costumes

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” she growled to him. Her hands slid down the bodice of costume, her fingertips gliding against the smooth black and yellow leather criss-crossing her torso. The soft mesh and obviously see-through material beneath it rubbed against her soft skin and she groaned as it did so across her thick nipples. They both watched her hands travel along her curves, smoothing out the material and adjusting it so that the leather framed her breasts perfectly. The design was impeccable and the tailor did an amazing job, working with them both to ensure the fit and to satisfy both of their wants and needs. Hers were simple: to show off her figure and not to dig into her skin as she’d be wearing it for several hours. His, much more elaborate. He required that it tied like a corset in the back. He insisted on garters to hold up the honeycomb-designed black stockings that adorned her legs. He specified that the material beneath the leather be soft against her skin and sheer enough to see her nipples where the leather parted perfectly. Even in public, he wanted access to them.



The final item he requested was firmly in his hand. Her eyes glanced down the mirror as they stood before it, his fingers flexing and turning it slowly. She still hadn’t seen it properly, which was his intention. Her reactions of anger, embarrassment, protest and finally stubborn acceptance that the subject wasn’t up for discussion made him realize that its visual presence would only heighten the nerves that had been building up about it for the past month. She had mentioned one night how fun it would be to have a Halloween party at the club he owned and turn it into a benefit for one of the local charities. He agreed wholeheartedly, knowing full well it would be both a financial and social success, given the clientele who frequented the club. It had a reputation of catering to a more deviant crowd but was welcoming to patrons of any persuasion, as long as they came with open minds and caused no problems. Tonight, however, was specifically for the D/s crowd. And the day that part of her costume was decided was a day neither of them would forget.



When they decided to go with a bee theme a couple of months ago, the name of the club changed to The Hive, temporarily. She joked that she was the queen bee for the night. He chuckled at first but the comment sent his mind racing. Within the hour, decisions regarding their personas, “benefits” available to club members, and which charity would benefit were made. He actually agreed to her being “Queen Bea” for the night and he would, of course, be the Keeper. They decided to go with complete name changes, only answering to “Bea” and “Keeper”. The men and women they employed would be dressed as drones and worker bees, respectively, ready to serve in any way needed. They figured out pricing for all levels of membership, including increasing the amount for the few private rooms they had for those needing more intimate, and less publicly legal, experiences. With help from the club manager, everything was finalized in a matter of days, including all the advertising.



Then, when they were discussing their costumes, he mentioned one item she hadn’t thought of: her stinger. How not only would it be custom made, but it would also have two very specific uses. One, it could be use as a punisher, a short whipping rod that would easily mark up skin beautifully, but do little harm. She grinned at this, which faded quickly as he informed her of its other use. As a plug, in her ass, designed not to slip and not to harm her considering she’d be wearing it all night long.



Knowing better, but not caring, she went off on him. He sat back in his chair, arms crossed, watching and listening to her every word intently. They did not have a relationship that was only dictated by what he desired, though hers often matched his, one of many reasons they worked so well together. This time, it was clear that was not the case. Her protests were numerous. He watched as she paced a short distance back and forth, her voice clear but somewhat shaky as she told him each one. That it was pure and simple public humiliation, something neither of them were into. That wearing it would deride her position as the co-owner of the club, with both the employees and the members. If she would have looked at him at this point, she would have seen the flash of irritance the skated across his face for a moment. She continued on instead. That she’d never be able to wear it for 8+ hours without it harming her in some way. That it would slip out, that someone would get drunk and try and pull it, on and on until finally, he put up his hand and softly told her he’d heard enough. To be honest, all that she said was almost enough to make him consider giving her an option to refuse.



Instead, he gestured her closer, so that she was right in front of him. He held back the smirk that threatened to curl his lips as she did so, her arms crossed now in utter defiance. Her dark eyes glistened, betraying that stubbornness just a bit. His head tilted slightly and he watched her for a moment more, choosing his words carefully before he spoke.



“You’re right, my dear. All of those things could happen and to a degree, this is humiliation. And I made a promise to you not to ever do so in public. But I wonder why, after all this time, you would believe that you couldn’t handle this, if I believe you can. Why you would believe that I would allow others to put you down. Why you wouldn’t think that I would have thought out every single aspect of this before I even mentioned it to you. It seems to me that you are forgetting your place with me. Yes, you are the co-owner of the club. But you seem to believe ours is a democratic relationship, which it is not. You pledged your submission to me. I have earned your trust and in doing so, it is expected of me that I will guide you as I see fit. For both of us. We are not discussing this further. You will be wearing the stinger as a plug. Is that clear?”



The realization of what she had done hit her quickly. Her arms unlocked as she nodded, replying to him with a strong, “Yes, Sir.” Her hands crossed at the wrists behind her back, her legs eased open just a little more, while her head tipped down just slightly, her eyes still locked on his. There was nothing she could do to stop the couple of tears skimming down her cheeks and she didn’t care. She felt humiliated, brought on by her own insolence. She gasped, the touch of his hand against her thigh under her skirt surprising her. She hadn’t even seen him move.



“If the idea is so reprehensible to you, then why is your cunt soaked?” He yanked down her damp panties to her mid-thighs and worked three fingers into hot tight wet entrance. Her hips pushed forward and he growled at her, “Stay still, slut.” She complied immediately and was rewarded by a rough shove of his fingers, making her take them all at once. Her teeth dug into her lower lip, her tight cunt twitching around his thick fingers, squeezing hard each time the tips dragged over that sweet spot inside her. His free hand shoved her short skirt up higher, revealing all her bare flesh to him. For a good five minutes, they watched each other as he fucked her pussy, keeping away from her distended swollen clit. His eyes dropped to watch it and his glistening fingers and he started to undo his belt. She groaned at the sound of it being pulled from his jeans, convinced he’d be undoing those next. But she was wrong.



“I bet you already need to cum, don’t you cunt,” he growled at her. She nodded quickly then growled back as his fingers immediately pulled from her with loud wet slurp. His eyes narrowed as he pushed forward a bit in his chair, licking his fingers one by one. “Too bad. Over my lap. Now.”



She blinked and in that moment, he gripped her left arm and pulled her down right over him. “How much will you revert tonight? Do you need refreshers in all your training? Apparently I have been remiss in keeping up with reminders of your place with me!” Thankfully she remembered to spread her thighs as wide as he required, so wide her muscles protested immediately. He gripped one hand into her thick black hair and the other took up his belt. No warning, the punishment started.



The doubled belt packed quite a wallop. Within just a few strikes to her exposed ass and thighs, she started yelping with each one. It didn’t take long to cover every part of each cheek with thick red stripes. But he needed to continue. Down her thighs the whipping continued, until the belt designed her flesh to the back of her knees. She lay sobbing over his lap, her back still arched as he held tight to her hair. Still not convinced, he changed the angle of the belt and landed three hard strikes to her literally dripping wet pussy. The first two brought renewed enthusiasm to her screams and his cock throbbed from the sound. The last one landed the hardest, the tip of the belt whipping across her clit. Her body surged in his lap, the stinging pain on that most sensitive part of her body ripping through her and turning into the dark pleasure she craved from him. She pushed her ass up so that her pussy didn’t touch anything, afraid if it did, she’d cum immediately.



He knew it too. While she writhed in his lap, he took a deep breath and dropped the belt, slowly turning her in his lap, her back against his front, her reddened flesh meeting his jeans. She jerked at the initial contact but stilled herself, not wanting to rub into the material. His hand stayed in her hair and pulled her head back to kiss her hard. His cock was hard, unyielding against her backside and he ground it into her, loving the noises she made for him. His free hand yanked at her blouse, the buttons popping off as the material ripped. She winced at the pull of the blouse against her body before it fell away. He growled against her lips to lose the bra and she did so quickly. Her skirt remained hiked up around her waist and she moved to take it off, somehow, but he shook his head.



His hand tugged her head, to expose her neck and he went for it. His teeth dug in, making her cry out, which she did again as he started to slap her tits. He kept grinding into her punished backside and thighs and the mix of sensations quickly started to overwhelm her. Her hands gripped into his forearms, as she rode his lap, bouncing between it and his hand landing over and over on her tits. Soon, the color of them matched her ass and thighs and he went to work on her nipples. His nails dug in, the pressure making her twist in pain as he yanked them. She screeched out an apology and followed it up with a plea that he fuck her. He chuckled in her year, murmuring, “Oh don’t worry beautiful, I plan on it.”



And he did. Over the next several hours, he fucked her several times, in her mouth, her pussy, her ass, even her hands. In between he meted out more punishment. There was barely any part of her that wasn’t used in some way, even the bottoms of her feet. He had forgotten how it felt to fuck her spread cunt after he punished it with the cat o’ nine, especially while holding tight to the chain that linked her clamped nipples and clit. By the time he finished, he had cum three times and she was a dripping sweaty mess. Her voice was hoarse and her skin ached just from the air moving it. She was also left wanting, as he did not allow her to cum once. Instead, she rode the edge the entire time, pushed harder than he ever had and as he withdrew from her fucked open sore ass after dumping his load into her the last time, he told her she could cum. In three days. He enlisted help from one of the male switches at the club, to ensure she was edged every hour on the hour. Rich was eager to help out, for many reasons, not the least of which included his desire to fuck Bea silly. And he did so many times over his three day stay, culminating in a multi-hour fuckfest with Bea and her Keeper, though Rich received no sexual attention from him, nor expected any. He did come away with a new respect for both of them, her for her utter submission to him and him for the knowledge he imparted to Rich. He also could not believe how hard, how often, and how wet she came, once she was finally allowed. At the end of it all, Keeper even promoted him at the club, padded his wallet a bit, and sent him home on shaky legs.



Now, finally, the night had arrived. Keeper chuckled at her while he inspected her outfit and tugged a bit tighter on the ties of the corset. “You can’t believe it? Perhaps you need a reminder?”



She burst out laughing and mimed pushing him away from her. “No, Sir, no way, I do not need a reminder at all. But please, let me see it already!” He smirked at her and swished the exposed tail in the air a few times before spinning her around to face him. Her eyes dropped to the stinger in his hand and she groaned, her eyes wide, trying to take it all in. It was by far the biggest plug she’d ever worn. Her fingertips pressed along it, feeling the ridges of the plug, pausing at the biggest flare, the one that would ensure it wouldn’t slip at all. She bit her lip and moaned a bit. Her fingers continued down, running the length of the nearly foot long stinger then lifted it up. She was surprised at how light it was then realized that weight would only make it more difficult on her. A soft slow grin adorned her face and she leapt into his arms, hugging him close.



“Thank you,” she murmured in his ear.



He grinned at her, “Don’t thank me yet, we still need to get it in you. And I have the perfect way to do that.” His mouth dropped to hers and kissed her hard, until she moaned from the intensity of it. He tugged her lip with his teeth when he pulled away, moving to the door and gesturing at someone.



“Miranda, find Rich and get in here. We need your help with something.” He turned to find Bea frowning at him slightly. His brow raised, daring and chastising her at once for whatever was about to leave her lips. Her mouth closed quickly and he nodded, stepping aside to let in their employees.



Rich grinned at her as he made his way in, coming over to kiss her cheek and marvel at her costume. Miranda did the same, though with a bit less enthusiasm, a bit jealous her own bee costume was not as elaborate. Keeper stood with a widened stance and watched them all for a moment. “Our guests will be here soon so let’s get moving. Rich, Miranda, the last of Bea’s costume needs to be put on. She’s holding it in her hands. It’s going in her ass but it will take some work to get it in there. You’re both here to help prep her for it.” He glanced at Bea and smiled a bit, seeing the flush spread across her face.



“She’s nervous about wearing it all night long. As you are both managers, I’m hoping you’ll do your best to help one of your bosses be as comfortable as possible tonight.” Both nodded swiftly to him, and he nodded back, all while holding Bea’s gaze. “Good. Then Rich? Please guide Bea over the arm of the couch and get her ass nice and wet. Miranda, come here. Get my cock nice and wet.”



Rich and Miranda stood in stunned silence for a moment, before Rich took action. With a firm grip to Bea’s wrist, he pulled her over the couch and watched as her bare ass came into view beneath the black and yellow tutu that completed her outfit. He let out a soft groan at the site of her: round firm cheeks spread open a bit, her heeled feet holding firm to the floor in a wide stance, her hands reaching back to press to her ass, easing it open, urging him to begin. He dropped to his knees behind her and immediately started, his tongue driving right into her tight backside. Keeper stood to the side of them, watching Bea’s face as Rich devoured her ass, kissing licking nibbling at it. Miranda took to the floor in front of Keeper and had his leathers open in no time. His hand fisted into her blonde hair and his cock pushed into her open mouth, forcing her to take his thick hard length quickly. Bea smirked as she heard her gag loudly; there was no love lost between the two women. They respected each others’ positions in the club and actually worked rather well together. Miranda had made it known a few years ago she didn’t think Bea deserved Keeper and instead he should be with her. Keeper’s eyes darkened as his cock dropped down her spasming throat, holding it there until the last moment before he allowed her to breathe.



Within just a few minutes, both Bea and Keeper were panting, the scent of their desire filling the room. Rich tugged at his erection pushing against his tight leathers, wanting desperately to release it but not daring to until Keeper said to. Miranda was almost frantic from the hard mouth fucking Keeper was administering and finally he pushed her off, his fist taking the place of her wet mouth. “Bea, over here now,” he commanded as he dropped into his chair. Rich held out his hand to Bea to help her up and over the few feet to Keeper. He sat back on his heels, only to get up quickly as Keeper gestured him over. “Ass on my cock, right the fuck now Bea,” he growled at her. She growled back at him, glancing just for a moment at the stunned Miranda, who stood wide-eyed and seething that she was being left out. Keeper’s hands pushed to Bea’s waist as she eased down and gripped tight, letting her be the one to decide how fast she’d take him in. His thick head slid in, the path slickened by Rich’s tongue. She gasped and groaned the entire way down his length, whimpering as her cheeks met his body. “Fuck,” Keeper grunted, as he did every single time she took him deep into her tight ass. Her body in constant motion, wriggling on top of him, he smelled her wetness emanating from her spread pussy. “Rich, your mouth on her now. She cums when I cum, not a moment before.”



Rich pushed forward, his hands pushing to her thighs, his tongue lapping up her slit to roll over her swollen twitching clit. The mere action made her cry out, “Need to fuck, now, I need to fuck your cock!” Keeper growled his assent and his hands tightened on his waist, helping her ease up and down and take his entire length every time she dropped. He wished he’d thought to do this before she got dressed so he could access her tits but chuckled at himself, realizing he wouldn’t last much longer. Rich’s tongue was working Bea into a frenzy and he swore he could feel her cunt twitching along his cock through her ass. He grunted in effort and started thrusting harder, faster, taking control of her ride. Rich latched onto her clit with his pursed lips and tormented her clit, as he had learned to do expertly over the three days he spent with them. She screamed out, begging him to cum and he agreed, almost immediately, signalling her own allowed orgasm.



Miranda stood in awe, no longer angry, but completely drenched and in need. She knew better, though, than to even touch herself in Keeper’s presence, right at this moment. She shifted from one heel to the other, watching the pair convulse together, moaning under her breath as she watched Bea’s hand grip into Rich’s hair to keep his mouth in place as she rolled into multiple orgasms, utterly soaking his face. She shook her head a bit, hearing Keeper call her name.



“Miranda! Snap out of it. Go to the desk and get the lube. Drench that plug and bring it over here.” Her eyes narrowed for a moment, believing he meant to give her permission to plug her up for the night. She quickly complied though, completing her task and standing at attention while the three disentangled themselves. Keeper guided Bea into the chair, onto all fours with her ass pushing up into the air. Miranda bit her lip at the site of her ass: deep pink, cum smeared, straining to close. She stepped forward but stopped as she felt Keeper’s hand on her shoulder.



“I don’t think so,” he frowned at her, taking the stinger from her hands. He guided it right towards Bea’s cum-filled ass and slid it in, the final inch eliciting a loud cry from Bea, both from the size of it and the pressure in her freshly fucked ass. Rich rubbed a soothing hand over her cheeks, whispering to her as Keeper took Miranda aside. “Keep up the attitude Miranda and you’ll be out of the best job you’ve ever had. She’s here to stay and the sooner you truly respect that decision, the better it will be for all of us. Got it?” She nodded quickly, her arms crossing in front of her. Keeper sighed gently, “I don’t think you do. Rich, come here, I’ll take care of Bea. Miranda, lick Rich’s face clean. Every single motherfucking drop. And when you’re done, don’t drink a damn thing for an hour. And you will not cum tonight until I give you permission. If you will not comply, pack your things and go. I’m done.” He turned away and turned to Rich, whispering in his ear before he left Rich and Miranda on their own. He didn’t watch as she started to lap at Rich’s wet face, knowing she’d have left by now if she wasn’t going to. His attention was now all his Bea, who remained in the chair.

Happy fucking Halloween.



That was his thought as the alarm bell clanged this cold autumn morning. A costume, where the hell was he going to find a costume on Halloween day. The memo from the office booster club arrived in his inbox at exactly 5:55 pm last night. It was a lucky thing he even saw it. What the hell were they thinking springing a costume day at work on such short notice. Mandatory, imagine that, a prestigious law firm and they wanted the office dressed as clowns.



There had better be a big fat treat at the end of the day, and it better come in the form of cash. He showered and considered going in naked, costumed in his birthday suit. That would be enough to send the prudish secretaries running for cover, and would certainly cause more than one sexual harassment suit. Would serve them right, a costume on such short notice was enough for a mental harassment suit on his part.



Grumbling over his usual breakfast of a protein shake and a banana, he was dressed in his birthday suit, naked as a jay bird and he should just stay this way. Hang a sign around his neck…NUDIST! Deal with it!



Rinsing his glass and tossing the banana peel, he headed to his bedroom. Rifling his closet, did he actually own anything other then suits, shirts and ties? Inspiration struck, there at the very back of his closet hung a foreign item. The dress he had bought for that no good ex-girlfriend. But could he squeeze into it? Worth a shot I suppose.



He felt his smooth face, freshly shaved and started to smile. He grabbed the dress and slipped it over his head. Hmmmmmmm, not bad, but I need titties. He checked the drawer, the one he had reserved for her things and to his surprise found a bra, panties and stockings, luckily dark stockings, if no one inspected too closely they might not notice his hairy legs.



He pulled the dress on and wrapped the bra around his chest. Why did women wear these things, comfort was definitely not a design demand. Now to find boobs! His girlfriend was rather modest chested, so no need for watermelons. But, a couple of balloons, filled with water and wrapped in socks might just work. He constructed himself some titties and for added effect glued a pair of sawed off golf tees for nipples. He turned to look at his profile in the mirror. Boobies complete with erect nipples. The effect was rather good.



He slipped on the panties, tight enough to hide his cock, as long as he didn’t get aroused at work…fat chance of that happening! He had been looking at the same old co-workers for years now and no one had even piqued his interest enough to ask their name let alone stir any sexual desire.



Stockings slid surprisingly easily over his muscled hairy legs. The dress came to mid thigh and the look was complete, except for shoes. Where in the hell would he find a pair of size 10 women’s shoes at this time of the morning? And how the hell would he manage to walk in them?



He got down on his hands and knees…scooting to the back of the closet, cell phone held aloft to see if maybe something other than his standard black leather dress shoes might be hiding back there. And sure enough, that rotten ex of his had left a shoe box with sandals in them…tags still attached. She had no sense for money, at least not his money when she went shopping.



But at least they were sandals with no heels. He squeezed his size ten man feet into the size 9 woman’s shoe and fastened the strap. Maybe not a fashion statement with the slinky red dress, but better than his shoes. He winced as he stood up, the sandals tight and uncomfortable. It will remind me of how much this pisses me off at least.



But his hair, short and closely cropped, thick eyebrows…what to do about that?



Finding tweezers, surprised that he had some he stood in front of the mirror and quickly plucked his eyebrows into a semblance of womanly appearance. Smiling he found he liked the shaped trim eyebrows. He put the tweezers where he could find them easily next time. Now for hair. What to do for hair?



He started grinning as he remembered his neighbor two floors down had wigs. Lots and lots of wigs. She was a wig designer of all things. And she had borrowed coffee that one morning.



He grabbed his briefcase and headed for the elevator. Punching the 11th floor button he found himself smiling and humming “The Monster Mash,” the only Halloweenish song he could think of.



As he knocked on her door, he realized he didn’t even know her name, just thought of her as the wig lady, usually adding the adjective crazy to the moniker.



She answered his knock and stood staring at him with such a look of abject horror that he started to laugh. Once the laugh started he couldn’t stop. Her look never changed, but she backed away from the door…preparing to shut it, and probably lock every one of the dead bolts he suspected lined the door casing.



Finally catching his breath, he said, “Hi, I’m Thomas, I live upstairs, I am dressed for Halloween, but as you can see, a few key ingredients are missing. I thought maybe you could loan me a wig.”



At that point, her horror turned to mirth and she let out a girlish giggle. “Come on in. You need some help if you are going to pull this off.”



“I have made as many wigs for men as for women, and I think I have the perfect one for you…also a pair of shoes that just might fit better than those things you have on.” She led him into her work room. A mass of wigs, and a rack of clothes, a rack of shoes and a make-up table. “I don’t just make wigs, I do complete make-overs as well as the occasional low production movie costuming.”



He smiled, he had certainly wished he had known that before he had dressed in this outfit. “Maybe you can find me a costume, instead of this disaster I am wearing. I saw the look of fear on your face when you answered the door.”



“No, the look of fear was from thinking I was supposed to have a custom wig ready for a customer that I didn’t remember booking an appointment for. Apart from the shoes and the hair…you look pretty good. I am not even going to ask why you own a dress though.”



Frowning at the implication he said, “I bought it for an ex-girlfriend, she never came back to wear it. Found a better offer I guess.”



“Well that doesn’t matter, fixing you up is what we need to do now. So relax and let the expert have her way with you.” she winked at him as she went to work.



“Here’s a pair of heels, size 10 mens, and before you ask…lots of men dress like you do everyday.”



While she rummaged her collection of wigs, he sat down, discarded the too tight sandals and strapped on the black leather shoes. He stood up, wobbling and grabbed a chair to steady himself.



She laughed watching him, “You practice while I prepare the magic.”



After just a few minutes he found he could maneuver around the room, without too much wobble. He would sit at his desk and not move for the entire day…just another pretty face.



She sat him at her make-up table and transformed his manly face into a pretty, not quite beautiful, but definitely a pretty girly face. She added the wig and he gasped at the transformation. She added a “Ta-Da!” and announced him ready for Halloween, or a date with a handsome man. This was followed by a fit of giggles as she leaned in and kissed his cheek. “You owe me big time for this, and I want details of how many men hit on you today!”



As he was getting ready to leave, she looked at his briefcase and said, “That just won’t do.” She disappeared and came back with an over sized purse. “Put all the things you need in here for the day. I’ll have supper ready when you get back, I really am interested in how your day goes.”



He told her, “Thank you.” in the open doorway and her parting suggestion was, “Try not to say anything, just smile and look pretty.”



He laughed, then tried a girlish giggle. Raising his voice an octave, “Thanks for the advice.”



He arrived at his office on time, barely, and whisked in past his co-workers, everything from batman to Dracula to a fairy princess and a slew of other recognizable outfits. “They must have had advance warning of the costume mandate.” he thought.



As he was passing his secretary’s desk, he saw a note. It read “Junie called in sick, sorry, we called for a temp but they didn’t think they could find one for you today.” Inspiration struck. He sat at the desk, and quickly called himself in sick. He would be the temp for the day.



After a few minutes one of the secretaries, dressed in some sort of version of a bunny rabbit, stopped by his desk. “Hi, my name is Wilma, you must be Mr. Rexton’s temp for the day. I have good news and bad though. The good news is, he called in sick so you won’t have much to do today, and lucky for you because he is a tyrant. Bossy and demanding. The bad news is that you were supposed to wear a costume, but no worries, we understand it was short notice. Thanks for coming in, and just answer the phone, take messages and enjoy the day I’ll just hop on about my business.”



He managed to stammer out a simple, “Thanks.” a little hoarse, but he could always claim he had a cold. He was rather insulted by the implication that he was a tyrant and vowed to look into her upcoming Christmas bonus, to make sure it was of an amount worthy of a tyrant.



The phone was surprisingly quiet and no one approached his desk so he worked on his files, a good day to catch up on paperwork. Lots of glances and a few open stares as he sat working…until lunchtime. One of the newer attorneys came over and sat on the corner of the desk. A large “S” adorned his chest, he apparently fancied himself Superman.



“You must be the temp. I’m glad you didn’t wear a costume, because,” he leaned in very close, “then I wouldn’t have known how beautiful you are. He grinned and continued, “There’s cake and treats in the lunchroom, come on and enjoy.”



