Hey everyone. Thank you so much for all the comments on my last chapter. I love reading your stipulations, and hearing your thoughts-even if they’re not necessarily kind.

Some of you do have problems reading this sort of thing, as it does have a good amount of abuse in it. As such, I will warn you, the abuse/degradation/torture in this chapter is pretty heavy handed. This chapter focuses more on plot development than eroticism.

There is a brief lesbian sex scene I will also warn you about, if that sort of thing turns your stomach.

If either of these things offends or upsets you, please skip this chapter. Sorry, guys.

***

Blood. So much blood… spilling onto the carpet… staining the hardwood… matted blonde hair… grey skin…

Silence.

“Alex? Alex, wake up!” Jacob said, shaking me. I opened my eyes and looked up at him. He was sitting on his knees next to me in the bed. But he was leaning over me, staring down at my face.

“Did you have a bad dream?” He asked, running his hand lovingly over my cheek.

“I don’t dream.” I said, smacking his hand away. I sat up and pushed the covers off of myself. Jacob was wearing a black tuxedo with a white shirt under it. It was a server’s uniform.

“What are you doing in my room? You aren’t allowed to be in here without my permission.” I snapped, climbing out of the bed. Jacob looked apologetically up at me.

“I know. I’m sorry, but Marcus told me to. He said I needed to make sure you were ready for the ball.” Jacob said, following me off the bed. I groaned. Right, that was tonight.

“What time is it?” I asked.

“It’s 11:00, Master.” Jacob said. Great, I had an hour to be ready. I was wishing Jacob had woken me up earlier. There’d be no time to play now.

I walked into the bathroom, and was surprised when Jacob didn’t follow. I didn’t think anything of it though, and turned the water to the shower on. As I waited for it to heat up, Jacob crawled into the bathroom on his hands and knees, he was holding a paddle in his mouth.

He crawled up to my naked form, and delicately placed the paddle on the floor in front of me, before resting on his knees. As he kneeled at my feet, he nuzzled my thigh with his face and whined. He looked like a little puppy. He looked so remarkably innocent, and he was being so incredibly subservient.

“Master, I need to be punished.” He whimpered. I felt a bolt of fear and arousal. What had he done that warranted a punishment by his standards? We had very few rules, and he never asked for punishments. He must’ve done something serious. I hope he hadn’t been intimate with someone else while I was asleep. That was my most important rule I had imposed onto him, and if he broke it, his punishment would be far worse than just a spanking.

“What have you done?” I asked, placing my hand on his light blonde hair.

“Master, I-I know you punished me yesterday, but I can’t remember why. I’m so sorry, Master.” His golden eyes were teary, he looked so apologetic, so afraid. I breathed a sigh of relief.

“What do you remember about last night?” I asked, petting his hair.

“I don’t remember anything, Master.” Jacob said. Of course, I knew he would say that, but I still felt relieved nonetheless.

“How do you know I punished you then, Jacob?” I asked.

“Master, I have new markings.” Jacob said. He leaned his head back, to show me the two large gashes on his neck. They were dark pink and healing very slowly for a vampire. He arched forward, and I saw his back, which was covered in deep cuts where our father had grabbed him. I felt anger rise within me, and I held back a snarl. These marks should’ve been mine. Jacob is my property, and no one else should ever be able to leave a mark on him unless I say so.

My possessive, dominant side rose to the surface, and I felt the urge to hurt Jacob. I wanted to leave deeper cuts where my father had dug into him, I wanted to claim his neck once again as my own, and leave more permanent wounds. But there was no time now. And punishing Jacob for my father’s actions was unfair, despite the fact that he was literally asking for it.

“I see. I need to clean myself. You will go and get your collar, you will undress, and you will meet me in my bedroom. If a servant stops you, you are to direct them to me. Is that understood?” I asked.

“Yes, Master. Thank you, Master.” Jacob said. He picked up the paddle between his teeth once more, and crawled out of the bathroom. He’s such a good boy.

I climbed into the shower, and worked quickly. I wouldn’t be able to give him any sort of thorough punishment now, but I wanted to get a small one in. I couldn’t let him know that I had erased his memory, so I had to pretend as if he was correct. I’d give him a few spankings now, and tonight after the ball, I’d claim his ass and feed from him. I wasn’t going to do anything too severe, he hadn’t earned that.

When I finished washing myself, I climbed out of the shower and dried myself off. I was rather hurried, I was excited to be with Jacob again. I was so proud of him for being so submissive, he really escort dudullu is taking his training well.

When I walked into the bedroom, I saw Jacob there. He was kneeling in front of the bed, with his head bowed. He was completely naked, except for the collar. He looked absolutely perfect.

I sat on the bed in front of him.

“Come up here.” I said firmly. Jacob looked at me and nodded.

“How would you like me, Master?” He asked, rising.

“Over my knee.”

Jacob did as he was told, and rested over my knees. I could feel his cock against my thigh, he was flaccid.

“How many spankings do you think you deserve, Jacob?” I asked. My hand was raised over his ass in preparation.

“Master, only you know what’s best for me.” He spoke softly.

“You’re being such a good boy.” I said.

“Thank you, Master.”

I smacked his ass. It wasn’t too hard, but it certainly wasn’t gentle either. He gasped sharply, and he jolted slightly. But he quickly regained his composure and presented his ass to me once more.

“So, you don’t remember what I’m punishing you for, Jacob?” I asked, smacking his ass again.

“No, Master. I’m so sorry.” His bottom was a light pink. It was absolutely delicious.

“I’m punishing you for not wearing your collar.” I said. I slapped him again, and he let out a quiet whimper. I could feel his dick against me, and I could tell he was getting slightly aroused. I was too, I’m sure he could feel my cock against his abdomen.

“I’m sorry, Master.” He breathed.

“Why do I want you to wear your collar?” I asked him.

“So that everyone will know that you own me. I belong to you alone, Master.” Jacob said.

“That’s right, pet.” I spanked him again. “What does it mean? What does me owning you mean?”

“It means that you can do whatever you want with me?” He asked. I could see him tensing, preparing for the next blow.

“Relax.” I commanded. He took a few deep breaths, and I watched his body relax. Then I sent my hand flying down on his ass. He groaned and pulled away, but then moved back into position obediently.

“It means that you are mine to abuse.” Smack.

“You are mine to fuck.” Smack.

“You are mine to degrade.” Smack.

Each slap was harder than the previous one. Jacob cried out after each one, and his ass turned a deeper shade of pink.

“You are mine to destroy.” Smack.

“You are mine to protect.” I finished, and instead of coming down hard on his bottom, I placed my hand on it gently. I rubbed it tenderly, and I felt him relax against me completely. His cock was hard, and it was pressing firmly against my thigh, but I wouldn’t have time to deal with it.

We stayed like that for a few minutes. Jacob regained his breath, as I massaged his sore bum. My other hand moved to his hair, and I petted it.

“How does it feel?” I asked.

“It hurts, Master.” He breathed shakily. I nodded, smiling grimly.

“Look at me.” He titled his head up to face mine.

“I want it to hurt. I want this to remind you for the rest of the night that your punishment is not yet over. There’s more to come after the ball tonight, Jacob. Every time you sit down, you’ll remember what awaits you.” I said. Jacob nodded.

“Yes, Master.”

“Good boy. Now leave me, I need to get dressed.” I gave his bum a little pat, and he climbed off of me and headed towards the door. When he reached it he turned around to look back at me.

“Can I say something, Master?” He asked nervously.

“I encourage you to.”

He walked towards me once more and kneeled in front of me. He looked up earnestly into my eyes.

“Master, when I wear this collar… it makes me feel… special. It makes me feel safe and protected because I know that no one’s going to hurt me. I know that I’m yours…and this collar… Master, it’s the greatest gift you’ve ever given me.” He breathed. I felt my heart thump painfully. I wanted to tell him that his love, his submission was the greatest gift I’d ever received, but I couldn’t.

“Then never take it off again, brother.” I whispered, taking his cheeks in my hands.

“I won’t. I love you so much.” He whispered back, leaning up into me.

I kissed him. It was a tender, loving kiss. Our lips moved against one another’s and I could taste his tongue on mine. I pulled away, releasing his face. He looked up at me adoringly. I kissed his forehead.

“Leave me, pet. I must prepare.”

“Yes Master.”

***

The music wasn’t bad, it was the company I detested. Men and women from all over the world were gathered in the ball room, dancing robotically to the live orchestra. The gowns were so large that leaning in to kiss your partner was a challenging task. The suits were so decorated with badges that the distinct sound of jingling could be heard at all times.

I watched the robotic dancing from my throne. I sat next to my step-mother, and the king was on her other side. Jacob was walking around the room, dressed in black and white, handing out glasses of blood. He istanbul bayan escort glanced over at me often, but if he saw that I caught him he would return his eyes to the floor, embarrassed.

Marcus approached me, and bowed deeply to me with a wicked grin on his face before coming to my side to talk to me.

“This party is for you, you know. Perhaps you should at least try to find a woman you find tolerable? Hm?” Marcus asked. I rolled my eyes.

“I’m really not interested.” I said back to him. I glanced around the room, before returning my eyes to Jacob. I wanted to make sure he was okay.

“How can you not be interested? Have you seen some of the women here? I’m getting laid tonight, that’s my mission… Oh, I see. You’re worried about your plaything.”

I growled. “I don’t want anyone else touching him.”

“Awfully possessive, aren’t we?” Marcus said, then he sighed. “Look, I’ll watch him for you, okay? I’ll make sure nothing happens to him. But you have to go dance with someone, seriously, you’ve been sitting up here looking grumpy all evening.”

I looked at Marcus. He was my most trusted friend.

“You’ll make sure he’s safe?” I asked.

“I promise.” He said honestly, meeting my eyes. I let out a sigh.

“Thank you.” I said. I rose and walked down, onto the dance floor. The crowd separated around me, as they waited for me to choose my first partner. I recognized a few female acquaintances, but none that had enough land or wealth to be suitable partners for me. So, I selected a tall blonde woman at random. She curtsied to me, I bowed, and we began dancing.

“You’re an excellent dancer, your Highness.” She said. She had a thick German accent. No good. We already owned Germany.

“As are you, my dear.” I said. I hated this. I’d much rather be dancing with Jacob, and I’m sure he’d step on my feet. This was torture.

As me and the woman danced, I noticed from the corner of my eye, a rather pretty brunette girl. She seemed to be sneaking out of the ball, she headed down a corridor and disappeared around a corner. I frowned. If she thought for a second she was getting out of this and I still had to stay here, she had another thing coming.

I waited an agonizing few minutes until the song was over. I bowed to my partner, and then quickly headed down the corridor. I turned left, after the brunette woman.

A long way down the corridor, there was a door that was only slightly ajar. There was a faint light coming from inside, that must be where she went.

I crept silently up to the door, but as I approached I could hear something. Moaning. How dare she? Sneaking off in the middle of my ball to have sex? If I wasn’t able to do that, she certainly couldn’t.

I pushed the door and it flew open, slamming against the wall. There she was, the pretty brunette. She had taken her dress off and was wearing just a plain white corset. But she had a young blonde girl kneeling in front of her, with her face buried deep in the brunette’s hairless pussy.

When they saw me, they broke apart. They both began talking at once, offering up apologies, but I raised my hand to silence them.

I looked at the two of them. The brunette was rather lovely. If I was fascinated with women at all, she would’ve been the sort I would go for. Tall, slim, pale. Fragile. She had a thin neck, I’m sure my fingers would almost touch if I wrapped them around it. She was clearly wealthy, despite her plain corset, she was incredibly decorated, in terms of jewelry. Her dark hair was piled up onto her head, in intricate curls and complex designs.

The blonde was not as impressive. She was average in size and height. Her hair was down. It wasn’t a fair blonde, like Jacob and I, but it was rather… mousy almost. Her skin was a less pale than the norm for a vampire. Her dress didn’t look as though she came from wealth. I wonder how she’d gotten into this party, with my father monitoring the accepted guests so carefully.

I pondered for a moment on what to do next.

“Continue.” I said finally. They both looked at me but did not move. I felt my anger swell. They were going to ignore a command after their previous transgression? I think not. I took a step towards them, and grabbed a fistful of the blonde’s hair. I pushed her face back into her lover’s body.

“Finish her.” I said sternly. The blonde let out a quiet squeak in compliance, before she began licking at her lover’s smooth pussy once more.

The brunette looked at me as her lover began pleasuring her again. I could see the fear in her eyes. She knows that I could kill her, and I would face no punishment at all. But I wasn’t going to do that, at least, not yet.

“Here. It’s okay.” I said, taking the brunette’s hand. I guided it to the blonde’s hair, and she fisted it gently.

“Oh,” She breathed softly, tilting her head back. She began rocking her hips against her lover’s mouth, her eyes closed as she basked in the pleasure. In an odd way, she reminded me of myself. Here she was, in a grand castle, with the opportunity to meet, be courted by and escort kozyatağı marry a prince, and instead she chose to sneak away and get eaten out by her lesbian lover. If the situation was reversed, I would be doing the exact same thing.

I moved away from them to close and lock the door. As I watched the two, I just kept thinking about Jacob. I wished he was here, sucking me off too. It was sort of humorous, the entire situation. I could tell both women were afraid. They should be, but really how could I blame anyone for wanting to get away from that dance?

The brunette’s grip on her partner’s hair tightened. She had arched herself backwards, giving into the pleasure. I moved towards them again, and rested my hand on the blonde’s hair.

“Good girl.” I said. The blonde moaned softly, I think as a way of giving her thanks to me.

Finally, the brunette let out a loud moan, her body shook as her orgasm overtook her. Her voice was high-pitched and delicate, in a way. It was almost cute. She released her partner’s hair, and reclaimed her breath, before looking up at me in fear.

Part of me did have an urge to kill these two. I mean, sneaking out of my party to have sex? That was something that I should’ve been doing. But there was also something unique about the two of them.

The room smelled like sex, but it was a lighter, more feminine scent then I was used to. But there was something else. Blood. It smelled like… human blood. I looked at the blonde. Human. She was wearing contacts, clearly. What was this? Some sort of Mistress, slave dynamic? How did the blonde even get in here?

“Please don’t hurt her.” The brunette said quickly. She had a heavy French accent, and I glanced at her. We didn’t own any land in France…

“What’s your name?”

“Jacqueline Fontaine.” She said, bowing her head.

“Your father owns France and New Zealand, correct?” I asked. She nodded humbly. I smirked. Perhaps this was a good thing after all.

“Get dressed, Ms. Fontaine.” I turned my attention to the human. “You, what’s your name?”

“Christine Sinclair.” She said softly, not looking up at me. Jacqueline began pulling her dress back on.

“What’s your relationship? Mistress and submissive? Owner and servant? Lovers?” I asked, looking between the two of them.

“She’s a slave, nothing more!” Jacqueline said, hurriedly. I glanced at Christine, she looked hurt. She looked hurt the same way Jacob looked hurt when I said that.

“Come here, Christine.” I said. She came to me calmly, but her lover looked afraid. I wouldn’t kill her, but Jacqueline didn’t know that.

I pulled Christine to me, and sunk my fangs into her neck. She groaned, but did not try to get away. Jacqueline looked petrified.

As I drank Christine’s blood, I saw her memories. I watched her and her lover kiss, laugh, make love. They were in love, and that was undeniable. Christine was a servant in the Fontaine household- that’s how they’d met. That also explains how she got in here.

I released Christine. She was still conscious, I hadn’t taken that much. Jacqueline looked at me desperately.

“Your Highness, please, don’t hurt her.” She begged.

“Ms. Fontaine, are you a lesbian?” I asked. I knew the answer already.

“Please, don’t tell my father.”

This entire thing was working out perfectly.

“Miss Jacqueline Fontaine, would you like to be my wife?”

***

Jacqueline and I danced together for the rest of the ball. When there were only a few songs left, I kissed her. She tasted like honey and jasmine, far too light for my taste. I preferred Jacob.

The crowd around us gasped. This was important. It wasn’t customary for royalty to be outwardly sexual or physical in anyway- especially at an event like this. It signified that Jacqueline and I were partners now.

When I pulled away, I immediately searched for my father. He looked down at us approvingly. Of course, he’d know who she was. He was probably calculating our new land in his head already. I turned back to Jacqueline and was about to kiss her again, when I heard a small voice.

“Alexander…”

I turned in the direction of it. Jacob was standing there, with Marcus by his side. But Jacob had dropped the platter he was carrying, blood was spilling across the ballroom floor. He had tears in his eyes. I groaned. Not this, not now.

“Excuse me, my love.” I murmured, kissing Jacqueline’s hand. I left her and grabbed Jacob by the hair and pulled him into a corridor where no one would be able to see us.

“How could you, Alexander?” Jacob asked. He was crying now though. I assumed it was mostly from pain, I was practically dragging him by his hair.

“What? What are you upset about, Jacob?” I snapped.

“You told me that we would only ever kiss each other. I thought, I thought-“

“No. I told you that you were only allowed to kiss me. I can do whatever I want, I’m a prince. Now you better shut up, because you’re making a scene.” I hissed. I was doing this for us, whether he could see that or not. It was bad enough that I had to pretend to love her, but to deal with Jacob’s drama on top of that? It was too much for one night. This was getting to me, there was already so much pressure and dealing with Jacob’s outburst- his completely ridiculous outburst was fueling my anger immensely. He couldn’t be surprised by this, he’s always known that I have other people on the side.

All comments and criticism welcome.

My Boss, My Master:

Losing it

I kept up my office routine, even though I knew Mr. Compton was out of town and might not be back for the rest of the week.

Each morning, I would stop in the lobby restroom, change into a pair of panties and then head to my office. I quickly found that I liked the feel of women’s underwear against my skin. But with only three pairs to choose from, I knew I would soon be bored with what I had.

I took a long lunch on Wednesday and drove out to a mall on the opposite end of town from my home, in hopes that I would not run into anyone I knew.

I headed straight for the lingerie store, my heart thumping in my chest. I had only been browsing a few moments when the clerk approached, offering help. I managed to get out a halfway believable lie, telling her I was looking for a gift for my wife.

She showed me a few things, and didn’t bat an eye when I “guessed” my wife would wear a large.

I quickly picked up a black lace thong, a red g-string that I hoped would cover my man clit and little else, a red stretch lace boyshort that looked very similar to ones my wife liked to wear, and a pair of black mesh bikinis.

I was ready to check out when a white lace thong caught my eye. I had to add add it to my stash.

I paid and got out of there, stopping in the men’s room to change. The red g-string was theft most daring, and I wanted to feel the microfiber on my manhood and the tiny string in my crack.

They were snug, but not too uncomfortable. As I left the mall, I could feel the back string rubbing against my rosebud. By the time I got to my car, my cock was stiff and pushing against my panties. I squeezed myself through my pants on the drive back to the office, but I refrained from jerking off after I got back.

I tried to concentrate on work that afternoon, but every time I shifted in my chair, I could feel the g-string against my skin. I was just about to give in and lock myself in the bathroom for a quick jerk, when my office phone range.

It was Mr. Compton.

