Archive for erotica

Rain on a Two-Lane Highway

It was an epic trek from East to West, a nearly spontaneous roadtrip-vacation that sent me speeding across that almost inconceivably vast stretch of continent called North America. Just another guy in just another car, pushing forty and holding his breath against middle-age. A long, long, long stretch of this country, as seen from the inside of a rental car on I-90 with the cruise control dialed in at 74 mph is flat, banal, and same-ish. Exit ramps, gas stations, fast food joints, motels and McMansions repeat themselves like an animated porno GIF.  I finally climbed out of the desert into the setting sun, caught one brief glimpse of the snow-capped peaks of the Cascades, and then began my long steep descent, plunging into thick forests of evergreen, silent and impenetrable. The clouds seemed to extend all the way down to the ground; flashes of brilliant green amongst the mists, now and then a fleeting glimpse of water, a working harbor, my wipers constantly on a slow intermittent.

A wet two-lane highway, shrouded with trees. The darkness that enveloped me was thick and heavy, as if a wool blanket had been thrown over the car. I found their house, old friends reunited, if only for a night. Erich and July, compadres from days gone by. I had once considered poaching July from under Erich’s nose back when they were first dating, and she had seemed at least tentatively willing to be poached, but nothing had ever come of it. Home-made veggie burgers, salad from the garden, sweet potato fries, a bottle of red wine and then another. Their daughter, Freya, was a teenager now. I remembered seeing her baby pictures. Strange, how time accelerates as you get older. She was an attractive girl, neither a surly nor a prissy teen; she seemed intelligent and shy, fascinated by life in New York, but a little too bashful to really join in the conversation, which became louder and more boisterous as the wine disappeared. She had long, carefully brushed blonde hair and glasses. She was tall and slightly awkward and had a pretty smile. She reminded me of a young giraffe. I felt her eyes on me all the way through dinner. Her solemn gaze made me feel oddly self-conscious.

Solarium overlooking the back yard and the evergreen trees beyond. They made the futon into a bed for me, crisp high-thread count cotton sheets, down pillows. A long way away from the shithole apartment we had briefly shared in the distant past, sandwiched between a strip-mall and the railroad tracks, choked with art supplies, bongs, paperbacks and compact discs, the ephemera of a liberal arts education. I snuggled naked under the covers, comfortably half-drunk and exhausted from travel, resisting for once the habitual urge to jerk off. Sleep came like a sledgehammer, and I do not remember dreaming.

I woke up stupid early, with an erection, a dry mouth, and the shadow of a headache.  Deciphered the complexities of their coffee machine, picked up yesterdays Times, crawled back into bed. The headache and the morning wood started to fade as night surrendered to early morning. The sun had not yet risen, though the overcast sky was pale with the coming dawn.

I sat up in the bed, sipping my coffee and not really reading an article about the recession while dim light insinuated itself over the damp, dewy garden.

Freya slipped into the room, looking like a page out of the Land’s End catalog in her blue flannel pajamas. She carried a large glass of orange juice and a spiral-bound notebook.

-Getting ready for school? I asked.

-No, silly.  It’s the middle of the night. [not technically true] And it’s Saturday. [I had forgotten. Days of the week, for the time being, had become irrelevant]

She sat down on the bed next to me. I felt cruelly conscious of my nakedness under the white cotton sheet.

-Would you read something I’ve written? I could feel the tension in her voice.

-Of course. I set down my paper and put the coffee aside. Girlish, curvilinear handwriting. It was Harry Potter slash fiction, I was surprised and somewhat discomfited to discover.  Rather naive and unpolished, but surprisingly well-written. And kind of hot too. Her story was told from Hermione’s perspective, peeping through a hole in the wall as the evil professor Snape tormented and lambasted young Harry Potter, eventually making him bend over and drop his trousers for a bare-bottom spanking, and then poor Harry, red-faced and red-cheeked, was forced to suck Snape’s magnificent alabaster dick.

-Do you think I could ever be a writer?

-Absolutely.  Don’t let anyone discourage you.  Never stop writing.

-Read more.  Read it aloud.

She snuggled up to me like a big, friendly house cat, and I was painfully aware of the warmth of her young female body pressed up against mine.  I continued reading, this time out loud.  It was a shockingly detailed anatomical description of a blowjob, with Harry reluctant and ashamed at first, then becoming more and more relaxed and even eager as Snape took his pleasure in the young wizard’s mouth.

‘Hermione’s hand slipped between her kneeling legs and caressed the throbbing wetness between her thighs as she watched Harry’s head bob up and down, faster and faster, Snape snarling as he approached his climax.’

Freya nuzzled closer against me. Her leg was pressed against my own. I set down her notebook and put my arm around her shoulder. She rested her head on my shoulder. I could see my own cock clearly outlined in bas-relief under the clean white sheet. She slipped her little hand under the covers and tentatively stroked my naked thigh.

I kissed her.

She kissed me back, sweet, eager, and inept, throwing her whole being into it. She took my hand, guided it inside her pajama tops, and I was cupping her small, perfect breast. I tweaked the stiff little nipple, and she jumped, kissing me harder.

Emboldened, I slipped my other hand down the front of her pajama bottoms. She stiffened, her tongue frozen in my mouth. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath.  Her pussy was covered with impossibly soft fur, like the pelt of a baby seal. I parted the lips with my finger. She was very wet, hot and slippery.

Freya broke off our kiss, shook her head ‘no’, and took my wrist, removing my hand from down her pants. I felt chagrined, but she smiled up at me, and flipped the sheet back to reveal my erection, hard and swollen, bobbing slightly in time with my pulse, the bulbous red glans oozing a steady stream of sticky clear juice.

She grinned wolfishly, bent over, and kissed it, right on the head, licked the length of my shaft like a big hot popsicle, making my dick stand rigidly at attention.

She looked up at me as if to ask ‘is this okay?’ I did not tell her no.

She opened her mouth and swallowed my penis, as much of it as she was able. Maybe the top third fit into her mouth. I don’t think she had much experience sucking dick; what she was lacking in technique she made up for with enthusiasm. I lifted her pretty straight blonde hair aside so I could watch my cock being devoured by her hungry young lips.  She sucked on me like a piece of rock candy, like she was trying to get past the hard outer shell and at the sweet sticky nougat inside. Her mouth was closed around the head of my dick ferociously, as if she were trying to inhale me, vacuum-seal me, collapse my entire body from the cock on up. It took every ounce of what little remained of my self-control to not grab her by the back of the head and force her mouth all the way down my aching cock, shoving my dick down her throat and fucking her face until I came.

I imagined jumping up, yanking her pajama pants down, stuffing my cock up her juicy young pussy. I imagined fucking her hard and deep, jamming my finger up her tiny pink butt hole. I pictured her bouncing up and down on my cock, golden hair flying, miniature boobs jumping in time with my every thrust. I imagined covering her mouth with my own as she orgasmed, her arms wrapped around me and her lithe body trembling as she came; and I imagined coming inside her, my balls mashed up against her vulva, pumping her virgin pussy full to overflowing with my semen.

Instead, I grasped my own cock, wrapping my thumb and forefinger around the base and jerking off, with rapid butterfly strokes, into her eagerly sucking little mouth.

Somewhere in the far-off distance of the kitchen, I could hear one of her parents stirring. My balls were fat and heavy between my legs. My body clenched and spasmed, my orgasm tickling the base of my spine and curling my toes. I lifted my hips up off the bed, screaming silently.

Freya stayed with me, long after the orgasm had subsided, attached to my rapidly shrinking wet noodle like a nursing kitten, swallowing hungrily and milking every last drop of semen out of me. It was disconcerting like she was wringing out an used-up tube of toothpaste.

Someone turned on a television in another room. I heard the cheerful, vacuous voices of the morning news. Freya finally detached herself from my crotch, still grinning happily, straightened out her glasses and buttoned up the top of her pjs, which had somehow come undone. She took her notebook and her half-empty glass of orange juice and left me where I lay: a panting, limp, sticky, wet mess.

We all had breakfast together, crepes and vegetarian bacon. Promises to stay in touch, promises to come visit, well-wishes and offers of food to take with, home-made bread and organic butter, lunch for the road.

And then it was time for me to go. They walked with me out to my car.  Erich shook my hand, July hugged me, and then Erich gave in and hugged me. I could see Freya watching through the window in the solarium, but I couldn’t read her face. I pulled out of the driveway and turned right, out and away, their house swallowed up in the northwestern rainforest behind me.

Later, she will send me letters and emails; she will remember my birthday. I will hear about high school and boyfriends, and she will tell me about losing her virginity. She will ask me my opinion about colleges; I will read her rough drafts; she will confess to me that she loves anal sex; and one drunken horny night we will masturbate for each other on webcam. She will send me a signed copy of her first short story collection. Someday I will be invited to her wedding, and feel at once proud, awkward, out-of-place and disturbingly old as her friends and new husband address me as ‘Mister’.

But all that is in the future. Now I am just another car on the two-lane highway, another guy with a guilty conscience. It starts to rain in earnest, and I turn the wipers on high. The road is still blurrily obscured, and I curse the wiper blades before I realize that I am weeping.


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Barry’s Oasis

I snagged the first crap job that came my way, working the overnight shift at Barry’s Oasis, an independent filling station on Route 89, a couple miles out of town.  I picked up an used bicycle and a semi-furnished room in the basement of a sympathetic local chiropractor.  I closed my eyes, but I couldn’t sleep.  I tried to masturbate, but my cunt was dry as dust, and phantasmal redneck cops kept lurking on the edge of my imagination.

For a crap job, it really wasn’t half bad, except for the sleep deprivation, which gave me a constant upset stomach and a permanent feeling of jittery disorientation. I worked six nights a week, midnight to eight, with the occasional morning or afternoon shift thrown in just to spice things up.

Barry was a jack-Mormon with three different ex-wives and an epic beer belly that spilled out over his belt buckle and threatened to burst through his shirt.  Barry didn’t trust banks and dealt only in cash.  Every Sunday night he’d drop by in his Chevy Astro minivan and his black cowboy hat, open up the lock-box, and count out a stack of twenties.  That was our paycheck, and if it was short one or two bills from what we thought it should be, we knew better than to complain.  Barry didn’t trust dudes, he only ever hired chicks.  He hated black, gays, liberals, and Mexicans, and I was pretty sure he was dealing dope on the side.  Barry was a good old boy.

Tammy was my co-worker and nominal boss.  She was Barry’s ex-step daughter by way of his first marriage; she referred to him un-fondly as ‘Uncle Barry’.  She’d been working at the filling station almost two years and supposedly was night manager, but that didn’t mean she got paid any more than me.  She was seventeen, but looked twenty-five; and was close to being pretty in the same kind of way that David Bowie was close to being female.  She had almost-blonde hair, with bangs straight out of the ‘80s, hairsprayed into a wave, boobs that stuck out from under her coveralls like a pair of sno-cones, a sharp hatchet-face that usually looked angry even when she wasn’t, and a constellation of raised white scars all over her upper arms, neck and chest that looked like they had been put there with a knife.  Her highest ambition was to be a stripper in New York City.

There wasn’t much to do on the overnight shift.  Boredom was the hardest part of the job.  We didn’t get much car traffic because Barry didn’t take credit cards, and the big rigs knew better than to stop at the Oasis.  Occasionally a car would stop in, the driver too drunk or self-important to pump his own gas.  Other than that, we had to mop the floors; we had to pump a couple hundred gallons of regular over into the high-grade tank; we had to dump used motor oil into the sink-hole out back.  Otherwise, it was mostly just a matter of staying awake.  Sometimes one of us would watch the store while the other took a nap, but that was dangerous because it was all too easy for both of us to fall asleep, and there was no knowing how long we’d be out.  So mostly we sat around, drinking coffee (or in my case Diet Coke) while Tammy chain-smoked, and we talked.

“How’d you lose your virginity?” Tammy asked.  We were sitting outside on the curb underneath the No Smoking sign.  Tammy took her coffee black, no sugar.  She tossed her cigarette butt in the general direction of the self-serve island.  Above the mercury-vapor flood lights, a million stars stared down at us like silent witnesses.  I’d never been in a place with so many stars before.

“I was eighteen,” I said, “and it was in the front seat of my Honda Civic.  I was dating this guy JJ, a sophomore who was almost three years younger than me.  We were both virgins.  He had a really big dick, but I don’t think either of us realized just how big it was at the time.  Neither one of us had anything to compare it with.  JJ was very sweet and kind of shy and awkward, like an oversized puppy dog.  He was good.  I was his first ever girlfriend.  I taught him everything: how to kiss, how to touch me, how to lick… he was an eager student and a quick learner.”

I smiled at the memory of those orgasms in the dark inside of my car, JJ squatting between my thighs, my feet propped up on the dashboard, his tongue all over my clit while I writhed and wiggled in the purest ecstasy.  He’d get two or three of those long fingers up my pussy and another would be tormenting my asshole, and he’d just dance the tip of his tongue over my aching clitoris just the way I’d taught him.  He could do that for hours, he never seemed to get tired of it.  He’d make me come until I couldn’t come any more, leave me as limp as an unstrung marionette.

My pussy salivated at the memory.  I swished the sickly-brown liquid around the bottom of the cup, making the ice rattle.  “I got really good at sucking his dick,” I went on, “I mean I’d done it before, but I perfected my skills on JJ.  I got to where I could take the whole thing into my mouth; I got so I could suck him forever, keep him balanced right on the edge of coming without pushing him over the edge until I decided to.  Then he’d squirt his hot come into my mouth, he’d be practically weeping by this time and I’d just devour him, suck him all down until there was no more left to swallow…”

I was definitely moist by this time, wetter than I’d been in a lifetime.  My clit was poiking obnoxiously out.  I shifted the way I was sitting on the cement curb, surreptitiously squooshing my vulva, making my clitoris throb and pleasantly ache.

“I wanted him inside me.  He was nervous about it.  I’m not sure why.  Maybe he was scared of hurting me, maybe he was afraid he wouldn’t be good at it.  Maybe it was the last step for him toward becoming an adult and he didn’t feel ready.  I don’t know.  But I finally talked him into doing it with me.”

“We tried it with me lying on my back in the passenger seat and him climbing on top of me, but that felt really awkward and JJ was having trouble getting it in.” I smiled at that memory. “He kept rubbing his cock up and down my crotch, which felt amazing, but he couldn’t seem to find the hole.  It was driving me crazy.  I was about to reach down there, grab his dick and take matters into my own hands when all of a sudden his eyes got really wide, his body went all stiff and he choked out “Oh Shit” in this quiet little voice and then he squirted all over me.  It was more come than I’d ever seen: all over my pubes, my tummy, all the way up to my tits.  The stuff filled up my belly button and ran over the sides, it oozed down into my pussy.  JJ was mortified, stammering apologies even as his dick dripped more semen onto me.  He was embarrassed, terrified that I’d be pissed.  I thought it was funny and cute, and kind of sexy too.”

Tammy lit another cigarette.  I seemed to have her full attention.  The night was dead still.  We could hear the trucks away on the interstate, and the occasional whir of a bat buzzing by the big Oasis sign. There was nothing else.

“We made out for a while, and I made clear to JJ that I wasn’t angry at him, and he started to relax.  Then I went down on him until his dick was nice and hard again.  When he was fully erect, dick straining upward and quivering at my touch, we traded places.  This time he lay on his back in the passenger seat and I clambered up on top of him.  I took his cock in both hands and aimed.  It was trickier than I had imagined.  Finally I got us positioned right.  I guided the head of his cock in between my hungry lips.  It felt incredibly good right there in the doorway to my cunt.  My clit seemed to bulge out like a mini-hard-on of my own.  I could have easily gotten off just like that.  I bore down on him, trying to get the whole pulsating, living thing up inside me.  It hurt more than I had thought it would.  I could feel myself tearing, but even so I kept at it, lowering my body gingerly down onto his girth.  His eyes were wide, like an owl.  I couldn’t believe how fucking wet I was.  The deeper in I got, the more intense the pleasure was and the pain sort of faded away into the background.  And then he was all the way in, I could feel his balls up against my thighs, his pubes were mashed up with mine.  I started rocking back and forth on him, like I was riding a bull, building up to this massive come.  His big hands were squeezing my ass.  I reached down and started rubbing my clit, the whole area down there was just soaked in my juice, and that sent me.  I came harder than I’d ever come before.  I think I screamed.  I collapsed onto his sweaty bare chest, covering him in kisses.  I didn’t realize for a little while he’d come too, at the same time as me.”

“I bled like something out of a horror film.  I was on maxi-pads for like a week, walking bow-legged the whole time, but it was worth it.  He fucked me three or four more times after that.  I was training him up right, he was starting to get real good at it.  Then out of nowhere, JJ dumped me for a girl his own age.  My period came late, but at least it came.  I almost gave myself an ulcer waiting for it.”

“Nice,” Tammy said, grinding out her cigarette.  “Too bad he was a douche to you.”

“It’s ok.  I got over it.”

“Have you ever masturbated at work?”

“No.  Never.”

“I do it all the time.” Tammy smiled a crooked little smile.  “The girl who used to work here before you, we used to do it together sometimes, sitting across from each other right in the aisle.  She was a black chick.  It was pretty hot.”

Before I could even say anything, she shucked off her gray coveralls, and pulled the t-shirt off over her head.  She was wearing a plain beige bra and rainbow-striped panties.  She unsnapped her bra.  The words ‘Love Always’ were tattooed across her breasts in spidery blotchy blue letters.  Grinning wide, she slithered her panties down.  Where I’d expected to see a bush the same dishwater color as the hair on her head, there was nothing down there but soft bare skin.  Thick, purple labia flopped out of her pussy.  A clear string of wetness seeped out like a strand of spider web.  I could see her pink clit.

She did it right in front of me, legs spread wide apart, right there in the open on the cement curb under the harsh glare of the mercury vapor lights.  She held her cunt open with two fingers, making her clit stand out like a pencil eraser.  As I watched, enthralled, she spread her wetness slowly up and down, up and down, coating her entire vulva.  One finger started drawing little circles around her clitoris, slowly at first then faster and faster.  She locked eyes with me, biting down hard on her lower lip, and plunged two fingers deep into her pussy while her other hand kept busy, a hummingbird on her clit.  Her stomach heaved and contracted, and she lifted her naked ass up off the cement, fingers buried to the knuckle in her juicy cunt, her face a rigid mask of ecstasy.

When she was all done, she licked her fingers clean, like a fastidious cat, and lazily pulled her shirt and coveralls back on.  It was getting early.  The sky in the east was glowing pink.  To my sleep deprived eyes, all the colors seemed lurid and intense.   There were cars on the road now.  Our rush hour, such as it was, was about to begin.

“Shit man, I really needed that.  Thanks.” Tammy winked at me.  “’scuse me now while I go powder my nose…” She left me there sitting on the curb, horny and paralytic, as the first SUV rolled up to the full-service island.

That afternoon, in the stuffy semi-dark of my basement apartment, I tried to whack off.  My pussy was plenty wet, but I couldn’t quite push myself over that edge.  All I got was frustrated and sore.


“I saw Uncle Barry fucking another girl once, back when he was still married to my mother.”

It was just after two in the morning.  We hadn’t had a customer in over an hour, and we’d decided the floor could just mop its damn self.  We were sitting out back next to the dumpster, looking out over the sink hole, and the surreal nightscape of the desert beyond.

“I came home from school and my mom was still at work and Barry’s van was parked in the driveway.  I could hear them from all the way outside.  It sounded like someone was being murdered.  I stuck my head in the front door.  No one was there.  The noise was coming from the kitchen.”

Tammy got up, poured herself a fresh cup of coffee, snagged a pack of Camels from behind the counter.  I was sipping Diet Coke out of a straw.

“They were both naked.  He had this girl kneeling on a kitchen chair, bent over the back of it, her hair all over her face.  She wasn’t that much older than me.  I thought I recognized her, I thought she was in high school.  He was fucking her up the butt.  I had a really good view.  Her pussy was wide open, she was playing with herself while he fucked her.  She was screaming really loud, her throat sounded all raw, and he was pulling on her hair, but I didn’t think she was hating it one bit.  She had really big boobs and they were shaking and jiggling all over the place while they went at it.  Uncle Barry had these fat balls that hung down and slapped against her hairy pussy every time he shoved his dick into her.  All of a sudden he throws his head back and yells something like ‘HOLY SHIT I’M COMING! TAKE IT BITCH!!’ and he yanks his dick out of her ass and pumps it really hard in his hand and then he squirted white stuff all over her back.  She was breathing super hard and raspy and I knew exactly what her fingers were doing between her legs, I could even hear them squooshing in her cunt. “

She took a long drag off her cigarette.  “I thought it was the sexiest thing I had ever seen.  I stuck my hand down my pants and found out that my pussy was sopping wet.  It was wet like I’d peed myself.  While they calmed down and cleaned up and disentangled themselves, I made myself scarce.  I slipped out of the house and went for a long walk.  By the time I got back, Barry’s van was gone and the house was empty.”

“My friend Vanessa and me had been fooling around for a while already.  It had started off with us comparing bodies, checking out each other’s junk, and it was all pretty much downhill from there.  You know.  We started with kissing, touching, exploring, and before you knew it, we were both sucking pussy and licking clit like a couple of grade-A junior dykes.”  She grinned, and stuck out her tongue lewdly at me.  “Its funny, I always thought it would taste gross, but it turns out I didn’t mind it one bit.  I got really good at doing it, too.  I used to go over to her house, tell our moms we were doing homework, and then we’d lick each other out for hours on end.  I got to where I could make her come so hard, just using my tongue.  She’d be chewing her arm off trying to keep from screaming.  Her mom would be watching TV in the other room, and I’d have my head in between Vanessa’s long skinny legs, licking her sweet little twat like a dog at a water bowl, making her come and come and come again until she was sobbing, ‘til her whole body was shaking.”

“I was so jealous of Vanessa, that she could come like that.  I pretended to have one sometimes, to make her feel like she was accomplishing something, or just to get her to stop when it got to be too much, but really, even though what she was doing felt nice, I was pretty sure I’d never had an orgasm.  Maybe a little tingly feeling, but definitely nothing that would make me want to writhe and kick and scream.  I tried masturbating, but that was even worse.  It was like being on a roller coaster that only went up and up, and never over the hump and down.”

“So anyway, that same night after I caught Barry and that chick going at it, I went over to Vanessa’s house to do some ‘studying’.  I made her come so hard she fell off the bed and we both got the giggles something awful.  It’s a good thing her mom didn’t come check up on us… Vanessa was naked from the waist down, and my face was all slimy with her come.”

“When she went down on me, I asked Vanessa to stick the handle of her hairbrush up my butt.  She was all like, ‘Are you sure?  Really? Eww…’, but she went ahead and did it.  I think she was just as curious as me, really.  She got me all nice and wet with her tongue, then I rolled over and got on all fours on her bed, and she stuck that thing right up my asshole.  She wasn’t as gentle as she should have been, and when she jammed it in, I almost freaked out, almost couldn’t take it.  But then my body relaxed, and she pushed it the rest of the way in.  It felt weird in there, not bad at all.  Vanessa got the giggles all over again.  But then she started licking my cunt and playing with the hairbrush stuck up my ass, and I knew I had struck gold.  I just started fiddling my clit while she licked and butt-fucked me, and it happened.  It really was like fireworks, I just slipped over the edge, it felt like my body was exploding, it seemed to go on forever and ever.  I really was screaming into the bed sheets, and her mom did come and check up on us this time.  ‘We’re fine mom, just fooling around!’  Getting the hairbrush out was trickier than getting it in in the first place, and there was a little poop on the end.”

Tammy tossed her cigarette butt into the sinkhole and lit a new one.  “I think that really grossed her out.  It’s funny.  I’d go down on her whenever she wanted, even at school, even when she was on the rag, I didn’t care.  I’d even lick her asshole sometimes.  She loved that, but she wouldn’t admit it.  She’d never do that to me… I guess she thought it was weird or something.  But she sure loved having it done to her.  Then she goes and dumps me for the first guy who asks her out.  She dropped out of school.  Now she’s got a little girl of her own.”

