Al Monte stepped out of the elevator onto the thirty-first floor of the Portland Plaza building. He found himself in the plush lobby of a legal office, richly appointed in subtle shades of gray, with matching ultramodern furniture and modern art prints on the walls.
No, correct that, Al thought. Make that modern art originals, and expensive ones, too. Shit, this is going to cost me a fortune! Not that Al Monte didn't have a fortune, he was a well-to-do Portland businessman who had made his wad with a chain of liquor stores, but the prospects of blowing a good portion of his cash on this divorce was not something that sat well with him. And then he saw her, and for a few moments his troubles didn't seem to be quite so pressing.
She was, without a doubt, the hottest bottled blonde he'd ever clapped eyes on! She had a pair of startling blue-green eyes, a pair of sharply up-thrust boobs that were barely restrained within the tight confines of her dress, and a smile that took Al Monte's breath away-and he couldn't remember that having happened in a long, long time!
"May I help you?" the girl behind the reception desk said, in a cool, utterly professional voice. She was pleased by the way that Al Monte's eyes were practically popping out of his head glued to her, especially her boobs. Without him for a moment becoming aware of it, she had to restrain a giggle. This guy's too easy, she thought, and then she demurely lowered her eyes from his gaze, which also provided a chance for her to focus her eyes on his pants and to watch his crotch swell perceptibly. In her mind she quickly totted up whether this was a fish that was worth going after, and then decided that he probably was.
Ah," Al said, "I have an appointment with one of your lawyers. Mr. Kuhlman?"
"And your name sir?" Efficiency and warmth, and not faked. With some surprise Al realized that here, sitting before him, was a miracle of modern business: a truly receptive receptionist. And he wondered: What besides clients was she good at receiving? He would have been quite amazed to know that she was thinking essentially the same thing....
Two strangers, separated by a few feet of carpeting, a few millimeters of extremely thin clothing, a few feet of desk, were sharing the same fantasy. He, of sliding the hard sausage of his swollen cock between those scarlet lips, those perfect white teeth; she, of the taste of his quivering veiny rod, pumping and splattering jism all over her tongue and into her throat. But this time, unlike many other times with many other men, her fingers did not reach out and slide down the zipper on Al Monte's trousers. They did not reach into his pants and extract his stiff member from within and pull it forth. Instead they pressed a small plastic button and lifted an ivory plastic telephone handset.
"Carmine?" she said, in that same cool tone that would have left a pat of butter unmelted on her tongue, "tell Mr. Kuhlman that Mr...." Those incredible blue-green eyes gazed up at the businessman standing in front of her.
"Monte. Al Monte," he said, and smiled.
"Mr. Monte is here to see him." She listened for a moment, then said, "Okay," and sat down the phone. "Mr. Monte," she said, teasing him with laughing bedroom eyes, "please have a seat...."where you can watch me wiggle my titties a bit, just to watch you sweat, she added to herself-"and Mr. Kuhlman will see you shortly."
Al took a seat in a Naugahyde chair and pretended not to stare as the receptionist did what amounted to a perfectly conscious little sitting dance of moving things about her desk and leaning over to show her cleavage. Already Al Monte was considering how he could maneuver his way to get in the sack with the secretary, what his initial play for her might consist of, what might entice a girl like her into getting involved with a man who was at least twenty years older than her, and what it would be like once he had enticed her into screwing him. Undoubtedly she had boyfriends by the bunch, maybe even a husband, although he had made sure to note that she wasn't wearing a wedding ring. Perhaps he could wrangle a date for lunch, later. That wasn't much of a commitment, and maybe she might even go for it, just to check him out, to see if some deeper involvement-like deeper, right between the legs might be a good idea. And then, once Al had demonstrated to her that he was well fixed financially, and had a lot to offer a young chick like her, maybe he could show her another area he was pretty capable in, namely some bedroom ballet. He glanced up at the blonde secretary again, but she wasn't looking at him, just working over some papers. Shit, he would have loved to get his hands on those awesome tits, get his dick into her undoubtedly tight pussy.. Here was a living, breathing wet dream come true, and Al Monte was in no mood for waking up He was on the verge of breaking into a sweat by the time William St. John Kuhlman, Esquire came to pluck his pigeon from the waiting room.
* * *
It was about fifteen minutes and several dozen transferred phone calls later when Johnny Dearer came by.
While the lawyers and clients of the firm came and went in four hundred dollar three-piece suits and foreign cars with unpronounceable names, Johnny, just a stock jockey, was in jeans and an Oregon plaid flannel shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal his descendent-of-lumberjack muscles. He drove a dilapidated pickup with a spring that stuck out of the passenger side of the seat and jabbed you in the ass when you sat down, that was Johnny Dearer's style. While the receptionist didn't think about him much, when she did she pigeonholed Johnny as a 'nice guy'-for a redneck, that is.
He sat down the case of photocopy paper he had been carrying on a corner of her desk, and with an exaggerated John Wayne drawl asked, "Gonna let me buy you lunch today, Cheri?"
She thought about it, but only for an instant. He was kind of cute, in a woodsy sort of way, but he really wasn't the kind of guy she went for. She just couldn't imagine Johnny Dearer behind the wheel of a Ferrari, or gambling in Monte Carlo. That was the lifestyle to which she would have liked to become accustomed. She wasn't sure that she ever would, but a girl could dream, couldn't she? Even though Oregon was nice to look at, she was hungry to move on, and hungry for more than that, too. She wanted excitement, and money, and men; lots of men in various shapes and designer colors! And so Cheri, even despite herself, thought for a moment of adding Johnny to her collection, but then she discarded the idea. She didn't want to get involved with some monogamous moralistic macho lumberjack type who would go into a raving shit fit if he ever saw you looking at another guy. And Johnny's style in bed, well, she could just imagine how that was. Maybe his dick would be big-Hell, everything else about him was big-but she could just imagine that all-star wrestling match that screwing him would be! He'd be in and out and you'd have a cunt full of cream before you could say "God Bless America!" No, Cheri didn't think that Johnny Dearer was quite what she was looking for in a man. At least not for the moment.
"No, Johnny," she said with genuine regret, "I don't think it would be a good idea." And then she smiled so sweetly, so innocently, that the bottom dropped out of Johnny Dearer's stomach and his dick felt like somebody had put a stranglehold on it.
The macho, true to form, recovered his composure and bounded back with a shrug and a leering smile. He picked up the box, winking, and said, "Get it while you can, Babe, this offer ain't going to be around forever...."
"I'll be sure and keep that in mind," she laughed as he slipped through the door behind her.
A moment later the elevator bell chimed, the door slid open, and, as happened regularly each morning, Heaven stepped out.
Heaven in a uniform, California blonde hair, blue eyes, a deep natural tan, and a lifeguard's physique. In the Air Express Messenger's uniform of snappy, sharp-looking shirt and cute short pants showing off sexy muscular legs, Michael Blade was Cheri's idea of Heaven. Now, if only he had money....
It happened nearly every day. He'd rush in off the elevator with a milkcrate filled with packages and her heart would stop. As soon as Cheri saw him her nipples would start to ache, coming suddenly to attention like soldiers on parade within the clinging cups of her bra, and her panties would get real damp and squishy. It had been going on for months and months, and now he hardly even needed to speak. The fact was that it was getting to the point where Cheri sometimes regretted it when Heaven stepped out of that elevator.
"Fifteen minutes?" Michael asked, his blue eyes dazzling her, even against her will, with sexual heat.
Just the shape, the posture, the attitude of his body made her want to fuck, but today she wasn't sure it was possible.
"Michael," she said, "I don't think I can ... My break is at two...."
"Can you get your replacement down here earlier?"
Against her better judgment Cheri surrendered to the aching in her crotch. "I'll try...."
"See, I'm running late." He said nothing more, Michael had never really been long on words, but for an electric instant he placed his hand softly on top of hers, nothing more.
When Carmine came behind the desk to replace her, Cheri practically ran through the doors behind her, down the filing cabinet-lined hall to the freight elevator.
Angelo Bandini saw her coming.
He sat at the battered desk in the service dock bay, sweating into the bright red company blazer with the monogrammed "PP" of Portland Plaza on its breast pocket, and stared with utter and complete boredom into the three tiny black and white televisions of the security camera displays. Some squeaking babble was coming over the walkie-talkie on the desk beside him.
Before him, backed up to the loading dock, were two delivery vans; the old-fashioned bulk of a UPS truck and the sleek and shining new colors and lines of an Air Express Messenger van.
The freight elevator opened and a tiny figure hurried across one of the monitors. Recognizing the regular visitor, Angelo straightened up, unconsciously running the fingers of his right hand through his thinning hair.
Now there was Angelo's idea of a woman, or rather a girl.
Cheri, breathless and excited, came around the corner into the service bay. She slowed her step to a sexy wiggle and then slinked toward Angelo. With a sly, conspiratorial smile she said, "Hi, Angelo," and gave him a slight hug and a peck on the cheek. "Not a word, remember?"
"Have I let you down yet?" he said with mock hurt. Damn, what that little girl did to Angelo!
Cheri shook her head, a halo of brilliant white blonde swirling around the gestured "No." Then, with another smile she turned and dashed for the Air Express van.
It was several minutes later when Michael's figure flashed across Angelo's monitors. "If I had a chick like that," Angelo muttered under his breath, "I sure as fuck wouldn't keep her waiting the way that arrogant sonofabitch does...."
Angelo glanced up and Michael gave him a cocksure smile as he walked past him. Angelo responded with a nod, and then Michael disappeared into the back of the van. It was for that fox Cheri that Angelo even bothered keeping a lookout, it sure wasn't for that arrogant shit that she liked to fuck most mornings. Well, even if Angelo didn't have youth or looks on that bastard, there was one thing that that ass-hole didn't know about....
Cheri had made a space for them amid the packages, a blanket Michael kept handy spread out on the van's floor. Michael's first view of her would have taken any man's breath away. She had pulled her panties off and hiked her dress up around her lush blushing pink hips. She lay spread-eagled on the floor of the van, propped up on her elbows. Fishnet white hose, lacy garters, and a beautiful snatch of dark brown, the strands of hair arranged prettily around her pussycrack, awaited him like some incredible Christmas present inside of the van.
Michael took one long, lingering look at the vision on the floor of the van, then unbuckled his belt and dropped his drawers. Cheri swallowed and her temperature felt like it went up ten degrees as she saw Michael standing there. His big, youthful cock angled out, almost hard, from the scramble of blonde hair at his crotch. Michael stood there for a long moment. He took his prick in his hand and frigged it a few times, hardening it, preparing it for Cheri. Then he lowered himself to the floor of the van and walking on his knees across the blanket he came up between her legs. He bent down and ran kisses first up her hot thighs, nuzzling his face into that dark, fragrant muff, pressing his nose and his mouth into the soft wetness of her pussycrack. Then he reached up and slid down the bodice of Cheri's low-cut dress, her tits dawning above the cups like two big moons. Her nipples popped out pearly pink and big, the coloration of the silver dollar-sized aureoles shading imperceptibly into the firm flesh that surrounded them. Her nipple spikes were erect and bobbing, prettily clefted at the ends.
Michael's mouth found her nipples and kissed the surrounding coins of pink until they dimpled. He sucked and pulled at her nipples with his teeth while Cheri's fingers worked overtime on his stiff, quivering rod, the foreskin pulled back to expose the bloated purplish bulb of his cockhead. She lay down flat, and with her hand guided his quickly swelling prick into the wet, splayed salmon of her pussylips. Michael gasped as his prick slid into Cheri's cunt channel, and he ran his tongue through the deep valley of her chest, up her throat, to fix like a hungry parasite on her open mouth.
Cheri pulled her mouth away from his, gasping. "Remember, Michael; no marks, no hickeys, or anything like that...."
Michael grunted an affirmative and then clamped his mouth back on Cheri's. Their tongues wrestled hotly and wetly as Michael slowly probed her, grinding his prick into her crotch, making Cheri purr with pleasure and the van rock back and forth on its wheels.
Michael knew that they didn't have a lot of time, so he made quick, sweet work of fucking Cheri. He drove his prick into her tight pussy just as hard as he could, while his fingers scrabbled and flailed over her firm tits, sucking up as much sensation as he could through his fingertips. He slammed his pelvic bone against hers, arching and angling his cock to achieve the maximum sensation, swirling it into her, withdrawing it almost all the way out to linger at the door to her pussy, to taste the cool air there, then to slide home again and again. Cheri was whimpering out her pleasure and bucking her hips frantically. Her kisses were frantic, too, her fingers clawing at his sweaty ass-cheeks, descending to friction and dawdle at the hairy perimeter of Michael's ass-hole.
He pumped and rammed into her, his breaths coming like a rapidly accelerating freight train, huffing and chuffing and pile driving his boner into Cheri's hot, humid hole until, finally, all there was, was the wet pivot of cunt and cock slamming against each other, the mixing of blonde and brown fur, the thoughtless final strokes as Michael went gasping over the edge.
Shuddering and spasming Michael arched back and let splatter his hot jism to rocket into Cheri's grasping cunt. He continued to pump, draining the dregs of his juice into her, unwilling to stop, unwilling to surrender those final moments of bliss.
He kissed her sweat-moistened hairline, her eyes, whispering endearments that he almost meant in her ear. Slowly he rose and ran his hands down the length of her body, feasting his fingers, his eyes a final time for that day. Still woozy from his orgasm Michael held a package-restraining bar and pulled himself to his feet. Without removing his eyes from Cheri's sweat-plastered cunt, his cum still dribbling out of his rapidly-softening cock, he reached down and pulled up his uniform shorts.
Michael took one deep breath, then turned, picked up his electronic clipboard, noted his next assignment and slipped out of the van without uttering a word.
Shit, that was the way it always went with Michael, Cheri thought a little sadly. It was wonderful while it lasted, but it always turned out to be disappointing. She was still dizzy from that whirlwind of a screw as she slipped her panties back on and stood up, slipping her tits back into their restraining bra cups.
"Maybe he can get off that fast, but I can't...." she said to herself peevishly. She was not looking forward to returning to her desk unsatisfied.
A moment later a gorgeously disheveled Cheri stepped out of the van, still adjusting her clothes, patting at her hair to deal with loose strands.
Angelo was sitting on the edge of his desk when she emerged. He slipped off the edge of the desk, standing with it behind him, sucking in his stomach to deal with his slight spare tire. Cheri saw him, and then their eyes met. She turned on a smile that, to Angelo, looked like it had ten thousand volts backing it up, and she floated toward him. Blonde hair floated around her radiant face and she was smiling a smile that only lovers think they know. With a start Angelo realized that wasn't the look of a sexual afterglow, that was the look of a broad that was hot to trot! Whatever had happened, it didn't look like that shitbrain Blade had given her enough of it. Angelo hoped against hope that she was going to give him the chance to.
Cheri had to admit she was a little confused. Michael could deliver just about the most fantastic quickie in the world, and just looking at him drove her nuts with desire, but that damned three to five minute shit was driving her insane! She just couldn't get her rocks off, if chicks got their rocks off, in that short of a period of time. If it was so fucking wonderful, like he said, how come it couldn't last a little longer than a fucking top forty song? Oh, well, there was always Bob! That was probably the reason she was particularly horny this morning. Bob, out of town for a week on an assignment, hadn't been there to service her when she needed it at night. And then she noticed Angelo, and glanced over at him. He had just slipped off the corner of the desk. He looked so funny, mouth half-open, obviously getting off on the look of a woman who had just been hit by a speeding fuck machine! Angelo, she thought sweetly, that sexy Sicilian ... Angelo!
The thought hit her like a revelation from the Pope and she sucked her breath in with the inspiration. Suddenly those fingers of heat were again crawling through her pussy, moving upwards and making her nipples go all sensitive....
She approached Angelo and then put her hands lightly on his shoulders. Hey, Angelo wasn't that bad ... Maybe he was a family man, and maybe he was getting a bit thick around the middle, but Cheri bet that that man was an animal when it came to bed!
"I think you need a kiss," she said, "to keep those sexy lips sealed...." Angelo couldn't have been more delighted as their lips met, as her tongue probed wetly out to wrestle with his, and then he was slightly startled as he felt her hand crawling down to come to rest over the half-hard prick embedded in the crotch of his work pants. Cheri squeezed the thick, gristly tube of Angelo's prick through his trousers and felt it start to harden in her talented fingertips. With lips still locked onto his she slid the zipper down and then fished into his underwear to draw forth his cock. Angelo's dong was getting harder by the second, pulsing and jerking in anticipation as she cradled it in her fingers. Shit! It was a big mother-fucker, thick and laced with purplish veins, the big, purplish head looking like it was ready to lunge out and bite her on the cunt!
"Shit, little girl, you can't do that in here!" Angelo bleated, his face turning as red as his uniform blazer.
"Nonsense," Cheri said, her tone not unlike the one she employed in her secretarial duties to calm distraught male clients, "you keep your eyes glued to the little screens and I'll do the rest...."
Then Cheri went down on her knees, looking almost worshipful as she held Angelo's prick in her hand and cupped his hairy, taut balls with the other one. The big purplish head of his dong glistened, staring at her with its single eye, the faintest trace of the jism to come smeared across the blunt snout end. Cheri worked Angelo's hot, throbbing balls with her gentle fingertips, and at the same time slowly slid her mouth over the head of his dick. To Angelo it felt like he was sliding a sizzling poker into a pool of cool cream. Angelo started to slowly pump his ass and hips, using Cheri's lips as a hungry cunt, sliding it deep into her mouth, all the way to the back of her welcoming throat.
Angelo tried to reach into her dress, to pull out one of those fabulous jugs that he had dreamed about for so long, but Cheri mumbled around his dickhead, "No, darling. Keep your eyes on those screens. You don't want us both fired, do you?"
Angelo just kept plunging that rod deep into her throat, savoring the feeling, savoring the look of Cheri's lips distended around it, sucking away at it to beat the band. He slid his fingers into her hair, using his hands to lever her mouth harder over his dong, driving it in and out with increasing rapidity, his breathing speeding as he drove his boner in and out between her lips. Driving his prick harder and harder, he grunted his pleasure, bringing himself closer and closer to that moment when....
Then, suddenly, Angelo was arching, stiffening, gasping out his pleasure. Cheri was squeezing his balls, milking them, and then it felt like Angelo's cock was swelling within her mouth and he was rocking and bellowing with the bliss of his cum. Great gouts of his juice rocketed hot into her mouth, dashing over her lips and teeth to dribble down her chin. She took a moment to Hoover out the last of his juice from his prick, swallowing it with relish, pulling back to scour the shining head of his prick with her tongue.
She stood up and stretched, her hand gently massaging his shrinking dick. With her other hand she wiped the dribble of cum from her face. Then she stood up and kissed Angelo on the cheek, gave his dick one last parting squeeze, and turned to walk back to the service elevator.
Well, she hadn't had the opportunity to cum with Angelo, either, but she did feel a little relief. Besides, she was going to be seeing Bob tonight, and maybe that would afford her the kind of release she was just aching for....
II
Cheri was again back at her desk and ready to return to her secretarial duties, her hair brushed into glossy platinum waves, putting the finishing touches to her makeup with a tiny compact and puff. Well, it wasn't perhaps the face she would have chosen if she could have had any one in the world, she thought, looking at the woman reflected in the small, round mirror, but at least the men didn't seem to have any complaints. Oh, sure, she might have been a little cuter if her nose took a slight upward lilt, and she would have preferred it if her blonde hair hadn't have by necessity come from a bottle, but all in all she thought she had gotten a pretty decent shake when they gave out looks.