“Are you wearing your panties, Mitchell?” he asked.

I assured him I was and I told him of my lunchtime shopping trip. He seemed pleased.

“Are you wearing your new panties?” he asked.

When I told him I was, Mr. Compton wanted to see. He gave me an email address, instructed me to take a photo of myself and send it along immediately.

I happened to keep an inexpensive digital camera in my office, so I shut my door, quickly undressed, and tried to snap a photo that would please him. I tried a few poses, before settling on the one I liked best.

Sitting in my chair, I put my feet on the desk and held the camera between my legs. With my knees spread wide, I was able to get a shot that showed off my panties best.

But when I looked at it, something was missing. My dick had gone soft while I worked to get the best shot. I stroked myself to erection and took another snap. It was much better. My stiff little man clit stretched the panties, making them look even better.

I created a new yahoo account for myself and fired off the photo to Mr. Compton as instructed. But even as I did, my erection would not go away. I couldn’t wait any longer.

I put my feet back on my desk and reached into my panties, gripping my cock.

As I stroked it, I thought of Mr. Compton taking my cherry. I let my other hand rub the thin string that runs along the crack of my ass. When my fingers brush against my rosebud, I shuddered and stifled a moan.

It didn’t take long and I filled my panties with cum, the white goo running down my shaft and matting to the landing strip I wear at my boss’ command.

I grabbed the camera and took a few more shots, including one in which I pulled the g-string down far enough that my softening cock and the mess I’d made on myself were clearly visible.

I dressed after that, knowing that someone could knock and open my office door at any moment, exposing me to certain ridicule.

My phone rang again.

“You enjoy wearing your panties, don’t you, Mitchell? They make you feel slutty, don’t they?” Mr. Compton asked. “Is that why your little clit was sticking out?”

I admitted that I enjoyed my panties and confessed that I had touched myself after taking the photos.

“You are a dirty little slut, Mitchell,” he said. “Isn’t that what got you in trouble in the first place?”

He paused, but I didn’t answer. We both knew the answer.

“Did you come?” he asked. “Are your little panties soiled?”

When I admitted that they were, his tone of voice became stern.

“Send me a photo. Now.”

I escort tuzla did as instructed. A few seconds later, I could hear a chime in the background. I could hear his breath catch in his throat. I knew I had pleased him.

“That will be all, Mitchell,” he said before the line went dead.

* * *

The next afternoon, I was working on a long, boring boilerplate brief in a land dispute case. A courier appeared at my door, dropped a package and was on his way.

I was so engrossed in my work that I didn’t even look to see who it was from, let alone open it.

It was a couple of hours later before I examined the small box. While the recipient label was complete with my name and address, the sender’s label simply read GC.

It had to be from Mr. Compton.

I tore open the box. Inside I found a white garter and stocking set and a note, which read “Virgins look best in white.”

As I fondled the material, my office phone rang.

“I hope you like your gift,” Mr. Compton said. “I will see you at 5 p.m. Friday at the Four Seasons downtown. The desk clerk will be expecting you.”

When I got home, Amber wasn’t thrilled to hear I’d be late getting home, especially on a Friday. At least until she learned that I was working late with the managing partner. Every lawyer’s wife knows that the key to moving up the corporate ladder is getting noticed by the boss.

We went to bed that night, excited by Friday’s prospects. But while Amber dreamt of the power and prestige a partnership in the firm would bring us, I could only think of sucking Mr. Compton’s big dick until he was ready to fuck my virgin hole.

* * *

On Friday, I wore my white bikinis at work. I could hardly sit still. I could not wait for 5 to come. My dick was stiff at the thought of what was to come, so much so that I worried I would soak my panties through.

By 4:30, I could wait no longer. I put my garter, stockings and my white lace thong in my briefcase. Just as I was getting up to leave, my cell phone buzzed. It was Amber, calling to wish me luck with my big meeting with the boss.

If she only knew, I thought.

I made the 10 minute walk from our office to the hotel. As Mr. Compton had said, the clerk was ready for me. She handed me a keycard, directed me to the elevator and explained how to find the room.

My heart was pounding as I rode up. It seemed surreal that this was about to happen. I was about to be fucked by my boss.

I opened the door to find an empty suite. On the dresser was a note.

“I will join you shortly. Prepare yourself. — GC”

I undressed, hanging my clothes in the closet. Once naked, I washed quickly with a washrag and touched up my smooth groin with a razor that was laying by the sink.

I slipped into my white lace thong and pulled the garter up around my waist. Getting the stockings on were tougher than I expected, but I managed to get them up and fastened to the garter. I liked the way the stockings hugged my legs, and walking in them made my dick twitch in my panties.

Walking back into the main room, I noticed the floor-to-ceiling Windows that afforded a panoramic view of downtown. I could see my own reflection in the glass as I stood there.

I liked the way I looked in the panties and stockings. I felt vulnerable and excited, sexy and a bit scared.

I ran my hands over my bottom, feeling the lace of my panties and the nylon of the stockings on my thighs. In my heart, I knew I was ready to completely submit to Mr. Compton. I wanted him to take me, use me for his pleasure and fill me with his seed.

I as I stood there, running my hands over the pretty things I was wearing for him, I never touched my cock. But the rubbing and the thoughts in my head aroused me all the same. My man clit stiffened, pushing against the white lace.

I’m not sure how long I had been standing there when Mr. Compton opened the door and stepped into the room.

I turned to greet him and his eyes roamed over my body.

“You started without me,” he said, acknowledging the bulge in the front of my panties.

As I tried to apologise, he cut me off.

“It is all right, Mitchell,” he said. “It is good that the thought of taking a real man’s cock deep inside you is arousing. You should excited at the chance to feel my dick push at your virgin hole.”

I smiled at the thought. As Mr. Compton got undressed, he asked that I fix him a drink. Once naked, he sat on the couch in the suite’s seating area.

I brought him his drink and as he took the first sip, he motioned for me to turn around.

“Bend over, Mitchell.”

I complied, istanbul escort bayan my pantied bottom jutting out toward his face. Mr. Compton let his fingers trace my garter before running his hands along the edge of my panties and my ass.

“These are pretty panties, Mitchell,” he said. “They go well with the garter and stockings. Very alluring.”

He let his hand run down my bottom and across the stocking to my knee. Slipping his hand between my knees, he ran his hand up over the tops of my stockings and between my legs until his hand was nestled between my cheeks.

When he touched my balls through my panties, I let out a little gasp.

“You are turning into a fine sissified little slut, Mitchell,” he said. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Excellent. Turn around, please.”

I did as he asked, unashamedly showing him my the bulge in the front of my panties. I was not the only one aroused. Mr. Compton’s big dick was standing at attention between his legs.

He spread his legs and scooted forward on the couch as I dropped to my knees in front of him. I leaned in and took as much of his cock into my mouth as I could, but never letting it touch my lips. When I could feel the head of his manhood pushing against the back of my throat, I closed my mouth around his dick and sucked in gently.

He moaned his approval as I held him as deep in my mouth as. I could while rolling my tongue along the underside of his shaft.

I slowly released him from my mouth, allowing all bet the tip to slide from between my lips, before pushing back down on his dick.

“You are becoming a wonderful little cocksucker,” he said as I worked him with my mouth. “I have been saving this load for you all week.”

I dropped his shaft and kissed at his balls before using my tongue to massage them. After a few minutes, I ran my tongue along the underside of his cock, pinning his erection against his abdomen. A few strokes was all he could take before Mr. Compton pushed me away.

“That’s enough of that,” he said, as I stared at his glistening cock jutting from between his legs. “Are you ready, Mitchell?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Tell me what you want.”

“Please fuck me, sir,” I said as I stared at the cock that would soon be in my bottom. “I want you take my cherry. Use my man pussy for your pleasure, sir. Please, fill me with your cum.”

Mr. Compton smiled down at me.

“Excellent, Mitchell,” he said. “Go into the bedroom and get on the bed on your hands and knees. I will join you in a minute.”

I did as instructed, while Mr. Compton refilled his drink. Peering between my open knees, I could see he had his drink in one hand and a bottle of lube in the other as he stood at the end of the bed.

Sitting the lube bottle beside me, Mr. Compton ran his hands over my pantied bottom and down the backs of my stocking-covered legs. As he caressed me, I watched his dick sway back and forth, knowing it would soon be inside me.

He pulled the lacy back of my white thong to the side and ran his finger down my crack to my rosebud. I couldn’t help but moan.

“I think you want to be fucked as badly as I want to fuck you,” he said.

Mr. Compton ran his hand between my legs and across the front of my panties. My man clit stiffened to his touch.

“It’s important you be aroused,” he said. “It will make penetration much easier for you.”

He applied some lube to his fingers and massaged my hole, eliciting more moans from me. Within a few strokes he was dipping one — and later two — fingers into my man cunt.

Mr. Compton soon moved to my side and knelt on the bed with his cock near my face. I took the tip into my mouth and gently sucked at him while he worked his fingers in my backside. He let his other hand rest on the back of my head, guiding my oral ministrations.

When he pulled away, his cock and fingers slipping from me at the same time, he ordered me onto my back.

“Pull your knees up to your chest,” he said.

As he positioned himself between my open knees, Mr. Compton stroked some lube onto his cock. He let his manhood fall from his hands and it fell into my the crack of my ass. He rubbed his shaft back and forth in my crack and felt the weight of his body on mine for the first time.

He lined his cock up with my hole and used his hand to guide it into place. With a small push, the head slipped past my outer muscles and popped into my rectum. The pain was not as sharp as I’d expected, and before I knew it, Mr. Compton was balls-deep in my man pussy.

He paused there, allowing my ass to adjust to the intrusion.

“That’s it, Mitchell,” he escort erenköy said. “Take my dick into your body. Feel your submission to me.”

He let his cock slide from inside me until only the tip remained before pushing back in as deep as he could. The movement took my breath as his cock rubbed against my prostate from the inside.

As he settled into a rhythm, I found myself moaning as his cock worked deep in my bowels. My cock — while not quite stiff but not soft, either — bounced against the lacy constraints of my thong as Mr. Compton fucked me.

His breath and his paced quickened, and I knew he would come soon.

“Please, sir,” I begged. “Fill my virgin pussy with your load. Come deep inside me. I need it. I need your come.”

It pushed him over the edge and he stroked into me deep, pushing so hard that I could feel the front of his thighs against the back of mine.

“Take it, take my load.”

I could feel his cock pulsing as he filled me with his cum.

Mr. Compton held still as his orgasm subsided, his dick buried deep in my ass. When he finally composed himself, he let his shrinking cock slip from my ass, leaving me with an empty feeling. Some of his cum ran down my crack and pooled in my panties.

He reached for his drink. I laid beside him, still and quiet, unsure what I was supposed to do next. I waited for further instruction.

After finishing his drink, Mr. Compton stood.

“I’m going to take a shower,” he said. “Join me if you like.”

The suite had a large walk-in shower with a bench at the far end. Mr Compton was fiddling with the faucet when I entered the bathroom.

I sat on the toilet, and rolled my stockings off my legs and stood to remove my garter. When I reached to take down my panties, Mr. Compton stopped me.

“Leave them on,” he said, stepping into the shower.

When i joined him, Mr. Compton handed me the soap before turning away from me. I washed his back before letting the bar linger as I soaped his ass and the backs of his thighs.

“Tell me, Mitchell, did you enjoy yourself?” he asked. “Was taking real man’s dick and being fucked all you had hoped it would be?”

I said that it was.

“Good. Because there is much more where that came from,” he said. “Your tight little pussy is exquisite. I’ll be having more of it.”

When he turned to put his back in the spray, I could see his cock had started to rise again. Without prompting, I knelt in the shower and rubbed soap across his groin, being sure to stroke his shaft with my slippery hands.

His cock immediately came to full attention and he made an approving noise in the back of his throat. He turned to rinse himself before turning back to me, his hard dick in my face.

I took him into my mouth, sucking deeply at his skin as I let his shaft fill my mouth. My dick jumped in my now-soaked panties as he grabbed the back of my head and began to fuck my face.

“Look at me,” he said.

I did as he asked, careful not to move my head. As he fucked my mouth in much the same way he had my man pussy a few minutes before, he spoke to me.

“You are a fine little sissy slut, Mitchell,” he said. “Your mouth and your pussy belong to me, do you understand? I will fuck them as I please.”

I moaned at his words, which only encouraged him to fuck me harder.

“Touch yourself while I fuck your mouth,” he said. “Rub your little man clit while you feel a real dick in your throat.”

My cock was stiff before I could get my hands in my panties. I worked it in time to the fucking he was giving my face. After the afternoon I’d had, it wasn’t long before I was moaning loudly, announcing my impending orgasm.

“That’s it, fill your panties with your cream, you little slut,” he said, his voice echoing of the tub’s wall. “Eat my cum, swallow it.”

My body stiffened and I came all over my hand, just as he pushed into my throat — farther than ever before — and gave me the second load of cum of the day.

He held his cock in my mouth as it shrank away, allowing me to savor the taste of his load in my throat as I caught my breath. When he released me and left the shower, I stayed behind on the floor. My head was spinning from the afternoon’s events: meeting Mr. Compton in a hotel room, sucking him, taking his dick into my virgin ass and then having my face fucked in the shower.

I didn’t notice that he’d dried off, left the room and redressed.

“Take all the time you want, Mitchell,” he said. “I’ll see you in the office at 2 tomorrow afternoon.”

I laid on the floor of the shower until the water finally started to run cold.

* * *

It was nearly 9 by the time I got cleaned up, stopped by the office for my things and headed home to my wife. Amber was excited to hear all about my big meeting with the boss. I made up enough work-sounding stuff to satisfy her.

“Will you be working together again?” she asked.

“I’m sure of it,” I told her. “Mr. Compton says he has plans for me.”

Millstone – ONE – (Hanging the Chimney Hook)

All Rights Reserved © 2020, Rick Heathen

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Chapter Fifteen

Tucker asked to accompany Wade when he left, but we managed to convince him that he would only get in the way at the scene. The rest of us stayed with him, and we hung about in Albert’s quarters as he had comfortable furniture. Max clung to the visibly upset Tucker for quite a while, allowing his mind to process what had happened. Even without hearing from the fire inspector, we knew someone had torched his home. Tucker had had a rough life, apparently abused as a kid, and I could only imagine that burning his home felt victimizing and violating.

Everyone living near Tucker on Sweet Basil Lane had gone to see the fireworks, so the flames had fully engulfed the home before anyone noticed. The fire department stood by at the fireworks show, as anyone should expect, but even with it on standby, it took time to get there. Whoever set Tucker’s house ablaze had picked the perfect moment.

I think I understood why Tucker’s avuncular lawyer had helped him. Life deals a bad hand to some people in this world, often from birth. In some ways, I grew a bit protective of Tucker that night, and since I had hired him, I considered him one of us, so I had even more reason to not let the culprit get away.

Albert’s quarters lay in near darkness, apart from one torchiere left on low. As Albert slept in his bed, both Tucker and Max had fallen asleep with Tucker’s lightly snoring head in Max’s lap. I sat in one of the chairs, sleepless and thinking. Grateful that I had placed my phone onto silent mode, I received a text from Wade just after 2:30. He asked me about Tucker and said he wanted to talk and needed some laundry detergent, so I crept into the hallway, retrieved a couple of detergent packs from the stash in our quarters, and took the elevator to where he awaited me in the locker room. In the silence of the ground floor, he had slumped against the lockers, looking exhausted. Apart from the ring of relatively clean skin left from having worn a mask, his sooty arms, face, and clothes caused him to smell like a chimney sweep.

“That bad?” I asked.

“Yep. I know that I have a rule about talking business here, but it’s unavoidable for the moment, and we’re alone. Tucker lived in an older house that went up like a matchbox. He rented it from a landlord who owned several properties on the street. I’m sure the house had insurance, so the owner will recover, but Tucker has lost everything.”

“Well, that’s not quite true,” I said. “Tucker now has something he’s never had before. He has you, and he has the three of us. Losing everything is devastating, but we will make sure he lands on his feet.”

“I would hug you for that, but I wouldn’t want to get any of this on you. Of course, we must wait for the fire inspector to investigate the scene to determine the exact cause and origin of the fire, but it worries me.”

“Why?”

“Because Tucker left his Jeep there,” he said. “He parked it right next to the house, and that burned too.”

It only took a moment to realize what he was telling me. “I see. Depending on where the fire started and how, they may have believed he was home.”

“Exactly. And if so, it means they’ve changed their goal. We thwarted their previous plan to have him arrested, and they’ve killed twice before, maybe they figure they should just kill him and be done with it.” He spoke with derision, but his expression told me just how much that worried him. He unbuttoned his shirt to undress.

I considered his suggestion for a moment, and a possibility occurred to me. “That may be the case; however, I think another possibility exists that’s more probable.”

“What’s that?”

“Thanks to the photo in the paper, the killer thinks Tucker has the ring. I doubt he would burn the house without first giving it a good ransacking. So, he would know that Tucker wasn’t home.”

He looked relieved. “Then our plan caused this.”

“That’s thoughtful of you to take some of the responsibility,” I said, “but the plan was mine.”

“It became mine too when I went along with it,” he said, “and I still think it could work. If what you suggest is true, then that would prove this guy still wants the ring, but perhaps he had a Plan B, so, in lieu of having him arrested, they destroyed all he owns.”

“Maybe. Let’s see what the fire inspector says.”

“They’re going to have a tough time with it, a huge section of the roof collapsed.”

“How have you gotten so dirty? You’d think you were a fireman.”

“I helped the fire department as much as I could,” he said.

“You’re more than just a little sweet on Tucker, aren’t you?”

“You would have to know him as I do. I find it astonishing that anyone would pass on the Tucker I know, just because he’s so big. But then, hey, their loss is my gain, right?”

He removed the rest of his clothing, and I couldn’t help but admire his tight swimmer’s escort bostancı body. Since I hadn’t cum in several hours, I felt the tickling sensation under the head of my cock, and the blood starting to fill it caused a tightness in my pants.

“Please, do me a favor and wash these.” He started wrapping his clothing in a way that I wouldn’t get anything on me. “I wouldn’t want Tucker to see me like this or smell it on me and my clothes.”

“Sure, no problem.” I looked up and he stared into my eyes.

“You were looking at me, weren’t you?”

“Should I apologize?”

“I thought I wasn’t your type. I mean, Max has a unique appearance and a lot of muscle. I’m fit, but not nearly so big.”

I shrugged. “A handsome naked man is standing in front of me, I’m going to look.”

He smiled. “I appreciate the compliment. Let me get cleaned up, I look like I’ve been shoveling coal. If you think it’s necessary, wash that on hot, will ya?”

At the washing machine, I received a text from Max wondering where I had gone.

TEXT: [Wade returned, and he’s filthy. He asked me to bring down some detergent and wash his clothes while he gets cleaned up. He’s given me an update. I’ll be up in a bit. Just so you know, I’m having an erection problem. Are you okay? How’s Tucker?]

REPLY: [I’m fine but sleepy. Tucker remains asleep in my lap, and I don’t want to wake him. How bad is the house?]