He stood and offered his arm. She stood, placed his hand on the offered arm and followed him into the lunchroom.



There was enough chatter that he found he could just smile, or pretend to be chewing his food and nod. Lunchtime over, day half over and he was smiling, he had pulled this thing off. But damn, how could they believe that he, He was a woman.



By 4:00 most of the staff had gone home and he decided that he could go into his own office and get a couple of hours of real work done before his usual quitting time of 6:00.



A quick trip to the bathroom and call it a done deal for the wig.



There was another woman in the hallway and they stopped and stared at each other. Wow, she is stunning he thought, how come I never saw her before. And why is she not wearing a costume?



She said, “Hi, I’m a temp here today.”



He smiled, “Me too.”



They walked into the bathroom today making, what he hoped, was girl talk. He stared around the women’s washroom. Not so different from the men’s, apart from the urinals.



He went into the stall and struggled with the panties, then decided he better sit down to have this piss.



They both emerged from their separate stalls at the same time and stood washing their hands. He felt almost like a pervert, in the ladies can, openly leering at a woman, who thought he was a woman. He felt the stirrings of his cock. Oh no, this could be bad.



She reached over and placed her hand on his arm. “I know we don’t know each other, but we are both temps here, will probably never see each other again, and I am attracted to you.”



His heart pounded in his chest. He swallowed hard, thought of the law suit in the making, but hey…this was her idea.



He stammered out, “You are beautiful, and I am so attracted to you, I could do you right now.”



She giggled and led him into the largest stall and clicked the lock on the door.



She leaned in for a kiss and he kissed her back. Her tongue drove deep in his mouth, thrilling him to the point of no return. He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her closer, grinding his hips to hers. She pulled back, and he thought, “She felt my cock throbbing against her hot pussy and knows I am a man.”



But she wasn’t shocked or looking afraid at all. She ran her hands over his shoulders, and leaned in to renew the kiss. She reached up to feel his boobs and this time he pulled back. She’ll know for sure if she goes squeezing on these water balloons.



She looked at him quizzically and said, “This is rather awkward, but maybe if we each put on a blindfold, we won’t feel so self conscious. He readily agreed, just bend her over, fuck her hard and get the hell out of there. “No one even knows who I am.”



“OK, good idea.”



She bent and removed both of her stockings, handing him one. They tied the make-shift blindfolds over their eyes and promised no peeking. He reached for her but it was too late, she had spun him around backwards, pushed him forward over the toilet and was hiking up his dress in the back. With one hand bracing him forward, she ripped his panties off his body and before he could utter a word of protest there was a hard cock pushing against his ass.



The only thought was “Shit…I am not the only man dressed as a woman today and I am about to get it up the ass. Can’t he tell an ass from a pussy?”



The cock kept pushing at his ass and his own cock got harder, thicker and longer, throbbing painfully as it bobbed up and down.



“Stop it you fool…I’m a man too,”



The manly voice from behind said, “I know, I could tell from the first minute you walked in the door Mr. Rexton, but I have been wanting to fuck that tight ass of yours for years.”



“Happy fucking Halloween!” and with that he thrust his cock into the tight ass, letting out a grunt, accompanied by a scream. Without letting up he fucked his ass, hard and fast, full strokes.



Mr. Rexton was numb with shock. He was enjoying having his ass forcefully taken. The initial pain actually made his own cock harder. He reached down to stroke himself as his ass was being destroyed by the monster cock that pistoned in and out like a machine.



The bathroom rang with the sound of two men taking pleasure from one another. The smell of musk hanging in the air. His ass on fire, he felt the first jet of cum and almost lost his own as this ‘woman’ came in his ass. He was still panting, still hard and still needing when the cock slipped from his ass. The other man spun him around again, and dropped to his knees. Mr. Rexton was getting the best blow job he had ever gotten…and from a man.



The man sucked and bit at his cock. He braced both arms on the stall walls and pumped his hips. Throat fucking this heavenly mouth. With a grunt, he felt his balls tighten, drawing up tight to his body and put both hands on the mans head and held him there. His balls resting on his chin while his cock pumped a load of cum right down the throat of another man.



Gasping from the exertion and the pleasure, he felt himself embraced, hugged close to this near naked man…and then the feel of lips on his. He could taste his cum and he licked at the lips eagerly, driving his tongue deep to get more of that taste.



The door opened and he found himself alone, blindfolded in the women’s washroom, cum leaking out of his ass and the taste of his own seed still lingering on his tongue.



He slipped off the blindfold, retrieved his panties and pulled them on.



Still shocked at what had happened he packed his purse and decided to call it a day. Who was that woman/man?



He would have to live with knowing that someone in his office knew what he had done. He would have to live with what he had just submitted to, and the knowledge that he had loved it.



But those were thoughts for another day.



This was Halloween and he was going to enjoy the rest of his day. And he still had to return the borrowed items to the crazy wig lady. The cute crazy wig lady.



He rapped sharply at her door. She answered and stepped back to allow him to come in. Once he was inside, she shut the door and locked it. She turned to look at him and then grabbed him and started to kiss him. He was hesitant at first, then eager as her tongue delved deep into his mouth. Her kisses both shocking and arousing. Her hands ran over his chest, dipping lower to rub at his cock through the dress and thin panties. He wasn’t sure what to think, but decided that thinking might be a little over rated at this moment.



Two sets of girl clothes hit the floor just inside the entry. She clung to him, his recently sucked cock springing once more to full attention as his thoughts strayed to the feel of that cock in his ass. She grabbed his hand and pulled him to her bedroom where she pushed him onto the bed and climbed on top of him.



“What is with all the sexually aggressive people today?” he pondered. Not that he was complaining though. He lay back while she sucked on his cock. Her skills were amazing. His cock throbbed, harder and longer with each poke of her tongue at his piss slit. Her hand cupping his balls, gently at first, then she increase the pressure until he was ready to scream. She let go and lay down beside him.



“So, tell me, how many men hit on you today?” she laughed as she looked sideways at him, licking her lips, one hand lazily stroking his cock.



“Only one. Just the one man…oh,” he grinned, “and one woman.”



“Hmmmmm, did you fuck the woman?” she had just a hint of a frown on her face.



“No, I promise you I did not fuck that woman.” He laughed and rolled on top of her, “But I am going to fuck you!”



He took her hard, her cunt already wet and slippery. His thick cock sliding all the way in and he nestled deep inside for a moment before pounding her cunt as hard as he could, as hard at that man had taken his ass. When he thought of his own ass getting fucked, his cock twitched inside the warm wet pussy.



He pulled his cock free, kissed her on the lips and said, “What I’d really like to do is fuck your pretty little bum. I want to shove my stiff prick right up your tight brown mouth and see how well you kiss at that end.”



She looked deeply into his eyes, “It’s about time. I have wanted you since I first borrowed that coffee.”



With that she rolled over, raised herself on her hands and knees and waggled her bottom at him. “Do you think you can find it, or do you need a little help?” Without waiting for an answer, she reached back and parted her cheeks, fingers digging in, giving him a clear view of her delightful asshole.



He wasted no time, put his cock at that back door and pushed, it was almost painful, the pressure on the tip of his cock. He thrust his hips forward and leaned his body ahead to let his weight push his cock, and was rewarded with a release of her sphincter muscle. The tiny rose bud blossomed around his cock, kissing it tightly. His head now completely enclosed, he felt her body quiver, the snug fit rippling around the crown of his cock. He wasn’t sure if the moans coming out of her were of pain or pleasure but when she pushed back against him he took it as silent permission to drive his cock home.



His balls slapped upwards against her wet cunt, making a delicious sound to accompany the whimpers and moans. He pummeled her ass, hard and fast. His cock a blur as he made full strokes, tip to base, almost letting his cock slip out then driving it back in so that his balls continued the assault on her pussy.



She started to buck underneath him and he fancied himself a rodeo rider trying to stay on the bull. He grabbed a handful of her hair and held on, sealed to her by the tight grip of her asshole on his cock. His own asshole twitched as he felt that familiar and welcome tingle start in his balls. He imagined he could feel the cum surging up and through his cock, felt his little piss hole flare as he shot his load deep in her bowels.



As he emptied his cock, his free hand snaked under her, tweaked at her clit, rubbed hard until he felt her shudder. OMG! when she came, with his cock still in her ass, it felt like she was trying to strangle him. Her ass spasmed and convulsed while her entire body shook with the force of her orgasm. It felt like hours before she stopped moving under him. He pulled his hand free and tasted her sweet girl cum, then untangled his fingers from her hair while his cock reeled itself back in, retracting closer to his body and finally slipping free of the tiny mouth that had tried to devour him.

Author’s Note: This story is an original work of fiction. All characters appearing herein are at least eighteen, if not expressly stated. Future stories starring some or all of these characters might also be forthcoming based upon response and demand. Certain characters featured herein may also be found in other works by the authors. Feedback is desired and greatly appreciated. Email comments to the address in our profile. Thank you for reading.



Copyright 2010 by Jack and Josephine Cutter.



This story stars Todd Coulter and Vanessa Dorsey, and features Kaylee Cartwright, Lauren Rowlands, Adrienne Cooley, and Ethan Dunlar, with a special appearance by Mike Gregory.



This part contains: male-female erotic coupling, mff threesome sex, interracial, fellatio, cunnilingus, analingus, anal, showers, bathtubs, costumes, bikinis, lost opportunities, and healthy helpings of both sex and story.



This story begins post-prologue on Wednesday, October 26th.




* * * * *



It was warmth what woke him: sunlight drifting through cracks in the shutters and falling in shards across his face, stirring him out of deepest slumber. His eyes felt heavy at first and did not open, the result of an active night that ran long into the hours of morning.



His partner in such crimes was snuggled up next to him in bed, breathing steadily, her back pressed into his side, and the warmth of her body and the feel of her flesh against him were pleasurable enough diversions from his fatigue, and he rolled to drape his arm across her.



She murmured and pushed her rump into him with more force, and took his hand and drew it up between her large and wonderfully soft breasts. She turned her head just enough to meet his eyes, her mouth curved up in a lazy kind of smile.



“Good morning,” she purred.



“Good morning,” he replied with a smile of his own.



She wiggled against him. “This is nice,” she said. “I like this.”



He liked it, too, especially when she moved the way she was moving: luscious female bodies slithering against his were always well-received. “Likewise,” he said simply.



They lay peacefully in silence for the next few minutes, each enjoying the feel of the other, before the woman spoke once more in a whisper that was thoughtful and contemplative. “I’m surprised it took us so long to do this,” she said.



“Yes,” he agreed, “but it was more than worth the wait.”



She giggled. “True,” she admitted, her voice low and alluring, “but, still, it would’ve been nice to have had more time together. College time, you know?”



He nodded. “I know. The real world awaits . . . “



“Yeah,” she sighed.



“When do your parents get here?” he asked.



“Noon.”



He glanced at the clock: ten-thirty in the morning. “That doesn’t leave us much time,” he told her.



She grinned wickedly. “Enough,” she said simply, and he felt a familiar stirring in his loins.



The woman slipped from the bed and rose to her feet. She was naked and the room was light enough to allow him to gaze upon her body, which when faced away from him as it was constituted her long legs, rounded apple-shaped bottom, narrow waist, and slender back, and when the angle was right also the sides of her fleshy breasts. Her skin was the color of lightest milk chocolate and ever-so-smooth to the touch, which he knew well from recent personal experience. She rustled her head and the long brunette tresses fluttered, and came to rest across her shoulder blades.



She turned and glanced back over her shoulder, bright brown eyes sparkling. “Like what you see?” she asked playfully as her hands reached behind and cupped her buttocks.



She was breathtaking and he told her so. “Very much,” he breathed.



She giggled and pulled her cheeks apart, giving him an unobstructed and glorious view of the crinkled copper plot of her anus and the pursed pink folds beneath. Her nether region was puffy after a long night of hard sex, the pink even more pronounced by the milk chocolate skin surrounding it.



“It might’ve been nice to have had you fuck my ass,” she said suddenly in a very reflective voice, as if she were considering any old thing, and then her hands released the cheeks of her butt.



She floated across the room and out of sight, hips swishing in that distinctly feminine way, and moments later he heard the shower gurgle and sputter, and burst to life, followed then by the sweet sound of her voice.



“Coming?” she called.



And Todd Coulter, who had waited two long years for the events of the last several days to transpire and the bed and body of Vanessa Dorsey to occasion itself, sprang from that bed with a burst of speed and hurried into the bathroom, knowing his time with her was limited and not wanting to waste even the most minor of moments.



And after another frenzied round of love-making in the shower and the hasty clean-up session that followed, her parents arrived at noon exactly, and when the bags were packed and the cars were loaded, the two said their goodbyes and promised to keep in touch, each feeling acutely the loss of the other and the missed opportunity that lay like an anvil in both of their laps.



And thirty months passed in the blink of an eye.



Part 01: Chosen



The papers were piled high on his desk.



It was Wednesday and Todd was working late. Only six weeks into his new dream-job-role as an online columnist for the sports section of the Los Angeles Chronicle newspaper, he was busy finishing up an article on a Friday deadline; he would be out in the field on assignment the next day and would not be able to work on the piece then.



He was nearly finished when a voice rang out through the office.



“Coulter!”



The voice belonged to Jonas Atwater, the editor of the sports section. He was a burly man in his mid-forties with salt-and-pepper hair and a full beard. He very rarely looked happy and very rarely had much that was pleasant to say.



Todd jumped up and hustled into the office of his boss.



“The Big Dog wants to meet you,” Atwater said without looking up. “Two floors up. Go.”



And so Todd turned on his heels and headed for the elevator, which would take him to the seventh floor and the office of the Editor-in-Chief. Frank Beldin oversaw the investigative journalists and the front page, as well as oversaw the work of the individual section head editors, which is why the editor heads, Atwater included, called him the Big Dog.



He knocked on the door when he arrived and Beldin waved him in (the walls and door of the office were glass, for two reasons: to let those outside know when the Big Dog was busy and not to be disturbed, and to ensure there was no loitering around the newsroom).



“Sit,” Beldin said without preamble as Todd entered.



The phone rang and Beldin answered it with a bellowing, “Speak!” He listened momentarily, then said, “No good, minimize it and bounce it to page four. He’s lost his touch.” He slammed the phone down and looked up at Todd, studying him for a moment, before he thrust out his hand. “Good to meet you, kid. Old Joe says your work is top-notch.”



“Thank you, sir,” Todd replied humbly.



“I read your first column,” the older man said, his words coming fast and furious and nearly overlapping each other. “Dyslexic linebacker. Good stuff.”



“Thank you, sir,” Todd said again, because really, what else was there to say?



The phone rang again and the man snatched it up. “What?” he bellowed in a raspy cough. He listened again for much longer than the last time, then barked, “Thirty-six minutes to get me pages, Cross. Make it count.” He slammed the phone down and screamed out, “Louis!”



A man materialized at the door seemingly out of thin air. He was short and thin and balding with wire rim spectacles. “Boss?”



“Clear space and hold page one!” he ordered. “Cross has himself a white whale.”



“Will do,” the man at the door replied, and then he was gone.



“Keep up the good work, kid,” Beldin said with a glance at Todd, “now get outta here.”



And that was Todd Coulter’s introduction to the fast-paced world of Page One.



* * *



She was restless and troubled and extremely horny, and she was still furious at her boyfriend for cheating on her, the combination of which led to one indisputable conclusion: she was going to fuck someone and she was going to enjoy it, and then she was going to tell that lying sack of shit all about it.



The scene at the bar was not too exciting, however, and her prospects were thin. There was a decent-looking man sitting alone at the bar, slightly older, likely married, probably in town on business looking to score some hot young drunk piece of ass. There was a cute younger man lounging on one of the couches along the wall, a pair of women with him who were both quite clearly ignoring him, which meant he was either their harmless gay friend (a complete non-starter), married to one of them (off-limits) or related to one of them (which would make him potentially available). Lastly, there were four male artsy types seated at a nearby table, no doubt wrapped up in discussions involving words like ambiance and juxtaposition and sublimation, and one of them was cute enough, she supposed, even if he was probably a prick.



When it came right down to it, however, she did not really care what the personality was like on this particular night of nights, a Thursday as it happened to be: she only cared about sexual orientation and availability, with a little bit of hotness thrown in for good measure. She was not looking for love or romance or conversation. She wanted cock and she wanted it bad, and any man who looked halfway decent and wanted her back was more than qualified enough.



Which is why her spirits lifted greatly when three young men strolled into the bar, well-dressed and handsome: here were three potential partners far above what was already to be found.



“Perfect,” she said without realizing she had spoken out loud.



Her companions followed the line of her eye. “Fresh meat,” giggled the friend to her left, a bubbly hazel-eyed brunette named Megan, followed an instant later by the friend to her right, a beauty with dark red hair named Lauren, who said, “Tasty. I want the tall one.”



Which left two to choose from, although she needed no further time. “I want the strong one,” she breathed.



The one she wanted was HOT. He was medium height and well-built, but not too big. His arms bulged against his shirt, but his outfit was not designed to show-off and overindulge his physique, but rather complement it. He had straight dark hair and a handsome face, and a very cute smile, and he fit her requirements perfectly.



Megan giggled. “That leaves the black boy to me,” she whispered breathlessly. It was common knowledge that the girl had a thing for black guys.



Lauren grinned wickedly. She was the most confident of the bunch and the most sexually liberated, and she took charge. “Let’s go,” she cooed, and off they went.



* * *



Todd was used to getting razzed about the short-lived nature of his relationships, and tonight was one of those nights for whatever reason. It was late and they were standing at the bar at some hole-in-the-wall bar in Santa Monica, their third stop of the night, and his friends would not let him off the hook.



“You should come with an expiration date,” laughed the man to his right. Dwayne Wimbley was an old friend of Todd’s from high school and the two often hung out together. “Shelf-life: two months.”



“Seriously, he needs a disclaimer,” agreed Ethan Dunlar, Todd’s current roommate of almost two years. “This guy churns through more ass than a gay bar.”



Todd shrugged. None of this was new. “I just haven’t found the right person yet,” he told them, “and I’m not going to date a girl if I don’t think I can be with her long-term.”



“But you’ll sleep with her,” Dwayne added with a grin.



Todd shrugged again. “If she wants to, sure, but only if she wants to. I’m not going to push the issue and I’m totally honest with her up front.”



“Sounds like Ethan has grossly exaggerated your number of conquests,” Dwayne said.



“What about all those women you parade through our place?” Ethan asked incredulously.



Todd grinned. “I don’t sleep with every girl I meet, Ethan,” he said amusedly. “I’m not a man-whore like Dwayne here.”



“Speaking of women,” Dwayne said in a low and conspiratorial voice, “we need to talk about Saturday night. It’s gonna be off the fuckin’ hook!”



Ethan sighed. “Of course my company sends me out of town on Halloween weekend,” he said morosely. “Of course, they do.”



“Bummer,” Todd said as he gave his friend a comforting pat on the back.



Dwayne was already lost inside his own imagination. “So many women,” he whispered, “all liquored up and ready to party. Good shit, boys, good shit. Get ready for my Superman swerve.”



Todd rolled his eyes as Ethan asked, “Are you really doing that?”



“Fuck yeah!” Dwayne exclaimed. “Every girl wants to freak a superhero!”



A lovely female voice broke in. “Sounds like fun,” it said, and three male heads turned to find three beautiful ladies standing before them, eyeing them intently.



Dwayne was a charmer and instantly took the reins. “Hi, sugar,” he cooed to the speaker, looking her up and down.



She was gorgeous, Todd had to give her that: dark red hair and dark green eyes full of spark and sparkle, a gorgeous face and a great body in a sleek black top with exposed cleavage and ultra-tight black skirt. Todd read her instantly: the woman was a man-eater, and knew it.



“Hey yourself,” she replied sweetly, then turned to face Ethan. “What’s your name, baby?”



Ethan was a great guy and a great roommate, and Todd always wished him well, but those wishes rarely panned out in the romance department as the guy was incredibly shy and reserved around women. He was attractive, very much so at six-foot-four with curly brown hair and big blue eyes, but sadly lacked the ability to converse with ladies without tripping over his words.



“Me?” he asked lamely, pointing at himself. A flush rose over his face, recognizable even in the relative darkness of the room.



The woman grinned. “You,” she told him firmly, and sidled up next to him.



The second woman, a cute brunette, was pressed against Dwayne an instant later with a big goofy grin on her face. “Hi,” she breathed, and it was clear by the smile on his friend’s face that he did not mind being spurned by the redhead in the slightest.



It was at this point that Todd noticed the blonde. She had been standing behind her two other friends and Todd had not really gotten that great a look at her, but in the back of his mind a little bird was tickling that said she had not taken her eyes off him since they walked up. He was not sure how he knew this important fact, but he knew it nonetheless.



The girl was gorgeous, not in the sly and sensual mold of the dark redhead or the cute innocent girl-next-door vein of the brunette, but in that wholesome All-American cheerleader sort of way: locks of long-flowing strawberry-blonde hair, bright and expressive baby blue eyes, and a luscious body somehow stuffed into an orange-and-yellow floral print top with a deep cleavage and sprayed-on, hip-hugger jeans.



“I’m Kaylee,” she told him, stepping close. She smelled of raspberries and roses, and there was an intensity in her eyes that was a little unusual, and a little refreshing.



“Todd,” he replied, taking her hand. The other pairs were engaged in their own conversations, which was perfectly fine with him. “Our friends seem . . . occupied.”



Kaylee smiled, flashing pearly white teeth. “My friends chose poorly,” she whispered, stepping closer, so close that they nearly touched. One delicate hand trailed up to his bicep and squeezed it ever so gently. “I like strength.”



He formulated his read in the next moment, very nearly certain his read was right: she was on the prowl and ready to party, and she had chosen him from across the room. He did not know why she was so committed to her cause, but Todd was no prude and despite his usually noble intentions, he was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.



Especially when the gift was sixty-nine inches of buxom blonde goodness.



He took a chance . . . and sealed the deal.



He leaned forward and whispered into her ear. “Whatever you’re looking for,” he breathed in a husky voice, “you can stop. You’ve found it. However you want me, I’m yours.”



Her eyes widened and her resolve flickered for the briefest moment, before her eyes narrowed and a wicked sort of grin spread across her face. She latched onto his arm, plastering her body against his. “Let’s go,” she purred.



Todd grinned right back. He was not the sort of man to engage in pure one-night stands, but every rule has its exceptions. The woman was beautiful, which tickled his loins, but also confident and clearly knew what she was doing, and that was enough to satisfy his sense of honor.



“Gentlemen,” he announced to his friends, “it’s been a night. Ladies, a pleasure.”



And with that, Todd Coulter and his beautiful blonde companion made their way out the door.



* * *



His words set her nerves aflutter and the hair on the back of her neck on edge.



Her plan was nearly complete: she had a ready, willing, and able young man in the cab with her, en route to his place somewhere in Santa Monica, where sex would undoubtedly follow if she wanted it to. It was why she had gone out that night and what she had sought, and now all she had to do was fuck his brains out.



Which was why, when the young man with her was so good-looking and so very much her type, she wondered just why exactly it was that she was having second thoughts. She was horny, yes, very much so, and the way he knew exactly what she was after was titillating and incredibly sexy, but there was doubt inching its ugly way forward, and she did not know why.



The cab ride was almost completely silent, as was the walk up two flights of stairs to his apartment. They held hands, but touched little more than that; he was waiting for her, it seemed, to make the first significant move, and she appreciated that. Just another mark in his favor to conflict with her growing unease.



The apartment was a modest little place with hardwood floors and a big open step-down living area, sparsely but nicely decorated, and almost immediately after having entered she wondered about making the wrong decision: what would her boyfriend think, after all, when he found out she cheated.



“Second thoughts?” he asked gently as he went to a little make-shift bar on a table in the corner.



She turned to face him, this man who seemed to understand her so well, and could not keep the surprise off her face or out of her voice when she answered his question with a question, and a dose of affirmation. “Is it obvious?” she asked quietly.



He smiled, the expression as soft as her voice had been. “I’m pretty good at reading people,” he said as he handed her a drink of what looked to be white wine. He took her hand and led her to the couch. “Let’s talk.”



She sat down and looked at her drink. “About what?” she asked, playing cool.



“About why,” he replied calmly, not pressing, just asking. “Why you, and why me?”



Kaylee sighed deeply. There was something so soothing about his voice, so comforting, it almost drew the words right out of her. She opened her mouth, paused for a long moment, and began.



“I caught my boyfriend fucking another woman in my apartment five days ago,” she said in a low voice that gained volume and heat as she continued. “My apartment, not his. He knew I was working late, but I needed a specific file and had to run home, and I walked in on him fucking her from behind in the shower. My shower. Mine. It was obviously not their first time.”



His deep gray eyes were sympathetic. He asked, and simply, “And me?”



