My First Day As a Pro Domme byMustangKathi©

The building was on 31st Street near Fifth Avenue, a short walk from the Empire State Building. This was a thoroughly unremarkable commercial district, home to import/export businesses, wholesale clothing, numerous print shops and a couple of electrical repair shops. I checked the directory, and found "HC" on the fourth floor. I rang the buzzer, and walked in.

There was no doorman — just a narrow hallway leading to a single elevator. It was old, the kind where you to pull back a folding gate after the electronic door had opened. I got in and pushed the button.

At the fourth floor, the door opened to reveal an attractive, light-skinned black woman dressed in a corset. I opened the folding gate.

"Hi, I'm Dahlia," said the woman. "Come on in."

My name is Kathi. I had graduated from college two years ago, and was splitting my time between playing in punk bands (much fun, no money) and working at Babeland, a sex toy store owned and run by women (some fun, some money) in the Lower East Side. I wasn't ready for a 9-to-5 job, but I could use some more cash, and a friend in another band mentioned that she used to enjoy working as a dominatrix. I had some experience with BDSM — I got my first pair of handcuffs in high school, and I loved to get a good spanking, so I thought this might work.

I checked the want ads in the Village Voice, and found that Rebecca's Hidden Chamber was hiring. I called the number, and made an appointment for an interview.

Dahlia led me to the back and offered me a seat on a couch.

"This will be your first time domming?" she asked.

"Yes," I said.

"Cool. Here's what we do," she said. "We open at 11:00, and we close at midnight. You can make your own hours, but we ask that you put in at least twenty hours a week. At first, there's a lot of waiting around, and you can read or get on the computer or whatever. When a guy calls up, I answer and describe who's working. For you, I'd say you're a young Asian girl ...."

"Korean," I said.

"Let's go with Asian; it sells better. A young Asian girl with a beautiful ass and a kinky disposition. Something like that. After a while, you should develop some regulars, so you can fill your schedule accordingly. You should be able to get three regulars in an eight hour shift, plus one walk-in."

"We offer three kinds of sessions. The standard one involves no touching at all — basically flogging, paddling, caning — stuff like that. Then then there's "physical," which involves some touching — cock & ball torture, slapping, tickling. And "medical," which is anything anal.

"The rates are $150/$180/$210. You collect the money at the beginning of the session and give it to me. At the end of your shift, I'll cash you out — 50% of what you bring in. You should make $300 - $400 a shift, plus tips."

"There is no sex of any kind. No blow jobs, no hand jobs and no fucking. The client will jerk himself off, but you can't do it for him. Now let me show you the rooms."

We walked back down the hallway to the front of the building.

"This is the blue room."

Inside was a couch, what I learned was a St. Andrew cross, and small, four-poster bed with numerous hooks on the side for tying things down. On the wall was a large mirror.

"Underneath the bed are some gym mats which you can unfold and use if you're playing on the floor. Big toys are on that rack over there ..."

I turned to find a collection of whips, rods, canes, ropes and handcuffs.

"Small toys are in the cabinet."

She opened a drawer to reveal dildos, butt plugs, nipple clamps, rawhide laces and KY jelly.

"In the closet are cleaning supplies — Lysol, bleach solution, paper toweling. Plus wee-wee pads for piss play, and Wet Ones. Also condoms and latex gloves. Always use the gloves whenever you're dealing with bodily fluids, and when you clean up. We don't want you catching something."

"Across the hall is the red room," she said, leading the way.

It was a little smaller, still with a four-poster, but with no cross. Instead, suspension gear gear hung from the ceiling.

"The rule of thumb is no more than twenty minutes in suspension. Got to keep the blood circulating. And tell the client to let you know if they experience any numbness or tingling. If they do, you need to release them."

"Still game?" she asked.


I nodded my head.

"OK. Some house rules. You don't have to see any client you don't want to, and you don't have to do anything to a client you don't want to. You draw the line. If a client gets aggressive, or you have any kind of problem, just scream. There will always be at least one other person here —- you'll never work alone. Now, let's go to the back and have you try on some clothes."

The back of the floor was a combination kitchen, office, waiting area and costume room. Hanging from the wall were cop uniforms, nurse uniforms, lab coats, a stewardess' dress, and a whole bunch of corsets.

"Let's try this one," Dahlia said, handing me me a corset and stockings. "And you'll need to invest in some nice panties or g-strings. And a pair of heels."

"Where do I change?" I asked.


"Here," said Dahlia. "You're going to see a lot of naked bodies from now on."

I took off my shirt and slipped out of my jeans. I unhooked my bra, and put in on the table next to me. Dahlia eyed me up and down.

"Nice," she said. "You've got cute tits, and your ass is great. I think the guys are going to like you."

I put on the corset and stockings, and checked myself out in the mirror. I looked pretty good! Not menacing exactly, but definitely sexy. And the corset did make my breasts look bigger.

"That's great. You can switch back now," she said. "When you come back, you should try on some other stuff, and see what you like. One last thing — we'll need a name for you. Do you have one picked out?"

"I was thinking of Leah."

"That'll work."

I changed back into my street clothes, and Dahlia gave me my schedule for the week. I took the elevator back to the ground floor, where I found a nervous-looking man waiting in the vestibule. I said "hi," but he wouldn't make eye contact with me. He stepped into the elevator and pushed a button. I started to walk away, but then stopped to see where he was getting off.

Fourth floor. I wondered what kind of session he was going to get.

My first shift was the next Tuesday, from 4:00 to midnight. When I called Dahlia to confirm, she told me that to start, I'd be sitting in for part of a session with Peter and Gia, a tall Japanese domme, and then I'd be on my own.

I showed up to work with my heels and g-string, and put on the corset I'd tried on earlier. In the back were Gia, Dahlia and a couple of the other dommes — Elena, a cute redhead, Haley, a tall blonde and Kira, a busty black girl. I read a book until I heard the door buzzer ring at 5:00.

"That's Peter. Gia and Leah, you're up," said Dahlia.

We met him at the door, and let him to the red room.


"Leah is new here, and I'd like her to sit in on part of the session," said Gia. "Is that OK with you."

"Sure," said Peter. "No problem."

"Thanks," I said. "We have you down for a medical session, so that's $210, please."

He reached into his front pocket, then handed me the money.

"Great," I said. "There are hangers behind the door. Make yourself comfortable, and we'll be back in a minute."

This was to weed out cops. If the guy didn't get naked, he couldn't have a session. We were just supposed to excuse ourselves, get them their money, and ask them to leave.

After a couple of minutes, we knocked and went back in. Peter was nude, sitting on the couch, smoking a cigarette. That's the first time it hit time — I was going to be a sex worker. I didn't think that was bad, and I was very open to new experiences. I'd studied human sexuality in college, and I worked in a sex toy shop, but this was the first time for me to deal with naked strangers as a job.

Peter was tall, blond and good-looking — definitely not creepy. So far, so good.

"Peter, can you tell us what you're expecting to do in your session with Mistress Gia?" I asked.

"I really like being suspended. And I like CBT. Maybe a little flogging, and then finish up with Gia fingering my asshole while I jerk off," he said. "And spitting. I love being spat on."

"I think we can do that," said Gia. "Why don't you stand up?"

Gia went to the cabinet and pulled out a rawhide lace.

"So, Leah, what you want to do is make a loop around the cock and balls, and then another loop around just the balls, and then you come back down the middle to separate the balls, and then make a knot — tight, but not too tight."

When she'd finished, Peter had an erection, and his balls stretched the skin of his scrotum. I'm a lesbian, but I have to admit, I enjoyed the sight.

"Arm's up," said Gia.

Peter raised his arms, and Gia locked his wrists in the cuffs hanging from the suspension bar. Then she went to the crank on the wall, and slowly turned it. The bar moved up, bringing Peter's arms with it. Soon he was standing on the balls of his feet.


"You don't want to go too high," said Gia, "or they won't be able to hold the position. But this should be good. And now he can't go anywhere."

Gia walked over to Peter, and gently stroked his cock.


"Isn't that right, Peter?" she asked.

"Yes, mistress."

Then she slapped his cock and balls. He jumped back in pain.

She reached down and caressed his balls.

"I can bring you pleasure or pain. Isn't that right?"

"Yes, mistress."

She stopped, curled up her index finger, and flicked one of his balls — hard. Peter jumped again, and yelped. Sweat broke out across his bow. But his cock was rock hard, and was turning a red/purple color.

"Leah, why don't you give it shot," said Leah.

I walked over to Peter. I hadn't touched a cock since high school, but I found this appealing. I place my hand on his groin, above but not touching his cock.

"Would you like me to touch your cock, Peter?"

"Yes, please, Mistress Leah."

I gently stroked his cock.

"Thank you, Mistress Leah."

Then I stopped. And with my middle finger, I flicked one of balls as hard as I could.

He screamed, and brought one leg up, in a useless attempt to protect himself. But there was nothing he could do. He was defenseless. This was hot. 

I liked my new job.

"I think we're good for now," said Gia. "Why don't come back for the last five minutes of the session."


"Sounds good," I said.

"And Peter, why don't you thank Mistress Leah for hurting you," said Gia.

He looked me in the eyes.

"Thank you, Mistress Leah, for hurting me."


I flicked his ball again.

"No, Peter, thank you," I said.

I left the room and went back to the waiting area.

"How'd it go?" asked Dahlia.

"Pretty good, I think," I said. "He seems nice, and he seems to be enjoying himself."

"He's one of the good ones," Elena chimed in. "He knows what we wants, he respects boundaries, and he tips. And he's fun."

"Aren't the others?" I asked.

"Some are, some aren't. I've got one regular who just wants to lick my feet while I blow cigarette smoke in his face," Haley said.