TEXT: [Tucker lost everything at the house, including his Jeep. Get some rest, Honey Bear. I love you.]

REPLY: [I love you too. You need some relief, and I’m okay with Wade helping you, since I’m indisposed.]

TEXT: [Are you really okay with that? I’m not so sure he would be willing.]

REPLY: [Among our little group of five, it’s fine when I’m not available. I know how it is for you, so don’t let yourself go. Trust me, he would love to blow you.]

TEXT: [Thanks, Honey Bear, I’ll see what he says.]

I pried my cock from my pants, and it felt so stiff it almost hurt. After I left my clothes on the washer, I padded over to the door of the shower room where I saw Wade scrubbing the pore-clogging grime from his lean muscular body. When he turned to rinse off, he noticed me standing in the doorway, my cock towering well above my bellybutton.

“Uh-oh,” he said. “Looks like something’s come up.”

“Yeah, Max thought you and I should discuss it, and, if you enjoy the topic, he said he’s fine with us discussing it when he’s not available.”

“I do enjoy a thorough conversation,” he said, “and I’m willing to discuss that topic anytime.”

I walked his direction. “I appreciate that. I need to discuss it often, and if I don’t…well, an issue comes up that just won’t go away until it gets all talked out, you know what I mean?”

Wade was of average height, so I had to bend a bit when I kissed him, and his lips had just the right amount of firmness. He took hold of my cock and gripped it like a nightstick.

“Are you sure that Max is okay with this?” he asked.

“I have the texts to prove it,” I said.

He wrapped his lips around the head of my cock. He couldn’t swallow it, but I enjoyed his attempts, and he had a lot of fun playing with it. Settling into a nice rhythm, he sucked the head and several inches of shaft while jerking me with both hands. What he lacked in throating ability, he made up for in enthusiasm. As I leaned forward a bit, one hand grasped the shower column and the other rode his head as he bobbed on my knob. It felt different from Max, but it worked its magic and soon I felt myself on the verge of feeding him.

“Gonna give you something to drink, buddy, so start chugging.”

I held onto the column with both hands as I came and came and came. He choked a bit but did his best to get it all. He stood upright when it stopped, and I saw that he had cum on his face. “Damn. You cum a lot.” He jacked his cock, and he asked, “I’m about to cum, do you want it?”

I squatted a little and mouthed his meat. It felt a bit wide, like an oval, but still comfortable. Since I had little experience, before I knew it, when he let it go, its downward curve caused it to slide right down my throat. It almost gagged me, so I held it near the base to prevent that from happening again. I ran my tongue beneath his foreskin then slurped and slurped as I jacked him.

Holding onto my head, he grunted when he came, and he tasted so much like Max that I had no trouble swallowing. I really liked his foreskin, and I wished I still had mine. When I stood, I licked the cum from his chin and fed it to him with a kiss.

“I have a new-found appreciation of Max’s abilities,” he said. “Throating you is a challenge, so he has some serious skills.”

“Oh, he spoils the hell out of me, and I know it.” I kissed him and grabbed his taught ass-cheeks and squeezed them. “So, will you let Tucker fuck you?”

“Yesterday, Tucker picked up one of those 18.6-ounce soup cans from my kitchen cabinets, and said, ‘See that? That’s about how big around I am.’ I saw him erect last night, and he wasn’t pulling my leg. If I ever took him, it would require a lot of work. Do you like my ass?”

“It’s a damn nice one.”

“It’s escort bayan istanbul not as nice as Troubles, and he’s an amazing fuck; it’s a shame you’re his cousin.”

“Yeah, well that’s the way the buns bounces. Let’s hurry and get upstairs, we have men waiting on us.”

He held my chin for a moment. “Hey, will you allow this to alter our working relationship?”

“What, for a bro-job? Hell no. You’re just helping a buddy out, and I appreciate it.”

By the time we had dried off, Wade’s clothes had finished washing, and since he had a clothes rack in his quarters, he hadn’t bothered tossing them into the dryer. Neither of us dressed, we just draped our clothing over our shoulder and returned to Albert’s place.

We had a few hours of night left, and as for myself, we would take the day off from working out, so I could sleep for a bit. Wade hated to awaken Tucker, even just long enough to get him to his quarters, but we all needed to sleep.

Max stood at the end of our bed, his eyes closed and only partially awake, allowing me to undress him. He sat, and I pulled his pants over his feet. We crawled into bed, I held him, and we slept until morning.

Off and on, I had incredibly erotic dreams that night, but I awoke to find myself feeding Max my special protein shake as he slurped my morning wood.

“I hoped you wouldn’t mind me helping myself,” he said.

I laughed. “Have you sucked me more than this once?”

“Twice,” he said. “I was thirsty, but I tried not to wake you.”

“Oh, Honey Bear, I’ll feed you anytime.”

A knock came upon our door. Max cleaned me in a hurry and left to answer it.

“You’ll find the car key in the pocket of my pants from yesterday,” I said.

As I expected, Wade and Tucker had dropped by, and I heard their voices from the other side of the partition. “Good morning, guys,” said Max. “Have you had enough sleep?”

“I’m alright,” said Wade. “I’ll see you guys this afternoon.” I think I heard Wade kiss Tucker goodbye before the door closed.

I rose from the bed and made myself somewhat presentable. I had only slept four hours and needed more, but I couldn’t afford to stay in bed; we had too many things to do. I could smell the food Max was preparing for breakfast and coffee brewing.

Tucker, who sat with his forehead on the dining table, must have noticed me entering the room from the corner of his eye, and we exchanged good mornings.

Max asked, “Would you like me to contact Winter to schedule a time to update her?”

“No, you’re making breakfast, so I’ll do that.” And I did so. I took a seat, studying Tucker who hadn’t moved, looking sad and pathetic. “How are you?” I asked him.

“I should just become a hobo,” he said.

I leaned forward and tipped my head until my ear practically touched the table, so he could see me in his peripheral. “Hasn’t Wade offered his home to you?”

“Yes,” (He raised his head and sat up.) “but that felt different when I had someplace else to go. Now I just feel like a burden.”

“Well, I won’t lie to you, you are a burden,” (I raised my hand.) “but before you allow that to validate how horrible you feel, let me finish. I know exactly what it feels like to have no one. When you’re truly alone, you could never burden others, but life could burden you. When life runs smoothly, independence is wonderful, and it feels great, but never expect to unwaveringly carry yourself despite whatever hardship comes along. That’s just not how life works, and fortunately, you’re not alone. So yes, you’re a burden, but you’re one we’re willing to carry, because we care about you. You couldn’t help yourself nearly as effectively while living on the street, so just accept our help while you need it.”

Max brought plates of eggs and oatmeal to the table. “The shirts you got him was fortuitous,” he said to me, then turned to Tucker. “Good thing you hadn’t taken them home.”

“Really…that would be awful, wouldn’t it? Thank you, for those; I sure need them now.”

“Well, we’re not done,” I said. “You need the rest of it”

“You’ve spent too much money on me as it is.”

“Don’t worry about the money, it pleases me to do it. Tell me, have you ever worn pants with a gusset? For big men like us, once you go gusset, you never go back.”

He had never even heard of one, and this led to a protracted discussion over breakfast, during which, I received a text from Winter. She invited us to the apartment at the mansion at 10:00 that morning, and I informed Max and Tucker of it.

“Winter hasn’t met you, has she?”

“No,” Tucker said, “we’ve seen one another, but I was just a peon at the time, so I never met her.”

“I think you should,” I said. “I want to take you into our confidence about things, but as our client, I need to discuss it with Winter first. You have your cell phone, right?”

He pulled a flip-phone from his pocket. “Right here.”

“And you lectured us on something old-school,” said Max.

“Yeah, well, when I eventually had my own business, I intended to invest in a smartphone, but I had yet to bother.”

“Can you receive texts on that?” I asked.

“Yeah, but sending them’s a pain, so I don’t.”

“Okay, escort beykoz when we get there, I need you to stay in the SUV until I text you to come inside. At the beginning of next week, we’ll get you a company smart phone and a company laptop; you’ll need it for school.”

“I appreciate that, the fire would have destroyed the one I had. I hadn’t owned much, but I can’t believe it’s all gone, even my Wrangler. I hadn’t even had that Jeep a year. Fortunately, that was fully insured. I need to contact the co-op and file a claim.”

“Speaking of all that you lost,” said Max, “had you anything at your home, besides your vehicle, that you could not go without?”

“Wade asked me the same thing. I don’t take any medications or anything, so I could only think of toiletries and clothes. Wade volunteered to get my toiletries this evening, but I have money in my savings, I should rebuy all those things myself.”

“How much money do you have in savings?” I asked.

“Currently, it’s a bit over five thousand,” he said.

“Don’t deplete your savings; that’s emergency money.”

“Isn’t this an emergency?” he asked.

“No, this is a catastrophe. An emergency is when you have a traffic ticket, and you pay out an unexpected $500 to the court. An emergency is when your car suddenly needs a transmission, and you must buy a new one, so keep your savings. We wouldn’t want to take your independence from you, so this is temporary. Maybe it hasn’t fully hit you, but someone has tried to destroy your life, and you don’t deserve that. We’ve offered to give you a major leg-up, so don’t let the perpetrator win by making it as hard on yourself as they hope it will be.”

He sat there for a moment. “I guess I hadn’t thought of it like that. I’m just used to doing everything for myself.”

“With our help, you’ll be back to that, like this never happened to you. I enjoy the idea that if we help make this a minor blip on your radar, the perpetrator will have lost.”

At the appointed hour, Max and I stood at the apartment door of the mansion while Tucker remained in the vehicle. Winter answered the door wearing a white chiffon dress with net-like lace sleeves.

“Good morning, gentlemen.” She smiled and invited us to sit at the dining table, as was her habit.

“Your wardrobe never ceases to amaze me,” said Max. “You look beautiful in that.”

“Thanks! Wait until you see my winter wardrobe. I love wearing pure white in winter, it’s so naughty.” She laughed. “Well, since Douglas Chadwell killed Tommy, I guess the case is over.”

“Unfortunately,” I said, “the police have used that as a ruse. Chadwell hadn’t killed Tommy or himself. We have a far more complicated case. It’s about someone taking vengeance on James Malor, and about something that I had yet to tell you, but I should no longer avoid; I would like you to understand what’s at stake here. The case includes an engagement ring carrying a priceless five carat red diamond that might belong to the Catholic Church.”

“You’re joking. Those sound like such widely divergent things. How could they possibly be connected?”

“We’re not sure, but they connect somehow. We have a plan to catch this person, but it’s important that the housewarming continue as planned.”

“Wouldn’t that put my guests in danger?” she asked.

“I think the only person in danger is James Malor,” I said, “and he’s willing to help us catch this person.”

“How can you know that no one else is in danger?”

“Because they burned his house last night, destroying everything he owned, so it’s pretty clear that he’s their focus.”

“Oh my god…I heard a house had burned…so that was his. Ugh, I feel horrible now.”

“Why would you feel horrible?” Max asked.

“Because I thought James killed Tommy, I went to the police, and I mentioned him. That’s apparently what the killer wanted us to think all along, now I feel like an accomplice. Besides trusting you about guest safety, how can I help?”

“One, make sure you never mention that ring to anyone. No one knows that we know about it or its significance. Two, as strange as it may sound, I have hired James to work with us from now on, and I would like you to meet him, because he will be around.”

“That’s an unusual turn of events,” she said.

“Well, you would have to have been there.”

The private number on my cell phone received a call. “It’s Detective Edgerton. Forgive me, I should take this.” Not knowing the purpose for the call, I kept it private and held the phone to my ear. “Hello detective, what can I do for you?”

“Tucker told me you were speaking with Winter,” he said, “and I apologize for disturbing you. They have managed to remove the collapsed section of roof from the fire scene, and beneath it, they found a heavily charred body. It’s a female body, according to forensics. The fire inspector says the fire started at the location of the body and involved an accelerant like kerosine. Of course, we’ll have to wait for the autopsy to know how and when she died, but I think I’ve discovered the woman’s identity. I figured since both Tommy and Chadwell worked for Alliance, perhaps she had too. So, I called Bo Pecker, and he told me that Delilah Crows, his office manager, worked yesterday, but hadn’t come to work this morning. I’ve called her cellphone, but it goes to voicemail. We found her car located at her home, but she’s neither there nor at the hospital. I asked Tucker about her; he hadn’t known her, and he kept everything strictly business with the office staff. That’s all I have for now.”

“Hey, Tom, could you get me a coke while you’re in there?”

He nodded, grabbing them from the garage. He filled two drinking glasses with ice and poured the soda in, the ice cracking and popping. Another he filled with water. Grandma didn’t drink coke herself.

He brought them out to the deck and set them out on the table.

“Thanks,” said Aric.

“So you’ve decided to move out?” asked Grandma.

“Decided?” said Aric, laughing. “Your son is practically throwing me out. He says I’m getting too old to be there.”

“Nonsense. Your father wasn’t out of our house when he was your age.”

“He says that’s because he was in college. I only have a job.”

The breeze blew, barely cooler than the summer air, sending slippery elm seed skittering across the deck. The lake was still, though, shimmering in the sunlight. Tom sat and listened, watched, interested but not sure how to contribute to the conversation.

“You’re still working at the dealership then?” Grandma asked, taking a sip of water.

“Yeah, it’s good work and good pay. I’ll be able to afford everything, and it might be nice to be out on my own for a change.”

“I hope so. How far away is the place?”

“About fifteen minutes east of here. I’ll be moved in by the end of the week. You should come visit.”

“I might do that if I can get a certain handsome young man to pick me up.” She chuckled.

“Anytime, Grandma. So what are you going to do, Tom? You’re heading off to college, right?”

Tom nodded.

“That’s cool, man. What are you going to study?”

“I’m going in as undecided,” Tom mumbled. Or at least, to them he mumbled. He could hear what he said fine.

Aric turned and looked out toward the lake. It was the right angle where the sun made a golden haze around his brown hair and sparkled off his blue eyes. His nose made a distinct profile, hooking sharply down halfway down its length. “It’s a good day to go out rowing on the lake. Grandma, do you want to come with us?”

Tom looked bewildered.

“No,” she laughed, “I’m too old to get in and out of that thing. I’ve got dishes to do and laundry to wash anyways. You two go on out. I need a little air conditioning too.”

Aric motioned to Tom and he got up, not remembering having agreed to go in the boat. They got the anchor and rope out of the garage and walked down to the little shed by the lake that housed the boat. Its old, blotchy metal body shone like fire in the sun, blinding Tom’s eyes. And he was weak. It was everything he could do to help Aric carry the boat down to the shore and flip it over. Aric got into the water up to his knees, the threads of his cutoff shorts falling into the water, and Tom pushed the boat out to him. They hopped in, and Aric rowed the boat out to the middle of the lake. Tom stared back to their grandmother’s house on the hill.

“What’s up with you, Tom? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He still stared off into the distance.

“It’s a gorgeous day,” said Aric. “Perfect for a swim.”

Tom stared back at him in shock. “We don’t have bathing suits.”

Aric laughed. “It’s just you and me. What’s the problem?” He threw the anchor over the side of the boat.

“What about Grandma?”

Aric was already taking off his shirt. “What, you think she never went skinny dipping in her day?”

Aric was a solid man. His chest was soft with fat, but still had the beautiful curve that came to mind with the word “pec,” and his stomach didn’t protrude out too far. His smooth torso made quite a figure with his cutoff shorts, and when he undid his button and slid off the shorts, his semi-erect cock completed the figure of a handsome, modern man. Tom watched him stand up, saw his brief silhouette stand poised at the side of the boat, before he dove into the water.

He surfaced, shaking his head. “Man, that’s nice.” He swam to the side of the boat and leaned on it, next to Tom. Tom could see his butt and kicking legs through the water. “Now, you can get undressed and get in here, or I’ll pull you in and you’ll get your clothes all wet.”

Tom looked horrified. He could feel his cock straining against his pants. It would be humiliating. Unconsciously, his eyes flicked to his crotch, and he sighed.

Aric laughed. “Tom, you’ve got a hard-on. Men get hard-ons. Relax, it’s not as if I haven’t seen one before.”

Tom looked at him, an eyebrow raised.

Aric grinned. “My own, you pervert. Come on, take them off. The water is beautiful.”

Tom took a deep breath and started undressing. He pulled off his shirt, and the warmth of the sun and the brush of the air felt beautiful on his chest. He did his best to take his pants off without thinking about it, and his cock pulsed painfully at its new freedom. Sitting there, he realized he was naked on a boat on the lake where anyone could see, and decided it would be best to be in the water.

He shifted his legs over the side and dipped his feet into the water. It was cool, cold. Before he could hesitate any longer, Aric reached out and grabbed his arm, escort ümraniye pulling him in. The water enveloped him, and aroused as he was he felt the water claim every inch of his skin, flowing around his loins and between his buttcheeks. He had dreamed often of skinny-dipping, but only dreamed.

Aric swam out a ways, bobbing up and down in the water. “See, it feels good, doesn’t it?”

Tom didn’t answer. He hung on to the boat and floated there, getting used to the sensation of being naked in the delicious lake. The ripples in the water lapped against his chest. He let himself float away, making half-swimming motions and looked around. The sun turned the grass and trees a hazy yellow-green, and the sky was brilliant blue.

Aric swam over to him. “Man, I wish I could do this every day. Have you never been skinny dipping before?”

Tom shook his head.

“It’s much better than having a bathing suit on, isn’t it?”

He admitted it was, turning to face Aric. He felt his face grow hot. Aric was a handsome man, with a strong chin. He let his eyes drift over the curve of Aric’s shoulders, his chest floating beneath the rippling water. Then he quickly turned to look back towards the boat. He shouldn’t have been staring.

“Hey,” said Aric, “come this way.” He swam off, and Tom followed. A knoll protruded out into the water, so that the shape of the pond resembled a pie with a slice taken out of it. Aric led Tom to the opposite side of the knoll, the one that faced the sun and the sloping hills and the distant forest. A large boulder laid in the shallows.

As they drew closer, Tom found he needed to crouch down to keep his body under the water, but Aric didn’t seem to care. He walked toward the boulder, his body growing up out of the water, droplets falling off his shoulders, his arms, his ass, his legs. He turned around and laid on the boulder, shaking the hair out of his eyes.

Tom turned his head away.

“Come on,” Aric called. “There’s room for you up here.”

Tom shook his head, wanting to sink under the water and drift away. His cock was growing hard again.

“Tom, what’s wrong?”

Tom clenched his jaw for a moment. “You’re naked!”

“Yeah, so are you!”

He stood there, feeling the muck between his toes. He was growing cold again, and wanted to go back to the boat. He took a deep breath and turned to tell Aric, but Aric was back in the water, walking over to him. Where he was, the water was just more than waist-deep, and he could see Aric’s penis just under the surface.

He looked away, and then he felt Aric’s hand on his cheek. He yielded to the pressure and stood up, looking Aric in the eyes. There was emotion in the eyes, something Tom didn’t understand or expect.

“Tom,” Aric whispered.

