Sex Show Stories

We’d been living together in my little flat for a little while. It was where we’d first made love, on a blanket spread out on the living room floor on a sunny afternoon, a wonderful experience. But this story is about our first ‘kinky’ experience. It was down to me of course, it took a while for me to get up the nerve to make what has come to be known as one of my ‘Rude Requests’. Whenever I say these words, Jane looks at me and wonders what weird perversion I’m going to try and coerce her into this time, the poor girl!

I can’t remember exactly how I came to slot my idea into the conversation, perhaps it was during one of the baths that we took together, but anyhow it probably went something like this:

‘Erm! I’ve got a bit of rude request to make.’ I ask nervously.

‘Oh, yes, and what’s that then?’ Jane replies, wondering what I’m going to say.

‘I’d like to shave your pussy, if you’ll let me that is?’ I ask, taking the plunge and awaiting the answer, or perhaps the slapped face with some trepidation.

‘Okay, if you want to. But you’ve got to be careful down there.’ Comes the reply with a laugh and a smile.

‘Great, I’ll get the stuff.’ Relief on my part.

So, we are in the little bathroom and I spread out a towel on the put down toilet lid, and Jane sits back naked on the towel. It’s a little awkward at first as we figure out how to go about this, but that kind of adds to the fun. Jane rather bashfully spreads her thighs and using a pair of hair cutting scissors I edge closer and then I take hold of little tufts of her fine brown pubic hair and cut them off as close as I can to her pubic mound.

Now the reason for my request wasn’t that Jane has got one of those hairy pussies, she hasn’t, she keeps it trimmed neatly anyway. It was just that I really like the way that a shaved bare pussy looks and having seen so many pictures of girls looking like that in porno magazines etc., I wanted to see Jane’s just like that as I knew it would be just such a beautiful sight. Plus I suspected that it would be a real turn on for me to do it to her and I hoped that Jane would enjoy the attention too.

Having cut back as much of her pubic hair as I could with the scissors I now smeared white shaving foam all over it.

‘Careful.’ Jane told me, ‘Don’t get that soapy stuff inside me, it will sting.’

I fill the basin next to the toilet with warm water and wet a disposable blade razor. My hands are shaking with excitement as I pass the razor across her mound. I’m expecting to see a clean area of skin revealed by its path, but the blade quickly clogs with a mixture of foam and shorn hair.

‘This isn’t going to be as easy as I thought.’ I tell her as I swish it around rinsing it in the sink.

Still its fun to keep persevering! I carefully shave her outer lips, then around the hood of her little clitoris and then on to the rise of her mound above her pussy. Of course the best bit about doing this for me is that I get a good long close-up look at her lovely cunt.

Jane has a really beautiful pussy, it isn’t all poking out fleshy lips, it’s a neat little slit, like an exclamation mark, especially when she is standing with her legs pressed together. Her inner lips are slim and soft and her clit is small and hidden at the top, looking like a little pink flower bud when I spread those lips to gaze inside. Her vaginal entrance is a closed puckered ring, I love it all and it’s great to be this close having a good long look.

I rinse her off using water and Jane is rather surprised to find that I have in fact gone and completely shaved her pubic area leaving her as naked as a little girl.

‘Well, I’m going to have to hide that in the changing rooms!’ she tells me.

I myself am totally happy with the job, I really like the way it looks. Jane stands and looks at herself in the mirror and rubs her hand over my work.

‘It still feels a bit hairy, I’ll get my electric razor and tidy it up.’

We go into the bedroom and spread a towel out on the bed. Jane finds her razor, plugs it in and switches it on. She reclines back and spreads her thighs wide using one hand to stretch the skin around her pussy as she runs the buzzing shaver over it catching the bits that I have missed. I enjoy watching her.

When she has finished it is time for me to check out my work. I kneel on the floor while she sits on the bed and I move up in-between her thighs. Her bare pussy looks very beautiful. I run my tongue over the smooth skin of her outer lips, her inner lips have swelled with her excitement tempting me to run my tongue up and down the inviting pout. I do this for a while, every time enjoying the view before I trace the line again, I really like doing this.

I part her inner lips, gently spreading her open to gaze inside. Her clit is revealed in the taunt triangle at the top her pussy, I lick at it in little circles, around it, flickering over it. Jane is now having her share of fun from my idea and sighs and moans softly with pleasure. I enclose her clit in my lips and slowly suck it into my mouth, I know that she likes that. Then I plunge my tongue deep into the spread open entrance of her cunt hole, fucking her hole like it is a mini cock, lapping at the inner walls and tasting her juices and then I pull back out to run my tongue over the smooth area I have just created surrounding it.

I lick her out for long while, taking my time pleasuring her, building her pleasure and paying her back for allowing me my little pleasure that lead to this. Jane has a nice strong orgasm and then she happily attends to my needs for me.

Stephanie grasped the handle of the seat as the plane started to descend. She was tired. It had just been one screw-up after another. First, her seminar had dragged on and on so she didn’t have time to go back to the room to freshen up. It was a good thing she had packed all of her things that morning. Next, the taxi had arrived late and she had missed her flight. She had practically run to the check-in counter but had been told she was twenty minutes too late. The next available flight was three hours later. Sighing, she collected her boarding pass and watched as her bag travelled along the conveyor belt and disappeared into the depths of the luggage handling system.

She had bummed around the airport for two hours and had some dinner. Then she walked into the Departure area. Just as she prepared herself to board the plane, the announcement came on. “Ladies and Gentlemen. We regret to inform you that due to some technical problems flight .”

Steph cursed under her breath. Not another delay! She angrily folded her arms over her breasts and sank down into the chair. Steph looked at her watch. It was already 9 at night and she had another 3 hours to wait. After that was a 5-hour flight before she reached home. “Damn!” She exclaimed a little too loudly. A number of passengers smiled weakly at her, understanding her frustration.

She had better send a message to Dave and let him know.

Steph smiled wryly as she type the message on her cell phone. It was ironic that Dave was picking her up from the airport instead of her husband Tony. She had told Tony that she was only arriving the next day.

“Sorry I can’t get off work to pick you up from the airport.” Tony had said to Steph. “Oh, it’s okay love. Its not a big deal, I’ll just take a taxi home.” She had replied.

It was even more ironic that this delay meant she would only be arriving a day later after all. She hoped Dave could still come and get her from the airport. Her flight would probably arrive around 6 in the morning. Not a great time to be awake. The beep of her phone stirred Stephanie from her thoughts “Will pick you. No prob.” Said the SMS message on her cell phone. “Good old Dave. Always reliable.” Steph smiled to herself as she closed her eyes and napped.

The plane touched down a little after 6.30 in the morning. Steph regretted having put her bag as luggage instead of carry-on. She had no change of clothes ready and she felt dirty. Tired and dirty, a bad combination. She thought back on the events of yesterday. She had dressed at 6am and gone for the seminar. She did some mental calculations and realised she had been in the same clothes for slightly more than 24 hours. She wrinkled her nose as she did a quick sniff under her armpits. She could smell the accumulated sweat mixed with her underarm deodorant. She regretted not taking of her panty hose earlier, as her crotch area was all hot and sweaty. She always wore her hose over panties although she had never figured out if that was the way to wear them or if you were supposed to wear them without panties.

“Thank you for flying with us Maam.” The stewardess greeted Steph as she stepped out of the plane. The cool fresh air from the air-conditioned terminal was a welcome change from the stale aircraft interior. Steph slipped on her jacket and made her way to the arrival hall. Fortunately her bag was already on the carousel and she quickly grabbed it and made her way out of the airport.

Dave stood waiting outside. It was reaching 7am when he saw Stephanie step out of the arrival hall. She looked tired and flustered but she still looked good. He watched as her hips sashayed in a tight grey skirt. Her long legs tapered down, covered in smoky black stockings. She was wearing a tight blue knitted blouse with a black jacket over it. Dave felt a slight stirring in his groin as he watched his Sister-In-Law walking out to him.

Steph gave him a wave when she saw him and Dave walked around the barricade to greet her. “Let me get your bag for you.” He said, taking her bag and gently placing his hand on the small of her back “Thanks.” Said Steph and followed a few paces behind Dave. It always paid to be careful; you never knew who was watching you. Dave led her to the car and threw her bag into the back seat. He watched Steph as she climbed into her seat and he thought he caught a glimpse of white panties.

“Umm, you need to go straight home or…?” Dave asked quietly.

“Or what?” Steph snapped back, still tired and fed up from her long flight. “I’m sorry Dave. She said, softening a bit. I’m not expected home till late this afternoon.”

“You wanna go somewhere?” Dave asked, as he placed his hand on her stockinged knee. “I’ve got the whole day free.”

“What do you have in mind?” She asked, warming up to the attention she was getting. It never mattered how tired she was, Stephanie was always game for a good fucking. Dave pulled his car into the nearby airport motel.

“I already pre-booked a room.” He said. “I was hoping you’d say yes!” “Presumptuous bastard!” Steph kidded. “What room are you in? I don’t really want to walk in with you.”

Dave appreciated her discretion. His cock was already hard as he pulled out her bag from the car. “Room 1615.” He said as he wheeled her bag into the hotel. Stephanie watched him walk in, her pussy already starting to leak at the thought of another good fucking. She decided to wait for 5 minutes before going in.

Dave walked into room 1615 and placed Steph’s bag on the counter. He unzipped it and looked inside, wondering what panties she had taken with her. He found a bunched up plastic laundry bag and figured her dirty clothes must be in there. He looked in and rummaged about till he found a black lace pair and another blue hicut. He pulled them out and sniffed at them. They smelt of perfume but he could also detect the odour of pussy on them. He realised that her office clothes in the laundry bag all smelt strongly of perfume and the smell must have got on to her panties. The smell of pussy mixed with perfume was nice but not as dirty as he wanted. A little disappointed, he packed the panties back into her bag and zipped it up just as he heard a knock on the door. He opened the door and Stephanie walked in. She pulled her jacket off and hung it on the door.

“I think I need a shower.” She said as she ran her fingers through her hair. “No!” Dave called out loudly as he circled her waste from behind. “I’m so dirty!” Giggled Steph as she ground her arse backwards onto his growing shaft. “I haven’t showered for more than a day!” “God, don’t tease me like that.” Replied Dave.

Steph laughed and fell backwards on the bed. She raised her arse and unzipped her skirt, making a show of pulling it off. She raised her legs high in the air and pulled her pantyhose slowly off her hips before lowering her legs. She rolled the pantyhose sensually down her thighs and down one leg to her foot before repeating the action on the other leg. With her hose just balancing on the toes of her feet, she pulled her knees in and then extended them out quickly, kicking the hose toward Dave.

Dave grabbed at the hose flying toward him. His cock was already poking hard at the zip of his pants. He caught the hose and brought it to his nose. He could smell sweat on it and there were wisps of dampness near the crotch. He sniffed the crotch deeply and could get the faint smell of cuntal juice mixed with sweat and urine on it. There was more the musky odour of sweat and the somewhat metallic smell of nylon mixed in there as well. He looked at Stephanie who was grinning at him, lying on the bed with one leg raised and her arms splayed above her head. Dave noticed light stubble under her arms at her armpit area and his cock lurched again. He was realising that he liked every smell a woman had to offer.

