Title: How Porn Brok Into Tamara Divine, Chapter IV
Author: bobwhite
Summary: The tale of how a sweet, innocent Midwestern girl became
one of the most famous porn stars of all time.
Keywords: MC FF MOD FD

How Porn Broke Into Tamara Divine
by bobwhite

                          * * * * * * * * * *

Distant murmurs and the smell of frying bacon roused Tamara in the
morning.  She threw on a pair of panties and an oversized T-shirt that
she sometimes slept in and went over to her dresser.  *Better brush
out this bed head*, she thought when she saw what she looked like in
the mirror.  After grabbing a brush and picking out the loose hair
it'd gathered the last time she'd used it, she was going to start
working it through her tangled, dark hair.  But, before she could even
start, the brush slipped from her hand and knocked a picture from her
dresser onto the floor.  Then, she heard a call from the kitchen.

"Who left the fridge open all night?"

Anita's voice rang loud and with a hint of amusement.  It startled
Tamara, and that made her giggle to herself.  *Busted*, she thought.
She picked up the picture and stopped to look closely at it.  It was
one John had taken of her over the previous summer, and she looked
cute.  But something clicked in her head and she froze, staring at the
picture in disbelief.  She held it up and compared the picture of her
in the bikini to her reflection in the mirror.

Her long, naturally blonde hair was gone--in its place was shoulder-
length dark brown hair, and she could tell that the dark brown was
almost an illusion of the sunlight that was shining through her
window.  Her hair was, in reality, almost black, and where there had
been blonde highlights a month or so ago she now had dark brown
highlights.  *How does hair get shorter when you don't get a haircut?
Hell, how did all of my hair start growing dark??*

Her breasts, too, had undergone a much more drastic change than she'd
realized--she'd been just passing off the added cleavage as a late
growth spurt, but she now realized that she only dismissed it because
it had been so gradual.  Now that she thought about it, she had just
bought all new bras--D cups, because her C's were far too tight--and
she remembered that when that picture had been taken, she'd been
wearing an A cup bra.

Tamara dropped the picture again.  How could she have not noticed how
much she had changed?  She saw this picture *every day *when she got
ready for school or "work."  As if she suddenly didn't believe her
reflection was real, and momentarily forgetting her hands' unnaturally
aphrodisiacal touch, she reached under her shirt to feel her tits.
They were real, all right--and her hands, just by gently cupping them,
had excited her nipples and made her pussy gush with intense need.
She stepped back to her bed and lay down, quickly fingering her slit
to answer its demand for attention.

And as she (now suspiciously and grimly) expected, she brought herself
off to an acutely satisfying climax much more quickly than was
probably normal.  As she lay on her bed, half afraid and more than a
little panicked about her physical transformations, a disturbing fact
bubbled to the surface of her mind:  it had something to do with Jeff.
The thought appeared out of the blue, but it was very strong.

Her power of suggestion, which had grown from almost nothing to the
point where all she had to do was speak into a girl's ear to get her
to do anything she said,  manifested itself after the first modeling
gig.  And she knew how her tongue affected girls when it was too busy
to speak, as well.  Her hands, alive with a power to turn any woman on
like a switch (herself included), seemed to gain that ability after
her second shoot.  And, there was the fact now, if she so much as
touched her seemingly perpetually aroused pussy, every other girl
around would squirm and eventually make an excuse to go to the
bathroom, or to bed, or anywhere else they could go where they could
be alone--and Tamara knew what they did when alone, too.  That also
started at the Carlinville studio.

*I have to call Jeff*, she realized.  *I need to talk to him now....
*She didn't really know why she had to call Jeff, but it was suddenly
one of the more important things she knew she had to do.  She
remembered that he told her after the last shoot that he would be in
California until April 15th--tax day.  So, she left herself a note to
call him, and placed it on her mirror.

Tamara stared at her reflection, running her fingers through her hair
and even lightly over her T-shirt.  *I wonder why nobody else has
mentioned my changes... well, it has been gradual... my hair's been
changing... no, falling out!  My long blonde hairs fell out, and this
dark hair grew... my tits have grown pretty slowly... now that I think
about it, Emily did mention how I'd changed... Mom's been down a few
times, and even though we only visited for a little while, she didn't
say anything but she had to have noticed... holy shit, what's been
happening to me, and why haven't* I *noticed?*  Every time she tried
to properly explain her physical changes, she would look back to the
note she'd just written.

*Leave it alone.  Jeff will explain it*, some part of Tamara told her
as she walked into the kitchen.

"Oh there you are, Sleeping Beauty," Anita called to her friend. "Get
enough rest?  Fell refreshed?  Have a good time last night?  Can I get
you something for breakfast?  Would you like some bacon, eggs, milk,
or hamburger?  Care to explain why I have to cook all perishable food
that was in the refrigerator because you left it open all night?
Well, that's not fair... after all, I *did* throw out the milk, so you
can't have any of that... but care to explain?"

"Uh... what do you... uhm, Em?  *Et tu, Emi-lay*?" Tamara said,
sitting down at the table.  Her earlier epiphany about her physical
changes faded to the back of her mind.

