Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 The following is probably a work of FICTION.  It was sent back in time in a
quantum bottle.  So who really knows for sure? ...

   Feel free to reprint or take credit for it (as if I could stop you), but
please don't make any changes, or I won't write the next chapter!

   If you haven't already, you really should read the first four chapters
first.  It reads much better with a build-up ... 
/~TooMuchTime/

   SAMMY'S HOT SUMMER Chapter 5: Strike a Pose (m F F cons busty 1st)

   by TooMuchTime (TooMuchTime2002@hotmail.com)

   Copyright(c) 2002, 2003, TooMuchTime.  All rights reserved.

   When I arrived at the front door at noon the next day, Thursday, there
was no answer.  So I went around the side of the house, back to the pool,
thinking that was where I'd find the lovely "Busty Bethany", a web model
who'd moved in next door to me less than a week ago, and who'd already
managed turned my 13 year old world upside-down.  Her car was parked in
front of the house, so I assumed she must be home.  After all, she was the
one who'd specifically told me to show up at noon.  Yet as I opened the
tall side gate and stepped into the pool area ...  I saw nothing but the
pool.

   Okay.  So maybe she was inside, but going to the bathroom or something,
and therefore couldn't make it to the front door.  I chuckled to myself at
the thought of this, and it took a moment to realize why.  It was because,
up until that moment, it had never occurred to me that a woman like Bethany
-- who was in my eyes a tall, redheaded, long-legged, extremely busty
goddess -- actually did things like go to the bathroom.  Or eat.  Or even
get sick.  Somehow, despite the handful of intimate moments we'd shared
over the past few days, I still managed to think of her as something,
somebody, who was larger than life.

   Shaking my head at my own naive sensibilities, I made my way through the
sliding screen door (which wasn't locked) and into the house.  "Bethany? 
You home?" I yelled the words, but not all that loudly.  Truth to tell, I
wasn't really the loud yelling type.  Instead, I cautiously proceeded
further into the house, my eyes peeled.  I figured that once I saw her, I
could give her enough warning about my presence to keep from scaring the
shit out of her.

   Bethany wasn't in the living room, the kitchen, the dining room, the
den, or even the laundry room.  Which put her nowhere on the first floor.
So I started up the stairs.  "Bethany?" Still no reply.  When I reached the
top of the steps, I heard the sound of running water, and quickly realized
why she hadn't been able to hear me.  She was taking a shower -- just as
she had been yesterday afternoon, when I left her house.

   I smiled to myself.  Clearly, if she was taking a shower at the same
time she'd told me to be here, then it meant that this was probably the
surprise she'd had in mind.  Instead of just drying her off, this time she
wanted me to join her ...  and then maybe she'd dry me off afterward.  I
certainly couldn't complain about that.

   Feeling bold, I went into stealth mode, and walked quietly into the
bathroom.  Before I joined her, though, I thought I'd give her a little
scare first, Psycho-style ...  without the knife, of course.  I'd once
overheard my father telling my mother what a huge crush he had on Janet
Leigh after he saw that movie.  And there was something in the way he said
it -- a kind of male code that women perhaps wouldn't understand -- which
indicated to me that what he was REALLY saying was, "I used to masturbate
while fantasizing about her." So the next day, I'd watched the DVD version
of the movie, and sure enough, I saw I was right.  On the one hand, it
seemed kind of tame compare to today's standards, but still ...  that Janet
Leigh was a hottie, complete with big boobs.  I masturbated that night
fantasizing about her, wishing I could have been a fly on the wall while
they were filming the shower scene.

   So here I was now, all ready to play the part of Norman Bates.  I padded
quietly through the bedroom, across the carpeted floor to the master
bathroom.  The door was closed, but not all the way.  I pushed it open,
ever so slowly, unsure about whether or not it would squeak as I did so. 
It didn't.  As I slipped into the bathroom, I could hear Bethany humming
something, but couldn't quite make out the tune.  I stepped up to the end
of the curtain where I knew the showerhead to be, and extended my hand, my
heart thumping in my chest.  After a deep breath, I grabbed the curtain and
pushed it aside roughly, while imitating a high-pitched violin noise, "Ee
ee ee ee ee ee ..."

   And then Bethany screamed, at the top of her lungs.  Or rather, the
woman in the shower who looked nothing like Bethany screamed at the top of
HER lungs.  As she turned to face me, screaming, my own mouth dropped open
in shock and instant regret for what I'd just done.  This woman was still
taller than me, but at least a few inches shorter than Bethany.  She had
shoulder-length dark brown hair -- pressed flat against her head from being
wet, of course -- big brown eyes, an almost babyish (and quite beautiful)
face with full adult lips, and a decent all-over tan.