“So what about you?” Tammy asked, blowing a white cloud of cigarette smoke into the night air, “Have you ever fooled around with another girl?”

“Oh once or twice,” I said, “My last real girlfriend developed this nasty habit of forging checks and got us in a heap of trouble.”

“Really? Do tell…”

“The cops busted us right in the middle of getting in on.  They banged in the door of her trailer, I don’t know if they had a warrant or anything, it doesn’t matter now.  Four big fat redneck cops, guns drawn like we were dangerous or something.  One of them was female, I remember thinking she had huge breasts.  They were there to arrest Marla, turns out she had written over a hundred thousand dollars in bad checks.  But first they wanted to see some action.

“Marla had been going down on me when they busted the door in, and they were all ‘Oh no, don’t stop, don’t mind us!’  I was sprawled out on the bed, totally naked, and Marla was just wearing panties, nothing else.  They all stood over us while she licked and fingered me, making nasty comments and laughing.  They all still had their guns out.  I don’t know about Marla, but I was freaked out, so scared I was shaking, sick to my stomach.  I couldn’t come, but her tongue was driving me ape shit!  This went on for what felt like forever, and by the end I was squirming and gibbering with frustration, which amused the cops to no end.”

“Then the lady cop found our toy box (‘searching for evidence’, she called it) and they rooted through our stuff, hooting and snorting at our toy collection, calling us ‘Lesbo Preverts’ and ‘Demented Little Bull Dykes’.  It was humiliating.  In the end they made me put on our strap-on, and handcuffed Marla to the kitchen sink.  The female cop yanked Marla’s panties down around her ankles.  Then one of the guy cops made me stick a butt-plug, lubed up with dish soap up her ass, and then they made me fuck her from behind while they all watched.”

“Marla was sobbing, weeping into the sink at this point, but her pussy was also super-wet, and I knew she was really turned on too.  The cops were all pointing their pistols at us, shouting ‘Faster!  Harder!  Fuck her!  Fuck the shit out of that little cunt!” So I did.  I fucked her as hard as I could.  The harder I fucked her, the louder the cops shouted and the more Marla cried, until the end, she was screaming hysterically, slamming back against my every thrust.  Between the two of us, we were about as wet as Lake Michigan.  I could feel the juices running down my legs.  I could tell Marla was right on the edge of coming, and then I realized that I was going to come too.  I’d never had an orgasm from fucking her before, but between the friction from the base of the dildo bumping up against my clit, and the sheer intensity of the situation, the cops all screaming at us with their guns still out; it just pushed me over the edge.  I grabbed Marla’s hips and jammed, as hard as I could.  Somewhere I was still aware of the cops and their guns, I think at least one of them had his dick out, and I was distantly aware of Marla rocking her way through an orgasm, but mostly I was just coming.”

“I think I blacked out a little bit, it was that intense.  The orgasm just rolled straight through me, and all I could do was hang on for the ride.  It was like a massive thunderstorm inside of me.  My nipples felt like they were going to pop right off my tits.  When I was finally done gasping and shaking, we were still surrounded by chortling cops, and Marla was a limp mass slumped into our sink.  The cops un-cuffed her, and let us pull some underwear on; then they handcuffed us both and threw us in the back of a squad car and drove us down to the station.  It was the last time that Marla and I were together.”

“They took her away somewhere, and threw me into a holding cell with a bunch of drunk housewives and hookers.  I sat in there all that night and all the next day, and then they released me.  Marla ended up going to prison.  I haven’t been able to get off, not at all, since that all happened.”

“Wow,” Tammy said, tossing the dregs of her coffee into the sink hole.  “That’s pretty fucked up.”

“Its ok,” I said, “I’m getting over it.”

“I had an abortion when I was fifteen,” she said, “I never told my mother.  Barry drove me to a clinic across the state line.”

We sat together in the dark for a long while, just sitting and listening to the night.  I could feel her body heat next to me.  I wasn’t exactly attracted to her, but I wondered, just wondered if…

And then a car pulled into the station and the spell was broken.  We got up and went out front.  A blue sedan was sloppily parked in front of the self-serve island.  We watched the guy fill his tank.  He was stumbling drunk; he had no business walking, never mind driving.  He went in and paid Tammy, went back to his car, came back and asked for the key to the bathroom.  I could smell the booze on his breath from across the floor.

While he was retching loudly in the men’s room, Tammy went through the contents of his wallet.  She extracted five twenties; gave me two, and tossed his wallet into the backseat of his car.  When the guy finally emerged from the bathroom, he returned the key, thanked us, and drove away into the night.

Tammy fetched us two Budweiser tall boys out of the cooler.  We sat out back and drank them together.  “Do you mind if I whack off?” she asked.  I didn’t mind at all.


I tried to masturbate again that day, but when I tried to picture Tammy’s head between my thighs, all I could see was those fat cops.  And they all had Barry’s fleshy pockmarked face.  I finally gave up in disgust and wrapped myself around a bottle of cheap red wine.

I was an hour late for work, and viciously hung over.  The bike ride in helped me sweat some of it out, but I was still hurting when I finally rolled into the oasis at one in the morning.  I was queasy and my eyeballs hurt and the world sort of shimmered through a vibrato haze.  I thought I might just vomit.  It was payday, and Barry’s tan Chevy Astro was parked by the door.  I had been afraid that I might have missed him, and missed getting paid for the week.  He might give me shit for showing up late, might well dock my pay, but at least I’d have cash in my pocket.

Barry was sprawled out on the tile floor, his white seersucker pants down around his ankles, his black Stetson sitting underneath the rack of Pringles and candy bars.  Under the blue glare of the fluorescents his skin looked like it was made of rubber.  His eyes were wide open and staring, but he wasn’t moving at all.  He wasn’t even breathing.  His cock was still erect, like a weird little mushroom sprouting pinkly from his hairy crotch.  It may not have been all that tiny in reality, but it was dwarfed by his massive beer belly and his pendulous ball sac.

Tammy was leaning against the counter, smoking a cigarette.  There were three fat lines of powdery white cocaine on the glass next to the register.

“He had a heart attack.  Or a stroke or whatever.  What’s the difference anyway?”

We opened up the lockbox.  There was close to eight thousand dollars in there.  We split it down the middle, even-steven.  Tammy took the contents of his wallet, a couple hundred bucks, a fat zip-lock full of blow, and the keys to Barry’s Astro.  She kissed me on the cheek, wished me luck, and took off in the van, headed for the interstate.

I watched her taillights until they disappeared into the night.

The winds of change were blowing in from the east along with the rising sun.  My head finally felt clear.  I biked back to the chiropractor’s house, past eerie spectral images of scrub pine and cottonwood, wreathed in shadow.  I hurriedly packed up a little backpack with a change of clothes, extra socks and underwear, some letters and my notebooks.  Grabbed my toothbrush and some tampons.  Then I ditched the bike into a drainage ditch,   hiked all the way over to the Trailways station in town, and bought myself a bus ticket.

I got on the first bus that pulled in, and I didn’t get off again until I was Someplace Else.


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Artificial Alan

My brand-new Artificial Alan arrived on a Saturday morning, by way of an old UPS truck, converted over to hydrogen fuel cells, spray-painted Day-Glo orange, and double-parked in front of my building.

I’d tracked him in real time from the factory in Bangalore where he’d been assembled, to the integration center in Dublin; from there through Port Newark and then to a warehouse in Brooklyn where he had languished for two whole days.  It had taken a phone call –a phone call!– to jumpstart the process.  And now here he was, just as promised!

Leaning over the balcony rail, I watched the delivery guy load the large, square cardboard box off the back of his truck and onto a handcart.  Don’t. You. Fucking. Drop. It.

It seemed to take forever for him to get to my apartment.  I live sixteen floors up, in a building that was once an office tower. The owners had abdicated years ago, and the elevators have been out of service since long before I moved in.  That’s part of the price you pay for living rent free.  Another is the lack of heat and air conditioning.  Even so, it was taking unreasonably long.  After all this, it wasn’t getting delivered to the wrong apartment, was it?  My poor pussy cringed at the very thought.

Finally, the rap at the door.

The delivery guy was a rasta dude, well over six feet tall, in a blue jumpsuit with nothing on underneath.  He was really ripped, black muscles tensing and bulging.  He was covered in sweat from the climb, and smelled like a sexy mixture of ganja, male perspiration, and incense.  If I was one of those sassy size-zero girls in the tri-dee pornos I’ve gotten so addicted to, that is where I would have jumped him.

Instead, I just signed for the package, which was surprisingly heavy, and thanked him for bringing it all the way up.  I tipped the guy 500 Yucks, greasy, tissue-thin paper money, and he grinned and bobbed his head knowingly at me.

Holy over-packaging!  The cardboard box was full of peanuts. Excavation revealed a knife-resistant plastic blisterpack, which enclosed a styrofoam clamshell which finally contained my new shrink-wrapped Artificial Alan.

He was beautiful, of course.  I’d selected the inputs myself; an algorithmically extruded amalgamation of Sonny Chiba, Clint Eastwood, and Toshiro Mifune, with just a touch of a young Will Smith thrown in for spice.

It was a pity I’d only been able to afford the head.  But hey, I wait tables for a living.

The instructions said he had to charge for six hours before the first use.  Hrrmph, they didn’t mention that in the sales brochure.  Oh well.  I had to go to work anyway.  I sat him on my coffee table (read: executive desk truncated with a Sawzall), and plugged him into a wall socket; got dressed and threw my work clothes in a carry-along bag.  The Crazy Lady is only three blocks from my tower, but man, those stairs are a bitch!

I thought about him all day while I made coffee and delivered tiny fried chicken sandwiches to Asian men in identical prefab suits.

When I got home, the LED at the base of his neck was glowing solid green.  I thought about taking a shower first, but I’d had quite enough anticipation.  He was an artificial.  He wouldn’t mind a little sweat, would he?

I thumbed the ON switch, and there was a barely audible hum as he powered up.  I held my breath.  Please work.  Please, please don’t Bill Gates on me.  Finally, his eyes blinked open.  They were big, soft oak brown eyes, with specks of gold in the irises.  They looked around the room, the big empty room still strewn with packing material, and then settled on me.  He smiled, and I felt myself blush.

“Are you my End User?” he asked, eyebrows raised in a question mark, “You’re quite lovely.”

I blushed and beamed despite myself.  Getting all hot and bothered over compliments from a machine.  Ha!  “Oh, you’re just programmed to say that…”

“No, I’m serious,” he said, “We did all our beta integration on Artificial Angies.  They’re just a bunch of Barbie Doll clones.  No personality.  I find you much more attractive.  I’ll bet you’re a really good kisser…” he paused, as if embarrassed “…I hope that’s not too forward.”

“Not at all,” I said, tentatively stroking his cheek.  His flesh was warm and soft, with just a hint of stubble, as if he had shaved early that morning.  I lifted him up and brought him to my lips.

He was a really good kisser: passionate, eager, exploring me with just enough tongue and playful nips and tugs from his perfect teeth.  Holding him up to my face felt awkward and got uncomfortable fast, so I set him on the couch, and we made out like that for a while.  I ran my fingers through his hair, which was thin, fine and clean.

“I’d like to see your breasts” he said, “if you don’t mind.”  It was cute to see him blush.  They’d engineered it perfectly.

“I don’t mind one bit,” I said, peeling off my work shirt and bra.  I fed him my boobs, which he attacked with unabashed joy.  It must have looked ridiculous, from a bird’s-eye view; a disembodied head sucking my nipples pink and hard until they stuck out like gumdrops; but I didn’t care.  I for one was having a blast!

“Would you like to go down on me?” I asked, already knowing the answer, “Would you like to lick my pussy?”

“I’d love to!” he grinned up at me, “I’m equipped with the new mimetically-programmed advanced cunnilingus routine… I’m dying to try it out on you.”

I shucked off my black skirt and tossed my damp panties in the general direction of the laundry basket.  I’ve never put up anything to cover the windows, and I’m always wandering around the apartment in the nude.  I’ve often fantasized about my neighbors; other people in the high rise towers around mine, watching me through high power binoculars.  Sometimes I masturbate to that, putting myself on display for the empty window.  Well, if anyone was watching that Saturday afternoon, they were in for a show!

He licked and kissed and nibbled my upper thighs, assiduously avoiding my needy parts, tormenting me with a discipline no flesh-and-blood lover of mine had ever demonstrated.  It took all the discipline I had to not grab him by both ears and mash him into my cunt.

Finally, when I really couldn’t bear the teasing one more instant, when I really was about to mash his mouth into my sopping wet crotch, he at long last dove in.

His slithering tongue found its way through my slick folds.  He methodically explored my pussy, tracing that impossibly long and agile tongue all the way from the top of my slit, carefully avoiding my clitoris, down the length and breadth of my vulva and beyond, dancing merrily around and then on my asshole.  I squirmed and giggled as his tongue invaded my butt.  GOD, he was good!

Then he traced his way back up toward my clit.  Never actually on that sensitive flesh, his flickering tongue weaving in close, but never quite touching me, always just a Planck length away from those critical nerve endings.  My clit strained outward.  With two fingers, I squeezed and separated, offering myself to him.  He finally accepted my offer, the soft wet flat of his tongue pressing oh so gently against my hyper-excited button, moving in infinitesimally small circles; up and down, left and right; and I exploded, bucking and shaking, squeezing him hard between my thighs. He kept licking, tracing those exquisite little circles.  A human would have had to come up for air, but not Alan.  I gave myself over to it, the orgasm broke over my body like a rogue wave, throwing me tumbling through the surf, gasping for air.

His face was all sticky, and he was smiling, a huge goofy smile, when I lifted him up and placed him back on the coffee table.

“How was that?” he asked, “You’re not going to mail me back to Dublin and those awful Angies, are you?”

“That,” I said, still trying to catch my breath, my body still quivering through residual aftershocks, “that was fucking amazing!”

“What would you like to do now?” he asked, “I could start teaching you French.  Or I could read you some Shakespeare.  I have the complete sonnets on file.”

“Actually,” I said, stretching lazily and spreading my legs wide.  I traced a finger up and down my pussy.  Wet.  “Actually, I thought we’d try doing that one more time.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” he said.  I was tweaking my nipples, rolling them between thumb and forefinger.  I hoped someone was watching through binoculars.  This was too good.

“You know,” Alan went on, “If you got me the Arms and Torso Accessory Kit, I could give you a nice back rub… or a sound spanking.”

Actually, I’m saving up for a Plug-in Penis Pack.  It’s supposed to plug into the abdomen, but it can be used separately too, with a wireless connection.  You get to specify the exact length and girth you want, and you can choose from 52 different anatomical archetypes, erect and flaccid, with a 5% randomizer built in just to keep it spicy.  When you’re ready to feel your Artificial Alan come, the user-actuated pseudo-orgasm routine features a hypoallergenic butterscotch-flavored semen analog.  And… it vibrates.


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Linguini Puttanesca

I was just pulling the lasagna out of the oven, when I heard the front door open and shut.

“Hi Honey, I’m home!”

That was code.  That particular phrase meant Amy had not come home alone.  My nipples stiffened and my pussy twitched in anticipation.  I wondered what her latest toy would be like.

I set the dish down on the counter to cool and went out into the front room, where they were standing, dripping onto the hardwood floor.  Amy was helping the new girl off with her streaming rain jacket.

Oh, this one was cute! She had a mass of curly blondish-reddish hair that was sweetly straggly and damp at the moment.  She had these enormous brown eyes with long dark lashes.  Her makeup was a little smeared.  She had a curvy figure, and nice meaty hips.  I could see her bra inside her white button-down shirt.  She caught me checking out her bust and looked down shyly.  She was wearing pink corduroy pants.  She was young, college-aged.  Early college aged.  She probably went to the university where Amy taught and I worked.  I wondered if she was a student in one of Amy’s classes.  Most likely.

Did she have any idea what she was getting into?

The dvd I’d ordered had come in the mail.  Amy stuck it in the player while I served up lasagna and poured wine.  Skeevy- looking Eastern European dudes with greasy hair and oversized cocks were skewering various pale-skinned big-bosomed American chicks.  As we all sat on the couch and ate dinner, a pretty young thing was fucked in her mouth, her cunt, and her asshole all at the same time.  To all appearances, she was enjoying the hell out of it.  I know I was.  My panties were sticky and wet, and I was all too aware of New Girl on the far side of the couch.  I was dying to know what was going on inside those pink corduroy trousers.

“Do you guys… uh, watch a lot of this kind of stuff?”

“Oh yeah,” Amy answered, mouthful of hot pasta, “Most of the girl-on-girl stuff is just too softcore.”  A girl on the screen was busy jamming two jumbo cocks up her asshole.  She couldn’t have been older than eighteen.  Where do you learn to do that kind of thing?

Right after dinner, New Girl politely excused herself.  She had class in the morning, she had to study, whatever…  She pulled together her things and hustled for the front door.

Amy got there first, and intercepted her with a kiss right on the lips.  New Girl seemed stiff and shocked at first, but quickly melted into her arms.  They kissed for a long time, standing by the door, lips pressed together, lost in a world of their own.  Amy’s hand found New Girl’s generous ass, and squeezed her through her pink pants.  New Girl wrapped her arms around Amy’s shoulders, pressing herself even closer against my girlfriend.  They looked absolutely delicious together.

Later on that night, we lay in bed together, basking in the warm afterglow of a righteous fuck session.  We were tucked in together like a pair of spoons, her small firm boobs squooshed against my shoulder blades, her tidy black bush pressed up against my butt, one arm draped around me, playing idly with my still wet and slippery cunt.

“What was the new girl’s name again?” I asked sleepily.

“Laura.” Amy sounded smug.

“Do you think she’ll ever come back, or did we scare her away for good?”

“Oh, she’ll be back.  She’s definitely coming back.”

Two days later, Amy didn’t seem so confident about it.  She seemed positively distraught.  Which was kind of ok by me, because when Amy gets distraught, she tends to go on cleaning binges.

That Saturday we were hanging out on the couch in out jammies, sipping coffee and watching old Scoobie Doo cartoons and giggling about Daphne, and what we’d do to her given half a chance, when there was a nervous tap at the door.  It was such a quiet tap I almost missed it, but Amy was all over it.  She sprang the door like a rat trap.

It was Laura, looking cuter than cute in a little purple cami top, soft and baggy blue jeans, and a black beret that was perched on top of her blondish mass of curls.  Her cheeks were all fat and puffy like a chipmunks’, and her nose was a little button.

“Oh, hi Amy,” she said, eyeing me nervously.  (‘Honey,’ I thought, ‘It ain’t me you gotta be worried about.’)  “I was just wondering if I could hang out…?”

Amy went straight into full-on Queen Bitch From Hell mode.  It’s always amazing to watch; it happens so fast, it’s like someone throws a Frankenstein switch inside her.  You could almost see the electricity coursing through her slender body.

“HANG OUT?  You want to hang out?!  Tell you what Sweet Cheeks, I wanna see those titties of your hanging out!”

“Um, I don’t know…”

“Ok, fine!” Amy snarled, “don’t let the door smack your ass on the way out then.”

Laura stood, hesitant in the open doorway.  Her lips seemed to tremble.  Then she sort of half-shrugged, and pulled her cami off over her head.  Her boobies really were gorgeous: grapefruit sized, symmetrical, round and perky, with big pale areola, and little upturned nipples.

Amy contemptuously flicked one of those nipples with her middle finger and I involuntarily flinched.

“Do you want to lick my pussy Laura?” Amy asked sweetly.

“Oh God, YES!”   Laura dropped to her knees right on the doorstep and started fumbling with the drawstring of Amy’s jammies.   A guy walking past on the sidewalk did a double take, took a few steps and did a triple-take.

“Oh no,” Amy said, taking a step back, “You haven’t earned the right to lick my pussy yet.  Why don’t you just come on in?”

Underneath her baggy blue jeans, Laura was wearing a skimpy pair of black bikini panties.  These were soon lying on our living room floor.

Laura stood naked in between the sofa and the tv, looking beautiful and vaguely self-conscious.  I don’t know how she could do that; I can’t deal with being naked in front of strangers.  I even get uncomfortable changing in the gym locker room.

She did have a lovely body though.  Her breasts seemed to defy gravity; she had little ears, full lips; a sweet, rounded stomach, and her fluffy pubic hair was the same golden red color as the hair on her head.  Her legs were thick and shapely.  ‘I wouldn’t mind’, I thought to myself, ‘Exploring those curves a little on my own…’  I realized that I was staring hungrily, and that my pussy was getting all moist and excited.  Fortunately Amy didn’t notice me drooling.  She was really on a tear.

“The first thing you need, Little Miss Thang, is a good sound spanking.”  Amy kind of reminds me of a cat: a sleek, lithe black cat.  She isn’t tall, but she looks it.  Her body is spare, lean, compact, from her petite little boobs to her tight little butt.  She’s an amazing lover, and my best friend, but she’s also a little scary.

“What did I do wrong?” Laura asked, looking a little panicky.

“Oh, nothing in particular,” Amy said, “I just want to put you in your place.”

Laura got down on her hands and knees on our hardwood floor, boobs hanging down, curly blonde hair falling all over her face.  She had a really gorgeous plump pale ass.


And then there was a big red handprint on one of those sweet, virginal cheeks.

“Ow!  Hold on, that really hurt!”


And then there were two livid red handprints on Laura’s butt, one on each cheek.

“Ow!  God, I’m serious.  That really stings!”

“I know.” Amy said, “Now start counting out loud.  If you lose track, we’re starting over.”

Her boobs and butt-cheeks jiggled delightfully every time Amy landed a blow.  Tears were streaming down her face, but Laura kept her teeth gritted fiercely and made it almost all the way up to twenty before she completely broke down sobbing and begging Amy to stop.  Her ass was a mess; rosy red and covered in raised, hand-shaped welts.

Amy gave her a break to go use the bathroom and get cleaned up.

“So whaddya think?” she gushed at me, “Isn’t she just the cutest little thing ever?”

I could only agree, mutely nodding my head so my voice wouldn’t betray me.

When Laura came out of the bathroom, Amy fastened a black leather choker around her neck.  “You’ll wear this” she announced, “As long as you continue to be with me.  It will symbolize your submission and your devotion to me.”

Laura sure looked really fetching, standing there all naked with that black collar around her neck.

When Amy told her to get down on her knees, she knelt, just like a good little slave girl.  Amy had brought our toy chest out of the bedroom.  She selected one, a red silicone vaguely penis-shaped number, and started it vibrating.

“Here you go Sugarplum,” Amy cooed, rubbing the end of the buzzing vibrator up and down Laura’s furry pouting slit, “Open wide!”

She slid the toy straight up Laura’s wet pussy, and I had a fantastic view of it too.  Her cunt seemed to hungrily devour the toy.  I could see her wetness oozing out.  I could see her little pink clit.  It was really fucking hot.

“Now then,” Amy went on, selecting a large chrome butt-plug out of the box, “Do you take it in the ass?”

I wouldn’t have thought it possible for someone to blush when she was kneeling naked in front of a pajama-clad domme and her girlfriend; naked, collared, with a big buzzing toy shoved up her puss; but blush Laura did, bright and red.  “Oh, um… I’ve never…”

“Well now you’re going to…” Amy was slathering the metallic toy in lube.  She spread Laura’s poor abused butt-cheeks apart.  Her anus looked tiny and vulnerable like, well, like a pink little rosebud.  I wasn’t at all sure that toy was going to fit up there.

Amy ran the tip of the toy up and down Laura’s butt-crack, finally pressing it up against her crinkled little asshole.

“Um,” Laura said nervously, “I’m not so sure that things’ gonna fi… EEEEP!!”

Amy grabbed a fistful of Laura’s curly locks, and then jammed the butt-plug straight up her ass.  The red vibrator threatened to pop right out of Laura’s cunt.  “Fuuuuck!”  she reached between her legs, hurriedly sliding it back up inside.