Cheri heard muffled conversation coming from the door behind her, and she got her compact into the purse underneath her desk just as the lawyer and his client exited the inner offices.
"Just leave everything in my hands, Mr. Monte," William St. John Kuhlman said, smiling cheesily, leading the other man out of his sanctum, "and if any of those shysters that are representing your wife call you up again, just hang up, or better yet, tell them to go fuck themselves, if you'll pardon my French. If you're sure you can find witnesses that are willing to testify that Mrs. Monte was seeing this ... this Mr. Trimble ... who works at the health spa ... then we should be able to hold our own when it comes to an adjudication of the dividing up of.
"The spoils?" Al Monte said, wincing, "The loot?" He looked back at the lawyer to get his answer.
"Your assets, I mean to say." Kuhlman led Monte past Cheri's desk, but it seemed like Al Monte's eyes were only willing to follow under protest. Al Monte had wanted to get at least one more eyeshot of the pretty blonde that he had seen moments before sitting behind the desk, and all through the negotiations in the office with the lawyer he had been trying to come up with a battle plan for getting the young woman to go out with him.
Kuhlman paused, looked at Monte, then looked at Cheri. "I see you've met our secretary, Ms. Hall," the lawyer smirked, his lip turning upward in a queer tick. "She's an angel, an absolute angel, but," Kuhlman said, not even attempting to keep the remark from Cheri, "You can't imagine how many-times I've tried to get her to spread those angelic wings for me without any success ... Every man that comes in here seems to think that our Cheri might be available. I wonder why that is?" I know for sure that she's never been willing to put out any of that sweet stuff for me!"
"If she's so fucking available," Monte said, "then how come you've never gotten anywhere with her, like you said, Kuhlman? You sure that's not just some wishful thinking on your part?"
Cheri appreciated the chivalrous defense, even if it was coming from Monte, who wasn't exactly the kind of guy she would choose if she was in the market for Sir Galahads. "Thank you, Mr. Monte," Cheri said, turning away from both of them to open up an appointment book and to make some corrections in it.
When Kuhlman returned from escorting Monte to the elevator he paused by Cheri's desk. "Why, Ms. Hall," he said, his tone dripping with superiority and condescension, "I thought you might appreciate me, well, playing you up to one of our clients, Mr. Monte. One of our rich clients...."
Cheri raised her eyes from the appointment book, and they met Kuhlman's with an impact that gave him a start. Somehow the warm, oceanic blue-green had seemed to take on the characteristic of icy jade over the past few minutes. "I can get my own dates, thank you, Mr. Kuhlman. Besides, I would have thought that Monte was more your type...."
Kuhlman's face was expressionless, but his complexion was gradually turning livid. He stood for a long moment, his face totally unmoving, then his lip made its characteristic nervous tick. Without a word he turned and departed through the door to the inner offices.
Cheri chuckled, glad to have scored one on the despised Kuhlman, to get him back for all of the gallons of bullshit that he had laid on her during her otherwise pleasant employment at Giacomini, Jones and Zarkov, and then she heard someone else chuckling, as well.
The tall woman approaching did not seem to wear the mantle of femininity with complete ease. Her face was beautiful, almost too beautiful for the severe style of clothing and hair that she favored. Her dark brunette hair, so dark that it verged on black, was pulled back tightly from a widow-peaked forehead, emphasizing her large, dark brown eyes and high cheekbones. Her chuckle provoked the barest sneer from her lips, a sneer that Cheri had seen before and knew to say that men were the lowest creatures on Earth, lower by far than worms. The woman was dressed in a crisply-tailored business suit with an intricate and expensive ebony cameo clasped at the collar of her unfrilled white blouse. In her hand was a monogrammed alligator briefcase, befitting her profession as a lawyer. Make no mistake, the woman that was standing in front of her was beautiful, but with a beauty that almost reached a harshness of perfection, jarring the viewer's eye rather than pleasing it.
"Nice going with that fucking slime Kuhlman...." she laughed icily, placing her alligator briefcase on the floor beside Cheri's desk. "That prick! When is he going to quit coming on to you, anyway? I should have thought that you had made it clear to him by now that you think he's a piece of shit! Hell, everybody does, including his clients! You notice that? And you should hear the kind of bullshit he--likes to sling about you when you're not around...."
Cheri's brow puckered with this new concern. "He what? That sonofabitch! Tell me what he's been saying, Veronica...."
"Nothing, really," the lawyer said, "just trying to stir up shit with the other lawyers in the office. A bunch of bullshit about how you got hired for your looks and not for your typing speed or your ability to take dictation, just trivial fucking crap like that. Not to worry, though; you know as well as I do that everyone else hates that sonofabitch just like you and I, and they know that you're the best receptionist that this firm has ever had. The old man; Giacomini, that is, says this fucking place would fall apart without you! Christ, he'd fire Kuhlman before he ever thought of getting rid of you, love.
"He said that?" Well," she said grimly, still heated over Kuhlman, "I'm glad to have his ... and your ... vote of confidence, anyway."
Veronica smiled, and then she was the second person that day to lean over and place her hand on Cheri's in a gesture of reassurance.
"Yeah, kid," she said, "you've got my vote. And if you put some arsenic in that bastard Kuhlman's coffee, I'll defend you in court for free." Both women shared a chuckle.
"By the way, I meant to ask you ... How is your painting coming along? I really liked those abstract studies you showed me a few weeks back...."
Cheri had to pause for a moment. It took a second to turn her thoughts away from the concerns of business backbiting and toward acrylic paints and brushes. "Not all that great, I have to admit," she said, "I told you I have a couple of paintings being exhibited at the frame shop near my house, didn't I? Well, I haven't sold anything lately, which is the main thing that I need to have happen. What bothers me is, I just can't seem to get the human figure right ... I've tried and I've tried but my compositions with people always end up looking a little stiff...."
"Really?" Veronica said. "The human figure? Why didn't you say something about that before? That's my specialty! Before I went to law school I spent a couple of summers studying art in Paris, and they gave us hours and hours of figure studies! Give me a nice nude and I'll stroke that brush right along with the best of them! Listen, what are you doing tonight, anyway? I've got a legal brief I really should be fucking around with, but if you're free I could come over and give you some private tutoring. How does that sound, Cheri?"
Cheri paused for a second. "You'd help me out with my figures? Really? That sounds great ... Bob is out of town on an assignment, taking some shots of the political convention, so he'll be out of our hair ... What would you say to eight o'clock?"
"It's a date," Veronica said. She bent over and picked up her briefcase. "Tonight, then." She smiled at Cheri, and then walked out of the room.
Cheri could not help but watching Veronica's ass as it fluxed in the tight suit as she exited.
If I were a lez, she thought, that ass of Veronica's would be mighty enticing ... Cheri paused for a moment, thinking. Hell, who's to say that I'm not? It's not like the thought never occurred to me or that a chick never turned me on! Hell, the shrinks all say that every woman has a little man in her, every guy a part of him that thinks like a chick. Maybe I just work hard to keep those thoughts down! Now, Veronica, on the other hand ... Well, I've heard rumors that she'll take a wet pussy over a hard cock, any day. So what if she is butch? Does it matter? There have been a few times when I thought she was coming on to me, but I never really knew how to react ... What if, say, she put the make on me when Bob was away? How would I respond to that? Would I go along with it? Would I enjoy it? Now that's a question! And would there be anything to lose, after all, if I went ahead and let her fuck my brains out? Probably not!
Just thinking about the prospect of fucking another woman was making Cheri get on edge. She wasn't sure if that tense electric feeling was nerves, or if those kind of thoughts really did turn her on! If Veronica did put a move on her she would probably....
Well, there had been that time with her housemate Betty ... Cheri sure as fuck knew how she had reacted then! It had happened a year or so ago, when they had first moved into the big Victorian-style house outside of town. It had been an exciting time and they had both been so proud, so fucking excited about moving into that house! It had started off damn innocently, and it had progressed from there until....
Betty and she had only been living in the house for two days and that had been the first opportunity since moving to sit down, have a glass of wine, and to relax. They had been talking about their boyfriends, as they often did, and that subject had naturally progressed to the topic of sex and what kind of lays their guys were. Both of them were willing to be frank about their experiences, and that frankness, of itself, had been a kind of turn-on. They had both admitted that, as far as sexual technique went, there were a few things about the way their boyfriends performed that they might change if given the chance. Maybe the wine coolers they were drinking had had something to do with it, but both of them were feeling quite adventurous after a while, and a little playful, too.
"You say that Jerry--likes your titties, huh?" Cheri said, smiling, leading Betty onward. "Well, how much does he like them?"
"Well," Betty said, " he said he does, but then you know how guys are ... They'll say just fucking anything to talk you into the sack. I guess my tits aren't all that small, after all...." Betty slowly opened the buttons of the shirt she was wearing, one by one, and then peeled her shirt off, showing off her tits to the other woman. Cheri had never seen her tits naked before, only catching an occasional glimpse of them when Betty wandered around the house in sheer pajamas. Betty took her fingers and massaged her breasts, rubbing the nipples, making the tips of them visibily harden and stand up. "They're not all that small, are they, Cheri?"
Actually her tits were quite small, but not unattractive. Their outstanding features were her literally huge nipples. They must have been the size of tin can lids, and were colored a sweet brownish-honey that gradually faded into the surrounding flesh color at the edges.
"Actually, Betty," Cheri said, "you have very nice-looking tits. I'm not going to kid you and tell you that they're huge, but they're pretty as hell...."
Betty tweaked her nipples with her fingertips, making the outer edges of the aureoles pucker.
"You really, truly think so? Jerry plays a little rough with my nips, you know. They're a lot more sensitive than he realizes, and that biting and pinching stuff can be a little much if he gets carried away while we're screwing."
Cheri couldn't take her eyes off of those tits, off of those big nipples. In the spirit of participation, Cheri slipped off her tanktop to reveal the big double mounds that lay beneath it.
"What I want to know," Cheri said, "is do my tits sag too much? Sure they're big, but sometimes I worry about that...."
"Sag? Are you kidding? Shit, Cheri, you've got some real skinmag-ranking boobs there, girl! You could be a centerfold in any stroke-book I ever ran across!" Betty reached out and, without thinking about it, ran her fingertip around the perimeter of Cheri's big pink nipple, watching the edge of it dimple and Cheri shiver with a little wave of pleasure. "I'll bet Bob just loves those big knockers of yours...."
"Well," Cheri said, "Like you said, guys will say anything just so long as they can get their rocks off. Yeah, he says he--likes them, I just hope he's telling the truth! I know what you mean about guys being rough with your nipples, too. They just don't know quite how delicate the little things are...."
"Tell me," Betty said, still sitting across from Cheri with her shirt off, "is Bob a pretty uninhibited lover? Jerry is, but frankly, I think he gets off a lot more from me giving him blowjobs than he does from eating out my pussy. You know what I mean? I mean, honestly, he kind of--likes to be serviced, the lazy bastard!"
"Tell me about it!" Cheri laughed. "And, you know, I don't think most guys really know what it takes to take a chick all the way ... You know, to give her an orgasm ... Sure, Bob does know where my clitoris is, but what I want to know is, does he know what it's for? Hell, I'm thinking about buying him some sex manuals for Christmas, just to see if they improve his performance!"
And that was when Betty's fingers snaked out and, as naturally as anything, began to rub Cheri's inner thigh with a slow, reassuring stroke.
"Yeah," Betty said. "I'm not even sure Jerry has even heard of a clit! At least he doesn't act like it! He's always asking me whether I came after he's pooped out on screwing me and blown his wad up inside me, and I ... Well, you know, I sometimes lie about it ... Sometimes, just so he won't feel hurt, I tell him I have when I really haven't. I don't think there's really anything wrong with doing that, do you? And then, I've just got to tell you this, later on in the evening I'll slip into the bathroom and pull out one of those mags with the naked bodybuilders I keep underneath the bathroom sink, and finger myself. I just get so frustrated sometimes.
Without even thinking about it, Cheri's fingers had found Betty's pussy and were gently stroking. She wasn't sure if it was her imagination, but it seemed like the denim-covered mound had heated up considerably since her fingers had first found it and begun to touch it.
"I know exactly what you mean, Betty ... Sometimes I think that I'm the only one who really knows what turns me on, or maybe another chick might, but then, I've never really had the opportunity to find out about that....
"I wonder...." Betty mused, and Cheri noticed that the other woman's hips were pivoting rhythmically as she sat next to her on the sofa and rubbed her pussy through the denim folds of her pants. And that was all it took to drive Cheri over the edge.
"Let me see if I know what turns another woman on...." Cheri said, and then she leaned over and began to unbutton the single brass button on Betty's jeans. Cheri lowered the zipper of Betty's jeans, and then the other woman lifted her ass off the sofa, arching her tits so that they angled beautifully ceilingward, as she slid the pants down her legs and below her knees. Betty's auburn-brown pussy looked beautiful as she sat there, and she spread her legs wider to give Cheri a better view, massaging her wet crack, using her fingers to rearrange the fur. That moment, suddenly, Cheri realized what she was doing, and it startled her. She was right at the edge of making love to another woman! That was something she had never done before, and had really hardly ever considered before! That was something that only lesbos did! Still, Betty's exposed crotch did look awfully inviting, especially the way she was spreading her legs to show it to even better advantage, to show off the shadowed depths of her slit. Cheri forced back in her mind any thought that what she might be doing wasn't right, and then she brought her face down to Betty's cunt. She nibbled and kissed Betty's hot inner thighs, licking them, smelling the faintly animalistic musk of Betty's crotch, and the other woman arched back, making little sounds of satisfaction and coaxing. Betty certainly didn't seem to be showing any qualms about having her pussy eaten out by another broad!
"Mmmmm...." Betty said, "That's sure as hell something I don't get enough of from Jerry...."
Cheri took that as encouragement and continued to kiss Betty's hot, blushing thighs and then she brought her fingers to Betty's pussy. She lifted her head to look and then, using her fingertips, spread the little hair-hidden petals of her pussy, exposing the glistening salmon color of the interior. She nuzzled her face, dipping her mouth into the wet petals of the other woman's pussy, extending her tongue, pressing her face into, and dragging it up and down the length of the pink slash as Betty wove her finger's into Cheri's hair and forced her face harder downward, to grind into Betty's hot pussy. Cheri wrapped her hands around Betty's big and shapely ass-cheeks, squeezing them, molding them in her fingertips, and ground her mouth, her teeth into Betty's crotch while she gasped and bucked her cunt up and down into the other woman's willing face.
"Oh, fuckin' Cheri! Oh, fuckin' do me, baby...." she moaned, using her hands to force the other woman's face harder into her snatch, to grind it into her clit and the sensitive, wet folds of her pussy. Cheri kept working at Betty's hairy wet puss with a vengeance, shifting her attack to Betty's enflamed little rosebud of a clit, sucking and dabbling and chewing until Betty was on the edge of screaming and her whole ass was bucking and palpitating. Betty could no longer hold herself back. Her hands wildly scrabbled at Cheri's jeans, found the snap and undid them, then dragged the pants over her wide hips, exposing the sweet inverted triangle of Cheri's dark crotch. Betty leaned back on the couch and Cheri swung her leg across her. Betty had a hell of a view of Cheri's pussy and ass, a view she had never had of a woman outside of the shots she had seen in some of the raunchier men's magazines, of the dark cleft of her pussy, of the tiny puckered asterisk of Cheri's anus. Both women plunged their mouths to each other's cunts, going crazy with licking and chewing and slavering, bucking their hips to drive the humid tangles of their pussies into each other's faces. They fell into a hard-driving, pounding rhythm as they ate out each other's pussies, then got wilder and dipped their mouths lower to start to eat out each other's asses. That was something that even their boyfriends didn't do a hell of a lot of! Cheri paused for a second, staring at the other woman's ass-hole, not really sure whether she wanted to bring her mouth to it, but then she could no longer resist its invitation. Cheri's tongue was dashing and chewing the puckered perimeter of Betty's A-hole, and the other woman was just gargling out her moans of joy into Cheri's muffling twat. Betty spread Cheri's ass-cheeks with her hands and burrowed her mouth into the other woman's ass, thrusting her tongue hard and wet, dodging up the tight channel. Cheri decided to escalate the action even more and thrust her fingers hard up Betty's cunt, driving them deep into the dripping petals of Betty's cunt, using them more skillfully than she thought a man would ever know how, ramming and driving them hard, harder, hardest while her friend egged her on. They knew that their cunts were going to be sore in the morning from all of this hard banging, but they knew as well that it was going to fucking be worth it! Cheri just kept ramming those fingers while Betty continued to eat and suck and chew like a madwoman at her friend's crotch, at her ass, and she drove her fingers deep into Betty's lathered cunt until, finally, she could stand it no more and she reared her ass up vertically and screamed out her joy, her legs and pussy trembling and palpitating and jerking with her orgasm. Somehow that orgasm seemed contagious as its waves of fire split Betty's brain in half, because Cheri caught it, too. It started out with a small point of fire burning into her pussy and spread until great fingers of it were raping her pussy, her ass, her breasts, and she was screaming her guts out from the joy of it.
Both of the women's orgasms had hardly subsided when they heard the car entering the driveway.
Cheri's eyes widened: "It's fucking Bob!" she said. She ran over to the window to confirm that it was her boyfriend, and at that moment saw him getting out of his car and start to walk up the short path to the house. He was just sauntering along, as unconcerned as you please. Shit, how would he react if he walked in on his girlfriend and her best friend fucking the shit out of each other? By the time her boyfriend had entered the house they were both fully dressed and puttering in the kitchen, if looking just a tad rumpled, still undecided on what they were going to prepare for dinner. Bob was never the wiser.
She and Betty had never made love to each other again, even though the thought had crossed Cheri's mind many times as she saw Betty wandering around the house practically nude, looking deliciously fuck-able. The subject had simply never come up between the two women. But there was still an unshakeable bond of love between the women, of that Cheri was certain. Cheri wasn't quite sure why they had never had sex again, after that initial pussy-eating incident-maybe the moment was never quite right, or maybe they were both a little embarrassed that it had happened in the first place-or maybe they were afraid that they would like it too much and it would turn into a regular thing, even an obsession. Whatever the reason, the girls chose to never mention it again.
In any case, Cheri knew that she liked guys a lot, and she didn't expect that would, could ever change. She knew with every fiber of her being that she was a woman ... one hell of a head-turning ultra-feminine knockout, as it just so happened! She just loved to turn men wild with her body, and then having their cocks deep inside of her and creaming, deep and throbbing and hot and hard! She loved dicks and balls, loved holding them, kissing them, sucking them, licking them, caressing them as they grew in size, larger and larger, until the guys were begging her to let them fire in her pussy or her mouth or her ass-hole, and she loved the taste of hot sperm as it splattered in sticky gouts all over her teeth and tongue and throat.