   There was also something slightly exotic about her good looks, as if she
were French or Italian or something.  As for her body, it was incredible.
Very slim, curving out only slightly at the hips and a great bit more at
her chest, which had probably been enhanced at some point -- they looked
that perfect.  Her tits were the size of well-proportioned canteloupes,
with brownish nipples the size of perfect silver dollars, and her pussy,
while shaved, still had a landing strip of fur.

   All of this my quick and opportunistic young eyes managed to grab in the
two seconds or so it took for the woman, a stranger, to grab a bottle of
shampoo and throw it at my forehead with unerring accuracy.  More stunned
than hurt, I immediately fell backward as it bounced away.  I lost my
footing, hit the door, it slammed shut, and I slid against it to the floor,
landing on my ass.  And through it all, I continued to stare at the naked
woman in front of me, who by this point had taken a good look at me, and
apparently realized I was no threat.  Because she stopped screaming.  She
still looked a bit suspicious, though, as she threw an arm across her chest
and glared down at me.  I couldn't be sure, but I thought she looked
passingly familiar.

   "Who the hell are you?" she said, with a strong European accent, her
voice on the high side.

   But the words failed me.  "I -- I --"

   Suddenly, her expression softened a bit.  "Wait.  Are you Sammy?" It
sounded more like "Semmy" when she said it, though.  When I nodded in the
affirmative, the woman brought her face to her hands.  "Oh my.  I am so
sorry.  Bethany said you were going to be here soon.  I wasn't thinking."
What was that accent?  The more she spoke, the less it sounded like Italian
or French, and more like ...  Russian, maybe?

   "It's okay," I said, getting to my feet.  "It's my fault.  I shouldn't
have scared you."

   Her full, pouty lips drew up into a smile, and her eyes brightened
considerably.  "I'm thinking you did not think it was me, but that it would
maybe be Bethany instead?"

   "Yes," I replied, smiling back.  "Exactly."

   Shifting to a stern expression, she crossed her arms, which had the
effect of pushing her breasts up and together.  "And you thought that this
would be a funny idea?  To scare somebody in the shower?"

   I shrugged, then reached up to see if the shampoo bottle had left a lump
on my forehead.  "Well.  I guess in hindsight, it was a bad idea.  But it
seemed like a good one at the time."

   The woman pursed her lips, snicked with her mouth and shook her head
slowly, as if to say, "Tsk tsk.  Little boys sometimes have such strange
little boy thoughts.  I will never understand it."

   I blushed at having been called a "little boy", but realized that I'd
perhaps earned it on this particularly day.  "Well, I'm sorry for ... 
everything.  Really.  I'll just go now.  Before I do something else
stupid."

   "Yes," she said, smiling kindly.  "Maybe that would be the best thing
right now."

   So without further ado, I opened the door and backed my way out of the
room, leaving her to her shower.  After the door was shut again, it
occurred to me that perhaps I should have asked her if she knew where
Bethany was.  Yet before I had a chance to talk myself into poking my head
back in again, I heard somebody climbing the stairs.  I crossed the bedroom
quickly, and met Bethany as she was just reaching the top step, holding a
laundry basket in both arms.

   She beamed when she saw me.  "Well, hello!  I didn't hear you come in."

   I was about to ask where she'd been, but the laundry basket answered the
question for me.  Of course.  She'd been doing the wash, down in the
basement, where the washer and dryer were.  And the presence of a set of
walkman headphones around her neck explained why she hadn't been able to
hear me.  Mystery solved.

   "Yeah," I said.  "I, um, thought maybe you were in the shower."

   Bethany shook her head.  "Nope.  Downstairs."

   "Yeah, but I kind of surprised the person who actually IS in the
shower."

   Her eyes went wide, then she laughed.  "Veronica?  You mean you walked
in on her?"

   "Something like that."

   Still chuckling over this, Bethany nudged past me into the bedroom, and
put the basket on the bed.  Without it in my way now, I could see that she
was wearing a pink t-shirt and a pair of denim shorts.  Nothing glamorous,
but it still fit her frame well all the same.  "It's my own fault, I
guess," she said.  "I should have told you Veronica was going to be here.
She's a friend of mine.  Another web model.  I met her a couple years
back."

   "She has an accent," I replied, stating the obvious.

   "That she does.  She's originally from Eastern Europe, by way of
Austria. She's beautiful, isn't she?"

   I nodded enthusiastically.  "And she has a good arm too."