“I wanted to fuck some hot random guy to teach the asshole a lesson,” she revealed with more fire in her voice than she planned. “He is so jealous, the thought of someone else touching my body would drive him crazy.” She lowered her eyes again, suddenly self-conscious. “You were there, and you’re really cute, and then when you told me you were mine . . .” She trailed off into a sigh, then breathed, “I knew I wanted to fuck you.”

She felt a finger under her chin as he lifted her head to meet her eyes with his. “Kaylee,” he said gently, and she liked the way her name rolled off his lips, “you are far too beautiful, far too sensitive, and frankly, far too intelligent to be with a man who does not appreciate what you are for what it is, and cherish it. I don’t know your boyfriend, but you can certainly do better.”



His words were simple, and yet each hit home with raw typhoon force; she was trembling by the end, her pulse racing. It was perhaps the sweetest and most important thing any man had ever said to her.



“Who are you?” she whispered, wondrous.



He shrugged and smiled. “I’m Todd,” he replied, simple as that.



“Todd,” she said then in a different sort of voice, and her eyes narrowed as her mouth curved into a wicked sort of grin, and she added, “No more doubts.”



And with that, she pounced.



* * *



The woman was practically feral, tearing at his clothes even as she sought to suck the whole of his face into her mouth. His words had not been spoken to enflame her passions, just to ease her mind and boost her confidence and self-worth, but they seemed to have accomplished all of those things, and perhaps more.



His shirt was soon gone and her fingers wasted no time tracing the thick muscles of his back, the chiseled biceps of his arms and the flat washboard of his abdomen. Her lips left his mouth and moved to his chest, where they licked and suckled his skin and nipples with wild abandon.



And then she broke away and stepped back, chest heaving, eyes flashing, the look of lust in her those baby blue pools almost dangerous, and wordlessly her hands gripped the bottom of her floral print top. With one fluid motion she pulled the orange-and-yellow shirt up and over her head, exposing her naked upper body to his admiring gaze.



She did not stop there, however, again wasting little time. She wiggled out of her jeans, her panties moving with them down her legs, and the sight of her sudden complete nakedness urged a groan past Todd’s lips, as well as a raging erection in his pants.



The gorgeous blonde smiled at the awe she saw on his face and stepped back two paces to where the door to his bedroom was. She pressed herself against the frame, posing for him as she moved her willowy body this way and that, never releasing her eyes from his.



Truly, the woman was breathtaking; the man who cheated on such a creature was the most foolish of men, indeed. Kaylee was a goddess: perfectly rounded pear-shaped breasts; flat stomach and thin waist with smooth and fluid skin; round hips, but not too round above two long and lean and lovely legs; and the luscious swath of strawberry-blonde curls where the legs met, neatly trimmed in the shape of a landing strip. There was a smile on her face now, the kind of coy smile only those who are lovers can share, and with the beckoning of her hand, Kaylee ensured they would soon cross that boundary.



“Clothes, please, Todd,” she cooed in a voice that oozed like pure honey.



His jeans and boxers followed his shirt to the floor and in moments he was against her again, their naked bodies pressed together, her breasts squished into his chest, his stiffness pressed into her belly. With his arms over her shoulders his hands caressed the small of her back as hers clutched his ass, and together they lumbered, lips locked again and unbroken, into the bedroom in search of its titular object.



And when they reached it, Kaylee took charge and shoved Todd back to fall in a heap on the bed, sprawled out on his back. She stood over him with her hands on her hips, a fiery golden-haired goddess with beautiful brown skin and wild blue eyes, breasts swaying as she sucked in ragged breaths, the slickness between her legs catching the small bit of light in the dim room to shine invitingly.



She moved over him, but Todd had different ideas: his hands lashed out and grabbed her, and flipped her over in one quick motion so that she was pinned on her back beneath him, struggling against his embrace.



“Hey!” the gorgeous woman cried, but her cry was muffled by his lips as they set about devouring her.



She responded by enthusiastically trying to baste the inside of his mouth with her tongue and the frenzied session of kissing that resulted nearly took what remained of his breath.



Which ended only when he was able to tear himself away, dropping his head lower to feast upon her breasts, suckling the nipples as his fingers kneaded the swollen flesh. She moaned as he worshipped them, alternating between the two, crushing them, sucking them, teasing them, nibbling them.



And then he went lower still, across the flat span of her stomach and over the silken swath of strawberry gold to the saturated pink beneath. His tongue lapped up the juices he found there even as he sank one of his fingers to the second knuckle inside the oven-hot tunnel of her pussy.



Kaylee moaned and her back arched sharply, thrusting those wonderful breasts into the air, as his tongue went to work on her, assaulting her sex. The girl was not shy, once rid of her inhibitions; her moans turned to whispers as she begged for him to make her cum.



“Right there,” she cooed, “oh yes, oh yes, don’t stop, oh please, don’t stop, right there, make me cum, make me cum, please oh please oh please ohhhhh ppllllleeeeeeeaaaassseeee!”



The best thing about a vocal lover is the knowledge, apart from trembling limbs, that climax has come, and as the low-pitched moans and fierce whispers transformed into a high-volume squeal, Todd knew beyond the twitching of her slick pink folds and the quaking of her legs that the woman was cresting into wicked orgasm. And then her sweet sex nectar gushed forth and into his mouth and he knew she had ascended the very heights of pleasure.



Of course, he still wanted to give her more.



He kept his lips affixed to her puffy labia and suckled her even as his tongue continued to bathe her folds and clit through the heart of her climax, and his ministrations ensured that instead of coming down from the heights, he sent her quivering body hurtling towards another plane of pleasure, this one even higher than the one before.



And as the tingling that had never fully receded from her first orgasm built again, the sounds Kaylee made became less and less coherent. Her shrieks of encouragement lost all semblance to the English language and devolved into manic whimpering and high-pitched squeals.



“Ahhh! Aiiiieee! Ooohhhhh! Ahhhh! Ahhh! Aii! Aiii! Ooaaahhhh! Aiii! Ahhh! Aiiiieeee!”



And when her body was trembling more violently than it had at any previous point, such that the soft hairs above the region he was attacking began to tickle his nose from all the movement, Todd decided it was time to finish her.



Even as his tongue strummed against her clitoris, his lips wrapped around the swollen nub and suckled feverishly that spot like a babe at its mother’s breast, bearing down upon her erogenous zone in a way quite unlike any she had ever experienced before. Her mind was an untenable mess: she could not think enough to speak or move, her body acting and responding purely at its basest instinctual level, a true pleasure-induced hysteria.



And then she came again and the wailing began.



It began in the depths of her, that purest place of the female body where pleasure is first recognized as pleasure and the message is sent to all nerve endings. Only in this instance, instead of a little flurry of gunfire as with normal orgasm, it was like a grenade had been detonated within her. Every nerve and conductor and receptacle sang in unison with the unbridled intensity of inescapable climax and her body, overloaded, almost ceased to function properly.



Kaylee screamed and the world heard it.



Todd, however, did not.



As her pleasure crested and the climax exploded within her, the lovely and supple thighs of the buxom blonde woman constricted and clamped down like a vice on either side of his head, closing off his ears to much of the sound she began making shortly thereafter. He felt her hands lash out and grip the back of his head as her hips bucked upwards, taking his head, still attached to her between the legs, with them again and again as wave after wave of glorious orgasm crashed over her. It seemed as if she was pouring bucket loads of her juice over his face; he could feel it smearing his cheeks and trickling down his chin.



It took a long while for her to come down from the heights she reached with her second orgasm, during which time Todd finally raised his head and surveyed his handiwork. Her face was contorted in a grimace which gave the appearance of being in significant pain, although he knew differently. She was whimpering and panting heavily, and her legs were still moving as she curled up somewhat into a fetal position. The pink lips of her pussy were still twitching and contracting, still shooting little bursts of pleasure through her. There were tears on her cheeks.



And then her eyes popped open and turned slowly to meet his own, and Todd saw more fire and flashing emotion in them then he had even seen in them before; there was a ferocity in her eyes that was startling, and even frightening.



And then Kaylee Cartwright vaulted up to a sitting position and slapped him full across the face.



“You’ve ruined me,” she hissed.



And in an incredible display of strength and athleticism, while Todd was still wrapping his head around her words, the golden-haired vixen grabbed him and flipped him over onto his back, straddled him as her hands yanked at his erection, and impaled herself to the hilt on his several inches of steel, despite the competing qualities of his thickness and her tightness.



“FFFUUUUCCCKKKK YYYEEESSSSS!” she cried.




Kaylee was a woman deranged as she rode him for all she was worth: her blue eyes were wild and flashing; her head was thrashing, her hair whipping around her like she was standing in hundred-mile winds; her exquisite breasts were bouncing and jiggling, her ass slapping down hard against him and rebounding like his legs were a trampoline; and her hands were pounding against his chest, punishing him for the ridiculous pleasure he had given her.



It was a full-on fuck frenzy.



Todd’s head was spinning and his lungs did their best, despite the pounding, to gasp for precious bits of air. But her pussy was creating havoc upon him, the ferocious inner muscles of her sex squeezing and gripping as he slid in and out; his cock was on absolute fire.



And then Kaylee began to gyrate her ass without slowing and Todd knew he would not make it long; the breakneck pace was nearly ending him already.



“FUCK” the beautiful blonde screamed. “FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!”



Kaylee rocked and rolled her hips as she fucked hard up and down, burying him again and again within her but from different angles, carving out new ground with his cock on every penetration. It was like she wanted to feel his meat against every nook and cranny of her insides and would not be satisfied unless it happened.



Todd reached around and took hold of the luscious cheeks of her ass and held on for dear life; there would be time to explore her other physical assets later. He was just looking to survive.

And survive he did . . . to Kaylee’s growing dismay.



She was closing in on her third orgasm as her clit ground down against his thick and invasive cock, while he had not yet found his first. She was unaccustomed to receiving so much pleasure in exchange for so little and fought it desperately, but there was nothing she could do; she was a slave to her body and the cock that was wrecking it.



Her back arched again and orgasm pulverized her, and another incredible scream tore from her throat, and this one Todd heard. It was one of the most amazingly sexual sounds he had ever been privy to and it finished him completely.



The pressure that had been building steady through his feast at her pussy and the subsequent fuck session erupted in a geyser so powerful that he was worried she would be thrown from him. Kaylee’s eyes did open wide as she felt the torrential onslaught of his syrup coating and filling her insides, but her reaction was quite unexpected: for the first time in a long time, she smiled.



And so they came together in that moment, Kaylee descending from her third passing Todd at the crest of his first, and after much in the way of trembling and quivering and quaking and jiggling and grunting, she collapsed upon him, his cock still half-embedded within her, her breasts squished into his chest, her bounty of strawberry-gold, raspberry-smelling hair just beneath his nose.



And it was in this position that the two newly minted lovers would remain for some time, their bodies slick with sweat and sexual juice, the both of them exhilarated and exhausted by ridiculous orgasm.



* * *



He was super sweet and super shy, and while those were not necessarily traits she looked for all the time, when the occasion called for it she truly enjoyed dealing with such men. He was, for all intents and purposes, putty in her hands from the very beginning.



The three couples parceled off quickly after their introductions; she dragged her beau to the bar as Megan settled into a dark corner booth, while Kaylee, heartbroken and eager for revenge, wasted little time leaving on the arm of her new man, and was probably already two orgasms deep when Lauren followed some thirty minutes later with her own boy in tow.



Ethan, that is, who was tall and handsome and who greatly enjoyed the blowjob she gave him to completion in the back of the cab, but who might have had, she realized with some significant concern as they reached their destination, more than a little too much to drink. Her concern, of course, was derived not from thoughts for his well-being and safety, but rather her own desire to satisfy herself with his cock.



Which, she reasoned, would not be available if he succumbed to his stupor; the blowjob, she realized with annoyance as he stumbled up the stairs, was a major tactical error on her part.



The apartment was better than she expected, light on furniture but long on charm with dark wood floors and big main room, and best of all, it was clean. Too many guys were filthy; this one, at least, was not, which was another mark in his favor. Liquor tolerance, of course, was not.



She surveyed the room only a moment before turning to face her latest prey, who was fumbling with the bolts on the door. He turned to her when finished and they looked at each other for long moments, standing several feet apart, and she realized with little surprise that she would need to be the initiator for the night in its entirety.



In truth, she preferred it that way.



Lauren grasped the bottom of her shirt and drew it up over her head, baring herself. His eyes, of course, dropped instantly to her breasts, very large, very firm, and worth every penny. She raised her hand and beckoned him closer with one delicate, curving finger.



“They’re all yours tonight, stud,” she told him as she put her hands on her hips.



The man grinned and shuffled forward, his movements awkward and halting, a strange cocktail of intoxication and apprehension. When he reached her he paused, and waited so long that she actually had to reach up, grip his head in the palms of her hands, and guide his mouth down to the nipple of her left breast, which he suckled with a sudden vigorous appreciation.



It felt wonderful, if a little disjointed.



“The bedroom, I think,” the buxom redhead sighed after a time, ready for further adventures.



“Yes!” he replied, slurring the word only a bit, and lurched forward.



She kicked off her shoes and followed, wiggling her hips as she went to slither free of her constrictive black mini-skirt, ultra-tight and disabling significantly her ability to move. She’d had to hike it up in the back of the cab to contort into adequate dick-sucking position; if the driver had been paying any attention, he likely received quite a lovely view of her rump.



It was when they reached the bedroom, however, that everything fell apart. He stumbled as he moved through the door ahead of her and tumbled onto the bed, and by the time she reached him short moments later, he was completely out.



“Fuck,” she stated flatly.



She pushed his shoulders and punched him a couple of times; there was less than zero response. He was passed out and would not be waking up anytime soon. Her night, it seemed, was over.



And then she heard it: moaning, guttural and unmistakable, muffled but nearby.



Lauren crept from the room, not bothering to dress, wearing only her black thong underwear, and followed the sounds to a door down the hall. She pressed her ear against it and listened to the sounds of sex echoing within, all the grunts and groans and moans. At least someone, she thought ruefully, was getting their rocks off, and the woman, it seemed, was a screamer.



“FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!”



It was not the words that gave her pause in that moment; Lauren, after all, was a vocal lover herself and often unleashed a torrent of nasty talk during sex. She was no prude and dirtiness did not bother her. No, it was the voice that caught her attention, a voice she knew well after many long years of close friendship, including some very experimental college nights.



Kaylee Cartwright was fucking a man in the room beyond the door, and loving it.



Lauren smiled, happy for her friend. She was happy Kaylee was getting the revenge she so rightly deserved, and getting it good. The man from the bar, it seemed, was hitting all the right places, touching all the right spots.



The sounds subsided and quiet came over the apartment, broken only by the sound of choppy snoring from the room where Ethan lay passed out upon the bed. Lauren rolled her eyes. It was her fault, however; she had called dibs on the guy first. She had only herself to blame.



She was not a woman to sit idly by, however, and accept an unfortunate situation as gospel, not if there was something she could do it. Lauren was horny and she was nearly naked, and there was an attractive man who clearly had few qualms about casual sex lying in the next room, along with a beautiful female she had fooled around with more than a few times in the past. She was not one to waste such an opportunity.



And so with a grin and a shiver of excitement, she opened the door.



* * *



“Well, well, what have we here?”



The voice was strong and confident, but also distinctly, musically feminine. It was also, Todd realized with a sudden rush of curiosity and wonder, not coming from the beautiful blonde woman currently draped on top of him, in whose syrupy, twitching inner sanctum his cock was still embedded.



Kaylee stirred as he lifted his head and looked around . . . to find standing in the doorway the gorgeous man-eating redhead from earlier that night, a wicked sort of smile splayed across her face. She was nearly naked, dressed in only a pair of black panties, her legs and stomach and breasts on glorious display. His initial thoughts had been correct: the young woman had an incredible body.



“Lauren?” he heard Kaylee call out incredulously.



“Hi, sweetie,” the dark redhead replied as she sashayed into the room, jiggling in all the right places. “You look like you’ve been having a good time.”



Kaylee giggled and clutched at Todd’s body, squeezing him. “I fucked him,” she chirped happily.



Lauren paused at the edge of the bed with one eyebrow arched. “I can see that,” she mused, glancing down at the place where they joined. “I could hear it, too. He sounds good.”



The blonde sighed. “He is good,” she revealed. “Very good.”



Todd found this entire situation extremely amusing, while mildly disconcerting at the same time; here he was flat on his back with his cock still stuffed in the pussy of a beautiful blonde woman, while said blonde woman’s friend, a beautiful topless dark redhead who had materialized unexpectedly at the end of a frenzied session of fucking, discussed his sexual prowess with her.

It was at this moment that he realized the redhead was staring at him, as if sizing him up. “Your friend is fine,” she said suddenly. “He drank too much and passed out on his bed. He’s a nice guy; it would’ve been fun.”



He heard the implication in her voice; the subtext was clear as a cloudless day. This was obviously not a woman checked by inhibitions, nor a woman who was used to being stranded by her sexual partners. She was hot, she was horny, and she was settled on her course of action. The only question left, it seemed, was how Kaylee would respond.



“Roll over, sweetie,” the dark redhead said, her voice changing from the strong tones of her arrival to the sensual tones of a woman on the verge of love-making. “Let me have a look at you.”



And when Kaylee moved, rolling from her place upon him to her back on the mattress beside, his cock slipping from her noiselessly but pleasurably, the answer to that last question was answered, and favorably, as these two young woman were clearly not new to one another.



The well-fucked blonde sighed and spread her legs, and the redhead crawled onto the bed and settled between them. Lauren ran her hand over Kaylee’s stomach, moving upward towards the pair of exquisite breasts above it. Her fingers walked up the slope of the blonde girl’s left breast, depressing the flesh with her fingertips, then catching the nipple between them. She squeezed and tugged ever-so-gently, rolling the shriveled point around her palm, kneading the whole of the breast with more force.



“I’m going to taste you now,” Lauren said, and her fingers walked back the way they had come, down across the abdomen with measured movements.



She tilted forward then, dipping her head to meet the flesh of her blonde friend just above the belly button, flicking her tongue with feathered strokes as she kissed and sucked gently upon the stomach, swirling her tongue around the belly button.



Kaylee squealed sharply with surprise, then giggled. “He came inside me,” she whispered.



Lauren lifted her head and grinned. “Yummy,” she said.



It would not be his first experience with multiple girls, but it would be his first since college, and for this reason foremost among others that Todd was not about to miss one second of what was taking place before him: the gorgeous redhead on her hands and knees, her shapely rump upturned in the air as she prepared to feast upon the pussy of the blonde, soaked with his own cum.



Lauren moved her tongue lower and traced the tip along the pattern of strawberry-blonde curls, her hands is constant motion now as she caressed her friend’s thigh, helping urge her legs even further apart. Slowly and with excruciating deliberateness, the redhead buried her moist limps in the willowy blonde’s pussy and probed the opening with her tongue, teasing her ferociously as Kaylee squirmed and writhed about beneath her.



She lapped at the pink folds before her with long languorous swipes of her tongue; Kaylee grunted and wiggled her hips, frustrated and desperately trying to get her friend to munch her faster. Her wish was granted: Lauren very suddenly roared forth, lashing her tongue across the silken opening.



Todd wondered just what the redhead thought of the taste of his cum, which was swirling around Kaylee’s insides and likely making much of its way into Lauren’s mouth, and as the thought struck he felt his cock twitching again, regaining its life. He took hold of it, stroking it to fullness as he watched the pornographic scene unfold before him, the blonde flat on her back being suckled by the redhead, the former writhing in pleasure and squeezing and tugging at her own breasts, the latter down on all fours with her round ass lewdly upturned and waggling about.



He watched as a glob of white cream oozed from Kaylee’s pretty pink pussy and into the redhead’s waiting mouth; the sight was undeniably nasty and extraordinarily erotic. Lauren closed her lips over the gaping hole of the blonde’s vagina and slurped loudly, sucking up every last ounce of his juice. She pulled away suddenly and looked at him, grinning, and her small pink tongue rolled out of her mouth, vulgarly displaying another big glob of sperm she had extracted. She giggled and swallowed the load, and then went back to licking and sucking away.



Although many men would be either paralyzed with uncertainty or contented with voyeurism when faced with two beautiful women in such a situation, Todd Coulter was not such a man; a wicked grin of his own spread over his face as he considered ways to tame the smoldering green-eyed strumpet who’d invaded his bed.



He slid off the mattress and crept around the edge of the bed, pumping his cock with his hand as he went, and moved in behind the dark redhead, who was so involved in her cunnilingus that she did not notice him there until he placed his strong hands on the supple cheeks of her bottom. He clutched her shapely rump with both hands and gave it a rough sort of squeeze, digging his fingertips into her flesh to jiggle the firm round globes.



Lauren’s head whipped around, red locks flying, and those brilliant green eyes locked on his, flashing angrily for a long moment before a vulgar grin split her face and she dove back into Kaylee’s delectable muff. She moaned loudly and deeply, and long as he spread her cheeks with his hands and brought the mushroom head of his swollen cock up to press against her rubbery pink lips, pursed and eager.



Todd had a wonderful view of Kaylee, too, from his position behind Lauren. Her eyes were shut and her head lolled back, and her upper body trembled in a delightful way that jiggled her breasts just enough to arouse him further, as if he needed any extra encouragement. Her eyes fluttered open and she saw him looking, and the smile she granted him was positively radiant.



“Fuck her good,” Kaylee told him, blue eyes sparkling.



He grinned. “Yes, ma’am, ” he said as he nudged his purple cockhead into the redhead’s blazing hot pussy, and a grunt followed swift on the heels of his words as her labia clamped down around it like a vice.



“Mmmmpphhhhh,” Lauren moaned, the words unintelligibly muffled by Kaylee’s nether regions.



Todd pushed himself further and further into the buxom redheaded vixen until finally the entire length of his cock was embedded deep within her womb, his balls stuffed hard up against her ass.



“Ahhhhh,” she sighed, momentarily losing all focus she might have had on her own ministrations.



“Hard,” Kaylee reminded him in that moment of pause, before her eyes fluttered shut again as her friend resumed her licking.



The words of the blonde were like kerosene on the fire of Todd’s loins; he took hold of Lauren by the ass once more and began slamming into her at breakneck speed. In and out, in and out, he drove his rigid throbbing shaft again and again into her velvety sheath, pummeling her.



While she did not begin as such what with a pussy shoved in her face, not surprisingly Lauren soon proved herself an incredibly vocal sexual partner; her muffled sound of passion increased as he steadily thrust himself in-and-out of her saturated depths, gripping her ass with both hands. With each stroke the pounding he gave her, however, grew a little harder and a little faster than the one prior to it, and he grew more brazen. His right hand lashed out and wrapped itself in locks of her dark red hair, and yanked her head back and off Kaylee’s pussy.



The blonde shrieked, her clitoris was no longer suckled, while Lauren growled as her back arched roughly and her head whipped back. She twisted her body, grinding her ass back on the cock currently impaling it, and shot a vicious glance back over her shoulder, green eyes like daggers.



“FUCK ME HARDER, LITTLE BOY!” she wailed.



Todd obliged, releasing his hold on her hair and resuming his doggie-style fucking of the redheaded strumpet with more force than he had even previously bestowed, hammering into her cunt as hard as he believed was humanly possible; if it were possible, he knew, he would be splitting her in two.



The woman screamed like a lust-wracked banshee, but still she buried her head back between the luscious legs of her blonde friend, lapping away and even adding a pair of fingers to the mix, stuffing them inside to the second knuckle.



Kaylee shrieked and clasped her thighs around Lauren’s head, and Todd watched as the blonde’s face ran the gamut of emotion as powerful contractions battered her body. He knew what was happening from his own personal experience with her; climax was striking her, and striking her fiercely. Her body writhed and quaked as she began to scream, tears of utter and extreme satisfaction filling her bright blue eyes, before those beautiful pools rolled back into her head and fluttered shut.



Lauren was simply amazing, it seemed; even as Todd continued to pummel the sweet-holy-fuck out of her, she managed to maintain her tongue-to-pussy worship, and maintain it well. She kept slurping away even after Kaylee’s climax subsided.



Todd realized she required something special to finish her off. He spat down into the crevice between the cheeks of Lauren’s bottom, the saliva trickling heavily over the compressed plot of the young woman’s anus. He clutched her quivering hips with his left hand and fucked her from behind with every brutal ounce of his being, her flesh rippling lewdly as he threw the whole of his strength into it, but his thoughts were now centered upon what his right hand was doing.



It slipped down into the crack of her ass and took up its special position, and without warning of any kind, Todd popped the pointer finger to the hilt inside her back door.



She froze instantly, and the sound that emerged then from the depths of the young woman’s throat in the subsequent moment was unlike any Todd had ever heard before. It was equal parts grunt, groan, moan, and scream, moving easily from one to the next, unending, unbroken.



