Authors note: All characters are at age 18+. Based on true events. This is my first story here so I hope you will like it and thanks for reading.

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It all started when me (Matt m26) and my girlfriend, Gina (f25), met with our friends, another couple. Sarah (f25) is Gina’s best friend, and her boyfriend is Tom (m24). The two girls have known each other for years, and I have been with Gina for 3 years, so I also know Sarah well. We had many parties and adventures together, and we can say that we know nearly everything about each other. Besides, I never think about Sarah as a girlfriend. We are actually just friends. She is really hot, so naturally I fantasized about her, but nothing more. Except one experience, but I will tell that later. Tom is new to the group. He has been with Sarah for 4 months.

So the 4 of us meet at Sarah’s home, and the night starts like all the previous ones. Chatting, drinking, some music, and some party games. After a couple of rounds, we were tipsy, and I had a naughty idea.

You have to know that I am a bit of a cocky and confident guy who is proud of his size. It started in the college years ago, when I won a cock size comparison game once at a wild party. That was the time when I realized that I have a good size, which the girls love, and something started then. I didn’t get anything, but the rumors started, and every girl wanted to know the truth. Good old times…

The second time I won was at a similar party with Gina and Sarah, but the fourth was Mike, Sarah’s ex. I beat him by 2 inches, and as a reward, Sarah and Gina gave me a double blowjob. At this time, between Sarah and Mike, there were problems, so it wasn’t a problem for her to do that. To be honest, it was a bit cruel with Mike, but I didn’t care. Sarah wanted the blowjob, so I agreed, and Gina was OK with that either way. After that, Sarah broke up with Mike.

But back to the third time I played that game, it was when we were together with Tom. Because of my experiences and the effects of the alcohol, I suggested playing that game again. My dominant part wanted to show who was the alpha in the group. At first, Tom was shocked, but finally all of us were in. The only difference was that we agreed that the reward would be a hand job. It was good for all of us. We didn’t want to risk our friendship or Sarah and Tom’s new relationship.

When the time came, I was so excited and, to be honest, confident about my victory. My cock is a bit more than 8 inches long and quite thick, so I didn’t fear anything. The girls took off their tops, and they sat there only in shorts and bra. Before we would drop our pants, each girl touched her partner’s crotch and made us rock hard. It was a good feeling to finally free my shaft, and I was proud to show it to everyone. The girls loved the sight, I saw it in their eyes, and I loved that feeling. When Tom pulled down his pants, I heard a soft gasp from my girlfriend, and when I looked at her, Gina’s eyes were glued on Tom’s crotch. Sarah just smiled, of course she was ready for the result because she had seen both of our cocks before, but the exact difference surprised my girlfriend. I don’t know if the girls discussed our sizes before or not, but if yes, Gina only knew that Tom is also big, and she didn’t know his exact size. He wasn’t so much bigger, around 1 inch, but the difference between my a-bit-over 8-inch cock and his huge 9-inch cock was clearly visible. We didn’t have to use rulers. And he was thicker as well, so he won that game in every way.

To be honest, at first, I was so jealous. It was hard for me because I didn’t expect that result, and I’m a rather dominant type, so losing a contest like that was hard for me. Naturally, my girlfriend and Sarah had to finish the bet, and they jerked his huge member. I won’t lie, I was rock hard at first sight. Gina also saw that, and after she saw that my cock was still hard, she teased me all the time while she jerked his cock. She looked into my eyes, smiling, while her small hands wrapped around his thick member and moved up and down. Both girls could wank his member with both of their hands, there was enough space for four hands. It was a very erotic experience, and after the first embarrassment, I couldn’t hold back and started to jerk my cock as well. It was too hot not to do that. Tome loved to feel the girl’s hands. I am sure about that. Secretly, I was happy that we finally made a bet about the hand job and not the blowjob, but honestly, a blowjob would be hot as fuck as well. His member was close to my sweet girlfriend’s mouth, so I imagined that she accidentally slided it in her mouth. I wouldn’t be mad, but for the first time, losing a hand job was enough. When Tom was close, Gina finished the job by herself while Sarah reassured her. Gina loved to do that, I saw it in her, and in the end, he came on her hands. When he erupted, that surprised Gina, but she didn’t stop for a moment. I have to say he had a lot of cum, enough to cover my girlfriend’s hands. I held back my orgasm with superhuman power and just edged, but it was really hard. Furthermore, I wanted to save it later for Gina.

Gina at the beginning of the night was reluctant, and she didn’t want to do anything too slutty, but she became more and more into it. She has never seen any bigger cock than mine before, so it was a really new experience for her, and she loved to touch his huge, veiny and hard shaft. I know Sarah is more slutty than Gina, so she started to clean her hands and licked Tom’s cum. I didn’t believe my eyes, but it was fucking hot. Gina didn’t join her, she said later she didn’t want to hurt me by eating his cum. After Sarah finished the job, she suddenly kissed Gina, that was the next shock. I have to say the girls were carried away, but it was a very erotic sight. I didn’t see exactly, but I’m sure Sarah gave my girlfriend some cum, and she could taste Tom. Even if she doesn’t admit it later. She probably felt guilty because of the forbidden pleasure. I leave that to her, if it really happened, I would let it remain her secret.

Later that night, Gina sucked me in our room, and the next morning we fucked really wild under the influence of the naughty game. Since then, we haven’t done anything like that, and I don’t know we will ever do something more naughty. All of us were close friends, and it was a really fun experience, but we agreed with Gina that we would be loyal to each other. But one day. Who knows… Of course, we’ve talked about that night a lot since then, and usually we’d rather role-play something like that in bed. I tease her that Sarah is hotter and a better cocksucker, and she teases me that Tom has a bigger and tastier cock. This gives something plus to our sex life. This half cuckold/half swinging experience was a mile in our lives. We spoke about how maybe one day we would swap with them. Seeing Gina with them in a threesome would be fucking hot as well (yeah, that’s my hidden cuck side), and Gina said she would love to watch as we spit roast Sarah, or she would like to have sex with Sarah in a threesome. So we would live each role, I think, and adding some dirty, softly humiliating talk would be such a turn-on for all of us. We don’t know how the other couple would react, but I’m sure Sarah would be into any of the scenarios. Probably the first step will be that Gina will suggest that to Sarah, and we will find out.

The post Cock Size Contest appeared first on sexstories.org.

Imagine a big guy with a rubber mallet in your chest and he’s banging on a steel drum. That’s what it felt like the first time AJ touched me. I didn’t feel it with my first boyfriend and I sure didn’t feel it with my husband the first time. I was sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper. My son AJ was standing behind me. He kissed me on the neck and then reached into the top of my blouse and gently held my nipple between his fingers. He said “That’s the most beautiful thing I ever saw”, took his hand out and left without another word.

I was dumbfounded. It happened so fast and it was so surreal, I wondered if it really happened. It happened; my nipple still tingled.

Do you remember that rhyme you sang as you bounced the ball under your leg?
‘A’ my name is Alice and my husband’s name is Al.
We live in Acton and we sell apples.

In the game you went on to ‘B’; in my life I stopped at ‘A’. My name is Alice and my husband’s name is Andy and my son’s names are Andy jr. (AJ) and Alex and we take care of apartments. The ‘A’ thing just happened because my father who lives with us is named Alex and it made him happy to have my second son named after him.

AJ and Alex are so different; you would think they’re not only from different families but from different planets. Alex never says a word and always wants to be alone while AJ is warm, loving, handsome…this leads me to the difficulty. I love Alex but I’ve fallen in love with AJ.

As for my husband: he’s more interested in Mrs. Green who’s faucet always needs attention; (I think something else is dripping but I really don’t give a tinkers dam) we lost contact a long time ago.

AJ works with my husband and when he came home that night I asked him to come down to the laundry room to help me with the supplies. As we went down in the elevator, I said, “What was that all about this morning”?

“Mom, I’m not a kid and I’ve been out with a lot of girls. I know how a girl acts when she likes me. I hear the things you say and I see the way you look at me; it’s more than a mother looking at her son. I know Dad’s screwing the tenants (So it wasn’t only the Green bitch) and I gave him hell for it.

“Thank you baby but that doesn’t matter anymore. It’s just a business arrangement between him and me now.”

“Well he’s a shit anyway but I’m telling you ma, I know how you feel and I feel the same way.” He put his hands on my arms and the electricity started going through me. You have to understand, being touched for me is not like it is for most people. Some people’s hearing is better than others; some can smell things from a mile away while another person can’t smell it even if it’s under their nose. All of my skin is sensitive. That’s why I take off my bra whenever I can. That’s why my clothes are loose and silky and add to that that it’s my son’s hand that’s sliding over my breast and I’m already climbing the walls.

AJ takes my hand and leads me to the supply room and locks the door. It’s dark, warm, and wet: with stacks of detergent boxes and broken appliances on the floor and tools hanging on the walls. Who cares? AJ is kissing me. AJ is kissing me with the lover’s kisses I’ve been aching for. AJ is touching me and I’m alive. Everyplace his hand reaches seems to tremble on its own. Each breast is his as he fondles me. He lifts the dress and his hands are in my panties describing the curve from my waist down to back of my thighs. When he gets between my legs I’m electrified. I’m lost as he turns me and I bend over with my arms out over the old washing machine. He enters me from behind and I’m transported. I’m filled with my son and my legs are shaking.

“This is how I have you in my fantasy, mom: down here just like this.” As he pushes deeper up into my belly he tells me of the nights he’s spent and the things he’s done to me in this room. As he talks to me they become my fantasies too.

I can feel when he’s about to come and I want to come with him. I reach down to touch myself and as I feel the first spurts, I take myself over. The coming is so exquisite it almost hurts. As we’re coming down and my love is kissing my neck for the second time today, I’m hoping nobody was doing their laundry. Even though it’s a steel door, we made a lot of noise at the end.

He kisses me with love and touches me again; his gentle hands on my face tell me it was more than just a moment’s lust. I kiss him with my heart as his mother and his lover.

We go back upstairs and the usual dinnertime buzz is starting but I’m in another place. It’s almost excruciating to say and do what I’ve been saying and doing for years. I want to talk to AJ. I want to be with AJ. I want to touch AJ. Finally there’s a moment where we’re alone in the kitchen. “AJ we have to talk about all this.”

He comes up to me and says “sure mom but I’d rather kiss you”. His lips are on me and I’m sparked by his tongue but I pull back.

“AJ please, I want to kiss you too but please not here; it’s complicated enough without making things crazier. Go down to the park and I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.”

I went to the end of the small park where my son was sitting on a bench waiting for me. It was getting dark enough and there were only a few kids hanging out. We had our kiss. “AJ what are we doing?”

“Mom, you know and I know and the hell with dad and anybody else.”

“Baby, it’s not him but your brother and poppa wouldn’t understand and neither would the people we work for and on and on.”

“Mom, are you sorry…”

“Baby I’m not sorry; I don’t want to be without you but we have to know what we’re doing. Just think about it AJ; you came in me and I’ve been off the pill for six months. What if I get pregnant?”

“I wouldn’t care; I’m sure you’re beautiful when you’re pregnant.”

Alice laughed, “You know what I mean”.

He teased her and cupped her breast. “You mean these get even bigger; that I’d like to see.”

“Oh AJ…”

“Look mom, do you think I could not touch you again, or stop loving you? Tomorrow I’ll get something or you go back on the pill and we’re going to find a way to be together even if I have to drag you down to the supply room at midnight.”

I saw the flash in his eyes when he spoke and I said, “Sweet baby you’ll never have to drag me anywhere if I know you’re going to make love to me”. We kissed like school kids and when we were sure nobody was around, we touched each other until we came.

The next day was Sunday so everyone was in and out of the apartment. I was so needy and almost out of control. I never remember getting wet like that just thinking about someone and I was sure that everyone around me knew. The crazy thing was that that we did end up in the supply room again.

AJ wouldn’t or couldn’t stop touching me. Whenever no one was around he would fondle my breasts or try to slip his hands under my dress. I begged him to stop; he begged me to take off my panties. He teased me and ‘blackmailed’ me. “Mom, if you love me you would do anything for me. There’s nothing you can’t ask me to do; if you said I should lick you in the middle of the living room, I’d do it. And you wouldn’t do this little thing for me?”

He was playing but the truth is there is nothing he could ask that I wouldn’t do and I want to spend forever proving it. This was silly but I took off my panties. At one point we were in the kitchen and he stood behind me and put his finger in me. I got so nervous and turned on that I told him to follow me to supply room. I spread five or six blankets on the floor. I took my dress and bra off. I was on my knees when he came in. “Come to me my beautiful boy” I said.

I unbuckled him and undid him. I wanted to do all the things I never wanted to do with other men. He felt like velvet in my mouth and I loved what it did to him. I wanted him to come like he never came with another woman. I wanted to be the woman in all his fantasies. I’d never tasted a man this way before. It gave me as much pleasure as it did my son.

The next evening AJ went out without a word and naturally I had to ‘explain’ that I was going shopping. We met and went to a movie across town. AJ loves to kiss – I’m not complaining. I felt like I was back in high school. He kissed me raw for about a half hour and I couldn’t take anymore and said, “Let’s go to a motel”.

There was a convention in town and at the third place they only had two suites. The first took AJ’s card over the limit but the cheaper one went through. We were on our first bed and he loved me until my hair was matted and my body dripping with sweat. He went into the bathroom and came out with a lotion to use as a lubricant. I knew what he wanted.

I never understood why a woman would want a man there but after the initial shock I realized two things: it felt good because my son wanted me that way, and it felt good.

When he first entered me I thought of Jane, a woman I was friendly with a few years ago. She confided in me that she had let (made?) her son suck her breasts as he grew up. I thought it was bizarre. Now here I was in the honeymoon suite on my hands and knees with my son in my behind. So Jane, how’s that for bizarre. I thought “You don’t get more bizarre than this” and then I remembered that AJ came in me the first time. Where does having your son’s baby rate on a scale of one to ten?

This all flashed in a few seconds and then I stopped thinking. I only felt: him in me, filling that small passage, his hands gliding over my skin touching off my nipples. He opened my flower and found me with his finger so I could come as he did. He kissed and bit my back and gave his mother his love. We collapsed and slept.

We awoke and I looked at the clock. Christ, who shops until eleven thirty? That was when I decided.

AJ stayed there overnight since he didn’t always come home. I went home and told poppa and Alex that I happened to meet Jane, and we blah, blah, blah and yes I should have called. I told my husband that I’d met someone and he was soon to be my ex – husband and he couldn’t have cared less.

I’m now in my own place and AJ has also moved out of there and is staying with a ‘friend’ until he gets his own place. Where we go from here I’m not sure but I’m sure we’ll go together.

We’re now working our way through the alphabet: we’ve done everything we can think of that starts with ‘A’, ‘B’, ‘C’ and ‘D’. When were through, we’ll start on ‘Alice’ again. We’re happy.

The post A mother and son in a ‘sticky’ situation appeared first on sexstories.org.

The London Eye is deserted. It was worth getting up at crack of dawn. No one in their right mind will be sightseeing at this hour and in this kind of suffocating fog. There’s no one getting in the way. Just me, my camera, and the view.
In fact it’s quite eerie down here. The Thames slides silently between the two banks and even the rumble of cars and buses crossing the bridge is muffled. I shiver inside my old Parka, though I know it’ll be warm once I get inside. That’s why I’m wearing a loose silky shirt and old jeans underneath. I like to move freely when I’m taking pictures.
My pod glides alongside like a spaceship and I step in. I walk over to the far side, ready to rise up in the air. The white air and fog seem to rush at the glass, blocking everything out. Behind me the door slides shut.
The vents are puffing out great gusts of warm air. I take off my jacket, toss it onto the bench. It’s had a rough life. Dates back to my grubby teenage years. I unbutton my blouse a little, lean my forehead against the cool glass. I can see Big Ben leering through the cloud, but that’s about it. I can barely even see the other pods. It’s like being wrapped in a blanket in here, totally secret.

We are barely moving, but already we’re suspended above the ground. I say ‘we’ because someone else is in here with me.
Shit. I grip my camera tightly, keeping my back firmly turned. Ignore them. Fingers of watery sun are fanning round Big Ben’s face like a weird halo and I focus.
I can hear the faint rustle of clothing. I turn sideways, as if to frame another picture. A man is sitting on the bench, staring down the river towards Battersea. Fine. I’ll just get on with it. Trust me, though, to try to take my prize portfolio in dense fog.
‘I daresay you wanted to be alone up here,’ the man remarks. He has the most incredible, deep voice, like chocolate. ‘Me too.’
My shoulders hunch with irritation. I feel like ejecting. I glance at him. Big dark coat, open over a battered looking suit. Cool glasses. Dark stubble on his chin. So he got up at crack of dawn, too.
‘Never alone, though, are you, in London?’ I look up at the pod above us. I can see movement. Can’t see who, or how many. ‘People everywhere.’
‘Sorry. I should have taken the next one.’
We catch eyes. His are grey, turned down in some kind of sadness. I lift my camera to hide my face, and take a picture of him. Catch a smile just starting. Christ, he’s handsome. What stupid woman has just hurt him?
My hand holding the camera is shaking. He keeps his distance, but he is still looking at me. I can see myself and the white sky reflected in his glasses.
‘What do you see?’ he asks, stepping closer. ‘With your camera?’
The tightness has gone from my shoulders. Now it’s somewhere in my stomach, clenching like hunger. A trickle of sweat runs through my hair, down my neck.

‘They really ought to sort out this heating. It’s tropical in here.’
He nods, takes off his coat. Loosens his tie, but doesn’t undo it. A couple of hairs curl through his shirt collar. They are dark, like the stubble on his chin.
‘People, or things?’ he asks, taking off his glasses and wiping them. ‘Scenery, buildings, animals?’
‘Everything.’
‘Ever catch something secret? A couple kissing at the tube station? Or see them through a window, having sex?’
I hold the camera uselessly now, wiping my upper lip. He’s right up close. He takes the camera off me, scrolls through my pictures.
‘I see all that,’ I say, watching his hands holding my camera, the way his finger flexes over the tiny button. ‘There is one here, yes, not posed at all. Two people fucking.’ The word is out there, stark and sensational. He looks up at me and I go hot. ‘I just try to make the world look better.’
‘And they look great, don’t they, those two? The black and white is a good choice, too.’ He lifts the screen right up to his face. ‘They’d be pleased, wouldn’t they, if they could see these? So flattering. Look how long the woman’s legs look, sort of kicking like that. How firm her breasts. How big his cock –’
I snatch the camera away from him. ‘They didn’t know I was taking them. It was right across from my office. Into a hotel.’
‘It’s lovely. Artistic.’ He puts his hands on his hips. We’re practically touching now. ‘But you were turned on as well, weren’t you, watching them? I can tell, by the way you’ve zoomed in. It’s so hot in that room, isn’t it? Like it is up here.’

‘Yes,’ I whisper, looking at him, not the picture. ‘I got horny.’
‘Horny now?’ He runs a finger under my blouse, just along my collarbone. Something neglected in me leaps at the touch. ‘Because it’s hot in here, too.’
I twist my head sideways to look out. We’re much higher now. I can see over the buildings towards St Paul’s and the City. He takes my face in his hands and turns me to look at him. His fingers are so warm. My cheeks are practically sizzling.
‘Yes.’ It comes out in a long sigh.
His finger is still running along my collar bone. I never knew it was so sensitive. Just below it, my nipples are pricking up. His eyes, behind the glasses, are direct and unwavering. I can’t remember when I last bothered to look someone in the eye, long and hard. Without my camera, I mean. When I last used my own eyes. My heart is really thumping now, pulsing in my neck. The silk ruffles along my skin, bumped by my heart and by the hot air blowing over us.
He takes his jacket off. His shirt is sticking to him. I can see the curve of his ribs, a wedge of muscle tensing under his arms. I can’t take my eyes off him. I can’t breathe.
I turn away from him. We’re floating right up in the sky now. The fog has thinned into ribbons. I can see people in some of the other pods now. I don’t think they can see us. Their heads swing about as if they’re on safari.
He sighs, too. He’s sitting on the bench, looking tired. One thigh rests on my Parka coat. It’ll be warm with his body heat when I pick it up. I want to stroke him.
‘What about that couple, then?’
I glance about. Looks like there are tourist groups in some pods. Some kind of business outing in another. ‘Couple?’

‘In the hotel. Were you jealous?’
My pussy twitches. On my camera, pictures of her spread legs, toes curling with pleasure. Stark dark nipples.
‘Jealous?’ I sound like an idiot.
‘Seeing a man and woman fucking. Lost in it. You couldn’t join in. You were behind your camera, behind your lens, behind sheets of glass.’ He leans forwards, his elbows on his knees. ‘Nose pressed up against the candy jar.’
‘It’s been a while,’ I mutter, gripping the handrail behind me. He’s turned up his sleeves. He has gorgeous arms. Strong, not too hairy. I want those hands on me. ‘Being a voyeur isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.’
‘Come here, then.’ He pats the bench next to him. I try to cross to him calmly, but I want to jump at him, pounce, claw his white shirt off with my teeth. Now who’s on safari?
‘Think how sexy that picture would have been if it was you and me.’
Our arms are touching. My hairs are up on end, the tips running across his skin. He takes my camera, holds up the hotel picture again, the couple arching away from each other. Their limbs are fluid but their faces are contorted, her eyes shut, his eyes staring, both mouths open, gasping, shouting in the soundproof room.
Our pod is deadly silent. We are at the top now. For a deranged moment I wonder what it would be like to come loose from our moorings, career through the sky and plunge, splintering, to the ground.
‘Amazing view,’ I cry out, waving my arm at the world outside. My limbs are taut with expectation.
‘You can say that again,’ he says, but maybe he senses something dangerous in me. He turns the camera off and puts it down carefully.
‘So how do you think it started?’ he murmurs, sliding his hands up my silky sleeves. My arms tingle in response. ‘Doyou think they were strangers? Who made the move on whom?’
I let my breath out. It whistles in my ears as I release the tension. The ruffles at my throat and down the front of my shirt shiver, and he looks down to where the shirt is straining slightly over my breasts. He strokes the silky ruffles and waits for me to stop him. But I can’t move. I’m just staring at his finger, moving so close to my breasts. We can both see them beneath the silk, the rounded, full shape of them cupped and lifted by my bra. Flimsy fabric separating my nipples from his fingers. He flicks the first button out of its hole almost hesitantly. I bite my lip until I can taste blood. He undoes the next button, and the next, until my shirt falls open.
‘Tell me,’ he urges. I can see his throat move when he speaks. Moisture at the corner of his lips.
‘She made the move.’ My voice is ragged.
‘How?’ His fingers are on my collarbone again, his hands pressing against my breasts.
‘She looked like she was gagging for it. Maybe they’d come for miles. Waited for years. She took her skirt off, and her knickers, and sort of flashed her pussy at him. It was easy.’
‘Not like you, then. I’m going to have to take these clothes off for you, aren’t I?’
I nod and blush bright red, unable to reply. He pushes the shirt open. My skin’s alive with the touch of the silk, his fingers, the warm air blowing over me.
I tilt my head back and his fingers tread inside the warm crack of my cleavage. Oh God, he’s not waiting for a word from me now, he’s caressing my breasts through the lace bra until my nipples start to burn. His thumb flips across them, and then he stops. I open my eyes. He’s just watching me. Maybe he is waiting for permission.

My knickers are getting damp. He gasps, or laughs, I can’t tell which.
‘Did he suck her tits?’ he asks.
‘Do we have to talk?’ I groan, distracted.
‘I can only do this if you to tell me how it was.’
‘Then no, he didn’t. Maybe she didn’t want it. Her tits were small – smaller than mine.’ My body gets hotter. I’m proud of my tits. ‘Not big or juicy. Like mine.’
We both smile then. Excitement is almost strangling me. All I can see are his grey eyes. All I can feel are his fingers on my tits.
He squeezes until they start to hurt. I groan. The pain is zig-zagging into pleasure. He pulls me towards him so he can bury his face in my warm cleavage. I hold very still. Through the glass ceiling is white sky, the straight trail of an aeroplane shafting through the clouds. We are slipping downwards. In the pod above us some people are watching us.
‘See how they go hard when I pinch. How have I gone without such gorgeous tits?’ He moves his head across my breast then scoops it out of the bra. ‘You’ll let me suck it, won’t you? I can’t resist sucking it.’
He pinches one nipple and then takes the other out of the bra, nips it between his teeth and bites. I squeal, not caring about making a noise. Liking the noise. My own voice in that breezy silence makes me horny.
‘You can suck as much as you like, honey,’ I croon, stroking his hair and pulling his face hard into me, his eagerness turning me on. ‘Suck, and nibble, and tease, and suck, go on, as much as you like –’
He sucks at my breast and I wriggle up to get comfortable, straddling his lap. He doesn’t stop, and I go further. I push my breasts into his face, pushing my torso against him, so that he has to get his balance. I watch his

head moving from one nipple to the other and I am so wet now.
I pull away abruptly. He looks up, as if half asleep. But it’s only because I want to get naked. I glance up. Two pods are above us. The fog has cleared. They can see us, if they want to. Someone has binoculars trained not on St Paul’s but on me, as I throw my jeans across the floor and kick out of my knickers.
Then I bend, tits dangling, reach into his coat, and undo his trousers. He doesn’t help me. Just sits there as I open his flies.
‘Did she undo his trousers like this?’ he asks, suddenly looking vulnerable. ‘Or did he do it for her?’
‘What does it matter? They didn’t have half as much fun as we’re going to have,’ I promise him, throwing care to the winds.
He grins as I reach inside his flies and take hold of the warm cock lying there in wait. ‘Do you always take control like this?’
‘Excuse me,’ I say, climbing back onto his lap, ‘I think you touched me first.’
I glance down and gasp. He has the most enormous cock, lying quite still, stretching up his stomach. Who would have thought that a thumping great erection was hidden under that slightly shambolic exterior?
‘Why would any woman,’ I breathe, half to myself, nudging his cock against me, ‘let this go to waste?’
I brush myself back and forth over the tip, moaning with anticipation.
‘Go on. Don’t stop,’ he gasped. ‘What woman?’
‘The woman who’s driven you to this. Sex with a stranger. You looked like you’d been dumped by someone.’
He runs his tongue across my breasts and shifts his hips, thrusting his cock at me.

‘Well, she did me a favour then, didn’t she?’
I smile and reach down. Between my legs it’s lying there. Big. Hard. For the moment, mine. Its taut surface is already trailed with moisture where I’ve slithered over it. Excitement thrills through me to feel my own juice slicked there. I take it in both hands. I hitch myself back onto his thighs and stare at its swollen, stiff length. As I hold it and run my hands up and down, it leaps, the rounded end winking already with a droplet of spunk.
‘And me,’ I agree breathlessly. ‘I’ve got you now. And I want you inside me.’
I guide the rounded tip of his cock into my ready wet pussy. It touches the burning nub of my clit and I groan deliciously. It sounds filthy in my ears.
‘What’s your name?’ I ask him, easing his cock further inside.
He grins. White teeth. Nice mouth. ‘Mr Grey.’
‘Listen to this, Mr Grey,’ I whisper, sliding his cock in and out. ‘Listen to that juicy wetness.’
My sex lips close round the smooth, pulsating length. I have to pause every so often to spread my thighs and luxuriate in the huge, warm, animal length filling me, pushing inside me, its rigid dimensions fitting inside me. I’m impaled on it. I could lift my legs away and balance myself, cunt on cock, even spin round on it.
I glance at it going in and out of me. A movement catches my eye, and his, at the same time. Several pods above us now. We must be more than halfway to the bottom. A camera flashes. Hands move about, fingers point, heads waggle, feet stamp with curiosity as if they all want to burst out of their glass prison and get to us.
He grins again, staring up at our audience. His big hands squeeze my tits, pulls them to his mouth so he can suck and bite the waiting hard nipples again.

‘So easy. Just what I needed,’ he murmurs, stopping for a moment to watch my cunt swallowing him whole, tightening his grip as I slither down to the base of his cock and we both wait for the violent rhythm to begin. ‘You’ve made this so easy for me.’
His cock seems to swell inside me, igniting at all my nerve endings, and I have no choice but to move, easing myself up and down the long shaft, and once I start I can’t stop, so aware of those shocked, curious, horrified, titillated eyes above us, watching.
Every inch of him rubs against every screaming inch of me so that I can only go so far before slamming back down on him, groin on groin. I start to buck faster against him, my tits bouncing, my hair flying, my thighs tensing to grip his.
‘Let’s give them a show they’ll never forget,’ I shout.
He echoes my rhythm as if we’re dancing. How intimate you can get, so quickly, with a stranger. How hungry you can get for him. Joined to him by sex. He draws himself back as I rise off him, then slams back up inside as I ram back down. My voice is rising in a crescendo of desire, whimpering with the powerful sensations ripping through me, the cold morning air, so bright, lighting us up so everyone can see what we’re doing, more pleasure, rising to the peak of the pleasure, getting harder, getting wetter, tongues of fire streaking up inside me.
‘Watch, everyone!’ I shout out. ‘This is what that couple in the hotel were doing. Watch!’
Mr Grey’s eyes gleam behind the glasses and I see my breasts reflected there, bouncing frantically as I ride. Suddenly he plunges his cock in as deep as it will go. His mouth opens, but no sound comes out. My thighs spread round him, my breasts smothering him, the red silk shirt slipping over his face. He grips me and pumps into me so hard that I’m thrown back by the force of it. Then I’m moaning as he thrusts at me and I can tell he’s climaxing and now I’m coming too, arching away from him, the shape of us both reflected in the dim glass as we descend to the ground.
The wheel is coming on to the level, carrying us slowly towards the halt. I pull away from him, still panting. I’ve made his trousers wet. Mr Grey smiles. I pull the shirt across my bosom. He casually fastens one button. The gesture is almost as sexy as fucking me. We both glance at the pod sliding in behind us, and laugh. Everyone inside is pressed as close to the glass as they can get. The men are clutching their crotches. Several have video cameras. The women are crossing their legs, wriggling as if they want to wee. Everyone’s mouth is open.
My Mr Grey zips up his trousers. Then he stands, holds out my knickers, helps me on with them as if I’m a child. Helps me on with my jeans and my old Parka. What a complete gentleman. Something else in me stirs now. Lust, sure, but something else. I like him.
‘Thank you, Annabelle,’ he says.
The tense, sad man of earlier has vanished. He looks positively cocky. I’ve done that for him. As for me, I’m shaking, and hot, and euphoric.
‘How did you know my name?’
The doors slide open, surprising us with the cold air blasting in. Mr Grey pushes his glasses up his nose, once more the bashful stranger. He gives a curious farewell bow. I want to burst into tears as he walks away. I think of that battered suit, the amazing cock inside, which just filled me. I want to do it again. I bet he’d think of somewhere we cold go. The British Library, for example. Or the Reptile House at Regent’s Park zoo.
‘Label sewn into your anorak.’

I wriggle with amusement, but he’s gone. I walk along the Embankment for a while, my stomach rumbling with hunger now that the morning has started.
Mr Grey calls to me from the bridge above my head. ‘Same time tomorrow, Annabelle?’
Commuters are scurrying to work, heads down, eyes fixed on the pavement, faces white and drawn at the prospect of the week ahead.
But I can’t wait.

The post The Grey London Eye appeared first on sexstories.org.

Jordan opened the door to her student room. She stepped inside so Sam could squeeze past her.

“Ta-da! My new digs! What do you think?”

Sam took in the tiny room: the single bed on the one side; the desk with a few shelfs and a small wardrobe on the other. She peered into the en-suite bathroom with its bare necessities: a shower cubicle, toilet and sink.

In the week she’d been here, Jordan thought she’d done a decent job of making the generic space her own. She’d put all her books on the shelfs; arranged her computer set-up; hung her cherished fight shot poster of boxing champion Nicola Adams; and displayed a collage of pictures of her family and friends. This included the series of photo booth snaps that she and Sam took together religiously every year. The only thing she hadn’t found a space for was her punching bag.

“It’s great. It’s got all you need. And it’s clean,” her friend said encouragingly, while her face expressed the apprehension she undoubtedly felt about living in a student room at the age of 27; the age she and Sam shared.

“Yeah, it’s one of the newer accommodation blocks, so at least it’s still in good condition,” Jordan tried to reassure herself as well as Sam. “I’m glad I could get in this last-minute. I guess the new undergrads are not in yet. I’m lucky, really. It was this or staying with my parents and sharing a room with Tasha. And she’s almost seven now, so you know she would have a real attitude about that. Plus, I would have to take a train in every day.”

Jordan realised she was reiterating the merits of her living situation, mostly for her own benefit; to help her justify her decision to come here.

Sam smiled. “I think it’s great, Jordan,” she said again, while she sat down on the bed.

Jordan sat down too. “I have to share the kitchen with six others. That’s not great, but I’ll just invite myself over to yours for dinner all the time.”

“Of course, I would expect nothing else! I’m just so stoked that you’re here! We’re in the same town again, for the first time since high school. This is going to be amazing!”

“Well, you should thank Professor Harrison. And the university for poaching her with a full professorship,” Jordan said. “In my field, when your supervisor relocates halfway through your PhD, you go with them!”

Jordan’s PhD supervisor was quite the academic rock star, and Jordan had been over the moon when she had agreed to supervise her research. Her guidance had been everything Jordan had hoped for and more; she always knew exactly what to say or ask to make Jordan go the extra mile.

Needless to say, it had come as a shock when she had told Jordan she was changing jobs. She had presented Jordan with her options: continue at the same university and be allocated a new supervisor, or join Professor Harrison at the new place and finish her PhD there. After some online research, Jordan had realised that this sort of thing happened quite often, especially now that pressure in academic jobs was rising.

For Jordan, the decision was a no-brainer, really. There wasn’t anyone as good as Professor Harrison, and Jordan didn’t want to risk a new supervisor disagreeing with her entire research plan. Besides, there was the added benefit that she would be closer to her fieldwork and to her best friend.

“If I ever meet her, I will be sure to thank her for bringing my friend to me,” Sam said. “How’s uni anyway? How are the other students?”

“I haven’t actually met any of them yet. I’ve obviously come in at a weird time in the academic year, so it’s not like there’s been any inductions or anything. Some of them are probably also away for the summer. And I’m usually there in the evenings, when no one is around.”

“Maybe you should try going in when they are actually around.” Sam grinned and shook her head warily.

“You know me; my brain only really kicks in around mid-afternoon! And even then I usually start working in Starbucks while I wait for the caffeine to reach every cell in my brain, before even showing my face in the department.”

Sam laughed. “Yeah, I remember that all too well. It drove the teachers insane how useless you were in the mornings. Ask you anything in last period, though, and you were a freaking genius. They could never figure that one out.”

Jordan laughed too. “They thought I wouldn’t amount to much. I just needed a different schedule; that was all.”

“I always believed in you,” Sam said with a grin.

Jordan chuckled. “Of course you did, Miss World. Was that before or after you had a crush on me?”

“Every. Single. Time… Do you have to bring that up every single time? I should never have told you.”

“Where would be the fun in that?” Jordan teased her friend. “Besides, we might both still be chasing boys now if it weren’t for that.”

“What do you mean ‘still chasing boys’? I can’t recall we ever did much of that. Well, I certainly didn’t,” Sam countered.

“No, of course not. You were too busy mooning over me.” They both laughed.

“Speaking of chasing people,” Jordan continued, “where do you go here? What’s the scene like? Anything interesting?”

One downside of moving here was that in one fell swoop she’d abandoned most of her social life and all her favourite hang-outs.

“I don’t really do the scene… I think there’s one lesbian bar and a bunch of places for guys downtown, but I haven’t been,” Sam confessed.

“You’ve lived here for four years and you’ve never been to the one lesbian bar!? What’s wrong with you?”

Jordan wasn’t really all that surprised. Sam was never really that drawn to the meat market culture that invariably ensued in a small gay scene. She’d be a big hit there, though; Jordan was sure of that. With her dreadlocks and her huge green eyes with their intelligent gaze, and then the whole tomboy look she had going on; girls loved that.

“Where do you go then? It’s Friday night. Let’s go somewhere!” Surely, her friend did go out on a Friday night? “Oh wait,” she added, “as long as it’s not one of those old man joints you go to play pool.”

“They are not old man joints! But actually, on a Friday I usually join the guys from work at this cocktail place near the office. It’s a bit of a yuppie place but they have good cocktails and the bartender is nice.”

“Sounds great! Let’s go there,” Jordan said enthusiastically, eager to start exploring her new home town.

A bus ride later, they entered the bar and found a table towards the back of the room. Sam said a quick hello to her colleagues at another table and went to the bar to get some cocktails for her and Jordan. When she returned she said: “So, yeah, that’s her.” She nudged towards the bar.

Jordan looked in the indicated direction, slightly confused. That was who? The only person clearly in their line of sight was the bartender, who was facing away from them. The girl was busy putting bottles back on the shelves.

“The bartender?” Jordan asked, not quite sure what Sam wanted her to see.

Sam nodded and grinned. Jordan recognised that look. So that was what Sam meant when she said the bartender was ‘nice’: she was ‘capital N, Nice’ – nice to look at, and maybe more. Jordan turned her attention to the bar once again.

“She’s cute,” she said, a bit prematurely, as she could still only see the back of the girl.

The bartender had short, spiky hair that was bright pink. She was quite tall and had a good figure. She was wearing a black polo-shirt, with the logo and name of the bar. When the girl turned round, Jordan could finally see her face. She really was cute. Jordan now made out that her hair was actually blond with fierce pink highlights, which gave it an overall punky appearance. It fell in messy peaks over her forehead, ending just above her eyes. She had full lips and bright eyes that perused the whole bar; looking for anything she could do for her customers. She looked familiar. It was so out of context that it took Jordan a moment to realise that she had seen the bartender before.

“Hey, I know her!” She called out.

“What?” Sam gave her a baffled look. “You’ve been in town a week. How can you possibly know her?”

“Well, I don’t know her, know her. But I’ve seen her before. She goes to my new boxing gym.”