   Bethany looked confused, yet before she could ask what I meant,
something else apparently occurred to her.  "Before she gets out here, I
have to tell you --"

   But it was already too late.  The bathroom door swung open, and there
was Veronica in the doorway, wet and unabashedly naked.  "There you are,"
she said, to both of us.  "I was wondering could one of you get me a
towel?" As she asked this question, she reached up and ran her fingers
through her hair, as if to fluff it.  Her tits jiggled, and I was of course
mesmerized, my dick growing instantly hard in my shorts.

   "Here you go," Bethany said, and grabbed a towel from the laundry
basket, which she then tossed in Veronica's direction.  "Fresh out of the
dryer."

   Either the brunette hadn't been expecting this, or Bethany had thrown it
too short.  In either case, the other model failed to catch the towel when
it came at her, and had to bend over and pick it up when it fell to the
floor.  It was quite a wonderful sight, all in all.  "Thank you," she said,
and turned to me, adding, "Your mother is so good to me, I don't even know
what to do sometimes." Then she retreated into the bathroom and shut the
door behind her.

   When I turned to face Bethany again, she was smiling at me knowingly.

   "My mother?" I asked, whispering.

   She took me gently by the arm, and led me out of the room to the office.
"Yes," she said, playfully.  "And as your mother, I'm quite appalled by the
way you were staring at that poor girl's tits.  Why, it's as if you don't
see her as anything more than a piece of meat, put on earth for you to gawk
at."

   "Well ...  she was naked," I replied, matter of factly.

   "Yes, and she was playing them up, wasn't she?  That tramp." Bethany
smiled to show that she was, of course, just kidding.  "Sorry for not
warning you about the mother thing.  It's just that ...  while I think I
know Veronica pretty well, I don't know if she'd quite ...  approve of ...
you, me, us."

   "I understand," I said, trying not to seem disappointed.

   "Just so you know, I'm your estranged mother.  Until recently, your
father had custody.  But he got remarried and you decided to come live with
me.  That's why I never mentioned you to her before."

   I chuckled.  "That's quite a story."

   She shrugged.  "What can I say?  I have an active imagination." Then she
pulled me in front of her, and drew me in tight.  "I know this kind of
changes things a bit for the day.  But if you can just be a good little boy
while Veronica's around, then later on maybe I'll give you a special
treat." With this, she reached down and stroked my obvious boner through
the material of my shorts.  "How does that sound to you?"

   "Um.  Good.  It sounds good to me."

   "Good," she repeated, and smiled, taking a step back.

   "So ...  what's going on today?" I asked, my head reeling.

   "Oh, that's right, I didn't tell you yet." She turned to the closet
behind her and slid the door open.  Inside was a large black case that
almost looked like a piece of luggage.  She pulled it out and dropped it in
the middle of the floor, then unzipped it down the middle.  Inside was a
video camera.  "Ever use one of these?"

   "Sort of," I replied.  "Nothing that nice, though."

   "Well, I'm counting on you being a quick learner," Bethany said.

   Then it sunk in on me.  "What?  You mean for you and --"

   "For me and Veronica, yes.  With the move and everything, I'm overdue to
post a new video clip on my site.  And the members have been clamoring for
more clips of me with other girls."

   "So you want me to ...  videotape you?  Both of you?"

   "Pretty much.  Are you up for it?"

   Was I up for it?  WAS I UP FOR IT?  Eventually, after some stammering, I
said yes.



   * * *



   A short while later, I was down in the living room, adjusting the camera
on the tripod, and testing out all its various settings.  If there was one
thing I was good at, it was figuring out technological crap quickly. 
Bethany had been right about that much.  Meanwhile, the women were still
upstairs, presumably getting themselves all dolled up for what I'd begun
referring to in my mind as "The Shoot".  I tried not to concentrate too
much on the reality of what I'd be seeing right before my eyes soon, and
focused instead on the details of the equipment.  Do this to move the
camera around, do this to zoom in and out, do this to focus.

   Before she'd disappeared upstairs, I'd asked Bethany about lighting, but
she seemed confident that the ambient lighting from outside, combined with
the overhead lights, should do the trick well enough.  Since she'd
certainly been at this longer than I had, I was inclined to trust her
judgment.  Still, I did a few quick tests, recording objects in the room
and playing back the results, and from what I could tell, she seemed to be
right.  Finally, at just about the point when I didn't think I could
possibly stretch out the task of getting the camera ready for even another
second, I heard the sound of heels coming down the steps.  Showtime!

   I turned toward the stairs and waited, my heart pounding.  The first to
appear was Bethany.  She wore what looked to be, for all intents and
purposes, a business outfit -- a respectable white jacket (that seemed to
bulge a bit at the seams) over an equally respectable white skirt, which
extended a few inches short of her knees.  Below this were white stockings
and a pair of white business heels.  Her fingernails and lips were done up
in her usual favorite, bright red, while to complete the look of
professionalism, she'd put on a pair of glasses and pinned her hair up in a
way that brought it off of her neck, yet still maintained a level of
playfulness.

