So Wrong (the collected pornographica of Elsie)

It is a hot August night in New York City. It is very late. I am in a nameless bar on the lower east side, riding high on shrooms and cheap red wine. The bar is crowded and very noisy. I can’t hear myself think, and that is the way I want it.  I once again have the urge, in a very strong way.

I make my way through the crowd to the back of the room where a stairwell leads down to the bathrooms. Closing the door behind me, the stairway seems to extend downwards toward infinity, a black hole receding into the abyss. If I ever make it to the bottom, there is no way I will ever be able to climb back up.

I reach the bottom and go into the women’s room. A flickering fluorescent fucks with my already blurry vision. The walls are covered with hastily scrawled graffiti. The trash can is overflowing with used paper towels, plastic beer cups and tampon applicators. There are three toilets; no stalls or dividers between them. One of them is broken. It looks like it was attacked with a baseball bat. There are shards of broken porcelain and puddles of standing water on the floor.

A woman is sitting on one of the toilets. She is beautiful, tall and slender with shoulder-length blonde hair and glasses. She is at least ten years older than me. She is wearing a short black skirt and an old Ramones t-shirt. Her black panties are at her ankles, just above her red cowboy boots.

Our eyes meet. She seems to smile, and kicks off her panties. She nods, as if giving me permission.

I am on my knees between her thighs, her skirt hiked up around her waist. The word “DYKE” is tattooed in gothic capital letters across her bare pubic mound. She tastes tangy, a combination of sweat, urine, and sex. She is spreading her labia for me. She is getting excited. Her pink clit is poking out from its little hood. I start licking, slurping up and down her spread cunt. She wants me to concentrate on her clit. She is pulling my hair, hard. It should hurt, but I am only vaguely aware of the sensation.

She has lifted up her t-shirt, and pulled her bra down. She is playing with her nipples as I eat her, pinching, pulling and twisting them.

I am aware that another woman has entered the bathroom. I feel, rather than see, the look of surprise and shock, then curiosity and amusement crossing her face.

“You Want Some?” asks the woman who I am eating out. Her voice sounds oddly distorted. “She’s Really Good At It.”

“No thanks” the other woman says “I just need to pee.” I sneak a look at her. My impression is that she is fat, has red hair and is wearing blue jeans. I go back to work, slathering my tongue up and down the blonde woman’s pussy, occasionally circling her clit, but never concentrating on it, never staying, letting the tension and the frustration build..

The other woman sits down on the commode next to us. I can hear her pissing. The stream stops, and after a moment, she flushes. She slaps my pantied ass on the way out, hard. She tweaks my puffy outer lips through my panties, and laughs as I jump. “Have Fun You Two” she says, and leaves.

My blonde raises one leg, stretching it almost up to her ear. Her little brown asshole is exposed, puckered and tight. I attack it ravenously with my tongue, licking all around and into it. Her ass taste is earthy and musky. Her anus opens to swallow my probing tongue. She sighs “Yes, oh yes” I feel like my tongue is burrowing yards into her anus, like some long perverted snake. She is rubbing her clit as I rim her.

I want to make her come. I return my mouth to her pussy, nosing aside her busy fingers. I suck, lick, and gently nibble her clit. She is pulling me into her now, fiercely. I can’t breath, but I don’t care. I am probing her wet asshole with one finger, banging her pussy with my thumb as I lick her clit. I can’t go on much longer, I’ll pass out.

She comes with the violence of a summer thunderstorm. Silently, she spasms again and again, grinding my face into her cunt, squeezing me between her thighs. I can feel her pussy and asshole grasping me, drawing me inside. Gasping for air, I stay with her until she is done, struggling to keep my tongue on the hot button of her clit.  I can hear her breath coming in ragged gasps as she peaks, recedes, and peaks again.
She is gone. Her wetness is all over my face, and in my hair. My knees hurt from kneeling on the cold, wet tile. I have cut one knee on a sharp piece of broken toilet. The blood runs freely. I remember the original reason that I came down here, and realize that I have wet myself. The dampness on my thigh is my own urine.

The mushrooms are wearing off, the wine is making me sleepy. It is time to go home. I throw my ruined panties into the overflowing trash can, clean up as best as I can, and make my way back up to the street. I hail a cab, and manage to make it back to my own bed before I pass out.

I ask a boy that I have been dating to piss in my mouth after I give him a blowjob. He agrees to do it, but his bladder is shy, and he can’t make himself go. Soon after that, he breaks up with me.

A year later, I am riding the train, and I notice a woman looking at me. I think she is checking me out. She is tall and blonde, and wears a business suit. She looks familiar, but I don’t think I know her. As she is getting off the train, our eyes meet, and she licks her lips and blows me a kiss. I spend the rest of the day thinking about her, with moist panties and tender, swollen clit.  I can hardly wait to get home.

END

Blood and hell.

I sat, surly and silent by the window, plugged into my iPod, watching Long Island roll past.  I was hung over and premenstrual; dumped and depressed, and I had zero desire to be on that train.  Across from me, the Three Amigos drank bad beer out of cans and loudly goofed around with a stack of comic books and graphic novels, while in the seat next to me, Cecile was typing away into her laptop.  It had been a shitty old week.

Typical New York springtime: it was bleak and grey and unreasonably cold, and squalls of rain periodically lashed the train windows.  Liz had broken off our thing, whatever our thing had been, over the phone the night before.

My head hurt.  I felt bloated and nauseous.  I was crabby and crampy and felt like I was sweating whiskey.  A corporate retreat?  For fucking real?  Was this really my life?

Cecile was an ok manager, I guess.  By that I mean she mostly stayed out of our way and let us do our thing.  She did, of course, all the usual annoying managerial things:  scheduling boring pointless meetings, posting obnoxious motivational posters, sending redundant emails, and setting up mandatory weekend corporate retreats.

As a manager, Cecile may have been relatively inoffensive.  As a female, on the other hand, she was absolutely fucking gorgeous.  She was tall and slender, with perky boobs and short ash-blonde hair and flashing dark brown eyes, and strong cheekbones and an ass that was utterly gorgeous to behold. We all four had big fat crushes on her, the whole IT department: me and the Three Amigos.  Well, maybe in my case at least, ‘crush’ wasn’t exactly the right word.  More like a perverse case of deeply carnal lust.

That afternoon on the train, she was wearing a low-cut black blouse through which I could almost make out her nipples, and pair of ass-hugging pinstriped black slacks that emphasized the shapely curves of her rear-end.  When she leaned forward, I caught a glimpse of her underwear disappearing below the waistband of her slacks.  She was wearing a black g-string.  Ye Gods, butt-floss… How trashy!  How I would love to let my tongue explore those curves, every inch of those exquisite curves.  I bet she tasted a little like honey.  As the train clacked and rolled through the flatlands of Long Island, I once again marveled at my ability to be an utter horn-dog in the midst of black depression and premenstrual discomfort.

Whatever equilibrium I had found in my life had now come completely undone.  Liz and I had been not-exactly a couple for nearly six months, and now whatever we had been was over.  Just last week I’d gotten a job offer at a startup out in Seattle, with a salary that was a full order of magnitude higher than anything I’d ever made in my life: all that was required was that I drop everything and move across the country and start the job immediately.  I was drinking too much, my maybe-girlfriend was now officially my ex, my period was running late and my ovaries were kicking me in the small of the back.

All I had wanted to do this weekend was to stay home, drink excessively, watch porn, masturbate a lot, and feel sorry for myself.  Cecile had sprung this corporate retreat on us.  “It’ll be a great team-building experience.  We’ll have fun!”

Uh-huh.  It was still spitting rain when we got off the train, and crowded into a taxi which took us through bleak and deserted streets to a looming and ominous grey beach house that looked like the set for a teeny bopper horror flick.

Cecile had brought wine in a box.  We ordered pizza and huddled in a little circle in the enormous draughty living room gobbling and guzzling.  My spirits rose incrementally.  Cecile wanted to do team-building exercises, but the Amigos (Ron, Tim and Marty) had brought along a Wii, and she was heartily voted down.  Cecile put up only a half-hearted resistance before joining in.  A couple of times during the evening, I thought I caught her giving me a look.  I went to bed late, half-drunk, with a full stomach, a cranky pussy, and a heart full of lust.

The weather was even worse the next day.  Wind and rain whipped the dunes and rattled the windows and churned up the surf.  I got my period overnight, and was bleeding like a ruptured aorta.  My body heaved a huge sigh of relief.

We all had breakfast together at a little diner full of sour-faced fishermen, old people, and canned 1980s pop music.  The boys had heard tell of a video-game arcade on the boardwalk that was supposedly open, and they braved the raging tempest to go investigate.  Cecile and I returned to the house.

“Is it true what they say about you?  That you like girls?”  She was standing way too close to me for comfort.

Well, duh.  It’s not like I made any secret of it.  And I also knew for a fact that Cecile was dating, and was practically engaged to some investment banker guy.  This didn’t stop me one instant from falling across her lap on the disreputable old beige couch, and planting a kiss right on her lips.  She responded immediately, aggressively kissing me back with her soft full lips, invading my mouth with her eager tongue

Together, our rushed, fumbling fingers managed to unbutton her white blouse and to remove her frilly white bra.  Her breasts were smaller than mine, and much more perfect: snowy white half-globes like ripe peaches, with upturned little pale pink nipples.  The nipples were really tiny, almost like boy nipples, and they were all turned-on and erect; the areolae around them were pink and puffy.

I kissed her all over her face and neck, working my way down to her collarbones, her spine, her scapula, her sternum.  Cecile was highly appreciative, squirming and moaning in response to my licks and kisses.  Then I finally got around to lavishing attention on her beautiful tits and sucking on her nipples.

She let me play for a little while, my mouth full of the most gorgeous titty I had ever had the pleasure of sucking on, my hand rubbing her inner thighs and hot pussy through her black slacks.  Then she gently pushed me away.

“I want to see you naked” she said, eyes sparkling with mischief.

Those eyes seemed to bore holes right through me.  Feeling slightly self-conscious, I peeled my own t-shirt off over my head and unsnapped my bra.  Cecile grinned slightly at the sight of my naked breasts.  I shrugged off my jeans, leaving my panties –nothing fancy, just basic white panties- on for now.  The grin on her face got wider.

“God, I want you” she said, stretching languidly on the beige couch like a cat.

I dove right in, attacking her with kisses, nibbles, and licks as I struggled to get her pants down.  Underneath her charcoal-grey slacks, she was wearing a forest-green thong that was so skimpy it was barely even there.  I could feel the heat of her excitement.  I tugged the thong out of the way, and with a flick of her ankle she sent it flying.

Her legs spread wide, inviting me in.  She had one of those ‘exclamation-point’ pussies, straight out of Penthouse Magazine: a neatly trimmed little brown landing strip.  Plump lips surrounded delicate labia which were peeking eagerly out.  She was highly excited, her juiciness attested to that.  One lick separated her inner lips, exposing her swollen clitoris.  Her taste was an incredible aphrodisiac to me.  I was right, she did taste a little bit like honey.

It didn’t take much licking to bring her off.  Just dragging my tongue up and down her wet pussy, caressing her eager clit sent her right off on me.  She came loud and hard, bucking against my slippery face and wrapping her long legs around my head.  I kept on licking.

I’m not sure exactly how many times she came.  Three at least.  Probably more.  It was hard to tell where one orgasm stopped and another began.  At one point I was fucking her pussy with three fingers while I admired her naked, sweaty, quivering body.  Her stomach was flat and toned, she must work out a ton, and every time she came, her abdominal muscles went tense and she lifted her ass up off the couch.  I slid one finger between her heavenly butt-cheeks, seeking out her secret little rosebud-

“No, not the anal thing!” her eyes flew open and she pulled away, “Do what you were doing before.”

Not the anal thing?  But seriously, that was like half the fun…!  Reluctantly, I retreated from Cecile’s gorgeous ass and concentrated on fucking her hot, juicy pussy with my fingers while I stabbed at her clit with the tip of my tongue.  She came for me once again, squeezing my fingers in her quim, writhing and twisting on the couch.  She was so sexy it was almost painful.  I couldn’t believe how many orgasms she was capable of.  The woman just kept coming!

Panting, I crawled up onto the couch with her, sweaty breast to sweaty breast, kissed her on the mouth.  Her exploring hand wound its way inside my panties, probing.

“It’s my time of the month,” I explained apologetically.  She hastily withdrew her finger.  There was a tiny rose-colored stain on her fingertip.  My cunt was soaking wet.

“The guys will be getting back soon” she said, “We should hurry up and get dressed.  I’ll take care of you some other time, promise.”