"And I've got one who gets nude and reads his poetry to me. Then he jerks off and leaves," said Kira.

"But this is pretty easy money," said Elena, "and the hot sessions make up for the weak ones."

I read my book for another half an hour. Then Dahlia escorted me back to the room.

"When there's ten minutes left, I come by and knock. That gives the client enough time to masturbate," she said.

She knocked loudly, and we walked in. I was not prepared for what I saw.

I expected to see Peter starting to jerk off, and he was. But the suspension cuffs were now on his ankles, and his legs were in the air. Gia was on her knees, fucking his asshole with her fingers.

It was shocking, but it was also cool. Like walking in on a couple fucking.

"I brought back Leah," said Dahlia.

"You're just in time," said Gia. "Peter, would you like to jerk off for the three of us? While I fuck your ass with my hand?"

"Yes, Mistress Gia," he said.

"Peter is an exhibitionist, isn't that right?" Gia asked. "He likes for women to see him naked. He likes for women to watch him cum. Right?"

"Yes, Mistress Gia," he said.

I'm really not attracted to guys, but there was something about the intensity of Peter's pleasure that was turning me on. He was thoroughly and completely into enjoying his sexuality, even if it was a little kinky.

"Mistress Leah? I think Peter needs something to drink," said Gia. "Could you help him with that?"

I remembered now. Peter liked being spat on.

I knelt by his head.

"Open your mouth for me, and stick out your tongue," I said.

I leaned over and spat in his mouth.

"Mistress Dahlia? Care to join in?" asked Gia.

Dahlia knelt on the other side of Peter, and spat in his mouth. The Gia leaned over, and spat all over his face.

I'm not into spit, or at least not being spat on. But this wasn't bad. Peter was getting so turned on, and his pleasure was infectious.

"Are you going to cum for us?" I asked. "Are we going to watch you cum?"

I reached over and started pinching his nipple.

That did it. He raised his hips, and came all over his stomach.

"Nice job, Peter," said Dahlia, leaving.

"Yeah, that was pretty intense," said Gia.

I handed Peter some paper toweling so he could clean himself. I snapped on a pair of latex gloves, collected the dirty toys and brought them back to the kitchen. Gia led Peter to the bathroom so he could wash up. Gia and I wiped down the floggers and the surfaces with Lysol, and then sprayed diluted bleach on them to sanitize them.

Peter came back from his shower, took off his robe and got dressed. Before he left, he tipped Gia forty dollars. Then he tipped me forty dollars, too.

"Thank you," I said. "That was unexpected."

"Leah, why don't you walk Peter to the elevator," Gia asked. "I'll finish in here."

We left the room and walked down the hallway to the elevator. I pushed the call button.

"It was very nice to meet you, Peter," I said, extending my hand.

"And it was very nice to meet you as well," he said. "I think I'd like to book a session with you next week. There was something — something about the look on your face when you walked in. You looked shocked, but there was something more. Like you were enjoying watching the scene."

"I did," I said. "I did enjoy it. And I liked watching you cum."

That was true.


"Very cool," he said. "That makes me happy. So next Tuesday?"

"I'll be here."

"I'll make an appointment.

And that's how I got my first regular. I would have other clients who were better looking or bigger tippers, but Peter would probably have to be hottest. He had no inhibitions, and he gave himself completely to whatever scene he was in.

Peter would make my new job fun.

A Thief In The Night byfrog7©

It was after one in the morning, the thief was about to make her hit, this would be the sixth house that she broke into. It wasn't this neighborhood but the others nearby and word spread quickly of the break-ins.

The house was dark and no car was in the driveway and there was no garage. The thief chucked to herself, "I wonder what goodies lie in this house."

The thief makes her way to the unsuspecting the house. She takes out a crowbar and aims for the window. It took a few minutes but she is able to get the window open. She throws a bag inside and then leaps up and a second later she's in the house.

She makes her way slowly through the house. "Such a treasure trove of goodies."

The thief begins the shopping spree.

Out of nowhere a person appears and their eyes meet. The thief pulls out a knife but the owner of house is quick. He kicks the knife out of her hand and tackles her. The two roll across the floor. She's on top and starts bashing the owner's head but he's able to roll on top of her. She kicks him off and gets up and spots the knife. The owner trips her before she could make a move. She gets up but he gets her in a sleeper hold and after a few minutes of struggling the thief is down for the count.

The female thief regains conscious and finds her arms restrained and her clothes save her black bra and thong removed.

"Struggle all you want you're not getting out, Nina."

The thief known as Nina turns her head to see the man staring at her.

"How do you know my name?"

"Your wallet, I had to indentify who I was dealing with. I thought you were a man at first but imagine my surprise to know that the person responsible for the break-ins is a woman, a very attractive one at that."

"Who are you?" Nina asked while struggling.

"I'm the Owner of this house, whom you wish to steal from that's all you need to know."

Nina continued to struggle.

"You'll only tire yourself out but then again go ahead it'll make things much easier for me."

The Owner approaches her and put his hand on her chin. "So beautiful, nice blond hair, you're mixed aren't you?"

"What if I am?"

"Tell me, please."

"Fine I'm half White half Hispanic, why do you care!?"

"No particular reason." The Owner goes behind her.

"What... what are you gonna do to me?!" Nina said in a panic.

"You stole from others and you attempted to steal from me so I'm gonna steal something of yours!"

The owner starts by removing the black thong Nina was wearing.

"No stop, I know where this is going, you can't do this!"

"Oh you think stealing is just and let's not forget you tried to knife me so that would come out to be gee I don't know MURDER!"

The Owner's hands undid the front clasps of Nina's black bra which causes her tits to bounce on release.

"Please don't!"

"Don't worry about pregnancy I'm stealing your anal cherry!"

"No!"

"It's too late!" The Owner spreads her legs, spits in her asshole and inserts his hard penis in nice and easy. Which his left hand he grab fistful of long blond hair and begins the anal invasion.

"No please ahhhhh!"

The Owner starts increasing his thrusts. "Oh yes, I needed this yes! What luck that you decided to pick my house!"

The Owner kept going. Nina knew this was the biggest mistake of her life, the tears stream from her eyes clearly showed that. There was nothing she could do but hope it would be over soon. He kept thrusting and cheering, pausing slightly but then picking up the paste. He slaps both ass cheeks and continues. "Oh this is it! Oh, oh, oh, here it comes!" With a final thrust he ejaculates into her ass. Nina collapses in the bed. "Oh yes that was good!" He reaches under her and pinches her nipples. She felt no pleasure in any of this, only humiliation.

The Owner gets up, cleans himself up and gets dressed. He soon returns and unties Nina.

He takes by her hand and tells her to put on her shoes but that was it. She still had the bra on but her tits were still exposed. They head outside and walk to the next door neighbor's truck. "My car is currently in the shop and my neighbor is on vacation, he said I could borrow his truck. Where do you live?"

"Huh? You're not gonna turn me into the police?"

"No, just return everyone's stuff and we'll call it even."

The Owner drives until he reaches an apartment complex. He parks in front of her apartment door and once the truck was off his steps out goes to the other side and grabs Nina by the arm. As soon as they were inside he pulls her toward her bedroom. Once inside he threw her face down on her bed. She knew not to resist, he could change his mind about reporting her to the cops. He ties her arms to the bed poles. He took his time looking through her closet. He soon returns and unzipped his pants. He removes the belt and 'SMACK.' Nina lets out scream. He beats her naked ass nine more times. "Naughty thieving bitch!" He anal invades again. He thrust fast and hard. He didn't care if it hurt Nina or not, this was punishment, pleasure for him pain for her.

After he is finished he removes cash and a debit card from Nina's wallet. "I'll be holding on to your debit card till tomorrow night. And I'm taking your phone so you won't get any stupid ideas! You will have dinner prepared for me and you will be wearing a black bra with black thong, stocking with suspenders, high heels, lip stick and nail polish for fingers and toes, all black. I'll also personally supervise you returning everyone's stuff the next night so prepare your ass for that night and as many nights as it may take to return everyone's stuff. I'll be keeping your thong from this night as memento."

The owner untied her and left. He would withdraw all the money out of checking and saving account. There was nothing Nina could do but prepare; she only hoped that she could return everything on the third night.

THE END

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byfrog7© 1 c

Spiritual Sex bystandingstones©

My girlfriend Jen has been trying to get me to go to a spiritual group encounter. I had been putting her off because it just didn't interest me.

"Larry says we both would enjoy it."

Larry is some guy that Jen works with. He has been working on my girlfriend to attend one of these meetings. I guess Jen finally got to me. I was thinking she might break up with me if we didn't attend one of these encounters. One Saturday evening we got in the car and drove out to this desolate location. It was way out in the boondocks and we actually drove by the road into the place.

I turned the car around and we drove down this long driveway. At the end of it was this large barn-like structure. When we got out of the car Larry came out of the building and greeted us. He gave Jen and big hug and he shook my hand.

"I am so glad you made it, you are going to enjoy this," he said.

We walked inside and Larry took us into a small room. He poured us two drinks and then he gave us both robes to put on.

"Drink up and then change into these," he told us.

Frankly I didn't want to wear a white robe, but I did it to make Jen happy. We both drank down a goblet full of I don't know what. I do know it was making my head swim although I couldn't taste any alcohol. We waited a few minutes and then Larry led us out into the main room. In the middle was this large altar. Two sets of steps led to the top. On top of the altar were these large mats.

As I looked around there were people lined up around the altar. Jen and I were certainly the youngest of the bunch. Mostly everyone here was no younger than forty. Most looked to be in their fifties and sixties. I could tell that Jen was getting into the whole thing. She actually seemed giddy. Maybe it was from that drink. Jen was on the petite side with long blonde hair to her shoulders. I saw more than one guy giving her the eye.

