Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

[My sincere thanks to estragon for proof-reading and copyediting this story. -Tricia]

Session III: Group Session

The weekend was one of the best I had had in a while. Dr. Gupta’s prescription to help my sleep was working like a charm. It was a little difficult to get the privacy to masturbate, but I was managing. It was one thing to worry about my husband, Bob, who fell asleep like clockwork, snoring by 10:15. But my teenagers were at the age where they were staying up later than I did. If I went into my bathroom it was okay; but I knew I needed to be quiet.

There was something freeing about masturbating by prescription: no more guilt. I could do it, and enjoy it, and sleep like a baby afterward. And I hadn’t had as many orgasms in ages.

I also found myself standing straighter and eating somewhat less. Certainly I drank less. I don’t think that was the vibrator though. That was the spankings. I started to make a list over the course of the time of things that I needed expiation from. And I knew that the spankings would release me.

Getting the time off from work was a little harder than it had been last Friday. But I rearranged my schedule and got to Dr. Gupta’s waiting room, slightly out of breath, just before two. Just as I sat down to catch my breath, the doctor opened the door to the inner sanctum and said, “Megan, Saguna, Pamela, good you’re all here. Please, come on in.”

We were all similar ages, somewhere in our late thirties or early forties, and all had the harried look of suburban mothers/wives/worker bees. Megan was probably the one of us in the best shape, a tall skinny woman with a tight bun of dirty blonde hair. She wore tiny rimless glasses and a business suit of grey cloth and a royal blue silk blouse. I guessed that she might have been a banker.

Saguna was obviously Indian like Dr. Gupta. I had noticed over the years that a lot of her clientele were also Indian. That made sense. Anyway, Saguna must have been a nurse or dental hygienist. She wore the sort of pink loose-fitting uniform that someone in that business might wear. She was “plus sized” like me. I assumed that like me she’d put the weight on with the kids and never managed to get it off. Her hair was long, thick, and dark and she wore it pulled back and tied with a red ribbon at her neck.

Me, well, I was wearing jeans that day. I had a busy morning moving some new systems and I was in my grubbies. I felt a little bad about that and a little ripe, but it couldn’t be helped. That was my job some days. The worst was when I got dressed up to work in the administrative offices and wound up crawling around in the wiring.

“Stand in a line, ladies,” Dr. Gupta instructed us when we entered her office and she closed the door. The three of us looked nervously at each other and at the doctor. I had maybe seen Saguna in the waiting room once, but Megan was not someone I’d ever run into. We were really all strangers to each other. Dr. Gupta took her seat in front of us. She was wearing a traditional sari, which she did now and again on no particular schedule that I could discern. Usually she wore “regular western” clothing.

“Megan, Pamela and Saguna, listen to me. You’ve all started this new therapy with me in the last week and the first couple of sessions have seemed promising to me. You were each encouraged last session. Is that still the case, Megan?”

“Yes, Dr. Gupta, it is.”

“What about you, Pamela?”

“It’s güvenilir bahis working great. I don’t understand why, but…”

“It’s best if we don’t worry about why just yet. Saguna?”

“It’s helped a lot, Dr. Gupta.”

“Good. Now for the next step, which is to help you reduce your inhibitions even more. I will spank each of you, in turn, while the others watch. And I want you all to make sure you watch. If I catch you looking away or closing your eyes, you’ll have extra spankings. Do you all understand?”

We all nodded.

“Pamela, you’re first. Step forward.” I moved to a space between Dr. Gupta and the other women, fully aware of their eyes on me.

“Pamela, listen to me,” the doctor said, “take off your shoes, then your pants and come here for your spanking.”

I was glad I wasn’t facing Megan and Saguna; I could almost ignore their presence. I slipped off my shoes then unbuttoned my jeans, slid them down off my legs and stepped out of them. I was wearing pink cotton bikini panties that were probably mostly obscured by my shirt tails. I went to Dr. Gupta’s side; she reached up and pulled my panties down and I bent over her knees. She pushed my bikinis down further and off my ankles.

I know I was blushing with being half-naked in front of these strangers, and the shame sharper because she’d positioned herself sideways to the other women. Naked and over her knee, my ass and sex were exposed to the others. The feeling of indignity disappeared though as soon as she started spanking me. I was transported into a totally different space. My worries vanished and my thoughts hyper-focused down to just the pain in my ass. She spanked me with her bare hand for only a couple of slaps, and then switched to the ruler.

I knew my thighs were drifting apart. I knew I should stop it, but I didn’t. I told myself I couldn’t. I don’t really know if I could or not. But Dr. Gupta didn’t let me get away with it. “Do you think these women want to see your nasty cunny, Pamela?” she said before her ruler hit home right there between my legs.

I managed to keep them sort of closed for a few more moments, but they must have drifted apart because suddenly the doctor stopped and said, “I think you do want them to see your cunny, Pamela. Okay, spread your legs.” I moved them apart a little more than they were. “Oh no. All the way, Pamela. Spread your slutty legs wide for Megan and Saguna.” She pushed one leg, then the other to open me. I was totally exposed to these women I’d never met before. The next five blows landed right on my sex. Then she went back to my ass. I never was good at counting, so I don’t know how many times she hit me. I was shuddering with pleasure when she stopped. I was surprised that I didn’t shed a single tear. That was strange.

“Okay, Pamela. You’re done. You were a good girl. Now get up and get back in line.” I stood up and made a move to reach my panties on the floor, but the doctor simply waved me toward the other two and I left them where they were.

“Step forward Saguna,” Dr. Gupta said. The Indian woman stood forward. “Saguna,” the doctor continued, “listen to me. Strip down to your panties and come stand in front of me.” I wasn’t sure why she was being asked to take off more clothes than I. I was happy to have my shirt still on, the more so as I watched the plump woman in front of me shed her top and bra, her pants and her shoes. She stepped in front of the doctor türkçe bahis wearing large white cotton panties.

Her skin was the color of coffee with cream, her breasts were heavy and sagged more than mine did. But I was glad I still had my top on and the comparison was only mine to make. I was surprised when Dr. Gupta’s ruler snaked out and quickly slapped one of Saguna’s breasts and then the other. Saguna’s hands immediately reached up and covered her breasts with her hands. “Move your hands, Saguna.” She complied, her hands returning to her side. The doctor’s ruler flashed out again and smacked the nearly nude woman’s breasts four or five more times each. I was fascinated to see her nipples getting hard during the abuse.

“Turn to your side, Saguna,” the doctor said. “No the other way, face away from the others. Bend over and put your hands on your knees.” The position exposed the crotch of Saguna’s panties to us and I was surprised to see how wet the cotton was. Dr. Gupta stood up and stood between us as she pushed down Saguana’s panties. Then she stood on the side and began to whale on the woman’s bottom with her ruler.

Saguna was crying. Actually she was crying and whimpering and I think she was asking the doctor to stop, but there was no respite. The blows landed repeatedly and mercilessly for I don’t know how long. It was embarrassing to watch. And stimulating at the same time. I felt every blow. I wondered why I was folded over the doctor’s knees while Saguna was told to stand. I secretly wished for the doctor to strike Saguna between her legs like she did me. But then I remembered the swats to Saguna’s breasts and shuddered in thankfulness. I realized that I was soaking wet between my thighs.

Dr. Gupta stopped. “Stand up and turn around, Saguna,” she said quietly. “Put your hands behind your neck.” She hit Saguna’s breasts five more times each before she said, “Okay, put your hands down and go back to your place. You were a good girl.”

“Step forward, Megan.” The third woman did so. “Are you dressed like you usually are, Megan?”

“Yes, doctor.”

“I expected as much. Listen to me, Megan, take off your suit and blouse and then face your session mates.” As Megan slipped out of her pumps and then took off her suit jacket, blouse and skirt, Dr. Gupta walked behind her desk and opened her drawer. She pulled out something and then came back to stand by Megan. Meanwhile, we learned what Dr. Gupta meant by Megan’s normal clothing. Underneath her suit she wore only a camisole, a garter belt and stockings. No bra. No panties. Her pubes were shaved.

“Open,” Dr. Gupta said and when Megan opened her mouth the doctor held a small rubber stick-like thing to her mouth that Megan bit down on.

“Megan is a bit of a nymphomaniac, a bit of an exhibitionist,” Dr. Gupta said to Saguna and me. “She needs a slightly more intense therapy.” She looked at Megan, “You’d like to be touching yourself right now wouldn’t you?” The blonde woman nodded. “Go ahead.”

I watched with fascinated disgust as Megan reached her hand between her legs and ran her fingers along the length of her opening. She shuddered as she did so. She was looking right at me.

Dr. Gupta’s ruler flashed out. It struck Megan’s hand, then quickly whacked her exposed labia. Megan jerked her hand away. “No, touch yourself again,” the doctor ordered. Megan complied and once again the doctor swatted her hand and labia. “Again.” Five or güvenilir bahis siteleri six more times, the doctor made Megan repeat her movement, each time she was swatted.

“Turn around. Hands on the back of my chair, Megan. Legs spread wide, bend way over.”

The position was frankly lewd. Megan’s sex was wide open, spread for all of us to see. Dr. Gupta seemed unconcerned. She put the ruler back on her desk and picked up a sort of paddle. Then she moved behind Megan and without any prelude started slapping her patient repeatedly between her legs. Megan shuddered with each blow, though with pleasure or pain I couldn’t tell. And the bit between her teeth prevented her from making any noise.

The doctor continued for some minutes. After the initial volley of spanks between Megan’s legs, she started alternating between her sex and her bottom. Then it was predominantly about her bottom. But the last six or seven were viciously hard and all aimed between Megan’s legs, right on her exposed clitoris.

Finally it was done. “You’ve done well Megan. Stand up. Turn around.” She held her hand before Megan’s mouth. “Open,” then she took the bit out and put it on her desk. “Go stand in line.”

She sat back down in her chair, primly adjusting her sari around her. “You’ve all done exceptionally well. I noted that none of you were looking away every when you were supposed to be watching. And you all took your spankings as well as I expected you to. How are you feeling? Saguna?”

“Tingly all over. Like I just completed a race and won.”

“Good, and you, Pamela, how do you feel?”

“Um, like I’ve been through a mill and reborn on the other side. I’m sort of floating.”

“Good. Finally, Megan, what about you?”

“I hurt. But it’s a good hurt. It was good for me.”

“Very good all of you. Now, get out your phones and start up that app you installed for me.”

Still half-naked or naked we each went to our purses and got out the phones, and pushed the buttons to bring up the app. Dr. Gupta was typing on her computer. She pushed a key and turned to us. “In a second,” Megan’s phone rang a tone, followed by mine and Saguna’s. “There. You’re all tuned in. Are your screens showing green lights?” We all nodded.

“Now, you’re under the computer’s control from here on out. We’ll still have our regular sessions, but the therapy will largely be controlled by the central computer. It will track you and correlate you with women who have agreed to perform the therapy.

“At times that are carefully calculated,” she continued, “but you won’t be able to predict, your phone will ring. The app will pop up. When that happens, you’ll be given a name and an address. The phone will guide you to the location. When you get there, the person named will be there. They have a similar app indicating that you’ll be coming. They will continue your therapy.”

“What does that mean, exactly?” Saguna asked.

“They will spank you. You will follow their instructions. You will not question them. They may ask you about what you’ve been doing. They may decide that you are being punished. Or rewarded. Or simply treated. It doesn’t matter. You will take your therapy.”

Addressing me, she said, “Pamela, listen to me, when you are told by the computer to do this you will do it. Agreed?”

“Yes, Dr. Gupta,” I said obediently, unbelieving I had agreed to this.

She asked Megan and Saguna in turn the same question. Each answered the same.

The doctor told us to get dressed and made sure we all had follow-up appointments and shooed us out of her office.

For my part I needed to get home quickly. I needed a bath and I needed my vibrator.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

A Death, Baked Bob, and the Personal Ad

(F/F, oral, anal, exhibitionism, jewelry, drugs, tattoos, piercings, food, bad accents)

DISCLAIMER – This is a fictional story to be read and enjoyed. If you can’t read, stop reading. If you can’t enjoy, stop reading. If you don’t like any of the story codes mentioned above, stop reading. If you can’t stop, it’s not my problem.

Part 3 – The Worst First Date In Recorded History

I drove slowly to the coffee shop, hoping to minimize the amount of time I had to spend babysitting Bob’s cousin. The place was two old storefronts converted into a caffeine junkie’s paradise. The first part where you walked in was a service area with a counter taking up a whole wall. A large doorway in the opposite wall led into the other storefront, which was filled with tables, chairs and the occasional couch. The front of the room was a giant window that looked out onto the street.

Bob’s cousin was sitting at a table in front of the window. I took one look at this girl and couldn’t believe my eyes. Two words shot to the forefront of my mind – pure beauty. She had a face that looked sweet and innocent, like one of the princesses in a Disney film. Bob said she was twenty-four, but her face looked sixteen and it would be some years before it looked any older. Her blonde hair was cut just below her jaw line, with bangs that made her locks frame her face. It was an obvious attempt to make her look older, and it barely worked.

I stood and watched her for a moment. Something about her seemed off – the way she looked around, checking out the wall art, then the waitresses passing by, then the other people around her. Her arms went from being on the table to her lap to hugging herself to back on the table. At first I thought she had ADD or something, but then it came to me – she was uncomfortable. Maybe she didn’t like waiting, or maybe she didn’t like being in crowded rooms with lots of people, or maybe she didn’t like sitting alone, or maybe she didn’t like waiting alone in a crowded room full of lots of people. In any case I was prolonging her agony by just standing there.

I took one step to approach her and then froze in my tracks. Andy’s phone call came back to me. Blonde girl. This girl was a blonde. Oh no. No, no, no. In one fluid motion I spun on my heel and was about to make for the door when –

“Keisha!”

Fuck. My first mistake was letting that stop me. My second was responding to her call by turning around. She smiled and waved. It wasn’t a wide smile, she didn’t even show any teeth, but there was something so sweet in it that I couldn’t bear to let her down by fleeing. Even though every fiber in my body was saying run, I smiled back and walked over to the table.

When I got there she stood and we shook hands. Jessica wore a necklace with a silver cross and her right nostril was pierced, a simple silver stud that winked whenever it hit the light. “It’s good to finally meet you,” she said.

She emphasized the word ‘finally’, making it sound like Bob had talked about me before today. Which was funny, because he had never mentioned his cousin before. I smiled back and to be polite said, “Same here.” We sat. When she spoke, I noticed Jessica’s tongue was pierced with a silver bar. The waitress came over. Jessica ordered an espresso and I asked for hazelnut decaf.

“So,” I said as the waitress walked off.

“So” Jessica replied as she smiled.

I hated these moments. Trying to cut off a prolonged uncomfortable silence, I said the first thing that came to my mind. “What do you for a living?”

Jessica gave me a confused look. “I thought you knew that already.”

Great, she thinks Bob talks about her all the time. I smiled and said, “I have a bad memory.”

“I’m a receptionist at a dentist’s office, but I’m going to night school for computer programming.” Jessica shrugged, “It’s not as cool as being in advertising like you are, but I was never that creative.”

I guess Bob hadn’t mentioned my recent career change. Hearing Jessica talk about my old job kind of hit me wrong, so I was silent. Jessica didn’t say anything and we had one of those uncomfortable moments I was dreading. It stretched into a full minute and finally I couldn’t take anymore.

“So what kind of music do you like?” I asked. Jessica got a concerned look. “What?” I said.

“You are Keisha Parker, right?”

I smiled and nodded sarcastically. “Uh, yeah.”

“Look,” she said, “no offense to your bad memory, but if I can remember that you like old funk because your Dad was a musician, I would think you could remember that I like punk and metal.”

This was worse than running into someone from high school whose name you can’t recall while they remember every class you had together. “I have to go to the bathroom,” I said. “I’ll be right back.”

When I got into a stall I took out my stash and popped a pill. This is what I get for doing a favor for a friend, much less Baked Bob. The girl was driving me so crazy that I went ahead and popped another pill without even thinking about it. I sat on the toilet for a few minutes, waiting for things to kick in. Bob would owe canlı bahis şirketleri me big for tonight.

I walked to the mirror and felt the drug coming on strong as I fixed my hair. There was a fight with the bathroom door, which I put an end to when I stopped pushing and found the handle to pull it open. I collided with a woman coming around the corner and apologized about sixty-five times to her. The bathroom was in the back of the coffee shop, so it looked like a forty-mile walk to the table from where I stood. I just kept telling myself to take it slow and everything would be fine.

Fine went out the window in the first two steps when I kicked someone’s chair leg. As I apologized to them I bumped into a waitress and knocked the cups she was carrying off her tray. They smashed onto the floor and I tried to help her pick up the mess. She kept telling me it was okay and I realized I was trying to fit the pieces of the cup back together. I got up and started walking towards Jessica again, but stopped to tell a woman I liked her dress and engaged her in a conversation so I could find out where she got it. As soon as she mentioned the store name I walked off without finishing the conversation. Just before I got to the table I noticed someone’s dessert on a table. It was a piece of cake drizzled in chocolate sauce.

“Oh, that looks good,” I said as I reached over the person and used my finger to wipe up some sauce.

“Hey!” he yelled as I licked my finger.

“Mmmmm,” I said. “You’re going to love that.”

“Are you okay?” Jessica asked as I sat down.

