Her pussy dripping, Alex thrust the large vibrating pink rabbit hard into her cunt for the last time as she groaned loudly to climax. She lay still on the bed gently running her fingers over her chest as she imagined the day ahead. As nice as her self-fuck had been, she knew she still had work and the day was passing quickly.

Alex washed, dressed and swigged back a cup of tea before dashing out the door. She was wearing the outfit selected by Adrian the night before to work and today she was to complete a series of forfeits. Unfortunately Alex was lucky in love, but unlucky at cards and so the forfeit poker last night had all gone in Adrian’s favour.

Included in the forfeits was going to work with no knickers on, a blowjob for a stranger and double penetration to name but a few of the spoils of victory for Adrian. The first was easy as Alex had never liked underwear anyway and with that nice figure hugging black business dress Alex felt 100% sexy. Alex had never had a double penetration and although she enjoyed anal sex, she was anxious about what it would feel like to have both holes filled.

Alex’s first challenge was to slide into the car without excessively flashing her wet, bald cunt. However, Alex being the exhibitionist, she was half wishing someone would catch a glimpse. As fate would have it, she had her wish; as she climbed into the driving seat of her gull wing car the postman rounded the driveway gate. He was treated to a full view of her pussy as she swung her legs into the car. Realising this Alex ‘accidentally’ dropped her keys just outside the car door forcing her to straddle half in and out of the car to pick them up, thus giving the lucky postman an even greater view of that prized cunt.

With a mischievous smile she pulled away from the house giving the postman a cheeky wink. Alex had not approved of Adrian’s extravagant purchase of a replica kit car, however today she could forgive him. As Alex pulled into the car park of the offices she worked in, she started to plan in her mind the process of getting out of the car in reverse. This was particularly important in light of the fact that her boss usually made a point of parking next to her car.

Today was no different as she pulled the handbrake on and turned the engine off her boss pulled up. He was young to be in such a senior role and was also witty, athletic and apparently single! Alex loved his flirtations and in turn always went out of her way to ‘bump’ into him at coffee or deliver post and messages the moment they came in. Today she was going to have fun!

Alex opened the door and swung around to slide out of the kit car. As she did so, she allowed her dress to ride up slightly ensuring that when she parted her legs to climb out of the car all would be revealed. She timed it perfectly and from the prolonged stare of Richard her boss and the lack of banter she knew that her show had been appreciated. She hurriedly shut the car door and passed Richard as she briskly walked to the door of the offices.

“Morning Richard” Alex said confidently as she held the door to the office open for him.

“Morning!” stammered Richard, clearly flustered.

Alex proceeded upstairs and hung her coat up in the staffroom, checked herself in the mirror adjusting her cleavage to ensure ‘maximum’ boost. She skipped to her desk in excitement, knowing that the day had started great.

Mental note forfeit one completed, now for the next.

Alex was both Richard’s personal assistant and receptionist, which was great because she was able to know everything that was going on in the office building. Furthermore she was also able to check out the ‘talent’ as and when they came to the office. Half way through the morning one such ‘talent’ walked in and signed in at her desk. He asked to be pointed to the toilets, and as Alex pointed to the end of the corridor she calculated that he might be a candidate for her second dare.

He was gone for at least 5 minutes, so Alex decided to try her luck. She left her desk and down the corridor towards the toilets. The left door the Gents and the left one the ladies toilet. She walked confidently through the left glancing to the left where the urinals hung from the wall and stood there was the ‘talent’. She moved slowly so that he could notice her passing behind him in the mirror and she entered the first cubicle.

As she sat down she pushed the door closed but did not lock it. Her heart racing, she hoped that he would be receptive and interested in her smutty desires. Alex heard footsteps across the toilets and then a shadow could be seen under the cubicle door. With a creek the door started to open and as it swung back to the wall Alex could see that the ‘talent’ she so desperately wanted was stood before her…literally!

He was huge and very erect and Alex could see that there was pre cum dribbling at the tip of that pulsating bellend. He moved towards her and pushed his cock into her face and onto her lips. She opened her mouth willingly allowing the full length to fill her mouth to the back of her throat. She sucked hard and frantically move her hands around to his firm bum cheeks digger her nails in as she could feel his gland swell in her mouth.

As he was about to cum she heard the doors to the toilets open and was aware of someone else entering. She couldn’t see around the half open door of the cubicle, but knew someone was definitely in the room. As she tried to work out who had entered the toilets, that huge cock in her mouth erupted, spraying cum deep into her mouth. As he withdrew cum splashed across her face and down her front. Remarkably he must have squeezed at least 3 or 4 jets of cum after withdrawing from her lustful lips.

The ‘talent’ smiled pulled his pants up, zipped, turned and left. Alex was not sure how to proceed next but tried to clean herself up the best she could before exiting briskly. As she left she tried out of the corner of her eye to see who was standing at the urinals and although not certain she believed it was Richard, it certainly was a man wearing a similar colour suit.

She didn’t hesitate, she just kept moving out and through the door and towards her reception desk. She rounded the desk sat down and checked that her dress was straight and her hair in place. At that moment the telephone rang and she answered it. As she picked the receiver up she licked the taste on her lips and again mentally marked forfeit two as complete.

The rest of the morning passed with out much to report and Alex focused on ensuring the all the tasks set aside for the morning were completed so that she could leave for lunch on time. As lunch drew closer she could only think of the toilet experience earlier and the fact that her boss must have seen her sucking at one of his clients cocks in the men’s toilets. Alex took her last call before locking her computer and going to the staff room to collect her coat to go to lunch.

As she entered the staffroom Alex was surprised to see Richard and the stranger that she had given the blowjob to in the gents standing together talking.

“Alex there you are, I believe you’ve met Ed?” Richard asked with a smirk.

“Yes” Stammered Alex.

“We’ve met before, I believe I took your details down Ed!” Alex said more confidently.

“Well Alex I’d like you to join Ed and I for lunch today as I need some notes taking for our lunch meeting, that’d be ok wouldn’t it?” enquired Richard.

“Of course.”

“Well that’s settled then! We’ll go in my car.”

With that the three of them left the building sand headed for Richards car. Alex made her way to the rear of the car and Ed rode upfront with Richard. Alex’s mind was racing, but bizarrely she felt incredibly turned on. As the car pulled away she settled into her seat and listened to the conversation from the front of the car.

“Well I just want to secure the deal Richard!”

“I agree Ed, but that kind of money doesn’t come cheap.”

Alex interrupted.

“Where are we going Richard?”

“You’ll see!” Replied Richard.

The car fell silent for the next 10 minutes, but Alex couldn’t help but feel nervous and excited all in one. She had an urge to reach between her legs and concluded that she could discreetly touch herself without drawing attention. How wrong could she have been! As she parted her legs, she noticed that Ed had lowered his sun visor down at the perfect angle to watch her in his vanity mirror. Realising this Alex decided to give him the best view possible. Her lips parted she ran her fingers across her moist pussy lips.

She rubbed slow at first and then built in speed as she parted her lips to expose the glistening pink from within. She slid back into her chair a little more as she did she realised that Richard could see everything from his rear mirror too. He gave her smile as he looked up to turn a corner and then stop the car.

As he pulled in, he applied the handbrake, switched the engine off and swung around to get a better look at Alex in the rear of his car.

“Wow, isn’t she great Ed?” Richard asked.

“She sure is Richard and has a pussy that needs to be fucked!”

Richard got out of the car and opened Alex’s door. He beckoned her out and Alex noted that she didn’t really know where she was. All the time she had been playing with herself she had taken no notice of her surroundings and now she was a little irritated that she hadn’t half noted where she had gone. She was standing in an empty gravel car park in a wooded area, the sun was warm and there was little or no breeze to speak of. There was clearly no place for eating.

Richard took Alex’s hand and guided her down a pathway into the trees, closely followed by Ed. A few hundred yards into the trees he stopped and turned off the path and through some bushes. He stopped and Ed passed a blanket to him that he had obviously taken out of the car.

“Right my little cock sucking slut, we’re going to take advantage of that panty less, bald wet cunt and fuck you like you have never been fucked before!” Richard said with lust.

With that Richard unzipped his plies moved towards Alex and guided her down to her knees. She slipped her mouth around his cock and sucked down deep and hard. Ed had his cock in his hands and was wanking to a full erection at the sight of Alex blowing Richard. Richard slipped Alex’s Dress straps down her shoulders and over her breasts. Unclipping the clasp to her bra he let loose those lovely 38DD tits to hang in free in the warmth of the open air.

Ed moved closer and Alex reached out and pulled him closer again she pulled at his cock and guided it towards her mouth taking both cocks into her mouth. As she sucked the ends of those two mighty cocks she grunted through her teeth.

“So you both think you’re big enough to fuck me?” She demanded aggressively.

“Hell yes” Richard replied.


With that Ed rounded Alex pushed her on all fours, hitched her dress up to her waste and buried his face between her arse crack.

“Lick my cunt!” Alex is pleaded

“Oh no, we need to see to that arse first you cock sucking slut.” retorted Richard.

Ed flicked his tongue firmly in and out of Alex’s arse as Richard caressed her breasts and gave her arse cheeks the occasional smack. Alex felt so horny and out of control and realised she was being a little too noisy in such a public space. Richard obviously also felt this as he stuffed his cock back into her mouth to muffle her noise.

Ed pulled his face away from Alex’s crack and stood up so as to line his pulsating cock to her now thoroughly lubricated and open anus. He gave no mercy as he thrust the full length of his 7inch cock into her anal passage causing her to bite slightly down onto Richards cock.

“Easy!” exclaimed Richard.

With that Richard pulled out of Alex’s mouth and wanked as he watched Ed fuck her arse. Ed moved to one side to allow Richard a chance of fucking that stretched hole.

“Well she’s no Anal virgin!” declared Richard with a laugh.

“My cock goes in with no problem, she’s obviously had this arse fucked plenty before.”

Alex nodded her head as she panted for more. Richard after some vigorous thrusting pulled out and smacked Alex’s bum.

“Right, now for that Pussy”

Ed rolled Alex onto her back and lined himself up between her legs. His cock slipped effortless in to that hairless cunt as Alex groaned. After 5 or so minutes of fucking Richard moved behind Ed.

“Right kneel up a little Ed, let’s see if her cunt is the same as her mouth and can fit two cocks!”

With that Alex felt her pussy stretched wide as Richard slid his cock under Ed’s to double penetrate her cunt. Ed and Richard rocked steady and Alex could feel an orgasm building. Richard realising that she was about to come withdrew and beckoned Ed out. Richard lay back and gestured Alex to straddle him. She did taking his cock into her pussy. With that Ed climbed behind her and she felt the tip of his cock probing her arse. This is it she thought, my first Anal and Cunt penetration!

Wow the pleasure building between her legs as Richard and Ed fucked her arse and cunt hard. Ed was the first to come filling her arse with hot sticky cum. As he pulled out it trickled from her arse crack and down onto Ed’s cock moving in and out of her already very wet pussy.

“Fuck me!” roared Richard as he unleashed his load deep into Alex’s cunt.

The three of them lay there for a moment on the rug. It was Ed that was first to speak.

“We should get going.”

“Ok Ed, but lets get cleaned up first.” Replied Richard.

As Alex climbed back into the back of Richard’s car, Alex replayed the last 24hours in her mind. From her a silly card game had sprung one of the most exciting days of her life. Forfeit three completed, she now looked forward to the ones she must perform to Adrian on his return home from work. Perhaps, even more excitingly the telling of the details of the forfeits completed during the day, which she knew would blow his mind away.

This story can be read on it’s own, but it will make more sense if you have read Part 1 first. It contains details of wife sharing/swapping/slut wife, so please don’t read it if that bothers you.

* * * * * *

“Kim they’re gorgeous. Beautiful quality and so classy. It’s not fair; how do you do it?”

Kim smiled. Carole was her best friend and she valued her opinion, so having her enthuse about her latest captures was very gratifying.

“But how much did you pay for them? They’re expensive brands; they must have been over two hundred pounds each. Robert would have a fit if I spent that sort of money on shoes.”

“Nothing like that much,” says Kim. She was tempted to lie, but Carole is her most trusted friend and she feels a strong urge to tell her the truth, even though it involves some very intimate details. They say confession is good for the soul, well at this moment Kim feels the need to confess, to share her secret with someone else. After all it is the most exciting thing that has happened in her marriage. She pauses for a moment and then takes the plunge.

“The blue pair cost fifty pounds, the red ones were free.”

“You’re joking! Fifty pounds…and free! How?”

“The first pair I flirted with the assistant a bit. The second pair I went further.”

Carole looks at her. Those details are a bit cryptic and it’s obvious there’s a story attached to these shoes.

“Go on,” she says.

“Well,” says Kim. “To get the first pair I accidentally on purpose flashed my knickers at the assistant, you know the one we’ve mentioned before — the good looking one with the dark hair. Then I went back, but this time I let him see my pussy. And then things went further.”

“What do you mean by further? Don’t leave it hanging there — tell me what happened.” Carole is engrossed and leans forward in her chair, keen to know more.

“We went into the back of the shop and he took my skirt off and then…well you can guess what happened next.”

“Oh God,” says Carole putting her hand to her mouth. This is completely unexpected. Kim is quieter and less extrovert than her and the last person she would have expected to do something like this. It was no secret that her own marriage to Robert had had it’s fair share of bumpy moments, but she’d always been faithful despite a few tempting offers. She’d thought Kim’s marriage to Paul was stable; certainly Kim was the last person she would have expected to have an affair.

“What if Paul finds out?”

Kim looks down and to the side, avoiding eye contact.

“He knows.”


“He knows. I told him about the first time and it was his idea that I went back, and he insisted that this time I left my knickers off. I’m sorry, I had to tell someone — do you think I’m a slut?”

Carole pauses and thinks hard before answering.

“No, if he suggested it then it’s a joint thing. I must admit I’m very surprised, it’s not what I expected, but I don’t think you’re a slut.”

As the shock wears off it’s replaced by a feeling of excitement. Somewhat to her surprise Carole realises that her love juices are in full flow. She’s not the only one because telling those few details has left Kim with some very damp knickers.

Kim swears Carole to secrecy and trusts her completely. But perhaps a dose of confession is contagious because a few days later a combination of some wine and a particularly exciting lovemaking session led to Carole letting slip about Kim’s adventures. It certainly has its effect on her husband Robert because he cums immediately.

“She did what?”

“I’ve told you — she went into a rear room with the assistant. He took her skirt off, bent her over the table and fucked her from behind.”

Even though he’s just cum Robert feels his prick stiffening again.

“Did he cum inside her?”

“Yes he did.”

“And you say that Paul knows.”


Robert is almost fully erect again, so he pushes Carole onto her back and parts her legs. His prick slides between her cunt lips and he fucks her with relentless vigour until they both climax noisily.

