Multiple Partners

Jen clicked on the swinging web site. Her heartbeat quickened. They had mail. She brought up the mailbox and saw Elizabeth and Ned had finally responded. She inhaled deeply before pushing the button. Would they want to get together, or had they had a change of mind?

Hi Jen and Brett,

So good to get your positive response! Great pics!

Jen relaxed and settled back to read what appeared to be a long email.

We're so pleased you're willing to give us a try. We know our situation is awkward for most folks, but Ned really wants me not to miss out on what he can no longer provide. And I must confess, I do love having sex with a man and a woman. This arrangement may seem too strange to many, but it works for us. And ultimately, that's what counts. We all have choices to make."

Jen nodded at the screen. Would she and Brett have the kind of courage Elizabeth and Ned seemed to possess? Would their love survive such a personal calamity? She hoped never to find out, but her appreciation for Elizabeth and Ned deepened the more she learned of them. Alice and Carl thought the couple special—so they probably were. She scrolled further down the page.

Vibrators are nice, but for me they don't replicate the real thing. I thank God daily that Ned is so supportive. Of course, I wouldn't think of hooking up with anyone without him being present. It may seem strange to you, but he really is involved. I wonder if he wasn't a voyeur all his life. He loves to watch and cheer us on. And occasionally he'll get so excited he will help us with a finger or a toy. I wish you would've had a chance to know him before…he really could please a woman. He still does. Only now, he has to depend on surrogates. Perhaps I've said more than I should, but we both want you to be as at ease as possible. We know you'll be comfortable with us once you meet us. We are so grateful to Carl and Alice who help screen possible playmates for us. That's why we have no problem inviting you to our home. Ned gets quite anxious in hotel rooms. We can hardly wait until next month. I am so looking forward to playing with each of you. I've been moist pretty much ever since I saw your pics. I love slow sensuous play with a woman. With a man, I like a little more athleticism. What do you two like? I'm sure we'll come up with things to satisfy all of us. Ned often enjoys playing choreographer. Hope that won't be a problem. If it is, he'll stop. Not to worry. I seem to be perseverating so I'll sign off for now. Maybe I'm the anxious one. Lol Hugs, Elizabeth

He shook his head. His eyes twinkled when he stood. He bent down and kissed her soundly.

Jennifer yielded. She’d never grow tired of the way his lips curved over hers.

Breaking their kiss, Brett said, “Don't want them to think we're just sitting here on pins and needles waiting to hear from them.” He kissed the top of her head. “I thought Pam had a super idea. Why don't we go to bed and imagine what it will be like snuggling with them?”

“That's a wonderful plan,” Jennifer muttered, kissing his chin while dragging his hand to her crotch.

“Jesus, your jeans are wet.”

“That's right,” she chuckled. “My panties are soaked. Hurry, let's go play.”

“We haven't even met Insatiable69—yet just thinking about them makes us so hot we can hardly keep our hands off each other.”

“Welcome to swinging,” Jennifer chortled, leading Brett by the hand, hurrying toward their bedroom. “Isn't this fun?”

* * * *

Brett grinned at his wife propped up on the bed beside him. She was teasing her left breast with the tip of a rabbit vibrator while he grazed her tummy with a finger massager. Already Jennifer seemed drifting in and out of some sort of erotic haze, probably anticipating the coming waves. He'd never tire of watching her nurse her orgasms to full bloom.

“A little lower,” she whispered. “Not my clit. Just beside it. Right there. Oh my. I'm humming all over. Don't move.”

He watched her tug on a nipple and cradle the rabbit between her breasts. Her mews made his cock throb. With his free hand, he encircled his shaft and skimmed it lightly as Jennifer began to ascend that wall he'd witnessed her climb so many times before.

Her lips thinned. She nodded. She broke into a broad smile. “Yes.” Lurching forward, she grabbed her knees and held on. 

"Most every time I try to fall asleep I think of you with another woman." Donna slanted a finger across Jen's lips. "Please, I have to tell you. I admit I'm so jealous. I've dreamed about us together before. I hadn't had that dream for years until recently. Then I'd wake up feeling so guilty I didn't know if I could face you. Now I wake up soaking wet, certain we've been making love for hours and that you left before I could awaken fully."

"But…"

Donna's finger slipped into Jen's open mouth.

Was it reflex, instinct or lust? With her eyelids closed, Jen didn't spend much time trying to explain why she was suddenly sucking Donna's finger deeper into her mouth.

"That feels so good," Donna cooed.

Jen heard Donna scooting closer. She kept her eyes closed hoping not to frighten or encourage her friend. She felt Donna's warm breath on her cheek. And then her best friend's lips brushed against the corner of Jen's mouth.

Jack leaned over to whisper in Ruth’s ear. His warm breath caused her heart to skip a beat. "Your pleasure is our mission."

Ruth clasped his hand, which had begun crawling up her thigh.

"A little now," he teased, mocking her, "might tide you over until later."

She looked sharply at him. Later? His eyes were laughing.

A low moan from her right caused her to glance toward Desiree. Her lap was covered with a nondescript lap robe, but the telltale signs of the blanket moving made it clear that Brad, who leaned into Desiree, was bringing her off—apparently expertly. After Desire covered her mouth and her eyes rounded in delight, Ruth turned back to Jack.

"Why do you suppose they provide lap robes?" he asked. "It's not all that cold in here. You're sitting on one, if you think you might be a little chilly."

Ruth chewed on her bottom lip and watched Barb who was perched on the stage, palming her pussy. Ruth pulled the lap robe out from under her. Jack helped her spread it across her lap.

