Keywords: M/F anal, oral Author: W R Jenkins Title: Star Shine Disclaimer:(standard) Do not screw up. Do not do anything illegal. This includes specifically (but not limited to) reading on if you are under 18- 21 in some localities If you are underage you must leave now. If you're young and curious, this is not the place to get the straight story. You act like this and people will look at you strange and give you a wide berth. Also, don't try this at home. Some of this stuff is just plain wrong, most of it is unsafe in the present viral climate and some of it doesn't work in this universe. They are stories. They deal with ideas, fantasies and thoughts that might not even be pleasant in real life. Thoughts are like that. Fantasies are there so we can toy with the sensations without feeling or inflicting the pain, despair or humiliation. End Sermon. Star Shine - (starshin.txt) - Do actresses fuck their way to stardom? Of course not. It's all talent and appeal and PR. But do wanna-be, never gonna-be actresses try to fuck their way to stardom? I'd take those odds. It's a stupid city full of airheads that have played pretend so long they don't know when reality is biting them in the ass, but it's got an overflow of poon. Here's to skimming some off the top- or is it the bottom? M/F, oral, anal Contrary to her claim, it wasn't the best pussy he'd ever had. It did, however, rank high among the easiest pussy he'd got. He thought this as he thrust languidly into it. It was pussy all right, fine, normal, average pussy and that was good enough. Her attitude left something to be desired. He pulled out and tugged at her leg. "Roll over," he told her, tired of looking into the glazed stare she must have imagined was showing passion. "Are you going to put it in my ass?" she asked. "Why not? You like that don't you?" he asked back. "Sure," she said, without conviction, "It's great." He let her get to her knees and offer her ass before pushing back into her pussy. He felt a quiver that was perhaps gratitude or perhaps an incentive to stay where he was. It became a determined up and down as he fucked her, with the occasional wiggle as he thrust in. It made her average pussy more interesting. Just to see, he licked his thumb and put it on her asshole. She stiffened predictably as he rubbed her anus. She didn't like anything that had to do with her ass. He had known why she picked him from the moment she walked up to him in the bar. It wasn't that kind of place, at least not her kind of place. It was small, dark and unextraordinary. The sign had a neon palm tree flashing pink and green and the barmaids wore grass skirts over cutoff jeans. That he knew that signified he was a regular. The barmaids would call the bouncer on any stranger parting their fronds to see what was underneath. It wasn't the kind of place this hopeful starlet would go to be seen. Someone, probably as a joke, he thought, had told her that he could help her get in the business. "Relax, I'm not going to do anything else," he said tersely, "Expand your horizons. You might find it feels good." He didn't know why he was doing her the favor. She wasn't going to last a week if she didn't shed her mid-western prudery. Maybe it was better that way. But she thought he could help her and this was about the only thing he could do for her. Maybe she listened. Maybe his accelerating thrusts were making her hot. She did relax and her ass was more active. She didn't stiffen at all when he pushed his thumb up her ass. That was good, he thought idly. He had lost interest in everything but fucking. His thumb was little more than a marker as he hunched against her rear rapidly. She wanted to give him pussy. He was taking it. It was a fine, normal, average orgasm. He jerked three or four times with the shivers that ran through him and then stroked slowly in and out to soothe the aftershocks of the ejaculation earthquake. "That was great. Was it good for you?" he asked cynically. "Yeah. I came so hard," she tried to sound genuine. She didn't have a chance. She might get to be the second naked girl in the shower if she did nudity. But it wasn't his job to tell her that. "You know, you look familiar..." she said. Here it comes, he thought. His ambivialence came from being that square mid-western boy himself. Mom left home when he was 10 to be a star. At least it felt that way to an abandoned 10-year-old. His dad was supportive and tried to explain that she had to go where they made the movies. Then, when he'd won an athletic scholarship to Arizona State, she had the audacity to e-mail him with concerns. He seemed a little full of himself, she said. He should be careful in front of the cameras because he was representing his school, state and a lot of other crap. Be careful in front of the cameras. That was a joke coming from her. Who went through high school with the painful reminders of how careful she was in front of the cameras? Seeing your mother walking around naked 20 feet high on a movie screen was tough enough and then she was wiggling over, under and around naked guys that weren't his father. There were the nasty taunts and even worse, the guys that were trying to be friendly by saying how hot his mom was. He knew they wanted to fuck her. If she wasn't his mom he'd want to fuck her too. It wasn't their fault they acted like that. They were boys and it was normal. They weren't taking off their clothes for everyone to look at, freeze frame, study. Be careful in front of the cameras, indeed. He understood it better in college. He gained perspective. And his mother started getting big parts without being naked so much. Part of her celebrity status rubbed off on him and that wasn't so bad. He made peace with seeing her breasts casually slip out now and again because everyone had seen them by now. Then he got sucked in by the vortex of fame. Big money! Bright lights! Famous mom! He'd snoozed through a major in history with a minor in accounting and that was enough to snag a job in payroll at a 'major studio' where his mother made most of her films. At least he'd had his head on straight from past experience. He didn't let himself be blinded by the glare. He ignored voices that told him he was important in his reflected glory and generally avoided the high life. But there were always those that saw him as a path to the kingdom, like the girl who was pretending to recognize him for the first time with her cooze dripping his cum. He wasn't above letting them dream long enough to fuck them. "Yeah, that's my mom," he admitted, "She's done pretty well since she left her 10-year-old son to become a star." "That must have been tough," she said and he saw a hint of sincerity. It made him more bitter. Now she was going to tell him how her step-dad made her suck him off when she was 10. They were all fucked up. He guessed they had to be to think they could beat the odds. "I guess I got over it. I took the job she got me," he said. "I can't bitch too much after that." "What do you do? Do you work in the movies?" she asked. She probably didn't know. Otherwise she wouldn't think some accountant could help her career. Her eyes lit up when she asked if he was in movies. He quelled his urge to promote himself. "Then you know how much everybody makes!" her enthusiasm was undimmed. He didn't tell her the accounting job was second choice. He had turned down the first offer cold. He wasn't going to step in front of cameras again- ever. He might look full of himself. He had turned down the chance she was whoring herself after. He didn't think she'd understand. "So, you want to do it again?" she asked. "I've never fucked a real celebrity before. I mean, the first time I didn't know. So it'd be fucking a celebrity when you know who they are." He wasn't a fucking celebrity. That was his mother. Still, the prospect of another tumble was vastly superior to trying to make small talk and he didn't want to kick her out. "You can put it in my ass this time if you want," she offered. "My finger?" he asked blank-faced. "You know what I mean," she was coy. She knew who he was the first time. Her new enthusiasm could only mean she thought her ploy was working. She still didn't like it in the ass, but she was more willing after their talk. He considered fucking her ass just to make her pay for trying to play him. "Well," he said looking down at his limp dick, "I'm going to need some help." The Hollywood hello, the universal greeting, she was used to it and ducked down with a giggle. She'd been sucking every cock she saw since she hit town, if she hadn't started on step-dad when she was 10. It gave him time to think about his motives and what he really wanted. It wasn't something sappy like one woman and true love. Getting pussy because his mom was famous was like payback. Still, there was something hollow about letting them think they were fucking themseves into the movies on his cock. He wanted the pussy, but on his own account. He wanted just as many girls to fall into bed with their legs open, only for him. And maybe he'd like them to be normal for a change, like the barmaid that was known as Sunshine. Not that he had much chance for any of that. He had opted to stay out of the spotlight. And Sunshine teased, but he knew he was just another tipper to her. She probably liked girls anyway. It was time to stop thinking about what he wanted and turn his attention to what he could have. The blonde head- real blonde, he noted in passing, was moving ceaselessly in the area when he normally wore a belt and he could feel it working. It was all up, down, suck, suck at this point. They showed you their personal tricks when they had a hard-on to perform on. She wasn't much of a performer. She was a wetter. As his cock rose up she varied her sucking with very tonguey licks around the head and shaft. She didn't think it was a big show either because she didn't stop to look seductively into his eyes as she did it. She was trying to lick as much lubrication onto his cock as she could to ease him into a pussy that couldn't respond while she had the knot of unease in her stomach. He could admire that if he had guessed right. Then she'd still have values even if she was ignoring them in her hopeless quest for fame. He liked to think the best of them until they proved him wrong. Some were harder than the whores on the Boulevard when you scratched through the surface pretense of innocence. That made him feel better about himself, but worse for them. He didn't suffer that much and preferred to think well of them. There had been little to shake his faith in this one's innocence. There had been less to show any promise for her chosen profession. Still, it would be crueller to tell her and spare her one more inconsequential sacrifice of her self-respect now that she'd given him a hard-on. That might make her question her worth as a woman as well as an actress. "You want to be on top?" he offered. He decided she was method. Somehow she had twisted their conversation to mean he would help her. She settled down on his cock with a sigh he might mistake for genuine. He was the answer to her prayers. She moved on him with a purpose that reeked of gratitude. More than before he could let himself be convinced that she was eager to bring him pleasure. Her face was happier. She moved freely and uninhibitedly up and down his cock. She was unconcerned by the swinging of her breasts or anything that was not stroking his cock with the motion of her pussy. He could believe that she wanted it to be good for him with little effort. It was almost like she wanted it. It was so much better when he could enjoy a moist pussy without his cynical knowledge. "Touch me, touch me please," she cried out as her hips shifted into another gear. He pretended along with her. He reached up to cradle her breasts so they only surged against his hands as she bounced up and down. He moved his fingers over them to give her some semblance of sensation. She was very excited. He was making her feel good. She was driving her hips down on his cock with the passion of an approaching orgasm. It helped him to imagine that too. It made it feel more like making love than fucking. For all he knew she was enjoying it. She had to be a little bit because she wasn't a good enough actress to invent it whole cloth. And she was giving it her all, at least all it took to make his cock strain inside her. "You want to stay the night? We can get breakfast in the morning," he said when he had released the strain with a stream of cum inside her. It was more polite than asking if she had anywhere to go and if she was getting enough to eat. She didn't look that run down, but letting it show was always the last thing that happened. "Whatever you want," she said dutifully. "We can do it all night if you want. You're a nice guy and really good in bed." It would have struck him better if it didn't sound scripted. It would have been even better if he suspected it was true. Even if he granted himself that it was likely he was kinder than most of the horndogs she encountered, it didn't make him nice or good in bed. He let her curl up against him as he lay back. He knew she was trying to demonstrate her appeal, but he felt desperation and perhaps some learned defense mechanism in her needyness. Maybe he was reading too much into it. She might have had a perfect childhood where she was loved and spoiled. Still, he couldn't get the idea of her pretending to love her molester out of his head. As a courtesy he suggested they stay in touch. If it gave her a false hope, it also gave her a lifeline before she decided to walk off the top of a tall building. He had no reason to think he could, or intention of, helping her, but she'd fucked him and he felt he owed her that much. If she was more sensible he might be able to find her a job in his office. If she was good at numbers she might be a big help. But he'd seen it before. She wanted the bright lights. If she was going to be gainfully employed in some other area, she would want it to be far from where Hollywood taunted her from down the hall. "Rough night?" Lloyd asked when he arrived a few minutes late. "Forgot my stick," he said. "Had nothing to beat them off with and they overpowered me and swarmed all over me." "You didn't want to be on camera. You trying to become a writer