Smiling beatifically, Amy retrieved a bottle of red nail polish from the side table.  “You Lucky Duck,” she addressed Laura, “you get to paint my toenails for me!  Do a nice job now.  And if either one of those toys pop out while you’re working, you can just get dressed and get your sweet tush out of here.  And don’t bother coming back either.”

So we sat on the couch sipping our coffee and watching Velma, Daphne and the gang while poor Laura did an absolutely faultless job of painting Amy’s toes Ravishing Red; at the same time managing to keep her pussy and asshole sufficiently clenched to keep either of the toys from popping out.  I was impressed.

When Laura had finally blown her toes dry, Amy relented.  She removed the butt-plug and vibrator and patted our girl fondly on the head.  “You can get dressed now,” she said, “Be back here tomorrow night at eight.  Don’t even think about being late.”

As soon as the door closed behind her, Amy was all over me, practically ripping my pajamas off my body.  “Isn’t she hot?!  Isn’t she sweet?!  Isn’t she sexy?!  And she’ll do anything I tell her to!!”  Amy’s fingers found my cunt, which was, by this time, absolutely drenched.

Her long clever fingers treated me so nicely it would have been selfish not to return the favor with my tongue.  We didn’t even leave the couch until mid-afternoon.

When Laura came by the next day, I was in the kitchen, whipping up a chicken pesto thing with sundried tomatoes and artichoke hearts.  It was a recipe that had been handed down to me from my grandmother.  I turned the gas down to a simmer and slipped over to the bedroom to watch the action.

Laura stood at attention at the foot of the bed, looking soft and lovely and naked in nothing but her black leather collar.  Amy was lounging on top of the sheets in jeans and a black t-shirt.

“Do you want to see me naked?” Amy asked, “Do you want to see my pussy?”

“Oh yes!” Laura replied earnestly, “Oh yes please!”

“Good answer.”  Amy shucked off her tight jeans and stretchy t-shirt.  As usual she was wearing nothing underneath.  Her pretty little labia pouted out underneath her fine black triangle of pubic hair, and her nipples stuck out excitedly.

“Oh my goodness!” Laura gasped, “You look delicious!  I seriously cannot wait to lick that kitty of yours!”

“Well,” Amy said, “You’re just going to have to wait a little longer.”  She got up off the bed and retrieved her whacking stick from the corner where it was leaning.  Amy’s whacking stick is a thin piece of bamboo, about the length of a pool cue, but more flexible.  I’ve seen what it can do, and I winced in advance on Laura’s behalf.

“Here,” she said, handing the stick to Laura, “Balance this on your head… good girl!”

She climbed back onto the bed, spreading her long skinny legs wide, petting her little pussy up and down.  “Like what you see?  Good.  You can masturbate too, you know.  Just don’t come.  One little orgasm and your pretty white butt is out of here!  Here, use this.”

She reached over to the bedside table and tossed Laura one of our vibrators, a pink ridged one with a delicious upward curve to it.  Laura caught the toy, but in the process the whacking stick fell off her head and landed on the floor with a clatter.  Uh-oh.

“Well, that’s one!” Amy stopped fingering herself and lazily licked her fingers clean.  “Would you like it across your tits or on your butt?”  Laura’s behind was a grotesque Rorschach blot of purple and blue bruises from the previous day.

“Um,” she said hesitantly, “on the boobs, I guess.”

“Excellent!” Amy sprung out of bed and picked the switch up off the floor.  “Stand against the wall and clasp your hands behind your neck.”

Laura looked nervously over at me, and then complied.

WHISH! The switch carved an arc through the air.  CRACK!  I grimaced, gritting my teeth in sympathy, but I couldn’t look away.

Laura fell to her knees, clutching her breasts and wailing incoherently.  Amy let her weep and writhe for a long minute.

“Up!” she said, “Get back up.”  She handed Laura the vibrator, and placed the stick carefully back on her head, where it wobbled precariously.  “As you were.  Please, do continue.”  And she climbed back onto the bed, dipping her long fingers back inside her wet, swollen, excited little pussy.

Tears were still streaming down Laura’s face.  There was a livid red line across her breasts, precisely intersecting one of her nipples, narrowly missing the other.  A few scarlet drops of blood leaked out along the edges of the wound.  She was watching Amy masturbate as if she were hypnotized, slowly drawing little circles on her cunt with the humming pink vibrator.

Amy was very obviously enjoying the show.  Her pussy was spread wide open and was soaking wet, the black hairs slick with her juice.  Her clit stood out like a fat pink marble.  She slid two fingers up inside herself, all the way up to the knuckles.  She seemed to savor the sensation.  “Go on,” she told Laura, “put it up inside.”

Laura slid the buzzing toy slowly and carefully up her own pussy.  There was a clatter as the switch fell off her head once more.

“Oh dear,” Amy said, grinning like a cat, “Well, that’s two.  Turn around and face the wall dear.”

Wide-eyed and trembling, Laura did as she was told.  I couldn’t watch.  I closed my eyes.  There was another SWISH! CRACK! and then a piteous howl of misery from Laura.  When I opened my eyes she was once again standing at the foot of the bed, trying to get the whacking stick to balance atop her head.  Amy had three fingers up her own juicy pussy and was rubbing her clit delightedly.

Laura achieved balance with the switch, and again picked up the vibrator and carefully inserted it.  Her own pussy was literally dripping wet.  A long, silvery strand of come leaked out of her like a spiders’ web.

I couldn’t watch any more.  I left the bedroom and went into the study and turned on the computer.  I sat down to do some writing and tried to ignore the noises coming from our bedroom.  Amy is the most multi-orgasmic girl I’ve ever met, and she can be quite vocal about it.  Some of the screaming was Amy getting off; the other thinner, more ragged screams were the suffering of Laura.  It was distracting, to say the least.  I couldn’t write a damn thing, so I gave up trying and just surfed porn.

A fully-dressed and defeated-looking Laura emerged from the bedroom a couple hours later, followed by a naked and triumphant-looking Amy.  “Come back Friday morning!” she told Laura brightly, “And do try not to sit down too much between now and then!”

She turned to me: “You.  Bed.  Now!”

I swear, that woman has the tongue of a freaking iguana!  She knows exactly how to lick me, and which buttons to push.  I was already turned on, between the internet porn and the scene she and Laura had just done, I was really primed; and Amy made the most of it.  She licked me inside and out, had me begging her to finish me, and when she finally brought me off, it was explosive.  I collapsed on the bed underneath her, a big sweaty sticky mess.

“Oh My God that was so hot!” Amy lounged next to me, curled up against my body like a housecat.  “I think I’m going to make her shave her head.”

“Oh Amy, but she has beautiful hair!”

“Well yes she does, doesn’t she…  We’ll give it to a cancer survivor for a wig.”

“That’s horrible!  Why would you do that to her?”

“Because I can.  It’s so sexy!  I’ll shave her head,” she said decisively, “and then I’ll fuck her up the ass with my strap-on.  And then maybe I’ll let her lick my little kitty.”

Man, Amy really was hell on wheels.

On Friday morning when Laura showed up, I kept myself busy in the kitchen.  I tried to ignore the noises emanating from the bedroom.  My pussy, however, refused not to listen.  My clit was obnoxiously swollen and perky inside my pants.

I heard Amy go to the bathroom.  “Oooh Laura, could you come in here for one second?” she called sweetly.

“I tried to pee standing up,” I heard her say, “and I guess I made a bit of a mess… would you be a dear and clean up for me?”

“No!  Not like that!  Silly girl, put the sponge down.  Now get down on your knees and use your tongue… that’s a good girl!”

Amy poked her head into the kitchen, fully-dressed and chipper looking.  She had a lecture class that afternoon.  “I’ve got to go teach.  Would you mind handcuffing our play girl to the coat rack in the closet for me when she’s done?”

She kissed me on the cheek and squeezed my boob.

“See you later on,” I said, “Good luck!”

Laura was down on her hands and knees next to the toilet.  There was a good sized puddle next to the toilet.  Laura was actually licking the black tiled floor.  Amy’s an amazing woman, she has an incredibly hot body and she’s a tornado in bed, but I can’t imagine putting up with that kind of crap just to sleep with her.  But then again, she’s never asked me to.  She calls me her little vanilla cookie.

A dildo with a long horsehair tail was buried in Laura’s butt.  It waved fetchingly whenever she moved.  The bruises on her bottom were fading, but a half-dozen wicked lines from the whacking stick criss-crossed both buttocks and looked like they’d be marking her for a while still.

“You don’t have to do that anymore,” I said, “Come on, have a cup of coffee.  I’ll clean that up with a mop later on.”

Laura looked up at me gratefully.  Her frizzy blonde hair had fallen forlornly across her face.  “Really?  That would be so awesome…  Do you have any herbal tea?”

I made myself another cup of joe, and brewed Laura a hot cup of Lemon Zinger.  We sat together in the kitchen.  She was still naked, and she still had the dildo crammed up her ass.  My clit wasn’t about to let me forget it either.

“So,” she said, “are you going to handcuff me in the closet now?”

“Only if you want me to.”

“Gosh,” she bit her lip and stretched, which made her boobs stand up even more.  The purple bruise from Amy’s stick looked somehow deliciously sexy on her big round tits.  “You know, I haven’t had normal sex in so long, I don’t even remember what it feels like…”

“You mean with a guy and a penis?”

She looked me right in the eye.  “You know what I mean.” She unfastened her black collar and set it on the kitchen counter.

We tumbled into bed together.  She was naked and I was dressed.  Laura seemed to take a great deal of pleasure in undressing me.  She grinned and giggled and kissed me all over as she removed each article of clothing.

I hadn’t touched another woman at all in the three years that Amy and I had been dating.  It was shockingly different with Laura.  She was all softness and curves, gentle sweet tenderness.  This in contrast to Amy, who was firm, lithe, and aggressive, like a weasel in heat.

The way she lavished affection upon my breasts when she pulled my bra off made me feel like a supermodel.  And when she finally got around to removing my panties, it felt like somebody had melted ice cream inside them.

At last, she laid that curly blonde mop of hair on my lap and very sweetly started licking my pussy.  What she was doing felt absolutely heavenly, but she didn’t know her way around my body like Amy did, and for a while I wasn’t sure she was going to be able to make me come.  She kept flicking my aching straining clit with the tip of her tongue, punctuated with slurps up and down my sopping wet pussy.  It felt incredible, but it just wasn’t going to push me over that edge.  She looked so cute doing it though!  I adored the way her horsehair tail wagged as she licked.

She switched techniques, coming up grinning and sticky from between my legs.  She inserted one finger in my asshole, something that Amy never does, and slipped two fingers up my cunt, and started fucking me hard and fast, making a kind of ‘come hither’ beckoning motion with her fingers as she banged me.  That totally pushed me over.  Laura saw me coming and started fucking me even harder, fingers buried deep in both my holes, tits swinging wildly.  Her enormous brown eyes were locked on mine as she worked.  I came hard, moaning and writhing, my toes curling and my breath coming in ragged little gasps.

Then I went down on her.  It was weird to taste someone other than Amy.  Laura tasted different, sweeter.  She was different.  Same species, different flower.  I put my all into licking her out, and she responded beautifully, spreading her legs impossibly far apart for me, running her fingers through my hair, bucking and crooning softly.  I very nearly made her come on my face, but she had other ideas.

She lay on her tummy, and I knelt over her.  I had one hand under her pelvis, where my fingers lay on her horny little clit; the other hand grasped the dildo in her asshole.

I fucked her ass hard with the dildo, harder than I would have thought possible, and let her slippery clit just glide all over my fingers.  Laura buried her face in the pillow and came and came, like a runaway freight train on a steep downhill grade.

When it was all over, we took a shower together and got dressed.  Amy was due back from class soon.  Laura gave me a big hug and a kiss and said goodbye.  I saw her a few times, over the next couple years around campus, but we never spoke to each other again.

When Amy got home and saw the slave collar on the kitchen counter and nobody shackled up in the closet, she asked me what had happened.  I told her the truth; that Laura had left and hadn’t told me where she was going.

“Oh well, her loss.” Amy sighed, and promptly went on a cleaning binge, fishing the vacuum out and going at the rugs with a vengence.  One of the many fringe benefits to living with Amy is that our apartment could pass the white-glove test any day of the week.  “Pity,” she sighed again, “I was looking forward to getting a workout with my strap-on tonight.”

“Well you still might get one!” I said, wiggling my butt seductively.

“Oooh goody!” she smiled, “I love you!”

Amy hugged me hard and I squeezed her back, feeling only a little bit like a cheating, two-timing whore.

“So,” she asked, her hands still cupping my ass, “What’s for dinner tonight?”

“Linguini puttanesca.”

“Mmm.  Delicious!”


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Birthday Brunch

“Old… Used up… All alone…”

It was my first birthday as a single man, the first birthday I could remember that I’d be spending on my own.  I sluggishly rolled over and looked at the clock.  8:30. Too early to start drinking?  Well, I sure didn’t feel like jerking off.

From somewhere across the bedroom floor, my phone jangled obnoxiously.  I stumbled around looking for it, before I retrieved it from the pocket of the pants I had been wearing yesterday.  It was a number I didn’t recognize.  Who the hell would be calling me? Especially at this hour on a Saturday?

“Hi!” The voice on the other end was female and chipper.  “What are you up to this morning?”


“Aww, don’t do that.  Get up!  Get dressed!  We’re taking you out for brunch!  Meet us over at Union Square in half an hour.”

“Um, who is this?”

“Kira!  …from work?  Get your pants on!”

Kira from work was kind of a friend of mine, a friend in that we were friendly to each other at work, but we’d never hung out before.  She worked in the IT department, and I’d always kind of assumed she was a dyke.  She was a pixie of a girl who looked tinier than she really was.  She biked to work every day, and carried a big olive messenger bar with punk rock stickers plastered all over.  She had short, spiky hair that changed color on a daily basis, and a tattoo of a risqué art-nouveau wood nymph on her shoulder (it peeked out from under her t-shirt, and when I’d asked her about it, she had yanked off her shirt and shown me the whole thing.  Definitely not a work-safe tattoo.)  Her brown eyes flashed whenever she was excited or angry.  She reminded me of a wood elf.  I always found myself double checking to see if she had pointy ears.

Well, what the hell.  I pulled myself together, took a shower and scraped the stubble off my face, and hauled my skinny white butt over to Union Square.

They were waiting for me.  Kira was wearing forest-green pants and a black stretchy t-shirt that emphasized her perky little boobs.  Her hair was freshly copper-colored, and her eyes sparkled wickedly.  Once again I had to check for pointy ears.

She’d brought two friends with her: Mitch, another guy from the IT department, outrageously tall and skinny and pale; and his girlfriend Faye, a roly-poly blonde girl with soft curly locks, big boobs that threatened to fall out of her flannel shirt, a large round butt, and a big honest smile that pushed her from frumpy all the way into the realm of beautiful.

“So how old are you today, man?” Mitch asked me.

“Old,” I responded, “older than dirt.”

“Oh, cheer up, Grumpypants!” Kira interjected, “You don’t look a day over forty!”

We walked south, and a few blocks east, and ended up at a French Café that was only just opening up.  We were the only customers.

They sat us at a big round booth in the corner.  The waitress, a skinny girl with black hair, high cheek bones, multiple earrings, and a charming French accent, took our order.  Coffee and Bloody Marys all round.  She went away to get our drinks.  She had a sassy little French ass inside her faded blue jeans.

“Excuse me for a second” Kira said, and then she disappeared under the table.


The words flashed dumbly through my brain as Kira elbowed her way between my knees and started tugging at my zipper.  Mitch and Faye appeared to be smirking as if they were in on a joke.  Down underneath the table, Kira had successfully gotten my zipper down and was working on extracting my cock.  I was too flabbergasted to even begin to be hard.

She sucked it into her mouth like a floppy wet noodle.  I jumped, and Faye giggled.  Just about then our waitress came back with a tray of drinks and asked if she could take our order.

Mitch and Faye ordered omelets.  I managed to stammer out that I’d like French toast.  I definitely had an erection now, and Kira was doing her level best to devour it.  The waitress looked questioningly at Kira’s empty place.  “Our friend will have the pancakes.” Faye said.

As soon as the waitress’ back was turned, Kira was pulling hard on my pants.  I lifted my butt up slightly and *whoosh* my pants and boxers were yanked down around my ankles.  I experienced the very odd and unusual feeling of being completely naked from the waist down in a very public setting.  A cool breeze wafted over my saliva-wet privates.  I didn’t get much time to dwell on my predicament.  Kira immediately went back to work down there, apparently attempting to swallow my cock whole.

Mitch and Faye seemed to be enjoying the various expressions pass across my face.  They placidly sipped their Bloody Marys and watched me squirm.

What Kira was doing was driving me absolutely insane. She was playing me like a musical instrument, alternately stroking my shaft light and fast like the wings of a butterfly until I was just about to explode; and then dropping the tempo right back down, licking up and down the length of my dick and swirling her tongue around the head.  She’d shower my entire penis with kisses, gently nibble and kiss my ball sac, nuzzle her way into the darker territory of my taint, before popping up and trying to jam my cock all the way down her throat.  When she did that, it was very difficult for me to not reach under the table, grab her head, and start humping her wide open mouth.  I think Mitch and Faye were picking up on that, judging by the amount of tittering that was coming from their end of the table.

I was lolling in ecstasy.  Just about the time that I was giving in to Kira’s tormenting pleasure, just as I was about to shoot off into her mouth the next time her tongue so much as brushed the head of my cock, our pretty French waitress showed up with the food.

“Ees everything ok?” she asked with a quizzical smile and a painfully cute accent, “You haven’t touched your drink.”

When she bent over to give me my French toast, I got a tremendous view of her cleavage.  She smiled broadly.  “Bon Appetite!”

As soon as the waitress was gone, Kira popped up from under the table, grinning from ear to ear like a well-fed cat, leaving me hard, wet, and flopping.  She downed her drink in one long gulp, and attacked her pancakes  like a woman on a mission.  My head was spinning, and my mouth was opening and closing like a goldfish “Wha…ah…wah..?”  It took me a second to realize that Mitch had disappeared.

I didn’t have much time to wonder where he’d gotten to.  A hot, wet mouth enveloped my straining cock, and I sighed aloud.  The girls giggled delightedly.

Ok, so if it was weird having my dick sucked by a dude, my dick was still being sucked, and the whole situation was over the top weird anyway, so I was slightly surprised to discover it didn’t bother me in the least.  Mitch had a very different technique from Kira.  He kept his mouth on my dick and bobbed up and down, squeezing the base of my cock, cupping my balls with his other hand.  It felt so good I caught myself bucking back against his mouth.  His cheeks were scratchy against my inner thigh.  Kira reached over and squeezed my hand.

Just as we were starting to get into a really good rhythm with each other, Mitch abandoned my cock, leaving me humping against air.  He popped up, and Faye took his place under the table.

Her method was much more sensual.  She licked languidly up and down the quivering, swollen length of my cock, lingering around the pee hole before tracing the vein down the underside and carefully taking my balls one by one into her mouth.  She licked hypnotically up and down my cock, up and down and around and around.  I couldn’t help myself; I reached down under the table as discreetly as possible, and cupped her large warm breast.  It felt nice in my hand, soft and firm.  I could feel the nipple stiffen under her shirt.  How long had it been since I’d touched a real live breast?

And then Faye swallowed me.  I felt my cock slip all the way down her throat, felt her muscles caressing me, felt her nose pressed up against my pubes, her straining lips mashed around the base of my cock.  I moaned out loud.  She lifted her head off me, and came up from beneath the table, smiling and coughing.  Kira, whose plate was now clean and empty, ducked back under.

Her mouth was still warm and sticky from the real maple syrup.  Down under the table, she was working with a renewed sense of purpose.  She had captured the head of my cock inside her mouth and was sucking hard, working her tongue all over the underside of my head, while one hand jerked me off hard and fast.  I surrendered to the pleasure, throwing my head back and humping back against her mouth in time with her pumping.  I didn’t care who knew, who could see.  It just felt too good, and I just wanted to come in her mouth.

Perversely, my body was having a hard time letting go.  Maybe it had just been teased too much for too long: even though I was balanced on the razors’ edge, even though I desperately wanted to, and Kira was clearly trying to make me, I couldn’t quite come.  It was exquisitely frustrating, sweet torture.

Between my legs, she gurgled and choked, switching hands for a better grip.  I spread my knees wide apart, giving her room to work.  Mitch and Faye were staring openly now, totally rapt.

I looked up and realized that the entire staff of the café was lined up over at the bar, watching us: both of the waitresses, the hostess, the cooks, the Mexican dishwasher; they were all intently following the action like a key soccer match.

While her mouth kept up the intensity on the head of my cock, and one hand kept pumping me hard and fast, Kira slid her free hand under my naked butt.  Her fingers probed in between my cheeks, searching, searching until they found what they were looking for.  Her slender finger penetrated my tight asshole, piercing and stretching me, burrowing deeper and deeper up my ass.

“I’M COMING!” I blurted out, “OH SHIT, I’M COMING!!  OH! Oh, Oh… Oh… Ah…Ahhhhh”

The rush of pleasure was so intense, I had never had an orgasm that strong before.  It started in my toes and flooded through me, all the way up through my ears.  My entire body twitched and shook as my cock pumped into Kira’s hungry mouth.  She stayed with me the whole way, and then some, drinking me until there was nothing left to drink.  I felt like I must have squirted about a gallon of come into her, and she took it all, every last drop.  It was the most incredible thing I had ever felt.

Finally I was done, slumping limply in my seat.  Kira let my soft penis slip out of her mouth, and gently extracted her finger from my anus.  She came up from beneath the table, her copper hair a wild case of bed-head.

“Happy Birthday!” she said.

The café staff gave us a long and exuberant round of applause.  I would have died of self-consciousness at that moment, but I was simply to happy to care very much.  I slurped my Bloody Mary and devoured my French toast, which was by now stone cold.

When my plate was empty, our waitress came back to the table.  “Ees there anything else I can get you today?” she asked.

“No thanks,” I said, “Just the check please.”

“Ees your birthday today, non?  There ees no charge.  Your breakfast ees on zee house.”

We thanked her profusely and left a big tip.  I pulled my drawers and my pants up over my wet and tired junk, and we all got up to go.  As we were walking to the door, the waitress ran up to me, gave me a hug, said “Happy Birthday”, and slipped a piece of paper into my jacket pocket.

Mitch and Faye headed off together, on business of their own.  Kira walked over to the train with me.

“I hope that wasn’t too weird?” she asked.

“No!  That was awesome… best birthday present ever!  I had no idea…”

“So then I’ll see you at work on Monday?” she said, “Unless you felt like hanging out or anything tomorrow?”

“Sure!” I said, “I don’t have any plans.  I’d love to hang out!”

“Ok!” her eyes flashed happily.  She gave me a big smile, hugged me quick and tight, and then she was gone, disappearing away into the sea of people on the crowded sidewalk.  She had a cute little butt in those green pants, and it twitched when she walked.

I felt like I was glowing.

Down in the train, I fished out the slip of paper the waitress had slipped into my pocket.  I had forgotten all about it, rediscovered it when I was searching for my Metrocard.

It was a piece of register paper with a name written on it: ‘Marie’, and a phone number. ‘Call me’ it said, and it was punctuated with a little smiley face.

Maybe I would.


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Great Aunt Matilda’s Magic Wardrobe

“Your Great Aunt Matilda just passed away, you know.”

My wife and I were up from the city on one of our regular weekend visits to the retirement community that my mother had moved to after my father died.  She delivered the news about Great Aunt Matilda in an offhand way as she poured Elka and me lemony herb tea out of a delicate antique floral teapot.  Maybe that’s how you know you’re getting old:  you chat about who’s died recently.

I hadn’t thought about Great Aunt Matilda in years and years.  When I was in my early teens, I had spent the summer at her house in Vermont.  It had been quite a revelatory time.  Since then I had seen her a few times at family gatherings; wedding, funerals and the like, but I had never worked up the nerve to talk to her.

