I've had a couple of requests for stories, and rather than try and search for them, since the search tools don't work all that well, I thought I would simply post stories here, in one thread. Feel free to read, enjoy, and comment if you wish. I'm going to start with my older stories, Sad Lisa being the first one, in the next post.

 

Sad Lisa

This was my first CAW entry. There was a photo and we were to write a story based on the photo.

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She hangs her head and cries on my shirt.
She must be hurt very badly.
Tell me what's making you sad, Li?
Open your door, don't hide in the dark.
You're lost in the dark, you can trust me.
'Cause you know that's how it must be.

Cat Stevens - Sad Lisa


The Present

"Lisa? Is...is that you?"

And with those words from my daddy, my world crumbled. I hadn't seen my dad in almost three years. Three long, lonely, painful years.

The Past

When mom died, dad took to drinking and vegging out in front of the big screen. I couldn't stay any longer in this hick town. Just having turned 18, there was a whole world out there for me to conquer. I had talent, looks and ambition, and my drama teacher said I could really be someone, someday.

After selling my car, I took the train to New York City, along with my two suitcases packed with everything that was dear to me. The Big Apple. That was the day I met Xavier. That was the day my new life began. My new life. It lasted three years.

At first Xavier was wonderful. He helped me find a place to stay with a nice girl named Patti D'Arbanville, and he'd take me to dinner and we'd talk about my plans to be an actress or Broadway performer. Sometimes Patti and her boyfriend Cat and Xavier and I would go out together, take walks in Central Park, or go walking down through the theatre district. Xavier, or "X" as I called him, told me about a new play that was going to be casting soon called Hair. The Vietnam War was heavy on everyone's minds as nightly news broadcasts showed Americans dying in some far away land. Hair was a rancor of the social issues of the day, and I was excited by it.

X and I walked one morning over to the Biltmore Theatre on 47th where tryouts were being held. While waiting for my turn, I learned that some famous people had performed here. The dreamy Robert Redford was in Barefoot in the Park here. I saw him in the movie of the same name. Dreamy, I thought, with a capital D.

"Li," X said as he shook me a bit, "they're calling your name!" He always called me Li.

Giddy, I ran up to the front of the stage and waited to read my lines. I didn't get the part, of course. Went to some chick named Diane Keaton. Didn't matter. I knew I was gonna' be a star, and so did X.

I didn't count on X dying. The police report said he was hit by a car, but the person never stopped. X was my world. My money had long run out, and he was helping me pay the rent, buying me food. X was my number one fan. And now he too was gone. Like Mom.

You might think that becoming a prostitute was difficult. You would be correct. But in the end, there really wasn't any other options. Jobs were scarce, rent was expensive, and I needed cash soon. I knew this one woman that X had mentioned. She was called a madam. X told me that she was in charge of a group of prostitutes, "her girls" he had said. I tried to act cool about it, but X sensed my mild outrage and moral indignation. "Li, you've lived a sheltered life. Don't be too judgmental."

One day I showed up at her apartment. I explained through the intercom that X was my friend. A buzzing sound allowed me to open the door. I took the elevator to the 15th floor. Hesitantly, I knocked on the door. I wasn't sure what I expected, but, it wasn't the beautiful woman who answered the door.

"Lisa? My name is Xaviera. Please, come in."

I was shocked for a moment by her name, and I guess it showed on my face.

"I know, my name is similar to X's. We both got a kick out of that for years."

Her smile was disarming. Within a few minutes she had me talking about my relationship with X, where I came from, and my aspirations.

"Well Lisa," she started, before I interrupted.

"Please, call me 'Li'," I told her.

"All right...Li! Now, tell me, Li. Why do you want to be a hooker?"

When she saw the look on my face she burst into laughter. After a moment, I joined her. I knew I had come to the right place.

Several hours later I left her apartment with a bag of, well, things! She had given me some sex toys, and some intimate apparel, several dress, heels, and some other stuff. But most important of all, she had given me three hundred dollars. I didn't want to take it at first, but she insisted, saying that she trusted me, and that this would cover the rent for a while and that I could pay her back in time.

When I got back to the apartment I went right to my room to hide everything. I took her business card and put it in the back of my socks drawer. It just said her name, Xaviera Hollander, and had a phone number on it. No address, no business name. Guess it was better that way.

The Present

"Oh God...Lisa...oh thank God!" My dad shook off the arm of the woman who holding his and began running towards me. I didn't know what to do, and started to shake. My john was only a dozen or so feet from me, and here came my father, dropping the small satchel he was carrying and rushing towards me, the sound of his shoes echoing off the glass-enclosed walkway.

I stood up unsteadily, the damned platform heels causing me to wobble a bit. Self-consciously I tried to smooth down my clingy, dark blue dress, what little of it there was. It didn't matter, I suppose. There was no hiding it. With my six-inch fuck-me heels, my low-cut front showing off the little bit of tits that I had, and my dress that barely covered my coochie, there was no way I was not gonna' be pegged by Dad as a hooker.

The Past

Xaviera called me two days later and said she had my first assignment. "Li, you'll be going out with another girl. You'll be meeting two men for dinner, and then back to their hotel room." She went on to tell me that Lulu would be the girl, that I would like her and she'd watch over me since this was my first time.

To say I liked Lulu from the start would be accurate. She told me she took the stage name from the actress in To Sir With Love. She was dressed to kill, and had a keen wit about her. I felt a bit overwhelmed when she told me we were going to The Four Seasons for dinner. I was told by Xaviera to wear the red dress. I did.

The two men, well, they were gentlemen, arising when we walked in, one of them kissing the back of my hand even. We were seated at a table that was set off a bit from the others, giving us some privacy, and drinks were ordered. Lulu got a manhattan. I asked for one too. George, the man who would be "seeing" Lulu, was a vice-president of a large bank. Winston, who said everyone called him "Tex", was from Texas, and was some oil baron or something. It was a little hard for me to follow the conversation, but I laughed when Lulu laughed and otherwise tried to act sophisticated. Lulu must have noticed me looking down at all of the silverware. While George was discussing with Tex which wine they should order, Lulu leaned towards me and whispered "start with the silverware furthest from your plate." I whispered back "Okay."

Dinner was very nice, of course. I drank several glasses of wine. I can't remember how many, but my glass kept getting filled. Afterwards, we rode in a cab to a hotel. There wasn't enough room so Lulu and I had to sit on George and Tex's laps. It was fun. When the cab would turn a corner, we'd start to fall and the men would hold us so we wouldn't.

I'm pretty sure I had more alcohol than I was used to, because I don't remember too much. Getting out of the cab, taking the elevator up to the room, even getting undressed. I remember Tex kissing me. I think it was nice. He smelled nice. I thought I would be more nervous. I wasn't. I didn't care. Tex was a nice man and he bought me a nice dinner and he was rubbing my body nicely and saying "Pretty Li". I didn't use a stage name.

I guess I sorta' drifted off a bit, but I do remember laying on a bed and he was down between my legs, licking me. It felt really, really nice. I looked down and then I giggled. I could see him, his eyes, his nose, and then my dark, full bush made it look like he had a beard! I really thought that was funny!

I remember him getting on top of me, I think. He was a nice man, and he made me feel good. At some point I must have drifted off to sleep because it was Lulu who woke me later on, telling me it was time to get dressed and go. I must have fallen down at some point because me butt stung quite a bit. It was later on that Lulu told me that the gentlemen had anal sex with me. First Tex, and then when he told George how tight I was, George said he wanted a go at it. Lulu said that they had me on my hands and knees and that they would trade places. She said it went on for over half an hour.

I ran to the bathroom and vomited. Lulu followed me in and held me, rocking gently back and forth, humming a tune I didn't recognize.

The Present

Daddy gave me a big bear hug, right there for the whole world to see. I silently waved my john off with pleading eyes. His eyes darkened, but he turned and left.

"Lisa, I've been so worried about you. Where have you been honey? Why didn't you call?" He was speaking fast and then he looked at what I was wearing. "Honey, look what you are wearing...it's is cold out" and he took of his jacket and put it around me.

The woman that he was with was now standing close by and staring. She looked to be about Daddy's age. She didn't look happy.

The Past

My life started to blur somewhat over the next few months. I'd get a call, dress up, go to dinner, then get screwed. Well, not screwed screwed. I would get paid. The money was pretty good. Patti was happy that I had a job, although I was pretty evasive in telling her what I was doing. After a while she just gave up asking. I spent less time with her as her career started to develop. I liked Cat, but he was kinda' quiet around me. Maybe it was the drugs I was taking. Pills mostly, some LSD, grass for sure. One day when he was at the apartment, he talked to me more than he had ever done. I don't remember all of it exactly, but he said that I had inspired him to write a song about me. I was so overwhelmed with emotion that I cried and then offered him head. He got up and left.

I had sex with hundreds of people over the next few years. Men, women, men and women, several men at a time, and once with three women. I moved out and got my own apartment. I made a lot of money, but spent a lot of money too, on drugs, on clothes, on partying. Some of the time the sex was great. Other times, well, I don't remember all of the sex that I've had. Too much booze, too many pills. I do remember some of the weird guys. In fact, I saw one just the other day.

It was at a midtown hotel and I was told that the guy wanted to wear a mask, and for me to spank him and call him Daddy while reaching around to stroke him. I know, I know...it takes all kinds. But, for a couple of hundred dollars, why not? So I did it and it was fine except I didn't like his cologne. Old Spice. Yuk. "Hit me harder, Li," he'd tell me, so I'd whack him harder as he howled.

The Present

"Honey, this is Li, my daughter."

As the faint scent of the cologne on his coat washed over me, my blood ran cold. Old Spice.

"What did you call me?" I said, taking a step back.

"Lisa, what's wrong?" he asked.

"You said Li, not Lisa."

Daddy looked at me with sad eyes.

"Yes. Yes I did."

 

In the Name of Love

This also was an early CAW entry. The theme, I believe, was to incorporate the phrase "All I have to do is dream" and it was a gender bender, meaning as a guy, I had to write the story from a female point of view. This was a short short story. I wrote another entry for that CAW too.

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In the Name of Love

I could hear the raised voices and I knew they were arguing, again. It had to be about me. It was always about me, lately.

"Leave her alone. She's with me now," he would say.

Jude always had a reply.

"She wastes money. She buys things for her use, or for you. You know we have better use for the little money we get."

I could see that he was getting a little hot at Jude.

"Who are you to criticize her? Are you perfect? Is your slate so clean to warrant this, this despisal of her? Leave. Her. Alone."

Jude saw me standing nearby now, shook his head, and left.

Supper was no better. There was squabbling, and there was another heated exchange, accusations, argument.

Later, I watched him go and lay down, the weight of the world seemingly on his shoulders. I could see it in his eyes, a coming sadness. As he closed them, I walked over and sat down right next to him. Reaching out, I stroked his hair, moving a length of it away from his face, his forehead hot from the exchange.

"Sleep, my love," I whispered so softly, wanting to soothe him, to calm him, not wanting him to hear.

As he drifted off to sleep, I once again re-examined my feelings for this man. Did I love him? If you would have asked me a few days ago, the answer may have been different, but today, after these past few days, yes, yes, I do love him. Oh, this is just so crazy! Who am I to love this man? He doesn't need this in his life, need me in his life. Not now. And me, what kind of fool am I to love a man. He's just a man, yes, just a man. How many men have I had in my life? He's but one more, so, why do I care so?

A slight disturbance in the distance distracted me. It was the others, drinking wine, carrying on some.

I guess I see this as somewhat funny. I mean, I'm always the one who has been in control, never a fool, and now look at me. Fawning over this man. He is just a man. And look at him, sleeping like an angel, despite the others making noise and drinking. They just don't understand.

"Hi Mags," said Peter, walking over from the ruckus.

"Hello Peter, how are you?" He told me to call him Pete, but I preferred the more formal, full name, despite him using a nickname for me. He looked a little rough.

"I'm fine, Mags," he replied with a warm smile, "just feeling a little sleepy. Must be the wine."

"Yes, well, I hope the rest of them don't get too much louder. I don't want them to wake him. Not now. Not tonight."

Peter looked at me, and nodded slowly. He knew. They probably all suspected, but he knew. I'm sure he saw it in my eyes, my actions.

"Mags," he said in a lower tone, "why don't you tell him?"

"What? You want me to scream and shout my feelings for him? Speak of love? Just let all of my crazy feelings out? I can't do that, Peter. I can't bring him down."

"Mags, what if he loves you too? Don't you want to know?"

I had been thinking about that for the past few days. That's pretty much all that I had been thinking about.

"No, Peter. I don't think I could cope. I don't, I don't want to know."

He again nodded, came over and gave me a hug, and then walked slowly away, back to the others, a kind of resignation in his gait.

A couple of hours passed. The rabble had quieted down. It was the wine. It was always the wine. And then he awoke.

"How do you feel?"

"I feel fine," he said, getting up. "I think I will go take a walk, then pray. I will not be long."

I watched him walk into the darkness, over to where Peter and the others were resting. I heard his voice, but couldn't make out the words, other than him calling out Peter's name and a couple of others. Then there was just the quiet.

I don't know why I was feeling nervous. I couldn't rest, wasn't ready to sleep. There was nothing to do except wait until he returned. I again returned to my feelings for him. I knew in my heart that I loved him, that I wanted him more than I've wanted any other man, but, still, it wasn't right. More than anything I felt he needed comfort, he needed me to take away the sadness that he felt. He had developed a forlorn look about him. It was tearing me apart. I knew that I could be a good woman for him, that I could help him through these troubled times.

It was the middle of the night when it began. I had fallen asleep under one of the large olive trees. I felt people passing by, and it was the sheer number of them that actually caused me to arise and look around. I saw Peter waking up, and Jude was back and looking around. He appeared agitated.

That's when I noticed the soldiers. I rushed to find him but saw that Jude was talking to him, and then leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, not so much an odd gesture, of course, but it seemed out of context due to their heated discussions from earlier. Perhaps it was part of an apology.

It wasn't. The soldiers immediately moved in past Jude and took hold of him. Others formed a protective arch between them and Peter and the others. John and James immediately drew their weapons, along with Peter, but he told them no.

"Please, put them away. I do not want to see more blood shed on my account. Do not fight them."

As the soldiers led him away and past me, he stopped briefly, took my head in his hands and looked me square in the eyes.

"Mary," his eyes so intense, "remember this: I will come back to you."

And then he was gone, and soon I was alone, in Gethsemane. I wept the tears of a thousand rainfalls.

The next day, I watched in horror as he was crucified. The mocking, the apparent joy that was felt as his agony increased. It was too much to bear. I again wept, and begged for mercy for him from God that would not be shown. I felt his pain, and could not comfort him. I ached to tell him that he was loved, that I vowed that I would never love another man again, but I could not find the words.

He died, on the cross, late in the afternoon.

Three days later, he kept his promise to me.

Thirty years later, I had kept my promise, my silent vow of chastity, to him.

"Mother? What promise?"

My daughter, as much as I could see of her through my fading eyes, was so beautiful.

"I promised him I would never love another man again. Never be with another man again."

"But Mother," she said in almost a mollifying tone, "how do you explain me?"

Remembering back thirty years, He appeared to me before all others, calling to me by name. I was so overcome with emotion that I rushed towards Him; He had stopped me, telling me I couldn't touch Him now. He looked at me as if He were making a decision, no, confirming one that he had already made, then reached out Himself and lay a hand on my abdomen. I felt the warm glow of life inside of me. I knew. I was with child.

"I have no explanation, Sarah."

As I closed my eyes for the final time in this lifetime, I did what I had been doing for nearly the past thirty years, thinking that to see Him, all I have to do, is dream.

 

JFK: My Lover, My President

This also was an entry in CAW 6, writing from a gender opposite point of view.

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JFK: My Lover, My President

My love affair with JFK began shortly after I met him. He was the most handsome man I knew, and certainly one of the most handsome men the world knew. Now that he is gone, I want to put these memories onto paper, to preserve them, if for no one else but me. All I have now of him are memories, memories and dreams. Here is our story.

I was just 19 when I was hired to serve as an assistant to Mrs. Kennedy. My father was a big contributor to Mr. Kennedy's campaign, and as thanks for all his help, I was hired into the White House. I had complete my schooling at Katherine Gibbs in Providence, and was eager to enter the workforce. Moving to Washington, D.C. was a big deal for me, but thankfully most of the transition went smoothly. An apartment was waiting for me, complete with a roommate who had a job with the State Department. It was amazing how people reacted when they learned that I would be working in the White House.

"You'll be working for President Kennedy?" asked the landlord. "Oh, no no no, you don't need a deposit, miss, just please, say 'Hello!' to the President for me."

I remember the first time I saw Jackie. Of course, to me, she was always Mrs. Kennedy, never Jackie. She was standing in the Blue Room with Stephane Boudin. Mr. Boudin was there to help redecorate. I overhead part of their conversation as I was waiting with Mrs. Kennedy's personal assistant to be introduced.

"Mrs. Kennedy, I assure you that Madison-era furniture, with its empirical nature, will bring much needed style to this room."

Jackie stood there looking at him for a few seconds, then glanced over towards where I was standing. I was surprised by the growing intensity of her stare, as she continued her conversation with Boudin.

"Stephane, I trust you. Just remember, elegant charm. The American people have had a rough time of it lately, and I want them to see a new image in the White House, less military, with much more family appeal."

And with that, Jackie strode over to where Mary Gallagher and I were waiting.

"Mrs. Kennedy, this is Nancy Tuckerman. She's the new girl I told you about."

Jackie looked at me, up and down briefly, and then flashed her million-dollar smile.

"Nancy, pleased to meet you," and she extended her hand in my direction.

"Mrs. Presi...I mean, Mrs. Kennedy, ma'am," I babbled, gently taking her hand as I had learned in Protocol class at school.

The First Lady laughed lightly, and, seeing my obvious discomfort and blush, looked at Mary while releasing my hand.

"She's quite beautiful, Mary. Now you keep her safe, you hear?" And with that, she was off. I asked Mary what she meant by "safe" but Mary didn't answer directly, just saying that if I follow the rules, and work hard, I'll be fine.

History wants us to believe that the sexual revolution of the 1960s started towards the end of the decade, but that wasn't entirely true, at least not in our nation's capital. I myself was a virgin, having had but a few dates with boys, and only kissing one of them briefly. I was curious, of course, being normal, and I had "touched myself" a couple of times, but, I didn't even know what an orgasm was, let alone had one. All that was to change.

Several weeks passed and one night after dinner and a shower I told my roommate Jill that I was going to the library for a couple of hours. She had a friend over, a British gal with an unusual name, Dusty, and they were singing songs. Dusty, I was told, was an aspiring singer. After catching the bus, I was halfway to the library when I realized that I had forgotten one book. I didn't want to pay a fine, so I got off the bus and started walking back to the apartment. Took almost forty minutes, and, as I entered the apartment, I didn't see Jill and Dusty and thought perhaps they had left. Then I heard some noises coming from a back bedroom. I walked back towards my bedroom, and passed by Jill's, the door not quite closed all the way. I peeked.

To say I received the shock of my life would still be an understatement. There, on the bed and naked, was my roommate Jill and her friend Dusty! I gasped aloud but the radio was on next to the bed so my rapid intake of air went unheard. Jill was laying on her back, one hand around Dusty's back, and Dusty, Dusty was kissing Jill's left breast! Her nipple! She was kissing it, and licking and even sucking on it, much like a baby would. But most shocking of all was her hand, which was down between Jill's legs. Her fingers were lightly pulling at the brown hair that surrounded her vagina, and then touching her there, rubbing, and oh heavens, she then put a finger inside of Jill's vagina!

As I watched this Sapphic spectacle, I felt some strangle feeling in my own breasts and down between my legs. I could actually feel my own nipples starting to harden. Good grief! I told myself that the apartment must just be cold, and then gasped again as Dusty had now moved her head down between Jill's legs. No, she couldn't be! But it was true! She was licking at Jill's vagina!

I felt a little faint, and set my purse and two books down, slumping a bit against the wall. My brain told me to get out of there, to leave right now, but for some reason I couldn't. I had to look again.

Jill's head was moving now, side to side, and with one hand she was pinching her own nipple, while the other hand was entwined in Dusty's hair, almost as if she was trying to force her face against her private parts more firmly. Then I could hear Jill moaning as it looked like Dusty wasn't licking her any longer, but instead was kissing her at the top of her vagina. Or maybe she was providing some suction there, I couldn't tell. But I could tell that Jill was really, really enjoying herself.

It was then I realized that I was trying to rub myself between my legs with my right hand, while my left hand was squeezing at one of my nipples that was pressing through my blouse. I quickly removed the hand from between my legs, but not the other, and looked again.

"Oh God Yesssssss.....I'm cummmmmmmmmmmmming......" and Jill was thrusting her hips to and fro. I'll give Dusty credit, she had her arms wrapped around Jill's legs and was holding on tight for the ride. I guess maybe she liked the taste, which seemed strangely odd to me at the time.

As Jill quieted down, Dusty moved up on the bed and straddled Jill's head. That put Jill's head right between Dusty's legs, and when Dusty lowered herself, I knew what she was doing. She was putting her vagina right on top of Jill's mouth! I noticed as she was moving up the bed that she had a large growth of dark hair down there, unlike her blonde hair on her head. I couldn't see Jill's face, but she must have been doing something with her mouth or tongue because Dusty was moving her hips around and pinching both of her nipples with her fingers. I saw that Jill had moved one hand down between her own legs and was using three fingers to rub at the top of her vagina in a circular motion. That was when I again noticed that my hand was between my legs.

Looking at Jill, I threw caution to the wind and slid my hand down in-between my stomach and my skirt, under my panties, and past my soft hair until I felt my own wetness. I moaned quietly to myself, rubbing gently. I thought I was being quiet, but Jill's voice startled me.

"What the fuck are you doing home?"

I quickly pulled my hand out of my skirt, but, there was no denying what I had been doing. Dusty had a smirk on her face, and I could see a wetness on Jill's face that could only be from where Dusty's vagina had leaked on her.

"I'm sorry, I'm, I was, I forgot a book, I'm sor..." I stammered.

Dusty stepped forward and put one arm around my back and took hold of my arm with her other hand and started leading me into Jill's bedroom.

"Come on in, cutie, the fun is just getting started," said Dusty, moving me towards the bed as Jill closed the door.

"No wait, I don't want to, I'm not like you," I was cut off by Dusty pressing her mouth against mine, her tongue snaking inside of it and pressing against mine, surprising the bejesus out of me.

The next minutes went by in a blur as hands were all over me, unbuttoning my blouse, unzipping my skirt, my bra came off, my panties were pulled down, all the while I was getting kissed and fondled by both Jill and Dusty, my mind awash with lustful feelings and guilt.

"Wait, please, we shouldn't" and my mouth was filled with a nipple, hands cradling my head and pulling me closer. With my body responding in ways that I never knew possible, what else could I do?

I sucked on the nipple.

Laying in my bed later, I reflected upon how my life had changed. I was a lesbian! I was both thrilled and ashamed. I thought about the Scarlet Letter, and giddily wondered if there would be a bright red "L" on my forehead in the morning. I licked my lips again and could still taste Dusty on them, opting not to brush my teeth before bed tonight. And I learned all about an orgasm! I lay back in bed, listening to the radio...singing along..."...dream, dream, dream..." as I drifted off to sleep, thinking about the President, and a little about Dusty Springfield too.

"Nancy!" It was Mary, my boss.

"I'm sorry, yes?"

"What were you day dreaming about girl?"

Just then the President and Jackie passed by in the corridor, and I blushed. Mary saw my redness, and smiled coyly.

"I understand. He has that affect on all new girls." I nodded and lowered my eyes, a small smile appearing on my face. I guess I was crushing on him from the start.

It was a month later that I got my real first taste of the presidency. I was working late, typing up a report for Jackie, when I felt a presence behind me. I looked over my shoulder and then jumped as I saw Kenneth O'Donnell standing there. Kenny, as he was known, was an imposing man. He was also a special advisor to the President. Some say he was filling the role of Chief of Staff. I stood up quickly.

"Yes, Mr. O'Donnell, sir?"

He just looked at me, impassively, as if he were studying me, measuring me. I was starting to grow more uncomfortable but then he broke the silence.

"The President would like to see you." He continued staring.

"Now. Oval Office." He turned and left.

"Oh Geez," I thought to myself, what did I do now? The President didn't even know I existed as far as I knew. Was I going to get fired? Oh no...did they somehow find out that I was a lesbian? Or was I a lesbian? I wanted men, or, a man, I mean, the President. So how could I be a lesbian?"

A million thoughts flew in and out of my mind as I walked towards the Oval Office, all of them worse than the previous one.

The President's secretary was working outside of the Oval Office and saw me approaching. Her name was Evelyn Lincoln, and she smiled politely and nodded towards one of the doors.

I hesitantly entered, butterflies filling my stomach.

The President was sitting at his desk, reading some papers. I quietly walked over and stood a respectful distance away, not saying anything. A minute or so later he looked up.

"Yes?"

From his look, it was like he was not expecting me. Was this some cruel joke that Mr. O'Donnell was playing on me?

"Mister...Mister O'Donnell said," he cut me off.

"Yes, right, you're Nancy, is it? He smiled.

"Yes sir, Mr. President."

He got up and walked over to me. At six feet two inches, he towered over me. He reached out and put a hand on my shoulder, and looked me straight in the eyes.

"Nancy, I've heard good things about you. That you're a hard worker. That you can keep secrets. Tell me, do you like serving your country, serving my presidency?"

"Oh yes Mr. President," I beamed. "I'm honored to serve you. I love my job. I'll do anything I'm asked sir, anything."

I suppose if you looked in a dictionary under the word "naive" you would find a photo of me.

The President continued on with his smile, looking at me. Now I was what you call a looker, I suppose. I wasn't tall at five and a half feet, but I was pretty, and slender, and my breasts, well, they were a D cup, and on my 34 inch bust, well, it made me look good. My hair was strawberry blonde, and came to the middle of my back, although I wore it up most often at work, to look older.

"Nancy," he squeezed my shoulder a bit and then moved back towards his desk, "I need your help right now. I dropped a pencil under my desk. Would you retrieve it for me?"

"Oh, absolutely Mr. President," I said enthusiastically, moving over and getting down on my hands and knees, crawling under the desk.

"I don't see anything Mr. President" I said as I looked around, then moved my head out from under the desk to look at him. He was seated in his chair, and moved close to me, which put his crotch almost at my mouth. I looked up at him, a little bewildered.

"Stay there" he commanded.

Then he unzipped his fly, reached in with his hand and pulled out his penis! I thought I was going to pee right on his carpet. I was totally speechless, and, awestruck, and horrified, and thrilled. His penis was huge. I could see what appeared to be about 8 inches, and I'm sure that there was a little more left inside of his trousers.

"Nancy, you said you would do anything to serve your president. Well, this is exactly what I need serviced, right here, right now. Can you help, Nancy?"

Now with that said, what on earth could I say or do? I was rendered speechless. This large penis was staring right at me, menacing me, giving me hot flashes. This was the commander-in-chief, my crush, asking me to give him, what did they call it, a blow job?

"I, sir, I don't know what to do. I mean, I've never done something like this before."

I heard a chuckle, and then a voice.

"Open your mouth, Nancy, and move forward," he said, one of his hands reaching for the back of my head.

I did what he said, and opened my mouth and moved forward. Using his hand, he guided my head over his penis until I had about four inches of it in my mouth.

"Keep your teeth away from it, and bob your head back and forth, slowly."

I did what he said. I began to fellate the President of the United States.

With the help of his hand, we began to develop a rhythm. I made sure to keep my lips over my teeth so I didn't injure him. Sometimes he would push a little harder, and more of his penis would go into my mouth. It was almost like he wanted me to swallow it. I almost laughed at that thought.

Soon he was moving my head back and forth faster, and faster. It felt like the head of his penis was getting a little larger, like it was swelling. I hoped I wasn't hurting it; that would certainly get me fired, I thought.

When President John Fitzgerald Kennedy emptied his balls into my mouth, it was an even bigger surprise than when he showed me his penis! I felt the hot cum shooting inside my mouth, and then I figured out what it was, but by then I was already swallowing it because there wasn't a lot of room left what with his big penis and all. I didn't mind the taste, I just wasn't sure about the idea of swallowing sperm. The thought had never occurred to me.

He finished by asking me to lick all of the cum off of his penis, which of course I did, not wanting him to possibly stain his expensive pants. When I was done he put his penis away, backed up his chair, and offered his hand to help me stand up, which I took.

"Thank you, Nancy...you served your president with excellence. Now, stop by Mr. O'Donnell's office."

"Yes, Mr. President, thank you, sir."

I quickly left the office, my head spinning.

"I gave a blow job, no, a blowjob, to the President" I thought to myself, my heart filled with emotion.

As I left the office, I walked the short distance to Mr. O'Donnell's office, wondering what he might want. I knocked and heard a curt "Come in".

"Mr. O'Donnell, the President asked me," he cut me off.

"Miss Tuckerman, I saw you with the President."

I gasped.

"I could have you fired on the spot. Tell your father. You'd be disgraced. Do you want that?"

"No! Please no!"

He looked at me with contempt. I was sure I was going to get fired.

"Come over here."

I walked tentatively to his desk. He spun me around, facing away from him, and pushed forward, bending me over his desk.

"Keep quiet," he told me.

Then he pulled up my dress, exposing my panties and backside. I felt him pull down my panties and I started to panic.

"You're wet," he stated, as I felt his fingers touch my vagina.

"I'm...I'm...I'm a virgin, sir."

He stopped probing me.

"Are you lying to me?"

"No...no sir."

Maybe there was some hope. Maybe he didn't want to take my cherry. Maybe I could save that for my President.

Mr. O'Donnell was one of the old guard who kept his hair slicked back. I saw his hand reach for a drawer, open it, and retrieve a vial of Vaseline. I thought this was an odd time for him to worry about his hair. A few seconds later he tossed the vial back into the drawer. Then I felt him move his body against mine.

"Mr. O'Donnell, honest, I'm a vir......sir, um, that's not my vagina."

He had mistakenly placed his penis against my anus and had started to push. Then the head of his penis popped inside my anus, and I let out a screech.

"Quiet!" he said, and took a glove from his desk and stuck it in my mouth. "Bite down, it'll help keep you quiet."

I bit down as instructed, but still felt the sting of his penis in my ass. Then he took hold of both of my wrists with his hands and pulled them back towards him. It all came together in my mind quickly what was going to happen.

"Hey, wait a ..."

In one smooth motion, Mr. O'Donnell pushed forward hard while pulling my arms back hard. This forced all of his penis to sink deep into my ass as I let out a scream, muffled by the glove in my mouth. I don't remember the last time something hurt that much. Thankfully he had used the Vaseline. I felt him pull back until just the head was inside, and then he thrust inside me once again.

Tears were running down my cheeks, but it was worth it. If this is what it took to keep my job and be close to the President, it was worth it.

Mr. O'Donnell kept thrusting in and out of my ass, hard strokes, muttering something about how tight my ass was, and how we both needed this.

After a couple minutes of this thrusting I felt him change his rhythm and then felt his warm liquid squirt into me. Thankfully, this was over.

After we re-arranged our clothing, he told me that I would report to him at 9pm every Tuesday night, unless he was out of town. And so every Tuesday evening we would have anal sex. Same position. Same lube. He never once kissed me or wanted anything else. As I became more experienced and comfortable with my body, I learned to keep one of my arms free so I could reach under and sometimes rub his balls, or, more often, rub my little button. Sometimes I was able to orgasm.

I guess I didn't mind servicing Mr. O'Donnell, because I sorta' figured out that as long as he wanted me, I'd be kept close by, and I could spend time with the President.

And spend time I did. The President liked when I stopped by to help him find misplaced pencils, pens, and other items. I knew he loved me, but that he had to stay married to Jackie for appearances. For about a year all he wanted from me was a blowjob. I got better giving them over time. I learned how to take him deeper into my mouth, and into my throat. He liked it when I did that. I'm sure that he was falling in love with me, as I loved him.

Then one day he told me that Jackie was going away for a week, and that he wanted me to meet him in the private residence that night. I went home and soaked in the tub for an hour, then got dressed, carefully applying my make-up, and picked out my best dress. I went back to work and was ushered upstairs. The President (I could never really think of Him as Jack) was dressed casually, wearing a cardigan and slacks. He offered me a drink, which was a first for me. It was scotch.

He asked me about my home life, about growing up, about when I went to school, and I filled him in on all of the details. As time went on, he was refilling my drink glass. I felt that it was getting warm in there, and the more I drank, the warmer it got.

After a couple of hours I was feeling quite giddy, and giggly. Before I knew it, the President was kissing me.

"Oh, Mr. President, I love you" I said, in-between kisses.

He smiled and removed my clothes and carried me to a bed. Looking down at me, he began removing his clothes. When I finally saw his cock (he told me to call it a cock, not a penis), it was rock hard. He kneeled and straddled my head, facing my feet. I raised my head and took one of his balls into my mouth, licking it. I felt him lay down partially on top of me. I remembered this position; I was in a 69 with my President, my lover. I felt his hands running through my reddish-blonde pussy hair. (He told me to call it a pussy, not a vagina!) Then he was kissing my pussy, and soon licking my clit. I brought his peni...cock back and put it into my mouth and began sucking on it. I was in love.

After a few minutes I was getting ready to cum, but the President stopped licking and fingering me. I wanted to tell him to keep going, that I was close, but, he was the president after all. He got off the bed and grabbed my legs and pulled me close to the edge. Then he pushed my legs back until my knees were at my shoulders. His face was close to mine, and I felt his cock nudged up against my pussy. My President was going to take my virginity. This was so roman...

I thought the deflowering of my ass was painful, but this seemed to hurt even more, as I screamed when the President buried his nine and one-half inch cock into my virgin pussy in one, huge thrust. I felt my pussy tear, and then he began sawing in and out, full strokes, going deep and banging against my womb. I was glad I had so much to drink, because it seemed to dull the pain between my legs. But I was enduring this for my lover, for my President.

When Jack died (Yes, all these years later, I think of him as Jack, finally), a part of me died too. It was heart wrenching to see little John saluting his Daddy's casket as it moved past him. I think of Jack often. I dream of the time that we spent together, of the many times we made love, and of the plans that I had made. I knew that he would divorce Jackie once he left office and that he would marry me. But I never told a single soul about us. Never put these thoughts on paper. Not until today.

"Mrs. Tuckerman? Mrs. Tuck...there you are. Mrs. Tuckerman, it's time for your medicine," said the orderly.

"Thank you. Bill, can you tell me, is John back yet?"

"Yes Mrs. Tuckerman, Mr. Hinckley arrived back here at St. Elizabeth's earlier this morning. Now, what's that song that he plays for you on his guitar?"

"It's called All I Have To Do Is Dream."

"Ah, that's right. Okay Mrs. Tuckerman, here's the pill."

I swallowed.

"Thank you, Mrs. Tuckerman. Sweet dreams."

Sweet indeed, I thought.

Dream...dream, dream, dream...whenever I want you, all I have to do..........I drifted off to sleep again........dreaming of my lover Jack, of those wonderful times we had together, fifty years ago.

 

Best Little Whorehouse on XNXX

This was my entry into CAW 7. It came in first place. It was different in that I included members of this website as part of the "cast". Some are still here, others have moved on. There is a list of credits at the end of the post. I actually had mini-interviews via PM with the cast to find out what they looked like, some of their sexual preferences, etc. Of course I took a few liberties here and there, but tried to remain faithful.

---------------------------------

Best Little Whorehouse on XNXX


Prologue


Incorporated over 150 years ago, La Grange, Texas is a small town in southeastern Texas. With a population just under 5,000, and nestled up against the Colorado river, town folk (many of German and Czech heritage) enjoyed a relaxed way of life. 38 years ago, a landmark brothel known as the Chicken Ranch was closed down through the efforts of a Houston television reporter, and the state Attorney General.

The Chicken Ranch was located several miles outside of town. With so many years passing, nature had swept away the last remaining remnants of the place. But the land was still there. And land was what a man known as Mr. Horse was interested in. Through an attorney, he quietly purchased up one hundred acres, including the land that was once where the Chicken Ranch was situated. Within a few weeks, construction began and a multi-story structure arose. Townspeople paid little attention. With the economy being what it was, they had little time for foolishness outside of their own existence.

The mysterious Mr. Horse had spent years planning this venture. Having made his fortune in the stock market, he meticulously planned out a strategy for his newest venture. Local politicians were cultivated, their campaigns seeded with money from an anonymous source known only as Mr. Horse. Politicians in Austin, the state capital, were also sought out and coddled over the years. Key members of Congress received contributions, or had fund-raisers conducted for them. Many favors were being accumulated.

The coup de grace was a relationship built up by Mr. Horse and the leaders of the island nation of Palau over the past few years. He obtained dual citizenship, and was appointed Palau's ambassador to the United States. No one in Washington really cared since Palau, with its population of about 20,000, was of little significance in the overall world stage. And when Palau quietly announced that it was establishing its embassy outside the small town of La Grange, Texas vs. Washington, DC, it was reported by the Washington Post, but on page 37.

Now, eleven years later...


Chapter 1

The Greyhound bus stop was nothing more than a general store that sold newspapers and soft drinks. When she exited the coach, few took notice, but those that did took note of her lithe figure, long blonde tresses, and near peasant attire.

Looking at the slip of paper, she saw that her destination was several miles away, and longed for the comfort of a taxi. Her budget wouldn't allow for that extravagance, however. So, she set off on foot, her long, strong legs helping to support the backpack which contained pretty much everything she owned.

She passed by Brendan Manor, the Stoltz Mansion, and later the County Courthouse, what few looks she drew she was used to. As she walked by the large, red-roofed Department of Transportation complex, she saw that a police car was pulling to a stop just in front of her. The passenger window lowered, and as she got close, she could almost feel the cold air pouring out into the heat of the day.

"I'm Sheriff Don," came the voice, laced with a classic Texas drawl. "You heading out to the Castle, Miss?" He noticed her nipples protruding somewhat against her shirt.

She seemed to study him for a moment.

"Castle?"

"The embassy. Outside of town?" A furrow appeared at her apparent confusion. "You going to see Miss Ellen?" he tried in a bit of a stage whisper.

A smile confirmed the answer to his question.

"Yes, I have an appointment today to see Miss..."

"Well, get in, Miss," said the Sheriff as he popped the lock open, "it's a couple of miles and in this heat, you might just melt."

She gratefully accepted his invitation, putting her backpack on the floor between her legs. As they rode off, the Sheriff got a call on his cell phone, which kept his busy for a couple of minutes. She saw the beginnings of a large structure in the distance just as the Sheriff was finishing his call.

"Yep, that's the place," he said, patting her knee affectionately and thinking of what lay just north.

She thought it impolite of her to not have at least introduced herself to the Sheriff.

"I'm Gay," she said with a smile.

The Sheriff looked at her, the normally jovial expression on his face replaced with one that typically indicated a bitter taste. He immediately removed his hand from her knee.

The Palau embassy was quite a fortress. There was a fifteen foot tall brick wall surrounding the entire complex, topped with razor wire, security cameras, and powerful halogen lights. The gate to the entrance was a three-foot tall wall of rebar-reinforced concrete that would descend into the earth when so commanded by one of the two guards on duty.

The Sheriff pulled up to the guard station and lowered his window.

"Good afternoon, Sheriff," said one of the guards, "how may I help you?"

"The lady says she has an appointment." The Sheriff gave the guard a knowing nod.

The guard looked at his clipboard, then looked at her, as if comparing information.

"Come with me, Miss," he said, "and thank you, Sheriff. Will we be seeing you later this evening, sir?"

Sheriff Don loved his job. In his mid-60s, he was a town favorite and had been Sheriff for the past 33 years. He had run unopposed for the past 20 years, except for that one year when CJ Wildcat ran because he got mad at Don for tossing him in jail for a night after he got into a bar fight. CJ got 3 votes. Two of his cousins and one of his brothers didn't vote for him. What the Sheriff loved best about his job was his weekly visits to see Miss Ellen. Dinner, dessert and her company.

"Yes. Yes you will." He raised his window and after the woman had left his vehicle, he turned around and headed back for town, thinking what a waste that the fine woman he just dropped off was only interested in pussy.



Chapter 2

The guard escorted her inside to the Reception desk situated in the center of the room, where a pretty young woman with long red hair and ample bust was just getting off the phone. Her name plate said "Miss Jessica" and in smaller letters "New York".

"I'm here to see Miss Ellen and I'm Gay."

"Honey, your lifestyle is really your own business," replied Jessica. Then, pointing towards a door with the number 404 on it, continued, "You can wait for Miss Ellen in there."

The room was somewhat stark and impersonal with minimalistic decor. There was a chair opposite a large mahogany desk, so she took a seat, and waited.

A few minutes later a door at the end of the room opened and in walked Miss Ellen. Decked out in blue Carlos Miele dress, short heels, and what looked like a fortune in diamonds around her neck, wrist and adorning her ears, Miss Ellen moved with the confidence of her years. A startlingly attractive woman, Gay suspected she was in her mid-40s.

"You must be Gay," she said, moving around the desk and extending her hand, "it's so good to see you again, my dear."

"We've met before?" asked Gay, and taking a closer look at her.

"I was at all of your birthday parties when you were a child. Your mom, God bless her soul, and I were, well, good friends. In fact, it's because of your mom that you were invited to come here."

"I don't understand. What does my mom have to do with all of this, and, what is all of this?"

"All in good time. You must be thirsty or perhaps hungry?" Without waiting for an answer, Miss Ellen pressed a button on her phone. "W.S.? Yes, bring in two glasses of sweet tea and some of those finger sandwiches."

"Miss Ellen, I don't mean to be rude, but I'm very much in the dark," started Gay, then pausing as Miss Ellen raised her hand in the universal "stop" sign.

"Gay, you've come a long way from Florida, so relax a bit and let me explain."

Just then the door opened again and in walked a man carrying a tray of sandwiches and two glasses. He put them on the desk. Gay noticed his name tag: W.S. Fun, then below it, Northeast in smaller letters.

"Miss Ellen", he nodded and acknowledged, then turned to Gay, his eye appraising her body.

"I'm Gay."

He nodded at her, then went to leave the room, muttering "what a shame" under his breath.

Miss Ellen continued with her explanation.

"When your mom passed, a letter was given to me by the family lawyer. It was from her. She said that she hoped that I would keep an eye on you, and that if I was able to help you in the future, to please do so. Now, I know that you have run into some financial troubles, Gay, and that you've been seeing men as an escort to pay off your debts to the loan shark..." Miss Ellen paused as Gay simultaneously choked on a piece of sandwich and nearly dropped her drink.

"I don't...how do you..."

"Gay, it's okay. You were foolish to go to the Boss for money, but that's all over now. I paid off your balance."

"You did?" said Gay, astonished.

"Do you know what your mom did for a living?"

"No."

"She worked here, under my supervision, many, many years ago. Long before this place was built. It was a brothel, Gay, called The Chicken Ranch. And your mom was the best. She had a regular list of clientele who swore that she could suck a golf ball through a garden hose!" Miss Ellen stopped when she realized what she had said, and when she looked at Gay's eyes, wide with surprise.

The two women began to chuckle, and then both laughed at the raunchy reference.

"Gay, what you are sitting inside is one of the best kept secrets outside of Washington. From the public side, we are the residence of the Ambassador from Palau to the United States. From the private side, we are the best little whorehouse in Texas! Now before you get your shackles up at the word "whore", words are just words. We're far more exclusive than what you were doing back in Florida, trust me. Our clients are typically diplomats, Congressmen, judges, or other high political figures who need absolute discretion, and great companionship. And that's what we provide. I invited you here, Gay, because your car got repo'd, your rent was overdue, and it seemed like you could use a step up. Was I wrong?"

Gay's eyes had lowered in submission. "No."

"Good. Then let's get down to business. For the first month, you're on probation. You'll receive half-wages, and you'll not be allowed to leave the compound unless escorted by someone else. Regular cell phones don't work within the compound. If you need to make a call, come see me. You'll have your own apartment here to live in, and you'll dine with the rest of the staff. We have a complete exercise facility here, pool, sauna, hot tub and more. First thing tomorrow you'll get checked out by the on-site physician, Dr. Tails. In your room you'll find pretty much everything you need. We have an extensive wardrobe for you to choose from too. Questions?"

"When will I be expected to see custom..."

"They are clients, not customers, or johns, or any other term. You'll find an informational sheet in your room that will explain everything. You won't see anyone for a few days, to give you some time to get acclimated," there was a knock on the door, "and meet the other gals. Come in!"

The door opened and in walked a stunning, platinum blonde and behind her another knockout, this one with strawberry blonde hair.

"I have other things to attend to now," said Miss Ellen, "so I'll leave you in capable hands." She left the room and closed the door.

Both girls saw Gay look them up and down.

"I'm Gay."

The two gals looked at each other with bigger smiles.

"I'm gay also," said the platinum blonde, taking charge, "this is Tex. I'm Emily, or you can call me Em."

"Oh, I thought you were Gay."

"I am gay. I just told you that."

"Okay Gay, Tex, nice to meet you."

"I'm gay too," said the strawberry blonde, extending her hand.

"Okay, I'm confused," said Gay, shaking her hand, "how can there be so many Gays here?"

Emily smiled. "We're very receptive here to alternative lifestyles. And your name is...?"

Gay paused for a moment.

"I'm Gay."

Emily turned slightly towards Tex and whispered "I think she's been out in the sun too long."



Chapter 3

The three women took the elevator to the third floor, which was the residence hall. Finding Gay's room, they showed her around.

"This is your private apartment," said Em, taking charge, while Tex went into the bathroom. "You won't entertain here, at least not any clients. You've got a bedroom, private bath with a great tub and a bidet. The kitchen is small but you won't be using it that often as we typically eat in the dining hall. The TV has all the channels you'd expect, plus some pretty good porn."

"How long have you been working here? Is the work hard? Are the men nice? What about..."

"Hey, slow down there, Sugar Nips, I'm not Wikipedia. You need to unwind a bit, relax, and there's plenty of reading material here that explains everything. The one thing I can tell you is, don't cross Miss E."

Gay walked over to the window and looked out. The view was expansive, but, the scenery was scrub brush, tumbleweeds, and a dust storm in the distance.

"Honey," said Em, putting her hand on Gay's shoulder, her lips close to her ear, "it's really simple. You work hard here for a few years and you'll make enough money to kick back and enjoy. And really, the works isn't that hard," continued Em, brushing her hand down Gay's back and across her ass.

"Hey, the bath is ready," announced Tex.

"Come on, Sugar, let's get you all cleaned up," said Em, taking Gay by the hand and leading her towards the bathroom.

"I can take a bath on my ... oh my!" exclaimed Gay at seeing both the huge, double-garden size bathtub and Tex already in it, her perky C-cup tits peeking out from the bubbles.

"Come on in, the water is great!"

She watched as Em stripped in just a few seconds, her 34c's and shaved pussy causing a tingle to start between Gay's legs.

"Here, don't be bashful, let me help," said Gay, pulling the zipper down on the back of the peasant dress, and helping it fall to the floor. No panties or bra blocked the view to Gay's treasure.

"Damn, girl, you have a sweet body," said Em, stepping back and looking at Gay's toned, athletic build, handful-sized tits with hard, pointed nipples, and a trimmed, blonde bush.

Gay blushed and not knowing what else to do, stepped into the tub and sat down into the steamy, hot water. Em followed quickly.

Tex reached for the plush washcloth and squirted some shower gel onto it. Gay noticed the name.

"Jurlique?"

"It's a special blend from the company, not available to the public. Everything they do for us is top-class, Sugar," answered Em, lathering up Gay's back while Tex attended to her chest.

They both heard a small moan as the washcloth moved vigorously over her extended nipples.

"Feel good, honey?" asked Tex, smiling.

"Yessss...my, um, nipples are very sensitive."

"Really?" said Tex, who then dove towards one with her mouth, capturing it, then surrounding it with her front teeth, and flicking her tongue back and forth over it rapidly.

"Oh Jesus!" exclaimed Gay, who then felt Em's mouth clamp down on the side of her neck, teeth making contact, mouth sucking, tongue dancing...just for a second though, so not to leave any lingering marks.

Both girls let go at the same time, went back to cleaning a day and a half's worth of travel off of her upper torso, then made her stand up. More cleaning of her long legs, with nippings here and there at her tummy, thighs and butt. When they were finished with her, the two girls took hold of the faucet handles and pulled. They released and much like their counterparts in the kitchen, the hand-held devices, connected by water hoses, provided a powerful stream of water to rinse Gay and then each of the two girls.

Fluffy oversized Egyptian cotton towels provided the necessary drying, and then all three moved into the adjacent bedroom and on top of the California king-sized bed. Pushing Gay onto her back, Em launched a sexual attack on her nipples, alternating between the two, licking, nibbling, sucking, and generally doing her best to drive the new girl crazy with desire.

Tex found a place between Gay's legs that needed attention. She started by running her tongue lightly up and down the outer lips, up one side, down the other. As she saw Gay's clit start to engorge, she moved to it, just touching it lightly, teasing little jabs much like a boxer to his opponent, though with a much different result. The moans from Gay were music to Tex's ears, and she knew that the newcomer was ripe for an orgasm.

Gay was now being kissed, and kissed hard, by Em, her tongue pressing into the reclined girl's mouth, lips moving against lips in an age-old dance of lust. Em's fingers sought out the wet nipples and began pinching them, lightly at first, but with increasing pressure. Gay moaned into her mouth, feeling ravished.

The teasing at her snatch had stopped. Tex was now working over her clit, sucking it inside her mouth, washing it again and again with her tongue, then pushing it out, only to begin again. Her fingers were rubbing alongside Gay's pussy lips, but not penetrating her.

It was the nipple pinching that set Gay off...hard, continuous pressure on both knobs as Em pulled her mouth off of Gay's, looking at her facial expression as she rocketed towards nirvana. She looked down and saw her friend and lover eating this new girl's pussy, and knew how that felt.

Gay's mouth opened in a silent rush of pleasure as Tex sucked continuously on her love button, her tongue moving rapidly like she was the energizer bunny of sex who keeps going and going. Em let go of one nipple and pushed three fingers into Gay's open mouth, forcing her to suck on them.

Tex released the clit as Gay's hips relaxed a bit, though still quivering, and moved down an inch to feast on the pussy juice that was leaking out.

Em pulled her fingers out of Gay's mouth and in a deft maneuver, swung her leg over Gay's head and brought the dewy pussy right down on her mouth.

Grabbing her hair, and slightly grinding her pussy on the girl's captured mouth, she commanded her:

"Eat me, eat my pussy, sugar."



Chapter 4

Tina looked over at the clock yet again. Sighing, she resigned herself to the evening's appointment. It wasn't that she didn't like her job. No, the sex was usually great, and the wages, well, she knew she'd never make this kind of money elsewhere.

No, what bothered her was that her regular client, the esteemed Ambassador from Italy, had to cancel out and didn't make the flight from DC, so Miss Ellen assigned her a new client, one that no one had seen before. That made her a little nervous and unsettled. She knew, of course, that she was completely safe, that the guy would be a gentleman or that he wouldn't be there in the first place. Still, having sex for the first time could be tricky.

She had another half-hour, and was dressed, so Tina decided to hit the lounge and see if anyone was there. As luck would have it, Kimiko, or Kimi as everyone called her, was sitting at a table, reading a book.

"Hey," said Tina, approaching and leaning down to kiss the pretty Japanese-American girl on the cheek.

"Hi Tina," replied Kimi with a smile, looking over her pretty brunette friend, "what'cha up to?"

"Ugh. The Italian Stallion couldn't make it out, so Miss E set me up with some new guy. Got me a little nervous."

"Oh Tina, don't you worry, hon, you'll be fine. Any guy who gets you in bed is a lucky man."

"Awww, thanks Kimi. You know just what to say to brighten my day. Hey, what's that you are reading?"

"The Red Fang. It's a vampire novel by Nicola Matthews."

"Oh, I know of her. She wrote Immortal Sins. She's great! Oh, I guess I should be off to go see who I'm going to be meeting. I hope he's at least halfway attractive."

"You go, girlfriend," said Kimi, watching her friend leave, and happy to get back into her book, which was getting her aroused.

Tina walked out of the lounge and down the hall to the elevator, selecting "5" as her choice and sliding her ID card into the slot, enabling her to get to the normally restricted floor.

Upon her arrival, the guard behind the desk looked up at her, then nodded as she moved towards "Hawaii", the room so designated because of the lush, tropical interior design. Again using her ID card, she entered the room, the smell of fresh flowers permeating her olfactory senses, the sounds of ocean waves reaching her too. She saw a man seated at the bar, and relaxed slightly. He was not quite attractive, but, not unattractive either. She sensed his masculinity, but, not in a boorish way. He seemed to be in his early 50s, though he could have been between 40-60 too. In a quick eval, he was something of an enigma.

"Please, Tina, join me," he said to Tina, motioning towards the other bar stool as she approached, his deep voice sounding friendly, and confident. She sat and saw that a Mai Tai had been prepared for her. She sipped it, a little nervous.

"Thank you for agreeing to see me," he said, "I know that it was on short notice."

She looked more closely at him. His clothes were well-tailored, his hair well-groomed, his choice of cologne well-suited to him. Tina relaxed a bit more.

"You're welcome. May I call you...?"

"Anytime you need me."

She looked at him, and then smiled at his wit.

"Please, would you dance with me?"

She nodded acceptance and he pressed a button on the multi-com system, and soothing, tropic music filled the room. While she moved to the tiled floor near the palms, he pressed in a special sequence into the keypad, which activated a sub-routine in the system's computer, and released an experimental pheromonal compound into the room's ventilation system.

After several minutes of dancing, Tina felt herself getting aroused. At first she attributed it to the room, her job, and that she was coming off her quarterly week of inactivity. But as she moved her head back and looked up at him, she realized that she REALLY wanted him!

She parted her lips slightly and he took her up on that invitation, leaning down to kiss her. Wasting no time, she moved her tongue into his mouth, taking her hands and cupping his head in them. She then felt his growing hardness pressing against her, and his hands as they moved from her lower back to her small, tight ass. He pulled her closer, and she felt his bulge grow bigger.

"Jesus," she thought to herself, "my pussy is really getting wet. I need this guy inside of me."

Breaking the kiss, she took his hand and led him to the large bed and pushed him back on it. Kissing him again, this time with more urgency and passion, she unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off of him. She then knelt down and removed both of his shoes and socks. Then she rose and smiling at him, pulled her dress up and over and her head, tossing it on the floor. She was left wearing black thigh highs, and matching black panties and bra. She reached around and unclasped the bra, watching him watch her. The bra fell, and her pert breasts with pretty pink nipples popped out into view.

She so wanted to tease him, dance for him naked, but her pussy was begging for some action. She dropped her panties, revealing her brown, trimmed bush and now wet pussy.

He started to reach for his belt buckle but she beat him to it.

"No, let me, please," said Tina, unbuckling it, and then dropping to her knees so that she'd have the leverage to pull his pants down and off, which she did.

"Next, his underwear," she thought, "and then I can get at his cock."

She looked up and was startled, twice. First, she saw that he went commando, and so there was no underwear. But that was nothing to the surprise at the size of his cock.

Not at all fully hard, it was still larger and thicker than any she could remember. He reached for her head with one hand, grasped her hair and pulled her face to his crotch. She inhaled his manly scent and felt her nipples engorge.

"Suck my cock, Tina," he said in a voice that urged her to comply.

Her tongue snaked out and licked a wet trail up his nut sack. Continuing on, she licked the shaft, her hands gripping his thighs. When she reached the head, she paid special attention to the spot just below it, and felt his hand grip her hair tighter as her tongue whipped to and fro, his cock becoming very hard and full with blood.

Tina used one hand to take hold of his shaft, her hand not reaching fully around it, but still holding it steady as her mouth opened and descended, taking inch aftern inch inside, her eyes on his the whole time. She could not take it all, not a chance. She considered herself an excellent fellatrice, but even an expert has a limit. She suctioned deeply as she slid her lips upwards, tongue licking the underside of the shaft the whole time. When she reach the head, she reversed direction, once again taking the unusually large cock deep into her mouth, the head of it pressing against her throat.

Not wanting to take any chances on him shooting in her mouth (although she thought dreamily about what the thick load might taste like, and how much of it there might be to swallow), she eased off and then spoke to him.

"Please, I need this inside me."

Having let go of her hair, he motioned her up with his hand, and watched as she positioned herself atop him. Looking at her pussy, he knew it was going to be a tight squeeze to get inside of her.

"Go slow," he suggested, but she was in no mental state to listen. The pheromonal spray was most definitely affecting her system.

Holding his cock steady, he watched as she tried to impale herself on it. He wasn't watching her pussy. He was watching her face. He saw her eyes get big as the head popped inside of her, then watched her squeeze them shut and scrunch up her face as she slid down his shaft. He was amazed at how tight her pussy felt around his cock, and she felt like she was sitting on a baseball bat.

When she hit bottom and realized that she had taken all of him inside of her, a silly smile appeared on her face, which like the rest of her was coated in a fine sheen of perspiration, both from the struggle to get the horse-like cock inside of her, and from the higher humidity of the Hawaii room.

"Feels good having all of you inside of me," she cooed to him.

"Really?" he replied, then smiled himself as he removed his hand that was holding his cock in place, exposing the additional four inches of thick shaft.

Tina felt her pussy start to slide downward slowly, her labia being stretched wide.

Then in a fast, yet controlled, movement, he took hold and swung her onto the bed while moving over top of her, staying fastened. She gasped at the thought of him plunging the rest of his thick cock into her.

"Relax," he said in that confident manner, and instead of further impaling her, he withdrew several inches, and then gently slid back inside, withdrew a few inches, and again slid back into her.

She felt his rhythm and tried to relax her muscles a bit. Slowly, she felt him going a little deeper. She spread her legs wider and tried wrapping them up and around him. When he squeezed both of her nipples, she felt him slip another inch inside of her.

"God," she thought to herself, "this guy is more hung like a horse than even her Italian Stallion."

Reaching between them with a hand, he found her clit and gently rubbed it. At first she moaned and her pussy squeezed his cock tight, but then she loosened a bit, and with that continued thrusting, he was able to accomplish his goal of feeling himself balls deep inside of her.

"Oh God, I'm gonna' cum," she said, her voice coming in gasps of air as his pistioning cock would pull out until the head was just inside of her stretched, pulpy lips, and then dive straight inside, not stopping until his balls smacked up against her exposed asshole. Again and again he repeated the movements, feeling Tina's pussy spasm around him.

As she came down slightly from her mind-crashing orgasm, she begged him, "Please, let me taste you. Cum in my mouth, please?!"

He pulled out of her pussy, the head coming out with a popping sound, then moved up on the bed, his legs straddling her chest as he leaned forward and brought his flaring cockhead to her lips.

She quickly engulfed him, one hand cupping and gently squeezing his large balls, the other moving down to her drenched pussy. Her mouth moved rapidly back and forth, technique thrown out the window in favor of bringing him off quickly. After coating her fingers with slimy pussy juice, she brought one up between his legs and finding his opening, pressed one inside of him, and then quickly adding a second.

Feeling her fingers thrusting into his ass was the catalyst. The cum erupted from the end of his cock and shot into her mouth. There wasn't much room in there to start with, his cock easily the largest that she'd ever blown, and while she swallowed as much and as quickly as she could, some still managed to leak out and onto her face.

He finally stopped shooting and thrusting. She removed her fingers and they both collapsed on the bed in post-coital lethargy.

