A journal of wanton and wildly inappropriate sex.






Tuesday, May 2, 2006
In Which I Meet A Famous Man.
It Didn't Stay In Vegas, Pt III

NOTE: New posts go at the top, as in most blogs, but that means that in a story like this, spread over several posts, you really need to find the first post in the series and read them in order. So, that's what I suggest you do here.

We all slept in until about Noon, when my cell phone went off. I should have turned it off when I put it on the charger as Belle and Kelsey had done with theirs, so they were a bit steamed at me until they noticed the time, when their gruff aspersions turned to muffled mumbles.

It was Gina saying that she and Ray wanted to take us all to lunch. I asked if the girls had any other plans (I knew I'd likely be doing whatever Kelsey wanted to do, since this trip was her treat). They both said it sounded like a great idea.

"Where are we going?" I asked, but Gina was very cagey and said she had promised not to give away the surprise, and that it would be a giant surprise. Knowing how capable Ray was of surprising "normal" people, I knew we really had something to look forward to

As we showered together (and, yes, of course we fooled around as we did so), we speculated as to where we'd be going. Ray had gotten us into the Ghost Bar with no problems, so he could probably go right to the head of the line in just about any hard-to-get-into restaurant in Vegas. And Vegas is probably second only to New York City and New Orleans as a culinary capital in the United States.

Many of the top restaurants in New York and New Orleans have "branch offices" in the major casino hotels, serving much the same food as you'd find in the original restaurants, but perhaps with a bit of West Coast or Southwest flair.

Kelsey was hoping it'd be Emeril's. Belle had already been there with her uncle, so she doubted it would be Emeril's, thinking he'd want to surprise her as well. She was thinking perhaps they'd hop on his jet and possibly fly to a restaurant in Big Sur she'd heard him talking about, though some restaurants in Los Angeles or Phoenix were also possibilities.

As yet, I had no culinary bearings, so I would just have to wait and hope it'd be good.

We had to rush, because Ray would be picking us up at the Rio's drop off/pickup door at 1, and so we had to cut back on what would have been an extended "How does this top look with this skirt?" or "Are my cheeks sticking out of these shorts?" and so we decided that each of us would dress one of the others. So I dressed Belle who dressed Kelsey who dressed me. It was like "dress up dolls" when I was a little girl, only we got to play with real full-sized dolls we could fuck!

Belle had a pair of spray-on white short shorts in a 50's style that I knew would be "Camel Toe City." I paired those up with a green and pink floral bikini top (the temperature outside was already in the low 80's!) and a pair of green step-in pumps. She decided on no underwear at all, which was a good choice considering how tight her shorts were. I reminded the girls to bring along swim suits "just in case" (since every Las Vegas hotel has a fabulous swimming pool, so Belle stuffed the bottom that matched her bikini top into a shoulder bag which would double as her purse for the day.

For Kelsey, Belle picked out a frilly white tube top that really showed off her incredible (and 100% natural) almost-D-cup boobs and a ripped tummy so tight that her belly button was an almost imperceptible vertical slit unless she actually bent forward. She paired this up with a huge diaphanous red scarf with a blue and yellow batik pattern which, wrapped twice around her waist and rolled at one hip to secure allowed you to get some idea of the pattern in her white lace panties. Adding a pair of white heels with just a touch of platform made Kelsey, already 6' tall, about 6'5" tall. A slender but super-sexy Amazon!

Kelsey found the black stretch capris I'd brought with me, which show off my ass like no other article of clothing I own, and paired it with a sleeveless top bearing a Mondrianesque pattern of squares, rectangles and thick lines in various primary colors on a white background. With the addition of my red wedgies, I was dressed to kill. Like Belle, I wore no undies, and for the same reason: no panty lines.

This done and with only five minutes left before our appointed pickup time, we stuffed whatever we thought we'd be needing into our respective bags, put on our sunglasses, and headed toward the elevator.

Ray and Gina were out waiting, leaning up against the side of the limo. Ray was dressed like so many guys, in light brown Bermuda shorts and a gaudy Hawaiian shirt with flowers the size of dinner plates, each with a ring of hula girls in the center all against a background of palm trees and sunsets.

Gina was in shorts. Not particularly tight. Not particularly sexy. She didn't need to be with Ray. Despite the fact that he paid her for sex, when not having sex they were friends. But she was still smart and sensitive enough not to do anything to make him feel jealous. She knew when to "sex it up" and when not. But no matter how Gina dresses, she's one of he most appealing girls I have ever known.

Belle ran up to her uncle, who gave her a warm (but not weirdly warm) hug. I had been wondering how "close" they were, and that kind of answered my question. No boundaries were being crossed there. Nothing strictly "taboo" was going on between them, though for sure they knew and witnessed much more of each other's private lives than most people would regard as "normal."

We all clambered in the back and once we were all strapped in, Ray tapped on the little window between our compartment and the driver and we were off.

"So," asked Belle, "can you tell us where we're going to be eating?"

Ray smiled slyly and said, "You've eaten there before, but even so I hope it's a surprise, because it's been a while...and the last time I know you liked it very much."

Belle's expression was a mix of slight disappointment and puzzlement. She had been hoping for someplace new, but now her mind had turned to guessing where it might be we were going.

As we turned out of the drive, it became clear we were not going to be going anywhere on the strip, and instead were heading out into the boonies.

We listened to some CD's Belle had backed. She liked 80's rock and so we got our fill of Duran Duran, ABC, Thomas Dolby, and Hall and Oates. Not my cup of tea (I would have preferred Coltrane or Moby or Dirty Vegas) but I got into the mood and soon was singing along.

About a half hour went by and after checking the window to see where we were, Belle turned and said, "I think I know where we're going. We're going to Uncle (name withheld)'s place, aren't we Uncle Ray?" Gina smiled and nudged Ray with her elbow. Ray just smiled, but it was clear to all that now that only two of us didn't know where we were going. Equally clear was that Kelsey and I would have to wait. The name Belle had used had been a common first name, and so that was no help at all. I did sense, though, that when she used "Uncle" to refer to this mysterious person, it was the affectionate usage of the word, not the genealogical one.

About 1:45 p.m., we turned off the main road onto a narrow asphalt road that led into the nearby mountains. After about 10 minutes, we arrived at a solid iron gate. A gate that had a uniformed guard in a red brick guard house. This gate was the only interruption in a 15-foot tall stone wall that went on and on in both directions. Desert and wall almost as far as the eye could see, but of course the terrain was a bit hilly, so we couldn't really see more than a half mile or so in one direction and a bit less in the other.

"Hello, Mr. (and here I withhold Ray's last name)," said the guard, who added, "You're expected." Once we passed through the gate, it was like stepping into another world. In fact, it was almost like stepping back into Ohio. Instead of the light brown soil and scrub that characterize so much of Nevada, we were in the midst of a gigantic green lawn, with ponds and shade trees.

A double brace of Dobermans ran beside the car, racing us to our destination, their tongues flailing in the breeze, their dark pitiless eyes trained on the car. I pitied anyone who wanted to burglarize this place. These dogs didn't look like they'd be distracted by a few T-bones. They seemed trained to accompany anyone or anything on the property! And they were probably trained to go Medieval on anyone who did anything they weren't supposed to do.

When we got to the front door, there was a man in the doorway talking to a what appeared to a young Mexican-looking woman in an austere (meaning, not fetishistic) maid's outfit.

As we rounded the fountain in front of the house, the man heard us and turned around. I couldn't see who it was, but Kelsey could and she turned to Ray and Gina and said, "Is that...?" She didn't need to finish her sentence before it was clear that it was indeed who she thought it was.

I unbuckled and looked out the window and saw that it was a very famous man from the entertainment industry. I've promised not to say who it was, but it might be an actor, a singer, or even one of the famous magicians who now work mostly in Las Vegas. At any rate, he's a very famous man, and obviously a very rich one as well.

We piled out and (let's just call him "NW" for "name withheld") embraced Ray and Gina in one gigantic hug. They were all obviously quite familiar with each other. Ray introduced us and NW made us feel like welcome guests, bidding us to come out of the heat, for by now it was certainly in the high 80's.

"Gina, you never told me..." I whispered to her. "There are things I have to keep to myself, that are for Ray to reveal," she said. "In their world, that they know each other and are really very close friends could backfire and hurt one or the other. You should keep it to yourself as well. Do you promise?" I did. I could sense that Ray had asked her to tell me that. She added, "Be sure that Kelsey understands, too. You can talk about this as much as you like, but never use his name."

NW was in the lead, holding Belle's hand. I could sense that like Ray's, NW's relationship with her was caring, not exploitative. Their deep affection for each other was obvious. Still, they all—Ray, NM, and even Belle—lived in a world with rules different even from my own and Kelsey's rather strange world.

Given the late hour (approaching 2 p.m.) we were led straight through to a glassed-in patio on the shady back side of the house where we were introduced to a short middle-aged jovial woman named Hilda. She was introduced as the "house manager" and head cook. A table was set for six and how we would be eating was made obvious by the buffet table off to one side.

Kelsey and I were agog at what was presented. I think I looked appalled as well, because Hilda confided that "Don't worry. It doesn't go to waste. Anything you don't eat the staff will be free to take home tonight."

Belle behaved like she lived there, because she didn't wait to be invited. She walked over to the buffet, grabbed a plate and started piling it on. "Uncle NW" looked at the rest of us as if to say, "Well, what are you waiting for?"

He and Ray politely let the women go first and soon we were piling out plates with barbecued chicken and ribs, ham, brisket of beef, about six different kinds of salads, and an unbelievable array of pickles. NW explained that "Hilda is an expert pickler, and has even written a book on the subject." (Don't look for a book by Hilda the Pickler...it's not her real name, no more than my real name is Jill Hill.)

There were pickled cucumbers of course, but also pickled citrus rinds all mixed together in one salad bowl. I love pickled watermelon rinds, and was pleased to find some of those. There were also pickled onions, pickled ginger, and a number of pickled fruits and vegetables I could hardly begin to describe. Of course, there was the obligatory garden salad bowl plus a bowl of Caesar salad.

Bread, potatoes, and rice were also in abundance, as were cakes, pies, and other sweets for afterward, but only Belle and NW (who probably faced a buffet like this almost every day) saved room for dessert, although all of us had some espresso from a large espresso maker right there next to the buffet, with the maid NW had been talking to as we arrived serving as barrista.

I see I have neglected to mention the view. Once again, green grass for quite a distance, with the occasional shady bower, each one with a picnic table or two in the center, in some cases with a pond as well.

Outside the dining room was a marble patio and just beyond and below a large swimming pool, complete with lane markers. Belle assured us it met competitive specifications and that she had practiced there whenever she and Uncle Ray visited NW. Apparently she'd been on the swim team in junior high school, but had switched to track later on, which helped explain those incredible legs of hers.

Apparently, she hadn't been out here in quite some time. She later explained that she had finished her high school education in a private school in the UK and had been far too busy in a private college in France to visit NW with her Uncle Ray. She worked as an intern over the summers and it was all she could do to get home for Christmas with her folks. She didn't even get to see Uncle Ray every year during that period.

As our coffee cups approached empty, Belle asked NW, "Is Little Nell still here?" He smiled at the question and replied, "Of course, but she's getting on in years."

Kelsey and I had by now learned that all would be revealed in due course. These people enjoyed keeping us in the dark. I think surprising us was pretty much the fun part for them.

So...after lunch we piled into two golf carts, NW driving one with Belle and Kelsey, and Ray driving me and Gina, and off we went down an asphalt path into the green distance of golf course-like lawn interpersed with trees.

After a short while we came upon what looked like a rather large crater. It turned out to be a big pit with bricked-up walls. A rather narrow staircase led down and NW, Belle in tow, took the lead, leading us down the stairs. This area had to be a couple acres at least and was big enough to have a thick stand of trees in the middle.

A trumpeting sound startled us. And when I say "trumpeting," I do not mean trumpeting like a swan. It was more like an...elephant!!! The "Little" part of "Little Nell" was obviously irony.

"Nellie!" yelled Belle. "Do you think she'll remember me?" she asked NW. "Elephants truly never forget," he said, adding, "So do rhinos, but not in a good way," to which the Ray laughed. I suppose it related to some experience they had shared.

As we all reached the floor of the pit, some of the trees shook and a rather huge elephant (an expression I admit right up front to be redundant) burst out of the trees, huffing as it charged in our direction. Kelsey and I looked at each other as if to say "If you chicken out and run up the stairs, I'm with you," but we saw that the rest of them didn't seem particularly disturbed, and that, besides, we were behind them and would be the first ones up the stairs if a retreat was called for.

The elephant's charge turned into a trot and then a walk. Quite clearly, it didn't want to kill or even scare us now. In fact, it rather slowly and gently walked up to Belle who at first hugged and then straddled the great trunk, which wrapped around her snugly and lifted her up onto it's great head. "She remembers!" cried Belle.

Gina walked up to pat Nell, and it was clear that the animal knew and accepted her as well.

NW explained, "They were great pals when she was a little girl. I think Nell thinks of Belle as a baby elephant. There used to be other animals in here, including a few that could be dangerous to a child, but after watching Nell and Belle together for a while, I noticed that whenever one of the other animals appeared to even show interest in Belle, Nell would get very interested in the other animal, and would even charge from time to time. After a while, all of the animals accepted that Belle was off-limits. Clearly, Nell had adopted her and had become her protector."

Well, Belle invited Kelsey and me to join her, but we weren't so sure. Belle looked at us like a couple of chicken-hearted cowards, so, nearly shitting my pants, I let Nell lift me up. Kelsey, was not going to let this turn into "the time Kelsey was too chicken to ride the elephant" at cocktail parties, so her face evincing palpable terror, she let Nell lift her up as well.

Gina was invited, too, but decided to stay with the guys.

I've ridden a horse on a saddle, but never bareback. It's weird being on such a huge beast, feeling the muscles and bones moving underneath the thick hide. Belle guided Nell all around the huge pit for about an hour. After the first five minutes of sheer terror, it started to be fun.

NW and Ray sat by the stairs, kibitzing while we girls entertained ourselves with the elephant. Now and then they'd wave and then turn back to each other in animated conversation. Obviously, they were the best of friends. Gina sat by Ray's side, obviously soaking up very good conversation.

At last, Belle guided Nell back to the guys and the elephant let us down its trunk. Belle hugged the trunk in a sad good-bye, for she had told us that Nell was already 85 years old in elephant years, and this would probably be her last visit with this childhood friend.

By now, it was late afternoon. We hopped into the carts and drove back to the house. NW invited us to stay for dinner and overnight and...how could we refuse? We were instructed to be ready by 8 and were then handed over to Hilda, who showed us to our room. I'm not sure why a man with no children has a room with four beds in it, but there we were in a room that had seemed a mix of a dormitory and a high-class fancy hotel.

Belle invited us to choose our beds first. Still, there were three of us and four beds, so even with two beds taken, she would have the choice of two. And it's not like there were any beds that sucked. They were all the same. Each bed also had a dresser on one side and a bed table on the other, both with lamps. All also had a love seat and a chair and a fine oriental rug. There wasn't a bad bed in the house!

One wall was floor-to-ceiling window. This window also faced the back of the house and was in perpetual shade. Two beds were on this side of the room and two on the other side. Kelsey and I took window spots, so Belle chose one of the others.

She started jumping up and down on her bed of choice like it was a trampoline. She did this for about 30 seconds and then said, "Wow...I feel horny. How about you guys? Wanna fuck?"

I looked at Kelsey, who was looking at Belle's astonishing body and I said "I'm in, how about you?" Kelsey said, "I could make some time for that!" We all laughed and ripped our clothing off as quickly as we could.

As soon as we were all nude, Belle and Kelsey came my way and we all ended up on my bed in a tangle. For some reason, I became the center of attention, finding myself on my back with Belle Frenching me while Kelsey fingered my pussy and worked her thumb into my asshole. Oh, God, I'm such a whore for attention!

I looked into Belle's great big eyes and said, "I want a taste." She knew what I meant and was soon sitting on my face facing my feet. I could hear her talking sweetly to Kelsey, who talked dirty back. I felt Kelsey's hand pop out of both my holes and I heard someone slurping on either Kelsey's fingers or thumb.

The next thing I knew, Belle and I were in a 69 position and I a glance to my right told me that Kelsey had decided to watch from a nearby chair. She was masturbating by fucking herself steadily with my hairbrush's handle while maintaining a vigorous but intermittent rubbing motion on her clit.

I went back to work on Belle's pussy, which was drooling pussy juice all over my chin and neck. This had me thinking, "Oh, fuck, there's going to be a wet spot on my bed tonight!" But then I remembered there was a spare bed.

I shuddered as Belle started working more and more fingers into my aching snatch. I guess I must have been pretty wet as well!

Another glance at Kelsey showed me she was joining in the fistfest too, because she was up to her wrist in her cunt, with the tip of her other hand's middle finger up her asshole at the same time.

My attention was drawn back to myself as Belle's entire hand popped into my pussy. I'm not a huge fan of fisting, but after all, it was Belle, and jeez I admit I was a little bit hung up on this chick! In fact, you could say I had something of a crush on her. I hate to think what I might have let her do to me. Fisting was pretty low on the list!

I gripped Belle's cheeks and started licking and sucking on her pussy furiously, and from the noises she made, I could tell she was having a lot of fun, too.

We came more or less together and, of course, I squirted. But so did she! I got a flood in my mouth and face and as this happened, she fell off me laughing. I was laughing too.

I looked at Kelsey, who was sitting limply in her chair with a big Cheshire Cat smile.

I got up and so did Belle and Kelsey and with one on each side of me, we walked into the large bathroom, filled the Jacuzzi, and had a leisurely bubble bath as Belle told us stories about her previous visits to Uncle NW's place, most of which revolved around Little Nell and NW's stable of horses. Then we hopped into our individual beds. After all, the day was only half over and we needed to rest up for the evening!

Horses...Did she say horses!







Sunday, April 23, 2006
In Which We Haunt The Ghost Bar.
It Didn't Stay In Vegas, Pt II

NOTE: New posts go at the top, as in most blogs, but that means that in a story like this, spread over several posts, you really need to find the first post in the series and read them in order. So, that's what I suggest you do here.

