Posts Tagged ‘betrayal’

The Four Realms of Handor



Ser Landry’s Tale



Chapter One: The Watch



Ser Landry drew the night watch for what seemed like the hundredth week in a row. It was actually only the third but the intolerable conditions made it seem like much more. During the winter months the night watch was most hated by all guards of the Southern Keep. Cold driving winds insistently blew and biting snow and ice drove into your body like frozen nails. Layers of wool, boiled leather, and chain mail only kept you from freezing to death, but you yet still froze.



“Aye,” Ser Wallace mumbled when Ser Landry walked up to relieve him from his watch, a banner of steam flowing from his mouth as he talked. “I’ve kept her warm for you,” he continued. Alluding to the spot next to the short stubby stone tower that the two men were assigned to.



“Any action tonight?” Ser Landry questioned.



“No. There hasn’t been any action here in half a century. I know I’ve never seen any.”



Ser Landry was still young. At nineteen years of age his time in the Royal Guard was still in its infancy. Others such as Wallace, who was well into his fifties, had been guarding the same keep for quite some time, just as those had done before them going back over 200 years. The Southern Keep, the most remote in all four realms of the Handor kingdom, was once an important trade route between the native tribes, known as the Nethers, that lived in the south and those that had colonised the north. It was on a narrow strip of land, no more than ten miles wide, that geographically separated the two regions.



Over the years, the Nethers stopped coming north and a savage group of humanoids began to take their place. Instead of trade, they preferred to steal the wares they wanted and to kill those that had it. It was not long before the lord of Glacierthorn, the southernmost realm in the kingdom, raised an army to push back the savages and setup various keeps along their borders to keep them at bay.



Ser Landry stood their in the cold, his longsword leaning up against the rock wall instead of sheathed on his side as it should have been. His thoughts drifted, as they often would, to warmer things. A bed of coals in a fireplace, a piping hot bowl of soup, a steaming bath, a woman. He had only ever been with one woman and only on one occasion, Lilia on the night before he left for the keep. He promised to return one day from the duties he was sworn to and marry her, make a proper woman of her.



Lilia was his aunts daughter, his second cousin. If it were ever to be, it would be a noble marriage, keeping the bloodlines of the Landry’s pure, which was the hope of any highborn family. He remembered how she smelled, her skin soft with the delicate scent of lavender. He loved that about her. She didn’t pour on the scented oil or perfumes like many of the other girls did in court. Her golden curls always seemed to bounce, light and soft on her shoulders. Although modest, she did make sure to reveal the slightest amount of cleavage for all those wishing to take a peek. Her reservedness was her allure.



Ser Landry undressed her petite body more times in his mind’s eye than he could count. On many occasions, every time he got the chance, he even went so far as to spy on her when her chambermaids bathed her. He had once found a small crack from a storage room that looked into her bedchamber. Every time her airy silken gown would fall from her body and onto the floor, revealing her shoulders, back, buttocks, and legs, he would instantly get hard if he was not already. Then she would walk around to the side of the tub, the nipples on her perky breasts hard from the castle’s cold night drafts. When she bent over to feel the hot water of her bath, held onto the edge of the tub, and lifted her leg over and into the steaming water, he would always get the perfect view between her legs. Her pussy, he thought, must be the sweetest in all the land.



While watching her bathe and her maids cleanse every possible area of her body, he would hold onto his hard cock and stroke it slowly. When Lilia’s bathers moved the sponge between her legs, she would push their hands down and make them stay there, sometimes for only a moment but sometimes for many minutes until she would lean her head back, hold onto the sides of the tub, and moan in ecstasy. Landry would always wait until she stood from the bath, wet and sudsy, before he would cum into the floor drain of the room he was hidden in.



Ser Landry grabbed onto the cold rail next to him. His other hand was buried deep in his wool pants, pumping up and down on his fully erect shaft. The thoughts of Lilia quickened his release. Then, as he did almost every night that he had watch, he filled his cotton shorts with shot after shot of warm sticky cum. He would sometimes masturbate three or four times in an evening as a way to pass the time, always imagining Lilia and her supple breasts, dripping wet pussy as it rose from the bath, and the round cheeks of her ass. Many hours in the dark made a man’s mind turn to anything other than that of the cold and the night.



It was then, as he was wiping his sticky hand on his icy pants that he thought he saw movement in the distance. Struggling to make out what it was, it disappeared before he could decide whether or not it was his imagination or something real. “My imagination.”, he thought to himself.



Chapter Two: Whores



A day off from the watch was just what Ser Landry was looking forward to. He told himself that if he drew one more week of night watch he would risk beheading and desert his post. Waking up that morning was a godsend, the bright light from the sun lit up and warmed the small room he shared with two other guards. He laid there, contemplating what he was going to do that day. Normally he would spend the day walking the river, fishing, writing poetry, reading from one of the many old tomes in the keeps rather old and uncharacteristically ample library.



The other men, especially the younger, would generally head north to the small village of Veldorf and spend their weeks wages on ale and whores. Landry had been there once when he first joined the watch, pressured into going by his peers. After downing several pints, he let one of the working girls rub his erection through his pants. Barely turning down a blow job as the girl’s red lips and hungry mouth danced around the head of his cock, he felt guilty about his near infidelity to Lilia.



“Landry!” it was Lord Kindle, arguably the most boisterous and free spirited of the bunch. “Veldorf. This afternoon. You need to get that dick of yours sucked on!” Kindle walked of laughing and slapping the other two men he was with on the back.



The sun was high in the sky and the other men with the day off were mounted on horseback headed towards Veldorf. Landry had a book in his hand: Prose of Affection, A Poet’s Memoir, and was walking quickly towards the snowy woods where the river ran in an attempt to escape being harassed about going with them.



“Landry!” it was Lord Kindle again. “Come with us, brother.”



“I think I’ll just stay behind for today” Ser Landry responded as he picked up the speed in which he was walking.



“Come get some pussy you pussy!” Kindle laughed annoyingly. “Come on, we miss you.”



The only person Landry might call a friend that called the keep home guided his horse in his direction. Taylor, the only name he went by, was always kind to Landry. No one knew his title or if he even had one but the air about him was certainly that of nobility. One of the things appealing about the Royal Guard is that one need not be highborn to join. If you wanted to reach any kind of status it certainly helped, but was not required.



“I’ll watch your back,” Taylor said to Landry who had finally stopped walking away. “You need to get out with the guys and have some fun. I know you have that girl back home you are wanting to remain faithful to and I respect that. You don’t have to fuck anything or even touch anything, but come drink some ale my friend. It will be a good time.”



Ser Landry pondered his options for a moment.



“Come on,” Taylor prodded. “It will be fun.”



“Ok, if I drink too much and some wenches mouth gets to close to my cock this time, I’m holding you accountable.”



“That’s a deal,” Tyler rode away laughing to himself. “He’s going to come,” he yelled to the others.



There were two inns in Veldorf. The Silver Rose, where anyone with an ounce of dignity would stay, and Lost Virtue, where anyone looking to drink too much and find a piece of ass would stay. For being so remote, Lost Virtue seemed to know how to find working girls that were steps above even those found in the ritziest of brothels in the major cities. Heavy timbers and stone made up the walls of the inn. Pushing the heavy oak door open, a wave of flute music and the roar of people having an abundance of good time flooded out into the streets. The heavy steel barrel stove in the middle of the room glowed red and the heat was a welcome retreat to that of the bitter cold air outside.



“Ales all around,” Kindle announced to the bartender as the group of eight poured through the door and found one of the only open tables left in the place.



Girls from across the realm, hand picked by madam Sellwood, strode about from table to table in light cotton dresses. Their practiced seductions were capable of making even the purest of men part with their hard earned coin. Drunk men were almost no contest. A blow job could be had without leaving your seat. It was an easy and relatively cheap way of blowing your wad in a beautiful girls mouth without having to get up from the conversation. Head Girls they were called, ladies that specialized in getting a man to release in the shortest amount of time possible, take their money, and move onto the next.



A pretty little red headed Head Girl walked by the table and one of the guys, Ser Walker, slapped her on the ass to get her attention. She quickly spun around and gave him a smile. Walker placed a copper coin on the table and slid it in her direction.



“Two more of those if you tease it a bit and make it last,” Walker said with a wink.



The red head got down on her knees and crawled under the table. The look on Walker’s face made it apparent he was getting his money’s worth. Walker sat across the table from Landry. As the girl got on all fours and worked her lips up and down the sizable cock that filled her mouth, her cotton covered ass rubbed against Landry’s right leg. He felt himself getting hard and he soon realized that she was positioning herself so that her pussy was rubbing on his leg as well. She pressed harder and harder against him. He noticed Walker’s facial expression changing and that he would soon cum.



“Yeah!” Walker yelled out. “Swallow it you red headed cunt, swallow it!” he bellowed rhetorically, knowing full well that these girls always swallowed everything they were given.



The Head Girl worked delicately to clean up Walker’s dick. He would twitch and fidget from time to time as she licked and sucked every drop of cum from the swollen head of his cock. As she did, she continued to rub her pussy through her dress on Landry’s leg. Her rhythm quickened and the pressure she was pushing with increased. She was getting close and she reached around and grabbed the back of his lower leg and pulled it harder into her crotch. Her thighs closed on his leg and she slowed. Her movement was gone and her head poked up from beneath the table, staring right up at Landry.



“Thank you honey,” she said, her green eyes contrasting brilliantly with her fire red hair. “You want a free one on me?”



Landry cleared his throat nervously, “No mam, I’m ok.”



“Just let me know. My offer is good for the night.”



As the night wore on the group of men moved on from ale and started drinking the establishments distilled spirits. Landry was lost in the moment, drinking every bit as much as the others. Lord Kindle was the first to mention getting a girl for all of them to share. Everyone was warming up to the idea, everyone except for Landry that is.



“I’ll stay here and just keep drinking,” Landry’s words were slurred. “I’m good.”



“Come and just watch,” Taylor suggested. “No harm in that is there?”



“No harm in that, sure.”



Kindle walked off to find a girl and came back shortly with an exotic olive skinned brunette, the likes never seen in the south. Her hair was black as night, her eyes a deep brown, and her skin the color of finely cured leather. Landry admired her looks, he had never seen nothing like her. Her ass was more round and full than any he had ever seen. As they all looked her up and down, several men felt her tits and ran their hands along her body, she carefully pushed each strap of her dress from her shoulder. Landry thought to himself that her dark breasts, the darker coin sized areas around her nipples, and the hard little nipples themselves must be the most perfect a girl could have. He felt himself getting hard.



“Look at this,” Kindle commanded and pulled up the front of her dress revealing a pussy like no man at that table had ever seen.



Shaved smooth, you could see every part of it in beautiful exquisite detail. Kindle parted her lips, revealing the subtle pink and moist interior of her vagina. Her clit glistened. The men all stood from their seat.



“Oh yes, she will do,” Walker exclaimed as he picked her up into her arms. “Lets get a room.”



Chapter Three: Betrayal



After several minutes Ser Landry reluctantly got up from his seat to join the other men. “I’m only going to watch,” he told himself. When he got to the door he could hear the sounds. A girls muffled moans, skin slapping against skin, the laughter and cheers from the men. He opened the door and walked in.



The girl was bent over the bed in the room. Her round ass stuck up into the air and her legs spread open wide to make room for Walker’s thick shaft. Kindle kneeled in front of her with his cock in her mouth, she skillfully allowed its full length to slide in and out of her throat. Walker slapped her butt cheek leaving a perfect red hand print. A perfect red hand print among many others he had apparently left. Walker, Landry noticed, was not fucking the girl in her pussy. “What in God’s name?” he asked himself. Walker would pull out and push in and her dark ass hole formed tightly around his girth. With each thrust she let out a little whimper, muffled because of the dick she was sucking on. Landry had never heard of putting anything into a girls ass and he watched, mesmerised with curiosity and with the way her hole moved in and out. The other five men stood around the room watching, stroking their cocks as they did.



Walker’s thrusts quickened. The girl reached back and tried to push him back a little, his stiff rod pounding away at her ass hole was apparently a bit uncomfortable. He slapped her hand and continued to pound until he stopped with his cock fully buried inside of her. His whole body convulsed with each stream of his seed that he shot inside her. He pulled out of her slowly, the tip of his dick dripped and the girls ass gaped open leaking quantities of warm cum. She allowed her hips to relax and focused on the blow job she was giving Kindle. Landry started to subconsciously rub his own swollen member that was now fully erect in his pants.



“Gods have mercy, Walker,” Taylor exclaimed as he walked up behind the girl, rubbing his hands on her ass cheeks and squeezing big handfuls of fleshy butt. “You ruined her for the rest of us. You could barely get a finger in there when you started,” he ran his finger around the inside of her slowly contracting ass. “Move to the front of the bed Kindle.”



Taylor moved the girl up onto the bed aggressively and Kindle grabbed her hair and pulled her back up to his cock. Taylor moved under her and pushed the tip of his dick into her saturated pussy. She was a tiny girl and Taylor’s thickness easily filled her up, stretching her pussy open wide. Her pussy lips clung to his dick shaft, moving in and out as she lifted and lowered her hips, slowly at first and then faster. Her ass cheeks gyrated with each movement until one of the other men stepped up behind her and penetrated her already heavily used butt hole.



Landry watched as each of the men took turns with one of the girls three holes. One would cum, pull out, and then another would start fucking her. After a couple of hours in the room, everyone was pretty much satisfied. The girl rolled over onto her back. Her pussy and ass hole were filled with cum that leaked out onto the linens. She was covered in sweat and the light from the oil lanterns glittered off of her firm titties.



Landry sat there and stared at her. He wondered if she even enjoyed it. He took another sip of his drink. His massive hard on throbbed and his balls ached. He had been hard the entire time.



“You coming, Landry?” Taylor asked before walking out of the room.



“Ya, I’ll be there in a second.”



The others left and Landry sat there in the chair still staring at the used whore on the bed. She said something in a language he didn’t understand. He stood up and locked the door. Carefully, he took off his shoes, his shirt, and his pants. Landry was massive. His ten inch cock stood fully erect. It’s girth was bigger than the girls wrists and when she saw it she gasped.



“No,” she said in a heavy accent followed by something more that he could not understand. “No.”



“Yes,” Landry said.



He walked up to her, grabbed her by the ankles, and pulled her so that her pussy was at the edge of the bed. Drops of the other men’s cum fell to the floor. Landry grabbed his huge cock and nudged the tip of it into her drenched hole. She pushed back a bit but Landry pulled her back to him, thrusting harder until every inch of his manhood was pushing in and out of her beautifully dark cunt. He could feel the other men’s seed inside of her hot and gushing pussy. She started to pull away again. He could tell that his size was uncomfortable for her. It was for Lilia as well and he had to be gentle not to hurt her. But this was some nameless whore and he didn’t have to care.



Landry pulled out and flipped her over. She grasped at the bedding as he tried to stick his dick into her still dripping ass. He grabbed her by the back of the neck and held her down, pushing her into the bed. The thick tip of his cock spread her ass open wide. She resisted and he laid down onto her with all his weight, his dick drilled down into her hole, burying it up to his balls. He thrust deep inside her. She could hear her start to cry from the pain. He pounded harder until he was close. He turned her back over and fucked her pussy hard until he could not take it anymore. He pulled out and crawled up on top of her letting his load shoot across her titties, across her face, and into her mouth. For the final shot of his load he stuck the tip of his dick between her lips and let it shoot down her throat. He had never came so much. All that seed building up inside while the others fucked her now drenched her satin skin.



“Clean it,” Landry commanded. Even though she didn’t understand the words, she did understand his intent. Her red lips gingerly sucked up the remaining drops of cum.



He collapsed down onto her body. She continued to sob as he breathed heavily on top of her, his hard cock going limp between her thighs.



Chapter Four: Coming Clean



Lilia got the letter in the morning:



Dearest Lilia,



I write to you because I have betrayed our trust. My love for you knows no bounds but in a moment of drunkenness I became week and lusted for another. Because I want to hide nothing from you I am telling you this now. It was a whore. I entered her vagina, her mouth, and her ass. I released on her and not inside her. It was in not way an act of making love, I merely fucked her. I am sorry. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.

This is the final chapter in the saga of Carole and Jesse, Dee-Dee and Charlie. It contains descriptions of mother/son incest, bondage and lesbian sex; if these things are not to your taste, please read no further. But it does have a happy ending!



Grateful thanks to Hatsuda for his editing expertise and positive feedback throughout all six chapters of this story.




*** ***



“Dee-Dee wants a baby and I’m to be the father; and more importantly, she wants to conceive by the natural method? How do I feel about it? Oh my god, I’m completely bowled over. This is just a bit much to absorb in a short time. I think you and I need to talk to Dee-Dee about this, and possibly involve Charlie as well. Anyway, how do you feel about the idea?”



“I guess it is a bit of a surprise, but I’m okay with it, honey. You get to be a father, I get to be a grandmother,” “and an auntie at the same time,” I added. “Yes, a bit complicated, that,” mum continued, “I love Dee-Dee very much, and if we can help her achieve her dream, I’m all for it.” With that, we went in search of Dee-Dee.



Dee-Dee laughed gently when I broached the subject with her. “Jesse, honey, I very much want to start a family, but, of course, Charlie and I can’t do it without some help. I think you would be an ideal dad for our child, but I would really prefer to avoid some gynaecologist messing around with my plumbing, even if it is a female. So if you feel up to it, maybe we can arrange a discreet contact without too many erotic overtones.”



“I see, Dee-Dee,” I teased her, “so you just want to use my body for your selfish purposes?”



“Mmm, okay, if you want to put it like that, I can’t disagree, but you would be doing Charlie and me a really big favour. Plus, you get to be a daddy and Carole gets to be both an auntie and a grandmother at the same time.”



Charlie had now come into the room. She looked quite serious, and I asked her how she felt about this project. “Okay, I guess, although I’d really rather it was done by donor insemination, even if you are the donor. Dee-Dee has explained all her reasons, and I’ve told her about my hesitations, although …” and here she looked at Carole and a smile crossed her face. “Tell you what,” she continued, “I’ll make absolutely no objections if Carole is prepared to sleep with me—just once.”



Mum looked stunned. “Charlie, I don’t know—in spite of my little adventure with Dee-Dee, I don’t think I’m really bisexual. Still, maybe … if it will help Dee-Dee, I might be prepared to give it a try.”



“Is that a ‘yes’ then, Carole?” Charlie demanded.



“I guess so, okay.” Mum turned to me with an enquiry in her eyes, and I nodded.



“Mum, this is your decision, and I’ll support whatever way you want to go. I trust Charlie, and I don’t think she’ll steal you away from me, so if it feels good, go for it.”



“Well, it won’t be for a few days yet, for reasons to do with my cycle,” Dee-Dee sounded rather clinical, “I’ll tell you when I’m ripe and ready, Jesse, then you can perform.”



I sighed. “You make me sound like a circus animal, performing on cue.” Dee-Dee just giggled.



“Just so long as you do,” Dee-Dee continued to tease me and I laughed, as did Carole and Charlie.



Our first encounter came about a week later, but Carole and Charlie were forced to delay theirs for similar cyclical reasons. Dee-Dee caught me in the lounge late one afternoon with a wide grin on her face. “Your place or mine, big boy?” she whispered.



“Better be yours, I think, gorgeous, if you can square it with Charlie.”



“Okay, lover, 8.30 sharp—and don’t be late,” Dee-Dee was determined to be in charge, although I suspected that it had to do with her own nervousness.



I showered and dressed in a bathrobe, feeling as nervous as a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs as I tapped on her door at 8.30.



“Come in, Jesse,” Dee-Dee said, and I saw that she was lying on the bed, covered in a sheet. “So how do you want me?”



“Hmm, don’t tempt me, Dee-Dee — you do know, don’t you, that a woman has a better chance of conceiving if she achieves orgasm as the man cums?”



“I’d heard something like that, but what are you proposing,” she commented suspiciously.



“What I am proposing, my dear aunt, is that you use this combined vibrator/clit stimulator for a while to get you warmed up.”



“Ooh yes, although I suppose you will want to sit and watch me get all hot and bothered, you nasty voyeur.”



“Why, of course, aunty,” I chuckled, “that’s one of the side benefits.”



Dee-Dee sighed dramatically, then put the vibrator into her mouth for lubrication and pushed the sheet back enough to insert it into her pussy.



She turned it on and almost immediately started to gasp and whimper as the sensations built rapidly and with force.



“Aargh, oh god, oh yes, mmm, it feels so good, yes. Now, Jesse, now, please, I’m almost there.”



“Okay, Dee-Dee, on your hands and knees. Doggy style I think for maximum penetration — plus it has the added benefit that you won’t need to look at me enjoying myself.”



Dee-Dee laughed and rapidly changed onto all fours and as I took up my position she removed the dildo. I knew that Dee-Dee would resent and resist any overt attempt on my behalf to get her excited, but as I slid my cock into her well-lubricated cunt, I reached round and stroked her clit. She reacted as I had expected, but I murmured, “Strictly to keep you on the boil, Dee-Dee,” and she relaxed.



At this point, nature and our bodies took over. I started with long deep strokes to allow her vagina to adapt to this uncommon intrusion and her cunt muscles massaged my cock as it plunged in and out. Her breathing became shallower, faster and more ragged, with gasps and moans as her orgasm came closer. I switched to hard fast thrusts, going progressively deeper until we were fucking like animals in heat. Which, on reflection, was exactly the point of this exercise.



Dee-Dee moaned and sobbed as her climax rapidly approached, and I was able, with some effort, to time mine to coincide with hers. I felt all the signs of approaching orgasm as my balls drew up and the electric shocks started in my lower abdomen and the base of my cock. As Dee-Dee screamed her release, I came hard, depositing a goodly load of baby batter right at her cervix, shouting in triumph as I did so.



As I shrank and slipped from her saturated pussy, Dee-Dee dropped to the bed and turned to me. “Thank you, Jesse, that wasn’t as traumatic as I’d feared.”



I wrapped my arms round her and gave her a big hug. “Dee-Dee, if you were attracted to men, you’d have to beat me off with a stick. You’re a lovely woman, and I know you will be a fine mother—to our child.” We both laughed and I gathered up my robe and left.



Three days later, we repeated the encounter (“Just to be sure”, Dee-Dee claimed) and Carole and Charlie had their own little adventure in my and mum’s room. They started early, but after Dee-Dee and I had finished Charlie was nowhere to be found and mum was sound asleep. There was a strong smell of alcohol that I thought was a little unusual, but I was exhausted, and fell into bed and was soon in a heavy dreamless sleep.



I was up early the following morning; I had an early tutorial at 8.30 at the university and left the house by 7.45 with everyone else still asleep. After the two hour tutorial, I was both hungry and in need of coffee, so I headed for my favourite coffee shop in the local mall and sat reading the paper.



I was suddenly interrupted by a shout of “Jesse, Jesse, over here”, and turned to see my cousin Rebecca in all her finery. “Jesse, what are you doing here?” she shouted and threw her arms around me in a huge hug. “Jesse, congratulate me. Mike has asked me to marry him, and I naturally said ‘yes’”. She reinforced her ebullient happiness with several sloppy but poorly placed kisses around my mouth. “You guys must come to the wedding; we’ll make sure you get invites,” with which she kissed me once again and bounced off.



I relaxed and smiled to myself — a little Rebecca goes a long way. Looking at my watch, I saw that it was already 12.30, time to think about getting home.



As I walked through the front door, my immediate impression was that I had died and gone to hell. Immediately in front of me stood my mother, looking like I’d never seen her before. Her face was a dusky, blotchy colour, suffused with rage.



“You rotten cheating bastard. How could you betray me like that?”



I was totally amazed. “Mum, what the fuck are you talking about?”



“Don’t swear in front of your mother, young man,” she shrieked, and barely pausing to draw breath, “I saw you in the arms of that painted hussy plastering her slutty mouth all over you!”



“Mum, you don’t understand, that …”



That was to no avail, and seemed to make a bad situation worse.



“Oh, so now I don’t understand what my eyes clearly showed me?” she shouted, dripping with sarcasm.



“Mum, please listen to me. I …”



It was no good. “I’m not going to listen to your pathetic excuses. I trusted you with my life as well as my body and you’ve betrayed me,” and taking two steps forward, she wiped her finger hard across my mouth. “See, there’s the evidence, and you can’t deny it,’ she shouted, showing me the remnants of Rebecca’s enthusiastic embrace. With that, she slapped me hard first across my right cheek, then my left.



“My god, Mum, …”



“Don’t blaspheme either. Now get out of my sight. Better still, get out of my house. I never want to see you again.” I looked hard at her but all I could see was a raging storm of emotions flooding across her face. “Fuck off,” she screamed. I ignored the irony and left the room.



“Oh god, something’s gone badly wrong, and I don’t think it is just lipstick on my face,” I thought to myself as I quickly packed a bag. “All her logic circuits have burned out and now she’s running on unrestrained emotion. Emotions that have somehow been badly contaminated.”



There was a light knock on my door and Charlie came in looking distraught. “Jesse, what on earth’s got into your mother? She abused me this morning and will barely talk to Dee-Dee. She seems to think you’re having an affair with some red-headed tart.”



“No, Charlie, it’s not that at all. I had just finished breakfast and was about to head home when I was ambushed by Rebecca. All that happened was a purely coincidental meeting in the coffee shop. Rebecca was her usual excitable self, telling me about her engagement and punctuating the announcement with a few kisses that meant nothing at all.”



“Oh god, Jesse, I can quite imagine that. Rebecca phoned me yesterday and I could barely get a word in edgeways, she was so excited. Wouldn’t Carole listen to your explanation?”



“No, Charlie, she didn’t want to listen to anything I had to say, and caught me two generous slaps round the face. I am now persona non grata and am required to leave the house. In fact, I think that may be a good thing, because it will remove her main source of irritation.”



Charlie looked troubled. “Jesse, I’m really sorry, but I think I may be part of the problem. Our little tryst didn’t go well last night, and Carole seemed a bit disturbed, but I didn’t think it was this significant.”



“Hmm, Charlie,” I pondered. “I think there may be some other underlying issues at play too. Look, will you and Dee-Dee do me a big favour and keep an eye on Mum for me, and if you’re able to get the truth through to her, that’ll be a big bonus. One thing I don’t understand, though, is how she came to be at the mall in the first place.”



Charlie smiled, a wintry smile that barely touched the corners of her mouth. “Well, Jesse, apparently you had turned your mobile off, and she wanted to speak to you urgently about something, although I’ve no idea what. So she decided to go to the mall, reasoning that you’d go there after your tut.”



“Oh god, what a mess,” I sighed. “Charlie, I’ll keep the mobile turned on from now on, and if you have any news, any news at all, please let me know.”



Charlie hugged me and whispered, “take care,” before I hurried to the front door and disappeared in my car. I drove to the university and spent the afternoon pretending to study, although nothing took root. Then I spent the evening watching an entirely forgettable movie, after which I had a pseudo-meal in a fast food joint, then found a room in a cheap motel.



I hardly got a wink of sleep, tossing and turning in a strange bed and worrying about mum. Next morning I went for a walk to clear my head, and then back to my “bolt hole” at the coffee shop. Gary, the owner of the shop looked closely at me and asked, “What’s up, mate, woman problems?”



“Mmm,” I replied, non-commitally.



“Don’t worry, mate. Never run after a woman or a bus—there’s always another one coming along.” He laughed and disappeared.



“Maybe, you cynical old bastard, but not like this one,” I thought to myself.



I sat drinking coffee, half reading the paper and making myself feel miserable, when my mobile rang. It was Charlie. “Jesse, thank god I’ve caught you. I really need to talk to you—where are you?”



“At the coffee shop,” I replied.



“Hmm, too public, really—Jesse, do you know that piece of so-called parkland with the creek running through it, about a kilometre west of the house?”



“Yeah, Charlie, how about I meet you there in about half an hour?”



“Good, see you then,” and she rang off.



Charlie was waiting for me when I arrived, looking very worried. “Jesse, would you be prepared to come home, even if just for a couple of hours. Carole’s in a dreadful state; Dee Dee and I almost literally pinned her down late last night, and force-fed her the truth. Rebecca has a comprehensive Facebook page and we showed her all the details. At first she didn’t want to believe what she saw, but eventually the truth broke through her barriers, and she just seemed to collapse on herself. She burst into tears and started calling your name, then dashed to your bedroom. I don’t think she got any sleep—nor did Dee-Dee or I—as we heard her prowling around the house, crying and sobbing out to you. I know she threw you out and you have every right to feel mad with her, but she really needs you, and …”



I jumped in. “Charlie, no matter what mum did, I still love her like crazy and I want to help her exorcise whatever demons have possessed her. Of course I’ll come home.”



“Thank you, Jesse; I hope you don’t regret it.”



“Charlie, I’d regret it a whole lot more if I didn’t. Just one thing, would you help me with a little play-acting. I’ll follow you home and when you see where mum is, go to the door of that room. Let her see you, then ask her, ‘Carole, what do you want most in the world right now?’ She will almost certainly say, ‘Jesse’, then ask her, ‘If Jesse was here right now, what would you say to him?’ then slip aside and let me in. Okay?”



Charlie agreed and we set out for home. I followed Charlie in and she stood at the lounge room door. “Hi Carole,” she said, getting no response. “Carole, what do you want most in the world right now?”



“Oh god, I so want Jesse back with me. That’s all I really want, but I’m sure he won’t come back to me,” and she burst into tears again.



“Okay, Carole, what would you say to Jesse if he was here with you right now?”



“Like that’s going to happen after what I said and did to him. If by some miracle it did, I’d tell him how sorry I am for my dreadful behaviour, I’d tell him how much I love him and I’d do anything, literally anything to prove it.”



Charlie slipped away and I moved quietly into the room. Getting no response, Carole looked up and saw me watching her. She screamed then shouted my name over and over, stumbled across the floor and threw herself into my arms with tears pouring down her ravaged face.



“Oh Jesse, oh god, Jesse, Jesse, I am SO sorry for what I did to you and what I said to you. I know I don’t deserve it but could you possibly find a place in you where you could start to forgive me?”



I held her trembling body close to me, stroked her hair and down her arm as she wept and continued to beg for forgiveness.



“Darling Carole, darling Mum, I love you so much. I think you’ve been through some really tough times recently, and I want to help you find your way out of them. As for forgiveness, well …”, and, turning her head, my lips found hers in a long, slow kiss. At first she tried to devour me, her mouth open, her tongue searching. She realised quickly that this wasn’t a preliminary to a steamy sexual escapade but a demonstration of mutual love, understanding and acceptance.



Carole eventually broke from me and looked deep into my eyes as if searching for something. “Jesse, my love, how can you let me off that easily? It’s so difficult to explain what got into me, and I am so ashamed, but it doesn’t seem to worry you?”



“Sweet Carole, what happened, happened and I can live with that, though I would like to know what drove you to this explosion.”



Carole was silent for a moment, then said slowly, “Well, the problems with the business have been getting me down, and that’s been complicated by my worries over what you will do with your grandmother’s bequest. I know you’ve told me it will make no difference, but I hadn’t been able to shake the uncertainty about your future directions. Then my evening with Charlie was a complete disaster. I got panicky when she started to kiss and caress me, then she licked me from my feet and all up my legs, and I suddenly panicked and ran from the room. I felt so foolish that I drank more brandy than was good for me and fell into a dead sleep. Next morning I woke feeling dreadful and needed to talk to you, but you’d already gone and I couldn’t raise you on your mobile, which just added to my frustrations. I figured you’d stop off at the coffee shop, so I drove over to the mall. Then when I saw the woman I now know to be Rebecca kissing you everything got too much for me and I lost it. I can’t even remember driving back home, but by the time I got here, my anger had transformed itself into a towering and wholly irrational rage. Then you arrived home …”



“Thank you, Carole darling; I think I understand. Now, look deeply into my eyes and tell me, without thinking about it, do you love me?”



“Oh god, Jesse, yes, yes I do, without hesitation, and really, I’ve never ever stopped loving you. Don’t ever leave me.”



“Well gorgeous, I feel exactly the same way. Next time you’ll have to throw me out bodily.”



Carole leaned backwards and looked at me, managing her first smile and punched me gently on the arm. “There isn’t going to be a next time, you big ape!”



“Good, now …,” but before I could continue, Carole jumped in.



“Honey, first of all, I was really mean to Dee-Dee and particularly to Charlie, and I need to apologise to them too.”



Dee-Dee and Charlie were drinking coffee and gossiping in the kitchen when I stuck my head round the door. “Ladies, there’s someone here wants to talk to you.”



They both jumped to their feet, and without a word rushed over to Carole and embraced her in a gigantic hug. “Oh, I am so sorry …,” was all Carole managed to get out before the others, almost together, told her that they were just happy she was back to her old self and that they both loved and cared about her. I felt a bit superfluous and wandered back to the lounge where Carole joined me a little later, looking more animated and cheerful.



It was now late afternoon, and I looked at Carole who was clearly tired in spite of now being in better spirits. “I know it’s early, Mum, but I have the usual prescription for you, a nice warm shower, and then get some sleep.”



“Okay, honey, that sounds like a good idea,” and in a short time, she was sound asleep.



I knew she hadn’t eaten for too long, so a few hours later I persuaded Dee-Dee to make us both a light supper, not that she needed much persuasion, and mum and I ate in bed, feeding each other titbits and making crumbs in the bed.

I went to bed later, but it was a bad night. Carole was restless, and this worsened as the night wore on, culminating in a dreadful nightmare. She thrashed around in the bed, crying and moaning, and I couldn’t comfort her. Eventually she screamed at the top of her voice, jerked upright, drenched in perspiration, eyes open and staring, gibbering about her father. I held her and attempted to calm her, and eventually the storm passed and she dropped into a heavy sleep.



I was up early next morning and joined Dee-Dee and Charlie in the kitchen. “Is Carole alright? I heard her screaming last night,” Charlie asked and I thought for a minute.



“I’m not sure, Charlie; Dee-Dee, what can you tell me about your father, please?”



“Hmm,” Dee-Dee looked troubled. “Oh well, it’s too late to worry about hiding the truth now. The fact is that he was a brute and a bully, and I think he sent our mother to an early grave; not only that, he never understood the needs of children. Harsh is an understatement—Donny was the only one who was ever able to stand up to him, and being the youngest, I was relatively unaffected. But Carole came in for all the punishment and she was often thrashed savagely with his belt for silly little mishaps. He never attempted anything sexual but he seemed to live by a rule that said that mistakes will not be tolerated and you must get punished hard to make you realise the error of your ways. Not that it ever worked, and I think that may have been the reason she jumped at the chance to get pregnant by Denzel. It was more to get away from our father than any genuine love for her husband.”



“I see,” I speculated. “It seems as if that message has been buried inside her and this partial meltdown has triggered a whole bunch of negative stuff associated with her father. Now it will depend on what way Carole goes, but I for one will do everything in my power to help her through this.”



Dee-Dee and Charlie were enthusiastically supportive in their responses, but we had to wait for Carole to see how she was faring this morning. We didn’t have to wait long before she appeared. Carole entered the room with her hair in a ponytail, wearing only jeans and a tee shirt and, I suspected, no underwear as her erect nipples were showing clearly through the tee. Her face was pale and set, and she walked over to me and immediately dropped to the ground and kissed my feet.



“Master,” she intoned in a tight voice suggesting she was only just keeping herself under control. “Please, master, I need you to punish me. I have done a very bad thing and I need to be disciplined.”



I was a little surprised that she should be so public; Dee-Dee and Charlie were clearly astonished.



“Carole, are you sure you know what you’re asking? We have forgiven you for what happened, why do you want to take this further?” I asked gently, knowing what her answer would be.



“Oh master, I know you have all forgiven me and I am eternally grateful, even though I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But I can’t forgive myself without being punished for my sins.”



I wasn’t surprised at this. “Very well, go straight to the bedroom, remove all your clothing, sit in the upright wooden chair and wait for me there while I decide on your punishment.”



“Yes master,” she said and getting to her feet, left the room.



Charlie and Dee-Dee looked worried. “Jesse, what are you going to do?” Charlie queried.



“Just exactly what she asked. I’m going to punish her.”



“Yes, but how?” Charlie persisted.



“Well, it must be sufficiently rigorous that Carole understands that it is a punishment but not so hard that she will be seriously harmed.”



“I hope you know what you’re doing, Jesse,” Dee-Dee added, as I left the room feeling none too certain myself.



In the bedroom, Carole was sitting demurely on the chair, knees together and arms crossed across her chest. “Master, how am I to be punished? I so much need to eradicate the demon that has taken residence in my soul.”



I looked sharply at Carole to make sure she wasn’t playing some sort of game, but there was no suggestion of any deception in her face. “First, Carole, I want you to tell me your safe word, and I want you to promise that you will use it if the punishment becomes too much for you to take.”



“Oh master, the word is ‘turnip’ but I shall not use it. This is so important to me and I trust you with every fibre of my being. Please discipline me,” she finished with a gasp.



“Very well, slut. I am going to shackle your wrists and ankles, although first, put this towel on the seat just in case you find your punishment, well, shall we say, too stimulating.” So saying I went to my toy cupboard and fetched a pair of fur-lined cuffs which I fastened to her ankles, then to the chair legs. In doing so, I exposed her beautiful, freshly shaven pussy, looking pink, delicious and decidedly edible. I had to almost physically restrain myself—to become engaged with her pussy at this time would have quite destroyed the effect I was aiming at.



For her wrists, I produced a lightweight spreader bar with cuffs already attached. This sat behind her neck and I locked her wrists to it, which had the effect of pushing her chest forward and highlighting her equally delectable breasts. During the whole process of shackling my little pet, she had gasped and whimpered in anticipation, partly from excitement but at least equally from apprehension.



“Now, slut, you are locked into position and cannot move from the chair.”



“No, master, but what will you do with me?”



“Well slut, next I intend to bind your tits to engorge them and make them much more sensitive.”



Carole gasped and moaned, “Oh god, master, I’ve never … oh god.”



I picked up a long piece of soft cotton rope and looped an end around her chest and tied it off at the back. Then I passed the rope around her body again, then twice around her right breast. The rope then looped around her shoulders under the spreader bar and twice around her left breast, finishing with two passes around the whole of her breast, again looping up around her shoulders. I had to be particularly careful that the rope was not so tight that it would completely cut off circulation, but tight enough to increase the sensitivity of her tits and nipples substantially.



During these preparations, Carole became increasingly wound-up, gasping, whimpering and jerking against her bonds. When I was finished, I bent and ran my tongue across her swollen nipples and she squealed; much more so when I bit gently into them. “Oh master, oh master, oh my god, what are you doing to me, I never realised … oh master, what will happen to me?”



I moved away from Carole briefly, going again to my toy cupboard, then back to my bound beauty.



“Well, well, slut, look what I’ve found.”



Oh god, oh god, oh god—the … the flogger,” Carole’s voice cracked and she croaked out her fears and forebodings.



“That’s right, slut, now, beg me to flog your superb super-sensitive tits.”



“Oh master, I don’t know, I’m not sure I can take this, oh master, please, please tell me what to do.”



“I’ve already told you slut, now BEG ME for your punishment,” I shouted at her.



This was the moment of reckoning. If I was right, Carole would obey me and her demon would be banished. But if she opted out via the safe word, she might never come to terms with her past. I think she realised that, and looked at me with total trust almost amounting to reverence.



“Please master, I beg you, please use the flogger on my breasts. Please hurt me and purify my soul. Please!”



I first drew the tails of the flogger slowly and lightly across her tits, making her gasp at the unexpected sensation, then with a light flick of my wrist, struck her puffy nipples. The effect was dramatic and immediate. Carole screamed and twitched as the soft suede strips struck her breasts. She writhed against the restraints and her head shook making her pony tail fly in all directions. Her screams were punctuated by loud, deep moans as the flogging continued.



I could soon see that something interesting was happening, and I stopped the flogging briefly and wiped my finger across her pussy. It was soaking wet and flowing with her juices; this treatment was creating a rising climax for Carole, and I put my finger into her mouth. She licked and sucked it voraciously.



“So, the naughty little slut is getting off on her punishment, is she?” I asked.



“Oh master, I am really sorry but I can’t control myself. I’m so surprised, but this is getting me worked up and the glorious hot sensation in my tits is transmitting itself straight to my cunt. Oh please don’t stop, give me more, master.”



I resumed the flogging but realised that it would be dangerous to continue indefinitely. Besides, the little rolling orgasms that clearly showed through her moans and gasps needed to be transmuted into one glorious, earth-shattering climax.



Carole moaned her disappointment when I stopped the flogging, but then screamed at the top of her voice when I introduced the vibrator/clit stimulator into her pussy. She jumped and bucked her butt into the air in an effort to maximise the pleasure, which was steadily building. Then for the coup de grace, I removed the vibrator, causing another moan of disappointment, but the scream returned when I got down on my knees and licked along her oozing pussy from her puckered arsehole to her throbbing clit.



I inserted first one, then two fingers into her sopping cunt while I rolled her clit with my lips, then bit gently into it. I knew then that the end was not far off. Carole’s screams turned into an almost continuous ululation, punctuated by a torrent of meaningless words until she shouted as loudly as she could, “I’m cumming, oh my god, I’m cumming.” Her scream was so loud, it hurt my ears, then she shook violently and went completely rigid as her orgasm thundered through her whole body, radiating from her cunt in a fierce flame of release.



As her scream quieted, Carole slumped forward, unconscious in the chair. I quickly released all the shackles and cut away the rope with blunt ended scissors. I picked up her limp body and placed it gently on the bed, then massaged her tits, using a soothing lotion to help restore circulation.



Carole regained consciousness and looked up at me with an expression of love, gratitude and acceptance, but as I moved to take the scrunchie from her pony tail, she said, “Please, master, not yet; I haven’t finished yet. I still have to humiliate myself in front of Dee-Dee and Charlie.”



“Oh Carole, my love, are you sure? They’ve completely forgiven you; you don’t need to put yourself through that as well.”



“Master, I don’t think you understand. I know they have forgiven me, and I am so thankful, but the problem is, I haven’t forgiven myself. For that, I must humble myself in their presence to show them and myself that I am truly ashamed of what I did.”



“Are you sure that this is what you need?” I asked cautiously.



“Yes, master, I’ve never been so certain of anything; this is all I need to complete my cleansing, although I’m not sure exactly what I need to do.”



“I see — well, I need to speak to Dee-Dee and Charlie about this and brief them about what to expect. In my absence, go to the toy cupboard, put on your knee pads, get out the collar and chain and find the vibrating butt plug with the tail attached.”



“Oh god, yes, master, that will be perfect. Oh please master, I beg you, let me do it that way.”



“Mmm, yes, bitch, some begging will certainly be required,” and with that I left the room to find the others. I explained to Dee-Dee and Charlie what was about to happen in general terms.



“Look, guys, you may find this quite bizarre and very uncomfortable—not in a physical sense but in the sense of being able to accept that this is what Carole needs to do. Please let this play out as she needs it to happen and don’t try to prevent it. That might spoil the whole outcome.”



“Okay, Jesse—you seem to know what you’re doing.” Charlie seemed rather uncertain, and Dee-Dee just sat with a worried expression on her face.



I returned to the bedroom where Carole had already put on the kneepads, fastened the collar round her neck and attached the chain. “Master, I’m sorry, but I couldn’t fit the butt plug.”



“Never mind, bitch, it will be my pleasure to slide it into your beautiful arse.” And so saying, I lubricated the plug generously and stroked her smooth, velvety cheeks. Then, pushing them apart, I rotated the plug slowly and made it disappear into Carole’s arsehole.



When I turned on the vibrator, she screamed quietly and sobbed with excitement at the sensation. “Oh master, thank you that feels so good. Now I must humble myself before Dee-Dee and Charlie.”



“Yes. I shall refer to you as ‘bitch’. You may not speak, except to say to Charlie, ‘Mistress, please forgive this miserable bitch. I am totally ashamed and I beg your forgiveness for what I did to you.’ When you do so, you are to sit back with your butt resting on your legs and hold your arms out parallel to the ground as if you are a dog, begging. When you have done that to Charlie, you must then move in front of Dee-Dee and do the same for her. Do you understand?”



“Oh yes, master, I understand and I want to thank you for being so generous and allowing me to do this.”



“Hmm, very well, bitch, now come this way,” and I led Carole on her hands and knees into the lounge.



Both Dee-Dee and Charlie gasped in horror and/or dismay as we entered, but Carole moved straight to Charlie, sat up and repeated her plea exactly as I had told her. Charlie’s face was tight and only just under control, but she said to Carole, “Of course I forgive you, you lovely puppy,” and so saying, she stroked Carole’s hair and ran her fingers gently behind her ears.



Carole’s next action astonished me as well as Charlie, for she took Charlie’s hands into hers and licked them, one by one, looking deep into Charlie’s eyes with an expression of humility and gratitude. Charlie turned away to hide her tears.



Carole then moved to Dee-Dee and repeated the formula. Dee-Dee burst into tears and could barely gasp out her forgiveness, but Carole’s response was even more surprising. She bent to the floor and licked Dee-Dee’s bare feet, then looked lovingly into her eyes and kissed the tears as they flowed down Dee-Dee’s face.



Carole then turned and looked at me, and we left the lounge, returning to the bedroom. Rather unexpectedly, Carole herself took the scrunchie off her hair and removed the collar and chain and the butt plug.



“I know a good little bitch is never supposed to do that, but … Jesse, I’m FREE—the demon has gone and I’m whole again.”



Here I jumped in both physically and verbally. I held her in my arms and said, “Carole, my beautiful Carole, my lovely mother, lover, mistress and everything else. I love you so much and I’m so grateful that you’ve come through this ordeal.”



She looked at me with a warm and enticing smile on her face. “Just you wait, big boy; I’m going to make it the biggest project of my life to show you just how grateful I am.”



“Mmm, I can hardly wait — but first we’d better have a chat with the others—I think they may be a bit confused.”



“Okay, honey,” she said, “you start the conversation and I’ll be out shortly when I’ve fixed my face—you know how it is with us girls!”



I wandered into the lounge and was promptly set upon by Charlie and Dee-Dee. “Jesse, how could you.” Dee-Dee was first into the attack. “Poor Carole, making her perform like that. I felt so sorry for her.” Charlie wasn’t far behind. “Jesse, that was unforgiveable. I don’t know how you were able to force Carole to do those things but you ought to be ashamed of yourself.”



This diatribe went of for some time, getting progressively more heated, when they were stopped by a voice from the doorway. Carole had “fixed her face” and was dressed in skin tight jeans and an undersized tee shirt which clearly showed her proud nipples. She was wearing four inch sling back heels and she sashayed slowly across to the chair in which I was sitting.



“Shall I show you girls just exactly what I think of Jesse and what he did to me?”



“Yes, that would be a VERY good idea,” Dee-Dee and Charlie chorused almost simultaneously.



Carole looked at me and grinned, then sat on my lap and ground her body into me trying to get as close as she possibly could. Then she took my head in her hands and kissed me in a way I had never been kissed before. She swept her tongue under mine and then seemed to try to perform a tonsillectomy with her tongue. Our lips stroked each other’s with a sensuous persistence that was almost better than sex (almost!) and our mouths seemed to be welded together in a soft, warm, sweet union. All the time, Carole cooed, purred and made meaningless, breathy sounds of passion and lust.



Eventually, we broke, gasping. As we did so, I heard Dee-Dee say to Charlie, “I think we may have got this wrong.”



Carole laughed. “Guys, it was never a question of what Jesse did TO me, but one of what he did FOR me. If you want to get some idea of how I feel about all this, take what you have just seen and multiply it by ten. You may then just catch a glimpse of the foothills of how I really feel about this big ape.”



She continued, “Now if you will excuse us for a short while, there is something I want to say to Jesse in private.” Carole grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the chair then led me out of the room, turning to wink at Dee-Dee and Charlie as she did so.



We went straight to the bedroom where she threw off her clothes in double quick time, then pushed me onto the bed and pulled off first my shoes and socks, then my shirt and jeans, leaving only my boxers. All this in silence



Carole looked at me with an expression so hot that it should have burned holes through me. When she did speak, she was brief and to the point. “I am going to suck your cock like it’s never been sucked before. In fact, I aim to suck your balls through your cock like sucking a golf ball through a hosepipe. This is just a start, now let’s get rid of those silly boxers,” and so saying, she ripped my boxers off and threw them onto the floor.



By now, I was very hard and my cock was starting to throb. “Mmm, somebody likes the idea of his mummy sucking his cock.” With that, Carole slid up the bed, pushing my legs apart, and started to use her tongue on the soft, sensitive skin at the inside of my legs, just below my balls. This had a very positive effect on the rigidity index of my cock, which was greatly increased again when she lapped round my balls, covering them with her saliva.



Then she went to work on my cock, licking slowly up the sides and concentrating on the soft, sensitive skin on the underside below the helmet. I could only groan and gasp at the delicious sensations she was creating, and I grabbed her head to hold her mouth close to me. Carole shook her head, just saying, “Later, my love,” and returned to completely bathe my cock with her warm, succulent mouth. Then she slid my cock slowly into her mouth, working over it with her tongue as she did so, and took it completely into her throat in a slow motion deep throat. I could feel her throat muscles working along my cock in an almost indescribable tight embrace that sent my lust fuelled nerve endings into overdrive.



Carole moved away slightly to breathe more easily and I trickled my fingers into her ears, making her giggle. “Enjoying yourself, you dissolute sex fiend, forcing your mummy to do these depraved things to you?”



“Yes, my own gorgeous nympho, I am somewhere close to the gates of heaven. Now get your sweet lips back onto my cock or I’ll die of frustration.”



Carole allowed her laughter to disappear into a deep sexy gurgle as she again deep throated me, working the whole of her throat, her mouth and her tongue over my by now super-sensitive cock.

“Oh god, Carole, this is so beautiful … please don’t stop … give me more … take everything I’ve got down that sweet throat … suck me suck me suck me … oh fuckfuckfuckfuck, I’m cumming, I’m cumming you glorious slut,” I screamed as by balls drew up tight and a shattering orgasm raced through my whole body and blasted up my cock into Carole’s warm waiting mouth. She held just the helmet in her soft welcoming mouth while I emptied everything I had into it. She swallowed, making soft “mmm mmm’s” of approval until I was completely empty and my cock started to shrink in exhaustion.



“Carole, my dear, sweet Carole, that was beyond fantastic, beyond humungous; beyond words, even.”



Carole growled deep in her throat. “Then shut up and kiss me,” which I did, long and hot and wet and sweet in a blissfully shared exploration of each other’s mouths, tasting the remains of my seed on her tongue as I did so.



Carole leaned up on one elbow and grinned at me. “There you go,” she laughed, producing a golf ball that she must’ve secreted under her pillow.



“Mmm yes, that’s just how it feels, but I wouldn’t want it any other way!” I whispered. “I love you so much, honey, and I’m so glad you’re back to your normal self again.”



We dressed and ambled out into the lounge. Dee-Dee looked up and saw the broad smile on Carole’s face. “You look like the cat that got the cream,” she commented.



Carole nearly choked laughing. “Well, yes, I guess you could say that’s exactly what happened,” at which Dee-Dee blushed a bright red



“Yeah, and cornered the market in cream futures,” I added.



This led to a series of highly questionable comments before everybody broke up laughing.



After all the stresses and excitements of the day, we all opted for an early night, and Carole and I were soon sound asleep. Only for a short while, however, because a few hours later, I was woken by the wholly delightful sensation of soft hands stroking across my back, chest and stomach.



“Wurgl! yermf! what the hell time is this,” I mumbled as I woke.



“It’s three o’clock, my love, and I need you to fuck me. Please, Jesse my darling it’s been so long and I so need to feel your beautiful cock buried deep inside me, flooding me with your rich cream. I just can’t wait, I need you inside me right now.”



I hesitated, more from still being half asleep than any objection to Carole’s demands. Not the right move; “Do me now, you motherfucker,” she growled, and leaning over, she kissed me fiercely, biting my lower lip and drawing blood.



“Ouch, Vampira, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”



“Getting your full attention, lover boy.” Her hand moved to my cock and she stroked it firmly. “Yes, the equipment is locked and loaded,” she giggled, but I needed revenge and bent to kiss her breast, biting underneath her right tit with enough suction to mark her.



“Okay, you dangerous woman, now you’ll have a nice matching hickey to go with my bruised lip.”



“That’s enough foreplay, so how do you want me, stud?” she demanded.



“This time, I think, on your back and hold your ankles round your ears so I can get a good look at the target.”



“Mmm, sounds good,” Carole cooed, and she grabbed her ankles and pulled them up, spreading her legs and revealing her beautiful shaved pussy already glistening with her dew.



I moved down intending to lick her pussy to get her even more worked up, but Carole forestalled me.



“Cock not tongue, buster. I need that big hunk of meat in me so far that I can feel it in my throat. Now, get to work.”



How could any red-blooded male resist such a demand? I moved into position and slid my throbbing cock smoothly into her hot, drooling cunt as far as it would go, with my balls resting against her arse.



“Oh god, yes, Jesse, that feels so good. I’ve felt so empty for days and your cock is perfect for filling me when I most need it. I love you, my darling man and right now, I lust for you so much. I don’t think I’m going to last very long and …”



Carole screamed as I started fucking her hard and fast, intense thrusts, powering in and out of her sopping pussy. This started her wailing for more, please god, more. I changed pace to longer, slower strokes, powering deep and feeling the muscles around her velvety sheath working against my excited prick.



Carole was now moaning continuously as her climax started to build. She called my name, begging me to fuck her and never stop, and my cock could sense her little preliminary orgasms as she clung to me and dug her nails into my back, a beautiful and exciting pain.



I gasped as my orgasm also started to build. “Oh Carole, you beautiful slut, get ready for the flood. I’m going to fill you to overflowing with my cum. Mmm, aargh, oh yesyesyes, fuckfuckfuck, I’m nearly there.”



By this time, Carole was in the same state. She shook and thrashed about underneath me mewling and shouting unintelligibly. Then she called out, “Jesse, oh Jesse, I’m cumming, I’m cumming, YES.” Her cunt clamped down on me as my cock grew even larger and my orgasm exploded through my whole body, my cum screaming up my cock to fill Carole’s waiting cavern.



We both collapsed with exhaustion, and I rolled sideways, dragging my shrinking cock out with a slight “pop”.



“Oh, he’s gone,” Carole complained, but I rolled over and kissed her.



“Don’t worry, gorgeous, plenty more where that came from,” and I heard her chuckle sleepily.



“I think what we both need now is sleep,” I suggested, but was greeted with soft sizzling sounds showing that she had already taken my advice.



I slept in the following morning, but eventually made my way to the kitchen where Carole, Dee-Dee and Charlie were gossiping. Carole looked mildly embarrassed and the others had obviously been laughing.



“Oho,” I said, looking at Carole. “Kiss and tell, hey?”



“Almost literally,” laughed Charlie. “Carole has been showing us her battle scar!”



“I see. Did Vampira also tell you what she did to me?” I said, sticking out my lower lip to show the bruise. This was greeted with more laughter and absolutely no sympathy, so I let the matter drop.



After that little interplay, the atmosphere changed completely, and Dee-Dee and Charlie looked embarrassed, defensive and extremely worried.



“Okay, guys, what’s the problem?” I asked, and they hedged, clearly having something to say but unwilling to say it.



“Look, you know you can say anything at all to us and we’re not going to get uptight about it. Trust us and whatever it is, we’ll work something out,” Carole was supportive and persuasive.



Eventually Dee-Dee breathed a huge sigh and burst out, “Charlie and I need to move out. I know that sounds so ungrateful after all you’ve done for us, and we don’t want to hurt you or make you hate us, but …”



“First of all, Dee-Dee, we will never, could never hate you,” I broke in, “I think I might understand why this is. You both feel you need space. Living together in one room can be quite claustrophobic; I know you’ve got the run of the house, but it’s not really enough, is it?”



“Yes, Jesse, that’s just it,” Charlie agreed. “With Dee-Dee determined to have a baby whenever, we need more space. And I can’t help feel that I’m pretty useless here — I help Dee-Dee, but I need my own career, and I can best do that from a proper home base.”



“Charlie,” Carole asked, “what sort of work did you do at the radio station?”



“Oh all sorts, but mainly promotions, marketing, advertising, that sort of thing, which I really enjoyed,” she responded.



“Dee-Dee,” my turn now, “do you just need more space, or are you looking for something more challenging than being our housekeeper?”



“Oh no, Jesse, I’m so happy here — if it was humanly possible, I’d like to stay on, but I don’t see how we can arrange that.”



“Hmm, I see,” I reflected, looking at Carole and noted a gleam in her eyes. “Do you have any immediate plans to move out, or do we have some time?”