With a start Cheri realized she had gotten lost in her fantasy. Then it dawned on her where she was. She was still in the business office of her firm, still sitting at her desk. Luckily no one besides her was in the office. She had been lost in her reverie about Betty and had forgotten entirely where she was! A quick glance at the little clock on the desk told her it was a quarter after five, after quitting time, and then she glanced down to where her hand was ... in a most embarrassing position, namely between her legs! All the while she had been daydreaming about that cunt-eating session with Betty, she had been fingering her twat through the fabric of her dress! Shit, her cunt was steaming, and felt all squishy inside! Quickly Cheri extracted the offending member from her hot mound, and stood up. She straightened her dress, grabbed her purse from under the desk, slapped some buttons putting the phones on night service, and then headed for the elevators just as fast as her long, slim legs would carry her.
III
Hillsboro IS a sleepy little community set amid rambling green hills just outside of Portland, Oregon. It is a quaint mix of tiny Victorian homes and rambling ranch tract developments, antique shops in turn-of-the century storefronts, and modern shopping malls. For a little over a year Cheri and Betty had shared a two-story pink and white painted Victorian house that was really much larger than they needed, but appealed to both of their artistic sensibilities. It consisted of a remodeled kitchen, a dining room with stained glass windows and leaded glass oak hutches, a parlor and a living room, both with fireplaces, four bedrooms a small, round cupola-like room upstairs, and a porch swing. Don't forget the porch swing; Cheri had insisted on that.
Each girl had her own bedroom and Cheri, the budding artist eager to escape from the humdrum existence of being a secretary, used the round room with its magnificent view of the forested hills as an art studio. One room was kept as a spare bedroom for guests, most notably Bob, Cheri's photographer boyfriend, while the fourth room was a general catchall that housed Cheri's art supplies and abandoned paintings. It also stored Betty's huge collection of teddy bears, that is the part of the collection that wasn't on display about the rest of the house. If you were a guy that was visiting the girls and you had some interest in getting into Betty's pants, you never joked about her teddy bears!
Cheri pulled her Volkswagen into the short gravel drive beneath the ancient elms that stood in front of the house. She loved the elms but hated the rain of birdshit that always got deposited on the hood and roof of her car. Bob had promised that he would build a carport for her, and she tried to think of a way she could get him to hurry up with the project. Hold back on the sex with him? Tell him she wouldn't perform any more blowjobs on him until he had started work on the carport? Naw, that was much too crude; that was like cutting off your clit to spite your pussy!
Betty was in the kitchen cooking dinner, one of her exotic Oriental experiments, wearing tiger striped panties and nothing else.
"That you, Cheri? " she said, without turning from the wok full of Chinese food she was tending with a spatula, "I sure as hell hope so, considering how I'm ... undressed...."
Cheri leaned in the doorway, crossing her arms in introspection, assessing the semi-naked girl cooking at the stove. "Oh, I don't know...." she said, "I expect the water man might rather appreciate getting some cooking tips from you ... or perhaps offering a tip of his own...." Cheri paused for a moment. She could never get over those tits, or rather, those incredibly huge nipples of Betty's. Such big nipples placed smack-dab on such small, knob-like titties. Christ, if Cheri had nipples like that she could rule the world! For a moment she had an inclination to come up behind the other woman, to snake her hands up and to take those warm, moldable tits in her hands, to fondle them with her fingertips, but she forced the thought down. After all, after that first sex encounter she and Betty had put that area of their lives on hold, and maybe it was better, more simple that way. If she and her housemate did get involved in some rollicking lesbo affair as their initial lovemaking had shown that it might turn into, that would make it pretty sticky with Bob, wouldn't it? Bob, at various times, had made vague intimations about how both of them might enjoy adding a third party-another chick, naturally-to their lovemaking, but Cheri had ignored the possibility. The problem was, really, that Bob was more possessive than probably even he knew, and if anything had developed that indicated that he wasn't the single focus of interest, well, Cheri thought he might not enjoy that quite as much as he thought. Or maybe, she mused, maybe she had a little streak of that self-centeredness in her, too?
"I'm making plenty of this whatever-it-is with sweet and sour sauce, if you'd like some," Betty said. "It may be excellent, it may be lousy, I'm not quite sure at this point...."
"Some of your famous gourmet whatever-it-is, eh? You make a lot of that, don't you? I don't think so, Betty; I much prefer your whatchamacallit with water chestnuts, now that's really unpredictable...." Cheri responded, smiling. "Thanks for the offer, but Veronica, that lawyer from my work-"
"You mean the bulldyke who always dresses in a suit?"
Cheri put on a look of mock displeasure. "So she's a dyke ... Hell, I don't even know if she is a dyke! Does it matter? She's one of the few people at the office who could give a fuck about me...."
"Hey," Betty said, "Touchy, touchy. Throw a fuck to you, don't you mean? I was just making a joke. I could care less if she's a dyke or isn't! Now, you were saying...."
"Anyway, Veronica, the dyke lawyer from my work, is coming over to help me out with my figure-drawing. She's really good, actually. If you'd like you could sit in...."
Betty turned and Cheri's eyes followed the bobbing of the other woman's tits. "Love to, roomie, but I've got a hot date tonight. It's my boss, at work. He's got a degree in French fry-ology, or something, you know? You should see this guy;, he's from the Middle East somewhere, probably a closet terrorist from his dark good looks ... Anyway, from the way he talks, his parents are practically royalty over there. Well, he's unbelievably foxy and he looks like he could fuck like a Persian-built jackhammer. We'll be coming in late, probably, but if you hear the sound of a jackhammer coming from my bedroom...."
"I get the idea, roomie," Cheri said. "Okay, well, listen, I'm going to go upstairs and do a little work, maybe straighten up a little before Victoria arrives. If you don't bring the jackhammer home with you, drop into the studio and let me know about your trip to the Middle East ... or rather, his trip into you ... He does sound interesting. Ask him if he's got any friends that moonlight as industrial equipment, I might be interested...." With that, Cheri slipped out of the kitchen and headed upstairs.
* * *
Being in the studio always gave Cheri a feeling of incredible freedom that was unmatched anywhere else. There she felt she could soar, at least in her imagination, unlike the way it was at work, chained as she was to a desk for eight hours a day. Cheri went over to the easel where her latest painting stood, draped, and she pulled the cloth off of the canvas. It was a painting of a nude woman, roughly blocked in, features only imperfectly sketched, and she lay sprawled across the couch that sat at the other side of the room, across from Cheri's easel. Looking at the painting, Cheri frowned. This was, without a doubt, the most ambitious painting she had ever done, or attempted, anyway. Compared to the nude female figure, her previous paintings of local landscapes and out-and-out abstracts had been a snap. She had even sold a couple of paintings locally, although at the prices they had ... not commanded, more like pleaded ... they had practically been given away. Now that she thought of it, she had given away a few of the things, too! But this painting, a step upward in both style and content, was proving to be just as difficult as she had imagined, had feared it might turn out to be. The face and the figure were only roughly blocked-in, hazy. Cheri was still struggling on getting the positioning of the arms and legs, the overall posture of the body right. The problem, undoubtedly, was that she was not working from a live model, but rather from a photograph of herself that Bob had taken. Somehow she couldn't seem to make the picture come to life, to be visually interesting, to create the illusion that you were looking at a reclining figure rather than just strokes of paint on a canvas. Well, try and try again....
Cheri went over to the coat hook near the door, and she reached back to fumble with, then unzip the back of her dress. She slid the dress off, stepping out of it, and then carefully hung it on the hook. She stepped out of her shoes, kicked them to the side, then bent as she slipped off each white stocking, hanging them over her dress. She undid the clasp of her bra, the kind that hooked in front that she favored, and then slipped off her bra. Peeling her bra away from her big knockers, jutting defiantly from her chest, had a strangely reassuring sensation to it. She knew that men loved her tits and the way they thrust out, practically defying gravity, and that pleased her. No underestimating the asset a girls tits are to her, Cheri thought, at least if she's got a nice set on her. Now, Betty's tits, personally I find them rather a turn-on, but I suppose they would be a matter of taste. Some guys had told her that the only kind of tits they liked were the big, torpedo-shaped mammaries, the kind she was fortunate enough to have. Betty's small boobs, even endowed as they were with those gigantic nipples, might not appeal to all guys. Cheri finally removed her last garment, her panties, peeling them down past the curly fur of her crotch, then off.
She walked over to the full-length mirror by the door, and assessed her body with an artist's eye. Not too bad, not too bad ... She took her big tits in her hands, weighing them, lifting them as if she was offering them to the girl in the mirror. The girl in the mirror seemed to be pleased with the offering and smiled. Cheri rubbed her fingers over the soft, protuberant pink cones of her nipples, weaving a bit as she took in the sensation through her tits, felt it spreading through the big mounds, felt the heat twinging and going lower toward her crotch, turning on a warm longing down there. She reached out and let her fingers snake downward, over the firm flatness of her belly, then let her fingers slide and toy into the jungle of dark, curly hair at her pussy. She rubbed and molded the protuberance of her pussy mound, now heating up, and arched her tits, writhed her ass as her fingers snuck into the soft clinging wetness of her pussyslips. She dawdled her fingers shallowly, sensuously at the bare livid pink rim of her pussycrack, and then her fingers dove deeper, dove to the first knuckle, twiddling the soft, glistening folds of soft, warm flesh. Cheri's other hand was busy, too, working on her tit, on her nipple. She was teasing her nipple into erectness, pinching and caressing, each motion of her fingers augmenting and making more intense the working of her fingers thrusting into her snatch.
"Okay, Cheri, don't expect me back until...." and then Betty stumbled through the unlocked door, swinging it back. Cheri opened her eyes from her sexual reverie and looked at Betty, her fingers still wrapped around one nipple, the fingers of her other hand thrust into her cunt. "I ... uh...." Betty stumbled, and then she frankly stared. Betty's eyes widened and she didn't say anything as she looked at the other, nude woman standing before her.
Cheri took her hand off of her tit, dislodged her fingers from her twat. "Knock from now on, would you?" she said.
Betty shook her head. "Sorry, Cheri...." But her eyes seemed to linger longer than was necessary on Cheri's twin, bulging tits, on her hair-thatched cunt. "Well, we're off...." she said, recovering her poise. "Don't wait up...."
Cheri nodded. Betty smiled, took one last lingering look at Cheri's nakedness, and then she closed the door behind her.
* * *
Cheri paused mid-stroke with her brush when she heard the sound of the car driving up outside. She walked over to the window and looked out, then spotted Veronica's silver-blue Porsche parked at the curb and the woman opening the door and getting out. She pried free the latch on the window and opened it, and as Veronica walked up the driveway she yelled down, telling her to come on in.
Thinking back on it later, Cheri wasn't exactly sure how it had all happened. It certainly wasn't something she had planned, or wanted, or even considered as a possibility. She had put on her artist's smock ... Cheri wasn't quite that liberated that she was going to parade around in the nude in front of a chick she didn't know all that well, much less in front of a girl whose sexual tastes might include her ... then brought Veronica and a bottle of good red wine and two long-stemmed glassed back to the studio. Their conversation had started off very light, with a discussion of art techniques and the work they had been doing. Veronica had brought her sketch book with her and proceeded to thumb through it and show Cheri a number of her own rather professional quality sketches, pointing out various ways in which she handled shading, the placement of the figure, and the depiction of muscular tone. Her work was definately impressive, and Cheri was certain that Veronica could help her with her own more stumbling efforts. Bolstered by the wine Cheri let Veronica see the painting she was working on, and the other woman was kind enough to praise it without being too adulatory, yet she was also willing to point out the areas where the composition could be improved. Hell, Cheri knew it needed work, and Veronica was right about the areas that needed fixing up. That was when when Veronica started talking about the limitations of working off of photographs, and offered to pose in the nude for Cheri.
"I'm not shy, are you, Cheri?" Veronica asked.
Cheri could feel her face heating up from the moment that Veronica had suggested it.
"You're not afraid of what you might do, once you see my glorious body in the nude, are you, Cheri?" Veronica laughed.
Actually, Cheri realized, there had been a kind of unspoken assumption between them that Veronica would be willing to pose in the nude for her, or at least the possibility had not been ruled out, all along.
Once Veronica started undressing, things just seemed to start snowballing from there. Maybe what Veronica said had some truth to it, Maybe Cheri was a little concerned about what might happen if the other woman took off her clothes. Cheri wasn't comfortable with the idea of sex with another woman, and the reason she wasn't comfortable was not because she had no interest in the subject, it was precisely the opposite reason.
It happened in the same way that the event with Betty had. Unconsciously, just seeming to build without either of them really pushing it to happen. Cheri watched Veronica undress, took her clothing from her and placed it neatly on a nearby table, and as each garment was removed she realized more and more that she had always been attracted to the older woman. Veronica's frilly blouse came off first, and Cheri's eyes were fixated on what lay beneath. Veronica was wearing a very sheer, see-through bra of thin fabric that did very little to hide her almost huge tits and the oversized disks of her reddish-brown nipples, the tips pointed and spiking through quite visibly. She unzipped and stepped out of her skirt and, for the first time, Cheri was able to view closer the shape of the woman's full, feminine hips that almost begged for a good fucking, the shape of her muscular well-aerobicized ass-cheeks underneath the wispy strip of silkiness that was her panties. Then Veronica stripped off her bra, unashamed of what lay beneath it, and Cheri had to marvel at the pair of tits that sprang free from the sheer bra cups, the pair of tits that rivaled her own in beauty, exceeded her own in size. They were proportioned differently, she thought. In comparison to Cheri's, they were longer, sensual in a different way from her own baby pink-capped knockers. They were ... how could she describe it ... lusty, womanly, even animalistic in their sensuality.
Veronica had, perhaps, five years on Cheri, and those years had imparted something smoldering, hot, terribly sexual to those tits of hers. Cheri stared at the big brown eyes of her nipples, fascinated by their dimpled size and perfection, the way they perched at the ends of Veronica's big tits, the way the spikes angled upward like the spike of a cock angling to sink itself into a ready and willing cunt.
And the women made love.
At the time it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to do, even though Cheri was to have second thoughts about what she did later, to wonder about what motivated her to do it in the first place. Their passion, whether Cheri had been aware of it or not, had been building, smoldering beneath the surface for an awfully long time, and in the setting of Cheri's art studio, it erupted.
They fucked by the soft flickering of candlelight, the shadows revealing, concealing their bodies as they moved sinuously together like one body on the couch. A thousand erotic paintings appeared and disappeared as the women's hands, legs, crawled over each other, touching, molding, caressing. They had both had enough wine so that they were completely uninhibited and, for Cheri, it was the moment for her to find out all of the pleasures that another woman could offer, the pleasures that had always been concealed from her by embarrassment at making love to another woman, by the fear of what other people might think or say.
She arched upward, and her mouth met Veronica's sensual, almost cruel mouth. She could hear the intake of the other woman's breath as she dodged her tongue into hers, almost like a prick seeking out and finding its own wet, sucking hole. Their tongues twined like wet, glistening snakes, tasting, caressing, sucking, while their hands feasted on each other's beautiful bodies, crawling up and down the lengths. Cheri felt like she was completely out of control; as if something else was controlling her body as she writhed, coiled with the other woman, the shadows swirling, pouring, hypnotizing them, intoxicating their senses.
It was as if there were two cunts and one body as the woman worked each other's snatches with their fingers, sliding through the warm, wet folds of each other's pussyslices, diving deeper into the hot, simmering interiors, diving all the way in to pump and plunge and drive ... to drive them both to he edge of their ecstasy.
Veronica clung to Cheri's body, her mouth affixed to, her tongue swirling and lapping at the hard little digit of her nipple, sucking it, chewing it as her hand drove three fingers hard into her cunt, rocking her ass with each plunge, making her pant as Veronica sustained the blissful, punishing strokes.
Cheri flicked and vibrated her ringers into the depth of Veronica's fur-fringed hole, completely aware of where the woman was at, of what it would take to take her all the way.
They fucked each other with their fingers with a hot, sustained fury until all of the small sensations of their fucking seemed to add up, to add fire to each other, to build until they coaxed forth their boiling orgasms. It seemed to build inside both of their bodies simultaneously, rising like a flood of sensation behind the gates of their cunts until finally those gates burst and both of their bodies were raped with explosive fire, and they screamed and gargled out their ecstasy, bucking their bodies together as the fingers of sensation ripped through their senses.
"I had never really expected that to happen," Veronica said, toying her finger around the soft edge of the nipple of the other woman lying beside her, her eyes fixed on the poignant little cleft at the end of the nipple spike. "I had always wanted it to happen, but I had never expected it to ... Is this your first experience with a woman? I mean, it doesn't really matter to me, but...."
"Second," Cheri said, "but the last time was quite a while ago. I enjoyed my first time, I enjoyed it a great deal, I just don't know why it never happened again...."
And that was when, for the second time that day, Betty walked into Cheri's studio and saw something that she wasn't expecting to see.
It took a second for Betty's eyes to become accustomed to the dim light in the studio, but when she saw Cheri and Veronica lying on the couch together, twined naked about each other, she froze, disbelieving her eyes. She just stood there, looking at the women, her face not betraying what she was thinking, and then she said:
"I got home early."
Neither of the other two women said anything.
"I didn't expect...." Even Betty couldn't understand why she was in a sort of a state of shock, stunned to see her best friend and a woman together. Rapidly she tried to piece together what she was seeing, to understand it. But before the understanding arrived, the tears did.
"You fuckin' sonofabitch! You fucking lesbian whore!" Betty screamed shrilly, and then she turned and ran out of the room.
IV
The next morning started out crazy, continued crazy. From practically the first moment that Cheri entered the door of the office the phone started to ring. Putting the paperwork she needed to do aside as a secondary concern, Cheri handled phone calls until eleven, when Michael showed up.
He came bustling through the elevator door, carrying a couple of packages.
"Can you get free?" Michael said, obviously in a rush, himself.
Cheri needed the solace of a nice little fuck to get her morning started properly. "Yes, I can. I'll meet you downstairs in five minutes."
Michael winked, and then all there was for Cheri was the vision of his muscular, masculine little ass in those shorts hurrying back to the elevator.
Carmine arrived a few minutes later to take over for Cheri, and then she was off, heading for the freight elevator in a rush, eager for the harbor of Michael's muscular body.
She gave Angelo her usual dazzling smile and a wave as she hurried by him, and Angelo muttered to himself, "Now there's a broad that is eager to fuck...."
Michael looked up from trying to figure out an illegible address on a package, and then he dropped the package to the floor.
"You can't imagine how much I need this, babe," Michael said, looking at Cheri, and before she even had a chance to spread the blanket out on the floor, to take her position on the floor, Michael was all over her.
Shit, she was hungry for it too and didn't object as Michael went right to work hiking up her skirt. She might have preferred a little more foreplay, but anything was better than nothing as he dragged her panties over her full, pale ass and then hurriedly unbuckled his own shorts and pulled them down to his knees. What, he was reading nudie mags before he showed up? Michael was ready to go! Suddenly his mouth was kissing, licking her neck, and she swung around, leaning forward, and gripped the back of the van's seat for something to steady herself with. She pivoted around on the floor and then she felt Michael's big, hard rod as he dragged it up and down the warm cleft of her ass. He spit into his hand and then she felt his fingers as they worked the cool spit into her ass, wetting the exterior of her ass-hole, plunging a little ways in with a single finger to lubricate the channel of her ass.