   By contrast, Veronica's outfit was quite unprofessional, and much
darker. She wore a black leather jacket over a pair of tight, form-fitting
leather pants, capped off by a pair of tall black pumps.  A loose black
belt with wide holes fell around her waist -- clearly only a decorative
accessory -- and extended below the bottom of the jacket.  Her hair had
been curled, her eyes and lashes were noticeably darker then they'd been
previously, her cheeks were rouged, her fingernails were long and clear,
and her lips were painted a glittery pink.  The overall look was that of a
pool-playing, beer-drinking biker chick, ready for action.

   Once the two women had descended the stairs, they paused to stand beside
each other and put on their best straight-faced "look at me" poses,
bringing the contrast between them into even starker focus.  When they both
started smiling at me in a strange way, it occurred to me that I must have
a fairly stupid look on my face.  Sure enough, my mouth was slightly open
-- so I shut it, then tried to collect myself.  "Um.  Wow.  You two look
... nice."

   "Thank you," Veronica said.

   "Yes," Bethany added, walking up to me to plant a motherly kiss on my
cheek.  "Thank you, darling."

   "So ...  where should I be?" asked Veronica.

   "Over there," Bethany said.  "I thought we'd start off in front of the
fireplace, then work our way over to the couch later." She turned to me. 
"Don't you think so, Sammy?"

   "I -- um -- sure.  That sounds about right."

   Veronica crossed the room to the fireplace.  "Have you done this for
your mother before?" she asked.

   "Done ...  what?" I replied.

   Bethany answered for me, though.  "Well, he's never shot me with another
woman before.  But he did shoot a couple of the videos on my site.  The
leopard-skin bikini.  The cheerleading outfit."

   Veronica grinned.  "The cheerleader outfit?  I did not see that one."
Neither had I.

   "Yes, well," Bethany responded.  "I figured if anybody should know
whether or not a cheerleading outfit looks right, and how I should pose in
it, it would a be a teenage boy.  Don't you think?"

   The brunette nodded.  "This is true.  And how old are you, Sammy?"

   "Um." I looked to Bethany, unsure of whether I should give my true age.
She nodded.  "Thirteen."

   "Oh, that old?  I would have guessed younger for you.  No offense to
you."

   "It's okay," I said.  "I hear that a lot."

   "I guess you are old enough then ...  for this?" She indicated the room
with a sweep of her hand, and seemed to be directing the question more at
Bethany than at me.

   Bethany joined her in front of the fireplace.  "I think so.  As I see
it, if he's old enough to appreciate the beauty of women, then he's old
enough to see them naked.  I've never really believed in the idea that
young boys should be taught that there's something wrong with nudity.  It
just ends up making them guilty about it later on."

   Veronica nodded.  "This makes sense.  In Europe, it is not so big a
deal. There they have the nude beaches.  The prostitutes.  And the boys are
losing their virginities at a much younger age."

   I couldn't believe I was hearing this conversation.  "Exactly," Bethany
said.  "It's only here in the States that we seem to be so uptight about
everything.  Here, we feed young boys things like Baywatch, and comic books
with girls whose tits are busting out all over the place and get their
hormones in a rage.  But then we tell them it's wrong to see nudity, that
they shouldn't have sex with girls their own age, because they might get
them pregnant, and that they can't have sex with older women either,
because that's somehow wrong."

   "It is very confusing," Veronica said.

   Bethany laughed.  "Well, enough lecturing from me.  Sammy, are you ready
to start?"

   "Yes.  Sure." I scrambled to get behind the camera, then lined it up. 
"Are you two ready?"

   The two women stood back-to-back, Bethany in a severe pose, arms
crossed, and Veronica with her lips pursed, arms at her sides, looking more
broody than anything else.  "Ready," Bethany replied.

   I fired up the camera, and the women went into action.  They began at
first by simply moving around a bit -- switching the position of their
legs, turning toward the camera, toward each other, leaning against the
fireplace, that sort of thing, staying "in character" the whole time.  For
a moment, it occurred to me what a silly scenario it was.  I mean, a biker
chick and a businesswoman hanging out in front of a fireplace?  Yet for
some reason, I doubted that Bethany's fans would be this critical.  After
all, they didn't come to her site for the plot lines.

