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be able to trust another woman as long as I live. If I could get along

without sex I’d never even look at another one. Now the only contact I have

with any of them is for sex, pure and simple. I’ve been doing the swinging

thing for a few months and I’ve learned I’m up for anything so long as it

makes me feel good and has no strings attached.

“You know the whole time we were married I never once cheated on that

bitch. Not that I didn’t have the chance either. I had lots of chances to

cop a little trim on the side and never once did. I even had a few guys

proposition me, like you did back when you were a kid. I can’t tell you how

many times I’ve looked back on that and other offers I had and have kicked

myself for not taking advantage of them.”

I’d been listening sympathetically as Eric unburdened himself, but that

last line nearly took my breath away. There was no doubt that I still found

him incredibly sexually attractive; I’d been jacking off for years

fantasizing about this hunky man. Now it seemed that he was making himself

available to me. Still we’d just become reacquainted and we had a lot

riding on our business relationship. I didn’t, couldn’t do anything that

would jeopardize that. I didn’t know what to do so I didn’t do much of

anything. I made some inane remarks about how hard it must be for him; how

I felt his pain; how he’d meet someone, some day who would make him change

his mind about romance; bullshit like that. We ate a great lunch and

talked business, but it was really hard to keep my mind off what was

between Eric’s muscular legs. We went back to the office with no further

reference to sex.

The remainder of the week was so busy for both of us that we barely had

time to do anything other than the routine. There was still much to discuss

and plan. For this reason on Friday afternoon I asked Eric if he’d be

willing to work on a long range plan with me on Saturday. He looked a

little disappointed, but said, “sure not a problem. What time do you want

to meet?”

“Are you sure it’s alright, you didn’t have other plans made, did you?”

“As a matter of fact I did, but it’s nothing I can’t put off. The meeting

is more important.”

“If you’re sure, I’ll meet you here say 10:00 tomorrow morning?”

“That’s fine. See you tomorrow.”

“Great.”

I couldn’t help but stare at his bubble butt as he left my office. That

night I spent a long, slow session stroking myself to an immense orgasm

just thinking of swallowing him whole. It was somehow very satisfying,

because now I felt that I had a chance to turn it into reality. I just

didn’t know how soon that would be.

The next morning I arrived at the office at 9:30. I was dressed casually

in a polo shirt and a pair of dockers. Eric arrived at just before 10:00,

carrying a couple of containers of Dunkin’ Doughnut coffee and wearing a

pair of baggy sweat pants and an old sweat shirt. The fabric of the sweat

pants was so soft and worn that you didn’t have to look hard or stare to

see that there was a fat cock swinging loose just behind the material. I

began to think that his purpose in life was to sexually torment me.

“So,” I asked, “were you able to rearrange your plans?”

“No. I was going to entertain a couple from Connecticut, and I was hoping

they’d come down later in the evening and spend the night so that we ccould

party after I finished here, but they have a wedding to attend back home

tomorrow afternoon, so we left it for some other time. I gave up at least a

couple of great blow jobs for this meeting. You owe me big time.”

I wasn’t sure how to answer that, though I thought of a couple of ways, but

I just kept my mouth shut and we got down to work. At about 2:00 it dawned

on us that we were hungry so we call out for pizza delivery. It was about

6:00 when we both decided we’d had enough and it was clear we’d made

significant progress. We worked well together.

Eric stood, giving a man sized stretch. When he did, his shirt rode up

exposing his hard, flat stomach and the flaxen down that surrounded his

navel and then trailed downward toward his prize. As my eyes gazed lower I

stared right at the head of his dick. When he stretched backward it had

pushed forward and was now right in front of my face clearly outlined

beneath the soft material of his sweats. The head alone was the size of a

hen’s egg. I guess my mouth dropped open and I was staring.

The next thing I heard was a chuckle followed by, “see something you like?”

“Yes,” I barely whispered, “and I see something I’ve wanted for almost 16

years. Can I have it?”

“Seems only right. I should have let you have it back 16 years ago, so I

guess I owe it to you. And for sure you owe me a fantastic blow job

because that’s what I missed out on this afternoon.”

“Then,” I said grinning, “I think we can work out a deal. Do you want to

do it here or would you like to come back to my place?”

“Tell you what. I’m super horny, it’s been awhile since I’ve been with

anyone. That’s why I was disappointed at missing out on the Connecticut

couple, they both have very talented mouths. I’m good to go for at least

two or three rounds. If you don’t mind I’d like it quick, down and dirty

here and now. Then once the edge is off we can go back to your place and

do it again slow and easy. You up for that?”

“I am if you are,” I said. Was I ever? Eric sat down in his chair again

and then swung it around toward where I was sitting at the end of the

table. He stretched out, spread his legs and then grabbed the top of his

sweats with his thumbs and pulled it down and hooked it under his large

ball sac. His cock was plumping out and rising right before my eyes. By

the time I got out of my chair, came around the side of the table and

kneeled between his legs it was standing steely hard, a full 6 1/2 inches

of the thickest manmeat I’d ever seen. I was easily as big around as it

was long. In the flesh it was even more beautiful than I’d ever imagined.

I’d waited so long for this. I felt as though I were dreaming. I took hold

of it in my hand feeling its velvety soft warmth. I gently pulled it

toward my face and flicked my tongue out to capture the small clear bead of

man honey that had just formed at the slit. I tasted him for the first time

and went wild. I dove down on that meaty hog and didn’t come up for air

until he was moaning like a bitch in heat. I was determined that he was

going to get the best blow job of his life; I was certain I was going to

give the best blow job of my life.

He couldn’t stand it. He was too hot to just kick back and enjoy it. He

grabbed the back of my head with his strong opened hands and pumping into

my mouth. He began slowly, but as we both became more comfortable and sure

of each other’s rhythms the speed pick up. It was as though he’d been

suddenly unchained. He stood up so that he could drive himself deeper,

never letting go of my head. We bonded, mouth to cock, a virtual fucking

machine. All I wanted was to drink from the essence of his being, to feel

him gushing his pent up juices into my mouth and down my throat. I felt

his balls tighten up, his breathing become more labored and his body

tense. Then it happened. His cock swelled and pulsed and he shot. There

was almost not enough room for both cock and cum, but I took gulp after

gulp. There was no way I was giving up a single drop.

When he’d regained his composure, breath and ability to speak he looked

down at me, my mouth still stuffed with his now softening piece. He was

grinning from ear to ear.

“Hot damn, bossman. That was the best head I’ve ever had, bar none. If

that’s what you can do on your knees with my britches still on I can’t wait

to be naked with you in a bed. I hope you liked it as much as I did, cause

if so it’s my guess neither one of us will ever bitch about working late

again.”

I slid his cock from my mouth, kissing the head as I did. I looked up at

him again and just smiled. But he was right. Naked and in bed made things

much more interesting…but that’s a whole other story.

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“Smell…you could smell me because I was in the room when

it was happening.”

“Bullshit! Bullshit!”

“I was there to make sure nothing went wrong; to make sure he

didn’t mess with you.”

“You were in the room all those times? Then if you’re not a

rapist you’re a goddam voyeuristic creep! But it was you; I know it

was you, and I’m calling the goddam cops on you, you fucking rapist

loser.”

She hung up the phone. I dug the bottle of bourbon out of my

closet, drank half a glass, then walked slowly to her dorm room. A

sheet of lined paper was tacked to her door with large, sloppy letters

commanding, “Go Away!”

I stared at the note for about half a minute, then walked

back to my room.

* * *

The next morning I found a note from her slipped under my

door:

“Dear Creep — I just wanted you to be fully aware of how

much you fucked up my life and ruined my sense of self-esteem.

You have made my sex life the subject of grotesque rumors all over

campus; you have made my vagina public intellectual property. Every

moment that I endure this hellish existence, the knowledge of

how you cheapened and hurt me grows stronger, more painful, like a

cancer devouring my conscience. You horrify me. Your former friend,

Jeanine. PS: Rotting in hell for eternity would be far, far too

gentle a fate for you. PPS: Don’t ever talk to me again.”

* * *

Peggy told me that Jeanine had initiated a series of telephone

sessions with a psychic in order to figure out who the guy was.

“Madame Horowitz is really a fantastic woman. Really empowered

by the purity of nature and the spirit earth. She lives in Los Angeles,

reads Tarot cards, tea leaves, astrology charts, palms, crystal balls.

Actually I think it’s all nonsense. Expensive nonsense. But Jeanine’s

pretty desperate.”

“She’s threatened to go to the cops,” I said.

“I know. But I think she’s afraid of her parents getting

involved. Her program of rigorous debauchery has given her a profound

sense of guilt.”