Kelsey got us a really nice suite at the Rio which, as she put it, is "almost on the strip." It's very near The Palms, which has the famous Ghost Bar. Ray and Gina went to the Bellagio, which is swankier, but the Rio is more festive and a lot more fun in my opinion.

Belle had decided to hang with Kelsey and me since she could always be with her uncle and Gina back in Detroit. The suite was gorgeous and had a huge bed. The three of us were all bushed from the wine and from the sex and we therefor didn't have the inclination for anything but recuperation. We rested and slept with the TV going, all tangled up with each other.

At 6 p.m., we all got into the shower, which was as big as the entire bathroom in my apartment at home! And, yes we did have a little fun in there. I could see that Kelsey lusted after Belle, too, and, like me, couldn't take her eyes off Belle's fantastic legs.

Kelsey also thinks the Rio has the best buffet in town, and after having dinner there the first night, I must say it lived up to her enthusiastic billing. I can't say it's the best in Vegas, but it's certainly far better than any buffet I know of in Ohio. The days of the $1.99 buffet or the $4.99 prime rib and shrimp buffet our parents may remember from Vegas are pretty much gone. This buffet cost us about as much as a meal in a nice Red Lobster or Tony Roma's in Ohio, but with much more variety.

Ray is known as a "whale," and had connections at The Palms, and so we all got into the Ghost Bar that night, which I understand may be the hardest nightclub to get into in Vegas, as well as the trendiest.

I went in a kind of schoolgirl getup with no bra and my white button-up-the-front blouse tied at the bottom. My skirt was a green plaid deal only long enough to cover my ass cheeks, and I wore white stockings that came up just over my knee along with my black patent-leather Mary Janes. Underneath the skirt I had on my skimpiest white undies consisting entirely of spaghetti cord except for a tiny triangular patch of lace to cover my little pubic stripe.

Kelsey, who's about 6 feet tall and has legs up to her armpits wore a colorful green print dress that came halfway down her thighs, which in her case still left plenty of leg exposed. She also wore pink shoes (picking up one of the colors in her dress). Her lace undies matched her shoes. She looked FABulous, as always.

Now we come to Belle who blew us both out of the water when she stepped out of the bathroom wearing one of those silk Chinese gowns, like the ones I'd drooled over while watching Wong Kar-wai's movie, In The Mood For Love. Red with bamboo and multicolored birds woven into the fabric. Metallic gold piping running all around the edges. A slit up one side allowed one of those gorgeous gams of hers to hang halfway out while she walked. The slit went so far up the side that if she was wearing any underwear at all, it wasn't evident. Her black hair was now in tight little curls all around her face. She was...stunning.

By the way, I did find a photo giving you some idea what Belle's dress looked like, though it's the wrong color, of course:

I wanted to tear Belle's clothing off and forget all about the Ghost Bar but, unfortunately, she didn't. And neither did Kelsey, who despite her incredible body hadn't managed to get into the Ghost Bar on two prior occasions, pissing her off no end.

So, we met up with Ray's limo and rode with him and Gina to The Palms, which would have been an easy walk. However, we wanted to go in with Ray just to make sure. Gina was wearing a diaphanous black top with Chinese red hotpants and matching red pumps with 4" heels, which on her tiny frame was much like 6" heels would be on me.

The Ghost Bar is just incredible. Gina gave us a little tour, showing where to go to see the Las Vegas Strip. We could also see the Rio, about hal fway between us and The Strip. Ray had obtained a private room for us, but didn't want to spend any time there...just yet.

After a couple drinks at the bar, we had a little buzz on. Gina left us to our ways and went off to find Ray, who was most likely networking with other power players and wanted her back at his side which, after all, he was paying for.

I had expected the music at the Ghost Bar to be electronica, but it turned out to be rock and hip-hop for the most part, with a splash of 80's hits. Not music I'd ordinarily tune in on my car radio, but between the booze and the ambiance, I was soon dancing with total abandon. After dancing as a threesome for a few minutes, finally some guys cut in and we started looking for our guys for the night.

Before long Kelsey had attracted a gorgeous and tall black dude a good six inches taller than her 6 feet and Belle was dancing with an athletic-looking guy about 40 (almost twice her age!) who turned out to be a surgeon. I had attracted a pair of Asian twins, about 20 years old, who told me they attended a university (which I shall not name) in Southern California, where they were stars on the gymnastics squad, and from the grace and athleticism of not just their dancing but the way they carried themselves, I had no reason to doubt them.

Sometime after midnight, we retired back to the private room. Kelsey leaned back against a table and Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome started kissing her, pressing his pelvis into her as he straddled one of her incredibly long legs.

Belle's doctor had settled into one of the plush chairs and was sitting across his lap, one of those extravagantly shapely legs of hers hanging of the slit in her dress. Enough of her was out of the dress for me to be sure: she wasn't wearing any panties. Suddenly, in mine composed of spaghetti straps and a minuscule triangle of lace, I felt overdressed. They were engaging sexy talk, it seemed, because nothing really significant physically had started just yet.

The two Asian guys took me over to the couch, and we sat down with me in the middle. I kissed first one then the other, being sure to put my hand way up on their thigh each time, high enough to be sure that both guys were indeed "anatomically correct."

The one to my right let his hand slide up and down my leg slowly as he kissed my neck. The other had found the knot in my shirt and was deftly undoing it. This accomplished, his hand was all over my tummy and tits, and I could feel things going on down in my pussy. Good things.

I glanced over to Belle's chair to find that her silken dress was in a pile on the floor and she was astride his legs, sitting on his knees. It looked like she was letting him suck on her tits. If I didn't have two hot guys to play with, I might have been jealous of the guy. Oh well, I'd have more opportunities with Belle, and clearly she liked sex, and plenty of it, so I wasn't particularly worried.

Kelsey hadn't wasted much time, either. She was on her knees in front of the tall guy, who had switched places with her and was now the one standing up while leaning back against the table, his pants down at his ankles. She was deep throating him, but even so a good six inches of cock never made it into her mouth! Fuck! The guy must have had a good 14 inches!!! He was swingin' some pretty furious pipe!

I decided I really needed to get the ball rolling so I said, "Lets get rid of the panties, why don't we?" And with that I slid forward and lifted my feet up. One of the boys politely lifted my panties off. The other one got up and pushed my legs back. I cooperated by getting my feet behind my head with the ankles crossed. I'm quite contortionistic, and this position isn't even very uncomfortable for me.

This posture made a lot of me available, and these boys weren't about to let an opportunity pass. Soon, one of them was propped up on one elbow under me, probing my asshole with his finger and tongue. The other one leaned over him, slurping on my already sopping-wet pussy like there was no tomorrow.

I saw that Belle was making progress. Mr. Doctor was standing up and she was teasing his erection with her tongue by deftly stroking the underside of his glans with her tongue for a while, then blowing him for a while, then teasing again. And to show she wasn't doing this as a favor but was have fun she was three-fingering her pussy and pussy drool was streaming down both of her inner thighs.

My pussy licker stood up and stepped out of his trousers and bikini briefs. Up popped a creditable cock. Noting like the one Kelsey's guy was brandishing, but a good eight or nine inches, and he tip had a little smear of precum on it, which I would have wanted to lick off, except that before I know it he was deep in my pussy and humping away on me while his brother under him continued to pay attention to my asshole.

As for me, I was in goddamn fucking Heaven, all goosebumpy and trying to fight off a too-early orgasm.

So, I looked around to see what the other girls were doing. Kelsey's guy was laying on his back with her on top of him, also facing up. It was then I noticed that Kelsey, who's not that fond of anal, had let this guy stick his rather seriously huge member deep into her ass, and I almost laughed at the expression on her face which hovered somewhere between the ubiquitous Happy Face and Edvard Munch's "The Scream." He was plunging a good eight inches of his rather girthy cock in and out of her just like the piston of an old steam locomotive. She was obviously in severe pain and enjoying every minute of it!

Told both of the guys to let get up. I stood up, then dropped to my knees. At the same time, the one who'd bee attending to my asshole stepped out of his trousers and briefs as well. Meanwhile, I'd been blowing his brother, but as soon as he was ready, I blew him as well, taking both of their cocks into my mouth, while fondling their balls. I love testicles, with their unique sandpapery texture and their ability to sometimes hang low and sometimes retreat into the guy's body. What controls this is a mystery to me and, I think, to science as well, except that cold water seems to put them into retreat. Or so it seems.

I was catching glimpses of Belle from behind. The doctor had slumped back into the chair, his butt almost hanging off the front, and she was riding him cowgirl style, moving her hips up and down on his firm and thickly-veined cock. In this position, I could clearly see her asshole, which is one of those rare ones that's actually beautiful to behold. Totally hairless, with skin the same color as the skin surrounding it. It was a perfectly-shaped star, and sometimes it opened up as if to let you look inside to discover that her rectum was just as beautiful and clean-looking.

I stopped stroking the boys' balls and started playing with my vulva while I sucked them off, meanwhile increasing the intensity of my mouthwork until first one and then the other filled my mouth with cum.

After they came, they slumped to the floor on their backs, their dicks growing softer and shorter by the moment. I tenderly crawled first to one, then the other, kissing them and depositing half the sperm in each one's mouth as I did so.

Belle saw that I was done and with a slight tip of her head and a raised eyebrow invited me to join in. She was still doing cowgirl, but I dropped to my knees just behind her and she lifted her butt up enough to let the doctor's cock drop out of her pussy. I blew him for about thirty seconds and then helped his cock back into her vagina. While she fucked him, I stuck my tongue out and into the groove between her ass cheeks, making it nice and wet. The next time she let his cock drop out of her pussy, instead of blowing him I jacked him off and used my tongue to probe her asshole. She moaned, he moaned.

She asked the doctor, "Why don't we play with Jill for a while?" He looked me over and said, "Ah, the schoolgirl. Why sure!" She pulled him off the chair, got onto the back of the chair, legs way apart, one foot on each of the padded arms, and indicated that I should get into a doggy position and lick her pussy. In this position, his role was clearly to stand and fuck me like a dog from behind.

And so, there we were, me eating Belle's pussy and the doctor having my snatch from behind when up comes an ungodly wail. I turn and look over my shoulder just as Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome geysers cum halfway to the ceiling, he just having pulled out of Kelsey's gaping and nearly prolapsed asshole. While some of his jizz ended up on the floor, most of it ended up on Kelsey's belly and tits. He rolled off to one side, depositing her on the floor.

I had to admire him, though. After all that work and with hormones coursing through his veins telling him to roll over and rest, he didn't neglect her and immediately started giving her some rather fearsome head, which, judging by her oohs and ahhs, pleased her a lot. And when she came, she came hard. "I'm squirting...I'm squirting" she yelped as she came, applauding herself at the same time because while I squirt rather readily, this was her very first time! Her partner was surprised by this and rolled off to one side, laughing heartily.

The Doctor decided to finish himself off so he picked up the pace of his humping and I soon felt the hot splash of his release go up my back. Belle reached over me and scooped most of it up. I then saw her lick it off her fingers one by one.

So, let's see now: everyone present had come except me and Belle. I proposed 69 on the side, so we got into the 69 position while laying on our sides, resting our heads on the inside of each other's thighs, and then we started licking.

The two Asian twins came over, one behind me and one behind Belle, caressing our bodies and playing with our tits. It was all very gentle and nice. Soon both Belle and I had had a nice quiet orgasm. Sometimes that kind of orgasm is more exquisite than the more explosive kind.

At some point, Ray and Gina had returned and had gotten into the spoon position. He hadn't even taken his trousers off and her hotpants were just far enough down her butt to give him entry. She looked so peaceful, using his arm as a pillow for her head. She just liked the feel of him inside. In some ways, even though she was being paid for sex, they were so used to each other and so relaxed that they were more a couple than any of the rest of us.

With a low moan, Gina came. Ray picked up the pace and in less than a minute he was done, too.

It was now nearly 2 a.m. and we were all totally worn out. After saying good-bye to our new friends, we all packed back into the limo and Ray and Gina dropped Kelsey, Belle, and me back at the Rio. Kelsey had exchanged phone numbers with Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome. Belle and I had declined to the great disappointment of our respective partners. Belle isn't looking for a relationship at this time and of course I have an arrangement with Erik that precludes ongoing relationships with other males.

After a quick group shower and some minor fooling around while soaping each other up, we hopped into bed and got a good, sound night's sleep.




Saturday, April 8, 2006
In Which Promotion Leads To Adventure.
It Didn't Stay In Vegas, Pt I

Well, good news. Kelsey, my boss, got promoted to department head and I moved up a notch or two at the same time. I'm bringing in $300+ more per week now and I have my own office between her office and the hallway on the top floor.

Her office has a lock on the door and a "Do Not Disturb" sign I can put up whenever she wants me to take notes, or go over reports, or stick her tongue up my ass. Don't think it's just one way. Sometimes I'll go in after hanging the sign on the door and let her know I want to have her go down on me.

Anyway, after getting settled in, to celebrate her promotion, she decided to take me on a trip to Las Vegas. By coincidence, my friend Gina wanted to visit that weekend and was going to fly into Cleveland on a customer's private jet. As you may recall, Gina is a former schoolmate, now going to school in Detroit, who does high-end escorting on the side. Her #1 customer, Ray, is a very rich and handsome guy who made a fortune by running an executive airline taking execs all around the country in private jets.

If you want more background, maybe you should read "And to think I got paid for doing this!" (Thursday, August 04, 2005).

When I demured and told her of my prior commitment, she said, "Hey, why don't Ray and I come down and pick you up and we'll all go together?!!" I agreed that that sounded like fun. I told her to check into it with Ray while I broached the subject with Kelsey. I had told Kelsey about my one night as an escort service girl in Detroit and she thought it was as hoot, so I knew she would think it was a great idea. I'm sure she wanted to meet Ray, too.

As it turned out, Ray was up for it as well. Kelsey picked me up early that Thursday and drove us to the small local airport where Gina and Ray were waiting. This was his personal jet, not a company jet, and it was really rigged out. Wood paneling, rich carpets, paintings, full bar, seats that convert to beds, and it even had a bedroom.

We even had our own flight attendant, a beautiful young girl in a snappy uniform. Normally, I either think that uniforms are silly or they make me horny, and this one was making me horny. Well, actually the whole situation was making me horny because everyone there I'd already had exciting sex with, or, as in this cute flight attendant's case, I wanted to.

This chick had a round freckly face framed in black hair coifed in a short hairdo that reminded me a bit of Betty Boop, but not in a funny way. This girl was hot! She had a happy smiling demeanor, and, I must say, the greatest pair of legs I've ever seen in person. She compares favorably with the classics in the leg department: Marilyn Monroe, Betty Page, and the rest. She wore dark stockings and blunt-toed red pumps with just enough heel to bring out the best shape of her calf.

As you might have guessed, her uniform was also red. Chinese red. Red wool jacket and skirt with a black silk blouse buttoned all the way to the top.

Her name was Belinda, but she asked us to call her Belle, which is how I'll refer to her from now on. Gina was sitting across from me and while Belle was pouring drinks for us at the bar, Gina looked at me knowing me and said under her breath, "I knew you'd like her." "Does she..." "Oh, yes," said Gina.

Cool!

Belle had poured us each a glass of wine which was heavenly. Later on, I looked at the bottle reminded myself to look it up when I got home. It was Alter Ego de Chateau Palmer, 2000, and I found it online at $277 a bottle. But I suppose it's cheaper by the case, and I would assume Ray had bought a case (or cases) of the stuff. He can certainly afford it.

I could see that Kelsey was eyeing Ray. But of course she was eyeing Gina and Belle as well.

About an hour into the flight, Gina got up and wandered over to Ray, who had been sitting in a swivel chair that allowed him to look at all the females. I could almost hear his large member swelling inside those $500 trousers as she lightly deposited herself sideways across his lap, putting one arm around his neck as she kissed him. Not minding those present, his hands automatically went to her tiny breasts, and then down to between her legs.

Gina and I had discussed the fact that, per my agreement with my partner, Erik, I couldn't fuck Ray again, and she said that she knew that would disappoint him. She had seen photos of Kelsey, though, and knew that Kelsey's sexual appetite was much like mine, so she thought bringing Kelsey along might make up for my inability to get involved with him again.

Ray and Gina got up and, hand in hand, headed into the bedroom. The door closed behind them. After a few seconds, it opened again and Gina said, "Kelsey, will you join us?" With a lascivious grin, Kelsey looked first at me and then at Gina and said, "Certainly."

This left me and Belle alone and without losing a beat, Belle asked, "Is there anything I can do for you?" Feeling a little abandoned in my horniness, I said "What are my options?"

"Ray said you were to be pleased. I'm here to serve you. I'm my own person, though, so you needn't worry that you might have me doing something I find offensive and wouldn't do otherwise. I know how to say no."

"Well, then, take off your skirt." She complied, unzipping it in the back and slowly dropping it to the floor. This girl was a natural stripper!.

Her uniform continued into the lingerie, which included a very expensive red-on-black lace garterbelt outfit. This is that heavy lace where outlines are done thick with fine lace patterns inside.

This chick had a lower body most girls would kill to have. The legs were shapely, as I'd mentioned, but she also had an ass that (to borrow an expression I've heard Erik use) was "shaped like two basketballs pressed together."

"Make yourself comfortable," she said, adding when she saw me pull my skirt up so that I could masturbate, "you can take your panties off." As I did so, I played along saying, "Why don't you do so as well?" And so, off came the panties.

So, here she is naked from the waist down, except for her garterbelt and shoes. She had done so with her back to me, but now she turned around to reveal a nice 2 inch wide landing strip. She had left the hair thick and so it was very black, just like her naturally black hair.

Without being asked, she sat on my lap and started kissing me, sticking her tongue deep into my mouth. As she did so, I found her buttons and one by one undid them. I stopped and looked down to find that her bra did indeed match the panties and was of the sort that unhooked in the front. I unhooked it and discovered the finest pair of B cup boobs. I rolled her nipples in my fingers and we kissed some more as she unbuttoned my blouse and played with my nipples.

"Would you like to get undressed?" she asked? I thought this was a good idea and said so.