Without saying another word, Jack settled back in his chair, remaining focused on Barb's stage antics. The two of them might as well be sitting at the movies eating popcorn, except for the fact that his right hand was palming her pussy.

"You really did come for her."

"I never fake coming," Ruth huffed between clenched teeth as he slipped a finger between her folds, seeking entry. She shifted slightly and his long finger easily bore into her.

They sat for a moment as if gathering their thoughts. Ruth blinked, hoping there were no undercover cops about. They might not be overtly obvious, but anybody watching closely knew what was happening beneath the lap robe.

Jack did all the work. She didn't have to move at all. He worked his finger probing from side to side and then rhythmically in and out of her. Soon the butt of his palm grazed her clit and she gave up watching Barb or thinking about who might stop them. And then she was again sliding over the top. She whimpered softly as he maintained a steady, languid pace, turning her to soft butter. They both seemed satisfied with her coming slow and easy. Her eyes blinked wide open and then quickly shut. Perhaps they were saving something for later.

After giving her sufficient time to recover, Jack eased out of her and sniffed his finger. "Nothing better than the scent of a woman," he said grinning at her. She watched him suck his finger into his mouth. "Other than the taste of a woman."

He glanced back toward the stage. "Show’s just about over. Barb will go backstage and dress. It won't take long for her to join you two."

Jack stood and Brad rose from his seat. "We'll see you ladies a little later. We've got several things to do to close up here."

Ruth watched the men strut away from them.

"I'll bet," Desiree whispered, "they're the bouncers at this place—at least when Barbie is working."

Ruth nodded her agreement. "Looks like. No wonder they weren't too worried about being noticed."

"They seemed like nice enough guys," Desiree said dreamily. "I did feel a little sorry for leaving Sampson out. Do you suppose Barbie takes on the three of them at once?"

"Why not? Nothing Barbie does would surprise me anymore."

"Do you think we're safe with her?"

"Of course we are. She's not going to harm us. We might be in for a long weekend," Ruth flashed an eyebrow, "but I don't think we have to be afraid of her." She glanced in the direction of the three men. "Or anyone else."

Brett saw the women's gazes meet in the mirror.

"I need to change my blouse before we go out," Pam announced. Without waiting for a response, Pam undid the top button. She paused, perhaps waiting for a protest from Jen. Seeing and hearing none, Pam proceeded to undo each button and shrug out of the blouse. Bare to the waist, she remained behind Jen, making no move to retrieve a replacement blouse.

Brett could see Jen nervously wet her lips. Her eyes had widened as she took in Pam's reflection.

"You like?" Pam murmured, cupping a breast.

Brett's breathing stopped as he watched Jen turn her head and flick her tongue out at the proffered breast.

"Nice, very nice." Pam smiled toward her husband sitting next to Brett. "Don't worry. We won't tarry. Sometimes things simply happen."

"Right," Rick groused. "Just don't get too carried away."

Pam bent over and nibbled on Jen's ear. "Do you truly need that bra? It really is a distraction."

Jen shook her head and stood. She reached for a button on her blouse.

"Let me," Pam said.

Brett watched Pam quickly and efficiently undo Jen's blouse. The front-clasped bra was next and then his wife's boobs sprang forth. They were at least a size larger than Pam's and they sagged a bit more, but they were gorgeous and he didn't feel a twinge of jealously when Pam dipped her head to suckle one.

Jen rose on her toes and held Pam tight. She rocked back and forth. Her jaw fell slack. One of Pam's hands disappeared under Jen's skirt.

Brett glanced quickly at Rick who had somehow freed his cock and was lightly skimming it as the dance between the women continued. Quickly, Brett did the same.

"Good God," Jen whimpered. "I'm going to come." She looked wildly about until her gaze settled on him.

He wasn't positive she could see anything through her orgasmic haze. It didn't matter. She knew he was there watching. "Go for it, Jen."

"Ride the wave, girl," Rick called out. "She's almost there, Pam."

 "Oh hell," Jen wailed. She thrust against Pam and then buckled.

Todd thrust deep, stilled, and waited. Eric knew from experience that Natalie was squeezing down on him hard and then she erupted. She called out to the heavens. Her hot breath scalded his balls. Todd grinned triumphantly at the mirror and Susan blew her husband’s reflection a kiss.

The three of them waited for Natalie. When she stirred, Eric began once again easing in and out of Susan, who had shown more patience than he’d expected.

“Bombastic, Natalie,” Susan said. “That must’ve been worth the wait. Looked like you’re enjoying my husband’s cock. And like a good boy, he didn’t come. Todd’s not short on patience.”

“He’s super,” came the hushed response along with a half-smothered giggle. Eric felt her lips brush his balls. “You seem to be faring quite well with your brother-in-law.”

“Certainly am,” Susan grunted as he gave her an extra strong stroke. “Both of our men are quite skilled at satisfying a woman.”

“The women aren’t bad either, right, bro?”

Eric nodded at his brother’s reflection and slowed his pace to match that of Todd, who was beginning again to inch out of Natalie and slowly glide back in. He gasped when Susan clamped her vagina tighter around him. Much more of that and he was done. “Don’t know about anyone else, but I’m about ready to pop.”

“Wait!” Susan declared, “I want you to come in my ass.”

“Excellent idea,” Eric said, holding himself in check and leaning over to nip at Susan’s shoulder blade.

“How about you?” Todd asked Natalie.

 “No,” she said quickly, “I’ll pass on that. I want you to finish where you are.”

“Good enough,” Todd replied. “I’m quite content where I am. We’ll wait for Eric and Susan.”