“She’s not so bad. Not nearly as bad as she wants to be.”

“She says the feeling of having fucked someone she can’t

identify by name or sight or anything else robs her of the feeling of

sexual accomplishment and makes her feel deeply violated.”

“She really enjoyed it for a while. She told me she was in

love with the guy.”

“Sounds like a normal relationship, the way her attitude

changed so drastically.”

“If she’d just screwed some guy at a bar she wouldn’t really

know much more about him than she knows about her Invisible Man. Not

really.”

“Yeah. Welcome to blind labyrinth of human sexuality. Here’s

a cast for your heart.”

Peggy stared at me, beaming with joyous sarcasm, her features

bearing a sinister slant. I wanted very much to kiss her.

* * *

Jeanine began wearing hats, sunglasses, and clothing made from

hemp. She changed her hair: once the color of maple syrup penetrated by

sunlight, she dyed it jet black. I sometimes saw her striding quickly

down corridors with a kleenex held over her mouth and nose. She stopped

painting her nails and wearing make-up. She stopped eating in the

cafeteria, preferring dried fruit and nuts she purchased from an

organic mail-order company. She stopped saying “Hi,” “How are you,”

or “What’s up,” but instead leapt instantly into the substance of the

few conversations she found necessary to have. She stopped inviting

people into her dorm room.

“She says she’s very chemically sensitive,” Peggy said while

we ate spaghetti with clam sauce at the cafeteria. “She threw away her

microwave, dumped her television, and now she’s trying to get rid of

everything made of plastic. She’s disciplining her environment.”

“What’s wrong with plastic?”

“She doesn’t ride in cars anymore.”

“What’s wrong with cars?”

“The fumes disrupt her bodily equilibrium. And plastics, she

thinks they emit toxic waves that distort her thoughts. She considers

it a form of chemical rape. She only listens to chants, and writes

everything in runes.”

“Does she ever talk about that guy anymore?”

“She doesn’t think that men are psychically evolved enough to

register in her world.”

“Does she still want to know who it was?”

“She claims she’s still a virgin, and plans to stay that

way.”

“Jesus Christ. She’s delusional.”

“She thinks people shape their own reality. What you decide,

what you focus on, that’s what’s real.”

* * *

About two weeks later Peggy discovered that Jeanine was

pregnant. Jeanine still denied having had intercourse, believing

instead that she had been procreatively enslaved by environmentally

reckless corporations.

“You’re not going to believe this,” Peggy said with an air

of investigative triumph, “But she thinks that toxic emissions from

the paint on her walls triggered spontaneous life-formation in her

uterus.”

“What’s hard to believe about that?”

“I’m serious. She said that.”

“Her walls are blue and green and red. Paisely slop she

threw up when she was going through her hippy thing. Does she think the

baby will be paisely-colored?”

“Christ, Bobby, I don’t know what she’s going to do. I asked

if I could take her in for an abortion, but she hasn’t gotten

permission from the foetus’ spirit yet.”

“If she doesn’t abort it, is she going to insist that the paint

company marry her?”

* * *

Shortly after Peggy persuaded her to get an abortion,

Jeanine escaped the narrow definition of “human being.” Humans were

creatures of wreckage, exploitation, environmental poisoning. She had

become part of the earth, a silent, passive, but resilient force

that adjusts to each new vile liberty people take with it. She had lain

on her bed blindfolded like a pristine grassy hill tunneled into by

callous metal miners, helplessly allowing, torn open, subjugated.

Ultimately, like the earth being stripped of its minerals, she lost her

child, but eventually endured the awful loss with an amnesiac

forgiveness. She seemed not to realize that any of it happened.

Events came to completion, but the play of natural forces went on.

In the months before I graduated I saw her regularly in the

agriculture department buildings, entering the greenhouses,

transporting tools and pushing wheelbarrows of soil and fertilizer.

She was learning the creativity of the earth.

One afternoon I saw her chatting with Paul outside a lecture

hall. She was gesturing excitedly as he smiled and nodded. I watched

from a cautious distance, half-shielded in a doorway, wondering if at

some level, perhaps unconsciously, she realized that he was the man who

had made love to her and impregnated her. After about three minutes

they walked to one of the campus coffee shops. I kept staring at the

shop they’d gone into, wondering about the quality of their interaction

with each other, the emotional atmosphere of their togetherness. And I

was consumed with sadness for her.

I walked to her dorm room. Standing in the corridor, I tore

a blank page from one of my binders, scribbled a brief note to her,

then slipped it under her door:

reaction to sex.”

“Fuck you, you bastard. I love the motherfucker and you

can’t say otherwise.”

“Jeanine, give me the joint. No, go, go ahead, finish it.

You can’t possibly love him ’cause you don’t know the first thing about

him.”

“Like hell I don’t. I know how he treats me. I can tell how

strongly he feels about me from the way he touches me. Do you realize

how he makes me feel?”

“That’s what good sex is like. Don’t confuse your physiology

with your emotions.”

“They’re inseparable, dummy. Our emotions are rooted in our

physiology.”

“Our emotions are rooted in our spirits, which have nothing

to do with our bodies.”

“If you don’t tell me who the fuck he is, I’m going to tell

the dean you had him rape me, and then you’ll be screwed. You think

you’re going to be able to withhold his name from the cops when they’re

interrogating you?”

* * *

“Look, why don’t you want me to tell her it was you? She

loves you, for chrissake.”

Paul Banks sighed, shaking his head, then jerked off the metal

crank that triggered the sprinkler system. We were the a gigantic

greenhouse the agriculture students grew experimental crops in during

the winter. Abruptly the slender jets of water arching over the

beds of loam were reduced to weak trickles.

“She can’t possibly love me; she doesn’t know the first

thing about me.”

“Well, I know, but she insists that she does. Who are we

to argue? It’s her feelings.”

He began walking to a wall where rakes and other tools were

hung. I followed him.

“Look, she says it’s the way you touch her, the way you make

her feel.”

“It’s called orgasm, not love.”

“Well, I know, but…I’m in a total mess here, Paul.”

“Yeah, well, it was a weird idea.”

He grabbed some sort of peculiar tool, a wooden bar ending

with forking plastic tubes.

“You had fun with it, didn’t you? Come on, fess up. You

took advantage of the situation for your own delight, now you have

to pay the price. It’s like everything in life, right?”

“Goddamit, Bobby, listen to me: I can’t have her find out,

all right?”

His tone was venomous, but his face seemed cramped, his eyes

narrow.

“Bob, I’m married. I have a two-year old daughter, okay?

If my wife and my family find out about this, my marriage will end.

You understand?”

I groaned. Paul watched another student at the other end

of the greenhouse dump a bag of white pellets into a bed of soil. I

struggled to think of something to say, some way to resolve the

situation. Paul turned back to me.

“And if you tell her it’s me, I’ll just deny it. It’s your

word against mine, Bobby.”

* * *

“You goddam coward. How could you do this to me? You…you

not only deceived me, you not only humiliated me, you goddam fucking

well raped me. That’s right, you fucking worthless scumbag: You

raped me. I consented to sex with some guy of your choice, but I did

not consent to sex with you. And I know goddam well it was really

you. That’s why you won’t tell me who it was, you fucking bastard.

I can’t believe that a friend would do this to me; it fucking shocks

me. You’re not a friend of mine, you have never been a friend of mine.

You’ve taken advantage of me, exploited my problems with men simply

to…to goddam rape me. Nine times! I can’t fucking believe it! You

raped me nine goddam times, you…you…”

“Jeanine, no. Hold on. You’re absolutely wrong.”

“I am not goddam wrong. I could fucking smell you, you goddam

…End of the part5. To be continued..

it successfully and see how she handled it. He ran a gloved hand over the

frosted intercom panel, stopping and pressing one labeled “9 – Sanders” and

cleared his throat.

“Yes?” It was the sound he’d fallen in love with – the voice of this woman he’d

never met, but knew as intimately as he knew himself.

He immediately assumed the lazy Southern drawl he’d been practicing, covering his

normally flat voice. “Phone company, miss. You a ‘Ms. Sanders’ who wants a

second line installed?” “Oh, yes; you’re early – the person at the office said

this afternoon-” the disembodied voice replied.

“Well, yer lucky; my first call was supposed to be a repair job that’d take all

morning, but they cancelled.” He was having trouble not adding small things like

“darling” or “my lovely lap-dancer”.

“Good; the sooner I get the line installed, the sooner I can log-on and-” The

rest of her plans were drowned out by a harsh metallic buzz. He grabbed his

toolbox and reached to open the door, unable to suppress a grin at the irony of

her statement. He breathed deeply as he mounted the half-flight of stairs,

shaking his head to rid himself of any stage fright. He’d always worried about

the wrong things before – surely this meant that all would go well? The hard

part was getting his body to believe it.