now?" Lloyd scoffed. "Imaginative accounting has its place, but we're not the department that makes 100 million grossers come in as losers in the net." Accountant humor- Hollywood account humor- not quite the oxymoron of the generic type. He shrugged off Lloyd's interest and went to his desk. Lloyd wasn't in charge of him. For that matter, he sensed no one really was. He might not have to do anything to keep his job, but he did mostly because it would be more boring not to do something. Less a perk than a burden, it also meant he would have to work twice as hard just to get on the radar and then step it up to gather enough notice to move up in the department. In a way it was like the wanna-bes seeking him out. That wasn't going to lead to anything, either, for either of them. He really had no need for advancement or the one great love at the moment. Still, it would be nice to find someone that was looking for a no-fault sex partner just to remember what it was like to be wanted for himself and not what they wrongly thought he could do for them. "Coffee, Jill?" he asked as he passed the next cubical. "I'd love some," came automatically from inside. He didn't even hear the joke because he'd never sent anyone to get his coffee. He was on his way and he had two hands. It was strange that it would seem so strange. There were some things about this town that he never bothered to understand. "Hey, thanks," Jill said when he set the styrofoam cup on her desk. "It's black," he said. "I don't remember how you take it." He did- two creams- but she had creamer packets flowing over in her desk drawer. And that was part of his problem. Not with Jill, because she was neither interested nor interesting. In general, he feigned a distance that was counter to developing the relationships he thought he wanted. Just like everyone else in this fucked up town, I'm fucked up, he thought. Maybe if I didn't spend every night in a bar... But there he was, slightly green and pink by turns in the light of the sign, sitting by the window. Sunshine came with his drink. "You on a health kick?" she asked as she set down the Bloody Mary. "Not getting enough celery in your diet?" "Tell me, Sunshine," he ignored her quip. "What does a girl like you look for in a guy?" "Just what I see," she said. "You look perfect to me." "Nah- I'm not trying to pick you up," he waved her off. "I'm just feeling sorry for myself, wondering what I do wrong." "You weren't doing anything wrong with the blonde last night," Sunshine obseved. "Starlet- wanna-be- somebody played a bad joke on her, told her I was important," he said. "I mean with real women. Women who don't want to fuck their way to stardom." Sunshine shook her head and then looked at him. "Well, you might try talking to someone," she suggested. "I think I just got about a week's worth of conversation out of you." He didn't want to waste her time and she wasn't interested. He'd just known that. He was probably right in her case. He was good with knowing. But she had brought up an interesting point. Sure, he tried to think kindly of the girls that came on to him, but he despised them. Well, despised might be too strong, but he thought they were shallow or foolish at the very least. How much did that carry over into his opinion of every women in this fucking town? Whatever the problem, he had identified part of it earlier. He spent every night in a bar. He got up to go home. He started to throw down some money as an extra tip for Sunshine and stopped himself. He wasn't buying her advice. He wanted to feel she had offered it to be nice. He could find a more human way to thank her. It wasn't the first night he'd come home to his apartment alone, but he might be more sober than the other times. It was certainly earlier. There was food in the frig. He had many toys. There was a stunning view of the street and storefronts from his balcony. He had solitude. That had been an unquestioned comfort before, but upon sober reflection he began to wonder why. Well, he shut himself off. Again the question was why. Amanda Clearwater hadn't been a groupie or a fame-chaser. She was as down to earth as any 20-year-old can be. She certainly didn't fawn over the big-shot athlete. They had a close, jocular sort of relationship where he felt as much pressure to please her as she did to please him. He might even have been in love, as far as he understood it. Amanda was certainly the partner, match, helpmate that would have balanced him, given them the unified front to see through the world of troubles. It was a smart pairing, a lucky pairing. Even so, there was so much of him that felt alone even when they were joined at the groin in some strenuous sexual pursuit. She seemed willing to come closer if he'd let her in, but he didn't. That was probably why they decided that, while the sex was great and they enjoyed each other's company, they'd never be more than pals. Pals was good for Amanda for a year and a half, well a year anyway. The other half year was an on and off thing as they 'saw other people'. He knew she was looking for someone better and couldn't blame her. He was using the opportunity to knock off a steady stream of the groupies and fame-chasers that had always lurked on the edges. That was hollow and he knew it, but how do you resist co-eds that show up in a rain coat and open it to reveal nothing but their naked selves underneath? It was more satisfying than an autograph and perhaps the one part of fame that did him as much good as the fans. It was probably better for him than the fans, in fact. They were giving something and all he did was take it. The only part of himself he contributed was his cock. In most senses that was all they wanted. Their mental masturbation of elevating him to a God and then feeling blessed they could attract him also rubbed off on him in the reverse. He knew who he was. He could only feel their sense of luring him from the heavens as stooping to scrape the bottom as he gave in to easy pussy for the sake of the wriggle and the squirt it provided. The contempt for that which was easily gained was part of it. Also his need to over-think every damn thing was in there. And at the bottom of both was his overkill in correcting the over-estimation of those around him. He was worth something. He didn't doubt that, but less than the praise and probably also more than he let himself believe. "What the fuck is this?" Sunshine was belligerent when he gave her the package. "A fucking present," he said, stung by her reaction. "And how am I supposed to thank you?" she asked suspiciously. "Take it and shut up," he said, still irritated and a bit unprepared for the venom. "It's a thank you for being nice." Her face jerked back as if that had been a slap and he saw that he had made her feel the way he had at her attack. It was another example of his smooth way with women. Lash out so you're both miserable, that was the answer. "What is it?" she asked almost apologetically. "Fucking flip-flops," he said. "Yours look about done in and I thought I'd be clever and sensitive. You know, personal touch, because you cut the crap and were honest with me." "Can we start again?" she asked with a hint of demand. "Thank you. I'm just not used to getting something for nothing." "Not for nothing," he said, "And me neither. I guess that's why we're acting like porcupines." He upgraded his chances with Sunshine. Not to fuck her, he still thought she liked women, but to be friends. They were two of a kind, it seemed: Two cynical bastards ready with a switchblade because they didn't trust anyone. Then he faced the crossroads of another predatory woman. It wasn't clear what she wanted, but it seldom was until he at least got them home. He could fall back into his old ways or he could resolve to make this the first night of becoming a changed man. He still didn't know what she wanted and they were wrapped in a bundle, naked on his living room floor. She didn't think he was a studio big-wig and didn't know who his mother was. All she was making clear to him was that she wanted his cock inside her and she didn't want to wait long enough for them to walk to the bedroom. He was used to eager, but this went past that to demanding. Her heels dug at the back of his thighs as she tried to force his cock into herself. It was like she didn't think he would if she didn't make him. He didn't understand her problem. She was pretty enough and if her tits weren't big balloons, they were natural. As for the part he'd just slid his cock into, it felt just like pussy. He didn't get why she seemed to think he wouldn't fuck her. "Now ride it hard and make me scream," she growled at him. Her arms came up under his and her hands grasped his hair. Her look was hard, daring him. He wasn't sure whether she was daring him to disappoint her or to obey, but she was serious about whichever it was. Okay, he thought. I get it. You like it rough. He slammed into her so she wouldn't yank on his hair and she smiled. One hard thrust wasn't enough. Her heels kept pressing and her fingers stayed entangled in his hair, although she didn't pull. He pulled back and rammed again. When she was reassured he knew what she wanted, her hands came down to grip his shoulders. Now she might have been hanging on him except that he was driving her into the floor as he jabbed into her. Her tortured moans were contrarily content as he thrust his cock into her with what would have been brutality but for her wanting it. "Harder! Make it hurt!" she begged. She was squirming most pleasingly under him as he stabbed his cock into her. He could feel how badly she wanted it. He couldn't thrust much harder, but his hands were free where he rested on his elbows and he brought one over her grab her breast and squeeze. Her body jerked, her hips sawing as his cock fucked into her. The look on her face was agony, but he knew it was the agony she craved. He grabbed the other breast as he pounded into her. She'd done it before. She knew how to let her legs surround him without interfering with his hip's motion. Otherwise the way she held on, the tightness with which she pulled at him would have made moving nearly impossible. She showed surprising strength as she clung to him. Every muscle strained as he slapped hard into the saddle she made of her crotch. "Ahhhh! ARRRRRREE!" She was a screamer. She pawed at him as she was cumming. She pawed with feel and hands as her grip eluded her and she seemed to be desperately trying to make her limbs obey her command. He sped his thrusts, keeping them as hard as he could. He pulled at her breasts. He tried to make it as overwhelming as he could as she was frantic in climax. She was panting in mewing sounds as the crisis passed. Each time he thrust into her made her mew again. Her grip had become weak and he pulled away from her. She looked up woefully at the desertion. "There's something you need to finish," he told her. He wasn't sure where he got the conviction, but he was sure he was pushing a button. He pulled her into a sitting position and then pushed her head towards his still-erect cock. She resisted, but she scrambled back until she was kneeling in the right position for him to fuck her face. "I said finish it," he told her again, still pressing her head toward his cock. She didn't go on her own, but she allowed the pressure to push her down until he felt his cock sink into her mouth. She was on her hands and knees and at his mercy. "Suck it," he ordered her. She was subtle in her invitation to abuse her. He had shyed away from forcing her all the way down on his cock, not even pushing her down until he felt the beginning of her throat at first. She sucked at his command, without moving. He began to fuck her mouth. She did little to help until he went deeper. He pushed her down and bumped the back of her throat. She began to suck with a will. It fit in an insane way and he pushed her down until he was thrusting his full length into her mouth. She coughed and gagged but did not pull away. He wasn't forcing her firmly enough to prevent it, but she didn't try. He didn't have long, or the motivation, to examine it. He was ready to cum and kept fucking into her throat. It seemed she helped as he came, but he was too busy cumming to be sure. Then she threw herself backwards so she was laying on her back, propped up on her elbows, legs spread wide, and stared fiercly at him with a tear-streaked face. "You animal!" she accused. "You forced me to do that." "I made you do what you wanted to," he replied. "We both know what kind of dirty slut you are." This was not all instinct. He had encountered a woman or two like this before. Where he had reacted to a feeling before, he was now confident how he should play it. She liked both ends of the power trip. He had done what she wanted and then made her do what he wanted. He was sure she was satisfied. "I'm not a slut," she argued, and then promised, "I'll make you pay for that." So she wasn't done. It was going to be his turn again. The only mystery was the first one: what did she want? "You can make me pay in the bedroom," he said, getting up. "I'm tired of scraping my knees on the carpet." She looked around like she was casing his place as she followed him, except she didn't seem happy with his possessions. If she was a burglar that would be odd because some of his stuff was expensive and worth stealing. She was all business again when they reached his bedroom. She pushed past him to get on the bed first. She scowled at him. "You know how you're going to pay. You're useless otherwise," she told him and opened her legs in emphasis. He was fairly certain he knew how it was all going to play out. She seemed confident he shared that insight. He wished they could pause in the game long enough for him to ask why she was here, but that would burst the bubble and she obviously had no desire to do that. He walked slowly to the bed to make her wait and then got down between her legs as he knew she wanted. She was going to be queen again until it was his turn. He put out his tongue and licked along the slit of her pussy. She surprised him a little. He expected her to be harsh and belittling, to grab his head and demand, but she lay back with a sigh and let him eat her. Her hands came up to play with her breasts and her legs lolled