Larry then introduced us both and then he walked over and took Jen by the hand. They walked up one set of steps and Larry told Jen to shed her robe. I damn near ran up the those steps and stopped things right then. I knew if I did that Jen would never forgive me so I bit my tongue and held my place. Jen pulled her robe up over her head. Her tits looked magnificent, her nipples were erect.

I saw more than one guy with his mouth open. Larry then had Jen lie down on those mats. He called out a name and this heavy set man began to walk up the steps. When he got to the top of the altar he pulled his robe off. He was naked and he was showing a big beer gut. He also had this enormous cock dangling down. He must have been close to ten inches in length and it was thick as well.

My mind mustn't have been working too quickly. I was totally caught up in what was happening. So was everyone else. I looked across the room and saw this dark haired woman spying me. She looked to be in her forties and was very attractive. The best looking woman there after my Jen. This heavy man got down on his knees and spread Jen's legs apart. I could hardly believe my eyes right then. He got into position and he took hold of his cock.

I and all the others watched as he rubbed that fat mushroom all over Jen's pussy. You could plainly see that my girlfriend was getting into it. She pulled her legs back and the heavy man fitted his cock into place. He began to push into Jen's tiny pussy. Jen let out this blood curdling cry. I almost started to move when I felt Larry's hand on my shoulder.

"Don't do it Tom," he urged me to go back.

I didn't run up the steps. Ultimately Jen would have been pissed at me. I wondered if she even knew what was happening right then. This heavy man with the huge cock took hold of Jen's ankles and brought her legs up. He was pumping his rod into my girlfriend. Jen looked like she was totally out of it. Somehow he managed to push all ten inches into Jen. His cock was completely buried in my girlfriend's small pussy.

The onlookers were getting into it as well. Some were clapping, some were chanting. I looked over to the dark haired woman. She wasn't watching the festivities, she had her eyes on me. I thought she had even used her tongue to lick her lips. My mind was so wasted I lost track of how long this went on. The man fucking Jen finally let out a cry like some wild bull. His body stiffened and he began to cum.

You could almost see his stiff member growing and contracting. He was sending his hot cream deep into Jen's belly. My girlfriend was totally into it. Her face had this look of ecstasy on it. She was squeezing that fat prick of every drop his sticky milk. The fat man finally fell onto Jen and they held each other for some times. Jen's lover pulled out and stood up. Everyone but me cheered. He stood with his half erect prick in sight. All their love juices were dripping onto the floor.

He exited and some women came up on the altar and assisted Jen away. Larry didn't waste a second. He took my by the arm and had me walk up those steps.

"Take your robe off, Tom."

It must have been that drink that Larry gave me. I pulled the white robe off and stood there naked. Everyone was now looking at my nude body. Larry walked down the steps and he went over to the dark haired woman. He walked her up the steps. He didn't have to say a thing to her. She pulled her robe off and threw it to one side. She was shapely, that was for sure. She had big breasts capped with large nipples. Her black bush was shaved down. Larry walked down the steps. The next thing I know this woman is on her knees in front of me.

She took my dick in her hand and brought my cock to her mouth. I just sort of lost it and I put my hand on the back of her head. I really didn't have to urge this woman. She took all my cock down her throat. It was like she had done this many times in the past. She had me deep throated. I can tell you it didn't take much to get hard. She was bobbing up and down and loving every minute of it it seemed.

After a few minutes she pulled away and got onto her back. I just stood there until she motioned for me to come over. Was it the drink? I went over and knelt between her legs. I took my cock and I pushed in the whole way. The crowd that was there went into a frenzy. I was fucking her like some crazy man. My dark haired lover was besides herself.

"Fuck me deep!" She kept crying out to me.

I thought I was inside the whole way. Sex had never been like this with my girlfriend, that much I knew. This was something more primal, more deep. I took this woman and made her mine. I knew no one else was going to have her, only me. I just fed her my cock until I felt my balls pinch. I tried to hold back, but it was no use. I blew one hot load after another into my lover. She used her muscles to take all my love seed from me. I realized this had been the most intense lovemaking I had ever experienced.

After we finished she pulled me down on top of her and we held each other. I soon got soft and I pulled out and stood up. Larry led me away and as I walked back to the room we first entered I looked back to see my dark haired lover. She was up and being attended to. I could see her calling to me.

"Meet outside afterwards."

When I entered the room there sat Jen. She looked like she was in a daze. She had gotten back into her street clothes. I tried to talk to her, but she held her hand up to me.

"Not now," she said.

I would have to wait until we got back to the car. Larry entered and told us both us how great is was that we were part of the group now. I wasn't part of any group, but I held my tongue. I got into my clothes and Jen and I stepped into the night. The sky was now pitch black and the stars were out. My head was still spinning. Just outside stood the dark haired woman. She walked over and placed something in my hand then walked away.

It was a long ride back to our apartment. I told Jen I didn't want to attend anymore.

"Well I don't feel the same as you," she said.

I wanted to scream at her that she was under Larry's spell. It seemed that we were falling apart right then and there. There was tension between us the next few days. Larry had told Jen about the next meeting at the barn. I didn't want to go I told her.

"I am going again," she said to me.

There it was. Either I went along with this business or we were finished. I went back to the bedroom. I got out the scrap of paper given to me by the dark haired woman I fucked.

"I want to see you again, alone."

It was signed "Ellen" and her phone number followed.

This was it, the moment of truth. Should I see Ellen and give up on Jen? It looked like my path was set and there wasn't a thing I could do to change it. I will report back when I have made my decision.

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bystandingstones

The Right Time for a Wrong Turn byTLion63©

Jacob Bard

Coaching the girls swim team had been taking up way too much of Sandra's time lately. The long hours at the aquatic center resulted in no social life, which meant no dates in ...who knows when. This is not what she thought she would be doing at twenty-eight. Years before she had written out her "five year plan" for her life and nowhere did she plan on being single and coaching a swim team. She had thought that after graduating college and spending endless hours in the pool as a team member of the university's swim team she would be far away from where she was now. She thought she would be married or at least in a serious relationship by now.

But, here she was once again, back at the aquatic center, still single, still trying to get her life moving and find a great relationship. Heck, she would just be happy to get laid! Counting up the months in her mind, she realized she had not had sex in nine months—and that time wasn't all that great! One thing was certain, no matter how boring her life might have been she was no less horny—in fact, she felt hornier than ever! And the more she thought about being horny and not having had sex, the hornier she got! Unfortunately, she had no prospects—no options—other than her vibrator waiting for her at home.

At least it was time to lock up and she began her rounds at the aquatic center, turning off lights and locking doors. Lost in thought about how dissatisfied she was with her present circumstances, she was in her own little world. Passing by the men's locker room and shower she noticed light coming from under the door.

"Those guys..." she muttered, ""Why can't they turn anything off? I better check everything. They probably left everything on and running." Annoyed and not thinking anyone else was there, she burst through the door leading from the pool straight to the showers intent on having to take care of one more thing someone had left for her to do.

The door opened with a bang as she shoved it open and it hit the wall! But the shower and locker room was not deserted as she thought! There stood seven members of the boys college swim team completely naked in mid shower! She had thought they were all gone by now. Of course, they whirled around at the loud sound of the door hitting the wall, too startled to think of covering themselves.

"OH...my goodness!" she gasped as she came to a full stop in mid stride, unmoving in her tracks, her eyes quickly fixated on these seven naked guys standing before her. Needless to say, they were surprised by her appearance and she was speechless and frozen by something akin to shock and awkwardness! The only thing that gave a clue that she was still coherent was the embarrassment evident on her face by the blush flooding her cheeks and face.

"I AM SO SORRY!" she finally blurted out. "I didn't know you guys were in here!"

The swim team members stood frozen in shock as well—expecting her to whirl around and dash out faster than she came into the shower area. But she didn't move.

By now it was evident, at least to the guys, that Sandra—"coach"—as everyone referred to her, was taking in every inch of their naked athletic bodies. Several had turned their backs on her and were looking at her over their shoulders. A few had both hands covering over their junk as they waited to see what she was going to do next.

Just then, Alex, one of the seniors on the team, stepped forward and spoke quietly to Sandra, "Are you okay?"

"Huh? Oh...What?" Sandra responded.

"Are you okay?" Alex repeated.

"Oh, yes, yes. I'm okay. Just a little startled. That's all," Sandra explained now becoming aware of what she had just done and feeling really awkward. Only about a minute, maybe two had passed. It all happened quickly, but Sandra now felt as if she had been standing there for an hour.

Just then she saw Alex smiling at her and heard some of the guys chuckle a bit while commenting to one another about what just happened. She was about to withdraw with what little grace she could when she heard Alex say, "You can join us if you want!"

Sandra shot a confused glace back at Alex. "What?"

Repeating what he had just said he reiterated, "I said, you can join us if you want. We won't hurt you. And we sure won't mind! Will we guys?"

The rest of the swim team was now gazing at him as though he had lost his mind, and wondering if they had really heard him say what they thought he said. Now slowly turning their gaze toward "Coach" Sandra, most managed to mutter in chorus, "No, we don't mind."

"No. No. Sorry guys. I didn't mean to barge in on you." Sandra answered them.

Still, she did not move although now she was trying to avert her eyes more and only steal a glance at their bareness from time to time.

"The steam from the showers really makes it hot in here," she observed abruptly. "Well. Better go now," she said.

As she started to turn, Alex stepped forward grasping his erect cock and said, "We'd really like it if you stayed," smiling, as he motioned for her to come toward him.

"I really shouldn't," she whispered.

"It's okay," he responded.

