.”

Rob raised his drink.

“To new friends.”

“And unexpected adventures,” Alana added.

We clinked our drinks together.

I looked around at the four of us, thinking about how differently the evening had turned out from what I’d imagined.

Just a few hours earlier, I’d been worried about making conversation with strangers. Now I was sitting beside three people who had made me laugh, blush, and feel more adventurous than I’d expected.

And somehow, the concert we’d been waiting for all summer had become only part of what made the night memorable.

Chapter 1:

Elena gripped the pole sensually. Eyes from all around the room were on her. She loved that feeling. She took a walk around the stage, looking into the hungry eyes of the audience. A man held out a 5 dollar bill. She squatted down on stage and turned around, allowing the man to tuck the bill into the waistband of her thong. The music in the club thumped loudly. The crowd cheered her name. Here she was known as Velvet. She crawled to the other side of the stage. The spotlight followed her movement. A woman leaned up against the railing with a 10-dollar bill. Elena knew she should give this woman a show. She stood and shook her ass right in front of the woman, who cheered in elation at the sight. Elena bent down and took the bill from the woman between her teeth before tucking it into her bra. The song ended, and Elena thanked the crowd while picking up the dollar bills on the stage before going behind the curtain. The announcer’s voice rang out.

 “Give it up for Velvet, everybody. She is available all night if you want something a little more intimate. Catch her on the floor for a private dance”.

 Elena began to walk back to her mirror to freshen up and put the money away so she could hit the floor. That is when Amber, another dancer at the club, came up to her. “Roger wants to see you”, Amber said. Elena hated Amber. She was a snotty bitch who was always trying to steal the show.

“What does he want?” Elena said.

“I have no idea, but you better get back there he sounds pissed,” Amber said.

Elena walked to the back of the club. Roger’s office had a sign that said “Manager” outside. Elena knew this couldn’t be good. Roger had just recently taken over as manager from another club. Bringing a crew of girls from there. Amber was one of those girls. That smug look she had on her face. Elena knew what was about to happen. She opened the door.

“Elena, please sit”, Roger said.

“What is this about?” Elena replied.

“Listen, I was brought on here to help boost the image of the club,” Roger said. “I have been thinking about what that means and I am not sure if you have a home in that new image.”

“This is Amber’s doing, isn’t it?” said Elena. “She has been trying to get me out of here ever since she showed up. She is scared of the competition. She knows my regulars love me, and she is trying to swoop in and take them because she knows they have real money. She knows she isn’t good enough to take them herself, so she wants me gone to make it easier on herself.”

Elena looked across the desk at Roger. His inability to make eye contact in that moment told her everything she needed to know.

Roger looked across the table, looking past Elena rather than at her. “Be that as it may…. I think this just isn’t working out. Tonight is going to be your last night.”

“What the FUCK, Roger,” Elena yelled. “I have worked here for three years. I have made this club more money than anyone before me. I am very good at what I do, and you are going to throw me out like trash?”

Elena stood up, her body hot with anger.

“Fine, be that way then. But don’t come crawling back to me when you start losing out on big business. Marco and Shelly are some of our top spenders, and they come here for me, ME Roger.” Elena began to turn to walk away.

“No hard feelings Elena,” Roger said

“FUCK YOU ROGER,” Elena replied

Elena left the office and went back to the dressing room.  As she began to get dressed, she looked at the other women in the room. A mix of empathetic expressions and sneering smiles coated the faces of the women. Some were her friends. She had spent many nights with them. She had even taught a few of them the ropes. A sinking feeling of defeat began to fill her chest when Amber came around the corner. She had just finished a set and walked up to Elena, a crooked smile on her face.

“We will be so sad to see you go,” Amber said with dry sarcasm in her voice.

Elena looked at Amber. Tears beginning to fill her eyes. This woman had taken her livelihood and she had not a shred of remorse in her soul.

“Bitch” Elena said.