loosely to the sides. She seemed content to let him please her, although he suspected that if he wasn't pleasing she might intervene. There was nothing in it for him to make him confirm that. He licked. He sucked. He let his fingers follow the wrinkles of her labia and then slide inside her. She took it all with contented sighs and subtle shifts as he excited her. He hardly felt her air of entitlement to differentiate this act from any other time he had gone down on a woman. It seemed so normal even as he knew it wasn't. She didn't even bark instructions as he brought her near. Her crescendoing grunts were her way of urging his fingers to plunge into her faster as his tongue belabored her clit. She squirmed more to incite him. Her hips banged up and down as she came near and then jerked up off the bed, arched on her buried heels as he made her cum. Then her thighs trapped him as she quivered. The game was going to restart in earnest. She left him there, face pressed to her pussy, as her breathing slowed. "Do you have anything for me?" she asked before she released him. He didn't but he was in the mood. Still reclining, she summoned him to kneel by her head with a crooked finger. She used the same finger to lift his cock and then tickle his balls. At the signs of life in his prick, she deigned to sit up and use her other hand to hold his cock as she played with his balls. Life was rapidly returning and she looked up with a patronizing smile. "It won't be much longer, will it?" she asked. She wasn't eliciting a response and he groaned instead. It was still her turn and he let her tell him what she wanted. "I want you to fuck me like the dog you are," she obliged. That made it clearer to him. In one way it was odd that it was so much the same, but in another, there were only so many orifices to fill and few things to stuff in them. It was silly to balk or hold out for novelty when it felt good however you did it. He supposed he should feel complimented she left him so much on his own this time. As she got to her knees and he got behind her, there was little she could do to control him beyond shout orders. Not that he'd need them. He knew what she wanted. "Pretend you're a man anyway," she sneered as he located her slit and pushed in. He had gone to the hilt, but obviously not hard enough for her. That was not going to be a problem. Her butt stuck up like an obelisk as she crouched with her chest pushed down on the bed. She was tilted just right and open for him to drive his deepest into her. He grabbed her hips and made the second thrust count. "There you go! Make me feel it!" she said with unexpected accord. She wasn't the only one feeling it. More than drilling her on the floor, he was enjoying the soggy reception of her pussy. He could feel the chubby lips of her pussy squeeze around him as he pressed on them at the end of a hard thrust. Her pussy seeemd to suck at his cock as he withdrew and the solid resilience of her buttocks against his belly made him feel so deep inside her as he rammed back in. He nearly forgot what she really wanted in the pleasure. "Ow! Lick it or something!" she protested when he remembered and tried to push his thumb into her asshole. Instead he pulled his cock out of her to her yelp of protest and bent to spit. Then he was back in with a hard thrust and his thumb was smearing the spit over her anus. He licked his thumb as well before pushing it into her ass. "Fuck me, dammit! Don't play with it!" she scolded as he worked his thumb deeper. It was an unnecessary reminder. He held her by the asshole and drove into her. There was too much satisfaction in spanking hard on her offered ass for him to neglect slamming into her. Finally he had to rouse from his thrusting before the excitement went too far. Maybe he was supposed to make her cum before he switched, but that wasn't going to happen. He was too excited to wait for her. "What?!" she squawked as he pulled out of her, cock and thumb at once and grabbed his cock by the base. "No! You can't!" she lied to him as he proved he could. It was enough that she didn't scream as he drove to the hilt in her ass. That was proof enough that he had done just what he was supposed to. He allowed himself to think that it might have been better than she hoped as he took her so completely and suddenly. "I... don't... do... this!" she claimed as she was. Her argument would have had more force if she hadn't stayed where she was and taken it. There was no attempt to pull away as he drove his cock up her ass. She only screamed her displeasure as she held her ass up for him to plunder. It was asshole all right, with all the constriction and heat, but he was finding the pillage shouting louder in his ears. No doubt, the effort it took to force his cock in until he slapped on her haunches was part of it, but it was his complete mastery that made his blood sing in his ears. "I can't take it!" she screamed when she had been too long for it not to be a lie. Her protesting cries were just a part of the feeling. He rammed into her ass as she wriggled at his invasion. There wasn't going to be much more. He threw his weight behind his hips to get all he could before he came and could have no more. "Noooooo!" she keened and shivered as he thrust harder. Yes. The tremor was all over her. He could feel it around his cock as he fucked her ass. He knew something was happening but it didn't penetrate his mind in his fury to thrust- once more, just once more before he had to slam into her and lose all control as his cum spurted out to fill her ass. His thrusts were funny little jerks of the last fraction of an inch of cock not in her ass as the spasms sent cum flooding her bowels. He felt them as tingling in his scalp and a cold string pulled through his spine. It wasn't just an orgasm. "You fucking bastard!" she said when he stopped twitching with his cock still deep in her ass. "I told you not to." It took a moment for him to assemble the last moments. It took another for him to respond. "Who cares what a slut like you says?" he asked. "You know you wanted it. That's what all sluts want." He thought he felt her shiver again as he called her names. It could have been his own reaction lingering, but he thought it was her. It should have been, according to his understanding of the playbook. "At least take it out now," she was pleading. "Not until I'm ready," he continued the script. He found he really wasn't ready. He was just feeling the usual pleasure of an ass. Before he had been too hurried, too distracted by the action to appreciate it. It wasn't the same, obviously, but it was nice to finally remind himself he was balls deep in her asshole. There was little point after the brief reminiscence. He pulled out, her asshole clamping to let him feel the withdrawal. He wondered if she was done and if they'd finally get to why she was here. "You can be a mean bastard, can't you," she asked, but it was appreciation and not accusation. "I can be a lot of things," he said without committing. "A lot of guys get scared off by what we just did," she said without naming it. Skipping over assuring her he wasn't a lot of guys, he went straight to, "So, why did you think I'd be different?" "You looked the type," she said, without leaving her small talk. "Okay, I know what type," he said, tiring of the fencing, "that mean I've become your favorite or something?" "Could be," she said, not happy he wasn't following along. "Aren't you going to ask what I can do for you?" It was hard not to laugh. What could she do for him? It was odd to be on the other side of that question. She had piqued his interest. He was willing to fall back into line to learn more. "I'd never think of such a thing," he said with fake sincereity. "But you wouldn't mind if I offered," she said sharply. "I'm not sure what you're offering," he said. It was an interesting line to tread. He still hadn't identified her by face or type and he didn't know. It was also the line of a man feigning innocence. It was amusing how it worked. "So you don't know who I am?" she asked, her doubt showing. "Someone important, I'm gathering, but I haven't been able to place you, no," he said honestly. "Then how about this," she proposed. "I can see you're not hurting, but how'd you like it if I was to come over from time to time so we can... play, and I'd bring a little something in appreciation." It was so funny he didn't have the heart to laugh. In fact, his impulse was to accept her offer just for fun. But that was a little mean and he didn't know she deserved it. "How about all of the above without the little present?" he asked. "I might like to play enough to not need a bribe." She was clearly offended by his naming it. She was even more suspicious why he was turning it down. "You find me attractive?" she seemed honestly surprised. "I find you exciting," he countered. "I take you're from around here, so you understand the difference. Fake boobs and dyed hair do not a real person make." "You quoting someone?" she asked suspiciously. "Look, you want to fuck or not?" he asked, tiring again of sparring. She looked down at his limp cock and then snorted. She was very literal. "I mean again sometime," he said. "I thought we did all right. I bet it'll be better now I know what you like. It took me some time to catch up." She opened her mouth but paused. He was sure she held back a quick retort and then said, "What's in it for me?" Now he was on familiar ground. He was going to offer the same nothing he offered the misguided starlets that thought he was a way to open doors. "Just what you had only maybe better," he said. "I'm just saying." "Not saying much," she said. "You're not looking for a way in, are you?" "No," he said, dropping all pretense. "I'm in. I was just trying to guess your angle before I told you." "And you don't know who I am?" she asked again. "And you don't know who I am," he parroted. "Okay, who are you? I don't recognize you," she said. "You first," he said, "you brought it up. I don't recognize you either, but I don't know everybody." "Isn't it better that way?" she asked. "Then it doesn't get in the way." She was either a really big fish or a little one who had made too much of herself to admit. He couldn't tell which one. He decided he didn't care. She was making sense that ignorance could be useful. "You still want me to be your gigolo?" he asked. "Because I am available most nights." "I was trying to find out your interest," she back-pedaled. "I was sure you knew who I am." "So if I don't want something, we can't fuck?" he asked. He was toying with her now. He got it. She liked control. If they didn't want something, where was the control? "Why would you want to?" she revealed too much with the question. "I like to fuck," he said easily. "And I find it refreshing when it's not to get something other than laid. But it's up to you. You know where I live now." She wrinkled her nose. He imagined she had a picture of walking in on him slam-fucking some starlet. He didn't think she was the type for group scenes. "I'll think it over," she said. That seemed to be the parting line. She rolled over to sit on the edge of the bed. She shifted gingerly as she came down on the butt he had just ravaged. That made him smile. "You leaving?" he asked, "because we can have breakfast if you stay and you don't even have to fuck me again if you don't want." She looked back over her shoulder at him. He was laying where she had left him, not pursuing, only looking at her. "You want me to stay the night?" she was again incredulous. "Up to you, but sure, I kinda like to cuddle up to a warm body while I sleep," he said. "And you women are so cute in the morning." "You mean horny," she was getting the attitude again. "You're acting like I didn't pay you enough," he said sharply at the attitude. "What is your problem?" "I can't see the angle," she complained. "Nobody in this town is nice for no reason." He had to admit she was right. Except she was wrong- sort of. He wanted no more than to have the chance to unravel the mystery she presented. He could go without fucking her if she wanted it that way. And what was he out if she slept over and had breakfast? Breakfast. "How about this?" he proposed. "We just had sex. I'm not complaining it sucked. I enjoyed it. Isn't that enough of a reason?" She thought it over. Sex was a second currency. She had thought she was trading it for whatever influence she had. It wasn't very valuable in the scope of things, but more than staying over and a meal. "It doesn't add up," she said, getting off the bed. "I still don't see your angle." Knowing it was hopeless to say he didn't have one, he tried the ambush approach. "I'll lick your sore ass and make it better if you stay," he offered. "You can even tell me what to kiss and when. I'll worship you, Mistress. Can't you stay?" She raised an eyebrow. He didn't think she was convinced by his sudden masochism, but it made her pause. She was gauging his desperation and what she could do with it. "You're a funny guy," she said finally, deciding against him. "I would, but I don't think you can satisfy me. I need a man, not a worm." He gave it the old college try. He wasn't too disappointed as she dressed and left. He was sure he made enough of an impression she would be slow to forget him. She'd be scrambling to identify him. It occured to him that it was better she left from that standpoint. It was too likely that she'd discover who he was when he went to work the next day. That left identifying her, which he decided he would not pursue. She'd said it. It would only get in the way. And it didn't seem there was that much between them in the first place. "It's good to see you're getting out again," Sunshine said as he sat on his familiar chair. He noticed she was wearing his flip-flops. "Sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to make you jealous." She laughed at that, but then put on a 'just bit a lemon' face and said, "and I'll cut your dick off if you do it again." "Nobody but you, babe, nobody but you," he assured her. Too bad about Sunshine and girls, he thought. He was pretty sure she'd stay the night if she came to his place. She'd finish up, not like the mystery woman. No one came to whisk him away that night. He didn't stay until closing either. Sunshine may