Charlie took over as spokesman, “No, certainly not until we’ve found a suitable housekeeper and we can find the right place at the right price.”



“Okay, I get the picture. Would you and Dee-Dee mind if Carole and I had a brief private chat?”



Charlie shook her head and Carole and I retired to her office. “Do you want to go first, or shall I?” I asked.



“Well,” said Carole, “my business is in difficulties, not because of the technical side, I can handle that without trouble. However, I’m not too good at marketing and promotion. It occurred to me that, if Charlie and I can smooth over any personal issues we may have, I could offer her a job handling that side of my business, at a decent sort of salary.”



“Brilliant,” I enthused, “and for a sweetener, why not offer to pay her expenses if she wants to go to university or technical college to upgrade her theoretical skills? In fact, I’d be happy to pay that out of grandmother’s money.”



“Thanks, honey, we can talk about the source of the money later, but the idea’s a good one,” Carole commented. “Now what’s your idea?”



“Well, maybe we can kill two birds with one stone. You’ve been a bit on edge about how I’m going to use grandmother’s money,” Carole started to interject, but I continued, “don’t let’s argue about it now, because I reckon we could spend a good chunk of it by building on to the house. The area on the western side is pretty rubbishy — I reckon we could build a decent sized three bedroom place right next door. Completely self-contained but with a covered walkway between that and the existing house. Dee-Dee and Charlie could have a lifetime interest for a peppercorn rent, they would have space for a family and could be completely private. Dee-Dee could then keep on housekeeping, and Charlie and you would be close-by to keep the business bubbling along. What do you say?”



Carole stared at me in wonderment, then burst out in a shriek of delight. “Jesse, that is a marvellous, superb idea. As a sweetener in this case, we could give them pretty much carte blanche on the design and fit-out so that they can be comfortable with their own choices.”



“Yes, and we’ll find a hungry young architect who’s prepared to work with them quickly and effectively to get the project off the ground as soon as possible,” I enthused.



Carole threw her arms round me and we kissed deeply and passionately before returning to the kitchen to reveal our plans to Dee-Dee and Charlie. They were ecstatic when we told them. Dee-Dee burst into tears, but Charlie looked long and hard at Carole, saying, “You’d really do that for me? After what happened the other night?”



Carole dealt with that quickly by giving Charlie a big hug and saying, “Charlie, that was mostly my fault. I should’ve realised that I am straight, and my episode with Dee-Dee was a result of Jesse playing games. Even though it was fun at the time, I doubt whether I’ll ever repeat it. The job’s yours if you want it, and if you feel able to work with me.” Charlie crowed with glee and wanted to start there and then.



I looked at Dee-Dee who had now dried her tears. “A place of your own now, auntie, with your lover and a baby soon. Sounds pretty good to me,” I smiled.



“We can’t thank you guys enough for all you’ve done and are doing. I just don’t have the words …”



It was my turn to give Dee-Dee a big hug. “Don’t try, Dee-Dee—you’re family, we love you and we want to keep the family together.”



Dee-Dee favoured me with a beaming smile and I asked her for a quick chat. “Dee-Dee, as you know, it’s Carole’s 39th birthday in three weeks time. She’s had a rough time over the past couple of years and apart from anything else, I’d like to take her out to dinner and dancing at the Metropole, then spend the night there. Can I rely on you to firstly keep your mouth shut about this, and secondly, help me if I need any feminine support?”



Dee-Dee’s smile beamed even brighter. “The Metropole, hey? That’s where you first seduced my poor sister, isn’t it — returning to the scene of the crime?”



“You know the story perfectly well, you stirrer,” I laughed and she punched me gently on the arm.



“Of course I’ll help in any way I can, Jesse. My lips are sealed.” Dee-Dee imitated a zip being pulled across her mouth, then went off in search of Charlie.



I had invited Carole to dinner on the Saturday before her birthday, which was on the following day. She accepted with great excitement and she went into detailed consultations with Dee Dee and Charlie about what to wear, accompanied by much giggling and immediate silences whenever I appeared.



On Saturday evening, after I had struggled into my tux, I was waiting in the lounge when Dee-Dee entered smiling. “Mr Mason,” she intoned with great formality, “may I present to you your escort for this evening, Ms Carole McIntyre.”



It would hardly be true to say that Carole walked into the room, more that she floated in. She was wearing a dress of some silky clinging material in a rich burgundy colour that reflected the highlights in her hair. The dress was cut to reveal a mouth-watering cleavage, supported by a bra that was cleverly designed to maximise the impact of her gorgeous breasts without revealing everything at first glance. The hemline was cut an inch or two above her knees, not hugely revealing while she stood, but obviously offering more exciting vistas when she sat. Carole also wore smoky seamed stockings and three-inch patent shoes; her hair had obviously been brushed until it glowed, and was swept down over one shoulder. Her makeup was a fraction more than usual, and her fingers were tipped blood red. She completed the effect with an electric blue stole that shimmered around her milky shoulders.



I was speechless for a while, but eventually croaked out, “My god, Carole you look stunningly beautiful. Whoo hoo—I don’t understand how I am able to keep my hands off you. I shall try to behave like a gentleman because being with you is such a turn-on, and I shall take a great deal of pleasure in seeing every other guy faint from the sight of your beauty.”



Carole looked at me with smoky, seductive eyes and murmured, “Jesse, honey, this is all for you. I am going to enjoy myself this evening, and I’m gonna make certain that you do too.” She kissed me lightly on the lips as Charlie announced that the limo had arrived to carry us off. She and Dee-Dee applauded as we left the house.



The journey was soon over, and as we entered the hotel, it was obvious that Carole was the centre of many admiring glances. “You do realise that you’ve already been stripped and raped six times, don’t you,” I whispered, but Carole just giggled quietly.



“Five of those times were by me,” I continued, and she punched my gently on the arm, continuing to laugh.



We were seated at a quiet corner table and enjoyed a first class meal and some high quality wine. As the orchestra started up, I invited Carole to dance, and she immediately accepted.



There was something quite enchanting in the sensation of holding this beautiful, elegant woman in my arms. She moulded her body to mine and I thrilled in the feeling of her swaying and shimmering against me. The automatic response from my cock didn’t go unnoticed; Carole deliberately pressed herself against me, smiling seductively as she did so, allowing the swing and sway of her body to the rhythm of the music to stimulate me even more.



“You know, Carole, you are an extraordinarily dangerous woman,” I whispered into her ear.



“Am I?” she tried to sound naïve but couldn’t keep the laughter out of her voice.



“If you keep using your body on me like this, I will collapse in a quivering heap on the floor, begging for release.” I continued.



“Oh goody, another scalp for my collection,” she laughed and I spun her in a pirouette as the music reached its climax. In reply, Carole threw her arms round my neck and rewarded me with a luscious, mouth-watering kiss.



Throughout all our dances, her eyes were sparkling and she was unmistakably enjoying herself to the absolute maximum. That communicated itself to me, and I gained an enormous satisfaction both from Carole’s enjoyment and from my own sense of wonderment at the presence of this lovely woman so willingly in my arms.



During the “last waltz”, Carole simply snuggled her head onto my chest, and we hardly moved at all, simply holding each other close and allowing the music to soak into us.



Eventually, Carole picked up her wrap and we moved towards the entrance. Half way there, I changed direction. “Jesse, this isn’t the way out,” Carole queried, but I said nothing and guided her to the lift, pushing the button for the sixth floor.



Carole looked deep into my eyes and simply said, “Suite 23?” and I nodded.



“I see,” she smiled. “If I am an extraordinarily dangerous woman, you are a very naughty young man. I expect you will try to take advantage of me?”



“Of course,” I leered. “I shall force you to obey my every whim and fancy, and if I have to, I shall kiss you into submission.”



Carole laughed as we reached the 6th floor, then I opened the door of suite 23 and as soon as we were inside I spun her into my arms and kissed her deeply. Carole replied with just as much vitality and enthusiasm.



We went into the lounge and I opened the fridge, taking out the champagne I had ordered, opening it and pouring two glasses. “As it’s now after midnight, happy birthday, darling,” I toasted her.



Carole smiled but said nothing, then finished her glass and sat on my lap, nuzzling into my neck. I could only just hear her reply, “Thank you so much, Jesse. I am so happy, and I owe it all to you.”



I started to disagree, but she stopped me with a kiss. “No, honey, I know how I was and what a difference you’ve made in my life. Now don’t argue with your mummy!” and so saying she bit my ear lobe and giggled.



“I can see I may have to take stern measures with you, you minx,” I laughed, but Carole was several steps ahead of me.



“Well, are you just going to sit there all night chattering, or are you going to do something about, with or to me?”



“All three,” I continued the banter. “First, though, strip for me—nice and slow.”



“Mmm—but I need some help. Come here and undo my zip.”



I was out of the chair in a flash, and slowly lowered the zip on her dress. As I finished, I squeezed the cheeks of her arse, causing Carole to give a little gasp. She shimmied out of her dress, revealing a matching thong, finely sculpted bra, and her stay-ups.



“Like what you see, big boy,” she purred then slowly unclipped her bra, leaving it hanging from her shoulders. Then she looked at me with a sultry expression and said, “You want to see what’s underneath, you’ll have to finish the job.”



I moved quickly to her, and flicked the bra away, exposing her perfectly shaped breasts with large aureoles and nipples that were already hard with excitement. I bent and took first one, then the other nipple into my mouth, each time rolling and sucking them, and finishing by giving each a firm but quite gentle nip with my teeth.



Carole’s breathing became ragged and fast. “Ooh Jesse, that’s so nice. You know how much I love it when you play with my tits; they have a direct line of communication to my pussy and I’m starting to get wet already.”



“Oh dear,” I said with mock concern. “You’d better get rid of the thong, or it will get all damp and sticky!”



Still with the sultry, enticing look on her face, she replied, “I dare you. I dare you to take it off using only your teeth.”



Never being one to resist that sort of dare, I got down on my knees in front of her and eased my tongue under the edge of the thong, making sure it moved close to her pussy.



“Hey, that wasn’t part of the deal, you cheat,” Carole laughed.



“Silence, wench, this is sensitive stuff, and sometimes my tongue may slip out of control.”



Carole growled deep in her throat as I fastened my teeth on the scrap of material that had pretended to protect her pussy, and slid it down her legs. The aroma was almost overpowering — the scent of this highly aroused woman was a powerful aphrodisiac.

It was my turn to growl now, in appreciation of this beautiful woman standing before me wearing only stockings, heels and a look on her face that said more clearly than any words, “Here I am, now come and take me and do mind-blowing things to me.”



We stood within inches of each other, gazing deep into each other’s eyes before I reached out and ran my hands across Carole’s shoulders, down her arms and over the smooth intoxicating swell of her butt. Her skin was like warm silk, rippling and moving with the play of her muscles as I stroked and teased her. She shivered and linked her arms round my neck, giving me access to her beautiful tits with their areolas now deeply crinkled and her nipples rock hard. Moving slightly to one side, I swept a hand down around her breast cupping it, then shifting my hand up and pinching the nipple hard. Carole gasped and sighed, and did so again when I gave her other breast the same attention.



All this time, we had not spoken but communicated by looks and potent, arousing touches. This continued when I took Carole’s head in my hands and kissed her deeply and with long drawn-out desire. Her mouth opened and we kissed and nibbled at each other’s lips, with our tongues duelling in a wet, erotic dance



We broke at last, and I told Carole in a rasping voice, choked with lust, “Stay just where you are, and don’t move.”



She looked at me with a “naughty girl” half-smile, and replied demurely, “Yes, sir.”



I went into the bedroom, turned back and pulled down the covers, then returned to the lounge and swept Carole up in my arms causing her to squeal in surprise. I quickly carried her to the bed and deposited her in the middle of the spotless sheets.



She squirmed, her body undulating, and she reached her arms out to me. “I want you, Jesse, right now. I need you inside me, filling me with your beautiful cock. Please come and love me, my darling boy.”



How could I refuse — I lay beside her and whispered in her ear, “I want you to ride me so that I can play with your beautiful tits and watch as you cum. First, though, I want to make sure that the pump is primed.” So saying, I ran a finger across her sopping pussy, collecting her leaking juices, and put my finger to her lips. She sucked her juice from my finger urgently, humming as she did so.



“I must make sure,” I teased and sliding down, licked her open slit from her puckered arse to her clit, now standing proud from its sheath. I rolled her little nubbin with my tongue and Carole squealed and bucked, gasping with pleasure and anticipation.



Moving up again, I slapped her twice on the side of each cheek of her arse, eliciting more squeals. Then I demanded, “Now, my beautiful slut, impale yourself on my burning cock.”



Carole moaned, then swung one leg over me and positioned her dripping pussy over my rigid rod. Almost unbelievably slowly, she lowered herself onto me, her velvety sleeve gripping the whole of my cock. She moved forward, leaning on her hands and lowering her breasts until they touched my chest with unbearable lightness. Her hair flowed over our faces, closing us into a supremely intimate world of our own.



She began sliding herself up and down my cock and then raised herself to balance her body on her hands. Her tits swayed in front of me, offering an irresistible invitation to kiss, lick and bite them. Carole gasped and moaned with pleasure as I stroked my tongue around her areolas then nibbled at the nipples, moving from one to the other and causing her to tremble and whimper. “Oh god, yes, darling, please, please don’t stop. You know how much I love you to bite my nipples.” I did so, and Carole responded with a sharp intake of breath and a cry of pleasure, then pushed down hard around my rigid cock, forcing me into the depth of her steaming cunt and with our pubic bones grinding together.



She was gasping, moaning and driving herself up and down my cock, getting faster as she went. I pulled her head down and crushed her lips against mine. Our kiss was a firestorm of passion and we melted into one another, working our lips and tongues feverishly as our mutual orgasms came closer. At the same time, Carole clung to me, digging her nails deeply into my shoulders.



As Carole pushed down on me, I countered by pushing up to meet her in a reciprocal aching blaze of sexual hunger. Her eyes were closed; she bit her lip and threw her head back. Her body arched backwards making her breasts rise proudly from her body. I thrust upwards into her silken, trembling sex as she continued to ride me harder and more hungrily. We both moaned as the excitement and tension grew. I first pulled at her hard, erect nipples, causing her to gasp and squeal, then my hands moved down to her bottom and I squeezed her cheeks hard, pulling her down onto me as she continued to rotate her hips.



We looked into each other’s eyes as she continued sliding up and down on my cock. Her moans were a counterpoint to mine and she leaned forward, bracing her hands on my shoulders, thrusting herself fast and hard on my cock which was being thoroughly massaged by her sleek and silky cunt muscles.



Carole’s body started to shudder and she was near to the point of no return. “Oh Jesse, Jesse, oh god, fuck me until I can take no more then fuck me again. Fill me with your cum like I’m going to drown your cock inside me. Oh Jesse, my love, fill me, do me, screw me, fuck me, yes … yes … yes … YES.”



Carole shook like a tree in a gale and her screams were enough to send me over the edge. “Yes, you beautiful slut, you gorgeous bitch, I’m going to flood you with my cum. Oh god, you are so beautiful, I can’t … I don’t know … oh Carole, I’m cumming, cumming, NOW.” With those words, my cock detonated a huge load into the depths of her cunt, careering out of control through my electrified cock.



This was enough to send Carole thundering into a sensational orgasm, gasping, screaming and finally collapsing onto me in a quivering welter of sobs and incoherent words of lust.



As the ecstasy diminished and our breathing returned to something like normal, we kissed again, this time a soft, tender pledge of love and gratitude as well as a shared wonder that our lovemaking could be so beautiful and so fulfilling.



Carole looked at me and smiled a sleepy smile. “Oh god, Jesse, I love you so much, but I feel as if I’ve been turned inside out and had all my bones stripped away. I feel like a jelly would feel if a jelly could feel. Would you feel really offended if I go to sleep?”



“Of course not, sweetheart — I feel a bit the same way, although in my case, I feel as if I’ve been put through a press and turned into pulp. I love you too, and nothing right now could make me love you more. Turn onto your side and let me spoon into you, so the last thing I feel before I go to sleep will be your gorgeous body pressed close to mine.”



I heard Carole giggle softly as she turned, and we were both fast asleep very quickly.



We were both woken next morning by a knocking on the door announcing breakfast. I threw on a shave coat and brought in the meal.



“Happy birthday, my love,” I smiled, and after thanking me, Carole suggested that we should share breakfast in bed, and we fed each other, laughed and made all sorts of improbable suggestions about what we could do for the rest of the day.



After the meal, Carole got out of bed, gloriously naked. “I’m going to have a shower in this lovely big bathroom, and if you would like your hair washed, I’d be happy to do it,” she teased with a wicked twinkle in her eyes. I jumped out of bed, and raced after her, catching her a satisfying smack across her bare butt, being rewarded with a squeal and a quick kiss.



We soon lathered up, and I ran my soap-laden hands all over her body, generating purrs and gasps of pleasure. Carole washed my hair, getting sufficiently close to rub her tits over my chest, and I reciprocated by shampooing her soft thick hair, then washing it out with the hand shower which I turned, ‘by mistake’ I claimed, into her pussy, making her groan with delight.



Carole then surprised me by asking, “Jesse, honey, would you be prepared to give me a special birthday treat?”



“Depends what it is, gorgeous.” I replied.



She put her mouth close to my ear almost as if someone else was listening and whispered, “Fuck my arse!”



This alone almost made me cum, but I maintained sufficient self-control to ask, “Are you sure, sweetie — I don’t want to hurt you?”



“Yes, Jesse, I’ve never forgotten that first time, it was so unexpected and so incredibly exciting that I want some more.”



For some reason, anal had not been a regular part of our lovemaking, and I was also excited at the thought of filling her sexy arse. “Okay, lovely lady, I’ll be gentle—to start with, anyway,” I laughed.



With warm water still flowing over us, I soaped up and gently stroked in between Carole’s arse cheeks, sliding over her crinkled rosebud. She sighed and held onto me, then gasped as I eased a finger inside her, up to the second knuckle. She whimpered as I withdrew, but then squealed in delight as I went down on my knees and worked my tongue up into her anus.



“Ooh yes, Jesse, so good. I love the squishy feel of your tongue right there. Mmm, don’t stop — it’ so naughty but so nice.”



“Meanie,” she complained when I withdrew and stood up.



“Now let’s see how well we can fit something else in there,” I replied. “Hold onto the rail, bend forward and spread your legs as far as is comfortable.”



Carole hurried to obey, and I first stroked my fingers across her nether hole, then inserted first one finger as far as it would go and moved it around to start the loosening up process. Carole hummed with pleasure and anticipation. I inserted a second finger to further relax her sphincter.



Withdrawing again, I soaped up her hole and my cock, getting both very slippery. “Are you ready, you depraved slut?” I demanded as Carole giggled.



“Yes, yes, oh god don’t make me wait,” she pleaded, and I eased my now rampant cock into her tight opening. At first there was some resistance from her sphincter muscle, but Carole quickly relaxed, allowing my cock to slide into her back passage. She murmured and gasped with satisfaction as I worked in and out, slowly at first but gradually gathering pace as I sensed her opening up and starting to push back. Soon, Carole was fucking herself on my cock, her excitement growing in cries of delight and demands for me to “fuck my arse you big stud,” and “do me good, I love this,” and fill my rectum with your hot cum, lover,” and more erotic demands.



Carole’s climax was starting to rise and I decided to give it a helping hand — literally. I reached round and started stroking across her slit, now wet both from the shower and from her own juices. She screamed as I found her engorged clit and rolled it between my fingers, pinching it as I did so.



“Oh god, oh fuckfuckfuck I’m so near to cumming you motherfucker, don’t you dare stop.”



Using Carole’s soft, smooth arse and hearing her delighted responses had been taking me ever closer to my own climax. I could feel the cum starting to boil in my balls and the little electric shocks starting in my cock.



“Me too, you beautiful slut. I’m going to cum in you so hard. I’m going to fill you to overflowing. I’m going to make you scream with delight. I’m going to … oh my god, I’m there, I’m there, get ready for it; here comes my whole load,” I howled at last.



This, combined with my continued assault on both her anus and her clit were enough to send Carole over the edge, and as I had a major, roaring orgasm, she achieved the same result. Her screams rose in a crescendo and she shook violently, coming close to dislodging me. Her body locked up tight, including the muscles of her arse which held me in a vice-like grip. After what seemed like an eternity, probably ten seconds at the most, Carole gave a deep moan and relaxed completely, almost slipping to the floor. I held her tight around the waist and we both slowly subsided to the floor of the shower letting the water flow over us, washing away the tension but leaving a deep and beautiful feeling of joy and release.



We dried off, and dried each other off with much patting, stroking, laughing, kissing and general fooling around. I dressed quickly, but Carole looked at me, saying, “Shit, what am I going to wear? I can’t really get dressed up in my glad rags again.”



“Ah, well, you see, this is where my co-conspirators came in,” I laughed and handed her a neatly packed case with a sensible skirt and blouse, undies, pantyhose and shoes.



“Oho, so Dee-Dee and Charlie were in on your little plot to kidnap me and hold me here overnight, were they?” Carole also laughed. “I see they’ve stuck to ‘sensible’ rather than ‘outlandish’ and I’m very grateful.”



I sat on the bed, again watching Carole dress, with a broad smirk on my face. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?” she pretended severity, but the sparkle in her eyes gave the game away. “You’ve got this kinky thing about watching me dress.”



“Guilty as charged,” I grinned. “Now are you going to do the business and let me get my jollies or are we going to stay here all day?”



Carole tossed her head in the air in an attempt at scorn, but she dressed slowly and sensually, something I always found most captivating.



“Okay, Jesse, let’s go get a taxi,” Carole said and started for the door.



I took a deep breath and asked her to come and sit on the bed next to me. Carole looked a bit puzzled, but did as I asked.



“Mum,” I started, although I’d got out of the habit of calling her that in our sexual interludes. “I’ve got something to ask you.” She continued to look puzzled, but nodded her head in agreement.



At that, I dropped onto one knee in front of her and said, “I know that legally, this can never happen. But if it could, my dearest love, would you marry me?”



The puzzled look turned first to astonishment, then to a blaze of elation as what I had said sank in. “Oh you silly, silly boy. Of COURSE I would, yes, yes, a million times, yes.” She immediately grabbed me by both shoulders and pulled me up, delivering a big hot wet sloppy kiss — and then burst into tears. Clearly, though, these were tears of joy. Then looking straight at me, she asked, “What’s brought this on?”



“Well, I had this thought. I love you so much, and I wanted to sort of find a way for us to swear our love to each other. I realise that we can’t do that through the normal channels, but I don’t think that matters. What does matter is that we’re willing to commit to each other, ”til death do us part’. So I thought we might go home, then take a little while to write out some vows that we could make to each other. We could find a quiet, peaceful place and in front of two people that we love and trust and who love and trust us, we could repeat those vows, pledging ourselves to each other. What do you think?”



Carole burst into tears again. “Jesse, that is the most wonderful idea I have ever heard. Yes, an absolutely unqualified YES,” she shouted, then went silent for a while. “Jesse, do you think that those two people that we love and trust and who love and trust us might be interested in doing the same thing? Then we could be witnesses for them.”



“Carole, you are a genius. We’ll ask them as soon as we get back.”



She started to rise again, but I stopped her briefly. “One other thing, my love. We’ve just agreed to love, honour and oh boy, so this needs to be sealed officially.” So saying, I pulled a blue velvet box from my pocket and taking her left hand, slid a diamond engagement ring onto the third finger. For the third time, Carole burst into tears.



“Oh dear, I am crying so much, but I’m just overwhelmed with happiness. Jesse, this is so very beautiful; thank you so much. I shall wear it always.”



“Mmm, yes, although it might be a bit tricky to wear it on your left hand in public. Certainly in the house; maybe on your right hand in public?”



Carole looked deeply into my eyes. “I only have one thing to say to you, Jesse Mason. I am deeply, helplessly, totally in love with you — I think I always have been. What you’ve just said and done has told me that you feel just the same, and I want no more than this.”



“Carole, you are truly superb; I’m under your spell, and I think I always have been. And I want no more than that.”



We grinned at each other, grabbed our bags, caught a taxi and headed for home.



Dee-Dee and Charlie were in the lounge gossiping when we arrived, and they both knew instantly that something had happened. “Okay, you two,” Dee-Dee started, “you both look as if you’ve won the lottery; what’s going on?”



“Jesse asked me to marry him, and I said ‘yes”,” Carole crowed, flashing her ring to gasps of appreciation from the others.



“You two do know that you can’t legally do that, don’t you?” Charlie was always the practical one.



“Yes,” I replied, “but I don’t think that matters too much.” I explained our wish to make a public commitment to each other in front of them as witnesses, saying, “This gives it a substantial ethical or moral element that may not be present in a formal ceremony.”



“We also thought,” I continued to Charlie, “that you and Dee-Dee might possibly be interested …”



I was cut short by a simultaneously explosive cry of “YES” from both Charlie and Dee-Dee, and we all charged together for a huge group hug.



Three weeks later, after Dee-Dee had confirmed that she was pregnant, we gathered on the shore of a quiet bay in the warm sunshine of an early evening. First Carole and I, then Dee-Dee and Charlie recited our vows to each other with some tears of joy. To formalise it a little, we each signed a printed copy of the vows to keep as a reminder of our shared love.



I sprang one last surprise on my “bride”. “Sweetheart, do you remember just before Dee-Dee came into our lives, we were planning a holiday on an island in the Barrier Reef? Well, I’ve gone and done it again; we fly out for our honeymoon in two days time.”



Carole jumped and squealed with delight, but then sobered down just a little. “What about Dee-Dee and Charlie?”



“Well,” I replied, “Dee-Dee and Charlie have agreed to hold the fort until we get back, then I’ve arranged to stake them for an identical holiday in the same place for their honeymoon.”



Whoops of joy all round greeted that announcement, and we finished the day with a toast to all of us, before we returned to something roughly approximating normality.



Epilogue



We have now reached a point where we should say farewell to Jesse and Carole, Dee-Dee and Charlie so that they can be allowed to live their lives without the ever present pen of the biographer peering over their shoulders. All the same, the fiction writer does have the luxury of being able to look into the future.



Dee-Dee gave birth to a healthy daughter named Jessica Carole, and three years later, she had a son, Simon Jesse. Simon was also Jesse’s son, but Dee-Dee decided that this time she’d agree to be “messed around” by a gynaecologist rather than take the risk of family tensions over another natural impregnation. The “add-on” house was completed, although not until shortly after Jessica’s birth, and Dee-Dee, Charlie and their family soon turned it into a warm and happy home.



Jesse finished his psychology degree and after an “apprenticeship” in the city, set up his own practice in an office built onto the original home. He also set up his photo studio, and gained a reputation for very discreet but very sensual glamour photography. He also converted another of the old farm sheds into a small gymnasium and eventually a heated pool and spa for the families.



Carole’s business flourished with Charlie’s marketing skills, particularly after she finished a marketing degree and they went from strength to strength.

Caryn Alessia was the fourth-born of Darin Alessia, King of Perchhold and its people, the Pariches. She had three elder brothers: Aric, the tempestuous eldest, Etan, the second and his brother’s bootlicker, and Nathan, the third and only brother Caryn had ever been close to.



It was these three brothers that made Caryn so nervous on the eve of her eighteenth name day. The day marked the time for her passage into adulthood. From that day forward, she was available to be courted, and her father could arrange her marriage to whichever of her suitors he preferred. These were not the things that kept Caryn awake, however, tossing restlessly beneath her sheets.



By Parichan custom, although Caryn was capable of becoming an adult once dawn broke on her name day, she would not be truly considered a woman until she was made so — by her brothers. From her eighteenth birthday to her wedding night, a young Parichan woman belonged to her male siblings, who were responsible for teaching her the ways of pleasing a man, making her a good and dutiful wife.



For most Parichan girls, that meant sharing a talk over dinner with her brother, and a gentle, fumbling evening in his bed to break her hymen. The ties of brotherly love generally demanded no more, and the woman went on to her husband while the brother returned to his daily life, and his own lover or wife.



But Caryn had three brothers, all known for their experience, their appetite, and their occasional brutality with women. As Caryn had edged closer to this fateful day, her fear had grown, just as her legs grew long and slender and her breasts ripened and grew round and heavy on her chest.



She had pictured it on occasion: what it would be like for a man to lie atop her, his manhood pressed against her abdomen, her lower lips, her inner walls. She had closed her eyes and touched herself as she imagined a lover might, but in the end it was only her own fingers, and the fear of the unknown pain or pleasure that awaited her at eighteen did not subside.



It seemed like she had only just lain down that night, the eve of the fateful day, when the first grey glow of approaching morning began to appear. Her last night of childhood innocence had fled.



She kept her eyes fixed on the ceiling when a servant entered her chambers to bring the coals back to life in her grate. Wrapped completely in her own dread, Caryn had not even felt the chill descend on her through the night. She expected the woman to leave when the task was complete, but instead she laid a gentle hand on Caryn’s shoulder.



“Prince Aric told me to have you bathed and dressed as soon as you woke, my lady.”



Caryn sighed, letting her tired eyes close for a moment. “Yes, alright.”



“I’ll have a bath drawn for you right away, my lady.”



The bath was restoratively warm and aromatic, more restful than her night in bed had been. She would have liked to linger, but her pair of maids were wary of Aric’s wrath, and scrubbed her hastily.



They were just handing her out of the bath and preparing to dry her when the door to her bedroom swung open. All three of them tensed, but Caryn relaxed again once she saw that it was not Aric, but Nathan, her favorite brother. He was only two years older than her, and she loved him dearly.
 “Nate!” she said, reaching out for the towel her maid held. The woman pulled it just out of her reach.



“My lady, forgive me,” the girl murmured. “But — since — you oughtn’t cover yourself without His Highness’ permission, not today of all days.”



All the dread she had felt the night before came flooding back to Caryn, and she felt her cheeks and neck grow red and hot. She crossed her limbs, trying to hide herself.



“What?” Nathan asked as he walked in. He noticed the awkwardness of Caryn’s stance and understood what had been said. “Oh, gods, woman, give her the towel!” His voice was rough with irritation, but a blush grew up in his cheeks as well. “Leave us,” he told the maids when they had complied.



Caryn wrapped herself in the towel hastily without meeting her brother’s eyes. She had never feared him before, but she imagined something predatory in him now, and the cold unease was like ice in her belly.



“It’s early, brother. Are you racing Aric to be the first at me?”



Nate bent until his face was beneath hers, looking up into her eyes. He smiled. “It’s your birthday, Cari. I brought you a surprise.”



She looked up at him, squinting. “A present?”



Nate rolled his eyes. “No, a rabid baboon. Yes, a present.”



He took her hand in his large, warm one and led her back to her bed, sitting her down and pulling something out of the bag he had slung across his body. He held it behind his back in both hands. “Guess.”



Caryn laughed. “Give it to me!”



“You have to guess!”



“A book?”



“No.”



“Chocolate?”



“No.”



“I don’t know, Nate. A puppy?”



“No. Gods, you’re awful at this.” He swung his hands around and presented his gift with a flourish. It was a beautiful silver flute, engraved with twirling curlicues and a message in tiny letters: For my sister, on her eighteenth name day. Love, Nathan



“Oh, Nate! It’s beautiful!”



“You like it?”



“It’s amazing. Where did you get it?”



“I sent for it from Goantha. Now you can get rid of that reed thing you’ve been playing for so long.”



“But I like the reed flute! You made it for me.”



Nathan made a face. “I was twelve. It’s hardly a master craftsman’s work. This, on the other hand…”



Grinning, Caryn threw her arms around her brother’s neck. “Thank you. I love it.”



They sat on her bed and talked easily of everything. That was the way with Nathan: easy, companionable. They forgot themselves in the simple pleasure of each other’s company, and an hour or so passed companionably that way. Caryn had forgotten Aric’s order for her to be brought to him when she was clean, but Aric had not.



Caryn’s eldest brother entered her room with none of the smiles that Nathan had worn. Caryn and Nate did not notice him for a moment, sitting side by side on her bed, talking and laughing like the oldest of friends; it gave Aric time to appreciate the way his sister’s body looked wrapped in naught but a towel.



Caryn saw Aric first and the smile slipped from her lips. She raised a hand to cover the half-moon swells of breast that the towel did not entirely contain.



“Sister,” Aric said stiffly, “I requested your presence this morning. Dress, please.” He turned to Nathan with an eyebrow raised. “Up so early, brother? Why don’t you join us. Etan and I were just going to discuss with Caryn how the next few months would be handled.”



“I would prefer not,” Nathan said, his tone just as formal as his brother’s.



“I insist,” Aric said, and the matter was closed.



Caryn dug through her wardrobe with one hand, clutching at her towel with the other. In the back, she found a pale blue dress, high-necked and long-sleeved, accented with ribbons. It was a child’s dress, and perhaps would remind Aric that she was his baby sister first, and a woman second.



She glanced over her shoulder; both brothers were watching her. As quickly as she could, she dropped her towel and tugged the dress over her head. For a moment, she struggled with the arms, and the dress halted, halfway covering her bottom. When she managed to cover herself completely with it and situate it comfortably on her body, her breath was coming harder, and her face was red with effort and embarrassment.



Aric jerked his head toward the door, indicating that she should precede him out of her bedroom, and Nathan followed. When they arrived in Aric’s chambers, just down the hall, Etan was there as well.



“Family meeting,” Nathan muttered, and he winked at Caryn, hoping to coax a smile out of her. Her trepidation was too great to permit the answering grin.



The four of them seated themselves around Aric’s table.



Aric spoke with quiet authority. “Brothers, I’m sure we’re all aware of the responsibility that has fallen to us today, on our sister’s coming of age day. We are to shape her into a proper woman, capable of fulfilling the needs of her husband. No lord worthy of marrying a princess should have to stoop to training her in his pleasure himself. As her brothers, it is our duty to break her, to coach her, to teach her everything we know of what a wife must be.”



Caryn was taking deep, calming breaths. It did not sound so bad, when he spoke of it that way. They were her brothers, after all. They would be gentle with her, take care of her. She should almost be looking forward to it, she told herself. She would be glad to be a wife her husband could be proud of.



“I intend to make Caryn my first priority,” Aric continued. “Father has already begun negotiating with suitors. We will have only a few months before the wedding.”



Etan, seated beside his older brother, was nodding along stupidly. He would do whatever his brother asked him to do. Nathan was scowling at his hands, splayed on the table, as Aric prattled on.



“I’m sure we each have plenty to share with her, so we will have a daily rotation. I will take this first night, then Etan, then Nathan.”



Nate looked up at that. “I want nothing to do with this.”



Aric’s eyebrows shot up. “You have nothing to teach our sister?”



“Not with my cock, no.” Caryn flinched at the word.



Eyes narrowed, Aric stared his brother down, and Nathan matched him stare for stare. At length, the elder brother shrugged. “Fine. She will have to do with the knowledge of two brothers.” His gaze snapped to Caryn. “Anything to say?”



“I…don’t…”



“What? You don’t what?” Aric glowered.



Caryn took a deep breath and met his eyes. “I don’t want you to have my first night.” Aric had always been her least favorite; harsh, commanding, distant, cruel. He was eight years her senior and had hardly noticed her but to complain about her behavior for most of her life. It seemed entirely unfair that he would claim her maidenhead.



“That’s not for you to decide. I’m the oldest.”



“It’s my body!” Caryn said hotly.



Striking like a snake, Aric’s hand shot across the table and seized her arm, pulling her roughly to her feet. His face was eerily calm as his grip crushed her wrist. “No, dear sister. It is my body, and Etan’s, and Nathan’s, until it is your husband’s. It will never belong to you again. Do you understand?”



Caryn blinked rapidly, and had the small triumph of not crying in front of him. “Yes.”



“Yes, what?”



“That’s enough, Aric,” Nathan said, standing now as well.



“It will be enough when I say it is. Now, sister, what do you call me?”



“…brother?” Caryn posited. Aric shook her.



“You will call me ‘my lord,’ just as you will your lord husband, once you’re wed. Do you understand?”



“Yes…my lord.”



“You enjoy this too much,” Nathan hissed.



“It is always a joy to do my duty,” Aric retorted. “If only you were as dutiful, little brother.”



Nathan shoved his chair backward and left without a word, jaw clenched. Caryn suppressed the urge to call him back.



“A pity, but not everyone is fit to teach,” Aric said, turning back to his sister. “There’s to be a ball in honor of your coming of age. I’ve had a dress ordered for you. I will be your escort. What do you say?”



“Yes, thank you, my lord.”



“Good girl. Now go. Etan and I have things to discuss.”



“Yes, my lord.”



***



Nathan was in Caryn’s room when she got back. He still looked stormy, although he was absorbed now in examining the flute he had given her.



“Not thinking of taking it back, are you?” She grinned as she sat down next to him. Her leg brushed his, and he shifted away abruptly. Belatedly, he returned her smile, but his discomfort had already leeched the joy from the moment. “What are you thinking about?”



“Am I a bad brother?” Nate’s eyes were troubled. “Am I remiss because I don’t want to teach you how to yield to a man? I know it’s custom, but—” He cupped her face with his hand for a moment, brushing his thumb over her cheek. “You’re my little girl, my baby sister. I don’t want to think about a man between your legs, much less be that man.”



Caryn took his hand from her face and held it between hers. His hand was so large that even both of hers could not come close to covering it. “You’re not a bad brother. Of course you’re not.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Only…”



“What?”



“I do wish, a little, that you were more…dutiful.”



For an uncomfortably long stretch of seconds, there was silence. Nathan was staring at her hands on his, his jaw clenched. “Why would you wish that?” he asked at last.



“If there’s to be any man…I would prefer someone I trusted. I’ve always been comfortable with you…” She put one of her hands on his leg, but he jerked away, standing up off the bed.



“Don’t ask that. I don’t like the custom, Cari.”



“I understand that you don’t want me, but that’s the point, isn’t it? I mean, of having brothers…” Caryn paused, collecting her thoughts. “You would be kind to me, Nate. Aric’s not kind, and Etan won’t be either, if Aric tells him how to be.”



“Enough! No, Caryn. I will not be part of this. You have no lack of brothers willing to teach you. Leave me out of it.”



She leaned forward and seized his arm in both hands. “You wouldn’t have to go on for months, just this first—”



“Stop, Caryn. Absolutely not.” He shook her off and fixed his eyes anywhere but on her. “You don’t understand what you’re asking.”



“I’m asking you to uphold the practice of our land!” she said hotly. “And I’m asking you to protect me from an unpleasant night with our eldest brother.”



“And I’m asking you to leave me out of this!”



He stormed almost to the door before realizing he still held her flute. Relaxing his clenched fists, he laid it on her desk, near her door, and left.



Caryn was troubled. She did not understand what upset Nathan so about the arrangement. Men had been easing their sisters into womanhood for generations; it could be uncomfortable, yes, to substitute a sense of duty where there should be passion and lust, but it was nothing new. She wished he would tell her what was distressing him.



She crossed the room and picked up the flute. She liked the weight of it in her hands. Sucking in a breath, she pressed her lips to it and played a trilling set of notes. It was not so different from the reed flute, although it’s sound was clearer and sweeter. She whiled away the afternoon, playing songs she and Nate had made up, missing his sweet tenor voice singing along.



When her maids came to dress her for the ball, her lips were rosy and swollen, and the simple joy of her music had brought the color back into her youthful face. They commented on how lovely she was, and how she would impress the suitors at her ball, and how proud her father would be to have such a beautiful daughter.



They spoke of the guests who would be in attendance, of handsome Lord Haster, Duke of Cantanos; the widower Lord Ambren of the Silver Isles, who had been married four times and lost each wife more mysteriously than the last; Alistor Tandry, heir to his father’s titles and Baynesse Castle, just eighteen himself and strong as an ox. The list was long, and Caryn knew all the names, though she had not met all of them face to face. The guest list was heavily weighted with men.



“You’ll be dancing all night!” Lisel, one of her maids, exclaimed. Caryn tried to share their glee, but her stomach was doing flips. Yes, she’d be dancing all night — with the men at the ball, and then at Aric’s whim.



At length, the maids spun her around to the mirror over her vanity, and she saw there in the glass the woman these men were lining up to marry.



Draped in shimmering emerald silk, Caryn’s milky pale skin looked like porcelain. With her dress laced tight, Caryn’s breasts pressed up into tantalizing décolletage. Matching green ribbons were braided into her dark russet hair, and Lisel had lined her grey eyes with kohl. She looked, undoubtedly, like a desirable woman.



A knock at the door — Aric. He swept into the room looking gallant and handsome. Caryn eyed him, summoning enthusiasm for their evening together. He was tall, about eight inches taller than her, and his shoulders were broad. His body was well-muscled, but where Etan had grown bulky with his strength, Aric seemed lithe and dangerous. His eyes were grey, like hers, but several shades darker, and they were framed by long lashes that softened the otherwise harsh planes of his face.



A brief flash of his even, white teeth served for a smile and he took her hand, bowing over it and brushing a kiss across her knuckles. “Good evening, sister. Are you ready? Your suitors await.”



“Yes, my lord,” she murmured. Her maids had gone silent; they found Aric very attractive, and quite frightening. His anger was legend in the castle.



As he led her to the Great Hall, Aric politely extended his arm for her to take. The noise grew as they approached the ballroom until it was almost beyond what Caryn could stand. Almost immediately once she and her brother entered, however, the room quieted.



“I present Her Highness, Princess Caryn Alessia,” Aric announced, swinging her out in front of the gathered crowd. The room rang with applause, all eyes on Caryn.



Like a clockwork doll, she danced obediently as she was handed from one man to the next. Hours passed. When her partners desired conversation, she responded to their polite questions. Many requested a second dance, but Aric was always there to firmly remove her hand from one partner’s and place it in another’s. As her feet began to ache from the effort of moving her gracefully through the crowd, she leaned more and more heavily on her partners’ supporting arms. None complained.



She was despairing of ever escaping the endless loop of dances when she found her hand being pried away from Lord Someone-or-Other’s by Nathan rather than Aric. Caryn was in such a daze that she had danced several steps with him before she recognized her youngest brother. “Nate! I didn’t think you would come.”



“It is your birthday ball,” he said quietly. He hugged her to himself more snugly. “I am here to celebrate with you.”



“I played your flute. It was wonderful.”



“I’m glad you like it.” Caryn relaxed against Nathan. He was an excellent dancer, a strong lead. “The ball is almost over,” Nate said.



“Is it?”



“Aric is looking for you.” Nate implied that he should return her to her escort, but they continued dancing, spinning gracefully amidst the music. Nathan’s next words were so quiet she almost missed them. “Don’t let him hurt you.”



“What?”



“He is your brother and your prince, but don’t forget that you are a princess, and the most powerful woman in this realm. Don’t let him hurt you.” Nate was whispering fiercely, clutching at her arms in his eagerness. They had stopped dancing, standing still near the center of the dance floor. Couples swung past them in a drunken orbit.



“I’ll…try,” Caryn said. If she had not been afraid before, she certainly would be now. Nathan’s worry for her was written on his face as he led her off the floor and returned her hand to Aric.



“Ah, good, I was just wondering whether you had spirited her away. Come, Caryn. All this has been to celebrate your becoming a woman. Let’s make it so.” His hand closed like a vice around hers, towing her steadily toward the exit. She glanced over her shoulder at Nathan, who was watching her leave with a puzzling expression, part anger, part anxiety, part something she could not recognize.



Caryn found herself dragging her feet, pulling against Aric’s lead as he half-carried her out of the ballroom. She was afraid, so afraid of him. She watched his broad back as he tugged her along like a little girl behind him, and her joints seemed to turn to jelly.



Long before she was ready, they had arrived at Aric’s chambers, and he sat her down on the bed. Seating himself across from her in an armchair, he began to pull off his boots. After much jerking, he managed to toss the first one onto the floor, but the second would not budge.

“Pull off my boot, girl,” he commanded. His gestures were strangely expansive, his voice too loud. Caryn remembered what Nate had said, that she was a princess in her own right and deserved to be treated well, and she grew angry.



“Call me by my name, my lord,” she said, making no move help him in his struggle to free his foot.



Aric squinted up at her, his face hard. “Come here and pull off my boot, Caaari,” he said, dragging her name out in a sing-song imitation of Nate’s voice. Caryn stiffened at the harsh, mocking sound of it. “That’s Nathan’s nickname for you, isn’t it? Caaari? You like it when he calls you that?”



Her brother leaned forward, putting his face scant inches from hers, and spoke more loudly, biting off his words. “Help me with my boot.” His breath was heavy with the spoiled smell of wine.



“Aric—are you drunk?”



There was a false levity in his voice, a dangerous lilt that did nothing to hide the dark mood her brother was in. “I don’t think it’s any of your business, one way or another, Caaari. Tell me, how long has it been since Nathan first stuck you?”



“What!?”



“I’ve seen the way he looks at you, Caaari. The two of you are like peas in a gods-damned pod. How long has he had his cock up your skirt?”



Caryn was stunned and increasingly angry. “How dare you? Nathan has never touched me!”



Ignoring her, Aric continued, “Not that I blame him. I’ve been waiting for this day for a long time, sister dear, watching you grow out of your skinned knees and into a body that could make a blind man hard. I’ve thought about it, what I would do when I got this chance to claim your — well, not your virginity, I suppose, since Nate has that—”



Caryn slapped him with her full strength, rocking his head back on his neck. For a moment, she felt vindicated, but her satisfaction melted into uneasiness, and then to terror as Aric fixed cold eyes on her.



“You would strike me? Your brother?” he asked. He spoke so softly she barely heard him over the pounding of her heart. She knew that face; she had seen him rage against a man who had insulted him, seen him beat that man almost to death with his fists.



“Aric, I—” His hand closed around her throat as she struggled to make an excuse, lifting her off her feet. She hung there for a moment before he released her and let her collapse backward against his pillows. He clambered up onto the bed, standing atop the springy surface and towering over her. For a moment, he only stared at her as she trembled on his blanket, then he pulled back his booted foot and kicked her squarely in the ribs.



She cried out, clutching at her side and curling away from him, and he dropped to his knees next to her. “Should have helped me with my boot, Caaari,” he jeered. “Now, pull it off.”



Taking sobbing, staccato breaths, she turned back to his proffered boot and yanked at it until it came free of his foot. She tossed it onto the floor next to the bed. “Aric, you’ve been drinking. Let me—” He slapped her hard across the face.



“Now my belt,” he said calmly, and with shaking fingers, she complied. “Take off my shirt. Carefully!” She loosened the ties at his neck and pulled it over his head, dropping it on the bed. Dread gnawed at her chest like a hungry beast. “Stand by the bed.”



Caryn crawled off his mattress, scrambling to her feet. Aric’s hand rubbed against the bulge in his trousers as he watched her. “Now…off with the dress.”



Whimpering, Caryn demurred. “Aric, please! Not like this. You’re angry!”



With a growl, Aric reached into the drawer of his night table, where he kept the knife he had been given on his own eighteenth name day. He seized it by the handle and, ignoring his sister’s increasingly desperate protests, jerked it through the fabric of her dress, neck to navel. His hands were not as steady as usual; he had scratched her along her sternum, and a thin line of blood ran between her breasts.



Aric dropped the knife and ripped the remainder of the dress away from Caryn’s body, leaving her exposed to the chilly air as it fell to the floor. Her pale skin was studded with gooseflesh, and her nipples had tightened to pink nubs. There was a nasty bruise forming along her ribs where he had kicked her, but below that was only her milky smooth skin, curving deliciously at the hip, disappearing into the dark curls between her thighs, running taut down the length of her long, tapered legs.



Her attempts to cover herself with her hands were all the more titillating for Aric; the image of her pale hand against the backdrop of dark hair made his cock jerk, imagining the times she must have buried her fingers in that nest, seeking warm, wet release.



“Turn around. Let me see all of you.”



She shook her head frantically, trying to form the words that would make him stop, but unable to find her voice. Aric gave her no time for protests. He stood and pushed her down onto her stomach on the bed, reveling in the smallness of her, the suppleness of her skin. She wriggled and clawed at the sheets, trying to crawl away, but he clung to her shoulder and waist and held her in place.



Caryn fought to turn herself over and succeeded in twisting onto her side, giving herself a view of him throwing off his trousers. A frantic noise, a keening half-scream escaped her mouth as he released his penis, and she kicked at him, connecting with his thigh and pushing herself off the other side of the bed. When her hands hit the floor, she began to drag herself away from him.



“Where are you going, Caaari?” The sing-song voice was back. Aric grabbed her ankle and jerked her back onto the bed, where he was now kneeling, one fist pumping up and down along his shaft. He seized both of her wrists in one hand and stared down at her, pleasuring himself. Her struggles were making her breasts toss and joggle in the most appealing way. He knelt on her legs so the she could not kick him.



“Aric, I beg you, let me go. This is not the way! Tomorrow, when you’re sober…” Caryn trailed off, unable to continue.



“Would you like to know a secret, sister?” Aric asked, stroking himself more rapidly. “I am not drunk. I only drank the single glass of wine I intended to give to you. I thought it might make things easier for you. But I watched you dancing with Nathan, I saw the way you pressed your body against his. And I knew then that his cock had been inside you before, probably many times, and you didn’t need the wine to dull a virgin’s pain.”



“I have never had a man, Aric, I swear!”



She seemed in earnest, but Aric had heard whores swear as much, and as vehemently. “Then let’s see, shall we?”



He let go of his member and took his weight off his sister’s legs. She immediately began to kick at him again, and he fought her one-handed for several minutes before he grew too irritated. Taking hold of one wrist in each hand, Aric slid off the bed and stood, hauling Caryn off after him. She groaned when her lower body hit the floor, and hissed as she was dragged across the ground to his wardrobe.



Inside was Aric’s collection of tools and toys, the things he was forced to use when his ladies did not submit as they ought. From it, he drew a rope, with which he bound his sister’s wrists.



“Aric,” Caryn said breathlessly. “Aric, no!”



Years ago, he had had an iron hook put into his ceiling just over his bed. He carried Caryn back to it, lifting her bound wrists over it so that she hung from the hook by the rope that connected them. She began to make a most pathetic noise; the pain in her shoulders in that position was intense, and she could not take the pressure off of them with her toes just brushing the surface of the bed.



When Aric stood before her, his erection was level with her mound, and he seized her hips, crushing her sex against his.



“A virgin, she says,” he muttered to himself, staring down at her breasts as they jounced with each movement Caryn made. “We’ll see about that. We will see.”



With his fingers digging into her waist, he began to lift her. A blessing at first for the relief it gave her burning shoulders, the movement almost immediately filled Caryn with horror. He would lift her up and drop her down onto himself. “No, Aric!” she screamed. His cock was rubbing between her nether lips with unbearable friction. She imagined the way she would tear open when he penetrated her and began to wail, bawling uncontrollably, her eyes scrunched shut and hot tears salting her face.



This, it seemed, got through to her brother at last. Still holding her by the waist, he put his forehead against hers. She opened her swampy eyes.



“You want me to let you down?” he asked. She eyed him for a moment, then nodded warily. “Would you lay down like a good girl and do what I ask if I let you down?” She began to cry again in earnest, and he shook her. “Listen to me! The alternative is hanging here while I impale you. Is that what you want?” Caryn shook her head. “Then you’re going to behave?” Sucking in a shuddering breath, Caryn nodded.



Aric lifted her off the hook and lay her down on the bed. His anger was spent; all that was left was the lust for his sister’s young body. Caryn curled into a fetal ball, wrapping her arms across her face and sobbing into the crooks of her elbows.



“Caaari,” he whispered. He ran his hand over his shoulder and down her side, careful of the dark bruise there. His fingertips dragged back up, trailing along her stomach and tracing the curve of the bottom of her breast. Caryn shuddered under his touch.



“Caaari,” he called quietly again. “I am going to make you want me. Your wet cunt is going to beg for me.”



Sobbing harder, Caryn curled up more tightly, but there was no defense for her naked body against her brother’s featherlight caresses. He cupped her breast, testing its weight in his hand. His thumb rubbed against her nipple and found it still pinched hard against the cold, so he rolled it gently between his thumb and forefinger. He knew how to be gentle.



“Don’t be scared, sister,” Aric murmured. “You just made me angry, that’s all. I won’t hurt you now. I’ll make you feel good.”



He lay down behind her and stroked her back with both hands, sliding one hand down to her rear and massaging her cheeks, bringing the other around her waist to press her body back against his. He was still erect, pressed now along the crevice of her pert rump.



Caryn quieted as his fingertips stroked her body, beginning to warm her flesh. She could feel every inch of his skin against her back, and he burned feverishly hot against her. It occurred to her that her brother was quite mad; she wondered if Nathan knew how wild their brother’s mood swings could make him.



No, he could not, or he would not have left her with him. She shuddered as she thought of Aric as king, his word law.



Aric breathed heavily against her neck and ear. “Caaari,” he called again, breathily and mockingly. “I need to bury myself in you. How does Nate make you wet?”



Caryn fought the urge to tell him again that Nate had never touched her, knowing it would only infuriate him again. She had learned her lesson, and she wanted no more fits of fury from him. Instead, she conjured up the fantasy she had used when she touched herself in her own bed, the image of a lover moving slowly between her thighs. There was no escaping this night with Aric, no avoiding the fucking he was nearly shaking with the need to give her. It would be best, she knew, if she could find a way to enjoy it.



“He…he touches me,” Caryn began, closing her eyes. “He places his hands on my breasts and he squeezes them gently. He kisses my neck, and—” She gasped, for a moment losing her train of thought as Aric began to follow her instructions, grasping her breasts and pressing his lips lightly to the place where her pulse beat in her throat. “H-he kisses his way down my neck and farther until his lips are on my nipple. He flicks it with his tongue, and sucks.”



Never let it be said that Aric could not take direction. Obediently, he began to suck her breast, his fingers running up and down the outside of her thigh. Caryn shivered, and not in revulsion.



“Then he kisses a trail down my belly,” she whispered, pausing so that Aric could begin, “and when he reaches my lips, he kisses them as well.”



Aric carried out her whispered fantasy, until his tongue slid roughly between her lips and down her slit. She yelped as he tightened it and speared her with the slippery tip. She felt a warmth begin to slick between her lips that had nothing to do with Aric’s saliva. It seemed Caryn’s body was more forgiving of Aric’s recent roughness than she was.



Her brother savored the juices that began to seep from her sex; it tasted like surrender. He ran low on patience, and this wetness was consent enough for him.



Aric spread out so that his body hovered over his sister’s. There was a heat, a tension in the slim space of air between them that made him drip with anticipation. He pressed her thighs farther apart with his knees, lowering himself to her pussy. Caryn’s eyes were shut, her face scrunched in concentration. She was so lovely that way.



When he shoved into her, he knew he had not given her enough time to be saturated. The friction was still too great, and her cries were evidence that his penetration was not pleasurable, but he had already waited too long. She was his and he wanted her.



Something obstructed his entrance, and for a moment he was confused. He had truly believed that Nathan had broken her already, but it seemed his sister was honest after all. It pleased him immeasurably to know she had not lied to him, that he was the brother that would tear her open and make her a woman in every sense. He leaned into her, breaking through, and smiled as she shrieked in pain beneath him. Her eyes were pricked with tears. She was loveliest like this: crying, panting, broken.



“You are mine,” he whispered in her ear, forcing himself into her as deeply as he could go. “Your body, your virginity, your honor…they all belong to me. Tell me.” When she did not answer, he grabbed her by the hair and shook. “Tell me!”



“Yes,” she gasped, her eyes shutting tightly and her mouth opening wide as he pulled back and thrust into her again.



“No, tell me. Say it.”



“I am yours, my lord,” she panted. “My brother has claimed my maidenhood and made me his completely.”



“And are you glad? Does it bring you pleasure to know that you belong to your brother?”



Her eyes opened and narrowed at him. No, her face said. No no no no no.



“Yes, my lord,” she murmured dully. “I would give my body to you a thousand times over.”



“And you shall, Cari,” he promised her.



She eyed his knife where he had dropped it on the floor, and she made her own silent promise.



***



Caryn did not return to her own chambers until nearly noon the next day. Wrapped in Aric’s dressing gown, she plodded, limping and exhausted, into her bedroom and collapsed face down in her bed. Here in the safety of her room, she wanted to cry, but she had spent her tears.



“Long night?” Asked a male voice from the corner of her room, and Caryn gasped and jerked. She was sitting up against her headboard, curled into a ball before she realized who had spoken, and from where.



“Nate.” Her voice cracked on his name. He rose from where he had been sitting at her small breakfast table, moving to seat himself instead on the edge of her bed.



He reached out to tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear, but she flinched away from him, so he returned his hand to his lap and did not move toward her again. “How are you?” he asked in the same tone he used to calm a spooked horse.