It was her first time meeting Mr. H., and he wasn't finished with her. Not by a long shot.



Chapter 5

"Life is good," thought Sheriff Don to himself, feeling his balls being gently sucked by Miss Ellie, as he liked to call her in private. He knew that his job wouldn't last forever, but he planned on milking it for as long as he could. Speaking of milking...

"You can start now, Miss Ellie."

With a smile from her eyes as her mouth was full, Miss Ellen squirted a generous amount of strawberry-flavored lube onto Sheriff Don's fat cock with her left hand, and then began stroking it slowly with her right.

It was the same routine pretty much every visit with the Sheriff. A nice sit-down dinner, Cowboy Ribeye, baked potato, some vegetables, and a glass or two of red wine. Then a trip to the private patio on roof, perhaps the only air-conditioned outside patio in the world, where the cold air rose from the floor to provide a refreshing respite to the harsh desert, allowing one to smoke a cigar and relax. Finally, back to the Old West Room, where the 1870's motiff made Sheriff Don feel right at home.

Sheriff Don liked it when Miss Ellie wore a frilly dress. She played the part of an Old West whore quite well. He looked down again, caught her eye, and nodded.

She gently released his balls from her mouth, wiped her hand across it (because she knew he liked that hand gesture), and then got up from her knees. He closed his legs a bit to make it easier for her, as she straddle him, taking hold of the back of the wooden chair behind his shoulders, and then settled down on top of him, her dress carefully arranged so that it wouldn't block her pussy from resting on his hard, lubed cock. She slid slowly back and forth, leaning forward to kiss him about the neck and ear. She knew to stay away from his mouth now, that he didn't want to kiss her since her mouth had just been sucking on his balls. She knew the kissing would come later.

Reaching under her long skirt with practiced hands, she took hold of his thick cock.

"You know...?" he inquired, as he always did on the first weekend of the month.

"Yes, baby, I know." She knew he'd ask, and at that exact moment. He was nothing if he wasn't predictable.

As she adjusted herself, she put the head of his cock up against her asshole, and knew that this was always the toughest part, the first couple of inches. "If his cock just wasn't so thick it'd be a lot easier," she thought to herself, not for the first time.

Using his large, rough hands, Sheriff Don popped open the front of her dress, reached in, and released her breasts to his view. As he felt Miss Ellie put some weight down, he brought one of the breasts up to his mouth and began licking and then sucking on a nipple, all the while his eyes locked on hers, waiting.

"There," he thought, seeing her mouth open and a gasp come out of it as he felt the head of his cock pop into her ass.

"God, you're so big," she said, meaning it, as his thick cock slid a few inches deeper into her ass. She kept applying pressure and weight, sinking further onto the thick spike until she bottomed out. She could feel her clit rubbing against his thick tract of pubic hair, so she ground against him, sending shivers through her body as her ass tried in vain to adjust to what felt like a telephone pole up inside of it.

Sheriff Don smiled. He loved his once-a-month ass fucking sessions with Miss Ellie. No other woman had ever let him inside their backdoor, but she had. She limited him to once-a-month, she said, because it took that long for her ass to recover. He thought she was exaggerating a bit for his benefit, but he accepted her explanation good naturedly.

Reaching around her, her took one ass cheek in each hand and lifted her a bit, his strength an asset, as a few inches of cock slipped out. Then he pulled her back down onto him, thrusting upward. He heard her again speak to her maker. He withdrew again, and again shoved his cock deep inside her ass. He was in control now, her ass wrapped tightly around his lubed cock, his balls full with a week's worth of cum looking for an escape route.

After several more thrusts he started to get up, and she knew what was coming. She almost giggled at the double entendre, but thought it might distract him, so she instead just threw her arms around his neck and held on as he carried her, impaled, over to the stage coach, crushing her up against it.

This was the part he liked best, her body squeezed between him and the coach. He withdrew until just the fat head of his cock was inside her ass tube, then thrust with all his strength, burying all eight thick inches deep inside of her. He heard her cry out, pain or pleasure or both, he wasn't sure. He again withdrew and thrust balls deep, again hearing her cry out.

"Rub...yourself..." he commanded to her, between strokes.

He liked when she reached down between them and touched herself. It seemed dirty to him, and turned him on. Plus, when she got hers, that ass of hers would tighten down like a vise, he remembered.

Miss Ellen reached down and started rubbing her clit quickly, knowing her was just a few strokes away. She felt the thrusts coming faster...God...he did have a wonderful cock.

Sheriff Don seized one of her erect nipples into his mouth and bit down on it, not enough to hurt, but enough to help send her over the edge.

"Goddddddddddddd yessssss, I'm cummmmmmmmming," she cried out, her pussy spasming, and more importantly, at least to the Sheriff, her ass contracted around his cock, like one of those cow milking machines that he'd eyeballed as a kid.

Grunting, he thrust deep inside once again as his thick baby-making juice shot out, adding to the lubricant already inside her, making his repeated thrusts that much faster. Six, seven, eight thrusts, filling her and then some.

As his orgasm subsided, using reserves that most men didn't have, Sheriff Don carried Miss Ellen, still impaled on his hard but sated cock, over to a cot where he lay her down, his greasy cock sliding out of her. He covered her with a blanket, her eyes half-closed, then went into the bathroom to take a shower. "It may have been the Old West room," he thought, "but the bathroom was quite modern, thankfully."

"Yes, life is good," he thought, stepping into the cool spray.


Chapter 6

Gliding down the hall to his office, "Life is good," thought Jack to himself. As he approached the door, he looked at the nameplate like he did every other morning, and grinned: Dr. Jack A. Tails, Physician.

Opening the door, he mentally reviewed his lite schedule for the day. Couple of prescription refills, check on Miss Jessica's tennis elbow strain, and yes, the new girl. He loved new girl exams.

Being a long-time friend of Mr. H. and long-time resident doctor, he was privvy to most things going on here. Although he had the look and demeanor of the stereotypical absent-minded professor, he was far from it. That persona worked well as disarming people, but behind those eyes was a mind that was sharpened years ago at Cal-Tech and MIT. Research was his true passion, and his discovery of the missing element of the pheromonal compound was nothing short of genius. He knew the product would be worth a small fortune, but there was also the chance that how he discovered it might be uncovered, so by tacit agreement with Mr. H., the spray would remain a secret, at least for now.

A knock on the door awoke him from his reverie. "Come in," he said, and watched as the new girl entered, looking a bit nervous.

After staring a few seconds, she said, "I'm here for the physical. I'm Gay."

"Not after I get done with you," said Jack, under his breath, then continued, using his authoritative tone, "I'm Dr. Tails. Nice to meet you. Please go ahead into the examination room and remove your clothes. I'll be in shortly."

"Yes, Doctor."

Gay entered the room and found it oddly comforting. The walls had murals of sandy beaches and palm trees, and she could hear the waves of the oceans against a beach. There were quite a few flowers and small trees in the room too. The examination table looked different, but she didn't give it much thought.

Doc Tails was watching her from his office, the closed-circuit television system his own idea. He sucked in his breath a bit as he saw her remove her blouse and skirt, leaving her clad in a small, red bra and panty set. As she undid the bra and released her breasts, he felt the stirring start between his legs. It continued when her pussy came into view. He watched her look around, then get up onto the table. It was time.

Wheeling into the exam room, preferring a manual wheelchair to those sissy electric ones, Jack pulled up close to the table as Gay looked at him. Pressing a button on a remote, she felt the table sinking towards the floor. After several seconds it stopped, and she realized that this would give Dr. Tails a better angle to examine her.

He began by examining her breasts, first one, then the other. The light pinch of the nipples caught Gay by surprise and she questioned him.

"I've never had a Doctor pinch my nipples before."

"And, you've never worked at a place like this before either, I'll bet," was his reply. "We need to make sure that all of your parts are in working order. Now here, put this over your nose and mouth," he said, handing her what appeared to be an oxygen-assisting facial mask, "and breath deeply through your nose, only. Keep your mouth closed. This is to test your lung capacity."

Gay put the device on her face, and, wanting to score often, er, high, she took half a dozen deep breaths before the Doctor told her to stop. She felt a little lightheaded and mentioned it to him, but he told her it would pass.

When he wheeled towards the end of the examination table, she realized why it was shaped so unusually. It was to allow access to his wheelchair between the legs of his patients. She flushed somewhat at the thought and hoped that it would be over quickly.

She had no reason to believe otherwise.

She was so wrong.


Chapter 7

Miss Ellen looked once again at her Rolex, a gift from Mr. H., and felt her blood pressure rise a little higher. It wasn't the first time that Snoochies was late for an appointment, but, Miss Ellen thought, it might be one of the last.

Her iPhone buzzed; a text message had arrived. Snoochies. Apologizing. In the elevator. Sorry.

"Gentlemen," she spoke to the three Japanese men who were standing off to the side, sipping fruit drinks, "if you will accompany me?"

She led them over to the elevator, which opened as if on cue. Inside was a gorgeous, light-skinned African-American women, dressed in gold, mid-thigh length dress with a plunging neckline. At five and one-half feet tall, she was about the same height as the three guys who got into the elevator with her. She looked at them. All three were studying her 36c chest.

"Gentlemen, your flight leaves in two hours. Please enjoy your morning!"

Miss Ellen watched the door close and ascension begin. "Well, at least they seemed in good spirits," she thought as she moved on to her next task for the morning.

Snoochies made small talk with the three men until they entered the Caveman Room. Decked out with rocks, dirt, scraggly trees, and a small bonfire, it looked straight out of the year 10,000 BC. The most dominating feature was the large "cave" and inside of it was a large, flat rock. (The rock was actually a large bed with a rock-like look bedcover.)

The men began yelling, which started Snoochies.

"What the fuck are you..." and then she realized that they were just being in character as they were tearing their clothes off, beating their chests, and making threatening gestures towards one another.

In just half a minute they were standing naked before her. Looking at her. Her clothes.

"Wait, just wait a goddamned min..." she said, then tried to turn and run, but they were all over her, grabbing her arms and tearing at her dress. She was surprised at their strength. Seconds later, she too was naked, and one lifted her and threw her over his shoulder, carrying her into the cave.

"Well," she thought to herself, "better this than dragging me by my hair."


Chapter 8

Jack thought it had been an awful long time since he had seen a pussy so pretty on his exam table.

He had Gay's legs in the stirrups and had moved close to look at her. The outer lips flared, revealing rose-colored inner lips, and the hint of what lay inside. The clit, he noticed, was becoming more prominent. He knew she was getting aroused. The spray, again, was working.

He reached out and traced a finger across her light brown pussy hair, down over the hood that partially covered her clit, down between the moist lips, and then pushed inside of her. He heard her moan.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly, embarrassed, but feeling like her pussy was being slowly set on fire.

"It's okay," replied Jack, "it's a natural reaction. Part of your exam is to see how susceptible you are to sexual stimulation."

Gay, her brain short-circuiting due to the pheromonal-induced sexual overload, thought this made perfect sense.

She moaned again as Dr. Tails removed his finger. She didn't see him bring it first to his nose, to inhale her aroma, and then to his mouth, so he could taste her.

"Nothing better that Grade A pussy in the morning," he thought. He rubbed his finger against her clit and this time she moaned louder and her legs tried to move.

"Start rubbing your nipples, and squeezing them. We need to test your SSQ, your Sexual Stimulation Quotient."

"Yes, Doctor," said Gay, who then started rolling her nipples between her fingers, slowing, trying not to stimulate herself too much. She was afraid of having an orgasm on the doctor's examining table. She felt the Doctor insert two fingers inside of her pussy and continuing rubbing her clit in slow circles.

Jack listened to her moans increasing, and knew the time was ripe, just like her sweet, peach-syrupy pussy. Withdrawing his fingers, he moved as close as he could, then leaned forward until his lips touched her lips. His tongue surged forward, dipping inside of her, seeking more sustenance.

"Oh God!" said Gay outloud, and then thought to herself, "he's eating my pussy. Ohhhhhh, I'm just going to cum, I know it!"


Chapter 9

Snoochies knew it was going to be a gangbang. She just wasn't sure how they were going to approach it. Not that it mattered. She'd handled eight men once, so these three she figured would be pretty easy to deal with.

They had her on her back, on the "rock-bed", one guy at her face, his cock inside her succulent lips and mouth. Another guy was between her legs, slurping away at her pussy as if it was his last meal. The third guy was sucking on a nipple, alternating between both of them.

It didn't take long before the first guy was yelling "Banzai!!" and cumming in her mouth. His cock wasn't all that large, so she was able to take it and the cum he shot without a problem, swallowing his load and not missing a drop.

The guy who was sucking her tits moved up and put his cock into her mouth. He immediately starting thrusting face. "He's a face-fucker," she thought, and just relaxed her mouth so he could go at his own speed. She felt the bed move and then the guy who had been eating her was now inside of her, sawing away at her pussy with short, fast strokes. After perhaps a minute or so, he pulled on her and rolled her over on top of him. She managed to keep the guy she was fellating in her mouth. Now both of them began stroking her quickly again.

With all of the movement, what she didn't notice was the third guy, the one who had already cum in her mouth. He was on the side, out of her view. And he was adding lube to his still hard cock.

Moving onto the bed, he tapped his buddy's leg, signaling he was ready. From underneath Snoochies, two arms appeared and wrapped around her body, bringing her down closer to him, and somewhat forcing her ass up into the air.

Putting his well-greased cock in position, the man behind Snoochies pushed forward just as they were pushing back. There are certain times when a skinnier cock works better, and a surprise anal ambush is one of those times.

The head of his cock popped right inside of Snoochies ass without warning. Her eyes flew open and she tried to say something, but the "team" was well-prepared. The man in her mouth had hold of her curly dark red hair and wouldn't let her mouth leave his cock. The man underneath, his cock buried deep inside of her, held on tightly, not giving her the leverage needed to move away from the anal invasion. And the man in her ass, well, he just continued pushing forward, sinking all six inches inside of her until he was balls deep.

Then all three of them began to withdraw at the same time, and then a thrust. Then a withdrawal, and then a thrust. They knew it would just be a few more seconds and all the pain would disappear and be replaced with pleasure.


Chapter 10

Jack felt Gay's lips tighten around his cock, her tongue rubbing along it in a polishing motion.

After bringing her to a strong climax with his tongue and fingers, he wheeled himself around to the other end of the table. Pressing two buttons on the remote, he caused the end of the exam table nearest him to sink lower, and caused the other end to raise somewhat. Also, the area to the left and right of where Gay's head was resting retreated into the floor. This enabled Jack to move his chair forward. Having opened his zipper, his cock sprang forth, looking for attention.

Attention was what it was getting. Gay felt an overwhelming desire to suck the cum from his balls. It was something along the lines of a primal urge, almost a survival instinct. While her mouth was sucking and her tongue was licking, one hand moved between her legs, getting her hand wet with her own juices. She then moved it to his balls, coating them with her moisture. Her other hand went straight for her clit.

She pushed harder with her face, her head upside down, her nosed pressed against his belly. She was having a hard time breathing in that position, but that wasn't important to her. Tasting his cum was all that mattered.

Jack reached forward and found both of her nipples and began pinching them, feeling the cum churning inside of him. Between watching her play with her pussy, her hand on his balls, and her mouth suctioning him, he was seconds from shooting. He pinched down hard on her nipples, making her moan with pleasure/pain. The moaning around his cock did it.

Rope after thick rope of salty cum passed from his cock into her mouth as she climaxed for a second time, drinking him completely dry.


Chapter 11

Kimi had planned on taking the day off but the anonymous little note that she had received had wrecked her plans. She was all jittery and flustered, and scared. She read it again, for the fifth time.

"I know about the $35,000. I have proof too. I can go the authorities. Or, you can meet me in The Dungeon at 10am. Naked. There will be a blindfold there. You will wear it. If you try and discover my identity, the deal is off and I'll expose you."

She couldn't imagine that this was happening...to her...here, of all places. Here, where she felt say and sound. She had debated calling or texting her boyfriend, but, since their relationship was a secret, she didn't want to get him involved.

Resigning herself, she left her room and made for the elevator. She'd be racking her brain, trying to figure out who was doing this to her. It had to be someone who worked her, because rooms like The Dungeon were restricted access. It could be a guest, but that was pretty far-fetched.

Once she arrived at the room, she let herself in. It was, she admitted, a work of art. Dark, damp, with an old smell that while not unpleasant, wasn't pleasant either. The stone-like interior had several jail-like cells, and leaky water could be heard. She saw the blindfold. Sighing, she removed the clothes from her petite body. At just two inches over five feet and barely 100 pounds, she was small, but she was proud of her body. Finally, she put on the blindfold.

Just seconds later a hand gripped her arm and startled her. It pulled her towards the right, and she followed.

"Don't hurt me," she said, somewhat submissively, "please."

"Quiet," came the reply, an unusual voice, tinny, sounding like a robot.

She heard a noise and then was forced to bend forward somewhat. Then she felt something around the back of her neck, forcing her forward. Her arms were similarly restrained. It took her a second, but she figured it out. She was being held in stocks, a medieval device.

"Look, stop this now. I'll pay you mon..."

Kimi felt a hand land sharply on her ass, stinging and taking her breath away.

"No talk."

Resigning herself to getting this over with, she waited for his next move.

It didn't take long. She felt his hands on her ass, separting what small cheeks she had. Then she felt something cold, wet and hard pushing against her asshole. It popped inside and went what she thought was about four inches inside of her. She guessed it was a hard rubber buttplug.

She guessed poorly.

She sensed movement in front of her, and a couple of seconds later, her short, reddish-brown hair was grasped, and a cock was presented to her lips. She opened them, but because of the stocks, she could do nothing else. The cock was thrust forward, and she closed her mouth, trying to stop it from entering too deep.

That wasn't to be. The owner of the cock kept pushing forward, forcing her to take more until she started to gag. He then retreated a couple of inches. Then he pushed forward again, and felt her gag. He again retreated. Then, unbeknownst to her, he started pumping a bulb in his hand, which was connected to the device in her ass by a long, thin tube. The pumping caused air to start to fill the bladder inside of the device, which expanded.

Kimi felt something happening in her ass and forgot temporarily about the cock in her mouth.


Chapter 12

Snoochies had lost track of how many orgasms she'd had. It felt to her like she was on a continuous rollercumcoaster. The initial pain in her ass had passed, and now the "team" was working like a well-disciplined machine. They'd been fucking for about fifteen minutes as best she could tell, and they seemed quite pleased with themselves, making the "Great Snoochies", as she was known throughout the Japanese Embassy, cum again and again.

Knowing that she needed to get done so that she could rest for her afternoon appointment and not be totally worn out, she decided to take matters into her own hands. She stopped moving her mouth and instead took the cock in all the way to the root. Then she started to gargle. It was a technique she was taught a few years ago by Miss Ellen, and it never failed to produce results. The gargling sound made it seem like she was choking on the guy's cock, and the vibrations would inevitably send him over the edge.

On cue, she felt the guy grab hold of her hair again and release into her mouth, filling it with his warm semen. She swallowed twice, and then released his cock.

She then slid forward and off of the two cocks that were impaling her pussy and ass. Quickly turning around, she grabbed one cock in each hand and started jerking them, bringing her face close. The two guys grinned as they realized what she wanted. They both started to yell and beat their chests and within a minute, both of them shot their loads onto her face and breasts, covering her with their seed.

As she stood up to go into the bathroom and clean up, she thought "All in a day's work."


Chapter 13

Kimi felt her ass being stretched by the inflating butt plug. With each pump of the bulb, more air was forced inside of it, and inside of her. With her mind on her ass, she didn't concentrate on keeping the cock out of her throat. It was just what her assailant expected as he slid his cock forward, pushing the head of it into her throat which was angled perfectly for such a manuever.

Kimi snapped back to reality, feeling the cockhead blocking her air supply. She heard her tormentor say "Breathe through nose" in that creepy, metallic voice.

"Not so fuckin' easy," she thought to herself, "when you've got a telephone pole in your ass."

The cockhead stayed in place and she concentrated on breathing. She knew her cocksucking skills were easily on par with anyone working here and that deep throating was just another tool in her arsenal.

As she forced herself to relax, air arrived in her struggling lungs. This relaxed her throat muscles, and when he felt that, W.S. Fun slid his cock one more inch inside of it.

Six weeks ago, he overheard Kimi having a conversation with Tina about an investment gone bad. It was supposed to be a legal loophole through an offshore investment company, but it turned out to be an illegal one. Within a week he had hacked her laptop and found out all of the details and made a copy of them.

It wasn't that he didn't like Kimi, he thought while giving the bulb another squeeze and feeling her jump, it was just that it was difficult to take working here with all of these hot women and him getting no pussy. He was a good-looking man, built solidly, no falling down the ugly tree for him, but rules were rules: the girls weren't allowed to fornicate with other staff.

"Fornicate," he laughed to himself, feeling Kimi's throat reflexively squeezing and releasing around his cockhead, "that was the actual word used in the memo. What kinda' old-fashioned word is that?"

Kimi had taken her fair share of cocks in her ass, but this was different. No roughness, no painful entry, but instead a very large, very wide presence. It actually felt good. And even though she wasn't happy about the circumstances, she could feel her pussy getting moist. The guy in her mouth was being forceful, which she liked, but he wasn't hurting her.

W.S. pulled back, first out of Kimi's throat, then out of her mouth completely. He moved around behind her, adjusted a valve on the bulb he was holding, and released most of the air inside the plug's bladder, shrinking it considerably. He did it so that he could get into Kimi's pussy easier. He'd heard she was pretty tight.

Tossing the bulb and hose over his shoulder, he used both hands to steady her hips as he moved forward, the tip of his cock pushing between her pussy lips. Moving his right hand around her, he passed through her trademarked heart-shaped trimmed bush until he found her pussy, and then her clit, which he began rubbing with two fingers in slow circles.

Kimi moaned involuntarily, feeling his cock sliding inside of her. She was torn between the good feelings between her legs, and the anger at being used like this. Each thrust, however, softened one of those feelings and intensified the other.

Firmly into his fucking rhythm, W.S. released her hip and once again took hold of the bulb. As he thrust inside of the hot, saucy bitch, he gave the bulb a squeeze. He didn't notice anything until about the fifth or sixth squeeze and then he felt it, a little pressure against the top of his cock. He could tell Kimi was feeling it because with each thrust and squeeze, he heard a soft grunting sound come from her.

Another squeeze, and another, and yet another. The expansion inside her ass continued.

"Oh God...," she cried out, the combination of the clit rubbing, the cock thrusting and the fullness in her ass pushing her close to paradise.

W.S. was there too, her tight pussy walls collapsing in a quick pulsing soaked rhythm around him. He squeezed the bulb in rapid cadence and rubbed her clit faster as the sperm shot from the end of his cock, buried deep inside of her.


Chapter 14

Seated in his 7th floor office, Mr. H. was using his ultra-high definition monitoring system to check in on his stable. He tried to do this at least once every day to stay in touch and be sure there were no problems brewing.

One hand rested on his remote, which had first tuned in to Emily's room. He watched briefly as Tex was slowly sucking on Emily's strap-on. He averted his eyes for a moment to the woman between his legs, quietly nursing on his cock, his other hand resting on her head.

It was a semi-regular event for Miss Ellen. She loved sucking his huge horse-cock, and dinner before fellation gave them an opportunity to discuss the upcoming week's events. To her, this was dessert.

Switching channels, Mr. H. saw Tina taking a nap. After she had swallowed his load the previous evening, he had positioned her doggy style and treated her to a long, hard pounding into the night that left her senseless. Her schedule showed that she had two appointments during the day, and one later in the evening, so he wasn't surprised that she was resting.

Miss Ellen had about half of his cock in her mouth, he noticed, and he knew what she was doing. She was going to slowly suck the cum out of him by taking an inch more inside of her sweet mouth every minute, until she had completely engulfed him. She was the only woman he'd met who could take every inch into her mouth and throat.

Snoochies, he saw, was relaxing in a tub full of bubbles, chatting away on her cell phone. She, like the others, had been here long enough to merit cell phone use. With a press of a button, he could activate sound in her room and listen in to what she had to say, but he didn't. He knew that his SI (Signals Intelligence), located two floors underground, would be intercepting and recording all transmissions in and out of the embassy, and that if anything amiss was said, he'd get a report.

He looked down and saw that she had a little more than two thirds of his cock in her mouth. A few seconds ago, he felt his cockhead move past her mouth and enter her throat. He loved that part. And it never stopped amazing him that she could so easily take him orally.

Remembering something he wanted to check on, he keyed "staff" vs. "ladies" and clicked a channel. Ah, there was Jessica, with one of the sentry guards. She was on top of him, riding his cock, her large breasts in his hands. "Thought I saw something between them," thought Mr. H. to himself.

It was getting difficult to concentrate on the monitoring, as three quarters of his cock was now inside Miss Ellen's talented mouth and throat. He squirmed just a bit, and then pressed a couple of buttons to get back to his girls. Kimi was now in view. She was reading a book while curled up on her loveseat. Using a zoom control, Mr. H. got a closer view.

"Huh!" he exclaimed. Miss Ellen's eyes opened and looked up at him inquisitively, her lips tightly stretched around him.

"No, nothing...don't stop," said Mr. H. She obediently closed her eyes and resumed her ingestion of cockmeat.

What surprised him was the author of the book that Kimi was reading, Nicola Matthews. He had met Nikki last year in New York City. She was attending a writer's conference and he was in town on business. He found out that she had divorced her husband because he'd been cheating on her, and when he'd expressed an interest in having dinner with her, she at first had declined, but then changed her mind when she discovered that he had a long-standing interest in vampires. After dinner in the newly opened and renovated Crystal Room in Tavern on the Green, and horse-drawn coach ride through Central Park, she had invited him back to her hotel room, where they spent the rest of the evening and wee hours of the morning making love.

Looking down, he saw that Miss Ellen had taken almost all of his cock. But there was one last room to check on.

Gay, he saw, was watching a porn channel and masturbating furiously with a hair brush handle.

"I'm gonna' have to talk to Doc about watching how much spray he's giving the girls," he thought, surprised that she was still that horny. Well, he'd planned on visiting her later that evening, so maybe it was a good thing.

Miss Ellen was looking up at him when he looked down. He saw that she had his entire cock inside of her mouth. It still amazed him. He nodded, and leaned his head back, closing his eyes. And now the game would begin.

The "game", as he thought of it, was their struggle against each other. She would try her best to make him cum, using all of her tricks and talents, and he would do his best to hold off for as long as he could. Five minutes was the goal. If he could last more than five minutes, it was a victory for him. He'd done it several times over the past year, but more often than not, he didn't last that long. His ultimate goal was ten minutes, which she had assured him several years ago would never, ever happen. She seemed so confident that he asked that if he did manage to hold off, would she take his cock in her ass? She blanched, but then regained her confidence and said yes, but that she wouldn't have to worry...it'd never happen. He had his hopes.

Ellen knew that she'd win. She almost always did. Aside from her talent as a fellator at heart, she knew he'd want to go visit the new girl, and was probably thinking about her.

Tightening her lips around his stalk, she suctioned inward, her tongue busy licking the underside. She'd give him a minute, and then she'd really work him over. She simply loved sucking cock. More than getting eaten, or getting fucked. In a world dominated by men, it was, in her mind, the one true equalizer. Get a man in your mouth, and the rest of him would be putty in your hands. She knew that Mr. H. was putty in no man's hands, but she also knew that she could obtain favors or get help for her girls when they did something dumb.

He knew she liked torturing him this way...not moving her lips, but just sucking and tonguing. He tried thinking about other things, motor vehicle accidents, Senator Gornsten's ugly bitch of a wife, even his own mother. It seemed to work. Well, at least until she started swallowing.

Ellen had long ago mastered the ability to swallow reflexively around a cock. She knew that the wet, fluttering movement of her throat collapsing repeatedly against the side and head of a cock would be just the physical stimulation it would need. And then there was the mental stimulation, the man's brain getting the auditory signals that a woman was literally choking on his cock.

"Godddddddddd!!!" he exclaimed, taking hold of her hair with both of his hands as he emptied his balls into her throat on its way to her belly. Thick strands shot out as her gurgling continued, Ellen reaching her own orgasm from just sucking the monster cock.


Chapter 15

Gay was basking in the afterglow of her third, self-induced orgasm of the evening. She was surprised that she still felt horny. She'd been thinking about the previous day, when she'd had the threesome with Emily and Tex. She recalled Emily straddling her face and then the first time she'd tasted her pussy. It was a subtle taste, not overpowering like some girls, and slightly sweet. She had feasted on the beautiful woman through several orgasms. The whole time Tex was between her legs, eating her pussy, licking her asshole, fingering her, just driving her insane. At one point Tex had moved up and was licking Em's ass while Gay was eating her pussy.

"Mmmmmmmmmmmm...." she murmured, reaching her hand down between her legs again. Just then there was a knock at the door.

"Fuck," she said, getting up and pulling on a light bathrobe. Opening the door, she was startled to see a man there, expecting it to be one of the other girls.

"Yes?"

"Good evening, Gay. I'm Mr. H. May I come in?"

Gay's eyes got big. Mr. H.? Coming to see her. Ohmigod.

"Yes, please come in, it's your place, well, I mean, you own it, or you're the Ambassador, so I guess it is yours, and, oh, I'm just babbling, I'm sorry..." said Gay, quite flustered.

Mr. H. entered and while moving towards a chair to sit down, pressed a button on a remote in his pants pocket. He looked at the large screen tv and saw that two men were making a sandwich out of a red-headed girl. He looked at Gay, who saw what he was looking at.

"Shit!" she screamed to herself, "I left the porn channel on!" She quickly turned it off, flushing beet red.

"I'm sorry, Mr. H., I was, um, surfing channels and that one came on and then you knocked at the door and...." It was just then that Gay accidentally kicked the vibrator that was on the floor next to the sofa, and it shot across the tile floor, hit a table leg, and turned on, now doing the vibration dance and leaving a wet, visible trail of pussy juice.

"Oh, God!" exclaimed Gay, who sat on the sofa, buried her still beet red face in her hands and started sobbing.

Mr. H. leaned down and shut off the vibrator, then went over and stood next to Gay, putting his hand on her heading and trying to comfort her.

"There, there, it's okay, Gay," he said, and watched as she continued sobbing but put her arms around him, and hiding her face from view in his clothing. She didn't realize it at that moment, but what she had done is bury her face into his crotch. The vibrations from her sobs against his groin caused a physical reaction in Mr. H....he began to get hard!

When she felt the growing movement, Gay opened her eyes a bit and then realized she had her arms wrapped around him, and was holding his ass. She was aroused by this, suddenly, and then realized that her face was pressed up against his bulge, a bulge that was continuing to get larger.

"Unzip me," he said, using his Ambassador voice.

Gay let go of his ass and without thinking further, pulled down his zipper, the pheromones once again supercharging her sexual organs.

"Take it out."

She complied, reaching in with first one hand, then the other, releasing his manhood from its temporarily clothed imprisonment.

"Suck."

Her nipples hard, her clit tingly, her pussy still wet from her earlier masturbation, Gay dove on it like a starving wild animal. Just half-erect, she could see that his cock was quite thick already, and growing. She began sucking, skipping the preliminaries of licking and teasing. She sucked up and down it, moving her tongue, and reaching for his ballsack with her two hands. She wanted to suck this cock right into her stomach.

But, Mr. H. had other plans for her. What he needed to round out his stable was a totally submissive bitch, one that would please like no other. He was going to make Gay that bitch.

He pulled out of her mouth and then pulled her to a standing position, where he leaned down and took a nipple into his mouth, sucking, then chewing on it. He heard her moan and felt her knees go week. Pulling the nipple of his mouth, he kneeled down on the sofa, pulling her down behind him. Taking one hand of hers and running it between his legs and up to his cock, he got her to start jerking him off. Then he took hold of her hair, and pulled her head up against his ass.

"Lick it."

With her sex drive on overload, she gave no thought to the fact that this was the first time she'd be tossing one's salad, but instead dove in, her tongue making wet contact with his asshole as her stroking of his horse cock continued. With her other hand she massaged his balls.

He let her continue for a few more minutes, getting his cock rock hard in the process. She was licking continuously, stabbing at his asshole, licking, all the while rubbing his balls and stroking his cock. He was ready.

Standing up, he took hold of her wrist and firmly guided her around the back of the sofa. He pushed on her back, bending her at the hips so that her hands went down on the cushions to steady herself, her tits grazing against the pillows, nipples hard and throbbing.

"Don't move."

Her clit quivered at his commanding tone.

He disappeared into the kitchen area for a moment and then returned. She felt something cold press between her ass cheeks and then felt a finger enter her ass, moving around. She caught the smell, it was...butter?

"I'll show you this family's secrets!"

With thoughts of Last Tango in Paris in her head, and a desire to be fucked hard by this man, she elt him position his large, oversized cockhead against her asshole.

"Push back."

"I...I can't."

"PUSH BACK!"

Steeling herself, she gritted her teeth and pushed back. She felt her little starfish-like opening struggle against his girth. It seemed like a hopeless cause.

For his part he pulled back on her hips, putting tremendous pressure on her anal sphincter muscle, until it gave way. Three things happened in rapid succession.

First, three meaty inches of his broad cock penetrated her ass. Second, she screamed out, the momentary pain almost blacking her out. Third, he stopped advancing, wanting to give her a moment to adjust.

"Try to relax. Breathe deeply." He reached under her and began rubbing her clit, trying to exact an endorphin release in her.

Gay felt as if she were giving birth in the wrong orifice. A minute ago she wanted nothing more than to get fucked hard by this man. Now she wanted nothing more than to get the fuck away from this man!

Her struggles were in vain. She was impaled on a king-sized cock, and was pinned to the sofa. The clit rubbing was starting to help. The pheromones were kicking back in. And thank God he wasn't trying to stuff any more of it into her.

"Gay?"

"Ye..yes?," she said, meekly.

"Push back."

"What? No, please, it ..."

"Gay."

A few seconds of silence. The clit rubbing continued, maddeningly.

"Yes?" the meek voice was back.

"Push back. The pain is almost all gone."

She felt stretched, but, as she tried to clear her mind, she could tell that he was right.

"Ok."

Tentatively, he felt her push back, just a little. A half-inch of greasy cock slid into her.

"Feels good, doesn't it?"

"I guess."

"Doesn't it?" he repeated.

"Yes, your fingers too."

As she was speaking, he flexed his hips a bit, and pushed another inch inside of her hot ass.

"Oooohhh...yes." She brought her fingers back and he removed his.

Satisfied that she was ready, he began pushing forward, his hands again on her hips, guiding inch after inch inside of her. He slowed when he was halfway done, again when three-quarters of his oversized cock was inside, and then slowly but inexorably continued on until every inch was in her ass.

Her legs were quivering, and he could see some drool coming out of the side of her mouth.

He began withdrawing, looking down and watching as her anal tube gripped him. Just his head was left inside. Quickly he added more butter for her and his comfort. Then he took hold of her long, blonde tresses, and pushed forward, not stopping until his balls smacked up against her fingers.

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh....." was her response, not pain, but pleasure. She was in submissive bliss.

He fucked her. He wasn't making love to her, like he did some of the other girls. This was pure lust, pure fucking. He owned her and was using his cock and eventually his seed to brand her.

Twice he felt her cum, her asshole clenching and unclenching repeatedly. It neither slowed nor hastened his pace.

He looked down at one point and saw that she had stopped playing with her pussy and was just laying there, taking his sex. Letting go of her hair, leaning forward, he took both of her wrists, one in each hand, and pulled them close to his body, forcing her body up in the air. He increased the speed of his thrusts, using her arms for leverage.

Looking over her, he saw the both of them in the large mirror.

"Look," he commanded to her. He repeated his command, with more authority. Her eyes struggled to focus, and then did.

She realized, right then, right there, as she watched this great man pound his cock into her ass over and over again, that this is where she belonged, and as he roared and emptied his load of hot cum into her ass, she silently gave thanks to her mother.


Epilogue
--------

As the moon rose high over the land once made infamous by the Chicken Ranch, a coyote could be heard way off in the distance. It had found some bones, a human skull in fact, picked clean by the elements and time. It continued onward, searching for food.

+++

W.S. didn't hear the howl, and even if he could have, he was too busy to pay any attention to it. He was too busy studying a document he had found when he had hacked into Tina's computer...and thinking about her saucy, tight ass. Too busy to worry about much of anything...

+++

When he got back to his 7th floor residence, Mr. H. noticed the amber light on the control panel on his desk. He pursed his lips a bit and paused, then went over to his computer and pulled up a file. He sighed, then pressed a single button on his phone. It was answered quickly.

"Yes."

"I have a stone in my shoe."

Sheriff Don felt a chill run down his spine. He hadn't heard that expression from this man in a number of years.

"I understand."

The line clicked off. The Sheriff hung up the phone and thought back to the last time, and as those memories came back to him, he heard a coyote off in the distance.



Credits
-------

I'd like to thank a number of people for allowing me to include them in this story, and hope that those who weren't asked but were included aren't pissed! Any and all mistakes, miscues, screw-ups, and other issues are mine and all mine.

Thanks to Miss Ellen (Ejls), to Emily (Emily23xxx), to Tex (Liltxsmile), to Kimi (Kimiko), to Tina (Bostonmasstina), and to Snoochies (Snoochies). Appreciate your confidence in allowing me to write about you. Thanks also to Sheriff Don (donb9033), to W.S. Fun (wantsomefun), to Dr. Jack Tails (JackassTales), to CJ Wildcat (yes, that's you CJ!), to Jessica (Jessicaxx), and to Nikky (Nicola Matthews).

Finally, a special thanks, hugs, and kisses to a sweet friend, Gay (Sahara907), who helped with ideas for the story and kept me motivated. Love ya!

 

Pursuit of the Desert Goddess

This was my CAW 9 entry.

------------------------

Pursuit of the Desert Goddess

If she looked in your general direction, a feeling of intense sexual satisfaction would come over you. When she shops at Tiffany’s, they pay her to wear their diamonds. Blind women are jealous of her beauty. She doesn't drink champagne often, but when she does, she prefers Dom Perignon 1961. She is the most interesting woman in the world. Her name is Sahara, and my goal was to bed her.

CHAPTER G

It was a chance encounter that brought us together. It was a warm, summer evening over a year ago. She was dining at a waterside restaurant at one of their outdoor tables. As luck would have it, she stood up just as an oversized waiter opened a swing door, striking her and sending her toppling over the edge of the protective fence and down about 20 feet to the water below. I know because I was dining two tables away and had noticed her earlier, her striking beauty a fine compliment to the lobster I had ordered.

Aside from the obvious danger of such a fall, it so happened that this estuary was populated by several rare American crocodiles. As fate would have it, one of them was close by when she hit the water. Momentarily stunned by the impact, she lay prone, face up, but in imminent danger as the crocodile was moving rapidly towards her.

When asked later the obvious question, I replied "It was instinctual, a reaction, not something you 'think' about."

I jumped in after her, timing my leap so that I would land right on top of the reptile. I'm sure reps from PETA would have cursed me for potentially hurting the animal, but my intent was simply to startle it and dissuade it from any dining intent. It must have worked. I don't remember too much as I must have been stunned myself from the landing.

It wasn't until a week later that I received a telephone call from her.

"Mr. Gallo?"

"Yes?"

"Hello. I wanted to thank you...you saved my life the other day. At the restaurant."

"You're welcome. How did you get my number?"

"The manager at the restaurant was kind enough to provide it. I hope you don't mind."

I didn't, I just wasn't sure where this was going to go, and I was getting ready to head out for some poker."

"No, that's fine. I'm just glad you were okay."

There was a few seconds of silence.

"You don't know who I am, do you?"

"Well, no, I don't. What did you say your name was?"

"I didn't."

"Oh, well, there you go. Look, I don't mean to be rude, but I have this obligation to..."

"My net worth is several hundred million dollars."

I'll admit, that caught my attention.

"What can I do for you, Miss?"

"It's more about what I can do for you, Mr. Gallo."

"Call me Joe."

"All right, it's what I can do for you, Joe."

"And that is?"

"Anything."

That was an awfully wide range.

"Look, Miss, I don't know anything about you. You got knocked into the water, and I jumped in to save you. I didn't do it for your money because I didn't know you had money. I did it because, well, I did it..."

"You did it, Joe, because you're a very decent person. You've been good all of your life. You're a decent writer who has been looking to publish a hit novel but can't find a publishing house to bite because you can't find the time to research and write your novel. You drive a 13 year old car, like sports, and..."

"Whoa, how do you know all of this?" I asked a little crossly.

She laughed lightly.

"Easy, Joe. With money comes information. I just wanted to know a little more about you before I told you my proposition."

"Proposition? What...you wanna' marry me?" I said, laced with sarcasm.

"Hardly."

"Then what?"

"It's a two-part deal. If you succeed, I'll deposit $5 million in your bank account, and you can retire and write your novel."

There are times in one's life when the hands of God pass over you and try and lead you in the right direction. This happened several times in the past, and each time I ignored the signs because I thought I knew better. Of course, each time I fucked up. Not this time.

"Okay, I'll bite. What's the deal? Do I need to write this down?"

"Oh, I think you'll remember it. It's simple. Part one...you need to find me. Part two...you need to get me to beg you to fuck me. Goodbye for now, Joe."

"Wait! I don't even know your name."

She paused for a few seconds.

"I am the Desert Goddess, Joe. You may call me...Sahara."


CHAPTER I

A package showed up a few days later, and inside I found a cashier's check for $75,000. There was a note.

"Hi Joe! As you can now see, I wasn't bullshitting you. Deposit the check in your bank and get packed. You'll need the money to travel. More will be available if I see that you need it. There are but a few rules. You have 30 days to win. I'll supply clues as to where I am. Some will be easy to figure out, some a bit more difficult. You can use whatever resources you have to help find me. I'll use my resources to thwart your efforts. I'm going to tease you along the way. Big time. If you decide to quit, there's a number at the bottom of this note. Just call it and say "I quit." Whatever money is left is yours. You can quit now if you'd like and you'll be 75 grand richer. Or...you can chase me...and if you win, well, aside from the money...you'll have...me. Play the video, Joe."

Inside the box was a small, hand-held device that played video. I pressed the start button.

The video started with an extreme close-up. As it slowly zoomed out, I could see that it was focused on a nipple. A hard nipple. Pulling back further, first one breast came into view, then both. As the video continued, so did the zoom out...and more of Sahara came into view. She was naked, standing on a beach. After blowing me a kiss, the video faded to black.

"That was it?" I said out loud to myself.

I played it again, and again, and fiddled with the device to see if there was more. There wasn't. But there had to be clues. Then I remembered something from when I was a kid, watching television with my parents. Pulling up Google, I looked up the TV show Hawaii Five-O. After a few minutes, I found it. It was an episode entitled The Banzai Pipeline. I next went to YouTube and found it, and skimmed through it. There...there it was. In the Sahara video, I could see surfers in the background, and it was the same wave formation, the "Pipe" as it is referred to by locals. Sahara was on the north shore of Oahu!

The next day I was on a jet bound for Hawaii, first class. Seemed pretty easy to me, maybe even a bit too easy. But, I couldn't get that picture of Sahara out of my head. Long blonde hair, handful-sized tits, trimmed blonde bush, long legs, engaging smile. I wasn't sure what her game was, but I'd play along for a while.

When the plane landed I didn't bother getting a hotel. Instead I just rented a new Mustang convertible and headed out on 83, aka Kamehameha Highway, which circles the island. It took a little while to get to Ehukai Beach, where the Pipe is located, but the trip was an easy drive made easier by the spectacular scenery. Parking the car, I looked around a bit, pulling out the video once more and watching it yet again, trying to get the angle at which it was filmed. After about 10 minutes, I was standing in the same space where Sahara had stood.

I guess it wasn't going to be quite that easy. She was no one to be found. In fact, it was just a beach. There were a few people out surfing, some just in the shallows, hanging out, others on the beach. I looked around a bit more and saw a small food stand across the road. My stomach grumbled. Yes, yes, I'll feed you, I thought to myself. I walked over and was greeted by a nice, older native woman who talked me into some fresh poi. It tasted horrible but I tried to retain my composure. She laughed the way old women laugh, and said "You make face like wild boar!" We both laughed a bit more.

Then she produced a video device just like the one I had.

"Nice lady said man of your description would be stopping by. Paid me $50 to give this to you. Said for you to enter zip code."

I just stared at it for a bit. How. How did she know I'd come across the street?

I thanked the woman and walked back to car. When I turned it on, it asked for a password. I entered my zip code. The screen that came up showed that there were two videos. The first one was the one that I had already watched. I tried the second one and was greeted by Sahara's face.

"Well done, Joe. I'm impressed. I wonder if you'll be equally impressed."

With that, she took whatever camera she was using to film herself, slowly panned around the room, and then put it on a stand of sorts. It was facing a bed, on which sat a young man with a fairly well-muscled body. He was nearly naked, wearing a robe that was open. He was hard.

I watched as Sahara, dressed in a business suit, knelt before him. Her hair was up in a bun, and she was wearing eyeglasses. And lipstick. Bright, red, suck-a-cock lipstick. As she leaned forward to inhale the scent of the man's crotch, it was then that I noticed that she was handcuffed. The man was not in a patient mood it seemed. With one hand he took hold of her face, and with the other, his well-formed, very hard cock.

He merged the two.

Opening her mouth, he guided his cock inside, several inches, then took his hand off his cock and reached around to the back of her head, pulling her closer, forcing more of his thick tool inside her. I heard her make some sounds, perhaps swallowing or gasping, I wasn't sure. Then he started pulling her off, then pushing her back onto his cock. Back and forth, back and forth, his forced fellatio leaving trails of saliva along his shaft. I could see that her nipples were erect, and her face and upper chest was flushed. She was ... enjoying this!

He began to increase his pace, one hand reaching down to pinch her pebble-hard nipples while the other maintained its relentless pumping of her face onto his cock. It was as if he was using her mouth as a personal masturbation device. She wasn't human to him, just a wet, suctioning device where he could deposit a load of sperm.

It wasn't long in coming. With a final series of fast thrusts he groaned and shot what must have been a massive load of hot cum into her mouth. He then pushed her away, got up and exited the view of the camera. A few seconds later Sahara appeared, a close up of her, lips puffy from the brutal, forced fellation. She opened her mouth and inside was his load. She paused for a second, then swallowed it.

Looking into the camera, blue eyes sparkling, she licked her lips.

"God, Joe...I wanted that to be you. Please...hurry. Please."

And with that, the video faded to black.


CHAPTER F

I was baffled. And aroused, of course. But how was it that she was able to film this video and then get it to the old lady before I got here. Unless it was filmed locally. But something told me that it wasn't. I watched it again.

There. On the robe. There was a logo. But it was too small to see. I fiddled with the device...aha...zoom capabilities! I zoomed in. Yes, I recognized it, a double "P", backwards and forwards. I know I had seen it before...just couldn't remember where. I watched the video again. There. When she panned the room, the window showed some type of a skyline, or buildings, tall ones I suspected.

It still wasn't making sense. A car door closing brought me from my reverie. It was another customer over at the food stand.

Maybe she was in downtown Honolulu. It made sense, but something was nagging me. As I saw the customer drive away, I had a thought, and walked back over to the lady. After declining another portion of poi, I asked her a question.

She looked at me funny, then replied.

"No, she not hand me package. She give me $50 and then package arrive day later via UP."

"UP?"

"Yes, UP. UP. Brown truck."

Ah...she meant UPS. So the package was sent to her!

"Do you still have the package?"

"I give you the package before. You let poi go to your brain?"

"No, no...the envelope. Do you have the envelop that the package came in?"

She looked at me like you'd expect an older Hawaiian woman to look at an off-islander, and then she softened a bit and smiled.

"She said you smart. Package here." And with that, she produced from under the counter an envelope. I thanked her and took it back to the car. Turning on my iPad, using 3G, I was able to connect to the UPS website. I entered the tracking code and a few seconds later, had my answer. The package originated from New York City.

I closed my eyes and racked my brain...and there it was...The Plaza. That's the logo that I saw. I pulled up their website and yep, there it was. Ugh...back to the East Coast. Damn. Well, glad I didn't get a hotel room.

I drove back down to the airport and booked an overnight flight back to the East Coast, destination JFK.


CHAPTER T

With all the travel both east-to-west and then west-to-east, sleep came easy on the plane. Having never traveled in first class, I found the big, plush seats and extra leg room to be a simple delight. The cab ride from JFK to The Plaza was uneventful, which is usually the best one can say for such an excursion.

A bellman met me at the curb and took my luggage inside. As I approached the front desk, I was intercepted by a concierge.

"Mr. Gallo?"

"Yes?"

"Please come this way." The bellman followed.

He led me to a private elevator. His white-gloved hand produced a small, gold key that he inserted and turned into a brass slot in the wall, which opened the elevator doors. Ornate in an Old World sense, the three of us rode in silence to the top floor.

When people wonder where the rich and famous stay, I will be able to answer with authority. The Royal Plaza Suite is a 4,400 square foot masterpiece of Louis XV royal court design. Three bedrooms, three baths, a grand piano in the living room, a dining room that seats 12, and a private library are just some of the features of this opulent suite.

"Mr. Gallo, please enjoy your stay here, compliments of The Plaza. If there's anything I or my staff can do to make your stay more enjoyable, please do not hesitate to ask."

"Who is paying for this?" I inquired.

"The financial arrangements have all be taken care of, sir."

"By...?"

He just smiled.

I thanked him and the two of them left.

I wandered around a bit, almost afraid to touch anything. This wasn't me, this wasn't my life. Looking out the window in the master bedroom, the view was, well, breathtaking. Central Park in all its glory, highlighted by a premium view of the Pulitzer Fountain. It was all a little much.

The sound of my cell phone ringing startled me. Pulling out my iPhone, I could see it was a FaceTime call. I activated the screen. It was her.

"Hello Joe," she said, the sound of water nearby, "I'm sorry for the short stay in paradise. Did you enjoy the poi?"

I smirked.

"Perhaps you'd like to come down here and enjoy the view?" And with that, the phone was handed to someone, who continued the call, but pulled back from her to give a wider look. The fountain came into view. She was right downstairs in Central Park!

I disconnected the call and went for the elevator. Looking at the numbers, it was going to take a while to get back up here. Damn! I sprinted for the stairs and headed down. 20 flights of stairs are easier to go down than go up, but, not by much. I was winded as I exited the hotel and headed across the street, jaywalking and not caring. Curses from cabbies rung out as I had several close calls.

She was, of course, gone.

As I got closer I noticed a well-built man wearing a suit and tie standing near a discretely wrapped package with the word Joe on it. As he saw me approach he moved away from it. I picked it up and looked around. There were no signs of her, save perhaps for a trace of Chanel No. 5 on the package.

I took the package back to the hotel room and opened it, carefully.

Inside was an iPad. It was locked, and required a four-digit password to access the secrets held within. I tried four zeroes to no avail. I tried to think of what four digits she might use. It would have to be something that would show her superiority to me.

My last four. Of course, that unlocked it. I didn't even question how she would have access to my social security number.

There were the normal apps, and one that said "For Joe". How quaint. I started it.

"Hello Joe." It was her, but it wasn't. I mean, she couldn't speak in the video, so she must have done a voice over. I could tell because she had a ball gag in her mouth. The camera panned and I could see that her wrists were tied behind her back. She was naked, naturally, and on a large bed, on her knees. A well-endowed man put a hand on her back and forced her head to bed. The camera showed K-Y jelly being applied to the large cock. The camera was then placed on the bed, close to her so that only her head was within the frame.

I could hear muffled sounds coming from her, then, her eyes got large and the muffled sounds became much louder. She was screaming into the ball gag. There was movement on the bed as the camera jostled a bit. Her head bolted off the bed but just for a second as it came down quickly, seemingly pushed into the mattress, as if it was being held there in place.

There was a small tear forming in her left eye and she was still making loud noises into the gag. The bed movement had changed. It was now somewhat rhythmic; I could see her face shifting forward, then back, forward, then back. It was obvious to me that the guy was now fucking her, anally.

She was blinking away the tears as the anal assault continued. It went on for several minutes, then, some frenzied thrusting, accompanied by some moaning. Shortly thereafter, all movement stopped.

The gag was removed and she slowly rolled onto her back, the camera just allowing me a partial view of her face, ear, and tussled hair.

"God," she said, her voice husky, "that was great. I wish it was you in my ass, Joe." And with that, the video faded to black.


CHAPTER S

I couldn't decide if I was getting annoyed by all of this, but I did know that I was aroused.

A sound indicated a incoming FaceTime call. I accepted.

"Hello Joe!" She was walking down a sidewalk, that dazzling smile of hers causing the minor feelings of annoyance to fade.

"Hello Sahara. I'm surprised you can walk." So I was being a little snarky.

She laughed.

"So tell me, Joe, are you hard right now? Or better yet, why don't you show me?"

I thought, what the hell, why not, so I unfasten my pants and slid them down, then moved the iPad's camera in front of my crotch so that she had an up close and personal view of my cock. Then I brought it back up so I could see her expression.

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm....very nice, Joe," I could see that she had moved indoors, but I wasn't paying all that much attention to her surroundings, "why don't you stroke it for me some?"

I fiddled for a second with the case and got the iPad to stabilize on a coffee table and then sunk into a comfy chair, my right hand encircling my now raging hard-on. Up and down, that age old motion that guy's hands know oh so well.

She stuck her tongue out and must have brought it close to the video camera because it dominated my view. She licked up and down. I continued stroking.

I closed my eyes and envisioned her here with me, her soft lips enveloping me, her tongue dancing back and forth, the Ode to Fellatio that all women know but only a few can master.

"Hello Joe."

The voice was in room and my eyes flew open. There. She. Was.

I started to rise but she motioned for me to stay seated. She was naked. She was moving towards me. She was smiling. "Fuck me, Joe...I'm begging you..."

"Mr. Gallo? Mr. Gallo...can you hear me?"

I opened my eyes and was greeted to the site of a rather large black man in a paramedics uniform. He had a concerned look on his face that now softened a bit.

"Mr. Gallo...can you understand me?"

"Ye...," I cleared my throat, and coughed a little, "Yes, I hear you. What's going on?"

"Mr. Gallo, you apparently jumped into the water and saved a woman. You're a hero, sir, but you were unconscious for a little while yourself. Glad to see that you're okay, though."

Unconscious? This was all a dream?

After a few further checks, I was released and had to deal with all of the applause and laudatory praise. The woman apparently was taken to the hospital but supposedly she was fine. The restaurant manager handed me a bunch of gift certificates and offered to have my clothes dry cleaned. I declined. I just wanted to go home. People though it was because of the fall. I just wanted to be alone.

A package showed up a few days later, and inside I found a cashier's check for $75,000. There was no note.

 

BEST Little Whorehouse on XNXX II: Virgins in the Whorehouse!

This was my CAW 10 entry. The theme was "BEST" and since it is in the title, and since I'd been asked by a number of readers to write a sequel, I did. This story has been read over 250,000 times, making it currently the 3rd most read story in this forum.

Note that this sequel takes place approximately two years after the first story.

You do not have to read the first story to enjoy (hopefully!) this story. It would certainly help, though, for you to get all of the insider jokes.

This story is faction, part-fact, part-fiction. The characters who are contained within are real people from XNXX.com. At the end of this story, you will find a "key" that will match up character names with XNXX screen names. You should try and read this story without checking the names of the characters...no peeking!

Please note that the sexual nature of the characters is all made up by me. Don't assume anything beyond that. Any mistakes are mine. Void where prohibited by law. No deposit, no return. Your mileage may vary.

BEST Little Whorehouse on XNXX II: Virgins in the Whorehouse!

Chapter 1

To say that this was an ordinary poker game would be to say that the Mona Lisa was a painting. It was an extraordinary poker game, with stakes so high mere mortals would have difficulty comprehending.

There were just three players left from the original ten. Eight of them had put up $100,000 to play. $200,000 would go to the winner. $400,000 would be donated to charity. $100,000 would cover the expenses of bringing in the 8 players from around the country, and world, for a week's stay. The final $100,000 would go to the girl seated at a table with the game's judges.

For the two local players, neither of whom had to put up any cash, it was a matter of pride and lust. Both had grudging respect for the other. Both wanted to win badly. And both wanted a heads-up match.

"Call."

The junior senator from Pennsylvania looked confident. He had a horrible poker face, but played so erratically that no one had been able to read him. He now smiled as he liked his chances of eliminating Sheriff Don once and for all, who had just called his all-in wager.

There were four cards on the table from the flop: A six of diamonds, a queen of hearts, a king of spades, and a queen of diamonds.

Senator Fun, who came from nowhere to unseat an incumbent after said incumbent backed out of the primary one week before the vote due to alleged sexual indiscretions, flipped over his two cards.

A collective gasp arose from the small but attentive audience, as the two other queens in the deck were revealed. The senator was sitting pretty with four-of-a-kind, a very powerful hand.

Sheriff Don had a most impassive face. He turned over his cards, revealing a king of clubs and a king of hearts for three-of-a-kind, a much lower hand than the smiling senator. Most people quickly thought that the Sheriff figured his three kings would rule, and the best the Senator would have would be three queens. Such is the uncertainty of Texas Hold'em.

The dealer, a gorgeous redhead, counted the chips and got the bets arranged in proper fashion. As she did so, many male eyes were glued to her. Jayne, a slightly upper-middle class English bird, was dealing naked. The reason given was so that there would be no possible way for the dealer to pass cards on to one of the players. That was the official reason. Everyone knew the real reason...Jayne was a beautiful woman and an exhibitionist and despite the high stakes of the game, it was a fun atmosphere.

Well, maybe not fun for all. Sheriff Don knew he was one card away from elimination. He looked over at Jack Tales and saw that the Doc had a smirk on his face, glad he wasn't in the Sheriff's shoes. He wanted to be "in" something, as he looked over to the Judge's table at the girl seated there, but it had nothing to do with shoes.

The three men had some history. Two years ago, before he became Senator, W.S. Fun was an embassy employee, working for Miss Ellie, who was Manager of Operations. There was an incident involving him and one of the ladies, Kimi, centered around some computer hacking on Fun's part, and some accidental yet illegal activity conducted by Kimi.

Sheriff Don was called in by the ambassador, Mr. Horse, to resolve the problem quietly. However, before the Sheriff could remove the stone in Mr. Horse's shoe, Doc Tales revealed that Mr. Fun had a chemical imbalance, and couldn't be held responsible for his actions. The only suitable option was to remove Mr. Fun from the premises and put him some place where his crafty nature would be of most use...politics! So by using his formidable collection of connections, Mr. Horse helped topple the incumbent, and the rest was history.

As Jayne continued leaning over the table to arrange the large bets, breasts splayed against the green felt, her large nipples stimulated by the rubbing around as she moved to and fro, counting...hard-ons were forged, as those behind her were treated to a wonderful view of her spectacular ass. Those closer to the action could make out her pussy lips from behind, just adding to the sexual tension in the room.

Finally, she stood up, slowly, nipples erect, face slightly flushed.

"The wager is now set." She looked around the room. Nearly all eyes were on her. Various parts of her, to be precise.

She burned one card, and then turned over the final card, the "River" as it is called.

A king of diamonds!

Now a huge roar arose from the audience! Four-of-a-kind kings beating four-of-a-kind queens!

The normally stoic Sheriff raised an eyebrow at the Senator, his lips curling slightly in a brief smile, then going back to impassivity. Doc Tails let out a howl and clapped his hands together.