have, for all he knew, given him good advice but, as usual, he was ignoring it. To be fair, he hadn't had much opportunity to chat anyone up so far, but he hadn't tried either. He knew that it might take getting up and leaving the oasis of the bar and he hadn't even gathered the resolve to stop spending every night there. It was getting easier to come home not so drunk and find something to do. He had a whole shelf of books people had given him and he was discovering reading. Some of them were quite good. He hoped the givers had mistaken his thanks for sincere because he would have meant it if he knew how good they were. Sunshine's flip-flops, back to Black Russians, those were the changes in his life. Both were nice their their separate ways, but he was stalling again. He made an attempt to respond to someone, but they were looking at someone next to him. It was that kind of week. "You are a strange bird," Sunshine told him and he should have heard the warning. "You always fuck women without telling them your name?" she asked when he wondered what she meant. He belatedly put it together when he answered the knock on his door. "If you'd said who you were, I would have stayed," his mystery woman said. He stepped back to let her stride into his apartment. She took a position in the middle the floor and turned to look at him. He closed the door and stayed there. "If that was the price, it was too high," he countered. He knocked her back again. It was like she never left. They were sparring after the bell instead of four days. He didn't care. He was serious about what he said. "Then you want me to leave?" she asked. "Depends on what you came for," he said. "If you're after a power fuck, then you're wasting your time. I have no power and I don't want any." She smiled nastily. He braced for whatever withering reply she was preparing. He was not braced for her reply. "And you don't want mine," she said. "You want to fuck me. We're circling each other like defensive beasts and we're on the same side." "Take off your clothes," he said, still standing by the door. She hesitated, assessing him carefully, and then removed the scarf from her throat. She stepped one more step into the room to drop it on his coffee table. She had made sense before and if he'd had a lick of sense- and wasn't the defensive beast she'd accused him of being- he might have understood. She'd said it twice- about his angle. But he didn't want to admit he didn't have one. He wanted her to give up what he clung to. She had to accept him unknown, because he wouldn't accept her the same way unless she surrendered. Still, she was undoing a rather expensive blouse in his living room at his order. He hadn't fucked up completely. He still didn't know who she was, as she had obviously identified him, but he was going to be big about it. He was going to surrender as she should have. It gave him the slight illusion that he was making progress. It made him seem braver than her. As long as he didn't remind himself he had little to lose and no idea what she had at stake. There was no mystery. His memory was both visual and tactile of every part of her. The excitement came from her bending to his wishes. She wore no stockings of any kind. As the skirt came down, she was left in a camisole and silk panties that tied in double strands above her hipbones and were little more than a panel over her pubis otherwise. The camisole joined the rest and he stopped her. "Leave those," he said. "Turn around." She moved slowly, deliberately. The panel behind was broader than the front and he was puzzled at the engineering. He had time as she turned slowly, obviously aware of his intent to ogle her. He noticed he was breathing hard as she displayed herself for him. "I'm not sure where I want you," he said, walking over to her. He looked straight into her eyes. They had begun something that they were both loathe to break. She regarded him evenly, neither with apprehension nor desire. He couldn't read anything there. "Where would it upset you the most?" he asked. Her eyes only flickered, but he was staring into them. He looked past her and knew. It was so simple he should have known it himself. "Take off my clothes. I'll think about it some more," he told her, hoping to keep her uncertainty alive. Her hands betrayed her as her fingers fumbled and they trembled slightly on the buttons of his shirt. She knew he knew or feared he knew. He could appreciate how that warred inside her as she feared and desired the same thing. She was as good on either end of the power spectrum, he saw as she squatted down to remove his trousers and boxers. Her nerves had not recovered and her trembling was erotic as she drew down his clothes. She was poised with her face inches from his cock. It was already rising in anticipation of fucking her. She paused in position, face hovering near his growing erection. He let her wait there, drawing out the moment he would order her to her feet without touching him. He could feel her tension along with his own at the obvious command he did not give. "I've decided," he said. He was fairly certain it wasn't shivers of joy he felt as he took her hand and lifted her to her feet. Her breasts wobbled with her trembling. But her eyes were determined despite the apprehension he saw creeping in. She looked at him steadily, awaiting the fatal command. Instead, he put his fingers to a nipple, letting it rub on them as it moved. He was smiling with the anticipation that seemed to crackle like electricity between them. His cock was throbbing with the excitement. "Are you wet enough?" he asked her as if he suspected her of failing him. He didn't require an answer. He dropped the hand that had been teasing her nipple and slipped his fingers under the silky covering to feel for himself. She jerked involuntarily as he touched her. He could have felt her panties and known she was wet enough. She was flowing enough to soak them through. This wasn't the place for it. He extracted his hand and turned her to march her to her doom. Despite herself, he felt her hesitate on the last steps to his balcony. There was no doubt about her trembling when he pushed her to the rail and came up behind her. "A nice view of the street, isn't it," he asked her in her ear. Whoever she was, this was dream and nightmare in one. He should have guessed and knew it the moment her eyes betrayed her. She was on display and that both scared and excited her. Exposure heightened everything for her. If she was identified- the consequesnces. If she was even seen- the delicious shame. "I could have you suck my dick, but then you couldn't appreciate the view," he taunted her. He wasn't going to be able to take much more himself. His cock was nestled between her buttocks and her trembling was arousing him beyond his control. He moved back far enough to yank the flimsy panties to her knees and then stepped in to rest warm flesh on warm flesh. "You want it hard, I imagine," he said in her ear as his hand ran up her back to bend her forward and then slipped around her cup her breasts. She bent at his urging, hands on the rail and elbows out to let her incline. Her hands gripped tight as she braced for him to take her. He teased her for a moment, actually making sure of his aim before he thrust in. Then he took her. She tried to choke off the gasp. He squeezed her breasts and it came out anyway. "You know you want it. You know you like it. Why don't you tell them? Down there!" he badgered her with his words as he battered her with his cock. She gasped freely as his cock drove into her. She seemed insensible to her surroundings as he fucked her. He felt her rear move with more than trembling. She was not actively pushing back. Her ass seemed to move on its own at the building pressure he was fucking into her belly. He thought of it the moment before it came. "Arrggghhh! AHHHHHHH!" Screamer. Nothing for it. He pumped on, slamming even harder into her behind. His fingers tightened on her breasts in his own need. Her ass was working for his benefit now, helping him to finish, and it was his own venture into ignorance of his surroundings that took him. She co-operated nicely, as much as he could recall, as he clumsily tried to keep thrusting. His impression was that her rear swiveled most stimulatingly as he came in her, despite the panic she must be feeling at her exposure and the loud call to attract attention. But that wouldn't be all. He pulled out of her slowly, purposefully extending the withdrawal to gather his wits. He stooped to find her panties around her ankles and just as slowly drew them back up her legs. Once in place he reached around to give her mons a pat before allowing her to turn and walk back inside. She was flushed from knees to scalp and he couldn't tell how much was blush and how much excitement. She was still breathing fast and shallow. "You could suck my dick to calm down," he suggested. Her brows showed the look she turned on him was meant to be stern, but her eyes were wide and her pupils still darted in the aftermath of her panic. She looked hysterical instead. "You are a bastard!" she said finally. As it took a full minute for her to produce that epithet, he took it as praise. "Never listen to me again, I take it?" he asked. She managed the dirty look this time. She couldn't do it without a hint of a grin. Now he knew it was praise. "It might not seem so bad after I'm done with you," she threatened. "Right now?" he asked, "When I'm powerless to satisfy you?" He kept it light, teasing, but he hoped for an amnesty for them to talk seriously. She had sought him out again. Did it mean he had pleased her more than she admitted before? And if he had, was this to become a regular rendezvous? "Delay all you want," she said. "It will give me more time to add to your apology." "Apology? Oh, my dear, I am deeply sorry from the bottom of my heart that I excited you so horribly well. I wish I could take back your screaming orgasm, but what's done is done," he said. "And you'll pay for it," she said. "In kind if I can manage it." Something occured to him as she kept her merciless facade. "I'm not going to pry," he said. "I'm intrigued by who you might be, but I won't ask. I've liked it so far. I'm content with that, but I have other questions." "What else could you want to know?" she asked. "Did you come back because I'm not a danger or was there something else? I guess I mean, do you like me?" he asked. "Insecurity? Insecurity you are willing to admit? What is wrong with you?" she sounded scandalized. "I'm fine with being a fuck toy," he said, a bit perturbed, "but I want to know if I should like you back." "Like me back? Are we 12?" she was still sneering. "No, we're grown-ups in a cold, heartless town. Twelve will take some maturing on our part," he said. "Do you want to grow up with me or what?" She laughed. "I guess I know what you mean," she started. "I was going to say you were asking a lot and it struck me. Intimacy is upside down in this town. We can shake our private parts at strangers but don't ask me what I'm thinking." "You mean some people think fucking is intimate?" he mimed incredulity. "That's not what you mean is it?" she was suddenly concerned. "That we have to be in love to fuck or something?" "No- more like can I count on getting pussy," he said. "I want to know if I should show you my best stuff or keep something back." "This is getting us nowhere," she said. "I don't know. That good enough for you? I don't know how I'll feel tomorrow- or in an hour for that matter." "Okay, but the suspense is killing me," he said. "And don't blame me if you feel like it and I'm fucking some wanna-be and her six girl cousins when you show up." He made her laugh again. "That I'd like to see," she said and her smile made him wonder if she was serious. She was right about the town. They were sitting on his couch naked after he'd fucked her semi-publically and now they were having the discussion. It was like- more than like, it was the real fear that you might get used without using someone first. So they'd got the using out of the way before they found out what it meant. "I'd also like to see some deference," she switched gears to a disapproving tone and pointed to the floor in from of where she sat on the couch. Trying not to react with more than his real surprise at the sudden shift, he slid off the couch and crouched where she pointed. She had been turned to face him and had to lift her leg in a sweeping arc over his head to settle square on the couch with her legs bracketing him. She settled back on the couch and regarded him with one eyebrow cocked. He let his gaze drift down from her dimissive expression until it was on the fashionably denuded pouch of her pussy. He knew what she wanted. She was done talking. She wanted her turn. He tried to sit on his heels as much as he could and bend down to put his mouth on her. His hands were on the floor and his arms trapped by the front of the couch. He was all tongue, tongue for her service as he licked the pouting lips that folded over the mysteries inside. One of her heels managed to find the coffee table behind him. The other was off to the side, toes bent down to search for a tenuous footing on the floor. She was not firmly placed and it eroded the fiction of her control as his tongue parted the outer lips to seek the hidden guardians within. She was too grateful for his tongue and squirmed precariously as he probed her pussy. Her hand gripped the arm of the couch, but her butt was not stabilized. It seemed to him that she was slipping off toward his mouth as he pushed his tongue deeper inside her. All that, he found, made no real difference. "Can't you take your time?" she scolded him. "Is everything about shoving it in? Can't you wait to be admitted first?" It was her turn and she had the right to be demanding. He let his tongue retreat, knowing her real protest was how quickly she responded. She was already welcoming even if her vulva hadn't swelled into full arousal. He toyed with the inner lips, letting his tongue venture up to swipe at her clitoris from time to time. She finally gave in to the inevitability of her position and slid forward so her foot, toes at least, could find support on the floor. Now her heel on the table became a tool for her to grind her pelvis