Orgasm had come to the redhead named Lauren, and it had come ferociously.



Which proved the end of Todd, as well.



He growled wildly as he jammed his cock deep into the girl one last time before it simply exploded, and when it exploded, so too did she; her body quaked violently and did not stop, each limb twitching seemingly in its own direction.



“FFFUUUUCCCCCKKKKK!” Lauren screamed delightedly as his steaming cum flooded her insides, splashing across and over the walls of her inner sanctum. “OHHH MMYYYY FFFFUUCCCKKKKIINNGG GGGGGOOOOOOOODDDDDD!”



Todd growled again as he pumped glob after glob of heavy sperm into the redhead, and never did he pull his cock from her pussy or his finger from her ass. To his utter astonishment and almost painful pleasure his own orgasm lasted for nearly ten seconds before the last of his seed was emptied within her, although unsurprisingly again hers was still going. He leaned forward, his chest pressed into her back, and embraced her tightly as she continued her climax, and the fingers of his left hand slipped around her waist to knead the firm flesh of her breasts, even as his twisted the finger still deep in her bowels.



Her ass waggled as she screamed incessantly as she scaled the heights, limbs convulsing, until her violent tremors began to recede what seemed like an eternity later. She collapsed in a heap on the floor, taking him with her as she went, her face still stowed in the dripping port between Kaylee’s widespread thighs.



Todd slipped his shrinking cock from the sweetness of her cunt and the finger from the depths of her butt, and rolled to settle once more on his back on the bed. The sound of labored breathing was all that could be heard as the three tried to catching their collective breaths after such an experience.



“Let’s sleep together,” Kaylee suggested, her exhaustion evident in her voice even as a dazzling smile played over her face.



The girls snuggled closer and positioned themselves around him, a tangle of warm flesh and limbs. Todd lay in the middle, Kaylee’s voluptuous body pressed tightly to one side, Lauren’s warm nude form on the other. Two lovely female heads rested on his chest, his neck a swirled pool of strawberry-blonde and dark red hair. He could feel the mounds of their breasts against him, and the heat still emanating from their nether regions where their legs were draped over his.



It was a sublimely sensual position in which to have found himself, he thought.



“Thank you,” the voice of Kaylee whispered into the darkness, and the words were so soft and so genuine that Todd could not help but be moved. It was clear she was speaking about more than just sex.



“The pleasure was all mine,” he told her, squeezing her tenderly.



Lauren laughed. “Not true, stud,” she disagreed.



Kaylee and Todd laughed in unison, and the three young people cuddled closer together. Spent and exhausted, they drifted off to sleep.



* * *



His headache was exceptional, but somewhat more discomforting was the haziness of his memory regarding the previous night, as if a cloud had descended and enveloped his mind. He remembered drinking heavily at the first couple of bars, and then meeting a beautiful woman with dark red hair at the third, and that is where his mind began to go blank.



Which was terrible, really, as the girl had seemed very into him.



He took a long shower when he woke up, to cleanse himself of that uncomfortable morning-after feeling as much as possible; sleeping in your clothes while sprawled across the top of your bed only exacerbated that feeling, which is why he took his time beneath the warmth, soothing spray.



Breakfast consisted of a bowl of Cheerios and a yogurt, simple foods to help quell his lingering queasiness. It was going to be a slow day, he figured, as he recovered from the night out.



He was on the couch watching pro hockey when the door to Todd’s room opened and two women emerged, one a beautiful blonde, the other a gorgeous dark redhead, both freshly showered and dressed down in loose-fitting sweats that did not belong to them, and both familiar. The women were clutching a bundle of clothes, their own arms linked, smiling and giggling, and as they came into the living room and noticed him staring, a fresh round of giggles ensued; he picked his jaw up off the floor and closed his mouth.



“Hi, Ethan,” the redhead cooed as the girls sauntered past.



“Bye, Ethan!” the blonde chirped as the front door swung shut behind them.



It was just after the door closed, before Ethan had time to consider what exactly had just happened, when he heard movement behind him again and turned his head to find Todd trudging wearily from his bedroom, also dressed in sweats.



He sighed heavily as he fell onto the other couch. “Who’s playing?” he asked.



“Oilers-Maple Leafs,” Ethan responded automatically, then added, softly, reverently, “How do you do it, man? Seriously, how do you do it?”



Todd shrugged. “Kaylee, the blonde, was ready to go from the beginning,” he said, “but Lauren, the redhead, only joined after you passed out.” He grinned. “So, thanks!”



Ethan picked his jaw up a second time. “Shit,” he muttered.



“She’s a wild one, that girl,” Todd said with another sigh. “Kaylee was a sweetheart, though. I hope she dumps the prick she’s dating.”



“Why, you interested?”



Todd thought for a long moment. “She’s a sweet girl, yes, and beautiful, but I don’t think I’d be right for her. She needs a guy who will cherish her completely, treat her like a princess, all that jazz, and I don’t think I’d be capable of giving her everything she deserved.”



Ethan scoffed. “What do you mean, dude? You’re like the most chivalrous guy I know. Everyone knows when you date a girl, that’s exactly how you treat her.” He chuckled. “You just don’t date girls for longer than a couple of months.”



“I never want to lead a girl on,” Todd stated emphatically.



“But you’ve dated so many girls,” Ethan pressed. “All beautiful, and most of them sweet. What could you possibly be looking for that you haven’t already found?”



There was a long moment of silence as Todd considered the question, and there was a moment where Ethan actually thought he might get a straight answer. His roommate tended to keep his emotions guarded, his feelings hidden; perhaps it was one reason he could not find the right woman. The moment passed, however, and the familiar stone face returned once more.



“I don’t know,” Todd replied quietly, but it was clear he was holding something back.



Ethan shrugged. “Well, at least you can look forward to more women tomorrow night,” he said with a smile that rolled into a grimacing frown. “I’ll be in Socorro, New Mexico, by the way, so just go ahead and shoot me now.”



Todd grinned. “Bummer,” he said.



“Bummer, indeed,” Ethan agreed.



Todd rose to his feet. “I’ve got to get ready. I’m meeting my mom for lunch before work today. Have a good trip, bro.”



“Have a good time tomorrow night,” Ethan said with a sigh. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”



Todd chuckled. “You mean like pass out?” he called, and ducked into his bedroom just in time to avoid the couch pillow that went whizzing past.



Ethan sighed; his aim never had been very good.



* * *



He was passing the newsstand outside the restaurant when he saw her on the cover of Glamour. She turned up every so often in magazines, always when he was least expecting it, but never before had she managed to make her way onto a cover. She looked, as always, gorgeous.



He stopped, plucked the magazine from the rack, paid the vendor, and slipped it into his bag as neatly and carefully as he could. He would probably frame it later, when he got home; it’s not every day an old friend graces the cover of a major fashion magazine.



As he walked into the restaurant he considered the irony of seeing the magazine so soon after having such a serious conversation about his love life, one that skirted closer to the truth than ever before. Perhaps, he thought, the magazine was a sign; perhaps it was merely coincidence.



Perhaps.



Part 02: Three Tides



The pre-party was in full swing when Todd arrived, four guys in silly costumes getting sauced on vodka shots and Jägerbombs. Dwayne answered the door, grinning stupidly like the cat that got the cream. He was dressed in the red and blue tights of Superman, cape included, the first of their merry little band of superheroes.



“‘Bout time, my brother,” the excitable man gibed as the two slapped five. “You ready to get your drink on? Lots of pussy be out there to-night!”



Todd chuckled. “If you say so, bro,” he said. “Nice cape.”



Dwayne puffed out his chest. “Don’t you fuck with Superman, son,” he warned, “or Superman’ll bust you up!”



“You’d have to catch me first,” Todd noted with a grin.



“Funny man,” Dwayne said. “No one told me you were so funny. Enough jokes, funny man. Get your ass back to the bar and get yourself liquored up!”



It was funny, of course, because of what Todd was wearing: dressed in yellow boots, a yellow belt, a bright red eye-mask, and covered from neck to ankle in a red spandex bodysuit with a lightning bolt across his chest, Todd was the spitting image of the iconic comic book character known as the Flash.



He rolled up to the bar and poured himself a vodka-based concoction, and sucked down half the glass before turning to face the room again. Just in time, nicely enough, to watch another pair of superheroes enter from the back rooms: Terrance Hawk, blonde-haired and blue-eyed, and Mike Gregory, tall and handsome with deep gray eyes to nearly match Todd’s own. Both men were mid-twenties and friends of Dwayne through soccer, and Todd had hung out with them on many occasions before. He was glad to see Mike, whom he had not seen in some time; the man had been going through a rough patch after his long-term relationship ended.



“Nice,” Todd said approvingly as they approached: Terrance was dressed as Green Lantern, Mike as Spiderman. Neither was wearing their masks yet, but both costumes looked pretty good.

“I look ridiculous,” Mike said with a wry smile, “although I guess it won’t be too bad with the five of us all looking ridiculous together.”



Another side door opened then and their fifth companion emerged from the guest bathroom: Jerome Wimbley, Dwayne’s brother, wore only a pair of ripped purple pants, but the entirety of his bare upper body was painted a bright shade of green.



“Say hello to the world’s first black Hulk, bitches!” Jerome exclaimed as he flexed his arms.



Two melon balls and three Jägerbombs later, not to mention a great deal of friendly shit-talking, the five friends were on their way to the night’s main event: a massive house party in an affluent, isolated suburb of the city. As the youngest member of the bunch and little brother to Dwayne, Jerome was the designated driver and had not been allowed to previously drink. All bets were off, however, once the real party started; each guy was responsible for his own ride home.



“Ripe for the taking, my friends,” Terrance said with scarcely concealed excitement as they arrived at the house, which had a massive front driveway and very expansive grounds. It also happened to be crawling with people.



“I give it until midnight,” Mike said as he fumbled with his Spiderman mask, and Todd was not sure it would last even that long, not with the noise generated by the crowd and music; the cops were almost sure to bust the thing up, and soon.



Terrance was their point-person at the party; old friends, it seemed, with one of the party organizers, so the five of them were lucky enough the bypass the teeming front door and enter via the side gate around the side of the house, which was not nearly as crowded.



The backyard was magnificent: sprawling grounds, a massive rock-formation swimming pool, three gazebos, etc. The house was one of the best houses from a party design standpoint that Todd could ever remember seeing.



That, and it was chalk full of beautiful women in ridiculously revealing outfits.



In the short span of time it took them to procure some cocktails and take position at one edge of the pool, Todd saw three slutty Charlie’s Angels, two topless belly dancers with pasties over their nipples, the hottest and dirtiest group of Pink Ladies imaginable, a Lara Croft look-a-like with massive breasts, a slutty referee, two slutty candy stripers, and even, interestingly enough, a pair of slutty superheroes. Truly, it was an abundance of beauty on an unparalleled scale.



It did not take long for Dwayne and Jerome to splinter off from the group; the brothers were insatiable in their pursuit of new and varied female flesh, which was in great supply at the moment, uninhibited and unashamed.



Which left Todd and Terrance and Mike together, which was totally fine by Todd; after a long week of work and the marathon sex session on Thursday night, he was perfectly happy to take it easy and lay low for the duration of the party. He would sit back and enjoy the scenery, as it were.



“I’m not looking for much tonight,” he told the other two men as he gulped down a liberal helping of his drink, some sort of rum-based concoction. “I’ve been hitting it too hard lately.”



Terrance rolled his eyes. “You’re taking it easy?” he asked. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”



Todd grinned. The last couple of times he and Terrance had partied together, there had been significant drinking and many females involved, but that was more the exception than the norm where Todd was concerned. He was about to say so, too, but in the next moment his night turned completely on a dime.



“Don’t look now,” the masked man said quietly with a nod back over Todd’s shoulder.



Todd turned . . . and nearly choked on his drink.



An exceptional woman was approaching, her body on tremendous display; playing the part of a swimwear beauty pageant contestant, she wore nothing more than a skimpy silver bikini with a shimmery silver sash labeled Miss California looping down between her breasts.



Which happened to be perhaps the most incredible breasts anyone had ever seen, full and round and totally real, and larger than most woman with fake tits were likely to have.



She was strikingly beautiful with shoulder-length brunette hair as shimmery as her sash and a mouth-watering figure to match her deliciously large breasts, not to mention light milk chocolate skin without blemish of any kind, anywhere. She moved with grace and confidence, hips swaying, breasts jiggling, and the gazes of all men within sight of her followed her each and every movement with scarcely concealed desire.



Todd, of course, saw none of this; he was looking into her eyes as she approached, vividly bright and flawlessly brown, for they were eyes he remembered. He remembered how they looked when she laughed, how they watered when she cried, how they smoldered when she burned, and how they fluttered when she crested. He remembered all of those things, and more.



“Vanessa?” he said incredulously, not believing what he was seeing.



Her face, while even more gorgeous than ever before, split into a devilish sort of grin that was very familiar. “Aren’t you strapping?” she cooed. “Hi, Todd. It’s been awhile.”



It took more than a moment for him to respond, which was unusual. He was very good with words and very good with women, but this was the woman at the top of his list, the dream, the memory, his biggest and only regret. He could feel how wide his eyes were and struggled to regain his composure.



“Two years,” he said finally. “Are you . . . are you back?”



A touch of sadness flickered over her face, even as she smiled. “No,” she said, and he felt a sudden weight settle upon him, “just passing through. I’ve got a week-long shoot starting next week. I was hoping I’d run into you. I just didn’t know it would happen this soon. I’ve only been in town since this morning.”



Todd opened his mouth, then remembered Mike and Terrance were still with them. He looked over at his friends and grinned, more than a little sheepishly. “You guys mind if I bail?” he asked, then turned to look at his former flame with as much intensity as he could muster. “Vanessa and I go way back and we . . . have some unfinished business to discuss.”



Terrance spoke first. “No sweat, dude,” he said, to which Mike added, “Go right ahead.”



Which is how Todd found himself taking the hand of Vanessa Dorsey for the first time in more than two-and-one-half years, the small, warm, and delicate hand he knew so very well, and leading her away from the hubbub, away from the din, for a conversation long overdue.



* * *



It was something that had been happening to her since she was a kid: a tickling in the back of her mind that let her know something significant was close to happening. Her grandmother called it her intuition, her mother called it her gut, but she herself always thought of it as her soul sense.



Which is why when Vanessa stepped off the plane and the hairs on the back of her neck rose and the beat of her heart quickened and the goose bumps followed soon thereafter, she knew her time in the city of her collegiate days, a city she had not, surprisingly, visited for more than two years, was going to be significant in some way she could not foresee. Her soul sense told her so.



She was escorted swiftly from the plane to the limousine, and then to her hotel where a team of publicists, stylists, and executives were waiting for a series of events, including three separate interview sessions with reporters. Her management team, it seemed, was not wasting the opportunity to put her name out there, now that she was on the cover of a popular fashion magazine.



She finally settled down toward the middle of the afternoon after almost five hours of business, and it was only then that she checked the messages on her cell phone, of which there were several. There was only one, however, that she truly cared about.



“Hey, sexy!” the female voice leaving the message chirped. “Long time, no see. I’m so excited you’re back in town, we absolutely have to get together and catch up. I don’t know what your schedule is like, probably crazy, but there’s a big party tonight and it’d be so cool if you could come, just like old times, you know? We could do dinner first, if you like, if you’ve got time. I’ve missed you, Vee, so much, and I know I’m not the only one. I really want to see you. Call me.”



Adrienne Cooley had been one her best friends in college, and while the two had tried to keep in touch somewhat since graduation, the whirlwind of her modeling life had made it difficult for Vanessa to stay in close contact with anyone. Adrienne was one of the few she regretted not seeing for so long.



Which is why her phone call with Adrienne lasted nearly two hours, much longer than she had anticipated it would, but she did not care. There was so much to talk about, so much to hear, so much to say, that even after so long they still had not gotten through everything.



“You have to come tonight, Vee!” Adrienne bubbled into the phone.



Vanessa sighed. “I’d like to, but I don’t know. It’s been a long day and I don’t have a costume, and I’m kind of tired, and . . . “



“. . . and it sounds like you’ve got every reason in the book not to come,” Adrienne interrupted with a giggle, “which is why I know you’re coming! I’ve got a Miss California sash in my closet; just throw on a bikini and go as a beauty contestant. The guys at the party will go nuts!”



Vanessa sighed, but could not fight back a smile. “Ok, sweetie,” she said finally. “Pick me up at the hotel and we’ll do dinner, and then we’ll see about this party of yours.”



The squeal on the other end of the line nearly cracked the windows in Vanessa’s room. “Oh my god! I’m so excited! Me and Vee, together again at last! Can’t wait!”



Which is how Vanessa came to be standing beneath a gazebo in the backyard of a huge house, surrounded by Halloween partygoers, sipping her fourth glass of wine of the night, and feeling quite buzzed and happy with herself. The fact that the two of them had been beating guys off with a stick all night long had not dampened her spirits; in fact, it was kind of fun.



“Thanks for bringing me, Adri,” she said quietly as she squeezed her friend’s satin-covered arm.



Adri was dressed as a slutty horse jockey: black boots and white spandex pants; a purple-and-black checkered mini-crop-top riding jacket that showed off her entire stomach and deep cleavage, long sleeves and made of satin; a purple riding cap; and a long black riding crop, which Vanessa’s bottom had felt the sting of more than a few times since they arrived.



“Thanks for coming, Vee,” the girl replied, equally as soft, and the two shared a warm and heartfelt embrace. “We’ve got to make sure we do a better job over the next couple of years.”



“Definitely,” Vanessa agreed.



“Oh my god,” Adrienne whispered suddenly, and Vanessa, suddenly concerned, opened her mouth to ask what was wrong . . . and that was when she saw him, too.



“Oh my god,” she breathed, mirroring the words of her friend. There was a long moment of silence, and then she added, “Adri . . .?”



Adrienne cut her off. “Go,” her friend said simply, “and don’t worry about me. I have, like, twenty friends here who are pissed that I’m ignoring them. I’ll be fine. Go talk to him.”



Her first steps as she crossed the distance between them were as shaky as she could ever remember being, which, for someone trained to walk the high-pressure catwalks in Paris and Milan, was really saying something. Her poise grew with every stride, however, and by the time he turned and saw her coming, she was moving with every ounce of confident femininity she had, and then some.



He looked exactly as she remembered, straight dark hair, chiseled jaw, stocky physique, everything as it was in her memories, right down to his storm cloud eyes. He was dressed like a superhero in a red bodysuit, which she found extremely amusing, which helped, but still the fluttering of the butterflies in her stomach intensified as she neared.



“Vanessa?” he choked, his incredulity genuine.



He was so cute when he was flustered, and from what she remembered it was also almost impossible to fluster him, which made success that much more enjoyable. She grinned and replied in her sweetest, most sensual voice, playing it cool, “Aren’t you strapping? Hi, Todd. It’s been awhile.”



His eyes were wide in the long moment before he responded. She wondered, fleetingly, just before his words came, if she had played it too cool.



“Two years,” he said finally. “Are you . . . are you back?”



It was the question she knew he would ask, and the answer she did not want to give. “No,” she replied with regret, “just passing through. I’ve got a week-long shoot starting next week. I was hoping I’d run into you. I just didn’t know it would happen this soon. I’ve only been in town since this morning.”



He took a moment to truly digest her words, then glanced over at his two superhero friends. “You guys mind if I bail?” he asked, then turned back to look at her, and the look he gave her then was one of the most intense things she had ever seen. “Vanessa and I go way back and we . . . have some unfinished business to discuss.”



The guy dressed in green said, “No sweat, dude,” while Spiderman added a moment later, “Go right ahead.”



And when he took her delicate hand in his for the first time in so very long, and she felt the strength of his grip and the safety and surety it promised, rough and tender wrapped into one, Vanessa knew she was exactly where she wanted to be.



* * *



The house was sizable and it took them some time to find an adequate and available room. In the end, they moved upstairs, where an out-of-the-way door yielded a small study where the walls were lined with shelves and the shelves were lined with books, and there was some degree of quiet. There was also a desk and a chair, and a small leather two-seater couch, and French doors leading out to a balcony, shielded greatly by the trees from where it overlooked a portion of the backyard.



They sat upon the couch, next to each other but not touching save for their clasped hands, and there was very little spoken for long moments as each collected their thoughts. Until their eyes met, his grays and her browns, and they chuckled in unison as the first of three tides of tension broke.



“How’ve you been?” he asked, and while simple, it was enough of a beginning.



“Fine,” she told him. “Busy.”



He nodded, but he did not know why; she had not asked a question. He was moderately unsettled, which was unusual. “You look fantastic,” he told her, saying the right thing, “and yet, you look exactly the same.”



“You, too,” she said with a shy smile. “Do you feel any different, with so much time passed?”



He thought for a moment. “No,” he admitted, “I feel like I’m the same guy. Just two years older and a little smarter, I guess.”



It was her turn to nod. “Me, too. Amazing, isn’t it? I would not have thought two years could pass so quickly. Nor,” she added of her own accord, not even seeing the flicker of hurt that passed across his eyes, “that it could take so long.”



“The days blur,” he said with a shrug, brushing past. “I know the feeling.”



She smiled. “Not like college,” she said quietly, and he chuckled for the second time.



“No,” he agreed. “I miss those days.”



She took a chance. “I miss the last one most of all.”



It registered clearly on his face. “The last day,” he breathed, remembering. “It’s haunted me for two-and-a-half years.” He looked away, then down at his hands.



She heard the truth in his voice. “Why didn’t you call?” she asked, suddenly wanting, needing to know. “I would have answered.”



He turned to her then, his eyes as dark as the storm clouds and twice as wild, and said, “I wrote you letters, but never heard back. We spoke three times those first four months, but only when I tracked you down. London? Florence? Paris? I could never find you.”



She lowered her gaze. “It happened so fast,” she said softly. “One minute, I’m in a room with seven other girls, trying to be noticed, and the next I’m on a private jet with the head of the agency and a team of professional publicists.” She stopped, and lifted her gaze again. “I never knew you wrote me. I never got your letters.”



It is difficult to say whether the two would have gotten past this particular moment, this particular tide of tension, without assistance of some kind. The situation was tenuous; emotions progressed swiftly, the by-product of long months of what if wondering and reverie. She was vulnerable and wanting, but scared and exposed in a way she had never really been before; her defenses were fast assembling. He was hurt and still somewhat shocked, and uncertain, none of which were even remotely commonplace; his barriers were nearly erected. Two years and a lifetime teetered on the brink, though neither could know it.



Which is why it could be seen by some as greatly fortuitous that they were interrupted in that moment: the door of the study burst open to admit a pair of half-naked young people utterly wrapped up in themselves, kissing and fumbling and panting.



He was blonde-haired and handsome, and well-built, which was easy to note since he was clothed only in a pair of blue jeans with his upper body bare. She was gorgeous, with bouncy brunette hair and an awesome body, stuffed at present into a short, skin-tight purple dress with accessorizing purple boots and a green scarf. If they had been costumed, as was likely the case, it seemed pieces of their costumes were missing.



His hands snaked beneath the bottom of her dress and clutched at the girl’s bottom, giving Todd and Vanessa an excellent view of two curvy white cheeks and the purple thong between them, and in the next instant the girl had vaulted up onto him, wrapping her legs around his mid-section, his hands still cupping her ass to support her.



They stumbled across the room, necking furiously, until they collided with the wall on the opposite side, scattering several books in the process. They were completely oblivious, it seemed, to the fact that there were others in the room.



It was Vanessa’s muffled giggle, given only when the man’s fingers slipped inside the purple thong at its most important place, that alerted them.



They spun around, her dropping to her feet in the process and pulling down her skirt, his eyes roaming the dim light of the room before settling on the figures of the couch. He looked fazed for only a moment, before his face split into a sheepish grin full of straight, pearly white teeth.



“Sorry, folks,” he said. “We didn’t know this one was taken.”



Todd waved a hand. “No worries, bro,” he said, and meant it.



The girl was less thrilled. She grabbed the guy’s hand with a huff and made for the door, making no eye contact and giving no apologies. She was either very rude or very embarrassed, and likely a bit of both. Her man, however, seemed quite amiable, his grin never faltering as he was dragged out of the room.



“Have a good time!” he called, throwing a big thumbs up as he passed through the door.



Todd and Vanessa looked at each other and broke out laughing as the second tide passed.



“Maybe I should . . . ” he began.



“. . . close the door,” she finished, still smiling, “definitely.”



He rose and went to the door, closed and bolted it; there would be no further interruptions. He returned to the couch to find her looking up at him with wide, expressive brown eyes. They were beautiful, her eyes, so bright, so passionate, and deep enough for a man to drown in.



“I remember those days,” she whispered, not talking about their youth.



He took a seat, closer than he had been before, close enough to reach up and stroke her cheek. He did not, but his hands ached to do so. “We waited so long,” he said softly.