Tom started toward the boat but Aric grabbed his arm and turned him around. He clasped Tom’s face in his hands and kissed him.

Tom pushed him away. “Aric, what are you doing? Someone will see us!”

“I don’t care if anyone sees us.” He reached out to take Tom’s hand, but Tom pulled away.

“No Aric, this is wrong, this is very wrong. I’m not gay.”

Aric laughed. “Of course you are. I’ve seen the way you look at men. Why won’t you look at me, Tom? I was sunbathing for you.”

“Stop that!” He wanted nothing more than to get away, to go back to the house, to pretend this never happened. But he couldn’t.

Aric sighed. “Let’s get back to the boat.”

“We’ve got no towels.”

“I’ll row the boat over here and we can let the sun dry us off where we’ll be hidden.” Without another word, he slid back into the water and swam to the boat. Tom watched him, his smooth back and butt shimmering under the surface. It was all wrong. God, why did everything have to be so wrong?

Aric paddled the boat over behind the knoll where it would be hidden from the house. By that time a few clouds drifted across the sky, and one fell across the sun. The air grew cold.

Aric threw down the anchor and helped Tom back into the boat. Water poured off his naked body, pooling under their seats. Aric lay back and looked off into the distance, while Tom sat with his eyes focused on his feet.

“Tom, I love you.”

Tom didn’t answer at first, he just stared at his hands resting on his knees. There were so many things he wanted to say, but none would come to his lips.

“Tom, look at me.”

He looked, and Aric sat up, leaning forward so that he could reach out and touch Tom’s hand. Tom let him do it.

“Aric, you’re my brother.”

“What does that matter?”

“It’s wrong! It’s so wrong! It’s incest, it’s disgusting. There are a million ways it’s wrong. God, didn’t you ever pay attention in church?”

Aric squeezed Tom’s hand and leaned into him. Tom felt paralyzed, felt himself quivering as Aric’s lips came to meet his. He held back, let his own lips fall dead, let his hand grow slack in Aric’s.

Aric sat back in his seat, withdrew his hand and stared at Tom. “But does it feel escort istanbul wrong to you, brother?”

When they had dried off, they put their clothes back on and rowed back to shore, hoisting the boat back up to its shed. They went in and kissed their grandmother goodbye and drove home in silence. They slept in separated rooms, and as Tom lay alone in his, he wished desperately that sleep would come and wash away everything that had happened that day.

***

A week passed, and nothing had changed. Everything had changed. Aric moved out on Saturday, but until then Tom saw his every move. He watched the muscles in his butt shift as he walked around the house, he watched the muscles in his arm ripple when he reached for a glass out of the cabinet. He saw the way Aric’s t-shirts outlined his pecs, the way his nipples sometimes showed under the fabric. He saw the soft curve of his lips and the intent stare of his eyes whenever he watched TV. He saw the hooked profile of his nose and the furrowing of his brow whenever he read. He grew mad with obsession.

And he also saw every time his mother and father kissed each other good night. He saw each and every commercial on TV, whether for fabric softener or diapers or home repair, where a man and a woman, clearly in love, enjoyed whatever product was being sold. He noticed that each and every couple on the Cialis commercials contained one man and one woman, no other configuration. He saw the budding relationships between a guy and a girl on each of his favorite television shows, and read about heros and heroines in his novels. Deep down, to the core of his being, he knew that they were all right, and he was wrong.

When his obsessions had stifled him to the point where he could no longer breathe, he wrote a note to his parents saying Aric had invited him to stay over for a few days, and that he’d call them tomorrow. He got in his car and drove. The drive out to Aric’s new place wasn’t that long, and it ran along a lot of back roads lined with sycamore trees and cozy houses tucked in the woods. Aric’s place was a small house on the edge of a farm, rented to him by the farmer.

When Tom got there, there were no cars in the driveway. He tried the front door, but it was locked, so he sat in the wicker chair on the porch and waited. It was long enough that he contemplated going home, wondering what the hell he was doing. He was sick and disgusted with himself for his feelings. The shame he felt was unreal, but his legs wouldn’t carry him back to his car.

It was still bright out when Aric’s car, a blue sedan, pulled into the driveway. Summer was beautiful that way, still affording one a few hours of daylight after a long day at work. Aric got out of his car looking grimy and exhausted and bewildered.

“Tom, what’s wrong? Is everything okay?” He jogged up to the porch.

Tom nodded. “Everything’s fine.”

“Did you run away? Do Mom and Dad know you’re here?”

Tom nodded.

“Let’s go inside. I’ve got to get cleaned up.” Aric unlocked the door and held it open for Tom. He started up the stairs. “I’m going to take a shower. You can wait in the kitchen, if you want. There’s food in the fridge.”

“Aric wait.”

He turned around on the stairs. Tom struggled to find more words, but they seemed stuck in his throat. He took a deep breath and swallowed, forcing them out.

“I love you.”

Aric looked as if Tom had struck him.

“Look, I know what I said,” Tom said, walking toward the stairs, “but I’ve been going crazy all week. Please. I’m sorry.”

Aric looked down, his shoulders sunken. “I’ve got to get cleaned up.”

“Then let me help you,” Tom said, stepping onto the stairs. His heart was pounding, and he was hardly aware of the words that had come out of his mouth. Aric didn’t say anything in response, but started up the stairs. Tom walked after him.

The bathroom was small, white walls with stains where they met the ceiling, but the shower was a bath combo. Before Aric could do anything else, Tom plugged the drain and started the water, feeling it to check the temperature.

“What are you doing?” Aric asked.

“Just let me take care of you. Please.” He helped Aric take off his shirt and tossed it in the hamper. Aric tried to kiss him, but he put up his hand. He knelt down and took of Aric’s socks, then helped him pull off his pants, then boxer-briefs. Aric stood over him, naked, and Tom could smell his musk.

He stood. “Get in the water, and hand me the shampoo.”

Aric looked confused, but obeyed. Tom waited until Aric was settled in the water, then knelt down beside him. He gestured for Aric to wet his hair, and he rolled up his sleeves and lathered up the shampoo in his hands. Aric sat with his back to Tom, and Tom soaped up his hair.

“Tom, what are you doing?”

Tom chuckled. “I don’t know.” He took great care lathering Aric’s hair, making sure to massage his scalp with his fingertips. He cupped the water in his hands and attempted to rinse Aric’s hair, but Aric saved him the escort göztepe trouble, dipping his head into the water and washing the shampoo away. He handed Tom the bar of soap, and Tom lathered up his hands and began to massage Aric’s shoulders. As he worked his way down Aric’s back, his brother stood up, and Tom was lathering his butt, touching skin he always desired to touch but was forbidden to do so. He continued to lather down his thighs and calves, and Aric turned around, and he worked his way back up. He felt himself blush as he soaped up Aric’s erect cock, but he simply lathered it, then continued up Aric’s stomach and chest as Aric lowered back into the water.

Aric stared at Tom as he did all this, and a few times their eyes met, but Tom did not allow their gazes to lock until he had finished with the soap. For a moment, they simply stared into each other’s eyes. Tom wasn’t sure what he saw in Aric’s. Confusion, sadness, passion. Then Aric reached out and cradled Tom’s face in his hands, and kissed him. And Tom allowed himself to kiss back.

Water dripped from Aric’s hair, his face, his arms, onto Tom’s shirt and pants, but Tom didn’t notice. He just kissed Aric’s lips, supple against his own, and felt Aric’s hands on his cheeks. He wished he could freeze time and stay there, but as all things do, the kiss ended.

“We should dry you off,” he whispered.

Without a word, Aric stood, and Tom took a towel off the rack and began to dry Aric’s hair. Even under the towel, Aric felt solid, manly. Tom had always admired him, but maybe it had been desire rather than admiration. Clean, Aric’s skin seemed to glow in the bathroom light. He reached out and rested a hand on Tom’s shoulder.

“Would you like to share my bed tonight?”

It’s hard to describe what it’s like to like naked in the arms of another man. It’s almost like the delightful sensation of holding hands, but magnified a thousand times. There’s the feeling of his skin against your own, all down your body, your chests pressed together, his arms around your back, his hands on your butt, your cock pressed against his, your legs entwined. There’s the feeling of his heartbeat, his breathing, mingled with your own. There’s the penetrating warmth of his life.

And they were kissing. All kinds of kissing. Chaste kissing, and kissing where their tongues darted in and out of each other’s mouths. They kissed lips, cheeks, necks, ears. They held each other so tight, as if they could meld together into one being if they just could hug a little bit harder. And every once in a while, to breathe, they would pull back and look at each other, admiring the curve of the smile, the blush of the cheeks, the line of the eyebrows, the curve of the eyelashes, the way the hair feel across the forehead. It was as if they were under the influence of some drug where their whole existence was refracted in a kaleidoscope of beauty.

They were brothers, damn it! Brothers! Incest and homosexuality! It wasn’t supposed to be this way. The Bible forbade it. Society forbade it. What would people think? They couldn’t know! It would be a disaster!

In the moment, though, it was right. It was right when Aric’s mouth closed around Tom’s cock. Could anything else feel so wonderful? Aric pressed his tongue right up against Tom’s shaft, stimulating everything as he bobbed his head up and down. With his hand he massaged Tom’s balls, and Tom reached down and massaged his scalp, dreaming of giving this distinct pleasure back to his brother. Aric licked his balls, kissed his thighs, slid his tongue behind his balls and dangerously close to Tom’s hole. Tom only wanted more of it.

This wasn’t what he had consciously dreamed of when he’d looked at Aric’s body. Nobody had ever told him what sex felt like, even though he read plenty of dirty stories on the internet. This was better, though. This was real.

He pushed Aric away from his cock and kissed him deeply, hungrily. All he wanted was to show Aric he appreciated everything, that he loved him mind and body. For a moment, their kiss broke, and Aric giggled in pleasure, and Tom giggled too. The smile on Aric’s face was intoxicating, arresting. He reached out and massaged Aric’s smooth cheek with his thumb, looking into his blue eyes. How was it that there could be such joy in utter depravity?

He inched backward on the bed so that his face was above Aric’s crotch and took hold of his brother’s cock. For a moment he just looked at it and stroked it, feeling its solid girth in his fist, watching a drop of precum form on the tip and coaxing it onto his finger. He could smell his brother’s musk mixed with the scent of soap. His heart pounded, and he chuckled out of nervousness.

“Have you done this before?” Aric asked.

Tom shook his head. He leaned in closer, let his lips brush the tip of Aric’s cock. The head was soft, smooth, and he licked it. The precum was salty, good, and he drew his tongue up and down the length of the shaft. Aric’s breath hissed, and Tom felt a bit of confidence grow in him. He put the cock in his mouth and started sucking it, feeling its shape with his tongue. The tastes of precum and skin mingled on his tongue as he worked around the shaft. With his hands he started massaging Aric’s thighs, and when he felt brave enough, he looked up. Aric had thrown his head back, and Tom admired the smooth lines of his throat and jaw.

My wife, Claire, has friends from all over. We have a big house in the hills, overlooking Mount Rainier, with five bedrooms and a lot more space than we needed once our kids went to college. We had plenty of overnight visitors, who loved the morning view of the mountain, and Claire’s pleasant hospitality.

Claire had a very wide circle of friends, men and women, she had known throughout the years from college and on. More than a few were old boyfriends, and a select number of girlfriends, lovers all, she had collected over time. She still kept in touch with most of them, and admitted that more than once she had used Skype from her office to talk to some of them. I walked in on her twice, sitting naked on our bedroom chair, chatting happily with also-naked friends. I found it titillating and arousing, and both times we found ourselves in bed right after the calls, spending the afternoon making love, and a great deal of noise.

One of her friends was a fellow named Bill, who she had briefly dated a couple of years before we met. She had shyly talked me into taking pictures of her, semi-clothed and naked, to send to him after he and his wife split up. Claire explained she wanted to cheer Bill up, and I agreed. We happily fucked all afternoon after sending them off to him, and he texted back that he loved all of them.

Things escalated over the ensuing weeks. One afternoon, she came downstairs, wearing only a lacy peignoir, and suggested I come upstairs. I followed in eager anticipation of a lazy Saturday in bed, and falling into a blissful sleep afterwards.

Her laptop was on, as it often was, but instead of her usual porn videos, there was a picture of Bill, but oddly informal. He had blue eyes, blond hair, and a couple of days’ worth of stubble. Before I could ask how recent the picture was, his eyes looked up, and he smiled, watching us. Claire greeted him and removed her peignoir, standing naked and turning a pirouette in front of the camera, She smiled, and turned to me, starting to remove my sweat pants, pulling them down and putting her mouth around my cock in one easy motion.

Shocked, I couldn’t say a word while I stared at the monitor, Claire sucking my hardening dick, Bill watching the whole time. She stopped after too short a time, and pulled my t-shirt off over my head, and helping me step out of the sweats pooled on the floor. She led me to the bed two short feet away, and got on all fours. “Fuck me from the back, baby. I want Bill to watch us fuck.” I climbed onto the bed, and stuck my cock inside her pussy, which was hot and slick. I wondered if she had been touching herself for Bill, but then my thrusts took over.

She turned her head to watch Bill, and when I looked over, all I saw his part of his bare chest, and his face gazing intently at us. He started to pant, and we watched his arm move up and down, as he started ever so slightly to moan. I knew he was stroking his cock, and wished just for a moment that we could see him rubbing himself. We slowed down, or I did, enthralled by watching another man get himself off to me fucking Claire.

Bill closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them up. “Please keep fucking, you guys. That is so fucking hot!” My tempo picked up, and Claire started to moan in time to my thrusts, and Bill’s increasingly loud moans. When I came it was incredible. It felt like my cock wouldn’t stop pulsing, and I looked over at Bill, and noticed two things at once. First, Bill had shot cum up to his chest, a milky white dribble of fluid shot up from his cock, nearly hitting his chin where he sat.

Second, Claire had never stopped watching, even as she came. Her eyes were glued to the PC, and I suspected a significant portion of her lustful panting arose from Bill’s orgasm, as well as my efforts. After a few minutes of letting our hearts slow down, Claire said goodbye and turned off the chat window. We spent the rest of the afternoon in bed, alternately drowsing and making love.

Six months later, she asked me to let Bill visit, since he was flying through Seattle on business, and could he stay in one of the spare rooms? I agreed, and wondered to myself if Claire wanted to see him jack off again while watching the two of us fuck. That, I thought, would be very hot.

Bill arrived the following week, late Friday afternoon. He drove in from Seattle after his meeting, arriving just as the sun sank into the hills to our west. We had dinner, and chatted for a while, maybe three or four hours, before going to bed.

Claire slipped everything off and slid into bed naked, but before I could start stroking her and getting her excited, she rolled onto her side away from me. “Sorry, sweetheart. I’m so tired right now. Maybe we can do something escort kartal in the morning, okay?” I was disappointed, but figured that since Bill had gotten in so late, she wanted him to rest before he watched us in the morning.

It was early when I heard a tap on the door, almost too quiet to hear. The clock told me it was just after six o’clock. I climbed out of bed when I heard the soft, stealthy tap again, and put on a pair of underpants so I wouldn’t answer the door naked.

I opened it a crack, and saw Bill there, wearing a pair of blue jeans, boots, and a clean white shirt. It occurred to me he might have to leave for his plane, and we wouldn’t spend more time with him.

“Is Claire awake?” He kept his voice pitched low.

I closed the door, holding up a single finger to show I’d be back in a moment. I crept over to Claire, who was still naked with the covers almost entirely off her. “Babe, Bill is asking if you’re awake.”

She opened her eyes a little, then thought better of it. “Still asleep. See if you can take care of what he wants.” Later, I imagined she had given a little smile when she said it.

I slipped through the door, still wearing only my boxers, closing it swiftly and silently behind me. “No, she’s still sleeping. Can I help you with anything?”

Bill smiled. “Well, just follow me into the living room for a moment.”

I padded on bare feet down our carpeted hall, and walked out into the living room. We had bought the house with a grand view of Mount Rainier in the near distance, and early morning light had begun to filter through the evergreens, giving the room its characteristic dawn glow, through the windows stretching to the ceiling twenty feet above. “Let’s sit down,” I suggested, walking to one of our couches.

Before I could sit, he stepped up to me, and I felt his hand brush against my flaccid cock, through the thin fabric of the underwear. I didn’t move, or move his hand away, and I felt him stroke me again, more distinctly this time, studying my face for a long moment, a faint smile on his lips. If this was a test of my reaction, it looked like I had passed with the second time. I couldn’t speak, which was fine with both of us.

He sat me on our couch, sliding my underwear down to my ankles, and I let him take them from there, tossing them on the loveseat. There I sat, as naked as he was clothed. Moving the coffee table off to the side, he kneeled between my knees and spread them apart. My cock reacted to his touch and movement, and I felt my heart quicken as I stiffened.

“Bill, what the Hell?” I said it gently, without any anger, but I was eager to see what he had in mind.

“Loved watching you fuck Claire, and I appreciate how willing you both were to perform for me. I came so hard watching you and jacking off. I’ve always loved how loud Claire gets when she fucks, and even louder when she cums. You, too, apparently.”

I wasn’t sure what to say, but managed a weak okay.

“I wanted to thank both of you, but especially you. You didn’t have to fuck her in front of me, and it was really an enormous gift.” His eyes drifted down to my nearly fully erect hard-on, almost leering at my rigid shaft. His eyes flicked up and caught mine. “So, I’m going to return the favor. You have to be quiet, though. I don’t want Claire to hear.”

He lowered his mouth to my cock, and took it inside slowly, agonizingly, inch by inch until I felt my swollen head touch the back of his throat. Pulling back at the same speed, he gazed into my eyes again. I kept my mouth closed, and breathed through my mouth, not letting a single sound past my lips. “Deal?”

“Deal,” I whispered, leaning back and closing my eyes. I felt his mouth descend on my cock, and he started sucking very gently, very slowly. Bill knew what he was doing. His tongue was soft, almost velvety, and his teeth never touched my shaft. He was as good as Claire, slow and deliberate, bringing me almost painfully to the brink of an orgasm, without quite finishing me off. With a languorous rhythm, Bill kept sucking me for several minutes, as I fought not to moan in spite of the pleasure I was receiving.

It struck me that Bill’s cocksucking technique felt exactly the same as Claire’s. For a fleeting moment, I wondered if he had ever shown her how to suck a cock, or she had shown him. My heart skipped a bet, and a horny thrill ran up my spine as I considered it.

I let my mind drift to the two of them, both on the floor, taking turns sucking someone’s cock and critiquing each other’s style. I wished it had been me getting twice the attention, and then I imagined sharing Bill’s cock with Claire, even though I still hadn’t seen bayan escort his cock. Most blowjobs, I realized, were the same thing, with little differences, but I couldn’t shake the idea that mine wasn’t the first cock he’s sucked. I also wondered who got to swallow the cum when the object of their attention came…

Those visions started an intense orgasm to rise in me, and I felt my loins begin to pulse with the onset of a rush of semen boiling out of me into Bill’s waiting mouth. “Are you close?,” Bill asked, one word per thrust. Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded, eyes still screwed shut, and hoped he noticed.