“I’m…just…” My attention wandered for a moment as I felt something against my face. I realized it was my hand and put it back into my lap. “Look,” I said, “I’m trying my best to be…patient here. It’s just hard because…well…you’re being a bitch.”

“What?!”

“Yeah.” I felt my hand on my face again and took it away. “I mean…it’s hard enough…hard enough…” I lost my train of thought, found it again and said, “I’m here doing a favor for a friend, but all this attitude I’m getting is –”

Jessica cut me off. “Wait, what do you mean you’re doing a favor for a friend?” I stared at her. She continued, “Look, unless you’re the wrong person, we met on the Internet last week. You answered my personal ad. Hell, you sent me your picture, that’s how I recognized you. And now here you are acting like you never read any of my emails.”

A bell started ringing in my head. I leaned over to get close to Jessica’s face, resisted the urge to lay down on the table, and asked, “You’re not Baked Bob’s cousin, are you?”

Jessica threw her hands in the air. “Who the fuck is Baked Bob?!”

In that moment, as fucked up as I was, through the haze of what was left of my mind, came the words ‘MUST CASTRATE BOB’.

“That son of a bitch,” I said.

“Who?” Jessica asked.

I wasn’t paying attention to her anymore. Without saying another word I got up and walked to the door, managing to only bump into three customers and two waitresses. Outside I walked along the sidewalk, passing the window of the coffee shop with Jessica staring at me through it. I got a few more steps before I realized I was going in the wrong direction. I turned and headed to my car, passing the window again. Jessica was still staring at me.

When I got to my car I dug through my purse for what seemed like forever trying to find my keys. I couldn’t believe I kept so much shit in there. Finally I just turned it over and dumped it all on the ground. My junk spread all over the place and I got on my knees, sifting through it like some prospector looking for a gold nugget. I acted like I’d found one when I discovered my keys. Standing up, I started muttering “Never again,” referring to how I would never fill my purse with so much shit again. I was about to stick the keys in the door when a hand grabbed them from me.

“You can’t drive,” Jessica said.

“Yes I can! I found…my keys…so I can drive.”

“Look, I don’t want to know what you took when you went into the bathroom, but you can’t drive right now. I’ll drive you home and take a taxi from your place.”

“What about your car?”

“I don’t have one,” she said.

“Well, you can’t be a very good driver…if you don’t have a…a car.” I reached out and tried to get the keys from her, but Jessica yanked her hand back and stuck her finger in my face.

“Shut the fuck up and get in the god dammed car, now.”

Dejected, I picked up the stuff from my purse and walked around to the passenger side door muttering, “Snooty, bitchy Disney princess.”

I was silent for the first half of the ride, looking out the window at all the houses and apartment buildings and wondering what people were doing inside. I turned when Jessica asked, “Okay, now I’m curious. What the hell did you take when you went to the bathroom?”

“A little pill. Or two.”

Jessica looked at me with wide eyes, then sighed and shook her head. Silence descended on the car again, and suddenly I felt very disappointed in myself. I kept trying to think of something to say, wanting to change her opinion of me. When I looked canlı kaçak iddaa at Jessica something hit me and I perked up.

“I just…figured out something. About you.”

Her face had an annoyed look. “What wonderful bit of wisdom is that?”

“When we were, where…at the coffee shop! There was something, about your eyes, that didn’t fit with your face. Don’t worry…it’s not a physical…wait…flaw. They’re dull blue, right?” Jessica didn’t answer so I continued. “It really works with your…hair and clear skin.” I reached out to touch her cheek, but Jessica batted away my hand.

“Stop it,” she said. I sat there quietly until Jessica asked, “So what’s your point?”

“It’s just that, I realized what…was bothering me. What I saw.” Suddenly my attention was drawn to a diner we were passing, and I could almost smell the disco fries (that’s French fries with melted cheese and gravy, for those of you poor souls not familiar with it).

“Hello? Planet Keisha?”

I looked at her. “It was…pain…in those eyes.” Jessica looked at me. “And it’s still there,” I said. “It’s the kind of pain that shows through, no matter how much you…” I thought and then shrugged, “…try to smile or look happy.”

Jessica was silent for a minute. Then she turned to me looking like she was going to say something, thought better of it and looked back at the road. We traveled the rest of the way in silence, mostly because I passed out.

The next thing I knew we were walking down the sidewalk to my building. Actually, Jessica was walking. I was half-walking, half-being carried. When we got to the stairs I looked up and saw that Ronald and Tim were at their usual post. I groaned but said nothing, hoping we could just pass them without incident. No such luck.

“Awwww,” Tim started, “what’s wrong with my favorite girl?”

“She’s had a little too much to drink,” Jessica said as she dragged me up the stairs. “Think one of you guys could be chivalrous and get the door for me?”

Ronald snorted. “We don’t assist niggers or nigger-lovers.”

Jessica stopped. All of a sudden I felt something hit my side, and it took me a moment to realize she had dropped me to the ground. By the time I looked up Jessica was standing right in Ronald’s face. “What did you call her?” she asked.

“Jessica,” a croaked voice said. I realized it was mine. “Don’t,” I said, but no one looked over or acknowledged that I spoke.

Tim smiled. “You her new bitch?” he asked. The smile dropped when Tim realized she wasn’t even acknowledging him.

Jessica was staring intently at Ronald. She asked the question slowly this time. “What did you call her?”

Ronald smiled. “Since you’re deaf, I’ll repeat it slowly. Ni-guh-er.”

What happened next is one of those moments that stay with you forever.

Jessica’s hand moved so fast that it took me a moment to realize something just happened. Ronald might not have noticed either, except for the fact that his head snapped back and there was blood pouring from his nose. The surprise in that moment seemed to hang in the air as time slowed down. Everyone just stood there frozen as our minds tried to digest the shock of what just happened. Everyone with the exception of Jessica, who let out a yell as she struck again, and this time Ronald grasped at his throat. Then her hands were against his chest and she used all of her body weight to push him over the railing. He fell into the bushes and disappeared.

Tim stood there with his mouth open. Jessica had just dispatched with his friend in three very quick moves. Tim reached out and grabbed Jessica’s hand, but I had no idea what he was trying to do. I don’t think Tim had any idea either.

“Hang on, I’ll help.” I said as I started to get up. My brain spun in my head, and I fell back down again.

Jessica’s foot quickly moved up and then downward, striking Tim in the knee. He cried out in pain as he let go of her hand and grabbed at his injured body part. Jessica’s leg shot outward and kicked Tim’s side, sending him tumbling down the stairs. I had managed to get to my knees by then. Suddenly I felt hands around my waist as Jessica helped me to my feet. She put my arm over her shoulders and resumed helping me walk.

“We showed them,” I muttered.

Once we got into the apartment Jessica said, “Huh. Nice place. Not what I expected from an addict.” On the way to the bedroom we passed a table with a picture of Monica and I hugging. I stopped, picked up the picture and kissed Monica. “You have a girlfriend?” she asked as I put the picture back down.

“Yeah,” I said. “But don’t worry, she’s dead.” I wasn’t looking at Jessica’s face, so I don’t know how she reacted to that.

In the bedroom Jessica turned on the bedside light. She lowered me onto the bed, took off my boots and pulled the covers over me. Looking down at me she said, “Well, I can’t say it was a boring date. You managed to embarrass both of us in a public place, I had to drive you home because you’re addicted to drugs, you passed out on me, I had to carry you to your apartment, and then there was a fight with Nazi skinheads. Did I forget anything? Oh yes, canlı kaçak bahis the fact that this whole thing was a sham to start with because of someone named ‘Baked Bob’.”

“That son of a bitch,” I moaned.

Jessica sighed, shook her head and said, “You did manage to prove that all my friends who warned me about online dating were right. So if you don’t mind, I’m going to go home, take down my ad, and get ready for three months of ‘I told you so’s’.”

Jessica turned to leave, but in a burst of energy I reached out and grabbed her hand. “Don’t go!”

She turned. “Honey, the last thing this date needs is extra innings.”

“I’m scared. I took two pills…and I’ve never taken two pills before and what if…what if…they kill me?”

“Then you’re shit out of luck, because I’m not a paramedic.”

Jessica’s tone was harsh, but I could see her eyes soften. She stared at me for a minute. Finally she shook her head and took off her coat. “God, I’m a fucking idiot.”

She walked around to the other side of the bed and took off her boots. Then she kneeled on the floor facing the bed, made the sign of the cross and propped her elbows on the mattress with her eyes closed. I stared at her until I worked up the courage to ask, “Are you praying?”

One eye opened. “Yes. Do you have a problem with it?”

I shook my head. “Just haven’t seen that in a while, that’s all.”

Her eye closed and she went back to praying. I stared at the ceiling and tried not to pass out. It seemed like quite a while. Suddenly Jessica said out loud, “And God, please do not let Keisha die during the night. Also, now that I think about it, please do not let her wake up, grab a knife and stab me to death. Amen.”

Jessica climbed into the bed next to me. “You don’t snore, do you?”

“No.”

“Good.” She turned on her side facing away from me. “Wake me up if you’re going to die.”

I lay there for a full minute, on my back, with the covers pulled up to my neck. The room was moving like an old television set that lost its vertical hold. I closed my eyes. Even the black was moving.

“Are you going to turn off that light?” Jessica asked.

In a hoarse voice I said, “I’m afraid I’ll fall.”

Jessica groaned, turned around and reached over me to turn off the light. Her neck was right near my nose and suddenly I smelled something very familiar.

It was Monica’s perfume.

Jessica shut off the light and went back to her side. I opened my eyes and remembered what Monica had taught me about meditation. Taking in a slow, deep breath while counting to ten, letting it out while counting to ten. I felt a little more in control. Another deep breath and the tension eased.

“Jessica,” I said.

“Call me Jess. What?”

I paused. “Thank you.”

Just before I fell asleep I heard, “Yeah.”

At some point I woke up. Nothing was spinning anymore. Pre-dawn light streamed through the blinds that I normally close before going to sleep, allowing me to see in the room. The bedside clock said it was quarter to six in the morning.

I looked over and saw Jess next to me. She was lying on her back and she looked like an angel. Her face was as smooth as a porcelain doll. I lay there for a while and watched Jess sleep, her chest slowly moving up and down, her nostrils flaring slightly with each breath. I leaned over to get a scent of her perfume, the same one Monica used to wear. Jess’ full lips were pink and looked so soft. I leaned down, just to give a slight kiss to them, and became intoxicated by their feel. They were everything they looked to be. I didn’t want to separate my mouth from them, so I went in for more.

I leaned against her a little, and that must have woken her up. Jess’ eyes popped open and I felt her hands on me. Her reaction was instant as she flipped us over and held my hands down, using her pelvis to pin mine down to the bed. Jess’ breathing was steady but audible. There was a wild, feral look in her eyes.

I was ready for anything. If she yelled or called me names, if she slapped me or punched me in the nose, if she got up and stormed out. I even found myself wishing she would kill me. Deep down I knew my life had turned to shit, and I had a feeling I wasn’t going to be able to turn it around. I wanted her to do something, anything. Whatever it was I was ready to take it, because in so many ways I felt like I deserved it.

I was ready for anything. Except what happened next.

Jess leaned down and kissed me. She missed my mouth a little, adding to the feeling that she was unsure about the kiss. At first I didn’t respond, genuinely surprised at her action, but then I adjusted so our mouths met properly and sent my tongue after hers. A slight panic came over me when I felt something hard, but then I remembered her tongue stud. It was strange working around a piece of metal in someone else’s mouth. Jess still held my hands down, so I lifted my head towards hers. A noise came from her, a moan or a sigh, and then she let my hands go and brought hers to the sides of my face. I put my arms around her body and pulled it tight to mine, then rolled us so I was on top. Our kissing became more primal, driven by a need to be inside one another. It almost felt like we were two people finally quenching a long-denied lust, which seems ridiculous since we’d only met the night before. My hands slid under her top and I caressed her sides.

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The shower, after our fun in the woods, was both much-needed (we were both wearing more grass-stains than make-up) and not a little frustrating. The former thanks to Debbie’s parent’s lawn and the latter thanks to a wonderful soreness.

Afterwards we retreated, still naked but now thoroughly relaxed about it, to Debbie’s bedroom and sat on her bed as we did our best to dry our hair.

She tapped my shoulder, “Is it really still less than a day since we met?”

“Since you ravished me in the lane?”

“Yeah. Since I first tasted your pussy. Any pussy, come to that.”

I nodded, “Still not twenty-four hours.” Now Debbie had said it I was amazed. And so very happy. “Hard for me to believe, but wonderfully true.”

And it was hard for me to believe. I had always been shy – not to mention heterosexual – and part of that condition was a reservation that saw me at the back of every queue, always the last to commit to new hobbies or likes. I wondered for just a fraction of a second if my sudden infatuation with Debbie was some sort of bi-product of the realisation that other women could appeal in such an unexpectedly sexual way. But then I looked across at her and knew – simply knew – that it was the person I had fallen for. She was pretty in a startled foal sort of way, but her character was even prettier. She was smart and she was clearly sassy and funny. She was perfect.

“Dallas?”

Debbie’s voice snapped me out of my reverie, “Sorry, I was miles away.”

“I was wondering what you wanted to do for the rest of the day. It’s not even mid-day yet.”

I threw my damp towel on top of where she had thrown hers, “I just want to be with you.” My answer surprised even me.

“Good. But do you mean in here or outdoors again?”

“I’m not sure my nerves or my vag could take it,” I laughed.

“Not even if I kiss the latter better?”

“Especially not! Maybe later?”

It was Debbie’s turn to laugh, “Actually that’s a good call. I think I might have dislocated my tongue.”

“I could manage to kiss that better.”

She shuffled up beside me on the edge of the bed. “Care to prove it?”

So we kissed. Just a normal, loving kiss. Her lips were so soft, her tongue so warm, and her eyes – deep blue, I noticed – glowed. My fingers tangled in her damp hair, but gently. Finally we broke apart, both smiling, neither of us self-conscious any more.

I looked down at her softly heaving chest, “You have really beautiful breasts, you know?”

Debbie’s gaze followed mine, “These little things?”

I nodded.

She snorted, “That’s the first time anyone’s ever said anything that nice about little miss tiny tits’ tits. Yours are perfect though.”

“Let’s call it a draw.”

“They sure seem to draw me.”

I patted her thigh, “I’m not complaining but you really are a terror.”

“You know?” she said, “I think I’ve spent as much time with them exposed to you as I have with them covered.”

“I’m not complaining,” I told her, surprising myself yet again, “But if we do go out anywhere this afternoon they are definitely in need of some cover. Any chance I can borrow something of yours? We must be about the same size.”

“No,” she grinned.

“Debbie!”

“Ok, ok, but just one item then.”

“If you say ‘shoes’ I might just have to kill you.”

“Well I was going to say a dress, but now you mention it…”

I slapped her thigh and then her butt as she jumped up with a giggle. “You really are a terror!”

She rubbed at her rump, “And you really do have a great aim. That’s twice you’ve spanked my bare butt.”

“True,” I grinned, “It’s a rather nice target and well deserved.”

Debbie turned to face me, “It must be part of this weird magic between us, but do you realise I’ve fantasised about being spanked ever since I was a little girl?”

“You know I’ve never really thought about it before, but now you come to mention it…”

“Your nipples,” Debbie said, “have just become totally rigid. I have the delicious feeling that you might like making my fantasy come true.”

I shrugged, realising she was right, incapable of being too surprised at anything after all that had happened so quickly, “The delicious feeling is all mine.”

“I’ll be sure to remind you later.”

“With your naughty mouth I don’t think you’ll need to.”

Debbie laughed, “I can’t help myself with you around. You bring out the naughtiness in me.”

“And I’ve only just started. Now, what about that dress?”

“You seriously fit enough for another trip out later?”

I nodded, “I aim to have so much fun with you from the very start.”

“Suits me,” Debbie said, “There’s loads of stuff in that big wardrobe. Help yourself but remember – just one item.”

I stood and kissed her nose, “You got any more dresses like the one you more or less had on this morning?”

“Oh yeah, I love easy access stuff for my little road trips.”

“Oh yes,” I said, pulling open the sliding door of the wardrobe, “Perhaps I can let you show me what illegal bahis sort of fun you have while we find somewhere new to have a wander.”

“Now that,” Debbie said, “is what I call a fantastic idea.”

My new friend’s wardrobe was packed solid with tops, skirts, dresses, jeans and jackets – including two very expensive-looking leather ones. Despite her giggling suggestions about ‘just a jacket’ and ‘just a long top’ I chose a short, summery dress which hung dangerously low at the front and would be a serious hazard to decency if a strong breeze blew up from anywhere.

Quite separately, Debbie had chosen something remarkably similar and only the colours set us apart – mine being bright green and hers another dazzling white one like she had been wearing earlier.

Although we were both increasingly keen to resume our playtime, Debbie’s suggestion of a coffee before we left won my immediate approval and we spent the cosiest minutes sharing beverage brewing duties in her parents’ immaculate kitchen. It didn’t help to speed things up any when the hem of my dress got caught in the fridge door and Debbie took every advantage to kiss exposed flesh. I rather think that only tenderness in my groin area prevented the delays from becoming an afternoon back in the bedroom.

Finally, though, we were ready to leave and we headed outside to where Debbie’s car sat in the driveway. As I’ve said before I’m more of a bicycle girl than a car over, but even I could see that the very shiny white convertible (a Ford something-or-other, she told me with not a little pride) was a lovely vehicle.