Jordan remembered seeing the girl there because of her notable appearance. Jordan had gone to the gym every morning the past week, joining in a group session on some mornings and sparring or working on the bag on others. She’d seen the girl in a group session, but she’d had been on the beginners’ side of the room, while Jordan trained with the advanced fighters.

“How do you already have a boxing gym here? You’ve been here a week!”

“Girl’s gotta train, Sam! I’ve got a fight coming up next weekend, remember? This place came highly recommended and my trainer hooked me up with one of the guys there.”

“Okay, fair enough. That makes sense. And she goes there too?” Sam asked incredulously, as if she couldn’t really picture the bartender as a boxer. Jordan had to agree that it didn’t quite fit the sweet face. But looks could be deceiving.

“Yeah, kickboxing training. I’ve only seen her twice, I think. In the mornings. When was it? Sunday definitely, and Tuesday maybe, or Wednesday?” Jordan waved her hand dismissively; it didn’t matter when she saw her. What mattered was that her friend clearly liked this girl and she had to find out more about this.

“Anyway, what do we know about her? Did you talk to her? Apart from ordering a drink, of course,” Jordan asked.

“Her name is Megan; I got that far. Other than that, I don’t know a hell of a lot.”

“But you are on it? I mean, you’re flirting with her?” Jordan couldn’t believe that was all there was to say. Sam was naturally charming, and a great flirt; if she had tried, it would have worked.

“I have tried… Trust me, I have. Every time I go over there, I try. The guys from work think it’s hilarious. They always make me get the drinks and quiz me after.”

“So, what happens?”

“Nothing happens,” Sam said with a hint of desperation. “It’s like she just doesn’t even notice that I’m flirting with her.”

Jordan looked at her sceptically and teased: “You mean, she’s immune to your charm?”

Sam laughed. “Looks like it… Either that, or she’s got a girlfriend and she’s trying to let me down easy.”

“Well, she is a cute bartender. She would get a lot of attention. Maybe she’s just so used to people flirting with her at work that she just shuts it all out,” Jordan offered.

“Or maybe she’s straight…,” she then added, not sure if she believed that herself. With that hair, her posture, and the way she moved, it was fair to assume she was interested in girls. But then, maybe it was just wishful thinking that she was.

“Yeah, I thought about that,” Sam replied, “but she does have a lot of the signs…”

When Jordan looked at her amusedly, Sam continued: “I know you don’t believe in the signs, but hear me out. Okay, the hair; for one. She has this really cool chunky watch; second. Sensible shoes, sneakers; third…”

“She works in a bar! She wouldn’t be wearing heels now, would she?” Jordan interrupted.

“Okay, okay. Same goes for her clothes, I guess: bar uniform shirt with comfy trousers. But she’s got no girly jewellery or anything; no makeup.”

“Again, jewellery would just get in the way working here,” Jordan debunked.

“Short fingernails,” Sam said triumphantly, as if that was irrefutable evidence.

“Hate to break it to you, but she’d have to keep them short for boxing anyway. And it is probably more hygienic working in a bar too.”

“Okay, fine… I give up. That’s all I’ve got. Like I said, she doesn’t respond to flirting or eye contact, so that doesn’t tell me anything either. No give-aways in our brief chats…” Sam sighed. “What do you think? Straight?”

“I wouldn’t think she’s straight,” Jordan said honestly, still studying the girl from their safe distance. “Good old social media doesn’t tell you anything?”

“Her Facebook profile is like fort Knox. Unless I friend her, which would be a bit weird.”

“Yeah, maybe… Tell you what, why don’t I see what I can find out at the gym? Sus her out?” Living in the same town now, Jordan was pleased that she was finally in a position where she could something like this for her friend.

“Sure. If you think you can get further than me,” Sam said sceptically. “Anything that helps me get to know her would be welcome, or anything to tell me there’s no point trying.”

“I’ll see what I can do. I like a challenge,” Jordan said, already thinking about her game plan.

Megan huffed at her strapping. Too tight, again. She could never get it right the first time, let alone getting it the same on both hands. She started unravelling her left hand to start over. At least she still had some time before the lesson started.

“It helps if you spread your fingers while you wrap it,” a voice near her said. Megan looked up to see the owner of the voice smiling at her. “It prevents it from being too tight when you get to the end,” the girl continued.

Megan smiled back shyly. “Thanks.”

That girl would know. Megan had seen her a few times in the past couple of weeks. She was new to the ‘Fight Fit’ gym, but she wasn’t new to the sport; she was a really good kickboxer. Definitely what Megan would call a ‘career’, a reference from ‘The Hunger Games’, meaning someone’s who’s born to do what they’re doing: fanatic and professional.

Megan had to admit that this career had drawn her attention from the moment she’d first seen her. Megan had been a little distracted during the trainings in which the girl had been in the same room. Apart from her obvious fighting skills, she was striking: short, but lean and muscular, with dark skin and a large mob of beautiful curly hair. She was cheerful and her booming laugh could frequently be heard across the room to the beginners’ area. Megan had often looked over to see Jordan grin from ear to ear, her laugh lighting up her whole face.

Sensing that the girl was still watching her, Megan looked up again. She noticed that her usually wild hair was now tied neatly into cornrows, and – Megan was shocked to see – she had a black eye. Her left eye sported a thick dark band underneath, and the area around it was puffy. It looked fresh.

Was she alright? Megan contemplated whether to say anything. The girl had undoubtedly seen her looking at it, so it seemed rude to ignore it. But what if something bad had happened to her and she didn’t want to discuss it with a stranger? After all, Megan didn’t even know her.

Despite herself, she asked: “Are you okay?” She gave an apologetic smile, indicating it was okay if she didn’t want to talk about it.

“Oh this?” The girl pointed nonchalantly at her face. “Yeah, it’s nothing. I was in a fight.”

Megan tried to keep the shock she felt off her face. That must have been a hell of a fight. She’d seen a few brawls break out – that was inevitable when you worked in a bar – but usually the shiners resulting from that weren’t quite this spectacular. Also, it was usually the guys breaking into fights for no apparent reason. What kind of places did this girl hang out in?

Megan must have been unsuccessful in hiding her feelings, because the girl chuckled and added: “In the ring, I meant. Boxing…” She shadowboxed to illustrate her point.

“Oh…” Megan guessed she was probably equally bad at keeping her relief from showing now.

“How did it go?” She then asked, regretting it instantly. It looked like it hadn’t gone so well.

“It went quite well. I won with a technical knockout.” The girl grinned as if to say that was nothing too.

“Oh…” Megan said again, cursing herself for her lack of eloquence. What on earth was a technical knockout? “I just thought…” She gestured at her face. “… That maybe it hadn’t.”

“You should have seen the other girl.” The girl smiled and then winced in pain. “Ouch! I tried to wink. Clearly, I can’t do that right now.” She laughed her booming laugh. It was contagious and Megan had to laugh too.

“Do you do fights often?” She then asked, intrigued.

“Every now and then. Just boxing though. I have only been kickboxing for a few years. That’s just for fun.”

Megan suddenly felt small and insignificant next to this confident woman, who must be at least a few years younger than her. She’d only been kickboxing for a few years and that was just for fun? Megan had only been at it for almost a year and she considered it quite serious business.

As if she’d read her thoughts, the girl asked: “You do kickboxing, right?”

“Yeah,” Megan said. “I’m a beginner, though.”

“You look like you know what you’re doing.” The girl flinched. “Ouch, I did it again! Stupid.”

Megan laughed. Why did she keep trying to wink at her? And what did she just say? Did that mean she’d been watching Megan? That was embarrassing. Megan felt like she spent a lot of time just trying to coordinate her hands and feet to move at the right time.

She said shyly: “Thanks. Nothing compared to you, though.”

“I’ve been doing it since I was 15, so that’s not a fair comparison,” the girl said kindly. “Hey, what days are you here?”

“Usually Wednesday mornings and Sunday mornings, for the all levels kickboxing lessons,” Megan replied, before asking: “Why?” Why was this girl still talking to her? Why was she so interested in Megan’s schedule?

“No reason. I’ll probably bump into you again then.” The girl smiled and picked her bag off the floor. “Well, I better get started. I’m just doing some bag work today.”

“What days are you here?” Megan asked quickly.

The thought that she was going to bump into this girl regularly was mildly distressing. That was probably the end of her kickboxing education. If she wasn’t careful, she’d get so distracted that she’d be knocked down by her classmates. Speaking of embarrassment. The least she could do was mentally prepare for the days she knew the girl would be here.

“Every day, pretty much. Always in the morning. Unless I have a meeting or something.” She turned away.

Megan had so many questions. She was here every day? Didn’t she work in the mornings? And what meetings? What did she do?

The girl was walking away now, so clearly the conversation was over. When she reached the door that led into the training hall, she turned round and said: “I’m Jordan, by the way.”

Leaning against the door post, she waited for Megan to respond. She didn’t seem to care one bit about the other people waiting for their lesson to begin, who were now all staring at both of them.

Megan mumbled her name, a little embarrassed to be the centre of attention.

“Nice to meet you, Megan,” Jordan said cheerily and at that she disappeared through the doorway.

Megan couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. Why had this super sexy, bad-ass boxer girl just out of the blue struck up a conversation with her?

As was to be expected, Megan’s lesson was a bit of a write-off. From where she was training with the other beginners, she could see into the next room, where they kept some gym and boxing equipment for individual or personal training. In that room, Jordan had started warming up by jumping rope: not just straight-forward swinging the thing and jumping at the right time – which was already enough of a challenge for Megan – the girl knew all the fancy swings and cross-overs, double-speeds, whatever it was all called.

Enhanced by a sexy sheen of perspiration from her warm-up, she’d then started her bag work, punching and kicking as if her life depended on it, alternating between fast and hard moves. And as if that wasn’t enough distraction, she’d finished by lifting weights, flexing her sexy arm muscles and – while facing away from Megan – showing off an intricate web of muscles in her back and shoulders, half of which Megan never even realised existed.

What they’d done in her own lesson, Megan couldn’t say. She sure hoped Jordan hadn’t been watching her too. Megan had stumbled through every move today, to the great annoyance of her training partner.

When she got home after her training, Megan was still thinking about Jordan. She wondered what had brought the gorgeous boxer to ‘Fight Fit’. Who was she? Was she new in town?

She opened the browser on her phone and searched: ‘Jordan boxing amateur fight’. Against her expectations, she got some promising search results. The search engine had clearly taken her location into account: she found an article about an amateur boxing match in the area last Friday night, in which one ‘Jordan Wells’ had competed. There was even a picture. Megan was elated when she recognised the girl, having the upper hand even in the picture. She had a look of pure concentration while hitting her opponent with a right cross.

Further down, there was another picture of her, proudly holding up a trophy. She looked great: grinning broadly; her eye not quite swollen yet; one muscular arm extended in the air; her six pack clearly visible between the boxing shorts and the short sports top. Megan sighed deeply. She hesitated and then saved the photo to her phone; there was nothing wrong with some secret admiring, was there?

Encouraged, Megan changed her search to ‘Jordan Wells boxing’ and scrolled through the results. Most were mentions of fights she’d been in – there were quite a few – and reports of these fights. The girl had clearly been modest when she said she fought ‘every now and then’: she was well-known in the amateur boxing scene and had won several titles. There were a few pictures, many clearly from some years ago.

The next link Megan clicked was a profile piece on her from five years ago. ‘A flyweight to keep an eye on’, a sub-caption said. According to this article, Jordan came from a family of boxers: her father had been a professional boxer but had now retired from the sport. Her two older brother were both well-known names in the amateur boxing circuit too. It was unsurprisingly then, the article stated, that Jordan would follow in her father’s and brothers’ footsteps. There was a picture of her with her two brothers and her father, all of them in boxing gloves posing proudly. At the time of writing, Jordan had just won her first amateur boxing title.

Megan whistled between her teeth. Impressive, and just a tad intimidating. This girl may have been friendly to her – and she may be sexy as hell – but she was definitely out of her league. She resisted the urge to look Jordan up on Facebook. If she did that, she’d surely show up in her suggested friends, and Jordan would know Megan had been snooping her. Megan stared at the picture she’d saved; Jordan was so far out of her league, she had a league of her own.

Jordan whistled as she walked into the gym. Today was Sunday, so Sam’s heartthrob Megan should be here again. Jordan was pleased with her intel gathering so far. She had no conclusive evidence of her orientation or her relationship status yet, but she’d done some groundwork; made first contact.

Sam had been right in saying that Megan had not been easy to gauge. Obviously, Jordan wasn’t going to lay it on thickly, but she’d figured some light flirting to test the waters couldn’t hurt. Megan hadn’t responded to that at all. The fact that Jordan hadn’t been able to wink at her with her silly black eye probably didn’t help either.

Today, it was time for stage two. She spotted Megan near the counter, putting on her strapping. She was nearly done with her second hand.

“How’s that feeling now? Did you use my tip on spreading your fingers?” Jordan said as she approached Megan. The double meaning wasn’t lost on her, but she was certain it would be lost on Megan.

Megan looked up and smiled. “I did. It feels much better now. Not so tight.”

“Great. Anything to keep a girl’s hands in good shape.” There she went again; she couldn’t help it.

Jordan got her own strapping out of her bag and started wrapping her hands. She used her neon yellow wraps today, which matched her shirt. One might as well look the part. She saw Megan watching her.

“You make it look so easy…,” the girl said enviously.

“Years of practice…,” Jordan replied, as she finished her first hand in the exact same spot as usual, the Everlast logo facing up. She started on her second hand with just as much ease.

“Hey, your eye is looking much better,” Megan burst out suddenly.

Jordan grinned. “Yeah. I guess it would still be a bit green or yellow but you can’t see that on my skin anyway, so it looks like I’m all fixed!”

As people started going into the main hall, Megan moved to join them. “Well, see you later then,” she said with a little wave.

“Hold up, I’m coming.”

Jordan had decided to join the kickboxing group sessions more regularly. There was plenty she could still learn from the instructors and it was a nice change from her individual training and sparring with her coach. Most importantly, it gave her a chance to find out more about Megan.

“You’re joining this one?” Megan seemed surprised.

“Yeah, of course. Why not?”

She lined up next to Megan for the start of the lesson and then jogged off at her own pace for the warm-up. No need to keep the poor girl occupied the whole lesson. She wasn’t here to be interrogated after all.

After the warm-up and stretching, Jordan caught up with Megan again. “Hey, do you want to partner with me today?”

“Erm… I usually partner with one of the other beginners…” Megan seemed taken aback.

“You can’t learn as much from them. It’s always better to work with someone who’s a bit more advanced than you.”

“But you won’t be able to learn anything from me… I don’t want to hold you back.”

Jordan was surprised by Megan’s reluctance. Why did she worry about that? “Nonsense. You look fit. I’m sure you can keep me occupied.”

She winked without thinking about it. Pleased that it didn’t hurt her anymore, she exclaimed: “Hey, I can wink again!”

Megan smiled and blushed. Jordan noticed for the first time that she had two little dimples that appeared in her cheeks when she smiled. She really was adorable. No wonder Sam liked her.

“Just don’t hit my eye, okay?” Jordan said with a grin, deciding to take Megan’s silence as a consent. Megan responded with a look that said she wouldn’t even dream of it.

As Megan walked off in front of her, Jordan noticed that she did have a bit of a lesbian swagger. Sam would certainly consider that a sign, but Jordan wouldn’t exactly call that irrefutable proof. Megan turned round and blushed again as she saw Jordan looking at her. Jordan smiled at her and caught up with her, pulling her gloves on as she went.

The lesson kicked off with bag work: starting with single punches and building up to simple combinations. Jordan watched Megan as she punched and kicked. She missed some of the speed and smoothness in her combinations that came with years of practice, but her technique was good and she had good power.

“Next time, bring your fist back to your chin after that jab. This bag is not going to hit you back, but an opponent will,” Jordan said, getting distracted from her mission to find out more about Megan and slipping into trainer mode instead.

Megan proved to be a quick learner. She followed Jordan’s pointers precisely and asked for clarification when she wasn’t sure. They switched roles and Megan seemed a bit taken aback by the force of Jordan’s blows.

“Sorry, is that alright?” Jordan asked her, after the bag had bowled straight into her at Jordan’s first punch.

“Yeah, sorry. I just need to hold it better,” Megan said with a pained expression. “The other beginners don’t punch this hard.” She rubbed her upper arm where the bag, or her possibly her own glove, had hit her.

As they moved on, Jordan was pleased to see Megan watching her closely. Paying attention to some else’s technique was half the work.

“Remember what I said about the power for your low kicks coming from your hips? See where I start mine? Here, from the back. And then I spin on my front foot to let that swing all the way through.” She demonstrated slowly.

“Hmmm,” Megan mumbled, her gaze firmly on Jordan’s legs. Jordan demonstrated one more time, encouraged by Megan’s keen attention to her instructions.

The lesson flew by and, despite the fact that she hadn’t found out more about Megan, Jordan was pleased that they had partnered together. She liked teaching the other girl and she had the impression that Megan had quite enjoyed it too.

“See, that wasn’t so bad, was it? Now will you partner with me more often?” Jordan asked Megan, as she pulled off her gloves.

Megan smiled and said: “Maybe.” That was good enough; she’d take that as a yes.

As the next group streamed into the gym, Jordan lost sight of Megan when she was gathering her things. She figured the girl was probably in the changing rooms already. Jordan was heading straight out today, having decided to take advantage of the glorious sunshine by doing some agility drills in the nearby park. She would have liked to have said goodbye to Megan, but she’d see her again next time.

Leaving the gym, Jordan was surprised to see Megan outside, talking to someone on a motorbike. Some bull dyke, by the looks of it: tall and skinny, leather jacket, aviators; definitely too cool for school, this one. Who was she? Megan’s girlfriend? There’s was no question what team that one played for; she was a hundred-footer. So that would mean Megan was into girls too. But taken, unfortunately.

Jordan hang back for a moment and watched them. They didn’t seem overly romantic with each other. Maybe they were just friends? She couldn’t be sure. It could be a romantic gesture, to wait for your girlfriend outside the gym; take her off on a motorbike adventure? You wouldn’t do that with a friend, would you?

Jordan walked up to them, carefully scrutinising the biker chick as she approached.

“See you next week, Megan,” she said nonchalantly, while she threw another examining look at the stranger. Was she a threat to Sam’s affections?

The woman grinned cheekily at her, oozing confidence. She was attractive too. If she was indeed Megan’s girlfriend – Jordan hated to admit – Sam had her work cut out for her.

While Jordan walked towards the park, she shot her friend a message: [Partnered with your girl Megan today… Chatted to her a bit more but still don’t know for sure if she’s gay.]

She contemplated adding that she was quite impressed with Megan’s kickboxing skills, but Sam probably wouldn’t be overly interested in that. Her friend got back to her immediately.

Time to tell her the other part: [I did see her chatting to some butch on a motorbike afterwards :S Could be her girlfriend? Not sure…]

Sam was still on her phone: [Hmmm damn… Did it look like it could be? What was she like?]

Immediately after came another message: [At least that would mean she’s gay… Silver linings :)]

Jordan chuckled. What was she like? How could she put this diplomatically? [Hundred-footer. Androgynous type. She was kinda hot, tbh. But so are you! You could totally take her But maybe it’s not even her gf. It’s not like they were making out or anything. Could be just a friend…]

Sam replied: [And if she has gay friends…]

Jordan could almost see the radars spinning in her friend’s head. Always analysing the situation. Always hoping for the best. In this case, hoping that Megan having gay friends meant that she was gay too.

Jordan tried to ground her: [Then she’s definitely not homophobic… Silver linings :)]

She followed up with another message: [Anyway, I’ll keep at it. In the meantime, you may want to see what you can do to increase your cool factor. The other chick has a motorbike, just saying… ;)]

Sam sent back a crying laughing emoticon.

Megan sat down heavily at a window seat in the almost empty bus. Her head was sore and she was regretting her decision to go to the gym this morning. It had been easy to be tough and dedicated before going out to celebrate passing her exam last night. She’d made a deal with herself that she could go out, if she’d still go to the training this morning. After all, she’d already missed Wednesday’s training because of her exams.

It would be bad for her fitness, she’d told herself. What she didn’t quite want to admit was that she also didn’t want to go a whole week without seeing Jordan. Now, her hangover pounding, she wasn’t sure if seeing Jordan in this state was the best idea.

To make matters worse, she had to go meet up with Riley for coffee after the training. Last night, it had seemed like a great idea to meddle in her friend Rowan’s affairs, and show Riley – the girl Rowan was clearly meant to be with – the way to the stoic mechanic’s heart. Megan didn’t completely regret sending the invite to Riley, but she hadn’t expected the girl to want to meet up so quickly; the morning after. Megan hadn’t even had time to get it straight in her head what she wanted to tell the girl.

She tried to replay last night’s conversation with Rowan in her head. It was obvious that she and Riley liked each other, but Rowan wasn’t going to admit that. That was clearly throwing a spanner in the works, so she’d have to tell Riley about Rowan’s commitment issues, her history with Diana, her silly self-imposed rules. The girl could then use that to turn the situation around.

Megan marvelled at how clear it was to her what needed to happen in Rowan and Riley’s love lives, while her own was still such a mess; or rather, non-existing. Yes, she had a crush on her gorgeous kickboxing partner, but that seemed to be going nowhere at all.

She and Jordan had been partnering once a week for a few weeks now, but she had no idea what Jordan thought about her, if she thought anything about her at all. The girl was always friendly to her; every week they had a nice time chatting. However, it mostly seemed to be about the exercises they were doing, instructions to improve her technique, advice on boxing equipment. She still didn’t know anything about Jordan; nor had she told her much about herself. How could she? A boxing gym was hardly the time and place to divulge your life story or ask personal questions.

Megan had also enjoyed the occasional brief touches that were inevitable in combat sports, but she couldn’t say if there was more there. She didn’t even know if Jordan was gay.

And the more they repeated their little routine, the harder it became to turn it into something more. They were in a vicious circle, spiralling deeper and deeper into that dreaded friend zone; if they could even be considered friends. How could she break that cycle? Why was it this complicated to just meet someone and fall in mutual love?

Last night, Rowan had told her to flirt with Jordan, to show her that she was interested. That was easy for Rowan to say; every word out of her mouth was naturally flirtatious. Megan had no idea how to flirt, let alone with someone she actually liked. She considered it a great achievement when she could keep up a normal conversation with Jordan without falling apart swooning.

She pictured herself walking into the gym today, set on breaking the cycle. What would Rowan do? Pin her against the wall and kiss her? Tell her that she thought she was hot, and would she like to see her motorbike? Megan chuckled. Even in her head, Rowan was a bit of a cliché sometimes. But whatever she did, it worked for her.

That wouldn’t work for Megan, though. She could never pull off something like that, and she wouldn’t want to. She had to find her own way. ‘Flirt with her, let her know you’re interested.’ Right.

Still deep in thought, Megan walked into the gym. There was no one in the waiting area but she heard noises from the main training hall. She was late; they had already started. Cursing herself, Megan rushed in, dumped her bag and quickly grabbed her strapping. Now she’d have to put that on while she was running, as if it wasn’t challenging enough already.

Someone came running up to her and tapped the back of her head with a perfectly wrapped hand, today in royal blue. “Hey, there you are!”

Guess who. Did she sound excited to see Megan? That was probably just in Megan’s head.

“I didn’t even realise I was late until I got here.”

Jordan kept running beside her, instead of jogging off at her own – almost double – speed, as usual. “Well, at least you made it. I missed you on Wednesday.”

Megan’s heart fluttered. Did she mean she personally missed her? Or that her absence was noted? The latter was better than nothing, she guessed. It was probably that. They didn’t partner on Wednesdays because Jordan did her own training on those days, so it wouldn’t really have mattered to her if Megan was there or not.

Megan struggled through the warm-up. Her head was pounding and she had no energy. At least she wasn’t so hungover that she had to worry about being sick, at least not yet. She’d take it easy today to make sure of that. That would be one certain way to ruin her chances with Jordan, forever.

Of all days, Jordan had chosen today to stick by her side, cheerfully making small-talk. Megan wheezed her responses between press-ups and jumping jacks. When, at last, the signal came to stop running and start stretching, Megan leaned forward, catching her breath.

“Are you alright?” Jordan asked, still right there to witness her in all her weakness.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I just need a minute. It’s just my head…”

Megan looked up and realised everyone else was already stretching in pairs. She panicked. This part was always done with whoever you happened to be standing next to at the end of the warm-up. That person had never been Jordan before.

Jordan was now looking at her expectantly. “Do you want to start?” She offered.

Megan nodded. This was more than she was prepared for, but there was no way out. Jordan knelt so that Megan could put her foot on her shoulder. She then came up slightly until Megan indicated it was high enough. Just what she needed: her legs spread wide open, her sweaty foot right by Jordan’s face, Jordan’s hand on her love handle to support her. She breathed out slowly, fighting the panic.

Jordan looked at her with a concerned expression. “Are you sure you’re alright? You look a little pale.”

“Yeah, it’s nothing. It will pass. I just need to take it a bit easy today.” Megan didn’t dare to look at her. Thankfully, it was time to rotate to the side, so she was preoccupied with that.

Jordan gave her a quizzical look and then laughed. “Holy shit. Are you hungover?” She whispered. When Megan didn’t respond, she continued: “What did you get up to last night? Wild party?”

Megan rotated her leg to the back, realising full on well that her butt was on display, right in front of Jordan face. If she could just be swallowed by the earth now, that would be great.

“I was celebrating that I passed my exam. That’s also why I wasn’t here on Wednesday: exams.”

“Oh congratulations! So you’re a student?” Jordan didn’t sound overly surprised. Usually people were; they just didn’t expect a 32 year old to be doing their undergrad.

“Yeah, I went back to uni two years ago. I dropped out the first time round, but I figured I give it another go.” She put her leg down and propped the other on Jordan’s shoulder. “Older and wiser now, and all that. I’ve realised how important a degree is.”

“Tell me about it. So what’s your degree?”

“Sociology, second year Bachelor’s now.”

“No way! At the uni here?”

“Yeah, why?” Megan asked, wondering why that was the part Jordan seemed surprised about.

“I go there too! Criminology department; same building. Mind you, only for the past two months or so.”

Jordan carefully put Megan’s other stretched leg down. Megan knelt to receive Jordan’s foot. She got up slowly and waited for Jordan to stop her. She didn’t. Megan was shocked to see that the shorter girl could stretch her leg up all the way to Megan’s shoulder while she stood completely upright.

“Wow, you’re very flexible…,” she said before she could stop herself. Inappropriate thoughts flooded her brain. She felt her cheeks heating up and knew she was blushing.

Jordan laughed loudly. “Yeah, it comes in handy. Trust me.”

Megan believed that. She didn’t want to think about all the ways in which that would come in handy. She tried not to look at Jordan, who was right in front of her, too close for comfort, hard to avoid.

“Are you doing your Master’s?” She asked quickly, trying to change the topic. Jordan didn’t seem the typical undergrad age either; better to overestimate her than to underestimate her.

“PhD,” Jordan replied simply, while rotating her leg to the side, still stretched up fully.

Of course she was doing a PhD; as if she wasn’t perfect enough without being academically gifted too. Megan swallowed hard, trying to keep her emotions under control. It was as if someone had engineered her perfect girlfriend and put her right in front of Megan as a test: here you go, all you have to do is get her; good luck. Megan felt more intimidated than ever.

“I’ve never seen you on campus,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Jordan rotated again, now facing away from Megan with her leg stretched back. Megan couldn’t help staring at her perfect rear, right in front of her. She liked this part, now that the roles were reversed. She tried to block out more thoughts of Jordan stretched out like this in different contexts.

“I’m mostly there in the evenings. I like it when it’s quiet in the department. Plus, my brain doesn’t really work before mid-afternoon anyway.” She laughed.

Megan was sure that Jordan’s brain ‘not working’ was still more potent than other people’s at full capacity.

“During the day I mostly hang out in a coffee place somewhere, or in the library,” Jordan added. She switched legs.

“Oh, that explains it. I’m only there during the day. I work in the evenings,” Megan said.

“Where do you work?”

“I have two bar jobs,” Megan started. She realised that this could be a chance to try and get a little more information. “I work at ‘Shake ‘n’ Stir’, this cocktail place downtown, and at ‘Velvet’, the lesbian bar.”

She kept a close look on Jordan’s face as she said this. Did she see a little twinkle in Jordan’s eyes when she mentioned Velvet? Megan wasn’t sure there had been any reaction. It was too subtle; she needed more.

“Have you ever been?” She added quickly. Obviously, she would have seen Jordan if she’d been there on a night she’d been working, but she could hardly ask: ‘Hey, are you a lesbian, by the way?’

“I think I’ve been to the cocktail place… I definitely haven’t been to Velvet.”

This still didn’t tell Megan anything. Definitely haven’t been there, as in ‘I would never go there because I’m not a lesbian?’ or ‘I didn’t know it existed, sounds interesting’? This was so frustrating. What would Rowan do now?

“It’s a nice hangout. You should come by sometime,” Megan said, without daring to look at Jordan.

If the girl was shocked to be invited to a lesbian haunt, she didn’t show it. “I will,” she replied, causing Megan’s insides to flutter excitedly.

The rest of the training was a blur to Megan. She was riding her high, unreasonably proud of herself for inviting Jordan to come to Velvet. Of course, it wasn’t an explicit invitation and there was no guarantee that she would come, but it was great progress. Megan realised it also didn’t necessarily mean her crush was gay, but there was a fair chance. At the very least, she wasn’t opposed to hanging out with lesbians. Megan would take that with both hands.

After the training, Megan hang back a little. She had to meet Riley straight after, so she had to shower and change at the gym. She didn’t really want to be in the changing room at the same time as Jordan, having to undress in front of her. She gave Jordan a head start and then went in. It was empty, apart from Jordan’s clothes lying on a bench. The Sunday classes were never really busy and most of the others were guys. The few other girls that were there must shower at home, like Megan usually did.

She heard one of the showers running. Jordan was in there, naked. The thought made Megan nervous. She quickly got into one of the other cubicles and undressed. She hated showering at the gym. She never knew where to take her clothes off, where to put them, when to put them back on. She didn’t particularly want to undress in the outside changing room, in front of other people, but her clothes always ended up getting wet inside the cubicle.

After an awkward wash, she emerged from the cubicle fully dressed, apart from her shoes and socks. Jordan was still there, wearing nothing but her underwear. Megan looked away quickly, partly to respect the girl’s privacy and partly because she didn’t trust her own reaction.

Jordan looked at her with surprise: “You showered here today?”

Flirt a little, let her know you’re interested. Megan still heard the echo in her head. Encouraged by her earlier success, she quickly said: “You seem happy about that.”

Jordan smiled broadly and said: “Maybe I am.” She didn’t seem to mind standing nearly naked in front of Megan, her gorgeous body fully on display. It was seriously distracting.

“I usually run home afterwards, so I shower at home. I can’t today; I have somewhere I need to be. You must have thought I was just a stinky person. I mean, not that you would have been thinking of me…,” Megan stammered. She cursed herself. Flirt-mode gone, awkwardness increased to 300%: back to normal.

Jordan chuckled. “Maybe I have,” she said, before turning away to start getting dressed.

Megan felt her face flush. She was sure she was bright red now. What did she mean by that? How could she just say something like that and then casually get dressed, at her leisure.

Getting distracted from her analysis, Megan couldn’t help staring at Jordan’s chiselled body. She could see where her body confidence came from. Jordan appeared to have well-defined muscles everywhere, and there wasn’t one part of her lean body that had any excess fat or squishy bits. So this was what boxing every day gave you. Megan couldn’t bring up the discipline to do that herself, but if she had a girlfriend who did… She quickly dismissed the thought; she was getting ahead of herself.

Jordan was wearing black lacy hipster bottoms that framed and embellished her round butt like a piece of art. Megan felt her heart start beating faster as her eyes traced the perfect curves. Jordan’s bra was plain and red, and didn’t match the knickers.

Despite herself, Megan took in every inch of the girl’s body. Staring felt naughty, but she couldn’t help it; her eyes were magnetically drawn to the smooth dark skin. She felt her own body respond; that familiar warm tingling feeling between her thighs, calling attention to itself, confirming her attraction to this girl. She was lost.

While Jordan still faced away from her, Megan gazed in the mirror in front of her to check out the pronounced abs she’d only seen in the cherished picture on her phone, and the soft tops of her modest breasts, visible over the edge of her bra.

Mirror! The realisation came way too late. Megan quickly raised her eyes to Jordan’s face in the reflection. Jordan met her gaze and grinned amusedly. Busted. Megan looked away in shock. How much had she seen? Had she seen the whole of Megan’s ogle fest? This was so embarrassing! She wished she could run off, but she still hadn’t put her shoes on because she was too busy being a perv.

“So, what’s next then?” Jordan startled Megan with her sudden question, breaking the awkward silence.

“What?” She didn’t mean between them, did she? What was next after Megan shamelessly checking her out?

“You said you had somewhere you needed to be. Where are you off to?”

Megan sighed with relief. “I’m meeting someone for coffee. A girl I know. We made plans last night.” Why did she have to say all that? Why did it matter who she was meeting and when the plans were made? Stupid.

“Oh really? Does that have anything to do with you partying so hard last night?” Jordan seemed very entertained by her awkwardness.

“Yes… No! Sort of…” It wasn’t really related, but if she hadn’t had a few drinks, she probably wouldn’t have been brave enough to message Riley.

“Oh, that sounds intriguing,” Jordan laughed.

“It’s a long story,” Megan mumbled, ready to be done with this conversation, before she embarrassed herself even more.

“I have time…” Jordan winked at her, yet again. That was her signature move, it seemed. She clearly had no idea what she was doing to Megan.

“I don’t,” Megan said, a bit more abrupt than she intended, while quickly pulling on her shoes.

“Right. You’re meeting a girl.” Jordan said this with such a suggestive grin that Megan heard herself responding: “It’s not like that!”

“Like what?” Jordan countered, still grinning.

This girl was infuriating. It wasn’t like what she had been insinuating: like a date. That was what she’d been insinuating, wasn’t it? Megan knew she was getting hot and flustered again.

“I have to go,” she said. She grabbed her bag.

When she got to the door, she hesitated. She’d made so much progress today with Jordan. She’d also embarrassed herself to no end, but still; something told her she couldn’t leave it like this. There were some indications that Jordan might be gay, weren’t there? She sure didn’t seem to mind when Megan was checking her out. Rowan had been convinced that Jordan was gay; she had even thought she was into Megan. Rowan would tell Megan to bring it home now; take the shot; score the goal. What was the worst that could happen?

“Hey, can I have your number? Just in case…,” Megan asked. Just in case what? You idiot. “Maybe we can meet for a coffee on campus sometime, or something?” She added. That was better.

Jordan didn’t respond straightaway. She seemed to hesitate. Megan felt her nerve crumble. Did she have it all wrong? Jordan wasn’t gay? She was in a relationship? She wasn’t into her? She thought Megan was just some creepy perv that was now definitely crossing a boundary?

Megan was still riding this wave of panic when Jordan said: “Sure. Give me your phone.”

Was she sure? Why did she hesitate? Megan handed over her phone with trembling hands and watched as Jordan added her contact information. Was that even her real number? Megan reprimanded herself for thinking this way. There was only one way to find out. In a while, when her nerves and her self-esteem had recovered…

The message Jordan had been expecting came a few days after she’d given Megan her number. She stared at the screen, wondering what to do.

There was nothing implied in the message, no flirting; not even a kiss at the end of it. Everything to suggest they’d only be meeting up as friends. But Jordan had her suspicions that Megan may have different intentions.

At their last training together, Jordan had finally made some headway in getting to know Megan a little better. After weeks of being a closed book, Megan had revealed that she was a student, and – the whopper – that she worked at a lesbian bar. Of course, this in itself was no guarantee that she was a lesbian, but in the space of a single training, she’d given Jordan plenty of reason to belief that she was.

At first Jordan had been happy with all her newfound knowledge, and had been looking forward to telling Sam all about it. Then she’d caught Megan checking her out, to her great amusement. One more point for the gay theory, and possibly a sign she was single.

A thought had suddenly hit Jordan when Megan had stammered through the few minutes following that, clearly mortified to have been found staring. The realisation had been lying just below the surface, waiting for the right moment to jump out at Jordan. Was Megan attracted to her? In that moment, she’d replayed their interactions in her head. Megan hadn’t been very obvious, but it was possible. She had told Jordan to come to Velvet. Was that more than a casual promotion of her bar?

When Megan had asked for her number, her suspicions were confirmed. Megan liked her. That wasn’t part of the plan. She was supposed to fall for Sam. Jordan had hesitated to give her number; it would give Megan the wrong idea. However, when she saw the disappointment in Megan’s face, she’d caved, feeling like a terrible friend to Sam.

What made things worse was that, if Jordan was completely honest with herself, she had to admit that she was quite enamoured with the pink-haired cutie herself. It had started as a keen understanding of Sam’s affection for the girl, but it had quickly begun to live a life of its own as she saw more of Megan.

It was the little things that made her so adorable: the way she still struggled with her strapping; the way she beat herself up over awkward things she said; the way she smiled; the way she blushed, all the time; those cute dimples in her cheeks.

Jordan had pushed these thoughts away and focused on her mission. She’d be more than happy if Megan and Sam ended up together, she’d told herself. She would get over this little crush – if it should even be called that – in no time.

But now that she knew that Megan liked her, not Sam, things had gotten significantly more complicated. Thoughts of what could be were becoming more persistent and harder to push away. Moreover, her mind seemed intent on calling bullshit on all her earlier thoughts: would she really be happy if Megan and Sam were a couple? Would she truly get over her crush?

Clearly the plan had backfired. It had taken its course for too long. Jordan blamed herself. She should have been quicker about getting the information and finding a way to bring Sam to Megan’s attention. But how could she do that now? How could she rectify this situation? She could hardly accept Megan’s invite and send Sam to have coffee with her instead.