“You smell anything on my hose?” Steph asked lewdly. “Take your clothes off.”

Dave undressed and walked over to Steph, still lying seductively on the bed. “Close enough!” Steph commanded, slowly beginning to understand that she had a power over Dave. A power that stemmed from her panties. Especially dirty, filthy panties like the ones she now wore!

She pulled her knitted blouse off, exposing her white bra. She threw the blouse at Dave who caught it and sniffed it too. It smelt of perfume mixed with sweat. Next, she undid her bra and threw them at Dave as well. There wasn’t much smell other than perfume and a little body odour. Dave threw the bra and blouse down and looked at Stephanie’s bare breasts. As always, he wished they were bigger, but her breasts really didn’t interest him. He looked hungrily down at her panties and what was inside.

Steph hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her beige panties. The waistband and sides were covered in lace, giving them a very sexy look. She pulled her thumbs downward, pulling the sides of her panties down. She watched Dave’s eyes following her every movement.

“You want these?” She asked softly. “You want to smell these?”

Dave nodded, his mouth open with anticipation. She could see his cock throbbing as he watched her put on this show.

“You know how filthy these are?” She taunted him, placing extra emphasis on the word ‘Filthy’.

“They’ve been on me for more than a day.” She went on. “Collecting all my pussy juices, all my gunk, all my drippings”

She had pulled them halfway off her now; her heart was beating at her lascivious behaviour.

“Gruugh,” and odd guttural groan escaped from Dave’s throat as he listened to Steph describing her filthy panties. He wanted it, he wanted to hold it, to sniff it, to bury his face in it. He didn’t have to wait long as Steph pulled it off her and threw it to him.

“Take it lover, Sniff it! Smell it!” Steph cried, her pussy juicing at this kinky and lewd act.

Dave grabbed it and immediately could feel how wet they were. He took his time, spreading them open to look at the crotch. There was a thin dark wet streak running the length of the crotch. Under that streak was a wider white streak, a little crusty and with tiny clumps of a darker white on it. His breath was short and deep now. He brought the panties to his nose and inhaled. His head went light as the smell shot up his nostril passage and cleared his sinuses. It smelt almost like ammonia, very acidic. It was the smell of stale piss. 24 hours of fermented piss. His cock heaved as he inhaled of her panties.

Dave shifted the panties slightly and sniffed again. This time the odour was less acidic but more fruity. But it was like stale fruit. He pressed the panties harder into his face and he sniffed at the wet streak. That was fresh pussy juice! The panties were damp and fresh at that exact spot! He felt butterflies in his tummy and his cock was lurching furiously. He pulled the panties away from his face and stared at them. He could see that the lacy sides of the panties had light brown stains on them, and it smelled sour. Stale sweat. He turned the panties and sniffed at the buttocks. He thought he sniffed a real dirty smell at the buttocks of her panties, but he couldn’t be sure.

Dave turned the panties back to the crotch and inhaled deeply at the crusty white streak. It was really musky and lightly fruity. He stuck his tongue out and licked tentatively at the tiny clumps. They tasted just like Steph’s pussy, except it was a dirty taste. Not at all fresh. He licked harder at the clumps as his cock was now throbbing and dancing, almost of its own accord. As he licked the clumps, he felt the panties getting wet with his saliva and the clumps seemed to dissolve. It was just like licking a pussy; only it was cloth that he was licking. He pressed the panties on his face and licked and sniffed at the same time.

What Dave couldn’t see was that Stephanie was getting so turned on by Dave’s antics. His cock was bigger and harder than she had ever seen it. The fact that her panties were giving him so much pleasure amazed her. Her fingers were sliding up and down her slit, making her already wet pussy almost sloppy with desire.

“Give me that Cock!” She called out. “Fuck me, Fuck me now!”

Dave groaned as he continued sniffing on her panties. He realised he was more turned on that he had ever been. He placed the panties over his head and positioned them so that his eyes were at the leg holes. The crotch was firmly against his mouth and nose. Steph watched him and she was filled with lust. He looked like a robber wearing a balaclava. Instead he was her lover wearing her filthy panties on his head.

Dave advanced toward Steph, inhaling on her panties and getting harder and hornier by the minute. He grabbed her legs and pulled her toward him. She hissed as she felt him being rough with her. “Fuck me as you smell my filth you bastard!” She taunted him. She felt his cock brush against her buttocks and then lodge at the entrance to her pussy. “Gonna fuck you baby.” Dave said, his words muffled by her panties. He thrust forward and his engorged prick sliced into her well-lubricated hole. Steph gasped as her insides were stretched. His cock was bigger than she had ever felt it and it filled her completely. He began to pump in and out of her.

“Oh yes, oh yes!” She chanted. “I need it. Fuck me, fuck me, harder”

Dave could smell and taste her filthy pussy on the panties. He could smell the stale, fermented urine and sweat. He felt so kinky with her panties on his face and her wet pussy on his cock. He plunged harder and deeper into her.

“Unnhh….Unnnhh…yeah….yes….Unnhhh.” Steph moaned, her head rolling from side to side as her hands dug into the sheets. His cock was ramming so hard into her, filling her completely. She could feel his cock head knocking at her cervix. “More, more!” She cried. “Do it, harder, harder.”

“Yes, yesss, Oh shit….yessss. Uuuunnnhhhhhh.” Steph cried as her body shook in a wild orgasm. Her thighs quivered and she felt Dave’s cock even harder in her as her pussy clasped and spasmed on his turgid flesh. She was sweating and she could smell her own body odour from not washing in more than a day. The smell of sex hung heavily in the air as she came down from her hard orgasm.

As usual, Dave hadn’t come yet. It was times like this that Stephanie wished that Dave shot his load quickly. She liked him fucking her to two or three orgasms but sometimes she just wanted one hard cum and that was fine. She felt his cock still pummelling inside of her and she relaxed, trying to build herself up to another orgasm.

Dave was in ecstasy. He loved how filthy Steph’s panties were. He loved how wet and hot she was and he loved the fact that he was harder and bigger than ever. He smiled to himself as he worked his cock harder and faster in Steph’s gaping hole. Her grunts and groans excited him and spurred him on. On a normal day, he would have shot his hot juices into her with the double stimulus of her moaning and her panties on his face. Not today. He had jerked himself off in the morning before coming to meet her. He still had a long way to go before he shot his load.

Steph was building up to another orgasm. She tightened her pussy muscles around his cock, trying to milk him and urge him to cum. “Cum on, cum you bastard. I’m gonna cum again. Cum with me, cum on!”

Dave sniffed harder at her panties and plunged deeper and harder into her. He could feel her pussy clamping on his cock but he was still someway off from coming. He felt her body tense and he shafted her with two more hard strokes before he stopped.

“Aiiyeeee!” Steph screamed as her body convulsed in passion again. Her pussy tightened and milked his cock, spasming and jerking all around it. She lay back limply, noticing that he wasn’t pumping into her, grateful that he had cum too. Then she felt his hardness still inside her. She felt her pussy pulse again as he slowly worked his rod in her.

“You haven’t cum!” She moaned. “No baby.” He said. “There’s still more!” “Ohhhhh!” She moaned both in despair and need.

He pumped her again with a few short strokes before he pulled out of her. She felt her walls collapsing together as his huge thickness withdrew from the depths of her steamy pussy. Steph collapsed on the bed, eyes shut tight, her breath short and quick. She heard a zipping sound and wondered what he was up to.

Dave opened her bag and picked out the black lace panties. Then he picked up her bra and walked back to the bed. He still had her filthy panties round his head and he was still enjoying the aromas and taste of it. Dave patted Steph’s thigh, a little roughly.

“Turn over.” He said, again with his voice muffled. “Nooo…I don’t think I can take more.” Steph said. “Turn Over!” He commanded. “On your fours. I’m gonna spill my seed in you and you’re gonna like it!” His voice had taken on an edge.

Steph turned over and knelt on her fours. Dave pulled her by the hips so her knees were at the edge of the bed. He reached under her and tweaked her nipples. “Aaahh.” Steph moaned involuntarily as the stimulus of her nipples sent a jolt through her. Dave took hold of the black panties in one hand and the bra in the other. Holding the panties with two fingers, he tweaked her breasts again, this time harder.

“Unnh! That hurts!” Steph cried. “Be gentle with my ti…” she didn’t finish her sentence. Dave stuffed her panties into her complaining mouth and before she could do anything, his other hand wrapped her bra around the panties, like a bridle. Her mouth was stuffed with her panties and held together with her bra!

Steph went weak at this assault. She could taste herself on the panties. She had never, ever tasted herself and now the stale juices on her panties were in her mouth. In a kinky kind of way, she found it a turn on! Dave tightened the bra on her mouth and then fastened the clasps together. He pulled on the fastened bra, working more of her panties into her mouth. Her head snapped back with the force of his pull.

She felt him at her back again. One hand was working the bra and the other hand was on her nipples now. Tweaking them and massaging them, she felt the fluttering start in her stomach again. Dave positioned himself on the mouth of her pussy again and rubbed his head up and down the slit, hitting her bulging clitoris every now and then. Steph lowered her elbows and her head rested on the bed.

Dave thrust hard into her and Stephanie gasped into the panties. He worked his prick harder into her and then placed one hand on her hip. He stood firm and used her hips to move her back and forth on to his prick. This way, he didn’t have to expand too much energy. Steph’s juicy pussy floated easily on his hard cock and he moved her faster, fucking her easily.

“Unh, unh, unh!” She moaned. Even with her mouth crammed with panties, her groans were loud. Dave released her hips and watched as she worked them back and forth on her own. He grabbed the bra and used that to pull her back and forth on his cock. Steph felt another great orgasm approaching and she fucked him back hard with each pull of the bra. Her neck hurt a little but the feeling in her pussy far outweighed any discomfort she felt. Dave pulled her harder and faster, impaling her with his cock. He felt her pussy clamping hard on his cock as her body shook again.

“Mmppphh uuhhggr aahhhh!” She moaned. Her body felt awash with passion and she couldn’t seem to come down from this mind-blowing orgasm. Her head went blank and she felt like a giant pussy erupting. Suddenly her pussy was empty. Dave had pulled out. She felt her head being yanked back again.

“Eeuunnnhh!” She protested.

Steph felt his had spear press against her buttocks and then slip into her pussy again. Then it was out again and pressing against her shit hole. “NO!” she cried. “Not in my ass!” But it came out sounding like “Whoa! Wot em ai ass!”

“Yeah! You want it in you’re ass baby!” She heard Dave say as she felt his cock press harder against her virgin arse hole.

“Nooo.Nooo!” She cried, shaking her head from side to side. Dave pulled harder on her bra bridle and she felt her body pushing back against his cock. With one hard thrust, Dave fucked into her shitter!

“Muuummppphhhhhh!” Steph screamed into her panties. It felt like a hot thick poker had just been rammed into her ass. Tears sprung to her eyes as her violated asshole spread to accommodate Dave’s thick cock.

“Uhhhhhnnnhhhhhhh!” She cried again as his complete length filled her. She felt him flex his cock deep within her bowels as the searing pain continued. Dave reached one hand under her again and teased a nipple. Then he moved his hand down and rubbed softly against her clit. Her body responded to this stimulus and her stomach fluttered again. For the umpteenth time.