Senator Fun just stared at the cards. He was probably the second most unhappy person in the room at the moment, with the first being his aide-de-camp, a young female college student who had suffered often when the Senator wasn't happy.

The Senator was pissed because he wanted the girl at the Judge's table, only known to all as Jamie. A natural blonde with medium-length straight hair, she was the ultimate prize for the winner.

The winner of the high-stakes match would get to deflower Jamie...she was a virgin!

Jamie had come to the attention of Ambassador Horse through some mutual friends. She had recently obtained her PhD, and in doing so, had accumulated approximately $100,000 in student loan debt. One overheard conversation led to a phone call, which led to a discussion, which led to a proposal. Jamie, a virgin and a knock-out, agreed to give up her virginity to the winner of a high-stakes poker game, in exchange for having her student loans paid off.

Now with Senator Fun out of the running, it would be a heads-up match between Sheriff Don and Doc Tails.

Curiously enough, it was Ambassador Horse who had a small grin on his face, for he now knew the true fate of Jamie.

Chapter 2

As Miss Ellie entered the conference room, conversations ended, voices hushed, and all eyes turned to her. As Manager of Operations for a good number of years, Miss Ellie ran the day-to-day operations of the embassy. While technically some employees had equal or higher rank, no one crossed her path or challenged her decisions, or if they did so, they did so only once. Ambassador Horse had yet to ever reverse a decision made by Miss Ellie, and she had never let him down.

"Good afternoon, Ladies," said Miss Ellie, smiling as she sat at the head of the table, smoothing her mid-thigh length dress out. She had been carrying several file folders and put them on the table in front of her.

"Good afternoon, Miss Ellie," was the chorus of replies. They all took note of the smile; today was going to be a good day.

There were four women seated at the table, not counting Miss Ellie. Sitting closest to Miss Ellie was Kimi, an Oriental girl who had been working here the longest of any of the girls. Seated opposite of her was Gay, the party girl from Florida. Cathie, an olive-complexion lass from Europe, was seated next to Kimi, and was the newest of the girls. There were two other girls, but one was on vacation, and the other was indisposed at this time of the month.

"Today should be an interesting one," started Miss Ellie, "Kimi, you've got the afternoon off. Tonight you'll be entertaining the Secretary of the Interior. Here is...what was that?"

"I was just musing that the Secretary will be wanting some of my interior!" Light laughter filled the room.

"Would you like his folder?" asked Miss Ellie.

"Yes ma'am, thank you." Kimi took the folder but didn't open it, as doing so would take her attention off of Miss Ellie while she was speaking, and that would be rude. She witnessed one girl doing so, and winced at the memory of the tongue lashing the girl received for such impertinence

"Cathie, being the newest here, you've drawn the Socks twins," continued Miss Ellie, passing a folder to the hazel-eyed, dark-haired vixen. Gay and Kimi both smiled at each other in a knowing way.

"Gay, you'll be entertaining Congressman Saltimer" said Miss Ellie as she slid the folder to the remarkably beautiful blonde. Gay mumbled something unintelligible. Kimi just smirked.

"You know I don't like mumbling, Gay. What did you say?"

The slender blonde turned a pale, crimson shade and lowered her eyes. "Nothing, Miss Ellie."

"You said something, my dear, unless you're accusing me of hearing voices in my head, or calling me a liar. Which is it?"

The tone in the room had changed, and everyone noticed immediately, sitting up a little straighter, eyes flittering between Gay and Miss Ellie.

"No ma'am, I mean, yes, wait..." Gay stumbled over her words, her facial color deepening by the second.

Miss Ellie ended it by clearing her throat.

"We're done here, ladies," said Miss Ellie, standing up, "review your folders and contact me with any problems. Otherwise, I'll see all of you here tomorrow."

All three women got up quickly and began to exit.

"Wait," said Miss Ellie, not finishing her sentence, but speaking volumes with that one uttered word, her eyes focused on Gay. The others skidded to a stop, saw who Miss Ellie was talking to, and scampered out of the room quickly, in no way, shape or form wanting a piece of that upcoming conversation.

Gay stood still, head tilted downward, eyes lowered. Miss Ellie recognized this as Gay's submissive nature, and while she was a good friend to Gay's deceased Mom and agreed to look after Gay, she also enjoyed wringing her out a bit on occasion. This was such an occasion.

Miss Ellie sat back down. Gay didn't move.

"I want to know what you mumbled that was so important as to interrupt my afternoon, Gay."

"It was stupid, ma'am."

"I already know that, child. I want to know what it was that you said."

"I said 'Great, another evening getting my holes torn up by that freak', ma'am."

"You have a problem with my work assignments, Gay?"

"No, Miss Ellie, I was," she was cut off.

"Don't sass me, Gay. Disrobe."

Gay sighed quietly, then removed her shirt, jeans and sandals. She wasn't wearing undergarments. Her small breasts were highlighted by erect nipples, despite the temperature in the room being a balmy 75 degree. Her golden, trimmed bush caught the sunlight streaming through one of the skylights.

"Assume the position."

Gay got down on her knees and crawled under the table, and between Miss Ellie's legs.

"You know what to do, slut."

Gay gently pushed Miss Ellie's skirt up her legs until she could see her panties, which she carefully removed and set on the floor. Miss Ellie adjusted herself in the seat a bit, exposing more of her pussy to Gay's eyes. Gay smiled to herself as Miss Ellie had partially trimmed her bush into a downward pointing arrow, as if one needed directions.

As Gay began slowly feasting herself on Miss Ellie's delectable snack, there was a knock at the door. The feasting stopped for a second.

"Come in," said Miss Ellie, reaching under the table to push Gay's head back up against her pussy.

The door opened and a young Oriental girl entered, possibly of Chinese descent, but with other blood mixed-in.

"You must be Trish," said Miss Ellie, motioning her to a chair near her, "please come sit down. I'm Miss Ellie."

The young woman moved over to the chair and sat, not yet noticing the naked woman under the table.

"So why don't you tell me a bit about yourself, Trish. I've read your file, and I've spoken with our mutual friend."

Trish cleared her throat, twice, before she started speaking, obviously quite nervous.

"Well, I'm 20 years old. I lived in California up until recently, and I'm really in need of a good job."

Miss Ellie looked at the young woman. Small-breasted, slim...similar in stature to the woman who was under the table, licking her.

"That's nice, dear. So, how many cocks have you sucked?" Miss Ellie decided to see right away if she had the moxie to handle a job here.

Trish's face chameleoned a bright shade of pink.

"Well, um, I don't know, exactly, but lots of them!"

"Is that so?" said Miss Ellie, her focus a little off as Gay had begun applying her tongue to her boss's clit. "Well then, simply nod your head to these questions so we can get them out of the way."

Miss Ellie rambled through a series of questions surrounding Trish's past sexual history, from anal and bi-sexuality to group sex and role playing. According to Trish, she was experienced and accepting of all of it.

"Well, it sounds like you'll fit in here just fine, Trish. Let's just make sure. Take off your clothes."

Trish just stared at Miss Ellie.

"You do understand English, do you not?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Trish, now beginning to reluctantly remove her clothes. When she finished, Miss Ellie spoke again.

"Enough, Gay. Come out."

As Miss Ellie slid her chair back a bit, Gay emerged from under the table, naked (as noted by Trish), her lips a little puffy, and visibly coated with Miss Ellie's secretions.

"Trish, meet Gay. Gay, this is Trish, she'll be starting work here."

Trish raised her hand to meet and shake Gay's, but Miss Ellie interjected.

"Gay, show Trish how we greet new people here."

Gay moved closer to Trish, noticing her small, dark, erect nipples and trimmed, dark bush. She took hold of the younger girl's head with her hands and brought her lips in contact with Trish's lips, slipping her tongue into her mouth. Trish accepted the french kiss, tasting Miss Ellie's pussy secondhand.

"Trish," said Miss Ellie, interrupting the kiss, "sit up on the table." Trish complied with the request. "Now lay back." Again, she did as she was told.

Miss Ellie looked at Gay and nodded towards Trish's pussy. Gay nodded back in understanding, then moved between Trish's lithe legs. Miss Ellie moved around to the other side of the table, standing next to Trish's head, which would have hung over the side if Trish wasn't holding it up. Miss Ellie stepped in front of Trish and moved forward a bit, forcing the girl to lay her head back. As Miss Ellie raised her dress upwards, Trish just stared at Miss Ellie's arrow.

Miss Ellie moved forward again, pressing her now wet pussy up against Trish's face and moving her thighs closer together, imprisoning the young girl between her legs. A few seconds later she felt the young girl's tentative tongue start to lick her.

Meanwhile, Gay had pulled up a chair in front of Trish, sat in it, then put Trish's legs on her shoulders and looked at the pretty pussy in front of her. Normally not a big fan of pussy, much preferring the taste and feel of cock, Gay had learned to like pussy as a submissive to Miss Ellie.

Leaning forward, she began licking the girl's outer lips, feeling her body shiver as she did so. Applying her tongue in broader strokes, she soon got the girl quite wet and decided to add her fingers to the mix. First she began rubbing her clit, slowly, then in more rhythm with her tongue licks. Finally, she took a finger from her other hand and slid it inside Trish's now heated pussy, sliding it forward.

It was then she discovered that Trish was a virgin! Sure as the day is long she felt Trish's hymen, and immediately backed off, not wanting to take a chance of breaking that sacred guardian. It turned Gay on that she was eating virgin pussy, so with that extra hand that would no longer finger-fuck Trish's pussy, she reached between her own legs and began to rub her own clit, timing each rub with her rub of Trish's clit.

Trish was finding it difficult to breathe, her face held fast against Miss Ellie's pussy. Her tongue was moving more rapidly now, having never eaten a pussy before, but pretty determined to put those hours of staring at porn on her computer to good use. She felt the other woman between her legs and for the first time was getting eaten herself. She could hardly believe how great it felt. But it was when someone (Miss Ellie, though Trish couldn't see) started to pinch her nipples that her orgasm began its run up the mountain at full speed.

Trish's legs started to quiver and her hands reached around and grabbed hold of Miss Ellie's ass through her dress and pulled her pussy harder onto her tongue, concentrating exclusively now on her boss's clit. This caused Miss Ellie to pinch the nipples harder, and the sexual cycle was now in overdrive, as the increase in nipple pressure caused Trish to moan. The vibrations against Miss Ellie's pussy caused her to start to cum, which triggered Trish to cum hard against Gay's face, smearing it with her juices.

A minute or so later, there were two satisfied faces, and one that wasn't, as Gay had not reached orgasm.

"Gay, you and Trish get dressed," said Miss Ellie, stepping into her panties, "tidy up in here, and then go back to your room. I'd like for you to explain some of the basics to her. Trish, I'll speak with you this evening at dinner."

With that, Miss Ellie walked out of the room.

Gay turned to Trish. "You and I have some talking to do."

Trish knew exactly what Gay was referring to. "Yes," she said meekly.

Chapter 3

Kimi was sitting at a table in the lunchroom eating some salad when Cathie walked in. After selecting soup and salad herself, she went over and sat opposite Kimi at the same table. Kimi looked up and smiled.

"So, what was that look that you and Gay exchanged?"

"Which look was that," asked Kimi?

"You know which look," continued Cathie, sipping her soup and finding the bisque to her liking, "when Miss E. said I would be seeing the twins. What's up with these twins that I need to know about?"

Kimi smiled and shrugged and went back to her food.

Cathie's eyes squinted a bit, making a mental note about Kimi's uncooperativeness.

She flipped open the file that she'd received from Miss Ellie. The standard information was in there...along with photos...but nothing appeared amiss. Closing the file, she went back to her food, periodically noting Kimi looking up at her and smirking a bit.

If something happens, thought Cathie to herself, that I don't like and that could have been avoided, I'm going to make Kimi pay....

Chapter 4

Gay unlocked the door to her apartment within the Embassy and let herself and Trish inside. The embassy provided fairly spacious living quarters for the ladies on a private level that was inaccessible to the general public and visitors.

Motioning for Trish to sit on the sofa, Gay fetched two bottled waters and then joined her.

"Before I explain some of the rules and regulations, I'd like you to answer one question for me," began Gay, looking directly at Trish. "I'd like to know what you are doing here?"

Trish stared at Gay for a moment, trying to decide which angle to pursue.

"Before you begin, don't say 'I don't know what you mean.' You're a virgin. I felt it."

"I'm looking for a job. I desperately need money, and a good friend of mine put in a word for me and got me this interview. Please don't mess it up for me."

"How do you expect to work here as a virgin?!"

"I can take care of that. I don't want to be a virgin any longer, so it shouldn't be anyone's concern, least of all yours."

"Really. So you think you're ready for all of this, hmmm? Do you know what a tossed salad is?"

Trish thought for a moment. "I don't suppose you are talking food, are you?"

Gay smiled haughtily. "No, and you aren't ready for this. You're going to embarrass the rest of us to someone important. I'm going to have to tell Miss Ellie about you."

Trish's resolve crumbled. Tears formed at her eyes.

"Please don't," and she broke down, putting her hands up to her face and covering the view as she began sobbing, "I h-h-have no place to gooo..."

In two years, Gay had become toughened, far from the sweet, semi-innocent woman who first showed up here at the request of Miss Ellie. Gay had been through pretty much everything one would expect, giving countless blowjobs, taking it in the ass, and more recently been on the receiving end of some kinkier activity. She knew that this young girl would lose her soul here, and didn't want that to happen. But she also knew that it would be better for the girl to come to that conclusion on her own, and quickly.

"Come here," said Gay, pulling Trish into her arms and letting the girl sob quietly, "it's going to be all right, I won't say anything," as she rocked the girl back and forth slowly, pondering her next move.

Chapter 5

Later that afternoon, Cathie walked into the assigned room and was greeted by two men who looked to be in their early 20s, and, were identical twins. They were wearing the same type of clothes, same color, even their shoes were the same brand and color.

She'd read up on the Socks twins and found nothing to be too out of the ordinary. They were the sons of an important and influential politician from Nebraska, and as such visited the Embassy about four times a year. They were clean-cut guys, the dossier said, and always requested the newest girl. And, they always, always teamed up with each other.

Cathie went over and hugged and kissed each one of them, and, following the notes in the folder, began fondling their crotches as she alternated kissing them. Some visitors craved conversation and wanted to talk before getting down to business. Not the Socks twins. They had a couple of hours to visit, and wanted to make the most out of it, so it was straightforward sex for them. Cathie felt their cocks through the shorts and felt herself start to moisten.

The two guys began removing Cathie's clothes and soon she was naked. At just a few inches over five feet tall with a slender build, her slightly olive complexion and long, dark brown hair was set off by penetrating hazel eyes. The two young men took a step back to admire her perky, mid-sized breasts, dark nipples and trimmed landing strip before closing back in on her. One of the twins went for her mouth, kissing Cathie passionately while the other latched on to a nipple, sucking at it while his hands started roaming up and down her body.

Soon the guys began removing their clothes, which consisted of shorts, polo shirts and dock shoes, no underwear. Cathie glanced down and saw that their cocks were nice-sized, normal, and very hard. She was pleased and looked forward to this pounding. She had been off work for the past week, having been "her time of the month", and was definitely in need of a good pounding.

The two guys lifted her and carried her to the unusually large-sized bed, big enough for a half-dozen or more people, set her down on the edge of it, then gently pushing her onto her back, a pillow under her head. This was also explained in the dossier. She thought it a bit odd that they always wanted the same position, but then figured it was probably some kind of "twin thing" and didn't give it any further thought.

One of the guys moved up and straddled her chest, presenting his hard cock to her mouth. She opened it and began licking around the head, catching one small drop of precum. It tasted nice, a tad salty, but after a week's inactivity, she mused that any cock product would taste good.

As Cathie started taking the guys' cock into her mouth, him helping by rocking forward and back a bit, she felt the other between her legs, holding them up with his arms as his face moved forward, tongue licking at her outer lips.

This, she remembered, was their routine. One would straddle the girl and get a blowjob, and the other would lick pussy until it was his turn. When the first guy had come, he would move off and go to the bathroom for a quick cleaning, and the other guy would move up for his blowjob. When the first would return, he would continue the oral assault on the girl's pussy. The rotation would continue and eventually the guys would fuck the girl until they no longer could get hard.

As Cathie applied her tongue to the underside of the shaft in her mouth, she hoped that they'd be good for a couple of cums apiece, one each in her mouth, and in her pussy. She squeezed the muscles in her thighs a bit, feeling the tongue between her legs now pushing its ways inside of her. God...what a way to make a living, she mused to herself.

Because of her positioning on the bed, and the one guy straddling her chest, she could not see the four faces that were peeking out from the bathroom, watching the action intently, gently stroking the cocks-in-hand.

Chapter 6

::: one month earlier :::

There was a knock on the Ambassador's door.

"Come in."

The door opened and in walked Miss Ellie and another woman, a young blonde who seemed a bit hesitant.

"Ambassador, this is Jamie," said Miss Ellie, providing the introductions, "and Jamie, this is Ambassador Horse."

"Thank you, Miss Ellie," said the Ambassador, standing in the presence of a woman, "I will see you tonight for dinner."

Miss Ellie nodded and then turned to leave, giving Jamie a quick hug, whispering "I told you he was handsome" and then left, pressing two key-codes into a panel on the wall, one of which activated the door lock when she left.

"Please," said the Ambassador, his hand gesturing to a comfortable chair next to his massive oak desk, "have a seat, Jamie."

"Thank you," was her reply, quiet and demure.

Ambassador Horse studied the girl for a moment. He noted she was of about average height and weight, with light blonde hair that extended a ways down her back. Her eyes were a blue-green, and she had a light tan complexion. Her sweater puppies, as he affectionately referred to a woman's breasts in his own mind, looked to be a full...nice handfuls.

Jamie blushed, almost as if she could read his mind.

"Jamie, I've spoken with our mutual friend, and he has told me of your situation. I'm asking you now...you are willing to do this of your own free will?"

Jamie blushed much more profusely now, and whether due to the air conditioning or just the turn in conversation, Ambassador Horse noted her nipples starting to poke through her blouse.

"Yes, Mr. Ambassador," her voice soft.

"Okay, good. Let me go over the details, and I'm sorry if this embarrasses you a bit," noting with pleasure her squirming a bit and the continued reddish-hue of her cheeks, "but we've got to be sure of everything. You've stated that you are a virgin, having never had sexual relations with a man...no regular sex, no oral sex, no anal sex." He saw the blush deepen.

"You agree to give up your virginity to the winner of our high-stakes poker game or his/her designee in exchange for your student loans, which total," the Ambassador shuffled through some papers, "$101,340, being paid off in their entirety. The poker tournament will take place in approximately one month, here at the Embassy, and so will your...deflowering. As part of the deal, you agree to let our resident physician examine you to verify said virginity and intact hymen."

Jamie felt crimson in color, and despite her initial misgivings, she also felt excited. She'd seen Mr. Horse before on television and thought he was handsome despite being much older. Now she felt an amazing sexual attraction to him.

Ambassador Horse could see that Jamie's nipples were more pronounced now. He smiled a bit, remembering Miss Ellie's coded activation of both the door lock, and the pheromonal spray that had been developed by his good friend, Dr. Tails, the resident physician. The spray affected female hormones, and depending upon the amount injected into the available air supply, it ranged from making women feel randy to having them turn into all-out sluts looking to fuck anything that moved. The Ambassador suspected that Miss Ellie laced Jamie's air supply with a heavy dose.

He got up and moved over in front of Jamie, and put a document on the desk.

"All you need to do is sign this, and the $100,000 in loans will disappear, Jamie."

Jamie's system was in overdrive. It was the male equivalent of taking a handful of Viagra. He head was pounding, not with a headache, but with desire. She didn't look at the paperwork, but instead was looking right at the Ambassador's crotch.

"Is there something you want, Jamie?"

She licked her lips, and nodded. She sorta' thought that there might be some upfront payment required on her part, but she couldn't figure out why she had an overwhelming desire to suck off the man in front of her.

The Ambassador reached down and opened his belt and unzipped his trousers, feeling them fall to his ankles.

Jamie gasped. He was wearing no underwear.

The Ambassador's cock was something of legend. Long and thick, there should have been a reference to him in the Urban Dictionary for "hung like a horse".

"Kiss it, Jamie."

Jamie looked up at the Ambassador, then dropped to her knees in front of him, leaned forward, and kissed the head of his cock. When she pulled back a bit, a sticky string of precum attached her lips to the man's cock. She licked her lips and the string broke, the remainder of it hanging from the large organ. Jamie dove for it, licking all of it up.

"Now suck, girl."

Jamie obediently opened her mouth and engulfed the large head. Her lips were stretched a bit wide, her first act of fellatio, daunting. But the pheromones invading her brain were working their magic. Her mouth was producing copious amounts of saliva, making it easier for her to take in several inches. Tentatively, her hands reached up to cup the large set of testicles in front of her, gently feeling them, subconsciously weighing them for the savory meal contained within.

The Ambassador reached down with both hands, gently but firmly taking hold of the young girl's ears and then beginning a stroking motion with his hips, sending several more inches of cock into her mouth. When he felt his large head smack against the opening of her throat, and saw her eyes open wide, he backed off and withdrew a half-dozen inches, then slowly slid back inside, repeating the back back and forth movement until Jamie picked up on the rhythm.

As she bobbed her head, saliva escaping from the sides of her mouth and coating the shaft in a shiny layer of moisture, she continued cupping and holding the Ambassador's balls, feeling them shift upward a bit.

My God, she thought to herself, I'm actually sucking a man's cock! And not just any man, and Jesus, not just any cock. I think he's actually going to cum in my mouth!

The Ambassador released Jamie's ears and instead used one hand to caress the back of her head, speaking more softly now to her.

"Jamie...keep up the rhythm...soon I'm going to fill your mouth. I want you to swallow all of it."

Oh God, he IS going to cum in...ohhh...right now! And with that, the first spurt of warm semen landed in Jamie's mouth, her head bobbing faster and hands gently squeezing and pulling downward on the ball sack, milking it. A second spurt immediately followed, hitting the back of her mouth and dripping towards her throat, followed by several more spurts, Jamie swallowing and sucking, trying to keep pace with the ejaculations.

When finished, she let the cock plop from her mouth, then licked the tip to get the last drop. She looked up at the Ambassador, her lips slightly puffy from the effort, one small cum smear at the right corner. The Ambassador raised his hand to her face, gently rubbing the smear off, and put his finger in her mouth. Jamie moaned quietly, her lips closing on the finger, her tongue swirling it and removing the small amount of cum.

Yes, thought the Ambassador, she will make a fine prize for someone...his mind already at work.

Chapter 7

Two hours later Jamie was in the office of Dr. Jack A. Tails, the resident physician. Jamie was waiting in the inner office while the Doctor and the Ambassador had a conversation in the outer office.

"No."

Doc Tails winced at the answer to his question, though he knew what the Ambassador was going to say. For that matter, the Ambassador knew what his good friend was going to ask.

"Come on, you've got to let me..."

"Absolutely not," said the Ambassador, cutting him off, "she needs to remain a virgin, and that's that. You examine her, and then get her back to Miss Ellie, do I make myself clear on this?"

"Yes sir, Mr. Ambassador, sir!" said the physician, mockingly, saluting with his left hand.

Ambassador Horse smiled slightly, shook his head in mock disgust a couple of times.

"Back door?" asked Doc, probing?

"I'm going out the front door," said the Ambassador, moving in that direction, "you use the back door when you're done with the exam", throwing him a you-will-pay-for-it look. And with that, the Ambassador left.

Doc then proceeded to wheel himself into the inner office, the manual wheelchair his preferred mode of transportation; Doc's upper body strength was impressive. He saw that Jamie had followed his instructions and put on the clinical gown.

"Go ahead and get up onto the table," said Doc, moving over to the sink and washing then drying his hands, then putting on rubber gloves. He pressed a button and some smooth jazz music began playing. The room was kept at a constant 78 degrees, warmer than the rest of the building because it was more comfortable at higher temperatures when less clothes were being worn.

Jamie was on the exam table, her feet in the stirrups. Doc wheeled over near her head. He took hold of her wrist and felt for her pulse. It was racing a bit, which was normal under the circumstances.

"Jamie, you can relax, you are in good hands," said Doc, using his best physician's voice. She smiled weakly. "We're going to perform a number of tests, but, just keep focused on me being your private physician. Anything that happens in here is private through doctor-patient confidentiality."

"Thank you, Doctor."

Doc then produced what appeared to be an oxygen-assisting facial mask. "Please put this over your nose and then breathe deeply five times. Make sure you keep your mouth closed. This is to test your lung capacity."

Jamie did as she was told.

"Don't worry if you feel a bit lightheaded, that's normal," said the Doc as he took the mask from her and put it away, grinning, but not letting her see his face.

Doc then wheeled around and came up between her legs, making an adjustment to the stirrups so that he legs spread open.

He almost forgot himself and whistled.

That, he thought, is one beautiful pussy.

Surrounded by a trimmed layer of straight blonde hair, the outer lips were clearly defined, not thick, but certainly looked capable of gripping anything put between them. The inner lips were not really visible, attesting to the tightness of the opening. There was an unmistakable aroma of arousal present, and, wetness to back up that arousal.

Using fingers from both hands, Doc moved the outer lips apart and gently inserted a forefinger inside, making about one inch of progress before coming up against the barrier he was seeking. He pressed against it lightly and felt her squirm. He withdrew the probing finger.

"I've just confirmed your virginity, my dear. Now we need to test your SRP, which stands for Sexual Response Quotient. It's an easy test, just close your eyes and relax."

Doc Tails, a Cal-Tech and MIT graduate with more than just a shady past, had the morals of a snake in the grass. He knew that the facial mask assisted in the forced inhalation by Jamie of his secret pheromonal compound that drove women to insane sexual heights. This would be her second time today.

Doc then began lightly touching Jamie's outer lips, rubbing them gently. He then moved to her clitoral hood and again rubbed gently. This time he noticed a slight quiver in her thighs.

God, he's my Doctor and I'm getting horny again, I'm so embarrassed, thought Jamie to herself.

Using his fingers, Doc continued his manual masturbation of the young woman for a couple of minutes, a slow, gentle motion around her clit along with taking her secretions and moving them down to her asshole, touching it, getting it wet, occasionally pushing against it a bit.

Jamie's squirming increased until she had to say something, the spray cross-circuiting her normal, shy self with the hidden, slut-monster buried deep within her psyche.

"Doctor...I'm sorry...I feel, oh god, why are you doing this...it feels too good...I..." she rambled, her breathing ragged, causing her large breasts to rise and fall, the nipples erect and throbbing.

"It's okay, Jamie. The Sexual Response Quotient test is supposed to bring you to an orgasm or two. It's a required part of the exam, so, don't worry, just relax and let it happen." Years of training enabled him to keep a straight face through all of that.

Jamie tried to relax, spreading her thighs a little wider and involuntarily reached up and rubbed her own nipples with her fingers. When Doc saw this, he moved forward and put his own lips to Jamie's lips, tasting her pussy.

The unmistakable moaning sound of high arousal was heard by Doc as his tongue began dancing over and around Jamie's clit, then delving inside to gather up some of her wetness. She tasted great, and with that revelation, Doc upped the ante a bit, pushing forward with his lubricated thumb into her ass.

That set off Jamie's first orgasm...

"Oh God, Doctor, please don't stop, ohhhhh gawdddddddd," and Doc felt her thighs squeeze against his head while he continued to bury his thumb completely in her ass, his tongue lapping against her clit.

As he felt her first big wave recede from shore, he knew that a second wouldn't be far behind, so he stepped up the assault, sliding his thumb back outwards until just the first knuckle was inside her, then pushing it forward again, burying it completely, all the while licking around and around her clit, then gently sucking the area into his mouth, then back down to her opening, sticking his tongue in as deeply as possible.

He kept this repetition up for another minute until he could tell by the movement of her lower body, and her moaning, that she was getting close to a second orgasm.

That's when he backed off a bit, and adjusted a lever on the exam table, causing the end where he was at to slowly lower, and the other end to rise a bit. One of his hands had been busy for the past few minutes, unzipping his pants, pulling out his achingly hard cock, lubricating it. The other continued rubbing Jamie's clit, keeping her arousal level peaked.

"Doctor, what's happening, oh, I want to cum again, please help me..." Jamie recognized she was moving a bit, but in her spray-induced sexual frenzy, she didn't care. Her life right now was centered between her legs, such was the power of the spray.

"Relax, my girl, we need to test your ability to take a man inside of you, but without damaging your virginity," said the wily physician, noting the positioning of the stirrups were moving properly to, in synch with the rest of the table, not just spreading Jamie's legs to the proper width but arching them backwards, thus opening her ass to him. He lined up his cock head with the opening to her ass, both very well lubricated.

Then gravity took over. The table movement stopped, but it was at enough of an angle that she slid downward a bit, which put pressure on the one spot where they were now touching...her asshole.

Inevitably, it gave way, and Doc's cock entered her.

Without ample lubrication, without her having just orgasmed and working closely on a second, and without the unpatented, unauthorized, unlicensed and clearly immoral pheromonal spray, it would have been a painful entry into her ass. But with all of these elements working for him, Doc was successful in taking Jamie's anal cherry.

"Ohhhmmmmyyyygoddddddddd..." Jamie felt Doc's shaft enter her ass as her eyes shot open. There was pain but she also felt incredibly turned on! Her body reacted and she jammed her feet against the bottom of the stirrups, trying to gain some leverage to pull upwards and away from the unexpected intrusion.

She did...but her body only moved up a few inches. Her legs were positioned so that she could rise no higher. This wasn't the first time Doc had used his table for this purpose. His hands were at her waist, and when she reached the upward limit, he used his tremendous upper body strength to slowly pull her back down onto his cock, going deeper this time. Then he again let her reactively arise off of him, then pulled her back down.

Each time, Jamie moaned. The cock in her ass was a new sensation, but one that she quickly began to covet. She began to assist Doc in the downward movements too, her legs controlling the rise and descent. This freed up Doc's hands and he put them to better use, two fingers from one hand spreading Jamie's pussy lips apart, two fingers from the other hand rubbing, stoking her clitoral fire once again.

She was babbling now, her body completely overriding any higher brain functions. All she cared about was impaling herself on the cock and sinking it deep within her ass.

Doc felt his orgasm quickly building, her tight, minutes-ago-cherry ass gripping him firmly as her movements increased in speed.

"Ooooooooooooohhhhhh...." Jamie had reached orgasm number two, her lower body a blur as she rode Doc's cock hard. She vaguely registered him making noise and then felt added lubrication inside her ass, realizing that he was shooting his load inside. The waves once again rolled over her, forcing her eyes shut as her body twisted and shook, trying to elicit every last gasp of sexual gratification that it could. She then collapsed backward against the table, her body still impaled on Doc Tales' slowly softening cock, the warm glow of orgasm sleepily enveloping her.

From his office, Ambassador Horse had been watching, making sure that his friend didn't violate their agreement. He began compiling a list of potential poker players, all with excessive money, all who would relish the thought of taking a beautiful virgin's cherry, and all who were lousy, god-awful poker players.

Chapter 8

::: the present :::

Cathie couldn't believe the stamina of these two guys! She had already taken four loads of cum in her mouth and they had both cum in her pussy and they were still going strong! In fact, she thought, the guy in my mou...yep, he just started unloading in her mouth yet again!

As she was swallowing the fifth load of cum, she opened her eyes and was shocked to see four men standing around the bed. She quickly pushed away from the softening guy in her mouth, and struggled away from the guy who had been fucking her pussy, scrambling to the head of the bed and turning on the crowd.

"Who the fuck are..." and she stopped, her mouth wide with surprise.

There, standing in front of her, were six naked men, most with hard-ons, all naked, all smiling, and all looking exactly the same. Exactly.

"You...your...you're not twins...you..." she was flustered.

One raised his hands in mock surrender.

"We are twins, ma'am. We're also triplets, quads...you get the idea. We're the Socks Sextuplets. My name is Jacob. This is Jace, Jared, Julius, Jasper, and that's Jeremy. We're sorry for the shock, but it's sorta' tradition here with a new girl for us to pull this surprise on you."

So that's the secret, that's what Kimi didn't tell me, thought Cathie to herself.

"Ma'am, if you'd like us to leave," Jacob began...

"No...it's just..."

Jacob looked to his brothers and said "Hey, she said we can stay, let's get her!" And with that, the guys started whooping and hollering like a rabble of teenagers and quickly moved to all grab hold of Cathie.

"Wait a minute!" cried Cathie, but it was too late. She was swarmed with bodies, hands grabbing her everywhere and pulling her towards the middle of the bed. All of the guys were still smiling and joking, so she didn't panic much but was expecting to be in control, like she always was when it came to guys.

One of them laid on his back and she was seated on top of him. Each arm was held by a guy, and so was each leg. Another, she assumed it to be Jacob, was directing the operation.

"Right. Now a little to the left. Good. Now towards me a bit, that's it, right there."

Cathie felt the guy's cock who was underneath her press against her pussy. Then she felt him reaching down and repositioning it...it was now against her asshole!

"Hey, wait, I normally don't do an..." she started to say when she was spoken over.

"Okay guys, slide her towards me, slowly."

As the guys did, Cathie felt the pressure on her asshole give way, and the guy slid into her; thankfully he was very well lubricated. As this happened, Jacob, or whom she thought to be Jacob, moved forward and pressed his hard cock against her pussy, and slid inside. She felt stuffed, her small frame not accustomed to taking two men inside her down below at the same time. She felt the guy who was in her ass reach around now, one hand massaging her clitoral area, the other latching onto a nipple, lightly pulling at it.

Both guys let go of her legs now as they were lifted by the guy in her pussy and held onto, for leverage. One of them moved up and presented his cock to her mouth, while the two who were holding her arms now put their cocks in her hands. The two guys inside her pussy and ass started to move, causing Cathie to moan. This allowed the guy in front of her face to slide his cock inside her mouth.

God, she thought, I'm fucking five guys at the same time. I wonder where the sixth one is?

After setting up the video camera, the sixth, Jeremy, moved to the head of the bed and climbed on it.

Video taping was strictly prohibited, however, an exception was made for the Socks Sextuplets, such was their political pull.

Each of the brothers had their own fetish, and for Jeremy, it was hair. He took hold of Cathie's long, dark hair and wrapped it around his cock, then began masturbating, using her hair as the lubricant.

Thinking wasn't an option for Cathie now, her body being used by six men at one time. She was simply on auto-pilot, hands stroking cocks, mouth, pussy and ass accepting the thrusting of other cocks, and out of the corner of her eye, watching the one using her hair for his pleasure.

She had come twice earlier from their oral pleasuring of her, and now it was almost a sustained battery of mini-orgasms that began, nothing like the rush of jumping out of an airplane, but more like the first taste of great coffee in the morning...a really good feeling...coming upon her every thirty seconds or so.

The assfucking was surprisingly okay to her, and it seemed that the two of them down there, in her ass and pussy, were coordinating their thrusts for maximum pleasure. The hand at her clit was just enough but not too much. She was having some trouble with the guy's cocks in her hands, trying to work them independently, but having trouble doing so. Thankfully they helped her with thrusts, her pussy juices on their cocks from when they had fucked her earlier providing ample lubrication.

It was Jace who came first among the brothers, filling her mouth with her sixth load of cum for the afternoon. He must not have cum for a few days, thought Cathie, because his load seemed quite a bit more than average as she struggled to swallow it all, some spilling out the sides of her mouth.

Jace cumming set off the two in her hands, and as Jace pulled out of her mouth and moved out of the way, Julius and Jared moved closer, shooting their semen onto her chest and face in a live tribute. Jacob and Jasper, in her pussy and ass respectively, came next, filling up both holes with warm spunk, then pulling away.

This left Jeremy, whacking off with Cathie's hair, as the last to cum, squirting his second load of the afternoon, making a mess of her hair.

Jacob motioned for Cathie to stay there as Jasper moved the video camera closer for a real nice shot of her, cum leaking out of all three orifices, her face, tits and hair all sporting their own loads of maleness.

Finally, all of the guys moved in close to Cathie's face, all seven heads, including hers, smiling.

"Okay guys," said Jacob, "let's do it!"

And with that, all six guys dove towards Cathie's body, their tongues extended, and began licking her clean, sending her into a combined paroxysm of laughter and lust.

Chapter 9

Gay unlocked the room and let herself and Trish in. She adjusted the temperature down to 60 degrees, adjusted the lighting, and then walked into a side room, telling Trish to join her.

"You'll need to stay in here until I call for you. Don't make any noise, ok? And when I leave, take off all of your clothes."

"Ummm, sure. What am I supposed to do?"

"You'll know when you come into the room. Just go with the flow and make this guy happy. You'll probably just have to lay back on the bed and get serviced by me. You don't want him to be your first."

"Why not?? Gay, I really want to get, well...fucked and get this virginity thing behind me!"

"When you come into the room, you look at him, and if you really want him to be your first, you let me know and we'll make it happen, ok?"

"Okay, deal," said Trish, looking forward to finally losing her cherry.

A knock on the door ended that conversation, Trish hiding out in the room while Gay went to answer the door.

"Congressman, please come in."

The career politician walked in and immediately began shedding clothes, first his shoes, then his suit jacket, his tie, shirt, pants, boxers, leaving only his socks on.

He turned to Gay, "Come here, woman."

Gay was used to his antics and wasn't surprised or put off. He was one of the most cocky individuals that she had ever met, totally confident that the size of his organ made him King of the World.

"Get your clothes off, slut! And be quick about it."

Trish overhead this and winced. Slut? What kind of an asshole is this guy? She had already removed her clothes.

A well-connected asshole, thought Gay, as she remembered Miss Ellie's lecture on his almost two years ago. Removing her clothes quickly, Gay remembered her words as if they were spoken yesterday.

"He's very influential in a number of committees important to Ambassador Horse. He's a complete asshole, his cock is far too large for him, and he'll take pleasure in giving you pain if he can, mental and physical, so lube up before taking him on."

Gay stood before the Congressman naked, the now cool air making her nipples stand out.

Sitting down on the bed, the Congressman barked "Get with it, bitch. I don't have all night."

Gay dropped to her knees and placed her mouth over the head of the man's cock, flicking her tongue at the underside. She felt him take hold of her head with both hands and knew what was coming, and prepared herself.

"Suck deeper," he said, pulling her face forward, forcing her to take seven, eight, and then nine inches of his hard cock into her mouth. Luckily, his cock wasn't very thick, and Gay knew how to deep throat, otherwise it wouldn't have been pretty. He held her there, loving the look of the blonde woman with her mouth and throat full of his cock.

Although she could and did breathe through her nose, Gay knew what he wanted. After about 20 seconds she started making some noises and tried to pull back off of the cock, but the Congressman held her there.

"Don't even think about biting me, you whore."

Gay started flailing her arms a bit, pulling back harder now, the noises louder. This drew the attention of Trish, who curiosity got the best of, peeking around the corner to see what was going on.

Okay, it's a blowjob, and wow, she took, wow, it looks like she took all of him in her mouth, damn. And he won't let her go, the bastard! I might have to go...

Finally, the Congressman released Gay, and she flew off of his cock, sputtering and breathing hard. It was all an act on her part, and she played the role very well. She was actually turned on by it, and by his abuse.

"You're terrible at giving head, I don't know why I always get stuck with you. My wife is a better fuck."

"I'm sorry, sir, please let me try again," said Gay, submissively, looking towards the floor.

"Good God no, I'd rather jerk off than put it in your mouth again. Now get your ugly ass up onto the bed so I can get this charity fuck over."

Gay moved quickly up onto the bed, assuming the doggy style position, the one the Congressman always insisted upon.

Without preamble, the older man moved behind her, placed the head of his cock at her pussy, grabbed hold of her hips, and slammed it in, going balls deep on the first thrust.

Gay screamed.

It wasn't truly pain, although it was a bit uncomfortable, his long cock smacking against her cervix, but it was part of the act.

"Oh god, please...please sir, not soooo deeeeeeeep," she cried as he pulled out and thrust balls deep again inside of her, and again, and again.

"Quiet, you useless cunt, you're ruining my concentration. We need something to keep your mouth busy."

And with that, Gay knew the Congressman was ready for his surprise. Every visit, usually about once a quarter, Gay would do something to make his visits memorable. Once she had a male doll, the expensive kind, and serviced it while the Congressman had his way with her. Another time she pretended to have her period, complete with a red liquid, and the Congressman relished having her do terrible things to herself with the tampon.

"Trish...come...out...here," said Gay between thrusts.

Trish walked out slowly, totally unsure of herself in this situation and moved to the side of the bed.

"Well, what do we have here, an Oriental slut? Well, at least you are young, not like this worn-out cumbucket. Get on the bed in front of her."

Trish was stunned at the Congressman's words, but complied as Gay motioned her over with her eyes.

"On your hands and knees, Miss Sake Slut," continued the Congressman, never stopping his thrusts into Gay's pussy.

Trish was about to spin around and tell the bastard that sake was a Japanese drink and that she was Chinese but Gay shushed her and helped her into position. Moving her face forward, Gay began raining kisses down on Trish's ass, then moved lower and inhaled Trish's scent. Her pussy smell was that of jasmine and rose and turned Gay on. She reached out with her tongue and began licking at the visible lips, then centering her tongue on the opening, where some wetness was forming.

The Congressman reached leaned forward now and reached under Gay, taking hold of her small, yet perky breasts, and finding her nipples quite hard. He squeezed each one, pinching the nipple hard, releasing it, then pinching hard again.

Gay grunted, her pussy creaming from the strong nipple play as she tried to concentrate on the sweet, virginal pussy in front of her. However, the Congressman had other ideas.

"Her...ass...lick...the slut's...ass," he uttered, still thrusting hard into Gay's very wet pussy.

Gay lifted her face a bit and moved her tongue between Trish's tight ass cheeks, finding her opening and licking, flicking her tongue back and forth.

Oh my god, she's...oh...she's...mmmm..., Trish moaned at the forbidden pleasure, feeling her pussy contract and moisten further.

The Congressman had seen enough. He pulled out of Gay and pushed her aside on the bed, flipping her out of the way. Then he moved forward and brought his cock up to Trish's pussy, lining it up for a one-shot, balls deep thrust.

Trish felt a moment of panic, but then lowered her head to the bed, ready to get deflowered and move on with her sexual life, even it was at the hands of this despicable man.

It was Gay who saved Trish's cherry, though. She reacted quickly, moving her face to the Congressman's ear, and whispering "Wait...she's an anal virgin...take her anal cherry..." while reaching down with one hand and repositioning the man's very wet cock from pussy to asshole.

Trish didn't hear what was said, but did sense movement...back...there...and wondered what was up. She couldn't see the evil grin on the Congressman's face, but she quickly felt some major pressure against her, and then as she realized what was going on, and where the pressure was at, it was too late.

With hands gripping her hips, and with Gay now moving and laying her body over Trish's back to keep her from trying to bolt, the Congressman slid his greasy cock inside of Trish's ass before she could mount any resistance

Trish's scream was muffled by the pillow. She tried unsuccessfully to move her legs back and fall on the bed, as the Congressman's body blocked her way. She tried unsuccessfully to lift her body up, but Gay's body was draped across hers, Gay's arms wrapped around her. She couldn't do anything but get ass-skewered by the long-cocked member of the House of Representatives.

It was Gay's pussy that saved Trish's ass. The lubrication that the Congressman's cock picked up from fucking Gay was enough to make the entry not as painful as it could have been.

He pushed forward, wanting to bury every last inch of his cock into this virgin ass. He got eight inches inside and couldn't go any deeper, the girl's slender frame and body not allowing any further penetration. Her ass tube felt like a python constricting around its prey, his cock squeezed by this liquidy vise. He banged forward a few quick times, trying to insert the last bit of his cock, but all he did was produce some "Ah!" "Ah!" "Ah!" noises from Trish, whose body rocked forward with her thrust.

Gay reached under Trish and began rubbing her clit, trying to distract the girl from her first assfuck. At first Trish only squirmed, but as the Congressman began stroking, loosening her up a bit with his well-lubed cock, Trish began to feel some pleasure, both at her ass being filled up and stretched, and from Gay's talented fingers, teasing her clit and pinching one nipple.

It was simply too much for the Congressman, who, with a roar, exploded deep in Trish's ass, sending a large amount of semen deep within her. Trish herself didn't orgasm, but was riding towards it when the Congressman finally finished squirting in her ass and pulled out. He got off the bed and walked into the bathroom, closing the door and turning on the shower.

Gay, sensing Trish's condition, rolled her over onto her back and began licking her sopping wet pussy, concentrating on her clit.

It took Trish less than a minute to cum, thrusting her pussy at Gay's mouth while gripping the bedspread with both hands. Her moans echoed off the walls, and she finally settled down as Gay gave her pussy furrow one final lick, liking both the taste of the girl and the look of her fur-lined treasure cove. She moved up and cradled the girl in her arms, knowing they had plenty of time before the Congressman would emerge.

"He's such a bastard," said Trish, quietly, several minutes later.

"Wait. You'll see," said Gay, smiling and then kissing Trish's forehead.

"I really wanted him to fuck me, not there...you know."

"I know, baby. But you needed to lose *that* virginity too. Your other...it should be a little more special. I have an idea."

Before Gay could expound upon it, the door opened to the bathroom. Both girls got up as the Congressman entered the room and began to get dressed. He said nothing, and neither did Gay, so Trish followed suit.

When he was totally dressed, the Congressman walked over to Gay.

"Amazing, utterly amazing, Gay. You are one special woman, the only woman for me. You know my offer still stands, darlin'?"

"Yes, Congressman. I know," smiled Gay sweetly, hugging him genuinely.

"And you...Trish. It was my honor. Rest assured, I'm not the wicked man you saw here today. Gay will fill you in," as he reached for her hand. Trish extended it, and the Congressman brought it up to his lips, and kissed it, formally. He then let go, winked, and walked out of the door, leaving Trish with her mouth open in wonder.

"It's all an act, dear," said Gay, starting to put her clothes on, and motioning for Trish to go do the same. "You'll find that there will be an extra bonus put into your account...a sizable bonus. It's all good, I promise."

Trish walked into the spare room, shaking her head, still wondering when she would rid herself of her annoying virginity.

Chapter 10

"So babe," said the man laying next to Kimi, "how long have you been here?"

Kimi thought for a moment, then was semi-startled.

"Really? Today is...you...you remembered?"

"Yes I did, darlin'. Today is your 7th anniversary. Happy Anniversary!" With that, the Secretary of the Interior pulled a small sheet off of a bucket of ice, harboring a bottle of Dom Perignon, already decorked. He poured two glasses, and they clinked glasses and sipped the expensive champagne.

"Do you remember your first day here?" he asked.

Kimi snuggled against the man and mused...

"I'm sorry, sir, I went down the wrong hallway and got lost and then couldn't remember this room number and had to go ask Miss Ellie, and then she chastised me for being late, which made me more late, and..."

"Whoa there, girlie...slow down, you're getting me tuckered out just listen' to ya'," said the newly instated Secretary of the Interior. "Why don't you come over here and sit down and have a glass of this here champagne and we'll get to know each other a little better, hmm?"

"Yes...you were quite the gentleman with me," said Kimi, her hand lazily reaching down under the covers and meeting up with the Secretary's stiffening erection.

"Why thank you, ma'am, and you look as lovely today as you did that day."

Kimi began a slow stroke of his cock and again thought back to that day...

"So, um, what would you like to do?" asked Kimi, a little unsure of herself.

"Well, beautiful, I'd like for you to come sit right here," said the man, pointing to his crotch, "you see, I'm the Secretary of the Interior, and," he raised his eyebrows up and down in an exaggerated fashion, "I want to get acquainted with YOUR interior!"

Kimi laughed along with the man, and decided right then an there that she liked him.

"That feels nice, babe," said the Secretary, feeling the effects of Kimi's hand. She had given him a welcome blowjob just a short while ago, to take off the edge, and now he was starting to recover, in preparation for round two.

"What felt even nicer was the taste of your cum," said Kimi, licking her lips and remembering how when he was ready to cum she sat back and let him shoot into her open mouth, some of it landing on her face, and then she licked her lips and spread the cum around, lips glistening with it, then swallowing the rest of it. "Did you drink pineapple juice this morning on the way out here?"

The Secretary smiled broadly.

"I thought so!" Kimi ducked her head under the covers, taking the head of his growing cock into her mouth and swirling her tongue around the tip. The man was not well-endowed, sporting only five inches, but to Kimi, it was the nicest five inches that she'd ever met. She might have allowed herself to become emotionally attached to him, the ultimate no-no in her line of work, but because of his high profile job, and her status of having been here for so long that she'd become somewhat of an icon here, known by many of the highest level power brokers in the country, nothing could ever come of it. She felt love for him, but kept it locked away inside of her.

As she swallowed his cock, enveloping it in her mouth completely, a thought came to her, a way to make her special man happy.

She released his cock from her mouth and scooted further down on the bed, between his legs, and took his cock in her hand again, slowly jacking him off. Then she began licking his balls, using broad strokes of her tongue. The moan told her that she was doing good.

Kimi then opted to take it to the next level, releasing his cock for the moment and began pushing the Secretary's legs up towards the headboard. Her mouth and tongue left his balls and began the trek south, her tongue swirling along his perineum until she found her target.

Running her tongue lightly around his asshole, she resumed stroking his cock, and heard "Oh my god..." from above the covers. She had only tossed one other guy's salad before, a guy she thought she had loved years before working here, but just had the urge to do it for this man who she'd known now for seven years.

She pushed harder with her tongue, wiggling it back and forth, knowing that it wasn't just the sensation that had now made his cock rock hard, but the thought of the ultimate act of submission itself.

There was one other thing she could do, she thought, and with that thought she rose from between his legs, moving up to sit down on him. She reached down between her legs and touched her pussy, which was very wet. Looking into his eyes, she took some wetness and then raised up a bit, and slid her fingers back to her ass, coating her asshole with the natural lubrication.

His eyes were darting from her eyes to her fingers and then back again.

"Yes...I want you...I want you in my ass."

This was one act that in seven years they'd never done. He'd eat her pussy and fuck her, of course, and he loved her sloppy blowjobs, and they'd tried various positions, but not once had he asked to fuck her in the ass.

She reached under her and took his cock in her hand and then sat down on it, his cock penetrating her pussy fully. Then she rose up again, shifted her position slightly, and placed the head of his cock at her asshole.

"Look at me," she said, "look at my eyes as this happens."

His eyes locked onto hers, and she started to sink downward, the head of his greased cock slipping inside her ass. Her eyes glazed over, and her mouth formed an "O"...and he thought he might come just from her expression.

Kimi sank down, taking his five inches, her ass cheeks pressed up against his body. She knew she was tight, as her ass didn't get fucked often, most guys wanting a blowjob or, to fuck her...becoming charmed by her trademarked heart-shape trimmed pussy hair. So she knew that as she rose and clamped down using her ass muscles that she was literally milking his cock, relaxing her muscles on the cock's ride back inside, but squeezing as hard as she could on the exit, and then repeating the process again and again.

The Secretary watched this woman of his dreams, her body rising and falling, the feeling of her ass wrapped so tightly around his cock nearly taking his breath away. He so wanted to tell her that he loved her, that he wanted to take her away from this place and make her his wife, but knew in his heart that she couldn't love him, that it was all one-sided.

Kimi reached down with her hand and began rubbing her clit as she picked up the pace, squeezing and releasing, squeezing and releasing. She started making little noises, what the Secretary had dubbed "Kimi-squeeks", and both recognized as her getting ready to cum.

"Oh god, yes, mmmmmmm, yes....fuck me baby...cum in my ass," said Kimi, her speed incrementally increasing, her eyes shutting as she closed in on her orgasm.

The Secretary started shooting his cum into her ass, uttering "I love you..." as he did so.

Kimi's eyes flew open and her orgasm hit, her pussy clenching and unclenching around nothing, but her ass doing the same around the Secretary's organ buried within, the wetness from his cum lubing her insides and making the strokes happen that much quicker. Her brain was short-circuiting for its normal half-minute, but she thought she heard....

Chapter 11

She had never seen the Senator quite so upset. It was times like these that she wished they were back in Washington, where she could find an excuse to go off to a sub-committee meeting or bring something to a lobbyist or anything to get out of the Senator's sight. But here there was no escape. They were in a holding room, close to the poker action.

"Four fuckin' kings? Who the fuck draws a fourth king on the River?" raged the Senator, pacing back and forth. He'd been at it for almost twenty minutes.

He continued his rant for several minutes, then finally noticed her watching him.

"What the fuck are you staring at?" he said, spittle flying out of his mouth.

Regina Alisa Gabriella Ellington, in a moment of defiance, mumbled something.

The Senator had gone back to pacing. Then he stopped abruptly and turned his focus completely on her.

"What did you say?" he said, his voice noticeably quieter, but menacing nonetheless.

"Noth...nothing, sir."

"Yes you did you fucking cunt, what did you say?" he screamed.

That one word pushed her buttons.

"You asked what I was staring at and I fucking said 'Obviously a lousy poker player', you arrogant prick!" she screamed back at him.

He reached out and tore her blouse open, exposing her breasts, then grabbed hold of her hair as a pinprick of light fired inside of the Senator's brain, searing some neurons and other cranial matter. In relative terms, he felt nothing but RAGE at the moment! Twisting her hair and pulling down, he quickly forced her to the floor in front of him.

"You fucking slut! I'll show you a prick," as he unzipped his pants with his free hand, and pulled out his stiffening cock, "here...suck this, you bitch!" and proceeded to pull her face to it, rubbing it all over her cheeks, nose and mouth.

The young, ample-bosomed woman had reached her breaking point after dealing with months of abuse. She too felt nothing but pure, white-hot rage, and in a moment of clarity, opened her mouth and sucked the Senator's cock inside, feeling him shoving it to the back of her mouth.

Looking up into his eyes, she clamped down with her teeth. Hard.

Chapter 12

The two had battled for twenty minutes now, exchanging small amounts of chips back and forth, neither one of them wanting to gamble too much. The Sheriff was the chip leader, but Doc was whittling away a little bit.

Neither of them knew that the other had cut a deal with the Ambassador. Neither of them had the initial $100,000 to get into the game, so they were staked by the Ambassador with a caveat; if either won, they would get to keep the wining, the $200,000, but, they would turn over rights to deflower the girl to him. But, they had to keep their mouths shut, and both of them had plenty of experience doing just that.

Miss Ellie, who was seated next to the Ambassador, looked on with growing interest. This poker tournament coincided with her weekly visit by the Sheriff. She looked forward to having him for dinner tonight, and she smiled at her little pun. She saw the Ambassador turn towards her, and she blushed, wondering if he was reading her thoughts.

"The sheriff...he's a good man." It wasn't really a question aimed at her, more of an observation. She replied anyway.

"Yes, he certainly is. A good man is hard to find."

"Indeed. And a hard man...." He let the rest of it trail off, smiling.

She blushed again.

"He'd make someone a nice husband, I think. Even more so when he wins."

Miss Ellie looked a little more sharply at her boss.

"You didn't..."

"I didn't do a thing, Ellen. But watch. The Sheriff is setting a trap, making himself seem unsure."

Miss Ellie returned her gaze to the game, and the large flatscreen above, where the cards were easily seen. Over the next few hands, Doc Tails became more aggressive, winning some hands and now the chips were almost even, Doc just a couple hundred behind, which was nothing when there were $800,000 worth of chips in play.

A new hand was dealt and Doc looked at his cards. An ace of clubs and a four of diamonds. He made his bet. The flop produced a two of hearts, four of hearts and an ace of hearts. That gave Doc two pairs on the flop. He looked up at Sheriff Don as he made a fairly large bet, half his stack. The Sheriff pondered for a few seconds, and then called. Doc was thrilled...he had the Sheriff on the run now, and could possibly put him down this hand. That would gain him not only two hundred grand, but score him a big favor with the boss.

The next card was an ace of spades. Doc almost pissed himself. He had a full house! Even if the Sheriff drew into a flush, which would normally be a great hand, he had him beat.

"All in."

Sheriff Don looked over at his buddy and just shook his head.

"Call."

Doc launched himself up in his wheelchair and flipped over his cards triumphantly, showing all present that he was King of the World with an Aces-up full boat.

Sheriff Don just looked at the flipped cards. He knew his friend wasn't gloating in a mean way, just in the competitive way that friends get with each other.

He sighed heavily, knowing that Doc's eyes were now on him, and said "Nice hand, Jack." Doc's smile widened for a second, and then narrowed a bit, trying to rustle up a modicum of sympathy for his buddy.

"Thanks, Don."

It was then that the air became very chilled for the physician. Sheriff Don's eyes twinkled, and his normally passive face broke into a cunning, knowing smile of his own.

He flipped over one card...it was the five of hearts.

Doc's smile disappeared. He had moved over to the crowd to get some congratulatory high fives, but was now moving rapidly toward the table again.

"No...no..no no no...."

Sheriff Don flipped over his second card. It seemed to turn in slow motion. Everyone's eyes were glued to the drama that was unfolding. Well, almost everyone. Ambassador Horse's eyes were on Jamie, eyeing her like a predator eyes its next potential meal.

Three of hearts.

There was a loud, almost inhuman scream, followed by cheers and yells and disruption as those viewing it realized that Sheriff Don had drawn into a straight flush, beating Doc Tails' full house! Doc was distraught and almost flipped out of his seating.

There were two people in the room who noted that the scream that was heard did not originate in the room. Both Sheriff Don and the Ambassador quickly made their way through the crowd and into the hallway.

"Down this way," said the Sheriff, his law enforcement senses taking over.

Both men moved to a door and they could hear moaning coming from within, not moans of pleasure, but of pain.

The Ambassador already his his master key out and opened the door, both men charging in. What they saw before them was startling.

Senator Fun lay crumpled on the floor, in a near fetal position, clutching his privates. Both men could see blood about them and on the floor.

Near him was his assistant, on the floor, her blouse torn open, crying, and blood about her mouth.

The Ambassador reacted first, moving over to touch her arm, feeling rage.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concern in his eyes.

"Ye...yes...he tried...he put his..." babbled the young woman, clearly distraught.

"Don," said the Ambassador, looking at his long-time friend, get her out of here. Use Room 404 and have someone stay with her...Gay, get her to stay with her."

"Yes, sir," said the Sheriff, looking in disgust at the crumpled mess on the floor, and then turning his attention to the woman on the floor, helping her up and wrapping her in his windbreaker, then escorting her out the door and shutting it.

Ambassador Horse walked over to the huddled mass and put his foot on the man's throat and glared down at him.

"That's twice. I'll clean this up, but, if you ever fuck-up again here, I'll kill you myself." With that, he left the room.

Chapter 13

Later that evening, Miss Ellie knocked on the Ambassador's private residence door.

The door opened and the Ambassador was pleased to see Miss Ellie and Jamie.

"Please, come in."

Both ladies entered and he motioned Jamie to a seat on the sofa. Miss Ellie stood by the door. When Jamie was seated, she whispered something to the Ambassador, who looked at Miss Ellie with surprise. A few more whispered exchanges took place, then the Ambassador said "Bring her here at 10." Miss Ellie nodded and then left.

"Mr. Ambassador, um, I wanted to apologize for my behavior the last time we met," said Jamie, speaking fast, obviously nervous.

"Jamie...may I call you Jamie?" he replied, and seeing her nod, continued, "You have nothing to apologize for. I found your behavior most...enjoyable." He saw her blush bright red.