“Now that’s sad news,” Elka said as mom shoveled heaping spoonfuls of sugar into her steaming teacup, “What did she die of?”

“Oh, nothing in particular” My mom ritually offered me sugar for my tea, which I ritually refused.  “She just went quietly in her sleep.  Lucky old bat.  She was ninety-one, you know.”


This was thirty years ago.  It had been decided that it would be good for me to spend my summer vacation in the country, away from the heat and smell and noise of New York City, and maybe not coincidentally away from the neighborhood kids and my school friends. It was thought that it would be healthy for me to see a little nature, hug a few trees, and to broaden my horizons.

That was also the year that, as if a light switch had been thrown, girls had gone from being weird and annoying to fascinating and desirable, and sex transformed from a slightly embarrassing and rather abstract biological discussion into a full-blown obsession.

On the train out of Penn Station, I sat and rued my lot in life.  I rued Shannon Kelly from my class who lived on 168th Street and had just sprouted breasts; I rued all the beautiful girls of New York and their skimpy summer skirts; and I rued the stack of Playboy and Penthouse magazines that I had purchased from my not-exactly friend Rory for twenty-five dollars, and which were currently stashed in my closet underneath a pile of Mad and Dragon magazines, hopefully safe from prying eyes.

Great Aunt Matilda met me at the train station in Vermont.  She was an imposing lady: sixty-ish, thin as a willow branch with severe grey hair done up in a tight bun.  She was wearing a long, fancy-looking, form-fitting grand purple dress, and her breasts made two prominent bumps in the front like a pair of tangerines.  She had been smoking when the train rolled in, and she squelched the butt under a shiny black high-heeled boot.  She looked about as out of place in the quaint rural train station as I felt.

She drove me back to her house in her enormous black Cadillac.  We tried to make friendly ‘getting-to-know-you’ conversation on the way, but it was stilted and awkward and quickly faltered.  The gulf between our two worlds was too wide to be bridged so easily.

The house was a huge rambling old Victorian mansion, slowly going to ruin.  Great Aunt Matilda had lived alone there since her husband had died some years before.  The place had once been magnificent, and it was still imposing, but it also looked somewhat shabby and unkempt, like a former supermodel who is past her prime and has taken to drinking too much.

Where Matilda had come by her money was a family mystery.  My mother always sniffed that she had married money; but my grandma denied that, hinting at more mysterious, darker sources of Great Aunt’s wealth.  Whatever the truth was, I never found out.

Great Aunt Matilda and I quickly came to an unspoken understanding: we would breakfast and dine together, and in all other matters we would stay out of each others’ hair.  This arrangement worked just fine for me: while Great Aunt Matilda hosted luncheons and went to fundraisers and lectures, I explored the vast property the house sat on.  I got wet and muddy and scraped-up climbing trees and mucking about in the brook, I climbed the little mountain behind the property; and when it was raining or too hot and humid and buggy to be outside, I explored the inside of the house.  It was, I was forced to admit, a lot of fun.  The only thing I was lacking (aside from company, which I found I didn’t really miss that much) was masturbation material.

One night, when it was too hot and humid and I was too horny to sleep (my bedroom was in a turret, and I could see the big thunderstorm rolling in… how cool was that?!?) I went exploring in search of dirty books.  Great Aunt Matilda was a great collector of books.  She had thousands of them gathering dust in forgotten rooms around the house; it stood to reason that at least a few of them must have steamy sex scenes.

On the truncated third floor of the east wing, I let myself into a room I had never been in before.  It might have been an old servants’ bedroom, or a pantry, or possibly just a big closet.  I almost left without entering, because the only thing in the room was an enormous wardrobe made of richly carved dark wood.  I thought I heard a noise.  It might have been thunder in the distance, or it might have been something else, something closer.  I decided to investigate.

The wardrobe was truly huge.  It was about the size of our apartment back in New York.  You could have parked a Volkswagen in there.  Above the big double door, carved in intricate relief, randy satyrs and buxom wood nymphs frolicked in postures that were just short of obscene.

I tried to open the door.  It was locked.  But once again, I thought I heard something.  I pressed my ear to the side of the wardrobe.  Soft, as if it were a long way away, but unmistakable, I heard grunting, heavy breathing, the slap of flesh-on-flesh, the moaning, rising cries of someone approaching orgasm.  I held my breath, my young cock instantly erect.  I heard a sharp *smack* and a muted scream, and then the gasps and wails became more intense, more immediate.  I slipped my hand down the front of my pajama bottoms and grasped my cock.  This was closer to sex than I had ever been in my life.

A great clap of thunder burst overhead, literally shaking the house to the foundations.  All was silent inside the wardrobe.  I lost my nerve, exiting the room as quickly and quietly as I dared, then running back to my bedroom in the turret.

The storm burst in full force, rattling the windows and pounding the roof as I jerked off under the covers.


The next morning at breakfast Great Aunt Matilda was looking somewhat haggard and rather distracted, and over French toast she asked me if the storm had kept me up all night as well.  I was antsy and fidgety, and excused myself from the table as soon as I had wolfed down the French toast and gulped my orange juice.  From the parlor nook, I quickly and quietly made winding my way over to the east wing and the strange deserted wardrobe room.

It stood there, an ominous imposing monolith on the wide plank floor.  I hesitantly walked up to it and tried the door.  It was unlocked.  Not really knowing what I was looking for, I opened the door and stepped inside.

“YO! GET THEM PANTS OFF AND SHOW ME THAT SKINNY WHITE BUTT! Come on bitch, bend over!  I ain’t got all day!”

It was the biggest black man I had ever seen, bellowing at me out of the dark.  He was obviously a body builder; his muscles seemed to have muscles growing on them.  He was wearing tight black jeans, and I could see his erection clearly outlined even in the dim light of the inside of the wardrobe.  He was naked from the waist up, his brown skin glistened with sweat.  His head was shaved, and he had freaky Maori tattoos on his face.  When he saw me, he stopped mid-bellow and did a double-take.

“Oh, excuse me.  I thought you was somebody else.”

That was plenty for me.  My skinny white butt turned tail and ran, slamming the doors behind me.  I ran all the way out of the house, all the way down to the little brook in the woods, where for a while I threw rocks at rocks and tried to pretend that I was just a little kid again, and not a sex-obsessed, horny teenager.

That, of course, did not last.  Within an hour I was slinking back to the low-ceilinged east wing.

I crept back into the spare, nearly empty room and approached the dark looming wardrobe.  Trepidatiously, I opened the door and stepped inside.

I found myself face-to-face (or rather face-to-chest, as she stood at least eight inches taller than me) with Miss February.

Miss February was my favorite of all the centerfolds, because out of all of them she looked almost like she might be a real human being.  Her breasts were big and full rather than simply enormous.  She had pale, almost translucent skin rather than a creepy full-body tan.  Her hair was on the short side, and thoroughly hairsprayed into rigidity, but there was something playful about the way one lock kept falling in front of her eyes and had to be brushed aside.

At the moment she was wearing a green silky-satin thing that was draped over her body in such a way as to just barely cover her salient bits.

“Little Mister,” Miss February purred, “I am going to rock your world.”

I realized that I was now in a small, dim room with a shag carpet of non-descript color and a black leather couch.  Miss February bit her lower lip sexily and let the green silky thing fall to the ground.  She stood naked before me, every detail exactly as I remembered it from the glossy magazine.  Her breasts were large and full and slightly upturned, her nipples were small and pink and erect.  That pesky lock of hair had once again fallen in front of her eyes.  Her stomach was gently flat, her belly button was deep and perfect, and just below that was a barely visible thin white horizontal line that I only realized years later was the scar from a c-section.  (You couldn’t see that in her photo spread; I checked later.  They must have airbrushed it out.)  Her legs were long and slender and shapely smooth, and between her thighs was a perfect triangle of soft, tangled golden hair.

My dick couldn’t have been any harder if it had been forged from meteorite steel.

“Are you going to get undressed Little Man?  Or should I help you?”

Not waiting for me to reply, Miss February reached down and pulled my t-shirt off over my head.  She then dropped to her knees before me, and with practiced ease she unbuttoned my jeans and sent them sliding down around my ankles.  She hooked her thumbs under the waistband of my underpants, and with a swift yank they were down and my dick was out, bobbing merrily, almost smacking her in the face.

“Ooooh, very nice!” Miss February purred, sticking out her tongue and licking that sensitive piece of meat as if it were a candy cane.  The sensation of her tongue contacting my penis made me shiver all over, and she grinned at the reaction she had caused.

My cock wasn’t that impressive at that point; I still had some growing to do, but I swear it had gained an extra inch just from her attention.  She licked it again, and again, playfully dragging her tongue up the length of my quivering dick, making me stand on my tip-toes, making me shiver again and again.  Her tongue darted out and played with my balls and I moaned out loud.

“Do you like these?” she asked, proffering her big tits to me.  I nodded dumbly, and she wrapped her breasts around my straining cock, two giant warm pillows.  She took my hands and placed them on her big soft boobs.  I was in absolute heaven, squeezing and caressing those beautiful tits while rubbing my aching cock in between them.

Miss February smiled up at me.  Her two front teeth were slightly crooked; you couldn’t tell in the magazine pictures of her, they must have fixed that with Photoshop, but it somehow made her even sexier.  “Come on Tiger,” she said, “I am just dying to pop your cherry.”

She had me lay down on my back on the leather couch, my cock sticking out at a forty-five degree angle like the Iwo Jima flagpole being raised.  Sticky, clear fluid leaked copiously out the swollen end.  She climbed aboard, straddling me, eyes closed.  I could feel her wetness on my thighs as she rubbed herself against me, playing with those sexy pink nipples.

After a few minutes of this she opened her eyes and met my gaze.  “You have no idea,” she said with a girlish smile, “how much I am going to enjoy this.”

She raised herself up onto her knees, grabbed my cock confidently in one hand, parted her pussy lips with her other hand, and slowly and very deliberately lowered herself onto me.

It was pleasure beyond imagining: hot, wet, soft, tight, firm, slippery.  I arched my back, fucking back up into her heavenly pussy.  I felt her pubic hair press against mine, her butt resting on my thighs as she sighed “Yesssss” and pulled hard on her nipples, grinding her crotch wetly onto mine.

I had just enough time to think (or shout) “Holy Shit!  I am actually having SEX!!” and then I was coming, coming in exquisite ecstasy, my body shaking and convulsing as I pumped what seemed like gallon after gallon of sticky white come into her pussy.

Miss February stayed with me until I went limp and started breathing again, and then she carefully disconnected herself from me.  She ruffled my hair affectionately, climbed down off the couch, retrieved her slinky green thing, said “See you around, Kiddo”, and then disappeared into the darkness.

I was left in a puddle of sweat and juice, massaging my damp, sticky penis, which was already getting hard again.  “I’m not a virgin anymore” was the first thought that occurred to me, and “Oh my God, what if I got her pregnant?” was the second.

I dismissed that second panicked thought pretty quickly.  Miss February was clearly a figment of my imagination, and you didn’t have to worry about impregnating figments of your imagination, as far as I knew.  I concentrated on jerking off, replaying what had just happened in my mind as I stroked my cock, still sticky-slick with Miss February’s wetness.


The next morning after breakfast, when I let myself quietly into the black wardrobe, rehearsing all the things I wanted to say and do to Miss February, I was surprised to find Shannon Kelly, that girl from school who I’d had a crush on forever standing bemusedly on the shag carpeting next to the couch.

We stood blinking at each other for a long moment.

I’d never been alone with Shannon before.  The erection that had been poking stiffly around inside my pants all morning started to wilt as I was gripped with a sweaty, tongue-tied attack of nervous shyness.

“I’ve thought about this happening a lot in class” she said. “When I should have been paying attention to equations.” Shannon sat behind me in Algebra.  “I’ve wanted you for a long time now.”

My fingers shaking like I had Parkinson’s, I lifted first one then the other strap of Shannon’s purple tank top off her shoulders.  She raised her arms up, and I lifted her top off, dropping it onto the shag carpet.  She was slender and waiflike and her young breasts looked firm as a pair of ripe apricots.  The nipples were swollen and puffy and pink.

“I guess I must be dreaming,” Shannon said slowly, “But this sure is a nice dream.”

My hard-on was back, with a vengeance.

I dropped to my knees and started undoing the catch of Shannon’s jeans.  I could feel her body heat radiating out through the denim.  She giggled as I fumbled with the buttons.  My hands were still shaking uncontrollably.  At last I got the fly open and her jeans down, and she stepped out of them like a young giraffe.

“Go ahead,” she whispered, standing in front of me.  There were goose bumps on her long skinny legs.  All she was wearing were a pair of baby-blue cotton panties with daisies printed on them.  I slipped my fingers under the elastic waistband and pulled them down.

A fluff of kitten-soft golden-brown pubic hair covered her pussy.  The delicate lips pouted out and glistened with excited moisture.  I nuzzled in closer, inhaling her scent.  She spread her legs for me, running her fingers softly through my hair.

On her inner left thigh, almost at the crease where her leg met her crotch, was a small blue tattoo; the outline of a double heart.

“My friend Daisy did that, back in the sixth grade, after the first time we…” Shannon trailed off, blushing.

I stuck out my tongue and drew it along the opening of her pussy.  Her lips bloomed open for me.  I couldn’t believe how soft and wet she was.  Her slickness was instantly all over my face.  She tasted like peaches.

[Many years later, Shannon and I got together in real life.  It was at a high school reunion, and we were both dating other people at the time and it was a one-off kind of thing, inappropriate and un-thought out, but very satisfying.  She did indeed have a crude, blurry tattoo of a double heart on her inner thigh, but she didn’t taste like peaches.  She tasted like a woman, clean and tangy and sexy.]

“I want to see you naked now!” she blurted out with a mischievous gleam in her eye.

I felt her closeness and her eyes hot upon me as I undressed.  When I pulled off my underwear, my dick sprang out like a jack-in-the-box.

“Hmm, it’s bigger than I thought it would be,” Shannon giggled, giving my erection an experimental squeeze.  Then she was pressed up against me, her firm little breasts mashed against my hairless chest, her fluffy bush mashed against my thigh, my hard cock nuzzled up against her tummy.  Her arms wrapped around me, and we began to kiss, just like a pair of grown-up lovers.

We kissed for a long time, holding each other close, exploring each other with lips and tongue and touch.  Then she tugged at me and still wrapped arm in arm, we shuffled back until we tripped up and tumbled sprawling onto the leather couch.

Shannon’s legs fell apart, giving me my first good view of her pussy.  It was spread open and pink and wet, small and delicate looking.  It reminded me of the fragile bloom of some wild flower.  Her pussy was framed by a soft pelt of blondish hair, so fine it barely existed.  The petite lips were pouting hungrily open, and clearish nectar was leaking out from in between them.

I positioned myself between her supple, skinny thighs, and both hands on my cock, took careful aim.

“Be gentle, ok?” Shannon said to me, “I’m a virgin at this.”

I nestled the swollen, red-ripe head of my cock in between her labia.  Her flesh was hot to the touch.  I could even see her little clit, impossible tiny, peeking out at me.  I moved forward, and the end of my penis disappeared inside Shannon’s heavenly twat.

I eased into her, as slowly and as carefully and as gently as I could manage.  If possible, Shannon was even hotter and wetter and tighter than Miss February.  Her pussy seemed to pulsate on my over-excited cock.  I thought I could feel her pulse with my dick.  By biting down hard on my lower lip and holding my breath, I was able to not shoot off right away.  My penis was finally buried inside her, all the way in, my balls pressed against her buttocks.

She made a little animal noise and wrapped her legs around my back, pulling me deeper in.  With her hands on my forearms, she whispered “Don’t stop now, fuck me!”

I complied, sliding my dick in and out, slowly at first, then faster and faster and more and more urgently.  She was humping back against my thrusting penis.  We were making sexy little squishing noises with our bodies as we fucked.  It was way too much for me.  I closed my eyes, threw my head back, and with a long low groan, I came inside her, squirting jet after jet of semen into her pussy, my whole body shaking as I came.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, keep on doing it!” I kept fucking her even as the urgency faded and my penis started to sag.  She was exquisitely wet.  Her eyes were shut and her head lolled from side to side.  One finger was busy down between her legs, strumming her clit as I fucked her.  At last she sighed contentedly and stretched, and my poor spent dick slipped wetly out of her slippery pussy.

Shannon grinned sleepily up at me.  “If that was a dream, that was the best one I’ve had in ages!” She lazily rolled off the couch and wadded her clothes and underwear up into a ball.  “I’ll see you back at school in the fall!”  And she turned and walked away.  I watched her sexy, pale butt twitch until it disappeared in the darkness.


I visited the wardrobe at least once a day; usually twice, after breakfast and again in the afternoon or evening; and some days I spent all day fooling around in there.  I fucked all the centerfold girls, most of the girls in my class, and Vanna White.  It didn’t take me long to figure out that what I was doing was essentially just masturbation: when it came down to business, the girls were basically all the same and didn’t really have much depth or personality; but I didn’t mind.  They were all eager and willing, they would do exactly what I wanted, and there was none of the awkwardness and paralyzing shyness I felt whenever I was around real girls.

I realized early on that I could exert some control over the wardrobe by focusing my thoughts: I could determine which girl I was going to visit, and what kind of things we’d do.  The real epiphany came later on though, toward the end of the summer.

I had never imagined it to be possible.  I was starting to get a little bored with all the fucking and sucking.  Not bored enough, of course, to stop visiting the wardrobe every morning, but it was becoming more and more like masturbating alone in bed: something to get over with before I went out to play for the rest of the day.  One morning, I decided to try an experiment.

Standing on the bare planks in front of the wardrobe, I consciously cleared my mind, allowing the wardrobe to take over.  I took a deep breath, exhaled, opened the door and stepped inside.

Instead of the familiar shag-carpeted den, I found myself in a classroom full of empty desks, with light pouring in the tall double-hung windows.  I was standing at the very back of the room, by the door.  There were math posters up on the wall, equations on the blackboard, and Miss Wainwright was perched on top of her desk at the front of the room, amidst piles of books, a coffee cup, and several different calculators.

Miss Wainwright was my algebra teacher.  She was painfully smart, bitingly funny, patient and quite nice as long as she wasn’t being bullshitted, and absolutely pitiless when she was.  She was thirtyish, plump and rounded, with curly red hair and boxy black glasses.  I had always been a little scared of Miss Wainwright, and I had certainly never thought of her sexually before.

“Come closer,” Miss Wainwright said, “I can hardly see you back there.”

Feeling very hesitant and self-conscious, I walked down the aisle between empty desks toward her.  She was wearing a short blue skirt, and flip-flops on her feet.  I realized belatedly that Miss Wainwright had really big boobs, really nice-looking big boobs that were only just contained inside her white blouse.  She crossed her legs, and I had a fleeting glimpse of her red panties.  I was uncomfortably aware of the lump in the front of my pants.

“What do you know,” Miss Wainwright asked me crisply, “On the subject of cunnilingus?”

“Um,” I stammered, “Does that mean, uh, eating a girl out?”

“Oh dear,” Miss Wainwright tut-tutted, “I expect you need a lesson.  Oh well, everybody needs to start somewhere… I can assure you, this is a skill you will find quite rewarding once you master it.  You’ll thank me.  And so will your future girlfriends.

[I had gone down on many of the girls I had encountered in the wardrobe.  But ‘going down’ had always consisted of a brief, creamy lick or two, a quick overture to the main event.  Years later, on our second date, Elka would ask me where I learned to eat pussy so well.  I just smiled.]

“Listen,” she went on, un-crossing her legs and looking at me seriously, “I’ll make you a deal: you make me have an orgasm, and I’ll definitely make it worth your while.  I’m not going to fuck you – say what they like, but Lisa Wainwright does not fuck her students – but I will make you feel really good.  And I think you’ll learn a thing or two on the way… So, what do you say?  Do we have a deal?”

I nodded dumbly and Miss Wainwright grinned.  “Well come on then,” she said, “It’s not going to lick itself.”

She stood up and quickly shucked off her red panties, tossing them aside, then sat back down on top of her desk, her knees wide apart.  “You should get naked,” she said, “It’ll be a good visual aid.”

I got undressed as she watched critically.  “Not bad,” she said when I was fully naked, “Not bad at all.  You’ll have a nice body once you’ve grown into it.”  She smoothed her skirt out on her lap.  “Shall we begin?”

‘Once I grow into it…’ I thought, ‘Sheesh’.  She was, I realized much later, absolutely right.

Miss Wainwright hiked up her skirt and lay back across the top of her desk.  “Let’s see what you can do.”

I stuck my head in between her big meaty thighs.  Her pussy was completely bald, like a pair of big soft bike tires squished together.  Just a hint of her shy inner lips peaked out.  I stuck out my tongue and slurped up and down the crease of her pussy, soft as baby fat.

“NO!” Miss Wainwright yanked my hair non-gently.  “You have to start slow, beat around the bush for a while.  This isn’t a pie-eating contest!”

I took the hint and ran with it, licking and kissing her inner thighs, the mound above her pussy, nibbling gently on those plump outer lips until she sighed happily.

“Mmm, that’s more like it” she cooed, “Now you’re getting me all hot and bothered.”  It was true.  She was getting quite wet, and her pussy was opening up for me.  She didn’t taste anything like the other wardrobe girls.  It wasn’t a bad taste at all, but it was intense: earthy, tangy, pungent, female.  She tasted like sex, and it was nearly overwhelming.  Her clitoris was clearly visible, a big fat pink pea, peeking out from underneath it’s little hood.

I slurped her pussy like an ice-cream cone, dragging my tongue across her wide open labia all the way up and over her straining clit.  That earned me another sharp yank on my hair.

“Easy there, Tiger!”  I resumed the teasing, licking and kissing I’d been doing before and she released my hair.  “Not directly on my clit!  Listen and learn, Young Grasshopper: one thing that is true is that every girl is different.  You’ll have to learn to learn to lick every girl the way she likes it.  Now I like it when you lick all around my clit – right on it is too intense – and you can put a couple fingers inside now.”  I complied.  It felt super sexy to have her wet pussy squeezing my fingers.  She sighed happily as my tongue danced around the sensitive little fat nib of her clit.  “Some girls like a finger gently up their anus, other girls want you to stay the hell away from that entire area.” She squirmed, “Me, I’d like you to play with my asshole right now… use your thumb, just tickle around the outside… mmm, yessss… now: DON’T STOP.”

I have no idea how long I went at it.  Long enough for my world to become just her hot, thick, squeezing thighs and her wet, slippery vulva; long enough for my jaw to cramp and my tongue to ache.  I fingered her pussy with one, then two, then one again fingers, finding a sweet spot where she liked to be rubbed hard, as hard as I could press, just inside her vagina.  I licked all around her clit, up and down her pussy, and once in a while, just for variety and out of naughtiness, I kissed her full on the clit.  She didn’t object.  My thumb circled her asshole, pressing gently against it, then dancing away, stroking the flesh below her pussy, tracing the crack of her butt all the way up to the base of her spine, then trekking back down again to her winking, needy anus.  In the end, as she started seriously groaning and wiggling and humping back against me, my thumb ended up buried halfway up her asshole as my fingers plunged in and out of her gasping pussy and my tongue danced around her clit.

When she finally came, it was beautiful.  I was buried in her pussy, I couldn’t breathe as she heaved and shook and cried out loud, and I didn’t care, I just kept licking until finally she went limp.  It was the most satisfying experience I had ever had.

I was exhausted, covered in her wetness.

“Not bad!” Miss Wainwright sat up and smiled, “Not bad at all for a beginner.  With a little practice, you could be a world champ.”

She smoothed out her skirt.  “Now climb on up here and get what’s coming to you.”

I clambered up onto the desk, my erect penis wobbling with every move.  Miss Wainwright grinned at me like a hungry cat and started unbuttoning her blouse, setting her big tits free.  They hung down over her full, round stomach.  “Not too bad for an old fat chick, don’t you think?”