Nothing is said afterwards, but they both know that talking about Kim’s adventure has been remarkably arousing. Carole feels Robert’s cum trickling out of her and reaches for a tissue. What, she wonders, did it feel like for Kim to have the assistant’s cum fired into her pussy; he’s a good-looking young man and Carole can’t deny a low-level feeling of jealousy.

For his part Robert is wondering whether he’ll ever be able to see Kim in the same light again. An image comes into his mind of her bent over a table, gasping and groaning as a young man with his trousers round his ankles thrusts his prick in and out of her very wet cunt. Robert’s cock twitches and stirs.

* * * * * *

The plane banks to the left and the morning sun streams through the cabin. Carole and Kim are sat in one row and Robert and Paul are in the row behind. They are there on their way to Florence courtesy of Paul’s credit card company. Because of the number of points he had racked up on his card they had offered him a short break in Florence and they had the option for friends to go with them at a nominal cost so they had invited Robert and Carole.

The deal was too good to miss and they’d jumped at the opportunity to leave behind the cool, showery weather so typical of England in April and head for a bit of Mediterranean sun.

By the time they got to their hotel it was already mid-afternoon, so they’d taken a walk round the local area and then gone for something to eat.

Saturday morning found them doing a few touristy things and then taking a late lunch at one of the cafes. The women said they wanted to do a bit of shopping in the afternoon. Robert looked at Paul.

“Shall we miss out on that? I don’t think they really want us tagging along.”

The women just shrugged; there was no point denying it, shopping was easier when you didn’t have a reluctant husband waiting impatiently. So the women headed off in search of clothes while the men decided to linger over coffee.

In truth they lingered a bit longer than they might otherwise have done because the roadside café was an ideal vantage point to survey a succession of attractive Italian women wandering past. A few remarks were made and Robert did wonder about mentioning Kim’s adventure. He was really curious and would have loved to quiz Paul about it, but couldn’t see an easy or safe way to raise the subject.

At thirty-six he was four years younger than Paul and although they didn’t have a huge amount in common they did get on reasonably well.

They wandered off down the street with nothing particularly in mind. They hadn’t been going long when the TV in the window of an electrical shop caught their eye.

* * * * * *

Kim’s phone buzzes. She flips it open and reads the text message.

“Hav gone bak 2 the hotel. Milan derby is live on TV. Can u get a taxi bak and meet us later? Luv. Paul”

She shows the message to Carole.

“Milan derby — what’s that — is it a race?”

“No, it’s a soccer match.”

“Soccer! They’ve come all this way to sit in the hotel watching soccer”

“I know, aren’t men useless. Still it doesn’t really matter, it leaves us free to concentrate on the shopping.”

They’re wandering down the Via degli Speziali and it seems to be a street specialising in shoe shops. They browse in several windows doing some hasty euro to pound calculations.

They’re particularly taken with one shop; not surprisingly it’s also the most expensive, but the window display is tempting. They haven’t been stood there very long when they realise that it is staffed by two young men who are looking at them appraisingly.

Without saying anything they each know what the other is thinking — it is so reminiscent of that shoe shop back home. Neither of them can deny that it’s also surprisingly stimulating and both of them are aware of a definite moist sensation between their legs.

They continue browsing in the window until Kim turns to Carole with just the merest hint of amusement in her eyes.

“Shall we see if they have any special offers?”

Carole stands upright and tugs at the sides of her dress as if she’s straightening it; it also has the effect of pulling the front lower and emphasising her cleavage.

“Why not.”

* * * * * *

Paul turns away from his phone and the text message he’s just received.

“It’s from the girls. They’re in a taxi on the way back. I’ll tell them we’re both in this room.”

Five minutes later there’s a knock on the door and Paul lets them in. Kim notices that the TV is switched off.

“Was the soccer any good?”

“Not really, it was a goalless draw, nobody scored. How’ve you got on?”

Kim holds up a bag.

“We scored.”

“Let me guess — shoes. And how much did they cost?” he asks with a wry smile.

There’s a silence and suddenly he’s aware of a certain tension in the air. Carole catches his eye.


Paul looks dumfounded and turns to Kim.

“It’s alright,” she says. “Carole and Robert know about what happened with my shoes.”

“They know…and you got these free…”

“Yes. We’ve been fucked.” Kim sits on the edge of one of the beds. “Do you want me to show you?”

Paul nods and Kim swings both legs onto the bed and leans back against the headboard. She parts her legs to display white knickers, but with an obvious damp stain between the legs. Less than an hour ago a young man pumped his sperm into her welcoming cunt.

“Take your knickers off”.

Kim hesitates for a moment, then hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her knickers, raises her bottom off the bed and slides her knickers down and off. Her pubic hairs are damp and matted and her pussy lips pout wetly. Paul starts to unbutton his shirt.

“I think you ought to go on the other bed,” Robert says to Carole. She reaches under her dress, removes a pair of lacy pink panties and climbs on the bed.

By this time Paul is removing his last item of clothing. He climbs on the bed and kneels between Kim’s legs. There are no preliminaries, no foreplay — Kim cries out as with one thrust he is deep inside her. He reaches up, grabs the buttons on the front of her dress, pulls fiercely and her tits spill out.

An almost identical scene is played out in the adjacent bed. Carole gasps as she is penetrated. There are no buttons on the front of her dress, but Robert pulls the shoulder straps down exposing her tits. Now it’s fierce animal sex, not lovemaking, two couples fucking intensely.

The afternoon sun streams in through the window illuminating a striking scene. In the hotel opposite a Belgian tourist stares out of his bedroom window.

“Justine, Justine. Come here quickly. Look at this!”

But of course the excitement is too much and in seconds both husbands are groaning and pumping sperm into their wives cunts. They lie motionless for a while; the room is absolutely silent. Finally Paul levers himself up and kneels on the bed. Kim keeps her legs open and sperm runs out of her pussy. He glances across at Carole. Robert is kneeling and the sun catches Carole’s gingery bush and turns it a fiery colour. Sperm trickles from her cunt. Kim asks for a tissue, but Paul takes hold of his prick and starts to stroke it, feeling it stiffen and swell

“No. Why don’t you both undress properly.”

Kim looks at Carole and she shrugs. They stand up and remove their dresses.

“You look fantastic. Would you please go back on the beds, but on all fours.”

Neither of them says anything and so they are soon back on the beds on their hands and knees.

“On your elbows please.” There’s a moments hesitation and both women lower themselves into position. As far as Paul is concerned the scene is just perfect. Two women bent over in a submissive pose with their most intimate places fully exposed. He moves from his position behind the bed Kim is on and stands behind the other bed. The others see what he has done and fully understand. Robert moves behind Kim.

Paul kneels behind Carole. He never thought he would end up fucking his wife’s best friend, but it’s about to happen. And he’s never fucked a redhead before so there’s a certain novelty there. He places his prick against her cunt lips, grips her hips and slides gently into her.

He glances across at the other bed. His wife is crouched there, sperm dripping from her cunt. Kim realises he is watching her, their eyes lock, then she gasps as Robert leans in to her.

In the room opposite Arnoud hurriedly pulls Justine’s knickers down. He tells her to lean forward on the window sill, then pushes his cock into a very wet cunt. Christ he thinks staring across at the room opposite, look at the tits move on that redhead, I’d love to fuck her doggie fashion.

In a moment his view of Carole’s tits is partly obscured as Paul reaches forward and takes hold of them. They’re ripe and firm with the nipples fully erect. Carole sometimes wears low cut dresses, so Paul has often admired her ample cleavage, but never imagined a situation where he would be squeezing them whilst ramming his prick into her from behind.

Suddenly Kim starts a series of frantic gasps and Paul realises his wife is about to orgasm. He speeds up to try and match her and then the room is full of climactic groans, cries and gasps. Kim shudders and Robert grips her hair as his prick jerks and he pumps jet after jet of sperm into her lustful cunt.

That is too much for Paul and Carole. Paul gives a final brutal thrust, Carole pushes back against him and then he is emptying his balls deep inside her as she shudders her way through a massive orgasm.

* * * * * *

“So, you haven’t told us exactly what happened in that shop.”

It’s three hours later and Kim and Carole look round the restaurant. They’ve just opened a bottle of wine and ordered some food, now they’re relaxing after a pretty momentous day.

“There’s no-one near, we won’t be overheard. Put us out of our misery — tell us what happened,” says Paul looking at Kim. She glances at Carole who nods.

“OK, we were looking in the window of this stylish shoe shop and we realised the two young men inside were aware of us. So we went inside and there was a definite atmosphere. They weren’t hitting on us, but there was a flirty playfulness in the air. We tried on some shoes and they were paying us compliments.”

“And to be fair we didn’t do anything to discourage them,” adds Carole with a smile at Kim.

“No, that’s true. Though only one of them, Marcello, spoke English. It was all harmless fun, until Carole leaned forward which emphasised her bust and Francesco made some remarks in Italian. We asked Marcello to translate and he said that Francesco thought Carole was a beautiful woman. Well it was obvious he’d said something more than that, so we told him to tell us what Francesco really said.”

“And what did Francesco really say?” Robert asks with a smile.

“Marcello’s English failed him,” said Carole. *He said that Francesco would like to kiss my lovely… and then he used sign language to indicate my tits.”

“And what did you say?” Robert asks quietly.

“I didn’t say anything. He was knelt at my feet touching my ankles and his hand strayed a bit higher. So I parted my legs; it was only slightly, I’m sure he couldn’t see anything, but his hand went up to my knee.”

“Then this other woman came in,” Kim says with a laugh. “The men just ignored her, they were totally focused on us and she soon took the hint and left.”

“So Francesco started touching my legs again and I must admit I was pretty hyped up, so I just did it — I parted my legs and let him see my knickers. He stared for a while and then he said something to Marcello. And Marcello said that they had more stock in the room at the back and would we like to go through there. So we stood up, they put up a closed sign in the window and we went through into the back.”

“There was no pretence of looking at shoes,” says Kim taking up the story. “As soon as we were in the back room Marcello started kissing me and his hands were all over me. He squeezed my tits and arse, then he slid his hand up my dress and I parted my legs to make it easier for him. My knickers were wet through and he slid his hand inside and started fingering my cunt. So of course I unfastened his trousers and took his cock out. It was lovely, he was big and hard, and he made it clear he wanted me to go down on him, so I knelt on the floor and took his cock into my mouth.”

“Francesco saw that and was impressed, so I did the same,” said Carole. “But I think I got him too excited because he made me stop. Then he bent me over the table, pulled my knickers to one side and slid his cock into me. I think he was desperate to get inside me because it was all very quick, but very exciting. He thrust into me with a really fast action and then he was groaning and pumping his sperm into me.”

“And what about you young lady?” says Paul looking at Kim.

“Marcello copied them. He bent me over the table, pulled my knickers to one side and gave me a really good fucking. It was nice, very nice. I quite like being fucked with my knickers pulled to one side instead of off; I wouldn’t like it all the time, but it’s a nice change. So I bent over the table while my Italian stallion rammed his big cock in and out of me. Then he came and his prick seemed to jerk and jerk inside of me for ages and there was that lovely warm wet feeling as he flooded me with sperm. When he’d finished he pulled my knickers back into place, we left and headed straight back here. So I came back with my lovers sperm deep inside my sweet married cunt.”

“You bad girl,” Paul says with a smile on his lips.

After the first real life day with my sub I was still on cloud 9. I positively bounced into the restaurant for breakfast; I would have another 4 days, at least, with Kitten. To say this was exciting for me would be an understatement. We had known each other for nearly 8 years. We first came into contact through work, she worked for a customer of my company and I worked on the support desk. She regularly contacted me for help on products and very soon we developed a friendship and occasionally things were flirty. We regularly spoke outside work as friends, but for a year or so that was all it was.

After about a year things got a little more interesting as the flirting got more and more serious until we were chatting very sexually but it was of a ‘vanilla’ nature. I knew nothing of her sub side and I had no idea about my hidden Dom side. We chatted on cam a few times but there is only so much you can do on cam and with words on a screen. We tried on a couple of occasions to get together but it never happened, for one reason or another. Then Kitten got frustrated with the fact that our relationship was purely non physical, she was getting all excited from our chats and was never able to touch me or I her. She called a halt to our cyber chats but we continued as friends, to say I was disappointed would be an understatement.

She then changed companies a couple of time and we lost touch. I then moved companies and lo and behold Kitten was working for a client company of my new company. We dropped into the friendly chat as though it had only been a weekend since we had chatted, not the 18 months it had actually been. We avoided the sexual chat for about 6 months, then the flirting started again but it was light-hearted. Then we started to discuss our sexual feelings and Kitten revealed her sub side. In the process of discussing the whole D/s relationship my Dom side started to surface. I started to give her instructions and tasks. Just silly things to start with, like spend the day commando under trousers and that sort of thing. She really enjoyed this and to my initial surprise so did I.

I started to research the D/s relationship more seriously and discovered a whole new world. A world I liked, not the darker relationships with extreme canings etc but the controlling, caring side of things. I started to get more daring in my tasks for her, for example, getting her to wear short skirts and no underwear, getting her to drive topless, to spend the day with a butt plug in etc.

When she disobeyed I would make her punish herself, sometimes it was physical, like pinching her nipples or spanking herself, sometimes it was mental, making her do something that was outside of her comfort zone, for example making an audio file for me, of her orgasming. Sometimes it was both, for example making an audio file of her spanking herself. But she thrived on this, she loved the fact that I was in control, and I thrived too.

I grew into my Dom role, and I cared for her greatly, I would never do anything that put her at risk, simply pushed her boundaries. The only thing missing was the physical side of our relationship. I missed the fact that I couldn’t touch her, discipline her myself, then soothe the pain and caress her. This situation continued for some time, with both of us growing within our respective roles, but all the time the frustration was growing, on both side, at the lack of physical contact. Unfortunately it was not possible for us to get together for various reasons within our personal and private lives.

It was getting towards the point where we were about to step back and go back to being friends, when this training course came up. Of course we both leapt at the opportunity.

The following morning I didn’t see my sub at breakfast, but the redhead waitress from the night before was there. She looked at me and smiled then looked around for my sub, then looked back at me with questioning eyes. I shook my head and gave her a masterful look she looked down and asked “would you like tea or coffee, sir?”

“Coffee please, Karen,” and she poured me a cup.

“Did you enjoy our gardens last night sir?” she enquired still not looking at me. I knew she was fishing and that she had heard my sub last night.

“Very much so, thank you Karen, that’s all I need for now I will beckon you if I need anything,” Phrasing it deliberately to suggest I was her Dom.

“Yes sir, I will be waiting to serve you,” she said, suggesting she was in fact a sub despite her actions last night toward my sub.

Arriving at the lecture theatre shortly before it began, I got myself a coffee and mingled. I found my sub and whispered to her “take a seat in the front row and wait for instruction.”

“Yes sir,” came a slightly nervous reply

I knew why she was feeling nervous, the outfit I had given her to wear today was quite revealing. She had on a red chiffon blouse over a black silk vest top and black lace bra, a black skirt suit with a mid thigh length skirt, red patterned hold up stockings and red patent leather 6 inch heels and the collar. “You haven’t added to your outfit at all have you?”