in his face as he licked her. She'd have to find another reason to scold him, he thought as he tasted her arousal. He pushed his tongue into her again and this time there was no protest. She seemed to feel smashing her pussy on his face demonstrated her mastery of him and he was free to arouse her any way he was able. "Good boy! Get it in there now," she addressed him like her dog, if she was a bit breathy about it, "That's a good boy. Keep licking." Her bottom was no longer slipping. It was rocking most deliberately as his tongue swirled and stabbed and probed the pussy smashed against his face. She was making sure to smear her secretions over his nose and cheeks and bring his nose into her quest for satisfaction. It robbed him, as he was sure she intended, of some of the credit for her arousal, but he appreciated the help. Underneath the facade they had the same aim and he was pleased to see it approaching so quickly. After all, he did owe her something for what he'd done to her. He was sure it was explosively rewarding for her, more than for him, but her particular proclivities also meant there was a cost that made it so special. One couldn't happen without the other, but he had forced her to a risk that actually frightened her. He wasn't frightened by her cumming in his face. He liked it. And there was nothing threatening about acting as her slave. He wasn't insecure. He could bow and worship without feeling his actual manhood was threatened. She was quick to test that, even as she was sitting up and arranging herself after thrashing most ungracefully as she climaxed. "Stand up," she ordered. "Bring that little thing closer." He moved forward until his shins hit the couch. He was standing between her wide-spread legs as she examined his cock. She put out her index finger and lifted it just behind the head to get a better look. "Is this ever going to work again?" she asked him derisively as she let his cock drop and petted it with her finger. "If Mistress continues that, it will," he said. "Mistress is very exciting." She grinned widely at his address. She ran her hand over her hair automatically to smooth it into place. "Mistress, is it?" she purred, "Well, Mistress is very exciting and you will make this rise up and show her." She batted his cock to emphasize her words. It wasn't a punch in in the balls, but neither was it a pat. She slapped his cock hard enough to make him jerk instinctively and made it swing in front of her. She giggled in amusement at the sight. Being slapped into arousal wasn't his deepest desire. He didn't think he'd like it, but it wasn't so much- so far- for him to break into the fantasy they were spinning. Happily, it was not her intent. She went back to her original examination, petting and tickling as he stood in front of her like a soldier at inspection. "Mmmmmm," she purred as her attention had its intended affect, "it does like me. I think it wants to stand up and say hello. Make it." He had been staring off at the far wall while she toyed with his cock. Her purring appreciation didn't attract his attention, but the sharp order at the end made him look at her. She was looking at him purposefully, with a hint of a smile, like a producer that has just told the starlet she needs to suck his cock. He looked into those eyes as he brought his hand from where it had been clasped behind him back and wrapped it around his cock. He watched her as she looked down to watch him stroke himself. He wasn't humiliated to be ordered to masturbate for her enjoyment. He wasn't excited beyond the usual by doing it. He found it was her fascination that thrilled him. He watched her watch and felt his cock grow in his hand as he imagined her eyes on his rising erection. "No, no, don't go too far," she slapped his hand away. He was barely at full stretch. It was a long way from too far for him, but it was her turn. She got up and led him toward the bedroom. He found the excitement of uncertainty even more helpful than his hand in making his cock get harder in anticipation. She turned at the edge of the bed. She looked up into his eyes and smiled some more. "I bet you'd like to fuck Mistress in the ass," she said. "You'd like her to squat like a dog and fuck her right in the pooper, wouldn't you? You'd like to ram it right in her tight hole and make her scream, wouldn't you?" Her playful manner warred with the hard words. He wasn't ready for that, but he didn't know what he was ready for. His hesitation stood him in good stead. She made her meaning clear. "Bad boy!" she said sharply and slapped his hard-on. "Maybe Mistress should fuck you in the ass instead." He couldn't help but jerk when she hit him. It wasn't playful and it stung. His cock swung out of the way of real pain, but even the threat made his balls tighten. He wasn't even thinking about what she threatened when she went on. "Oh! That got a response. Too manly a man to take it in the ass?" she asked. "Well, then... lie down." He'd never considered it. He didn't bother now. It seemed she was trying to make him as nervous as he made her. Good for her and good luck with that. He lay down, waiting to see what she was planning. "Now Momma's going to ride her little man," she said as she got over him. That hit him as hard as the slap. He wasn't even aware that it was a tender spot, but the idea of fucking his mother made him break into a sweat. As he felt her engulf his cock and slide down on him, he was barely able to wrest his mind out of the shock to wonder if she had chosen those words on purpose. She knew who he was, or said she did. That might be enough for her to suppose he'd respond. How she'd know, beyond a guess, he couldn't figure. He didn't even realize it until that moment. "Oh baby, come on, make Momma feel good!" she purred as she rose and fell on his cock. She'd spent the magic coin with the first one. He was looking at her and not seeing his mother. The flinch had passed, but he was still sweating. He buried his confusion in the very real pussy that was moving on his cock. She wasn't his mother but she was fucking him and that was pretty good. "Please, Mommy, make me feel good," he begged, in case that would somehow make it better for her. "Oh yes, baby, Momma's going to fuck you until you cum right up inside her and make yourself a brother to play with," she promised. So far it was mostly play. She was just starting, lifting nearly off his cock and settling back with turns and twists of her hips. She hadn't begun to move faster. It was the promise as much as the action that had him holding his breath, not that the action wasn't good. "Can I touch Mommy?" he begged, feeling restless just laying there with her riding him teasingly. "Oh yes, baby, touch Mommy. Touch Mommy the way you like," she granted in her good Mommy voice. He reached up to fondle her breasts and felt her drive down on him with more purpose. She moved only slightly faster as he stroked the globes and pulled at her nipples, but she came down harder, making him feel his cock drive into her. This hard-on was going to stay for a while. He wondered if she was going to ride him until he came as she promised or if she'd change her mind once she'd made it good for herself. His cock wanted her to move faster. He wasn't sure what he wanted for himself. Feeling so deep inside her as she dropped on him was good and he could take that for quite a while. "Play with Mommy's clitty," she gasped a little later, "Touch Mommy's pussy." She wasn't rising as far. There was nearly as much up and back as up and down and she was in the middle speed between slow and frantic. He could feel his excitement go up a notch and expectation make his heart race. He reached down to touch her and let her slide over his fingers as her rear pumped on his cock. "Oh baby, Mommy wants it!" she gasped out and began to slam down on him as she went to frantic. He added a little side to side as she rubbed on his fingers. It was all he could do as her desire threatened to bring him with her. He was panting as much as she was and he was just laying there with her fucking him. He no longer cared about next because next seemed upon him. "Oh god! Oh! Oh! Oh god!" she gasped as she froze and trembled on him. She didn't scream. He kept rubbing her clit and tried to fuck her but she didn't seem to notice. Her eyes were closed and her mouth open. Slowly she reversed that. She looked down at him, he thought uncertainly. "That was good," she sighed. "But you didn't get off, did you?" "No... Mommy?" he said, uncertain how to address her. She had broken from her role. She was talking like herself in the wake of her orgasm. He wasn't sure if she was done or if it was just a momentary lapse. "Then I order you to fuck me," she said, not resuming the play. She slipped off him and fell to the bed beside him. She looked over at him expectantly. "Just for you," she said. "Just fuck me so you can finish. You deserve that." She only had to ask twice. He got over her with the wishful idea that he'd make her cum again, screaming this time. He slipped into her carefully and tried to go slow, but his cock was impatient and he found himself unable to control it. He was too close when she came. His cock was threatening to go off from the insertion and he let the reality conquer the fantasy. He could hold off and dribble or fuck her and cum. He went to full speed in a dozen strokes and was thrusting hard and quickly to her encouragement as he felt his balls tighten. It was almost like cumming twice, he mused as he rolled off her. Her on top and his finish were like two separate encounters. He didn't linger in this pointless rehash long. "You didn't scream," he commented. "That's what you have to say? I didn't scream?" she was incredulous. "I thought it went without saying that it was good and we seem to have more than the usual fun together," he defended himself. "I just noticed and I commented." "Well, it happens sometimes," she said. "Maybe it means it was more than the usual, to steal your phrase." She was uncomfortable talking about it. It seemed strange, but maybe the reasons were more personal than he could imagine. That made him think of her pretending to be Mommy. "I never wanted to fuck my mother," he said out of nowhere. That got her attention. She raised up on an elbow to look at him. "I would have fucked a woman like her if she wasn't my mother. I know she was attractive, but I didn't want to fuck her," he said. "I figured that out in high school." "That's right, famous mom," she seemed dismissive. For a second he thought there was more in her tone, but he was more stung by the dismissal. "And that's my trauma, at the root of my problems," he said, more argumentitive than he intended. "What's yours?" "Being a two-horse woman in a one-horse town," she dismissed his question. "No hills to climb. No challenges." He thought she was lying. He didn't give it more thought. He was being open and if she wouldn't be... Well, that was her problem. He didn't think his story came as a surprise. Any college freshman would jump to the conclusion he had confessed. "You knew she was coming," he accused Sunshine. "I didn't even know she was breathing hard," Sunshine dismissed him. "I guess that happened after she found your place." "I thought you were jealous," he said. "Insanely. This is my fugue state," Sunshine said lightly. "So my balls are safe?" he asked. She gave him a look. He was wasting her time for this. "I doubt that, if you play with piranhas," she said. "You know who she is?" he asked. "Nope," she said and he suspected she was lying. "I don't get out much. I have to work." At least Sunshine was a constant. She was the same old girl he could count on. Unfortunately, he suspected his visitor could count on her to keep her secret as well. It seemed he was the only one in the whole town who didn't know who she was. He could forgive Sunshine. He didn't even have to. She was right to keep confidences. And if she was more loyal to women than men... Well, that fit his suspicions. He managed a walk in Griffith Park- before dark- before the wild things arrived. He would have felt better about it if he wasn't back in his usual chair in the bar when darkness came. He was still going home early. He was in the middle of a three- parter, also called a trilogy, and entranced. The hero was in publishing, but he found resonances with the movie biz he could appreciate. What he was, was waiting for his mystery caller to reappear. They had, he thought, parted on even friendlier terms the second time. He thought that meant she would return. His hope was growing thin as the days passed. There had to be plenty of guys on the same side. There were lots of people who were hunted for what they could do for someone. He was silly to think he stood out among them. He was just like the rest. He wanted what she could do for him. It was just personal and not professional. He was only fixated because he didn't get out more. Sunshine was right. He had to meet people to form relationships. He couldn't sit around and wait forever. He was still less than enthusiastic when Mona slid into the chair at his table. He knew she was Mona because she introduced herself on sitting down. She did that in lieu of asking permission. He looked lonely. She was lonely too. This was the standard stuff that supplied him with women. It was so familiar he didn't have to listen. She thought he was the way in. He was supposed to let her and then let her down easy in the morning. He was not eager. Mona was eager enough for both of them. Even Sunshine rolled her eyes at the obviousness of it. Mona wasn't going to let him slip away. She had a hard sell that started with her foot snaking up his trouser leg and became a hand provocatively sliding up his thigh. She ignored his disinterest. She was on a mission and she was motivated. She overruled his every objection to the point he wondered why she didn't just drag him from the place and ravish him. He found out the reason when Fortune arrived. They were both lonely and he looked like just the man that could fix that for them. He thought they were dangerous. There were too many things two women could do with him- like distract him while the other knocked him on the head and tied him up. He was still wondering how it all came to be as they were dragging