Eric smiled to himself. So was she saving her ass for him? Certainly someone as experienced as Natalie must enjoy anal play, but he hadn’t really explored that with her yet. There was so much more for them to try. He pulled out of Susan and clutched a butt cheek in each hand. Her anus puckered—just in case he might lose his way.

“You, Natalie,” Susan chortled, “may want to help him find the right spot.”

Eric closed his eyes as Natalie’s fingers curled around his straining cock. Susan had had a super idea for including Natalie. He couldn’t determine whose breathing had turned more ragged, his or Natalie’s, as she guided the tip of his cock until it found the exposed dark target. He eased in fractionally and Susan expanded to accept him.

“Wow,” Natalie gasped. “Amazing. His head disappeared.”

“Wait,” Susan whimpered. “I’m opening, but give me a moment. He’s going to fill my ass, Natalie. And I’m enjoying this immensely. I hope you are.”

“Stunning,” Natalie responded, “and your pussy is so wide open.”

“Then you might want to push a couple fingers in so she doesn’t feel abandoned.” Susan chuckled. “You may be surprised by what you find. Okay, big guy. I’m ready for you. Slowly. Bring him home.”

He nodded at the mirror as Susan’s mouth curved into a smile. They both knew she could’ve taken all of him before now, but she had Natalie where she wanted her. He eased on in. His groans matched those of Natalie’s as his cock nestled into Susan’s ass and pressed against Natalie’s two fingers buried in Susan’s vagina.

“Now,” he grunted to his brother.

They moved in unison with him fucking his brother’s wife’s ass and his brother fucking his lover’s pussy. The wails of both women soon filled the small alcove.

Eric tried to hold back, but was failing miserably. He didn’t know if it was Susan’s tight channel or Natalie’s fingers drawing him in deeper that forced him across a hidden precipice, but his thighs burned and his toes curled as he hurtled faster in and out the women’s clutches.

“Oh hell!” he shouted. “I’m over the top.”

Laughing, Todd exclaimed, “Me, too!”

"Take me deeper, babe!"

On her hands and knees between her boyfriend’s legs, Joy Danser worked her jaw muscles until her mouth and throat surrounded his entire cock.

"Better," Ted Meeks groaned. He lay spread eagled beneath her on their bed. "Smooth and steady. Let’s see how long you can manage."

Joy wanted to snicker. Even after two years of living together, his need to make sex a challenge annoyed her. She’d outlast Ted. She always did. Relaxing her muscles, she bobbed slowly up and down his shaft. It would only take a sudden shift in pace or a deft twist of the hand around the base of his cock and he’d be spurting down her throat in a flash. Or if she squeezed his balls just right. Or, a surefire way of making him come would be slipping her middle finger in his ass. She could win this challenge whenever she chose to.

She suctioned slowly up his shaft until she only held its fleshy crown in her mouth. Ted’s hands curled around her shoulders as if he feared she might leave him. Chuckling around his cock she drifted back down its length until her lips again smacked against his loins.

Inching her way back up, she felt his hand slip between her legs and begin to palm her pussy. She blinked her eyes open wildly. All ten of Ted’s fingernails dug into her shoulders. What the hell? Who the hell? She started to rear up.

A large hand pressed against her back. "Easy, Danser. It’s just me, Santa. You wanted to believe," a deep male voice chortled. "So, here I am."

The words reverberated in her head. They hadn’t been spoken aloud. She was sure of that. Santa! Damn, her job had finally gotten to her. She was going crazy. She swore she felt soft whiskers caressing her lower back and then her rump. She supervised the eight temporary Santas at the mall as part of her assistant manager position. Yes, she’d been envious of how easily the boys and girls believed and marveled when the Santas went out of their way to listen to them and please them. She’d only hired the best. Each had to have an authentic beard. It could be dyed white, but it had to be real.

"My beard is authentic. You must feel that. Mustache, too."

"Oh my. You can read my thoughts." His lips and mustache traced the contour of her rump. She didn’t balk when he grazed the insides of her thighs. She shifted her knees further apart.

"That’s right. Open for me. You may want to remember Ted now and then, or even he may begin to wonder what’s happening to you."

Ted! Joy hurriedly moved up and down her boyfriend’s shaft before slowing her pace, trying to collect her wits while remaining keenly aware of the hands and lips on her butt.

"Good," came the voice in her head. "Wouldn’t want to explain to him what you’re really doing--playing with Santa." A tongue slid along the crevice of her butt cheeks. "Have you ever played with two cocks before?"

Sunny beamed a smile awaiting her answer. "I'd like to feel your heat, if I may. It's pouring out of you."

"You may." Sheila wasn't certain she'd actually spoken aloud, but she watched Sunny's dark palm curve over her vulva. Sunny didn't move her fingers. Reflexively, Sheila tilted her pelvis, expecting, waiting, wanting penetration, but Sunny seemed satisfied cradling her heat.

"She's hot!" Sunny exclaimed, then turned to David. "Hotter than me?"

David ignored Sheila's sharp intake of breath. "Yes."

Sheila knew her eyes must've turned the size of quarters as she stared at the three persons hovering over her. Slowly, it began to dawn on her that the familiarity she'd sensed between them had not been her imagination. They were lovers. The three of them. Or at least they had been.

"Don't rush her," Marlin said sharply to his wife. "She's not open enough. Not yet."

Alice re-corked a bottle and looked quickly toward the couch where Donna had suddenly screeched. “Oops. Looks like she took young Fletcher a little too far.”

“Finish him,” Fletcher called out, thrashing about.

Donna looked wildly around. “Sorry.” If she expected chastisement, none came.