“No sir, but I’m a little uncomfortable, people will see my tattoos and my, um, curves.”

“Yes kitten, they will and so will I, and I do so love your curves, and the fact you wear your art rather than hang it on a wall where only you can see it. You should show it off more.”

“Thank you sir,” she said blushing slightly at the compliment “Yes Sir, I will,” understanding the implied command

When we were asked to take our seats I took one directly behind my sub. I wanted to be able to whisper instructions to her and watch the reaction of the lecturer. This guy was so boring he could put insomniacs to sleep, and I wanted to spice up his lecture.

“I will give you instructions during the day I don’t want you to reply just carry them out immediately,” I told her.

As the morning began I put my plan into action. “Cross your legs slowly when he is looking your way.”

Sure enough as the lecturer looked our way I heard the rustle of stocking clad legs against each other. His reaction was comical, it was like the cartoon double take. The skirt wasn’t short enough to show the stocking tops but did show a good portion of thigh.

I waited 20 minutes to let him calm down then instructed “uncross your legs and open them slightly.”

She complied and he noticed. His eye kept flicking back to the expanse of thigh showing, it was pitiful. He obviously wasn’t getting a lot at home so was taking his kicks where he could. This guy was a total letch and I was going to play him mercilessly while showing the control over my sub.

20 minutes later I leant forward again “hike your skirt up a little, just enough to show you’re stocking tops.”

She wriggled in her seat as she lifted her skirt. This time, when he noticed he lost the thread of what he was saying and just looked at her for 10 seconds. I could hear my sub breathing quickly now, either from embarrassment or excitement or maybe a bit of both. I was getting aroused too, my control was total, and his discomfort amused me.

I left her like that until coffee break. At the break, I sent her to the ladies to remove the vest top. “But sir people will see my bra through this top, and my back piece,” she stammered out

“Yes kitten they will, and I hope they enjoy the view half as much as I do. However, if they don’t it’s not a problem, this isn’t about them, this is about you and me. Are you saying you won’t do it?”

“No sir,” she replied quickly “just making an observation,” and she rushed off to the ladies.

I admired the view as she came back with the patterned lace visible through the chiffon blouse; I also noticed 1 or 2 of the other men on the course were looking as well. I loved their reaction and knowing she was mine, filled me with pride.

A thought crossed my mind and I looked around for the failing salesman from last night. I saw him by the girl serving coffee obviously flirting with her. When he saw my sub coming back from the ladies he couldn’t help but stare. Then he remembered the conversation I had with him last night and looked around saw me and quickly looked away then moved away from the serving girl and hid himself in the middle of his group of mates. I couldn’t resist a smirk to myself.

As we filed back in to the lecture the lecturer kept his eyes down seemingly going over his notes for the next session and getting his power point sorted. We all took our seats and he looked up, saw my sub, that was it, he was transfixed. For a full minute there was silence as he stared and we all waited for him to start, then someone coughed which snapped him back to reality. Spluttering and stammering his way through his carefully prepared opening, he resumed the course.

10 minutes into the session I whispered “stretch your arms like you have a stiff back.”

She stretched her arms and arched her back her breasts pushing at her shirt. Poor guy lost his train of thought again, as did a couple of the guys at the far right of the 220 degree arc of the theatre, as they saw what was happening.

“Hike your skirt up again, there are a couple of other people watching and they missed it this morning,”

Again she wriggled as she hitched up her skirt to her stocking tops.

“Cross your legs slowly.”

She complied, flashing some naked thigh above the stocking tops and I could see guys at both ends of the arc now noticing and paying more attention to my sub than the lecture, and I loved it.

“You are starting to get a crowd of admirers now,” I told her deliberately pushing her comfort zone.

I left her twitching in her seat for 10 minutes.

“Uncross and open your legs.”

She did but I wasn’t satisfied.

“6 inches,” I told her.

With her knees 6 inches apart they could see bare thigh above the stockings, then the skirt created a dark shadow so they weren’t able to see her pussy, but they were nudging their neighbours to tell them about something infinitely more interesting than the course.

“Undo 2 buttons on your blouse.”

She complied, exposing a very generous amount of her cleavage. The lecturer now was trying to avoid looking, and to keep his mind on the course. He was managing fairly well, but at least a dozen of the attendees no longer had any interest in the course.

“Undo another button and slip your hand inside.”

She inhaled deeply, stiffened slightly and didn’t move.

“Are you refusing to carry out an instruction?” I asked in a menacing voice.

She shook her head and slipped her hand inside her blouse.

“Stroke your breast, then remove your hand.”

She stroked her hand over breast causing her to gasp quietly then took her hand out and put it back on the desk. The whole course had pause for the 10 seconds that took. I was loving it, the control I had over both my sub and the course. I was also extremely turned on by this, but also filled with pride. Kitten was doing everything I asked, pretty much when I asked.

I let the rest of the morning session carry on undisturbed.

At lunch we sat together “Did you enjoy that kitten.”

“Mostly sir, I wasn’t sure about stroking myself.”

“I know, but you had better steel yourself as this afternoon will have you doing lots of naughty things in front of the course. Fortunately for you it is the breakout sessions so the group will be smaller, much more intimate. It’s a good thing I know the subject, as I don’t think there will be much on topic discussion in our group.”

When we had finished eating I told her “go to the ladies and remove your bra.”

“I can’t sir they will see my breasts and my nipples.”

“That’s 6″ I said telling her she was going to get 6 strokes of punishment.

“But sir, they are just for you.”

“That’s 12; they are mine to do with as I please. If I want to show them to the world I will. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir!” she replied with attitude

“That’s 20, loose the attitude,” I replied in an extremely stern voice

“But that was a jump of 10, you were going up in sixes,” she spat back petulantly

“I’m well aware of that, my maths is quiet good. I felt you needed a lesson in who is in control here and who is the sub.” I growled at her “that’s now 40, care to add some more?”

Her eyes grew wide as saucers and nearly bugged out of her head as she realised she had pushed me too far this time. Tonight’s punishment was going to hurt, the only thing she could hope was that she didn’t add any more, and by being good for the rest of the afternoon she might be able to mitigate it a little.

“No sir,” came the cowed reply

“Shame, I was hoping you would make it a nice round 50, but then we have the afternoon for you to rack up further misdemeanours and disobedience. Now go and take your bra off.”

“Yes sir, and I’ll be good I won’t need any further punishment,” she replied almost pleadingly

“We will see,” I replied to her departing back and she rushed off to the ladies to carry out my instructions.

As she came back into the canteen her tits could be easily seen, swaying delightfully under her blouse. Her sexy hard nipples and dark pink areola were clearly visible through the thin material. She was blushing profusely at this exposure but was pleased at the smile on my face, I was beaming at her, both in pride and pleasure but also to give her some reassurance. I was pleasantly surprised she had gone through with it, I thought she would lose her nerve in the ladies and this afternoons training was going to be very boring with only the thought of tonight’s punishment to get me through it.

She made her way back to our table and sat down. “Good girl, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Yes sir, for me it was. I nearly didn’t go through with it. It was only the thought that you might dismiss me as your sub that helped me go through with it.”

“Oh kitten, I wouldn’t have dismissed you for that.” I said gently caressing her hair, suddenly aware of how much she meant to me. “I would have been greatly displeased and would have had to punish you severely. Please understand that I know what you need, I have come to know you very well over the years we have been together, if only in spirit and by electronic communication.”

“Oh sir, I do believe you know me but I’m very shy really.”

“I know kitten and that is why we need to push your boundaries. Now, the course is about to resume, let us take our seats and see how far we can really push them.”

We went back in sat back to our seats; I looked across and could see a commotion happening on both ends of the arc as the guys who were sat further back wanted a better seat. The lecturer came in and everyone went back to their original seats, the guys at the back doing so reluctantly. I waited 10 minutes, letting everyone look at my sub and admire her tits, allowing them to think that was the sum total of the excitement. “Hike your skirt up again, higher this time just keep your pussy covered for now.”

Again the wriggling and pulling drew attention towards her several of the guys actually leaning forward but still they were denied a view of her pussy. “Now wait until the lecturer is looking then do a Sharon Stone leg cross.” His eyes were drawn down to her plump thighs as the stockings whispered against each other and his eyes widened as he realised he could see her shaven mound and the top of her pussy and then the other leg came over blocking his view. He totally lost his concetration at that point and took several minutes to get himself back on track.

Getting his thoughts back together, he quickly arranged the breakout groups, and assigned the different groups to rooms, before dashing out of the room, his erection clearly noticeable. I suspect he was going to the gents for some relief. The guys and lady that were allocated to our room were all smiling to themselves. I was a little surprised the woman was smiling, I expected her to be scowling in disapproval of Kitten’s antics so far. The fact she was smiling made me more horny, if that was possible. There were definite prospects here, as the smile hinted at the fact she was either bi or lesbian.

We went to our breakout room and sat down with me sitting next to my sub, and I let the discussion of the topic begin. The group was very good and we quickly had several excellent points to bring to the main discussion when we all got back together.

I whispered to my sub, “undo your blouse.”

“All the way sir?” she asked


She slowly undid the buttons on her blouse slowly hoping no one would notice until she had done. Several of the men noticed but didn’t want her to stop so were watching out the corner of their eye. The other woman in the group wasn’t so subtle and just watched. My sub saw this and blushed, which earned her a smile from the woman.

“Open it.”

She pulled the 2 halves of the front of her blouse apart exposing her generous tits, all pretence of discussion abandoned now they guys were also staring openly at her. “You can look but don’t touch,” I told them. “This,” I said pointing at her collar “means she is mine, anyone tries to touch and it stops immediately. Is that understood?” they all nodded in agreement. It was so amusing, there were like a pack of nodding dogs, but I was pleased they all wanted more of Kitten but understood and accepted that I was in control, the Alpha male

“OK kitten stand up and move into the middle of the circle.”

She walked into the centre of the circle of chairs and turned to face me with pleading eyes

“Take you blouse off slowly.”

She slipped it off her shoulders and held it against her body doing a little strip tease gradually easing it down her body then letting it fall to the floor. The woman, who looked to be mid 20s, scooped it up held it to her nose and inhaled my subs scent then dropped it back on the floor.

I took a good look at her, she was short and very slim, almost no breasts, an athlete’s physique with strong looking calves under her knee length skirt. She had dirty blonde hair cut in a bob and blue eyes. Her arms were like sticks with delicate looking hands.

My sub stood there trying to cover hers breast with her arms

“Don’t be shy kitten, they have already seen them.”

She put her arms down and stood there

“Now hitch your skirt up.”

She started to pull it up

“Slowly and dance” I added

She started moving, dancing to a tune in her head, gradually easing her skirt higher and higher, showing her damp stocking tops and glistening thighs, she was clearly aroused. She paused just as it reached the level of her pussy

“Keep going,” I told her and she hitched it higher, exposing the fact she wasn’t wearing any panties, her wet lips, shaven mound and ample curvy ass on full view. I wanted to take her there and then but this wasn’t just about sex this was about control and protection. If anyone tried to touch they would feel the full power of my wrath.

I let her dance for a couple of minutes with her skirt up while I moved a couple of chairs out of the way and dragged a table into the gap.

“I think you may as well take it off now.”

She pushed the skirt back down, but only long enough to undo it, and then slid it down her legs.

“Come here, sit on the table.”

She did so perching on the edge.

“Play with your breasts, caress them for us.”

She lifted both hands to her tits massaging them, stroking them, squeezing them gently.

“No need to keep too quiet now we are all friends here, but we don’t want to disturb the other groups, so not too loud,” I told her and she started to groan quietly

“Pinch your nipples.” she did so gasping gently as she pinched each.

“Pinch them properly,” I said.

Reaching over I pinched them hard causing her to cry out.

“Now you do it,” and she reached up again pinch her own nipples hard causing them to go white between her fingers biting her lip and moaning. I was rock hard in my trousers.

“Amy, I need to straighten a couple of things out with you.”

The morning’s events at the supermarket worried me. Amy had been in a very playful mood, and she was being very provocative, pushing me to see how daring I was prepared to be – or how daring I was prepared to let her be. I felt sure that her over-the-top display was her way of over-compensating for being dumped by her boyfriend, and I didn’t want her to start something with me that she would regret later. And, however tempting it was for me to take advantage of her openness and sexual teasing, she was young, I liked her, and I didn’t want to lose her as a model, or to lose her as a friend. It was very flattering that she seemed to be flirting with me quite seriously, but to be really honest, I was also scared of getting too close to her and then losing her completely. I wasn’t ready for unrequited love.

Nevertheless, here I was, sitting in my kitchen, without a stitch on, watching this beautiful girl, who was also stark naked, calmly putting my groceries away for me. And I had to admit to myself that I was becoming very fond of her and I very much wanted to fuck her.

“That sounds ominous,” she said. “Am I in trouble?”

“No, but I don’t want this to get out of control.”

“You don’t want what to get out of control?”

“You…me…this arrangement…where this is heading – because after this morning I don’t know what you think comes next. I love it that you are so relaxed and open with me. I am happy for my house to be Naked City, because I love looking at you without your clothes on, and I have to admit it is nicely erotic to be in the same place as you when you’re naked, and to be naked with you.”


“But I am twice your age – and please don’t say anything about that, it’s true. And you have a boyfriend who you love and who loves you and who isn’t very tolerant of you getting too personal with other men. And I’m not quite ready to get arrested with you just because you can’t keep your clothes on in public.”


“I’m sorry?”

“I HAD a boyfriend. I think that’s all over, Sam. I’ve called him lots of times in the last week, but he doesn’t even want to speak to me. I want him back, but I hurt him badly, and I don’t think he’ll ever forgive me.”

There wasn’t much I could say in response to that. It sounded like she was probably right, and I didn’t want to lose her respect by mouthing platitudes. She stood silently leaning against the kitchen bench for a minute or two, staring at her feet. When she spoke, she was much more subdued than she had been earlier in the day.

“Did I really embarrass you this morning? I used to tease Craig by flashing him in public like that, and it embarrassed him something awful, but the more he told me stop it, the more provocative I was. I couldn’t help it. Now he thinks I’m a whore. I was just playing, Sam, just cheering myself up, but I won’t do things like that anymore if you don’t like it.”

The right thing would have been to tell her that I would appreciate it very much if she behaved in a more responsible and restrained manner in future, because I was a respectable middle-aged widower with children her age and a reputation in the community. That’s what I should have said.

“But I did like it. I liked it very much. It was…thrilling.”

“Really?” Amy’s eyes lit up. That was obviously something that her easily embarrassed boyfriend had never told her. I wasn’t sure at the time if it was wise of me to have told her either, but it was the truth.

“Yes, really. When you so calmly lifted your top right up and then held it up, I couldn’t breathe. I thought my heart had stopped. And you looked so…calm and… knowing and….”