With that, she walked out the back door. Into the alleyway. Not one of the women that she had considered friends for all these years stood up in her defense. She had seen these women as family for so long. They had spent holidays and birthdays together both in the club and out. This was one of the first places where she felt like she was truly home, a part of something.

Elena walked to her car. A modest one for the money that she made. She was practical, but now, out of a job, her life had just been turned upside down. Her savings would only get her so far. There in the parking lot, Elena cried.

After some time, she pulled herself together. Not a woman to be brought down like this. She needed to call her friend Stacy. Nowadays, she was an investment banker at a big firm downtown. Elena had met her a few years ago as one of the dancers in the club. Stacy had mentored Elena and gotten her past some of the scary first steps. Elena really needed a friend. Elena’s thumb hovered over Stacy’s number and pressed down. Stacy picked up on the second ring. Not giving Stacy a moment to say hello,

Elena said, “Wine at my place?”

“I will be there in 15” Stacy said.

Without another word, Elena hung up the phone and drove home.

Outside of her apartment she parked in her spot before walking up the stairs and grabbing a bottle of wine from the cupboard. She uncorked it, before hearing the buzzer for the front door ring. She went over to the box and pressed the button to let Stacy in. Elena grabbed two glasses from the sink and poured herself a generous glass. Stacy walked in shortly after.

“Hey girl” Stacy said with a somberness that the moment needed.

“He fired me, Roger, that piece of shit. Amber told him to do it. You know they are buddy-buddy. She probably sucked his cock to make it happen. She just wanted my money. What I have earned. I put in the hours and shook my ass for the right people to get there and she tore it down.” Elena took a slow sip from her glass before pushing the other one towards stacy.

“It’s going to be ok Elena. You have some money saved up. You are only twenty-four. You can bounce back from this. Stacy walked over to Elena and gave her a hug.

Elena, who hunched over the kitchen island, took one more sip of her wine before looking at Stacy and saying.

“I don’t have that much saved up. I love my place, my life, what if I can’t bounce back. This is all I have known. I didn’t listen when you told me to take those college classes.I was young and dumb and now here I am with no prospects. That club was my home. My people were there and those bitches didn’t stand up for me for one second when Roger kicked me to the door.

“I hate to tell you, Elena, but that is the nature of the beast. I got out when I saw the writing on the wall. I made plans to get out from day one” Stacy said. “But it isn't all lost. I have some friends from my time as a sex worker and I could put in some calls. One in particular pays really well. I could give her a call if you want.”

“Would you really do that for me?” Elena said.

“Of course. I do have to tell you that it is definitely a step up. It is pretty intense. How do you feel about getting tied up?” Stacy looked at Elena and raised an eyebrow.

“What?’ Elena said

“I know this woman, Mistress Lin, she is the real deal. She runs an estate. It is really fancy. Crystal chandeliers and all. She runs a program where men and women sign contracts to work in her house. They live on site and are cared for. Three meals a day and lodging. I think the last time I checked, a year-long contract with her pays something like $100,000. Most of the people who work there maintain the property. But some are the entertainment for her guests. It is real BDSM. No one has ever been hurt or anything, but some of the events get pretty crazy. I have a few friends who spent a year or two there and have used the money to go and get an education or invested it. They are living pretty good lives now. They have told me some people have been there for years.” Stacy looked into the shocked eyes of Elena as she spoke.

“I don’t know” said Elena. “I have tried that stuff before and I like it just fine but that seems kind of intense.”

“Hey I am just throwing out an Idea for you. I know you love the crowd’s eye and you don’t mind getting naked. You have a great body and I am sure they will take you.” Stacy said.

“Do you have her number?” Elena said. Let me think it over and see if I can come up with anything else. I mean it can’t be that bad right?

“Yeah, I have it in my phone. Honestly, she is great. Really funny. I think you will like her.” Stacy scrolled through her phone and texted the contact info to Elena.

