Victoria Manley

Her Next Victim and Other Stories

HER NEXT VICTIM

I knew it the moment I looked at her. Her long, lean body … the pout of her full lips … the curve of her ass as she smoothed her skirt to sit in the chair at the small cafe table. I approached her, pad and pen in hand to take her drink order, and when she looked up at me through those smoky eyes and dark lashes, I knew what was coming. It was imminent. There was no way around it. There was no avoiding it. I was about to become her next victim.

"May I take your drink order, ma'am?” I asked politely as I tried to keep my hands from shaking.

"White wine, please."

I could see her nipples pointing delicately through her silk blouse as if she was excited to be here.

"Will you be dining alone or is someone joining you?” I questioned, trying not to sound too personal.

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat and lowered her voice.

"Someone is joining me. He should be here at any time. I'll wait to order the meal when he gets here."

"Very well, I'll get your wine."

I turned to go and I swore that I could feel her watching me walk away. I glanced over my shoulder and saw her looking out the window. Oh well, so much for my waiter's intuition.

I set the glass in front of her and she thanked me.

"Have you heard from your gentleman friend?” I asked and hoping with all my might that it wasn't a husband or boyfriend, “Will he be much longer?"

"No,” she replied, “should be any time now."

I glanced at her left hand. There was no wedding or engagement ring.

"Very well. I'll check back with you in a bit."

She nodded and I went about busing the table next to her. Anything to stay close. I could smell her perfume as I moved passed her and her scent was intoxicating.

A ringing came from her purse and she reached into it to retrieve her cell phone.

"Hello?"

There was a pause.

"Yes, I'm at the cafe."

Pause.

"But Robert…"

Her voice trailed and she listened for a moment.

"But Robert, we were supposed to get away this weekend, just the two of us. You promised."

Pause. She put her hand over her eyes as if she was getting some bad news.

"How could you do this to me?” she whispered, “You said you loved me. You said you didn't love your wife anymore. How could you go back to her after all the things we meant to one another?"

Pause. She wiped a tear from her eye.

"You're a selfish bastard,” she snarled, “I gave up my job and came here to be with you because you said you were leaving her. Now you tell me that you're going to try to make it work out? What am I supposed to do now?"

There was a long pause and she began to cry. I wanted to comfort her, but dared not look as if I had been listening.

"You son of a bitch,” she continued, “don't you ever call me again."

And with that, she hung up the phone and laid it on the table, then put her face in her hands and sobbed quietly.

I couldn't help myself. I felt like the knight on the white stead coming to save the poor, defenseless damsel in distress. I rushed to her side, knelt beside the chair, and took her hand in mine.

"Please don't cry,” I whispered, doing my best to soothe her, “he's not worth crying over."

She moved her hand from her face and looked down at me.

"W … what?” she asked.

"The guy on the phone,” I said, “he's not worth crying over. He's stupid to let you go. You're better off without him."

She wiped a tear with the back of her left hand, leaving her right hand still clenched in mine.

"But I came here to be with him,” she countered, “he's married, but he and his wife were separated. He was going to get a divorce and marry me. Now he … he…” Her voice trailed.

"I know,” I told her, “I couldn't help but overhear. And I think you are better off without him."

She didn't seem offended by the fact that I had listened to her private conversation. As a matter of fact, she suddenly sat up straighter and took a deep breath.

"You're right,” she said gallantly, “I am better off without him."

She looked down at me as if she was seeing me for the first time.

"What's your name?” she asked.

"Steven."

"My name is Claudia. When do you get off?"

"Eight o'clock."

She shook her head.

"That's too long. Go tell them that something came up and you have to leave right now and then meet me at the front door."

With that, she stood up and walked away.

I could hear an urgency in her voice and I knew that I needed to do what she said. I took off my apron, walked into the kitchen, and told the boss that I had to leave. He didn't like it, but the restaurant was quiet that night and being minus one waiter wasn't going to hurt them that bad. I joined her at the door and she grabbed me by the front of my shirt, holding my face very close to hers.

"You're coming home with me,” she hissed, “and I won't take no for an answer."

I wasn't about to say no. Not with the look she had in her eye.

She began to walk, so I began to follow. I didn't know where we were going, but I felt like a dog being led by his leash. I just followed. With her hand grasping my wrist, she was half leading, half dragging me down the sidewalk, and as we came to her apartment building, she took the corner like Richard Petty speeding down the Daytona 500 Speedway.

Although being with her was exciting, the fear of the unknown was a bit unsettling. Here she was, beautiful and beguiling, but also angry with men as a species. My fate lay in the hands of her common sense kicking in. If not, you would hear about me on the 6:00 news.

She let go of my wrist long enough to fish her keys out of her handbag, and as soon as the door was open, she pulled me inside. An orange colored Tabby came out from behind the sofa to greet his mistress, but when it saw me, it hissed and ran the other direction.

"Don't mind Clarence,” she told me, “he's a bit of a ‘fraidy cat around strangers."

I was beginning to think that Clarence was the smartest one here. Claudia turned to me and looked me dead in the eye.

"I'm tired of being treated like a door mat by men,” she declared. “From now on, I'm going to be the one in charge."

I swallowed a lump the size of Utah and gave her my undivided attention. I suddenly felt like a deer in the headlights; caught with nowhere to run.

"Do you know what you're going to do for me?” she asked.

It was more a statement than a question, so I shook my head, waiting for the answer.

"You're going to be my boy slave tonight,” she stated. “You're going to draw me a bubble bath, and gave me a massage, and paint my nails, and whatever else I want you to do. You're going to pamper me."

I smiled. That sounded like Heaven to me.

"And,” she continued, “I'm going to do whatever I feel like to you."

My smile disappeared and I tried not to appear nervous.

"Go start my bath,” she ordered. “Second door down the hall on the left, the bubble bath powder is in the cabinet under the sink."

"Yes ma'am,” I responded quickly and then made my exit from the room.

As the tub began filling up with lilac scented lather, she came in with a bottle of wine and two glasses, then handed the bottle to me to open.

"It's going to be a long night,” she told me, “and I thought you might like a drink."

I opened the bubbly and poured us each a glass, thankful to finally have something to coat my dry throat.

She began to undress for her bath, right before my eyes, and I felt my heart leaping in my chest. She was beautiful, proportioned like a model, with long, firm legs and high, perky breasts. As she lowered herself into the water, she looked over at the vanity.

"Go get that hairbrush and clip and put my hair up so that it doesn't get wet,” she said.

"Yes ma'am."

As I picked up the brush, she held up her hand.

"Stop."

I stopped.

"Now put the hairbrush in your mouth like you are a dog carrying a bone, and get on your hands and knees and crawl to me."

"Yes ma'am."

I put the hairbrush handle in my mouth, got down on the hands and knees, and crawled over the tile floor to her. She smiled.

"Good boy. Now, put my hair up in the clip so it doesn't get wet."

"Yes ma'am."

I had never brushed a woman's hair before, but I quickly found out what I had been missing. The texture of her locks was almost as pure as silk, and it slipped through my fingers as easily as the wine slid down my throat. She purred as I stroked the brush through her hair, and then I put the clip in it to hold it up and in place.

"May I bathe you, ma'am?"

She looked up and smiled.

"Yes, you may."

Taking the loofa from the corner of the tub, I dipped it in the soapy water and began washing her back. She had an exquisite neckline, with a long lean torso and delicate muscles holding her frame. She hugged her knees to her chest and bent her head down so that I could move the sponge all the way from the back of her neck down and then into the water to the bottom of her spine.

Uncoiling, she sat up straight and faced me.

"Now my breasts,” she told me.

Once again, I put the loofa in the water, but she stopped me before I could put it to her chest.

"Clean them with your mouth,” she ordered.

"Ex … excuse me?” I stammered.

"You heard me. Use your mouth."

I raised up my knees to get closer to her.

"Yes ma'am."

With that, I began licking and sucking her magnificent breasts clean, although they weren't, by any means, dirty. The lilac perfume from the bubble bath lather plus the womanly scent of her body reached my nostrils, and it made me almost lightheaded. Her rose colored nipples hardened as my tongue bathed over them, but she made no sound as to how it felt. I wanted to use my hands … to caress her lovely mounds … but I did exactly what she told me and just used my mouth. I hoped that she would be pleased with her boy slave.

She pulled away from me and finished washing the rest of her body, then stood up in the tub, waiting to be dried off. I quickly grabbed the towel and wrapped her in it so that she didn't get cold.

"Thank you, Steven,” she said softly, “now I'll wait on the bed for my massage. There is some lotion in the cabinet under the sink."

"Yes ma'am."

I sighed, happy that she appeared to be satisfied with what I had done so far, and retrieved the lotion.

She was, as she had said she would be, lying on the bed on her tummy and waiting for me. The towel was on the floor.

The picture-perfect view in front of me almost took my breath away. My eyes devoured the slight dip of her lower back to the roundness of her flawless bottom, and suddenly I was almost too afraid to put my hands on her. She looked back at me.

"Claudia,” my voice quivered.

"I need a massage, Steven,” she ordered, her voice quite stern, “get busy."

I swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and put some lotion in my hands to warm it.

"Yes ma'am."

I tried to keep it professional, as if I was a physical therapist, but the more I massaged her skin, the warmer I got. Pretty soon, I was sweating. Her delicate skin felt like silk under my hands and I couldn't keep my cock from getting hard. My voice began to quiver.

"Claudia, this is killing me."

She turned her head to the side.

"Good. Your gender needs to suffer a bit."

I swallowed a lump and kept massaging.

"Yes ma'am."

After fifteen minutes or so, she began to shift.

"Now the front,” she told me as she turned over on her back.

I waited a moment for her to get in a comfortable position, then rubbed some lotion in my hands and started at her ankles. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, purring slightly as my touch would bring just the right pleasure.

I tried not to look at her pussy as I caressed the top of her legs, but it wasn't possible for me to take my eyes away. I could see that the lips were shaved smooth, and the little bit of hair that was on her mound was neatly trimmed in a “V". I could feel a bit of drool on my chin as I tried to keep from leaning down and licking it.

As I knelt between her legs to bend over her to massage her breasts, the front of my pants touched the inside of her thighs. No, correction, my pants-covered cock touched the inside of her thighs. It felt like the whole front of my trousers was one huge dick. She opened her eyes.

"Why are you hard?” she asked softly.

"Because I want you so bad,” I answered, trying to stay calm.

She reached down and unzipped my pants. My cock sprang out into her hand.

"Do you think just because you tell me that you want me that I am supposed to fall lovingly into your arms?” she questioned.

"No ma'am, I just know that's why I'm hard."

She smiled.

"An honest man for once."

She put her hands in the waistband of my pants and pushed them down over my hips, dragging my boxers with it, and continued to caress my cock. I was beginning to tremble in my attempt not to come.

"Claudia, please,” I quivered.

"Please what?” she asked with a cat-like grin.

"Please let me make love to you."

The cat-like grin suddenly turned almost sinister.

"Or maybe I'll just fuck you,” she told me.

She quickly raised up, pushed me over on my back, and straddled my legs. With my pants and underwear around my knees and her legs on each side of mine, I couldn't get up.

She was beautiful; sitting above me, majestic and royal as if she owned me, and I was delighted to be her property. She thumped at my cock with her fingers, as if thumping it would make it go down.

"These things are nothing but trouble,” she said as she gave the head of it a little pinch.

I flinched in a moment of pleasure and pain, but didn't move or try to push her hand away.

"I can make you feel good with it,” I told her.

She glared at me and then slapped my cock with her open hand. I winced, the look on my face surely giving me away that the swat had been painful, but said nothing.

"That's what you men all think we're good for,” she said. “Just a roll in the hay and you'll keep us happy. Well, think again! Most of you couldn't make us have an orgasm if your life depended on it."

As I looked at the expression on her face, I was beginning to think that my life did depend on it.

"Would you let me try?” I asked quietly, “I won't ask for anything for myself."

Her expression softened.

"Why would you want to do that?"

I brought my hands up and rested them on her bare thighs.

"Because I don't want you to think that all men are like that guy you were going to meet in the restaurant,” I replied, “there are some nice guys out there who really want to please their lady."

"And I suppose you are one of them?"

"Yes ma'am."

The look on her face gave her away. The anger was leaving.

"What are you going to do?"

I smiled.

"Finish the massage."

She got off of me and returned to her position on her back, and I continued my delightful task of pleasuring her, but this time with my pants and underwear on the floor. She reached down and pulled my shirt over my head, then tweaked my nipples in her fingers.

"May I taste?” I asked as my fingers massaged her delicate mound.

"Yes, you may."

As I lowered my head and touched her clitoris with the tip of my tongue, a shudder went through her body. Before long, she put her hands on the back of my head and into my hair.

"Don't stop,” she whimpered.

I lapped her taste into my throat. I had never tasted anything as sweet or as warm. The pink folds inside her cunt lips were soft, and I sucked and nibbled gently. I began to feel her body responding, bidding me to search for more places of desire. I pulled her tighter to my face, and her legs moved over my shoulders, giving me complete access. I eased a finger into her cunt, and she gasped and pushed towards my hand for more. Her juices began to coat my nose, chin and mouth as I continued to probe.

I inserted a second finger, and then arched them up, their tips gently massaging her g-spot. It was swollen, needing release, and I was happy to give it what it needed.

I quickly found another sensitive spot, just beneath her engorged clit, and her body writhed in pleasure as I nibbled, sucked and licked. When I eased the fleshy hood back with my fingertip and sucked the swollen nub between my lips, she moaned and pressed me harder, matching her hips with the thrusts of my tongue and fingers.

The waves of pleasure began to wash over her and she cried out as the spasms of her orgasm enveloped her. Surge after surge pulsed through her body until finally she couldn't take anymore and she reached for me to make me stop. I released her and leaned over her to kiss her breasts, feeling the pounding of her heart and the rasps of her breath against my lips as the aftershocks slowly began to subside.

Without a word, she put her hands on my chest and pushed me over on my back. I happily sighed and willingly laid back. She raised her body up and straddled me, gasping as she slid down on my stiff rod. Her pussy was saturated with her juices and I entered her easily. She moaned at the feel of it, and then began to move on me, slowly at first, so she could just enjoy the feel of my cock inside her. As her movements began to increase, her hands clutched my chest, and my hips rose to meet her thrusts. She arched her back as she felt the fervor climbing into the pit of her stomach again. I looked up into her eyes and saw a fire behind them. The lady wanted to come again.

Our breathing quickened, as did our pace, and holding onto her waist, I began thrusting my cock up hard into her pussy. She moved her hips to match mine, each plunge fiercer than the one before, and as her climax enveloped her, she cried out again, her screams of pleasure lost within the four walls. She collapsed on me, her breasts against my chest, her face against my shoulder in an attempt to gain control of her breathing. I rested my arms on the backs of her thighs and soon we were quiet as my cock began to soften inside of her. I kissed her forehead tenderly.

"See?” I said quietly, “All men aren't assholes."

She lifted her face and grinned.

"No, I suppose they aren't.” She paused and looked at me. “Now, would you like to come?"

I shook my head.

"Perhaps later,” I grinned as I picked up a bottle of red nail polish from the nightstand, “I have toenails to paint and a lady to pamper."

[Back to Table of Contents]

CAMPING

"Ahh … the great outdoors. Wasn't this a great idea to go camping, Lorraine? Just the two of us, a tent, a cooler of beer, and a lantern."

"Sam, is this what you had in mind? We're in the middle of the woods in the middle of nowhere. What do we do for food?"

"We catch our own food and roast it over the campfire."

"You've got to be kidding? Who do you think you are, Daniel Boone?"

"It'll be fun, Lorraine. Trust me."

"Where's the electricity?"

"There's no electricity, honey. It's just you and me and nature the way it was intended to be. I think we'll pitch the tent right here."

"But Sam, I'll miss Oprah and Dr. Phil!"

"It won't hurt you to miss the show for one day."

"Where's the bathroom?"

"Oh, just go behind any of those shrubs or trees over there."

"And put my…? Uh … that's ok. I'll just hold it ’til we get home."

"We can sleep under the stars and bathe in the creek!"

"Bathe in the creek? Oh geez! This water's freezing!"

"Smell that fresh air. No smog. No breathing in the neighbors’ burning garbage. No breathing in car exhaust. Breathe in a lungful, honey."

"No thanks. It'll start my allergies up again. Where can I plug in my makeup mirror?"

"Honey, you don't need makeup out here. This is nature. Just go natural."

"Go natural? Sam, I look like a ghost without makeup. How could you possibly even look at me?"

"I love looking at you all natural, baby. You're beautiful. As a matter of fact, I think we should both go natural and go nude this weekend."

"Go nude? Have you lost your mind? Sam, what are you doing?"

"Taking off my clothes, baby. I'm going to be free and let it all hang out this weekend."

"There's something hanging out all right."

"Come on, baby. Let's be as nature intended."

"Sam, have you been smoking those unfiltered, all-natural cigarettes again?"

"No, baby, I'm just high on life. Being out in the great outdoors makes me feel young and horny."

"I think being out in the great outdoors makes you a little bit crazy."

"C'mon, baby, let loose and have some fun."

"Sam, I don't think … Sam, stop tugging on my shorts! My god, what if someone comes up?"

"We're in the middle of the woods, Lorraine. Who's gonna see us?"

"Did you ever hear of the movie “Deliverance"?"

"You're being silly. That was just a movie."

"Yeah, I'll bet Ned Beatty thought the same thing."