"Are you sure?" she questioned.

Alex only smiled and looking around at the other guys, they all nodded the affirmative in unison.

Sandra may have been a little horny when she walked in, but at that point she was so enticed that she could now feel a wetness between her legs that made her look down to make sure the crotch of her shorts were not wet.

"No one can ever know," she demanded gently.

Shaking their heads to signify they agreed, Alex spoke for the group and said, "We will never say a word!"

Without another word Sandra began removing her clothes piece by piece, first she pulled her t-shirt off and then her shorts. Now she stood before the seven dumbfounded guys in only her white thong panties and her sports bra. As they watched in anticipation she removed her bra and then finally slipped out of her panties. All seven faced her, most slack jawed and in awe, all with solid erections pointing toward her like the needle of a compass points north. Sill silent, she smiled bashfully and slowly waded into their waiting embrace reaching out to greet each one by grasping their waiting cocks one at a time.

Still stunned and amazed at what was happening, the guys just milled around her, brushing up against her and lightly fondling her breasts and ass until she stepped under the spray of the shower and allowed her body to be soaked by the hot water. Standing back now completely mesmerized, slack jawed and stroking their cocks, the seven only watched as Sandra soaped her body. They watched intently as her hands moved in circular motions around her breasts and stomach, sliding back to her buttocks. One whispered audibly to another, "I never thought someone washing their butt could look so, so good." Everyone heard and chuckled, adding a sporadic chorus of "Yeah," in agreement. Sandra only smiled, a little more wickedly now, as she moved her hands around and began washing between her legs which was greeted with a collective, "Aw, man!" It was not clear if she was bathing or masturbating. Sandra just laughed casually as she watched them stroking their cocks.

Thinking to herself, I better not drag this out or they will all shoot their load before I can get...., she almost completed her thought but felt a little slutty thinking, before I can get fucked. But the truth was she was so horny at that moment she felt she had to have a cock in her no matter what!

Having rinsed the soap off, she now turned toward them and stepped out of the spray as once again Alex stepped forward first and she knelt down in front of him instantly taking his stiff manhood straight into her waiting mouth. Before she could stop herself, she had released a soft moaning sound. Her moans echoed in the shower once more as she began sucking Alex as though his cock was delicious and she had been deprived of this feast for far too long! The guys surrounding her were amazed at her lust-filled ravenous appetite for cock, but they were more than happy to provide all she wanted!

Finally opening her eyes and returning to the moment in which she was just lost, she saw a line of cocks to her left, hard and erect as if ready to stand inspection. Was this a dream? Everyone was thinking the same thing. It was no dream in the imaginary sense, but it was a dream that had come true for all involved. Unplanned, unexpected, improbable, but now that it was a reality, it was going to be savored!

Slowly she began working her way down the line, giving each young man his fair share of oral attention, stroking and pumping him as she swallowed and sucked each one as though it would be her last.

A couple of the guys were so stimulated that shortly after Sandra had gone down on them, while pumping their erections and sucking them for only a minute or two, suddenly released their load of cum—Sandra pulling their cock quickly from her mouth as their cum splashed all over her tits. Looking up at them with a smile, they looked down at her in utter disappointment with a tingle and pure pleasure. She knew what they were thinking. She was thinking the same thing. She would not get to feel their stiff erection inside her. I better get to the main event while they're still hard enough to... there it was again, while they're still hard enough to fuck me she screamed in her mind! followed by giving her rationale to herself in her internal debate. I don't care how it sounds, I want them to fuck me! All this was running through her mind as she finished the last few waiting to feel the embrace of her lips and mouth.

The next twenty or thirty minutes is still remembered fondly by all involved and talked about in whispers among themselves and in private gatherings for years to come.

Having finished initiating each with a thorough blowjob they would long remember, Sandra found herself lifted up and laid down on the floor of the shower. At that point she became the recipient of their undying gratitude as they began to pleasure her with all their might. One young man immediately began eating, licking and lapping at her cunt, burying his mouth and face deeply in it at times, sending chills and spasms of pleasure up her body. Hands! Hands were everywhere, stroking her inner thighs, cradling her head gently while a hanging flaccid cock draped itself into her mouth while other hands roamed her body and some squeezed and massaged her tits. It was almost too much pleasure and too many sensations to absorb!

Then the fucking started as one after another took his turn entering her. Some were long, some were shorter but had fatter dicks that found her opening tight. They all felt good to Sandra. It had been so long and she had wanted it—well maybe not this—but wanted a cock in her so badly and now she was going to enjoy every moment. Some slid themselves in gently and smoothly before beginning to thrust themselves into her ready and waiting pussy laid open before them. Some plunged themselves in quickly and aggressively as they pounded her pussy! One boy had such a large scrotum and thrust himself so vigorously that she could feel his balls slapping against her butt with every forward plunge! She must have climaxed at least twice during the first ten minutes! Several of the guys let loose their load of cum inside her before giving way to the next guy— she felt each as their cock pulsated and twitched until empty!

Just when she thought it might end, she felt herself being raised to her feet and then pinned against the shower wall by one of the guys who had ejaculated when she was blowing him—he was hard again and ready for action! Lifting her right leg, she grabbed his waiting pole and aimed it directly at its mark. He did not need any more encouragement, leaned forward, and entered her in one fluid motion sending a wave of yearning for more through her body! There they stood united and moving in unison making an undulating motion with their bodies, each moaning in pleasure as the others watched. Some tried what they saw another do. Some let Sandra direct them.

At one point Sandra found herself astride another of the guys who had cum prematurely riding him cowgirl style with great fervor--to his delight! He just lay there grinning from ear to ear, slowly running his hands up her torso and massaging her breasts while she rocked back and forth in ecstasy. Far too soon, after she had gotten her rhythm going she felt his release as he shot up into her like a geyser spraying its hot liquid upward!

She was running out of erections to milk. Just a few more and this bizarre, but fantastic, fantasy would be over. Although she was exhausted, it was still going to end too soon!

She rode one guy in the reverse cowgirl position facing away from him while grasping the dicks of two of his team members who came and stood in front of her. Using her grip on their dicks like handles to steady herself, leaning forward and sucking them one at a time, alternating from one to another as she rocked. One of them was able to cum again giving her tits one more soaking for the evening.

Alex appeared once again, taking her and leading her to position herself on all-fours. This guy just keeps on going, she thought to herself. Once on her knees she felt him enter her quickly and smoothly. She soon matched his forward thrusts with the backward lunge of her ass. Wow! That feels great! I could fuck this guy all night! she thought. But only moans and muted grunts were audible to anyone else as Alex rode her hard! Climaxing with a loud groan she felt his warm jizz shooting into her and sensed him relax as he eased himself out of her.

The last erection milked, the last stiff cock having been humped to the point of hanging limply down in fatigued ecstasy, she lay fatigued on the floor of the shower, surrounded by the seven young men who just gave her something to remember for a lifetime. Some kneeling. Some standing. All drained, both figuratively and literally! Looking down at her with a look of gratitude and admiration, Alex spoke up, "Well coach, that was some workout!" Laughter broke out and Sandra lay there giggling like a school girl, blushing and clasping her hand over her mouth to quiet herself.

Regaining her composure, she looked up smiling and replied, "Yep guys, I would say you're in excellent shape. As for me, I don't think I can walk!" Laughter once again erupted as the guys slowly began to file out of the shower into the locker-room to get dressed and head back to their dorm rooms.

Alex stayed behind, knelt down beside her, still running his fingers up and down her wet and naked body. As he stared at her, her hand lightly stroked his flaccid cock hanging down between his legs.

"You are amazing," he said softly, "amazing and beautiful."

Smiling and blushing, uncertain of the accuracy of his statement and uncertain of how to feel, she simply replied softly, "Thank you" giving his cock a gentle yank as he stood and she tried to sit up.

"Do you need help?" he asked with a smile in his voice.

"No, no. You can go ahead. I'll be fine. Just need a minute," she assured him.

She heard him say, "Okay," and he was gone.

"Whew! I think I just need to lie here a bit longer," she said talking to herself.

So, lying back staring at the ceiling of the shower room, a big smile broke across her face just as she became aware of the sensation of a stream of cum flowing out of her pussy. Reaching down to confirm, she thinks to herself, Sandra, you're one dirty, freaky girl! The thought is followed with stifled giggles and a deep sigh.

"O, well," she says to herself as she gets up to get dressed. The End

Post Script

Sandra and those same seven swim team members got together a few years after that night for a reunion of sorts, but that's another story.

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My Truck Cherry bybawidgetcoms©

Let me paint a picture for you. I'm five-foot-four, which I adamantly argue is average. I have long, wavy, brown hair with strong hints of red and gold. In the winter when it darkens, I've been told it's "chestnut." My eyes are very green. While I'm average height, I'm above average weight, with curves in all the right places and some of the "wrong" ones! I'm about a size 16, 18 in some stores.

My torso is petite, considerably slimmer than my hips and very short in comparison with my legs, which are quite long. I have smallish hands, fingers, wrists and shoulders, thick thighs, anda rounded, bulbous ass.

My toenails are always painted, usually a bright color. I keep my fingernails painted with clear polish. My legs are shaved, as is my pussy - fully smooth. My breasts are small, just a handful each, well-shaped and fairly high - 38B. I have medium-pink areola and very responsive nipples.

My brows and lashes are black. I wear natural-looking makeup most days, including light lipstick, but I rarely make-up my eyes, though I often curl my lashes. When I remember to, I wear glasses - my favorites are rimless with green-tinted metal in a curvy pattern tucking them behind my ears.