"In the...." Cheri began to say, but was silenced as Michael, unheeding, brought the snout-end of his pecker up to her ass-hole. With his fingers he tried to spread her anus while the hard end of his prick butted at the door to her ass-hole. Cheri whimpered with each plunge of Michael's big pecker, as it battered without effect at her ass-hole, and then with a single burrowing plunge Cheri gasped and jolted and felt the thick tube of Michael's bone sink in. It was tight, oh fuck, was it motherfuckin' tight!
"You like ... You ... Oh, oh fuck!" Michael's words drifted off into incoherent moans as he clasped Cheri's ass tightly in his fingers and started to plunge his prick in and out of her ass. Damn, it was so tight, frictioning at the walls of her ass-hole, that it felt like it was burning up from the heat as it worked in and out of her hole! For further inspiration Michael reached forward and scrabbled with the buttons on Cheri's dress. She helped him by undoing them, and then one of his hands was plunged underneath her bra, fondling one of her big tits as it hung pendulously down, as his other hand held on to her ass for dear life.
He started off fast and he kept up fast and furious. Cheri was pretty much just along for the ride as Michael pistoned his ass hard and fast, ramming his bone in and out of her ass-hole, his fingers grappling into, distorting the shape of her nipple with his pinching and pulling and fingering.
She loved to be fucked up the ass! It wasn't what she wanted for the main course every day, but today, for what Cheri termed her a.m. fuck, this was perfect. Michael just kept on banging, banging hard, jerking her whole body, jogging her big, soft tits with every one of his hard strokes until finally Cheri screamed it out:
"No! No!" And she meant it. She felt his rod, burning into her ass-hole channel, seeming to expand as it carried its cargo of steaming sperm through it. She felt Michael go all shuddery as he arched and plunged those last few frenzied strokes, and then she felt that splash of cum wetting, steaming into the depths of her ass. He clung onto her for a while longer, whimpering, his fingers still clutching at, working her tit hanging out of her bra, still stroking his rapidly deteriorating cock in and out of her ass.
It was over, Cheri thought to herself, fucking over!
Michael must have sensed that something was lacking, because he did something he had never done before. When he had slid forth his prick from Cheri's ass, without even pulling up his pants he went down on his knees. Spreading her lush ass-cheeks with his fingers Michael pressed his face hard into Cheri's ass and began to eat. He swirled his tongue around the edge of Cheri's pinkly puckered ass-hole, while Cheri perked up, recovering from the sudden loss, and then cooed and clenched her ass with the overwhelming sensation that Michael had begun. Shit, maybe there was hope for the sonofabitch, yet, and his wham-bam-thank you ma'am style! He thrust tongue in, sucking, nibbling, chewing until Cheri was lightheaded from the sensation, her legs and thighs trembling. She worked her own nipple with her fingertips, sweating as she clenched her ass and tried to coax out the orgasm that she knew she was approaching.
And then it was over yet again.
Michael stood up and looked at her. His prick looked pretty pathetic, hanging there reddened and flaccid between his legs. He hitched up his pants, and then in his best strong, silent approach, he turned around and exited the van.
Cheri held back a sob that tried to wrench its way from her throat. She felt so useless kneeling there, holding onto the back of the van seat for support, her panties a pink scramble down around her ankles. And she knew she had to have more! She was desperate to cum! Cheri reached down and slid her fingers shallowly into her cunt lips, working her index finger into her crotch like a little plow while her thumb molded the rubbery outer lips, grazing her little clit with each passage. She worked her fingers hard, knuckling her pubic bone and her clit, frictioning hard and wishing it was Michael doing it. It didn't take long until her whole body was trembling again, and then she gasped, sucking in breaths as the fiery fingers of her orgasms wrenched, wrung out her body of its longing ... most of its longing, that is.
Cheri distractedly offered Angelo a kiss and that seemed to satisfy him, but he must have noticed something was strange about her.
"Anything wrong? Did that guy do something ... If he did, why, I'll break every bone in his...."
Angelo was sweet for asking, and obviously quite willing to defend her questionable virtue, if the need arose. "No, no, Angelo. There's nothing wrong, at all." She didn't mention it to Angelo, but it wasn't something Michael had done, it was actually something Michael never did.
"Look, Angelo," she said, "It's not that big of a fucking deal, it's just that that Michael Blade isn't that great of a lover, and...."
"He's not?" Angelo Bandini said incredulously, hearing what he had wanted to hear for a long time....
"Naw, he stinks, and I don't even know why I bother with him." Cheri tested her words in her mind before she said them. "You're a lot better than he is...." She was just saying it to make Angelo feel better, he definately deserved a lot more than the occasional blowjob that was all she ever had to offer him, but there was something to what she was saying, too. Angelo, after all, was considerate, and that was something you could never accuse Michael of.
"Is there anybody around?" she asked. "I really, really need you to do me this morning, Angelo.
Hearing that, Angelo might have even gone for screwing the little beauty if there had been someone around!
"I don't think there is, Cheri, but what did you have in mind?"
"Behind the desk," Cheri said. "I really do have to have it today, Angelo. I have to have it or I'm going to be horny all fucking day...." And that was definitely no lie....
Damn! And Angelo liked to hear horny women talking that way, too!
Angelo took a glance at the television screens to confirm that there was no one in the vicinity, saw no movement on the little phosphorescent squares, and then he turned back to Cheri and let her make her move. Cheri eased his big bulk down to the concrete floor, and Angelo was only too willing to lay on his back for her. Anytime, baby, anytime....
Cheri knelt down beside him, hoping that she wasn't going to get a run in her stockings, and then she began to massage the bulge, the rapidly growing bulge, in Angelo's work pants.
She watched Angelo's face, branded by the delicious sensation as she worked his cock with her fingers. Then she unzipped his pants and, past his underwear, she led Angelo's prick out into the light and the open air. Angelo had a hell of a pecker on him, whatever else you wanted to say about him! She grasped Angelo's gradually rising bone in her fist and began to frig, working his prick into hardness, anticipating the moment when it would be hard enough for her to ride it for one good, long joyride.
It didn't take a fuck of a long time for it to arrive at that state.
Angelo stared up at Cheri, her body hovering over him as she worked his cock, her eyes hooded, sultry with pleasure and anticipation. It was pretty obvious that she was badly in need of a fuck, even Angelo could see that, and he never claimed to know a fucking thing about broads. He didn't wait for a more formal invitation. His hands crawled all over those up-thrust big mounds of her tits, feeling them up right through the fabric of her dress, and then, disregarding any potential interruption from people passing by, he peeled the top of her dress down and finally got a look at her tits. The sweetest pair of pink nipples Angelo had ever had the pleasure to witness dawned above the top of her dress, each tit capped with a perfect, pink spike. He rubbed her nipples like he was a miser handling gold, feeling them go hard underneath his palms, and then Cheri was moaning:
"Fuck me, babe! Oh, fuck me!"
Angelo Bandine thought he had died and gone to Heaven! Cheri went up on her knees and Angelo lifted her dress up above the red silk-covered mound of her little pussy. He rubbed his fingers over it in wonderment, still not believing what he was touching. Then he took the waistband of her panties and pulled them down her beautiful white legs, pulled them over her knees, exposing the tangled fur of her crotch, the widening glistening of her little red slit. Angelo shoved his finger into her cunt and she writhed, whimpering as he worked it into her. He ran his finger up and down the wetness of her slash as she moaned and cooed, taking extra care to swizzle and to friction her clit with his fingertip. Her thighs were trembling out of control, her ass clenching with the pleasure of it of his big finger working into her cunt, of his other hand taking its fill of her sensitive nipple.
Cheri swung her leg around, and then burrowing down on Angelo's upstanding prick she lowered herself, letting his big prick go cleanly and smoothly right up her twat-channel. She gurgled out something crazy and meaningless, clasping her naked tits in her own hands and fingers, working the nipples as he started sluicing that big boner right up into her grasping cunt.
Angelo rammed that thing hard, gasping himself, feeling so much differently than he did when he was ramming his own wife Louise at home. These young girls, it was amazing! They actually liked to fuck, and to suck, too! Now, Louise, she acted like it was her duty to lay motionless underneath Angelo while he grunted and pumped, except when she could figure out some excuse so she could get duty-leave! Cheri kneaded her own tits in her fingers and Angelo reached up and worked them at the same time, shoving his prick in and out of her, slugging it into her and not even caring about the hard concrete his ass was impacting with on every stroke. She hissed and gasped as he sank and re-sank his poker into her, and then he lifted her higher as his ass and hips went out of control, ramming his slick stick into her dark fur-thatched crotch, each shove into her slot evoking a little yelp from her that; by this time, Angelo didn't even give a fuck if anyone heard! If it meant his fucking job it would be well worth it!
When Angelo came he gasped, hissing between his teeth, and then he practically yodeled, mixing his tortured cries with Cheri's as his moon-colored jism rocketed and splattered up into her crotch, mixing with all that fabulous, fragrant cunt-juice as she bounced up and down on his pole, pounding her pussy onto it to drag out the last of her orgasm, to wring out the last, least sensation of it.
It was almost over before it had begun, but at least now she felt warm, woozy, satisfied, and had the vague feeling that she might make it through the day.
As she walked away from Angelo she looked back for a final sight of his foolish grin, and to see him still standing where she had left him, staring at his hand, still dripping with some of the glistening, lathered cum that had slithered out of her.
Cheri hurried down the hallway, and then found that her screwing hadn't entirely saved her from the other concerns of her life.
Cheri was so distracted, her mind was now a half-pleasant and half-unpleasant whirl of imagery of every loony thing that was going on with her. Of course there was her encounter with Veronica, not to mention her continuing ... well, addiction would be a good word ... to Michael, and, as long as she was on the subject, there was the way in which Betty had reacted when she had happened in on her and Veronica last night, the way that Betty had exploded with emotion, and then, finally, finally, there was the warm glow she was still feeling from her quickie with Angelo ... Cheri was in such a daze that she didn't even notice Al Monte as his path intersected hers going through the lobby of Portland Plaza, and he had to reach out and steady her to keep her from bumping into him.
"You're...." was about the most eloquent greeting that Monte could come up with, surprised as he was to encounter the beautiful secretary that he had just been thinking about. He tried to frame some words in his mind to say to her, but somehow he couldn't find the words, and so just stood there looking, well, rather stupid, if the truth be told.
"Mr. Monte, how are you?" she said, bringing her eyes into focus on the somewhat short figure standing before her. Monte thought she was just too beautiful. She didn't quite look as cool and perfect as the first time he had seen her, there were strands of her hair that were out of place and she looked flushed from ... emotion? exertion? But, by god, she still looked good enough to eat!
"I'm ... just ... just fine," he stumbled. "Ms.?...."
"Pardon me; I didn't even think. Cheri ... Cheri Hall. I guess you have an appointment with Mr. Kuhlman?"
"You know," Monte said, "I guess I do. For a second I was so dazzled there by running into you that I didn't know what to think. I've got a better idea though, a much better idea. Have you had lunch, yet?"
Cheri shook her head.
Monte offered her his arm and she took it.
* * *
Cheri had never realized that lunch could be so fucking sensuous.
"Just...." Al Monte said, levering up an oyster on the half shell to his lips, "Just like this....", and then he elevated the shell, angling it to release its contents. Cheri watched the moon-colored shellfish and its splash of gleaming liquor slide out of the shell and into Monte's waiting mouth. Al Monte smiled, almost as if to say, "Just like eating pussy...."
Cheri lifted a shell to her lips, still hesitant about eating something that looked so fucking strange, not to mention still being alive, and then took the contents in. She wallowed the oyster over her tongue for a second, tasting the delicate saltiness and flavor, and then she swallowed. No, she thought, the sensation is not like eating cunt, it's like eating cum! Now, that is different! A lunch of eating cum! She nibbled at a piece of French bread and realized that, perhaps, her mood was changing from the confused dreariness of the morning.
Monte tried to draw her out and get her to talk about herself, to get into Cheri's world. "So, what do you enjoy doing when you're not being the perfect secretary?" He actually saw a little smile emerge from those beautiful scarlet lips. She lifted another oyster to her lips and Al Monte scrutinized her as she let the shellfish slide into that sweet, open mouth. Monte indulged himself in thinking about Cheri perhaps kneeling below him, eager to take him in. He would have his big, veiny tool clasped in his fist, angling the purplish head toward those beautiful, waiting lips. As his cockhead touched those pretty lips they would widen, and then he would see the glistening of her pink tongue in her mouth, ready to take his big tool in, ready to accept a blast of his hot sperm licking across her tongue.
"I," Cheri said, "well, actually, I like to paint. One of these days I'd like to be successful enough to tell the firm of Giacomini, Jones and Zarkov to take it up their asses! Actually, everyone there has been pretty good to me, it's only that fucking Kuhlman that rides me...." Cheri paused and smiled devilishly. "Oops," she said.
Monte raised his eyebrows in question.
"My language," Cheri said, "What you must think of me...."
"I've heard worse," Monte said, "but I've never seen better...."
Cheri gifted him with another radiant smile. "I've been doing impressionistic landscape, but I'm trying to get into painting the figure...."
Monte sipped at his glass of white wine, watching the young woman, watching her every gesture and inflection.
"See, there's something about painting that gives me a sense of freedom. Does that sound strange? When I'm painting, I'm totally into my imagination, and I feel really free, like I can go and be anything I want. I feel like I could fly, if I wanted to...." What she didn't say was that the white wine she was sipping was providing a similar sensation.
"And I ... I ... Paint in the nude." Cheri sat back and smiled, pleased to have gotten her secret out.
Monte took a bite of French bread, then another sip of wine. "In the nude."
"Yes," Cheri said.
Al Monte suddenly realized he was getting a hard-on. He shifted his legs to accommodate the big stick that was growing in his pants. The idea of Cheri walking about her room, or studio or whatever, painting in the nude, was turning him on, turning on his fantasies of Cheri's potential availability ... to him. Not surprisingly. The dress that Cheri was wearing was insubstantial enough, made of some silky material, that seeing her naked didn't seem like such a big change. Monte had already stared at those big tits of hers for almost a half-an-hour, imagining what they would look like free of that wisp of fabric, imagining the color, the size of Cheri's nipples that were concealed.
"You're looking for freedom?" Al Monte said.
The young woman lifted her blue-green eyes to his. "I guess I am...." she said.
"What with the way things are going, I think I'm in need of the same thing. I sure as hell haven't had a lot of it, lately, with all of the jacking around with the divorce, and all." Monte lifted another oyster to his lips, swallowed it, then chased it with wine. "I just decided. This weekend I'm going to go to Tahoe. Would you like to join me? We could have a blast, and you would be back in town for work, Monday morning."
Cheri knew, or at least suspected, that the offer consisted of more than swimming in the lake and riding around in a convertible. The offer would also undoubtedly include screwing Al Monte. In addition to that, it also meant standing up Bob, who was going to arrive back in town that night, and paying the piper when she did see him again. Bob would, without a doubt, be severely pissed.. "You're leaving...."
"Tomorrow afternoon. Let's say after you get off work. You don't need to decide right this moment. Think about it. If you want a weekend in Tahoe, if you want me, call me and I'll pick you up after you get off."
When they had finished lunch, both Monte and Cheri returned to the Portland Plaza building, and boarded the elevator together. The elevator was crowded and they shoehorned their way in, Monte standing behind Cheri in one corner, not in the least discomforted by being crowded in next to her.
Cheri realized that she was feeling pretty good, after all, and decided to do something crazy. She pressed back against Monte and felt the hardness of his cock collide into the soft cleft of her ass. Monte wasn't sure if she had done it by accident, and stood there motionless, hoping that it hadn't been. Cheri knew their time was short, and then began to revolve her ass-cheeks slowly, languidly against the hard stem of Monte's prick compressed within his pants. So he did have a hard-on! She had thought that she saw something big and hard in his pants that wasn't a pocketknife! Monte knew, now, that the sensuous buffering his prick was receiving wasn't an accident, and he decided to go along with it, to take it for what it was worth. His right arm concealed by his body, he carefully insinuated his hand underneath Cheri's skirt, sliding his hand underneath the waist of her panties, and then he dipped it into her warm, firm ass-cheeks. He slid his fingers low and then began to massage the perimeter of her anus, still moist from the ass-fucking that Michael had delivered her. Cheri squirmed her ass onto Monte's digit, feeling as if it was a little prick that was probing her. His finger went deeper and slowly, so as to not attract attention, he began to slide it in and out, giving her a fingerfucking up her ass. He kept it up for as long as he could, but it was all over too soon, when they reached the floor that Cheri's office was located on.
* * *
Bob arrived back in town with only one thought in mind, and he went directly to her. He parked down the street from Cheri's house so she wouldn't hear him drive up, then sneaked in the backdoor of the house and tiptoed up to her studio where he assumed she would be.
He very carefully eased the doorknob open, willing it not to make a sound, and peered in. His guess had been right. Cheri was hard at work at her easel, in the glorious altogether. She was certainly a sight to behold, standing there beautifully, pinkly naked as she dabbed the canvas with her paintbrush. What Bob was not prepared for at all was the woman who was stretched out naked on the couch, posing for Cheri. Bob paused and took it all in, letting his eyes rove over one woman's body, then over another. Cheri was hard at work, her back turned toward him, working hard on her painting. His eyes zeroed in and fixed on that gorgeous dimpled ass of hers, taut enough from exercise that it wasn't the usual plump lump comprising most chick's asses. Cheri's ass had more ... more definition, more sexiness. Sleek in the way that a show horse's ass is sleek, highlighted as she shifted from one foot to another with changing shading and musculature that made it appear just so fucking inviting, so beautiful, so photographable, even so edible.
Bob could hardly fault the beauty of that babe on the couch, either, although she looked a few years older than Cheri, perhaps closer to his own age of twenty-seven, and like a real dragon-lady with that dark beauty of hers. He didn't know who she was, he didn't even care who she was; Bob only knew that he wanted her, that he wanted to be inside of her. Veronica had undone her hair to fall in shimmering dark waves over her shoulders, providing a splash of darkness to contrast with the paleness of her skin. Her eyes were big and dark and feline, accentuated with green eye shadow, her cheekbones high. It was the kind of face that Bob associated with pure animalism, pure out-of-control fucking, it was the face of the kind of women who inhabited his wildest fantasies.
Bob hadn't seen Betty's car in the driveway when he arrived, so he assumed that she wasn't home. He hoped that she wasn't home, because he wasn't sure how she would react if she saw what he was going to do just then. What could it harm if he gave himself a little pleasure at no one's expense! He had happened upon the girls in the studio innocently enough....
Bob reached down and undid the buttons on his khaki pants, reached past his underwear, then hauled forth his prick, already starting to swell from the stimulus of the naked babes he'd been ogling. He gripped his semi-hard prong in his hand and, drawing back the foreskin, began to gently frig, to friction it. He brought his eye back to the opened crack of the door and then began to imagine what it would feel like to fuck the dark-haired chick on the couch as he pulled and coaxed and worked on his prick.
She looked like she was, oh, five or ten years older than Cheri. Much more mature, womanly, really. Those tits of hers were something to behold, that was for certain; really spectacular. They were big and long and angular, shaped more like two French loaves thrust defiantly out from her chest than anything else. And the nipples were just one more element of their perfection. Her nipples were huge and a dark honey tint, the spikes angled jauntily upward, the same angle that Bob's dick was taking at the moment.