   Next, the model's jackets came open.  For Bethany, this meant she
revealed a silky white blouse, beneath which I could see the clear lines of
a lacy white bra.  For Veronica, however, all I could do was think WOW. 
Because beneath her leather jacket was a gold tanktop made out of a very
fine, very sheer mesh material ...  and nothing else.  It clung to the
contour of her impressive breasts, and left nothing at all to the
imagination.  She may as well have been wearing a slightly tinted layer of
clear plastic wrap.  And yet it was somehow even more appealing to me than
seeing her naked in the shower had been.  Perhaps there was something about
the pretense of hiding her tits, when in fact they weren't really being
hidden at all.  I couldn't explain it then and I can't explain it now --
all I know is that I popped an immediate boner at the sight.

   It didn't take much longer for both jackets to end up on the floor,
exposing Veronica's tanned arms and showing off more than ever her
thin-yet-busty torso.  She turned to Bethany, and slowly, deliberately
began to undo the buttons of her silky blouse, both of them taking time now
and then to turn and smile at the camera.  From my perspective, of course,
this meant that they were turning and smiling at me -- so you can imagine
my satisfaction.  Trying to remember that I had a job to do, I made a point
of zooming the camera in on Veronica's nimble hands, as Bethany's shirt
slowly opened from the top down.  Then, when it finally was open, and as
Bethany faced me (the camera), I pulled the zoom back a bit.

   Her huge breasts looked exquisite in the lacy white bra with its low
swoop across the front.  The tops of her nipples peeked ever so slightly
out of the edges, and the material across them, which was more sheer than
what held up the bottoms, revealed the rest of their shape below the
surface.  Again, I found myself amazed at how much more sexy this could be
even than seeing her fully naked, which I had now on several occasions. 
And yet, I wanted to see her naked too.  It was all very confusing for my
raging hormones.  All I knew was that, if necessary, I probably could have
pounded nails with my erection -- it was that hard.

   There was more posing, during which Veronica's tits wobbled
tantalizingly inside the sheer mesh top.  At one point, while staring
directly at me (the camera), she reached up with both hands and pushed her
hair back off her neck, bringing her chest into full view.  She swirled her
hair around a bit, then brought one hand down again, teasingly, over her
face, along her neck, and down to her chest, where it proceeded to rub and
cup first one tit, then the other.  Then it continued down, over her flat
belly, and down into her pants.  I thought I might die on the spot.

   Bethany just watched on in amusement, writhing and dancing in place to
some tune that played in her head.

   Now, it seemed, had come the time for the models to take their bottoms
off.  Veronica started by first removing the large decorative belt and
letting it drop with a clunk to the floor.  She cupped her tits again, and
slid her hands down to pull the bottom of the thin shirt up, so that it
covered her tits and revealed her tummy.  Then she hooked her thumbs into
the top of the leather pants and slowly, while wriggling like the sexiest
snake I never saw, eased the pants down ...  down ...  down ...  all the
while smiling at me (the camera), bending forward, running her tongue
across her top lip.  Before I knew it, the pants were down to her knees,
and she was standing up straight again.  If she'd been wearing any kind of
panties before, they'd gone down with the pants, because now her
mostly-shaved pussy was plain to see.

   Veronica turned her back to Bethany, as if to show off her tight ass,
which Bethany seemed all too happy to take a light whack at.  I could
barely hear the sound of it, but the image certainly excited me.  Then, as
Bethany turned, Veronica reached down and unzipped the white skirt, which
quickly fell with a flutter down Bethany's legs and over her business heels
to the floor, where she promptly stepped out of it.  Unlike Veronica, she
did have a pair of panties on -- not quite a thong, but not far off --
which matched both her bra and the pair of thigh-high stockings she wore.

   The game was clearly on now, as the models turned to face each other,
smiling ...  and began to let their hands roam.  Veronica gently put hers
on Bethany's tummy, then slid them up, over her bra-encased chest, up to
her shoulders, and pushed the light blouse up and off.  Bethany followed
suit, and slid the brunette's mesh top off over her head, then took some
time to teasingly fondle and cup Veronica's now-exposed breasts, while
Veronica did the same with hers.

   Upping the ante, Veronica stepped in close, then reached behind Bethany
and grabbed her ass, pulling the redhead toward her.  Their chests
flattened together, they almost lost their balance, and both began to
laugh. Veronica then took this opportunity to reach up and unclasp
Bethany's bra from behind.  It fell to the floor, and this left both women
topless in front of me, their huge tits wobbling and bobbling and pressing
against each other.  There was far more boobage going on than I had eyes to
look at, and I made an internal note to myself to remember to make a copy
of the tape I was filming right now, so that I could masturbate over it a
thousand times.