He concentrated on projecting the image of an American phone technician on his

first job of the day. A coil of cable was over his left shoulder, a large

tool-case in his right hand and blue, insulated coveralls obscuring his body from

neck to ankle. A hard hat covered his dark hair – ’she’d spot that right away

after what she said upon getting my picture’ he thought – and to complete the

facade a worn, weathered clipboard in his left hand.

He stepped to the correct door, stuck his gloves in a pocket, placed his toolbox

on the floor, and rapped on the door. To add to the illusion, he stood on his

toes – adding to his apparent height. He also grabbed a pen from his chest

pocket and started ‘writing’ on the clipboard held *just* in between the fish-eye

and his face – right-handed to further lull his prey from detecting her

“Grammar-Checker”.

He was rewarded with a series of clicks and the door opened. “I’d like the plug

near the table over there-” she said as she pointed back into the apartment, and

gasped as the ‘phone technician’ dropped his things and hugged her, surprising

her with a deep, passionate kiss. She felt the bristle of his moustache,

myopically saw the small scar on his cheek, and stopped resisting. When they ran

out of breath, they separated and she cried out his name with a child-like look

of delight on her face. “What ARE you doing here?”

“Gee, what do you THINK, lover? We’ve both been champing at the bit to meet

finally.”

“How’d you do all this?”

“Simple – you mentioned that you were finally getting an ISP and extra phone

line. I stayed at that motel just outside Geneva and waited to see a phone

company van to go by – handy thing, you living in a small town. I was lucky

enough for it to pull into a gas station on the way. When the driver went in to

pay, I slipped up and took a peek at the work orders.”

“But what if I’d have been the first client of the day, or if he hadn’t stopped?”

“Just lucky I guess – there’s only so much planning you can do. Anyway, happy

birthday.”

They kissed again. “Thank you; it’s not ’til Wednesday, but I think this is a

wonderful gift. One question remains – how could you even afford a plane ticket?

You never got that work term in Kansas City!”

“Well, there’s an interesting story that will explain my ability to be with the

one I love…but that will wait for lunch; right now we’ve got some things to

attend to.” His mouth curled into a salacious, wolf-like grin – showing her what

he’d meant every time he added “” to an email comment. He turned to grab his

things in the hall and was rewarded with a slap on the buttocks.

…End of the part1. To be continued..

simultaneously perform fellatio on the receiver (assuming the

receiver is male, of course). Depth of penetration is shallow to

medium, but the angle of insertion is “unnatural,” and this makes

for unusual sensations. The penis contacts the anal/vaginal wall

or prostate, as with the previous position.

There are at least two varieties of the sitting position. (1)

The inserter may sit in a chair or on a sofa, while the receiver

lowers him/herself down on the inserter’s lap, facing away. (2) The

inserter may lie down flat on his/her back and the receiver sits

down on him/her, again facing away. This is another good beginner

position, since the receiver controls depth of penetration.

The “T position” has the receiver lying flat on his/her back with

knees drawn up and perhaps a pillow or two under the lower back

for elevation. The inserter lies down underneath the the bent legs

of the receiver, but at a right angle. There may be a significant

difference in comfort for the receiver, depending on which side

insertion occurs. Depth of penetration is medium.

The face-to-face standing position requires practice and considerable

agility on the part of both partners. The receiver raises a leg to

waist level, which the inserter grasps and holds. This pulls forward

the buttocks and anus of the receiver, and makes insertion from

the front and underneath just barely possible. Shallow penetration

at a strange angle is probably the best that can be hoped for,

but that this is even possible is rather remarkable.

——————————————————————-

Val was pretty well soured on both sexes. Sure, you could have a good

time with playmates, but they seemed always to end up claiming property

rights. Wanting to own you. Enough of that shit! He decided that he’d

settle for his own company for the foreseeable future.

It helped that he had started a new and better job. A well-paying and

non-demanding job. A job that involved his ass, as it happened. He was

an underwear model.

Back in their happier days when they were (literally!) “into” each other,

Warren had put him in touch with a friend who ran a modeling agency. So

now Val was making a couple of thou a week just for parading his compact

underwear-clad butt in front of photographers and advertising execs. The

lights were hot, but the work was easy and the ambiance classy. And he

did have all the required talents: the ability to freeze a pose for an

extended period of time, and even more important, a tight, muscular set

of buns.

It was too good to last, of course. As his modeling career took off

(they raved about his butt), he got more bookings than he could handle.

The fame disease befell him. They began to call him the “Ass Man,” and

his face became as familiar to the public as his backside. He couldn’t

go out shopping without being surrounded by screaming fans holding out

copies of his notorious bare-ass “Slutboy” centerfold spread for him to

autograph. He couldn’t go for a walk in his own neighborhood without women

(and sometimes men) sneaking up behind him and pinching his butt. His mail

overflowed with offers of marriage and indecent proposals in exquisite

detail from all five sexes. He had no privacy. The whole world seemed

to want a piece of him . . . a piece of ass. His ass was under siege.

Soon enough, Val got tired of peddling ass. He retired. With what was left

of his earnings, he bought a remote mountain cabin far up in the Canadian

Rockies. With no phone or electricity, he isolated himself completely

from civilization. His only companions were a neurotic Persian cat and

a custom-made set of solar-powered dildoes.

——————————————————————-

THE BOOK OF ASSES

Part V

Preventive Maintenance

The care and feeding of one’s ass has a major effect on the health,

and consequently pleasure capacity of that wondrous organ.

A healthy and balanced diet promotes healthy bowel habits and

maintains the vigor of the large intestine and the muscle tone of

the sphincter. Avoid animal fats, which can lead to rectal cancer

and other debilitating ailments. Consume generous portions of

vegetables and foods containing fiber and “roughage” and you will

be amply rewarded by regular and satisfying bowel movements.

Regular exercise, especially walking, bicycling, and swimming,

contributes to a healthy state of the digestive system and helps

shape and tone the large muscles of the posterior. Kegel-type

exercises of the anal sphincter ring maintain the flexibility and

strength of that all-important gateway to ecstasy.

Cleanliness keeps the anus healthy. Clean thoroughly after each

bowel movement, and as necessary apply salve or ointment to treat

irritation and maintain the suppleness and pleasing appearance of

that entry to the chamber of delights.

Enemas can be a useful adjunct to anal pleasure. Those particularly

sensitive to fecal residue and odors may find it helpful to cleanse

the interior of the colon with a saline enema prior to anal play. Of

course, exercise due caution in administering enemas, both to one’s

self and to a partner.

——————————————————————-

As cut off from the world as Val was, a leading New York publishing house

had somehow gotten wind of his writings and tracked him down. Having

jeeped in over potholed dirt roads and iced-up mountain passes,

the publishing executive breathlessly explained that there was a

multi-million-dollar advance waiting if he would only sign a contract for

“The Book of Asses.” A vast audience was panting for alternate sexuality

and “orifice liberation” literature. Now if Val would just sign on the

dotted line . . .

He was mightily pissed at having his privacy invaded. “How the fuck did

you find me, and what makes you think I need your filthy luchre anyhow?”

The executive smiled . . . and dropped her pants. She had a perfect ass

. . . and wasn’t that a wicked-looking dildo harness girding her loins?

“After all, we *do* know your weaknesses, Val.”

Reputedly, anal orgasms are qualitatively different from the vaginal,

clitoral, or penile varieties. For some persons, they feel more

intense or even seem to occur on an entirely different plane of

experience. Others find a deep sense of relaxation and calmness,

a feeling of oneness with the cosmos, a transformative experience.

Some even claim the anal orgasm to be a powerful triggering element

for sex magick.

——————————————————————-

Her ass was big. Gargantuan. It drew his eyes like a magnet. She had the

perfect shape, bottom heavy with a huge, pear-shaped ass. It was, as an

astronomer acquaintance used to say, an luminescent globular cluster. When

she walked, her wide hips swayed enchantingly in a complex trigonometric

curve, and her ass must have made a blip on radar screens continents away.

Val was still coping with the effects of the breakup with Warren. He had

an empty feeling in his gut, the lower part of his gut to be exact. The

emptiness that Warren’s hard dick had so satisfyingly filled. But,

dammit, he craved a soft and warm and round womanly body to hold and

caress . . . and make love to, and be loved by.

Amaya had a mind to go with her perfect ass. She was funny and smart and

delightful to be with. She had an infectious smile. Her laughter could

dispell the gloom of an overcast day. She could talk intelligently about

about computers and science fiction and classic Russian literature. More

important, she seemed interested in *him*.