"See? Isn't that better? No shorts to hide those gorgeous legs of yours."

"Sam, give me my shorts. I feel ridiculous standing here in just panties."

"Nope, it's going to be an all-natural weekend."

"But, Sam…"

"Let's get that tee shirt off."

"But I'm not wearing a bra!"

"All the better. See? Doesn't that feel refreshing?"

"Well, I have to admit that it does feel invigorating."

"I knew you'd like it, baby. Show Mother Nature those beautiful tits."

"It feels like it did when we went skinny dipping in old man Grainger's pond when we were first married."

"Yeah, it does. There's only one difference, baby."

"What's that?"

"To be skinny-dipping, you have to be completely naked."

"Oh no, Sam, I couldn't. Sam, what are you doing?!"

"Getting rid of these panties, baby. There … now … doesn't that feel better?"

"It feels drafty."

"Are you cold?"

"A little."

"Here … let me warm you up, baby."

"Sam, stop backing me up … Ouch! There's a tree limb up my ass!"

"Sorry."

"Oh, okay … that's better."

"My my, little girl, are you on your way through the woods to Grandma's house with a basket of goodies?"

"No, I'm just trying to keep my husband from sticking his dick in one of these tree knotholes."

"Play along, Lorraine."

"Sorry."

"Where's your basket of goodies, little girl?"

"One of the three little pigs just grabbed it and ran off with it."

"Hmm … so if there's no basket of goodies, I guess I'll just have to take some of that sweet pussy."

"Oh no! Please don't do that! … Am I supposed to run at this point?"

"No, I'm barefoot and if I try to chase you, I'll get those little pine cone stickers in my feet."

"Oh, okay…. Oh, please, Mr. Wolf, don't take advantage of a sweet young virgin."

"Sweet young virgin?"

"Shut up, Sam. You want some pussy or not?"

"Oh my yes, what a sweet young virgin you are."

"Oh, Mr. Wolf, what long fingers you have."

"All the better to touch you with, my dear."

"And oh, Mr. Wolf, what soft, wet lips you have."

"All the better to eat your pussy, my dear."

"You know, Mr. Wolf, this tree limb gives me an idea."

"And what is that, my dear?"

"If I just bend over it like this, you have total access to everything you want."

"Oh yes … that's beautiful. Let me just slide right in behind you and…"

"Oh, Mr. Wolf! What a big hard cock you have!"

"All the better to fuck you with, my dear."

"Oh my god, Sam! Are you sure you weren't hiding a flashlight behind your back?"

"All nice and hard for you, baby."

"Oh yes, it is. Oh fuck me, Mr. Wolf!"

"You're being such a naughty girl, my dear … walking through the woods on your way to Grandma's house and wearing nothing but a smile."

"Oh yes, I know I am! Don't stop!"

"Well, maybe I'd better give you a spank-smack-on your right cheek and a spank-smack-on your left cheek."

"Ow! Oh, yes, Mr. Wolf! Spank me! I've been such a naughty girl! Spread my ass cheeks and spank me with your big hard cock!"

"Well, I don't know, Lorraine. You may have been right. Maybe we shouldn't be out here naked."

"Oh please, don't stop!"

"You don't want the game warden to catch us, do you?"

"He'll have to wait his turn! Fuck me!"

"So you like it when I do this?"

"Yeah, Sam, yeah."

"Right here? Is that where you want it?"

"Ooohhh! Ummmpphhh!"

"I'll take that as a yes."

"Uh huh!"

"Now, I'll show you some real wolf-moves, baby!"

"Oh show me, Sam! Show me!"

"There you go, baby. Get that leg up like that!"

"Sam, my leg doesn't bend like that."

"Sorry."

"Oh, okay, that's better."

"That's it, baby, nice and open like that. Show me that sweet goodie basket."

"Oh Sam! You're so hard!"

"Oh yeah, baby … as hard as that rod and reel in the back of my truck!"

"Ohohoh … Sam … don't stop doing that with your finger."

"Mmm … what a nice ass you got, baby."

"Oh yes … go deeper."

"I dunno, baby. Maybe we should wait until it's dark and do this in the tent so no one can see us."

"Deeper, Sam, deeper."

"But what about the game warden?"

"Sam, if you stop right now, I'm going to break your dick off and throw it in the creek!"

"Lorraine, you're getting a bit loud. What about our commune with nature?"

"Nowwwwww!"

"Right here? Is that where you want it?"

"Ooohhh! Ummmpphhh!"

"I'll take that as a yes."

"Uh huh!"

"You like it when I go in and out like that, baby?"

"Ummm hmmm."

"Lorraine, where were we in the story?"

"Mr. Wolf and the girl fuck the rest of the night away on the tree limb."

"I couldn't have written a better ending myself, baby."

[Back to Table of Contents]

LADIES ROOM

I walked into the ladies room of the high-priced clothing store and saw her standing next to the vanity in front of the mirror, superior and majestic as royalty, a complexion as clear and smooth as the finest Ming porcelain. A tall woman, she wore a silver knee length dress, with emerald stones in her ears that matched the color of her eyes, and auburn hair that lay softly against her neck in curls. Standing next to her, I felt like a little girl as I had not felt in all my life.

I was in awe of her. I wanted to kneel in front of her, and run my hands over the soft curves of her thighs and tummy. She didn't need to do a damn thing but just stand there and let me unzip her dress, slide it down over her ample hips along with her panties, and ease my tongue between her satin pussy lips. I wanted to hold her against the tile wall and plunge half my hand up inside her cunt until she screamed in ecstasy. I wanted to make her come, her nectar so balmy and drenching that it would run down my arm and make me thirst for more.

She was so exceedingly womanly and I wanted to flounder in it, to be female together, to feel her plentiful breasts against mine, her strong thighs against my temples as I brought her to orgasm with only my mouth.

As she leaned towards the mirror and applied color to her lusciously full lips, she glanced over at me. I blushed and smiled and tried to dart my eyes, but her mint diamonds held me in position and I could not tear my stare away.

"Do you like this color?” she asked.

I barely heard her words, as my ears only picked up the soft sound of her deep Southern voice. I had never heard such a sultry declaration in my life.

"Y … yes,” I managed to stutter, “it's a very lovely color on you."

"I think it would look stunning on you,” she continued as she moved a step towards me, “Would you mind?"

Would I mind?

Would I mind if you kissed me?

No. Please kiss me.

Would I mind if you sat on the vanity so I could ravage your pussy with my mouth?

No. Please let me taste you.

"Would I mind?” I asked.

"Would you mind if I put some on your lips?” she asked. “They look a bit pale."

"No, I don't mind,” I whimpered.

She came closer. Her fragrance reached my nostrils and I thought for a moment that I might become lightheaded. She had that aromatic scent that a woman has after having an entire night of earth-shattering sex.

"It's called Ruby,” she told me as she touched the tip of the wand to my lips.

I stood, frozen still like a granite statue, closing my eyes and breathing her in. As she massaged the color over my mouth, I could feel my body trembling.

I felt as if I was being decorated by Aphrodite, goddess of beauty, love and sexual desire, and when it finally got the best of me, I peered out from under my lashes. There she was, only inches away, concentrating on making my lips as perfect as hers, a feat that I knew would be near impossible. Her lips were slightly parted and her breath was sweet, as if she had just eaten a gingerbread cookie, or perhaps even sucked ginger off her man's cock. I wanted to taste her and for the first time in my life, I did the absurd. I kissed her.

It was a soft kiss, perhaps like one you would give a first date the first time you touched her mouth with yours, but a kiss nonetheless. Her eyes grew wide as I pulled back, and for a moment, neither one of us knew what to say. I was the first to recover, so I took the lipstick from her hand.

"I think you need some color on your lips,” I said quietly.

Her eyes softened and a look of desire crossed her face.

"I just put some color on,” she told me.

"Not those lips,” I replied as I touched under her chin with my fingertips, and then began to kneel in front of her.

She looked down and smiled, and then began to lift the front of her dress until her shapely thighs were showing. I looked up and urged her to keep going.

As her crotch came into my view, I realized I was in for a treat. She wore no panties, the heat of the summer having driven the idea of undergarments away, and the swollen lips of her pussy were shaved bare.

I silently went about my delightful task and treated her labia to color, edging carefully with the wand. The blood pulsed to them, and I saw the puffiness of her clit emerge, making the lips swell more. She offered no apology for their condition.

"May I taste?” I asked.

"Yes."

Her voice had a touch of breathlessness to it, and she said the word as I had never heard it said before.

As I lowered my head and touched her clitoris with the tip of my tongue, a shudder went through her body, and she put her hands on the back of my head and into my hair.

"Don't stop,” she whimpered.

I had no intentions of stopping, not until I felt the tremor of her orgasm against my face.

I lapped her taste into my throat. I had never tasted anything as sweet and I licked her pussy like a starving child with his first ice cream cone. My dessert, however, was far more delectable. The pink folds inside her cunt lips were soft, almost like wet velvet, and I devoured her. As I sucked and nibbled, I felt her body responding, bidding me to search for more places of desire. One of my hands reached around to her bottom and as I pulled her tighter to my face, one of her legs moved over my shoulder. I shoved four fingers of the other hand into her cunt, and she gasped and pushed towards my hand for more. Her juices began to coat my nose, chin and mouth as I continued to probe.

"Oh yes,” she cooed, “Oh yes, please don't stop."

I quickly found her most sensitive spot, just beneath her engorged little clit, and her body writhed in pleasure as I nibbled, sucked and licked. When I eased the fleshy hood back with my fingertip and sucked the swollen nub between my lips, an animal-like reverberation came out of her throat, and she pressed me harder, matching her hips with the thrusts of my tongue and fingers.

The waves of pleasure began to wash over her and she cried out as the spasms of her orgasm enveloped her. Surge after surge pulsed through her body until finally she couldn't take anymore and she reached for me to make me stop. I released her and stood. A pink blush had shawled her throat and cheeks, and she held onto the vanity in an attempt to catch her breath.

"What's your name?” she asked as the ability to speak came back to her.

I handed her the tube of color.

"Ruby,” I told her as a smile crossed my face, “now you'll think of me every time you put on your lipstick."

She giggled.

"And now every time I go into a ladies room."

[Back to Table of Contents]

KISS THIS

"Why are men such assholes?” she asked as she finished her second drink.

I wiped off the counter in front of her and put a fresh napkin down for her to put her glass on.

"Not all of them are,” I replied.

"Yes they are,” she said quickly, her hands flying up and gesturing in the air.

I smiled. Being a bartender, I was the sounding board to many a jilted lover.

"You just haven't met the right guy yet,” I told her.

She made a little circle with her index finger and thumb.

"Tiny little assholes … just like this. Every fuckin’ one of them."

I chuckled to myself.

"Miss, don't you think you've had enough to drink?"

"Not just no,” she retorted, suddenly slamming her hand down on the counter, “but Hell no. I can still remember his name."

"Who's name?"

She snapped her fingers in front of her face and thought for a moment.

"Whatshisname? Oh yeah … Jeff. That's the asshole's name."

"So you're trying to drink enough that you forget his name?"

"That's the plan, sweetie. Now, pour me another."

I didn't want to, but it was my job. I poured her another drink. As I put it on the napkin in front of her, I leaned a little closer. I could see she had been crying, so the guy had probably just dumped her.

"Why don't I get you something to eat? Some nacho chips and salsa or something like that? It will make you feel better,” I told her.

"Nah,” she said, waving me away, “I'm not hungry. I just want to spend the evening with Charlie Daniels."

"Charlie Daniels? The country music singer?” I asked.

"I mean Jack Daniels.” She hugged her glass. “My three best friends, Jack Daniels, Jim Beam, and Jose Quarvo."

I chuckled to myself. I could see that I was going to have to pour her into a cab before the night was over.

* * * *

I waited on other customers, but kept an eye on her. She was an attractive woman, and several men hit on her during the evening, but they struck out. All she wanted to do was to drink and forget whatshisname.

"Hey, bartender,” she called, motioning for me to come to her.

"Yes ma'am?” I asked.

"I think my glass has a leak in it. It's empty again."

"Hmm, maybe we could stop the leak with these pretzels,” I told her.

She looked at the bowl of pretzels and smiled at me.

"You're trying to keep me from getting drunk."

"Yes ma'am."

She sat back and looked me over for a moment.

"You know,” she summarized, “you're kind of cute. I like big guys. How tall are you?"

"Six foot seven inches."

A sly grin crossed her face.

"Let's forget about the six foot and talk about the seven inches,” she quoted Mae West.

I laughed. She had a delightful sense of humor.

"Jeez, you should be a wrestler,” she commented.

I laughed again.

"No, I'm not the violent type."

She reached over the counter and grabbed my left bicep.

"My god, your arms are as big as my legs."

Her hand was warm and I could feel a slight stirring in my groin. I shook it off quickly and tried to remain professional.

"Having a little muscle comes in handy when throwing out the obnoxious drunks,” I told her.

She put her hand down and looked solemn.

"Am I being an obnoxious drunk?” she asked.

I shook my head.

"No, you are being a delightful drunk."

She grinned.

"So, what's your name, Paul Bunyan?"

I chuckled at her jesting of my size.

"Jerry,” I told her.

She reached over the counter to shake my hand, and then popped another pretzel in her mouth.

"It's nice to meet you, Jerry,” she said, “I'm Renee."

"Nice to meet you too, Renee. Now, can I get you some coffee?"

The corner of her mouth turned up and she pushed the empty glass away.

"Yeah, black with a little cream."

"Coming up."

I handed her the cup of coffee and pulled a stool up behind the bar. The locals had begun to leave and the place was beginning to empty out, so I could take a little time with my new friend. She wasn't a beauty contest winner by any means, but she was attractive and listened contentedly as I told her my life's story.

"You know,” I told her, “being a bartender, I'm a pretty good listener."

"I wouldn't want to bore you."

I looked around. There were only three other people in the place and two of them had passed out. I'd already called them a cab.

"Well, if you don't talk to me, I'm going to fall asleep and then I'll get fired. You don't want that on your conscience, do you?"

A slight smile curled at the left side of her lip.

"No, I wouldn't want that to happen."

"Good, so tell me why this Jeff person is such an asshole."

She sipped her coffee, then put the cup down and ran her finger around the rim.

"What can I tell you?” she began, “he ran around on me, gambled, ran up my credit cards, and just as we were going to get married, he told me that he had found another woman."

I made a sour face.

"Ouch. So why did you stay with him?"

"Stupidity probably,” she laughed, “I thought he would change."

I spent the majority of the evening with Renee. We ended up in a booth after closing and she told me how she had even moved here to follow the jerk because he was in the service. She moved her hands a lot when she talked and I watched them carefully. They were long and tapered and I could picture her soft hands doing some sort of office work. I could also picture her soft hands on my body. A tingle was starting between my legs.

"May I have another?” she asked.

"Huh?"

Ok, it wasn't my greatest line.

"Coffee. May I have another?"

"Oh yeah, sure."

Before I could get up, she rose from the booth, walked over to the counter, and reached over the bar to pour another cup of java. When she came back, I was smiling.

"What are you grinning at?” she asked as she sat down.

"You,” I replied. “You're a nice lady."

She tossed her dark hair back over her shoulder and gave me her best pout.

"I'm no lady. Especially staying with an asshole like I did."

"Well, I think you're a lady. We don't think so straight when we think we're in love,” I said kindly. A little more mischievous grin over took my face as I continued. “And besides, I was watching you when you leaned over to get the coffee. You've got a nice ass."

"Jerry,” she scolded playfully, “you shouldn't be looking at my ass yet. We just met."

"I know,” I chuckled, “but my eyes are just drawn to a nice bottom. I hope you don't mind."

"I would mind if you hadn't noticed,” she giggled.

At three o'clock, we decided to call it a night and made a date for dinner for the next evening. She was a delightful lady, and I wanted to show her what a true gentleman could be like.

As I walked her to her car, a man stepped out of the shadows and stood between her vehicle and us.

"What are you doing here, bitch?” he snarled.

"J … Jeff!” she squealed, “What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you. What the hell are you doing here? Why aren't you at home?"

His words were a bit slurred and I knew he had been drinking. Renee stood her ground.

"You left, remember? We aren't together anymore."

"Who says we aren't together anymore?” he yelled. “Get your fat ass back to the house before I slap the shit out of you."

I could feel my blood beginning to boil, but I kept my cool.

"Look, buddy,” I told him, “there's no need to talk to the lady like that. Why don't you come inside? I'll get you a cup of coffee and call you a cab."

He looked at me as if he was seeing me for the first time.

"Who the fuck are you?” he shouted. “This is none of your fuckin’ business. Get out of my way!"

He put his hand on me to shove me away, but his push didn't even budge me. He looked up at me again. He looked to be about five foot nine and a bit underweight, and I knew that I could take him, but I didn't want any trouble.

"The lady obviously doesn't want you around,” I told him, “so why don't you leave?"

He took a step back and turned his attention to Renee again.

"I told you to get your ass back to the house!” he slurred.

"It's not your house, Jeff,” she told him, “it's mine, and I've had the locks changed so you can't get in. Your stuff is on the curb."

Hearing this information infuriated him and he slapped her across the face. She quickly grabbed her cheek and I pushed him back against the car.

"Don't ever touch her again!” I told him.

I drew my arm back to punch him in the nose, but before I could swing a fist, she stepped in front of me and punched him herself. As he sat sprawled on the ground holding his bleeding nose, she began ranting.