him off to his apartment. If he'd spared a thought from his dire meditation on his peril, he might have wondered how they knew where he lived. He wasn't the valiant hero to persevere against all odds- not anymore, maybe not ever. He was also drunker than he intended when he went to his favorite spot. His sense of danger had not faded, but his hope to avoid it had. He was resigned to his fate and trying to take any good he could from the situation as they sat him on his couch and proceeded to undress each other. They were good at it. They seemed to like what they were doing, but in a way that made him feel it was for him. Mona wasn't cooing over the full, round breasts she uncovered on Fortune for her own pleasure. She was making a point of displaying them for him. Fortune cupped Mona's pendulous globes as a way of offering them to him. It was working. They were each quite arousing and they were working together to enhance that feeling. When the naked women descended on him, they giggled and gave him suggestive smiles as they discovered his arousal. He had abandoned all but his hope for some enjoyment before they did whatever they came to do and let them strip him. They wasted no time. They seemed eager to move on to the sex part. Blonde Fortune straddled him to rub her perfect breasts in his face while dark-haired Mona sat between his feet and sucked his dick. These were not your average ingenues, trying to bribe him with their bodies. Mona's mouth was quite exciting, warm and eager, but she was skilled in keeping the fever pitch without taking him too far. When Fortune settled down on his cock, she continued the sport, always holding herself off just enough to not make him cum. Mona took his cock out from time to time to suck it before putting it back into her accomplice. It was nice enough and novel enough that he began to consider it might be worth whatever they intended. "Now he wants me," Mona announced. "Get off him." They seemed to still be in accord. Fortune dismounted like he was a pony and then led him to Mona, who was kneeling on the couch, leaning over the back with her butt presented to him. Fortune had his cock in her hand and wiped it over Mona's pussy as she wiggled her rear in anticipation. It wasn't pussy that Fortune aimed his cock at. She put his cock on Mona's asshole and leaned against him to encourage him to press in. This was disturbingly like every porn loop he'd ever seen. He suspected that was where they got the idea. Moan groaned as he sank into her ass. She tried to make it a sigh of content and then began to tell him what a slut she was and how bad she was that she liked his cock in her ass. His cock was also too big and she noted it was in her ass over and over, despite him having no doubt where it was. This he noted in passing. He also noted that Mona was not struggling, although he doubted she was as eager to be fucked in the ass as she claimed. She'd had a cock there before and he felt it was his due to get something out of this. It was tight like an ass should be and he thrust into it without needing more urging from Fortune. Satisfied he was committed to fucking Mona's ass, Fortune got on the couch beside her in the same position. "Now mine! Now mine! Do me too!" Fortune begged. Resistance was futile. Doubts were pointless. Mona's ass was hot and tight and Fortune had a butt begging to be boned. He pulled out of Mona and stepped behind Fortune. He rammed his cock into her ass just to see and she made a happy noise. Fuck worry. Fortune had a sweet, round ass and it made his dick throb to plug it. Both of them could take it, whether they actually liked it or not, and they both said they wanted it. His usual self-interest in the face of sex took over. He fucked Fortune a while and went back to Mona. He was calculating how often to switch and how many times he could when the door opened. "I can't say you didn't warn me," said a familiar voice. He had just thrust back into Fortune. He didn't see the point in stopping, not right away. He fucked her, maybe slower than he had been, and looked over his shoulder. "But I said six cousins and I don't know if these two are related," he quipped. She cleared her throat. He thought it was odd, but he didn't pursue that. He was waiting to see what she'd say next. She had no bitch with him fucking these girls. It wasn't like she'd ever shared more than sex with him. And she never said when she might show up. He was in the clear on this one. "Can't you at least have them blow you while you talk to me?" she asked. "I'd rather talk face to face." He held back something about how she'd rather be next in line to have her ass drilled and pulled his cock out of Fortune. She had a lop- sided grin on her face when he turned to her. He wondered if she was amused or confused. "What do you want?" it came out more confrontational than he meant and he quickly softened his tone as he added, "Do you want me to send them home or do you want to wait to see what's left when they're done." "Didn't he tell you to blow him?" she said to the girls instead of him. He hadn't, but they hopped off the couch as if he had. Mona on one said and Fortune on the other, they licked his cock as he faced his visitor. "I might want to play along," she said. "You know I can offer them what you only promise." "I don't know anything about you, except what you claim," he said. "But I didn't promise anything. They as much as hi-jacked me and dragged me back here. I thought they were going to mug me." She snorted at that. She was ignoring his pointed comment about the mystery she maintained. "Then shall I get comfortable?" she asked, but didn't wait for a reply before starting on buttons. Fortune was sucking on his cock and then handing it to Mona. He felt like he was in a split-screen between waist up and waist down. They seemed to be in a different place as the waist up part of him watched his mystery woman take off her clothes. It was odd beyond experience or even imagination. She made no secret who was in charge once she was naked. She walked over and took his cock away from both kneeling women and led him away from them to the middle of the room. "Now let's see if I can compete," she said. Strange hints were beginning to coalesce like vapors in a cold room. He hadn't gotten there yet, but he was noticing more and more. He'd had a hinkey feeling about Mona and Fortune from the first. Now that confident, even abrasive pair were kneeling meekly where they were left as she went to her knees and took his cock in her mouth. The two certainly hopped off the couch smartly when told. There was a moment before he recalled her awkward pause at the door. She was sucking his cock with a purpose and it made it hard to think. There was part of it too. She'd probably sucked his cock before. He wasn't thinking too clearly at the moment. But he was sure it was in his part of the game, not her idea, and that she had never knelt down and serviced him as she was doing. "Is that good?" she interrupted to ask. "You'll know when it's good," she said sharply. "You'll get a mouthfull of good if it's good." She put his cock back in her mouth and bobbed. He regretted his attitude immediately. He didn't mean to demand she suck him off. He felt a nebulous loss of some unknown better thing if she wasted the first one. "I didn't mean you had to," he said weakly. "If you had something else in mind." That only made her suck harder. Her hand came up to cup his balls. He was bouncing up on his toes as she pulled back sucking. She was going to finish him and that was that. "Maybe this is exactly what I had in mind," she granted him the reprieve of stroking his cock as she spoke. She continued to stroke his cock and send her tongue flitting around the head. He was shifting as if nervous as the whole process made him jumpy. It was like falling off a building when she moved forward to suck his cock again. There was no stopping what she'd put in motion. He barely felt the head of his cock rub along the top of her mouth as she moved on him. He was feeling the pressure build through the whole shaft down to his balls. Explosion was imminent and inescapable. Her tongue was pressing his cock into tight, wet confines as she bobbed and he felt his balls shake even as her finger slid back behind his sac and found his anus. He was cumming even as she pushed her finger in his ass. All he could think of was flood, deluge, of how he was giving her the mouthfull he threatened. How good it felt just happened. His balls jumped even more as she teased them when the torrent had ceased. He looked down, gasping. It had been more than a mouthfull. His semen was leaking from the corners of her mouth as she kept his cock in her mouth to lick. The shiny stains made her look like a ventrioloquist's dummy as she smiled back at him. "You were better," he said hoarsely. She tilted her head, still not relinquishing his cock. "You didn't just compete, you were better," he clarified. Then he got it. Maybe it was the blood seeping back into his brain. It came together. She was too much in control. It was too coincidental she would arrive when she did. She had arranged the whole thing. He kept that part as his own secret- that he had figured it out. Then he realized she thought he had. It made little difference beyond making what came next interesting. There were three naked women and a great number of games to play. He hoped she had planned some because everything he could think of was pretty rudimentary. "Then I should send them home?" she asked, finally assured that no more could be drained from his cock. He wanted to kiss her. He was seized with the impulse to lean down a plant a sloppy kiss on her mouth, semen or no, but he knew she wanted an answer. "Only if you stay," he said. "I can't handle more than you, but if you're leaving... well, I could probably do something." "No great plans for what three women could do for you?" she asked. "I just had that," he reminded her, "and I didn't say you should send them away. Only that you should stay and then I didn't care." She snorted at that. It made cum drip off her chin. "Always the romantic," she chuckled. "You should find a rich widow. She'd be putty in your hands." "I've got money," he dismissed, "I need excitement and you're just the twisted bitch to bring it to me. I thought I'd said that already." She liked him. (She really liked him.) He guessed it was better to see it than hear it. She wouldn't come back for more, wouldn't set up such an elaborate charade, if he didn't at least amuse her. For once, he saw the danger of carrying it any further. She wasn't even willing to admit her identity. It wasn't even enough to build cloud castles on. She was what she was and that was good. He didn't feel dirty after fucking her- no matter how dirty what they did was. He wasn't taking advantage. That was a huge step forward for him. Hoping for security like a naive girl did him as much good as it did the girl. He should be man enough to brave the future. "You girls can go... unless you want to stay..." she dismissed the pair that was now sitting on the couch. They didn't. They had done whatever she had bribed or hired or forced them to do. They dressed and left. Fortune paused by the door to politely say it was nice meeting him. She didn't mention how it was to fuck him. "So... what now?" she asked when they were alone. "I suppose answering questions is out of the question," he said. "Because it was amusing. And I said I'd like to see you with the starlet and her six cousins, so you had warning," she said. "You're not going to complain that you feel used, are you?" He gave that fair consideration. "If you hadn't shown up and I'd found out later, maybe," he said. "but as the appetizer for your entrance- that's exactly why I'm so desperate to keep you coming. Who else could think of that? I know no one could top it." "You keep gushing and I'll need a towel," she brushed it off. "And if you want to keep me coming, you need to do more than stand there naked. You're all right, but I'm hardly so innocent that looking at a cock is going to get me off." "You'll need a towel eventually," he observed. "Not that I'm in any rush. It's pretty exciting to see you with my cum on your face." He seemed to have shocked her. It was something. She looked up in surprise and he remembered. He knew he shocked her as he cradled her head in one hand and put his other under her jaw to kiss her. He swooped in without warning and was forcing his tongue into her mouth before she could throw up her hands in reaction. When she realized the intent of his attack, her hands came down to rest on his shoulders. She opened her mouth and they kissed animatedly for long moments. "I wanted to before," he said to her questioning look. "I had the urge and got distracted. It just came back. And I'm not sure why. I don't think it matters. It felt right." "If you weren't a smarmy little misanthrope..." she began and finished softer, "I'd think you were serious." "If I knew why I did things, I might be," he said after a beat. "But I'm honest. I meant it. I'm not making it up." She was uncharacteristically relaxed after that. She didn't break down and sob her life story or even drop hints. He wasn't asking. He had learned that much. He wasn't sure he cared any more. He didn't feel threatened and didn't need to defend himself. He didn't think she needed protecting either. Her relaxation revealed itself in a common, ordinary fuck after they'd lain in bed and explored each other like 12-year-olds playing doctor. No games this time, just touching her nipples to watch them pop into erection, fondling her butt and prying it open to lick her asshole, just for fun. She seemed more interested in his face, his eyes, his jaw, the nick in an eyebrow from a bloody collision in college. It became remarkable when he finally moved off her some time after the thrusting and screaming was over and she rolled onto her side rather then climb over him. He lay where he landed for some time to not break the bubble and then finally rolled behind her to cuddle like spoons. She did need a towel, but it was to dry off. The last vestiges of his semen, tiny crusts, were washed away when they showered in the morning. He didn't comment, still feeling he could banish the illusion. He enjoyed the