I wasn’t expressing myself very well, but Amy seemed to understand exactly what I was trying to say, and jumped in.

“That’s it, when I do something like that, I KNOW. I know everything that’s happening at that moment. I knew what you were thinking, I knew exactly what was going through Bob the Builder’s mind, and it’s like the world has slowed down and I’m in complete control of it. It makes me feel so powerful. And you know what else?”


“It makes my pussy wet like I’m about to cum. Like somebody is rubbing my clit. It’s just the best feeling.” She screwed up her face and looked at me. “Is that normal – I mean you don’t think there’s something wrong with me, do you?”

I wanted to laugh at the naivety of what she was asking me, but I knew she would be insulted if I did because to her it was a serious question.

“In what way? You mean physically?”

“No, mentally. Do you think I’m some sort of pervert for getting so turned on by letting people see my body?”

“Of course, not, you goose. Almost everybody has some sort of fetish, something they do or they fantasise about doing that turns them on more than other things. In my book it’s a perversion only if it actually hurts people who don’t want to be hurt, but pretty much anything else you can imagine is normal, whatever it is. Exhibitionism is very normal, and you’re an exhibitionist. It’s why you do art modelling”

“So, what’s your fetish?” she asked.

“Same as yours, I guess.”

“What,” she laughed, “you like to flash your tits at strangers in supermarkets?”

“Amy, if I had tits like yours, I’d want the whole world to see them all the time.” Now we were both laughing, and her face looked sunnier than it had since before she broke up with Craig.

“Well, then it can’t be the same for you as it is for me” she said. “I get off on letting people see me naked especially when they don’t expect to. If you did that, you would be locked up for indecency. The closest I’ve come to seriously offending anybody is when some acne-faced fat-assed security guard wearing a ‘What Would Jesus Do?’ bracelet called me a ‘heinous minion of Satan’.”

“You’re right, I don’t have the urge to open my raincoat and wave my cock in people’s faces, the idea of doing that doesn’t turn me on at all. But I loved it when my Jeannie wore a sheer see-through top and no panties to a restaurant on a hot night just to please me. I loved it when a couple of hikers had to step over us while we were making love on a walking track in a national park. I love being here, nude, with you. I love you realising that I very much want to fuck you, even though it would change everything, which is why I don’t want to fuck you. I love skinny-dipping with friends at beaches that are not supposed to be nude beaches. I love it when you wear almost nothing out in the street but behave as though you’re fully dressed. I love the idea of making love with someone where we can both be seen, but where no-one knows that’s what we’re doing. I love…”

“Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Love the idea of fucking in public?”

“When you put it like that it sounds very basic and animalistic. I was thinking of something a bit more planned and discrete and tasteful. But…yes, I do.”


“OK, what?”

“Nothing. Just OK. Sam, I think you’re more of a voyeur than an exhibitionist.”

“I suppose I am. Yes. It’s why I mostly draw nudes rather than anything else, I guess.”

“I thought that was about art, not sex.”

“That too.”

“I like to flash. You like to watch. We could be the perfect couple.”

“And we’re also still artist and model, and tomorrow’s Monday, and you’re booked to sit for me at 7am. I’ll wake you at 6:30.”


I didn’t see Amy come into the coffee shop, but as she slid into the booth beside me I turned to look at her and I could see that she had the devil in her eyes. She was smirking like the cat that had the cream.

“I’ll have a latte and a caesar salad, thanks Sam,” she said.

“What are you looking so smug about?” I asked her.

“I’ve just been talking to Greta.”

“Greta my art dealer?”

“That’s the one.”

“Why did you call her?” I asked. I sounded a little suspicious, because I was. I thought that Amy was interfering in something that wasn’t her business.

“I didn’t call her. I bumped into her when I was buying this skirt and top. Do you like them?”

I definitely did like them. They hid very little, but in a casual rather than a slutty way, and I would have been happy to admire them on her, but now I was even more suspicious.

“I didn’t know you knew her. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’ve never met her before in my life. Sam, don’t get your knickers in a knot, SHE approached me. She thought she recognised me from your drawings and she wanted to make sure I really was your model, that’s all. I thought she was very nice.”

“OK. Did you tell her I’d been working hard on putting the show together?”

“No, I told her WE’d been working hard. Partners, remember?”

“I remember. Sorry. What else did she say?”

“She asked me to come to the launch. So I said yes. Well, you hadn’t invited me, so I thought I might as well accept her invitation.”

“She didn’t have to do that, of course I want you to be there. I would have invited you myself. Eventually. Probably. Maybe.”

“Beast!” said Amy, hitting my arm. “Just for that, I might not come at all.”

“Not even if I did this?” I said, putting my hand on her knee under the table and slowly sliding it up her thigh. As my hand went higher, Amy opened her knees, making her pussy more accessible. When my hand reached her groin I lifted my elbow and twisted my arm so that my palm slid across her lower belly, my fingertips resting at the tip of her pussy crease, just above her clit.

“If you do that, I’ll definitely come – whether you want me to or not.”

“I do want you to come. Can you do it quietly?”

“No guarantees, Sam, but just for you, I’ll try really hard not to embarrass you too much.”

Slowly, slowly, I inched my finger tips down to the top of her clit, and just pressed on the base of it with the tiniest circling movements. Amy was breathing more quickly now, and her eyelids were drooping slightly but she was keeping her promise to be quiet. The waitress had finally spotted that there was someone else at my table and came towards us to take an order. I tried to take my hand away, but Amy had anticipated what I would do and brought her knees together and put her hand on my wrist, trapping my hand at her pussy. The table hid my hand from view, but from the angle of my arm there could be no mistaking where it was. The waitress looked at us when she got to the table and her eyes widened when she realised what we were doing. She was on the brink of saying something to us, but she stopped and looked around the café first. It was obvious that none of the few other customers were interested in us or had noticed anything, so she turned back to us, shrugged her shoulders and smiled, as if to say it was none of her business what we did.

“Anything I can get you folks, or do you have everything you need for now?” she said, amused by the blissful expression on Amy’s face and the big grin on mine.

“A Caesar salad and a latte, please.” I said.

“No dressing,” Amy murmured.

“OK, I’ll get you one latte and a Caesar salad.” said the waitress, “And the salad will be undressed as long as you two aren’t.” Laughing at her own joke she left, shaking her head.

When she was gone, Amy relaxed her knees and let go of my hand, leaning back in her seat. My finger tips slid lower into the wetness of her pussy lips, and gently stroked the opening to her vagina, bringing the wetness up and around her clitoris and back down again. Amy’s eyes were now shut and her breathing was shallow and faster. I slid my middle finger down and into her pussy as far as it would go, then brought it out again to circle her clit, applying more pressure and increasing the speed.

Amy was now in a world of her own, oblivious to anything except the nerve endings in her pussy, but I was watching the other customers in the café, hoping that we were not drawing attention to ourselves, grateful for the muzak and general shopping centre clatter that was drowning Amy’s quiet little grunts. As she started to orgasm, her legs straightened and her thighs clamped my hand, my fingers still rubbing her clitoris as much as they were able to with their now very limited range of movement. Her foot kicked the chair at the other side of the table and several pairs of eyes swivelled to the source of the sound. One, a middle-aged man stared for a moment, then looked away with an expression of complete disgust. The other, a much younger man, casually dressed like a student, clearly approved of what we were doing, and watched the whole of the rest of Amy’s performance, giving me a thumb’s up and a big grin, as she reached the height of her orgasm. When the waitress came back with the coffee and salad, Amy was sitting upright again, her cheeks flushed bright red, and looking more beautiful than I had ever seen her.

“You folks enjoying yourselves?” the waitress asked as she put down the food.

“It couldn’t get much better,” said Amy.

“No, I don’t imagine it could”, said the waitress. “You lucky girl.”

The wistful way she spoke, and the fact that she barely glanced in my direction, suggested that her comment was not a sign that she was envious of Amy being with someone like me, but more that she envied Amy her freedom, her openness, her lack of inhibitions, and her obvious enjoyment of sexual pleasure – a pleasure she felt comfortable enjoying even in a public eatery.

I had to agree with her. Watching Amy come like that in public, completely relaxed and centered and unembarrassed by her exposure, made the rest of the people in the whole shopping center – including me – seem repressed and uptight by comparison. It was Paul McCartney who asked “why don’t we d-do it in the road?”, and I couldn’t help thinking that he had a point. Amy’s carefree attitude to displaying her sexuality in public was something to be envied not censured, and I resolved to try to be more like her.

Through the long telephoto lens of my DSLR camera I could see a young woman carrying shopping bags standing on the lower concourse of the shopping mall near the ‘You are here’ map of the complex. Click.

I was sitting at a café table in the food court on the next level up, looking down over the railing, watching for her. I had watched her go into the Urban Surf boutique and she had been there for some time. Now she had bags from at least four different boutiques. She was looking around, as if she was expecting to meet someone. Click.

I picked up my cell phone and hit the ‘call’ button. A few seconds later, she put her bags down, fumbled in her handbag, then put a phone to her ear and spoke her name.



“Hi.” I said.

“Where are you? You’re late.”





“Can you see me?”


“What then?”

“Stay on the line.”

She looked for a moment or two like she was about to say something else, then she bent down and put the phone on the ground in front of her feet. Click. She stood up straight and took a deep breath. She paid no attention at all to the people all around her as she took hold of the hem of her long t-shirt style dress with her fingertips and lifted it straight up. Click. When the hem was about waist height, she crossed her hands and kept lifting so that the shirt-dress was up and over her head and off completely in one fluid movement . Click. Click. She was now standing stark naked save only for her shoes in the middle of a busy shopping center. Click. Nonchalantly, she folded the stripped-off garment and put it in one of her shopping bags. Click. While bent down, she picked up her phone and put it to her ear again.

Amazingly, very few people near her had noticed what she had done. No-one had made a sound to attract attention to her action, so most people not actually looking in her direction had no reason to do so. Of those who happened to be facing towards her, a few were standing still, open-mouthed, hardly able to believe their eyes. Click. A young man was pointing her out to a female friend, and yet another was alternating between looking at her and looking quickly all around the immediate area, presumably for hidden cameras or for an accomplice.

“Now what?” she said.

“Turn around. See the escalator at the far end of the concourse? Take that up to the first floor.”


She spun around, and walked unhurriedly away from me. Click. There was another closer set of moving stairs that would have taken her straight up to the food area, but that would have been too easy. She would not have been seen by as many for so long had I directed her that way.

A group of three teenage boys were now following her. One of them ran ahead of her, then turned and watched her walk past him while he waited for his friends to catch up with him. Click. Then all three overtook her, and turned to stand in her way, intending to make her change her path to walk around them. She walked through the group as if it was not there, their bravado melted by her confidence and by her beauty. Click. More shoppers stood and stared as she passed.

She walked without any sense of urgency, and without giving any sense that she was not anything other than fully dressed. She even stopped to look in the window of a shoe shop about halfway down the concourse. Click. As she walked on, two sales assistants ran out of the store to confirm what they thought they had seen from the other side of the window – click – then went back into the store, giggling.

When Amy reached the escalator, she stepped onto it, then stood and let the stairs carry her upwards. She was someone with all the time in the world. At the top of the stairs, she stopped and put the phone to her ear again.

“I await your instructions, noble master,” she said sarcastically, in what was meant to be some sort of Oriental accent. I could not see her face, but I could hear the smile on it. She was enjoying this. Click.

“There is a sign above you to your left. It points to the Food Court. I’ll meet you in the café. Don’t hang around, you’ve been spotted.”

On the lower level, I could see two security staff in blue walking briskly in the direction of the escalators, one with a walkie-talkie to his ear. Click. I guessed that someone at the other end of a surveillance camera must have alerted them.

As Amy came towards me, looking completely edible but walking more briskly now, I stood up, holding another shirt-dress in my hands similar to the one she had recently taken off, gathered up so that it was ready to slip over her head. When she arrived at my table, she dropped her bags on the ground and held out her arms. In almost no time at all, she had put her arms into the sleeves and her head through the neck of the garment, I had pulled it down over her, and she had sat down at the table with me as if she had been there the whole time.

“I got you a latte,” I said as I switched off my camera and dropped it into one of her shopping bags. “You want anything else?”

“No, ta. That’s all I need.” She took a sip of her coffee, then beamed at me, her face pink with excitement. “That was such a rush, Sam.”

Very soon, two men with badges on their blue shirts and guns in holsters at their hips were standing next to the table, a little short of breath. Amy ignored them, I looked up and acknowledged their presence.

“Yes? Can I help you?”

The older of the two men spoke directly to Amy.

“Miss? Can you come with us, please?”

“Why?” said Amy calmly.

“Miss, you can’t do that sort of thing in here. You’ll have to come with us now.”

“Do what sort of thing?”

“You know what I’m talking about, don’t get clever with me.”

“No, I don’t know what you’re talking about, you’ll have to tell me.”

The security officer began to realise that his authority was starting to slip away. He was used to his uniform with its weapon intimidating most people he needed to confront.

“You can’t walk around here in the… in public. In the…mmm… without clothes on. In here.”

“But I’m not. As you can see.” Amy was firmly in charge, now.

“But you were. So you have to come with us. Now, please miss.” The guard made one last attempt to assert his evaporating authority.

“Officer… should I call you officer? You aren’t a real policeman, so I’m not sure if that’s right, but it’ll do. Officer, I can see how easily from a distance that you – or someone else as well, perhaps – might think this dress I’m wearing was my bare skin, but I think it would be very embarrassing for you and for your employers if you end up making a big fuss about nothing, don’t you?”

Amy had tried out all sorts of different types of clothing before she settled on the long t-shirt for this stunt. We had both thought that a coat-style dress that opened all the way down the front, or even some sort of cape would be quicker to take off and put on again than something clinging and figure-hugging that went over her head. What we quickly discovered was that almost everything else had to have some sort of fastener like buttons or a zip to hold it together, so even if that was Velcro which could be ripped open quickly to disrobe, it took longer to align and press together than it took to slip a long stretchy t-shirt over her head when it came to getting dressed again. Choosing one that was a pale peach color that almost exactly matched her natural skin tone – now that her Caribbean tan had faded – was a stroke of genius.

Both the security guards were now standing there silent, unsure of what to do next.

“Did a member of the public make a complaint to you, personally?” Amy had come to the same conclusion I had and was willing to bet that these guards had been set on her by the center surveillance people, not by anyone on the floor of the shopping mall.

“No, miss.”

“Do you see crowds of angry customers who are demanding you take some action because of what one of your surveillance people thought he saw?

The security guard looked around hopefully, but it was clear that the incident had already been forgotten by all but a few members of the general public in the immediate vicinity who were standing around waiting to see what happened next. He was now beginning to believe it was possible he was barking up the wrong tree.

“No, miss.”

“Then, unless you want to make complete fools of yourselves and try to arrest me with force, I think we’re done here. Come on, Sam, let’s go home.”