"You son of a bitch!” she screamed. “You lied to me, you cheated on me, you spent all my money! I loved you! I wanted to marry you! And now you think we should go back to my house together?! Forget it! You're a sorry excuse for a man!"

"Please, baby,” he began to grovel as he got up on his knees. “I still love you. I want us to be together. Please, can't we kiss and make up?"

She looked at me, smiled, turned around, bent over, then put her finger on her bottom and made a hot, hissing sound, as if her tush was too hot to handle.

"Kiss this,” she said.

I grinned at her as she smiled back over her shoulder, and decided that he should do just that. Grabbing him by the collar, I hauled him over to her on his knees.

"Kiss it,” I told him.

He looked up at me.

"You … You've got to be kidding?” he stuttered.

I raised an eyebrow.

"Do I look like I'm kidding?"

He swallowed a lump in his throat and leaned forward to kiss the back of her skirt.

"Not good enough,” she said, “Push my skirt up."

I grinned. She was having fun with this. I twisted his collar so that he felt a little pressure on the back of his neck, and he looked up at me.

"Do what the lady says,” I told him.

He lifted her skirt and lightly kissed the back of her pink panties.

"Did I say ‘kiss my panties'?” she asked, “I said “kiss this” meaning my ass, so do it."

He swallowed again, and then lowered her panties, exposing her bare bottom to both his and my eyes. My cock stirred in my jeans and it took everything I had to keep my hands off of her.

"Kiss it,” she demanded.

He began planting his lips all over her bottom, kept there mostly by my hand on the back of his head. When she was satisfied with what he had done, she stood up and turned around.

"Now, you asshole,” she said sharply, “get out of my sight or I'll turn my bodyguard loose on you."

"Yes, Renee,” he said weakly as he stood up. “I'll miss you."

"Yeah yeah,” she replied nonchalantly, waving him off, “take a hike."

As he wandered off into the darkness, I opened the door to the back seat of her car.

"Sit down, please,” I told her, “I want to get some ice for your cheek."

She got in, but slid across the seat and pulled me to her.

"My cheek is fine,” she said, “but I have something else that needs attention."

Taking my hand, she put it between her legs. Her cunt was as hot as my cock was hard.

"Oh my, Miss Renee,” I chuckled, “what a wet little pussy you have."

"Yes it is,” she giggled, “and I have an idea."

"What's that, pretty lady?” I asked.

She grabbed a handful of my hair and gently pulled my face to her crotch.

"Why don't you kiss this?"

I hummed my approval as I buried my tongue in her pussy. I thought she would never ask.

[Back to Table of Contents]

THE GREAT KISS DEBATE

"Men kiss better than women,” Stephen said as he puffed his chest out and tried to look intimidating.

"Are you crazy?” Caren argued, “women kiss much better than men do."

"Women have those feather-like kisses,” Harvey added. “They're too soft. It tickles my moustache."

"Speaking of moustaches,” I chimed in, “who wants to get all that hair in their mouth when they kiss?"

"I think that's another topic for discussion, Dena,” Stephen replied with a chuckled.

Caren smacked him in the shoulder with an open hand.

"Get your mind out of the gutter! We were talking about kissing."

I giggled.

"You guys think that just because you stuff your tongues down our throats and we make those moaning sounds that we are enjoying it. We're not enjoying that! We're trying to get air!"

"Yeah,” Caren quipped, “you say that we kiss to soft but guys kiss way too hard."

The commotion outside her office concerned the boss, so she opened her door and came out.

"What's going on?” Marsha asked.

"Sorry, boss,” Caren said, “we didn't mean to disturb you. We're just having a discussion and it got a little heated."

"What's the discussion about?” she asked.

"Kissing."

She raised a curious eyebrow. “Excuse me?"

"We were discussing who the better kissers are … men or women,” Harvey told her.

"And what was the conclusion?” she asked with a chuckle.

"No conclusion yet,” I said. “It's a tie and we don't know how to break it."

"I have an idea,” Marsha stated.

Her employees all looked at her and waited for her to continue.

"Why don't we meet at The Ale Loft after work, have a drink, and do a little experiment?"

"What kind of experiment?” Harvey asked.

"We'll have a kissing contest."

Harvey, Stephen, Caren and I smiled at each other and agreed.

* * * *

That afternoon at quitting time, the five of us struck out for The Ale Loft, a popular after-work watering hole. Stephen got there first and got us a table.

"So you see,” said Harvey after the second round of beers, “that is why men are better kissers."

Caren rolled her eyes.

"Harvey, you're drunk."

He grinned.

"Not yet. Maybe one more beer."

Caren turned to Marsha.

"So what did you have in mind for a kissing contest?"

"Well,” Marsha said, “not counting me, I have two men and two women here. I think the four of you should kiss me and let me decide."

"That's not fair,” Stephen whined. “You're a woman so you'll say the women kissed better."

"I won't know who is kissing me,” Marsha stated, “if I am blindfolded."

She took one last sip of her beer, took the scarf from around her neck, and put if over her eyes. As she secured it around the back of her head, she chuckled.

"Ok, now you four have to decide who will be first."

Caren and I looked at each other.

"I've never kissed another woman,” Caren whispered, “have you?"

I didn't want to admit, that being bi-sexual, I had kissed quite a few women, so I just shook my head.

"No, but we have to do a good job, since the guys keep thinking they're the best."

Caren nodded her head.

"You're right. It's for all woman-kind everywhere."

I smiled. Caren had definitely had a little too much to drink.

"All right, who's going to be first?” Marsha asked.

Stephen stepped up to the plate, motioning to us that he would go first. He leaned forward and quickly laid a heavy-mouthed kiss on his employer, and then stood back and grinned. Marsha pressed her lips together in an attempt to realign her teeth, and then smiled.

"Next."

Caren stepped up next, but just as she was about to give the boss a lip lock, modesty took over and she only gave her a quick peck. Caren timidly stepped back and blushed. Marsha sighed and called for the next one.

Stephen saddled up to her, put his hands on each side of her head, pulled her face to his, and put a hard mouth fuck on her. As he stepped back, he smiled, knowing that he had won for his gender.

Marsha took a deep breath and wiped the drool off her chin.

"Ok, let's get this over with,” she said.

It was my turn.

I remembered the way my last female lover had kissed me … softly … tenderly … yet passionately, and I wanted to recreate that with Marsha. I moved just to the side of her, then put my fingertips under her chin and gently turned her face to mine. She opened her mouth to speak, but as she did, I pressed my lips against hers and kissed her.

It was perfect.

I slid just the tip of my tongue between her lips, and as I did, I could hear her moan. She lifted her hands to touch me, but knew she couldn't, since that would be against the rules and give away who was kissing her, so dropped them by her side and surrendered to the passion she was feeling.

Kissing Marsha made me remember a quote I had once read by English author D. H. Lawrence…

"She lifted her face suddenly to him, and he touched it with his lips. So cold, so fresh, so sea-clear her face was, it was like kissing a flower that grows near the surf."

Except that there wasn't a “he” kissing her … it was me. I inhaled her breath and I could smell the cinnamon mint that she had popped into her mouth just before we began the kissing contest. Our lips were slick with passion and her tongue bashfully eased in between my lips, as if she was afraid I would be offended by the felony of her tongue touching mine. When I didn't push away, she gave me more. I sucked on it gently, neither wishing to do it harm nor wanting her to try to force it down my throat like most men that I knew tried to do. Our tongues waltzed together in perfect synchronization for a moment, and when I finally pulled my lips away, I heard her whisper, “Damn."

I opened my eyes and looked around, and for the first time, I realized that the music had stopped, the conversations had paused, the bar noise had discontinued, and no one was eating. Every eye in the place was on us. Most of the men had erections, including the two that were with our party, and most of the women had looks on their faces like they would like to be in our shoes.

Marsha took the blindfold off and smiled at me.

"The women win."

There was a round of applause throughout the house and then several people, including women, came up to our table, apparently wanting their turn at the kissing contest.

"Can I be next?” one gentleman asked.

"You want to be blindfolded and have my four employees kiss you?” Marsha asked.

"Naw,” he said with a grin and then pointed to me, “just her."

"Maybe we should open up a kissing booth and charge admission,” Stephen chuckled as he winked at me.

I smiled and felt my face turning a bright pink.

"Only,” the man said, “if this little lady is your only attraction. Hell, I'd pay to watch her kiss anyone!"

[Back to Table of Contents]

THE CARPET CLEANER

My name is Mark and I'm a carpet cleaner by trade. I've had this job for six years and I've always enjoyed it, but you would be amazed at some of the things I see in people's homes. Most times, it's just pet stains, traffic dirt, you know, things like that, but once in a while … well, I'll let you be the judge.

Take the house on Mockingbird Lane. I'll call the owner “Jane", since I don't want to offend anyone. Jane is a dark-haired, middle-aged, large-breasted wife of a career Navy man, and whenever he is gone to serve our country, Jane calls me to come clean her carpet. Actually, the only carpet she ever wanted cleaned was the one in the bedroom. This is what happened every time I went there.

Jane would meet me at the front door, a smile on her face every time she saw me, as if she was greeting a long lost friend.

"Come in, Mark,” she said, “It's good to see you. It's been a while."

"Yes ma'am,” I countered, “bedroom carpet needs some cleaning?"

"Oh yes, you know how dirty it can get."

"Yes ma'am."

Jane had the cleanest bedroom carpet I had ever seen, but she insisted that I go over it meticulous and slow. I began setting up my equipment in her room as she sat on the bed and watched me.

"The mister out at sea again?” I asked.

"Yes, damn Navy keeps him gone more than he's at home."

I just nodded and began spraying the pre-treatment on the rug. She laid back on the bed with a smile on her face.

"Mark, you don't mind if I entertain myself while you're working, do you?” she asked.

"No ma'am, not at all."

I looked up to see her taking off her clothes and lying back naked on the bed. The look on my face must have given me away.

"This doesn't bother you, does it, Mark?” she asked innocently.

"Uh, oh, no ma'am,” I stuttered, “you do whatever makes you comfortable."

She smiled again and reached into her nightstand for a vibrating dildo, then opened her legs, closed her eyes, and began rubbing it against her pussy.

"Mmm … this feels good,” she muttered.

It was hard to keep my mind on business as Jane pleasured herself with her imaginary lover. Her body writhed and squirmed in ecstasy. She was an older woman, but her body was still firm in all the right places. She had told me once that she had been a waitress at the CPO club at the Navy base in her younger days, but she would sometimes take the gentlemen in the back room and give them a lap dance. Dancing is what kept her legs strong and firm. It was also how she met her husband.

As I moved the spiral cleaner over the rug, I glanced up to see Jane put the plastic penis inside her pink folds. This caused her to moan uncontrollably and caused a rise in my jeans. Her free hand moved to her breasts, rolling and kneading them as if she were preparing bread, and her nipples became hard and rigid under her fingers.

It never mattered how long it took me to clean the carpet … Jane would put off her orgasm until I had turned off the machine and stood helplessly at the foot of the bed, waiting to be paid. She screamed as the climax took over and I shoved my hands in my pockets to keep from grabbing my cock. It was a vulnerable feeling and I could hardly wait to get to my van so that I could have my own orgasm.

Jane, still naked, smiling, and panting slightly, would give me my money, give me a kiss on the cheek, and tell me to take care until she needed her carpet cleaned again. I secretly hoped that it wouldn't be long before I would get her call.

* * * *

The house on Palmetto Drive was a bit different. The first time I arrived at the brick ranch-style, I could hear the couple arguing from outside the front door. I hesitated to ring the bell, but I didn't want them to think that I was late. A red-faced man opened the door.

"What?!” he yelled.

"I … uh … I'm Mark from A-1 Carpet Cleaners,” I stumbled, “I have a 9:00 appointment here."

"Oh, yeah, I forgot,” he said, immediately becoming calmer, “come on in."

"Are you sure?” I quivered, peering in.

He walked ahead, leaving me in the foyer, so I came in and closed the door behind me. His wife stood quietly in the kitchen, embarrassed, I assumed, by the fact that I heard them arguing. I tried to set her mind at ease.

"You know, my parents have a brick home similar to this one. It's so well insulated, you can't hear a thing through the walls."

One corner of her mouth turned up, but she didn't look convinced.

"Mike!” yelled the husband, “come in here."

I followed the voice to find him kneeling over a red stain.

"Can you get this wine stain out?” he asked.

"Yes sir,” I replied, “I'll do my best. Oh, and it's Mark."

He stood and waved his hand nonchalantly.

"Whatever. What about this pet stain?"

"Yes sir. Our treatment specializes in pet stains."

"Good,” he growled, “my wife's piece-of-shit dog tries to use the carpet as his own personal toilet."

I looked over as she scooped up her puppy and tried to comfort it. The little tike didn't look any older than a few months and I knew from experience that it took some puppies a little longer to become house broken.

"Not a problem, sir."

"Good,” he repeated, then turned his attention to his wife and took her arm, “Come along, my dear. We have some unfinished business to take care of and the boy has work to do."

He led her out of the room and I stared after him. Boy? Who was he calling a boy? I was in my late 20's.

As I set up my equipment and began spraying on the pre-treatment, I could hear them arguing again.

"Look at this bill!” he yelled, “Why the hell do you have to spend so much on clothes?"

"But you like for me to look good, honey,” she countered.

"Look good, yes, but not spend a fortune doing it!"

From my position in the dining room, I could look right into their bedroom. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, with her standing beside him, her hands wringing in anticipation.

"I've had it with your over-spending, young lady,” he scolded, “and if you are going to act like a naughty little girl, you're going to be treated like one."

Without announcement, he grabbed her by the arm and dragged her over his lap. She began kicking and screaming, but his arm across her back held her tightly in place.

"No! Please! I won't do it anymore!” she screeched.

"No, you certainly won't after I get finished."

He laid several hard smacks on her skirt covered bottom, then lifted the material out of the way and began spanking the center of her black panties.

"Robert! Ow! Please!” she begged, “Not while the carpet cleaner is here!"

"I don't care who's here,” he told her. “You need to be taught a lesson."

I could see the skin to the sides of her panties getting pink and she kicked like a ten-year-old that had just gotten caught for smoking.

"This needs to be a bare bottom spanking,” he said out loud, and with that, jerked her panties down to the middle of her thighs. She shrieked loudly, wiggling and trying to get off of his lap, but he had a tight grip.

I couldn't move my eyes away as he laid swat after swat on her lovely little ass. Her skin went from a light pink to crimson within moments. Her yelps began to fill the room.

"Please! Robert!” she cried, “I won't spend any more money! You can have my credit cards! Please! Stop!"

He stopped and looked down at his captive bride.

"Do you promise you can control your spending and I won't ever have to take this kind of action again?” he asked.

She sniffled.

"Yes, yes, I promise."

He helped her to her feet and it was at that moment I saw her glance at me and smile. She had known all along that I had been watching.

"Now, young lady,” her husband continued as he pulled a straight back chair to the center of the room, “you are to bend over this chair with your skirt pulled up and your panties pulled down and stay there for fifteen minutes. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir,” she replied as she bent over the back of the chair and put her hands on the seat.

He adjusted her clothing the way he wanted it, then looked out the doorway directly at me. I turned away quickly, fumbling with the sprayer, trying not to look as if I had been watching.

"Mike,” he said, “come over here."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and walked over to him.

"It's Mark."

He waved his hand.

"Whatever. Here's two hundred dollars."

"That's too much, sir. The carpet cleaning is only…"

He cut me off in mid-sentence.

"I want you to do me a favor."

"Yes sir?"

"I have to go in to the office, but I want my wife in time out for fifteen minutes. The extra money is a tip for you if you will make sure she stays where she is for that length of time. Will you do that?"

I looked at the money in my hand and then over at his wife, who was shifting from foot to foot, making her lovely pink bottom sway deliciously.

"Yes sir, I would be happy to."

"Good,” he said, giving me a pat on the shoulder, “Good man."

And with that, he was out the door, leaving me alone with his half-naked bride.

"Mark, could you come in here, please?” she called.

Part of me wanted to go, part of me didn't. Okay, the part that wanted to go was below my belt, and the part that didn't was … well, there wasn't a part that didn't. I entered the room.

"Yes ma'am?"

"My husband said I can't get up for fifteen minutes,” she said, “and my skin is stinging awfully bad. Would you mind rubbing some lotion on my bottom to cool it down?"

"Uh … well, no ma'am, I don't mind."

"Good. The lotion is there on the vanity."

I retrieved the bottle, squirted some cream into my hand, and began applying it to her pink pelt. She wiggled and moaned.

"Oh, that feels so much better. Please don't stop."

I took a deep breath and continued my delightful chore. I was a little afraid that lotion in my hand wasn't the only thing I would be squirting before the night was over. The whole exhibition ended up being a scene I would play over and over in my mind for many months to come. Literally, to come.

* * * *

I once came to a house where two women lived together. I didn't think anything about it at first, thinking they might be college roommates or perhaps coworkers sharing a house, but quickly changed my mind on that idea when they both answered the door wearing nothing but panties and white lace bras.

"Uh, hi,” I stammered, “I'm Mark from A-1 Carpet Cleaners. I've got a 4:00 appointment with Julie."

"I'm Julie,” said the tall, slender blonde, “and this is my roommate Zoe."

I shook her hand, although I could hardly take my eyes off their scantily clad bodies.

"It's nice to meet you both."

"Come on in,” she said, “I'll show you around."