   Not to be outdone, Bethany brought her head down, her face to Veronica's
chest, and lovingly, sensuously kissed first the one tit, then the other,
while her hands slid purposefully down the other model's body.  Down she
went, kissing the brunette's tummy as her hands moved over the hips, then
pausing with her face in front of Veronica's pussy as she unzipped the
bottoms of both legs of the leather pants, then pulled the pants down and
off entirely.  Then her hands rose up again, over the backs of the
Veronica's thighs, up to her ass, and dug in with red nails, as she buried
her face in the brunette's crotch and began to bob her head.  Veronica put
a steadying hand on the fireplace, and seemed to brace herself with it,
while the other settled on Bethany's head.  The brunette then threw her
head back in a kind of mock ectasy.  Clearly, they were faking the act --
but it was still powerful to see.

   Veronica then reached down and put both hands on Bethany's shoulders,
urging her back up again.  Bethany rose, and the brunette put her arms
around her in a loving fashion, the two brought their faces together, and
they began to kiss -- shallowly, tenderly, their eyes filled with a kind of
mock lust -- turning to the camera (me) for affirmation that they were, in
fact, putting on a good show.  Then, without warning, they gave each other
one last brief kiss, smiled, turned to the camera again, blew some kisses
at it, and started waving goodbye.

   A few seconds later, Bethany said, "That's a wrap!"

   To say I was disappointed is an understatement.  "What?  That's it?"

   The two models looked at each other and chuckled.  "Of course," Bethany
said.  "That's long enough for a couple of clips.  "Well do another one on
the couch in a little while, and continue from there."

   "But --" I started, then cut myself off.  The bottom line was that I'd
been enjoying the show, and hadn't wanted it to end.  That wasn't the point
of the shoot, though, and I had to remember that.

   "But what?" Veronica asked, walking toward me.  "It seems to me like
maybe you need a break anyway." With a smirk, she pointed down to the
too-obvious erection tenting my shorts.

   "That's my boy," Bethany said, gathering up her clothes.

   "I'm sorry," I said.

   "Oh, please," Bethany responded.  "I'm sure by now that Veronica knows
what effect she has on teenage boys."

   Veronica grinned and shrugged, the motion bobbling her tits.  "It is
true."

   Bethany stepped up to me then, and quite matter of factly asked, "Do you
need to take care of it?"

   "Of wh-what?" Why was she asking me this in front of Veronica?

   She pointed down.  "That.  Do you need to ...  you know.  Take care of
it?"

   "I -- I --" Amazingly, despite all Bethany and I had done, I was
speechless.

   "You have embarassed him in front of me," Veronica said, then turned to
me.  "It is okay, Sammy.  I know what boys do.  Your mother is right.  If
you need to take care of it, you should do that."

   "Before we go any further anyway," Bethany added.  "If you need to."

   "I am very sure he does," Veronica said, smiling as if it were a joke.

   Bethany smiled.  "Perhaps Veronica will help you," she said.

   "B--" I started to blurt out her name, then remembered my role.  "Mom!"

   Veronica seemed to blush herself.  "I do not know about that."

   "Oh, come now, Veronica, you can't tell me the thought isn't crossing
your mind," Bethany teased.  "I mean, obviously I can't help him with it --
I'm his mother, after all."

   "Mom, really," I said.  "I can just go ...  do it myself.  I'm fine."

   Veronica's face grew momentarily serious, as if she were thinking, then
asked, "What would I do?"

   I couldn't believe my ears.  But Bethany seemed less surprised.

   "You know," she said.  "Just ...  lend a hand.  Nothing terrible."

   "Just ...  a hand?" Veronica asked, mulling the idea over, clearly
intrigued.

   "Just a hand," Bethany repeated.  "After all, I think you'd be the
first."

   Veronica turned to me, her eyes suddenly bright.  "Is this true?  I
would be the first?"

   Bethany stared at me intently.  I knew my role.  "Um.  Yes," I said. 
"I've never ...  I mean, the only person who ever touched it ...  is me. 
So yeah, I guess you'd be the first."

   "So what do you say?" Bethany asked.  "Want to help my boy some new
ground?"

   The brunette shrugged, smiling.  "Sure.  Why not?  What can it hurt,
right?"

   "Exactly," Bethany replied, placing a hand on both our backs and leading
us out of the room.  "Now why don't you two go to the den and ...  take
care of things, while I get the camera set up for the next shot."



   * * *



   A few minutes later, Veronica and I were in the den.  I felt as awkward
as I ever had in my entire life, and Veronica didn't seem so comfortable
herself.  I pulled the door shut behind us, and together, we ambled around
some unpacked boxes to a couch on one side of the room.  The blinds on the
windows were already closed, but if they hadn't been, I would have quickly
closed them.  There just seemed to be that level of covertness in the air.

   "So," I said, as we sat.  But I had nothing to follow it up with.