Amy finished the last of her coffee, picked her bags up and stood in front of the two guards, both of whom were slightly shorter than she was.

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” she said, making them step aside for her as she left the coffee shop.

We walked towards the elevators to the car park arm in arm, each carrying half of Amy’s shopping in our free hands. Amy had been careful not to actually deny that she had been doing exactly what they had accused her of doing, and I was sure that the two guards who were watching our retreating backs would know for sure from the way Amy’s ass moved that she was naked under her skin-colored dress and that the accusation was almost certainly true, but we all knew that there was no longer anything they could do about it. She turned to me and whispered in my ear as we reached the elevator.

“If this machine has a stop button, you know you’ll have to fuck me before we get back to the carpark, don’t you?”

Amy’s ability to keep raising the stakes kept my adrenalin flowing. She had just avoided getting arrested by two security guards, and now she wanted us to fuck as soon as we were out of their sight, while we were still in the building!

She pulled me into the elevator car as soon as the doors opened, but was very disappointed to discover that there were only four buttons, two for the shops and two for the carpark. No Emergency Stop at all.

“Damn. I thought they were all supposed to have stop buttons in them. Why doesn’t this stupid elevator have one?”

“So that horny shoppers can’t stop between floors and fuck in it?” I suggested.

“How inconsiderate. Whatever happened to customer service?” said Amy, as the doors opened at our carpark level.

“I don’t think that includes encouraging customers to service each other,” I said.

I thought that was quite witty, but Amy ignored it because she had other ideas. She pulled me across the underground concrete jungle towards where our car was parked, all the time scanning her eyes over the roof and the tops of the pillars holding up the shopping center above us.

“I think that’s the only camera on this level,” she said, pointing to a small smoky glass-fronted box pointed at the area that included the entrance and exit ramps. “but you can bet your ass center security is watching that monitor now we’re on it.”

She waved at the camera, kissed the palm of her hand in a very flamboyantly theatrical way, then turned around and patted her behind with it. Our car was parked in the camera’s direct line of sight, so I assumed that her ‘kiss my ass’ gesture was Amy’s final act of defiance to this petty authority and that we would now be going home. Instead, she pulled me round to the driver’s side, away from the camera, and began to undo my pants.

“What are you doing?” I said, “You’ve just made sure that you have their undivided attention, and those guards will be down here in seconds if they think they can really catch us at it.”

“They won’t catch us. Unless you want to waste time on foreplay.”

Amy pushed my pants down to my ankles and pulled her dress up to the waist, then leaned back against the car door with her feet apart. Faced with the exquisite sight of her glistening pussy all thoughts of security guards and surveillance cameras fled from my frontal lobes and some deeper, more primitive part of my brain took over motor control. Even if the building was about to collapse around us, I would still at that moment have chosen to make stand-up passionate love to this living breathing fantasy of a woman first. I stepped forward and bent slightly at the knees to get something closer to a correct entry angle, bracing my hands on the car door windows either side of Amy’s shoulders. She tilted her pelvis up to meet me and grasped my cock in her hand, guiding it home like a heat-seeking missile. There was almost no resistance at all as I straightened my knees and entered her fully in one smooth movement with only an ‘ooooh’ from me and an ‘aaaah’ from her.

“Holy fornication, Batman, I can feel that up in my ribs,” said Amy. “Smile for the camera, Sam.”

I looked up past her face and straight in to the lens of the security camera. ‘What the hell’ I thought, and gave it a big grin and a ‘thumbs up’ sign. They might have known what we were doing, but they couldn’t actually see anything below our shoulders, and they couldn’t prove anything from that angle, unless their camera had x-ray vision. Still, if I was in charge of security, I would have a couple of guards on their way to the carpark right now.

Amy had lifted one of her legs up and wrapped it round behind me, and she had her hands round my waist, her arms and legs both adding extra thrust as my pelvis slammed into hers with increasing force. It wasn’t the most sensual fuck we’d ever enjoyed, but it did have adrenalin-fuelled urgency which added an extra frisson of pleasure. Amy grunted and shuddered herself to an orgasm first, her excitement triggering the beginnings of mine. The ‘ding’ of the elevator arriving on our level and the grinding swish of the doors opening was an instant ardour damper for me, and I was all set to abort the mission when I saw that instead of two burly guards, the elevator was disgorging two young mothers pushing strollers. Neither of them looked in our direction as they wheeled their toddlers away from us, and I heaved a sigh of relief.

“I can tell that wasn’t Laurel and Hardy, after all,” said Amy, starting to giggle. “You’ve now probably got another whole 20 seconds reprieve, while the elevator goes up two floors and then back down again, so take your time, Sam. No rush.”

I started to fuck her again with a steady rhythm but it’s not easy trying to climax with someone who breaks into laughter whenever you look them in the eye. All hope of recovering my concentration and finishing my own orgasm had just about disappeared, so I accepted reality and decided that discretion was the better part of valour. I reluctantly withdrew from her sweet musky moistness and pulled my pants up from round my ankles, buttoning the waistband to keep them up. There was no chance of persuading Mr Happy to soften up in a hurry, so I left him sticking out of my open fly.

“You’ll keep,” I said. “I’ll deal with unfinished business when I get you home.”

“Promises, promises.”

She was now giggling like she had been smoking a joint rather than making love in public, and I had to unlock the door and open it with one hand, push her in and across the driver’s seat with the other, then I flung the shopping bags over her head in the general direction of the back seat. I jumped in and was about to start the engine when I heard the elevator ‘ding’ again.

The same two security guards who accosted us in the café came rushing out of the elevator, looking around to get their bearings, expecting to catch us in flagrante delicto. From inside the tinted windows of our car, we could see them, but they couldn’t see us, so we watched them trying to figure out which vehicle was ours, and trying in vain to get a connection back upstairs with their walkie-talkies. It looked like they had come to the conclusion they were on the wrong carpark level, because one of them pointed to the roof and the other one summoned the elevator car again. When the doors closed behind them, I quickly started the engine, reversed out of our bay, and headed for the exit ramp. Laurel and Hardy were standing by the elevator doors on the upper level by the time we got there, so Amy lowered the window and gave them a regal wave as we drove by and headed for daylight and the exit.

I felt an enormous sense of relief when we were back on public streets, even if the traffic was building up to afternoon peak hour and we were crawling along at best. Amy was laughing at the look on the guards’ faces and whooping with triumph. She had pulled off a major ‘showtime’ stunt, talked herself out of spending the rest of an embarrassing afternoon with the center management, then topped it off by fucking on camera in a public carpark.

“That’s about as much excitement as I think I could take in one afternoon,” I said.

“That’s a shame, Sam,” said Amy, with the devil in her eyes. “I was just thinking of waking up a few of those commuters out there, and giving them a treat.”

So saying, she reached over and took hold of my cock which was still stiff and poking out the front of my pants, then knelt up on the passenger seat. Hitching up her dress to make sure that nothing was hidden, she stuck her bare ass up in the air by the window and leaned over my lap. Just before she put my cock in her mouth, she gave me some advice.

“Hang on to that steering wheel, it’s going to be a bumpy ride.”

“Omigod, you two are SO much alike.”

Mike and I were on our third beer when Amy arrived home. She stood in the doorway and stared at both of us in turn when she saw us sitting at the kitchen bench , then she pretended to rub her eyes with both her fists as if she was having double-vision, then looked again and shook her head.

“That’s so scary. You could almost be brothers.”

“Except I’m the good-looking one,” said Mike.

“He got the good-looking bits from his mother,” I said, pleased at Amy’s surprised reaction at meeting my son for the first time.

“I can’t see any bits that aren’t good looking from where I’m standing,” said Amy provocatively but tongue-in-cheek.

She walked towards him, and he stood up politely, holding his hand out to shake hers. She went straight past his hand, held him by his biceps, and kissed him on both cheeks, European style.

“I’m Amy, in case your Dad hasn’t told you about me.”

I don’t remember him mentioning you at all, come to think of it,” said Mike, playing along with her. “What was your name again?”

“Sam, come here, I want to slap you!”

“You warned me she might get violent,” Mike said to me.

“And you’re next!” said Amy, laughing,.

I could tell she was pleased and relieved that Mike was not tense or awkward at meeting her. I had told her that he was hoping to be home for Christmas with us, but she didn’t know when he was coming. I kept his arrival a surprise because I knew she would stress about how Mike would feel about her and his Dad living together in the house that held so many memories of his mother, but I also knew she would handle it fine if it was just sprung on her. I wasn’t worried about Mike, he was more than mature enough to cope, and I was sure he would come to like her as soon as he got to know her, and I was right.

“I’m glad you’re home,” I said. “Mike and I had just starting saying ‘do-you-remember-when’ to each other, so now’s a good time to take a break from catching up, and he’s probably as hungry as I am.”

“What, you think I’m going to cook for you both like a good girl should? Dream on.”

“No, I thought I’d take two of my favourite people in the whole world out to dinner.”

“Right answer,” said Amy. “I’d better go and get ready.”

“She really can cook,” I said to Mike, when Amy had left the room to go freshen up. “Very well, in fact.”

“From what you’ve told me, I doubt there’s much that she doesn’t do well,” said Mike, already impressed with my lovely girl.

I hadn’t seen Mike since he went back to University at the beginning of the year, but we talked on the phone every couple of weeks. I had told him about Amy, how she had transformed my work, how much she had come to mean to me, and about her – our – somewhat unorthodox lifestyle. Well, not everything about it, but I had always preferred to be open and honest with him, so I didn’t leave much out, and he was never easily shocked. Jeannie and I had raised both of the twins not to be judgmental but to treat people as they found them, and I knew he would do just that with Amy.

That first evening we spent out together after Mike came home was the best fun I’d ever had in Amy’s company without her being naked. She was in sparkling form over dinner, and once she realized that Mike already knew about some of our adventures she kept us both in fits of laughter retelling some of our stories from her point of view, which meant they were told with a lot of embellishment, although by contrast, there were things she left out, and some she hardly mentioned. Tracey, for instance, was relegated to a very minor role, Buckingham was just one of the many staff at Fantasia, and although the recent afternoon at the mall was recounted in some detail, she left out the bit about sucking my dick for the whole length of Commercial Street in the rush hour. Mike was a good audience, concentrating on her every word, and in return, he was emboldened by her candour to respond with some stories of his own, recounting incidents he had been involved in that only a few short years ago he would have died rather than admit to with either of his parents in the room.

I had always imagined that Amy and Sally would get on together well, but Mike’s opinion about anything had always harder for me to predict. I was a little disappointed that Sally had chosen to spend Christmas skiing with her boyfriend’s family rather than coming home with Mike to meet Amy, but I was pleased that there was an easy rapport between my lover and my son. I put that down to Mike and Amy being the same generation, and I enjoyed sitting back and admiring both of them, letting someone else do most of the listening and some of the talking for a change. Amy had not dressed that night to be provocative, to be particularly sexy, but she just couldn’t help it. Her effect on me was always pretty much the same no matter what she wore. She could give me an erection wearing a potato sack.

When she spoke, her lips and tongue danced close to each other to shape the air blown out by her ribs and made audible by the muscles in her throat. When she smiled, her eyelids widened to reveal the blue-white surrounds to her blue-green pupils, her cheeks creased near the corners of her mouth, and tiny crinkles appeared at the corners of her eyes. When she laughed I could see the wet soft palate and the quivering uvula at the back of her mouth, both of which knew what it felt like to be brushed aside by my desire-hardened penis.

Amy spoke with her hands like an Italian, and her t-shirt, stretched one way and then the other by the twists of her torso and the gestures of her arms, was alternately loose and flowing or wrapped tight against the undulations of her body. The bulging side of her breast where it met her ribcage and the shallow dome of her nipple with its embossed central stud pressed themselves momentarily against of the inside of the material, then vanished again as she made another conversational point in a mixture of words and body language. As she spoke, sometimes our eyes collided, and she knew that I was watching her, observing her, claiming her, savouring her. From time to time she would reach up with one hand to gather an errant strand of hair and tuck it behind her ear. It was a gesture that allowed her middle finger to outline the ear’s whole shape then gently travel halfway down her neck before lifting itself away. It was a gesture of such casual sensuality it almost made me faint.

Mike was a media communications student so he was very interested in the photographs Amy told him I had taken during the ‘showtime’ escapades. At home later that evening I offered to show them to him, but he made a point of politely asking Amy’s permission first, even though he was not expecting her to object.

“Do you mind if Dad shows me his pictures of you when you are out in public naked? I’ll understand if you don’t want me to see them.”

“Do I mind? Absolutely not,” said Amy, glad to have been asked, because it gave her an excuse to bring up an issue that had been on her mind. “In fact, I wanted to ask you something, too. I expect Sam has told you about how we don’t normally wear clothes at home, and it will be a hard habit to break. I’ll try to remember to stay dressed, if you prefer, but it would be a lot easier if I didn’t have to be careful all the time – if that’s OK with you.

“Amy, if it’s OK with Dad, whatever you want to do is fine with me.”


“My darling, I didn’t imagine you would suddenly become coy, just because Mike’s here. He’s a big boy, he’ll cope.”

“Is that right?” she said with a smirk. “We’ll see.”

“You know very well what I meant.”

“I do. But you don’t know for sure what I meant.”

Mike was amused by the way Amy always seemed to have the measure of me, and I was glad that he didn’t disapprove of his smitten father’s new love nor of his exhibitionistic explorations with her.

“Where are those pictures, then?” he said.

Amy was interested in Mike’s reaction to her ‘showtime’ adventures and she sat behind me with her chin on my shoulder while we all looked at my photographs on her PC screen. There were a few really nice shots of Amy in amongst the other out-of-focus or wobbly images, but with a little explanation from both of us, each sequence told enough of the story for Mike to be able to relive the whole incident with us.

“Dad, these documentary sequences are a really neat idea. I think there is a publishing opportunity here somewhere. But you need to get better at taking the pictures.”

“I’m an artist, son, not a photographer. Besides, it’s not easy trying to keep an eye out for trouble and concentrate on taking pictures at the same time.”

“Sam tells me you’re a really good photographer, Mike. Why don’t you take them for us?”

Mike didn’t respond to Amy’s suggestion, but he thought about it for a moment of two, then asked me a question in return.

“What sort of trouble, Dad?”

“I don’t know. I guess you never know how people will react. Someone might harass her. She might even get arrested. We don’t exactly have permission to do this sort of thing, you know.”

“I don’t think you need it.”

“I don’t understand,” said Amy, sitting up, suddenly very interested. “You mean getting naked in public is not illegal?”

“I don’t know if it is or not, but you’re artists so it probably doesn’t matter. Look, I’ll show you.”

Mike typed ‘www.spencertunick.com’ into the PC and up came a website with a picture of hundreds of naked people on it.

“This guy is an artist. He puts an announcement in the paper which gets him all these volunteers – just regular people – to gather somewhere public, they all take their clothes off, he takes pictures, and then he exhibits them in art galleries. He’s famous for it.”