My teeth are almost perfectly straight. My lips are not overly large but full, slightly pouty and naturally pink. My upper lip curves upward, and my nose has an upward tilt. My cheekbones are fairly high. I have a light dusting of freckles across my nose and forehead that you'd only notice from close proximity. My shoulders, however, are noticeably coated in freckles.

Puberty was rough looks-wise. My hair was frizzy, my breasts seemed destined to maintain a triangular shape for life, and my curves were embarrassing. As I grew up, I grew to like my appearance more. I've developed the opinion that a woman of thirty or forty has a beauty about her that a girl of eighteen or twenty has yet to develop. I don't yet look over thirty, according to most, though on days when I'm tired, my age shows more.

I want you to have an image of me, the woman in this story, as I describe the man and our interactions. At the time of this story, he was 19. I am eleven years his senior. Though I rarely saw him fully dressed, I know he usually wore loose jeans with a belt clasped with a hefty, decorative buckle, usually with a buttoned shirt or tee over a "wife beater."

While I have years on him, he has inches on me. He's 6'-6" tall without shoes. His hair is black, wavy and sometimes unruly. He has a soft gotee and mustache surrounding the softest, most delectable mouth I've ever seen on a man. I loved the way his mustache felt when we kissed. His lips are full and pink. His face is long. His eyes are a deep, dark, chocolate brown and turn down at the corners. His lashes are jet black and longer than mine.

He's very slender, almost bony, but still weighs over 200 pounds. His hands are long, his fingers slender, and his feet quite large. He has a trail of hair winding deliciously from his pubic bone up to his chest, where it spreads into a spattering of wiry, black curls. His nipples are small and react quickly to my tongue.

He has narrow hips and a slight ass. His cock, beneath his thick bush of black curls, is thick in girth and long but doesn't look it's size against his tall body. It's a beautiful specimen - veiny with a thick, mushroomed head that makes my mouth water upon seeing it.

And his truck is a red Toyota Tacoma, king cab. I've been in it only two or three times. This short story recalls one of those times.

....

It was getting late. As the sun sank behind the tree line, it seemed like our house became an oven this time of year, trapping the heat. I wanted ice cream, craved a root beer float for some reason, but there was no ice cream or root beer in the house. The stores in the nearest tiny town would close in fifteen or twenty minutes.

I was restless and bored. I felt horny and alive, as if I'd been lit like a match by the summer heat. On a whim, as I headed out the door alone, I decided to send a text to a friend - to "him." I asked what he was doing, and he was about to go grab a late supper with his cousin. That meant he wasn't too busy - I felt confident I could easily derail his plans.

Instead of going to the closest town, I headed for one a little further away, in the other direction, between his house and mine. After a few more texts, he'd bailed on his cousin, grabbed a sandwich and was on his way to meet me instead.

We decided to be daring and parked side-by-side in front of the local high school, away from security lights. I felt turned on and cautious at the same time because I knew half of everyone who worked there during daylight hours.

I stepped out of my little car and hoisted myself up into the passenger seat of his larger truck. The anticipation during our respective drives had created a fever pitch.

As soon as the door shut, his mouth found mine. He reached inside my tiny dress and groped for a breast, pinching my left nipple hard. My tits felt small in his hands, but he exclaimed how much he loved them as he drew my dress over my head and pressed his lips against one then the other, sucking so hard I'd have purple marks to remind me the next day.

I reached for the erection I knew waited for me behind his belt buckle, and he fumbled with it for me in the dark. Soon he deserted his pants and our awkward attempts at intimacy in the front seat. Grabbing my left arm, he pulled my naked body (I'd only been wearing the dress) into the back seat with him. Somehow he shed his pants along the way. The boy was gifted in the removal of clothing.

As soon as he sat, I sat beside him and leaned over his lap to taste his cock. I gathered my hair and indicated he should hold it. I'd never had a man hold my hair while a puked, but many had done me this service while I gave head.

When that position proved too impractical, I dropped to the rough, tan carpet and rug-burned my knees as I enthusiastically swallowed his cock until it pressed against the back of my relaxed throat. I took his full length in and out, giving him a thorough, slobbery blow job. My tongue danced around his shaft while his hips lifted to meet my face. He grabbed my head and fucked my face hard, grunting and groaning as he felt my wet lips siding against his hard cock.

Suddenly he stopped, pushed me gently away and pulled me back up beside him. I heard a school bus coming, probably returning athletes to school from an away game, and I almost panicked. He calmed me. "The windows are tinted, the lights are out.. No one can see you."

He followed that with, "Come here and sit on this hard cock." He scooted lower in the seat and guided my right leg across his lap. I straddled him, barely able to see his face in the dark, except when a second bus passed by. I paused as it passed with his dick barely touching the entrance to my wet, engorged tunnel. He groaned in exaggerated frustration and grabbed my hips, forcing me down onto his erection.

I let out a throaty moan like a proper slut as I felt his thick cock stretch my tiny, tight, soaking wet pussy wide open. Oh, it felt so good to be full of him. He liked to call me his slut, and he did then. He bit my neck below my right ear and hissed, "You're a good little slut, aren't you, baby? Fuck my hard cock, you fucking slut." He followed that with, "You are so fucking sexy," then licked a trail down my neck to my tits.

He began to hump up toward me with urgency, and I met each thrust with vigor of my own. I pushed down hard and pulled back, purposely dragging my wanton, hardened clit through his mass of black hair. The wiry hair stimulated my little nub, and I moaned.

He wrapped his long fingers in my hair and pulled my face to his. His kiss was innocent and eager - no tongues, but lips pressed together, moving against each other in hungry desire. Then our mouths opened together, and we began to nibble. In my passion I bit his lip a tad hard, and her cried out. "Sorry," I whispered. His response was a low, guttural growl.

He grabbed my supple ass with both hands and dragged his short nails across my cheeks, pulling me down onto his cock hard and fast. He always marked me somehow, and his handprints on my ass would be his mark this time. His thrusts became so vigorous that I stopped returning them and instead let him fuck me to oblivion.

I focused on the feeling of intense pleasure I felt when his thick cock slid in and out of my delicate pussy. He nearly popped out, tickling the soft folds at my entrance, and then he plunged deep, hitting my cervix hard, causing me to cry out in ecstasy with a tinge of pain.

Soon I'd be able to take no more and plunge over the cliff to my orgasm. I told him, breathlessly, "I'm going to cum... I'm going to cum!" and he forced me down with a few final jerks before his cock began to shoot stands off thick, hot semen deep into my pussy.

As I felt the spasms of his cock releasing cum into my hungry cunt, I lost all control and ground my clit hard against him as my own orgasm began. We came together, mostly, and my contracting pussy milked his spurting cock.

When the intensity of our mutual orgasm began to subside, I fell against him. Our mixed sweat stuck our bodies together, but soon I broke away. "That was fun!" I grinned at him like a happy child.

He gave my ass a final squeeze. "Yes, it was."

I had to get going. I grabbed my dress and pulled it over my head, gave him a quick peck on the lips and left him there recovering while I drove away to buy... What had I even come to buy?

Oh, right... Root beer and ice cream. As I drove across the small town to the grocery store, I felt his cum leaking out of my pussy. Would it run down my legs in the store? I hoped not... But it would be kind of hot if it did.

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bybawidgetcoms© 1 comments/ 1 views/ 0 favorites

Sha

Cock-Sucker: Sugarfoot & Gilgamesh bytristantrotsky©

This place doesn't look real. It's a Lego model. A replica of a real place. Only with all the life siphoned out of it. A red-brick University out in the sticks. A no-place that doesn't exist. There are two guys here to meet me. One, his beard an act of domestic terrorism. The other grabs my attention more forcefully.

'Hi – WOW! This is totally amazing for me. It's you! It's really YOU! Allen Gilgamesh. Can I just say how much I admire your stuff...? You're like, totally a god to me. Call me Sugarfoot, they all do.'

It's not so much the two pink button-badges he flaunts – 'GLAD TO BE GAY' and 'JESUS LUVZ QUEERZ', more the fact that he's wearing Superman 'y'-fronts over his tight stone-washed pre-stressed jeans. His eyes half-closed and sleepy-looking. They escort me to the English-Lit faculty venue. One on either side of me.

'It's not the big lecture theatre' admits face-foliage apologetically. 'Not enough response. But the annexe is better for the bar, which is good, right?'

'Right.'

He gets me a drink. There's a scattering of people. Some posters. The reading goes fine. Terrorist-beard gives me an over-the-top talk-up which I strive, inadequately to match. I attempt some humour. Try a couple of new poems, which I think are pretty good. It's cool to know nothing. Riff through extracts from recent collections. But they're not really going for it. I know what they want. What they always want. The Rolling Stones got "Satisfaction". I've got "Yell", a poem both trashy and profound at once. Recording meditations and instants snatched from a more radical phase of my life. An evolution of the Gay species, opening with the primal 'Big Bang' detonation and closing with the entropy heat-death of the universe. Of course, the scandal didn't hurt. The high-profile obscenity trial, the defence lawyer calling eminent literary figures to pontificate on the worth of my slim black-and-white 'City Nights' collection. It's my legend. My pot-shot at posterity.

Now I know better how poems should breathe in and out, with iambic phrase-bugs chasing each other. How to adjust and modulate, putting more sound in my voice for emphasis at the correct stress-points. Splashing through couplets like puddles. This is my 'Un chant d'amour'. Experimental...? Naw – leave that to the Large Hadron Collider. And although the words still glister, after so many repetitions they're only words after all, words that mangle out into gobbledegook. That's all. Me – and the Stones, neither of us can get away without doing our greatest hit. Although I can't get no satisfaction from doing "Yell" on auto-pilot yet again. Although I do. Once it meant something. Once it meant a lot. That was a long time ago.