Not bad, not bad at all.  They were big and full and featured aureole the size of desert plates, with big, gumdrop-shaped nipples poking out the center.  I’d pay much more attention in math class from now on. Miss Wainwright sucked her index finger playfully.  “You’ve got a very nice cock, you know.  Not too big, not too small, just right.  If you learn to use that thing right, you are going to make some girls very happy.  Always remember, your most important sex organ is right between your ears…”

She squeezed my cock playfully.  Her grip was warm and firm.

With a quick movement, she took the wet finger she’d been teasingly sucking on like a mini cock, and slipped it right up my ass.

I gasped at the invasion.  It wasn’t painful, it wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but it felt decidedly weird.  I was impaled on her long index finger like a shish-kabob.  My dick seemed to get even harder, straining up and out.

“Goooood boy!” Miss Wainwright cooed, pumping my penis very softly as she manipulated the finger that was up my butt.  My eyes rolled back in my head and I reveled in the sensations she was inflicting on me.  “I want you to come on my breasts.  Yeah… put your hot come all over teacher’s nice titties, won’t you?”

She played my penis like an instrument, stroking me to the very edge of a massive explosion and then backing off, blowing on the red-hot head like a birthday candle, then starting all over again, touching me so softly it was as if she wasn’t there at all, then building, building, building until I thought I couldn’t stand it any longer.  The finger in my asshole was driving me crazy, my balls positively ached, my whole body strained for release.

Finally she gripped my cock with a new purpose, pumping hard and fast, and she curled the finger that was up my butt, pressing buttons I hadn’t even known I had, and I came, wailing and squirting pearly-white come all over her big shaking tits.

When it was over, she gently extracted her finger and spread my come all over her breasts like lotion.  She grinned proudly.  “Excellent work, A+.  I’m looking forward to seeing you in class next semester!”

The next year at school, I strained my eyeballs trying to catch a glimpse of Miss Wainwright’s red panties, but I never did.


The next time I entered the wardrobe, I was greeted with a truly unexpected sight: a gawky, awkward-looking teenage boy about my own age, stark naked, with an erection that mirrored my own.  He seemed too tall for his body, he had a slight slouch, and his hair was on the shaggy side.  I realized with a rushing shock of recognition that I was looking at myself.

“Hey.” he said.

“Hey.” I said.

“Feeling horny?” he asked, eyeing the bulge in the front of my pants, the anticipatory erection that hadn’t drooped one iota despite the fact that I hadn’t been greeted by the usual sexy, horny female.

“Yeah” I said eloquently, unsnapping the fly of my jeans and sizing my doppelganger up.  Now I could see what Miss Wainwright meant when she said I’d have a nice body once I grew into it.  Maybe I should start running or working out a little?  And the pubes could definitely use a trim.  My mirror image’s balls hung down like fat, ripe fruit, and his erection jutted obscenely out.  From this perspective it looked intimidating large.

He leered at me.  “Go ahead,” he said, “I know you’re curious.”

It’s true.  I was.  I had often more than half wondered what it would be like to suck my own dick.  I was about to find out.

It was kind of sexy.  It was more than a little weird.  It was a little scary.  Once I had that big hard hot eager thrusting thing in my mouth, I gained a lot of respect for the talents of my centerfold playmates: I had no idea what to do with it.  I tried sucking on it like a big popsicle, which my mirror-image seemed to appreciate, but I couldn’t maintain that very long.  I tried licking it like a lollipop, which was easier and kind of fun, but it didn’t seem like that method was going to get him off.  When I tried to swallow him whole, I choked and gagged.

I needed some attention too, so we decided to try a 69.  He climbed on top of me on the couch, and I continued to try out my oral skills on his cock.  It wasn’t really the right angle for me to suck on him, so I concentrated on nibbling and licking the shaft and balls.  His asshole, a tiny pink crinkled hole surrounded by soft hair, winked at me.  It was strange to see this view of myself.

Meanwhile, my twin self wasn’t doing much better on my own hard and horny dick.  It felt nice, whatever he was doing down there, but it wasn’t taking me anywhere.  He couldn’t seem to get a good rhythm going on; every time it started to feel like I might be going to be able to get off, he lost it.  We were both getting really hot and bothered and frustrated.

I sneaked a lick up around his anus, and he moaned with delight.  I obliged him, circling his puckered little hole, trying to invade his asshole with the tip of my tongue.  He started doing the same for me, and it felt amazing!  It was something I had secretly lusted for, but had been embarrassed to ask any of the centerfold girls for.   Funny, being embarrassed to ask a hallucination for weird sexual favors.  But anyway, as amazing and sexy as it felt, the rimming action wasn’t going to get either one of us off.

Finally, I could take no more.  “Hey, do you think I could try fucking you in the ass?” I asked.

“Um, I guess so” he answered from between my thighs, “This is your fantasy after all.”

We disengaged and repositioned, him bent over one arm of the couch, butt presented to me, his fuzzy balls hanging vulnerably down.  He looked back at me nervously.  “Go easy, ok?”

I rubbed my almost painfully hard erection between his firm butt cheeks.  His ass was nice and wet from the licking I had given it, and what I was doing felt really good.  He seemed to think so too, humping back against me and sliding his ass up and down the length of my shaft.

I spread his cheeks apart, exposing his tender little hole.  With one hand I guided the head of my penis up against his anus.  I reached under him and squeezed his dick, which was just as hard as my own.  I took careful aim, nuzzled my cock right up against his opening, and shoved.

“OUCH!  OW!  Stop, take it out!  Oh fuck!  I’m sorry, that hurts!”

I hastily pulled out, and he rolled over, grabbing his ass protectively and grimacing.

“Sorry, I’m not really ready for that… Gosh, I didn’t think it was going to be… they make it look so easy in the pornos…

“Sorry,” he said again, “I don’t really know what I’m doing here.  I’m just making it up as I go along.”

“Me too,” I said.

We ended up jerking each other off, arm in arm, lying together on the couch.  That was one thing I was really good at.  And so was he.  We stroked and pumped each other into utter bliss, teasing and tormenting and finally abandoning ourselves to the pleasure.  We kissed hard and deep for a while as our climaxes approached with the inevitability of an oncoming locomotive.  It felt strange to kiss a guy, but not necessarily strange in a bad way.  And then we were both coming, bucking and heaving and squirting hot white semen all over each other’s stomachs.  We collapsed, sighing contentedly, one big sweaty, sticky mess.

“Wow,” he said once we had both calmed down a little and weren’t breathing so hard, “That was intense.”  He dipped his finger experimentally in the overflowing pool of come that I had deposited into his navel, and licked his finger tentatively.  I did the same.  It wasn’t bad, kind of salty and soupy.  “That was kind of cool.”

Now that we had gotten off, I think we both felt a little awkward.  He got up, my come running down his belly and into his pubic patch.  “Thanks… I enjoyed that.”

“See you soon, ok?”

“Sure… next time you look in the mirror.”

And then he was gone, off into the darkness at the back of the wardrobe.



It was the next day, and instead of a hot, sexy girl, or a horny math teacher, or even my own mirror image, I found myself facing that huge scary black dude I had run into the first time I ventured into the wardrobe.  He leered at me threateningly.  The weird spiral tattoos on his face stretched and distorted.  His muscles bulged under his ebony skin.  He was wearing a steel choker clamped around his thick neck, and his teeth gleamed whitely.  Hands trembling, I complied, stripping naked while he watched.

“Not bad White Boy, not bad at all.” He smiled, and it was an odd mix of friendly and pure evil.  “Marcel is going to fuck your ass so hard your eyes will pop out of your head.  I’m just kiddin’ with you.  Now get down on your knees and start sucking my dick.”

I hesitated, not knowing what to do.  He was wearing tight black jeans, a studded leather belt, and there was a frightening-looking bulge in his crotch.

“I’m serious bitch.  I am going to teach you to suck dick and to suck it right.”  He was unfastening his belt, letting his pants fall.  He wasn’t wearing any underwear; his cock was big and thick and purple and black.  It reminded me of a Discovery Channel snake, or maybe the trunk of an elephant.  It seemed to be about as big as my forearm.  There was a well-trimmed patch of curly black pubic hair around it, and a big fat drop of clear pre-come oozed out the tip.

He placed his huge hand on top of my head and forced me down onto my knees, gently but insistently.  I could see every ab in his six-pack.  That ridiculously big cock bobbed right in my face.  I looked up at him questioningly.

“Well it sure aint going to suck itself.  Don’t worry White Boy, it doesn’t make you gay to fuck around with a figment of your imagination.  Now get to it!”

There was nothing for me but to do it.  I closed my eyes and opened wide.  It was like trying to swallow my whole arm, fist and all.

“No!”  he cuffed me across the face and I went sprawling, my cheek on fire.  “Don’t try to swallow it whole… at least not yet.  Start off slow.  Lick it, kiss it.  Play with my balls.  And use your hand.  Now try again.”

He kicked his pants off the rest of the way, and lounged down onto the couch, his big dick flopping against his stomach.  My face feeling red and sore, I crawled over and went to work.

I did what he said, encouraged with light slaps and not-so-gentle tugs on my hair when he didn’t like what I was doing, and happy-sounding sighs and soft growls when he did.  I kept one hand wrapped around the shaft, slowly stroking him the whole time as I licked, sucked, nibbled and kissed.  I ran my tongue along the underside of his cock with my tongue, tracing the big fat vein all the way up and back.  I boldly sucked on his balls, taking each one in turn carefully into my mouth.  I captured the thick purple head between my lips and swirled my tongue around its contours.  I never would have thought it, never would have admitted it, but I was starting to find sucking his dick almost as fun as getting my own dick sucked.

“Mmm…” he sighed as I eagerly slurped at the swollen head of his cock, a fat, sweet fruit in my mouth, “White Boy, you were born to suck dick!”

With that, he placed both hands on the back of my head and shoved, forcing me all the way down onto his cock.  His erection filled my mouth and muscled its way down my throat.  I gagged and struggled, but he held me firm.  I started to panic, afraid that I couldn’t breathe.  He only shoved me further down his cock, until my face was mashed up against his crinkly pubic hair.  I tried to pull away, but it was useless.  He was way too strong.  I started to pass out.

That was when I realized that I could breathe after all.  It wasn’t easy, but I could get a little air in and out through my nose, and it was enough.

He grunted with satisfaction and got down to business, fucking my face.  He started slowly, and then accelerated, fucking my mouth harder and faster.  All I could do was try to breathe and keep my teeth off his dick, and hang on.  I couldn’t help gagging sometimes when he shoved himself all the way in, but he didn’t seem to mind at all.  In fact he seemed to like that.  A part of my mind thought I was a complete pervert for enjoying this, but enjoying it I was.  I was his bitch, and he was using me for his pleasure alone.  Another part of my mind wished I had a better view of the action.

He came with a shout, his dick swelling and pulsing.  He crammed my face down on him as he came.  I barely even tasted his come, it mostly squirted straight down my throat.  Finally, satisfied, he pushed me away, and I collapsed onto the floor, dazed and panting.

“Well done, I gotta say.”  He flashed me that smile again, this time more friendly than pure evil.  “Now Marcel is going to give you what you deserve.  You ready White Boy?”

My dick was still stunningly hard.  I wasn’t going to get any readier.  Following his direction, I bent over the arm of the couch, my head down, my ass up.  I held my breath, getting ready for whatever he was going to give to me.

Swish! Smack!  I heard it before I even felt it.  It took me a moment to process what was happening, and then I yelped in pain.  His black studded leather belt whooshed through the air and slapped across my ass once again, and I cried out in earnest, hollering and shouting and fighting hard to get away.

He held me down with one huge hand placed squarely between my shoulder blades and beat me hard with the belt in his other hand.  I screamed until my throat was raw.  I cried, sobbed, begged for mercy.  I lost count quickly how many times he hit me.  Again and again and again.

I began to realize that the pain was transcendental, that it wasn’t going to kill me, and I started to lose myself in the sensation, the feeling of being utterly helpless and in his control.   My face was wet with salty tears but my dick was still hard.  At last he stopped, dropped his belt onto the floor with a clatter, and softly kissed each flaming red welt-covered cheek, over and over until I stopped crying.

“Sweet Action, White Boy,” he said, and I fairly glowed with pride.  “You ready to come for me?”

I nodded eagerly.

“Ok then.  Go ahead and come for Marcel then.”  He held out his huge brown hand, palm up in front of me.

He stared into my eyes as I jerked off for him.  Sometimes, when I got too close to coming, he slowed me down by pulling my nipples hard and twisting them cruelly, relishing my pitiful cries.  My buttocks still throbbed from the beating I had received, my dick felt longer and harder than ever before.  Masturbating for Marcel was the most intensely erotic scene I had experienced yet.  When I finally came, I was gasping and panting, and his eyes were on fire.  I filled the palm of his hand with my sticky white semen.

When I was all done coming, when I had milked every last drop into his waiting hand and my dick was small and soft again, he made me lick it up.  I wasn’t incredibly crazy about the taste, but the feeling, that feeling of being his pet, his toy, a plaything under his control; that was weirdly sexy and amazing.

“See you around,” Marcel said, “And next time, I will fuck that tight little ass!”

He left me feeling dazed and confused.

Later on, my throat was still sore from all the screaming, but there wasn’t a mark on my bottom; I checked in the bathroom mirror.  I figured I still like girls best, but I wouldn’t mind playing around with Marcel once in a while.


It was to be my last full day at Great Aunt Matilda’s house.  I wolfed down my breakfast as Great Aunt watched me over her morning paper.  She asked if I had anything special planned for my last day in Vermont, wondered if I’d mind having lunch with her and some of her friends.  No problem, but first there was some stuff I wanted to do by myself.  Of course, she agreed.  Luncheon at one, she smiled, and asked me to please wear something clean if I was going to play outside all morning.

As soon as was remotely polite, I excused myself and headed straight over to the wardrobe.  I was hot and horny and hoping for something amazing.

I was not disappointed.  A septet of nubile young Egyptian slave girls was waiting for me.  They made a giggling contest of it, each one trying valiantly to get me off using only her mouth before a minute egg timer ran out.  It took all morning, and the anticipation nearly killed me, my balls aching and my dick so hard I thought it might break, but it was worth it in the end.  A proud young girl with dark honey skin and almost no breasts at all finally brought me off into her hungry mouth.  The intensity of the orgasm almost made me pass out.  My girl friends waved goodbye and filed away into the darkness.

When I got back to my bedroom, I realized that I was going to be late for Great Aunt Matilda’s luncheon.  Fortunately I didn’t have to change clothes.  I had barely worn them at all.


Lunch was an excruciating affair.  Great Aunt Matilda presided over the frizzy-haired old ladies (and one withered, wispy-looking old man) of the town historical society, none of whom were aged less than one hundred and three.  I was admired and praised like a prize turkey (such a nice, well-behaved, handsome young man); subjected to a quick barrage of inane questions and platitudes; and then largely ignored as they slowly munched dry roast chicken sandwiches and discussed preservation committees and fund-raising events.  It went on for hours, and I suffered in polite silence.  After sandwiches, the wine came out, and the conversation turned to people I had never heard of, old friends and relations, all of whom (as far as I could make out) were long dead.  The afternoon seemed like it would never end.  I sat quietly, tried to keep smiling, and nodded in agreement whenever it seemed like I was expected to.  Great Aunt Matilda, the next youngest person in the room by a good twenty years, shot me a couple sympathetic looks.  I just wished I was old enough to partake of the wine.

At last lunch was over, and I finally had the opportunity to say goodbye to the woods and stream and hills around the mansion.  I really was going to miss Vermont when I got back to the city, and not just for the kinky sex either.

That night, Great Aunt Matilda took me out for pizza.  That was a first.

“I’m really sorry I had to subject you to that” she said, “I couldn’t not show off my handsome young nephew to the committee ladies.  They never would have forgiven me.  Bunch of tiresome old biddies, aren’t they?”

I could only agree.

“I’m truly going to miss having you around the house.  You make the old place seem so much more lively.”  That seemed odd to me because aside from mealtimes, we had seen very little of each other all summer. “I hope you enjoyed your stay here.”

I assured her that I had.  I wondered if she had any idea how much I had enjoyed myself.


That night, after we got back from pizza, I crept over to the east wing and the wardrobe room.  In the past when I had visited the wardrobe late at night, I had always found it locked.  But I wanted to pay one last visit before I left for good, and I hoped it might still be early enough to get in.

The frolicking satyrs and nymphs carved into the dark wood seemed to leer and grin seductively at me.  The house was still and silent.  I tried the door and found it unlocked.

The wardrobe was empty.  The shag carpeting was gone, the leather couch replaced with a red velvet settee.

I didn’t know what else to do, so I sat down on the settee and waited.  And waited.

I’m not sure how long I sat there, alone in the semi-dark.  At the time it seemed like hours and hours, but it may have been less.  Maybe the magic was gone.  I was half-tempted to get up, leave, go jerk off in the comfort of my own bed, but I stayed, hoping against hope that something, anything, would happen.

At some point I got bored, stripped down, started playing with myself in an idle, non-committal sort of way, replaying in my mind the various sexy scenes that had happened to me over the summer: Miss February, Shannon, Miss Wainwright, Marcel and all the others.  I wasn’t especially trying to make myself come, but as they danced naked through my head and did all sorts of kinky things to me (and each other), I started to become seriously turned on.  The idle petting of my dick became more and more purposeful; the fantasies in my head came into sharper and sharper focus.

Ever get the feeling you’re being watched?  I was really getting into it, masturbating in earnest to a fantasy scene in my head in which I was fucking Miss Wainwright, who was eating the pussy of one of the Egyptian slave girls, while Marcel was molesting me from behind.  I was deeply fingering my own asshole as I stroked my cock, working myself up for a massive come, when I happened to look up.  Great Aunt Matilda was standing next to the settee in the same grand and imposing fuchsia dress she had been wearing that afternoon, watching me with one eyebrow raised archly.

Mortified doesn’t even begin to describe how I felt at that instant.  I imagined myself a bug, impaled on a pin in a display case, as Great Aunt Matilda examined me in all my naked glory.

“Marcel wasn’t lying,” she said with an amused little smile, “you do have a pretty hot little body.  And a very nice young cock.  But a big dick will only get you so far in life.  Let’s see what my wardrobe has taught you this summer.”

She shook out her habitual tidy bun, and her long grey hair cascaded down her back.

“God,” she said, “I’ve been thinking about this all day.  All summer, really.  All the way through that awful luncheon, I kept imagining you ducking under the table and crawling up my skirt…”

She shrugged her dress off her shoulders and it fell into a beautiful crumpled magenta heap around her ankles.  She wasn’t wearing anything underneath, and I gawked shamelessly.

Her skin was white, the color of porcelain.  It didn’t seem to me the wrinkly skin of an old lady (she was only in her low or mid sixties, I realized later, hardly a geriatric).  Her skin wasn’t flawless; it was dotted with freckles and a few spots here and there, a few wrinkles and creases, and in some places like her neck and upper arms, it seemed slightly stretched and saggy.  No matter.  She was beautiful, tall and slender and regal.  Her breasts reminded me of two pears, pointing slightly down and out, and her nipples were long and red, almost like little fingers.  There was a slight bulge to her belly.  A very neatly-trimmed triangle of brown-grey pubic hair stood fluffily out, and her lips bulged out below that.  Her legs were long and shapely.  She finally seemed to notice me staring and blushed shyly.

“Not too bad for an old lady, I hope?”

“You’re beautiful.” I said.

“Thank you,” she said simply, stepping toward the couch and putting her hands on my shoulders.  She kissed my lips and I kissed her back, and I could feel myself melting.

After we had kissed for some time, my mind reeling with the sexiness and the strangeness of it, she gently pushed me down onto the red velvet settee.  I lay sprawled on the cushions on my back, and she climbed on top of me, placing her pussy conveniently within range of my tongue.

She started lavishing oral attention on my genitals, both hands gripping my ass as she licked my cock and balls, kissing the head and lightly nibbling at the shaft.  “Won’t you be a nice, well-behaved young man and start licking my cunt?” she asked.  I was thrilled to oblige.

She had big fat meaty labia that were already parted open for me, and her clit was big and red and engorged.  She tasted musky, salty with just a hint of spice.  She wasn’t incredibly soaking wet, but she was quite vocal in her appreciation of my technique, crying out loud and moaning out my name as I licked her pussy.  She licked having her fat clit licked hard, sucked on and even gently tugged at with my teeth.  She came for me that way almost at once, bucking and kicking as I buried my face in her crotch, sucking hard; and then she came again as I greedily sucked and licked as hard as I was able on her excited pussy and clit.  After two quick hard orgasms, she was showing no sign of slowing down.

Experimentally, I parted her cheeks, admiring her asshole.  She went still, holding her breath.  I dragged the tip of my tongue up from her gasping pussy, along the soft skin between her buttocks, then let my tongue dance around her pretty little anus.  She cooed and sighed, trying to shove her ass back toward me to get more of my tongue.  I flexed my tongue, trying to shove it all the way up her tight little hole.  The harder I licked her ass, the more excited she got, humping back against my face.  I was incredibly turned on by what I was doing to my Great Aunt; even though she had been neglecting my penis ever since her first orgasm, I was still rock hard, erect and flopping eagerly against her face.

“Oh my goodness you are good,” she gushed at last, clambering off of me, “I have got to have that thing inside me right now.”  She lay down on her stomach on the hardwood floor, snatching a pillow for her hips off the settee.  “You know what I want.  Come on Little Mister, fuck my ass.”

Her grey hair was spread out in a tangle around her shoulders, spilling all over the floor, her ass was raised up in anticipation, her fingers were busy down between her legs.  I climbed on top of her, took careful aim, and pressed the head of my cock against her tiny asshole.

“Let me know if it hurts,” I said.

“Just fuck me,” she gasped.

I pressed forward and her asshole swallowed me, accepting my cock easily and grasping it tight.  Her body was hot and strong.  I had to freeze, halfway impaled on her ass, holding my breath and biting my lip to keep from coming right away.

“Fuck me” she repeated.  She was already humping back against me.  Slowly, my dick disappeared up her butthole.  The feeling was exquisite. I could feel her masturbating, her fingers working busily on her pussy and her clit.  “Fuck my ass hard” she said, and I did.

It couldn’t have lasted very long.  Really I have no idea how much time it was.  I fucked her ass as hard as I could, shoving my cock all the way in, then pulling it back out again before plunging back inside.  She loved it, screaming and crying and fucking me back, encouraging me with every thrust.  “Put your come inside me, I want to feel you come!” she begged, and I was already there.  I exploded, pumping my semen into her asshole even as I continued fucking her with all my might.  Her ass clenched twitching on my cock as she came, screaming loud and shrill, her whole body shaking as if she were having a seizure.  I collapsed, covered in sweat, across her back, my penis still captured in the grip of her anus.

Finally she was done coming, and my diminished cock slipped out of her ass.  She lazily rolled over and kissed me on the forehead.

That” she said, “was delicious.  You can come back to Vermont and visit any time you like.  Now we’ve both got an early morning ahead of us.  We should be getting to bed.”

She gathered up her dress and left, leaving me still panting and sticky.  It was late and I was exhausted, and after a few minutes I collected my clothes and padded back to my own bed.


The ride to the train station the next morning was bittersweet, and slightly awkward.  We traded platitudes about how nice the summer had been and how it would be nice for me to see my friends again and how I really should come and visit again sometime soon.  Before she dropped me off at the platform, Great Aunt Matilda put her hand on mine and kissed me, first one cheek and then the other, and then on my lips.  I wasn’t sure if it was an affectionate kiss from my dignified older relative, or something less appropriate.

And then it was onto the train, the long and scenic ride down to Penn Station in Manhattan, where my friends and family waited for me, back to my own familiar bed in our little apartment, back to that now incredibly mundane-seeming stack of porno mags in my closet, back to school and teen angst and sexual frustration and the alluring but aloof and ever-elusive charms of Shannon Kelly.  I settled down in my seat and watched out the window as the towns and villages of New England rode by.