He apparently did, because he picked up speed and depth. I grabbed one of the pillows and covered my mouth with it, burying my quickening moans in the deep, thick fabric and stuffing. When I came, the orgasm shuddered through me, and I was glad for the pillow that drowned out almost all of the strangled moan I gave in response.

Spurt after spurt shot out, and Bill never moved his mouth, taking the whole load, spilling not a single drop. I put down the pillow, heart hammering in my chest. Bill levered himself up against my knees, and put his face right in front of mine. I saw a thin dribble of cum at the corner of his mouth, and knew what he wanted.

Grabbing the back of his neck, I pulled him forward until his lips were on mine and parted my own to taste the musky fluid he had just harvested from me. He opened his mouth at the same time, and we shared my semen, our tongues swimming in the thick fluid, even as we swallowed our own portions of it.

After most of it was gone, Bill leaned back, still fully dressed. “Lie back on the couch.” I turned and lay down, my head on one of the cushions, wondering what delight was next.

Bill opened his jeans, just the zipper, and let his own cock practically spring through the denim folds and brass-colored zipper. It was hard and throbbing like mine had been moments ago. Straddling me on the couch, one knee on the cushions and his other booted foot on the floor, he perched with his crotch on my bare chest. I reached for his belt buckle, and he caught my hand in his. Quietly, barely over the sounds of the early morning, he said, “I want you to be the only one naked. Call it a fetish…”

He leaned into me, bracing both hands on the arm of the couch. As he leaned forward, his cock brushed my lips, and I eagerly opened them, taking the length of his shaft inside my mouth, feeling it swell even further at the touch of my lips and tongue.

Before this morning, I had never had a guy suck my cock, and never, ever, sucked another man off, or even touched another man’s penis. Even in the showers in high school I had always looked away, pretending that no-one else was looking or comparing. A few times I’d dreamt I had been alone in the shower with one of the other guys in my gym class, showering and naked. Every time, I was always the bold one, going across the shower room to my fellow student. Taking the cock I so carefully had ignored in the waking world in my hand, I rubbed my cock and his until we both came. Each time woke me up, and I started the day with a quick jacking off while I recalled my dream.

A couple of years later, I had a recurring dream that I was naked and kneeling on the floor, sucking two cocks at once, a pair of guys on the football team. They were still wearing their pads, which I suppose is how I knew they were on the team, and both moaned longingly at my deep and frenzied sucking, cradling and fondling their ball sacks in time to my dream fellatio. I awakened when they groaned at the same time, and shot streams of hot semen into my mouth. Afterwards, I was curious and hungry, even after I jacked off in my mouth, feet against my headboard.

That same dream repeated itself, or some variation, occasionally over the years, me naked and kneeling, with some guy’s erection in my mouth. Sometimes I was active, grabbing his bare ass and driving his thrusts while I fellated him. Other times, the other man, sometimes anonymous and other times a friend or acquaintance, fucked my mouth while I passively took the shaft in, feeling it glide over my tongue and to the back of my throat, over and over and over.

The dreams always ended the same way, the same instant, with their cock straining in my mouth, pulsing, and then washing a hot tide of jism over my lips and tongue, bathing my mouth in musky warmth. I would wake up, usually very hard, and play with my cock for a few minutes until I came myself. A few times, I would take my cum on one finger and taste it, and a couple of times I lay on my back, jerking hot cum over my waiting mouth, letting it drip into my mouth with each orgasmic escort maltepe pulse, and I always swallowed it all.

Now here I was, taking my first real, live cock into my mouth, and anticipating it almost joyously, I suspected this was what Claire felt when she would suck me off, and I wasn’t going to stop now. Bill was gentle, thrusting carefully, never hitting the back of my mouth hard enough to make me gag. I moaned around his cock, tasting it through my own semen, which still lingered in my mouth after our exchange of my cum.

He started to pound my face like it was a pussy, faster but still carefully. I waited for him to shoot his load, and waited to taste his cum, share it with him. His breathing grew ragged, and I knew he was about to cum.

With no warning, Bill pulled out of my mouth, squeezing the base of his cock, damming up the flood. “Turn over.” I did as he asked, knowing what came next, even though I had never done it before. Both hands on the couch’s armrest to brace myself, I put one foot on the floor, and kept my right knee on the cushions.

Still dressed, Bill lubed his naked cock, and mounted me, hands on my hips, pushing inside my ass slowly, letting me feel his shaft penetrate my virgin anus. I bit down on another moan, letting only a breathy gasp escape my throat when I felt his blue jeans on my naked buttocks.

He started breathing harder with each thrust. I had known how close he was to orgasm, and was eager for him to cum inside me, mouth or ass, it didn’t matter. I fought back another groan, and concentrated on Bill’s hard-on, pistoning faster and faster, slick with lube. It felt divine.

I felt the denim slap me with each thrust, and it seemed like he pushed it deeper each time. I was barely able to keep my promise, his “deal” not to be loud, but fuck, it was so hard to do.

Bill moaned, more of a hum, and I knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Three thrusts later, he breathed out, a harsh exhalation of air, and his hard-on seemed to go up further inside me. The strong throbbing matched each time he panted, and I was sure I felt his load inside me. He pulled out after a few more pulses, and feeling his cock come out almost made me cum again.

I laid there on my stomach for a few minutes, and Bill sat on the floor, panting softly. He was the first to speak. “So, thank you.”

At a loss for anything else, I murmured, “You’re welcome.”

I heard him stand up, and his zipper closing over his cock. His hand ran over my buttocks, and he said, “Time for me to go.”

I sat up and looked at him. “Going?”

He smiled. “Yeah, have to fly home in a couple of hours. Great fuck, by the way.”

A moment later he carried his overnight bag out. It was just after seven, and I let him out the front door. After he’d grabbed his Uber, I grabbed my boxers and shimmied into them, and made my way back to our bedroom.

Claire was still asleep, and I crawled into bed next to her.

She woke up as I was dozing off. “Did Bill leave?”

“Yeah. Had a flight home to catch.”

“Okay.” Then after a moment, she asked, “What did he want?”

“Nothing, just to say goodbye and thank us for our hospitality…” I didn’t want to explain what had happened, and I half-believed it was a dream.

Claire turned over, grinning. “So, he thanked you personally, did he?”

I nodded.

“He mentioned wanting to thank you personally.” She repeated the word again, this time with a bit more humor leaking into her voice.

Eager to end the conversation, I mumbled, “He did. Personally.”

“He was really happy we let him watch you pound my pussy that one weekend. It really helped him cope with his life stuff.” She snuggled in to me. “How did he thank you, sweetie? Did he suck your cock like he told me he was going to?”

My eyes shot open, and I stammered for a moment, before giving her a faint “yes.”

Claire looked pleased. “Bill’s the kind of guy who is happy with whatever he finds in someone’s pants. Did I tell you he really appreciated you letting him watch us?”

“Um, he did… I thought he was going to watch us, maybe join in.”

Claire giggled. “No time, but I’m fine with him giving you that particular gift. Did you two do anything else?”

I found myself describing everything, the incredible blowjob, sharing my cum with him, letting him fuck my mouth and ass. Claire looked immensely pleased with herself the whole time, running her fingers over her pussy while I talked. “I wish I’d watched the two of you. Did you like having your cock in his mouth, and getting fucked in the ass?”

Admittedly I did, and said so.

“I was there with Bill the first time he gave a blowjob. Showed him everything I know, and we both gobbled that guy’s cum. Nice to see he still knows how…”

She smiled more broadly, and moved in closer to me. “Next time, he’ll arrive on a Thursday, and leave on Sunday. Plenty of time for the three of us to get together.”

I heard myself saying, “I can’t wait!” And I meant every word.

Any lost composure had been regained by the time I arrived outside the pub-a good thing, because although I was a few minutes early, Sloan crept up beside me almost immediately.

“Wyatt, buddy, how’s things?” he asked, grasping my hand firmly and pulling me close.

“Pretty good, and you?” We framed ourselves against the brick exterior so as not to block the narrow sidewalk.

“Not too bad. Same as last time we saw each other, I guess.”

I indicated toward the pub’s entrance and said, “Same place.”

“Same fucking place, dude. We’re an exciting bunch, let me tell you.”

We both laughed at this. I had always been a bit taken with Sloan’s presence. All told, he wasn’t much taller than Marie, and surefooted in every meaning of the word. He possessed a stockiness not only self-described, but from which he derived a sense of personal pride. It felt good to be with him again.

“Marie tells me that we’re meeting your man tonight.”

“Is there some message thread I’m not a part of or something? Word sure gets around.”

He laughed and smacked the wall with an open hand. “Well, hers and mine, I guess.”

“Oh, right. Anyway, he’s just a friend, and I think you’ll like him, Sloan. He’s a really good guy.”

“If it’s the Mikey I’m thinking of, then I already know him.”

“Wait…oh, fuck. High school, right?”

He nodded.

“Sorry, I totally forgot you went to Brighton.”

“It’s okay. I don’t talk about it much,” he said. “Not too many fond memories from that age.”

I smiled. “He even said he was a Bengal. I’m just surprised you never came to mind.”

Sloan shrugged. “Yeah, when I saw his picture on your phone he looked familiar to me. But I didn’t think much of it until Marie said his name.”

“Crazy,” I said. The temptation became too great and I asked, “Do you remember anything about him?”

He grinned. “Well, the fact that I remember him at all should tell you he was popular. I didn’t give a shit about people in high school. But he was a pretty prominent guy.” He paused, eyeing me at little.

“What?”

“You’re loving this, aren’t you?”

“You got me,” I said. “Obviously I’m obsessed with him. Stop teasing me.”

“Okay, okay. Honestly, it’s not like I ever talked to him. Not to mention he was a grade up. He was a jock. He was rowdy and annoying in the halls just like the rest of the jocks. Let me think…he was a lot skinnier. Like…tall but-I don’t know-scrawny. If that picture is actually him then the guy’s really bulked up. Good for him. Man, I’m putting myself to sleep with this shit.”

I laughed. “Don’t hurt yourself. I just wanted to know if he was a nice guy.”

“I don’t remember. But I don’t think it matters. People change a lot after high school.”

“They really do,” I said.

“You could have gotten a table,” said Marie after nearly blasting past both of us. She grabbed our wrists and pulled us toward the door, letting go only as her purse slipped down from her shoulder and into the crook of her arm. “Whoops. Got to keep my moneybag secure, seeing as tonight is on me.”

“Only it’s not on you,” I protested as we stepped inside.

“That’s what you think,” she said. “Is this table okay with everyone?”

Marie ordered us a pitcher and we took it in gradually; she claimed two full glasses for herself, which was only fair. “I think,” she declared as she poured the second, “that we should consider a direct flight to Bangkok, or maybe Saigon. Then we can hop around as we please.”

I nodded. “Flights to Bangkok aren’t bad. But Seoul is cheaper. We’re still doing Seoul, right?”

“Well, if price is the biggest factor, then we should go straight to Taipei,” she said. “I’m just stuck on Thailand and Vietnam. I could literally spend the whole month in only those two countries. And yes, we can do Korea. I’m just being selfish because I’ve already been. Several times.”

“If we go to Seoul, it would help a lot that you speak Korean,” said Sloan.

“Are we going to Hong Kong, too, Sloan?” she asked, poking a finger at him. “When exactly do we get to take advantage of your Cantonese?”

“I hope we’re going to Hong Kong,” I said.

“Everyone speaks english in Honk Kong,” said Sloan.

She shook her head. “Nope. That’s not true.”

“Fine. But a lot more than in Korea.”

I placed my hands flat on the table. “Let’s just assume we’re going to have issues communicating in most places. I mean, none of us speaks Thai or Vietnamese, right?”

“True,” said Marie. “So it sounds to me like we’re talking about more countries and shorter stays. That’s okay with me. It’ll also be more expensive, but I really do think it’s the way to go.”

“No matter how you slice it, it’s cheaper than Europe,” said Sloan.

“Very true,” I said, taking comfort in the fact.

We launched into a discussion concerning the solidification of flights. It was settled that we would first fly nonstop to Taipei, explore for a few days and then depart for Bangkok.

Marie snatched up her phone and began taking notes. “Cheap is good for the long flight,” escort pendik she declared. “I’m on board with that now.”

“I’ve always wanted to visit Taiwan,” said Sloan, wearing a dreamy expression.

For another half-hour we continued chipping away at a vague order of events.

“I would feel better saving some more money before booking flights,” Sloan confessed.

“Thank you,” I said.

“Totally fine,” said Marie. “It’s too early to book anyway. And we need more time to let the plan sink in. We’ll reconvene-oh,” she said, turning to me with an injured expression, “we’ll have to meet up online, if you’re away.”

“That’s fine,” I said. “Yes, I’ll be gone by the time we book flights. It’s okay.”

She continued looking at me, her eyes narrowing in casual suspicion. “It’s not okay, but we’ll deal.”

“That’s right,” said Sloan. “We’ll deal. The good thing is that we’re guaranteed a month with you this summer.”

“Exactly,” I said.

Sloan’s words seemed to have chased off any of Marie’s immediate concerns. She smiled and began waving vigorously until she had obtained the attention of a server. “Can we do shots?” she asked, once he arrived at the table.

I was unsure whether the question was meant for us or for the tired-eyed employee who stood patiently at my left. “If you’re buying,” I said.

“Tequila?” she pleaded.

“No,” said Sloan.

“Fine. Whiskey it is.” She turned to the server. “Just the house stuff, if you please. I am a working girl.”

He nodded and left for the bar.

My phone rang in my pocket and Marie gasped. “Is he coming? Should I order another?”

“I don’t know,” I said, fishing it out. “Hold on.”

Mikey’s voice greeted me through the earpiece. “Just wanted to make sure you guys are still there. I’m like ten minutes away.”

“Yes, we’re still here-hey, have we ever spoken on the phone before? This feels weird.”

His laugh crackled through. “I felt like being old-fashioned. Also I tried texting but almost walked into a pole.”

“Whoa. Be careful out there.”

We said goodbye and I resurfaced to find that Marie had ordered another shot for Mikey.

“I don’t know if he does shots,” I told her.

“If he doesn’t, I am confident I can change that.” She began to stare me down, eyes wide. I started laughing but still she did not break.

“Okay,” I said. “I’m confident you can, too. Please, just stop that right now.”

“You’re kind of terrifying,” added Sloan.

In the coming minutes I realized how fortunate I was to be facing the door. My positioning made stolen glances toward it less detectable, which permitted a successful masking of my general disquiet as I awaited Mikey’s emergence through it. When it finally did occur, he scanned the interior only briefly before his eyes fell squarely on me. The building’s supporting beams hung low; his height was apparent as ever and he carried an unlikely air of nervousness-although this seemed to be fading presently by the second. His tie was gone, the top two buttons of his pale blue shirt undone. The shirt itself was untucked. He carried his coat as he approached and hung it on the chair next to me.

I stood as he arrived and introduced him to Marie and Sloan, who also stood and shook his hand across the table.

Marie said nothing except for her name. She spent the next moment in what was, to me, a shocking state of repose.

“I think I know you,” said Sloan, once we had reclaimed our seats. “I graduated from Brighton in 2011.”

“Right, okay,” said Mikey. “I was 2010. Hey, were you by any chance a year ahead in math?”

Sloan grinned. “Mr. Huang. Yes. You were definitely in that class. I remember because he would post grades-“

“And we kept swapping spots, right?”

Sloan all but lunged forward. “Yes. That was you? Shit, man, you’re kidding.”

Marie broke her curious silence. “What, like a ranking?”

Sloan nodded. “Yeah, and he would use our student IDs, but I mean, fuck, everyone knew who the top ones were.”

“And that was you guys,” she said.

Mikey grinned shyly. “Right.”

“And who ended up getting first?” I asked.

Mikey pointed silently across the table.

“Come on, Sloan. You never told me you were a year ahead in high school math,” said Marie. “And the top student, no less.”

He shrugged.

Mikey cleared his throat and said, “Your hair used to be longer, right?”

Sloan laughed. “Yes, my hair was longer.”

“Sloan identifies as a man now,” Marie clarified.

“Cool,” said Mikey. He paused, glanced toward me, then added, “I know I’ve learned a lot about myself since high school.”

“Wyatt and I were just saying that earlier,” said Sloan. “I think it’s true for everyone. There are at lot of discoveries to me made.”

Mikey gestured toward the four shots, squared up at the center of the table. “What are these doing here?”

“They’re for you,” said Marie. “It’s sort of an initiation thing. We all had to do it.”

Mikey smiled cautiously at Marie. istanbul escort “Are you sure we’re not sharing them?”

I reached for mine. “She’s just giving you a hard time.”

Marie stuck out her tongue at me and raised up the tiny glass. “To self-discovery.”

Each of us tossed one back, and a short time later, Marie appeared to have warmed to Mikey considerably. She smacked her phone down on the table and said, “You, my friend, have a little catching up to do.”

Mikey indicated toward our empty pitcher. “I’ll order another if you want.”

“Let me,” she insisted.

“No way,” he said, quickly flagging down the server and pulling out his wallet.

As we waited for our next round, Marie leaned in toward Mikey. “Wyatt here says you are fluent in Thai.”

“I grew up speaking it at home.”

She nodded. “And would you care to join us on a trip to Bangkok and beyond?”

Mikey shot me a quick glance, then asked, “How do you know I’d be a good travel companion? We just met, after all.”

“I’ll take Wyatt’s word for it.”

I cleared my throat. “I never said anything about whether he’d be a good travel companion.”

She heaved her purse up onto her lap and began to rummage through it. “You just take some time to think about it, Mikey.”

“Okay,” he said, laughing quietly.

“Behold,” she said. “I’ve got to keep these lips soft. You never know what the night has in store.” As she applied the balm she cast an ominous look around the table.

Sloan’s hand beckoned for it and she passed it to him.

Much of the newest supply of beer was deflected toward Mikey, who gave in only because he had paid for it and because, I suspected, he saw that there was indeed catching up to do. He fielded several meat-and-potatoes questions from Marie, and one or two more once Sloan could get a word in. He handled both the inquisition and the alcohol handsomely, the former possibly aided by the latter.

The entire time I felt the subject of his parents swim just below the pine surface of the table, and just as I thought it had sunk out of reach, Sloan said, “Your folks are still in Corbin, then?”

“They’re gone,” said Mikey. A speck of hesitation followed. “But it’s okay.”

Neither Marie nor Sloan asked for any clarification. Sloan sat back slightly and said, “Sorry about that.”

Mikey offered a subtle raising of his glass and drank. Each of us did the same. The moment was somber but short-lived, and five minutes later we had forgotten about it entirely.

“Give it back,” Sloan was wailing to Marie, who had stolen his phone as punishment after he suggested she would be a terrible driver. “Please, give it back.” He reached aggressively for it and she held it tightly against her chest. They both laughed wildly, but neither was ready to back down.

“No. Say you’re sorry.”

“Fine, I’m sorry.”

Slowly she released her grip and he snatched it away, lifting the device above his head and waving it like a prize. After pocketing it he said, “All I meant was that I couldn’t picture you behind the wheel.”