Val acted the perfect gentleman toward her the first few times they were

together. Lunch followed by dancing followed by pleasantly murmured

goodbyes. Dinner and a movie, then a kiss on the cheek. An early

morning ride in a horse-drawn carriage, breakfast in a sidewalk cafe,

conversation, and a light kiss on the lips.

She was the one who had to take the initiative. “Don’t you feel any

physical attraction *at all* toward me, Val?”

“Well, Maya, now that you mention it . . . ”

“Then show it, damn it! You act like a brother toward me. I’m well aware

you enjoy my company, but isn’t there anything else there? Maybe, just

maybe my body turns you off. I’m too damn fat, I know, and then there’s

this huge fat ass of mine. It’s part of me though, it’s me!”

“Woman, calm down. I appreciate all of you, and that big fat ass of yours

most of all. Believe me, I’m a connoisseur of asses, and yours takes the

grand prize. I worship that ass of yours. I tremble when I see it. I’ve

been a bit shy around you precisely because I’m so hot for your bod . . .

but I didn’t want to offend you.”

“Offend me because you find me physically attractive? Idiot! Come here.

Kiss me, you fool!”

He did, and it turned into a warm hug. His hands, seemingly of their own

volition, slid down and quickly found their way to that magnificent ass

of hers, and quite a double handful it was, too. One thing led to another,

as it so often does (in fiction at least), and they ended up in each

other’s arms that night.

“Val, my hot, hot lover!. Oh! You really do seem to like my ass. Come on

now, get behind me and come into my pussy once again so you can bump up

against my big ass. Deeper! I *like* that feeling. Mmmm. Maybe a bit later,

if I’m up to it (and *you’re* up to it) we can play other ass games. Hmm?”

He lovingly annointed her round, lush ass with scented massage oil.

Rubbing and caressing every square inch of that flowing, abundant flesh,

he memorized its contours and texture. He burnished and worked the surface

of that finely sculptured ass until it heated up under his fingers and

gleamed mirrorlike with a rich layer of oil. She reached behind to spread

her shiny cheeks.

It turned out that her ass was as magnificent inside as out. She enjoyed

…End of the part5. To be continued..

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that sounds odd, that a mother and her son would become more relaxed

with each other, but that’s exactly what happened. I think that there has

always been some male-female sexual tension in our culture, mostly buried

and not honored, but certainly operative. And as with many things, we

aren’t aware of them until they go away. It’s their absence that highlights

their former presence. In that fashion, I was very aware that many of our

defenses had been lowered.

——————————————————————–

Some months later when I’d been away at school for what seemed

like too long a time, I called my mother just to chat. We never said

anything blatant, but there always seemed to be a kidding undertone to our

conversations, subtly skirting around sexual things. One day she upped the

ante. “So, getting any?” she asked.

I was stunned. Was she reading my mind?

“No, dammit. You?” I was taking a chance here and I knew it. I’d

been distantly aware that in the last little while, even when my father was

home, that they were not connecting, my mom and dad. You can’t be that

close to someone and not be aware of those charged emotional states, even

when they’re never discussed. Mom, I knew, was frustrated, but we didn’t

talk about it. As I said, she never complained.

“No,” she answered, and then quickly added, “but we’re not talking

about me. What’s happening with *you* these days?”

I was used to her fending me off in this fashion and hardly paid it

any attention. The fact of my emotional state was that I was lonely. I

missed my mom. And oh, yes . . . I was horny. I decided to act out on a

new fantasy. I asked her for a date, a mother-son date.

“Mom, I miss you and knowing I won’t get back home for a couple

of months, it makes it worse. So I was wondering, would you come up

and visit me? We’re having a little dance here and I don’t know anyone.

You wouldn’t have to stay in a hotel or anything. I’ve got a pull-out

couch; I’ll use that and you could use my room. Will you let me take you

to dinner and then the dance?”

She made I’m-thinking-about-it noises and then said, “Well . . . I’m

not sure about the dancing part. I’ve danced with you – or tried to – before

and it’s something about two left feet . . .” and then she laughed.

“Mom! Come on, will you? I’m not that bad,” knowing that I

really was that bad.

“Alright, alright. I miss you too and I’m a little lonely myself. I

miss our talks. It’s be nice to have dinner and re-connect with you.

When’s the dance?”

“Two weeks . . . the weekend after next. Can make it?”

“Sure. Will you pick me up at the airport? I dread tying to get a

bus or a taxi.”

We made the arrangements and just before hanging up, I blurted

out, “Mom, I love you and I can’t wait to see you. Gosh, a real date!”

——————————————————————–

In retrospect, I can see that I’d been sexually attracted to my

mother for a long time, but initially too inhibited to admit it to myself.

With the pealing of that layer of my denial, I came to accept the intense

sexual feelings I had for her, but continued to deny that I expected or even

wanted to seduce her.

Another uncomfortable foray into self honesty brought me to that

point where I knew I *wanted* to be sexually intimate with her, but

realistically, didn’t imagine I ever could. After years of viewing her on

…End of the part6. To be continued..

anticipated that I would be a tall man, for my father, at 6′ 2″, was the runt

of his family. Couple that with my mom’s genes and it seemed reasonable

that I’d be tall. It was not to be. At eighteen, we were pretty much the

same height. I knew just where the tips of her breasts hit my chest.

I should mention that my mother had very attractive breasts, a C-

cup with prominent, up-tilted nipples that were often evident despite her

clothes. Sometime later I was to learn that she was one of those women

who were blessed with exceptionally firm, youthful breasts, that never lost

much of their firmness. She is one of those rare females that will have

youthful breasts into her later years. Like intelligence, beauty is given to us

as an accident of birth, no more than a fortuitous role of the genetic dice.

It’s comforting to be part of a line of good stock I was told, but I hadn’t

thought of it in this arena of sexual attractiveness.

While my mother’s figure was model-attractive, it was her facial

features that were eye catching. She had a straight, almost aristocratic

nose and a wide, full mouth. Her prominent cheek bones set off her

unusually attractive eyes. They were hard to describe, her eyes. She had

high, full, unaltered eye brows, that were dark in color in contrast to her

natural auburn hair. But it was the eyes themselves that caught your

attention, for they were a light green-blue with an exotic cast. At times I

thought she might have some Asian blood, but I never got a hint of it in the

rest of her family. In any case, they were striking, often dark and brooding

and at times almost electric. Without altering her facial expression, her

eyes could show humor or joy and, at times, anger. I often wondered what

she looked like when sexually aroused.

But I digress. Back to the awakening of my sexual awareness.

I didn’t set out to seduce my mother, despite the rich and lurid

fantasies I entertained. I held them as deeply secret and guarded as one

would any shameful, licentious desire. The thought was given no more

than masturbatory acknowledgment, as frequent as that was. Still, the gap

between our thoughts and our actions remains hidden from our conscious

awareness by the strength of our denial. So while I might have denied a

plan to seduce her, my actions would have argued differently. I set out to

be her friend and her confidant, to reduce if not break down the

conventional barriers between us. This was largely an unacknowledged

plan of mine. I don’t recall thinking anything more detailed than vague

objectives of getting closer to her.

Over time, I became more open with her about my self. I asked her

opinions of things, including girls and dating and later, sexual things. I

worked at being her emotional intimate. It wasn’t difficult, for she was at

heart an emotionally trusting and open women who, it turned out, was

largely unencumbered by repressive standards. To my surprise, we

gradually became good friends. That I would bond so closely with my

mother was not surprising, given my nature and that fact that my father

was largely an absent force in my life.

I slowly became less conventional in my own modesty. It was not

at all unusual for me to chat with my mother wearing no more than my

Calvin Kleins. I was aware that she studiously avoided looking at my body

when I was so briefly dressed, but she never reprimanded me for

inappropriate attire.

———————————————————————

I became aware that when my dad was away, she usually left her

bedroom door open. I took that as an invitation and often walked in on her

to “chat.” Not infrequently, I’d catch her in her bra and panties. She’d

say, “Whoops,” and slip on a robe, loosely tied. Once, as I walked into her

room, she was walking out of her large closet wearing only an unbelted

robe that swung open as she moved. From a moment only, I saw her nude

body. It was no more than a flash that left nothing more than an after-

image. It was that after-image that I examined so repeatedly. I saw firm,

upthrust breasts, and a flash of dense pubic hair at the base of a flat

abdomen . . . and then she pulled the robe closed without comment.

I’d gone in to ask her if she’d like to play some tennis and for a

moment was tongue tied, standing there, staring at her.

…End of the part4. To be continued..