She did not answer.



“I hope you’ll forgive the intrusion…I couldn’t sleep last night, and I thought I’d wait for you here.”



Caryn responded with a one-shouldered shrug that told him nothing.



“Cari, talk to me” he said, dragging her name out over several syllables. Her head jerked up and her eyes burned for a moment.



“Don’t call me that.”



That startled Nathan. He had called her Cari for as long as he could remember. It was his nickname for her, the one only he used. “Oh…okay. Are you angry with me?”



“No,” she said, shaking her head and sighing. Then, “Yes.”



“Yes? Why?”



She glared into the middle distance, refusing to look at him, and did not respond. Nathan wanted to touch her, but he had hated the way she jerked away from him.



“Caryn? Why are you angry?”



“What good are you?” she hissed at him suddenly.



“What?” Nathan reeled back as if slapped.



“What good are you to me? As a brother or a friend! First, you refuse me, then you give me the stupidest advice. ‘Don’t let him hurt you’? What good could that have done me?” Caryn was still not looking at him, spitting her words instead toward the wall.



“Did Aric hurt you?” Nate began to feel the cold roar of adrenaline in his blood. “Did he…”



“Did he what, Nathan? Go ahead, ask. The answer is yes, whatever it is.” Caryn levered herself up off the bed and turned back to her brother. “Would you like to see what he’s done to me? It’s not pretty. It might make you sick to your queasy little stomach; I know you have no stomach for this whole affair.” All the poison she could not unleash on Aric, Caryn poured out on Nathan. Nathan who had done nothing — nothing to hurt her, and nothing to help her either.



She dropped Aric’s robe from her shoulders. She was naked underneath, and the dark bruises were easily visible against her fair skin: the fist-sized purple bruise along her side from his boot, and the matching sets on her hips, her upper arms, and her inner thighs where Aric had dug his fingers in. The shallow red cut between her breasts was visible too, flaked with dried blood. The half-moons of bite marks decorated her neck and shoulders, her breasts, her thighs. Her wrists were circled in chafe marks from the rope that had bound her.



“Gods’ mercy,” Nathan whispered. “Gods’ mercy on me, I’ll kill him. I’ll cut his throat.” He lifted the robe back over her and wrapped her in it, hugging her to him. “I’m so sorry.”



For a moment, Caryn stiffened in his arms, wanting to escape, but he smelled just as he always had, and his arms around her were warm and comforting, and she collapsed against him, shaking with the force of the tears she thought she’d cried out. She clutched at him, the fabric of his shirt wadded in her fists.



Slowly he sat and lifted her onto his lap, one arm behind her back and the other under her legs, like she was a little girl again. He rested his cheek against the top of her head and tried to fight down that rage that boiled through him.



Caryn nuzzled against him, her face pressed to the skin just below his collarbone. His heart was pounding, the heat of it radiating out against her. She made herself unclench her fists, flattening her hands against his chest. She slid them up to his neck, wrapping her arms around him and tucking her head into the warm space between his neck and shoulder. Her tears were slowing; everything about him comforted her, relaxed her.



Her breath was hot against his neck. Nathan tried to think of anything but how warm and soft she was against him. This was not the time. Her lips were moving against his neck. At first he thought she was speaking quietly, but then he realized the sound coming from her was just a deep sigh, and her lips were pressing light, soft kisses along his skin. He cleared his throat and shifted, trying to move her back without noticeably pushing her away.



Instead, Caryn moved closer, drawing her inside leg toward her chest and turning deftly so that Nathan found himself quite suddenly straddled by his little sister. The dressing gown that had been simply draped over her was slipping to the floor, revealing her trim body. Nathan realized he was staring down at what he could see of her and averted his eyes. Silently, he mouthed a prayer to the gods for strength.

His sister hugged him more tightly around the neck, pressing the pillowy mounds of her breasts against his chest. Nathan knew that from where she sat, she could not help but notice he was a man who appreciated all the attention. His trousers were pulled painfully tight.



“Why wouldn’t you take me, Nate?” she murmured, still feathering those kisses from his shoulder to the skin behind his ear. Nathan closed his eyes and didn’t answer. “I thought it was because you didn’t want me, but…” She took one hand from around his neck and brushed it along the length of his erection. “…clearly that’s not the problem.”



“Stop it,” Nate said quietly.



“Stop what? Kissing you?” She nipped his earlobe, then sucked it into her mouth. Nathan’s breath caught in his throat. Her lips moved down along his jaw to his chin, and then she kissed him chastely on the lips. His eyes remained closed, so she kissed him again, this time opening her mouth and molding the shape of her lips to his.



Nathan pulled away. “Yes, kissing me. Please stop.”



“Why?” Caryn was incensed. “What is so wrong with me?”



“Nothing!” Nathan dumped his sister onto the bed, standing up to pace. “There is nothing wrong with you, Cari. Not a gods forsaken thing. You’re beautiful and charming and funny and sweet…”



“Then why—”



“Because I can’t handle it! Gods! I have watched you and I’ve dreamed about you and believe me, I’ve berated myself for it, but the truth is, I have fallen in love with you, Cari.” He sat down hard next to her, grey eyes dark. “I’m in love with you, and you’re leaving me. I am already losing my closest friend and the most perfect woman I have ever known. At best, I have you for a few more months, time I’m sharing with Aric and Etan. If I have you like I’ve dreamed about…” Nate took a deep, shuddering breath and grabbed his sister’s hands. “I will not be able to give you up.”



“That’s all?” Caryn murmured. “I know the solution.”



She leaned against him, putting her lips against his ear, and whispered, “Don’t give me up.”



Nathan grabbed her chin, anger rising in him. “What are you doing? You don’t want this, any of it. I saw you, yesterday. You were terrified, thinking I had come to take you right here on this bed. And then Aric—”



Caryn moved away from him. “I do want it. You.” She was pouting now, like a little girl.



“No, you don’t. What do you want?”



Silence reigned in the room for what seemed like hours. The princess’ face reeled through emotions, considering and discarding them one after another. Nathan was patient, watching her and holding her hands.



“I want you to…take care of me,” she said in a small voice. “Protect me.”



Nathan’s heart sank. He loved his sister, and more than anything he wanted to sweep her away from the castle, ride off into the sunset, make her his wife. He wanted her to be his alone, safe from lecherous brothers and a husband who might be worse. But none of that was in his power.



“I’ll do whatever I can,” Nate assured her. “Seducing me won’t make me any more able to order Aric away from you. He is answerable only to Father. He will be king.”



Nathan began rubbing his sister’s shoulders, gently easing the tension out of them. Her body was so tense.



“He made me beg for it, Nate,” she said quietly. “He tore my body open and he made me beg him to finish in me. I did it. I begged him for it so that it would be over. Only it wasn’t over. He made me lick him clean, suck off all of his sap and mine, and the blood… And when he was clean, he was hard again, and he told me he wasn’t going to leave any virgin holes for you to fill. He—he—”



“For me? Holes for me to fill? I said I wanted nothing to do with this.”



“He wouldn’t believe me that you weren’t…I mean, that we hadn’t…”



“He thought I was fucking the cradle, so to speak?” Nathan was angry again. Caryn pulled away from him. “Sorry. That was uncalled for. He…gods, I want him dead.”



“Shh, that’s treason,” Caryn whispered.



“Then I’m a traitor. Tell me the rest.”



“I don’t want to.”



“Why not?”



“You’re angry.”



“I’m furious. But go on.”



Caryn took a deep breath and plowed on. The words seemed to come easier now. “He kept calling me by your nickname, even after he knew we hadn’t been together. He had this awful fake voice on. He was singing it in my ear while he bent me over his bed and pulled my cheeks apart. He licked his finger, but it wasn’t enough, wasn’t nearly enough. I thought he must be tearing me when he pushed his finger in. I screamed at him, but he wouldn’t stop, and the more I screamed the worse it got. He told me it would be better if I asked him politely for what I wanted.”



“So I asked him to be gentle, to let me get him nice and wet first. I asked him if he would make it slicker. He slid his fingers along my slit and scooped up some of my juices. He’d gotten me wet down there…I kept trying to think of the best things I could imagine, the sexiest things, so I would stay wet. He used what was on his fingers and rubbed it up my other hole. Then he told me to lick him.”



“When there was spit running down his shaft, he put me back on my stomach, and he took me. I talked to him the whole time, told him how nice it was when he took me slow and sweet, how much I liked taking just a little of him at a time, and what a good brother he was, teaching me how to relax so I could let my husband take me however he wanted. I could tell a couple of times he wanted to just start sawing in and out of me, but I kept begging, quietly, and he listened.”



“Was any of it true, what you were saying? Did you like it?”



Caryn scratched her neck, uncomfortable. “Not… at first. It was horrible, the worst sort of pain I’ve ever felt. So…personal. I mean, he was invading me, taking his pleasure from my body despite me. It was…I don’t know. I don’t know. There was something good in it, somehow. I felt, like—” She cut herself off. “No, no, I didn’t like it.”



“Wait, tell me. You’ve always told me everything. Tell me this.”



“I liked…I liked how he was in control of me, a little bit. I liked that I wasn’t responsible for what I was doing. Like, it was dirty and awful and wrong that I was sprawled naked on my brother’s bed, and he was spreading my anus out, and pushing into my body. He was—gods, he was raping me, his fingers were digging into me so hard I bruised and he was tearing me with his thickness. I was bleeding. It was…so bad. But at the same time, I thought…”



Nathan growled, and Caryn turned to look at him, surprised. Her brother stopped touching her and lay down instead, rolling onto his stomach. “Sorry, this is becoming…a little much.”



“I thought about you, Nate,” Caryn continued. “I thought that if it were you behind me, and your erection stretching me that full, I would like it. I would mean the words.” She smirked. “Why are you laying on your stomach, brother?”



“You’re wicked,” Nathan said. “Just let me be for a minute. I was trying to be understanding.”



“And instead you’re being a lecherous older brother.”



“I know, I know, I’m sorry.” He winced, reached under himself, adjusted. “Please forgive me.”



“I forgive you,” she said, and her smile was villainous.



It was a startlingly different expression on her face from any he had seen before. His innocent little sister… “You’re doing it again, aren’t you?” he accused.



“What?”



“You’re trying to seduce me again. And…” Things began to fall into place for Nathan. “And you’re trying to make me angry, too. That’s why you’re telling me all this. You…you want me to hate him. You want me to kill Aric.”



“I never said that. That’s treason, brother.”



“But it’s what you want.”



Caryn lay down next to him, curling up against his body. She brought her lips to his and kissed him, a long, sweet kiss. “Yes,” she whispered when she broke away. “It’s what I want.”



***



By the time Etan knocked politely on Caryn’s door, she was bathed and dressed in a long-sleeved, high-necked gown that covered the marks Aric had made on her. Nathan had returned to his own quarters to think over the things she had said to him.



“Hello, brother,” Caryn said, waving Etan into the room.



He nodded and stared around the room at nearly everything but her. At length, he cleared his throat and met her eyes.



“I thought we might have a late lunch on the lawn. It’s a lovely day.” Etan did not speak often, and his deep voice was gravelly with lack of use. He was the largest of her brothers, bulkily muscled and tall. His large hands could encircle her waist completely.



Caryn was surprised by his initiative. It was not often that he made plans on his own, but then, it was possible that this had been Aric’s idea.



“That would be fine,” she said blandly, giving him a small smile. She took his offered arm, taking two steps for every one of his long-legged strides.



The lawn stretch out behind the castle for a couple of acres before it melted into forest. It was lovely, with the sun out and burning away at the coldness of the air. Still, Caryn was grateful for her long sleeves in the early spring afternoon. Etan saw her shiver and draped his arm around her shoulder.



There was already a blanket laid out on the far side of the lawn, near the trees. A basket of food and wine held down one corner while the breeze made a tangle of the rest.



“You do like roasted chicken?” Etan asked her, his voice barely more than a dull rumble.



“I love it.”



“Spiced wine?”



“Yes, please.”



Throughout the lunch, Caryn’s mind raced, trying to find the angle Etan was taking here. Was this Aric’s plan, and after lunch he have Etan dragging her into the trees behind them after dessert? Or was Etan the only mind at work here? She admitted to herself, she did not know Etan well enough to know if he was cruel on his own, when he was not being Aric’s puppet.



She felt it was best to face the question head on. “So what are your intentions for the day, Etan?”



Etan delayed answering by wiping his mouth gingerly with his napkin. Idly, he scratched the back of his neck. “I hoped to talk to you a bit at lunch, learn more about you. We don’t really know each other, do we?”



“No, I suppose not.”



Her middle brother nodded and said, “It seemed strange to call a stranger to my bed, even if she is my sister and my responsibility.”



“Aric had no problem with it.”



Etan met his sister’s eyes squarely. “I am not Aric.” He turned his head, looking into the trees, and spoke with a sigh. “Nor am I Nathan. Don’t expect either.”



“Then tell me about you, Etan. I admit, the things I’ve heard about you…they are intimidating.”



“What have you heard?”



“That your appetites are more voracious than Aric’s, and nearly as cruel. That you’re rough enough to have forcibly retired whores,” she said. “The stories that come back to me…”



Etan laughed, a boomingly pleasant sound that Caryn was not sure she had ever heard before. “They are not true, princess. Although I beg you, keep that to yourself.”



“Why? You enjoy being considered a brute?”



The prince shrugged. “Not particularly, but if the truth came back to Aric, he’d make my life hell.”



“Then what is the truth?”



Etan lay back on his elbows, contemplating her with a small, amused smile. “I don’t know that you’re ready for the truth, sister. For now, you can go on hating me nearly as much as you hate Aric, if you’d like.”



“I don’t hate you,” Caryn mumbled.



Etan laughed again. “Just don’t try to sell me that same line about Aric. I know hate when I see it. Come here, pet.” He patted the blanket next to him. “Sit next to me. I doubt it will be any easier to accept my ‘teachings’ if I have never touched you at all.”



When Caryn sat beside him, he levered himself onto his side, lounging on one elbow. With his free hand, he ran his fingers gently through her hair and lightly traced the shape of her shoulder and arm. After a few moments, Etan sat up, crossing his legs with some difficulty, and turned his sister so that her back was to him. He rubbed her back with soft strokes, mindful that he could crush her tiny shoulders and ribs with his gigantic hands quite by accident. It was not long before Caryn was relaxing under his hands’ ministrations. This was not the Etan she had expected.



She glanced over her shoulder at him and was surprised to see his eyes squeezed shut, his face troubled. He seemed far away, lost in another moment of his own imagining. She reached back and brushed her fingers along one forearm, and the corner of his mouth tweaked up into a half smile.



Caryn leaned back into him, and his hands slid around her shoulders, slipping down the front of her body. When his fingers encountered her breasts, though, he jerked back, and he sighed, the spell apparently broken. They stayed that way for several quiet minutes, the princess leaning back against the chest of her middle brother, his arms resting at his sides, both lost in thought.



“Who were you thinking about?” Caryn asked at last. Etan seemed troubled, and did not answer.



Instead, her brother began to gather the remnants of their lunch, stacking it back in the basket. He stood and offered his hand to Caryn, pulling her to her feet as well and folding the blanket over his arm.



“Shall we get back?” he asked.



Caryn was puzzled. While she had heard many rumors of her brother taking women to his bed, she had never heard of a woman returning more than once. Could it be that her brother was in love with a woman Aric would not have approved of, and the other girls were a screen? Why then had he acted as though her breasts had bitten him? A thought began to form in her head.



Etan led her back to her room somewhat hastily. “Would you prefer to join me in my chambers this evening, or shall I come to you here?”



“I will come to your rooms, Etan,” she said. He nodded and started back to his own rooms, and Caryn followed. “But why wait until this evening? I have had a lovely afternoon with you already. I would love for it to continue.”



Etan was visibly uncomfortable. “I’m glad you have enjoyed my company, but I have other matters to attend to before I can continue our…association.”



“Are they secret matters?”



“Uh…no.”



“Then why should my presence deter you? Come, let me accompany you.” She began to lead the way back to his chambers. If she was right…



With obvious reluctance, Etan walked with her, then opened his door — he let his held breath out in a sigh when a glance around the room showed it empty. It was not lost on his sister.



He spoke again, evidently relieved, as he sat down on the bed. “I think you will be bored here with me, sister. I’ll just be dealing with a few matters of state too small for Father or Aric. You know if they pass to the second son, they’re of no real interest to anyone.”



“Then they can wait.” Caryn sat down across his thighs. “You heard Aric; my education is to be first priority.” She began working to remove his shirt. Etan was so still, he might have been frozen. She knew she would not be able to pull his shirt off without his help, so her fingers went instead to the laces of his trousers.



“Ah!” he said, raising his hands as if to stop her. “Are you sure you have nothing you would prefer to be doing, Caryn?”



She shook her head and clambered off his lap, gesturing for him to help her undress them both. Etan’s obvious discomfiture was proof of what she had begun to more than suspect. If he had been with as many women as the rumor mill would tally, this should have been no problem at all, sister or not.



With much effort on her part and minimal assistance from her brother, Caryn succeeded in stripping both of them naked, and they stood staring at each other. The princess could not help but notice that her brother was all hard planes and firm muscle…with the notable exception of the appendage that hung unenthusiastically between his legs. His perusal of her body had no effect.



“Your ribs — Aric?” he asked. When she nodded, he reached out and brushed his fingertips over the bruise lightly. “I’m sorry. He can be a beast. He’s never learned that being large gives you a responsibility to be gentle with people smaller than you.”



“Are you gentle with the people you’re with?” Caryn asked quietly, carefully echoing his wording.



“Of course.” Etan put his hands on either side of her waist, drawing her closer to him. He seemed to think for a moment, then turned her so that her back was to him and pulled her against him. His hands pressed against her stomach. His penis still lay slack against her.



“You don’t want me, Etan?”



“I…”



The door to Etan’s rooms opened, and a young serving man entered, talking quickly and ripping at the laces on his breeches. “We only have a few minutes, Etan. I’ll be missed in th—”



The slender young man finally looked at the nude pair standing in front of the bed, and understood that in front of Etan was his tiny sister, pressed against his hips, her hair swinging down to cover her naked breasts. “Oh, gods, I didn’t realize you…” Terror flitted over the young man’s face and he stumbled backward to the door, fumbling behind his back for the knob before he could let himself out and run down the hall to wherever he had come from.



Caryn had been surprised when the door opened, but not so shocked that she could fail to notice the hardening of the staff pressed against her rear as the young servant entered and began to undress.



“Oh, Etan,” she sighed.



The prince released her and sank down onto the bed, covering his face with one hand. With the other, he seized a pillow and dragged it into his lap to cover his telling erection. Caryn was confirmed in her suspicions. Clearly, her brother had been paying off a lot of young women and prostitutes.



“Well, now you know,” Etan said hoarsely. “Gods, this whole thing is such a mess.”



“This is what you’ve been hiding from Aric? Why you do whatever he tells you to do and pretend to go through whores like butter?” Etan nodded. “Why?”



“Why? As long as I’m doing what he demands, he ignores me. I don’t want him looking too closely at what I’m doing — or who. The last thing I need is for my brother to spread it around that I’m…unnatural.”



At this, Caryn smacked his arm away from his face, forcing him to look at her. “You are not unnatural, brother. Look at me! You want to talk about unnatural? Aric, my eldest brother, the second most powerful man in Perchhold, who should be my greatest protector? He raped me. His own sister. That’s unnatural. And Nathan, who should be doing his duty and then sending me along to my husband? He wants nothing to do with teaching me, because he wants to make me his wife, and keep me forever. That is unnatural. You are not unnatural.”



Etan gave her a half smile, not quite believing her, and she sat down beside him. “Etan, I would never tell your secret to a soul, if you prefer. You may be able to help me, though, with a plan I’m just beginning to make.”



“A plan for what?”



“For getting out of this castle, out from under Aric’s thumb and away from whichever suitor he and Father have chosen for me.”



Etan looked her over for a moment before saying in a deceptively bland voice, “Escaping with Nathan, perhaps?”



Caryn blushed, and nodded. “Yes. You see, I’m unnatural too. I’ve fallen in love with my brother.”



“That’s dangerous, Caryn. Aric…I’m not meant to tell you this, but Aric and Father have been talking. Father wants to marry you to Lord Micravale from the passes. He has the largest army of the northern lords, which would be securely tied to the crown by the marriage.”



“Gods! Micravale? He must be at least eighty years old!” Caryn’s stomach turned at the thought of consummating a marriage with the hairless old man she had seen at her father’s councils.



“Yes. His son died of a hacking cough two years past and he’s without an heir. So you see…there’s a great deal tied up in your remaining here, to be married as the crown wishes you to be. What you’re planning is treason. If you are caught, or if any whisper of your plan gets back to Aric, Nathan is likely to be killed.”

Her stomach was cold lead. “Killed?”



Etan lay his palm over her white-knuckled hands. “You can trust me, Caryn. How can I help you?”



“Well, Aric is expecting you to sleep with me, yes? Probably to spend the majority of the evening with me and into the morning. He would not expect that I might be, say, a day’s hard ride away by the time you awaken and discover that I slipped out while you slept…”



“Aric is not a fool, Caryn. He will be keeping a close eye on you.”



“Yes, I know. But I have a plan. You may not have heard, but there was a serving boy, very close to my age, who was caught sneaking into your chambers in the dark of night. As he was unable to provide any explanation, he was assumed to have been spying at best, possibly sent to assassinate you at worst. He was thrown out of the castle.” Caryn’s eyes were sparkling as she spoke, seeing the story now in a completely different light.



Etan grip on her hand tightened fiercely. “You’ve seen Leif?”



Caryn grinned. “I took pity on the boy as he was being taken out, and told the guards to release him to me. He was so distressed — he confessed to me that he fell in love with you after months of cleaning your chambers and watching you from a distance, and he had been desperate to be near you. He said nothing of your own preferences; very loyal of him. He has been working in my chambers in the disguise of a maid under the name of Lisel for the past two weeks.”



To the princess’ immense surprise, there were tears in Etan’s eyes. “I was afraid he’d been killed. I couldn’t ask too many questions about him without seeming…overly concerned. But he’s alright? He wasn’t hurt?”



“He’s fine. He’s a very pretty young man…a believable girl, in fact. He’s roughly my size, particularly if he were to stuff his chest a bit, and in his current disguise, his hair looks very similar to mine. In fact, it is mine. I had my hair cut for his wig.”



“You want to make a trade? Leif for you?”



Caryn nodded. “A small young woman with brown hair in one of my gowns — naturally, she is assumed to be your sister — is seen coming into your chambers, and a night of raucous lovemaking ensues. When, at length, you collapse into sleep, a serving boy exits, clearly having been summoned to clean up after you and your sister. In the morning, you’ll discover that the princess has disappeared, and raise the alarm.”



“Aric will be angry.”



“Yes, but what can he do? You have spent years cultivating the impression in his mind that you are his large and stupid younger brother. You have done what he wished, introducing your sister to base pleasures, and you cannot be blamed if I have slipped away from you in the night with your youngest brother. Nathan has always been willful and tricksy, after all.”



Etan stared at her for a long moment before planting a kiss on her forehead. “Did you just come up with this?”



“I had been searching for a way to actually slip away from you tonight. Once I discovered your inclination toward men…everything became much simpler.”



Etan laughed. “Your definition of simple must be very strange, sister.”



***



“Lisel” was pleased with the plan, especially once it was decided that Etan would encounter the serving woman during the great search for Caryn and covet her, taking her for his own. Leif would not be forced to leave the castle again.



Nathan was more difficult to convince, even after Caryn laid the entire plan before him, leaving out only Lisel’s true identity and what it meant about their brother.



“There’s no way we can take that kind of risk, Caryn,” Nathan said. He was seated on her bed, listening impatiently as she stood in front of him. “Do you have any idea what they will do to you if we’re caught?”



“No. Do you?”



“No! That’s just the point. There’s too much uncertainty in this. A thousand and one things could go wrong.”



“Or it could all go right, Nate. And we could live the rest of our lives as husband and wife, just as close as we have been all our lives until now. I don’t know what will happen if we try and fail, but I do know what will happen if we succeed. And if we don’t try at all…I’ve got an old man to look forward to.”



Nathan flinched, but his face said he remained unconvinced. “What if I lose you?”



“If you do nothing, I am already lost to you,” Caryn said coldly. She let the chill settle into him for a moment, then knelt in front of him, hands on his knees, looking up into his face. “I want to be with you forever, Nate. I want to fall asleep next to you and wake up in your arms every day. Don’t you want that?”



He did want that. She could see it in his face, in the way his breaths were coming a little faster, a little closer together. This idea excited him, she could see that, and awakened a hope in him that he had probably been trying to kill for years.



“It’s a good plan,” Caryn said. She raised herself up, put her face within an inch of his. “It will work.” She kissed him lightly, just a taste, to see if he would follow her lead.



With both hands, he grasped her face and deepened the kiss, his lips parting and his tongue parting hers. She could feel him start to tremble as he began to accept that everything he had wanted could be his. All he had to do was steal away with her in the dead of night, and he would have her for the rest of his days.



“Okay,” he gasped. “We’ll go. Tonight.”



***



Aric sat in his father’s private audience chamber, hiding the trembling of his hands by clenching his fingers around a goblet of spiced wine.



“The ball went well. The bids for her hand have never been higher,” King Darin said. He scratched at his beard as he paced the room. “Micravale was practically drooling on himself when he saw her last night. I trust you’ve started her preparations?”



“Of course, Father. Etan is with her tonight.”



Darin nodded. “Very good. And Nathan tomorrow?”



“Nathan has declined to take part.”



The king swung around in surprise, brow furrowed. “Declined? He is her brother. Let him know I will leave no one room to say she was not thoroughly trained as a wife. She is a princess of Perchhold, and I will have her educated properly. Gods, would he have her bedded once and turned over like a common farm wife? She’ll be a duchess!”



“…Or a queen,” Aric said quietly.



Darin’s frown deepened. “A queen? Hardly. The only king this side of the mountains is Carrigan, and gods know I don’t need any alliance with him. He doesn’t have enough men to guard his own palace doors, much less mount an attack.”



“My mind was turned a bit closer to home, Father,” Aric said smoothly, despite the nervous tightening of his chest. This was it. If he could get his father to agree, to put the orders in motion now…



“What do you mean? Speak clearly, boy.”



“Father, I wish to take Caryn as my wife when Micravale dies. All the power of his house and the lords sworn to him will be mine, and our line will be purer, stronger than ever.”



Darin blinked and frowned, turned away from his son and poured himself a cup of wine. He threw it back in a single mouthful, wiped his mouth, and sat heavily in his heavy wooden chair. He fixed his eyes on Aric, lips pursed as he considered his eldest son’s request.



The boy had made his argument as if his choice were purely political, but Darin could hear the desire in his son’s voice. The king remembered deflowering his own two sisters on their eighteenth name days, and the strange pleasure it had been to release his seed into a woman of his own blood. But his sisters had been married to young lordlings far from the castle, had been gifted with many children by their husbands and had never returned to tempt him. Neither of them had been married to an old man, powerful in name and title but feeble of body and mind. Neither of them had had Caryn’s likelihood of being a widow within their first year of marriage.



“You want me to change the laws regarding the marriage of a brother and sister. To clear the way for you.” Darin poured another cup of wine and swigged it. “You desire her. Is that why you supported me in courting Micravale?”



“Micravale was the clear choice for his assets,” Aric said. “Although, I must admit that his failing health gave me the idea. And once I had…”



“Once you’d taken her, you were caught, yes? That’s the way with women.”



Aric frowned. It hadn’t been the way with the women before Caryn. They were largely transferable, one as satisfying as the next; but Caryn had been something else entirely. It was the contrasts in her: her mouth said the most delightfully nasty things, surrendered to him, begged for more, while her eyes and her body warred against him. It drove him wild. Thinking about it now, in this room with his father, he grew excited.



“Do I have your blessing then, Father? Will you help me?”



Darin drained the last dregs of wine from his goblet and sighed. “Caryn will be yours.”



***



Leif forced himself to walk slowly as he made his way down the hall, his head bent so that the wig’s long locks of dark hair swung in front of his face. He would have preferred not to have to dress as a woman day in and day out, but if it kept him in the castle and within reach of Etan, he could put up with it.



He paused and adjusted the front of his dress, and tried to discreetly keep the wadded fabric that made his “breasts” from flattening and slipping down his torso. When he resumed walking, he reminded himself again that he as a princess, and should be walking with Caryn’s confident, swaying stride. He tried to force his hips side to side.



The relief of finally reaching Etan’s door was great, and he relaxed as he knocked.



“Caryn, come in,” Etan called as he opened the door. His voice carried through the hall behind Leif, letting the lingering servants in the hallway know that the princess had presented herself for her brother’s pleasure, if any were waiting to report to Aric.



When the door shut behind them and they were alone in the room, Leif and Etan just stared at each other for a moment.



“I was afraid you’d been…” Etan trailed off, eyes running over Leif.



The serving boy pushed the wig back off his head, revealing his own straight, nut-brown hair. “Your sister is a saint.”



Etan nodded. “Was it alright? Working in her chambers?”



With a shrug, Leif grinned and began to pull off the dainty satin slippers Caryn had given him to match the dress. “She treated me well. Your brother would have killed to see her naked as many times as I did.” He laughed, a sweet sound, like a bell.



“Which one?”



Leif laughed again. “Either, I guess. Help me with these laces. I pity women for having to wear these things. They’re regular torture.”



He turned around and Etan began to fumble with the fine corset laces. His fingers were too large and blunt to be of much use, but between the two of them, the dress came off, and beneath it was only Leif’s smallclothes and pale, smooth skin.



Etan cleared his throat. “I — ahem — I had forgotten how nice you were to look at.”



Leif lay his hands against the prince’s chest. “I didn’t forget you. Not for a second.” He stepped forward and leaned against the taller man, his head on Etan’s shoulder. “I missed you.”



The prince sighed as if all the weariness in the world were draining out of him. He sank down onto the mattress, bringing Leif down with him. With a tenderness that seemed out of place in a man Etan’s size, the prince pressed his lips to Leif’s.



They kissed like the first moments of a summer rain, like a flower bud opening, like the first tendrils of dawn. Then Leif’s lips parted and Etan pulled him tighter against him with a hand on each side of his face, and everything became motion and fury and passion and wet, sucking moans.



On the other side of the door, Aric leaned against the wall in the corridor and contemplated bursting in to tell Caryn the good news that she would be his for the rest of her life. But he could hear Etan inside, sounding more frantic than Aric had ever heard him, and he thought it cruel to delay his brother’s pleasure. He so rarely seemed to truly enjoy the women that came around.



There was one pleasure Aric could take in his moment of triumph. He could tell Nathan the fate of their baby sister, and watch the boy try to shrug off losing her to his eldest brother forever. It was bound to be a satisfying moment. Whistling, he set off for Nathan’s chambers.



***



Nate had thought himself packed, but when Caryn saw the small rucksack and meager allocation of clothing he had bundled in, she was ripping through his chest of drawers, tossing garment after garment at him and bidding him to pack those as well.



“Cari, every shirt you add makes it that much harder for us to slip out of here unseen. You’re wasting time! We need to me running! Lisel has already gone to Etan’s…we only have a few hours head start as it is.”



“Give me one more minute. You’re going to need more smallclothes than that. We won’t have maids washing them for us on the road.”



“No, and I can’t see us needing feast day clothes on the road either,” he said, pulling out the silk shirt she had stuffed into the mouth of his pack. “If this doesn’t mark us as an escaped prince and princess, I don’t know what will. We need plain clothes.”



“We’ll get those on the road. What if we need things to trade? How much gold do you have on you?”



“Whatever’s in my purse. Enough for the journey, at least.”



Caryn was digging through his shoes and didn’t appear to have heard him. Nate gently took her by the arm and pulled her up to face him. “Cari, let’s go. It’s time.” She was shaking beneath his fingers, her skin pale and eyes wide. “Are you afraid? This is your plan. You assured me it was flawless.”



“It was! I mean, it is. You’re right, we have to go.” She scrubbed a hand through her hair, forgetting about the wool scarf that she had worn to cover it and knocking it askew. Nathan pulled it straight and tucked the loose strands of hair back into place. He took her hand and squeezed it firmly, then picked up his sack and hers.



They were two steps from the door when someone knocked on it. Both froze, but Nate recovered first and shoved Caryn toward the wardrobe, dropping the sacks onto the floor. “Hide!” he hissed quietly.



Another knock on the door, and then the impatient visitor opened it, just as Caryn stuffed herself into the wardrobe and pulled the doors shut.



“Aric!” Nathan said, too loudly. “What a surprise. Didn’t expect to see you in my chambers this evening. Don’t you have state business, or a lady to terrorize, or something?”



Aric smiled unkindly. “What a sweet brother, so concerned about my responsibilities. No wonder Caryn’s so taken with you.” Nathan coughed, having no other response to that.



The eldest prince continued, “I came to tell you the good news. Caryn is to be married!”



“Of course she is. Isn’t that what this whole mess is about? It’s to be Lord Micravale, isn’t it?”



Aric raised his eyebrows and walked a little further into the room, sweeping his eyes over the mess the Caryn had made ripping through his clothes. “No one escapes the rumor mill, I suppose. Gods, brother, don’t you have maids? This place looks like the kennel.”



Nathan shrugged uncomfortably. “Is that all you came to say?”



“No, actually,” Aric said, his lip curling as he turned his attention away from the piles of clutter. “As I’m sure you know, Micravale is a very old man, and his health is hardly what it used to be. No doubt he’ll die soon, and leave our Caryn a cold and lonely widow.”



“Why brother, you sound positively gleeful,” Nathan spat.



Aric’s eyes glittered coldly. “Caryn the widow is free to marry again, bringing the power of Micravale’s holdings to her new husband. And who better to hold that power than the king of Perchhold?”



Nathan blanched. “Father’s going to marry Caryn?”



“Gods, no! Nathan, you’re an idiot. Caryn’s going to marry me.”



“You? No! There are laws against that! To protect the sisters, so their brothers do their duty and then send them on. To their husbands!”



“She’ll have gone to her husband. And come back. To me.” The smugness in Aric’s tone was echoed on his face, in his smile. “Father’s already agreed to overturn those old laws. Caryn’s mine.”



Nathan shook himself. Caryn would not be Aric’s. She was his. If he could get Aric out of here, they would be running together tonight, free from their brother. The thought made him smirk. “Are you done? Because I’ve got things to do this evening.”



Aric’s own grin shriveled a bit at his brother’s apparent calm. He marshaled for a second attack. “You know, I’m glad you didn’t want to do your duty to our sister. She’s coming along so nicely under Etan and me, begging for us to cream in every hole. With your lack of enthusiasm, you might ruin a perfectly good slut.”



Nathan’s clenched fists shook with the effort of remaining at his sides, but he controlled the urge to crush Aric’s face, reminding himself that in a few hours they would be miles away. “What better way for brothers to occupy their time than to beat and rape defenseless little sisters?” He fought to keep his voice mild. “Good night, Aric.”



“Rape? Who said anything about rape? Caryn got on her knees and begged me to spread her, and hammer her, and flood her. Did she tell you how wet she was? How the more I hurt her, the wetter she got? She loved every minute of it, Nathan. Some girls want a strong man to take them over and use them. But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”



“Get out!” He shoved his brother hard in the chest, forcing him backward unthinkingly. If he had stopped to consider, he would have remembered that he had dropped the bags in the middle of the room, and that Aric stood in front of them. But he could not think that far ahead in his anger, and Aric stumbled over the bags, tumbling the contents across the floor.



There was a moment of tense silence as Aric bent to pick up the corset that had fallen at his feet.



At last he asked, “Going somewhere, brother?” His voice was no louder than a whisper. “But with whom?”



“A—a trip. Just a few days in the country,” Nathan said. He could barely speak through the tightness of his throat.



Aric reached into Caryn’s bag and pulled out a gown, beautifully embroidered, dotted with seed pearls. She had worn it to the feast their father held in honor of the new year, a feast which all three brothers had attended. Recognition registered on Aric’s face.



Dropping the gown, he seized Nathan by the throat and shoved him backward against the wall. “What are you planning?” he seethed. When Nate did not respond, he tightened his fingers, squeezing until Nathan’s face began to darken to a deep plum. The younger brother kicked and scrambled at Aric, but Aric seemed to take no notice. “Does Caryn know that you’re trying to steal her away? That’s my future wife you’re plotting with, little brother.”



Nathan’s mouth opened and closed desperately, and his eyes bulged from their sockets. With disgust, Aric dropped him in a heap on the floor, watching him gasp and cough as one would watch a dying rodent. “You’re too stupid to be planning this on your own,” he spat. “Let’s see how Caryn answers for herself.”



He seized his little brother beneath the jaw and began to drag him backward to the hallway. They were not far from Etan’s rooms, where Caryn was presumably being ravished at that moment. But Nate knew they would find no princess in that room, and that Etan and the poor maid would be held just as responsible for their attempted escape as he and Caryn if they were discovered.



“It was me, Aric,” he gasped desperately, struggling to free himself from Aric’s grip and get to his feet. “I planned to kidnap her. She doesn’t deserve to be at your mercy. I was going to take her to the woods, keep her away from you until we were forgotten about.”

All characters are 18 years of age or older



*



Lawrence was beside himself with worry. He watched Elisabeth displayed on the large screen and felt nauseated by his shameful betrayal. She would never understand. He had demanded that Randy return the thumb drive and the photos but his boss had laughed at him. In desperation the young husband threatened to tell his wife everything. Randy had invited him to do just that pointing out that the email with her photos had come from Lawrence’s own desk to Randy’s and the collection of her purloined underwear in his desk drawer had all been provided by Lawrence himself.



“But this … this, this is like pornography…” he pleaded. “She looks like a total slut on that tape.”



“Yeah she does, but don’t tell me you didn’t like it,” Randy chided. “You knew the tape was rolling and you didn’t have any trouble shucking and fucking the little cunt.”



Lawrence winced at Randy’s description of his unsuspecting wife, but he knew it was true. Making her perform that way and knowing someone else was seeing her doing it was exciting for him in a most shameful way. Even the thought of the humiliation she would feel if she ever knew turned him on. But deep down he feared the consequences of losing her and knew he had to put a stop to his boss’s ever increasing demands. He tried to sound decisive and uncompromising.



“It has to be over now. I can’t do anything else,” he whined waving his hands. “What else could you possibly want? I’ve done everything you’ve asked!”



Randy smirked. He froze the frame on screen as Elisabeth orgasmed the first time.



“I want some of that,” he stated emphatically. “I want the little cunt wrapped around my cock.”



“That’s impossible!” spat Lawrence. “You’re crazy.”



Randy looked at the shaken husband and dramatically shook two white tablets onto his desk blotter. “Not impossible at all,” he grinned.



___________________



Lawrence watched his wife towel dry her long hair. Her breasts shook with the vigorous rub and he marveled at the guileless innocence of his wife’s naked body. Her nipples danced invitingly on quivering globes and then disappeared behind the curtain of damp hair as she leaned forward and shook her tresses out. She looked the picture of innocence, not the horny little cunt that his boss had called her.



The recollection made Lawrence look guiltily toward the clock radio that had allowed Randy access to their most intimate moments. He swallowed hard as he thought of how mortified Elisabeth would be if she knew anyone else but her husband had witnessed her private performance. The thought stirred his cock.



The hairdryer fluffed her dark raven mane as she tamed it with the circular brush, coaxing soft waves to frame her pretty face. She paused for a minute to lower her arms and take a long pull from the steaming cup of herbal tea he’d brought her.



“It must be my taste buds,” she called out over the noise of the hair dryer, “it tastes a bit off. Maybe it’s been in the cupboard too long.”



For a moment Lawrence was afraid she wasn’t going to finish it. But with a shrug, she drained the china cup pursing her lips at the odd taste. A few more practiced passes with the brush and her hair fell softly over her shoulders. He watched her bend down to let her breasts seat in the satin cups of her bra then reach behind to fasten the little hooks. She rummaged in her underwear drawer for the matching panties and then muttered when she couldn’t find them. A pang shot through Lawrence’s gut as he pictured Randy pawing them and lewdly sniffing the crotch the day after she’d worn them last. The man hadn’t even the decency to put them away when Shelley brought them coffee.



Lawrence knew the secretary had seen them and she’d doubtless noted the deep red flush that had taken over his face as well. “Just go. Just go!” he was thinking, hoping she’d leave quickly. But she didn’t. She hovered around exchanging knowing glances with Randy and maintaining a cheerful smirk that had Lawrence shifting uncomfortably until the door finally closed behind her.



“Does she know anything?” Lawrence had hissed in frustration.



“Would you like her to?” Randy chortled when Lawrence glared out the window, too uptight to even respond. If Shelley did know what was going on there was no guarantee that Randy hadn’t told others as well.



Elisabeth’s voice dragged his thoughts back to the bedroom where she continued dressing. “Do I look okay?” she asked.



“Beautiful,” he muttered, scarcely wanting to acknowledge how good she really did look. Lawrence’s guilt peaked once again on the knowledge that it was Randy she was unknowingly preparing herself to meet.



She seemed a little wobbly as she put a hand on the wall to slip into her high heels. Lawrence could see that her pupils had begun to dilate.



“That tea…” she giggled and took his arm unsteadily as he led her out the door.



By the time they reached the hotel, she was noticeably mellow. Her cheeks had an unnatural flush and her movements were languid. The ingrained modesty that would have kept her knees pressed tightly together as she exited the car had left her and she gave the parking valet an unobstructed view up her dress as she slid out.



The maître de was expecting them and he led them through the crowded lounge to Randy’s table. Randy’s – and Robert Valdez’ and Ted Rolling’s table!



Lawrence was stunned to see two of his work rivals sitting alongside his boss and smiling smugly as he and Elisabeth approached the table. He looked hard and questioningly at Randy and the man’s gloating, self-satisfied grin sent a chill through his gut.



Elisabeth was leaning against her husband, tucked in the security of his long arm, uneasy in the company of the other men without really knowing why. She appeared to be a little bit drunk but Lawrence knew it was entirely the pills he’d crushed into her herbal tea. She’d had no alcohol as yet, but it would take very little drink to turn her from mellow to jello.



Randy was on his feet holding the chair next to him motioning for her to sit down. Lawrence reluctantly surrendered her hand. He sat away from her in the only other chair available. Randy solicitously helped her slide in close to the table and she seemed oblivious to the man’s hands lingering possessively on her bare shoulders. The young husband’s uneasiness grew when he caught the disquieting wink his boss exchanged with the other two men. It was clear that something was afoot between the three of them.



Lawrence hoped that it was mere coincidence that the two assholes he trusted least just happened to be here at the same time in the same hotel lounge, but the likelihood seemed remote. He looked across at Elisabeth trying to catch her eye but his lovely wife was turned toward Randy listening to his bullshit. She didn’t see Ted Rollings trade the nearly empty glass in front of her for a full one. Nor did she catch Randy’s conspiratorial nod. They were all in on it. He was sure now.



Elisabeth’s second drink was hardly finished when Randy proposed a toast and handed her a glass of white wine. Her husband could see that she was already struggling to focus and expected the plan was to get her totally shit-faced. Her pupils were already fully dilated and Lawrence suspected there was more than wine in the glass she was given. It took her a long time to answer even the simplest question and her voice seemed strained, her words slurred.



He watched Randy take more and more liberties, trailing his hand across her back, letting it fall onto her thigh to play with the growing expanse of leg that was showing. Lawrence could feel the other two watching him to see if he’d react. It was humiliating for him to sit by and say nothing while Randy played the role so obnoxiously.



The hem of Elisabeth’s dress had migrated above her stocking tops and Randy trailed his finger across the bare skin that was showing. “Don’t you to wear a garter belt with those?” he asked her facetiously. Elisabeth looked down at her own lap as if trying to comprehend what she was showing. She made a half-hearted attempt to cover herself and mumbled “They’re thigh highs. They stay up themselves.”



“What about your panties?” he asked. “Do they stay up too or do they come down easily?”



Elisabeth looked bewildered by the question but Randy got the laugh he wanted from Ted and Robert.



“Well?” he pressed as if the question had been serious. “Tell us about your panties Elisabeth. Do you ever take them off for Lawrence’s friends?”



She looked toward her husband, her eyes pleading for his support. Lawrence could tell that his wife wasn’t comprehending. She knew it wasn’t right to be talking this way but her thoughts were plodding and confused. Randy’s voice seemed hollow and disconnected from his grinning face. In her struggle to focus on what he was saying the rest of the dining room shrunk to a microcosm and she was only vaguely aware of other people.



Randy was easing her dress up as far as it would go and Elisabeth seemed unable to gather her thoughts to stop his progress. “Oh, oh, oohhh! Look at those,” he clucked lifting her dress to show her panties to the other two grinning men while she clung to his wrist in dazed disorientation. Robert quietly fished an ice cube from his glass and dropped it on the bare skin above her stockings. She squealed in surprise and unthinkingly spread her legs to retrieve the melting ice. Randy’s hand had cupped her sex before her sluggish thinking could object. Her panties were already damp from the attention he’d been paying to her thighs and he easily pressed the moist fabric into a noticeable camel toe.



Elisabeth moaned in either protest or pleasure but Randy’s sure fingers found her clitoris and the pleasurable distraction stilled any delayed objection from her muddled brain. For the moment, the pleasure center overruled her rationale thought and Lawrence was astonished to see her legs open wider on their own. The silky crotch of her peach-colored panties darkened quickly as her sex responded with an abundance of lubrication. She was holding Randy’s wrist with both hands now but not to push him away. Clearly the pleasurable sensations overwhelmed any lingering need for modesty.



Lawrence had never seen her respond with such abandon or get hot so very quickly. His surprise was answered when Randy turned to the other two and grinned broadly. “That stuff in the wine really worked. She’s as hot as a firecracker. She’ll do anything we want.” His hand worked steadily between her legs rolling her clit between his fingers and making her pant with arousal. Her panties were soon soaked through and wet enough that his teasing and touching made squishy noises as he played in her private place. With a knowing wink at Robert and Ted he asked her to take her panties off.



As confused as she was, she still had enough common sense to show some reluctance. A second request brought a moan of uncertainty from her, not a refusal, but a bewildered plea for the last shred of her modesty.



“Can’t you feel that they’re wet Elisabeth?” he badgered, knowing she wasn’t able to connect the dots in her mind. “You shouldn’t sit there in wet panties,” he admonished, pushing the hem of her dress up higher onto her tanned belly. “Just take them off while nobody’s looking,” he chuckled, amused that her befuddled mind was struggling to sort out right from wrong.



Lawrence slunk down lower in his seat grateful that their table was shielded from other patrons by a row of bushy plants. Still, he worried that someone would overhear or pass by and see what was going on so near to them.



“Take them off Elisabeth. Take them off now,” Randy went on with more authority in his voice. The other two joined in the coaxing.



“Nobody’s looking,” Robert assured her facetiously.



“Yeah. Quick, do it now! Lawrence is right here and he doesn’t mind,” Ted chimed in.



Randy had a grip on the bunched up fabric of her skirt and was tugging it up at the back until she was sitting directly on the faux leather seat exposing all of her panties and the bare flesh above her stockings. “Tell her to take them off,” Randy growled, looking at her husband.



Lawrence couldn’t say the words but, to his shock, he watched his wife lift her bottom off the seat and tug the peach nylon and lace down over her buttocks. Her thighs scissored to let the delicate garment pass over her knees and she lifted one foot at a time to pull her panties completely off. The dark ebony curls between her legs were a shadow in the dim light below the table, but wedged in between Ted and Randy in their dark corner of the restaurant, her bare bottom was hidden from the view of other customers.



Randy retrieved the panties and spread them out on the table. They were not as wet as he’d led Elisabeth to believe, but her mesmerizing scent clung to them. A giddy Randy shamelessly pressed them to his nose before handing the lacy treasure to the other two to let them appreciate her intimate scent as well.



It was alarmingly obvious that Randy wasn’t going to be content with just having sex with her himself. He seemed determined to show off his control over her and her hapless husband, making her embarrass and humiliate herself and her spouse in the process. Elisabeth was too far gone to notice or object and Lawrence was in no position to intervene. He knew he was powerless to thwart Randy’s plans without unleashing consequences that would surely cost him his job, his security and his wife.



Ted and Robert were delighted. They would have been content to pour drinks into Lawrence’s wife until she passed out, but Randy wouldn’t hear of it. He wanted her just the way she was, coherent but helpless. He could see that the pills he’d had Lawrence give her had slowed her thinking and he knew the white powder they’d been slipping into her wine would make her horny as hell. She was a fox and they were going to enjoy her.



Elisabeth took Randy’s arm as they left the bar with Ted on her other side. Robert had the room key and led the way to the elevators with Lawrence trailing behind. There was no way for him to stop the inevitable without implicating himself in what led up to them being there in the first place. The distraught husband lagged a few steps from the rest, not wanting to appear to be part of their group but not wanting to be left behind either. He slipped into the elevator as the doors were closing and rode in silence while the others took charge of his wife. She seemed aware of their inappropriateness but unable to assert her objections. There was a time delay as her brain processed what was happening and her normal moral filters were incapacitated by the warm fog that permeated her perception.



When Randy kissed her deeply, Lawrence could see Elisabeth’s open-mouthed acceptance of his boss’s tongue. While not oblivious to her husband’s presence, she seemed not at all concerned that he was watching. The crudity of Randy’s language seemed acceptable to her and the liberties he took touching and fondling her in front of the others didn’t appear to offend her. In that moment, it seemed to Lawrence that she surrendered to it willingly and it was only when his own guilt welled up that he had to accept that her inability to resist was because of him. He had delivered her to this moment beginning with that very first vacation picture in her bikini that he’d let Randy sneak under his blotter. Every step of the way from that day to this he had hoped it would end; each demand would be the last and Randy would let him live and work in peace.



The hotel room was unremarkable with an-over stuffed couch and chair in a sitting area, a credenza, a TV and king-sized bed against one wall. But, standing on a tripod at the foot of the bed was a video camera that dispelled any thoughts of future deniability or that this was intended as a once-only occurrence. Lawrence’s stomach sank. He wanted to shout Stop!! and rescue his wife from what Randy had planned but the realization that he was in too deep squelched the idea as soon as it formed.



Randy was enjoying being the ringmaster in the sexual circus he controlled. It had gone beyond using Elisabeth sexually now. He wanted to humiliate both the young married woman and her husband. Enjoying Elisabeth sexually would be great, but doing it in front of a helpless Lawrence made it even better. There seemed to be no restraints on his exploitation of them as he had proof of Lawrence’s complicity that would keep him in line. Every step further that he took drew the young husband deeper into the quick sand of culpability.



Elisabeth stood unsteadily in the middle of the room unsure as to why they were there. There weren’t enough places for all of them to sit unless someone was going to sit on the bed. All of the men except Lawrence were taking off their jackets and ties and Robert was fiddling with a camera. She wanted to sit down in one of the chairs but Ted kept her standing until Randy called out to her to undress.



She felt the zipper on her dress being lowered and made a clumsy grab at preserving her modesty. The strapless bodice with its built-in bra sagged quickly from her unrestrained breasts and she clasped the top to her chest in an ungainly save. Ted’s hand had cupped the cheek of her behind and was fondling the firm flesh while she struggled to process what was happening.



“Take your clothes off Elisabeth. Show the boys what you’ve got,” Randy ordered again.



She stood dumbfounded until he barked at her sternly “Get your fucking clothes off!”



Helpless and confused, her glazed eyes met her husband’s looking in vain for his intercession but when Randy prompted him to, he slowly reluctantly gestured for her to proceed. Hopefully she won’t remember any of this he thought.



With shaking hands she found the zipper on her dress and drew it the rest of the way down. Somewhere, deep in her addled psyche, she knew it was wrong, but she felt compelled to do as she was told. The garment slipped off her arms and drooped down onto her belly. The cool air of the room felt like an alien caress that brought goose bumps out on her exposed flesh. Her nipples were already distended into little acorns. They throbbed with a sensitivity that she could feel all the way to her privates. Ted’s hand immediately groped her ample breast and, tweaking hard on the nipple, made her noisily catch her breath.



Lethargically, she pushed the bunched garment off her hips and stepped out of it as it pooled around her feet. Her long legs looked beautiful in dark stockings. The pale smooth skin above called attention to the triangle of dark hair that nestled between her shapely thighs. A momentary flicker of self-consciousness crossed her face and her hands lingered awkwardly in front in a belated attempt to cover her pantyless sex.



Randy’s eyes glittered with smug satisfaction. Her body was even better than he had imagined. Having her undress in front of them while her husband looked on was a special kick. The kind of innocent naïveté that she exuded as she obediently took off her clothes whet his appetite to humiliate them both. His fingers rolled a small vial of liquid in his pocket. The powder in her drink made her mellow, but he knew a few drops of angel fire on her clit would make her wild.



“Shake your tits for us.” Robert encouraged and the young wife rocked her upper body until her breasts jiggled and swayed for the camera.



Ted had already undressed and stood behind her pressing himself against her buttocks as his hands took possession of her breasts. She drew her breath in sharply when he pinched hard on her distended nipples and her hands covered his in a silent plea for him to be gentle.



Lawrence heard her squeal and stood to intervene but a look from Randy made him retreat to the overstuffed chair.

“Love is whatever you can still betray. Betrayal can only happen if you love.”



~John le Carre




Prologue



Tom only commits to what he loves, and when he commits, he’s all in. This also makes him very competitive. It was true in his college athletics and academics; it was true in his work and relationships. Through these qualities he has experienced a great deal of success and in one instance, life-changing heartbreak.



She mesmerized him from the moment he saw her across the university’s central campus green during Greek Rush Week his sophomore year. Her vibrant promoting personality drew attention to their sorority booth. This gorgeous blond was confident and enthusiastic in a way that attracted interest from potential recruits, not to mention any college man with an ounce of testosterone walking by. He then noticed her stunning beauty. Her knotted bright sorority tank top and short shorts accentuated her perfect five foot nine fit body. Suzy had every intention to allow the tank top show off her large tan breasts and for the shorts to cover just enough of her ass to expose the complete length of her long flawless legs. It was almost as if she was saying, “join our sorority and you can be like me.” Who wouldn’t want that? Then, in a magical serendipitous moment, her captivating sparkling blues caught and locked onto Tom’s eyes from across the green. Her broad smile lit up her face and melted his heart. While he wasn’t inclined to believe in destiny, he knew everything in his life had just changed.



Their first date lasted for hours, hearing one another’s stories and enjoying their first kiss. He continued to be mesmerized by her boundless energy and zest for life. She was one of those people who live fully present in the moment. She often said, “all we have is right now, and we will never have it again, so we should live it for all its worth.” The two were immediately attracted by their shared passions to live life in a way that leaves it all out on the field. However, they approached this shared passion for life differently. Tom’s strategic disciplined approach to life complemented Suzy’s impulsive spontaneity that never missed an opportunity. They loved partying together or hanging out with friends, especially Mark, Tom’s best friend and roommate, and whoever he happened to be dating that week.



Suzy lived her go-for-broke approach to life everywhere, including the bedroom. There was nothing she wouldn’t try or do if she knew it might bring pleasure. Although Tom’s deep convictions included waiting to have full intercourse until they were married, everything else was fair game, in every sense of that word. There was nothing prudish for Tom about waiting; he was just a hopeless romantic to make the wedding night special. Their shared commitment to wait actually built anticipation, making their sex life more frequent and hot. For example, one Friday evening during their junior year, Suzy offered to cook a special dinner for Tom after a hard long week. When he opened the apartment door, dinner was already on the table, in and on top of Suzy’s gorgeous naked body. With a smile, she promised that if he ate everything on the table — everything — then he would love the multi-course dessert she had planned. They didn’t leave the apartment that weekend until Monday morning. It was a long, rich dessert. The sexual countdown and anticipation in their relationship intensified with their engagement the summer before their senior year. They couldn’t keep their hands off each other, and rarely did.



The following January, less than six months before their wedding, Suzy called Tom on his cell saying she had to see him right away. She was sobbing. When Tom got to his apartment, Suzy was already there. Rather than the vision of her luscious body sprawled out as a delicacy on the dinner table to be consumed, she was curled up on the couch crying into her hands, barely able to catch her breath. Tom’s roommate Mark stood awkwardly, as most any guy would, with a woman crying uncontrollably in his apartment.



As Tom started to walk toward her to comfort her she put her hand up and said, “Wait. Please don’t make this harder than it already is.”



“What do you mean?” he asked, dumbfounded.



“I’m pregnant,” she blurted through her sobs.



Tom’s legs buckled from under him. “What?” he asked confused. “How?”