"Tonight is a special night. Why don't you go enjoy a hot bath, hmm?" The Ambassador pointed to a door which Jamie got up and went through, only to be surprised at the size of the room. The oversized tub, a standalone clawfoot design, was pearl white and shined. She turned on the water, adjusted the temperature, added bubble bath to the mix, and then disrobed.

Looking into the mirror she was pleased with what she saw...nice, full breasts, toned and tanned body, nice legs...yes, she was nervous about tonight, but anxious too.

Ambassador Horse was watching her, using the remote to tune in on his large, flatscreen. He pressed another button on the remote, releasing some spray into the air supply, hoping to ease Jamie's tensions.

As he watched her, he noticed that she started to spend more time washing her breasts than normal...especially the nipples...and then between her legs. He nodded to himself, realizing the spray was taking hold quickly.

Before Jamie realized it, she was masturbating, using her fingers under the water, and in just a short minute or two, had a quick orgasm. She looked around, making sure no one was in there with her, and then finished cleaning and got out of the tub to dry off.

The Ambassador click the television off and went into the bedroom, got undressed and into bed, using another remote to put on some Sade, and adjust the lights to just a pink glow.

A few minutes later, Jamie walked in, naked.

The Ambassador let out a low whistle, causing a smile to appear on her face. With a gesture that said "Please, join me", Jamie joined him in bed, under the covers, moving close, the heated bed feeling very nice against her bare skin.

Words were unnecessary.

The two to-be lovers kissed and caressed, their bodies moving against one another. Fingers touched and teased, tongues licked lightly on tender areas and soon both were smoldering with passion.

The Ambassador was too deep into this prelude to the ultimate act of love that he didn't notice he'd had an incoming text from over an hour ago, didn't notice the contents of the text saying that the pheromonal spray would be offline for several hours due to a line break.

Jamie was now on her back, the Ambassador above her, kissing her breasts, her hands holding his head close. She could feel his hardness against her.

"Please," she spoke quietly, "please, take me now."

Ambassador Horse raised his head and looked into her eyes. He wanted to give her one last chance.

"Jamie...we can stop, right here, right now...you can save this, save your virginity for someone that you really love. I won't be mad, and everything else will be fine."

"Thank you, you sweet man," and she kissed him, and then pulled back, "but no, I want this...I want you...now. Please..." she seemed to be looking for the right words within her, "please...fuck me? Fuck me and make me a woman."

Spreading her legs, the Ambassador brought his sizable cock up to her entrance, feeling how wet she was, and knowing that would make it a bit easier, a bit less painful.

As he inserted the head, he felt her stretch just a bit, and saw the look of wonder, lust and fear all rush across her face one after the other.

"This is going to hurt, Jamie, but it will get better soon...I promise," and with that, he thrust forward, snapping her hymen, and sinking half of his thick cock inside of her.

Jamie involuntarily yelped and sunk her nails into his shoulders. He winced too from this, and thought it only right that he too should suffer a little pain from this girl's deflowering. Tempted to sink further into her warm depths, he waited, and waited.

A minute passed. "Okay," she said, tentatively, "it's okay now."

And with that, he did sink slowly inside of Jamie's no-longer-virgin pussy. He couldn't get all the way in, but when he reached bottom, the Ambassador said to her, "You are now a woman in all respects, Jamie."

She smiled, her cheeks flushed from pain and pleasure.

"Fuck me," she said, using muscles to squeeze at the Ambassador's thick muscle.

"You got it."

It started as a slow movement, an inch back, then back in, a couple of inches back, and then back in. The Ambassador was experienced at this.

"You...you're so...thick...it f-feels really good," said Jamie, timing her words with the thrusts.

Seeing that she was enjoying herself, he moved his head down to her neck and finding a pulse pressure point, he bit down lightly and began sucking, and increased the speed and depth of his thrusts.

"Oh my god!" was her reply, her body taking on a mind of its own as she felt another orgasm rapidly approaching.

When it hit, she cried out and this plus the tight grip her pussy had on his cock caused the Ambassador to hit his orgasm too, spewing cum inside of her pussy.

After all the shuddering and mutual thrusting and humping wound down, the Ambassador pulled out and lay back next to her, keeping her close.

Jamie reached down and touched herself, pulling her hand out from under the covers to look. She saw faint traces of red and realized it was her blood. Looking over at the Ambassador, she smiled.

"Man! I feel like a woman!"

They both chuckled, and then it turned into a laughfest, both of them hugging and kissing and laughing.

Chapter 14

It was 10pm sharp when the knock came on the door.

"Come in," was the reply from within.

The door opened and in walked Trish, alone, Miss Ellie reaching and shutting the door, not entering with her.

The Ambassador motioned for her to come toward him, where he was seated on a sofa in a robe after showering. He did not ask her to sit.

"Do you know why you are here?" The voice was not friendly. It was his Ambassadorial voice.

She tried to speak, but nothing came out. She shook her head.

"I have one question. Are you a virgin?"

All her resolve melted in a fraction of a second. Strong emotions welled up and a tear rained down upon her cheek.

"Yes," she blubbered, covering her face with her hands and sobbing quietly.

Ten seconds passed.

"Please...sit." His voice was a little nicer, and, she sat opposite of him.

"Why are you here?"

"I...I need...needed a j-job..." she was cut off by him.

"I know who you are. I know of your connections. I know what you need. What I don't know is why are you here."

Trish sat there, staring blankly.

"I'm tired of being the rich Daddy's girl. I'm tired of people thinking of me as just another pretty face who lives off Daddy's money. I want something on my own. I'm tired of having shit held over me. I'm tired..." she noticed the Ambassador had held up his hand, so she stopped her tirade.

"Okay. I understand now."

They sat there in silence. He studying her. She...avoiding his eyes. He looked at his watch, pressed a small button on to seemingly synch his watch with his clock, and then spoke.

"Are you sure you want to work here? You've had a little taste of things so far?" It was a statement and a question.

Trish thought of earlier, and shifted in her seat, her butt still a little sore.

"Yes, I would like to work here. I'll try really hard..." Trish found her mind wandering a bit, "really hard to...hard to..." she found herself looking at the Ambassador's crotch and asking herself "Is that his...wow...seems like it is big!"

"Is there something you want?"

The Ambassador was happy with the new watch, which wirelessly connected to the pheromonal spray system. He had sent out a quick burst of high-concentration spray in the room.

Trish licked her lips.

"I um...I...um..."

"Do you want to suck my cock?"

She looked at the Ambassador and simply nodded.

"Then do it."

Trish dropped to her knees and crawled across the floor, stopping in front of the Ambassador and reaching up to open his robe.

Quickly she fished his cock out and gasped at the growing size.

He stood up abruptly and picked her up, then deftly began removing her clothes. When naked, he shrugged off of his robe and was naked too. He then took hold of her hips, and in an impressive show of strength, lifted her in the air and then spun her around, so that her head was facing the ground. She started to panic but then figured out what he was doing, as he slowly lowered her until his thick, hard cock was in front of her face. When she felt his face move between her legs and start licking at her pussy, she realized that he had put her into a standing 69 position.

Taking hold of his thighs, she pulled herself close and opened her mouth, sucking him inside. His cock was large, and she found it initially difficult to suck, but soon there was plenty of saliva which made it easier.

For his part, the Ambassador was enjoying his meal, putting his tongue initially in-between her narrow pussy lips and tasting her, then moving his tongue out and to her clit. He loved the small amount of hair around her pussy and held her in place with one arm. He's wasn't concerned about making this a long, drawn out session, so with his free hand he reached up and brought it down upon her ass, spanking her. He sensed her shock and did it again, and then again, and then rained spanks down quickly, making her ass cheeks pink with blood flow, all the while sucking gently at her clit, moving his tongue to and fro across it.

She tried sucking but the spanking was causing her body to move around, so she settled for grasping it and stroking and moaning.

The Ambassador walked her over to a wall and pressed her against it. She took this opportunity to try sucking again, and was successful. Then she felt one of the Ambassador's fingers sneak between her ass cheeks, and she was going to pull his cock out of her mouth and tell him that she was still a bit sore there...too late! His thick finger pushed inside her still sore asshole, sinking in as far is it could go. At the same time, he shifted his hips forward, pushing her head against the wall so it couldn't move, and thus sinking several more inches of cock into her mouth. Too many inches.

Trish started to gag a bit at the thick intrusion.

"Breath through your nose...do it..." was the gruff explanation.

Trish, fighting for air, tried breathing through her nose and found that it worked! She could breathe, and suck...the pheromonal spray overloading her brain and sending her sex drive skyrocketing.

The Ambassador sucked harder now at her clit and increased the speed of his finger in Trish's ass, all the while flexing his hips back and forth to fuck the young girl's mouth.

Then...without warning...he stopped...he pulled out of her mouth, pulled his finger out of her ass...and spun her around. Now her face was looking at his. She could see her own secretions on his lips and chin. She struggled to lean forward and lick them off of his face. One hand stopped her, holding her head.

"Tonight...right now...you become a woman," he said, positioning his saliva-coated cock against her equally wet pussy.

He was not quite as tender as he was with Jamie. She was going to be a working girl, and he needed to make sure that she could take it.

With a single thrust, the Ambassador tore through her cherry, sending his long, thick horsecock deep insider. He heard her cry out but didn't stop...pushing, pulling her legs up, so that in this position, his cock pressed right up against her cervix.

Trish felt like she had been split in two...her pussy ached right now far more than her ass. She knew she didn't have a hymen, that it tore years ago when she was playing sports, and although she'd put her own finger inside of herself, she'd never experienced anything this large, both in thickness and in length.

She whimpered and put her head on his shoulder, feeling him thrusting deep within her, realizing that she was now a woman. A few thrusts later she heard the Ambassador cum, and felt him shoot off inside of her. She didn't have an orgasm, but felt grateful, in a way, to this man who changed her forever from a girl, to a woman.

Chapter 15

As the sun rose, Miss Ellie awoke and opened her eyes, looking over and seeing the sleeping form of Sheriff Don. She thought back to the night they had spent together, how he had not at first told her what was going on, but, with the proper amount of enticement...he caved and spilled the story to her. She smiled and thought that it was amazing what men would do or say when their balls were in a woman's mouth.

She looked at him and wondered about a more permanent arrangement. He had hinted at it in the past, but she always gently rebuffed him.

As she snuggled up against him under the covers, she thought to herself, maybe I won't rebuff him next time he asks.

Chapter 16

The Secretary awoke early too, and saw an angel laying next to him in bed. Kimi and him had spent many hours talking last night after both had professed their love for each other. She was worried about his career. He was worried about their age differences, and not being able to keep up with her sexually. In the end, they spent the night in each other's arms, making love, and making plans.

Chapter 17

The Ambassador slept late, exhausted from deflowering two women the night before. When he awoke, he smelled coffee and sat up, wondering what the hell was...and then he saw her.

Trish was seated in a chair in the corner of his bedroom. She was dressed. She was smiling. And next to her were two cups of steaming coffee.

"I hope you don't mind. I made a cup for both of us." She brought it over to the bed.

"Thank you."

She went back over and sat down.

"May I ask a favor?"

The Ambassador hoped that it wasn't going to be be an encore of last night, because his cock was still sore. He nodded.

"I'd like to go back to California and finish my schooling. I only have one semester left. When I'm finished, I'd like to come back here, if that's okay with you. I'm a chemistry major, and while that might not..." she was cut off.

"Chemistry major?"

"Yes, that's my major and a minor in business. I know that has nothing to do with what goes on here, but..." she saw that the Ambassador wanted to speak, so she stopped talking.

"Actually," looking down at his watch, "you'd be surprised at how much Chemistry could be useful here."

"Really?"

"Really. Go back, finish your schooling, and then when you have graduated, we'll hire you. Miss Ellie will be in touch with all the details."

There was something now that Trish wanted to say.

"Go ahead," encouraged the Ambassador.

"Well...when I come back...regardless of what job you give me, can I...will I be able to see you...again?"

He saw the color go to her cheeks.

"Yes, darlin'. If that is what you want."

She came over to the bed, leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek, and then pulled away, smiled, and left the residence.

Ambassador Horse took a sip of his coffee and then broke into a rousing, but lousy, rendition of "Oh What a Beautiful Morning".

The End - Except for the Cast

Senator W. S. Fun = WantSomeFun

Sheriff Don = DonB9033

Poker Dealer Jayne = JayneyRedd

Dr. Jack A. Tales = JackassTales

Jamie = Jamie90

Miss Ellie = Ejls

Kimi = Kimiko

Cathie = Smccaaphd

Gay = Sahara907

Trish = Versed

Regina Alisa Gabriella Ellington (R.A.G.E) = RageAgainstTheMachine

 

The White

CAW 11 had a mysterious photograph as the theme. For this one, I created a graphic story using .JPGs. In other words, the entire story was composed on 8 .jpg files. This allowed me to control the background, the font, adding photos, etc. Didn't know how it would go over.

In the end, I won CAW 11. Not sure if it was because of the story, which was about the affect of a virus on the men and women of Earth (different troubles for each of them!), or because of the uniqueness of the presentation. I'm going to post the .jpgs next. After I'm done with them, I will post the story itself in text format, for those who would prefer to read it that way.

In the preface, I use Frost's Fire & Ice, and add my own two stanzas to it. Probably my favorite part of the story!

 

Okay, so apparently something is wrong with the image posting engine. Sorry. I will just have to post the story in non-.jpg format.

 

The White

The White

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
Psalm 23:4


Preface:

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

And so raged the great debate,
Inferno inspired at any rate.
Dante, Canto 32
Matters not for me or you.
To die in fire, the wrath, the ire
Hell or heaven, one a liar.
Ice no picnic, that so true
Our lips forever, ever blue.

It was not fire, laced with desire,
Nor was it ice that sealed our fate.
Just one small vial, deadly, waiting,
And with the wind so fondly aiding.
One life, two, a million, a few,
The world afire, a germ did brew.
Males left dying, few in sight,
Women left desperate, for the White.

(credit to Robert Frost for Fire and Ice, first stanza above)



Chapter 1 - No Laughing Matter

I saw her looking at me from the doorway, raw hunger in her circle-darkened and bloodshot eyes.

"Now?" she asked, hesitation laced with ravenous craving in that request for sustenance.

It was the begging that both turned me on and disturbed me. I nodded.

She moved quickly to the bed, almost forgetting my rules and near stumbling in her haste to stop. Quickly shedding her clothes, she climbed onto the bed and pulled the covers down, revealing my naked form.

At fifty-one years old, I wasn't exactly model material, but to her, that didn't matter at all. She wanted desperately to go straight for my cock, but she knew that I would disapprove. She would do anything to stay in my good graces. Looking at me and catching my eye, she moved her lips to my ankle, kissing it, then extending her tongue out and licking up my shin, over my knee, along my thigh, half-whimpering as she passed my half-erect cock that she had to leave untouched, across my stomach, my chest and then up to my mouth, kissing me.

She thrust her tongue into my mouth, perhaps too aggressively, but I suppose I understood her acute desire to speed things up. I, however, had other plans. Like many men, having been subjected to the whims of women in the past, it was now my time.

As I felt my cock harden, I took hold and rolled her, putting me on top, our mouths parting. I could feel her body trembling, yet almost coiled, her eyes open and darting, watching me for any signs of rejection.

There were none. I was simply going to make her wait a bit longer. In quiet resignation, she spread her legs for me and made an effort to look like she was inviting me inside.

Reaching between us, I aimed my cock at her shaved pussy, the one concession I yielded to her on, after she begged me to let her keep it bare. She claimed that all the girls her age were shaved and when taking showers in school it was embarrassing to have a bush.

With a quick thrust, I was inside her, at least partway, a gasp escaping from her lips. She was as tight as you'd imagine any eighteen year old to be, especially one that wasn't expecting to get fucked, and one that wasn't getting fucked by anyone by me.

That was one of the perks of my job.

As I slid inside to my balls, I saw her bite her lip, the depth of my penetration still relatively new to her. She then ran her tongue across her lips, wetting them absentmindedly, the same lips and tongue that would be sucking my cock soon, when her hunger would finally be sated. My cock throbbed at that thought.

As my wife awakened and rolled over, she opened her eyes and saw that I was balls deep inside of her niece and gave me a wistful but compassionate look. She reached over and lightly touched her niece's hair, causing the young girl to turn her head towards the First Lady, her aunt.

She saw the advanced condition in her niece's eyes, the redness, and looked back to me, watching me stroke in and out of the tightly stretched opening.

"Let her have it," she said to me in a gracious yet almost detached way.

I nodded slightly, but then exhibited just a bit of the cruel streak that men were now prone to do, given their manifest position these days in society.

"Oh God...yes...yes..." as I closed my eyes and stroked faster, acting as though my orgasm was impending. I could feel my niece's body go rigid beneath me.

"Noooooooooooooooooo!!!!" she cried out, her hands moving to my chest to push me off of her. When she saw the smirk of my slightly curled lip, it took her quasi-drug spiked brain a moment to realize that I was not being serious. Her lips formed the letter "F" and I suspect it was for the word "Fucker" and not "Funny", but she restrained her output.

I pulled out and lay down on my back, indicating it was her time now. She quickly moved between my legs, her sole focus now on how to get me to cum, soon, in her mouth.

My wife knew that this was her time too, and moved to straddle my face, but looking toward her niece, watching her suck my hard, pussy-juice coated cock into her mouth, remembering not too long ago when she too had to suck me off or face death.

For me, this was my time, if you could call it that. My wife had settled her trimmed pussy onto my face and I was licking her while she pinched her own nipples, and my cock was being devoured by my 18 year old niece. I knew I wasn't going to last too long.

She had probably been made to wait a day too late, because at this stage, the blow job lacked real technique. It was more of a suck the cum from my balls as quickly as possible operation. Not that having a 18 year old deep throating your cock is, by any stretch of the imagination, bad, it's just that you'd like a little variety in the technique, or, maybe some ball action.

My wife was starting to cum, which got my hips starting to pump a bit. This signaled to my niece that I was getting close. She quickly wet her fingers by running them along her pussy lips (she would never, ever let go of my cock with her lips), and then pushed the tip of her longest finger inside my ass, then curling it to rub along my prostate, to coax me into a maximum release. More cum meant more satisfaction.

My wife moaned and was drenching my face, which combined with the blow job and anal stimulation sent me over the top.

I could hear my niece moaning as my hot load of cum exploded into her mouth, providing her with the life-sustaining supplement. She greedily swallowed everything, her finger rubbing inside me, trying to sweet-talk my body into giving up more semen, her tongue licking all around the head, the tip probing my opening to secure any last vestiges of the fluid.

She finally released me from her mouth and finger and lay with her head on my thigh, her warm breath teasing my now softening cock as she alternated between breathing and whispering "thank you for the White".

My wife moved off of my face and curled up next me, orgasmic bliss written across her. I put my arm around her and we cuddled, our reverie only interrupted by her question, "Is tonight Sarah's?" and me silently acknowledging her with a slight nod of my head.

Yes, I mused, tonight our eighteen year old daughter was on the schedule to collect my semen, the White, from me.


Chapter 2 - Presidential Pardon

"Mr President," said Julie Sereph, my appointments secretary, "you have the Committee to Allocate Men Ethically at 10am, and then a security briefing at 11, sir."

I looked first at my watch, 9:45am, then at her and nodded, noticing some redness in her eyes. A few years ago, I would have suspected that she was crying. Now...

"Julie," and as I paused, her head snapped up from the folders that she was busily shuffling at the side of my desk.

"Yes, Mr. President?," a look of concern forming.

"Have you been...are you..." I softened my voice, "your eyes seem a little red this morning."

If I thought her eyes were red, it was nothing to the shade that her face turned, almost matching her hair color.

"I'm sorry, sir, my sister, you see, she's visiting, and there was a mix-up in her temporary allocation form, and rather than send her home early, because I don't get to see her very often, sir, so..." she was rambling on quite speedily now.

I raised my hand to silence her, and she stopped talking, but looked nervous. She knew she had violated protocol by allowing her sister to take her turn at the White House Allocation Center on K-level, known as WHACK.

The President picked up the phone, pressed a few buttons, and was soon talking with the Director of WHACK.

"Mary? I'm going to send my secretary Julie down to see you now." A pause. "Yes, Mary, thank you."

Hanging up the phone, he saw tears forming at Julie's eyes.

"No report will be filed, Julie. There will be no record of this."

The young woman stifled an outburst, mumbled her gratitude, twice, and left the Oval Office. I tried not to think too much about what she would be doing in about ten minutes.

Doodling until my next appointment, I noticed something, and smiled at the irony. Whoever worked up the name for the Committee to Allocate Men Ethically had some fun with that acronym.


Chapter 3 - Missing

As I walked into the conference room, everything stopped and everyone jumped to attention. I still found that kind of annoying, but there were enough things in the world that needed serious attention, and my lack of appreciation for certain protocols was not one of them.

"As you were," I said, moving to my normal chair, with people moving all around me, supplying me with a snack, drink, paperwork, and more. I wondered if they practiced this routine, or if there was a manual.

I looked around at the people at the table. There were 19 people, 18 of them female. The devastation of the male population was simply unnerving. While many positions of power were still held by males, in many cases, there were females moving into these positions and into the supporting roles. In the wink of an epoch second, the whole face of our population, our society, had changed dramatically.

"Let's get started, shall we?" I said, and then sat back and listened to a variety of people drone on with their well-prepared reports.

After just over two years, the White Plague itself was virtually eradicated, just a few outbreaks in isolated areas, none in the United States. Our population had stabilized at about 172 million, with the world population hovering at 3.8 billion people, about the same that it was 40 years ago. Approximately 90% of the male population had been wiped out. 100% of the female population, rather, 100% of those of the age that were subject to menstruation, were affected in what some considered a much more heinous way.

Women, those who had reached puberty, actually menstruation, were dependent upon the ingestion of human male semen for their survival, approximately once every three days. Without it, death was inevitable, typically within a few days. Even more disturbing was the discovery that the best source for "the White", as it was designated, was a blood relative. It had something to do with gene sequencing and Rh factor mutations. The closer the relation, the more powerful the White worked, giving women full strength and full health. Those who ingested the White from non-related parties could expect more susceptibility to disease, less energy, irregular bone calcification, and other maladies that made life a regular struggle.

An odd side effect was the postponing of menstruation among most females for on average a period of 5-6 years. The estrogen estradiol was affected by mutations. Given the treatment for the White Plague, the delay in years was seen as the one break that human females got, as the population struggled to maintain some dignity.

Dignity was difficult because while the semen could be manually or mechanically removed from the male's body, within minutes of doing so, without proper instant freezing to a very low temperature, the semen would break down and lose it life-sustaining potency. Semen collection centers could afford these expensive and bulky units, but normal households could not. Therefore, the only logical path was for the female in need to perform fellatio on the selected male.

When menstruation did hit, however, it struck with few warning signs, and the need for White was instantaneous that first time. It woke girls from sleep. The hunger needed to be satisfied right away.

Most of the rioting around the world had stopped, along with the unintended killings of men. Jealousy was still an issue, there were obviously sexual revulsion issues, and there were still many women dying due to religious objections to ingesting the White.

There was concern about the birth rate, which had dramatically shrunk. Not many wanted to waste the White trying to get pregnant. The idea of terminating female fetuses was floated for a while, but didn't get much traction in the now female-dominated Congress.

The biggest push seemed to be for regulation of supply, government collection centers, and harsh penalties for violations. Where in the past Selective Service registration for men was just for information, there would be a new type of registration for males, as well as mandatory service in said collection centers. Males between the ages of 18 and 60 would be required to report to collection centers on a regularly scheduled basis. There would be various programs available based on work schedules, school, vacations, etc. Collection would be handled through multiple means, from "live" collection to administrative milking. Each male would be evaluated for collection potential, for relatives that would get first priority, and their schedule adjusted accordingly. Guidelines had been developed by the Committee to Allocate Men Ethically (CAME).

Drugs were being evaluated to help boost the supply of semen produced, and the number of times per day that it could be collected. The average male was expected to produce three ejaculations per day, seven days a week. To stay healthy, a woman needed to ingest one full ejaculation every three days.

"So, if I'm understanding the numbers correctly, the average male can sustain nine females per month."

A few heads nodded while the Vice President replied affirmatively.

"If the population is approximately 10 females who need treatment for every 1 male capable of production...a ratio of 9-1 doesn't work, now does it?" continued the President.

There was some paper shuffling, heads slightly turning away...all the makings of an answer that I wasn't going to like.

"Madam Vice-President?"

"Sir, the numbers reflect a 9-1 ratio with everyone getting a supply every three days. We anticipate a certain percentage of the population will continue to refuse treatment for religious reasons, and, we can also expect that some will simply refuse, well, certain lesbian populations, well sir, they're refusing...they're using black market substitutes from farm animals and trying untested synthetic substitutes and--"

"I get it. And..."

"Well, sir, a certain percentage of the population, well, we just can't--," she was cut off.

"You're talking about Prop 911." The President paused, looking around at those in the room with him. "What groups?"

"Prisoners. Addicts. Mental Patients. Non-citizens." It was the Secretary of Defense who spoke up, a grizzled older man who'd seen his fair share of trouble over the years.

"How will it be handled?" The President was now tight-lipped.

Consulting his paperwork, the Secretary of Defense continued onward.

"Female prisoners will be subject to forced testing. So will female addicts when found or caught," he paused for a second, "female mental patients too." There was some grumbling.

"Non-citizen females will be expatriated to their native lands. If they're refused, they'll be subject to mandatory testing also." He looked up and met the President's gaze. "All will be given the option of the Black."

The room was dead silent, all eyes on the President.

The Black was a concoction of drugs that highly accelerated the death caused by lack of the White. Instead of suffering an agonizing death that was protracted over several long, painful days, you would go to sleep and simply never wake-up. It was known in circles as The Kevorkian.

"And the testing?"

"Mr. President, if we can find a cure, an inoculation, or some type of drug to counteract the need, we can make all of this go away, this, this abomination."

The meeting was momentarily interrupted when a message was passed to the President by a Secret Service agent who had rushed in.

After reading it, the President, who blanched and then rose quickly, followed by everyone else in the room, looked at the Secretary.

"I'll get back to you on this." He then left quickly, followed by his security detail.

Outside the conference room the Agent-in-Charge was on his cell phone as the President approached. He held up one finger to the President, silently asking for a moment. Impatient, the President waited and watched. The agent lingered half a minute longer, then clicked off.

"Mr. President, she's been missing from about 7:30 this morning. No foul play is suspected. We think, sir, that she just wandered off. We've got all our agents being called in, as well as Metro police."

"National Guard?" inquired the President.

"We could use their help, sir."

"Make it happen. Whatever you need, you call it in. I want her found and brought here."

"Yes, sir!" said the agent, once again activating his phone and moving off.

My wife just rounded the corner and saw the look on my face. She rushed over.

"What? What's happened." She was right in front of me now, her hand touching my arm at the elbow.

"It's Sarah. She missing."


Chapter 4 - Desperation

"Please...please let me have it," begged the young girl to her captors.

The two men simply grinned at her. They'd found her wandering down the street, aimlessly, until she saw them. They thought she would run, and, in fact, she did...right at them. When she asked for some White from them, they grinned the first time at her. Now, they were grinning again, grateful that the temporary dementia caused by White deprivation was working in their favor.

"What's yer' name sweet thing?" said the one with the bad haircut and lots of tattoos.

"It's-s-s-s-aaarah," said the attractive co-ed, wearing a short dress under her coat, showing off ample legs.

"Well Ssssaaarah, what can we do for you?" replied the one with the receding hairline and pock-marked face.

"I n-n-need some White. Please." She looked back and forth to each of them for some sign.

The two bums looked at each other as if they'd won the lottery.

"How much money do you have on you?" ask Bad Haircut.

Sarah looked stunned, then reached into her pockets, coming up with nothing. She hadn't thought to bring her purse with her.

"I um...um..." she stumbled.

"You come here, looking for White, and you don't have any money?" snorted Pock Face. "You know how valuable our White is, missy?" he sneered at her.

"I'm sorry...I...forgot...I have money back home I can get you...please...just let me have some White now and I'll go get money and bring it back, I promise," desperation in her voice.

"Did you hear that," said Bad Haircut, "missy here has mistaken us for some kinda' bank!" He looked back at Sarah and spoke harshly. "We don't lend out our White. You need cash in advance."

"Please...there's gotta' be something..." said Sarah, looking at her Cartier watch, "here, you can have this nice watch," she continued while starting to take it off.

"Do we look like we need a watch, missy?" sneered Bad Haircut.

"Take your clothes off." Pock Mark found his voice again.

"My clothes? But...I don't...I can get the White without..."

"If you want the White, take your clothes off. We'll have ourselves a little party here," said Pock Mark, grinning over at Bad Haircut.

Sarah was desperate and knew now that the only way she was possibly gonna' get some White was to strip and get it on with them.

"If...if I do...you'll...you will give me the White...right?" she said tentatively.

"Of course, missy...you can drink all the White you want," said Bad Haircut, absentmindedly rubbing his crotch with one of his hands.

Long since having lost true modesty, Sarah took off her jacket, revealing a short dress. She removed it next, not looking at the two men. Her hunger simply had the best of her; she was ready to practically do anything for the White. She removed her bra and then her panties, standing completely naked in front the two astonished men.

Pock Mark and Bad Haircut thought that they'd either hit the lottery, or, died and gone to Heaven. Either way was fine with them as they looked at the stunning naked girl standing in front of them. Her perky, pink-nippled tits. Her shaved cunt. Not wanting the dream to end, they both quickly removed their clothes. Being that it was Sunday, they both had participated in the local shelter's free shower program the night before, so they were actually relatively clean. Not that they particularly cared.

Both men led Sarah over to Pock Mark's bed, which was the larger of the two mattresses thrown on the floor in the room.

"Wait," said Bad Haircut, as he grabbed one of the newer sheets they had and threw it down on the bed.

Sarah didn't really notice. Her focus was on the two cocks near her. She dropped to her knees and started licking Pock Mark's cock, then popped it into her mouth. She felt Bad Haircut's hands on her, and she almost recoiled but her survival instinct kicked in, and she simply took his touching and probing as best she could.

Bad Haircut was having a field day. He pulled Sarah's hips towards him and motioned for Pock Mark to lay down, which he did, all the while Sarah's mouth never losing its connection to his cock.

Bad Haircut reached between her legs and began fondling Sarah's pussy, rubbing the slit and realizing that she was already wet...one of the side effects of White deprivation. Wasting no time, he placed his cock at her opening and pushed inside, listening to her muffled sounds as he bottomed out inside of her, then began a quick paced stroking in and out.

Just as Sarah began to get into a good rhythm with the cock in front of her, Pock Mark pulled back from her and Bad Haircut stopped and pulled out.

"Waaaaiiitttttttttt...I'm not done..." whined Sarah.

"Neither are we," said Bad Haircut, laying down in front of her then pushing his pussy-coated member toward her face.

Sarah dove on it, lustfully sucking it within her mouth. She quickly applied suction, determined to get some White soon.

Pock Mark realized that this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, a hot young babe like this, so he decided to make the best of it. Using some old rope, he quickly bound her around the thighs and the arms. Sarah noticed but it didn't matter. Cock mattered.

Eying the young woman's darker opening, Pock Mark placed the wet head of his cock up against it and without further pause, punched his hips forward, sending the head and several inches into the girl's ass.

The reaction was immediate. Sarah's eyes opened wide and her head came flying off the cock in her mouth as she screeched at the searingly painful intrusion. No guy had ever stuck a finger inside her ass, let alone tried to fuck her there! Her arms reached back to try and reduce the penetration.

The men reacted too, and being far stronger, plus outnumbering her, their wishes became reality.

Bad Haircut reached up and grabbed Sarah by both ears and guided her back onto his cock. "You want the White missy? Then shut up and suck!"

Pock Mark grabbed hold of both of Sarah's wrists as she flailed at him. This gave him the exact leverage he needed to press forward with his hips while pulling her by the wrists back against him. Inch after inch of his cock sunk deeper into Sarah's virginal asshole, sending waves of searing pain into her brain.

With nothing to balance herself with, and trying to escape the ass agony she was experiencing, Sarah didn't resist moving forward, causing her mouth to sink deeper onto Bad Haircut's cock until she felt it start pushing into her throat, gagging her.

It was this classic position, the spit roast, that Secret Service agents came upon. They saw the President's daughter getting raped by two bums and shouted out "Freeze! Secret Service!"

Pock Mark and Bad Haircut, both sex-deprived for many years, had no intentions of letting anyone interfere with their sex fest with this hot slut. They quickly withdrew from the girl and went for guns that were within a short reach of the mattress.

Both were shot dead immediately by the sharpshooters.

"Noooooooooooooooooo!!!" shouted Sarah, seeing the two White donors dead around her. She immediately dove on one cock, trying to see if she could coax the White out from the still hard appendage before it was too late for him, and her.

As one Secret Service agent alerted his superior that the First Daughter was now safe, two others went and got her, pulling her off the corpse while she called them every curse word she could think of, while another gathered up her clothes.


Chapter 5 - Sharing A Moment

I found my wife in our private study. She wasn't reading briefs, or talking to constituents or party members. She wasn't making notes for memoirs, or even using her iPad to keep up on the news.

She was curled up on the sofa in the fetal position, eyes scrunched closed, crumpled tissue in hand. Broke my heart.

I sat down next to her and at the weight shift in the cushion her eyes opened in alarm and she started to bolt upwards.

"It's okay, babe...Sarah's safe, they found her. The White, it struck early with her this time but she's safe." Tears sprung to her eyes as a smile broke across face, like the dawn of a new day. We hugged, silently.

"Jack," she said quietly, pulling back just a bit, "something has to be done. It's so dangerous out there for women, but also for men. Some of my contacts have told me that there are gangs of women now, roaming the streets, looking for stray men. They mostly prey on homeless men, but they'll attack any man they find. They'll..." she trailed off, looking for the right word in this intimate moment that we were sharing, "...drain them, and if he can't supply enough of the White, there are reports of castration, seeking more White from the source. It's terrible."

I knew she was right, but, I also knew that there were very few options. I suspect that she knew that too, but in this emotional moment, there was little to do but agree with her and console.

"I'm trying, babe. I am. I just wish I could come up with a solid plan. I'm pissed that I don't have the answer, and..." she cut me off with a kiss on the lips. Pulling back, she looked at my eyes, seeking some answer. She must have found what she was looking for, as she kissed me again, this time harder, with more passion, her tongue slipping into my mouth. I felt her hand press up against my crotch. This I wasn't expecting, and despite the early morning ball-draining by my niece, my cock started to respond in normal fashion.

"Make love to me, Jack," she said, off my lips again but having moved her face to the side of mine, her breath warm against my ears. My body quivered with desire. I may have been supplying the White for my fair share of females, but my one true love was this woman.

We undressed quickly and I lay her back on the sofa. There was no need, nor time really, for preliminaries, so between her spread legs I went, her hand guiding my now hard cock between her wet pussy lips and inside of her. I thrust forward and sunk all the way. I loved the way her eyes would glaze over when I was inside of her, stroking, and she'd lick her fingertips and reach down and play with her sugary nipples.

I pulled her legs up high, over my shoulders, and as I thrust deep, and hit bottom, her eyes would roll backwards...she was in bliss, if only for a few moments escaping the tragedy our world had become.

Despite three children, she was still quite tight and the moment was getting to me. I could feel her orgasm, feel her pussy clenching me, and knew I wasn't going to be riding on this train for long.

"Jack...cum in my mouth..." and with that I slowed my pace a bit. This was totally unexpected! Ever since she stopped having to take the White, about a year ago, she never wanted me to finish in her mouth. In fact, she rarely ever gave me head anymore. And I actually enjoyed finishing in her pussy, and occasionally her ass, versus all of the mouth orgasms I'd get each week.

"Jack...please..." she looked at me with a twinkle in her eye, and a wry smile, "...for old times sake...let me swallow you."

Even as President of the United States, I could not refuse such a request.

My need for release waned just a bit during that interlude, so I began thrusting harder again, using that groin muscle to make my cock throb inside of her as it reached her depths. She groaned and again began squeezing her nipples, shooting for yet another orgasm.

As I felt myself getting closer, I withdrew and got out from between her legs. She sat up and put her back to the sofa, leaning against it. I got up onto it, straddling her, and pushed my cock into her open mouth, one of her hands coming to rest on my ass, pulling me deeper.

There are not many men who can say they were deepthroated by the First Lady; I was lucky to be among that small number.

As I watched her lips move up and down my cock, her tongue licking away her pussy's secretions, I could feel the suction level increasing. Her hand left my ass and moved to my balls, cupping and gently squeezing them, milking them, priming me to release.

It was her moaning around my cock that did it, though. I looked down and saw her eyes screwed closed and then caught her arm movements, tracing them to her hand between her legs. She was masturbating while sucking me off, and she was cumming!

Each week I shot load after load of cum into women's mouths, so you'd think it wouldn't be special any longer, but that's not true. Emptying my balls for a second time this morning, it was special because this woman was my wife.

She wasn't sucking my cock because her life depended on it. She was sucking my cock, and right now, swallowing my thick, spermy load, because she loved me.

But, I thought, what about our daughter and her needs, as I watched my wife swallow again.


Chapter 6 - And Along Came Mary

"Where is my daughter?" I asked the head of my security detail.

"She's en route, ETA is 10 minutes, Mr. President."

"Okay. When she gets here, take her upstairs. Quietly." I emphasized the last word.

"Yes, sir," was the reply, and then he was off, coordinating with others.

Using my cell phone, I had another call to make.

"Mary? It's Jack again. I --" she interrupted me, "--yes, no, that's fine, go ahead," as she began to update me on Julie, my secretary. I listened as patiently as I could. She was quick about it. Julie was fine.

"Okay, thank you Mary. Listen, I need you to come up to the residence and give me a boost." I waited for the inevitable pause, and then warning.

"I understand, Mary -- twice today already -- no -- my daughter will be here in just a few minutes and -- no, I don't want a surrogate sent up. Come upstairs NOW!" and I clicked off.

I wasn't really mad at Mary, just at myself for going off with my wife when I knew that my daughter was going to need me, and three times in such a short time period was going to be a problem. With the supplements, I was sure I could get it up again and could produce some white, but "some" white might not be enough white. That's why I requested the booster shot. It was a new, albeit controversial drug that very quickly amped up sperm production in human males. The downside is that it made the amped up males, well, the side effects weren't always pleasant. And, because of where the shot was administered, it was quite painful.

I arrived upstairs in the residence a few minutes before the Secret Service let Mary into the room. She looked every bit the doctor in her white cloak. She didn't say anything, and I knew from the look that she totally disapproved, but I *was* the President. She removed the hypo from her cloak and waited for me to drop my slacks, which I did. I dropped my boxers too. She handed me a padded stick, which I inserted into my mouth and bit down on, as she dropped to her knees in front of me, taking my balls, quite familiar balls, in her hands.

"I'm applying a quick acting desensitizer, Mr. President, but, as you know, it isn't the needle that typically hurts."

I could hear some sympathy in her voice. She knew why I was doing this, that I didn't want my daughter to have to blow some other surrogate male. I also felt her breath on my penis.

As she injected the drug into my sack, I bit down hard on the stick as the burning sensation took effect. It was terribly painful, and there was nothing Mary could do but watch me endure it and make sure I didn't hurt myself as I yelled and staggered about.

A minute passed and the pain began subsiding. The Secret Service knocked and Mary answered, directing them to escort Sarah into a bedroom.

"Are you alright, Mr. President?" she inquired. "Jack?" She was one of the few who could use my first name, as Mary was one of the select few who was on my list of recipients for the White. She was widowed and a family friend. Closer now, due to the White.

"I'm okay...I just need a minute. You can go, Mary, and thank you."

She nodded, and then turned and left. I gathered myself and then walked to the bedroom and entered.

My daughter Sarah was bound in an outfit suitable for an insane asylum. It was standard procedure, but it still hurt to see her like that. Upon my entrance, the two agents immediately removed her restraints and then left the room.

Sarah should not have gone into White Panic, as it was called, for another couple of days, which is why she was scheduled for a visit tonight. It was one of the mysteries of the White, that the need, on rare occasions, would spring forth a day or so ahead of time, sometimes causing major scheduling issues.

As soon as the agents were out of the room, Sarah moved towards me.

"Wait," I said, putting up my hands, "it's going to take five to ten minutes, maybe fifteen for the drug to kick in."

"WHAT?" she practically shouted. "I can't wait that long, Daddy." She paced back and forth for a minute, and then looked at me as if I were a piece of meat and she a carnivore. Despite her White-crazed stupor, she must have come up with an idea.

My head was pounding. The effect of the drug was like taking a half dozen Viagra, where one might give you a slight throbbing in your head (among other places), six would definitely produce bad results. This was more refined, of course, so most of the bad side effects were negated, but it still produced some head pounding, and nothing could negate the aggressiveness and sometimes the disorientation.

Sarah began peeling off her clothes, first her jacket, then her dress, then her bra and panties, until she was standing naked in front of her father.


Chapter 7 - Jekyll & Hyde

I think I know how Dr. Bruce Banner feels right as he begins to transform. Heavy breathing, a feeling of something bad about to happen.

I was staring at my daughter's pussy. Then her eyes. Then back to her pussy. My breathing was ragged.

"Do you like my pussy, Daddy?" asked Sarah, putting her hand down to it, partially covering up her thin, brown, landing strip, and using her fingers to spread her outer lips open. "It's really tight, Daddy. Would you like to fuck me? I'll let you, you know, if you just let me have the White."

I grunted at the word "fuck". Had never heard her use it before. It sounded good, though, coming from her.

Seeing me not agreeing yet, she turned and presented her ass to me.

"Daddy, what about my ass?" She now was pulling on one cheek, opening her crack up so I could see her asshole. I grunted once again.

"I was a virgin in my ass until today, Daddy, so you can't take my cherry there, but I'm still very tight I bet. Do you wanna' fuck me in the ass, Daddy?" She was practically begging me.

When the drug takes full effect, you feel a sudden rush into your balls, sorta' like a faucet being turned on. They swell somewhat, as a large amount of semen and sperm is produced. Blue balls on steroids Yeah.

I'd had enough of her teasing, the bitch.

Moving quickly, I grabbed her arm and hip and pushed her towards the bed. She was babbling something but I was through listening. Slut needed some fucking.

Onto the bed she went, on her knees with my hand now on the back of her neck, pushing it down to the comforter. But there was no comfort in any of this. My cock went right to her young pussy, and pushed inside, the head separating her lips and entering.

There was no waiting on my part, no being nice. I wanted to fuck, period. Two inches, four inches, six inches, finally every inch buried in my daughter's cunt. It registered somewhere that she was talking to me, encouraging me I think. I didn't care. I was enjoying this immensely. I was pretty sure this was the first time I had fucked her. Why did I wait so long to do this? This was GREAT!!

As I pulled back until just the head was inside and then thrust balls deep in one in-stroke, I reveled in the tight wetness of her pussy. I thrust back and forth several times and then realized I may have been holding her neck too tight, so I loosened my grip a bit, but not too much. Didn't want her bolting away for some reason. This felt too good to let that happen.

I looked down and saw her asshole peeking up at me. As I thrust deep, it'd get hidden for a second, then as I withdrew I could see it again. It was like a game. I liked this game...hide the starfish! Oh yeah...this feels good!

An idea popped into my head as I played the game. I wet my finger with my mouth and then pressed it up against the little starfish...pop! Right inside! I pushed it all the way inside...wow...I added a second finger...now look at the little slut move now!

"You like fingers in your ass, lil' slut?" I said to her, fucking her harder now with both my fingers and my cock.

"Gimme' the White, Daddy! Pleassssssseee!"

"I'll give you the White, slut, after I sample that sweet-lookin' ass of yours!" I pulled my fingers out of her ass and replaced them with my cock, pushing forward and down, sinking several inches and watching her legs start to spasm.

"Oh god, Daddy, it hurts...it hurts...but it's okay...anything for you...anything for the White..." babbled Sarah.

"You got a really tight ass, bitch," I said, pressing forward, letting go of her neck and putting both hands on her hips, giving me the leverage to fuck her tight little ass at faster and faster speeds.

I could feel a huge orgasm brewing inside of me.

"I'm gonna' love blowing this huge load inside your ass, you fucking whore!"

"Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!" cried the President's daughter, not from the epic ass fucking she was receiving, but from the fact that her father just announced that he intended to cum in her ass and not allow her to drink the White!


Chapter 8 - Send In The Clowns

"Ma'am?" asked the Secret Service agent.

As she watched her husband pummel her daughter's ass, she could see, and hear, that he'd gone off the reservation.

"Send them," was her reply, and her order. Technically, as First Lady, the Constitution granted her no powers, and should the President be temporarily incapacitated, the Vice President would assume control. However, given the events of the past two years, many facets of life had changed, and the Secret Service, determined to protect the President and his family, knew what to do and acted accordingly.

Four large men, dressed in full clown regalia, burst into the bedroom and hauled the President off of his daughter, each man holding an arm or a leg and laying him back onto the bed, ignoring his protests, threats, and screams of panic.

His daughter, seemingly oblivious to the bizarre episode that was unfolding, scampered around in front of her Dad and immediately took his cock into her mouth. The attack by the clowns had staved off his impending eruption into his daughter's ass, but had not diminished his erection, much to her delight.

In her state, she wasted no time with sensual movement. Gobbling deep, she bobbed her head up and down in rapid fashion while massaging his balls, urgently trying to coax the life-sustaining load from his now overfilled balls.

It wasn't a long wait.

With the administration of the drug, an oversupply of semen was available and Sarah was euphoric when the first taste of it hit her tongue. She stopped bobbing and just sucked and licked, and then became quickly overwhelmed by the massive cumshot. It was both the quantity of ejaculate and the number of ejaculations that swamped her. She couldn't swallow fast enough and some shot out her nose and leaked out of her lips. She quickly licked up the excess.

The President, restrained through the whole process, was milked dry and sapped of all energy. When his orgasm him, he stopped struggling against his captors, who soon after, upon seeing the orgasm subside, released him and immediately exited the room, trying to provide him with some scrap of dignity.

Sarah lay back, feeling the effect of the White flooding her system, the equivalent of multiple orgasms hitting all at once.

The door to the room opened once again, though quietly this time.

It was the First Lady, who went to the closet and retrieved two blankets, first covering her daughter, and then covering her lover, her husband, her President.

She held him as he began to shiver. This was an expected after effect. Mary had visited the First Lady after administering the shot to the President and alerted her as to what was going on, so that she could discretely monitor the situation.
There was roughly a 50-50 chance that someone taking the drug would forget who they were, who they were with, etc. It was awful, and she needed to be here when he snapped out of his stupor. Right now he was simply shaking and curling into a ball.

"It's okay, Jack. I'm here," said his wife, holding him and talking softly to him.

It took almost fifteen minutes for him to recover and stop shaking.

"Oh...oh god...oh...what have I done?" Jack began, looking around with clear eyes.

"Hush, Jack...it's okay, everything is okay."

"No, I, I think, I think I hurt Sarah, I think--"

"Jack," the First Lady cut him off, "she's fine, look," and she showed where Sarah had moved to a big, comfy chair and was sleeping.

The President quieted down and reflected for a few moments. As quickly as the drug hit, it broke down in the system rapidly too, and he had his wits back.

"I'm going to go ahead with Proposition 911. We can't go on this way."

"Jack, it's just a proposition, you--"

"I'm going to make it an Executive Order. I'm not waiting for Congress to act. As horrific as it is, it has to happen. I'll take whatever heat there is to take."

"Oh, Jack," said the First Lady softly, holding the President against her bosom.


Chapter 9 - Enter Sandman

Looking directly at the camera, the President began his address.

"Good evening. As we are all painfully aware, the White Plague has been the most devastating single event in the history of this planet, and quite possibly more devastating than all others combined. Billions have been lost, families torn apart, nations in disarray. And, while on some fronts it is getting better, overall, we are still a nation, a world, that is suffering. Drastic action is needed to try and stem this awful tide of despair and devastation.

"I'm here to announce that I have signed a version of Proposition 911 and made it into an Executive Order. For those of you unfamiliar with this document, I will highlight the important portions of it.

"Effective immediately, all male prisoners convicted of a felony now or in the past and in prison for terms of one year or longer will enter into a forced milking program, adding to our sources and supplies of the White.

"All female prisoners convicted of a felony and in prison for terms of one year or longer will be subject to experimental testing of White vaccines, as determined by the Organization for the Application of Scientific Methods. Lifers will be the first to be tested.

"Female addicts will similarly be rounded up for testing. The provision for the testing of female mental patients has been removed. All female non-citizens will be deported to their native countries, or face mandatory testing.

"All women who are no longer of an age to be affected by the White will be excluded from this law. Further, any female in the aforementioned groups who does not wish to be part of the test has the option of choosing the Black instead.

"Our country is at war, and we no longer have the luxury of idly sitting by and hoping for the best. We need to be proactive, and the only way to eradicate the White once and for all is through aggressive testing with no FDA waiting period.

"To assist, I have suspended the Posse Comtatus Act, and have the Army and the Marine Corps already in deployment within our borders to supplement and assist the National Guard in maintain law and order.

"May God bless us in our quest to rid our world of this horrible scourge Good night."


Chapter 10 - Hell Hath No Fury

To say that there was an upheaval after the President finished his address would be akin to saying the plague was an inconvenience to family life.

Riots started in nearly every prison across the land, followed by random acts of violence against government buildings and other landmarks. National parks were even set on fire. By and far, it was females initiating and involved in the revolt.

As the Army and Marines moved in, their initial response was general suppression and an attempt at establishing peace, but it became apparent quickly that there would be no easy settlement. When four young soldiers were brutally shot and then set on fire by some radicals, some of them still alive, a bystander capturing the executions with a cell phone and then passing it along to a network feed, the country became galvanized against this insurrection. Soldiers exchanged rubber suppression-style bullets for standard ones, and retribution was swift and harsh.

Within 48 hours, much of the anarchy had been put to ground and while there were still pockets of violence, they were rare and dealt with by overwhelming force and finality.


Chapter 11 - A New Dawn

"Tara," asked the President of his youngest daughter, "would you please pass the corn."

"Yes, Daddy." As the eighteen-year-old reached for the bowl in front of her, for the third time today she saw that her hand trembled a bit. Willing it to stop hadn't worked, so she took the bowl with both hands and handed it to her father.

The First Lady, acutely aware of anything involving her three daughters, watched the exchange taking place with a mixture of dread and relief. Dread that her daughter would soon be among those needing the White to survive, and relief in that she wouldn't be among the five percent of girls who mutated too much and never reached menstruation, and eventually died at a young age.

Later that evening, the First Lady was sitting in front of her makeup vanity, brushing her hair when her husband walked in, ready to retire for the evening. She could see from his movement that he was tired but restless. She went to him.

"Jack, is everything okay?" she said, putting her hands lightly on his chest which was now sans shirt.

"Yes, just some issues with the Israelis and Syria. You'd think with everything else going on that those assholes would--" he stopped as the First Lady kissed him.

"Honey," he said, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender, "I'm sorry, I'm kinda' tired--"

"Tara," said the First Lady, "is almost there." She looked into her husband's eyes as she reached down the outside front of his pants and began lightly rubbing his crotch.

"What do you mean, almost--" he replied, "--wait, you mean--" momentarily distracted as his wife licked playfully at one of his nipples.

"Yes, Jack...your little girl has grown up and will soon need to suck your cock." A mischievous smile appeared on her face as she saw the panic hit her husband's face as he quickly looked over at the communications panel on the wall.

"It's off," she said, indicating that she had blocked all sound and video and other eavesdropping methods from taking place. Because of the assassination of the last President by his wife after she found out he was banging an intern, even the bedroom of the President was typically monitored. When shuttered, only a shout of "Mayday!", the emergency word, would activate monitors and sound alarms, and cause Secret Service agents armed with automatic weapons to crash through the door.

"I've seen you looking at her, Jack," she continued, and the President knew this game. In front of the public, his wife was the matriarch, America's Mom, but behind closed doors, she would often become America's Slut, someone to help soothe him and wash away the stress of the job.

"Me? Never, I--" he was playing along now, their little game, perverted, debauched, and kinky rolled into one role playing fantasy.

"Daddy," she had now reverted to a voice that sounded eerily like their daughter, "I've seen you looking at me," the crotch rubbing now centered on her husband's growing erection, "do you think I'm sexy, daddy?"

"Baby, you shouldn't be doing this, if your Mother finds out--" he continued, the game one that they played not often, but an indication of how hot his wife was for sex this evening.

"I'm not going to tell, Daddy," she said, dropping to her knees in front of her husband, her lover, her President, fishing his cock out of his pants. She licked the head of it, tasting a scant drop of precum, and then slipped it into her mouth for the second time today.

Like the sound of a branch being broken in a quiet forest, the sound of the door being shut startled both of them.

It was Tara. Her hair was disheveled, typically unlike her, but it was her eyes that garnered both of her parent's attention; red, with dark looking circles.

"Daddy? I need...the White."

 

The Gathering of 2012

CAW 13 saw the writers having to pick one of many photos as their inspiration. I opted to write a story about Dungeons and Dragons. It was a fun story to write as it incorporated all sorts of craziness, from references to Star Trek and Richard Simmons, etc! Even if you haven't played D&D, you should still enjoy the story.

--------------------

The Gathering of 2012

Preface

I have never really given Goblins much thought over the years. They were not very powerful creatures, typically low in hit points, and generally more of an annoyance than anything else. DMs used them to fill in the gaps between the larger, more dangerous foes that adventurers would run across. But I gained a huge amount of respect for them during The Gathering of 2012.

Though the excitement had been building for weeks, it bubbled over on the Friday morning of the weekend of "The Gathering" as we called it. Once a year a group of my friends would get together and rent a house for a long weekend of Dungeons & Dragons, the fantasy, role-playing game. We'd been doing it for half a dozen years, and this year looked like it was going to be a winner. We'd located an old house in the wilds of upstate Maine, far away from civilization, one that had been on the market for quite some time with no takers. We got it for a steal, and everyone was looking forward to the reunion.

You're probably not that familiar with D&D, so here's a quick overview. A group of people gather around a table with some special dice, character information, and their imaginations. There's a group leader called the Dungeon Master, or DM for short, and his job is to create the adventure for the group. He comes up with a setting, describes it to everyone, and then the players, or adventurers, as we're called, describe what we'd do. So, we might get sent off on a quest to find some lost soul, or to clear some monsters from an underground lair. The DM plays the part of the characters we meet up with, and takes the part of the monsters. When we have combat, or look for treasure, or try and climb a building, we roll dice and depending upon our rolls, we succeed, or fail. Each of us has a different persona, or character.

Jamie, my girlfriend and life partner, played the part of a wizard. She could cast devastating spells against bad creatures that we'd run across. Guy was a barbarian, a very strong fighter, and his girlfriend Raina was a rogue, whose specialty was carrying out sneak attacks, and finding traps. Sheila was a hybrid, a fighter and a druid, and her specialties including working with nature and animals, and long range weapons (bow and arrows). Ash was a new player this year, a younger gal and friend of Sheila. I didn't know much about her or her character. Jake, Sheila's boyfriend, was the DM. And me? I was our cleric, so I was a divine spellcaster, a decent fighter, and our healer.

Chapter 1

"Babe, I've got our bags in the car. We probably have time for breakfast once you get done in..." my voice trailed off as I saw Jamie walk out of the bathroom, nude.

We'd been living together for three years now and she still took my breath away with her beauty. A shade over five feet tall, her slightly longer than shoulder length dark brown hair glistened with dampness from the shower. There was not one extra pound on her, and a beautiful smile that would light up any room she entered.

"You hungry baby?" she said, walking slowly towards me. "You want some breakfast?" I hoped I knew where this was going to go. "I've got some breakfast right here for you."

I was sitting on the edge of the bed, and Jamie pushed me back onto it, and then climbed up over top of me, positioning her knees on both sides of my head, straddling my face. In a baseball stadium, this would be called an obstructed view. In my book, I had the best view in the house.

She looked down at me coyly and then spread her knees apart slightly, lowering her trimmed pussy to my lips. I had already inhaled her scent and thought she was pretty aroused. The wetness of her lips and surrounding pussy hair confirmed my thoughts that she had been touching herself in the shower.

"Taste me, baby...taste me..." and who was I to argue with a beautiful woman.

The rest of the day was filled with a drive to the airport, a short flight, then a longer flight, and finally, after renting a car, a two hour drive to the rented house. As Jamie and I zeroed in on the place, well, it was breathtaking. It was a large, three-story mansion, a gothic style house that was situated on a small island in the middle of a lake, accessible via a drawbridge! (Okay, it was electrically operated, but still, it was a drawbridge!)

We were the last to arrive, and it was great to see everyone again. Guy and Raina had arrived a day early (we alternated each year with one couple arriving early to shop and get things prepared) and I could smell the steaks on the grill. Made my mouth water.

So had Jamie. On the ride up she was a constant tease. She'd slide a hand down inside her pants and play with herself for several minutes, then she'd pull her hand out and lightly trace her fingers across her lips, then push the fingers inside her mouth, then repeat the process for me to taste. Then she would rub my legs and crotch, getting me hard, and then slide her head down, and take me within her mouth, licking and sucking...then back off, back away...smile...and let me settle down, only to repeat it again...and again...and again...

Hugs went all around, and smiles were big and genuine. Was introduced to Ash for the first time. Short for Ashley, she was a tall, well-proportioned young woman with long, curly dirty-blonde hair. I could see what Sheila and Jake saw in her. She seemed a little shy, but with the rest of us being a bit boisterous, it could have just been her taking the group's temperature before jumping in with both feet.

Jamie and I got the fifty-cent tour as we were shown to our room. It was an older place, with huge windows, old, stuffed furniture, and the smell of leather. Our bedroom was on the second floor, and had a king-size four-poster bed complete with a fireplace and bathroom. There were more bedrooms on the second floor. The first floor had a large living room, a library, formal dining room, huge kitchen, and a den. I didn't ask about the third story.

Dinner was served so we all gathered in the main dining room. There was a table in the kitchen, but with seven of us, and the feast that was prepared, the dining room was in order. Grilled porterhouse steaks, baked potatoes, salad, several vegetables, and freshly baked bread filled everyone's bellies while the wine loosened tongues. We told tales of previous adventures, spoke of our lives outside of D&D, and agreed that this weekend looked like it was going to be one for the ages.

"So Ash," I began, looking to get our newest member more involved in the conversation, "why don't you tell us a bit about your character?"

She looked at me, first quizzically, then softening a bit and nodding gently. After taking a long swig of wine, which had me wondering exactly how old she was, she began.

"My character is a female elf vampire."

To say all eyes were glued to Ash was an understatement. Jake had a bit of a smirk on his face; I suspected that he knew previously what she was going to say. The rest of us just listened.

"Her name is Vrash. She's just a little over two thousand years old. Her mate...is dead. Killed by her." There was a slight gasp from Sheila. "Accidentally, of course. Vampire sex with a non-vampire can be...challenging." With that word she ended up looking over at Jake and Sheila. I was pretty sure that there was something going on there.

Elves and vampires were an unusual mix to say the least, which is why most of us were surprised by the choice she had made. But, to each his own. I was willing to give anyone a try, and Jake had personally vouched that she'd be fine, which was good enough for me.

We were all a bit tired from the journeys that we'd all made, so after clean up of the wonderful meal, we confirmed our game plan. We'd all head off to bed, get some sleep, and then meet up once again at 6am. From there we'd adventure all day and into the night, ending somewhere after midnight Saturday, sleep in a bit, and then go again until at least midnight again Sunday night. We'd only break for food.