“Changing your clothes . . . were you flashing me?”

“Of course. I wanted to give you a thrill. But what I found out

was that *I* was the one who was getting the thrill. It got me wet,

showing myself to you. Several times – you may remember this – when I

left you to go into my bathroom, I had to masturbate. And that gave me a

thrill. Sitting on the toilet, fingers on my sex, knowing you were right out

there. I wanted you to know and at the same time, I was terrified that you

would know. Funny, huh?”

Another glance over her shoulder. “A little harder, please?”

I increased the intensity of this erotic spanking. Her cheeks were

getting pink and she was getting wetter. I could see the sheen of her juices

on my cock as I pulled it from her tight, wet sheath.

“Did you ever think about “doing it” when you were playing with

yourself, Susan?”

“With you?”

A harder slap. “Yes, with me!”

“I was really embarrassed then, even with myself, but yes, of course

I thought about it. I tried to think of other things when I was

masturbating. I tried to hold off thoughts of you, but so often – sometimes

stuck and unable to get off – thoughts, visions of you would pop into my

head and whoosh! I’d get off. After a while, I gave up and just used you

all the time. I’d day dream about you and get wet when you’d see me

dressing.”

Nodding in recall, I said, “I’d get so hard, it’d hurt. I was always

afraid you’d see me and be insulted. But it was so thrilling, I couldn’t stop.

Did you know that?”

That it was thrilling or that you got hard? I certainly knew about

your stiffies. And I knew it had to be about me. One part of me was

shocked I guess, but the stronger, the sexual part I mean, was excited. I

tried not to look, but I did. I just couldn’t help myself.”

I was brought to a halt by the intensity of my emotions. “I

*thought* you knew and averted your eyes because you disapproved.”

Laughing, I added, “I’ll never hide it again.”

Wiggling her ass, she asked, “Why’d you quit spanking me, Billy.

It was just starting to feel good. And by the way, how’d you know I

*liked* to be spanked, anyway. You seem to know a lot for a young guy!”

“I read a book once,” I quipped, as if that explained everything. I

resumed the spanking, alternating one cheek and then the other.

Arching her back, she rested her head on her forearms again and

observed, “I’ve quit trying to figure it out. I mean, I’m a feminist and a

strong woman, but I *love* to be spanked. I think it’s a sexual thing, you

know, a pleasure thing and it has nothing to do with feminism. A little

harder, if you please?”

Turning up the intensity current a notch, I slowly moved to the

bottom of her buttocks, to the crease where the cheek meets the thigh.

With only the fingers, I slapped the tender area closer to her vulva.

“Oh, YES!”

Then I moved inward, right next to the fur-trimmed swollen lips of

her cunt and continued the erotic slapping, asking, “And here?”

“Yes . . . no. I mean, spank me right on my pussy, Billy. I’ll come

for you . . . it’s getting closer . . . yes, right there . . . oh, yes, yes, yes . . .

shit, shit . . .,” and her words again degenerated into a crescendo of

pleasure as she thrust her hips further back at me. I slipped my thumb into

her cunt, pressing the soft tissue right behind her pubic bone. Thrashing

her head and beating her small fists into the pillow, she shuddered, once,

and then again, then falling into a heap, sobbing.

I held her close in my arms, patting her head and murmuring soft

sounds of loving. “It’s OK, Mom, it’s really OK. I’m here. You’re all

right.”

She nodded her head, sobbed again and with her voice catching in

her throat, said something like, “I’m OK, Billy. There’s nothing wrong

except I can’t remember when I’ve felt like this. It’s never happened just

like this before. I’ve never felt so . . . so much. It’s almost scary. But I’m

certain about one thing,” and then she stopped.

“What’s that, Susan?

“That I love you, Billy. I don’t know if we’ve done the right thing

or not, but I know that I love you. And I know that there’s no going back.

I’m not sure what to do next, but I want you to know that this was one of

the more beautiful moments of my life. I want you to know that I have no

regrets about this, about us . . . that I love you very much.

That was the beginning of a new chapter in our lives, my mother

and me. She and my father never divorced and while they continued to

have differences, at times major differences, they both were willing to show

up for their marriage and work at maintaining the good parts.

We remained the very best of friends and very occasional lovers.

Oh, we always fooled around, teasing each other, but permitted ourselves

moments like this one only at rare moments. I suppose we were rationing

ourselves, or more correctly, she was rationing me.

This little story is not meant as a case for incest. While clearly it

might work from time to rare time, for the most part, it’s too dangerous

and too wrapped in dysfunction. It’s just that this time, it did work. For

us. My life was fuller and better for it. I look back only with fondness and

pleasure and at times, wonder.

get on your knees, facing away from me. I’m going to fuck you from the

back.”

She gasped, “My ass?”

“That’ll be later, little girl,” giving her my oil-can Harry voice,

“Right now, I want to sink into your woman place, that sweet, hot girl

pussy, but from the back. Doggie position.”

Would my dignified mother submit to kneeling in front of me, ass in

the air, that I might fuck her like an animal?

As she was scrambling around she said over her shoulder, “God,

Billy. I love it doggie style. How’d you know?”

Kneeling just behind her, I looked down at her very narrow waist

and her beautiful ass and replied, “Didn’t. But I do now. You’re pussy

looks so sweet, pooched out that way between your legs.”

“Jesus, you’ve got a wonderfully dirty mouth.” Then she chuckled,

adding, “And I love it.”

She lowered her head to her crossed forearms, accenting the sway

of her back. With her ass pointing up, the cheeks of her buttocks opened

and I could see for the first time her ass hole. It was tan, slightly darker

than the surrounding skin, puckered and tight looking. I wondered if she’d

ever had Dad’s cock in her butt.

“You’re looking at my ass, aren’t you?” As if reading my mind, she

added, “I love anal sex but your father thinks its somehow dirty.”

“Susan, I’ve dreamed of this. Months . . . couple of years even.

And now we’re here. It’s one of those rare times when the realization is

greater than the expectation.”

“Don’t tease me, Billy. Touch me. I’m hungry for you.”

With the fingers of my right hand pointing down, I hooked my

thumb in her pussy and cupped her mons. I’d read of the so-called G-spot

and searched for it with my thumb. Almost instantly I was rewarded.

“Umph . . . yes! Right there! God, what you’re doing to me. I

can’t believe this.”

I rolled the pulp of my thumb over that slightly raised tissue under

her pubic bone as I fingered her clit on the outside. With my left hand, I

traced feather-light touches around the rim of her anus. The sphincter

tightened and then relaxed. I pushed the tip of my left index finger against

her anal opening, applying constant but gentle pressure.

“Oh, God. What are you doing? I can feel so many feelings but I

can’t tell where they’re coming from. You’re driving me ca-RAY-zy.”

Her hips were rolling and I had only to hold my right hand still to

allow her to set the rhythm and intensity. I continued to gently apply

pressure to her anal sphincter, occasionally bending down to drop a dollop

of spittle on her softening ass hole.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she chanted. “Do that. Do *everything*!”

As she rolled her pelvis, pushing butt back against me, my left index

finger slowly slipped into her ass up to the first and then the second joint

and finally all the way. Curving my finger forward in her rectum, I could

feel my thumb in her pussy through the thin wall of tissue separating those

two cavities. God, I couldn’t believe what was happening!

Her orgasmic song started again, initially deep in her chest and

raising to her throat, ending in a wail. Vocal restraint was not her strong

suite. For one who was normally so properly restrained, it clearly did not

extend to sexual passions and orgasms. I idly wondered if my neighbors

could hear her, and then dismissed it, not caring a whit if they did.

We both slumped to a pile of entangled limbs, she exhausted from

another orgasm and me . . . well just emotionally wiped out.

…End of the part16. To be continued..

aware of her. Aware of the smell of her hair and the press of her breasts

and the hardness of her pubic bone against me. And, as instantly, I became

hard. I didn’t wonder if she could tell. It was blatant.

“Susan,” I asked – it sounded strange to my ear, “could I kiss you?”

“Of course, Bill. I’d like that.”

“I mean a real kiss. An adult kiss. Not some little-boy-peck-on-

the-cheek kiss.”

“Of course, a real kiss. I never expected less from you.”

She closed her eyes and offered her partially open mouth to me, her

lips wet and seemingly slightly swollen. I opened mine and kissed her lips,

initially very softly, and later with more feeling. She kissed back, making

no effort to end the kiss, seeming to melt into it all the more. We kissed

again, and we mouthed each other, breathing into each other. I gave her

my tongue again and she responded the same way, pushing the urgent,

hardened tip of her tongue deep into my mouth.