Emily was blushing deeply from Anita's "have a good time" quip. But,
she was laughing a little bit too, and finally she said, "Sorry,
Tammy.  I narc'ed on you.  She said she wouldn't feed me if I didn't
say which one of us left the refrigerator open."  Then, Emily pouted
in a way that made Tamara want to take her to bed *again*.

*She has no idea how absolutely adorable she is*, Tamara thought.
"That's OK, Em.  I'll just have to think of a way to punish you
later."

Emily's flush deepened, and she covered her mouth to hide a smile.
Tamara just coolly smiled at her, and Anita snort-laughed.  That sound
made Tamara break down and laugh.

"You know what?  I don't care which one of you left it open.  But
you're both going to go to Shop 'n Save to buy some food.  I know you
have the money, Tammy.  You models don't seem to have any problems
with getting cash," Anita said.

"Model?" Emily asked, cocking her head to the side a little.

"Yeah... I, uh, do some... hmmmm, let's just say... *modeling*,"
Tamara said, raising one eyebrow but not making eye contact with
anything other than her plate of bacon and eggs.  The accent on the
word "modeling" left little doubt about the nature of said modeling.

"Oh... I see," Emily responded, smirking.  "I guess since we have to
eat all this meat for breakfast--and I assume lunch, too--you'll have
to think of something to do to burn off these calories so your...
*modeling*... doesn't suffer."

"I'm sure I can think of something," Tamara said, eying Emily
suggestively.

"You're not being coy, if that's what either of you think,"Anita told
the flirts as she finished frying up several hamburgers.  "But if it's
exercise you need, then you can *walk* your butts down to Shop 'n Save
and bring back some buns for these burgers.  And some pickles and
couple of tomatoes.  We're having bacon cheeseburgers for lunch, and
probably supper.  Get something to go with it."

"There's no way in hell I'm walking, Anne.  Let me finish my
breakfast, and I'll go to the store.  You wanna *come*, Emily?"

Emily chuckled before she could stop herself, making Anita groan in
mock disgust.  "Look, enough of that.  You two woke me up last night,
and it took me awhile to finally get back to sleep.  Then, I get up
and all the food in the fridge is warm, so I had to start cooking. I'm
glad you two got some last night, but you've got to focus."

Tamara and Emily exchanged quizzical glances, and turned to Anita, who
was already facing them.

"Focus on... tomatoes... and some kind of potato salad... made with
mustard...," she said.  "Focus... on... buns...."

"OK, OK, we get it," Tamara said.  "I will have no problem focusing on
your buns, Anne."

"I can't stop thinking about them myself," Emily added.

"I give up.  You two are... *(sigh)* Never mind.  Just hurry up and
eat," Anita said, forcing her voice not to break into a giggle.

An hour later, Emily and Tamara were on their way to the grocery
store, and Emily finally asked the question that Tamara had known was
coming sooner or later.

"So... is... uh, what happened last night... why you and my brother
broke up?  I mean, you like girls.  Don't know how you hid it before,
but why were with John so long if you were a lesbian?"

Tamara thought for a few moments before answering.  "Well... I don't
know.  I think I was happy with John, but... uh, well, let's just say
I've... had my mind opened... at college.  Look, I liked John.  I
think--"

"You *think*?" Emily asked, her voice sounding harder than she meant. 
"Sorry, it's just...."

Tamara waited for the end of Emily's sentence, and when it didn't
come, she continued.  "I was saying, I *think* that I was just being a
good, straight girl, Em.  I won't gross you out with tales of my
sexual escapades with your brother--"

"Thanks."

"... Suffice it to say we had some fun.  But when I'm with Kristi, my
main girlfriend, or someone else--"

"Someone else?  You have a girlfriend?  A *main *girlfriend?  I'm
sorry, that sounds like I'm judging you... I just didn't know, that's
all; please--"

"Don't worry, Em, I know you're surprised.  No, Kristi and I are not
exclusive.  It's not a typical arrangement, is it?  We're models and
we hang out a lot, and we have sex, but we're not strict girlfriends.
Anyway, like I was saying... uh, where was I?"

"'When I'm with Kristi...'"

"Oh.  Anyway, when I'm with Kristi, or even with you... damn, I don't
know how to describe it.  It's just... right.  It gives me more than
just a sexual rush, it makes me feel... complete.  When I look back, I
didn't get the feeling I get with women when I was with guys. I know
it sounds dumb, but it's the truth."

"No dumber than me begging you to fuck me last night," Emily
responded.  "Hey, is 'dumber' even a word?"

For some reason, that struck Tamara as funny and she started to laugh,
only stopping when they got to Shop 'n Save.  She parked the car, and
sobering, she asked, "Emily, tell me.  Did you come here just to see
if you were a lesbian?  CIU is nice, but it's dull; St. Louis
University is more your speed, I bet.  Why didn't you go there with
your friends?"

The smile slid from Emily's face.  "I... I don't know.  I don't think
so.  Like I told you last night, I've been with a few people since
Thanksgiving.  Most were boys and one was a girl."