Afterwards, I hang around. To light-finger some books from the stand. A ballpoint pen. A pair of tweezers. Stretching time. Now face-foliage is occupied elsewhere. And I'm sat on a not-very-comfortable plastic chair with my legs crossed and my eyes half-closed, trying to look as though I'm not looking anywhere in particular, as if I'm doing nothing more demanding than... say, waiting for a bus. I mean, what am I actually waiting for? What do I expect to happen? But Sugarfoot zones in.

'Like, WOW man, that was incredible! A total blast. I mean – you, you're like everything I aspire to. You know that...? It's true. You've been a part of everything. You were there at the beginning. You're an integral part of Gay history, man. And I can't believe I'm here with you. WOW, you should know that I'm your greatest fan.'

Yes, me with the grizzled antennae-hair, thinning on dome-top, the round wire-rim spectacles, the bulging gut overhang. Until he gestures it's over and we're to go...

'Er, we go straight down here. Then up the stairs. We got overnight for you. Not too much. Not what you deserve.' Talking as we walk. 'Who is the significant other that "Yell" is dedicated to? Pray tell me.'

'Can't. I'm pledged never to reveal.'

'Is it a name I'd recognise?'

Ha, that's the tease. And it's a good string-along that's kept lit-crits chuntering away for two decades. You feed them teasing hints every touch and turn. Just to keep it bubbling. I wonder if he knows? I wonder if he's even read it? We did that mutual exploration thing when we were marginally younger than Sugarfoot is now, Neal and me both eighteen, with blazing urgency in our pants and nowhere else to take it. And it was so sweet. The fumblings and feeling-up, the rubbing and tossing-off, the tentative sucking and spurting. A confusion of inexorable gravities that draws us into each other's straining groins. But then things get complicated. To him, I guess, we are just friends. Friends who do stuff together. To me, it was more, and increasingly it's me doing all the pleasuring, him letting me do it. Then Neal meets her. They get close. They get married. She makes it subtly obvious she doesn't approve of me. Like she sees me as some kind of rival. And maybe I am. Because when she's not around, old habits resume. And I'm giving him head. She won't do it, she says it's one thing she can never bring herself to do, although for the life of me I could never understand why anyone would not want to suck so beautiful a cock. The great thing about being male is that you get to have erections. Just how wonderful is that? The great thing about guy-on-guy sex is that you get to share someone else's erection, which is even better, it provides a contact-high that multiplies the buzz. So I never miss an opportunity.

Until that day we're upstairs in their bedroom and he has his pants down and I've got seven inches of his stiff cock pulsing in my excited mouth (I know its dimensions, we've done all the mutual measuring comparisons, he's bigger than me, but it seems appropriate), and she returns unexpectedly, walks in on us, catches us in the act just as he's on the point of orgasm. She goes hysterical, accusing him of all manner of nastiness. Treating me like shit. He's pleading and comforting her. I'm stood there, caught up in it. He phones me later. His voice strained and a little hoarse. She's laid down terms and conditions. If they're to stay together it's only if I exit forever. What can I do? It's that angry bitterness, that raging frustration that fuels "Yell", not all the other political stuff. It's that helpless howl of pain against cruel fate. I've never seen Neal since, but I've kept the faith. I wonder if he knows how much that separation hurts? I wonder if he's even read the poem it inspired...?

Sugarfoot walks beside me. I try to nod and grunt at appropriate places. Not that it's necessary. He does all the talking.

'You were there on the frontline of Gay Rights. On the barricades at Stonewall...'

Er, well, actually no. I was there in spirit with the Stonewall insurrection. I shared their anger, their noisy carnival of protest, by proxy, from a distance. I wrote stuff in support. Years later, visiting Greenwich Village, I did actually walk the full length of Christopher Street. But no, it's not true to say I was actually there as those joyous outraged heroes fought back at Police repression during the long hot summer of June 1969. New energies in the air. Stale old forms collapsing and falling away through exhaustion, repetition and boredom. New sensibilities busy being born. Even from a distance, those rumour were wonderful. Even now you can read between the 3D-lines, taste the freedom like yesterday's spliffs. News feeds on itself. Crazy-crowds in frozen chaos. Panic panic panic.

'And you were there with the Frisco Bath House scene...'

Again no. I was always too scared-as-hell of getting hurt by promiscuous sex. Not that I didn't think about it, and it's not that I haven't had my moments. Sure I have. But I usually have to like the guy, or relate to him on some human level other than just lust. Lust is good. I've got no beef with lust. I've grappled cocks and balls and hairy arses aplenty. It's just that all that grope-grabbery and anonymous ass-fuck stuff is a little too intense and way-extreme for me. Own up, I chickened out. I'm a nice guy, honest. But I lost friends there, when the plague began, in watery-eyed remembrance. Don't want to drag that past out into the light. I had long-term contacts in the Castro Beat-scene community, people who published my poems in scuzzy mimeographed magazines and promoted loft-parties where I was invited to read. And yes, I wrote about it all, and yes, we had some great furtive sex in the warm twilight too. But I was never, truly, part of the Bath House scene. Don't look back. That past is a wilderness of horrors.

He softens the waxy pallor of his face enough to form a sketchy smile. 'You prey on people? For material to populate your poems. You're predatory?'

'No, I've got no Yoda-sense. I can't alter your mind-set and reprogramme your motivations.' Imprecise, furry talk that goes nowhere. Verbally circling each other like skilled duellists fencing for an opening. But with the delicacy of a cat killing a mouse.

'And the Gay Pride rallies...'

Ah yes, that's true. I was on more of them than I care to recall. A sense of duty. Or self-promotion. Being there to be seen being-there. Me, Allen Gilgamesh, the great Gay Poet. Fractured beauty in the street, drinking in the sun. It was expected. The pink press ran the photos. It doesn't do my book-sales any harm. Know what I mean?

I walk like an apathy-android on autoshrug. Disconnected. Disengaged. It's not my problem. Not any more. I made my call. Did my bit. Made my contribution. I gave. I gave. I'm walking through Lego-corridors in a Sims simulation-reality. I keep expecting the ad-breaks to begin. The sponsorship tag-line for the commercial I'm living through. My thoughts clunk clunk clunk around in my head like irascible poltergeists. One feeling elbowing the next out of the way, in turn. Why the hell am I even here at all? I got no-place else to go. That's the truth of it.

His room. A quick-flash inventory. Senses working overtime. So keen my ears drink in the sound of stale air brushing up against the furniture. Nostrils sucking in the sour-sweet tang of his body, the funk-smell of his T-shirt, the sweat and skin-flakes soaked into the mattress. He's yakking about shooting experimental movies, drastic avant garde stuff. It's creepy. These young Gays, they wear their freedom like cheap cologne. And it's right that they should. Yet at the same time... it seems creepy to me. This world is not what it should be. All things are not equal. My feelings are befuddled. It's temptingly easy to despise these young Gays, mostly because they're younger, prettier, fitter, and more enthusiastic than I'll ever be again. He fetches a bottle of red wine from the chiller, slurps at its neck, and passes it across. I taste his saliva on the glass lip.

'Prithee, grant me one boon.' He's giggling gleefully. I wonder where he's going with this.

'Boon away.'

'Can't, I'm bashful. I'm too shy to ask.' But he's talking with his voice, not his brain.

'I wasn't aware you hunted monsters.'

'Sometimes the monsters hunt you. It's not that my appetite is broad, just that other folks are so narrow.' The sound of his Superman underpants scratch-rustling down his thighs as he tugs them free. He catches up the discarded briefs in his hand and hurls them against the wall for no obvious reason. His crooked little smirk. His pants too. Legs like white tapeworms. His clothes form a puddle on the floor.

'Me, I wanna suck your cock, man. I wanna be able to say that me, I'm the guy that sucked that famous iconic Gay cock. That me, I sucked you off. I wanna be able to say that.'

'Who'd believe you?'

'Me. I'd believe it. That's enough.'

'I see' I manage inadequately, seeing nothing. 'I guess it'd be churlish to deny you.'

It all happens with indecent speed. His T-shirt is gone. A skinny bone-white torso. Prominent nipples. The right one pierced and ringed. He liberates a long thin uncut cock. He tugs it as it swings free, like guys do, setting the small tight balls a-jiggle. He's hardly my dream fantasy-shag. But I suppose, if I wasn't the great Gay poet, he wouldn't look twice at me either. He squats down to unzip me, his hands not quite steady, dog-trust in his sleepy eyes for this big Beat word-slinger. He reaches for my belt, unbuckling it faster than thought. I'm conscious of the powdering of short black hairs on the back of my hand as he grabs both pants and underwear by the waistband and yanks them down, me stupidly lifting myself so he can release me, and out lolls my lazy cock. I'd like to be able to say it springs out, leaps to attention, upswings, bobs, bounds, vaults, capers, a booster-rocket aimed at Saturn. But no, it doesn't do that any more, it kinda flops out. It's no big deal, but it's like he can't take his eyes off it.

He looks up at me as though seeking permission, then lifts it reverently, rubbing it gently between thumb and forefinger until it shows signs of twitching life. A queer frightening exciting sensation. My mouth waters. So does his. My pulse beats a little faster. When he draws it into his mouth it's like the soft drape of a silk scarf. A hint of teeth on my glans. Just enough to stimulate. He's good with his lips and tongue. Practiced. I'm nudging his throat, aiming at his tonsils, he's sucking with an urgency. He's obviously well-used to doing this. My heart is thumping like mad now and yes, it's urging yes, yes, yes. Erect now, impossible not be, as his mouth works up, down and around me. Pumping it, I have to fight against the roaring of my senses, the tightening of the muscles in my stomach, my thighs, my buttocks, my gonads. This is the worst of all possible worlds. The sound of my life falling apart around me. The Gay Hero...? I'm not one thing or another. Like most everyone else, I'm a muddle. But I can see my own image reflected in Sugarfoot's inflated fantasies. I'm a fantastic creature of his imagination. I'm his smudged fictional creation. It's a testament to his strange clammy power that I exist at all. Thoughts feed off words. And words nourish thoughts. Blood is pounding in my head.