Elena’s phone dinged. She looked at the number for a moment and then back at Stacy.

“Thanks girl, I really appreciate you.” Elena said, “Give me a few days to see what is out there and then I might call this Mistress Lin.”

The women spent a few more hours talking about the club and how much Elena hated Amber. After the bottle was finished Stacy picked up her coat and left. Saying goodbye to Elena on the way out. Elena stood there in the apartment she probably couldn’t afford for much longer, thinking about what her next move would be. She started to walk towards her laptop on the living room coffee table, stumbling halfway there briefly from the wine before opening up the laptop and looking at websites for other clubs. As she clicked she realized that Roger either had managed or worked with half the clubs on the list. The other half weren’t hiring. Elena looked down at her phone and the number for Mistress Lin.

“How bad could it be” Elena said to herself.

Chapter 1:

https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/1x57s9v/working_at_the_estate_pt_1_f24_new_job_stripping/

Chapter 2:

https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/1x58ph2/working_at_the_estate_pt_2_f24_job_contract/

Chapter 3:

https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/1x5e4gu/working_at_the_estate_pt_3_f24_bondage_latex/

Chapter 4:

https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/1x5e8x2/working_at_the_estate_pt_4_f24_bondage_submission/

Chapter 5:

https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/1x5eatk/working_at_the_estate_pt_5_f24_bondage_latex/

Nolan finally fucks the girl next door, shortly after finding out she’s not exactly a girl. 

Written for Image 13.

***

You already know how this story starts. It’s a classic.

It’s the last week of October. I’m visiting my parents, helping them move out of my childhood home, as there are no longer any childhoods left for them to home.

It isn’t until the end of the week, as I complete my farewell walk around the old neighborhood, that I see her. Lucy Leeds, the quintessential girl next door. She’s even got one of those alliterative names, like a superhero’s girlfriend in a comic book. I’ve been in love with her since the fourth grade, since her family moved to our sleepy Massachusetts town, into the house at the end of our street, which I had previously thought might sit dark and unoccupied forever.

Now she’s running toward me, a determined look on her face, her thick, dark ponytail swinging behind her. She’s in a second-skin matching set, leggings and a jacket zipped up to the hollow of her throat, the decorative raised seams of the fabric skimming across her chest and up to her neck, down to her hips and around her thighs. My mouth actually waters, which I’m pretty sure a girl has never made me do before.

She isn’t wearing headphones (I don't think she even owns them, or something portable to plug them into, at least) and I try to think of something to say, to catch her attention, to capitalize on what could be the last time we see each other, but my mind goes blank. It’s like I’m right back in high school, trying to ask her out, to confess my adoration, to tell her anything other than how she’s “such a good friend.”

As she approaches, her eyes meet mine and she smiles politely, and I think, well, that’s it, until she does a double take.

“Nolan?” she says, slowing to a stop. “Oh, wow!”

She hugs me, and as my arms wrap around her, I inhale. She smells incredible, the barely there scents of shampoo and laundry detergent resting on top of something sharp, musky, animalistic. As she pulls back, my arms falling from her waist, her hand reaches up and gives the hair on my jawline a heavenly scratch.

“This beard,” she says. “I almost didn’t recognize you!”

I smile sheepishly. “Does it look stupid?” I’ve had it for three years, but I’m not attached to it.

“No,” she says, smiling in a way that sends pressure to the fly of my jeans. “I like it,” she adds, which doesn’t help.

We spend a moment in semi-awkward silence. It’s not entirely that we haven’t seen each other since high school, but the opportunities were few and far between. She’s not on social media, and she has a cell phone, but it’s the kind that makes calls and texts and not much else. Her whole family is kind of old-fashioned like that. Not exactly in an uptight, fundamentalist sort of way, just a bit out of time.

“I’m so glad I ran into you,” she says. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Tonight?” I repeat, like an idiot. “It’s Halloween,” I add, a non-answer, also idiotic.