   "So," she repeated, her mouth pouty.  I started to look over at her
mostly-naked body -- she had nothing but the black pumps on now -- but for
some reason, I felt self-conscious as I did, and quickly looked away again.
"It is okay," she said to me.  "To look if you want to.  You have already
seen me."

   "True," I replied, and did as I was told.  Her breasts, her thin body,
her gorgeous European face -- it was all so amazing.  I wanted so badly to
just reach out and touch her, but didn't dare.

   "How do we start?" she asked.

   How indeed?  "Um.  Well.  Can I kiss you first?"

   Veronica smiled.  "That is sweet.  Most men would be pulling their dicks
out first and waving them around.  But you want to kiss first.  I like
that. Yes, you can kiss me if you want."

   I leaned in, she met me halfway, and we kissed, lightly, tenderly. 
"Again?" I asked.

   But Veronica didn't bother to answer this time.  She just smiled, put a
hand on my face, and pulled me in for another kiss, this one a bit bolder
than the first -- with tongue -- and much longer.  Then she reached down
with her free hand, found one of mine, and placed it on her breast. 
Pulling back a moment, she said, "I thought you might ask."

   "I wanted to.  Thanks." Smiling, I began to gently massage her tit,
pulling in for yet another kiss.

   "What else do you want?" Veronica asked, whispering the question in my
ear.  But she didn't wait for an answer.  Instead, she reached down and
placed her hand on the bulge in my shorts.  "Do you want to show it to me?"

   "Um.  Yes.  Sure.  Should I --"

   "No," she said, pulling back, grinning.  "I will." With this, she found
the button on my shorts and snapped it open, then opened the zipper as
well. Immediately, my boner popped out.  "Oh look," she said, as if amused.
"No underwear.  That makes things very easy." As I lifted my ass up a few
inches, she used both hands to tug the shorts down to my knees, then sat
back again, and took in the scene.  "I must say, Sammy.  You have a very
big cock." With her accent, the way that last word came out sounding --
kind of like "cuck" -- made it seem all the more dirty.

   "No I don't," I said, quite aware that I was actually a bit small.  "But
thanks."

   Veronica grabbed my chin, and forced me to look her in the eyes. 
"Sammy, I am telling you.  You have a very big, very nice cock.  Any girl
would be happy to see it.  And you never let anybody tell you anything
different, okay?"

   I blushed.  "Okay.  I won't."

   "Now," she said.  "I am going to show you how much I like that your cock
got hard for me."

   I didn't have either the heart or the inclination to let her know that
it had actually gotten hard for both her AND Bethany.  Or maybe she already
knew that, and didn't mind.  Regardless, I erred on the side of not being
stupid, and just kept my mouth shut about it. "O-okay," I replied.

   "But you will have to promise not to tell your mother what I do next,"
Veronica added.

   "Um.  Why?" I asked.  "She said it was okay."

   Veronica shook her head.  "She said the hand was okay.  Just the hand."

   "Well, what are you going to --"

   She put a finger over my mouth.  "Shhhhh.  Promise me," she whispered.

   "I promise," I said.  Let's face it -- I would have promised to jump off
a cliff at this point.

   Veronica smiled, and in a nimble move, she was suddenly in front of me,
straddling me, her knees planted on each side of my legs, her chest in my
face, and her pussy hovering just above my aroused cock.  She grabbed the
back of my head and pushed my face toward her breasts.  Knowing an
invitation when handed one, I began to hungrily kiss and lick and suck her
tits.  Meanwhile, with her free hand, she reached down between her legs and
started to finger herself.  "Yesss," she whispered, as my mouth grew more
eager.  "Like that.  Suck me like that."

   Several minutes of this passed, every second of which were frozen
moments of bliss for me, until gradually, Veronica's breathing got
increasingly more labored.  And just as it reached a fever pitch, her hand
left her pussy, found my cock, and led it, skillfully, into her warm, wet
pussy.  The act caught me so by surprise that I barely knew what to think.
I'd begun to believe that she was going to tease me up to a certain point,
then maybe give me a blowjob or something.  But this ...  the feel of her
tight pussy wrapped around me ...  it was insane.

   By the time Veronica started to ride me, up and down, her tits in my
face, both hands now gripping the back of my head, I thought my brain might
just explode.  She let out only the barest of squeaks, but I got the
impression she was restraining her volume level -- perhaps for the sake of
not letting my "mother" in the next room know what was really happening. 
Up and down, she went, her flexible legs in a full split now, taking in
every inch of me with each thrust, even as I thrusted upward to meet her.
It felt wonderful.  And rather quickly, I understood why she'd taken the
time to finger herself before letting me enter her.  There was simply no
way, as inexperienced as I was, that I could possibly keep myself from
cumming in less than thirty seconds.  No way in hell.