I'm sucking in hoarse ragged breaths as he sucks my penis in long deep strokes, making little appreciative murmuring sounds in his throat. Chills running down my brain. The light is flash-flickering. My cock throbs like toothache, setting up quivers that tremble the floor. Shivering, like every cell of my body is on vibrate. As though tectonic tremors are set up purely by emotional intensity. I could levitate from here to there on pure telepathy. Our irregular breathing is the loudest sound in the world. This scrawny young man gives a scrawny shudder, concentrating so hard he has my head buzzing, his breath coming fast, hot in my groin, as the tautness in the pit of my gut grows and grows. Then the long time-elevator of build-up begins. It starts quietly like an aching hunger in the bone-marrow, and grows to flash across separate nerve-cells, synapses, brain-cells, every touch-point in the body, radiating out from that intensity-centre, that nexus of mouth-penis connection. He's smirking up at me as I begin sputtering drizzles into his hungry mouth, his sleepy eyes unnaturally bright, and then he's chewing the viscous globs in his mouth, munching them, tasting them, savouring it like some pervy connoisseur kinkfest.

'Thank you, thank you' his voice slurred. 'You don't know what this means to me.' Sugarfoot, young and dumb with a mouthful of cum. He swallows, making his adam's-apple bob on his boy-scrawny neck.

'It's like you're passing the torch of your genius on to me. Now I've got your DNA-spermatozoa swimming inside me. It's as though I'm absorbing elements of your powers. Like it's something I can carry forward into the future.' He kisses the messy tip of my glans in a dreamy infatuated way, so that when he draws back he's still linked to it by a long milky strand of sperm. He licks it away, his tongue severing the connection.

I'm thinking, you do this to me and expect me to think afterwards? No. It's just a stupid groupie blowjob in a Lego no-place. Yet I get this crazy feeling that part of him is right. In this replica of a real place he's siphoning my life-energies out of me. Until I'm less than a ghost no-person in this no-place that doesn't exist. The real me, the real reality is left there, somewhere out in the past. Neal, where are you this night? We should be together, you and I. I still feel that ache, that lost sad longing...

BY TRISTAN TROTSKY

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bytristantrotsky© 1 comments/ 1754 views/ 0 

Georgie and Claire Ch. 01

byJoeDreamer©

"Georgie! You made it!"

"Um, what choice did I have?" I laughed as I walked into the backyard. "You threatened my life if I didn't show!"

"Well, I only graduate from high school once," Carol replied as she walked over and gave me a quick hug. "What fun would it be without my favorite cousin here?"

"I heard that!" my little brother Carl cried, but he wasn't really upset.

Everyone knew that Carol and I were close. At nineteen I was only a year older than her and although we lived one town over we ended up with a lot of the same friends. It had a lot to do with her dating one of my classmates. Lou was a good guy. I was disappointed when they broke up last summer. I guess it made sense in a way. He graduated with me and went to college across country.

"Hey G-Man," my little brother grinned. "I hope you stopped home first and saw mom, otherwise..."

"Of course," I interjected with a snort. "Do you think I'm stupid?"

Mom wasn't happy when I decided to stay at school for summer break, but I had great job near campus and I didn't want to lose it. Besides, a few of my closest friends were also staying. One, a girl named Annie, had the added benefit of being pretty good in bed. We weren't dating or anything, but we hung out and frequently ended up at one of our places when the night ended. I loved college, not that high school hadn't been fun in its way too.

"Can it get any hotter?" Carol complained. I had to agree with her. It had to be close to ninety already despite it still being relatively early.

My cousin was dressed for the heat. She looked good. Her dirty blond hair had grown out and she clearly spent time on her tan. It went well with her soft brown eyes. She was wearing a yellow bikini that made the most of her average sized breasts. She also had a colorful sarong wrapped around her hips and ass. The former were a bit wide and the latter somewhat flat, but the combination was sexy and appealing to me for some reason.

I knew I shouldn't be looking at Carol the way I was considering she was my cousin, but it was just the way I was built. I couldn't look at any woman without appreciating what she had to offer and my cousin had a nice body, a very nice body.

"At least your pool will earn its keep today," I offered, forcing myself to make eye contact before she realized where I was looking. Carol, being Carol would not be amused.

"Oh yeah!" Carl crowed. "Bikini heaven!"

"Down little brother," I laughed. "Most of the girls will be high school graduates and you're only going into your junior year."

"A guy can dream, can't he?" he retorted.

"Typical man," Carol put in, rolling her eyes. Carl and I exchanged a grin.

"What can I do to help?" I asked, changing the subject. The party wasn't scheduled to start for another couple of hours. I stopped by early to say hi. Mom told me that Uncle Stan had shanghaied Carl. I figured I'd offer to help since I was back in town early.

"I already have some volunteers," Carol said in a way that made me look at her. She nodded ever so slightly. I knew what that meant. Beth was here...damn!

"Hello 'Whore'gie." Speak of the devil.

"Seriously?" I asked, shaking my head as the honey blond walked out the back door of the house carrying the metal holders for some chaffing dishes. She looked better than I remembered. Maybe it was the flowery bikini she was wearing. She had on a sarong similar to my cousin's around her small waist, but it was a solid blue. "Don't you think you're getting a little old for name calling?"

Beth was a short, thin girl and didn't have much of a chest, but she made up for it in other areas. She was prettier than my cousin, at least in the classic sense of beauty and obviously worked hard at making the most of what she did have. My favorite aspect of her was her ass. No surprise there. I always was a bit of a butt man. Hers was small and round. It was the type that could fit in the palm of your hand. I didn't quite lick my lips when I saw it.

"Not if your case," she answered succinctly as she laid out where the chaffing dishes would sit. Her pale blue eyes could have been made out of ice based on the way she was looking at me.

"You're never going to forgive me, are you?" I sighed.

"Not likely. I was in love with you and you broke my heart."

"Please!" I snorted. "We barely knew each other when it happened."

"It was puppy love," my cousin's other close friend interjected as she exited the house and joined us with the tins that would be filled with water to keep the chaffing dishes warm. Things were looking up. Claire and I usually got along well. "After all, you were Carol's cute older cousin. Beth spent months watching you from afar."

"You should know," Carol said pointedly. "You were right there with her." Claire blushed as expected. She was the shy and unassuming one in their crowd. You know the type, beautiful and clueless about it. I had no idea how someone who looked like her graduated high school without realizing the truth.

Claire had long, dark hair and pale skin. Her eyes were deep blue and her lips were shaped perfectly for kissing. She wasn't really prettier than Beth, but I found her more attractive. To be fair, I always did have a thing for the sweat and innocent ones. Her hour-glass shape didn't hurt either.

Her breasts were bigger than both Carol's and Beth's, but it seemed to me that she was more embarrassed by the fact than anything else. You could tell by the full length cover-up she chose to wear and the fact that her shoulders were slightly slumped as if she were trying to hide her assets. She didn't like to draw attention to her tits which was disappointing to say the least. I was certain that there was a conservative one-piece bathing suit under the cover-up. What a waste!

I knew I could help Claire with her confidence issue. Hell, I'd love to do it! Of course, Carol would kill me if I tried. My cousin made me swear off her friends after the fiasco with Beth.

Claire had a thin waist despite the fact that her ass was perhaps a little larger than one might expect. I didn't mind. It added to her hourglass shape and I liked meaty asses. Who was I kidding? I liked all types of asses and my cousin and her two friends ran the gambit.

"You know," Claire said, turning to me. I quickly shifted my eyes up from her ass. "Beth might have been able to forgive you for cheating on her, but you picked Vicky Johnson to do it with. They hate each other."

"The girl is a major bitch!" Beth snapped.

"Sure," I couldn't help laugh. "But she was awfully friendly that night."

"You're not helping yourself here," Carol said, shaking her head. I had enough.

"The whole thing is ridiculous!" I snapped in frustration. "I did not 'cheat on' Beth. We weren't even dating, much less going steady."

"Did you or did you not kiss her earlier that day?" my cousin asked.

"Sure," I shrugged, although if I remembered correctly, she'd been more of the instigator of our lip lock. "But we didn't talk about anything long term. Besides, she disappeared and left me at the party all alone. I got drunk and..."

"...And as they say," my little brother interjected with a grin. "The rest is history!"

"I had to leave," Beth said angrily. "I went home floating on a cloud, only to see Vicky's Facebook page a couple of hours later. She was sitting on your lap!"

"She did more than that," Carol snorted.

"Exactly," Beth said. "You earned the nickname 'whore'gie that night, and from what your cousin says, you've lived up to it ever since." I gave Carol a pointed look, but she just shrugged.

"It's true," she said. "You're a male slut. Everyone knows it." I was annoyed, but it's not like I could deny it. I was good with women, just like my father and I took full advantage of it.

"Alright G-man!" my little brother cried. "Finally, a reason to look up to you!" Carol hit him and Beth threw a bunched up napkin that bounced off his head. Claire just shook her head.

"Let's go help Uncle Stan before one or both of us ends up getting hurt," I said, leading my brother away. I did glance back at the ladies once more before searching out my uncle. Thankfully, they were focused on setting up for the party and didn't notice.

The three of them worked well together. My cousin was directing the other two. I didn't quite smile at that. Carol was obviously the ring leader of their little group. She was also the youngest. She'd just turned eighteen a month ago.