The Monday after we had tea with my mother, a large delivery van showed up outside out building, and workmen started unloading a massive crate.  Great Aunt Matilda had willed her antique wardrobe to me.

Elka took one look and shook her head.  “It won’t fit.  There’s no way they’ll be able to get that up the stairs, never mind into our apartment.  And where would we put it?”

“We’ll make it fit,” I said, “If we have to cut a hole in the roof and drop it in with a crane, we’ll make it work.”


Comments (8)

A Box of Letters

(The contents of an old Adidas shoe box, the letters neatly arranged in chronological order and tied up with a red ribbon.)


(a large brown envelope that also contains a number of glossy 8×10 photographs of somebody’s family reunion.  The one on top seems to have been taken in front of a grand old hotel.  A group of forty or so more-or-less related-looking people are clustered around a feisty-looking white haired old lady gripping a walker and wearing a hideous turquoise suit.  The other photos seem to center on the old lady and two other people: a girl in her early or mid twenties, with shoulder-length jet black hair, a long neck, strong cheek bones, and big brown eyes; and a guy who looks like a slightly taller, slightly older version of the same girl.)

Dear L,

I met my brother Stefan for the first time in over twenty years last week!  It was totally unplanned and unexpected.  I went to Ireland for my Nana’s ninetieth birthday celebration, and a ton of family was there, and there he was!  He’d heard about the party somehow and made the flight over himself.

Ireland was beautiful and Nana was great.  She seems so alive and sharp and so much younger than she actually is.  We all went walking in the countryside together.  We visited the farm where she was born.  Stefan and I talked a lot.  We have a ton of catching up to do!  We hadn’t seen each other since we were both little kids.  We traded phone numbers and stuff.  It turns out we don’t actually live that far apart.  He’s been in Phili the last eight years.

It was cool to see Nana in the place where she grew up, and it was neat to get together with so much family –cousins I didn’t even know I had- it was a fun trip and I was glad I went, even though I was SO sick on the plane ride back…!  I’m still recovering from the hangover.




(In a small, rose-colored envelope which also contains three 4×8 photographs.  The address and letter are written in neat feminine handwriting with purple ink.)


Stefan called just to make sure I got home ok!!!  Which was weird, because I was totally thinking of him when he called.  It was very sweet.   I am sending you a couple pictures.  Isn’t he a cutie??

Still working on the hangover.  Drinking lots of water and taking Advil.  What was I thinking, trying to out-drink the Irish??

Your Friend,


(The three pictures enclosed with the letter show a tall, skinny young man with a big open smile and messy, slightly shaggy hair.  In one of the pictures, he and A are walking down a country lane together.  There is a stone wall and sheep in the background.  Both of them are smiling happily and A is looking up at Stefan. They are walking close enough to be holding hands, but are not.)


(Written in black ball-point pen on ruled pages torn out of a spiral-bound notebook.  There is a coffee stain on the second page, and some of the words are so smudged as to be illegible.)

Dearest L-

Stefan called again last night, and we talked for hours!  It was a really amazing conversation.  We have so much in common!  It’s kind of bizarre… I mean, we like the same movies, the same music, the same authors… but it’s not just that.  It’s weird stuff too.  Like both of us almost went to Eastern, but then didn’t.  Like both of us spent a summer in Fairbanks, only two years apart.  Like we both lost our virginity at the exact same age, down to the month.  It’s spooky, I tell you.  Sometimes he seems to know what I’m thinking.  Sometimes I know what he’s going to say before he says it.  I feel like I’ve known him my entire life.   I asked him if he remembers mom at all, and he said he thinks so.  She is like an image on the edge of a dream for him, or maybe just a dream.  I don’t remember her at all, I was too young.

[two lines here are scratched out]

I guess it’s not really weird that I feel this intense connection with Stefan, but it feels weird.  Not weird in a bad way, not at all… more like that “Oh My God I’m Falling In Love” kind of weird.  Oh God, did I just say that?  I tell you, Stefan is such a great guy… smart, sweet, funny, kind…

[there is a smudge here, rendering the next two or three words totally illegible}

…if he wasn’t my brother I’d totally be jumping his bones right about now.  I can’t believe I even wrote that thought down.  You know I am going to go to hell.  We were on the phone forever, and it didn’t seem like we’d ever run out of things to talk about.  At the end we were both on the verge of falling asleep, and neither one of us wanted to be the one to hang up first.  It was silly and cute.  In the end we ended up counting to three together and hanging up at the same time.

I had the strangest dreams last night.  I don’t usually remember my dreams very well, but

[three words scratched out}

…anyway my dreams were incredibly vivid and really intense.  I was totally distracted all morning at work.  If my boss had any idea what I was doing instead of being productive…!!  So anyway I’m over at the coffee shop right now and I’m embarrassed to tell you all I can think about is Stefan.  I hope he calls again tonight.  Would it be too weird for me to call him if he doesn’t call me first?  I don’t want to seem pushy or give him the wrong impression.  Shit, I don’t even know anymore.  My stomach is all fluttery just writing this, and it’s not just the lack of sleep and the caffeine.  I don’t know when I’ve felt like this… it’s been a really long time, for sure. [there is a small illustration here, a stick figure with a big smile on its face]  I don’t know what’s going to happen, but right now it feels really good.




(on lavender stationary with a watermark depicting a vase of flowers.  Hand-written in purple ink)


I’m so glad I have you as a friend.  Who else would I be able to tell this stuff to??

So… He came to town yesterday.  (He, being Stefan, who else?)  It was a work thing, he was in meetings all day, but he was able to get away to have lunch with ME!  It turns out he comes to New York City on a fairly regular basis.  He even dated a girl in NYC for a while.  I wonder if we ever passed each other on the street, sat in the same train car… I only think that we must not have, because I can’t imagine that I could have seen him, even as a stranger passing on a crowded street, and not felt something.

Anyway, it was really great to see him again.  I was really really nervous about meeting up with him, like stomach-ache kind of nervousness.  I almost made myself sick, I was so stressed out.  I was afraid that it was going to be weird, awkward, or even worse, that the spark wouldn’t be there anymore, that our connection was just a product of my imagination all along.

Well, the connection was still there… at least it was for me, BIG TIME!  He walked into the café and I was like BOINK! Girly hard-on!  Totally salivating, drool, drool, drool.  I kept thinking to myself ‘Calm down girl, remember he’s your brother!’ But I couldn’t stop thinking those thoughts.

So lunch was really nice, I couldn’t tell you what we ate or anything… it was only about half an hour we were together, but it was the most BEAUTIFUL half-hour EVER!  He slid his chair over so we were sitting really close, and the closer he sat the hotter I got.  At one point he put his hand on mine (I have to tell you, Stefan has the most beautiful, HUGE hands in the world!), and it was totally like… insta-orgasm!!

I hope I didn’t embarrass myself.

He was so sweet and handsome and it was a lot of fun just to hang out and chat with him for a little while, but I couldn’t tell you one thing we talked about… the whole time I was thinking ‘What I really want is to be down on my knees sucking your dick.”

When I got back to work, it was so bad!  I swear I soaked right through my panties.  I was just squirming around in my chair all day, trying not to think sexy thoughts, which of course meant I was thinking nothing BUT sexy thoughts, and I couldn’t DO anything about it!  Grrrrrr!

I was fucking tearing my clothes off as soon as I got back to my apartment.  I barely made it into my bed!  Do you remember that purple silicone toy of mine?  Well, the vibrator part doesn’t work any more, but I still have it, it’s an old favorite.  I grabbed that thing from the desk drawer and fucking JAMMED it!  I was so wet, it was just ridiculous.  I came right away, all that pent-up sexual energy I’d been building up all day just bursting out of me.  I don’t know when I’ve ever come that hard… definitely not since me and Jason first started going out.  And that was just me getting warmed up…  I got off two or three more times after that, and I never even switched on my vibrator.

Oh L, I can’t believe I’m telling even you this stuff… So I was lying there on my bed like a porn star, working my way up to a fourth one, and my cell phone rings, and who do you think it was?!?

So I answer the phone, and Stefan just said he was calling to say hi and say how much he’d enjoyed getting together with me.  I felt like telling him exactly what I was doing and what I was thinking about him, I felt like sending him a picture from my phone of that big purple dildo jammed halfway up my juicy pussy, but of course I didn’t.  Maybe I should have, I don’t know.  I just pictured him, in his bed in his apartment in Phili, with his dick in his hand, softly softly softly stroking…..  Mmmm oh baby, I’d stroke that thing for you…!

Bad A!  Bad!!  He’s your freaking BROTHER for crying out loud!

It’s a good thing he lives in another city than me….

I might just have to masturbate again tonight.

Your Wanton Friend,



(an email, printed up on white computer paper)

He called again last night.  I’d already gone to bed, was ½ asleep when i answered the phone.  it was really nice just to hear his voice.  i think he was a little embarrassed to be calling so late.  Anyway, we just chatted for a while, and then we got onto talking about…  SEX.  OMG, much hotness!  Details soon!




(black felt-tip marker, printed in large capital letters on a napkin.  There is a picture underneath of a stick-figure drawing of a she-devil with exaggerated breasts, a scribbled triangle of pubic hair, a spiked tail and horns coming out of her head)



(spiral-bound notebook paper, blue fine-tip ballpoint pen)

Dear L,

I said I would give you details, so here goes!  Hold on to your hat, it gets pretty wild!  I don’t think there’s anyone else in the world I could tell this stuff to.  I know you won’t judge me.

So when he called the other night and we (of course) started talking about sex…… well we ended up jerking off together.  It was Super Hot.  I totally started it, totally led him on.  I’m telling you, Incredible Hotness!!  I think that was the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had, and I was really vocal about it, just for him.  I totally got off on hearing him come, too… So Sexy!!!

The next day I totally felt like a schmuck.  I was afraid I’d scared him off for good. I am his SISTER after all.  Who jerks off over the phone with his long-lost sister?

So then he called me, right after lunch, and when I picked up the phone and it was HIM!  I almost wet myself, seriously.  He told me that he was going to be in NY on Tuesday for a presentation, and would I like to get together for lunch?


So– we went to this bar near where I work.  It wasn’t quite noon yet and the place was pretty much empty.  I got a beer, he got a glass of wine.  We kind of snuggled up together in a booth.

I asked him if he wanted to talk about the conversation we had the other night.

He said No, he just wanted to enjoy this time with me.

And then he leaned over and kissed me… it was a really sweet kiss, with tongue and everything, and I tell you I absolutely melted.  I put my hand on the crotch of his pants, and he was totally hard!

You know me, I’m not a wild girl, I’m not a brazen strumpet… well apparently I can do a pretty good impression of one when I feel like it!  I slipped under the table, tugged down his zipper, pulled out his hard cock, and started blowing him right then and there.  And L, I have to tell you, my brother is hung!  He’s not stupid big, just… sizeable.  It’s like the perfect size for a penis.  Nice and thick and well-shaped and delicious… God I enjoyed going down on him!  Apparently he enjoyed it too.  I sucked him really hard, as much of him as I could comfortable fit inside my mouth, while I jerked him off.  It took all of, oh I don’t know, a minute or so, and then he was squirming and humping back against me and his dick was pulsating and then he filled my hungry mouth with gobs and gobs and gobs of boy come.  And I swallowed it all.

When I came back up to the surface, I kissed him on the lips, and he kissed me back, hard.  I think we both wanted to just ditch work and jet back to my apartment pronto for more fun and games, but he had that presentation, and I really did have to get back to work.  (grrr, stupid work!).  On the way out, the bartender gave us a look…!  I think she was just jealous, dirty little slut.  Haha.

I was looking at our pictures later on, and there’s no way around it.  We look alike, we totally look like brother and sister.  Hell, we could easily be taken for twins, even though he’s a year and a half older than me.  No wonder that bartender was giving us the hairy eyeball.

Stefan called me later on after his presentation was over. He thanked me for not getting any stains on his pants, which made me giggle, and asked if I wanted to get together again this weekend.  Of course I said yes.  So I’m going to take the train down to Phili Friday night after work.  I’ll let you know how it goes.

Love Always,



(written on yellow legal paper in pencil)


Shhh, Stefan’s still asleep!

I’ve got to get my shit together and get to the train station and back to NYC so I can go to work, but I don’t want to go!!!  I’d rather just stay here and play.

He met me at the train station.  He’d brought flowers, which was very sweet.  I wanted to go straight back to his place and rip all his clothes off, but he insisted on taking me out to dinner first.  Which was super sweet and gentlemanly and all, but totally unnecessary as it was already after ten and I was more horny than hungry.  We went to this nice quiet Italian place which turned out to be a little too quiet.  We got tired of waiting for our food to come and just split.  He was embarrassed, but it was fine by me.  We couldn’t keep our hands off each other in the taxi.  We were so bad!

Stefan has a basement apartment which is really small, but nice and comfortable.

[two lines are scratched out here}

I don’t know why I should be surprised at this point, his place felt really familiar and comfortable to me.  I could have lived there.  Anyway, as soon as the door closed behind us, clothes go flying.  I’m pulling off his clothes and he is tearing mine off.  Its funny, I wore matching bra and panties for him, this black skimpy lacey pair that I thought looked really sexy on me… I don’t think he ever even SAW them on me!

I am pleased to report that my brother looks at least as hot naked as he does dressed.  Especially with a big fat hard-on bobbling around.  Not that I had a lot of time to stand around and admire the view.  He picked me right up, carried me into his bedroom, and summarily deposited me onto his bed.

He started out be very graciously going down on me.  It was an unnecessary gesture– all I wanted right about then was his cock inside me!  Nonetheless, I have to say that Stefan is V*E*R*Y good at licking pussy… I was more than paid back for my under-the-table blowjob.

He very gentlemanly asked if he should put a condom on, and I said no.  He’s my brother after all, not some random dude.

And then he was inside me… Oh my gosh, I can’t even put into words how good it felt.  It was a perfect fit, like we were made for each other.  You know how usually the first time you have sex with someone, even if you’re crazy about each other and you’re both totally into it, it’s still a little clumsy at first?  This time not at all.  We found each other’s rhythm right away.  He starts pumping into me and I am humping back as hard as I can and he is gazing into my eyes, his face is a mask of concentration and I can feel my orgasm coming on and he wails out “Oh Shit I’m coming!” and we both came together….  I think I was really loud about it too. [smiley face] Oh, it was so goooood!  I liked the fact that his come was inside me too… it made me feel…

[word crossed out}

We fell asleep pretty much just like that, naked sweaty sticky, wrapped around each other.  Woke up at least once during the night and fucked again.  It was just so gooood!

Spent the next day (Yesterday… I can’t believe it was only yesterday, it already seems like centuries ago.  It already seems like Stefan and I have been together for ever) mostly in bed, popping out now and then for food and drink or to fuck around in the shower.  He showed me some of his pornography… he’s very cutely shy about that stuff, and it turns out we like the exact same stuff!!

Later on Stefan asked me very sweet and shy-like if he could fuck me in the ass.  Of course I said YES.  It turns out he’d never done that before.  It was really cute, he was really nervous about it… he didn’t need to be.  He could do anything he wanted to me!  Anyway, it was so fucking hot, having him fuck me like that…!  So intimate, so intense… I don’t think it would be inappropriate to call it a religious experience.  Did I mention that his dick is the perfect size?  I’ve never come just from anal sex before.  I didn’t even know it was actually possible!  I don’t think I even touched my clit! When we were cuddling later on, he suggested that we go buy a strap-on so he could experience that for himself.  I asked if he was serious and he blushed red and said ‘yeah, sure’.  Interesting idea, I sure wouldn’t say no to that…

And now here I am in Phili, getting ready to take a taxi to the train station.  My pussy is all raw and sore and I can smell him on me and I haven’t had any sleep and I grin every time I think of him and I am totally in a daze and I don’t want to go…..

Your Friend Always



(on a piece of Days Inn stationary, written with a ball-point pen that keeps threatening to run out of ink.  There are scribbles in the margins where the writer has tried to re-activate the pen)


I’ve been spending all my weekends with Stefan down in Phili.  I’m so happy when I’m with him and it’s not about the sex (ok, so maybe it is, but it’s not ALL about the sex) and I’m so lonely when we’re apart.  People are always asking us if we’re brother and sister, and we’ve started to get pretty good at looking surprised and saying ‘No, why do you ask?’ and they say ‘Oh, you two look like you’re related.’  I don’t know what to do… I’m in love with this guy.  Everyone would say this is so wrong.  Oh L, I really don’t know what we’re going to do.



(there are no more letters)

Comments (5)

Per Annum

I’d been thinking of her more or less constantly as the day approached, obsessing over her in the final weeks, surreptitiously stroking my cock late at night and picturing her body, her curves, trying to recapture the way she felt and smelled and tasted.  I tried to visualize her face, what she looks like when I am fucking her, but it always escaped me, and she’s never let me have a picture to remember her with.  I’d masturbate quietly in bed, my fingers barely moving, tiny caresses, just thumb and forefinger, up and down on my insistently erect, quivering penis as my wife snored softly next to me.  When I silently came, my back arched and my dick twitching, ejecting puddles of hot sticky come all over my tummy, my breath coming in little gasps, it was her that I was fucking, and I was coming deep inside her juicy grasping cunt.

I bought a plane ticket online, explained it away as a business trip, placed an add on Craigslist: Nightingale: meet me at the end of Elizabeth Street by the piers at the witching hour. It would all be so much easier if she’d just let me call her cell phone or email her, but she’s never given me an email address much less a phone number, and I suppose all the cloak-and-dagger business is just part of the fun for her.

The usual clusterfuck at the LaGuardia: my flight was listed as twenty minutes late, then delayed forty-five minutes, and then boarded on time only to push back from the gate and sit on the tarmac for an hour, slowly poisoning us with jet fuel fumes.

I was seated in a middle seat, between a college kid with dreads and a Nintendo and a businessman in a cheap-looking double-breasted suit who wanted to invade my personal space and kept crossing the demilitarized zone of my armrest with his elbow.  I changed planes in Chicago, and got a window seat.  The sweet grandmotherly type who sat next to me wanted to chit-chat the whole flight long.  If she only knew the real purpose of my trip, it’d stop her pacemaker.

My back was totally seized up by the time I got off the plane and wrangled the rental car.  I called my wife on the cell phone, told her I’d gotten in safe, lied and said I was checking into the hotel.  Got coffee and fast-food in a bag for dinner and struck out for the coast.

By the time I found the place and got parked, it was almost time.  The pier was just as empty as I’d imagined it, desolate, a couple of lonely fishing boats bobbing on the gentle swell.  There wasn’t a light to be seen.  Broken glass in the parking lot, a full moon riding high above the water.  I could just make out a figure below, pacing back and forth on the wooden dock.

Down a steep staircase, the dock creaking and moving gently under my feet, little waves lapping at the sides.  The water looked cold and black as ink.

She looked beautiful pregnant.  She must have been about halfway through; her belly was big and round but not yet immense like an over-filled water balloon.  She wore a simple black dress that only emphasized her great belly.  Her breasts were larger than I remembered, the rest of her frame slighter than my memory told me.  Her flesh was pale under the moon, her long dark hair halfway down her back.  She smiled when she saw me, one hand pressed unconsciously against her stomach, supporting the unaccustomed weight.

She kissed me lightly on the cheek.  If she thought I might be taken aback by her present condition, she said nothing about it.

She pulled the dress off, over her head, tossing it carelessly aside.  It landed in the water, instantly soaked through and washing away with the tide.  She stood before me, naked under the stars and the moon, presenting her body to me for inspection.

Her stomach was big and round, the skin stretched taut.  Her breasts were large and full, the nipples bigger and darker than I remembered, erect with cold and anticipation.  Blue veins made a spider’s web underneath her nearly translucent skin.  She’d let her pubic hair grow out into a neat dark triangle where her thighs met.  Her legs were long, and if her ankles were swollen at all I certainly couldn’t tell.

I quietly disrobed, feeling her eyes on me all the time.  I carefully folded my things, stacking them next to me on the wooden planks of the floating dock.  My cock was already erect, bobbing eagerly in the night air.

Her husband couldn’t possibly know about our annual meetings, could he?  I wondered what excuse she used to get away, and how she would manage it next year with a baby not even a year old.

I grabbed a fistful of her hair and forced her to her knees, shoving her mouth onto my cock as I twisted and yanked her thick black hair.  She whimpered slightly and I slapped her hard on the cheek, leaving my fingerprints in red on her pale skin.  She opened her mouth and swallowed my penis whole.

I started fucking her face hard, bouncing her head up and down with both hands as I fed her my cock, letting my balls slap against her chin, enjoying the way the slurping and gagging noises she was making mixed in with the noise of the waves and the creaking of the dock and the tied-up boats.  I could come so easily like this…

Before I got too excited, before I crossed over to the point of no return, I released her, sending her sprawling onto the rough planks.  Before she could recover, I once again grabbed her by the hair and dragged her, kicking and struggling, out to the very end of the pier.

Once again on her knees at the end of the pier, facing out to sea, the little waves lapping against the dock a few inches below.  Her pussy was wet, lips pouting open like the petals of a night flower, glistening in the moonlight.  I struggled with the condom as she waited impatiently, fumbling around with the wrapper and the slippery latex in the dark.  Finally I was ready, and I entered her with one thrust, brutally hard, burying my cock all the way to the hilts in her hungry cunt.

She was hot inside, amazingly hot and slippery wet and strong.  The contrast between her pussy and the cold night sea air was shocking.  As always, her pussy was sublimely tight, squeezing and grasping and milking my rampant cock like a living glove.

Her pregnant belly was resting on wooden dock.  With my hand entangled in her hair, I forced her face down, down, down into the cold black water.

Her ass quivered delightfully as I fucked her, and I slapped her hard again and again, leaving bright red handprints all over her buttocks.  I wondered how she planned on hiding those from her husband the next day.  Her big swollen breasts shook with every thrust, every blow, dipping down almost to the surface of the water.  Once a minute or so I would yank her head up from under the waves, letter her draw in a breath as she choked and gasped before shoving her face under water again.  The feeling of her cunt on my cock as her body struggled involuntarily, half-drowning, was exquisite.  In a different time, in a different place, that baby growing inside her could have been mine.

I admired her ass, spread out before me like two down pillows.  Her tiny little pink crinkled asshole winked with excitement.  I’ve never fucked her there; she’s told me several times that if I ever tried, I’ll never see her again.  I wonder if her husband is allowed to fuck her in the ass.

I pressed my thumb into her asshole.  Her butt swallowed me greedily, clamping down on my invading digit.  I could feel my cock thrusting inside her cunt.  I was so close to coming, I could feel myself slipping over the edge.

I pulled my thumb out and hastily withdrew my cock from of her grasping juicy pussy, clamping down hard to keep from coming.  She’s told me before if I ever come inside her, we are through, I will never see her again.  Her juices were slathered all over the condom.

I lifted her head up out of the water.  Her face was all red and her eyes were open but unseeing.  I waited while she coughed and choked, lying naked and dripping, breathing hard and raspy on the wood planks of the dock.  A couple fat droplets of milk were leaking out of her nipples, dribbling out into the night.

She got up and hit me, hard in the face, busting my lower lip.  I felt it swell up immediately, filling my mouth with the salty, iron taste of blood.  Then she walked up the dock, toward where her car was parked, leaving me alone.

I sat cross-legged at the end of the dock and waited.  It was cold, and I started to shiver, but I didn’t move to put on any clothes.  My erection started to sag, and I unrolled the condom and set it aside.

She came back from her car, wearing a man’s blue button-down shirt, and sat down next to me.  High above us, a million stars watched impartially.

I lay flat on my back, and she straddled my face.  Her pussy was still swollen and thick with tangy wetness.  From this vantage point, her belly looked immense.  Her bellybutton was threatening to pop out.  Blood from my split lip smeared onto her thighs, painting them in messy strokes of red.