“Too long,” she agreed. “I was scared of what would happen. I never told you how much you meant to me.”



He swallowed, hard. “I was afraid of losing you,” he told her, then added after an honest moment with himself, “and of being with you, too. I was too . . . unprepared. If I knew then what I know now . . .”



He trailed off, unsure of what to say, unsure of how it would be received. It was a moment played over and over in the quiet spaces of his mind, the moments in-between: what he would say to Vanessa Dorsey if ever he was to speak to her again. He knew exactly what he wanted to say, but no idea how to say it.



“You would what?” she urged, her voice low and eager and anxious, almost pleading. This was the third and final tide of tension, and everything hinged on him, and he knew it.



He met her gaze square and said the defining words of his life. “I would have grabbed you and taken you, and marked you as my own.”



Her eyes were so bright. “Then do it,” she whispered, and that was all he needed.



Thirty months melted away as they came together in that moment, hands and bodies and lips and tongues. There was little rhyme or reason in their movements, at first; after so long, they simply could not touch each other fast enough. Soon, however, they rediscovered the right rhythms. It was not hard, not frenzied, but nor was it soft and measured; each knew what they wanted, and took it with little fumbling.



She stripped him in no time, the spandex of his costume peeling away to reveal the muscles of his physique, and she spent particular time tracing the ridges with her fingers and palms. She loved the feel of his body, loved the strength and firmness she found there, and she could feel herself getting soaked.



The evidence of her desire also had much to do with what he was doing; he wasted little time delving his own hands under the cups of her bikini top, clutching and squeezing and kneading her breasts, before removing the flimsy material completely to expose them in full. His lips left her mouth and dipped to the crest, closing over her shriveled nipples to suckle delightedly.



Vanessa giggled and wiggled out of his grasp, stepping back with her hands on her hips and a defiant sass to her stance. Her body was fantastic, with curves and tone in all the desired places, and displayed totally but for the skimpy bikini bottom.



“I’m hungry,” she purred, and an image flashed before his eyes of a moment years earlier, etched now forever in his mind, when she murmured those exact same words . . . and the glory that followed.



She stepped forward then and leaned in close to him, running her hands up his body, her face scant inches from his own. He did not move, did not speak, knowing she wanted what was coming to be hers, and hers alone. She was close enough to kiss him, but did not, redirecting herself to slither down his body to her knees.



She reached out and took hold of his aching cock, thick and hard and just as wonderful as she remembered, and he moaned as she wrapped her cool fingers, one by one, around the shaft, and squeezed it. Her other hand followed, and soon she was rubbing his erection gently in both directions as if rubbing at fire sticks.



And then she took him into her mouth.



Her bright brown eyes twinkled as she gazed up at him and her lips were moist with anticipation as they parted, and enveloped him. Her tongue roamed over his cock, basting every inch, rolling over it like ripples across the surface of the water. Her hands continued to stroke the base, tugging at it, pulling on it, stretching it tight.



She wasted no time getting his testicles involved; her mouth dropped lower and teased them lovingly, running the tip of her tongue along the wrinkles of his scrotum, and he moaned. She grinned, loving the power she had, and lapped at his balls before sucking first one, then the other between her lips.



She glanced up and caught his eye, and held his gaze as she raised her face and slowly pressed the flat of her tongue against the underside of his shaft. Starting with the base, she slurped a wet stripe from end to end, rounding over the top and closing her soft lips around the head, holding there, the mushroom tip held in her mouth like the candy of a tootsie pop.



Which, of course, she suckled.



Hard.



A guttural groan burst from his throat as he took hold of the sides of her head, trailing his fingers through the luxurious locks of her hair, urging her onward as she took more of his meat into her mouth. Vanessa purred with pleasure and willingly complied; he remembered how fond she was of fellatio, in addition to being talented.



And so she began to bob her head up and down, taking his cock deeper and deeper with every stroke, her luscious lips stretched around his shaft. It was only moments before the purple head of his cock nudged against the back of her throat, even as her nose tickled his pubic hair; she very nearly had him completely inside her mouth. He had only two inches left before she finished the job.



The beautiful young woman bobbed her head up and back again, and this time instead of pausing he felt something in her mouth give way, and heard her swallow as the head of his cock slipped down further . . . into the depths of her throat.



Todd growled as she held him there, her tongue flittering as best it could around the shaft stuffed inside her mouth, her lips smacking at the base even as her hand came up to massage his balls. She suckled him faster then, harder and faster than she had before, and all the elements of her barrage came into play: lips, tongue, mouth, fingers, palms, throat.



It was designed to finish him, the crescendo of her symphony of suck, and it did.



He growled once more to let her know, and in the next moment his body tightened and his cum poured forth into her mouth as like from a geyser, spurting into the roof and splashing down into her throat. She sucked it down eagerly, taking what he gave her in gulps, and she loved the feeling of his thick liquid as it filled her mouth. Her lips lingered on his shaft, sliding up and down with tender care as it cleansed all remnants of the sticky-sweet cum, though the mushroom head never left its enclosure, and would not until every drop was gone.



His fingers eased their way through her hair, stroking softly, and she gazed up into his grateful eyes as her tongue lapped at his softened penis to its leisurely contentment, purring and teasing the limp appendage, and in short order, despite its fatigue from such a recent ejaculation, it began to stiffen once again, and she giggled with her lips wrapped around its girth.



Todd groaned and lifted her chin with an outstretched finger, drawing her gaze up to his, so that she was looking right into his eyes, and understanding the intensity there, when he spoke for the first time in a long time.



“My turn,” he said huskily, and pulled her roughly to her feet.



She nodded obediently, and waited.



She did not wait long; his hand slid down her body and plucked aside her bikini bottoms, and his finger slipped deep inside her without warning. She whimpered and felt her legs tremble, but her knees held and did not buckle. Her head dropped back and she nibbled her bottom lip, and her eyes fluttered as that finger began exploring her insides, expertly twisting and turning, and caressing her from the inside out.



“I’m hungry,” he breathed, echoing her words, and with that his hands took hold of her and spun her around, shoving her shoulders forward to bend her over the nearest waist-high table.



His hand slid down the track of her spine and took hold of her flesh at the curve of her bottom, and reveled in it, before rising up her back and around her neck to take hold, roughly and with its whole palm, of her throat. She felt exposed and vulnerable, and helpless, but he was moving so fast that she could hardly think straight. He tugged at the strings of her bikini bottoms and let them fall away, deftly relieving her of the rest of her ensemble, leaving her nude.



“Spread,” he ordered simply, and Vanessa spread her legs obediently.



He pushed her down against the surface of the table, her breasts squished into the cold surface. She lost sight of him, could not see what was happening, which is why she squealed when she felt him fingering her sex once again. She squirmed, but he held her down; he was in control.



She was bent over and displayed, and she loved it.



“Taste me,” she begged him, and could not see him grin.



* * *



Bent over at ninety degrees with her upper half squished against the table and her legs locked at the knees, completely and gloriously nude, the buxom supermodel looked like a porn star placed in the prime position to allow the audience viewing of her nether region, and it was an eyeful. A thin swatch of dark hair, neatly trimmed in a triangle small enough to hide beneath the tiniest bikini, sat just below the actual pink of her vagina, which was hairless. Her rubbery lips were pressed tightly together, pursed so very preciously, and juice coated the whole of her folds, even as it dribbled slowly from the slit.



When she begged, Todd felt the devil within him take over. He crouched behind her and spread the smooth round orbs of her bottom, his face eye-level and inches from one of the most perfect, upside-down heart shaped rumps in existence.



“Please!” she whimpered, wiggling her behind, aching for his tongue.



And so he gave it to her, burying his head deep between her legs, smothering his face in her wet pink folds, peppering her sacred skin with a series of sweet kisses. He wasted no motion; he sucked and tongued her clitoris, gaining intensity until he was going completely and utterly to town, his face smashed into her, his nose pressed up against her anus.



His hands did not idle, either, grabbing and squeezing the firm cheeks of her bottom, jiggling them even as he slavered over her pussy. He covered as much ground as he could, trailing his tongue up from her clit to the skin between her pussy and anus, then dropping to lance once more into her vaginal crevice to tongue-fuck her fiercely.



Vanessa squealed and her hips began to tremble, and the whimpers grew more pronounced as the beginnings of her first orgasm barreled towards her. She began babbling, “Yes . . . oh yes . . . fuck . . . yes . . . eat me . . . fuck . . . eat me . . . ahhh . . . uunnhhh . . . fuck!”



Then he stopped, and memory slipped to the surface from the silent depths.



She moaned and cried, “No! Don’t stop!”



Todd grinned and gave her what she wanted, with a twist. He spread the cheeks of her bottom again, wider and farther even than before, and offered her crinkled pink anus a languorous swipe with the flat of his tongue.



Vanessa screamed, and the sound only rebounded and her knees nearly buckled when his tongue pushed into her tight anus and wiggled around. His memory, it seemed, had served him well: she loved it, and began to shriek and scream even louder than he might have ever thought possible, and the torrent of dirtiness she unleashed upon him then would have shocked even the saltiest sailors, and did not relent.



“OHHHHH! DIRTY FUCKING BOY! LICKING MY ASS! NASTY! FUCK! NASTY BOY! EAT MY ASS YOU FUCKING FUCKER! YES! YES! YES!”



His hands continued working over her flesh as his tongue danced around her puckered hole, teasing every wrinkle. He alternated slow to fast, fast to slow, long and short as he lapped at her backdoor, and she groaned.



“OHHHHHHH . . . DDIIIIIRRRTTYYY BBBOOOOOYYY . . . AAHHHHHHHH!”



He brought up his thumb to strum her clitoris, even as his lips slid over the puckered plot and sucked at the crinkled skin, and she whimpered and quaked, and then contorted violently when his tongue speared into her dark depths. Todd had to struggle to keep his tongue in place as the ferocious climax struck her.



And went on for quite some time.



She was cursing as it took her, cursing him and cursing her own pleasure, and the heavens and hell and all spaces between, and as she cursed she shook and shivered, and through it all Todd continued to eat her glorious ass. When she was finished, when she was spent, coming down from the orgasm that had so decimated her, limbs quivering, body slumped across the table, he disengaged his face, rose to his feet, and leaned over her.



“Get ready,” he told her.



* * *



His breath was hot in her ear and her eyes fluttered open, thinking she must have misunderstood him. Her magnificent orgasm, brought unbelievably to life by the feel of his tongue in her ass, had yet to fully fade and her body was weak, and would need a little more time to recover.



And then she felt something thick and hard pressed against the lips of her pussy, parting the glistening, still-twitching folds, but not entering. She gasped and wiggled her bottom, although whether to get herself away or urge him further she could not really say; her mind was spinning so fast she could hardly comprehend anything. His hand, however, came down in the center of her back, pinning her firmly in place, and it was clear what his intentions were.



Todd shoved, and the world exploded before Vanessa’s eyes. He slammed into her, burying himself to the hilt, and her fingers clawed at the edge of the table to hold on for dear life. He furiously pumped his cock in and out, in and out of her pussy, as his hand took hold of her gorgeous brunette hair as if it was reins.



Her pussy quaked again almost instantly, another orgasm coming swift on the heels of her last. Even through the veil of amazing pleasure, however, the spinning and the haze, memory tickled the mind of Vanessa Dorsey, and she was taken back to a night some years before, the night she and Todd Coulter came together for the first time.



She remembered his strength and his confidence, and the sexiness of what it meant to feel truly dominated and manipulated by a man who knew what he was doing, and who cared. Impossibly, the Todd Coulter of before could not hold a candle to the Todd Coulter at present, who was still strong and still confident, and still sexy as hell, but who oozed skill and know-how out his every pore, and knew exactly what he was doing.



And on that thought she climaxed yet again, and thus began the fiercest and most awesome orgasm of Vanessa’s life.



She wailed as the juice flooded from her ravaged cunt, and her body quaked and rocked all over again, but this time Todd did not relent. He fucked her hard, without slowing, without stopping, and it was exactly what she wanted. This first round between them needed to be hard and rough, the sluicing away of all their pent-up need, their years apart, and she felt him pound out upon her each and every moment of their absence. She savored every inch of him, every sweet and glorious inch as he plugged away, the muscles of her contracting vagina clenching and milking him as she came.



She was absolutely on fire, her limbs and flesh aflame, the blood coursing like molten lava through her veins. She was a blubbering mess, no longer capable of coherent speech.



And then he popped his thumb into her ass, and Vanessa screamed.



She screamed, and the world heard her, the heavens heard her, and there was nothing and everything in the world but the cock in her pussy and the thumb in her ass. The scream echoed off the book-lined walls and likely drifted through to the ground below, and Vanessa gave small thanks for loud speakers.



And in the midst of her own titanic orgasm, Todd grunted and told her what was coming, and she swooned as she felt wave after wave of his fuck syrup flow into her womb, packing it full, and her knees nearly buckled. Juice and sticky residue oozed from her pussy and trickled down her legs. There was so much pleasure, so much trembling and quivering and ecstasy, she could hardly stand it.



And then she could not: incredibly, she blacked out.



She came to a short time later. He was slumped across the desk next to her, and instantly she felt the void in her pussy where his cock had been.



It was long moments before either said anything, the silence broken only by the muffled thumping of the bass from speakers somewhere beyond and the ragged breathing of the re-acquainted young lovers. In the end, however, it was Vanessa who spoke first.



“My place,” she asked with a languorous grin, stretching her arms above her head, “or yours?”



* * *



It was ridiculous, his travel schedule sometimes. He was reminded of the old theory about how monkeys typing at random on a keyboard would eventually type out the complete works of Shakespeare; the travel department for his company was like that, only the monkeys were sitting behind a desk, typing out his travel itinerary, and not once did Shakespeare enter the equation. He must have reminded himself one hundred times en route back to Los Angeles just how much money they paid him to make these pointless little trips, which helped comfort him some.



Some, but not much.



His morning had consisted of a four in the morning wake-up call, a cup of coffee, an hour-long drive, check-in at the airport, a seven-twenty flight, and an eight-thirty arrival, followed by baggage claim and a twenty-minute cab ride back home. He walked through the door to his apartment at nine-ten on the dot, more than six hours (considering the time change) after his trip began, dropped his bag by the door, stripped off his jacket, and plopped onto the couch. He did not plan on moving from that spot for several hours.



His plan did not last long.



The door to Todd’s room opened, as it was prone to do on Sunday mornings, and a woman emerged, also as it was prone to do, but this particular time it not just any woman: this woman was one of the most breathtaking creatures he had ever seen. She was African-American, which was unusual, and gorgeous, which was not.



The effects of the morning were clear: ruffled hair, lazy movements, a slight yawn, but all only served to enhance her lushness in some unspeakable way, not detract from it. She was wearing one of Todd’s long-sleeve button-down shirts, the kind with the rounded hem, which displayed a great deal of leg. Her bright brown eyes sparkled.



“Hi,” she said in a honeyed voice. “I’m Vanessa.”



“Ethan,” he stammered. “Todd’s roommate.”



She smiled. “I hope we didn’t make too much noise last night. I can be a little . . . loud.”



“No,” he croaked, then cleared his throat. “Sorry, I just got in myself, so . . .”



Her smile slipped into a mischievous grin. “Oh, I see. Get lucky last night, Ethan?” she cooed.



He realized with a start that he had been staring. “No!” he exclaimed, a little too vigorously, and she laughed. It was not his fault for staring, really; it was clear she was not wearing a bra and the shirt was white and moderately sheer.



She turned and walked into the kitchen. He watched her go, not worrying about staring when she was facing away from him, and in the next moment was extremely happy about it: she reached the refrigerator and opened it, and bent over to retrieve something from a lower shelf, which tugged the shirt up just enough to reveal the lower half of her bottom, tight, toned, and gloriously bare. It was a peek at heaven, a peek at perfection, and Ethan was instantly jealous of his roommate, who had no doubt enjoyed the delights of that posterior for much of the previous evening.



When she rose she was carrying a bottle of water, as well as that same mischievous grin. “You can close your mouth now, Ethan,” she said with a laugh as she floated back down the hallway, and with a wink, disappeared through the door.



Ethan sighed and rose slowly from the couch, his plans forever altered. He was suddenly in need of a long shower, preferably as cold as he could make it.



* * *



She crept into the room quietly, still chuckling to herself over her encounter with his roommate, to find him sleeping soundly in bed, the covers down by his waist, the strong and muscular contours of his back clearly visible even in the soft shadows of the room.

She still had trouble believing it.



When she learned she was headed to Los Angeles, she knew there was a good chance she would see him. She would have to initiate it, she knew, which unsettled her, but her desire to see him again was so powerful she knew she would overcome her fears. Not even in her wildest dreams, however, did she think she would come across him by happenstance on her first night back, nor that she would end up sharing his bed as if no time had ever passed between them.



They lingered for some time in the study, talking, laughing, reveling in the afterglow. She remembered how much fun pillow talk was with him, how engaging and charming he was at a time when many men ran for the door or nose-dove the pillow. They spoke of their lives in the years post-college, of their families and friends, and while they steered clear of talk regarding recent romances, they covered almost everything else.



Adrienne was long gone by the time they made it downstairs, shacked up with some hot young stud. Her last text message some ninety minutes before had read: taking hottie home call if u need me good luck xoxo. Same old Adri, she thought with a grin.



Which meant a cab ride was in order, something Vanessa was not too familiar with in recent months, having been escorted around by limousine much of the time, one of the biggest perks of a fashion model lifestyle.



She brought a hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle as she remembered what the cab ride was like. Basically, her hands were all over him the second they got inside, culminating with her slipping her head down into his lap to suckle him up to a raging erection. She was not a blowjob girl, so to speak, but she remembered how much she enjoying getting him hard with her mouth. She did not know why, but there was something about him (and him alone) that turned her into a slut, and she loved that about him.



She was amazed, thinking back, at what had come over her in such a short span of time. She was not predisposed to sexual exhibition, and yet here she was, just one night after seeing him again, and already she had been fucked in a strange room in a strange house, given a blowjob in the back of a cab, and flashed her ass at a random guy.



Slut, indeed, it seemed.



There had been more sex when they got to his apartment, this time on the bed with all the trimmings and positions such a setting allowed. It was rough and soft by turns, him leading when he rolled between her legs, her leading when she straddled his waist, the two taking turns when she rose to her hands and knees with him behind her. It was soft and loving, hard and thrilling, and everything in-between.



It was her and Todd, together again.



She stripped off her shirt, thankful she had chosen to worn it while retrieving a bottled water from the fridge; flashing her bottom was one thing, but flashing her entire body was quite another. She was a model, yes, which was required her to wear very little clothing and, in some cases, change clothes in front of strange men, but work was an entirely different situation and she did, in fact, have standards when it came to such things.



She slipped beneath the covers, feeling instantly his warmth, and snuggled up next to him, flesh against flesh, draping herself across him. It was where, she realized suddenly and with a flurry in her heart, exactly where she wanted to be.



And so she sighed, contented, and closed her eyes, and sleep came swiftly once more.



Part 03: Sunday Special



Sunlight trickled in through the crease in the curtains and fell in slivers across his face, stirring him out of deepest sleep, but it was the warmth and pressure next to him, the heat of her flesh and the feel of her body against him, the suppleness, the softness, that brought a smile to his face even before he opened his eyes. He turned his head one hundred eighty degrees and set it to rest again on his pillow, and then opened them.



She was turned away from him, the covers down by her waist, the track of her spine as sleek as it was sexy, her hair a bounty of brown upon the pillow. He turned to his side and inched closer, pressing the full length of himself against her, not wanting to be away from her for one instant.



She murmured, but did not wake. He took his arm and draped it across her, claiming her, protecting her, and it was this position, some minutes later, that she finally woke for the second time that morning, although he did not know it.



She murmured again and twisted her body, pushing her rump into him, and took his hand and drew it up between her large and wonderfully soft breasts. She turned her head just enough to meet his gaze, the brown pools of her eyes vivid and bright, and her mouth curved into a smile.



“Good morning,” she purred.



“Good morning,” he replied with a smile of his own.



She wiggled against him. “This is nice,” she said, then giggled. “I like this.”



He knew exactly why she was giggling; there was a serious sense of déjà vu to the exchange, and in the best way possible. “Likewise,” he said simply, playing the part, remembering.



Her face grew reflective. “I’ve thought about that night so many times since I left, and the morning, that I remember every word.” The grin came again. “I’m surprised it took us so long to do this,” she told him.



“Yes,” he agreed, following, “but it was more than worth the wait.”



“True,” she replied, then broke. “Why does it always take us so long to get here?”



He shrugged. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly, “but I’m not waiting two years to do this again, just so you know. I’m not letting you go so easily this time.”



She giggled. “I seem to remember our last time not ending this soon, either,” she purred, her voice dripping with sex and honey. She slipped out of bed and rose to her feet, gloriously naked and gloriously shaped: long legs, apple bottom, narrow waist, and slender back, her skin the color of lightest milk chocolate. She rustled her hair and the long brunette tresses fluttered, and came to rest across her shoulder blades.



She turned and glanced back over her shoulder, eyes sparkling. “Like what you see?” she asked playfully as her hands reached behind and cupped her buttocks.



Oh, how the memory of that very motion had tormented him for more than two years, and now here he was, reliving it once again. He remembered what he said, and how he said it, and why: she was, in a word, breathtaking, and he told her so.



“Very much,” he whispered.



She giggled and pulled her cheeks apart, and there it was again: the luscious puckered plot of her anus. He was well-versed on its taste, but had yet to make his way inside.



“I seem to remember saying something about my ass the last time around,” she said softly as her hands released the cheeks of her butt, “and a shower we took together. Maybe, this time, we’ll combine the two.”



She floated into the bathroom as he worked to wrap his head around exactly what she was saying, and moments the shower gurgled and sputtered, and burst to life.



“Coming?” her sweet voice called.



Todd could not remember moving so fast, springing from the bed and vaulting into first the bathroom and then the shower. It seemed she was ready for him, too, for he was barely past the shower door when she pulled him to her and pressed her lips to his. The kiss was long and passionate, and when it was through, she sighed and pulled away.



“Wash me, baby,” she cooed as she turned, giving him an unparalleled view of the voluptuous profile of her body, long one of the dominant images in his many and varied fantasies.



He soaped up his hands and reached for her supple flesh, working a copious lather onto her shoulder blades and back, his fingers tender and tough by turns. He switched to the front, sweeping around from the small of her back to the flat of her stomach.



She moaned as his hands roamed over her pliant breasts, cupping and lifting and squeezing, exploring. They were incredible, simply incredible, fantastic to see in a bikini and fan-fucking-tastic to see and touch when bared, warm and delicious. He spent several long and lovely minutes fondling her breasts, not knowing when they would present themselves for him again, kneading them, caressing them, rolling the nipples in his fingers and across the flat of his palms.



His hands dropped suddenly, crawling over the firm curve of her buttocks. His fingers spread out and dug into the taut flesh, tugging the cheeks apart this way and that, opening to his greedy eyes what lay between; the wrinkled plot of her deliciously nasty anus, pursed and pulsing.



“Wow,” he breathed, and a sudden surge of inspiration came over him.



She sighed as his fingers kneaded the firm cheeks of her bottom, though her sigh slipped into a gasp when he dropped to a squat behind her and those fingers dug roughly into her flesh, pulling her backwards. Her palms flattened against the wall in front of her to keep her steady.



She expected him to nibble her rounded bottom, or perhaps give her a spanking or two, or even maybe taste between her legs, all of which were exciting possibilities in her mind. Not in a million years, however, would she have expected what actually happened.



He spread the cheeks of her ass as far apart as they would go, dove forward, and pressed his lips down upon her asshole, offering her anus a languorous lick with the flat of his tongue.



“Nasty boy!” the buxom young woman shrieked as her crinkled hole was suckled.



Todd did not stop, nor even did he pause. His hands held wide the cheeks of her rump as his tongue danced around her puckered hole, teasing every crack and crevice, alternating between slow and fast speeds and long and short strokes; he licked her in every conceivable way.



She was not unaccustomed to anal play, and enjoyed it immensely with the right person, as Todd had evidenced the night before, but never before had someone, not even him, so thoroughly gone to town on her asshole with lips and tongue, and the pleasure of the sensations were staggering. Her hips wavered, then bucked back into his face, drawing him deeper. His hands lost their hold for a moment and he groaned as his face embedded deep in the cleavage of her bottom, past the point of suffocation, and she screamed as in tandem his hands rediscovered their grip and his sinewy tongue speared into her tight anus, and wiggled around.



“FUCK!” she wailed, loving the nastiness of the whole scene.



He suckled her butt for a long time, until the wrinkled pink hole was thoroughly saturated with his saliva. He tongue-fucked her repeatedly, never getting very far, but far enough to cause her considerable pleasure. Finally, after many minutes, he withdrew his face from the bubble butt before him.