There was still the question if Megan had a girlfriend. Jordan could use the coffee date to get a conclusive answer on that; it would be much easier to bring that up over coffee than over a left hook.

She reprimanded herself. Of course Megan didn’t have a girlfriend; she was asking her out, after all. But that could still be just as friends, couldn’t it? It wasn’t certain that she wanted more. Surely she was with that handsome biker chick Jordan had seen her with? Who else could she be, but Megan’s girlfriend?

And if Megan had a girlfriend, she wouldn’t end up with either her or Sam. They could both forget about her; their friendship would be safe; Megan was happy. It was the best scenario for all. All Jordan had to do was find out for sure that this was the case. This wasn’t just an excuse to accept the invitation. They would just meet up once: Jordan would find out the truth, be casual and stick to friend level. That could work, she convinced herself.

She opened her diary on her phone. She’d entered in capital letters ‘FIELDWORK’ across Friday, Saturday and Sunday. She sighed. That was right. She was away this weekend, cramming in a record number of interviews in two different places. She was disappointed. Not only could she not meet up with Megan on Friday, she’d also miss the training on Sunday. But at least it gave her some time to get her head in the game.

She typed a reply: [I can’t this week. I’m in prison.] She added ‘Next week?’ but deleted it. Was she really sure she wanted to do this? She didn’t want to lead Megan on. She hit send.

Almost immediately her phone informed her that Megan was typing. After a moment, her status switched back to ‘Online’, following by ‘Megan is typing’. This cycle repeated itself a few times. What was she doing?

At last, her reply came, which did not warrant this much typing time: [Visiting someone?]

What was she talking about? Jordan reread her own message and immediately understood Megan’s confusion. Jordan hadn’t told her anything about the topic of her PhD; that she had to visit prisons to interview the detainees. Jordan was so used to saying this to her friends that she hadn’t considered how it may come across to an outsider. She chuckled. It was a great opportunity to mess with Megan a little bit.

Megan response came immediately now: [OMG! That’s not what I meant!!! I swear!] This was followed by a message with three shocked emoticons.

Jordan laughed. She could imagine Megan’s horrified expression. She was probably blushing too. Poor girl.

She typed back: [I’m just messing with you ;)] [I interview prisoners for my research. I’ll be away Fri-Sun, so won’t be at the training Sun either :(]

Seeing the message go through, Jordan realised that the sad emoticon was too much. It could too easily be interpreted as her being sad about not seeing Megan, instead of missing the training. Jordan wasn’t entirely sure which one she meant. Either way, she shouldn’t say things like that if she was going to stick to the friend zone; and she had to.

Megan’s response interrupted her trail of thought: [Don’t do that! I thought you were upset. My poor heart couldn’t take that.]

Jordan smiled. Megan was clearly a little braver and more forward in her messages.

Megan’s next message flew in: [Your research sounds interesting! Sad that I won’t see you though :(]

Jordan typed her next message quickly; if she didn’t send this now, her rational thought would take over and prevent her from doing so at all.

Megan’s reply was instant: [Deal! Sure, sounds good. Meet you at Starbucks at 3 :)]

There; it was done. Jordan was going to this coffee date, no matter what happened. Now she just needed to figure out how to not let things get out of hand there.

The Starbucks on campus was neatly tucked away between the faculty of engineering on the one side, and the faculty of arts and human sciences on the other. Megan entered and made her way through the mixed clientele of arty hipsters and studious engineers; students living up to their full stereotypical potential. They all believed they were utterly unique and original but amalgamated into a uniform, consistent mass. Only one person stood out to Megan. She spotted her immediately; already here, even though it was before their meeting time.

Jordan was sitting at one of the corner tables that was considered prime real estate, because of its proximity to a wall socket. She must have been here for a while to get a hold of that table. She had her MacBook open but her nose was buried in a large book. She was wearing thick-rimmed black glasses and a dark grey suit jacket; her overall appearance professional and educated.

It was a world of difference from her usual look in the boxing gym, but no less sexy. Megan took a moment to appreciate the view. She’d been pleasantly surprised to learn that Jordan was doing her PhD, but had so far not been able to picture the girl in her academic capacity; especially since the memory of her practically naked kept coming back to her. Seeing Jordan here – engrossed in literature and pulling off the sexy professor look with such ease – brought it all together. It was all Megan could do not to run up and kiss her there and then.

Instead, she approached slowly. She hesitated for a moment; should she go in for a hug? Was that weird? They didn’t normally hug when but, then, this was a different context. Jordan must have sensed her hovering; she looked up and smiled, before getting up and pulling her in for a quick hug across the table. Her hair tickled Megan’s face and she caught a waft of coconut. Megan’s stomach fluttered restlessly and she sat down quickly.

“No coffee for you?” Jordan asked.

Megan had completely forgotten all about that. She peered into Jordan’s cup, which was empty. “Ah yes, good point. I’ll go get some. Can I get you a refill?”

“Of course. I’ll never say no to coffee.”

That was good to know. Megan distractedly ordered their coffees, while picturing herself waking up next to Jordan on lazy Sunday mornings; letting her sleep in, while preparing a hot brew; enticing her to wake up slowly with gentle kisses and the smell of coffee.

“What are you reading?” Megan asked when she sat back down, forcing lazy Sunday mornings from her mind. In her absence, Jordan had gone straight back to her book.

“It’s about narrative research. I’m working on my methodology chapter. Basically, in my research I’m relying on people’s own stories to inform my findings, instead of using more restrictive interview methods.”

“The stories of prisoners?”

Jordan smiled. “Well remembered…”

How could Megan forget? Jordan’s comment about interviewing prisoners had conjured up images of waiting impatiently behind bars for the cute researcher to show up; visitation time was never so enticing.

Jordan continued: “I’m talking to female offenders who repeatedly offend, to understand the ‘why’ and the ‘how’ of their offences, their backgrounds, life factors and such. I’m drawing on their stories to also address the impact of the criminal justice system in shaping their offending and recovery trajectories.”

She paused and then laughed. “I’m sorry, that’s academic babble, isn’t it? It’s this thesis – it’s taking over my life! Give me a moment to emerge into the real world, please.”

Megan laughed too. “Take your time.” She was enjoying seeing this completely different side of Jordan; she could easily get used to this ‘academic babble’ of hers.

“So, you go into the prisons and ask them to tell you their stories?”

“Yes, I’m aiming to talk to twenty women. It’s qualitative research, of course. I’ve done twelve interviews so far. It’s amazing to hear their stories. They are all so different.”

“But if they just tell you what they want, how do you get to what you need to know for your study?” Megan had never heard about this way of doing research. She had only had to do interviews in which the researcher asked the questions and the respondent answered.

“Well, I still have certain themes I want to get to, so in that sense there’s still structure to the interview. But the key is to let them bring to the table those aspects that they feel are important to their own narrative. It’s a feminist mode of inquiry.” She caught herself: “Oh god, here I go again. Stop me, will you?!”

Megan wouldn’t if she could, but she was intrigued about the practicalities too. “But isn’t it dangerous?” With the risk of sounding naive, she added: “I mean, you hear all these stories about stabbings in prisons and stuff.”

“Well yeah, that does happen, of course. But I’ve had to go through quite stringent screenings and my respondents have been carefully selected in collaboration with the prison staff. They are not in maximum security or anything; all relatively minor crimes. And there’s also always security nearby. I’m perfectly safe, really.” She grinned and added: “So no need to worry about me.”

Megan blushed. Was it that obvious that she would? Realising that Jordan had just given her the perfect bridge to ask about the other thing she really wanted to know, she took a deep breath and plunged head-first into her next question.

“What about your partner? Don’t they worry about you?” She carefully used a gender-neutral sentence; she still wasn’t sure on which team Jordan played.

“Don’t have one of those.”

Jordan looked at her in a way that Megan couldn’t quite interpret; confusion, perhaps, or conflict? She cursed herself for being so vague; now she still didn’t know. At least if she had used a gender, Jordan would have corrected her; probably.

As Megan struggled to find a way to ask more, Jordan volunteered, still with that curious expression on her face: “I couldn’t have a girlfriend right now anyway. The PhD and my boxing take up so much of my life, I have no idea when I would find enough time for her.”

Megan’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of a girlfriend – she was gay! -, before plummeting into a dark crevice of disappointment when the full meaning of the rest of the statement became unmistakably clear. Megan was a firm believer that one could always make time for love. If the right person came along, life had a funny way of making space for them, even when a schedule seemed full and unforgiving at first. So this could only mean that Jordan didn’t want a girlfriend. Or – her brain kicked into pessimist mode – that Jordan didn’t want her specifically and was trying to let her down easy.

“Just tell her you love her!” Megan’s thoughts were interrupted by this cry from the next table. Jordan also looked up in surprise.

A tall boy in skinny jeans with Justin Bieber hair stood in front of a group of other students, his fist still at the end position of his air grab. Encouraged by their looks, he stepped closer to Jordan and Megan and directed his next sentence at Jordan: “Hasn’t this gone long enough? She deserves to know the truth!” He sighed dramatically.

Jordan looked at him in disbelief. Despite her gloomy mood, Megan struggled not to laugh. Jordan probably wouldn’t know this – having only been here for a couple of months – but the coffee shop had been nicknamed the ‘Glee Starbucks’, because of its frequent visitors from the music and acting departments. It wasn’t uncommon that students spontaneously burst into song and dance, or started a dramatic rendition of their performing arts assignments, in the middle of unsuspecting science students.

This kid had clearly started a little show for his friends, but having received attention from elsewhere, was getting a bit carried way. He was still looking at Jordan expectantly, keen to pull her into his performance, while his friends snickered behind him.

“What are you talking about?” Jordan asked him, a hint of panic in her voice. Megan smiled. She couldn’t possibly think he was serious?

“If you don’t tell her, I will!”

He turned to Megan and grabbed her hand. “It’s you Rosa. It’s always been you! Oh, but Margaret said she would die if you found out. Behold now, it’s her at the edge of the cliff. No Margaret, don’t jump!”

He reached out to an invisible person and mimed something slipping through his fingers and, supposedly, falling off the cliff. At that, he burst into tears; actual tears, rolling down his face. It couldn’t be said this boy didn’t have talent. His friends applauded him loudly. He took a deep bow before sitting down again.

“Erm… What the hell was that?” Jordan looked at Megan questioningly. After Megan had explained about the Glee Starbucks, she said: “That’s a relief. I thought he was a friend of yours or something.”

“A friend of mine who’s getting you to confess that you love me?” If only. The sad truth came back to Megan like a hammer blow: Jordan definitely did not love her; she didn’t even want to be with her.

“Something like that. But I bet your girlfriend wouldn’t be happy about that either.” Jordan smiled at her before looking away.

“My girlfriend?”

“That tall biker chick with the too-cool-for-school look I saw you with?”

Biker chick? It took Megan a moment to piece together who Jordan was talking about. “Rowan? She’s not my girlfriend!”

Jordan looked at her inquisitively. “She’s not?”

“Definitely not. She’s just my, sometimes infuriating, best friend.”

“Ah sorry, I just assumed…” Jordan didn’t look at her when she asked next: “But you do have a girlfriend?”

Wasn’t it obvious that she didn’t? And why did she want to know anyway? “No, I’m single,” she said simply.

“Cool…”

Megan studied Jordan’s face, trying to gauge her reaction. What was she hoping to see? Happiness?

Jordan’s face was blank as she continued: “Most of my friends are in couples, you know. It makes you feel like a bit of an outsider, doesn’t it?”

What did she mean? Did she want to be single friends together? To go do single things that she couldn’t do with her couple friends; whatever that may be? As much as it was tempting to keep spending time with her, Megan wasn’t sure she could do that. She liked Jordan too much to just be friends. She’d been in this situation before and knew it would end up in heartbreak sooner or later.

“Yeah, I guess…” Megan didn’t know what else to say to that. This coffee date was not what she had expected. Something, somewhere had gone horribly wrong.

“Anyway, I’ll come check out Velvet sometime.” Clearly Jordan was also a bit lost for words; where did that come from? She continued: “I’ll bring along my friend Sam. She’s single too. I think you’ll like her.” Jordan made eye contact very briefly before averting her eyes to the book in front of her.

Why did Jordan just bring up her single friend? ‘You’ll like her’? Was she trying to set Megan up with her friend? Then this wasn’t about being single friends together? Megan was confused. What did Jordan want from her? Whatever it was, it wasn’t what Megan wanted. Whatever Jordan came here for today, it wasn’t a first date; it certainly wasn’t the start of something more.

Although it pained her, Megan knew what this meant: it was time to cut her losses; get out while she still could. She told herself to be strong. Getting over Jordan would take time and it wouldn’t be easy. She would need to take her distance; only then could she do this. She decided: from now on, no more flirting, no more hoping; only casual friendliness at the gym, when they would inevitably still see each other.

“Speaking of Velvet, I better get going. I have to work tonight,” Megan said. She felt a strong urge to run out of here as fast as she could.

“Yeah, I better get back to my chapter too.” Was there a hint of disappointment in Jordan’s eyes? Megan reproached herself; no more hoping.

“I’ll see you at the gym.” Megan got up and stepped away from the table quickly. She didn’t have it in her to stay for another hug. If Jordan was disappointed about this, she hid it well.

“Yeah, see you there,” Jordan said with a slight smile.

Megan walked off quickly, feeling tears welling up. Why had she let herself get so carried away, thinking Jordan liked her back? She’d given her signs, hadn’t she? And for Megan to have noticed them; that was quite something. She been told many times how blind she was to other people’s advances.

If the signs had been there but she didn’t want a girlfriend, was Jordan just a player? Was she only in it for the chase, like Rowan? If that was the case, Megan deserved better anyway. She squared her shoulders; recovery started now.

“You’re joking, right?” Jordan asked perplexed, taking her phone off hands-free and putting it up to her ear. The laundry she was folding could wait.

“I promise you that I’m not. It’s hard to believe, I know. I could hardly believe it myself!” Sam said, sounding happier than Jordan had ever seen her.

“You just met her in the supermarket, played some pool, and then she came home with you?! I’m really supposed to buy that?” Jordan tried again.

Sam had just relayed the most incredible tale of bumping into her favourite actress, in the supermarket, of all places; hitting it off with her; and having the night of her life, introducing said actress to lesbianism.

“Buy it or not; it’s the truth! I’m still buzzing… We just connected, you know. It was like we’d known each other for years.”

“But you haven’t! I have known you for years, Sam, and it’s just… An actress? A red-carpet-walking, Oscar-swinging actress?”

“She’s not like that. She’s more real, somehow. She was just happy that someone finally took her for who she was, instead of what they thought she’d be like. Fame does that to you, I guess.”

“Because for you it had nothing to do with the fact that she is famous?” Jordan liked Sam a lot, but it seemed she had lost the plot.

“It didn’t. I didn’t even recognise her at first. I just thought she was stunning and I wanted to talk to her. Turns out I love talking to her, and she to me.”

“Come on, Sam. Really?”

“Why is this so hard to believe, Jordan? She recently moved to the burbs; turns out she lives close to me in some inconspicuous house. I’m not sure where exactly, but I know now which the nearest supermarket is.” Sam chuckled. It seemed that nothing could dampen her spirits; not even a sceptical friend. “Why would I make this up, anyway?”

Jordan sighed. She had a point there. As much as this story sounded like a crazy fantasy, she’d never known Sam to be anything but truthful. “You wouldn’t…,” she admitted.

“Exactly!” Sam said triumphantly.

“So, now what? You’re not going to see her again, are you?” Having no choice but to believe that the encounter happened, Jordan was keen to find out how her friend possibly envisioned she would proceed from here.

“God, I hope I will! I have no idea how, but I want to.”

Jordan was afraid she’d say that. “Sam,” she started gently, “don’t you think it may have been just a onetime thing for her? I mean, she lives in a completely different world, doesn’t she?”

“Yeah, she does. But she seemed perfectly happy in mine too. Maybe there’s a way… It could be like a little weekend escape for her or something.”

“You want to be her weekend lover?”

“I’ll be whatever she wants me to be,” Sam said with a happy sigh. “Truth is, Jordan, I think I’m in love with her…”

“Sure sounds like it…”

Jordan was worried for her friend; Sam would be heartbroken if this didn’t come to anything. And it almost certainly wouldn’t. Another thought hit Jordan. Her heart was pounding as she asked: “What about Megan?”

“I know… I did really like her. But now… I can’t think of anyone else, not even Megan. She just pales in comparison, you know?”

Jordan felt a wave of anger rushing in. This was so unfair to Megan. Even though the cute bartender had no idea Sam even liked her and there was nothing going on between them, it still felt like a betrayal, somehow, to toss her aside so easily. Megan deserved more than that. Besides, Megan couldn’t pale in comparison to anyone if she tried.

“At least she’s a real person, living a normal life amongst us ordinary people,” Jordan said, unable to keep the frustration from her voice.

“Look, I’m sorry. I really appreciate the effort you put in. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I’m sure Megan is great and she’ll make someone very happy. That someone is just not going to be me, I realise now. It wouldn’t be fair for her to be a consolation prize.”

“She’s definitely not a consolation prize,” Jordan said before she could stop herself.

Sam was catching up. “Wait a minute. Why are you getting so worked up about this?”

“I just think it’s not smart to dismiss all other options so easily, that’s all. This whole actress thing could go absolutely nowhere…” Jordan tried to make it sound like she was purely moved by concern for her friend. “And Megan is great,” she added. “I think you two would really hit it off.”

Sam saw straight through her, as usual. “You like her,” she stated. It wasn’t a question.

There was no point denying it. “I do.”

It was the first time she’d actually admitted it. Doing so somehow made it all the more real. When Sam didn’t respond immediately, Jordan sighed and continued: “I’ve liked her for a while. I was blocking it out because you liked her. I felt like a terrible friend for even thinking it.”

There was a further moment of silence on the other end before Sam started laughing. “That’s just perfect, Jordan!” She said happily.

“What? Why is that perfect?”

“Now you can go for it! She’s all yours!”

Jordan took a deep breath, the full truth of her messed-up situation dawning on her. “Well, it’s a bit late for that,” she said more irately than she intended.

“What do you mean? Why would it be too late?”

She might as well tell Sam the full truth now. “Because I shot her down… I realised she liked me too, and I shot her down. It must have taken quite some courage for her to ask me out in the first place…”

“Wait a minute. She likes you? She asked you out?”

“Remember I told you that I found out she was single? She told me when we met up for coffee. She asked me to go. I only went to find out if she was single. Or so I told myself.” Jordan talked factually, not wanting to let the emotion shine through her words.

“Oh Jordan… What happened?” Sam sounded sympathetic to her ordeal.

Jordan didn’t want to blame her friend for this fiasco. It wasn’t Sam’s fault, but she couldn’t help but be annoyed with her. The timing was simply terrible. If only this had happened one week earlier, Jordan would have approached the coffee date very differently.

“I told her I didn’t want a girlfriend; that I didn’t have the time for it. I may have suggested we should be friends. And I definitely told her that she should meet you; that she’d like you.”

“Ouch…”

“Ouch is correct… That’s why I said it’s too late. I fucked up, Sam. After all that, there’s no way she’ll try again with me.”

“But you can…,” Sam started. When Jordan started to protest, she said: “No wait, hear me out. Let her know you like her. Come clean about everything. She’ll understand that you were just being an amazing friend. Which I will never forget, by the way.”

“I don’t know, Sam… She seems really upset.”

Jordan had seen Megan a few times at the gym since their fateful coffee date and to say she’d been icy was an understatement. They had still partnered as usual, but Megan hadn’t made more conversation than was strictly necessary. Jordan even had the impression that her kicks and hits had been harder than before.

“Do you like her, or not?”

“I do… I like her a lot.” The floodgates were open. Now that she’d admitted that she liked Megan, she realised just how much she was into the pink-haired girl; how much it had taken to resist those feelings.

“Then she’s worth fighting for, isn’t she? And if anyone’s a fighter, it’s you!”

“Yeah, you’re right…” In theory, Sam was absolutely right but Jordan had no idea how to pull this off in practice.

“I know I am. So quit sulking and get your head in the game!”

Jordan had to smile at Sam’s attempt at pep talk. “Alright coach… I’ll think about it.”

After she’d hung up the phone, Jordan sat down heavily on her bed. She realised that for the entire duration of the phone call, she’d been restlessly pacing the tiny floor surface of her room like a caged tiger. Was there still time to fix things with Megan? Perhaps if she could just talk to her and come clean, as Sam had suggested? Would Megan let her? Jordan would certainly have to amp up the niceties first; show her that she meant business now.

She had to try. What else could she do? She couldn’t let this amazing girl just disappear from her life or, worse, stay on the receiving end of her passive aggression.

With trembling fingers she started typing a message: [Hey, it’s me]. She hesitated. Would Megan have deleted her number? Would she know who ‘me’ was?

She started again: [Hey, it’s Jordan. I’m thinking about going for a drink tonight. Would you like to join me? xx]

The two status ticks turned blue almost immediately; Megan had seen the message. Jordan waited impatiently for her reply.

When her reply eventually came, a few hours later, it was brief and disappointing: [Hey. I can’t, I have to work. I’ll see you at the gym.]

Megan’s boxing gloves connected hard with the pads Jordan was holding: left jab, right cross, left hook. She finished the combination with a right low kick, which Jordan blocked with her shin pad.

“Good. Again!” Jordan said as she reset the position of the pads. Megan repeated the sequence vigorously.

“Now, remember to put your whole body behind your punches. Here, let me show you.”

Jordan hooked her hands out of the pads and dropped them. She stepped closer and put her hands on Megan’s hips.

A surge of electricity went through Megan’s body and she fought the urge to recoil. It wasn’t so much the fact that Jordan’s hands were on her that caused her reluctance; it was her own reaction to the touch. Although her mind was fighting her attraction to the gorgeous boxer, her body had not gotten that memo.

“Execute those punches again, slowly, and pay attention to the movement of your hips.”

As Megan went through the combination, Jordan’s hands guided her hips to move along with the punches, twisting left and right as her arms extended. Megan avoided eye contact but she was aware of Jordan’s intense gaze on her movement, on the swaying of her hips. Standing so close to her, touching her, Jordan was driving up Megan’s body temperature. She cursed her body for betraying her and twisted away from Jordan’s grip as soon as she’d finished the sequence.

“Can you feel how much more power you have when you put your hips into it?” Jordan continued, unperturbed by her reaction.

The girl seemed intent on being as friendly and supportive as possibly, even though Megan was finding it hard to reciprocate. The times they’d seen each other at the gym immediately following their coffee date had been awkward. Both of them had been edging around the other, pretending everything was normal but both realising something had shifted. Megan had not wanted to make a big deal of things by refusing to partner with her, but their attention had been much more on the moves than on each other.

However, Megan had noticed a shift in Jordan’s behaviour. Perhaps it had started today, or even last week; she couldn’t be sure. It seemed that Jordan had decided to increase her efforts to get Megan to engage with her. She’d been talkative, encouraging, smiley. She’d even winked at Megan once or twice again. And now she was finding excuses to touch her, it seemed. What was going on? Megan was far from an expert on courting behaviour, but if she didn’t know any better, that’s what she’d call it.

But it couldn’t be that, obviously; Jordan had made it abundantly clear she wasn’t interested in Megan in that way. So it must just be another way of re-establishing their friendship. Megan wasn’t ready for that. She didn’t rule out that in time they could be friends, but now Jordan’s efforts were just distracting her from her resolve to take her distance. How could she stay away from her, mentally, if she was so close, physically?

“Let’s go again,” she grunted, nudging Jordan to put the pads back on.

“See, that’s better. I can feel how much more powerful those punches are now.” Jordan smiled encouragingly.

“With your low kick…,” she then continued, “remember that you’re trying to hit me here.” She ran her hand along her outer thigh, pausing at a point midway up. “Or even here, further back. You’d hit the sciatic nerve, which is a very powerful target.” She moved her hand to a spot at the back of her thigh, just below her buttock. “You can actually feel where you’d need to hit it, just here.” She looked at Megan invitingly.

Did she really expect Megan to touch her? “That’s alright. I’ll give it a try,” Megan said instead, not trusting her hands to behave when laid on Jordan’s body.

“Okay, try it. I’m not going to block it, so gently please!”

Megan kicked, a little harder than she intended. From the look on Jordan’s face, she hit that nerve well enough.

“Ooof… I guess I deserved that,” Jordan mumbled with a pained expression, rubbing the back of her thigh.

She then turned cheerily to Megan and gave her an appraising look: “Very good! Very impressive, actually. Let’s put that in the combination. I’m going to check your kick though. I need to be able to walk tomorrow.”

They practised the combination a few more times, Jordan encouraging Megan at every turn, until the trainer indicated that it was time for the final part of the lesson. Usually this meant the advanced fighters would spar, while the beginners had more time to practice their combinations, ask questions, receive one-on-one time, or work on the bags. Since they’d been training together, Jordan had usually stuck around Megan, working with her. She got more than enough sparring times on other days, she said.

Still looking for ways to create some space and give herself a chance to recollect, Megan said: “I think I’ll just do some bag work today. Go ahead and spar with the others if you want.”

Jordan looked slightly disappointed but respected her wish. She put on her gloves and jogged to the other side of the hall.

Megan turned to a punch bag and started going through some simple combinations. Her focus on her movements lapsed as her mind replayed the interactions she had with Jordan this morning. Jordan’s hands on her body, swaying her gently, had made more of an impact than she cared to admit. It was as if she could still feel them on her now. Her own body was on autopilot, hitting and kicking the unfortunate punch bag more and more erratically, until she was forced to stop because she couldn’t breathe. She panted and wiped the sweat off her face with the back of her forearm.

Her attention was drawn to the other side of the room. The trainer was giving instructions to Jordan. She was sparring with a tall, broad-shouldered guy, who looked like he could lift her with one finger. She was using her size to her advantage, ducking under his long arms and getting close to his body to deliver punches to his abdomen.

“Remember that those boxing bobs and weaves are not as effective in kickboxing! If Justin would actually use his legs now, you’d get hit in the face,” the trainer said firmly.

Jordan moved back and hurled a well-executed high kick towards the other fighter’s face. He staggered back and narrowly blocked it with his gloves, clearly surprised the short girl could reach that high.

Megan had of course witnessed Jordan’s flexibility before, but she couldn’t help but be impressed by the move. She’d take that guy out in no time if this were a real fight.

Jordan laughed her booming laugh and said: “It’s a good thing he didn’t use his legs then!”

“Nice kick,” the trained complimented her. “Just be aware of your defence. There’s a lot more limbs to take into account, especially in Thai boxing. A knee to the face hurts!”

“Noted. Thanks coach.”

Jordan’s gaze flitted across the room and met Megan’s. She grinned, exposing her bright green gum guard. While not a sexy thing by far, there was something about that action that made Megan’s belly flutter. It was the boyish boisterousness; the look to see if Megan had seen her move; the need for her appreciation. It was classic playground behaviour: showing off for the girl’s attention.

She got the girl’s attention, that was certain, but in this case the girl wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Megan looked away and turned back to the punching bag, trying to block out Jordan’s grin, which kept lingering in her mind.

At the end of the lesson, Megan was pleased to see that Jordan was engaged in a conversation with the trainer. Megan had to go straight to the university to finish an essay, so she had to shower and change at the gym again. The last thing she wanted to do was be alone in the changing room with Jordan, so she’d been racking her brain to find a way to avoid that. Now that Jordan was still chatting, she could perhaps get in and out quickly. Or at least time it so that she was in the shower while Jordan was in the changing room and vice versa.

The changing room was empty, as it had been the last time Megan was here. Just to be sure, she gave the first shower cubicle a quick knock to make sure no one was in there. The doors to the cubicles didn’t lock so some aspiring comedian had put up a sign saying: ‘Do knock it before you try it.’ Rushing, Megan slipped inside.

While she was undressing, she heard the door to the changing room open and close. That was probably Jordan. Megan felt a rush going through her body; a rush of what, she wasn’t sure. Panic? Excitement? She quickly switched on the shower to block out the distracting sounds of Jordan undressing. Soon after, she heard the shower in the cubicle next to hers being switched on.

Realising her timing was going to be off, Megan took her time showering. There was no way she was going to beat Jordan to it, so she might as well stay hidden in the shower cubicle. Not a very confident statement, but Megan felt anything but confident at the moment.

The shower in the next cubicle was switched off. Megan strained to hear any further sounds over the running water of her own shower. What was Jordan doing now? It didn’t really matter, as long as Megan knew when she had left, so she could come out. She closed her eyes and let the water run down her face.

She was so lost in this calming sensation that a sudden noise right behind her startled her. Was that the door? Before she could turn around, she felt someone’s hands on her hips, gently taking hold of her. They weren’t restraining her in any way; they were merely making the presence of their owner known. Fighting her panic, Megan realised that it was oddly familiar; she’d felt this before, not half an hour earlier. In fact, the phantom feeling of those hands had never quite left her. Jordan. What was she doing here? Couldn’t she see Megan was naked?!

Panicking, Megan moved her head from underneath the water and took a small step backwards in the process. She felt Jordan applying gentle pressure on her hips, drawing her closer. Her body slowly came in contact with Jordan’s – first her buttocks, then her back, then her thighs – until she could feel Jordan pressed into her all along the length of her body. Standing out of reach of the water, her skin felt cool on Megan’s. Megan’s breath stopped. Was Jordan naked too? She couldn’t feel any clothing but, then, it had become hard to concentrate.

Megan opened her mouth to say something – to demand an explanation, perhaps – but no words came out. She wanted to turn around – if nothing else to confirm her suspicions about Jordan’s nakedness – but her body was frozen.

Jordan’s hands moved along her sides, up to her shoulders, and then suddenly left her body. Megan felt herself missing them instantly. She should stop this; whatever this was, it had nothing to do with creating distance. And yet, when Jordan moved her body away from her, Megan couldn’t stop hers from pressing backwards, following her; craving the contact.

As sudden as they had left, Jordan’s hands were back, touching her shoulders. It was the smell that told Megan that she’d withdrawn them to put shower gel on them, which she was now gently spreading over Megan’s shoulders and back. Megan’s heart was racing. She shouldn’t be allowing this; she should certainly not be enjoying this. Jordan’s hands slid down over her lower back to her buttocks, leaving not one spot untouched.

There was something pragmatic about her movements, as if washing Megan’s body was her only concern, and any tension or thrill caused by this was irrelevant.

Her hands moved over Megan’s hips and up along her waist. As they travelled to the front of Megan’s body, Jordan pressed her body into Megan’s. Megan felt her breasts against her back. Her body responded automatically, pushing back into Jordan, her buttocks fitting neatly in the curve between Jordan’s thighs and her belly.

Megan looked down to see Jordan’s hands sliding up slowly, her dark skin contrasting starkly with Megan’s pale stomach and the white foam created by the shower gel. Her mouth was dry and she found herself still unable to speak. Where were those hands going? As Jordan cupped her breasts, Megan’s breath escaped her in a deep sigh. She hadn’t realised she’d been holding it.

Jordan gently spread the soapy substance over her breasts, not paying them any more attention than she had any other part of her body. As her palms slid over Megan’s nipples, a shiver went through her body. It felt so sudden and violent, compared to Jordan’s slow and deliberate movements, that Megan was sure the other girl must have felt it too.

As soon as Jordan’s hands moved away from her breasts, Megan regretted their absence. She didn’t get long to contemplate this, as Jordan now moved down her belly and grazed the front of her hips. Her hands glided down Megan’s thighs; her thumbs facing inward, meeting between her slightly separated legs.

Megan was sure Jordan would be able to feel the heat radiating from just above her hands. If it weren’t for the water still running down the front of her legs, Jordan may even have encountered another sign of her excitement, involuntarily making its way downs her thighs.

It was there – just out of reach of where Megan by now couldn’t help but hope she’d go – that Jordan left her hands, as she pulled Megan in close for a hug, pressing her cheek into Megan’s shoulder.

“In case you were still wondering if I wanted us to be more than friends…,” she whispered in Megan’s ear.

At that, she slipped out of the cubicle as quickly and as quietly as she’d slipped in. Her departure left a cold abyss behind Megan’s body that threatened to pull her in and drown her forever. She shivered and stepped back under the hot water, letting it rinse the soap off her.

What the hell was that? A million questions rushed through Megan’s head, all fighting to be considered first. Her own conflicting feelings about what had just happened were hard to ignore. Her body had obviously completely betrayed her again, giving into, and reacting to, the delicious physical sensation of Jordan’s touch. But the flesh was weak, as they said.

Her mind, however, was also not innocent. Why didn’t she stop Jordan? The sheer thought of the chiselled body pressed into hers, of the beautiful face with that cute grin just behind her, had been enough to stop all thoughts of staying away from Jordan, of keeping her distance.

But why had Jordan done this to her? She didn’t want to be with Megan. She’d said this explicitly a couple of weeks ago; she had no time for a girlfriend. Had she changed her mind? If so, what made her change it? Her circumstances certainly hadn’t changed.

A nagging memory fought its way to the surface. A few weeks ago, she’d asked Rowan how to get out of the friend zone with Jordan. ‘Should I just bang her there and then in the showers, like you would?’ She’d jokingly asked her best friend.

Was that what Jordan was doing? Breaking through the friend zone barriers? And if so, to what end? What did she mean when she said she wanted to be more than friends? Did she just want to have sex? This sure felt like a very Rowan-esk thing to do, now that Megan thought about it. She could certainly picture her friend slipping into the shower with someone, fucking them, and then disappearing on them.

The thought of Jordan doing that to her made her feel sick. Granted, Jordan hadn’t fucked her, but she may as well have, considering how personal and intimate this had felt. If sex was all she wanted, she’d have to go get it from someone else. No matter how hot Jordan was, Megan couldn’t do that. It would tear her apart.

Fighting her nausea, Megan let the water run down her face again, as if cleansing herself from the experience she’d just had. She waited for what felt like an eternity until she heard the door of the changing room open and close. Jordan had left at last.

Megan couldn’t face her now. She didn’t trust herself. She honestly had no idea what she would do; what she should do. Right now, her head was filled with thoughts of Jordan playing her; just wanting her for a quick fling. Yet, she couldn’t shake the hope that it was more than that. What if she really had changed her mind about wanting a girlfriend?

Competing thoughts and emotions kept rushing through her head like a whirlwind. And to think that she now had to head to the library to write an essay; how was she ever going to pull that off?

Jordan gave her mum and dad both a hug and a kiss and flopped down on the sofa with a satisfied sigh. She often visited her parents after her training on Sundays, so they had been expecting her.

“You look happy today. Anything you want to tell us?” Her mum asked curiously.

Jordan wasn’t surprised her mum had picked up on her mood. She had been smiling all the way from the gym to her parents’ house, drawing strange looks from the people on the train. Her dad gave a curious glance, bordering on suspicion.

“Not really. Just feeling on top of the world, that’s all.”

How could she possibly tell her parents about what had just happened in the shower at the gym? How she’d decided on a whim to take a bold step to show Megan that she was into her too. She had tried in vain to flirt with the girl and slowly win her over, but she’d started thinking about changing tack when she realised that Megan’s wasn’t budging. When she saw Megan’s bag in the changing room and heard her in the shower, the idea had just materialised in her head. Flirting Megan didn’t seem to notice, but this she was sure to notice.

Jordan grinned as she remembered how beautiful Megan had looked; how good it had felt to run her hands over her body; how readily Megan had responded to her touch.

“Alright. Well, I’m glad you are, sweetie.” Her mum said, pouring her a cup of coffee.

“Jordan!” Her little sister Tasha came running into the room and cannonballed into her, before giving her a big bear hug.

“Hey monkey! Don’t you know it’s rude to jump all over people? The penalty for that is death by tickling!”

Jordan started tickling her, causing her to shriek excitedly, before running off giggling. “Catch me if you can,” she shouted over her shoulder.

Jordan got up and chased her. Tasha had run into her bedroom and was hiding behind the door. Jordan made a little show of looking for her, before picking her up and throwing her on the bed.

“Death by tickling!” She shouted, as she vigorously started executing the sentence. Tasha giggled uncontrollably and wrestled to try to get away from Jordan.

Because of all this commotion, Jordan didn’t realise at first that her phone was vibrating in her pocket. She trapped Tasha’s trashing legs under her body and pinned her hands down with her knees.

“I’m not done with you,” she said with a grin, before getting her phone out of her pocket. The display told her it was Megan calling. A surge of happiness rushed through her.

“Megan, hi!” She said enthusiastically.

“Jordan…” Megan didn’t sound nearly as happy as Jordan had hoped she would be. There was a long pause before she continued, still in that same strained voice: “What the hell was that all about, Jordan?”

Oh, this was not good. Jordan got off Tasha and sunk down next to her on the bed. “What do you mean?”

Tasha, who hadn’t picked up on her sister’s sudden mood change, saw her chance for revenge. She launched herself at Jordan and buried her little fingers deep into Jordan’s sides, where she knew her sister was most ticklish. Jordan was completely surprised by her move and couldn’t suppress a giggle.

“Tasha, stop,” she snorted, trying to catch the child’s hands.

Encouraged, Tasha laughed and doubled her efforts. With another giggle, Jordan managed to catch both Tasha’s hands in her free hand, and she gently slid out from underneath her sister.

“Not now, sweetie. Give me a minute, okay?” She said gently, as she got off the bed and walked out of the room, lingering in the upstairs landing.

“I can call back later if it’s a bad time.” Megan’s voice sounded ice-cold.

“It’s not a bad time,” Jordan started, before Megan added: “If you’re too busy with Tasha, I mean.”

This was getting worse by the second. Megan clearly got the wrong idea. The misunderstanding would have been funny if the mood wasn’t so dead serious.

“Tasha is my little sister. She’s six,” Jordan said quickly. “She’d received the death penalty by tickling, but she was trying to escape,” she added, unsure of why this was relevant.

Megan’s voice sounded warmer when she said: “Oh… I didn’t know you had a sister.” Of course she didn’t. Why would she know that? They’d never discussed family.