She got up and let me get out of what remained of my clothes. I left my thigh-highs and shoes on.

Now, the seats on this jet aren't like on your typical passenger jet. They are pairs of seats all on one side of the plane (the exception being Ray's captain's chair, of course). They are wide enough and spaced far enough apart to allow you to do almost anything you might do on your living room couch!

She sat down next to me, pushed the armrest between our seats back, turning the two seats into one seat. We sat down together, side by side, and she continued to kiss me, but this time her hands were between my legs. She found my clit and massaged it nicely until I got the chills all over.

Then she got a couple fingers into my pussy and quickly found my G-spot, which she worked quite expertly.

Here's a little aside: Once I had a guy who thought he knew all about the female body tell me that "It's all in the clit. The pussy is nothing when it comes to female pleasure." I know that back in the 50's and 60's ignorant men knew nothing about the clit and so a lot of energy was spent informing them about this important part of female anatomy, but, boys, pussies feel good when you know what to do with them, which can involve a lot more than sticking a penis inside. And this is not to say that having a penis inside feels bad at all. I know I like a penis in my pussy (...and in my ass...and in my mouth). Okay, enough on that.

Belle was driving me nuts and soon had me cumming and cumming and cumming, and she hadn't even gone down on me!

She smiled at me as I recovered and caught my breath. I could hear laughing from the bedroom. Apparently I'd been screaming so loud they could hear me in there. Gina's voice said, "Everything okay out there" and I could hear them all laughing, so I knew the question was in jest. "Just fine!" I replied.

Belle was smiling at me, happy with herself for doing such good work.

"I owe you one," I said. "But no," she replied. "I'm yours. You don't owe me anything, but if you want to play with me, that's what I'm here for." She nuzzled her nose against my neck adding "I hear you like anal play." Gina must have spilled the beans.

When I agreed that yes, indeed, I did, she got up and straddled in front of me facing away. She then slowly let her hands slide down first her thighs, then her knees, then her calves, until she grasped her ankles and smiled up at me. This revealed the most gorgeous asshole. You know how some are dark and a different color than the surrounding skin? Hers was the other kind, where the asshole matches the surrounding skin. It was spotless, but she added "I'm clean. I knew you might want to play so I made sure to be very clean." Nice to know.

Putting one hand around each of her thighs, I tasted her pussy, she moaned with pleasure as I did so. Now and then I could feel her something touch my chin. She was playing with her clit while I licked. The mild musky smell of her asshole was making me hot again, and so I let my tongue wander up the groove to her asshole, which was as clean as she said it was, even when I stuck my tongue in as deep as I possibly could. So deep that my tongue ached.

"Get in the doggy position," I requested, and of course she complied with total obedience, getting into the lowest doggy position, with her ass high and her cheek, shoulders and tits on the floor.

I continued kissing her pussy and ass while masturbating.

"Would you like a toy?" she asked. "You have some?" I asked. She looked at me as if to say, "Are you serious?" but all she said was "Of course! We have everything!"

Getting up she opened up a cabinet I didn't even realize was there, because it was behind a wood panel and was only opened via a secret button hidden in a drawer.

"Whatever you want," she said. I pointed to a knobby, curved glass dildo.

"Good choice!" she said. "You are going to use it on my ass, aren't you? Please do!" "Exactly what I had in mind," I said.

She brought it over along with a small bottle of lube. She lubricated it for me and lubricated her sphincter and then, giving me a lurid smile, got back into the doggy position.

This was a fairly big toy, maybe an inch and a quarter to an inch and a half with half-spherical knobs positioned randomly all over it. Even so, it slid right in and. "You can go deeper," she said, and pumping it gently, I let it slide in further bit by bit until I was only holding on to the last two inches or so, a bulbous knob. I worked it harder and harder and she apparently enjoyed it more and more, masturbating all the time. At last she came. She came quietly, but the way she relaxed and the little puddle that had squirted out of her was the evidence.

I slowly pulled it out and rolled her onto her back and kissed her some more until she was calm and basking in the afterglow. "Are you happy?" she asked. "Very," I said, adding "You're the best flight attendant I've ever met." "Why thank you," she replied. "And you are the kind of customer it's a pleasure to serve."

We got dressed, tidied up together in the restroom, chit-chatted until the other three emerged from the bedroom. From the look on Kelsey's face, I could tell that she had been having some fun as well.

We drank a few more glasses of wine and were rather tipsy as we debarked the plane at McCarran International Airport.

On the way to the waiting limo, Ray scooted up next to me and asked, "Do you like Belle?" "I sure do," I said, adding "any chance she can come along with us over the weekend?"

"And besides," he said with a smile, "this trip is as much for her as for anyone." "Why is that?" "She just turned 21, she's old enough to go into the casinos and gamble now, and..."

I had to wait until we both were inside and seated to hear the rest, which was "...she's my niece."




Tuesday, March 28, 2006
Two working stiffs

I had to go into Cleveland to pick up some supplies that couldn't be delivered. (Well, actually, I arranged to go into Portland to get out of the office for a while. Kelsey, my boss, has been out with the flu for nearly a week, and she's my best friend at work. We provide each other with a lot of entertainment and without her around, it's been so booorrrriiing!)

I also grabbed Stew, he's a student at the Cleveland Institute of Art who is—I'm not really sure—either an intern or a temp working in the stockroom. At any rate, he's about 5'10", cute, and very bright. Not that he talks much, but when he does, it's always a smart, incisive contribution.

He's a good-looking guy who might almost be mistaken for a skinhead except for his kind eyes and the fact that his conversation is frequently punctuated with smiles.

So I collected Stew from the back and we walked out to my car. He looked at the invoice and told me, "These things come in long rolls in even longer boxes." He looked at my sedan and said, "We'll go in mine." I promised him company mileage and we headed toward the back of the lot where his was parked.

His vehicle turned out to be a van. The classic love machine with front seats only and the back all carpeted in thick red pile. Unlike most, however, this one was decorated with some of Stew's photos. They were stunning infrared studies of nude men and women engaging in sex. What was so fascinating about them was the color distortion. Excited parts of their bodies glowed and the semen was absolutely white.

I told him how great his work was and he thanked me in his polite way. We talked music on the way. My tastes are rather broad. Not many people my age like jazz. My personal faves range from Dexter Gordon (I could write a book on the arpeggio he uses to open "You've Changed") to Baden Powell (despite the European-sounding name, one of the most Brazilian of musicians and a totally unique guitarist). Finally, there's no better music to make sweet, quiet love to than Stan Getz and Charlie Byrd.

Turns out he knew all these musicians. Not just the names, but had favorite tunes that I agreed with sometimes and sometimes not. He even had some recommendations of other musicians I might enjoy, and since then I've followed up on them and discovered some new musical pleasures.

But I digress...

We drove down into The Flats. Now, if you're not from the Cleveland/Northern Ohio area, where this colorful word is part of everyday life, it must sound very strange. The Cuyahoga River Valley near its mouth in Lake Erie has a wide, flat area that's mostly industrial, but also has some nightlife and residential properties. It's an interesting area. Here's a pic (it's clickable if you want to read a Wikipedia entry).

The Flats can be hard to navigate, and it took a little while to find the warehouse we were looking for. It was sandwiched between an abandoned ore loading facility and a much larger warehouse devoted to truck parts.

Of course, we might have found it sooner had I not been showing so much leg. I'm afraid I let my skirt ride up far enough to reveal that my black stockings were held up by garters.

When we got there, Stew took command, jumping out of the car and headed toward the small door next to the loading dock. I figured I'd better follow, since I was holding the paperwork. Most of the warehouses I've been to since starting my current job are almost cleaner and tidier than the office I work in. This one was anything but!

On seeing the scene, I was even happier I'd brought Stew along because this warehouse was anything but spic and span and I was wearing a white cotton blouse, a brand new (and very tight-fitting) stretchy black skirt, and a pair of very good patent leather Mary Janes.

We waited for a minute before Stew yelled "Anybody here?!!!"

"Coming" came a distant voice from the back. While this warehouse seemed small next to its neighbors, like Dr. Who's Tardis it seemed much bigger on the inside than could be possible when viewed from the outside.

I heard barely perceptible footfalls, which got louder and louder, until a young man emerged from between some shelves. "Stew," he called. "Peter!" Stew replied in obvious recognition.

This guy was about 6'2" tall and skinny as a rail. After greeting each other, Stew introduced me to Peter. I was sitting on the corner of a desk showing lots of leg and the tops of my stockings, just like in the van. Peter looked me up and down and looked at Stew with a "lucky you" expression on his face. Stew shrugged, took the invoice out of my hand, and said "We're here to pick this up."

Collecting the goods took 20 or 30 minutes, during which I sat in the office and looked through a stack of magazines, which included a mess of Field & Stream's, some truck parts catalogs, a knife magazine, and a Hustler.

Reading the Hustler was making me hot! (Oh, come on: you didn't really think I would read anything else in that stack, did you?) Looking at all that manicured pussy and all that beautiful thick-veined cock...well, I put the magazine down and stood up for fear of spotting myself.

Luckily, the boys were finished loading. I looked at my watch and suggested to Stew that we go to lunch. I added "Peter can come along if you like." Both he and Peter seemed pleased with that idea. Peter suggested a nearby trucker's cafe and we walked a distance of about three blocks with Peter talking mostly to me, asking me questions spurred on by Stew's revelations about my taste in music.

Peter, it turns out, is very into electronica. As I said earlier, my tastes are eclectic, and I know quite a bit about electronica as well. So, we talked about Orbital and Electric Skychurch, Moby and Fatboy Slim, with deviations into NIN and Ministry territory as well.

We got some sandwiches and, at Peter's suggestion, brought them back to the warehouse. Leading us through the office, we ended up in a rather dismal lunchroom with a few vending machines. We got some drinks and a couple bags of chips from the machines and continued our conversation.

Goddamn, I wanted a fuck so bad. In fact, I wanted some DP, which I hadn't had in a while and which is totally the best. Much as I love making love to girls, there are just some things you need guys for.

I wasn't sure how to get them started. Then an avenue came to mind. I turned the topic to Peter's infrareds and volunteered that it'd be exciting to pose for that sort of stuff.

I could tell the guys were getting hot.

"Do you think I have the body for it?" I asked.

I'm not sure Stew knew what was going on, but Peter sure did, saying it was hard to tell with my clothes on. I said, "Well, that's easy to fix. I imagine both of you guys have taken anatomy and done some life drawing, right?" They nodded their heads. "Then, this shouldn't be too shocking."

I stood up across the room in front of the vending machines and slowly unbuttoned my blouse, pulling it out my skirt. My skirt had an elastic top, so I slowly pulled it down over my ass (and of course I was turned so they could see my ass as I did so). I pulled the skirt down, bending my knees a bit as I did so, finally stepping out of it.

I walked over and hung these items over the back of a chair between the guys.

"Would I do?" I asked. It looked like Stew was getting ready to answer when Peter stepped in to say, "Well, now really. I think we need to see just a bit more." I was expecting this.

So I walked back to the vending machines and continued the strip. By now, I was hamming it up a bit, acting like a real stripper. So, I slowly took off my bra. Now, my boobs aren't huge, big, or even medium-sized. In fact, they're a bit on the small side, but I think I have superb nipples and I've never had any complaints.

I think both of the guys were pleased, too, from the expressions on their faces.

Now, the "right" way to wear a garter belt is over your undies. For a slut like me, though, this can be pretty inconvenient. So, I wear my panties over my garter belt. This allows me to take my panties off without unhooking my bra. So...I slowly dropped my panties and stepped out of them. Once again, I hung them over the back of the chair and went back in front of the vending machines.

As I slowly turned around, I was surprised that it was Stew who said, "Jill, this isn't about auditioning as a model, is it?"

"Hey, you're quick," I said with what must have seemed a wicked leer.

Pulling the chair between them off to one side, I went back and sat on the table, scooting back and dropping onto my elbows with my legs way apart, saying "Let's dance!" Peter pulled his fly down and out popped a substantial cock in full erection.

"Standby" I said to Stew. "I want you both at the same time. Come here."

by this time, Peter had located my sopping-wet pussy and was (as they say) "in like Flynn." Wow, he really knew how to bang a chick! "You've done this before," I quipped. He winked at me.

I called Stew over. He'd been playing with his dick, but I thought I might do a better job. I suggested we move over to the corner of the table, and we did so. This allowed me to turn sideways where I could take Stew's cock into my mouth.

Some cocks just taste good, and Stew's was one of those. In the position I was in, I couldn't make much use of my hands, so I instructed Stew to fuck my mouth, which he gladly did.

Did I mention that when we moved to the corner, Peter switched holes and started fucking my ass. Of course, the fact that I'd pulled my knees up to my tits may have functioned as a suggestion. Goddamn, it was good. Peter even massaged my clit as he did so and my God I thought I'd explode!

Then, I realized we had a problem. While Peter was tall enough to fuck me on the table. This was a folding table and trying to fuck two guys at once (one in each of my crotch holes, in case you're not following me) was likely to turn into a disaster.

I pointed this out and Stew suggested his van. Peter found a shop coat for me and we all ran out to the van. A truck pulled up to the dock as we got into the van as the truck driver watched in puzzlement.

Soon the van was rocking as I continued sucking Stew's cock while Peter stood astride my bottom rogering my asshole with vigor, resting the weight of his upper body on my shoulders.

"It's time," I said. Stew got onto his back, and I laid on him, my back against his stomach. I felt his cock re-enter my asshole, which was good enough, but when stew's cock slid into my pussy...WOW! I was soon cumming and cumming and cumming, my pussy drooling all over my ass and Peter's cock.

Peter came in my ass. I could tell because the friction had decreased considerably and he slid out, rolling off to the side.

I asked Stew if he'd like to cum in mouth, and he allowed as that sounded pretty good. He squatted on my chest with his cock laying on my lips. I tongued and licked it until it got very stiff. He slid forward a bit, dropped forward onto his hands, and let me go at it.

Peter by now was on my pussy with his mouth, and he could lick as well as he could fuck. Between the flood of semen in my mouth from Stew and Peter's vigorous oral attentions, I was cumming all over again.

I was weak and I could have walked, but Peter helped me back into my coat. As Stew put his pants back on I heard him say, "We had an audience." The truck driver was looking at us through Stew's windshield. As I turned my head, I saw this chubby old guy giving us all a big thumb's up.

Even though I could walk, Peter gathered me up like one of the packages he hanled every day and carried me back to the lunchroom, where we all laughed and joked while I put my clothing back on.

I went to the ladies room (which looked like it was seldom or ever used) and I determined that I looked fabulous, with a little added bloom on my cheek, as my maternal grandmother would have said.

On the way back to work, I told Stew pointedly that it never happened.

He understood.




Some new hot chicks from MET-Art

As long as they keep sending them to me, I'll keep on passing them along to you. There are some seriously fuckable babes in this group. I've picked out a few hotties I really llike.




Friday, March 17, 2006
The big fuckup

This week was disrupted by a sales meeting that brought our sales reps in from all over the country. I hate to admit a prejudice, but by and large I really don't much like salespeople. They tend to be boors, they brag and slap people on the back, and seem to have sub-normal IQ's.

So Kelsey and I were chosen to oversee the mass lunches (they breakfasted and dinnered on the company tab in the restaurant at the hotel we had taken over for this event). We arranged for a buffet with a choice of ham, roast beef, or barbecued chicken quarters, all with a cornucopia of side dishes, salad fixings, and desserts.

For Kelsey and me the low point was when they announced the retirement of our department head, Melvin, and announced that he would be replaced by Herb, who had been the Sales Manager for the Midwest Region. He had a reputation for being a bully and a misogynist. No fun at all.

While Kelsey and I weren't particularly close to Melvin, he at least took a hands-off approach and as long as you did your job, he left you alone. And when an employee's performance was inadequate, generally he took a humane approach to find out what the problem was and fix it. Herb could be expected to be pretty much the opposite of Melvin.

To make matters worse, he had a "thing" for Kelsey. Remember (If you've been following my stories), that Kelsey is one of those tall, slender model types with a somewhat-larger-than-you-might-expect rack. She's hot. Every time he visits our office, he flirts with her, which of course disgusts her no end, not least of all for the fact that he has a very sweet wife who is totally unaware of his wandering eye and a pair of twin girls, now about eight or nine.

Herb had slipped Kelsey a note asking if she would come by after work, with me, to discuss changes he planned for our department. We were facing one of the rooms of Hell if we didn't do something. So, I formulated a plan which Kelsey thought brilliant...

After the meeting and after dinner we went to his room and knocked on his door. He opened the door and we walked in. He was wearing a white silk shirt unbuttoned down to his belly button and faux leather pants. It was all we could do to keep from laughing out loud, but we did our best.

He invited us to sit on either side of him on the couch while he spread some papers out on the suite's coffee table. Soon, his hands were on our knees and his language was getting increasingly inappropriate as he referred to our bodies and how much he'd like to do this and that.

At last, Kelsey asked him point blank, "What would you like to do with us? You could have met with us on company time, but instead you had us come up here after hours."

His reply was, "Well, you guys are the company foxes, no doubt about it. I thought we could do a little 'You scratch mine and I'll scratch yours.'" "Or what?" Kelsey asked. "Or your careers could get stalled...or worse," he said.

Kelsey looked at me and said, "Well, Jill, it looks like we'll have no choice but to make Herb happy." "Looks that way," I agreed.

Kelsey kind of slid forward on the couch, putting her butt right on the edge and more or less laying on her back as if to say, "Do what you will."

I unzipped his ridiculous pants and got his stub of a cock out and licked it a bit, but he was paying most of his attention to Kelsey. He had soon unbuttoned her top and was fondling her tits through the fabric of her sheer bra (Kelsey's breasts are firm and don't need a bra for shape or support.)

Soon her top was off, as was her bra, and he was sucking on her tits. From the position of his body, I could no longer blow him, so I just rubbed his cock while he went at her.

After a bit, he stood up and stepped out of his pants and underwear. He then had Kelsey blow him. I turned my attentions to her, rubbing her thigh and fondling her boobs while she tried to pretend that she was having the sexual experience of a lifetime.