Zoe was the quieter of the two and followed as we went from room to room. Julie showed me what she wanted cleaned and then looked at her roomie.

"Do you think he should do the upstairs?” she asked.

Zoe, a much more petite redhead with large breasts and an ass to die for, nodded her head.

"Oh yes, the upstairs room could use a good cleaning too."

"Just show me the way, ladies,” I chirped, anxious to follow them so I could watch the sway of their bottoms as they climbed the steps.

They led me up a flight of stairs and to a single door at the top. As Julie opened the door, I stood there in astonishment. There, in the middle of the room, was a large X. It was lifted from the floor about waist high by four metal legs and a support in the middle, and appeared to have a soft cushion of padding on the top. The entire thing looked to be about seven or eight feet long.

"I … uh … I,” I began, stammering all over myself in the attempt to appear cool. It was no use. I wasn't being cool and it showed.

"It's a Swinger's X,” Julie said, “haven't you ever seen one?"

I shook my head cautiously.

"Zoe brought it with her when she moved in,” she continued, “and we have so much fun with it.” She turned and winked at the redhead. “Would you like to see how it works?"

"Um … yeah, sure,” I said, “I'm always interested in learning new things."

I definitely knew they weren't just good friends now.

Julie took Zoe by the hand and led her over to the X.

"You see,” she explained, “you can use it whether your partner is on their tummy or on their back.” She turned her friend towards the X with her back to us. “I like to put Zoe on her tummy, since she has such a nice ass."

She unfastened the redhead's bra, letting her bare breasts gently fall, then knelt down and peeled her panties off, leaving her naked in front of me. Without a word, Zoe climbed up on the padded X, and stretched her body out on the middle so that her legs were parted and down the bottom half of the X, and her arms were extended on the top half of the X. The middle was just long enough for her to lie comfortably with her head at the top and her crotch at the bottom. I could see the finely trimmed red hair around her mound and pussy lips. I was getting a tremendous hard on.

"This way,” Julie continued as if she were teaching a high school health class, “Her cunt is open and very accessible for me to kneel between her legs and eat her pussy."

She stopped talking long enough to put her face between her roommate's thighs and lapped her juices to demonstrate. I shifted from foot to foot, trying to will my erection to go down. It was no use. It wasn't listening to reason.

She stood up and continued fingering her friend's pussy as she went on with her explanation. Zoe moaned and wiggled her bottom to take more of Julie's digit.

"With Zoe's large titties,” she said, “she can't keep them all up on the cushioned part, so they hang down and I can lean under her and suck on them, just like a calf sucking on his mother's tits."

She proceeded to show me as she repositioned herself and took one of Zoe's large pink nipples in her mouth. The redhead wiggled to be able to shove more of her breast between Julie's lips and scooted up a bit too far. The blonde noticed.

"You naughty girl,” Julie scolded, “how can I lick your pussy if you move up on the X?"

Before Zoe could answer, Julie leaned over her, forced her legs apart even more than the X had them, and began spanking the redhead's pussy lips with her hand. The captive one groaned at the stinging that was spreading through her most private place, and then moaned as Julie began to caress it.

"I love Zoe,” Julie said, “so I can never really hurt her."

It was almost getting to be too much for me. It felt as someone had stuck a tree limb in my pants.

"Do you ever get on the X?” I asked.

"Oh yes, I have a favorite position on it,” she answered.

Without hesitation, Zoe got off and Julie got on. The blonde climbed up and then stretched out on her back with her legs bent at the knees. Everything, and I mean everything, was in full view.

"This is a perfect position to lick her pussy,” Zoe explained, “She's so open this way."

I could see that. I could see everything.

Zoe knelt down at the base of the X and began licking her friend's shaved cunt, then slipped a finger inside. The captive one moaned as I had never heard a woman moan before. The redhead lifted her head and grinned.

"Would you like to try it?” she asked.

That was a silly question. Everything in me wanted to try it … to lick away at Julie's pussy and then ram my stiff rod inside of it … but I couldn't. I shook my head.

"I'm sorry,” I told her, “I'm married."

"I can honor that,” she said, “but just in case you change your mind, you know our address."

I nodded.

"Do you think we can postpone your carpet cleaning until tomorrow?” I asked.

"Sure."

"Good,” I told them as I backed out of the room, “I'll see you tomorrow."

I jumped in my van and headed home. My wife met me at the door with a puzzled look on her face.

"I thought you had a 4:00 appointment,” she said.

"It got postponed until tomorrow,” I told her as I took her hand and led her to the bedroom, “I have something of more urgent matters to take care of now."

She oohhed and ahhed when I undressed and she saw the hardness of my cock, and then knelt down to take it in her mouth.

"I don't know what caused this,” she said as she lifted her head and smiled at me, “but whatever it was, I hope it happens again."

I moaned as she devoured my penis and pushed a little more into her throat.

"You can count on it,” I murmured, “be naked and in the bed at 5:00 tomorrow. You'll get a repeat performance."

DOGGIE STYLE

"Sam!"

"Yes, Lorraine?"

"I can't believe you just did that!"

"Just did what?"

"You kicked the dog."

"I didn't kick the dog."

"Yes you did. I just saw you out the kitchen window. You took your foot and kicked the dog."

"Lorraine, all I did was tap the dog on the rump with my foot to get him to go out in the grass."

"Tapping with a foot is called kicking, Sam."

"No, honey, tapping with a foot is still tapping. He wouldn't stop sniffing that dead bug on the driveway, so I just gave him a little nudge with my foot to move him along so he would go out in the grass and pee."

"It looked to me as if you kicked him pretty hard."

"You know I would never hurt the dog, Lorraine. Here, let me show you."

"Show me what?"

"Show you how I just tapped the dog with my foot."

"How are you going to show me that, Sam?"

"Get down on your hands and knees."

"Excuse me?"

"I just want to show you how I tapped the dog with my foot."

"Do I look like I just fell off the turnip truck?"

"No, of course not, but I want you to believe me."

"I believe you, Sam. I've got to finish the dishes now."

"No, I can tell by the sound in your voice that you don't believe me. C'mon, Lorraine, humor me."

"Alright, Sam, what do you want me to do?"

"Get on your hands and knees on the carpet."

"Like this?"

"Yeah, just like that."

"Do I get to wag my tail like Fido does?"

"Don't do that, Lorraine."

"Why not?"

"Cause when you wiggle your hiney back and forth like that, your skirt crawls up and I can see your panties."

"So?"

"So, I might start getting some kinky ideas."

"Start getting kinky ideas? Sam, you've had kinky ideas since the day we were married."

"I know, but the ideas are really flowing now."

"So if wag my tail like this and show you that I'm a happy puppy, my skirt comes up?"

"Yep, and the Mr. Happy in my pants starts wagging too."

"And if I put my head down like this and show you that I'm an obedient little puppy?"

"Mmm … I can see all those pretty lace panties now."

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Are dogs supposed to wear panties?"

"Hmm … good point, Lorraine. No, they're not supposed to wear panties."

"Then I guess these should come off, huh?"

"Yes, they should. Here, allow me."

"Ummph."

"There? Isn't that better?"

"It's actually a little cold now. I don't have fur to cover me like Fido does."

"Oh, you have fur, baby, but not the kind that Fido has."

"What kind of fur do I have, Sam?"

"Mmm … you have edible fur, baby … delicious, edible fur."

"Can you see my fur when I spread my legs apart like this, Sam?"

"Oh yeah, baby. That's pretty fur."

"Sam, what are you doing?"

"Taking off my pants, baby. You're going to teach an old dog some new tricks."

"Oh, Sam! Do you have a bone in your pocket or are you just glad to see me?"

"Both, baby. I got a big bone just for my little bitch in heat."

"Slide your big bone in, Sam. Oh yes! Right there in my hot little doghouse!"

"Every dog has his day, baby!"

"Ummph!

"Oh man! I'll trade a box of milk bones for this any day!"

"Oooohhh, Sammmmm!"

"It's a dog's life, baby! Woooooof!"

"No fleas on you, Sam! Give your little bitch what I need!"

"Yeaaaahhhh, baby! You get any hotter and I'm going to have to put a collar and leash on you to keep the other dogs from finding out you're in heat!"

"Pump it, Sammmmmm!!! Yessssssss!"

"Ummph!! Jesusssssssss!"

"Sam?"

"Huh?"

"Are you ok?"

"Just dog tired, baby."

"-laughing-Does that mean you won't take this little puppy to the pound?"

"You have a dog house here for life, baby."

"Sam?"

"Huh?"

"Do you want to get up and take a shower?"

"No, baby. Just let sleeping dogs lie."

F BUDDIES

We had been friends since we were three years old, so when we graduated from college, went into the same field of work, and neither of us was married, it was only natural that we become room mates.

Sara was a beauty, but I tried to think of her as just a buddy instead of a girl. She had blonde hair and blue eyes and a killer body that had filled out nicely over the years that I had known her. When we moved into the two-bedroom, one-bath apartment, she had been wearing a pair of short cut-off jeans and a tank top that showed off her cleavage every time she bent over to pick up a box. I told myself that I couldn't think of her that way, but it was hard not to do when she would strip down to her panties and a large tee shirt after a hard day's work, and dance around the kitchen to Tina Turner's “Proud Mary” as she stirred something on the stove.

Sara and I had helped each other through many lost loves. I would fuss about the latest bitch that I had gone out with and she would give me comforting words, and I would do the same thing when her latest beau had broken her heart. Her newest suitor, Grant, seemed to be the ideal mate, when suddenly it all turned sour. She came home from their date in tears.

"I hate men!” she screeched as she slammed the front door and threw her handbag to the floor.

I put my beer on the coffee table and looked up from the sofa.

"What's wrong?"

"Men are pigs! I'm going to turn into a lesbian!” she bellowed.

I couldn't help but smile. Seeing two women together had been a long time fantasy of mine.

"Come over here and tell me all about it,” I said as I tried to console her.

"Don't patronize me, Phillip,” she warned, “I'm too pissed off."

"I'm not patronizing you, honey,” I told her, “just come over here and tell me what happened. Here, finish my beer and I'll get us a couple more."

She downed my brew before I could leave the room. It looked like this was going to be a six-pack night.

Once I got her calmed down, she began to tell me how, after two months of dating, that she had found out that Grant was married.

"The asshole. How did you find that out?” I asked

"His wife called him on his cell phone while we were at dinner. He couldn't help but answer it because one of his children had been sick."

"Geez, what a jerk. I hope you told him off."

The expression on her face changed and she giggled.

"I guess you could say that,” she told me as she took another swig from her beer, “I stood up in the restaurant, called him every name in the book, then threw my plate of lasagna in his lap and walked out. I wish I could have been there when he tried to explain that stain to her."

I couldn't help but laugh as I pictured her tantrum. Sara always had a flare for the dramatic.

"So did he try to defend himself?” I asked.

She waved her hands around.

"Same shit, different day,” she said, “My wife doesn't understand me, she hates to have sex, the kids take up all her time, yada, yada, yada. God, and I was so horny tonight."

"Well, sounds like it was best to find out about the jerk early,” I told her.

She began to tear up.

"I know,” she sniffled, “but I was really starting to care about him."

I reached over and put my arm around her, pulling her to my shoulder.

"I know, honey. Maybe I should go and try to seduce his wife to get even."

She giggled.

"That would teach him.” She sat upright and wiped her eyes. “Why can't I find someone sweet like you?"

I stiffened my jaw and tried to look chivalrous.

"They broke the mold when they made me."

"And not at all modest about it, are you?” she snickered.

"Hey, when you got it, flaunt it,” I replied.

She threw a sofa pillow at me.

"You arrogant rat!” she laughed, “I'm going to take a bath. If Grant calls, tell him I moved and to fuck off."

And with that, she left the room. At least I had made her smile.

* * * *

She was about ten minutes into her bath, when all the beers I had drunk hit my bladder and I had to pee. Since we didn't have a yard, I couldn't go out and whiz on a tree, and I knew for a fact that Sara would tan my hide if I used the kitchen sink. I tapped on the bathroom door.

"Yes?” she called out.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your bath, but I've got to pee."

"It's ok,” she said, “I'll just close the shower curtain."

I gave her a moment to wall herself, and then went in. Sure enough, she had pulled the shield closed, so I was free to whiz in private.

"I'll be out in just a minute,” I told her.

She peeked her head around the curtain and smiled.

"No rush."

Being in mid-stream as I was, I couldn't move or I would have sprayed the floor. I blushed and continued to answer nature's call.

"That thing is a lot bigger than it was when we were kids,” she said.

I laughed.

"Well, I would be pretty embarrassed if it hadn't grown along with the rest of my body."

"Well, you have plenty to be proud of,” she observed.

Instead of putting it back in my shorts when I was finished, I held my cock in my hand and gave it a few loving strokes.

"So, I think this is where I say something like ‘Since you've seen mine, I get to see yours',” I told her.

She grinned and pulled back the curtain.

"You've seen it before."

I knelt down by the tub and caressed her lather-covered breasts in my hand.

"I remember that,” I said, “we were about eight years old."

"Yep,” she purred as I touched, “your grandfather was a pediatrician and we were playing behind his barn. You sneaked one of his stethoscopes and a thermometer out so we could play doctor."

I picked up the wash cloth and began washing her back.

"That was fun,” I chuckled, “I made you open your shirt so I could put the stethoscope on your little titties, and then I made you bend over a bale of hay and pull your panties down so I could take your temperature."

"I think you left that thermometer in my ass a lot longer than you needed to,” she giggled.

"Well, I wanted to make sure I got an accurate reading."

"Bullshit,” she laughed, “you just liked looking at my ass."

I chuckled.

"Yeah well, that too. That's never changed."

She cocked an eyebrow.

"You still like to look?"

"Well, sure, I'm only human."

She gave me a sly grin and got on her hands and knees in the tub, raising her bottom.

"Want to take my temperature again?” she giggled.

My dick was bouncing in my lap.

"We don't have a thermometer."

"You're a smart boy,” she said, raising an eyebrow and giving me that ‘come on, big boy’ look, “improvise."

I rubbed my hand over her slick, wet bottom, and then began taking my pants off.

"I think I've got something that will fit,” I told her as I slipped in behind her in the tub.

Without foreplay, fondling, caressing, or announcement, I put the head of my cock between the swollen lips of her pussy and entered. She squealed loudly, and then began panting as she pushed back for more. I could feel her pink folds opening to take me, then squeezing as I pulled back. She was tight, there was no doubt about it, and it took everything I had not to come within the first few seconds of being inside her.

"Oh, that's it, Phillip, fuck me!” she cried out.

We went at it like a couple of teenagers in heat. We fucked in the tub, on the bathroom floor, against the wall, on the sofa, and finally in my bed. I lost count of how many times that I orgasmed and I made her come over and over again with my dick, my mouth, and my hands. She sucked me, fucked me, and stroked me. We finally collapsed around two o'clock in the morning.

"Gee, Phil,” she giggled as she pushed the covers away in order to cool off, “If I had known that I was living with a marathon fucker, I wouldn't have bothered to go out and date."

I laughed.

"Well, maybe when we aren't in a relationship, we should just fuck each other."

"Hmm,” she hummed, “Fuck buddies. I can go along with that."

I cuddled her into my arms and kissed her forehead, realizing that I had been in love with Sara since we were three years old.

"Yeah,” I told her, “but just don't expect me to be out there looking for new pussy any time soon."

ANDREW'S GIFT

"I have a gift for you, my dear,” I told my young wife.

She put down the trashy tabloid magazine she was reading and looked up.

"A present for me, Andrew?” she asked.

"Yes, my dear,” I said, “but I must explain it to you first."

She pulled her legs up in the chair and folded them Indian-style.

"Okay."

I sat down across from her.

"You know how I've been having trouble getting an erection since the doctor put me on this blood pressure medication."

She nodded.

"I believe it is unfair for you to be deprived of your sexual needs just because I am unable to adequately perform at this time,” I continued.

A confused look began to cross her face. I smiled and thought of a more simple way to put it.

"I think you need a way to have sex even though I can't get hard right now."

Her face brightened.

"Did you buy me a dildo?"

"No, my dear,” I told her, “something much better."

"A vibrating dildo?"

I chuckled. My bride was so easy to please.

"I bought you a body."

She looked down at her breasts, then looked at me.

"But Andrew,” she countered, “you already bought my titties. What else is there to buy?"

I gazed at her perfect 34C bosom. They had been a capital investment.

"The body is not for you to wear, Tiffany darling,” I said, “the body is for you to use."

The same confused look crossed her face again. I was just going to have to come out and say it in layman's terms.

"I brought home a young man for you to have sex with,” I explained, “You can use him to your heart's content and then send him away until you need to have sex again."

She gasped.

"But Andrew!” she squealed, “that would be adultizing!"

I chuckled.

"I believe you mean ‘adultery', sweetheart."

"Yes, yes, that word! I couldn't cheat on you!"

"But it would not be cheating, darling,” I explained, “I would be right here in the room and you would have my permission to do it. I would never leave you alone with someone that you did not know."

She thought about it for a moment.

"You would be right here? What if I didn't like the guy?"

"Then we would dismiss him and find someone more to your liking."

She picked at the red paint on her big toenail.

"I don't know, Andrew,” she squirmed, “it seems kind of weird."

"It is a gift, my dear,” I told her, “and I do know how much you love the pleasures of the flesh."

She giggled.

"I do love to fuck, don't I?"

I nodded.