“Anyway, I think you owe me an explanation for what just happened,” Megan continued, audibly bracing herself. There was something in her voice that made Jordan think she’d rehearsed what she would say.

“An explanation? Wasn’t it quite self-explanatory?” Jordan started to panic. Had she misread the signs? Megan had certainly seemed to like what she’d done to her.

“Not really, no. I don’t appreciate being played, Jordan.”

“Being played? What do you mean?” Confusion filled Jordan’s head. Had she played Megan?

“This hot and cold business of yours!” Megan sounded on the verge of tears and Jordan realised how much courage it must have taken for her to call up Jordan and confront her.

She wanted nothing more than to comfort Megan, to put her mind at ease, but Megan continued: “First you give me your number and you’re all flirty with me. Then you tell me you don’t want a girlfriend. Then you get all touchy and flirty again. And then you pull this shower stunt, saying you want to be more than friends?!”

Hearing it spelt out like that, Jordan suddenly saw how this looked from Megan’s perspective. How had she not seen it? She knew she’d given Megan the wrong idea about wanting more, but she’d been so focused on showing her the opposite, that she hadn’t stopped to think that now she must look like Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde to Megan.

“Oh my god, Megan. I’m so sorry. I never intended it to be like that.” How could she even begin to make her see that?

“Then what did you intend?” Megan justly asked. “What do you want, exactly?”

Jordan’s brain was racing. This was going to be such a long story and she really did not want to do this over the phone in her parents’ house. She wanted to see Megan’s face, be able to gauge her reaction.

“I can explain everything,” she said feebly. Great start, genius. Wasn’t that what every fuck-up always said? “Let me come see you, please? Where are you?”

Megan sighed and took a while to respond. “I’m in the library on campus. I’m supposed to be finishing this essay.”

Jordan cursed. It would take her a while to get there on the train and her parents wouldn’t understand why she’d leave again so quickly. But she had no choice; Megan was right, she owed her an explanation. Moreover, she desperately wanted to make it up to Megan; to be on good terms with her, if nothing else.

“I can be there in an hour.”

“Alright,” was Megan’s simple reply. She didn’t sound overly thrilled at the prospect.

Jordan finally walked into the library just over an hour later – after apologising profusely to her parents and sister for her early departure and promising to come back tomorrow, and after an excruciatingly slow train ride. She wasn’t sure where in the large building Megan was, but she would look behind every shelf if that was what it would take to find her.

Fortunately, she didn’t have to, finding Megan quickly in the computer area. Jordan hesitated, not daring to go in for a hug like the last time they met outside the gym. Instead, she sat down on the empty chair next to Megan. Megan still hadn’t looked at her, deliberately fixated on the screen in front of her.

“Hey…,” Jordan started, in what she hoped was already an apologetic voice.

Megan finally turned towards her. The hurt and confusion in her eyes cut straight to Jordan’s soul. She cursed herself for having messed this up so badly.

“I don’t even know where to begin…,” she said quietly, acutely aware of the complete silence – save from gentle keystrokes – around them.

“Why don’t you start at the beginning?” Megan responded in a normal volume, drawing glances from the people around her.

“The beginning… Okay…” Jordan tried to figure out what the beginning was.

“And you better make this quick because I still need to finish this essay before I go to work.” Megan’s voice cutting through the silence again caused several hissing noises, urging them to shut up.

“Can we go somewhere we can talk?” Jordan whispered. She’d rather not have a bunch of undergrads listening in on their conversation.

“I think that’s a good idea. People are trying to work here,” a girl sitting opposite them said in a snarky tone.

Jordan glared at her and turned back to Megan. “Please?”

Megan sighed and looked desperately at the screen in front of her. She’d only typed one paragraph underneath her title: ‘The gender revolution – stalled or steaming ahead?’

“I’ll help you finish it after, okay?” Jordan said, hoping she’d correctly interpreted that look.

Megan sighed again. “You better.” She saved her file, huffing: “For what it’s worth…,” pulled her USB stick out of the computer, and logged off.

Not long after, they sat down on a low wall outside the library. It was a bit chilly in the autumn breeze but Jordan didn’t want to argue with Megan’s choice of location. That was the least of her worries.

“Okay, start talking,” Megan cut straight to the chase.

Jordan decided to start somewhere and see where that would lead her. “Remember that I said I’d been to the cocktail bar where you work before?”

“Yeah…” Did Megan already look impatient?

Jordan pressed on: “I went there just after I’d moved here, on a Friday night.”

Megan looked at her suspiciously and Jordan could guess her thoughts: she worked there on Fridays, why hadn’t she seen her?

“I was with my best friend Sam. We sat somewhere in the back; you probably wouldn’t have seen us.” She saw the recognition in Megan’s eyes at the mention of Sam’s name, but the girl didn’t say anything.

“That’s when Sam told me that she liked you. She’d been trying to flirt with you for a while, get your attention…”

“Sam…? What does she have to do with anything? Who is she? And she’s been flirting with me?!” Megan looked puzzled now. Clearly Jordan and Sam had been right in assuming that she hadn’t even noticed Sam’s efforts.

“Yeah, she’s there pretty much every Friday, I think, with some guys from her work. Tom boy, dreadlocks?” There couldn’t be that many of those. Jordan didn’t want to linger too long on Sam, but she was pivotal to the story.

“Ooooh… I know who you mean!” Megan paused, clearly lost in thought for a moment and then murmured: “I had no idea… God, I really am rubbish at this.”

Jordan had to smile; Megan really was rubbish at this. “Anyway…,” she continued, “Sam didn’t know anything about you. If you were single, or even if you were gay.”

Megan snorted as if to say: ‘Isn’t it obvious?’

“When I saw you, I recognised you from the gym. So I told Sam I’d try and find out a bit more about you, to see if she had a chance.” Jordan held her breath; this was a tricky admission. How would Megan react?

“So you were spying on me for your friend?” Megan wasn’t impressed.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that… But it was a lot harder than I thought. You’re not exactly an open book…”

Megan just shrugged as if to say: ‘Why would I be?’ She was right, of course.

“So I tried to get to know you. And…” Jordan paused; here came the other difficult truth: “the more I got to know you, the more I liked you, myself; really liked you…”

The look Megan gave her was a mix of wariness and surprise. If she was pleased by Jordan’s admission, she was hiding it well, possibly to show Jordan that she wouldn’t get off that easily. Or perhaps that was just wishful thinking.

“Then when you asked for my number and to go for a coffee, I realised – or I thought – that you liked me too.”

Knowing it would embarrass her, Jordan decided not to mention her first hint: Megan blatantly checking out her body in the changing room.

When Megan didn’t deny it, Jordan continued: “I don’t know why I accepted… I didn’t want to lead you on, but I told myself that it would be okay. That I’d leave it there and somehow divert your attention to Sam. I felt like such a terrible friend for even meeting up with you.”

“Yeah… That didn’t go so well, did it? I had no idea why you’d even brought Sam up. And I really thought you liked me too; that we were having a first date of some sorts…”

“I did like you! I do like you!”

“But you couldn’t, because your friend liked me too…”

“Exactly… And I’m so sorry for giving you the wrong idea.” Jordan smiled. Megan at least seemed to understand her predicament.

“And then what happened?”

Right. They weren’t there yet. Jordan would almost forget that was only half of the story; the better part had yet to come.

“Then Sam met someone else…,” she said. She decided not to go into details on whom she met; it was such an incredible tale that it would only detract from the issue at hand. “She completely fell for the woman; doesn’t have eyes for anyone else anymore.”

“Oh, nice for her,” Megan said curtly, clearly feeling a bit dismissed. “So, then the road was clear for you; was that it?”

Jordan sighed. When she put it that way, it sounded a lot less romantic. “I knew I’d messed up badly; that I’d told you I wasn’t interested in having a girlfriend. I thought it was too late, but I knew I had to try.”

“So you tried… Flirting with me, getting all touchy-feely?”

“So you did notice that time?” Jordan winked but Megan only rolled her eyes at her.

“Yeah, I tried… But I wasn’t sure if you even realised. It didn’t seem to be working, in any case.”

“Did you ever consider if perhaps I just wasn’t interested anymore?”

Jordan hadn’t considered that at all. Surely that wasn’t the case? She started to panic again. So far, she’d thought this was going reasonably well.

“I didn’t,” she admitted.

Megan didn’t say anything, clearly not willing to put her out of her misery yet.

“Look, I know it was a crazy idea to join you in the shower. I didn’t plan it or anything. I just did it. I don’t know why… I hoped it would show you how I really felt about you.” She paused.

Megan remained silent and gave her a questioning look; a look that said: ‘Go on’.

“That I really like you. That I want us to be more than friends. That I find you crazy attractive, and so much fun to be around. That I want to spend a lot more time with you…” There it was, all her cards on the table. Jordan looked nervously at Megan.

“So, you don’t just want sex?” Megan looked relieved.

Was that what she had thought? If so, Jordan really had taken a completely wrong approach with her shower stunt.

“I mean, eventually I would very much like that too…” She grinned playfully. Megan gave her a tiny smile back; she actually smiled, finally warming up a bit.

Jordan felt the relief coursing through her body. Encouraged, she continued: “But I want so much more than that. I think you’re amazing, Megan. Please say you’ll give me another chance?”

“How do I know you actually mean all this?” Megan gave her a piercing, serious look, but her whole demeanour said she didn’t really need convincing.

Jordan tried anyway: “Megan, I really am sorry about how this has all gone, and I understand that you’re still worried. But let me make it up to you. Let me take you on a date. A real first date.”

Megan smiled a bit, despite herself; it warmed Jordan’s heart. “Alright then,” she said after a moment’s deliberation.

Jordan was so happy she wanted to hug Megan, but something told her the other girl wasn’t quite there yet.

Megan glanced at her watch and put her hand in her pocket. “Well, you better finish this for me too, because you’ve taken up all of my time, and I need to go to work now.”

She pressed something into Jordan’s hand and walked off. Jordan opened her hand; it was the little USB stick. Jordan laughed and headed back into the library; she had an essay to write.

Megan looked around, unsure of herself. She felt out of place, while everyone else looked like ducks in water. She bumbled towards an information sign and started reading. The information wasn’t really going in, but at least it made her look like she knew what she was doing.

Jordan had suggested they meet in town at the end of the afternoon. It was Saturday and Megan had to beg and plead to get the night off. Given the meeting time, she’d expected they would go to a movie or see a show. She was utterly surprised when Jordan had whisked her off to the modern art museum instead.

They had spent the past ten minutes in a hall with strange compositions of everyday objects. They had barely spoken, each looking at the different art pieces at their own pace; quietly taking them in. Megan didn’t really know what there was to take in. She didn’t actually like modern art; she just didn’t get it.

She looked across the hall to where Jordan was standing, near a rope hanging from the ceiling. Was that art too, or were they still building that installation?

Jordan looked completely at ease and like she belonged in a place like this. Megan was starting to wonder if this was what it would be like if they were together: going to museums, pretending to understand. Maybe they had less in common than she’d thought.

At least Jordan was nice to look at, she thought with a satisfied grin. Her date was looking dapper in a tan pair of chinos and a black t-shirt, paired with high-top sneakers. To complete the look, she had brown suspenders and her black-rimmed glasses.

Megan herself had dressed rather more conservatively in a pair of jeans that she knew showed off her butt and a light-pink button-down shirt. Jordan had of course told her she looked amazing, but that was expected dating etiquette.

Jordan must have sensed Megan staring at her, because she looked over and made her way to where Megan was standing.

“So, what do you think?” Jordan gestured at the piece in front of them: a blank canvas with a diagonal tear through the centre. In front of it, also behind glass, lay a pair of neatly folded scissors.

“Erm…” Megan wished she’d actually taken in the information on the sign; perhaps then she’d have something meaningful to say. “It’s an interesting concept…,” she tried weakly.

“Don’t you think the juxtaposition of the clean promise of the blank canvas and the rough finality of the tear is so powerful?”

“Yeah, absolutely.”

Was that really what people saw when they looked at this? To Megan it looked like a random collection of household items, or, at best, an artwork gone wrong.

“And then those scissors in front of it, like an innocent bystander. Such a fascinating narrative,” Jordan added.

“Hmmm…”

Megan wasn’t sure how long she could keep pretending. She certainly had to pick the location for their next date. She caught herself; did she really just think about their next date already? She brought her attention back to the present. She had to say something clever.

“It just seems to me that the scissors couldn’t have caused that tear. It’s too irregular. I think a cut with the scissors would have been cleaner.”

Did that make any sense? Megan desperately didn’t want to come across stupid or ignorant in front of Jordan.

“That’s an interesting point. Go on.” Jordan was now looking at her interestedly. There was a slight twinkle in her eyes, as if she knew something Megan didn’t.

“Well, it’s almost like someone is trying to frame the scissors by putting them there?”

“You’re right… Do you think it’s a depiction of any particular theme in our current society?”

“I guess it could be…,” Megan said doubtfully, hoping Jordan wouldn’t ask her what theme that would be.

Jordan looked at her with a serious expression a moment longer before bursting out laughing. Her outburst was so sudden and out of place in the quiet museum that Megan had to laugh too.

“What?” She asked.

“Your face!” Jordan said, still giggling. “You’re good!”

When Megan looked at her, not understanding, she continued: “Come on, anyone can make this and call it art, right? It’s just a matter of coming up with a good story around it. Whenever I used to go to a museum with my brother, we would make up stories around the pieces. The crazier or more pretentious, the better. It’s still one of my favourite things to do!”

“Oh my god, I totally thought you were serious!” Megan was as much surprised as she was relieved. Jordan sure had the lingo down.

Jordan laughed again. “I know. I could see that. Come on, we have to try it!”

She grabbed Megan’s hand and pulled her along to the dangling rope she was looking at earlier. Her hand felt oddly familiar in Megan’s, as if they’d been holding hands for years. Part of her hoped Jordan would hold on to it, but she let go once they reached their destination.

“What do you think this piece is about?” Jordan asked her.

Megan looked at the rope. It came out of a hole in the ceiling and extended nearly to the floor, where it ended in a knot. Megan still wasn’t sure it was even an art piece. She had nothing.

“I really don’t know…,” she said, not wanting to make a fool out of herself.

“I think that this artist tried to represent the struggle of climbing towards the glass ceiling. Not actually using glass for the ceiling reflects the obscurity of what lies beyond,” Jordan said with a straight face.

Megan laughed. “Hey, if that PhD doesn’t work out, you can always be an art critic!”

They moved to the next piece: a simple wooden chair with only one leg at one of its corners, which was kept upright with invisible threads to the ceiling. The chair was standing in piles of saw dust.

Jordan looked at Megan expectantly. It was her turn.

“Well… I think it’s pretty obvious,” Megan started. “This chair belonged to one of the first explorers of the Amazon rain forest. He had back problems, you see, so he had to bring his own chair. One day, he sat down on a big pile of sand to survey the work of his research assistants, and that’s when he made the first ever discovery of wood-eating termites.”

Jordan laughed. “Very good! Why didn’t they eat the other leg?”

“Erm… Well, he would pick his nose a lot, this guy. And he always smeared his bogies on that front leg. Termites obviously don’t eat bogies.”

“Obviously!” Jordan chortled.

They moved around the hall, taking turns describing the art pieces and getting more creative and giggly with each new explanation. Megan never imagined she could have this much fun in a modern art museum. It was only when a gallery attendant informed them that the museum was closing that they realised they were the last people left.

They headed for the exit but just before getting there, Jordan veered off to a door with a ‘staff only’ sign.

“Come on, this way,” she said, opening the door with a flourish.

“Are you sure? That says ‘staff only’.”

“I’m certain! This is where the next part of our date takes us.”

The door led to a stairwell and they started climbing the stairs. Worried they would get into trouble, Megan asked: “Do you know where these stairs lead?”

“Of course I do!” Jordan said nonchalantly. When she saw Megan’s reluctant face, she added: “Relax… We can be here. My brother works here. I pulled some strings.”

That was still very vague but reassuring nonetheless. Megan remembered reading about Jordan’s two older brothers. She was interested in finding out more about her family.

“Is this the same brother with whom you used to make fun of the art works?”

“The very one: Clay. He went on to work here, so he now needs to know the real stories behind the art too. Much less fun that way.”

“And you have a little sister too,” Megan said, trying to trigger Jordan into telling her more.

“Yeah, Tasha, the little monkey. And I have another brother, Lloyd. He’s the oldest.”

“Wow, big family!”

“Yeah, we’re close too. Tasha is obviously a bit of a later addition but I really liked growing up with two older brothers. We were always roughhousing together. Although they are stupidly protective over me too. You should have seen them trying to keep me from boxing! And now Tasha keeps begging me to teach her. I’m her role model, I think.” Jordan laughed.

Megan wanted to ask more but they reached the top of the stairs and went through a heavy fire escape door. They stepped onto the roof of the building.

“Ta-da!” Jordan said excitedly.

In front of them was a stretch of fake grass, clearly some sort of improvised roof terrace. Spread out on the grass was a picnic blanket with plastic plates, Tupperware containers, and a cooler box.

“Wow… Did you do this?” Megan said, impressed and touched that anyone would organise something like this for her.

“Yes ma’am. The grass was left from a temporary exhibition, so that came in handy.” Jordan opened the cooler box. “Beer?”

Megan glanced inside. She only had Corona in there. “What if I didn’t like beer?” She asked, laughing.

“Then we couldn’t date, unfortunately.” Jordan winked at her. “But you do, right?”

“Yeah, I do,” Megan smiled, taking a beer from Jordan.

They walked over to the edge of the building and stood next to each other in silence for a moment, admiring the view. Megan was acutely aware of the proximity of Jordan’s body to hers. She suddenly craved her touch and shifted her weight so that her arm touched Jordan’s. She willed Jordan to put her arm around her, but Jordan seemed quite content on standing side by side, lost in their own reflections. Shy and indecisive about her next move, Megan just waited.

“Are you hungry?” Jordan said after another moment. “I think we better dig in now, before the sun sets. There’s no light up here, I’m afraid.”

She went over to the picnic blanket and sat down. Megan followed her example, leaving as little space between them as she dared.

She teased: “What about candles?”

“Ah… That would have been a good one! I’ll have to remember that for the next girl I bring here.”

“Hey!” Megan playfully jabbed at Jordan, who blocked her shots with ease and trapped her hands. She held them and gave Megan a serious look.

“Now now, that’s no way of thanking me for the feast I have prepared for you,” she said in a reprimanding voice.

Megan thought of the ways in which she wanted to thank Jordan; to show her appreciation for every moment of this wonderful date. Would it be alright if she went in for a kiss? She smiled shyly at Jordan.

Ever since the boxer had explained her strange behaviour from before, Megan had no more doubts that she was serious about the fact that she liked Megan. She had no more doubts that Jordan wanted more than to get her into bed. Maybe that was why that very thought was looking more and more appealing to Megan. If they were going to do that, and keep doing that, why waste any more time?

Her body agreed eagerly; a warm rush started between her thighs and spread rapidly through her; undoubtedly reaching her cheeks and giving her that tell-tale blush. She told herself off for being premature and letting herself be guided by her, horny, emotions. Wasn’t that what she’d often criticised Rowan, and more recently Jordan, for? Suddenly ashamed, she found herself unable to hold Jordan’s gaze and gently pried her hands free.

Seemingly unperturbed, Jordan started opening the little containers to reveal an intriguing selection of chicken strips, peppers, cherry tomatoes, lettuce, grated cheese, sour cream, salsa, guacamole, and nacho chips. Next, she unpacked a stack of tortilla’s wrapped in tin foil. Megan grinned. That explained Jordan’s choice of beer; clearly she had a bit of a Mexican theme going.

“Dig in,” Jordan said with a proud grin, while she grabbed a tortilla and started piling on her toppings.

As Megan watched her for a moment, she realised how much she appreciated the lack of ceremony in the simple DIY meal. She would never have expected this, but she’d choose it any day over a formal restaurant dinner. She marvelled at Jordan’s intuition about what she might like, or perhaps about Jordan’s personal preference.

Megan prepared her own fajita and dug in eagerly. She hadn’t realised how hungry she was. As usual, she had overfilled the wrap: her toppings were falling out and the sauce was going everywhere. Struggling to keep her meal together, she tried to catch a rogue piece of chicken while licking some guacamole off her fingers. Jordan chuckled, watching her amusedly while casually sipping her beer.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you about the concept of date food?” Megan asked, a bit embarrassed about the mess she was making.

“Oh, I think this is great date food,” Jordan snickered. “It tells me a great deal about a girl, seeing how she copes with wraps.”

She leaned in closer. Megan’s heart stopped; this was the moment she’d chosen to come in for a kiss?! Megan desperately tried to swallow any food remaining in her mouth. However, instead of the expected kiss, Jordan wiped a bit of salsa off Megan’s chin with her finger and licked it off.

“And you have passed with flying colours…,” Jordan continued.

Megan smiled, embarrassed about misinterpreting the moment, and about wishing Jordan had used her mouth instead. She felt shy again, now that their attention was brought to the fact that they were on a date. Despite little pockets of pleasant tension, the whole experience felt a lot like they were two friends having a picnic.

Megan wondered suddenly if she’d put Jordan off initiating anything physical by causing such a scene over the shower move. Looking back, she asked herself if she’d overreacted. In her current state of mind, she regretted not having turned around in the shower and returned the favour; she would kill to touch Jordan’s body the way Jordan had touched hers.

Her fear of being just a booty call had been very real at the time, but it felt ungrounded now. She would understand completely if Jordan would hang back and not risk another freak-out. If this was the case, Megan would just have to take charge and show her that she was not opposed to making this picnic more date-like.

They both had another fajita and another beer, while chatting merely. Jordan told Megan why she’d moved to town and that her father and brothers were all boxers too. Megan knew that already, of course, but she wasn’t going to admit that she’d Googled Jordan. Megan, in turn, told Jordan about how she’d filled her years since dropping out of university and what made her go back.

Talking to Jordan was easy and comfortable and Megan couldn’t believe that a few months ago she hadn’t even known the girl. She longed to extend the strong mental connection she felt into a physical one; to close the one small gap that remained between them.

With a content sigh, she leaned into Jordan, who wrapped her arm around her and moved so Megan could get comfortable. She leaned her head against Jordan’s shoulder and took in the smell of her: that coconut shampoo and a hint of perfume, mixed with beer and nachos. It was the perfect weird combination. She felt Jordan rest her cheek on her head, while they watched the view and sipped their beers. Megan knew then that she never wanted anything else than this: her and Jordan, together.

“This is it…,” Jordan whispered.

“This is what?” Megan asked, pulled from her thoughts. She hadn’t accidentally voiced any of her revelations, had she? Was Jordan thinking the same about their newfound intimacy?

“The perfect moment in the sunset. You have to see this.”

Megan realised to her dismay that Jordan was preparing to get up. Was the sunset really worth breaking up their first intimate moment? Reluctantly, she followed Jordan to the edge of the building and took in the sight that had pried her date away from her.

The sun was only just visible above the rooftops of the university buildings, rendering the sky an unnatural composition of orange and pink. An amazing array of shadows and reflections was revealed, which seemed to move even as they watched. The light illuminated the pond on the campus and gave the old hospital adjacent a spooky glare. Further back, the tall office buildings of the business district looked like jewels with their glass facades. It was a stunning sight and Megan understood Jordan’s fascination. She took out her phone to take a picture, even though she knew it would never capture the full magic.

“Let’s take a selfie,” Jordan said, seeing her with her phone.

She stepped onto the low wall that marked the edge of building, giving Megan heart palpitations at the thought of her falling off. Now being roughly the same height, Jordan hugged Megan from behind while Megan took the picture.

“Aw, we are adorable!” Megan laughed happily. They looked cute together; anyone would have to admit that.

“Let me see!” Jordan said.

Megan handed her phone to Jordan, who studied the picture and agreed they were indeed adorable.

“Hey, what’s this?” Jordan asked suddenly. Megan, who had diverted her attention back to the view, looked up to see Jordan showing her a picture of herself holding a trophy.

Shit. Megan hadn’t thought about the victor photo of Jordan she’d saved on her phone a few months ago. She didn’t have a lot of photos on her phone, so it would have been right there when Jordan went back to the photo gallery.

“Why do you have this?” Jordan asked.

There was something sincere about her expression; she wasn’t trying to expose Megan or make fun of her. Instead, the existence of the photo on Megan’s phone, and its implications, seemed like an astonishing discovery to her.

“Why do you think I have that?” Megan countered, feeling self-conscious.

If she hadn’t already, Jordan would soon piece together that Megan had searched for her online and had decided to keep that picture to look at over and over again; that Megan had liked her for a lot longer than she probably expected.

“But this fight was ages ago… It was when I got that black eye. I can already see that coming up in this picture.” She laughed, and then continued seriously: “Wasn’t that the first time we chatted?”

Before Megan could stop her, Jordan had revealed the date on which the photo was saved and said it out loud, contemplating.

“Yeah, that must have been roughly when we first chatted…,” she concluded, giving Megan a curious look.

“Yes, it was, okay? I Googled you…”

“Clearly…” Jordan was grinning now. She asked teasingly: “And you saved this great shot of me, why exactly?”

There was no point denying anything so obvious; Megan felt a sudden urge to come clean completely. “If you must know, I’ve had a crush on you for a long time… I thought you were so hot; from the moment I first saw you, even before this. And then when you told me your name…” Megan gestured at her phone to indicate that one thing led to another.

“Oh wow, I didn’t know…,” Jordan mused. She added: “I thought it was much later; when I saw you checking me out in the changing room.” She winked cheekily.

Megan was mortified she brought that up. “Oh my god. You saw that?” She knew Jordan had seen it, but she’d been hoping that maybe she’d only seen the back end of it.

Jordan’s booming laugh smashed her hopes. “Oh yeah… You had a real good look there, didn’t you?”

Trying to change the subject, Megan said: “Well, at least I knew I liked you straightaway. Can’t say the same about you!”

“Oh, low blow!” Jordan laughed.

“Unlike Sam,” Megan continued, pleased to have turned the tables on the teasing game. “Maybe I should have dated Sam instead. What is she like?” She threw Jordan a challenging look, meanwhile glad that Sam had met that other woman, whoever she was.

Jordan wrapped her arms around Megan’s waist and pulled her close. “Sam is awesome,” she said, even though Megan had lost all interest in Sam the moment those arms had embraced her. “But not as awesome as me. You’ll meet her. I have to warn you though: you don’t stand a chance. She’s all loved up.” Jordan paused, holding Megan’s gaze.

“And so am I…,” she concluded.

At that, she leaned in and pressed her lips to Megan’s at last. All evening, Megan had been expecting it, hoping for it, and yet it took her by surprise when it finally happened. She recovered quickly and let her lips fold around Jordan’s, tasting the curious mix of beer and nachos. Undoubtedly, Jordan could taste the same on her and, somehow, this enhanced their shared experience.

Jordan’s lips opened slightly while increasing their passionate pressure. Megan felt Jordan’s tongue tracing her lips and slip inside her mouth. When their tongues finally embraced, Megan could feel the sensation coursing through her whole body. She pressed herself into Jordan, who tightened her arms around her waist and held her as if she would never let go again. That would be alright with Megan.

Their kiss seemed to continue forever, yet not long enough. When they finally broke it off, they both went straight back for another, and another, and another; the beautiful sunset long forgotten. Months of anticipation and denying themselves finally came flowing out all at once; they were playing catch-up; making up for lost time. Even when it started to rain, they didn’t let go of each other; rain drops mingling with the moisture from their lips.

Light rain turned into heavy rain and soon after, it was pouring. Megan and Jordan finally entangled themselves, wondering where that sudden downfall came from; a moment ago the sun had been gloriously unobstructed. But had it only been a moment, or had they lost time completely in their embrace? It was certainly dark now and they used the torches on their phones to gather the picnic supplies, giggling as they tipped the rain water out of the Tupperware.

“The building is closed now, so we have to go down the fire escape. You’re not afraid of heights, are you?” Jordan said.

“It’s a bit too late if I was, isn’t it?” Megan teased.

“Well, yes… I’d have to blindfold you and guide you.”

Megan laughed. “I’m not sure that would make it better!”

They carefully made their way down the slippery metal stairs, holding on to each other and the railings. It was quite a terrifying experience. Jordan apologised profusely that she hadn’t brought an umbrella; rain had not been part of the plan. For Megan, however, this was the best date she’d ever been on; umbrella or no umbrella.

Jordan went ahead of Megan into her tiny student room. It wasn’t exactly a dream palace to take a date home to, but it was where the evening had taken them.

Surprised by the sudden downpour during their rooftop picnic, Megan had suggested they cut through the university campus to try and find shelter under the buildings. Since they were both soaked to the bone, Jordan had proposed they stop in her room on campus to wait out the worst of the rain. She’d been a little nervous to bring this up since she didn’t want Megan to again think she was just trying to lure her into bed. Fortunately, the shivering Megan had been keen on the idea and had agreed gratefully.

“Make yourself at home,” Jordan said. “I’ll go make us some tea.”

She rushed off to the kitchen, unwilling to leave Megan’s side for too long. She had already known she liked the girl, but after tonight, she could easily say she was head-over-heels. Apart from the rain, the date had gone swimmingly. Megan seemed to be enjoying herself and Jordan was pretty sure she’d redeemed herself for her earlier mess. She’d been amazed to find out that Megan had liked her from the very beginning, which made her want to try even harder to deserve the girl’s affection.

When she came back into the room with two steaming hot cups of tea, Megan was standing by her boxing poster, having clearly used her time alone to check out every inch of the room.

“Friend of yours?” She asked with a smile.

“I wish!” Did Megan really not know who that was? “That’s Nicola Adams. She’s the best female boxer in my weight division, or probably across all divisions. She’s a total rock star!”

“And she’s cute too. That helps, doesn’t it?” Megan teased.

“Not as cute as you,” Jordan countered with a wink.

“Oh, too smooth!” Megan laughed.

Jordan started taking off her wet clothes and saw Megan staring at her in shock.

“You should really get out of those wet clothes. You’ll get a cold,” she said, stripping off her trousers.

Megan shook her head and sat down on the bed. “I’ll be alright. I’ll just have some tea.”

Jordan shrugged and took off her shirt. Her underwear was a bit wet too but judging by the look on Megan’s face, she probably shouldn’t take that off in front of her. The girl had that same expression as the first time she’d seen Jordan in her underwear. Jordan grinned; Megan was easily impressed. She slipped into a pair of joggers and a dry t-shirt, hoping that would restore Megan’s ability to have a normal conversation.

“You’re shivering…,” Jordan said, as she sat next to Megan. “And your lips are turning blue.” She kissed them lightly for emphasis.

Megan gave a satisfied little moan. “But that helps. Do that again.”

“What helps is to get out of these wet clothes. I’d run you a hot bath but…” Jordan gestured helplessly at the size of her room. “I think you should have a hot shower though; warm up a bit.”

“I’m not getting anywhere near a shower with you around! You clearly have no respect for boundaries,” Megan said jokingly.

Jordan laughed. “You seemed to quite enjoy it at the time,” she teased back.

This was the first time they’d addressed that situation again. As she said it, she wondered if it had been the wrong thing to say. She didn’t want Megan to think she didn’t take her objections serious.

“Hmmm, I did…,” Megan finally admitted, lifting the weight of the world off Jordan’s shoulders. “I really thought then that you just wanted sex though,” she added, without meeting Jordan’s eyes.

Jordan raised Megan’s head up with her hand and looked deep into her eyes. “I really didn’t. I promise.” She kissed Megan lips affectionately. “You’re not getting off that easy,” she added with a smile.

Megan started to say something but stopped herself. She went bright red. Jordan burst out laughing. What was that thought? She was dying to know.

“What did you want to say?”

“Nothing!” Megan blushed even harder.

“I hope it didn’t have anything to do with getting off?”

Megan’s reaction told Jordan that she’d guessed right.

“It didn’t!” Megan burst out, before launching a well-aimed punch at Jordan’s shoulder. As Jordan started laughing, Megan got up quickly and said: “I think I’ll have that shower after all.”

“Go ahead. Although I now think that maybe you’d better cool off instead of warm up.” Jordan was still laughing as a mortified Megan disappeared into the bathroom.

Jordan took the opportunity to take off her wet underwear. As she kept her clean underwear in the bathroom, she slipped back into her joggers and t-shirt without it.

She fidgeted restlessly. What should she do while she waited? The thought of Megan naked in her shower, just an unlocked door away, was seriously distracting. Once again, she found herself sorely tempted to join her. She might have, if she hadn’t made that mistake once before. Instead, she sat down on her desk chair and played on her phone, not really taking anything in.

When Megan emerged from the bathroom, she was wearing Jordan’s satin boxing robe. Her pink hair was even punkier than usual, clearly having been towel dried roughly. She gave a quick twirl, showing off Jordan’s name in large letters across the back of the robe. She looked so adorable in the bright green garment with the black trims that Jordan was speechless for a moment.

“There wasn’t anything else,” Megan said shyly, when she saw Jordan staring at her.

She was right. Apart from Jordan’s underwear, there wasn’t a single piece of clothing to be found in that bathroom. Even the robe was only there because Jordan had been trying to steam out some creases. Jordan wondered suddenly if Megan had borrowed some of her underwear or if she’d decided to go commando too? She certainly kept pulling that robe together nervously as if she was hiding something. Jordan mouth went dry and she took a quick swig of tea.

“Anyway, I was sort of waiting for you to join me in the shower,” Megan said, casually pushing the robe open a little bit to reveal a deep, bra-less cleavage.

Jordan almost choked on her tea. “You’re joking, right?”

She was about to explain how she would have loved to, but thought that she’d be out of line again, when Megan giggled.

“Yeah, I was.”

“Damn girl. What are you doing to me?” Jordan burst out, grinning at Megan’s cheekiness.

“Well…,” Megan said as she started untying the band that held the robe together.

Jordan moved to the edge of her seat and hoped her eyes wouldn’t pop out of her head with the intensity of her stare.

Megan hesitated and fidgeted. Jordan saw that her hands on the band were shaking lightly.

“I’m sorry…,” she said. “I’m not usually this shy. It’s just… You make me so nervous.”

Jordan smiled at her warmly, her heart melting at the girl’s admission. “Hey, it’s okay,” she said, as she got up and moved towards Megan, intending to take her in her arms.

“It’s not… I really wanted to be all smooth and sexy. And just drop this robe for you. But…” Megan averted her gaze and shuffled on the spot, clearly losing her nerve rapidly.

“Why don’t we do it together then?” Jordan pulled her shirt over her head as she set another step towards Megan.

Megan’s eyes grew big as she looked at Jordan’s now naked upper body, her gaze sliding over her stomach, her arms, her breasts.

“Oh Jordan, you’re so hot…,” she mumbled. “Your abs… They just don’t look real.”

Jordan suppressed a snicker and closed the distance between them. She took Megan’s hand and lay it on her belly, enjoying the sensation of the girl’s hand on her skin.

“They are real,” she said. “This is all real…” She moved Megan’s hand to one of her small breasts. “And it’s all yours.”

She wrapped her arms around Megan and kissed her, their tongues embracing again as they had done in the pouring rain. Megan’s hands explored her upper body carefully, as if she was still questioning its authenticity. A shiver of pleasure went through Jordan’s body as Megan’s fingers brushed over her nipples.

Jordan touched the band of the robe and asked: “May I?”

Megan nodded and Jordan slowly untied the knot. She let the robe slide open to reveal a strip of nakedness down the centre of Megan’s body. Jordan forced her eyes to go slowly and trace a path from Megan’s collarbone, to her belly button, and then to her sex. She took in the strip of light-coloured hair that seemed to show her the way; invite her to follow it down.

With another look at Megan to make sure it was okay, she slid the robe off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. Her mind going blank with sheer affection and desire, she marvelled at Megan’s breasts as they were revealed. She remembered the feeling of them in her hands; their soft weight resting against her palms.

She took Megan in her arms again and pressed her naked chest against Megan’s. Her hands slowly traced Megan’s back and found those cute little dimples above her buttocks that matched the ones in her cheeks, which she had first discovered in the shower. Her hands followed the curve of her buttocks down and came to a rest there.

“You are so beautiful, Megan,” she said softly.

“Lose the sweatpants,” Megan replied, rather less emotionally.

Jordan grinned and complied eagerly. As the fabric slid down her thighs, she watched Megan take in the new parts of her body that were revealed to her.

“God, you are perfect,” Megan huffed, almost in frustration, before kissing Jordan eagerly.

Her kiss had a new urgency, her lips and tongue pressing into Jordan’s hungrily, devouring her. Jordan responded by pulling Megan’s body into her and guiding her towards her single bed, where they crashed down rather unceremoniously; a tangle of naked arms and legs.

“I never put out on the first date,” Megan said, pausing. It seemed she was surprised to find herself in this position, rather than trying to stop herself.

“I feel like we’ve sort of been dating for a while, in a way…,” Jordan replied sincerely.

“Yeah, me too…” Sufficiently reassured, Megan resumed her ravenous kisses of Jordan’s receptive lips.

For a while, they were all over each other: rolling and turning; caressing and touching, tangling and untangling themselves, while their lips never broke contact. It was when Megan’s hand slipped between Jordan’s legs and made her gasp in surprise, that they slowed. Panting, Jordan settled half on top of Megan, her head on Megan’s shoulder.

Megan’s fingers slid between her lips and traced her slowly yet deliberately. Megan was a woman on a mission. Jordan moaned as Megan’s fingers found her clit and gently started rubbing it. She propped herself up to kiss Megan again and matched the movements of her tongue to those of Megan’s fingers.

Breaking off the kiss, she let her own hand slide down Megan’s belly and over the neat strip of coarse hair. Her fingers glided into her slit, which was slick with her moisture. Exploring gently, she listened for Megan’s cues as she zeroed in on her sensitive areas. Soon, it became hard to distinguish between her fingers and Megan’s, her clit and Megan’s, as they settled into an intoxicating rhythm of synchronised moves.