Veronica's snatch was so big and dark and hairy, contrasting beautifully with the lightness of her skin, with those long, long legs arranged casually on the couch. Bob's mind was a scramble of images as he thought about what it would be like to shove his face right into that frizzy midnight muff, to take a full inhalation of the tang of that incredible twat, to feast on it, to spread the rosy lips wide and to dive his mouth down to it and feast, feast to his fucking heart and dick's content.
It was Cheri that was the first to press her mouth to that pussy, though.
Bob didn't expect it, didn't have any idea as he watched Cheri walk casually over to the woman lying on the couch. They had talked about women with women before, Bob had even made some vague sounds to encourage Cheri to suggest that they make a threesome of it with Betty sometime, but she didn't take the bait. In fact she denied having any interest in her own sex at all, and Bob had taken her at her word, even if it was slightly disappointing to him. Shit, Cheri was the most beautiful broad in the world, but sometimes a guy needed a little change of pace ... Now, watching her through the door, he wasn't sure how to react as he saw her kneel before the other woman, extend her hand and caress the other woman's sleek and slim thigh, then move her hand to touch the other woman's bare ass-cheek.
Bob was a realistic guy, above all else he was realistic. There, with his cock perched in his hand, he decided he would save his indignation and hurt for later, when it might do some good and could be used to get Cheri to do something he would enjoy, like include another female member into their fucking bouts. For now he would put those concerns aside and attempt to enjoy the moment for what it was, and it certainly did have nice possibilities.
Veronica pressed her hand to Cheri's back, urging her onward. The other woman clasped her friend's ass tight and lowered her mouth toward the big, tangled triangle of darkness. She lifted one hand and spread the lips of her pussy as Veronica lifted and spread her legs, then she sank her mouth, tongue extended, down to the glistening, ruddy crack that lay directly before her and looked so fucking inviting.
Bob could hear Veronica's moan as Cheri brought her mouth into contact with her friend's exposed twat lips, licking up and down the length of the exposed slice with long strokes of her cat-like tongue, then burrowing two fingers deep, into her open crack, making the other woman arch and grasp, as she used her tongue and lips and teeth to torment Veronica's pussylips and clit.
Bob imagined that it was his face that was ground into the dark-haired woman's incredible cunt, licking, laving, scouring the interior of her pussy with his licking, probing tongue. His hand was jerking with a smooth, regular frigging on his boner, and his cock was already stone-hard in his fist. He felt like he could haul off and cum at any time, all it would take would be that decision, that act of will to drive him over the edge into his orgasm, but he tried to sustain the sensation as long as he could, holding it back to increase the intensity when it did arrive.
Veronica was working on one of Cheri's fabulous tits with her hand while Cheri did her pussy with her mouth and fingers. Never shy, Cheri climbed on the sofa, too, angling her ass above Veronica's face for a wonderfully revealing view both to Veronica and to Bob, all the while maintaining her sucking and fingerfucking. Veronica rose up and, clasping Cheri's rosy cream ass-cheeks with her fingers, dove her mouth into the inviting pink target of Cheri's anus, extending her hot tongue, driving the probing, twisting finger of her tongue deep into Cheri's sensitive ass-hole, making her whimper and yelp with the torturous, delicious sensation.
At that rate, it didn't take Bob a hell of a lot of time to take himself all the way. He tried to match the moods of the broads as he whacked his prick in his fist, listening to their gasps, watching the frenzied pumping of their pale pink hips and asses, and when he heard their cries, when he heard their begging to "Fuck me! Fuck me!" he let his willpower drop out and jerked harder, driving himself onward. The girls gargled out their joy between each other's legs and Bob fell gasping against the doorjamb, his brain exploding and whiting out in release as he stood there ramrodding his prick with his hand. He felt like his heart was going to burst when he fired a triple pulsing squirt of his cum and it splattered across the hall wallpaper leaving a big, heart-shaped stain. He stood there, dazed, weak, pounding on his pud until the dregs of it had dripped into the carpeting, and then, taking a final peek at the two naked girls collapsed onto each other, still sucking each other's pussy and ass, he tucked his shrinking prick away in his khakis and stole down the hallway on his tiptoes.
V
Betty had spent the previous night in an overpriced fleabag of a motel, just so she wouldn't have to confront Cheri about the embarrassing scene with Veronica. It had all been too weird, and the way that Betty had reacted to catching them making love had been something she was not proud of. After all, Betty really didn't have any problem with lesbian sex; hadn't she and Cheri made it that one incredible time, shortly after they had moved into the house? What she had the problem with was Cheri having sex with anyone but her, because she was jealous of any other woman possessing Cheri. She knew that her attitude was ridiculous but, after all, it was not one she had chosen. Her horror at finding Veronica and Cheri screwing hadn't been something she had made up. It had been unexpected, impossible to control, something that had come straight from the gut.
Finally Betty had to admit that she was in love with Cheri, that she had always been in love with Cheri. She didn't really want to believe it, there was a little bit too much inbred conservatism about what a woman was supposed to feel, supposed to do for her to feel comfortable with her emotions. But she was unable to deny that those emotions existed.
Practically from the first moment she had known Cheri, she finally had to admit, she had been in love with her. And the sex had been the culmination of a dream that she had been unwilling to let herself believe. She knew now that if it was possible she would make love to Cheri every night, every day.
When Betty arrived home she found the brief note from Cheri telling her that she was spending the weekend in Tahoe, and that if Bob called, to explain it to him. Explain it to him! Fat chance! Both Betty and Bob knew that Cheri didn't have enough money in her savings account to do anything like flying to Tahoe for a mini-vacation, and that it had to be some guy she had picked up that was footing the bill. She didn't think that Bob would be too thrilled by that idea, and she could understand why. As for Betty, the idea of Cheri going on yet another of her fucking sprees with some guy up at Lake Tahoe didn't really concern her too much. For some crazy reason, probably because it had happened so often before, the idea of a guy screwing Cheri didn't bother Betty. She knew that she had depths of feeling, of sensitivity of her own, that no guy could match. She didn't have a prick, of course, but then that could be dealt with. She knew that women shared something, knew some things that men didn't and could never begin to appreciate. That was what no man could ever compete with her in, and why she knew that she had something for Cheri that no man did. She understood Cheri, understood her needs. What was a guy, anyway, but a chick that always carried a dildo? And if that was such a fucking big deal, well then Betty could always go down to the neighborhood adult bookstore and buy a dildo! That wasn't so fucking hard, was it? It was Cheri making it with a broad that somehow bothered Betty, bothered her deeply. She felt that if a chick was fucking Cheri, then it should be her....
Betty put the note down on the kitchen table where she had found it, and without even a decision, without willing herself to, she wandered up the stairs to the second floor. She walked past the door to the studio and felt a sore twinge, remembering back on the sight of Cheri and Veronica twined naked together, enjoying each other in a way that Betty would have preferred that Cheri save for her. Then she walked farther down the hall to Cheri's room, where the door was standing open. Betty paused at the doorway, then looked inside. It was really amazing how much of Cheri's personality was in the room, it almost felt as if her friend was with her right then. It looked like Cheri had done some hasty packing, this morning or perhaps this afternoon, undoubtedly preparing for her fling in Tahoe. A dress and a blouse were laying on the bed where they had been tossed, and one of Cheri's bras was hanging over the edge of an open drawer in the chest.
Betty felt a slight twinge of guilt as she walked into the other woman's bedroom, even though she knew that Cheri wouldn't have minded even if she knew. She looked around and was vaguely amused at Cheri's idea of housekeeping. Neatness had never been her long suit. On her writing desk there were a scattered sheaf of sketches of nudes, and although they were rough so that Betty could not identify them, she hoped that they weren't of Veronica. On the floor was a pair of crumpled leotards where Cheri had tossed them.
Neatness isn't everything, Betty thought.
She walked over to Cheri's dresser. Perhaps she might neaten up things a little bit, so that Cheri wouldn't be returning to a messy room. She wasn't, after all, mad at her ... Betty reached out and removed the bra from the drawer it was hanging over, glancing at it, rubbing the fabric between her thumb and forefinger to touch the fabric. That was Cheri's lingerie drawer, not that she wore much of that sort of thing, except when she was at work, being the perfect secretary. Holding the bra in her fingertips, she was reminded of Cheri, or rather, she was reminded of Cheri's luscious body. Just think, this wispy little piece of nothing gets to hold Cheri's incredible tits all the time, and does it appreciate them? No! To cup them, to lift them, just as Betty had once held them, lifted them, suckled on them. Her mind went back to the time that she and Cheri had had sex, an event that normally she kept tucked away in the back of her mind and really didn't like to think about too much because of the longings that it evoked in her. She remembered the big mounds of Cheri's boobs, each capped with those big, perfect pink nipples, the shading of that pink almost impossible to describe ... or to resist ... Betty looked at the bra again and thought about Cheri when she would sometimes wander around in her underwear before work, perhaps sitting in the kitchen and having a cup of coffee, perhaps rushing around the house and trying to find where she had left something the night before. The way her nipple-ends would spike through the thin, white fabric was so fucking pretty, such a fucking turn-on, though she had never told Cheri so. So many times, sitting there across from her, she had had the urge to lean forward and to take those nipple-spikes in her lips, right through the fabric of the bra, to suck on them, to make them go all distended and to make those twinges of pleasure rocket through Cheri. But she had always willed that forbidden urge down, denied that it even existed....
Betty pressed the filmy fabric of the bra to her face , inhaling, and pretended she was pressing her face into, between Cheri's tits. She moaned, imagining those firm, conical mounds and their soft pressure against her face, against her mouth, against her tongue. She imagined the little spike of one of Cheri's nipples protruding hard against into her mouth, and she pretended to take it into her lips and to suck,, to suck. She imagined herself licking at the big, pink aureoles of Cheri's tits, licking, stroking her tongue around the almost invisible shading at the edges, making the edges go all pink and dimply and beautiful. She kissed and sucked at the bra, moaning, pretending it was Cheri's tits she was doing it to.
Betty lay back on Cheri's bed and, still clutching the bra, she opened the buttons of her shirt. Then she popped the button on the jeans she was wearing and dragged them and her flimsy underwear down over her hips. She looked at her own brunette curly snatch and realized that she was getting wet, getting warm inside her pussy channel, and that the spit-curls of hair at the base of her snatch were plastered into the dampness of her pussy cleft. She lay back and let one of her hands descend down her belly and into the jungle of her tangled cunt-hair, going lower to embed her fingers into her cunt, squishing them into the hot, hot wetness. Betty writhed on the bed, grinding her ass into the covers as she worked her fingers into her pussy, grinding her hand into her clit, grinding the cups of the bra into her face and mouth. She was so hot she didn't even know what she could do about it! Betty kissed, licked and sucked at that bra, all the while imagining that it was Cheri's pink, out-thrust tits she was doing it to, while she poked and prodded her fingers into her cunt. Hotter than hell, she was panting, gasping, whimpering as she fingered herself, bringing her body closer to the inevitable explosion of joy.
Why would she do it to me? she pleaded with herself, aching inside. Why would she make it with another broad when I'm the one that ... that ... wants to love her, to fuck her! That wants to suck her titties, to flick my tongue on her nipples, that wants to kiss her and have our tongues wrestle with each other, suck each other as if we're sucking two wet little pricks. She kept up the banging with her fingers, driving herself onward physically and with her imagination toward her climax.
She must know that I would give anything to see her naked here beside me, to lower myself between her legs and to press my mouth to her dark pussy, to shove my nose, my tongue into her crotch ... I want to eat her! To fuck her! To eat out her ass, to look at her ass-hole, driving my tongue hard into her ass-hole; to suck, to lick, to probe....
Betty gritted her teeth and began to furiously flick her thumb on her clit, feeling her thighs, her legs tremble as she did so, feeling her own breath quickening. Yes, she said to herself, rubbing the bra over her little, up-perked tits, over the large brown nipples, if Cheri was here she would want to do the same to me, she would want ... she would want ... and then just the image of her friend's blonde head shoved into her crotch made Betty work her fingers more furiously, pinching and twiddling her clitoris while she thought about her friend's pink tongue licking out and flicking and sucking ... and she lost everything and arched back, feeling the waves of sex rape her brain, wanting every hole sucked, fucked, screwed by Cheri ... Wanting everything done by Cheri endlessly, wanting to do everything to Cheri, to do every one of her holes endlessly....
* * *
It was probably the most beautiful beach that Cheri had ever seen in her life, and it amazed her that it was deserted. The white sand was bordered on all sides by rock and sloping shoulders of earth, fringed with tall stands of pine trees. The sky was an incredible pastel blue, with fleecy white clouds curdled all through. The water was ... how blue? ... It was the clear, transparent blue of a sapphire engagement ring offered by a rich man....
Al Monte laid two oversized beach towels down and, lowering himself to the ground and sitting on one, was content to watch Cheri cavort and play in the crystal-blue water. The bikini she had brought with her left very little of her beautiful body to the imagination, but Al Monte still sat there and, in his imagination, stripped off those two remaining string-like pieces of red fabric. Cheri, laughing and splashing, was quite aware of the activity of Monte's eyes-she'd been aware of the activity of men and boy's eyes for quite a long time now, ever since she had developed tits-but she wasn't in the least bit offended. In fact, unlike some women, Cheri found it a turn-on to be ogled by men under any circumstances.
Al Monte was thinking, estimating what it would take to, well, not own, but possess the beautiful blonde in the water. It was impossible for Al to look at those sleek, curved ass-cheeks concealed only by the string of the bikini riding the vertical split, at the concealed triangular patch of fabric concealing ... what? Probably brunette pubic hair ... and at those two high-riding, beautiful, jogging mounds, really only their nipples concealed by the bikini, without figuring out how he could possess all that, to keep its beauty for his own. It all came down, simply, to whether Cheri was willing to go along with the plans he had for her, with the dreams ... He really couldn't change the hand of cards he had been dealt, and somehow Al hoped that Cheri was able to overlook the fact that the dreams were those of a middle-aged, not all that great-looking of a would-be Casanova. If she could only overlook the surface....
Al Monte, as he was well aware, was no kid any longer. And that was probably what Cheri was used to, pretty much: kids. She appeared to be barely into her twenties, and Al suspected that the usual date she might acquire might take her to, what? The drag races? The movies? And then they would try to cop a feel of Cheri's tits, or a screw in the backseat of their car while parked on some lonely side street of Portland. Hell, maybe she would be amenable to giving Al a chance, at least he wouldn't be trying to finger her in the movies, for God's sake!. As far as money, Al could buy her anything, anything, even though she probably didn't realize it. A Lamborghini for Christmas? No problem. A diamond necklace with a stone like a pigeon's egg? Well, maybe a little more difficult, but can do ... But, on the down side of the ledger, Al didn't look like a teenager anymore, either. Sitting there on the sand in his baggy swim trunks he was only too aware of his slight pot belly and of his thinning hair. Did it matter to Cheri? Of course it would matter, it was just a matter of how much it mattered!
He saw Cheri running friskily toward him on the sand, like some nymphet out of a chewing gum commercial, kicking up sand and just taking joy in her youth, in the surroundings.
"Al," she laughed, "you should come in! The water feels wonderful!" She laid beside him and he turned to assess her rump from close-up. Her body looked beautiful, glistening with droplets of water, her hair slicked back and darkened by the water. "Damn, this is just fabulous, Al! Isn't the sun wonderful? I could just stay here forever, I could just live here!"
It was a nice day, Al had to admit. "We're going to have to come up here sometime during the winter. Do you ski?"
Cheri mumbled a vague, pleasured affirmative and relaxed on the towel. "Al, would you rub some of that sun tan cream on me?" she asked, gazing up at him with those doe eyes that she knew perfectly well had their effect on men.
Al reached into the canvas carryall they had brought along, and ,pushing aside the junk they had accumulated, took out a tube of cream. He applied it liberally to his hands and then he began to rub it onto Cheri's pretty, already-tan shoulders. Cheri let out little purrs of pleasure as Al rubbed the cream into her skin, and Al's dick practically did the same. From her shoulders Al descended to her lower back, then he moved down on the towel to get at her legs. Cheri was getting a combination treatment with the sun tan cream and a massage in the bargain, and she was enjoying every minute, but not as much as Al was. He rubbed the cream all over her legs, working from her calves upward. Al was treating himself to her upper thighs last. It was almost maddening as he worked his fingers over Cheri's slim, soft legs, rubbing the cream in. Al's breathing was quickening just being in such close proximity to Cheri's nearly naked body, and his cock was already half-hard in his trunk and growing by leaps and bounds. Al could feel the large, exposed head as it rubbed against the inside of his trunks, asking to be released from its bondage and to find another, softer bondage. It was an annoying, frustrating feeling that made him want to let the big thing spring free, to have its way. Finally Al reached Cheri's upper thighs and his strong fingers worked the suntan lotion in. Cheri was purring her agreement as his fingers molded and caressed her thighs, the soft interiors, and he could watch her clenching her ass-cheeks fully exposed in the bikini-while his fingers worked firmly but softly, his fingers soaking up the deliciousness of Cheri's skin.
Al just couldn't take it any longer.
He went ahead and risked offending Cheri just to stop the torment of seeing her there almost naked, touching her. Al leaned over and slipped his fingers into the topmost part of the bikini. Cheri didn't utter a protest. Then he slid the bikini down. Even though the bikini had revealed just about all there was to reveal of Cheri's fabulous, firm ass, sliding it off sure did make a difference. Al feasted his eyes on the two big, shapely mounds of her ass and then brought his face down. He squeezed her ass-cheeks between his hands while he kissed and licked them like a starving wolf. All Cheri did was to let out a little moan and to move her ass a little in slow, languorous swirling motions, letting him take his pleasure and his eye's and mouth's fill of her rear. Al spread her ass-cheeks with his worshipful fingertips and then lowered his mouth to her rump and began to run his tongue in hot, cat-like strokes between the cheeks, doing a bit of moaning himself. As Al went lower he saw the protruding tuft of dark hair that stuck out between Cheri's legs, saw the little puckered pinkish hole of her anus, and went at his task with a vengeance. Spreading her cheeks with his fingers, his mouth, his nose dove into the warm, wet junction at the base of her ass, licking, nuzzling, moaning, and then thrusting. He slid his tongue into Cheri's ass as he felt her ass clench and squeeze and then do a little rhythmic bucking as if she was simulating fucking someone.
"Oh, Al! Oh, fuck!" Cheri moaned, raising her ass up farther to let Al better squirm and swirl his tongue into it. Al reached under her raised body and slid his hands over her hairy little quim, molding it, letting his fingers slide shallowly into her already widening, wet cunt lips. Cheri was bucking her hips as Al banged her up the ass with his tongue.
In a single smooth motion Cheri rolled over and Al was gifted with the vision of her cunt, her cunt-mound all arrayed with fine strands of dark hair, and the shadowed slit of her crotch. Al dove right to work and Cheri spread her legs, reaching down to clasp Al's head in her fingers as he burrowed his tongue into her cunt, tickling, driving it in until she was letting out little rhythmic yelps and banging her cunt hard into his lips and tongue and teeth. Al was licking and chewing to his heart's content, but suddenly he got the message. His cock was telling him it wanted a piece of the action, too.
Al climbed further up the towel and, standing on his knees, slid his trunks down. His cock arched at an angle away from the liberally-furred tangle of his crotch, bobbing semi-stiff in the air. He hoped Cheri liked it.