I found my self slowly rocking my pelvis into her, rubbing my erect

cock on her thigh. I felt her push back in a slow, grinding fashion, pushing

her pubic bone into me.

“Let’s sit, Bill. I want to be closer to you.” She slowly pushed me

backward toward the couch and as it hit me behind the calves and I was

falling into it, she added, “Can I sit on your lap?”

Without waiting for a reply, she half turned and lowered her bottom

into my lap, wrapping her arms about me in the same motion, her breast

under my chin, her cleavage right under my nose.

“There! That’s better,” she proclaimed, reaching for my right hand

and placing it on her hip while I placed my left hand around her bottom.

She was sitting right on top of my hard-on. She squirmed a few times as if

better defining what she was sitting on. “Isn’t that better?”

“Ummph,” I exaggerated and in a strained voice as if an elephant

were sitting on my chest, I replied, wheezing, “Yesss. So much better.”

“You turkey, you. I hardly weigh anything and besides, you

haven’t paid enough attention to me tonight. Well, at least not in the last

few seconds. I want another kiss.”

I looked up at her and mimicking her surrender, closed my eyes and

offered her my lips. She immediately ran her tongue deep into my mouth

and groaned, “God, you’re delicious,” again grinding her butt on my lap.

Without thinking or conscious decision, I ran the palm of my right

hand up from her hip, across her waist to the side of her thorax. I missed

and was palming the side of her breast. She kissed me harder in apparent

approval so I went for broke and cupped her full breast in my hand,

thumbing her erect nipple.

I don’t know when we broke that kiss. Actually, I suspect we

never did. It just slid into others. I made no pretense of touching her tit by

mistake. Rather, I palmed it and weighed it and rolled her nipple between

my fingers in as provocative a fashion as I could imagine. I wanted to feel

her breast and more, I wanted to be patently blatant about it, that both of

would know and acknowledge that I was caressing her breast and nipple.

We were both moaning and voicing largely incoherent sounds. She

was hugging my head and tussling with my hair in a passionate, almost

frenzied fashion. Our faces were wet from the open-mouth kissing and

licking. I had pulled down the bodice of her dress, exposing her demi bra.

Her dark areolae were plainly visible through the lacy half cup. Pulling the

bra cup down, her hard nipple popped out as I bent my head toward her tit.

“Yessss,” she hissed, “kiss me there. Suck me, Billy. Suck my

nipple. You’ve been wanting to do this for a long time, haven’t you?”

“You could tell?”

…End of the part12. To be continued..

“Suck it you little slut. I don’t want any more shit from you, just
suck me!”

I tightened my hold on her hair and pulled her head back a little
further so that her lips started to part, then shoved the head of my
cock into her mouth.

“Lick it! Use your tongue.”

Her tongue slid around the head as I penetrated deeper into her
mouth. I held it right at the entrance to her throat and let her
tongue explore the shaft. I eased up and let her sit up a little
higher. She put her arms up over my legs and took my cock from my hand
and started suck on it in earnest. I leaned back, put both of my hands
on the back of her head and started to enjoy the ride. At first I
would use my hands to pull her head downward while I shoved my dick
into her mouth. Soon however, she no longer needed any
“encouragement” from me. Her tongue was doing wonders as she slowly
slid my prick in and out of her mouth. I moaned for her to take it
deeper. She tried but was unable to get it down her throat with out
gagging. I gently pulled her head back and told her to relax. I pushed
the head of my cock on the entrance of her throat and felt it slide
in. She gagged a little but was able to take it all the way down. Once
she mastered this skill she fell into a rhythm where she would swallow
my cock all the way to the hilt, sloooowly withdraw it while running
her tongue up the underside until just the head was wrapped in her
lips. Then she would french kiss the head while she looked up at me
with her soft, brown eyes then start again.

Each of these loving strokes was bringing me closer and closer to
the edge. She was holding me in her mouth, her tongue sliding over my
cockhead and her hand stroking my shaft when she raised up her eyes
and stared deeply into mine. That did it. As she looked up at me I
felt myself reach the point of no-return and the cum started to boil
up out of my balls. She was right at the very tip of an upstroke and I
decided that now was the time to fulfill the final part of the fantasy
that I had always had about Kim. I pulled back on her hair so her face
was upturned and about a foot away from my dick. I grabbed my cock
with my other hand, aimed it at her face and gave it one hard stroke
as the cum erupted from the head. The first blast landed in her hair
near the top of her forehead and trailed down her face across the
bridge of her nose. I corrected my aim and gave another stroke and
this time I was dead on target, splashing cum across her half open
mouth and covering her pouty little lips. Her face was still
registering a look of both shock and lust as I pulled on my cock again
and sent another blast onto her mouth and cheek. By now I was pretty
much spent. I dropped my cock onto her lips and she began to lick off
the few remaining squirts that were still flowing out. Much to my
amazement I had to actually tell her to stop licking and sucking on my
dick once it became too sensitive to touch. She amazed me even more by
licking the cum off of her lips and from around her mouth. She had
come a long way in a few minutes from thinking that the whole idea was
“gross” to greedily licking up every drop of cum that she could reach.

I was spent for the moment but when I looked down and saw Kim’s
face smiling up at me with globs of cum decorating her face and hair I
could feel the familiar stirrings in my balls and knew that I wouldn’t
be that way for long. I motioned for her to get up and told her to lay
down on the couch. She lay down with her head on a pillow at one end
and her feet in my lap. I put one leg on the floor and the other up
over the back of the couch. Her legs now spread wide before me I began
to probe her pussy once again. I did it slowly and gently pulling my
fingers out to lightly rub her swollen lips, covering them with a
slick film of pussy juice. I purposely avoided her clit since my aim
was to tease, not satisfy.

“You’ve been a very good little slut so far Kim. But there are
still a few more things we are going to do tonight. Do you like being
my slut?”

“Yesss.”

“I’m going to treat you like the little whore that you have always
wanted to be. Do you want that? Do you want me to treat you like a
whore?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, treat me like a whore. Make me suck your cock. Put it in my
mouth again.”

“Does sucking my cock make you horny? Do you want me to make you
cum?”

“Yes. Yes. Play with my pussy some more. Please, put your fingers
in my cunt”

I withdrew my finger from her pussy and she let out a low moan of
frustration.

“Please don’t stop again. I’ll do what ever you say”

“I want you do play with yourself Kim. I want you to show me how you
rub your pussy while you think about sucking a cock. All sluts play
with themselves Kim. Rub it! Rub your pussy for me.”

She hesitated again but I grabbed her hand and pulled it down
between her legs. That was all the encouragement she needed now. She
spread her legs even wider as her hand slid up and down her pussy, her
fingers lingering at the top of every stroke to massage her clit. Her
head lay back against the arm of the couch her eyes closed as her
fingers brought her closer to orgasm. I was almost hard again and
still as horny as ever so I began to stroke myself while I watched Kim
do the same.

“Tell me how you want to suck my cock.”

“I want to suck it so bad Dave, please give it to me again.”

“Tell me more. Tell me everything”

“I want you to put it in my mouth. Shove it all the way down my
throat. I want to hold it in my had as I lick it all over. I want to
lick your head when you cum and have you shoot your load in my mouth.
Unggh. Eat your cum, I want to eat your cum.”

She was starting to become incoherent as she came closer to orgasm,
her sentences punctuated by gasps and moans. I was now rock hard again
and ready for the final event of the evening. I grabbed her hand and
pulled it away from her pussy which was now literally dripping. I was
wondering how she was going to explain the big spot on the sofa to her
roommate. I wasn’t sure if pussy stains were permanent but I was sure
that Kim was going to have to pull out the bucket and scrub brush
tomorrow morning. She wasn’t really keen on stopping yet again and
tried to resist. I grabbed both her hands and pinned them up next to
her head on the edge of the couch and laided on top of her. I brought
my face close to her’s, look deep into her eyes and said,

“I’m going to fuck you now Kim. I’m going to fuck you good and hard.
I’ve wanted to fuck you ever since I met you and you’ve needed a good
hard screw for a long time.”