“I’ll help,” Linda said, scooting nearer. While holding on to Ryan’s cock, she leaned over to bob up and down on Fletcher.

“Oh yeah,” he moaned. His hips lurched and flailed as he released.

Linda backed quickly off him, griping his cock tight at its base. Fletcher turned deep red. “He’s got plenty left for you, Donna. It’s okay. He’ll bounce back. He’s young.”

Wordlessly, Donna nodded and took Fletcher back into her mouth. This time, she didn’t back off until Fletcher stopped pumping.

“You’re one hell of a cocksucker,” Fletcher groaned, hugging her tight. “Never, never apologize for that.”

“You have a little left on the corner of your mouth.” Linda pointed out. “No, let me get it.”

Alice’s fingers dipped into Brett’s boxers and curled around his cock as they watched Linda flick her tongue out to capture a thin trail of Fletcher’s come from Donna’s chin. Gently, Linda pushed Donna backward until she lay on the floor. Their kiss began softly, but quickly moved to a higher intensity accompanied with moans of anticipation. While Donna still wore her mesh top, thigh-highs and heels, the skirt and v-string had long disappeared. Clearly eager to get better acquainted with her new playmate, Linda wasted little time before palming Donna’s glistening pussy. Donna emitted a delighted yelp and tilted her pelvic bone as Linda’s finger sought and gained entry.

“Hope Jen doesn’t mind that the ladies are taking the game into their own hands, but this has been a moment in the making since those two first saw each other. I’m a little surprised it’s taken this long for them to hook up.”

Nate awoke to find himself alone with Gina. The others had taken themselves off while he slept, turning off the TV and lowering the lights on their way out. The fire was ablaze but he could still smell the encroaching night air. It was damp and somehow sweeter than during the day.

Above him, Gina was breathing deeply, her chest rising and falling in time with each breath. With her eyes closed she seemed more defenceless, and he couldn’t help but admire the fact she’d actually been calm enough to fall asleep with a werewolf in her lap.

He stirred, nudging her gently, but otherwise remained curled peaceably over her legs. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her. Her breathing hitched, her eyelids fluttered, then she was staring down on him, remaining perfectly still other than her eyes which had widened considerably as she remembered what was apparently asleep on her lap.

Rather than leave her anticipating the worst for too long, Nate stretched broadly, his limbs extended to their fullest as he eased out the kinks from sleeping curled up in a ball. She was sitting rigidly still. Whatever she was thinking, she was obviously trying very hard not to give him any excuse to get upset with her.

He sat up, his bottom heavy on her lap, hind legs straddling her knees, and pushed himself upright until he could easily rest his front paws on her shoulders. He heard her hastily smothered gasp, but ignored it and pushed his nose onto hers. He grinned as she shuddered – there was something truly awful about having a cold, wet nose jammed in your face – and leant back slightly so she could see his doggy smile for herself. Tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, jaw relaxed, he hoped she was seeing him as nothing other than a big gangly dog with a rotten sense of humor.

She rewarded him with a crinkle at the side of her mouth. It was tiny, but unmistakable, and she’d even relaxed a little. He pressed the advantage, pushing lightly against her shoulders until she was forced to lean back against the sofa, trapped between it and him. He waited, half expecting her to panic at her even more vulnerable position.

“Get out of here you rotten great beast!” She surprised him, freeing one of her hands and swatting ineffectually. When that didn’t work she tried pushing his chin away instead. “You’re slobbering all over me.”

Nate leant closer and licked her face, a long sloppy swipe of his tongue that reached from her chin to her eyebrows. Then he sat up again, watching her reaction.

It was all he could do not to laugh at her horrified expression as his saliva dribbled down her chin and ran down the front of her shirt to pool between her breasts.

“Yugh!” She swatted some more, laughing this time. “Naughty wolf!”

Naughty wolf?

Lily Regis could not get enough of her own beauty.

Justin Prince watched her face, a perfect oval, ivory, skin as smooth as if a girl of twenty, only the shadow of a line here and there to show the passage of years.

And even those lines only graced the perfection of her features, eyes wide and blue as mountain skies, the delicate turn of her nose and lips that framed a mouth inviting ecstasy and ruin. Lily's face hung in the mirror and reflected a hundred times in the faceted walls and ceilings of her boudoir.

Those perfect, crimson lips parted in a wild scream as Justin Prince thrust deep inside her. He mounted her from behind, his finger on her clit acted like the trigger of love's own pistol.

Lily's scream echoed and danced endlessly in the glass.

Justin thought of a white bird in a cage of reflective crystal, cascading around the walls and across a shining, depthless ceiling. She closed her eyes and moved with him, clenching her pussy to milk the last of his restraint, undeniable in the sweet pull and pulse. He clutched her breast and came, long and wet and deep inside the cunt of the most powerful woman in Colorado.

Fucking her was the kind of thing a man might lose his license over, Justin thought, or at least the contract with her husband, if old man Regis wasn't way past caring.

"I'm gaining her confidence," Justin told himself, even while he remembered that lying to a liar is even harder when you're lying to yourself.

His spent dick shrank out of her and he gave her clit a last touch then stroked the ivory curve of her hip with deferential tenderness. She made a noise like a panther and collapsed onto the bed. The pale paradise of her back and bottom mesmerized him like a land where a man might live forever, a white island in the sea of red silk sheets.

Justin straddled her, his cock hanging in the cleft of her butt and she shifted beneath him, propping herself on her arms, staring into the depthless silver mirror beside the bed. He reached down between her legs and massaged the open lips of her cunt, smearing her, rousing her clit to slow stiffness.