Upstairs in the shower, my pussy felt swollen and thick.  The water took forever to run hot.  I stood there in a pool of bloody water straight out of Psycho, wishing I’d brought my vibrator.

Turns out Cecile was right.  While I was still in the shower, the guys came tumbling back in, totally psyched about the vintage video arcade they had just blown about sixty bucks worth of quarters in.  I kind of wished I’d gone with them.

We spent the afternoon doing team-building exercises that were supposed to be ‘fun’.  Me and the Amigos would far rather have been playing D&D.  We were techies, not corporate drones.  Cecile stifled all our attempts to pervert her activities, and assiduously avoided looking me in the eyes all day long.

Dinner was an oddly formal event, second-rate seafood at a third-rate seafood restaurant.  We suffered through a round of drinks while Cecile gave us her prepared pep-talk, and then we all slunk back to the beach house, sullen and damp.  If this was supposed to build morale…

The boys got the Wii fired up and huddled around the tv in the living room with a stock of Fritos and Mountain Dew.  I would have joined them, but I was too tired and fed up.  Cecile and I went upstairs to our bedrooms.  Our own separate bedrooms.

I lay there for a long time, unable to sleep, brooding, cramping.  My girl parts were all tied up in knots.  Sometimes orgasms would help, but when I tried to masturbate, I just couldn’t get into the groove.  Outside, the weather, which had been crappy all day, was getting worse.  The rain lashed the windows and the wind seemed to shake the bones of the house.  Behind the noise of the storm, I heard or felt the beat of the wind-lashed waves pounding on the beach.  I got up out of bed and padded down the hall.

I stopped in front of Cecile’s room.  Light leaked out from the crack under the door.  Standing still, listening for a moment, I could hear the familiar distinct hum of a battery-powered vibrator.  I hesitated, considered knocking lightly and letting myself in, and then thought better of it.  I continued on down the hall to the stairs.

The Amigos were still clustered around the tv set in the living room, raucously playing Wii like a troop of baboons.

Outside, the night was wild.  My night clothes: a pair of red flannel boxers and a Princess Leia t-shirt, were instantly soaked, clinging wetly to my skin.  My hair blew wild in the wind, like the rent sails of a ship lost at sea.  It was exhilarating.

Down past the dunes, onto the beach itself, the surf was pounding wildly onto the beach, beating the sand.  I don’t know how high the breakers were, six, eight, ten feet?  The frothy foam seemed to glow slightly in the dark of the night.

A momentary break in the flying clouds revealed the moon low over the horizon, perfectly full, round and heavy, casting its light across the storm-churned ocean and the beach.  In the soft light of the moon, I saw a figure down by the edge of the sea.

She was a selkie, a water sprite, and she was playing naked in the breaking surf.  Her hair was twisted up in dreadlocks, and her ears were pierced with large spiral forms.  She was a tiny slip of a thing, well-muscled with long arms and legs that splayed out as she leapt and spun.  Her breasts were small and firm and bounced as she ran.  Her ass was pale and nicely shaped and jiggly, with a small tattoo on one cheek that I couldn’t quite make out.  A lush brown triangle of pubic hair sprouted from between her legs.  She would tease the waves, running out as far as she dared, then darting back to the beach as the foam hissed angrily around her ankles and calves.

Mesmerized, I peeled my wet clothes off my body.  The wind snatched the shorts and t-shirt from out of my hand and sent them reeling away into the darkness.  Naked, I made my way down to the water’s edge.

When she saw me, she came running over.  She was beautiful: petite and lithe, all toned muscles and feminine curves, and a smile that flashed in the gloaming light.

She took my hand, and together we ran along the beach, in the firm wet sand.  Our footprints were quickly erased by the bubbling surf that foamed up over our feet and ankles.

I’m not sure how far we went, but it was a good long while.  We shrieked and giggled like little girls when the waves threatened to catch up with us; we danced in the wind and rain like a couple of pagans.

We ended up at a boat launch, where in calm weather people would back their boat trailers down a cement ramp to put them into the water. Near the top of the ramp, just out of reach of the grasping waves was a dilapidated old boathouse.  The door was closed, and there was a padlock in the hasp, but the lock hung open.  The huge pale moon peeked out from behind the clouds again, and she gave me a great, broad smile, opening the door and slipping inside.

The inside was dry and bare, broad naked planks and two canoes and a dinghy up on stands.  She pulled me in after her, and we tumbled onto the wood floor, kissing and touching.

She kissed me fiercely, pulling me close to her cool, naked skin.  Her smallish tits felt hard pressed up against mine.  She had wide, brown areolae, and her nipples were excitedly erect.  She had furry armpits, which I found incongruously erotic.  She wrapped her legs around mine, humping up against my thigh as we made out.  Her hand found my already hard nipple, tweaked it, making it stand out even more than it was already, and then she was reaching down, down, snaking inevitably down toward my horny pussy.

I stopped her, taking her hand in mine.  “I should warn you,” I whispered, “I’m on the rag.”

Her hand did not stop.  “It’s ok,” she whispered back, deftly plucking out my tampon and tossing it aside, “a little blood never hurt anybody.  Besides, I am too.”

It was true.  There was a already a red smear on my thigh where she had been humping my leg.  She guided my hand to her own pussy, and it was wet, really wet.  Really really fucking wet.

We fingered each other’s sopping-wet pussies for a little while, kissing deeply and mashing our bodies close together as we rubbed and probed.  Her hands felt amazing on me, filling me, teasing me, tormenting me.  I felt like I was lying in a puddle of my own making.

I really loved fucking her with my fingers, and I loved the way her body responded.  I loved seeing the mixed blood and come all over my hand.  It looked delightfully, viscerally erotic.  “I want to eat you,” I said, and she grinned wide, disengaging herself from me and rolling over onto her tummy on the wide wooden planks and wiggling her bottom invitingly.  “Go right ahead” she said.

On her left butt-cheek were the twin jagged waves of the zodiac sign for Aquarius.  That was the tattoo I couldn’t make out before.  I cupped her cheeks in my hands, spreading them apart like a juicy ripe peach.

There was soft, curly hair between her legs, slick and wet.  I admired the view from behind for just a moment before diving in, pressing my face into her ass.  Her cute little butthole was absolutely begging to be licked, so I obliged it.  With my face buried in her ass, my tongue probing her sensitive nether hole, I was in heaven, drunk on the strong musky essence of her.  She tasted like the ocean.

My tongue slurped, licked, and explored her pliant asshole while I kept my thumb firmly on her hard little clit.  It gave me great pleasure the way she squirmed and whimpered to my ministrations.  I couldn’t believe how fucking wet she was.  Or how wet I was.  Her various juices were all over my face, and I felt like I was positively dripping!

I felt her raise her ass, pressing urgently back against my face, and I knew she was coming.  Not daring to stop to breath, I doubled my efforts, drilling up her asshole with my curled tongue, moving my thumb across the button of her clitoris like a vibrator.  Her moans turned into cries, the gyrations of her ass became urgent, spasmodic thrusts, humping violently back against me as her stomach heaved and her body bucked and shivered.  She came so loud I was afraid someone would hear and come investigate.  I stayed with her until the very end.

At last, I withdrew my aching tongue from her gasping asshole.  Her pussy sighed with tired delight.  She rolled over with a happy giggle, grabbed a fistful of my hair, and kissed me hard, smashing her lips against mine, invading my mouth with her tongue, playfully biting my lip.

She kissed her way down my body, nibbling on my ears and my neck, planting butterfly kisses all over my breasts, letting her fingertips explore my stomach, my shoulders, my arms, back and thighs.  The she gently spread my thighs apart and dragged the tip of her tongue down from my navel through my pubic patch, and down between my swollen, horny lips.

When she oh-so-softly touched my clit with the tip of her outstretched tongue, I absolutely  melted.  She grinned, and let her tongue explore further south.  Everything she did felt exquisite.  I loved feeling her tongue and her fingers on my sex.  I could see my blood on her face, and rather than feel self conscious about it (as I had in times past), it only made me hornier.

She fucked me, hard and deep.  I felt her insert fingers into my cunt, how many I could only guess, and then insistent fingers penetrated my asshole, stretching me deliciously.  She had her way with me, fucking me, pounding me from the front and behind.  I let my body surrender to her.  I wanted more, and I wanted harder, and she gave it to me.

With my asshole and my cunt stuffed full of her long, clever fingers, she once again applied that talented tongue of hers to my swollen, distended clit.  All the tension that had been building in me, the frustrating sex and masturbation, the period cramps, the work crap, everything burst out like a dam that had been dynamited.  I exploded all over her face, writhing in glorious agony as I came and came and came, my body shaking, my mind washed over and over in waves of exquisite pleasure.

She held me for a while, and we listened to each others’ heart beat, the sound of the waves, the wind on the boathouse.  I was too happy and content and tired to say anything or move a muscle.

At last she kissed me on the forehead and got up.  She slipped out the door and out into the night.  I lay there for a long time before I realized she wasn’t coming back.

By the time I got up, dawn was threatening to rise in the east, turning the sky a kind of milky grey.  It was a long, light-headed walk back to the beach house.  I was fortunate not to run into any early-morning joggers or fishermen, but the fact was I didn’t really care.

The storm had abated overnight; it was still windy and there were still squalls of rain, but the main fury had blown itself out.

Cecile was up, making coffee in the kitchen.  The look on her face when she saw me let myself into the house; naked, bruised and scratched from the floor of the boathouse, caked in sand and smeared with dry black blood; was indescribable and priceless.  I went upstairs, took a long hot shower, and than slept incredibly hard for about three hours, until it was time to catch the train back to the city.

Back on the LIRR, I sat and listened to my iPod and watched the flat, grey mediocrity of Long Island roll by.  Cecile was sitting across from me, working in her laptop and pointedly ignoring me.  The Amigos had started up a rousing game of Magic: The Gathering, and were completely oblivious to anything else around them.

I wondered who Liz was fucking now.  Some gullible NYU undergrad with big tits and a trust fund?  One of those hipster boys that she used to like to look at with bushy sideburns and skinny black jeans?

I thought about my cramped little apartment with the bathtub in the kitchen.  I remembered my empty refrigerator, and all the whiskey bottles in the recycling.

‘Screw it’, I thought to myself, crossing my legs and savoring the delicate buzzing tenderness down there, ‘I am SO out of here.’

END

A blind date. So it had really come down to this? I mean I knew I was a lifeless dweeb and all: my hobby is fixing things that were never meant to be fixed, but a blind date? Really?

The tip of the soldering iron looked huge in the magnifying glass, and it trembled slightly as I worked. The 48-pin connector I had clamped in place with alligator clips filled my field of vision like the surface of the Death Star. Almost there…

True enough, I hadn’t been out on a date since I’d moved to this city. True enough, I was working two jobs: days in a bike shop, evenings at the computer lab, helping undergraduates un-crash their machines and recover their homework. True enough, my plans for the weekend consisted of a bottle of wine, internet porn, and a circa-1985 x386 pc-clone that refused to boot. Why the heck not? Maybe it’d be fun.

Maria had offered me Saturday off, paid, if I went. She said I deserved it. She said we’d get along great. Maria could be very convincing when she chose to be.

One more pin to solder. Almost there…

Fuck, I was late already. I carefully replaced the soldering iron in its cradle (you only drop that thing in your lap once!) and switched off my halogen work light. Fuck, did I have time for a quick shower? Yes, I’d make time. Fuck, did I even have any clean underwear? Screw the underwear: I’d go commando, make do with a clean(ish) pair of jeans and t-shirt.

By the time I left the apartment I was already fifteen minutes late, and I was ten blocks from the bar where we were supposed to meet. I thought ruefully of the state of my bedroom, hoped I hadn’t left anything embarrassing lying out. Not like it mattered; I wouldn’t be bringing anyone home. It was just a first date. A blind date.

***

I had met Maria two weeks ago for a cup of coffee. She had been telling me about this “cute” guy she had working for her. At first I thought she had a crush on him, and talking to me about it was her way of trying to remain faithful to her new hubby – her third – until she told me point blank she was setting us up. I cringed. More often than not she and I had very different tastes. Plus I had gone through so much lately; I just wasn’t really in the mood to date. But she had a way of making you agree to anything just to get her off your back.

I sighed deeply, my breasts looking like they were about to fall out of my sweater, and ordered another drink.

So here I was sitting at a bar I did not know, nursing a second beverage and asking myself if I was about to be stood up. I wore, a red sweater that I had paired up with a form fitted dark denim skirt and the sexiest stilettos I had in my arsenal. I wanted to look my best, you just never know. The fine cashmere and silk blend hugging my curves, stretched as I sighed yet again. After this drink I was leaving. I waited for no man. In fact I was tempted to just down this one and depart.