feeling of another human in his place as he got ready for work. Only as he left, did he dare to comment. "I can't hope you'll be waiting for me, can I?" he asked. "You can hope what you want, but I won't be," she said. "I do have a life of my own, you know." He thought she might offer him some crumb, but that wasn't like her. He had to wait and see. It was what the big boys did. She had returned before, even sought him out and that should be enough. He wasn't looking for the love of his life. He was disturbed to have that thought. His mystery woman was hardly the one to dress up in that costume. They rubbed along rather well. The sex was amazing. He didn't really love her, but he was confused what the feeling was. Maybe staying the night was a mistake. He'd never had these thoughts about her before. He was very glad he hadn't made anything out of it. He sensed, more than some illusion to shatter, that him making something out of it would convince her it was a mistake. It had been so nice to wake up with a warm body next to his. He wanted her to stay every time. He knew at the same time that the idea was silly. It was just the thing to make her stop. Perhaps they both craved the connection, but they were the wrong people. It was making his head ache. The only thing he accomplished was confirming his job security. He hadn't gotten a thing done and no one cared. He tried to work on an account, but he couldn't keep his mind on the figures. He sat back and embraced his phoney-baloney job. "You and the Bobbsey twins make out all right?" Sunshine asked him. "They were twins?" he gasped. "And, yes, thanks to your buddy. She was the one who set me up. She wanted to surprise me." Sunshine looked at him like she was offended she'd believe such crap. "By walking in," he said and she smiled. "It was an elaborate trap." "Then I guess you can start begging for a date," Sunshine said. He was at a loss until he saw her arch her eyebrows at him. He was so slow. "You mean you?" he asked. "Why now?" "I don't mind guys that aren't going to try and get in my pants," she said. "Oh, I'd never do that, not unless you wanted," he said hastily. "Not that you could with your balls cut off," she said. "What? No, not that kind of trap," he said and then shut up. He was revealing too much and Sunshine obviously didn't want to hear it. She was leaning forward like she did, but he knew she didn't. "Your secret is safe with me," she said finally. He didn't know why he was tongue-tied around some lezzie that teased men. As if she really cared, whatever she pretended. She just didn't want men hitting on her because she didn't like them. He was puzzled by the vehemence of his reaction. He didn't care Sunshine liked girls. That meant nothing to him. He just didn't want to air something personal she'd have no interest in. That was it. They were finally getting to the crux of the matter. Big trial scene with revelations and answers coming like machine-gun fire. The only bad thing was his date with the books would soon be over. He hadn't thought she'd come back the next night. She never had before. But then she'd never stayed either. He had to get out more. It was unhealthy for him to obsess over her. They enjoyed what they had and he was threatening to ruin it by wanting more. He closed down the bar two nights straight. On the second one Sunshine had to pour him into a cab and the cabbie had to drag him to his door. He woke up in the hallway without a clue how he got there. He was letting something get to him. He wasn't going to admit his problem. No woman had ever affected him like this before. He thought his mother was the worst and that was sunshine and flowers compared to how he was acting now. Someone was slyly switching folders on him at work. Someone had to do the work they pretended he was doing. He was drunk at night and just as incoherent when he wasn't. He was marking time until his mystery woman appeared again. When he made her show up, he wished he hadn't. He had to get out. That was right. He was too messed up to put it off. Besides, breaking out of his familiar routine was his only hope of breaking his self-destructive moping. He had no intention of following her. When he caught the glimpse he didn't even turn back to see if it was really her. He kept on down Wiltshire without looking back. He intended to go cross town, there were other places to be out and about. It was as if he was cursed from that first tresspass. If he had stayed at home, in his routine, it never would have happened. He would have drunk himself to death and that would have been more merciful. They crossed the intersection two lanes over, but he couldn't stop himself from seeing. It all made sense. It made sense he wouldn't know her. It made sense everyone else did. It made sense why she didn't tell him. It made sense that she didn't want him to know. It made a terrible kind of sense, the kind of sense that you can never unlearn, unsee, unknow. He knew at the moment that he had lost her. He could only be glad that he wasn't in love. He went straight home and waited. He didn't mix even one drink. He knew she would come as surely as he knew what she'd say. He sat on his couch and stared at the door. He felt as hopeful as a prisioner on death row. "Why did you have to know? Why couldn't you leave it alone? Why did you have to follow me?" She was screaming as loud as any orgasm as she came in the door. She had been crying. "I didn't!" he protested. "I needed to shake... something. I was just there! I drove off when I thought I saw you. I didn't want to know!" She collapsed into his arms. It was so cruel. They held onto to each other the way they both craved, but only at knowing they could not have any of it. "We were doomed anyway," she said as she heard his story. "I knew it couldn't go on much longer. I mean, I stayed the night!" "But can't we? Even if we know? How is it different?" he asked. "Don't you see? That's no longer the point," she said patiently. "This is just a sign. This is the place to break it off. I can't go on staring out the window. You can't keep drinking yourself into oblivion." "I wouldn't if I could count on you," he argued. "But you can't," she said again. "You know it too. It was stupid in the first place. When I found out I should have stayed away." "No!" he blurted out. "Don't say that. Don't take away any more." "But I knew it would happen. I knew we would get along. I knew it'd be great. I knew the love would come out," she had to force out the last words. "Is that what it is?" he asked. "I don't feel it. I need you. I don't love you that way. I just want you." "Listen to yourself," she mocked him. "You don't know what love is do you?" "But how can you just walk away?" he was pleading. "With great difficulty, but knowing I have to," she said. "This will destroy more than us if we go on." "You don't love him?" he asked. She nodded. "Not like you, but... he's a good guy. Not as exciting, kind of a stick... but solid. He's good to me. And he doesn't mind me being a thrill seeker... within reason." She gave him stern look to stop him begging for a loophole. "We can't because we'll always want more. You didn't even know it and look what it did to you," she said. "We can't jump halfway off the building. It's just the way it is." He'd known it when he looked into the limo. He was only hoping she could work out some clever way to change the world. He stood up. "Take off your pants," he said. "What?" "Take off your fucking pants!" he said menacingly. She as every bit as uncertain as he could wish as she stood up and obeyed. "Everything," he said. "Just down there," he said as she reached for shirt buttons. He grabbed her roughly by the arm and pulled her into the kitchen. It was a very clean room. He hardly used it. He hadn't been in it since he'd made coffee for her the morning after she stayed. It was somehow appropriate for what he intended. He threw her at the table roughly enough she sprawled over it. "Stay there," he told her. He went to the cupboard. When he came back he set the bottle down beside her and pushed his pants down. He had had an erection since her hands went to the closure of her pants. Whether he loved her or hated her, she never failed to arouse him. She was frozen where he had told her to stay, sprawled over the table with her hands out to catch herself. Her cute little ass looked so white in contrast to the surroundings. "Bend more," he said. "Down to your elbows." As she bent forward he picked up the bottle: Extra Virgin Olive Oil. It was at once appropriate and the biggest joke in the world. At least there was going to be something virgin sacrificed to his rage at the uncaring world. He dripped the oil on his finger. He inserted the finger in her ass carefully and then gave her a jab as if he had just shoved it in. "You like this part, don't you, you conniving little bitch?" he taunted her. "No!" she protested. "I don't like it! I don't want it back there." "Too bad," he snickered. "It's what you deserve. It's what all manipulative bitches like you deserve." She grunted when he inserted the second finger beside the first. The violence was still play, but he was sweating with how true his words were running, as well as the excitment of what he intended to do. She had known and kept if from him, protecting him from himself. How arrogant! It only made him more determined because he knew she made the best decision. She was the strong one. She didn't fret over should be and lived in was. He fucked her with two fingers. "Feeling good? Getting hot yet?" he taunted. "You'll get hot when I ram my cock up there instead." "No, please, if you have to, please don't be rough. I'm serious, I don't like it. It hurts. It really hurts," she pleaded. The worst thing was that he believed her. For all the subtle clues he had read, he had a feeling she was not playing a game. She was sprawled over his table, waiting for him to bugger her because he told her to. She was going to do what he wanted because she- not some alter ego masochist- felt he deserved to punish her for what she did. He guessed he did love her. He couldn't imagine anyone else putting him before their own desires. "It'll hurt plenty," he said as he put his cock to her asshole. It was oiled and silghtly opened, but nowhere near enough for it to be comfortable when he pushed his cock in. He leaned on his cock to make it press in. "It'll feel like I did when you boned me in the ass," he told her. "No! Jeffery! Stop! Not like this!" she begged. "Just like this," he said and thrust forward. She screamed. It was too confusing to unravel as his cock drove into her ass. There was some vague sense that she needed to suffer to feel that she had paid for what she did, that she would worry at it unless she felt she had found redemption. There was some sense that he needed to rid himself of the resentment. What it was, as she would say, was as close to rape as it could be when she didn't try to escape. He rammed into her ass and thrust in and out. She squirmed and begged him not to be so rough. He didn't listen. He took her with the dormant emotions that rushed to be assuaged. It was not play. It wasn't really intent either. His hips moved in the service of his frustration and disappointment. He was fucking the cruel world for screwing him. If she stood for the world for him, he was standing for the world for her. It was painful, nasty and brutal, like them being torn apart. Cumming in her ass wasn't a climax. It meant it was over. It was revenge, but it wasn't satisfying. "Oh my god, you hurt me, you really hurt me," she sobbed. "You hurt me too, sis," he said as he gathered her into his arms. He kissed her on the cheek when she left. She rubbed his back as they hugged. There were tears, but no accusation in her eyes. If he had a glimmer of what he had done, then she understood it. He felt there was closure, but he wished they'd have had sex instead. Just one more time. They knew they couldn't be in love. Not that way. For one thing, there was her husband, Mr. Box-office Boffo director. She said she loved him, that he was good to her. He'd never be able to say he was good for her, just what she needed. He knew she was right about them growing too close if they continued, but he felt the loss. Her father was another reason. He was poison. Very powerful poison and his mother's husband. There was no question of him allowing them to be together if he knew and he had the power to make his wishes come true. And it was incest even if there was no blood between them. They were far too connected if they fell in love as they had without, at least him, knowing who she was. She wasn't the bright high school girl that told him what he was thinking in her letters. She had grown into something very different, yet they still resonated. It couldn't be. And that wasn't enough. Knowing it couldn't, didn't help him. It was a loss, more than death. She was there and he couldn't have her. "I'm not famous, I'm an accountant, buzz off," he said to the fawning girl. She was appropriately disappointed and perhaps less than appropriately flipped him off as she walked away. But he had been rude and maybe he deserved it. It felt healing to deserve something for once. He had been a remarkably good boy in the wake of the discovery. He had only needed a cab for the four blocks home a handfull of times as he grieved his loss. He had begun to actually do work at his job again. That was more for the therapy of keeping busy than dedication, but it was something. He was getting over the disappointment. He knew because there were strange feelings beginning to plague him. Mostly he had been numb. Now he was finding a strange restlessness as he sat at his table at the bar. It hadn't been so long that it confused him. He was horny. It had been a good long while since there wasn't some starlet or lush to take home, but not long enough for him to forget the feeling. "What do you do in the daytime?" he asked Sunshine when she came over for his order. "Why do you want to know?" she was suspicious. "Hey- weren't you the one that said to get out more?" he asked. "I want to know where to go." He had sobbed over his lost love long enough she knew the story. He had gone out- like she suggested- and look what it got him. She was too sensible to accept