Lily ground against his hand and tightened her ass around his lengthening cock. She spoke, but so softly he hardly heard her.

Then he realized she had not been talking to him at all.

"Tell me," she whispered. "Am I still the most beautiful woman in the world?"

“I won’t hurt you,” he said in a husky whisper.

“Is that—are you padded there?” Gloria pointed at his crotch.

“Does this look like I’m packing?” He ran his zipper down and a huge cock popped out.

She edged away on the blanket, but she was fascinated by the sight of his erection bobbing and jerking in front of his body. A million fractured thoughts ran through her brain and most of them frightened her. She was going to be raped. He might want to kill her.

She looked up at the Harris brothers. "Why don't you and Neal come on down here, Bob? I think you guys might be the best ones for Livie to start things rolling with! She can work her way up to Nick and then Terry, you know?"

Bob and Neal Harris obviously had no problem with being the first ones to sample cute little Olivia's charms. They were on the floor in an instant, looking at Judy for direction.

"Just kneel here, by her head, Bob," Judy whispered. "Neal, why don't you get in between our young cutie's long, beautiful legs and mount up! She plenty wet already!"

Livie was shivering with nervousness and excitement beneath Judy's stroking fingers as the guys quickly moved into place. Judy kissed her on the lips and then gently turned Livie's pretty face toward Bob Harris' big, hard dick.

"Just give it a little licking first, sweetie," Judy urged her. "And then open those little lips up and give him a nice suck, okay?

Before Olivia could answer, Judy bent low over the girl's aroused nipples and kissed both of them. Livie moaned and pushed her chest upward as Judy began to suck the left one hungrily and Neal Harris started rubbing his engorged cockhead all over Olivia's pussy mouth, smearing it thoroughly with her hot oil!

"Unnnggghhh! Oh, Ohhhhhhhhhh!" Livie moaned as her breast jerked under Judy's expert sucking and Neal's rock-like prickhead massaged her swollen clitty!

"Jesus, what a sweet little piece!" Neal sighed, pushing forward with his hips, the tip of his cock nudging through Livie's tight little cunny mouth and disappearing down inside! "God, her pussy is so hot and tight, Judy|!"

Livie moaned even louder as she felt herself being penetrated in front of all these people! She opened her mouth to sigh again and was instantly greeted by Bob's fat cockhead sliding in between her moist lips!

Olivia Benson emitted a tiny mewl of lust and gave in to the raging sensations Judy's mouth was causing on her sensitive tits and Neal's prick was stirring within her pierced cunny! She worked her hips against Neal, forcing another two or three inches of stiff cock into her overflowing slit and hunched her chest up off the carpet, pushing almost all of her smallish mound into Judy's sucking lips!

"Oh, man! She's tonguin' my dick like crazy now!" Bob gasped, feeding another inch into the sucking, licking redhead's mouth!

"Give it to her, Bobby!" Terry said eagerly. "It looks to me like that little filly is a gal after my own heart! She don't mind suckin' a little cock when the occasion calls for it!"

Bob seemed to agree. He reached down and tilted Livie's face up a little more and began fucking his cock in and out of it as if it were a second pussy!

 But before she could even start to act upon that thought, she was amazed to find her hands entwined in his shaggy, brownish-blond locks, drawing him in tighter as their tongues continued their hot, thrusting duel. Her fingers seemed to have moved up there on their own, and her breath was becoming shorter and harder to catch by the second.

He released her face and threw his arms around her, breaking off the kiss and pulling her tightly into his embrace. She gasped as she felt her nipples, suddenly erect and prominent as a pair of pencil erasers, poking out against the soft fabric of her sports bra and rubbing against his muscular chest.

On the edge of panic, she resolved once more to tell him no, that this was enough. She was going to call that cab and go home like a good girl, right now, before anything more happened. She really was!

But, as she opened her mouth to tell him that, Nick picked that very moment to once again press his open mouth over hers. And then his tongue was twirling all around hers once more, and she was having trouble breathing again. Her panties suddenly felt incredibly wet, his fingers were brushing against the eyehooks holding her sports bra closed, and then, before she could react, it was open!

“Ummm!” she protested weakly.

But it really was too late now, she realized, shocked at her own reaction.

Because when he unlocked her hands from around his neck and gently pushed them down into her lap so that he could completely skim off her bra, she made no protest at all; no move to stop him. As he bent forward and repositioned her hands back around his neck, she not only left them there, she actually found herself pulling him softly to her, urging his lips down onto her bare nipples, craving the feel of his hot, wet tongue on her sensitive pink points.

“God! You have the most perfect breasts!” he whispered, his tongue tip caressing just the very tip of her left nipple in a teasing, maddeningly light way that sent a shiver of pure lust pulsing from her breast straight down to her untouched clit.

“Oh, yes! Oh, God, you’re driving me crazy!” she whispered back, again amazed at the intensity, the speed of her own arousal.

She wasn’t ever like this! She rarely spoke during sex with David! She barely made any sound at all most nights when they made love! What was happening to her? Was it Nick? Was it his incredible good looks, his ultra-confident manner? Or was it simply the forbidden thrill she was experiencing from this unplanned tryst with such a gorgeous stranger?

He chuckled softly, his enjoyment of her hot response readily apparent in his playful blue eyes. He seemed to be in no hurry.

Sliding off the couch, he knelt in front of her. He pulled her toward him a little more so that his head was now level with her bare breasts.

 His tongue moved to her right nipple and grazed it lightly; as he had the left, his right hand moving up to cup and gently squeeze her whole left orb while he teased her right.

“Oh, please,” She moaned aloud once more. “Please, suck my nipples! Suck them hard!”