I felt a tentative tap on my shoulder. I turned and under the slovenly exterior that greeted my first glance – I saw the most intense green eyes I had ever come across. What was shocking was the intense loneliness and hidden hope.

I felt a certain moistness, and my cock rise between my thighs.

****

I was late. Late late late! I considered turning around and walking out of there, going home and masturbating and getting drunk, my standard Friday night modus. Thing is I’d never hear the end of it from Maria. The woman has a very forceful personality.

How was I supposed to recognize this woman anyway? I nudged my way through a knot of hipsters toward the bar. The music here was too loud, the place was too crowded. I didn’t belong here.

Oh shit, that had to be her. And I was seriously underdressed.

A beautiful woman in red and black: fair, nearly translucent skin, delicate hands with long fingers, and an angelic face.  She was idly toying with a nearly empty martini glass. She was shorter than me, and quite busty, a fact that was accentuated by her form-fitting sweater. She looked like she was dressed for a fashion shoot. And I looked like a schlub. She tapped her high heels impatiently and stirred the remains of her drink.

Against my will, I felt my dick swell as it hung unrestrained in my baggy jeans. Christ, she looked like a model! Ok, not an anorexic-skinny model, but still… I was in deeply over my head. What I should really do is go home now, I thought, go home and lube up the Excel and dream up some excuse for Maria tomorrow.

I swallowed and stepped up behind her, raised my arm and tapped her on the shoulder. She swiveled on the barstool and I felt her flashing brown eyes upon me, appraising me, summing me up. My treacherous penis was threatening to become a full-on erection.

“Hi” I said, feeling like an asshole, “I’m sorry I’m late. Can I … can I, um, buy you a drink?”

***

Good thing Maria had warned me that he’d be a “fashion disaster” and not to judge this book by the cover. She was correct, there was indeed no style there and I wasn’t even sure if everything he wore was fresh. I could feel my nose wiggling trying to at least assess if he had showered. But she had also been dead on regarding his looks. He was very, very cute. By his shy demeanor, he was adorably and utterly oblivious to that fact. That made him all the more attractive.

“Sure, Apple Martini if you don’t mind. I know it’s a really girlie drink but they are good”. I said watching him trying to politely squeeze in next to me.

“I was worried you were going to stand me up.” He opened his mouth to explain … I quickly cut him off.

“I almost didn’t show up either … don’t worry about it. In my mind I was thinking three martinis and then go home. I am actually glad you came. Maria was right … you are cute.” I saw his face flush a deep red and his ears were burning crimson.

He ordered the drinks and settled into some small talk. I revealed my profession as a social worker, leaving out my specific field of support. He talked about his move, leaving out the reasons for it. I sensed a woman might have had something to do with it. We both danced around the really personal issues avoiding revealing too much too soon. We obviously both carried a lot of baggage, but that in itself gave us some common ground and we did get progressively comfortable.

Before long, I was on my fourth Martini, my cut off if I don’t want to be hammered and wake up the next day with yet another regret to note in my diary. I felt warm, and at ease with him. Once he relaxed he was rather charming. Frequently blushing when complimented, passionate about helping others, obviously stuck in life and not sure what to do or where to go. I had to admit it. I liked him. He wasn’t a stray puppy – more like a stray wolf. Yes I liked him, and of course…. that meant a potential problem.

He tried to say something but the noise in the club had gone up a few more decibels. I shook my head to show him I had not heard. Leaning in, he moved my hair carefully with trembling fingers away from my ear. My body quivered in delight and the blood rushed to my balls and nipples. He shouted a little too loudly “You want to go someplace more quiet??”

He stood there, like a big, terrified of rejection teenager. I counted my heart beats pounding in my head. 1 – 2 – 3…. and nodded.

***

Three beers and I was lit. Not exactly shitfaced, but sober by no stretch of the imagination either. After I blurted it out, I immediately regretted it. I stood there next to her at the bar for a long moment, feeling like a complete doofus. Which, I supposed, I really was.

And then she nodded her head, stood up, grabbed her handbag. I felt a flood of relief. I paid our tab, tipped WAY more than I could afford, and together we made our way through the wall of hipsters to the door.

It was cool outside, and much quieter. She was giggling and stumbling a little in her heels; I was quiet and nervous. If this date was going anything like the way it now looked to be going… Well it had been a very long time, and nothing in this life is ever simple.

There was no discussion about where we were headed, we just walked. We just happened to find ourselves walking the ten or so blocks toward my apartment. She put her arm around my waist to steady herself, and we walked like that together. She smelled nice, like an expensive perfume. Her closeness and warmness felt really good and made my cock strain and chafe against the denim fabric of my jeans. She did most of the talking as we walked, and I was relieved to discover that, despite her exterior looks, she was hardly a prissy girly-girl.

Finally we stopped. We were standing in front of my apartment building, a shady-looking old 6-story brick tenement.

“Well…” I said, “This is my place.”

She giggled and detached herself from around my waist. “Yes, I had guessed that it might be.”

“Would you… Would you like to come up?”

“Yes” she said, a little hesitantly, “I think I’d like to come up. Just for a little while.”

On impulse, I reached over and kissed her. She kissed me back, hard and hot. Her lips felt amazing. I moved in closer to her, keeping my lips pressed against her plump cherry ones. I knew she could feel my straining hard-on through my jeans. She opened her mouth and let my tongue explore her. Our tongues met, and electricity coursed through us. I felt her hand on my ass. I put my arm around her shoulder, pulling her in closer to me, squishing her big soft breasts against my chest.

Like a pair of teens, we stood there on the sidewalk, making out in the harsh light of mercury-vapor streetlights. A passing car honked and hooted, and at last she broke off the kiss. “Maybe we should continue this conversation upstairs.” she said with a seductive little smile.

***

I liked the way his body felt against mine. He was warm and welcoming. His lips were eager and yet, he wasn’t sloppy. His tongue didn’t try to play tag ball with my tonsils and his hands remain polite – if just on the verge of indiscreet.

My nipples were achingly hard. In fact there was a lot that was hard. As we walked up the stairs I braced myself for the potentially magic killing phrase “Oh by the way – That lump in the front of my panties?  It’s a dick, and it’s really hard just for you”.

I sighed. He looked at me then and whispered “You alright? We don’t have to … I mean ….” I just smiled as sweetly as I could, swatted his ass and told him to get a move on. I was acting a little more playful than I felt.

His place was as much a mess as he was. I couldn’t believe it. I had seen a few bachelor pads in my day but damn it, this was beyond messy. I wondered if it reflected his state of mind.  I was about to unleash something on him and looking at the place, and him … suddenly I felt unsure he would be able to handle it.

He hastily tossed a load of cleanish clothing in a pile, blushing all the time.  “Coffee?” he asked trying to find something to do with himself.

“Yeah sure … not a bad idea”.  He wandered off into the tiny kitchenette and with trembling hands he went about making a decent cup of joe.  I looked at the details around me.  Half his belongings it seemed were still in boxes.  There were electric bits all over the place, wires and such littered the floor and every surface.  I felt like I had accidentally walked into the sorcerer’s lair. The day bed in the corner of the small adjacent room was surprisingly large and the sheets looked clean.  Well … at least that.

I was about to get up and join him when I saw it then … there on a small pile of books that seemed to double duty as the nightstand … a black dildo.  My jaw dropped. Not just any dildo – that was the Nexus Excel! Not the Aneros for beginners – this was a little more …hard core.

I went to it – drawn like a moth to a flame and picked it up.  I turned around holding it in my hand, and with the sweetest smile I could muster, just raised an eyebrow.

***

The mess… Oh god, the mess! The moment I had let us into the apartment, I realized what a dump the place really was, and I strenuously, achingly wished that I had done a little clean-up. I really hadn’t expected to be bringing anyone home.

I cleared off the kitchen table while the coffee brewed. A Commodore 64, a set of metric torque drivers, my neighbor Claudia’s defunct VCR… “Do you take milk and sugar?”

“A little milk, no sugar” she replied from the bedroom. Oh god, the bedroom… I prayed that I had at least changed the sheets. I honestly couldn’t remember. The erection in my pants ached, and there was no way now it was going away on it’s own. I needed stimulation. The kind of stimulation that nice girls don’t necessarily provide. I prayed to whatever gods of sex there are that she wasn’t one of those ‘nice girls’.

“I’m sorry about all the clutter,” I said, bringing two mugs of hot coffee into the bedroom where she was sitting on the edge of the (clean sheets!) bed. “It’s just that I’m a bit of a pack-rat, and I like to fix things that are broken…”

My voice trailed off into an unfinished sentence when I saw what she was holding in her hands. At least I knew for a fact THAT was clean!

She arched one eyebrow exquisitely.

“Oh boy. You know, I really wasn’t expecting company tonight. The truth is, you know… the fact is I’m a bit of a freak.”

A tiny little smile played on her face. “Do tell.”

Setting the mugs down, I blushed and stammered. “Well the thing is… the thing is that I’m unable to achieve orgasm… What I mean is I can’t get off, physically can’t –it’s incredibly frustrating- without, ah, direct stimulation to my prostate.” I felt red and hot and awkward. This was where she would make her more-or-less graceful hasty exit. The erection in my jeans throbbed mercilessly. It would continue throbbing unabated until I was able to stick that Nexus (or some similar object) up my butt.

“Oh, is that all?” she smiled prettily. “Jeez, I thought you were going to tell me something really shocking. That doesn’t sound like an all bad condition to me… As a matter of fact, I think it might be kind of fun.”

She stood up and gave me a hug. A big hug, a big close warm hug.

We kissed again, and this time she reached down and grabbed the package that was protruding from the front of my jeans. “Mmm… VERY nice!”

I ran my hand down her sweater, feeling the soft fullness of her breasts. My hand continued it’s path down the front of her denim skirt. It was there that I encountered a lump I hadn’t been expecting to encounter. A very prominent lump. My hand stopped there for a moment, and then continued it’s path down to her naked thigh, where I stopped and squeezed her warm flesh. It felt good to touch her, though I was no longer completely sure she was a ‘her’; and I wasn’t completely sure what to make of that.

“Are you… are you a transgendered person?” I asked softly.

She looked up at me, a scared vulnerable look on her face. “No,” she said, “Just a freak. I’m a girl, one hundred percent female… except for the equipment between my legs. I was born this way. I’m a mutant.”

I kissed her again, and squeezed her close, letting the lump in her skirt rub deliciously against the lump in my own jeans.

***

He was still there.  My heart beat faster, my cock got harder, my breath caught in my throat as I kissed him with more vigor.  Not only was he still there, but he was holding me tightly, desiring me, wanting me. His lips tasted sweeter than before and a sense of giddiness filled my entire body.

I let my hands caress his body, my fingers finding their way under his shirt I was surprised to find satin smooth skin.  He wasn’t an athlete but he had a natural slenderness to him that was pleasing.  I found myself begging him breathlessly to take his shirt off.

He complied and I took his hand, pulled him towards me.  Together we stumbled onto the bed.  He lay next to me – and this time let his hands wander all over my body.  He seemed to enjoy teasing me as his touch remained above my clothing.  It was maddening and thrilling all at once.  I knew my face was flush, I could hear my own moans escape from my lips. I was losing control and I no longer cared.  Not one bit.

I let myself relax into it. He had not asked me to leave. He had not asked for more explanation or about the “how” I or he would or could engage in intercourse.  No.  He had simply accepted me – as a her – and as I was. No odd moment of adaptation … nothing.  Could he be real? Or was I at home again, half drunk jerking off in an alcohol induced haze?

His lips on mine as his hand finally made their way under my top made this reality crystal clear.  I had never wanted anyone so completely.

***

My hands underneath her top found her large, shapely breasts and she sighed and pressed her hot body against mine. Her bra was definitely getting in the way.

Hands trembling, I pulled the red sweater off over her head, and went to work on the bra clasp. My head reeled, drunk with the combined effects of alcohol, lust and– dare I think something beyond pure animal lust? Affection, more…?

It had been a really long time since I had been with a girl. Before I had moved to this city in fact.  My neighbor, Claudia, had seemed at least potentially interested, but I hadn’t dared pursue that. My last encounter had been with a girl I’d met over the internet, a girl who called herself ‘Je33ica’, and who had claimed to be ‘up for anything’. That one had been particularly traumatic, and she’d said some pretty hurtful things, but really it had been the last in a long line of screwed-up miss-matches.