“Cool,” said Amy, taking over the mouse and looking at some of the other pictures on the website.

“The point is, he was arrested when he tried to do it in Times Square in New York. He sued the city, and it went all the way to the Supreme Court. They said it was ‘free speech’ and that he was protected by the First Amendment of the Constitution. Same principle would apply to you.”

“How did you know about this guy… Tunick?”

“I could say it was one of the advantages of a college education, but the truth is…” Mike took the mouse back from Amy and clicked on a few pages, then pointed to a picture of a rear view of several hundred people, all naked, kneeling as if in prayer in the middle of a city square. “…don’t you recognise your own children, Dad?”

I looked closely at the picture on the screen, then it dawned on me.

“This was taken in Central Plaza. Here in the city. Are you and Sally in there somewhere?”

“That’s my ass,” said Mike, pointing to one of the sets of raised buttocks, “and that’s Sally’s.”

“When was this taken? I don’t remember anything about this.”

“We didn’t tell you. We were in our last year at school, and we lied about our age. You were busy at the time.”

“That was just before your mother died. I wasn’t paying much attention to you guys, or anything else very much. Sorry about that.”

“You being on this website is SO cool,” said Amy, tactfully changing the subject and bringing our attention back to the picture on the screen.

“You’ve no idea how cool it was. At five in the morning in October, Sally just about froze her tits off, and I think you can guess how it affected me. It was quite an experience, though.”

“So will you do it?” Amy asked Mike. “Will you take the pictures for us?”

“Sure” said Mike.

“Sam, I think it’s time we did some Christmas shopping.”

“Case dismissed,” I said, as I hung up the phone after a lengthy conversation with Greta who was still down at the court waiting to celebrate with her lawyers. “And she was awarded costs, much to her relief.”

“Yesss!” said Amy with some feeling. I knew Amy in particular would be as relieved by the outcome of the trial as I imagined Greta must have been. Amy had been more outraged than I was that our work might be officially labelled ‘obscene’. In some way, she felt that the case was more a personal attack on her than on the paintings and drawings, that her freedom to be herself and explore her own sexuality was in some way being prosecuted and she was deeply offended by this.

“Why was it dismissed?” asked Mike in his best TV interviewer manner. His camera was pointing at me because he had been videotaping us working in the studio when the phone rang, and he had then taped whole phone conversation. “The media seemed to think the prosecution was pretty confident of winning this one.”

“Apparently the prosecution argued that what was on the walls of Greta’s gallery would fail the Supreme Court’s 1973 obscenity test, but the judge wasn’t convinced they had made a good enough case, so Greta said he dismissed it without even hearing the defence.”

“Good for Greta, I say,” said Amy. “She never let them intimidate her and she made it quite clear that she would take it all the way back up to the Supreme Court if she had to.”

“What is the Supreme Court test?”, asked Mike, with his camera still focused on me, tape rolling.

“I think it says that my pictures had to be deemed ‘patently offensive’, ‘predominantly prurient’, and ‘lacking serious artistic value’.”

As I said this, Mike twisted the lens of the camera to zoom out from my face, then he panned, slowly, onto and then past Amy who was sitting naked and cross-legged on the dais, to a series of finished and half-finished artworks stuck up around the walls of the studio. He held the camera stationery for a few moments on a picture of Amy reclining back away from us with her legs splayed and hanging over the edge of a bed, then he shut off the camera, lowered it from his shoulder and turned back to face me.

“That sounds like a pretty good description of your work, Dad.”

“Thanks very much, Mike. I do try my best.”

“That’s not funny, guys,” protested Amy, lacking her normal ability to laugh at almost anything on the planet, no matter how tasteless or repugnant. “I think this is very important, and it means a lot to me.”

“I know,” I said, hoping that Amy wouldn’t stay up on her high horse for long. “It means a lot to all of us. Especially Greta. She’s had some terrific PR from this.”

“Most of it negative, from what I’ve been reading,” said Mike.

“I don’t suppose people who buy our sort of pictures care much what the papers say,” said Amy to Mike.

“And Greta would have doubled her prices again already, I bet you,” I said, rubbing my hands together in an impression of Lawrence Olivier playing Shylock.

“I can’t believe you are so mercenary,” said Amy, clambering back up on her high horse again. “This is about Art, and freedom of speech, not money.”

“Amy, it’s OK. We won.”

“Yes we did, so how about opening some champagne, paint boy?”

“I don’t think we have any,” I said, ignoring her friendly jibe. “One of us will have to go down to the liquor store.”

“I think it has to be someone with clothes on,” said Amy. She looked down at herself and threw her hands up in surprise. “Well, how about that! Guess it can’t be me.”

“That let’s me out, too,” I said, turning towards Mike, who bowed to the inevitable and headed for the door, fumbling in his pockets for his car keys.

As soon as she heard Mike’s car backing out of the drive, Amy stepped down off the dais and walked over to the sofa where I was sitting and, facing me, straddled my legs and sat on my knees taking my cock in both hands and gently stroking it.

“He’ll be gone at least fifteen minutes,” she said, quizzically raising her eyebrows and giving me her ‘wanna-fool-around?’ look.

“Don’t you want to wait until the camera’s rolling again?”

“Of course not. He’s making a documentary about our life and our work, not a porn flic of you and me fucking.”

“What were we all doing in City Plaza, then?”

“That was different. That was in public. We had an audience. Now we don’t.”

Even though I completely understood what she meant, I had to laugh at her unusual logic. if we fucked in public, with an audience of strangers, that was Art, so it was OK to be filmed doing it, but if we made love in the privacy of our own home and let Mike film that, it would be ‘porn’.

Amy walked forwards on her knees until she was over my expertly stiffened cock which was hovering at the entrance to her vagina. She used the tip of my prick like a dildo to stimulate her clitoris and get us both nice and slippery, then she firmly sat down on it so that it slid into her in one breathtaking movement, and leaned forward, pressing her hard-tipped breasts into my chest.

We sat with our genitals enmeshed, holding each other close in a silence long enough for me to be quite sure that there was nowhere else on earth that I would rather have been at that moment.

“When Greta was here, did you like the way I tried to get her to play Hide the Sausage with us?”


“I didn’t think so. But I did think for a moment that she might just say yes, didn’t you?

“I was afraid she would, and I was wishing that you hadn’t made her the offer.”

“I couldn’t help myself. Sono fatto cosi.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means ‘that’s the way I am’.”


“No, provocative. And horny. And your cock inside me feels incredibly good.”

She rocked her hips backwards and forwards – only small movements, but her weight pushing down made sure that both of us felt maximum friction from her oscillations – and both of us were silent again for a few minutes while we tuned in to our respective private sensations.

“Do you know who I was thinking about getting to come and model with me for that brothel-keeper’s commission if we hadn’t turned it down?” said Amy.


She stopped moving on my lap and leaned back, looking at me in some surprise.

“How did you know?

“I didn’t at first, but I soon realized it couldn’t be anyone else. You knew we could afford to fly him in for a job of that size, and I knew how much you enjoyed modelling with him.”

I nearly said ‘how much you enjoyed fucking him’, but that would have been petty when I was the one with my arms around her body and my cock as far up her pussy as it could go. She either didn’t hear, or pretended not to hear, the slight hesitation in my voice when I got to the word ‘modelling’ and took what I said at face value.

“I did enjoy it. A lot. And I thought he would jump at the chance to do it again.”

“I’m sure he would,” I said, wondering which ‘it’ Amy thought he would like to do again. “Are you still planning to invite him over to model with you anyway?”

“No, I’ve got a better idea.”


“Not what. Who.”

“Who, then?”


Before my son’s name was out of her mouth, Amy leaned forward against me again with her arms around my neck and recommenced moving her hips, this time faster, with a lot more urgency. I assumed she did this to distract me and stop me from responding right away to that little bombshell of an idea. I understood what she was doing, and I knew that I needed some thinking time to deal with the idea. I decided that for the next few minutes I wouldn’t waste any brainspace on whether I could cope with Mike and Amy modelling together or not, I would much rather be fully engaged in coping with this gorgeous woman who was trying to iron my cock flat with her pubic mound. To my surprise, I found I was unable to empty my mind and just concentrate on enjoying my bodily sensations, intense though they were.

“Have you asked him yet?”

Amy was rocking with her eyes shut and she took a while to respond to my question. I thought at first that she was just being evasive, but then I realised that she was so focussed she simply hadn’t been listening . She had the concentration I wanted but had failed to find, so I asked her again.

“Mmm… what? No, I haven’t asked him. I asked you.”

“It didn’t sound like you were asking me. I thought you were telling me.”

“Alright, I’m asking you now.” She stopped rocking her hips on my lap, and sat back to look at me. “Sam, you DO want to do this, don’t you?”

“Fuck, or let you model with Mike?”

“This, of course,” she said, giving her pelvis a shimmy.

“Amy, my love, if there is ever a moment in my life where this…” I clenched my buttocks a couple of times in response to her wiggle so that I pushed myself just that little bit further into the beautiful body sitting on top of me, “…is not what I would rather be doing than anything else in the entire world, then you have my permission to shoot me.”

She smiled, and said “Right answer. I was beginning to think you might be losing interest.”

As she closed her eyes and started her rhythmic movements again, I thought to myself how wrong she was. Far from losing interest in her, she was every day becoming more and more the mental focus of most of my waking life. I was beginning to become a little afraid of how far my obsession for her – for that is what I recognised it to be – would take me, and I now had some idea where our future was about to lead us.

Recently, I had become aware that whenever I was with her I was memorising her, consciously and deliberately. Not just enjoying the unpredictability of her mind, or appreciating the unique form of her beauty, or relishing the soft and silken touch of her body, but storing her up and squirreling her away in my memories, counting the moments and noting the hours and marvelling at the months I had spent with her, not wanting ever to forget even a fragment of these now ephemeral experiences, none of which had ever lasted long enough, even before they began to fade like old photographs. Like an alcoholic for whom no amount of liquor could ever be enough, I wanted to drink her in, get mindlessly drunk on her, drown in her. When you have desire like that, like a raging bush fire, when you Want that much, there is no happy ending.

It was particular incongruous to have had that very thought just as my balls exploded in the happiest possible way, when I had one of two perfect nipples between my lips and nudging the end of my tongue, when I was hefting and squeezing a perfect buttock in each of my hands, when her sweet panting breath was making whooshing noises in my ear that only I could hear, when my eyes were watering from the pleasure of the Richter-scale orgasmic aftershocks clenching my pelvis. As we slowly relaxed and unclung from each other, I saw through swimmy eyes equal wetness running down Amy’s flushed and still blissfully smiling cheeks, and I thought, yes, this is how it ends. In tears.

“I never used to do this, you know, but lately, when we’re fucking, just before I come, I keep imagining you behind me grabbing my hips and violently fucking me up the ass as hard as you can, and the thought of that seems to make my orgasm huge, which is weird because I don’t actually like being fucked up the ass very much as you know, and it’s not that I want you up my ass instead of in my pussy, I want you to stay inside there but fuck my ass as well at the same time somehow, if you know what I mean, I wonder if it would help to try that with a toy one day, not a big one, but something that would take care of that wanting it hard up the ass feeling without feeling like it’s ripping me apart, or maybe on some subliminal level I want to be punished for being so happy, for being so free. For being me. What do you think, Sam?”

“I think you should ask Mike to model for us if that’s what you want. But let him pour the champagne, first, OK?”

Amy nodded thoughtfully, then carefully eased herself off my soaking wet but softening cock, cradling it in her hand as she slid down onto the floor on her knees. She bent her head and took it into her mouth, swirling her tongue all around every part of it, washing it with her saliva, then she moved her head back so her lips could pull and suck it clean. With her lips closed, she climbed back up onto my lap and kissed me, letting the contents of her mouth dribble into mine so that I could taste her juices mixed with mine.

“It would have to be pretty fucking good champagne to taste better than that,” she said with her arms around my neck and her cheek against mine. Then she turned her head a little and whispered in my ear. “Thank you, Sam.”

Amy was more surprised than I was when Mike said he needed to think about it overnight and didn’t agree to model for us straight away. She had simply assumed that he would do it without thinking twice, but it wasn’t until when we were in the studio after breakfast the next morning ready to start work that he told us what he had decided.

“It isn’t that I’m shy,” he told her, “Dad will tell you that there’s nothing unusual about anyone in our family being naked around the house, like you two are right now. It’s just that I’m making this documentary about you and your work, and that usually means being only an observer, not a participant, which is why I hadn’t volunteered before, why I’ve kept my clothes on – which, incidentally, has sometimes not been easy.”

“You wanted to keep some professional distance?” I ventured.


“So, you won’t do it,” said Amy, visibly disappointed.

“I didn’t say that. If you want me to be part of your work I’m happy to do that, but I don’t want to stop making this documentary. That means I need you both to help me by being part of mine.”

“What do you want us to do?” said Amy, much more interested again.

“I can’t just suddenly appear in Dad’s artworks without any explanation, and I can’t be in front of the camera and behind it at the same time, so all of us will have to share some of the filming. I can direct you, but you need to learn how to operate the camera so that I get footage I can use. I don’t want this to look like an amateur home movie. Deal?”

Amy looked at me expectantly, and I shrugged back to tell her that it was up to her, but she frowned at me which I took to mean she wanted me to make the decision. I had hoped this movie of Mike’s wasn’t going to take over my studio and upset our work routine. While he was hovering round the outside of our work, it wasn’t so bad, but I hadn’t planned on having to get involved in actually doing it for him. But I also didn’t want to disappoint Amy, so I nodded. It was worth it just for one of her smiles, which lately seemed to come with their own orchestral accompaniment, string crescendos which pulsed in my ears to the rhythm of my heartbeat whenever she projected one my way.

“Deal.” she said. “When can we start?”

“Start what? Me modelling for Dad? Or me training you how to be a cinematographer?”

I saw a triumphal expression come over Amy’s face, and I knew exactly what she was thinking.

“Oh, the training can come later, I meant let’s start by getting you naked at last.”

“We came to the studio to work, so I guess this must be the moment of truth,” said Mike, standing up and facing Amy, making it obvious that he was not about to be intimidated by her, and wryly amused by her interest in getting him to take his clothes off.

I hadn’t seen Mike without a shirt on since not long after he left school, and when he stripped his t-shirt up and over his head I was surprised how much his body had matured, and how much it had been shaped by his training with the college swim team. His chest and shoulders were much broader than they had been before, and he was more wedge-shaped with lean, flat, abs. When he undid the drawstring on his track pants and stepped out of them as they fell to the floor, I thought was how much his whole body looked like mine did when I was his age, except perhaps fitter and even better looking – not that I was going to admit that to anyone but myself.

Except for the brief moment when the shirt masked his face as it came off, Mike had not broken eye contact with Amy, not even to blink as far as I could see. He looked her straight in the eye, a small smile just creasing the corners of his mouth. She responded to the eye contact challenge with a similar expression on her own face, trying to be nonchalant and not look at his body, even when his track pants hit the deck. When she finally broke the magnetic force holding her eyes locked to his, her body language momentarily conceded defeat as she ran her eyes down his chest, across his abdomen and down to the relaxed length of hosepipe resting against his thigh.