Cheri did! Al came up next to Cheri and, taking his cock into his hand, let it slide up and down Cheri's pussyslit, dawdling, pressing it inward. Her cunt was wide and cherry-tinted inside, and with a single plunging arch Al sank it deep into more sensation than he had ever known before. Maybe it was crazy, but the sensation of having his prick lodged into that chick's cunt seemed to carry to him all her youth, all her longing.
Al smiled, even as he jogged his cock in her. Maybe it was just that she was a hell of a lot tighter than any pussy he had had for a very long time! He'd just seen the end of fifteen long years of misery married to Irma, his thankfully ex, and he was feeling an incredible relief being out of that trap, hoping he would never lets himself be hogtied and humiliated, ass-fucked by a shrewish woman like that again. Al slid Cheri's bikini top off of the twin, glistening mounds of her tits and stared at the two little ruddy-pink bobbing nipple-castles sitting atop those two big white hillocks of breast. His hands reached out and, as he continued to prick her down below, his hands molded and caressed her tits. Cheri moaned and writhed, and Al loved the look of pleasure on her face, her mouth lolling wickedly open, her tongue going out to dodge over and glisten her lips.
Al just kept on banging. He was harder than he ever remembered being before, even in his college days when he was giving Irma a chase around the block, and his cock felt like some kind of a sawed-off broomstick handle shoved up the little wench's crotch. He felt like he could have banged away on her tight little pussy for an hour, for a week, forever.
Cheri just couldn't believe that cock of Al's! He just kept ramming and slamming, punishing the inside of her cunt with it! He was so hard, and he was going on for so long! Obviously he wasn't quite the over-the-hill guy that she might have thought at first blush! She was already out of control, feeling like she was experiencing one long, continuous orgasm as he beat that pecker hard and repeatedly into her, beat that pussy into whimpering, total submission with it like it had needed for ever so long! Al was so forceful, so strong, like a raging bull plowing into her from above, and just when she didn't think she could take another stroke of that big, stony prick of his she was shattering ... shattering into a hundred pieces as the sweet pinkness of her orgasm engulfed her whole body. Convulsing, it seemed like the universe was turning into sweet soft ecstasy, and that all of her ecstasy was molded around the hard rod of Al's prick that now ... fired a streamer of molten jizz to splatter deep into her, burning her inside, burning her like she had always wanted to be burned....
* * *
"She fuckin' what?" Bob asked, his face outwardly showing no expression.
"I said she went to Lake Tahoe. I'm not going to make any excuses, if you expect me to. C'mon out of the doorway, and I'll show you the note."
Bob followed Betty into the kitchen, his mind whirling, not knowing what to think. She handed him the note from Cheri, and he read it, then read it one more time just to be sure.
"You want a cup of coffee?" Betty asked.
Bob looked up from the note. "Uh, sure." He sat down at the kitchen table, then looked at the note again. "Tahoe? What business has she got in...." Betty could almost see the gears in Bob's mind spinning, could almost hear them whirring as he sorted through the mystery of Cheri taking off without advance notice. "And another thing, where did she get the dough to go there? She blew the last of her savings on fixing the transmission in the car a couple of weeks ago...."
Betty handed him the cup of coffee, still waiting for the truth to dawn on Bob.
"Oh," he said, things finally starting to filter through. "Oh."
Bob took a sip of coffee and sat for a moment, thinking. "Do you know this ... this guy she took off with?"
Betty sat across the table from him and sipped at her own coffee. "No, I don't. It was as much of a surprise to me as it is to you. It's my guess that it's somebody she met at work." And then Betty realized that it might not be a guy. It might be Veronica and Cheri fucking their brains out at some resort hotel by the lake, and then she suddenly started to feel heated. She held back her thoughts from Bob, she didn't need to get him any more disturbed than he probably already was.
"That tears it," Bob said, but without anger. "I guess she expects me to be here for her when she gets back from her fuck spree in Tahoe with this new guy of hers. It ain't gonna happen."
Betty bit her lip, and looked at Bob. Suddenly she saw what he was seeing, and she saw that the floodgate that had kept she and Bob apart while he and Cheri were together was rapidly springing leaks.
"I can't say I didn't expect it...." Bob said. "Cheri has a pretty liberal attitude when it comes to sex. She told me that upfront, but I guess I didn't really pay attention. I wanted to hear something else, can you blame me? I guess I was too hot to get into her pants to think about anything else."
"Yeah," Betty said, "other guys have felt that way about her, too. They get hypnotized by her tits, I think."
Agreements were over, now.
Bob reached out his hand, testing the water behind the floodgate. He touched Betty's arm and she lifted her eyes to his. They sparkled.
"Are you sure?" Betty said.
He leaned over and took her in his arms, holding her close, squeezing her. His actions could still be construed as just being comforting, but that wasn't his intention, at all. He could feel the bulbs of her tits pressing right through his shirt. He kissed her on the neck, letting his lips wander further, drifting downward.
Bob," she said, "I don't know if this is such a good idea...."
But by that time it had progressed far beyond an idea, and Betty knew it perfectly well. They both stood up and in one motion Bob popped the snaps of Betty's shirt, stripping it open, exposing her naked tits to view.
"Fuck...." Bob said, staring at the big brown disks of Betty's nipples, at their hard, projecting spikes. His hands went to her little tits, molding them, distorting them within his fingertips and he brought his mouth down to a single nipple, took it in his mouth and worked it with his lips and tongue and teeth, making Betty arch her chest into his face, and to whimper with the sensations. She bucked her crotch against Bob's leg, her hands roving down to work his belt buckle open, then the buttons of his pants. She stripped his pants and underwear down and her cool fingers went out to his hot dick, squeezing, working, bringing it rapidly to attention. Bob lifted her up on the kitchen table, moving the cups of coffee onto a chair. He undid her pants and then dragged them over her hips, watching her pussy-hair arise auburn brown and shimmering. She spread her legs and Bob rapidly levered his body over her, thrust his cock down to her ready, wet pussylips and thrust into her, jolting her on the table, making her grunt with the shock, grunt with the pleasure.
"Shit, Bob," Betty gasped, her face tortured with pleasure, "I've waited for this for so fucking long...."
And Bob had, too. He had wanted to screw Betty practically from the moment that Cheri had introduced them, had even suggested to Cheri on a couple of occasions that it might be fun and harmless to include Betty into their sex play. Now he was going to get the opportunity to find out what Cheri's friend was like in the sack, and he could hardly wait. He hovered over Betty, his hands taking his pleasure, while his naked ass bucked and drove his long, hard stem into her cuntchannel, each stroke making her jerk on the kitchen table, making her gasp with the impact. He leaned down and his ass was going like a machine out of control, pounding his rod deep into her, making her beg for his dick.
"Do me ... Fuck me ... Fuck me!" Betty gasped out, completely oblivious to the fact that she was fucking the guy who had, moments before, been her best friend's lover. "I want it!" she groaned, wrapping her legs around Bob's ass, "I've got to...."
And then Bob drove that final hard flurry of strokes and he too was washed away, was slamming his boner into the center of that fire that was exploding between them, blowing the whole world away....
The difficult part to deal with was after the fuck. Bob and Betty both felt guilty about screwing behind Cheri's back, regardless of what she was up to in Tahoe. They were friends, they were lovers, and it just didn't seem right to be concealing anything from her. It was silly, but that was the way it was. Still, they also both knew that the scene between Bob and Cheri was dead, if only because of the fucking she and he had done, and they knew that something was might be developing between them. They only hoped that it wouldn't destroy their friendship with Cheri.
VI
The marriage proposal that had climaxed their stay at Tahoe had floored Cheri. Of course, Al Monte explained, his divorce would have to be finalized, but then he couldn't think of anything he would rather do than spend the time waiting for his divorce to go through while fucking Cheri at every possible opportunity. It did make a kind of sense, Cheri had to admit. Cheri's head was spinning on the plane all the way back to Portland, still spinning when she pulled into the driveway of her home Sunday night. Both Betty and Bob's cars were parked in front of the house, and she expected quite a scene as she unlocked and entered the front door. No scene awaited, at least not immediately. The lights were out in the living room and the kitchen, the house seeming curiously deserted. Then she noticed that there was a light dimly shining from Betty's door on the upstairs landing.
Cheri tapped quietly on Betty's door, and then swung the door open. Somehow, she had expected this, and knew that Bob and Betty had arranged the scene for her benefit, probably to teach her some kind of a lesson that she couldn't deny she needed being taught. They were both sitting up in bed, sheets pulled to their waist, and they were quite naked above the sheets.
"Hello, Cheri," Bob said with a sober expression on his face, "did you have a fun weekend? Betty and I certainly did. We've been continuously fucking since Friday night. I hope you had fun in Tahoe, cause you sure missed out on some serious screwing back here."
"I would prefer it if you didn't try and fuck with my mind," Cheri said, looking at her friend and her ex-lover, wishing that she was somewhere, anywhere else than here.
Bob smiled. "Oh, by the way," he said, "thanks for the note. Damned thoughtful of you, sweetheart. Didn't want me to worry, I guess."
Cheri looked at Betty and Bob. "You're right. I deserve everything I get. I'm not blaming you two, at all. I guess I could have presented it to you a little better, Bob. I guess I didn't have to leave you with the responsibility of handling the scene with Bob, either, Betty. I fucked up. I admit it. I seriously fucked up! What can I say? I'm sorry." And with that Cheri turned and left the room, and walked down the stairs. The fact of the matter was that she didn't quite know what she would do next. She did know that she didn't feel like spending the night at home. The situation with Bob might turn into an argument or, if it didn't, she would spend the night in her bedroom thinking about he and Betty screwing their brains out in the other room. She got into her car and drove around without any particular destination in mind, just traveling on winding side streets, going in circles until she discovered that by accident or by some design she was unaware of she had driven to Veronica's neighborhood, a rather ritzy, tree-lined suburb of Portland. She waited outside without going up to the house for a long time, not really sure if this was what she should be doing. Finally, deciding she would rather confront Veronica than spend a night in a motel, she walked up to the door.
* * *
Cheri knocked on the door and, after waiting a few moments, the door swung open. A girl stood in the doorway, but it wasn't Veronica.
"Oh, hi!" she said, smiling cheerily in counter' point to Cheri's somewhat shitty mood, "C'mon in ... Things are only just getting started ... Don't worry, you haven't missed anything...."
The girl standing in the door surprised her, but beyond that was her unusual dress. A towel, simply. That was all she was wearing, although Cheri couldn't think of any type of apparel that would have looked nicer or more appropriate on her.
She clutched the towel tightly to her body, trying to somehow get it to cover all the parts it was supposed to, but didn't quite. Her tits, for instance. Now those were certainly worth taking note of. They were big, and if she pulled the towel up to cover both of those big mounds, it slid off of her crotch hair which, by the way, was a lovely dark blonde, Cheri soon found out.
She followed her down the hall leading to Veronica's living room and couldn't help but admire the swiveling of the chick's full, firm ass-cheeks as she led the way. When they reached the living room she threw off the towel altogether, tossing it into a chair, uncaring of who saw her nakedness.
There were five women in the living room, all of them equally and wonderfully naked. A couple of them were standing and chatting casually, with drinks in their hand, and the others were sitting on the couch and a chair that had been pulled into conversational reach, looking like they were having a standard coffee klatch sans apparel. Veronica was one of the women that were sitting, and when she saw Cheri enter she quickly rose from the couch, and walked over to her.
"Cheri! What a surprise!" Cheri stared as Veronica approached her, nude, her eyes affixed to the jiggle of her two titan-sized tits, to the swaying of her big, black triangle of cunt-hair. "I was just having an intimate little gathering with a few of my closest friends ... I hope you can stay?" Intimate was right, Cheri thought!
Cheri stumbled over her answer, wondering, and yet knowing what she was getting herself into. "I ... Well, I'm not really....", then she blurted it out: "Veronica, do you have a few moments to spare to talk with me?"
Veronica could see that something was bothering Cheri. "Sure," she said. She turned to the naked assemblage. "Ladies, pardon us for a moment...."
Veronica took Cheri through a nearby doorway and into her bedroom. "It's the only part of the house that's private...."
Both of the women sat on the bed, Veronica crossing her legs underneath her, and Veronica said, "Spit it out, kid. What's bothering you? Is it the thing that's developed between you and me? If it is, I'll understand...."
"No, no," Cheri said, "at least, that's only part of it. It's just that in one stroke I seem to have alienated all of my friends ... and lovers ... and I didn't mean for it to happen that way, at all. See, I got involved ... I don't know if 'involved' is the right word ... with you, and of course that was great, and then Betty, my best friend, got all freaked out about that! I don't know exactly what the deal is, but I think she might have some kind of thing going for me that she never told me about. I told you that I'd had one lesbian encounter before? Well, that was with Betty, and although we never screwed again, maybe there was still some feeling lingering there with her. That was just the start, though. Then, I got 'involved' with this older guy named Al. Al Monte, he's a client of the firm. Do you happen to know him?"
"Al Monte?" Veronica said, her face betraying incredulity. "With him?"
Cheri nodded. "Yeah. Well, that blew up in my face when my boyfriend Bob found out that Al and I were spending the weekend up in Tahoe. Now, to get back at me, he and Betty are screwing around, and I don't know if they have something going, or whether it's just to spite me. The crazy thing is, I'm jealous! It's stupid, but that's just the way I feel, and I can't seem to do anything about it! And now, the topper. After our weekend at Lake Tahoe, Al asked me to marry him. Right out of the fucking blue he pops it on me! I just don't know what to do!"
"Look, sister," Veronica said, moving closer on the bed to Cheri, putting her arm around her in a gesture of sisterly concern, "don't be so fucking worried about what other people are doing or thinking, or who they're screwing. You'll drive yourself around the bend thinking like that! Don't worry about who anyone else is fucking and don't worry about whether I, or Betty, or whashisname are going to approve of who you're fucking, or marrying, or whatever! It's none of their-it's none of our fucking business. It's for you to decide." She placed her hand on Cheri's leg and rubbed it reassuringly, and perhaps a bit more than reassuringly. "The important thing sounds like this marriage bit ... Do you want to marry the guy, or are you just being railroaded into it? Al Monte has a ton of money, are you sure that that might not be influencing your decision just a little bit?"
"I don't know!" Cheri said, shaking her head, "I just don't know!"
"Good," Veronica said. "Then don't worry about it! You're going to need some more time to think about it. Can you tell him that? Can you put him off for a while, while you give it some consideration, just so you don't make some stupid fucking move that you're going to regret for the rest of your life."
"Yeah, I'm sure I can...."
"Okay." Veronica pulled Cheri close and hugged her, squeezing her naked tits against the other woman. "That wasn't so fucking difficult, was it? You just tell him to give you a little time to think about it, and in the meantime, you relax. It's your life, Cheri, don't let people shove you into and out of relationships...."
Cheri nodded, and then Veronica saw a little smile on her face.
"That's the way! Since you're here, I suggest you join the party. Want to? I want you to meet all the chicks and, my intuition tells me, that a nice drink would be just the thing to fix you up...."
Veronica and Cheri stood up, and then Veronica said, "But there's just one thing ... You're not exactly dressed for this party. You're a little overdressed, I would say ... She waved her hand, indicating her own naked body. "When in Rome?"
Cheri nodded, smiled again, and then began to strip. Veronica stood back as she watched, watched intently, as the other woman shed her clothes. Veronica found herself wanting to throw the little babe down on the bed and fuck her right then, to fuck her with her fingers, to fuck her with her tongue, but because she was hosting the party she had to beat the urge down, put it on hold until there was a better opportunity.
When Cheri was nude, Veronica said, "C'mon. This is your coming out party...."
When Veronica and Cheri walked into the living room there were actually a couple of wolf whistles from the girls! It was obvious to Cheri what this little group was; a lesbian party, but somehow she didn't feel uncomfortable with the fact. She found herself admiring the bodies, the faces of the women present and, much to her surprise, actually getting turned-on seeing them in the nude under such close circumstances and in such an intimate situation. Two of the women, sitting on the couch, were actually making out, feeling up each other's bodies as they kissed and touched and twined around each other.
"Hey, everybody," Veronica said, alerting the two who were obliviously involved on the couch, "I want you all to meet a friend of mine. This is Cheri. We work together and, well, I love her dearly."
It was nice, Cheri thought, that Veronica had omitted the fact that she was a lawyer and that Cheri was a lowly legal secretary. Now, that was a friend.
"Cheri," Veronica continued, "this is Cory...." Cory, the girl who had met her at the door wearing the towel, appeared to be the youngest of the group-nineteen, Cheri would have guessed, With a boyish, fresh beauty that Cheri was certain must have gotten a lot of studs interested in her, too.
"Nice to meet you, Cheri," Cory said, without rising from the couch, but offering Cheri a sweet smile that promised much more to come, that Chen thought seemed to say that the chick was very, very available.
"Cory is a physical education teacher, you could have guessed that from her body, right?" Veronica laughed. "She may look like an innocent little thing, but believe me, looks can be deceptive."
Still, Veronica spoke the truth about Cory's looks. Cory was a slight bit pudgy, but on her it looked great. Her high-thrust, big breasts, capped with big nipples of the purest pink, betrayed not a bit of sag And that blonde pussy, wow!
Where Cory was distinctly voluptuous, the next girl to be introduced was what Cheri might have termed feline. "Lisa, I'd like you to meet Cheri ... ' Lisa smiled sweetly, and Cheri realized she had to admire Veronica's taste in women. She was a small girl .delicately built, delicately featured, in her middle twenties, perhaps just a bit older than Cheri Those eyes ... Lisa had dark brown eyes, so dark that the pupils appeared black., actually a rather startling look. Those dark eyes went perfectly with Lisa's fair ivory skin, with her black hair that hung to her shoulders. Cheri lowered her eyes to take in Lisa's body. All of her seemed to be built to a slightly smaller scale than the other women. Her tits were placed high on her chest, pointed, capped by little dark nipples that invited lips to seek them out, to find. It seemed to Cheri that perhaps during the course of this party her own lips might search them out.
"And Margaret...." Veronica said, turning to the woman sitting in a nearby chair, "you and Cheri will find plenty to bitch about ... See, Margaret happens to be a legal sec, too...."
"I'm glad you could join us tonight, Cheri," Margaret said, standing to extend her hand and to gently take Cheri's. She was another girl, like Veronica, cast in that beautiful-severe mold, but unlike Veronica, she portrayed that same acidic beauty in the purest shades of blonde. She was tall, her long legs stretched out seemingly endlessly on the plush carpeting, and rather thin. There's a Nordic ball-buster for you, Cheri thought....
And the final girl in the group Veronica introduced as Sophie. Now this one was totally to Cheri's taste, another big blonde, but with a sensitiveness of features, a smallness of pink, upturned breasts that suggested an artistic nature, a delicateness of nature.
"Sophie is a construction worker...." Veronica said, shattering Cheri's preconception.
"Is Cheri the surprise you promised us, Veronica? If she is, I must say I'm not in the least bit disappointed!" Sophie said.
"Well," Veronica said, "Cheri's as much of a surprise for me as she is for the rest of you. She wasn't even invited, at least officially, but that was just because I didn't expect her to be in town tonight. Actually, now that she's here I guess I could bring out the surprise I promised ... Are you in the mood for a wild time, Cheri?"
It seemed to Cheri like she was-well, fuck, yes, she was sure she was-and she told her friend so.