Back to the present situation: she took the matter into her own hand, unsnapping her bra and letting it fall free. Her breasts were large, full, and beautiful. They were also, I was now certain, completely natural. The nipples were big and pink, and swollen hard, begging to be sucked. Which I did, with great pleasure. I loved the way her body felt in my arms, I loved the way she reacted to my touch, my kisses, my nibbles and sucks.

As I lavished affection on her breasts, she fumbled with the fly of my jeans. Good thing too, because I was about ready to burst my buttons. The pants came tumbling off, and my erection bobbed free, swollen, rock-hard and leaking with eagerness. She grinned hungrily.

“So you’re saying you can’t come without having something up your butt?” she asked, “Not at all?”

I nodded solemnly.

“Not even if I gave you a monster blowjob? You wouldn’t be able to get off?”

I nodded again.

Her grin got even bigger, and she grasped my swollen cock in one hand. Her grip was smooth and soft and firm. “I’m really going to enjoy this then!” she said, as she dove in.

I don’t know how long she sucked me, but it was exquisite. Every blowjob I’d ever had before had involved a girl attempting to prove me wrong, to bring me off with the talents of her mouth, a path that could only end in mutual frustration. She approached the matter like a connoisseur, like a gourmet at a buffet, taking her own pleasure in pleasuring me. She kissed and licked and stroked and swallowed me until I was incoherent, begging wordlessly on my back on the bed, my cock sticking straight up, feeling like it was about a yard long. She licked my balls and nibbled my inner thighs and slurped my length up and down before swallowing me entirely, squeezing my ass cheeks hard and drawing her nails up and down my flesh, only to bob up and, still grinning, start all over again.

The one part of my anatomy that could, and would, set me off like a freaking bazooka, she assiduously avoided. She knew it, and I knew it, and so far it made for the best sex I had ever had in my life. And she hadn’t even taken off her skirt yet.

“God you’re amazing!” she said at long last, pulling back and letting me flop wetly in the night air. She peeled off her dark denim skirt. She was wearing bright red lacy string bikini panties. The head of her dick peeked shyly out the waistband. Taking a deep breath, she peeled her panties down, tossing them aside. “God I want you!” she said huskily, her eyes fixed on mine.

****

I really enjoyed giving head, I would have continued a lot longer but I had to admit that I had worked myself into a frenzy.

I stripped at last, and stood in my naked glory and watched in amazement as he took in what I had to offer. I saw something I never expected in his eyes, something I had always craved … intense desire – want. Not just lust, but this sense of “right”. His erection held, his smile had a sweet turn to it.

“You are way out of my league. You should be a model.  Shit you are hot… ” he whispered.

Standing on the edge of the bed, I watched him make his way towards me on all fours. I looked down and saw a glistening pearl of pre-cum sitting like a gift on the tip of my painfully erect member. Until this very day I had hated my cock – and then he wrapped his fingers expertly around the base, cradled my under sized balls in his hand and licked the drop off before taking me in.  Suddenly, with his tongue on my dick, I felt like I had been blessed.

I felt everything with tantalizing clarity and awareness. His hand now cupping an ass and the other pinching a nipple, I felt my desire mound and build and the moan I heard didn’t seem like my own … Deep lustful hunger. It stopped and I looked down to his smiling face.

“Always wanted to do that … How did I do?” He said grinning playfully.

In response I grabbed his hair and moved his lips back to their business. I felt him chuckle with a mouth full of cock. Was this happening? My heart felt light, my body on fire, my soul free. I was a mutant but one he “digged” and I felt stunning, beautiful and powerful.

“Stop … Please I am going to come ….” He let me pop out like a lollipop. I bent down, pushing him over and lay next to him. For a few languid moments I let myself come down a little, caressing his body, kissing him and enjoying not feeling odd in a mans arms.

He rolled over a moment, and with a gentle kiss, he proceeded to unwrap a condom, and sheath himself, then, he unwrapped another, and left it out for me – for when I was ready. The gesture was tender and almost … Loving.
*****

I reached down, gently stroking her cock, fondling her delicate little balls. She looked deeply into my eyes and then smothered me with a kiss full of passion and desire. My own cock strained impatiently inside the condom. Almost there…

I’d never actually sucked a cock before. Always been curious about it; never really had the chance. I’m attracted to girls, not guys. Life’s never simple, is it?

As we kissed, I idly stoked her cock, and she petted mine. At long last she broke off the kiss, guided my hand with her own: down past her cock, down below her balls. It was hot and wet and sticky down there. She spread her thighs apart for me.

“You could fuck me now if you want,” she said shyly, “It won’t make me come, but it’ll certainly feel nice.”

Her cock was a little shorter than mine, but noticeably thicker. She was uncircumcised, and the purple head winked at me from beneath the foreskin. She was copiously leaking pre-cum, long sweet sticky clear strands of it. There was a tidily trimmed triangle of pubic hair just above her dick; everything else was neatly shaved or waxed. Just below her delicate little ball sac, in the sandbar space above her crinkled brown asshole, her exquisite little vagina pouted wetly open like a baby tulip. It was perfectly formed and beautiful, lacking only the clit. At the top of the slit, where the clitoris would have been, was the base of her scrotum.

“Be careful of the balls,” she grimaced slightly, “They’re delicate. It’d probably be better if I were on my knees.”

When we got repositioned, she was on all fours on my futon mattress, and I found myself directly behind her, admiring the view. Her dick hung thickly down, her balls dangled loosely. Her little pussy drooled lustfully. She had a beautiful ass, shapely, china-white and smooth. I smacked it once: WHACK, and she wiggled her rear end invitingly. My hand left a red imprint on her butt cheek.

I positioned the end of my cock between her labia, nudged forward. “Oh! Gentle, gentle… I’m kind of small down there… go ahead, just go slow.”

She was hot inside, burning hot and soaking wet. Super tight around my dick, it took a long time for me to get all the way up inside. When I was finally all the way in, it was like my dick was wearing an undersized velvet glove. I wanted more than anything at that moment to fuck the daylights out of her, to come deep in her pussy. But I knew I couldn’t.

“Oh my god that feels good!” she gasped, “Go ahead and fuck me now!”

I did. It felt amazing. My cock was so hard it hurt. She was moaning and weeping, thrusting back to meet my jabs. I wet one finger and slid it up her asshole. The volume of her moans increased. Her butt gripped my finger tightly. Through her flesh, I could feel my dick sliding in and out of her vagina.

“Holy shit!” she growled over her shoulder at me, “You’re amazing! If you so much as touch my dick, I am going to shoot off so hard…!”

I reached around with my free hand to do exactly that, but she stopped me.

“No,” she said, “Not like that. I’d like to do you now… if that’s ok with you?”

It was SO ok with me! I was beyond ready.

***

He pulled out slowly, as if almost regretting. I felt empty yet my own cock was painfully in need of stimulation and my balls screamed for release. If I waited much longer this would turn from pleasure to pain – and not the good kind.

He lay on his back, his dick naked and pointing up at the ceiling. I was a little surprised, having expected him to just come over and take my place. But he didn’t. He leaned over and grabbed the condom, pulling me towards him playfully and eagerly, and with exquisite stroking rolled it tenderly onto my cock, sheathing me.

He cradled my balls lovingly a moment, and then reached over, squirted lube out of the dispenser on the little side table, and applied it to my cock, his own and copiously on his ass.

“You’re thick, so go easy ok?” He said huskily. His voice had dropped to a sexy base. It made me quiver to hear his need in his voice like that. It was beyond sexy.

I nodded. He then leaned back, and pulled his legs up, all the way up. I was left staring not at my usual vantage point of an ass, but at his cock, his balls and his little brown mark, he was presenting himself to me in a most intimate way.

I placed myself between him. My member hovered near his cock. I pressed gently against his anus. He hissed with pleasure and relaxed completely. Oh yes, he was indeed use to this kind of entry.

I looked down, and kissed him. He had put me in the position of control and I felt dominant, and striking. A first. I leaned in a little more. I felt the amazing tight ring of his anus give way, snap open and I sunk in, slow and deep.

“Oh shit shit … Yesssss” was all he could muster. Once inside I leaned in and he released his knees letting my shoulders hold them in place. His hand pinched my nipple as I started my slow and steady in … and … out.

I am not sure how long it took, a minute or an hour. Time was suspended and we were lost in each other. I felt every hair on my body, every nerve ending was alive and humming with desire. My balls stirred, his fingers pinched my nipples harder and harder in a silent crescendo. I knew he was close. I was beyond the point of release.  I felt the jism mount the entire length of my member and explode inside the condom buried deep in his tight ass. My coming and the scream of pleasure that came with it pushed him over the edge as my final erratic pumps sent him off as well, squirting his hot juice all over the both of us.

I trembled on my arms, suddenly unable to hold myself up….

***

She collapsed on top of me, gasping for air, her body limp and hot and sweaty, her breasts pressed up against my chest, my cum squooshing stickily between us.

We kissed a little bit, in a tired, affectionate way. There was no discussion: it was already decided- she was going to spend the night in my bed. It just felt right.

A little while later, we woke up enough to dispose of the condoms and to pull a blanket over ourselves. We fell asleep in each other’s arms.

At some point in the night, we both woke up again. I was hard once more; she was hard and wet. I went down on her. I held the head of her cock in my mouth and licked it like a popsicle while I fingered her pussy and her asshole until she came. Funny thing, I’ve tasted my own come before and I’m not crazy about it; but the hot, salty, bitter, slippery stuff that she squirted into my mouth was like nectar to me, and I devoured it hungrily, taking every last drop.

She returned the favor, enveloping my penis with her mouth while she fucked my ass deeply with the Nexus Excel, making me howl and moan until I came, my penis captured between her full red lips. Then we fell asleep again, limbs intertwined, bodies pressed wetly against each other, and neither of us stirred until sunrise.

I woke up early, as was my habit. As soon as the pale sunlight streamed through the narrow slit of my bedroom window, I was irrevocably awake. She was still asleep, beautiful and vulnerable and nude, snoring softly next to me. I extracted myself from her arms.

I got a pot of coffee brewing, and set to finishing up neighbor Claudia’s VCR. The capstan bearings were shot. That was an easy fix; getting hold of new bearings was the hard part. I had tried ordering them from a factory in mainland China, but it ended up being easier to mill new ones on my mini lathe.

Just as I was putting the last screws back into the cover plate, there was a soft tap at the front door. I pulled on yesterday’s jeans and answered the knock.

It was Claudia, of course, and she insinuated herself right in before I could make any excuses.

“I’m not coming by too early am I? Oh, awesome, you fixed my VCR! You’re amazing! I don’t know how I can thank you… Listen, I’ve got something else that is broken, I wanted to see if you could fix it.”

She held out a blue dildo, one of those rabbit things that vibrates and rotates and has its own separate clit tickler. “This stopped working on me last night, I wondered if there’s anything you could do…?”

Most likely the motor had burned out, and would need replacing. Either that or a broken solder connection. Either way, a reasonably easy fix.

As I stood there in the kitchen, contemplating the blue sex toy in my hand, Claudia said, “Oh excuse me! I didn’t realize you had company!”

Fuck. The best sex I had ever had in my life, the first woman I had connected with in a long long long time, the first woman I’d ever met who accepted me without question, this beautiful woman who I might very well be falling for, had just emerged from my bedroom wearing one of my t-shirts and (I was fairly sure) nothing else.

The look of shock and startled annoyance on her face slowly changed into a look of surprise and pleasure. “Claudia!?! What are you doing here? I haven’t seen you since college!”

“I live across the hall… what are YOU doing here?”

We all stared at each other for about seven seconds. Then all three of us burst out in raucous laughter.

END

(Written as a collaboration between myself and Fantasia Lillith)

I don’t remember a time before the labyrinth.  I don’t ever remember not being hungry.  All I can recall is dimly-lit corridors, stone walls and cold cement floors, and a terrible gnawing hunger.

I hated to sleep.  I needed to, from time to time, but I always woke up in a panic; lost and confused and disoriented, hungry and horny.

How many maidens had I devoured back in those days?  Hundreds, probably.  And it pains me now to admit this, but the fact is I raped an awful lot of them too.  I was a monster; I had this big, hard, needy thing between my legs, and fucking maidens with it felt really good.  They didn’t seem to enjoy it very much, but I didn’t think about that at the time; I really didn’t know any better back then.  They had a hole and I had a peg, and anyway I was going to kill them and eat them as soon as I was done.

It was always pretty much the same routine: a pretty young girl dressed only in a sheet wandering through the dusty passageways, sometimes tearful, sometimes not. Often by the time I found them they were all cried out.  Their faces would be blank and hopeless, staggering along lost in the dim flickering light of the fluorescents.