I knew what she wanted.  I stuck out my tongue, as far as it would extend, and she lowered herself onto me, doing all the work herself.  She’d drag her freshly fucked cunt up and down my face, sometimes lightly, sometimes hard, sometimes mashing herself down onto me with no regard for whether I could breathe or not, sometimes lifting up so I had to crane my neck just to touch her with the tip of my tongue.  My dick slowly regained itself, straining upward in the cool night air as I licked with everything I had.  Her clit was big and red and swollen.  Her breathing changed, becoming shallower and more rapid as she got more and more excited.  She was insanely wet, and it was all over my face and in my hair.  My tongue ached and my neck cramped and my cock bobbed eagerly at nothing.  Finally she climbed off and had me roll over onto all fours.

One finger, wet with saliva and her own come, invaded my asshole.  It was swiftly followed by another.  She straddled me, sitting on the small of my back, finger-fucking my ass while she reached under and pumped my thick heavy cock.

The fingers deep in my asshole were intense, just on the edge of what I could take.  Not that there was any likelihood of her stopping if it became too much, no.  I stifled a little cry as the two fingers were joined by a third, stretching me out, probing deep inside me.

She worked my cock expertly.  She knew exactly how to touch me, how to bring me right to the edge.  Her fingers teased me, rubbing the underside of the head, squeezing the shaft tight and pumping hard and fast, then releasing me.  Every time she felt me getting close, my cock swelling and humping at the air, she would take me down a notch or two, cruelly squeezing my poor vulnerable balls in her hand.

I think she had all four fingers up my butt and was working on getting the thumb in there too.  She might have gotten her whole damn hand inside if we’d had some proper lube.  I was howling at the moon, not knowing whether I was in excruciating pain or exquisite pleasure.  Her hand was pumping hard and fast on my swollen cock as her fingers plunged even deeper into my ass, stretching me to the absolute limit and banging rudely against my prostate.  This was the moment that I would picture in my mind’s eye for the next 364 days when I masturbated or when I made love to my wife.

My orgasm started in my toes, and curled up through my entire body.  With a long, low, drawn-out groan I came.  The pleasure came in waves and peaked like breaking surf.  It seemed to last impossibly long.  As my climax finally faded, she diligently milked all the semen out of my wilting cock.  A big iridescent puddle of come spread out on the planks underneath me.

One hand still halfway up my butt, she moved on to the serious work of getting herself off.  I could feel her wetness all over the skin of my back, and I could feel her desperately strumming her clit like a heavy-metal guitarist.  Finally, body rigid and back arched, holding her breath, she silently came.  I could feel her trembling and jerking as she rode me through her orgasm.

We disentangled, and I got dressed.  Then we sat together for a few minutes more.  It was cold out, so I put my arm around her.  Her skin felt nice pressed against mine.  She put my hand on her stomach, and I felt the baby kick inside her.  A shooting star streaked across the night.  After a little while she got up and walked up the pier to her car.  When she had driven off, I got in my rental car and drove away into the night, in search of a motel and a hot shower.  I wondered how I’d explain away the fat lip once I got home.

On the flight home, I fidgeted uncomfortably in my seat.  My ass was sore and my balls were tender and swollen.  I felt discombobulated, slightly dizzy, with a sick, empty feeling sitting like a lump at the bottom of my stomach.  I had never figured myself for the cheating type.  I felt hollow, as if my skin were made of thin-gauge sheet metal and all my insides were clockwork.  And so it was to be for yet another year.


Comments (4)

Function, Limit, Derivative

The first time Mia ever made my pussy twitch was in fourth-period calculus.  It was at the end of class and she was sitting directly in front of me, and when she bent over to pick up her books which were stacked on the floor by her desk, the back of her shirt rode up, giving me a momentary view of the pale skin of the small of her back, the ridgeline of her spine, the frilly baby-blue waistband of her panties, and the merest suggestion of the dimple of the top of her butt crack.  My nipples perked up, my skin flushed pink, the hair on my arms stood up, and my pussy moistened noticeably.

This was not unusual at the time.  I was going through a phase where I was ridiculously easy to turn on.  The sight of a nipple poking through someone’s shirt, a glimpse of underwear, a tasty looking bulge in the front of someone’s blue jeans; my pussy would salivate and my clit would perk right up.  If I had been a guy I would have been walking around school with a mortifying hard-on all day; as it was, I came home with damp panties every day.

Mia was an attractive girl, tall and slender and athletic, with long, carefully brushed-out blonde hair and big blue eyes that made one think of a Victorian porcelain doll; but she might as well have been from another planet, as far as I was concerned.  She was one of those ‘good’ girls, to the nth degree: she maintained a 4.0 grade average, she was on the varsity volleyball team, and she was vice-president of the student council.  We had never so much as spoken to each other.

We never would have spoken either, most likely, except that I had a car and she didn’t, and I lived way out on the peninsula, and she lived even further out on the peninsula, and she missed the after-school bus one afternoon.

I was not one of the good girls.  I wasn’t an especially bad girl either.  I got a steady stream of A-minuses and B-pluses, mostly because I was smart but too lazy to work hard at any classes other than math and physics.  I had been hanging out after school in the math lab, nominally working on some classic proofs but in actuality storming a goblin-infested dungeon with our half-orc battle mages and elven archers and she-dwarf warriors with a bunch of dorky guys who (I was fairly certain) hadn’t even learned to masturbate yet.

I saw Mia, looking rather forlorn, trudging out of the school parking lot, so I pulled over and offered her a ride.  She was still all pink and flushed from volleyball practice and fresh out of the shower, and when she climbed into my car and smiled gratefully at me, my pussy twitched in a big way.

In the car, we fumbled around looking for common ground, trying to find something to talk about as I maneuvered us down the long, winding, two lane roads of the peninsula.  She was interested in sports, colleges, SATs, graphic design, and boys.  I was interested in math, punk rock, sci-fi and fantasy, D&D, and filthy pornography (though I wasn’t about to bring that subject up in the car!)  We didn’t have much luck, and the conversation quickly sputtered into an awkward silence.

Eventually we were at her place, about three miles up the road from my house.  I steered the car down a long, rutted driveway.  Her place was a double-wide mobile home with a damp-looking, heavily sagging wooden porch added on, and a rusty turquoise pickup truck with four flat tires and a peeling Bush/Cheney sticker on the bumper rusting in the front yard.

“Well, here we are,” Mia said ruefully, “Thanks again for the ride.”

“You’re welcome,” I said, “anytime.”

She did not get out of the car.  I switched off the ignition.  My pussy twitched violently.

For a long, long minute, we sat there, stewing in the sexual tension, staring at each other.

I reached out, across the armrest, and touched her, tentatively, just barely stroking the inside of her elbow.

Mia reacted like a wolf spider, pouncing on me from across the car.  All of a sudden she was kissing me furiously, mauling my breasts through my sweatshirt, biting my lips and trying to force her tongue all the way down my esophagus.

I’d never kissed a girl before.  The truth is, I hadn’t ever really been kissed at all before that day.  I was a nerd, and my friends –who were few and far between- were also nerds, and we were about as socially sophisticated as a UNIVAC mainframe.  I personally spent my days doing math and playing D&D, and my nights surfing the internet for porn and masturbating more or less constantly.

I surrendered to it, kissing her back, pawing at her body, making it up as I went along, my heart pounding in my chest like I was a marathon runner or something, my pussy drooling into my panties and my clit pulsing and aching and swelling up like a bing cherry on steroids.

I’m not sure just how long we made out in the front seat of my Nissan Stanza, but it was a while.  Long enough to steam up the windows, long enough for the sticky dampness to soak through my panties and seep through the crotch of my jeans, long enough for us to find a rhythm, a common language, long enough for me to start to get good at kissing her back.

Finally, Mia broke away, looking dazzled and dazed and a little panicked.  “I’ve got to go now” she blurted out, “My dad’ll be home soon.”

She picked up her sweater, which had somehow come off while we were tongue-wrestling, and climbed out of the car, slamming the door behind her and running across the yard and into her house.

I sat there for a few minutes behind the steering wheel, in a light-headed, inner-ear spinning haze of shock, confusion, and full-body horny lust.  Then I drove home, where I was just in time for dinner, and where I politely squirmed through an evening with my parents, waiting impatiently for a chance to go upstairs, get naked, watch nasty porn videos, cram a hairbrush handle up my twat, molest and maltreat my electric toothbrush, and whack off into delicious oblivion.


The next day at school, Mia ignored my presence, which was kind of depressing but not really unexpected.  I sat behind her in calculus (the only class we had together) and silently fumed and lusted after her body.

After school I found crap to do in the math lab until practice let out, and Mia didn’t get on the activities bus.

“I don’t know what you think,” she said to me in the car, “but I’m not a dyke.”

“I’m not one either” I said.  In reality, I didn’t know what the fuck I was.  In porn the thing I mostly liked best was surfer-dudes with washboard tummies and big hard dicks (oddly enough, I mostly had to go to gay sites to find these); but at the moment all I could think about was licking Mia’s pussy.

The drive out the peninsula was long and tense and silent.  When I dropped her off at her place, there was an old Honda parked next to the rotting pick-up.

“My dad’s already home,” Mia said as she got out of the car, “What are you doing later on?”

“Uh, nothing, I guess.”

“Meet me at the end of my driveway then, at twelve o’clock.”

I felt like I’d rolled a twenty!


I’d never sneaked out of the house before.  It felt weird, juvenile and exciting.  I backed away from our house with the headlights turned off, clenching the steering wheel so tight my knuckles turned white and my hands threatened to cramp up.

Mia was standing at the end of her driveway, wearing black canvas high-tops, faded blue jeans and a purple hoodie.  It was the first time I’d ever seen her wear blue jeans.

“Hi” I said stupidly as she got into the car.  It was chilly enough that I could see her breath coming in faint white puffs.  I put the car in gear and we drove away aimlessly.

“I never,” she snapped, “Ever want to be like my parents.”

“Why’s that?  What’s up with your parents?”

“They’re divorced.  My dad works at the lumber mill and he’s a knee-jerk republican.  My mom does telemarketing and gets by on food stamps.  Neither one of them ever went to college.  They’re ignorant.  I hate them.”

“I’m sorry…” I said and she snorted annoyedly, “So what did you want to do tonight?”

“What do you think I want to do?”

I thought I knew what she meant.  My pussy certainly did.  Between my legs it felt hot and moist.  A certain part of my mind couldn’t really believe this was really happening to me.

“I know a place we can park,” she said, “There’s an abandoned logging road up here a ways.”

I drove as far as I dared up the rutted dirt road.  Finally, at a level spot wide enough to turn the car around, I killed the engine.  The full moon was peeking through the trees, bright enough to cast distinct shadows.  We attacked each other.

We kissed for a while there in the car, her hands in my hair, our lips pressed together, our tongues dancing.  Mia was groping my boobs through my t-shirt.  I liked it.  I slid a hand up inside her hoodie and found her smaller breast.  I squeezed it through her shirt and bra.  It felt amazing in my hand, warm and soft.  I could feel her nipple, erect through the various layers of fabric.

Mia reclined the passenger seat.  “Why don’t you come on over here?” she asked, “It’ll be more comfortable.”

I clambered over and snuggled up next to her.  It felt nice being so close, having her body pressed up against mine.  I liked the way she smelled, the way she tasted.  She was hot.

As we kissed, she was fumbling with my zipper, trying to tug my pants down.

“Hold on a second,” I said.  I pulled my t-shirt off over my head and wiggled out of my bra.

“They’re beautiful!” Mia whispered, “God you’re hot!  I wish I looked like you!”

Which was funny, I thought, because Mia was tall and skinny and blonde and had a really sexy butt.  I’d always thought of myself as frumpy.

She left off kissing me and went to work on my breasts, kissing them all over and sucking on the nipples, which felt really good and made them stand out like red gumdrops.  Meanwhile she had worked one hand down the front of my pants, where my pussy was sopping wet.

I moaned out loud and spread my legs and raised my ass, pulling my pants halfway down while Mia sucked on my tits.

Suddenly she was inside me, and the world shifted slightly on its axis.  Her fingers were in my cunt.  I couldn’t believe how fucking wet and turned-on I was.  I shifted again, trying to get her plunging fingers to find my aching clit, but she was intent on finger-fucking me as deep and as hard as possible.

I was right on the edge of a massive come.  Screw it, I’d just have to take matters into my own hands.  Releasing her breasts, I reached down between my legs and started circling my clit while Mia fingered me.  It was like pouring gasoline on a bonfire.  I went off hard and long, coming all over her long sexy fingers, thrashing around and cursing and screaming and panting and whimpering until I collapsed in a sweaty heap on top of her.  It was the best one I’d ever had.

“Wow!” she said, her eyes sparkling. “That was amazing!”

I could only kiss her.

“I’d like to go down on you” I said.




She pulled off her hoodie and the black shirt she had on under it.  She unsnapped her bra, setting her breasts free.  They were small and somewhat conical, like a pair of ice-cream cones.  The nipples were hard and pointy and tilted slightly up.  Then she lifted up her ass and scooted down her blue jeans and her pink panties, and she was naked in my car.

She had long, muscular pale legs and a furry little pussy that pouted excitedly open.  I knelt in the space under the glove compartment, her legs spread and her feet resting on the dashboard.  She smelled incredibly sexy.

I was a little afraid the taste would be gross, but it wasn’t.  She tasted clean and musky.  A lot like my own taste, but different.  I could feel the heat coming off her wet pussy.  I started by teasing her, licking all around, her inner thighs, her belly button, the backs of her knees, but that didn’t last long.

I dove in, parting her lips with my tongue, probing up inside her, circling her clit.  She sighed and pressed up against my face.  I felt sexy and powerful licking her like that.  I wanted her to come on my face, to grind her pussy onto me as she orgasmed, screaming out my name as she came.

I licked her pussy until my jaw ached.  I loved pleasuring her.  Her juices were all over my face.  I tried slipping my fingers up her pussy.  She was super tight down there, and I could only get my finger a little way in.  I guessed that meant she was a virgin.  (I was a bona fide virgin too, but I’d never had any compunction about putting things in my pussy: toothbrushes, carrots, small cucumbers, hairbrush handles…)

Mia certainly enjoyed having my fingertips playing with the entrance to her cunt while I licked her clit.  She made a lot of gasping and groaning noises, wiggling around gratifyingly as I working my tongue all over her vulva.

Feeling courageous and emboldened, I slipped one wet finger between her gorgeous ass cheeks, probing that dark, secret territory I secretly lusted after so badly.  My fingertip found that crinkled little bud that must be her anus, and I gently explored her ass, drawing little concentric circles with my finger, closer and closer to her sweet little asshole.

She pulled violently away.  “No!  Don’t ever touch me there!  That’s gross… and perverted.”

Chagrined, I withdrew the offending finger.

I concentrated on licking her hard little clit, dragging my tongue across it like a kitten lapping up milk, and playing with her pussy lips and the opening of her pussy.  Her wetness was everywhere.  I must have gone down on her for over an hour; when she finally pushed me away the clock on the dashboard said it was almost two.

“Thank you for doing that,” Mia said, “That felt really nice.”

I finally had a chance to really look at her naked.  She looked beautiful like that, all sweaty and flushed, her hair mussed up and her nipples puffy and erect and her pussy all slick wet and swollen.

We were both half-drunk with exhaustion and sex.  I was swimming with lust and overloaded sensation.  “Would you mind doing me again?”

“You could do that again?” she asked incredulously.

“Oh yeah.”

We exchanged positions, and I pulled my pants off all the way, so she was laying on top of my naked body, kissing my lips and my neck and face and ears, her breasts pressed up against mine while she fingered my super wet pussy.  I wanted to ask her to play with my asshole, but I didn’t dare.  Once again I had to help out when it came to the crux, strumming my clit madly while she finger-fucked me, but it gave me the second-best orgasm of my life.

Later on, when I was driving her home, it was three in the morning and we both had to be up for school in a couple hours, Mia said “I wish I could come like you do.  I’ve never been able to.  I’m so jealous of the way you can do that.”

I dropped her off at the top of her driveway.  We exchanged phone numbers and agreed to get together again ‘really soon’.  I thought about kissing her goodnight, but she was already gone.


Mia and I continued to be strangers to each other at school.  Several times a week though, one of us would call the other, and we would get together late at night at the end of the logging road.  She would finger me to orgasm after orgasm and I would go down on her, licking her pussy and her clit until she had had enough.

I was caught between heaven and hell.  We still had nothing to talk about, and we publicly disdained each other, but all of a sudden my sex life had gone from zero to warp speed.

The phone rang during dinner and my mom answered it.

“It’s your friend Mia” my mom said, handing me the receiver.

“Can you come pick me up?” Her voice sounded shaky and I could tell she’d been crying.

I found her on a lonely stretch of road between strip malls, trudging along the shoulder, looking forlorn.

“I was on a date with Tommy Cartwright” she told me in the car.  Tommy was the quarterback on our high school football team.  “We had dinner at the Olive Garden.  Then he wanted me to suck his dick right away, and he got all pissed off when I wouldn’t, and he threw me out of the car and left me.” She sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand.  “I would have given him an excellent blowjob too, if he hadn’t been so pushy about it.”

Our regular parking spot was no good.  There were a couple pickup trucks parked in our place.  Hunters.  I gingerly backed the car down the rutted road.

We ended up parking in an empty parking lot next to the boat launch at the State Park, under a big bare maple tree, whose leafless branches rubbed together in the wind like a multitude of dry old fingers.  The water was rough and I could hear the waves slapping the pebbly beach.  It was already dark and getting stormy and the place seemed likely to stay deserted and we were both feeling pretty desperate.

She started crying again while we were kissing.  I tried to soothe her, but she just kissed me harder, pulling my hands underneath her blouse.  It was a little scary, holding her like that while she was weeping, and her hot salty tears were all over my face.

“I want you to fuck me” she finally choked out.

Our clothes went flying, though this time (on the off chance that a park ranger or a fisherman or somebody might pull into the parking lot) we left our tops on.

I crawled down into my customary position between her knees and started licking.  Her pussy wasn’t wet and open and excited the way I was used to it; it seemed extra small and vulnerable.

“Not like that,” she said as I drew my outstretched tongue along the furry pursed crease of her vulva.  “I want you to fuck me.”

I parted her labia, exposing her delicate pink bits.  I teased her with my fingertips, pressing my way just inside her tight pussy.

“Come on” Mia growled, “Fuck me!”

I slicked up my fingers with the juice the was oozing out of my own conveniently sopping wet pussy and pressed two fingers up between her lips.  We stayed that way for a long moment, hovering on the threshold.  Then she bucked her pelvis, jerking toward me at the exact same instant that I pushed against her.  I felt her hymen tear, and then I was inside her, all the way up inside her body, knuckle-deep in her pussy.

“OUCH!” she jerked violently away from me, “SHIT!  FUCK! OW!” It was the first and only time I ever heard Mia curse.  “Goddamnit, I didn’t expect it to hurt that bad.”

She was bleeding freely, all over the passenger seat of my car.  It wasn’t as dark and it was more liquid than period blood, and it was getting everywhere.  She pulled up her panties.  The crotch was almost immediately stained dark red.

“Ok,” she said, “Thank you for doing that.  Could I go down on you now?”

That sounded fine by me.  In all the time we had been fooling around she hadn’t so much as tasted me.

Mia got between my thighs, crouching down in my usual spot in front of the passenger seat.  I spread my legs wide for her, admiring how beautiful she looked from this perspective.

She started licking me, tentatively at first and then more and more eagerly.  It was a revelation.  It felt amazing!  Even better than my electric toothbrush.  Her tongue felt huge and soft and it drove me absolutely insane!  Almost right away I was coming on her face, and coming hard, writhing around in the passenger seat, bucking around, pulling her head into my pussy.  It was the first time she had ever gotten me off unassisted.  I came two or three more times, right in a row, and I had to pull her off of me when my clit became too sensitive.

She came up beaming.  “I liked that!” she said.  Her face was all shiny with my juices.  “I liked that a lot.”

“Me too!” I said, and we kissed.


Math was really the only subject that Mia had trouble with.  She had to work hard to earn her ‘A’s in calculus.  She really had no business being in that class, and had been getting through by force of will alone.  I started helping her with her homework.  She’d come over to my house and we’d ‘study’ together.  It was a good excuse for us to get together, and we actually did a pretty good amount of actual studying.

We were working on limits and derivatives, and Mia was having a really hard time with the whole concept.  One night, we spent so much time and energy going over the homework that we barely even had sex.

The next day in class, when the teacher asked another hapless kid a question about the limit formula that he answered wrong, she let out a resounding “Duh!”   The whole class laughed, and she proudly recited the definition of a limit, just the way I had drilled her to at eleven o’clock the night before.  I was disgusted with her.

That night in the car, I told her that she’d been a real bitch in class.

“If you think I’m such a bitch,” she sneered, “Why don’t you treat me like one?”

She had such a nasty, smug look on her face that I lost control.  I slapped her full across her face.  We were both pretty shocked.  The inside of the car was silent.

“Oooh, I think I liked that,” she said, “Do it again!”

I grabbed a big fistful of her hair, yanking it hard and forcing her over.  Her skirt rode up, and I started spanking her panty-covered ass.

She ended up on her knees on the passenger seat, her ass thrust up and her face mashed against the headrest.  I pulled her panties down around her thighs and continued spanking her bare ass as hard and as fast as I could, until her butt was covered with the red welts and my own hand ached and stung.  Then I shoved my face into her pussy, which was wetter than I’d ever experienced it, and licked her for all I was worth.

I licked her pussy and clit until she was squirming away, begging me to stop, and then I kept on licking.  She squealed and shrieked “No! No! No!” and tried to get away from me, but I was having none of it.  I kept my face buried in her sticky slippery vulva, my tongue mashed up against her clit as her shrieks got more and more desperate and then  turned into sobs.

Somehow she got the passenger door open, and she finally tumbled out into the night, landing on her back in the gravel and the mud.  I landed on top of her, and we kissed like that for a long time, next to my car under the trees and the stars, surrounded by discarded beer cans and tall dewy grass.

After that, we started playing rough a lot.  We discovered that the meaner I was to her, the more she it turned her on.

Mia liked having her hair pulled.  She liked to be spanked, as hard as I could spank her.  She liked having her nipples cruelly pinched and twisted.  She liked it when I crammed three and even four fingers up her tight cunt.  She even liked having her pussy and clit lightly slapped.  One night, after we had drank some whiskey she’d stolen from her dad and smoked some pot I’d stolen from my parents, she convinced me to pee on her while she lay on her back in the dirt.  I straddled her, and after a couple false starts, I pissed all over her breasts and stomach while she grinned up at me.  I don’t think she would have objected if I’d peed on her face.

Things began to get a little less icy between us.  We started hanging out a lot, in between her volleyball games and track meets and my D&D campaign, and it wasn’t always just so that we could do math homework or fuck.  We still didn’t have very much in common to talk about, but now that seemed ok.  Sometimes we went shopping, or had dinner, or just hung out.  Sometimes we’d hold hands in public.  I liked that.

I had just about made up my mind to ask Mia to go to the prom with me.  It was the week before the dance and we were in my car together, just starting to get warmed up into a serious sex session.  I was about to ask her when she cut me off.

“Guess who asked me out to the prom today?” she beamed.

My heart sunk.  “Who?” I asked.

“Tommy Cartwright!”

“And what did you tell him?”

She gave me a look.  “Well, of course I said ‘Yes’!”

It ended up being the last time we ever had sex.  She got on her hands and knees for me in the passenger seat, and I started licking her pussy from behind while I tormented her breasts, pinching and pulling on her nipples as I licked, not really caring whether I was hurting her too much.

I pried apart those beautiful butt cheeks, exposing her tiny pink crinkly little anus.  I slurped her ass hungrily, trying to force my tongue up her clenched butt hole.  When she protested, I ignored her, yanking on her pubic hair and slapping her ass hard while drilling at her butt hole with my tongue.

I could hear her telling me to stop, but I didn’t care.

I wet one finger with my spit and stuck it rudely up her butt.  “No!” she squealed and tried to pull away, but I had a handful of her pubes, so she didn’t get far.  Her asshole was ridiculously tight, but eventually I worked my finger all the way in.  She wasn’t struggling any more.  She might have been crying, I couldn’t tell.  Her pussy was soaking wet.