"Yes, darling, you do."

She picked at the red paint again.

"So, when does he come over?"

"As soon as you wish,” I replied, “all I have to do is make a telephone call."

"Can I go take a shower first?"

"Of course, darling,” I said, “and why don't you put on that lovely red outfit that I bought you a couple of weeks ago?"

"The fishnet one?"

"Yes, my dear."

"Okay."

She got up and took a few steps, then turned to me again.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?"

"Yes, darling. I would not have suggested it if it was not alright with me."

"Okay,” she giggled and then ran off to take her shower.

I sighed. I adored my young bride, but sometimes the thirty-year age difference was a bit exasperating. I picked up the telephone and called the young stud.

* * * *

Eric was a flesh copy of the statue Adonis … blonde, beautiful, built, a bit guileless, much like my Tiffany. He sat in the chair opposite mine and appeared to be apprehensive, as I'm sure my request for him to ravish my wife was not a common solicitation.

"My wife should be out momentarily,” I told him.

"Okay,” was his only reply.

Tiffany appeared at the door at that moment.

"Hello gents,” she sang.

She was breath-taking, the most beautiful I had ever seen her, and it was apparent by the way Eric was looking at her that he was of the same rationalization. Her cheeks were pink with the excitement of her upcoming tryst and her breath was already coming out in quiet pants. Her outfit, the red fishnet catsuit that I had requested she wear, adhere to her body like a second skin. There were two cut outs for her nipples to extend through and an opening in the crotch that revealed her pink satin pussy lips. I had always insisted that she keep her pussy shaved and beautifully bare, and she did so lovingly. I could see the rise in Eric's pants as my wife struck a pose in the doorway.

"You look exquisite, my dear,” I told her as I took her hand and led her ceremoniously into the room, “I would like for you to meet Eric. Eric, this lovely creature is my wife Tiffany."

They said hello to each other, but seemed a bit shy to get started. I decided that an icebreaker was in order.

"Why don't I turn on an adult movie to get you in the mood and I'll prepare us some drinks."

As I switched on a movie and made my way to the door, I turned to see Eric standing and walking towards my wife. Yes, I thought, he will do just fine.

By the time I returned with the drinks, he had pressed her against the wall and they were engaged in a hot, torrid kiss. A twinge of jealousy went through my veins as I watched and remembered when just kissing my lovely bride would make my cock rise in my pants. Now it seemed as if it took an act of Congress to get it to do so.

I sat back on the velvet chaise lounge and sipped my brandy as I watched the scene unfold. It was beginning to look like one of my xxx-rated adult movies.

Eric opened Tiffany's legs and began fingering her pussy through the separation in her outfit. She let out a loud moan. I smiled. This was going to be quite a performance to witness.

She pressed her open mouth to his as her hand went straight between his legs.

"You're so hard,” she groaned, her mouth trailing from his as his hands tightened their grasp around her waist.

She dropped to her knees and pressed her mouth against the outline of his bulge while fumbling with his zipper, then slowly unfastened his pants and reached inside. She tried to wrap her hand around his cock but couldn't manage to get it around the thickness. I could see the urgency in her face as she pulled his pants to the floor in the enthusiasm to see him.

His cock jumped forward and for a split second, she lost her breath as the large head came out.

"You have the biggest cock I have ever seen,” she whispered.

She pulled his rod to her face and slowly worked her lips around it. His head tilted back and he closed his eyes in delirious enlightenment.

As she felt him tensing, she let him slip from the wetness of her mouth. Standing up, she wrapped her hand around him, and pulled him to her until the head of his cock met her clit. Her knees trembled as she looked down to see their sexes meeting. She stroked him, moving him up and down her swollen slit. Tiffany looked over at me and I nodded my approval for them to continue.

He pressed into her and for a moment, the look on her face was that she thought he might be too large for her to take.

"You're so tight,” he said, pressing harder against her, moving slowly, drawing her onto him.

Her tight pussy began to give to accommodate him.

"Oh, fuck,” she moaned. “My pussy has never been stretched like this."

She wanted him all.

"You're so thick,” she whimpered as she pulled him in more, “Ohmygod, yes. F … fuck me hard."

He turned her around, bent her over, and began thrusting his cock in and out, and her hips pushed back to eagerly meet every move. She placed her hands high on the wall, spreading her legs wide and sticking her ass up as high as she could. I smiled. Tiffany had such a wonderful ass and she displayed it proudly. He grasped her hips and plunged into her from behind with hard, long strokes.

I could see the sweat dripping from his forehead and landing on the small of her back as he pounded her wet cunt. His large, hairless balls bounced against her pussy lips with every plunge.

"Harder,” she whimpered.

I could see her starting to orgasm … that explosion that comes from deep inside her pussy, taking over her body like nothing else can. Her legs began to tremble and her cunt was an open cave.

"I'm coming!” he called out

"Come inside me!” she begged, “Fuck me hard! I want to feel you come inside me!"

She felt him tense and she tightened her pussy muscles on him. His head fell back and she felt his spasms inside her. His body shook, then he withdrew his cock, and stumbled back against the bed.

"My god,” he groaned, “That was incredible."

Tiffany looked over at me to see if everything was still all right. Everything was more than all right. I had been stroking my cock while watching and for the first time in a long time, it was hard as a rock. She smiled and came over, kneeling beside the chaise.

"May I suck it, Andrew?” she asked timidly.

"Yes, my dear. Please do."

She put her hand around my shaft, taking it gingerly in her fingers as if she were touching fine porcelain.

"It will not break, darling,” I told her, “you may hold it tighter."

She held it firmer, then lowered her face to it, engulfing the head between her lips. I moaned, giving myself over to her talented mouth.

As much as I loved her blow jobs, what I really wanted was to officially make love to my bride as I had before taking the blood pressure medication.

"Darling,” I breathed as I stroked her golden hair, “let's go to the bed."

"No,” she said quickly, “I'm not giving this a chance to go down."

With that, she stood up, got on the chaise with me, and straddled my lap to lower her pussy onto my cock.

It had been a long time since I had seen my bride take charge and take what she wanted, so I willingly allowed her to do so. Her eyes closed, her lips parted, and she tilted her head back as she sank down on my shaft and I put my hands on her wasp-size waist to pull her down even tighter. She moaned, as did I, and then we began to move together, developing a rhythm that we could both be comfortable with.

By this time, Eric had recovered and came over to watch. To be honest, the thought of being observed before this night would have made my cock shrivel up and hide beneath my balls, but there was something about being with Tiffany now in front of his young man that made me feel like Superman.

He reached, almost bashfully, for his own cock, looking at me to see if it was all right that he did so. I neither gave him the go ahead sign nor the sign that he couldn't. I didn't care. All that mattered to me at that moment was my lovely bride and how much pleasure I was bringing her.

The harder Tiffany rode my cock, the harder Eric stroked his own shaft. She glanced over, seemingly just aware that he was there, and smiled.

"Come on my titties,” she told him.

He moved a bit closer and held his rod near her breasts so he would not miss his target when his orgasm came. She didn't have to wait long. Just as she began to come, the squeezing of her muscles around my cock made me come, and the sight of us climaxing together made Eric erupt. He sprayed her breasts, his cum sticking, in some places, to the fishnet. If this had been baseball, we would have had a triple play.

"You know, Andrew,” Tiffany giggled as she rubbed his cum into her skin, “we have a whole wing on the right side of the house that we don't even use. Perhaps Eric would be interested in moving in."

I chuckled.

"That, my dear,” I summarized, “would be up to Eric, but I think it is a perfectly wonderful idea."

We both looked at the young man and he grinned. I had a feeling we were about to take in a boarder.

[Back to Table of Contents]

POLICE STORY: THE SPEEDER

I had been a cop for twenty of my forty years, and I thought I had heard just about every excuse there was for speeding. One gentleman was in a hurry to get home because Monday night football was starting; one lady thought she left something baking in the oven; and one young man even said the speedometer in his brand new Corvette was broken and he didn't know how fast he was going. His ticket cost the most of any I had given out.

But the one that really floored me was the time I pulled a lady over for doing 67 miles per hour in a 40 miles per hour road construction area, although luckily the workers were at lunch. As I walked up to the driver's side of her sports car, she rolled the window down and smiled at me.

"Ma'am, do you know how fast you were going?” I asked.

"Yes, officer,” she replied, “I was doing a little over sixty five."

Her honesty surprised me. Most of them tried to play dumb and say they didn't realize how fast they were going. I cleared my throat.

"May I see your license and registration, please?"

"Certainly."

She took her driver's license from her wallet and handed it to me, then leaned over to the glove compartment for the registration. As she leaned, I couldn't help but notice she was wearing a very short skirt that barely concealed her bottom. I tried to look away, but found it almost impossible.

As she handed me the registration, she smiled again. She was pretty, not God's gift to men by any means, but still pretty, with shoulder length brown hair and twinkling blue eyes, and probably a few years younger than myself, with a devilish grin that was almost contagious.

"This is the first car I've ever bought on my own,” she announced proudly. “My ex would never allow me to get a sports car, so I'm pretty tickled about it. I'm pretty tickled about him being my ex too,” she added with a giggle.

"Being proud of your new car is a good thing,” I said, and then paused to look at her license for her name, “Ms. Kent, but speeding is not a good way to show it off. Is there a reason why you were going so fast?"

I waited. I expected one of the usual excuses, when all of a sudden, she dumbfounded me with a new one.

"Yes, officer,” she said, still grinning, “I was horny."

I stood silent a moment, letting her words sink in.

"Ex … excuse me?"

"You heard me,” she paused and looked at my name tag, “Officer Robbins, I was horny and I wanted to get home so I could use my new dildo."

She reached into the tiny back seat and pulled out a plastic shopping bag, then reached in the bag and pulled out an adult toy. I stood there speechless for a few seconds, just looking at the imitation penis.

"It looks like the real thing, doesn't it?” she asked.

"Y … yes, it's quite realistic,” I fumbled my words.

"I thought so too,” she replied, “so I bought it, and now I'm in a hurry to try it out."

I swallowed what felt like a brick in my throat and took out my pad and pen.

"Well, I'm afraid I'm still going to have to give you a ticket for speeding, although I won't put down that it was in a road construction zone. The cost of the ticket would triple if the workers were here."

"I appreciate it, Officer Robbins,” she said calmly, “you do what you have to do."

As I went around to the back of the car to write down the license plate number, I could see through the back glass that she was unwrapping the plastic off of her new toy. I took a deep breath, focused on the paper, and kept writing.

I went back to the driver's side door with full intentions of scolding her for speeding, but as I looked down, I saw that she had raised her skirt, lowered her panties to mid thigh, and was rubbing the head of the dildo against her pussy. She was totally oblivious to me, had leaned the seat back a bit, and was truly enjoying herself. I could feel my own penis beginning to harden. I finally found my voice.

"Young lady,” I told her, “that is totally inexcusable behavior."

She looked up and grinned.

"Why? Are you gay?"

I couldn't help but smile.

"No, of course I'm not gay."

"Then I don't see why this is inexcusable behavior,” she replied, still rubbing the toy against her female.

"I'm trying to make a point here,” I told her.

"You made your point,” she countered, and then moaned as the head of the dildo slid between her lips, “now give me the damn ticket so I can get home and play with my new toy."

I could see her wetness on the plastic playmate as she moved it in and out, and when I didn't give her the speeding ticket right away, she unfastened a couple of the buttons on her blouse and began to caress her breasts. My dick was getting so hard that it felt as if someone had shoved one of those orange traffic cones in my pants.

"Young lady,” I scolded, “I cannot condone this kind of behavior."

She looked up at me and smiled.

"Then turn your head."

I could see her erect nipples between her fingers and they looked like hard, pink pencil erasers.

"You cannot do this in public,” I reprimanded.

"I'm not in public,” she calmly replied, “I'm in the privacy of my own car. You, on the other hand, are the one standing out there for everyone to see with a hard-on the size of a baseball bat. If anyone is being obscene, it's you."

I had had enough of her smart mouth as well as her indecent behavior.

"That's it,” I told her, opening her car door and pointing to my own vehicle, “Go get in the back seat of my car right now."

She looked a little shocked.

"Are … are you arresting me?"

"No,” I said as I took her arm and lifted her up, “but you are going to be punished for your conduct."

Once I had us both settled in the back seat, I began to scold her for her actions.

"You can't just lift your skirt and expect to get out of a speeding ticket."

"I wasn't trying to get out of the ticket,” she argued, “I was just having a little fun. You know, just being a little naughty."

"Yes, you were being naughty,” I told her, “and do you know what young ladies get when they are naughty?"

She giggled.

"Sent to their room without dinner?"

"No."

"They get their allowance taken away?"

"No."

She saw the look on my face and sobered.

"They … they get spanked?"

I nodded my head.

"They certainly do."

A look of fear came over her face. It looked as if I was, at last, getting through to her.

"But … but I'm a grown woman. Grown women don't get spanked."

"Oh, I beg to differ with you, my dear,” I replied as I took her by the arm and gently pulled her over my lap, “Grown women get spanked all the time."

I finally felt as if I was in charge of the situation.

I laid several hard-handed swats to her skirt-covered bottom and watched as she squirmed over my knees. She was a small woman, so it wasn't hard to keep her in place, and I secretly had a feeling that she liked it.

"Now, for being twenty-seven miles over the speed limit,” I told her as I continued to smack her rear, “you will get twenty-seven spanks on top of your skirt, twenty-seven on top of your panties, and twenty-seven on your bare bottom."

"Bare?!” she screeched, “No, please not bare!"

"You didn't have any trouble lifting your skirt, pulling down your panties and showing me your bare pussy,” I said, “why should it bother you to have me see your bare bottom?"

"I … I wanted to do that,” she stumbled over her words, “I don't want to do this."

"Too bad, you should have thought about that before."

I proceeded to give her twenty-seven swats on her skirt, then raised her skirt and continued to do the same on her panties, but when it came to take her panties down, she quickly reached back to try and stop me.

"Please,” she quivered and beginning to cry, “I promise I won't speed anymore and I promise I won't be indecent in public anymore. Please … please … don't spank me bare."

"You should have thought about that when you started it all,” I said, “now, I have to finish with the punishment."

I lowered her panties to mid thigh and gave her the twenty-seven swats on her bare bottom that I had promised her. She kicked and squirmed the whole time, begging me to stop, which of course, I had no intention of doing. I spanked, watching her naked ass becoming more and more red under my hand, enjoying the control I had over her and the embarrassment I was causing her. When I finally stopped, she laid quietly over my lap with no attempt to cover herself. She finally lifted her head and looked at me.

"Do I still have to get a speeding ticket?” she asked.

I couldn't help but smile to myself.

"No, I think you've paid the price."

She got up off my lap and sat on the seat beside me.

"May I give you a hug for not giving me a ticket and for giving me the spanking I deserved?"

I thought about it for a second. I didn't think a hug would hurt anything.

"Yes, you may."

She leaned across me, then put her arms around my neck and her head on my shoulder.

"Thank you, Officer Robbins,” she whispered.

I put one arm around her to hold her close, and with the other arm, I circled her hips, my hand coming to rest on her bottom. It was warm to the touch and I swore I could feel her push her hips back to push more of her bottom in my hand. My fingers moved down the sweet burrow dividing her ass cheeks and came to rest against her feminine lips. She purred softly against my shoulder.

"My cunt is so wet,” she whispered.

This was something that I already knew. Her juices were coating my fingers.

"Would you finger fuck me?” she breathed.

I pulled her back from me and looked into her sapphire eyes.

"Young lady,” I asked, “have you ever had a black man finger fuck you before?"

She shook her head.

"No sir, but I want it. Please, I want it.” She kissed me softly and I could feel the need on her lips. “Please."

I kissed her back.

"Very well."

I gently bent her back over my lap, lifted her skirt, and took her panties off. Her bottom was still quite red and stinging, but now the warmth of the spanking had moved down to her pussy. Her juices practically dripped from her arousal and it took all I had not to ram my face between her thighs.

Her pink pussy lips parted as I entered her wetness with my long, dark finger, and I felt her wiggling and opening to my caress.

"Like that?” I asked her.

"More,” she pleaded, “two fingers."

I shoved another digit in and she groaned in compliance. The harder I thrust, the louder she moaned, and it was apparent that she was about to come. I decided to help her out.

As my right hand was busy inducing her orgasm, I slid the middle finger of my left hand between the cheeks of her bottom and entered her ass with the tip of it. Her reaction was immediate and I began to feel her pussy convulsing on my hand.

"Ohhhh!!! Yeeessss!!! Fuuuccckkk mmmmeeeeee!!!” she screamed.

She moaned loud and long as the climax overtook her body, and it was only when I could feel her settling back down that I took my fingers out of her.

She rested over my lap for a moment, and then began to sit up. I smiled as I saw that her hair was disheveled and her cheeks were pink. Now they matched the cheeks of her bottom.

"I've never come that hard in my life,” she breathed, then grinned and straddle my lap to look down at me, “What time does your shift end?"

I smiled, cupped her ass in my hands, and squeezed affectionately.

"In about an hour."

"Could I tempt you into a homemade meal at my place tonight?” she asked.

"And what's for dinner?” I chuckled.

She giggled and wiggled her pussy on my erection.

"Dark meat."

THE REAL STORY OF LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD

Good evening, folks. My name is Thomas … Thomas Albert Wolf to be exact, no relation to the famous writer. I'm the wolf you read about in the story of Little Red Riding Hood when you were a child. Well, I'm here to tell the real story of what happened, the honest to goodness truth, and trust me, folks, it isn't pretty.