Sometimes I’d stalk them, letting them hear the echoing clap-clop of my hooves, letting them get more and more panicky and terror ridden until the whole labyrinth reeked with the scent of their fear; more often though I was just too impatient.  I’d lurk behind a corner, and then when I heard their footsteps close I’d pounce.

Usually they’d be frozen like little rabbits.  Sometimes I’d have to chase one a little ways.  It didn’t matter, chasing them was almost more fun.  It was no contest: under the best of circumstances I could run six times as fast as any of them, and they’d usually trip over their sheet or their sandals or just collapse in fright after a few steps anyway.

I’d come bellowing and snorting around the corner, rip the sheet of the maiden’s nubile young body; snort and stomp and throw her down on the ground.  I’d force her thighs apart, jam my thing up inside her, and hump her until I was satisfied.  Then I’d snap her neck and devour her flesh, sucking the marrow from every bone.  When I was finished there was nothing left but a pile of torn rags and shattered bones soon to be cleaned up by the daemons, and I was once again left wandering the maze, wracked with hunger and sporting a persistent erection that masturbation just wouldn’t satisfy.

After ages and ages of all this sameness, one maiden was different; and I owe her a debt of gratitude for awakening something deep inside me, a debt that can never be repaid.

Instead of wandering aimlessly through the long corridors, I found this one leaning up against the wall in the entrance corridor near the great front doors with an unlit cigarette dangling from her mouth, looking bored.  When I came bellowing around the corner, she looked up.

“You don’t have a light, do you?”

I shook my head ‘No’.

“Crap” she said, “Figures.”  She eyed the erection that was jutting straight out from my hairy crotch.  “Are you going to rape me or something?”

I snorted and shook my head ‘Yes’.

“You don’t have to, you know.  I mean, I guess you can if you want to, I sure can’t stop you.  You’re going to kill me afterwards, right?”

“Yeah” I admitted sulkily.

“Well shit,” she said, “It seems like the least you could do is show me a good time first.  Heck, you might like it better that way too.”  She smiled a coy little smile.  “I promise I won’t struggle.”

“Listen,” I said, scratching one of my horns against the stone wall, “I’m not exactly sure how this is supposed to work…”

“Here,” she said, “Let’s start this way.  Let me kiss it.”

Oh Ye Gods and Goddesses!  She secreted the unlit cigarette somewhere away (did those sheets they wore come with pockets or something?), got down on her knees and applied her pretty little mouth to my jutting cock.  I had never imagined that such pleasurable feelings were even possible!  I bellowed and snorted, and immediately felt weak in the legs.  I dropped down on my own knees, which made the maiden’s job a lot easier being as I stood about half again as tall as her.

At first she just licked and kissed it, from the purple crown down the shaft to my dangling balls.  The sensation was exquisite!  The girl looked up at me and grinned.  That may have been the first time I ever saw a human with a smile on its face.  She then proceeded to try and swallow me whole.

That didn’t go so well, though she certainly put a good amount of effort into it.  The peg was simply too big for the hole, try as she might. She settled for sucking on the head like a big plum while she stroked the shaft with both hands.  This got me snorting and snuffing, and rocking back and forth in time with her ministrations.

I was just getting close to that magical, glorious moment of climax when she stopped.  “Not yet, not like that!  I want to enjoy it too.  Let’s do the fun part now.”

I must have looked quizzically at her because she tossed her red curls impatiently.  “You know, do it to me!  We’re all supposed to be virgins, but the priests aren’t really all that picky when it comes down to it.”

She stripped off her sheet and layed it down in a neat square on the dusty concrete floor.  I knew the maidens were all pretty, but I’d never appreciated just how pretty until that moment.  She was petite and curvy and her body was smooth and pale and nearly hairless, except for a neat little red triangle of fluff where her thighs met.  Her breasts were bouncy and perky, her body was sleek and trim.

Her vagina was beautiful.  It was pink and excited, spread open, wet and ready for me.  I pressed the end of my raging cock against her wide-open entrance.

We tried for a while, but it just wasn’t happening; at least not without hurting her, and I wasn’t about to do that.  Still, we both enjoyed the trying quite a bit.  In the end though, it was too frustrating, and I just wasn’t going to fit inside.

We settled for me sliding my dick up and down the length of her vagina while she held her legs up near her ears.  Her slickness lubricated things nicely, and she looked sexy as hell like that, and it felt great!

“Yowsa!” Underneath my bulk she was clearly enjoying herself.  “Wow you’re big!  Oh, gentle, gentle… no, don’t stop.  Don’t you DARE stop!”

I was doing it as carefully and as gently as I could, trying to delay the inevitable as long as possible.  She was so sexy, and it felt so good.  I wished it could last forever.

“I’m going to come… I’m going to come… I’m coming!” she cried out underneath me.  I didn’t know exactly what that meant, but I had a pretty good idea.  I flushed with pride, and with my own impending orgasm, and with a new feeling that I could only have described as ‘tenderness’.

She started screaming, as if she’d been trampled under my hooves, and for a second I was afraid I had hurt her, but it became pretty apparent that this was a different kind of scream.  A good kind.

I gave in at last.  Abandoned gentleness, started rubbing myself against her wet slit hard and fast, surrendering to my own pleasure.  She sure didn’t seem to mind.  The harder I thrust, the more she writhed and moaned and encouraged me.  She wrapped her hands around my cock, pressing me hard against her wet pussy.  When I came, it rolled over me and through me in waves, more intense than it ever had been before, and I bellowed out and squirted the pearly white goo all over her: her stomach, tits, neck, face and pussy were thoroughly covered in my come.

We lay like that for a little while, both of us panting, me supporting my bulk on my elbows so I wouldn’t crush her.

She dipped her finger in, tasted it and licked her lips and giggled.  Hesitantly, I giggled back.

“You’re not going to kill me now, are you?”

“No,” I said, rolling over onto my side and gazing at her benevolently, “No, I wouldn’t do that.  I promise.”

“Ok.” She kissed me sweetly on the nose.  “Gods, but I want a smoke!”

I broke my promise.

That still has me messed up.  That’s the reason I see a shrink once a week and volunteer at a soup kitchen on the weekends and give more than we can afford to City Harvest.  My promise only lasted a few days.  I was hungry.  We were both hungry.  She discovered the trick of raiding the daemon’s private refrigerator, but left-over pizza and stale bologna sandwiches just weren’t cutting it.  We got each other off a lot, which helped take my mind off the hunger inside me, but whenever we weren’t actually fooling around, my stomach just wouldn’t shut up.

I tried to make it painless.  I don’t think she felt anything.  She was taking a nap after our latest bout, and I reached over, kissed her forehead once, and snapped her neck.

Up till then I had always relished the taste of human flesh.  She seemed to stick in my mouth, and I wept as I chewed.  But she was filling.

I have to admit I was kind of a dick after that.  I mean, I’ve always been a monster, but for a while, I was even worse.  I was hurting inside, and I took it out on the maidens.  I’d take pleasure in stalking them, holding back from the kill as long as I could stand while they panicked and ran from my invisible echoing hoof beats.  I gored them and trampled them and let them die slowly.  I was cruel, I was evil, and for that I am sorry.

As time passed by, my anger and my hurt faded.  For a while I became a vegetarian, but that didn’t work out so well.  The hunger gnawed and twisted my stomach; and my maidens just died of starvation and loneliness anyway.  After a century or so I went back to eating them, just like before.  I was the same old me, with the same terrible hunger, but I no longer felt the need to hurt.  And I didn’t rape anymore.  I jerked off all the time instead.  Masturbation was a poor substitute, but at least it didn’t leave me feeling empty and wrong.

One day is pretty much like any other in the Labyrinth.  There was a new maiden down there, somewhere, and I was stalking her.  I could smell her, I could hear her padding footsteps.  It was only a matter of time.

I didn’t bother prolonging it.  When I had finally located her, I just came around a corner, ready to make a meal of it.  She was walking slowly down the hall, carefully unrolling a ball of string.

When she saw me, this maiden stopped what she was doing and looked up.  “Huh!” she said, not dropping her ball of string, “I thought you were only a myth.”

That stopped me.  Partly just the fact that she was speaking to me: that was highly unusual.  No-one had said a word to me in centuries.  They mostly just screamed and ran in fear.  That was the other thing: she didn’t seem afraid of me at all, or disturbed by my monstrous appearance.  She reminded me of someone I had known once, many years before.

She was an unusual looking maiden.  She had a mass of curly dark hair, pale, almost translucent skin, a round face that was inclined to smile, and she was chunkier than most.  (This was not unattractive to me; oh my no, just the opposite!)  She was wearing blue jeans and a black t-shirt under her sheet, which was hardly a sheet at all, more of a cape-thingy.

“Hey, can I ask you a question?” She set the ball of string down.

“Huh?  Oh, sure.”

“Why are we supposed to be virgins?” she asked conversationally.  She didn’t seem even slightly afraid of me.  “I mean I’m really not one, if it makes any difference to you.  Those cretin priests sure don’t seem to give a shit, as long as you check the right box on the questionnaire, they don’t ask any questions.  But why would it even matter?”

She was right, that was a poser. “I don’t know” I said, “I don’t think it really makes any difference.  It’s just a tradition, I guess.”

“Huh.  I mean ‘virginity’ is a pretty elastic term, if you think about it.  But however you define virgin, I’m not one.”

“Listen,” I said, “Are you hungry?  I know where we can get a bologna sandwich.”

“Sounds delicious.  What’s your name anyway?”

“I don’t know,” I said, “I’m not even sure I have one.”

“Sure you do.  Everybody’s got a name.  Mine’s Emily.  What’s yours?”

I sat and thought about it for a little while, and then I realized that I was staring at Emily’s breasts, which were quite large and nicely shaped.  She caught me staring and kind of smirked and I think I actually blushed.  She had the prettiest smirk I’d ever seen.  I tried to concentrate.  I’d never had a name before, not that I knew of, so I made one up.

“Ferdinand,” I said at last.  I liked the sound of it.  “My name’s Ferdinand.”

“Well it’s nice to make your acquaintance, Ferdinand.”  She stood up on her tippy-toes and kissed me lightly on the cheek, making the erection that I had been fighting to keep in check swell and bob.  (Her kisses would always have that effect on me.  She always found that charming and quite amusing.)  “So…” There was a mischievous twinkle in her eye, “Weren’t you going to eat me or something?”

I started to protest, and then I realized that she was talking about something else entirely and then I did blush.

Emily pressed her warm curvy little body up against me, and my erection swung straight up, completely out of my control.  She grinned happily.  “Now that is impressive!  And to think I thought you were just a myth!”

I squeezed her tight against me, almost drunk with blissful desire.  “Listen,” I said, “When you said that about wanting me to eat you…?”

Her grin got even bigger.  “Go right ahead!”

She took a step back and proceeded to undress.  The cape-thingy fell in a crumpled heap on the dusty cement floor.  She peeled off her black t-shirt and unsnapped her bra (an invention I was unacquainted with at the time).  Her breasts were beautiful, full and large and round, with big crinkly nipples.  She smiled at me again, unsnapped the fastener on her jeans and wiggled out of them.  Her black bikini panties (again, I had never seen anything of the sort before) were next.  Between her thighs was a lush triangle of soft curly black pubic hair.  She let a finger slip between her legs.  It came back shiny and moist.

“You want me to lick you there?” I hazarded a guess.

“Oh yeah!” Emily said, “If you don’t mind, that is.  Gods and Goddesses, I can’t believe how fucking horny I am!”

“Me too!” I admitted, a little bashfully.

“I can tell,” she said, eyeing my hard-on.  “Don’t be shy.  Come on!”

I took her in my arms and lifted her up so that her legs were resting on my shoulder and she was able to grab a horn in each of her hands.  That put her pussy right in front of my mouth.  It was beautiful, furry and petite and pouting open like a blossom.  She smelled delicious.  Wetness was dripping off her purple nether lips.  It was intoxicating.  I tentatively stuck out my tongue and sampled her fruits.  I felt her shudder in my arms, so I did it again.  The wetness was everywhere now.

“Don’t stop!” she cried, “Zeus, that’s amazing!”

Encouraged by her encouragement, I didn’t stop.  I slurped up and down her pussy, licking all over, curling my tongue and sliding it inside her, dragging it up and down the length of her sex.  Emily rode me like a bronco, gripping my horns tight, grinding herself back at me in a perfect rhythm, meeting my tongue, rubbing that little nubbin near the top until she was actually screaming, a scream I instinctively knew was neither fear nor pain.