Then he had a brilliant idea that wasn't part of my plan but we went with it. He wanted Kelsey to have sex with me while he photographed us. Kelsey and I have the hots for each other anyway, and grab a little sex whenever we can, so this was no problem.

As I reclined on the couch, Kelsey crawled in between my legs and slowly licked and sucked attentively. Then she did the same thing from the other side.

This done, she got busy tongue-caressing my labia for a minute or two. She then stuck two fingers into my pussy and wetted them, and as she went back to mouthing my pussy, I felt those wet fingers slowly edge their way into my asshole. A shiver went up and down my spine, because I just love anal penetration, and she knows it!

Between finger-fucking my ass and redoubling the intensity of her cunnilingus, she made me desperate to cum, which I did with a powerful series of squirts.

Not wanting to give Herb a chance to inject himself into the situation, I stood up and dragged Kelsey with me. We walked over to a bare patch of wall. I pushed Kelsey into it, pulled on her hips out toward me so that her body was arched with her pelvis way forward. I then worked myself in between her legs, forcing her to take a wide stance.

This posture allowed me to lick and suck her clit while reaching around her thighs to hold her butt cheeks. Gradually, I let my fingers slide between her cheeks and I probed her asshole as I licked. Soon, pussy juice was running down her thigh, mixed with my saliva.

After a while, I invited her to sit on my face. I got onto my back and she straddled my head, working her hips front and back while I remained relatively stationary. She was really enjoying herself, but she tired after a while and, without moving her knees, dropped back onto first her hands, then her elbows. This rotated her pelvis which allowed me to lift my head and lick her ever more fiercely.

Just about the time my neck was ready to give out, she came...and came big. With a big screech and a series of whimpers, she rolled off to one side in a puddle of post-orgasmic jelly.

I could see that Herb was thinking it was his turn, so I said to Herb, "Herb, how about we all take a shower together? We're all sweaty. Go on in and get started. We'll be right in." "Oh, sure," he said, trotting into the capacious bathroom, where we could hear him start the water and get in.

"Coming?" he called. "We'll be right in," Kelsey called as we both quickly got dressed.

Soon he sensed something was amiss and he poked his sopping wet head out of the bathroom. "What's the problem?" he asked with annoyance.

Nothing Kelsey said as we put on our coats. "We're leaving, that's all!"

"If you do," he started, but then stopped as I opened up my purse to show him the video camera inside. I think he knew right away that my purse had been rigged to record the whole thing (thanks, Erik!). For her part, Kelsey held up the memory card she had removed from his digital camera.

She asked me, "Jill, I wonder if his wife would enjoy our little tape?" "I'm sure she would," I said over my shoulder as we left.

It was announced a couple days later that Herb had had second thoughts and wanted to keep his current job. Time will tell who takes Melvin's place.

Who knows? It might even be Kelsey!




Check Out This Errotica Chick

Errotica is yet another one of those sites offering super high-quality pics of gorgeous pussy-lickable European babes. Below are some samples from their latest hosted gallery. I like it because this chick gives you a full-on anal view and what a deliciously lickable asshole she has. Yeah...I'd do her if I had a chance! To view the gallery, click HERE.


Wednesday, March 8, 2006
The redhead helps me sleep

I have a thing for the nerdy guy. I guess it's 'cause I'm a smarty who's pretty well-informed and well-read. I like good conversation as much as good sex. ( Well, okay, maybe not quite as much, but I can sit down with a complete stranger and hit it off and find that two or three hours have passed.)

We have a new guy in the office. Rick. He's an intern in the Sales department and I have to "interface" with him several times a day. He kind of reminds me of that Napoleon Dynamite character. Not quite that goofy, but certainly not a guy who's much at home in human company. The fact that he's about 6'4" and skinny as a rail doesn't help him. Neither does that kinky white man's afro coif of his.

I've been kind of feeling sorry for him because I can see he wants to join in with the crew at break time, but he sits at another table reading, looking our way from time to time.

So, when I was off to lunch in a nearby restaurant one day, and Rick wandered in, as he was waiting to be seated I caught his eye and signaled to him to come over. He looked startled and did that thing you always see in the movies where the guy looks over his shoulder and, finding no one there, he points at his chest as if to say "You mean me?!"

I waved him over and he came to the table cautiously, wondering what the joke was. "What do you want?" he asked. "I'm just looking for some company. Want to sit with me?" "Umm... Okay," he said as he sat opposite me in the booth.

Now, let me digress a moment here. There is something unfair about the perception of redheads. Female redheads are regarded as hotties for the most part, from Ann-Margret in the 60's to Lindsay Lohan today, redheads are hot!

However, it's the opposite for males. Redheaded guys are almost automatically nerds or "weird." Even David Caruso, who is a TV and movie star qualifies as weird. At least I think so. He plays a CSI who thinks he can shoot people. I find that weird. But weirder than that is that way he talks with all those pregnant pauses and witty remarks that aren't really witty.

As usual, he had a book with him and it turned out to be The Alchemy of Mirrormask, a book about the making of the movie Mirrormask, probably my favorite movie of the last year or so. I was impressed.

The middle-aged chubby waitress came and took our orders. I got the blue cheese burger and he got the mushroom and swiss burger, both served with fries. I got the Diet Coke and he got a regular and we talked about Mirrormask and Dave McKean, the artist of Mirrormask and as he got comfortable he turned out to be quite the opinionated chatterbox.

I was getting hot.

We finished off and paid our bills separately and walked out. It was one of those days when the snow is melting off and there are piles of snow here and there but the pavement is mostly clear. The sky was overcast, though, and the wind was still.

We still had a while before we had to go back to work, so I invited Rick into my car.

As soon as he got in, I got into his face and gave him a tender kiss onthe lips. He was nervous. I wondered if he'd ever been with a girl. "I can stop if you want," I said. His head remained still, but looking first to one side then to the other he said, "No...don't stop." So, I kissed him again, with an open mouth this time. Our tongues squirmed like horny snakes in a mating frenzy. He was getting excited!

By now, my hand was exploring his crotch and finding his fly I opened it and reached inside to massage his cock. His hands finally found my boobs and were on my nipples, which by then were sensitive and very, very hard.

Since the windows were by now quite fogged and no one could possibly see inside, I helped him get his pants down past his knees and soon, instead of kissing his mouth, I was mouthing his cock.

It wasn't a large cock but it was cute and it was his cock and I liked him, so I licked it and jerked it and sucked it with my cheek resting on his vivid orange pubic hair. And of course as I did this, I had my hand under my skirt and into my panties, massaging my pussy and clit.

His cock was about as stiff as any cock I've ever sucked and he held his own while I worked hard to get him off. It took probably about 10 minutes, but at last my mouth filled with his warm and salty sperm. I never opened my mouth until I was sure he was done. Then I swallowed his load and made sure to lick him clean before depositing his penis back into his pants.

I sent him back to his car and we drove back to work separately. After that, we were friendly, but due to my agreement with my partner, Erik, I could never have sex with him again. I could tell that this hurt his feelings and that he would have preferred to pursue a relationship.

However, once he resigned himself that nothing would ever happen between us again, I noticed him being more social with the other girls in the company and I heard recently that he's been dating Amanda, the secretary in Sales.

Sometimes when Erik is traveling and I'm laying in bed at night and can't sleep, I'll remember the feeling of Rick's cock in my mouth and the flood of his semen and I'll come...and come...and come. And then I can sleep.




SapphicErotica's latest girls are here!

As usual, SapphicErotica puts out girl-on-girl sex photos and videos by the truckload. The fisting video is extremely hot. I don't think I could survive the full-length version (but I have to try!). Their girls are invariably cute and always seem to be having fun while having sex (imagine that!). Before the links to the latest goodies, I've picked out a few highlights from the photo sets, and you can click on any photo to go to their website, too.




Friday, March 3, 2006
The gangbang at the ski lodge

My boss, Kelsey, and I managed to get a Friday and Saturday to ourselves on our second trip to Portland before returning to Ohio. We managed to get a room up at Timberline Lodge on Mount Hood, which was about an hour's drive from the hotel we'd been staying at.

We rented a car and the attendant wanted to show us how to put on chains, but we told him, "Hey, we're from Ohio where it snows every winter...a lot." By this time we knew that our greatest enemy on our way to and from Timberline wouldn't be the snow and ice, it'd be drivers who aren't used to driving on snow and ice.

So, we headed on out past Gresham, past Sandy, past Rhododendron, and finally past Government Camp, the last settlement before the turnoff for the mountain. The higher we drove, the colder and snowier it got. There had been no snow on the ground back in Portland, but up here was plenty of snow.

We had chained up when we saw a highway sign telling us that chains were required to go further. We saw a bunch of college boys struggling with their chains, so Kelsey and I wandered over and asked them if they needed any help.

"No," said the leader of the bunch, who was laying flat on his back working behind a rear tire.

Kelsey and I laughed. She said, "Well, I think you do." "And why is that?" "For starters," I said, "I see only two chains and you're chaining up the back tires of a front drive car."

The other guys laughed along with us. The leader blushed and, finally laughing himself said, "Okay, you win. Show me." Kelsey picked up the chains and handed one to me. In about two minutes, we had them all chained up.

We sized the guys up: All about 18 or 19, all good looking in various ways. They were making us hot. A little chit-chat revealed they were on their way to Timberline as well, and planning on spending the weekend.

"Thanks a lot" said the leader of the bunch. "We're in your debt." "See you guys in the bar at 5:30, then? You can buy us drinks," I said. "Good move," Kelsey whispered, patting my ass. From the looks on the guys' faces, I could tell they were thinking, "Wow! We're not even up at the lodge yet and already we're getting lucky!." Little did they know how lucky they were going to be!

When we got to the lodge, it was familiar, because it was the lodge used for the exteriors of the lodge in Kubrick's The Shining. It was constructed in 1936-37 by unemployed artisans under the Works Progress Administration. Here's a picture of the lodge with the summit of Mt. Hood behind it.

The drive from the highway up to the lodge seemed interminable, and the weather got snowier as we went higher, but we found the lodge parking lot, and grabbing our suitcases and rented skis, we checked in. Our friend Pat (from our previous story) knew someone who knew someone at the lodge, and so we were able to grab a room from a cancellation. It was the best type of room: a fireplace room. This is a large corner room with a fireplace and all the amenities you'd expect in a luxury hotel. $250 a night, which was actually comparable to what we were paying in Portland. It pays to work for a prosperous company!

By 12:30 p.m. we were in the restaurant grabbing a bite, and by 1:30 we were on the slopes. We skied all afternoon and at 4:30 we were both recuperating on our beds in the hotel, somewhat sore from the afternoon activities. We ski quite a bit in Ohio and Pennsylvania, and the main difference in Oregon is that the mountain was taller and thus the slopes longer, which was good. It was a busy weekend, though, and we spent a lot of time waiting for lifts. More time waiting than skiing.

After a hot shower together, which of course involved considerable fooling around, Kelsey and I tidied up the room and got dressed for dinner. She in a dark brown dress and me in a little red dress that showed a lot of leg.

The boys were waiting for us and we had a lot of fun with them in the bar, being sure to touch them frequently in order to signal them that they could touch us, a hint they picked up on quickly. We were pretty chummy by the time that the leader, whose name was Mike, suggested that they also buy us dinner.

Of course Kelsey and I told them it was unnecessary, and of course we ultimately accepted their invitation. However, we didn't eat at the lodge, but rather drove all crowded together in the boys' car back down to Government Camp where we ate at the Mt. Hood Brewing Company's Pub, getting pretty tipsy on the company's microbrews while eating pizza.

Back at the lodge, Kelsey invited them up to our room, and after they deposited their jackets and boots in their own room, they showed up at our door with two six-packs of cold beer.

In the meantime, we had found a soft jazz station on the bedside radio, and had changed into robes. Neither of us was wearing anything underneath.

I could see that the guys were thinking that they had died and gone to heaven to have two chicks so ready to rock-n-roll, and I can't say they were wrong.

They broke out the beers and we all started drinking. Kelsey likes them more athletic and I'm attracted to nerds, so we quickly had demarcated our territory.

Soon, Kelsey was kissing first one guy and then the other, one of whom was the aforementioned Mike and his pal Kirk. Mike was apparently the quarterback and Kirk the halfback at their school (which I shall not name...and besides, nobody's name is real here).

I had Louis and Patrick. Louis was an English student and Patrick was studying to be a civil engineer. So, I had the art nerd and the plastic pocket liner nerd. Even so, there was a bonus: Louis was a fantastic kisser and really knew what to do with my tits. Patrick, it turned out, had about 10 inches which seemed to be permanently erect, to his embarrassment and my delight!

Kelsey got off to a quick start by dropping her robe off her shoulders while talking to her two guys, and before I knew it, she was off to the races, blowing both guys in turn and when she wasn't blowing one of them, she was playing with his cock.

I had to play catch-up with the two shy guys, but I like a challenge. I kissed both boys in turns and fondled their crotches at the same time. Of course, Patrick was stiff already, but soon Louis had caught up. I opened up my robe, dropped onto my back and said "Let's make love, the three of us."

Louis was on my right tit and Patrick on my left, both sucking diligently if not expertly. I fondled their cocks at the same time.

Looking over at Kelsey, she was still ahead of me with one cock in her pussy and one in her mouth. Her athletes, I saw, had fabulous bodies.

Still, these two guys were tenderly kissing my boobs, and I didn't mind that in the least.

Given his stiffy, I suggested to Patrick that I'd like to be fucked, and so he crawled on top of me and slowly put his cock in me, giving me shivers, for not only was he long, he was thick as well.

I suggested to Louis that if he would find a way to put his cock in my mouth, I'd blow him, and with this incentive he got over my head and worked his cock into my mouth. And so...I licked and sucked.

With Patrick banging me like crazy and Louis's cock in my mouth, it was all I could do to keep myself from cumming, but somehow I managed to outlast Patrick, who came all over my tummy. As he he rolled away, I scooped up some of his jizz and tasted it. I love that taste!

Luckily, Louis hadn't come yet. I pulled his cock out of my mouth and muttered, "I want you to fuck my ass." "Umm...okay," he said, and so I rolled onto my tummy. I lifted my pelvis up a bit and soon I could feel him passing through my rectum. I love that sensation!

Once he was in me, I felt him lay down on my back, his weight evenly distributed, except for his hips which pumped his cock in and out of me. In the meantime, I masturbated, waiting for him to come and keeping myself on the verge of orgasm. From his sounds, I could tell he was cumming, so I finally let myself go.

As Louis fell off me, I rolled onto my back and closed my eyes.

Then, I could feel a pair of hands lift my legs, pushing them up to my chest. It turned out to be Kelsey, who wanted to lick the semen as it trickled out of my asshole. That's how close Kelsey and I are. When you can lick the cum out of another chick's asshole, you are buddies!

That done, we sent the boys back to their room so that we could get ready for another day of skiing before heading back to Ohio.




More of SapphicErotica's latest fuckable Freuleins!

Okay, guys, maybe it's not penis-in-pussy fucking, but it's what a lot of us girls call it when we have sex with each other. Nobody is better at showing gorgeous natural-looking beauties going at it like horny warthogs than SapphicErotica. There are some great galleries here, and I've picked out some of the photos I feel I can show here without risking much trouble.




Wednesday, February 22, 2006
Kelsey and I experience the orgasmatron

Kelsey got us another trip to Portland, Oregon, probably my favorite city in the country. This time, she had to help set up a client and talked her boss into thinking that she needed me along to assist (which is nonsense, but I'm glad he bought it). So, we took an early flight on Southwest which, in typical Southwest Air fashion, took us somewhere else first (Phoenix in this case), made us change planes and got us into Portland around 3 p.m., and about two hours later than a direct flight would have taken. Presently, we were ensconced in The Westin, which is two blocks off Pioneer Square. The luxury suite we were in had an unobstructed view of The West Hills, the small mountains which flank Portland's west side.

Unlike our previous visit, however, we were there in the winter and the weather changed from minute to minute, though mostly it rained. One of the first things we did was run up to the nearby Nordstrom's and buy umbrellas. These umbrellas were put to frequent use during our visit. A couple days actually were sunny, however, but then it was (we were told) uncommonly cold. Not cold for us Lake Effect Girls, but cold to Portlanders, who seldom see temperatures below freezing in the urban center. Temperatures were in the 20's which I guess is fairly unusual. In Ohio, temps get below zero from time to time so 20F is nothing for us.

We were told to meet Pat G. at Jake's Grill, which was in another hotel about two blocks west of our hotel. When we walked into this restaurant, the first thing that hit us was how old it looked. The building looked old, too. There are old buildings in Cleveland, of course, which was founded about a century before Portland, but few of them are preserved quite this well. The restaurant reeked of tradition and quality and when the food came, it didn't disappoint.

But...I'm getting ahead of myself.

We waited up front for a few minutes for Pat to show up. There were two or three others waiting as well. A middle-aged couple and a real cutie who seemed to be waiting for her date. Her dark brown hair was tied back in a severe ponytail and she had the best-trimmed bangs I've ever seen. Below her heavy black wool coat were a very shapely pair of legs in sexy black suede pumps. They looked like tango shoes because of the strap in front of the ankle, which I know drives a lot of guys nuts. I know it drives me nuts...especially on a hot chick.

Turning my attention back to Kelsey, I asked, "Do you know what this 'Pat' looks like?" Before Kelsey could answer, the cutie spoke up, saying, "I'm Pat. You must be Kelsey and her helper." Kelsey apologized and excused herself with "I was assuming you'd be a guy. In fact, at work they gave me that impression. We both have unisex names, which adds to the confusion, I suppose." We all laughed and Kelsey introduced me.

I'm sure Kelsey was thinking what I was thinking, which was "I hope this girl is as perverted as we are!"

We sat down and Pat, who turned out to be 22 (like me) ordered a $25 bottle of cabernet. She actually looked in her late teens, so of course she had to show her ID, which the waiter took into better light to make sure it wasn't fake.