   The tell-tale euphoria filled my balls, and spread outward to my legs.
Faster and faster she went, until suddenly I was cumming ...  and cumming
...  the sheer pleasure and release of it flooding through my body.  And
even after I had no more to give, Veronica went right on fucking me,
clearly (from the expression on her face) getting something from the
experience herself.  As the waves of euphoria drained slowly from me, she
continued to fuck me faster still, until finally, she couldn't seem to take
it any more herself.  Wearing something like a grimace, she gradually
slowed, and slowed, and came to a stop, breathing heavily, her body
sheathed in sweat.  "That," she said, breathlessly, "is how much I like
your big cock, Sammy." Then she bent her neck down, and kissed me full on
the mouth.

   Still reeling from what had just happened, all I could muster was a
dazed, "Um.  Thanks."

   "It was my pleasure," she replied.  Almost grudgingly, Veronica climbed
down off of me.  Glancing at the door, she took a moment to scan the room,
and on the desk, saw some cleaning supplies, which included a roll of paper
towels.  She went and fetched the roll, tore some sheets off, handed them
to me, then tore some off for herself too.  We both cleaned up as well as
we could, which for Veronica also meant drying the sweat off her body --
presumably to make it look more like she had just jerked me off and less
like she'd just had sex with me.

   As I was zipping up, Veronica took my chin in hand again, and said, "We
are in agreement?  Nobody but you and me will ever know about this?  I
think maybe your mother would not understand."

   I nodded.  "I promise.  I won't ever tell anybody."

   She smiled, pleased with herself.  "Good then.  So ...  you now have
your first time.  How was it?"

   As if she couldn't tell from my huge grin.  "It was ...  amazing. 
Perfect."

   "You should know that it was my first time too," she added.

   My confusion must have shown on my face.  "Really?"

   "Yes.  It was my first time to be a boy's first time.  I have always
wanted to."

   "Ohhh." I chuckled.  "Well.  How was it?"

   Veronica tousled my hair, and smiled.  "It was amazing.  Perfect.  Now,
we had better get out there before your mother starts to wonder what is
going on.  Don't you think?"

   I nodded, and made our way back to the living room.



   * * *



   Bethany had a wide grin on her face when we appeared.  "So.  How did it
go?"

   Veronica spoke up first.  "Everything is ...  taken care of."

   I just smiled, and shrugged.

   "Good," Bethany said.  "I need my cameraman to be focused on his job."

   "If you will excuse me," Veronica said.  "I must go ...  tinkle." With
this, she exited the room, still wearing nothing but the black pumps, and
made her way up the stairs.

   Once she was gone, Bethany walked up to me and put an arm around my
shoulder.  She was still topless, wearing only the panties, stockings, and
heels.  "So tell me, son," she asked, smirking.  "Did she fuck you?"

   For what seemed the hundredth time that day, I was caught off-guard.  "I
--"

   Bethany smiled.  "She did, didn't she?  That tramp."

   I became noticeably flustered.  "I didn't say she did."

   "No, but your face speaks volumes." She leaned down and kissed me on the
mouth.  "It's okay, sweetie.  You didn't do anything wrong.  And neither
did she.  It was all part of my master plan."

   "It was?" Now I was really confused.

   "Yes indeed.  Veronica and I had a conversation just a couple of weeks
ago about how she'd never been anybody's first before.  I was pretty sure
if I gave her the right opportunity, she'd jump to it.  And she did."

   I chuckled to myself.  "Wow.  Thanks ...  I think."

   "Well.  I did promise you a special treat, didn't I?" she asked.

   I nodded.  "That was pretty special."

   "Just let it be a lesson to you," Bethany said.  "Never underestimate
me."

   I shook my head.  "I won't.  Trust me."

   A few minutes later, Veronica returned from tinkling, and the shoot went
on as before, this time on the couch.  With my virginity behind me, I found
it was much easier to concentrate on the task at hand.  Which isn't to say
that I didn't get another raging boner -- after all, how could I not, with
two hot models simulating a tame form of lesbianism just several feet away
from me?  But the urge to "take care of it" was certainly not as strong.

   I was beginning to come to the realization, slowly but surely, that as
long as I lived next door to Bethany, she would always find a way to make
sure that I was taken care of when I needed it, one way or another. 
Veronica was living proof of that!  And Veronica was amazing, don't get me
wrong.  Yet still, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't eagerly awaiting the day
that Bethany -- too -- would take my virginity.

   I just hoped I wouldn't have to wait much longer.




   (TO BE CONTINUED)