Grinning, he rose and saw that she was breathing heavily, slumped forward against the wall, but with a fire in her eyes as she looked at him that seemed totally at odds with the weary body that went with it. She was clearly not through with him yet.



“Fuck me, baby,” she ordered, voice like a dagger. “Fuck me right now as hard as you can!”







And so Todd Coulter stepped forward and once again spread the cheeks of the bottom of Vanessa Dorsey, fashion model extraordinaire, only this time to guide the purple head of his swollen manhood up to her luscious pink folds.



And then he pushed himself inside.



“YES!” the young woman moaned as his thickness stretched her pink lips apart.



Todd let go of her bottom as he bottomed out in her sex, his pelvis pressed into the soft milk chocolate cheeks, and his left hand went to her shoulder as the other snaked around her midsection to clutch at her round right breast.



“FUCK ME!” she demanded, and so he did.



It was animalistic and raw, and there was little tenderness to it; it was also, he realized, exactly what she wanted. He was fucking her, plain and simple, shoving his cock in and out of her pink pussy with reckless abandon and merciless force. His hips slapped up against her ass; lewd little ripples reverberated over her supple flesh.



Vanessa whimpered with each powerful thrust, a mixture of pleasure and pain as the pressure of his cock battered her snug depths, but when his hand slipped from her breast and angled down into the groove between her legs, and over the swollen mound of her clitoris, her whimpers escalated to screams.



“OH FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! OH MY GOD! FUCK ME! FUCK ME! FUCK ME!”



The wailing continued as he attacked her pussy vigorously with his fingers in time with the rhythm of his cock. The splash of the water against the tiles of the shower and the flesh of their bodies could barely be heard above his grunts of exertion and her ascendant squeals of pleasure.



“OH MY GOD! OH MY FUCKING GOD! OH MY GOD OH MY GOD FUCK ME FUCK ME FUCK ME HARDER HARDER HARDER FUCK FUCK FFFUUUCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKK!”



And then the wails went silent as Vanessa’s sex exploded, her mouth frozen open in a soundless scream as the breath left her body, her existence shattered utterly by the work of his fingers on her clitoris, her folds quivering and contracting around the thick, invasive cock at the crest of her climax, and her knees nearly buckled.



Todd recognized her weakness and held her aright with his hands on her hips even as he continued to pummel her, sinking his unflagging erection deep inside the fashion model again and again and again as she climaxed, twitching, quaking, jiggling, and shaking. At last, she slumped forward against the wall, water from the shower head still raining down upon her, and his cock, still hard, slipped from her wrecked pussy.



It was rare for women to truly surprise him, but in the moment following her epic orgasm, Vanessa Dorsey shocked Todd Coulter completely when her hand lashed out and wrapped around his rock-hard penis.



She was exhausted and pleasure-fatigued, that much was clear, her face and limbs and body still trembling, but still there was life in her eyes, fiery life that defied all conceivable possibility.



“I want more,” she whispered hoarsely, jutting her bottom out, brown eyes smoldering as she glanced back over her shoulder. “I want to feel your cum inside me.”



His eyes traveled down to her puffy pink folds. “I think it might hurt,” he told her as his fingers slid up her thigh and tenderly touched her rubbery labia.



The next instant Todd would take with him all the rest of his days; surprisingly, she wiggled away from his touch and frowned at him disapprovingly. “Not there,” she pouted. She reached back and pulled one of her butt cheeks to the side. Her voice was very firm, and very feminine as she said, “Here.”



His jaw dropped and he looked up . . . to find her brown eyes flashing and a wicked smile curving the corners of her mouth.



“Fuck my ass,” she purred, and Todd nearly came right then and there.



He reached down and pulled aside her other cheek with one hand, guiding the purple head of his cock towards the tiny hole set in the center of her ass. He watched with amazement as the slick head pressed in against the pulsing plot of her anus.



“Oh, yes!” Vanessa breathed exuberantly as she felt the head of his cock touch the portal that served as her rear entrance. She leaned forward, wanting it, wanting more, and pushed her hips back at him. Her milk chocolate breasts squished up against the glass and slid down as she contorted her body, trying desperately to get him inside her.



It worked, of course.



Todd pushed forward as Vanessa pushed back, and the mushroom head popped past the indescribably tight ring of her sphincter, stretching wide the little pink hole, and into her ass.



“FFFFUUUCCCCCCCKKKAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!” Vanessa cried as her asshole enveloped him, and her cries settled swiftly into whimpers as two solitary tears rolled down her cheeks.



He moaned as the heat and snugness of her ass enveloped him. He paused, letting her adjust to his girth, which also helped him regain his control; her oven-hot tightness almost overwhelmed him.



“Fuck me,” the young woman whispered suddenly, and that was enough for Todd.



Ask and you shall receive, Todd thought, and with a grunt he pushed forward, sinking the length of himself deep inside her bowels. He moaned and she shrieked for the umpteenth time, and much of it as they thrashed around the cramped confines of the shower. The glass door rattled ominously and for a moment, Todd wondered if it would break . . . at which point, of course, he remembered that his cock was stuffed into the luscious ass of his gorgeous old friend, and that currently he did not give one iota about anything other than that.



And so he pumped his cock into her butt, groaning as he fucked the beautiful brown-eyed girl’s ass with hard strokes, simply one of the tightest, hottest, and most intensely pleasurable things he had ever experienced in his whole life.



Her pain was intense, too, but after several minutes of brutal anal intercourse, there was nothing but incandescent pleasure; the muscles of her anus, fiercely opposed before, now succumbed and relented, and his cock speared easily into the depths of her bowels.



“UUNNHHH!” she whimpered as waves of pleasure coursed through her body; all of it originated in her ass.



She felt like she was going to explode . . . and she gave in to the feeling. Her legs trembled dangerously and her body quaked as climax once more barreled towards her.



And so Todd initiated his final assault, reaching under to grab hold of her supple breasts again as he fucked her hard and fast, thrusting all of himself into her darkened bowels, ramming roughly into her succulent ass.



Vanessa squealed and whimpered and groaned, shivering violently. She froze suddenly, face once more locked in that torturous, wordless scream, before her limbs contorted and quaked as the climax struck. Spinning in whirlpools of pleasure, sucked down into bliss, she was lost.



It was an unmatched accomplishment, he thought, to have held himself off in the face of such sensations and sights, but the intensity of her orgasm and the way the muscles of her sphincter milked his cock as she shuddered sent him hurtling over the edge, too. He exploded, coating her insides with his spunk, hammering her still and rippling the flesh of her rounded backside as every last drop of his seed was pumped and deposited into her ass.



“UGH!” Todd grunted as his balls tightened and forced his load of cum into her convulsing ass.



It was several long moments before they ended, and the air was once more heavy with the sound of ragged breathing and running water. They slumped together, each supporting the other’s weight with the wall’s help, each gasping for air. Todd tenderly pulled his cock from the ass of his beautiful lover and sighed. The water from the nozzle splattered down upon them in an unending stream.



“Wow,” she murmured, pressing her wet body to his strong chest. “Hard and fast and good, just like I like it.”



Todd chuckled. “I’ve learned that,” he said as he reached around and grabbed a firm hold of her fleshy breast.



“Thank you,” she whispered. She turned to him and kissed him softly.



And that was just the beginning of their day.



* * *



They spent it together, not wanting to waste a moment of the only free day she had in town. It began with their morning rump romp in the shower and ended beneath the stars on the balcony of her hotel room, and everything in the middle constituted one of the best days of his life, one he would forever remember.



They first met in one of those boring general education classes when they were sophomores together at USC; he was dating someone and she was dating someone, so there had been no pressure whatsoever on them at first, which is how they became such good friends.



It was a friendship that grew deeper by degrees through their remaining years of college, struggling together, studying together, drinking together, partying together, but never did they take the final steps into loving together, despite much prodding by their friends, until that fateful night before graduation. Both, he realized now, looking back, had been too scared prior to that night of what might happen to the friendship, that age-old fear of opposite sex best friends.

But now there were no such fears, no such worries, as life lived apart for so much time assuaged those concerns and brought the sexual and the sensual to the fore, where it belonged and where it would, he hoped, remain.



Having slept and fucked away their morning, they realized swiftly they were both ravenously hungry; more enjoyable conversation followed at lunch, centered mostly around their families, a continuation of topics broached on the couch the previous night.



Her parents were doing well, still living and thriving in the small town of Fremont in the suburbs of San Jose, where Vanessa grew up. Her father was an electrician by trade, her mother an elementary school teacher. Her younger sister was a senior in high school, earning good grades, and would likely be attending USC the following year. Her younger brother was a stud football player and on the high school varsity team, despite being only a sophomore.



“They miss you, you know,” she said with a soft smile.



“Me?” Todd asked, surprised. “They hardly know me.”



“Oh, they know you,” Vanessa corrected with an arched eyebrow. “You stayed over at our house at least a half-dozen times, you drank with my dad, and played games with my brother and sister. I talked about you all the time when you weren’t around; it was almost comical how much I talked about you. Of course, they know you.” She grinned, then giggled. “It’s safe to say you’re their favorite white person in the whole world!”



Todd felt a sudden apprehension. “Do they . . . care about that sort of thing?”



Vanessa met his gaze firmly. “You mean,” she asked soberly, “would they care about us because you’re white? Not at all. They love you. My father might care about the pre-marital sex, if he knew, but then again he’s a little old-fashioned.” She giggled again. “He’d be super pissed if he knew you’d fucked my ass.”



Todd’s jaw dropped and he glanced around to see if anyone heard, which, thankfully, they had not. “Vanessa Dorsey!” he chastised.



Without effect, it seemed, as she added in a low voice, “Unless, maybe, he knew how good it felt!”



Their next stop was the beach, where they lounged on the sand beneath the warming rays of the sun, listening to the surf and the sounds of a lively and beautiful Sunday in southern California, and cuddled just enough for modesty to still prevail.



Vanessa looked spectacular in her jet black bikini, which covered a great deal more than her costume the night before but still showed a tremendous amount of flesh. It was difficult, lying next to her, for Todd to keep his hands to himself, and he told her so.



“Mind your manners now, handsome,” she told him, “and you might be rewarded later.”



It grew cooler and they threw on their clothes, which for Vanessa meant frayed jean short-shorts and a loose long-sleeve shirt, and for Todd meant a shirt to go along with his board shorts, and together made their way along a nearby beach boardwalk, soaking in the sights and sounds of the multitude of people.



The sun was just beginning to set when they heard a bit of music drifting across on the winds, and went to investigate. A crowd of onlookers were huddled around three figures, two men with guitars and a woman.



“She’s gorgeous,” Vanessa breathed as she watched.



Vanessa, it seemed, had excellent taste: the woman was stunning. Youthful and beautiful with long blonde hair and dark green eyes, and a great figure from what Todd could see. Her voice was lovely, too, as they learned a moment later when she opened her mouth to sing.



The younger guitarist joined her, an attractive younger man with shaggy brown hair and brown eyes, and clearly a great load of musical talent. It was also clear that he and the blonde knew how to sing together, for their performance was top-notch. The third man was older, but also a fine guitarist, and seemed to enjoy his complementary role.



“Good music makes me horny,” Vanessa revealed, her whispered breath hot in his ear. “I’m thinking my place tonight, and by tonight, I mean right now.”



Which is how they came to her hotel room, where they ordered room service and ate their food on the balcony beneath the stars, lounging happily together, totally content.



* * *



He could not remember being so happy, so at peace. In the more than two years since graduation, Todd had dated many women, some asked out by him and others brave enough to do the asking themselves. He always agreed, excited, but not knowing why, and it was not until the dinner they shared upon the balcony that he truly figured it out: he had been searching for some semblance of the feelings he had for Vanessa, only he never knew it.



She was what he wanted, and all he wanted, and when she was gone the memory of her was what drove him, what shaped within him his approach toward women. There was a reason he did not commit, a reason he did not last longer than two months, a reason no woman had ever captured his heart; his heart was given over long before.



It was given to Vanessa Dorsey.



Lounging comfortably and nakedly on a soft-cushion on the balcony attached to her hotel suite, he reflected back with some curiosity as to the exact moment he was lost to her completely. There were so many moments, so many little moments mixed in with the big, that it was nearly impossible to know for sure.



He never did, in fact, figure it out: a breathy sigh shook him from his reverie and he glanced back at the sliding door that separated the balcony from the bedroom, and felt his heart skip several beats at what waited there to be seen.



A white silk robe covered the body of Vanessa where she stood just beyond the door frame, only covering was not exactly the most optimal word; the robe was open in the front and the whole of her delectable front was displayed.



His eyes traveled down her body. She was gorgeous: scintillating bright brown eyes that cast a darkly seductive gaze his way; wonderfully soft light milk chocolate skin; a slender neck that sloped down into her shoulders and lower still into a pair of exquisite breasts, so round and full; a flat stomach; curved hips; and lean, lovely legs.



And then his eyes focused in on what lay between those legs and his undoing was complete: the sight of the neatly groomed swath of dark curls set above hairless pink lips, freshly shorn and glistening with the evidence of her arousal, was more than he could stand, and a fresh erection sprouted faster and harder than he could have possibly imagined.



“Hi,” the beautiful model said in a sultry voice.



And then she buried a finger in her pussy and Todd felt his jaw hit the floor. Vanessa’s eyes fluttered with pleasure as she masturbated herself, very uncharacteristically, and he found it suddenly impossible to speak, witnessing what he was.



She giggled. “Don’t move,” she breathed as she pulled her finger out of herself and sauntered forward to where he was sitting. Her smile was beguiling, so wickedly dazzling as she dropped to her knees wrapped her luscious lips around the head of his cock. She was very good at most things she attempted and, while rare, blowjobs were no different: she was an expert cocksucker.



Her tongue tickled its way up the underside of his shaft and flittered around the mushroom head, then dropped low and flattened out against one of his balls. She lapped at his testicles for several long and luxurious moments before her mouth enveloped the whole of him again and suckled him reverently.



And yet despite the waves of pleasure her mouth was providing, Todd had something else on his mind, something he had also been contemplating of late. There was surprise and curiosity in her eyes as he drew her gently up to her feet, rising himself, but those eyes widened with shock as he spun her roughly around with his powerful hands and forced her into position: back arched, ass upturned, legs locked, feet spread apart, and her hands gripping the balcony rails.



Todd flipped the robe up her back and admired the way the her taut butt wiggled and swayed, inching backward as it searched for contact. Her pretty pink pussy was achingly wet and ready for him; he positioned himself at the entrance and fed his cock into her, more and more, inch after inch, until his pelvis was nestled snugly up against the cheeks of her rump and all of his sizable shaft was buried inside her.



He sighed happily.



“Fuck me!” the buxom brunette cried.



And so he began to fuck her with reckless abandon, pounding his cock into her again and again, not caring who could see them on the balcony nor who might be able to hear the incredibly loud thwack as his hips bounced off her ass. One hand held her hips, while the other reached under to clutch at one of her pear-shaped breasts as it jiggled from the force of his thrusts.



It ran completely counter to the nature of his thoughts from only minutes before, but so it had always been between them, that ability to bounce from topic-to-topic, from the serious to the sublime to the hilarious, and back. It was like that before there was sex, and their sexual relationship was no different.



Todd looked down and watched one of his favorite sights in the world: his cock stretching a pussy from behind, disappearing and reappearing as the flesh of her bottom rippled and the crinkled skin of her anus pulsed.



Her first orgasm cam quickly, caused by his cock and the strumming of her own hand upon her clitoris, but it was only a warm-up to the big one he knew would be coming — and so did she, and she planned to make the most of it.



She bucked him back fiercely with her hips, his shaft slipping free, and in that moment she turned and vaulted into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist as they wiggled in search of what had been lost. He nearly toppled, caught off-guard by her athletic display, but he was strong and sure, and held himself aloft as he found the leverage he needed and took hold of her legs at the fleshy part of her thighs just below the rump.



She settled down and his cock slipped back inside, and she sighed once before she attacked his mouth with gusto, kissing him with an active tongue even as she whispered, “Fuck me!”



The muscles of his arms rippled with exertion as Todd fucked her standing upright, her tongue plunging into his mouth in time with each of her downward drops and his upward thrusts. It was pleasurable and lewd, but also a great deal of work for them both, and after some minutes he lowered them back down to the cushions of the chaise.



She bounced in his lap and began screaming at the top of her lungs as the main event orgasm began building, for now he was the one who could both fuck her and tickle her clit, and suckle her gorgeous breasts, and all at the same time. Her nails raked his back as she rode him, grinding and scratching and fucking as they both neared the breaking point.



And then passed it.



Todd gushed into her as she wailed even louder than before, and orgasm devastated them both. His mouth was open but he could not speak, could not make sound of any kind as if all the oxygen in his body had spurted from the tip of his cock. She was right with him, although not suffering from lack of speech, crying and laughing and moaning even as her hips continued to move.



And then it was over and the sounds and movement ceased, and the fatigue set in. Neither was sure who it was that initiated the move to the bedroom, but they trudged there together on weary legs and collapsed in a tangle of limbs to the mattress.



Vanessa was gorgeous, as always, and her lovely brown hair was spread round her head like a glorious halo as she subsided upon the pillows. Todd snuggled closer to her, wanting as he rested just a piece of the heaven that was her.



He turned as he snuggled and drew his face closer to hers, and in the darkness, surprisingly, found her looking back at him from where her head lay upon the pillow, and there were tears in her eyes. He was instantly concerned, wanting, needing to comfort, for these were not tears of joy or pleasure or exertion.



“What’s wrong?” he said softly.



“I leave on Friday,” she said, her voice low.



It had been unspoken before now, but had been in the back of both of their minds. “That’s five days away,” he said. “We still have plenty of time.”



She sniffled. “Then what?” she asked, wavering.



Todd was silent, then said, simply and honestly, and sadly, “I don’t know. I just know I want to make the most of the time we have. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”



She sniffled again, then nodded, and inched closer to him in the bed. He draped his arm over her, bringing her in even closer, and it was in that position, flesh against flesh, that they slept for the rest of the night.



Part 04: Five Days of Delight



They were practically inseparable.



He spent some time at the paper and she had various publicity events to go to and interviews to give, but every other moment they spent together, either traveling around the city or holed up naked in one of their bedrooms. The sex was often and the sex was excellent, and never once did one tire of the other.



How could he tire of a body as delectable as hers? Thin in all the proper places, curvy where nature intended, tight where he preferred, and fleshy where it needed to be, her body was an incredible wealth of treasures. She smelled phenomenal, tasted delicious, felt fantastic, and was more beautiful than any creature he could imagine; she was perfect.



He was not too shabby himself, in her eyes: chivalrous and kind, honest and sincere, not to mention a total hottie with strong shoulders and chiseled features. He never noticed it, but girls were checking him out wherever they went; Vanessa, who received a fair share of looks herself, actually enjoyed the competition.



She visited him twice at his office, meeting some of his colleagues and watching him write, and the second time, late at night, he showed her an interesting little corner of the newsroom: an out-of-the-way storage closet, inside which he licked her from behind until she creamed all over his face. She returned the favor, of course, licking his balls and sucking his cock before he shot a thick load down her throat.



He followed her once, too, wanting to see her in her element, to a wardrobe mix-and-match session at a studio downtown, and in one of the slower moments the two slipped away for hot, dirty, quickie sex in a changing room in the back of the building, her legs spread, her waist bent, her palms flat against the wall as he pounded her from behind, while his hand roughly covered her mouth to ensure she did not scream out loud with pleasure, as she was often prone to do.



They did not discuss her impending departure, not once, not even for a minute.



* * *



Her suite had one of those massive Jacuzzi tubs, the kind that made little sense in any normal sort of household but always seemed to accompany a lavish hotel room. Todd lay comfortably within, his arms resting on the sides out of the water, the surface bubbling just below his armpits. His eyes were closed as he relished the feel of the warm water as it churned, the water jets caressing his flesh, soothing and soft, and satisfying.



A sound barely heard above the whir of the jets and the pop of the bubbles broke him from his relaxation. He opened his eyes and smiled: Vanessa was standing in the doorway, sipping a glass of chardonnay, wrapped in a short pink terry cloth robe. Much of her supple legs were in view as the robe descended only to mid-thigh, while her lovely brown hair was pinned up on her head in a series of intricate folds.



“Enjoying yourself?” she asked, smiling demurely.



“Much,” he exhaled.



Her expression changed. “How’s the water?” she purred, and Todd knew well what the look on her face meant. It had its intended effect almost instantly.



He grinned. “Lonely,” he told her.



Vanessa laughed, a musical sound, and downed the last of her drink. She tugged at her sash and let the robe slip from her shoulders, and fall to the floor, proudly displaying herself before him.



He drank in the sight of her, intoxicating himself as if she were wine. He drank in her long legs and the neatly trimmed swath of curls covering the mound where they met, her flat stomach, and her full, firm breasts. Her bright brown eyes flashed with sudden hunger. She stepped into the water and sank down into his arms, her back against his chest.



“Mmmm, yes,” she sighed as the water enveloped her. She gasped suddenly when she felt something press sharply into her side, and added, “Oh my!” Her fingers swept under the water and grasped his shaft, and stroked it.



She rolled over in his arms and their naked bodies molded together. He leaned in and kissed her gently on the lips, and she kissed him back, equally tender.



Todd ran his hands down the smooth, slick curve of her back, and she giggled into his mouth as he dug his fingers into the taut flesh of her bottom. She broke their kiss, redirecting her worship to his exposed neck, kissing and nibbling it all over.



His fingers were active, but gentle, pushing her rounded cheeks together, pulling them wide apart, running his pointer down and over the compressed plot in the crevice between, all the way down to the perineum, which he tickled with exceeding softness.



“Mmmm,” she murmured into his neck, and then she was moving again, pushing his legs together as she rose up to straddle him, slithering up his body to offer her fleshy breasts to his active mouth.



Todd wasted no time, releasing his hold on her ass to grip her round and ripe melons and squeeze them together. His tongue flicked back and forth over the shriveled and distended pink crests as her hand reached back and tightened its hold upon his cock.



She wiggled her hips and positioned herself, and he felt her guide the purple head of his manhood into the folds of her pussy. His hands traveled down from palming her tits to grab hold of her hips as she lowered herself with excruciating languor onto his column.



“Ahhhhh,” Vanessa moaned as his thickness spread her labia.



Her arms wrapped around his neck as she sank further and further into his lap, impaling herself ever-so-sweetly, ever-so-fully, until she bottomed out and his cock could go no deeper, her rump resting on his thighs. He bent his head to worship her glistening body with his tongue, pressing his face into the valley between her breasts. His hands slipped around her waist and took hold, once more, of her luscious bottom, even as his mouth closed over her succulent right nipple.



Vanessa sighed, but it was clearly not what she wanted; she took hold of his head and drew it back, bringing her own mouth down to his to kiss him with tender passion. It was sweet and sensual, their kiss, and spoke as much about where their relationship had gone as anything else; in times not long past, she would have devoured him in such a moment, hard-charging the sex and climax, but it seemed she preferred this time to enjoy the experience of love-making.



This did not preclude her hips, of course, from grinding tight little circles where she sat in his lap, eliciting little whimpers and moans from them both, nor from slowly, ever slowly beginning to slide herself up and down on his considerable shaft.



Todd clutched her buttocks, urging her up and down, before he brought his hands to touch her breasts again, holding them like little shelves just below the rounded undersides such that, with every downward movement of her body, her breasts came to rest heavily upon the flat of his palms. At the same time, with every downward movement, he began to move himself, lifting his hips slightly to meet hers.



“Just like that, baby,” she breathed, her eyes fluttering. It was slow and leisurely love-making, the kind that spoke of intimacy and connectedness, and it was beautiful. “You’re so big!”

Synopsis: Loren had no idea what he was getting into when his agent suggested he write transvestite fiction. Nor did he realize how eagerly his wife Stephanie would embrace the idea of feminizing her husband. How far would they go?



*



Chapter 13: Laura Blossoms



A routine developed. During the weekdays, Kathleen would come over to watch Loren work. They would read fashion magazines, watch her favorite soap, and she would gossip about their friends. They were becoming good friends. She would also occasionally bring him more clothes and would hint that they should go out somewhere public, but so far, she hadn’t forced the issue.



Kathleen also tried to encourage Loren to get back to work on his next book. Despite everything, he had decided to write another thriller, though this was proving difficult. Loren had laid out the plot, but he found he had little interest in it, at least until he came to the chapter where he introduces the woman his hero would eventually be saving. Loren spent two full pages describing her clothes before he realized what he had done.



“Can you believe this?” Loren asked.



“Apparently, you’ve got a thing for clothes,” Kathleen said with a chuckle as she looked over the two pages he had written.



