Richard was sitting in the living room watching The Biggest Loser — thinking to himself: I am a big loser for watching this — when the doorbell rang. He looked at his wife, who indicated her disinclination for answering the door by reaching for another fistful of Orville Redenbacher’s finest.



With a long-suffering sigh, Richard got up and padded to the door.



If it’s a bloody salesman, I’ll…



It was a familiar refrain. He never did discover what he’d do (beyond listening politely to the pitch) before closing the door gently on the individual who looked at him as though he’d just stepped on a puppy.



The individual on the doorstep was not a salesman. Infinitely worse — it was a saleswoman, complete with a name tag and a tote bag of samples or whatever. To Richard’s annoyance, this saleswoman evidently suffered from illiteracy given that she had not heeded the No Soliciting sign displayed prominently on the door.



Richard was about to point this out in the most firm (yet polite) manner possible when the sunniest smile he’d ever seen stuffed his words back into his mouth.



“Good evening,” said the girl. The girl was red-haired, green eyed, and becomingly freckled. Richard noted that this attribute extended to the upper slopes of her chest, where a galaxy of freckles swirled like stars above a remarkably curvaceous landscape.



The girl was, he estimated, in her early twenties. She was petite and perky and (as far as Richard could see) impossibly wholesome. She’d outgrow all of that eventually, but for now Richard was positively smitten.



“Good evening,” said Richard, finally finding his voice after an unnerving pause.



“You are the man of the house?”



He liked that: man of the house. King of his castle (such as it was). Master of his domain.



“I am. But look, I have to tell you that whatever it is that you’re selling, I either have it already or don’t need it.”



The girl smiled a beatific smile that lit her face and caused Richard a certain sympathetic afterglow. “I doubt it,” she said.



“Come again?”



“You don’t even know what I’m selling. You can’t say that you don’t need it before you know what it is,” she chided.



True, he thought. “What is it then?”



“Orgasms,” she said matter-of-factly.



Had he heard right? “Orgasms,” he repeated.



The girl nodded. “The biggest orgasm you’ve ever had. Guaranteed.”



“Let me get this straight. You’re selling orgasms?”



The girl nodded with a hint of exasperation, as though she were speaking to someone of meager wit.



“That’s… er… unusual.”



“I get that a lot. Or would you rather have the greenest lawn in the neighborhood? If so, there’s someone canvassing your street a few minutes behind me.”



“Oh. No.” Any self respecting king of a castle took care of his own lawn.



“At any rate, satisfaction is guaranteed or your money back.”



“For an orgasm?”



“Absolutely.”



“But you can’t commodify orgasms,” Richard protested. “It just isn’t done.”



“Why not?” asked the girl.



Richard had no answer for that.



“If you think about it,” continued the girl, “knowledge is commodified in the selling of encyclopedias. Why not this?”



Before Richard could formulate a response — he suspected that the logic was faulty — June’s voice rang out from the depths of the house. “Who is it?” she yelled from the living room.



“A salesperson,” said Richard.



“What does he want?”



“She. She wants to sell me an orgasm.”



Without missing a beat, June called, “Tell her that you already had one.”



“You can never have too many,” said the girl helpfully.



“True,” said Richard. Realizing that he’d kept her on his doorstep too long and that the lawn care guy was just a few doors down, he invited her in.



He led her to the living room.



“June, this is…”



“Melanie,” offered the girl.



“And this is June and I’m Richard.”



“Dick,” said the girl.



“Oh, he doesn’t like Dick,” said June.



Richard winced.



“Richard it is, then,” said Melanie with a dazzling grin.



June, invested as she was in the weight loss struggles of a bunch of overweight strangers on television, invited Melanie and Richard to go away with an imperious wave of her hand. They retired to the kitchen.



“Water?” asked Richard.



“That would be great.”



After Richard had ensured that Melanie would be properly hydrated, he asked, “So how does this work?”



“It’s pretty simple, really. I’m going to show you some techniques that will guarantee a spectacular climax. Later, you’ll be able to employ these techniques by yourself or with your wife to ensure mind-blowing climaxes every time.”



“Techniques?”



“Let me surprise you. It’ll be easier that way.”



All this talk about techniques and orgasms had Richard a little aroused.



“Okay,” said Richard after negotiating the terms. “But let me check with June.”



In sharp contrast with the excitement that Richard now felt, the contestants on the television were looking positively miserable.



“What do you think?” he asked June.



Not taking her eyes from the screen, she said, “I suppose it’s okay if you really want one.”



Melanie smiled again, unleashing a tingle of expectation in Richard’s nether regions. “That’s great!”



“Well then, where would you want to do this?”asked Richard.



“The bedroom is customary, but we can do it here or even in the kitchen if you’d prefer.”



“Off to the bedroom then.”



“Will you be joining us?” Melanie asked June.



“Give me ten minutes. Fifteen tops.”



Richard led Melanie to the bedroom and closed the door behind them. She placed her bag at the foot of the bed.



“You should take off your clothes,” said Melanie.