Suzy looked up at Mark with a knowing look. Mark dropped his head. “I, uh I, uh Tom, look I am so sorry,” he stammered.



“What the fuck?!” Tom shouted, feeling disoriented and sick to his stomach. His world crumbled around him with the sound of two sobbing words from Suzy.



“I am so sorry Tom,” Suzy pleaded through her tears. “It was spontaneous. We didn’t mean to…”



“Get pregnant?” Tom finished angrily.



“We usually used protection,” Mark volunteered in a failed attempt to defend.



“There was more than once?” Tom shouted in disbelief.



“They didn’t mean anything,” Suzy tried to convince. “It was just physical, nothing more. Just for fun. Sometimes I’d get horny and just need a good fuck,” she confessed.



Mark shrugged his shoulders as if to say “Sorry man,” combined with “how was I supposed to resist that gorgeous body begging to be fucked with no strings attached?”



The room spun. Tom felt dizzy from the shattering words. After years of devotion and anticipation, his fiancé was pregnant with his best friends’ baby. The two people he trusted the most cheated on him with each other. It was all a façade. They fucked each other over and over with the comfort and frequency of meeting for coffee, all behind his back. Betrayal didn’t seem strong enough of a word to describe what Tom felt.



Mark moved out of the apartment and into Suzy’s place that weekend. They were married a couple months later in the spring and their first child arrived two weeks after our college commencement. Mark took an entry-level position with a real estate firm in town while Suzy stayed home with the baby. A year and a half later a second baby came along. Their path’s crossed on occasion through mutual friends, but it was easier for Tom to keep a distance whenever possible due to the pain of the betrayal.



Chapter One



Tom graduated that Spring with a degree in business and finance. A local private investment firm hired him to handle personal and corporate accounts. He had some early successes that captured the attention of the firm’s executives. After three years Tom was invited to become a partner. After seven years, the CEO and majority owner of the firm was ready to retire and offered him the opportunity to purchase his share. He said his dream was to hand the firm over to a young leader who would take it to the next level.



The company continued to do well, and so did Tom’s professional life. He worked long hours, but enjoyed all the luxurious benefits of his wealth. He lived in a large mansion, enjoyed travel to exotic places and was the CEO of one of the largest private investment firms in this region of the country. With all that was full in his life, the pain of betrayal still left a cavernous emptiness in his soul. It wasn’t that he wanted Suzy back any more, at least in the same way, but an injustice had been done that had never been made right. That was until his assistant Cate asked him about an appointment request she received from someone saying she was an old college friend named Suzy. “It sounded urgent,” Cate said.



Normally Tom’s inclination would be to deny the appointment request. If he lived the rest of his life without seeing her, it would be OK with him, certainly easier than dealing with the pain. “Tell her no,” he said.



“She said it was urgent,” Cate repeated. “She sounded kind of desperate.”



Tom didn’t want Cate to think he was completely heartless, and part of him was curious. “OK Cate, book her for a half an hour, but nothing more.”



The next day Suzy entered the large impressive 12-story building with artistic architectural flair of angled metal and glass. An impressive waterfall cascaded behind the round information center just inside the entrance. “Excuse me,” she said to the professional assistant behind the desk. “I have an appointment with Tom Newhouse. Can you direct me to his office?”



“One moment please, and I will check with Mr. Newhouse’s assistant.” After a brief phone call to Cate, the receptionist said, “Mr. Newhouse’s office is on the 12th floor. They are expecting you.”



Suzy stepped into the elevator. She hadn’t realized how professional the office would be, something she wasn’t used to. She felt underdressed compared the men and women in expensive suits hurriedly multitasking on their smartphones as they crowded into the elevator with her. She checked herself in the elevator’s mirrored walls. She had worked to remain fit and maintain her sexy shape from her college years, even though those years seemed like a lifetime ago. She straightened her long blond hair with her fingers. She wore a simple cotton white blouse with plunging neckline that showed off her still-firm cleavage and a blue printed skirt with short heels. Butterflies of nerves flew freely in her stomach as the elevator made its way to the top floor offices of Mr. Thomas Newhouse. She had never felt more nervous to see him or for the reason she asked for the appointment. The rest of her life could possibly hinge on what happens in this meeting. She tried to hold her emotions together.



“Mr. Newhouse will see you now,” Cate said. “Please follow me.” Suzy was impressed by the elegant dark-wood offices, thick plush carpets and statues that decorated the executive floor. She remembered the days when seeing Tom was just a matter of giving him a quick call on his cell, or even better, reaching across the soft bed to wake him up in a way that put a smile on his face. Cate knocked before opening the large double doors with the nameplate: Mr. Thomas Newhouse, Chief Executive Officer. As they walked in, the spacious office opened up with an expansive view of the city from windows that covered the entire length of the office wall behind his desk. Two chairs were placed in the center of the room facing his desk. A small conference table was positioned to her left with six chairs; two winged-back chairs were in front of a fireplace to her right. Suzy noticeably gasped as she realized the square-footage of his office felt like half the size of her entire house.



“Have a seat Suzy,” Tom said matter-of-factly, pointing to one of the chairs in front of his sophisticated desk.



“It’s good to see you, Tom. It’s been a long time. You look good,” Suzy volunteered.



“Anything else, Mr. Newhouse?” Cate asked.



“That will be all, Cate. Thank you very much.” Cate closed the doors behind her on her way out.



“Wow,” Suzy added. “This is impressive.”



“Cate said you had something urgent you wanted to talk with me about,” he answered, acting uninterested in small talk. Tom worked to hide behind the veneer of professionalism, as memories and feelings flooded over him. He couldn’t help the vivid reminder of how stunningly beautiful Suzy was, still. His heart felt like it was doing gymnastics; it ached as if no time had passed.



“Um, I do,” Suzy answered. “I just thought…,” her words tapered. She realized Tom wasn’t going to make this easy. “Tom, I’m in trouble,” she said, tears welling up in her eyes. “I need your help.”



“I’m not interested, Suzy.”



“Please Tom, I’m desperate. I have nowhere to turn.”



“You fucked your way out of my life when you fucked Mark,” he answered.



“Please Tom, that was a long time ago.”



“Yes it was, and I’ve moved on. You ripped my heart out Suzy. I’m not going to let you do that again.”



“I know, I know,” Suzy said. “I am so sorry. I’ve never gotten over what I did to you,” she confessed. “My kids will be on the street, we’ll lose everything,” she blurted as her tears turned to sobs.



The memory of Suzy pleading and sobbing came flooding back, as if he were standing in his old living room that fateful afternoon years before. “Stop crying,” Tom said.



Suzy worked to regain her composure. “Please let me explain the trouble I’m in Tom. If there is nothing you can or want to do, I understand.”



“We have 20 minutes left in this appointment,” Tom compromised. “I’ll listen to your sad story, and in 20 minutes I will need to leave for my next appointment.”



“Thank you Tom.” Suzy paused to catch her breath. Her ample chest rose and fell with her deep heaves. “Tom, I blew it. I messed up big time. It was a spontaneous thing I thought would make everything alright.”



“There’s a shocker,” Tom said unsympathetically. “Déjà vu. Who’d you fuck this time?”



“It’s not like that Tom. Mark’s been working hard, long hours, trying to make ends meet. It’s been tough out there. We were falling behind. I felt badly, and thought if I could just find a way to help turn things around. I heard about an investment opportunity that promised huge immediate returns, doubling the investment in four years or less.”



“Sounds too good to be true, even for me,” Tom boasted.



“It was. It was a ponzi scheme,” she said. “It gets worse. I borrowed money to make the investment with, so I wouldn’t be out anything. With the promised high returns, I could easily pay the loan back and rake in profits from the investment. It was a sure thing. I put up our house as collateral and handed the ponzi scam $94,000.”



“What does Mark say?” he asked. “This sounds like his problem, not mine.”



“Mark doesn’t know,” Suzy said. “I wanted to surprise him when the money came in. That was last week. This week the ponzi people were busted and all the money is gone. He’d die if he knew what I did. I just want to fix it without him knowing.”



“Shit, Suzy” Tom said, shaking his head. Her impulsive personality hadn’t changed.



“The loan sharks knew what the loan was for, and now want their money back. They’re not nice Tom. One late payment and they said they would come after me to get it any way they could, in addition to taking our house.”



“Shit,” he repeated. “You’re in trouble.”



“Please Tom, I need your help. I wouldn’t come here, I mean with what I did to you before, if I wasn’t desperate. I need $94,000 to get me out of this mess. I’ll do anything.”



“I can’t imagine there is anything you have to offer that I might be interested in.”



“Please Tom. There has got to be a way we can work something out. I have nowhere else to go. Whatever arrangement we can make, I’ll agree to.”



“$94,000 is a lot of money,” he said, generously considering options.



“Anything, Tom. Just name it.”



“Everything in me tells me to walk away from this.”



“Please Tom, I’m desperate here. I’ll do anything.”



Tom pulled out two pieces of blank paper. He quickly penned three brief sentences on the first and four sentences on the second with a hand-drawn signature line at the bottom of each page. “Here is my proposal, take it or leave it,” he answered. “Tell your loan sharks to meet me here in my first floor conference room at noon tomorrow. I will pay them $94,000 in cash, with an extra $1000 for their trouble. They will hand me all documents regarding the second mortgage on your home, release you from any further liability, no questions asked.”



“Really?! That sounds great,” Suzy said, with her shoulders dropping in relief. Tears streamed down her face. “I don’t know how to thank you.”



“You will in a moment. I’m not done,” Tom said. “For this to happen, before you leave today, you will sign this first page, a simple note to repay the $95,000 with 10% compounded interest over five years, to be paid monthly. The deed to the house will remain as collateral.”



“How much would I owe you each month?” Suzy asked.



“Works out to just over $2000 a month.”



“But, I can’t afford that Tom.”



“Sure you can. The second page requiring your signature is an employment contract for your new job working every weekend at my house for a generous $400 per day, plus being available for an occasional midweek need at the same rate. The employment contract locks you into my employment until the loan is paid. If you ever fail to perform or show up as expected, the full loan value of $95,000 will become immediately due and payable, as if no payments had ever been made. “



“Tom, I can’t be away on weekends. That’s when Mark is home, and the kids.”



“None of this is negotiable, Suzy, and I’m not done. For every day you work, $250 will be deducted from your pay toward the loan, leaving you with a generous $150 a day or $300 a weekend to take home to Mark. Payment will be cash under the table, with no record employment, also making it tax free income. Four weeks of deductions will add up to $2000 a month for your secret loan payments, and $1200 a month in cash to take home. When you add it all up, that works out to the equivalent of over $38,000 a year with $14,000 take home pay, far more than anyone else will offer you for two days a week. I think Mark will be very pleased with your initiative, especially when you share with him how excited you are for your new job.”



“What’s my job?”



“That may be the best part. Your new job gives you sole responsibility for all my personal Domestic and Hospitality Services. I have some huge plans, but am just getting started dreaming about the possibilities.”



“What does that mean?” Suzy asked skeptically.



“It is a fancy title that simply means you will enthusiastically satisfy every personal request I ask of you to serve me and my guests, without restriction. Keeping the job is contingent on your performance exceeding every expectation.”



“But what does that include?” Suzy asked.



“To use your word, Suzy, it includes anything. You will willingly do anything I ask, without hesitation and with excellence. The same standard will apply for your services to satisfy all the needs and requests of my guests when I entertain. If my house were Disneyland, you are the ride that puts a smile on every face, especially mine. The one difference between you and Disneyland is your willingness to become any ride someone wants you to be.”



“You want me to be your whore,” Suzy said in shock.



“That’s your word Suzy, not mine. You walked in here begging, saying you are willing to do anything for the money you are desperate for. Out of kindness that is against my better judgment, I am offering to help you out. The ball is in your court. It’s your choice. If you don’t like it, say no, and my life goes back to the bliss of you being a distant memory. You go home and explain to Mark why loan sharks are coming to your house for more than your money and house.” Tom paused to let his words sink in. “Or, you can sign here to enthusiastically take on the responsibilities for my Domestic and Hospitality Services, a position I generously just created specifically for you.”



Tears began to stream down Suzy’s face. She knew what she had come for, and knew there would be a cost. “What do I tell Mark?”



“Tell him you went out and got a new job. Tell him you are excited about it, that you’re committed to it and you start Saturday, day after tomorrow. Tell him you are in charge of Domestic and Hospitality Services for some corporate executive. Just never tell him I have anything to do with it or the deal is off.



Suzy felt a tornado of emotions whirl within her, from relief to fear to bewilderment.



“We have one minute until our appointment is over and my generous offer evaporates. The choice is yours Suzy. There will be no going back on whatever you decide. You walk out that door and I will never extend this offer again or agree to another appointment. If you sign the papers, then every weekend you belong to me with no restrictions. You willingly agree to absolutely anything.”



Suzy’s exposed cleavage glistened with nervous perspiration. She came to see Tom because she had no other options. She thought she would be willing to do anything to get out of this mess, but didn’t realize that’s what would be required.

“Time’s up,” Tom said matter-of-factly.



Suzy jumped toward the desk, grabbed the pen and hurriedly scribbled her signatures on the lines at the bottom of both pages. “Oh gawd, oh gawd,” she said, feeling sober relief.



“I’ll have a representative ready to meet your loan sharks tomorrow at noon,” Tom said calmly.



“Thank you Tom,” she said. The relief of debt clouded any understanding of what she had just committed herself to.



“See you at 6:00 am, Saturday morning, day after tomorrow,” he answered. Cate will give you the address and directions. Your uniform will be waiting for you when you arrive.”



“Uniform?” she asked.



“It’s not much, but it will look stunning on you.”



Tom had just succeeded in the first step to secure rightful justice. Now, by Suzy agreeing to this proposal, Tom would be secretly fucking Suzy every weekend behind Mark’s back.



Chapter Two



Suzy’s eyes were wide open, as she lay on her back in bed. Mark slept restlessly next to her. The red numbers on her small alarm clock read 2:58 a.m. The evening before had not gone well. Suzy waited until Mark got home after work Friday to tell him she was starting a new job in the morning to help make ends meet. He appreciated her initiative, but couldn’t imagine what possessed her to spontaneously sign a five-year contract committing her to the entirety of every weekend plus an occasional mid-week obligation. Mark couldn’t know it wasn’t “what” had possessed her, but “who” now possessed her. The discussion escalated from an argument and then to one of the biggest unresolved fights of their marriage. Mark went to bed angry, Suzy in tears of quandary. Suzy wondered if she would be able to keep both Mark and her secret.



The full moon shone through the window, painting the bedroom with a dim blue hue. She felt the enormous relief of her loan-shark debt being paid just 15 hours before. Her relief was mixed with turmoil from the conflict with Mark and starting her new job in just three hours. She was even more anxious for whatever Tom may have meant by expecting her enthusiastic willingness to do anything he asked. His sexual innuendo was too obvious to deny.



Suzy also couldn’t deny the butterflies she felt having Tom in her life again. They used to have something magical, but now everything was different. The debt she owed him was more than financial. She owed him for what she did to him years ago, and now owed him again for what he did for her just hours before. She realized that if Tom did have sexual intentions, she had never experienced his large ten-inch dick inside her before. She wondered if that was about to change. She felt her nipples tighten and her pussy moisten at the thought. The butterflies in her stomach grew with arousal.



Suzy’s body began to tingle with imagination as she lay there. She slowly slid both hands under the sheets while raising her ass slightly to push her already-moist panties down her legs, careful not to wake Mark from his agitated sleep next to her. Once the panties passed her knees, she gently jostled her legs to coax the thin fabric to fall toward her ankles until she could easily kick them off to the bottom of the bed. Suzy’s hands moved purposely back up her body, the first stopping at her tingling pussy, while the other continued up across her abs and breast to take hold of her tender erect nipple between the tips of her fingers. Suzy moaned as the simultaneous massage began.



Suzy’s imagination transported her back to the carefree sex-filled days of college, flooding her senses with vivid memories of the sights, sounds, feel and taste of her sexual exploits. It had been a long time since she had gone down this road in her mind, but it almost felt like it was only yesterday. Memories cascaded through her mind of all the sexual games she and Tom made up, turning any ordinary experience like a football game, a shopping run or especially times of cooking in the kitchen into opportunities of sexual consequence. She remembered long weekends camping together that were more about exploring each other than nature outside the tent. Memories of erotic experiences with no inhibitions tumbled through her mind and body, soaking her pussy. Suzy’s fingers instinctively increased their pace, sliding easily between her drenched pussy lips, dancing on the engorged button of her throbbing clit. Quiet moans escaped her throat. Her body tingled with growing pleasure.



Suzy’s erotic college flashbacks naturally included memories of secret wild sex with Mark behind Tom’s back. The sex with Mark had started completely innocently. It was spontaneous and impulsive. Suzy dropped by their house one Friday afternoon to decorate it for an erotic game she dreamed up to play with Tom that weekend. Suzy was excited and felt even more horny than usual. With Tom in class on Friday afternoons and Mark having plans to be out of town for the weekend, Suzy took the opportunity to sneak into their quiet empty house to prepare it for her game.



She planned their sensual fun to involve moving from one room to the next, using almost every room in their small house, each room promising a more intense sexual experience. Suzy grew more aroused from anticipation as she quietly prepared the first two rooms, the living room and family room, for their erotic amusement. At first she tried to shake off the distraction of her arousal spurred on by her anticipation of the game, but she soon gave in to it, allowing brief moments of self-caressing through her clothing. Erotic excitement built as she imagined the weekend ahead. She moved to decorate the kitchen and ached for more touch. Rather than fighting her sexual urges, Suzy decided to have some of her own fun while preparing the house, repeatedly bringing herself to the brink of orgasm each time she completed a room. Being alone in the house, she decided to remove her bra and panties to allow unhindered access for her fun. She was careful to stop short of an orgasm, saving her juices for the weekend ahead. She moved from the kitchen to prepare the small dining room, then laid on the table until she was dizzy from her own skillful touch. Her tanned body glistened from perspiration. Her nipples pushed through her thin tank top; her pussy drenched her skirt. It was here she had the idea to one day serve Tom dinner on this table from her naked body. Inspired by the thought, she pulled off her damp tank top and skirt to finish her preparations throughout the house completely naked. It just seemed right.



Suzy made her way upstairs to prepare Tom’s bedroom, the final and ultimate destination of her erotic game. Tom paid a little extra each month to have the master bedroom at the end of the hall. Everything in her buzzed with excitement as she topped the stairs. She wished Tom would hurry home from class to begin her game; her naked body was desperate for release. She couldn’t remember when she felt more hot and horny. As she walked down the hall to decorate Tom’s bedroom, she passed Mark’s room. The door was open and she glanced in. She and Mark both screamed in surprise, being caught by the other. Mark caught Suzy naked and alone in the hallway; Suzy caught Mark standing in the middle of his bedroom, masturbating while watching porn on the large flat screen television on his wall. He had not yet left for his weekend trip. In a matter of a few awkward seconds, their initial shock gave way to wordless embarrassment. Their embarrassment morphed to smiles of mutual physical admiration and opportunity. In the blink of an eye, all of it gave way to a spontaneous reaction they had each unknowingly prepared their own bodies for in the minutes before the surprise encounter. Arousal, attraction, opportunity and impulse all converged into a steamy passionate encounter, seemingly out of their control.



Suzy accepted the small glancing invitation by Mark to enter his room to finish what he had begun. None of the bodies on the large screen compared to the perfection of Suzy’s exquisite physique. Suzy’s body still tingled from her own attention, and now in new anticipation with the sexual energy in the room. Mark was a muscular six foot two with brown hair and steely hazel eyes. Suzy pulled Mark’s grey shirt over his head, exposing his six-pack abs and strong biceps. He looked deep into her eyes, communicating what they both knew and wanted before locking into a passionate kiss. Suzy’s hands admired his abs as they descended down into his pants, pushing everything to the floor until he was as naked as she. Without a word, Suzy lowered herself to take Mark’s eight-inch hard cock into her mouth. Suzy savored the sweetness of the pre-cum already lubricating his large purple head. Mark moaned as his dick disappeared into the warm moist massaging care of her lips, tongue and throat. Suzy slowly ascended his shaft before rapidly taking him in again, repeating as she turned her head with each descent. Mark had never experienced such skill, and couldn’t help thinking how lucky Tom was. The sex was passionate, hot and rough in a way that purely physical sex allows. There were no complexities of managing an emotional romantic relationship that would get in the way or cause either to hold back from their primal lust. This was raw forbidden sex, two people using each other for pure erotic recreation. Nothing more, nothing less. The forbidden nature of it, behind Tom’s back, added to the sexual intensity. Their spontaneous rendezvous moved to consummation as Suzy lay on her back on Mark’s bed. His tongue had been working its magic on her primed pussy.



“Fuck me Mark,” she said, breaking the verbal silence.



Mark raised his face from her juicy pussy, his lips covered with her juices. “Are you sure?” he asked, knowing Tom’s limitations with her in their sex life.



“Do I look sure?” she asked. “Fuck me like a man.”



Nothing else seemed to matter in that moment. It was as if no one else existed than the two of them in the heat of passion. For the first of many times that would follow, Mark plowed his dick deep into Suzy.



“yes, Yes, YES!” Suzy screamed in delight as her muscles gripped the breath of his shaft drilling deeply into her. Suzy’s fingers dug into Mark’s back, begging for the pounding affection. “Oh Yes, Oh Yes, Oh Yes!” Suzy screamed, drowning out the sound of the porn continuing to play on large screen covering the wall in front of them. “I’m cumming! I’m cumming!” Her pussy gushed like an uncapped geyser siphoned for release. Her body quaked. The room spun.



Cold chills covered Mark’s muscular body as he continued to drill into her gorgeous soaked pussy. He leaned forward to take one of her large black erect nipples between his teeth, gently rising up, pulling her tit with him. “Oh yes!” she cried in response to the erotic pleasure and pain. He grasped the other tit with his hand, as the muscles throughout his entire body began to contract from the impending orgasm.



“Harder,” Suzy insisted from his assault of his dick, teeth and hands. “Fuck me harder,” she begged.



“Oh Gawd!” Mark yelled, releasing her aching nipple from between his teeth. Mark stood and arched his back as the first load of thick white cream unloaded into her thirsty love box.



“Fuck me,” Suzy yelled. “Fuck yes!”



Mark continued to pound his dick into her insatiable pussy, filling her as the overflowing mixed juices poured out onto the bed.



“Oh gawd, don’t stop,” she begged. “You’re going to take me again!” Suzy’s head began to turn from side to side and her hips bucked uncontrollably as another tsunami wave of bliss washed over her.



Mark and Suzy finally collapsed in exhaustion from their spontaneous romp. After they caught their breath, they basked the pure unbridled pleasure of the moment but also struggled with the inner-conflict of their betrayal of Tom. It was a struggle they felt over the months that followed after every impulsive forbidden romp. With each spontaneous stolen fuck, they made another promise to never let it happen again. It was a promise they could never keep.



Suzy snapped out of her erotic trip down memory lane and back to the reality of her husband Mark’s restless movement next to her in bed. Her body tingled from her fingers’ continued loving caress while reminiscing those early days. Suzy looked at the clock: 3:15. She looked over at Mark, feeling badly for his agitated sleep. She had a little over an hour before her alarm would go off and she would get up to begin her new job to pay off her debt. She pulled her lingerie top over her head and dropped it off the side of the bed. She was as naked and beautiful as the day she surprised Mark in the hallway in college. She pressed her bare body against his, reaching her hand down into his boxers, to take hold of his dick. Mark’s cock involuntarily responded to her touch, growing in her hand. She sat up and pulled his boxers down his muscular legs, which began to bring him out of his deep slumber. Suzy straddled his legs and took his familiar semi-soft dick into her mouth.



“What are you doing?” he said as his arousal began to wake him up more.



“What do you think I’m doing?” she said before closing her mouth around him again, allowing it to grow to full stature in her mouth.



“What time is it?” he asked, still in a sleepy fog.



“3:15,” she whispered before recapturing his dick in her warm moist mouth.



Mark smiled and moaned in delight, still groggy and half-asleep. It had been a while since Suzy had taken the initiative to seduce him. The blue light of the moon highlighted the beautiful silhouette of her exquisite body on top of him.



Suzy slid her body forward to lie on top of his, positioning her mouth next to his ear. Her pussy was drenched from her fantasy trip down memory lane. She slid her body down until she felt his firm member pressing against the soft cheeks of her fit ass. She crushed her large tits against his ripped chest. “I have an hour before the alarm goes off for my new job,” Suzy whispered into his ear. “I want to use it to put a smile on your face before I leave. Maybe we can make this our little weekly tradition.”



Mark jolted awake. Her words reminded him of her announcement the evening before, and the ensuing mêlée. Resentment and frustration returned with force. As beautiful as Suzy was in the light of the moon, he could only feel disappointment. As much as he didn’t want it to, his arousal dissipated like water off a hot skillet.



“Damn it,” he said. “That’s right.” An awkward pause filled the room with renewed tension. “Really?” Mark asked. “After last night?



“That was last night, Mark. This is now,” she tried, hoping for some peace.



“I don’t want to fight, Suzy, but I’m not ready to make love either,” Mark confessed. “I’m so pissed.” It was just too soon.



“Fine,” she said, dejected. She rolled off of him disappointed, and lay on the bed facing away from him. It was rare for Mark to ever resist her advances, let alone completely reject her seduction. She was emotionally and sexually frustrated. The tension was palpable. She watched the numbers of the small alarm clock slowly advance toward the sounding of the alarm, and payback time. If Mark only knew.



Chapter Three



The doorbell buzzed at the back entrance of the sprawling colonial mansion, announcing the arrival of the newest member of the servant staff promptly at 6:00 am. The large brick home was positioned at the end of a long circuitous tree-lined driveway in the center of the 40-acre estate, a mile in any direction from the nearest road or adjoining property. Meticulously manicured lawns surrounded the main house, with elaborate gardens and a small lake decorating the property’s perimeter. Mr. Newhouse liked his seclusion.



Suzy couldn’t remember ever feeling more nervous as she stood in the cool morning air waiting for the back door to open. Even though Tom mentioned a uniform, she decided to dress professionally, wearing a blue sheath dress with matching 3-inch high heels. She remembered from her college days that Tom preferred bare tanned legs to hose.



Tom shared no specifics of what her duties would be; she had no idea what to expect. The only two requirements of her job were to willingly do anything asked of her and to do so in a way that exceeded every expectation. Every day that she satisfied these two requirements, a fraction of her debt would be paid; the moment she did not, the entire initial balance would be due and payable. Mark’s anger and frustration about her new weekend job was nothing compared to what it would be with the news of a $95,000 second mortgage being called in, forcing them to lose everything.



Suzy felt both unease and relief when the tall back door opened.



“Suzy, I presume,” a young tall man in a black tuxedo said as he put his white-gloved hand out to shake for the introduction.



“Um, yes,” she said. “I’m Suzy.”



“Mr. Newhouse told us to expect you. You’re right on time. He will like that,” he complemented as he admired her stunning natural beauty. “Please come in.”



Suzy stepped into the marbled floor entryway of the back servant’s entrance. “My name is Benjamin, Mr. Newhouse’s butler. I run the affairs of the house and manage the staff to ensure Mr. Newhouse’s every need is taken care of.”



Suzy appreciated Benjamin’s professionalism and the fact he was easy on the eyes. If Benjamin was someone she had to work with, at least he appeared courteous, handsome and competent. He looked to be around 30 with sandy blond hair, brown eyes and a muscular six foot five. He seemed confident and capable in a down-to-earth way.



“The women’s servant’s dressing room is right here,” he said, directing Suzy into the first room to the right, immediately adjacent to the small entry. You will be sharing it with Annette, Mr. Newhouse’s maid. The only reason to be in here during your shift will be to change in and out of your uniform. Street clothes are never allowed in the main house. Three sets of your uniform have been prepared. Mr. Newhouse is a stickler for our appearance always being formal, clean and sharp. If you find your uniform becomes soiled for some reason, change into a new one and give the other to Annette to be laundered.”



Suzy silently struggled with the idea she was to start in the servants’ room with the maid, and that she had to wear a uniform. The formal appearance of Benjamin’s tuxedo however gave her hope for classy attire.



“I’ll wait for you to change, and then give you a tour of the house before we gather at 7:00 in the parlor for staff introductions.”



Suzy stepped into the servants’ room and heard Benjamin close the door behind her to allow for privacy as she changed into her uniform. Suzy saw four small wooden closet doors next to each other, two with nameplates. One closet had Annette’s name on the door with the word “Maid” beneath; the second had Suzy’s name with her distinguished title: Domestic and Hospitality Services. She opened the door to find three uniforms hanging on separate hangers, with a small mirror on the inside of the door. She pulled the first hanger out, lifted it up to look at the uniform, and thought there must be a mistake. She reached in to look at the other two hangers and discovered duplicate outfits. The only items on the three identically prepared hangers were a transparent black strapless underwire shelf bra with white accents, a matching lacy black thong and garter belt, black fishnet stockings, a black satin collar with a petite white bowtie and the final touch of white gloves. Three pairs of shiny black four-inch high heels were lined up on the bottom of the closet. She quickly checked the other two untitled closets, but they were empty.



Suzy returned the three hangers to the closet before opening the door to let Benjamin know there seemed to be a mistake. “Where would I find the rest of my uniform?” she asked.

Benjamin tried not to smile at her question. “Yes ma’am,” he answered politely. “Mr. Newhouse said you might wonder if there was something more. I assure you however, three complete sets of your uniform are there for you in your closet.”



“That can’t be,” Suzy protested.



“Mr. Newhouse did say that if they are not to your liking,” Benjamin paused, giving Suzy a brief moment of hope, “then you can choose to not wear them. However, you will be required to wear the high heels.”



“Oh good,” Suzy said in relief, still mentally adjusting to everyone referring to Tom as Mr. Newhouse. “I’ll just keep on what I have, and switch into the high heels,” she said as she ran her hands down the length of her dress.



“I’m sorry,” Benjamin interrupted. “I’m afraid that is not an option. Mr. Newhouse said it is your choice to either wear the uniform or to not wear the uniform. Wearing something else will not be allowed.”



Suzy’s jaw dropped in disbelief. “You mean to wear this or to walk around without any clothes, which is basically the same thing?”



“Yes ma’am, that’s what Mr. Newhouse means, but wearing the high heels of course.”



“Of course,” Suzy answered sarcastically. She couldn’t believe these were her only two options. “You’re kidding me,” she asked, reading his face for her answer.



“No ma’am,” he confirmed. “And you will need to decide and get changed quickly. Time is getting away from us. We will need to finish the tour before the 7:00 staff meeting for introductions. Tardiness is grounds for immediate dismissal.”



Tears began to trickle down Suzy’s cheeks as Benjamin closed the door again. Her choices were clear: to quit, to take all of her clothes off, or to wear the skimpy uniform, complete with bowtie. All three options left her fully exposed. If she quit, she would be exposed to lose everything. Even worse, she knew that if Mark ever found out about her loan and promise to spend every weekend with Tom, she would lose Mark too. She realized her only choice was what to wear, or in truth, to wear anything at all. She unzipped the back of her dress, pulled it over her head and reached for one of the scantily clad hangers.



A few minutes later, Suzy sheepishly emerged from the women’s dressing room, shy for who would see her in her tuxedo-like lingerie. The cool air of the entry room chilled her barely-covered body, causing her nipples to react involuntarily, pushing through the top of her transparent bra. Her new uniform left very little to the imagination, and created a response from Benjamin that Mr. Newhouse hoped would happen for all his male (and possibly female) guests when they saw her. Suzy saw the immediate movement of Benjamin’s eyes, smile and loins as she stepped out of the dressing room toward him.



“Wow,” Benjamin said, breaking his professionalism. He was going to like working with this new member of the staff and had hopes for a close relationship.



Suzy blushed, unsuccessful in her attempt to stand gracefully while trying to cover exposed body with her hands. The skimpy outfit was tight enough to feel like a second layer of skin. The shiny black pumps raised her small fit round ass, showing it off like an exquisite painting framed in the black lace of her thong.



“I’m sorry,” Benjamin said, “I forgot to mention that no jewelry is allowed while you are working except for anything Mr. Newhouse provides. You can leave your jewelry in your closet. It will be secure.”



Suzy reached up to take her earring studs out, giving a look of concession. She left everything else of hers in the closet, including her dignity; she might as well leave her jewelry in there too.



“Your wedding ring too,” he said.



Suzy looked shocked at the suggestion. “You’re not serious.”



“Mr. Newhouse was very clear. Especially for the duties you will have, your wedding ring must never be seen on this property.”



Suzy soberly turned and walked back into the women’s dressing room, allowing the door to close behind her. She slowly removed her wedding ring from her finger and buried it deep into her small purse hanging on a hook in her personalized closet. As she closed the closet door she realized at a new level that every weekend, she now belonged to Tom.



With only a half an hour left, Benjamin was forced to give Suzy a quick tour of the sprawling mansion, showing shortcuts and offering helpful advice she would need to carry out her duties. The extravagance throughout the mansion was overstated. Thick plush carpets led to highly polished hardwood floors. Artwork and statues worthy of small museums decorated the three floors. All three levels had hidden servant areas and staircases the staff used to provide excellent service with minimal intrusion. The first floor was built for luxurious living and socializing, including a parlor, a vast living room with a large stone fireplace, an elegant dining room, a library, a game room, a ballroom and entrances to the endless gardens. The second floor was comprised of multiple elegant guest bedrooms. The top floor was dedicated to Mr. Newhouse’s personal quarters. The Master quarters included elite amenities complete with a large private suite, theater, kitchen, Jacuzzi, and an elevator to a private indoor pool. Entry to the third floor was only allowed by invitation from Mr. Newhouse, something Benjamin felt confident Suzy would receive frequently. Suzy would need to wait to see the Master’s quarters. It reminded Suzy that Tom always loved having the best bedroom in the house, and how much his Master bedroom had evolved from their days in college.



“What is Tom like to work for?” Suzy asked.



“He is to be called Mr. Newhouse,” Benjamin quickly answered. “Never Tom. I don’t care how you have known him in the past, when you are here, he is Mr. Newhouse.”



“Is he always this tight and controlling?” Suzy asked.



“Always. I prefer to think of it as him being in charge.” Benjamin looked both ways before adding with softened voice, “Legend has it that he was burned several years by some people he trusted closely, and vowed to never let that happen again. I don’t know any details.”



Suzy knew more in that moment than Benjamin would ever know about the details.



“That’s one reason he demands perfection and high standards,” Benjamin continued with his normal volume. “Staff members are to exceed every expectation in everything they do. No exceptions.”



“How do you do that?” she asked sincerely, unsure about what her job would include, let alone what the expectations would be.



“You exceed every expectation by responding to every request as if it were your idea. You do it in a way that convinces them you are glad they asked you to do it. You treat it as if there is nothing you would rather do, and nothing would make you happier.”



“Seriously, how do you do that?” she asked.



“Before you can convince them, you have to convince yourself. They will read it a mile away if there is any hesitation. I imagine Mr. Newhouse is paying you dearly to be here. Every request becomes an opportunity to respond with enthusiastic gratitude for his generosity. If you are really good, and you want to keep your job, you become so convincing that you convince yourself.”



Suzy felt self-conscious in her skimpy attire. She couldn’t imagine how she would be able to convince herself or anyone else that she was glad to be there dressed like this, let alone to wait on them.



“You can start with your uniform,” he recommended. “If you show one ounce of hesitation wearing it, you won’t last the morning. He won’t have it. You can walk around mousy like you are, or wear it proudly like a debutant at a ball. You are either all in for this, or you aren’t. I might add, you have every reason to walk confidently with the way you look,” he complimented.



Suzy blushed at his compliment, but struggled with how exposed she felt in front of complete strangers. If she were alone with Mark in their bedroom, on a different night than last night, she would own the room in this outfit. It was very different in a mansion of complete strangers.



“You are here with a job to do,” Benjamin added. “You have a beauty and body that men and women can’t help but admire. So step up. Enjoy it. If you do, you’ll convince them and maybe even yourself.”



Suzy straightened her posture with a facade of confidence. She glanced in a hallway mirror as they walked toward the parlor. She knew she looked sexy. Her long blond hair danced off her shoulders, and around her bowtie. The transparent bra and lacy thong showed off the benefits of her daily workouts. Her slender voluptuous body had everything it needed to boldly flaunt itself; held back only by her insecurities from the unusual predicament.



“Time for staff introductions in the parlor,” Benjamin said as the turned to enter the elegantly decorated sitting room promptly at 7:00.



Tom was sitting in a large winged back chair, drinking a cup of coffee and savoring a fresh warm croissant. The parlor was decorated with colonial wallpaper, thick light blue carpet and a renaissance painting of a meadow prominently displayed above the fireplace mantle. It was a warm comfortable room.



“Well,” Tom said with a smile as he watched Suzy walk in, dressed for her first day of work. “Welcome. I see your uniform fits perfectly. It looks even better than I had imagined,” Tom complemented.



“Good morning,” Suzy nodded with a smile, remembering Benjamin’s words of coaching. She could only imagine how Tom had imagined what she would look like in the sultry uniform he selected for her. Two men and a woman stood comfortably across the room, each dressed for their role on staff. Suzy tried her best to hide her growing self-consciousness, feeling exposed in a room with three new strangers.



“Let me introduce you to your new colleagues. They do their jobs with excellence, as I’m sure you will. You have already met Benjamin, the best butler in the city.”



“Thank you sir,” Benjamin answered genuinely.



“Meet Chef Francois,” Tom began, “a master in the kitchen.”



“Merci,” Francois answered with a small bow. Chef Francois stood on the left of the small line of staff, wearing a white chef coat, black pants and a French cooking hat. He was six feet tall with a normal healthy build, brown hair and eyes. He was obviously a man with artistic flair, no doubt expressed in his cooking. Tom had imported the 35-year old chef from one of the finest culinary schools in Paris.



“Next to Francois is Annette, my maid,” Tom continued. Suzy visually assessed Annette, as Annette appraised Suzy’s beauty. The 22 year-old maid had a slender five foot seven body with petite perky tits and long legs with a tiny ass. The highlights of her body were shown off with a simple maid uniform of a short white blouse with half-length puffy sleeves, and a black mini-skirt with a small white waist apron. She had long brunette hair and translucent blue eyes. She was beautiful.



Ricardo the chauffer stood on the other side of Annette. The 25-year old muscular driving enthusiast from Latin America had black hair and deep dark eyes set off by the white of his broad smile and button-up shirt worn with a red garter for flair. Ricardo’s biceps challenged his tight shirtsleeves, rolled up mid-way up his forearm. Ricardo’s bright smile was in full display when he saw Suzy walk through the door with Benjamin. Ricardo was a man of passion, celebrated in everything he did.



“Everyone, this is Suzy,” Tom continued. “As of today, she will personally ensure the highest level of satisfaction for all domestic and hospitality services for me and my guests every weekend.”



The announcement of her title sounded important to the staff, but also unclear about what it meant. “If I may ask Sir, what will her duties include so we may know how to support her?” Ricardo asked. Suzy wondered herself.



“Of course,” Tom responded. “You are all dressed in uniforms that make it clear what your duties are, correct?” The staff all nodded, dressed obviously as a butler, chef, maid and chauffer respectively. “So I ask, if you saw Suzy walking toward you to provide a service, what would you imagine or even hope her role might be?



An energized tension filled the room, especially for Suzy. Suzy was stunned at Tom’s question, and what it implied. She was the sexiest person in the room, and dressed to show it off.



“Please, don’t be shy about your answers,” Tom encouraged.



Ricardo’s face lit up with his broad Latin smile. Testosterone raced through his body, as it did when the vision of Suzy first walked into the room moments before. “I know what I would think or hope for,” he blurted in his thick accent.



“Please speak freely,” Tom encouraged again. “What would be your greatest hope when you saw Suzy walking toward you dressed as she is?” Suspense filled the room.



“I’d want to fuck her brains out,” Ricardo blurted. “I don’t remember when I’ve seen someone more beautiful and fuckable,” he added as a complement. “No offense,” he said turning to Suzy and then to Annette.



Suzy blushed, but stood stunned and speechless. She felt more exposed than ever.



“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” Tom said with laughter that broke some of the tension. All the staff, especially Suzy, were surprised at the bold description of her job. “It isn’t just that people may want to fuck her brains out, as you say, but she is here to do the same for them. And, like the rest of you with your jobs, she will do it with excellence and satisfaction. Of course, like the rest of you, there may be other duties as assigned.”



All eyes turned to Suzy. Their minds took them to imaginative places for how she might be asked to carry out her role. Cold chills covered Suzy’s body at the public announcement of her job description. Annette felt some relief. While her primary duties were as the maid, the “other duties as assigned” clause in her employment agreement had included occasional personal services to Tom.



“Damn that’s hot,” Ricardo blurted out.



“Any other questions before you all get to work?” Tom asked.



Suzy’s mind swirled with so many questions, but none that she could find the words to articulate.



“Wonderful,” he said. “We have a splendid tradition to welcome new staff here, so we can all personally experience the expertise of new colleagues.” A knowing look of stunned disbelief came over the veteran staff, followed by smiles. “Our humble staff began with Benjamin and then Annette. Our tradition began two years ago when Francois joined the team. We thought it would be fun for the staff to personally experience his cooking to appreciate what he had to offer for my guests and me. He prepared a feast fit for a king.”



“One of the best meals I have ever had,” Benjamin added. Annette nodded in agreement.



“Then Ricardo joined the staff six months later as my new driver. Because of Francois’ famous meal, we thought it would be fun to continue the new tradition by having Ricardo take us for a drive to experience what he is able to do behind the wheel of a car.”



“I just about shit my pants that day,” Francois said, adding, “please excuse my French.” Ricardo smiled at the complement.



“That was quite a ride,” Benjamin added.



“And so now, we welcome Suzy.” The air immediately got thick again from the implied invitation. “What better way to get to know Suzy and her skills than for each of us to experience them personally.”



“No, wait,” Suzy blurted as she glanced around the room at her new colleagues. She couldn’t believe what Tom was about to ask her to do. “I…,” her voice faded.



“What Suzy means to say,” Benjamin interrupted, “is she hopes no one holds back because we are just meeting her. She was just sharing with me in the hallway how committed she is to meeting the standard of excellence in all she does.”



Suzy’s head spun. She knew Benjamin was just trying to help her keep her job. The only thing that would do that, however, would be her job performance.



“Just like the Francois’ feast and Ricardo’s drive, participation is optional but strongly encouraged,” Tom said. “Ricardo, you in?”



Suzy couldn’t have felt more awkward. She desperately hoped her new colleagues would give her a break and pass on this opportunity.



Ricardo looked lustfully at Suzy, mentally undressing her luscious body of the few clothes she had on. “Only taking a Lamborghini Veneno on a spin down the German autobahn would be a better invitation. Even that would be close. Since I see no Lamborghinis, then I won’t pass up the opportunity to take her for a spin,” he said with passion in his thick Latin accent. He instantly began to unbutton his starched white shirt.



Butterflies filled Suzy’s stomach; she felt faint from disbelief.



“Francois?” Tom asked. “Will you be joining Ricardo to enjoy the delicacies Suzy has to offer?”



Francois watched as Ricardo finished unbuttoning his shirt, peeling it way in preparation to enjoy the invitation at hand. Francois had enjoyed many orgies in Paris culinary circles. He understood the deep primal relationship throughout history between great food and great sex. “Wee,” he said. “How can I not with such beauty,” he said raising his hand with his fingertips all together to make his point. He began to unbutton his chef’s coat.



“And Annette?” he asked. “How about you?”



Suzy’s eyes got big as she whipped her head around in surprise. “Um, I don’t…”



“Sure you do,” Tom said. “I remember the Halloween party in college with your sorority friend. What was her name?”



“Candice,” Suzy answered, suddenly embarrassed by the admission. “But we were drunk,” she said in a weak attempt of dissuasion. “That was a long time ago.”



“And Candace always said you were the best she had,” Tom reminisced. “And as I recall, Candace got around.” Tom looked to Annette. “If Suzy was the best Candace experienced, and she was drunk, imagine what she could do for you fully sober,” Tom reasoned.



Annette was genuinely curious, especially with Suzy’s reputation now exposed. Annette had some recreational experiences in college with her own female friends. Even though she preferred the feel of a man inside of her, she had experienced how women know what makes other woman feel good in ways a man can never understand. With her work schedule, it had also been several weeks since she had sex. If Ricardo and Francois were going to have sex with Suzy, she might as well not miss out. “If she is as good as you say she is,” Annette answered.



“Your complete satisfaction is her greatest desire,” Tom said.



Benjamin began taking his coat off as a non-verbal answer to Tom’s imminent invitation. He had been lusting after Suzy ever since the moment she arrived, and especially since she emerged from the servant’s dressing quarters in her new uniform. He wouldn’t pass the only opportunity he might have to experience what Suzy was there to offer.



“Very well then,” Tom said with a broad smile. He enjoyed watching Suzy squirm at the predicament. “It looks like our introductions, orientation, audition and initiation are all being rolled into one glorious morning together. Let the fun begin! I want to make sure we remember this moment as deliciously as Francois’ meal and adventurously as Ricardo’s drive.”



Suzy realized she had a decision to make, not just for what was about to happen, but also for her employment. Benjamin’s coaching reverberated in her mind as she felt the bodies of her four colleagues begin to press in toward her, their eight hands helping themselves to caressing the smooth soft skin of her entire body. She felt the back of her bra suddenly unsnap, causing it to launch off in front of her. It was game time. Either they were about to fuck her brains out, as Ricardo put it, or she would take on her new role and fuck them for all they were worth.



Suzy reached up to take Ricardo’s head in her hands, running her fingers through his hair while pulling his lips to hers. His muscular bare chest pressed against her ample naked breasts. She moved her hands down the hard ripples of his abs and took hold of his belt buckle, quickly dismantling it before lowering his black slacks until they fell in a clump around his ankles. She gently bit his lip before stepping to her left to do the same for Francois, then Benjamin, before planting her thick lips on Annette’s while relieving her of her clothes. As she moved around the inner-circle to systematically disrobe her new colleagues, she felt the garter belt clips released from her own fishnet stockings before her tiny thong made its descent down her long legs to the floor. Cool air and warm hands immediately caressed her ass.

Suzy dropped to her knees in the middle of the tight circle of flesh. Three long shafts pressed in on her like spokes connecting to a hub. She hungrily took Ricardo’s eight-inch manhood into her mouth while grasping the other two with each hand. Her head and arms moved rhythmically together, as if choreographed to seduce the three men simultaneously. Her skills were rewarded with the harmonizing trio of men’s moans. Annette reached down to caress Suzy’s tits, while working her nipples between her fingers.



As Suzy felt Ricardo coming close to orgasm, she pulled off, turned to her right, and aimed her tongue toward Annette’s pussy while taking Ricardo and Benjamin’s dicks in her hands. Annette let out a gentle scream of delight as Suzy’s tongue commandeered her pussy. Annette’s petite tits pointed forward as her dark nipples tightened in response. Her body’s immediate response to Suzy’s skillful touch made her realize how long it had been and how desperate her body was for release. “Oh yes, oh yes,” Annette whispered. Ricardo joined in, his body melting from the attention.



Suzy seamlessly transitioned again to the right, letting her fingers pick up with Annette’s pussy where her mouth left off, taking hold of Benjamin’s dick in her mouth and in her other hand, Francois’ member aching for her touch. “Oh gawd, don’t stop, don’t stop,” Annette begged.



Ricardo joined in, “Son of a bitch! I was going to cum!”



“Not yet you’re not,” Suzy said as she briefly pulled off of Benjamin. “No one is done here until I’m done with you.” She dove forward again to consume the length of Benjamin’s dick. Benjamin was in agony of pleasure, feeling as if Suzy was drawing cum from every extremity of his body. Ricardo was desperate for relief and her touch. His dick throbbed, begging for release. Suzy skillfully continued until she felt Annette, Benjamin and Francois all close to cumming, before turning again. She dove forward to consume Francois’ member; he was ready to experience what the others had of her unrivaled oral affection. She took Ricardo’s and Benjamin’s dicks in her hands, pumping them with vigor. Suzy continued around the inner-circle, skillfully tormenting all four colleagues, keeping them at a desperate point of release. Like a Chinese acrobat, she kept the four plates of orgasms spinning, moving from one to the other, holding them suspended in blissful pleasure. She had all four where she wanted, determined to bring them to one simultaneous volcanic eruption.



Ricardo’s passion escalated and wanted to take control. “I’m ready to fuck this girl,” he said.



“Me too,” Francois said.



“We can’t all fuck her at the same time,” Benjamin said, eager for his turn.



“The hell we can’t,” Ricardo said. “I’m fucking her ass. Benjamin, you fuck her pussy, Francois gets her tits and Annette gets fucked by her tongue.”



Suzy couldn’t believe what she was hearing; the others were impressed with Ricardo’s quick ingenuity. They all wondered if his creativity came from experience or from fast driving reflexes. Maybe both.



Ricardo wasted no time to lie on his back on the floor in the middle of the circle. He instructed Suzy to lie on top of him, facing up, with her back against his chest. He ran his fingers across her drenched pussy to gather lubrication from her own juices, before pushing one, then two fingers deep into her ass as preparation. Suzy screamed from the pain and pressure.



“Shit!” she said.



“You like that?” Ricardo asked in his thick Latin accent.



“Shit!,” she repeated, conceding to his determination. Ricardo ran his fingers again across her pussy and returned them to her ass as final preparation before firmly taking each of her ass cheeks in his hands. He slowly slid her body down, guiding the opening of her ass toward his waiting firm dick for penetration. He had never seen an ass more beautiful for fucking, and wasn’t going to miss this opportunity.



“Son of a bitch!” she yelled as the head of his thick bulby penis penetrated her tight hole and pushed deep within her. Her body naturally leaned forward as a reflex, almost sitting up.



Ricardo pulled her shoulders back on top of him, forcing her to lie on her back as his penis continued its journey into her bowels. “Let’s go,” Ricardo said to the others. “This girl is begging to be fucked.”



Benjamin knelt down between their legs, and began to rub the glowing button of her clitoris before plunging his dick deep into her soaked pussy. Suzy’s entire abdomen felt packed with meat, as the two dicks began to simultaneously pump her ass and pussy. Her body ached. Francois immediate straddled her chest and placed his pulsating dick between her large breasts. He pushed her tits together, causing his member to disappear in her soft flesh. Keeping with the motion of the other two men, Francois began to fuck her large melons, well aware it would not be long until they would be covered in his warm cream.



Annette wasted no time to join the men’s assault on this newest member of the staff by lowering her already wet pussy toward Suzy’s mouth. “Finish me,” she said. “Drink every drop.” Suzy immediately obeyed, using her mouth and tongue to masterfully massage Annette’s pussy lips and love box while the men ravaged the rest of her body. “Oh fuck yes,” Annette complemented as she dropped her head back in delight. “Oh yes, yes!”



Tom watched in amazement as four people worked together to pillage Suzy’s body. “That’s how a staff work together to get something, or someone done,” he thought to himself. Even he hadn’t imagined Suzy taking four on at once. His own dick stood rock hard at attention, watching the staff fuck-fest. He looked forward to his turn, having her all to himself in his own quarters when his staff was finished with her.



“Oh fuck!” Ricardo yelled. It was impossible for his thick dick to last long under the crushing pressure of the tiny anal canal before erupting into her, especially after her oral and hand assault minutes before.



Ricardo’s announcement of his immanent orgasm pushed the other three past the point of no return. “Oh yes!” Annette screamed as her love box gushed, showering Suzy’s mouth and face with her sweet nectar. Suzy’s tongue and lips responded energetically to the taste of Annette’s honey. Annette dropped her head back, with moans of ecstasy, “Yes, Yes, YES!”



Suzy felt her own body beginning to surrender to the multiple penetrations. Her head swirled. It had been a long time since Suzy had experienced anal sex, and the first time to be taken by four people simultaneously. Nerves covering her body buzzed with sensory overload. “Oh gawd, oh gawd,” she whispered as Annette’s cum blanketed her tongue and taste buds. Suzy gasped for air. Her own orgasm began to sweep over her. Cold chills covered her body.



“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” Annette begged.



“Aaaauuuuuggggghhhhh!” Ricardo yelled as his thick cream unloaded into the deep crevices of her ass, further lubricating the increasing piston action of his dick. He pumped harder as their bodies slid easily on top of one another.



“Fuck yes!” Benjamin yelled in response, as his seed launched into her pussy. His head dropped back; his hips thrusting into her with determination. Wave after wave of heavy cum filled her, overflowing between her legs and onto Ricardo’s dick as it continued to pump her ass from beneath.



The passionate string of French explicatives added to the other pleasured sounds in the room as Francois’ dick shot a thick white stream across Suzy’s chest and neck, decorating Annette’s back in front of him. Load after load of his European milk poured from between her firm round breasts, impressively painting Suzy’s tits and Annette’s ass with a thick coat of white.



Suzy gasped for air, caught up in the irony that only a couple hours before, she begged her husband Mark to make love to her, and he rolled over disinterested. Yet now, three men and a woman she just met couldn’t get enough of her, consuming every inch of her exquisite body.



Tom watched as the five beautiful bodies wrapped around one another in passionate coordinated sex as if an elegant moving sculpture of fine art. Sweat dripped from their naked bodies, lubricating the smooth glide of their bodies sharing common penetration of Suzy in the center. The five voices moaned with a chorus of pleasure as their drenched bodies moved together in one giant flood of sexual release, before collapsing onto one another. None of them could believe what just happened, especially Suzy.



“The weekend is off to a nice start,” Tom said. “Everyone shower and change into a fresh uniform. Suzy, use the back elevator to meet me in my third floor quarters after you’ve cleaned up,” Tom instructed nonchalantly. “My plans for your morning have only just begun. It’s my turn to experience what should have been mine years ago,” Tom said with a satisfied smile.



The warm water of the pulsating shower felt good as it poured over and caressed Suzy’s body in the servant’s room shower. Annette showered comfortably next to her. Suzy’s body ached from being at the center of her first five-some, living up to the high expectation of fucking each person until they were completely spent and satisfied. Her colleagues were impressed with her. Truthfully, she had impressed herself. She knew Tom was now waiting for her in his private quarters.



Suzy remembered her college days, feeling desperate to feel Tom inside of her. Maybe if Tom had allowed her to fuck him back then, she would never have cheated with Mark. That was speculation, and it didn’t matter. For the pure physical enjoyment of no holds barred raw sex, she and Mark did cheat, again and again, behind Tom’s back. Now, all this luxury and Tom could have been hers if she had remained loyal. Instead, all this luxury and her body now belonged to Tom, and she had nothing to show for it. She began to realize her current predicament was a result of her infidelity years before. She paid for it then, she is paying for it now and would be paying for it in the foreseeable years ahead.



Suzy emerged from the elevator into the luxurious third-floor private living space. A large flat screen television was animated with images and sounds in the center of the spacious living room. At first she thought it was a porn video of an orgy in full swing, until she recognized it as a vivid recording of what had just taken place in the parlor minutes before.



“Amazing clarity and videography, isn’t it?” Tom asked as he walked toward her with a drink in his hand.



“You recorded it?” she asked surprised.



“My security cameras record every movement in the house. I’m fastidious these days about making sure nothing happens behind my back that I don’t know about or want.” His words landed hard on Suzy. “As I watch the clarity of this video, I am just realizing the new potential uses and opportunities these videos might provide.”



Suzy glanced at the passionate five-some on the screen in high definition as the three dicks and one pussy of her new colleagues ravished her body. In the heat of the unbridled sex, she heard her own words announce, “No one is done here until I’m done with you.”



“We just want to make sure these videos never accidentally end up in the wrong hands,” Tom said. “Unless of course, your family would like to invite me over to share home movies. I can see what happens in your home, and Mark can see what happens in mine.”



“You wouldn’t,” Suzy blurted forcefully in panic.



“Not with your continued full cooperation,” he answered, revealing another layer of his web spun to ensure her allegiance. Suddenly there was even more than the house, or money or marriage at risk.



Tom and Suzy didn’t leave the third-floor private quarters again until the completion of her first weekend shift that Sunday night. Benjamin regularly delivered food prepared by Francois to refuel their bodies, and Annette worked hard to keep the sheets and other linens fresh. In many ways it was reminiscent of their college days; in many ways everything was different. Suzy’s body ached and was spent from all the attention.