Her lips were on Megan’s; then Megan’s voice was in her ear, moaning quietly; her mouth was on Megan’s nipple; Megan’s mouth on hers; their lips met again. It was like a well-coordinated dance that neither of them had rehearsed, yet both of them executed perfectly; complementing and completing the other’s every move.

Megan pushed her hips up and started to breathe faster. Jordan felt herself getting close to her climax too, which was encouraged further by seeing Megan’s body responding to her own pleasure. Continuing as long as she dared and concentrating on holding back her own desire, she kept indulging Megan while raining down kisses on her neck and chest. When Megan groaned loudly while at the same time giving a hard thrust with her hips, Jordan had to squirm away from Megan’s fingers. Close call.

“Not yet…,” she gasped.

“I want to taste you,” Megan murmured.

“I want to taste you too.” The thought made Jordan almost come again.

“Turn around…”

Jordan pried herself away from Megan’s arms. As she shuffled and prepared to get into position, Megan broke through this slightly awkward phase by grabbing on to her thighs and pulling her down over her face. Jordan didn’t have much time to think about how quickly Megan was going to be intimately familiar with her pussy, as right in front of her own face, wiping every coherent thought from her brain, was Megan’s.

There was a brief moment in which they both hovered, not yet giving into the desire of devouring what was in front of them. Then Megan gave another tuck on Jordan’s thighs and Jordan complied by settling herself onto Megan’s mouth. She gasped as Megan’s tongue slid between her lips and started licking and sucking her eagerly.

Overwhelmed by desire, Jordan lowered her own face to Megan’s pussy. She dipped her tongue inside her hungrily and took in the taste of her sweet juices. Feeling Megan’s tongue darting skilfully around her clit, she set to work on Megan’s, provoking small squeals of pleasure.

They seemed to have an unspoken agreement to take their time, each pausing briefly when they felt the other getting too close. Jordan wanted this to last forever; she would happily spend eternity wrapped up in this numeric position with Megan. Inevitably, however, their lust was building and pauses became more frequent. It became harder to concentrate on giving Megan pleasure when the sensations between Jordan’s legs were reaching unparalleled heights. She sensed from the erratic movements of Megan’s tongue that she had the same problem.

Jordan couldn’t hold off much longer and she wanted Megan to come as badly as she wanted it for herself. If they had been in any other position, she would have checked with Megan before starting the home run, but as they were both rather occupied, she decided to take her chances.

Increasing her pressure on Megan’s pussy and no longer intending to pause, she ground herself into Megan’s face. Megan’s lips and tongue were everywhere and Jordan wasn’t sure anymore if Megan was licking or sucking her, or if she was merely rubbing herself against the girl.

She mimicked the sensations to Megan’s pussy as best as she could master and felt Megan’s body responding. Megan uttered a muffled moan and her hands were shaking on Jordan’s thighs, her fingers digging into the flesh. Suddenly, she was shaking all over and Jordan let herself go too. Their mutual orgasm passed over them in an overwhelming wave of other-worldly ecstasy, as their bodies trembled on top of each other and they groaned into each other’s skin.

After what seemed an eternity of bliss, Jordan became aware of the sensation of gentle kisses on her pussy and thighs. Megan was slowly waking her up from her climax coma. Jordan crawled awkwardly out of her position on top of Megan, her legs protesting after being in the same position for so long. Sighing contently, she settled back into her position in Megan’s arms and snuggled her neck.

“Oh my god…,” was all Jordan could say.

“Yeah…,” Megan offered, similarly eloquent.

Jordan propped herself up on her elbow and looked at Megan’s spent face. As she struggled to find the words to describe how amazing Megan was, Megan said, as if reading her mind: “Just kiss me.”

With a smile, Jordan did just that, savouring the irresistible taste of sex on Megan’s lips. Megan responded, deepening their kiss as their feelings became one. Jordan again felt that overwhelming sense of affection coursing through her whole body. As she let herself be swept away by it, her eyes welled up, to her surprise.

Jordan gently broke off the kiss and settled onto Megan’s shoulder, feeling a tear leave her eye. As she listened to Megan’s breathing, she realised with staggering clarity that she loved this girl. It may be a while before it would be acceptable to admit it, but there was no doubt in Jordan’s mind: she loved Megan, and she would love her for as long as she’d let her.

“Will you stay?” She whispered.

“If you’d like me to.”

“I would. I’d like to wake up just like this, with you next to me, every morning,” Jordan said honestly.

“I’d like that too. Although perhaps we could try my bed sometime. It’s a little bigger.”

Jordan smiled and hugged Megan tight. “I don’t need it to be big. I’ll be right here anyway.”

Jordan must have dozed off after that, because she woke up to Megan kissing her gently and caressing her belly.

“Oh sorry, did I wake you?” Megan asked innocently.

“Is it morning already?” Jordan felt groggy and it was dark in the room.

“Not quite, but I couldn’t wait until morning…,” Megan replied in a seductive voice, as she rolled on top of the sleepy Jordan. She pushed Jordan’s legs apart and settled between them.

Jordan smiled and pulled Megan closer, meeting her demanding lips. This would be a long and fun night; the first of many.

The post The Boxer appeared first on sexstories.org.

Heidi started to shed her work clothes as soon as she shut the front door. She stood naked in the bath, in too much of a hurry for a shower and used a wet flannel to remove the sensation of the office clinging to her skin. A walk in the warm sea breeze was just the lift she needed, it was Friday and her weekend started now! Slipping into a bikini and her sarong, she put on sandals, grabbed her pre-packed bag and headed out for the short walk to the beach. This was the life, she thought happily, with a grin on her face and lightness to her step. Single, earning enough to pay her mortgage and other bills and comfortable in her own company! She slowed her pace as she passed the beach huts with the older couples firmly ensconced in their beach chairs, belongings stowed away precisely on the few shelves inside; as if they’d lived in these huts year round.

During days spent on the beach she often put the camouflage of dark sunglasses to good use, observing without being observed. She didn’t usually go this late in the day, it was already early evening, but she’d go to the tea rooms on her way home. They were open till late and there were always plenty of people to watch from the garden tables there if the beach had nothing to offer. The breeze rustled through the lilac bushes, wafting their sweet fragrance to her as she passed and carrying a subtle undertone of the salty and somewhat sweet scent of damp driftwood.

Heidi’s shoes scrunched and slid on the stone shingle. She was being extravagantly noisy with deliberate intent, for she had seen the lovers entwined on their towel. They were too intent upon their increasing gratification to acknowledge her approach with any attempt at modesty. The woman gently stroked her lover’s bare flesh, fingers tracing a path from ribs to hip and then drifting down to his inner thigh, while he sucked her nipple deep into his mouth.

While trying but failing to do the honourable thing and look elsewhere, she became spectacularly aroused. Her eyes were drawn to his erection which was clearly defined as his lover rose up to straddle him. Her full skirt dropped down to cover their flesh but did little to disguise the gentle pelvic thrusting.

She glanced round, partly worried someone might catch her being a voyeur and half hoping there was someone else observing so she could share this erotic moment. As if the choice was magically hers, she spotted what she wanted in her peripheral vision: a man aroused by the scene before her, with his hand busy on his cock. Normally she would consider the sight of a man with his trousers round his ankles somewhat farcical. This time it turned her on.

She felt herself moisten and her clit begin to throb as she watched him standing and working away at his erection.

He smoothed the palm of his other hand across the moist tip while he watched the couple on the towel.

Suddenly he spotted her standing on the other side of the driftwood log, her attention drifting between the couple on the towel and himself. Catching her eye he gave her a languorous, sexy smile, loaded with blatant invitation. Heidi undid her sarong and let it drop, taking a hesitant step towards him. He shook his head and with his shirt already discarded, stepped out of his trousers and moved towards her, his grip firmly around the head of his engorged cock.
He came to her. She felt herself warm as his penis silkily brushed her bare midriff. She stroked it before gripping his firm ass, feeling him quiver in response.
Grasping her upper arms, he lowered her down onto the large flat driftwood beside them. Heidi brushed away her concern about splinters as she felt the roughness of the wood against her buttocks. She abandoned herself to the sensations of their hands on each other.

He kissed her as if he was desperate for the touch of her lips; gasping with each contact.

She slid her tongue across the front of his teeth. He reciprocated by kissing her neck. At the same time he flicked at her clit through the fabric of her bikini. He
did it delicately, just enough pressure to make her want more.

He was so multi-skilled that soon she was unable to maintain a coherent train of thought. She untied her bikini strings and shifted her hips, succeeding in easing her bared clit against his fingers with each twitch.

Opening her eyes, she found his deep green ones looking at her, his lust apparent in the dilation of his pupils. Finding the eye contact slightly off-putting, she shifted on to her side, and ground her ass into him.

He pulled on her hips to increase the pressure of her against his straining cock and ran his hands up to her breasts, gently pinching her nipples, his mouth hot and wet on the back of her neck.

He started fumbling in his discarded trousers. ‘Protection,’ he explained.
He brought out a condom.

Using his hand, he guided himself down to brush against the moistness of her, bringing the viscous fluid back up onto the lubricated condom to further ease his entry. She tensed slightly as he began to penetrate her, afraid of the sensation this new experience brought. Sensing her reticence, he contributed to her comfort by kissing the back of her neck.

Though the penetration was mildly painful, the sensation soon blossomed into sheer pleasure. She whimpered with disappointment as he suddenly withdrew. Had he finished already?

He turned her over to face him and whispered, ‘I was going to come and wanted a chance to feel you reach ecstasy first’. What should have sounded contrived instead brought her to the brink of orgasm, combined as it was with his eye contact and skilful attention to her clitoris. He slipped off the condom, drawing her hand down to touch his hard cock. Groaning as she tightened her fingers around the head of his dick, he tore open a new condom packet. Heidi took the condom from his fingers with her mouth and used her lips and tongue to roll it onto him. He shuddered as she lowered herself onto him, mimicking the earlier movements of the other woman. His cock throbbed inside her as he held her hips, helping her to raise and lower herself. Reaching up he pushed her bikini top up over her breasts. His hands were rough; deliciously rough.

Leaning down she slid her hands under his ass. She melted on to him gasping as the waves of orgasm washed over her. He pounded himself up and into her in his haste to follow her lead.

Exhausted, she lay with her face pressed into his shoulder. Suddenly she heard the sound of sliding shingle. She looked up. The couple from the dunes had their arms around each other, walking in that perfect synchronicity that only comes with complete togetherness. The woman’s legs showed through her dress as they headed towards the descending sun.

The woman glanced over her shoulder, caught Heidi’s eye and winked; a huge grin blossoming on to her face as she turned away. Heidi realised she was exposed and slid off the man, covering herself with her towel while she wriggled back into her bikini.

As he dressed she began to collect her belongings which had scattered when she’d dropped her beach bag. Feeling peculiarly awkward with someone she had only minutes before been totally intimate with was confusing and she needed the excuse to avoid eye contact and halt the growing silence between them.

What must he think of me, she mused, then wondered why it mattered. She had no intention of seeing him again. For one thing, she couldn’t trust his impulse control. The man leapt into rampant sexual encounters with total strangers and that was no foundation on which to build a trusting relationship, no matter how great the encounter had been. She laughed inwardly, knowing there was more than a little need to insert the words, ‘pot, kettle and black’ into her train of thought. Judging by the tense set of his shoulders she sensed the urge to escape was mutual and that he was mulling over various exit lines.

She decided to put him out of his misery.
‘Once was perfect, let’s not ruin the memory by trying to improve on it,’ she said.

She threw him a cheeky grin, said ‘thank you and goodbye,’ then turned and walked away.

A glass of cold wine would taste marvellous while having a hot bath, she decided. She stopped for supper at the tea rooms and then languidly made her way home for her second favourite indulgence. The scents of the lilac blossoms were even lovelier then when she’d passed them earlier, the fragrance must become more potent as the night drew in. Or perhaps she was fully receptive now that she had completely recovered from her earlier strenuous activity. It was lovely being single, she thought happily as she slipped into the water, her favourite fragrance rising to meet her from the bath oil. The wine was cool, a delightful counterbalance to the heat of the water on her skin. Putting the empty glass down she slid deeper, resting her head on the back of the bath and letting her legs go akimbo. She opened and closed her knees enjoying the sensation of the waves of heat washing between her legs. Becoming aroused, she thought back over the experience on the beach, stroking herself slowly to a limb-melting orgasm. Even though she had no desire to repeat the beach experience in reality; it was obviously going to be used as fantasy fodder for the indefinite future.

The post Driftwood appeared first on sexstories.org.

How many times have I witnessed this scene? Her gaze is directed at her Black lover’s face, a look that tells him of her submission to him etched almost painfully on her face. Her look shows many things, a determination to take each inch of his hardness that he is forcing deep inside her body, a craving need to feel the fullness he presents in the form of his fat cock, but mostly her look tells him she is his, his to do with as he pleases even though I stand just feet from them. He can tell that at this moment in time she is his as surely as if he is the man married to her. We all know without it being spoken, that right at this instant even if I begged her to stop that she couldn’t, that the forces building inside her as his manhood forces to her depths prevents her thinking about marriage, love, or the consequences of her actions. No, at this moment his swelling cock is her world, her everything, her reason for living, and all that she loves and cherishes at any other time means nothing and she is as powerless to prevent her total submission as I am as I witness her utter subjugation to the feelings his ebony staff imparts and the all-consuming addiction it imbues.

Again as always my cock strains at my pants, precum wetting my underwear as it oozes from my tip at my excitement as I watch her hips hunching quickly, roughly, into his stallion of a cock, trying vainly to entice his balls to fill her with his seed as she herself nears orgasmic bliss. It is always like this, me mesmerized by her cries and moans of pained pleasure, her pleading for his cock, unable to stop orgasming as he stretches her in places and ways that I never have and will never be able to. And the humiliation as I take my cock out and begin slowly jerking off while he enjoys my wife’s warm body, yes always the humiliation as her horse cocked lover tells her to look at me and my smaller white cock and tell me her pussy is only for his big black dick. Inevitably, after her faltering, torn by her loyalty to me, he rams his long cock to his balls and repeats his demand as he fucks her hard and she screams pleadingly. “No, Please, NO! Don’t make me” and then as her gaze falls on me standing there jacking off, her fingers clenching at his asscheeks as she feels his thick cock stretching her, she realizes that yes, it is true, he is only demanding her to tell the truth at this instant and with her voice quavering with relief and finality she softly exclaims, “Yes, yes, oh god baby my pussy is his baby, only his” and her thighs tighten around him, pulling her pussy up into his hardest thrusts as she begins cumming hard, cumming as he rewards her by fucking her fast, hard and most importantly deep, deep where I have never been and will never go as her eyes tell me of the need she feels for his huge cock. The love I see etched on her face, and the passion in her eyes as she gazes at him makes me throb and my cock feels it will burst as she kisses him, sucking his tongue deep in her mouth as her hips roll quickly, hunching with him as her body expresses her love for the pleasure she feels deep inside her pussy. I watch as their movements become excited, hunching in harmony with their increasing needs. My hands stroke my cock faster and I squeeze harder as her pleasure seems to fill my own body with an increasing need to cum.

I watch her kiss him as he presses deep inside her, hear her moans from deep in her lungs and know her tongue is feverishly entwined with his and she’s sucking at him hotly. Her body moves with the excitement of her craving, lost to the need he instills within her mind and body. Her kiss is her silent way of total submission to his will. This woman, my wife and mother of our children, the same person that once told me of her utter disdain and disgust at the thought of a black man’s touch is sucking hard on his tongue while her hips grind frantically into his forward thrusting movements, her hands pleading for more by the way they clasp and pull at his hunching asscheeks, thighs opening to allow him to claim his rightful treasure, then jerking closed, gripping his body as he penetrates her depths painfully. Her face is strained with her orgasms, her body locked in place as he continues to hammer her deeply, her arms encircling him, holding her body to him tightly as her screams and pleasure filled moans resound in my ears. My cock is pounding as her excruciating pleasure seems to radiate through my own being until that moment when our gazes lock once again and her eyes seem to plead with me to make him stop before she goes insane from the intense pleasure his thick, hard cock is imbuing inside her. But instead of finding relief in my actions her moans turn to screams and her body tenses even tighter as my sperm rockets from my tip to jet towards her face, my hands pumping quickly, sporadically, as I explode from the pleasure his fucking of her, and more importantly her reactions to it, induces into my mind and body.

“Fuck her, Fuck my white slut wife” my mind roars, “Make her beg, make her beg for your huge black cock to cum”, punish her pussy, pound it deep, hurt it, make her scream” my mind silently pleads as I jerk with each new hot expulsion of my seed. I need this, I need to see him punish her pussy and make her love and crave his dick. A part of me hates hearing her passionate sighs and moaning pleas for him to never stop fucking her pussy, my wife’s pussy. But, like her, a larger more dominant part of me craves the debasement of us both by our actions. The humiliation we both feel as he taunts her, using her as I watch his total domination of my wife and soul mate, somehow fuels the fire we both feel inside us. Both of us experience emotions and thoughts that no other act gives us as his ebony staff explores the depths of her body. We are both addicted to this act. I allow my wife to be used like a common slut, a receptacle for any black man’s seed bringing humiliation upon myself while she also is humiliated by the way she is powerless in front of me, her husband, to control her reaction to his powerful fucking of her pussy.

From the first instant her mouth slides over a black man’s cock she is powerless to prevent her utter subjugation to his will. And my own mind sinks to a carnal place where, like her, I find pleasure in them performing any debasement they wish upon her. And once our minds become shrouded with that carnality any black man that wishes to use her may take his place in her body. My dick never fails to harden as I watch a train of black men use her mouth, pussy and ass as their cum dump while she screams her pleasure, begging them to fuck her faster, deeper, harder. She knows I see her love for their huge black cocks and that fact makes her pleasure at feeling their huge cocks stretching her pussy even more intense and thrilling.

My wife is a woman, a woman that proclaims her love only for me but also a woman that has needs of her own, needs that I can never fulfill now that she has felt the fatness and length of a black man’s cock. I have to wonder at times if her love for me is as strong as the craving need she has for black cock now. She is now a black cock craving slut, someone that craves to feel a black cock cumming deep within her pussy, addicted to a feeling that I, her husband, can never provide. I find myself wishing there were more big black cocks here for her to fuck as I watch them. I find her moans of satisfaction and her reaction to his fucking his meaty ebony rod deep inside her till only his balls are visible to me very addicting and pleasureable. Her craving drives him to pound her hard, wanting me to see my wife’s need for his cock and love of his hot seed spewing inside her body. It always hardens their dicks knowing I am a witness to my wife’s love of their dicks, knowing she cannot control the craving their huge black cocks impart to her mind and body even though I’m watching her provoke their cum.

And this man does that superbly as he fucks her for hours, subjugating her every word, action, thought with his steel hard manhood. And she obediently performs his every order, says everything he commands as she craves his cock and the feelings it provides her. He is her world for the time she is with him, his cock is her fountain of life and she drinks of it greedily, never once even extending a hand to me to join them. He fulfills her every desire, sates her growing need for ebony balls to empty themselves in her body.

Often while watching her with the many black men she now fucks I remember when she was faithful to me and me alone. My wife was a woman that couldn’t even think of allowing another man to touch her back then. But that was before our curious lust consumed us both. Yes I remember when my wife never seemed all that crazy about sex, even though she cum repeatedly and enjoyed it immensely when we made love. She seldom initiated it. Maybe that was because I was fucking her every chance I got as she says and I kept her wore out, but anyway she always seemed embarrassed by liking sex. I relate this so you’ll know how different she is today. At that time she would never admit to wanting to fuck anyone else or even me for that matter. She always said size didn’t matter and that I was too big for her and hurt her at times. But sometimes when we were fucking and she was really into it I felt that she needed more but she always denied it when I asked her if she would like a bigger cock in her.

I remember the first time I really realized that my petite wife would enjoy a longer thicker cock than my own. She is only 5’ tall and weighed around 105 lbs. at the time and I always thought my cock at 8 ½ inches was plenty big especially by the way she screamed and yelled as I fucked her hard and deep. But then, one night we were playing around with a new dildo I had purchased online while watching a large cocked black guy pound a small white woman’s pussy in porn we had rented. The dildo was quite a bit larger than I had thought it to be when I ordered it, but I decided to use it on her anyway as I licked her clit.It took some doing and a good bit of lubricant to get it in her, but once the large head was wholly inside her tight pussy and I began licking and sucking her hard swollen clit her hips began moving, fucking the cock. For some reason she seemed to just gush with wetness as I sucked and fucked her with it. I could tell by her movements how much she loved the feelings that coursed through her body and soon she was begging me to fuck her with the dildo harder, deeper. As I forced almost the whole 12 inches into her I thought she would rip but her anguished moans continued to beg me to hurt her pussy, to fuck her harder, harder. She begged me not to stop as my tongue flew around her clit and I held the cock into her with my palm, pressing it into her and relaxing, fucking her with it, pounding her deep, stretching her walls as she gripped my head and hunched frenziedly up into the huge cock.

I could tell that her inhibitions were completely swept away by what she was feeling and I’d never seen her so avidly hunching and fucking as she was right then. She seemed to have just lost all her inhibitions for some reason. Then her thighs began to tense and her ass lifted from the sheets and she cum harder than I’ve ever seen her cum up to that time, a long, intense orgasm that seemed to never stop as she pushed her pussy into the dildo as I held it into her forcefully, allowing her to press her pussy all the way down on it as I sucked hard on her clit. The look that was etched on her contorted face told me she was in total ecstasy, aware only of the sensations flooding her body. At the time I didn’t notice that her eyes were locked on the TV screen the whole time. Her strained words begged me never to stop as each time her hips lowered they quickly tensed and raised again, over and over she cum until spent she collapsed on the bed with a faint embarrassed smile on her face.

I said, “Like that did you?” “Oh yes, loved it”, was her reply as she sheepishly grinned at me. I thought she was embarrassed by the intensity that she felt from the hugeness of that dildo. She had always said that size doesn’t matter but I could see how much she plainly loved the additional girth and length when it was forced into her deeply. In reality she was being sheepish because she thought I knew she was thinking about fucking a black cock and that she had just lost it because of those thoughts and the movie.

It was a few minutes later as we lay there watching these black guys fuck a white girls pussy and ass at the same time that I realized what had contributed to her arousement. I had left the dildo inside her and as we watched I noticed her hand creep down to hold it and she seemed absorbed by the action on the screen. She began slowly moving the dildo inside her, her hips moving in small circles as she felt its girth caressing her walls. I watched as she seemed entranced by the movie, her chest now rising and falling quickly as her other hand began rolling her clit under her fingers. It was easy to tell that in her mind she was putting herself into the position of the girl in the movie and she was feeling a huge black cock fucking her pussy. Soon her hips were hunching hard, her knees raised, feet flat on the bed as she lifted into the probing of her pussy deeply. Her eyes closed and she began fucking her pussy hard, deep, and soon her thighs straightened and she cum again intensely while mouthing the words, “Fuck Me!, Yes, fuck me, aarrggghhhhhhh” I began sucking her nipples and squeezing her breasts and then I said, “Fuck that black cock honey” and she seemed to just explode, her whole body began quivering and shaking uncontrollably from her feet to her head but she continued to force the dildo into her pussy tightly and continued to orgasm fiercely as her head raised and her entire body tensed.
Her eyes opened and met mine for an instant and her expression was pained as if she didn’t stop cumming she would die. I could sense from the pleading look of her eyes that she needed me to understand that she couldn’t help herself, couldn’t stop cumming, almost apologetic. I pushed the dildo into her and told her to shut her eyes and think of fucking a big black cock while I told her how hot it was making me watching him fuck his huge dick into her pussy. Her hips began instantly hunching and rolling, fucking up to the cock, pressing herself into it hard and deeply as she fucked it. I could hear her juices squishing and knew that she was flowing with wetness as she again tensed, this time her entire body lifted, tensing, her muscles straining and her back arching almost C shaped as she cum repeatedly, spasms coursing through her for many minutes before she lay sporadically shaking as her ardor subsided. She quivered for long minutes afterwards as I talked to her about her possibly wanting to fuck a black man, to feel herself cumming on a long thick black cock and to feel it shooting hot cum into her pussy.

At first she denied it, until I assured her it didn’t bother me and in fact it kind of turned me on thinking of her cumming like she just had while a black guy was fucking her. She finally admitted that she did get turned on thinking about it but knew that she couldn’t ever really do it. That admission made my cock throb with excitement for some reason. The thought of my wife hunching her tight pussy into a huge black cock, wanting it in her pussy, trying to make it cum, just made me so aroused I was ashamed by it. I worried that she would think I didn’t love her because that thought excited me so much. Needless to say we rented many more movies showing big cocked black men fucking white women until it became the only kind we enjoyed.

Months later we had both become accustomed to the others desires concerning black cock fucking her and we openly discussed it. Almost every time we made love I would instruct her to close her eyes and imagine a black man fucking her as I watched, and I talked to her as if I was watching her hunch her pussy into a black dick. I could feel her increased wetness and her avid hunching each time we did that and the more intense way she’d cum while enjoying her fantasy. Soon, all our lovemaking included fantasies of her fucking a black man to some extent. It was evident to her by the way I would harden and by my increased excitement that I did enjoy thinking of her fucking a black man. She would fuck herself with the large dildo while telling me what her black lover was doing to her and how much she loved his cock and I would cum as I watched her and I would tell her how excited I was watching as he fucked her, how it made my cock hard watching her suck his cock and balls and then fuck him so eagerly and she’d cum very intensely.

After months of fantasizing like that we began to talk about her actually fucking a black man, how we could find one to fuck her just so she could fulfill her fantasy. We talked about her reluctance to being touched by a black man and how it revolted her to think of it. In her mind she was excited about feeling a huge black cock in her pussy pounding her deep but it was as if she wanted it to be detached from the person. She didn’t want to admit that the thought of being used by a Black man, made to do his will really excited her and made her pussy drip with wetness. At that time she said that the thought of kissing a black man revolted her also but in reality she longed to be forced to do it even though she couldn’t admit it even to herself. A part of her still didn’t believe that I really wanted her to fulfill that fantasy of fucking a black guy. She was still afraid I wouldn’t respect her or love her anymore if she opened her thighs to another lover.

The openness of our conversations and the admission of our desires soon had us exploring other fantasies of hers such as being with a woman, tasting her, making love to her. She revealed to me that she wanted to watch me with another woman, see the woman suck me to completion and watch as I performed oral on her etc. In my mind I figured she was saying that because she felt guilty at my knowing how badly she wanted to feel a black man fucking her. I could tell that a part of her was crying out to feel a black man buried to his balls in her pussy but another part of her feared losing what we had together. It was impossible for her to hide the fact that she craved to feel a black cock in her because of the way she literally flowed with wetness at the thought and and how intensely she cum while fucking her large dildo thinking of a black man filling her so fully as I watched.

On a night early in January of 2003 while watching a porn of a white woman enjoying black cock in her ass and pussy simultaneously she became quite excited. Aroused even more than usual she began fucking herself with her dildo hard and deep, her chest visibly rising and falling with each hurried breath and her eyes locked to the screen intently. It was then that I asked her if she wanted to do that and her reply was, “Oh god yes, I need that so badly, I’m sorry honey but I do want that! I need a black dick to fuck me just once! Damn I’m so hot….ohhhhh I’m cumminggggggg”. And she began cumming so hard I thought she’d die before she stopped. The look in her eyes was like she knew her words were going to end our marriage but she couldn’t help herself. Her eyes pleaded with me to understand how she felt, to understand the intensity of the craving need she felt and how she couldn’t control herself when under the spell of her thoughts. At that time I couldn’t realize just how a black cock would free her of her inhibitions and turn my loving wife into a slut for black cock. All I knew was that for some reason my cock was throbbing so hard I felt it would burst at the knowledge that my wife not only wanted to fuck black dicks but even called it a need and the mere thought of it sent spasms of intense orgasms coursing through her. And when she saw me stroking my engorged cock and realized that instead of being hurt or mad I was excited at her admission she began orgasming even more intensely. I couldn’t stop myself if I had wanted to and began spewing my seed all over her upper body as she tensed.

It was at that moment I decided that I was going to see that her fantasy became real. The admission of her need seemed to ignite something in us both, something that had to be sated and could no longer be ignored. As we kissed after our orgasms I believe we both knew that we were closer after her admission than we had been before it. And I think it was then that she fully realized that it did turn me on to think of her with a black man between her thighs and that our relationship would never be threatened by it. Her birthday was coming up and I had decided that I really wanted to watch her with a black guy, not just fantasy about it but really watch as he pounded his cum deep inside her. I knew she would love it and I wanted to see her cumming her ass off for her birthday.

It was about then that I discovered a swingers site online and paid for a lifetime membership after seeing all the black cock profiles on the site. Inside me I knew that once she fucked a black cock she would want more and the site seemed to offer an unlimited supply. Soon I was talking to a guy from California online that was staying in our city for awhile. He had seen our profile with her pics on it that I had posted and he wanted to fuck her. He said he had almost a foot of extremely thick dick and could fuck all night.

I explained about her birthday coming up and that he was to be her present and I wanted someone that could fill her up and pound her for a few hours. I wanted her to be fucked really good by a big black cock while I taped and took pics of the occasion. I couldn’t even talk about it without my dick throbbing and hardening. I knew she didn’t believe that I really wanted her to do it down deep but I knew that it made me really hard thinking of her moaning and screaming while some big cocked black man was pressing his dick deep into her and making her love it.

So finally after talking for a few days I called the guy, Darnell, and we talked it over and I arranged for him to be in a motel room the night of her birthday that adjoined our room. I had told her we were going dancing and then to a motel for some fun without the kids being there so she could just let loose.

The night came off without a hitch and soon she said she was ready to go to the room so we drove to the motel. We were entering the room when just inside the door she stopped, looked around, looked in the bathroom and kind of disappointedly said, “I thought for some reason that you were going to have somebody else here tonight”. I said, “No, this is for us to enjoy all alone, are you disappointed that I didn’t”? She replied, “No, I was really nervous cause I didn’t know if I could go through with anything, but as many drinks as I’ve had it WAS sounding better to me though. “Oh well”, I said as I took her in my arms and kissed her. She just melted against me and her tongue was soon entangled with mine and her hands were undoing my pants eagerly and I could tell how much she wanted to be fucked. I helped her undress and took my clothes off as she lay down on the bed.

After removing my clothes I smiled at her and said, ”I want this to be something different” and began pulling a suitcase from beneath the bed that I had placed there earlier that day. I removed some restraints and a blindfold and said, “Remember you saying you’d like to be blindfolded and tied up and teased, well honey, guess what?” Her only reply was to lay spread-eagled on the bed and say, “Oboy”, with a big smile on her face. I tied her wrists to the headboard and then I tied each leg at her knees to the headboard also, leaving her with her knees bent and pulled somewhat to her chest, her thighs spread and open and then placed the blindfold on her and made sure she couldn’t see down under it at all.

I began kissing along her soft inner thighs, licking and tasting her, biting her softly all around her mound until her hips started writhing and then I said, “I think you need a little vibration dear” and I got up and went to the adjoining door and quietly opened it before getting the vibrator from the bag and returning to her. I played around with her until she was moaning, rubbing her clit softly with the vibrator, licking her gently until she was begging to be fucked and then I said, “No, I think I’ll let you lay there while I beat off and watch you while you beg me to make you cum. I then arose and Darnell and I stood there watching her writhe and moan. I could see by the way Darnell was absent mindedly stroking his black dick that he wanted my wife’s pussy!

My heart was pounding. Here I stood with a nude black man looking at my bound, nude wife of 18 yrs as she begged to be fucked. I felt very anxious, nervous and my cock was aching and throbbing as I ran my hand along it. My glance dropped to his cock and I was awed, I couldn’t take my eyes from it, he was huge and thick and it wasn’t even all the way hard yet. I knew right then she was going to love him and thoughts entered my mind about if she would still love me after being fucked by his cock. I wanted to say “No! I can’t go through with this”, I loved my wife and I really feared losing her to him if she ever felt his cock inside her. Something inside me told me she was going to love this fucking and never forget this night.

The sight of his cock, the sheer size of it had me mesmerized and I knew deep inside me I had to allow him to fuck her, I couldn’t spend the rest of my life wondering how it might have been and I motioned for him to proceed. My heart was heavy as I watched him lay between her opened thighs. I watched as he lowered his face to her pussy, the first man to touch her since before we married, his blackness contrasting so much against her white skin and my cock hardened even more. He began licking her clit, tonguing her pussy, taking her to the brink of orgasm and then stopping, kissing her breasts, licking her nipples as she pulled at her restraints, wanting to grasp his head and pull him to her need but unable to, all she could do was moan and beg to be fucked. Her chest was rising and falling quickly with her hurried breathing, her hips rolling in circles, hunching, thighs trying to close on his head as her arousement soared to new higher heights of despair, moaning, pleading for him to make her cum while thinking it was me. My cock was oozing precum as I smeared it over my glans, already wanting to cum but holding back because of the pleasure I felt.

He sucked at her clit a minute causing her to beg and plead for me to fuck her hard and then he rose to his knees and with a glance at me for a final approval and my wife’s juices gleaming on his ebony face around his toothy grin he began running his cockhead along her slit, smearing her profuse wetness over his glans before positioning it at her entrance and starting to press into her. OH GOD!, she screamed, It feels so big like this, oh damn, oh damn, it hurts, IT HURTS, DON’T, DON’T STOP, OH DAMN I LOVE IT! as he pushed deeper into her. Soon he was fucking In and out of her pussy shallowly, smoothly as she screamed her pleasure, body hunching up to his thrusts, pressing into his cockhead. I had never seen her craving a cock so much as she begged for him to “Give it to me, ALL OF IT, HARD! HARDER!!” “Oh god it’s never felt this good before…I feel so full!!” “OH BABY you feel bigger than my dildo even…fuckme…FUCKME!…DON’T STOP…PLEASE FUCKIT HARD…..AAAIIEEEEEEEE.CUMMINGGGGGG”

My cock jerked around and throbbed, begging for release as I watched her reaction to his huge cock. I wanted her to know she was fucking a black man, that she actually had a huge black cock filling her. It was important to me for her to know she was cumming on his dick so it was then, as she was begging for more cock and cumming hard that I rose and removed the blindfold and she saw him between her thighs, “No, No”, she yelled, “oh god no”, and she had a look in her eyes as she looked up at me like she couldn’t believe I was allowing this but her body still tensed, hips hunching sporadically, tensing harder than I’d ever seen her cum before. I could see a look of betrayal in her eyes and hear her pleas for me to stop him, but I couldn’t say a word as I watched him stroking deeper and deeper into her. Then her eyes closed and a low carnally passionate moan escaped her lips and I could tell she loved the sensations his huge cock was imparting to her body. I could see her resolve and inhibitions slowly waning as he thrust more and more of his steel hard dick into her pussy.

My dick had never been harder or I more excited than at that moment. My cock jerked as I watched him stretch and spread her, opening her deeper and wider than any man ever had as her moans filled my ears and I knew she was loving the sensations she felt.. I knew it was a moan of awed pleasure at his stretching her open but her quick exhaling of breath as he thrust deep into her, scared him and he started to back away. Quickly she screamed, “No,No, don’t stop!” Even now she was under the influence of his cock as she stared down at his black hugeness between her thighs and immediately begged him not to stop, saying, “Oh damn don’t stop, I love it”, “Fuck me!”. Her words brought an even quicker reaction as she realized she was begging a black man to fuck her with me standing right there. She quickly glanced at my face, a look of guilt etched on her own, and started to mouth an apology to me but his quick thrust into her pussy snapped her head forward and riveted her attention on her mound.

Soon, as her hips hunched up into his big cock her look was as if she was begging my forgiveness for the way she couldn’t help but enjoy his fucking her.. I could tell she was totally absorbed in the feelings he was causing inside her, her hips hunched feverishly as she pulled at her restraints, her eyes on his body, his black body as she lifted her head to look down at his cock, of which he still had almost half left to fuck into her. Seeing his huge dick while feeling him fucking her seemed to just ignite her fires and she closed her eyes and began saying, “Yes! Yes! Fuck me, Fuck me with that big black dick…aarrrghhhhgoddddd”.

She screamed as he began to fill her with his thick meat, her eyes were open wide in amazement as he continued to fuck his pole deeper and deeper into her until she began cumming again, her whole body shook and trembled, her head tossed around wildly and she kept begging him not to stop, not ever to stop, to fuck her harder, faster, “don’t stop, PLEASE don’t stop she pleaded”. At one point she screamed she’d never felt a dick so big and good as his was, and then as if remembering I was there her eyes found mine and silently screamed for forgiveness but the next second he thrust hard into her and while looking straight into my eyes she said “Oh damn fuck me, I love your dick, oh god I want to feel it all, fuck me, please, don’t ever stop, fuck meforeveriiieeeeeooouuuuuaaarrrggghhhhhOOOHHHHHHGGODDDD”

I walked over and untied one hand and placed my cock in it and she looked up at me and I smiled to let her know I understood and she began cumming harder, even more intensely as he fucked her hard and deeply, pounding his cock into her, the sound of his body meeting hers making a slapping sound as he stretched her pussy and she begged him to hurt her to fuck her pussy harder, even harder, her cumming intensifying till she screamed, “OH GOD I CAN”T STOP!….. OH GOD I LOVE IT!….. DON”T STOP!……. PLEASE DON”T STOP…DAMN BABY HIS DICK IS SOOO MUCH BIGGER THAN YOURS!!” and let go of me to grasp him. I untied all her restraints and she seemed to melt into him her hips hunching hard into his most fierce thrusts, her thighs over his, pulling herself up to his cock as he fucked her.