“Yes,” she agrees, teasing me a little. “My parents are going to this fancy party over in French Hill, and I’m staying home to take Ella trick-or-treating.” She gives me that smile again. “You should come over. We can catch up. Unless you already have a more interesting Halloween planned?”

“No,” I say, a little too quickly. “I’ll be there.”

***

When I knock on her door that evening, she answers instantly, and I don’t have time to recompose myself. As she lets me inside, an odd feeling settles over me, something sort of paralyzing. Nerves, maybe, or the strange sort of déjà vu of being around her, in her house, in a space I once knew so well and haven’t seen in years.

“Did you find the place okay?” she asks with a grin.

“Yeah,” I say, my voice cracking slightly, like it’s the first thing I’ve said all day. “Traffic was terrible, though.”

She laughs, generously. I can’t stop staring at her. She looks so beautiful, a different beautiful than she was that morning, a different beautiful than in my memories, and I feel spoiled by the abundance. I feel like an uncontrollably horny teen, like my body has a mind of its own. I don’t think she made me feel this insane when we were actually teenagers.

Ella runs in from the kitchen and throws her arms around her sister’s waist.

“Don’t be rude,” Lucy says. “You remember Nolan. Say hi.”

“Hi, Nolan,” Ella says quietly.

“Where’s your costume?” I ask, smiling down at her, relieved to be joined by our buffer.

She blushes, turning her face into Lucy’s side.

“Ella’s decided that, now that she’s eleven, she’s too grown up to go trick-or-treating,” Lucy says. “She wants to stay home and give out candy instead.”

“Okay,” I say, smiling down at Ella again, her head turned to look at me with one eye. “But you should still wear your costume. Lucy and I look too boring in our normal human clothes.”

Lucy, for the record, does not look remotely boring. She’s killing me in a pleated skirt and knee socks, like we’re back in high school and she has field hockey practice later. I imagine my hand on her thigh underneath the skirt, her soft, warm skin, the heat between her legs.

She catches me staring and smiles. “Yes, Ella,” she says. “Let Nolan see your costume.”

Ella obediently runs up the stairs and Lucy takes a step toward me. She places her hand on my arm and I feel it in my whole body.

“Thanks for coming over and helping me out.”

I swallow so I don’t choke on my own spit. “Yeah, for sure.”

“Just so you know, though, we’re not splitting the babysitting money,” she says. “I’m still a starving college girl, after all.”

Upstairs, Ella puts all seventy pounds of her weight into each footstep as she thunders out of her bedroom and down the hall.

Lucy’s hand drops as she turns toward Ella, who is rounding the top of the stairs. “Slow down,” she warns, her tone sending another undesirable pulse to my dick.

I watch Ella walk delicately down each step, which proves to be an extremely effective distraction, because her costume is incomprehensible. She’s wearing a full-body silver leotard, crab claws on her hands, and a big red hat with white spots, like a cartoon mushroom cap.

“And you are… a mushroom crab?” I look to Lucy for some kind of hint. “A magic, shiny mushroom crab?”

“She couldn’t decide,” Lucy tells me.

“Between a mushroom and a crab?”

“And an alien.”

“So, a mushroom-crab-alien, then.”

At the foot of the stairs, Ella lifts her arms and pinches her crab claw hands, letting out a piercing shriek. It probably is better that we aren’t going out.

***

We sit out on the porch until dusk, catching up in between trick-or-treaters and Ella’s interjections. Lucy tells me about school, that she’s starting her first surgery rotation in the spring, and I tell her about my boring job, my last relationship. She complains about the other guys in med school, their egos and attitudes, how there aren’t any good ones like me, a refrain that has, historically, never worked out in my favor.