What wasn’t so lovely was the fact that it had been sitting in direct sunlight for at least a couple of hours and the seats were, to say the least, rather hot.

“I can’t sit with my bum lifted off the seat when you take us wherever it is you’ve got planned!”

Debbie was giggling and holding the short skirt of her dress firmly under her own butt, “Don’t forget your seatbelt!”

“Oh yeah, right. Gee thanks!” I tried to pull my own dress down the back of my legs and found out I could just about bear to sit so long as I kept my knees lifted high enough that the backs of my thighs stayed clear of the seat. “This is hardly very lady-like.”

“Oh I don’t know,” Debbie’s giggles increased in intensity and she nodded down to my lap where the front of the dress was riding high, “From this angle I can definitely tell you’re a lady.”

I hastily pushed the garment’s short skirt between my thighs, “Just yesterday,” I complained, “A certain pussy had never even experienced fresh air, now it doesn’t seem to get enough.”

“I sure don’t,” she turned the key in the ignition, the engine clattering into noisy life, “So don’t fret about covering up on my behalf.”

I gave a pout, trying not to laugh, and clicked my seatbelt home, “Just don’t drive too roughly, okay?”

“I’ll be as smooth as silk, I promise, and with the car’s top down it’ll soon cool off in here.”

“Glad to hear it,” I winced, wriggling around to get as comfortable as I could.

“Mind you,” Debbie added, “I have every intention of warming things up when we find the right spot.”

“I should moan at you, but I can’t seem to find it in me.”

Debbie leaned sideways and pecked my bare shoulder, “Don’t get me started on the innuendoes.”

I laughed, at ease and yet still uncomfortable in one great paradoxical lump, “Innuendo’s a funny word isn’t it? Sounds kind of like innuendo in itself.”

She started the car rolling along the driveway and rolled her eyes to match, “Let’s not start going on about your end, either. It’s just too cute for words.”

“Thanks, I think. Now how about you tell me where we’re off to so I know why I’m putting up with a burning butt?”

Debbie drove along the lane with a confidence behind the wheel that I was immediately envious of, “I thought,” she told me, “That we could head for the woods up on the ridge. It’s a few miles but at least no one is likely to be about if we head towards the old quarry. You know that place?”

“Good grief, yes. I haven’t been there since I was a little girl, but I used to love it.”

“You’re not exactly a big girl now,” Debbie laughed, briefly taking her left hand off the steering wheel to pinch at my right breast. “But you’re extremely cute.”

I wriggled and giggled, “Careful you!”

“Don’t fret, Dallas, I’m in complete control. I could drive at Le Mans.”

“I wasn’t talking about your driving,” I patted her thigh, “I was just worried someone might see.”

“Ashamed of me already?”

“Stop teasing, and no – I meant we shouldn’t risk upsetting the neighbours.”

“Neighbours?” Debbie laughed, “We haven’t passed a car or a pedestrian since we left the house. And anyway, I think it would be good to be out.”

It hadn’t occurred to me until she said it – a lot of other things had been happening in the last day – but as soon as she said the words out loud it gave me a delighted shiver, “I think I agree. But for now, let’s get to the quarry.”

“I illegal bahis siteleri like the way you’re thinking. The water will be nice and warm.”

“Oh dear,” I said, over-acting for effect, “And there’s me forgetting my swimming costume!”

“Oh dear,” Debbie mimicked, “Me too. I guess we’ll just have to have a skinny dip.”

“What are you suggesting, you naughty thing?”

“Moi? I was merely suggesting me might need to dive into the water totally buck naked,” her voice took on a deeply husky timbre, “And lick each other so much that we scream through multiple orgasms.”

“You know?” I sighed, “I have a feeling that I am going to love your naughty plans almost as much as I love you. Are we there yet?”

Debbie laughed, swinging the car onto the country lane that wound its way up to the ridge a few miles away, “No, but we will be just as soon as I can get this thing there!”

I was pinned back happily in my hot seat as the wind started to blow my hair straight out behind me, and I was beginning to really enjoy the whole ‘car thing’.

I wouldn’t have called myself an expert but I was pretty sure that my new friend’s driving abilities were of the highest quality and despite the obvious speed we were travelling at, the car seemed glued to the road. Bends come and went and straights were a buzz of sheer speed that had me pinned back in my comfortable seat.

I was able to stare at Debbie’s profile as she smiled her way through every manoeuvre, her eyes focused intently on the road ahead of us, her hands moving easily on the wheel or shifting through the gears with a delicate agility that was both impressive and yet completely calm and seemingly unhurried. Her lips were as full as I remembered them from glorious touch and her wide blue eyes sparkled in the brilliance of the sun. I allowed my eyes to wander lower, unashamedly drinking in Debbie’s delicate curves where the seatbelt pulled her dress close across her gentle breasts, and then lower still to where the skirt of the dress rose high across her muscular but slender thighs, its height on her legs promising untold pleasures so very nearly exposed to me.

I looked up at Debbie’s face eventually and saw a smirk rippling around her lips, “Admiring the view?”

I was going to apologise but stopped myself, “Actually, yes. Pardon my French but you are one fucking cute lady.”

I wasn’t sure which of us was more surprised, but Debbie’s peal of laughter sent a glorious thrill through my entire body, and we were both still laughing five minutes later when the car crested a hill where we could see down on the final curves in the road before it rose to the woods and the quarry hidden deep within them.

I stopped laughing and groaned, pointing to a lorry that was at the bottom of the small valley, struggling to turn off the road we were on and into a small lane leading off towards a farmhouse in the distance, “Looks like we’ll be held up before we get to our dipping pool.”

To my surprise Debbie chuckled softly, “Oh yeah. And the one car between us and the back of that lorry is turning round to come back this way already.”

“And that’s a good thing?”

“Put it this way,” Debbie said, accelerating down towards the back of the struggling truck, “It changes my plans a little. But not in a bad way at all.”

“I have a feeling,” I said, “that you’re not telling me something, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

“Very astute, cute one.”

The car that had turned back towards us passed slowly, the driver spinning a finger at his temple before pointing back the way he had come and mouthing something like ‘stupid lorry driver’ to us as we passed.

Debbie slowed as we reached the back of the still struggling truck and then pulled to a standstill just as the grumbling of the engine ahead of us clattered into silence.

She turned to me with a nervy, wicked grin, “I’m thinking that maybe the lorry is stuck for a few minutes.”

“And I’m thinking you were hoping it might take the driver a while to get himself moving again. Does this have anything to with the ‘little changes’ to your plan by any chance?” I wasn’t quite sure where Debbie was headed with this, but my heart was beginning to pound a little faster.

She switched off the Ford’s engine and unclicked her seatbelt, “You know me so well already. Perhaps this stuck truck might give me a lovely chance to introduce you to my naughty outdoor habit.”

“Debbie! We’re in an open top car on a lane that can get real busy, you know?” I was protesting against something I had no real clue about – and had no real meaning behind my protest, either.

“You had the same view from back up the road as any driver coming along will have. They’ll see the road blocked and turn around before coming down this far. And the driver of that hulking blockage will be too busy with his truck to even bother to look this far behind him, not that his mirrors could see any more than maybe the side of the car anyway.”

“So… you mean that even out here canlı bahis siteleri on the open road, we’re not likely to be seen?”

Debbie nodded a smile fluttering around her mouth. “And if that truck driver does decide he’s never going to make the turn and chooses to drive on, we’ll have plenty of warning when he starts his engine again.”

“Is this sort of situation exactly what you like to find yourself in for your own naughty outdoor fun?”

“Oh yes,” she almost purred as she lifted her butt a couple of inches and pulled the hem of her dress up along her legs. She settled back into the driver’s seat, her eyes never leaving mine, then let her right hand drop into her lap, inching the summery dress higher until she could touch the bared flesh between her thighs. “With you here, this feels naughtier and lovelier than ever.” Her eyelids lowered halfway and she let out a soft hiss as I looked down, a gentle gasp of my own issuing from me as I saw her bared pussy being softly stroked.

My own arousal had been hovering as the situation had developed, but now I felt a surge of heat travel up from my toes and to my own womanhood. Without thinking of anything but my sudden heat and need, I copied Debbie’s actions, hoisting my dress up my legs, exposing myself and letting one hand caress my own heat and wetness. “You really are,” I groaned, “the most terribly naughty terror.”

Sitting in the car, stopped out in the middle of the roadway, felt immediately even wilder than being naked in the woods. When Debbie’s left hand settled on my own bared thigh I shivered with delight, and when it moved higher, settling over my suddenly eager, probing fingers I let out a moan of pure joy.

My own free hand found its way into Debbie’s lap and my fingers quickly located her heat and wetness, her pussy already pulsing and moist. Her own hand there switched from caressing herself to pressing my hand tighter against her heat and I felt a glorious shiver course through her.

I spread my thighs wide, no longer caring about where we were, just surrendering to her eager touches. I pushed my groin harder at her hand and quivered as I felt one of her finger’s part my eager lips, “Oh fuck, Debbie, oh yes.”

“I’ve always loved playing like this,” she panted, “but now with your – oh fuck yes – fingers and your beautiful pussy in the game, it’s… perfect!”

“I don’t believe we’re doing this,” I half-laughed, half-groaned, “It’s just so… so…”

“Hot?”

“Oh yeah…” I could feel my passions rising even further, “I just gotta ask… have you ever cum doing this sort of thing?”

“Only once but I have this glorious feeling that could change real soon.”

I glanced in the wing mirror at a delightfully empty road behind us, “Do we dare?”

“Not so sure I’m gonna have much choice if you keep touching me like this.”

“Good,” I managed, “Totally crazy but so good.”

“You know something?” Debbie groaned, “The shoulder straps of my dress are sipping down and I just don’t feel like stopping them.”

I looked across at her chest and realised that her breasts were almost free of the garment. Somehow I managed to grab at the hem of her dress as I continued to gently stroke her divinely wet pussy and I tugged. It was enough to free her large, erect nipples, expose them to the brilliant sunlight. She made no move to cover herself and instead ground herself harder against my hand, her middle finger penetrating me easily and divinely.

I could feel the first swells of climax building deep inside my belly and I began to try to hold the inevitable orgasm at bay, the sight of Debbie’s bared breasts and the feel of her wet heat conspiring to break down any resistance I could offer. When she reached one hand to my own shoulder strap and yanked it down, my right breast slipping free, I couldn’t – didn’t want – to stop her. I wanted her to see my naked flesh, wanted her to keep probing so gloriously inside me, needed to grind my tingling clit against the heel of her hand. I would never have believed I could ever be so blatantly free and sexual, so daring, but right then I was without any volition in the matter. Being daring was intense fun, but sharing with Debbie was mind-blowing. When I felt an enormous tremor ripple through her belly, felt her hips rise against the pressure of my hand, I could feel my own climax begin to swell. I stared at her exposed tits and down to where my fingers probed and caressed her bare pussy, felt her pinch at my nipple and had to choke back a wail of pure joy.

“Oh, Debbie,” I managed, “let’s do this. Let’s do it together.”

“Ain’t no stopping us now, I’m thinking.” She moaned, teeth flashing white in the sunlight, “You’re doing it to me again, Dallas, oh god you’re doing it!”

The first wave of climax washed through her and my own orgasm burst from me. I felt her groin press so hard against my probing fingers even as my own hips thrust against her hand. It was wild, free and so necessary – for both of us. Debbie fell sideways against me and somehow our mouths collided, a kiss sealing the mutual release.

It had all been so fast, so naughty, and our mutual climaxes were just as quick, just as intense. We slumped back into our seats and for some reason covered ourselves quickly but comfortably, laughing now.

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How I Learned to be Proud of My Breasts

Background: The Trainer

I hate men, passionately. They’re hairy, ugly, and all too often, dirty. I can’t stand the feel of their stupid faces against my skin. They’re either unshaven, therefore tickle, or poorly shaven, therefore scratch. Their bodies are hairy and ugly and misshapen, too. They have no soft places to kiss and caress, unless they are disgustingly fat and wobble when they walk. Their sex organs are downright ugly, slightly reminiscent of crocket mallets waiting to pound on something. Their scrota resemble those stress-exercise balls used to firm up one’s grip. That actually is one pleasant image, grasping their balls in one hand and squeezing, squeezing, squeezing as hard as possible.

However, I am a romantic, and a somewhat attractive woman, though I do wear “a few extra pounds” here and there. I enjoy sex, even if only at the behest of a vibrator. I try to limit orgasms to one per day, though I have occasionally exceeded this goal. Every time, I do imagine the feel of a man inside me, filling me, stimulating me.

Since my early twenties, I’ve presented myself as a male. I wear my hair short, not a buzz cut but about an inch long. This leaves me with no hassles involving tangles or combs or brushes. Ten seconds is enough to ensure my hair is completely in place. I do not wear makeup. I hate makeup. It’s gooey and smelly and never goes in the right places, based on the few times I tried it as a teenager. I do not wear nail polish. It’s even smellier, and loves to climb onto my cuticles and skin. I do not wear jewelry, except for one garnet necklace given to me by a close friend. I especially do not wear earrings, for the thought of poking holes in my body gives me the shivers. I dress in sweatshirts and hoodies one size too large, along with plain old denims and tennis shoes, to hide my curves as well as I can. I do wear bras, usually sports bras one size too small so they compress my admittedly generous breasts against my chest. And my panties are as plain as can be, gray cotton things. I do find my monthly maintenance chores to be annoying, but push through them as quickly as possible.

So, in short, I make believe I am a man, trapped in a woman’s body. Though my given name is Margaret, I accept, gladly, the nickname of Bobbie. I’ve been doing this for twenty years, and I am happy. I have no desire to change.

This has led to some stress at work and with family. Men, against all reason, ask me out for dates. “No way” is the most polite answer I offer, when I’m in a good mood. Women wonder if I’m gay, and glance at me when they think I’m not looking. Maybe I am, I sometimes think, then banish the thought. My siblings often ask annoying questions about my love life, and get nothing but a glare in return.

At one office holiday party, I did get a wee bit drunk. I’m sure I could have stood up if I really tried, but I didn’t want to try. One of my co-workers, I forget who, got into a discussion of gender-bending stuff, like “should boys who feel like girls be allowed to use girls’ bathrooms at school?” I didn’t pay much attention, for the whole topic seemed silly (boys are boys, just see if anything’s hanging between their legs) and I had a hard time following the discussion. But I do recall someone mentioning “The Trainer”, as a friendly expert on gender stuff.

A few nights later, with nothing else to do, I got to thinking about my gender preferences. It dawned on me that maybe not everything was aligned as well as it could be. Up came Google, with a search for “The Trainer”. After the inevitable movies and plays and other garbage, I did find a reference to a woman in my area whose web site offered “private consultations about one’s role in the modern sexual marketplace”. I know, this is not impressive, but I did give in to an unexpected urge to make contact. I sent an email from a semi-anonymous account to The Trainer. It contained a variation of the summary I’ve presented here, along with my pointed question of the form “So what can you do for me?”

She responded quickly and very politely. She admitted that she’d need to meet me to properly answer my question. She added some detail, stating that her goal was to help people find comfort in themselves, acknowledging reality and shedding pretense. Her preferred method was role-playing. She’d meet with a client, work out a way to experiment, with an emphasis on emotional safety, with different presentations. She was clear that she is not prescriptive and she is non-judgmental. Her only goal is to find the most comfortable self-image for her students.

Normally I avoid feel-good advisors who only feel good when they receive a check from me. But The Trainer seemed more sincere, and more humble, than other quacks I’ve encountered. I decided to give her a chance, just one.

I made an appointment to visit her the next Wednesday, from noon to 5PM.

Preparation: Making the Plan

I showed up at The Trainer’s apartment precisely at noon. She let me in, and immediately offered illegal bahis me a seat and a cup of tea. She was a mature and rather dowdy woman, but clearly energetic and intelligent. Her apartment was small, containing a single living/dining room and a hall leading to a bathroom and, I assumed, a bedroom. Two cats lounged on the floor, but seemed quite elderly, as they barely moved when I entered.

We talked about innocuous things as we got to know one another. We both hate sports, and the men they attract. We both enjoy history and music, though I’m more into engineering, and she into art. It was easy to open up to her, for she was quite open with me.

Then we got down to business. She clearly understood that I visualize myself as a man, biology notwithstanding, and am happy with that. She was very supportive of this, emphasizing that one should find a role in which one feels comfortable, and stick with it, regardless of outside opinion. She even asserted that I was handsome, though I wrote this off as the kind of pandering that comes with professional client relations.

The crux came when she asked me what alternative roles I had considered. I blushed. I do have a secret fantasy. So secret it’s known only to me. I thought long and hard about whether I should reveal it to her. She waited, silently, knowing that I was struggling internally. She was patient. She seemed sincerely interested in my thoughts. I gave in.

“I do sometimes wonder what it would be like to live life as a real woman, provided we could get rid of all the men”, was my current thought. “I don’t think I want to be a lesbian, but I do sometimes wonder what it would be like to be Cinderella – without Prince Charming.”

She was silent. I was silent. We looked at each other, and she smiled a bit and nodded slightly. “I know exactly what you mean” she spoke, softly. I believed her.

“Would you be interested in a simple experiment to help clarify your feelings?” she asked.