Twisting her body on the couch, she attempted to push her burning nipple past her lover’s teasing tongue and into his lips. She was on fire with shame at her sudden wanton behavior with a total stranger, and yet she couldn’t find the will to escape the incredible heat this man ignited in her. It struck her that she had waited her entire twenty-six years to feel this level of white-hot need and, now that she did, she wasn’t going to be denied.

“My…my…tits!” she heard herself demand, using a word she never used. “Suck my hot tits!”

“Oh, I will. I’ll suck ‘em until you scream for mercy, honey,” he assured her, his voice husky with need.

“But a pair of beauties like these…a body like yours…” He shook his head admiringly, a leer stealing over his handsome face. “I need to take my time. I need to eat you up slowly…to savor you like a gourmet meal.”

He winked at her and lapped at her throbbing right nipple briefly before continuing. “I need to make you beg for it, then make you come so hard you pass out from the pleasure!”

Her clit throbbed at the very thought of that. Oh, yes! Oh, please, dear God, yes! Let him do all of THAT to me, please!

His eyes never leaving hers, the confident man released his hold on her breast and shoved his hand and arm under her legs on the couch. He slid his left arm behind her, cradling her unresisting body into his chest as he got to his feet. He lifted her easily and carried her into the bedroom in a few quick strides, gently depositing her crosswise at the foot of his enormous bed

“Now, little Miss Judy,” he whispered, dropping once more to his knees on the soft carpet and leaning over her at the end of the bed. “Let’s just see what we can do about that orgasm I promised you.”

Down, down she goes, fingers probing. I know I’m gushing, drenched. I’m fat. She seems not to notice, finds my clitoris and presses gently. I am ready to erupt from my skin.

Her fingers wrap around my butt, move around like a white eel, squeeze. I groan, groan again, I feel her lips on mine, her warm breath. Her skin is like satin, so thin, barely wrapped around her muscles and bones. I have never felt anything so beautiful in my life.

Kisses again. Her breathing is swelling. One more kiss, then an adjustment to now steaming water, throwing steam out, beading on her white skin. She turns, smiles at me and curls a finger to my eyes. I obey. I’d lose twenty pounds if she asked me to and would have my lips sewn together if that would make her happy. I’d do anything, everything, just to receive one more kiss, one more touch, one more pungent gasp of breath cruising from those lips, warming my neck, burning my soul as they do.

Shower adjustments aim the water tendrils away as she sets me down. Then, like a prank-filled kid, sprays me, head to un-pedicured toes. Now, water and sex bring giggles from her, then me. Then she is kneeling before me—soap, razor, smiles, mischief in her eyes. I can’t seem to breath, and my eyes simply cannot blink as she soaps me, leans in, kisses me, mumbles something. I’m fair, like her anyways, so she shaves every hair from my cunt like she owns it, which she does.

Bath time doesn’t seem to be on her mind, so she stands and I gasp seeing the space between her thighs. She’s one of those girls, so thin nothing touches. I can see every vein pushing against her white skin. I almost orgasm just peeking from her toe to her face, nothing so marvelous have I seen before.

Adjusting the spray, she kneels before me, green bottle eyes just inches away, pouting, white teeth biting those lips, pink tongue edged and pulsing as she wraps her fingers around the back of my head, pulls me in and lights a kiss along my lips. Tongue on tongue, lips on lips, gentle, probing, breathing increasing. She is not rough. There are girls like that. Everything about her is so miniature—hands, fingers, tongue, body. Except her eyes and so-full lips. They’re perfect. The kisses go on and on, as do her fingers along my spine and rump.

My breasts are large, one of the good things left from the younger me. She has none almost. As they meet, press bodies against bodies, and then, as if she knows, she moves away, not far, takes a breast and touches it sweetly. I see her body shudder as she takes a nipple between her lips, presses, then closes her eyes and grips it nice with her teeth. My body trembles as a semi-orgasm ripples through it.

We’re in suspended animation for some moments, then she breaks away, kisses me again, and with fingers like kite tails, she turns me. I’m on my fat hands and knees. I feel my belly, the folds creasing. I’m never comfortable with my body, but she is. I love her for that, whoever the fuck she is.

I’ve had rough sex before and liked the carnal stages of it, but she is different. She is slow, gentle, almost sweet and kind. Now I feel her soaped hands washing my back, my butt, my anus, a single finger. I begin to shake and moan. She moans. I have never been so clean since a child when my mother bathed me in our tub. Then I feel pressure, her fingers are pressed against the opening of my vagina.

I gulp, wheeze, my back arches as it tingles in pleasure. She pushes her fingers into me. To the knuckles. “Oh my God,” I whisper, glad there is water, mine and the shower everywhere, masking my orgasm as I bow my chin to my collarbones, almost weeping from her touch.

Time moves right along as she uses her lips, tongue and fingers on me. Deep, not so deep and I orgasm. Then, at its epicenter, she simply slides her tiny fist inside of me and it is so gentle. I begin to dream as I feel it deep, struck as deep as it might ever go. I orgasm again, tears and unfamiliar sounds spilling from my throat and past my vibrato lips.

Releasing me, she pulls her fist from my cunt, turns me and, seeing that I am weeping, crawls upon my knees, straddles me, wraps her legs around my waist, then her hands around my head as my arms wrap around her body. Kisses, lips, tongues again. Steam and water blast everywhere around us. Her tongue plunges deep into my mouth, seeking, I presume, wanting, I hope, as my tongue mates with hers and we kiss for what in my mind is forever, though that is only my own way of seeing this remarkable moment.