The intrusion in her ass didn’t feel so bad now as Dave’s fingers continued to tease her clit. She felt him move inside her ass now and she tried to relax her ass muscles. Her body was working back and forth on his cock now and she was amazed at the feeling of the cock in her ass. It hurt but it didn’t. It felt awful but it didn’t. Her clit was buzzing and the fullness of her ass just seemed to excite her pussy even more.

Dave started hammering into her ass now. He used the bra to pull her on to his cock in much the same way he did earlier. His fingers were still busy on her clit but now he had two fingers drilling in her pussy as the others fluttered around her clit. Her whole body was aflame. She could feel his fingers pressing against the thin membrane separating her ass from her pussy. She could feel his hard cock sliding in her and the pressure of the fingers on his cock!

She didn’t need Dave to force her on his cock anymore, her body was fucking back at him of its own accord. “Oh God!” she though to herself, “I’m going to cum again. Oh God!”

Dave continued plowing into her. The hot dry depths of her ass were so tight around his cock and he was going to cum hard too. He worked his fingers faster inside her as he rammed his cock hard into her ass. Slap. Slap. Slap. His groin made hard contact with her ass. He could feel her wetness leaking around his fingers and he could smell her pussy juices saturating the room.

Steph felt her pussy spasm suddenly and then her whole body tighten. She felt his cock swell in her rectum and then hot spurts of liquid lava hit her deep in her bowels! She screamed into her panties and sucked on the material. She could taste her own juices as she sucked hard and bit on the panties. Her body shuddered hard and every muscle tensed and then relaxed. She felt a hot explosion in her ears as her body was overcome by the most violent orgasm she had ever had. She could still feel his cock throbbing and spurting deep in her.

The bra around her mouth relaxed and she collapsed head down onto the bed. She was still sucking hard on her panties, trying to milk every last drop of dried pussy juice from them. She felt Dave’s cock shrinking in her ass and then slowly pop out. Her ass was still high in the air and her thighs were still spasming. Dave smacked her lightly on the bum.

“Now that’s what I call a good fuck!” He said. Steph let her knees buckle and her legs slipped to the bed. She could feel his cum slowly oozing out of her ass as she removed the panties and bra from her mouth. Dave removed her panties from his head and gently mopped up her ass. She felt Dave cleaning her up with what she knew were her filthy panties.

She had been well and truly fucked and she was completely satiated. Dave slipped on to the bed beside her and gave her a cuddle. She could feel her panties still under her ass, soaking up all the drippings.

“At this rate, you’re gonna ruin all my panties!” She laughed as she gave Dave a kiss.

I designed a piece of jewelry today. It wasn’t for any special occasion. However, the project proved to be very significant in terms of introspection. The piece was a simple anklet. Finely polished glass beads strung on a sturdy silver wire, with three specially placed miniature bells. The anklet was pleasing to the eye, and created a slight jingle sound as I pranced around doing my chores. The bell’s sound soft enough to please the ear, but not enough to annoy the soul.

Suddenly a memory came flooding back to me, one I had not thought of in years. It was the gentle ringing of the anklet that brought it back to me. I remembered a very similar anklet that served a very important purpose. The anklet belonged to a slave girl named Heather.

I met Heather at a banquet given by her Master. It was only by a twist of fate that I found myself sitting, on a soft down pillow, beneath their dining room table just to the left of my Master.

I had been told to dress quickly, but to leave not one little detail unattended. The dress I found laying across my bed was a soft black silk that hung tea length at the ankles. The shoes he had chosen were not shoes at all, but small black ballet slippers. Although a question formed in my mind, I suppressed it. I had long ago learned that misplaced questions were not eagerly rewarded. However, I couldn’t help but wonder to where this would lead.

Sitting beneath that dining room table the soft black silk clinging to my naked body, I no longer needed to know, but I did fully understand. This was a formal lifestyle banquet. I watched quietly as Heather stepped around the table delivering food to every Master’s plate and filling every glass. The aromas that spilled forth were a delight in themselves. An occasional smile was passed between the four of us seated beneath the table. Occasionally our Masters would refer to us, the comments being greeted with the knowing glance or a sly caress of our flesh. The one thing that caught all of our attention was the beautiful wind chime affect flowing from the ornament around Heather’s ankle.

As the gentleman adjourned to the den, the girls began to rise from our pillows. You couldn’t have heard a rooster crow over the immediate questions and greetings that ensued, while we ate our fill of the tempting treats before us. Everyone quickly exchanged names, numbers and information. Then we cleared and cleaned the entire dinning room and kitchen. While we were all in the kitchen one of the girls asked Heather about her anklet and if it represented something special, and all of us paused to hear her answer.

Heather gave us all a knowing look, as she began to explain.

Once a few years back, when her Master felt she was not yet properly trained he had ventured to a lifestyle conference with her. She carried only a small handbag with a room key, ID, hanging from the handbag were some glass beads and a sprinkling of tiny bells that rang slightly as she walked. Although she had tried to follow his steps through the crowded pavilion floor, she had lost track of him in the crowd. She began to panic, and the next thing she knew there were two men clutching her arms and quietly ushering her out of the pavilion. She attempted to scream but a hand was quickly placed over her mouth. The next thing she knew one of the men hit the ground with a thud and the other man soon followed. There she stood starring at her Master. She dropped to her knees fearful of the punishment she felt sure she would receive for losing him in the crowd, but his cool palm against her face told her that admonishment she would not find. He pulled her up, linking his arm in hers and he continued to his seat near the front. Later that same day when they were back in their room he asked Heather to come and kneel before him. Trembling with nervousness she did as she was bid.

“You were in a very perilous situation earlier today, were you not?”

A small shallow voice answered, “Yes, Master”

“What lesson have you learned from it girl?”

Heather hesitated, “To make my steps quicker and to never loose sight of you Master.”

The firm voice of her Master rang out, “There is more, but perhaps you do not see it yet.” Heather said you could have cut the silence with a knife as she waited for him to continue.

Finally with softness in his voice her Master asked, “Did you not feel fear? Did you not panic at the moment you first realized I was not there?”

“Yes, of course I did Master.” Heather was beginning to see the point.

Her Master’s voice rang out again, “You are my responsibility, one I do not take lightly. Do you not trust that I am always seeing, always listening always aware of you my dear? Do you not trust that I will always find you? Do you have a fear of so quickly being lost?”

Heather’s eyes filled with silent tears as she responded to his question. “I am not afraid of being lost Master, only of not being found, Master.”

Her Master’s hand caressed her face, bidding her to rise and stand before him. “It was the bells on your bag that led me to find you. It wasn’t until I didn’t hear them that I realized I had lost you. It was those same bells that led me to find you so quickly.” Her Master grabbed the handbag from the table, thrusting it at Heather, “You will fashion yourself an anklet with these beads and bells and you will wear it always while in my service.” His voice was firm, but the caring showed in his eyes. “It will serve to remind you that I always know of your presence or lack of and will help to reassure you that I will always find you.”

Heather did as she was told and that anklet was the very one that she had worn ever since. The same anklet that we all were now so curious about. You could see the tears in all the girls eyes. Every single one of them had experienced the firm caring hand of their own Masters, and understood the wisdom of properly placed words. A loud clap was heard that drew our togetherness to a close. We gathered the dessert items and followed Heathers dangling music back out into the dinning room, where we each served our Masters and then took our place by their sides. The evening continued to its normal conclusion, but the one thing I can say that none of us will ever truly forget is the value that was worn around Heather’s ankle.

It is funny how I never really took time to think about that situation for years, and I never honestly considered writing it down. However, now at this time in my life when I find my cravings for that lifestyle again, I find that every lesson that I learned either through my experience or through someone else suddenly has more value to me than it did before. I have now removed the anklet and placed it safely in my jewelry box, where its hidden meaning will stay safe. I have written the memory down so its lessons can be remembered. I find myself hoping that perhaps one day there will be a Master out there that will always be aware of my music in their life.

Cory meet his man yesterday in a club next her house. She invited him tonigh to pass the night but in fact, Cory have a secret plan. She wants to taste a new injection she have just invented. According to what she have already tested, the serum produces, first of all, a somnolence paralyzing the host while all vital energy get concentrated in man’s nuts. In ten minutes, he’s unable to make any movement. She just needs to erect his boy’s dick to make all his energy pass from nuts to sperm so he get ready to have his ultimate pleasure. Cory can do what she prefers to make him cum and die but experiencing an incredible pleasure, a enormous orgasm that last until the last shoot.

So this is Cory’s secret tonight. She was thinking in that when the bell rang. Cory openend the door. The man was very well dressed, she got excited. Both talked and laugh a few hours, they took many cups, talked and talked. Cory was expecting the right moment to go to take the injection. When converstation started to decrease, she begun to tease him: she wear a black shinny night outfit with a sexy necklace. Her big tits were very well highlighted and her beautiful profile described by the outfit. Her fleshy red lips combined with her black hair and her dark deep eyes don’t took a long time to get the man so hard that she noticed it even with his pants on. She kissed him with bitch tongue movements and she rubbed his cock with her fine hands.

“Do you want fuck me? do you want to make me shout?” She asked near his ear
“Yes Cory, let me cum on you”

She take his hand and brought him to her bed. During the short walk, Cory took subtly the injection from her garter belt. The syringe point was extremely fine and the man felt anything while Cory injected the serum insede him. She dropped the syringe under the bed and she make him strecht on the bed. He was really excited. Cory wanted to dominate him on those silk sheets. He thought in rigt. In a few seconds, Cory took hidden belts and attached him to the bed. She knew the serum was slowly making his effect. Once she had attached him very hard, she started to strip on the bed. Making slow movements and throwing her shoes far, she got on his male and started to zip her outfit. In two minutes, the man saw an incredible woman. Her black and red bra combined with a black pair of stockings got him even more excited. She easely dropped her panties on his face so he could smell them. Then she got dawn and make him sniff and suck her clit. A few later, se had her first orgasm and jizzed a few liquid on her panties and his man face. Her nipples were erected and her bra taut.

When she considered the time, she streched on his man and put her tits on his face. She explained everything, every part of his plan: the injection, paralysis, erection, cum and finally death. The man didn’t gave any credit but some minutes after he started to feel tired. His energy was going to his nuts. He felt them harder and he got panic. Cory was still on him but now expecting.

“I’m gonna leave a few minutes, I’ll return when you’ll be ready to me” Said with a sexy voice.

“Please, leave me out” suplied him
“No, I want you to cum and enjoy”.

Cory leaved the bedroom while he was trying to get up. The man felt slowly how he was awake but he couldn’t move. He decided to try to avoid his erection. If he could resist thirty minutes, the effects would disappear and his energy will return to all his body.

Ten minutes later, Cory returned to bedroom. She looked at him and smiled him. She was really beautiful. She was wearing the same black bra and so exciting stockings with this fluffy gartner-belt. She bring a little box, like a king of enveloppe. He couldn’t see more. Cory got near him and touched his pants: he was floppy. She smiled again then she leaned on him and kissed him.

“Don’t resist to me, you’re gonna cum”

After that, she released him from the belts. He couldn’t move. Cory started to undress him very slowly. His pants, his socks, jacket, shirt. The she started a devil’s dance. Cory begun to move her hips, to smile to her man, she removed her gartner-beld and her stockings

“C’mon, get hard, let me get the orgasm” surrounded to him.