“What kind of experiment?” I wondered. I liked her, but was not about to yield control to her.

“Let’s just go for a ride. Go to a mall, perhaps. Let’s find a place not far from here, but where you won’t be known. In the process, let’s do some simple role-playing. Let’s just fix you up to be a bit more feminine, and see how you feel about it.”

“What do you mean by fixing me up?” I had to know.

“I suggest we keep things simple. I can put some light makeup on you. I can loan you a simple wig, not big and long, but something down to your shoulders, perhaps. I have some discrete jewelry. But mostly, let’s show off your breasts a bit more.”

I was seriously taken aback, especially by her final clause. Repeat: I don’t like makeup. Repeat: I don’t like long hair. Repeat: I don’t like jewelry. Repeat: I don’t want other people staring at my breasts. But I do like having breasts, and sometimes, late at night, I stand in front of a mirror and…whatever.

However, I did feel a surge of interest, maybe even excitement. A warm feeling grew in my crotch. Something sexually significant began. I became modestly aroused, and this does not happen outside my bedroom.

“Think about it for a few minutes”, said The Trainer.

I did. I imagined walking down the aisle of one of the nearby malls. I imagined wearing those self-forbidden items: makeup, earrings, bracelets, and wig. I especially imagined allowing my breasts to show. The warmth spread. Arousal grew. I went further, and imagined adopting the arched-back posture used by exotic women, pulling my shoulders back and pushing my breasts forward. My breath caught in my throat. I wanted to do this, to let myself go, to appear as a woman, sensual, erotic. Damn the men. I formed the idea of competing with other women: “Mine are bigger than yours, now what do you say?”

To this day, I don’t know what I desired more at that instant: a climax, or to go on with The Trainer’s expedition. I was so aroused that judgment failed me. I acceded to her suggestion.

But then cold feet set in. I wondered why I should bother at all with this silly idea. I was sure no good would come of it, and the next day I would simply revert to my normal, comfortable life. Why take any risk at all? I still didn’t know The Trainer very well, though I was beginning to like her. Besides, I’m happy being male, at least in concept.

Fortunately, it was winter. I could contemplate a compromise: I could wear my winter coat, which I had left in my car. This would hide my breasts, to some extent, if things became to embarrassing. I did not want men to be glaring at me, under any circumstances.

Also, I wanted an escape path. I didn’t want to give The Trainer more control than necessary, but I did think her presence could give me confidence. I asked her for a piece of paper and pen, and scribbled out the following caveats:

1. I wear the entire setup, including my winter coat, as we leave your home, and I drive us to the Mall

2. We walk into the Mall, and promenade around it, with my coat buttoned, window-shopping, as I adjust to the wig, makeup and illegal bahis siteleri jewelry

3. You signal me to unbutton my coat, revealing the shape of my breasts, and we continue walking

4. We find a seat in the Food Court, and you signal me to remove my coat entirely, exposing the shape of my breasts to all who would look

5. After some time, we resume our walk, with me carrying my coat on my arm, again window-shopping, breasts clearly on display

6. If the weather permits, we return to the car, you unlock it and tell me to put my coat in it, then we return to the mall, removing the psychological safety net that the coat had provided

7. We continue our promenade, and as we pass each store, you ask me to identify an item we might examine in each one

8. You select one store for us to enter and contemplate a purchase, where I must talk with a sales person (preferably female), my breasts directly in front of her.

The Trainer took no issue with these suggestions. We had a plan.

Transformation: From Bobbie to Maggie

The Trainer took charge. “Stay here, I’ll be right back”. Sure enough, a few minutes later she returned, arms full of stuff.

“Let’s start with the basics. Take off your sweatshirt, please.” This gave me no pause, as my sports bra is a very utilitarian thing, not likely to excite anyone, especially The Trainer.

“Thank you. Now, here’s a more appealing bra. Put it on. Would you like me to leave while you do so?” This was an interesting combination of authority and sensitivity. Again, I gave in.

“No, you may stay, of course.” I examined the bra she had given me. It was lacy, but well constructed, as the back panel included four clasps. It also had an underwire, the purpose of which I had long forgotten. I put it on, and almost gasped. I discovered the reason for the underwire, as it rounded my breasts. Being of the proper size, the cups forced them to protrude more than I’d ever experienced. The lace was semi-transparent, and my nipples showed clearly, both in color and in shape. I looked bustier than I ever had. I did not enjoy the concept. I do not show off my breasts. Yet here, I did. Something again stirred between my legs.

The Trainer said nothing. She handed me a turquoise knit sweater, obviously wishing me to put it on. I did. It covered the bra, and hid the color of my nipples, but not their shape. I protruded. They protruded. I felt as though an alien had overtaken my body. Unconsciously, I arched my back, slightly. I protruded more. I became more aroused. My nipples protruded more. This was not me! But it was fun.

She handed me a wig. I somehow figured out how to pull it over my short-cropped hair. It fit snuggly. As promised, it was not too long, not quite coming down to my shoulders, with bangs almost reaching my eyebrows. She pulled out a comb, combed the wig quickly, and then stepped back.

“Go into the bathroom, and take a look at yourself.” I did. I gasped, for real. For that was not me in the mirror. It was a busty woman, with simple yet feminine hair. Was I that woman? “Put these on”, she said, handing me a pair of dangly, somewhat tacky, earrings. The pressure of the clips on my ear lobes was quite surprising. “Turn and look at me” was her next instruction. I did, and she deftly dabbed eye shadow, eyebrow pencil, and lipstick on me. “Look again.” I did, and could not believe the transformation. At least from the waist up, I was no longer my own comfortable tomboy. I was a full-fledged woman. It made me very, very uncomfortable, for this was an entirely unfamiliar concept. It was arousing, though, for inexplicable reasons. “Tell me what you see.”

“I see a woman, a real woman. She is not me. I would be embarrassed to be seen like this in any other circumstances. I am embarrassed now. I do not want to be this woman. She defies major parts of my personal self-image. Let’s stop.”

“Can we compromise, and just take a break? Please, come take a seat in the living room?” She led the way, and I followed. Somehow I had fallen into a subservient role, accepting her suggestions, though still feeling free to offer my own opinions. She offered, and produced, another cup of tea. It was Earl Gray, I think.

“This is just a role-playing experiment. I’m not trying to change you at all. You will be the same person tomorrow morning as you were when you woke up this morning. The only thing that will change is your experience. Please, stay with me, let’s do this, so you can go home knowing, in more detail, what you’ve chosen not to include in your self-image, yet.”

I remained silent. She had a good point. Her offer was to try something new, like bocce or skydiving. I would not change. Or if I did change, it would be my choice to do so. I would be embarrassed in the process, just as if I were to take up bocce, having no skill in it. I would learn something, though, and I do appreciate the value of learning. “Ok.”

We left her apartment, and walked to my car. Nobody was in the hallway, so nobody saw me. We got to the car, opened it, and canlı bahis siteleri I immediately put on my winter coat. I almost never wear it, because it has a somewhat feminine cut and fur collar, but now it served as a savior. Buttoned tightly, it effectively hid my breasts. I again felt comfortable. I didn’t even think about the other parts of my transformation. I relaxed.

However, I could not escape the realization that I was no longer Bobbie. I was back to being Margaret, or perhaps Maggie.

Experience: At the Mall

We headed to the mall, and I concentrated on driving, nothing else. I focused my attention on traffic, signals, and other wild and dangerous drivers. She chatted about her cats, the decorations in her apartment, and her enthusiasm for medieval English history. No thoughts of the coming activity complicated our thinking.

We arrived at the mall, and I parked somewhat near one of the main entrances. Feigning nonchalance, I got out, sure that the coat was completely buttoned. I helped The Trainer out of her side, locked the car, and we proceeded to the mall entrance.

Somewhere between the car and the entrance, it hit me. I was now a different person. I had long hair. I was wearing makeup. I was wearing earrings. And despite my self-delusion, my breast-mounds clearly filled out my coat in a way I’d not experienced in many, many years. I was Maggie. I was exhibiting femininity, not hiding it. The Trainer was silent at my side, inscrutable, letting me come to grips with the new reality.

As we approached the door, two or three scruffy men stood outside. They were smoking, and they were gaping. They weren’t gaping at The Teacher, since she was dressed very conventionally, and comported herself with a deliberately lackluster demeanor. No, they were gaping at me. To them, I was a well-made-up busty woman, despite the jeans and sneakers, and they barely restrained their leers. Embarrassed though I was, I held their eyes, knowing that this would increase their interest, but refusing to be intimidated by them.

We got to the door, and went inside. We entered on the second floor. A short way ahead of us was an escalator down to the first floor. We were in a light, airy lobby, and I felt as though I had just stepped on stage. Everyone in the lobby could see Maggie, even though I was not really Maggie.

At the base of the escalator, two mall handcart vendors accosted us. “Hello, ladies, would you like some mumbledygook?”. I didn’t even pay attention to what they were selling. I instinctively don’t like being called a lady, for I am Bobbie, and I am a male. Except then, I was not Bobbie, I was Maggie, and I was female. I became very confused.

The Trainer led us into a gem shop. It was very nicely set up, with sales staff that clearly valued customers. One saleswoman came over to me, and asked about what I was interested. At any other time, this would have been a pleasant experience. But now, The Teacher had brought us directly to the 8th step of the 8 step way I had insisted upon, and I became severely disoriented.

Here I was, big-busted woman with breasts enhanced by an underwire bra, wearing makeup, earrings, and long hair. This image was far from the masculine Bobbie to which I was accustomed. I put my hands deep into my pockets. I hunched over to hide my breasts. I shifted my shoulders up so that my coat collar would cover my neck. I tried to hide. The Trainer ignored me, pleasantly gabbing about this and that. I left the store, found a corner in which to stand, and pretended to be invisible.

Eventually The Trainer emerged from the shop. She immediately recognized my distress. She led me over to a set of chairs in the lobby through which we had entered, and gestured to me to sit down. “What’s wrong?” she asked, kindly.

“I wanted to ease into this situation. I provided you with a list of incremental steps by which we could do this. You took us right to the end of the list. I am feeling extremely uncomfortable. I simply do not know how to comport myself when I’m in this position.” Those were the nice words. The less nice thoughts included no small amount of anger, for I felt she had violated the implicit compact we had made when she accepted my amendment to her plan.

“You are absolutely right. I got carried away. I am so sorry. Would you like to go home now, or figure out a way to proceed?” Such compassion and humility surprised me. Anger fled. Now that I was in her scene, I did want to go forward. But I wanted to slow down.

“There’s a food court in front of us. Can we find someplace to sit, as far out of sight as possible?” I asked.

“Sure, that’s a good idea”, she said. “Lead the way.”

I led us to a half-booth near the ground floor entrance. She offered to get us slices of pizza and soft drinks. I acceded, and she went off to do so. Left alone, I thought about my situation. The good news was that I was in a position where I really could try on a new personality. The bad news was that it was one with which I was completely unfamiliar, and therefore completely lacking in self-confidence. An interesting element of fun remained, however. I was a new person, Maggie. I could project a distinctly feminine image. And with The Trainer’s support, I could readily avoid normal irritations. I resolved to try, but at my own pace.

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Darla sat cross-legged, watching television as she folded clothes. Her brothers were playing basketball outside in the driveway. She could hear the thud of the ball as they dribbled up and down in front of the basket hung on the garage. She glanced at the clock, then put down the T-shirt she had been folding. It was time to get them in for supper. Papa would be home soon and she wanted everything to be ready when he arrived. Since their mother had left ten years earlier, Darla had taken on the duties of cook, housekeeper and babysitter.

Looking out the backdoor at her brothers, it was now hard to imagine them ever being that small. Danny was 19 and the image of Papa. Derrick was 20 and a junior at college. Both boys lived at home. Papa wanted it that way. He wanted his kids close by him all the time. Darla called to the boys to come to supper. They dutifully left the basketball and walked toward the backdoor. They had always been obedient, polite boys but with an air of mischief. As Danny walked in, he slapped Darla on the rump and ran into the kitchen. Darla ran after him, catching up to him at the refrigerator. She reached up and ruffled his blond curly hair. He grinned at her and leaned down to kiss her cheek. Derrick walked up behind her and kissed her other cheek. Darla felt flush. The boys had always been very affectionate, but she was shy and it made her uncomfortable. Her blushing face was too irresistible for the boys, so they both kissed her again. Darla shooed them away to go wash their hands. “Papa will be home on a few minutes. Go get yourselves decent for the supper table.” Both of her brothers wandered off to wash up.

Darla was humming softly, filling dishes with the evening’s meal. She was an excellent cook. The aroma of fresh baked bread and pot roast filled the kitchen. “Smells wonderful, Darla.” Papa had walked into the kitchen and had quietly stole up behind his beautiful daughter. She turned and kissed him to welcome him home. His lips lightly touched hers and he put his arm around her waist. “How was your day?” Darla sat a plate in front of her father as he took his place at the table. “It was great. Everything has gone so well today. I have all my work done.” He smiled approval at the sparkling clean home. “You work so hard to make a nice home for us all. I am very proud of you. And I haven’t forgotten your special day. I have a birthday surprise for you later.” Darla smiled at her Papa. He never forgot a birthday. He was the greatest Papa in the world.

The boys joined them at the table. “Happy 23rd birthday, Darla!” The boys shouted in unison, then laughed. Darla giggled at her brothers. “Papa has a surprise for me!”

“We güvenilir bahis know. We know what it is, too.” Danny stuck his tongue out at her, just like when he was a little boy. She giggled again. She was excited and anxious about her surprise. She couldn’t wait. Papa noticed how she wiggled in her chair. He watched her twisting back and forth as she ate her dinner. “Sit still, child. Your surprise is coming right after we eat.”

After they had all finished eating, Darla got up to do dishes. But the boys took her by the hand and walked her into the living room. “Not tonight, dear sister.” Again they spoke in unison. She smiled at them and let them lead her into the living room. Papa was in his chair, waiting for them. “Well, Darla you are all grown up dear. I can hardly believe you are my little girl when I look at you. You have blossomed into a beautiful woman. I want you to know I am proud of you.” Darla blushed at her father’s words. “I guess you want your surprise now?” Darla nodded “Yes, please.” Papa looked at his two boys, who sat on the floor beside Darla’s chair. He winked at Derrick, then at Danny. Danny smiled back at him. The boys exchanged and glance and then looked up at Darla. Mischief again danced in their eyes. Darla felt a bit nervous. What were they up to?

Papa crossed his legs and leaned back in his chair. He pulled out his pipe and lit it. He looked again at the boys. He drew a deep breath and then nodded to them. Before Darla knew what was happening, the boys were grabbing her and pulling her to the floor. She was startled and let out a yelp. Danny covered her mouth with his. His tongue plunged deep into her mouth, probing and tasting. Derrick was holding her down to the floor. She started to fight them. She wanted to yell, but couldn’t. She felt helpless in their grasp. Danny pulled away from her and smiled an evil smile.

He and Derrick started pull her dress up, revealing her white panties. She looked over at Papa, who was smiling at the event. “Just lay there a let them do it, Darla. Trust Papa. All you women are sluts at heart. Look at your mom. I know you all want cock. I’m giving you what you want. But this way, you won’t leave like she did. She went out to chase cock. We’re going to show you that you have all the cock you need here.” Papa continued to watch the boys as they slide off Darla’s panties. She didn’t protest any longer. Papa had said to lay still and she did just that. He was always right.

Danny put his fingers on her pussy lips, rubbing them lightly. She felt a tingle of excitement. She looked up at the ceiling, not sure of what to do. Derrick leaned over her body and began unbuttoning her dress. He unhooked türkçe bahis the front hook bra and began to rub her tits. He licked one nipple and pinched the other with his fingers. She heard herself moan. It felt good. She felt Danny’s fingers slide into her pussy. She felt the wet lips give way to his fingers and again moaned. Derrick began to bite her nipple and pinched harder. Darla moaned louder. Danny leaned over her and pushed his face into her wet cunt. He started licking and sucking on her lips and clit. Darla reached out and grabbed his hair, pulling him in closer. Derrick pulled back from her tits and unzipped his pants. He pulled his cock out and rubbed the hard dick against her face. Darla turned away at first.

Derrick grabbed her face and turned her back toward the waiting cock. He forced it into her mouth, and began fucking her mouth. Darla tried to pull away but felt a slap on her thigh. Papa had moved over to her. He looked at her sternly and she stopped struggling. Derrick began to fuck her mouth faster. She tasted his cock and liked the feel of the precum on her tongue. She started to suck instinctively. Danny was now watching Derrick and his sister. He wanted some of that action. He crawled up to Darla’s head and turned it to his dick. He pushed it inside her mouth and fucked her hard. Danny was masturbating as he watched. Darla turned her head toward Derrick and put her hand up for him. Danny fucked her mouth while she masturbated Derrick.

Papa watched his children at play. “Good, good. Fuck her mouth, Danny. Derrick, fuck her hand. Get ready to cum. I want to see that semen shoot out on her tits. I want to see her covered in cum. Darla didn’t know why, but she was even more excited by knowing Papa was watching. She was moaning and sucking, fondling the other cock with her hand. Both boys pulled out at the same time, aiming the rock hard cocks at her tits. Cum shot out of their cocks, landing on her tits and her belly. She moaned again as the warm fluid covered her body. Danny and Derrick emptied out their load on her and then sat back on the floor.