"Then just a moment...." Veronica departed the group for a moment, the collective eyes of the group following the swaying of her ass-cheeks as she got up and then returned to her bedroom for the "surprise". The group buzzed on and on about what kind of a undoubtedly sexy treat Veronica might have in store for them.
"What do you think? Maybe she's got a guy in there, or maybe a bunch of guys ... Yeah, I'll bet that's it, some of those guys in hardhats that you see at the male strip shows...." Lisa said, to be greeted by boos and catcalls from the rest of the group.
"Some bondage junk, I'll just bet that's what it is," Sophie said, perhaps from wishful thinking. "Hey, that would be a surprise, right? Don't you think it would be kind of sexy to tie each other up and to have sex then?" The group didn't seem awfully responsive to that idea, either....
The surprise consisted of two featureless, hinged mahogany boxes. Veronica sat them on the coffee table in front of the couch and then stood back, let the women gather around and speculate about what might be in them.
Lisa decided she agreed with Sophie. "I" think bondage stuff, too. You know, straps and stuff like that...."
Cory whispered into Cheri's ear, perhaps a little wistfully, "I sure as fuck hope that they're both right....".
"Dildos. Got to be. You've got to take into consideration the size of whatever is in there. That's about the only thing that would fit into boxes that size." That was Margaret's guess.
Sophie picked up one of the boxes, lifted it, weighing it in her hands, shaking it like a child trying to figure out the contents of a Christmas present. "Maybe I'm going to change my guess. Maybe it's nose candy," she speculated. Veronica's a lawyer, she's got the bread for something like that. "Yeah, something for us to toot...."
Veronica had to smile. "Go ahead, ladies. I hope you like the surprise. Open the boxes up."
Cheri lifted the lid of the first mahogany box, to the accompaniment of the oohs and aahs of the women standing around her.
Inside were two dildos, one a relatively unadorned one, although none the less impressive for it, a flesh-colored plastic model run over the surface with thick veins, the other a shocking purple tinted plastic dong festooned with numerous rows of tickly-looking whiskers all up and down the sides.
"Evil looking bastards, ain't they, girls?" Veronica chuckled, pleased with the reactions of the recipients of her gifts. "I got them with all of you in mind...."
The second box was opened and it contained two non-identical twins to the first pair of plastic puds. One of them was a big red double dong, each end sporting a great, bloated slit prickhead that looked like it was ready to let fire with half-a gallon of machinist's oil, the other a glistening black giant of larger proportions than the other models, so big that a few of the girls voiced their misgivings about the-likelihood of that big fucker fitting up anybody's cunt!.
"That black monstrosity," Margaret said, "What I want to know is whether it will fit up a chick's hole? Are you sure, Veronica?"
Veronica smiled. "Not at all."
Margaret visibly swallowed.
Another chair was pulled near the sofa, and the girls all sat down, huddling together, passing the plastic peckers between them for examination.
Cory picked up the red, two-headed dildo, and raised it to eye level to look more closely at it. "Yes," she said appreciatively, "I think I can see some of the possibilities that this presents...."
Cheri had intercepted the huge black dong as it was being passed around, and was now holding it in her palm while her other hand caressed it, feeling the dark, silken finish, wondering what it would feel like to have that big, silken thing thrust deep into her.
Sophie took the plain, flesh-colored prick and rubbed it over her cheeks, looking like she was in seventh heaven. "Did I ever tell you girls that I used to like my old man to do this to me, to rub his cock on my face ... Yeah, I used to practically beg him to do that...." She brought the dildo lower, looking at it, then she ran a glistening trail of liquid up the venous length of it with her tongue, swirling it around, toying the tip of the pud with the tip of her tongue as if it was a real prick she was using her tongue on.
Sophie purred with pleasure as her tongue found the base of the big, swollen prickhead, and she ran tongue strokes up and down the long, bloated flesh-colored bulb of it.
"Mmmmm...." Cheri moaned, watching Sophie work her tongue over the head of the prick, and then Lisa leaned closer to her, lifted the black dildo out of her lap where she had sat it.
"You like that, do you, Cheri?" Lisa said, her eyes hooding lustfully, and then she took the black dildo and ran it over the top of Cheri's breasts, rubbing it in swirling circles, stopping before the black plastic got to Cheri's nipples.
Cheri purred with pleasure as the dildo moved over her naked breasts, and Lisa leaned close, watching as the other woman's nipples became taut, hardening and going spiky before her eyes. Cheri closed her eyes and lolled back on the couch, letting the other woman have an open holiday to do whatever she wanted with the dildo on her body.
Soon the motion, the erotic, swirling motion of the plastic pud had progressed down Cheri's tits, down her belly, to be slid and caressed over her upper legs and thighs.
Veronica, too, liked the looks of that action, and left her chair to join Lisa and Cheri. Veronica knelt at Cheri's feet and let her hands climb Cheri's legs, touching, caressing, while her mouth descended and she started to run long cat-like licks up and down Cheri's calves and legs.
Suddenly, seeing what the girls were doing, the game seemed to turn into a delicious, benign form of "get the newcomer".
Cory leaned over and, fascinated with Cheri's tits from the first moment she had seen them, now had her opportunity to sample them. And she did, with her fingers, her lips, her tongue; kissing, sucking, caressing. Sophie approached from the other side and brought her mouth to Cheri's, moaning as their lips met and her tongue dodged wetly, hotly into the other girl's mouth, kissing her.
Lisa had escalated her play to start toying the big, black boner over Cheri's dark-thatched pussy, rubbing it up and down, swirling it over the exterior of her pussy lips. Cheri simply could not control her pleasure as so many hands, so many mouths, so many surrogate members crawled over her. She just let her body go with the flow, her eyes closed, relaxing into the swirling, erotic sensations as the other women determined to give her a fucking like she had never had before.
Margaret was starting to drive Veronica mad with her attentions from behind. She had slid up behind the naked woman, and as Veronica subjugated herself, worshipping at the legs, the calves, the feet of Cheri, Margaret took a big handful of Veronica's long, dark-nippled tit, grasping it, working the nipple in her fingertips, while she angled the big purple dong into Veronica's hindquarters. Veronica was gasping for any number of reasons as Margaret probed with that plastic prick into her anus, then decided it wasn't going to work unless she eased its passage in some way. While Veronica kissed, licked, sucked at Cheri's feet and toes Margaret slid up behind her and started to lick her ass, wetting her ass-hole, shoving her finger into the other woman's anus to relax it. Then she licked the big, purple head of the dong and brought it flush with Veronica's up-thrust ass, shoving it, pushing it until it slid smoothly in and Veronica arched like she had been impaled. Margaret started pumping that dildo up Veronica's ass to the accompaniment of Veronica's loud gasps and moans:
"Oh, fuck! Oh, shit! In the ass! Fuck me right up my ass! Do it, harder, please!"
Lisa had seen the way that Margaret had lubed her dildo, and decided that that looked like fun, too. She slid off the couch and reached up to Cheri's crotch, spreading the cunt lips with her fingertips, bringing her mouth down and starting to lick and kiss and suck, liberally depositing her saliva into Cheri's pussycrack to ease the thrust of the dildo. There was no room at that beautiful watering hole for Sophie, so she took second best, sliding off the couch and joining Margaret, but to shove the dildo that she was clutching up Lisa. They could hear Lisa's muffled gasps and cries, muffled in Cheri's cunt, as Sophie drove the dong up her pussy from the rear.
The whole mass of women was a pumping, writhing, moaning tangle as they shifted, angled, threw a leg over to provide easier access of a dildo or a tongue or a finger to some hungry hole. And at the center of the cyclone of fucking was Cheri!
With a thrust lubricated by the passage her mouth had made Lisa drove that huge black boner into Cheri and she gasped and cried out. Shit, that plastic prong was bigger than any man's she had ever felt! Lisa started to rhythmically ram the boner in and out to the accompaniment of Cheri's rhythmic groans, going in cadence with the smooth passage of the other dildos as they worked this or that ass-hole or cunt. Cheri's eyes were closed, intensifying the sensations, as she was buffeted, molded by so many mouths, so many fingers, so many plastic pricks. One woman was having a field day eating out Cheri's mouth, sucking her extended tongue like it was a prick, while two other hands molded her tit like warm, sweaty clay. One tit was being licked, sucked, while that dildo just kept thrusting up her crotch channel, making her shiver with delight, making her head swirl with delirium, and driving her closer and closer to her explosion of ecstasy. She could feel one woman's hand snaked around her ass, clutching and probing her finger into her ass-hole to the beating of that dildo in her twat, and she could hear the continued rhythmic groans of the two woman kneeling in front of her and being rammed up the ass and the pussy by dildos.
The action just kept increasing, the woman just kept shifting, working other holes, fucking other women for what seemed to Cheri to be an endless amount of time until finally she didn't think she could take another moment before she exploded. But still those fingers kept coaxing, running over her tits, dabbling and twirling and torturing her clit, shoving up her ass-hole, plunging and probing, and that dildo kept slamming, slamming, slamming until a scream welled up deep in Cheri's chest and, as her whole body exploded in a nova of delicious fire she screamed her lungs out with the pleasure.
VII
Cheri had her plan worked out perfectly by the time Michael exited the elevators carrying a couple of parcels. There was no doubt that he was a handsome slab of meat, all right, made even more so by that uniform and by the short pants. And fuck! Look at his face! As if that vain ass-hole didn't fucking know it! Cheri's "A.M. fuck" deposited the two parcels on the edge of the desk, and without preamble, said:
"Ten minutes?" He glanced around to make sure that two women who were sitting nearby, waiting on an appointment, were properly entranced by his physique, and then turned back to Cheri for confirmation. And he wouldn't have accepted anything but confirmation, she knew that.
"Ten minutes," she said, and then gave him the sweetest smile she was capable of conjuring up at the moment. Yes, she had her plan worked out perfectly....
"Good!" Michael said, and then, practically purring, he added, "This prick of mine is as hard as a rock and I can't wait to sink it into those rosy petals of yours...." Michael picked up his package and then, pivoting on his heel, he headed back to the elevator. He flashed the two women waiting for an appointment a smile that made them giggle and whisper to each other.
"If I'm not there, go on without me...." Cheri mumbled under her breath, and then laughed out loud.
This had to be worked out, practically to the exact second if it was going to come off as Cheri had planned. First off, she had to give Michael just a little more time than usual....
Cheri punched a button on the inter-office communicator. "Carmine? You ready?" Cheri took out a nail file and meditatively filed the edge of a fingernail until Carmine came in to take her place. Then, unlike her usual routine, Cheri went to the elevator, going down only one floor to alert some of the other girls working in the building, some of whom, she suspected, knew Michael Blade quite well.
Cheri went to several offices and things began to take on the look of the pied piper of Hamlin. By the time she returned to her business office there was a knot of eight women with her. They went through the door that led to the freight elevator, then boarded it.
Angelo didn't know what the hell was going on as he saw the veritable lynch mob of women approaching on the little television screen. He scratched his head and mumbled something about women's lib having finally gone too far.
"C'mon, Angelo," Cheri said, you might as well join us for the fun!"
Michael Blade had arrived at his truck ahead of Cheri, and wondered where the fuck she was. Well, it wasn't the first time she had been late, but he decided it wouldn't be a good idea to get on her case about his tight schedule, and all that. She had seemed to be in a bit of a mood lately, and in fact he was a little afraid that he was going to lose the chick, and then he'd have to go through all the trouble of scoring another little morning fuck in the Portland Plaza building, and that might take a few days. Besides, Cheri was a good little lay, and it would be hard to find a chick with tits as nice as hers. In addition to that she was friends with Angelo, the security guard, and Michael was pretty sure that Angelo was in no mood to be doing him any favors if Cheri wasn't somehow part of the equation. Michael climbed into the van via the side door and then went into the back.
Yeah, he'd better start treating that little chickie just a little nicer, or she might decide to dump him. For starters, he guessed he could have done better in giving her what she wanted, pay a little more attention to whether she had come or not. That wouldn't be all that hard ... Shit, she was a nice little screw....
Michael went into the back of the van and arranged the blanket on the floor, moving a few parcels aside. Maybe, he thought, I could even bring her a bunch of flowers, or something. That would probably cheer her up; chicks like flowers, after all, for some strange reason ... Yeah, she is a pretty cute little fuck. In Michael's mind's eye he could see a composite picture of some of the times that Cheri had been spread out on the floor of the van, her dress hiked up around her waist and her panties discarded to one side. Often times she would pull her dress down and let those big, soft boobs erupt from their cups, spilling those big, pink-capped mounds out to be fondled and suckled by him. It would definitely be hard to locate a nicer set of titty, all right, and she was worth keeping if only on that account.
Michael sat down on the blanket and undid his belt, then slid his shorts and underwear down. His rod was pretty limp, and he didn't exactly want to have Cheri see him with anything but a big, manly boner between his legs, so he took his cock in his hand and started to gently work it. His thoughts focused in on what lay between Cheri's spread legs, that sweet, wide, pink-glistening slash all surrounded by baby-fine pussy hair, and he started to stroke his cock, pretending that his peter was shoved deep up her hole, being clutched and milked by the tight, slick walls of her cunt. Yeah, baby, yeah, Michael thought, that's the way. He could feel his cock hardening in his hand, and it wouldn't be long until it was just the way it should be to impress Cheri. Maybe today they would try something a little different, maybe a little tighter ... Michael thought about the little pink pucker of Cheri's ass-hole, and debated with himself about whether that was his prick's destiny this fine morning. It would feel awfully nice to have his bone shoved up that tight bunghole of hers again, but would she enjoy it as much? Remember, he thought, that chick may be slipping away a little bit, so for a few days you're going to have to humor her, give her what she wants ... Michael decided that maybe he'd better give her something a little more traditional. He'd give her a standard missionary position fuck ala mode, but to make it just a little more special he'd be sure to eat her out first, give her the whole fucking nine yards with his mouth. He didn't have all the time in the world to waste, so he'd have to cut that off after a while, but he was sure that Cheri would enjoy it anyway, even if it was only for a minute or two. And when he screwed her, he'd make a point to not get in such a hurry ... This time, for the first and only and he hoped last time, he would make it a point to give her an orgasm. That would keep her satisfied for a week or two, anyway....
By this time Michael's pud had turned into a firm rod cradled in his hand. His prick was hard and standing straight upright, his balls hard and nut-like and ready to fire off a burst of sperm into the first available hole, be it keyhole, knothole, or whatever....
That's the way he thought, admiring his own dick as he gently frigged it in his fingertips, pleased with the way the head was engorged and purplishly glistening, now if only that fucking bitch Cheri would fucking get here so I could do something with the fucking thing!
And that was when Cheri did arrive, along with the little group of women that had now grown to eleven, not including Angelo, who was trailing up the rear. She swung the rear doors to the van opened and announced:
"Introducing Michael Blade, superstud extraordinaire in his last world performance at the Portland Plaza!"
Michael was so stunned to see the doors to the van swing open, and to see the wide-eyed stares of the eleven women and one man, that all he could do was to sit there. He still held his hard prick in his hand, but his expression was one of complete disbelief and shock.
And then the laughter began. It began as a single chuckle, but the sounds of amusement grew until the whole group were guffawing their asses off, the sound reverberating, echoing in the truck bay. Michael Blade could feel his hard prick begin to wither in his fingers, growing cooler, growing smaller. In a matter of moments he was holding a little, limp worm that looked almost as pathetic as the expression that he had on his face.
If that wasn't enough, that was when the flashbulbs went off. Three of the women had brought cameras, and were using them to take pictures of Michael Blade that would appear on office bulletin boards, anonymously placed, all throughout the Portland Plaza building within the next few days.
"Fuck!" Blade screamed, and then tried to get up, his arms flailing out, his legs unable to find purchase as the group continued to laugh and to take pictures. Finally he reeled over to the doors and slammed them shut and stood there fuming in the darkness of the van, his pants still hanging around his ankles.
That fucking bitch! That fucking Cheri! He'd fucking get back at her! That ungrateful little slut, making a fool out of him before all of those broads, and Angelo, too! He'd fucking get back at her ... He'd....
Blade bent over and pulled his pants up. He pulled his zipper up and then buckled his belt. The fucking humiliation! Shit! Every one of those broads was a secretary for some business or other in the Plaza, and he had to deal with them every day! He'd get back, he'd....
He climbed into the driver seat, and then he turned to see the man's face staring at him through the open window. It was Angelo.
"Nice show," Angelo said, smirking. "The ladies seemed to get a big kick out of it...."
Blade just fumed, not saying anything. He fumbled in his pocket for the key to the ignition.
"By the way, Michael, buddy...." Angelo said, smiling cordially, "if you're thinking of doing something to mess with Cheri to pay her back for this little expose of you today? Well, buddy, I wouldn't suggest it ... If I hear that you've annoyed her in the slightest, then I'm going to look you up. And I can be damned annoying, when I want to be...."
Blade believed Angelo.
* * *
Cheri thanked Carmine and was back at her desk before her break was over. She was still chuckling about the look on Michael Blade's face when William St. John Kuhlman got off the elevator, carrying his briefcase, and approached her desk.
He leaned close to Cheri's ear, so the two women waiting wouldn't hear what he was going to offer. "I heard that was quite a party at Veronica's the other night...."
Cheri stiffened in her chair. "Oh, really?" Cheri said, coolly.
"Yes. At least that's what I heard. A friend of mine heard a couple of the girls at the party talking about it at a ... a bar, and just happened to mention to me that you were at Veronica's party. It didn't break up until the following morning, did it?"
Cheri didn't say anything. Well, she thought, so much for living a secret life!
"You know," Kuhlman said, "I've heard those parties of Veronica's get pretty wild...."
Cheri stood up. She didn't have to take this kind of shit from this sawed-off shithead, not anymore, she didn't....
She started to walk toward the rear doors and Kuhlman followed her, practically hanging on to her.
"Yes," Kuhlman continued, "I've heard those parties of Veronica's are pretty wild; those lesbian parties...."
That was when Cheri turned to Kuhlman and delivered a punch that would have made Sugar Ray Leonard proud. Kuhlman literally took to the air, then skidded across the plush carpeting on his ass for a few feet to crash into a potted plant that fell over on him, dumping dirt into his lap.
"Yes," Cheri said thoughtfully, "it was a pretty wild party...."
The timing could hardly have been any more perfect. Johnny Dearer had just gotten out of the elevator and was approaching Cheri's desk when he stood stock still and let events take their course. Hell, he didn't even know Kuhlman, but Kuhlman had given him a ration of shit a few times about being late, and that kind of shit. So, it was with some pleasure that Johnny watched Cheri cock her fist and let old Kuhlman have it right in the kisser in as good an imitation of a lumberjack's roundhouse as he had ever seen, outside of a lumber mill, that is.
"Damn," Johnny Dearer mumbled under his breath as Cheri walked by him, smiling from ear-to-ear, "that's one hell of a fuckin' woman!
* * *
From the reaction of Bob and Betty when Cheri arrived, they must have planned it all out.
Cheri drove into the driveway and noted that both of their cars were sitting there. She prepared for the inevitable confrontation, running through her mind what she was going to say, how she was going to deal with the anger and the accusations that were likely to occur.
Cheri opened the door and walked in. Bob and Betty were sitting on the living room couch. That, by itself, was not unusual. The fact that they were sitting there naked was.