I proceeded to fuck her really hard, two fingers up her asshole, two fingers up her cunt, and my thumb all over her clit.

“Oh my god, I’m gonna come!” she wailed, “I’m gonna come… I’m coming!”

It was true, she was, and it was beautiful.  Her whole body went rigid and trembled, and her breath came in shallow rapid gasps.  Her stomach shook and contracted and her toes clenched spasmodically.  Her asshole and pussy squeezed my fingers impossibly hard, relaxed, and then squeezed again.  I was soaking in her wetness.  I gently slid my fingers out of her exhausted body as the trembling subsided.  I kissed her sweet ass cheek one last time and then turned her head to kiss her on the lips.

She pushed me away.

“Take me home” she said coldly.

We got dressed silently, and I did.


After that we stopped speaking to each other.  Apparently Mia spread a rumor around the school that I was a lesbian, but that didn’t bother me very much; the guys I hung out with in the math lab didn’t really hear rumors and anyway I was pretty sure they had only the vaguest idea of what a lesbian was.  And besides, if it hadn’t been for that nasty rumor, I would probably never have gotten together with Violet and her sometimes-boyfriend Mark.  Violet was a quiet, weird girl who wore all black and did the lights for all the school plays, and Mark was an unobtrusively pleasant fat kid who always seemed to be hanging out in the library.  They were really into 17th century costume and warfare, and they were really, really kinky.

The math geeks and I stormed the underground citadel of the Spider Queen, but she escaped, slipping away just ahead of our swords and arrows and magic.  Mia got a B-plus in calculus, spoiling her perfect 4.0 average.  I went on the study finite dimensional topology and Hausdorff vector spaces at MIT.

Six or seven years later, I ran into Mia totally at random on the street in Tacoma.  I was taking a break from my post-graduate studies to visit the fam.  She dragged me into a café and insisted on buying me coffee.

She had two kids, a rambunctious five-year old boy, and a squirmy two-year old girl.  She was divorced, and owned a small art gallery, did freelance graphic design to help make ends meet.  She had cut her hair short and wore Venus sign earrings.  Her kids were beautiful and she looked happy.

“I’ve been waiting for a chance to apologize for years now.  I’m sorry I was such a bitch to you in high school.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I told her, “I’m not exactly proud of what I did either.  I’m sorry too.  Anyway, it all turned out ok in the end.”

“Thank you” she said, “Thank you for saying that.  You know, being with you really changed my life.  It changed my life for the best.”


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When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was a strange man sleeping next to me in my bed.  I must say, I reacted to this discovery pretty calmly.  I didn’t scream or otherwise freak out.

Very gingerly, so as not to wake him, I peeled back the covers and rolled out of bed.  I’d been sleeping naked, as has been my habit since I was a little girl.

For a strange dude asleep in my bed, at least this one was pretty cute.  He had a high forehead and strong cheekbones, and his chin was all bristly with stubble.  His mouth was open slightly, and he snored softly, with one arm thrust out as if to embrace someone who wasn’t there.

I tiptoed into the bathroom to pee and brush my teeth and get my head on straight.  My nipples were tender, as if they’d been sucked on a lot, and my pussy was pleasantly sore and juicy; apparently I’d had fun last night.

There was a post-it stuck to the mirror over the sink, and scrawled in hasty red magic marker:





Back in the bedroom, I carefully peeled back the sheets.  Ken was sleeping naked too.  His soft little cock was too cute not to kiss.  As soon as my lips touched it, it twitched and started to swell slightly.  I very lightly traced my tongue across his crinkled scrotum and along the underside of his still-flaccid penis.  He tasted salty and sexy, and his cock continued to swell in a most gratifying way.

He shifted, rolling over onto his back.  His eyes were still closed, and if he wasn’t still completely asleep, he certainly wasn’t quite awake yet either.  His cock was now fully erect, and my boy Kenny was possessed of one very attractive penis.  It was big; long without being too long, fat without being too fat, circumcised with a bulbous well-defined head and the whole thing had an interesting upward curve to it.  My pussy twitched wetly.  I wished I remembered…

I softly swirled my tongue all around the big knobby purple head, exploring the ridges and textures and enjoying his taste.  He swelled even more and I could feel his pulse beating in his cock.  I wanted to eat him.

His big cock flopped wetly against his flat tummy, and his eyes flickered sleepily open.  He smiled slowly and stretched, arching his back like a lazy cat.  I swallowed his hard cock whole.

I loved having that big hot hard living thing in my mouth.  His hands played with my hair as I lavished affection all over his penis with my tongue.  I started bobbing my head slowly up and down, taking as much of him as I could and then releasing him until the head was balanced precariously between my lips, then engulfing him all over again.  He started humping back, matching my tempo, slowly at first and then more and more urgently.

I wrapped the fingers of one hand around the base of his cock and started jerking him off into my mouth, quick little butterfly strokes.  My other hand cupped his balls, gently squeezing him, my fingertips teasing the soft skin of his taint and the dark secret crack where his ass cheeks met.  He was moaning and groaning in the most sexy way, lifting up off the bed to meet my wet mouth.  I released his balls and, still pumping his erection between my thumb and forefinger, I let one exploratory finger slide up between his ass cheeks.

I circled his crinkly little anus with my finger, and the moans and groans increased in volume and urgency, and he started fucking my mouth harder, bucking and thrashing around.  I wanted to taste him, taste him, feel him come.  I pressed my finger up against his hole, and his anus opened up and let my finger slide all the way in to the second knuckle.  He was hot and tight, and I could feel his body pulsing.  With a howl, he arched his back, shoving his cock deep into my mouth, his entire body trembling.  Ignoring my aching shoulder, I jerked his cock as fast as I could, keeping my mouth wrapped around his cock.  He shot off into my mouth, flooding me with his hot, salty-bitter come, his ass spasming and grasping at my probing finger.

At last I released him, licking my lips like a satisfied cat, admiring him lying disheveled on my bed, the picture of a very satisfied man.

He smiled very big and stretched again and rolled over, revealing one of the cutest little white butts I’ve ever had the pleasure of ogling.  I was just starting to wonder how long his turn-around time might be, and whether he’d be at all interested in licking my pussy in the meantime.  Then he saw the clock on my bedside table.

“Oh crap,” he said, sitting up, “I’m going to be late for work if I don’t hustle bunnies!”

I lay on the bed and watched him hurriedly get dressed.  I think that’s so sexy; I love watching a guy –or a girl- get dressed.  I wished that I had time to properly masturbate, but I’d seen the clock too, and I also was running late for work.

“Thanks for everything!” he said, “Last night was amazing, and so was this morning!  I hope we can all get together again soon.  Tell Ana I’ll see her at the next meeting.” He stopped, suddenly unsure of himself, then he kissed me quickly on the lips.  “See you soon!” and he slipped out through the door.

There were three condom wrappers torn open on the bedroom floor.  Daaamn!  I checked the clock.  I had just enough time to take a really fast shower and get dressed.    I thought about whacking off really quick under the hot running water, but I decided to wait.  I wanted to take my time and make it a really good one.

The first thing I saw in the kitchen was the big oversized calendar I didn’t remember taping to the wall.  The days were crossed out in black magic marker.  According to the calendar, it was Wednesday October 13th.  How had it gotten to be Wednesday already?  How had it gotten to be October?

There was a yellow post-it note stuck to today’s date on the calendar: Doc Appt, 3:30.  I didn’t remember making a doctor appointment.

The fridge was covered in yellow post-its.  There was a big pink one front and center with large block lettering on it:


It sort of made sense, actually.  I couldn’t remember anything.  It was all kind of blurry.

I made coffee, savoring the lingering taste of his maleness in my mouth: salty, sweaty, tangy, musky, comey.

I got on my bike and started pedaling.  The early fall morning was bright and shiny and made my eyes squint.  I got to school just before the tardy bell.  My first class was pre-algebra: 30 fidgety 7th graders, and not one of them looked in the least bit familiar.  Fortunately I had left myself detailed notes, and an excellent lesson plan.  I could get through this day.

Apparently I had packed a brown bag lunch for myself the day before.  I’d have to make sure and do the same thing again tonight before bed.  I couldn’t wait for Ana to get home.  It seemed like forever since I’d seen her.  Did she even still have the same job?

The rest of my classes went by ok: Geometry, Algebra, another Pre-Algebra.  The kids were all strangers to me, but I knew the material and I had left myself excellent notes, so it wasn’t any problem to teach.  I was pretty sure they couldn’t even tell I was winging it.

One of the girls in my 9th grade Algebra II class kept looking at me funny.  It was a hungry, flirtatious, knowing kind of look.  She was kind of goth in a nerdy way (or nerdy in a goth sort of way), smart, and just painfully cute.  Had we done anything together?  That would be unethical and illegal and could get me fired if not actually jailed.  I could totally picture myself sitting on top of my desk while she ate me out, fondling her ripe young breasts while she licked my clit.  I hoped I’d had the good sense not to molest her, but I just didn’t know and she kept staring at me in a way that gave me butterflies in the worst kind of way, a sensation that was not entirely unpleasant.

After the last class let out, I sat down to write myself a detailed set of notes for tomorrows classes, and to let myself know how far we had gotten and what homework I had assigned.  I had some time to kill before my doctor appointment; maybe I had planned it that way.

I was sitting behind my desk, obliviously writing to myself, when I heard the classroom door open and close.  I looked up, and a beautiful raven-haired woman was looking intently at me with smoldering eyes.

Was that Ana?  All of a sudden, I realized that I had no visual memory of her.  I knew she was beautiful, I knew that I loved her, but I couldn’t remember, not even a little bit, what she looked like.  This might be her, coming to pick me up from work, but I really wasn’t sure.

“Ana?” I croaked.

“No, I’m Peggy, Milo’s mother” she said, “We talked for a long time yesterday, and you said you’d like to meet up after school today.  Well, here I am!  You warned me you might not remember…”

She was hot.  Older than me, by maybe ten years, with long dark hair that was almost certainly dyed, and a very tall slender figure that was accentuated by an almost-scandalously short skirt and a tight black sweater that showed off her smallish boobs to their very best advantage.  She wore a bright band of gold on the third finger of her left hand.  Oh Peggy, you are one hot mama!  Are you flirting with me?  Did we flirt yesterday?  Did we do more than just flirt?

“Apparently my memory isn’t functioning properly,” I said smiling politely, “Ever since the accident.”

“That’s what you told me yesterday,” Peggy said, biting her lower lip fetchingly, “Maybe we could continue this conversation in my car.  Can I offer you a ride somewhere?”

She was parked in a corner of the school parking lot, under a big gloriously golden-leafed oak tree.  Her car was an expensive-looking black muscle car, a Mustang or a Camaro or something like that.

We got in.  It seemed to me that sexual tension was absolutely crackling between us.  My pussy was moist and my clit felt swollen and tender.  I wondered if she felt the same way, or if she was really just offering me a friendly ride to the doctor’s office.

She closed the driver’s side door after herself, but didn’t buckle up or start the engine.  She placed her hand lightly on my thigh.  Underneath my grey slacks, inside my panties, my pussy drooled with horny anticipation.

“I haven’t been able to get you off my mind,” she said with a smile that was almost shy.  Her hand, maybe unconsciously, was softly stroking my thigh.  Every time it brushed up toward my crotch, I felt a wave of almost uncontrollably red-hot lust.  “I was thinking about you all day today.”   She smiled again.  Enchanting.  “I thought about you last night before I went to sleep.

“If my husband knew, he’d kill me.  Or else he’d want to watch.  Which might not be an all bad thing either…

The way her hand was petting my thigh was absolutely killing me.  My cunt was swollen and hot and hungry, and I was sure I was soaking all the way through my slacks.  I wanted my clothes to be off.

“Did Milo do ok in class today?” I wracked my mind… Milo: a youngish-looking thirteen year old with glasses and a worried look on his face.  Now that I remembered I could see his mom in him.  I recalled that he’d done well on his homework and had volunteered an answer in class.  I told Peggy and she seemed relieved.

“It’s so weird that you’re his teacher and I’m his mother.  God, if he had any idea…”

Her stroking hand had reached my crotch, softly petting me just above where my clit was screaming ‘TOUCH ME TOUCH ME!!’  I could help myself no more.  I reached over the stick shift and grabbed Peggy’s sweater, pulling her to me and kissing her hard on the lips.

She kissed me back ferociously, her hand finding my breast and squeezing hard.  She tumbled across the gear shift on top of me, her lips mashing into mine.  Fumbling, I found the lever that reclined the passenger seat.

When was the last time I’d fooled around in a car?  I can tell you exactly: it was my junior year of high school, with Mia, this girl on the volleyball team who I wasn’t exactly friends with, but with whom I had a torrid and steamy sex-ridden six-month affair.  We had lost our virginity to each other, late at night, parked at the end of a semi-abandoned dirt road, surrounded by trees and empty beer cans.  It was broad daylight here, and the school parking lot was far from abandoned.  Just that moment, I really didn’t give a shit.

Peggy had both her hands tangled in my hair and was kissing me hard and deep.  Her breasts were pressed up against my own.  Her skirt had fortuitously ridden up, and I let my hands explore her bare legs, feeling their way up her smooth firm thighs and stroking her through her silky panties.

It didn’t take me very long to push her panties aside and let my fingers slip inside.  She was very wet: furry, hot, and slippery.  Two of my fingers slid right up her hungry cunt; my thumb bumped against her hard little clit and she moaned into my mouth.

My fingers were knuckle-deep in her pussy, and she was humping back hard against my hand, but my wrist was in an awkward crampy position, so we rolled over.

I pulled her panties off and tossed them aside.  They were black, of course, lacy and frilly, cut into a high V shape.  She spread her legs wide, resting one high heel on the dashboard, the other flailing off into the steering column.  Peggy’s pussy was revealed to me in all its glory.  She had a mass of black pubic hair, thick and dark and slick with her juices.  She had big, meaty lips that folded open, and her clit stood boldy out, a fat little pea.

Kneeling in the cramped space in front of the passenger seat, I stuck my head between her thighs and started licking joyously.  Her taste was clean, tangy, hot, slippery, sexual.  I loved losing myself into her cunt.  I slurped up and down her pussy, dragging my tongue from her ass cheeks all the way up to her clit and back again.

What Peggy liked best, it turned out, was having her pussy fingered while just the tip of my tongue teased around her swollen clit.  I lost track of how many times she came like that.  More times than I would have thought physically possible, and very loud and violent at that.  Whenever she came, her stomach muscles heaved and flexed, her back arched, her thighs squeezed my head hard, and she let loose with a blood-curdling scream as if she were being murdered.  I just kept fingering and licking and trying to get enough air into my lungs to avoid passing out.

After, I don’t know, ten or twelve of these, three fingers up her pussy, another finger halfway up her butt, my aching tongue dancing around and just brushing against her clitoris, she finally pushed me away gasping “Enough… I can’t take any more!”

I came up, grinning.  My fingers were totally coated in her come, stuck together and dripping off me.  I half expected the car to be surrounded by a crowd of horny students and teachers, drawn from blocks around by Peggy’s screaming orgasms; but the lot was deserted.

“My God…” Peggy said, still out of breath, “You are just amazing!”

I was absolutely squirming for her to get into my pants.  But then I remembered my doctor appointment.  I was already ten minutes late.

“Shit,” Peggy cursed, maneuvering her skirt back down and her way back into the drivers’ seat.  It wasn’t very graceful, but it was cute.  “I’ve got to get back to the house in time to meet Milo when he gets home.  I can drop you off at your doc’s.  Come on!”

She drove me over to the doctor’s office.  It was a short drive, and she left her hand casually in my lap, stoking my leg through my pants.  By the time we got there I was ready to straddle the gear shift and shove it right up my cunt.  I was so wet and turned-on it was ridiculous.

“I’m all booked up the rest of the week,” Peggy told me as she dropped me off, “But we could get together next Monday after school if you like.  I’ll take good care of you next time, I promise.”

“I won’t remember” I said.

“I know.  Write yourself a note.  Thanks again Sexy!” She blew me a kiss and drove away.

I was fifteen minutes late when I checked in with the receptionist.  She told me to have a seat.  I waited there another ten or fifteen minutes.  I passed the time flipping through old news magazines, imagining the people in the pictures naked and squeezing my thighs together, semi-masturbating in the waiting room.

I liked my doctor immensely.  He was a dapper little man in a neat suit who spoke very precisely and came across as caring and intelligent.  He told me that all the tests so far had come back negative, and that he wanted to schedule another CAT scan.  He wrote me an appointment card, told me to post it in a place where I couldn’t miss it.  Then he put his hand on my shoulder.  “Don’t worry,” he said, sounding worried, “We’ll figure this out.  This kind of thing is rarely permanent.”

Outside, the bright October day was clouding over, turning dark and threatening.  There was a chill in the wind, and I wondered if it might not rain.  It was a fairly quick walk home from the doctor’s office.  It was only a mile or so, and the way home took me straight through the park.

The park was forlorn and empty.  In this light all the trees seemed muted and dead.  Dry leaves rustled in the wind.  I realized with a start that I’d left my bike at work, chained up in the rack in front of the school.  Crap, I could be home already!  I’d have to write myself a post-it tonight or tomorrow I’d have no idea where my bike was.

I made eye contact with a fairly cute-looking guy who was walking the other direction.  He smiled at me, a big friendly smile, and I smiled absently back.  He stopped and turned around, and then we were walking together.   He was tall and skinny, in his early twenties, with hair the color of straw.  His hand found mine and our fingers clasped.  I wondered where I knew him from.  There was a highly interesting looking bulge going on in the front of his tight black jeans.

I maneuvered us off the main path and we sat down on a park bench by a little bridge and made out for a while.  He was an aggressive kisser, and that was exactly how I liked it at that moment.  I liked him holding my wrists down and forcing his tongue down my throat and grabbing and squeezing my breasts like silly putty, tormenting my erect nipples through my bra.

I unzipped his pants and fished out his cock.  It was long and thin and uncircumcised.  I started jerking him off, right there in the open.  He leaned back unsnapping his fly, giving me full access.  I tugged his pants down a little bit so his zipper wouldn’t chafe on the goodies.

His cock pointed straight up in the air like an obelisk.  It was exceedingly veiny and seemingly hairless.  As I worked my hand up and down, the scarlet head kept flirtatiously peeking out and then disappearing underneath his foreskin, like a shy little elf.  I found that quite charming.

I lubricated the whole situation with my spit, and cupped his balls against the chilly autumn air with my free hand.  Giving a world-class handjob is like conducting a symphony orchestra.  Again and again I brought him right to the edge, squirming inches from his peak before backing off, only to slowly build up to another crescendo.  I varied my tempo subtly, until he was wordlessly begging for it.  His cock was hot and red and pulsating and his balls were swollen and tight.  I squeezed his dick hard in my hand and began pumping him deliberately faster and faster until there was no going back.  He wailed like a girl and raised his ass off the park bench, fucking toward the sky.  At the very last second I dropped my mouth onto his cock so as to not waste a drop of his come.  I felt his cock twitch violently as he came, squirting and squirting again, filling my mouth with his hot sticky precious juice.

It’s funny how no two people’s come tastes the same.  He was saltier than Ken had been that morning, stronger tasting, but by no means unpleasant.  I savored his flavor, the sensation of having a mouth full of semen before I finally came up for air.

“Wow.” he told me, “Just Wow.”

“I’m kind of embarrassed to say this,” I said, “But I don’t remember your name…”

“I’m Mike,” he said, grinning drunkenly.  “What’s yours?”

I don’t know you??

“No,” he said, still grinning, his soft cock lounging out on display for anyone who happened to be walking by, “But I’d love to.  Could I have your phone number?”

“I should really be going.” I said.

“Alright,” he said, “See you around then…”

The rain had started by the time I got home, a cold and soaking rain that glued my shirt to my skin and made my shoes squish on the sidewalk.  I wished I’d packed a rain jacket.  I wished I hadn’t forgotten my bike.

When I let myself into the apartment, there was a beautiful woman standing in the kitchen, trying more-or-less successfully to dig a broken-off cork out of a bottle of wine.  She was all curves and freckles and had red hair pulled back in a pony tail and a sexy butt and outrageously big boobs and an even bigger smile and I knew in a rush of emotion that it was Ana.

“Welcome home!” she said, “I was going to cook us dinner, but then I decided I’d rather order a pizza and fuck.  How was your day?”

I told her everything.  She alternately grinned and tut-tutted.

“Girl,” she said, “You need to be more careful with strange guys you don’t know.  We should get that tattooed on the back of your hand: Ask Him If He Knows Your Name FIRST.

“Was it too weird this morning?  Sorry I didn’t have time to leave a better note.”

“No, it was fine, it was fantastic,” I said, “How about last night?  Was it hot?”  I’d always wanted to have a threesome, but I’d never gotten the chance.

“Oh my god, it was so hot!  We both went down on him, then he fucked me while I ate you out, then he watched while we did a 69, then I got to watch him fuck you.  The guy could just keep going and going.  It was amazing!  I kept licking your clit and making you come on his cock.  I had my finger up your ass while he was fucking your pussy… I could totally feel his cock moving inside you.”

“I’d like to have more than just your finger up my ass… this has been the most sexually frustrating day ever!”

Ana grinned wickedly.  “I think that could be arranged.”  Just then the doorbell rang.  It was our pizza.

Over greasy slice of pepperoni pie, I told Ana about the girl in my algebra class who had been giving me the eye.  “Ana, have I been boinking any fifteen-year old students?”

“Not that you’ve told me,” Ana said, “and you tell me everything.”

After pizza and several glasses of wine, Ana dragged me kicking and screaming into the bedroom.  “I hope they fix your memory soon,” she smirked, “but I hope they don’t fix your sex drive!”

She looked gorgeous naked and I told her so.  Her boobs stood proudly out, huge pink aureole with little dimpled nipples in the center.  Her pussy was shaved bare, which was a new development for me: last I remembered she had a neat little red bush.  I liked the new look.

My panties were an absolute disgrace.  Ana sniffed the soaking wet-come-stained crotch and grinned wickedly as she fumbled with the straps of her harness.

Apparently we’d gotten a new dildo: this one was short and thick and looked more like a goose egg than a penis.  It was off-white and silicone and projected lewdly from her crotch, bobbing slightly as she moved.  “Bend over” she said, and I did.

The sexual tension that had been building in me all day boiled over when I felt her tongue on my ass.  Abandoning any restraint, I came hard and loud and wetly as she tongued my anus.  Her fingers found my pussy, my clit, my asshole, and she played me like an instrument.

When she mounted me, I was more than ready for her.  We didn’t even use any lube, it was all me and her.  With a series of cute little grunts, she worked that fat dildo up my hungry asshole until her crotch was pressed against my butt cheeks, her big breasts squished up against my shoulder blades.  I felt delightfully stretched to the absolute limit, riding a knife-edge of almost unbearable pleasure.  My pussy twitched and gushed, and I squirmed back against the thick dildo in my asshole, savoring the sensations.

She whispered in my ear that she loved me, and proceeded to fuck my ass hard, pulling on my hair and fingering my cunt, making me come over and over again until I was limp as an unstrung marionette.

We carefully disengaged and then I licked her pussy.  Ana has the most beautiful pussy: fat puffy outer lips that press together in a neat and tidy little crease to reveal petite inner labia that are so small they barely exist at all, and a clit that stands out like a miniature cock.  Right now her clit was swollen and livid with excitement and her cunt was beyond wet, oozing come all over her inner thighs, dribbling out in long sticky strands.  I dove in, losing myself in her familiar spice-tinged taste.

I licked all around her clit, the way she likes it, teasing her pussy and her asshole with my fingertips, tormenting her as long as we could stand it before giving over to lust and slurping and finger-fucking her to one violent orgasm after another.

It was great to be back home.

“I love you” I said later on as we snuggled together like a pair of nested spoons.

“I love you too” Ana told me sleepily.

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Mmm-hmm.” She was already asleep.


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