“Please don’t stop!” she gasped.  I didn’t stop until she sagged limply in my arms.

“That was fantastic!” Emily gasped.  “You know” she said coyly, “If you were to hold me upside down, I could probably do you at the same time as you lick me some more…”

I turned her over, and holding her gently by the waist, I slowly lowered her open mouth down onto my aching penis.  With a –glurk- she swallowed me whole.

The sensation was so amazing I forgot to lick for a little while.  I hadn’t felt anything like this in centuries!  Her mouth was so hot and wet; her tongue was doing incredible things to me.  I discovered the trick of lifting her up and down while she sucked, which only made the sensations more intense.  Then I remembered that I was supposed to be licking too, and Emily started moaning and gurgling as she sucked my cock.  Her pussy was soaking wet.  It was amazing.

“I’m going to come!” I suddenly bellowed out.

“MMM!! Mmm-hmm!” Emily responded, and I felt myself coming, shooting off, squirting into her hungry mouth.  She swallowed and swallowed until my limp cock slipped out of her mouth with a pop.

“Oh thank you!” I sputtered “Thank you so much!”

“My pleasure” she grinned from upside-down, “Listen, while you’re up there, would you mind…”

“Not at all!” I responded, and resumed my licking.  As I licked, she kissed and fondled my temporarily reduced cock and my dangling balls.  It was quite distracting.  I discovered the trick of applying just the tip of my tongue to her bulging clitoris (I didn’t know the name for it at the time, but I soon learned).  This drove Emily absolutely wild, and kicking her legs and whimpering and moaning for me all over again.

“Put a finger in my asshole!” she begged, and I was happy to oblige.  Somewhat to my surprise, that little crinkly hole accepted my big hairy finger.  It slid easily inside, where it was gripped by her body, hot and tight.  This just drove her wild, and did it nicely for me too.  I licked her pussy and her clit and toyed with her asshole with my finger until she came screaming again.  I still love feeling her orgasm with a finger up her ass.

“Wow!” she said, when I set her gently down again on her disheveled pile of clothes. “That was intense Ferd.  Hey, didn’t you say something about a bologna sandwich before?  I’m so hungry I could just kill!”

Emily got dressed again, which I found nearly as sexy as watching her get undressed.

We raided the daemon’s fridge, chowing down on stale Wonder bread and lunch meat.

She eyed my penis, which had become hard all over again in the meantime.  The hunger was never far away.  “You really are a monster!” she said, and grinned.  That grin never seemed to be far away from her face. “Do you want to fuck?”

I sat down on the daemon’s ratty old couch (which was kind of ridiculous, it was like an undersized lazy-boy to me, and I was lucky it didn’t just collapse under my weight), and watched Emily get undressed again.  I never get tired of watching that.  My cock was straining almost painfully upward.  She kissed the head of it merrily.

“Anal’s going to be tricky… we’ll just have to work up to that.”  She climbed up onto my lap, balancing on my thighs.

Raising herself up onto her knees, she gripped my erection with both hands, rubbing it up and down her drooling pussy.  I sighed and rolled my head back, shutting my eyes and relishing the blissful sensation.  It felt so good what she was doing, and it had been so long since I had been touched like that.  I only hoped it felt just as good for her.

Then I felt her movement change, and I opened my eyes to see what Emily was doing.  She had the end of my dick aimed right at her pussy opening.  Carefully, determinedly, she lowered herself down onto my pole.

“Oh! My! Goodness!!” she gasped out loud through a bit lip, “Damn that feels good!”

It certainly did.  Her pussy enveloped me, grasping me tightly.  She was hot and wet inside.  It felt incredible.  She eased herself down, until the entire length of my penis was inside her.  Her pussy seemed to bulge visibly around my meat.

“Oh… yeah… Gods!” she was moving now, little movements: up and down, back and forth, impaled on my cock.  “I’m going to have to get myself a new dildo!”

She looked beautiful like that, riding my dick.  Her breasts shook and jiggled with every movement, her hair was mussed up and her eyes were glazed and half closed.  She seemed to glow.  I reached behind her and caressed her jiggling buttocks.  She wiggled her behind encouragingly, and I cupped her ass in my hands.  Her round bottom seemed almost tiny in my huge hands.  I spread the cheeks apart and with a fingertip, gently traced the crease in between, ticking her tiny asshole.  She started moving more aggressively up and down on my dick.  Her hands were busy, pulling and twisting her own big pink nipples.  I pressed my fingertip up into her very tight asshole.

Her moans and groans increased substantially in volume, and she started to flush blotchy red pink.  I had never felt anything remotely close to this ever: a beautiful willing eager female impaled hotly, wetly on my cock, enjoying every bit of me.  I felt something swell in my heart, an almost incomprehensible rush of tenderness nearly overwhelmed me.  Meanwhile I wasn’t going to be able to take much more of this.  I was clenching every muscle in my body to keep from shooting off inside her.

“Emily, I want to feel you come on my dick…!” I managed to whisper through clenched teeth.

She opened her eyes and looked at me scorchingly.  “You’re going to in just about three seconds!”  She removed one hand from her swollen nipple and started rubbing vigorously between her legs as she bounced up and down on my cock.  Moments later, her breathing was coming in ragged gasps, and I felt her body tremble and shake, and then I knew she was coming.  Somewhere I could hear her screams of pleasure, but more immediately, I felt her pussy grasping, squeezing, spasming on my cock.  I could take no more.  I thrust myself up into her, fucking her, and with a bellow, I let go.

My come was so intense, it seemed to last a century.  She rode me all the way through it, and when she collapsed on top of me, covering my hairy chest with kisses, I felt like it was me who was glowing.  We stayed that way for a long time, just cuddling and touching and kissing, our parts pressed wetly and stickily together.

Finally, Emily laid her head down on my chest and closed her eyes; her sheet-cape-thingy did double duty as a blanket.  I watched her breathing softly and gently played with her hair.  I could feel the terrible hunger gnawing at my insides again.  I hated myself right then.  I thought about eating rocks, or killing myself, just to get rid of that hunger.

“Why don’t you leave this place?”

I’d thought she was asleep.  Now Emily was propped up on one elbow, looking up at me seriously.

“There’s no way out.  Believe me, I’ve looked.  Over the years I’ve been through every inch of the labyrinth.”

“What about the doors?  Have you ever tried the front door?”

I felt like a total asshole.  The front doors were these massive stone gates, way too heavy for any mortal to budge.  But not necessarily too heavy for a minotaur to push open.

We followed Emily’s string back to the gates; the daemons had been slacking off in recent years.  There were more burned-out fluorescents than there should have been too.  The doors were huge and daunting; if they were barred from the outside, we were both fucked forever.  I put my shoulder against one and pushed.  It shuddered and creaked, and moved very slightly outward.  The things were solid granite, and must have weighed tens of tons.

Turns out I was strong enough, though just barely.  The stone door creaked and complained and finally opened just a crack, wide enough for Emily and me to slip out into the night.  It was night outside, and our faces were lit by the soft light of the crescent moon and a high dome of impossibly bright stars.

I never looked back.

Emily always wanted to try a threesome, but the idea kind of freaked me out: I was always afraid that I’d forget myself and eat the third in the heat of the moment.  So we contented ourselves with lots of kinky sex and porn.  Emily says she’s crazy about me.  I don’t really understand why: I’m a huge, hairy brute; but I love her very much.

We took an apartment in the city, and I got a job with a moving company.  It isn’t the greatest job, but it comes with health insurance and two weeks vacation, and when I threatened to quit (because the other guys had taken to letting me do all the work) they gave me a raise.

I discovered the joys of Costco and of take-out pizza and all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet; I’m developing a bit of a paunch.  I don’t think I’m immortal anymore, since I’m outside; my knees and back have been complaining a lot lately, and I seem to be going grey.  But I don’t mind.  I kind of like the idea of growing old with Emily.

END

Junior high school was the deepest pit in hell.  There were three of us that hung out together: me, Lauren, and Ronnie.  It wasn’t so much that we were friends; we didn’t really have very much in common; it was more that we were companions in arms, banding together by necessity against the Jocks, the Tough Kids, the Rich Kids, and the Popular Crowd.

I was the budding literary geek, a writer and a (horrible) poet even then.  Lauren was super-intelligent, a math and science fiend; she’d end up with a PhD in physics from one of the ivy-league schools.  Ronnie was the malcontent, the ne’er-do-well, the cynic, too damn smart for his own good.

We all had two things in common.  The first was geekiness: we were all sci-fi/fantasy dweebs and avid D&D players.  The second was lust.  All three of us had burned the last bridge into full-on puberty, and we absolutely could not make it through a conversation, barely a sentence even, without dirty jokes, giggles, and raunchy sexual innuendo.  I for one seemed to walk around with a boner in my pants all the time, convinced that everyone at school could see it and was laughing at me behind my back.  It was such a relief to know other kids who were in the same boat.  The first time we discussed it openly, it was a huge epiphany.  We all three masturbated every day, at least once, often a lot more than that.  Ronnie and me had hard-ons all the freaking time; Lauren confessed that she always went home with moist and sticky panties.  From there, the next step was no giant leap.

So.  It was a Friday after school, mid-January, the beginning of the spring semester.  Next year we’d be split up to different high schools: Lauren would be attending a semi-private charter school, I’d be going to the high school near my house, and Ronnie was going to a different high school across town, closer to where he lived.

We were hanging out at Ronnie’s place.  Ronnie’s house was great: both his parents worked and didn’t get home until evening, and he didn’t have siblings, so we had the place to ourselves.  That, and his parents either didn’t know or didn’t care what he did on the computer: there were no parental controls, no websites were blocked.  So we used to surf all the porn we could find.

We each had our favorites.  I was a big fan of lesbian porn, Lauren liked blowjobs, Ronnie just liked seeing people fuck.  There was plenty to go around.  Ronnie’s computer was slow as hell, choked with viruses and spyware, but that didn’t stop us.  There was a ton of free porn on the web, and when the pop-up ads got too annoying, Lauren could usually figure out how to fix it.

So we’d get all worked up watching dirty videos, the giggling and chatter would sort of trail off, the temperature in the room would inexplicably rise, and then the clothes would come off.  Or at least some of them.

When none of us three could stand one more minute of frustration, the pants would come down, and me and Ronnie’s boners would pop out.  Lauren’s pants would drop down too, but she kept her knees pressed together, so all we got to see was the top third of her wispy, mousey brown pubic patch.  Which was plenty exciting all by itself.

This Friday was fairly typical.  It was freezing cold outside, but inside it was hot and sweaty, and the pheromones were flying.  We were sitting around Ronnie’s computer, the screen choked with pop-up windows, each on our own chair, internet porn dispensed with for the moment.  Ronnie and I had woodies that were standing up like little flagpoles; Lauren’s hand was busy in the mysterious out-of-sight region between her pale thighs, her eyes wide and fixed on our equipment.

I thought I had a nicer dick than Ronnie.  Both were about the same size (i.e. not anywhere near as big as the dudes we saw in the pornos), but Ronnie’s was kind of skinny, and the head was narrower than the shaft.  Mine had a foreskin that retracted when it was erect, and a sharply defined head that looked like a German WW2 helmet.

Ronnie and I reached over and started stroking each other’s meat.  It felt really good, both the sensation of having his dick in my hand, and the feeling of his hand wrapped around my cock.  What we both wanted, of course, was for Lauren to take on this particular task herself, but so far she had steadfastly refused.

This was all quite routine by now, and we’d both developed pretty good technique.  We’d start sort of slow and soft, and pump faster and more intensely until we were both howling out loud and Lauren’s fingers were making squooshing noises between her legs.  We’d gotten to where we could shoot off, if not exactly simultaneously, then within seconds of each other, which was Lauren’s cue to orgasm.  She would come in a series of gasping, choking, shaking breaths, which was generally enough to get me and Ronnie hard again.  Repeat as necessary until totally satisfied, or Ronnie’s parents came home, whichever came first.

It may not have been the ideal arrangement, but it sure beat the hell out of jerking off alone.

Back to this particular occasion.  Ronnie and I were just getting into it, teasing each other by going faster and then slower, squeezing hard for a few strokes and then barely touching at all.  The diminutive head of Ronnie’s dick was livid red and oozing copious amounts of slick clear pre-come.  My own penis was in very much the same condition.

Out of the blue, Lauren reached over (with her non-masturbating hand) and tapped me on the shoulder.  “Why don’t you suck his dick?”

Now it’s still kind of embarrassing to admit this, but I had been wanting to do exactly that for quite a while already.  Not because I was especially attracted to guys in general, or Ronnie in particular, but I was really really curious about what it would be like to try.  I thought it would probably be really sexy.