Chapter Four



After a month, Suzy began to accept the plight of her new weekend job. She resigned herself to its demanding expectations. She had no choice but to pay her debt. She was used to giving herself fully to anything, or anyone she had committed to. With all that was now at stake, she decided this would be no different. Tom took full personal advantage of her eager cooperation; he was also generous with her services for his houseguests. He enjoyed offering extravagant no-questions-asked intimate hospitality services for his dinner guests. Those who stayed the night had the opportunity to enjoy her company until morning; others simply enjoyed a little late-night entertaining before going home. Her services were available to men, women and couples. Tom had no problem occupying her the rest of her time each weekend.



Suzy arrived home late every Sunday night exhausted from the weekend demands. Marital tension still loomed in her marriage with Mark, but had softened from their fight a month before when she first started her job. Mark was always ready for her to be home Sunday nights. After carrying the solo-parent responsibilities all weekend, and getting ready to go back to work Monday morning, he was ready for some sexual release. Even though Suzy’s body ached, she felt obligated to accept Mark’s Sunday night advances in order to keep her secret and her marriage. She couldn’t tell Mark she wasn’t up to sex with him because she had been fucking Tom and his friends all weekend.



This Sunday night, a month into her job, things turned more precarious. After her obligatory homecoming fuck with Mark, Suzy rolled over fatigued onto the bed. She looked forward to sleeping in Monday morning. She lay unaffected as Mark’s thick white cum poured from between her legs. She was ready to go to sleep. She pulled the warm heavy covers around her.



“You’ll never guess who called me this weekend,” Mark whispered into her ear as he spooned next to her.



“”I’m too exhausted to even guess,” Suzy answered, disinterested.



“Tom. Tom Newhouse,” he said.



Suzy’s eyes immediately startled wide-awake in fear. “Really?” she faked calmly, attempting to sound unmoved. “What’s he up to?” she asked.



“CEO of some big personal investment firm,” he answered.



“Why did he call? What did he want?” Suzy asked, genuinely curious.



“He invited me over for a guy’s poker night on Saturday,” he answered. “One of their usual guys can’t make it and they need someone to fill in.”



Suzy’s heart raced. “That’s too bad you can’t go it since I will be at work,” she attempted, leaving out the detail that her job was at Tom’s house. “You need to be here with the kids.”



“I thought I’d call the babysitter,” he said, with a plan already thought out. “Like you said, you’ll be working. The kids will be in bed. I’ll be free. It will be good for me to get out of the house with some guys. Who knows, maybe I’ll win enough money from Tom to use his wealth to pay off some of our debts.” The irony in Tom’s words was painful.



“I don’t know,” Suzy said. “We can’t afford to lose money at a poker game,” hoping to discourage him from accepting the invitation.



“Another reason to go,” Mark said. “Tom said he felt badly for how things ended with our friendship years ago, and wanted to make it up. He said he would even spot me the $2000 to get in the game. I only have to pay him back if I have it at the end of the game.”



Suzy felt paralyzed. She couldn’t believe Tom would invite Mark over when she would be at the house, and entice him to come by spotting him $2000! What was he thinking? What was he doing? She was too exhausted to think clearly to come up with a reason to say no. “Can we talk about it more in the morning?” she asked.



“Sure,” he said, as he put his arm around his spent wife. “Sweet dreams.”



Suzy’s body was desperate for sleep, but her mind was now doing cartwheels. When she did doze off out of sheer exhaustion, she would jolt awake in fear after only a few minutes. Mark’s announcement of Tom’s invitation prevented any deep sleep, let alone sweet sleep. “Damn him,” she thought. “Damn him.”



In the morning, Suzy still couldn’t make a case to prevent Mark from accepting Tom’s poker invitation. Mark argued that she would never know if he went or not, because the game was scheduled while she was away at work. It was impossible for Mark to know how wrong he was, and that Suzy would be right there watching his every move. Suzy felt paralyzed in shock at the thought of being discovered by Mark dressed in her skimpy uniform, there to perform as expected. She desperately wanted to call Tom to ask what he was thinking when he invited Mark over? What the fuck was he doing putting everything at risk?



Mark called Tom Monday morning to accept the invitation for the guys’ night of poker. Tom queried if Suzy was OK with Mark coming over Saturday evening. Mark explained that she didn’t seem too happy, but it didn’t matter since she would be gone at her new job all weekend. Tom smiled deviously at the news. He could only imagine how awkward the conversation between Mark and Suzy would have been for Suzy.



“I’m so glad you can come Saturday night,” Tom said genuinely. “It will be great to catch up.”



“I’m looking forward to it,” Mark said. “Thanks for thinking of me to fill in. It will also be great to get out with some guys.”



“Definitely that,” Tom said. “In fact, I need to let you know there’s a twist on our poker night that takes it to a whole other level. I actually call it our guys’ ‘poke-her’ night,” Tom said, spelling out p-o-k-e-h-e-r. “The ‘her’ is a talented woman who makes sure every man leaves happy.”



“What do you mean?” Mark asked.



“We play poker like always, five card draw. The only twist is we make the queen of hearts a wild card. The queen of hearts becomes anything you want her to be. Not only that, but anytime you win a hand with the queen of hearts, you get the money and the girl.”



“Win the girl?”



“I mean she becomes yours. Like the card, she will become anything you want her to be and do anything you want her to do. Her best skill is her willingness to gladly fuck your brains out any way you want until someone else wins a hand with a queen of hearts, or until you are so spent you are ready to get back into the game.”



“You’re kidding me,” he said stunned.



“On the contrary,” Tom promised. “I am barely scratching the surface. She will blow your mind, and the mind of every man there, guaranteed.”



That’s amazing, Mark said. Where’d you find her?”



“The amazing thing is she found me,” Tom said. “She’s insatiable. I have a hard time keeping up with her. I’ve never had a better fuck.”



“I don’t know,” Mark said. “I mean, I’ve never cheated on Suzy.”



“Yeah, you’ve only cheated with Suzy,” Tom wanted to say, but held back.



“It’s not cheating,” Tom said instead. “It’s not like your having an affair, carrying on a relationship with another woman.” Mark had no idea how true Tom’s words were; she wasn’t another woman, the woman was his wife. “You’d just be enjoying your winnings at a guys poker night with no strings attached. How would Suzy ever know?” Tom’s words were as devious and deceptive.



“I don’t know,” Mark said mulling over the invitation.



“Come on Mark. You already told Suzy you’re coming, don’t back out now. You said she is out working anyway. Treat yourself to some fun. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. You also have nothing to lose. I’m the only one that can lose here, putting up $2000 to get you in the game. You have everything to win, with no risk. It will be like college days. Don’t let me down.”



“Ok,” Mark said. “I’m in.”



“Awesome,” Tom said. “Get ready for a great night that will rock your world.”

Saturday arrived quickly for Suzy, but slowly for Mark in their mutual anticipation for the night’s poker game. Suzy felt sheer panic; Mark was secretly excited. He chose not to let Suzy know about Tom’s little twist on an otherwise standard evening of poker.



Suzy arrived at the house as usual, early that Saturday morning, for her weekend job. She was livid and eager to speak with Tom. Benjamin informed her that Tom would be out of the house most of the day on business. However, he had arranged for a professional theater makeup artist to meet with her during the afternoon to make some enhancements in preparation for the night’s epic card game. The artist would be adding makeup putty to reshape her nose and other features, and then apply a thick masquerade of makeup. They would then spend an hour attaching a professional black wig to complete her disguise. In short, Suzy would be transformed in a way that would fool her own husband, even if he were close enough for her to fuck. Tom delighted in the thought of Mark cheating on his own wife, by unknowingly fucking her. Suzy realized she had no other options but to go along.



Benjamin set up the large game room on the first level of the house. An impressive felt-covered oak game table was set in the middle of the room with a small sports chandelier hanging over it. Wall sconces dimly lit the rest of the room. A large flat screen television blared a college football game as background noise. A large leather couch sat prominently at one end of the room, a small bed at the other. Francois prepared elaborate snacks far beyond customary fare for a poker game, but customary for Tom’s penchant to go over the top in everything he did. His three guests arrived promptly at 7:00 pm.



“Welcome!” Benjamin said, as he greeted the three men for the evening. Benjamin ushered them to the game room. Dave and Carl had been to the house many times for these poker games, but this was the inaugural game with the “poke-her” twist. The idea originated a couple months before when they were all inebriated at one of their usual games. They thought it would be a great way to spice things up. Dave, Carl and their other usual player Sam never imagined Tom might actually find a way to do it. Tonight he had, and Dave and Carl were ready.



Dave was an all-around nice guy, but uncanny in his intelligence. The tall Irish man with translucent blue eyes loved playing basketball in his spare time, most often pick-up games in his neighborhood. He had worked at the company longer than Tom and had a deep admiration for his young boss. Tom trusted him implicitly.



Carl was a former star college football player whose injuries his senior year kept him out of the pros. He now dedicated himself to applying his competitive instincts in the financial industry. His physical stature was like a muscular wall standing six foot seven, with an unusually thick neck, bulging arms and legs like tree trunks. His broad smile and boisterous personality had a way of lighting up a room. When Carl walked in, everyone knew the party had arrived.



Mark was astonished by the lavish extravagance of everything: the mansion, the elegant décor, the professional staff, the aroma of food, and the audacious guys’ poke-her night, complete with a promised gorgeous girl who would gladly satisfy any request. Mark felt intimidated and overwhelmed by it all, but was bold and frustrated enough to indulge a little in how the other half live. The three men helped themselves to options from and array of cold kegs and hot snacks prepared by Francois.



“Welcome,” Tom said. “So glad you could each join us for our inaugural poke-her night,” he added, using his fingers to make quote marks in the air at the phrase “poke-her.”



Dave and Carl laughed at the announcement. “Damn right,” Carl said. “I can’t believe you pulled this off,” he said.



“You know better than to doubt anything I set my mind to,” Tom said. “Let’s get this game started, shall we?”



“Where’s the girl?” Dave said, unashamed. “I want to see who we are playing for.”



“Have a seat,” Tom said, “and I’ll send her in.”



As the men sat down, Benjamin opened the door for Suzy’s entrance. The three men gasped at her beauty. She wore her customary uniform. Her sultry walk across the room instantly mesmerized all three men. Suzy’s heart raced as she glanced at Mark. She feared he would somehow recognize her. She was glad for the dimly lit room, other than the bright light over the elaborate card table. She worked to stay focused on teasing all of Tom’s evening guests with seductive looks. She ran the fingers of her hand over the men’s shoulders as she circled the table.



“That will be all Benjamin,” Tom called out. “I will let you know if we need anything more.” Benjamin closed the door behind him as he exited the room, leaving Suzy alone with the four men.



“Gentlemen,” Tom continued. “I see you approve.”



“Damn,” Dave said. “She is more beautiful than I imagined.”



“You haven’t seen anything yet. Real beauty is not just to be seen, but to be experienced. She will gladly replenish your food and drinks through the evening, unless of course, she is otherwise occupied by one of us.”



“I’m going to like this,” Carl said.



“Help yourself to touch anything that is not covered. However, like all great rewards, the real prize has to be earned,” Tom said. “We’re playing a simple five card draw, aces high and $200 ante. Tonight, the only difference is the queen of hearts is also wild.” Tom held a queen of hearts card up to make his point. “Any hand that you win with a queen of hearts means you win the money and the girl,” Tom said. “Winning with the queen of hearts means you win this queen of hearts,” Tom announced slapping Suzy on the ass. “Let me tell you, just like the card, this queen of hearts is wild.”



The men cheered with shouts and playful primal grunts. Tom instructed Suzy to strut around the table to entice the men for what they were ultimately playing for. “The moment you win a hand with a queen of hearts, she is yours. She will gladly reward you by doing anything you want. Let me just say that you can’t out-sex her. People have tried. There is no limits to what she is capable of, so don’t hold back.” His words were as much instruction for Suzy as they were an invitation to the men.



Natural instinct caused the three other men, to look at Suzy’s face for her response to Tom’s bold invitation. Suzy smiled. “Bring it,” she said with an attempt to disguise her voice with a seductive tone. Carl and Dave cheered, impressed by Tom at a whole new level. Mark felt out of his league; he had never experienced anything like this.



Tom slid the card bearing the queen of hearts in the center of the deck. “Time to cut the cards and play gentlemen.” He threw two $100 chips into the center of the table. The three men matched his bet.



Carl and Dave took generous liberties to caress and handle any bare skin whenever Suzy got close. She kept replenishing their beers and snacks, putting her within easy reach of their touch. Suzy secretly felt relief and some pride that Mark didn’t reach out to touch or handle her when she got close. Maybe he would stay loyal and keep his focus on the cards.



Dave failed miserably at hiding the fact the first queen of hearts card of the game showed up in his hand. He had another queen, but nothing else. He increased his bet, only to have Tom call. Tom’s pair of kings beat him out of the money and the girl.



“Damn it Tom!” Dave said in jest. “I’m ready to fuck this girl.”



“Looks like you’ll have to do better than a pair of queens then,” Tom said. “Anticipation will just make you appreciate her all the more.”



The men chided Dave and laughed. Suzy felt a relief from the temporary delay; but she knew it wouldn’t be long. Every game without a queen of hearts in play escalated the suspense. All four men had begun to experience the buzz of alcohol and enjoyment of smack talk with each hand. A cloud of pure Cuban cigar smoke from Tom and Dave hovered over the table.



Carl smiled a broad grin when he picked up the five cards dealt to him a half an hour into the game. It was the hand he had been waiting for. Carl held two aces, a seven, a nine and the renowned queen of hearts. He raised the bet by $50 and traded in for two cards, which were just as worthless as the two he gave up. With bets and cards completed, Carl dropped his three aces on the table, using the wild card. He taunted the other three men as his pile of chips returned to its original size and more importantly, he became the first to win the ultimate prize.



“Well, well, well,” Tom said with a big smile, glad for his friend’s success.



“Gentlemen,” Carl said as he stood up, reminding the others of the sheer size of his frame. Suzy’s eyes got big when she saw the massive wall of a man rise from the table. “I’m going to leave you to your cards while I enjoy my prize over here. I wish you well.”



“Let’s go lover,” Suzy invited with a façade of willing seduction. Suzy knew she would need to act in a way so unlike her usual behavior to dispel any suspicions of her identity by Mark. At the same time, Suzy resigned herself to what was about to happen, and even wondered if everything on Carl’s body might be in proportion to his enormous tall wide frame.



Dave and Mark couldn’t help glancing through the semi-dark room to get glimpses of Carl enjoying his prize. They envied him. They wondered how much would be left of her after his sheer size was done with her.



Suzy reached up to begin to take Carl’s shirt off. She was impressed that he was still as muscular as he was big, even though it had been a few years since he played professional football. “So, did you win the prize or did I?” Suzy flattered as she yanked his pants down to the floor. Her wondering about the size of his dick being in proportion to the rest of his body was immediately answered. Seeing his big thick black cock up close gave the appearance of being almost as long and hard as a baseball bat. She had never seen anything like it. “I don’t know what you want from me, but I know what I want from you,” Suzy said, surprising Carl by her forwardness.



“What’s that?” he asked.



“I want to see what this bad boy is capable of,” she said with a sly smile.



“Holy shit,” Carl said as he watched her drop to her knees and attempt to take the entire length of his impressive member down her white throat. She gagged at first, but persevered until his dick disappeared down her relaxed esophagus like a sword in a sheath. Her skill was beyond anything that even Carl had ever experienced. “Oh fuck!” he yelled, half overwhelmed, half boasting so the other men could hear.



Suzy continued her relentless assault. If given the choice, she decided she would rather take control. She knew how to do it in a way that caused any man to surrender, no matter their size. The bigger they are, the harder they might fall.



“Shit, shit, shit!” Carl yelled as floodwaters of cum instantly began to be siphoned from deep within him. He pulled his pulsating bat from her mouth and stood her up. He quickly removed her bra as her hands kept up their assault on his long shaft. He slid her thong down her long tanned legs, baring her wet pussy. “You want to see what this bad boy is capable of, then I’ll show you,” he promised. He laid her back on the bed and aimed his throbbing dick toward the ultimate prize.



“Oh fuck,” Suzy screamed as his thick long dick penetrated her captive pussy.



The remaining men around the table suddenly found their interest in the brightly lit card game paling in comparison to the sounds and movements coming from the dark end of the room. They each grew eager for a queen of hearts to show up in their hand.



Carl pulled back briefly only to push more deeply into her. Cold chills covered Suzy’s body from the ecstasy and pain of being drilled at depths she had never experienced. Her body convulsed under the weight of his warm body. His dick massaged every millimeter of her molten hot pussy. She was no longer in control.



“Oh yes! Oh yes!” Suzy cried. She felt Carl consume one of her firm round breasts into his mouth, tormenting her tender nipple. “Is that all you have?” she teased. “Fuck me harder,” she begged.



Carl responded by pounding his body into her. His pre-cum mixed with her soaked pussy to lubricate the hot friction of his action as he relentlessly drilled her into the soft bed.



Suzy skillfully pushed him over onto his back while anchoring his long dick deep inside of her. She straddled his body with her legs while riding him as if galloping on a horse. She leaned over on top of him, crushing her soft melons into his chest. “I’ll show you what a real fucking is,” she promised as she allowed her body to be completely impaled by his impressive member. Every muscle within her took hold of him as she ascended and descended the long pole. “I’ll stop when I’m done,” she said, retaking control, no matter how many times it makes you cum inside of me.”



Suzy’s bold talk sent Carl over the edge. “Oh fuck!” he cried out, no longer able to hold back. What felt like a quart of thick cum pushed up the length of his dick like a fire hose pushing water through a drinking straw. A tidal wave of thick cum flooded into her voracious pussy. Sweat covered their bodies from the sheer heat of the sexual storm. Carl realized Suzy’s taunting words were not empty rhetoric or threats. Her sexual torrent was being unleashed on him.



Suzy’s body succumbed in response to his. She screamed as her pussy gushed with her first orgasm of the night, drenching Carl’s dick. She used him as a sex toy, draining every drop she could, as he lay helpless. Suzy felt Carl’s body begin to melt into the soft bed. He was spent and exhausted. Everything Tom had said about her was true, and the night was still young.



“I’m not done with you,” she taunted in his ear. “Are you a quitter? All that fucking made me thirsty. I’m taking you again.”



Carl moaned as he felt both of her hands take hold of his still semi-hard member. His dark black shaft was painted in white from the mixture of their cum. He felt her warm moist lips surround the head of his penis before she consumed him again. She savored the flavors of cum coating her tongue and throat. She devoured him for more. She slowly worked the length of his dick, allowing her lips and tongue to skillfully massage every inch. The size of his meat grew involuntarily inside her mouth, filling her again, and intensifying his sensitivity to her oral assault. Over and over she scaled and descended his length. His body wriggled under her.



“Oh gawd, you’re going to take me again,” he said. The other men envied the action Carl was getting. With all the women Carl had been with, he had never experienced anyone like this. Carl’s words only served to encourage Suzy’s determination. She was thirsty for him. Nothing would stop her from taking him again.



“Oh fuck, oh fuck, here it comes!” he yelled. Deep down Suzy took satisfaction from feeling his dick thicken with impending eruption, until finally her mouth filled with the first serving of his warm delicious cream. Her lips insatiably pumped him for more, drawing every drop down her parched throat. Carl grew dizzy, the room spinning faster and faster as if he were on a whirling merry-go-round. His body quaked until she finally released him. She sat up victorious on his spent body, drops of his cum escaping down her chin and onto her large tits.



“Read them and weep!” Tom shouted, as he dropped the queen of hearts on to the table across the room.



Suzy was still catching her breath, sitting on top of Carl who lay completely drained. She realized there would be no reprieve for her tonight. Every time the queen of hearts would be played, so would she.



Mark watched as Tom took his turn in the shadows of the room to claim his prize, while Carl returned to the card table. Dave’s turn came twenty minutes later when he used the queen of hearts to win, and then walked across the room to enjoy his earned reward. Mark couldn’t help noticing that each man returning from his prize looked blissfully shell-shocked. The beer continued to flow at the card table; the cum continued to flow in, on and around the gorgeous mystery woman.



“Damn she’s good,” Carl said, seeing the satisfied look on Tom’s face as he returned to the table and dealt the next hand.



“I’m telling you,” Tom agreed, “there is none better.” Moans began to emanate again from the side of the room, as Dave became the next to fall under Suzy’s intoxicating spell. Suzy could tell Dave wasn’t going to last long. He almost filled his pants the moment she walked into the room an hour and a half earlier. His dick had been hard since then, torturously waiting for his turn while Carl and Tom had their way with her first. Suzy was so convincing that Dave actually believed she had never enjoyed a better piece of meat.



The whole experience felt surreal for Mark. He was playing poker in a dimly lit room of a lavish mansion owned by his old college roommate who he hadn’t seen in years. In addition to the unlimited beer and food, men were helping themselves to one of the most gorgeous women Mark had ever seen. In a funny way, she even looked a little like Suzy. Mark enjoyed the buzz from the beer, but also strangely grateful for the seemingly serendipitous carnal night out. He deserved it. If Suzy decided to be away every weekend at some lame new job, there was nothing wrong with him taking a few hours to play poker with some guys. After seeing the look from each man returning from this amazing woman, Mark began to look forward to his turn with the queen of hearts.



“Mark, you’re the only one who hasn’t been over there yet,” Tom teased loudly enough for Suzy to hear. “You need to step up your card game.”



Suzy shuttered at the thought of Mark coming over with the risk of being discovered by her husband. Butterflies of nerves filled her gut, in addition to more cum than she had ever swallowed in such a short amount of time.



“Yeah,” Mark said, “I want to, but…”



Suzy felt a sudden hope that Mark might turn down the opportunity to enjoy the evening’s illicit sexual rewards. His hesitation was ironic considering he had unknowingly been watching strange men have continuous raw sex with his wife. She didn’t have a choice to fuck these men; but Mark had a choice to fuck a woman he had no idea was actually his wife. The temptation was all the more enticing and difficult to resist because the other men in the room all returned to the table mesmerized by her lascivious skills.



“What do you mean that you ‘want to, but?’” Tom interrupted. “The point is that you want to. That’s all that matters. We’re here to have fun. Whether you fuck her or not, no one outside this room will ever know what happens here tonight.” Mark had no way to know the one person he would want keep the secret from was the very person in disguise fucking the other men in the room for all they were worth.



Mark picked up his cards. His heart raced with suspense to see the queen of hearts staring back at him from his hand. The card was flanked by the ten, jack, queen and king of spades. The chances of being dealt this almost perfect poker hand was near to impossible, except that Tom had been waiting all night to deal it to him. He set Mark up to make a decision. The whole night had actually gone exactly as Tom had planned, as most things in his life do. Tom watched for what Mark would do given the opportunity to cheat on his wife with a woman touted by every other man in the room as the best they had ever had.



“I’ll raise $100,” Mark said with a calm voice and poker face.



“Someone’s confident,” Carl said, “but I’m in. I think you’re bluffing.”



“Me too,” Tom said to add to the suspense, knowing full well that Mark cards could change his life.

“So, how’s it going with Suzy these days?” Tom asked nonchalantly as the suspense of the card game intensified.



Suzy strained to hear how Mark would answer, as Dave moved his dick down toward her body with purpose. His eight inches quickly disappeared deep her infamous pussy.



Mark was surprised that Tom would ask such a personal question in the middle of a poker game, but somehow understood his interest with their history. “Um, actually going through a tough spell right now,” he confessed honestly, “but we’ll be OK.”



“Sorry to hear that,” Tom lied. “This is the perfect night for you to be here then. I guarantee that when you win with the queen of hearts, that woman over there will make you feel better about everything.”



Mark glanced over to the activity across the room, as Dave’s moans got louder. The vice grip of Suzy’s love muscles around Dave’s dick promised sure results.



“In fact, she’ll do anything Suzy won’t do in the bedroom,” Tom promised. “What is one thing you always wanted to do to Suzy that she won’t let you?”



“That’s none of your business,” Mark said.



Suzy felt shocked by Tom’s question, but reassured again at Mark’s response. Dave continued to pound her canal, ready to bathe her with his cum from the inside out.



“True,” Tom said. “I was just thinking, that given the chance, you might as well make the most of what this woman will do — and blow your mind doing it.”



Suzy knew what Mark’s fantasy was, and the line she had drawn in the bedroom. She couldn’t believe Tom was attempting to erase that line. Tom liked to control everything else, now he was attempting to control what happened in her bedroom.



“So, what’s going to be your prize tonight?” Tom needled.



“I’m going to fuck her in the ass,” Mark blurted.



Suzy gasped when she heard Mark’s answer, just as Dave overflowed her pussy with what felt like a liter of thick cum. “Aaauuuugggghhhh!” Dave yelled. He pounded his throbbing member into her, determined to fill her with as much of his virulent seed as possible. “Yes, Yes, YES!” Dave repeated in ecstasy.



Mark smiled as he dropped his royal flush on the table, the queen of hearts acting like an ace of spades. He pulled the pile of chips toward him, then handed Tom two thousand worth.



“Keep them for now,” Tom insisted. “Let’s see what you have at the end of the night. For now, it is enough for me to see you claim your prize,” Tom said.



Dave and Mark passed each other as they traded places in the room. Mark felt a nervous excitement. The mystery woman stood up to hungrily greet her unsuspecting husband. Her gorgeous naked body was sore from continuous sex with three men; penetrated in almost every way. She dutifully began to undress him. Cold chills covered her body. She realized her husband was choosing to cheat on her, and she was there to make sure it was memorable.



“What do you want, Lover?” she risked asking in a disguised seductive voice.



“I want to fuck you in the ass,” he repeated in a soft, even respectful tone.



Suzy knelt down in front of him and began to orally prepare her husband for his first ass-fucking. She resigned herself to the fact that Mark had been watching her fuck complete strangers all night, the least she could do is offer her own unsuspecting husband the gift of her ass to fulfill his fantasy.



“Oh gawd, you are good,” he said, noticing her oral technique rivaling that of his own wife.



Seeing her up close, the woman continued to look strikingly familiar to Mark. He figured she just had common features that made people uncommonly gorgeous, like Suzy. He looked down to watch her take his entire length into her mouth. As she did, she looked up for a split second to catch his eyes looking at hers, capturing an immediate intimate connection. He had seen her look up at him with her compassionate eyes many times when taking his dick in her mouth. Suzy instantly diverted her eyes to avoid more contact. If the eyes are the windows to the soul, then in a strange way, her soul remarkably reminded him of Suzy. Even her unique oral skills emulated those of his wife. It was surreal and heavenly. Suzy’s heart raced at the fear of being exposed. She responded by treating his dick ravenously in her mouth.



“Oh yes,” he said, fully appreciating the skills that had taken the other men before him. Any fleeting thoughts that this woman might be his wife softly dissipated into a cloud of aroused dizziness from her oral affection. Flashes of logic dispelled the ludicrous thought that this woman might be Suzy: Suzy was at work; Suzy had blond hair; Suzy looked similar but different; Suzy had a wedding ring; Suzy would never willingly allow a room full of strange men to use her any way they wanted as a poker prize. He couldn’t deny however that the similarities of this woman to Suzy made him more aroused. It was almost as if he were cheating with Suzy’s sister, if only she had one.



Suzy could feel that her oral skills were working well, as they always did. Suspense mixed with arousal. She continued to massage the length of his dick with her mouth and one hand, while reaching her other hand down to her pussy. She pushed three fingers deep into her love box to collect cum left there by the other men, transporting the warm white mixture to her ass as lubrication in preparation oto fulfill Mark’s fantasy. Her middle finger entered her anus first, followed by her index finger. She winced at the initial pain. She knew the width of her two slender fingers was nowhere near the size of Mark’s well-endowed member, but like drilling a hole in a wall before securing a screw, it would help to blaze a path. She repeated the actions for added lubrication. It was time to make his dream come true.



Suzy stood up just long enough to turn around and bend over, with her white fit ass pointing up at him. Her long tan legs stood straight and tall in her high heels, each leg flanking a corner of the bed for support. She gathered the two large soft pillows to bury her face in. Suzy reached her hands back and pulled her small ass cheeks apart. Her ass and pussy lay open, bare and ready before him, framed in her black lace garter belt and fishnet stockings.



“Anything you see there Lover Boy that you want to fuck?” she asked in her sultry disguised voice.



Mark immediately pushed the large purple tip of his hard readied dick against the entrance of her lubricated anus. Suzy tried hard to relax in anticipation of his penetration.



“Fuck me, damn it,” she insisted. “Fuck my ass.”



Suzy and Mark both screamed in unison from the pain and pleasure of his entrance. Inch by inch, Mark pushed his dick deeper into her tight canal. With each advance, Suzy’s muscles clamped down like a vice grip around him, until his pelvis pressed against her soft ass. Mark caressed the soft skin of her long toned legs before gripping her ass cheeks in his hands. He savored the bliss of the entirety of his long dick buried deep within her bowels.



“Oh shit!” Mark yelled as he slowly pulled back, withdrawing his dick half way from her ass before fully reinserting himself into her. He moved back and forth, gradually increasing his speed with each pass. Mark and Suzy worked together to develop a sultry rhythm as if they shared an intimate connection. Mark would not be able to last long under the intense pressure of her rear love canal constricted around his dick.



“Fuck me! Yes, fuck me!” she begged. Mark fucking her in the ass made Suzy somehow feel better about what was happening. Ironically, Mark was struggling with the mixed emotions of sheer pleasure and guilt. However, the guilt of fucking a stranger in the ass was no match for the sheer drunken sexual pleasure of how hot this moment was, taking this gorgeous woman in a way his own wife wouldn’t allow.



“Oh fuck, I’m going to cum!” Mark announced. Every inch of his body buzzed from the impending orgasm. His movements in and out of her ass picked up speed. He couldn’t help leaning more heavily against her for support as his head spun in dizzying chaos. His throbbing dick felt tenderized by her ass.



“Aaauuuggghhh, fuck YES!” Mark yelled, unconcerned about the other men in the room, or any staff who might hear him in the far reaches of the large mansion. Pools of his globular cum further lubricated the walls of her ass, before pouring out and down her long perfect legs.



“Ah yes, ah yes!” she yelled, pushing her ass back further, as if begging for more.



Mark pounded her ass until he struggled to stand from his first ass fuck. “Sheeeiiiiittt!” he yelled as he pulled his cum-covered dick from her tiny spent ass.



Suzy immediately turned around and dropped to her knees in front of him. Her ass ached from the affectionate abuse. She took his semi-hard dick into her mouth and began cleaning it of his cum and more. “I’m not done,” she said, briefly pulling off of him, only to return in her determined pursuit to take him again.



Mark turned and fell back on the bed. Suzy refused to let go. She dove forward, allowing his dick to impale her mouth and throat, thirsty for what she could get from him. Her fake black hair blanketed his stomach. On their best nights of sex, she prided herself on her ability to take him multiple times. She decided it would be no different tonight.



Suzy went after him, sucking on his shaft as if it were the sole source of air on a sinking ship. Mark reached his hands out to grip the end of the bed. He couldn’t imagine this woman being able to get more from him in the moment, but also somehow knew that if anyone could, it would probably be her. It was another way she seemed so much like Suzy. He surrendered to her determined assault as the next orgasm was summoned from deep within him.



“Oh yes, oh yes,” he affirmed. “You are going to take me again!”



His words only encouraged Suzy to take again what rightly belonged to her.



“Oh gawd, oh gawd, here it comes!” he announced, just as his familiar warm dessert poured into his wife’s hungry mouth. She continued her tenacious affection until she secured every drop before his body surrendered.



The night was still young for the four men, and for Suzy. The queen of hearts danced through the cards in a way that kept Suzy busy until the game finally finished at 2:00 am. Mark returned the $1500 in chips to Tom, and somehow felt OK for the shortfall, knowing Tom finished the game more than $1000 ahead of when he started. He got all his money back and more.



Tom, of course, didn’t care about the money. It meant nothing to him. Money couldn’t buy the satisfaction of watching Suzy use her gorgeous body all night to convince these four men she wanted nothing more than to be taken by them, while her husband naïvely cheered her on.



Money couldn’t buy the sheer orgasmic satisfaction of fucking Suzy behind Mark’s back, while in plain sight in front of him.



Money couldn’t buy the front row seat to watch his old roommate Mark cheat on his own wife, by unknowingly fucking her every way he wanted, including ways she never allowed in their own bedroom.



Money couldn’t buy the look on Suzy’s face when Carl asked if he could stay the night rather than attempting to drive home drunk, and Tom’s generous response to not only offer a room, but also Suzy’s services for the rest of the night.



Money couldn’t buy the sex tapes Tom now had of both of them cheating on the other.



And most priceless for Tom, money couldn’t buy the satisfaction of watching Suzy and Mark each accrue secrets they would keep from the other for the rest of their lives. Of course Suzy already knew Mark’s sleazy secrets, but she was trapped with them. The moment she exposed him, she would expose her own more sordid acts.



Epilogue



Carl slept in late the next morning, or least he decided there was no reason to hurry out of bed. He had nowhere more enticing to go than deep inside the gorgeous naked woman laying asleep next to him in the spacious king size bed in the center of the luxurious guestroom. He continued to be surprised and delighted for her seemingly insatiable appetite for sex.



Every inch of Suzy’s body ached from the continuous sex over the last 16 hours. Her job required it from her due to the enormous debt hanging over her head. Her marriage and future depended on her exceeding expectations. She realized Carl’s last impression that morning would be what he talked to Tom about when he left. Of all the performing she did the night before, the morning finale would be what Carl remembered.



Suzy disappeared beneath the soft thick sheets in response to Carl’s request for a morning fuck. She engulfed his long black meat into her mouth, pushing its length down her throat. Carl was immediately reminded of her well-honed oral skills. His large muscular body relished her touch. “Oh, yes!” he moaned. Suzy massaged the length of his shaft, turning her head as she ascended and descended the long pole. “Oh, yes!” Carl repeated.



Suzy slowly slid her body forward, pressing her pelvis into his until finally impaling herself on top of him. She slowly began to ride his body, as if savoring each inch of her ascent and descent of his long member. She skillfully gauged her speed by watching Carl’s face, gradually increasing her pace until finally riding as a jockey on the final stretch of the Preakness.



“Oh, shit, oh shit!” he yelled, lost in the rapture of being taken by this unrivaled vixen. It felt as if every muscle in her body was gripped around his long shaft. Her movements were assertive and determined. Carl’s body was covered in sweat; his face glowed with pleasure. He delighted in watching her tan white body pound him, with her large firm tits bouncing freely above him. He was sure he woke up in heaven.



Suzy could feel that Carl was ready to unload deep into her. She leaned down and begged, “fuck my tits. Drench me in your cum.” Suzy immediately rolled over onto the bed next to him and pushed Carl on top of her. Carl’s body writhed with imminent eruption. Suzy cupped each tit with her hands. “Hurry, fuck them,” she begged. “I want to swim in your cum.”



Her words and the feel of his long shaft buried in her soft ample pale tits sent Carl into nirvana. Suzy pressed her tits harder against his dick as Carl’s body moved back and forth over her, his dick gliding in her breasts. “Oh fuck!” he yelled as a wide thick load of his seed painted a path from her breasts, across her neck and onto her face.



“Yes!” Suzy shouted. “Yes!” Her tongue reached out of her mouth to lap up the warm breakfast cream from across her lips. Just as she did, another river of cum flowed from his long shaft, across her body. “Yes, yes,” she screamed.



Carl’s body moved with force over her. He dizzily leaned back from the orgasmic release, further coating her body with the hot lotion. Spray after spray of his warm elixir poured over her. Suzy had never been blanketed by so much cum from one man. As the final drops of white gold gushed from his body, she instinctively leaned forward to take him again into her mouth, ravenously siphoning him for more.



“Oh shit!” Carl repeated. He thought he was done. He thought he was spent. He thought he was in control. His head spun; he was too dizzy to think clearly.



Suzy rolled him over and slid her cum-coated face down the length of his long dark pole. The only thing she loved more than taking a man a second time was when a man took her a second time. There was nothing better then when it happened simultaneously. In college it happened frequently with Tom, in marriage with Mark, and this morning it would be Carl. First orgasms are easy; coaxing the second seduces the primal core, igniting every nerve ending throughout a person’s body. When she was finished with him, he would be like hot butter melting in her hands.



Carl’s felt lost in rapture. His body hummed from the combination of the morning’s hangover and seduction. Her thick lips zealously consumed his impressive member, causing the room to spin faster. The molten lava of cum began its ascent toward eruption. Suzy’s concaved feminine cheeks showed the force of her suction on his dick, guaranteeing every drop of his second load to be captured down her thirsty throat.



Suzy reached her right hand down her body to finger her soaked love box as she continued her affectionate assault on Carl. She moaned as her body responded to her familiar touch, quickening her pleasure zones awake. She anchored her mouth on his dick as she swung her body around, so her knees straddled his head and her pussy hovered over his face.



Carl’s large naked body convulsed beneath her in anticipation of the impending orgasm. His long arms reached across the bed to take hold of whatever he could to secure himself from the dizzying wave. “Damn!” he yelled. Euphoria swept over him as thick bullets of cum shot from him with semi-automatic repetition. Cold chills dotted the landscape of his surrendered body. With every release, his body quaked with greater seismic impact.



Right on cue, Suzy’s middle finger pressed into her clit, applying the perfect pressure to send her over the blissful edge as Carl’s body continued it’s convulsive tremors beneath her. Suzy’s pussy gushed with her sweet juices, drenching Carl’s face. She lowered her ass to planting her vaginal lips onto the thick black lips of his rugged face. Carl’s tongue responded to the breakfast in bed, picking up where her fingers left off. They each finished the other off before Suzy finally collapsed on top of his muscular body.



Carl took his time getting up, showering and getting dressed. He wanted to savor the moment and was in no rush. He couldn’t help staring in amazement at the gorgeous naked specimen stretched out across the bed, dutifully waiting and available for anything else he might want from her before he left. He thanked Tom for the most memorable evening and morning he could remember, with special kudos for Suzy’s remarkable services.



The moment Carl left, Tom invited Suzy to his third floor quarters for the afternoon and evening. He instructed her to shower, but to leave her clean change of clothing in the servant’s dressing room. She wouldn’t need them for the rest of her shift. He was right. Tom made love to Suzy over and over, taking full advantage of her obligated availability. He was aroused and inspired by her performance the night before. He took full benefit of her sensual prowess. He hungrily consumed her almost as if it were the last time they would be together.



As the evening finished, Suzy laid nude on the soft sheepskin in front of the elegant fireplace. A small fire crackled inside. Easy sophisticated jazz filled the room. They waited for Benjamin to arrive with some late evening snacks Francois had prepared.



“I have a proposal,” Tom offered in a soft voice.



“What is it?” she asked, feeling as if her body could take no more after the unrelenting demands of the weekend. Every orifice ached from the incessant sex; her emotions were vulnerable from exhaustion and the precarious evening of Mark’s seeming infidelity.



“We can keep things as they are with your weekends, or we can change our agreement to make this the last night working every weekend.”



“Sounds too good to be true,” Suzy said. She sat up with interest. “What’s the catch? What about what I owe you?” She had experienced enough of Tom in the last month to know he never gives anything away. There was always a catch.



“No catch. We simply change our arrangement to an on-call basis,” he said. “You no longer would be required to give up your weekends to be here.”



“What do you mean on-call?” she asked. “I just show up at your beck and call?”



“Pretty much,” Tom said. “The vast majority of the time will be weekdays. Mark will be at work and your kids will be at school. There may be an occasional evening or times during a weekend, but they would be rare and just for the hours I want you for. You would basically have your weekends back. I will give you as much advance notice as I can when I call, but you will need to be here when I do.”

1.



Everybody has fantasies, even those, like my wife, who claim they don’t. I had a recurring fantasy. Many married men fantasize about other women; I fantasize about Irene, my own wife. One day, we were making love. Irene was lying in the bed, on her back, and I was between her legs, with my cock inside of her. Irene’s facial expression betrayed intense pleasure. I love the sight of my wife enjoying sex. I don’t know from where it came but, in the heat of the moment, I imagined a second man entering our scene and placing a big cock inside Irene’s mouth. That mental image was so strong and arousing that I instantly felt on the verge of an orgasm. That might not have been the first time I imagined Irene touching another man, but that moment remains fresh in my memory to the present day.



In the beginning, it was always about a second cock in Irene’s mouth whenever I was inside of her. Then, it evolved. I began fantasizing about Irene being intimate and wild with other guys, while I watched or behind my back. In my fantasy, the man was always secondary to his cock. I never imagined her with a friend of mine, a neighbor or any other real person. The man was always a shadow, an inconspicuous figure with no importance whatsoever. Only his cock, always big and impressive, had a part along with my beautiful Irene. This peculiarity would also evolve…



I remember being in my gym’s locker room. I was sitting on a bench, leaning forward, looking at the floor, taking a couple of minutes of rest, after my exercise and before the shower. Suddenly, a great black shape showed up in the periphery of my vision and I instinctively looked up to see what it was. There was a black man coming out from one of the shower’s stalls completely naked. He had a towel but, instead of covering his body, he was carrying it in his hand. His cockiness and exhibitionism seemed to have its origin between his legs, where hung the biggest flaccid cock I had ever seen in a locker-room. The man seemed to be paying no heed to the rest of the guys present in the room, but his nakedness and proud posture made each of us aware that he was bragging about the greatness of his cock. Nothing in this account would matter and all would have been quickly forgotten, if I hadn’t seen my wife talking to that same man later.



When I left the shower stall, the exhibitionist was no longer present. I dried myself, put on my clothes and left. Irene was somewhere in the gym waiting for me, after her aerobics class. I headed for the lobby and that’s where I spotted them talking. Irene seemed to know him, although I had no idea who he might be. I was walking towards them and, when I was a few feet away from Irene, she looked at me. That’s when the stranger used one of the older tricks in the world. The moment my wife diverted her gaze from him, he took the opportunity to check her out, unaware that her husband was approaching.



“My husband is here,” I heard Irene saying when she looked back at him. Then she added with a friendly smile, “See you tomorrow.”



“Who was that?” I asked when the stranger left.



“He is a security guard in our branch office, Mr. Allen. Can you believe the coincidence?” Irene answered.



That guy and that moment naturally slipped my mind, until later in bed. I was trying to fall asleep and my mind was basically unfocused on a multitude of unrelated thoughts when one absurd idea emerged from nowhere: what if Irene was having an affair with Dwayne? It wasn’t a troublesome thought and there wasn’t a reason for any suspicion. In fact, a few moments later, I was fantasizing about my Irene being fucked by Dwayne’s huge cock, at her work, during her working hours. That day’s events merged with my fantasy and all I could think of was how close my wife had been to that hung black man.



Aroused by my own thoughts, I wanted to wake up my wife and make love with her. I wanted to tell her about Dwayne’s prying gaze and shock her with the size of his cock. However, I restrained myself because I knew that it would be useless. My words wouldn’t arouse her and I would end up frustrated as had happened many times before.



2.



Irene knew about my fantasy. When I told it to her for the first time, the idea unsettled her. My wife couldn’t understand how I could feel aroused by the scenario of her having sex with other men. I tried to explain to her that I wasn’t depreciating her, quite the opposite actually. My fantasy was about experiencing new sensations, new emotions, free from any shyness or moral constraints. For once, I desired to see her lost in the search for pleasure, with no care for morals, unstoppable, not for love but for pure lust. With time, my wife became accustomed to the idea but never fully understood it. Considering her conservative approach regarding sex, what else could I expect?



I never hoped that she would easily jump on board and say, “Let’s do it!” My goal was much humbler. I was hoping that, by confessing my darkest fantasy, she could also feel free to share some of her secrets or, at least, desire to experiment more with me. Occasionally, during our intimate moments, I tried to invoke the presence of another man and get some encouraging reaction from her. Irene tolerated this behavior only to humor me but never took active part in it. She claimed that she already had all that she wanted and had no need for fantasies or new experiences. I resigned myself to this idea. Still, deep inside, I always kept a glimmer of hope that, one day, things would change somehow.



Maybe, it was this hope that forced me to confide in her one night. We were lying in the bed, when I asked, “Have you ever fantasized about another man?”



“I already told you before, the answer is no,” Irene calmly said without taking her eyes from the book she was reading.



My wife was right, she had already answered this question before, more than once, and the response had always been the same. However, I had to start from somewhere and this had been the best I had come up with at the moment.



“What do you think of Allen?” I continued.



“Who?” she said still not paying attention to me.



“The guy from the gym, in the other day.”



“Oh, you mean Dwayne,” she said.



Irene was already acknowledging him on a first name basis. This encouraged me to ask again, “What do you think of him?”



“He is nice,” she casually said.



“Have you ever thought about having sex with him?” I dared to ask.



This time, my wife couldn’t pretend to be distracted. She had to know where this conversation was leading, but, I guess, she wasn’t expecting my blunt question.



Irene looked at me, clearly surprised, and said, “But he is black…”



“Is that a problem?” I inquired.



“No, but… I mean… He is good looking and there is nothing wrong with the color of his skin but… He is black…” she awkwardly replied.



Irene didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to seem prejudiced but she also didn’t want to encourage my ideas. Her state of confusion created the perfect moment for me to press further, “So you think he is attractive…”



“Yes…” Irene honestly said, but then she tried to lighten her answer, “Of course, he is good looking. Anyone can see that. But that doesn’t mean I want to sleep with him.”



“If we weren’t together… If you were single and free of commitments… Would you consider dating him?”



Irene remained quiet for a few seconds. She was seriously weighing this possibility but, in the end, she chose not to answer at all.



“That’s a silly question,” she said and at the same time she shook her head as if she were trying to suppress from her mind any undesirable thought. “Besides, there must be lots of girls interested in him, much younger and prettier than me.”



“Does that mean…”



My wife quickly interrupted me, “Let’s have an end to this nonsense. We both have to work tomorrow.”



In a continuous act, not open to discussion, Irene closed her book, placed it on the nightstand, and switched off her light. My provocations seemed to be annoying her more than usual.



Irene was already accustomed to my sporadic incursions, when I press her with naughty comments or intrusive questions of a sexual nature, so her answers were most often short, dull and patronizing, but this time, something had been different. Irene was more upset than usual, as if I had just touched a weak spot.



I couldn’t let our conversation end like this. So I leaned over her and whispered in her ear, “Can I ask one last question?”



Irene rolled over in bed to face me and replied with a condescending tone, “Go ahead.”



“Are you attracted to Dwayne?” I promptly asked, staring at her eyes and using his first name on purpose to invoke any proximity that may exist between the two. I waited for an answer but none came. Instead, Irene’s face reddened. I smiled at her and said, “You’re blushing.”



“Oh, shut up!” my wife complained as she pushed me away and turned her back to me. However, she still had one last thing to say. With a vicious tone of voice, Irene answered an earlier question, “Yes, I would gladly date Dwayne…”



The words came out of her mouth as if she was trying to punish me for uncovering a secret she wanted hidden. But the effect was quite the opposite: I felt rewarded for my persistence.



Irene was attracted to another man. It was probably a minor and unimportant infatuation that would go away as quickly as it manifested. Still, this was a big thing for me. For the first time, I knew for sure that Irene wasn’t immune to other men’s charms and this had to mean she harbored secret desires, temptations, and all sort of taboo feelings that she would never admit to me, the man she loves and is married to, maybe not even to herself.



I was feeling as excited as a kid with a new toy. Her infatuation towards Dwayne might be minor and silly, but I was ready to use it for my own purposes.



3.



Strangely, after a night of planning and fantasizing, I woke up with a bitterly jealous feeling. The idea that my wife could have a hidden side was very exciting… but also quite frightening. This recent discovery about Irene forced me to question my fantasy. The idea of my wife having sex with another man was powerful and arousing in my mind, but what would I do if I had the chance to fulfill it in real time? I couldn’t honestly answer this question, but I also knew that my indecision wasn’t enough to forget my fantasy.



Later at night, the anxiety forced me to go to bed earlier than usual, in hope that Irene would follow me right away. She met me a few minutes later with her book in hand. The moment she settled next to me, my hand probed inside her pajama and touched one of her boobs. My wife accepted my caress but didn’t react and resumed her reading.



“Can you read while I touch your breast?” I teased.



“Yes,” she shortly replied.



I removed my hand as I studied her face, trying to find any evidence of disappointment. Irene didn’t flinch. Then, I slid my hand downwards, under her pajama pants. The moment it touched her labia, I asked again, “Can you still read?”



“Yes,” she casually answered once again. But, this time, her legs slightly opened and allowed my fingers better access.



I was lucky. Despite her distracted behavior, Irene seemed to be in the right mood. A few seconds later, my cock was buried in her.



“Gently,” she replied to my impatience.



All I wanted was to be inside of her, before I started to ask the questions, “Tell me, why do you feel so attracted by Dwayne?”



“Oh no… No… not that subject again… Don’t ruin this…” my wife protested.



“I already know you’re attracted to him, so don’t deny it.” I saw the reluctance in her face, but I knew I could always appeal to her condescending side, “Humor me, please.”



There was a moment of silence. I could see the struggle in Irene. Then she said, “He is tall… He has broad shoulders…”



Irene wasn’t properly answering my question. Instead she was giving an unexpressive account of his physique.



“Do you like tall men?”



“No,” she said as she shook her head twice, but I didn’t understand if she was answering my question or telling me to stop my enquiry.



“Is it because he is black?” I insisted.



“I don’t know…” Just when I was starting to feel that I would not get anything from her, Irene surprised me, “Maybe a bit…”



Irene’s answer seemed to betray much more than she intended. Instead of simple answers as in the other times I had inquired, Irene was honestly reacting to my questions. Most of all, she was admitting that the color of Dwayne’s skin played a part in her attraction. I couldn’t believe that my own wife had a soft spot for black men.



“Black men have big cocks,” I suggested.



Irene smiled and scornfully replied, “Do you really believe that? It’s a myth.”



Yes, I knew that this was a myth. But in Dwayne’s case, the myth met reality.



“Have you ever fantasized about his cock?” I continued.



“Of course not,” she replied.



My hips were already moving for a while, but at the sound of her words, the rhythm increased.



I leaned over my wife and placed my mouth close to her right ear. Slowly, I whispered, “Imagine your hands touching him, feeling the muscles in his arms and chest. Imagine his big hands touching your skin, your nipples, cupping your boob and squeezing it gently. Imagine your naked body pressing against his young, virile body. Imagine his lips touching…”



I wanted Irene to continue with my descriptive tale and tell me where she wanted to be touched. However, all that she gave me was the sound of her heavy breath. I looked at her eyes; they were closed.



“Are you thinking about him?” I tried.



Irene’s eyes immediately opened in panic, as if my guess was truthful.



“No!” she replied.



“It’s okay,” I calmly said. “You can close your eyes and picture him. I don’t mind.”



It seemed like a vain attempt to fuel Irene’s lust. The result was both surprising and beautiful. After a moment of indecision, Irene shut her eyes; she was fantasizing about Dwayne.



My mouth returned to her ear and I slowly continued, “Imagine his strong hands raising and opening your legs. His cock is hard. He has wanted to take you since the moment he first met you. Imagine the first touch of his cock. Imagine it pressing inwards. Imagine his weight on top of you. He is inside of you…”



Suddenly, Irene’s arms enveloped me and her hands pressed my body against hers. In her fantasy, I didn’t know if she was holding me or Allen. A couple seconds later a powerful orgasm exploded, much for my excitement.



All this time I had been taking the wrong approach. The idea of fucking another man might not mean a thing to Irene, but the idea of fucking Dwayne specifically… was a different story.



Aroused by Irene’s reaction to my words, I increased the movements of my hips so that I could cum too. However, Irene pushed me away and viciously said, “I’m done with you tonight. You can finish by your own means.”



Once again, this was her way of punishing me. My wife was angry with me, probably feeling guilty too. Still, my teasing had been worth it. Despite the abrupt end of our night, this felt like the most exciting thing we had ever done.



4.



I kept invoking Dwayne in most of our intimate moments for many more nights… and mornings too. With time, Irene became accustomed to it. Her reaction to my words became less evident; her discomfort and anger afterwards my fantasizing also faded. My wife was trying to go back to her old self, where my provocations could be easily dismissed. However, she never dispirited me. No matter how much she tried, I could still see the effects of my words in her: her pussy was taking less time to become wet and her arousal during penetration was much greater; also, her sexual appetite increased and her need to cum every time we had sex became more regular than before.



Then, one night, her conservative shell cracked and she openly questioned me, “Doesn’t it bother you that I may be thinking about another man while we make love?”



“No. The naughtiness of it turns me on,” I replied. I didn’t need to ask to know the truth, but I did it anyway, “Does it turn you on to fantasize about him?”



Immediately, Irene’s expression changed and I knew I wouldn’t get an honest answer from her, “No. Don’t you get jealous?”



“Come on. If you want me to answer your questions, you need to answer mine too.”



I guess, this time, Irene really wanted to have this conversation and only needed some incentive from my part to proceed. So she said, “Yes, but imagining another man when I’m with you… it doesn’t feel right.”



“Why?”



“You know why.”



“As long as both of us enjoy it, why shouldn’t we?”



Irene didn’t answer back. She seemed to be meditating about my words.



“Do you fantasize about me and Dwayne? I mean Allen… Dwayne…” she hesitated. I realized how hard this conversation was for her. Even something so insignificant, like addressing him by first name, something that she had done before under other circumstances, seemed a big deal to my wife now.



“Yes.”



Slowly, the questions were coming out of her mouth as never before, “Would you like me to have sex with him? For real, I mean… I’m not saying that I would… or that I wish it… But if I wanted to, would you like it to really happen?”



The simple fact that Irene was asking me that question was already a big step. However, just as before when I asked that question of myself, I didn’t know the answer. I knew for a fact how much the idea turned me on, but I didn’t know if I really wanted to make it real.



Still, after all the progress I had been making at opening Irene’s mind, I didn’t want to sound indecisive, so I assertively said, “Yes, I would love it.”



“What’s the big deal? Making love with you is more than enough for me.”



“I don’t want you to make love. I want you to have raw sex, no love involved, only pleasure and lust,” I replied. “That’s why it can’t be with me.”



My answer seemed to scare Irene… Or maybe it impressed her. I didn’t know for sure how to read her reaction.



For a moment, I thought that the conversation was over… but it wasn’t. Irene seemed to have chosen that moment to release years and years of questions, “Let’s just say that I would accept to do it… I’m not saying I will… because I don’t want to, okay? But if I said yes, then what would happen? I’m curious. What would you do to convince Dwayne?”



I was surprised by her curiosity, but the answer was simple, “I wouldn’t have to do anything. It would be all up to you.”



“What?”



“You would have to seduce him.”



“Me?” Irene said with a big mocking smile on her face.



“Yes.”



“That’s ridiculous. I wouldn’t know what to do. Besides, why would he want anything to do with me, when he can have someone much younger and prettier?” said my wife with skepticism.



Irene had no idea of her sexual potential. With the right confidence and attitude, nothing could stop her. I wished she could see it for herself.



“Give him the right signs… and see for yourself.”



“The right signs?” she repeated incredulous.



“Stop attending your aerobics class for a while and spend some time working out with him,” I boldly said.



“Oh shut up!” my wife roughly replied.



All of a sudden Irene’s curiosity turned into anger. Despite how my words may have sounded, I wasn’t really asking her to do it; I just wanted to explain her how it could be done. Still, my wife no longer wanted to talk about this subject, leaving me no choice but to respect her wish.



Irene wasn’t outraged by my hypothetical suggestion; she was outraged because part of her felt attracted by the idea. I didn’t know this for sure, of course. But the more she exposed her dark side, the more I began understanding how her mind worked. Anyway, as unbelievable as this may have seemed before, a few days later, Irene accepted my suggestion and decided to skip her aerobics class.

5.



“Nothing wrong will happen,” I assured her on the morning of her decision. “It will be only two acquaintances working out side by side, along with a bunch of other people.”



Irene only agreed to be closer to Dwayne after some persistent convincing from my part but, beneath her reluctance, I sensed the wish to be persuaded, so I provided the excuse my wife’s conscience needed: she would be only doing it for me, to please me and to enhance our intimate moments.



Irene was supposed to ‘accidentally’ meet Dwayne in the gym. She wanted me to be present too, but that didn’t make any sense. I was already thinking far ahead. In order for Dwayne to feel free to make any move towards my wife, he should think that the coast was clear. So, when the day came, I created a last minute excuse not to be present. Irene wasn’t happy.



“I don’t want to be alone with him,” she said to me over the phone.



“You won’t be. There will be other people around you,” I reminded her.



In the end, my wife didn’t back out.



I wish I could be a little fly on the wall, so that I could freely watch them together but all I could do was to go home and fantasize about what could happen. I imagined Allen teaching Irene how to correctly use the training equipment: his eyes admiring her figure and taking her clothes off, one piece at a time; his hands boldly roaming along her body, correcting her posture and feeling her feminine curves. How would Irene feel? Would she feel uncomfortable and disrespected or excited and drawn to him?