Totally in charge, she morphs, breaks away and stands. I gasp again, for the whiteness of her body almost hurts my eyes as she extends tendril fingers to me, which I take as she helps me struggle to my feet, holds me so I do not collapse, then waits. She is a patient Queen Bitch, so caring I do not know if I could ever be with a callous man again. Their skin, from this moment on, would always feel as sandpaper and hurt silhouetted against the memory of her skin, my skin for a moment, this I know.

She leads me naked from the shower and there it looms, the bedroom, which she leads me into. I am, for the moment, a Goddess, a selected pleasure prize for a Queen so elegant, so mesmerizing and sexual I still don’t believe any of it is real. On the bed now, she nears, sits, leans and kisses me. Yes it is real. So very fucking real.

She drove ninety miles an hour, around a winding road that followed a river until she reached a lake where her dad had a cottage. She loved the cottage that he called The Lodge. She let herself in with the key and then made a cup of coffee. Finally, she sat out on the high deck overlooking the lake. The sun had set and a full moon rode high in the sky.

She had loved Lennie, once. As a matter of fact, he’d been the first to love her, cover her body with kisses. Yet, deep inside, he didn’t really love her. It was a revelation today, seeing him for what he was—a cringing coward. He would have been a good manager for her. She felt close to tears.

“Damn,” she said. “Damn! Damn! Damn!” Then her chin came out stubbornly. She would find a way, a life that would satisfy her without him. She was vaguely aware of that other life, a motel in Calgary and a little guy called Absalom Jones she had just met. Perhaps keeping her father happy, on her side, would be part of it. For, after all, he said he’d pay her, pay her well to stay home. She would also have leeway. He wouldn’t expect her to be there every minute and he was often in Africa for months. She could always slip away to The Lodge for a week or two. Or to her friend, Maxine’s. Yes, Maxie might be useful, too.

The next day, as she pulled up to the Reynolds’ mansion that looked out over the Saskatchewan River valley in Edmonton, Rena realized she found a way. The hurt of long ago, the slap across the face was still there like a hard core within, yet like an oyster, she coated it with diamonds instead of pearls. She knew of another way she could replace concert tours. It was exciting, dangerous, but challenging. Last month, she had just begun that other life at a motel called The Flame, 200 miles south, in Calgary, far enough from home that she could change from Rena to Lexi, her alter-ego, easily and learn a new life. She shivered with delight just thinking about Absalom Jones who owned The Flame and what a funny, nice little guy he was.

As for Lennie? She never thought of him again. He was gone from her life.

Dirk's head snapped up, when he heard his wife make this offer. Is she serious about showing her pussy to Joe and Melissa? Is she really just going to drop her pants right here in the middle of the living room?

Yes, she really is.

Watching the tight jeans and silky panties slide down over the firm, roundness of her ass, he felt a slight stirring in his groin. He watched as she spread her legs as much as the jeans resting on her thighs allowed and pushed her hips forward to show Melissa her pussy. His imagination ran wild as he imagined what Melissa and Joe saw right now, pink lips, a moist vagina probably dripping with her juices…

Flicking his gaze away from his wife's ass to Joe's face, he felt his cock jump and begin to strain against the confining crotch of his jeans. Joe's gaze had wandered to the patch of hair that Dirk knew so well, on her clit cheekily poking out from between the shaven lips for the briefest moment before turning his head to stare at the dead screen of the TV. God, I am so fucking turned

on by the fact that another man just checked out my wife's snatch, I know what he's seeing… I know how sexy she is… I want to bend her over right here and now and give her the fuck of her life.

He actually felt disappointed when she pulled her panties and jeans back up.

The leatherman stared in fierce, almost laughing invitation. A motorcycle jacket hung over a Salvation Army-issue chair. Black engineer boots were aligned at the foot of the cot. Something about him hinted of the Orient, but any feature taken alone was clearly Caucasian. Hubert was deeply stirred, as though something inevitable and possibly dangerous was about to happen. Mustering the jaunty attitude he'd learned from sailors, he steadied himself against the doorjamb.

"Excuse me. Have you the time?"

The man glanced at his watch. "Close to eight. Pacific Standard Time." An arrogant grin replaced the frown on his steely, sculpted features. Hard cruising usually didn't start until later, after ten.

"Thanks. May I come in?" Hubert asked with uncustomary boldness.

"You don't have to be so formal. Haul your butt in here." Installed on the throne of the cot, the stranger made no attempt to defer to his guest. "Aren't you going to shut the door? We can't have the whole world looking in." He gave the mattress a crude slap.

Hubert closed the door and then awkwardly boarded the allotted space. The tough leatherman had a patch of hair on his chest and a muscular, rippled stomach. A dark mane or love trail ran from his navel to the pubic area, just visible above unbuttoned Levi's. Hubert's pant leg brushed rough denim. Something like an electric current passed between them. Neither made a move.

"I'm Ivan."

The name helped explain the Oriental-Tartar aura. "Pleased to meet you. I'm Hubert. Hubey if you prefer. I think my parents wanted a priest or monk. I got a stuffy name to counter the Irish," he added in hopeful good humor.

The leatherman didn't bother to shake hands. Without warning, he grabbed Hubert's calf so tightly it smarted. "The world doesn't need more priests. That goes for monks. Pull down your pants."

"Right now?"

"You heard me. Not next year. On the double."

On the double. The Army years surged to mind. The Army had taught Hubert to adapt to austere, often-embarrassing situations. Reflexively, he stood beside the cot, unlaced his cordovan oxfords and laid his signature tweed coat over the chair seat below the motorcycle jacket. His Ivy League shirt he placed on the silver radiator, which suggested the vertebrae of some prehistoric reptile, below a curtainless window. A square black eye stared in silent judgment. Woodenly, he pulled down his trousers. These he lay across the small desk provided for the meager clerical needs of the down and out.