I had some venison, which was delicious. Kelsey had a steak with cabernet sauce, and Pat, who had eaten there before had pot roast. (Pot roast? I thought at first that Pat was just being frugal for the sake of our expense account, but she offered me a bite, and it was melt-in-your-mouth delicious. In fact, the next time I go there, I am going to have Jake's pot roast!) Dinner was finished off with crême broulee all the way around with excellent Pacific Northwest coffee (the current coffee craze with Starbucks seemingly on every fifth corner started in the Pacific Northwest, and both Seattle and Portland both harbor excellent coffee roasting companies).

We took Pat up to our room and spent about three hours going over documentation and making plans for the next day. As we did so, I started breaking out little bottles of booze from the in-room stash. Kelsey likes bourbon, I like gin, and Pat who it turned out didn't have much experience with the hard stuff, developed an instant liking to rum.

We were a little tipsy already, but once we had done what we could business-wise, we went down to The Daily Grill on the main floor of our hotel and sat at the bar for a couple rounds as we all BS'ed about the "penis people" we had known and loved and/or hated. Kelsey and I were hoping to find a bi-side to this chick, of course, because we both wanted to get her panties off and taste some new pussy before going to bed. Of course, the situation wasn't hopeless since we'd do each other if we didn't do her, but we always like making new friends (and I'm using "making" in several different senses there!).

Finally, Pat said she had to go. Her boyfriend would be missing her pretty soon. Apparently, she lived with her beau. However, as soon as she got off her stool it was clear she was in no shape to drive. Kelsey suggested to her that we go up to the room and get straightened out a bit first. Pat agreed, but when we got up there, she got out her cell and called her boyfriend to tell him what was going on.

After a few words, Kelsey said, "Let me talk to him" the conversation on our end sounded like this: "Hi, I'm Kelsey from Ohio. I'm afraid we got Pat a little bit tipsy and she's in no shape to drive. She could spend the night here and sleep it off if you could drop off some fresh clothes in the morning...If you want to come by and get her that's okay but I think she'd be more comfortable not driving around in the shape she's in...Yes, we're in the Portland Westin on Alder at Park. Do you know where that is?...No, no, no...she'll be fine in the morning, but I know she'd like some fresh clothes. I'll put her back on and she'll tell you what to bring."

As Pat talked, Kelsey gave me a furtive thumbs-up signal.

We didn't want to get Pat any more drunk than she was, so Kelsey made a pot of coffee in the provided automatic coffeemaker.

As she sobered up, we got Pat talking about her boyfriend and it turned out she was experiencing some sexual frustration. He was a bit more straitlaced than she would have liked. "Why? What's missing?" I asked.

She looked up sheepishly and confessed, "I want to be immobilized. Tied up. And I'm curious about anal, too. But he makes me feel like I'm weird and perverted whenever I hint we might go in that direction."

I said, "So what's wrong with being weird?" "Yeah!," Kelsey agreed emphatically, adding "and what's wrong with being perverted anyway?" "We're both weird and perverted!"

"You are not!" Pat exclaimed, though it sounded like there was a question buried deep in there as well.

"Take a look," said Kelsey who dumped her purse on the bed. It contained an 8" clear gel dildo and one of those lipstick-sized "pocket rocket" vibrators. Then she pulled her suitcase onto the bed, took the top layer of clothes off, and showed Pat what was on the bottom. More toys and a plastic sack full of ropes of various lengths. There was also a bottle of Astroglide.

Pat was agog at this display. Kelsey, who was in a pleated business skirt which, due to her very long legs, was above her knees (and thereby attracted lots of attention), reached up under the skirt and dropped her thong to the floor, where she stepped out of it. She then took a large vibrator out of the suitcase, went to the bed across from Pat, drew the skirt up above her legs, opened them very wide, and switched the vibrator on. She then fell onto her back and let it slide up and down over her labia and clit.

Poor Pat wasn't used to this sort of behavior, but you could see she was intrigued. She was staring at Kelsey with her jaw almost in her lap.

I had stripped down to my bra and panties by this time. I asked Pat, "Do you want to be immobilized? Do you want to know what it feels like?" "Uhh...I don't know." "Oh, come on. It's fun! Let me do it to you!" She thought for about 10 seconds and said, "Okay...sure...why not?"

"Take off your clothes," I said. This surprised her for a moment. "Well surely you don't want to be immobilized fully clothed! I mean, being immobilized and naked and vulnerable is what you want, isn't it?" Finally a smile: I had hit the raw nerve of desire hidden in her brain.

I have to tell you, when she took off her clothes, she was a goddess. Like I told you, she was a cutie. That was based on her face, which I can liken to Emily Mortimer, that dark-haired British actress. Now, imagine a face like that on a body like Jessica Simpson. Perfectly formed breasts and legs and a butt that looked like it had a pair of soccer balls pressed together under the skin. Wow!

She was very limber, too, and told me she had been practicing yoga for years. I can believe it, because it was easy to tie her ankles up behind her head and then tie her hands to her ankles. She wasn't showing any sign of being uncomfortable as I rolled her onto her back. Her pussy was now facing the ceiling and her anus was pointed forward.

I could see she was happy, so I asked "Want to have a little fun while you're all tied up?" "Sure...what do you have in mind?"

I walked over to my suitcase, opened it, and pulled out a large vibrator. This one was ribbed and had a light in the tip. I turned it on as I walked her way and I could see a mixture of concern and delight cross her face.

Slowly, barely touching her, I let the toy go up and down her labia and she moaned with pleasure.

This got Kelsey's attention. She was now up on one elbow, though her toy was by now gliding in and out of her twat.

After a few minutes, I gently worked the toy into Pat's pussy and using my wrist slowly pumped it in and out. I kept doing this as I went down on one elbow myself so that I could look into Pat's face. "Pat, you are one of the most beautiful girls I've ever seen. Your boyfriend should worship you and do anything you want him to do." Tears materialized into Pat's eyes along with a little Mona Lisa smile. I planted a kiss on her mouth, which opened for me and for a few minutes we kissed passionately.

Slowly, I got up and asked, "Do you trust me?" She nodded a yes. I withdrew the vibrator and got my bottle of Astroglide, wetting the tip of the toy and her asshole. As I slide a finger in, her eyes widened. "It goes easier if you relax," I said. Truly, she had never experienced anal before. Giving a girl her first anal pleasure is a real treat for me. "Close your eyes," I suggested, "lay back, and relax. Let your mind go away."

She did as she was told and my finger slowly found its way in. She groaned. I worked a second finger in and she groaned some more. When she was loose, I pulled my fingers out and pressed the vibrator up against her sphincter. Her mouth opened and I said, "Don't worry: It'll go in if you relax." She relaxed and bit by bit, rib by rib, it found its way in until a good 6 inches of it was inside her. When she was comfortable, I turned it on and her mouth opened. I could actually watch her inner lips glisten and and a small stream of pussy juice start to drip out.

I licked it off and nearly came myself at the taste.

By now, Kelsey was through watching and wanted to join in.

"Pat" I said softly. "Mmmm?" she asked. "How about you let Kelsey sit on your face?" "Okay" she said in a dreamy far-off voice.

This proved to require a bit of contortionism on Kelsey's part, given the way Pat was bound, but she managed to get her pussy onto Pat's lips and Pat apparently had a pretty good idea what to do, because I saw Kelsey's eyes rolling, and soon she was saying "Oh, God. Oh, yes. Oh FUCK!" In an amazingly short period of time, Kelsey fell off her and onto the floor in a heap saying, "Oh my FUCKING GOD she is good!"

A little tiny voice coming from the direction of Pat's face said, "I'll do it for you, too."

"I'll take over for you," Kelsey said. "Go sit on her face for a while. Her mouth is an orgasmatron."

So, I dropped my panties, and found a way to get my pussy to Pat's lips. Kelsey was right. Soon I was the one screaming my head off, and getting Pat's chin all wet when I came with a good series of squirts. Once I was on the floor all aquiver in a post-orgasm afterglow, I had to say, "You've done that before, haven't you? We're not your first girls."

She smiled with a definite blush and said "My sister and I..." Kelsey stopped her with "Say no more." We all laughed.

I finally realized that Pat hadn't got her rocks off yet, so I said to Kelsey, "We owe her a good one." Kelsey agreed. So did Pat, but she said she didn't need to be tied up anymore. When she was untied, I took her into my arms and kissed her. She put her arms around me. Kelsey kept on giving her anal attentions with the big vibrator and I rubbed and fingered her pussy. It took a while despite all the intention, but when she finally came...it was worth it. She turned nearly purple, screamed bloody murder, and did you ever hear that joke that opens with "Do you smoke after sex?" with the punch line, "I don't know, I never looked." Well, if she could smoke she would have been smoking.

We had sex with Pat a couple more times during the week we were there, but we had other adventures as well, which I'll be recounting in future posts.




METModel's latest load has arrived

They are affiliated with MET-Art and the girls are pretty similar. I also note that the photographers are the same. Anyway, the girls are hot and the photography can't be beat. I picked out a few samples for you. Following them are links to the new galleries.




Sunday, February 19, 2006
A pervert home alone
(or...how to rack up a big phone bill!)

Once again, Erik's out of town (Cairo this time) and I'm home alone.

I reheated some meatloaf with gravy and mashed potatoes and stir-fried some frozen veggies. Not the most delicious meal I've ever had, but filling and pleasing on a cold winter's night. This was followed by some peppermint stick ice cream and a mug of Sumatran coffee.

My friends are all busy or out of town themselves as well, so looking for a fuck in a local meatmarket is out of the question. I feel like masturbating but I'm frustrated. Not interested in our extensive collection of porno videos or magazines. Somehow, computer porn isn't tantalizing tonight, either.

My boss, Kelsey, who shares some of my sexual adventures, gave me a company cell phone last week, and I just found a new use for it! I already have a cell phone of course, but having two phones opens up unexpected possibilities.

This is one of those flip phones and it's really small. Looking at how small it is gave me an idea. I set it on "vibrate," worked it into a condom, tied the condom off, and liberally spread Astroglide all over it. Then...

I stuffed it into my pussy and...

Using my other cell phone, I called myself all evening long.




Thursday, February 02, 2006
The taste of a Martini

It all started two Fridays ago with Kelsey, my sexy boss-girl, saying, "I hope you can stay and help me." "Why? What's wrong?" "I need to find a letter from last summer. It seems to have been misfiled. A customer claims they never received a notice, and I know they did because I wrote it myself, but our copy seems to have been misfiled, so we need to go through the files till we find it. The lawyers won't accept an electronic document."

Kelsey's always been good to me (she gives great head!), so of course I agreed. She was so happy she took us to Carabbas Italian Restaurant for dinner...yum!

Kelsey actually used to be a fashion model. Now in her 30's, she too old for the runways, but she is full of wild tales about the nightlife led by the fashion model. Don't envision some anorexic stick figure though. While I'm sure she weighed less when she was a model, she's no stick figure, and her boobs are a right proper C-cup, not a B or A. Best of all, she has those puffy nipples which I love. They get puffier when I suck on them, of course...heh heh.

After dinner, we started poring over the files. I felt for Kelsey. She was in no serious danger of being fired, but a serious fuck-up could easily have stalled her upward mobility. She was a good friend and I wanted to help. And I really could help since I was not only more familiar with the files, but with the most likely ways things become misfiled.

Time dragged on: 7 p.m., 8 p.m., 9 p.m., 10 p.m. At around 10:30, I threw my arms up in the air and yelled, "I found it!" Kelsey put down the file folder she was looking through and smiled. I ran over and showed it to her. "Yes! That's it! Oh thank you, thank you!!!"

She took me in her arms and hugged me. I hugged her back. The next thing I knew, our mouths were open and our tongues were caressing, when all of a sudden she stopped dead. I looked into her face and saw she was looking over my shoulder. I turned to see one of the cleaning crew, a handsome young black man, frozen like a deer in the headlights.

Kelsey said, "Hi, my name is Kelsey, what's yours?" "Ned," he replied softly. "Let's do him!" I whispered eagerly in her ear. "Just what I was thinking," she whispered back.

"Ned," she said, "close and lock the door." "Why?" he asked. "For privacy, silly." "We're going to fuck your brains out, and we wouldn't want you to lose your job." The precious boy was almost terrified. "Don't worry about anything," Kelsey said. "If anyone asks where you were, we'll tell them you were doing some special work at my request."

"Ummm," he said, looking around, as if for someone to give him advice. For a moment, I almost wondered if he would turn us down, but at last he locked the door and headed our way.

When he got there, Kelsey pulled down his zipper and out came what I can only describe as a black anaconda. As big around as my wrist, and though still flaccid, nearly as long as my forearm, it was a cock of mythic proportions.

"My oh my," said Kelsey, bug-eyed, her comment followed by a lascivious leer. My jaw was on the floor.

Kelsey pulled him close and pulled his cock up and down rhythmically. I unbuttoned my top, exposing my breasts which, compared to his cock, I admit, look rather normal.

Since she was Frenching him, I broke her grip on his cock, dropped to my knees, unhinged my jaw (I'm kidding), and did my best to suck him off without scraping the skin off his cock with my teeth.

Unfortunately, the more I blew him, the bigger his cock got. Finally, all I could do was lick it.

I stood up took off my skirt and then my panties. I then pressed his cock up against my pussy, holding it there with one hand while I moved my hips. He respondes with a rhythmic motion of his hips. I tipped my hips so that his cock rubbed my clit and did all I could to fight off an orgasm.

Kelsey let go of him, took off her own skirt and panties, sat on the table, and hooked her heels into the table edge, her knees far apart. The invitation was obvious and he accepted, dropping to his knees to worship and lick her furry vulva.

Dropping to my own knees, I pulled his pants down, jacking him off slowly. This went on for a few minutes. I then licked the "fuck you" finger of my other hand, making it plenty wet. I slid my finger into his asshole slowly, until I was all the way in. This allowed me to massage his prostate while still working his cock, which frequently makes guys come right there, but Ned resisted, and I could tell he was plenty excited from the rock-hardness of his dick.

So could Kelsey, because his attentions to her pussy became quite a bit more vigorous and effective, and she made sounds as if she was about to cum. This made him even more vigorous in his efforts on her pussy.

She came hard and pushed him off and sliding down into a heap on the floor. I pulled Ned up and sat him on the table, his feet on the floor and his huge cock pointing straight up at the ceiling. I had been masturbating him before, but now I could do it even more vigorously. As I pumped his stupendous cock I sucked the wrinkled sandpapery skin of his balls into my mouth.

When he seemed on the verge of ejaculation, I would stop jacking him off and just lick the shaft, feeling the bulging veins sliding up and down my tongue.

When he calmed down, I would suck and lick his glans to get him started again.

All of a sudden, he stopped being passive, pushed me to the floor and fucked me hard missionary while licking my neck and cheeks and giving me deep, probing Frenches on the mouth. Gathering up my legs and pushing them up to my shoulders, he pumped me deep and hard and had me coming like crazy, but his pumping was so violent and mindless, I'm sure he was unawares.

And so I came...and came...and came!!!

Then, he rolled me over, pulled my hips up so that my butt was up in the air but my shoulders and cheek were laying on the floor in a "low doggy" position. At the same time, I was signaling Kelsey to slide over, and when she did, I tongue-fucked her as hard as I could while she clamped her hands on my head to help me.

After a few minutes, Ned pulled out. The next thing I knew, his cock was pushing into my ass and, of course, I was cooperating as best I could, though he was so big it was a real effort. When he was finally full in, it was painful. But it was that "It hurts so good" kind of pain!

I helped Kelsey roll over and while I was being butt-banged, I rimmed Kelsey, enjoying the stinging taste of her asshole as it filled my mouth.

Once again, Ned had me cumming like crazy and once again he was totally oblivious, concentrating as he was on getting his own rocks off.

I could tell he was getting there, so I pushed him off and rolled over, grabbing his cock and, holding the tip over my chin, I jacked him off until he ejaculated sloppily into my mouth, over my nose and eyes, forehead and hair. And when he was done, I sucked the jizz off his dick, off my hand, and I ate whatever cum I could gather off my face. ...It was tasty.

Ned stood up, pulled his pants up, rearranged his clothes, and said "I better get back to work." Grabbing the two wastebaskets, he unlocked the door, dumped them into the bin in his cart, and disappeared.

After he was gone, and while Kelsey and I were getting dressed, Kelsey remarked,"I don't think he said more than 10 or 15 words!" I thought and said, "I think you're right!"

"Want a drink on the way home?" Kelsey asked, adding, "There's a new Martini bar near the mall." I had a Martini and Kelsey and I agreed, the Martinis tasted a lot like Ned.

Which was nice...




Sunday, January 01, 2006
My European holiday, Pt V (The Finale)

I figure it's about time I wound up my trip to Europe.

Erik had to stay behind at the last minute. He got sent to Australia to save an important sale and had left at 4 a.m.. So, I found myself alone the last day in my Bremen hotel room after he had left, packing my things, and wishing he were there with his great sense of humor, his irritating jokes, and his tender hugs and kisses. I missed him!

By 11 a.m., I was at the airport waiting for the Lufthansa to London. On the way to the airport in a Mercedes-Benz taxi (they all seemed to be Mercedes, everywhere I went!), I got my last appreciation of this beautiful and friendly city.

Sometime after 3, I was London's Gatwick airport in a bar nursing a Spanish Coffee and reading a Vanity Fair.

"American?" said a male voice with a mild accent I couldn't quite place. He was toting a rather small suitcase with a tall extender handle.

"Yes. Is it so obvious?" I replied.

"Just a guess. I don't think Vanity Fair is a big magazine outside the U.S., except possibly in writer's circles. But mostly it was due to the tag on your suitcase."

I blushed at not realizing I was carrying around a dead giveaway.

His accent, I had decided was German, and he would have been, had we been in the 1930's an exemplar of Hitler's Aryans: blond in the hair, blue in the eyes, and the picture of good health. (Of course, in reality, the real Aryans were dark in the hair, brown in the eyes, and came from modern-day Iran, not Viking country).

"May I join you? I have a little time before my flight, and you look like good conversation." "And you look like a good fuck!" I was thinking. "Sure, have a seat. I was just finishing the last of the articles I had wanted to read anyway, so you're probably saving me going over to the magazine rack and buying me another one."

He sat down opposite me, sinking into the plush lounge chair and crossing his legs.