I found myself wondering if they would stay close considering they were all off to college next year. I hoped so. Not everyone had the kind of friendship they did. It would be a shame if they grew apart. Besides, it was always interesting to see all three together. They didn't look much alike, but all three were pretty damn hot in their own way. Now if I could only convince my cousin to relax her rule on no dating her friends. Beth had a tight little body and I had the feeling she'd be a hellcat in bed, but my eyes lingered longer on Claire. There was just something about her.

**********

I jumped into the in-ground pool a few hours later after taking my turn at the barbeque for Uncle Stan. It felt amazing. I let the chlorinated water cool my overheated body and wash away the sweat and barbeque smoke. The shallow end of the pool was pretty crowded so I shifted to other side and dove deep just for the sheer joy of swimming unencumbered. I briefly came up for air and dove again. A small, lithe female body shot past me.

I wasn't expecting her and didn't really get a good look, but what I did notice was that her bathing suit was riding up her ass, and what an ass it was! I followed it almost without thought. I wanted another look.

The pool was packed so it took me a few seconds to catch up to the girl. By the time I did, we were in the shallow end of the pool. I came up and out of the water to see her standing there looking at me with an unpleasant frown. It was Beth of all people. I didn't quite grimace despite realizing that I should have recognized her. Who else here had such a perfect, small, round butt?

"Oops," I offered as I tried hard not to notice that her hands were under the water. I failed miserably. She was obviously fixing her bathing suit. Beth shook her head, but then surprised me by moving close, very close. I could smell the alcohol on her breath. Beth's body pressed against mine as she leaned forward and whispered in my ear.

"This all could have been yours." She knew full well what she was doing to me. "But you chose Vicky instead." She pulled back, splashed me in the face and started to swim away. I reached out and grabbed her ankle, pulling her back to me as I blinked the water out of my eyes. "Hey! Let me go!" Instead, I pulled her closer.

"Let's get one thing straight," I said softly. "Maybe you and my cousin are right. Maybe I am a male slut, but I did not choose Vicky over you. I was drunk and she was there. You were, and I expect still are, way hotter than her." I let Beth go with that. She pulled back and frowned at me for a moment before disappearing. I watched her go, or more specifically, I watched her ass as she left. It really was mouthwatering. I shrugged to myself and dove back under the water.

The party was a mix of family and Carol's friends. I knew just about everyone. It was nice to see my family. Well, everyone except my cousin Will. He was a year older than me and just as good with the ladies. He didn't live close, but we'd had some good times together going out and picking up girls the summer before I went away to school. Will was an inch or two taller than me, but not as wide in the shoulders. I never begrudged him his ability with the ladies, but he was talking up Claire today. Bastard.

Claire seemed to enjoy his company, but I doubted she was falling for any of his come-ons. I could only hope. Well, that and focus on some of the other women available at the party. There was quite a bevy. Carol's friends were always a cute bunch, but some of them had become downright hot over the last year.

One or two caught my interest and then some, but every time I started talking them up Carol, Beth or even Claire when she wasn't busy with Will would show up until I got the message. If it weren't so irritating, it would have been funny.

The family started disappearing as it got later, leaving just the friends. I was relieved when Will left with his parents. Carol's friends all sat in a circle at one end of the yard and talked. I sat with them for a few minutes, but then saw my aunt and uncle start to clean up. I stood and went to help. It wasn't like Carol, Claire and Beth were going to let me have any fun anyway.

It was pretty obvious that some of my cousin's friends were drinking despite Uncle Stan doing his best to keep them away from the alcohol. I myself was feeling no pain. Uncle Stan face showed his concern. Finally, he pulled Carol to one side at around ten. They exchanged words, but Uncle Stan was firm. The party ended a couple of minutes later. He checked all drivers before letting them leave. One was in pretty bad shape. My uncle decided to give the guy a ride himself. The problem was that Carol's drunken friend kept saying he had work the next morning and couldn't leave his car. Carol's parents exchanged a few words. Moments later my uncle was driving the guy in his own car while my aunt followed them in hers.

"What about you?" Beth asked after they left. "Aren't you leaving?"

"Me? What about you?" I frowned.

"Claire and I are spending the night," she retorted. Her eyes were shiny. She looked like she was drunk and looking for a fight.

"Damn," I sighed. "I was planning on catching up with Carol. I wish I'd known you were staying before everyone else left. I'm in no shape to drive. Let me eat something. I should be fine in an hour or so."

"You could sleep in Dad's den," Carol offered.

"No thanks," I said, shaking my head. "A guy can only taking being called 'whore'gie and male slut so much. I'm going inside to raid the left overs."

"Don't go empty handed!" Beth snapped. I shook my head and picked up the last serving platter. Everything else had already been brought inside. Carol and Beth were cleaning the tables. Uncle Stan told me not to bother breaking them down before he left. The place he rented them from was coming tomorrow and the breakdown was part of the cost.

I walked in the house to find Claire by the sink washing the dishes. There was still quite a stack. I grabbed some of the leftover pasta and began wolfing it down quickly.

"Just give me two minutes and I'll help," I said. Claire smiled and nodded, chatting about the party while I ate in silence. She didn't seem to notice me checking out her body. She had her cover-up on once again, but it couldn't hide all her curves. Mostly, all I could really see from behind her was her thick, nicely shaped ass. Don't get me wrong. It wasn't huge, just full and a bit oversized. Yummy!

Despite me being an ass man, it wasn't the only thing about her that caught my interest. I also couldn't stop myself from daydreamed about kissing her. Claire's lips were full and inviting. The truth be told, if I was going to hit seriously on one of Carol's friends, it would be Claire and not Beth, but that was never going to happen. I sighed to myself, finished my hasty meal and grabbed a towel to help her with the dishes.

"Thanks," she smiled.

"So, who was the guy with the red tank top?" I asked, just trying to hold up my end of the conversation. I also made an effort not to focus on her breasts. They swayed as she scrubbed.

"You mean Danny?" she asked.

"Could be," I replied with a shrug. "Tall guy, plenty of muscles?"

"Danny," she nodded. "He's a sweety."

"Thinking about going out with him?" I asked, hoping I knew the answer.

"He has a girlfriend," Claire said. "We're just friends."

"And what about my cousin Will?" I asked, getting to my real fear.

"He was funny," she replied. "But not my type."

"He was really into you," I said almost without thought. "He was hitting on you pretty hard."

"Not everyone is like you," Claire said, blushing. Normally I could care less what people thought about me, but Claire's words bothered me. I shook it off.

"Maybe not," I agreed easily enough. "But that doesn't mean he wasn't into you."

"You're wrong," she insisted. "You just have a one track mind!" Beth walked in, but only heard the last line.

"Is 'whore'gie hitting on you?" she asked angrily.

"No," Claire replied. "But he's insisting that his cousin Will was."

"Oh that," Beth said, calming considerably. "He was. It was pretty funny, but stay away from him. Will is even worse than 'whore'gie here."

"Really?" Claire asked in surprise.

"I'm not that bad," I sighed.

"Yes you are," Beth snapped, but then she relented and added, "But despite being a male slut, you're a decent human being. Will's a different story altogether, at least that's what Carol says."

"He can be pretty bad," I said, remembering some of our conversations. Will was one of those guys who thought women were a different species. They were here to be used and dumped. He had no guilt when it came to how he treated girls.

"I'm surprised he wanted to be with me," Claire said thoughtfully. "There were so many girls to choose from."

"Claire, you have to get over your lack of confidence," I said, forgetting about my cousin and focusing on her. "You're beautiful. Everyone knows it except you. Don't you think it's time you admitted it to yourself?" Our eyes locked and I felt a connection forming. There was a part of her that wanted to believe me. The fact that it was the truth in this case made it even better.

"You are hitting on her!" Beth cried, distracting Claire and ruining the moment. I couldn't tell if she was jealous or just being overprotective of her friend, but in either case I had enough.

"This is getting ridiculous!" I snapped. "We need to talk. Come with me." I grabbed Beth's hand and led her out of the kitchen. We needed some privacy for this so I led her to Carol's bedroom, pushed her inside, followed her and shut the door.

"What's your problem?" I cried, facing her angrily. "I'm not going to continue to pay for something that happened two years ago! I'm sorry I hurt you. It wasn't intentional, but don't you think it's time you get over it?"

"You're an asshole!" she retorted, just as angry as me. I suddenly realized that this confrontation was a mistake. She was clearly drunk. The problem was, so was I.

"Beth, what the hell do you want from me?!" I cried in frustration.

She looked ready to continue to tear into me, so my surprise was even more complete when she threw herself at me and thrust her tongue into my mouth. This so wasn't what I expected, but with her tongue in my mouth there was only one option. I kissed her back and reached up, squeezing her small breasts. I thought she might protest, but instead she moaned into my mouth.

"I want this from you!" she gasped between kisses, her eyes flashing with her desire. "In two years I haven't forgotten what it feels like to be in your arms." I knew Beth well enough to realize it wasn't an omission of love, but of pure and simple lust which was almost as shocking. Beth hated me. She'd made it clear every time we met.

She surprised me again by taking what we were doing to the next level. Beth reached between us and took hold of my cock through my bathing suit. Her eyes were afire and suddenly I realized that despite her dislike of me and the fact that she never came across as the promiscuous type, she wanted more, possibly a lot more. Her next words proved it.

"I can still remember how it felt to have your body pressed against mine, my stomach trembling in desire with your stiffness crushed against it. I was so young and inexperienced. You awoke things in me I didn't understand until much later." I couldn't quite believe my ears. Was this really Beth talking? Instead of waiting to find out, I reacted, not wanting to miss my chance with her.