When my wife finally got home, I was anxious to know what had happened.



“Nothing happened,” Irene said. “He politely came to me. We chatted for about five minutes and then we both went our separate way. What were you expecting?”



In the next few weeks, my wife maintained her new workout schedule but I saw no changes in her. My fantasy had been anticipating unrealistic scenarios that reality couldn’t match. Irene’s question was pertinent: what could I possibly expect from it?



Then one day, an ordinary weekday like many others, I was sitting on the couch, watching the TV news when Irene came from the kitchen and stood in front of me blocking my view. She seemed to want something from me. Unexpectedly, she knelt in front of me, between my legs, lowered my pants and underwear and put my cock in her mouth. I was in shock… Irene wasn’t a fan of oral sex. She had done it to me in the past but always to indulge my requests and never out of her own initiative. This time, I didn’t even have to mention it; she was willingly massaging my cock to full erection with her lips and tongue. I just sat there, speechless, enjoying that unique moment as if it were the first time I was experiencing a blowjob. In a way, it really felt like a first time, because Irene was licking and feeling my cock in her mouth with unseen passion. I was in heaven. Part of me wanted that moment to last forever, but I had to take advantage of her sudden enthusiasm and go a little further.



I stopped her and invited her to climb onto the couch. Irene thought I was preparing myself to penetrate her, but I had another idea in mind: I wanted to eat her pussy.



When my wife realized my intentions, she locked her legs and said, “No… I don’t want that… I want you inside of me…”



Irene wasn’t a fan of any kind of oral sex. Still, when we were younger, before our marriage, I had convinced her to let me lick her pussy a couple of times and I remember her enjoying it. Meanwhile, I don’t know why, she became more resistant to the idea. Irene claimed that she preferred for me to penetrate her and that she had no need for anything else.



However, this time, I wasn’t willing to give in to her objections. I gently forced her legs open and plunged my face into her wet pussy. My wife’s stubborn resistance ended the moment my mouth touched her. My lips probed inside her labia and I found the abundant presence of her arousing fluids. Only then I realized how much I had been missing that flavor.



Irene came a few minutes later. Her arms were hugging her body tightly as if she were protecting herself from being violated but her mouth was open wide as if a silent scream was being released.



When her body relaxed, I sat by her side and waited a couple of minutes before asking, “What was that?”



“What?” she replied in bad mood, as if she were being disturbed.



“Why did you attack me like that?”



“I don’t know…”



“Were you horny?”



“Yes…” my wife confessed with a more calm tone of voice. “I don’t know why… but I felt this strong desire to do it…”



I didn’t know if she was already regretting her decision but, from my part, there were no complaints. My cock was still hard, begging for attention. I held it and slowly stroke it while we were talking.



“Did something happen today in the gym?”



I had the feeling that Dwayne might have something to do with my wife’s unexpected impulse.



“No…” Irene awkwardly replied. “What could have happened?”



“Did Dwayne try something? Did he touch you?”



“Of course not!” she protested.



“Then how did he turn you on?”



A moment of silence followed my question and I realized that, this time, I was asking the right question.



“Lately we have been closer. He has been helping me using the training equipment. Looks like that I’ve been doing it all wrong.”



I nodded to my wife for her to proceed. This is what I had been expecting to hear right from the beginning. Slowly, as if she were trying to feel her ground, Irene continued, “He has been a gentleman… The problem is in me. I can’t stop thinking about sex and your stupid fantasy when I’m near him.”



“Keep going…” I encouraged her.



“I can’t stop looking at him… at his body. And, when I sense him staring at me, I feel like a silly teenager. Even the smell of his sweat turns me on.”



Irene was finishing these words when she realized that I had been touching myself while she was talking. This enraged her and she violently said, “This is your entire fault!”



Yes, the fault was mine. Thanks to me, the minor and temporary infatuation she had experienced in the beginning had evolved into a strong sexual attraction. That had been my plan all along. My wife’s sudden sexual explosion was the result of the growing sexual tension between her and Dwayne in the last few weeks.



“And today he asked me if I would join him for a cup of coffee after our workout,” Irene continued. There was a long moment of silence. My wife seemed to be expecting some sort of reaction from my part, but I quietly waited for the continuation of her account. “When I refused, he asked me if I wanted to go out with him one of these days.”



Gentleman or not, Dwayne knew how to make his move.



This time, I couldn’t contain myself, “What did you answer?”



“What did I answer?!” Irene repeated in disbelief. My wife seemed to be on the verge of a meltdown. “I’m a married woman. This can’t be happening… He probably noticed my silly behavior. He thinks that I’m after him.”



“Are you?” I provoked.



For a moment I thought that she was going to throw the nearest object at my head. But then Irene quieted herself, a false calm; she covered her nakedness and left the room in silence. We didn’t speak to each other for the rest of the day.



6.



Next morning, Irene behaved as if nothing had happened. I tried to talk with her but she didn’t want to partake in any more conversations about Dwayne. I respected her decision and decided to give her a break. One moment I had a conservative wife not willing to do any sexual experimentation with me, the next moment, she was willingly spending time with a man to whom she felt attracted. Everything was happening fast, so a small break was, probably, not a bad idea. Nevertheless, as the days went by, Irene kept meeting Allen in the gym…



We didn’t talk about Dwayne for exactly one week. That day, when I opened the door of our apartment, I found my wife nervously expecting me inside. The door wasn’t closed yet and Irene was already all over me. Less than a minute later and we were having wild, enthusiastic sex in our bed.



After we were both satiated, Irene decided to speak about our recent transgressions once again, “This can’t go on. I never wanted any of this.”



“The sex?”



“No! Dwayne and I… I can’t keep feeding this attraction.”



“What were you expecting to happen when I asked you to workout with him?” I confronted her.



“I don’t know…” Irene answered in dismay.



“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. But I like it as it is.”



Irene shook her head as if I was missing the point.



“Don’t you get it? I… really… want… him!” my wife stressed with all her will. “That’s why I can keep seeing him.”



The bluntness of her confession stunned me. For the first time, my wife was expressing in words how much she desired Dwayne. One push on my part and Irene would succumb to my wishes, whatever they would be. I had to make up my mind. Did I really want my wife to fuck Dwayne?



After our conversation, it was decided that Irene would keep her meetings with Dwayne. Her earlier moment of frailty was put aside and she showed me a renewed determination to resist Dwayne’s advances. This was as far as she was willing to go. I accepted her decision but, deep inside, I was beginning to doubt the strength of her resolution.



In the next few weeks, I slowly watched my wife change. She learned how to handle the sexual tension and accept the lust inside of her. We kept using Dwayne to spice our intimate moments but her sexual outbursts disappeared.



One day, she told me, “Today, we had a cup of coffee together in the gym’s snack bar.” Irene’s tone was casual, but I noticed a hint of caution, as if she was apprehensive with my reaction. Then she added, “There is nothing wrong with a cup of coffee with a friend, right?”



Who was she trying to reassure: herself or me? I couldn’t help myself from feeling surprised, but I did my best to not to show it.



“Of course there isn’t,” I reassured her.



Soon, their coffee meetings after exercise became regular and began occurring also outside the gym. Slowly, Irene was taking her relationship with Dwayne a little further and letting me know of it. Every gym day, I would arrive home hoping to hear a new detail: their first lunch break together; her first ride home with Dwayne; how they exchanged phone numbers…



No matter how much enjoyment I was getting from our little game, I needed more. I needed to see them with my own eyes. So, one day, I decided to spy on my wife with her black friend without their knowledge…



7.



I strategically parked my car so that I could perfectly see the gym’s entrance without being spotted. Then I waited. Fifteen minutes later, I spotted my wife and Dwayne leaving the premises side by side. Fortunately, they weren’t heading for their cars. Instead, they walked to the nearest coffee shop and I followed them at a safe distance. Not far, across the road, there was also a pastry shop. So, I walked in there, quickly ordered something, took a table inside and waited, while they were still inside. A few seconds later, they left their shop carrying a tray and occupied a table outside.



I couldn’t hear them nor see their facial expressions in detail, but from where I was standing I could observe them in safety. Somehow, I was expecting to see in Irene the silly teenager she had mentioned in the past, cornered by Dwayne’s presence. Instead, I saw a confident woman talking with a peer. There was an evident proximity between them, one we usually only have with close friends or relatives. As it had happened before, I felt jealousy growing inside me and, with it, also a profound excitement. I wished it was dark already. I wished there was a dim alley nearby where Dwayne could take my wife afterwards and fuck her hard against a building wall, while I observed everything from afar. Then I imagined Irene confessing to me how she had succumbed to his charms. My imagination was out of the rails: jealousy was the most powerful aphrodisiac.



Ten minutes later, Dwayne escorted my wife to her car. During their meeting, I didn’t notice any physical contact between the two, but that was about to change…



On the moment of parting, instead of a simple goodbye or a handshake, Dwayne leaned to Irene and kissed her on the cheek. The action seemed to be happening in slow motion. In fact, it was more than a feeling. The entire gesture developed in a purposely slow fashion, as if both of them pretended to delay the moment as long as they could. Irene accepted his kiss and she smiled when their stares met once again. At that moment, jealousy peaked in me… They were silently flirting with each other. At the least, Irene was flirting.



I intended to leave before Irene, so that I could arrive home first, but that moment paralyzed me. For a couple of minutes I kept quiet, inside my car, reliving the moment over and over again. Only then I left.



I desperately desired to arrive home so that I could fuck my wife fast and hard. And that’s what happened. Irene welcomed my unexpected enthusiasm as I had welcomed hers in the past. Only when I was too worn-out to continue, we shared words.



“Is everything alright?” Irene asked.



“Yes,” I replied. “Is everything alright with you too?”



“Yes,” she naturally said.



“Did anything happen today?”



“No,” Irene answered. But then she realized what I meant and adjusted her response, “Today, I had coffee with Dwayne… as we occasionally do.”



There was no reference to the kiss. Maybe I was giving too much importance to that kiss, but that was exactly the kind of details I wished from her.



“Today, I also have something to tell,” I mysteriously said.



“What?” Irene replied with apprehension.



“I saw you with Dwayne.”



“Where?” she nervously asked.



“From the time you left the gym until the moment you went separate ways.”



“Were you spying on us?”



“Yes,” I admitted.



Irene quickly got up as if she didn’t want to share a bed with me for the rest of the conversation. Her face was a mirror of all kinds of inner emotions.



“Why did you do that?”



“I had to see you. I couldn’t resist.”



“I’m not comfortable with that. You should have told me,” Irene accused.



Yes, I should have told her. But I wished to see her in her usual environment. If she knew I was there, everything would be different. I explained this to her and her anger lessened, but shame and fear remained.



Irene told me that she felt like a different woman when she was with Dwayne, maybe a necessary rationalization on her part to help her deal with the situation. But what surprised me the most was the implied fear in her words and reaction. No matter how many times I had told it to her before, she still didn’t understand how my fantasy worked in my mind.



“Are you angry with me?” she asked, at one point.



How could my wife ask me that?



“No! I…” I replied. I wanted to tell her how much I had enjoyed seeing her, but no words could describe it.



“Weren’t you jealous?” Irene asked incredulous.



“Oh, yes… I was jealous… You can’t imagine how much…” I honestly said. “It was amazing.”



My wife looked at me as if I wasn’t making sense. I guess someone would have to feel what I felt to understand it.



“Did you like it?” she tried.



“Oh yes… You were gorgeous… fantastic…”



“You’re crazy,” Irene said as she smiled; a confused but honest smile. Despite some signs of reluctance, my enthusiasm was infecting her.



“Does he still keep inviting you to go out with him?” I asked, dramatically changing the direction of the conversation. In the heat of the moment, I was about to take our game even further without thinking about the consequences.



“Yes…”



“Have dinner with him.”



Irene looked at me in awe.



“I can’t… He will get the wrong idea…”



“Let him get the wrong idea,” I promptly replied. I was expecting some reluctance from her part, but no words were coming from her open mouth. “Will you do it?”



After a long moment of silence, Irene finally answered, “Okay… Just dinner and nothing more.”



I never thought my wife would agree so easily.



“Just dinner… nothing more,” I agreed.



A week later, Irene had progresses to declare: their date had been scheduled for the following Saturday evening.



8.



I guess part of me was in denial those days before Saturday. Somehow, I was expecting Irene to back out in the last moment or to confess that there wasn’t any date at all. This feeling was also justified by Irene’s behavior: I couldn’t see any unrest or excitement, reluctance or enthusiasm in her. She was behaving as if nothing special was about to happen.



Only when I saw my wife all dressed up and ready to leave, I was sure of what was about to happen. Part of me wanted to ask her to stay and cancel her meeting with Dwayne; but most of all I felt aroused by the moment. Irene wasn’t wearing any special clothes, make-up or perfume, only one of her usual evening dresses. However, in my mind, she seemed hotter than ever.



“Do I look good?” Irene asked. Her question was plain and simple, but also seemed to imply much more. I felt as if she was asking me if I was sure about all that.



“Yes,” I replied trying to sound resolute.



Irene didn’t say anything else; we kissed and she left.



From inside our apartment, I watched her enter the taxi that would take her to the restaurant. Only then, the numbness that had surrounded me in the previous days left me for good. I realized that I didn’t have a reason for allowing my wife to go to that dinner. What did I mean to accomplish with this new step? Her recent intimacy with Dwayne, as it was, was enough to ignite our imagination and passion. Irene was already more open to experimentation in our sexual interactions than ever before in our marital relationship. What else could I want? Unless… The key question was still to be answered: do I really want my wife to have sex with Dwayne?



I wanted to ask about what Irene was feeling and what her plans were, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to pressure her. Somehow, not knowing beforehand seemed like a good idea. I was in her hands and it felt tremendously exciting. I was sure of one thing though: no matter what would happen that night, I wanted it to be Irene’s decision. However, I couldn’t stay home, waiting; I had to see them with my own eyes. So I grabbed my car keys and left to again spy on my wife.



Fortunately, I knew where the restaurant was. Irene had told me the address herself, just in case, although I didn’t know what ‘just in case’ was supposed to mean. It was located conveniently out of town, so that no known eyes could catch them together. Also, after my stunt a few days earlier, I was expecting her to plainly ask me if I intended to spy upon her once more. Her silence about this matter felt like an encouragement for me to follow her… or maybe this was the way I had to justify my behavior.



When I got to the restaurant, I immediately realized that there was no way for me to observe them from the outside and entering the premises was out of the question. I had no plan, no idea of what to look for or expect, so I was left with no choice but to wait outside, hidden in my car.



I parked my vehicle on the far side of the parking lot, where it was darker and away from the other cars. From there, I had a good view of both the parking lot and the restaurant door, without being too exposed. Then I waited and it felt like an eternity.



As expected in a place like that, there were always people coming and going. Other cars occupied some of the empty parking spaces close to mine, concealing me even more, but there was no sight of Irene. Without anything else to occupy it, my mind began producing reasons for worrying. What if they weren’t there? What if that was the wrong restaurant or they had changed their minds and left to somewhere else before my arrival? Worse than being caught spying them was the possibility of being there for nothing so, I began considering my options. One of them was getting inside the premises: maybe by disguising myself or maybe by trying to enter through the service door in the back… Fortunately, much to my relief and before I did something stupid, Irene appeared at the door. They were leaving.

That moment of relief was quickly replaced by more worrying. Now, that they were in my sight, the idea of being caught spying on them didn’t seem as unimportant as before.



I sank in my seat and observed them walking towards his car. It was located halfway across the parking lot, in the opposite row from where I was sitting. They got in the vehicle and then, without seemingly hesitating, as if they had it all planned, they kissed. From where I was standing all I could see were two silhouettes blending, but I knew that it wasn’t a kiss on the cheek as I had seen a few days ago. Irene was allowing her date’s tongue to explore her, I was sure of it. It seemed all so simple and easy, maybe too easy. Who knows if that was their first kiss? Who knows what else my wife has been doing with him without telling me? I felt the jealousy inside of me but I wasn’t mad. In fact, I realized that I was cheering for him. I wanted him to break the last efforts of resistance of my wife. Then, they broke contact and I could see, once again, two distinct silhouettes inside the car.



For a while they talked, nothing more. They chatted for a long time. People were leaving the restaurant and emptying the parking lot. I was nervous with the idea of becoming too exposed. Slowly, I also began noticing what appeared to be signs of agitation on Irene’s part. She seemed to be constantly looking around and moving over her seat. One suspicion came to my mind: was she looking for me? Did she know that I was watching her? I sank even more in my seat, a self-preservation reaction. If she knew I was there, then that earlier kiss might have been a way to tease me. In that case, it meant that Irene was playing the game fully aware of its rules. I was in her hands. However, despite my aroused thoughts, nothing had prepared me for what was about to happen. At least, not on their first date…



Once again, their bodies moved closer to each other and they were kissing. It lasted only a few seconds. Then, Irene took one last glance around, her silhouette leaned towards her male date and her shadow completely disappeared from within the car. I could no longer see Irene, at all. For a moment I was in denial; I thought she was after something that might have fallen on the floor, but there was really only one plausible explanation for what I was, or rather wasn’t, seeing. He leaned backwards in his seat and I imagined his eyes shutting in pleasure as my wife took his huge black cock in her mouth for the first time.



Back and forth, my mind shifted from a state of denial to amazement. Stunned by the moment, I looked around as if it wasn’t possible to be the unique witness of that incredible moment. Irene, my wife, was giving head to a black guy in a parking lot. Reality was emulating my most audacious fantasies. Was that really my wife and not just a lookalike? Where was her shyness?



I had never told Irene what I knew about his huge cock. Many times I felt tempted, but I had always imagined her in awe and delight the moment she realized it for the first time. I didn’t want to take from her that astonishing moment, even in the beginning when my fantasy seemed completely impossible. That big black cock was my present to her, my best present ever. A gift she was unwrapping at that moment.



After a minute or so, that felt like a lifetime, I saw Irene’s shadow re-emerge; the car started and they left at last.



I should have followed them right away, but I didn’t. I was frozen, still concealing myself in my seat, trying to fathom the meaning of that moment with my cock swollen inside my pants to the point of almost being painful. When I finally reacted, it was too late and there was no sign of them.



When I arrived home, I was prepared to see Irene waiting for me, but she wasn’t there. Her date wasn’t over yet. So I waited.



9.



I was waiting for my wife to come home, knowing that she was on a date with another man. It wasn’t a dream or a fantasy any longer; I was living it. Who knew what they could be doing at that very moment? Now that Irene’s innocence had been lost, everything was possible. As far as I knew that black, hung guy could be fucking my lovely Irene at that exact moment, giving her what she never had and making her feel what she had never felt before. Would she think of me then? Would she remember me?



There was noise outside; I thought it could be she… but it wasn’t. I was dying in anticipation for the moment my sweet wife would cross our apartment’s door. Would I see a new glow in her eyes when she got home? From that day, I could never again say my wife was conservative. Would she hide from me what had happened in the parking lot, like a cheating wife? Would she be naughty and openly detail her date to me? Would she tease me?



I heard noise outside again, this time followed by the sound of the lock of our apartment’s door. My wife was back. I didn’t want to look too eager, so I waited for her to come to me.



“How did it go?” I asked, breaking the silence.



“It went well,” Irene cautiously replied.



I searched in her hair, her make-up and her dress for any sign of mischief. Everything seemed in order. I approached her and kissed her as we use to do when one of us arrives home. Her body felt unusually stiff. Was she trying to judge what was on my mind as I was doing with her? Was she afraid?



“Did you go somewhere else after dinner?” I asked. It was almost midnight.



“We took a walk afterwards.”



Only a walk, I wondered?



“Did he give you a ride back home?”



“Yes,” she casually said.



Irene wasn’t giving me anything, so I let her take a shower and waited for her in bed. Her plain answers were making me question what I thought I already knew.



Only, when we were both lying together, did she begin talking.



“I don’t know how to say this…” Irene began. There was a moment of silence, as if she was expecting me to make it easy for her. “Something happened… Something more than dinner, or coffee or taking a walk… I pleased him with my mouth.”



Irene’s last words came out in a rush, as if she had decided it was best to face my reaction as quickly as possible. Her eyes were set on me, waiting, pleading for a response, any kind of response.



I didn’t know what to say. Her bluntness and sincerity had both disarmed and aroused me. So, I bent over her, gently secured her head with my hands and kissed her, this time much more passionately. My hard penis was pressing against her thigh. This was my way of showing her my consent. And it was enough for her…



Suddenly, all her anxiety and nerves poured out in a stream of words, “I can’t believe I did it. I never thought… I left home sure that nothing would happen. Everything was under control… then he kissed me in the car and put my hand inside his pants… I didn’t reject him… I knew what he wanted from me… Before I knew it, he was pulling it out and saying, ‘Suck my cock, Irene.’ Those words… I couldn’t believe he was saying those words to me. He meant it! So I did it!”



Then, my wife stopped, seemingly tired, as if saying those words had been a giant task. Again, she was waiting for some reaction from me, but this time her mood seemed different. Irene still seemed anxious, but no longer due to fear or doubt. I was trapped inside her words and she could feel it.



“Is it over?” I asked.



“No,” Irene said lightly. Her assuredness was growing fast. “We went to his apartment.”



“Yes,” I said in approval.



I instinctively reached for her pussy and gently rubbed it over her pajama. Irene moved my hand away and showed me some discomfort. Then she said, “He is big. You won’t believe how big and thick he is. It’s unbelievable. I never thought…” Words were coming out of her mouth with growing enthusiasm and then abruptly stopped.



I teased her, “I told you before. Black guys have big cocks.”



Irene didn’t bother contradicting me, “Oh, he is big alright. Huge! I never thought they could be so big.”



My wife was showing awe, amazement and joy, all at once. Now she knew what is out there. I wouldn’t give her to just anyone. Irene is special, so she deserved something special too.



“Did you fuck him?” I asked to my wife.



“Oh yes,” she confessed with pride.



“Irene…”



“Yes…”



I couldn’t hold myself any longer, “Suck my cock, Irene.”



My wife smiled due to the reference to her episode with her lover. Her expression was showing pure delight. I had never talked like that to my wife. But now, I was sure that she was ready to appreciate it. And she was, indeed. Irene positioned herself and exposed my hard penis. For a moment, she just stared as if she was trying to comprehend how her black lover could have so much when I had so little. Now she knew what is out there. I felt as if I had never been nude in front of her.



“Is it small?” I asked trying to lead her to say what was on her mind.



“Yes,” Irene replied smiling. “But I love you.”



Then she took my penis in her mouth and she serviced me willingly. It didn’t take long for me to ejaculate. My cum fell on my belly, much to my disappointment. I wanted Irene to take it in her mouth, but I needed it to be out of her initiative. She wasn’t ready, yet.



There were no more questions, no more words that night. We cuddled and fell asleep together.



Next morning, I woke up feeling my wife agitated in bed. Irene was holding her cell phone in her hand as if something bad had happened.



“He sent me a text message,” she said.



“What does it say?”



“He wants to be with me again,” Irene said in distress. “What do I do?”



I was surprised by her reaction. Then I realized that, in her mind, her sexual encounter had been nothing more than a one-night stand, something to remember forever but never to repeat.



“Do you want to be with him again?” I confronted her.



No matter what she thought would happen afterwards, Irene knew too well what she desired.



“Yes, I want to be Dwayne’s secret girlfriend,” she said.



I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to. Irene wouldn’t be as clear if she didn’t know I would grant her wish.



10.



The old Irene was gone. My wife no longer repressed her fantasies and desires, resigned to do what society expected from her. On the outside, she was still a respectful, modest woman. But secretly, she was enjoying black cock from a younger man. And I was her cuckolded husband, happy with the wife I had.



For the first time, Irene was indeed in charge. Sometimes, I still sensed a small spark of doubt or indecision in her. In those cases, I subtly intervened, not making her mind up for her in this or that way, but assuring her that I wanted her to make her own choices. Irene learned fast. So, occasionally, whenever they wished and found themselves in the mood, my wife and her lover met in private to materialize their sexual relationship. We didn’t know how long this adventure would last: maybe a few encounters, maybe more… That wasn’t important.



Her lover didn’t know of our arrangement. He must have thought that I was a wimp, not competent enough to prevent my wife from screwing around behind my back. Little did he know that I knew all about their trysts and that, in fact, Irene was deceiving him and we were using him, much like he was using her. This deception was the price he had to pay to fuck my Irene.



Slowly, we adjusted our sex life to the new reality. Rituals were created.



Watching my wife getting dressed for her dates was one of those rituals. Irene’s lingerie evolved, reflecting the changes inside of her, and became much more sexy and suggestive. However, she always saved the initial exhibition of these new intimate garments for her secret dates with Dwayne.



“I bought this for my boyfriend. Do you like it?” she used to say while she was dressing for her date.



Irene took special pride in using the word ‘boyfriend’, probably because of the “forbidden fruit” nature of the term.



“I love it,” I always replied.



Then, Irene used to stimulate my jealousy by saying as she looked approvingly at herself in the mirror, “I can’t wait to see the look on his face when he sees it.”



It was all about him and not me.



On another day, also before one of their meetings, Irene showed me her freshly shaved pussy. This was a nice surprise. She used to tend her pubic hair, but she had never shaved it bare.



“My boyfriend said he likes it this way. He asked me to try it for him,” Irene teased. All I waited was to lay her in bed and feel her smooth skin against my face as I licked her. I tried to do it, but she didn’t let me. “No. This is for him. You can feel it tomorrow,” she playfully said.



Often, Irene laughed after these little games of ours, expressing the enjoyment that she felt with them.



Later, after arriving home, my wife always took a shower before meeting me in our bed. Then, she shared some of the details of her dates. Her comments were never an objective account of what had happened. I realized that not knowing everything was often much more exciting for me. Instead, Irene enjoyed toying with my jealousy and the strong arousing effect it had in me.



“Today, he asked me to dance for him… like a real stripper,” Irene said once.



I wanted her to dance for me too, but I it would be pointless to ask. At those moments, she never complied with my requests. I couldn’t touch her pussy. I couldn’t fuck my own wife after her dates. That was the price I had to pay for sharing Irene with such a hung guy. But I knew, if I were patient, that she would reward me later, sometimes when I least expected.



“You do realize I have a boyfriend, don’t you?” Irene teased me in another occasion. “He is so manly and strong. He is having sex with me… your wife. Aren’t you jealous?”



“Yes,” I answered in awe; a pointless response because she knew quite well what I felt.



“I danced for him. Then he fucked me,” my wife said. “I had his cock in me. Whenever I have him inside of me I feel so full and stretched. I love the sensation!” Her hand touched her pussy over her pajama and she continued, “I can still feel him inside… I never thought they could be so big and thick. But he is so patient and amazing… and it feels so good… I’m so lucky…”



Now, Irene knew what was out there. I could be the best husband in the world, but I could never match her boyfriend in bed. Now she had someone else to equate me with and the comparison wasn’t kind to me. Now she knew how small her husband was. For the first time, Irene knew me altogether. And, if I couldn’t give her what she deserved, then she knew that she was allowed to search for it elsewhere.



“Is he better than me?” I asked. I wanted to know how confident and bold my wife had become and how honest she dared to be.



For a moment Irene stood silent, pondering about her answer or trying to read my mind. Then, she replied without wavering, “I love you so much… but I wouldn’t have a boyfriend if he wasn’t much better…” Then, Irene winked at me, lessening some of the cruelty of her words.



Hearing my wife describe how good she felt was extraordinary. I thrived upon her enthusiasm and genuinely desired her to have the best experience possible. Her pleasure was my pleasure, even if she was getting it from another man.



“Do you ever think of me when you’re with him?” I dared to ask once more.



“Sometimes…” she teased me. Then, not content with our current tone of conversation, Irene whispered in my ear, “But when he lifts me in the air with his strong arms and his cock is inside of me, I feel him and only him. At those times, he is my man.”



My wife’s words were outrageous but I knew she meant them, all of them; never before she had said so much with so few words.



That night, before falling asleep, Irene added one last thing, “I just wish you could see me.”



Yes, I desperately wanted to see her too. I had committed myself not to try to persuade my wife and let her have her own choices, but this new desire was too strong to contain. So, one day, I asked her to have one of her secret meetings in our apartment.



“What about you?” Irene replied showing some distress.



“I’ll be hidden.”



“I don’t know if that’s a good idea…” she said. There was reluctance in her eyes. My wife knew perfectly what I was looking for: an opportunity to watch her with my own eyes.



“Bring him to our bed,” I dared to say.



For a moment, there was a glitter of enthusiasm in her eyes. She was attracted to the naughtiness of it.



“What would I say to him?” she asked and I instantly knew that she would do it.



“Tell him that I’m away on a business trip. Tell him it’s safe.”



“I’ll tell him that I want him in my bed…” Irene said in her playful tone.



“Yes…”



If there was still any reluctance in Irene from then on, she masked it too well. Our adventure was taking a new step.



11.



Irene wanted to lock me in the second bedroom so that her lover couldn’t catch me in the apartment. I couldn’t agree with that, of course. In addition to changing the sheets and hiding all the signs of my presence there, Irene’s behavior on the day of her date was much more modest. There was a different kind of tension in the air this time.



That late afternoon, when she left for her date with her lover, Irene switched off the lights and left me behind in the dark. Then, I placed myself by the window and saw my wife enter her boyfriend’s car. It would be less dangerous if they didn’t meet outside our building, but I trusted Irene’s discretion. Besides, she enjoyed playing the unfaithful wife part.



We had it all planned, nothing could go wrong. However, I had a small surprise for Irene, something that I had planned without her knowledge. I fetched a package I had concealed from her. Inside, there was a full-length mirror, which I purposely placed in our bedroom, facing the bed sideways.



The initial idea came to me a couple of days before. I knew that Irene and I wouldn’t have the chance to communicate with each other. So, I had the idea of a mirror, a big mirror, where she could watch herself with her lover. That way, she would be able to see what I was seeing and maybe realize what I may be feeling. I didn’t know if all of this would make any sense later… but it wouldn’t hurt either. So I went forward with the idea.



Then, I waited, in the dark, by the window, a torturous wait. Jealousy and anxiety were high… as was also my arousal.



My excitement peaked when I noticed their car approaching outside, it manifested itself as a mix of the earlier arousal accompanied by fear. I headed for my hiding place and waited a while longer. The door opened. There were voices. They were inside. The dark surrounding me was disturbed by light coming from one of the other rooms. For a while, the silence was only interrupted by indistinct sounds. They were faint but I could feel they were coming from closer and closer. Then, there was a long period of silence, broken by low voices that seemed to come from our bedroom. Irene had taken her boyfriend there, our intimate place, our sanctuary, just like we had planned. They were probably getting comfortable in the bed where we sleep every night.



I wanted to leave my dark corner and peek outside. But the fear of being caught was too strong. I had to use my head and be patient. So, I waited… I don’t know for how long. Troubled thoughts haunted me. Something was happening between my wife and the black man, I was sure of it. But I was missing it. All that plan and wait would be pointless because I was missing it all. Then, I heard a moan, a female moan. This time, it wasn’t an indistinct sound. It was a perfectly clear moan. I couldn’t wait any longer. So I stepped out of my hideout.



In bare feet, I cautiously walked to the door of my room and peeked outside. Everything was dark, except the light coming from the bedroom where Irene and her companion were supposed to be. I could hear sounds coming from there. They were both there, I was sure of it. Their door was slightly ajar, allowing me to approach their room without being seen. The dark surrounding me would conceal me from their light accustomed eyes, as long as I wasn’t too greedy and went too close. A second moan coming from my wife encouraged me to proceed. So, carefully, I looked inside.

The first impression was a tremendous disappointment. The gap was too small. Only a small part of the bed could be seen. Irene was out of my sight. A third moan sounded. I couldn’t see her but they were somewhere on the bed. I had no choice but to wait for them to move and hope for the best.



Following the last moan, a new voice was heard. This time, it was a male voice, “You like this, don’t you? You like black cock.”



“Yes…” Irene answered.



I felt desperate. My wife and another man were having sex in the room next to me. It was happening a few feet away but I couldn’t see anything.



“Ah, your pussy feels good baby,” the manly voice gladly expressed.



Irene didn’t answer back, but a new moan came from her. All I had from her were those occasional sounds and I appreciated them as precious gifts. I had never realized how hot her voice could sound, maybe because I had never paid enough attention or maybe because I had never made her feel as that man was making her feel. It was the sound of pure lust unleashed.



Then, I was lucky. With a few commands, Irene’s black stud gave me what I needed, “Turn around baby. That’s right… Wait… Face that mirror… Beautiful…”



Suddenly, my wife’s body appeared in my line of sight. I instinctively recoiled behind the door and waited a few seconds before peeking again. Irene was lying on the bed, on her stomach. I could see her beautiful red hair, the light skin of her shoulders, her delicate hands supporting part of her body weight and a small part of her arms and back.



“Spike your ass baby,” he commanded.



Irene reacted by raising her head and facing the mirror where the image of him must have been reflected. I could see by her body language that she was complying with his request too. Then, I witnessed in my wife’s face the seemingly overwhelming sensation of his cock reentering her. Irene’s expression could be translated in two words: so much. So much meat in her; so much pleasure.



“Oh nice pussy…” he encouraged her. “Good girl.”



The difference of age between them wasn’t evident in the way he treated my wife. He was the dominant presence there.



Slowly, Irene’s body relaxed. She let her weight fall onto the bed and her right cheek rested over the sheet. Her face was facing the exit. In fact, she was looking straight at me. For a moment, I thought that she was actually seeing me but her face seemed void of recognition. Irene couldn’t distinguish my presence. The surrounding dark protected me from her eyes. But she was trying, maybe imagining me on the other side of that door.



From behind, her black lover pounded her. I couldn’t see him, but I could sense his presence by the subtle wobble of Irene’s body. He was pounding my wife, but he was taking his time, patiently letting the pleasure take over her. I could see it in Irene’s eyes. I could see the shame and awkwardness but also the lust and satisfaction. With her lover out of sight, it felt as if we were alone, just the two of us.



Then, Irene looked away from me and faced the mirror. She rediscovered her lover’s figure behind her and for a moment the image seemed to astonish her.



“I like this mirror,” he responded to her gaze.



For a while, my wife contemplated the image before her as I was contemplating her. That scene seemed implausible, like a dream. There was a hidden man fucking Irene, my wife. I couldn’t see it but there was a cock in her. It wasn’t a fantasy. It wasn’t a tale or something I was being told of. It was happening before me.



I realized that my pants were partially down and that I was touching myself with my right hand. How humiliating it would be if, by chance, that door opened before me and Irene’s boyfriend discovered me touching myself as I watched them? He would see me stimulating myself at the sight of my wife’s adulterous behavior. He would notice my small penis erect and he would understand why Irene needed him. What would he do if he found me there? Would he leave? Or would he rise to the occasion and keep fucking my wife before my presence.



The hidden man broke the silence, “You’re too quiet today baby. Come on; tell me what you need… Say it.”



Say what, I wondered? I didn’t know what he meant, but Irene’s shy reaction showed that she knew what he intended. Something was telling me that, if I wasn’t there, she wouldn’t be so modest. Then, he added, “I know you like to hear yourself say it and there is no better place to do it than here.”



The words hesitantly came from Irene’s mouth, “I’m a bad girl. I need a big cock.”



“Just any cock?” he insisted.



“No, I need a big black cock. Please, give it to me,” Irene replied.



“What would your husband say if he saw you?”



My wife didn’t answer. Instead, a nervous smile escaped Irene’s mouth. She knew I was there. She knew I was listening to her. He had no idea… Her boyfriend could use her, touch her, defile her body with his cock and her mind with foul ideas, but there was a part of her he couldn’t have. Irene wasn’t looking at me. She wasn’t speaking to me. But, in that moment, I felt her complicity. Her boyfriend couldn’t touch that.



“What would your friends say?” he continued.



Surprisingly, this time, Irene didn’t stay silent, “I want them to know. I want to tell all my girlfriends I’m having a big black cock.”



Irene would never tell this to anyone, I was sure of it. But her determinant words almost led me to question this certainty. Her words were strong, contradicting her submissive posture. Suddenly, a black hand appeared in the scene and pulled my wife out of my line of sight. I could no longer see, only listen to what was being said.



“What would they say in the office if they had caught us?” he said. His tone was confusing me. He seemed to be speaking of something that had really happened. “Look, there goes Irene, a married woman who was caught spreading her white legs on her desk for her black lover.”



Irene had been screwing her boyfriend in the office. Only that once… who knows how many times? My wife had my permission to do as she wished but I didn’t know she was playing outside her nightly dates. This small secret felt like a little betrayal. It meant that she had fully incorporated her new power in our marriage. It strengthened my jealousy but she had nothing to fear. In fact, I wished my wife could have many more secrets.



“Oh fuck! This feels good…” Irene let escape. Whatever he was doing, she was enjoying it. My wife’s body didn’t appear in my line of sight for the rest of the night, with the exception of an arm here and there. I was comfortable staying where I was until the moment she cried in ecstasy. They weren’t over, but the fear of being caught was stronger from then on. I went back to my hideout and, from that place, I absorbed every sound coming from Irene as if it were the last. Through her voice, I was sharing that experience with her. It took a long while until I finally heard our apartment’s door close and my wife came looking for me. Her lover was gone.



12.



Knowing that your wife is having an affair with another man can have quite an impact on you, but nothing comparable to the moment you witness their intimacy with your own eyes. As she was lying on the bed with her companion, I realized how much Irene had changed over the last months.



Unlike what had happened in the past, when she learned that I had spied upon her with her lover, this time Irene wasn’t unsure or fearful.



“Was it as you had dreamed it would be?” she playfully confronted me after her lover left.



I nodded in reply and then asked, “Was it good?”



Irene responded to me with a new question, “Did you not hear me?”



No answer was needed from my part.



Irene didn’t ask if I had left my hideout but, from then on, she always spoke as if I did. Nor did my wife ever talk about her recent office mischief. She showed no discomfort, as it had never been a secret, or as if there wasn’t any need to justify herself. When I touched the subject once, out of curiosity, she simply replied, “I couldn’t restrain myself.” There was defiance in her eyes, as if she was adding, “You like that, don’t you?”



Yes, I did. Not knowing what surprises my wife had in store for me in the future was quite exciting. It was also extraordinary how competent she had become at playing with my mind. The image of my wife lying in bed as her boyfriend fucked her from behind, and the sound of her lascivious moans, drove my libido for weeks. I couldn’t see what could be more intense than that. That experience also touched Irene and I felt her love and proximity more than ever. The effect of that night never disappeared but, with time, some of its intensity faded on both of us.



Meanwhile, as my wife’s extra conjugal life lost its novelty and some of the excitement associated with it also began to fade, my attention moved to a new element. Just like her lingerie before, her dressing was becoming more dashing: an unbuttoned blouse here, a shorter skirt there, nothing too extreme and always very tasteful. Irene was slowly blossoming before me, releasing all the sensuality that was hidden in her. However, she wasn’t changing for me, nor for her lover. Irene was doing it for herself and discovering a new pleasure from it. Our acquaintances noticed the changes and welcomed them as a good thing, not knowing what was behind it.



The intensity of our sex life had been at insane levels for the last months, but it was unrealistic to think it would last forever.



Irene kept seeing her lover. In fact, while our sexual activity was diminishing in frequency and intensity, it seemed that she was spending more and more time with him. Their meetings became more spontaneous instead of the usual scheduled dates. Sometimes, all it took was a phone call or a text message from him. It was also evident that they were screwing around after work on a fairly regular basis.



Irene was happy with her dual life. She had the better of two worlds: a loving and caring husband at home and a secret boyfriend with whom she could play the unfaithful wife without jeopardizing her marriage. For a while, I was content too. But jealousy would take a new role in our story.



Jealousy had always acted as an aphrodisiac in my mind. I had learned to detect it in me and enjoy it. However, with the new developments, it started to acquire a bitter tone. In the beginning I tried to shake it off, but it didn’t go away. Instead, it grew. For the first time I was feeling threatened by my wife’s affair. So, one day, when we were calmly enjoying some time together, I overcame my hesitation and said to her, “I’ve been doing some thinking lately, about our secret, and I think we should move on.”



Irene looked at me and warmly smiled. However, her expression was also showing that she was puzzled with my words.



“I think you should break up with him,” I assertively added.



Instantly, my wife’s smile disappeared. The confusion had been replaced by surprise and unrest. Then, as if she was defending herself from an aggression, she cried, “No!”



Irene’s answer stunned me. Her eyes were open wide and the muscles of her face were tense. The short and resolute answer showed that her decision wasn’t open to discussion. I had never expected such a reaction coming from her, so I didn’t know how to react and said nothing. Irene was openly telling that she would keep seeing her lover, even without my consent.



We spent the greater part of that day in a family event. Anyone who looked at us only saw a married couple in harmony, but the earlier subject was eating me alive and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I’m sure Irene was feeling the same way.



I postponed the imminent conversation until we were both in bed, later at night. However, I had no clue how to begin. So, I leaned over Irene and kissed her on the lips, just to break the ice. Jealousy can be a tricky feeling. All of a sudden, the need to touch her and feel her skin was stronger than everything. I had this strong need to claim her back as if I had lost her for a while. Naturally, our caresses and kisses intensified and we took our sleepwear off.



Suddenly, Irene stopped me. I looked at her and perceived she had something on her mind. My wife gently pushed me way, showing me that she wasn’t rejecting me. I obediently knelt in the bed before her as she seemed to desire. Then, Irene spread her legs, very slowly, exposing her pussy as if she was performing for me: she guided her hand towards her crotch; one finger parted her labia and probed inside; it slowly slid along her skin towards her clit; then she slowly led it to her mouth and savored her own juices.



How could I not love that? The pending conversation had completely slipped my mind.



Irene’s hand went back to her crotch and she began touching herself before me. Her pubic hair was all shaved, as her boyfriend liked. Along with Irene’s mind, her girly parts had also changed. My wife’s pussy had become accustomed to her lover’s extra-large size. Only his cock could ever make her feel full again. That’s why she no longer sought me as a lover as she used to do, I was sure of it. I knew I couldn’t pleasure her anymore.



My jealousy had once again captured my thoughts but my wife woke me up from my trance. I never thought that her performance had a second intention, until the moment she told me, “Lick my cunt. Show me how much you love me.”



The timing of her request wasn’t innocent. My wife knew me too well. She was purposely leading me into a submissive position and, thus, making a point. We weren’t playing a game anymore. When my lips touched her labia, I already knew that my wife wouldn’t end her affair. It didn’t matter if I consented or not. My wife would do as it pleased her. And I would accept it, because I loved her and I was under her spell. When she caressed my hair and pushed my face towards her pussy, I felt rewarded. Irene had full control over me.



13.



From that night on, I could have felt that I was an inmate trapped in a cage, a prisoner of a situation I no longer desired, but it didn’t turn out that way after all. My wife’s portrayed self-confidence and dominion impressed me and convinced me that this was how our marriage was going to be, at least for the time being.



There were times when jealousy was more prominent than ever and our sexual activity never regained its earlier glory. Nevertheless, I was happy to be living her fantasy. In fact, although I would have been content if my wife had proceeded according to my request, part of me loved the moment she said “no”.



One day, when we were playing with each other in bed, Irene asked me, “Want to try something new?” Then she handed me a condom, playfully knelt on all fours before me and said, “Put it in my other hole.”



We had never done it before, so I was both surprised and excited by the prospect of trying something new. But nothing had prepared me for the wonder and shock I felt when I witnessed my wife taking my penis without any seemingly effort. This is how I learned that it wasn’t Irene’s first time.



On another occasion, I find out that Irene was letting her lover cum inside of her, when she left a pair of sperm-filled panties on our bedroom floor. I knew that her underwear hadn’t been forgotten there. Irene had planted them, after one of her dates, so that I could find them and learn what she had been doing with her boyfriend.



Only these occasional discoveries could break our newly mundane routine. Our relationship resembled the old days, but it wasn’t due to Irene’s apparent lack of interest in sex, as before. This time, my wife was having plenty of cock, just not from me.



I wanted more, but the joyful look on Irene’s face was enough to assuage any troubled feelings I could be having. My wife was happy and I was happy for her. I was still her husband, the man she loved, the man with whom she spent most of her free time and shared the most significant moments of her life. In the end, no matter how much fun she could be having with her boyfriend, Irene would always come back to me.



Then, one day, without prior notice, the sky fell on my head.



“I’m pregnant…” Irene said to me.



My wife had been waiting for me to come home from work. When I saw her, I immediately noticed that something had happened and that she had something to tell me. Irene was deeply troubled and her voice trembled.



I was so surprised that, in the beginning, I didn’t realize the full extent of Irene’s words.



“Dwayne…” Irene nervously added. Dwayne… Despite being a constant presence in my wife’s life, a long time had passed since we had pronounced his name to each other. Her lover had no name. He was nobody, just a sex toy to be used at will. “Dwayne is the father,” she continued in a begging tone as if she was expecting me to make it right.



I couldn’t believe it. It couldn’t be true.



“Are you sure?” I asked, still numb from the shock and unable to clearly think. “How did that happen?”



“Yes, I’m sure,” Irene replied as if she was about to break into tears.



I didn’t doubt her certainty. I couldn’t remember the last time I had been inside my wife, much less the last time I had cum in her. Lately, Irene had become her boyfriend’s propriety. Only he touched her in a sexual way.



After such a blow, neither of us was thinking straight nor in condition to make any decision. We had to calm ourselves and consider the options. However, for Irene, there was only one possible path, “I’m having this baby.”



At the time, I didn’t contradict her. Her decision wasn’t set in stone, especially when it had been made at such a troubled time. Later, we got back to it. However, no matter the consequences, Irene didn’t change her mind.



“I want this baby,” she insisted.



For a few days I still entertained the idea I could change her plans. But, sooner or later, I had to face reality. My wife was pregnant. Irene was having a baby from another man.



I was trapped and powerless before her decision. I could break up our marriage and leave her… This option was at my disposal, but I loved her too much to take this path. I couldn’t live without Irene.



We had played with fire but the price I had to pay seemed unfairly high. In the moment that child comes to this world, everyone would know that it wasn’t mine. Everyone would know that Irene had fucked another man. Everyone would know that I had been cuckolded with a black guy. I couldn’t pretend otherwise.



In the end, I resigned myself to bear all this punishment out of love for my wife. I accepted my fate. She was pregnant by another man. Irene had welcomed her black lover’s seed and, now, there was a part of him growing in her. Nothing would be the same in our lives.



For a short while, this all seemed like a bad dream that I would wake from at any time. On the other hand, despite the circumstances and after the initial shock, Irene couldn’t hide the happiness her condition was giving to her. This happiness numbed me and confused me, at first, but slowly changed me and I embraced it.



My Irene, my sweet Irene was having a baby from another man, a black child. Just when I was beginning to accept the idea of Irene having the baby, and I was beginning to conform, I found out that Irene was still seeing her lover.



14.



I thought that my wife’s pregnancy had changed her priorities. I thought that we had both learned our lesson and her affair was history. For a while, it seemed that way. Then, all of a sudden, it started all over again.



I tried to endure it, the best I could. Irene was still my wife and she loved me, but her lover was the father of her future child. I couldn’t see how she could maintain their relationship just at a sexual level. That guy had to leave our lives for good.



Then, one night, Irene slept away from our bed and only came home after sunrise. I spent all night long tormenting myself: imagining Irene sleeping next to her black lover; holding him while they slept; waking up next to him. Worse of all was not knowing if she would come back to me at all… but she did.

I was losing my wife. I couldn’t stand still, so I confronted her. Although I didn’t mean it to end up that way, soon a strong argument had taken shape. All I wanted was to put some sense in Irene’s head but it was pointless.



“Dwayne always dreamed of having a son,” Irene said at a given moment.



One single sentence was enough to unleash all my fury. Who cares about his dreams or desires? Irene was my wife, not his. After a while, it was all about unloading my frustration.



“Do you think that he loves you? Do you think that he cares for you, as I do?” I viciously said. “You’re just a prize to him, a white slut with whom he can have fun and brag to his friends later. Is that what you want to be for the rest of your life? A slut who gets pregnant by a black guy she hardly knows?”



Irene still tried to contain herself but I could see hate in her eyes, “I never wanted to be in bed with him. You’re the one who was obsessed by it.”



“I never asked you to get pregnant. I never asked you to take his filthy cum. You did it because you wanted to, because you’re a slut!”



All the anger and frustration I had repressed since I had learned my wife was pregnant was finally coming out. It felt good. My words were hurting her, humiliating her as she had done to me. I could see it in her eyes.



For a moment, I thought my wife was going to cry, but she was much stronger than that.



“That’s right. I’m a slut. I love my black boyfriend and his big black cock. Did I ever tell you how big he is? It’s huge! He can brag to whomever he wants because I’m his,” Irene challenged me. Her voice was low, almost a whisper. Her tone was provocative. If it weren’t for the hatred in her eyes, I could almost think that she was trying to arouse me. Her reasoning was increasingly vicious and hurtful, “I’m his since the first moment he touched me. Take a good look at yourself… at your little dick. Did you really think you could compete with him?”



I wanted to fight back, but all I could do was insult her, “Fucking cunt!”



Irene didn’t stop, “Now I’m pregnant… his child. It takes a real man to knock up a woman. I’m so proud for carrying his baby.”



Irene touched her belly, a genuinely gentle and loving gesture in the middle of so much hatred. Her mouth opened, as if she was going to continue her speech, but her mind changed. There had been enough abuse already. Then she left and I didn’t see her for the rest of the day. The following day, when I got home, I found her there, waiting for me with her bags packed.



“Dwayne asked me to move in with him,” Irene simply said.



There wasn’t any hate or anger in either of us, only sorrow. I wanted to tell her to stay, but my pride was too strong to allow me to ask.



For months, my fantasy had granted both of us pleasure and fun but it had derailed. Had it all been an illusion and a big mistake? Now that she was pregnant by her lover, he would be a lasting presence in her life forever.



Irene left and I knew it was for good. I felt devastated.



15.



Irene was gone. After sharing my life with her for more than twelve years, I didn’t know what to do. All I knew is that I still loved my wife and I missed her. I convinced myself that the best way to deal with my wounds would be to let her go and move on. So, from then on, I tried to avoid anything that could remind me of Irene. Still, it was only a matter of time until I would meet her again…



One day, I was walking on the street when I saw her from afar. I should have immediately turned my back from her and gotten out of there before she could see me. Instead, I sought a hiding place, from which I could safely observe her. No matter how much it could hurt me, I wanted to see her and know how she was doing.



Irene was beautiful… more beautiful than ever. As mild and predictable as they could be, the changes on her reminded me that her life had also moved on after our break-up. Her lovely red hair was longer and she was wearing a long, maternity dress. Underneath, Irene exhibited a huge and proud pregnancy belly, very close to giving birth. She looked like a mom, a happy mom, and I wished that baby could be mine. In fact, for a moment, I felt as if she was still my wife. But then, out of nowhere came her black companion to meet her, thus breaking my spell.



They held hands and continued their path side by side. Apparently, there was nothing in common between them, but both their postures demonstrated fulfillment and satisfaction for being with each other. Irene grabbed his muscled arm, a possessive gesture, as if she didn’t want to leave any doubt to the passersby that they were together and her baby was his. The black guy was younger, bigger and stronger than me. He was more physically fit to protect Irene and satisfy her needs. No wonder my wife preferred him over me.



After following them for a few seconds, I walked away resigned to the knowledge that Irene belonged to another man now.



Only one last step was necessary to close this chapter of my life: the divorce. Many times, I thought about it, however, I didn’t go through with it. Maybe some part of me wished to maintain one last, faint glimmer of hope. Occasionally, I imagined Irene knocking on my door with the divorce papers in her hand. At these moments, I wished never to see her again. Anyway, I would give her the divorce if she wished, but I wasn’t contacted by her or by anyone on her behalf.



For months I tried to deal with my wounds. It was hard, in the beginning, but time heals everything and soon Irene became a memory.



One day, at the supermarket, an attractive blonde woman approached me. Her name was Bea, one of those acquaintances from my past that I avoided ever since Irene and I had broken up. Bea took the initiative to come talk with me. The first contact was pleasant, so I didn’t push her away. After shopping, we went for a coffee together and this led to another meeting the next day. Bea kept showing interest in being with me and we became much closer than we had ever been before.



At this point of my life, all I sought was peace and quiet, exactly the opposite of what Bea could give to me. Bea was a married woman with two children. But most importantly, she was Irene’s boss and a good friend of hers. If the plan was to stay away from anyone who could remind me of Irene, hooking up with Bea was a bad idea.



Anyway, it felt good to receive the attention of that woman, whom I had always felt physically attracted to. My confidence with her grew. One day, I tried to kiss her and she didn’t reject me. It seemed like that Bea wanted me as much as I wanted her. With her, I remembered the pleasure and the thrill of flirting and seducing a woman other than my wife. The more often I spent time with Bea, the more distant and forgettable my past seemed to be. Soon, I would know her body, her skin, her moans… Although our relationship had no future, Bea was slowly becoming part of my life.



Then, one day, someone knocked on my door. It was Irene.



16.



Only one reason seemed plausible for Irene’s presence in her former house: the dreaded divorce. I searched for the infamous papers in her hands or a suitable briefcase, but she wasn’t carrying any.



“I just wanted to know how you were doing,” Irene simply said. “Can I come in?”



I welcomed her in and we chatted. Just like the day she left our house, there wasn’t anger or bad words.



We were both behaving as if the person before us was only a vague acquaintance. There was an invisible barrier between us. I hadn’t seen her for eighteen months, but it felt like eighteen years.



The signs of her pregnancy were completely gone and she seemed in great shape. Irene looked like a different woman. Her red hair was longer than ever and she kept it loose and smooth, which made her appear much younger. The skirt was short and daring. Although I knew Irene’s body very well, when she sat in front of me and crossed her legs, it was hard not to stare at them. Her make-up was less conservative and more refined, without masking her natural beauty.



The blossoming I had been witnessing before our break up was complete. Irene had become a gorgeous woman, unattainable for the common mortal. Underneath those clothes and self-confidence, there was still the same body I had known for years. But now it seemed much more alluring and desirable than ever before, entirely out of my reach.



We both talked about our recent lives and, slowly, the ice began to melt. Irene spoke about her new role as a mother, conveniently avoiding any mention of Dwayne or any other awkward subject. No matter how much time had passed or how different she looked on the outside, I could still see the woman with whom I had fallen in love in the tender way she talked about her child or in the way she smiled.



Irene also wanted to hear news about me. I couldn’t tell her about Bea, even if I wanted to, although that was the most exciting thing that had happened to me since our break up, but, surprisingly, she seemed to already know about it.



After circling around the subject for a while, Irene bluntly said, “So… you have been seeing Bea…”



For a moment, I didn’t know what to say. Was she trying to confirm a suspicion or did she know the facts? Bea was a married woman and I didn’t want to put her in a difficult spot. Noticing my discomfort, Irene added, “She told me… We confide this stuff to each other.”



Irene and Bea had always been good friends. But it seemed unbelievable to me that Bea would share this kind of information with her friend.



“She asked my permission… to see you,” Irene continued as if it served as a justification for her knowledge.



“What did you answer?” I dared to ask.



“I said no… I told her you were mine,” she outrageously said. For a moment, we kept silent, staring at each other. Then, Irene’s expression opened in a big smile and the gravity of her words was lost in a friendly laughter. “I was joking… I didn’t say that to her, obviously. I’m sorry,” she added.



It was probably just a small joke to break the ice between us, but I couldn’t help myself from thinking that, maybe, she really meant it. Maybe she was feeling jealous of Bea… Maybe she wanted me back…



Irene didn’t disclose her hidden intentions, if there were any. For all purposes, she only wanted to know how I was doing. However, her visits didn’t stop with that first one. In fact, it quickly became a regular routine for Irene to visit me at our former marital home. Rapidly, my recent interest in Bea faded away and Irene reentered my life. Although we weren’t back together, I began seeing her as my wife again.



Then, one day, Irene casually said, “Dwayne and I don’t live together anymore… and we haven’t for quite some time.” It was the first time she had mentioned him in our conversations.



I excitedly welcomed the news but concealed it from Irene. Instead, I subtly tried to explore more, “So… you broke up…”



“We still see each other… often,” Irene clarified.



How could I have thought otherwise? Dwayne was the father of Irene’s child. Anyway, despite the dismay and jealousy caused by her last words, I couldn’t help myself from feeling a new hope. Irene had reentered my life out of her own initiative and, maybe, this could be the start of a new beginning for us.