"Did I interrupt something?" Cheri said, recalling the time when she and Betty had hurriedly gotten dressed so that Bob wouldn't find out they had been fucking.
Betty smiled. "Not at all."
Bob smiled, too, and Cheri wondered if she was going crazy. "No, Cheri," he said, "we were expecting ... waiting for you...."
Bob and Betty walked over to Cheri, and she scrutinized their bodies as they approached, looking at Bob's cock hanging half-hard from his hairy crotch, at the enticing bobbing of Betty's little, knob-like boobs and the swaying of her hips as she approached. When they got next to Cheri each of them took one of her hands and led her toward the stairway.
"We talked it over," Betty said.
"We decided we were stupid to get on your case," Bob added.
"It was none of our business who-or how-you were fucking. It was just jealousy on our part, because we both care about you so much...."
"And," Bob said, "we hope you'll forget all about it. We want to make it up to you...."
And make it up to her they did. They led her up the stairs and into Betty's room. Betty was ordinarily not a great housekeeper but she had obviously tried to make her room as inviting as possible, even going so far as to put a brand-new coverlet on the bed.
They led Cheri on to the bed, had her lay down with all of her clothes on, and then proceeded to do everything either of them knew how to make her feel wonderful, and they succeeded.
Each of them started at the opposite end of Cheri's prone body, working toward the center of her. They took it slow, so very slow. Bob removed her shoes and then started to work on Cheri's feet, kissing and licking them, sucking each individual toe in turn, while Betty started at Cheri's head, kissing and licking her hairline, moving steadily downward. Cheri was so flabbergasted, yet pleased, that all she could do was to let them have their way with her. Bob seemed to be enjoying Cheri's toes, her feet, her ankles, caressing them, moving back and forth between them, that he was in no hurry to move onward and upward. Betty, on the other hand, had already progressed to Cheri's pretty face. She began to slowly and languorously kiss Cheri's eyelids, her cheeks, her forehead, then she dropped down to nibble at Cheri's earlobes. Cheri already felt like she was at a fever pitch of excitation when Betty really upped the ante by snaking her wet tongue into Cheri's ear, panting into it, dodging it and diving and twirling it, sending shudders of pleasure all throughout Cheri's body.
"You know, you guys don't really have to do this, you know you don't owe me anything...." Cheri protested, only to have Betty say:
"We think we do owe you something, Cheri ... Now, just enjoy it...."
And so enjoy it Cheri did.
Betty paused at Cheri's mouth to kiss her, letting her tongue dive in and wrestle with the other woman's tongue, while Bob worked steadily higher with his own tongue, laving Cheri's ankles, then calves, then knees with great care and no hurry at all. Betty did not stay long at Cheri's mouth, but lowered her kisses and licks to Cheri's neck, kissing and licking until the other woman was panting, then her kisses spiraled downward. Betty unbuttoned Cheri's blouse to the pleasure of her and Bob, then helped her slide out of it, leaving her only in her bra and skirt. Then Betty began to kiss the top portions of Cheri's tits, exposed outside of the bra cups, not pushing her attentions too far, still leaving the bra on until Cheri had wrapped her fingers in Betty's hair and was begging, pushing Betty's face into her tits, aching for her to mold them in her hands, to suck the tormented nipples. Betty obliged.
"Turn over," she said, and Cheri turned on her side while Betty undid the clasp to her bra. Bob took the opportunity to switch over to the back of Cheri's legs with his licking, then reached up to unzip her skirt. As Betty peeled Cheri's bra off of her, Bob slid her skirt down her legs and then off. Both of them were really getting excited, not to mention Cheri!
Cheri remained lying on her side as Bob brought his kisses and his tongue within inches of her ass; Betty licked and kissed, carefully withholding her hands from Cheri's breasts until they felt that she was right at the edge of going berserk with lust, and then it was as if the floodgates had burst and all of that sex came tumbling out.
Bob went right between Cheri's ass-cheeks, kissing her right through her panties, licking the long crack of her ass right through the silken covering. Cheri was gasping and moaning, bucking her ass into Bob's face so that he got a noseful of her earthy musk. It was enough to make him want more, much more. Betty's hand and mouth were going wild on Cheri's big, moldable boobs, her fingers working the nipples, her mouth doing the same. Betty was like a starving person, starving for those tits, those beautiful pink nipples. She sucked, she licked until Cheri's nipples went tight, taut, the little tips standing up hard and quivering.
Bob dragged Cheri's panties down and feasted, his tongue going right into her grasping ass-hole, diving in, swirling, pummeling into the tight, puckered little hole while Cheri bucked and moaned. Bob spread Cheri's ass-cheeks and made like a starving man at a feast, reveling in the taste, the smell, chewing and kissing and licking until Cheri was out of her mind with pleasure-and then he fucked her.
Sidling up next to her his bone was already on red alert, and he angled the upsticking staff right at her pussy. As Betty swung herself around and Cheri clamped her legs in her arms to give her friend '69", Bob slid the snout of his bone up flush with the saliva-lubed, and the cunt-juice-lubed lips of Cheri's twat. With a single burrowing stroke he sank his prick into Cheri, embedding it deep, feeling it stiffly lodged up into her guts, and then, as Betty and Cheri humped each other, taking full mouthfuls of each other's dripping twats, Bob began to stroke and to bang.
With each thrust Cheri grunted out her pleasure, her body jolted as his bone slammed deep, and the sensation was increased by the jabbing, torturous dodging of Betty's hard, wet tongue as it slapped and punished Cheri's clit. Betty spread the wet salmon lips of Cheri's pussy and chewed, sucked and chewed and licked, each impact of her tongue sending Cheri's pussy into tiny shivering fits, while Cheri cried out her pleasure into the muffling flesh folds of Betty's cunt.
At that rate it didn't take a hell of a long time until all three of them were hovering at the edge of their orgasms, pumping those last wild strokes, suspended in some timeless moment where the slashing joy of their cum waited to overtake them, to blow them apart with ecstasy.
Betty clamped down hard on Cheri's clit, vibrating the mound of her mons pubis with two fingers, then Cheri reached around to ram her index finger deep and to twiddle it in the far reaches of Betty's ass-hole like some tiny prick come to roost there. Bob bellowed with joy, his hands going wild, flailing, grasping, slapping Cheri's tits as his juice sprang forth sizzling out of his cock and splattered deep, splattered deliciously into Cheri's cunt, and as that burning juice sizzled into her own orgasm overtook her and she gasped and wailed and gargled her joy into her friend's wet, grasping pussy.
VIII
Cheri was sitting at her dressing table without a single care in the world, touching up her makeup, making sure that everything, just everything was perfect for her and for Al on this incredible, special day.
This, after all, was the day that all of her adventures of late had added up to, the day, she realized, that she had been waiting for all her life. She looked in the mirror once again, for what must have been the five hundredth time that day, to assess her appearance, to make sure that she was as perfect as she knew Al hoped she would be. Yes, she thought, I'm ready.
The beautiful girl in the mirror smiled back from the mirror, too, radiant in her ivory lace bride's gown with the seed pearls that adorned the neck and the bodice. Nothing but the best for my wife, Al Monte had said, and he had meant it; the dress had set him back thousands, but he had insisted even over Cheri's protests that nothing that imagine was necessary for her. And now Cheri was intent that it should be the same for Al, nothing but the best for him. They would have a beautiful ceremony that would go off without a single hitch, and then, tonight, they would fuck like no one had ever fucked before. Nothing but the best.
It was amazing, truly amazing, how things had worked out, even against all the crazy, impossible odds. For one thing, there was Al. If, when Cheri had first met Al Monte in the office, someone had said to her, "That dude is going to be your husband ... ," she would have never, could have never believed it for a moment. The way she saw Al then, he was too old, too fat, too ethnic; he was nothing at all like the pseudo-California beach boys that Cheri had always favored, the muscular jocks who had never had much to say and that Cheri had been thankful that they didn't. Michael Blade, for instance; the ass-hole who had pulled a quickie for her every morning for God knows how long. Al was nothing like Michael Blade, nothing whatsoever, and for that she was awfully grateful.
You had to know Al to really appreciate him, to really get the feel for him. Al was ... Al ... Well, he kind of grew on you, Cheri thought. It took awhile, as it did with some people. She remembered the look on Betty's face when she had first introduced Al to her at a party they had thrown in honor of their engagement, the look that said: "Him?" Well, yes, him. And Bob, it was the same way. She knew that Bob just didn't have a clue why she had chosen Al and not him. Didn't he have everything on Al, except for bags of money? The fact was, it didn't matter. She had chosen, and she wasn't going back on her choice, she wasn't even looking back.
Veronica had sure had some choice comments to make about Al-she had known Al in a business capacity for quite some time-but Cheri knew that all of those sour grapes stemmed from jealousy. She knew that Veronica was really starting to enjoy the hot relationship that had developed between the both of them, especially after the way it had intensified at the lesbo party, and was sorry to see it end. If it had been up to Veronica, that round of wild sister fucking-sister parties would have gone on into the next century.
Veronica even admitted, although without a trace of spite, that she was in love with Cheri and had been for a very long time, but that whatever it was that Cheri wanted, she could live with it. As she had put it, fuck, she would have to! She didn't have any choice! They could still be, she hoped, friends and business associates. Cheri had told her, honestly, that that could never end, at least the friends part.
Her life as a secretary was destined to terminate after she was Mrs. Al Monte, hell, it would have been pretty hard to work in the same office as Kuhlman after she had decked him!
And then, after the crazy and extended fucking bout with Betty and Bob that signalled that they had forgiven her, that they had finally understood why she had acted the way she had, there had been that tearful reunion with them. Shit, even Bob was on the verge of crying! Betty had admitted that she too was in love with Cheri, had been for forever and a day, and made pretty much the same commitment as did Veronica, that the marriage was not going to sever their friendship. Betty said that they would always remain best friends, and Cheri told her that that was the way it would have to be. Sometimes in this life you don't get to keep your cake and eat it too, was the phrase that Betty had chosen to describe the change in their relationship.
Al's divorce was finalized under the "able" representation of William St. John Kuhlman, and Al didn't even seem to much mind that the ex-Mrs. Monte took him to the cleaners financially. Now that Cheri had said she would marry him, he said it seemed like his whole life was starting over and he just couldn't give a fuck about losing a few bucks.
As Cheri sat in front of the mirror, playing with, making sure that the veil was affixed just right, she thought she heard the door opening, then disregarded it. She wasn't sure, then realized it was probably one of the bride's maids and went back to primping and making sure every detail was just right. It wasn't one of the bride's maids, however.
Looking into the mirror, Cheri saw her step into the room. Cheri didn't really know how to react seeing the woman there because, somehow, she knew that Betty had not just come to wish her the best on her marriage, and to give her a friendly parting kiss. That just wasn't Betty's style to do things that way. Betty, without a doubt, had something else up her sleeve and, frankly, Cheri was not too certain that she wanted to find out what it was.
But Cheri just had to smile. It was Betty, all right, with that wild mischievous smile of hers, and that challenging stance that she knew so well, standing there in the doorway, looking totally out of place in the dress she had worn to the wedding. This was possibly the first time that Cheri had ever seen Betty in a dress in all the time she had known her! No, Betty hadn't changed, she thought, but Cheri had.
Cheri turned and said, "Betty ... It's so fucking good to see you! I'm glad you're here, I'm glad you're here to see your fuckup friend off...." Cheri tried to sound as devil-may-care as Betty looked, but somehow her voice betrayed her concern.
"C'mon, Cheri ... You're no bigger of a fuckup than I am, but you've got the happy ending to fall back on! I'm the one who blew it by never telling you that I was fucking crazy in love with you...."
Cheri paused. It was a little difficult to face because, after all, she had loved Betty, too. She started to add "in another way" but then, like one other time when she had wondered about her motives, she questioned whether it had been in another way. Maybe she had loved Betty in exactly the same way that Betty had loved her, in exactly the same way that Veronica had loved her, too. Every time Cheri thought about it she got confused: was she a lesbian? Wasn't she? It finally had gotten to the point where she didn't even care any longer.
She did know one thing; that she had something else entirely planned.
"Anyway," Betty said, "I didn't come here to try and fuck up your plans, make you cry and make you ruin your beautiful fucking makeup job, or anything...."
Cheri had to laugh out loud to keep from crying. "But I was just remembering those times we had, and I was thinking about what the house would be like without you stinking it up with your paints, and you bitching about all of the teddy bears laying around and all that, and I decided...."
Cheri waited. "You decided?"
"Well," Betty said, "I decided to come here before you tied the knot, and maybe have one last time with you, maybe to make one last play. I thought that there could be something special...."
To Cheri there was only one little problem. It sounded too good, it sounded too fucking good. She thought that she would be unable to summon up the words to tell Betty that she couldn't, but she blurted out:
"Betty, I can't, I...."
But it was too late. Betty was next to her now and holding her close, holding her tightly, and her hands were all over the other woman's ass, mauling her ass-cheeks right through the billowing fabric of the wedding gown. Cheri was still trying weakly to protest, but now the protesting was not coming easy because she wasn't sure that this wasn't what she wanted, too. If only because Betty deserved it, if only because she loved Betty so fucking much!
Betty brought her mouth to Cheri's neck and pulled her close, grinding her crotch into the other woman's. Then Cheri just let everything in the world go. She pushed back her veil and put her mouth to Betty's, letting her tongue slide between the other woman's open lips and taste that delicious mouth, to let her hands grab Betty, too. Betty ground her crotch against Cheri and she could feel the mound of Betty's warm pubis right through the folds of the wedding gown. Reaching down and, gasping as Betty licked her mouth and neck, she put her hand on Betty's crotch and kneaded it hard through the dress, running her fingers over the other woman's pussy, squeezing it, feeling distinctly that hot hairy bulge as it pressed against her right through the fabric.
"Betty," she husked out, "fuck me ... Fuck me the way you fucked me before ... Fuck me one last time ... Fuck me like we never have before ... Fuck me the best...."
Betty pulled the bodice of Cheri's wedding dress down and once again feasted her eyes on those huge tits that she loved. Her hands molded and raked them as she kissed, licked, worshipped the big, blush-pink nipples, their spikes jabbing outward and quivering stiffly in the air as Betty molded her friends boobs in her hands. Cheri's crotch was pounding involuntarily against her friend's pussy and now she was begging:
"Fuck me, Betty; please, fuck me...."
Betty was angling around her and Cheri's hands went out to the dressing table to support herself.
"The door...." she said, anxiously, "if anyone comes through the door...."
Betty smirked. "I locked it, roomie...." and then she lifted up the back of Cheri's dress, exposing the other woman's silken clad ass-cheeks, her hose and white garter clad legs, tossing the silken train to one side. Cheri felt Betty's fingers working over her already-hot ass-cheeks, peeling down her panties to give her a much better eyeshot of the woman's naked ass, better access to her ass and cunt that she was so desperately hungry for.
"There's sure a lot of this dress to contend with," Betty said, laughing, and then she knelt down below and Cheri felt her swipe her hot tongue up and down the already humid split of her ass, over and over. Cheri gasped and rose on her toes as her friend angled that tongue of hers lower to probe into into her ass, into her pussy, eating, chewing, sucking, gasping out her own pleasure as her friend ground her anus into her face, her nose. Cheri leaned farther over and Betty buried her face into the other woman's ass, gasping, grinding her teeth and lips into Cheri's pink puckered anus, into the beginning of her pussy slash.
Cheri wriggled with the glorious sensations, her ass and thighs minutely palpitating with pleasure. She could feel her pleasure rising, building....
"Yeah, baby," she begged, "shove it in ... Shove that tongue of yours into me, shove it deep, shove it hard,. . Eat my ass out...." Betty nuzzled her nose, her face into Cheri's ass, and she did let her tongue slide in, burrow deeply into the tightness and the fragrant musk of the tight pink little hole. She toyed, twiddled at the pucker of her ass-hole with her snaking tongue, then she lifted her fingers and let them slide into the other girl's cunt, wedging them deep, burrowing them in, sliding them in and out of the wet, fragrant channel, frictioning them up and down and letting the digit of her thumb dawdle Cheri's clit until the other woman was ready to scream. Cheri's ass was wobbling and jerking involuntarily and her cunt felt hotter than it had ever felt in her life. Cheri grabbed her own tits, satisfying herself, running her fingers over one naked, exposed boob, twisting, distorting the nipples in her fingertips, and began to buck her hips as Betty ate out her ass and slid her long, talented fingers into her pussy crack, jerking it in and out, driving it hard up her slot. Wow! She felt like her pussy was red hot, steaming, each stroke of the other woman's driving fingers, of her tongue burning the inside of her pussy up and practically driving her crazy!
"I just had to prove it to you one more time...." Betty moaned, ramming her fingers into Cheri's cunthole, pulling her mouth away from Cheri's ass-hole only long enough to get the words out.
"Prove ... Prove what?" Cheri gasped, turning , around to gaze down on the woman kneeling behind her. "Babe, you had nothing to prove...."
"I just had to prove that I loved you...." Betty gasped, almost whimpering, and then reburied her face, her fingers going into overdrive into the other woman's pussy. Harder, harder, each of the strokes of her fingers were whacking and slapping into Cheri's wet pussylips, and the end of those fingers were kissing the far wall of her twat! At the same time Betty was burrowing her tongue up Cheri's ass, loving every second of it! Ramming her fingers into Cheri, she was picking up speed, arching and flailing her fingers high up inside of Cheri's cunt, tickling the walls with her waggling fingers, each stroke of her hand practically taking Cheri off of her feet, making her jerk and wobble as she held onto the edge of the dressing table to keep from falling over. Those fingers up inside Cheri were going wild, and with every motion they seemed to transmit electric shocks right through Cheri's body, her brain, until she was gasping, crying, going out of her mind with pleasure.
Cheri was gasping and yelping with each stroke, and suddenly she was possessed with a coolness, a thoughtfulness that made her wish that those strokes could have gone on forever. With Betty she knew they would ... Almost! The moment seemed poised, timeless. All she could hear was her own heart thumping and Betty's gasping breaths as she continued to ream out her ass-hole with her tongue and to friction Cheri's pussy out with her fingers, like she was giving her one hard, final, loving cunt' polishing that was going to have to last her for a very long time. She felt her twat and anus and her ass-cheeks clenching, grasping, and then she could feel the waves of delicious fire starting to pour up through her crotch in clutching fingers, like she had suddenly dipped her ass into a bucket of scalding water. And then Betty hung onto Cheri's hot, trembling legs for dear life and took her that last, long mile, panting, her tongue going smooth and wet and hard and fast like a pile driver working up, squirming up into Cheri's ass-hole, and her fingers jamming, driving, pounding into her cunt until she just couldn't take it any longer. She writhed on the end of Betty's driving fingers, on End of Betty's driving tongue and then she gasped back a scream behind her teeth as she sizzled with orgasm after orgasm going in shockwaves through her body, straight to her brain. Cheri yelped and begged for more as her orgasm burnt through her cunt, through her tits, through her brain, and Betty just kept ramming those fingers and tongue hard into home until long after her friend had cum and cum again. Somehow she just could not bring herself to pull those fingers, that tongue free from Cheri for the last time.
* * *
When Cheri walked down the aisle of the church later that afternoon, no one knew the meaning of that blissful little smile that was on her face. No one except Betty.