You see, “Red", or Little Red Riding Hood as you know her, was just a cheap, slutty golddigger. She didn't come through the forest on her way to her Grandma's house. Oh no, dear friends. She was out peddling her goods, and I don't mean handmade pot holders. They say in the story that she was carrying food in the picnic basket through the woods to her sick Grandma. Well, there was no food in that basket, unless it was edible panties. It was mostly dildoes, butt plugs, and bondage implements. Yes sir, Red was out that day to snag herself a man.

I met Red when I was on my way home from giving blood at the local hospital. I was a bit dazed and weak after my donation, so the nurse had given me a sedative to help me get some rest.

As I walked through the forest towards my home, I saw this woman-child leaning up against a tree. She was wearing a short red skirt, with high-heeled sandals, and a midriff-showing red hooded sweater, and definitely looked out of place in the forest. I thought she might be lost, so in my dazzled state, I asked her if I could help her. She smiled. Her smile was breathtaking.

"Hello, wolfie,” she said, “want to have a little fun tonight?"

"Well, I'm not feeling very well,” I admitted, “I just thought you were lost."

"Oh no,” she replied, “you're not feeling well? Maybe I could help you feel better."

I could see little ringlets of auburn hair coming out from under the hooded sweater and over her shoulders.

"Are you a nurse?” I asked.

She put her thumbs in the waistband of her skirt and lowered it just a little so that I could see her belly button. There, pierced into her pale skin, was a small beet-colored cross.

"See? Red Cross. You've heard of them, haven't you?"

"Yes, they do good work."

She giggled.

"Well, I guess you could call me their traveling aide."

The sedative was starting to take effect and I was getting a bit woozy.

"That's very nice of you, Miss … uh … Miss…"

"Just call me Red,” she replied.

"Nice to meet you, Red,” I told her, “I'm Thomas."

"Thomas Wolf. Nice name."

"No relation to the writer,” I inserted.

She looked puzzled.

"What writer?” she asked.

I smiled and just shook my head. The man must have had twenty books in print and she had never heard of him.

"Never mind."

Her face cleared and she smiled again.

"So? Would you like for me to help you get home?"

I thought about it, but didn't want to start any talk in the forest. You know how rumors get started.

"That's very kind of you,” I told her, “but I wouldn't want to be a burden."

"No burden,” she said, “I was just hanging out here by the tree, nothing to do. I may even have something in my basket that would make you feel better."

I glanced down at the basket at her feet. My hope was that she had some hot homemade chicken noodle soup in there.

"Well, thank you, Red,” I accepted, “that would be very kind of you. I just live around this bend in the brick house."

"Brick house? I thought wolves lived in caves and logs and stuff like that."

"Well, I did until this kind little pig and his two brothers sold the house to me so they could buy a condo in Florida."

"That wouldn't be the Three Little Pigs, would it?"

"Yes. Have you heard of them?"

"Yeah, that middle brother, Peter, got some and didn't pay for it."

I was feeling lightheaded.

"Got some?"

She giggled.

"Never mind."

She put her arm around my waist and began walking with me towards my house.

"Come on, honey,” she said sweetly, “let Little Red Riding Hood take good care of you."

I smiled at her.

"You are so very kind."

* * * *

As she tucked me into my bed, she pulled the covers up close to my face, and as she leaned over, I couldn't help but notice her ample breasts straining against the material. She caught me looking and smiled.

"Like them?” she asked.

"I … I'm so embarrassed,” I stuttered, “they were right in my face and I couldn't help…"

She stopped me.

"Maybe you'd like to see them close up."

She unbuttoned the sweater and pulled it open. Her perfectly formed, perfectly sized bosom fell out in front of my eyes. Her large nipples were as pink as the carnations we had passed on our walk down the forest path and they stuck out like brand new pencil erasers.

"Red…” I began.

"Shhh … suck,” she whispered.

I took a deep breath.

"Please leave."

Her eyes widened.

"What?"

I took another deep breath.

"Please leave."

Her eyes became moist.

"Leave?"

"Please,” I continued weakly, “I could not take advantage, and I'm really not feeling well."

She leaned down into my face and sneered.

"You haven't begun to feel bad."

The drugs took over at that moment and I blacked out.

* * * *

It was several hours later when I woke up. Upon opening my weary eyes, I saw a person's form rummaging through my dresser. It took me a few blinks of my eyes to finally realize that it was Red. I cleared my throat of the grogginess and cobwebs, and attempted to speak.

"What are you doing?” I asked.

She turned to face me and smiled.

"Looking for money, jewels, you know, something of value,” she confessed.

I thought her confession of pilfering through my private quarters was a bit brazen, given the fact that I was a six-foot wolf and she was a five-foot human, but I quickly realized why she had such a calm exterior. As I began to rise from the bed, I found that I was shackled to the bedposts by handcuffs.

"What are you doing?!” I shouted, now quite in control of my senses, “Why am I cuffed to the bed?!"

"Now, wolfie,” she cooed, “how would I be able to steal from you if you were running around loose? Just relax. I'll be finished soon."

"You harlot!” I yelled at her. “How dare you come into my home, posing as this Good Samaritan, and then steal my belongings from me!"

"Careful, wolfie,” she chuckled, “I wouldn't be calling someone names in your condition, if I were you."

"What condition?” I huffed.

"Your naked condition."

I looked down in horror. She had taken my pants and underwear off (yes, 21st century wolves wear clothing), had stroked me to erection while I slept, and then had placed some sort of black elastic band around my genitals to keep it sustained. I was hard and couldn't even will it to go down. She picked up a knife and began to walk towards me.

"And now since I think I've everything I want from the house, I'll take a little piece of you."

My face went pale and I began digging my heels into the mattress in my attempt to try to move up the bed to get away from her.

"No! No! Please!” I screamed, “Take what you want from the house, but please don't take that!"

She laughed and put down the knife.

"Relax, wolfie,” she told me, “I'm going to take what I want, but you'll enjoy it as much as I do."

She got on the bed with me, then unbuttoned her sweater again and stuck her breasts in my face.

"Suck them,” she ordered cruelly, “and if you bite my titties, I swear I'll use that knife on you."

I wrapped my lips around my nipple and began nursing them, moving from one to the other as I did when I was a cub and would nuzzle my mother. It wasn't totally unpleasant, but I just wanted this over with, to be uncuffed, and for her to be out of my house.

I felt her move from my face, and when I opened my eyes, I saw her taking off her skirt.

"What are you doing?” I asked, “Put your skirt back on."

"Oh no, wolfie,” she replied, “I can't pass up such a perfectly hard dick. This big dick needs to be fucked."

"It is not a ‘dick',” I arrogantly corrected her, “it is a penis and I don't do that F word. When I am involved with a young lady, we make love."

She laughed. It was a cruel laugh that sent shivers up my spine.

"Well, wolfie,” she responded, “tonight this is a dick and you are going to get fucked, not made love to."

She squatted over my erection and slammed down on it with her body. It went directly into her vagina without missing a beat. Her juices saturated me and we both screamed.

"Oh yeah!” she squealed as she bucked naked me, “Ride ’em cowgirl! Whoo hoo!"

"Oh yes,” I groaned, “Ride me."

She grabbed a handful of fur at the back of my head and tilted my head back, kissing me deeply and swirling her tongue inside my mouth so that I would gently suck on it. She moved up and down in a furious rocking motion, now taking my erection fully inside her wet flesh. She was relentless, never stopping or slowing her rhythmical dance, and groan after groan began to leave my throat with no way of me stopping it. My legs were trembling again, like two uncontainable and unruly children, and even though my mind was willing them to settle down, they would not be controlled. The feeling of her pussy wrapped around my cock was an erotic and astonishing combination. I strained against the cuffs.

"Oohh … god … you're driving me crazy,” I breathed.

"Tell me that you love my pussy fucking you,” she said.

"I love … you … making … making love to me,” I muttered.

"Say it!” she shrieked, “You love my pussy fucking you!"

"I love … your … your pussy … fuck … fucking me,” I repeated, my breath now coming out in short, labored gasps.

I would have said or done anything she wanted me to at that moment, even that I would let Satan bend me over in the middle of Grand Central Station, pull my pants and underwear down around my ankles, stick his thick 13” long dick between my butt cheeks and fuck me up the ass with it, if only she would let me come. She knew I was getting near the breaking point. My fingers were digging into the bedposts.

"Come for me,” she demanded.

"Oohh … yes … yes,” I whimpered, “Don't stop … oh my god … oohh … please don't … oohh … don't stop."

I knew I sounded like a sniveling, pussy-whipped wuss, but her sweet cunt was so incredibly warm and wet around me that, try as I might, I couldn't hold back. She was playing me as harmonious as a violin and she knew it.

"That's it,” she continued, coaxing me firmly, “that's a good boy, wolfie … do it … come for me … fuck me … explode in my pussy."

"Please…” I moaned, my voice now coming out in short whines.

"Please what, wolfie?” she teased, enjoying her control, tightening her vaginal muscles again. It felt as if there was a velvet vise enveloping my dick and I could feel a bit of drool on my chin from all my panting.

"Ooohh … pl … ease … fu … ck me … pl … ease … le … let … me … c … come."

My words were no longer intelligible … they were mere syllables with low moans behind them. I had never experienced such a maddening, yet phenomenal mixture of pleasure and pain. She tightened her cunt around my cock and the orgasm that followed was the hardest I had ever experienced in my life. I threw my head back and groaned loud and long, gripping the bedposts with all my might.

Semen blasted from my testicles with a force that could have launched the next space shuttle, leaving me panting and fighting for breath. Red's pussy milked every last drop of cum out of me and then I felt her rise off of me, leaving my dick drooping like a pair of 90 year old tits.

I opened my eyes as she was packing up my valuables in a pillowcase and starting to walk out the door.

"Pl … please,” I whined, “don't leave me like this."

She looked back over her shoulder at me, smoothed her skirt down over her hips, and smiled.

"Don't worry, wolfie,” she told me, “the key to the handcuffs is under the pillow. It may take you a few minutes to get yourself uncuffed, but I'm sure you can do it.” She gave me a military salute. “Thanks for the goodies."

And with that she was gone.

I had to smile and shake my head. I knew that no one would ever believe the real story of Little Red Riding Hood, so I would just let the fable stay as it was.

[Back to Table of Contents]

MOMMY, MY DEAREST

The tension had been building for several months. In the beginning, we were online acquaintances that chatted and eventually sent each other a picture of ourselves. I instantly fell in love with her beautiful eyes, short dark hair, and infectious smile. Then we decided to talk on the telephone and I fell in love with her gentle voice. She was soft spoken and kind, but I knew from our chats that she would not be so kind if you riled her. She was a divorced mother of two boys, now grown and gone with families of their own, and we had shared many stories of how she had brought them up under a strict hand. I was secretly envious of her sons, not only for their ability to be close to her, but knowing she had been their only disciplinarian.

I had been the only child of a loving mother and father, but have to admit I had been spoiled and pampered by them. Discipline in their household where I grew up was a reduction in my allowance, of which I had no use for anyway. I craved the punishments that I would hear my friends tell me that they had gotten for their misbehavior, but my parents were of the mindset to “spare the rod and spoil the child". They were also of the 1960's “flower child” generation and didn't believe in striking anyone in anger.

Alana loved making me do things that I knew I shouldn't do but couldn't resist doing for her. I went into work one Saturday afternoon to try and catch up on some paper work, but as I sat at my desk and fumbled through file folders, I couldn't stop thinking about her, so decided to give her a quick call.

"It's so nice to hear your voice, Daniel,” she said when she realized it was me.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything,” I said quickly.

"No, not at all, just doing a bit of house cleaning and laundry. What are you up to today?"

"I came in to work to do some paper work,” I told her, “but I can't seem to concentrate on it."

"Why is that?” she asked.

I blushed. I knew there was almost 20 years between us but she was the most beautiful older woman I had ever known.

"Because I was thinking about you."

"And what happens when you think of me?” she asked.

The blush on my face got a deeper red.

"I get hard."

She chuckled to herself.

"Are you touching yourself, Daniel?"

I loved the way she called me by real name instead of the stupid nicknames my immature friends made out of it.

"Yes ma'am. A little. Just through my shorts."

"I want you to do something for me."

"Okay. Anything."

"Unfasten your shorts and pull them down to your knees."

A short gasp escaped my throat.

"Right here? Right now? In my office?"

"Yes. Right there. Right now. In your office."

"What if someone comes in?"

"Then you should get up and lock your door, shouldn't you?"

"Yes ma'am."

I quickly got up to lock the door and then returned to my chair and my phone call with her.

"It's locked."

"Then do as I asked you to do."

I blushed again.

"Yes ma'am."

I unfastened, unzipped, and pulled the shorts to my knees.

"They're down."

"And what are you wearing under them?” she asked.

"Boxers."

"I want you to pull the boxers down."

I gasped again.

"But ma'am,” I said, lowering my voice as if someone else could hear me,” then I'll be bare from the waist down."

"Yes, I know that, Daniel. Now do as you were told."

"Yes ma'am."

I quickly looked around to make sure no one could see me, then put my thumbs in my waistband and slid the boxers down to meet the shorts. The leather of the chair was cold on my bare skin.

"They're down."

I could feel her smile through the telephone line.

"Do you feel like a naughty boy when you do things like this for me?” she asked.

"Yes ma'am, very naughty."

"Do you know what happens to naughty boys?” she asked.

I could feel the muscles in my body tense up. I knew exactly what she was about to say.

"No ma'am."

"Naughty boys get their bare bottoms spanked,” she said as-a-matter-of-factly.

"They do?"

"Yes, they do."

"But ma'am, I'm a grown man. I'm twenty-five years old. I'm too old for a spanking."

"No, you are not too old,” she clarified.

"May I ask how you would spank me if you were here right now?” I asked.

"If I was there right now,” she said, “I would make you stand up from your seat, I would sit down, I would put you over my knee, and I would give you a long, hard bare bottom spanking just like I did to my sons when they would misbehave."

I felt a tingle go through my body and I swear I could feel her breath on the back of my neck.

"Would you stop if I started to cry?” I asked.

"No, I would not. I wouldn't stop until your bottom was the shade of red that I wanted it to be."

I couldn't resist. I couldn't hold back. I wrapped my fingers around my naked cock. A moan escaped my lips.

"What are you doing there, Daniel?” she asked.

"Please don't be mad,” I whimpered, “but I had to touch myself."

I heard her sigh.

"What am I going to do with you?"

I chuckled.

"Blister my bottom?"

She laughed.

"Among other things."

I stroked as she told me how, after catching one of her sons smoking when he was a young teen, she had made him come to her bedroom and lectured him on the evils of cigarettes. She said it wouldn't have been so bad until he started back talking to her and she began to get madder and madder.

"What did you do then?” I urged as I continued to caress.

"Well,” she said, “he had on a pair of elastic waist sweat pants, so I jerked them down, whirled him around so that he was bending over the end of my bed, and I began swatting the daylights out of him.” She stopped and giggled. “He never expected that, so I had gotten several good swats in before he even realized what happened. I think being bare bottom in front of his mother at that age was better discipline than the spanking. Much more embarrassing."

The story was too much for me and my orgasm erupted, the cum flowing out of the head of my cock and over my hand. As much as I tried, I couldn't keep the moan from coming out and being overheard by Alana.

"Daniel?"

"Yes … yes ma'am?"

"What just happened there?"

"I … um … I came. I'm sorry. I couldn't help it."

She chuckled.

"I know."

I was taken by surprise.

"You're not mad?"

"No, I'm not mad. I know young men get aroused easily."

"Thank you, ma'am,” I sighed my relief.

* * * *

As Alana and I got closer, our desire to meet increased. I felt like I knew every thing there was to know about her; from the color of her eyes to the first pet she had as a child. I told her everything about myself, not wanting to keep any thing from her. I had never wanted to be this close to anyone, not even girls my own age, and actually meeting in the flesh was the next step.

We decided to get together at a public shopping center at a popular coffee shop. I got there an hour ahead of time and made several trips to the men's room to check my hair and pop a breath mint, and was never really satisfied with a stray lock that kept falling down on my forehead.

I recognized her when she walked in the door. She was beautiful … poised … graceful … every thing a young man would want in an older woman. She had fluid curves, softened and rounded by time, and not sickeningly stick thin like most of the girls that I knew tried to be. She was dressed in a silk blouse, black skirt, high heels and stockings as if she were going to work, so I assumed our meeting was going to be a short one. I stood up and when she saw me, she smiled and walked straight to my table.

"Good morning, Daniel,” she said.

"Good morning, ma'am,” I replied, my heart beating so fast that I was sure that she could hear the thumping.

"I hope you didn't have to wait long."

"No ma'am, not long at all. May I get you some coffee?"

"Yes, please. Just a small decaf with one sweetener."

"I'll be right back with it."

I ordered myself a hot chocolate and came back to the table with the two cups.

"You're even prettier in person than you are in your pictures,” I told her.

She smiled.

"Thank you, sweetheart, that's very kind of you to say."

We chatted over our drinks for a while and then I asked her if she was going to work afterwards.

"No, I took the whole day off."

I was surprised.

"Oh, okay. You looked as if you were going to work."

She smiled.

"Well, if you will remember back a few weeks, you asked me to wear what I wear to work if we ever met. So now we are meeting and this is what I wear to work."