At first you could tell she had inhibitions about touching him. Her thighs pulled him in tightly but every time she started to grasp his body, her hands would falter in the air, closing into white knuckled fists before gripping the sheets tightly as she hunched forcefully into his deep thrusts. Soon, as he pressed his stiff dick into her pussy in one hard continuous grinding, her inhibitions to touching him fled. Her body trembled and shook avidly and her moans sounded anguished as he bgan hunching hard, harder into her deepest resistance. After a few more trembling orgasms her hands reached down and clasped his ass cheeks tightly, pulling him into her, begging him to fuck her, to cum in her pussy; crying out how she wanted to feel him cum in her pussy. I remember seeing her white hand against his dark asscheek, fingers digging deeply into his skin and her wedding rings shining brightly, my wife’s rings, given to a woman that vowed to love only me. And now that same woman is begging a black man to spew his hot seed deeply into her body as I watch, me having to masturbate, as his black cock is clasped tightly by my wife’s flooding, wildly hunching pussy..

Lifting up he rolled her over and placed her on her hands and knees and placed his cock at her entrance as she pushed back into him begging, “put it back, fuck me, don’t stop, give it to me”, begging for his dick like she’d never begged me before and for some reason it made me so hot knowing how into his fucking she was, my own cock throbbed and I stroked it as I realized that she craved his dick, she didn’t ever want him to take it from her. Right then he rammed his cock into her pussy like a spear, thrust it in to his nuts in one hard thrust and she screamed, her head shot up, her mouth was open but no sound came forth, her eyes were open wide, awed at his hugeness and excruciating pain etched on her face. But, when her breath returned she reached back and began pulling him into her crying “YES, OH DAMN YES, DO IT….FUCK….IT…..HURT…HURT….OH BABY FUCK IT HARD, HURT ME, I’M CUMMMIIINNNNGGGGGG Oh damn……it just don’t stop……better…and better……oohhhhaaarrgghhIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE” and she began pushing and pulling her pussy along his cock, fucking him hard; ramming back onto his gargantuan length of meat as he just held it there.

I swear it was as if she was possessed, unable to comprehend any thought while under the spell of the intense pleasure flooding her mind and encapsulating her body. With each rearward thrust of her hips a look of intense pain grimaced her face. Pressing into his glans caused loud gasps to escape her lips but she couldn’t stop stretching her pussy with his gargantuan length. She craved his cum pushing him to her depths painfully as she reveled in the burning pleasure his throbbing glans presented her. His hard hunching as she held her pussy to him had her begging him to cum in her there; moaning her delight as he said, “Not until you have all dis black dick in dat pussy slut”! She put her hands against the headboard and pushed hard into him. I could tell she loved the feeling as her walls clutched him and slid along his thick shaft by the passionate grunts and moans that accompanied each of her rear thrusting motions.

The sight of his cock fucking her was so very exciting to me. Her pussy gripped his fat girth as she fucked it, distending her pussy, filling her as no man ever had in her life. The way her vulva was reduced to a thin red line that gripped him tightly as she withdrew him was evidence of his thick girth. Her loud moans expressed the obvious pleasure she felt as she stretched her pussy painfully. Each forceful thrust back into his stiffened dick caused him to penetrate her deeply, evoking loud animalistic grunts and moans to escape her lips. His fat dick caressing each inch of moist swollen flesh within her had her lost to the sensations flooding her mind and body. Seeing the woman I love expressing so much love for what he gave her, not only by her actions but with her words as she fucked him uncontrollably; filled me with emotions and doubts of my causing her this pleasure. She had never clenched my dick as she did his with her pussy, obviously feeling him, squeezing his girth and moaning at the fullness she felt pressuring her walls. Her excitement drove my own as I grabbed her hair and pulled her to her hands and knees and positioned myself so I could fuck her mouth while he rammed to his balls in her pussy.

My actions caused the flames within her to flare even hotter and she began sucking my cock frenziedly, like she wanted to eat my cum. She sucked me like she’d never in 18 years sucked me. Her mouth flew up and down my knob and pushed me into her throat as her moans expressed her excitement. My cock was in her throat when she started cumming, screaming, her words bubbling around my dick, choking her as he began fucking her hard and fast and I knew she was feeling him swell in preparation to cumming. I fucked her a few more strokes and shot my load- onto her tongue as she greedily sucked me. My legs seemed to give out as she sucked me, bending me at the waist the thrills she gave me were so intense and she was still tensing. Seeing him fucking his black dick into her so fiercely had my balls pumping load after load into her moaning mouth. When he rammed into her so hard he lifted her ass up and her knees left the bed she jerked from me and screamed, “DOIT OH GOD CUMBABY I FEEL IT YES! YES!” and she pressed back into him for a second and then her eyes got wide and she looked like she was being tortured and she screamed out stutteringly “TOO MUCH!….. OH NO, OH….GOD…. IT… HURTS, YES, YES DON’T STOP, FILL IT…FILL IT BABY….I FEEL IT….SOOO HOT OOOHHHHHH” and then her body began shaking, an uncontrollable trembling that coursed through her whole being as each hard thrust to her depths intensified the pleasure that gripped her entirely.

I thought he’d take a break but instead he began fucking her fast and hard while his dick was swollen from cumming and she went crazy. He grabbed her by the hair and held her as he fucked her, bottomed his cock in her pussy and just hunched hard into her, pounding her clit with his ballsac as he hunched and she couldn’t stop cumming, her head was floundering in his grasp her eyes on me as her body shook with delight as she came over and over. He grasped her by her shoulders and really began fucking her in long hard strokes then and she moaned aloud, “oh damn Jack, thank you baby thank you for letting me fuck him, oh god baby I love his dick I love black cock baby, god he’s so big, I’m so full baby, oh no, oh god, I can’t stop cumming on his dick baby.” I then went over beside her and said, “It makes me want to cum every time you push your pussy back on his dick honey”! She just looked me in the eyes and I could see the heat boiling inside her as her hips began ramming back into his thrusts, hunching and fucking him even harder than before, My cum still dripped from her chin but she didn’t care, all she seemed to care about was feeling his cock fucking her.

He’d fuck her smoothly for awhile and she would moan and hunch with him, Soon as he took long fast strokes from his tip to his balls you could see the fires beginning to burn in her and she’d moan loudly and begin pushing back into him fast and hard, matching him thrust for thrust. Her hands clenched the covers as she pressed against them to apply more pressure to his cock and she started cumming with a look on her face like she was dying it was so intense. It was at these times my dick throbbed, jerked and I knew if I moved my hand on it I would cum immediately. Why does hearing my wife, my soulmate pleading for another man’s cum excite me so intensely I wondered as she continued to beg him not to stop, to fuck her harder, to cum in her white pussy! When he held her hips and pulled her into his pounding she’d scream at the top of her lungs and just go crazy fucking back into him as he smacked her ass and commanded her to “fuck dat dick! Don’t you stop slut, fuck dat dick good!” and his words seemed to drive her into a crazed frenzy.

The craving she felt for his cock seemed to instill a need to please him in any way possible. She seemed driven to obey him and fuck his big cock, to give him the same pleasure he gave her. She’d drive back onto him until she cum so intensely she couldn’t move, just press back into him as he hunched hard into her spasming pussy. Her hands flailed wildly as she tried to escape his punishing thrusts until he pressed fully into her pussy and ground his cock into her forcefully and then she’d reach back and grab his thigh and pull at him, her body shaking violently, Her screams became high in frequency, unable to voice a word just a jumbled mouthing of sounds, moans and YES!, oh god YES! He pushed her down on the bed and straddled her thighs, his dick still embedded deeply in her swollen wet flesh as her hips rotate, hunching up into his impaling meat. I watched him pound his long cock deep inside her as her head flailed wildly. Her back arched as she presented her pussy for his pleasure. She held her pussy to his most hurtful thrusts even as tears began flowing down her cheeks; but still she begged him not to stop, to fuck her hard with his big black dick!

He glanced at me and said, “Damn Jack, look at ya slut man. I ain’t never seen no married woman fuck a nigga dick like she is, especially with you standing right there. She drowning dis dick with wifely cum man.” And then to her, “Yeah baby you fuck dat dick, show your man how much you need dis nigga cum in his slut’s pussy; dat’s right you my wife now and his slut, I own dis pussy. Tell Jack who’s pussy dis is baby, tell him dis is black owned pussy now! I could see the distress showing in her eyes as the inner turmoil of saying something she thought would hurt me conflicted with the truth as she felt it as he continued his punishing assault on her senses. Instead she moaned and cried out how long she had craved to be fucked like this, how she’d never felt anything so wonderful as his cock did! “Dat ain’t what I tole ya to say woman” he admonished her as he became motionless. “I tole ya to tell him who’s pussy dis is, your MY wife now cause iff’n you ain’t I gotta leave cause I shouldn’t be fuckin no man’s wife wit dis big dick!” I watched as her ass increased its hunching, rolling and heard her pleading for him to fuck her, not to stop. I heard the need in her voice, desperate for him to continue, as she stared deep in my eyes as she tried to communicate her plight, looking for some glimmer of understanding as she knew what she had to do even though she chanced losing my love. No, no, please don’t make me she moaned in a last attempt to get him to relent. He began withdrawing his cock and her gaze darted to me quickly as she blurted out, Its yours, my pussy is yours, FUCK ME! PLEASE FUCK ME! Fuck your pussy baby, fuck it hard, hurt it, show Jack how I need it! Don’t stop, PEASE don’t stop!

He did, I could tell by his smile as he fucked her while gazing at me that he knew she was his; his cock was her world now and I couldn’t interfere with her pleasure. My heart felt heavy with a trepidation of how this act was going to affect our lives, our love for each other. He fucked her with a vengeance driving his dick into her pussy deep and hard her hands flailing, knees bent, ankles pushing up against his ass. Her fingers gripped the edge of the bed, knuckles white she was gripping so hard as he punished her pussy but she loved it, begged him not to ever stop, pleaded with him to give her all of it, to ram it in her hard, begged him to hurt her pussy, to fuck her forever. He’d fuck her till she was cumming and then ask her who’s pussy it was and when she didn’t answer and turned her head to look at me almost in tears, her eyes begging me to understand, he began fucking her as hard as he could and asked again, “who’s pussy is it” she could only look me in the eyes and say “YOURS, OH GOD MY PUSSY’S YOURS FUCK IT, FUCK ME, PLEASE DON’T STOP, FUCK YOUR PUSSY BABY!! And she’d push her ass up so hard she’d lift him off the bed while he pummeled her deep and hard, her fists clenching the sheets and a look on her face like she would die if it didn’t stop.

Then her eyes would grow wide and she’d push with her hands, holding herself while he pressed into her and she’d be moaning, “yes, do it, cum in your pussy baby, I want your dick to cum, oh god yes, YES, oh damn and her hand slapped back against his thigh and she shrieked as he drove his cum deep inside her, groaning, telling her to, “ fuck my dick slut, milk it, that’s it, your man don’t cum like this does he?” and she screamed, “NO, NO!, he’s never fucked me this good, I love you fucking my pussy, cum baby that’s it don’t stop, give me all of it baby, ohhhhhhhhh damnnnnnn I lovEEEEEEITTT” and her hands were being held up in front of her and her thighs were squeezed together tight on his cock, her mouth open, eyes wide open and trembling all over as he lifted her hips with his hands and drove into her deeply, fucking her like a rag doll, pulling her pussy to and fro on his dick as he fucked her harder than I’ve ever seen anyone fucked.

Seeing his muscular body moving, his cock huge with his arousement, stiff and threatening as he withdrew to the tip and then ramming it back in her to his nuts had my breathing hurried, deep, as her moans and gasps told of her love of what he gave her. He would impale her forcefully, penetrating her body to a depth never felt by her before, stretching her pussy while grinding it in deep. He hunched hard as he held her to it, fucking her mind as well as her body as she felt the power in his grip. She knew the meaning of manhood as he used her violently, deeply. She loved it so much she just hung there, her ass off the bed, not kneeling but being held up by his cock and his hands, as he pummeled her roughly. The look on her face could only be described as pure unadulterated bliss.

Both her hands were held back on his hands, holding them as he held her hips, her face turned sideways on the bed and she just submitted to his desires, just lay there cumming over and over as he continued to fuck her until he flipped her on her back and began eating her pussy until her ass rose from the bed, cumming so hard she just shook and shook, moaning, “oh god, oh god, no more, no more” and he put a finger in her ass and she began cumming again as he sucked her clit hard, both hands holding his head as she cum for what seemed five minutes until she flung her upper body to the sheets and he again placed his still hard cock in her pussy again. His cockhead was as big as an orange, a big orange, and his shaft was almost as thick and just watching it disappear into her pussy, hearing the love and satisfaction in her moans as he pushed ever deeper, seeing her body moving of it’s own volition, her unable to restrain herself, her inhibitions totally gone as she fucked up into his thrusts, her heels pulling her up to his thrusts, both their bodies moving in unison, fucking as if they had been lovers for years. Her arms reached up to him, pulling him down onto her and then, her submission complete, her lips find his and she kisses him deeply. Her hips move quicker as her actions dawn in her mind and she realizes she is doing something she had always said she couldn’t, and he fucked her, fucked her deeply as they kissed. It felt as if her pleasure was permeating my own body, filling me with a passion, a newfound realization of how deeply I was affected by her love of fucking this man. Her moans welled in her throat, muffled by their tongues entwining as she felt him pressed deeply into her. Her hands squeezed his body, nails digging into his skin as the intensity of her orgasm continuously increased until her hands were on her ankles pulling his ass into her as her heels were placed on each of his asscheeks, as she strained to feel each wonderful inch of his rock hard cock forced into her.

It was incredibly hot seeing the hunger his cock instilled in her, hearing the desperation in her moans as she sought to entice his dick to spew hotly within her. I stroked my dick quickly as spasms raced through her, causing her body to tremble as he increased the speed and force of his thrusting until she was screaming for him to fuck her. Her voice filled with incredulous awe as he continued to fuck her, begging him to fuck her everyday, forever, telling him her pussy was his whenever he wanted it, to just call, that she’d do anything he wanted her to.

And when he said he might make her fuck all his friends, that he’d let them gang-bang her she just seemed to ignite, begging him to fuck her hard, getting hotter and hotter with each of his words, hunching her pussy into his dick while saying, “yes, yes, I’ll fuck them all baby, anything, just fuck me, fuck me, make me cum, please make me cum on your big dick…….oh god yes make me fuck them all baby…make me suck the cum out of their cocks while Jack watches…….fuck me baby….fuck me while Jack watches me cum on your big dick….oh damn yeah….I like cumming on your dick while Jack sees me….I love it…oh god I’m cumming…fuck me, do it…DO IT!…Oh Jack….watch me baby watch me cum on his big dick …..aaaaaeeeeiiiiiiioouuuu…….oh damn I’m glad you got him to fuck me…aarrrrggghhhhhhhhaaaargggghhhgodddddd.he’s so damned good….god I’m sorry Jack but I’ve never cum this good before….I love his dick baby….watch me baby..ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhshitttttttttttttttt…you were right Jack…..I love Black cock….YES I LOVE HIS COCK LOVE IT do it! do it! oh damn baby it just keeps gettin better and bigger and bigger YES, YES, CUM OH GOD BABY I LOVE HIM TO CUM IN MY PUSSY, oh damn, oh damn, yessssssiiiieieeeeeeee! She grabbed the headboard as his ass pushed forward and I knew by the look on her face that he was swollen huge inside her as he forced it all as deep as possible to unload- his scalding jism right where she begged him to. I could see the various stages of pain, awe, and wonderful pleasure etched on her face as she cum. It amazed me how she could absorb the jarring force he exerted when he rammed his swollen stiff dick sporadically into her gripping pussy. As each forceful expulsion of his scalding cum jets from his tip she moans passionately; hips rolling, hunching against his tip as she feels his lava like cum spreading its heat through her pussy. Her face was veiled with a passionate look that I knew was caused by the love of each hot spewing within her, a veritable flood of pleasure that of itself would addict any woman to its feel. That feeling instills a frenzied excitement that causes an insanity in her mind and a deep satisfaction in her soul. She told me later she’d never felt so womanly as when she coerced his fat cock to spew in her pussy.

Suddenly he withdraws from her pussy and rises to straddle her waist. Placing his swollen huge glans at her mouth he orders her to suck it and she greedily takes his cum covered glans into her wide-open mouth. I was shocked as she always made me wipe it off first. Her head twisted and worked on his cock-head as if she wanted to devour it, as if she adored it, it was her god. Her eyes kept glancing up at his face as if to ascertain she was pleasing him. Then he pushed her head against the headboard and began fucking her mouth as she choked and gasped. His hand entwined in her hair as he fucked in and out of her mouth. I could see her arousement soaring as he used her, fucking her as he would a common slut with no concern for her needs or desires. I remembered her telling me of her fantasy of a black man forcing her to suck his dick and cumming in her mouth and knew she was living that in her mind. He forcefully fucked her mouth and as an acknowledgement of my thoughts she loved it, sucked at his cock, choked, tried to move her head up and down but he controlled her movements as he fucked her.

My cock was as hard as a rock at the sight of him using my wife, my soulmate, as his fuck slut and seeing her so eagerly trying to please him was for some reason so damn hot to me. His long cock so hugely thick and black fucking into her white face, tears in her eyes but still mouthing his cock, her moans very evident as she mumbled them around his swollen dick and her arousement evidenced by her hand swiftly rolling her clit, fingers probing her now splayed pussy, coating them with her juices. And when she would grab his cock with her moist hand he’d tell her to suck that pussy juice off his dick and she’d lick and suck all over his shaft and balls very energetically until he’d begin fucking her mouth again. And when finally he cum again he ordered her to open her mouth and he shot a tremendous load- onto her tongue and then forced his cockhead into her throat and ordered her to suck it and I blew a nut right then cause she has never been able to swallow cum, it made her sick and this was the second time she did it. Seeing his cum leaking out of her mouth as he fucked it and knowing he was shooting more cum into her and she was greedily sucking and swallowing as much as possible had my cock erupting over and over and when her eyes fell on me and saw me cumming she jerked her head away and screamed,”FUCK ME! FUCK ME NOW!”

He smiled and looked at me to see my reaction to the way he had fucked my wife’s face and the way she had greedily ate his jism as he dropped down and rammed his dick in her and began fucking her hard and fast saying,”Your slut and my wife is a true black cock slut now Jack, you know that don’t you fella? Look how she loves the way my dick makes her cum!” Her eyes never left me and my dick was still feeling good and I just continued to stroke it, moved closer to her so she could watch and then placed her hand on my cum coated rod and she began cumming, going really crazy on his dick, demanding him to fuck her as hard as he could and he did, every stroke of his dick moved her whole body, lifted her, and she cum intensely for what seemed forever until she raised up and began sucking me, I mean sucking hard on my dick while her moans bubbled up from her lungs and he continued to fuck her hard. She squeezed me hard so as not to lose her grasp on me as he fucked her and used her tongue and soon I was so hot I felt more cum shooting up my shaft as she actually sucked it from me. My hands found her head and I began fucking her mouth as he had and she screamed around my cock and both her hands grasped his body and she began hunching into his dick as I fucked her mouth and I believe she had the best cum of her life right then as we fucked both ends of her forcibly.

Drained I let loose of her head and she licked the cum from her lips and it seemed to cause her pussy to thrill or something because she pulled him down and kissed him with our cum smeared on her face, he resisted at first but when she forcefully pulled herself up to his face and kissed him he seemed to relent and kissed her and soon he was hammering his cum into her again as she gazed at me and I could tell that she was blackened for life by the way she pulled him to her as he cum and tensed herself as the first of his eruptions was felt deep in her sloppy pussy. But something in the way she looked at me, her eyes conveyed so much love for me, and even though she was cumming better than I could ever make her on a dick bigger than I would ever have I knew for positive that we were still soul mates. How could I compete with this bull stud of a man? He has fucked her for hours, cum more times than I can count and his dick is still hard and swollen as he fucks her through her umpteenth orgasm!

They took a short break, which meant he stopped fucking her and she mouthed his dick as he and I conversed. She couldn’t get enough of his dick, couldn’t leave it alone and watching her, the way she sucked at his dick made my cock unbelievably harden and throb. He lay there as she mounted him and began fucking his cock. I watched my slut, the mother of my children work her pussy on his cock as we talked. She fucked her pussy up and down his dick feverishly. I watched his meaty rod appearing and disappearing as she rose and fell on it, her moans getting quicker and louder as she drove him in her pussy to his balls. How could seeing her, supposedly my wife, so avidly craving his black dick excite me so much I wondered? But seeing her hunching wildly down into his cock, unaware and uncaring if I was even there, using his dick like a big dildo to make herself cum over and over as he continued to speak with me had me near cumming. My own dick, not graced by her swollen wet walls was becoming sore from my continual stroking of it. My wife, or to be truthful his wife, was literally unable to control her need to cum on his dick with or without his help.

I’d never seen a woman crave a dick like my loving wife craved his. She seemed oblivious to anything but his cock as she hunched her clit against his body and cum so hard her thighs straightened beside him. And when he slapped her ass hard making a loud slapping sound resound through the room and ordered her, “Make dat dick cum slut”, she began furiously fucking his dick as she cum, her screams and moans now filled with desperate need. He then looked at me and said, Jack your slut loves my dick, watch her fuck it man, she can’t stop cumming on it, damn her pussy feels so tight on my dick. You ever see her crave your dick like this, man your white slut is a black man’s cum dump now, you know that don’t you!” I knew he was right as I watched her hunching furiously into his dick, her hips grinding into it hard every time he’d slap her ass and say, “cum on my dick, let your white man see how much you love my big black dick” and she would, her hips would begin lifting and slamming back down on his dick, she’d lift till just his tip was in her pussy and then ram back to his balls as her head shook side to side and she screamed her pleasure as she hurt her pussy with his dick until she was cumming hard, grinding into him as she cum repeatedly, unable to stop fucking his black dick! Tell Jack here how often you need some black cock Connie, tell him baby! Oh God I want it every second, I could never get enough of this. Damn I never dreamed a dick could make me feel like this. I want you to move in with us and fuck me every day, all day. Have your friends come over and fuck me, your Black friends. You don’t care do you Jack, he can fuck me in our bed can’t he baby? He can be my sex husband and you can do the rest…..ohhh god I’m cummin…..cummin….want all those big black dicks cummin in me….aaaiiiiEEEEEEEEEEE!!

He continued to fuck her for another two and a half hours and she enjoyed every second as much as the first moment he entered her. I’ve never seen her crave a man’s cock like she did his. That’s the only way to say it, she craved it, wanted it in her pussy every second, wanted to feel her pussy cumming on it forever and would do anything it took to accomplish that end. He would crawl off her and talk to me for a few seconds and she’d be sucking his cock until he had to fuck her again or he’d roll off and lay on his back while taking a drink of water and she’d climb on top of him and begin fucking him and make herself cum on his cock maybe two or three times before he’d put a hand on her and really fuck her again. She begged him to stay and fuck her all night but he had to be at work at six so around 12:00 midnight we finally split up. As I loaded our car she kissed him good-by lingeringly and deeply in the parking lot and didn’t care who saw her do it. As we got in the car to go home to the kids I said “Happy Birthday Honey” and she snuggled up against me and said “Thats the best B’day present you ever gave me, I can’t wait for Valentine’s Day, and Mother’s Day, and Christmas and maybe even Father’s Day and your B’day too!!” “ I think I’ve created a black cock slut” I said while smiling. Her only reply was “YEP, I really loved it, now I’m mad you waited 18 years to let me have it” Women!!! Her girl friends at work the next day told her she was walking like something was wrong and she had a freshly fucked smile on her face and wanted to know what she’d been doing. Laughing, all she’d say was that, “Jack took me to a motel last night”. Our sex for the next couple of weeks was hot as we both recalled every second of his domination of her and to an extent myself! She’d have fucked him at anytime if he called and asked, anywhere I believe, even in public, she was so captivated by his cock. I told her that and she’d only smile and say, “Yeah I really love his dick.” Sadly a week later he moved to CA.

Now I stand here again for the umpteenth time as another black stud uses my wife for his cum dump, filling her with his hot seed as she claws and screams her pleasure at feeling his thick mass stretching and caressing her tightly stretched walls as he unloads before allowing her mouth to enclose him, suck him hard again so that she can ride his dick to many more intense orgasms while I watch. And my dick still hardens with each of her loud moans and the hard upwards ramming of her hips into their hardest thrusts as she seeks to elicit their hot cum to flow into her willing receptacle for black man’s seed. Now she quite frankly tells me of her craving NEED to have black men fuck her as often as possible and I never see that apologetic look in her eyes anymore as she screams how much she loves their cocks and how much better they fuck her than I do. And over the years she has learned to ride those stallion size cocks in a manner that elicits maximum pleasure from them and she cums almost continuously. And she is perfectly willing now to express her need for hard black cock to them also, begging them to fuck her deeply and to hurt her pussy, daring them to try and make her say “uncle” while battering her pussy mercilessly until she is reduced to a spasming mass of orgiastic flesh, tensed and clinging to them as she pleads for more, begging them not to stop until she exhausts them and they leave till another day. And her only reply is “NEXT”. My wife the Black Cock Slut!!! And I love her still…lol.

The post My wife’s Black Addiction appeared first on sexstories.org.

I found an anonymous chat room a few months ago. Some chat rooms were about hookups, and I chatted with a few women just for fun. I didn’t meet up with any of them since my sex life with Laura was excellent. Then I found a swingers chat room. I had talked with Laura about swinging. She didn’t like the idea of having sex with random men, but she didn’t drop the discussion right away and seemed somewhat open to the idea.

We’d discussed having me watch her with one of my friends, Albert, but that didn’t work out. I couldn’t figure out how to broach the subject with him, and Laura didn’t want to come on to him. Talking about it was a turn on though, and we’d revisited that discussion several times as one of our shared fantasies. After seven years together, we tried to keep our intimate life exciting and were pretty creative about sex.

I frequently had a fantasy of watching Laura with another man. I didn’t have any interest in having sex with another woman. I was totally absorbed with her.

In the swingers chat room, it didn’t take long to find a single straight man nearby. I asked Roy what kind of experiences interested him. He said that, in addition to swinger parties, he’d done threesomes, foursomes, some encounters in the parks, and several meetups with married women looking for some spice. We got fairly far into a discussion about him having sex with my wife. I didn’t tell Laura that I’d had the discussion with Roy. Having a real person made the fantasy a lot different. Putting even a name to the idea made me uncertain that I wanted anything other than a fantasy. But the chat kept coming back to me over the next week.

Laura and I were having a quiet dinner. We were trying a month of eating with no TV in hopes it would get us closer. She was wearing a white blouse and navy skirt. She’d unbuttoned the top buttons of her blouse when she walked in the door. She saw me looking at the top of her breasts that her uplift bra created the perfect smooth curve. It looked like we’d probably go from dinner to the bedroom.

“I found a chat room for swingers,” I said.

“You know those swinger events don’t turn me on,” she said.

“I know. You can also connect with couples or singles,” I said.

She gave me a side look. I couldn’t tell if she was interested or upset that I was exploring my fantasy again. “Well?”

I found this fellow, Roy. He’s been in several threesomes. We chatted about what one would be like.

“And?”

“I thought we could meet him for diner someplace. That wouldn’t be a commitment to do anything. If we were comfortable with him, we could talk about what we wanted to do. He lives about two hours away. We could meet somewhere in between.”

“So we’d meet up and then pop into a motel for a quick one?”

“No, I thought we could meet up and then we’d talk about it. I don’t think he’s anxious to push us into anything. He knows that this would be our first time. Even if you didn’t want to go with him, it would probably make us both hot.”

“You really want to watch me with another man? You keep bringing it up. You know these things never turn out like your fantasy.”

“I know. Once I had someone’s name to put into the fantasy, it changed things.”

She looked like she was thinking. “I guess we could meet him. That might be exciting. As long as we don’t have to go ahead.”

I made an appointment with Roy for the next Friday at a quiet restaurant about halfway between our place and the little town in the foothills where he lived.

Laura and I arrived fifteen minutes early and ordered glasses of wine. Right on time, the hostess showed a tall man a few years older than me to our table. I shook hands with him. Laura looked down at her empty plate and said hello.

Roy had dark brown hair with a few streaks of gray. He was well dressed in fashionable casual clothes and brown loafers. He had a ready smile that was disarming.

After placing our orders, we talked about the traffic and the weather. Laura didn’t say much, but I could see that she was studying him.”

“If we did this, how would you see it working,” I said.

Roy looked at Laura. “Well, for one thing I should tell you that I think Laura is beautiful. I would love to explore pleasures with you.”

Laura looked up at him. Her cheeks were red, and even her forehead flushed pink.

“You know that we haven’t done anything like this before,” I said.

“We can take it easy,” he said. “We meet up, and you can stop anytime.”

The salads and Roy’s glass of wine arrived. Laura ordered a second glass of wine.

“So if I didn’t get comfortable, we’d just stop,” she said.

“I can’t make you do anything you don’t want to,” he said. “But if you are afraid that I’d try to coerce you, you should know that I have regular partners and no desire to do anything other than pursuing pleasure.”

I had to admit that he was persuasive. He seemed almost normal.

Roy excused himself to go to the restroom. I suspect he wanted to give Laura and me a chance to talk.

“What do you think?” I asked.

“I like him,” she said.

“Does that mean you’d like to try a session?”

She looked down at her plate. Then she met my eyes and held my gaze for several minutes.

“I guess so,” she said.

Her answer was more than a surprise. I’d expected she might say that we could talk about it, but I wouldn’t have been surprised for her to say no. For her to decide now that we could go ahead meant that I had to be completely wrong about what she was thinking. I was so excited that I thought my hands would shake.

Roy returned at the same time as the waiter delivered our entrees. We ate in silence, but there was a question suspended in the air. Roy had to know that we’d discussed him, but he waited.

Laura and I had checked into a local hotel. I figured that, regardless of the outcome, we could spend the night there and drive back in the morning. I figured we’d talk about what she thought about Roy and maybe she’d agree to have a session with him at another time.

Roy finished his meal and sat back. He glanced at me and turned to Laura. “What do you guys think?”

I was about to answer him when she spoke, “We’d like to try it out.”

“I think you’ll have a good time,” he said.

The shape of the conversation had changed. Until she spoke, the conversation had been between Roy and me. Now, I was sitting on the sideline, and the two of them were discussing having sex with each other.

I told Roy that we had a hotel room nearby and gave him the room number. I asked him to wait a few minutes and then join us. Laura looked surprised. I wondered if she had wanted a session at a later date.

In the car on the way to the hotel, I asked, “Didn’t you want to go ahead tonight?”

“I thought I did, but when you set it up, I realized that this wasn’t just one of our fantasies.”

“You surprised me when you said you wanted to go ahead,” I said.

“The more we talked about it, the more exciting it seemed.”

“I think I surprised myself. But either of us can say stop at any time.”

When we got to our room, Laura went to the bathroom. When she came out, she kicked off her shoes and sat on the bed.

I answered the knock at the door and let Roy in. He took off his blazer, draped it over the chair next to mine, and sat down.

I returned to my chair and asked, “How would you propose we proceed?”

“I’d like to undress your wife,” he said to me.

I looked at Laura. She was flushed from her face down to her neck. She met my eyes. There could have been fear there or maybe it was excitement. She nodded.

“Be my guest,” I said.

Roy to the bed and sat next to her. He took her hand and kissed it. He slid his hand up her arm and placed it behind her neck. He pulled her to him and met her lips with his. At first, she didn’t respond. He ran his tongue over her lips, kissed her neck, and returned to her mouth. She kissed him back. The kiss stretched out, and I could see that their tongues were getting acquainted.

Their lips parted, but he kept his hand on her neck. With his other hand, he ran his fingers along her cheek and then down her neck to her blouse. When he put his hand on the top button of her blouse, he lifted his eyes to hers. She met his gaze. He unbuttoned the top button and continued down her front. When all the buttons were done, he pulled the blouse out of her skirt and pulled it open to her shoulders, baring her bra and the tops of her breasts. He slipped the blouse off her shoulders, and she helped him by lifting her arms. He ran his hands over her bare shoulders, under her arms, and down her arms. His left hand cupped her breast over her bra. His right hand slipped behind her and unfastened the bra. As he brought that hand back and pulled the strap off her shoulder, he pulled her bra cup up and dropped her bra on the floor.

Her breasts wouldn’t be called large, but they were much more than a handful. Her nipples were erect in the center of her large, dark areolas. She looked at me. I couldn’t tell what was in that look. I saw excitement, a question, and maybe a little fear.

Roy didn’t touch her breasts. Instead, he unfastened the waist of her skirt. Then he took her hand and pulled her up. She stood sideways in front of me, facing him. The way she was standing, it looked like she was pushing her breasts toward him. It looked like she wanted him to touch her. But instead, he slipped her skirt and her slip down. She stepped out of them. He picked them up, folded the skirt and put it on the chair. My wife was standing in front of Roy in only her panties and pushing her chest out to him. He slid her panties down. She stepped out of them. She turned to the bed, pulled the covers down, and sat down on the sheet.

“You are more beautiful naked,” he said.

Laura’s face got redder. It could have been embarrassment, but it was at least partly excitement. I wondered when she’d last been naked with someone besides me.

He stood in front of her and told her to undress him. She started with his pants. When they dropped to the floor, she slid his underwear down. I guess men can’t help but compare size when they see another man’s erection. He was about the same length as me, but a little bigger around. Like me, he was circumcised. I stood and dropped my pants and underwear. Not only did I intend to let her know that I was there, I wanted to release my incredibly hard member.

I expected that she would handle his member, but she took her cue from him and unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall to the floor. He stepped out of his clothes, and they sat on the bed next to each other. He raised his hand and held it in front of her breast. He held it there until she met his eyes and nodded.

He cupped her breast and took a while just massaging that breast. He pushed her back and she lay down. He crawled onto the bed next to her and knelt at her side. Across my wife’s beautiful naked body from me, Roy massaged her breasts, pausing every few minutes to gather a nipple between finger and thumb, stretching her nipples in circles. When he pulled her nipples, she moaned and thrust her chest up. She opened her legs wide. She was clearly inviting him there. Ignoring her plea to lie between her legs, he kissed her lips. His tongue played with her lips until she reached for him, and then he devoured her mouth.

He kissed her cheek, her neck, between her breasts, both nipples, and staggered kisses along her belly. She jerked her hips several times and pulled her legs farther apart. Her pussy was open wide as he kissed along the edge of her muff. He kissed the crease between her legs. She pushed her hips toward him. I could tell that she was impatient for him to get to her clit. I was too. Watching him caress her body and her wriggling, twitching, and moaning response left no doubt that she was going to welcome him inside her. My penis cried out for me to jump on her and pump like crazy, but this was a new game. I was almost relieved when he finally put his mouth on her clit. She moaned louder and pushed her mound against him.

He was mindful of my desire to see everything. He turned so I could see him tonguing her clit. He dipped his tongue down and tasted her wet opening. It only took a few minutes of Roy tonguing my wife for her to cry out and arch her back. Her whole body shook while he kept tonguing her, extending her orgasm. With one last spasm, she folded up and closed her legs.

If it had been me, I would have jumped between her legs and entered her right then. What he did was to kiss up her belly, engulf her breast with his lips, and suck her nipple hard. She squirmed under his mouth. He kissed her chest, neck, and cheek. He devoured her mouth. She took his member in her hand. Loosely, she stroked him while his tongue danced in her mouth. She spread her legs. My penis was screaming for me to lie between her legs so it could dive into her gaping pussy.

She pulled on his member drawing him between to her. He held himself up with his left arm so that I could see his penis press on her clit. He rubbed her clit gently. I watched as another man’s penis slid down my wife’s pussy and dove into her. He paused and rubbed her opening with the head of his penis several times. She moaned and pushed her hips against him. He pushed back. As he pulled back, his penis came almost all the way out and then pressed into her. He kept a slow, regular rhythm while she grasped her knees, pulling her legs wide apart. He pressed his lips to hers. When his tempo increased, she panted in time with each of his faster thrusts. He held himself to her as his hips thrust hard against her pressing his penis deep inside her. He pumped so fast in her that his hips looked like a jackhammer. I was sure he was holding that fast pace longer than I ever had. She cried out, and her body jerked with spasms that went on and on. Until the spasms calmed, he held the frantic pace. When her orgasm finished with one last spasm, he pressed into her and cried out.

After laying on her for a few minutes, he rolled off. I stood up and sat on the edge of the bed so I could see better between her legs. Still wide apart, her legs held her pussy open while Roy’s fluid seeped out of my wife.

Unsure if it was my turn now, I ran my hand along the inside of her thigh. She sighed. I looked at Roy. He met my eyes and smiled, but he didn’t move. I ran my hand down to her pussy and swirled his cum with my finger. My member was hollering and would let me delay no longer.

I crawled between her legs and slipped into her. She pressed her hips to me, and I pushed deep into her. It took a lot of control not to come right away. Roy was watching us. I had never made love with someone watching. It could have been that, but more likely it was the feel of his cum in her vagina, I found it impossible to hold back and pressed against her as I came.

I rolled to her side. Immediately, Roy was between her legs and in her. He started with the same long strokes he’d used before. Laura wiggled her hips and pulled her legs back farther. They were so far back that her pussy was horizontal. He leaned forward. In this position, his large penis surged straight up and then plunged down deep. She looked down. She must have seen his large member pumping into her. She laid back and moaned. His penis was slippery with cum, and cum seeped down her crack. His bottom pumped up and down as he banged on her clit with each thrust.

She moaned. She panted. She twitched. He increased the pace. She cried out as she squirmed, her back arched, and spasms shook her.

Roy pounded faster. The spasms continued. She moaned louder between her pants. Her body shook with another orgasm. I don’t think the first one ended before she cried out from the second one. Still, Roy didn’t stop. He pounded with a frenzy. She pushed her hips up to answer every one of his thrusts. She hadn’t stoped shaking from her second orgasm when the third wave of spasms curled her body as she pushed her pussy into the pounding thrusts. When the spasms lengthened, Roy pressed against her, cried out, and his hips jerked. He held himself hard against her.