Papa stared at the body of his lovely daughter. He smiled at the glistening cum on her tits. He looked over at his boys and gave them another instruction. “Strip her naked. I want to see that ass of hers.” The boys willing complied with the command. Darla lay there as they ripped her clothes from her. They rolled her over onto her tummy, exposing the soft ass to Papa. “Time for a birthday spanking, boys.” Danny and Derrick took turns spanking their sister’s ass. They counted off twenty-three slaps and then each slapped an ass cheek as they counted “one to grow on”.

She wiggled güvenilir bahis siteleri under their spanking, but then begged for more. Danny and Derrick looked up at Papa, who nodded agreement. They spanked and spanked Darla as she shouted for more. Papa looked with glee as Darla’s ass began to glow red. He kneeled down between her legs and watched the hands spanking and the flesh of her cheeks wiggle. “That’s enough, boys. Move over to the couch now. Papa has some things he wants to do to birthday girl.”

Derrick and Danny sat on the couch and watched at Papa pulled out his stiff cock. It was huge. Danny and Derrick were well endowed, but nothing to compare with the cock Papa produced. Papa dangled the cock above her ass, touching the tip to her cheeks. He stuck his fingers up her pussy, feeling the wetness. She moaned as he began to fuck her virgin cunt with his fingers. “Hold on, baby. You’re going to hide this cock in that tight pussy. Papa lay on top of her and grabbed her hips. He tilted her hips a bit and rubbed his cock against her lips to get it wet.

Without any further movement, he rammed the full length of his 11″ deep into the tight pussy of his daughter. Darla let out a yell as she felt the monster cock plunge into her virgin pussy. Papa reached around and put his hand over her mouth. He rammed her harder and harder, fucking her as deep as he could force his dick in her. He held her mouth tightly shut, but she was still heard by her brothers. Derrick leaned over on the couch and called to Papa “Fuck her hard. Make her cum, Papa. Fuck her so hard she can’t take it!” Papa was fucking his daughter like streetwalker. He wanted her to feel what real cock could do to her. He felt her body shake and tremble as he fucked her. He felt his cock throb and knew he was ready to cum. “Not yet. Not the pussy this time.” Papa whirled her over on her back and forced the cock into her mouth as he shot his load down her throat. “Suck it all, baby. Suck every drop. That’s daddy’s little girl.” Darla swallowed and swallowed all she could. She felt cum dripping down her chin and onto her tits. She thought he would never stop.

Papa stood up, looking at his daughter. He smiled at her. She was beautiful with cum dripping down her chin. He looked over at his boys, who were rubbing their hard cocks as they watched the fucking. “Want more?” He asked his sons. Both boys nodded, ready to fuck their sister. Papa winked at them and they dove off the couch onto Darla’s naked body. Derrick forced his cock into her ass, then rolled her on top of him. Danny plunged into her pussy and both boys fucked their sister. Darla moaned and begged for more. They fucked her while Papa watched, happy that his children enjoyed the time together. He sat on the chair and watched them as they rolled around on the floor, exploring new positions, fucking and sucking each other. Papa smiled. It had been a great birthday for his daughter.

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Author’s Note: This story first appeared in slightly different form back in 1996. I’ve always wanted to take another crack at it and since it wasn’t included in my original postings to Literotica, here goes.

*****

A sudden flash of lightning filled the small cabin, causing the transistor radio on the table to momentarily crackle with static. A few seconds later, the early summer night was filled with a resounding crash as the sound of the thunderclap caught up with the light. The storm had been raging for a little over two hours, alternating between violent crashes in the sky and the steady patter of rain against the windows.

“That was a good one!” Robyn Grayson exclaimed as she clapped in appreciation of the sudden illumination.

“You wouldn’t think that if we were out there on the lake,” Valerie Carter replied as she pointed out the large bay windows to the large body of water beyond.

“But we’re not, are we?” Robyn retorted with an exaggerated pout. “Sometimes you can be such a worrier.”

“One of us has to be,” Valerie said, “or at least have common sense. Otherwise you’d probably have us out there on the lake because you’d get a better view.”

“Hey, now that’s an idea,” Robyn said in mock seriousness. “We could take one of the boats down by the dock and …”

“Don’t even think it,” Valerie said, cutting her off in mid-sentence.

Both girls then broke out into laughter.

All in all, watching the storm and snacking on munchies and a bottle of wine that they’d liberated from the liquor cabinet wasn’t the worst way the two of them could spend the night. Of course, it wasn’t what they had in mind when they’d come up to the lake two days ago, but nature had a way of interrupting the best laid plans.

Robyn Grayson and Valerie Carter had been best friends for fourteen of their nineteen years, ever since they’d met on the first day of kindergarten. Back then, they’d both been pudgy little girls more interested in games and dolls than anything else. With slight variations, that had continued right up until they’d begun to hit puberty.

In Robyn’s case, early womanhood had sprung upon her with a vengeance. She lost all her baby fat, and over the course of a long summer, went through a growth spurt that saw her fill up and out at the same time. She’d returned to school that fall no longer as the semi-plump tomboy that people remembered, but as an attractive young lady with a figure that began to draw boys’ attention like moths to a candle. It was also over that summer that she finally gave in to her mother’s insistence and let her dark hair grow out, replacing the almost boyish cut she’d previously preferred.

Valerie had also begun to fill out that summer, but unlike Robyn she lost little of her childhood fat. In fact, with the addition of a few inches to her height also came more than a few unwanted pounds. When she’d weighed herself a few days previously, the scale put Valerie at a hundred and fifty-one pounds. Her only saving grace was that her body weight was spread pretty evenly, giving her a mature, full-figured look, including a quite substantial bust.

Regardless of those physical changes, both girls had continued to remain steadfast friends. They’d seen too many friendships fall apart when one friend became part of the popular crowd and no longer had time for the other who hadn’t been similarly accepted. Robyn did indeed become part of the in crowd, a cheerleader and the girlfriend of the quarterback. But she made it clear to anyone who even suggested that it would look better if she ‘dropped’ Val, that the crowd, the cheerleaders and even the quarterback would fall by the wayside before her friendship with Valerie did.

In actuality, it hadn’t been Robyn’s rise in prominence that required the biggest adjustment in their friendship, but Valerie’s. Between the two of them, Valerie had always been the smarter of the two, at least as far as books were concerned. A constant presence on the honor roll, the short haired blonde had qualified for a full scholarship at Northern State, where she had been enrolled since last fall. Robyn, who’d graduated high school with less than full honors, had declined higher education in favor of joining the local work force.

Valerie had been home only a few days when her mother announced that they were going up to Morning Rock Lake to spend the week at their grandfather’s cabin, while he and Valerie’s father replaced the heating and air conditioning system in the house. Wouldn’t it be nice, Mae Carter had further said, if Valerie invited Robyn to come with them? It would give the two of them a chance to catch up on the six months since they’d last seen each other.

The first days of the trip had been pretty routine, just some swimming in the lake, a little boating and a barbecue with the neighbors. Then, this afternoon, Val’s fourteen-year-old brother, Bobby, had taken a fall and twisted his ankle while climbing a tree. It had swollen up pretty good and Mae thought it a good idea to güvenilir canlı bahis siteleri take him into town to have it x-rayed, just to be sure it wasn’t more serious. There was no need, she said, for the girls to interrupt their vacation. After all, she and Bobby would be back in a few hours – they’d hardly notice they were even gone.

The wait in the small hospital turned out to be longer than Mae had expected, and by the time they were finished, the thunderstorm had made driving on the old country roads an iffy proposition. The safe bet, she decided, was to stay in town overnight. So, she’d called the girls and told them that all Bobby had was indeed a sprain and that they’d be back in the morning. The girls said not to worry, the two of them would be fine on their own.

-=-=-=-

“I bet you wished you’d stayed home this weekend,” Valerie said as, sitting on one end of the couch, she drained the last of the wine from her glass.

“I don’t know, this is kind of fun.” Robyn, sitting on the other end, replied as she quickly refilled Val’s glass before topping off her own.

“More fun than Sally Kellerman’s Summer Bash?” Valerie countered as she looked at the now empty wine bottle. It seemed like they’d just opened it. “That was tonight, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Robyn said in an unconvincing tone, “but I really wasn’t planning to go anyway.”

“The biggest social event of 1978, filled with the most popular people in school, and you were just going to stay home and do your nails,” Val laughed. “If my mom hadn’t waited until we were already up here before mentioning it, I’d never have invited you to come along. It wasn’t fair to put you on the spot, having to make you choose between coming up here with us and going to Sally’s party. It’s not like I’d have been angry if you wanted to go to the party instead.”

“I really mean it; I wasn’t planning to go,” Robyn insisted.

“You know, I almost believe you,” Valerie said.

“I’ve grown up a lot in the nine months you’ve been gone,” Robyn said. “Enough to realize what stupid assholes some of those people really are.”

“Well, what do you know?” Valerie laughed, “There is a brain in that pretty head of yours after all. I wondered if you’d ever open your mouth and speak up.”

“Go to hell!” Robyn shot back in mock anger. “There are a lot of times I open my mouth.”

“True,” Valerie smiled, “but most of those times it’s usually liplocked onto some dumb jock.”

“Oh, how sharp the tongue of a friend,” Robyn retorted, now laughing as well.

“Speaking of heads and sharp tongues, maybe we should go a little easy on this stuff,” Valerie suggested as she indicated the glasses they both held. “Wouldn’t do to have mom come back and find us sloshed.”

“You worry too much.” Robyn said. “By the time she gets back tomorrow, we’ll have had a good night’s sleep and be fine.”

“Today, you mean,” Valerie corrected as she looked at the large clock on the fireplace mantle and noted that it was one in the morning.

“Whatever …” Robyn said, taking another drink from her glass.

Deciding that perhaps her friend did have a point, Valerie took another sip from her own glass as well.

“This new asshole category,” Valerie asked as she lowered her glass. “Does that include Brian Ward?”

Brian Ward, former quarterback of the high school football team, had been Robyn’s on again off again boyfriend for the last two years.

“Brian, it turns out, is both a prick and an asshole,” Robyn replied, a clear disdain in her voice. “It turns out that even after we got back together, he was still getting blow jobs and sometimes more from both Jenny Davis and Helen Myers.”

“And that would’ve been on the nights that you were seeing someone else?” Valerie asked.

“Yes, I mean, that was different…” Robyn stuttered. “I mean, who told you that?”

“No one had to tell me, Robyn,” Valerie smiled. “I’ve just known you too long.”

“What about you?” Robyn asked as she changed the subject. “You haven’t said one word about the guys at State. I’ve known you a long time too, and you can’t tell me that you’ve been celibate all this time.”

While Valerie hadn’t had Robyn’s experience with boys, she was hardly a virgin. There had always been guys who saw that she was cute in her own way as well as those who would prefer to date a girl whose idea of an intelligent conversation involved more than the latest fashions or celebrity gossip. That and the desire to get a really good look at the big boobs that filled out whatever Valerie happened to be wearing. Jocks, nerds, or somewhere in between, guys were still guys.

“Well, I’ve been really busy these past few months,” Valerie said, looking more than just a little uncomfortable. “College course are a lot harder than high school.”

“Bullshit!” Robyn replied. “I could always tell when you’re lying, Val, so you might as well tell me. You know that you’re going to do that in the end anyway.”

“Well güvenilir illegal bahis siteleri … actually …” Valerie hesitated, she was finding it hard to say the words that floated unbidden in her mind.

“Come on, Val, we’re never had secrets from each other,” Robyn insisted, “no matter what they were. Remember that night I fucked Mr. Peterson; didn’t I share that with you?”

Valerie remembered all too well how excited Robyn had been when she called Val’s private line one night, well after midnight, telling her that she’d just done it with Robert Peterson, the thirty-five-year-old manager of the local Burger Barn. Even today, Valerie still wondered why Peterson, who had a quite attractive and younger wife, had taken the risk of sleeping with an employee almost young enough to be his daughter. Why Robyn had done it held little mystery. She had already slept with a few boys; now she wanted to see what it was like to be fucked by a man.

“I remember,” Valerie answered quietly, staring out into the darkness beyond the window where the storm had finally subsided. At least the storm out there.

“So, you know you can trust me. Come on, Val,” Robyn insisted.

Valerie turned her gaze from the darkness back to her oldest friend. She could see in her hungry eyes that she wasn’t going to stop until she knew. Still, the words wouldn’t come.

“Is it a teacher, or a professor, isn’t that what you call them?” Robyn asked. “Are you sleeping with one of them?”

“No,” Valerie simply replied.

“Is it someone that’s married?” Robyn quickly continued.

“No,” Valerie repeated.

“See, so it can’t be as big a secret as what I shared with you,” Robyn said, as if that should’ve made it easier to say.

Valerie stood up and walked over by the window, staring at her reflection. She ran a hand through her short hair and sighed. It had been a long day and the need for sleep and the wine were beginning to be felt.

“Robyn, why don’t we just drop this and get some sleep,” Valerie suggested.

“Because I want to know, that’s why,” Robyn said. “I want to know what it is that you don’t think you can share with someone who’s been your friend since we were five years old?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Valerie replied.

“What wouldn’t I understand?” came Robyn’s reply. “A guy’s a guy. God knows I’ve slept with a few assholes. So, what’s the …”

Robyn suddenly paused in mid-sentence. She brought her hand up to her still opened mouth in surprise. The reason Valerie didn’t want to talk about it suddenly seemed crystal clear.

“Oh shit,” she exclaimed. “He’s black, isn’t he? What’s are your parents going to do when they find out?”

Valerie shook her head. It was bad enough that Robyn couldn’t let the matter drop; now she had to let her small-town prejudices create some non-existent scenario.

“No, he’s not black, or brown, or yellow, or for that matter white,” Valerie finally answered, suddenly no longer caring how her friend might react. “If you really, really have to know – it’s not a guy at all!

-=-=-=-

A pregnant silence filled the cabin as Robyn found herself totally speechless for the first time in her life. It had taken her a few seconds to understand Valerie’s answer, but once she did, it had taken her back like nothing ever had before.

Viewing the expression on Robyn’s face, Valerie was certain that she’d just flushed a fourteen-year friendship down the proverbial toilet. And the thing that surprised her was, she really didn’t care. Not if the cost of keeping that friendship was denying herself and who she was. She was tired of lying, and if Robyn couldn’t handle the truth, well then, maybe their friendship had never been as strong as they’d thought in the first place.

“What’s her name?” Robyn asked.

“What?” Val asked, not actually hearing Robyn.

“I said, what’s her name?” Robyn repeated. “Your girlfriend, or am I supposed to call her your lover?”

“Whatever you’re the most comfortable with,” Valerie finally responded, surprised at her friend’s calm reaction. “Her name is Beth Moskowitz.”

The name called forth the image of a tall, dark eyed girl that Robyn remembered meeting the weekend she’d taken the bus up to State to visit Valerie and take a look at the school. There had been a number of people that Valerie had presented her to over the three days she was there, but for some reason, Beth had stood out. Now Robyn realized it had been because of the glow on Valerie’s face when she had introduced her.

“I remember her,” Robyn said. “She’s very pretty.”

“Thanks,” Val answered, unsure what else to say, “but it’s already over between us. Beth wants someone who can be out in the open about our relationship. I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”

“I’m sorry,” Robyn offered, her voice clearly reflecting genuine sympathy. “You want to talk about it?”

It had been a good long time since the two women had really sat down and had such an intimate güvenilir bahis şirketleri conversation. It felt good to both of them. Surprisingly neither of them felt tired anymore.

“I should apologize for what I said before about the guy being black,” Robyn said. “I should know better, but sometimes the prejudices you’re surrounded with are hard to ignore.”

“Actually, I’m pretty surprised the way you’ve taken this whole thing,” Valerie said. “I almost expected you to call me a dyke.”

“I’m not that bad, am I?” asked Robyn.

“I guess not,” Val smiled.

“True, lesbianism isn’t really a subject that comes up a lot in my circle of friends, but I’m not totally ignorant,” Robyn went on. “I know there’s a lot more to a woman’s interest in other women than the idea that she simply can’t get herself a man.”

Actually, that little tidbit was at the core of most of Robyn’s friends’ thinking on the subject. Dykes, as some of them preferred to call them, were ugly girls who couldn’t get a man and so turned to each other.

Sex was something her other girlfriends talked about incessantly, and when they did, Robyn had found strangeness as to what was considered acceptable and what was not. It was always okay to talk about how you fucked your boyfriend or a new position you tried. In fact, she could recall a night that Betty Lieberman demonstrated on a banana the perfect blow job. Yet there was another night when Sally Keller asked one of the other girls how best to masturbate and found herself shut out of the group. Evidently, that was too close to sexual contact between one girl and another.

“Was Beth a one-time thing or are you definitely into women now? asked Robyn.

“I don’t know.” came Valerie’s reply. “I still find some guys attractive, but I think I’m more attracted to girls. To be honest, I’ve been attracted to girls for a couple of years. This was just the first time I had the opportunity to do anything about it. If Beth hadn’t been so open in her sexuality, I’d still probably just be thinking about it.”

Robyn studied the face of her friend. The revelation that she had been attracted to girls for years sent her mind racing along a new track. It was almost a minute before she asked the question that repeated over and over in her head.

“Were you ever attracted to me?” she asked.

Valerie waited almost twice as long before answering, but then just saying the words seemed to take a great load off of her.