I chuckled. It was coming back to me then.

"I had a brain flicker, I guess."

"Or a testosterone surge,” she giggled.

I blushed.

"Could have been that too."

I gulped some of my hot chocolate.

"Alana,” I asked, “would you tell me the story of when you caught your youngest son and his friend skipping school?"

She laughed.

"Daniel, I've told you that story a hundred times."

"I know, but that was typing it or over the phone. Would you tell me in person now?"

She nodded her head and took a sip of coffee.

"He was in the tenth grade,” she began, “and thought he was grown. He was, in fact, much taller than me, but still had an adolescent mind. Anyway, I came home from work in the middle of the day and found he and his friend at our house playing video games. They were supposed to be in school."

"What did you do?” I asked, knowing full well what she did but wanting to hear the story again.

"I must have screamed, yelled, and scolded for half an hour,” she replied with a little laugh to herself, “and then I thought ‘this is going in one ear and out the other. These boys aren't even listening to me', so I took matters into my own hands and gave them both a spanking."

"How did you get boys that old to submit to a spanking?” I questioned.

"Well, I told the other young man that if he did not consent to a spanking, that I would call his parents and tell them what he had done. He was pretty worried that his father would take away his privileges and make him quit the football team."

"What about your own son?"

"I told him that I would turn him into the truant officer and he would probably have to do time in juvenile detention."

"Wow. Would you have really done it?"

"I'm not sure. I didn't think that far ahead. I just knew I needed to get control of the situation."

I squirmed in my seat.

"Go on with the story, please."

"Well, to make a long story short,” she continued, “I bent both the boys over my lap, one at a time of course, pulled their shorts and underwear down and blistered their naked bottoms with one of my wooden kitchen spoons."

"So they got spanked in front of each other?"

"Yes, they did."

"Did they ever skip school again?"

"Never."

"Did they ever bring up their spankings again?"

She chuckled.

"The other boy came to me a couple of years after they graduated, gave me a hug, and told me that me the spanking I gave him when he was a teenager probably was the best thing that could have happened to him. He's now a successful lawyer."

We caught up on some current events that were going on in our lives and then I finally had to ask the critical question.

"Did you drive your van today?"

"Yes I did."

I couldn't help twitching a little in my seat. She had told me how, when her sons were young, she had had a van, and if they acted up in a public place, she would promptly take that child to the back seat of the van and give him a bare bottom spanking. It didn't happen many times, she had told me, but just the mere thought of it made me tingle with jealousy. She drove a mini-van these days, no longer in need for a big van and carrying a carload of boys to baseball games.

"Daniel, why did you ask about my van?” she asked.

I bit my bottom lip.

"Do you remember telling me how you would spank your sons in the back seat if they misbehaved in public?"

"Yes."

I looked down and toyed with the spoon.

"Well, I was thinking that maybe we could sit in the back seat and talk some more."

A smile curled at the left side of her lips.

"Is talking all you want to do?"

I swallowed hard and nodded my head.

"Yes ma'am. I don't know if I have the nerve for anything more."

She reached in her handbag and pulled out a set of keys, then handed them to me.

"It's the blue and silver mini van at the end of the parking lot."

* * * *

Sitting next to her in the back seat of her van made me feel like I was ten years old again. I looked at her hands; small and delicate, and tried to picture them when they would be as hard as leather. I took a deep breath and asked the question that was on my mind.

"Ma'am?"

"Yes, Daniel?"

"May I lean over your lap, you know, fully clothed, just to see how it feels?"

She smiled.

"Yes, you may."

She slid over to the middle of the bench seat so that I had enough room on both sides of her lap. I hesitated at first.

"You can see if someone comes up, can't you?"

"Yes, I can see."

I gathered my nerve and eased myself over her knees. The warmth of her thighs came through the material of her skirt and I could feel it against my stomach. The position was embarrassing, especially for a man of my age, but at the same time, it was exciting and arousing. I felt her hands resting on the seat of my jeans. I felt my cock hardening. I knew she could feel it too.

"Ma'am?"

"Yes, Daniel?"

"Would you hand spank the seat of my jeans?"

"Yes I will."

I began feeling her hand swats on rump. It didn't hurt, but then, I did have the denim material between her hand and my skin.

"Ma'am?"

"Yes, Daniel?"

"Did you bring your hairbrush?"

"Yes, it's in my purse."

"Would you use your hairbrush on the seat of my jeans?"

"Yes I will."

I heard her unzip her handbag and then I felt a bit of a sting as she began smacking my tush with the brush. It didn't hurt, but then, I did have the denim material between her hairbrush and my skin.

"Ma'am?"

"Yes, Daniel?"

I was almost too embarrassed to ask.

"May I pull my pants down and have you hand spank the seat of my boxers?"

"Yes you may."

I sat up, then reached for the button and zipper of my pants, and slid them down to my knees. I blushed as I realized she was watching me, knowing she could see my erection standing up in my boxers.

"Over my knees, Daniel,” she told me.

"Yes ma'am."

I gathered my nerve and eased myself over her lap again. The warmth of her thighs came through the material of her skirt and I could feel it against my stomach. The position was so embarrassing, especially for a man of my age, but at the same time, it was exciting and arousing. I felt her hands pushing my jeans a little further down my legs and then resting them on the seat of my boxers. My cock hardened more. I knew she could feel it. I began feeling her hand swats on fanny. It didn't hurt too bad, but then, I did have the cotton material between her hand and my skin.

"Ma'am?"

"Yes, Daniel?"

"Would you use your hairbrush on the seat of my boxers?"

"Yes I will."

I felt a bit more of a sting as she began smacking my tush with the brush. It didn't hurt all that bad, but then, I did have the cotton material between her hairbrush and my skin. I began to want more.

"Ma'am?"

"Yes, Daniel?"

I swallowed what felt like a log in my throat and looked over my left shoulder at her.

"Would you take down my boxers and spank my bare bottom?"

"Are you sure, Daniel?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Have you been a naughty boy?"

My dick hardened every time she called me a naughty boy. It was beginning to feel like a tree limb.

"Yes ma'am. I've been a naughty boy. I've been very naughty and I need to be punished."

"And does this naughty boy need his bare bottom spanked?"

"Yes ma'am. I need it. I need it bad."

"And you know that I'm not going to stop until I'm good and ready, don't you?"

"Yes ma'am. I know you're not going to stop even if I beg and plead for you to."

"That's right, Daniel. Now are you prepared for your spanking and the consequences?"

"Yes ma'am."

"And you know that I won't stop spanking your bare bottom even if someone walks up and looks in the van, don't you?"

I swallowed again.

"Yes ma'am. If they look in, they will see me getting my bare bottom spanked."

"That's right."

"I want it, ma'am. Please. I want it."

Without further announcement, I felt her fingers slip into the waistband of my Bugs Bunny boxers and slide them down my legs to meet my jeans. I felt the color of my face turn from pink to crimson and I knew that the color of my bottom would soon match.

The first smack of her hand on my ass came suddenly and when she had delivered a couple dozen, she picked up the hairbrush and continued. The next dozen were followed with her scolding and reprimand of my behavior. I cringed, accepting her swats with yelps, apologies, admissions of guilt, and requests for forgiveness. My skin quickly began to sting and I bucked on her lap. My ass was on fire.

"Mommy, please!” I screeched.

"This is what you wanted, young man,” she reminded me.

"I'll be a good boy, Mommy! I promise! I'll be a good boy!” I whimpered.

"Yes, you will certainly be a good boy when I'm finished with you."

As I squirmed on her lap, I could feel her skirt riding up her thighs. I could also feel my cock hard between her thighs. I was embarrassed that I was so hard … embarrassed that it aroused me so much to have my bottom so red and stinging. I couldn't help it.

With my hands on the floorboard to brace and balance myself over her lap, I had no defense against her attack from the rear. She raised the brush and brought it down hard, the sound of it striking my skin echoing in the vehicle.

SMACK!

"Ow! Please, Mommy! I'll be a good boy!"

SMACK!

This time, the strike came down on the other side. Again I reacted with pleas of mercy. Over and over, again and again, she continued the barrage until I finally attempted to protect myself by reaching my right arm around to block the blows.

She grabbed my right wrist with her left hand and pinned it at the small of my back. I was helpless and resigned myself to the onslaught. After a couple dozen more smacks of the brush, she stopped and rubbed my stinging red bottom. I was quietly whimpering.

"Now, can you be a good boy?” she asked.

I choked back a sniffle.

"Yes ma'am."

"You may sit up now."

I began to push myself up off her lap and was not at all ashamed when she saw my erection. As I looked down, I could see that my squirming had pushed her skirt to the top of her thighs and I saw the tops of her stockings. I suddenly grabbed her in my arms and began kissing her. She neither fought me nor pushed me away.

"Are you wearing panties, ma'am?” I whispered against her lips.

"No,” she murmured back.

The movement was quick and deliberate. Grabbing her by the waist, I pulled her over my lap so that she was straddling my thighs and facing me. She gasped, apparently taken by surprise, but didn't push herself off. I held her face in my hands and continued to kiss her.

"I want you so bad,” I breathed.

"Daniel, this is wrong,” she said.

"No, it's not wrong. I want you. I want you so bad."

"But our age difference,” she muttered.

I couldn't get enough of her soft lips.

"I don't care about the age difference."

I pushed my hips up and made her feel my penis against her pussy lips. She gasped again.

"Daniel, please,” she whimpered.

She was wet. I could feel it. I knew she wanted it as much as I did.

"Please put my cock inside your pussy,” I begged.

"I haven't done this in a long long time."

"You need it,” I told her. “I need it. I've never wanted a woman so badly in my life as I do right now."

I moved one hand to her waist to hold her tightly to me and with the other hand, I held her ass cheek in my palm. Her bottom was firm and rounded, as the rest of her body was, and I gave it a little smack as I continued to kiss her. She jumped and then purred against my lips.

"Fuck me … please ma'am … fuck me. I need to be inside you."

Moving her hand between her legs, I felt her fingers around the head of my cock and then felt them directing it to the entrance of her pussy. As she moved her fingers out of the way, I pushed up and entered her.

Her hands went to my shoulders to hold on as I gently took her tongue into my mouth and slowly caressed it. Soft moans escaped both our throats the moment my shaft entered her and her moist heat surrounded me. She pressed for more, taking me as my hand on her waist moved to the base of her spine, holding her close. I opened my mouth and took a sharp breath as I felt how much of my cock she was taking.

She began to rock back and forth on my thighs, my cock sliding out only a bit, only to be taken back, going deeper each time. I felt her hips rhythmically ride, the rest of her almost still on me except for her hands on my shoulders. I placed both my hands on the cheeks of her ass, squeezing them gently and guiding her to longer strokes. As we rocked together, I heard her breathing become more ragged, and the juices inside her soft pussy flowing around my cock and down over my balls.

She pressed deeper and leaned back, taking me further. I buried my face at the base of her neck and my balls strained to keep from coming. I opened her blouse and breathed my moans into her chest as my mouth found her breasts, surrounding my lips with warm, feminine flesh. We continued to quicken our moves until we found a pace that we both knew would send us spiraling over the edge.

"Daniel, I'm coming,” she breathed into my ear.

Her orgasm was fast and hard and mine was seconds behind hers. I filled her with my cum and felt hers coating my cock as she bucked and thrashed on my thighs. I moaned into her breasts, the climax probably the hardest one I'd ever had, partly driven by the heat on my recently spanked ass as well.

She rested against me until we could both catch our breaths, and then she sat up and smiled.

"That felt wonderful."

I grinned, still panting a bit.

"Ma'am?"

"Yes, Daniel?"

I knew it might be too much to ask, but I was going to ask it anyway.

"My lease is up on my apartment next month,” I told her, “would you have any objections to me moving into your apartment complex? I'd love to be closer to you."

She smiled again.

"I would love that, Daniel."

I grinned.

"Do you think you could change my misbehaving ways if you spanked me more often?"

"Oh yes, I think I could,” she giggled, “but even if I couldn't, we would have a lot of fun trying."

I laughed and hugged her tightly.

"I can hardly wait!"

THE IMAGINARY LOVER

He came to me at night … almost every night … waiting patiently in the muted hours of darkness until I was prepared to take him. Even though he was my imaginary lover and only existed with the help of my mind and my toys, I could see him clearly … the red at the end of his cigarette as he stood in the moonlight outside my bedroom window, the evening breeze blowing gently through his hair, knowing that very soon I would be calling his name … needing him … thirsting for his caresses.

He lingered until the dinner dishes were done and the children were tucked in their beds. He loitered uncomplainingly, waiting for me to let the cat out and for the husband to fall asleep on the sofa while watching the late news, as he did most every night. His patience was unrivaled as he waited until my body was primed to take him and my mentality was eager for the fantasy of him.

It had become my favorite time of the day, when, unlike the rest of my day that was sorted and pre-organized as to what the world wished me to do, this time became my own. I could take him as I wished, as gentle as his feather-light kisses on my moist skin, or as rough as his perpetually relentless cock thrashing into me. In the darkness of my bedroom, I could have any fantasy I wanted, and I knew he would be there to give me what I needed. Sometimes I didn't know how I would take him until he actually came to me. Tonight was one of those nights.

"Ramone,” I whispered as I reached into my nightstand drawer and took out my imaginary lover, this night in the form of my vibrating dildo, “Come make me feel good. I need you."

"I am here, che'rie,” he responded as I lifted him to my body.

I reclined on the bed and kissed the top of his soft molded head. He was the perfect penis, patterned to look like some big name adult movie star's cock, right down to the blue veins, flawless shaped head and wrinkled balls. A small, attached box held a battery that would make him pulsate.

"The children are in bed and my husband is asleep."

"You are in need of my company?” he asked.

"Yes, very much so."

"You make a monk of me, my sweet,” he said, “It has been so long since you had need of me."

"It's only been two nights,” I replied. “I've just been too tired. I'm sorry."

"No need for apologizes, my love,” he whispered. “I am here for you now. Let me please you."

"I'm not sure what fantasy I want tonight."

"Take off your nightgown and let me see your naked breasts,” he told me, “perhaps then you will be able to decide."

I laid him on the bed momentarily and pulled my nightie over my head. Lifting him in my hands again, I kissed his head.

"Mmm … very beautiful, che'rie,” he hummed, “now turn my vibrator on low and rub me over your titties."

"They're called breasts,” I corrected him.

"No,” he refused, correcting me, “tonight, they are titties."

I moved him as he willed me to, easing him quietly over my breasts, listening as he hummed around my nipples, making them harder. He massaged my large nubs and watched as they tightened into pink pencil erasers. He smiled, looking pleased with himself.

"Now, my sweet,” he continued, “take off your pretty panties."

I blushed.

"But then you'll be able to see everything."

"Yes I will, my love,” he reminded me, “and I will be able to feel and touch everything as well as see it."

I bit my lower lip.

"Everything?"

"Yes,” he said, “everything … your clit, your cunt, your ass."

"No!” I said quickly.

"Yes,” he responded calmly, “tonight you need for me to make love to you everywhere. Tonight, I will massage your clit and I will fuck your cunt and you will orgasm on me and you will love it. Tonight, you need to be my slut."

"You talk so dirty to me, Ramone,” I whispered shyly.

"It is because you need me to be this way, my sweet. My words are your thoughts,” he whispered back. “With me, you are neither the wife, nor the mother, nor the caretaker, nor the cook. With me, you are only a lover and I respond only as you need for me to. Now, take off your panties and show me that sweet cunt that I have fucked so many times before."

I again laid him on the bed so I could remove my panties, and again I kissed his head when I lifted him. I could feel him smile.

"You have such a pretty little slit,” he breathed as he looked at it. “Put me close to your sweet clit and let me smell it."

I eased him between my swelling pussy lips until he was almost in reach of my puffy little nub. He sniffed at it as if I were a bitch in heat and hummed his approval.

"Mmm … I love the delicate fragrance of a woman when she is aroused,” he whispered. “Turn on my vibrator and let me taste it."

I flipped the switch and heard the motor purring.

"You know I come so quickly when you lick me there,” I told him.

"When I lick you where?” he provoked.

"Between my legs."

"You have to say the words,” he teased, still not yet touching me. “I want you to be my naughty slut tonight and say the words."

"My vagina,” I murmured.

"That's not good enough, che'rie."

His closeness was killing me. I could actually feel the vibration from an inch away.

"My pussy,” I said a little louder.

"That is still not good enough."

My body was starting to twitch. I needed to come so badly.

"My cunt!” I screamed at him as I took his head in my hands and buried it in between my thighs, “Lick my cunt, you little bastard!"

My body began to convulse with the orgasm the moment his vibrating head touched my clit and I had to turn my face to the side, biting into the pillow in the attempt to not scream out. It felt like a thousand little tongues on my swollen button and my juices flowed over his talented little head.

I lay quiet for a minute afterwards, waiting for the ceiling fan to cool the perspiration that had formed between my breasts. He began to want more and nudged me.

"Are you all right, my love?” he whispered.

"Yes, Ramone, I'm fine."

He nudged me again, touching one of my puffy lips.

"I am hard for you, my sweet."

"Give me just a moment to cool down."

"Very well, che'rie,” he responded, “I will just nestle here between your thighs to keep warm."

I felt him moving in between my pussy lips.

"That's not my thighs, Ramone."

"My head is damp from your juices,” he replied. “I'm just going to put my head inside you to keep warm until you are ready for more."

He pressed in a little more and I began to moan.