He sat back on his heels. His soft member pulled out followed a gush of cum. I didn’t let her relax. As he moved aside I mounted her. I pushed her legs up and drove my hardness down into her gaping vagina. Watching Roy pound into Laura as she held her pussy so open had been so intense that I didn’t dare touch myself because the lightest touch would have triggered an orgasm. But having watched Roy demonstrate such control, I wanted to last for a few a while.

She was so full of cum that I thought it was sloshing out every time I pushed into her. Or maybe it was the way she was squeezing my cock that pushed the cum out. She was wonderfully tight and slick. I kissed her lips and her neck. She tongued me and kissed my neck. Every time I pumped into her, I pressed deeper and felt her mound rub on mine. After multiple orgasms with Roy, I expected that she wouldn’t respond quickly, but maybe she was continuing the ones she had with Roy. I was pleased when she began to pant and thrust hard against me. I fought to hold back, and soon she shook and cried out. When her orgasm was at its peak, and she squeezed me tightly, I pressed into her and did some shaking myself.

Roy headed to the bathroom. I slipped out of her and leaned back. I used the bathroom after Roy.

When I came back from the bathroom, Laura had the hotel room service menu open on her lap. “Room service is open for another hour. Let’s order a second dessert,” she said. The clock said it was a few minutes after ten.

“Second dessert?” I said.

“You’ve just had your first dessert.” Laura was not one to joke about sex. She always considered it a serious business. That was why we’d had some difficult discussions about some of my ideas for increasing our excitement. Maybe things were changing.

“Vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, mango, or rainbow?”

“Chocolate.”

“Vanilla.”

“You staying for a while?” she asked Roy.

“Until you throw me out,” he smiled.

“Let’s order some sandwiches for later,” she said. “Roast beef okay?”

Roy answered, “Sure.”

I nodded at the woman sitting in bed who had just had continuous sex from two lovers for nearly two hours, one of them an experienced swinger.

She placed our order and left for the bathroom.

“What do you think,” Roy asked.

“That was one of the most intense sexual encounters I’ve ever had.”

“I think she had a good time too,” he said.

“You noticed,” I said. I didn’t want to admit to him that Laura had seemed more turned on than at any time I could remember.

Laura returned to the bed and sat in the middle, leaning against the headboard. She looked up at us and patted the bed with both hands. I took a seat on her right opposite Roy.

While we waited for room service, Roy told us about his wife and their experiences with swinger parties. Your fantasies might be that these were about a man having several partners in a night, but it was clear from his descriptions that the women were in control. A woman selected which men or women she wanted. The men concentrated on pleasuring the women. If you just stuck it in a woman and came, she’d probably prefer someone who took their time and knew what to do.

When the knock came at the door, I put on a robe while Laura and Roy pulled the covers up.

The room service delivery boy’s eyebrows raised when he noticed two people in the bed in addition to me. I gave him a good tip.

We spooned our ice cream in bed. By the time we finished, Roy and I had erections. He played with her left breast, and I matched his movements on the other. She wiggled her chest back and forth and slid down in the bed. We lay beside her toying with her nipples. She spread her legs. I suspected that meant she was ready for a finger or two on her clit. But like the last time, Roy ignored her spread legs and her moans. He kissed her cheek. I kissed the other one. He kissed the side of her neck. I kissed my side. He covered her mouth with his. I kissed her cheek right next to where another man was devouring her mouth.

While he sucked her nipple, I kissed her. With my tongue in her mouth, I tried to tell if I could taste him. I joined him on her other breast. I guess he knew that I was following him, letting him set the pace and watching him pleasure my wife. He pulled her leg up and turned his head to her open crotch. I joined him on the other side, pulling her leg up.

She was still seeping cum from earlier. He lay his head on the inside of her thigh. That allowed him to tongue her clit but left enough room for me to approach from the other side. I’d never kissed a man and touching his tongue with mine was a bit strange. But most of what I felt was the smooth skin on the sheath of her clit and the slick skin inside the sheath. Clearly, two tongues were better than one because, in only a few minutes, she was panting and thrusting her hips. When she came, she cried out, her vagina clenched, and more cum flowed out.

Roy didn’t fool around this time, but turned and lay between her legs. Only a foot from my eyes, his penis slid into her. While he started with a long slow tempo, I rubbed her clit with one hand and fingered a nipple with the other. My hard member pressed against her side where the movement of her hips rubbed me with every one of his strokes. The base of his penis pressed my fingers hard against her clit with each thrust. I was surprised at how fast she’d recovered. Before he increased his tempo, she was thrashing and twisting. He sped up, and she arched her back, pulled her legs back, and cried out. He kept that tempo until her orgasm subsided and then began the frantic pace I’d seen before. Immediately she was thrashing and twisting again. After only a few minutes of Roy’s frantic pumping, my wife had had a second orgasm. Just at the peak of her spasms, he pressed hard, arched his back, and cried out.

I had a close view of his penis sliding out of her, followed by cum seeping out. She was without a penis in her for less than ten seconds as I quickly replaced him. She was hot inside. She held me and matched every thrust with one of her own. She felt tight inside, but as I plunged in, cum squished out. Roy rubbed her clit and fingered her nipple. His penis was soft and hung loosely at her side.

While I slowly increased the tempo, she took Roy’s member in hand and gently fingered its head. She squeezed my member with each trust. I kissed her, holding our lips together for a while before slipping my tongue between her lips. As my body moved over her, Roy’s hand on her breast pressed against my chest and his fingers on her clit pressed against my bush. Roy slipped his fingers down, and I felt him touch my penis. No man had ever touched my penis, and I didn’t expect I’d want someone to, but as he pressed harder and his fingers followed me in, there was a new mix of feelings. I felt another man’s fingers in my wife. I got lost in that feeling and lost the concentration that allowed me to hold back. My back arched as I pressed his hand deeper and came.

As my penis softened, Roy pressed his fingers into her vagina and slid them out to her clit. It was beginning to look like Roy was going to be responsible for most of Laura’s orgasms tonight. I took my place at her side, fingering her nipple and rubbing her clit. Roy let me take care of her clit while he concentrated on pounding his fingers in her. She arched her back, cried out, and thrashed under my hand.

Roy and I lay beside her. I was cupping her breast, and he was rubbing her belly. Other than a break for the second dessert, we’d been having sex for over three hours. I was sure that, after a short recovery, I’d be ready again. Roy was already hard, and Laura didn’t look like she was tired of orgasms.

“Tell us some more about your swinger parties,” she said.

He said that most of the swingers at the parties that he and his wife went to were people they had known for several years. They welcomed new members, but the group was relatively stable with about as many dropouts as new members.

“Do you ever get together with some of them outside the parties?”

“Yes, we have a few friends that are swingers. We have each other over for dinner and excitement.”

“Is your wife as into this as you are?” Laura asked.

Roy slid his hand down. I couldn’t see, but when she twitched, I assumed he’d started rubbing her clit.

“Yes, sometimes I think she’s more of a fan than I am,” he said.

“Do either of you have sex outside your marriage and your swinging?”

Laura seemed to be pursuing this line with more than a casual interest.

“You mean like tonight?” he said.

“Yeah, well I guess you do,” she said. “Does she know where you are.”

“Of course.”

Roy shifted around and moved his head near Laura’s bush. I pulled her leg up. More cum had flowed out of her, and the towel we’d put under her was soaked. I got up to get a fresh towel. When I got back, Laura was on her hands and knees, and Roy was running his hands over her back and her bottom. I laid the new towel under her. He moved behind her.

I’d had many fantasies about watching Laura with another man, but one position that fascinated me was with her on her hands and knees and me lying under her watching the other man’s penis pounding in her. Having that image in mind, I lay under her and scooted up so that I was looking up at her opening with white cream seeping out. Roy was still rubbing the head of his penis around her slit, and she was squirming. She pushed back like she was trying to get him into her. He was teasing her, by staying at her opening but not letting her drive herself onto him.

Her heavy breasts filled my hands and moved loosely as I massaged them. Roy quit playing with her and pressed into her. As he thrust with a slow tempo and she leaned back and forth, her breasts swung. He thrust hard into her, and she pushed back against him. She took my member in her mouth. She stroked my member with her mouth as she followed Roy’s thrusts.

When he pressed into her, his balls slapped against her clit. As his penis slid in and out of my wife, she matched every move, moaning with pleasure. I released her breast from my right hand, brought it up past her leg, and touched her clit. It was very hard and covered with slippery fluid. I slid her sheath up and rubbed the smooth bump inside. She went from moaning to panting and from panting to cries as her body shook with spasms.

She must have wanted to ease off because she leaned forward and Roy’s penis pulled almost all the way out. He followed her. He was pumping wildly. I think we had both decided that we were not going to give her any relief. She cried out again. Was she having another orgasm after less than a minute? He was driving his penis hard into her. I was rubbing her clit with rapid strokes. Even when her body stopped shaking, we didn’t let up. Roy had to pull her hips back and lean forward to keep inside her. My hand never let up. With the last orgasm, I’d seen her vagina throb around Roy’s member. I had to admit he had staying power. As her body stopped shaking, instead of leaning forward, she pressed back against Roy. He pumped deep inside her. She cried out. Roy cried out and pressed hard against her; his penis throbbed as he pumped his cum.

I slid out from under her. Roy laid down next to her. I mounted her and slipped into her. Having watched Roy pound her while she worked her lips over my penis, I was nearly there when I pressed into her. She answered my thrusts and clamped tight on my penis. I cried out and released.

As I lay down, she turned and lay between us. She used the towel to wipe between her legs.

“I think we need some sleep, boys.”

“Good idea,” I said.

“How about another go at it before breakfast,” Roy said.

“Absolutely,” she said.

I lay for a few minutes reflecting on the enthusiasm in my wife’s voice. Sometime in the evening, the scene had shifted from my wife accepting Roy as a lover to offer me an exciting show to two men doing everything they could to pleasure her. Was that what Roy had been talking about?

In the morning, I was the first one to get up to go pee. When I came out of the bathroom, Laura was sitting on the edge of the bed waiting. I left the space in the middle for her. Roy followed Laura. She took her place next to me.

“You were pretty amazing last night,” I said.

“You two were pretty amazing.”

“You like having two lovers?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

Roy came back from the bathroom. He paused, looked at her, and then laid next to her.

We were pretty much in tune with each other. He turned to her and put his hand on her breast as I did the same thing. Laura reached down and took my member in her hand. She had her other hand on his. We were erect and pressed against her hands.

“Who’s first?” she asked.

“You go first,” Roy said.

I turned and slid over and took position between her legs. I pulled her legs up, and she opened before me. She looked dark red. Either she had been thinking about what was coming, or she was a little irritated from four hours of constant pounding.

Roy knelt next to her and held her breasts while I tongued her clit. Her vagina was very wet and slick, and I wondered if she was still leaking cum or if she was extremely excited. Soon, she was moaning and pushing against me. I felt Roy moving, but kept tonguing her. I looked up fter a powerful twitch of her legs, I saw that she had Roy in her mouth. I pulled up and slipped in. Once I pushed hard, my face was next to hers. While Roy pumped into her mouth, I pumped into her pussy. I kissed her cheek and felt his penis push from inside her mouth.

Just seeing my wife with another man’s penis in her mouth would have been exciting, but seeing the head of his penis slip out between her lips and her tongue circle the head made it hard for me to hold back. But I did. I pressed my mound against hers with each thrust. I waited until her body thrashed under me and then I concentrated on the hot contractions of her vagina and pressed into her as I came.

I rolled off her. Roy pulled her up onto her knees and mounted her from behind. Even with the re-positioning, there couldn’t have been more than twenty seconds between the time I slipped out of her and he was deep inside her.

“How about scrambled eggs, bacon, croissants, and coffee,” I said.

I heard a “mufff’ from Laura and a “fine” from Roy.

While I called in a room service order, I watched Roy fuck my wife from behind.

“You need to finish up in twenty minutes,” I said.

“I’m good,” Roy said. “How about you?” he said to Laura.

“mufff”

I lay under her breast sucking one while fingering the nipple of the other one. Between her legs, Roy was steadily pumping into her. He wasn’t yet up to his fastest pace, but she was moaning and pressing back to his thrusts. As her breasts swung with her body, I pulled her nipple hard. Roy began pumping faster. Her body twitched. Fluid dripped from her pussy. He moved into his frantic mode. I wondered if she was holding back, savoring the intense thrusting. I reached down to her pussy. As soon as I touched her clit, her body shook, and she cried out. Roy continued the rapid pace, and she kept shaking until she cried out again and curled up. Roy pressed hard in her and cried out.

“Wow. We still have seven minutes,” I said.

Laura lay on her stomach still twitching. Roy wiped his penis with the towel.

“Time enough for a shower,” she said heading for the bathroom.

Roy and I were in the hotel supplied robes when room service arrived. The server set out the food on the table and left. We poured coffees and returned to our seats to wait for Laura.

“Have you done this very much?”

“With couples starting out? I guess this is the third time.”

“Its pretty intense,” I said.

“You guys are a bit intense,” he said. “She is an amazing lover.”

He must have thought that I needed encouragement too. “You keep up better than most men.”

“So this is really about satisfying the women?”

“Well, you have to admit, there is nothing more exciting than to have your member in a woman who is coming.”

He was right. But it was pretty exciting watching your wife come with another man’s member in her.

“Your wife likes sessions like this?”

“Of course.”

Laura came out of the bathroom. She had a towel around her hair, but that was all.

Roy and I tossed our robes off and joined her at the table.

We were almost done with the meal, when Roy asked Laura, “Did you have a good time?”

“Yes.”

“Want to do it again?”

“Yes.”

“Want to try three men next time?”

The discussion so far had my member hard. She thought about her answer. And eventually said, “Sure.”

We finished the meal. I was working on my third cup of coffee.

“Time for one more session?” he said.

“Thought you’d never ask,” she said, standing up. She followed him back to the bed.

I sipped my coffee as I watched my wife crawl onto the bed and over Roy who lay on his back with his hard member waiting. She guided him into her. She sat back on him as he pushed up into her.

I moved to sit on the end of the bed where I had a closer view. She leaned back and forth as he slipped in and out. He held her hips, pushed up, and pumped rapidly. She moaned and wiggled her hips. He held her breasts with both hands as he upped his tempo from fast to frantic. She moaned and squeezed his chest. I don’t think I could keep up the frantic pace as long as he did. It must have been several minutes.

She cried out and arched her back. He didn’t pause as spasms rocked her. She held still and panted, and then she cried out again as more spasms shook her. She jerked and twisted on the penis that pumped madly into her. He held her high in the air as he pushed into her and held her suspended. While he pressed into her, she continued to twitch for at least a minute.

She rolled off of him and lay on the bed.

“You know,” he said. “You’re very good. You could be a professional.”

I was still thinking about what that might mean when Roy scooted off the bed and began dressing. I brought Laura another cup of coffee. Roy finished dressing.

“That was a great night. If you want to do that again or have a session with my wife and me, let me know. Or I could round up another fellow or two.”

After he left, we dressed and packed up. Even after we were in the car, we didn’t say much. She looked pensive. I had a lot to think about. I’d seen a side of my wife that I hadn’t expected. I don’t know what I expected a woman who was being pleasured by two men to do.

We were about halfway home when she said, “What do you suppose he meant when he said I could be a professional?”

“A prostitute?”

“I suppose, but I don’t think they are into pleasure for themselves. I think it’s all about the money.”

We drove along with the sun high in the sky and almost no traffic.

“Maybe he meant a porn star,” she said.

“You thinking of changing careers?”

“No, I think financial analysis pays a bit better. But I have to admit, it’s not as exciting.”

“So you want to do that again?”

“I told you I did.”

“You want another man or two?”

“Maybe.”

“Want to try a couples thing?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I know you got off seeing me with Roy, but I’m not sure how I would feel seeing you with another woman.”

“Seeing you wasn’t what I expected.”

“How so?”

“I didn’t expect you to enjoy it that much. I haven’t been able to make you come like that.”

“The situation was exciting.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Roy’s pretty experienced. If you were with him alone, he’d probably be able to do that to you.”

“We could find out.”

It was good that there wasn’t any traffic on the road. I almost left my lane when I jerked in response to her statement.

“You want to go meet up with Roy?”

“He’s pretty good.” She gave me a smile that I think meant that she’d been leading me on. Or maybe not.

The post Me, him and my wife appeared first on sexstories.org.

‘Bloody workmen. You just can’t rely on them.’

Emma cringed as Matt slammed the phone down. ‘They were supposed to be here at seven. I wanted to brief them about the layout.’ She knew what was coming next. ‘Can you sort this out, Emma, love?’ he wheedled, giving her a boyish grin that had once charmed her into agreeing to most of his requests, reasonable or otherwise.

‘You know I have to go to the office. I’m late as it is.’
Before she could answer, he’d grabbed the car keys and was already on his way out.

‘Of course, Matt. No problem, Matt,’ she muttered irritably to the empty kitchen.

She’d planned to spend the day working on an essay for her counselling course.

Sighing, she made herself a strong black coffee. She needed caffeine. It wasn’t that she minded sorting out the builders. It was the assumption that she would, without question. Being taken for granted. She tried the number again, but there was no reply. The builders were probably on their way over. She glanced at the clock – eight fifteen. She was sure they’d be here soon. They weren’t unreliable – just a bit lax when it came to timekeeping. But they did a good job, took pride in their work. Nice couple of blokes, really – brothers Steve, who was twenty-five and Gus, eighteen. She knew their ages because after they’d finished work on Friday night and joked over tea and biscuits Gus had mentioned his recent birthday party and complained that his brother was getting ‘past it’ at twenty-five, which made her laugh. Then he’d tried to guess her age.

‘Twenty-one at most,’ he’d suggested.

‘And the rest,’ she’d replied, blushing. She was already thirty-three when she’d met Matt and they’d been living together for nearly ten years. She sometimes wondered where the time had gone. Still, it was flattering in a way, even though she knew Gus probably played the same game with all his female clients. He was quite good-looking too, in a rugged sort of way. Muscular, strong, well-built. It came with the territory, she supposed. All that lifting and carrying and hammering and screwing.

There was a knock on the door.

‘Where’s Steve?’ she asked, surprised to see only Gus unloading tools from the battered Escort van.

‘Hangover,’ Gus replied. ‘We went to a night-club last night. Poor old sod, I told you he can’t keep up the pace. Don’t worry, he’ll be here later. It’s okay, we won’t let you down.’

As Gus disappeared up the ladder into the new loft conversion, Emma hoped he was right. They’d agreed to get the job finished by six-thirty, on the dot. It was to be a surprise for Matt, who wasn’t expecting the work to be completed for another two days. The old loft, over a period of weeks, had been slowly transformed into a spacious extra room. There had been problems with the structure, delays in getting the right materials, but soon it would be ready. A new office space for Matt, with a computer, fax and modem, and big oak desk that Matt had already ordered from a catalogue he had brought home from work. The walls had been painted white-with-a-hint-of-plum, contrasting with a subtle shade of chalk blue for the ceiling. Pine bookshelves and a luxurious swivel chair, black leather and chrome, were stored in the garage, protected by plastic sheeting, awaiting their unveiling.

Hopefully, with such a great space, Matt would work from home more often and they would get to see more of each other. He always put work first, but at least this way he would be home for dinner more often, although she sometimes wondered if it was really work that kept him out so late. They both knew that their relationship was hanging by a thread – a flimsy one at that.

‘Some people have children to cement a relationship – we convert the loft,’ she had joked bitterly to Steve over tea one morning.

He’d smiled and she wasn’t certain whether it was sympathy or pity.

‘So, what is it today – custard creams or bourbons?’

Gus had come back downstairs quietly, without her hearing and was standing behind her, close enough to feel his breath on her neck.

‘Chocolate hobnobs,’ she replied, without moving away. ‘Your hair smells good,’ he said suddenly and for a moment she felt her heart racing. Quickly, she moved away and clattered mugs and plates, tearing the biscuit wrapper with shaking fingers. Pull yourself together, Emma, she told herself fiercely. You’re acting like a silly teenager.

‘How’s it going?’ she asked briskly. ‘Think it will be finished on time?’

Gus nodded. ‘Trust me.’ He took a swig of tea. ‘That’s a nice blouse you’re wearing this morning.’

‘I bet you say that to all the girls,’ she replied.

‘Only the pretty ones,’ he laughed.

Emma groaned. ‘I wasn’t born yesterday, you know.’ ‘Worth a try,’ he retorted. He glanced at the clock.

‘Where’s that delinquent brother of mine? I’d better give him a call.’ He had just started to key a number on his mobile when Steve arrived.

‘The back door’s open,’ Emma shouted through the window and Steve came in through the patio, carefully wiping his boots on the mat.

‘Just in time for tea break,’ he said, heading purposefully for the hobnobs. ‘I hope you’ve saved something for me,’ and Emma thought that he winked at Gus.

Despite being unable to get on the computer, Emma spent a productive afternoon, writing notes for her essay, with the background sounds of Radio One punctuated by
drilling and hammering from above the ceiling. By six fifteen, chicken was roasting in the oven, the wine was chilled and the strawberry trifle had been spooned into a cut glass bowl. She had prepared a special meal for a special night. In twenty minutes Matt would be home. She just had time to change.

‘Ready for your inspection, madam,’ announced Steve, peering into the kitchen at six forty, then added, ‘Wow!’

Emma didn’t often dress up – there never seemed to be the opportunity and suddenly she felt self-conscious in a clingy lycra dress, stockings and high heels.

Ignoring his gaze and feeling flustered, she said swiftly, ‘Is it finished?’

‘Come upstairs and see,’ he responded, gesturing her to follow.

It wasn’t easy ascending the loft ladder with stilettos but the struggle was worth it. When she saw the room, Emma felt quite emotional. It was a dream of a room.

‘It’s perfect,’ she breathed.

‘Glad you like it,’ replied Steve. ‘Now, before we go, is there anything else you need us to do?’

She hesitated. ‘There is something. I hope you won’t feel I’m taking advantage by asking.’

‘If you don’t ask, you won’t get,’ joked Gus.

‘Well, could you possibly bring up the bookshelves and leather chair from the garage?’

‘No problem.’

‘Thanks, I do appreciate this. It really is a lovely room.

Thank you.’

‘Don’t mention it. Oh, and payment in cash of our outstanding fee would be nice.’

‘Yes, of course.’

Back downstairs, fumbling in her purse for the right cash, Emma felt a warm glow. The meal was going to be perfect. The room was perfect. She even felt good about herself. It was going to be a perfect evening.

Then the phone rang. It was Matt. ‘Sorry, love – I really hate to do this to you, but we have a major problem at work, need to meet an important deadline. Have to stay late and I have an early start tomorrow, so I’m going to book into a hotel.’

Feeling crushed, Emma put the phone down.

‘Anything wrong?’ asked Steve, who was hovering in the doorway.

‘Nothing I’m not used to,’ she muttered quietly. ‘Hey, are you sure you’re alright?’

‘No. I’m not, actually. But it’s my problem. I’ll get your money, if you can just hang on a minute.’

Staring at herself in the bedroom mirror, feeling ridiculous in her black fuck me dress, Emma visualised her relationship with Matt spiralling down into a vortex, taking all the anger and upset with it. To her surprise she began to laugh. How ironic – their relationship was finished at the same time as the completion of the loft room. It was both funny and pathetic. Why was she wasting her energy and emotions on someone who clearly didn’t feel she was worth the effort? Emma took a deep breath and went back into the kitchen, where Steve and Gus waited awkwardly.

‘Would you like to stay for supper?’ she heard herself say. ‘I mean, it seems a shame to waste all this food. Anyway, I hate eating alone.’

Gus opened the wine and they polished off the chicken in double quick time before starting on the dessert.

‘This is delicious,’ commented Gus. ‘Terrific,’ agreed Steve.

‘You’re right,’ said Emma, spooning the creamy substance between her lips and licking the spoon provocatively.

‘Here, you’ve missed a bit.’ Steve leant across and wiped cream from the corners of her mouth, his fingers lingering. Gus watched with interest.

‘Actually, I hadn’t realised just how hungry I am.’ And with that, she took hold of his finger and began to nibble.

‘You’re tipsy,’ laughed Gus.

‘Not tipsy enough,’ she replied, pouring more wine. ‘Hey, steady on,’ said Steve.

‘Bloody men,’ she complained. ‘All the same.’ ‘No we’re not,’ protested Gus.

‘Show me, then.’

Gus leaned across the table and gently kissed her on the mouth. Responding instantly, Emma pulled him towards her and their tongues entwined. Simultaneously she felt Steve’s hands around her waist. He had got up from the table and was standing behind her, kissing her neck. She groaned and his hands slipped between her legs, feeling her wetness. Her head was spinning.

‘Let’s go upstairs,’ she gasped. ‘I want to christen the loft room.’

On the newly polished wooden floor, Emma lay spread- eagled, her dress indecently hitched up around her waist with Steve between her legs, tonguing and licking her, while Gus peeled off her stockings. She came quickly, her eyes swimming, while she was sucking Gus’s delicious cock, and while she was still recovering, he thrust his throbbing hardness into her. She heard a woman’s voice scream – ‘Screw me to the floor, you fuckster!’ and realised it was her own. She was amazed at Gus’s stamina and he kept going until she came again, which wasn’t difficult when Steve was pinching and sucking her breasts while simultaneously caressing her clitoris. While Gus was getting his breath back, Steve slid into her welcoming pussy and she came again in waves, melting into what she imagined she could describe as a state of fuckstasy. They did it on the floor, against the wall, on the rug, twice on Matt’s new desk, and on the leather chair. Emma hadn’t realised it was possible for one woman to enjoy so much pleasure and attention. Finally, exhausted, they slept.

They awoke in the early hours, limbs entwined. Emma stretched languorously and went down to the kitchen, naked except for her high heels, and made them coffee. Soon after, Gus and Steve packed their tools away and kissed her goodbye and she thanked them for all they had done.

When they had left, Emma gradually returned to earth with a thud. She couldn’t quite believe what had happened, that she had behaved so wantonly. She told herself it wasn’t her fault, that it was a combination of frustration, neglect, a need for attention – perhaps even revenge on Matt for making her feel invisible.

As soon as he arrived home from work that night, Matt knew something had changed. He couldn’t articulate what it was, but for some reason, Emma seemed different. When she said, ‘I have a surprise for you,’ he wondered what to expect. Taking him by the hand she led him upstairs and asked him to follow her up the loft ladder. Then he saw the completed loft room and he was quite overwhelmed.

‘God, Emma, I don’t know what to say. I love it. It’s wonderful.’

He kissed her lightly on the cheek. ‘I feel dreadful now about last night, for spoiling everything you planned for me.’ Suddenly he put his arms around her waist and
pulled her towards him, holding her close so she could feel his hardness pressed against her. ‘I know you think I’m work obsessed, but I really missed you last
night. I hardly slept at all.’

‘Neither did I, darling,’ she replied, her clit still tingling from the night before. ‘Shall we christen our new loft room?’

The post Men At Work appeared first on sexstories.org.

I didn’t see mom again until dinner time. She was quiet, a bit preoccupied I guess; enough so that Dad asked her if everything was all right. “Yeah, fine.” She tells him as she moves the food around on her plate with her fork. “I have a report I have to finish by Monday, that’s all. I can’t seem to get it out of my head.” She shot a quick glance in my direction. A snotty glance. We sat and ate; my father asking the usual questions. “How was school?” “How’s baseball going’?” Bla— Bla— Bla— Bla… Every once-in-a-while, I caught Mom looking at me. She was hard to read. One time she looked mad, the next time, she didn’t. I was beginning to worry about the repercussions heading my way.

The rest of the night went relatively normal. After dinner, the dishes were cleared, Dad sat down in front of the TV watching baseball, and Mom sat at the dining room table going through her briefcase. The only thing different was the fact that I found myself looking at my Mom a lot. For a second, I wondered how my Dad managed to get a woman as beautiful as my Mom and how lucky he was. Then after a few more minutes of thought I realized with the bitching and the mood swings Mom was notorious for…I figured that maybe Dad broke even on the whole thing. But she certainly was hot

Her hair was back in a ponytail; the tail hanging well past her shoulders. She had a long, off-white sun dress on that had some-kind of yellow and pink floral print over one shoulder and down the other side. She seemed to float as she walked. She was bare foot; something she didn’t do often. I found it very “Girl next door”, although she was way more beautiful than any girl that had ever lived next door; or on the entire street.

Her make-up was light, her lips a pretty shade of pink. Her make-up looked fresh; like she’d freshened up a bit before dinner. That was something she didn’t normally do. She looked much younger then forty-three. She looked… …Well, like she should be on the cover of some magazine.

I was sneaking glances at my Mom so much that I started to feel self-conscious. I told them that I had a book report coming up and headed up to my room “To read”. “That’s my boy”, my old man boasted. “He’s something’ isn’t he Kat?” {Kathy} Dad asked, never taking his eyes off the TV. “Oh yeah, he’s something alright.” Mom agreed as she looked away from her paperwork only to find me staring at her again. I was close enough to first see her cheeks fill with color and maybe a hint of embarrassment in her eyes and then, the next second, her lips tightened, and her eyes narrowed. She quickly turned back to her work. Talk about hard to read, Holy Fuck. It was like living with Mrs. Jeckle & Mrs. Hide.

I went upstairs and read for a book-report that wasn’t due for three weeks. I straightened up my room and fucked around on my computer. I did anything to try and stop from thinking about what Mom had done this afternoon. But wouldn’t you know it; I ended up on a porn site dedicated to “Mature Women”.

I was browsing through pictures and movie clips, stopping at the ones that reminded me of my Mom. There were a lot: ‘Moms’ getting themselves off; home alone, in the car, even in store dressing rooms. It was wild. I saw ‘Moms’ doing their ‘son’s’ best friends and even their son’s girlfriends too. And I watched movie clips of ‘moms’ doing more than one young boy at a time. It was pretty hot. I didn’t see any Mom’s doing the family pet but I’m sure, given the time, I would have eventually wound up there.

I‘d gotten sucked into the computer and was shocked when I noticed the time. It was 12:20. Normally my parents would say good night before they went to bed. I figured that Dad had fallen asleep watching TV again and Mom was probably just pissed off or too embarrassed to bother.

I got up out of the chair and looked down at the bulge in my pants. I gave it a little rub and kinda smiled, picturing my Mom on her knees in front of me. I still couldn’t believe it. I grabbed hold of the bulge and started to prance around the room like I was riding a stick horse. Evidently, I was in an exceptionally good mood.

“I guess I’m gunna have to take care of you before I’ll be able to go to sleep, huh Partner?” I told the front of my pants. “You’ll have to wait a few minutes though.”

I figured I’d get ready for bed, {I sleep in my old gym shorts.} then I’d slip down to the kitchen real fast and get a drink before I came back up to deal with this hard-on I had. I slipped into my gym shorts, adjusted my hard dick, and headed for the kitchen.

I quietly walked down the steps. Sure enough, there was dad sleeping on the couch snoring away. I slipped into the kitchen and reached for the light switch. I saw my Mom, her back to me, still sitting at the dining room table in front of the work she’d brought home. She had changed for bed. She wore a pretty short, black night dress with thin straps that showed a great deal of leg. It was hot!!

She was leaning back in the chair, her head tilted way back and she was pulling at the scrunchie that held her hair in a ponytail. I watched her arch her back as she stretched. She was tired. I couldn’t help but stare as she freed her long hair, ran her fingers through it, and then shook it out with a quiet moan and the slow, sexy swaying of her head.

She reminded me of one of those hot babes on the shampoo commercials. “More shine-Better body”

I watched silently, Dad snoring in the back ground, as she stretched her arms over her head and then she wiggled her fingers to loosen them. A slow tired grown escaped her as she dropped her hands and rubbed her neck and shoulders. I was mesmerized. I could feel my shorts getting even tighter. I instinctively reached down and adjusted my dick again.

“Jesus.” I heard my mom whisper. “I can’t believe it.” She moaned quietly to herself. I was pretty sure I knew what she was thinking about. I watched from the shadows of the kitchen as Mom massaged the back of her neck. “You have to stop thinking about it.” She advised herself under her breath before putting her elbows on the table and burying her face in her hands. She shook her head slowly with regret and sighed long and slow.

It was right then, remembering the attitude Mom had when she first caught me this afternoon that I got an idea…

I quietly walked up to my Mom. I reached out and put my hand on her shoulder. She jerked around and saw that it was me. “You scared the shit out of me.” She barked quietly. Her eyes immediately caught the big bulge in my gym shorts as I stood next to her.

“I was just thinking about you, Mom.” This time it was me that was throwing around the sarcasm.

“Yeah well, I’m having a little trouble finishing this report so if you don’t mind. . .” Her eyes bounced back and forth between my eyes and my shorts nervously. She leaned to one side a little to catch a glimpse of the couch. Dad was still sleeping. I just stood there.

“What do you want Robert?”

“I just came down to get a drink and saw you here. You look kinda. . . . . .stressed.”

“Well, I have a lot on my mind.”

“I bet you do”, I responded.

Mom cocked her head a little, trying to figure out what I was up to. She again looked at the erection I was sporting. “I don’t think you should be walking around like that.” She says nodding her head towards the front of my shorts with a disgusted look on her face. She shot another look towards the couch. I looked down at the bulge. “It wasn’t like that when I came down the steps.” I lied.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, I got that watching you doing the hair-thing and all.” I told her matter-of-factly.

She looked a little surprised at my bluntness and a little uncomfortable with it as well. I was glad to put the shoe on the other foot. “Robert, what do you want?” She asked sternly.

“I’m not really sure.”

“Something else to hold over my head no doubt.” She hissed with a snotty whisper.

She turned to her paperwork for a few seconds while she assessed the situation. She bit her lip a little and softly scratched her face with her long fingernails. She turned a little more in her chair so she could see the couch better and talk to me at the same time. She looked worried.

“That should have never happened Robert. . .” She started. “. . .but it did and we can’t change that.” She says. “I think it would probably be best if we just forget today ever happened.”

“Best for who?” I shot back; glad that I was holding some good cards this hand.

“So what are you going to do…Blackmail me?” She says, shocked that I might even consider such a thing. Blackmail hadn’t really entered my mind ‘till then.

“I have an idea.” I told her.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah…” I leaned in closer, “How about… …another blowjob?” I asked with a lump in my throat. I was really hoping I didn’t look as scared as I really was. I was fucking around with fire here.

She jerked her head back on her neck. “Robert!” She shot a look towards the couch. “. . .You need to shut up. What if your father wakes up and hears you?” She asked in a quiet but stern voice.

“Well… …that wouldn’t be very good.” I said sarcastically. She stared at me for a few seconds.

“Bobby?” {I was “Bobby” again} She looked pretty tense. “We can talk about this tomorrow morning after your Father leaves to play golf.”

She had a hopeful look in her eyes. But she hadn’t let me off the hook that easily this afternoon. “We can do that.” I told her.

She looked a little relieved. But before she had a chance to say anything or get to comfortable, I told her, “But for right now…” She looked at me attentively. “I think that maybe you should take care of this.”

I swallowed hard. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen, but I did it anyways. I pulled the front of my shorts down. A bold move for sure. Sink or swim here. “Bobby!” She gasped as she slid her chair back real quick. She looked down at my hard-on and jerked her head towards the couch again to make sure my dad wasn’t sitting there watching all this. He snored lightly with his back to us.

“Robert! Put that thing away before your father wakes up.”

I leaned in towards her a little and whispered, “I guess we’d have some explaining to do, wouldn’t we Mom?”

“You can’t be serious…” She hissed. “You want me to do that …Here?… Now?”

I was standing my ground. Believe me, the thought of my Dad waking up and catching me exposing myself to mom, scared the shit out of me. But the thought of what my Mom had done earlier that day; the picture of her with her lips around my cock, well―it was like a d**g. I really wanted more.

Her eyes flickered back and forth from my Dad back to the hard dick right in front of her as she shifted nervously in her chair. She certainly looked conflicted. She looked the way I probably looked when she stood over me in the living room this afternoon telling me that I didn’t have much time to comply with her demands.

She groaned quietly as she scrutinized her predicament. She could have just got up and run up the stairs but she didn’t. She truly was running out of time. Dad could wake up at any second and see us and she knew it.

I didn’t respond. I just stood there with my dick out, waiting. I felt kinda like the family pet that shit on the new carpet. I wasn’t really sure what was gunna happen, but I knew it was coming.

“I can’t do this… …I won’t do this” She hissed under her breath. She took a deep breath; looked over nervously at Dad, and then shot a quick look around the kitchen. “. . Not here.” she whispered anxiously.

“In my room?” I suggested, more than surprised at her response.

“No―Not in your room, Robert.” She rolled her beautiful eyes. “If your father wakes up. . .” She cut her eyes at him, “. . .and sees that I’m not in our bed, he’ll come looking for me.”

“How bout the garage then?” I asked with a smirk on my face. {Like the movie she’d caught me watching} She exhaled loudly and rolled her eyes again. “I can’t believe this.” She groaned.

She looked at the couch one last time then back to me. She stood up slowly, “Come on…”

I tucked myself in and followed my Mom. “She’s really gunna.” I thought. “Holy shit!”

I felt like a little kid that just stole Santa’s sled.

Mom led the way to the garage. She opened the door, took one final glance back through the kitchen before descending the five steps into the cool garage. She walked directly to the front of my Dad’s cherry MG; the furthest spot from the kitchen door and turned to me with her hands on her hips.

“Did you shut the door?”, She hissed.

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure Robert?”

“I shut the door Mom!”

“Lower your voice. I don’t like having to do this one little bit Robert.” She lied.

She sounded pissed again. But I really didn’t care. All I could concentrate on was that I was going to watch my beautiful mom give me another blowjob. It was dark in the garage. I flipped the tiny light on above the workbench.

“Turn that light off.”

“No.”

“What do you mean ‘No’? If your father opens that door, he’s going to see us.”

“We can duck down behind the car. I want to watch you.”

“What? Watch? Why?”

“Because you’re so hot.” I told her honestly.