My enthusiasm had its ups and downs. There were times when I felt that Irene was trying to resume our marriage. However, whenever I tried to take our proximity one step closer, she always stopped me and made me feel as a friend; a good friend, but only a friend though. The seemingly duplicity of her behavior was torturous. This gorgeous teaser was playing with me. Irene was both familiar and unknown; she was simultaneously my wife and the woman I had never had.



I desired her more than anything, so, one day, I tried to kiss her. Irene allowed my approach and our lips touched for a brief moment. But then she took a small step backwards and her hand, against my chest, prevented me from following her.



“Do you still fantasize about me and other men?” she surprisingly asked.



Irene’s question caught me off guard.



“Now, I do… Again,” I cautiously replied. I had never had these fantasies about Bea, during our short lived relationship. Only Irene, my wife, could awaken this desire in me and make me feel this way.



Irene’s question could have been just a test. After my answer, she could have knocked down the door on her way out and left my life for good, knowing that I hadn’t learned my lesson. This would make sense…



Indeed, Irene would leave in a minute. But before she left, she smiled at me and asked, “Do you want to go out with me this Friday night?”



An emotional flood of excitement and happiness overwhelmed me after hearing her words.



“Yes,” I instantly replied.



Irene noticed my happiness, for sure. Her last words encouraged me even further, “I have missed you…”



17.



Irene picked the restaurant. Much to my surprise, it was the same place where my wife and her lover had been on their first date. Although I had never told her that I had spied on them that evening, Irene’s choice didn’t seem innocent. Maybe she knew that I had been there before…



Irene was gorgeous with a short and youthful pencil skirt. When I first saw her wearing it, I fell in love with her all over again.



After a few weeks of advances and setbacks, Irene was no longer treating me like a friend, although we weren’t behaving as husband and wife either. There was romance in the air, something natural and fresh. Irene was flirting with me and using her sex appeal and lovely personality to conquer me back. I gladly let myself sail in the ocean of her charms.



At one point, our hands touched and I realized that Irene was wearing our wedding ring. Maybe she had never stopped wearing it and I had just realized it. But seeing that precious band around her finger seemed like a good omen. Irene noticed my reaction, I was sure of it. She didn’t say anything, but the affection evident in her tender eyes warmed me inside.



Later, my hopefulness grew, when Irene invited me to her apartment.



“What about your baby?” I nervously asked realizing that I was touching an uncomfortable subject.



“Don’t worry… It’s all taken care off for this night,” Irene replied. Only later I would realize the full meaning of these words.



The apartment had been rented just for Irene and her child. It was comforting to see that there was no sign of her black companion ever having been there. The farther away she was from him, the more confident I felt about having my wife back.



Irene led me by hand to her bedroom. A few seconds later, we were kissing passionately on the bed, physically resuming our marriage. I was lying on my back and she had climbed on top of me. It had been hard to notice the stunning woman that Irene had become and not be able to touch or feel her anymore. When she guided my hands to her lustful thighs, it felt too good to be true. When she seductively took off her clothes and I saw a sexy black bra cupping her breasts, it felt like a dream. I couldn’t believe I was in bed with such a gorgeous woman.



Everything had been flowing naturally and lightly, obeying no predetermined script… But my wife had made additional plans for that night.



Irene was opening my pants when, suddenly, I heard noise coming from inside the apartment. A few seconds later, I noticed that someone was at the entrance of our room.



My wife quickly assured me, “Relax… He is my guest tonight.”



Before my mind could focus on the intruder, Irene had resumed her hot kisses and we kept making out before this disquieting presence who silently observed us from a few feet away. I didn’t need to be told who that person was. Until that moment, I had thought that this was supposed to be a romantic night between two reconciled married people. But Irene’s plan also included the man by whom she had gotten pregnant; the man that had taken her from me.



This time, I wasn’t spying from afar or hiding behind a door. My cuckold condition was exposed for my wife’s boyfriend to see. At least, I could feel Irene’s body brushing against mine, smell the perfume on her skin and feel her soft hand touching my hard-on inside my clothes.



For a while, I had my wife’s attention concentrated entirely on me, despite the other man’s presence. For once I knew the feeling of being observed by a third party. Irene lowered my pants and underwear, and caressed my penis before her lover. It was so easy to let myself go with her wishes…



“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” she whispered to me approving of my condition. Irene had me pinned under her body and my hands hadn’t moved away from her legs, as if I were too bewildered by this situation or too afraid of letting her go. Then, while she stretched her arm towards him, Irene called, “Dwayne…”



The black man approached the bed, an uncomfortable and unwanted presence for me. There were no words between us. Any attempt to speak in that moment would be awkward and ridiculous. We were both there for Irene, period. Without being asked, the black man began taking off his pants right in front of her. My eyes took refuge in my wife, who watched her black lover undressing. After a few seconds, she looked at me and our eyes met. My wife was silently communicating that it was time for her to leave me for him.



Irene knelt on the bed before the black man. All the regret and disappointment I had felt, due to his presence there, disappeared the moment she began unbuttoning his shirt and her hands touched his muscled chest. My wife paused and stared at his naked torso for a couple of seconds. Irene was a goddess, powerful and desirable beyond measure, but, in that moment, she was the one who seemed to be worshipping his body. Then, Irene kissed his chest. It was both tender and lustful. I could feel the affection she had for him in the air. An old, familiar feeling called jealousy dominated me and I felt as if something had just been broken inside me. Despite the pain, I didn’t wish Irene to stop. At least for one more night, she was still my wife, and I desired to see her being taken in the way she deserved.



Still lying in the bed, half naked, I felt bound by the sight of my wife’s actions. I didn’t dare to move, afraid that any movement from my part could be misinterpreted.



Irene looked back at me and took my hand. Guided by her will, I left the bed and stood up next to her black lover. Irene sat on the bed between us. My gaze took shelter in her face. I didn’t know how to act or where to look. It felt so much safer to simply do what Irene wished me to do. My stare didn’t leave my wife even when, from the corner of my eye, I sensed her pulling down her boyfriend’s underwear. Then, her right hand took hold of my penis and her touch felt desperately good.



Irene looked upwards right in my eyes but said nothing. Instead, I witnessed her gaze moving to my crotch firstly and then to the crotch of the other man. Then, she looked back at me. I knew what my wife desired, so I mimicked her behavior. I looked down at my crotch and then to the huge cock next to me.



My erect penis was as hard as it could be, the proof of the arousing effect that seeing my wife touch another man had on me. I already knew that it was small. But when I looked to my right, this smallness seemed to attain a new dimension. Irene was holding her boyfriend’s black cock with her left hand. It was mostly flaccid still, but his manhood already greatly surpassed the size of my full hard-on. I felt like a small boy before a man. My inadequacy felt like an open invitation for the black man to take my wife at his will. I couldn’t compete with him.



Irene took my hand and invited me to sit next to her on the bed. Once again, I obeyed her hoping to observe my wife touching her black lover from a closer position, although this lower position made me feel awkward and embarrassed due to the fact that his cock hung right in front of my eyes.

“So big…” Irene whispered. Despite the uncomfortable position, Irene’s warm words forced me to stare at her boyfriend’s manhood. From this perspective, it looked even thicker and more impressive, one proud piece of cockmeat. The skin was dark brown, with the exception of the pinkish tone of his huge glans peeking from the inside of his foreskin, and his pubic hair was trimmed short.



“A real man’s cock,” Irene whispered in my ear. The apparent harshness of her words clashed with the warm and caring tone of her voice. Then, her lips brushed my ear and she added, “But I still love you.” Irene was still my wife, both on paper and in her heart. A wave of excitement and happiness lifted my spirit. Soon, that big black cock would be inside of my wife but I would still know that she hadn’t forgotten our love.



My heart beat fast. I was drunk from so much happiness and arousal, and from so much pain and jealousy. Irene licked her lips and I wished her to handle her boyfriend’s cock as soon as possible. The situation was overwhelming, much more intense than I had anticipated in my wildest fantasies. However, my wife wasn’t content and she wished to feed the insanity even more.



With clear shock, I heard Irene whispering to me, “Touch it.” I knew perfectly well what she meant with those two words, but I chose to disregard it as a vain challenge from a teaser. However, Irene didn’t stop there. “Touch it, please,” she insisted. How could she be asking me to do this?



My wife had to know that I would never do such a thing of my own volition. She had to know I didn’t want to touch his cock. Anyway, Irene gently took my hand with the clear purpose to lead it to her intended destination.



“Feel it, like I felt it once… The touch of a real man’s cock for the first time,” she whispered though. I could have stopped her… However, at that moment, confused by the sensual voice of that gorgeous woman, I truthfully desired to know how it felt like to touch that giant piece of cockmeat. I wanted to know what Irene had felt that evening in the parking lot, when she touched her lover’s manhood for the first time.



So, I let my hand be guided to the soft dark skin. My fingers enveloped his shaft and I instantly felt it getting stiffer. Then, Irene’s palm covered mine and instructed my hand to move. “Pump my boyfriend’s cock stiff and hard for me,” my wife encouraged softly. As the foreskin of that uncut cock was being pulled, slowly, his giant and shining glans became exposed. Then, Irene released my hand and I continued the intended motion on my own. She reached for his huge ball sac, too big and full for her small hand to envelop, and caressed her lover.



My hand had a will of its own, but the rest of my body was tense. The last thing I desired was to face Irene or the man whose cock I was stimulating. He had already taken so much from me in the past. At that moment, my submission was empowering him even more, enhancing his masculinity before Irene’s eyes. Through my action, I was admitting my inferiority to my wife’s boyfriend. He was the man there. Only he was good enough to please a woman like Irene.



18.



My head was down but my eyes were set on the big tool I was holding. Under those circumstances it seemed like the only place fit for me to look. With each stroke of my hand, the hard-on became greater and greater, forcing the member to become proudly erect. I couldn’t help admiring and envying that powerful piece of black meat.



“I’m so horny… I can’t wait to take that big cock deep inside of me,” Irene softly said to me.



Finally, I overcame my embarrassment and looked at my wife. Irene smiled at me and I felt her love and excitement. Somehow, that moment seemed only ours, as if we were the only people present in the room. All of a sudden, just by looking at my wife’s beautiful and tender face, holding another man’s cock didn’t seem so dramatic.



After a few seconds, Irene’s smile opened wider and it seemed to carry some encrypted message. My wife left the bed. When she knelt on the floor before her black lover, I felt a strong arousing discharge in my body. I desperately anticipated the moment Irene would take over the action and become the star of the show. However, I can’t deny that, after what had happened before, I feared my wife’s plans. When Irene asked me to join her and kneel on the floor, I knew that my fears were justified.



Still, despite my concealed distress, I did as my wife asked of me. Once again, I was submitting to Irene’s hung lover when I knelt before his erection.



“I want to see you touch him… with your lips,” Irene whispered. I looked at her in shock. My eyes were saying no but Irene insisted, “I promise… it feels great.”



I didn’t want to feel great. I didn’t want to do it. All I wanted was to be with my wife again. For a moment, I felt a rebellion taking form inside of me. Wasn’t it enough that he could take my wife whenever he wished? Hadn’t it been enough to see my wife pregnant with his child? He already had so much. How could Irene love me and use me like this?



“No,” I murmured in a desperate tone. My eyes were begging her to drop the outrageous idea.



“It’s too late to be ashamed,” Irene teased me. I realized that I shouldn’t have gone so far to please my wife. Irene approached her mouth to my ear and softly said, “You already pumped him hard… This will be our secret.” As if her words weren’t enough, her hand held my penis and she slowly began to stroke it. “Do it for me. I want to watch… Suck his hard cock for me,” she insisted in the same tone. “You will love the feeling… like I do.”



I was desperately looking for a way out of that situation. The sound of her voice on my ear was both enchanting and torturous. I had to make a stand, didn’t I? But what if I stopped fighting? What if I just gave up? All I had to do was stop worrying and take comfort that I was only doing as my wife desired.



I looked at Irene one more time. This time, I was begging her for help to overcome the last barrier of reluctance, so that all the pain could stop. Instead, Irene caressed the hair in the back of my head and gently encouraged me to take that fateful, unfathomable action; there, on my knees, she urged me towards her lover’s erect cock.



“Lick your lips,” my wife instructed. “Feel how smooth he feels.”



My right hand secured the black cock and I licked my lips. A strong manly scent invaded my nostrils when I purposely avoided his glans and touched the hard shaft with my mouth. Just like Irene had said, the skin was soft, almost silky. I had never realized before how smooth a hard cock could be.



“Feel his big head…” Irene encouraged.



I obeyed my wife and turned my attention to the huge glans. It was impressive how sensitive such a powerful and muscled tool could feel against my own lips. Moved by some curiosity, I dared to touch the silky head with the tip of my tongue. Irene reacted with visible pleasure, “That’s it… Don’t think, just let yourself go…”



I could feel the weight of Irene’s eyes upon me and the approval in her words and excited breath. After the initial impact, the manly scent didn’t feel as strong and strange anymore and, somehow, it was adding an arousing new dimension to the situation.



Irene put in words what I didn’t dare to think, “It tastes like man…”



My tongue left my mouth, increasing the contact with his cockhead and I timidly explored the sensitive area. Now that my resistance had been conquered, my wife’s requests seemed oddly easy to accomplish.



“Go on… Open your mouth,” Irene continued.



As commanded, I opened my mouth and let the huge glans slid inside slowly. The black man released a pleased moan. This unexpected sound broke my spell, and I remembered that my actions were being done to a man.



Irene also reacted to the moment and she softly teased me, “How does it feel to have your mouth full?”



The huge cock slid backwards and I hesitated to proceed. I couldn’t believe I had a black cock in my mouth. I couldn’t believe I was willingly giving head to another man. How did my wife lead me to this?



“It’s overwhelming, isn’t it?” Irene continued in the same tone, as her hand in my crotch regained life and stimulated me. “You know what you have to do. Please him… make my black stud feel good. Do it with pride.”



I shockingly realized that I wanted to proceed. I wanted to keep sucking on that big black piece of cockmeat. But I wanted to do it for my wife and not for another man’s pleasure. I desperately desired there could be a way of doing it without his presence…



“I’m so horny,” Irene whispered, “Suck Dwayne’s big cock.”



I never imagined myself giving a blowjob… But the damage had already been done and Irene’s presence and evident excitement was enough to conquer all my doubts and distress. So I embraced my destiny as a cocksucker. I took Dwayne’s manhood inside of me and I used my hand and all my mouth to worship it. My lips, my tongue, the inside of my mouth and my saliva all became tools in the service of that big black cock for a while.



Irene’s warm whispers kept encouraging me to continue. The gentle stroking of her hand in my crotch felt great and kept reassuring me of her intents. But this enjoyment also carried a good volume of guilt. It felt wrong to feel good when I was pleasuring another man.



Suddenly, I felt a salty fluid unexpectedly coming from the big cock into my mouth. The limited portion of pre-cum first touched my tongue, but then its taste spread to every corner, until all my mouth was tainted by this manly fluid.



At this point, Irene stopped me. I don’t know if she had read it in my expression, but when her lips touched mine I realized that she already knew how I would taste. Then, my wife’s tongue invaded my mouth and she kissed me with eagerness. When contact was finally broken, Irene whispered in my ear, “I’ll never forget this moment. From now on, whenever I kiss you, I’ll always remember Dwayne’s cock.”



How could she say such things to me? Irene’s words were outrageous but also a powerful aphrodisiac. After overcoming the initial shock, I just smiled. I smiled at my wife, because her words had betrayed that she intended to kiss me many more times in the future.



“Now, finish off your man,” my wife commanded.



Despite her provoking words, I focused my attention back on the big cock and resumed the blowjob. This time, Irene’s hand joined mine and she increased the stimulating pace on the black cock.



“You’re so good at it,” she said, an embarrassing encouragement. “Look at your lover’s face.”



Irene wanted me to look upwards at the black man. A new wave of reluctance prevented me from doing as she wished. Despite what I had already done that night, this seemed to take these outrageous acts one step further than I could voluntarily proceed.



“Look at his eyes while you have his cock in your mouth,” Irene insisted. Despite my reluctance, I once again succumbed to my wife’s wishes. With his black cock buried in my mouth, I awkwardly looked upwards and rediscovered the face of the man I was giving head to. “You’re his now,” Irene added.



By looking at him, I was acknowledging his presence. His name sounded inside of my mind: Dwayne



When my eyes met his, I saw in him an undisputed superiority. In that moment, I didn’t felt like a man. In his mind, my wife and I were two promiscuous white sluts who couldn’t get enough of black cock. And in that moment I had to agree with his conclusion. I realized that this was how I would feel in the future, if I ever met him again.



“Oh yeah… that feels good…” the black man said as he focused his stare on my wife.



I closed my eyes and my attention went back exclusively to the huge member. Just like Irene had asked of me earlier, I felt myself proud, a guilty pride, for being able to handle such an amazing cock; a remarkable specimen, worthy of my submission.



“I don’t have to see Dwayne alone anymore. Now, we can both pleasure him… together… as a couple,” Irene said, this time out loud, maybe sensing my ultimate surrender.



Dwayne moaned again and I knew he was almost cumming. His hand secured my head in place, assuring his cock wouldn’t slip out of my mouth at the moment of his release. I guess I could have freed myself, but I hesitated.



Irene encouraged me, “Let him cum in your mouth.”



Again I felt myself wronged. It wasn’t fair. I had never lived the experience of having my wife taking my cum in her mouth, yet she desired me to do it for her black lover.



Anyway, my hand’s pace increased and I waited with my eyes closed.



“Oh fuck…” the manly voice said along with an intense moan.



A powerful shot of sperm hit the back of my throat, forcing me to open my eyes wide. I couldn’t believe a man was ejaculating in my mouth. How could I ever live with it?



“Swallow,” Irene whispered in my ear, long before he had finished.



Shot after shot, his massive balls filled me with their thick semen. When I felt it was over, I released the powerful member and swallowed the sperm as my wife suggested. While sliding off my mouth, his huge glans brushed in my lips and chin, leaving one last trace of his sperm. Irene didn’t seem to hesitate. She leaned over me and licked the remnants of his semen from my face. At the same time, the speed of her hand in my crotch increased insanely, driving me to orgasm in a matter of seconds. Her boyfriend was already in the bed, enjoying the lasting effects of his climax, when my cum fell wasted on the floor where he had been standing. On the other hand, the black man’s fluids were in my mouth, in my throat, in my stomach and soon would reach my blood and spread all over my body, changing me and becoming part of me.



“It’s my turn,” my wife said.



19.



All my excitement emptied me after the orgasm. My wife had aroused me to do the unthinkable and only now I felt capable of understanding the obvious consequences. How could she ever love and respect her husband, after witnessing me sucking another man’s cock and swallowing his seed? I was only a sex toy, a means to an end. When Irene climbed on top of her black lover, she didn’t seem to know that I existed anymore.



I grabbed my pants and underwear. Maybe it was best for me to leave. My presence there seemed pointless. Embarrassed, I couldn’t even look at them. While I was composing myself, I imagined myself leaving that room, that apartment, without them even noticing my absence. I imagined myself having to face the people outside, too ashamed and afraid that someone could read in my sore jaw or in my sperm-breath the signs of my humiliation. It would be my personal walk of shame. Then I imagined myself sleeping in my bed, alone, once again.



Fortunately, Irene had other plans for me. When my wife noticed me getting dressed, she asked, “What are you doing?” I didn’t answer. Instead, I approached her and she invited me to be in the bed next to her, “Come here.”



My wife’s bra and panties were gone. She was naked on top of her lover. There was an evident contrast between their bodies: his blackness against her light skin; his huge hands grabbing her small waist; her fragile body yielding to his prominent muscles. The black man’s cock was hard again. Not even the lewd movements of my wife’s pussy rubbing on her boyfriend’s shaft seemed capable of waking my small, flaccid cock from its embarrassing slumber.



When Irene guided the hard cock to her entrance and he pushed it in, I saw the same overwhelmed expression in her face I had witnessed on the day I had spied on them from behind a door. The big black cock quickly disappeared inside my wife, with amazing ease. The black man rose to his feet, lifting my wife by her thighs in the process, without exiting her pussy, and pinned her against the nearest naked wall. Irene’s body shook due to the cold surface against her back. Then, he fucked her there. The movements of his waist advertised that he was slowly driving his cock deep. At the same time, there was a peace of mind in Irene’s countenance. Her stare was set on me. Dwayne’s cock was buried inside of her, but I felt her eyes making love with me.



These hypnotic movements seemed to last forever. Dwayne was patient and tireless. Irene’s weight was insignificant to his strong arms.



When they were both ready, my wife’s lover took her back to the bed. I watched him tease her and, without shame, Irene begged for his black cock. Then, he fucked her hard, and she accepted his raw enthusiasm with delight.



The black man was using my wife’s body and she was enjoying being used. The more he manhandled her, the more Irene liked the treatment. My earlier guilt and dismay vanished. I was mesmerized by the lewd excitement of my wife as she was being taken by her black stud. I felt good for her. I felt proud of her. This was the woman I had always desired Irene to become.



My wife came once. The black man diminished the intensity of his thrusts, but he didn’t stop. He just kept fucking her, since her body was entirely at his disposal. New signs of pleasure began to show in Irene’s countenance and, after a long while of wild pleasure, she came a second time.



As her pleasure continued, he put my wife on all fours. Irene obeyed to him gladly. But, while I was expecting him to keep pounding her, she now took control. Irene’s body began to sway, forward and backwards, along the big black pole. He didn’t have to do anything; it was as if she were fucking him. My wife still had the strength to guide her lover to ecstasy on her own. These soft and bewitching movements were enough to lead any man to madness. I admired her stamina. I worshipped her boldness.



Dwayne didn’t even bother to take his cock out of my wife. He just shot his load inside of her, as I am sure he was used to doing. Then, he collapsed on top of my Irene and she gently embraced him. After such a display of sensuality, I envied that man. I wished I could be the one who was in her arms.



20.



After my wife and her lover were done, I feared for a moment of awkwardness. Much to my surprise, Dwayne got dressed and left. Just like that. Still, before his departure, Irene affectionately kissed him goodbye. Once again, I realized that he would never leave my wife’s life.



After he was gone, Irene came back to me and we cuddled in the bed. The memories of my earlier deeds came back to haunt me but she seemed calm and peaceful. We stayed like this for a while, until my wife decided to break the silence.



First, Irene giggled and then she said, “I can’t believe you sucked Dwayne’s cock.”



My wife seemed like one of those kids who dares us to do something stupid and, when we do it, then mocks us. I wished there could be a nearby hole into which I could crawl. My wife would never forget what I had done that night.



Irene still seemed calm, free from any drama. So I dared to ask, “Why?” I hoped she could understand what I meant, without forcing me to put into words what had happened before.



“I guess it began the day I first saw Dwayne’s cock,” Irene began. “I wished you were there with me… somehow. It grew. Somewhere along the path I started to imagine us sharing his big cock. This fantasy turned me on…”



I wasn’t convinced.



“Why would any woman fantasize about her husband…?” I hesitated for a moment. Then I continued, “It doesn’t make any sense.”



“Why would any man fantasize about his wife having sex with another man?” Irene replied.



I opened my mouth to argue back, but then I realized what she meant.



“Why didn’t you say anything before? Why didn’t you ask me?” I insisted.



Again, Irene replied with an answer, “Would you have accepted it if I had asked you in advance?”



“You manipulated me…”



“Yes,” Irene answered and, at the same time, she caressed my face. Then she caringly added, “Just like you manipulated me before.”

I grab your arm and push you against the wall. I press against you, spreading your legs with my feet, holding your wrists tightly in my hands, your breasts crushed against the hard surface. You try to fight me off, pushing against my body.



“Stop fighting, I know you’ve wanted this for years,” I growl softly into your ear.



Despite the sternness in my voice, the warm breath against your skin sends an electric charge down your spine. I kiss and lick up and down your neck. A moan sounds from inside you.



“You like that, don’t you?”



“Mmhmm…”



I nibble softly on your neck, and on your ear. I grab both of your wrists above your head with one hand, and run the other hand up and down your side and upper leg before finally arriving on your ass cheek. I knead and caress your ass, feeling you push against my hand. I slide my hand between us, undo your skirt, and tug on it until it slides down your legs. I move my hand back to your body, feeling your silky panties and the soft firmness of your gorgeous ass. You feel the sensation of hardness as the bulge of my cock presses between your cheeks. I slide both hands up your sides, slipping them under your blouse, and pulling it over your head and up your arms, before throwing it across the room. I move one hand back to your ass, and the other to your ample breast. I fondle your breast and ass, eliciting a sigh of pleasure.



You turn your head towards me, your lips welcoming my mouth as I attack them. Our tongues find each other, intertwined, willing us to come closer still. I break away from you for a moment, and whisper into your ear, “You want this, don’t you?”



“Yessss…pleeease.”



“Tell me what you want.”



“I want you inside me. Take me. Fill me.”



I attack your mouth again, with an animalistic fervor. You moan softly, it resonating in our mouths. I slide my hand off your breast and the soft fabric of your bra cup, and force it under the bra, taking your breast in my hand. Your skin is smooth and soft, your nipple against my palm hard enough to cut glass. I squeeze your wonderful breast, bringing forth a small sigh with each movement. I reach behind, and unclasp your bra, releasing your amazing breasts. I pull your bra up and over your head, and drop it to the floor. I seize one your wonderful tits in each hand. I run my hands over your stiff dark chocolate nipples, rubbing them between my fingers and gently pinching them. I trace circles around your areolas before clutching your breasts in my hands.



After giving your chest some well deserved attention, I slide my hands down your sides, my finger tips slipping inside your silk panties. I grab the smooth, flimsy material and slide them off your ass, and down your legs. I hold you close as you step out of your skirt and panties. They end up as a heap upon the floor. One hand finds its way to your curvaceous ass, as the other slides around in front, caressing your stomach. I rub circles on your skin, agonizingly slowly gliding lower and lower. Your desire grows as I approach your forbidden fruit.



I sweep my hand across your hot pussy, evoking a deep passionate moan. I massage your lower lips, as you gyrate to my every touch. I run a finger between your lips from bottom to top, giving you an almost electric shock as it lands on your clit. My finger circles this sensitive bead, before attacking it, rubbing it hard and fast. A gasp escapes your lips, and turns into a steady stream of moans. I move my other hand to your breast, attacking your nipple and clit simultaneously. Your whole body pushes against me, writhing in pleasure. You feel the heat rising as I assault your sensitive parts, bringing you ever closer to the point of no return. I feel your body lock as an orgasm explodes from deep within you, unleashing a loud scream of pleasure.



“OOOOOOOOOOOOHH YEEEESSSSSSSS!”



As your senses return, you softly whisper, “Thank you.” I respond with a low chuckle, “Oh baby, we’re just getting started!”



You quickly turn around to face me, a devious look in your eyes. You plaster your lips against mine and throw your arms around my neck. Our kiss expresses the passion and need we both have at that moment. My hands move to your ass, pulling you hard against me. You feel my stiff cock press against your body, triggering a sense of wanton desire. Your hands slip between us, unbuttoning my shirt and quickly sliding down to my pants. You fumble with the belt, button, and zipper, wanting to reach the prize that awaits you inside. You tear my pants down and pull my shirt off, before grabbing my cock, feeling its hardness through the fabric of my boxers.



You drop to your knees and quickly pull the last bit of my clothing off, releasing my cock. You give a short gasp of surprise as it springs forth to greet you. You look up at me, and huskily whisper,”It looks like you are happy to see me!”



You grasp my cock in both hands, feeling its hardness in your soft hands. You begin to slowly pump your hands up and down my length. I close my eyes and enjoy the feeling as you gradually increase the tempo of your assault. Suddenly, I feel a warm, intense sensation, causing me to groan loudly. I look down at you, to see the amazing sight of my cock buried in your mouth. You look up at me, your eyes sparkling with lust. You trace your tongue around the head, exploring every part, before you begin to suck on it. As I let loose another load groan, I feel you moan, the vibrations a new and pleasurable stimuli against my manhood.



Your head bobs up and down, your lips enveloping my cock. You grab my ass with one hand, while the other gently massages my heavy balls. Your saliva coats my member as you try to capture its length in your mouth with every stroke. You pull your mouth off and lick down the underside of my cock. You lick and suck on my balls while jacking me off. You kiss my head and suck on it before taking me back into your mouth. Overcome by the sensation, I thrust my hips forcing my cock deeper than you expect. You briefly gag before growing more accustom to the pressure at the back of your mouth. I run my fingers through your raven colored hair. I grab your hair and pull you deeper, fucking your mouth harder and harder with each stroke. You try to fight against my thrusts, but soon give in, swallowing my cock. The large purple head slides into your throat, my balls resting on your chin.



I let go of your head, and you pull away coughing. You look up and give me a wink before taking me back into your mouth. You lick and suck my cock while jacking my length with both hands. You work your mouth and hands faster and faster, willing me to cum. I feel the pressure growing in my balls. I look into your eyes, “I’m getting close…do you want me to cum in your mouth?”



“Mmmhmm!”



I unleash a stream of groans as I get closer and closer. As I climax, I yell out, “FUUUCK YESSSSSS! OH MY GOOOOOD!” My hot cum shoots onto your waiting tongue. Stream after stream fills your mouth. You try to hold it all in, but a few drops slip past on your lips landing on your breasts. You rub the sticky wetness into your skin, and rub your nipples. You let my cock go with a pop. You smile at me and part your lips to show me your mouth full of my cum. You stick out your cum-slathered tongue before closing your mouth and swallowing everything. You lean forward and take my cock back in your mouth, cleaning every drop off of its length. I smile down at you.



“That was amazing! Thank you.”



“You’re welcome. But I think my pussy is dying for some attention,” you whisper back.



“Hmmm…I think we can do something about that.”



I take your hands and help you to your feet. I grab you in my arms, and kiss you deeply, tasting the saltiness of my cum in your mouth. I pick you up and carry you to the bed and lay you down on the cool sheets.



I kiss your soft lips, and then your cheek, and down your neck. I trace my tongue across your neck and down your chest, burying my face in your cleavage. I kiss from your cleavage up onto one of your breasts. I circle your breasts with my tongue, I trace around your areola, tantalizing close to your hard nipple. As I teasingly pull away from your breast, you sigh disappointedly. I wink at you and then attack your breasts, sucking on one erect nipple, and fondling your other breast with my hand. I nibble softly on one nipple, while pinching and rubbing the other between my fingers. I trade sides, so that both breasts feel equally loved.



I continue to journey further south, kissing down your stomach, circling your belly button, and heading towards your waiting pussy. Just as I am about to reach your happy place, I detour down one of your legs, receiving a groan of disappointment. I then kiss, lick, and nibble my way up your inner thigh. I get close to the goal, before teasingly skipping over to your other leg, giving it the same treatment. I finally return to your pussy, licking up and down your outer lips. I blow cool air over your wetness, sending a shiver down your spine. I trace my tongue up your slit, and flick it across your clit. I clamp my mouth down on your sensitive spot and suck hart on it. You gasp for air, the sensations becoming so intense. I slip a finger into your pussy, feeling how wet you are. You pussy clamps down as I trace the contours of your canal. Then I slide another finger inside you…and then a third. I slowly build a rhythm, finger-fucking you.



I quickly trade, diving my face into your wetness, while rubbing your clit with my fingers. You are lost in pleasure, a constant stream of moans escaping your lips. I trade back and forth a few more times, before burying my tongue into your waiting pussy. I lick every inch of your pussy, tasting your sweet flavor. As I plant my lips on your clit again, and slide all four fingers into you, a strong orgasm hits you.



“YES! YES! DON’T STOP!!!” you scream out.



Your back arches, pushing your body against my mouth. I pull my fingers out of you and grab your ass with both hands forcing your pussy even tighter against my lips. You put your legs over my shoulders, clamping onto my head with your thighs, while I lick your pussy, sucking up all your juices.



You eventually let go of the death grip on my head. You look down at me, and whisper, “Come here.”



I move up to meet you, your lips awaiting mine. I kiss you deeply, letting you taste your juices on my lips. We embrace each other, our arms, legs, and tongues intertwined.



- – - – - – - – - -



BACKSTORY…



Amy Johnson. I knew she was the best kind of trouble from the first time I met her. Despite her plain name, she got her gorgeous looks from her mother, an immigrant from India. She was petite with beautiful dark skin, jet black hair, and deep brown eyes that I always got lost in. Her thin 5’4″ body was a perfect match for her perky 30D breasts.



As for me, my name is Sam Williams. Although I don’t have the athletic build that I used to pride myself on, I’m still a fairly taut 6’2″ with blue-grey eyes and light brown hair.



Amy and I went to school together at a small college in the Midwest. We were study partners, thick as thieves, and unrequited lovers. Despite a whole lot of sexual tension, we never ended up together. Whenever one of us was single, the other was dating someone else. We traded back and forth like that until our last year of school, when she got engaged to a fellow classmate…a douchebag named Mike.



After college we drifted apart. I ended up taking a job in the Houston area. Amy and Mike got married, and moved out to the West Coast. Mike became increasingly jealous and controlling, and I was forced to stop talking to her. I moved on…with the memories of what could have been.



- – - – - – - – - -



YEARS LATER…



I was newly single. I had been dating Melissa, a voluptuous spitfire of a woman who I thought was the love of my life. She and I both worked for the same company. She was a hot shot art director for the advertising department, and I was the manager of the sales department. Everything seemed to be perfect. That particular night, I arrived at her condo, ready for the moment of truth. I had roses in my hand, reservations to one of the best restaurants in town, and a diamond engagement ring in my jacket pocket.



I quietly slipped through the front door, intending to surprise her. However, I was the one who would be surprised. I heard soft moans coming from her bedroom. I smiled and thought to myself, “Hmmm, she must be enjoying herself.” My smile quickly disappeared when I heard a man’s voice. My head jerked in the direction of the sound…what is going on back there? I crept down the hall and peaked around the corner. What I saw changed everything. There on the bed that we had made love on just this morning was Melissa. Naked. On all fours. Her fiery red hair and large tits bouncing around. Getting railed from behind by Brian, her boss and the manger of the advertising department.



I was at total loss. What should I do? Before I could make up my mind, the issue was decided for me.



“Could you imagine how pissed off Sam would be if he found out about us,” Brian asked.



“I bet he would be furious. But I don’t care. If he couldn’t figure out that we’ve been doing this for months, it’s his own fault,” Melissa responded in between moans.



Feeling my blood begin to boil, I weighed my options. I was well within my rights to run in there and put a physical end to this encounter. Instead I decided I wanted to get some payback. I pulled out my cell phone and shot a few pictures and a short video, making sure to get both of their faces clearly in all of it. I then covertly moved back down the hall, grabbed a bag, and packed the few things I didn’t mind leaving at her place.



I silently stepped outside, got in my car, and left this part of my life behind me. I drove around for hours lost in my thoughts. I finally pulled into a deserted parking lot, and got out. I sat on the trunk and dialed my boss, Joel, the company’s president. I explained the situation, and forwarded the video and pictures. He had been my friend for a few years and had hired me when he took over the company. I could tell that he was almost as pissed off as me, foremost that his friend had just had his life torn apart, but also that two of his employees would engage in such underhanded behavior. He promised to deal with Melissa and Brian quite harshly, and said that he would fully support any decisions I made in regard to staying with the company. I told him that I would take some time off and think things over.



- – - – - – - – - -



A FEW WEEKS LATER…



I was lying on my couch, still feeling sorry for myself. I had barely done anything but sleep and be depressed for a few weeks. Just the day before, I had talked to Joel and told him that I would not be staying with the company…there were just too many painful memories, even after he had summarily fired both Melissa and Brian. Fortunately, he had put together a very generous severance package for me. Additionally, he had arranged to have all of my personal items cleared out of my office and shipped to my house. And if that wasn’t enough, he had talked to a colleague of his and set up a similar position for me with that company whenever I wanted it. I was blown away by his generosity.



I raised my head as I heard the ‘new mail’ chime come from my laptop. “What now,” I thought. I opened up the screen and checked the inbox. I read the subject of the first email –”Hey Stranger!” The sender was…Amy! My old friend. Just the type of person I needed to talk to right then.



I read her email, picturing her beautiful face as I did. She was separated from Mike. He had become increasingly abusive and hostile to her. He had hit her on a few occasions, but always immediately apologized and said that it would never happen again. They had planned on waiting a few years to get their life together established before they had children. Recently, she had asked when he wanted to finally start a family, and he said that he no interest in doing so. As if all of that wasn’t enough, she had recently found out that he had been having a series of affairs going to almost the beginning of their marriage. She had moved out about six months ago, and filed for divorce.



She said how much she missed me, and she wished things had worked out differently between us.



“Me too,” I thought to myself.



She also said that she would be in Houston on a business trip in a few weeks, and that we should definitely get together.



I called her, happy to talk to my friend after many years apart.



Over the next few weeks we talked almost daily, for hours on end, reconnecting and making up for all the lost time. We also arranged the details for us to meet up.



- – - – - – - – - -



EARLIER TONIGHT…



You and I sat across the table from each other at one of my favorite places, a hip sushi restaurant in downtown. The dim lights and sensual music set the mood. You were truly a sight to behold. Every time our eyes met, you beamed a smile that made my heart skip a beat. We enjoyed sushi, sake, and catching up with each other.



As we shared some green tea ice cream and a bottle of rice wine, I felt you run your foot up and down my leg.



“So there’s something that I’ve been meaning to tell you.”



“Oh?” I replied.



“Yes. My divorce was finalized last week. Which means…for once, you and I are single at the same time.”



A grin crept onto my face. I take your hands in mine, and asked, “Amy, my dear, would you be my girlfriend?”



“Sam, I would love to. But first, tonight, will you be my lover?”



I caught the attention of our waitress and ask for our check.



“Does that answer your question?”



We walked back to my car, our arms wrapped around each other. I opened your door and pulled you close; kissing the lips I had longed to kiss for so many years. I helped you into the car and quickly got in as well.



“Drive, my lover”, you beamed at me.



I floored it, and we arrived at your hotel a few minutes later. We had our hands all over each other as we made our way through the lobby, into the elevator, and up to your floor. As you unlocked the door to your room, I grabbed your hand and forced you inside…



- – - – - – - – - -



BACK TO THE PRESENT…



Your soft hand slides down my back and in between our hot bodies. You take hold of my quickly hardening cock.



“I’ve waited years to feel this monster inside me. Don’t make me wait any longer.”



“Yes, ma’am”, I respond, earning myself a playful swat.



You roll onto your back and spread your legs, welcoming me into your promised land. I kneel between your legs and rub my cock up and down the lips of your pussy and across your clit.



“You tease!” you cry out.



“Yes I am…and you like it!”



I get down on my hands and knees and push my engorged head into your pussy, eliciting a soft moan. Slowly I slide my cock in a little at a time, until you take all eight inches deep inside.



“Oh my god, baby, it’s so big!”



“And you are so tight and wet!”



You wrap your legs and arms around me, holding me tight. I pull out until just the tip is inside, and then slam back into you, making you cry out in both pleasure and pain. Slowly I build up a rhythm until we are fucking like rabbits. Moans and the sound of my balls slapping your ass filled the air.



“Harder! Harder!” you scream out.



I thrust my cock into you harder and harder as you slam your hips against me. I feel your hot juices dripping out of your pussy and down my balls. Suddenly you stiffen and cry out as you are hit by another orgasm. Your eyes rolled back in your head and you scream out my name, as you drag your fingernails across my back. I can feel the muscles of your pussy flutter and contract on my rod. God, I’ve never felt anyone as tight as you. That sniveling asshole Mike must have had a tiny penis not to have stretched you out. I stop my assault on your slit, and let us both catch our breath.

“Yes, two dozen roses. No, I don’t need em delivered: I’ll pick em up. OK. Bye.”



Brad ended the call and slipped his cell back into its holder. The lanky blonde stared up at him from where she was sitting on the expensive, Italian leather sofa.



“You’re such the helpless romantic,” she cooed.



“Hopeless: I’m a hopeless romantic, honey,” he corrected.



“You’re hopeless, all right!” she agreed.



Brad looked at his watch. “I gotta go. Have a great day, hun.” He leaned over and gave her a warm peck on the cheek. “I’ll pick those flowers up on the way home from work, and then we have reservations at Sperazza’s for six thirty. Only took me a month of waiting!”



“You’re so good to me,” she burbled. “I don’t deserve it.”



“Sure you do, honey. I love you.”



“You better get outta here, silly, or you’re gonna be late! I’ll see you at six.”



“OK,” he laughed. “Bye hun.”



“Bye.”



Brad turned to go. The woman on the couch watched him like a hawk as he approached the door, opened it, stepped through, and closed it. The second the door slammed shut she bit the corner of her mouth and turned her head, to where a phone sat on a table next to the arm of the sofa. Almost of its own accord a beautiful, perfectly manicured hand floated out toward the phone, grasped it, and pulled it to her. She pressed one button, waited for the connection, then heard a male voice on the other end.



“Hello?”



“Chris? It’s Nell.”



She paused expectantly, savoring the tingling deliciousness of it all. A sly half-grin, composed of equal parts sheer joy and debauched wickedness, slithered slowly across her face.



“Happy Valentine’s Day…”



I



Nell was tall (five feet, ten inches in bare feet), built (well-proportioned and curvy, with outsized breasts and a full, round backside), and pragmatic. Her large eyes were a warm brown: so dark they looked almost black. As one might expect given her physical assets, she had always had plenty of attention from the opposite sex, and usually had no problem getting almost whatever she wanted from men. Take Brad, for example.



Brad was your prototypical “nice guy.” He was sweet, and kind, and everything (one part of) Nell could ever ask for in a companion. Brad had a good job, a nice home, and provided her material needs most adequately. But (another part of) Nell thought Brad terribly boring. And terrible in the sack. It was never clear to her if she had a sexual contempt of nice guys and a consequent lack of respect for men like Brad who were slavishly devoted to her, or she was just deeply attracted to “bad boys” on a sexual level. Perhaps it was a bit of both.



Regardless, Nell couldn’t be bothered to figure it out. All she knew was how she felt, and acted upon it; that was the way she had always done things, and it had served her well over the course of her life. She was, as stated, a stark pragmatist, and very aware that she was in a position where she could have her cake and eat it too, the proverbial best of both worlds: one man to take care of her material needs, and another man to take care of her carnal needs. Did he ever…



Sexually, Chris was everything that Brad was not. Brad was half an inch shorter than her five ten; Chris stood six feet, four inches tall. Brad had a plain face and ordinary body; Chris’ chiseled face was handsome, his body toned, well-cut, and athletic. In terms of disposition, Brad was retiring, sweet-natured to a fault, and never took the reins; Chris had an assertive, dominant personality in the bedroom, and treated Nell like the whore that she was (exactly the way she so desperately needed to feel).



Nell wasn’t a size queen; nevertheless, she couldn’t help but notice that Chris’ manhood was bigger than Brad’s, and worked better. Chris got it up quickly and stayed hard until she was totally spent; Brad got hard, eventually, but it wasn’t as hard as Chris and his stamina left much to be desired as far as Nell was concerned. Brad had difficulty bringing Nell to climax; she could count the number of times he succeeded on three fingers. With Chris, by contrast, she had never failed to scale the heights: always spectacularly, and usually more than once. There were even times when she found his vigorous affections so stimulating that he triggered one orgasm right after another, for minutes at a clip, leaving her blissfully dazed and exhausted.



Whether this was a result of her deep sexual attraction to Chris, his greater size and stamina, his more skillful technique, his sexually dominant nature, or some combination thereof, again, Nell didn’t know and couldn’t care less. All she knew was what she felt, in the deep places, down between her long legs, and those feelings were unequivocally, hands down in favor of Chris when it came time to get off.



And to Nell, St. Valentine’s Day was prime time for getting off.



II



Chris, naked, was splayed out on his back on the sofa. Nell, equally naked, straddled him with one leg folded on the inside of the couch while the other hung over the side with her foot on the floor. She bent over his face, cradling his cheeks in her hands, and was furiously working on his mouth with her hot, darting tongue. Just beyond his head, on the table next to the arm of the sofa, sat her phone (which she had turned off: she didn’t want any disturbances to mar her special Day), a carton of Marlboro Reds and a fifth of Wild Turkey 101 Proof Bourbon, along with an ashtray and two cut-crystal Old Fashioned glasses. Chris’ thoughtful Valentine’s Day gifts were much better and more meaningful to her than useless shit like Brad’s flowers and romantic dinner.



Nell sincerely wanted to try to quit smoking, but Brad’s constant needling and badgering her to do so didn’t help. In fact, she found his bitching downright irritating. She also liked to take a drink now and again, something else Brad didn’t do and, just like with her smoking, he found reason to chide her about when she did. She wasn’t an alcoholic; in fact, she almost never got drunk, save perhaps at a celebration like a wedding. She simply found booze pleasurable, and she refused to apologize for that. And on this Day, which she had dedicated solely to her pleasure, she’d be damned if she wasn’t going to indulge herself and feed her vices to her heart’s content.



Chris, for his part, didn’t care one whit about Nell’s habits in this regard. The way he saw it, she was a grown woman and could make up her own damn mind about such things. Besides, he enjoyed liquor himself and, though not a habitual smoker, did sometimes share one with Nell during their trysts, and certainly would today. It was a special occasion, after all.



Nell was making soft, high-pitched mewling noises as she kissed him; he was a fabulous kisser. He really primed her pump with his mouth, and was doing so now. She was also making popping and smacking noises as she pulled her eager mouth away from his briefly, then dove for his tonsils once more. She was thoroughly exploring every inch of the inside of his face, pressing his cheeks against her palms and fingers.



Nell was simultaneously slipping her vaginal lips and stiff, tingling clitoris up and down Chris’ shaft, which was already hard and being pinned against his belly by her weight. The tingling had started a while ago; the second she heard his voice this morning, in fact. Having had this Day mapped out for over a month now, when she hung up she removed every article of clothing she had on and simply waited. Once Chris arrived bearing his priceless gifts of booze, smokes, and himself, she stopped him at the door with her command: “Take it off. All of it.” He rapidly stripped right in the foyer and walked the gifts over to her.



That was then; this is now and now…now that wild tingling was rapidly building in intensity. Her pelvis began quickening the pace and then after a few moments more she started half-talking, half-moaning into Chris’ open mouth, informing him that she was about to cum. She slid her head to the side of his as her orgasm began, her wide hips still pumping; Chris could feel her hot breath beating on his ear and her aching grunts as she pressed her clit very hard into his flesh-encased steel and released herself all over the bottom of his hard cock, sliding up and down and greasing his manhood to such an extent that it was literally shining with her essence by the time her climax subsided. He could feel her trembling so he simply placed his hands on her back and held her close while she let it all out. Finally, when she had her breath back, she informed him of her delight: “God damn that was good. Thank you, baby: you busted my nut again; I fuckin love it. Your turn.”



And with that, she slid down between his legs, his dick springing up. Without ceremony, she took him deep into her hot, wet mouth and began sucking on him. Her hands found their way up to his nipples to trace gentle circles around them and then slid back down his body to grip his shaft. Her head was smoothly sliding up and down, taking him deep at first, and then working deeper as she found the rhythm. “Your cock tastes so good,” she cooed. “And your balls.” She went further down and licked his sack: first down the middle, then each sphere. After this, she took each one into her mouth and slowly, softly sucked on them to the delight of Chris, who let out grunting groans to express his feelings at being under her tender mouth and hot, wet tongue as she thoroughly worked his jewels, in union with all the pampering she was giving his hard cock.



Her mouth was exquisite and she did so many things with her tongue that Chris sometimes thought she had two in her mouth and her was head hammering away so smoothly and she was jacking his dick with her hands and Nell began to pick up the pace as he got close and then it happened and he was suddenly firing hot jets of his cream into her mouth and she eagerly lapped up every bit and swallowed and smiled and thanked him again for agreeing to see her on such a special occasion and for doing such a great job and now she was going to smoke and have a drink so he could reload.



“And when I’m finished…we’re goin again.”



III



Nell was a woman of her word: they were now, in fact, going again. This time Chris was dutifully on his belly between Nell’s spread legs so he could lick her pussy. Nell loved the way he licked pussy; so many men…so many, she knew…had no idea what to do with a cunt when it was near their mouth. Chris did. Very much so. He slid his arms under her legs and wrapped his hands over top of her pelvis, so that his fingers fell across the top of her lips, right near the clit. He would usually place the tip of his middle finger on that clit and begin stroking, softly at first, then a little harder. He also varied the stroke, beginning with a straight pulling and pushing motion and then, once she began to get good and warm, rotated her clit pinned under his finger, whirling it around with a circular motion.



It was all Nell could do to keep from screaming, biting down on her mouth and stifling her cries, when she remembered that Brad was not home and wouldn’t be for quite some time, and that it was perfectly OK to let it out. This she began to do, most vociferously. After Chris elicited another orgasm from her, he quietly and repeatedly kissed her pussy, clean shaven and fresh and oh-so-sweet, telling her how wonderful it was and waited for her quivering to subside a little. Then he placed his fingertips right next to her clit, pressed down, and gently pulled up the flaps at the top, unhooding her Button, exposing it. He shifted his face to one side of her slit, and licked straight up her inner thigh to the top. Then he repeated the gesture on the other side, increasing her anticipation.



Finally, just before she begged him to stop teasing her, he shoved his tongue tip right against the bottom of her slick, leaking labia and dragged his tongue forcibly straight up the groove, collecting a little tiny wave of her juice as he went, and slapped it over her exploding clitoris as the very tip of his hot, wet tongue whispered by the Knot. Nell’s upper body shot off the sofa like she got hit with an electric cattle prod. “FUCK!” was her sincere response. Then she settled back on her elbows, propping herself up. “I love to watch you eat my pussy, baby. You’re so fucking good…” she moaned, unable to finish her sentence because her eyes rolled back in her head when Chris began working that clit with his tongue. “You’re the only man who knows what to do to me; you know that, don’t you?”



Chris was flattered by her admission, but he could not answer presently as his mouth was stuffed full of her slick, hot, tingling meat. Now he was alternately whispering his tongue on that clit, then pounding it hard with broad, lashing strokes. He pulled his face back and began flicking his tongue tip like a snake’s over her Button, carefully holding her lips wide open and keeping that clit exposed, tingling, and mercilessly tongue-serviced. Nell let him know in no uncertain terms that she loved every bit of it. That was when he shifted gears and began taking her Knot very, very gently into his lips, kissing it, then sucking her into his mouth, just letting it graze his teeth as he released her. Then he repeated the procedure.



As she began to get close (Chris knew when this was happening because she said, point-blank: “Oh shit, you’re gonna make me cum like that!”), he formed the middle finger and forefinger of one of his hands into a stabbing weapon like a knife and slid both fingers into her sopping slit as he lapped her clit, keeping it exposed with his other hand. He cocked his wrist over so that the fingers were pointing at about the 11 o’clock position, and began scraping his fingertips up against her anterior wall, seeking her Spot. He shortly found it, he knew, because her formerly comprehensible words became a jumbled inarticulate mess as he fingered her and licked her clit, alternating flicking and sucking until she exploded again, all over his hand and tongue.



When she finally collected herself, caught her breath, and could form a coherent thought, she said, “Holy shit you really know howta lick a cunt! I love you, baby.” That was when she planted a hot, sloppy kiss on his mouth, which was still smeared with her sticky wetness. “Get on your back: I’m gonna fuck you now.”



IV



He was barely flipped over and settled when he felt his dick in her mouth once again and rapidly stiffening. It didn’t take long because Nell gave great head and she was obviously very excited and pleased, which excited him. Once he was fully inflated and hard as concrete Nell jab-stepped over his hips, placing one leg folded alongside and one foot on the floor for leverage as before, then she reached back, grabbed his dick, and carefully inserted it into her steaming wet hole, which was still tingling to beat the band thanks to her incredible orgasms.



She slid down carefully, eating up half his length on the first few strokes. As he gently opened her up, she began to give more and more of herself to him on every trip down. Before very long she was able to plunge her tunnel fully onto his sword. This she began to do as her hands planted themselves firmly on his hard chest, balancing herself and giving her the leverage to really use her leg to drive her pelvis up and down on his manhood. Her clit happened to slide against his shaft on one of her upstrokes; seeking more of this delightful treatment, she shifted her pelvic angle slightly backward. “There you go,” she said. “There you go! That’s the spot! Right there!” she growled. “Right there!” His hard cock was jabbing at her Spot while her clit was sawing up and down his shaft. She could feel it already: this one was going to be monumental.



Her hips tirelessly motored up and down his pole: a well-oiled piston. Nell carefully kept her clit pressed up against Chris’ immense hardness and before half a dozen ups and downs were completed she felt the tingling coming on like a deadly wave that she knew was going to consume her. And it did. Chris reached up and grabbed her heaving breasts and held on for the ride of his life as Nell bucked and pounded and screamed and felt the throbbing fire in her loins grow and impossibly increase still further. Her face reddened as “FUCK!” exploded from her mouth several times. “Oh God baby, I’m cumming so fucking hard, FUCK!”



She stabbed herself right on his cock and held herself there quivering, moaning. That was when Chris slid his hands, palms up, straight down the backs of her thighs, planted them on her thick ass, then began pushing her up his pole and letting her back down. Nell began rubbing her clit as Chris fucked her some more, slamming his dagger home again and again, seeking her sweet Spot, then finding it, about the time Nell’s madly dashing finger brought her clit to the exact right place and time and the explosions, which never stopped, redoubled in intensity and then he began banging his hips up into her, hard, again and again; it felt like he was trying to destroy her Spot with his dick.



Poor Nell at this point, if she could have thought anything at all, would not have traded the sensations for all the money in the world. This was bliss, such as she had never known. Endless. In her next intelligible moment she recognized Chris’ voice growling in her ear. Her pussy was throbbing so hard it threatened to detach itself from her pelvis of its own accord. Now his big, strong hands were all over her ass and had her pinned on his dick.



“Uh uh; you ain’t gettin off that easy, baby,” he whispered into her ear. “I’m gonna make you cum again. Let’s go. I want it. I want another one. I want it all. It belongs to me. YOUR FILTHY FUCKIN WHORE CUM BELONGS TO ME. Give it to me. GIVE IT TO ME, YOU FUCKIN WHORE! GIMME THAT FUCKIN WHORE CUM, NOW!”



Nell, who always wanted to be a good whore, did as commanded. Chris was pulling her hips up by her ass then slamming her hard onto his pole in time with his upstrokes. Nell’s dam busted and spilled and busted and spilled and she could hardly tell where one ended and the other began and it didn’t matter because she was cumming, coming apart at the seams and dissolving in fire and she thought she might be screaming but the tingling was so intense and so all over her being that she couldn’t hear it and it went on and on and on and on and on and on and …



V



They were just getting started. It went on like that, all morning. Then all afternoon. As often as her sore pussy could stand it. Sore she was; but she was loath to stop. Not only was it the best sex she’d ever had, but at some point Brad would come home and that meant her time with Chris would be at an end. So she was determined to make the very most of it. And she was.



Though they did the grand tour of various positions, the pattern was always the same: fuck, cum, smoke, drink; fuck, cum, smoke, drink; fuck, cum, smoke, drink, etc. Most of her orgasms had been of the multiple variety, a probable combination of the planning of her special Day and Chris exceeding even her wildest expectations (which were already pretty wild to begin with), plus the sheer erotic naughtiness of secretly getting over on Brad behind his back (and God damn well, too), the extended time in the sack, the loosening effects of the liquor, and the effects of each prior climax helping to set up and spur along the next one. And the next one.



Whatever it was exactly, again, it didn’t matter to Nell: it had been fucking fantastic, literally. That she knew, could absolutely feel: her pussy practically never stopped throbbing and tingling and leaking all over the damn place. Even during the light meal she made for lunch. “Gotta keep your strength up,” she said to Chris when she left him to go prepare it. They remained unclothed while they ate, and gave each other forkfuls, and kissed and fondled and ate slowly because they wanted to anticipate the feeling so that, when they finally got back to it, they could make it the best one yet. Which, given what had gone on before was going to be quite a stretch, but they were both damn sure going to give it a good try.

My fiancé Ben is taking a nap with Luna sleeping on his chest after spending most of today on an extension-ladder painting the intricate gingerbread work on the second story of our house. Luna is our four month old female beagle puppy; we bought her to celebrate our engagement.



Goodness, our little dog follows Ben everywhere. Luna would have climbed up the ladder to be with him if she could; they look so precious sleeping like this.



I need to wake Ben soon; we plan to shower together before having an early dinner. All these intimate little things like showering together are so new to me; not to mention the endless hugs and simple touches from an affectionate man who basically is so delightfully kind and gentle.