Cory took off her stockings and lend one of them on the bed. She finally removed her bra and the man saw her spectacular tits: big, firm and round with beautiful erected nipples. Cory was looking to her man’s slip. He was resisting nice the erection. But when she took the content of the mysterious box she felt a little growing inside the slip. She took her pantyhose.

“You like them?, I’m gonna footjob you till you cum” said Cory, smiling.

All her man’s energy was inside his nuts, and little by little, his cock was getting hard. Cory finished growing it by putting on her pantyhose: a red pantyhose that transparented her sexy toes. Cory got on the bed and put her nude tits on his man slip. She shake off them until she felt his cock got completely hard. He could avoid anything. Now all his energy was in his sperm, he was ready to cum. So Cory retired his slip and continued her titjob. Her tits were shaking and shaking all over his big dick. A few seconds later, Cory started a blowjob: her incredible lips and her tongue’s movements make him get ever harder than before. Cory smiled him and continued blowjobing him.

He was enjoying so much that he finally accepted what was unavoidable. Cory knew his man was going to enjoy a lot.

“Please Cory, make me enjoy as much as you can” Asked him.
“Yes” Aswered Cory with her natural sensual voice.

Now Cory was on him making her pantyhose-covered cunt slide on his cock. Cory was near the orgasm again and continued sliding until she had it again. She got her cunt wet and jizzed threw her pantyhose on her man’s dick. Then she took one stocking she left on bed and put in over his cock. The man was carring on as much as he was able because Cory was making a handjob with her stocking on his cock. She was using both hands to make a strong pressure: up and down, up and down very slow but very pressured. She extend her handjob a few minutes. Her man was close to the orgasm: the stocking was stick to the cock by the sperm he erupted.

Cory decided to finish him and got up on the bed. She removed the stocking of cock and put on his face. Then she sat down near his man’s feet and started to massage his nuts with her feet. She begun to jerk the cock using feet grabbing it harder with her toes. The man was seeing how Cory was jerking his cock up and down with her feet. The pantyhose touch was very exciting and when it was touching his cockhead he shived.

“C’mon boy, get my pantyhose wet!

Cory made a dirty talk to his man that made him get closer while she accelerate the footjob. Now she changed the position: his cock was leaned on one foot ankle, the other foot was rubbing the cock. The man felt his cock catched between pantyhose. He felt the orgasm arriving.

“Cory, I’m getting ready to cum”
“Ok! C’mon.” said “C’mon don’t be afraid, enojoy it, release your dirty load on my pantyhose”

The man was close, he felt the starting but tried to contain but Cory’s footjob avoid it when she slowed down and used her toes to finsh massage. He started to cum, and cum.

“Oh! very good, very nice. C’mon release it completely, shoot all your sperm out.”

The sperm was erupting from his cock and Cory’s support foot get totally wet, full of cum and still trickling sperm.

“Look at it, enjoy it, look your sperm on my red pantyhose. Feel my feet finishing you” Told Cory to his man while he was shooting much more cum.

The mas was ejaculating a lot of cum but big shoots. All the sperm was on pantayhose and Cory felt the hot stuff on her feet.

“That’s right, very good. That’s all. Now just die quietly”. Said Cory to his man when he finished cuming.

The man was sawing his cock between pantyhose full of cum when he died full of pleasure. Cory removed her pantyhose and put it on her male’s face then she sucked the sperm and left.

Chapter 3

“Jesus H Christ boss, you can’t do that!” it was Stevens, his team sniper. “You need to lie down, before you bleed out. That looks serious Doc!” Chris had caught a piece of shrapnel from the strafing run that had torn a sabre cut down the right side of his back from his clavicle to his hip. The burning hot metal had travelled under his webbing and tunic, exiting below his belt, tearing a hole in his pants. Bleeding profusely, it was otherwise superficial, although now that the adrenalin of combat was wearing off, it was beginning to burn like a son of a bitch!

He was removed from the battlefield in a hurry by an American medivac helicopter. His second in command, Sergeant Mike Hawthorne supervised the passage of lines with the PPCLI company as they moved into the valley to secure the position and deal with the enemy dead. Mike and the rest of the team were flown back to their operational headquarters in Kandahar less than half an hour later. The mood was solemn after their initial jubilation at having conducted a textbook ambush on a much larger enemy force. The boss had been hurt-probably badly enough to be removed from the field long term.

“Max get the gear stowed and everybody showered and fed. Debrief in the team room in two hours. I’m gonna see the colonel and then check on Hamilton and make sure he is behaving himself at the MIR.” Mike slammed his equipment locker, turning to Max, “You remind the boys that what happens in Delta Four stays here. The captain is a crazy son of a bitch but he’s ours and nobody else has the right to say a god damn thing about it”

“Mike, take it easy, nobody has a problem with that operation. It was sweet and off the cuff deadly. The guys won’t see it any other way.”

“Fuck Max I’m not talking about the team I’m talking about some staff weenies sniffing around trying to figure out how they could have done it better.” With that he was gone.

Chris was well behaved albeit sluggish until a nurse attempted to inject him with morphine. He objected profusely claiming it would make him vomit. He insisted the procedure be done with a local anaesthetic only. Sceptical at first about being able to stitch the gaping wound, the doctor sprayed novocaine on it and instructed the nurse to start irrigating and cleaning the exposed fascia. Chris grunted a couple of times but otherwise seemed able to cope, asking another nurse if she had a cell phone. He wanted to check with headquarters on the status of his team.

By the time the wound was partly closed up, he had slipped into unconsciousness. When he awoke several hours later, he was on his back in the hospital ward, on an IV feeling groggy. He felt as if he was made of lead. No pain, just a dull ache through a cloud of euphoria. He gradually focused on the imposing form standing at the foot of the bed. It was Mike in clean fatigues, wearing his tan beret standing at attention in salute.

“At ease sergeant. Now I know I’m not in heaven seeing your festering mug.”

“And it’s a golden pleasure to see you too sir”

Mike informed Chris that he was scheduled to fly to Landstuhl in Germany for some further surgery and then home for a couple weeks to convalesce. “Bullshit I got a job to do”

“You remember when you first took command of the troop what I said to you?”

“As I recall it was something like; I can make all the important decisions I needed to make after consulting with you first because you had forgotten more about being a combat leader than I would learn in the short time I was assigned as commander”

“That’s it exactly and your reply if I remember correctly was; You would agree to do that as long as I had the balls to admit publicly when it no was no longer true. At the time I thought that was the most arrogant reply I had ever heard from a Lieutenant in this man’s army”

“Aw shucks; where is this headed?…”

“Well I guess you need to know the day has come sir. Grasshopper you not only snatched the pebble from my fucking hand but stole my goddamn wedding ring as well. That was some serious instinctive soldiering I saw out there and I am proud to have served with you…”

“What the fuck Mike, where do you think you’re going?”

“Not me boss, you might as well know the colonel has other plans for your injured ass.”

Christopher realized he was saying goodbye. Obviously the CO had already discussed it with Mike and had informed him that there was to be a change of leadership, “Well it sucks to be him. My job is Officer Commanding Delta Four. I’m not going anywhere.”

“My guess is you probably have a good assignment lined up, so stop being all indignant, we were looking for a good team leader when you came along.” Mike laughed, “You know as well as I do that we can survive without you. You also know that the Chief needs good people on the staff in Ottawa. You had a good run…and you’ll be missed about as much as a pail of water from the river.”, he let that sink in for a second, a little disturbed at the pained expression in the young officers face. “Captain, its time to let another officer earn the right to command a troop in this regiment. It’s time to let go. And I lied, you will be missed, you bastard!”

“Well we’ll see about that” They made small talk a while longer, but Mike could see the young officer was exhausted and he was eventually chased out by a gorgeous blond nurse.

“Sergeant before you go come and gimme a big hug” teased Chris. “How bout a kiss goodnight?”

“No way! I have a reputation to think about-you freakin homo!”

“Don’t ask don’t tell…” and with a crisp salute sergeant Hawthorne was gone.
The nurse scolded Chris and reminded him to rest as she checked his drip and made a notation on his chart. Stealing a glance at him she thought to herself, So this is the handsome young officer the other nurses were whispering about. Not bad. She would have to see for herself it what they were saying was true.

“I need you roll over on your side captain, so I can have a look at the dressing.”

“Not sure that I can nurse…”

“. Alice….sure you can. Let me help” Rolling back the covers, she gently pulled him as he rolled onto his left side. She then reached across his broad back, undoing the tie on his hospital gown and pulled it over towards her, exposing his front. He had closed his eyes, wincing in pain and it took some time for him to relax in spite of the drugs he was getting in his IV.

Examining his beautifully muscled torso, her eyes eventually found his penis. It was true. He was wearing a gold ring through his glans, in a classical Prince Albert piercing. She had heard of men doing this but never thought she would ever see one. About two and a half centimetres in diameter, and six or seven millimetres in thickness it was an impressive piece of gold. It rarely excited her when male patients had there sex exposed to her but this was considerably different and somehow, highly erotic.

“Oh my…you have a gold ring through the end of your penis” she found herself more than a little fascinated by the site of it. “Is that pure gold?”

“Twenty-two carat gold with a nickel alloy.” He was looking at her eyes; they never left his member. In spite of the drugs, Chris felt a surge of excitement building as the blond studied his cock.

“May I touch it?” she asked. His penis began to swell at the thought of her handling him.

Looking over her shoulder first, checking for someone watching first, she reached out with a latex gloved hand and took hold of the end of his penis. She then twisted it so that she could see the underside of it. She studied how the ring re-entered his thickening penis just slightly below the fold between the notch of the glans and the shaft. As his cock now reached nearly eight inches in length and a substantial two inches of girth, the ring seemed to disappear inside of it, swallowed by the now huge, engorged glans. A small bead of pre-cum emerged from the tip, glistening as it continued to grow.

She began gently stroking his cock with both hands, spreading the oozing fluid liberally over his cock. Careful, I haven’t been with a woman for over a month now said Chris in a hoarse whisper.

The ring now appeared only as a crescent, covering from the notch of his penis head, where it joined the foreskin, to the slit of the urethra. The rest was hidden inside. This is truly amazing. How did you manage to attach this to the end of your cock? she asked.

“It’s a segmented ring, made in two parts. You open the ring with a special tool and insert the segment before allowing it to spring closed. The seams are virtually invisible. His voice was low, his breathing excited. If you start turning it you will see that smaller segment.”

With the thumb of her gloved left hand she began rolling the shiny ring through the piercing until she was able to see the closure. Wow…That is really a sexy way to dress up a beautiful cock…How is it for sex? she continued pulling and squeezing his erection, examining it in close detail.

“Some like it. Some not, its easily removed, with the right tool.”

“How does it feel for you?”

“It improves a good fuck considerably. I prefer to wear it during penetration, but a lot of women find it intimidating at first”

“I’ll bet.” She started working the length of his cock in rapid regular strokes. “I want a sperm sample captain. Let me see what you’ve got in the bank.”

It didn’t take long before his twitching member to accommodated her curiosity, leaving several table spoons of hot jism on the edge of the bed and her latex covered hands. Once his cock had stopped its orgasmic twitching, she gently laid it down on the bed and went to a nearby cupboard for a towel. She smiled and praised his performance as she wiped the cum from her hands and his slowly softening member. “udging by that performance, you should be back on your feet in no time.”