“I’ve been in love with you since I was fourteen,” Valerie said.

“Then why didn’t you say anything?” Robyn asked, handling the admission with no more surprise than if Valerie had said the sky was blue.

“What was I going to say that probably wouldn’t have, at the very least, destroyed our friendship?” Valerie asked in reply. “Do you really think you could’ve handled something like that back then?”

“Probably not,” Robyn admitted. “To be honest, I’m really not at all sure how I’m handling it now.”

A long pause passed as the room got very quiet, the only sound the ticking of the clock on the wall.

“Maybe we should just drop this and turn in,” Valerie suggested as she looked at the clock. “It’s almost one-thirty.”

“No, I’m not tired,” was Robyn’s quick response.

She took a long hard look at her dearest friend. For most of their lives, they’d been closer than sisters. Had one of them been born a man, she had no doubt whatsoever that they’d have been lovers. Now, it seemed, that really hadn’t been a requirement after all.

“What’s it like,” she unexpectedly asked, “making love to another woman?”

It took Valerie a few seconds to even believe that Robyn had asked a question like that. Then another few moments to try and formulate a response.

“I guess I could say it was softer, gentler than being with a guy,” Valerie said, “but it’s really much more than that. It’s hard to put into words when you don’t have a common frame of reference.”

“Like the time I tried to explain to you how to give a guy a blow job when you’d never even seen a cock up close before,” Robyn said.

“Not exactly, but that’s close,” Valerie replied.

“So, I guess the only way to really understand it, then, is to do it,” Robyn said, again in a calm, controlled voice.

“I can’t have heard you right,” Valerie responded, disbelief in her own voice.

“No, I mean, yes, you heard me perfectly,” Robyn said.

“I have to be dreaming this,” Valerie said, actually wondering if this might be a wine induced dream.

“If it’s a dream, then it’s one that we’re both having,” Robyn smiled. “Valerie, I love you, always have, always will. If that’s the kind of love that involves having a physical relationship too, well, maybe I’m not totally sure of that, at least not yet. But when you think about it, it is probably the only thing we haven’t done together. I’d never admit it to anyone else, hell, I probably wouldn’t even have admitted it to you if you hadn’t done so first, but I’ve always had a certain curiosity about being with another girl. That much I’m sure of.”

Valerie sat silent, trying to take in all that Robyn had said before making a reply.

“Besides, we both know I’ve gone to bed with guys for a lot of worse reasons,” Robyn laughed.

Valerie had to smile at the truth of that.

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A BOY WHO CAME IN FROM THE COLD – CHAPTER 12

“BOYS ON FILM”

© Sadie Rose Bermingham 2006

Apologies for the delay to Chapter 12. I’ve been swanning around Europe and London enjoying myself so things have gotten a little behind. Which, by happy coincedence, is exactly what Aldo and Barclay hope to get themselves at the end of this chapter! As usual, the author reserves the right to stomp all over the heads of anyone who pilfers this material without permission! To everyone else… enjoy!

UNPREPARED:

In spite of all his darkest speculations, Rayne was not molested as he slept in Daniel Leland’s bed. In fact the old man did not sleep there at all. Probably too busy planning his revenge, Rayne though now, with the added benefit of hindsight. The elderly pornographer had not lied about wanting to get on with his pet project. Which is why the denizens of both boats were up and about especially early on this bright, sunny, mid-June morning.

There was a sense of purpose to everyone today; even laughing and chatting casually over croissants and coffee. It was Terry Goodwill, not Leland himself, who came to wake Rayne. The big man was gruff and almost deliberately distant with him, which put Rayne on his guard at once.

“You slept well,” Terry said, as he struggled to sit, knuckling the grit from his eyes. It was less of a question, more a request for affirmation.

Rayne nodded warily. There had been nightmares; that much he recalled. When he slept alone he often suffered from them, but he sensed that Terry did not want to hear about that. Nor did he want to tell, in truth.

“Good.” The tall, brawny, ex-pat Londoner looked him up and down. “Need you feelin’ chipper today. You’ve got a lot of work to do.”

“Yeah?” he responded, inarticulately because the reminder made him feel sick. It was the reason he was still here, he knew. Leland had a film to make and the old man did not care how anyone else felt about that, so long as shooting ran to schedule and the bills got paid. The ‘stars’ of these movies were not booked for their brains or their emotional interpretation skills; he was wise enough to know that much. He was here because he was pretty and men liked to fuck him, and even more so – men liked to watch him getting fucked.

“You seen the Treatment?” Terry asked, and he shook his head.

There would be no script. There never was but generally the production team put together a ‘treatment’, a brief guide to the programme of events, if you like. When he worked on ‘Going All The Way’ he had not bothered to read it. Baz gave him instructions; basically ‘look cute and do as you’re told’. Leland gave him technical directions from off camera, which were later edited off the soundtrack, and Rayne got naked and made out on a bare bed with two extremely bare strangers. The results, he had been assured, were astonishingly good. It was probably the only reason he was still on the payroll for this movie.

Rayne privately wished he had been a bit less eager to please back then.

“I’ll get you a draft and you can check it out before breakfast; then shower, teeth cleaned, full douche, okay? We’re outta here at ten sharp.”

Rayne looked enquiringly at him.

“We’re not filming here?” he asked blankly.

“Does this place look like a fuckin’ film set?” Terry chuckled, genuinely amused for the first time this morning. “You lemon! No, we’ll nip up to Beziers this morning, film the school sequence at a mate’s place, then come back to port and shoot on Paddy’s boat PM. Give you a break between so’s you can get some stretching time!”

He leered at the younger man and this time Rayne could not help it. He blushed like a child, unable to stop himself. The knowing look on Terry’s face was too much. Clearly he was wondering just who would help him to stretch, and even Rayne knew that they were not talking about sit-ups! Last time it had been Baz who took him on one side and gave him a quick, reassuring pep-talk like some over-enthusiastic PE coach, before rubbering up and fucking him quick and hard in the bathroom. Fifteen minutes later Rayne had been out there, on the bed with the cameras rolling, hyped up on speed.

He wished he had some speed now. Even more, he wished that Ant was still talking to him. Just having someone to hold him would have helped.

Ant was still asleep when Rayne rose and took his first shower of the day. Through the half open door he could see from the corridor into the bedroom they had shared. In the dim, warm half-light he made out the comfortable curve of the older man’s shoulder and bare chest rising from the rumpled sheets, arms twined around the shorter, leaner frame of Thierry’s naked body. The French lad’s face was buried in the crook of his right arm and his blond hair splashed over the pillow like a bright star. Rayne froze there, staring at this scene with a sudden irrational surge of jealousy that all too quickly turned to anger and frustration.

Was ‘that’ how much Ant thought illegal bahis of him? It certainly had not taken the other man long to find himself a replacement bedmate!

Feeling irritable and betrayed, he pulled himself away and forced his body under the shower, turning up the heat until the water was almost blisteringly hot. He felt dirty and worthless just for being here. The searing spray drilled into his flesh like a thousand superheated pins and he concentrated on the sensation. It was almost unbearable but the pain was just enough to cut through his confusion and give him focus. When he stepped out of the shower room he was calm and quiet inside.

In the Day Room people were already up and about. Arturo had arrived with the Twins and a number of other boys, who looked both scared and excited by this new situation. They whispered among themselves like children whenever someone walked into the room. When Rayne came in one of the Twins murmured something under his breath. There were a few nervous giggles but most of the lads stared at Rayne Wilde with a mixture of awe and disgust.

He turned his back on them at once, finding a plate and piling it with small, warm brioches, although he had no appetite for food at all. There was grapefruit juice in a tall jug and he poured two glasses of the stuff down his throat, followed by a tumbler full of iced water, before helping himself to coffee. Thus fortified he went up to sit on the roof deck where it was still mercifully quiet.

Aldo had beaten him to it. The Italian was tucking into a hearty breakfast of grilled mushrooms and tomatoes and two huge poached eggs on a slice of granary toast. He cheerfully waved Rayne over and the boy sank down beside him, nibbling on a brioche and trying not to look at the contents of Aldo’s plate. His companion clucked at him disapprovingly.

“You will never be strong, eating crumbs like a sparrow!” he teased. “This is good. Lots of energy but little fat. We need this today, si?”

“I dunno how you can!” Rayne told him, burying his nose in the coffee cup, which was more of a small bowl with a handle. “I just feel sick, Aldo.”

At once the other lad was concerned. He put a hand on Rayne’s arm, peering intently at him.

“You will be okay, no?”

“Yeah… I guess,” Rayne answered him non-committally, staring down into his cup. “I just… I don’t feel very hungry.”

He put down the cup and the plate, leaning forward with his arms folded on the guard-rail and his chin on the backs of his hands. It was a stunningly beautiful morning, already hot and bright although it was not much after nine am. Light glittered off the water and the streamlined hulls of the yachts and cruisers bobbing idly at their moorings. People strolled along the quayside; happy holidaymakers, blissfully ignorant of what was going on here, right under their noses. Rayne envied them. He wished that he could feel so anonymous and unconcerned. From his early teens he had been conscious of how people looked at him and whispered about him. After Brian was sent down for molestation it got progressively worse. The trial had been fairly confidential and Rayne was not named in the newspapers but Dymchurch was a small place and gossip travelled like wildfire. He shut it out because it was all that he ‘could’ do in the end. He had become very proficient at not letting others see how much he cared.

The downside to that, he supposed now, was that they all believed that he did not. Rayne clenched his teeth and looked down at his hands and wrists miserably. The scars were not so prominent now but still they stood out, slightly paler than the rest of his tanned skin. To his surprise, Aldo wriggled a little bit closer and the hand on his forearm slid up and across to his far shoulder.

“Please eat a little. Just for me,” the Italian whispered huskily. “I will take care of you, I promise. You do not have to be afraid. I will be there.”

“I’m not scared,” Rayne said stubbornly. “I… I… just… I don’t like this part. I don’t like the hanging around… people staring at me… knowing…”

Aldo nodded his head sympathetically. His arm tightened around Rayne’s slim shoulders and he murmured; “It is hard, I know. When I was first beginning in these films, I was always the bottom, si? You understand? Because I was very young and all the guys knew what I was there for. It makes you feel very… vulnerable, no?”

Rayne risked a look at him. He did not believe that Aldo would tease him about something like this but he looked anyway. The dark eyes that met his own were serious and concerned and he felt even worse knowing that Aldo seemed genuinely worried about him.

“Yeah,” he breathed quietly, at last.

“Don’t worry,” Aldo told him levelly. “These guys are good. They are not going to hurt you.”

Rayne swallowed feeling his mouth go suddenly dry. He looked away again, watching the boats and the people enjoying their pleasant, uncomplicated, ordinary lives.

“Who are the kids illegal bahis siteleri that came with Arturo this morning?” he asked at last, focussing on the facts. If he could look at this situation practically maybe that would help.

“You have not read the Treatment?” Aldo sounded a little surprised and Rayne’s eyes flickered up to find his face at once.

“No… Terry was gonna get me a copy. Have ‘you’ read it?”

Aldo half-smiled; “Of course!”

Something in the way he said that tightened all the muscles in Rayne’s chest and stomach. He wanted to be sick but he just took another sip from his cooling coffee, never taking his eyes off Aldo.

“Has ‘everyone else’ read it?”

Aldo’s expression sobered.

“I guess so,” he said cautiously.

Rayne finally averted his gaze. His thoughts were in turmoil but uppermost among them was a desire to kill Daniel Leland. The old goon had done this on purpose! He just wanted to see his nemesis fall flat on his arse, preferably in front of P J McNamara.

“You can read mine,” his friend volunteered stoically.

“I will,” Rayne said, with a scowl of defiance.

He was still reading as Terry shepherded them both down from the roof to make their ablutions. Aldo still watched him warily as he chewed on his lips, pale eyes growing darker and more appalled with every page. He knew that this was a particularly detailed Treatment. Some ran to no more than a single sheet of paper. Leland’s was twelve whole pages, annotated with speculative camera directions. Rayne Wilde was no prude but by the time Terence Goodwill called them down his face was scarlet.

“You know what to do, eh?” the big Londoner grinned at him as he returned to the Day Room with his breakfast untouched, an utterly unreadable expression on his face.

Rayne just looked at him. If looks had power, Terry would have been a dead man right then and there. As it was, he just flashed that too-knowing grin and walked away while Rayne fumed impotently behind him.

ANT:

For most of the evening, once Dan had steered Rayne away into his bedroom, Ant had simply felt sick. He did not know whether to be angry, or hurt or just downright dismayed by the scene that had erupted between himself and the boy he had hauled out of the snow. A part of his mind was telling him that Daniel had been right. Rayne would never be grateful to him. The little bitch had no idea ‘how’ to say thank you. His cock, and some overriding impulse to hurt people and drive them away, governed him. He had tried his hardest to penetrate the tough veneer that shrugged off any show of concern but Rayne was having none of it. Ant had hoped at the very least that beating the crap out of Christophe would win him brownie points but apparently it was not to be so. Rayne was impervious to any offer of help. He just took it for granted as if it was some God-given right.

Ant closed his eyes and tried to shut out the memories of his beautiful, defensive, angry young face. He could not bring himself to speak to anyone just yet so he had gone up onto the roof deck and was lying under the stars with a glass in his hand, wishing that tonight had gone differently. If only he had been a bit less hasty, Rayne might be here with him, curled against his side, maybe stroking or sucking him as he ran his hands through the boy’s silky hair. Ant might have gently seduced him until they were both making love fiercely beneath the bright heavens, instead of which he was here alone, seething to himself.

He silently cursed Paddy McNamara to a fiery hell. Everything had been fine until the Irish National Stud stuck his great big oar in. Rayne had been… if not happy, then at least satisfied with his lot. Ant never had the impression that Rayne Wilde was happy but he had at least seemed to be settling down before McNamara and his crew arrived. And that had been the catalyst.

He knew that Rayne was utterly unimpressed by fame, Daniel and the whole movie business rolled off his back like water in the shower, but maybe it was something about the allure of men with big cocks. Ant gritted his teeth at the idea of it. Finding Rayne curled up with McNamara on the sofa the other morning had almost been the final straw. Until then he had been able to kid himself that the boy was easily seduced; after all, they had got him very drunk the night before. It was easy enough to fall into the nearest bed… but to want to stay there the morning after. McNamara must have been some stud between the sheets because he had never known Rayne to be as animated as he was on that morning when the letter with his results arrived.

And since then he had endured the nightmare of not knowing whether his young mate had fled completely, or been abducted. In a way it had been almost a relief to know that Christophe might have taken him. At least it meant that he could do something. And punching the French pervert’s lights out had been immensely satisfying.

More so had been the chance to hold canlı bahis siteleri Rayne in his arms and just make a complete fuss of the boy. He had been through a nightmare. Though he made no complaint, Ant sensed that Rayne was mortified by the experience and also in considerable pain. Later, with his nerves and impulses numbed by the drugs he was so soft and compliant that Ant could not help but want to make love to him. Somehow he had managed to hold off. It was agony, lying beside his lover and rubbing against his sleek body but unable to spread and enter him. He had never wanted a fuck so badly in his life.

The half-sentient awareness of Rayne’s little chat with McNamara was the thing that completely tipped him over the edge. He could almost taste Rayne’s need for the Irishman. When the boy began to beg for sex it was all that he could do not to jump up and rip P J’s throat out. So it was that he could not quite believe the man’s immense restraint in getting up and walking away. Had he been placed in the same position he did not know how the hell he would have kept from ripping Rayne apart with his cock. In fact he wanted to get inside his lover so much that his passions were still running high once the boy discovered that he was awake and cognisant of the facts.

That had been his last mistake. Ant had been embarrassed but curiously he sensed that Rayne was too. The scene with Paddy had not gone the way his young mate expected. And then he had been forced to explain himself.

Ant let his head fall into his hands and groaned, utterly dismayed. How the hell had he let the situation get away from him so badly? When he realised that Ant was awake, Rayne had been horny enough to let him do anything. If he had just pulled the boy into his arms, said nothing, fucked him stupid… Ant sighed wearily, disgusted with himself. Since leaving London he had managed to contain Rayne’s aggression but tonight it had exploded and completely overwhelmed him. He had underestimated just how far Rayne would go to avoid confronting the truth. And now he could not even talk to the boy. He could not even say how sorry he was.

“Antoine?”

The quiet voice started him out of his agonised reflection and he peeled his hands from his eyes and looked up, blinking owlishly into Thierry’s huge, blue eyes. The slender French youth was sitting beside him. He must have come up here so quietly that Ant did not even hear his bare feet on the polished deck. Now Thierry stared down at him almost helplessly and he found himself reaching up, touching a reassuring hand to the lad’s bruised face.

“It’s okay… I’m okay… I just… I wanted a moment.”

“You want to be alone?” Thierry exhaled, almost fearfully. Ant sensed him drawing back as if he felt that he was not wanted. He curled his hand around the nape of Thierry’s neck and pulled him very gently back down until he was lying across Ant’s chest.

“No… I don’t think anyone really wants that,” he murmured reassuringly, wrapping his arms around the bewildered lad.

“It is not just you. He is angry at everyone,” Thierry whispered huskily into his ear as they sprawled beneath the stars together. “I cannot understand him, Antoine.”

“Then that makes two of us, Thierry,” he answered disconsolately.