“You want me naked?”



“It usually works better that way.”



Richard hesitated.



“Do you want me to go first?” asked Melanie.



“Um… Sure.”



“Great. It’s easier and more effective if both of us are naked, but some folks don’t like it for some reason. Go figure.”



“Go figure,” said Richard, mouth suddenly dry. He watched as she stripped, folding her clothes carefully and placing them beside the bed. Melanie was perfectly proportioned and sported a tattoo of small butterfly to the left of a neat strip of pubic hair. Her belly button, as seemed the custom of girls of her age, sported a gleaming jewel of some sort.



“You’re pretty,” observed Richard lamely.



“Thanks.”



“But I have to ask — why are you doing this?”



“For one,” she said, approaching him and placing her hands on his belt, “I enjoy it. Then there’s the transferring of knowledge and the public service, which is rewarding in itself. And it pays for my tuition.”



When she’d finished divesting Richard of his clothing — something that he found unnervingly erotic — Melanie took a step back. “You’re a fine looking man, Richard,” she observed as he fidgeted, naked and self-conscious.



He could feel himself blush. “Nonsense. Overweight. Over the hill.”



She put her small, delicate hand on his chest and said earnestly, “Don’t sell yourself short.”



Short is one thing Richard couldn’t sell himself as, for at that moment his erection brushed the wings of her butterfly.



“Ooh,” she cooed. “Look at that! You do seem a willing pupil.”



Richard was too embarrassed to “look at that” and decided to look instead at Melanie’s breasts. Small, pert nipples. He loved those.



“What I’d like you to do is lie down on your back on the edge of the bed.”



Richard did so, draping his legs over the edge, wishing that he could cover his boner.



Melanie sat on the floor between his legs. She rummaged around in her bag.



“Have you ever heard of the P-spot?” she asked conversationally.



For Richard, the P-spot was the far corner of the yard that he’d visit when he’d had too much to drink on his deck at night and was too lazy to go to the bathroom and was sure that June had gone to bed.



“No,” he said.



“You’ve heard of the G-spot though.”



“Of course.”



“The P-spot is the male counterpart.”



“Oh.”



“Now this is where it might get a little dicey. You’re not a prude, are you? Squeamish?”



“I don’t think so.”



“Good…”



Richard heard the unmistakable sound of latex being snapped over a hand.



“Because the best way to the P-spot is through here.”



Richard felt a poking at his butt. “Oh.”



“Are you okay with that?”



“If that’s where it is,” replied Richard gamely.



“You have to relax.”



“Alright,” said Richard tightly.



Richard felt the application of something cool and slippery down there, followed by the insinuation of a finger.



“Hello!” he squealed.



“Relax. It’s just a finger.”



“Then why does it feel like a baseball bat?”



“Shh,” whispered Melanie. “Deep breaths.”



Richard did as she asked and it helped. After the initial surprise and snapping shut of his alarmed sphincter, he found himself growing increasingly aroused.



Melanie manipulated the tip of her finger in and out of his anus and Richard concentrated on his breath. To his surprise, it felt good and completely unlike the prostate exams inflicted upon him by his sausage-fingered general practitioner.



“Okay, I’ll be going in a little deeper now.”



Richard felt the inexorable advance of Melanie’s well-lubricated finger. He brought his legs up and surreptitiously spread his cheeks. I’m a slut, he thought. The finger slipped in and out, deeper each time on the penetrating stroke until he felt that it was completely inserted.



“Wow,” he said.



“And now the good part,” whispered Melanie. With a wiggle of her finger, she touched the mysterious P-spot, that thing that under the ministrations of a doctor had never revealed itself as a particularly inviting sexual destination.



“Holy shit!”



The touch was electric and blessedly… Richard had to think for a moment… blessedly internal. Excitement flared from the inside out as she ran her finger around the contours of his prostate.



“What’s going on here?”



It was June. Evidently her show had finally ended.



“We’re just trying to find Richard’s prostate.”



“His prostate? Whatever would you want to do with that?”



Melanie explained while fluttering her finger around its surface. June took a closer look.



“Is your finger where I think it is?”



Melanie smiled.



“Oh my.”



“And if I’m not mistaken, There’s a particularly sensitive bit right… here.”



Richard yelped.



“You see,” explained Melanie in a conversational tone, “the prostate is shaped roughly like a walnut. I’ve learned that stroking it…”



She did so…



“…or pressing against certain parts of it…”



She did so again…



“…can elicit a response not unlike this.”



“Holy crap!”



“I had no idea,” said June. “Is it good, Richard?”



“Uh huh,” he gasped.



“I’m glad you came up, June. Would you like to help?”



“You seem to be doing fine by yourself.”



“But June,” chided Melanie, “Think of this as an opportunity.”



“It’s unnatural.”



“What’s unnatural about giving pleasure?”



June had no answer.



“Giving and receiving pleasure is the most natural thing in the world, however consenting partners choose to do it. What’s unnatural, perhaps even criminal, is the denying of pleasure.”