“And the real problem is, I can’t even think about what to take out. It all seems relevant! I read each word and I think, ‘that needs to be in there so the audience can see her.’” He took the pages from Kathleen. “Listen to this,” he said, as he crossed his legs and began wiggling his high-heeled Mary Jane beneath his tight maroon skirt. He read:



She sat on the bed and tucked the secret plans inside her purse, an exquisite black-leather purse from Gusti decorated with embroidered black roses. It had two internal compartments, one for her wallet and one for the other things she kept. She set the purse down on the floor next to her feet and crossed her legs. Her sandal dangled from the ends of her golden toes. The lilac polish on her toenails peeked out through the open toe of the tan sandal as its four-inch heel swayed gently back and forth to the rhythm of her leg.



“It goes on like that for two pages,” he said. “And do you know the one thing I don’t mention?”



“What?”



“I never mention what the plans are. . . completely forgot!” Loren rolled his eyes.



Kathleen giggled. “Maybe they’re designs for a new clothing line and your hero is a fashion designer spy!”



Loren shook his head and tossed the papers into the garbage. “Do you know, I’m actually starting to look at women’s clothes rather than their bodies? I’m serious. Stephanie and I have started going out for dinner lately and I—”



“Started?” Kathleen asked with an odd expression on her face.



Loren suddenly remembered that Kathleen did not know that he remained dressed as Laura when he was with Stephanie. “Uh, yeah, started. We hadn’t been going out for a while since Stephanie’s vacation ended. . . and now we’ve started again.” Kathleen seemed to accept this, so Loren continued. “And I swear to you, I’ll see some really hot woman waiting to be seated and I don’t think, ‘wow, great boobs’ or ‘awesome butt.’ No. I’ll think, ‘wow, those are fantastic shoes, I wonder where she got them?’ Or I’ll start thinking about how I would look in her dress or how much more I like her purse than mine.”



Kathleen smiled. “Loren, have you considered that maybe it’s time to tell Stephanie? Maybe it’s time to go full-time as a woman?”



Loren shook his head. This thought had crossed his mind more and more lately, but he tried to suppress it every time it came up. He was a man and that’s how it would have to be. Besides, while this had been fun, he couldn’t imagine Stephanie really wanting to live with him as a woman for the rest of his life, could she?



“Well, you’re welcome to come shopping with me the next time you get the urge to buy whatever pretty clothes you see on another woman.”



“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind,” he said with some frustration.



“Oh, I almost forgot!” Kathleen said, and she reached into her purse. “It’s pill time, sweetie.”



Loren rolled his eyes. Each day Kathleen gave him another pill. She even found ways to get him the pills on weekends, by making excuses to drop by. Loren was sure this was a game, and that these were just vitamins, but it seemed to make her happy to pretend they were hormones, so he took them and never thought twice about it.



Soon days turned into weeks and Loren’s hair grew. It now hung just past his shoulders and Stephanie dyed it blond and gave it wavy curls, which made it hard for Loren to look masculine on the occasions he needed to dress like “Loren” again, such as when Jane and Greg came over for lunch. But then, his hair wasn’t the only problem.



For one thing, his eyebrows were now completely feminine. They were highly arched and delicate. They were also dyed to match his hair. The holes in his ears were more obvious as well because the earrings Stephanie made him wear were heavy and stretched his lobes. His nails were long and oval, even without polish. Plus, his mannerisms were all wrong. He had become so used to wearing heels that he now walked like he wore them even when he didn’t. He also moved his hands in a feminine manner, crossed his legs like a woman, walked with a swish, folded his arms beneath his breasts, and generally made delicate motions to avoid upsetting the intricate clothing and makeup he normally wore, even when he wasn’t wearing it.



At the same time, he noticed that his skin felt softer too and his hair fuller. He put this down to using Stephanie’s beauty products. But then he began to notice that his chest and hips were becoming flabby and he was losing muscle mass. This puzzled him. The breasts could be the result of the new bra Stephanie bought him, but he wasn’t sure. This nearly-magical bra appeared to give him genuine cleavage, if you didn’t look to carefully. And even though his body returned to its normal shape after he took the bra off, it seemed to take some time these days for that to happen, and even then, his chest was definitely flabby. The rest he simply couldn’t explain. Was it possible Kathleen really was giving him hormones?



Even more worryingly, however, he was having a harder time getting an erection and it wasn’t nearly as firm as it had been. This was the first change Stephanie noticed. One night, Stephanie had called Loren into the bedroom to give him his reward for being a “good girl” all weekend, but no matter what they did, he couldn’t keep it stiff.



“I don’t get it, dear,” she said as she tugged on his flaccid member.



Loren bit his lip. “I just don’t know what to say?”



“Are you not finding this exciting anymore?” she asked as she push it back and forth and tried to blow on it.



“Absolutely I am! It just won’t get as hard for some reason. I can’t explain it.”



Stephanie grabbed it and squeezed. “Does my husband like being a little sissy whose wife tells him what to do?” she cooed at it. Nothing. “Hmm. That always worked before.” She tickled the underside of his shaft. Nothing. “Hmm.”



“I don’t understand this,” Loren said.



“Hold on, I’ve got it.” She grabbed a pair of panties from the floor and wrapped them around his penis. She began rubbing him with the panties. “Does my little sissy need panties to get it up?”



Suddenly, his penis stirred.



“‘atta girl! Look at the poor little thing growing!” she cheered. The more she rubbed, the more it began to grow. “Keep going, girlfriend!”



Loren blushed, but his penis did finally become erect, though it seemed smaller than normal and it was still soft enough that Stephanie could bend it easily. After a few seconds, it deflated.



Stephanie put her hands on her hips and announced: “Loren, I think you’ve taken this girl thing too far.”



“What are we going to do?” he asked nervously.



Stephanie giggled.



“Do you mind, this is serious!”



“Loren, honey, this is not serious. Serious is a heart attack. Serious is can’t pay your bills. This,” she said, flipping his penis from one side to the other, “this is an inconvenience. I’ll take you to see my doct—”



“No way! There’s no way I’m explaining this to a doctor!”



Stephanie frowned. “Loren, you need to see my doctor.”



“No way,” he insisted. “I would die of embarrassment if somebody else knew.”



Stephanie shook her head. “Fine, I’ll see my doctor and I’ll see if she can help us without seeing you.” She climbed on top of him. “But in the meantime, we need to teach you how girls do it.”



–0–



“Thanks for this, Claire,” Stephanie told her doctor.



“No problem, Steph.”



“I tried to get Loren to come see you, but he’s too embarrassed.”



“I understand. ED can be quite a humiliation for most men. He’s probably ashamed to be seen in public right now, afraid that everyone will think he’s no longer a man.”



Stephanie laughed. “You don’t know the half of it!”



“Oh trust me, Steph, I see this all the time. Loren’s case is nothing unusual.”



Stephanie bit her tongue and said to herself, “you have no idea how unusual!” She held up the pill container. “But these pills will fix him, right?”



Claire smiled. “He’ll be hard as a rock. But he really should come see me, it could be any number of things.”



“Like what?”



“Lots of things. There are some creams and a few heart pills that mimic female hormones. Those can be a problem. He might have put on some weight. It could just be stress. Or there could be something that needs to be fixed.”



“I’ll see what I can do about making him come see you,” Stephanie said.



That night, she gave Loren the first of these pills. He was hard as a rock all night and most of the following day. The thrill had returned.



Chapter 14: The Cross-tume Party



Loren lay on the bed wearing only a pink babydoll nightie and stockings. His panties and his heels lay on the floor, where Stephanie had tossed them. His hands were tied to the headboard with a pair of Stephanie’s stockings. Stephanie sat on top of him, with her knees on either side of him and her hands behind her, gripping the heels on her mules. She wore a matching babydoll nightie, though hers was blue — she said that made her “the boy.” She also wore stockings and her mules. Her panties lay on the floor next to Loren’s.



“That’a girl, Laura,” Stephanie purred, as she flexed her vaginal muscles and squeezed his erection. She was breathing heavily. “We should do this more often!”



Loren pushed his hips upwards. He felt the pressure building inside his penis. “I’m always up for more. . . I’ve been waiting for this all day.”



“I know, I could tell at the restaurant already,” she said between breaths. “I thought you were going to burst out of your girdle and scare the waiter.”



“It’s the burgers. . . burgers excite me.” He too was breathing heavily.



Stephanie laughed. “Yeah, right. I think it was the blond seated across from us. The one in the red dress. I saw you looking her way all night.”



“I was admiring her shoes,” he said with a wink.



Stephanie laughed again. “I’m sure.” She squeezed even harder now and began to gyrate. “Of course. . . they were pretty.”



“They were exquisite. I almost asked her where she got them,” he said between puffs.



“Imagine my husband approaching a strange woman to ask her where she bought her shoes!” She felt her muscles begin to contract, an orgasm was near.



“Yeah, I’ll bet that doesn’t happen too often in other families,” he said as his penis began to throb. His climax was near as well.



“Speaking of things we should do more often,” she said as she ground herself even further down on his erection, “we’re having another party.”



Loren suddenly stopped. “What do you mean?”



“Hey, did I say ‘stop’?!”



“What kind of party?”



Stephanie let go of her heels and leaned forward. She placed her hands on either side of his chest and kissed him on the lips. “A party party,” she said. “I miss our friends and I want to see them again. Now get back to work.” She jiggled her hips from side to side.



“And how will I be dressed for this party party?” he asked coldly.



“I haven’t decided yet,” she said.



“That’s an important detail, don’t you think?”



Stephanie licked his earlobe, causing the hoops in his ears to jingle. “Don’t you want to be surprised?” she asked with a pout.



“No.” His penis began to deflate.



“Really?”



“No,” he repeated.



Stephanie sat up straight again and slid her hands beneath his babydoll, slowly sliding them up his torso until her hands reached his breasts, then she suddenly furrowed her brow. “Hey! You’re getting flabby, girlfriend!”



“Don’t change the topic,” he said.



“I’m not changing the topic,” she said and she squeezed the flabby mounds upon his chest. “But you’re getting really flabby. Seriously, you’re gonna need a bra for real at this rate. We need to put you on a diet or something. I should make you go to the gym.” She giggled. “Could you imagine mincing into the locker room in your little skirt and high heels as they all watched you? Then you’d drop your panties and they would see your little dicky standing there all by its lonesome. Wouldn’t that be exciting?”



“No, it wouldn’t. But seriously, what kind of party are you talking about? And what am I going to wear?”



Stephanie laughed. “Now you do sound like a woman, ‘I haven’t got a thing to wear.’”



Loren glared at her.



“Oh, all right, fine,” Stephanie said with some frustration. She climbed off Loren and sat on the edge of the bed. “I think it’s time we laid some groundwork for your ‘coming out.’”



“What do you mean, my ‘coming out’?”



“Honestly, Loren, did you think you could be Laura all the time without having to tell our friends? If you’re going to be Laura, they will have to see you at some point.”



“So you want to have a party and show me off?”



“Sort of, yes,” she said with a sly smile.



“And you expect me to dress like a woman at this party?”



“Oh, absolutely.”



Loren took a deep breath. “And what exactly will I be wearing?”



“I haven’t decided yet. I’m leaning toward the pink maid costume, but the naughty school girl look might be better. Unless you have a better idea?”



“Is this a joke? There is no way I’m letting you invite all our friends over and then parade me in front of them in a maid costume,” he said sourly.



“Loren,” she kissed him on the lips, “honey,” she kissed him again, “you have no say in the matter, remember? If that’s what I want, then you’ll do it.” She kissed him one more time. “But you’ll be happy to know, you won’t be alone. I’m planning a costume party. . . or more specifically, a ‘cross-tume’ party.”



“What is a ‘cross-tume party’?”



Stephanie leaned back and draped one arm over his legs, resting the other within inches of his penis. “We’re having a costume party, only I’m making all the men come as women.”



“A crossdressing costume party?”



“Right, that’s why I called it a ‘cross-tume party’.”



“Why are we doing this?”



She began pushing his penis back and forth with the deep-purple nail on her pointer finger. “Think about it, dear. If you’re going to stay as Laura, which is something you and I both know you want, then Laura needs to come out of the closet at some point. You can’t keep trying to be Loren when guests come over and Laura the rest of the time. You agree, right?”



Loren shrugged his shoulders. She was right and he knew it, but he just didn’t like the idea of their friends knowing his secret. It scared him. What would they think of him? “Go on.”



“So eventually, we need to tell them. We could just invite them over, in a group or one at a time, and tell them you’ve decided to become Laura. But that will be quite a shock for them, and we have no idea how they would react.”



“True.”



“But if we have this party, then they’ll get a chance to see you as a woman before we ever tell them. That can sink into their minds. Then, when we tell them about Laura in a couple weeks or whatever, they’ve already had a chance to get used to the idea of you as a woman. It won’t shock them.”



This made a certain amount of sense to Loren. Rather than hit their friends with this out of the blue, they would at least have a frame of reference within which they could accept the idea. That said, however, this was all unchartered territory and Loren really had no idea how their friends would react. This might ultimately achieve nothing. On the other hand, what could it hurt?



Loren looked at Stephanie. “Ok, I’ll do it. But forget the maid costume. I want to look normal. I want to look like a real woman, not a pretend woman.”



Stephanie smiled and kissed him on the lips. “Deal.”



Loren chuckled. “You know, this has disaster written all over it, don’t you? These guys are going to resist and I’ll bet none of them show up in women’s clothes. I’ll be the only one standing there in a dress, feeling like an idiot.”



“I wouldn’t be so sure, dear. We wives have ways of making our husbands do what we want,” she said as she tickled his shaft.



“You know, I’m starting to think you’d enjoy seeing the whole world feminized.”



Stephanie laughed. She kissed him again and squeezed his growing erection. “Wouldn’t you?”



Loren chuckled. “No comment.”



Stephanie climbed back on top of Loren.



“One last question. What will the women be wearing?”



Stephanie adjusted herself. “Whatever they want.”



Kathleen came over the following morning. She was excited about the “cross-tume” party. She seemed to love the idea of feminizing men.



“I think it’s going to be terrific fun,” Kathleen said as she sipped her tea. She wore a yellow sundress and yellow pumps. “I take it this was your idea? Trying to get Stephie used to the idea, is that it?”



“Actually, it was Stephanie’s idea,” Loren said. He wore a white pleated skirt and the wooden clogs with the flowery pattern. His hair was tied back in a ponytail.



Kathleen laughed. “Really?! Maybe she’s trying to tell you something, sweetie?”



Loren chuckled. “Could be. How is Peter taking the idea?”



“I haven’t told him yet.”



“I’ll bet he puts up a fight.”



“If he does, he’ll find out who wears the pants in our family, won’t he? I hope Peter likes sequins.”



Loren shook his head. He couldn’t imagine Peter in a dress of any kind.



Kathleen continued. “You know what I’m really excited about though?”



“What?”



Kathleen leaned forward and began shaking her leg excitedly. “This party will be an excellent look into the lives of all our friends.”



“How so?”



“It’s like a Rorschach test. What the couples come dressed as and how they act could tell us a lot about them. Take Linda and Bill. Bill is so totally in control all the time and Linda is so mousy. Wouldn’t it be telling if he showed up as a sexy maid and she showed up as a whip wielding dominatrix?” Kathleen laughed. “And what about Larry. He’s a good six inches shorter than his wife. Do you think that bothers him? Do you think she likes it? We’ll see when we see how high his heels are, won’t we?”



“Didn’t Freud say, ‘sometimes high heels are just high heels’?”



“Freud probably shoved cigars up his rear,” she said sarcastically. “Trust me, sweetie, we’re going to find out a lot about these people.”



Loren chuckled. “And what will we find out about you and Peter?”



Kathleen winked. “You tell me.”



“Poor Peter,” Stephanie said with a laugh as she pulled off her shoes.



“What do you mean, ‘poor Peter’?” Loren asked as he pulled his dress over his head and sat down on their bed.



“If I read Kathleen correctly, things are about to change at their house. And I doubt Kathleen will be as a good a mistress as I’ve been to you.”



“Mistress?”



“Yes, mistress. You can’t deny that I’m the one wearing the pants around here, literally and figuratively.”



Loren shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, I guess.”



“There’s no guess about it. If I say heel, you say how high, and that’s the way it should be. I like being in charge and you like being my submissive little toy,” she said matter-of-factly.

Loren slid his stockings down his legs. “I wouldn’t go that far.”



“I would. And don’t forget, I’ve been very good to you. I’m letting you live your dream, when few other wives would.”



Loren smiled to himself.



Stephanie continued. “But Kathleen is something else. She can go more than a little over the top and I suspect Peter is in for some hard nights. You just better hope she doesn’t try to bring you two together.”



That wasn’t something Loren wanted to think about and he cringed.



Stephanie laughed. “Could you imagine? Think of the fun we could have if we brought you two ‘girls’ together. You could hold hands, kiss, maybe even experience a few of the pleasures sissies can give each other. I’ll bet Peter gives great blowjobs,” Stephanie said with an evil smile.



“No, thanks,” Loren said firmly. He blushed.



Stephanie turned to face him. “Are you sure? You two would look so cute together!” She was grinning from ear to ear, but Loren didn’t respond. “What? No answer? You want time to think it over?” she asked with a giggle.



Loren frowned.



“Maybe I should make you put on your little maid’s uniform and go offer her and Peter a hand?”



Loren glared at her.



Stephanie jumped onto the bed and wrapped her arms around Loren. “I’m just kidding, dear. You may be a sissy, but you’re my sissy and I don’t want to share you with anyone. . . even another sissy.”



Loren heard the doorbell and checked himself in the mirror one last time. That would be Kathleen and Peter. She’d promised to show up early as moral support before the other guests started to arrive. As Loren made his way to the door, he wondered what Peter would be wearing. Kathleen had refused to tell him, saying only that Peter would be dressed “appropriately.” In retaliation, Loren refused to tell her how he would be dressed too. She assumed it would be the pink maid’s uniform, which was her favorite, but Loren had other ideas.



Loren took a deep breath and opened the door. He was nervous. Even though this was ostensibly just a costume party, he felt like this was “the big moment” for him, where he finally “went public” to his friends.



“Oh my God, Loren!” Kathleen gasped when she saw him.



Loren smiled and turned so she could examine him. He wore a stunning white gown with long sleeves and a square collar. The dress had a diagonal cutout which displayed his cleavage, enhanced by a well-designed pushup bra, decorative pearl buttons on the sleeves, and a side-clasp. The dress hung to the floor, letting his red-painted toenails and silver sandals peek out only occasionally. His platinum-blond hair was done up in a sort of bun. His makeup was exquisite. His long silvery earrings, the several silver rings on his fingers, and the two silver toe-rings were all perfect accessories. The most amazing aspect, however, was his shape. Between the corset, the bra and the girdle, he had a nearly-perfect hourglass shape. He also had a completely smooth front and a curvy rear.



Kathleen and Peter stared at Loren in silence for several seconds. Finally, Kathleen smiled. “Are you going to let us in, gorgeous?”



Loren blushed. “Please come in.”



This was the first moment Loren noticed their costumes, he had been too distracted by their responses before this. Kathleen wore a conservative, olive-colored men’s suit, a white oxford dress shirt and a red and gold tie. Her hair was slicked back. She wore no earrings, but she did wear her normal makeup. She also had her nails painted to match the tie, and she wore what Loren recognized as kidskin pumps with three-inch heels. She looked sharp. Peter, on the other hand, looked incredibly uncomfortable. He wore a dress much like Alice in Disney’s Alice in Wonderland. On his head, he wore a long blond wig. His legs and arms had been shaved. On his feet, he wore white stockings which stopped at his knees and black Mary Janes with two-inch heels. There was nothing passable about Peter.



“Kathleen! Peter!” Stephanie called out from behind them. She had been in the kitchen setting out the chips and dips. She wore a Napoleon costume, complete with sword. She wore no makeup, but then she needed none. She hugged Kathleen and stepped back to admire her and Peter’s costumes. “Very nice!”



“Well, they’re nothing like Loren’s!” Kathleen said. “He. . . excuse me, she is a total knockout. You seriously need to consider keeping her a woman full-time!”



Stephanie laughed. “Don’t think I haven’t considered it.” She patted Loren’s rear. “What do you think, Laura, do you want to be a woman full-time?”



Loren blushed. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to answer this, so he just smiled.



“A smile is not a denial,” Kathleen said, waving her finger at Loren.



“Why don’t you come in and make yourselves comfortable,” Stephanie said.



With Kathleen and Peter’s help, the rest of the setup was completed in no time. Then the doorbell rang. It was Loren’s job to greet the guests so he made his way to the hallway. He checked himself in the mirror again and took a deep breath. As he did, Kathleen came up behind him and placed her hands on his hips.



“I would hug you, but I don’t want to ruin that magnificent dress,” she whispered into his ear. “You are drop dead gorgeous, Loren! I can’t wait to compare you to the other husbands. There is no way any of them can hold a candle to you.”



Indeed, they couldn’t. One by one, the other couples arrived. There was a magician and her husband the magician’s assistant. He had no balance in his black stilettos and abandoned them a few minutes after arrival. There was a pilot and her husband the stewardess. In real life he really was a pilot. There was a knight and her husband the damsel in distress. Then came Terri, the bullfighter, and her diminutive husband Larry, who dressed like Carmen Miranda, right down to the six-inch platform heels. Sadly for him, Terri made sure to wear slight heels, so she remained taller. There was also mousy Linda, the cop, and her macho husband Bill, the stripper. Finally, there came Jane and Greg. Loren noticed Kathleen eyeing them suspiciously throughout the evening.



After serving several rounds of drinks and mixing with each of the guests, Loren went to the empty end of the room and leaned against the couch. His feet were sore and he wanted to give them a break. Plus, he wanted a few moments to himself. As he sipped his martini, something he normally did not drink except he believed the dress called for it, Kathleen made her way over to him. She was smiling maliciously.



“I’ve seen that look before. What are you up to, Kathleen?” Loren asked.



“Just making a few observations about our friends, that’s all.”



“Like what?”



Kathleen stood next to Loren and turned to face the crowd. She pointed at the man in the stewardess costume. “The stewardess has done this before.”



“How can you tell?”



“Look how he handles the heels. He’s almost as natural as you are. Look at his hand motions too. His nails aren’t giving him any trouble. He’s done this before.”



“What else?”



“Linda. Those handcuffs on her belt are real, those aren’t costume handcuffs. Want to bet her macho husband, the stripper has been to her jail a time or two?”



Loren chuckled. “Could be.”



“No ‘could be’ about it. Plus, look at how exuberant he is as a stripper. He’s having a grand time playing the sissy in public. . . out and about as it were.” She took a sip of her gin.



“Maybe he’s just getting into the costume?”



“Oh, that’s for sure. You know what gives it away?”



“What?” Loren asked as he took a sip of his drink.



“His boner,” Kathleen said matter-of-factly.



Loren spit out his drink, trying not to choke as he laughed.



Kathleen giggled and touched his forearm. “Forgive me, sweetie, I’m crude, I know, it’s a bad habit. But I have been counting boners all night and he’s had more than his fair share. He particular gets excited whenever he touches his wife’s uniform.”



Loren squinted and could indeed see a bulge in the skirt.



“Boners never lie,” Kathleen said. “They’re like a male lie detector.”



At this point, Stephanie came over. “What are you two girls chatting about all secretively over here?”



“Boners,” Kathleen said, again causing Loren to choke on his drink.



Stephanie smiled. “Anyone’s in particular?”



“Bill’s mainly.”



Stephanie looked at Loren and smirked. “I had no idea Laura was into ‘boners,’ I guess you learn something new every day.”



Loren blushed. “I am not interested in. . . well, that.”



Stephanie laughed. “There’s one I know you’re interested in,” she said and she slid her hand across his crotch.



“You two should get a room,” Kathleen said.



They laughed. “In any event,” Loren said, “I think you have an overactive imagination, Kathleen.”



“Sweetie, I know my men,” she retorted.



Stephanie smiled into her drink. “Ok, if you know your men, tell me about Loren.”



“What do you want to know?”



Stephanie waved her hand up and down his body. “What do you make of this?”



Kathleen raised an eyebrow. “You want my honest assessment?”



“Absolutely.”



“That’s ok, Kathleen. Nothing to see here,” Loren said nervously.



Kathleen put her hand on his arm to quiet him. “Loren is a truly sweet man. He’s also a beautiful woman, both on the inside and the outside, and you have found the perfect man for a husband. I envy you both so much and I wish you both the best, if that means Loren is Loren or Loren is Laura.”



Stephanie and Loren stared at Kathleen with their jaws open. A tear appeared at the edge of Loren’s eye.



Kathleen finished her drink and smiled. “Of course, I’d keep the boy in a skirt for the rest of his life, but that’s just me.”



Loren and Stephanie burst out laughing.



“Skirts for the rest of my life, that I could handle,” Loren said. “But these heels are something else. They’re killing me!”



“Welcome to womanhood, dear,” Stephanie said and she kissed him on the cheek.