Jamie and I headed off to our room, to bed, but not to sleep. No, I had some payback in mind for all her teasing from earlier today. I showered first while she looked around the room. When I got out, she stripped and went into the bathroom While waiting, I pulled things out of my bag and got stuff set up, dimming the lights low. It was cool enough so I started a small fire. As I heard the shower turn off, I walked into the bathroom, my hand holding the first piece of the evening's fun...a blindfold.

"What...oh?" said Jamie, a smile quickly forming on her face as I slipped the blindfold on her, then kissed her hard on the lips. I led her over to the bed and helped her up onto it and onto her back, first binding her arms, then her ankles, with silk scarves that were tied to the bedposts. Making sure that she couldn't move too much, I took the small vibrator and turn it on low, then placed it right along her slit, eliciting a low moan from her.

Now I had a little free time to check into something that intrigued me since we first got the specs on the place. While it was somewhat old-fashioned, there was one piece of equipment that looked promising. It was a not-so-state-of-the-art closed-circuit television system. I pulled out my laptop and called up a program that I hoped would give me some insight into the operating system. It seemed my skills, though not ninja-level, were adequate enough for me to get into the system. The password used was password123.

It took another few minutes or so before I got the knack and arranged all of the cameras in the place to report on my laptop. I eliminated the ones like kitchen, dining room, etc. and just focused on bedrooms. And I hit the lottery! Sex on the laptop, a voyeur's paradise.

Low moaning caught my attention, and I could see Jamie writhing on the bed, the vibrator nestled up against her pussy sending waves of lustful sensation through her clit. I brought the laptop over to the bed and placed it near Jamie's head. Then I removed the vibrator, and flipped her over onto her hands and knees and reattached the scarves.

"Jeepers creepers, what's that?" she asked, focusing on the images on the laptop.

"That, babe, is our entertainment for the evening."

With my right hand I began flipping through the "channels", from room to room; with my left, I began fondling Jamie's ass.

The first view showed Ash, in her room, doing what best could be described as calisthenics She was naked, doing a handstand, and she was alternating keeping her legs closed and perfectly vertical, and opening them, spreading them wide, exposing her pussy to our view.

"Ohmigod...that's really hot" whispered Jamie, as if she spoke too loudly she might be heard. Then she moaned as my hand move down her ass and between her legs, touching her wetness and rubbing her.

As Ash kept up her exercises, I moved on to another room that showed Jake sitting in bed, reading what appeared to be notes, while Sheila was out of view. Again, I moved on.

Bingo! Guy was standing up on the bed, his muscular physique on display while Raina kneeled before him, one hand on his hip, the other caressing his balls while her mouth and tongue worked over the head and shaft of his impressive-sized cock. There was no sound, so we couldn't hear anything, but I suspected that if we could, it would be a slurping sound of flesh on wet flesh as Raina repeatedly engulfed the meat in front of her.

Jamie's eyes were wide and glued to the screen as I moved behind her, looking lustfully at her hot ass and pussy. I moved closer and planted a kiss on one ass cheek, startling her, then hearing her quickly moan and push back. My tongue traced across her tight flesh and zeroed in on her pussy lips, darting between them, and getting my first taste of her desire this evening.

"Yesssss..." I heard her whisper, her toes curling and uncurling, her upper body lowering to the bed to present me with better access. As I continued my oral assault on her, Jamie moved her body in sync with me, rubbing her pussy on my face, helping me reach the spots she wanted licked.

"Oh God...Bruce...look...look at what he's doing..." I heard her whisper and so I stopped for a second and glanced at the laptop.

Raina was now in doggie position, head flat on the bed and turned toward the camera, though not looking at it. Her eyes were scrunched shut, probably in discomfort as Guy, from the looks of it, was attempting to enter her anally.

"It'll never fit...ummmm....yessssss..." continued Jamie, first looking at the screen, then commenting on my fingers which were rubbing her clit while I watched this spectacle unfold.

It must have been a very snug fit because we both could see Raina gripping the sheets tightly in her hand, and whipping her face from one direction to the next. It took a few minutes, but Guy managed to sink his cock almost to the hilt in Raina's ass, pausing then to perhaps catch his breath or maybe to let her body adjust to that stuffed feeling.

I went back to eating Jamie with a gusto, fueled by what I had seen. She was avidly watching the screen. We had anal sex once in a while; it just took so much out of her that we saved it for special occasions when we had lots of time to prep for it.

I moved my face away from the feast before me and moved my body closer. As I looked on the screen, I could see that Guy was now fucking Raina with a nice, steady pace, his long cock sliding in and out of her ass with little resistance.

My cock was plenty hard now and I slapped it several times against Jamie's ass, then slid it forward. It nudged up against her asshole, prompting her to quickly look back at me with alarm at no prep, no lube.

"Relax," I said with a disarming smile, and moved the head of my cock to the entrance of her pussy and then pushed forward, sinking in several inches and feeling her heat and wetness surround me.

"Yesssssssssssssss.....fuck me, babe, fuck me hard!"

Guy had reached down and grabbed both of Raina's wrists and pulled her arms back toward him, using her arms to give him thrusting leverage. He was now plowing her ass at will, like a true barbarian I mused to myself.

With all the teasing that she'd given me on the way up here, I knew two things. First, she needed some payback, and second, I wasn't going to last all that long in her pussy.

I wet my thumb and then pressed it against her back opening, pushing inside, simultaneously hearing her gasp in surprise and buck harder against me.

"Take it, tease," as I slid the digit in deeper, hearing her groan loudly now as her movements took on a frenzied pace with me pounding her pussy deep on each hard thrust.

"Yes, fuck me hard babe...I deserve it," she said, acknowledging the rougher play as payback for her cock teasing on the ride up.

I reached over with my free hand and loosened one arm restraint, and her hand immediately shot between her legs, alternating between rubbing her clit and grasping and mildly squeezing my balls.

If that wasn't quite enough to put us over the edge, VoyeurTV was, as Guy pulled out of Raina's ass and stood once again while Raina quickly turned around and grasped his cock with both hands, jerking him off and aiming his load for her face. She was quickly covered with his white spew.

That was enough for me, as I began unloading inside of Jamie, whose pussy was contracting and spasming around my cock as she reached orgasm together.

We collapsed on the bed and quickly fell asleep, not aware that we too were being watched, though not by anything human.

Chapter Two

The old-fashioned alarm clock scared the shit out of Jamie and I when it came to life at 5:00am. A sweeping movement across the nightstand that sent it clattering across the floor did nothing to dissuade it from the annoying cadence it was making. Jamie giggled while I settled for a smirk and the inevitable dash outta' bed to silence the little fucking mechanical beast then back under covers to the warmth once again.

After a brief snuggle with her, I once again extricated myself then cranked up the heat in the room. First up meant first in the bathroom, so I took care of business there, shavin' and showerin', etc. Then I got Jamie up and after I donned some clothes, I went downstairs to rustle up some breakfast.

I was the first one downstairs, so I opted to make breakfast for everyone. Not knowing preferences, I mixed up some cornbread, got the bacon frying, and made two dozen eggs, scrambled of course. People began dragging their asses downstairs as the smell wafted upstairs. Toast and bagels were available along with butter and various jams, and there was a variety of juices and milk to drink. Everyone ate up as if they'd been working up an appetite last night. It was raining outside, and we could see some flashes of lightning now and then.

As the old grandfather clock in the living room struck six times, everyone finished up and took care of their portion of the mess. As we started to move into the living room, Jake stopped us and led us over near a book case. He produced an older skeleton key, then moved aside a book, revealing an opening for the key. Very exciting! By turning it, the panel opened to reveal an elevator. Amidst the murmurs I heard Jake tell us to get in, so I took the plunge, followed by the rest of the group. Jake reached in and pressed the "3" button.

"Good luck, adventurers..." and with that, he stepped outside the elevator as the doors closed.

"Oh shit."

That came from Sheila, a typical response on her part when Jake did something that she wasn't expecting.

The elevator began a slow rumbling upward. It obviously wasn't built for speed, and there were a few hitches and jolts on the ride up. To say we were all wide awake right now was the epitome of understatement.

Finally we reached our destination, the elevator clanging to a stop. As the doors opened, well, it certainly wasn't what we were expecting. We were in the attic, I suppose, but it was quite large. One whole section of the roof, pointed towards the back I guess since we didn't notice it on the way in, was completely glass. The rain was pelting against it, and we were very aware now of the lightning and the rumbling of the thunder. There was no lighting except for the flashes outside and a few candles burning on the large, wooden table in the center of the room. There were just enough chairs for us, and, there was Jake, already seated at the table, in a dark cloak.

Each of us took our seat and got our papers and dice out, anxious to hear about this year's adventure. When we were all settled in, Jake began.

"The lands of King Equus the Merciful have been under siege by the evil Warlord Seth Falmouth. More dark forces have been gathering for many months to the East. It's rumored that the Warlord himself is on his way to supervise a final push. Falmouth is a very powerful wizard, with few morals and even less scruples. King Equus fears that his kingdom is doomed, unless, unless a decisive victory could be scored against the evil Falmouth. Your task is to find the Warlord and defeat him and his massive Goblin army, sending his forces into disarray...and turning the tide in the war."

Collectively there were nods of approval around the room. Each of us liked where this was going. As 23rd level characters, we each were quite powerful in our own way.

I picked up my orange, 20-sided die.

"Epic roll?" Everyone nodded and got their 20-sided die ready.

At the beginning of each adventure, each of us rolled a 20-sided die, including Jake, to see how well we would do. Jake would be rolling to determine how tough the adventure would be for us. It was all for fun.

We all rolled simultaneously. A roll of 20, the highest one can get, would mean we'd perform at an epic level. A roll of 1, called a "Nat One" for natural one, would mean we'd be pathetic. Somewhere in-between is what was expected, hopefully higher vs. lower.

I rolled a nat one. First time I had ever done that, so I laughed and pointed. There were some groans of disgust, and within seconds it became apparent that everyone had rolled nat ones! The odds were...astronomical! All except Jake. Jake had rolled a 20. This spelled disaster.

"Oh, who fucking cares! This is bullshit, we'll be fine!"

That came from Ash, and as we all looked at her, a huge flash of white filled the room as lighting struck the house, instantly followed by the loudest sound I'd ever heard in my life. We were all blown from our chairs onto the floor, all except Ash, who seemed frozen for a moment in time. She was standing, and all around here were, well, goblins.

Yes, goblins. Short bastards, pointed ears, not much hair, ugly as fuck. Goblins.

They took hold of her and then poof, they were gone!

Chapter Three

Sheila squealed. Guy jumped to his feet, followed quickly by Raina and Jamie. I stayed where I was at for the moment, my eyes on Jake, who was getting to his feet. Wasn't sure how he pulled that one off, but I was pretty sure he was behind what happened, that it was some elaborate magic trick. To his credit, he was acting his part well, checking on the others and looking around, much like the others.

I got to my feet and looked around too, but not for Ash. I was sure she was safe. I was more interested in the lightning effect that Jake produced. I examine the scorch marks on the table, which weren't there before. This was top rate work on his part! I was very impressed. The wood was still warm, which meant that there was a heat effect too. How he managed to produce it, and keep it controlled so that it would hurt anyone, was beyond me. But I was sure that given some time, I'd figure it out.

"Okay everyone, calm down," said Jake, taking control of the situation, "I know we're all scared, but let's try and figure out what just happened."

I wasn't buying into this at all, but it was fun to play along.

"What the fuck were those things with her?" This was Jamie. She had the least experience among us.

"Fuckin' goblins!" said Guy.

"There's no such thing as real goblins." This was Sheila, stating the obvious.

It was interesting looking around at everyone and see their reactions. Their minds were telling them that goblins didn't exist, that people didn't disappear, but their eyes were telling a far different story, creating strife.

Jake had walked over to a window and was looking out, so I walked over to him while the others were talking among themselves.

"You're scaring them quite a bit. Not sure this is a good way to start off the adventure, pal," I whispered so him.

Jake turned to me and started to reply, but he couldn't quite get the words started. But I could see it in his eyes. He didn't orchestrate this. He was scared.

"What the fuck, man?" I asked.

"I don't know, Bruce. No fuggin' clue."

Jamie was walking over with a "what are we gonna' do" look about her. I pulled her close for a reassuring hug, though I was less than assured myself.

"Okay everyone," began Jake, "let's try and figure this out."

"We need to go find Ash," said Sheila, her eyes glistening a bit.

"Exactly!" bellowed Guy, pounding his fist down on a table and splintering it completely.

We all just looked.

"Sorry," said Guy, "I didn't think I hit it that hard."

I saw Raina wincing as if in some discomfort. I asked her what was wrong.

"When the lightning struck I guess I was too close to it." She turned a bit and we all could see that part of her shirt had been burned away, and there were burn marks on her torso.

There were a few collective gasps. I walked over to her.

"Can you cure me, cleric?" she asked with a wince and a smile.

I smiled back and knelt near her, looking more closely at her burns and lightly touching the wounded area.

"Sure, Raina, I'll just cast 'Cure Moderate Wounds' and that will--" I stopped speaking as a feeling almost like a light electric current left my hand. As I stared, Raina's wounds lightened, right before my eyes, and then disappeared, leaving her skin unblemished.

I jumped back.

"What the fuck did you just do to me?" asked Raina, looking back and forth between me and her healed body, then touching herself with her hands to confirm the healing.

Jake and the others moved closer to her, though Jamie moved more toward me.

"He healed her," said Jake, examining Raina himself.

"He can't cast spells for real," said Guy, looking at Jake as if he'd lost his mind.

"Really, Guy? Then you explain what just happened," said Jake, standing up.

Everyone was silent for a short while.

Jamie broke the silence.

"Mage hand. Retrieve my dice."

Almost instantly, a ghostly hand appeared, floating close to her. Then it moved over to the main table and picked up her dice bag, and then brought it to her. She took the bag.

"End Mage hand." It disappeared.


Chapter Four

"Five quatloos on the humans," said Provider One.

"Ten quatloos on the goblins," said Provider Two.

"Provider One, will you cover Provider Two's bet?" said a third voice.

A few seconds went by.

"Yes" was the reply.

All three disembodied brains silently glowed in their glass-enclosed chamber located deep below the mansion. All three silently monitoring the events taking place above.


Chapter Five

We were back to sitting around the table, trying to wrap our heads around what had just happened, what was now happening.

It was obvious to all of us that something incredible had happened. We could now use magic. It made no sense at all, but then, neither did Ash's disappearance nor did goblins.

To further confound us, we started noticing items of interest in the dimly lit room. Guy found a huge greatsword in one corner. Sheila found a longsword and a shield. Jamie noticed an orb sitting on a bookshelf. Ryan was toying with some daggers and shurikens she had found mounted on a wall. I found a long staff with a cross embedded into it.

We also made one other interesting discovery. Jake had absolutely no powers at all. No magic that we could discover, and magic couldn't be used on him, as he purposely cut himself and tried to have me heal him, to no avail.

Still, we took him as our leader in this, so direction would come from him.

"I think we need to split up to try and cover more ground. This is a big place. We'll use the Sending Stones to stay in touch with each other. Guy, you and Raina take the 2nd story. Sheila and I will cover the first floor. Bruce, you and Jamie...I'm giving you the basement. Be careful, I haven't been down there myself. If anyone runs into trouble, call for help immediately."

"Don't you think we should split up by our specialties? Put a striker with a spellcaster and--" started Guy.

"Do you want to be split up from Raina?" Jake shot back.

Guy looked at Raina.

"No."

"Okay then, I realize that our groups aren't optimal, but it's what we have to work with. Let's get moving. Gather up your stuff."

I took my staff and moved towards Jake, motioning him away from Sheila.

"Hey, if you run into any trouble, anything that looks odd, let me know and I'll be there in a flash, I know you don't have anything to--"

"I'll be fine, man," said Jake in a low voice, "but thanks."

I was worried that with him having no magical abilities, the sword he was wielding was not going to help much. And while Sheila was fine in our combat situations, I wondered how she would hold up in what could be real combat.

"Bruce...if this goes bad..."

I knew what Jake was getting at.

"Don't worry. You're covered." We fist bumped. It was more than macho. I was telling him that if something happened to him, Jamie and I would take care of Sheila. He was also on notice of the reverse, if something happened to me.

The depth of all our friendships was about to be tested.


Chapter Six

We had dropped off Guy and Raina on the 2nd floor. The plan was for them to sweep the bedrooms and other areas there, and then move down. They were the strongest fighters, and in melee combat, had very impressive talents. Next was Jake and Sheila. I hoped that they weren't the first to find any trouble.

Jamie and I were left alone in the elevator as we continued down to the basement.

"Ready, babe?" I asked.

Jamie leaned in and kissed me hard on the lips.

"Now I am," she said, holding her orb in her left hand, her wand in her right.

The doors opened and while I wasn't sure exactly what Jamie was expecting, I knew that what I saw was nothing like what I thought I'd see.

It was not a basement in any sense of the word. It was...magical. It was more of a forest setting than a room. There were vines and trees and bushes. It was dimly lit. It seemed like there were some walls too, of sorts, more likely old, wooden structures that had seen far, far better days.

Speaking into the stone in my right hand, I spoke to the others and told them what we had found.

We moved forward, not waiting for reinforcements. It was the first of many mistakes that were made that afternoon.

There was obviously some type of magical alarm built into the ground because as soon as we left the confines of the elevator, arrows came whizzing toward us.

We both hit the ground quickly.

"We're under attack," I spoke into the stone, then left it on the ground as I rolled toward Jamie, casting 'Divine Armor', which put protective shielding around us and bought us some time. I looked at Jamie and expected to see her frightened. She wasn't. She was pissed. And she was holding up her orb.

"Acid Wave" she screamed, and sent a wave of acid in the direction where the arrows originated from.

It was overkill. The goblins (I assume they were goblins since nothing identifiable remained of them when we moved forward to investigate) were disintegrated.

"What if Ash was with them?"

Jamie's face fell. Tears starting welling up in her eyes.

"I-- I didn't--" she started speaking.

"We don't know. I doubt Ash was right there. We just have to be careful, babe, ok?"

She nodded, but I could still see that she was shaken a bit.

We got up and started to move cautiously further into the basement, or forest, or whatever it was. We passed by where Jamie had unleashed her spell, and there was no sign of Ash, which was a good thing. A distance back we heard some noise and stealthily approached.

It was a goblin, seriously wounded from the acid attack. I looked at him and met his eyes.

"She is ours." He grunted at me.

I looked at Jamie with surprise written all across my face.

"You understood that?" she queried.

"Yes." I understood Goblin. It was one of the languages I had chosen a long time ago. I never thought I would actually hear it spoken.

I looked back at the Goblin.

"I can make the pain go away." I moved my hand to his body and he grabbed it, and moved it quickly to his head, pressing my fingers against it. His grip was strong enough to keep it there.

Then I saw a vision. It was of Ash, dressed in a long, white dress, laying prone on some sort of sofa. She was unconscious. There was a solitary Goblin sitting upon her, and a black horse was watching the Goblin, partially shrouded by some drapery.

The goblin let go of my hand, made a sound that was a cross between a laugh and a gurgle, and then died.


Chapter Seven

The lights starting glowing brighter.

"Ten quatloos that the human named Jake does not survive." This time it was Provider Three.

"Ten quatloos that the human named Ash does not survive," said Provider Two.

A few seconds passed...but an eternity for them.

"Bets accepted," said Provider One.


Chapter Eight

"Where are you?" came the frantic call from Jake via the Sending Stone.

"We're okay. We're about 100 feet ahead of the elevator. Be careful. Ran into goblins."

In a few moments we heard a bird call that could only have been Raina. No one else would have gotten that close so quietly.

Jamie and I stood up and a couple of seconds later Raina revealed herself, just ten feet away. The bird call had come from a totally different location. She smiled, the whistled for the others, who moved up quickly.

Jamie and Raina and Sheila hugged while Guy, Jake and I huddled up.

"We saw what happened," said Jake, the understatement indicating he understood the overuse of force.

"More important. I saw Ash. In a vision. The dead goblin wanted me to see her. She seemed unharmed for the moment, though unconscious. She's in some kind of room. I don't think it is down here, though."

We talked for a couple of more minutes, and then Raina dove for cover and yelled for the rest of us to do the same.

Just a brief second later dozens of arrows whizzed by us, crashing into nearby trees followed by spears, and then some lightning bolts. Guy had one graze the side of his body and howled. It appeared to do little damage, but, the effect it had on him was pronounced. He got...bigger. His muscles rippled. It reminded me a bit of the Incredible Hulk's transformation, but nothing nearly that comical or severe. Guy just looked much more...dangerous. And then it became obvious.

As a barbarian, he had "rage" powers, and when he raged, various things would happen to his character. Obviously, he was raging. This whole transformation from a role-playing game to real-life, or unreal-life, was bizarre.

Jake took charge.

"Raina, you and Guy, flank from the left. Sheila and I will come in from the right. Jamie...Frostburn. Bruce...Purifying Fire. You first, then Jamie."

Raina and Guy were already gone, and Jake and Sheila quickly followed, albeit in a different direction, going for the classic pincher movement.

I looked over at Jamie. "You ready?" She nodded.

I cast the 15th level spell. I set the target area to be where I thought the enemy was located. Purifying Fire would engulf the enemy with divine fire. It would do no damage to our party members, but would offer some healing if they needed it.

As the fire burned, I nodded to Jamie, who raised her orb slightly and the 13th level spell, Frostburn. A flaming ball of ice hurled forth, causing damage to anything near it. I hoped our party members stayed far enough away to avoid the carnage.

Then off in the distance I heard Guy's roar and knew that he had engaged the enemy. There was a clattering of what sounded like swords slashing against each other, and then against flesh as screams called out into the semi-darkness.

Jamie cast Greater Invisibility, first on me, and then on herself, and we literally became invisible, and would stay that way for a while, or until we attacked. We moved forward quickly to assist our friends.

Guy was a killing machine. He reminded me of a slow blender run amok, spinning and slashing and shredding anything within reach. Raina was moving very quickly, darting in and stabbing with her dagger, then scampering back into the woods for cover, only to come back seconds later from a different angle. If anything pursued her, a shuriken would fly from her other hand, embedding itself in the pursuant's body, and dropping it. Jake and Sheila were fighting goblins off to the right and holding their own. There were plenty of dead creatures laying around from our ranged attack of a few seconds ago.

What worried me was the large, rather, very large figure standing in the center of the melee. It looked quite a bit larger than a troll, though not quite as large as some giants. It would take a lot to bring it down.

"I'm going to hit it with Astral Blades of Death," I said quietly to Jamie. "Why don't you try Disintegrate?" She nodded affirmative.

As we cast our spells, and became visible, the focus of attention of the huge creature went from everything around it to Jamie and I.

The green ray from level 19 Disintegrate struck the creature in the chest and it howled in anger and pain. This was followed by the sudden appearance of unforgiving blades of silvery light appearing around the creature, hacking away at it and causing large amounts of damage. Level 23 spells were awesome in their power.

The creature retaliated by swinging an enormous club, tree-sized, and crashing it down in front of us, the earth shaking effect knocking us into the air and onto our asses.

I was dazed by that tremendous blast. Then I saw that Jamie had taken more damage and was clutching her left arm protectively. She was bleeding in several locations too and was moaning. I looked up and saw that the creature was picking up a large rock and looking directly at her.

"Hold tight, babe, you'll be fine." Jamie saw that I was preparing another spell, and then it struck her what I was going to do.

"No, wait, I can help you--"

I cast Clarion Call of the Astral Sea, which instantly whisked her out of here and hopefully to a special fortress on the Astral Sea. I only hoped that all of the magic presented to us now was safe, because if this worked, she would return shortly fully healed.

The boulder came crashing through where Jamie lay just a second ago, a roar from the creature telling me it was pissed that it had missed.

I turned my full attention to the battle as my own rage surfaced.

"Fire Storm!" and with that, a roiling cloud of fire surged across the battlefield, scorching only enemy combatants. The remaining goblins were cooked, all dead in that one instant. The huge creature, which I identified as some obscure young giant, had taken more damage and was visibly suffering. Guy charged it and slashed at the back of its nearest leg with his +4 Lifedrinker Sword, cutting tendons and dropping the beast to its knee. Raina and Sheila jumped into the fray, slashing and stabbing at it too.

Then Jamie reappeared, standing next to me, looking completely refreshed, and, well, angry.

"You," she said, speaking to me, "I'll deal with you later." Then she turned her complete focus on the creature that caused her pain.

"Thunderclap," said Jamie, and a peal of thunder sounded, followed by a sonic wave hitting the giant square in the head.

It fell prone.

Guy leaped up onto it and with one mighty stab, sent his weapon deep inside the beast, piercing its heart and killing it.

As the rest of us gathered closer and took up defensive stances to be sure that no other attacks would surprise us, it was Jake who noticed a box near the center of the action. He opened it and found a skeleton key inside.

"Great," said Guy, "what the hell does that open?"

Jake seemed to study it for a moment, then spoke.

"Come with me. I understand now. It makes sense." With that, he began moving quickly back toward the elevator.

Raina dashed forward, ahead of him, using her rogue abilities to scout for trouble. Guy was next, then Jake, followed by Jamie and I, with Sheila protecting the rear. It was our standard forward movement formation, with the addition of Jake, who normally wasn't in our adventures, but was guiding them.

We got to the elevator and then followed Jake inside, closing the door quickly. Jake looked on one side, and then the other, and found a small panel underneath the set of buttons. Pushing the panel aside, he exposed an opening, one that a skeleton key would fit.

He inserted the key and turned it, and the blank button below "B", which was for Basement, came to life and glowed, and "B2" appeared.

He pressed it and the elevator began to move lower.


Chapter Nine

"Cloak of Peace." The spell vastly increased protection against attacks so long as the person I cast it upon did not attack. I quickly cast it on everyone. It would offer us some protection until we figured out our next move. Next I applied a healing spell that brought us all back to full strength.

The elevator stopped and the doors opened. It appeared we were now back inside the mansion, albeit at a level that none of us had seen before. It was dark, and dusty, the floors were wooden, and there was a great sense of foreboding

We cautiously exited the elevator and then moved into the hallway. There appeared to be rooms up ahead, so we slowly proceeded forward.

We hit pay dirt on the second room. There was a door, but before we had a chance to open it, I noticed a window-like viewport into the room. I carefully put my eye to it and looked. I almost wish that I hadn't.

Ash was in the room, and she was being sexually assaulted by a number of goblins. She was on her hands and knees, and from a quick count, it appeared that there were six of them on her. One was in front of her, sliding his gnarly, dark green-skinned cock into her mouth, with both of his hands on her ears. Another was on her back and had wrapped her hair around his cock and was jerking off into it. From the looks of her hair, it looked like this had been done several times before. Two others were partially under her, each sucking on a nipple while her hands were stroking their cocks. Another was fully under her, thrusting up into her pussy. And finally there was one standing up behind her, taking her anally.

I backed away from the opening and looked at the others.

"We need to get inside, right now."

Raina went to the door and, after looking over the mechanism, pulled out her lock pick kit. She tried several times, but could not unlock the door.

"She's being raped by goblins?!" said Sheila, looking through the opening, her voice going higher towards the end of her sentence.

Guy's rage came to him quickly and he kicked the door. It gave, but didn't quite open. He bellowed and then back up ten feet, then charged the door and hit it with his full strength. The door shattered and he went tumbling into the room.

As we entered the room, Jamie let loose with Chain Lightning, a dreadfully powerful spell where bolts of purple-white lightning sprung forth from her fingertips that leaped from goblin to goblin, killing all of them one after the other.

Unfortunately, as the door splintered open, the one goblin closest must have heard Guy's voice, as it was not surprised. It let go of the human's ears in front of it, withdrew its cock from her gullet, grabbed a short sword, and slit her throat.

It too died shortly thereafter from the wizard's spell.


Chapter Ten

"Provider Two is due ten quatloos," said Provider Three to Provider One.

Seconds passed.

"Wait," said Provider One.


Chapter Eleven

Guy carried Ash's dead body out of the room towards the elevator. Raina and Jamie were trying to console Sheila, who was sobbing. Jake and I were keeping an eye out, not sure if there was more trouble brewing.

As the others loaded into the elevator, Jake paused and pressed a hand against my chest, looking at me.

"Can you do anything?"

"I don't know, Jake," I said right away, knowing what the question would be. "You know I'll try everything."

He nodded and we entered the elevator.

A short while later we were up on the second floor, in Ash's room. Raina and Sheila were stationed right outside the room. Guy had his massive sword with him, and was standing guard inside the room. Jamie didn't have healing capabilities and was sitting quietly in a corner, watching intently. Jake was at the bed with me, doing nothing, but not able to be deterred from being right there.

"Healing spells won't work because you can't restore--" he was saying, but I interrupted his sentence.

"I know, Jake!" Then, a little softer, "I know, pal. Give me a minute."

"What about sending her to the Astral Sea like you did Jamie?"

"She has to be a willing ally, and even though Jamie didn't want to go, the spell had already been conjured before she could fight it. Right now, Ash isn't a willing ally, and I can't sent two people, otherwise I'd do that."

Jake's face sunk. He was giving up hope.

Suddenly, I had the answer, and leaped from the bed.

"What?" asked Jake, hope flooding back into him.

"How much gold do you have?"

"Me? Um, none. Sheila has, oh, I don't know, she spent a bunch on stuff, maybe a few hundred left. Why?"

"Guy?" I spun around and asked our barbarian.

"Zero. Spent it all on the sword."

Shit. I knew Jamie had slightly under 10,000 gold left. I rushed to the door and asked Raina. She had a little over 2,000.

I quickly did the math in my head.

"Yes! Quickly, I need all of your gold piled here," pointing to a corner of the bed as I ran out of the room, with everyone else depositing their gold there.

I returned with my bag and emptied it onto the bed, dwarfing every other pile there.

"Whoa...didn't you spend any?" asked Jake.

"Not in a while...what would I need?"

I began counting and creating piles of five thousand. As I started doing this, Jake caught on.

"Dude...is it on your sheet?" he quizzed.

I just nodded and kept counting.

"If this works, you're my fuckin' hero."

"What's going on?" asked both Sheila and Guy at the same time.

"Ritual. He's going to try and cast Raise Dead. It's a ritual."

"Will it work?" asked Jamie.

"It's not a question of levels, as it's an 8th level ritual, it's a question of cost, and whether or not whatever is controlling the magic in this place is going to play fair. Because all of you are epic tier characters, it costs 50,000 gold to use the ritual, which is why he's counting gold."

"So if there's enough gold, it'll work?" This time it was Raina who was asking.

"Not that easily. The ritual takes 8 hours to cast, and he needs to remain here the entire time, focused. It's going to take a lot out of him. I've never seen it performed before to that extent, of course. Whenever done during a campaign, it's just an imaginary 8 hours. Here he's going to have to pray for 8 solid hours."

The air was heavy with gloom as I calculated the last amount. We had 50,300 gold, just barely enough.

"Okay, I'm going to need everyone to clear the room so I can concentrate."

"Bruce, do you want me to--"

I walked over to Jamie and hugged her and then kissed her.

"No babe. I need to be alone for this. Go try and keep the others calm."

She nodded and left with everyone else, except Jake.

"Hey, I know you'll do your best."

"Thanks." We fist bumped and then he too left, leaving me alone in the room with Ash's corpse.


Chapter Twelve

"Provider Two is due ten quatloos," said Provider Three to Provider One for the second time, unprecedented.

This time a minute passed.

"Wait," said Provider One.


Chapter Thirteen

Eight hours came and went.

Eight and a half hours.

Nine hours.

At nine and one-half hours, Jake risked entering the room.

He found me laying on the bed, unconscious, along side Ash, who was now breathing comfortably, her wounds fully healed.

"What's wrong with Bruce," said Jamie, alarmed.

"I think he's just exhausted," said Jake after checking vitals. "Let's get him to your room."

Much later that evening I awoke and found Jamie sitting up on the bed, cradling my head.

"Hey...how are you feeling?" she asked, concern in her voice.

"I'm...good." I thought for a moment. "Tell mother that--"

"You feel fine," continued Jamie, laughing at our little Star Trek joke.

"Hey, how's Ash doing?"

"She's fine, babe. She's right outside, let me go get her, she wanted to tell you something when you awoke."

I sat up and stretched...and realized that I actually felt pretty good overall, considering.

Ash came into the room, alone, and walked over to the bed.

"I want to thank you. You...you saved my life. Everyone told me what happened, and, well, I don't know how I'm ever going to be able to repay you for what you did."

"You just did. You said thanks. What more can I ask for but that." I smiled.

"I have one favor to ask. I know with all you've done for me that I shouldn't--"

"It's okay, Ash. Go ahead."

"I've been speaking with Jamie quite a bit over the past bunch of hours, and, we've talked about everything. I discovered that she's never been with a woman, and, well, we're both attracted to each other, and I was wondering...could I spend the night with the two of you tonight? If you don't want to I fully understand--"

"Yes. That would be...wonderful."

Her smile lit up the room, and Ash leaned down and hugged me, her breasts pressing up against my chest, giving me a bit of a stir between my legs.


Chapter Fourteen

The lights were flashing brighter and much more frequently.

"The human Ash did not survive," said Provider Two.

"The human Ash is alive," said Provide One.

"The human Ash did not continue to live or exist. Death was present," argued Provider Two.

"The human Ash remains alive and managed to keep going in difficult circumstances," was the counter.

The lights flashed brighter yet, almost a strobe effect.

"Provider One, Provider Two, please calm down, you are expending far too much energy. The human power supply cannot survive much more of this," stated Provider Three, alarmed at the emotions being given off by his two fellow providers.

In the corner of the room, a short man with a furry head and receding hairline, dressed in a pair of candy-striped Dolfin shorts and a Swarovski crystal decorated tank top was flamboyantingwalking on a treadmill, huffing and puffing and repeating "I'm a pony!" as the three providers drew more and more energy.


Chapter Fifteen

Watching Jamie and Ash kissing was incredibly erotic.

I was seated in a plush, overstuffed leather chair near the fire, basking in the glow of its warmth while sipping Peach Schnapps. My attention was zeroed in on the bed, where the two beautiful women were laying next to each other in an embrace.

Jamie was not a shy person by nature, but in this circumstance, her first venture into Sapphic love, she was content to let Ash take the lead. Their tops had been discarded, revealing toned and tanned upper bodies. As they lightly kissed, and smiled and spoke quietly to each other, fingertips would glide down an arm, then cross over and gently, teasingly, pass over a nipple, or the swell of the breast itself.

Ravel's Bolero was playing, and I couldn't help but smile and think that Ravel himself would approve of the scene playing out to his music. As the music progressed and became more pronounced, so did the movements on the bed.

Ash was now french kissing Jamie, having eased her onto her back and now began moving her mouth down Jamie's body, kissing along the way, until her lips found a nipple which was quickly sucked inside. Jamie moaned and arched her back as she felt Ash's teeth settle around the hardened nub, the younger girl's tongue swirling around it and making it wet.

The other nipple was soon given the same treatment, causing a repeat of the sounds and movement from Jamie. Ash didn't stop, and continued downward, her tongue leaving a trail of moisture across Jamie's abdomen, until she found the thong.

As Ash kissed the thong, I felt major stirrings between my legs, though the loose, silk boxers covered my growing erection quite nicely.

With deft fingers, Ash slid the thong down Jamie's legs and removed it, then removed her own thong too, affording me an incredible view of her pussy and ass from behind as she was positioned on her hands and knees. She must have sensed my eyes on her, as she turned her head slowly around and looked at me, then licked her lips slowly, very slowly and smiled before turning back to Jamie.

There was nothing growing about my erection now. It was at full mast.

Ash took Jamie's ankles and pushed them gently towards her butt, then released them and put her hands on Jamie's knees, looking intently in my lover's eyes. She then slowly spread Jamie's knees, alternating between looking at her eyes and between her legs. Ash then licked her lips, slowly, silently telling Jamie that she was anticipating this feast. Jamie moaned.

And she continued to moan, as Ash kissed down one inner thigh, and then back up the other, then back down the thigh, and back up the other, teasing Jamie. She continued, and I saw Jamie's breathing get deeper, her nipple-hardened chest rising and falling.

Then Ash stopped with her face between Jamie's legs, poised right above her pussy. While I couldn't hear it as the music had started rising in volume, I surmised that Ash was breathing in Jamie's scent, and was exhaling onto her exposed lips. Jamie's hands reached for Ash's head, but Ash was took quick and she pulled back a bit, just out of reach.

A groan from Jamie.

Ash moved her head once again between Jamie's legs and began to lightly lick, just to the sides of Jamie's lips, close enough to taunt, not close enough to provide relief.

Another groan from Jamie.

Then, an "Oh God..." and I knew that Ash had hit pay dirt and brushed across Jamie's clit.

Some movement caught my eye, and I saw that Ash had spread her legs slightly further apart, and a hand was now back there, fingers gently rubbing her pussy while she continued her oral assault on Jamie.

Jamie's eyes were now closed, and her hands were clutching the sheets as Ash began licking her pussy with determined swipes. She was alternating between licks up and down her lips and moving her tongue against Jamie's clit. I saw that she had an hand between her legs and had insert a finger into Jamie.

Ash then slowly began moving on the bed, shifting her body around towards Jamie. I realized that she was moving herself into a 69 position with my girlfriend!

As she lifted one leg and moved it over Jamie's head, Jamie's hands went up and grabbed Ash's ass. Then Jamie lifted her head up and plastered it right against Ash's wet pussy, and then rolled.

The two women shifted, and now Jamie was on top. She partially sat up, settling her pussy down on Ash's face, and looked over her shoulder at me. I could see the wetness from Ash's pussy on Jamie's lips and chin, and she flashed me that million dollar smile that I'd become so used to over the years, her eyes lustily clouded over with desire, and then sunk her face back down between Ash's legs.

That was just too much for me to remain idle. I stood up and dropped the boxers, then moved over to the bed. I could now more clearly hear licking and slurping sounds, though Ravel's signature piece was slowly rising to a crescendo.

Ash saw me approach the bed and when I got close enough, she reached out with a hand to grasp my cock, her fingers wrapping around the shaft and stroking. She felt for the head of it and, finding plenty of fluid there, gathered it with two fingers. Then she moved her hand to Jamie's ass, and rubbed the pre-cum on her asshole. She rubbed it around and around, and then pushed a single finger inside, all the while continuing to eat her out.

I moved up onto the bed behind Jamie. Ash was fingering Jamie's ass, and then withdrew her finger. With her other hand, she took hold of my cock and moved it to Jamie's pussy, first aiming it downward a bit so she could lick some of the precum off of it, and then pulling it and me up to her opening and helping me thrust inside. Then Ash started rubbing Jamie's clit with her fingers while extending her tongue out to brush against my ball sack as I thrust in and out of Jamie.

I will admit that having a threesome with Jamie was on my sexual bucket list, and that sawing in and out of her pussy while seeing her head buried between Ash's legs was really fucking hot. I could also tell that given my "exercise" earlier today, I wasn't gonna' last long, strength-wise, in this position, so I pulled out of Jamie and moved over and layeddown on the large bed.

The two women continued on, reaching orgasms just minutes later. It was amazing watching them, being that close, hearing them, and smelling their scents.

As they broke apart, I could see that neither of them was out of it. In fact, it seemed like mutual oral was just an appetizer, as they both crawled over to me with wet, drippy smiles. Nothing like getting kissed by two women who just went down on each other. I doubt my cock had been that hard in years.

And it was my cock, it seemed, that was going to get their mutual attention. Both of them kissed their way down my body and ended up taking a side, Jamie on the left, and Ash on the right. Although not a word was spoken, it seemed like there was a competition to see who could lick and suck the best. It's difficult to describe the physical and mental sensations of both seeing and feeling two incredibly hot women giving you a blowjob at the same time.

After several minutes of four hands and two mouths and tongues, Jamie climbed up on top of my face in reverse position, so that she was facing Ash, who herself had moved to impale herself on my very wet, hard cock. As she sunk down, Jamie leaned forward and began licking and biting at her nipples, with Ash proving verbal encouragement.

I myself was confined to licking Jamie's sweet pussy and thrusting up into Ash's tight nook. We were a well-lubricated machine, and after just a couple of minutes, I felt Jamie start to come on my face, followed just a minute later with Ash gushing all over my cock. That was enough for me to shoot multiple blasts of hot cum deep inside her still spasming pussy.

As the two women disengaged from my body, I could see Jamie moving once again between Ash's legs, looking to taste her and my hot cum together. I smiled and then drifted off to sleep, exhausted and sated, and wondered what adventure The Gathering of 2013 would bring us.


Epilogue

"This is not exciting any longer. We need to find something better," said Provider One.

"Perhaps we should move to a different venue?" suggested Provider Two.

"Yes, one where we can find more diverse combatants," continued Provider Three.

"How about Triskelion? In the Gamma II quadrant," said Provider Two.

"Agreed," said Provider Three.

"Agreed," said Provider One.

"And what of this thing?" said Provider Two, referring to the human.

"Ask it what it wants," said Provider One.

"Yes, it has performed well. We should give it anything it wants," said Provider Three.

"Human, what do you want? Riches? Fun?" asked Provider Two.

It took the human several seconds to mumble an answer.

"Want...some...fun."

 

White Christmas

CAW 14's theme was about holidays, another gender switch (I had to write from a woman's perspective), and a touch of magic.

For this I wrote one of my more heart-wrenching stories. I won't give away too much other than to say that this is not a White Christmas story that would come from the lips of Bing Crosby. It received good reviews, but maybe one vote. Shit happens. I didn't expect many votes for this story, not during the holidays. But sometimes you just have to write what comes into your head, happy or not.

As with many of my stories, this one was set back in history, in the early 60's.

-------------------------

White Christmas

As she tore off the next to the last sheet of the calendar, Grace felt that familiar pit in her stomach, the one that had formed this time of year, every year, for many of them.

At 34, she had what appeared to most to be a happy life; a loving, hard-working and handsome husband, two pleasant children, and a nice house in the suburbs. She attended church each week with her family, was active in the local PTA, and when a non-profit needed some help with baking goodies, Grace could always be counted upon. She was the glue that kept her family bound together.

Deep within her, however, was a black pit of Tartarus, one that she kept well-contained during most of the year, but not during the December holidays.

"Honey, have you seen my blue tie with the silver diamond on it? I need it for a meeting this afternoon," asked her husband George, coming into the kitchen and startling Grace, causing her to jump slightly. "Are you okay?" he continued, noticing her jump.

"Yes," said Grace, recovering quickly, "of course, you just surprised me, dear. You got a spot on that tie so I dropped it off at the dry cleaners. I'll pick it up this morning and bring it by the office."

George looked over at his wife and smiled. She was most everything he could want in a wife. Gorgeous and with a great figure even after having their two children, she was a lady in the street, and a saint in church.

"You're too good for me, darling," he said, leaning in and kissing her quickly on the lips. "Oh, and don't forget we have the cocktail party this evening at Wilshire's. Wear that green dress, you know which one I mean," continued George, even as he was exiting the room in search of a new, temporary tie.

Yes, I know which one, she thought, the one where you get to show off my breasts to your buddies.

"Bye Mom," said Barbara, bounding through the kitchen with the clunky gait that only a 14-year-old can manage.

"Hold it right there," said Grace, as she watched her daughter make for the back door.

"Mom, I'm gonna' be late for school," the young girl whined, edging still toward the door, not making eye contact.

"Make-up?"

The single word froze the teenager in her tracks. Busted, she thought.

"Mom, all the girls in my class are wearing make-up and I only used a little bit and some of the girls use lots of it but I just put on a little bit and I don't want to me made fun of--" Barbara's torrent of words were interrupted by her Mom, hand raised in the universal sign of requesting silence.

Seconds passed.

"Ok. But we will--" Grace saw her daughter's eyes light up with glee, "we WILL talk about this tonight, young lady!"

"Okay Mom. Love you!" and with that, the gangly youth was just about out the door.

"Barbara...WAIT!" her Mom called out to her, picking up a slip of paper and walking it over to her impatiently waiting daughter.

"Oh! My permission slip to go to the White House!" said the young girl, rapidly opening her bookbag and letting her Mom slip the sheet inside. "I hope we get to meet President Kennedy!" Then she bounded out the door.

A few seconds later she heard the clump-clump, clump-clump of her other progeny tromping down the stairs.

George, Jr. was a spitting image of his father, tall and handsome, and at 16, had already made his mark on the high school football team.

"Hi Mom," said George, "Tina's in the driveway so I gotta' go. I'm working after school today, so I won't be home until 5:30. Bye!"

As she watched her son exit, she wistfully remembered just a few years ago when he would hug and kiss her goodbye before leaving for school. He's probably saving all that for his rich little cheerleader girlfriend. Then she frowned a bit, thinking that she was just being a bit too cranky this morning.

George, Sr. was back again, putting down his black leather briefcase to put on his suit jacket, then picking up the briefcase once more while taking hold of his mug of coffee started earlier in the morning. Tepid at best, he made a slight face and then saw his wife standing with the coffe pot in hand, smiling, ready to freshen it up for him.

After getting his refill, he patted her ass and kissed her cheek.

"Thanks honey, I have to run. See you later with the tie?" as he made for the side door leading out to the garage.

"Yes, dear," smiled Grace, prepping for another exciting day of running errands and baking cookies. Another exciting day.

She shivered at the thought of the nightmares that had returned once again this time of year. Of when she was just a girl. Of her father. Of why she did each year what she did. Of...time for a drink, she thought.


Three Weeks Later...


More snow was falling, and with the temperatures hovering just below freezing, the weathermen were predicting another two to three inches to add to the foot that was already on the ground. Christmas was only two days away, and there was a bustle of activity all around, from carolers in the suburbs to the clangity-clang of Salvation Army helper's bells outside the Sears and Roebuck store. Boy scouts were busily helping clear older couple's driveways of snow, and courteous men were helping ladies carry their groceries out of the market to their cars.

Grace had finished her second glass of scotch though the morning was not quite half over. Her son was out early, knocking on doors in the neighborhood to find work clearing driveways, and her daughter slept overnight at her best friend's house. Her husband, of course, had left for work that morning, all chipper and gay, partly due to their talk over morning coffee.

"You know," he began, moving from the news section of the daily paper to the sports pages, "today is the 23rd." He was trying to be nonchalant about it, but to Grace, he was more obvious than the Kennedys were rich.

"Yes," said Grace, "it is."

Her husband raised his eyes just slightly to peer over the paper, not wanting to appear too anxious she thought, but wondering if she understood his reference.

She opted not to play this out, and simply ran her tongue over her lips, saw his raised-eyebrow reaction, and then continued cleaning the counter of some imaginary dirt. She wanted to think of him as a pig, wanted to hate him for what he made her do, but somewhere, she still thought of him as her husband, the provider. Still...

It was later that evening, on the pretense of going to help feed some homeless people, that Grace began her yearly descent into Hell.

The drive into the city wasn't long, and getting into "that" part of town by now was easy for her, an annual trek. She drove slowly and then parked the big Buick carefully, not wanting to do anything to attract attention. She wore her dark coat and a large hat to obscure her face and features as she walked along the dirty sidewalk, the soot from the nearby industrial complex making living conditions in this side of town less than desirable.

Looking around surreptitiously, Grace paused before a particularly dingy, dark-grey building, then upon seeing no one of consequence paying attention to her, she moved quickly inside and trudged up the steps to the fourth floor, dread filling her like a sewer drain.

She found 404 at the end of the narrow hallway. Taking a breath, she wrinkled her nose at the acrid stench of urine and sweat. She detested this place, and detested herself even more for being here. But she had no choice. No choice at all.

Two knocks, followed by a single knock. She remembered it well. The only way to get an answer.

A scraping sound inside, two deadbolts being slid open, and then the door opened slightly. She could see an eye, a single eye. His eye. He looked at her face first, then, down her body, then back to her face. A slight nod. He was expecting her. The door closed, then the sound of the chain being undone. Finally, the door opened enough for her to step inside, which she did.

"I have money," she said quickly, her nervousness apparent. "I brought the $50," she continued, reaching into her purse and pulling out a white envelope which she started to hand to him. He was an unsightly man, several years older than her but looking far older than that with his disheveled appearance and unkempt hair. She could hear I Love Lucy in the background.

"The price is $60."

She was floored. It hadn't occurred to her that the price might have gone up.

"I...I..only have $50. Wait, let me look," and she frantically looked in her purse, coming up with a dollar and thirty-seven cents extra. Her mind was racing, wondering if there was any money in the car, but, she knew that there wasn't.

"Please," she implored, "please...this is all that I have."

"The price is $60. Blame Kennedy."

Grace thought of where she might get the other $10. She couldn't ask George. He'd tell her to just put the charge on the Sears card. And to drive back home and then back here, there wasn't time. No banks were open.

"Please..." she was desperate. She had no other money.

"You know what you need to do," was the reply. He knew she didn't have enough money, but she had...currency.

Tears formed in her eyes. And the pit grew. And she knew that this would make what was coming with George...better, that without it, she'd be far, far worse off.

Shoulders slumped, she took off her coat and lay it across the back of the metal kitchen chair. The jumper she was wearing came next, leaving her in just bra and panties. She saw that he had dropped his trousers and boxers and was stroking himself. He was already growing erect.

She had not come prepared like she had in previous years. She expected to pay him and not have to do this again.

"Do you...have...?" she left the question unfinished, as she saw him nod in the direction of the bathroom. He was prepared.

It was small, dingy, like the rest of the place, but there was a small medicine cabinet, and she thankfully found what she was looking for on the second shelf. Without it there would be real trouble.

She did not kneel as that would remind her too much of the nightmare, but instead used her hand to apply liberal amounts of the Vaseline to his cock. She knew that she had to do it, that he wouldn't put it on himself. It was the one kindness he showed her, allowing her to grease him up, though she did wonder if it was for his benefit too, so that his skin wouldn't hurt from the friction.

She took her place near the edge of his old stuffed sofa, the same quilt covering it that had been doing so for over a decade that she had been coming here once a year.

Feeling him behind her, she leaned forward. She knew that she was giving him a lewd view, that her red-hair-fringed vagina could now be seen, as well as her nether opening, the one that he was very intent on penetrating.

As she felt him move up against her, she knew that he would only do it this way because of the time he spent in prison. He told her, in a guttural way, that anal sex was the only way that he could get pleasure from a woman. She never let her husband take her this way; he would never dream of asking her. No...he took her another way, one far, far worse than this.

Grace felt the glistening tip of his cock's helmet press against her back opening, and then his hands pulled open her cheeks, allowing him to see better, and making her blush with embarrassment.

Then he pushed forward and the struggle was afoot. Grace's sphincter muscle tightened in its effort to resist the combative intruder. It was a valiant effort, as always, but then Grace felt him lean forward, putting some weight behind the push. That ended the siege as he broke through her body's resistance and the thick, crowbar-hard shaft entered her rectum, sliding ever forward as she cried out with the initial pain of his greasy, debauched entry.

"Ohgawwwwwddddddddddd," she blasphemed, not caring at the moment about anything but trying to relax and endure the painful assault. She hoped that it would be over quickly, that her tightness would cause him to finish sooner versus later.

But that was not meant to be. He bottomed out inside of her creamy white ass, hearing her groaning in pain, her hands grasping the quilt wildly. She felt him withdraw, and then plunge back inside, all the way, as deep as he could go, her eyes squinting shut. His hand pushed down on her upper back, pressing her face into the quilt. As she breathed in she could smell him, for the comforter hadn't been washed in ages. She could smell all of him, his cigars, his sweat, his ass...it just added to the horrible feeling of being taken anally by this man.

"Talk," he said.

She dreaded this part. She hated him for making her do it. She hesitated.

"Talk, or I'll drag this out for an hour," he threatened.

She knew his threat to be real. One year she remembered that he had pleasured himself before she showed up, and it hadn taken forever for him to reach his climax. She was hardly able to sit and drive home that night.

"Do it, do it to me," she started out, weakly.

She felt the sting that accompanied the smack of his hand on her ass cheek and cried out.

"Talk right. Last warning," he said and continued to pump her.

Gracie gathered what little bit of temporary sanity remained within her.

"Fuck me, George. Fuck my ass hard! You like pounding my tight ass, don't you?"

She could feel him speed up the pace as her words rang out in the cold apartment air.

"That's it, George. Fuck your good little wife in her ass. Make her pay for all the bad things she does," she continued, feeling sick as she knew what was coming next. It was bad enough having to pretend that this was her husband defiling her. He made her call him George because he knew it bothered her, or so she thought. But she knew it was gonna' get worse.

When he took hold of her hips and lifted her body up a bit off the arm of the sofa, she cringed. She hoped he would forget, or, would get too excited to care. But no.

"Do it. Now."

She didn't bother to fight him. She just sunk lower, and yet lower into her depravity, reaching between her legs with her hand until it made contact with her dripping wet pussy. She knew exactly what he wanted. She went her fingers with her own secretions and then reached yet further back, wetting his balls as they moved forward and back with his thrusting. Then she reached back between her own legs and rubbed her clit. She knew it wouldn't be long for her to reach her climax. And that's what he wanted. He wanted her to orgasm while he pumped her ass.

The thrusting now was frenzied, almost angry as he grunted each time, withdrawing until just his mushroom-capped head was just inside and then thrusting balls deep, again and again.

Oh god, she thought, I'm such a sick person, and she climaxed, her ass muscles rhythmically squeezing and releasing around his deeply penetrating penis.

She heard him first, a brief outburst of sound and then felt him next, the warm liquid of his spend filling her backside as she continued to hump her hand, climaxing and crying at the same time. She could hear Ricky Ricardo talking on the television, "Lucy, you have some 'splainin' to do."

Ten minutes later, after she had used the bathroom to clean up and dress, she emerged, shaken and embarrassed, once again feeling used and dirty. She still had to face him, though, to get her coke.

"So you are still doing it." It wasn't a question, really, more of a statement.

"May I have my package?" Her eyes were averted, her hands clutching her purse nervously.

"Why don't you just tell him?" He was persistent.

He seemed almost to care, which was so odd to her, this, this monstrosity of a man who would take her so barbarically, then act liked he cared. Who the hell was he to preach to her!

"What do you care? You got what you wanted from me!" she exploded.

"Whoa. Temper, temper. You need to be a little nicer to me." There was a touch of malice in his voice now.

Grace backed down. She didn't want, couldn't have, anything disrupt this transaction. Not at all. She needed what he had.

"I...I could never tell him. He wouldn't understand. He...he'd think I was a freak. I just--" she tried to explain.

"Your dad molests you, makes you suck his c--" he said, voice still a bit agitated.

"STOP!! Please stop!" she interrupted, crying now.

She saw him looking at her with great pity, and that made it worse. This...this terrible man who lived in a one-bedroom drab apartment in a seedy section of the city was looking down upon her. God, she thought, I'm just a depraved whore.

As she wiped her face with her sleeve and tried to pull herself together, she saw him go into his bedroom and then return a minute later. In his hand was a small package covered with holiday wrapping paper. He handed it to her.

Without a word, she turned and left, vowing never to return again to this God-forsaken place.

As he watched her leave, he shook his head sadly. He tried to break her of the habit each year by forcing her deeper into depravity, forcing her to confront her demons, but nothing seemed to work. Until he came up with a solution, one that wouldn't require him to move.

As he picked up the phone to call his mother, he knew that he would not see Gracie again.


Christmas Day

"Hey Mom, doesn't today start the 12 Days of Christmas?" asked George, Jr.

The sound of glass shattering as the half-full bottle of milk exploded onto the floor of the kitchen startled everyone in the household.

"Mom!" said Barbara, looking at her mother with wide eyes.

"Sorry everyone, it slipped," said Grace, her mind surging with emotion at the casual mention of that phrase by her son. She carefully moved around the broken shards of glass to the closet for her mop and bucket.

"Do you need help, Mom?" asked George, Jr., walking toward the kitchen.

"No, stop, don't come closer, George," she said, already in clean-up mode, "I'll take care of it. You go play."

"Okay, Mom," said the lad, and he scooped up his brand new basketball and winter coat and headed outside to shoot some hoops.

Barbara went back to typing on her new Smith Corona typewriter.

God, thought Grace to herself, I need to get a grip on things. For tonight. For...George.


Christmas Night

It was just past eleven. The children, their bedtimes extended thirty minutes on a non-school night, were now in their rooms. George, Sr. was sitting in the living room, reading the new bestseller, To Kill a Mockingbird. Grace had just settled her two children, and walked downstairs.

"Well," said George upon seeing her, closing his book and removing the Meerschaum pipe from his mouth, "I think I will head upstairs and take a shower." He paused for a moment. "Are you coming?" he continued, silently enjoying the double meaning of his words, words that he had thought about earlier in the day and waited patiently to use.

"Not yet, dear," said Grace, giving George his secret thrill, "but soon." She smiled, and watched as he rose and climbed the stairs, hearing him whistle as he loosened the holiday tie from around his neck.

Wish he would choke himself, thought Gracie to herself, moving into the downstairs bathroom. She closed and locked the door, leaning up against it, her eyes shut tightly, silently counting to ten. When she heard the water from the shower above, she moved to the vanity and knelt down. Inside, in the far corner, was a box of sanitary napkins. She pulled the box out, and dug deep down inside, knowing it was the one safe place in the house where no one, no one, would violate the sanctity of her hiding space.

Unraveling the aluminum foil, she saw the white powder come into view, the single razor blade, small piece of glass, and part of a straw. She set it down onto the counter, her heart beating faster than normal. She looked at it. More than enough for twelve uses. She felt her anus clench at the thought of what it took to get the stash, and then quickly cleared that thought out of her mind.

The demons had been visiting her more frequently of late, causing her to wake in the middle of the night. It was always the same, terrible images. Images of her father, drunk, stumbling into her room, always with a gift, always telling her that it was...candy...always making her...lick it...always...after Christmas...

She pushed the demons back, and set to work, knowing she had but a few minutes. Carefully she cut the white powder into a line, then opted for a second line, the wait of over 11 months too much to restrain. She quickly snorted both lines, folded up everything and put it away, then went into the kitchen to get one glass of white wine for George. She then went upstairs to the bedroom.

As Grace entered the room and began removing her clothes as per the ritual, she heard the shower stop running. Her senses were off kilter and she felt a bit surreal, and she wondered if she should have taken that extra line. Too late now, she mused.

She was standing naked near the bed when George exited the bathroom. He stopped in his tracks. Seeing her like that never ceased to cause that same reaction.

Near perfect breasts, white flesh sprinkled with freckles so common to red-haired women, her breasts were capped with mauve-colored nipples, the aeroleas the size of silver dollars. Her taut abdomen lead to a small, natural triangle of reddish-brown hair, hiding the true treasure.

George's erection was no less pronounced than the desire in his eyes as he crossed the room and sat down on the bed. Grace turned and knelt down before him, and handed him the requisite glass of wine. Her head was filling with odd images, her breathing a bit shallow.

"On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, a blow job and a glass of Chablis," sang George, quietly, as he drank from the glass.

George guided his wife's mouth to his penis, and watched as it entered, enjoying the exquisite sensation. She would never do this for him any other time of the year, but, during the 12 Days of Christmas, she would give him a blow job each evening for twelve straight nights. Then not again for an entire year. It was something that he asked for their first Christmas together, oral sex, and she was so in love with him that she was willing to do anything. And then the nightmares of her father's abuse kicked in, and she almost killed herself that first year. Instead, she found solace in the white powder that she had heard about from the bad girls when in school, and, got by, barely.