Tossing the towel in a hamper she walked around the bed and examined the dressing over his wound. It was weeping blood, “This dressing will have to be changed. I’ll be back”

He was still laying on his side, cock exposed for all the world to see, for perhaps a minute waiting for the blond nurses return. When she came back, another nurse accompanied her pushing a cart with medical supplies. Chris lay with his back to the two women, his erection returning and throbbing mercilessly. The new nurse, a tall, beautiful black woman, walked round the bed and first staring into his eyes gazed fixedly at his naked staff. “That is quite a nice PA you have there soldier. Where did you have that done?”

“A studio in Amsterdam” he tried to sound as casual as possible. “Almost three years ago now I guess.”

“I’m sorry there is nothing I can do for that erection except cover it up. Hospital rules. Seems a shame though. That’s a nice, fat white cock!” as she covered his root with the hospital gown she noticed a splotch of white liquid on the floor the size of a silver dollar. “That looks an awful lot like cum to me. Well now we best not leave that for Madame Doctor to slip on, should we?” She went to a nearby sink and retrieved some paper towel as the other nurse changed the dressing, quickly removing the evidence from the floor.

Chris received a shot of some pain killer and a sedative and was efficiently reassembled and left on his stomach to rest. You have a flight booked to Germany this afternoon soldier; get some sleep in the meantime. instructed the blond nurse, as she adjusted the bed clothes.

As the two were headed out the door Chris heard the black nurse, “You care to explain the cum spot on the floor?”

“You mean you want me to explain where cum comes from?”

“You slut!” Laughed the other nurse as they left the room headed for the nurse’s station.
Chris feeling completely relaxed, could feel sleep wash over him as the drug began to take affect. Smiling, he slowly drifted off.

Life is very often unexpected, and it’s up to you whether to think of that as a pleasure or a pain. I have mostly endeavored to try and enjoy the unexpected when I can. That’s not to say I always do, or that things always work out for me. Sometime they do, sometimes they don’t. All in all, though, I find you get more out of life if you call something an unexpected pleasure and leave it at that.

It was raining like hell that night and I wasn’t particularly up for going out, but most of the usual suspects were, and I really didn’t have an excuse not to, so with our mostly inadequate raingear we headed into the chilly city rain to find a warm dry place with a good beer.

There were 7 of us, all lonely pirates out to make a mark on the evening to prove we still cared or mattered or whatever. But when the bars are quiet, it’s hard to muster up the energy for anything too boisterous, at least for me. That didn’t stop me from drinking almost my fill. Finally there came that point in the evening when some want to stay and some want to go.

Monica and Chloe, friends of mine from a few doors down, broke from the pack first. Being a chivalrous guy, I told them I could walk them home. The remainder cajoled us to stay, but we had already decided to go, so we left them at a pool table, sure that they couldn’t do that much damage without us around.

The walk back to campus was everything you could expect from a cold rainy night. We ducked and darted from one awning to another mostly in vain, if keeping dry was our goal. Instead it opened our veins and let the blood flow to previously closed parts of our brains, at least that became my theory later. We laughed and splashed and thought nothing of it.

As we lurched our way past a still open convenience store, Monica came to a sudden stop and ordered us to do the same.

“I’m such a sweet person that I am going to buy Lucy a bottle of cheap wine to share with her boyfriend!” she declared with a flourish.

I looked confused by this and Chloe set me straight.

“Lucy is going to see her boyfriend at Umass tomorrow.” She told me.

“Oh, I see.” I replied in a sedated, slightly drunken tone.

We all went in and selected a suitably cheap vintage for such an occasion and resumed the trip home.

By the time we reached the door to the dorm, we were all thoroughly wet.

“Sometimes Eric, you amaze me with your usefulness” Chloe said as I got out my key.

“How’s that?”

“I didn’t bring my key, and I know that my favorite bimbo Monica here, never does. So if you had not come back with us, we would be bitching in the rain! You are just so damn useful tonight!” Chloe grinned.

“I do try!” I nodded back, holding the door open for them.

“‘Bitchin in the Rain’, isn’t that a song?” Monica asked.

“If it’s not is should be, and you and I will play it in our band and Eric here will be our groupie.”

“Yeah! Cool! I always wanted to be a rock star!” screamed Monica as she played air guitar.

“What’s a job like being a groupie pay?” I asked as we stumbled up the stairs.

“About 2 dollars an hour, plus dental.”, Chloe responded without missing a beat.

“Shit that’s not even minimum wage!” I protested.

“Well you also get to sleep in the back of the truck and eat our leftovers so your overhead is real low.” she shot back.

“Ok, if you put it like that it sounds more reasonable.”

“Damn right it is!” Monica scolded me, “We could give that job to anyone you know! You should be grateful.”

“Oh yes ma’am, yes ma’am, I jus do whatevas you tells me to dew.” I cowed.

“Now all we have to do is learn how to play instruments,” said Chloe.

“Oh that won’t be hard,” chided Monica.

We had stopped at my door and I had my key out.

“This is where I get off, I’d walk you down to your door, but I don’t want to see Lucy’s face when you wake her up to let you in the room.”

“What do you think the bottle of wine is for honey? That should smooth things over with miss Lucy-loo!” said Monica with a grin.

“I thought you were just being sweet?”

“Oh, well, that too!”

I laughed and told then I would see them both at breakfast. As I opened the door I watched them stroll down the hall, Monica taking long exaggerated strides and Chloe looking back at me to share a laugh about it.

I opened my door and flicked on the lights, knowing that my roommates had gone home for the weekend and pulled off my wet jacket and shoes. I stood looking at my CD’s trying to make a decision when I heard a knock at the door and the load, hoarse whisper of Monica saying my name. I laughed and opened up the door.

Monica and Chloe both stood there without much joy. Chloe handed me a note. “Read this.”

It was from Lucy and it said her ride to Umass had canceled on her os she took another ride with someone who was leaving tonight.

“The bimbo locked us out!” Chloe growled.

I started to laugh and Monica socked me in the arm.

“Oww!” I laughed still, “Why don’t you just wake up Theresa and get her to let you in?”

“No way! She is already out to get me! If I wake her up at 1:00 AM, slightly drunk, she’ll write me up again.” Chloe said.

“Yeah me too.” Monica added.

“Damn you girls are paranoid.”

“Look dollface, your roommates are gone, why don’t you let us crash here tonight?” Chloe asked.

I though for a moment and said, “Ok, but I need a raise then.”

“How about 3 dollars an hour?”, said Monica.

“A little weak.”

“3 dollars and a t-shirt” added Chloe.

“Now you’re talking, come on in!”

They pushed me aside and spilled into the room, quickly taking off their wet jackets and piling them on mine. Realizing how wet they were, I grabbed some shorts and t-shirts and tossed them over.

“You can change into those if you want, I’ll go hit the bathroom.” I told them.

I walked down the hall, not necessarily in a straight line and took my time brushing my teeth so as not to walk in on the girls changing, never mind how nice that might be. Both girls were quite cute and had titillated me more than once before. Whatever ideas came up in my drunken mind I didn’t give much credence to them.

When I came back I knocked on the door and went in. Chloe was rooting through my stuff and Monica was sitting on a bed holder her bottle of cheap wine.

“Don’t you have a corkscrew in here?” asked Chloe.

I sighed, opened a drawer, and handed her the pocketknife from inside, while I gave Monica a look.

“What, you think I’m giving Lucy a bottle of wine after she locked us out?”

“Good point” I said.

I plugged in the “dorm room mood lighting” that consisted of several strands of Christmas tree lights and turned on the stereo. When I sat down they had both taken a drink from the bottle and Monica handed it to me.

“See what I mean Eric? So damn useful! What a guy you are giving us a place to crash. Here’s to you.” Chloe toasted me with an imaginary glass.

We sat and talked for a while, just shooting th shit and teasing one another as friends are prone to do.

“So is this at all like a slumber party?” it occurred to me to ask.

“A slumber party?” said Monica, “Not like any I have ever been to.”

“Yeah, it’s not really a slumber party until you play Truth or Dare!” added Chloe.

“Oh shit, yes! We have to play truth or dare!” squealed Monica.

Chloe and I both laughed at Monica’s exuberance.

“No, I’m serious, come on it will be fun.”

“Fine”, said Chloe, “I’ll play but you have to go first.”

“Eric, don’t be a weenie, you have to play too.” Monica ordered.

“Ok, already I’ll play, but you have to go first.”

“Fine, fine, someone ask me then,” Monica said, sitting up now and getting ready for her challenge. Chloe looked at me, but I deferred to her.

“Truth or Dare, Monica?”

“Truth!”

“OK, did you hook up with Greg Childs at that party 2 weeks ago?”

Monica burst out laugh as her face turned red, “Oh my god, he wishes we did! I gave him a kiss, but that was all!”

“Monica? Truth?” Chloe insisted.

Monica held up a scout sign, “Honestly, scouts honor, I didn’t!”

Chloe looked at me skeptically and I said, “Come on, her and Greg?”

“You didn’t see how drunk she was.”

“Ok, Ok, your turn Eric, Truth or Dare?” said Monica.

“Truth.”

“If you could hook up with anyone on this floor of the dorm, who would it be?”

“Oh shit, let me think?”

“Present company excluded”, Chloe added with just a little hesitation.

“Let’s see,” I thought out loud, “Oh you guys will kill me.”

“What, who?” said Monica.

“Theresa.” I said.

“What? She’s such a bitch!” said Monica.

“Oh my god, you just said that cuz she has big tits!” accused Chloe.

I laughed, “I guess I have a thing for authority figures, yeah she can be a pain, but she’s hot, ask around. Besides you asked who I would hook up with, not go out with.”

“You dork.” Said Monica laughing at me. I just grinned at her.

“Your turn Chloe, truth or dare?”

“Dare.” She said matter of factly.

Monica leaned over and whispered in my ear. When I heard what she said, I laughed.

“I dare you to do the splits.” I said.

Chloe rolled her eyes and said, “Are you kidding?”

“Nope, let’s se what you got, sport.”

She sighed and stood up. She set her feet apart, held her hands out and said, “I’m only doing this once.” Then she solely slid to the ground, stretching her legs wide until she sat in front of us performing a textbook split. Monica applauded and I joined her. Chloe curled back up into a sitting position and I asked were she learned it. Monica said, “She used to be a cheerleader!”

“Get out! You?” I said.

“It was only freshman year.” She said grudgingly.

“I would love to see those pictures!”

“Oh I bet you would.” She jabbed back, “Ok, Monica back to you, Truth or Dare?”

“Um, Truth.”

“You wuss.” said Chloe.

“Oh just ask me.”

“Ok miss Monica, tell us what your most unusual sexual experience was?”

“Oh shit!” I said.

“Oh, I’m not answering that!”

“Come on Monica, fess up, this was your idea, tell the truth now.” Chloe told her.

“Well, I don’t know, I mean what do you mean unusual?”

“That’s up to you to decide. Here have some wine, maybe that will jog your memory.” She handed Monica the bottle, and while she drank we both started laughing.

“Alright, but you both have to swear not to tell anyone else!” Monica said.