It took most of my adult life to find Ben…. for Fate is cruel as well as kind, and Fate brought us together.



Tomorrow I am taking Ben to meet my family for the first time. My parents are looking forward to meeting him; especially my father. They are hosting an ox roast for us in celebration of our engagement and everyone will be there.



I am somewhat apprehensive about my uncle Cain who will be attending. Uncle Cain believes that anyone who does not subscribe to his narrow hard shell Baptist views is going to hell.



Cain is a large and strong, domineering man, and somewhat of a bully. Cain gave up trying to argue religion with Dad. My father discretely knocked him unconscious behind the garage at a Fourth of July Picnic. They both agreed it was an accident and shook hands; we don’t talk about it outside the immediate family.



Other good news; yesterday Ben and I received written confirmation from my attorney that my divorce has been finalized.



My ex-husband, a defrocked Baptist Minister is now hiding somewhere in Mexico after embezzling hundreds of thousands of dollars from our church. Luke burned it down for the insurance money and stole that too.



I am a native Mississippian born and bred and can trace my roots to the founding of the country. I met my husband Luke here at a Born Again Christian Revival meeting on the county fairgrounds.



I was seventeen years old and a virgin. I was saving myself for marriage. Luke was twenty-three with a worldly air about him and a bright future ahead of him.



Luke looked incredibly handsome with his longish and thick wavy black hair…his baby blue eyes. He has such wonderful long eyelashes and a dimple in his chin. Even then Luke was a well known charismatic speaker. He had his audience eating out of his hands.



They were swaying in joyous rapture praising the Lord. Women were fainting and a few men were crying openly being caught up in the moment…..I was in love.



Reverend Scott introduced me to Luke later that day at our evening church social. Luke was wearing his trademark white linen suit. I had butterflies in my stomach when I shook his hand. Luke’s hand was cool and smooth. I noticed that his nails were freshly manicured and thought this so sophisticated.



Luke was being groomed to take over when Reverend Scott retired in the spring.



When we walked over to the refreshment table for punch Luke’s hand lingered on mine. He told me I was a very pretty girl. He complemented me on my dress and this caused me to blush and feel light headed. I was tingling all over and of course more butterflies………….



I awoke to the sight of my miracle, my golden haired angel touching my face with her hand saying softly, “Ben, you said to wake you.”



Mary Beth leaned forward to kiss my lips as Luna stood, stretching and yawning, wagging her little tail for Mary Beth to pet her.



Always a Lady, Mary Beth’s golden blonde hair was put up in a bun that was held in place with two carved hair sticks and nothing else. She was wearing a translucent airy pale green muslin dress and like me will go barefoot every chance she gets.



Women from the city where I grew up and lived most of my life never dressed like this. I love the fact my angel always wears a hat outside to protect her fair, creamy skin from the sun; what good common sense.



And then there is the way Mary Beth talks; I find her soft accent sweet and endearing; the syllables just roll off her tongue to caress my ears.



“That’s my baby,” Mary Beth said picking the puppy up to hug Luna to her bosom, “do you need to go outside to do your business?” Mary Beth put her on the floor and followed Luna to the back door to go outside.



Shortly after, I then joined them outside barefoot; the warm grass felt wonderful underneath my feet. Luna was smelling everything in sight; the innocent joys of a puppy, where every new scent and sound, the slightest movement is an adventure to explore; Luna is a smart little dog and already house broken.



Luna came running to greet me in that clumsy, awkward way many puppies do at this age; it’s a miracle they don’t trip over their little feet.



“Yes, Luna, you’re a good girl,” I praised petting her and then putting my arms around Mary Beth’s waist to hug her and to kiss the back of her neck, “I love you, Mary Beth my golden haired angel.”



“I love you too, Ben,” Mary Beth said squeezing my hands as we watched Luna let out a little yip and spin around to bravely chase a yellow and brown striped tiger swallow-tail butterfly that flew by. Luna stopped once to assure herself we were still in her sight before pursuing her dangerous prey to the edge of the stand of magnolias bordering the east side of the property. “The chicken is marinating in the refrigerator and will be ready for the grill after our shower,” said Mary Beth, turning to put her arms around my neck to kiss my lips with her warm, sweet kisses; heaven on earth kisses, my angel’s kisses.



“Luna,” I called, “come good girl,” I encouraged, also using the hand signal I taught Sophie; “we’re going in the house now.”



Mary Beth was my first time with a woman. My angel says this is what makes me special….can you imagine that; a woman who actually thinks an ugly cuss like me is special.



We have so much to explore and experience together. My thoughts and imagination of what is erotic and intimate are no longer merely words or dreams: Mary Beth is my reality……



Ben closed the wood accordion gate across our open bedroom door so Luna could see us. He told Luna to be a good girl and lay down; amazingly she did. Ben has a way with animals; they instinctually sense his goodness.



Taking the initiative, “Please close your eyes, Mary Beth. I want you to undress me with your imagination and sense of touch.”



Closing my eyes, I reached up and put my hands on Ben’s shoulders leaning forward to kiss his warm lips. Ben is special; incredibly thoughtful….and oh, so very gentle.



I’m so glad Ben is getting over his initial shyness with me. I tingle all over when Ben kisses me and this is not puppy love.



I ran my hands up his neck and touched his face trying to memorize the features of his face with my fingers tips.



I ran my hands over his head, with and against the bristles of his sensibly very short brown hair, thinking, ‘he’s mine and I want him. I wanted Ben from the time I first kissed him, the night of our harvest moon.’



My hands went to the collar of his white shirt where I started unbuttoning at the second button from the top. Next, I unbuckled his thick brown leather belt so I could pull his shirt out of his blue jeans, my hands lingering to stroke and squeeze his hard cock through the material.



I was thinking, ‘He’s mine now and I will brand his cock with my lips and tongue…what wonderfully naughty thoughts. Ben brings out the woman in me to have these thoughts.



My mother would be scandalized that I would even think of having a man’s cock in my mouth….Luke would never let me even touch his manhood. Sex with Luke while it lasted was so banal and predictable….there now Ben’s shirt is off……’



Mary Beth took a step back stumbling and opened her eyes. I caught her, pulling her close to kissing her lips. She returned my kisses. Soon, my golden haired angel’s tongue was caressing my tongue with hers. I can smell her sweet musky woman smell enhanced by her vanilla perfume.



The scent of a woman, my woman shifted my arousal into overdrive. I have lived with years’ of celibacy waiting for the right one, saving myself for my angel when she came for me.



I held myself back knowing Mary Beth is worth the wait……….



I closed my eyes again and ran my hands down Ben’s hard bare chest and felt the hard ropey muscles on his arms and back, taking note of every burn and scar that he bravely earned before we met.



I started kissing him, working my way down his chest and flat stomach caressing him with my hands until I was kneeling at his feet.



I unbuttoned the single embossed copper button of his blue jeans and then unzipped them pulling them down around his ankles for him to step out of which left only his briefs. They were bulging in front where his rock hard cock pressed against them trying to escape.



I squeezed his firm ass through the fabric and then ran my hands down his muscular legs before pulling down his briefs. Ben’s cock is longer and thicker than Luke’s. It was standing at attention for me to lick and to use as I pleased.



My eyes were still closed when I took it gently in my hands measuring the girth and length burning the dimensions of my man’s manhood into my memory while kissing his balls and licking the tip of his cock before standing to face him, smiling……



“It is your turn, lover” Mary Beth said opening her eyes and lifting her arms for me to remove her dress. I did, pulling it over her head and then letting it drop to the floor.



My angel removed the hair sticks from her bun and shook her head so that her long golden blonde hair unfurled down her back almost to her waist. My golden haired angel shook her head again until some of her hair fell forward partially covering her face to play peek-a-boo through it with her blue eyes, eyes to put the most precious and rare blue sapphires to shame.



I closed my eyes and pushed Mary Beth’s hair away from her face before gathering it up into a ponytail, next twisting it up into a loose bun to let it drop down again.



I traced the length of her golden blonde tresses down her back with my fingers, touching the bottom to memorize where it ended on her curvaceous body…..Mary Beth is my earth bound epiphany.



I took my angel’s face in my hands to kiss her lips long and deep. Our tongues entwined and I sighed with contentment before reaching behind to unhook her bra to remove it.



I slowly slid my hands underneath Mary Beth’s hair at the back of her nape letting my finger follow the shape of her head and face while kissing her mouth again sighing with contentment…..



Ben kissed my forehead, my cheeks and ears and neck; behind my ears… everywhere. I was tingling all over thinking about of all that I had missed. Ben was kissing me as if I were the most precious thing in the world.



I love him so much that I stumble for the words, therefore I will use his; Ben is my earthbound epiphany.



Ben worked his way down my neck and shoulders, lingering at the base of my throat, taking in the scent of my perfume I put there for him. I intuitively sensed what he was doing and smiled to myself thinking “Ben notices all the little details.”



Ben has so much self-control, while I was absolutely dripping between my legs; my panties were no longer damp but wet with my sweet juices of arousal.



Ben’s hands and fingers were everywhere touching; probing, lingering on my shoulders, on the small of my back and my ass. Rubbing and teasing; squeezing with his hands through the cotton of my white panties.



Ben’s mouth was kissing me in places that I had never been kissed before. He was paying special attention to my full breasts and engorged nipples, licking and sucking and kissing.



Ben gradually worked his way down until he was on his knees at my feet, kissing and caressing. Once there Ben removed my panties before he stood up to study me with his warm grey eyes, wonderfully expressive eyes, the window to his kind and gentle soul.



I saw nothing but love there; love mixed with passion….our shower would have to wait. Ben’s hard manhood was standing at attention; my willing womanhood, my sweet moist flower was awaiting his hard cock…. our arousal would not be ignored.



Ben smiled and took my wrists kissing them. He then picked me up underneath my knees and cradled me as would a groom carry a new bride over a threshold to put me gently on our poster bed.



“Please lie on your back and close your eyes again my beautiful angel.”



Ben kissed my face and neck, working his way to my sensitive breasts, stroking and sucking and licking; paying particular attention to my engorged nipples. I could hardly contain myself from moaning with pleasure. I wanted to orgasm with his hard cock inside of me.



“You have beautiful breasts Mary Beth. They are full and round with such pink nipples to match your perfect pink aureoles. They are a heavenly contrast to your creamy white skin. They were meant to be licked and touched and so I shall continue my angel.”



Ben lay down beside me and continued licking and sucking on my breasts with his warm wet tongue; all those years; I never imagined it could be like this. I caressed his head and face with my hands while moaning and gasping with pleasure.



I pushed my pussy into his hand as he was stroking me. Ben parted my pussy lips to get at my sweet, swollen clitoris making me gasp and pant and moan all louder. I was so unladylike, taking naughty pleasure in expressing my sexuality.



I didn’t care because my moaning and squirming and dirty talk aroused Ben all the more; aroused me all the more…I can tell by Ben’s passionate kisses.



“Please Ben, I want to come. I want you to kiss me…oh god this feels so good! I want to lick and suck on your big cock.



‘I can’t believe I said that!’ I thought, ‘what a wonderfully naughty thing to say; what a glorious naughty thing to think; fuck me, fuck me, fuck me and fuck me hard, Ben; how’s that for naughty and dirty!’



“All in good time; keep your eyes closed my love……”



I brought Mary Beth to the peak of orgasm and stopped. My golden haired angel is such a hot, passionate and sexy woman in the sack; it makes my head spin.



I never dreamed that Mary Beth would talk like this in the throes of passion, or that I would be aroused by it…wow. I’m quite shy around women, although I maintain a professional neutral demeanor at work, however, not with her, not with my angel.



I was betting myself that her ex-husband the defrocked and disgraced minister never went down on Mary Beth; the fool that he is.



This is what lovers do. Oral sex is so pleasurable….the tastes, the smells… the sensual touch…the sounds all blended together with love; the key element of true passion; giving to one another freely and naturally to be as second nature as breathing.



Inspired by my golden haired angel, I went down on her licking and sucking and teasing while Mary Beth lay there thrusting her dripping wet, sweet and delicious pussy in my face for me to lick harder.



Mary Beth’s hands were above her head in her hair. My angel was rolling her head to from side to side as the first orgasm washed over her and yet I was still not finished with her.



Mary Beth rolled over onto her stomach and she got on her hands and knees, anticipating what I wanted, telling me silently what she wanted.



My dam was about to burst and now that Mary Beth was satisfied I rammed my cock into her still dripping pussy while holding onto her hips and pounding her relentlessly…..



I had never done anything like this before; as a matter of fact all that I experienced was the momentary missionary with the ex and nothing else.



This delight along with oral was all new to me. What added to the delight was we were both as naive. I was getting aroused a second time, another orgasm was starting to build inside of me and I was thinking naughtily, ‘I can feel his balls slapping against pussy. My kind and gentle shy man has a wild side.’



Ben’s lustful thrusts increased in speed and in power as he reached forward to grab my long hair. He twisted it into a ponytail and pulled my head back as he continued pounding me.



I was bucking and panting and moaning as my second orgasm burned through me, burning away all my pent up inhibitions, “Fuck me harder, Ben! Fuck me harder!”



I could feel Ben’s hot, thick and rich seed being pumped into my dripping and swollen ravaged cunt as he came. Ben was breathing in and out deeply while softly moaning; and to think how close Ben came to taking a vow of celibacy. Praise god that he didn’t.



“I’m sorry, Mary Beth,” Ben said blushing, “I didn’t mean to be so rough with you; it’s just, I mean….”



“I loved every minute, every millisecond. It’s who you are, Ben; It’s who we are together; why hold back, you didn’t hurt me. I loved it and I love you.



Life is short Ben; let’s honestly experience this facet of our love as it comes to us naturally without reservations. I love a man who takes charge and who better than you; the brave man who rescued me.”



“Yes ma’am,” he said smiling, “I can live with my angel being a hot and sexy number when we are alone….Mary Beth.”



“Yes, Ben.”



“You’ll always be a fine Southern Lady in my eyes.”



“That’s so sweet, Ben, and this Southern Lady is going to suck on your cock before bedtime.”



“Yes, Ma’am…..”



Luke and I courted for two years and during that time we were never alone together. We were always chaperoned or with other couples, members of our little church.



My mother is an elder in our church. Mom was convinced that Luke and I were the anointed couple. Mom was convinced we were perfect for each other…. or so it seemed at first. Dad on the other hand was not so sure.



My Dad is a sometimes Baptist and was a lackadaisical Lutheran before he married; Mom’s words not mine. Dad attended church with us every other Sunday out of love and respect for Mom.



Dad’s philosophy of the situation; “The Lord can have me every other Sunday. He may have me for all eternity if he so has a mind. Short of that, the catfish and Zeke and I have a long standing appointment.”



Dad went fishing on those as he called them “I’m-playing- hooky-from-church- Sundays” with Ezekiel (Zeke) Hawthorne a bona fide bachelor who pretty much was of the same mind. Mom let him because if she didn’t Dad wouldn’t attend Church at all preferring to fish every Sunday; we prayed extra hard for their souls.



On our wedding night I went into the bathroom as all new brides do to make myself beautiful for my sexy husband.



I took my long light blond hair down and brushed it until it shone like burnished gold, thick and soft falling to the middle of my back.



I was growing it waist length for Luke. My mother’s light blonde hair is waist length. I was taught a woman’s hair is her crowning glory and life was glorious on that special day.



Since the revival meeting, I imagined how our lovemaking would be on our wedding night. Luke would take me gently into his arms and kiss me. He would tell me how beautiful I was and how much he loved me.



Luke would slowly undress me and I would undress him. I would feel his hands gently caress my breasts. I would taste his lips for the first time. He would kiss and touch me in places I never imagined could be touched or kissed.



When the sweet juices of my womanhood flowed freely and I was ripe and ready, Luke would gently break my hymen with his manhood while kissing me.



We would make slow and gentle love, our souls entwined and my husband would slowly bring me to orgasm spilling his seed into my fertile body making me a soon to be mother.



Afterward we would lie there in each other’s arms talking about our future and choose the names for our many children. Then finally, Luke would hold me gently, stroking my hair; we would fall asleep in each other’s arms, the good Lord watching over us….or so I imagined.

When I came out of the bathroom on the beautiful star lit night the curtains were drawn tight against the double glass door leading out to a small balcony. Luke was waiting for me writing notes for an upcoming sermon.



I got into bed next to my sexy husband and Luke reached over to turn off the table lamp throwing the room into almost complete darkness. How I wished we could make love in view of the stars.



I rolled on my side to face him, awaiting a kiss on my lips.



Luke roughly… perhaps roughly is not the right word. Mechanically would be better. It was all the tenderness of a handsome wind up automaton man going through the motions.



Luke pushed me onto my back and then inserted his spit covered fingers into my womanhood forcefully tearing my hymen and causing me to cry out in pain.



We had intercourse in the missionary position that lasted a good sixty seconds. Luke was lying on top of me with his full weight pushing down almost smothering me.



He was grunting and panting with a terrible grimace on his face as if he was in pain and the tender act of making love disgusted him.



In retrospect the very act of intercourse disgusted Luke; to him sex was necessary for procreation and nothing else.



When he was done, Luke kissed my cheek. He got out of bed and took a shower. When he returned Luke kissed my cheek again as he got into bed and rolled on his side facing away from me. He wished me a good night falling almost immediately asleep.



This was our love making while on our honeymoon; the purpose to make babies and this remained our love making for the next three years.



We were driving home on the last night of our honeymoon getaway such as it was; Luke decided to stop around midnight at a gas station- convenience store to get us a cup of coffee and use the restroom. I was out the ladies room first and sat in the car to wait for him.



While I was waiting, a rust bucket of a pickup pulled into the parking space beside me. A slovenly and disgusting middle aged man with a beer gut dressed in filthy black jeans and an equally filthy black sweat stained Heavy Metal Tee shirt got out with a can of beer in his hand and slammed the door several times to get it to close.



He spat a stream of chewing tobacco juice onto the ground and then stretched, scratching his crotch before drinking the last of his beer, crushing the can in his hand and throwing it on the ground.



He finished stretching by farting and belching while stuffing more chewing tobacco into his mouth. His last charming action was to wipe the dried snot off of his face with the back of his grimy hand and then wiped his hand on his filthy crusty jeans.



I was frightened and disgusted by him. I looked straight ahead, pretending that he wasn’t there. I was praying Luke would return soon so we could leave. As I said, Luke is a big, tall strapping man.



Looking in my direction the filthy cretin pushed his lank thin greasy hair over his pate trying to cover his bald spot.



He smiled at me showing his few remaining tobacco stained yellow-brown rotting teeth. He swaggered over and stuck his head in the driver’s side window while putting his hand on the roof of our station wagon.



“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing he-ah all alone this time ah night?”



I could smell his alcohol laden fetid breath and his reeking unwashed body. The stench of the alcohol was perfume in comparison to the rest of his vile unwashed smells. He made me cringe with disgust and I wanted to retch.



“Do you yah all want some company?”



I was too frightened to answer. I stared straight ahead hoping he would go away. I wanted my husband.



He turned his head and spit a stream of tobacco juice to the ground, smiling and no doubt imagining himself to be suave and charming as he leaned farther in to reach with his arm. This vile wretch of a man smiled broadly displaying his discolored gums, “You sure have pretty hair.”



He stroked my long ponytail with his filthy hand making my skin crawl.



“What do you say about going to the roadhouse for a few beers to get better acquainted, you pretty little thing?”



As he said this I could see Luke coming out of the store carrying two paper cups of coffee.



“What is going on here? Stop bothering my wife!”



The filthy cretin pulled his greasy head out the car window and sized Luke up. He then spit another stream of tobacco juice to the ground.



“Your wife you say preacher boy. I thought she might like to be with a real man for a change. What do you say about letting me borrow her for an hour or so?”



This time he spit on Luke’s pants legs staining the white linen fabric with tobacco juice mixed with sputum, smiling around his few remaining front teeth.



Still hanging on to the coffee cups Luke said. “You had better leave us alone or else.”



“Or else what, you’ll pray for me?” The redneck said sneering as he knocked the coffee cups from Luke’s hands.



“I’ll tell you what,” he took a crumpled dollar bill from his jeans pocket and stuffed it into Luke’s clean white shirt pocket.



“I’ll even pay for it and let you watch while I fuck her; we’ll have us a little orgy, faggot.” Luke just stood there with his head down as if he was praying.



A county sheriff’s car pulled into the parking lot driving slow as if looking for somebody. Seeing it, Luke lifted his head and stood up to his full height of six-four and said confidently.



“If I were not a man of God, I would beat you to an inch of your miserable life. The Lord has answered my prayers by giving me strength to turn the other cheek.”



Luke pushed past him and got into the car.



As we were driving away, Luke turned to me and said, “He should thank the Lord that the law showed up when it did.



My prayers were answered Mary Beth. Otherwise there is no telling of what I would have done to him in my righteous anger.”



Like the blind fool that I was then I wanted to believe Luke. I slid closer to him and put my head on his shoulder. Luke puffed out his chest, sitting up straighter in the seat. He put his arm around me and I was content our prayers were answered; proud that my husband had the courage of his convictions.



After all the Bible says, “But I say unto you, that ye resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also…………”



I was up early the following Sunday to make Luke a breakfast of pork sausage, fried eggs with grits; my famous from scratch buttermilk biscuits with my equally famous sausage gravy.



Luke was looking at me with a thoughtful look on his face as we sat there eating.



“What’s the matter, honey,” I asked, “what are you thinking about?”



“We need to do something about your hair, Mary Beth”



I had fixed my hair in a pretty bun as my mother’s suggested as is befitting a minister’s wife.



“You don’t like my hair? What is wrong with it, honey, I put it up for you?”



“Nothing is wrong with your hair Mary Beth, however you are a married woman now as well as a Minister’s wife.



It should be shorter and more conservative. Perhaps we should tone down your blond hair to a nice respectable brown.



You need something that is easier to care for on our busy schedule especially when our babies arrive.



Do you remember how that sinner was tempted in the parking lot touching your hair like he did?



I know it was not your fault but only God knows what would have happened if I didn’t show up when I did.



You are a pretty woman and pretty women turn men’s heads by their appearance alone tempting them to lust. It’s best to remove the temptation. I have made an appointment for you with one of our parishioners.”



I touched my beautiful hair lamenting any change but wanting to please him. I foolishly agreed to keep the appointment on Wednesday. The Bible says a wife shall obey her husband in all things and I still loved, trusted and believed in Luke those early years.



I arrived at the salon thirty minutes early to browse through the pictures in the hairstyle books. I selected a simple blunt cut chin length bob cut with long eye framing bangs choosing a hair model with rich dark brown hair that complemented the cut.



Mrs. Sullivan the salon owner and my stylist escorted me to her cutting station. I sat in the chair and she placed the cape around my neck while I opened the book and pointed to the picture.



“I really like this one; I think it will look nice on me.”



Taking the book from me, she said, “You are so right dear, that style would suit you just fine.”



Mrs. Sullivan took the hairpins out of my bun letting my hair drop down into a cute sassy ponytail and I sighed because I loved wearing my hair this way the best.



“You have beautiful hair Mary Beth. Would you like to donate your ponytail to the Locks of Love?”



I nodded daydreaming about how I would curl my hair for Luke when I got home. I was thinking being a brunette would not be so bad after all. Who knew, perhaps our love making might improve.



I assumed that Mrs. Sullivan was going to reposition my ponytail lower at the nape of my neck but instead she took the scissors and started chewing through my medium high ponytail just above the elastic hair tie.



“Mrs. Sullivan, what are you doing?” I cried out in alarm, “I thought we agreed on the bob; now the back will be too short.”



She stopped with a puzzled look on her face but then smiled, replying, “No dear, you misunderstood me; I agreed with you that the style would look nice on you, not that I was going to cut it that way.



Your husband picked out a nice short haircut on Tuesday for you, I thought you knew that.”



After my beautiful golden blonde ponytail was severed from my head she held it up for me to see and then she placed it on the shelf saying she would braid it later before mailing it out.



Taking up the scissors, Mrs. Sullivan cut my hair in a rough bowl shape just touching the top of my ears before I started tearing up.



She stopped and brought me a box of tissues while patting my hand and assuring me that I would look cute in my new style. Mrs. Sullivan then turned the chair around facing me away from the mirror so I couldn’t see what she was doing.



Picking up the electric clippers and snapping a 3/4″(13mm) guard in place, she ran the clippers right up to the bowl, lifting the bowl with a comb



She changed the clipper guards several times: 5/8″(16mm), 1/2″(13mm), 1/4″(6mm) and finally 1/8″(3mm.), running the clippers up the back and sides, tapering and blending, 1/8″(3mm) at my hairline, 3/4″(13mm) at the bottom of the bowl.



We then went to the sink and she rinsed my remaining hair. We returned to the cutting station where she applied the color and told me I would have to wait twenty minutes for the color to set.



I asked to be excused to go to the ladies room and I locked myself in. I put the cover on the toilet down and sat crying my eyes out. I hated Mrs. Sullivan. I hated my husband, and most of all I hated that filthy redneck for touching my hair.



I prayed, calming myself and asked God’s forgiveness for hating them. I lost all track of time.



Mrs. Sullivan knocked on the door startling me. She reminded me that my time was up so I washed my face and left the restroom.



After the excess color was rinsed from my hair it was back to the chair again facing away from the mirror.



Mrs. Sullivan picked up the scissors and comb and started cutting the bowl, further shaping and blending it into the sides and back.



She combed my hair forward and cut short blunt bangs to the middle of my forehead, not the long eye framing sexy ones that I wanted.



I was thinking to myself that I have not had bangs this short since I was four years old. I remembered the picture my parents took of me after I cut my hair in the front; before my mother caught me, stopping me from doing even more damage.



I always take good care of my hair; getting the tips trimmed regularly and applying hot oil treatments bi-monthly to keep it soft and shiny.



When I was first married my tresses were blunt cut all one length with no layers. I wore it center parted or parted off to the right depending on my mood.



When I was a little girl my mother used to brush my hair and braid it for me at bedtime. It was our special time together and we would talk and tell each other secrets.



Finally we would pray together. We had a special prayer…a simple prayer, that we both said together when it was dark and the moon was out. It was the first prayer that I ever learned and I pray as then on moon lit nights.



“I see the moon and the moon sees me. God bless the moon and God bless me.”



My mom brushed my hair the night before my wedding. She braided it for me and that night; there was a full moon. We said our special prayer together for the last time.



I was numb as she continued with my haircut; adding layers to the top and then thinning the top with thinning shears. My hair was barely one inch long on the top now. She finished by rubbing in some hair cream and parting it on the right.



Mrs. Sullivan finally turned the chair around to face the mirror. I did not recognize the person staring back at me.



Mrs. Sullivan was absolutely beaming. May God forgive my bad thoughts about her. She really is a dear sweet Lady.



“You look so cute with short hair Mary Beth. Just shampoo and lightly blow dry for five minutes at the most. Finish the look with a little hair cream to condition and to add shine before you part it and you’re done.”



I was no longer a beautiful sexy blond woman with my hair pinned up in an elegant bun. At best I was a cute brown haired girl with a short boy’s haircut. If I were not wearing a dress and the minimal makeup Luke allowed me I was sure to be mistaken for a teenage boy.



“No charge dear, the Reverend paid in advance and left me a nice tip.”



Leaving the beauty shop I drove to my parent’s house to get my telescope and my astronomy books. While I was driving there it occurred to me that my hair was much shorter than my husband’s.



When I was eight years old my father bought me an expensive telescope. Although used the telescope came with a heavy gauge aluminum carrying case complete with compartments for all the various eyepieces needed for astronomy, photography or viewing wildlife.



On clear nights Dad and I would go to Johnson’s Hill to observe the heavens. I used to take that telescope with me everywhere. Dad referred to it as my security blanket.



My parents comforted me as best they could. I knew that my father was very angry. Nonetheless Dad explained that it was not proper for Mom and him to interfere between a husband and wife. “Our door is always open for you to talk,” Dad assured me as we hugged.



I always feel very safe and secure around my Dad. He was a Marine with the rank of Gunny Sergeant before retiring as an NCIS field agent. Dad is fearless and will not back down to anybody.



Dad is a kind and gentle man with mom and me. I can’t remember him ever raising his voice to us.



When I was thirteen we all went Christmas shopping in Biloxi which we jokingly refer to as the big city. After we pulled into our parking space I opened my car door and accidentally bumped the car next to us chipping the paint.



The occupant, a young man waiting for his girlfriend, jumped out his car and started screaming profanities at me, taking the Lord’s name in vain in his blasphemous tirade. Dad stepped in front me and said to him.



“Son, there can’t be more than four hundred dollars damage to your car if that. I can give the cash or we can exchange insurance information and settle that way. First you will apologize to my wife and daughter.”



“Fuck you asshole and them too!”



I didn’t know Dad could move so fast. He hit the blasphemer twice, two hard jabs to the stomach, knocking the wind out of him and doubling him over.



Dad grabbed his wrist and pinned the man’s arm behind his back. He gradually applied pressure until that dirty-mouthed young man apologized to Dad’s satisfaction; that or suffer a broken arm.



As I said earlier, I tried everything to become pregnant. Finally after three years of trying, and with the help of Dr. McCarthy my fertility specialist; we were finally blessed. My tests showed that I was pregnant with twins.



One afternoon during my third trimester Mom and I were decorating a spare room turning it into a nursery. I left Mom stripping wallpaper while I went to the paint store to pick up and pay for the wallpaper I ordered.



On the way home I was rear-ended at a stoplight by a delivery truck and my compact car was demolished.



There were complications and I had a miscarriage which was followed by infections and more surgery. As a result I would never be able to conceive and have children; I was devastated.



When I returned from the hospital more than anything I needed the support and love from my husband. I so desperately wanted him to make love to me and to make me feel desirable as a woman again.



Luke lost all interest in sex with me for any reason. Sure, Luke went through all the motions of pretending to be a supportive husband; our relationship was mostly platonic.



He put up a good front for my parents and his congregation. Eventually Luke was spending less and less time at home. He was mostly away attending meetings or traveling on church business.



When Luke was home he spent a great deal of time locked in his office, the room once put aside as the nursery.



Under Luke’s guidance our little church grew over the years. We added a full time daycare center open to the public and a huge recreation hall. Luke had his own half-hour radio show on our small local AM radio station.



I was a dutiful wife and I attended all of the Church functions or fundraisers. I was the charming hostess and gracious public wife; we slept in separate bedrooms…. the hell with him. I went back to my natural color and grew my hair out.



I received a substantial insurance settlement six years after my accident. I opened a bank account under my maiden name using a portion of the money to pay for my college. I made sure Luke did not have access to this account.



I remained married to Luke for fifteen, years attending collage part time and then graduating with a four year science degree.



Luke considered the time I spent in college a waste of time and money. He said I did it to annoy him.



I celebrated my graduation by getting a dog to keep me company; to love and return my love.



Brandy was a little female beagle puppy colored white, brown and black. She had four white feet. She was a smart, sweet little thing; I had her house-broken in two weeks.



Brandy followed me everywhere and loved riding in the car with her head out the window. She slept in my bed with me; Luke ignored her. Brandy soon learned to stay out of his way and his feet.



As all puppies are chewers and Brandy was no exception. When she was eleven months old she chewed on one of Luke’s old dress belts that he left on the bathroom floor.



I was grocery shopping at the time and I may have not closed my bedroom door properly. When Luke came home and found his belt he flew into a rage and kicked Brandy in the stomach.



I found her in my bedroom whimpering in pain. I made Luke drive me to the vets to no avail. Brandy died on my lap on the way. I left Luke a week later filing for divorce and I never looked back.



After living with my parents for a month, I found a full time job in a Greek Restaurant as a hostess/waitress twenty miles from my hometown. I rented a two bedroom downstairs apartment in walking distance of work.



The tips were good and I received a small monthly dividend from investments of the insurance settlement.



I sent my resume to the Planetarium in Jackson hoping eventually to get a job there when there was an opening.

Now at thirty- six years of age I was still considered a pretty woman although my figure has filled out over the years.



Ben refers to my womanly figure as buxom and voluptuous. He tells me I am a much-improved version of Marylyn Monroe. My blond hair is well on the way to being waist length. I wear it up in a bun at work or sometimes a French braid. I generally wear it in a simple braid or in a ponytail at home unless Ben requests otherwise…..



Mary Beth cooked the chicken and prepared our dinner while I sat in the grass and played ball with Luna incorporating basic verbal commands and hand signals into our play.



After dinner it was Mary Beth’s time with Luna while I did the dishes and picked up the kitchen; not a problem; cleaning or washing dishes or cooking. This was something I did at work in between calls when my turn came. We both work full time. Sharing our lives includes sharing the household chores; is there any other way?



When I went outside with the radio I found Mary Beth sitting in the rocking chair with Luna sound asleep in her lap. I made a mental note to buy another one so we could rock together. My angel’s telescope was set up in the driveway and ready for us to view the heavens when it got dark.



“Our baby’s exhausted,” Mary Beth said smiling, “I hate to wake her. Will you put Luna on her blanket?



I did and Mary Beth stood, dropping the cushion from the rocker to the floor in front of it. Oh boy, now I was going to get it. I’m going to have to put a gate with an intercom system on the driveway side of the road.



“I want to suck on your cock, Ben,” Mary Beth said smiling sexily while unbuckling my belt. Oh boy, I’m sure I must have been blushing, because my angel kissed my lips, saying, “You’re so sweet, Ben.”



I really must get over this; it’s just us after all. I still can’t believe an ugly cuss like me is with such a beautiful angel.



Not wasting any more time, Mary Beth pulled my pants down and then my boxers. She had me sit in the rocker as she knelt on the cushion and kissed my stomach, followed by giving me a raspberry and giggling.



My angel took the elastic band out of her ponytail a shook her head. I watched her golden blond tresses bounce about her shoulders and back in a wondrous sight to behold.



Mary Beth started kissing my stomach, working her way down to my cock; kissing, licking and sucking on the tip as her silky golden blonde hair fell forward covering her face and my stomach.



I reached down and gathered her hair up into a ponytail and then twisted it up in a bun to keep it out of her mouth. I do so enjoy playing with my angel’s spun golden tresses.



I was trying to hold back and prolong this marvelous blowjob but the first clear pre-cum escaped despite my best efforts. Mary Beth stopped and looked at me smiling, licking her lips and sticking out her tongue to tease me……….



I was determined not to waste a single drop. I would lick and suck his cock and balls, and the heck with my mother’s old fashioned ideas about sex. That’s right; hurray for my new found blossoming sexuality.



Ben tastes delicious and he is mine now. If I do say so myself I’m not doing badly for my first time; his big cock belongs in my mouth as his tongue belongs in my pussy.



Ben let go of my bun just before his orgasm washed over him letting my hair drop onto his stomach and chest like a silky golden blonde waterfall.



He pulled my hair forward from the back and arranged it to cover his chest and stomach. Ben then buried his hands in my hair to hold me in place while filling my mouth with gobs of his thick, creamy semen. I really do love it when Ben takes charge like this.



I tasted and savored every bit before swallowing while wishing for more thinking, “Ben’s seed tastes so complex and a little hard to describe…hmm… a little salty and a little sweat but creamy and rich and not at all what I expected; yes definitely hints of testosterone, but mostly it tastes like my sweet and thoughtful Ben.’



I put my arms above my head stretching and smiling while Mary Beth knelt straight, throwing her head back to arrange most of her hair over her back and shoulders while letting the front fall forward to do another peek-a-boo with her blue eyes.



I was thinking, ‘Peek-a-boo, blue eyes, you are spoiling me and you do it so nicely………..’



I had been working at the Pegasus Dinner on the day shift for about eight months when my boss, Mr. Poppadopalus, asked me if I would do him a favor.



I agreed to work the midnight shift and my regular shift for the next two weeks.



After the bars close we generally get very busy in the early morning hours before it slows down to a crawl.



I had a table of college boys, jocks all eight of them. They have been coming in for the past three days. They always sat in the section of tables assigned to me.



That evening the late night/morning prep- cook and the third night-shift waitress called in sick. The boss was not answering his telephone. This could only mean his youngest daughter had her baby.



One young man in particular, John, considered himself God’s gift to women and he constantly flirted with me.



John tried for three nights to get me to go out with him on a date. I always declined causing his buddies to make fun of him. I believed they had some sort of bet going on involving me and I was insulted.



I really needed this job and the generous double time I was being paid to work nights. John was accustomed to getting his way and didn’t take well to the teasing his buddies gave him.



Not that John is merely good looking; he is drop dead gorgeous at six-three; slim with thick blond hair and blue eyes.



Besides, I was not sure if I ever wanted a man in my life again except for my father.



John changed tactics that night. Every time I walked by their table he kept asking me to take my hair down while his buddies silently encouraged him.



When that didn’t work he actually offered me money to do so if I would do it in front of his pals. As the evening progressed John kept upping the ante and I became more insulted with each offer.



This third night most of them finally tired of their game. All of John’s buddies left except for one huge hulk the jocks nicknamed him Diesel. He was at least half-a-foot taller than and almost twice as wide as the rest of them.



The two jocks, Alice, another waitress and I were the only people in the restaurant aside from a man drinking coffee in her section.



He was dressed in nondescript clothing and was of average build and height. The poor dear was walking with a cane or at least that is what I assumed to be the case.



He was quietly sitting alone at a corner table unnoticed seeming to blend into the background. Come to think of it I do not remember him coming in or how long he had been there.



I was sitting in a booth near the kitchen door on my break having tea and a small salad while Alice was covering both sections. John walked over and sat down next to me uninvited, blocking me in. He placed five hundred dollars on the table while his buddy Diesel sat down across from me, smirking.



“There are five one-hundred dollar bills on the table. That is more money than a low class stuck up bitch like you makes in a week,” John announced, “You should have gone out with me when you had the chance because I might even have done you a favor and allowed you to give me a blow job.



Better yet I might have given you a sympathy fuck. I have already asked you nicely to take your hair down,” John stated putting a pair of scissors on the table, pushing them in front of me.



“It’s too late for that now. I have decided that you are going to sell me your ponytail. Shall you cut it off, or shall I?”



As John reached for my bun I could see the unbridled lust on his face and I was afraid he wanted more than just my hair.



Suddenly there was a loud bang coming from the booth next to us; startled we all looked in that direction. The handicapped man had walked up to us quietly unnoticed and hit the tabletop with his cane to get our attention.



“Now that I have your undivided attention, I strongly advise you boys to leave… now,” The man said, the one I recognized from the corner having coffee.



“But first, you will apologize to this gentle Lady.”



He was leaning on his cane and I could tell from his accent that he was not from Mississippi.



“Fuck off Yankee, this is a private party and you’re not invited. This bitch is interested in real men not some cripple like you,” Diesel declared.



“We are conducting a business transaction and it’s none of your concern. If you don’t want your ass kicked up between your shoulders blades leave now,” John added, hitting our table with his fist.



With practiced ease the man slid his hand down the shaft of the cane almost to the ferrule and with one quick motion used the rounded handle to pull the money and scissors from the table to the floor. He slid the cane through his hand again grasping the shaft in the middle.



Diesel got out of the booth saying “I’m going to stick that cane up your ass, Yankee,” and Diesel threw a roundhouse punch at the man’s head.



Not a cripple at all and obviously skilled in cane fighting the stranger moved to one side and easily avoided Diesel’s fist.



Taking advantage of the Diesel’s imbalance and momentum from the wild punch he hooked the jock’s ankle with the cane and pulled him off his feet.



Diesel crashed to the floor, hard, dislocating his shoulder in the process. Surprisingly, he slowly got up using his good arm for support. The jock managed to stand determined to keep fighting.



Diesel’s right arm was hanging limp and useless at his side and the Yankee then drove the tip of his cane into Diesel’s solar plexus, doubling Diesel over and knocking the wind out of him.



“Had enough, boy?” The stranger asked.



Diesel turned to his friend. He was holding his stomach with his good arm gasping for air while his eyes were pleading with his friend John for help.



John was looking down. He had the same expression on his face as did Luke when the dirty redneck confronted Luke in the parking lot while I sat there frightened and did nothing; the look of a spineless coward.



This time there was no sheriff’s car in the parking lot to save me and Alice had locked herself in the Ladies Room.



Ashamed of myself, I pushed John out of the booth and walked past him and his friend to stand next to the Yankee; to help him if necessary.



He glanced at me and smiled but then turned his attention to them.



“I won’t ask again, boy, have you had enough?”



Looking down Diesel nodded yes.



“Put your drivers’ license on the table and then stand in that corner facing the wall.” The Yankee pointed to a corner with his cane and Diesel reluctantly complied.



My Yankee sighed leaning on his cane shaking his head at John, “We’re waiting?”



“Listen dude. I…”John started to say.



That’s Mr. Yankee to you…boy!”



I stifled a nervous laugh by covering my mouth with my hand and I was thinking, ‘Mr. Yankee?’



“You wouldn’t be so tough without your cane,” John said with false bravado, “You have a weapon and I don’t. It wouldn’t be a fair fight.”



Mr. Yankee straightened up and stretched. He smiled as he tossed the cane at the jock’s feet, ordering, “Pick it up!”



John looked at the cane not moving.



Sighing again and shaking his head, the Yankee said in a mocking southern drawl, “Boy, the best part of you ran down your mama’s legs when you were conceived.



It’s a fact the man you think is your daddy wasn’t even there at the time, although I’m sure all the men in town were there with your mama one time or another.”



Mr. Yankee then reverted back to the way he really talked.



“Under the circumstances I decided that I’m not going to allow either of you to soil this gentle Lady’s ears with an apology.”



He took my hand in his and squeezed gently. His hand was warm, strong and callused and I didn’t want him to let go.



I was no longer frightened. I waited to see what would happen next.



“Put your driver’s license on the table next to your friend’s and then sit down.” John did as he was told.



Diesel fainted sliding down the wall to his knees. After all that just happened the Yankee went over to Diesel and rolled him to a sitting position, leaning him against the wall.



“I’m going to put your arm back in place, son and it’s going to hurt, do you understand?” He said, sternly



Diesel nodded while the sweat was pouring off of him from the pain. Mr. Yankee put his hand on the jock’s shoulder and pulled popping his shoulder back in place. For whatever else he is Diesel is no coward and took it like a man, not letting out as much as a whimper.



Walking back to where I was standing Mr. Yankee took my hand again and I let him.



“You both can leave now but remember, boys, we know who you are and where you live.”



Diesel nodded and got up slowly from the floor.



Walking over to the cane he put one hand up in the air as if asking for permission. Using only his thumb and index finger bent down and picked it up slowly with great deliberation, almost reverence.



He put it on the table with a solemn, serious look on his face; Diesel nodded and my Yankee nodded back.



As they were walking toward the door, John reached down on the floor for the money. Diesel took it away from him and put it on a table.



“Hey! What about my money!” John exclaimed.



“Leave it, it’s her tip,” Diesel barked, pushing John roughly toward the door.



“But they still have our drivers’ licenses!” John whined.



“Shut the Fu…” Diesel stopped not finishing his sentence and then slowly raised his hand again.



“Shut your mouth, John, It is over and so are we.”



“Diesel you don’t understand, I….” John started to say.



Diesel backhanded him in the mouth with his left hand and John staggered back, holding his mouth and nose with blood dripping between his fingers. He stood in place with a shocked look on his face.



“I understand just fine, John, you didn’t help me. You aren’t even worth a punch in the face. I heard what he said about your mother. Mary Beth really must be something special and a real Lady because her boyfriend is willing to take us both on.”



Diesel grabbed his former friend by the front shirt and headed for the door.



“Diesel” I called after him “Apology accepted.”



Diesel nodded his head, closing the door quietly behind them. My Yankee let go of my hand and we watched Alice come out of the bathroom as if nothing had happened and go into the kitchen to clean the grill.



Turning to really look at Mr. Yankee for the first time I saw that he was in his mid-to-late thirties. I would guess his height to be five-five, a good four inches shorter than me.



The two jocks were at least a foot taller and easily out weighted him by a hundred pounds. Diesel absolutely dwarfed him.



My rescuer had a pronounced receding hairline much like my father’s, sensibly cutting his hair short to the scalp.



This Yankee who Diesel assumed to be my boyfriend was not what you would call a handsome man. In truth he was charitably plain looking at best and bordering on homely.



Most women would not have given him a second glance. I used to be one of those women; when I was seventeen not even a first.



Perhaps his nose is a bit large but his light gray eyes are warm and kind and his eyelids wrinkled on the sides now that he was smiling at me.



Ben is somewhat shy and reserved around women until he gets to know them; however he is strong and assertive when need be around other men.



I still can make him blush when we are alone. I love it when he hugs me and I still have to remind him that I won’t break.



Ben loves to touch me and be touched…something I never got from Luke. He is a thoughtful gentle lover and will always pleasure me first and then he will cuddle with me afterwards.



“I’m pleased to meet you kind sir,” I said smiling, unsure how to thank a strange man from saving me from God knows what, “Do you make a habit out of saving women in distress?”



I felt a little foolish after I said that, but I couldn’t just continue to stare at him. Ben blushed and smiled looking down and then up. I could see he was a little shy and not accustomed to being praised. I found this to be so sweet.



I watched Ben gather his courage as he held out his hand to introduce himself. I noticed how his eyes wrinkled at



Ben’s smile is a glad to meet you smile, genuine and warm. But mostly it is his eyes and the way he was looking at me.



Ben has such expressive eyes, as if he was looking into my soul, but sad at the same time. I have never met a man who could convey so many thoughts or emotions just with his eyes.



They were so cold…. like a glacier, frigid, overwhelmingly unyielding when he confronted those boys. Now Ben’s eyes were melting like a spring thaw, pure and clean water washing over me.



“I’m pleased to meet you Mary Beth. My name is Ben Ward and you are my first since I left the NYCFD.”



We sat and had tea together. We talked. I found out Ben is originally from New York City and was a fireman. Ben is currently working at the local hospital as a certified EMT.



Ben told me that he bought a house outside of the city with 5 ½ acres for the taxes two months ago after having lived in a studio apartment all of his life. He was looking forward to a slower more laid- back lifestyle where he could spread out.



Ben also said that he always wanted to fish the huge catfish found in the Mississippi River and after doing it a few times here on vacation he fell in love with our State and the river.



I also found out that Ben grew up in a Catholic orphanage. He actually went to the seminary to become a priest.



Ben is also the first fireman I have ever met who is fluent in Greek, Latin, Hebrew and Aramaic.



“The place needs a lot of work and that’s a fact but the price was right, Mary Beth. I have already gutted the inside. Everything is now down to the bare studs. Next week I will be having a new casement and pump installed for my well.”



Ben told me his address and I was surprised to learn he lived one road over from me. I told him a little bit about my acrimonious divorce and how I loved astronomy; enforcing that this job is only temporary.



He responded by saying, “I’ve never been married. I guess I never found the right girl but I’ll know when I find her and she will know it too; I’ve prayed on that.”



I saw the sadness in his eyes then, but it passed when he changed the subject and talked about his dog. Ben’s face lit up with the sunshine of his warm smile.



“Sophie has been with me 13 years now. Sure she’s slowing down a bit but that’s all right. She is eating well and is still able to get around.”



“What kind of dog is she, Ben?”



“Sophie’s a beagle and was abandoned as a puppy because she’s deaf.



I got her at the animal shelter almost minutes before she was to be put down. I guess nobody wanted her… much like me, but I really love the old girl…… Did I say something to upset you?” Ben asked.



I was thinking about my Brandy and he must have seen it in my face.



“No, it is nothing, and will you look at the time. I have been sitting here almost two hours and the boss will be here soon.”



I said while I got up to start the prep-work for the breakfast run.



“Mary Beth, wait!”



I turned to look at him. Ben swallowed and then stood up taking a deep breath.



“Do you think we could have dinner together sometime or even simply a cup of coffee and dessert when you have more time? It does not have to be here, but it can if you want it too.”



“I’m sorry Ben; I am not ready for that yet, I’m not sure that I will ever be.”



I could see the hurt in his eyes even though his expression did not change…. except for losing the wrinkles near his eyes.

She should have known that meeting Claudia in this state would lead to trouble.



“You look like death warmed up Ellie, what have you been doing this past week?”



“Well, I’ve just been going out a lot, that’s all. I’m fine, really. How are you?” Ellie tried to distract her good friend from the blatant lie she’d told. They both knew she wasn’t fine.



“You’re not fine Ellie. Haven’t you been sleeping? Please talk to Gavin. He loves you. Just tell him how you’re feeling, please, for goodness’ sake.”



Ellie didn’t respond immediately. How could she tell Claudia about the past week? The sex club, John her new fuck buddy, Liz and Bob the swingers…



Hmmm, Liz and Bob…. her drug-addled brain flashed back to Wednesday night at their house in New Hills. She’d already been aroused when she was greeted at the door by Liz.



“Welcome to our love nest Ellie. We’re both so glad you could make it.”



It was clear from the address, the architecture and the décor that Liz and Bob were very well off. The house wouldn’t quite make mansion status, but it certainly came close. The foyer and main living room where they passed through first were all gleaming white surfaces, wooden antique furniture and plush fabrics.



“Can I get you a drink at all?” Bob offered, with that twinkling smile of his that went all the way to his eyes.



“I’m fine actually, thanks. I, ummm, errr, I’ve taken something.” Ellie responded shyly.



“Oh?” Liz wondered aloud and arched her eyebrows in Bob’s direction.



“Look, don’t worry, I’m fine – really. The last few days I’ve had quite a bit of practice with ecstasy, you know? I know what I can handle.”



“No, no love, you misunderstand. We don’t mind at all. We do prefer coke though. We don’t have any tonight. We thought it wouldn’t be appropriate, for your sake. We didn’t want to scare you off.” Bob smiled his twinkling smile again and Ellie suddenly realized that the ecstasy was doing its job.



“Oh my god Ellie, I just saw your pupils dilate all of a sudden…. Bob, it’s time get to down to business.”



As they swept her off to their boudoir Ellie felt a rush of arousal and a wonderful feeling of calm and happiness sweep over her. Before she knew it she was undressed down to her lingerie and stilettos and Bob and Liz were both sitting on the bed admiring her from across the room.



It felt like they were miles away and she imagined she was stripping for an audience. She ran her fingers through her own hair, down the front of her body, over her black lace bra and rested her hands on her hips over the suspender belt.



She hadn’t bothered to put knickers on and had to resist the impulse to go straight for her clit. With enough of her conscious mind still active to realize they were watching, she swayed in time to the raunchy soundtrack that was playing in her head. Even the swaying of her own hips was building up sexual pressure down there, so when she felt Liz and Bob’s bodies in full contact with hers, she was almost ready to explode.



They might have been whispering compliments in her ears. There may have been real music playing. Ellie didn’t know or care. All she could think of were the sensations sweeping through every nerve in her body.



She’d always thought of her heart as her centre, until that night. That night she was acutely aware that every part of her was connected directly to her pussy.



Liz’s soft mouth was all over hers and Bob’s hands were massaging her breasts from behind. Are all girls’ mouths so soft and luscious? Ellie moved Liz to the bed, with Bob in tow, and positioned herself between her legs.



The soft folds were glistening with moisture. Ellie and Liz moaned softly in tandem as Ellie closed her mouth over them. Ellie proceeded to take Liz’s most sensitive parts into her mouth, as if she were slowly and sensually devouring a mango.



She made contact with Liz’s clit and applied very firm pressure with the flat of her tongue. Liz responded immediately with a moan and by lifting her hips of the bed. It was Liz’s unconscious physiological reaction though that brought Ellie close to the edge, the way her body sent forth more moisture and her opening suddenly relaxed and softened.



Bob had been massaging Ellie’s breasts and she was vaguely aware for a moment that he’d stopped. The explanation came in the form of the rustling of the condom packaging and a moment later he was back.



He put a finger inside Ellie and she unconsciously did the same for Liz. But one finger wasn’t enough for Ellie, so she ground two fingers inside of Liz while she simultaneously went back to firmly sweeping her tongue around and around her clit. She was hoping Bob would get the message and he certainly did – jamming his cock into her waiting body with gusto.



Ellie couldn’t think now about what she was doing to Liz, it just became a mash of thrusting fingers and moaning pressure as they all came at once.



Claudia’s concern burst rudely into her pleasant thoughts. “Ellie, look at you, you’re in fairy land. You’re clearly not fine. Call Gavin.”



The confusing mix of sadness and anger that Ellie had been feeling suddenly overwhelmed her. It was as if the ecstasy she’d been into lately had taken all the happiness from today and tomorrow and had used it up over the last week.



She knew she was unreasonably angry with Claudia over what was, after all, an astute observation by a caring friend – but she said it anyway. “Oh Claudia, would you shut the hell up please about Gavin. I’m not seeing Gavin anymore, I’ve been screwing a guy called John and it’s been great OK?”



The shocked look on Claudia’s face gave Ellie a tiny sliver of perverse pleasure in what was otherwise a very bleak day. That is until she followed Claudia’s gaze over her left shoulder and saw Gavin standing within earshot. The look on his face wasn’t pleasing at all and tears burned the back of Ellie’s eyes.



“Oh Gavin, I’m so sorry.”



“It’s OK Ellie, I didn’t know we were that far gone, but I’m glad I know now. I’ll leave you alone.”



“No, no, please, please don’t go. I want to explain.”



“I’m not sure there’s anything to explain. I think I’ve made enough of a fool of myself, pursuing you when you’d made it clear that… my love….” he choked on the words, “wasn’t welcome.”



“No, no, that’s how I felt, foolish for having pursued you. Scared to believe you. Can’t you see that?” Ellie could hear the pleading in her voice. A week ago she would have been embarrassed to be so open about her feelings, but the loneliness and the drugs and the lack of sleep had stripped her bare. Honesty was her only option.



At that moment Claudia quickly took her leave and Gavin sat down in her place.



“I apologized Ellie. I’m very sorry for what I said. I don’t know what you want from me. Why are you seeing someone else? Do you have feelings for him?”



Ellie laughed in spite of herself. Feelings for John? Ha, not likely – unless orgasms count as feelings? She realized just a second too late that she was chuckling. Gavin looked extremely confused.



“Are you laughing at me?”



“No. No. Not at all, it’s just that, well, he’s just a fuck buddy. I couldn’t, you know, come, with Trav and so I went to a sex club and met John.”



“So, in the past two weeks, during the time you’ve refused to speak to me, you’ve had sex with some guy called Trav and picked up a fuck buddy called John at a sex club?”



Even with the sleep-deprived haze she was in Ellie could see this wasn’t going well and had to try to gather her thoughts. Definitely not a good time to confess to him the wonderful time she’d had with Liz and Bob.



She held up her hand, gesturing the waitress over to their table.



“Do you want a drink?”



Gavin just sat there in silence, not even able to consider her offer of a drink. He’d believed when they were together that he’d had the best of her in a sexual sense – brought her out of herself in a way. This news that she was actually much more experienced and confident than he’d known left him feeling… betrayed. He knew it wasn’t fair. She’d never actually said that he’d taken her further than anyone else… and yet, the feeling remained. The weird sense of betrayal, combined with the sickening sense of jealousy that was gripping him suddenly made him acutely aware of the blood pounding in his temples.



Ellie had to say something. She couldn’t sit there in silence with the waitress wondering what was going on.



“I’ll just have a Pepsi please.” Yes, that might help, she thought with desperation. Her one week experience with ecstasy had taught her that a little caffeine and sugar could bring some focus back after a big night.



“Look Gavin. Yes, I was trying to forget you. It was really difficult. I called Trav, an ex-boyfriend – but only because when you visited the shop I was left so on edge. But that didn’t work, so I was talking to Jake and he suggested the sex club.”



“Jake!” The incredulous look on his face told her that it wasn’t even a question.



“My gay friend from home.”



Ellie’s brain was completely fried and it seemed that the Pepsi wasn’t doing the trick. How to avoid making this worse?



“Gavin, I’m really tired right now, I haven’t slept very well this week and I’d like to talk to you when I’ve got myself together a bit more. Can you call me in the morning?”



“OK. If that’s what you want.” She could hear the disappointment in his voice, but couldn’t think of the right words to reassure him in her exhausted state.



“Thanks.” She leaned over to kiss him goodbye and he turned his face so she could only reach his cheek.



Gavin was immediately sorry that he’d elicited that crushed look from her again, but a kiss like the one she’d given him a couple of weeks ago would have shattered his heart. And after the way she’d boasted about her sexual exploits today he knew that he had to protect himself from her. It seemed like she was determined to constantly find new ways to hurt him – and he knew for sure she didn’t love him. Still, if she wanted to see him again, maybe he could love her enough for the both of them.



Ellie went home. She couldn’t help but cry, even though she took some comfort in the knowledge that she was finally going to sort everything out with Gavin in the morning.

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