Loren was about to respond, but Kathleen cut him off. “A tigress approaches.”



Stephanie and Loren looked up just as Jane appeared next to them. Jane looked nothing like a tigress. To the contrary, she wore tan slacks, which were obviously her own, a masculine white blouse, and a tweed jacket which was probably her own as well. A brown plaid tie hung from her neck. Her short hair was combed with a side-part and she wore no makeup of any sort. On her feet were wingtips. The overall effect was either a lesbian librarian caricature or a slightly effeminate male professor. This “costume” was actually what everyone expected as Jane was known for being quite staid.



“Great party as always,” Jane said. “Greg and I have really enjoyed it.”



“Thanks, Jane.”



“I came over because I wanted to get a close-up look at Loren. Everyone is talking about him and that dress.”



“It is a beautiful dress,” Stephanie said.



“No doubt, but I think people are more interested in how Loren looks so feminine in it.” Jane looked Loren up and down several times. She seemed to focus particularly on the missing bulge between his legs.



“Some girls are just lucky,” Stephanie said with a laugh.



“I couldn’t imagine Greg would ever look so believable,” she said, motioning toward her husband. He wore the tweed skirt which matched the jacket she wore, a white blouse, lipstick, clip-on earrings, tan hose and closed-toe brown pumps with a one-inch tan wedge heel. “You really have achieved something amazing, Loren.”



“We’re thinking of keeping him this way,” Kathleen interjected.



Jane covered his mouth to hide her giggle. “That might not be a bad idea. Of course, your publisher might drop you, I suppose?”



“I doubt it. They don’t care what I wear so long as I keep sending in books,” Loren said.



“Plus, if he loses his job, we can always put him in a frilly maid costume and rent him out,” Kathleen said, causing Loren to blush.



Jane imperceptibly blushed as well. “Well, I could certainly use a maid if you decide to go into that line of business. How about it, Loren? Want to come clean my house?”



Loren smiled. “Yes, Miss Jane,” he said sarcastically.



Everyone laughed. As they did, the magician came over to see them. Then the knight. Soon, all the women and Loren were standing together. In the other corner were the men, who had begun to examine each other’s costumes. Suddenly, the stripper and the stewardess both slipped out of their shoes and traded them.



The stripper’s wife let out a laugh. “I knew it. It was only a matter of time.”



The other women looked.



“Give boys a new toy and they will play with it,” said the knight.



“Do you think we should break it up before they start stripping?” asked Jane.



“Hell no! If they do that, I’m whipping out my camera,” said the cop.



“Does anyone have a camera on them right now? I’d love to get a picture of this,” asked the bullfighter. The boys were now busily trading various parts of their costumes and prancing about in an exaggerated manner.



“You mean like this one,” Kathleen asked and she held up her phone and took several pictures.



“I want a copy of that,” said the cop.



“I’ll get you all copies.”



“What in the world are they doing now?” asked the bullfighter as two of the boys began comparing the size of their breasts.



“Men! It’s all about breasts, even when they’re fake,” said the pilot.



“I think this deserves a round of applause, what do you say, ladies?” asked the cop.



A moment later, the women all broke into applause. A few even whistled. This caused the men to look highly embarrassed and they quickly traded back the various articles of clothing they had swapped.



Jane looked at each of the women and Loren. “I think I’m taking my husband home before he does something I’ll regret. Stephanie, it’s been fun. Thanks for inviting us. She moved around the semi-circle and kissed each of them on the cheek, including Loren. Then she headed toward the men. Soon the others followed. Every single one of them treated Loren as if he were just one of the women.



“I guess I should collect Peter,” Kathleen said, when she, Loren and Stephanie were the only ones left.



“Before you go, Kathleen, I’m dying to know why you called Jane a ‘tigress’?” Loren asked.



Kathleen smiled. “Didn’t you notice anything unusual about her?”



“Not really, no.”



“You didn’t see the lines of her garterbelt? Or notice that her bra is leather? I saw the straps earlier.”



Loren and Stephanie looked over their shoulders in Jane’s direction. She was looking for her purse and her garterbelt straps were visible beneath her pants.



Kathleen continued. “To the outside world, she’s plain Jane, who looks so prim and proper you assume she can’t say ‘sex,’ much less have it. But underneath, she’s wearing exotic underwear. That tells me, she’s a tigress ready to tear her man apart. And for the record, Greg’s wearing a matching garterbelt and a matching leather bra, and he’s very excited by it.”



“How do you know?”



“Like I said before, sweetie, the male lie detector. You boys are worse than dogs with their tails.”



Loren laughed. “Does Peter know your theory on erections? He might be wise to learn to hide his.”



Kathleen smiled wickedly. “Oh, he hasn’t had any tonight, I can assure you that. Not without this,” she said, flipping her wrist over and showing them a key which hung from the bracelet on her wrist.



“What’s that?”



Kathleen blushed, but simultaneously her smile widened. “The poor dear was terrified something might spring up, so to speak, so we bought a little something to prevent it. And without this key, he can’t take it off.”



“You’re a devious woman, Kathleen,” Stephanie said with a hint of astonishment.



“If you think I’m devious now, just wait till Peter finds out what he needs to do to get the key.” She winked at Stephanie and Loren and walked off toward her husband.



Stephanie giggled. “I told you Peter was in trouble. I think her time with you has sparked something that Peter won’t soon forget.”



“Let’s hope he enjoys it.”



“It would be interesting to see, wouldn’t it?”



“Steph, let’s finish one adventure at a time. Always leave something for the sequel.”



Stephanie laughed. “I thought the sequel was when I sold you off to some prince to join his harem?”



“Wrong genre.”



She hugged him. “Good, because I like having you around too much to give you up.”



Everyone had finally left. Loren sat on the couch. The silver sandals lay on the floor before him. Stephanie was draped over his lap.



“Let’s clean up in the morning,” she said.



Loren ran his fingers through her hair. “Deal.”



“So tell me, how was your first trip out before your friends?”



Loren shrugged his shoulders. “They didn’t know. They thought it was just a costume party, so it’s hard to say this was my first trip out.”



“True, but everyone treated you like a real woman. They treated the others more self-consciously. And the guys, they spent the night trying to put on an act. You were natural. Everyone noticed that, how natural you were.”



“Yeah, that’s true. I felt kind of natural, very comfortable. . . except for the heels.”



“The price of beauty, dear, the price of beauty. But all in all, I’d say we found out you can handle yourself well, and we found out our friends probably will accept you,” Stephanie said with a smile.



“You know what else we found out?”



“What?” Stephanie asked.



“Kathleen’s a sex fiend! She had sex on her mind from the moment she walked through the door and it never stopped. She interpreted everything through some strange sexual filter. Right now, I’d say she’s got Peter tied to the bed and she’s making him sign his soul away!”



“Kath’s a trip. She definitely has her own take on the world.”



“You can say that again.”



“But she was right about you, that’s for sure.”



Loren shrugged his shoulder. Maybe she was?



Chapter 15: Lauren Chambers



A few weeks later, Loren stood in front of the mirror. He wore only a pair of satin mules Kathleen had given him. Since that night when Stephanie suggested his chest was getting flabby, he had begun to pay close attention to his shape, and what he noticed concerned him. His hips had become so wide most of his clothes barely fit any longer. His arms and legs looked soft and small. His face looked softer as well. But the biggest change, the change he couldn’t ignore, was the two small breasts hanging from his chest. . . yes, hanging. When he first noticed them, they were little mounds. Now they looked like little globes. Could Kathleen really be giving him hormones? He’d been wondering about this for weeks now. Could they really do this to him? And why hadn’t he stopped her from giving him the pills yet?



As Loren poked and prodded himself, he heard Stephanie calling. She was in the kitchen getting ready to leave for work. He pulled on a short pink robe and made his way to the kitchen.



“Sit down, dear,” she said. She wore a tan pantsuit she often wore to work. “I want you to get Kathleen to come over this morning. I think it’s time we told her.”



“Told her what?”



“Told her about you.”



“She knows about me.”



“No, she knows that you dress secretly. She does not know that you plan to become Laura.”



Loren swallowed hard. He knew there would be no problem telling Kathleen, yet somehow this felt like a huge step. “Are you sure?”



Stephanie laughed. “Loren, look at yourself. You’re wearing only a robe and slippers and you still look entirely like a woman. We just can’t hide you anymore, the time has come. And Kathleen will be the ally we need to make sure everyone else accepts this.” She closed her briefcase. “Besides, I have a surprise for you and I need her here to see it.”



“What kind of surprise?”



“It’s a surprise, you’ll have to wait.”



“What do you want me to do?”



“Just invite her over, as normal. I’ll show up around eleven and take care of the rest.” She kissed him on the cheek. “And wear something nice today.”

The invite came in a little late. You had to hurry to find costumes. There wasn’t much left in the stores in the way of decent costumes this late in the season. You ended up working with what you had at home to make the best of it. Maybe next year you’ll get more of a warning but for tonight these will do. You’re lucky it’s a warm night for October. Since you lost that bet earlier in the day the normal fall temperatures would cut right through your outfit chilling you to the bone.



Your husband parks around the corner from the address on the dashboard GPS and you both make your way to the front door. He’s looking good in his suit. He doesn’t wear it often and he even took some time with his hair tonight. He mostly gave up caring about his looks when the kids came into your lives preferring to put that time and attention into them. You realize you’ve both outgrown the need to worry about how you look everyday but it’s nice to see him clean up and make an effort for you once in a while.



Leading you by the small of your back he says in a low voice, “Your rear looks great in those pants, honey.” “How many guys at this party are going to be staring at your ass tonight?” he asks.



“I know you think you’re funny but you’re not!” you reply. He laughs and kisses your cheek.



He reminds you about your promise to not stay at the party for long and you agree to keep it. It’s nice to meet new people and get to know co-workers so you were glad when your officemate mentioned her annual Halloween bash and extended an invitation to you. You told your husband about it thinking it would be a nice, quiet night away from the kids. After all your co-worker is older and older people don’t really know how to party, you think to yourself. He agreed to go but wants to get home early to ‘celebrate’ the holiday with just the two of you behind a closed door.



“Just tell me it’s not going to be fifty old women quilting and knitting while talking about their favorite flavor of tea?” he pleads.



“Just be nice! I have to work with these people.”



You head up the cobblestone walkway. The house is beautiful and a lot larger then you expected. There are fake bodies covered in sheets hanging from the trees in the front yard and very real looking gravestones off to the left. You’re a little surprised by the volume of the music you can hear as you walk up to the large double doors to ring the doorbell. When your co-worker opens the door you’re blasted by the music. She greets you both warmly and invites you inside.



“Enter freely and of your own will.” she quotes Dracula with a laugh. “And leave behind a little of the happiness that you bring with you.”



You’re impressed by the tight prom dress her body is able to pull off. She looks great. The blood dripping down her exposed cleavage from a ‘slashed’ throat is very life-like. The wound on her throat is almost disturbing in its authenticity and she’s wearing a white corsage freshly spattered with blood. All together she makes a great prom-night murder victim.



The house is packed with spooks and goblins and is decorated better than a set of a horror movie. There is a fountain on the center of the table off to one side that looks like its spouting blood. Cobwebs are everywhere as well as life-like skulls and black lace adorns everything. The house is creepy yet tasteful, no cheap dollar store decorations or cheesy, fake heads can be seen.



Costumed party goers are everywhere. You start to regret taking such little time to make your own. You excuse yourself past a man dressed as Mount Rushmore. He’s got three head attached to his shoulders and his face is painted gray to make the fourth president. It’s a great costume and you wonder how much time he spent constructing it. You see Star Trek uniforms and super-heroes all over. The Scarecrow and Dorothy complete with Toto are hanging by the fireplace. The house is packed and everybody is involved in polite conversation. ‘Thriller’ from the late, great Michael Jackson is currently blasting away on the sound-system and a few people are dancing. At a coffin made into a min-bar your husband gets you a beaker full of some kind of neon-green alcohol. It tastes like green-apples with about three metric tons of sugar but it’s fun to drink and goes down smooth. You’ll be having more of these.



Your suit pants are making you itch in a very private place. You made a stupid bet with hubby earlier in the day over the name of an actor in an old movie. The price for your lack of trivia knowledge on that old film cost you the right to wear any underwear to the party. You know he’s thrilled with himself for thinking of the bet and even more thrilled that you’re actually going through with it. Your silk top is showing off your nipples to everybody who bothers to look and his hand keeps touching and squeezing your ass every chance he gets. You like the attention from him but you are very aware of your lack of under- clothing and it makes you feel a little nervous. It’s a good thing you don’t know too many people here.



You eventually move on to chatting with other people in the room, enjoying the fun atmosphere. It’s funny how Halloween can bring out the childish, mischievous side in adults. You notice lots of people drinking and having fun. There are even a few couples off in corners talking quietly and making out. If you blink you might think you’ve leapt back in time to a party in high school. This is definitely not the party you expected your co-worker to throw. Usually she’s so reserved you expected the party to be dull. You are very pleased to be proven wrong.



You mention to your husband that you’re having a nice time and he leans in to kiss you and says, “Maybe we can stay a little longer?”



You head outside to find a large backyard and more decorations. Jack-o-lanterns and scarecrows abound. Party goers sit upon stacks of hay around a bonfire. There is another dance floor out here on the deck with the music pumping from speakers hidden inside of the biggest pumpkins you ever seen. The party is really raging here in the backyard and the energy is starting to work its magic along with the green stuff you’ve been steadily downing since you arrived. You make your way to a small bar off the side of the patio, watching the dancers move and grabbing another beaker of green goo when you find yours empty. You open a conversation with another couple nearby while you start to munch on the peeled grape ‘eyeball’ snack offered on the counter.



“I can’t believe they used the old peeled grape trick.” Your husband says to them gesturing to the snacks on the bar.



“To make them look like eyeballs? I know. My mother used to do that for us at Halloween,” the other woman replies.



“What are you wearing?” the woman asks, looking up and down each of you.



“The real question is ‘What am I not wearing?’” you think to yourself.



“We didn’t have much time to put together costumes so we’re dressed as a divorce!” your husband explains. You are each wearing a business suit with small pieces of yellow legal paper pinned randomly to your clothes.



“I’m a Law Suit and she’s a Counter-Suit, get it?” he asks.



She laughs when the joke hits her and says, “Lord, I hope there’s no real divorce to worry about!”



“Not at all, not at all, this is just what we could come up with on short notice,” your husband says.



The couple is younger and attractive and can’t seem to keep their hands off of each other. She’s dressed like Catwoman and he’s dressed as the Joker. He’s got white makeup and a really loud purple suit. Her outfit is so tight it must have been painted on. You have your suspicions about her sharing your lack of underwear. There’s no way even a thong could fit inside of those pants. You talk for a good hour and the conversation moves from old trick or treat stories to kids to jobs and eventually to sex.



“I just don’t understand why all men want is sex, sex, sex,” you say to her.



“I know. It can be annoying but you have to admit it’s nice to be able to get whatever you want just by offering a roll in the hay!” she says with a laugh.



The men commiserate with each other over how much work has to go into getting sex. You’re having a great time and really enjoying how your husband keeps moving his hand from the small of your back down to your ass, grabbing a cheek or sliding a finger deep into the folds of fabric to tickle the sensitive treats he finds there. It’s very distracting but it feels nice through the thin pants you’re wearing. You can feel your face getting flush and your groin getting warm. Some of that is the drink but you know his attentions and the idea of wearing no panties in front of all these people are the real culprits. The other husband orders shots for all four of you from the zombie tending bar. He lines them up for the four of you and offers a toast.



“To Halloween memories and new friends! May they both last a long time.”



With that, you all down the shot. It’s like fire on your throat and it makes your eyes tear but the warm feeling in your belly almost makes it worth it. The other woman suggests leaving the men behind to hit the dance floor.



“My man hates to dance,” she explains.



“Mine too, so forget them and let’s go!” you say.



A familiar guitar riff hits your ears and you scream with joy as you recognize ‘I Want Candy’ from Bow Wow-Wow.



“I fucking LOVE this song!” you yell.



“Me too!” she yells back.



You join some other dancers on the floor. The two of you spend time dancing and singing along with the music at the top of your lungs when the chorus comes around. You each take turns shaking in front of your husbands, enjoying how they ogle and smile. You each get more daring as the music continues. You grind into each other and take turns smacking each others’ asses playfully. You’ve never behaved like this before, but something about this night and especially this lively, vibrant woman is making it all seem perfectly natural. The guys are laughing and having a great time watching you both dance. Your new friend moves in behind you and you can feel her leather-clad body mold into yours as she grabs your hips, teasing the boys as they hoot and holler for more. You notice your husband’s pants are popping and that makes you dance and misbehave even more. You try not to notice your friend’s husband is having the same problem but it’s pretty hard to avoid peeking.



Sweaty and tired you come off the floor with your new friend and grab a drink.



Your husband whispers in your ear, “How does all that smacking feel with no panties on underneath?”



You elbow him in the gut in way of a response and laugh. You haven’t had this much fun in a long time. You’re very shocked at your behavior on the dance floor. Maybe it’s true what they say about masks and costumes allowing people to feel free to act out their carnal instincts. A mask can make you feel safe enough to go wild and become someone else for a short time. It would certainly explain the raunchy behavior that you’re noticing all over the party in dark corners and sometimes even in the light. It takes you a minute for your brain to process what you’re seeing but you finally realize that your new friend is subtly rubbing her man’s hard-on.



“My God,” you think, “how can she do that right here?”



It makes you uncomfortable but it’s still arousing. You’ve had a few drinks tonight so you decide it’s time to get brave. You lean back into your husband’s arms and put pressure on his hardening cock. Quietly you move your ass left and right, slowly in a small pendulum motion. He’s got a hand on your hip. You feel him gently guiding your hips. His fingers squeeze you in appreciation of how good it feels. You’re doing your best to hide your actions from everyone but a part of you doesn’t think any of them would care if they knew.



“Hell, I’m a grown woman and this is my husband. Why should I care if anybody knows?” you think.



The men are talking about the latest video game they are into so you look at the other woman. You roll your eyes and she smiles at you. Her hair is in pig-tails and tucked under a leather mask shaped to look like a cat. You get a flash in your mind of her using the whip tied around her hips for more than just teaching criminals a lesson. Does Catwoman carry a whip? Your husband would know but you don’t want to ask and possibly embarrass this nice woman after only just meeting her.



She’s still quietly moving her hand back and forth on her husband’s thigh. If you hadn’t seen his cock bulging in his pants when on the dance floor you might not realize what was really going on. You hope she isn’t noticing the rocking of your ass against your man. You mention how bright the moon is tonight.



You wonder if maybe the old-wives tales about a full moon is true. Maybe the full moon is turning everybody into sex-starved werewolves. Her magical light is changing everyone at the party; forcing their animal passions to the surface. Making what was human into some kind of raging beast in heat. What if this party is really just an excuse for a pack of werewolves to trap and mate with human women? What if this entire field behind the house is about to explode into a blood soaked orgy of sex and violence?



You blink your eyes and realize that you’ve got to stop watching so many cheesy horror flicks during October!



The boys are still talking but you can’t get your mind off of animal-like fucking images in your head, especially the images of men fucking women from behind and howling at the moon. From the corner of your eyes you watch her hand stop and squeeze what you imagine to be the head of his cock. You start to wonder if he’s going to fuck her tonight and if he does will he use that whip on her first? Will he let her take the leather off of her body before driving into her? Or will he just cut a hole in the tight fabric at the crotch big enough for his cock to slide in? You can feel the fire stoking between your legs as you imagine him sliding the tip of the whip down the crack of her ass before snapping it to life, leaving a long, angry welt rising off of her ass. The feel of your husband’s cock pushing against your bottom is getting your heart beat up. Being wet without panties to soak up the juice is definitely not a good idea at a party with your co-workers.



You are about to excuse yourself to disappear to a restroom where you can wipe dry the flood that’s starting when a naughty thought occurs to you.



“He made this mess, he should be the one to clean it up,” you think to yourself.



You interrupt the conversation and explain that you both need to be excused to call the sitter and say goodnight to the kids.



“Hurry back and make sure you don’t leave before we exchange phone numbers!” your new friend calls out as you take your husband by the hand and pull him towards the house. “Don’t worry, we’ll be back,” you call out behind you.



“Where are we going, babe?” he asks.



“To call the sitter, like I said.”



“No, we’re not. We never call the sitter and the kids should already be in bed.”



“Well, I need your help fixing something.”



“Fixing what? Why can’t I just hang out with those guys? They were a lot of fun.”



“You need to help me fix the mess you’ve made in my pants, idiot!”



He’s quiet for a moment then he grips your hand tighter and smiles.



“So dancing like that with another chick really got your juices flowing, huh?” he asks with mischief in his eyes.



“You wish! But my choice in panties tonight is very distracting,” you throw back.



“Where are we going to be able to do the kind of fixing you need?” he asks.



“Bathroom,” you say quietly to him, “a bathroom with a lock! Let’s be quick before I lose my nerve.”



You make your way up the stairs past a Frankenstein’s monster who’s hitting on Red Riding Hood. You’re not quite sure if Red from the story ever had that much cleavage. Of course, Frankenstein’s monster was never that short either. You find one bathroom but it’s occupied. Besides, that room is right off the landing and wouldn’t afford much privacy. You find another bathroom off the master bedroom but you pass by looking for quieter digs. Feeling like Goldie-Locks you find bathroom number three to be just right.



You find a small guest room at the end of the hall that has its own bathroom with a shower and large sink. The bright light of the moon provides enough light so you leave the overhead lights off. You slip into the bathroom and close the door. You kiss your husband deeply, running your tongue over his and caressing his cock through his pants.



“So what seems to be the problem, miss?” he asks.



“I’ve got a leak that I need you to look at, sir,” you reply, joining in his game.



“Well, I’ll be happy to take a look but repairs like this can be expensive.”



“Oh, well I don’t have much money but I’m sure we can figure out some kind of payment plan.”



He lifts you onto the countertop and unbuckles your pants. You stop his hands and tell him to close the door. He looks over and pushes the door shut. It falls open again. “What the Hell?” he complains. He fiddles with the knob for a minute or two before declaring that it’s broken and won’t stay shut, let alone lock. He kicks off a shoe and drops it at the bottom of the door to hold it closed.



“Hey, that’s not going to keep people out,” you warn.



“It’ll be fine. I’ll hold the door shut if somebody comes by. Now where were we?” he asks as his hand grabs the back of your neck to pull you in for a kiss while the other makes a sneak attack on your breast.



As he teases your nipples through the thin fabric of your shirt, he tells you how much he loved watching them nipples popping through your shirt all night. This is not helping to dry things out down below and you tell him as much. He goes back to work on your belt and pants. You lift up so he can pull the pants off and the cold of the marble counter on your ass is shocking to say the least. You suck in your breath against the chill while you wait for your body heat to warm the stone. He doesn’t hesitate for a moment to push your legs wide and plant his face between them. His tongue is lashing your clit like he’s trying to punish the little sailor for rousing a mutiny in its tiny boat. You bite your lip and start to breathe deep as you realize the only thing preventing someone from walking in on the two of you is one shoe. Luckily he’s really good at eating your dripping box because it feels good enough to almost make you stop caring if somebody walks in. That’s when you hear the voices outside the door.



You grab his hair and push him away from your body. He starts to complain but you put a finger to his lips to quiet him. You can feel how wet his face is. “Lord if I’m that soaked I might have to find a blow-dryer to fix the crotch of my pants before I go back to the party!” you think.



You perk your ears up as you slide quietly off the counter. You definitely hear hushed voices in the bedroom outside the door. A man and a woman are whispering at each other. Their conversation is punctuated by stifled laughter. You grab your pants off the floor but before you can slide them on you feel a rough hand on your arm. You look up into your husband’s face as he shakes his head no at you.



You try to put your pants on again but he puts his lips to your ear and whispers, “Put those on and I’ll yank that door open!”



You glare at him but stop moving. He smiles and whispers, “I think there’s somebody out there with the same plan as us. Grab your shoes and your pants and get into the tub quietly.”



Outside the door, the talking has stopped. You grab your shoes as he steps to the door and opens it by a small crack. He turns to you and smiles the widest grin you’ve seen on him. He signals for you to come have a look. You shake your head no. He lifts an eyebrow and motions pulling the door open. You glare at him with venom as you step to the door, very aware of your very, very naked ass. He opens the door a crack again allowing you to peer into the bedroom. The bed is right in your line of sight giving you a perfect view of your new friend’s legs up in the air with her husband’s face between them. With your nerves on high alert you get a full snapshot in your mind of the scene. Her panties are on the floor behind him. You can’t see her face but you can hear her breathing loudly. She’s holding her ankles high above his head giving him full access to her body. He must be sucking on her clit because you can hear slurping and see her toes curling. You jump back, afraid of getting caught.

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