You go girl, thought Richard. He peeked at June, expecting her have gotten her back up at the lecture.



“Besides,” continued Melanie, “between the two of us, I’m sure that we can make this memorable, okay?”



Unexpectedly, June gave a mischievous smile. “Just tell me what you want me to do.”



Oh fuck, thought Richard, it was a uterine conspiracy.



While Melanie’s finger traced the outline of his gland, he felt a familiar hand grasping his cock. Under Melanie’s anal ministrations, even June’s touch felt new and exceedingly arousing.



The combination of interior and exterior sensation were unlike anything Richard had ever experienced. The sensations battled for his attention. The root of his cock felt electric, while his length felt as though it could hardly contain itself.



“Go easy,” said Melanie. “Let’s not end this too soon. Can you hold the fort for a second?”



“Sure,” replied June as she continued stroke him slowly and deliberately.



Melanie removed her finger. It felt much longer on withdrawal than it had on entry.



Richard could hear her rummaging around in her bag.



“Close your eyes, Richard. I have a surprise for you.”



He could hear straps being fastened and adjustments being made. Richard couldn’t resist and opened one eye. When he saw what awaited him, he wished he hadn’t. Melanie had strapped herself into a leather contraption that boasted a large, blue dildo of remarkable proportions.



“I told you not to peek.”



Melanie winked as she reached for the lube.



“Oh my God,” moaned Richard.



“Don’t be a baby. It’s just a starter dong.”



You’re not putting that thing in me, are you?”



“Why not?”



“But it’s huge!”



“Doesn’t prevent you from sticking something even bigger in my butt though, does it?” asked June.



“But that’s different,” protested Richard, knowing that it was precisely the wrong thing to say the moment the words left his lips.



“It’s not different at all,” intervened Melanie. “And there’s nothing about this that makes you less of a man. That said, that double standard will cost you.”



Melanie placed her hands behind Richard’s knees and pushed his legs up and apart. June’s hand still stroked his cock, but for the moment all he could think of was the dildo that currently rubbed against the protective tightness of his anus.



“Hold them there,” commanded Melanie.



Richard took a deep, steadying breath and held his legs.



Melanie positioned herself properly and pressed the tip of the dildo against him. He resisted for a moment and Melanie pressed harder.



“It’s not going to work,” said Richard.



“Nonsense.”



With a firm thrust, it breached the ring of muscle ever so slightly. Immediately, Richard knew beyond a doubt that this was no finger.



Melanie pressed a little more and Richard felt himself widening to accommodate her. His heart fluttered in his chest. The sensation was simultaneously terrifying and thrilling.



Just when he felt that he could take no more, the head of the dildo buried itself completely within him. He could feel himself embracing its smooth surface as it moved shallowly in and out.



“You’re doing great,” said Melanie. “But that was the easy part.”



Richard was so taken by the sense of fullness and of accomplishment that he scarcely heard her.



“There’s a second ring of muscle that we have to get past.”



Melanie pushed again and seemed to hit an implacable barrier.



“You need to relax,” said Melanie softly as she pressed firmly against the unyielding muscle.



Little by little, Richard could feel himself opening to her coaxing and insistent thrusts. Just when he thought that he could take no more, the crown of the head breached the barrier and slid solidly in place.



“Oh,” was all he could manage.



He felt full. Replete.



Melanie withdrew and buried herself within him again.



“Good?” she asked.



“That’s not the word,” he moaned.



He could feel June adjusting herself on the bed as Melanie worked the dildo within him. Soon, Melanie’s exquisite actions were complemented by June’s mouth, which descended slowly past the engorged crown of his cock and down the shaft.



Never in his life had Richard been so completely possessed. Between the tongue that lapped him and the length of the shaft that brushed and cajoled him from within, he positively thrummed with electricity.



Melanie’s slow and deliberate strokes gradually quickened.



“You’re going to come for us, aren’t you?”



Richard moaned in answer.



June removed him from her mouth and grasped him firmly in her hand.



The two of them worked in perfect unison, driving Richard to the edge.



With a gasp, he tightened himself around the dildo…



“Oh…”



And bore down…



“My…”



And erupted.



“God!”



“Whee,” exclaimed June, pumping furiously as a geyser pumped out of Richard’s cock.



“That’s it!” cried Melanie, still firmly embedded within him.



Richard moaned something unintelligible at the top of his lungs.



The three of them lay on the bed.



Richard felt perfectly gelatinous and incapable of thought or movement.



“And that’s what they call pegging,” said Melanie.



“Interesting,” said June.



“So,” said Melanie, swinging her legs to the floor, “would you say that I kept up my end of the deal?”



She and June both looked at Richard. He nodded weakly.



“Do you agree?” she asked June.



“I think so.”



“And that concludes the contract. Unless there’s anything else, I’ll take my leave.”



“There is one thing,” said June.



“What?”



“Would you leave the toys behind?”



Melanie smiled. “Done.”



***



As always, comments and suggestions are welcome.

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