We both stopped what we were doing and answered Lauren in chorus: “No Way!”  I didn’t want anyone thinking I was gay, not even my two trusty sexual compañeros.

“Come on, it’ll be really hot.  I’ll show you my breasts…”

That clinched it.  We’d been nagging Lauren to show us her boobs almost from the very beginning, and so far she had always primly refused.  They weren’t very big, two bumps under her t-shirt, but they were real, and that counted for an awful lot.

“Ok!” “All right!”  We didn’t let go of each other’s dicks, but we totally stopped what we were doing and gawked at Lauren.

With a shrug, Lauren peeled off her grey sweatshirt.  She was wearing a frilly black bra underneath.  She reached behind her back, and undid the clasp, then wiggled out of the shoulder straps, letting the bra fall onto her lap.  She smiled, self-conscious but pleased, as we ogled her tits.

They were perfect.  They were smaller than almost any of the ones we had seen in porn, like a pair of half-plums, pointing outward and slightly upward.  They jiggled slightly with every movement, every breath, and she had a pair of little pink nipples that stuck out excitedly.

“Well, go on!” Lauren said, and Ronnie chimed in “Yeah, dude!”

I got down on my knees, my boner even harder than before, and got up close and personal, face-to-face with Ronnie’s dick.

Taking a deep breath, I opened wide and swallowed it whole.

It didn’t seem nearly so big or as scary once it was in my mouth.  I’d been afraid I wouldn’t be able to get it all in, or that I would choke.  That wasn’t a problem.  Thing was, I didn’t exactly know what to do next.

I started sucking (they did call it ‘sucking cock’ after all) as if it were a lollipop or something, and letting my tongue explore the underside of his dick.  The taste didn’t bother me; it didn’t really taste at all.

Apparently whatever it was that I was doing worked.  Ronnie started thrusting and moaning.  “Holy shit!  Oh dude, that feels amazing!  Oh fuck…!”  Lauren chimed in too: “Oh my God, that is SO hot!  Oh yeah, suck his dick!”

I kind of lost myself in the cock sucking.  My head bobbed up and down, meeting Ronnie’s thrusts, my tongue worshiped his dick as his moans got louder and more insistent.   I found the whole experience incredibly sexy, and so did my dick, pointing straight out in front of me as I knelt between Ronnie’s knees.

“Oh shit dude, oh yeah, I’m gonna come!” Ronnie grabbed my head, forcing me all the way down on his meat.  “Oh yeah, take it!” Lauren cried in that raspy voice I knew meant she was right on the edge of orgasm.  I closed my eyes and sucked with everything I had.

Ronnie came in my mouth, louder than I had ever heard him come before.  His stuff spewed into my mouth, filling and overflowing.  It was salty and hot and slimy and kind of bitter.  I didn’t actually mind the taste at all.  Somewhere in the background, I could hear the choked-off gasps of Lauren’s climax.  I licked Ronnie’s dick clean as it shrank, devouring every last drop.

“Now it’s your turn,” Lauren told us, “Go on Ronnie, make him come.”

“Why don’t you do it this time?” Ronnie asked, giving voice to my sincere sentiment.

“No, I just want to watch,” Lauren said, “Go on, jerk him off.  He did such a nice job for you…”

I leaned back and let Ronnie jerk me off while Lauren watched and fingered herself.  It was nice to be the sole object of attention for once, and it was really hot to be able to watch Lauren’s real actual breasts as she masturbated, but I didn’t feel like Ronnie was really giving it his all.  Any come is a good come, and I squirted all over my tummy to his ministrations, but it wasn’t exactly an earth-shaking one either.

*

Lauren asked if we could sleep over.  This wasn’t especially unusual.  By mutual unspoken agreement, there would be no sex games.  The chance of getting caught was just too real.  On the other hand, there would be D&D, Warhammer, X-Box and Playstation until late at night.  Parents were called, and no-one had any objections.

Ronnie’s dad, Mr. Ronzoni, didn’t get home until late.  He was a big guy with a big belly, and he worked in construction and never had very much to say.  There was a permanent scowl etched into his deeply lined face, and all of us were a little bit afraid of him.

Ronnie’s mom had dinner ready when he walked in the door.  Mrs. Ronzoni was great.  She was easy-going and friendly and funny and laughed often, and I secretly thought she was really hot.  She was ancient of course, she must have been close to 40, and she was a little chubby, but she had a beautiful smile, shortish blonde hair, twinkling eyes, and a really large pair of breasts that I used to try hard not to stare at over dinner.  You could see the cleavage where they came together near the top of her shirt, and it used to drive me crazy.  She also had a wide, soft shapely butt that I jerked off to on a regular basis.

Dinner was a quiet, tense affair.  Mr. Ronzoni brought a bottle of scotch to the table and drank half of it with his meal.  I tried to keep my eyes down and not get caught staring at Mrs. Ronzoni’s ample bust or catch Mr. Ronzoni’s eye.  One time Mrs. Ronzoni reached over the table to get the bowl of parmesan, and her boobs practically spilled out of her shirt.  Lauren kicked me under the table and grinned like a wolf.  I tried to imagine Ronnie’s parents having sex.  I imagined Mr. Ronzoni, naked, with his big round gut, a thick furry chest, and hairy balls that hung down to his knees.  I stifled a snork, and Lauren kicked me again and Ronnie gave me a warning look.

After dinner, we dicked around with computer games until it was way past time to go to bed.  Finally, Mr. Ronzoni (who had finished that bottle of scotch) came around grumbling at us, and we got shooed off to bed.

Ronnie slept in his own room, Lauren slept on the couch in the living room that folded out into a bed, and I slept on a pad on the floor in the study, where the X-Box and Playstation were.

It must have been after midnight.  I couldn’t sleep.  I always had trouble sleeping when I wasn’t at home.  Instead I was lying on top of my bed sheets, dick in hand, idly replaying the events of that afternoon.

I almost jumped out of my skin when the study door creaked slowly open.  For just a second I thought it was Ronnie, coming by to sample the taste of cock for himself, or even Lauren, relenting at long last.  Then I saw in the dim light that it was Mrs. Ronzoni, dressed in her green fuzzy bathrobe.  I choked down a startled squeal and hurriedly tried to hide my erect dick, yanking up my pj bottoms.

“Are you awake in here?” she asked softly.

“Yeah…” I whispered, my voice trembling and threatening to betray me.

Mrs. Ronzoni slipped into the room and closed the door quietly behind her.  “I came by to see if you needed anything…” She walked softly closer to where I was lying on the pad.  My dick was making an absolutely unmistakable tent in the front of my pajamas.  “…Anything at all.”

Her robe slipped open at that point and anything I had been thinking of saying was instantly forgotten.  She was naked, totally, gloriously naked.  Her breasts looked giant, better than anything I had ever seen in a porno, with big brown crinkly circles the size of my palm around big fat nipples.  She was all soft and curvy, with a deep bellybutton, and a dark lush triangle of pubic hair framed by two thick thighs.  She knelt down on the bed and leaned over so her boobs were brushing against my chest and she kissed me full on the lips.

Her kiss was hot and wet and boozy.  I kissed her back, as best as I knew how (which wasn’t very much) and she responded eagerly.  Her hand found my cock through the soft fabric of my pjs, and I almost came just from her touch.  She squeezed me fondly and tugged down my pajamas.

We kissed a little bit more, and I thought I might get drunk off her taste, and then she fed me her tits and let me lick and suck on them a little –heaven- and then she pushed me down and started sucking on my dick.

Holy Shit!  I couldn’t believe how amazingly good it felt!  If what I had done for Ronnie had felt half as good, he should be thanking me the rest of his life.  And my dick was getting sucked by a real, actual female, a naked woman with big tits and a beautiful ass.

“I’m going to come!” I squeaked, and Mrs. Ronzoni popped her head up.

“Shhh” she whispered, “Not yet.  Not like that… like this.” And then she straddled me, and I could feel her pubic hairs brushing against my erection and I could feel her hot wetness dripping down onto me, and as soft as butterfly kisses, she dragged her juicy slit up and down my raging hard-on as she played with her nipples and with what I could only assume was her clitoris and watched me from on high like a bird of prey.

I noticed about then that the door was slightly ajar, though Mrs. Ronzoni had certainly closed it after herself, and I was just in time to see Lauren, in her pale blue nightgown, slip into the room.  Lauren saw me looking and made a face and then, when Mrs. Ronzoni showed no sign of noticing, flashed me a huge, lusty grin.

“Are you ready?” Mrs. Ronzoni asked.

I nodded.

She confidently grabbed a hold of my cock and pointed it straight up, and then impaled herself onto me with a satisfied “Aaaaaah.”

Oh my god!  If I thought the blowjob part was amazing, it was nothing compared to the sensation of being inside her hot, slippery, wet pussy.  It felt so good, I thought I might die.  I wanted it to go on forever.

“Go ahead,” Mrs. Ronzoni whispered to me, smiling, “fuck me.”

I didn’t really have any choice in the matter: my body sort of took over for me.  I started humping into Ronnie’s mom’s wet pussy, and she started grinding herself back against me, and our pubes were mashed together and “Oh Fuck I’m Coming!” and Mrs. Ronzoni lay down her body on mine and kissed my mouth hard with her tits squished against my chest as my balls twitched and my hips bucked and I screamed silently into her mouth and pumped what seemed like gallon after gallon of come into her hungry pussy.

It seemed to go on for ages.  When it was finally over, I lay back gasping, feeling Mrs. Ronzoni’s weight and wetness on my body.  I glanced over, and saw Lauren framed in the partially-open door, her nightgown hiked up around her waist and one hand busy between her legs.  She grinned at me and gave me a big thumbs-up.

“You want to play some more?” Mrs. Ronzoni asked in a husky whisper, and I nodded ‘Yes’.  “You want to taste?” I nodded an enthusiastic ‘Yes!’

She extracted herself from my penis and crawled up my body, ending up squatting over my face.  I was just inches from her pussy, her beautiful, swollen, wide-open, soaking-wet gooey pussy.  “Lick it,” she encouraged me, and I dove right in.

She was absolutely soaked, with my come and her own juices.  The aroma of sex made my head spin.  I didn’t even know where to begin.  I just started licking, drinking her, drinking myself, trying to get my tongue as far up her pussy as I could stick it.

She took hold of the back of my head and guided me.  I started slurping up and down her crease.  It was salty and musky and female and I loved it.  I could sometimes feel a bump near the top that must have been her clitoris because she jumped and moaned every time my tongue ran over it.  I experimentally stuck my tongue down where her ass cheeks creased together and got instant results.

“Oh yes, you kinky boy!”  Ronnie’s mom shifted her stance slightly and pried her butt open, and I was suddenly face-to-face with her big, crinkled asshole.  I dove in hungrily, licking and kissing away, probing her anus with my tongue as she rubbed herself and moaned louder and louder until I was afraid she would wake up the whole house.

“Oh yes you sexy little beast, make me come!  Yeah, stick your finger in there and lick me now!”

I let my forefinger slide up her tight hot asshole, and licked as hard as I could as she lowered herself onto my face.  I couldn’t breathe, and I didn’t care.  All I cared about was licking that hot little button she was grinding against my tongue.

She came, groaning and cursing up above me, and I felt like the King of the World.

Meanwhile, my dick had gone and gotten all hard again.  Mrs. Ronzoni smiled and kissed my wet and sticky face.  “Fuck me again,” she told me softly, “fuck me real good.”

She rolled over onto her back and spread her legs wide for me, and I got my first real good look at her pussy, and it made me even hornier than ever.  I climbed between her thick thighs and slipped my dick into her wetness and fucked her pussy and sucked and kissed her tits as she kissed and encouraged me, and this time I must have lasted a good two or three minutes before I exploded, pumping whatever come I had left out of my aching balls and deep into the depths of her pussy.

She let me lay there, panting, for a minute or two, and then gently rolled my limp body off of her.  I looked for Lauren over by the door, but apparently she had already made her exit.

“Thank you,” Mrs. Ronzoni said, and kissed me again on the forehead, “You have no idea how badly I needed that.”  Then she gathered up her bathrobe, tied the knot around her middle, and slipped out of the room into the night.

*

A couple days later, me and Lauren were hanging out in the school library after classes.  Ronnie wasn’t there.  He was in detention that day.

Anyway, we all used to hang out in the library after school a lot, because it was private and safe, and because Mrs. Binnewater didn’t give a shit what we did as long as we kept it quiet and left her alone.