Amy turned to me and made the same face-fanning gesture she gave Marlee after she had pulled down Buckingham’s shorts in our villa in Jamaica.

“Whew, you were right, Sam. He IS a big boy.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” I said, following her gaze back to what Mike was recently hiding in his pants. “Looks to me we’re about the same size.”

“I was talking about his shoulders. His general build. Not his penis,” said Amy, lying. “With you men it always comes down to the size of your dicks, doesn’t it?” She smugly licked her finger and chalked up a point in the air.

“Who mentioned dicks?” I said, “I was talking about the excellent genetics revealed in his physique. I think it was you that just introduced cock size into the discussion.” I made a big show of awarding myself two air points, then rather childishly said under my breath “I win.”

“Excuse me,” said Mike. “I’m beginning to feel like a lump of meat the way you’re talking about me.” He paused, then, playing the same childish game, added, “A big lump of meat.”

“How big?” said Amy, very directly and looking Mike in the eye.

Her very quick and firm response to his small piece of good-humoured banter took him by surprise. Knowing Amy’s penchant for being sexually provocative I was not nearly so surprised, although because of my presence in the room and my relationship to Mike I have to admit I was not expecting her to be so direct. Mike was only momentarily silenced, and promptly rose to the challenge.

“That depends,” he said, locking eyes with her.

“On what.”

“On how I feel at the time. Or…”

“Or on how someone else makes you feel? Is that what you were going to say?”

Mike inclined his head in an assenting nod. Like a dog with a fresh bone, Amy was not about to let go that easily.

“And how do you feel right now?”

“A little awkward.”

Mike clearly was somewhat uncomfortable, but he quickly clarified what he meant by that.

“Not at standing here in my birthday suit, you understand, but at being grilled about my private feelings by you with Dad in the room.”

Ignoring Mike’s push-back, Amy looked round at me as if she had forgotten I was still here. I was now the one who felt a little awkward, even though I had said and done nothing to cause that.

“Would you like me to leave?” I said, sarcastically, and not at all seriously, even though I was feeling like an interloper in my own studio.

“No, Sam, not at all,” said Amy quickly. “I think we would like you to do some drawing, wouldn’t we?” She glanced back at Mike, assuming his agreement and not waiting for mine. “That’s what we’re here for, and it might help Mike to give us an answer to the question.”

Amy took control, as she so often did when she perceived she had an advantage in sexual power. She stepped towards Mike, her hand outstretched. When he took her hand in his, she led him to the dais, kneeling on it and indicating to Mike to do the same. He knelt facing her, his knees comfortably apart, the tip of his cock just brushing the carpet, sitting on his heels with his back upright. Amy thought for a moment, then moved out of a kneeling position to sit back on her bottom with her legs stretched out in front of her, one foot either side of Mike with her knees slightly bent and off the ground. She leaned back on her elbows and dropped her knees sideways almost to the floor, presenting Mike with a perfect view of her pussy right in front of him.

“How’s that Sam?” she said. “I think I can hold this for about fifteen minutes if Mike can.”

“That’ll be fine,” I said, dragging my easel sideways so that I would be more facing Mike and looking at their two bodies from over Amy’s shoulder. “You’ve certainly given him something to think about while he tries not to move for the next quarter of an hour.”

I understood the game that Amy was now playing, and for the first time ever when working with Amy, the focus of the picture I wanted to create was not her exquisite body. Mike’s reaction to what he was being shown was what I was more interested in this time. What this young man was looking at was obvious from a rear view of the way Amy was splayed out in front of him, I didn’t need to show exactly what he could see because anybody looking at the picture would instantly imagine that in a very powerful way.

I drew quickly, blocking in the key lines and shapes roughly at first, because Mike had no experience of modelling for an artist and I wasn’t sure how long he could sit on his heels without moving. It sounds easy to just remain still for fifteen minutes or so, but it is a lot harder than you would think, and what feels comfortable for the first motionless minute or so can sometimes be agonising after ten more. I also wanted to capture the whole scene, and the simple fact is that with two bodies there is more to draw than there is with one so I was trying not to waste any time.

I needn’t have worried because when I stopped seeing and drawing what was in front of me as just shapes and forms and looked for a moment at the two of them as people again, Mike seemed quite relaxed and comfortable looking straight at Amy’s pussy with an amused half smile creasing the corners of his mouth. It occurred to me then that control of this situation had shifted from Amy to Mike. She had deliberately laid back in such a provocative way because she was expecting him to be unable to conceal his real feelings when both their naked bodies came into such close proximity. She thought that if she made it impossible for him to avoid staring at her glistening pussy, his body would betray him and override any intention he might have to appear indifferent. She wanted to make him get a hard-on.

To my astonishment, it looked like she was going to fail. I knew very well the effect her actions would have had on me, and I knew that when Amy does what she was doing to Mike she could give a hard-on to a lump of lifeless granite , so I was at a loss to understand why Mike’s cock was still just hanging down limp, gently touching the carpet between his thighs, not even twitching.

After about ten minutes Amy shifted onto one elbow and made a show of flapping her other hand to restore her circulation.

“Sorry, Sam. Comfort pause. OK?”

“Sure,” I said, unconvinced by her apparent inability to hold for more than ten minutes a pose that she could normally hold for three times that without complaint.

Before settling back on both her elbows, Amy placed the hand that was supposed to be losing feeling on her stomach and slid it down her body. From my angle, I could only guess what she was doing with it, but when she brought it back up to her mouth and ostentatiously sucked two of her fingers, I knew that my guess was correct. Without seeing it, I knew that her pussy lips were now gaping open and shiny and pink and lubricated. Mike didn’t move. He never stopped staring at her pussy, and his expression didn’t change, not even for a moment.

Just before the fifteen minutes was up I put the finishing touches to the drawing and told Mike and Amy to take a break. I looked at what I had drawn and it was intriguing. In the foreground was Amy with the back of her head towards me. Over her shoulders I could just see the tips of her breasts and behind them her splayed knees. Between her knees and facing me sitting on his haunches was Mike. The curious thing was that there was no doubt that both of them were naked, and that I had captured the angle of Mike’s gaze perfectly so that there was no doubt exactly what he was looking at and smiling at. Yet further down the image, contradicting his obvious erotic interest, was his cock, limp and dangling. Nobody looking at the picture would be able to ignore the question of why he did not have an erection. Was he indifferent to her? No, his expression was warm and approving. Did it look like he had already just fucked her? Not from the expectant way she was presenting herself, nor from his casual and relaxed pose. It was a puzzle.

I looked up from the drawing when I heard the door to the studio shut, and realized that Amy was no longer with us. Mike was sitting on the edge of the platform about to have a drink from one of the water bottles I always put near the modelling area. I looked at him questioningly and nodded towards the door. He shrugged and shook his head, then got up and came round behind the easel to have a look at my work.

“That’s… interesting,” he said, not sure what to say.

“Is it that bad?” I asked.

“No, it’s a good drawing. It just looks incomplete somehow.”

“How did you do that?” I said, pretty sure he would know what I was referring to.

“Do what?” he replied innocently.

“Don’t be cute, Mike, you know what I meant. How did you manage to not get an erection while you were staring at Amy’s pussy? Don’t you find her attractive?”

Mike looked me straight in the eye and became very serious.

“Hasn’t it ever occurred to you that I might be gay?”

No, it hadn’t. At least not until that moment. I frantically searched my memory of his adolescent years for clues that might confirm the homosexuality he was hinting at, but there wasn’t a single incident that I could recall.

“No,” I said. “It hasn’t. Are you?”

“Hell, no. Not at all.” Mike was laughing at the look on my face, which I was intending to be supportive and non-judgmental but must instead have looked more astonished than anything else. “I am SO not gay. That was a joke. I just wanted to see your reaction.”

“You’ll keep,” I said, kicking myself for being so easily sucked in. “So how did you do it? Amy’s used to being in control, and I think she must have gone off very disappointed at the lack of effect she had on you.”

“Given how she has you wrapped round her little finger, I don’t suppose that will do her any harm at all.”

Mike knew straight away that his comment had stung me a little. I had not been in the habit of thinking of myself as under Amy’s control, but I had to recognize the truth of the fact that I generally deferred to Amy in our relationship and if that looked to Mike like domination then I had to accept that. He broke the awkward silence by answering my question.

“A combination of some yoga and some meditation techniques. It’s not that hard with a little practice.”

“I noticed.”

“Ha ha. You know what I meant. It’s just ‘mind over matter’, and it’s not that difficult to separate your conscious mind from your autonomic response systems when you want to.”

“Why would you want to?” I said, not finding the idea of deliberately avoiding becoming sexually aroused all that exciting. Getting horny was one of the things that made life worthwhile. It had certainly made my life with Amy a rich and satisfying experience. Even if she was more in control of it than I was, I mentally reminded myself.

“Well, it doesn’t let me just control whether or not to get an erection, it means I can do lots of things, like ignore pain, or fuck for hours without coming if I want to.”

“Mike, can you wait here? I think I’ll just go and make sure that Amy’s OK. It’s not like her to just walk out without a word.”

Mike gently put his hand on my arm to stop me.

“Dad, don’t. She’ll be back when she’s ready.”

“You think?”

“I know.”

He said that with more confidence than I would have expected. My son had become very sure of himself all of a sudden, particular with the woman around whom my life revolved, and although I knew his advice was probably sound, I wasn’t that keen to take it. I wanted to go to her, to reassure her, to comfort her if she was upset. I wanted to take care of her.

Before I could do anything, the door opened, and in breezed Amy with a jug of cold orange juice, and some glasses. To my relief, she seemed cheerful enough, and she poured herself some juice, taking it with her to the podium.

“Sorry for holding you up, guys. Do you want to do some more work?”

The next few hours were very productive. Having a creative mind as well as being fresh to the task, Mike suggested several good combination poses. Amy did exactly what she was asked to do each time, holding each one for as long as I needed without a murmur.

Over the next few days, Mike spent some time teaching us both how to operate the video camera the way he wanted it done – how not to cut the tops of heads off, how to hold the camera steady, how to follow movement, how to pan very slowly when the image is static, that sort of thing – and together we worked on both our art and our documentary projects, drawing, filming, and talking both on and off camera.

Late one evening about a week after Mike started modelling with us, Amy and I were relaxing on our bed with a glass of wine, watching an old movie on TV. I had my arm around her, and she was leaning on me like a pillow, the back of her head against my chest. Amy had been no less affectionate than usual, but less talkative, more quiet and withdrawn all day. I didn’t get any sense that she was pissed at me, so I had decided not to intrude on her thoughts, figuring that she would probably tell me what was on her mind eventually.

She reached for the remote, and pointed it at the screen.

“Are you watching this?” she asked.

“Not if you don’t want to,” I replied.

She turned the television off and we sat in silence for several minutes before she took a deep breath and spoke.

“Did you know Mike has decided to go back to University?”

“No. When?”

“Soon. He’s signed up to do his Ph.D. He’s got an idea for a book and he thinks he can sell his documentary series idea to one of the cable TV companies if he’s back where the action is.”

“I knew he was thinking about going back, but he hasn’t said anything to me.”

“He will.”

The way she said those two words made me feel that she knew a lot more than I did, but she said nothing more, so I discounted the feeling and let myself simply enjoy her closeness. My arm was round her neck and my hand was resting gently on her left breast. I felt her nipple contract and harden slightly under my palm and I lifted my hand up so I could trace around her little pink button’s corona with my middle finger. As always, it tightened and puckered in response to my touch and I felt a little shiver of pleasure run through Amy’s torso, accompanied by a very soft and encouraging “mmm”.

As my hand went from circling her nipple with one finger to caressing with all my fingertips the soft crease where her breast met her ribcage , Amy reached up with her hand and trapped my hand against her tit, holding me still so that I could no longer stroke her. I became aware of my heart pounding in my ears as if this was a moment of calm before a storm. Gently, she took my hand away from her body and sat up, twisting around to face me. I wanted, as always, to stare in joy at the symmetrical perfection of her breasts, but I knew this time that it was important to look into her eyes.

“Sam, when Mike goes back, I’m going with him.”

Her voice seemed faint and far away, as if I was wearing earplugs, so that I wasn’t sure if I had properly heard what she had said. Besides the thumping in my head, I could now hear myself breathing, and the noise of the wind rushing in and out was drowning out every other sound. I knew what she was trying to tell me, but I responded as if she meant something else.

“I can understand you wanting to do that. You’ve become important to his work like you are to mine. It will be a good experience for you.”

“He’s the one, Sam.”

“How long do you think you’ll be gone?” She reached out and took my hand in hers, gently, and leaned forward slightly, speaking slowly and clearly.

“Sam. He’s The One.”

“Does he know?” I said, surprised at how calm I sounded, and puzzled at the absurdity of my question.

“I think so…yes. Yes, he does.”

Things really got dicey when I realized my three new friends, who had graciously invited me into their little neighborhood social clique was each, in her own right, a hornier beast than I was. This came as a revelation to me because I always thought I was the most sex-obsessed person I knew but these ladies were expert.

The three women are Marty Sutter, a handsome blond woman of sixty-one who fancied herself the ring-leader of the group; Lauren Babcock, a cherubic brunet who was the group’s reluctant loner; and Silvia Gomes, a feisty Argentinean woman whom, Marty had told me, was a lesbian. Both Lauren and Silvia were in their early fifties. All three women was good-looking youthful, and sexy. I had met Marty when I first moved to town a few months ago. We work together at the local University.

“Listen, my neighbors are like one big family. We all invite each other to our houses for dinners or to watch movies. Even Winter snow days are a blast,” Marty Sutter told me.

“We live within footsteps of each other and we come and go between houses all the time. Sylvia is my next-door neighbor and Lauren lives just a few houses down from her on the other side of the street. “

“That sounds nice,” I said. “It would be fun to meet some single, folks. After thirty-five years of marriage I’ve lost my enthusiasm for couples.”

“Are you seeing someone? Dating? Marty asked.

“I’ve been dating… some… nothing serious… sporadically…” I rushed to fill the awkward silence. “I don’t especially like the bar scene and the on-line thing is so much work.” Marty eyed me for a long moment then seemed to decide to let my comment pass.

“You’ll like them. They’re very nice”, she went on, “and they’re fun. If I get home and sit on my porch before I know it everyone is there and we’re sharing a pitcher of Margaritas. I’ll warn you though, sometimes we can get pretty bawdy.”

* * *

So I went over that Friday after work and sat on the porch with Marty; as if on cue, Marty’s two friends moseyed over. Introductions were made. We talked about the town, our jobs, the bike paths, the baseball park in the next biggest small town; I don’t remember what else. Before long we were working on our second pitcher of margaritas. Chips, salsa, celery, and carrot sticks too. No shortage of laughs either; Marty’s friends were quick with the quips and innuendos. I tried to keep up with the girls but they shared a close camaraderie. They were welcoming and entertaining, flirty even, but it was like there was an inside joke that I wasn’t privy too. I didn’t really care–the tequila had clouded my head, thickened my tongue, and loosened my lips–I was having a great time.