He asked me what I had been reading, and as I told him about each article, it set us off in a different direction. Politics, travel, music, automobiles, and food are among the topics we discussed for several hours. Somehow, we never got into the personal area.

The more we talked, the hotter I got. Finally, I looked at my watch, realized I would be boarding my plane in less than an hour, and, looking around, said, "I don't know about you, but I'd like to fuck!"

Somewhat shocked at my forwardness, he said, "Uh...well...so would I!"

"But," I added, "I don't know how to accomplish it here. Any ideas?"

He thought a bit and said, "I think I do. Come with me."

At his side, he navigated the airport like he'd been there many times, which I guess he probably had. This was confirmed when he said, "There is an area I go to when I want to take a nap or just enjoy some peace and quiet."

Before long, we were in an area of the airport used by official airlines of small and poor countries. Eventually, we had passed three or four waiting areas on each side without seeing a anyone.

He guided me to a row of seats facing a window and sat down. I sat down next to him. He looked at me appreciatively for a few seconds and then planted a dry kiss on my mouth. I kissed back, mouth open, and our tongues got busy.

He was fondling my breasts through my blouse and I was unbuckling and unzipping his pants, where I found a semi-erect penis. At least it wasn't tiny! In fact, it was rather large-ish, if you know what I mean.

His cock grew in size as we kissed and petted each other. My nipples were by now rock-hard and had gotten very sensitive.

I got up and helped him get his pants and boxers down to his ankles. I knelt between his knees and took his stiff pecker into my mouth, circling the glans with tongue until I tasted some of his salty cock juice. Wow! That made my pussy kind of spasm and I got tingly all over. (The gals will know what I'm talking about.)

He's moaning kind of low and sliding forward in his seat. I'm not sure why guys like that, but they like to get kind of almost on their back to get a blow job, and he was no exception.

I looked at his sopping wet cock and realized that in sucking it, I'd added at least another inch to it, and the girth had grown a bit as well. It now had thick bluish veins and a glans that looked like some obscene pink mushroom.

After a bit, I got up and standing first on one leg, then the next, I took my panties off, twirling them around my finger with a smile and winking at him.

I got onto my knees in the seat next to him, facing backward, in a doggy position. He took his boxers and trousers off, and flipped up my pleated skirt. Instead of fucking me right away, though, he got down on his knees and licked my pussy with a great degree of expertise. I laughed and said, "I see you've done this before!" He laughed as he licked and said, "Practice makes perfect!"

It sure does!

Woow!!! The next thing I knew, he was sticking his tongue deep into my asshole, which just gave me major shivers. And as if that weren't enough, he was three-fingering my pussy with one hand and stroking my tummy with the other.

I just about passed out I was having so much fun. Just then, it got even better because he stopped what he was doing and I felt him enter my love canal, which you'd better believe was lubricated like crazy by then. He slid right in and started banging me hard. I crossed my arms and rested one cheek on them, closing my eyes, so I could think of snips and snails and puppy dog tails while he slowly brought me to a tumultuous and (I'm afraid) noisy series of wet orgasms because, as you may or may not know, I'm a squirter.

I thought he deserved a good finish, too, so I turned around in the seat to find him leaning against the glass, his cock still in full erection. I dropped to my knees in front of him and started blowing him with every trick in my rather extensive book, and he alternately growled and groaned as I did so. I could tell he was about to cum when he pushed me back and asked, "Do you like it ass-wise?" "Brother, do I!" I replied. "I thought you might, you little tart you! Lay down."

I was on my tummy in a flash, and soon I felt him probing my pussy. He used my own wetness to lubricate my asshole and soon I felt his rigid rod pushing against my anus. I did my best to relax and, sure enough, he was slowly sliding in. Fuck! He felt big inside me. I raised my butt a bit to make it easier for him and even humped a bit myself once I found his rhythm.

This is when I thought I heard someone talking, and I whispered, "Quiet! I think someone's nearby!"

So, he fucked my ass there, driving me crazy, and we did it without making a sound.

I was fiddling with my clit as he did so and I could feel an orgasm slowly rising within me. When at last I came, I don't know how I did it silently, but I think I did. Somewhere in there he came, too, because when he pulled out, it was a very wet exit.

Because I had an asshole full of semen that I didn't want in my underwear, I told him I needed to visit the restroom. He looked at his watch and said, "I'm sorry, but I have to go. I'm already very late for my flight." I waved him off and he was gone in a sprint. I soon followed, looking intently for the nearest restroom, my anus bunched tight to keep his deposit from running down my inner thigh and possibly soiling my skirt.

It took a couple minutes, but I found one and, as I sat down on a toilet, I was glad to be able to let his whiteness drop into the bowl. Looking at my watch, I realized my flight was probably about to board, and, putting my panties back on, I myself trotted back to the main concourse, finding my gate just in time. Lufthansa was about to give my seat away to some stand-bys.

I wish I could tell you that I joined the "Mile High Club" on the way back, but actually I read about 100 pages of a paperback book I'd brought with me and slept the rest of the way mostly.

As I left the plane in New York, the crew was waiting at the door to greet us and wish us farewell. As I got there, Hilde and Renata, smiling, said a standard good-bye. At that moment, the Captain appeared in the doorway.

Guess who he was!




Wednesday, December 07, 2005
Erik's Mrs. Robinson Story

I don't know why Erik never told me this story before, but recently while snowed in on Saturday night, he got very chatty reminiscing about his high school years, and this story has stayed with me.

Erik's family came to Ohio from New England. His great grandfather was a Norwegian whaler sailor who (metaphorically) dropped anchor in Maine, taking instead a job as a fireman for a train line. I gather a fireman is the guy responsible for feeding coal to the boiler of a steam engine. As time went by he was promoted to an engineer, the guy who runs the steam engine.

Erik's father came to Ohio, also working on trains as a mechanic in the Collinwood Train Yard. He was ambitious, went to night school, and got a business degree. Then, he got a law degree, started a legal practice, and became fairly wealthy in the intellectual property field.

Somewhere in there, late in life, Erik's father met Erik's mom, who worked as a legal secretary for another attorney. They dated for a year or so, his father proposed, and in another year or so Erik came along.

Erik's father was very old school and Erik did not live a life of exceptional privilege despite his family's circumstances. His dad insisted that he do chores around the house and, rather than receive an allowance, he learned to work for every dollar he got.

In his teens, Erik started a lawn mowing business in the neighborhood in the summer and a snow shoveling business in the winter, with leaf-raking and gardening work in the fall and spring. He took care of people's pets when they went on vacation and he washed cars year round. He learned values that he carries with him to this day. He's a workaholic in the good sense of the word. He's not happy if he's not doing something.

Miss Daphne Smada was a career woman in her 40's who lived across the street and two or three houses down from Erik's Beachwood, Ohio, home. She took pretty good care of herself and was frequently to be seen jogging or working in her yard in snugly-fitting short shorts with a blouse tied in a knot at the bottom and unbuttoned enough to show plenty of her rather ample cleavage. He thought of her as pretty hot.

It was winter and he was walking back from the bus stop amidst a squall. She was in tight jeans and a short down jacket with a hood. "Would you like some help?" he asked. "How much will it cost me?" she replied. "Oh, $20 should do it," he said. She handed him the snow shovel and said "Come around the back when you're done."

Well, the driveway was long and it took him an hour to finish. He walked to the back door, propped the shovel up next to it and knocked. When she opened the door, he stepped in to discover that she was in an oversize T-shirt she was wearing like a dress.

"You must be cold," she said. "I made you some mulled wine." "I'm just 16," he told her. She replied, "That's okay. I brought it to a boil." (She lied.) He doffed his jacket and drank several glasses.

Erik got a little drunk and she invited him into the living room to watch some hockey. He watched for a while but alcohol put him to sleep. When he opened his eyes, he found that he had an erection and that it was in her mouth.

"I hope you don't mind," she said. "I couldn't resist."

"No...no. Not at all!" he replied.

He tells me that even though this wasn't his first blow job, it was the best he'd ever had up till then.

She got him off...even letting him cum in her mouth.

When he left, he left with $50, not $20. Not a bad day for a 16 year old boy. Better yet, she asked him if he'd be available in the future.

Of course, he told her he was totally "on call."

She called him pretty much weekly, and the pattern was pretty much shovel snow, get a blow job and $50. Help her plant pansies, get a fuck and $50. Help her plant grass seek, get an ass fuck and $50.

He was well on his way to financing his own higher education.

Early that summer, she asked him to help her set up a Canasta party and serve the snacks and drinks. No sex happened until the gals left, but this prompted Daphne to ask him if he could bring some friends to the next gathering. He said he thought he could, knowing exactly what she wanted.

More yard work and more sex went by. Three months later, she had another Canasta party with three of her friends. Erik brought along three of his best buddies. When the card game finished, the guys brought out the drinks and everybody got drunk and comfy and before long it was (as Erik described it) "Fuck and Suck City."

These were all unmarried professional women who were a bit too old to be doing the "meat market" thing. At the same time, they were all very fit women with fine bodies and perhaps a wrinkle or two, and they were a lot more ready to "put out" (as the guys saw it) than the girls they went to school with.

Well, almost every month one of these women would throw a card party and the boys would show up and each go home with $50 and a pecker sore from overuse.

As Erik went on to college at a local private school, this relationship continued and even expanded. As the word got out, Erik was relied upon to supply help and entertainment for all-girl events put on by Daphne and her ever-expanding circle of friends.

No, Erik wasn't really "pimping," because he never took a fee, but he was relied upon to supply talent and for this he was highly regarded both by the women and male population of his school.

Eventually, Erik graduated and went on to a well-known East Coast business school, leaving this "business" behind.

After Erik and I hooked up, we were out shopping one day and Erik ran into Daphne, introducing me to this woman about whom I'd heard so much.

She was still hot, and so I invited her over to our place for dinner. She seemed a bit nervous about it, but agreed when Erik repeated the invitation.

When the day finally arrived, she came, bringing an expensive bottle of French Sauvignon, which was good, since I was cooking up some Tournedos Rossini.

We drank some wine to loosen up before dinner.

During dinner, as we all had more alcohol, we loosened up.

After dinner, I served my patented flan with a large strawberry on top.

We then retired to the living room to drink some Port.

I decided I needed to break the ice, so I went right to it: "I understand that were one of Erik's first sexual experiences."

I think she gulped. She looked at Erik who smiled and winked at her.

She didn't say anything.

I said, "Unless I'm totally misreading Erik, he still thinks you're hot. As a matter of fact, so do I!" Given this permission, Erik planted a kiss on her lips. At first she seemed tense, but she took a look at me, relaxed, and returned the kiss. I could see their tongues touching.

Soon, his hands were all over her, caressing her and undressing her from the waist up revealing rather large and perky breasts for a woman her age. And no, they weren't fake. They were the real deal. By this time, I was massaging my pussy through the fabric of my slacks.

She got Erik's big cock out of his pants and was licking the tip like there was no tomorrow. I like to see him get a blow job because I just like the look of his cock. He's big: as far around as my wrist and about 2/3 as long as my forearm. Big as he was, she must have unhinged her jaw because, after toying with his glans for a while, she started deep throating him.

I took my slacks and panties off. Pulling a butt plug and a bottle of Astroglide out of a drawer in the end table next to the love seat I was on, I wetted it and slowly slid it in my ass. Wetting my finger in my pussy, I massaged my clit slowly but firmly while fucking my ass with the plug.

Daphne stood up and removed the rest of her clothes and Erik did the same. He sat down and she carefully sat down on his rigid cock, laying her back against his chest and resting her head on one of his cheeks. Her legs were hooked outside his, so she was open about as wide as she could be. He pumped her slowly and she moaned in appreciation.

Leaving the butt plug in place, I crawled across the floor on hands and knees until I was between their legs. She had the most beautiful hairy bush (even though I shave, I have a "thing" for bushy babes). She had kind of zoned out and jerked to attention the moment my tongue started flicking away on her unbelievably erect clitoris. My God! It was practically a little penis. I could actually get it in my mouth.

At first, she just looked down at me, but then she smiled.

Erik saw me down there and after a bit, pulled his cock out of her pussy and I sucked all of her pussy juice off it. The salty, musky taste made me quite excited. Before sticking in back in her dripping cunt, I admired it for it's lovely mushroom-like pink tip and the bulging veins that gave it its power. With one last kiss to the glans, I popped it back in and this time he fucked her furiously, but she's experienced at sex and was holding back for more. She wasn't letting herself orgasm. Or so I surmise.

Anyway, she got up and turned around for some face-to-face fucking. Once again, Erik was insider her like a battering ram. I know well what this big cock feels like inside but I could only imagine the pleasure she was feeling, though I could tell from her moans and wails that she was well pleased.

"You can fuck my ass," she said, and once again she turned, this time slowly squatting down on his cock until it was far in, then laying her back against his chest while drawing her knees up to her tits. Once again, I settled in between their legs, licking her pussy lips and clit as his cock, like a piston, drew in and out of her ass.

This time, between my attentions and Erik's, she couldn't evade orgasm and when she came, she came hard, with piercing cries and involuntary tremors.

At last, she had to fall off him onto the floor, and there the sounds she made seemed a mixture of laughing and crying. I turned away from Erik, in a low doggy position with shoulders, pussy, and cheek to the floor, that was an open invitation to fuck my ass, too. And that's exactly what he did.

After a few minutes of mind-bending butt fucking and masturbating, he pulled out, and told me to lay on my back and bring my feet over my head in a position we both liked, with my legs spread wide and my toes pointing down toward the floor and my asshole pointing straight up. I like this position because I can watch him fuck my ass and he can easily cum on my face.

Before he came, he brought me to orgasm several times and I squirted all over my face.

When I'd had my share, Erik took his turn, fucking my ass hard until he was ready to cum, and when he came, he squirted all over my face and into my mouth.

Daphne, who had been laying on one side by now, her head braced on one hand, sat up now and applauded. I was laying on my back, catching my breath, but the applause made me laugh. She then crawled over and gently licked the jizz off my face and tits, depositing it in my mouth with tender kisses.

"Well that was nice," Erik said, marking the end of the encounter. We all got up, grabbed our clothes, and after cleaning up a bit, donned our clothes again, and she politely bade us good-bye.

We never ran into her again and later heard the she had moved to Florida to be with her elderly mother.

Too bad. I liked her, and I often dream of her licking Erik's sperm off my body and then putting it into my mouth with tender kisses.




Friday, November 25, 2005
Motherfucker!

Have you had the experience that many of the people you counted as friends in high school rapidly disappeared from your life, but then someone who hardly noticed turns out to be a much better friend later on? That's the way it was with Adrienne.

Currently one of my best friends, I can remember seeing her in the halls or the library but I doubt if I ever said a word to her. Not that I was consciously giving her the cold shoulder, or her me. Our paths just never crossed, and you know when you're a grade apart, it's almost like being in different worlds.

I was reintroduced to her at a Christmas party last winter. The guys were off watching some kind of sport-oriented video (athletes running the wrong way or running into each other). I wandered into the kitchen to hang out with some of the other gals. The lady of the house had made some mead, which was both delicious and weird tasting. Kind of like wine but with no fruity taste.

We chatted about mundane things. I'm sure I could have made things interesting by going into some of my sexual exploits, but that was neither the time nor the place. Into the room walks this beautiful girl. The first thing I noticed was her wavy blond hair in a classic 1940's-50's wavy pinup girl hairdo that wouldn't have looked out of place on Rita Hayworth or Marilyn Monroe.

She had the pinup girl build, too, with one minor exception. How shall I put this? She was "heavy with child," to use the terminology of The Bible. And she was ready to pop. In fact, she looked like perhaps she should have popped two months ago. I don't think I've ever seen a gal looking quite this pregnant. When she walked into the room, all conversation stopped and remarks were made about her size, when is it due? Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?

She politely answered their questions. It was due last week. It's a boy. We also found out that her husband who had been around all last week when the baby was due, had had to go to Texas to handle a business emergency. We found out that he traveled a lot on business doing computer installations and troubleshooting sites that were experiencing problems. To me, it sounded a lot like my relationship with my cohabitor, Erik, who was out of town half to two-thirds of the time. In fact, I had come to this party on my own because Erik was working on a deal in Singapore, though he promised he'd be back for Christmas, still nearly a week off, no matter what.

We broke off at one point, and that was when we discovered we had attended the same school on grade apart. Suddenly, her face, which had at first been vaguely familiar, became quite familiar.

We hit it off so well what with common interests in books and movies, that everyone else left and our hostess finally had to guide us to the door.

Just as we were saying our good-byes at the door, Adrienne's water broke right there on the front stoop! The poor girl almost instantly went into hard contractions. Our hostess called her husband and between him and me we got her to my car sitting on a towel, and I headed off to the hospital with him behind us to make sure we go there safely.

We got her into the ER, and I thanked him for his help. I told Adrienne I'd stay with her. It was a Friday evening, Erik was away, and I didn't want to leave this newfound friend to get through the birth on her own.

A nurse took her into an examination room and determined that she was so dilated that the birth would likely happen before the obstetrician could even get there, and in fact, the litle boy popped out before a nurse or orderly could even get her up to the delivery floor.

The baby boy was quite large. Nine pounds, five ounces. This explained her size.

After the birth, the baby left for a quick pediatric examination, and she was wheeled up to the delivery floor. I was allowed to tag along, which required waiving or winking at a few hospital rules and regulations, but the nurses were quite accommodating once they learned that the boy's father was halfway around the world.

After about 15 minutes in her room, and just before I was afraid she would become hysterical, her baby was finally brought up to her. The nurses said that the little boy could hardly be more healthy.

He was blotchy pink with surprisingly profuse black hair. His tiny little hands had fingernails no bigger than dandruff flakes. Like most infants, he had a voice that was loud and piercing and sounded more like a little buzz saw than human. I watched her bond with her baby and knew that someday...I'd want to be doing the same thing.

Before the nurse left, she encouraged Adrienne to try to nurse him, and so Adrienne exposed her breast. It was large and distended with milk. Her nipple no longer the natural pink of the woman who isn't feeding a baby. Rather, it was brown and surprisingly large. Quite a bit larger, in fact, than, say, a silver dollar. When Michael (as he was to be named) started sucking, I saw an expression cross her face that looked almost like an orgasm.