She stared at me for a few long seconds but said nothing. She rubbed her lips together. I thought she was about to change her mind then she slowly, seemingly reluctantly, squatted down.

“Come here.”, she says reaching out for the top of my shorts with a certain measure of distaste on her face. I stepped right up to her and she pulled my shorts down to my knees.

“We have to hurry.” She whispered.

“I know… …Before someone catches us.’” I quoted the movie.

“I just knew this was the kind of shit that got you off.” She whispered under her breath and shook her head slowly as she started to run her long fingers over my hard cock; examining it. Her tone was harsh, but her eyes were soft and wanting.

She glanced up at me, “incest…” She whispered. “It’s so wrong to make me do this, you know that don’t you?” She added as she returned her attention to the hard dick in front of her. She plucked a tiny piece of lint off the tip of my dick with her long fingernails and flicked it to the floor. She returned to her scrutiny as she moved my hard dick from one side to the other; inspecting, seemingly indifferent like it was a job she’d been doing forever.

She could take all night as far as I was concerned. She looked incredibly sexy down there.

“How long have you been thinking about me like this Robert?” She asked me as she ran her fingertips over me. It was getting a little hard concentrating on the conversation as I watched her.

“I don’t know, for a while I guess.”

“I can’t see why you would want me to do something like this to you.” She says. The question sounded sincere.

“You mean besides the fact that you’re gorgeous?” Another burst of honesty.

She looked up at me as she crouched there. She looked like she appreciated the compliment.

She turned us both a little so that the light from the workbench showed her pretty face more clearly. She caught the long strands of hair that hung in her face with the fingernail of her pinky and hooked them behind her ears; first one side then the other.

“Is that better?” She says as she looks up at me. There seems to be no sign of resentment in her eyes.

She opened her mouth wide and I watched my dick slowly disappear.

I gasped, “Jeez!” When she had it all in her mouth she wrapped her full pretty pink lips softly around it and sucked.

She stared into my eyes as she slowly, very slowly, pulled her head back until just the red tip was left between her lips. She was putting on a show. She was teasing me. Showing me just how sensual she could be. “Jesus!” I moaned and rested one hand on the front of the car to steady myself while I watched her do it again. “You look so…so…amazing… doing that.” I told her.

Her pointy tongue twirled slowly around the head of my dick as her hand slid down to the base. She didn’t look like someone being blackmailed. I felt her pinky touch my ball sack. She held me firmly and began to bob her head back and forth over me in earnest; taking all of my hard cock all the way in her mouth until her lips touched her fingers.

She wasn’t fooling around. She wanted to make me cum as fast as she could and she knew just how to make that happen.

She took it out of her mouth and started jerking me off real fast as she glanced at the garage door. She shut her eyes and let her tongue flicker around the head some more. The head of my dick slapped her lips repeatedly, smearing her pink lipstick and covering her lips with my pre-cum.

“This is disgusting. . .” She whispered.

I lost my breath when Mom licked her lips and filled her mouth with it again. I felt her moan as she sucked it.

I slipped my hands behind her head and pulled her beautiful long hair back into a ponytail so I could better see her face. She stopped and looked up at me again with just the head of my dick in her mouth. I held her head still, I felt her slide her hands to my bare hips. I slowly pushed forward. She let me slowly start to fuck her mouth. She didn’t look so mad now.

I can’t describe how she looked. All I can say is that she looked hotter and sexier than any slut I’d seen in any porn magazines or any movies. I could hear her, “Ummm― Ummm― Ummm― Ummm…” each time I pushed it in her mouth. I could feel the tip of my dick hitting the back of the throat with each stroke.

After a few minutes she pulled back, letting my dick fall from her mouth. It was really wet now. She spread her spit all over it as she stroked it quickly. That squishing sound filled the garage.

Then mom stared at my cock and got this disgusted look on her face and said something I wasn’t expecting; “I bet you think about fucking me too, don’t you?” She hissed as she stroked me. I was a bit surprised at the sharpness of her tone. The show that she was putting on made me temporarily forget that she “Didn’t want to do this”.

She looked at my cock as she pumped it and talked. “You probably want to make me bend right over your father’s car I bet, so you can stick this thing in me and fuck me with it right now, don’t you?” She bitched.

I thought the questions might be rhetorical.

She looked up, “Is that what you’re gunna make me do Robert? You gunna tell me you’ll tell your father what we did. . . what I’m doing now.” She stroked me more aggressively. “Is that what you’re gunna tell me so I have no choice but to let you do that to me?

She was moving her hand faster now. “You’re gunna blackmail your own mother… …Aren’t you? So you can fuck her? Aren’t you Robert?”

I was “Robert” again. She looked kinda mad kneeling there in front of me as she sucked my dick back into her mouth. I thought that behind the phony anger I could see the pleading. I told her with a quick breath what she wanted to hear, “Yes!”

She took one last look at the door that led to my father. I swear I saw her eyes roll back when she sucked my cock back in between her lips.

She sucked and licked it for a minute or so, like she loved the taste; like it was a big Pop-cycle and she couldn’t get enough of it. She pinned it to my stomach with her lips and kissed the belly of it; kissing her way to my balls. It felt amazing. It was all I could do to keep from cumming.

I have to admit, I wasn’t thinking much about my Dad catching us at this point. I don’t think I could’ve cared less at that moment. I was way too wrapped up in my Mom. It became quite apparent that Mom wasn’t giving Dad a lot of thought either when she stood up and turned to face the car. She pulled her night dress up around her waist and leaned over the hood of the small car.

Her ass was beautiful. A thin black string from her thong separated her firm ass checks. The thin, transparent patch of material that covered her pussy, looked wet. It was soaked with her juices. The juices that I, no doubt, made her secrete.

She looked back over her shoulder, almost maliciously, “Here! Is this what you really want Robert?” She hissed as she reached back and caught the string of her thong with a long fingernail to pull it to one side.

I hesitated. I wasn’t sure who was in control here but quickly decided I didn’t care.

“I knew this was what you wanted when I caught you jerking off to that movie… …You wanted to fuck me, didn’t you? Come on then― Fuck me!.” She demanded through gritted teeth.

I slipped up behind her. My hard cock slipped easily into her wet pussy. I felt mom push back hard to make sure she had it all. She made small circles with her ass as she pushed back. She released her thong, rested both hands on the car, and laid her cheek on the cool red hood of the little MG.

“Come on!” She scowled.

I fished her thong out of the crack of her ass. It was soaked too now. I pressed it to the cheek of her nice round ass with one hand and held her lacey night dress out of the way with the other so I could see better. I started to fuck her. Slow at first; watching it go in and out of Mom’s slippery, pink pussy. “It matches her lips…” I thought. I started to fuck her faster and harder.

In just a few minutes Mom lifted one bare foot up and propped it up on the front bumper. She positioned herself more securely on the front of the car and then did the same with her other foot, spreading them far apart and crouching to keep her ass low enough, giving me a better view and better access. She pushed back on me using the bumper and the windshield for leverage. She felt tighter and it felt like I was in even deeper now.

I held her there and shoved forward as she pushed back. It felt amazing and the view was incredible.

My Mom grunted each time my balls smacked her clit. Each grunt seemed to get a little louder as my thighs slapped into hers.

“Umh― Umh― Umh― Umh― Umh― Umh― Umh―” I don’t know how I lasted as long as I did.

“I’m gunna cum!!!” I groaned through my tight lips.

My mom didn’t slow down a bit. If anything, she moved her ass faster in response.

I let go of her thong and filled my hands with the roundness of each ass cheek. I spread my fingers apart and dug into ass as I drove up into her.

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this…” She grunts. I hear her whine through labored breathing. “You’re making me cum! I’m cumming! I’m cumming too Bobby!!” {I’m “Bobby” again}

The timing couldn’t have been better. I started to shoot a tremendous load of spunk into my Mom’s sweet pussy as she pushed up onto her hands and rocked her ass up and down and side to side. She moved her ass in small circles as she pushed off the windshield of the car.

“Oh God Bobby!!! FUCK!!!” I could feel her ass quivering.

“Oh God!” She says and buried her mouth in her forearm and bit down in an attempt to muffle her moans. “UMMMMMMMMMMMMM” she groaned.

We both came and came hard. I could feel stuff pouring out of her pussy with each trust, running down my balls and onto my thighs. I could feel it splashing my legs as my balls slapped her pussy.

Mom collapsed on the front of the MG trying to catch her breath; her heavy breathing drowning out what she was trying to say. I let my hands glide over her firm ass-checks, running both thumbs down the crack of her ass; marveling at its shape. I hear her moan quietly as my thumb eased over her asshole. I pulled out and slide my fingers down to her soaked pussy.

I took a few seconds feeling how wet and swollen her pussy lips were. They were soft and slippery. I touched her clit. It was hard and swollen. She jerked her ass in response each time my fingertips glided over it. I could feel that Mom’s pussy was smooth, shaved and I spread some of the wetness over its softness.

I don’t know how long we stayed there like that but I was in no hurry to leave the garage. At that point, I doubt I could have even found my way back to my room.

She mumbled something again, but I still couldn’t understand what she was saying with her face buried in her arm. I stepped around to the front fender, “What?” I whispered. “I can’t hear you.”

She lifted her head and looked over at me. She took a deep steady breath and released it. “I suppose you’ll tell your father about this if I don’t let you fuck me tomorrow too.” She bitched as she lay her head back down on the car and concentrated on breathing.

I couldn’t believe that after all this, the “bitchy” had returned full force. I smiled and tucked my wet dick back into my shorts. Nothing she could say now could ruin my mood.

Then Mom did something else that shocked me. She slid off the hood of the car and dropped down to her knees in front of me again. She pulled me to her by the front of my shorts.

“You’ll probably want to do some more sick shit to me after your Dad leaves for the Golf Course tomorrow, Won’t you?”

She griped as she exposed my tired, wet dick. She glided the tip of one finger down its slimy length as it hung semi-soft in front of her. She twirled her finger around the sloppy head a few times then rubbed her thumb and finger together. She looked like she was in deep thought as she watched her fingers sliding back and forth together.

“You’ll wanna do something depraved …Like fuck me on the kitchen table or cum on my face, I bet. . .” She hissed, staring at my prick the entire time she bitched.

She wrapped her fingers around my wet, semi-hard dick and pulled at it roughly, angrily, stretching it. It didn’t really hurt but her attitude kinda caught me by surprise.

“This is incest…”, she reminds me. “You’re sick…” She growled as she took me in her mouth again. I leaned back on the hood of Dad’s car while she sucked my dick clean.

The post A Mother’s Seduction appeared first on sexstories.org.

—- 1 —-

Sophie stood in front of the door, willing herself to give in and knock. It wasn’t that she was scared of what or who was behind the door. There were few things that Sophie Meyers feared, and her nerdy classmate would never make that list. Still, something made her pause. Pride, maybe.

Steeling herself, she set her jaw and knocked on the door. A few seconds later, the apartment door opened, revealing a tiny Asian girl in glasses and hair that obviously hadn’t been brushed or washed for days. She froze in the doorway.

“Hi Tsuki,” said Sophie. “I hate doing this to you, but it’s kind of an emergency. Can I crash at your place tonight?” She grinned, showing white, perfectly straight teeth.

“Um…” Tsuki started, faltering almost as soon as she tried.

“Great! Thanks.” Sophie adjusted the bag hanging from her shoulder and pushed past the much shorter girl. Sophie looked around. She wrinkled her nose.

Tsuki’s apartment was exactly what she expected. It was small, bland, and crammed with books on every available hard surface. There weren’t any decorations or personal touches in the main room. Even the couch looked like it was the cheapest model Wal-mart sold. It was exactly the kind of apartment a nerdy girl who actually took college seriously would have.

“W-what happened?” asked Tsuki, closing the door and trailing after Sophie like a puppy.

“Hm? Oh, a prank.” Sophie dropped her bookbag and purse on top of an open book on what she assumed was the coffee table. “Some jackass thought it would be funny to mess with the girls’ water heater in my dorm, and now the place is flooded and I have a test tomorrow. Mind if I use your shower?”

“What? Oh, no!” Tsuki protested, darting in front of Sophie and blocking the way to the bathroom. “You can stay here for a night of course, but my shower is…”

“Ugh, don’t tell me it’s not working either.” Sophie rolled her eyes. Just her luck. The one person who wouldn’t have one or more of their classmates begging to couch surf was the one with a busted shower.

“Broken? No, it’s…I mean, yes. Yes, it’s broken.” Tsuki remained very still, staring at the brunette girl.

“Well, that’d explain the hair, then,” said Sophie. Her eyes darted from the Asian girl’s face up to her dirty, ratty black hair. No, the truth was that the nerd probably just forgot to bathe for a few days. She often seemed to forget.

It was a pity, Sophie reflected. Tsuki could’ve been pretty if she actually tried. She was a five foot nothing Asian girl at a science focused university. Men went nuts over that. She looked soft and inviting, and her timid nature had to be like crack to the other nerds. Maybe it was the brains who kept the other nerds away. Last Sophie remembered, Tsuki had a full ride and was studying Quantum Physics or some shit Sophie didn’t get.

All that mattered was that the girl was friendly, smart, willing to help with some of the bullshit classes to keep Sophie’s required B average, and was too much of a pushover to say no. Like, ever.

“Yeah…That’s it.” Tsuki smiled. It looked as forced as Sophie’s had felt.

“Whatever,” said Sophie. She planted herself on the cheap couch. “Maybe I can grab a shower at the gym in the morning. Tonight though…What do you know of 17th century French literature?”

“Um.” A bit of color came to Tsuki’s cheeks. “Not much. I’m afraid I’m not very good at literature. Any trig homework? That stuff’s nice and easy.”

Sophie stared at Tsuki like she’d grown a second head. She shook her head slowly, pityingly. This was why the girl didn’t have much of a social life outside of times Sophie took pity on Tsuki and got her out for a night when she needed help with her homework. She was hopeless, but it was nice to try sometimes. It was like community service.

Oh well. Sophie would take what she could get. Maybe if she got her homework done early, she could call around and find someplace better to crash. She still hadn’t made up with Brad, but he was good with his hands and she definitely needed to relieve some tension. She grabbed a battered copy of Swann’s Way and opened it.

Tsuki stood there, frozen, staring at the tanned, brunette girl and wondering what to say or do. She knew that the other girl didn’t really like her, but it was nice to act like she had friends outside of the advanced mathematics department sometimes. They were stuffy and serious, and treated her like a child. Sophie…Well, it was an improvement.

She uprooted herself and went to the kitchen. After a minute, she came back with a glass of cherry coke. Tsuki set it down on the table next to Sophie and took the other side of the couch. She pulled her book out from under the bag and tried to resume her reading.

“Aw, thanks,” said Sophie, grabbing the glass and draining half of it in one go. Her approval made Tsuki squirm.

The two sat there in silence, save for Sophie’s occasional complaints about the prose, for nearly an hour before Tsuki got the call.

—- 2 —-

The cell rang with a prepackaged, bland tone. The sound of it stirred the two girls from their studying stupor. Tsuki fished it out of her pocket and answered it. After a moment, she stood up and stepped to the far side of the tiny apartment, hunched over and engrossed in the call.

Sophie abandoned her book instantly, instead watching Tsuki and trying desperately to overhear whatever was being said. Was it a boy? That’d give her enough to tease Tsuki for at least the rest of the night. Or maybe…Was it a girl, and that’s why she was being so secretive about it? Tease fodder for the year, at least.

Tsuki remained hunched over as she listened to the person on the other end. She said little, but nodded a lot and said yes. Sophie craned closer, desperate for anything she could use.

She received nothing. Tsuki hung up and turned around. Sophie forced herself to sit back and look casual.

“Everything alright?” asked Sophie. She fought to keep her face neutral.

Tsuki gave a short, quick nod. “Yes, yes, it’s…fine. My mentor is calling me into the lab. One of the experiments has…” she faltered and cleared her throat. “Nothing you care about. Nerd stuff, you know? But it means I have to go in for a couple hours. Will you be okay staying here on your own?” She bit her lip.

Sophie decided to throw her a bone. “Yeah, of course. You take care of whatever you need to do and I’ll study and, like, watch youtube or something.”

The Asian girl let out a sigh of relief. Not all of the tension left her shoulders, but most of it did. “Good. Help yourself to anything in the fridge. If you get tired, take my bed. And…Whatever you do, don’t try the shower. It’s not working and you could hurt yourself.”

Something about it seemed off. It was such a specific thing to avoid, especially for a pushover like Tsuki to mention it multiple times instead of just letting it go. Slowly, she nodded her understanding, though her curiosity sank its claws in her and dug in.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. Missing a shower won’t kill me.” She looked up and down Tsuki again. The implication was there, and the Asian withered.

“Well. Okay.” She grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder. She left the apartment in a hurry. A moment the deadbolt turned, and Sophie was completely alone.

Sophie picked up the book on the table. She tried to force herself to care about it, just enough to finish the reading for the night so the test the next day wouldn’t break her. She tried. But then she looked up towards the bathroom. The bathroom she was supposed to be careful about.

No one told Sophie Meyers no. She didn’t need permission for anything, and certainly not from a spineless nerd like Tsuki. The girl was sweet and knew her place most of the time, but this was different. What could be so dangerous about the shower? Did it only blast hot water? Big deal. Unless.

Her eyes lit up. She let out a high pitched giggle the moment the thought entered her mind and took root. No, there was probably a very good reason Tsuki wanted Sophie to avoid the shower. It probably had all of her sex toys in there!

Yeah, that had to be it. Tsuki was repressed as hell and tense. The poor girl probably masturbated three times a day just to avoid imploding from her course load and complete lack of a social life!

She was up in a flash and in the bathroom before the book hit the coffee table.

Once the light was on, Sophie’s excitement spiked. Her heart thudded in her chest. The shower was covered with a blue tarp. Even if it was broken, who would cover it like this? Who would even have a tarp handy? She crept forward.

The chance that it could’ve really been broken crossed her mind, but she ignored it in favor of the mental image of an entire row of dildos and vibrators. Maybe Tsuki was even naughty enough to have the ones from that site Bad Dragon. She was going to die when Sophie set them out on the coffee table! She’d promise to do all of Sophie’s homework in exchange for not telling. For the entire semester at least.

She pulled the tarp off slowly. It pooled on the floor, revealing an enclosed shower behind fully transparent glass. And inside was…

Nothing. Nothing interesting. There was a tub of shampoos and soaps, and a brush for her back. The only thing that was even a little bit weird in the shower was the red button stuck to the wall. It looked like one of those novelty easy buttons from staples that talked when you pressed it. Sophie opened the door and turned the shower on.

Cold water splashed over her hand, quickly warming up to the last position used. It didn’t get too hot or suddenly turn cold. It didn’t leak and flood the bathroom. There was nothing wrong with it, and there was nothing incriminating to be used against Tsuki. Sophie frowned.

Oh well. She really did need a shower, and getting one would be enough to tweak Tsuki’s nose about her warning. She looked over her shoulder. Her spare clothes were in her bag. There was a chance that Tsuki would be back soon, and Sophie could still be in the shower, or walking out naked. The mental image of shock on Tsuki’s face made her grin.

She peeled off her clothes and strew them around the bathroom like she owned the place. She didn’t know what it was about the girl that made her feel so damned bratty, but it was too fun to resist. Sophie did a little twirl, stopping to admire her reflection and wink at it.

She was almost a perfect opposite to Tsuki. She was just a couple inches shy of six foot. She had a toned, lithe, runner’s body that was tanned from hours of carefully sunning herself. Her small b cup breasts suited her thin frame. Her dark brown hair went past her shoulders and was currently tied in a ponytail. She was all legs and slender curves, and in love with everything about her appearance.

Sophie blew a kiss to her reflection and hopped in the shower.

For the next twenty minutes all worries about homework and life evaporated along with the steam. The simple pleasure of hot water beating against her body lifted her up and calmed her down. By the time she’d finished washing and turned the shower off, all thoughts of tormenting her nerdy friend were gone, replaced with quiet contentment.

Until she noticed the button again.

—- 3 —-

At that point Sophie had forgotten all about Tsuki’s warning about her shower. It was clearly safe, and the only weird thing about it was the stupid gimmick button that was stuck to the wall. She stared at it for a moment, considering just ignoring it and maybe ordering a pizza and watching Netflix. She was about to reach for the door when she paused.

Sophie hit the button.

“That was easy!” the button said in its tinny voice.

“Huh,” said Sophie. She shrugged and reached for the door.

The wall next to the button rippled.

Sophie froze.

Out of the wall came a long, strange, purple appendage. It grew out of nothing, pushing through the strange dark shimmer of the shower wall. It stretched towards her, forcing her against the door. It waved in the air slowly, like it was swaying to an underwater current. It was a dark purple tentacle, roughly four feet long and as thick around as her waist at the base, tapering off to as thick as her wrist at the tip.

“What the actual fuck,” said Sophie. “What? HOW?” Her heart pounded in her chest as the tentacle waved in the air, touching nothing but getting closer and closer to her. The tip landed on her shoulder with a wet plop. It stroked her shoulder and she let out a shriek.

It was warm. That surprised her more than anything. It looked like it should feel cold, rubbery, and fake. It wasn’t. It was as warm as the shower water had been. It was wet, but not slimy. As it stroked her shoulder and the suckers played over her skin, the closest comparison she could make was a kiss. It was like the purple tentacle was planting lingering kisses over her skin.

Then it hits her. “Oh, you gotta be fucking kidding me,” Sophie said. “No way. The nerdy fucking Asian school girl has a tentacle button in her shower!” Laughter wracked her body. She would’ve fallen to the floor in hysterics if her laughter didn’t attract the tentacle. The tip slid upwards to cup her face. Her skin tingled pleasantly where the suckers went.

“Oh, hell no,” she said. She slapped the tentacle away, mirth replaced with incredulity. Tsuki was not going to live this down. This was better than a shower full of sex toys, or finding out the girl was secretly dating another nerd girl. When Tsuki found out that Sophie knew her deviant secret, she’d do anything to keep it quiet.

She reached past the tentacle and hit the button again to get rid of the tentacle.

“That was easy!”

The tentacle didn’t disappear. The light in the bathroom wavered dark again. She felt warmth at her back, then it was pushing her away from the door. She whirled around to see a thicker, shorter red tentacle hanging from the door.

It reached for her.

Sophie backed away from it, right into the purple tentacle. It wrapped around her from behind, sliding itself between her breasts. It squeezed, gently but firmly and all of the suckers on her skin sucked and kissed at once. She shivered. She could feel her nipples harden.

“Oh god, what the fuck…” she shuddered with disgust, but her body had a much different reaction. The red tentacle reached for her, stretching across the shower to join the purple one. She slapped at it. It drooped for a second, then reached for her again. The purple one curled around her right breast, suckers kissing and nibbling at her flesh as it cupped it.

She slapped at that one too. It squeezed harder and harder until it made her cry out. One sucker found her hard brown nipple and latched on. She froze in place as it sucked and pulled on her sensitive nub. Her knees shook and she let out a low, throaty moan.

“Fuck…No, this isn’t funny anymore!” Sophie’s heart was in her throat and thudding so loudly she could hear nothing else. She slammed her hand against the button and pressed it repeatedly. “Please go please go please go…” she pleaded.

“That was – that was – that – that was easy!” The button mocked her as more tentacles were brought into existence, covering the surfaces of the shower.

They came in every color and size imaginable. Short yellow ones circled around her ankles, gripping her and holding her in place. A pink one came from the showerhead and wrapped around her throat, squeezing enough to cut off the air without completely choking her. The red one grabbed her arm and pulled her to the center of the shower while a couple of others waved in the air, waiting. Each one moved independently from each other, yet they seemed to have a common goal in controlling the lithe co-ed.

No matter how hard Sophie pulled and tried to break free, the tentacles held fast and squeezed her tighter and tighter with each new struggle. Panic made her thrash for her freedom, but it was futile. She was helpless; a slave to whatever the tentacles wanted to do to her. Fear gripped her, but it wasn’t alone.

For as disgusting and unnatural as it was, Sophie couldn’t deny the way the suckers made her skin tingle and want more. No matter how hard she fought to get away, it wouldn’t stop her from getting wet at the loss of control and the feeling of a hundred kisses across her body, moving and devouring more of her.

For better or worse the tentacles had her. A dark, depraved, repressed side of her wanted them back. She let out a sob as she realized her fate.

—- 4 —-

There was no doubt in Sophie’s mind that the tentacles were at least partially intelligent, or driven by something intelligent. It didn’t touch her like a weird animal feeling something new. No, the way it bound her and slid its suckers across her skin screamed knowledge and experience. There was no way the tentacles on her breasts sucking her nipples were an accident.

The two tentacles on her tits cupped them as a lover would. The warm limbs trailed up to caress her face as they slid down at a torturous speed. The slick suckers would latch on to her nipples and the entire thing would writhe in place, sucking hard enough to make her eyes roll into the back of her head and a low whine escape her mouth.

Then it’d drag downwards, letting her nipples out with a pop and a second of relief from that lusty sucking before the next, smaller sucker latched on. Each one came with a squeak and a buckle from her knees, which she struggled to keep together. Try as she might to hate it and stay silent, her traitorous cunt drooled from the treatment.

A fresh tentacle pressed against her pussy. Sophie’s legs gave out and she fell. The tentacles around her arms and ankles kept her up, suspended in the hot glass cage she was in. She frantically pressed her knees together. It only served to press the tentacle against her more as it undulated in place, grinding her sensitive slit against it.

“Oh god…Fuck fuck fuck!” Sophie squealed and fought against her bonds. They squeezed back, hard enough to her and force her to stop her fight. All while the three limbs wriggled against her tits and pussy. She clenched her eyes shut and cursed as her body ground against it involuntarily.

“That was easy. That was easy.”

Her eyes shot open. A bright blue monstrosity that looked like an anemone pressed against the button on the wall. Two more tentacles came into existence right in front of her. They were bright yellow and resembled a pair of long, slender snakes, right down to what looked like mouths on the end.
The anemone on the wall twitched and the button was pried off. It slid to the bottom of the shower, away from any of the swaying appendages.

“Please…Please stop,” Sophie moaned. The two newest tentacles moved in towards her mouth. Her eyes widened and she struggled again, turning her head to the side. Anything to get away from whatever it was they hand planned for her.

The tip of one opened up to show a wide maw. Inside it was ringed with tiny, needlelike teeth. She got to see it for just long enough for her blood to turn to ice before it launched itself at her. She felt a sharp prick on the side of her neck. Pain flared, then melted away into a hot throbbing in her neck and in her blood.

Her entire body suddenly felt loose and hot. The world shrunk down to the throbbing, going from her neck all through her body as she grew weaker and weaker. A moment later she realized it was her heartbeat she could feel, and the rest of the body throbbed in time.

The tentacle on her pussy flicked up and she opened her mouth to gasp. The other snake like tendril shot into her mouth, and those needles latched onto her tongue. She knew she should’ve been concerned or hurt, but the pain went away even more quickly this time, replaced with euphoria and a sense of her tongue being too big for her mouth.

Then the needles retracted and the orifice closed in on her tongue and more of the tentacles’ strange suction soothed it. It sucked in time with the throbbing, in time with the tentacles on her pussy and tits. What little awareness Sophie had outside of her body dimly noted out in sync it all was. She could feel the brace of tentacles all around her body moving to the beat, and her own body responded in time.

Sophie moaned around the tentacle, moving her tongue in and out of it and shuddering with delight at the way it bobbed up and down on her tongue as if her little pink muscle was a cock and the yellow tendril was doing its best to suck it off. It took one last long suck before detaching from her tongue with a wet pop.

The enthralled co-ed licked her lips. Her tongue and throat felt heavenly. “What…” she started, swallowing down a river of saliva. It didn’t help. It felt like she was drooling nonstop. “What have you done to me?”

There was something wrong with her voice. It sounded lower, huskier, and tinnier. It was almost as if there were two of her speaking simultaneously. She should’ve been panicking and fighting. She should’ve been worried. All she could focus on was the two yellow pythons hovering in front of her face while her bonds moved to her heartbeat.

The two tendrils closed up until those maws were but pinpoints. The tips swelled, becoming more bulbous, closer to a shape Sophie knew and knew well. They snaked forward and one pressed against her lips. Sophie obediently opened her mouth just enough for it to push forward.

She met it with her tongue, flicking over the head and welcoming it in. She puckered her lips and drew them across the head of the tendril like she would any other cock. Unlike a cock, it wasn’t too firm to move around in her mouth. It slid in and she opened herself up to it, running her tongue along the underside and sucking on it, unconsciously matching her heartbeat.

It filled her mouth bit by bit and she wanted more. More of that tendril to suck and please, more of the tentacle dutifully grinding against her sopping wet cunt as it enticed her to play with them. She sucked with a fervor she’d never known with a man. The tendrils swelled in her mouth, pausing before pushing against her throat.

Her cry of protest went unheard. The thick yellow head pressed slowly but insistently. She tried pulling away, but the purple tentacle around the back of her neck held her there as she was taken. They undulated, pressing her tongue down as it pushed one more time against her throat before slipping down into it.

Sophie’s entire body convulsed. She saw white as a full body tremor wracked her body. She clenched her legs together around that fleshy appendage as her body gave in and came at the intrusion in her throat. Her pussy and throat clenched and unclenched in unison again and again as her body betrayed her need to submit.

The tendril in her throat undulated in a wave, starting at her lips and going down her swallowing throat. Drool pooled from her mouth and dripped onto her covered tits as the tentacle violated her mouth with the same agonizingly steady beat.

Her orgasm drew back just enough to leave her wanting more, grinding her cunt against the tentacle and trying to trigger it again. She wanted it. She needed it. Sophie felt tears running down her face as she kept swallowing and swallowing and breathing as much as she could through her nose.

The second yellow python-like tentacle brushed up against her clit. She jumped and let out another muffled moan. She could feel it open up once more and take her needy nub into its maw and suck on it. Sophie humped forward against it frantically.

Then she felt the needle-like teeth extend and she had just enough time to realize what it meant before they sank into her clitoris. Agonizing heat flooded her pussy for an instant, only to make that throbbing throughout her body crest and peak. Her entire body arched and them crumpled like a marionette with its strings cut.

Sophie came again.

Whatever venom the twin snakes kept pumping into her body, Sophie would’ve sold her soul for more of it. She lay in the tentacles’ grasp helpless to the convulsions that wracked her body without end. The invader in her throat pushed forward until she could feel it halfway down to her stomach.

The orgasm didn’t end. It stayed at its peak, locked there and not dying, not finishing, not giving her the satisfaction she needed. She sobbed with every hint of breath she could afford to give, moaning and squealing around the tendril while she continued to drip her drool all over herself.

A new bulge pressed against her lips from the tendril. Sophie struggled to open her mouth wider to let it in while her body continued to shake. The bulge moved inward, against her pulsating throat and stopping. Sophie sucked and swallowed it down, and the dam burst.

The bulge went down her throat in one long motion until it got to the bulbous head. The tendril shuddered and unloaded its thick prize right down her throat.

Sophie’s orgasm finally continued. All conscious thought left her as she abandoned herself to the pleasure and the tendril’s thick load filled her stomach.

Ten, twenty, thirty seconds passed in a haze as she swallowed everything she could. Still more escaped from her lips and oozed down her chin. It was the thickest cum she’d ever drank and there was just so much of it. It took nearly a full minute before the tendril softened and withdrew.

Sophie gagged and some of it came up. Her head lolled forward and she saw it was a violent shade of purple. Still more felt like it was going to come up. Sophie breathed in and out and struggled to make her thoughts focus, her heart stop beating so fast, her tortured and teased pussy stop leaking.

“Gawwwd…” Her voice was hoarse, but there was very little pain. She moved her jaw in a circle. It hurt, but she seemed okay. Even the tentacles seemed to be quieting down. They slid away from her tits, which now had dark bruises over every visible surface. The ones around her arms slackened, and she fell to the ground.

Sophie rolled over to her side, shuddering. She didn’t want to move. Her entire body ached, and the throbbing where the twin tendrils bit wouldn’t stop. Sophie hugged herself, only to find her stomach distended.

She felt the swell of her stomach and her hand jerked away with a start. She looked down and gasped. It looked like she was three months pregnant. She swallowed and with horror realized that she was full and close to puking with the creature’s seed. Now that it was over, revulsion took over again.

Sophie forced herself to roll over, onto her hands and knees. The tentacles were already stirring from their lethargy. This was her chance. If she was ever going to get away from them, she had to act fast.

The co-ed slowly turned around. She slid her knees along the still wet ground carefully. She didn’t think the tentacles could see, but they sure as hell reacted to noise. Most of them were two feet up. If she kept low, she could slip out before they could grab her.

She reached forward for the door and paused. The thick red tentacle was already angling towards her. Sophie surged forward. She grabbed a hold of the door and threw it open. It was now or never. Sophie gathered her strength and leapt.

A tentacle wrapped around her leg and stopped her. The air went out of her the second she crashed on the ground.

“Oh god! Oh god no no no no,” she whispered as more gathered around her arms and legs again, eager for a round two. They pulled her up by her limbs, suspending her once more. This time she was face down. This time the tentacles pulled her legs apart, exposing her.

“Please, just let me go,” Sophie begged. Tears welled up in her eyes. “Please.” Her body cried out for more, but she wanted nothing more than to get away. She should’ve listened to Tsuki. She shouldn’t have gone in the shower just to spite her.
From behind, the two snakelike appendages pressed up against her pussy, writhing around as it sought her hole out.

“No! No!”

They pressed in together.

—- 5 —-

Sophie didn’t know how much time had passed. She was barely able to think, let alone about anything as complicated as the passage of time. After a while, the tentacles had become comfortable. Being suspended wasn’t so bad. She felt more or less weightless as the twin tendrils repeatedly pounded her well used pussy.

She’d lost count of how many times they’d twirled together to force a thicker, ribbed member to fuck her with. It was clear they were driven by something intelligent, something with a sick sense of humor that wanted to play with Sophie and overwhelm her past her breaking point. That breaking point had been at least an hour ago, as far as she could tell.

Her entire body shook as the tendrils writhed within her, filling her up all the way to her deepest depths and grinding against it. Sophie shuddered and her body weakly tried to move against it. She didn’t have the energy to fuck. She barely had the energy to keep her eyes open and try to avoid dripping copious amounts of violet tinted drool onto the floor.

The rhythm never died. Her heartbeat had slowed down, and the fucking slowed with it. Her pussy was filled with a thump then emptied with a thump, only to be refilled again. Squelching was the only sound in the bathroom as the tentacles displaced old cum as they worked to fill her again with their seemingly never ending load.

She didn’t care. She wanted it. Each time those yellow pythons shuddered and filled her again, her entire body would convulse and pure bliss would white out her world. It was only when she could feel cum dripping from her that she’d come down for it and fall further slack in the tentacles’ grasp. Sophie’s bloated stomach dragged along the floor of the shower.

It was what was meant to happen. She belonged there, being filled and bred for its pleasure. Nothing else mattered. She idly sucked on the end of a small green tentacle, wishing it too would cum for her. Just fill her mouth and make her gag…

Sophie shuddered and rocked her body back to meet the constant thrusts. She let out a low, pleased moan. Her pussy was so sore, but she needed it. She needed it so badly.

“Oh my god…”

Sophie lifted her head up. Though it was blurry behind the fogged glass of the shower, there was no mistaking Tsuki standing in the doorway, horror on her face.

“Oh my god, Sophie, no…” She crept forward, covering her mouth with her hand. “I told you not to go in here! I told you it was dangerous!” Tsuki’s voice wavered.

Sophie didn’t know why. She was right where she meant to be. She slurped loudly around the green tentacle in her mouth, tongue dancing with the moving tip and feeling the sucker on her swollen, throbbing tongue.

Tsuki rushed in the bathroom and went through the drawers. Whatever she was looking for was nowhere to be seen. She tore her bathroom apart.

The tendrils in Sophie’s pussy paused with a shudder. They knew. It was the only explanation Sophie had. They knew what was about to happen, so they doubled their efforts. They disengaged from each other and doubleteamed her the old fashioned way.

One tendril would withdraw right as the other pressed forward. They stretched her out and picked up the pace. They pounded her harder and harder as the rest of the tentacles waved around furiously, warding off the unwelcome invader who was out to ruin their fun.

“Hold on, I promise I’ll help!” Tsuki cried out.

Sophie gagged around the tentacle in her mouth. This was too much. This was it. They were going to fuck her to death. She was going to die cumming from a penetrating alien monstrosity, and she was going to love every fucking second of it. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head.

The twins were a blur, moving in and out and keeping her on the absolute edge while the other tentacles lashed. More than a few hit her body, but she was beyond pain. Every stinging slap against her bloated, used body was ecstasy.

“Aha!” Tsuki held up a similar button, painted black. She slammed her fist against it.

The tendrils thrust one more time, expelling their last load into Sophie’s body. She clamped down, entire body failing her as she tensed up tight enough to snap, then fell limp. She fell to the bathroom floor, feeling the fresh batch of cum spilling out of here. There was simply no room left inside of her. Though the tentacles were now gone, the entire bottom of the shower was a dark purple pool from the monster’s seed, refusing to go down into the drain.

The shower door opened. Tsuki knelt down beside Sophie, wincing at the disgusting feel of the hot, thick cum against her knees. She reached out and gently touched Sophie’s shoulder.

“I am so sorry. I am so, so sorry! I would’ve been back here sooner, but…” Tsuki swallowed hard. Her voice was failing her now, and she struggled to breathe through the burning in her eyes.

“I promise we’ll make this right. We’ll make this right, and you’ll be okay. Just…god, please forgive me for this.”

Sophie’s head lolled over to stare somewhere near Tsuki. Her warm brown eyes were glazed over, and had a new purple tint to them, not unlike the pool she was lying in. She licked her lips and spoke, slowly.

“Fucking…Perve. I’m…telling…Everyone.” She let out a breathless, pained laugh before the entire world went mercifully black. Her last thought before she passed out was of wishing she’d found that button even sooner.

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