Afterwards, Ella picks out two VHS tapes to watch—I told you, the Leeds are old school, like, ancient—but the sugar crash knocks her out twenty minutes into the first one. Lucy and I continue to talk quietly over the movie, Ella’s mushroom head resting in her lap. When the movie ends, I carry Ella up to her bedroom and Lucy tucks her into bed, gently removing her crab claws.

On the other side of Ella’s bedroom door, Lucy grabs my hand, pulling me down the hallway, toward her bedroom. On the other side of Lucy’s bedroom door, she looks up at me, a look on her face I’d always hoped to see, that I sometimes deluded myself into thinking I saw back when I was still too green to confidently recognize it. It’s a look that says she wants me to kiss her, so I do. It's immediately heady, earth-shattering, the feeling of my lips on hers. The evening, the day, the week, and the last two decades spent in wait fuse in a single instant, crashing into each other, into me.

The kiss begins innocently enough but quickly mutates, growing tongues, arms, hands, legs, and we begin to stutter step, our bodies recognizing a need for a supportive surface. She severs us, slipping her hand out from underneath my sweater, letting my hand fall from her ass.

“Sit,” she instructs me, with a look toward her bed. She goes over to her record player, a fixture of her room since we were kids, and picks out an album. I kick off my shoes and sit down on her bed as the first song starts up, something slow and psychedelic, the tremolo of an electric guitar vibrating behind the vocalist’s opening sigh.

She turns around to face me but doesn’t quite meet my eyes, staring vacantly at a spot somewhere to the right of my head, her face going slack, her lips parted. She gives her neck a few small, slow, stiff stretches, and I’m pretty sure I hear a pop or two. I almost expect her to unhinge her jaw next. Instead she gives her head a small shake, smiling at me, her face familiar once more. She climbs onto the bed, straddling my lap, her mouth meeting mine, and the weirdness from the moment before is quickly and easily forgotten.

I have that thought, as you sometimes do in these situations, that this is really all I need. Kissing Lucy, just kissing her, forever. Touching her over her clothes, under her skirt, feeling her move against me. It's another echo from high school, when making out was an endurance sport. Then a contented little hum buzzes from her mouth and runs straight to my dick, reminding me that I do want more, so much more.

My hands grip her hips, pulling her against me, more firmly against the ridge in my jeans. She breaks the kiss and inhales sharply, her head falling back, her back arching. I assume I’ve hit a sensitive spot, but then she bends so far back that I can’t see past the rise of her chest. She moans, but it sounds more painful than pleasurable, dissolving into a weird gargling sound.

“Lucy?”

“Yes,” she replies, her voice strange.

My hands slide up to her waist, her back, willing her spine to straighten out, and it does. Her head lifts and dips toward me, only it’s not her head, it’s some kind of mask.

It only takes a few seconds (and, even so, those few seconds are pure delusion) to realize it’s not some kind of mask. It looks almost as though the skin has been peeled from her skull, and her skull has been replaced with that of a… horse? A velociraptor? A xenomorph? I don’t fucking know. My breathing and heart rate, which were already accelerated, start to resonate in a different key.

She sits back on my thighs and my hands slide back to her hips. Even presented with this new information, even as her mouth opens to reveal rows of enormous, incredibly sharp teeth, I can’t quite let go of her.

“This doesn’t freak you out, does it?”

Somehow, what freaks me out the most is that her mouth doesn’t move at all when she speaks. Which is a good thing, because I’m pretty sure her teeth would have taken my nose off, at the very least.

I stare into her mouth, static and stretched open, hot and damp, emitting a scent that my blessedly unscathed nose logs somewhere between my dog’s breath and the worst morning breath I’ve ever woken up next to, which is to say: not a complete dealbreaker.

I clear my throat. “Nah,” I say, trying to remain casual. Her tongue is… not now, Nolan. Stay sharp. Like all of those—

“I’m really sorry,” she says, her mouth still not moving. “I didn’t want you to see me like this.” Her voice is vibrating in her throat, like whatever this thing is that’s sitting on my lap has actually swallowed Lucy whole and she’s speaking to me through it.