This time there was no apprehension or fear in her face, just pure
animal lust. She was in heat and needed to be satisfied. She was still
a virgin, her “born-again” morals (now long gone) had kept her from
doing it with any of the other guys that she had dated. I had felt her
hymen while my fingers were in her pussy but she was now so wet and
turned on that it wasn’t going to be a problem. I let go of one of her
hands to reach down and position myself at the entrance to paradise. I
brought my face down to her’s, started a long hot kiss and drove it
home. I felt her body jerk as I broke through and my cock penetrated
about half way in to her virgin pussy. I thrust again and went deeper.
And again, still deeper. I broke the kiss and and Kim began to gasp. I
thrust again and penetrated almost to the hilt. Kim’s pussy was like a
vise. It’s walls grasped at my cock like it had a mind of it’s own. I
picked up the rhythm, pounding my cock deep inside her. I still had
her hands pinned above her head so she couldn’t move. She was moaning
loudly now and her body started to writhe beneath me. I could feel her
muscles tense up and her hips moved upward to meet my every thrust.
Her pussy clenched my cock as she began to cum. A loud scream erupted
from her lips and her back arched as I slammed my cock into her one
last time and held it there, deep inside. Again she screamed and
twisted as her orgasm raged through her body. She bucked her hips
again and again and at last began to relax, her body melting under
mine. I was glad that I had already cum once that night because under
normal circumstances I would have shot my wad a long time ago.

I was becoming increasingly uncomfortable on the couch so I
withdrew and ordered Kim onto the floor. She was still slightly dazed
from the force of her orgasm but looked like she was ready for some
more. She rolled off the couch and lay on the floor, her legs spread
and knees up in the air waiting for me to enter.

“No. on your knees!”

She looked puzzled but complied, standing on her knees in front of
me.

“Turn around and bend over. Get on all fours like a doggie”

She still seemed confused but she had always been rather naive
where sex was concerned and probably didn’t even realize there was a
doggie-style position. She figured it out fast enough as I knelt
behind her and slammed my cock into pussy. She gasped as I penetrated
all the way to the hilt. While I was on top of her I was never able to
get it quite all the way in but now, taking her from behind, I was
able to embed the whole length (which is seven inches in case you are
curious). I grabbed her hips and really started to go to town. When
my hips slapped against her ass it sounded like rifle shots. I could
feel myself building to another orgasm so I slowed down to make it
last a little longer. Grabbing her hair, I pulled her up to a kneeling
position. Her breath was again coming in gasps and low moans escaped
her throat. I slowed the tempo and grabbed roughly at her tits. My
hands pinched her nipples and kneeded those beautiful mounds of flesh
as my mouth nibbled on her earlobes and neck.

Despite slowing down, my orgasm was rapidly approaching. I pushed
her back on all fours and again began to pound my dick deep inside
her. Her moans became louder and suddenly she went rigid, threw her
head back and screamed as another orgasm took hold. Her knuckles went
white as she grabbed the throw rug and she thrust her ass back into my
hips. Feeling her pussy convulsivly clasp my cock finally sent me
over the precipice. I let loose a guttural moan and gave her two more
hard strokes when I felt the cum begin to rise up through my cock. I
pulled out and stroked my cock with my hand. It began to spurt and
several shots of cum landed on Kim’s back and ass. Spent, I dropped my
cock into her ass and let the final dribbles leak out into the crack.
My knees were now weak and I collapsed on top of her, pulling her to
the floor with me.

Her breathing slowed and she spoke to me,

“You’re not going to leave me now are you?”

This had probably been the single best sexual encounter I had ever
had and my mind was churning with the endless opportunities now
available to me. I pulled her closer and whispered,

“No. I’ll never leave you just as long as you are a good little girl
and do everything I say.”

She sighed and we both drifted off to sleep, entwined on the carpet.

–

Jenny and I discussed the day’s events over dinner. She
said she had been thinking about it a long time. Although she
couldn’t picture herself ever cheating on me with another man,
the thought of me watching her with another man grew and grew
until it became a full-fledged turn-on for her, too. She worked
the whole plan through her head for days, before she had the
nerve to actually call Danny and arrange for him to mow the lawn.
“So, how was he? His stamina depressed this 40-year old
man.”
Jenny giggled and said, “His stamina surprised this 35-year
old woman! I thought it would all be over and done in just a few
minutes.”
I toasted her with my wine, “You are the cause of that,
Dear. Your beauty, your amazing body, and your pure sexuality.”
Jenny blushed, “The whole time it was going on, I was
thinking about you watching me, knowing I was doing this for
you.”
I raised an eyebrow, “Oh, so then you didn’t enjoy it?”
She laughed, “Of course, I enjoyed it! If he ever learns
how to really use what he has, there will be a traffic problem in
the neighborhood from all the teenie-boppers lining up and
cruising by. He’s a real stud.”
A serious thought intruded, “You know he’ll want more, don’t
you?”
Jenny waved my concern away. “I’m sure he’ll ask or try,
but I’ll convince him it was a once in a lifetime thing that can
never be repeated.”
Jenny was right. She told me that a few days later, Danny
stopped by before I got home from work. Jenny said she sat him
down, held his hand and apologized for what happened. She said
she didn’t know what came over her, that she loved her husband
and could never risk her marriage like that, again. Apparently,
Danny took it all, with a pout, but finally left.
If anything, Jenny and I felt even closer than we did before
my birthday. Left with a quiet moment in work, or distracted
from a book, my mind would wander back to our porch, and I could
see another man’s hard, pink/purple cock spreading my wife’s pink
pussy lips, fucking her willing cunt.
……
On a Friday night in November I was home alone. A guy in
Jenny’s office was being transferred to Los Angles, and she was
at the going away party. A little after midnight, the phone woke
me.
It was Jenny, “If I were you, I’d take a chair into the
bedroom closet. I might be bringing home another birthday gift
for you. I love you.”
Surprised at the call, I hurried to make the bed and pry a
few louvers in the closet door apart. I was ready when I heard
the car pull into our driveway.
The front door opened, and I heard Jenny, “Thanks for the
ride home, Bill. I had too, too much to drink.”
Bill was the guy leaving for L.A. He was about my age and
very good-looking. “My pleasure, Jenny. The party was beginning
to drag, anyway. What do you say we wake Ron up and keep the
party going here?”
“No can do. Ron’s in Denver until tomorrow, and I’ve had
enough to drink for the night. I’m very tight! How about you?
Want a coffee or another drink?”
“Sure, coffee sounds great.”
“Good. I make a mean cup of coffee. But, first, let me get
these damn heels off.”
“I’ll keep you company.”
Jenny hit the light switch as she entered the bedroom and
Bill was one step behind her. I had the perfect view of him
reaching around my wife and cupping her breasts. Jenny leaned
her head back on his shoulder and said, “Ohhhh, Bill. You aren’t
trying to take advantage of my inebriated state, are you?”
His fingers had found Jenny’s nipples, and they were
obviously hardening to his touch. “Yeah, I want to take
advantage of you. I want to see how really tight you are, and I
don’t mean from the drinks.”
Jenny turned and pushed him back onto the bed. He was
sitting on the edge, looking up at her. Her back was to me and
I watched Bill’s face as my wife began to strip for him. Her
dress buttoned across the shoulders, and when open, fell to her
feet. Jenny slowly lifted the dark blue, full slip up over her
hips and head and stood still. She was still wearing her heels,
a dark lacy bra, tiny panties, garterbelt and stockings.
Bill licked his lips. “I want to see your tits.”
Jenny opened the front of her bra and dropped it to the
floor.
“Your pussy. I want to see your cunt.”
Jenny stepped out of her wispy panties and pushed Bill back
onto the bed. Then she knelt on the floor between his legs and
began to open his slacks. I heard the zipper and watched her
pull his pants down to the floor. His cock stood up pink and
rigid. Jenny shifted position to give me a perfect view as she
lowered her mouth over his cock.
She sucked him for a few minutes and then climbed up and
mounted him. Bill grabbed handfuls of her ass, “Oh, Jenny, you
ARE tight! All this time we worked together, we could’ve been
fucking like this. You walk around that office like the perfect
lady, but you are really one easy little slut, aren’t you?”
Jenny was responding to his cock and his talk, but before
she could get there, Bill tightened his hold on her ass and
…End of the part2. To be continued..