Down to just jockey shorts, he climbed back onto the cot. Ivan had, also, shed his Levi's. They lay in a compact military pile against the wall. Hubert took it as a veiled compliment. He'd heard that leather tops remained fully or mostly dressed while their slaves or boys cowered in naked vulnerability like inmates in a concentration camp. Their bare legs touched from hip to knee, reactivating the electric current. Taut labored breathing.

"Peel off those undershorts."

Hesitantly, Hubert removed the last protection of a puritan past. Ivan had an instant hard on. A sword-like stiffness, rather than a large endowment, was his chief calling card. He gripped Hubert by the neck, forced his mouth onto the arrow-like head and held him rigidly in place. Gasping for breath, Hubert finally had to pull free. Being used solely for someone else's pleasure sparked resentment. He was trained to take charge of a classroom. Such aggressive, humiliating behavior was more than he bargained for.

Ivan's eyes glinted with sadistic cunning. The buddy-buddy phase was over. Something was radically wrong.

Yet, a hidden part of Hubert refused to bolt for the door. The Army had taught him to stand his ground, just as teacher training instilled a dogged sense of follow through.

Ivan lurched onto his knees and pinched Hubert's bare nipples. He applied steadily increasing pressure with thumbs and forefingers.

"Oh, that hurts! Stop, please."

"I love it," Ivan said in a transport of brutal delight.

Hubert came close to wrenching loose, but something held him there, taking it. Just when he thought he could endure no more, the torture ceased, followed by a sharp slap on the face. Hubert saw wildly darting stars. He throttled a surge of anger. Where is my self-respect? Why don't I fight back? Was it punishment or self-disgust for shunting aside the lab reports?

"You'll do what I tell you," Ivan hissed in a low voice so no one in the hall could overhear.

His taste for violence shocked to the same degree that it intrigued. Hubert hadn't dreamed such kinkiness went on behind the walls of a Christian institution. Next to this, stalking sailors in back alleys and restrooms was child's play.

"Er, okay."

"What kind of piss-poor answer is that?"

"Yes Sir," he corrected himself.

"That's more like it." Excited by the rough repartee, Ivan jumped off the creaking cot. He crouched beside his victim like a gladiator making ready. "Get up on hands and knees."

With a rush of fright, Hubert squirmed by degrees into the required position. He hadn't considered himself a candidate for losing his virginity in regard to rear-end assault. He'd wondered how bad it would hurt, but that was all. "No one ever did that before. Please go easy."

"We do things my way."

"Er, y-yessir."

A rushing sound as Ivan donned the leather jacket. He set a police cap at an anonymous angle over his brow, pulled on his boots, buckled the straps. Cap, jacket, boots--all leather. He took a strategically placed jar of Vaseline from a dresser drawer. He lubed himself, then his victim, perched in a humiliating position, half-falling off the cot.

Hubert received a sharp slap on the rear. Head jammed against the mattress with blood rushing to his temples, he beheld what appeared a blurred, upside-down warrior poised for attack.

James stared at the time display in the corner of his computer screen. Ten more minutes until he would meet Alicia for their run. Ten long minutes. He had one bit of business to take care of before he changed into running clothes. He picked up the phone and called down to Human Resources. “Hey, Len. What was Linda Monroe’s reaction to our offer?”

Len Williams, a burly forty-five year old black man, answered in a deep baritone, “She said she’d get back to us, but I’m sure she’ll accept it. I told her to let us know by two.”

“Good. If she gets back to us, invite her to my party tomorrow night. You’re coming, right?”

“Will there be any single women there who aren’t twenty years younger than me?”

“Ha! I don’t know. Come anyway. How’s the divorce thing coming along?”

“It’s done.” Len sighed. “Now I can get on with my pathetic life.”

“Well, I’m sure…you know.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Um…I gotta run. So I’ll see you tomorrow.” James raced down two flights of stairs to the men’s locker room, his cock getting hard as he imagined Alicia in her normal running outfit. The only question in his mind was what color the spandex running bra and boy shorts would be, not how tight or small they would be. They would be small and tight for sure.

She was waiting for him, more naked than dressed, her nipples leaving outlines in the bra. She smiled and stared, his hard dick apparent even under his baggy shorts. “Are you ready to run, Mister Woodhouse?” Without waiting for an answer, she waved her ever-present towel at him and took off down the street.

James ran behind her, marveling at the sight of her firm ass in front of him. It wasn’t that her butt jiggled, a site he really enjoyed on other women, it was that it didn’t jiggle that excited him. So firm—so tight!

They ran three city blocks and then up a long hill that led to a city park. Once in the park, Alicia led James to a sawdust-covered path that wound through densely wooded parkland. After a quarter of a mile, she stopped, turned around and waited for him. The moment he caught up to her, she grabbed his hand and led him through the underbrush to a large oak tree that was at least three feet wide. Safely out of sight, she pushed him against the tree, shoved her hands under his tee shirt and lifted it over his head. Lifting her running bra over her head, she tossed it aside and pressed her small, hard breasts against his chest.

“Oh, God, Jimmy,” she whispered. “I love the feeling of your skin on mine.” They pressed their lips together in an amorous kiss, their tongues mingling. Alicia slid her hands into the elastic waistband of James’s shorts and pushed them to his ankles, then gabbing his hands, she shoved them inside of the back of her shorts. “Take them off me, Jimmy. Take them off me.”