“It’s just because I haven’t fed in a while,” she adds. A drop of saliva rolls down one of her teeth and lands on my cheek.

Don’t ask. Don’t fucking ask. Just get up. Leave. Drive back to your apartment two entire states away and jerk off. Don’t. Ask.

“And what is… uh, what do you feed on?”

“Well, um, normal food, obviously,” she says. “It’s fine. Hardly tastes like anything.” Her voice is clearer now, like a signal being tuned in, like she’s speaking directly into my brain.

“Animals are better, especially fresh,” she continues. “But, now, as an adult, I find that nothing fills me up quite like…” I can’t see her blushing, but I can still hear it. “Someone else’s excitement. Like… sexually.”

Oh. Not a problem. I think.

“So,” I say, clearing my throat again, “just so I understand, ‘feeding,’ is that when you… come, or…?”

“It’s your excitement, Nolan,” she says, sliding closer to me. “How much you want me. That’s why… sorry, I just couldn’t help myself. I almost mounted you in the street this morning. I rerouted my run because I could smell you from two blocks away.”

She rolls her hips against mine and I groan. She closes her mouth and brings her head—nose?—closer, into my neck.

“But I knew it would be so much better if I made you wait,” she says, continuing to grind against me. Her words are softer now, as though she were somehow whispering in both of my ears. “If I finally let you come back here, back to me, to my bedroom, like I know you wanted to when we were younger.”

I groan again, much louder than I’d like. “Fuck, Lucy.”

“You know, in high school, I used to leave my window open every night for you,” she says. “I would think about you, in your bed, just up the street, how I wished you would come here and climb up the trellis and through the window like you did when we were kids.”

“Fuck,” I repeat, this time cursing my own stupidity, my hands tightening on her hips.

To call the moment surreal would be severely underselling it. Lucy’s new form alone would have been surreal; her confessed desire alone would have been surreal. To experience both simultaneously is maddening, and I can’t figure out which of the two concepts is more difficult to grasp. My brain is so overwhelmed with the task of comprehension that it seems like it might short circuit, so I focus instead on my body, and how much it still wants Lucy’s body.

“Would you fuck me, Nolan? Please?”

As the part of my brain responsible for language processing was likely sunsetting, I let my mouth respond non-verbally, finding her neck, now corded with extra columns of muscle. I kiss and suck along the new ridges and valleys, her sweet, appreciative little sounds reverberating in the post-avalanche quiet of my brain. I move a hand under her skirt, between her legs, and just one press of my fingertips against the cotton tells me how wet she is underneath. A sound comes out of me that defies description, and I move both hands under her ass, lifting her off my lap.

I rise up on my knees and she does the same. She tugs on her top layers, untucking them as I remove her belt. I hesitate to lift her shirt just long enough for her to do it for me, her chin-head pointing straight up, mouth closed. I’m surprised that her head actually seems quite narrow from this angle, not much wider than a human head would be, and so her top comes off easily. She’s wearing a plain, modest sports bra underneath, which is somehow sexier than anything else I could have imagined, and that comes off, too. So does my sweater, and then my shirt.

I look at her, Lucy, now topless, and also headless, in a way. She sits and leans back on her elbows, her head tucked into her chest. Her eyes move down my torso, as though she’s appraising me, and maybe she is. My body has changed since the last time she saw me without a shirt, nearly a decade ago, on some beach day or Saturday morning spent mowing the lawn.

The moment is strangely intimate, by which I mean it is both intimate, as it should be, and strange, as it only could be given the new shape of Lucy’s face, her unfamiliar and beady eyes. But somehow it still feels right, like I really am looking into Lucy’s eyes, like I understand it’s still her.

I realize then that I had it all wrong. It isn’t that Lucy is suddenly unknown to me, something new, something alien and scary. She’s the same Lucy I’ve always known, only I’m learning there’s so much I hadn’t ever known about her. I’ve always wanted more of her, and now I have it.