By then, it was very, very late in the morning. She needed rest and I needed rest, and so I went home and slept. But I returned the next day and the day after that, spending all of the visiting hours with her. As she bonded with Micheal, so we bonded with each other, and now she's one of my best friends.

The day of her release, having been given the key to her house, I got her infant carrier and installed it in my car. I drove her back to her car and held Michael while she installed the carrier in her car. I told her I'd stay with her until her husband returned, and she gratefully accepted my offer.

For several days, I cooked and cleaned and ran to the grocery store so that she could recover her strength and spend every available moment with Michael.

At last her husband, Keith, returned. We were introduced, and I returned to my own life. Erik returned as promised, Christmas and New Years passed, and life returned to normal, except that I would visit my newfound friend about once a week.

In mid-March I got a phone message at work to call Adrienne. It turned out that Adrienne had taken a bad fall on some ice while carrying out the trash, and that while nothing was broken, she was quite sore and had a great deal of difficulty moving about. Keith was away on business and could not return for what essentially was not a life-threatening emergency. He would be gone for yet another week, at least.

I told Adrienne that, while I couldn't take off work, I'd be happy to move in temporatily, cook and clean and run errands in my spare time as I had done three months before when Michael was born.

Adrienne had been working on herself and was pretty much back in shape again, which I noticed was a very nice shape indeed. Curvy and voluptuous like Marilyn Monroe or Betty Page, and yet with no hint of cellulite. Her breasts, since she was still breast feeding, were big. I won't say "huge," because they were not, but they were certainly ample.

Adrienne could only hobble about the house, and so I was playing "gofer" quite a bit, but I didn't mind. We were friends and I knew that were the situation reversed, I could certainly count on her help.

I slept in their king-size bed with her for practical reasons. I would wake up when Michael cried and bring him to her. If she needed a diaper or a wipe, I would get it for her. And by sleeping there rather in the guest room, there was one less bed to make in the morning, which was a blessing for me.

She was exhausted it seemed, and I understood why. Dealing with an infant and living by the infant's schedule, recovering from an injury that prevented her from standing for more than a few instant, she fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. The house was warmer than normal for the benefit of the baby, about 75 degrees, so Adrienne and I slept without covers dressed only in our panties. If we got a bit chilly, only a sheet was needed to warm us.

That first night, I masturbated while gazing on her goddess-like body, marred only slightly by a belly (miraculously free of stretch marks) that was still just a tiny bit distended, but had been getting smaller day by day.

Her breasts, which I'm sure were always ample, were all the more so swollen with milk. That said, they were, if not perky, surprisingly firm, and as she lay on her back, her boobs didn't retreat into her armpits the way so many big breasts do. She was and is also naturally pale, which I like. I don't especially like the look of deeply tanned women, especially blondes.

I had a quiet orgasm and went back to sleep.

The second night, after we climbed into bed, she put her arm under my neck and pulled me close, telling me what a good friend I was.

She kissed me and looked into my eyes saying, "I know what you did last night." I'm sure I must have blushed. She laughed a bit and kissed me on the forehead. "It's okay," she said.

Before I knew it we were giving each other open-mouthed kisses. I rolled on top of her to kiss her better and her finger found first my pussy and then my G-spot. I stopped kissing and just buried my head in the billows of her golden hair as she guided me to a very intense and wet orgasm.

I relaxed on top her her body as I recovered.

Then, I dropped off to the side and started to give her a vigorous hand job. She orgasmed hard and then she was the one who needed to recover. Off to sleep we went.

That done, we chatted a bit more...and fell asleep.

The next day, Adrienne was feeling much better and was able to hobble around the house without too much groaning. We even took a little trip to a Cleveland suburb and shopped for about two hours, which was about all the energy Adrienne had to give. We returned and I made a gourmet dinner of Gorton's fish sticks, homemade home fries, and baby spinach salad with oil and garlic dressing.

We watched TV all evening, taking turns holding Michael when he wasn't sleeping. By then, he was quite alert, cooed quite a bit, and occasionally even laughed.

Finally, she drifted off. I put Michael in his crib, returned to the couch, and drifted off myself.

We woke up for the 11 p.m. local news and at 11:30 headed off to bed. I wasn't really planning on sex because she had seemed so bushed all evening after our outing to the mall.

We took separate showers, brushed our teeth, checked up on Michael, and headed off to bed.

After we settled in she said, "I think my tits are about to explode, and Michael should sleep for a few more hours." This had typically been the sign for me to get the breast pump, and so I started to get up, but she grasped my shoulder saying, simply, "No...come here."

She pulled me close, guided my head to one of her breasts, and I knew what to do. I took a nipple into my mouth and gently sucked. My mouth tasted the nectar known as Mother's Milk, and the unfamiliar but delectable taste sent a shiver through me. At the same time, I could feel her fingers stroking my head, just as she stroked Michael's when he nursed.

"Oh, come on," she said, "Michael sucks much harder than that!" And so I sucked harder, and at last my mouth flooded with mother's milk.

I could feel a rhythm which told me she was rubbing her pussy, and so I rubbed mine as well, and it was a good orgasm when finally it came.

Michael is now walking, and since we both have partners who travel a lot, it's not uncommon for Adrienne and I to weekend together. We take Michael to the local park or to the mall. We rent movies, pop popcorn, and enjoy each other's company.

Her tummy is now flat and she is 100% healthy, and when Michael goes to sleep, we watch movies and make love and, of course...

I get my milk.




Sunday, November 13, 2005
Going down for the count

(A bit of explanation: This is a story I wrote one afternoon on a return trip to Portland, Oregon, which provides the basic setting, although you can imagine any city set against small mountains. Don't worry: It's sexy, only in this story the fictitious Helen Palmerston is the central character, not me. I hope you enjoy it!)

Almost everyone has been past our house. It's up in the West Hills, a stone's throw from the Japanese Gardens, on a street where the last time a property sold for less than two mil, hard rock was something you quarried.

At least fifty people have answered our word-of-mouth invitation and are now downstairs soaking up the live piano jazz and single-malt Scotch whisky. They're probably oohing and ahing over our collection of oil paintings and the original art books, too.

I live here with Nadja, who's calling up to me because I'm late, as usual. So, I put the finishing touches on my eyeliner and tone down the rouge just a bit. Next, I wet my lips and turn my head this way and that to get one last look at my blond hair. "Helen," I tell myself, "you're a knockout, as always."

No point in denying the truth.

I stand in front of the full-length mirror and adjust the slit on the side of my short black evening dress, and then I go downstairs to find—or, more precisely, to select—a man. I've been looking for a good one for so long now.

An hour or two later, I'm almost ready to throw in the towel and drown myself in scotch, when I notice a tall, thin, strikingly handsome man standing off by himself. Obviously, a lone wolf. He has slicked-back black hair and a severe widow's peak.

I work my way over to him and introduce myself.

"Hello, I'm Helen Palmerston."

"Pleased to meet you," he says in a thick accent. "I am Anton (his last name is unpronounceable, but ends with a hard "u" sound)." He shakes my hand, adding, "You sound English."

"I guess I'll never lose the accent." I love his eyes, their darkness, their almost lupine intensity. I don't know about his suit, though. It's a big-lapeled model of a kind that went out of style with Neville Chamberlain.

I ask, "What about your accent? You can't tell me you're American, either."

"No, I'm from Transylvania...in Romania."

"Transylvania? Ha! Vampire country."

"According to the legends. But no one believes anymore, except maybe for some of the more backward villagers in the high valleys. Perhaps the vampires have scattered all over the world now. There might even be one or two right here in Portland, eh?" His voice and manners are pleasant, and even though he's pretty weird, I have to admit he's fascinating, much like the men Nadja and I knew back in St. Petersburg.

After fifteen or twenty minutes of conversation, Anton looks around conspiratorially and says, "I have been here for quite a while already without meeting anyone interesting—other than you, of course—so I am going home where it is quieter. May I have the pleasure of your company?"

He has been chosen. I accept without hesitation.

The next thing I know, we're wedged into his low, red Ferrari, and we're screaming up West Burnside at about 5000 RPM deep into the West Hills.

We take the Pittock turn-off and continue uphill. I lose count of the turns and switchbacks until, with a spray of gravel, we finally turn onto a winding unpaved road and from there into an even more tortuous driveway.

After thumping heavily across a rough-hewn wooden bridge, we park on a small plateau in front of a crenellated stone house. Anton presses a button on the dash and behind me I hear a creaking sound. When I turn, I vaguely see something moving. I also have the impression the ground is moving under my feet.

"My drawbridge," he explains. "We have privacy now."

Inside, I'm put off at first by the dank smell of the place, but Anton pours me a Sherry out of a cut crystal decanter and shows me around. Soon, I begin to feel comfortable.

Like the exterior, the interior walls are masonry. Faded tapestries hang everywhere, as do portraits of slender, dashing men with widow's peaks posing in old-fashioned European officer's uniforms. These portraits are interspersed with paintings of gaunt, drained-looking women in a variety of fabulous gowns.

"Anton, what do you do for a living?"

One side of Anton's mouth curls slightly and he says, "I inherited more money than I could ever hope to spend. In fact, I devote much of my time to figuring out inventive ways of doing just that. And you, Helen, what do you do?"

"I'm a photographer's model. Fashion spreads and ads mostly; some figure work."

We retire to the drawing room, where I settle into a huge leather couch with Romanian folk motifs tooled into it. Meanwhile, Anton starts a fire in a fireplace so huge that I could almost stand up in it. Before long, I feel its warmth on my shins and breasts, which is good, because the gloom and coldness of the stone walls is chilling.

Sitting down at the opposite end of the couch, his slender, spidery legs crossed tightly, like a woman, Anton is entirely at ease, exuding self-confidence. He is not the least bit nervous with women. "So," he says, "you mentioned vampires. Do you believe in them?"

"Oh, yes."

He looks at me with amusement and asks, "Could you ever believe that I am a vampire?"

"I think I would know if you were. You aren't telling me you are, are you?"

"You obviously wouldn't believe me anyway," he says with a sly chuckle. Then he steers the conversation to literature, taking me over to his bookshelves, pulling down books as he talks, showing me pictures and translating passages for me from a variety of languages.

My interest in Anton has been growing steadily. I now realize just how much more complicated and interesting he is than almost any other man I've ever met. And when I take a Russian text out of his hand and give him what I feel is a better translation of a passage from Dostoevsky, he says, "You read Russian! Imagine, a scholarly photographer's model. Where did you learn?"

"Nadja taught me. She's a Russian, you know, and a Russian teacher. I'm quite familiar with Russian literature by now."

"Ah, yes, Nadja. Your Russian roommate. You and she are such a beautiful pair."

"Well, Anton, you're not her type. I can tell you that right now."

He raised his eyebrows, but otherwise let that remark pass without comment. I assume he took it as jealousy.

After an hour or so of increasingly more entertaining discussion, Anton asks if I'd like more Sherry. I accept, just so that I can watch him move some more. He's become almost overwhelmingly attractive to me. Not only is he smarter and more complex than any man I've ever met, but he's handsome in an offbeat way, too.

When he sits down and hands me my drink I say, "You know, Anton, I'm attracted to men who are intelligent and worldly."

He's not the least taken aback by my forwardness, saying, "And I have always been attracted to beautiful, smart women who know what they want, and go after it."

"May I take off my clothes, Anton?"

With a casual wave of his hand that no American male could ever duplicate, he says, "It will whet my appetite."

I get up and turn off the lights one by one, his dark, intense eyes following me all the while. Then I walk in front of the fireplace.

I'm an exhibitionist—and I mean that quite clinically: Showing my body and arousing men (or even susceptible women) is exciting for me. It helps when the way you earn your living is to show your body.

So, in the amber warmth of the fire I slowly disrobe until I'm wearing nothing but my black garter belt, dark stockings, and five-inch heels. I spend a few minutes slowly posing for Anton, just as I would for a top lingerie photographer. Then I lay down on the now-warm stone floor, posing for him as I would (and have) for a raunchy magazine shoot.

I can't help it...I let my hand wander between my legs. I need to take advantage of the excitement I'm feeling transfixed in his gaze. Still, I like the fact that he is not watching my cunt. Instead he's looking directly into my eyes. This is where most men judge me. They think I'm a whore for simply being what I am and for acting out my fantasies. But not Anton; he doesn't judge.

When I sense we're both ready, I get up, walk over to him, and drop to my knees between his spidery legs. His eyes give me tacit permission, so I unzip his trousers and reach in.

After two or three minutes of massaging, caressing, and kissing his cock, I can sense his almost overwhelming need for release. I like this part best: the part where I become the delivering angel.

The sounds he makes as I take him into my mouth are so eerie and feral that my skin goes goose-bumpy, and I tell myself that he might make a pretty good vampire after all.

* * *

It's about 3:30 a.m. Anton is sleeping, so I dress silently. I look for his trousers, and on finding them I search his pockets for his car keys, discovering his passport in the process. I examine and return it.

I draw his drapes shut and, gathering up my coat, shoes, and purse, go down to the car.

Luckily, I have driven Ferraris before, and after a few seconds to familiarize myself with the controls, I start the car, lower the drawbridge, and drive home.

* * *

It's almost 4 a.m. and the house is dark and quiet now and Nadja is sitting alone in the backyard next to a bottle of champagne, seemingly mesmerized by the lights of the city far below. She asks how things went; I tell her they went just fine. I ask her what I missed—not much as it turns out. Finally, we both grow pensive and silent, just absorbing the cool night air.

I say, "I saw his passport. He's a real count, you know."

She laughs nervously. "The Count from Transylvania. That's really rich, Helen." I knew she would make fun of him. I can't hold it against her, really, since I've created a difficult situation.

At the crack of dawn, we gather up our things and stalk off to bed. There we embrace, kiss, and caress each other for a few moments, for Nadja and I are not roommates, as Anton thinks; we are lovers.

When I nip Nadja too sharply on the neck, she squeals and pushes herself away, saying, "Helen, you maniac. I'm too tired."

"I'm just trying to show you that I still love you."

She turns to me and says, "I know you do. I trust you. It still hurts, these episodes with men."

Then, sitting up, I ask, "Did you unplug the phone? We don't want poor Anton interrupting our beauty sleep, do we? He's going to be sore when he wakes up, and when he finds out what I did, he's going to call."

Then she asks point blank, "Where did you do it?"

"I'll give you a clue. I did it when I went down on him."

After a few seconds of thought she yelps, "You what?!" Now she laughs hysterically. "Oh, he will be sore, then, won't he? When he goes to pee." When she regains control of herself she says, "Well, at least he'll have an interesting story, won't he? So few of us have really interesting stories anymore."

A long silence follows. Just before it becomes uncomfortable, she says, "Since you're already half-up, be a dear and shut the door, will you?...the light is hurting my eyes." Closing the heavy door—which shuts out almost all remaining light—I return to her side, lay my head on that ample, soft breast of hers, saying, "Thank you for understanding, Nadja. I'll always love you and be what you want, but...well, there are some things you can't be for me, no matter how hard you try."

She strokes my hair gently and says, "I know. You find men attractive; I don't. As long as you still love me and treat me with respect, I don't really mind."

I kiss Nadja goodnight one last time. Not a lusty lover's kiss as before, but an old friend's kiss. And as I lay down to sleep, my thoughts turn to my father's residence in St. Petersburg—the Crown's embassy to the Russian Czar. It was just a few minutes by horse carriage from the Czar's Palace, where I met my Russian tutor, Nadja Anna Borsakova.

Even back in 1771 I thought Nadja was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.

It was Nadja who stole into my room one night and tasted the dampness of my incipient lust. While my fingers alternately stroked and clutched her black hair, she not only gave me more pleasure than I had ever imagined possible, but she left in the tender skin of my outer lips the two tiny puncture marks that made me what I am...And what Count Anton with the unpronounceable last name has become.

Anton shall sleep all day tomorrow. At nightfall, Nadja and I shall pick him up, and together the three of us shall go cruising for burghers.




Friday, November 04, 2005
The story of the sad girl

Her name is Gwen, and she's a new intern at work. She has straight reddish-brown hair and a slender gazelle-like figure. She resembles Claire Danes quite a bit and like Claire has that ability to appear both plain and gorgeous. Also like Claire, she has that look of subsurface sadness that made Claire so appealing in My So-Called Life, a show whose own so-called life ran roughly in parallel with my own high school years. Claire was my alter ego without even knowing it.

There's a German restaurant in town and since my trip last year to Bremen, I've enjoyed going there for lunch from time to time. After a week or so of cordial contacts with Gwen, I invited her to lunch. She offered to drive, which gave me the special treat of watching her shapely legs work the pedals with her skirt gradually hiking up almost to her crotch. I'm sure if I'd been a guy, she'd have pulled her skirt down from time to time, but ain't I lucky? I'm a goil!!!

The restaurant has cheesy decor (and in fact, few restaurants in Northen Germany have paintings of men in Lederhosen and maidens in Dirndls). However, the food is pretty good and would probably pass muster in mid-range restaurants in Germany. She ordered a brace of sausages with fried potatoes and I ordered Sauerbraten with potato dumplings. We both had a glass of Beck's and after we left, I let out an ear-ringing burp, which made her laugh and somewhere in the gale of laughter she burped involuntarily, which started me laughing furiously and got her laughing even harder.

We got into the car and I commented that it was nice to see her laugh, because normally she seemed fairly somber. No longer laughing, she forced a smile and simply said that she had been through a series of losses in recent years. She didn't go into detail at that time.

I invited her on a weekend fall colors trip out into the farm land around the area, a trip which would included several parks. She had grown up in Arizona and was new to autumn in the Midwest. Maple leaves mottled red, orange, yellow, green, and brown were something which, previously, she had only seen in photographs. She accepted my invitation.

I drove that Sunday, and after picking her up at 10 a.m., we wandered the backroads, stopping frequently for her to jump out and photograph a lovely tree, a homely old barn, or a cow or horse in a field. She was like a child seeing things for the first time that I had grown up with in Northern Ohio.

Along the way we lunched in a small-town restaurant that served Amish fare "family style," which is really basic, rib-sticking food like chicken or roast beef with very fresh vegetables and certainly no alcohol.