“That’s not how you put it.”

“Alright. Fair enough. That’s how I should have put it.”

“It still sounds mean. You’d better dance with me at length tonight, and not disappear with another lady-friend like you did last time.”

“I’ll stay with you. Or better yet, I’ll find you someone to disappear with instead. How’s that sound?”

Marie appeared genuinely hopeful. “That sounds nice. Look,” she said, gesturing over at Mikey, “we’re boring the new guy to death.”

Mikey laughed. “Fuck, I’m just enjoying the show.”

She smiled warmly at him. “You’re a very good sport. Come on, everyone, time to get out of here.”

Marie and Sloan walked ten feet ahead, leaving Mikey and me momentarily on our own.

I turned to him after we had pressed through a crowd outside an adjacent bar. “So, can Mikey dance? That’s what I want to know right now.”

He stumbled playfully a few steps ahead of me, covering his face with his hands. “No, Mikey cannot dance. I’m terrified.”

“That was a trick question. Everybody can.”

“Shut up. That’s not even technically true.”

“Oh, I agree that it’s not technically true. But through one’s own personal definition of dancing-“

“Stop.” He held up his hand. “I know what you’re going to say, and I hate it already. There must be some kind of public consensus over what is good dancing and what isn’t. I’ve hardly danced since high school. I know my limitations.”

“You know what? Fuck public consensus. Fuck all of that. I’m going to think you’re fucking great, no matter what.” I hung back for a moment, concerned that this concoction of words had solidified, for all the world to see, my state of insobriety.

Mikey just regarded me in silence for a second before throwing his arms around my torso, clasping his hands just below my shoulder. We continued precariously forward as he planted an instantaneous kiss on my cheek. There was the slightest wetness to it, for which he apologized, wiping at the spot with escort kurtköy his thumb.

“Leave it there,” I insisted.

He backed away and we returned together to our stride, hands in pockets, as if nothing had happened.

“I missed you, too,” he said.

“What?”

“Earlier, at the office, you said you’d missed me. I’m saying that I missed you, too.”

I offered him a smile and noticed a thick wave of black hair had slipped down almost to his eyes. I reached over and brushed it up out of the way. “I’m glad you left it long on top,” I said.

“Really? I was thinking maybe it should have been shorter, like yours.”

“You’re wrong,” I said. “Short is good for hair like mine, but black hair is just so…spectacular. It deserves some presence. The more the better.”

“You know, some people don’t like black hair.”

“They’re completely fucking crazy.”

He laughed. “Hey, before I got mine cut it was getting long enough to put into a bun. I could have been like the guy from Mulan.”

I shook my head. “You racist,” I joked. “You’re not even Chinese.”

Mikey shrugged. “People tell me I look Chinese. Even Chinese people say that. Maybe I have some in my blood. A lot of Thais do.”

“Yeah? Well the guy from Mulan is pretty attractive, now that I think about it.”

“Oh, the dude’s a total babe.”

We hurried along to rejoin Marie and Sloan, who had just entered the line for the nightclub.

A courtesy storm raged between Mikey and Marie over paying for cover. I insisted on paying for myself, which would be the ultimate outcome for everyone. Ten minutes later our presence fell under a barrage of colorful, strobing lights and rhythmic pulsations, which dove immediately and unapologetically beneath my skin. I concluded that I must have been flat-out drunk by the beginning of our previous visit and this time retained my wits in greater number. That, or Mikey’s presence boosted my awareness; he presently beamed at me and handed me a shot.

“This is for you,” he said.

“Thank you.” I took it from him and leaned in close so that he could hear. “What are you trying to do to me?”

He just raised his eyebrows. We drank them at once and joined Marie and Sloan on the dance floor. It became clear to me after only a few minutes that Mikey held his own in this unfamiliar setting. As he danced he was not rigid, nor was he self-conscious; he relaxed and allowed the music to pound through him. He lacked the skill and control of Sloan, the only person among us who had any formal training, but was easily on par with Marie and me. And more than anything else, he seemed to enjoy all of the activity immensely.

“Why the fuck don’t I do this more often?” he yelled to me at one point.

I, in turn, fought to suppress moments of urgent attraction. This particular club was no stranger to the occasional shirt cast aside. Mikey made do with releasing another button on his own, totaling three from the top. He wore nothing underneath.

As the night carried on, Sloan and Marie stuck close, dancing on increasingly provocative grounds. So did many others in the club. We had since split two more rounds of shots, and as our gazes met again, I saw that Mikey’s eyes now harbored a more persistent desire. When I looked conspicuously down toward the exposed portion of his chest, he took my hand and brought it up against his skin. He was warm, damp with sweat. We danced against one another now, packed in among the crowd. This was new territory for Mikey-it was public, but our identities were scrapped among the club’s wild mass of patrons. He ground himself hard against me at the waist. Cautiously, I rotated myself so that my back was to him. His lips landed repeatedly against my neck. He brought his arms around me, up, felt my chest, and again thrust his waist quietly, firmly into me. I felt his pressure against my backside recede. He said into my ear that he needed to step outside and cool down, asking if I would come with him.

“Of course,” I said.

The cold night air was an instant blast of relief. We had not bothered to retrieve our coats from the check, but I had worked up enough body heat to sustain me for some time. My ears felt like they had been jammed with cotton.

“Thanks,” Mikey said to me. “It was getting a little too hot in there.”

I was all but certain he spoke figuratively, or else had intended both meanings. I told him that I agreed.

“Fuck,” he said. “Twelve-thirty. How late do you guys like to stay out?” He laid his words down deliberately, but they stepped slightly over one another.

I shrugged. “Until whenever. I’m ready to go any time.” I noticed my own voice slurring as I spoke. “Let’s get our coats.”

“What about your friends?”

“Don’t worry about them. They don’t give a fuck, really.”

“We should at least tell them we’re going,” he said.

“Right, we’ll find them and then go to coatcheck.”

This plan agreed with him and we stepped somewhat resentfully back into the hot and humid mess, pressing indelicately through until we had reached them. I told them we were ready to go and apologized for bailing.

“Go,” yelled Marie, pointing drunkenly and with a slightly bent finger toward the door. “My god, look at you two. Young, healthy and both fit as fuck. How are you not fucking each other’s brains out right this second? My mind is literally blown. Go,” she repeated.

Ein warmer, mediterraner Windhauch umgab Pierre, als er an der Hand von Robert in Nizza das Flugzeug verließ. Er trug ein leichtes sommerliches Seidenkleid und Ballerinas, war diskret geschminkt und dank seiner neuen Unisexfrisur nur von sehr neugierigen Beobachtern als junger Mann zu erkennen. Im Taxi fuhren sie nach Cannes, ins Hotel Majestic. Am Nachmittag war das erste Treffen angesetzt, zudem Pierre Robert begleiten sollte.

Roberts Geschäftspartner war ein kultivierter Araber, der seit Jahren in London lebte. Er hatte die sechzig überschritten, sah aber mit seinem vollen Haar und dem grauschwarzen Schnauzbart fast so aus wie der einst berühmte Schauspieler und Frauenliebling Omar Sharif. Pierre fand ihn charmant, registrierte seine harmlosen Flirtversuche und war doch empört, als Robert ihm später sagte, wenn er mit Faris ins Bett ginge, würde das dem Geschäft sehr helfen. „Du weißt doch, Araber haben nicht nur einen Harem, sie machen es auch gerne mit süßen Knaben wie Dir, erst recht ,wenn sie Frauenkleider tragen.”

Pierre machte Robert eine kleine Szene. „Ich bin doch nicht Deine Dirne, Du kannst mich doch nicht vorschicken, um Deinen Geschäftsabschluss zu bekommen.” Pierre war wütend, enttäuscht und sah süß aus in seinem Zorn. Die flachen schwarzen Lackschuhe und das schwarze Lederkleid mit dem Reißverschluss, der vom Schlüsselbein bis zum Saum lief, ließen ihn sehr sexy aussehen, wie ein schlankes, flachbrüstiges Mädchen. Ja, er würde mit diesem Araberhengst ins Bett gehen — und sich zugleich an Robert rächen.

Faris umgarnte und hofierte Pierre beim Abendessen in seiner Suite nach allen Regeln der Kunst. Er schmeichelte ihm und befingerte ihn lange und lüstern. Pierre wurde nicht einfach nur geil, er spürte eine Zuneigung zu diesem schönen Mann, ihm gefiel die Vorstellung, die Nacht mit ihm zu verbringen und sich verwöhnen zu lassen. Dann waren sie beide ganz nackt, lagen auf den seidenen Laken in Faris’ Suite, und Pierre gab sich alle Mühe, den dunklen, wohlgeformten und beschnittenen Schwanz seines Lovers steif zu lecken. Faris stöhnte, er war unübersehbar geil auf den hübschen Knaben, aber er würde nicht hart genug werden, um in Pierre einzudringen. Der Jüngere begann, ihn überall zu küssen und zu streicheln, ja, er hatte Lust, dass dieser herrliche Mann ihn penetrierte, er flüsterte: „Ich will Dich ganz tief in mir, ich will escort çekmeköy nur Deinen Samen.” Doch es half nichts. Faris edles Glied wurde zwar praller, doch als er es an der süßen Rosette seines Geliebten ansetzte, fehlte ihm die Härte. Hingebungsvoll leckte Pierre Faris bis zum Höhepunkt, und um ihm zu zeigen, wie sehr er ihn wollte, schluckte er den ganzen Samen.

Sie lagen lange beieinander, Pierre hatte sich verwöhnen lassen von den kundigen Händen seines Lovers, hatte kreischend wie ein Weib abgespritzt und Faris geküsst und liebkost und ihm gesagt, wie sehr er ihn begehre. Ihr Gespräch kreiste bald auch um das Geschäftliche, und während Faris an Pierres kleinen Knöspchen spielte und der jüngere wieder heiß wurde, verriet er er Faris auch, dass Robert ihn geschickt, er abgelehnt habe und heimlich gekommen sei, weil er Faris attraktiv fand und sich an Robert rächen wollte.

Der mächtige Mann war erstaunt über Pierres Offenheit und geschmeichelt. Seine Menschenkenntnis sagte ihm auch, dass der androgyne Knabe ihm nichts vorgespielt, sondern ihn wirklich begehrt hatte. Und er spürte auch jetzt, wie seine großen, kräftigen Hände den schlanken Leib in Wallung brachten, wie Pierre maunzte, wie eine brünstige Frau, und in seinem Glied begann es auch wieder zu zucken. Eine Frau hätte er befriedigen können, er hätte in ihre saftige Feige gleiten und sie solange stoßen können, wie er wollte. Aber für die liebliche Rosette wurde sein Glied einfach nicht mehr hart genug. Und während er dabei Pierres flachen Bauch streichelte, kam ihm eine irrwitzige Idee in den Kopf. Warum sollte er diesen hinreißenden Knaben nicht seinem Geschäftspartner ausspannen und ihn zur richtigen Frau machen. Wenn dieses süße Geschöpf anstelle des Penis eine geile Feige hätte, würde er jede Nacht bei ihr liegen und sie besteigen können.

Als sie am nächsten Morgen zusammen in der Suite frühstückten, als sie turtelten wie ein Liebespaar, da unterbreitete der reife Mann dem Knaben seine Idee. Pierre war schockiert — und zugleich war er geschmeichelt, dass der mächtige und einflussreiche Faris ihn so heftig wollte. Er zögerte mit seiner Antwort, redete um den heißen Brei herum, um schließlich mit Tränen in den Augen zu bekennen, dass er das nicht über sich brächte, eine Geschlechtsumwandlung, nein, er könne das nicht. istanbul eskort „Ich kann mir doch auch so vorstellen, mit Dir zusammen zu sein, Faris”, schloss er mit tränenerstickter Stimme. Der Ältere war, entgegen seiner üblichen Haltung, fast gerührt, wie dieses androgyne Püppchen ihm zu gefallen suchte. Und er fand eine weise und kluge Lösung bei sich. Er würde den Deal mit Robert machen, für dessen Zustandekommen Pierre mit Faris ins Bett gehen sollte; so würde er, so seine Hoffnung, Pierre nicht kompromittieren vor Robert, sondern ihm Macht über den Mann geben, der ihn so gefühllos zum Instrument hatte machen wollen.

Pierre sagte er nichts von seinem Plan. Sie verabschiedeten sich, tauschten ihre Handynummern aus, und als Pierre am Abend dieses Tages in der gemeinsamen Suite im Majestic Robert empfing, war der bester Laune. Der Deal mit Faris war unter Dach und Fach, und zugleich war Robert in seiner Eitelkeit überzeugt, dass er Pierre dazu gebracht hatte, seinen Plan zu exekutieren. Und sein Penis wurde noch dicker und härter, als er den süßen Knaben vor sich sah, der seine Toilette für den Abend noch nicht beendet hatte, sondern in halterlosen Seidenstrümpfen und einem schwarzen Seidenbody vor ihm stand. Besitzergreifend zog er Pierre an sich, gab ihm die arrogante Härte seines mächtigen Glieds zu kosten, und Pierre, den mächtige Männer einfach erregten, gab nach, vergaß einstweilen den Groll und spürte Sehnsucht und Geilheit aufsteigen.

Robert machte sich nicht die Mühe, sich zu entkleiden, er ließ die Hose seines Maßanzugs herunter und entblößte sein herrliches Glied unter den Boxershorts. Pierre kniete sich vor ihn und begann, den dicken Schaft mit den Händen und die glänzende purpurfarbene Eichel mit den Lippen zu verwöhnen. Robert war so scharf von seinem Erfolg, dass er schnell und heftig spritzte, in Pierres Gesicht und Hals. Und als Pierre sich erhob, den Älteren umschlang und auf den Mund küsste, fühlte er bald, wie Robert schon wieder hart wurde. „Hart genug, um mich gleich zu bumsen”, dachte Pierre obszön, und er erschauerte: Ja, er hatte gewaltige Lust, von diesem potenten Mann gebumst zu werden. Und er ließ sich bumsen, ließ sich Roberts Samen in sein Jungenvötzchen spritzen und kam selber wie von Sinnen.

Im schwarzen Seidenkleid und flachen Lackpumps schritt er dann an der Hand seines escort içerenköy Begatters ins Restaurant. Sie tranken Champagner, Pierre wurde beschwipst und ganz weich, so dass er hinterher, als sie im breiten Bett auf seidenem Laken lagen, wie ein Mädchen bettelte, Robert möge ihn anschauen beim Akt, möge auf ihm liegen. Sein eitler, potenter Geliebter erfüllte ihm den Wunsch, ihn erregte Pierres weibisches Gebaren, das weit über die feminine Kleidung und Schminke hinausreichte, maßlos, und er genoss es, während er sich in dem süßen Popöchen entlud, wie innig und lustverzerrt zugleich der Geliebte sich unter ihm wand, maunzend, winselnd, wimmernd. Und Pierre, der seinen „Erwecker” Robert auf eine Weise immer noch liebte, der bereit war, ihm zu verzeihen, schlief befriedigt ein. Am nächsten Tag flogen sie bereits zurück, die zwei Tage Urlaub, von denen Robert gesprochen hatte, waren passé, zu sehr drängte es Robert zurück in die Firma. Pierre hatte seinen Lover am Morgen noch zärtlich zu verführen versucht, indem er Roberts dicken, schönen Penis wie einen Lutscher in den Mund genommen hatte, aber der Ältere war zu abgelenkt gewesen, zu fokussiert auf sein Big Business.

Pierre langweilte sich ein wenig in seiner noblen Penthousewohnung. Robert kam seltener, war beschäftigt bis in die Nacht hinein und machte klar, dass er Pierre auch nicht als seinen Assistenten brauchte. Wenn er in die Firma kam, blieb er oft lange bei Roberts Sekretärin Frau Krüger sitzen, jener hellsichtigen Frau, die zu ihrem Chef über Pierre gesagt hatte: „Ich bin sicher, er sähe richtig gut aus in einem Kleidchen.” Sie war gepflegt und elegant, immer damenhaft in ihrem ganzen Benehmen, eine Frau von Mitte fünfzig, die unverheiratet war und ihre besten Jahre für ihren Chef gearbeitet hatte. Pierre, der zu ihrem Vertrauten wurde, spürte rasch, dass sie lange wohl gehofft hatte, ihr Chef würde mit ihr etwas anfangen. Doch sie war klug und realistisch, hatte ihre Enttäuschung offenbar verarbeitet und besaß in ihrer Position Macht und Einblick wie sonst kaum jemand in der Firma.

Eines späten Nachmittags nun, Pierre saß im Penthouse und starrte mal in sein Buch, mal in den Hamburger Regen, hörte er, wie sich der Fahrstuhl in Bewegung setzte, der direkt in die Wohnung führte. Sollte das Robert sein, Robert, den seine männliche Lust für ein Rendezvous zum Geliebten führte? Pierre wurde heiß, sein Penis regte sich in der grauen Seidenhülle eines eleganten Bodys, den er unter einem mädchenhaften blauen Samtkleid trug, mit dem die blauen halterlosen Strümpfe und die blauen Pumps perfekt harmonierten. Er war bemüht, immer hübsch zurechtgemacht zu sein, für den Besuch des Geliebten. (Fortsetzung folgt)

Im ersten Moment war ich nicht sicher, ob ich das gut oder schlecht finden sollte, schließlich war Hella im Straßenverkehr ums Leben gekommen und nun das? Begeistert zeigte mir Horst, die Bikes die er in die engere Wahl gezogen hatte und blubberte mich mit allerlei technischen Details voll.

„Und wann machst Du Deine erste Probefahrt?”

„Montag dachte ich!”

Ich sah wie viel Spaß er an seinem wiederentdeckten Hobby hatte und somit schloss ich innerlich bereits Frieden mit seinem Plan.

Nach seiner Probefahrt und die begeisterten Erzählungen hatte er mich vollständig überzeugt und während ich seinen nicht endend wollenden Berichten lauschte, fasste ich heimlich den Plan, nun ihn zu überraschen und auch den Motorradführerschein zu machen.

In den Folgewochen musste ich immer mal wieder ein Geschäftsessen und einen späten Außer-Haus-Termin erfinden, um die Theorie- und Fahrstunden zu absolvieren. Auch Horst blühte immer mehr auf und erzählte mir von seinen Ausfahrten mit seinen neuen Bikerkumpels, die er über seinen Händler kennengelernt hatte und mit denen er regelmäßig Touren unternahm. Somit gab es eigentlich nach Feierabend nur ein Thema und ich konnte ohne meinen geheimen Plan zu offenbaren in das Fachsimpeln mit einsteigen und mein Theoriewissen nebenbei zu verfestigen. Horst freute sich, dass ich auch so viel Interesse zeigte und strahlte mich an.

„Lass mich noch mal ein bisschen Praxis aneignen, dann nehme ich Dich mal mit auf eine Ausfahrt, OK?”

Ich nickte.