As much as I’m dying (and that choice of words has never felt more literal) to fuck her, what I really need is to taste her. I lift her legs, taking her sneakers off but leaving the socks on, and I reach underneath her skirt for her underwear, which I also remove. I push her skirt up around her ribs and get close. I can smell her, I can see how wet she is, and I feel drunk.

I bring a finger to her clit and her hips lift, trying to push even this tiny point of her body into mine. I run my thumb along the length of her, through her hair slicked with arousal. I bring my thumb to my mouth and lick it, and then I lick her. I take my time, and it’s for her as much as it is for me. I want to know everything about her, I want to know what every part of her smells and tastes and looks like, what it responds to, what sounds she makes.

When I add my fingers, she actually starts to mumble, little incoherent syllables I can’t make out, though the sound is still clear in my head. Her voice is low, monotonous, hitting the occasional harsh consonant sound.

Something slithers by me and I pull back. It’s her tongue, I realize, her newly thick, wide, huge tongue, now stretched long and thin like a piece of taffy, so much so that by the time it wiggles inside my pants and wraps around my dick it’s almost tendril-like, hot and wet, pumping and squeezing me.

My head dips forward again, into her, because I no longer have the strength to keep it aloft. “Lucy,” I moan against her lips, her only lips. “You can’t… I’m not…”

Just like that, her tongue withdrawals, snapping back into her mouth.

“Then fuck me, Nolan, please,” she says. “I need it.”

I sit back and she wiggles out of her skirt before flipping onto her stomach, rising on her hands and knees and presenting herself to me. I run my hands over her thighs, her ass, the small of her back, between her legs. For a moment I’m tempted to return my mouth and fingers to her instead, to finish what I’ve started, to leave no stone unturned.

“Please,” she says again, with a resonance in my head like a bell ringing. It slides down my spine and into my dick, which is begging to be released, so I oblige. I slide it against her, underneath her, and she sinks to her elbows to change the angle, to encourage me inside, but I resist.

“Nolan,” she whines, and it would almost be worth teasing her forever to hear her say my name like that, over and over again. Almost.

“Lucy,” I say, surprisingly collected despite, well, all of it, really. “Do you have a condom?”

“No,” she says, and it sounds more like a command, a dismissal, than an answer to my question. “You don’t need one.”

There’s no time or desire to consider this information further than I absolutely have to. I press into her, a few slight, slow, shallow thrusts, just to spread around what I haven’t already lapped up, and then, gradually, I sink inside her. Her low cry resounds in my brain and nearly seems to vibrate from my own vocal chords, or maybe harmonizes with a cry of my own. She’s opening around me and pressing against me at the same time, so hot and wet and tight and soft and everything, everything, quite literally unbelievable, it’s all I can do not to collapse on top of her.

I grip her waist tightly, holding myself still inside her, steadying myself. She begins to roll her hips impatiently, trying to move against me, which helps give me the slight shift in focus I need to avoid coming instantly, to concentrate instead on what she needs from me.

I hold on to her hip as I begin to slide in and out of her, dialing in the right cadence. Watching my dick move inside her, the way she seems to pull it back in as much as I’m pushing it, is too much, and I move my gaze to her back. My other hand wants to reach for her hair, but I’m afraid of what might happen if I give it a tug. Instead, I find her clit again and feel her sink into her shoulders.

She starts to mumble again, the same droning chant in my brain as before, now echoing like a chorus. There’s a rhythm to it, I realize, a rhythm matched by Lucy’s pussy, pulsing around me like the backing drum beat. The chant climbs steadily, reaching a frenzied pitch, louder and larger in my brain. I chase it, fucking Lucy feverishly, every part of me threatening to spin out of control. She cries out, slicing through the noise in my brain, and I feel her clench harder around me.