“So where did you find this one, Marty? He’s sooo handsome,” Silvia said with a mischievous smile, “and he looks like he could be a good specimen”. Her gaze lingered on me as she said this then shifted to Marty.

“Oh, look; he’s scrunching his eyebrows like you said something odd, Syl.” Lauren said.

“Marteee, didn’t you tell him anything about us?” Sylvia said.

“Um… pipe down, ladies, your going to scare Jerry off before we even get a chance to get to know him better.”

“Okey, dorkey then, Oh, did I say dorky? I meant to say Dokey, OKey Dokey. let me go make another pitcher. We seem to have drained this one,” Lauren said as she stood up and headed inside to the kitchen.

“That’s not the only thing we’ll be draining before this afternoon is over,” Sylvia muttered under her breath and the two of them chuckled.

“Jerry, I’m sorry. My girlfriends are teasing you. They like to play and after a few drinks they forget their manners. Are they making you uncomfortable?”

“No, I’m purrfectly alright!” I said with a little too much enthusiasm to hide the slur in my speech.

“How was work today, Marty?” Sylvia asked. I didn’t pay much attention to the exchange because it was the same old ongoing university conversation. I was wondering about Sylvia’s comment and what Marty had not told me about her friends.

“I’m back,” Lauren said as she stepped onto the porch with a fresh, pitcher of thick frozen booze. She filled our glasses and I took a big gulp. Instant brain-freeze. She sat down and said, “What have I missed? Did you tell Jerry about our proposition yet?”

I cocked my head from the frigid ache and looked from Lauren to Sylvia and finally to Marty. They all seemed poised for something.

Marty took the lead, “Jerry we want to play a game with you–an adult game. We are all single and we like our freedom but we also like to play. It’s difficult to find people with similar tastes in a little rural town like this. We are particular, so we pick and choose our…”

I was not focusing on what she was saying. Instead I was leering at her like a loon. Handsome is a funny description for a woman but Marty’s sharp features, tall and thin but very shapely body, short-cropped blond hair, and piercing blue eyes all added up to a very sexy-busyness look. Now that I was focused on how attractive she was I looked at Sylvia and Lauren differently. Sylvia had dark eyes and full lips on which she wore a hint of color. She had distinctly Latin features and color and she played the part well with a sexy accent and animated gestures which seemed to become more intense as she got excited. She had full breasts, nice hips and beautiful legs. Really, it was the tone and quality of her skin that radiated that Latin sensuality. She sat with her bare legs stretched out on the divan. She had slipped off her pumps and her feet were bare now. She had the most beautiful French pedicure that made her olive colored toes look like olives…candy…candy olives. Her soles were lighter and so soft looking as if she had just come from a pedicure. Lauren was wearing a summer dress with a bright flower print. She was the heaviest and roundest of the three women but by no means any less attractive. Zaftig, cherubic, voluptuous; all those words came to mind as I looked at her. She had big shapely legs and arms and thin sexy wrists and ankles. She had a tight waste and big breasts above and a wonderful oversized …bumper below.

“…We have had friends, um… men friends from time to time who enjoy playing…and even attending to us. It’s a delight for all of us. We girls get to have our way and our man friend gets his … Jerry? JERRY! Are you listening to me?”

Marty caught me so off guard. I must have blushed because the others laughed and Sylvia said, “Marty, I think he is having a brain freeze or something.” And then to me, “Jerry, Marty is trying to tell you that we want to play with you. Do you like that idea, Mi Amigo, would you like to play a game with us?”

I shook my head in my embarrassment at being caught staring. I didn’t really think I was in any shape for a game where I’d have to focus but I didn’t want to be a party damper.

“Yes! I love games. Backgammon, cards, Charades, Pictionary, what do you have in mind?”

They just looked at me with bemused expressions but Sylvia didn’t miss a beat.

“Pictionary! What a great idea.” Marty, can you grab a pad of paper and some pencils? ”

We made two teams and in no time we were all laughing and trying to guess each other’s scribbling. We played a made-up combination of Pictionary and Charades…Charadesinary!

“This is a movie title.” “This one is my favorite food.” “This is a book title.” It was fun but I could tell I was feeling the margaritas more than anyone else.

“Okay, now Jerry this one is for you”, Sylvia said. She drew one curved line about five inches long and then another one about an inch and a half away from and parallel to the first one. “…let’s see, do I remember what one looks like?” she asked herself and we all watched her draw a bigger shape on top of the two curved lines. It was like the pointier half of an egg. The other two snickered as she went on drawing.

“But, Sylvia, what category is it?” I asked as she drew two big round circles at the base of it.

“Let’s say it is… something I want to see, Jerry.” She said as she slid it towards me. I looked at her drawing in confusion. I thought it looked like a fat cock but I wasn’t sure and I didn’t want to say that.

“Do you need some help, Jerry?” She said as she drew some scraggly lines around the base of her sketch. They looked like blades of grass so I jumped to the conclusion that seemed safer.

“It’s a mushroom!” I yelled.

“Hmmmm,” Sylvia said, “No Jerry, look again. And besides, do you think I want to look at a mushroom?”

“She would have said it was something she wanted to eat if she was drawing a mushroom, silly,” Lauren said as she grinned me down.

Marty couldn’t resist adding in, “Well maybe she would like to eat one of those things she’s drawing.” The others laughed. They all stared at me waiting for my answer.

“Well, take a guess. What do you think I’m drawing? And what do you think about the idea that I’d like to see it right now, Jerry”, Sylvia coaxed. “I’ll give you a hint. It’s something we all would like to see.”

“It looks like a … cock.” I struggled between feeling bold and terribly embarrassed.

“That’s right, Jerry,” Marty said taking the lead again. “Sylvia is drawing a big fat cock and not just any cock; she is drawing your dick, Jerry. What do you think of that?” I grinned dumbly.

“… and she is saying she wants to see it.”

We all do, Jerry. We want to see your dick, Jerry” Lauren said boldly.

“I don’t understand” I said squirming on the front half of the seat of my rattan porch chair as I leaned over he table.

“We like to play with men this way. We are all single and we love our freedom but we all share one interest.” I swallowed at what would come next. “We love to get a man naked and play with him; tease him. It’s all in fun. It’s called CFNM. We like to see him display his assets; show off for us; and we love to have him wait on us hand and foot while he is naked. I told you about this earlier but you seemed to be too occupied staring at Sylvia’s cleavage or at Laurens sexy thighs. So I know you like looking at us. What do you think about us looking at you, Jerry?”

I gulped down another big swig of my Margarita that had been refilled again. “I know what CFNM is. I thought it was just a male fantasy. I thought it just existed in porno stories and videos. Other than lady’s night at the strip club I didn’t think people really did it.”

“Does it excite you to think about showing off for us, Jerry? Do you think it is something you might like to do?”

Marty asked gently. Lauren and Sylvia just looked at me as I sat silently thinking about giving myself over to these three women. The thought was so enticing and I was so excited that I felt a shiver of energy charge through me. I had read stories, lots of stories and the idea of CFNM was something I fantasized about for years but fantasizing is one thing and the reality of exposing myself, of giving up control to these three women I hardly knew was something I had a difficult time seeing myself do. I certainly wanted to but I had to work with Marty at the Unie. This was a small town, the kind of place where everyone seemed to know everything about everyone. I had to think about this, maybe after my head cleared. At least I could ask them some questions. That’s how my inner dialog was going but …

“Yes…” was the only word I could utter.

“Yes, What, Jerry,” Sylvia said. I stared at her. “You have to say it, Jerry. What would you like to do?”

“um, I’m Okay with this… I’d like to play this game with you.” I said but it didn’t seem to be enough or what she was looking for. They all looked at me waiting. I looked from one to the other and when my eyes met Marty’s she locked on mine and whispered the words out loud,

“Tell us what you are willing to do for us, Jerry. Describe what you want to do.” I was shivering in my nervousness. I certainly had always been comfortable with my body and being naked with women, well, one woman at the time, but this was different. It was thrilling and embarrassing to feel so out of control.

“I want to take my clothes off for you. I want to serve you and wait on you in any way you want me too,” I said as if I was hypnotized.

“Are you sure you want to? And are you willing to do whatever we ask you to do, Jerry?” Marty asked. “Everything we ask even if it makes you feel uncomfortable? You should know too that once we begin you must follow our orders. If you don’t behave you will get punished.” I nodded yes but the word punished stuck in my intense but clouded thoughts.

“And if it works out you will continue to be our plaything when we are together at any of our houses. Outside of this we are friends, neighbors, and colleagues. We will never speak about it outside of our homes. It’ll be our little secret. Are you sure you are okay with this, Jerry?”

By now I would have agreed to anything. I was foggy but focused; so focused on this thing I had fantasized about before but never thought I’d have the opportunity to do.

“Yes, I am sure I want to do this with you.” I spoke in a level voice. “I will do whatever you ask me to do and I understand that you will punish me if I don’t behave.”There was a sigh of relief as the tension seemed to dispel from the air.

“Good then”, Marty said. “It’s getting dark, what say we go inside, ladies …”

” And besides it’s way to chilly for Jerry to show us his willy out here on the front porch.” Lauren interjected. They all laughed and I cringed at the thought of what I was getting into.

We went inside, through the big living room, past her dining room and into her modern kitchen. The women perched on high chairs at the island table. This put them slightly higher than my eye level and added to my vulnerable feeling as I stood in front of them. Marty spoke a little more firmly than before. Maybe it was that sexy busyness thing but it was incredibly exciting.

“Ok Jerry, take your clothes off for us so we can get started. We want to see you first and then we’ll decide what’s next. Understood?” They all had a different look now, more commanding more in controlled anticipation. I was having serious second thoughts. It all seemed so naughty and exciting outside in the dusk and haze of the alcohol. Now it seemed so much more clinical here in the kitchen under the bright lights.

“I don’t know about this, Marty. Maybe I don’t have the nerve for CFM.”

“CFM is cubic feet per minute, Jerry.” Marty said. The others smirked. “Its C, clothed; F, female; NM, naked male. If you don’t want to its okay, sweetie but…” Marty got off her perch as she spoke and came over to me. She put her arm around my shoulders and whispered so we all could hear, “Maybe you would be more comfortable if I helped you get started. Hmmm, would you like that?” she cooed as she played with the hem on my pullover shirt. I looked at her without protest and she began to lift my shirt up over my head. When she had it completely over my head she grasped it tightly wrapping my arms and my head in the darkness of the fabric. Of course I had the strength to break away but I didn’t have the will power. “Relax, Jerry, let us help you.” She said and then to Lauren and Sylvia, “Girls would you assist me please in undressing our speci-man?” She stepped behind me and wrapped her arms around my raised arms in a firm but gentle hug. I wanted to do what thy wanted and now, blindfolded, I felt oddly secure in her arms. I felt more protected from their eyes….like an ostrich with his silly head buried in the sand and his way too big body completely exposed like I would soon be. I felt someone lifting my ankle to remove my shoe. There were hands at my belt, opening my pants. My other shoe came off and then my pants were slid down around my ankles.

“Take those undies down, Lauren.” I heard Sylvia say and as I felt my boxers yanked down around my ankles, “I want to see that mushroom.” They all laughed but that didn’t stop them from urging me out of the rest of my clothes. Marty was right, not being able to see made it easier but now my shirt was lifted the rest of the way over my head and I was back in the bright kitchen light, naked and surely looking like a deer or maybe big bird in the headlights of the three friend’s amused gaze.

“Well there it is, Syl, is Jerry’s sausage what you were hoping for?” Lauren asked. Sylvia stared at my cock, which by now was starting to stiffen.

” It’s got promise but I’ll reserve judgment until we get it good and hard and sticking out like a pole.”

“So then, Jerr, come over here and let us see what we can do about your flaccid dork.” Marty said as she beckoned me closer to the Island table. I stepped closer and she grasped my cock like she was shaking hands with someone at the office.

“um…It’s not really flaccid.” I said. “It’s just not all the way hard yet. I’m nervous, Marty.”

“There’s nothing to be nervous about, Jerry. You’re in good hands.” With that she started to stroke my dick. Sylvia stepped up behind me and caressed my ass. Lauren went off to get something.

“Spread your legs and lean over the island. I want to get a good grip on your meat pole. I really want to see how long it can get before we measure you.” Syl said. I felt her nudge my ankles apart like she was going to do a cavity search. I leaned against the island and felt so exposed. That’s when I heard the unmistakable fake shutter click of an IPhone.

“Marty, what the hell?” I said but that didn’t stop Sylvia from sliding her hand between my thighs from behind to grab my cock. She stroked me like this and the feel of the inside of her wrist and forearm between my legs and against my balls was so incredible it squelched my protest.

I looked over my shoulder and saw Lauren taking pics with her phone. I also saw that she had brought some other things back with her.

“Bend over nice and low now Jerry.” Lauren said. “I’ve got something I think we’re going to like.” They snickered as she came up behind me. Sylvia slid her other hand between my cheeks. She nudged me open and slid a slippery finger slide inside my asshole. “How’s that, Jerry? Does it feel nice to have my finger inside you ass while I stroke your sausage meet?”

I groaned, “yessss.”

“Yessss what Jerry?” Sylvia asked.

I inhaled sharply as I felt her probe deeper. “It feels so good when you hold my cock and stick your finger inside my…”

“What am I doing to your ass, Jerry?” She taunted me to say what she wanted to hear. “Miss Sylvia.” She added. I paused a second too long so she plunged in harder hooking me and lifting so I rose up on my toes as if by her own strength.

“It feels so good when you stroke my cock and fuck my ass with your finger, Miss Sylvia”

“That’s a boy,” Sylvia said. “Now let’s put something in here to keep you nice and open for us.” She pulled her finger out. “Okay now spread them open like you do for the doctor, Jerr.” I did as I was told because … well, just because this was the most humiliating and exciting thing I could imagine. I felt the smooth round implement against my asshole.

“Take a breath and relax, Deary.” Lauren said and before my breath was completely exhaled I felt the missile stretch my sphincter and pop through. It hurt at first but once it was in the pain subsided and it felt strangely good. I felt something tickling the backs of my thighs. I moved my ass and felt it again. The women laughed at this.

“That’s a fine tail you’re sporting, Jerry. It sort of balances that horse cock of yours.”

First of all, I do not have a horse cock. It isn’t small but it’s hardly large enough to call a horse cock. I felt behind me and in fact I did have a tail protruding from the end of the butt plug they had put in my ass. It must have looked funny between my cheeks. I even laughed when I saw my reflection in the sliding patio doors. Someone wrapped an apron around me and tied the bow in the back so my ass and new tail were completely exposed.

September 2018
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