“I saw you the other night.” Lauren said.  We were sitting in the sci-fi section, backs to the shelves, facing each other.

“I know” I said, feeling weirdly sheepish about admitting it.

“That,” Lauren said, closing her book with a snap, “was So Fucking Hot!”

“Yeah… Really?” I set down my own book.  I wasn’t sure where Lauren was going with this conversation, but she didn’t seem to feel disgusted or betrayed, my two big fears.

“Have you done that before?  Do you always do that with her when we sleep over?”

“No,” I said, “That was the first time ever.”

“Wild.” she said and kind of chuckled, “That was really fucking hot.  Even better than watching you do Ronnie.”

Now that was an issue we NEVER ever discussed openly, and certainly not at school.

“You wanna see something?”

Well of course I did.

Lauren was wearing a skirt, which was kind of unusual for her.  It was a blue denim skirt, and she had black leggings on because it was freaking cold outside.  She skootched up her ass and hiked her skirt up around her waist.  The leggings ended mid-thigh, and I had an awesome view of her pink panties.  My dick, of course, responded instantly, pressing hard against my zipper.

“Lauren, we’re in the library!” I hissed at her.

“So what?  As long as we’re quiet, no-one’s going to bother us.”  It was true.

She took a deep breath, and wiggled her panties off, kicking them to one side.  For the first time ever I had an unobstructed view of her pussy.  It was beautiful.  It had a soft covering of light brown hair, and a neat seam up the middle where the pursed lips bulged appetizingly out.

“Is it ok?” Lauren asked, “It’s not ugly is it?”

“Oh my god no, it’s amazing!”

She peeled the puffy outer lips back, putting herself totally on display for me. I could see her inner labia, the actual place where a penis would go, I could see her glistening, oozing wetness and everything.  My cock threatened to explode inside my pants.

“This is my clitoris.”  I had a little trouble believing that the tiny little pink nubbin she was pointing at was really it; that hallowed, sacred spot, the source of so much pleasure, the subject of so many sex articles.  In the dark room, Mrs. Ronzoni’s had felt huge against my tongue.  “That’s what I like to play with when I masturbate.”

She proceeded to do so, getting her index finger wet first by licking it, and then by dipping it into her pretty pussy.  I was utterly fascinated, and turned on beyond all measure, watching her caress that little eraser head with her wet finger.

“You should get your pants down,” Lauren said.  I looked nervously in the direction of the librarian’s desk, invisible from where we were in the stacks.  “Don’t worry about Mrs. Binnewater.  She’s not coming over here.  She never has before, why would she now?  Come on, I like looking at your dick!”

Well, that settled it.  I unbuttoned my jeans and pulled them down along with my jockey shorts, setting my poor aching erection free.  “Mmm, nice” Lauren said.  I couldn’t take my eyes off her pussy.  The semi-circular motions of her index finger had sped up and taken on a new urgency.

“You can touch me if you want to.” she said.

Hesitantly, I reached out with my own finger and gently petted her pussy, parting her moist inner lips with my fingertip.  She shuddered and arched her back at my touch.  She was incredibly hot down there.  It was totally different from Mrs. Ronzoni’s, as different as one flower is from another.  She felt small and delicate and slippery.  I pressed my finger in a little deeper.

“Stop!  I mean, don’t stop.  Keep your finger right there, just don’t go any deeper.  Oh fuck, I’m going to come!”

Following her instruction, I kept the tip of my finger nestled between her tender lips, barely moving it, making tiny beckoning motions: come here, come here.  Her juices were all over me, her legs splayed wide, threatening to knock some sci-fi paperbacks off the bottom shelf, her breath was choppy and raspy.  We’d played together long enough that I knew she was right on the edge of a really intense orgasm.

“Touch my asshole!” she whispered throatily.  Probing between her clenching-and-unclenching butt cheeks, I found her little asshole and pressed a finger up against it.  Lauren came hard, bucking and twisting and writhing, biting down hard on her shoulder to keep from screaming out loud.

“Thanks!” she said once she had settled down, “That was awesome!  Can I do you now?”

I certainly didn’t need any encouragement, and neither did my dick.  Her small soft hand felt great on my penis.  Lauren smiled happily.  “I hope I do it right.”

Ronnie might have had more practice, but Lauren was fantastic.  It felt amazingly good, and  I was in heaven while it lasted, which wasn’t very long.  Her hand pumped up and down, her free hand fondled my balls and my ass and my toes curled as I started to come.

“Oh Lauren…!” I gasped.  She grinned up at me, a big happy smile, and pumped harder and faster.  “Oh…!” I was coming, hard.  She squirted me straight into the palm of her hand, a big pearly-white puddle that she proceeded to hungrily lap up.

“That was fun!” she said as she retrieved her panties.

“Yeah, it sure was.”

“I’m not sure that it can happen again.”

“Oh… Ok.”  I had been more than prepared to fall head over heels in love with her.

“But it was still fun.”

“Yeah, definitely.”

*

We weren’t meeting up for our after school sessions nearly as much anymore.  Lauren had confided in me that she was having an affair with a girl from the University (they’d met online and she’d lied about her age; I got to hear ALL the gory details!) and Ronnie kept getting detention.  Kid was skipping class entirely too much, and had started smoking cigarettes lately.  This was almost as horrifying to me and Lauren as if he’d started shooting heroin or joined the Young Republicans.

So we were all lounging around in post-orgasmic limpness over at his house a couple months later, when he told us:

“My Mom’s pregnant.”

I blanched white, but Lauren coolly said, “Oh that’s cool.  Do you know if it’s going to be a boy or a girl?”

“I don’t know,” Ronnie said disgustedly, “All I know is who is going to get stuck babysitting and changing the diapers.  ME, that’s who!”

*

I saw Ronnie and his mom once that summer.  It was September and my mom had dragged me to K-Mart to go shoe shopping.  Ronnie and Mrs. Ronzoni were there on much the same mission.  She looked like she had swallowed a beach ball.  They didn’t notice me, and I didn’t say anything.

I pretty much lost track of Ronnie.  Heard he ended up with a law degree.  Lauren and I drifted apart during high school, but reconnected while she was at Princeton and I was at State, and we became long-distance friends and confidants.

I didn’t have sex again until I was almost 25.

END

Two-thirty in the morning.  The dead end of a dead end road.  Tangled woods on the one hand: twisted, overgrown, blanketed in shadow; farmers’ fields on the other: tall wispy winter wheat glistening with frost and half-shrouded in ground fog.  A little gravel circle, just enough room to turn a car around: empty beer bottles and fast food containers littering the verge.

He killed the engine and cut the headlights.  The only light came from the nearly-full moon, waxing gibbous, floating ghostly just above the trees.  The pale blue light fell in long stark shadows, giving the landscape a creepy, film-noire chiaroscuro feeling.

“Are you nervous?”

“No.” he lied

“Don’t be,” I said, “We’re both grownups.  Come on, let’s do it!”

“Get out of the car.” he said.

It was freezing cold outside.  The frigid night air burned my exposed skin, and I shivered spasmodically.  The cold leached through my purple knit sweater and found its way around my ankles and up my pant legs.  For a moment I thought about reaching back inside the car and grabbing my jacket out of the passenger seat.

“Bend over the hood” he told me, and I did.  The metal, still warm from an hour-long drive, felt good against my chest.  His presence, his crotch, in close proximity to my ass, felt even better.  “Hands behind your back.”

I complied, and heard a slight jingle as he fished out the handcuffs.  One at a time he secured my wrists behind my back.  Each time the mechanism *clicked* and the cool smooth metal ratcheted down against my flesh, my clit twitched and my cunt drooled with lustful anticipation.

“Stand up and turn around.”

It was hard to feel very intimidated by him.  He was about my height, maybe an inch taller; skinny dude, pale skin.  Should get out more often.  He had shortish dark hair that was cutely disheveled like he’d just gotten out of bed, and one lazy eye that I found alternately endearing, distracting, or disturbing.  We stood, facing each other, our breath made visible in little puffs of white.

“Go ahead,” I told him, egging him on, encouraging him.

He seemed to dither for a long moment of indecision, and then, making up his mind, he slapped me across the face.

It was almost comical, a movie-slap.  My cheek stung a little bit.  Not the effect I was going for at all.

“No.” I said, “Harder.  Like we talked about before.  Come on, I’m not made of porcelain.  You’re not going to break me.”

He hit me again, hard, an open-handed blow to the face that rattled the teeth in my jaw and sent me reeling onto the frozen gravel at his feet.  The pain exploded from within me, hot and sharp, making my head spin and my parts throb.  I’d have a fat lip for sure.  I spit ineffectually, wondering if I were spitting up blood.

He was squatting next to me as I lay on the ground next to the front tire of the car.  The shock of the blow and the rush of pain gave me a sense of hyper-awareness.  With fumbling fingers he started unbuttoning my jeans, tugging them down.  I wiggled my jaw experimentally left to right.  It didn’t seem to be broken, no teeth missing.  Far, far above us, in the clear black sky, a million stars twinkled like fierce bright knives.

*Smack* He started beating my naked ass with the flat of his hand.  Smack! Smack! Smack!  I lost track after ten.  It hurt, a lot, he wasn’t holding anything back now, and tears ran freely down my face, leaving cold salty trails that threatened to freeze into rime ice. Smack! Smack! Smack!

“On your knees!” He grabbed me cruelly by the tits and hauled me up into a kneeling position.  Somewhere in the night a hunting owl hooted.  A dog barked.  Far away across the field, a pair of headlights traced their way along a country road.  Did the cops ever make it out here, looking for partiers, underage drinkers, teenage couples making out?

He had taken his dick out of his pants and was pointing it in my direction.  It stood up proudly, arcing slightly up.  The head was big and juicy-red and swollen, oozing pre-come.  Obediently I took it in my mouth, sucking it, lavishing it with my tongue, taking my pleasure in pleasuring him.  He held my head in both hands, forcing me up and down on his cock, fucking my bruised face without mercy.  I loved having him like that.  I wanted to taste him, I wanted him to use me, to come in my mouth.  I wanted to eat him like that forever.

He withdrew his hard wet cock from my hungry mouth. As I looked longingly at it, he grabbed a fistful of my hair and dragged me bodily into the backseat of his car.  I caught a quick glimpse of myself under the dome light as he tugged my jeans and wet panties all the way down around my ankles.  I was a mess.  Dirty, bloody, little chunks of gravel still imbedded in my knees and stuck to my thighs.

He forced my legs up in the air and started licking me.  I don’t know if I’ve ever been so wet before in my life.  My cunt felt huge and swollen, my clit throbbed, I felt like I way lying in a puddle of joy juice.  I wanted him to pull my pants off, spread my legs wide, and shove his fist up me; but my ankles were bound together by the crumpled-up pants and all he did was lick.

His tongue traced a wet path from my asshole up to my clitoris, and back down again, slurping like a thirsty dog attacking a water bowl.  Pleasure shook through me in waves.  Fingers penetrated my ass, my cunt, and his tongue flicked like a hummingbird against my clit and I exploded, crying, weeping, shaking, grinding back against him.

He pulled my sweater up and tore my bra off, ripping the black stretchy fabric.  He climbed onto the back seat, straddling my chest, his balls resting on my tits, his cock, that beautiful big hard cock that belonged inside me, pointed at my mouth.  I felt a pang of jealousy so strong it hurt for his girlfriend, his wife, whatever she was.  He was stroking his cock in one hand, pumping purposefully, urgently.  I licked the underside, tongued the head, savoring him, savoring the sensation, the taste.  My cunt was still leaking freely, my clit still twitching from that last orgasm.

Silently, he came.  Squirt after squirt of salty, sticky, bitter semen squirted into my open mouth.  I was amazed how much came out, how hard he shot off, and still more oozed out.  I drank it all, teasing the last drops from his winking pee-hole until he became too sensitive and yanked my toy away from me.

Back on the thruway, by the glow of the dashboard and the glare of the occasional oncoming headlight, I looked myself over.  My wrists were an ugly mass of red and purple bruises and abrasions, and I had skinned one elbow real good; the entire left side of my face was swollen, and I had split my lower lip.  There was a trickle of red blood drying at the corner of my mouth.  What excuse could I use Monday at the office and not sound like an assault victim in denial?  I had fallen down playing pick-up street hockey?  That didn’t sound too far out of character.

By the time he dropped me off in front of my building, the sky was turning pale and grey, like weak coffee.

“Same time next week?”

“Sure thing.” he nodded, “…you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I smiled, a twisted, wry smile, “Never better.”

I got out of the car and headed up the steps of my stoop.  When I reached the front door, I turned and looked back, but he was already pulling away.

END