Grace was spiraling downward now, her body felt like it was ablaze yet she was having enormous difficulty concentrating. Even breathing was a challenge. She felt something pushing in and out of her mouth and part of her brain realized that it was George's member, but only part, a fading part.

George thought that Grace was drunk because she was not doing a very good job. He was a little irritated because he had waited so long, so so long for this pleasure. He decided that she needed more help so he took her by the ears and began pulling her head towards him, feeding her his cock, pushing perhaps deeper than she would have normally done so. He rationalized in his mind that it was okay to do so, because she shouldn't have gotten drunk, not tonight of all nights for God's sake.

Deeper and deeper he thrust, feeling her lips up against his pubic hair as he forced all of his cock inside her mouth and now throat. He felt her choke a bit but he pulled back quickly and then thrust in deep again, then back out. He knew he was close now.

"Get ready, darling, because here comes Georgie! Now singggggggg!"

With that, he pulled himself free of her mouth and begin rapidly stroking his cock. Aiming right at her face, he began singing.

"I'mmmmmm...dreaming...of a..."

And his wife, almost in a stupor, stumbled over the words but managed to hit the two key ones.

"...Wh-hite Chris-mass..." just as the end of his cock spewed forth his semen, landing on her cheek, mouth and nose, and mixing with the slight residue of powder that didn't quite get snorted. And with that, she slowly crumpled to the floor, cum dripping from her onto the carpet, her eyes open and now glassy.


In the city

He read about her in the paper. It was somewhat of a scandal, married woman, taking her own life through a heroin overdose. He, of course, saw it somewhat differently. He understood demons all too well. And that's why he supplied her with near pure heroin, to magically take her away from her demons.

He turned on his television. His favorite show was coming on, Leave It To Beaver. Before that, though, he called his mother. Partway through the conversation, his mother asked him if he had been a good boy.

"Yes, mother. Why, just a few days ago I performed a miracle."

He listened patiently.

"No Mom, a miracle. This poor lady was having terrible troubles and no one could help her, but I did Mom, I helped her. And now she is closer to God." He listened again.

"Yes Mom, a miracle. Me and Pope John. I gotta' go now, the Beave is coming on. Goodbye Mom. I love you."


# # #

 

Love Story

CAW 16's theme was Seasons.

Author's notes: I wrote this story because I had been writing “dark” for quite a while and wanted to move to the other side. I saw the original movie with Ryan O'Neal and Ali MacGraw and it broke my heart. The lyrics in here are from the soundtrack (Francis Lai) and I purposely left them out of my CAW writing competition entry because I had used lyrics before in stories, and one objective of the CAW was to remain anonymous. I felt the use of lyrics would help identify me as the author. Final note...there is not much graphic sex in this story. That again seemed to be a trademark in my stories, and I wanted to try something different. Enjoy...

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Love Story




Chapter 1

Where do I begin
To tell the story of how great a love can be
The sweet love story that is older than the sea
The simple truth about the love she brings to me
Where do I start...

Before this evening, I had never thought much about murdering another person.

As the widowed father of two young children, I was always on the go. If it wasn't work, it was the kids. Jessica was 12, and Nicholas was 10. Jessie looked so much like her mom, Rebecca. Nick, well, he had her blue eyes but my darker hair and skin color. Both kids were enrolled in private school, so it was a challenge each day getting them ready and off to school, running a full day at work, and then getting back home to work with them on their homework before bed. We had an au pair from Finland who helped by picking up the kids after school and getting dinner together. Milla had been with us for four years. Occasionally our neighbor, Mrs. McGarry, would watch the kids too.

Work wasn't easy. I was a stock broker on Wall Street, and while that might seem exciting to some, to me it was often pure hell. I wasn't one of the silver-tongued devils who could charm money out of little old ladies. No, it never was that easy for me, and frankly, I could never live with myself if I preyed on people like that. No, I had to struggle for each investment.

Being one of the brokers with the least seniority in the firm, I was given the slush pile. It's a printout of a mish-mash of contacts from investment websites, IRA inquiries, and then just names and numbers of supposedly wealthy individuals. I was technically allowed to look for corporate investments, but for the most part they were handled by the heavy hitters in our firm. I was barely providing enough for us. Rebecca had been a lawyer so she had made good money; a double income household was really needed in New York City these days. She had a life insurance policy, but I was trying not to dip too much into that money, hoping to save it to help the kids go to college. Dipping was becoming more commonplace.

My murderous thoughts reared their ugly head today when I had a meeting with the private school that my kids attended. I had been semi-working on the business manager for a couple of years to let me take a look at their portfolio to see if I could help. Initially there was that look of partial mistrust and disdain, but over time, he must have seen the good in me. Or perhaps he just felt sorry for me for losing my wife in a freak accident. Regardless, he finally relented and agreed to meet with me.

This was a potential breakthrough account for me. The school was pretty well endowed, and the size of the account would have been larger than all of my other accounts combined. It was because of this that my supervisor assigned a Senior Corporate broker to "assist" me with the meeting.

I really didn't see it coming. It might have been me feeling giddy over just getting the appointment, and the potential windfall from the account. I didn't know much about Gerald Forkth, other than he came from "old money" as it was told to me, and he was just working for a few years to get seasoned enough to take over his old man's investment banking firm.

So it wasn't as if he needed the money, yet, that's exactly what happened. The meeting started out well enough I thought. Gerald had apparently met Mr. Whitstone at some politician's house in the Hampton's at New Year's Eve, and then as they shook they both noted the "H" on the ring, you know, the Harvard ring, so they had that to talk about.

I brought the meeting back on-track and began my presentation. Sure enough, the school's internet went down in the middle of my online presentation. Thinking quickly, I excused myself to go back to my vehicle to get a USB wireless device so we could get back online.

It took about 20 minutes for me to get to the car, find the device, and then get back to the business manager's office. When I returned, Gerald was sitting in front of my laptop and showing Mr. Whitstone HIS presentation. Apparently the internet came back up a minute after I had left. Gerald's plan was somewhat more conservative than mine, and he presentation was much slicker. Mr. Whitstone apparently approved, because he rose, shook my hand, thanked me for bringing along my supervisor (which Gerald wasn't) and for recognizing that an account as large as theirs needed a more experienced broker at the helm. Mr. Whitstone then looked at Gerald and asked him if he would accompany him to dinner, that he was meeting with several of the school's Trustees, also Harvard graduates, and would like to introduce him around.

I was dismissed, dissed, and ultimately pissed!

Instead of the full commission, which by my calculation would have probably been in the $50,000 to $60,000 range, and would have taken the financial pressure off of me, I was going to get a 10% finder's fee.

Gerald and Mr. Whitstone left, and I stood there, speechless. It took me a minute to realize that I wasn't alone, that Mr. Whitstone's assistant, Amanda, had been sitting quietly in the room, taking notes as she apparently always did during his meetings.

As she gathered her papers and began to leave, she stopped, put her hand on my arm, and looked at me.

"Hello, and, I'm sorry...that was really shitty," she said in a lowered voice, and with that, she left.

All I noticed was that she was not wearing a ring on her finger.


Chapter 2

With her first hello
She gave new meaning to this empty world of mine
There'll never be another love, another time
She came into my life and made the living fine
She fills my heart

It started out innocently enough. It was time to set up tuition payments for next year, so I needed to stop by Whitstone's office. Thankfully, I didn't need to see him. Instead, I got to see Amanda. My heartbeat quickened a bit when I did and it was totally ridiculous.

"Mr. Rivers," started Amanda, but I quickly interrupted her.

"Please," I said smiling, "it's Jacob."

Amanda smiled warmly, and my heartbeat upped a little bit more.

"Jacob," she started again, "I have your paperwork prepared from the information that you sent in last week. I'll just need your signature here," she continued, leaning forward to point out on the paperwork where I needed to sign, "and here, and here."

When she looked up, she caught my eye and saw that I had been gazing at her exposed cleavage. My eyes just naturally gravitated there when she bent forward. All I saw was the swell of her breasts, but, that was enough for me to blush when she caught me.

This was absurd. I loved my wife. Deceased wife.

"I'm sorry." I scribbled my signature three times and then practically dashed out of the place.


Chapter 3

The next week was filled with running the kids to the dentist, working on homework, including a science project with Jessie, and other assorted tasks. Mrs. McGarry asked me if I would help her hang a picture of her late husband, Leo. The kids loved to go over to her apartment because it contained a treasure trove of historical items that she took great pleasure in talking to the kids about.

Then there was the weird incident with Milla. It happened a couple of nights ago. Both of the kids had showered and gone to bed. After saying goodnight, I went downstairs to fix a cocktail to settle me down from some stress at work and Milla was in the kitchen emptying the dishwasher.

"I'm going to fix myself a cocktail. Would you like something?"

Milla turned around, her long, dark curls flipping around as she spun.

"Mr. Rivers, you startled me!"

"Milla, remember, we talked about this, when the kids aren't around, it's okay to call me Jake."

She smiled coyly. "Okay, Jake. Yes, may I have a glass of wine?"

I poured Milla a glass of White Zin and tossed a double splash of Peach schnapps into a glass for me.

We settled into the living room on the sofa, Milla angled toward me. She told me a few things about the kids, nothing important, just details that I miss while I'm at work.

Milla was wearing loose shorts and a t-shirt. Maybe it was the way she was sitting, or perhaps it was just the type of fabric the shorts were made of, or it could have just been the angle of how we were sitting and the lighting, but, I noticed two things.

First, the shorts gapped, so I could see along her thigh right to her lower abdomen, and it looked like she wasn't wearing panties.

Second, the erection I developed very quickly made me realize that I hadn't had sex for, well, since Becca died. Milla's sexy good looks weren't helping.

She must have noticed my erection and my feeble attempt to hide it.

"Jake, I know it has been really tough on you, raising Jess and Nick and working so many hours. You haven't been out on any dates, and, well, what I want to say is if you, I mean, if you want to, hmmm, I just want to say that my room is just down the hall."

With that, Milla blushed, tipped her wine glass up and finished off what I had poured her, then got up and left, heading toward her room.

I finished my drink, poured a second, and stared down that hallway for a long couple of minutes, finished my drink, and went off to bed.

My dreams that night were off the wall bizarre. I was in a meadow with Amanda, laying on a blanket, making out. It grew more passionate and clothes began to fly. When I looked down at her again, it was Milla's face I saw. Startled, I began to pull back but she reached up and grabbed me, pulling me down onto her naked body and kissing me hard. When she rolled me over and was on top, I again opened my eyes and first saw a pair of breasts that looked familiar.

I looked further up and saw Becca's face. It was then that I awoke in a cold sweat.


Chapter 4

That morning I dropped both kids off and was ready to exit the lot when I noticed Amanda standing next to her car, looking distraught, then kicking it! I pulled over next to her and got out.

"Amanda, what's wrong?" I asked, walking toward her.

"Jacob, oh, I did something totally stupid. I got out of the car with it running because I wanted to check my turn signals and the door closed and I must have pushed the "lock" button on the door and --" she was running out of breath and my heart was once again racing.

"Slow down there, Amanda. Bottom line, you locked your keys in the car and you don't have a spare set handy?"

"Yes," I could see the frustration getting ready to boil over into tears any second now.

I moved to her Camaro, peered inside, and announced "I've got this, relax." Then I walked over to my Tahoe, got inside and activated my OnStar. Within a minute, after verifying my identity and Amanda's, we heard the "click" of her door locks being opened.

She clapped her hands giddily and opened up her car, shutting off the engine, and re-appearing. I had just finished up the call with OnStar and got out of my vehicle. Amanda came over and gave me a hug and said "Thank you, Jacob. Thank you so much!"

"Oh, it was nothing, really. OnStar did all of the work, I just made the call."

"Yeah, but if you hadn't have stopped, I would have had to call a locksmith, and that would have cost me $150 here in the city. Let me take you out to dinner to thank you."

I looked at her for a moment, not sure what to say. She saw my reticence and then gasped a bit.

"Oh, Jacob, I'm sorry, you aren't ready, and oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean anything--"

"Yes."

She stopped talking and looked at me, her head cocked just a bit to one side.

"Did you just say 'Yes'?"

I smiled, just a little smile, and nodded.

"Great. Will Friday night work?"

I thought for a moment, mentally going over my schedule, the kid's schedule, and Milla's schedule. I knew Milla would be busy, but I was sure that Mrs. McGarry would be willing to take the kids, and they'd love a night away.

"Yes, Friday is good."

"Great. I'll pick you up at 7."

I started reaching for something to write my address on.

"Here, let me give you my address--"

"I know where you live, Jacob," she said with an impish grin, and then turned and walked away.

I would bet dollars against doughnuts that she swung her hips extra because she knew I would be looking. To her credit, she never did look back.


Chapter 5

There's nothing wrong with being a bit nervous I kept telling myself. It was just a date.

"Dad, I have a question."

I heard my daughter's voice through the door.

"Yes?"

"Can I come in?"

Without thinking about what I was wearing, being somewhat distracted by my impending date, I told her she could enter.

"Dad," she said, opening the door to my bedroom and walking in, "I have a question about...uh, Dad, what are you doing?"

"Getting dressed, Jessie. What's your question?"

"Where are you going?" It was night, and I rarely went anywhere at night, let alone dressed up in a tie and sport coat.

"I, um, I'm, I'm going out, I have ... do you have your homework done?"

"Dad, it's Friday night. I have all weekend."

"Oh, yeah, good point. Well, it's never too early to get it done." I was stumbling.

"Dad...are you going on a date?"

Oh shit, I thought. This was not how I wanted this to go.

"Jessie, it's not really a date, I'm just going out to dinner with ... someone, not a date, no, just..."

"Dad, it's okay," she said, looking up at me with just the hint of a smile.

I looked at her for a few, long seconds.

"Are you sure, Jessie?"

Now there was a smile.

"Yes, Daddy...it's totally cool. Who is she?"

Oh shit.

"Is it someone that I know?"

Great. This was getting worse.

"Is it Miss Lakes?"

"Who?"

"Miss Lakes. She works for Mr. Whitstone at school. She's the one who you helped in the park--"

Are. You. Kidding. I don't blush often, but once in a while...

"It IS Miss Lakes, isn't it!"

"What makes you think it is Miss Lakes?"

"Well, you blushed when I told you who she was. I saw her hug you."

I went back to fiddling with my tie. I just couldn't get the knot right tonight, even though I tie one every day of the week, every week of the year.

"Here," said Jessie, walking over with her hands out, "let me help you, Daddy."

I relinquished control and watched as my daughter took matters into her hands, pulling and sliding her hands, flipping it around, pulling on it, and then...success. A perfect Windsor!

"Jessie," I said, looking down at her as she stepped back, "where did you learn to do that?"

She shrugged.

"Jessie...did Mom teach you that?"

This brought a little water to her sparkling eyes.

"Yes. Mo--Mom taught me a while ago. I've been practicing lately, wanting to surprise you. For work. " She rubbed her eye.

"Thank you, Jessie," and I hugged her. "Are you sure this is okay?"

"Totally, Dad," she said, her voice muffled by my chest, where she had her head buried, "totally okay."


Chapter 6

Amanda picked me up at 7pm sharp and swiftly moved through traffic, talking a blue streak which was good since I was a little tongue-tied. She seemed a little extra bubbly tonight. Probably nerves, I thought. The kids were spending the night at Mrs. McGarry's, so if things developed tonight, I was covered.

The place she picked out was La Casa Dario, a small family-owned Italian restaurant on West 47th Street. I liked the choice she made because it was small, quiet and the food was authentic.

It was about halfway through dinner that she dropped the bombshell.

“Jake,” as she cut a piece of pork cutlet, “I have a confession to make.”

“Oh, what’s that?”

“A confession? It’s an admittance by one person regarding something that they’ve done, but, that’s not important.” She flashed me a cheeky grin.

“Smart ass!”

“Seriously, I’ve had a crush on you ever since I first saw you.”

I had just taken a large sip of wine and that totally caught me by surprise. So I had a split-second choice of spewing, or swallowing and risk it going down the wrong pipe.

I chose not to spew, so instead I coughed and choked and tried to breathe, unsuccessfully, and a waiter came over and asked if I needed help. All through this, Amanda tried not to laugh at my plight, to no avail.

“A crush?” I said, still sputtering.

“Yes, it's a brief but intense infatuation with someone--”

“Hush,” I said, cutting her off. She grinned again, and I could feel a rustling in my pants.

“Well, since we're just talking brief, then--”

We were sitting at a table for four, next to each other, not across from each other. Amanda cut me off by leaning across toward me, her hand behind my head, pulling me into the kiss. As we backed apart, and I looked into her eyes, two things were apparent to me.

First, she was a great kisser.

Second, there was no further rustling in my pants. There was simply a tent.

We finished dinner a little quicker than normal with a little less conversation. She paid the bill, the waiter giving me a quick look before we rose and departed.

I didn't even dare ask where we were going, but it turned out to be her apartment, not too far from the school, in a nice, quiet, older neighborhood.

“Would you like something to drink?” she asked, setting her purse down just inside the door.

“Sure, glass of wine, anything--”

Amanda was in my arms before I could finish my sentence, her mouth pressed against mine, her tongue seeking mine out. She tasted great, the subtle flavor of the wine we had for dinner returning.

I pushed her back against the wall, returning the kiss and hearing her moan softly at my taking charge. Her hands busied themselves, first pushing the sport jacket off of my shoulders, which I then wiggled out of, and second, working on removing my tie.

I opted for a less patient approach.

“Gawddd...” she moaned into my mouth as I reached up and squeezed her breasts with both my hands. Then I began unbuttoning her blouse.

With clothes flying askew, I picked her up and began carrying her.

“Oh Jake...I don't know if I'm ready for this!” she said, looking down at me.

I stopped moving forward, stunned. Then she broke into that devilish smile of hers.

“I'm kidding, you idiot! Onward!” she said, leaning down to kiss me again.

As I began to move forward once more, she broke the kiss for a second to say “Left!” and I turned left, then more kissing followed by a “Right!” and that found us in her bedroom.

Depositing her on the bed, I finished getting my shirt off as I felt Amanda working on my belt and pants. In seconds all I was wearing were my boxers. She pulled me down on the bed and I rolled her on top, reaching behind her to get at her bra.

“Mmmmmmm...” she said, wiggling around on top of me, “I feel something nice, Jake,” she continued, smiling down at me.

I was struggling a bit with the bra, out of practice and never adept at that task.

“Let me help before you break it,” she laughed, reaching around with one hand and deftly removing it.

As her breasts came into view, it was my turn to moan, then hers, as I reached up and brushed my thumbs across her nipples, which continued to harden.

I pulled her down once again for a kiss, and a tongue hockey match broke out. Once again I was using my hands on her breasts, eliciting yet more sexy sounds. Gently, I squeezed both of her breast points, causing her to break from the kiss and arch her back, moaning louder.

She backed away, causing my fingers to release her nipples, and started moving down my body. Her face was just scant inches from my boxers. My tented boxers.

Amanda smiled and with both hands took hold of them and pulled them down my legs and off my feet, leaving me totally naked before her. She looked at me for a moment, my crotch, then up to my eyes, then back to my crotch once again.

Her hands got busy with her jeans, unbuttoning them, and then pulling them down and off. The understated black thong was next, and then she too was naked. My eyes widened a bit as I saw a narrow strip of dark hair shaped like an arrow, pointing downward.

“I thought you might like that,” she said, huskily. As she moved again to the bed, she leaned forward, a breast grazing one leg, her lips gently kissing my knee.

I sucked in a little air as she continued the light kisses up my thigh, moving toward her final destination....

She fills my hear with very special things
With angel's songs, with wild imaginings
She fills my soul with so much love
That anywhere I go I'm never lonely
With her around, who could be lonely
I reach for her hand – it's always there

Sated, we lay in bed together, her head on my chest, my arm draped over her shoulder and onto her back.

“Wow,” I said quietly out loud, no further explanation needed.

“Yeah.”


Chapter 7

The next six months were nothing short of a whirlwind. We were careful around school so as not to make it obvious, but come the weekend, we'd go on excursions into the upstate, more often than not bringing the kids with us. Jessie really took a liking to Amanda, and Nick, well, he was fine with whatever we did so long as he could bring along his iPad.

Amanda spent many nights over at my place, often helping Jessie with some homework while I'd look over Nick's assignment. Often she'd be home long before I dragged my butt up the elevator and would have dinner cooking or cooked.

Sometimes at night we'd all gather in the living room and watch a movie. Occasionally Milla would join us, though more often than not she'd retire to her own room. On occasion I'd come home and find Amanda and Milla sitting in the kitchen, enjoying a glass of wine and having, as they called it, “girl talk”.

Even work was getting better. That prick Forkth got caught cheating on his fiance and that ended badly for him. Rumor had it that his father was so displeased with him that he was going to make him wait an extra few years before turning over the firm to him. News of that put a big smile on my face.

I had made my peace with Becca, too. I went to her plot a month ago and sat and talked to her, laughed, and cried, and came away with what I had hoped was a clear mind. I had made up my mind that I was going to ask Amanda to be my wife. I decided that I'd pop the question on New Year's Eve. It was only a few weeks away, and I planned to make it a very special occasion.

It was the 19th of December, a Friday, when I went to pick up the ring. Just over one carat in size, it was heart-shaped, and stunning. I couldn't wait to give it to her. I had made reservations weeks ago at the Four Seasons. I knew one of the managers there from my work and snagged a great table. I dialed her number.

“Hey,” she answered, her voice not nearly as chipper as typical.

“Hey babe, you okay? You sound, I don't know...tired?”

“I feel yucky. I may be getting my period a few days early. I think I'm gonna' go home. I'm sorry, I know we were gonna' go upstate for the weekend, I just don't think I can make it.”

“Hey, don't apologize, Amanda. I'm just sorry you can't go. You want me to call it off and get Milla to watch the kids and I'll come over and--”

“No, no, don't come over. I'll be fine. You take the kids, they've been looking forward to this trip. I'll be fine, babe.”

“Okay. I'll give you a call tomorrow and see how you are. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

On Saturday, the kids and I started the morning with making a snowman, which quickly degenerated into a snowball fight, the two of them against me. I lost. Then after some hot showers we went skiing in the afternoon. I called Amanda early in the afternoon and got her voicemail. She called back later in the afternoon.

“Hey Jake.” She sounded no better than the day before.

“Still feeling yucky, babe?”

“Yeah, I don't know, this is unlike me. I don't get sick. Didn't get my period yet. Haven't eaten much either, just not hungry.”

“Maybe the flu?”

“I don't know. My stomach hurts, so that's probably what it is. It sure is annoying. But hey, give my love to the kids, and I'll see you when you get back.”

I called Amanda late on Sunday when I returned but just got voicemail. I called again later in the evening when I didn't get a callback, and again got voicemail. This was atypical of her, so, with Milla available, I decided to take a ride over to her place.

I knocked on her door, and when I didn't get any response, I used the key she had given me and let myself in.

“Amanda,” I said, tentatively, not wanting to scare her.

I thought I heard her voice in the bedroom, but it sounded distant. I walked over to the closed door.

“Amanda?” and I listened.

“Jake...help me,” she cried out softly.

How long does it last
Can love be measured by the hours in a day
I have no answers now but this much I can say
I know I'll need her 'till the stars all burn away
And she'll be there

I don't know if I've ever been quite as scared in my life as when I walked through the door to her bedroom and saw her laying there.

Her skin was jaundiced, a yellow color, and even her eyes too. I'd seen this twice before in my family.

Pancreatic cancer.

I lifted her up out of bed and carried her out of her apartment, down the elevator, and out to my car. I went back in and quickly grabbed a few essentials and got back in the car, heading for Mount Sinai Hospital at a fast clip.

Doctors confirmed that it was cancer the next day. As if that wasn't bad enough, we were told for all stages combined, the 1-year survival rate was 25%, and the 5-year rate was 6%.

As the doctor's departed, I pulled Amanda into my arms and let her cry.

The nurses gave Amanda something to help her sleep since she hadn't slept well all weekend. I went home that night and upon entering was descended upon by both kids wanting to know where I had been, was Amanda okay, and a dozen other questions.

I brought both kids into the living room and sat them down.

“Amanda is, well, she's pretty sick. She's in the hospital, and--”

“What's wrong with her, Dad?” asked Jessie, now sitting forward.

“Well, they are running tests, well, ran some, but they're gonna run some more, you know, they need to double check results, can't ever be too careful--”

“Dad?” said Jessie, cutting me off.

“Yes?”

“Is it c-a-n-c-e-r?” she asked, spelling out the word and nodding toward my coat pocket. I saw a cancer brochure peeking out of it. Shit!

“You idiot, Jess, I can spell cancer!” blurted out Nick.

Both kids were focused on me with laser-like precision. I looked up and to the left a bit, and saw that Milla was standing in the hallway, in the shadows, listening.

I looked at both of my kids. They were young, so young, to have to go through this again.

“Yes.”

And then I sat down between them, and held them, and the three of us cried.


Chapter 8

Over the next week Amanda and I met with a number of different doctors. Not one really had anything good to say. You could see it in their eyes if you looked carefully enough.

It was inoperable, so, chemotherapy was the only choice available, unless we wanted to consider other non-traditional options. We said we were open to pretty much anything. The two doctors in the room exchanged glances, then looked back toward us. One began to speak in hushed tones.

It was apparent quite quickly that what they were suggesting was not entirely ethical, and would require more than a degree of careful handling.

It was at that point in the conversation that Joshua Whitstone entered the room. I felt my anger start to rise.

“Settle down, Mr. Rivers,” he said in a solemn tone, removing his hat and nodding toward Amanda, “I may be the one person here who actually can help you.”

I remained seated, but somewhat agitated, as the old man began talking to Amanda, asking her what she knew about her father.

“I know very little about my father, sir. I know that he left my mother when I was young and then she died two years later. After that I was raised by my grandmother. Why do you ask?”

Whitstone looked over at the two doctors and they got up and left the room.

“This is somewhat of a long story, Amanda.”

“I'm not sure that I have a long time to give you, Mr. Whit--”

“I am your father, Amanda,” he said, interrupting her.

Amanda and I looked at each other, and then back to him.


Epilogue – The Funeral

Going to a funeral on the first day of Spring just didn't seem right. Neither did it seem right that my kids would have to once again be a part of this macabre ritual. There are those who say that it is part of the healing process, of closure. Personally, I think all of it sucks, especially when it is someone that you care for.

Appropriately, it was raining, though lightly. Both kids were noticeably quiet as I took them down the elevator to the car. Both were dressed politically correct. Milla had left earlier this morning to handle things like making sure the flowers were all set, and other arrangements.

As we drove to the church, it was Nick who spoke up first.

“Dad, I'm really going to miss her.”

“I know, Nick. I'm going to miss her too.”

We drove in silence the rest of the way. Once inside the church, we moved forward and I saw Whitstone. He nodded at the empty pew where he was sitting, and I motioned for the kids to take a seat. Milla soon joined us, helping Amanda. She sat next to me, with Milla moving to the end, nearest Amanda's father.

“How are you feeling?” I whispered to her, holding her cold hand in my warm one.

She smiled and I could see that familiar twinkle in her eye.

“I'm good, babe. Last night was a good night.” I knew she was referring to sleep, sleep which was a source of her strength these days.

I squeezed her hand just a little harder, and she tried to squeeze back, but just didn't have the strength. Not yet, but, it would return, we were told.

Through the influence of her father, Amanda, after undergoing extensive chemotherapy, received a pancreas transplant. The organ came from a young woman who died of complications from a traffic accident who was in a foreign country but had affiliation to the school through one of the trustees. A large sum of money was paid to the donor's family, the money coming from the personal estate of Amanda's father. It wasn't illegal, but nonetheless, the school and all involved wanted to keep the details confidential.

Amanda was still coming to grips with the details of why her father didn't tell her who he was, but, they were making steady progress toward reconciliation.

Me? I was just thrilled that the second woman that I loved, one whom I was so worried would be taken from me, was alive and that the prognosis was very optimistic. We were planning a June wedding.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here to celebrate the life of Jenny McGarry...”

I bowed my head, and as a tear formed in my eye, I reflected upon the changes that had taken place in my life, and in those around me, and gave silent thanks.

When I looked up, I looked a little higher, to the ceiling, and then beyond, and, hugging the kids, I hoped that Becca was watching and approving.

 

My name is Mitt. Walter Mitt.

CAW 17's theme was uniforms, and you could write multiple stories, so I did just that. This first one was a take-off on The Secret Life of Walter Mitty. The second was a more serious tale of a college professor's woes.

-------------------------

My name is Mitt. Walter Mitt.

A cacophony of sounds poured forth from the open bay doors at the back of the Aardvark Uniform Factory building, from the rhythmic, thrush-like sewing machines to the random clattering of cutting and folding machines.

Walter Mitt, “Wally” as he was somewhat derisively called by male co-workers, was seated outside the door on the loading dock, his steel grey lunch box opened next to him. He quietly ate his bologna sandwich, small apple, and Snickers bar without interruption. People passed by, co-workers, delivery crews, but no one stopped to engage him in conversation or offered a greeting. This was fine with Wally. It allowed him to engage in his favorite pastime, daydreaming.

Looking at the stainless steel Timex watch on his left arm, Wally leaned back against the wall, reveling in the knowledge that the next forty-two minutes were his and his alone. Even his boss, Miss Crenshaw, would not disturb him during lunch break, union rules being very specific about downtime.

Closing his eyes, Wally worked at picking up the thread of his last daydream...

“That was some game you pitched today, Mitt!” exclaimed the white-haired Stengel, patting Mitt on the back of his uniform.

“Thank you, Skip,” replied Mitt, smiling broadly for his manager, but especially for the three broads seated at the table with him.

“Ladies,” continued Stengel, “you are looking at the man who pitched a no-hitter today!”

Mitt smile broadened further, though secretly his wished his manager would skedaddle so that he could get on with dinner and then have one, two or all three of these fine women for dessert.

Stengel leaned close to Mitt. “Don't work too hard tonight, kid!” and with that he patted Mitt's shoulder and then moved on to the next table where Mantle, Ford and Rizzuto were dining.

Dinner progressed quickly, the three women sipping their champagne and clinging to every word that Mitt spoke. He then suggested a nightcap upstairs in his hotel room and not surprisingly, all three women agreed to join him.

The elevator ride up was a minor grope fest, but it was nothing compared to the orgy that ensued. Clothes strewn from one end of the room to the other, the center of attention was the California king-sized bed with four naked bodies intertwined in lustful pursuits. The big-breasted brunette was on her hands and knees, ass up, face down between the legs of one of the two blondes, feasting away at her like there was a fountain of ambrosia between her legs. Mitt was pounding the raven-tressed beauty from behind, while behind him the other blonde was fondling his family jewels with well-practiced handling. Mitt felt the waves of ecstasy start to lap upon his beachhead...
​

“MR. MITTY!” came the loud voice, startling Wally and causing him to topple his thermos and upend his lunchbox.

“Yes, Miss Crenshaw?” asked Mitt, fumbling to regain his composure.

Holding out her right arm, the tall, statuesque woman with dark hair looked at her watch. “It's is nearly twenty seconds past lunch break, Mr. Mitt. Were you planning on daydreaming the day away or would you mind getting back to work?”

“Sorry, Miss Crenshaw. Right away, Miss Crenshaw,” and with that, he dropped down and quickly began scooping the remains of his lunch into the lunchbox as he heard his boss turn and walk away, her heels clicking out their rhythmic beat.

“Tickle your ass with a feather?” said Mitt, under his breath.

The rhythmic beat came to a skidding halt.

“What was that you said?” was the sharp reply from Miss Crenshaw, who had whirled around and was now standing with her hands clenched at her sides.

“Particularly nasty weather,” replied Mitt, who hustled past her and into the factory, putting his lunch box into his locker and then moved along quickly to his workstation.

“Mitt,” said Miss Crenshaw as she approached with a sheet of paper, “now that you've finally finished with the Little League uniforms, here's an order from TWA for some pilot's uniforms. Do see if you can get them done quicker, hmm?” and with that she turned and departed, click-clack, click-clack, click-clack.

Mitt had gone to college to become a designer, but at the Aardvark Uniform Factory, so named to get the first placement in the yellow pages directory under uniforms, he had never reached his potential. His job title was Expediter, which was a fancy title for order processor. He received the promotion and fifteen-cent per hour raise six years ago when old man Gutherd passed.

Married with two children, Mitt's wife was Vice President of the First National Bank in town, and had her sights on becoming President when the current holder of that position retired in a few years. She was a shrewd woman who wore the pants in the family, guiding and guarding her children hawkishly. She regarded Mitt as a necessary component to have children and to complete the family picture, but beyond that, he was less in the family pecking order than the pet dog. She spoke to him perfunctorily, with no respect but without a lack of it either. Separate twin beds were de facto standard, and once a month she allowed him to enter her bed for a short, missionary romp.

Mitt began looking over the order from TWA, pulling out the requisite paperwork to begin the process, his mind drifted into fantasy...

“Ladies and Gentlemen, my name is Walter Mitt, and I'm your pilot. We are currently cruising at an altitude of 33,000 feet, moving from west to east at 575 miles per hour. We'll arrive at LaGuardia Airport at approximately 4:45 this afternoon. If you have any questions, contact one of the stewardesses and they will see to all of your needs. Thank you for choosing TWA.”

Clicking the mic off, Mitt looked over at his co-pilot. “Ted, can you handle it for a bit?”

“Sure Captain, no problem,” and with that, Ted engaged his controls and put his hands on the controls.

Getting up and walking out of the cockpit, Walt strolled back through First Class, greeting passengers, shaking hands with men, bowing and tipping his cap to women. As he caught the eye of one of the first class stewardesses, he winked with a smile, and enjoyed watching her blush and turn away.

A few moments later, after finishing his meet and greet, Walt opened the door to the crew restroom and stepped inside. Standing inside the semi-cramped space was Barbara, the top three buttons of her uniform unbuttoned to emphasize her abundant cleavage. Walt immediately noticed that her nipples were standing at attention.

“Come here,” he said. Barbara moved close to him. She was the most recent stewardess to join Walt's crew, and, was going to become his most recent conquest. Tall, busty, with long dark brown hair, she was one hot-looking woman, he thought.

Pressing his lips up to hers, he watched her eyes close and her cheeks turn pink. She may have seemed demure, but it was her tongue which first pressed forward up against his lips, then entering his mouth to intertwine.

Feeling her large bosom pressing up against him, Mitt knew that time would be limited. Pulling back he quickly spun the shapely woman around and pressed up against her, his manhood pushing into her buttocks and forcing her to lean forward on the vanity, her hands up against the mirror to steady her.

Mitt bit her shoulder blade that was exposed at the top of her uniform, eliciting a groan of arousal from the rapidly succumbing woman, who pushed back against his hardness and then wiggled.

Dropping to one knee, Mitt pushed the back of her dress upward, exposing her white panties. Pulling them down, he heard her gasp slightly as her nether regions were suddenly exposed. Feeling the pressure of time, Mitt leaned forward and began licking at the exposed pussy, the hairs tickling his face.

“Oh God...” he heard her say, and, stopping for just a second, he replied, “it's Mitt” and then started to go back to his reverse muff diving. The sight before him caused him to pause. Her tiny rosebud. So small, so clean looking. Mitt smiled deviantly and revised his plan.

“Oh...Captain! Oh my, Captain!” exhaled the excited young woman, feeling him licking her in places she'd never been licked.

“Did you really,” lick, “think that TWA,” lick, “stands for Trans,” lick, “World Airlines?” Mitt continued his oral assault on her backside. “TWA stands for,” lick, “tongue whip,” lick, “the anus.” She didn't really hear him, her eyes closed, her concentration on the edge of the vanity that was pressed up against her pleasure center. She vaguely felt the licking stop, and didn't want her pleasure to decrease so she rotated her hips a bit, feeling the hardness of the vanity against her clit through the front of her uniform. Close, she thought, close.

Mitt dribbled some spit into his hand and then slathered it over his cock while watching her rotate her buttocks, encouraging him to continue his lewd thoughts. Moving forward and holding her hips steady, he set the tip of his cock against her moistened anus. Not giving her a chance to clench, he thrust forward and several inches of his thick muscle entered her. Quickly reaching around with his hand, he covered her mouth, correctly expecting a scream to come forth.

“Relax,” hissed Mitt as he pushed another couple of inches inside, “it'll feel good real soon,” and with just another couple of inches left, he gave a final thrust forward, his ball sack pressing up against her pussy lips.

“MMMMMHHMHMHMMM!!!” was her muffled response, her body a mixture of pain and pleasure as the pressure against her clitoral area was increased.

Mitt pulled back and then thrust forward again, feeling the compression against his cock and reveling in his dominance once again over a woman. The slickness supplied by his saliva allowed him to saw in and out of her ass quicker now as she spread her legs a little wider.

Leaning forward, his mouth just a scant inch from her ear, he spoke to her in hushed tones. “That's right, take it in the ass. I'm in charge...I'm the boss...” and he felt the rush of an orgasm starting to rise within him...
​

“...Mitt! For God sakes man, are you listening to me?”

The shrill pitch of Miss Crewshaw's voice quickly snapped Mitt from his reverie.

So close, oh so close, he thought.

“Yes, Miss Crenshaw, of course, ma'am.” Mitt snapped to attention so quickly that he slipped and tipped his chair over, falling ass over teakettle onto the linoleum floor.

Patricia Crenshaw was prepared to deliver one of her patented tongue-lashings yet once again to Mitt but as she started to open her mouth her eyes noticed a bulge in the crotch of his pants. She was so taken aback by the wanton display of lust that she stammered, then turned on her heel and walked quickly away, click-clack, click-clack, click-clack.

The rest of the day was mostly uneventful for Mitt as he worked diligently to pull together all of the steps necessary to complete the order for TWA. Each time Miss Crenshaw passed within sight he made sure that he was moving or otherwise looking busy so as not to incur her wrath again.

The following morning when Mitt arrived to work, there was a note at his workstation that ordered him to report to Miss Crenshaw's office immediately.

Nervously, palms a bit sweaty, he trudged toward her office. Knocking on her door, his mind raced with possibilities, none of them good.

“Come in,” came the voice from within.

Mitt opened the door and walked inside cautiously. Miss Crenshaw was seated at her desk. She did not offer him a chair.

“Mitt,” she began, “we have a special job coming up tomorrow. It's from the government. You'll get the details tomorrow. Just make sure you are here on-time, understood?”

“Yes, Miss Crenshaw!” he replied enthusiastically.

“Good. For today, here's a work order for some uniforms for the guards at the prison,” and with that, she handed him another work order, slowly looking up, her eyes pausing at his crotch. Noticing no bulge, they quickly moved up to his eyes. “Don't screw this up, Mitt.”

“Yes, Miss Crenshaw,” said and quickly turned to head out, mumbling “like to screw you”.

“What was that?” she said, rising from her chair.

“I said 'no screw ups', Ma'am” and with that he quickly departed the room, closing the door behind him.

Back at his workstation, Mitt looked over the work order. It didn't appear to be too difficult, so as he started to pull together the paperwork, his mind once again drifted off...

Mitt listened to the click-clack, click-clack, click-clack as each of the doors to the cells slid closed and locked, securing the women in their eight foot by six foot mini-prisons. Next the lights were dimmed and all was relatively quiet. The count was done, and now the long night shift would begin.

Mitt enjoyed the night shift. There wasn't a lot to do other than walk the corridors and make sure that no one was trying to escape. Occasionally there was a medical emergency, but that too was rare. So this gave Mitt plenty of opportunity to gawk at the female prisoners. Some of them, as he and other guards would comment, were ugly as a bag of assholes, but there were plenty that were decent enough to look at, and then there were the rare few who really turned heads.

Being a medium security facility, there were no murderers here, so the danger level was pretty low. Still, one had to stay alert when prisoners were out in the open. But at night, virtually all of them were locked up.

Prisoner 247 had been working late in the kitchen and was just now being returned to Cellblock C. Mitt's job would be to escort her up the stairwell to the second level and then manually unlock her cell and then lock her in.

Prisoner 247 was one of the rare beauties, her dark hair worn down, her breasts struggling within the confines of the prison jumpsuit. Even without make-up her beauty shone through.

As Mitt was walking behind her, watching the sway of her hips back and forth as they climbed the stairwell, he heard the sound of metal striking the concrete floor. Reaching down, he picked up a crudely crafted weapon known as a shank. He then looked up at the woman in front of him. She was white with fright.

“What is the meaning of this?” asked Mitt, holding out the weapon in front of him, his other hand on his baton.

“I'm sor-r-rry. This other prisoner, she's been threatening me, and--” she began explaining but was cut off.

“That's no excuse. No weapons permitted, no exceptions, you know that.”

Prisoner 247 lowered her eyes to the floor in resignation.

“You know this is an automatic suspension of privileges, right? No visitors for 90 days, no--”

Prisoner 247's head shot up at that statement and she interrupted Mitt, taking a step forward.

“No please! Please, my daughter, she comes to see me every week, it's the only thing that keeps me going in here, please, please, you can't take that away from me!”

“Well, there's not much I can do. I'll have to report this.”

“Please,” the woman softly pleaded, sitting down on the stairwell, “please, there has to be something I can do to convince you not to do this.”

Mitt looked down at her, seeing the tears forming in her eyes, but more importantly, noticing how full her lips appeared, and how her face was now at the same level as his crotch. He felt a stirring in his trousers.

“I don't know. Rules are rules. I can't imagine anything changing my mind.”

Prisoner 247 looked up at Mitt and slowly put her hands on his thighs, then moved her face closer to his groin. When she spoke, he could feel her breath.

“Please...my daughter means everything to me...please...let me...show you...just how important...she is...to me...”

With that, she took one hand and unzipped him slowly, then using both hands, reached into his trousers and through his Fruit of the Looms until she found his cock, both hot and now hard. Gently pulling it out, when it was finally exposed she commented quietly on how large and hard it was, and then bathed it with her tongue as she enclosed the first three inches in her mouth.

Mitt quickly pocketed the shank and then held onto the railing as the exquisite feeling of her wet tongue raced up and down his shaft, her lips taking in more until she reached the point where she began bobbing her head up and down.

As Mitt's brain processed the fact that he was getting a blowjob from Prisoner 247, he thought briefly about his wife and how she had never opted to give him this kind of pleasure.

Feeling the suction from her mouth, the swirling of her tongue on the underside of the head of his cock, and seeing her looking up at him and catching his eye, Mitt said to her “You're going to do this every night from now on!” and watched as she, mouth full of his cock, nodded in agreement. He then took a hold of her hair with his one free hand and prepared to unload a couple of week's worth of semen into her...
​

“Mitt! What are you doing?” came the shrill sound, Miss Crenshaw's finger pointing to Mitt's hand, which had scrunched up the sample prison guard uniform material.

Releasing the sample, Mitt tried to focus.

“I was just testing out the weight of the material, the tensile fiber strength, Miss Crenshaw.”

Mitt saw her think about what he said, then watched as her eyes flickered down to what must have been his hand, because it wouldn't have been his crotch, although he did feel some hardness remaining from his daydream, and then her eyes returned to his. She nodded her approval of his explanation, and then saw her turn and walk away, click-clack, click-clack, click-clack.

Mitt said softly, “Almost came in your mouth...”

Miss Crenshaw stopped and twirled around. “Did you say--”

“Almost claimed by the South is what I said, Miss Crenshaw, you know,” said Mitt, holding up the crumpled material, “the Stars and Stripes Forever,” and he displayed the deep blue color of the fabric.

Miss Crenshaw furrowed her brow, then strode off once again, not turning back.

Mitt exhaled and then went back to work on the uniforms, wondering what tomorrow would bring.

Tomorrow brought chaos. Mitt was excited when he found another note at his workstation in the morning, so he quickly made his way to Miss Crenshaw's office and knocked on her door.

Beckoned to enter, he did so and stopped in his tracks when he saw that Miss Crenshaw's blouse had a button undone, showing just the hint of cleavage.

“Mitt, here's the order I was telling you about yesterday. Now, Mitt, it's from the Central Intelligence Agency.”

At the mention of that secretive agency, gears started to turn in Mitt's mind.

“This is an unusual order in that they want small quantities of a wide range of products in varying colors, sizes and styles. It's a big job, Mitt, an important job. And it requires secrecy. Are you up for it?”

“Why yes Miss Crenshaw, yes I am.”

Mitt saw his boss study him for a moment, and then she handed him the work order and dismissed him.

Mitt practically skipped back to his workstation. Then his mind starting working in overdrive.

And it requires secrecy, she said, thought Mitt. He looked over the placement of his workstation. He was back up against a wall, and somewhat away from others, but he wanted to make improvements. He first changed the orientation of his workstation. Next he got a few cubicle panels out of the storage room and strategically placed them, effectively walling off his area except for a small entrance off to the side.

Mitt stood back and admired his work. Then he began looking into the details of the order, making notes, and thinking about the myriad of details. It looked like he was going to be outfitting...agents! Secret agents! Mitt decided then and there that he would put his best effort into this work order because being the patriot that he was, this was important work, perhaps critical to the future of the country.

And then it began yet once again...

The iconic recitation of the adhan, the call to prayer for Muslims, echoed throughout Istanbul. It was early evening, and Mitt knew the muezzin were calling the faithful to Maghrib, the fourth of the five obligations of Salat, the formal worship.

He had been in the historical crossroads city for several months, immersing himself in Turkish culture, attending Salat, and most importantly, making inroads into the House of Fahir, one of the oldest and most prosperous families in Istanbul.

Today, thought Mitt, today all of this work will determine the fate of Marilyn Simms.

Kidnapped almost a year and a half earlier, the British heiress had been long thought dead due to no ransom demands for her release. But Mitt knew better. MI6 had received intel six months ago that she was being held in Turkey, and that piece of information set in motion the chain of events leading up to Mitt's insertion into the two thousand five hundred year old culture.

She was now known as Melike, Mitt found out, and through months of mental reconditioning and outright threats against her family, she had finally broken and accepted her life as a concubine. The head of house Fahir, Gandak-al, was a man well into his 70s who needed the thrill of a much younger woman to satisfy his sexual urges. Each night after prayer Fahir would enter Melike's quarters and have his way with her.

Mitt had gained family trust through proper introductions as a man who could get things done. He was introduced as spadones, typically a non-castrated eunuch who has no generative power, an impotent person, whether by nature or by castration, but in the more formal Byzantine sense, one who pledges ultimate loyalty in protecting those assigned to him even over his own life.

Mitt had first been assigned general protection, but due to attrition (guards were often killed in street clashes) and need, he eventually got assigned to household protection, and thus was able to locate Miss Simms. Their first encounter was insignificant; it allowed Mitt only a brief opportunity to judge the state of her mental and physical condition. Mentally she appeared broken and quite demure. Physically, well, she was stunning. Dark hair, worn long like the Hollywood movie stars, large bosom, long legs, yes, she was a beauty.

It was the second encounter that was much more intense. Mitt entered her room late one evening, after she and others in the household were asleep. Standing near her, he reached down and awoken her, one hand covering her mouth lest she scream and rouse the guards. She was startled at first, but settled down quickly when she saw it was him.

Mitt spoke in whispers to her, telling her who he really was, and why he was there: to rescue her. At first she was resistant, even to the point of denying that she was Marilyn Simms. But as Mitt told her about the great lengths that people were going to rescue her, she became emotional and started to cry. Mitt held her and offered comfort. Thirty minutes later, she had minimal clothing and things packed in one sack and they were ready to go.

Mitt had been planning this for several weeks, so for the most part, it was a well-planned out escape. But nothing ever works exactly to plan. While heading down a back staircase seldom used, they ran across a guard with an upset stomach who was in the kitchen seeking relief through Alka-Seltzer. In the middle of the plop plop, fizz fizz, Mitt and Marilyn entered the kitchen. Mitt surprised the guard as much as he himself was surprised and immediately shot him in the chest with his silenced Walter PPK. However, the guard's dog was nearby and started barking loudly. Before Mitt could silence the animal he knew that other guards would respond.

“Quickly,” he told the woman, “out the back. Move fast, stay alert, be prepared to drop to the ground if I tell you.” And with that, he was pushing her out the door, shooting the two guards who were outside, their delay due to recognizing him costing them their lives.

Mitt wanted five or six hours head start, and now he had perhaps ten to fifteen minutes, perhaps less. He decided to go to Plan B.

After several minutes of fleeing down side roads, Mitt stepped out and hailed a taxi. He gave the driver a generous tip to “forget” that he was with a woman that late at night, speaking to him in guttural Turkish. The driver smiled slyly and pocketed the extra money, driving west as asked, the click-clack, click-clack, click-clack sound of the tires crossing pavement momentarily soothing Mitt's nerves. All too soon the driver was dropping him off near a large hotel in mid-town.

After the driver had departed, Mitt escorted Simms to a car that was parked on a side street. He drove across town, staying well within the speed limit. The trip took the better part of an hour, the two of them arriving at the docks.

“Here,” he told her, handing her some clothes that were on the front seat, “put these on and leave your other clothes in the car.” Simms was riding in the backseat. What he'd handed her were very plain, very ordinary looking work pants and a work shirt, along with a navy pea coat. There was also a hat that would help hide her long hair.

“Don't worry, I won't peek,” he told her, noticing that she seemed a little uncomfortable changing her clothes. He saw her smile and blush, and he looked away, waiting until she said she was done before looking again in the rear view mirror.

Boarding the vessel was easy. MI6 had arranged transport. The ship would leave within the hour. There was a minor glitch with the harbor master, but a relatively small payment in cash resolved the issue.

Mitt and Simms finally were together in a small but tastefully decorated cabin on a lower level. There was one bed in the room; Mitt told Simms to take it, that he would sleep in the chair. She slept for over 12 hours. Mitt slept quite a bit less than that, the cabin door locked and barricaded, but he still awoke at various sounds.

The next day she had quite a few questions, but he had few answers. What he did know, he told her. She cried a few times, and he let her, knowing that it would help clear her head. He also knew what would come later, perhaps tonight, perhaps the next, but that it would come.

It took a week into their two-week journey.

It started out innocently enough. There was no radio, no telly, only a few magazines, a deck of cards and some books to pass the time, along with a well-supplied liquor cabinet.

Simms started first on the scotch, first one finger, then two, three, and then moving on to brandy. By her second brandy, she no longer had an interest in the book she was reading. Instead, she listened to the sound of the water coming from the head, where her rescuer, her hero, was showering. She had started falling for him the first night, and by now, he occupied most of her thoughts.

She had already showered.

When Mitt exited the head, he saw that the room was darkened, lit by a single candle on the lone table. But she was not asleep, and Mitt thought, it begins now. He crawled into bed with her, each feeling the warmth from the other's body.
​

“Mitt! What are you still doing here, it's late, and--”

There was no more startled a woman in town that night than Patricia Crenshaw when she felt Walter Mitt's lips press up against hers in the most passionate kiss she'd ever received in her life.

At first Simms appeared hesitant, almost unwilling, which semi-puzzled Mitt, so he turned on the charm full force, kissing her with ardor that only living life on the edge can produce.​

“MITT! For God's sake man,” said Crenshaw, backing away slightly from the amorous advance of her subordinate, “what's come over you--”

Simms pulled away. “Wait, please,” she began, her bosom heaving, “what is your name?”

Mitt smile a bit smugly and replied, “My name is Mitt. Walter Mitt,” and with that, he moved his head to the closest nipple and took it into his mouth, hearing her moan with pleasure.​

“Mitt! I know your name! Jesus Chr—oh God...Oh GOD, Mitt, no...stop...OH GOD!” Crenshaw felt herself backed up against a wall as Mitt's mouth closed over one of her dress-covered nipples, his other hand cupping her other breast, fingers pinching down on the hardened point. These were her erogenous zones, her hot spots. Nipple play by itself could bring her to orgasm, especially when it was someone else doing the playing.

Mitt pulled aside her undergarments, and then maneuvered himself on top of and between her legs. Cupping her sex, he felt plenty of wetness. Positioning himself, he entered her, a short thrust to start, then hearing her moan, followed up with a long slide forward to the hilt, the rocking of the boat assisting him.​

Crenshaw found herself lifted up onto a desk, one arm wrapped around Mitt's head to keep his mouth on her tits, the other steadying her from ending up completely prone. Mitt had hiked up her dress and then she felt her panties being ripped. A brief second later, something hard and hot pressed up against her pussy. Wait, she thought, you're too big just to shove—but that's what Mitt did, driving all eight inches of his thick cock into his boss' pussy, hearing her cry out in mild distress as she orgasmed from sheer erotic surprise.

Simms felt a stirring between her legs, different than a tickle, a growing sensation as she felt the repeated thrusts from Mitt, one hand still toying with her breast, the other holding her head up so they could kiss. The sensation soon burst forth into a climax, the first she'd ever experienced, her body's explosion causing her to shiver and clench, giving Mitt just reason to shoot his seed deep within her.​

Mitt withdrew and thrust, withdrew and thrust, each time burying his dick fully within his boss' tight, wet pussy. Listening to her cries of ecstasy, he thrust faster until he felt the cum shoot out, shot after shot, further lubricating her taut passage.

“My God, Mitt...what just happened?” asked Simms, flustered and even slightly embarrassed at her body's response to the furious coupling.​

“My God, Mitt...what just happened?” asked Crenshaw, flustered and even slightly embarrassed at her body's response to the furious coupling.

Mitt blinked a few times, trying to sort out what was going on. He saw some bright flashes, called out “Marilyn?” and then “Miss Crenshaw?”, then everything went black.

A month later...

Overlooking Chestnuts Park in north London, St. Ann's Hospital was largely out of public view. Not a large facility, it mostly provided mental health care, but by special agreement, one section of it was utilized by certain branches of her Majesty's government when needed. Mitt was in one of the private rooms, still in a coma, with nurses checking on him twice an hour, though the machines too kept a watchful eye. The diagnosis was that he suffered some type of brain injury, and the prognosis was that he might never recover. Ms. Simms was safe and sound, and although she visited Mitt twice each week, there were no signs that he knew she was there. She was still puzzled that the last thing he said was some other woman's name, a Miss Crenshaw. She had people look into it, but no one had a clue, not even MI6. Still, she had hope.

Overlooking Central Park in mid-town Manhattan, Mt. Sinai Hospital had state-of-the-art facilities. Most recently Dr. Arthur Grishman had received the first medical data, a cardiogram, transmitted over telephone lines. None of this mattered, however, to Patricia Crenshaw, who was sitting in a private room, staring at the body of Walter Mitt. Hooked up to several pieces of equipment, he hadn't stirred in a month, and she was starting to truly lose hope that he would recover. It was a brain aneurysm according to the doctors. The surgery was successful, but, he still had not awoken. Crenshaw was still puzzled over his calling out of “Marilyn?” before he passed out on top of her, still erect. She looked into his family records, neighbors, his past...nothing. Still, she had hope.

Mitt smiled as he watched, seeing her look at him resting peacefully. Looking out the window, he could see the park, and heard birds off in the distance. The time was right, he thought. And with that, he closed his eyes, still smiling, and felt a warmth rush over him as his spirit rose, not hearing the alarm bells going off within the room, or the wail of the woman inside. Only the click-clack, click-clack, click-clack of locks and deadbolts on a pearly gate being opened.

 

Crime and Punishment

This is my second CAW 17 entry, Crime and Punishment.

-------------------------

Crime and Punishment


Preface (Present Day):

It was the strong scent of lemon pepper that first assaulted my olfactory organs, causing a quick pang of hunger to grip my mid-section. Were I a dog I suspect drooling would soon follow.

As I opened my eyes I could see that the feast was worthy of this special meal. My lack of concern for the rising cholesterol problem in America was evident in the three breadcrumb-encrusted, fried pork chops as well as in the side dishes, which included au gratin potatoes and broccoli with cheese sauce. Dessert was New York-style cheesecake, simple, yet elegant. Two glasses of milk, whole milk to be sure, sat in plastic cups. The plasticware was seated on top of a cloth napkin, which in turn was resting on top of a pure white linen tablecloth. Almost perfect. I opened the small cardboard box and inside was a container that I immediately recognized as from the warden's wife Sondra; homemade applesauce to compliment the pork chops. Now it was perfect.

I looked up at the man who delivered the feast and, catching his eye, nodded. Then I focused to his right on the man in the suit and tie. His look was that rare combination of pensive resignation and mild amusement. I silently mouthed "thank you" to him. He nodded, looked at me for a few more seconds, then turned and left, followed by the server.

Starting with the first chop, I cut carefully yet determinedly, and fell into reflection yet once again on how I ended up at this stage of my life, sitting in solitary confinement on death row at a maximum security prison, just hours away from my inevitable execution, wearing the bright orange uniform of an Attica prison convict.

Chapter One (1985):

"Fight or flight is a rather common behavioral trait among most animals. More aggressive species and/or more aggressive specimens within species tend toward fight, while less aggressive are more inclined toward flight. Humans commonly prefer flight, but by no means aren't capable of fight, and it is this very diversity that make humans the most heterogeneous species on the planet."

As the Director of Graduate Studies, Department of Sociology at Columbia University, it wasn't often that I got to speak to first year students. But each year, I would make an appearance at one of the large, auditorium-based classes, shock the graduate student cum instructor, and spend the better part of an hour imparting some of my decades of experience on the young minds, trying not to sound preachy or pontificating.

A young man about halfway up raised his hand, the smirk on his face indicative of his upcoming attempt at some form of wit at my expense.

I nodded at him.

"Professor, aren't you being politically incorrect by calling humans hetero when its so obvious that many are openly gay, or, are you of the "don't ask, don't tell" caveman mentality?"

There was an immediate rise in the murmuring, a few chuckles, and even a few "oh shits", but the one I liked best was "watch this", obviously not a freshman but someone who had attended one of my previous lectures.

"Mister...?" I inquired of him.

"Jarden."

"Ah yes, Mr. Jarden. Thank you for your helpful insight into human relations. You would be stunningly correct in that humans are most certainly not 'hetero'," and I noted with glee that Jarden's chest was puffing up immodestly, "except that I stated that humans are 'heterogeneous', which means diverse in character or content." There were a few "Oh, snaps" but I was by no means finished. "Now judging by your apparel," as people in the audience took in his high school varsity-lettered jacket, "you may be spending too much time smashing heads and not enough time enriching yours. I would suggest that you seek the help of the beautiful young lady next to you whom you came in with," the girl's eyes peeking up at me from her smartphone, "but from the way she is sitting, her posture, and the eye-roll that she gave when you imparted such wisdom upon all of us, I suspect that your desire to advance your booty call meter with her will be met with a less than desirable response." Time for the final blow amidst the scattered howls of laughter. "Or perhaps you were simply too enamored with your last test score of 18, not 18 out of 20, Mr. Jarden, but 18 out of 100, the lowest test score in the history of this department. I believe," as I started to clap, "a round of applause is due to Mr. Jarden."

The room erupted into thunderous applause and whistles. Mr. Jarden no longer had a smile upon his face, and had sunk a few inches down into his seat. The girl seated next to him was now the one sporting the smirk, and had her eyes locked onto me.

Later that afternoon there was a knock on my office door.

"Come in," I spoke loudly.

The door opened and it was the girl from the morning lecture, the one who was seated next Mr. Unfortunate.

"Ah, how many I help you...?" I left it lingering, looking for a name.

"It's Lisa, professor. I wanted to stop in and let you know that I don't have affiliation any longer with Michael other than we share rides," she saw the puzzled look on my face, "Michael Jarden," and when the puzzled look disappeared, she smiled and continued. "Anyway, I really enjoyed your lecture and wondered if you'd have some time this evening that I could stop by and discuss a few things with you."