“Fuck,” I gasp, “Lucy, I—”

“Yes, Nolan,” she says, her voice in my head calm and even. “Fill me with the hot seed of your desire.”

It falls on the weirder side of things women have said to me while fucking, but far from the weirder side of this particular fuck.

Anyway, I do as I’m told. As I empty myself into her, holding on to her, I can still feel her trying to pull me in. It’s like nothing I’ve felt before. At some point, it's like I’m no longer coming inside her and instead she’s drawing it out of me, even when I can feel I’ve finished. I try to pull out, sensitivity gnawing at me, but I encounter much more resistance than I expect.

“Wait,” she says, and what else am I supposed to do, even though she’s literally pulling me past sensitivity into something else, something that organizes my shaky limbs into a sensation that hums through my entire body, and I can’t tell if I’m about to come again or if I’ve actually been coming this whole time, but I do know I’ve never come this hard in my life. My body feels wrecked, far beyond the point of failure, and I’m trembling, my eyes watering.

Then she says, "okay," and my dick slides out of her, clean and nearly dry. To my surprise, she’s somehow missed a spot, and a little bit dribbles out of her. It doesn’t get far, however.

I have a thought, watching my cum disappear back inside of her, that this image may be what finally causes the elastic band of my mind to snap. Paradoxically, my ability to have that thought may be what preserves its elasticity. Either way, I need a minute to recover. I lie back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. My mind feels wiped clean again, this time pleasantly emptied rather than overcome and whited out.

I feel the bed shift as she comes closer to me. “Thank you,” she says, which is strange but endearing, and oddly a parallel to my own feelings. Her words form outside of my brain this time, and I turn my head to find that hers has returned to normal. Well, maybe not normal for her, but the human Lucy shape I’m accustomed to.

I wrap my arm around her, holding her close. She rubs my chest with her hand, and it doesn’t take long before I can feel a shift in her touch, her hand moving with new intention, a new tempo and pressure, her body stirring next to mine, her legs shifting on top of each other.

“Lucy,” I croak. “You’re gonna have to give me a few minutes.”

“Okay,” she sighs, nuzzling against me. She lets out a quiet little laugh.

“What?” I ask with a laugh of my own, only a little bit self-conscious.

“Do you remember the time you climbed up here,” she asks, “when you fell and broke your arm?”

“Yeah.”

“I was so worried you’d never do it again after that,” she says, and I feel something tighten in my chest. “I thought you might be too afraid. But you weren’t.”

Truthfully, I had been afraid, but I couldn’t let it keep me from her. The day the cast came off, I slipped out our back door and ran to her house. It had been frightening, approaching that section of the trellis, remembering the fall, the pain. Then I kept climbing, and it was like nothing bad had ever happened or ever would again, because I had made it to the top, because I was with her.

“Lucy?” a small voice calls from the other side of the door. “I’m hungry.”

“Shit,” Lucy whispers, just loud enough for me to hear. I reluctantly lift my arm so she can get out of bed. “I guess she did only have candy for dinner.”

“Some babysitter you are.”

She picks my shirt up off the floor and throws it at my face. “Okay pickle,” she calls to Ella. “Hold on, I’ll be right out.”

She picks up my sweater next, pulling it over her head, and I start to think I might not need a few minutes. She pulls on her leggings from this morning and goes to the door, opening it to reveal Ella, still in her leotard. The mushroom hat is gone. So is Ella’s head, replaced by a smaller version of the one I saw on Lucy not five minutes ago.

“Let’s get you fed,” Lucy says. As she closes the door behind her, she asks Ella what she wants to eat. I can’t hear her very clearly, but Ella's response sounds suspiciously close to “squirrel.”

I rise from the bed and walk over to Lucy’s window, looking out at the back yard, edged by the pine barrens, like every other house on our street. A moment later, the sisters emerge. I watch as they walk hand-in-hand across the grass, toward the soft edge of the light spilling out from the house, and disappear into the trees.