“Of course not, who would we tell?” I told her.

“I’m serious, you both have to promise what gets said here, stays here.”

“We promise, don’t we Chloe?”

“Yeah, we promise, now fess up!”

“Well, this one time my senior year, it was after a party at my friends house, we were sitting around, my friend and I and our boyfriends, and well, we kind of had a contest.” Monica told us, a little red faced.

“What kind of contest?” said Chloe.

“Well, kind of a who-can-give-their-boyfriend-the-best-blowjob contest.” Monica replied as her face grew redder.

We both sat their with our mouths open for a second.

“What?”

“You gave them both blowjobs?!”

“No! We just kind of started at the same time and whoever finished first was the winner.”

“Holy cow!” I said.

“You little tart!” teased Chloe.

“Technically the fastest isn’t necessarily the best though,” I said.

“Oh shut up!” Monica snapped.

I laughed.

“So who won?” Chloe asked, and now Monica turned bright red and we both new the answer and burst out laughing.

“You go girl!” Chloe yelled and put up her hand looking for a high five from Monica, who rolled hher eyes, laughed, and slapped Chloe’s hand.

“Ok, Eric’s turn, Truth or Dare?” Monica said.

“Alright, dare.”

Monica looked at me cruelly, “I dare you to kiss Chloe’s ass.”

We all laughed again.

“Ok,” I started, “Chloe, you are so smart and beautiful, you are the best person I know in the entire world.”

Chloe continued laughing and Monica protested, “No, no! You know what I mean, you have to kiss her ass for real!”

I looked at Chloe and told her to assume the position. She turn around sticking her butt towards me. I leaned over and gave her a peck on her check then looked at Monica, “Happy?”

“Nope, I mean skin on skin honey, kiss that ass!”

I laughed a little uncertainly and looked at Chloe, not sure what to do.

“Oh just get it over with,” she said, and pulled back the top of her shorts exposing her shapely ass. I kept my eyes on Monica, smiled, and gave Chloe’s ass a big wet kiss. That’s when I realized something was happening.

Monica started laughing and calling me an ass-kisser and Chloe pulled her shorts back up and turned to sit back down but not before catching my eye with a look I had never seen before.

“Ok, I’m an ass kisser, ha ha. Chloe, it’s your turn, Truth or Dare?”

“Truth”

“So what is your most unusual sexual experience?”

Monica chimed in, “Wait, you can’t ask a question that has already been asked.”

“What? Since when?”

“Since always, try again.”

I took the bottle of wine and took a swig while I tried to think.

“Ok, what’s your favorite position?”

Monica laughed, “Oh good question?”

Chloe smiled and said confidently, “That’s easy, doggie. I expected a better question than that from you Eric.”

I told Chloe I would try harder next time, and she turned and asked “Truth or Dare?”

“Dare.”

Chloe grinned, “I dare you to kiss Eric.”

“What on the ass? You can repeat questions.”

“I’m not repeating, I dare you to kiss him on the lips, with tongue.”

The room was quiet for a brief second and the proverbial tension hung in the air.

“Chloe, come on…” Monica started.

“Hey, it’s your game, if you are too chicken to play that’s fine.”

Monica looked at me, and then Chloe, trying to figure her out.

“Oh fine, god, it’s no big deal.”

Almost before I knew what was happening, Monica was in front of me. She leaned in close and pressed her lips to mine, gently at first, then harder until they slipped open and her tongue entered my mouth. I responded instinctively and we kissed like that for a few seconds, long enough for me to feel the electricity of the moment.

She drew away from me with a smile and turned to look at Chloe defiantly.

“Well Eric, did she use tongue?”

“Um yeah, yeah, she did.”

“Good, now it’s your turn” Monica asked me truth or dare and I said truth.

Monica stared at me and asked, “Are you turned on right now?”

I blushed right away, giving away my answer, but I said it anyway, looking at each of them. “I suppose I am”, I said a little breathlessly. There was another tense moment before I asked Chloe truth or dare.

Sally was now a commodity; a piece of meat to be sold on the street to strange men for sex. She felt trapped, but at the same time, there was something very sensual about her situation. She found an overpowering sexual gratification from the fact that she was now in slavery to a powerful black pimp who controlled her life.

His street name was Sweet Daddy. Sally never knew his real name. And she never saw a sweet side to the man. She found herself attracted to him because he was extremely brutal. His first act after his men gunned down her attackers that fateful night in the alley was to lean her up against the concrete wall of one of the abandoned buildings, pull out his cock, and fuck her so hard he bruised her hips by slamming them into the cement. His cock was uncircumcised and so large he had no trouble accomplishing this. Even though her pussy was dripping with the semen of 13 dead men lying only a few feet away, he fucked her to orgasm. It was a powerful response that sent muscular contractions through her body. She stiffened, her face flushed, and the muscular contractions in her pussy literally milked his massive cock to ejaculation. With a loud grunt he released hot seed in great spurts that pumped from his hairy black testicles.

“Tell Sweet Daddy you love him,” he said before he pulled his still throbbing cock from her. She looked into his eyes and, without reservation, told him that she did, indeed, love him. She found herself believing it. It excited her even more to be committing herself to loving a strange, giant black pimp, and actually pledging her love to him.

Sweet Daddy’s gang found Sally some clothes . . . much like the ones she was wearing when she was abducted by the gang . . . then took her to another street, a few blocks away, and gave her a key and room number to a hotel on that block. Without a chance to take a break, she was instructed to work the street for Big Daddy. She willingly obeyed him, knowing that this was going to be her life as long as she chose to serve him.

Her charge was 50 a blow-job, 100 for a quick fuck lasting no more than 10 minutes, or up to 1,000 for the night. She was expected to earn at least 500 a night. Any less and there would be “consequences.” She was to wait for him in the room in the morning. All of the money was to be turned over to him. What Sally received in return was his protection, her meals, a roof over her head and his “love” whenever he felt like it. She, in turn, was expected to love him and do his will, without reservation. That was it. She was literally his slave. She did not know how many other whores served Sweet Daddy but she was sure he had a literal harem.

The clients, or “johns” as they were called in the trade, began using Sally within minutes after she stepped out of Sweet Daddy’s car and onto the street. She was fresh, white and the new sensation on the block. It did not take long for the word to get out.

Her first client was a white, well dressed man who came in a late model car. He said he wanted a blow job. Sally took his money and asked him to follow her to the room. But he grabbed her arm and pulled her back. “Do it right here,” he demanded. “I want you to show everybody what a dirty whore you are.”

Sally was shocked. “Here, in the street?” she asked.

He grinned. Then allowed his suit coat to fall open so she could see the gun strapped to his shoulder. “Yeah,” he said. “Right here in front of everybody.”

A crowd was starting to form. Mostly black men. A few women. Sally didn’t know what to do. “I will give you your money back, sir. I can’t do what you ask.”

“Yes you will bitch,” the man said. “I am a cop. Do it or go to jail. Take your choice.” He pulled out his gun and pointed it at her head.

Sally had spent enough time in jail cells in the made-up world of Deathmaster. That was not an option she wanted to take. She dropped to her knees, unzipped the man’s pants, and pulled out his cock. It was unusually large. The cautiously put her mouth on the end of it and started sucking it with her lips. The crowd gathered around. She heard jeers and laughter.

As she sucked the man’s cock got hard and thick. She felt the barrel of his handgun pressed against her head and sucked harder, closing her lips down tight. She wanted to get this over with as fast as possible. The man had fantastic endurance. She sucked for at least 15 minutes as he simply stood there. Then, as his orgasm approached, he put his free hand on the back of her head and pulled her harder into him. He began thrusting his hips, fucking her mouth and driving his cock deep into her throat. She choked on it.

Then, with a powerful thrust, he shoved his cock deep into her throat, cutting off her windpipe, and kept it there. She couldn’t breathe. She felt the massive organ begin to jerk and pump hot bursts of semen into her throat. She gagged on it but couldn’t vomit. His cock blocked everything. Her head was spinning. She was losing consciousness when he finally withdrew.

Sally fell to the pavement and wretched violently. The people around her laughed and drifted away. The cop got back into his car and drove off. She was alone in the street, still gagging and spitting.

So this was the life of a whore, she thought.

THIS STORY IS INTENDED FOR ADULT READING ONLY

-

Some mornings you wake up and think you’ve gone to heaven - on a broomstick.

-

As always, it was the dawn chorus of the birds in the trees behind the hut which woke Hal. Without having to open his eyes he knew that the very first colors of dawn were beginning to stain the blackness of the eastern wall through the chinks in the planks. Yet, even though he knew where he was, Hal’s head was still full of the most incredible dream of any night of his life. A beautiful witch, a shape changing familiar, the same beautiful woman kneeling at his feet calling herself his slave - and that was the least part of his imaginings! Gregory beaten down in a sorcerers’ duel, the King’s hands burnt off, Hal standing under the eyes of the collected nobility as Gregory’s robe had fallen upon him! What fever must he have been in to have culled up such madness?

Indeed, it seemed he had not yet entirely broken through out of night fevers for his body seemed to be clad in some garment of impossible smoothness whilst underneath him was a bed so deep and soft that only a god or goddess lying on a cloud could ever have known its equal.

Hal’s sleep glued eyelids suddenly broke open. Complete darkness still enveloped the interior of the hut. He stretched out a hand and felt around him. A pillow underneath his head almost as big as himself, a pillow of a softness and depth to match the bed he was resting in. His fingers touched a thin wooden post rising high above the bed, with whorls and twists cut into the surface.

He must be still dreaming, still far away in another world, for how else could he be waking up in a noble’s canopied bed whilst still inside the dragon hut? Perhaps he could no longer tell the difference between real and false. But mad or bewitched, Hal knew he needed a piss with a desperation that made his groin ache with pain.

He didn’t so much get out of the bed as slide over the side, like an otter slithering down a steep river bank, into the loose straw on his hands and knees. The stabbing ends of the stalks and the beaten earth beneath them were reminders of every other day he could remember since he’d begun sleeping in the hut - reminders that at least something in his life was still the same. He stood up and shook his head in bewilderment. Whatever he was wearing, it felt as fine spun as a spider’s web and was hanging like a monk’s cowl around his rock hard cock. He moaned again - he needed to break his locked flesh quickly before his bladder burst.

Something else was moving behind him in the shed, something between a shadow and a sinuous presence, something which padded more lightly than a stalking lynx over and around the piles of straw. Hal strained his arms to lift one of the sagging doors and swing it open. Josephine’s head nudged against his back as the gap widened, and then she was brushing past him, her wings stretching out as soon as there was room enough. As the dragon launched herself into a sky littered with slowly fading stars Hal seized the bucket on the side of the well, dropped it down the shaft and quickly hauled it up again after hearing a splash below. The chill water inside the bucket he slopped over his prick, the sudden shock making him gasp and softening his stiffness. Within seconds he was standing against the hut, resting his forehead on the planks, sighing with relief as he let out a stream of sharp smelling piss.

Then he looked down and saw a blur of white patterns on the black material ruffed up around his wrists. A silky black gown with white markings on it? A bed inside the hut? Why couldn’t his mind wake up with the rest of him and simply admit that he’d spend yesterday emptying shit pots, in just the same way as he was going to spend this day and all the other days of his life?