That evening, we set up our own private party. Just the three of
us in our little private apartment near campus. The light dimmed and
a slow rhythmic beat played in the background. The scent of heavy liquor
was in the air. We sat in the living room on the long leather sofa. All
three of us sat very close to each other. Jennifer sat in between me
and Joe. We laughed at the thought of us three sleeping together, it was
the topic of the night. There were no objections from anyone. Jennifer
was in her quiet little self making remarks here and there.
Somehow, in the midst of our conversation, there was suddenly nothing
else to say. We were quiet….
I saw Joe place his arm around her and started to passionately kiss
her lovely lips. I felt Jen’s hand crawl up my knee and started to carress
my thighs. Joe’s free hand crept up Jen’s mini skirt searching for her
soft wet cunt. I started to get hard seeing the action. I breathed heavily.
My right hand went down Jen’s blouse feeling her soft tan breasts
underneath my fingers. I felt her hand reach up my pants and squeeze and
carress my crotch. I moved closer to her neck and started to lick her sweet
skin. My lips were hot on her neck as my fingers worked to unbutton her
blouse. I felt her hand stroking my hardness through my denim jeans.
hhhhh..hhh….I muttered. I heard Joe’s breath and Jen’s mild moans of
ecstacy in between breaths of kisses. Jen’s blouse soon fell from her
lovely body and I anxiously threw it aside with my free hand. Jen did not
wear a bra, and all her beauty was exposed in front of my eyes. An animal
being took over me and I burried my face between her breasts painting
the beautiful mounds with hot saliva from my tongue. I heard her groan from
the expertise of the men surrounding her. Joe’s hand pulsated in and out
from under her skirt torturing her with wild sensations.
Somehow, Jen managed to unbutton my pants with her free hand and
release my hardened dick from its cage. She gripped it commandingly and
stroked it and squeezed it, my pre-cum instantly dripped from its
head. I played with her hard nipples teasingly with my probing tongue.
I sensed Joe trying his best to unbutton his pants. Jen took over and
finally was able to remove it completely revealing his prized possesion.
With Joe’s free hand, now wet and slippery with cunt juice, started to
stroke himself.
The action was too much for Jen to handle. She squirmed on the
leather sofa and eventually fell on her back with ME on one end and
Joe on the other. All three of us panted furiously as we try rearrange
ourselves to better positions. Jen reached for Joe’s cock and hungrily
inserted it into her mouth alternating the sucking from the head to
his balls and back. *FUCK* I thought. I was given the opportunity to
try out Jen’s wet pussy as her beautiful ass pointed my direction.
On all fours, Jen offered me her sweet cunt. I stood on my knees on the
other end of the sofa and gently entered the sweet offering with my
throbbing dick. It was tight, *Geesus*, it was tight and wet. Ohhhh…
Jen…*FUCK*…In and out I rode her savoring the sensations of every
nerve on my prick. Her muscles inside contracting at every push. I
was leaning on her back and I saw Joe on the other end receiving what
seemed to be a heavenly blow. His face contorted in pleasure, he looked my
way and grinned a devilish grin of sweet pain. He moaned and I moaned,
Jen screamed a little out of sweet pain while I penetrated her deeply.
We were like wolves howling in the night. Jen’s dripping saliva was too
much for my sight to bear. She swallowed Joe over and over and over again.
Our motions and the sight of each other FUCKING was too much for us
to bear. Faster I went, I could feel my prick tingle. Uugghh…unghhh…
Jen…I’m CUMMING…uhhh…*FUCK* “Don’t CUM in her pussy man!” Joe
managed to shout between grunts. “Wait for me to CUM man!…ungghhh..uhh”.
“Hurry Joe!…uhhhh…” I said.
In the back of my mind I knew what he wanted to happen. We always
talked about it when we watched porno movies that someday we’ll get to do it.
Jen stroked and sucked Joe faster that his dick was red and sore. It
was ready to burst. Jen reached her orgasm berfore anything happened. She
screamed a small little scream of pleasure as she continued to suck on
Joe’s prick. “Mmmmhhhm….mhhhhh” she muttered.
“I’m CUMMING man! uhhh…”
“Ohhh man! I’m CUMMING too!…ahhh..uhh” I replied.
Jen pulled away and placed herself between our pulsating pricks.
sucking both of alternately. I came first and spilled my white hot cum
on her face,”Geesus..uhhhh”, soon after, Joe shot his cum on her face
as well, “Ahhh..Jen!..”. Our shots were so strong and violent that Joe
splattered some of his CUM on my body, it was dripping hot, and
I splattered some of mine mine on his chest. Jen licked the CUM stained
flesh on both sides. She slurped every trickle of white sticky sperm on
my navel and on Joe’s prick.
All three of us breathed heavily. Spent, tired, and relieved, all three
of us collapsed on the slimy leather sofa. Our legs and arms entangled
together, with Jen between Joe and I.
Before I drifted into sleep, I remember thinking of what our future
would be…This FUCK is too much for me to take. I really enjoyed it.
I know I would want some more. How long will this relationship last?
Tomorrow is another day, we’ll see how it turns out…*FUCK*

The next few days was strenuous for me. Joe still treated
Jennifer like she was his girlfriend. He came in and out of our
appartment dragging her wherever he liked. It tortured me deep
inside to see Jennifer glance my way everytime she was with Joe.
I was extremely jealous. I became angry at how Joe was handling the
situation. He wasn’t treating me as a friend, he was treating me
like an outcast. He didn’t even consider my feelings towards Jen,
and he acted as if Jen exclusively belongs to him. After what happened
between the three of us, I expected that I would be a part of that
relationship. I was hurting inside. I reconsidered my feelings about
my friendship with Joe. I was flaming with hate. I wanted to punch
him and beat him with my fists. Images of blood dripping down his
forehead, and sore bruises all over his body. For a moment, I thought
of death. I wanted to hurt Joe badly, but I’m too smart for that.
Physical pain is so easy. No…I’m angry because he has what I want.
He should not have toyed with me and offered her body to me. What did
he think? After going for a three-way FUCK, he can parade Jen in front
of me? What the FUCK for? To brag to me that the best FUCKING BITCH
still belongs to him? He can swallow my CUM and eat my SHIT!
If he knew me well as a friend, then he would have considered
my feelings. I always considered his feelings, and that’s the reason
I held back from FUCKING Jennifer and back-stabbing him. I guess
I’m only one of those FUCK ‘friends’ who means nothing to him…I had
to hurt him, I had to teach him a lesson…I’ll FUCK him up really
bad, and he’ll regret he ever FUCKED up with me…
One wednesday afternoon, I came home early from school. I
…End of the part2. To be continued..

After I gathered myself together, I looked at Jennifer straight
in the eyes. Not knowing what to say or how to start, I sat up towards
her, and faced her CUM dripping face. I could feel her warm breath upon
my lips, and I could smell the stale CUM. I reached up my right hand
gently pushing her black-reddish messy hair back away from her face.
Jennifer is a beautiful girl. At 19, she has a body that any man
would kill for. She had a smile that would melt your heart and remind
you of an innocent tropical girl. Her tropical tan and smoldering exotic
eyes hints a beauty worth the sacrifice to the gods of the natives.
She had a mysterious way about her. The innocent image she posessed
hides another woman. Behind the innocent fascade is a hungry passion of
lust. She is a girl of few words, and rarely did she spoke to me. She
is friendly, yet aloof. When I do get the chance to talk to her, she
always ends our conversation quickly, yet sweetly. She was never rude
to me, and on occasion caught her glaring at me sweetly. I ruled out
the possibility that there would be something between us. She was my
best friend’s girl…I wanted her. I really did.
“Jennifer…why?” I whispered to her, my throught harsh and dry
from our night of ecstacy. “Shhhh…” she whispered, placing her finger
on my lips. “I…did it for you…”. She looked at me in the eyes, she
had that look of hidden pain covere by a faint smile. I went closer
and partly opened my mouth and kissed her on the lips. Her tongue
probed in my mouth and mine into hers. I could still taste my fresh CUM
in her mouth. I did not care. It was our wine of love. We kissed passionately and
finally she pushed me back and slowly stood up from my bed. I sat there
and watched her leave. She looked back a last time before exiting my
room. From the faint light I could admire her shapely body. Her buttocks
firm, her breasts rounded and tender.
I laid on my bed and stared at the ceiling. I wasn’t able to go
back to sleep. I pondered the thought of her with me. I wanted her back
in my room. The desire was so strong that I was angry. I was screaming
inside figuring out what to do. Why have I done this to my best friend?
Should I tell him? I would loose her. I would loose my friend. *FUCK*
*I need her*
The following days tortured me. I was moody and snapped at almost
everyone. I was irritable. I couldn’t concentrate in class. I was supposed
to study for a midterm, but my mind kept creeping back to that night
with Jennifer. I see her with my buddy almost everytime, but I try not
to act obvious. But I guess, I had a tougher time when she is around with
my best friend. I know my friend well, and he knows me well, I had a
feeling he knows what’s up with me.
Joe is a cool guy. He’s about a year older than me. We’ve been friends
for about 3 years now since I met him freshman year. He’s a good looking
Chinese-American in a rough sort of way, and women usually like
him for his body. As for myself, for a Filipino I was lucky for an
athletic physique mixed with a boyish look of innocence which my Chinese
heritage offered. My witty remarks and quick reactions, combined with
Joe’s qualities make our team a trap for worthy women. We like each
other’s company and somehow our relationship evolved into an open,
trusting, and loyal friendship. I put great importance in our
…End of the part1. To be continued..