blame for what had happened, but that didn't mean he hadn't tried to put it on her. "You going to stalk me now?" she asked. "Before I'd do that, I'd ask to go with you," he said. She laughed. It was one of a limited number of responses available to her. She didn't think he was serious or she'd be harsh. She knew from long acquaintance that he was generally truthful, when not sugar-coating some adventure, but she didn't think he was coming on to her. She'd never got that vibe from him, no matter how many women he left with. On that subject, she was still wondering what went on with the girl that flipped him off. She looked over at the girl who was still scowling at him from across the room. "What happened with her?" she asked with a toss of her head in the direction of the girl. "Starlet. Not in the mood," he abbreviated. "Now where do you go?" "Everywhere. Anywhere. Just walk down a street. See where your feet take you," she said, still not giving out personal information. He could appreciate her position. The last thing she wanted was more losers trying to hook up- especially with her preference. It just wasn't like that. He'd discarded any interest long before. Sunshine was normal. That was the attraction. He'd like to feel normal some day. Horny was taking its toll. He even found himself checking out Jill at the office. He supposed she could be sweet if you clawed through the sarcastic bitch wrapped around the gooey center, but he also recognized the symptoms of a bad idea trying to bloom. His problem was the old problem in reverse. He attracted attention because people thought he was someone he was not. Who he was didn't draw flies. He could imagine the reaction if he walked up to a woman and said: Hey babe, I know what all the stars get paid. He was a dating cripple, self-crippled since he wouldn't trade on his most desirable qualities. Even the star athlete mystique had faded with the years. He'd feel stupid regaling anyone with tales of long ago. "If I cut off my balls, would you go out with me?" he asked Sunshine in a particularly maudlin mood. It was not your usual pick-up line. Sunshine gave him a hard look. "Thinking of cutting off your balls?" she took the less dangerous part of his question. "I'm getting the feeling it's the smart thing to do," he said. "They're not doing me much good and I hear the urges go away." He was drunk enough to be not serious and not too drunk to be honest. Sunshine looked him over again. "Not going to pass out tonight are we?" she asked. He waved his hand in an answer that was no answer. "I think one more and I go home," he said. "Where would you take me?" Sunshine asked when she delivered the one more. "Where ever you mysteriously go when you're not here," he said, just that much unsteady. He wandered a bit as he left, but he was true to his one more drink. Sunshine watched him leave. "Are you up?" Someone was shouting through his door. He went to the peephole to see. He toddled back to his bedroom to pull on his robe. He was a bit surprised to see Sunshine had waited that long. "I'm up. I'm alive. What is this, some new service?" he asked. "You asked me out and I'm holding you to it," she said altogether too brightly for the hour. He vaguely remembered saying something, but he couldn't imagine he had asked Sunshine for a date. That was prohibited and he respected the rule. By the way his head felt, he knew he'd been drunk, but he still couldn't imagine it. He grunted something non-commital and left the door open as he walked away. "I'll have to get dressed," he said. "There's coffee," he said as he reached the door to his bedroom. Well, well, he thought as he rummaged in his dresser. Sunshine in the house. If I could grow tits we could have a good time. He didn't spend much time on that thought. He was trying to pick something to wear without knowing where they were going. It was too early for evening wear, he decided. She'd never seen him in anything but broadcloth and dark trousers. He pulled out an old jersy and some jeans. Let her see the new me, he thought. "Wow, like a normal guy," Sunshine said as he emerged. "Where we going?" he asked rather abruptly. "To the beach," she said, not letting him dampen her spirits. Techincally Venice Beach is a beach. There's a beach there, but the attractions line the sidewalk away from the water. His headache eased as Sunshine dragged him along the vendors, performance artists and past the stalls. It was a bright day, but, hey, southern California. He finally dragged her out of the light into a sidewalk cafe that fronted a bookstore and made her sit down. He kept on the shades. It amused him to play celebrity where no one would think he was. It didn't escape him that most people were more interested in Sunshine than him. Decent food, bad service, overpriced- SoCal. "Sorry for being grumpy, but my head is just beginning to clear," he said his first nice words all morning. "You did go about two drinks too far," Sunshine confirmed. "But you did stop." "Thank you for your concern," he said and then caught himself. "I don't mean that. I meant to say thank you for dragging me along. And I don't mean unwillingly, I mean like dead weight." "Maybe I like to see you squint," she said with a bit of the usual barb sneaking in. He smiled at her. Too bad about liking women. She was California girl through and through, too much wheat blonde hair, too bleached by the constant sun. Bright smile, about a kilowatt to his aching eyes, and big blue eyes, and that was without the obvious attachments that made her tips so good. "Well, good for you," he said. "I feel like a normal guy out with his best girl." He didn't pay any attention to her sudden interest in her burger. He hadn't said anything, to his mind, out of the ordinary. He figured they both knew it wasn't really a date. They visited the bookstore and she was amused by the diverse titles that attracted him. He was amused by the odd and weird that seemed the bulk of the selection. "I didn't know you were a reader," she said as they left. "Just started," he admitted. "Can't drink all the time. And it's your fault." She ducked her head so he wouldn't see the blush, but it did her no good. Her ears turned red when she blushed and there was no hiding it. "I got as far as prying myself out of the bar anyway," he went on, "didn't manage the getting out until today." "I thought you just came in to see me," she poked him. "My choice of where I seek refreshment is totally influenced by you," he said. "You're about the closest thing I've got to a friend around here." He didn't have any idea how sad that sounded to her. He was just being honest again. And wasn't that what this was about? Going out and meeting people? Maybe he'd find a new friend and have two. Sunshine delivered him to his door safe and sound. He was about to thank her for the day when she bounced up and kissed him on the cheek. "Again... sometime..." he called after her as she disappeared down the stairs. It was puzzling. It was a mystery. It made his head hurt. There was no accounting for any of it. He was an accountant, he knew. It wasn't a peck on the cheek at the door. It was the violation of an inviolable law. Sunshine never went out with anyone. He had been too groggy to wonder when she showed up. He had been too... happy to be with her to question it later. It didn't make sense, but he had the feeling it was important to solve. He felt that future friendship rode on what he did next. "Would you be offended if I got you something for taking me to Venice?" he asked her. "Kinda, why?" she asked back. "Good, because I didn't," he said. "But I didn't get to say I had a nice time and thank you." "You're welcome," she said. "That's how that goes. Why do I need to tell you this?" "Because you've got rules," Mr. Honest had to blurt out. "And I seem to have broken one and I don't want to piss you off. I was serious about friends." "Rules can be bendy sometimes, just don't get weird, okay?" Sunshine said. He left it there, feeling he still went a step too far. They traded barbs the rest of the night until he was leaving. "Off to read?" she asked. "Ferlinghetti," he said, "Odd man responsible for many of the beat poets. Or so the cover says." "What can I say to the fantastic fooly-bear," Sunshine said mysteriously. He'd always had a rapport with Sunshine. She just seemed less prickly than he remembered. Maybe he wasn't so drunk he didn't notice. He didn't connect it with chasing off starlets. He found the poem Sunshine had quoted and read it. It was about a girl becoming a woman. It was about a girl becoming a woman after fucking a man. It was like everything else he was struggling with. It almost, but didn't quite fit. "Weekend," he said on Friday. "Very observant, but you've only had two drinks," Sunshine said. "I'm free," he hinted. "Yet still a decent tipper," she reminded him. She waited for him. He felt like she was daring him. "We could go to Long Beach," he suggested. "And watch the submarine races?" she said lightly. It was her turn to feel she had tresspassed. The look of horror told her he was serious and now afraid. "Kidding," she said. "What time will you be up?" "Whenever," he said. "I'm going home after this one." It was only stranger when he was alert. They missed the 710 and found themselves turned around. Without messing with a lot of numbers that probably mean nothing to you, they found themselves in Newport rather than Long Beach. He had a good excuse. In all his years he hadn't wanted to explore. He was, in effect, a visitor. And Newport didn't suck. A bit upscale and trendy, but Sunshine fit anywhere and he wasn't in danger of being reduced to a pauper by the prices. There was a big pavilion by the water and they wandered around in it just taking in the sights. He hardly questioned when Sunshine slipped her hand into his. It seemed like a perfectly friendly thing to do to walk hand in hand on the boardwalk along the water. The thing was that they weren't meeting people. They were watching people together. That was enough newness that he didn't question it. It occured to him how much it had been him and her when they got to his door. "Want to come in?" he asked to be polite. She surprised him by agreeing. "What about your lady friend?" she asked. It wasn't the first thing, but it was huge enough to be the first point of interest. "Esme?" he asked, "You don't know, do you?" She thought he was being smart. He quickly spilled more of the truth that he meant to reveal. Her eyes got very wide. He was afraid she was going to scream and flee. "Your sister?" she asked. "Half sister- by marriage," he said. "We were a combined family except I never lived with my mother." "And you didn't recognize her?" Sunshine was amazed. "Didn't see her in the flesh since she was 10 or 11," he said. "She's changed a lot." She seemed to consider something. He wondered if she believed this far-fetched tale. "My name's Jillian," she said. "Pleased to meet you. Why are you telling me?" he asked. "I mean, why now?" "Because you told me something," she said. "It's like you told me your deepest secret. I didn't feel right knowing that and having you calling me Sunshine." "I respect your privacy," he said. "I respect... everything about you." "What does that mean? Everything?" she asked. "What you do and who you do is your own business. It doesn't stop us from being friends," he said. She threw back her head and laughed. She wasn't the dumbest Dora on the block. A lot of stuff made sense now, some of it sobering. She opened her mouth to speak and then thought the better of it. Actions speak louder than words. She lunged toward him and planted her lips on his. He was shocked for a moment but got into the spirit and kissed her back. When she pulled away, he stayed where she left him. That was a good sign. "I can't have guys all over me," she said. "I have to keep them at arm's length." "Then... why?" he asked. "Because you're sweet," she said. "And the most honest man I've ever met. Even with yourself." It was going to take some getting used to. The process made Jillian feel even better about finally telling him. At first he was so shocked that it wasn't even a test, but he treated her like a friend even when he recovered. He didn't try to rush her into bed. She waited for it past the time she was ready. Finally she had to demand to stay the same as she had to kiss him first. He was only waiting because he didn't want to fuck it up. There was something about Jillian. She was so normal. He had the feeling she was his last chance. He knew he'd always seen her as an example, an anchor, a compass in his confusion, even before he suspected there could be more. She was there on the periphery. He didn't think he had a chance. He could only worship from afar. When he found that nearly every conclusion was wrong, he still wondered why she'd want him. It didn't take him long to discover he wanted her. He'd run over their times together with new understanding. He was a dolt. It was obvious from the first how they felt- at least once she was assured he wasn't just another pick-up artist out to love her and leave her. "Am I okay?" she asked with stupid doubt as she lay down beside him. "Other than being an idiot, I guess you are," he said. "It's just I've seen you go off with all those beautiful women," she said. "You are an idiot," he said and kissed her. Oh sure, her breasts were pale mounds with the pinkest nipples and years of waitressing had left her legs curving pillars of shapely desire, but she loved him. He could look past her perfection to see the happiness in her eyes as he held her. "Well, I guess, oh! Oh my," she stopped babbling as he moved inside her. "Yep, that was it," he assured her. "Now all we have is an hour or so to see if this is going to work." She thought he'd already begun to lie. He hadn't. He lay inside her moving gently as he explored her body again. He rolled her on top of him to look at her. He sat up to join her, hugging her as he still moved inside her. It was nearer two hours before he told her he'd keep her and began to thrust in earnest. She climaxed long before he was done. "I guess I have to forgive you for all the practice," she gasped as they lay together for the first time. "Don't forgive me anything," he said. "Let me make it up to you." ###