A drop of piss splashed back from the wall and landed in the deep scratches at the top of his right leg. Hal gasped at the burning sensation in his red raw flesh, cursing Morgana’s familiar and its claws. Fully awakened now yet frozen with shock, Hal stood like a statute, his cock still held between his fingers, working through a chain of logic he couldn’t break. He had the pain, so he must have the wound, so everything he remembered about that fucking big cat trying to claw off his balls must have happened. And if that had happened, then every other impossible thing he was remembering must also have happened. Either that or he completely barking mad, madder than a March hare.

Hal looked up at the mountain peaks looming clear and sharp against the dawn’s advancing red banner. No, if madness it was, it was still lodged inside his head refusing to go away. Especially the madness that was Morgana le Fay. With sudden decision Hal pulled the robe up over his body, over his head. He walked back to the well, laid the robe gently on the surrounding wall, then dropped the bucket and hauled it up again, brimming to the top. Nearby was a crude table, made of trimmed branches split in half and lashed together with strips of leather.

Hal put the bucket down on the table, leaned forward, pushed his face deep into the icy water, letting it claw at his cheeks and eyes. Air bubbled out from his mouth, out of his nose. His body tingled from the shock. He stood up, eyes still closed, lifted up the bucket and sluiced half of the contents over his naked body, gasping and grunting as shivers spread out from his spine.

Hal reached inside the leather bag hanging from the side of the table and took out a scrap of soap and a rag. As he soaped himself he decided he wasn’t mad after all - so why was he suddenly smelling hot bacon and freshly baked bread?

He picked up a wooden mug hanging beside the bag and sluiced the last traces of lather from his skin, then began to rub himself dry with a piece of sheepskin. A gentle breeze curled cold fingers around his balls as he wiped them. The wind didn’t bother Hal, but the aroma of freshly prepared food mixed in with the moving air continued to tease and puzzle him. Wherever it was coming from, the source was very close. Hal’s eyes moved downwards, onto the washing table. Next to the bucket a square shape had appeared, square and white at the top. It was still too dark to see exactly what it was but there seemed to be a arch above the square shape. Hal touched the shape with gently exploring fingers - wickerwork. A wickerwork basket with a carrying handle and a pure white cloth tucked over the appetite arousing contents of the basket. So who had carried it here?

“A good morning to you, Master.”

Morgana! Standing with a few paces of him, yet still cloaked in the darkness so that he could only see her outline. As tall and wide as a Icelandic warrior and yet reminding Hal of a swan, somehow graceful even when not moving.

“Your dragon, Master. Does she dance every morning?”

Hal looked up, far up into the sky, where the rays of the sun were fanning out above the peaks. Alone in the shining heavens was a tiny shape, twisting and turning on silver wings set on a silver body. Morgana’s word was well chosen. Josephine did seem to be dancing, although he’d never thought of that of it that way before.

“No, not every morning, though more often of late. But only in the last few months. She never did it before. She would flap her wings like a cock when the sun rose, but not fly. And ’tis only when she flies so high and so early that she takes that look of polished steel on her skin. I know not why, though I’ve tried to find out.”

“Eat, Master, before your food cools. Unless you would have it served at a breakfast table in the castle by servants.”

“No need for that.”

No need at all for anything but the food - he was ravenous. Hal’s hand moved towards his robe to dress his nakedness, then checked itself. What might happen if he should accidentally soil it with grease? A robe woven with magic was clothing which might take revenge for such disrespectful treatment. So Hal stayed in his state of nature as he seized meat in one hand and bread in the other, one and the other hand raised alternatively to his mouth as he reveled in the quality of the food. Meat and the best of rich wheat ground bread! A whole basketful of it. The King himself wouldn’t be eating any better.

Morgana suddenly laughed and Hal felt a shiver that owed nothing to damp skin stroked by a cold breeze. It was unlikely that Argud was eating anything at all this morning. And there was nothing at all about Morgana which promised anything good from any laugh of hers. He looked warily at her with shreds of bacon fat hanging from his lips.

“Well, Duke Merlin, there is much work to do before I can present you to foreign courts as a diplomat and a courtier. Especially in improving your table manners.”

Hal felt his face crease in puzzlement until he could swallow the food in his crammed mouth and answer.

“I, a courtier? I think you speak in riddles to make mock of me. Though I know that King Argud named me a Duke so that I could go with Josephine to any place where she might find a mate. I believe he wanted me to be of some rank to negotiate with foreign nobles for stud rights for a male dragon, if there be such a thing in captivity anywhere.”

“That is true, Master. You were to control the dragon and I was to control you. And when we had found a male dragon we were to bring back eggs enough to breed fighting dragons for Argud. Then he would defeat the Empire.”

It was Hal’s turn to laugh. “Yes, something of the same sort he said to me as you were fighting Gregory. Even with the portcullis between us I dared not tell him what I thought of his madness. Fight the Empire! As well try to knock down yonder castle with a straw. No, none of that madness for me. I seek no foreign courts, nor fancy ways.”

“And what about Josephine?”

“Josephine?”

“Why do you think she is flying so high, and with such coloring? Is it not clear that’s she’s displaying herself thus every new day in the hope of finding a mate?”

“Oh.”

Hal blinked and looked upwards again as Josephine begin a long spiral earthwards. Again, what the witch had set had put his mind along a new path, but seemingly a true one. If a dragon wanted to be seen by another dragon what better way than to fly high at the start of each day and cavort in the brightest of light in a blazing silver coat. If there was another dragon with forty leagues looking skywards. . . another dragon. A pang of regret closed around his heart.

“But there are no more dragons, I’m sure of it. There haven’t been any dragons since the old legends were written.”

“Perhaps. But you found one, Master. How did that come about?”

Hal hesitated. This was something he had never told anybody before, for it was not a story which any mere turd hauler could tell without being the butt of a thousand jests.

“I had a dream. About a great tree with red and white leaves. The red leaves were as bright as blood and the white leaves like fresh snow. Then I woke up, in the middle of the night and a gale of wind was blowing, so strongly I thought the roof would blow off my family’s hut. And then I heard a faraway noise in the forest, a sound like a big tree being blown over.”

The first beams from the climbing sun to find a gap through the mountain passes fell across Morgana’s face. On her tresses of black hair, on her perfectly shaped high arching eyebrows, on dark lashes which somehow seemed to curve up at the corners in a way he’d never seen on any woman’s face before. But most of all the beams fell on two golden sparks set deep between the dark lashes: eyes which reflected the sunlight like crystal shields. Eyes which saw everything but showed nothing. The words stuck in Hal’s throat as he struggled to continue his account.

“Yes, Master? What then?”

“It - it seemed strange, to dream of a falling tree and then to awake and hear one toppling over in the forest. I got up and went outside the hut. It was a full moon and the tree tops were bent over by the howling wind like reeds in a river’s flood. I picked up a stick and laid it in the direction the wind was coming from. I thought the noise had been blown along by the wind so that would be the way to go to find the fallen tree. I didn’t know why I wanted to find it. I went back to my bedding skins and back to sleep. I thought it wouldn’t matter to me anymore in the morning. But somehow it did. I woke up early and it was so calm there wasn’t a leaf fluttering. But I went in the direction the stick pointed.”

“I walked a long way - or at least, I walked for what seemed a long time. There were lots of bramble patches, rotten tree trunks to scramble over, a swampy area. I tried to use the sun to keep going in the right direction. I had a large sack of rags I tied to branches to mark my trail. I had a axe as well but I was frightened to use it to cut guiding cuts on the trees in case a bear or a pack of wolves heard the noise and came after me. I was getting very frightened at how far I’d gone into the forest and I’d almost run out of rags when I found the tree I’d heard fall.”

Hal noticed that although Josephine was still circling downwards she was doing it over the castle, as though she wanted to make sure nothing unusual was happening there. The nothing, perhaps, being a crowd of nobles in full armor getting ready to make a dawn attack on the dragon hut. The dragon was clever, clever, and once again he wondered what had happened to the rest of her kind. Probably they had been hunted to extinction when some human had found the same secret of dragon sweat’s power to arouse lust that Hal himself had discovered.

“And then you found the egg - just one?”

Hal hastily summoned his wits back to answer Morgana’s insistent questions.

“Yes, inside the earth that was in the middle of the tree’s roots. Only one. I took it and came away. I was frightened and had much work to do in the castle, so I came back as soon as I’d picked up the egg. And I hid it away in a pile of dung where it would get warm. But I never thought anything would hatch from it.”

“And yet you told nobody?”

This was no self professed slave talking, this was a master addressing to an inferior. A sorcerer talking to an apprentice, mayhap. But Hal had no interest at all in seeking a dispute with the witch in whatever role she wanted to act out. That would have been as sensible as jousting against an armored knight with a pea pole for a lance.

“I’m a shit carrier. I don’t have anybody to talk to. And if I’d told anybody in my family about it they’d probably have boiled the egg and eaten whatever was inside it.”

“But after the dragon hatched you showed the King where you’d found the egg?”

“Yes. I had to and the rags were still on the branches to show the way. Hundreds of men were sent into the forest and dug all around the tree but they found nothing.”

“What about the leaves on it? Were they as you dreamed them?”

Hal shook his head: “No, they weren’t red and white, just green. It was only an ordinary beech tree. A high one before it fell, but there was nothing different about it from all the other beech trees in the forest.”

“Red and white, red and white,” the witch repeated, apparently thinking the matter over.

The bar of light across Morgana’s face had slipped further down. A nose, not snub, but nearer that description than any other, high cheek bones, a touch of gold in the lobe of close set ears, the gleam of the earrings matching that of the witch’s eyes. Eyes that never seemed to blink.

Behind Morgana’s brooding figure, Josephine had flown away from the castle walls, apparently getting ready to land outside the hut. No longer silver, now she was dressed in casual day wear of light green with traces of yellow along her flanks. Hal knew enough about the dragon to know she yearned for something, and now he could guess well enough what it was. How long had he himself stared helplessly at desirable girls who only laughed at him? How much worse for Josephine, with no other dragon at all for company, let alone to couple with?

It was a thought which matched the final illumination of the bottom part of Morgana’s face. Small and pouting lips, a dimpled chin, full cheeks. Somehow she reminded Hal of a young maid sulking over some childish tiff. Which led to a further and worrying thought.

“Chelinde and Caelia: where are they?” Hal asked. “Are they all right?”

“Certainly, Master. They’re with their mother. I sent them home because I could not risk you coupling with them now, as I’m sure you wish to do.”

“Mmm.”

Hal hadn’t thought at all about settling back into that big soft warm bed with the soft warm bodies of the sisters on each side of him. But now the suggestion had been made - wait, what had the witch just said?

“You can’t risk me having a fuck?” Oh Odin, was he going to end up as frustrated as Josephine again?

“Not just yet. We have a powerful spell to cast today - no, you have a powerful spell to cast. To strip Gregory of his powers and lock him out of this world.”

The bread inside Hal’s stomach seemed to be swelling, as if still in the oven, growing and pressing against the walls of his stomach.

“I can’t do anything against Gregory - I’m not a warlock. You may be stronger than he is but I’m nothing.”

“Which is what you’ll stay unless you take another adept’s power. There is only so much magic in the world. None of it ever disappears, none of it ever appears. The only work to become a worker in magic is to take over the hoarded power of another magician. I can help you conquer Gregory but you must play the vital part in the ceremony.”