"See, my love,” he continued. “It feels so good. Your sweet cunt wants me there."

"N … No,” I stammered, “I want to cool off."

"It is you that is pushing me inside, my sweet,” he informed me, “If you want me to stop, all you have to do is take your hand away."

My fingers pressed him deeper and a groan escaped my throat.

"Tell me what you want,” he provoked again.

This time, I could not take the teasing and shoved him in as deeply into my pussy as I could get him. His plastic balls hit my ass.

"Fuck my cunt,” I hissed, “Make me come."

"Oh yes, my love,” he said as he began to jack-hammer the pink wet folds, “I will fuck your sweet cunt with pleasure."

He moved in and out in a continuous thrusting motion, now shoving his rigid hard-on fully inside my wet flesh. He was relentless, never stopping or slowing, and groan after groan began to leave my throat. I could feel him smile. He began pounding my pussy and the reaction was immediate. I could hardly get my breath and my head was spiraling. I loved being his dirty little slut.

"Stroke your clit while I fuck your cunt,” he whispered, “I want to feel you come all around me."

The fingers of my left hand went to my swollen little button as Ramone shoved himself all the way up inside me, and the orgasm that followed was the hardest I had ever experienced in my life. I threw my head back and moaned, praying that I had not been heard outside the room.

The eruption left me exhausted and breathless and I let my hands fall to my sides. Ramone stayed inside me for a moment then began to slip out with each contraction of my pubic muscles. At long last, his cock head emerged from my body and he lay quietly between my thighs.

"Che'rie?” he whispered.

"Yes, Ramone?"

"I'm cold."

I smiled and reached between my legs to pick him up.

"Lick your juices off of me, please,” he begged.

I began to suck, tasting my cum on his shiny little body. He purred softly as I cleaned him with my tongue.

"Che'rie?” he whispered again.

"Yes, Ramone?"

"May I sleep with you tonight instead of going back into the nightstand drawer?

I smiled.

"If you promise to behave and let me get some sleep."

He wiggled happily in my hands and came to rest between my shoulder and the pillow.

"Since you are the one that controls what I do, my love,” he said quietly as he snuggled against my neck, “it will be totally up to you."

A dreamy smile crossed my face. I had a feeling I was in for an all-nighter.

SEDUCING MRS. SIMMONS

I loved working outdoors. I loved everything about it … the sun, the fresh air, watching the things I plant grow, flourish, and make their surroundings more beautiful. Being outdoors kept me in good physical shape too and the lonely, neglected wives in the ritzy neighborhoods I sometimes worked in seemed to appreciate it.

It was like that as I worked in the backyard of Mrs. Simmons's house. I had worked for Mrs. Simmons before and had caught her checking out my biceps and my ass. She had tried to be inconspicuous, but hey, the ladies know a nice hunk of man when they see one.

Mrs. Simmons was a blonde bombshell; built like a brick icehouse, with the most incredible set of C-cups you had ever seen, not to mention that fine, round ass. She looked good whether she was coming towards you or walking away.

As I put down some new sod in the corners of the privacy fenced-in area by the swimming pool, Mrs. Simmons came out on the deck. When I looked up, I thought my eyes would have a coronary. There she was, this astonishing beautiful woman, dressed in one of the skimpiest yellow and white string bikinis I had ever seen. She looked over her sunglasses and waved at me, her boobies jiggling under the two-inch triangle material of her top.

"Hi Jimmy,” she called out, “the yard is looking real nice."

"Thanks, Mrs. Simmons,” I replied and doing my best to keep my dick from jumping up to say hi too, “all in a day's work."

"I'm going to make some lemonade. Would you like some?"

"Yeah, that'd be great. Thanks, Mrs. Simmons."

She went back inside through the glass door and I watched her fine ass sway from left to right with every step. Watching her walk was just like watching a Barbie doll come to life. She returned a few minutes later with a pitcher and two glasses of ice and put them on the patio table.

"Come get it before the ice melts,” she called out.

I stood up from my kneeling position on the ground and looked her over again. Damn, that bitch was gorgeous. I was almost afraid to get too close, thinking that the heat from that body might make my dick melt. She was pouring the glasses as I washed my hands off under the garden hose and then walked up to the table.

"I hope you don't mind me being a bit dirty,” I said.

"Nonsense,” she replied, “everything here is washable.” She smiled and then exhaled a breathy “and I mean everything."

I sat down in a folding chair under the umbrella table and took a few big gulps of my drink. She sat on the chaise lounge chair across from me and sipped hers, her eyes roaming over me carefully.

"Are you hungry, Jimmy?” she asked. “Can I fix you something to eat?"

"No ma'am, I'm fine, thank you,” I replied. “I was just getting a little thirsty, that's all."

"Well, you are doing a fine job in the yard,” she told me. “You always make my yard look so pretty."

I watched her mouth as she talked. Her lips were so full and wide that she could probably get them around a foot long horse dick.

"I'm glad you're pleased, ma'am. It's something I enjoy doing."

I could hardly take my eyes off her tits. She had one of those deep well-types of cleavages, so deep you could put a cup of coffee in there to keep the coffee warm and still have room to heat a pop tart.

She finished her drink and put the glass on the table.

"I wonder if I might ask a favor of you,” she began.

"Let me guess,” I teased her, knowing how many times she had changed her mind about the yard, “you decided against the tulips in the corners and want to go back to the roses."

She giggled.

"No, I'd like to stay with the tulips."

"Okay, so what else can I do for you, Mrs. Simmons?” I asked.

She picked up a bottle of sun tan lotion from the small table beside the lounge chair.

"Would you mind rubbing some sun tan lotion on my back?” she asked, holding the bottle out to me. “It's terribly hard to get to it by myself and I don't want an uneven tan."

I swallowed hard, feeling my Adam's apple rise and fall in my throat.

"But … uh … your husband,” I began to stammer.

"He won't be home until dark,” she said with a smile.

Without waiting for an answer, she plopped the bottle in my hands and turned over on her stomach, leaving me with little choice. I moved over to her chaise, sitting on the edge of it, and nervously popped the top of the bottle. Squirting some lotion in my hand, I rubbed them together and then began to rub the cream on her shoulders and upper back.

"You know,” she said, looking back over her shoulder and giving me a little grin, “I do hate tan lines. Would you mind unfastening my top so I can take it off, Jimmy?"

Would I mind? WOULD I MIND?! Was she crazy? I would pay to unfasten her top! I'd tear it off with my teeth, if she'd let me!

I felt my hands beginning to sweat a little and quickly wiped them on my tank top. She looked over her shoulder again and I realized she was waiting for an answer.

"No ma'am,” I said, doing my best to keep my voice under control, “I don't mind at all."

She settled back down on the chaise and folded her hands up under her face. I could see the sides of her incredible tits smashed against the material.

With shaky hands, I pulled the ties that held the top onto her neck and back and let them fall to the sides. If she lifted up at all, her tits would be in plain view.

Going back to my task, I continued spreading the lotion over her now bared back and then down to the top of the bikini bottoms. Being that close to her incredible ass was making my dick strain against my jeans. She felt me stop and looked back.

"Is something wrong, Jimmy?” she asked innocently.

"No ma … ma'am,” I stammered as I resumed applying lotion to the sides of her hips and back of her thighs.

"Mmm … that feels nice,” she said, spreading her legs a little bit and arching her back so that her fine tush was even closer to my face. I couldn't take it anymore. I was beginning to feel like Dustin Hoffman's character opposite Ann Bancroft's character in the movie ‘The Graduate'.

"M … Mrs. Simmons?” I murmured.

"Yes, Jimmy?"

"Um … are you trying to seduce me?"

I saw a slight smile cross her lips.

"Now, Jimmy, would I do that to you?” she asked with mock innocence.

I took a deep breath. It was now or never.

"Yes, ma'am, I think that you would."

She turned over and sat up and her big, bare, juicy tits were right in my face. I felt my eyes cross.

"Well, you know that my husband works a lot,” she began.

"Yes ma'am, I know."

My dick was turning into a tree branch.

"And you're such an attractive man, Jimmy,” she said, putting her hands on my shoulders and pulling herself up to me.

Her face was inches away from mine. I looked down. Her titties were so close that I could count the freckles on them. At the ends of her boobies were the most monumental, succulent pink nipples I had ever seen.

"You know you want to touch them, Jimmy,” she said, a smile crossing her face as she saw me looking at them.

"I shouldn't, ma'am."

"But you want to,” she reminded me, moving her hand over the front of my jeans and rubbing her fingers against my crotch.

"But your husband,” I began.

"We won't tell him."

I moved my hand up to hold one of her tits and wrapped my fingers around it, giving it a little squeeze. She closed her eyes and moaned and I felt her nipple harden in my palm. Reaching for my other hand, she moved it between her legs and rubbed my fingers through the material of her swimsuit bottom.

"Mrs. Simmons, you're being a naughty little slut,” I told her.

She leaned forward and kissed me on the lips.

"Yes I am, Jimmy."

Her hand began stroking my dick.

"Little sluts need to be spanked,” I told her.

"Oh yes, they do, Jimmy."

She was sitting on the chaise beside me. She looked so delicious with her blond hair in disarray and her large breasts shaking with anticipation. Her nipples were erect, seeming permanently excited, and I could see the arousal beginning to dampen her swimsuit bottom.

"Bend over my lap, Mrs. Simmons."

"Yes, Jimmy."

She eased herself over my lap.

Mrs. Simmons's back was the most graceful back I have ever beheld. Even over my knee, she seemed to hold a perfect posture. Between her legs and her back were rounded hips and a firm bottom covered by her tiny swimsuit. It seemed it was just begging to be spanked.

I raised my hand and gave Mrs. Simmons a good hard swat on her right buttock. It bounced. It wasn't so much her buttocks, which were very firm, but rather a shudder. I gave her several more, alternating right and left, and she yelped each time that my hand swatted her ass.

"Ow! Ouch! Ow! Oooh, yeeeees!” she squealed, “That's it … Owee! Owee! Yes, I need it!"

"Stand up, Mrs. Simmons,” I said, pausing for a moment. “I'm going to pull your swimsuit down."

"Oh, yes,” she replied. “Spank my bare bottom."

She stood and waited patiently while I tugged her bottoms down to the top of her thighs.

"I think you'd better get the hairbrush,” I told her, motioning to the one she had left on the patio table.

She groaned, so I gave her a little slap on her bare bottom. She hurried over to the table, looking so pretty with her naked ass glowing bright pink and her bottoms hanging just below it.

"Give me the hairbrush and bend back over my knee, Mrs. Simmons."

She bent over and placed her hands on the patio floor, making her bottom very round. Her big breasts were pointed downwards, their nipples like tight pink pencil erasers. I set out to give her a dozen swats with the hairbrush and watched as she kicked and squirmed with every swat.

Finally I could stand it no longer. I dropped the hairbrush and grabbed her ass.

"Little sluts like to be fucked,” I said.

My dick was getting harder, so she took it out of my jeans, then stared down at it and smiled. A drop of pre-cum oozed out the slit.

"Yes they do, Jimmy."

She wrapped her hand around my dick and began stroking it. I groaned.

"I want you to fuck me, Jimmy."

If she didn't stop, I was going to shoot all over her tits.

"Out here in the yard, Mrs. Simmons?"

"Yes, Jimmy,” she said, “Out here."

I stood up and stripped out of my clothes, then reached down and took her swimsuit bottom completely off, revealing the sweetest pussy east of the Mississippi. Her shaved cunt lips glistened with wetness and she laid back to spread her legs wide.

"Fuck me, Jimmy."

I quickly spread her legs and got in between them, holding her shapely calves in my hands. I raised her feet to my shoulders and kissed her ankles as I touched her pussy lips with the head of my cock.

"Jimmy, stop teasing me,” she whined.

I pulled her right foot to my mouth and nibbled on her toes, taking each one in my mouth and sucking on it. She huffed, loving what I was doing, but wanting to feel my cock. I could feel her pushing her hips up to grab my dick. Her moves made a little more of my cock head go into her pussy. I took her little toe out of my mouth, licked her red painted toenail, and pushed a little more of my stiff shaft into her.

"Damn it, Jimmy,” she said impetuously, “would you please…"

"Would I please what, Mrs. Simmons?” I asked, smiling at her impatience.

Then I entered her a little more.

"Please do this?” I asked.

She moaned and wiggled her pussy on my cock. I gave her a little more. I could feel the heat of her hot spanked ass all the way to my balls.

"And this?"

I made her come with just the tip of my dick against her clit. Then I made her come with my cock buried deep inside her, ramming it into her like a goddamn freight train while her long legs were wrapped around my hips. She bucked under me like a fucking stallion, squealing and screaming like I was beating her ass, but hell, if she didn't care if the neighbors heard, neither did I. Her pussy gripped my dick like a size four girdle on a size fourteen ass, and I went off like a cannon.

We collapsed together in the chaise lounge after about a half hour of serious screwing, my dick still buried in her cunt, my head resting on one of her soft tits, her nipple in my ear. After a few minutes, she began to chuckle, jarring me a little on her chest. I lifted my head.

"What's so funny, Mrs. Simmons?” I asked.

"You, Mr. Simmons,” she replied with a smile, “Don't you ever get tired of playing this lawn keeper/lonely housewife scene?"

I grinned.

"Not if it gets you to wear that little bikini that I love so much, sweetheart,” I told her, the grin still not leaving my face, “and it gets me inside your sweet pussy."

I propped my head up between her breasts and she squeezed my ass cheeks affectionately in her hands.

"I tell you what,” I continued, still grinning, “next time, we can play the strict uncle/naughty niece scene. I know you like that one."

BARBECUING

"Lorraine!"

"Yes, honey?"

"What do you think you are doing?"

"Well, let's see. I'm standing on the patio in front of the barbecue grill with tongs in my hand and steaks on the fire. Hmm … looks like I'm barbecuing."

"Like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like that! Naked!"

"Sam, I'm just barbecuing, not flashing the neighbors. We have a privacy fence around the yard. No one can see me."

"But you're going to burn your tits!"

"Don't you think I could feel it if my tits were too close to the heat?"

"But Lorraine, those gorgeous tits, you know how much I love them."

"I'm not going to burn my tits, Sam."

"You could melt your nipples!"

"Nipples don't melt."

"And that pretty pussy. Don't tell me that hair doesn't burn!"

"I'll be careful."

"I love the way your pussy feels in my mouth."

"Sam?"

"Yes, honey?"

"The front of your shorts is rising. Why are you getting hard?"

"Well, because you're standing there naked, Lorraine."

"Looking at me naked makes your dick hard?"

"Always."

"Always?"

"Yeah."

"Lemme see."

"See? All nice and hard for you."

"Oh yes, it is. And if I touch it like this…"

"Oh … yeah. Don't stop."

"Well, I don't know, Sam. I mean, I really should get back to the steaks."

"Oh please, don't stop!"

"You don't want me to burn the steaks, do you?"

"Turn off the grill! I'll eat ’em raw!"

"So you like it when I do this?"

"Yeah, baby, yeah."

"Right here? Is that where you want it?"

"Ooohhh! Ummmpphhh!"

"I'll take that as a yes."

"Uh huh … uh huh … uh huh!"

"Well, maybe I could stroke just a wee bit more…"

"Oh yeah! That's it! Stroke! Stroke! Stroke!"

"Sam, it sounds as if you're coaching me for a swim team match."

"Let me just get out of these shorts and…"

"Sam, why are you backing me up?"

"Patio table."

"Oh my! I don't remember you ever lifting me up on the patio table before."

"Now, I'll show you the real white meat, baby!"

"Oh show me, Sam! Show me!"

"There you go, baby. Get that leg over my shoulder!"

"Sam, my leg doesn't bend like that."

"Sorry."

"Sam, what about the neighbors?"

"They aren't invited to the barbecue."

"They might hear us!"

"We'll tell ’em the TV was turned up too loud. That's it, baby, nice and open like that. Show me that sweet dessert tray."

"Oh Sam! You're so hard!"

"As hard as the bone in that T-bone steak, baby!"

"Oh, get it in there, big boy!"

"Oh yeah, look how drenched you are. You'd better not get too close to the grill … you'll put the flame out with that sweet, wet pussy."

"Ohohoh … Sam … don't stop doing that with your finger."

"Mmm … what a nice rump roast you got, baby."

"Oh yes … go deeper."

"I dunno, baby. It feels like a choice cut in there, but it may have gotten a bit burned."

"Deeper, Sam, deeper."

"It's pretty hot. You probably touched the grill and didn't realize it."

"Sam, if you stop right now, I'm going to cut off your dick and shove it up your ass!"

"Yep, feels pretty charred. I don't know if I should put my cock in there or not. It might melt."

"It won't melt! I promise!"

"See your little clit? It's all pink and swollen. I think you may have scorched it."

"I didn't scorch it! Honest!"

"Lorraine, you're getting a bit loud. What about the neighbors?"

"Fuck the neighbors! Oh, please, Sam, put your dick in me!"

"Lorraine, I've never seen you wrap your legs around my waist so fast."

"Nowwwwww!"

"Right here? Is that where you want it?"

"Ooohhh! Ummmpphhh!"

"I'll take that as a yes."

"Uh huh … uh huh … uh huh!"

"You like it when I go in and out like that, baby?"

"Ummm hmmm."

"Lorraine, what about the barbecue?"

"I've got all the hot meat I want right here!"

Content

Victoria Manley
Her Next Victim and Other Stories