He had no memory of staggering back down the stairs to his room but he knew that Thierry had come with him of his own accord. They had tumbled onto the bed together, the worse for wine and emotion. Thierry’s soft mouth sought out his own and they kissed long and hard, like it was something they had discovered and no one had kissed before. Ant was astonished by how proficient Thierry was; he seemed little more than a child but he kissed with a hunger that matched Ant’s own.

They wound about one another in a serpentine embrace that seemed to have no beginning and no end. Thierry’s hands moved constantly over his body, discovering his erogenous zones with a careful skill that Ant was envious of. In response he caressed the lad tenderly, stroking urgent fingers through his blond curls, coaxing Thierry’s mouth down towards his cock as they writhed together on the bed. To his amazement the blond did not fight him; he was quietly compliant with all of Ant’s desires and deliciously good at satisfying most of them too.

At some point during the night he was conscious of pulling the little blond closer to his own body, feeling Thierry straddle him willingly, rising up above his crotch and reaching back to guide Ant’s pulsing member between his creamy cheeks. His sweet hole was hot and welcoming, not as tight as Rayne’s but still pleasing nonetheless. Ant groaned long and loud as he drove his cock into the lad, feeling Thierry’s slender legs coil around his hips as he urged his groin upward to push himself deeper, his arse rising up off the mattress, back arching as he pressed his aching tool into that delicious heat. Thierry leaned over him, gasping and crying out quietly and Ant’s hands stroked his pretty face, then slid down his back to his pert bottom just as the boy’s arms snaked hungrily around his shoulders. They met at all points from the lips down and Thierry rode him almost savagely as he bucked upward to meet his new lover’s lean, smooth, undulating body.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
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Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

This is a much longer single story than most of mine. It is very much a story of pain and love so it takes a long time to get to the sex. I hope you enjoy it.

I need to give special thanks to Terry, my editor! I really appreciate the effort to help me improve the story!

It hurt so much. Shae lay against the headboard of her bed and tried to handle the pain. It was hard to breath. Her nose felt wrong and was all plugged up with blood. Her arm ached when she had fallen and landed on it. It had only finished healing from the break a couple of months ago. And her whole head rang from the successive slaps to her face. But most of all it was her belly.

Barely able to move and with the fogginess that comes from a concussion, Shae held her hands against her belly where her husband kicked her. Five weeks pregnant, the painful spasms in her womb and the blood slowly staining the bed clothes between her legs told her that she wasn’t any more. She was too numb to even feel sorrow for that loss. That would come later. Right now Shae felt a merciful unconsciousness begin to take her.

A sound make her head jerk up. It took her a few moments to recognize it. Then Shae realized it was sirens. It reminded her that the phone was still off the hook making a busy signal since it fell over after calling 911. Shae looked down alongside her. The shotgun was lying there, cold barrel against her leg. The room still had the faint smell from when she pulled the trigger. Breathing in, Shae looked over by the broken door hanging from one hinge. Bob was there on the ground, chest a deep red from where the shotgun blast hit him. The baseball bat he was carrying when he finally kicked down the door was still clenched in his fist. Even with the confusion from the concussion, she remembered what happened. She would never be able to wipe this day from her memory. But for now the noise of the siren as the police car pulled up outside couldn’t keep the blackness away.

********

Seven years before

Summer vacation was just around the corner. Shae was excited because her parents had a big trip planned to Europe as soon as school was out. For a change the June weather was nice and it made it all the harder to be inside waiting out the last few days of school. Shae was a slender 15 year old who was just starting to grow into her body. She had an almost elven face with almond shaped sky blue eyes and blonde hair that was the envy of all her friends. It was just curly enough to have wonderful body and shape without being difficult to manage. The attention her looks brought was still something that tended to embarrass her. She didn’t really know what to do with it and she didn’t feel quite ready for dating. But still she thought it was nicer to be noticed than feel invisible.

Every head turned as the door opened. Seeing the principal coming in was a surprise to all and the very serious look on his face made everyone nervous as they remembered every little rule violation they may have ever committed. He quickly walked to over to Mr. Bradford, the English teacher, and spoke to him in a very low voice. Involuntarily Mr. Bradford’s head swiveled and he looked at Shae as the principal continued to talk. Then he nodded and turned to the class.

“Shae, Mr. Wilson needs to see you now. Would you please go with him?” As he spoke, Mr. Bradford’s voice was unexpectedly hoarse compared with how he had been talking moments ago. “Take all your things, please Shae,” he added.

As the principal followed Shae out the door, he turned his head back to look at Mr. Bradford.

“I know. I will talk to them,” Mr. Bradford nodded at him.

Mr. Wilson put off all of Shae’s questions, saying that he would explain once they were in his office. Shae couldn’t imagine what was wrong. The infractions that came to her mind were mostly imaginary and wouldn’t have merited any real notice, but naturally she grew more nervous. It wasn’t until she walked into the principal’s office and saw her school counselor there as well as her mother’s best friend that she became scared.

“Ms. Martha? What are you doing here? What’s going …” Shae trailed off when she saw the tears rolling down Martha’s face. “Oh my God, what’s wrong?”

Moving across the room, Martha took Shae in her arms. She had known Shae since she was born. Her own son was the same age and going through pregnancy together had forged a tight bond between the two mothers. Shae felt almost like her own daughter.

After hugging her Martha said softly, “Shae sweetie, let’s sit down. There was a couch and the two of them sat together. Mrs. Xu pulled a chair close while Mr. Wilson leaned against his desk.

“Sweetie, there isn’t a good way to tell you this.” Martha started, trying to push keep down the sobs that threated to burst out. “Your Mom and Dad, they were out doing some errands this morning and there was an accident. A truck ran a red light and hit the car.” She paused for a second and took in a ragged breath. “Shae, I’m sorry but canlı bahis they were both killed instantly.”

“No, that’s not possible. No, how could …” Shae just looked confused. She couldn’t grasp that this morning her Dad was teasing her and now he was gone? She hadn’t even eaten the lunch her Mom made. The thermos full of tomato soup would still be hot from when she heated it up. But as Martha broke down into sobbing, Shae knew it had to be true. And feeling Martha’s body shaking with the grief, Shae began to cry herself. The two other adults in the room just looked on in helplessness.

The next few weeks were a blur to her. Shae stayed with Martha’s family while her aunt flew across the country from North Carolina to make all the arrangements. Her father’s sister, she was the only sibling of either parent. In fact, she was one of the few relatives that Shae had. Her mother’s parents had both passed away a few years ago. Her father had moved away from North Carolina when he became the first one in the family to go to college and never went back. He had lived on the West Coast ever since. Shae’s aunt and grandparents still lived in the same rural town in North Carolina, content with the slower pace there.

There was a brief argument about what to do about Shae. Before they read the will, Martha expected that there be instructions that she was to raise her if anything happened. That was certainly what she had talked about with Shae’s parents and how her own will read. But apparently they had forgotten to actually make the change to their own will. Martha tried convincing Aunt Billie to still let Shae stay where she was familiar. But Billie was firm. Family belonged with family. Her brother had been 8 years older and played a significant role in raising her. It was her obligation to take care of her big brother’s child and there was no room for debate. Martha and her husband considered for a moment taking it to court, but in the end decided that wouldn’t be best for Shae. It was bad enough dealing with the loss of her parents. A fight over custody wouldn’t do anyone good.

Before leaving, Martha talked with Billie about coming back for part of the summers to stay with them. She didn’t want to lose her connection with the one thing left of her best friend. Plus as she said to Billie, “With all of the heartache Shae has experienced, and probably will continue to feel, staying in touch with all her friends her would be very good for her. Martha felt like Billie agreed with her when she promised to try and make it work. Martha had no idea at that time she wouldn’t see Shae again until Martha flew out for Shae’s wedding five years later

The depression that Shae felt grew as she felt the airplane take off to start their trip to her new home. It reminded her of how she was supposed to have already flown to Europe with her parents. Glancing over at her aunt, she thought about how the three weeks that it had taken to get ready to move was about twice as much time as she had ever spent with her aunt during the rest of her life. It wasn’t just that they were on different sides of the country. Her aunt was as different from her father as she could imagine.

Shae knew that her father wasn’t always happy but he was a generally cheerful person who looked on the bright side of life. She could always count on him to cheer her up after a particularly tough day. He teased her without mercy, but always in a loving way and never mean. Over the last few months, she had started to open up to him about some of the things confusing her about growing up. She loved her mother dearly too but there were times when she was too direct. As a biomedical researcher, her mother hadn’t always seen the emotional side to things. Shae sighed as she thought about how her father always “got” her.

It had particularly been clear that he understood her when she started to talk to him about her feelings about boys. Before all this happened, Shae always thought that maybe it wouldn’t have been so easy if she wanted to talk about liking boys. Maybe her father would have struggled more if she wanted his advice on how to get the attention of a particular boy. Instead she wanted his help in understanding why it was other girls that seemed to attract her attention. And she was so clearly confused; her father didn’t really have to worry about her acting on her attraction. It allowed him to listen more than would otherwise have been the case. And then when he did offer advice it was helpful in untangling the confusing mess.

Above all, he was unfailingly supportive. “Sweetie, I know you are still figuring things out. But if you decide you’re gay, it doesn’t change who you are and that your mother and I will love you,” he told her at the end of their last talk.

Taking another peek at her Aunt, Shae already knew that couldn’t be said about her aunt. It was clear that there was a right way and a wrong way with most things in her Aunt’s mind. Shae tried to be charitable and accept her aunt with the same type of bahis siteleri acceptance as her father. Aunt Billie had found a fundamentalist Christian church that was close enough to the brand she attended at home and made it clear that Shae would attend. Her parents had never made religion a significant part of her life but Shae had nothing left in her with which to resist. She hoped that maybe it would help her find a little bit of peace and reassurance. Instead she found it full of anger and fear of people who were different. After three weeks of that, Shae knew that she could never talk with her aunt about her feelings. She felt tears well up again as she thought again about how much there was to miss about her parents. She never even got a chance to talk to her mom about it.

Billie was by no means unkind. She heard sniffles and looked over to see tears running down Shae’s cheeks. She put her arm around Shae and hugged her. “I know you miss them, Shae. I don’t know how much I will be able to help but I will do everything I can to help. You will be a daughter to me, just like my two little boys. And with God’s help, you will find happiness.” She stroked Shae’s head to try and comfort her. As Shae continue to silently weep, Billie leaned her head over and rested it against Shae’s. “It’s okay, darlin’. Nothing wrong with crying.”

It took a while but at last Shae got her weeping under control. It felt comforting to have her aunt hold her like that. It wasn’t the same as her mother, or even Martha, but she still felt the support and love that Billie was offering her. With the loss of everything else, she needed it. She reached her own arm around Billie and hugged her back.

“Thank, Aunt Billie. Sometimes it gets harder, you know?” Shae whispered.

“I understand. And that’s what I’m here for and why I wanted you to come home with me. I hope that you will find comfort in a place with a slower pace; where you can get to know people.” Billie smiled as she spoke. She had never lived anywhere else and she couldn’t imagine anything else. It seemed like paradise for her. Nor could she imagine why a small, backwater town in the rural south wouldn’t seem that way to anyone else.

Being reminded of where they were going brought back the worries that Shae had been trying to suppress. Without conscious thought, she slowly withdrew from Billie. She lifted the window shade to look out. They were passing over the Rockies. Looking down on the jagged peaks, Shae thought about how different it was going to be. She had spent her whole life on the southern edges of San Francisco where it was more suburban than urban. Still given all the high tech in the area, it was extremely ethnically diverse. Her school had students from 18 different countries and there were just barely a majority of kids who were white. Nor had that been much of a problem.

And while Shae was still figuring out her identity, she knew a number of people who were out. It wasn’t always easy for them, but it seemed to Shae that there was a support system there for them. Shae remembered being worried still. Even her accepting father suggested that while she was still unsure that she be a little careful who she talked to about it. “Shae, things are better for gay people now. While a majority of people support gay equality, there are still a lot who don’t. And kids can be cruel,” he had said. It just echoed what her own mind said. Always a bit shy, she liked anonymity. She had a circle of friends and was liked by almost everyone, but she was never someone to standout. Her growing beauty had started to change that. It wasn’t bad to be noticed, but not always. And to be different in her sexual orientation, that would just increase the attention. Shae thought that back home if she really decided she was lesbian, she wouldn’t have a problem coming out. But until she knew, she would rather blend in with everyone else. Shae even kept it a secret from her best friend. She just wasn’t sure how it would affect their friendship.

Luckily there were a couple of friends with whom she could share her thoughts. Both of them were gay and were friends since kindergarten. They weren’t as close as they used to be but still when she needed someone, both of them were there for her. Shae found it harder to say goodbye to them than anyone else. They were the only confidants she had left and she feared that she wouldn’t find anyone like them in her new home.

A few more tears escaped out of her eyes as Shae felt a wave of self-pity wash over her. She tried not to sniffle. Somehow she didn’t want her aunt to know that she was crying again. It was okay when it was about her parents. She welcomed Billie’s sympathy then. But she knew what Billie thought about homosexuality. It was clear at the church service. Billie cried out in affirmation every time the pastor talked about the corruption of society reflected in its acceptance of gays. Shae felt like it would be hypocritical of her to find comfort from Billie when that was what was bothering her.

Of bahis şirketleri course kids are more accepting everywhere, Shae thought. Even in a rural town in the South, surely she would find someone that could be close enough to talk about it. She clung to that thought and it helped her feel better.

When they first got on the flight, Billie had talked to one of the main cabin flight attendants. She wanted at least one other person to know about Shae’s loss just in case. If she was in the restroom and Shae was distressed, Billie felt like it was important that someone who understood could step in. Cheryl was an attractive woman in her mid to late thirties with a friendly face. She made sure to pay extra attention to Shae, stopping by often to see how she was doing.

The attention flustered Shae a little. Her aunt couldn’t have known but Shae found Cheryl quite intriguing. Her uniform was one of those dresses that showed a little more cleavage and was just above her knees. Part of what started Shae thinking about her orientation had been her habit of getting a crush on her cute teachers. Cheryl fit that same mold of an attractive older woman with a lot of self-confidence that drew Shae’s attention. When Cheryl stopped and leaned over to talk with her, Shae found it hard to not look down her dress.

Shae was looking out the window while her aunt read her bible when Cheryl stopped by and asked Shae if she would like to be shown around the galley. “I know it’s kind of lame but still it will help fill the time before we get to Atlanta.”

“Is it okay, Aunt Billie?” she asked.

“Of course, but don’t be any bother to Cheryl,” Billie replied.

As slender as Shae was, she just slipped past her aunt and followed Cheryl to the back of the plane. She admired the view of Cheryl from behind. Once back there, Cheryl started to explain how things were organized and what the various doors contained. Shae tried not to get too distracted by Cheryl and to pay attention. She was doing a relatively good job so that it caught Shae by surprise when Cheryl asked her a question.

“Is this your first time flying,” Cheryl innocently asked.

It wasn’t but thinking back to flying with her parents again reminded her of the trip to Europe and the gaping hole left by the loss of her parents. Shaking her head, Shae’s eyes filled with tears. She tried to explain.

“I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m supposed to be in Europe with my parents. I’m supposed to …. ¨ Shae broke down and just cried.

“Oh sweetie!” Cheryl knew that she really shouldn’t hug a passenger but a crying girl who just lost her parents seemed like a valid exception to the rule. She put her arms around Shae and gently squeezed her. After a few moments, she lightly patted Shae’s back.

At first, Shae only felt the overwhelming sadness. Then she became aware that she was being held by the beautiful woman whom she had been admiring. Still sniffling, she reached her own arms around Cheryl and hugged her back. As she felt their bodies touch, Shae realized that her nipples were hardening. She blushed but didn’t let go. It felt too good.

It didn’t escape Cheryl’s notice. The life of a flight attendant wasn’t everything people thought, but she had her own wild moments with both men and women. She was married now and those days were behind her. But she could still tell the signs. Even in her wild days, she would never take advantage of someone Shae’s age let alone a grief stricken one. Without acknowledging anything she loosened her arms and stepped back. She felt Shae’s own embrace somewhat reluctantly end too.

Ignoring Shae’s hard nipples jutting from under her t-shirt, Cheryl just asked, “Are you feeling better, sweetie?”

Shae nodded, not trusting her voice at that particular moment.

Cheryl reached out and touched Shae on the shoulder, hand squeezing it for a moment. She nodded with understanding but then let go and turned away to start getting things together for the next run of refreshments. It gave Shae a little break to get herself back together. Once she felt a little calmer, Shae started helping Cheryl, following her directions to refill the cart. By avoiding looking Cheryl in the eyes, Shae found that she could avoid thinking about the effect Cheryl’s hug had on her.

As Cheryl and another flight attendant maneuvered the cart to start down the aisle, Cheryl looked over at Shae. The sympathy in her eyes let Shae know that she understood. “Thanks sweetie for your help. Enjoy the rest of the flight. I probably will be busy the rest of the flight.” There was something of finality in her voice that doused any fantasies that Shae might be entertaining.

“Thanks for showing me around. I enjoyed it,” Shae said as she slipped past Cheryl to head back to her seat before they blocked the aisle. After sitting down, Billie wanted to know what they had been doing and what she had seen. Shae felt embarrassed both about crying and her reaction to Cheryl. She thought to herself that she certainly couldn’t tell her aunt about that so she just limited herself to a few vague generalities. After that Shae lapsed into a somewhat brooding silence. Not really knowing what to say, Billie just left her alone.