I took a closer look at Lisa. She was a willowy brunette with remarkably green eyes, long hair that just hinted at a preference for curl, and a style of dress that belied her status as a student.

"I'm busy until 10pm."

"10pm is fine, I'll be studying in the library until then. Thank you, Professor." And with that, she was gone.

By all means, mused the spider to the fly, come right in.


Chapter Two (1986):

My attorney, Ed Hayes, seemed a bit nervous. Perhaps it was his upcoming marriage next month to Susie Gilder, or maybe it was something to do with another case, but I was sure he wasn't concerned with my case. Purely a classic case of self-defense, purely, we argued. I myself spent time on the stand, and then there were all of the character witnesses from Columbia and other prestigious schools.

We had a few minutes to wait, and a messenger came up to Ed and handed him a note. Ed read it and a smile appeared on his face. He looked over at me.

"Tommy is dedicating his new book to me," he said proudly. "It's called The Bonfire of the Vanities."

He was referring to Tom Wolfe, a close friend of his. Ed knew people. He was friends with Tom, with Andy Warhol, some of the other A-list people in the city. I was supremely confident that when I hired Ed, he'd live up to his slogan of "I can get ya' outta' anything."

There was an undertone of anticipation as the jury entered the courtroom and took their seats. About a minute later the bailiff announced the judge and everyone stood and waited until he took his seat.

Another minute went by as the judge shuffled some paperwork. I took this time to look at the jury. None of them would meet my eye except for the oldest one, a kindly older lady with near white hair and small, round glasses. She smiled at me, and that helped quell some fears that started to surface.

"We got this," I said to Hayes, who was re-reading the note.

"Mr. Foreman, has the jury reached a verdict?" asked the judge a bit wearily it seemed.

A short, burly man who looked more suited for a Cecil B. DeMille blockbuster than a jury foreman stood up.

"Yeah, Judge, we did," he said, his thick, Brooklyn accent easily heard throughout the courtroom.

The foreman handed a slip of paper to the bailiff who delivered it to the judge. He looked at it and then, with a slight raise of his eyebrow, handed it back to the bailiff who reversed the process.

"On the count of involuntary manslaughter, we, da' members of da' jury, herewith find the defendant, Joseph Kellerman, guilty."

The crowd was stunned for a moment, and during that brief silence, the loudest sound was my huge intake of breath.

"On the count of reckless endangerment, we, da' members of da' jury, herewith find the defendant, Joseph Kellerman, guilty."

Now the courtroom erupted with noise, and while the judge was pounding his gavel, trying to restore order, I sat in stunned silence.

"Joey," said my lawyer, leaning in close, too close, the smell of Listerine rolling across my face, "don't worry, we can appeal, but they're gonna' take you back now, unless..."

I looked up at him. "Unless what?"

"Well, this Judge, he knows me and he likes me. It is possible that being that you're a famous Professor, the first time you've ever done anything wrong, et cetera, that he'll give you a suspended sentence, and maybe just house arrest. But you'd have to waive your rights to a sentence hearing and have him rule on your sentence right now. I think it is the best option because if he suspends the sentence, you don't go back to jail and wait for a hearing."

My mind was a blur; I was numb and in no position to make decisions, so I just went along with what Ed said.

The next ten minutes saw both attorneys standing up in front of the judge, both animatedly debating the merits of what they felt would be fair sentencing. Finally, the small conference broke up and both attorneys returned to their respective seats.

I looked over at Ed but he wouldn't meet my eyes.

"Mr. Kellerman?" said the Judge.

Both I and Ed arose and buttoned our suit jackets.

"Yes, your honor?"

"The crimes of which you were convicted are serious, and could have been avoided. If you exhibited better control over your...urges...a student would not be dead and you would not be here in my courtroom. If you had not been in possession of an unregistered handgun, again, a death would not have occurred. Now, I am aware of your standing in our community, your commitment to the educational system, your years of philanthropy, and that you have never been in trouble with the law before. I am taking all of this into account, and because of this, I am being lenient on you."

I breathed a sigh of relief, and, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Michael Jarden sitting in the crowd, handcuffed, a material witness. A small smile of relief flashed across my face before I looked back up at the judge, who had apparently been staring at me.

His brow furrowed a bit, as if he were making a decision. Sitting up straighter, the Judge took on a more formal tone.

"It is the decision of this court that you, Joseph Kellerman, will serve 36 months in prison." The Judge then banged his gavel, then left the courtroom as it once again erupted into chaos.

I looked back at Jarden, and there was that smirk again.

As the security personnel once again bound my hands in cuffs, I thought back to that fateful night, and how my life changed.


Chapter Three (1985):

The knock on the door came promptly at 10pm. I was curious to see how this would play out. I really wasn't sure what Lisa's game was, but I was sure that she had an agenda. Every student did. Typically it had to do with getting a better grade, but if she wanted that, she should have made goo-goo eyes at the student teacher, not me.

"Come in."

Lisa entered and the first thing I noticed was the dress. Short, above her knee, not too slutty, but certainly not studying attire. The heels weren't the classic "fuck me" pumps, but again, right on the edge.

"Not exactly studying attire." I didn't want to make this easy for her, whatever 'it' was.

"I know," she said, her eyes slightly down, her manner demure.

"So what can I do for you, Lisa?"

"Well, Professor, oh gosh, I'm so nervous. You see, I know about your upcoming trip this summer, where you will be going to Russia and Eastern Europe to lecture and I'd like to be considered as part of your group."

I was momentarily stunned. The trip wasn't that well-publicized, so for her to know it meant that she had done some research. This wasn't all what I was anticipating.

"Lisa, that trip has been scheduled for a while and the only people going are a few graduate students. You simply aren't, well, qualified."

"I know, Professor, but this is something that I really want, and, there's always grunt work on trips and I'm a hard worker and I'll do anything you need, no questions asked. I'm good with organization...." My ears stopped listening at 'do anything you need' and my brain started engaging.

"Lisa," I interrupted, "Lisa...why did you wear that dress tonight?"

I could see that I just knocked her off her game. She began to blush.

"Um, well, um, I just, um, wanted to look nice. For you."

The stirring began. The monster, awakening.

"Why?"

She was now blushing profusely.

"Tell me. Now."

"I...I wanted to look nice for you. Because I like you." She was looking at the floor again.

I thought about this for a moment.

"And if you were to travel with me, to Russia, to Europe...?"

She looked up once again, and met my eyes, just for a moment, just enough time for her to say, quietly, "I'll do anything you say."

The monster was wide awake now.

"Come here. Stand in front of me."

She slowly moved toward me and stopped about two feet away. I was sitting, she was standing.

"Raise up your dress."

She hesitated, then took hold of her dress and slowly raised it up. Not enough.

"Higher."

She swallowed, and then raised it higher. Finally...bush.

I reached forward and touched her, finding wetness and eliciting an intake of breath from her. She was turned on!

I removed my fingers from her body and brought them to my nose, inhaling her scent. Musky, yet fresh, clean...intoxicating.

"Get on your knees."

She did so, carefully, and stared at the floor.

Finally, after no sound from me, she slowly looked up. Our eyes met, and I nodded slightly at her.

Slowly, she brought her hands up and carefully, cautiously, began unbuckling my belt and then unzipping me, calling forth the monster.

Reaching her fingers inside, she found my cock and brought it out into the open. Then she let go and leaned back just a bit.

"Oh...Oh!" she breathed and just stared at the monster.

My cock was freakishly large. Not the biggest in the world, like John Holmes, but it was eight and three-quarter inches in length, and almost six inches around. Damn big. A monster.

"Lick it, Lisa. Then take it in your mouth and suck it."

She blushed a bit again, or maybe it was just arousal that was causing her face to warm.

As it involuntarily bobbed back and forth a bit, she seemed a bit mesmerized, almost like how the cobra weaves to and fro before its deadly strike.

Then she leaned forward slowly and opened her mouth, her tongue snaking out to lick the shaft. Lick. Then to the other side. Lick.

The ovality of her mouth was enticing as it covered first the head. Much to my surprise, her eyes opened, and she looked up at me, meeting my gaze. She continued descending downward, engulfing more of the shaft, then stopping as she reach her capacity. She had perhaps two-thirds of it in her mouth and held it there, her tongue bathing the underside with warm saliva, while her eyes continued their lock onto mine.

Her lips tightened, and she sucked inward as they rose along the shaft, pausing when only the head was still enclosed. Then a release of the pressure from her lips, and a faster downward drop, again engulfing the shaft, followed by another ascent with the same increased lip pressure.

This was no fellatio dilettante but rather a connoisseur of the art, her proposed innocence adding to the effect. Where many women assume that their mouth's presence is enough of a stimulant to satisfy their target, this one obviously had instruction on how to turn hers into a milking machine, destined to draw the semen from within me.

I reached down and took grasp of her long hair, not for the purpose of holding her in place as a receptacle for my momentarily imminent discharge, for someone this skillful would revel in the final outcome, but for the sheer pleasure of holding such a mane.

Her eyes never left mine, her methodical milking was mechanical, but not impersonal as her tongue would dance the rhumba up and down the length of my cock.

I felt that all-too familiar sensation in my balls, and knew that this erotic masterpiece would soon reach its climax.

The fly noticed it too, her eyes changing, almost as if they could smile with satisfaction. As I felt the end approach, I started to close my eyes but was then gifted with another surprise. She did not stop on the downswing at a mere two-thirds of my cock but instead tilting her head slightly and then swallowed, not stopping until her lips were pressed up against my abdomen.

She had saved the best for last, the head of my cock now lodged in her throat. She was swallowing, causing her throat muscles to provide an exquisite repetitive massage of the dome while her tongue was slipping out and licking at my balls.

God himself would have struggled to hold out at this point, hoping to savor the feeling. A mere mortal, I groaned aloud and emptied the contents of my balls, and quite possibly every drop of semen present anywhere within my reproductive system, into this femme fatale's throat, bypassing her mouth, and onward down into her stomach. Again and again I spasmed, my very soul at risk of being sucked from my body.

It was then that my life inexorably changed, as the door swung open and there stood Michael Jarden, no longer sneering, but with the mixed murderous look of betrayal and revenge etched across his face, and a knife in hand.


Chapter Four:

There were some shuffling sounds coming from the hallway as several people peered into the room, shocked at first by the sound of a single gunshot, then secondarily taken aback at the scene within: a young man kneeling over a girl, holding a bloody knife in his hand, the girl on the floor in an expanding pool of blood, and me, standing literally with a smoking gun in my hand, my genitals exposed, my shirt bloody.

"She's dead. You...you killed her," said Jarden, looking up at me, and then the growing crowd. I was speechless.

A moment or so later, campus security arrived, two young men thoroughly unprepared for the scene that greeted them. Pulling their revolvers, they stammeringly ordered both of us inside the room to drop our weapons. Jarden carefully laid his down on the ground. I was stunned by the recent turn of events and looked blankly at them, finally complying after the third demand, my revolver clattering loudly on the linoleum floor.

Both Jarden and I were then cuffed and seated, one guard checking checking Lisa for a pulse while the other contacted a supervisor via his walkie-talkie, requesting back-up, ambulances, and quite possibly the National Guard for all I paid attention.

My attention was on Lisa, whose life had been snuffed out by a single errant shot. Just moments ago, after Jarden caught Lisa and I flagrante delicto, he cried out "You cheating bitch!" and moved into the room, raising his knife, preparing to strike.

As Lisa released the still impressive length of my half-flaccid penis from her mouth and drew her hands up to her mouth in an expression of horror at being caught (and, perhaps, to dab a bit of misbehaving semen attempting to escape her lips), I bound out of the chair, arms wide, "take it easy, young man".

Jarden swung out wildly at me with the knife, penetrating through my button-down light blue Oxford dress shirt and an inch or so into the soft, fleshy area just south of my rib cage. Crying out sharply, I fell back against a filing cabinet, clutching my abdomen, then awkwardly opening one cabinet drawer in search of help.

Lisa had arisen and was ready to flee the scene when Jarden spun around and saw her. He moved quickly and pinned her up against another file cabinet, his face mere inches from hers, speaking quietly as he brought the knife up to the center of her chest.

"You disappointed me, you fucking slut!" and with that, he thrust the knife into her, its narrow blade piercing her flesh and entering the heart. In a single second, I saw the light of life leave her as her eyes became glassy and lifeless.

Finding my revolver, I pulled it out and aimed it toward him. Perhaps for the first time in my life, brought on perhaps by the emotional rush of the situation, used the incorrect gender form of a word, screaming out "You bitch!" while aiming the gun at Jarden's back and pulling the trigger.

Jarden spun away to prepare for an attack by me, and in that split second of moving, saved his own life as the bullet shot forth from my handgun (unregistered, unfortunately), narrowly missing him, and instead penetrating Lisa's lifeless body near the same opening created by his knife. As Lisa slumped to the floor, Jarden crouched down over her, and it was then that somewhere in the recesses of my mind I registered voices and faces nearby.

No alarm bells went off in my head as I answered questions asked by the police when they arrived a short while later. It's quite possible I was still in shock of what happened, I simply don't know. I do know that I recounted the events of the night with startling detail, except that Jarden's story and mine did not match up. He claimed that I became belligerent when he entered the office, that a struggle ensued, that I tried to stab him but instead I got cut, and then when Lisa tried to defend him, I yelled out at her and then shot her in cold blood.

That matched the audio of what people heard in the neighboring office, my "You bitch!" doing nothing to help my cause. There were inconsistencies in both of our stories, it seemed, and so the District Attorney's office decided to prosecute both of us. For Jarden they charged him with negligence leading to death. For me, the charge was involuntary manslaughter, since there was an absence of pronounced malice toward the girl, and a second charge of reckless endangerment, which was pared down by plea bargain from illegal possession of a firearm used in the commission of a felony.

Chapter Five:

Spending a couple of years in prison for killing someone who was already dead would have been almost unbearable except for what some would deem divine intervention.

A few months into my term I was told that I had a visitor. I was skeptical of the nature of the visit since no one but nosy reporters bothered to come by, but, a visit was something to break up the boredom. At Sing Sing Correctional Facility, boredom ranked right up there with fearing for your life as a daily condition.

Nothing, however, prepared me for this visit.

It was Lisa!

I just stood there with my mouth open. She waved me over.

"You look pale. Before you pass out, I'm not Lisa, I'm Michelle, her twin sister," said the splitting image of Lisa seated in front of me.

I gathered what remained of my composure and sat down.

"I was away at college for the trial, which is why you never saw me there, but I'm on break now and wanted to meet you. For what it is worth, I've looked at all of the information, and, I believe you."

I sat there silently for a moment. "You do."

She nodded.

"Why?"

"Not because I know you or have any special insight into you, but because Lisa told me what a douche bag Michael Jarden was. She was sorry," and she paused for a second, swallowing, "sorry that she ever hung out with the guy. I never knew what she saw in him."

"So why are you here?"

She flushed slightly, and that brought back some memories.

"I felt that you got a raw deal, and while I can't really help, I thought I could at least tell you that someone believed you."

I studied her for a little longer.

"Is that the only reason why you are here?"

"Pretty much so."

"Okay then, I guess we're done," I said, starting to get up as I felt awkward as hell around her.

"Wait," she said, "there is one more thing."

I sat back down.

"Lisa mentioned you once, a few weeks before, well, you know," I nodded. "She said that she had run across some essays that you had written and that it changed her perspective on the world. She said that she was going to be a sociology major, and that she hoped someday to have you as an instructor."

"Proverbs, Take Two."

"Yes, yes, that was it. You know, I'm not even sure I know what sociology is. Could you...enlighten me?"

She seemed actually interested, not patronizing, so I gave her the pat answer.

"Sociology is the study of relationships among people through the exploration of human activity: politics, technologies, economies, cities, culture, media, religion and more. We seek scientific answers to human questions such as inequality and social injustice, but we don't focus on the individual components like economic issues or political discord but rather we embed them within the complex whole of the social world. We are a global community, homogeneous yet different, and a sociologist's job is to unravel the mysteries for the benefit of all."

I stopped and could see that she was drinking this brain milk in much like a baby sought mama's milk.

"That's, well, that's incredible. I thought it was sorta' like philosophy..." she started, but I cut her off.

"Those who can, become sociologists. Those who can't, become philosophy majors."

We both smiled.


Chapter Six:

In the months to come, Michelle visited nearly every week, and on the weeks that she couldn't make it, I found myself longing.

The terrible part was that I knew she was going to be leaving soon, going back to school in Rhode Island, and that our visits would come to an end.

We would spend the vast majority of visits discussing sociology topics. Michelle would pick a topic, conduct some research during the week, and then during our visit she would take a stance on an issue. I would probe her with questions, find faults in her position, and exploit them. Many a time I would see the frustration of defeat arise within her, but as these discussions progressed, she would come better armed with research and documentation. It was most exhilarating to debate issues of social impact while four feet away two people were discussing better ways to sneak drugs into the facility.

It was a hot day in August when she addressed her departure to the Ivy League school. Our visit was coming to an end, and we'd had a particularly good talk on the human condition of overcrowding in cities.

"I can't believe the summer has flown by and that I start school up again in less than a week."

There seemed to be a sparkle in her eyes, and I surmised that there was a special boy that would be waiting for her back at school. She was wearing a short skirt and her tanned legs looked really, really nice.

"Well, it'll be good for you to get back to Brown, it's a good school, and you need to be interacting with kids your own age vs. old fogies like me," I said, perhaps a little more briskly than I really felt. I could see a small smile trying to form on her face and I was finding it more than mildly annoying.

"I'm not going back to Brown. I just don't think it's a good fit for," and I cut her off with a sharp reply.

"Stop right there, Michelle! You cannot give up on Brown or your education. It's a fine school with top-rate instructors and..." I saw her openly smile now and that broke the dam. "What the hell is wrong with you? You think it is funny that you are giving up your educational goals..." It was her turn to cut me off.

"Professor Kellerman, I didn't say I was giving up college. I said I wasn't going back to Brown. I transferred to another school. You might know it. Columbia?"

I sat back in my chair.

"You weren't looking forward to me going back to Brown, were you, Professor?"

"Not particularly."

"Me neither. I realized that I no longer want to become some inane business manager. I'm switching my major to sociology, and, I'm going to be here for the next couple of years at least, perhaps longer. And, I really like you." She blushed a bit at that, and I noticed that her nipples were slightly poking through her thin blouse. The monster stirred.

I heard the 2-minute warning bell go off, signifying the end of this get-together.

"Professor," she started.

"It's Joe. Or Joseph. I'm no longer a professor."

"Okay, Joe. Do you know what next week is?"

I thought for a moment, but nothing came to mind. I shook my head.

"It's your six month anniversary," she said, rising out of her chair in preparation to depart, "and I made an appointment for us. You know..." and then she lifted her short dress a bit, showing me that she was not wearing panties, "...conjugal." She said that last word as a stage whisper, and dropped her dress, smiled, then turned and left.

The monster was now fully awake.


Chapter Seven (1989):

Michelle and I continued our weekly visits over the next couple of years. Conjugal visits were limited to once-per-month, so those times were very treasured. Other visits were spent discussing her classwork, or current events. For a young woman she was incredibly bright. I'm not exactly sure when we fell in-love, but it happened over the span of time when she was in college. Occasionally when I was sitting in my cell at night, I would think back to our first "adult" visit.

I got the notification about 12:30 and our visit would start at 1pm and run until 4pm. The guard, his name was Mike, told me to get cleaned up, and winked. Mike was a decent enough fellow, as far as guards went.

I washed up well using soap and my small sink. Then I put on my remaining fresh prison garb and impatiently awaited my escort. Mike showed up about 12:55 and we walked over to the Family Room. Michelle was sitting there, looking nervous, wearing a more conservative dress than the previous week.

We were given the lecture by one of the guards on the rules, and then we were whisked off to a fairly non-descript cement block room with a medium-sized bed, two chairs and not much else. There were a couple of condoms on a small table by the bed.

When the door closed, Michelle walked over to the bed slowly and sat down. She looked up at me, disappointment scrawled across her face. This wasn't going to be good news.

"I'm so sorry...I got my period." She was practically in tears.

The monster, who had smacked a line drive to the deepest part of the park earlier on the walk over, and was rounding third when the door closed, tripped and fell, landing five feet short of home plate.

Take the high road.

"It's okay, Michelle, really," I started, and as I did, I saw her face transform from one of sadness to one of amusement.

"Kidding!" she exclaimed, and flipped up her dress, showing me again that she wasn't wearing panties.

The monster stood up, dusted himself off, faced the burly catcher who was smiling while holding the ball and standing on home plate, and then punched him square in the face, knocking him the fuck out!

As I smiled and moved toward her, she bounded off the bed with the enthusiasm of youth and launched herself into my arms. Our kissing was hot and frantic, tongues not performing any ballet but more of a manic salsa while our clothes were shed haphazardly.

Then Michelle pulled back a fraction, looked me in the eye, and said with a twinkle in hers, "Look, it has obviously been a while for you. We have a few hours. Let me do something and then you won't pop so quickly the second time." And with that she descended down to her knees as I began my ascension toward heaven.


Chapter Eight (Present Day):

Of all the food present, it was the applesauce that made the most impact. I had asked for applesauce to accompany the pork, and didn't think that I would be blessed with fresh, homemade applesauce. The warden's wife was an excellent cook, not just judging by the size of the warden himself, but by my firsthand tasting of her creations.

Slightly more progressive than some of the other ruthless bastards who ran this hellhole, Warden Bullock would reward good behavior in a variety of ways, including bringing in home cooked food periodically and inviting "model" prisoners to dine with him. Armed guards present and attentive, of course; this warden wasn't a fool.

One of the guards assigned to keep tabs on me caught my eye and spoke quietly.

"Two hours." He continued on, leaving me to my privacy, his starched uniform looking more painful to wear than my orange garb was gaudy. Almost more painful.

Funny how time meant mostly nothing in prison. The monotony of daily life was maddening. Hours turned into days turned into weeks, months and finally years. There was only the visits that would break up the colorless uniformity of the routine. Weekly visits from Michelle were the light of my life, the only thing that kept my sanity intact.

I thought back wistfully to how my visits from Michelle came to a sudden end.

It was a warm Spring day. Flowers must have been in bloom as rich scents permeated even these dreadful walls. Cellblock A & C were out in the yard, getting in an hour of exercise and sunshine. I myself typically spent this time alone, or sometimes I would play a game of chess with one of the older inmates.

That fateful day I was sitting with one of the older fellows, musing about baseball players he remembered as a child when I saw what I first thought was an illusion. It simply couldn't be...Jarden!

He was walking toward me, slowly, deliberately, his face void of expression. He looked...older, weather-beaten.

But this was impossible. The penal system didn't allow for people involved in the same crime to be housed together in the same prison. That's one reason there were many prisons vs. just a few. Somehow, the system had broken down.

I stood up. I didn't think for a minute that this was going to be a pleasant exchange. I didn't carry a weapon, but years of studying martial arts would hopefully help me defend myself from life-threatening injury as I was convinced that Jarden would be carrying.

He stopped about ten feet in front of me, his eyes fixed on mine. He held my gaze without comment for at least thirty seconds. A stare down? That was the best that he could bring? I held his gaze, not blinking, not wanting to give him the upper hand.

"You have two months to go," he said, his voice unemotional, detached. Something had happened. I suspected that some of bigger inmates had turned him into their bitch. He was a good looking young man. Now he looked older. Hardened. I didn't respond to his statement.

"I'm out of here in two days," he continued in a calm and even voice, "and the first thing I'm going to do is go visit that slut Michelle and fuck her like the cunt has never been fucked before."

And with that, the smirk returned, bigger and more enraging than ever before.

He turned and started to walk away, laughing out loud, more like a maniacal cackle.

Through my study of Eastern culture, along with the martial arts, I learned that each person had a pool of chi, an inner circulating life force, within them.

My chi went nuclear.

I don't have a recollection of what took place next, just firsthand accounts from those who witnessed the monstrous attack. During my subsequent hearing, I heard multiple accounts of how I launched myself off the bleachers at him and in a whirlwind of blows and slashes, tore his throat open, removed his eyes, and most grisly of all, ripped his genitals off and then stuffed them into his mouth. Many said it was the most obscene display of berserk rage ever witnessed.

I was deemed too dangerous to be left in the genpop, the general prison population, so I was placed in solitary confinement. For 23 hours per day, I was alone in my 8 foot by 11 foot cell. There was no communication between me and other inmates. The only other humans I saw were the guards, and these were very tough, war-hardened types.

Time passed excruciatingly slowly for me. I did get mail once per week, and there was always a letter in there from Michelle. She understood what happened and why I did what I did, but there was no hope in her letters. She said she enclosed photos but they were not given to me. I wrote to her and told her, and she tried one time to use a computer scanner to put her image on the paper, printing it out on a laser printer, something new I guessed, but it was censored by prison officials and cut from the paper.

In her senior year, Michelle started dating a grad student. She didn't want to tell me at first, nor did she really want to discuss him, but I firmly told her that she needed to move on, that I was not going to get out of prison, and most likely would be executed for my crime. She said he was going to become a doctor, and that he looked like me when I was younger, though he dressed in scrubs, not Aberdeen suits.

We didn't talk of sociology much, and I suspected that her interest in it had waned, similar to her interest in me. Her letters became less frequent, once or twice a month, and far less personal.

It was two years later that she told me that they were getting married. I was now out of solitary confinement, but, still in a segregated section of the prison, away from genpop. Now allowed to receive mail and photos and other trinkets, I asked her for a photo from her wedding, and she complied. She looked...lovely.

I was, in fact, sentenced to die for my cruel and barbaric slaying of a fellow inmate. I figured that I had that coming to me. I did see a picture that a guard took of Jarden after my melee attack on him. I was both mortified and satisfied.

"One hour," said the guard, passing by again. What was left of my food was cold, the half glass of milk remaining now warm. I wiped my face one last time with the napkin and then went to my bunk and lay down, trying to relax.

The next time I saw Michelle was three years after her wedding. I rarely got any visitors, family long having given up on me, so when I was told there was a visitor, I had no clue whom it would be. My face broke into an uncharacteristic broad smile when I saw her, and then an even bigger smile when I saw that she was at least six months pregnant. We hugged and got warned for that behavior. I was a model prisoner once again, never causing any trouble with the guards, and even helping the new warden out by speaking with his daughter who was interested in sociology, but still, rules were rules.

"I never expected to see you again," I began, still marveling at how mature and beautiful she looked, pangs of desire gurgling within but well-controlled, "and look at you, a baby on the way, how wonderful!"

"Thank you, Joe," she beamed, and sat down.

"More beautiful than ever, too. Do you know if it will be a boy or a girl?"

"We're having a baby boy, Joe, but, listen, I have something important to tell you."

My smile started to recede a little bit. "Sure, sure Michelle, what is it?"

"Well, as you suspected, I didn't exactly continue along in a sociological career path," and I nodded as she spoke, "but I did continue on with my schooling. Joe, I passed the bar exam, I'm now a lawyer."

"Really? That's great, Michelle. Are you going to specialize in corporate law, or go work for the District Attorney's office or--" and with that, I was cut off.

"Criminal defense, Joe. Specializing in death penalty cases. I've been hired by the American Civil Liberties Union. I'm working on your case. Joe...I'm your lawyer."

She had that rare kind of beauty, not like a tanned, skinny model with lots of make-up, but a natural, classic look with a sprinkling of freckles that softened her determination.

"I don't know what to say, Michelle."

"Say 'You're hired, Michelle!' to start." She smiled now.

I knew that the ACLU didn't charge, so I wasn't concerned about that, since I had no money to pay for a defense lawyer.

"You're hired, Michelle." And I smiled.

The sound of approaching steps pulled me from my reverie. Had an hour passed by that quickly? Time never meant anything in prison, except when you were sitting on death row, awaiting the hangman.

The warden and two guards rounded the corner.

"Joe," began the warden, "there's been a development. I'm not sure how she did it, but, she got the Court of Appeals to stay your execution. They're apparently willing to look at new evidence, DNA testing or something like that."

I exhaled and closed my eyes, silently thanking Michelle.


Chapter Nine:

Typically appeals court hearings don't draw that much interest from the press or from people in general, but in my case, it was just the opposite. DNA had become a hot topic of discussion and this was going to potentially be a landmark case.

Due to her lack of experience, the ACLU had planned on bringing in some of their more experienced lawyers, but I nixed that idea, telling them that Michelle got us this far, that she had my full confidence.

The hearing (it wasn't a trial, rather, just a hearing where both sides got to show evidence and call witnesses) took the better part of three weeks. We brought in science experts who re-examined the knife and found traces of Lisa's DNA on the hilt. Other experts were able to, using the official photographs and something called 3-D modeling, reconstruct how the knife went in first and pierced the heart, killing the girl before the bullet entered her body. Finally, a prison guard stepped forward and testified that Jarden, on the same day that I killed him, told the guard that he had stabbed one girl to death.

Being cleared of Lisa's death was just the first step. The second step was convincing the Governor to grant clemency. Surprisingly, that was relatively easy, made so by the widespread public cry for justice for someone wrongly imprisoned. The argument was that I would not have killed Jarden if I had not been wrongly imprisoned in the first place.

The Governor signed my release papers on December 19th. I had been incarcerated for nearly 8 years. When I was released, I was given an amount of money from the General Fund that was set aside for wrongful imprisonments. I had to sign paperwork stating that I would not reveal the amount that I received nor any other details. It didn't make me rich, but, it was eight years worth of salary and interest, so I had enough to get a place to stay and not be homeless.

Michelle and her husband both invited me over for Christmas dinner. He was a stand-up guy, a pediatric physician, and while there, Michelle told me that they were having a second child. It was a very nice dinner. I was asked what I planned to do, and I said that I really didn't have a clue. I told them that I did get an offer from Columbia to lecture periodically as a "professor emeritus" and that I was considering that, plus other offers.

I told Michelle that she, in a sense, had saved my life, and that I owed her everything. She countered by saying that it was I who gave her life direction, that without meeting me, she would never have become a lawyer, met her husband, and generally had the good life that she was now enjoying. We hugged and promised to stay in touch.


Epilogue:

The following Fall found me back at Columbia, not on a full-time basis as I both didn't need the money nor wanted a daily grind, but rather as an adjunct professor. This suited me just fine as I didn't have to worry about in-school politics, research requirements, and the like. All I needed to do was show up and teach kids, which is what I enjoyed.

It was the end of October, the 31st in fact, when I got a knock on the door to my office. I looked at the clock and saw that it was near 10pm. Ironically, I was just settling in for an hour's worth of reading of Dostoevsky.

"Come in."

The door opened an in walked a girl dressed in black, obviously either coming from or going to a Halloween party, considering the black, overly done mascara and other make-up.

"You asked me to stop by, Professor?" the girl said quietly.

I started racking my brain. Did I set up an appointment and forgot about it? I knew that time in prison had caused me to lose brain cells, but I was typically good about writing down appointments.

"Tricia...Stone?"

Now I remembered.

"Yes, yes, of course, Tricia...come in, sit down." In the large auditorium I hardly remembered her. She sat toward the back, didn't participate in class, and was rapidly closing in on a failing grade.

"You're a senior, so, are you taking this class just to fulfill a core requirement?"

She nodded.

"Well Tricia J. Stone," I said, looking for her file on my laptop, a big, ugly and heavy computer that some thought could be more easily carried back and forth than simply having a separate computer at home, "this is not a rubber stamp class. At the rate you're going, with no class participation, you're may well end up failing."

She sat down, her short black skirt riding up high, showing lots of bare thigh. I felt a stirring in my pants.

"Is there any way I can earn some...extra credit, Professor?"

The monster started to awaken, his one eye not having been exposed to beauty in quite a long time.

"What did you have in mind, Ms. Stone?"

She looked at me for a moment, as if making a decision, and then got up and went over and locked the office door. Moving back toward me, she sank down to her knees in front of me.

Her hands made quick work of my zipper. The monster, awakened and very ready to play, was in her hands, now out in the open.

She smirked and then began licking the head. I gasped.

"Haven't had head in a while?" she asked, hearing my intake of breath, then going back to licking down the shaft.

"No...it wasn't that. Just...that look you gave before you...began. It reminded me of someone."

She continued licking, getting the entire shaft and head wet with her saliva. She then looked up at me and spoke, and as she spoke, I noticed that she had bought those fake vampire fangs. As I started to tell her to remove them, it registered what she was saying.

"I got that look from my Mom. Both me and my half-brother got it from her. You know him, right? Michael? Michael Jarden?"

And with that, she sunk down on my cock, taking a large portion of it into her mouth, then clamping down with all of her might, the fangs easily piercing my penis as blood filled her mouth, my screams of agony echoing off the walls of my office.

 

The Light

CAW 18's theme was a time in history, so, I picked World War II Japan, as told via flashback from the present (well, future actually). This may well have been my best story, at least from my perspective. I really enjoy doing historical research for my stories, and in this case, I needed to find appropriate words in Japanese. This was the third time I won the CAW; may I present you with The Light.

----------------------

The Light

Ashes flicked off the end of his cigarette, the embers glowing briefly then silenced in the sand as the wind picked up. Sato's eyes narrowed, the deep creases in his leathery skin flexing slightly as he sought out the glowing disk of light sinking quickly on the horizon. Sayonara, he thought.

It no longer hurt his eyes when he looked at the sun setting over the Pacific. They too are failing, like the rest of me. 94 years is a long time, too long. As he kidded with the few friends he had at the facility, maybe God has lost our reservations?

As the sun's corona blossomed upon the water, the large glow brought back memories once again like it did everyday at this time.

The Past...

"Kenshi, please hurry. We cannot be late getting to dinner," said Sato, nervously looking at his watch, worried that if him and his wife were late to her parent's house, it would be a sign of disrespect.

"I'm just about ready," was the reply from behind the closed door.

Sato sighed and again went over in his mind what might be the best route to take to the Matosuma family estate. Through the mountains would be quicker, but with the recent rain, it could be treacherous. Going around would be safer, but it would be cutting it close, and if there were any delays...

The door to the bedroom opened and Kenshi Matosuma walked out. She was dressed in formal dining attire befitting a wife and a daughter of a powerful businessman. Sato simply saw her as a beautiful young woman. They had been married for almost half a year, and her beauty dazzled him every time he saw her.

"We must go quickly now," he said, snapping himself out of his reverie. He led Kenshi out of their house and into the Chiyoda, their five-passenger sedan. Sato once again consulted his watch as he was rounding the car to the driver's door and made a decision.

As he turned right out of the driveway, Kenshi spoke up. "But...the rain..."

"We are pressed for time," replied Sato sharply. Kenshi went silent. A moment later, Sato spoke again. "We will be fine." His voice was softer this time. Kenshi nodded, but did not speak.

She has gone into servant mode, thought Sato, preparing herself for dinner.

Sato knew that Kenshi had to live a dual life, one where she was the dutiful young Japanese woman, subservient to her husband, meek and obedient to her parents, but behind closed doors, she was much more liberated. Sato not only knew about this and put up with it, but he encouraged it. He thought that part of the problem with Japan was not enough forward thinking, a little too much tradition.

Sato knew that Kenshi's parents somewhat disapproved of him, that he was not in Kenshi's social class. That was one reason why the two of them were trying to create akachan, "the Light", a baby. They both hoped it would soothe over any lingering doubt about their union.

The drive over was relatively safe and uneventful. There were a few close calls, but Sato was skilled enough at driving to compensate for the rough roads. They arrived at the Matosuma family estate with barely five minutes to spare, and Sato calculated quickly that they would have most definitely been late if they had taken the other route.

As he parked the car in the large, semi-circular driveway near the immense fountain, Kenshi reached her hand across the seat and took hold of his.

"I love you, Sato. Please, please be patient with my father. He--sometimes he--" she hesitated, searching for the right words.

"Don't worry, Kenshi. He already knows about my decision to serve in the Imperial Navy. He's probably going to still be stewing about that news, so hopefully that will keep him away from the other subject."

Kenshi lowered her eyes and nodded, and then both of them exited the car and proceeded to the large entrance of the multi-story house.

Akagi and Yumi Matosuma were seated in the parlor when their daughter and son-in-law were shown in by the manservant. They both rose when the two approached. Kenshi and Sato both bowed low, showing respect for the family, respect for the elder couple. Akagi and Yumi bowed only slightly, more of a nod of their heads. They were generally displeased with their daughter and son-in-law on several levels, but still invited them over for dinner once per month as per family tradition.

Dinner was not as stilted as Sato feared as his father-in-law went into a near half-hour rant about the Allied forces and how Japan was going to be "going it alone" since it appeared that Germany was having many troubles, and Italy was useless.

It was then that Akagi Matosuma focused in on his son-in-law, who had just finished the roast duckling served over wild rice.

"And what is it that you will be doing for our Navy?"

Sato sat up a little stiffer, carefully wiped his mouth with the linen napkin, giving himself a few extra seconds to recall his prepared answer, and then replied.

"I will attempt to enter officer training school, and then will endeavor to be assigned to a battleship or an aircraft carrier."

The older man rocked back in his chair a bit. "You do not have the requisite education for officer training school."

Kenshi looked from her father, to Sato, to her mother, and back to Sato. She feared that this might turn bad.

"Shacho," said Sato, calling Akagi by his title of company president, a measure of respect, "my understanding is that due to a great need for officers, they are allowing a number of ... candidates ... who do not have college training to take an exam and from them, select a limited number for schooling. I hope to be among those selected."

Akagi thought about this for a few moments in silence. "I know some people that can guarantee that you get into this...training. If this is what you want, I will call upon them in the morning."

During her father's reply, Kenshi moved her foot under the table, hidden by the long, opulent tablecloth, until it touched Sato's leg, momentarily surprising him. Kenshi's eyes were respectfully focused on her father, but she was trying to send a signal to her husband, reminding him of a conversation that they had the previous evening...

"My father has connections, Sato. He can help you get into officer's school."

"I don't want his help. I want to do this on my own, Kenshi. He's given us this house, the car, and I just don't want to feel more obligated to him than I already feel now."

"Sato," said Kenshi, tenderly, "you are a good man, and I love you more than anything in this world. You will make a great officer, but, there are so few slots. If my father offers to help you, please, please consider it. To spurn his offer would be a slap in the face to him. Please, I implore you...don't just dismiss his offer."

Sato recalled the conversation, and while his first thought was to say that he wanted to earn his way into the school, he knew that based on the rant by Matosuma earlier, turning down his offer might start a fight that he didn't want nor need in his life right now, especially when he would be leaving Kenshi for a long period of time.​

"Shacho," said Sato, bowing his head in the elder Matosuma's direction, "I am grateful for your help. Thank you."

A brief smile appeared on Matosuma's face. Satisfied that he would be able to utilize his far-reaching power, he spend the rest of dinner and dessert railing once again at the war-mongering Americans and Russians.

On the ride home that evening, Kenshi let her hand move over onto Sato's trouser-covered mid-thigh. Sato looked down at her hand, then over to her eyes, which were focused on his. She smiled demurely, and then gently squeezed his leg. Sato got the message, and felt a stiffening between his legs.

Later that evening, Sato was seated in the living room, reading a newspaper, staying warm by the fire as the chilly March air was heated by large oak logs. He was engrossed in the news section and did not hear the door to the bathroom open, where Kenshi was taking a hot bath. Nor did he hear her approach. Finally, she cleared her throat, and only mildly startled, he looked up.

She was standing a mere ten feet away, totally nude. Halfway between five and six feet tall, she was nothing short of stunning, not skinny, but no extra weight on her either. Her long, dark hair was now put up, just a few strands of it leaking down about her shoulders. Her breasts were set high, more than a solid handful but not overly large, with large areolas due to the very warm bath, her nipples sticking out proudly. Sato's eyes traveled further south to her dark triangle, now still glistening with beads of water attached.

This was not the demure, subservient girl who dined with him earlier this evening. This was the ravenous, very adventurous young woman that drove Sato mad with lust most evenings. Sato still thought himself unworthy of such a beauty, a woman of class and proper bearing during the day, and a wild woman at night.

Kenshi walked closer, then knelt down before her husband, her naked body between him and the fire. She felt the flames licking toward her, keeping her body warm. She unzipped Sato's trousers and was pleased to see that he knew what was coming, his erection starting to form already.

Kenshi released his cock into the warm air and just stared at it. Sato used his muscles to flex it before her, moving it much like a snake charmer moves his flute back and forth before the cobra. Kenshi smiled. She was happy that Sato had a slightly larger cock than other Japanese men. She had heard from her one friend, who was somewhat promiscuous, that most Japanese men were about five inches in length. She had never "officially" measured Sato, but by using her fingers and then checking later, she determined that he was about six and a half inches. Her friend also complained a little that most men were just a little too thin for her liking. As Kenshi moved her hand to surround Sato's member, she thought that she was blessed because it was not thin. Although it didn't hurt her upon entry, Sato did cause her to lose her breath at times.

Kenshi felt that she owed her husband a debt for his behavior at dinner. She extended her tongue outward and licked the shaft in front of her, running her tongue upward to the tip, and then focusing on that little knot of flesh, the konchi, where she knew many nerve endings resided. She felt Sato squirm a bit and knew that if she concentrated wiggling her tongue at that spot that he would spurt all too soon.

Her face, and mouth, still warm from the hot bath, and kept stoked by the heat from the fire, enveloped his hard cock as she took several inches inside. Her lips compressed tightly, forming an oval, and she sucked inward, then drew upwards toward the head. Her tongue found the konchi once again, and wiggled, causing Sato's eyes to close with excruciating delight. Then she plunged her face downward once again, deeper, taking more of him in her wet mouth, then back upward again, downward, then upward...repeating the rhythm four, five, six times.

Then Kenshi released the very hard, wet cock from her mouth and stood up, looking directly at Sato. His eyes burned back at her, his desire set aflame by her passion. He moved off of the chair and onto the floor in front of her, and she knew what he wanted. She used to be embarrassed by his desire to put his mouth...there...but no longer. Too many times she had felt the passion waves roll over her. She lifted one leg and put her foot on a hassock, giving Sato the opening to her treasure.

Not wasting a moment, Sato traced his finger down her dark triangle, still finding it damp from her bath, until he ran along her lips, and that wetness was from her desire. His finger pressed and slide inside, a low moan escaping from Kenshi. Sato felt one of her hands resting on his head in her attempt to maintain balance. He leaned his face in and pulled his finger out, his lips making contact with the wet, stickiness now upon his slender digit. He licked and tasted her, and felt his desire notch up a level.

He also felt an almost imperceptible pull from Kenshi's hand toward her, and mentally smiled as he dove in, his face crushed up against her wetness as his hands grabbed hold of her ass cheeks and held her firm.

Kenshi gasped as she felt this incredibly lewd maneuver, felt Sato's face moving back and forth against her pussy. His tongue slipped out of his mouth and pressed against her, rubbing against her clit. She now grasped his hair with her hands, knowing that her release was just a short moment away.

But just as quickly as it started, his mouth was removed and she looked down at his, astonished that he would stop right before her release! Sato peered up at her and had a wry smile upon his face. Kenshi immediately knew that she was being made to pay for earlier than evening.

Sato stood up and lifted Kenshi by her legs, his arms forcing them upwards as he carried her the few steps to the wall next to the fire. His cock, hard as a crowbar, impatiently pushed past her hair and sought refuge inside her pussy. No gentleness here, Sato rammed forward, driving himself against Kenshi's lithe form, his cock sinking to his balls within his wife in that first thrust. She was wet enough to take him without pain, but still gasped at his girth as he first entered her.

Using the wall as leverage, Kenshi wrapped her arms around Sato's head and pulled his face close, his lips crushing hers as their tongues touched and swam together in her mouth. Sato withdrew and then thrust forward again, then withdrew once more and repeated the process again and again, hearing little muted squeals coming from Kenshi each time he was fully inside her.

Kenshi broke the kiss, her eyes scrunched as an orgasm crashed over her, her squeals of delight no longer muted by Sato's lips. Sato felt her pussy clasping his cock, pulsing, and her pleasure voice near his ear was sweet music to him. With a grunt, he emptied his balls inside, his sperm spewing forward in their fevered rush to find an unfertilized egg.

Sato held Kenshi against the wall, both of them trying to catch their breath, both of them feeling him soften a bit, both of them feeling him getting harder once again....​

The Present

"Sato?" He heard his voice being spoken, but he was too deep in the memory to want to pull back out to reality quite yet.

"Sato!" The voice was louder now. Nurse Ratched, he thought irritably.

"Yes, what is it?" he replied, grumpily, his eyes returning to focus from their thousand-yard stare.

"Dinner time, Sato. Time to eat your supper. We have a special dessert tonight...bread pudding!"

The nurse droned on, but Sato had already tuned her out, instead trying to delve back into the recesses of his mind, to the one place where he could always find comfort. But that door was now temporarily locked again.

"She has a way of doing that, doesn't she," said Fumiko, Sato's best friend and long-time resident.

Sato nodded. Years ago there would have been some wetness present at the corners of his eyes, but he had wept buckets and had no more tears to give. The annoying nurse had moved on to other targets, so Sato simply enjoyed the sunset, Fumiko quietly sitting beside him, alone in his own thoughts.

Two more days, thought Sato, and with that, he was once again back inside....

The Past

The letter arrived two days after he was back home. Such was mail delivery during a war.

October 21, 1944

My beloved Kenshi,

I will be eligible for a short leave next week. I will travel home to be with you. Soon afterwards, I will receive official notice of my new assignment. It is my hope to be posted to one of our great battleships.

I long to be with you once again, even if it is only for a few days. It is my hope to visit my parents too, with you, and spend one night there. I know that my mother worries about her son.

I look forward to continuing our pursuit of "The Light". You are always and forever in my thoughts.

Respectfully,

Sato

Kenshi was thrilled when she received the letter, and re-read it a dozen times before putting it away with all of his other letters. She ached for Sato's strong arms around her and she ached between her legs for him too. She had grown tired of using her fingers late at night, remembering all the hours of lovemaking before he left for officer training.

Hearing the water from the shower stop running snapped her out of her reverie. Sato and her had spent hours making love last evening, the remnants of it still adorning her furry nest along with trails down her leg. Sato showered first while Kenshi lay back on the bed, pillow under her lower back, legs tilted up high to assist Sato's sperm in seeking one of her eggs. Following historical tradition, she repeated the word akachan over and over, softly, willing the microscopic swimmers to be strong and persistent.

When Sato exited the bathroom he immediately saw Kenshi laying on the bed, exposed to his gaze. He felt himself starting to get hard again, but knew that he needed to get dressed and drive to the docks to report for duty.

Kenshi lowered her legs and got up off of the bed. She knew Sato had to leave soon, and that she might not see him for a long time.

"Sato. My lover. My warrior. My husband. Remember me," and she sank down to her knees in front of him, pulling the towel away from his body, "on this long journey." Leaving her hands at her side, Kenshi opened her mouth and took the head of Sato's cock inside. Then, looking up and meeting his eyes, she began inching forward, and heard Sato's sharp intake of breath. He knew she was going to do that special thing she did, rarely done because it caused her a sore throat the next day.

Sato watched as inch by inch disappeared into her mouth. She paused when about five inches were inside, then moved forward again, and the remaining shaft entered her mouth, the head lodged in her throat. Sato could hear her breathing through her nose. He waited.

He didn't have to wait long. Kenshi sucked inward, causing a pressure against his cock. Then she slid her face back until just the head was inside. She released the suction, then pushed her face forward, taking the entire shaft fully inside in one swift motion. Then the suction began again.

Sato closed his eyes. It was the most incredible feeling he'd ever experienced. Kenshi would do this for him about once a month, and each time was as good as the first. He never lasted more than two minutes, and despite the frenzied lovemaking from last night, he knew he would not last long this morning.

Kenshi was methodical, like a machine bent on doing nothing but pulling the semen from Sato's body. Her throat was already sore from the repeated enters and exits of Sato's cock but she didn't care. All she cared about was his pleasure.

When her face was pressed up against his body, she extended her tongue out and licked at Sato's ball sack. She heard him groan and knew he would shoot soon. Out, and then back in, lick at the sack, then out and in again, followed by a lick. When she felt the ball sack tighten up, her hands flew to Sato's ass and grasping a cheek in each hand, she pulled him towards her, increasing the thrust into her throat.

Sato cried out and felt his orgasm begin. Kenshi stopped taking him so deep, now bobbing her head rapidly but only taking the first couple of inches of cock into her mouth. She wanted to taste Sato's essence and didn't want it escaping down her throat until she could savor it.

Kenshi felt Sato's cock pulse...once, twice, three times, then a fourth, and a fifth, and each time she felt a warm shot of liquid land on her tongue. When Sato stopped shooting, she eased herself off his still hard shaft and leaned back a bit. She waited.

Sato's eyes slowly opened and he looked down. Their eyes met, and Sato watched as Kenshi swallowed.

"Thank you, Sato," said Kenshi, and she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him, hugging her husband, her lover, her warrior, who now had to leave for war.

Through the shuttered window, Sato saw a thin ray of light shine through, striking Kenshi in the back. He took this light as a sign that their love making was successful, that akachan, the Light, would come to them soon.

December 20, 1944

My beloved Kenshi,

As the holidays approach, I write to you with such joy in my heart! I am so excited that we have been blessed with a child. Perhaps it is the first bit of good news, that there will be more. Perhaps this blight that hurts our country will soon be over and I will be able to come home to you.

Please be careful. Make sure you visit the doctor for each appointment. Make sure that you are eating right. If you have any trouble getting fruit or vegetables, go see your parents. They will be able to get anything you need.

All my love to you and akachan.

Yours forever,

Sato

The months flew by for Kenshi. She spent a lot of time at her parent's house, mostly because she was lonely. Sato's letters came every week, and she would write back too, but knew that mail delivery was sporadic at best.

Kenshi's parents were very happy. Even Akagi had good things to say about Sato, which really pleased Kenshi. The Light had indeed become a unifying force in all of their lives. Reports would come in that Imperial forces were winning decisive victories throughout the Pacific. Life was good.

As August rolled in, word came from Sato that he would not be able to make it home for his child's birth. Kenshi was saddened and went to her father, asking him if he could use his influence to make it happen. Akagi railed against the Americans for a solid twenty minutes and then told her he would see what he could do.

On August 3, 1945, Kenshi gave birth to an eight pound, two ounce baby boy. As per her discussion with Sato months before, she named him Akagi, after her father. There was no bigger smile at the Shima Hospital than that of grandfather Akagi.

"Father," said Kenshi, "I think he looks like you in the eyes, and Mother," she continued, "he has your cheeks." Kenshi held the little warrior, so looking forward to his next feeding. She only wished that Sato could be here to hold his son.

Through his considerable influence, Akagi had arranged for Sato to come home for a week to visit with his wife and newborn son. He would arrive on August 7th.

On her first morning home, the 6th of August, 1945, Kenshi heard the telephone ring. Struggling to get up and to the phone, she was a little annoyed at her parents for calling so early on her first day home.

"Hello, Kenshi speaking," looking over and hoping that baby Akagi had not awakened.

"My love," came the first two words, and Kenshi's demeanor changed instantly.

"Sato! My warrior! Where are you? I did not expect you until tomorrow." Kenshi was very excited. She moved over and gently picked up Akagi, who had awakened but was not crying.

"I am almost home. I arrived in port early this morning and then had to run an errand for our ship's captain. I am outside the city, but, I should be done by mid-day and then I will be excused for a week. I look forward to seeing you, my love, and our son."

Tears of joy were streaming down Kenshi's cheeks. "Oh Sato, it will be so good to have you home and hold you in my arms, my husband. Akagi," she spoke to the baby, "say 'Hello' to your father."

"He is only a few days old, Kenshi. I doubt that he is ready to talk yet," said Sato, all smiles.

"Sato...he has your eyes. And I talk to him about you all day long. I tell him that you are a great warrior, and that one day, when he grows up, he will be big and strong, like his father, a fearless warrior too, and like his grandfather."

"I know, my love. I am so grateful to your father for his help in bringing me home. I miss you terribly, and, I long to see...the Light." Sato was smiling at the reference, and could hear Kenshi giggle. Then he heard another sound, a plane flying high overhead, and, then he heard his son cry out, making a sound.

"That was your son, Sato! I showed him the picture we have, the one of us on vacation at the shore, and when he saw it, when he saw you, he smiled and cried out!" Another tear ran down Kenshi's face and dropped onto the baby's tiny hand.

"Kenshi, I love you so much, and I love Akagi too. I have such great plans for us once this war is over. I want to go to work for your father, and I want for us to have a bigger family. I know I initially said just one baby, and I know you wanted more. Well, I now would like a bigger family too, Kenshi. Lots of children. And we'll build a bigger house, and I'll work hard to learn your father's business so that someday I will be able to run it--"

"Sato...Akagi and I are looking out the window and, oh my a great Light--"

The phone line went dead in Sato's hands, and then he too saw the great light when looking toward the city, but at a distance that didn't blind him. He saw a great plume of smoke appear over the city, far, far larger than any bomb explosion he had ever seen before.

Sato dropped the phone and ran for his jeep, knowing instinctively that something terrible had happened.

He confirmed this as he set out for the city, and, quickly realized that there was no city. Not any longer. It was all fire, and destruction, and a large mushroom cloud.​

The Present

"Sato." A pause. "Sato?" The attendant scowled a bit. "Does anyone know where Sato is, he's going to miss breakfast."

Fumiko looked up from his breakfast and glanced outside, toward the beach. No smile upon his face, he simply bowed low.

The attendant, getting no information from the others attending breakfast, took his clipboard and marked "absent" next to Sato's name in the slot for August 6 then used his smartphone to text his supervisor, who would send someone to Sato's room.

Sato was indeed down at the beach. He was wearing his uniform from the war, his dress uniform, decked out in his medals. He wasn't afraid. He'd been waiting for this day for quite some time. He looked forward to his journey.

Sato walked toward the Pacific, shivering slightly at the chill of the water. His uniform quickly became saturated with water, and became heavy. Sato was resolute, though, and using his last reserves of strength, he marched forward, and then began to swim.

A long swim, he thought.

Back in his room, Amanda, an elderly female attendent, had entered and found a letter on his desk, handwritten.

August 6, 2015

To Whom It May Concern,

Seventy years ago, my beautiful wife Kenshi and my newborn son Akagi were taken from me in the blink of a eye. The atomic holocaust that was borne upon my country by a single plane from the United States took everything from me. Worse, I was cursed with longevity, cursed with living for seventy years after their deaths.

I do not place blame with the United States. The leaders did what they thought was right. Still, it was my family, my wife and son, and my country, that was taken from me. I have suffered for many, many years with the memories and the thoughts of what could have been.

Now, on the seventieth anniversary of their death, at the exact hour of their doom, I shall finally join them. It is time. Cancer is within me.

Borrowing from a once great man, I consider these following words as my final ones:

Hear me, my beloved. I am tired, the roots are sick. From where the sun now stands I will fight no more forever.

Sato

Amanda put the note down, a single, large tear appearing at the side of one of her aged eyes, then slowly wandered down her weathered face. She had attended Sato for the past fifteen years.

She looked out toward the ocean and spoke softly. "Goodbye, my friend. May you find Kenshi and your son."

She turned and left, turning out the light before closing the door behind her.

 

A Horse With No Name

Now I'm going to post some random stories that I have written. This one was a non-CAW entry; I couldn't enter because I was the one hosting the CAW. The theme was to write a story about a song. I chose to write about the song that gave me my screenname. The story is about a 14 year old girl...

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A Horse With No Name


On the first part of the journey
I was looking at all the life
There were plants and birds and rocks and things
There was sand and hills and rings

I was riding out into the desert to die.

Earlier this morning I took stock of my life and realized that I didn't have anything to live for. My family was gone. My friends, what few I had, would do fine without me. I was a small cog in a large wheel and would easily be replaced. I didn't owe anyone, didn't really own anything, so, I packed up my meager belongings and put a note on them to give one pile to the Goodwill, and the other pile to the Salvation Army. I left what money I had with me on the table to cover cleaning the place for the next people who lived there. It was just me and Geen Naam, my horse. Gee, as I called him, would take me to my special place.

We left early on Monday, the sun rising over the desert to the east. I brought plenty of water and food for Gee, and some for me too. Looking back just once, I crossed the road and began the first part of my journey.

Strangely, I wasn't feeling depressed or sad. I don't think many can say that they had the opportunity to plan their death and have it happen exactly how they wish. That was kinda' exciting to me, a bit of a thrill.

As I rode out I took note of all the life that I saw. My favorite of course was the saguaro. I would take comfort in them when my supply of nourishment ran out. I noticed things that others my age would never see. The horned lizard over by the outcropping of rocks. The rattlesnake nearby, looking to make a meal of the lizard. The vultures circling above, looking for an easy meal.

It was all beautiful to me.

The first thing I met was a fly with a buzz
And the sky with no clouds
The heat was hot and the ground was dry
But the air was full of sound

I began with one peyote button. It wasn't the first time, but, as I smirked at my gallows humor, it would be my last. I never had a bad trip, and, it wasn't as if I had too much to worry about. Peyote was far better at creating a buzz than pot, and out here it was pretty easy to find if you knew where to look.

An hour passed and civilization was long gone. It was starting to get warm so I knew we'd both need some shade pretty soon. I was letting Gee go at his own pace, not pushing him at all. I had all the time I needed, so no need to push him.

I had brought one possession with me, and that was my iPod. I loved music, and wanted to have some with me at the end. As I started seeing waves in the distance, I knew the peyote was kicking in a bit, so I put my ear buds in and cued up a song. The first one was John Lennon's Imagine. A favorite of mine. The lyrics were simply amazing. If there actually was a heaven, I hoped that I would meet John there.

The sky was cloudless and the sun continued to rise; the bluff I was seeking was just up ahead. Good thing as I could tell that Gee was feeling the heat too. There wasn't as much a cave as it was an overlook that was big enough for both of us to rest in shade. I broke out water for both of us; Gee drank plenty and then lay down to rest. Horses typically don't rest this way, but then Gee wasn't your typical horse.

The naive think the desert is lifeless and still but they are sadly mistaken. If you are attuned to the desert the volume of sound is truly astonishing. Having paused my music, the button had me fully attuned, from the subtle shifting of the granules of sand to the deafening cacophony of Crotalus cerastes, it's sidewinding pit viper motion creating small landslides across the desert.

I felt so alive!

Cry, cry, cry baby! I so loved Janis Joplin, and right now her lyrics were speaking magna volumina to me. My favorite music by far was classic rock. Too many of my favorites were taken away at an early age. Joplin, Morrison, and Hendrix come to mind. I wanted to become great like them, to soar high above the fruited plains like Jonathan Livingston Seagull.

Wow. The button was really taking hold. That's the wild thing about peyote, you can get a good buzz but be hyperaware enough to know that you are buzzed.

Time for a nap. I turned the music down a bit, closed my eyes, and nestled up next to Gee. I'm not sure when I fell asleep but I awoke with a start at the thunderstorm, rare that they are in this area. We were under cover, so, the rain wouldn't bother us. Life was good. Back to sleep now.

I've been through the desert on a horse with no name
It felt good to be out of the rain
In the desert you can remember your name
'Cause there ain't no one for to give you no pain

My father named my horse Geen Naam. He was South African, and said it was a good name for a horse. It was ten years ago, so it didn't mean much to me. When I entered high school at 12, my foreign languages teacher told me what it meant. Dad had been gone for three years by then. I really don't remember an awful lot about him. That was part of the bad times, so I felt it better just to leave it in the dark recesses if you know what I mean. For as much as I meant to him, he could have named me Geen Naam too. Maybe he did in his mind.