We spent the afternoon driving around more. I showed her a couple of the local fishing lakes and we spent about two hours round-tip hiking a trail to a waterfall. It was one of those sublimely beautiful fall days which give you your last glimpses of rich color before the world turns into the gray and white of winter.

It had become too dark to take photos, so I invited Gwen back to our apartment for ham and waffles. She accepted and we chatted, mostly about guys at work, while I worked on dinner. She had never had real maple syrup before! Just that artificially maple-flavored stuff you can buy under various brand names. My syrup came out of a tin, not a plastic bottle, and had been purchased at a sugarbush out near Burton, Ohio. (A "sugarbush" is a grove of sugar maples.)

Real maple syrup, to the sugar lover, induces a gastronomic ecstasy approaching that of sex, and I could see she was savoring each bite, and she had not one but two additional helpings of waffles just so she could have more syrup! I made a joke about injecting it directly into her veins which doubled her up in laughter.

It was so nice to see her happy.

I could see she wasn't even thinking about leaving, which was fine with me, since Erik was up in New Brunswick on business and I certainly would enjoy having the company.

I showed her our video collection and she asked me to pick something good. I pulled out House of Games, one of my favorite movies, written and directed by David Mamet. It was also one of Joe Mantegna's first major roles and it introduced me to Lindsay Crouse, then Mamet's wife, who, with her uniquely resonant voice and short blond hair still makes my panties damp.

As the movie started, I fired up the fireplace and the room got warmer and warmer.

When that movie was over, I let her pick one while I went back into the kitchen to clean up a bit. She soon joined me, asking me about The Unbearable Lightness of Being. I told her it's a wonderful movie, which it is. It was my first exposure to Daniel Day-Lewis, Juliette Binoche, and Lena Olin. That's a trio I'd hop into bed with anytime. I told her that it was a very sexy film, which didn't turn her off. She helped me do the dishes and tidy up the kitchen (a trait I always appreciate in guests).

I popped up a big batch of popcorn and made my special butter and spices drizzle (butter, brewer's yeast, powdered garlic, cayenne, and Kraft Romano Cheese). We returned to the living room, which had become quite warm, so I stepped out of my jeans and took off my top. She was taken aback at first, but followed suit. So there we were, eating popcorn in our bras and panties.

Did I mention we were drinking Hearty Burgundy, too? Oh, yeah!

As we sat there picking up popped kernels one or two at a time, we watched this movie. I had forgotten (or neglected) to tell her how sexy the movie is...and how sad. I've seen it five or six times and it always has me bawling at the end.

As the final credits rolled, I looked over at Gwen, and she was staring at the ceiling, tears running down her cheeks along with some of her makeup. I ran off to the kitchen and grabbed the box of tissues I keep there. I wiped the tears and makeup off her cheeks and took her in my arms. When I did this, she cried even harder and clutched me as if I was her mother.

"What is your story?" I asked. And here is what she told me.

Her father had come back from Vietnam a changed person, according to her mother. Before leaving for duty, he had been a happy-go-lucky guy, always ready with a joke or quip. A bit of a prankster, but nothing ever vicious. After returning, he had no sense of humor and while he was never abusive, he was also never fun again. He had frequent nightmares and never enjoyed life. In fact, she said, she's lucky to even exist because shortly after she was born, according to her mother, he had lost first his interest in sex and then his ability to perform.

Her home was a sad and quiet place, devoid of joy. Her one joy in life was her brother, who somehow managed to take it all in stride, and frequently included his younger sister in the things he did.

On the way home from his senior prom—one occasion when she could not be with him—he and his girlfriend were killed when a truck driver dozed at the wheel of his semi. It wasn't a head-on collision, but the glancing blow at their combined speed knocked her brother's car out of control. This happened near the middle of a bridge over a canyon, and his car hit the curb, flew into the air, and went right over the side falling several hundred feet and landing on a pile of rocks killing both him and his date, who happened to be one of her best high school buddies. She and her brother had even met on a sleepover she had had for her school friends, and their romance had been a source of happiness for her.

This sent her father over the edge. He descencded into a deep depression which cost him his job as a mechanic at the local Ford agency. The night he got fired, he never came home from work. His car was found out in the desert. He drove on a seldom-used side road till his pickup ran out of gas, where he took the shotgun which hung in the back of the cab, stuck it into his mouth, and I don't need to tell you the rest.

Her mother hasn't talked since then and now resides in a state hospital.

I don't think I've ever met anyone who had endured so much loss. I had to admire her for persisting in her studies and keeping it all together as well as she had.

At the same time, it hit me how beautiful she was and how happy I wanted to make her.

"Take me," I said. She said, "What?" Slowly, I settled first onto my elbows, and then onto my back, with one leg on the floor, effectively inviting her to lay on top of me. "Take me," I repeated.

She drifted onto me so slowly I almost didn't feel her body touch mine.

At first, she just looked into my eyes. Here eyes teared up a little bit more, but when she started kissing me, I closed my own eyes.

At first, she just pecked at my lips and cheeks and nose, nibbled on my ears, and licked my neck. She was good, I'll tell you that. She got me pretty worked up. I had decided to be totally passive, and so it took quite a bit longer than I had wanted for her tongue to start probing my mouth.

Wow, what a kisser she was! I was enjoying it in one part of my mind but the other part was screaming "Get me off! Get me off!"

Reaching behind her as we kissed, I unhooked her bra and she helped take it off. Then I rolled to one side, she unhooked mine, and soon we were breast-to-breast. After kissing a while longer, she slid down and took one of my nipples into her mouth, teasing it with her teeth by moving her jaw from side to side. Chills were going up and down my back and legs. When she lifted her head slowly, stretching the nipple until it snapped out of her teeth...fuck!...I almost had an orgasm right there!

Now she was licking her way down to my navel and further on down to my pelvic area where she rubbed her cheeks in the roughness of my pelvic "five o'clock shadow," groaning with pleasure as she did so. Oh, man, was I lubricating. Soon she was rubbing her face in my pussy juice, as I ran my fingers through her silken hair.

Her cheek had found a sweet spot, and so I started groaning encouragement. She pretty nearly got me off with her cheek before I suggested we throw down some pillows in front of the fireplace and continue. I didn't want it to end there.

"Lay on your tummy," she ordered, and I obeyed. She sat on the small of my back to start with and massaged my shoulders. Then she slowly moved back and sat on my lower legs as she massaged my lower back and butt.

I don't know if she can read minds or was just as horny as I was, but I was really happy when her fingers wandered into my butt crack and started teasing my asshole. For a while, it was tease, tease, tease and so at last I said, "Go on...I want you to do it."

Chills again as I heard her suck an a finger. The next thing I knew, s finger was going in nice...and...slow...and...nice...and...deeeep. And then she was finger-fucking my ass, which I raised in the air, stuffing some pillows under my hips to keep it up and make the finger action easier for her.

Well, if you've been reading my stories, you know how much I like ass play! I was in heaven. Then, the finger came out, more sucking sounds, and soon two fingers were in, then three.

I told her where there was some Astroglide in a little end table drawer she could reach, and soon it was four fingers. Oh, man, I was hot.

Curling up into a fetal position, I said, "I want more. Grease me up good." So, she slopped Astroglide onto her hand and into my ass and ever so slowly I accommodated her fingers and then her cupped hand, until I could feel the bulge of her hand slide in.

"Roll onto your back," she whispered and her whisper was my command. As she fucked my ass with her forearm, she licked and sucked on my pussy lips and clit. This was one of those orgasms that sneaks up and surprises you. I came explosively, squirting onto Gwen's chin, and her hand popped out of my butt when she felt my sphincter contracting in the throes of orgasm.

This time she held me as I recovered from this powerful orgasm.

When I was ready, I reached into the drawer and found my little Pocket Rocket vibrator, about the size of a lipstick.

I held it in my hand and rubbed her pussy with it as I kissed her. But there isn't really much to tell. She locked her legs around my hand and said "Just hold me...kiss me." After about maybe 10 minutes of hoding and kissing her, she stiffened, whimpered, and relaxed.

She agreed that it was too far, too late, and too much trouble for me to drive her home, so she shared my bed with me, and I held her in my arms all night long.

I think Kelsey, my boss, recognized that the new intern had shown up at work wearing clothes from my wardrobe and gave me knowing looks the rest of the day.

As for Gwen, we've become real buddies and she often comes over to keep me company while Erik is out of town. I'll miss her a lot when she retutns to Arizona.

But I must say, she seems much happier lately.




Friday, October 28, 2005
My European holiday, Pt IV

Today, we checked out of our hotel in Bremen and hit the road to Amsterdam, getting there around Noon. The ride, which took about 2.5 hours, was beautiful and interesting. We passed through lots of farmland and many small towns which, frequently, were almost within sight of each other.

I'm told that Bremen's little corner of Germany, being so close to The Netherlands, shares a lot of cultural traits with The Netherlands, and it's true. Towns on both sides of the border are very clean and tidy. No, I didn't see any housewives on their knees scrubbing their stoops or sidewalks, but the houses frequently looked like they had been prepared for a photoshoot to take place that very day, with rows of flowers in their yards, flowerboxes overburdened with colorful flowers, and sculpted hedges or whited fences separating one yard from another. Even rowhouses were taken care of with this loving care.

This was true on both sides of the border, though I suppose things got quite a bit neater once we crossed into The Netherlands.

The same can't be said of Amsterdam, though, which, while being far from the vilest city I've ever been to, was nowhere near as well-groomed and immaculate as Bremen, whose citizens will frequently chase a candy wrapper blowing down the street rather than litter even inadvertently. Several times, I've observed people walking down the street stoop to pick up some litter, for no other apparent reason than to make their city more pleasant to be in, for themselves and others.

Our hotel overlooked one of Amsterdam's innumerable Grachten (canals). The building was unbelievably narrow and our suite consisted of three rooms all lined up in a row from front to back. We had the entire floor, which may sound special, but the building was so narrow that there was only room for one suite per floor. At six stories tall, this family-owned structure could handle only five parties a night.

That said, it was quite luxuriously furnished with modern furnishings including very large and colorful abstract paintings. The shiny hardwood floors rolled gently, because the building had been settling for several centuries. Modern rugs made the place feel warmer. We were on the top floor and had a nice view of the canal below, where boats or barges or whatever they were tied up, obviously now used more for housing than transport.

After a quick sandwich lunch, we did some of the usual tourist things, such as taking an early afternoon boat tour of the city's major canals, followed by a visit to the famous Rijksmuseum (National Museum), which is certainly a major museum up there with Le Louvre in Paris, the Prado in Madrid, or The Guggenheim in New York. Cleveland has a great museum, but it certainly doesn't have room after room with major Rembrandt's and Vermeers (Vermeer being my favorite Old Master, especially since Girl With A Pearl Earring, one of my favorite movies).

The museum isn't limited to Old Masters, though, because I saw Van Goghs along with other impressionists as well as a wealth of fascinating contemporary art by artists with names I didn't recognize. I confess to not being that "up" on contemporary art.

Afterward, we shopped around for a place to dine, eventually ending up at a restaurant several blocks from out hotel, where we sampled Dutch beers, staying away from the ones commonly available in our local supermarket and beverage shops in Ohio. I remember really enjoying the beers, but probably more because of the ambience than the beer. To be truthful, the Germans have it all over the Dutch when it comes to flavorful beer.

Erik had some cold pickled herring in a creamy-looking sauce. I had a delicious seafood chowder (not the word they used). It was quite a bit like an American Manhattan clam chowder but with fish and squid or octopus in addition to chopped clams. These dishes, the beer, and a bottomless basket of heavenly rolls and sweet butter made for a very satisfying meal.

It was a pleasant evening, neither warm nor cold, and the air was still, so we took a long walk, tourist map in hand. The architecture in the old parts of Amsterdam (which seems to be most of it), it quite quaint, with more narrow buildings mortared right into each other. Being a surveyor here has to be a very interesting and difficult profession, as well as a stressful one. I'm sure the value of a square foot of land in Amsterdam must be astronomical.

I think Amsterdam could also join that club of cities like New York, Las Vegas, Paris, Rome, and Madrid, that "never sleep," because even though we walked until well after midnight, pedestrians were everywhere, and since 10 p.m., there hadn't been the least sign that foot traffic would be slowing down.

Nevertheless, Erik did find a tiny little alley between two buildings, and as we passed it, he took my hand and dragged me into it.

Now, no woman likes to be raped, but often we do like to be taken roughly. Erik knows that, so from time to time he drags me off somewhere and takes me, fucking my brains out, the more public the location the more exciting it is.

The fact that it's virtually a consensual rape makes it exciting. The fact that I know and love him removes the fear factor.

I was wearing a summer dress and silk panties. He pressed me against a side wall and roughly kissed me as he reached under my skirt, forcing his hand into a leg hole. He massaged my clit and labia with stiff fingers as his tongue explored my mouth.

Then, he grabbed my ass with both hands, lifting me off the ground. I wrapped my legs around him, grinding my pussy against his hardening cock. We kissed ever more intensely and hungrily, almost angrily.

My God, I was lubricating like crazy. I could have wrung my panties out like a wet washcloth.

With my legs still wrapped around him, he walked further into alley, and I suddenly realized that he knew where he was going. He had been to Amsterdam before on several occasions. I didn't know where we were going, but I went with it.

The alley opened up into a gorgeous enclosed garden, fringed with flowers and bushes, and with a big tree in the center, surrounded by grass, and circled by a white wooden table. and a dozen or so equally white chairs.

Erik dropped me onto the table, ripping my panties off me, pushing my feet up so that my knees were practically one my shoulders, and he started licking my bottom. Not just my clit and labia, but my upper thighs, my mons, and most thrilling of all, my asshole.

He has a long tongue. Believe me, Gene Simmons has nothing on Erik. It's almost penis on its own. I'm told that the tongue is one of the most powerful muscles, pound for pound, in the body. So, used as a penis...well, imagine a penis that's almost a tentacle, and that's what a big tongue is like.

He tongue-fucked my pussy and then he tongue-fucked my asshole, switching back and forth, and using his finger on my asshole when he was doing my pussy, and vice versa, he really had me going.

Now, he pulled me half off the table and turned me over so that my feet reached the ground and he flipped the lower part of my dress up over my back and fucked me hard in the pussy. When he's doing this, I just relax and get into it. I like him when he's an animal.

Of course, I knew what was coming, and sure enough he withdrew. He was getting ready to fuck my ass.

Before he did that, though, I wanted to taste his big cock, so I pushed him away and dropped to my knees in front of him, taking him into my mouth. He's big, and it's a strain, but I love that feeling, and I know exactly what he likes, which is about 1/3 deep throat and 2/3 glans sucking and licking. So, I gave him the blow job of a lifetime as he stroked my hair. His tap on my shoulder told me he would be coming soon if I didn't stop, and neither one of us wanted it to end that way (not that I'm the least bit shy about taking a big load in the mouth...I rather enjoy it actually).

I turned around and dropped into the low doggy position with my legs together and my boobs and shoulders touching the lawn. This position is the best position for anal sex because it opens up the cheeks, stretches the anus, and gets the leg bones out of the way. Using lubricant from my pussy, he wetted my asshole and then he was in like Flynn. He has a big, long cock and while he's not the biggest guy I've ever taken in the ass, he does it best and gives me gigantic orgasms every time.

Of course, the anus isn't designed as a sex organ. It's a case of "it's the thought that counts," and probably anal orgasms wouldn't be possible if our culture didn't fix in our mind that it's a dirty part of our body, which, or course, it is. So, one has to augment the rather strange and even painful experience of being fucked in the ass with some vivid thoughts and some masturbation, which is what I do.

I don't think I've ever enjoyed an assfuck more than that night, and it went on for quite a while. We changed position a few times and I'm sure we did it for at least a half hour when, by mutual agreement, we both went for it, achieving proximate, if not simultaneous orgasms.

When we were done, I squatted over his belly and let his jizz drain onto his tummy. I then sat down on the little puddle and rubbed it into his tummy with my crotch. We kissed some more and got up, tidying our clothes along the way.

We started to leave and Erik said, "I have to pee," and he walked over to a bush next to the entrance. I came over and kissed his neck, taking his dick out of his hand as he peed. Then, I pinched it off, stopping the flow, and got down onto my knees, where I unpinched his dick, and wiggled my tongue in the flow, taking a few sips of his piss.

"You're one dirty girl," he said with a laugh as he zipped up his fly.

And that I am...that I am.







Complete List Of Stories
In The Order They Were Written
I have been realizing that the blog has developed, shall we say, a navigation issue as it has grown. In order to make it easier to get around, I've created a chart listing the stories by name and in the order they were written. The day may come in the future when every story name here will directly link to that story, but for now, there are links which will take you to that page. When you go to each page, bear in mind that they are blog pages with the oldest story at the bottom and the newest one at the top. In other words, the reverse of the order they are listed here. For example, "The Story Of The Sad Girl" on Page 2 is the second story from the bottom of the page, not the second from the top. To go directly to a particular page click on the link on the story list page.

Click HERE for a complete story list
 ...
Jill Hill

JillHill@Nympho-Girl.com

I like sex. I like it in the pussy, in the mouth, and in the ass. If my ear canals were wide enough, I'd like it in the ear. Read here my adventures as a young woman of today with a sex drive of epic proportions and an exhibitionistic streak a mile wide.

I'm a young woman about 5'5" and 120 lbs. I'm a natural redhead and a certified nymphomaniac. I'll do it with a man, a woman, or a group. As a teen I worked in a stable of horses two summers. You can imagine how much fun that was!

I grew up near Cleveland, Ohio, but I now live in Portland, Oregon, in a downtown apartment near the Willamette River (and as the locals insist, it's not given the French pronunciation, but rather is pronounced to rhyme with "damnit").

I moved here with my friend and boss and frequent sex partner, Kelsey, to open up a branch office for the business services company we work for. I have a Bachelor in Business Administration, but I'm not all business: I love to read and write and this blog is one of my outlets.


You are on Page 1

To go to another page,
just click on the link:

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For a complete
list of stories and
the pages where they
may be found, click here.







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