Nach 3 Monaten war es dann soweit und ich hatte die praktische Prüfung. Es war ein schöner Sommertag Anfang Mai und alle waren bester Laune und ich konnte eine entspannte Prüffahrt ohne jegliche unerwartete Ereignisse absolvieren und konnte stolz mit meinem Führerschein nach Hause fahren.

Als ich die Auffahrt zur Garage hochfuhr, grüßte mich ein vor dem Haus stehender Biker, den ich als Fred, seinen Motorradhändler und Biker Kumpel erkannte. Ich parkte den Wagen und ging zur Eingangstür, als diese sich öffnete und Horst einen bärtigen Mitte Zwanziger Bärchen verabschiedete.

„Besten escort acıbadem Dank, Kevin. Danke für´s Bringen!”

Als Horst mich sah, brach er das weitere Gespräch ab.

„Tschüss Fred, bis bald!” winkte er dem Biker zu. Der Junge grüßte höflich und zog den Helm über und setzte sich hinter Fred auf´s Bike.

„Was wollten die denn hier?”

„Och, nur ein spontaner Besuch auf einen Kaffee, die beiden waren in der Gegend!”

„Und wieso war nur der Jungspund drin und Fred nicht?”

„Ach der Kevin merkte erst als sie wieder los wollten, dass er noch mal pissen musste!”

„Ach so, schade, ich hätte die beiden auch gerne mal kennengelernt!”

„Dazu wirst Du am nächsten Wochenende Gelegenheit haben!”

„Ist wieder eine Tour geplant und Du nimmst mich dieses Mal mit?” fragte ich erfreut.

„Jetzt komm doch erst mal rein, das müssen wir doch nicht hier in der Tür besprechen!”

„Hast auch wieder recht!”

Drinnen erwartete mich eine Flasche Champagner.

„Oh, was gibt es zu feiern?”

„Sag Du es mir!” antwortete Horst mit einem breiten Grinsen.

Ich war aber zu aufgeregt um dies irgendwie zu deuten. Ich spannte ihn nicht lange auf die Folter und zog meinen Führerschein aus der Tasche.

„Warum zeigst Du mir Deinen Führerschein?” fragte Horst scheinheilig.

„Na dann schau ihn Dir doch mal genauer an!”

„Du hast den Motorradführerschein gemacht?”

„Ja mein Schatz, heimlich und heute bestanden. Ich habe gesehen, wie viel Lebensfreude Dir Dein neues Hobby wieder gebracht hat, da musste ich nicht lange überlegen!”

„Wow, Du bist echt ne Wucht!”

Er nahm mich in die Arme und küsste mich. Dann stießen wir auf die Neuigkeiten an und Horst schlug vor in den Garten zu gehen. Etwas verwundert willigte ich ein und schöpfte immer noch keinen Verdacht.

Hinter dem Wintergarten war die Rückseite der Garagen offen und auf den Pflastersteinen stand ein nigelnagelneues Motorrad. Sofort stürmte ich begeistert auf die Moto Guzzi zu.

„Ach so ist das, dafür war der Schampus istanbul eskort um auf das neue Motorrad anzustoßen?”

„Ja genau.”

„Aber wieso brauchst Du denn schon wieder ein neues Motorrad? Das „alte” ist doch kaum ein halbes Jahr alt.”

„Ich brauche kein neues Motorrad!”

Ich schaute ihn irritiert an.

„Aber Du!” und mit den Worten hielt er mir den Zündschlüssel vor die Nase.

„Aber, aber, woher….?”

Ich war geplättet, dass er trotz meiner Geheimniskrämerei von meinem Führerschein Wind bekommen hatte.

„Ich wollte Dir Deine Überraschung nicht kaputt machen, aber ja ich wusste davon. Kevin hat Dich in der Fahrschule gesehen und es mir erzählt.”

„Oh, wenn ich das gewusst hätte, der kann was erleben, wenn ich ihn das nächste Mal sehe!”

„Er kann doch nichts dafür. Er hat Dich gesehen und im Gespräch meinte er, dass Du jetzt wohl auch den Führerschein machen würdest, damit wir zusammen biken könnten. Er wusste doch nicht, dass Du das geheim halten wolltest. Also sei nicht zu hart zu ihm!”

„Stimmt, aber ist das jetzt echt für mich?”

„Woher wusstest Du denn dass ich diese Maschine insgeheim ins Auge gefasst hatte?”

„Ich habe eben aufgepasst, wenn ich Dir wieder neue Maschinen gezeigt habe, bei welcher Du besonders lange geschaut hast.”

„Danke mein Schatz, wollen wir gleich ne Probefahrt machen?”

„Ich dachte Du fragst gar nicht mehr!”

Ich nahm mir den Rest der Woche frei und übte jeden Tag ein wenig um am Wochenende bei der großen Ausfahrt dabei zu sein. Dann lernte ich die ganzen anderen Biker endlich auch mal persönlich kennen, einige hatte ich ja immer mal kurz gesehen, wenn sie Horst abholten.

Ich schlug Horst vor, dass wir nach der Tour ein großes Barbeque bei uns veranstalten könnten. Er war von meiner Idee begeistert, meinte aber gleich, dass die Biker nichts von uns wüssten, er hatte die alte Geschichte vom unbewohnbaren Penthouse erzählt und dass er das Haus, welches er mit seiner verstorbenen Frau bewohnt hatte, nicht mehr ertragen könne. Also ziemlich genau die Geschichte, escort şerifali die er auch offiziell in der Kanzlei erzählt hatte. Der Grund war, dass er bei mir seinem langjährigen Kumpel zusammengezogen sei, bis er die Krise überwunden hatte.

Horst telefonierte die Biker ab und mein Vorschlag wurde einstimmig von allen angenommen. Bis auf den Teil, dass die Partnerinnen abends dazukommen sollten, dies wurde radikal abgelehnt. Man wolle mal wieder einen „Männer-Abend” machen. OK, sollte mir recht sein.

Den Gründonnerstag verbrachte ich mit den Vorbereitungen, kaufte Grillgut und Getränke ein und bereitete Salat und Dips vor. Ich kam gut voran und Horst ging mir zur Hand. Er war seit Weihnachten wirklich wieder der Alte, außer dass er sich mehr und mehr aus dem Geschäftsleben zurückzog. Das sollte mir recht sein, was natürlich einerseits bedeutete, dass ich mehr in der Kanzlei zu tun hatte, er wiederum mehr Freizeit, die er natürlich hauptsächlich zum Biken nutzte, aber auch in der Küche versuchte er sich immer mehr.

Mit Ende 50 bereitete er sich schon mal auf den Ruhestand vor. Mir war das Recht. Je eher er sich vollständig zurück zog, desto eher bestand die Möglichkeit, dass wir unsere Beziehung endlich öffentlich machen, ja vielleicht sogar heiraten konnten. Darüber hatten wir aber bis dato noch nicht gesprochen und ich war damit absolut einverstanden.

Der Abend sollte noch eine Überraschung für mich bereit halten. Zur Entspannung saß ich bereits im Whirlpool und hoffe dass Horst dazu käme. Als er endlich auf die Terrasse trat, trug er eine hautenge, sehr knackig sitzende Lederkombi. Er hatte für uns beide Lederkombis maß anfertigen lassen und die waren offensichtlich rechtzeitig zu unserer ersten gemeinsamen Ausfahrt rechtzeitig fertig geworden.

Als ich ihn sah, kletterte ich sofort aus dem Whirlpool und trocknete mich schnell ab.

„Wow, die passt ja wie ein Handschuh!” und schon streichelte ich über seine gut ausgebildete Beule zwischen den Beinen.

„Schau mal, ob Deine ebenso gut passt. Dann können wir die morgen gleich einweihen.”

Ich schlüpfte schnell in meine Kombi und sie passte ebenso gut, wie die von Horst. Lüstern schaute er mich an und wir liebten uns auf der Stelle in unserer neuen Ledermontur, bei der wir durch die doppelten Reißverschlüsse ohne Schwierigkeiten an unsere Kronjuwelen kamen und den Druck der letzten Stunden von uns abließen.

Brit Asked to Seduce Another Guy’s Wife

Posted by ThreesomeJoan

About two years ago I was invited by a husband to introduce his wife to the pleasures of being shared.

I am a businessman that travels throughout the UK and Europe. I love seduction. This is Lynn’s story.

I first saw Lynn on an Internet site that is dedicated to sharing wives. She was a stunning 36-year-old brunette (face hidden in those pics) with a fabulous figure — 5’9 “, long legs and 34c breasts. I couldn’t resist adding a comment to her pictures, stating how attractive and arousing I found her. So imagine my delight when a few days later I received an email from Mark her husband, with more pictures asking for my thoughts.

We began chatting online, where after a while he admitted Lynn knew nothing of his posts and that he had a fantasy eating away at him to see her with another man. She had flatly refused, on the basis that she believed other men would not find her attractive enough! How wrong she was!

Mark told me her online ID and how she liked to have normal, non-sexual chat online with people. He begged me to start chatting with his wife online, so after finding her online, I did and we starting out purely innocently. After weeks and weeks of talk about kids, weather, holidays and the like, I began to gently flirt with her. She was very responsive to my chat, which I relayed back to Mark. This alone was enough to cause him to get incredibly turned-on.

After another couple of weeks, the chatting started to get a little spicier and she’d sent me a dressed picture of herself. She really was stunning, and I struggled to understand her shyness, but it made her all the more appealing. I had to keep Mark aware of the developments and then he made a wild move. He pretended to have found our chat on her computer and confronted her! She was so embarrassed, but he told her “this is the chance to meet another guy!” She had already made the first steps and couldn’t really back out. To cut a long story short, we arranged to meet for a lunchtime drink.

It was to be just a flirty drink at a country pub, 15 miles or so from where she lived. Mark drove her there and sat in the car whilst she very nervously came inside.

I was wearing a business suit, dress shirt and tie, and was impressed to see that she had put plenty of effort into her presentation. She had done her make up stylishly, wore a close-fitting knee length dress with smartish stiletto heels (not too high), looked so classy and turned every head in the pub. It was obvious that despite us both sporting wedding rings, that we were not married to one another.

We sat in a far corner, and she needed two stiff drinks to begin to calm down at all. Her face was flushed, and she was clearly very nervous, but very excited at the same time. I gently rested my hand on her thigh, and I could see that sent an electric shock through her.

When I first leaned over and gently kissed her cheek she blushed so much, and when I lifted her long dark hair to kiss her neck, she let out an audible sigh of excitement.

I allowed my hand to slide up her thigh, taking some of the material with it. It went high enough to expose just a hint of lace at the top of her stocking. I would have liked to have left it on show, but she smoothed the skirt down, embarrassed.

We were in a secluded part of the county pub, so my hand was stroking up and down the base of her back. She was breathing deep and her breasts were swelling under her dress. I raised my hand and rubbed a finger across her breast, feeling the nipple harden under my touch. She was getting very horny… and remember this is in the middle of the day in broad daylight.

Lynn was a delight. Everything about her was stylish. She wasn’t wealthy, but she certainly had class. Her hair, her make up, her dress, her shoes. Everything, everything just looked good.

I’ll remind you that she had not wanted to embark on any kind of extra marital activity… not because she thought it morally wrong, but because she assumed that men would not find her attractive. She genuinely believed that, and she couldn’t have been more wrong.

By this point she had consumed around 21/2 glasses of red wine and I could tell that she probably didn’t often drink. Especially at lunchtime. I asked if she’d eaten. She told me she had been too nervous to do so. She declined my offer of lunch and asked if we could leave the bar as it was so public and (in her words) she “wanted to be able to chat more intimately to me.”

The country pub had a small hotel to the side. Just escort dudullu a dozen or so rather quaint rooms, with dark oak beams and four-poster beds. I suggested that I would check into the largest they had, which had a large relaxation area, with a sofa and open fireplace.

She seemed to like the idea but emphasized that she didn’t want to go to my bedroom, only to chat. The way her neck was red and her breathing was short, I could tell she was contemplating far more than just that.

I said, “I’ll go on ahead and book myself in for the night, why don’t you go and check on Mark and invite him to join us for a drink in my room?”

For a moment, I thought I had ruined things. The very mention of her husband seemed to make her regret every agreeing to meet me, as though she had quite forgotten that she was a married woman. I simply held her arms fast and looked into her eyes “Lynn, this is exactly what Mark wanted to happen. He wanted us to meet. And he wants us to become better acquainted. Should we leave him in the car wondering how we are?”

She looked very unsure, but wordlessly shook her head and walked towards the pub door to go and see her husband who was sat in his car in the car park.

I went through to reception and checked into the room, paying with cash. The youngish woman behind the counter seemed all too aware that I was not travelling with my wife, after all who checks in with no baggage at 2.30 pm? She smiled, knowingly.

I returned to the bar to find Lynn’s seat now occupied by Mark. He looked really concerned, so I apologized, asking if I had gone too far with my suggestions. Too far? No way, he was delighted with the way things had gone and couldn’t believe the “progress” I had made. He was so excited and the bulge in his trousers was so noticeable it was almost comical.

“Are you joining us?” I asked. He just nodded. I informed him that I didn’t expect him to speak a word unless asked a question and that he could if he wanted get undressed too. He looked speechless.

With that, Lynn returned from the ladies’ toilets, having reapplied some make up and straightened her hair. It was tied up on her head, with a slide preventing it from falling around her shoulders.

She kissed Mark and said, “Are you sure about this, Mark, really are you?”

Mark just whispered “yes,” but I didn’t feel that was enough. I spoke in hushed tones, to ensure no one else heard. “Mark, I would like you to ask me to take Lynn, your wife, to my room, where you would like to see me make love to her?”

Mark just swallowed. Lynn blushed bright red. After a few moments, hardly able to get the words out, Mark whispered the request repeating my exact words. “Say it louder, Mark. Say it loud enough that someone might even hear you.”

At the point I slid Lynn’s dress up to reveal the stocking tops, Mark nearly fainted and said the words far louder this time.

I stood up, lifted Lynn to her feet by the hand and led her toward the hotel rooms. Mark, barely able to walk with his erection, stumbled along behind us bringing the wine and glasses that I had ordered. He walked alongside Lynn and allowed my hand to slide into hers. Already I knew that within a few hours, maybe even a few minutes we were set to become lovers.

This beautiful brunette was going to sleep with me, (not because I look like Brad Pitt or am a six-packed Adonis), but simply because I had seduced her with words and actions.

At the corner, I stopped her and pulled her to me. I kissed her passionately for the first time, and pulled the slide from her hair, causing the curls to cascade around her shoulders. I press my body hard against hers. I know she could feel my cock press into her.

She looked a little bewildered, even sort of “punch drunk” as I took the room key from my pocket.

I opened the door and motioned for Mark to go in first. Lynn was still in the doorway. I told Lynn that the time had come for her to make her decision regarding what happened next. I reminded her what Mark had said in the bar. And that she need not say anything, just act. She looked puzzled. I told her if she wanted what Mark wanted, she should turn her back to me, and allow me to unzip her dress, right there.

For what seemed like an age, she looked down at the ground like a scared child… but then slowly turned her back to me.

I didn’t give her the chance to change her mind and slid the zipper down from top to bottom in one smooth motion.

Her dress slid to the floor as Mark stood there open-mouthed. Without the istanbul bayan escort dress, Lynn was every bit as stylish as with it. She wore black lingerie — a balcony bra (making the very most of her large breasts), matching black briefs and a black suspender belt along with expensive-looking stockings.

I motioned to Mark to sit on a large chair at the far side of the room, at right angles to the large sofa, to where I led Lynn. She went to sit down but I kept her on her feet, my hands moving to her exposed ass.

My hands stroked from stocking top to buttocks, tickling as I went. Another time, this intense touching might have made her giggle, but at that time it just made her shiver and aroused.

Mark was loosening his shirt by undoing several buttons and again it was impossible to not notice the erection he was sporting. He kicked off his shoes and I was sure I saw him remove his socks too. He settled down into the chair and poured us all a glass of red wine.

I was kissing Lynn deeply by then, and pressing myself against her. I was sure she’d be able to tell how much I was aroused too. My cock felt good, pressed against her belly.

I raise my hands to the middle of Lynn’s back. One hand was holding the back of her head, gently stroking her head and neck, the other hand stroking her back. She turned her head to kiss me more passionately. I opened my eyes to see Mark removing his trousers and underpants, leaving him sat in just an open shirt, his hard cock in his hand.

My hand slid up Lynn’s back and unclipped her bra — a sheer fluke to do it so quickly and so effortlessly – but I was grateful for that. Lynn looked at me with a look that said I’d done that too easily and was clearer a pro. I couldn’t help but feel a little smug.

She cupped the bra to her large breasts, but I moved back, taking her hands with me to reveal her gorgeous tits, with large dark nipples that were already puckered and hard.

For the first time, Lynn seemed to accept that she looked good. She knew that she had fabulous tits. Big, firm and with hard nipples. She put her hands underneath them and I lowered my face to flick a tongue across the breasts and very gently nibbled the nipples. The sounds coming from her lips left me with no question whether or not her nipples were sensitive. Her legs almost buckled as the nipples grew larger and darker.

With one of her tits still in my mouth, I dropped my hands to the waistband of her panties and began to push it down. She then did something that took me by surprise. She lifted my face to hers and kissed me, whilst moving her own hands to her panties, to push them down. I felt her legs move as she stepped out of them.

My hand dropped between her legs and for the first time I felt her nakedness against my fingers. Her fur was in a natural shape, jet black and trimmed quite short. I stepped back to take in the view of this woman in front of me.

Despite her 36 years and having given birth to two children, she still had a stunning figure. Her large breasts were still firm, her thighs slender… and even the slightly visible stretch marks of her childbearing simply added to the beauty of this real woman.

I grabbed at her breasts and pushing them together, licked my tongue across the two nipples, squeezing her tits. I sucked hard on first one and then the second nipple, enjoying her murmured approvals.

I gently pushed her back toward the sofa and she fell against the seat, with her back upright, but legs open. I dropped to my knees and continued to squeeze and lick her big tits. My hands then dropped to her thighs and gently stroking them, then moved down to her knees, pushing them apart.

I kissed the insides of her thighs, slowly moving higher until I reached the soft skin of her inner thigh above the stocking tops. I heard Mark call out “Don’t go any higher, Lynn really doesn’t like her pussy to be licked.” I shot an angry look across at him and hissed for him to be quiet. He wouldn’t interrupt us again, I was sure of that.

I simply carried on… and kissed against the outer folds of Lynn’s pussy. I glanced upwards to see that she was more than happy with what I was doing. Her eyes looked all glazed. I kissed around and then on her pussy lips, licking my tongue slowly along its length, enjoying how it naturally parted. She was soaking wet. The honey-sweet taste of her pussy was delicious, and I tongued deep into her sopping wet pussy.

After a few minutes, I allowed my tongue to slide higher to reach her engorged clitoris, and with each flick of my escort kozyatağı tongue I felt her body jolt with excitement. My tongue swirled around the hard little clitty, making her wetter and wetter. “Make me cum, make me cum!” she cried (and I mean literally, as a few tears were now rolling down her cheeks).