It was late afternoon and time to get moving once again. Gee was on his feet and looked alert. I was still feeling the effects of the button, and would for quite a while, but that was fine. Wasn't my first trip; would be my last. I laughed. Sometimes I'm just too clever for my own good.

I climbed aboard Gee and continued on my journey, deeper into the desert. There was a specific place where I wanted to go, and it would take time to get there. But I had time, all the time in the world. No time at all.

A short while later I came across a downed saguaro. It looked like it had been struck by lightning, not all that uncommon out here during a storm because they were quite tall. This one looked to be at least 30 feet. In a way, I was glad to find one downed by nature because I didn't want to have to hurt one to get some nourishment. I took out my knife and cut away a bunch of fruit which I then put into my backpack. I would eat some later. Gee would too. Got some water out of this large cactus too, though not as much as I'd hoped. I stuck myself a couple of times, but, I didn't feel the pain. Buttons for the win.

After two days in the desert sun
My skin began to turn red
After three days in the desert fun
I was looking at a river bed
And the story it told of a river that flowed
Made me sad to think it was dead

The next couple of days were fairly uneventful. I looked for ways to protect myself from the sun, but it was the desert after all, and it wasn't like I was too worried about succumbing to skin cancer. Still, red wasn't my best color.

On the third day Gee and I used up the last of our water in the morning, but I wasn't worried because there was a small stream not too much further on where we could replenish our supplies.

Now you may be wondering why all of the worries about water when I planned on ending my life anyway. Well, dying of thirst wasn't how I was going to go out. No, that was long and painful and not my idea of a good way to exit this life and move on to the next. So yeah, water was important. Out in the desert, with the low humidity and dry air, and very high temperatures, you didn't last long without water. So first priority was making it to Dead Man's Stream.

The stream was dead.

The bed was dry, dry as the rest of the desert.

A little bit of panic set in. Okay, perhaps it was a little bit more than a little bit. A little bit implies that I had a back-up plan. The problem was that this was the back-up plan to me not carrying too much water along.

I tried to take stock of the situation. There were no houses out here, that much I knew. There were no wells. The stream was the only source of water that I knew. No roads. No airline overflights. No military bases.

There were saguaros, but, other than that one storm, it'd been quite dry, and they didn't have reserves of water like they had during the rainy season. So I could get some water from them, but not really enough for Gee and me, not unless I began a wholesale slaughter. And that was off the table.

Well, I thought, I guess I'm not as smart as everyone thought.

Depression sunk its hard, cold claws into me. It can be a tough battle to fight under what would be called normal circumstances, but now, it was magnitudes tougher. I was really worried about Gee, more than me.

It really came down to Gee, or a saguaro. While I felt that taking life was wrong, I knew that I couldn't let Gee die because of me. So I found an old saguaro, because I thought that taking the life of an older one that might die sooner vs. later would be better than ending one that might have lots of life left.

I carefully cut into it, chewing on pieces of the fleshy middle. It took me an hour, but I was able to carve out some large sections and squeeze some water out for Gee. I got about a gallon and a half which he drank down quickly.

Without the stream, my plans were ruined. I was going to release Gee once I got to the special place. He would have been able to make it back to the stream, and then back to civilization, but not without the stream.

We found some marginal shade and I knew we had to stay out of the sun and wait until dark before moving on. Gee was under a partial outcropping, and I was perhaps fifty feet away, wedged up against some rocks.

I popped half a button into my mouth, figuring that it would help me to sleep a bit through the day. As I got drowsy from the heat, my mind started drifting a bit, and thoughts of Lucas surfaced. I guess it was the button, because, it was more than a dream, but less than reality.

"Respect your elders."

"Oh, bite me!"

He got that look in his eye. "Really?" moving closer, "'cause last time I left that mark and--"

"Don't you dare!" I rolled away, but he was quicker and rolled on top of me. I struggled some as I didn't want any other marks on my neck.

"Hey, hey...kiss me," he said, looking into my eyes. I melted.

The screech of a vulture no more than twenty yards distant disturbed my reverie.

Vultures are an ugly creature, their own redeeming quality is helping to clean up the remains of death.

This was not going to work. Pushing thoughts of Lucas from my 14-year-old mind, I tried to focus on how to save Gee. That was my focal point, and my priority.

Nothing. I had nothing.

After nine days I let the horse run free
'Cause the desert had turned to sea
There were plants and birds and rocks and things
there was sand and hills and rings
The ocean is a desert with it's life underground
And a perfect disguise above
Under the cities lies a heart made of ground
But the humans will give no love

Gee was gone. I released him and had to strike him sharply to get him to move along. That pained me but I knew it was for his own good. I'd just fed him all the available water and hoped it would be enough for him to get back.

Dry.

My mouth was so dry, my tongue was starting to swell. This wasn't how I wanted it to go.

But I still had options.

My iPod was dead.

My sight was now blurry, the sand awash with no focus capable.

I couldn't even cry as I had no moisture for tears.

I will be brave. I will not give in to fear.

Life will go on, but without me.

I was ready. Ready to go.

I will miss you, Gee.

Goodbye, friend.

Goodbye.

* * * * * * * * * *

"She's flatlining!" shouted the technician, his voice loud despite the roar of the rotors overhead.

Another quickly produced paddles and pressed them up against her chest, calling out "Clear!"

A strong electrical jolt struck her body, making it jump upwards. The mini-diagnostic panel showed no change, a solid red line accompanied by a shrill, monotone signal continued.

"Again," shouted the technician, and a few seconds later, after making an adjustment to the paddles, a second jolt was sent through the body.

As the solid red line jumped and the monotone was replaced by a rhythmic beep, the two people in the back of the Army medical helicopter breathed a sigh of relief.

Up front, the pilot and co-pilot continued their conversation.

"Lucky girl," the co-pilot said while lighting up a cigarette. "If that horse hadn't of run off in her direction we'd have never found her, and she'd be vulture food."

"Yep," agreed the pilot, looking back down and out to the left. "Too bad we couldn't do anything for the horse."

The helicopter climbed and banked, heading back to the semi-secret military installation from where it was based. Ground sensors had been set off, and since the chopper was inbound for a training rotation, it had been vectored over to investigate.

"Probably just a stray, some wild thing without a name."

 

Darkness Was My Ally

This is a short piece, under 1,000 words, that I did on a dare. Someone said that I couldn't write a story like this, but I said different.

Darkness Was My Ally

Moving through the forest, I was careful where I stepped, not wanting to break branches or crunch small objects and give away my position. She wasn't going to be expecting me this evening, but I wanted her, and my animal instincts were taking control.

I wasn't worried about enemies finding me or anything like that. It was the hunt that was paramount in my mind. Would I be able to sneak up upon her tonight? Would she fight me, or, would she simply accept the inevitable?

The full moon cast an eerie glow as thin slivers of light passed through the canopy, streaming downward in pale pathways. I avoided the light as much as possible since I didn't want her to see me. Not knowing where she'd be, I had to be extra cautious, and that's not typically how I roll.

The sounds of the forest didn't cease around me. Most of the noisemakers were far enough away, or, realized that I wasn't a threat to them. I liked meat, not little bugs, so their continuous noise helped provide cover as I moved through the underbrush, seeking out my target.

There, in the distance, I could see her, only because she was silhouetted against an opening in the forest. I moved more carefully now, trying to keep her back toward me so that it would be much more difficult for her to spot me. The wind was perfect, near calm, so she'd have little chance of picking up my scent.

I was less than fifty yards away when she moved toward a clump of trees. Her movement wasn't calculated to yield the least amount of noise, so, I took advantage of this and moved faster, knowing that her own noise was covering that of mine.

Thirty...twenty...ten yards...she was right near the several of the larger trees, so I surged forward, ramming into her with my shoulder, knocking her forward into the largest of the trees. She howled as she lost her footing, my twelve-thousands pounds of force hitting her at fifteen miles per hour.

Positioning was perfect.

With her head down, her body propped up by her large, rear legs, and her tail askew, I moved quickly forward, my penis fully engorged from the thrill of the hunt. She was not prepared fully for my thrust, but in my lust-fogged brain, I knew she was in heat and needed to reproduce. Being the near perfect female of my species, she had her pick of mates, and I knew I stood little chance, but that didn't matter now, I was inside of her!

"You bastard!" she snarled, "Let me up now or I swear I'll kill you later!" She snarled more and tried to maneuver but she was wedged into the trees tightly with no chance of escape, her tiny front arms frantically waving but providing no help.

I continue thrusting forward, feeling her body reacting to the mating call. She was producing lubrication quickly, my near three-foot long cock seeking to go deeper and deeper within her. My body was pressed up against her, the tiny claws of my front arms scraping along her back, causing her a snarl more with pleasure-pain.

"You...are...going...to...ugh...God...going to...mmmmm....I'm...going...to...MmmMmmm...STOP...don't do this....oh God..."

I could tell that her she was angry but at the same time, her body was betraying her, and she was close to losing it. Just a few more thrusts should do it...

Her roar was one for the ages, almost scaring me! I could feel her insides clasping me, then releasing me, then clasping me again.

"Harder...faster...you better make this good for me..." she called out, grunting with each long thrust that I was making.

I quickened my pace and continued the scratching, not hurting her but providing extra stimulation. I could tell that the time of spend was almost upon me.

Bending forward, I leaned down and opened my mouth wide, then closed my jaws, catching her delectable back with my near 60 teeth. I didn't bite deep as I didn't want to hurt her, rather, I simply wanted to taste her flesh a bit as I poured one hundred million sperm into her womb.

Her second orgasm was earth-shaking, literally. She vibrated and it was all I could do to hang on. I gripped her tighter with my jaws, eliciting a howl from her as her insides once again clasped me, released me, clasped me, released me. I was ready this time, and released my spend inside of her, pushing as deep as dinosaurously possible, crushing her with my full weight. She continued howling and orgasming, breathing heavily and roaring until I collapsed against her, weary from the hunt.

A minute later she called out to me in a throaty but less anger-filled voice.

"You can get off me now..."

I released her and back away, warily, prepared for her wrath.

She looked at me for a moment, shook her head a bit and chuckled.

"Never saw that coming. I hope this produces a young one. With your stealth and my good looks, it might just survive. Come back when it gets cool, I will need your help with this."

I nodded, then continued backing away, as she moved off, presumably going for food.

I smiled only after I was well out of her area, then went back toward my lair, finding that special tree, and carefully using my teeth, made another notch in the trunk of it.

 

Woodstock

This was another non-CAW entry, can't remember which one though. I wasn't at Woodstock, too young, but I certainly was able to do my research. I enjoyed interweaving all of the characters into this fun yarn!

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Woodstock

The heat waves shimmered in the distance, inexorably rising off the sand in an unmerciful display of mother nature's authority. My girlfriend Jenny was nowhere to be found. Off to the left, the frantic, frenetic, and frenzied pounding of Santana's Michael Shrieve's "Soul Sacrifice" drum solo could be heard, the manic crowd whistling and screaming, signaling the start of another love-filled day.

It was the summer of '69. It was the summer of Woodstock, and the greatest three days of my life before I became the world's most famous porn star.

Chapter 1: Fortest fortuna adiuvat - Fortune favors the brave

I almost didn't get to go to the festival. I was working in New York City on Mayor John Lindsey's re-election campaign. It was a real bitch as Lindsey had made some major screw-ups recently, and in fact had cost him to lose the mayoral primary. So I was told that I might have to work the weekend. That was gonna' be dicey because my new girlfriend, Jenny Curran, and I had planned to spend the weekend together there. Jenny and I met at an anti-war rally in Washington, DC. We were gonna' spend time together there, because her current boyfriend, West, no, wait, Wesley, was an abusive asshole that smacked her around, and she wanted to get away from him. Then as we were in the National Mall area, she heard a voice from her past, some guy named Forrest, speaking out against the war in Vietnam, and ran off to him. A month or so later she showed up at my apartment in Manhatten with a black eye from the asshole. So we've been together for the past couple of months now, her waitressing, and me working the campaign.

On Wednesday, a few days before the weekend at Woodstock was to take place, I was working late, trying to get this one major potential donor to sign on. He was a fat cat, made his money in the automotive industry, and was far more liberal in his views than most people knew.

"Mr. Jacobs," exasperation setting in after almost 12 hours on the phone, "it comes down to this. You can invest your money with Mayor Lindsey and back a man who has balls, or you can back that Guninea wop bastard Procaccino who will roll over and present his tight ass to the Feds, kowtowing to their every wish and really fucking up our great city. So, take your choice, you can be the fucker or the fuckee!"

As I turned while talking, I could see my manager Evelyn, who had come out of her office, staring in abject horror at me. I had forgotten that she was still there.

"You will? That's excellent, you won't regret this decision!"

I hung up the phone and sunk down in my chair, exhaling loudly. Evelyn walked over.

"What happened?"

I looked up at her. She was old, easily in her early 30s, and had a frumpy look about her, from her dress to her demeanor. But she was a solid office manager, and her record keeping was legendary.

"He pledged $50,000. Said he'd have a check brought over in the morning." I smiled.

"$50,000? That's amazing! I was coming over here to fire your ass after that tirade, John."

"I sized him up as the kinda' guy who who needed to get fired up to get off the dime." I thought that this might be a good time to ask for a favor.

"Evelyn, about this weekend..."

"I can't see how I can let you go, John. We're gonna' be one person short if I do."

"Isn't there anything I can do? I'll work the next four weekends in a row. I'll do anything. This is really important to me, and I just did nail down a big cat."

I thought maybe my boyish charm might do it. Or maybe that I had just added to the Mayor's war chest. Or maybe just karma would play a role in it.

But it came down to something far more basic.

"I've heard the rumors." She was staring at me again, her eyes flickering to my crotch and then back to my eyes.

I didn't say a word.

She got down on her knees in front of me, all the while looking at my eyes for any sign of disapproval. As she undid my belt I spoke to her.

"I have a girlfriend now."

"I'm not looking to steal you from her, John. I just want to borrow this," struggling to pull out my now growing cock. She finally revealed it.

"OH! Oh my god, the rumors are true!" She began stroking me with two hands, as like other girls, she could not get a single hand around it.

I watched her pop the head of it into her mouth. Her eyes had taken on a glazed look that I had seen plenty of times before. My cock was abnormally large and it would just drive the girls wild when they'd see it, although some would also panic: "You are NOT putting that inside of ME!" Almost always they'd relent.

Evelyn took her mouth off of it and looked up at me, her hands still working their magic on my shaft.

"I'm not going to put this monster inside of me, Johnny, because when I go home tonight, my small-dicked husband will wonder what happened to me down there. But I do want to swallow you, so give me your wad, Johnny, give me your wad." And with that, she went back to sucking my cock.

Overall, I would have rated her a 7 for her blowjob skills, but her enthusiasm pushed that number up to an 8. I knew exactly what she wanted. She wanted to suck and stroke my large cock for a few minutes, and then, before she got too tired, she wanted to feel me cum in her mouth.

So I closed my eyes and concentrated on the good feelings that her mouth provided. I thought of Jenny, and the first time she saw me naked and practically fucked herself to death on top of me.

It didn't take too long. I knew that her lips would feel stretched so I let it happen sooner vs. later.

"Squeeze my balls gently and Johnny will shoot you a nice wad," I told her and heard her moan, the vibrations getting the cum churning in my balls.

With her hands squeezing my balls and her mouth pistoning on the upper third of my cock, I let loose with a large load of hot cum, one that I had been expecting to release later into Jenny.

After swallowing, she looked up and wiped her lips with the back of her mouth, eyes still semi-glazed over with lust.

Getting up off of the floor, she looked down at me, looked at my semi-flaccid cock, and said words that you rarely hear.

"Go home, Johnny, and take that beautiful cock with you. And...enjoy your weekend off."


Chapter 2: The Age of Aquarius

Like so many others, Jenny and I left early Friday morning, heading for upstate New York in my Volkswagon Beetle convertible. She brought her guitar and played and sang on the way up, singing Joan Baez songs, making the day pass faster. Traffic sucked as we got closer, but we luckily found parking and then walked a couple of miles. We'd brought food with us and a couple of blankets, but nothing prepared us for the huge crowd.

The rally where we'd met in Washington was large, but this crowd dwarfed that one. People from all walks of life, and most everyone was smoking grass. Jenny and I had brought along our own stash, of course, but we could have saved it and mooched off others the whole weekend.

We met one couple there pretty much right away, well, a guy and his girlfriend and her younger friend. They were from California and had hitchhiked. Sally and Rob had been together for a couple of years, him an easy going guy with an already receeding hairline, and her a stunning blonde with really nice breasts. Their friend, Dorothea, was also a blonde and seemed quite shy.

The highlight of the first night was listening to a short set by Arlo Guthrie followed by an hour long performance by Joan Baez, Jenny's personal hero. I held her and we swayed back and forth to We Shall Overcome.

Sex that night was interesting. There were so many people there, so many nude people, that sex was definitely in the air. Rob and Sally were going at it inside their double sleeping bags, with me overhearing Sally saying "fuck me harder you meathead".

We had one blanket beneath us, and one over the top of us. Jenny and I were sandwiched in-between. She was on top, slowly riding me, leaning forward so that her hard nipples grazed against my chest. While doing this, she noticed that Dorothea was laying down and watching us, and told me. With a slight motion of my head, I invited her to join us.

She stood up and pulled her sun dress over her head, revealing her nakedness beneath. She had a slender body, small breasts, and a small patch of light brown hair between her legs. She quickly got under the blanket, and Jenny unmounted me, moving over to the other side of Dorothea, putting her between us. Jenny confided in me that she liked girls better than guys, mainly because of her father, who abused her when she was a young girl. Her first girl-girl experience occurred at the all-girls college that she attended.

As Jenny and Dorothea kissed, I kissed the younger girl's nipples, feeling her squirm against me. My cock was very hard and it wanted some attention, so I figured I better get busy getting this girl wet. Reaching between her legs, I was surprised to find Jenny's hand there already, gently rubbing her clit area. I moved my hand away and bided my time.

Then Dorothea whispered something to Jenny, who looked at her and asked softly, "Are you sure?" to which Dorothea nodded.

The two of them kissed and then Jenny slid over on to of Dorothea, presenting the girl with her beautiful breasts. Dorothea sucked one nipple into her mouth and touched the other with her fingers. Jenny pulled me closed for a kiss, and then whispered in my ear, "She's a virgin and she wants you to be her first. But Johnny...you have to be gentle and not hurt her too badly."

I nodded my understanding, my cock now aching at the prospect of sinking into virgin pussy.

Jenny went down on Dorothea and licked her to orgasm, Dorothea putting her hand over her mouth to somewhat muffle her outcries. Jenny then moved to the side and nodded to me. Taking the cue, I moved between Dorothea legs, kneeling, and brought her legs up so that her ankles were on top of my shoulders.

She was blushing at being in such a wide open position, seeing my looking down at her soon-to-be-plundered virgin pussy.

"Please, this is my first time," she began, "go easy on..." and then she saw what I had between my legs.

"Oh my fucking god! You can't put that inside me!" This was said not in quiet muffled tones but in the unmistakable sounds of a woman who is in panic mode.

"Shhhhhhh..." said Jenny, once again moving to the now frightened young girl and kissing her on the lips.

"It's okay, Dorothea, Johnny isn't going to hurt you, he'll be gentle, I promise."

Looking down at the younger girl, I mouthed "Okay?" to her and she paused, then nodded slowly.

Taking my small tree trunk in my hand, I guided it towards her opening, the tip already dripping pre-cum. As it made first contact, I adjusted my aim, and then began pushing inward.

Her eyes got big, and that's when Jenny kissed her again, hard, and began squeezing her nipples.

I'm not sure I ever felt a pussy quite that tight. It just felt like her hips had not widened to their proper position and then rest of her remained tight and closed up. She tried moving her legs off of my shoulders but I took hold of her ankles and held her up.

One way or another, I getting inside this pussy.

My head was barely in when I felt her cherry. She tried shifting away a bit, but, that was not to be. I pressed on, opting not to snap my hips forward, but just keeping the pressure on until, ah there...there...her cherry gave way and I sunk a few inches inside before I could halt the forward movement. Her leg muscles tightened up, of course, and she let out a yelp into Jenny's mouth.

Exquisite tightness. Jenny reach down and strummed her clit for her, which caused Dorothea to loosen up her death grip on my cock. Slowly I moved forward, slow, a half inch, then I'd wait four or five seconds, then another half inch, then another wait.

By the time she started hyperventilating, I had only 8 of my 12 inches buried within her.

"That's enough, Johnny," said Jenny, "no deeper. Make her feel good."

I knew enough not to press my luck further, or my cock deeper. I withdrew until just my head was inside, and as I did so, her inner lips greedily held onto my shaft until the last possibly microsecond, then waited impatiently to once again feel my inward stroke. It wasn't long in coming, as I again went 8 inches inside of her just deflowered pussy.

As I began the rhythmic sawing, Dorothea started her first orgasm. I suspect it may have had more to do with the attention Jenny was paying to her clit than my cock stretching her insides, but regardless, the affect was the same. It felt like little hands clenching and unclenching around my cock.

I stroked faster, and knew that I wasn't going to last.

"Not inside of her," said Jenny, and I nodded.

As I felt the cum start to percolate, I pulled out and Jenny quickly put her mouth over the end, sucking hard and bobbing her head furiously, doing her best to quickly draw the cum from my balls. I blasted a huge amount of cum into her mouth, and when she pulled away, she moved over to Dorothea and french kissed her.

I passed out to the site of the two of them sharing my thick load until they both swallowed their share.


Chapter 3: "We're with you!"

I woke to the sounds of Santana. It was in the afternoon, but I forgot to wind my watch so I wasn't sure exactly what time it was. I looked around but Jenny wasn't there. I figured maybe she wandered off to get some food or maybe go to the bathroom. Dorothea was gone too, and so was Rob. Sally was there. She was rocking to the music and smiled at me. I smiled back.

I pulled my shorts on and got up and stood next to Sally.

"Hey, did you see where Jenny went?"

"Yeah. Rob took the girls to find a place to pee and then get some food."

"Cool."

Sally moved in front of me, and started swaying back and forth, rubbing her ass against me. That got my attention. I put my hands on her hips to guide her and move with her. She leaned back against me, reaching back with her hands to run then through my curly hair.

Turning her head slightly, she began to talk to me while watching the band off in the distance.

"I saw you last night. I watched you take Dorothea's cherry. Take my little friend's cherry with that big monster of yours. I can feel it now, Johnny. I'm rubbing my ass against it. Can you feel me? Do you want me, Johnny? Do you want me ass? Do you? Do you want to push that monster of yours inside my tight, tight ass?"

I reached up and took hold of both of her breasts as my answer and thrust my hips at her, making sure she felt how hard she had me.

She giggled and took my hands in hers and moved them back to her hips.

"Maybe tonight, Johnny, maybe tonight."

A few minutes later Rob and the two girls showed up and had some food so we sat down and ate and drank and laughed. When Dorothea groaned while reaching for some food, I offered to help and Sally said "I think you helped her enough last night!" Everyone laughed except Dorothea, who blushed bright red and threw some food at Sally.

The afternoon gave way to the evening, and still the music came, as did the rain, making for muddy conditions. The crowd ebbed and flowed, frisbees and beach balls were batted around and drugs, booze and sex were commonplace.

By the middle of the night, most of the crowd had passed out. Half a million bodies crashed in the middle of this pig farm in upstate NY, with Creedence Clearwater Revival taking the stage. I could see John Fogarty on stage trying to engage the audience, but most everyone was asleep.

I felt bad for him and his band, so I pulled out my lighter, flicked it and held it up in the air and then shouted "Don't worry about it John. We're with you!" He must have heard me, because he pointed in my direction and soon they began to play Born on the Bayou. My favorite song of theirs was Proud Mary. I just love the name Mary.

Jenny was kinda' quiet tonight. I asked her if anything was wrong and she said she was thinking about her friend Forrest. He was this friend of hers from her hometown, a village idiot kinda' guy, but harmless or so she told me. Sally came over and the two of them talked quietly for a minute, and I saw Jenny nod and then move over towards Rob. Sally walked over to me.

"Jenny and I are swappin' men for tonight," she said with a big smile and pulled me down to a blanket.

That was the first night that a woman took me totally inside of her, and, in this case, I was buried deep inside Sally's ass.

She started slowly, of course, and had put something slippery on my cock, and then just sat down on it...slowly sinking, slowly, slowly...her legs shaking a bit until she had enough of me inside of her that she could rest her knees on the ground. Then she rose up and bit, and then back down. Up an inch, down and inch and a quarter. Oh, she was so tight, like a rubbery vise.

When she finally got all 12 inches buried inside her, she opened her eyes and looked at me intensely and said, "You remember this day, Johnnie Holmes. You remember this day as the day Sally Struthers took your big horse cock all the way inside her."

I emptied my load into her ass a few minutes later, not knowing that her and Rob would become television stars just a couple of years later.


Chapter 4: With A Little Help From My Friends

I missed the whole incident with Abbie Hoffman and The Who, although it was passed along to me by various people through the day Sunday. Hoffman had jumped up on stage and started the give The Who some shit and Pete Townshend whacked him with his guitar, chasing him off stage. I would just shake my head and smile when I heard the story repeated to me.

Joe Cocker started off Sunday and when he covered the Beatles song "With A Little Help From My Friends", well, it was an awe-inspiring performance. I had my arm around Jenny's shoulder and her arm was around my waist.

I knew we weren't going to last. She had this thousand yard stare about her, sorta' like the ones that you'd see from the soldiers coming back from 'Nam. I knew that she had more traveling to do, and hopefully she'd find herself, but only after she excised some of those demons inside of her.

During the day we said our goodbyes to Rob and Sally, and Dorothea gave me an extra long hug, and then a kiss. She said that she believed in karma, and that we'd meet again. As she started to walk away, she turned and said "I'm changing my name. Next time you see me, call me...Seka." And with that, she was gone.

At some point in the evening we were contacted by event security staff and they took us backstage. We didn't know exactly what was going on, but after one helluva' weekend, we were hoping for some food. We were taken to a dressing room and told we should go ahead and get cleaned up.

A hot shower for each of us was heaven sent! There were some robes for us and we put them on and there was danish and other food. We ate and drank and relaxed. Around midnight a black man and a white woman entered. Jenny and I looked at each other, our eyes wide. It was Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin!

I could bore you with the details of how the sex was incredible and a once-in-a-lifetime experience, but...

...oh why not. You know how Janis has that amazing laugh and incredibly powerful voice? Well, to have a powerful voice, it comes from deeper than your mouth. It comes from your throat. I am intimately acquainted with her throat. Janis was the first woman to ever take me totally inside her mouth. If she wasn't such an accomplished singer, she could make a living swallowing swords because she swallowed mine with ease. Well, maybe not ease, but she sure did it.

Doggy style was her preference; she liked the feeling of being a man's beast, or so she said, and so I started out behind her, thrusting but not pushing all of my large cock into her for fear of hurting her. After she came, she moved away from me and lay down on her back, her head hanging partially off the bed. Using her hands to position me, she started pulling me forward, slowly swallowing and wetting my cock. When I reached the back of her mouth, she just swallowed and pulled me forward, me feeling the head pop into her throat.

She adjusted her breathing to her nose and then started in with the tongue action, pulling me deeping and then out, deep and then back out.

It was an incredible visual, watching this musical superstar swallowing my cock and then seeing her reach her hand down to her pussy, getting her fingers wet, and then bringing back up to wet my balls so that she could rub them better.

When I shot off, it went straight down into her belly, her lips pressed up against my pubic hair, her hands coaxing the cum out of my balls.

Surreal.

Later Jenny joined me, and she had a thoroughly well-fucked look about her. We wandered out towards the stage, staying out of view, but having a great look at Hendrix. He was performing the Star Spangled Banner, and as I listened, I felt like I was hearing one of the pinnacle performances of rock music.

The final song of the set was Hey Joe. As Jenny and I listened to this brilliant songwriter sing a soulful, wrenching song, we knew that our destinies lay along separate paths.

Jenny cried softly in my arms and I provided some comfort to her.

It was the summer of '69. It was the summer of change.

 

My Weekend with a Virgin

This was written for a friend. Something that never was, never would be.

-------------------------

My Weekend With A Virgin



CHAPTER ONE

At 30,000 feet, you have all the time you need for reflection. One stewardess, oh wait, flight attendant if being politically correct, a shapely blonde with come hither eyes, asked why I was grinning like a Cheshire cat. I told her that I was flying to meet the girl I was going to marry. She flashed one of those million dollar smiles that must be issued with the uniform, and went on her way. I drifted idly back to my thoughts of Tanya, and how this flight came about.

"Dirk, you shouldn't have!" she texted. Now, most people would have taken that to be "Oh, you wonderful man, thank you!" but I knew better. There was no emoticon sent with that text, so, I knew trouble was brewing.

"It'll be okay...it's time" I replied back, and then sat staring at my iPhone, waiting patiently for her reply.

It came quickly.

"That's a decision we BOTH should have made, not you by yourself! You have no idea what trouble you are going to cause me! Dammit!"

I had pushed the envelope. Tanya was standing in her grandparent's living room, with them, surrounded by 20 dozen roses.

"I love you. ::: kiss :::" When searching for the right thing to say, sometimes the simplest is the best.

"I love you too, but don't change the subject you horse's ass!"

I could tell that despite the perceived hostility, her play on my screen name was a good sign.

"Baby...there was never going to be an ideal time for this. We've waited, what, over a year now?" I was using an advanced version of Siri, so I was speaking and sending text quite fast now. "I know you are in a panic, but I'm confident that my letter to your Dad will help smooth everything over. You know how I am with words, and, you told me that he's a reasonable..."

"YOU SENT THE LETTER TOO?????????" Her text interrupted mine.

"Yes, I did."

That was the last text I received from her that day. It took several emails and voice mails to finally get her to talk to me; it was after midnight. True to my word, her Dad was accepting of my explanation of our relationship, and even a bit relieved that she had found a responsible man.

Phone sex that night was one-sided...it was "make-up phone sex" and I was doing my best to relieve her tension. It worked, thankfully, and she slept quite well.

The slight bounce from the wheels hitting the runway woke me from my sleep. I looked out the window and saw LAX speeding by. Once the plane settled and ferried us to a terminal access point, I got up and retrieved my carry on luggage. As I exited the jet, Ms. Million Dollar Smile wished me well, and I was off to find the rest of my luggage.

Waiting around for baggage handlers to mishandle the baggage was tiresome, until I got hugged from behind, which completely started me. I spun around.

"Tanya! What the...you weren't going to be able..." and that was the last word I spoke as she launched herself into the air, wrapping her legs around me, and fastening her lips to mine, no pretense...tongues touching in that age-old dance of oral love.

When we broke apart, there were a few stares, but heck, this was California. Tanya hugged me tightly, then whispered in my ear "Is that a loaded weapon in your pocket, or are you just glad to see me?" I chuckled and then replied "Both, baby. Both."

Collecting luggage didn't seem so dreadful after all. I found out that she had been dropped off by a friend, so, my plan to rent a car was next. I had selected a Mercedes E350 Convertible, not to impress, but because I loved open air driving. As we worked our way out of the massive airport and got on the 405...well, life was good.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"You have us covered?"

"Yes." It wasn't exactly tentative, but it was slightly nervous.

"Ok. We're going up north, maybe 4 hours."

I could see her wonderful, scientific mind start its calculations, taking into account road conditions, traffic, mileage, speed, and whatnot.

To me, she was one of great, natural wonders of the world. Beautiful, smart, great personality, smoldering sexual undertones...what more could a man ask for? I was blessed that she found me appealing.

"Pismo Beach?"

"No, but you aren't far off. San Simeon."

"San Simeon. There's not much there, other than...you...you...you didn't!"

I just smiled. She remembered.

"I thought that was just you talking...you really did it?"

More smiling.

The rest of the ride consisted of small talk, kissing, almost driving off Route 1 while kissing, me ogling her, her blushing, more small talk, some big talk, more kissing, more horn blowing at my erratic driving, and some repeating of what I just reported.

Later in the afternoon, Hearst Castle came into view. For those unfamiliar, it's a 90,000 sq foot residence now museum originally build for newspaper magnate William Randolph Hearst. Opulence is a poor man's word to describe the treasured beauty of the estate.

It was closed to the public this week for renovations, which were completed yesterday. I once did a huge favor for the general manager, who in turn granted me exclusive access to the mansion for the weekend. Of course, there would be a contingent of guards and other staff, but they would be quite discreet, and absolutely no visitors.

As we drove up the long road, she moved closer to me, my non-driving arm around her, one hand of hers across my chest, her head on my shoulder. I could feel the excitement building in her. She had arranged to "go away" for this weekend and the reality of it was now hitting her.

I parked the car and we got out. Again, it is hard to describe the mansion in any detail that gives it justice. We just walked, and she would point out something to me, and then turn and see something else and rush to that. It filled my heart to see her like a kid in a candy store, thrilled with each new discovery.

As we rounded one bend, the Neptune pool came into view. There was simply a gasp from here. It was huge, over 100 feet in length, and surrounded by ancient Roman statues and columns and even a true facade of a temple that was imported from Italy.

"It looks so inviting on a warm day like today."

I nodded.

Then I did something that totally blew her mind.

I started undressing.

"Wh--What are you doing?"

I had slipped off my shoes and had unbuttoned my shirt and was removing it.

"I'm going for a swim, what else?"

"But you can't...but what if someone comes by..........." she stopped talking as I dropped my pants, stood naked in front of her for a second, smiled, and then dove headfirst into the crystal-clear water.

As I surfaced 20 feet in, I spun back toward her and asked "Are you going to stand there and catch flies with your mouth open, or are you going to join me?"

She closed her mouth, her cheeks blushing profusely. It wasn't all embarrassment, I noted, as I saw her nipples harden somewhat beneath her form-fitting blouse. There was some arousal there too.

"I don't have my suit with me."

"Neither did I," I countered.

"Looking for a cheap thrill?"

"There is nothing cheap about you, darling. I love you. Forever."

Without bones, I suspect she would have melted into a puddle.

I was casually doing a backstroke, strategically keeping a certain section of my anatomy below water level, although it was threatening to break the surface much like the dorsal fin of a shark.

"Well?"

"Well...turn around."

I smirked and paddled myself so that I was facing away from her. About 45 seconds later I heard a small splash.

I turned around and a second later she surfaced, well, her head and neck did.

"Ohmygodyoudidn'ttellmethewaterwassofreakin'cold!!!"

I chuckled.

"Babe, it's mountain fed, what did you expect?"

"I don't know but I'm cold!"

"Come here," I suggested.

She was torn between seeking my body's warmth but then knowing that the closer she got to me, the more that I would be able to see of her. A decision was forth-coming.

"Oh, what the hell," and with that, she swam over to me.

I thanked whatever gods there might be for the incredible filtration system that kept the water pure and glass clear. As she ceased her swimming and gently treaded water, I could make out small, dark nipples against her somewhat tanned skin. Further down, although somewhat obscured by small ripples of water, I could see a darkness at the juncture of her legs. My arousal went up as I realized that she had let her pubic hair grow out. I knew that was done solely for me.

"Come close, darling, I won't bite," I said, and then in sotto voce, "much."

The blushes that appeared in texts were obviously quite real as I saw another. But she moved closer.

I held out my arms and the love of my life pressed her body next to mine, my lips seeking out hers. We kissed, our hands caressing each other's body lightly, exploring almost innocently as our passion rose.

After a few minutes I spoke, "Are you warming up?"

She smiled demurely, then said, "Can you not tell?"

I looked into the water, and could see that while her nipples were still hard, the surrounding areola were enlarged, a definite sign of arousal. The hard nipples were from arousal now, not cold.

"I'm not really sure."

She smirked this time. Then her face changed to one of adoration.

"I love you, Dirk." And with that, she took my hand in hers, and brought it to one of her breasts.

"God..." I whispered, and crushed my mouth onto hers, gently squeezing first one breast, then moving my other hand to her other breast and doing the same. She whimpered into my mouth, my tongue dancing with hers. My fingers closed in on her nipples, squeezing both at the same time, not hard, but with enough pressure to elicit a kiss-muffled moan. We jostled in the water, our legs becoming more entangled. Her body shifted more, and I felt her bush rub against my thigh, then settle down on it. We both broke the kiss at the same moment, looking into each other's eyes with longing.

"Tanya...we need to stop...need to get out of the water, babe."

I could see into her eyes, the fire raging in her soul. It couldn't be like this, couldn't happen now.

I disengaged and began swimming toward the edge of the pool, seeing that there were now two large towels placed discretely on a bench. I tied one around me, and then opened the second, wrapping it around her naked body as she climbed out of the water.

"You truly are the most patient man on Earth."

If she only knew how tested my patience was becoming.

I smiled.

"There's more for us to see. Go get dressed" I said, pointing to a small cabana and handing her the clothes she had discarded earlier.

A few minutes later she emerged, fully clothed, looking dangerously beautiful. I kissed her.

"Let's go explore."

And we did. We walked through the Gothic Study, marveling at the incredible architecture. Next was the dining room. She sat at one end, I at the other. I asked her to pass the salt and she giggled. We walked, arm in arm, for a couple of hours. Dinner was prepared and we ate in a small room; the dining room was simply too much. After dinner we shared a cocktail poolside, a light breeze providing respite from the day's heat. As the sun set over the ocean, I couldn't think of a more perfect setting.

"Do you think we could head inside?"

"Yes, darlin', of course."

And so we walked again, me remembering the map I was emailed two weeks ago, heading directly for one of the large, well-decorated bedrooms with the huge, oversized four poster bed.

"Wow..." she said, looking around.

I closed the door and locked it, although that latter step wasn't necessary.

"I'm going to take a shower," I said, and headed off into the bathroom.

The shower, well, I guess Hearst was into group cleansing. I've heard of walk-in showers, of course, but this was more like a drive-in shower it was so large. There was room for a dozen people, and there were probably that many shower heads. I turned on the water, selected one bather from the control panel, and watched as the shower heads moved, cascading water in one concentrated area. How cool! I removed my clothes and walked into the waterfall.

It was incredible. Hot water coming at you from all directions, all at slightly different levels so that it felt like you were literally swimming. It was heaven.

I didn't hear her come in, the force of the water enough to drown out small noises. But I saw a small reflection off a wall. Turning, I saw the love of my life walking towards me, through the mist generated by all of the hot water.

Joining me in the middle of the river of water, we kissed again, as lovers do, the heat of the rushing water no match for the heat of our passion. I was instantly hard, and I'm sure she could feel it pressing against her.

She broke the kiss and walked over to the panel and studied it for a few seconds, then pressed it a few times. The water spray shifted, softened, and became more of a light rain vs. a drenching downpour. She again joined me under the half-spray, half-water.

"I love you, babe."

"I know," she replied. We both giggled. It was our joke. One person professing their love, the other replying with the casual zinger. I loved it.

She turned serious.

"You are my one true love, Dirk. You've been incredible to me over this past year. I'm not just talking about the gifts and stuff. That's all been great. The flowers, the jewelry, all of the sweet things that you've sent...the crystal penguin, my god...but it is more than that. It's the way that you've embraced my family. It's the way that you've been so incredibly patient with me, with my moods, with my bitching and complaining about school, with everything that I've thrown at you...and my virginity. You've let me wait, and never made me feel bad about it. I feel that I owe you so much..."

"Tanya, you owe me nothing..."

"Hush, I'm talking. I've given you my love...and now I want to give you something else. Something that I couldn't give you until today..."

And with that, she knelt down before me, hands on my thighs...and looked up at me, eyes smoldering with lust...


CHAPTER TWO

...and began to wash my body using the thick sponge that was loaded with body wash. Starting at my feet, then my ankles, my calves, up to my thighs, scrubbing vigorously.

This was, of course, pure torture. I was at full mast. How she avoided banging into it with her head or getting poked in the eye was beyond my comprehension.

But avoid she did. She continued up my thighs, my waist, torso, my chest, my neck, then both arms, with her now standing. Then she moved behind me, getting my back, ass, legs...and now she was back in front of me again, looking into my eyes.

She anticipated me.

"No...I didn't forget anything..." and with that she again descended before me.

The torture ascended to another level as she used the sponge first on my balls, gently washing them again and again, and then on my cock, surrounding it with the sponge and stroking it, not fast, but with a firm grip. My eyes closed. The combination of the warm, sudsy texture of the sponge, and knowing it was her, there, in front of me, her face mere inches from me...I felt my steely resolve crumbling. I...was...so...going...to...explo..............

She released her grip and arose in front of me.

"All clean," she pronounced.

I swallowed. And then my eyes opened to see her standing, just the faintest trace of a smile on her face.

"My turn," I said, taking the sponge from her. I applied a generous amount of body wash, set the water to a lower amount but increased the steam effect, and sank to my knees before her, thinking two can play this game, and that I played to win.

I too started with her feet, taking my time with each one, individually cleaning each toe thoroughly, but all the while keeping my face a mere inch from her body, her pussy to be exact. Naturally, being a mammal, I needed to breathe, and breathe I did, making sure that my exhalations of air were aimed right at that most sacred of locations on her body. I knew what effect this would have on her mind and body.

As I washed both of her legs, I was afforded a close-up view. Granted, the view was somewhat obscured by her recent growth of hair, straight and black, but I could still see a little...the delicate lips looking oh so small. I could only imagine how tight she would be. And, I could only imagine the heat that was brewing within, my warm breath painting a haze of erotic mist across her crotch.

I moved, reluctantly, upwards, but them remembered that I'd get to do some additional teas..er, cleaning, as her breasts again came into view.

I decided to take a different approach and discarded the large sponge in favor of something different...gloves! These were specially made gloves, the inside a thin but strong rubber compound, while the exterior was made up of a combination of small but strong bumps for cleaning power, interspersed with soft, spongy materials for suds retention. I put two of them on, applied more body wash, and then returned to her. My hands began caressing her body, her sides first, then her taut belly, all the while rubbing and applying varying amounts of pressure with my fingers. Think of it as an erotic massage but one that was cleaning at the same time.

Fingers have much more dexterity this way, so I was able to carefully cascade them across her chest, avoiding the most sensitive spots, swirling in circles, tracing the undersides, drawing away from them, and then slowly sliding back, and forth, back and forth...finally brushing across her nipples quickly but not stopping. I studied her face during all of this, mine impassive...but hers running through the gauntlet of expressions from heightened erotic response to desperate for a solid touch vs. all the teasing. A small grunt came from her when my palms crossed across her nipples.

I moved my hands up her body, now on her shoulders and her neck, then over both arms, being careful to avoid tickling and thus distracting her.

I moved behind her.

First I started on the back of her neck, then some solid rubbing and massaging her shoulders, seeing her head moving from side to side a bit to fully enjoy the massage. Next I moved to her back, first vigorous, then softening and providing more tracing movements. At one point, I as I was rubbing her sides, I moved my hands around once again to her breasts, cupping them with my hands...and eliciting a sharp intake of breath from her. That sound changed to a solid whimper as a thumb and forefinger of each hand found a nipple and began rubbing them.

I kissed her shoulders while doing this and felt her head turn towards me, lips seeking out mine. I relented, and kissed her, her tongue slipping into my mouth as her arms reached up and around, taking hold of my head and keeping it in place to extend our french kissing.

As I continued the nipple, um, cleaning, she pressed her ass against me, against it, and began rubbing back and forth.

Oh no...that would not do. This was about her.

I released her nipples and ended the kiss, smiling at her.

I sang a short verse, looking at her...

How many times must I say I love you
Before you finally understand?
Won't you be my forever woman?
I'll try to be your forever man,
Try to be your forever man........

Kneeling down, I continued my caressing cleansing of her body, her lower back, then the backs of her legs, and then finally moving back up to her ass, perfect that it was, right in front of me.

It was at that moment that I decided that her inner thighs needed extra attention, so I put both hands between them and silently urged her to spread her legs just a bit.

She did. Wow. What an incredibly erotic view.

I began rubbing between her legs...on her upper thighs, first with one hand, then with the other...then with both at the same time. Occasionally one of my fingers would stray and rub against her pussy, and I would feel her shiver.

Finally, I began to rub her pussy "intentionally". To clean it, of course. I gently opened her lips and rubbed gently inside, accidentally occasionally rubbing against her clit. Slight jumps by her, followed by somewhat of a grinding motion, was not uncommon during this phase of the cleaning process.

The control I exerted in not just grabbing her by the hips, mashing my face against her, and licking her pussy until she exploded, was impressive.

I finished cleaning her butt, making sure to gently poke and prod to continue her erotic torture. Then I stood up, stripping off the gloves and dropping them.

She spun around.

"You...you can't...just leave me like this!"

"Like what?" I asked with an impish smile.

She growled at me.

"Like I want to throw you on the floor of this shower and fuck you to death!"

Wow. I think I could count on one hand the number of times she had dropped the f-bomb and have plenty of fingers left over.

I leaned in and kissed her, sweetly, on the lips, then pulled back.

"Darlin'...that would NEVER happen. I made a promise to you that we would wait until we are married. I will not break that vow."

The look on her face was a combination of wanton desire and incredualty.

"Are you kidding me? I get away for an entire weekend, you come all the way out here, we're in this shower naked and all hot for each other, and you're telling me you're not going to make love to me?"

I kissed her again, this one with more passion.

"Lover...we are going to make love tonight, I promise you. I love you."

"I love you too, Dirk, so much."

"We will make love tonight baby...but..."



CHAPTER THREE

"...I'm just not going to take your virginity."

She gave me one of those "we'll just see" looks that became famous via our video chats on FaceTime over the past year.

After finishing up rinsing off, we pulled two oversized towels from the towel oven, a pizza-oven looking device that heated them to a comfortable, body-warming temperature, and dried off.

Walking back into the bedroom, I could feel that the Viagara I took right before showering was taking effect. While some snickered at the use of Viagara, those in the know knew that it wasn't just for men with erectile dysfunction, but also for those who wanted a crowbar-like erection reminiscent of an 18 year old.

Tanya crawled under the covers of the bed, and beckoned me.

"Come to bed, lover."

I first went and adjusted the lights, dimming them and setting the color to a deep red glow. Next I added some music, a surprise for her. It was Ravel's Bolero, made famous by Torvill and Dean at the '84 Winter Olympics in Sarajevo, and by Bo Derek in the movie 10, when she asked Dudley Moore's character, "Did you ever do it to Ravel's Bolero?" We had talked about this piece of music before, her favorite.

It's amazing when you look at the one you love, and see her melt like warm butter before your very eyes.

As I moved into bed and under the covers, my demure, "saving it for my marriage" online lover for over a year, launched herself into my arms, pushing me down on the bed. She straddled my hips with her legs, her now quite visible pussy resting against Mr. Crowbar, who was now so hard I think he could etch some glass. She was leaning forward, her hand on my shoulders, holding her up, eyes focused on mine, while she lazily rubbed her wet, virgin pussy up and down my shaft, the lips performing an erotic squeegee wash.

Then she paused, the head of my cock poised at the juncture of her slick, slightly swollen entrance.

I swallowed.

"I want so badly to sink down right now and take you deep inside of me...but before I do, there is so unfinished business..."

With that she slid her pussy once more down along the length of my shaft, coating it with her own lubrication. This time, she didn't stop and reverse direction...she simply moved further down my body, mouth nipping at my body along the way, nails from both hands lightly raking my skin, causing all sorts of jumpiness within me.

Her obvious destination was Mr. Crowbar, who felt epically hard, and my accompany balls, which had not found release, on purpose, for well over a week.

She was too far gone for prolonged teasing. Taking my shaft in one hand, she brought her mouth down over the head and enveloped it, sinking several inches into her mouth, tasting both my precum and her own wetness. For a brief second she closed her eyes, savoring the moment, then opened them and looked at me as she moved her mouth back up to the head, swirling her tongue around and around, then back down, taking three, four, five inches into her mouth.

I had thought about this a number of times, and knew that I would be good for two solid orgasms this evening, so I relaxed and let it happen, slowly pumping my hips in rhythm to her mouth. I knew this was the second blowjob that she had given in her life, the first being to some random boyfriend of hers many years ago, and that it was a disaster. This, this was no disaster. She was literally pulling the cum from within me.

A soft hand rubbed my balls, feeling them, and squeezing gently. My eyes were locked onto hers. I watched as her lips were stretched around the wide girth of my cock, as she again and again impaled her head on it, her lips gripping it tight with suction as she pulled up, then loosened a bit on the ride down. Her tongue was in constant motion, licking, swabbing, applying pressure here and there as it danced ove the surface of my cock.

As I approached the point of no return, my eyes started to glaze over, and I both heard and felt the vibrations of her moan. Her speed picked up, the suction ratcheted up a few notches, the hand holding my shaft beginning to stroke, trying to coax the warm sustenance out of my body. She lightly ran her nails across my balls and moaned once more, and that was it.

Ten days worth of online teasing. Ten days worth of touching and stroking but not completing. Ten days worth of anticipation.

Ten days worth of hot cum came shooting out the end of my cock and into her loving mouth. My hips bucked reflexively, a call to my diety escaping my lips as more and more jets of semen pulsed into her mouth. I could hear her moaning loud now, trying to swallow to make room for yet more of the creamy filling. I don't think I had cum that much in well over a decade. It just wouldn't stop, some of it overflowing her mouth and dribbling down my shaft.

As the sensations declined, I could open my eyes and look at Tanya. She had just pulled my cock from her mouth, and I could see some of my cum on her lips, chin, and tongue. She swallowed again, then licked her lips, looking at me, pure lust in her eyes.

She began licking my shaft, her tongue gathering up what semen had escaped her mouth. I closed my eyes and endured the licking, my cock a little over-sensitive at the moment, and showing some signs of weakening, though still retaining that Viagara-induced hardness.

Tanya brought her mouth up to the head of my cock and began lightly licking it, and then taking just the head inside. I saw some movement and realized that she had moved a hand between her legs for a moment. When I felt her hand moving between my legs, pushing them further apart, I realized what she had done. She was getting her fingers wet with her pussy juice, a nice, natural lubricant.

A single, slender finger penetrated my ass fully as she sunk her mouth down over my shaft again...this time trying to take it as deep as she could. Before she got it all, she started to gag, expectedly, this being the second cock she had sucked. As she rose back up off of my cock, she slid her finger backwards in my ass, until just the tip remained buried within.

Then she repeated the sequence...finger shoving deep, mouth doing deep...finger withdrawing...mouth withdrawing...again...again...again...until she slid a second, slim finger inside of me.

I had had enough!

I pulled away from her, and, moving quickly, tossed her on her back, head up on a pillow. Moving between her long, slender legs, I took one ankle into each hand and lifted them, high, pushing them back and apart, until her virgin pussy was spread wide before me. I moved forward a bit and Mr. Crowbar, back to his old, rigid self, was poised right above her opening, it looking about twice the size of what would safely fit inside of her.

"Do it. Fuck me. Please?" she begged.

As I leaned forward, the head of my cock nudged aside her swollen, very wet pussy lips, and started to sink inside of her.

A low growl emanated from her throat, her hands gripping the sheets tightly, eyes wide open.

I poised myself for one, fast thrust, one massive push forward that would snap my cock through her hymen, forever end her virginity, and sink myself balls deep within the walls of her pussy...what would become "my" pussy the day we got married...




CHAPTER FOUR

I couldn't do it.

"No."

She looked up at me. "What the fuck did you just say?"

"I can't do it. I can't take your virginity. You've waited this long...you can wait a little longer, until we are married."

And with that, I moved my cock away from her pussy, and replaced it with my face.

I could feel through her body that she wasn't happy with all of this, but I was determined not to pop her cherry tonight. Instead, I looked at the treasure before me. With her legs spread, and my face mere inches away, I was looking at paradise. Helen of Troy's face launched perhaps a thousand ships, but this, this could launch nuclear weapons.

Her pussy lips were small, yet swollen with desire. Nothing larger than her finger had ever passed between them. I so ached to put my cock inside of her, but, I was determined not to do that too. Her pussy hair was dark brown, almost black, and mostly straight, with most of it above, though a small amount grew down the sides, framing her tender lips. It looked beautiful.

I began licking along the sides of her lips, just with the tip of my tongue, lightly tracing her lips up toward the hood that covered her clit. That I avoided, for now, and began tracing downward on the other side.

I heard a soft moan come from her, and felt her relax a bit.

Kissing each thigh, I then lightly licked each inner thigh, alternating...feeling her squirm a little. I licked down below her opening, towards her ass, then reversed direction, my tongue entering her, licking and tasting her sweet nectar. I loved the taste, which made me very happy since I planned on spending many thousands of hours with my face between her legs in this position over the coming years.

I pushed my tongue in deeper, wiggling it...and then I decided to try one of my own, self-taught techniques on her. I took my arms and wrapped them around her legs, firmly, so that she wouldn't be able to move. Then I moved my tongue up to her clit. Rather than lick it, and suck on it...which has always produced good results, I wanted to try something else.

I began licking at it, but, just with the barest tip of my tongue. The very tip. Just back and forth, back and forth, very rapidly, just barely touching her clit. If you are familiar with butterfly kisses, that's exactly what this was, but instead of my eyelashes on her cheek, it was my tongue, on her clit.

At first it just feels interesting, or so I'm told, a different sensation. But, I don't stop. I keep up the same pace, like a machine, and on the exact same spot. And that's where it develops into a maddening sensation, an itch that can't be scratched. That's why I had a good hold on her legs.

I felt her squirming now, and moaning some. Good. It was working.

I kept up the steady pace, never putting additional pressure, even as she tried to shift her body or thrust her pelvis towards me.

"Gawwwwwddddddd....please.....lick it...suck it...." she begged, but I would not listen. I simply kept up the butterfly-kiss like licking...thirty more seconds...sixty more seconds.

Her head was now moving back and forth on the pillow, her nipples were hard, and her hands were gripping the sheets.

I now sucked at her clit, my lips surrounding it, applying suction, my tongue in a frenzied whipping motion back and forth over it.

Her head and upper body shot up off of the bed as though a cattle prod had gone off inside of her, and she came, her juices increasing their flow, her legs fighting against my arms, hands pinching her nipples, grabbing at her hair...her body was overloading with lust as I continued to lick and suck at her clit.

I pulled away, knowing that she would now be ultra-sensitive and that it would actually be too strong of a feeling, and lacking pleasure. I just kissed her thighs, her bush, then licked the inside of one thigh, which drew her hands quickly to my head and her voice telling me no, too sensitive.

I rolled her over and then got on top of her, my cock sliding between her legs, feeling the wetness of her pussy. I squirmed my hands under her, feeling her breasts and gently squeezing her still hard nipples. My mouth found her neck and I kissed it, and then nipped at it with my teeth, her body jerking at each light bite.

She started moving her hips a bit, pushing back, liking the feeling of my cockhead rubbing against her clit. Her legs were clamped together tightly, making a nice, tight, wet slot for my cock to slide back and forth against. It felt good, but, I was okay, the blowjob she gave me earlier taking off the edge. I could last.

My goal wasn't to cum, anyway, but to bring her off again. And I knew it would happen sooner vs. later. That first orgasm of hers, a powerful one, no doubt, was just the beginning.

As I stroked, her pussy lips rode along the top of my cock, and on each stroke, her clit would be rubbed, nudged, and touched by a warm, wet, and solid piece of meat.

Between the sensations in her pussy, my nipple play, and the neck biting, she came again, this one not nearly as powerful, but a more extended orgasm, one that I rode out between her legs.

My cock was coated with her secretions.

I got off of her, and then pulled her hips up towards me. She helped what she could, much of her energy sapped through the powerful orgasms.

When she felt my cock between her legs, she once again thought that I was giving in to temptation and ready to finally fuck her virgin pussy.

"Yes, fuck me baby."

But that wasn't my target. I was still firm in my resolve that she remain a virgin, at least in her pussy.

Her ass was still virgin territory, but not for long, as I pressed the head of my swollen, very wet cock against her tiny asshole.


CHAPTER FIVE

As I pressed forward, and she realized my intended target, her eyes went from being sleepy to quite wide instantly.

"Are you kidding...wait...we only talked about this...god...okay...okay...just...go.......slowwww..."

With the right amount of lubrication, the right amount of forward pressure, and the right angle, it is possible to make a square peg fight into a round hole. Not that my cock was square, but, I suspect to Tanya it felt like a square telephone pole. This was perhaps the first time ever that I wished my cock wasn't so thick, for her sake.

Just then the head popped inside, and her ass muscles clamped down on me!

There was an audible gasp from her, and I could see that her eyes were now squinted shut, her hands grasping the sheets in a death grip.

I reached down between her legs and gently began rubbing her clit.

"Are you okay?" I asked, keeping the pressure on, but not trying to push deeper inside.

"Just...go...slow," was the reply through gritted teeth.

I knew once we were able to get her a little accustomed to me that she would enjoy it, or should enjoy it. I hoped.

I leaned forward a bit, and greasily slid an inch inside. Another slight gasp and intake of breath.

I think the clit rubbing was helping a little, as she rolled her hips once. That got me an extra half inch.

"Push against me," I suggested.

"What? I can't..." she replied, but, I didn't believe her.

"C'mon. You want me in your ass. It's turning you on."

Her eyes were directly on me, squinting, not from pain now, more like, scorn.

"Fuck you. This hurts. I'm not enjoying...god...mmmm...not enjoying this at all, you bastard!"

I pressed forward and sunk another inch and a half inside of Tanya's tight ass.

Her mouth formed an "O".

"Rub my...clit...faster...please," she gasped.

And so I did. And so I sunk deeper...and deeper...feeling Tanya's legs quiver as my cock was seeking out the depths of her ass.

"Are you...," her eyes were closed again, "...are you...all...the...way....inside?"

I had stopped moving forward.

"Yes, babe." I was balls deep in her ass. I could go no deeper. It felt great. Her ass was very tight, and it felt like it was squeezing along the entire length of my cock.

"Tanya, darlin?"

"Yes, my love?"

"Rub your clit." I let go and took hold of her legs, one in each of my arms, adjusting for leverage.

She looked up at me, wondering, then realization hit her. She quickly began to run her clit in a circular motion.

"Wait...go...sl" but she was too late.

I pulled back, withdrawing all inches of my cock except for the head. Then I immediately pushed all of it back inside of her.

"Ohmigodohmigodohmigod!"

I smiled.

"You're gonna' love this, babe."

I began sawing in and out of her ass now at will, holding onto her legs and using them to provide leverage to fight the resistence offered by her ass channel. The pussy juice lubrication was just enough to provide a nice coating without making it too slippery. The feeling of cock sliding in and out of her asshole was truly incredible. It kept clutching and unclutching my cock over and over again.

And as I looked at the love of my life, her face all flushed, her nipples extended and hard, breathing hard, I realized that she was having multiple orgasms. I had just taken her ass cherry, and she was rapidfire cumming!

This knowledge was enough to cause me to shoot off inside of her, bathing her insides with my warm sperm. I hunched against her, emptying my balls, feeling all of my energy drain from me.

It wasn't just me, though. Tanya, well, she was now nearly unconscious. So I allowed myself to lay down next to her and drift off to sleep.

It was a struggle to move my arms or legs, so I just opened one eye. Blurry, I could see that it was morning, and, Tanya was standing next to the bed, wearing latex, and holding a riding crop.

As if that wasn't enough of a shock, I realized now that the reason for my struggle for arm or leg movement was because I was in restraints!