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I paused nervously at the top of the stairs leading down into the club. The air was smoky and the room dimly lit. The heavy bass of the speakers seemed to clutch at the pit of my belly. Slowly I moved down the staircase, descending into a maelstrom of sound and smoke. Every step made me more nervous as I went further down. I silently cursed my sister’s boyfriend, Max. This had been his idea of a dare for my twenty-first birthday. I never knew how, but he always seemed able to goad me into rising to his challenges. This time he had challenged me to do something completely wild and out of character. I had claimed to be open-minded and ready for anything he might suggest. Then he had thought up this. He had challenged me to go to a club of his choice and allow a regular of the club to pick me up. I had agreed, thinking he would send me to one of the local clubs where older women went in search of younger guys.

Max had named this club, one I had never even heard of. I had imagined some drunken ageing slut, raddled and reeking of drink, and almost thought to back out from the challenge,. The thought of Max mocking me spurred me on and I ducked into the gloom and swirling smoke. I made my way over to the bar and ordered a very large scotch. I gulped the first mouthful and felt my eyes water as it burned into my belly, then looked around.

Something did not gel quite rightly in my mind and I looked more closely at the couples in the booths lining the small dance floor. Slowly, despite the dim light, I realised that the couples were all either guy-guy or girl-girl. Almost all of them were touching, holding hands, and some were openly French kissing. I almost fell from the barstool as I realised that Max had sent me into a gay club. I swallowed the rest of the scotch in a single gulp and weighed my options. Did I really think it would be worth Max’s scorn by getting up and fleeing right now?

I had not noticed the bartender jerk his head at the guy on his own, at a corner table so, when a tall distinguished older guy slid onto the tool next to mine, I could not help jumping a little in surprise. He lifted a finger in signal to the barman and then turned towards me.

“I hope you don’t mind, but you looked as though you could use another drink,” he said in a deep, velvety, voice, “by the way, my name is Alex and my friend behind the bar is Robert.”

Robert placed another large Scotch on the marble top of the bar and Alex handed over a couple of notes, waving away the loose coins that Robert brought back as his change.

“Hello, Robert, Alex. My friends call me James,” I replied, “and, yes, I could do with a drink, thank you.”

Alex smiled and leaned a little closer. “You’re a new face in here and I should know, I’ve been coming here for a number of years now. Ask Robert there.”

Robert smiled as he leaned over the bar; güvenilir canlı bahis siteleri “Alex has been coming here for nearly ten years, ever since his thirtieth birthday. He doesn’t always stay long, but he usually has a drink at the bar three or four nights a week.”

“Oh and how do you decide how long to stay, Alex?” I asked.

“That depends on the company. If there’s no one interesting I stay for a while and go home. If the company is, conducive, shall we say, I may not stay very long at all.” Alex replied.

I could feel his eyes seeming to read the thoughts at the back of my mind. Max had not stipulated that I should go with anyone in particular but I soon realised that the chance of catching a woman’s interest were slim to non-existent. Besides, Alex was quite intriguing.

“And tonight?” I asked.

Alex leaned forward and touched his fingertips to the ends of my fingers. I almost jerked my hand away at the spark of contact but he just stroked his fingertip over my fingertip. The sensation was electric and sent a jolt through me that seemed to settle behind the tight sac of my scrotum. Alex looked into my eyes again and curled his long, elegant fingers, over the top of my hand. He leaned even closer and I could just detect the clean sharp smell of his cologne.

“That’s up to you,” he breathed.

I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry. This would be my last chance to back down. Max would, of course, drip venomous scorn on my head. I took a deep breath and Alex stroked the tip of his finger across the back of my hand. I still have no Idea how he did it, but he made more sparks flash through my body. I took a deep breath and tried to calm the thunder of my heart.

“Do you have a car? I knew I would be drinking, so I came by cab.” I answered him. Alex lifted a finger in Robert’s direction and he picked up the phone on the bar, dialled and spoke a few words into the handset. Alex and I finished our drinks and then Alex led me back up the stairs, out of the club. A taxi was waiting and Alex courteously ushered me into the seat.

The taxi turned about in the road and drove off through the streets, before pulling into the kerb outside a block of expensive apartments. Alex got out, paid the driver and then led me to the entrance. He unlocked the lobby door and led the way to an elevator that whisked us, as quietly as whispers, to the very top floor. Up here the passages were carpeted and our feet made virtually no sound as we walked.

Alex unlocked the very end door and ushered me into a huge corner apartment. The lounge was bare wood and dark leather with a view over the city from one wall and a huge wide-screen TV dominating the opposite side.

Alex took me in his arms and brushed his lips over mine. Closing my eyes I found my lips parting, allowing his tongue to slip inside and güvenilir illegal bahis siteleri explore my mouth. Neither of us had brought coats or jackets and I could feel his heart beating through his thin polo-necked jumper. I could feel his fingers plucking at the buttons of my shirt and pushing the material aside, so that he could run his fingers over my smooth chest. I gasped as he gently squeezed my nipple and he greedily swallowed the exclamation in another deep kiss.

I could feel the soft cotton of my shirt sliding out of the waistband of my trousers and abandoned myself to the moment as he caressed my erect nipple with his fingertips. I slid my hands under the fine material of his shirt and felt the springy hair covering his chest and allowed my fingertips to skate over the hard buds of his nipples. He stepped back and shrugged out of the sweater, then took my hand and led me through the doorway into his bedroom. One wall was, by day, a huge window and, by night, became a smoky mirror.

I watched our reflections as Alex unfastened my belt and then the fly of my pants, letting them fall to the floor in a heap around my ankles. His long, slender, fingers danced over the bulge that was growing, despite my misgivings, in the front of my cotton briefs. He slid his hand inside and then eased the tight waistband down over my hardening cock. His fingers were cool and soothing against the heat of my raging hard-on and he slowly kissed his way down my belly until he was able to slip the bulb of my cock between his lips.

Alex caressed my cock with his mouth, the tip of his tongue dipping into the slit and lapping the droplets of pre-cum off the velvety head. I groaned in delight as he slowly eased my cock deeper into his mouth, sliding it over his tongue to the back of his mouth and down into his throat. I could feel the warmth of his moist eager mouth bathing my cock as he suckled gently. Then he swallowed, a huge gulp making his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as it contracted in a ripple that triggered spurts of thick glutinous cum down into his throat. He swallowed again and again, each gulp a sensuous caress against the sensitive head of my cock.

Alex opened his lips and slid my slowly softening cock out of his mouth, He stood and enveloped me in his arms, kissing me deeply and sharing the taste of my cum.

“Now it’s your turn, “he breathed into my ear as he unfastened his pants. He wore no briefs and his cock immediately sprang to attention. I knelt in front of him and licked the head, tentatively, as I curled my fingers around the base of his shaft. Short tufts of springy hair formed a cushion at the root of his cock and I could feel each hair against my hand.

Opening my mouth wide, I slipped the head of his cock past my lips and onto my tongue. Alex rested his hands on my head, holding me quite güvenilir bahis şirketleri still and began to thrust slowly and gently with his hips. His cock filled my mouth and I could taste a faint tang of salty citrus that was, I realised afterwards, the taste of his pre-cum. he rocked his hips faster and faster and, without realising I swallowed, letting the bulge of his cockhead into the back of my throat. I trembled at the thought of his cum gushing down my throat and into my belly, though whether it was in anticipation or revulsion I could not tell.

I even felt the telltale twitch of his cock in my mouth, but then he slid out of my greedy lips and helped me to stand. Slowly he turned me to face the bed and pressed me over the hard bolster at the foot. I tried to protest, but Alex just looked at me and smiled another of those gentle smiles that left me helpless.

Reaching down, Alex brought a bottle of sweet smelling lotion into my sight and squeezed a huge dollop onto his fingers. Holding the cheeks of my bottom spread with one hand, he spread the lotion over my tight, untouched, anus. Slowly, drizzling more lotion onto the expanding ring of my ass, he worked his fingertip inside me. At first it burned a little, most uncomfortably in fact, but then the sharp edge of the pain seemed blunted and all could feel was a soothing and pleasing warmth.

Alex was sliding two fingers deeply into my ass, stretching me gradually so that there was almost no pain, just a feeling of being filled and a slow and gentle stretching. Then he took his fingers away and I almost groaned in despair, as my ass felt so empty. I felt the head of his cock, still slick from my mouth, press into the hole he had just eased open with his fingers. I grunted in surprise and a little pain as he pressed firmly between the cheeks of my ass. I could feel him stretching me and forcing the juicy head of his cock deeper into my ass. He paused for a moment and I drew in a huge, shuddering gasp of air.

As I had my lungs full and was bearing back on him a little, Alex rammed hard, forcing the rim of his cockhead through my anus into my rectum, in a single thrust. I screamed and fainted from the pain for a moment and, when my senses returned, I realised that Alex had rammed his cock in right to the very root.

Once he had broken my resistance the cock inside me held no fear, just a feeling of immense fullness. Alex worked his cock in and out, long slow strokes alternating with vicious stabbing jabs. I just abandoned myself to the sensation of being broken in by a man who had every intention of making my first fuck totally memorable.

I was ramming back against his cock and grunting like a pig when he stiffened and his cock started to jerk inside my ass. Then I could feel stinging gouts of thick creamy cum spurting against the tight walls of my ass. The hot liquid felt like slugs in my bowels, while the impact of each gout felt like liquid lead against my tender anus. I could feel his cock soften and shrink, then slip out of my ass with a slurping noise.

We both collapsed onto the bed, Alex deep within his own thoughts as I wondered how to recount this tale to Max.

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Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
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This is the story of my first time visiting a bathhouse. I was 19 and very aware that I was Bi. I had sex with a few guys before and loved every second of it. At the time, I was single and still living with my parent’s since I went to college near home. It was a way for me to save money for new equipment for my photography business I wanted to start. It was the day of my 19th birthday when I decided to go and check the place out. It was the middle of the week during the summer. I was nervous going in as I had heard about bathhouses and how freaky they could get. Finally, I made the decision to go.

The building was very plain on the outside. It looked like a simple two-story office building. I walked into the building and was greeted by an older man in his 50’s who welcomed me. He asked if it was my first time, to which I informed him it was. He took my ID and smiled at me.

“Happy Birthday young man. I’m happy to see that you wanted to come spend it with us. There is usually a $10 charge for a locker or $25 charge for a room, but since it is your birthday, I am going to wave your annual membership fee and you get a locker for free.”

This made me smile. It was the first time in a while that I had felt special on my birthday. Usually, it was spent alone because I always seemed to be single on my birthday, and it was the time that my family went on vacation. I had always felt like an afterthought. This year was going to be different.

I thanked the man who then handed me the key to my locker and a fresh towel. I walked through the door and found my locker. There was no one else in the room. I quickly stripped down and put all my clothes into the locker, leaving my shoes on. I wrapped the towel around my body and went off exploring.

I found out that the bathhouse had three levels. The first floor had three hot tubs, three sauna rooms, a large porn viewing room with multiple levels for people to play on, the showers, and the many private rooms. The basement was where their famous maze was located. The top floor housed Gloryhole Row, a massive dark room, a large open room for group play, and plenty of small booths to watch all the action in the open room.

I decided to start my day in the sauna. I had been in a couple of saunas at local gyms and loved the feeling of being in them. I walked in and placed my towel on the bench and laid down as there was canlı bahis şirketleri no one else in the room. I closed my eyes as the steam covered my naked body. The heat and the sweat over my body had me turned on. I reached down and started rubbing my cock. I was in my own little world stroking my cock that I did not hear the door open and close. I was startled when I felt a hand start rubbing my thighs. I opened my eyes and saw a man in his mid-thirties standing over me. He was a little shorter than my 6’2” but in much better shape. I was average with a flat stomach but now muscles that stood out. The two things that did stick out were my 7-inch cock and my bubble ass. This guy had a well defined six pack and a cock comparable to mine.

His hand moved up from my thigh and replaced my hand with his on my cock, slowly stroking me till I got harder. He moved over just enough to put his cock close enough for me to take into my waiting mouth. I grabbed the base of his shaft and ran my tongue up and down the shaft and all over the head. He would moan every time I flicked the tip with my tongue. I then slowly took him into my mouth, savoring the flavor of this cut of man meat. I was a very skilled cock sucker who knew how to get a man off. I was also able to deep throat up to 9 inches. After a few minutes, I engulfed his cock, letting the head slip down my throat. I kept a slow, steady motion, causing him to moan loader. I slipped one hand down to his balls and started caressing them.

“You are a cute cock sucker,” he moaned. “You are going to make me cum.”

I took the compliment and kept bobbing up and down, anticipating his load shooting down my throat. I felt his cock start to throb.

“Oh fuck. I’m cumming!”

The flood gates opened from his cock and rope after rope of his delicious man milk came flowing down my throat, coating the walls as I swallowed his entire load. I kept sucking until he had nothing left for me to get. He pulled his softening penis from my mouth and thanked me as I sat up. He walked out of the sauna leaving me to regain my focus. I shortly followed suit and left the sauna to find my next adventure.

I decided to go and get lost in the maze, excited at what could happen. I made my way down the stairs and made my way into the maze’s entrance. The maze was very dimly lit, allowing almost no light to enter. As soon as I entered, canlı kaçak iddaa I stood for a moment to allow my eyes to adjust to the darkness before I ventured any farther. Once I could gain my bearings, I made my way into the sex maze. As I walked deeper into the maze, I could hear the kinky noises of man on man sex all around me. I came around a corner and found one man bent over a bench as a bear was pounding him relentlessly. I could feel my cock start to get erect again at the thought of me being the man getting fucked.

After a few minutes of searching and running into many people sucking and fucking, I finally ran into a dead end where a man was sitting on a raised bench. He was sitting with his magnificent 9-inch-thick black cock out on full display. He was slowly stroking his meat allowing me to be hypnotized by the hammer between his legs.

“You want some of this,” he asked as I stared at his growing cock.

“Hell yeah,” I replied, my eyes still not moving away from his delicious looking cock.

“You wanna suck it?”

“I want to get fucked by it.”

“Well come lube it up with that mouth and I will give you what you want.”

I quickly fell to my knees and wrapped my hand around his monster. He had big balls that just begged to be sucked. I started to stroke him as I worshipped his low hanging balls with my mouth. He moaned and told me I was a good slut. As I removed my mouth from his balls, he placed a small brown bottle to my nose. I had heard or poppers before and knew what to do, I had just never done them before. I said fuck it and took a huge hit from the bottle. He then moved the bottle to my other nostril and sealed up the first nostril as I took another massive hit. The sensation hit me. I can only describe the feeling as euphoric. As soon as the rush hit my brain, I began to suck that black lollipop as best I could. I had taken a 9-inch cock before, so I forced the entire thing down my throat, letting his balls hit my chin. I then worshipped the beast as if it were an ancient god that required oral sex as it’s offering. As my head moved up and down, my tongue was bathing his entire shaft and the monstrous swollen head. He eventually had me stop and bent me over the bench. He handed me the brown bottle again and had me take a few big hits again. I took two insane hits in each nostril and once again, the euphoric feeling was back. canlı kaçak bahis As I was taking my hits, I could feel him dripping lube all over my asshole. Normally, I would be worried about taking something so big without a warm up cock, but in my preparation for the day, I had used a growing set of anal plugs to get used to the stretching. I felt the head of his cock rest at the entrance of my ass, teasing me. Once he knew that I was well into the rush of the poppers, he slowly slid his cock in.

There was pain at first as he pushed the head past the entrance walls, but once it was in, the pain was replaced with ecstasy. He still kept slowly feeding my ass his cock, pushing it in a little at a time with each thrust. After a while, he finally had gotten all nine inches in my ass. He then started to pick up the pace. I could feel each withdraw and thrust in, causing my cock to become increasingly hard. While I was being fucked by the black anaconda, someone else decided I needed my cock sucked, because there was soon a mouth worshiping my cock while I was getting fucked. My black lover stopped for a moment to take a couple of hits of his poppers and then handed me the bottle. I also took a couple of hits and felt incredible as he started fucking me harder, hitting my prostate with each thrust.

“Oh fuck! Oh fuck! I’m fucking cumming,” I cried out as he kept fucking me. The man on my cock then prepared his mouth for the flood that I was about to unleash. I sent streams of semen into his mouth, causing him to gag slightly. He got out from under me and left as the monster in my ass seemed to be very happy not releasing his venom. The man pulled out and had me sit up on the bench with my legs pulled back. Once I got another hit of the poppers, he popped his beast back into my ass and started a steady pace, withdrawing all the way to the head and then slamming back into me.

After what had seemed like a life time, he smiled at me as I could feel his cock began to pulsate. He pulled out, ripping off the condom and sprayed his insane load all over my cock, stomach, and chest. It felt like he was leaving a gallon’s worth of cum all over me. As he left, I noticed that he had left a full bottle of poppers on the bench. I grabbed the bottle and rushed to him.

“You keep them. That was the best fuck I have had in a while,” he said. “Most bitches can’t handle me. You earned those.”

He continued walking out of the maze. I went back and grabbed my towel. I made my way up to the showers to clean off. I had just gotten started at the bathhouse. I knew what I wanted for my birthday too. I wanted to be a cock slut for the day.

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