I had probably spent no more than 7 or 8 minutes licking her, holding her lips apart at times, before she exploded with an orgasm that saw her back arch and her stomach muscles go taut. She let out a loud and gratifying moan which I am sure would have been heard by any guests staying in the room next door (so maybe our daytime adventure did have its advantages!)

My mouth, in fact much of my lower face was covered in her delicious wetness. I continued to lick against her by then gaping cunt, but she pulled me up towards her, the contact too intense, so close to her orgasm.

By moving up, my hard cock came closer and closer to her pussy. I was still almost fully dressed, having only had time to remove my jacket. I stood up and removed all my remaining clothes and was pleased to see one of Lynn’s hands move to her erect nipple, the other to gently toy with her pussy.

When naked, I moved back between her legs, planning to tease her with my cock for a few moments, but before I even realized I was close to her, my cock slid deep inside her, so wet was her sweet little pussy.

Despite bearing two children, and being soaking wet, the muscles of Lynn’s pussy still clenched around my (average sized) cock like a youngster and she held me inside her. I pushed her legs to the side and drove hard into her willing pussy, kissing her passionately and telling her how gorgeous she looked, how sexy she was, and even how tight she was.

After a few minutes in that position, I lifted her onto her feet, with her hands on the back of the sofa, placing one of her knees onto the seat. In that position, her pussy was easily accessible from behind and I slid my cock in again. From the position her husband was in he had the perfect view of the entire length of my cock sliding in and out of his wife’s cunt.

I told Mark to move in close so that he could see everything. At one point his face was just inches from my cock and her pussy, I could almost feel his breath. He was clearly very turned-on. I heard a groan from behind me as a huge arc of cum erupted from Mark’s cock, this hand a blur as he wanked furiously.

Lynn and I continued to fuck, sometimes frantic, sometimes quite slowly, trying out a variety of positions. I felt that my own orgasm was not far off and know that I am a heavy-cummer (don’t know of a nicer way to put that!), I wanted to ensure I gave Mark and Lynn an image to remember. I flipped Lynn back over and pushed her legs back almost touching her knees against her shoulders, her stockinged feet set wide apart, still in her high heels. She was only too willing, and I think she had a second smaller orgasm as her pussy violently twitched against my cock.

After a couple more minutes pushing hard and fast into her pussy, I pulled out and felt the cum rise through my cock and fly high into the air and land in heavy, thick strips across both her breasts and one shoulder, then across her belly, then across her pussy and down one thigh. There was so much that she was covered. She kept saying an astonished “oh god, oh god” over and over, rubbing the cum into her marvelous big breasts, round and round.

“Mark, come and tell you wife what you think of her,” I called out as I stood and moved back from this gorgeous woman.

He didn’t have to be asked twice. He dropped to his knees, embracing his wife, telling her over and over how much he loved her. His chest and stomach were no doubt sticky with my cum as he pressed against her body. I noticed that she had cum on her cheek, but Mark flicked his tongue against her cheek and wiped it clean, seemingly savouring its salty taste, knowing what it was. His cock was hard again. It slid straight into her pussy, and within a few seconds he bucked into a second orgasm, filling her pussy with his own cum.

Mark fell against Lynn’s shoulder, clearly a spent force.

I know my role. I leant over Lynn and kissed her firmly on her mouth. “You are an amazing woman. Thank you.” I then kissed her forehead, holding her head firmly between my hands.

“Please, get in touch with me if you would like to meet again. And… I do hope you do.”

With that I collected my things, walked into the bathroom, showered, dressed and walked toward the door.

They were still within one another’s arms as I walked past them. They were embracing tightly, kissing each other. “Thank you” they both whispered as I slipped out the door.

In less than 24 hours we had arranged a second meeting, with them contributing ideas for a wilder session. But that story will have to wait for another time.

Zach and Lila Take a Trip 4

As previous stories in this series have said, this story is a continuation of ones you may want to read. This is the fourth in the series with three stories preceding it. This series is about a man, 19, and woman, 20, exploring their sexuality together at college, with Lila, the more experienced, leading Zach along the path of sexual discovery. This installment picks up where the last one ended. All characters in this story are over 18.

This story builds up to a subsequent one that will be sexier by far than this slow-burn one. It also introduces the topic of sex between a therapist and her clients, all consenting adults. If that’s a problem for any reader, please be forewarned. That kind of sex never happens in real life anyway, right?

Part 1

So Zach and Lila were back. Back at Podunk U. after spring break.

But their trip wasn’t over. Not really. Life-changing events taken place in Florida. They opened the way to a new trip. A different kind of trip.

What happened in Florida didn’t stay in Florida. Back at PU, Zach and Lila had some big new questions to ask themselves.

The question facing them back on campus: “What now?” They could hardly continue as before, L and her gay BFF Z. Not after what had happened on spring break.

Zach had discovered that he loved women, loved sex with Lila. Lila had seen her long-cherished fantasies about Zach fulfilled. The sex was wonderful and continued to be wonderful.

But it didn’t magically resolve the big question in front of them now: “What kind of relationship is this?” There was no question that Zach and Lila were soulmates. They had known this before they went on spring break.

But was this a monogamous relationship now? Was it open? What were the boundaries? Was this even a relationship or just a fuck-buddy arrangement?

One obvious question was how Zach was going to handle coming out as straight. That was their easiest problem to solve. All he had to do was announce to friends that he’d realized he had been mistaken about his sexuality. Now he knew for sure he was straight.

On a small campus with not much outside entertainment (understatement of the century!) in the rural countryside around it, share news like that with a small circle and soon the whole campus would hear it. From the president through the faculty down through the whole student body.

And once the news that Zach was interested in women and available (still to be determined, right?) got around the Podunk campus, there were any number of women who’d be eager to hook up with him. He was a desirable hunk, handsome, with an attractive personality and a sharp mind. More than one PU female, professors not exempted, had been secretly sighing for some time now that he was unavailable as a gay man.

The news that Zach now realized he was straight made it all the more necessary for him and Lila to work out who they were as a couple. And, to be honest, the questions weren’t any easier to resolve when just about every time they were alone together, serious talk got interrupted by passionate sex. Lots of sex.

Having discovered how much they enjoyed sex with each other, Zach and Lila couldn’t keep their hands off each other. They fucked any chance they could get, falling into it like famished people seated at a table laden with delicious food.

They fucked anywhere they could find to fuck. Multiple times a day.

And they talked. And talked some more. And seemed to go in circles.

They seemed to get nowhere by talking.

No matter what happened or how they squared this circle, they’d be together. They knew this. Together as best friends. That was a given. But did that mean that they were also now a monogamous, committed, exclusive couple?

Zach had just discovered how much he loved women, loved fucking women. If he and Lila were going to be exclusive, the door to new experiences learning more about women, what women liked, what he could do for them, would be shut.

He wasn’t sure he wanted that. Nor was Lila. She wanted Zach to have all the new experiences he could find. She didn’t want him to feel tied down.

For herself, too, there were questions about being tied down. It wasn’t just that Lila enjoyed her freedom to choose sexual partners as they came along. It was also that she wasn’t sure commitment of any kind was what she wanted right now. Not with anyone.

As Lila saw things, women had been forced to forego sexual freedom in favor of exclusivity for a long time now. Men could play the field all they wanted and not be blamed. Not women. Lila was determined to demand that same freedom for herself. Not to be put into someone else’s box.

If she and Zach were now a committed couple, she was going to have to adjust escort yakacık how she managed things. She’d have to give a signal to lots of horny guys that she was no longer available for the hot trysts that had become her campus trademark.

The sex between Zach and Lila couldn’t be better. But that wasn’t enough to solve the problem of figuring out who they were as a couple now, who they were for each other. In fact, it was part of the problem.

I realize that I’m going in circles as I try to describe the stuck place in which Zach and Lila now found now themselves. But that’s the point, isn’t it? That’s what Zach and Lila realized they were doing as they tried talking their way to any solution to their relationship problem, day after day.

When they weren’t fucking, that is. When the fucking took over because the talking seemed pointless. Fucking was more fun, after all.

Finally things reached a point where both Z and L decided they probably needed an outsider’s perspective. They had heard good things about a relationship counsellor the Podunk Dean of Students Hank Peabody recommended when students came to him to sort out interpersonal problems.

So enter Emily Plimsoll. Couples counsellor. Specializing in sex therapy. “Special friend” of Hank Peabody. But that was a secret Hank and Emily kept closely guarded for obvious reasons as he channeled students to Emily for counseling.

Part 2

At Podunk, Emily Plimsoll had a reputation for dispensing unorthodox advice and using unorthodox methods that worked. Most of the couples who did sessions with her came back to campus with smiles on their faces. Whatever she did, and this was a mystery, since her clients wouldn’t talk about her sessions with them, it seemed to do the trick. The campus buzz said she was especially good at helping couples dealing with sexual issues they found hard to resolve.

Zach and Lila’s first session with Emily, as she insisted on being called right off the bat, was, well, interesting is the only word that fits. Interesting indeed.

Zach’s first impression: This woman is smoking hot!

Lila’s first impression: I can see that Zach finds Ms. Plimsoll smoking hot, and I can see why. This is going to be interesting.

From that very first meeting, it was clear to Lila especially that Emily Plimsoll was determined to present herself, especially to Zach, as cougar material of an incendiary sort. To greet these new clients, she had staged herself theatrically in the doorway to her office, light from the interior framing her and showing her to best advantage – to hot advantage – as she extended her hand to greet them.

Emily Plimsoll clearly knew how to exhibit herself. With thick honey-colored hair stacked loosely on her head, its highlights caught by the light behind her, with frank inquisitive blue-green eyes and flawless skin, with a svelte figure lots of women would kill for, she immediately triggered a response in Zach. This was not lost on either Emily or Lila. All this set off by an expensive silk blouse with a plunging neckline in a color best described as mother of pearl and a tight-fitting beige woolen skirt that didn’t quite reach her knees and drew attention to her amazing long legs….

From the outset, Zach couldn’t take his eyes off her. With that blouse showcasing her spectacular breasts and the skirt drawing attention to those stunning long legs, Zach didn’t know where to turn his eyes.

Lila, who could read Zach like an open book, watched with amusement. This was going to get interesting, she repeated to herself.

“Thank you for seeing us, Ms. Plimsoll,” the two said in unison, bursting into laughter, since they had not rehearsed a duet greeting. “Definitely a couple” was Emily’s immediate therapeutic observation, though she obviously didn’t vocalize that thought.

“Let’s stop there,” she responded. “It’s plain Emily. No formality inside this office. You’ll be telling me some very personal details about yourselves and your relationship. I want it clear from the outset that I’m here to listen, not play authority-figure games. I’m Emily. You’re Zach and Lila. Agreed?”

“Fine with me, Emily,” Zach nodded. “And definitely with me,” Lila chimed in.

“Okay, let’s get going,” Emily responded, waving Zach and Lila into her office and onto a spacious settee across from the comfortable wingback chair she called her listening chair. The appointments of the office, its expensive furniture in muted pastels and the dramatic bright paintings on the walls, had obviously been chosen by someone with taste, certainly Emily herself, to put clients at ease and also, it has to be said, as a stage for Emily to display herself in the best light possible to counselees.

Both Emily and Lila bayan escort istanbul did not fail to see something amusing that was going on with Zach as he walked with Lila to the settee. This was that he had a hard-on he was trying to keep hidden. It wasn’t just his eyes that had responded naturally to the unmistakable sexuality Emily exuded. The eyes may not have known exactly where to look as he met Emily, but the cock definitely did. As he sat, attempting the old tried-and-true hands folded in the lap method guys often use to try to hide erections, both Emily and Lila took notice. Women have long since gotten wise to that cute hands-in-the-lap trick after all.

Emily knew exactly what Lila was communicating, then, when, as she sat down across from her with Zach trying to divert attention from his hard-on, she looked at Zach and then at Emily and smiled. She might as well have winked.

This was going to be a fascinating counseling experience. Indeed.

I’ve just described Emily Plimsoll, but up to now, haven’t given you a description of either Zach or Lila, except to tell you that in Lila’s eyes, Zach was a specimen of very hunky masculinity, tall, athletic, and handsome. With a full head of dark brown hair and chocolate-brown eyes that women sometimes called puppy-dog eyes when they talked about him; with a crooked smile that melted hearts: Zach could only be described by that old cliché “movie-star handsome.” Think Harrison Ford and his wry smile crossed with Christian Bale and his mane of dark hair and smoldering brown eyes. That was Zach.

That was Zach whom, it has to be noted, Emily was eyeing as a hawk watches a rabbit on the ground from the moment she set eyes on him. But she was a therapist, after all. And therapists watch people closely, right?

Lila was shorter than Zach, athletic and trim, what people might call tomboyish except that her peach-shaped ass, of which Zach could not ever get enough, gave her a voluptuous air that her otherwise trim body might have lacked. Her hair was true black in contrast to Zach’s dark hair, which was between dark brown and black. With piercing blue eyes, coal-black hair, and a porcelain complexion, Lila was striking. Think Parker Posey and Zooey Deschanel mashed up together.

It was impossible for guys to encounter Lila and not look twice, and, if they were paying attention, also impossible not to receive signals of hot sexuality simmering underneath the tailored prep-school look. This was a woman who loved to fuck and would turn those piercing eyes on you and smile as you fucked her.

As Zach and Lila settled next to each other on the settee, Emily Plimsoll said, “Zach and Lila, we’re going to start this session with an exercise to get acquainted. Me getting acquainted with you is what I mean. I’ve put clipboards on the lamp tables at both ends of the settee. I want you each to take one and do a writing exercise for me. I want you to write out a list of reasons you’re coming to see me. Before you get started, I want you to know – I think you already know – that I specialize in working with couples dealing with sexual issues.”

“I want you to know off the bat that nothing you can say to me and each other in this office will shock me or embarrass me. Get that out of your mind. I prefer ordinary language when we’re talking in this office. If you’re talking about having sex with each other, you’re telling me about fucking. We don’t talk about penises and vaginas. We have cocks or dicks and pussies or cunts. Understood? Be who you are when you’re with me, and the counselling will be a lot more effective.”

“Now I want you to take a few minutes to write a short list, up to ten points, about what brings you here. In your own words. No beating around the bush. No false modesty. I don’t want you consulting with each other as you do this. I want your own unvarnished reasons, the reasons each of you think are important, for why you’re here. Agreed?”

Zach and Lila nodded and silently picked up their clipboards and began writing. Here’s what Zach wrote:

1. I’ve discovered I like to fuck.

2. I love women.

3. I love fucking women.

4. I’ve discovered I love pussy.

5. I love fucking pussy.

6. I’ve discovered my cock is made for pussy.

7. I love Lila.

8. I love fucking Lila.

9. Lila and I are best friends, soulmates, always will be.

10. But choosing to be monogamous now will close the door for me to learn more about sex with other women.

Summary: I’m a late bloomer sexually and really want to spend some time with other women. Lila has told me she wants that for me, too. But I feel conflicted because I really love her and don’t want to screw things up with her.

Here’s what Lila wrote:

1. Zach is amazing. escort bağdat caddesi Sex with Zach is amazing. Fucking Zach is amazing.

2. But I’m not sure I’m ready for an exclusive committed relationship.

3. I also don’t want to lose Zach and the precious thing we have together. We belong together.

4. But I’m pretty sure we don’t belong together as a monogamous couple right now. At least, that’s what my gut tells me.

5. To be honest, I’d like our sexual relationship to continue, but I’d like it to be open to new possibilities, to allow us both freedom to fuck other people.

6. Maybe even to allow us freedom to fuck some other people while we’re together. Threesomes? Foursomes? Maybe. Why not?

7. Until he fucked me, Zach thought he was gay. He had never fucked a woman before me. He needs experience fucking more women.

8. I don’t want to stand in Zach’s way.

9. I also want to hold him close, if that makes any sense.

10. I want us to stay together as soulmates, to keep fucking each other, but to open the door to more options and experiences.

Bottom line: I feel confused, jumbled up. Help!

When they’d finished the exercise, Zach and Lila handed their clipboards to Emily. After smiling and thanking them, Emily sat and read each set of comments. In silence. Thinking, as she did so, “Holy shit, this is going to make for some engrossing work together. And hot damn, this is going to be fun, too. If that sexy hunk needs some more lessons from horny women, I know who can give them to him. I know right where he can get them.”

“Old Hank Peabody knew exactly what he was doing when he sent me this cute young couple. He knew some treats would be in store for him when I repay him for this, too.”

What Emily said instead, out loud, after reading the Zach and Lila’s lists, was this:

“I hope you both know nothing you’re telling me here surprises me. I totally understand. You’re far from the first couple from your school to come to me with similar issues. I’m glad you felt free to be frank and to use the language you’d use with each other and friends to talk about these sexual issues.”

“We can work all of this out. I promise you that. We’re going to need more sessions together, obviously. And I want you to know in advance that some of my techniques can be a little bit unorthodox. Anything we try or anything I suggest that makes you uncomfortable, you have to let me know and we’ll deal with that when it happens. I’m a hands-on kind of sex therapist, and if you agree to it, there may be some nudity involved in our sessions, some sexual activity between the two of you with me in the room.”

“And, if you want to explore that route, some sexual activity with me and maybe even with others.”

“How does that sound to you?”

Lila was the first to jump in. She did so immediately: “Sounds like a dream come true. It’s what I was hoping for.”

Zach was dumbfounded: “Wow. That sounds amazing. Hot. But this is like a whole new ballgame for me, and I feel like I’m playing a game where I don’t know the rules.”

Emily: “I understand, Zach. I sort of anticipated you might feel that way. For that reason, if the two of you agree, I’m going to schedule my next session as a one-on-one with you. I can sense some initial problems you and I need to work on alone together before the relationship counseling really kicks in.”

“That okay with you?”

“It absolutely is, Emily, if Lila’s on board with it,” Zach replied.

Beaming that same smile she beamed when she and Zach first sat on the settee and he tried to hide his hard-on, Lila replied, looking Emily straight in the eye, “You bet it’s alright.” She had, after all, seen the bed in the room just off Emily’s office, through an open door that was there to let any observant person in the office spot that bed.

Lila was no dummy. She was sharp as a tack. She now understood exactly why students came back to campus grinning about their counseling sessions with Emily Plimsoll and the unorthodox methods she used, and why they didn’t talk about those methods. And she was fully on board.

Zach was still befuddled. Though he was as smart as he could be in some ways, in other ways he could be like a babe in the woods. He hadn’t noticed the bed that Lila saw right away. He hadn’t fully caught on to what was going on with Emily Plimsoll and her sex therapy sessions. His cock had caught on immediately, we know, but let’s face it, cocks aren’t always the smartest creatures in the world. What their little heads see and think doesn’t always make its way to the big head above a guy’s shoulders.

Confusion and mistakes can then ensue. And not only can, but often do ensue.

Zach would go into that first one-on-one session with Emily a deer in headlights. Lila and Emily both knew that, and were both chuckling to themselves at what they could see was coming. Chuckling at the “counseling” experience Zach was going to have with Emily when they had that first one-on-one time together.

To repeat one more time: This was going to get interesting.