Again, as often of late, Hal was completely baffled by the turn of events.

“What is it that you think I can do?”

“You must take over a spell I shall cast, make it your own, and then blow on it as if it were a burning twig until it has become a mighty fire. And there is your bellows waiting to be used.”

Now there was another smile on Morgana’s face, an even more twisted one than usual. She held her hand up, palm outward, and a flicker of sunlight seemed to turn in midair, as if hitting a mirror, falling directly onto Hal’s groin. He stared down in horrified fear of seeing his most precious possession suffer the same awful fate as Argud’s hands. But his cock was still there, and not only present but stirring as if it could draw energy from the sun like Josephine.

“Oh, Odin,” Hal muttered.

He wasn’t thinking about anything to do with girls, he was thinking about how much breakfast was left in the basket. Well, all right, just a quick thought about sharing that big bed in the shed with Caelia and Chelinde, a very, very quick thought, but that was all. He lifted his eyes, tried to pretend the rearing head and neck down there was nothing to do with him. But the warmth and the tingle coming from the witch’s palm - by all the gods and trolls, that wasn’t pure innocent sunlight. It was like water laced with dragon sweat. Was that what the witch was doing, letting him know she had seen through his childish tricks?

Morgana lowered her hand, the ray of light faded away, but his cockstand was still up and sniffing the wind as keenly as before, as if hunting for the scent of a hot cunt.

“Master, do those scratches from Ymir’s claws still pain you?”

“Yes.”

“Then sit on the well wall and spread your legs so I can apply some salve.”

Hal threw the damp sheepskin on top of the wall and perched his skinny buttocks on it. As the witch moved closer he stared at her face, and then at her long fingers as she lifted a tiny pot up into the light and touched the contents of the container with their tips. His hard cock stayed as firm as a scepter resting in a monarch’s lap. Those long fingers and those lightly smeared fingertips pressed down gently between his balls and the top of his leg. At their touch the pain from the scratches faded away as if by magic - well, yes, by magic. And Hal’s manhood quivered with raging lust on his boy’s body.

I used to watch his cock all day long. I don’t know if he knew how often I watched that part of him, I had never told him. Always angling down the right side of his tight jeans; outline clear. And always I walked around my labia swollen, an apricot between my legs, ready to be eaten.

And now I sit here in an Italian restaurant with him. My desire huge and unwieldy, my flesh full and my apricot drips my clit hard as its pit. I’m married, 5 years now and yet still I sit beside him here.

He eats his pasta and I stare at his strong outdoor fingers and veiny hands and then his muscular forearms. Still some of that outdoor man left, still pieces even though his middle is softer, his mustache grayer. He’s an administrator now - far from that guy I knew who hiked all day to toss water bottles in a lake to test for water quality.

Still, I know what he has down there under the table in his lap. I remember its power and its hold over me. I know how it can grow; much longer until my eyes are riveted on his jeans and I can’t tear them away. Tonight, though, it’s hidden, under the table in slightly baggy pants, the type you would wear to meetings with clients.

We eat food, and I am food. I drip a little more, my vulva is warm thick cake batter dripping all over the chair. I want him to dip his fingers in me and suck them off slowly. As if I were a dipperful of hot fudge sauce. To put his fingers in my mouth so I could taste and lick the sweet saltiness too. Right there in the restaurant. I want to savor the taste of it and see the darkness of lust in his eyes. I want his fingers deep inside me, pushing hard and deep. Instead, I leak all over the chair.

He talks about work, about vacation, about his house. I listen with only the minimum attention it takes to occasionally say m’hmm. I can’t focus on this talk - it’s not why I’m here. I scoop a few strands of green noodles on my fork. I jiggle the fork in the air, noodles dangling, and then smack it on the green pile on my plate, lumpy cold, congealed pesto on it. I can feel my nervousness rise up to my throat and surround a noodle still stuck there. I want to talk about the reason that I am here. I smash my fork into my noodles and I can feel my frustration. So can he and he stops talking. We look at each other and burst out laughing; some of the tension is taken away with the laughter.

“Can we talk about my request? The reason I am here,” I ask. Desire aches in my wrists, my belly, my ass, the place where each little hair attaches to my head - that place that remembers his touch. I want to slide on his sweat slicked skin. “Sure,” he says. Except I don’t want to talk at all. What I really want to do is go outside right this moment and fuck. Let’s get out of here, can we go to the back of your truck, I want to say. Lie down on the hard ridges that are probably there although I’ve never been there.

I want to feel his hot penis in the entrances and exits in my body. In ANY entrance or exit - any would do. My mouth - sucking on him, until hot juice squirted, letting it run down my chin. In the ass, oh yes, that too, especially that, I remember that very well. In slowly, slowly because he’s big and I’m not used to anything up there. Feel his belly skin kissing my lower back.

And of course, in the usual place, the vagina, the cunt, the vulva, the soaking sucking cave where once only fingers and waxy long phallic vegetables had been. Where later IUDs and diaphragms waited. Where dildos and penises, yes those, a number of them over the years, some memorable, some not, had been.

And now where now two fiery bowling ball heads of babies had passed. Molly, my body trying to expel her over and over again. Over 40 hours and nothing left when the doctor finally pulled her out of me. And Abby in a hurry taking 8 minutes of pushing they told me. I don’t know - it was forever. Me screaming -get that thing out of me- and then my daughter came out blue and with a cord wrapped around her neck. All of a sudden everyone was quiet and very busy. I didn’t know - they didn’t tell me. I was just left with my agonizing efforts to push out the placenta.

Had these two girl heads changed my cunt for him? I wouldn’t know, because there I was, married. On the other side. My breasts tighten and I want to squirt my infants milk all over him. I want him to taste it, to lap it up, and to plunge into me and my belly that remembers those babes that rose from beneath. I want him to fuck me, a mother.

He tells me about seeing my husbands face in his thoughts about sex with me. He tells me he sleeps occasionally with other “old friends” because he has no relationship right now. Old friends, but not with me, he wouldn’t. He talks of his mom who strayed from his dad. He talks of protecting a family from the destruction of an affair.

Birth control. “What do you and your husband do,” he asks? He has had a vasectomy, I tell him. Oh well, that would be an issue too, he says. He has found another stone to put in his wall. Another barrier so that he could stay safe.

I know better, I know how the barrier he is putting up can be knocked down, can be scrambled over. It’s easy when I’m consumed with the need to touch every inch of him. The wall he puts up in front of me is what is allowing me to push, to be fully ready for what he can accept from me. I know that if he lets his wall down, then. well then, I will play the aggressor, pushing in the cracks of his life. It’s the afterward, the feelings that are unknown. And that doesn’t matter either right now.

But I can’t push him. I can’t cross the barriers he’s put up. He would retreat and disappear. And I would bear full responsibility of the actions because I moved towards him and he didn’t come towards me. Right now, I can’t take that. Right now, I am farther out than I ever have been in my life and I am scared.

For now, I am to stay away. That body is not for me; other bodies are for him, yes. Hot, hot sex with others. And sometimes cold, tight, dry attempts that don’t end in satisfaction. But me - who has all these memories, these images - no, I’m on the other side of the wall I’ve created with my family.

There is no touching of hands, or knees, or hugging. No caring gestures. Why would there be? I walked back into his life after 5 years of marriage, after more than 10 years since we were together and here I am lusting. He says he was surprised when I asked him, but now he really isn’t, now it seems inevitable. He talks about a connection between the two of us, how after 5 years we still can just talk. I think about his erect penis in my face.

The administrator isn’t of interest to me right now, not really, all I really want now is the maleness in his pants. The maleness I know he carries in his caresses and touches. His backrubs and hairpulls; his lust. His way of knowing me sexually. But I see no evidence of any of this. Just my memory. The desire of him, to have him, to have him have me, take me. With every drop of his maleness. Yes, I’m a mother, a wife, a partner and not to him. But right now my only desire is to be a woman, a woman fucked by a man. This man beside me.

We talk about friends and I remember the time we hiked all day up a mountain to take water samples. I see us standing on a jutting rock at the top, and looking down over the lake far below. He unzips his pants and releases his erect penis It springs out, unfettered, eye and head jutting proudly out. His body the pole, his penis the flag, advertising him - a man. A man at the top of the mountain. A man full of lust. I sink to my knees on hard rock and take him into my mouth. Slowly, a lick at a time, I savor the sweatiness of him. I try to get my mouth over him, but I already know I can only get my mouth over the end of him. The shaft still there for my hand to slide over. I feel my saliva, my spit cover him and I lick my hands so that my spit covers them too. Until my hands, his penis, my mouth, my face are all squishy and slick. And I suck, and lick. I am lusting and I see him out there wet and bobbing, silly and beautiful in its maleness. And when the time comes and he releases his juice, I let him spurt all over me and then move away to let him spray onto the mountaintop.

A woman on a mountain. A woman strong, solid and lusting. And a man. I want him inside me, but he is spent. So I turn and go over to our lunches. Knowing that in a while - an hour or two, I’ll find the perfect place and I’ll have him take me from behind, pounding and pounding. And then I’ll turn him over in the dirt, with his hiking boots still on, hold his hands above his head and suck myself onto him gently. Agonizingly slowly I’ll lower myself down.

After a bit, I’ll grind my pelvis into his - sharp, tensions building up. Until I feel deep inside me, a releasing, a squeezing and rhythmic lapping. Deep, deep inside me, all the way from my labia up, way back up, into the depths of my body. And I draw my mouth back in ecstasy and agony and ride him up and down until I scream. Then slowing down a bit, but the tension is still there and it rises up again, this time more towards my clitoris, my vulva, the outer barrier of the inner world and the outer world. The place where my two daughters had ripped out of me to be in this world. And this time, when I climax, it’s more immediate, more in this world.

Finally, I release his arms, and stretch out on top of him. My whole body covers his, my legs hold his penis firmly between me and in me. Up and down, slowly and softly. I feel tension rising again, only this time it’s a sweet release, a nice quiet release and as I come, he groans and shoves himself into me. Finally he hangs on to me tightly, and shudders. Shudders and shudders.

“Do you want another beer,” he asks in our Italian restaurant. My spaghetti sits in front of me, it again makes my stomach roil. He really has a lot of work to do tonight he says, but this is much more fun. Having dinner with a friend. I think about how in my memory and fantasy, I have climaxed three times in a row and that when I knew him, when I fucked him, I didn’t usually come more than once at a time. He doesn’t know that about me. Ten years is a long time. A marriage, two pregnancies and births and two young kids is a lot of experience.

Again I ask - “why not me? What about my requests? He tells me I am making this hard. I look over at the next table, at the family in red shirts, the 6 boys all dressed just like each other, at the mother and father dressed in red shirts too. I remember my 41/2 year old daughter. This afternoon before I left, I told her that I’d leave something for her when I came in so she’d know I checked on her while she slept. I take a napkin and write - I love you, Mo. He sits next to me and sees me as a mother, a caretaker.

And I want him to take my breasts, my tight, giant, milk filled mother breasts and squirt and lick and suck. And I want him to squirt his magnificent man member into my breasts while I squirt them. Two body fluids - one filled with cells and proteins necessary to create new life; the other