"You said the girl wasn't as good a kisser, and that the guys couldn't
turn you on like I could," Tamara reminded her.

"Yeah, but... still... when I was with Amanda, well, she was really
into it, and she *was* a good kisser, but nothing near to you.  You
light my whole body on fire with a touch, a kiss, a lick... but she
didn't come close.  I had a lot more fun with the guys."

"What?" Tamara asked, genuinely curious.  "Well.  I guess that makes
you bi."

"Bi?  I don't think so, Tammy.  I need a guy.  I need that dick in my
pussy.  It may not be as good as your tongue or fingers... but... I
don't know.  Even though you got me off harder than Mike or even Bill
ever could, it's just... well, like you said:  it feels right. It
makes me feel... complete."

"So, what should we do for the next few nights?  Do you want to go
find a college guy to--" Tamara began before getting cut off.

"No!  No, Tammy, this weekend, I only want you.  And maybe Anne, but I
don't think she's game.  And if that makes me bi, then--"

"I was only kidding, Em," Tamara said.  She opened the door and got
out of her car.  "C'mon, let's grab some buns."

Emily got out of the car and ran around the car, stopping in front
Tamara and thrusting her ass out, inviting a squeeze.  "You can grab
these," she said while wiggling her ass in front of her lover.

Calling Emily's bluff, Tamara lightly ran her finger over the small
bit of exposed skin between the top of Emily's jeans and the bottom of
her shirt.  Emily took a deep breath through her suddenly clinched
teeth and froze as the sensations flowed from her small of her back
straight down to her crotch.

"Should I grab them now, here in the parking lot?" Tamara whispered
into the young woman's ear.  "Do you think you could stop me? *Would*
you?"  By that point, she was sliding her hand down the back of
Emily's pants a few inches.

Emily couldn't even say a word.  Her nipples had popped up so hard
that there was actually a dull ache to them.  If she weren't frozen by
the insanely powerful and all-to-public jolt of pleasure caused by
Tamara's soft touch, Emily would have reached up and squeezed and
twisted the ache right out of her nips.  But, it didn't come to that;
after toying with her for a few more seconds, Tamara withdrew her
hand.

"How... how did... h-how do you do that?  It felt so good I couldn't
move, and all you did... was touch me," Emily stammered when Tamara
started walking to the store.  "I would have let you... you know...
right here... no matter who saw, I would have let you..."

"I know," Tamara said, turning around.  "I just have that effect on
the ladies.  Want another demonstration now, or should we wait till
tonight?"

Emily licked her lips and regained her composure.

"Tonight, then.  Now, let's get some food.  And maybe this time, when
we go to bed, we can leave the refrigerator out of our little...
games," Emily teased.

Lunch, as expected, consisted of bacon cheeseburgers.  And, after
dinner (which consisted of even more bacon cheeseburgers), the ladies
found themselves doing what most people think women always do when
they congregate:  they watched TV, sipped wine, and held an informal
belching contest.  Tamara and Emily had rented a few DVDs while they
were out, and as the movies played, the wine flowed more and more
freely... as did the burps.  When the gastrointestinal mini-Olympics
were winding to a close, Emily and Tamara sat together on the couch,
and Anita was dozing under a blanket on the recliner, drifting in and
out of consciousness.  Emily sat down the third empty bottle of wine,
and when she stood up to get another one, Tamara stopped her.

"No, Em, that's fine.  We don't want to be drunk... but a nice buzz
doesn't hurt at all," a tipsy Tamara said.  She was in that magical
state between sobriety and intoxication--she knew she shouldn't drive
(not that she wanted to, anyway) or anything like that, but she
thought that she was still capable of some level of rational thought.
But the wine, having an almost magical flair for dampening
inhibitions, did a curious thing to Tamara's mind when she felt
Emily's hand sneaking into her shorts.

"Let's go to your room, Tammy," Emily said, her fingers growing
bolder.  Almost at that exact moment, Emily clenched her thighs
together and wiggled as if something were fingering *her* pussy at the
same time.

The subtle motion did not go unnoticed by Tamara.  The alcohol in her
system made her a little more daring than normal; mischievously, she
removed Emily's hand from her crotch and stood up, quickly gesturing
to Emily to stay seated.  Then, Tamara walked over to the couch and
whispered something into Anita's ear.  When Anita breathily agreed
with a "Yesssssss...," Tamara removed the blanket covering Anita and
sat back down by Emily.

"I told her to sit there, not to get up, and to keep her eyes closed
and pretend she's in her bedroom," Tamara whispered to Emily.

"What?  What makes you think she'll do that?  I mean, why would you
even say that--is this some game you two play?" Emily asked, trying to
steady her voice.  Her words quivered a little despite her efforts
though--and Tamara knew her soft words were melting Emily's self
control.

Leaning close, Tamara nibbled on Emily's earlobe before saying softly,
"No games, nothing like that.  Just trust me.  She'll do whatever I
tell her, if I say it close enough to her ear... just like you'll do. 
It's a trick I know.  You believe me."

"Ohhhhh," Emily whispered, the warm, moist air of Tamara's words
melting her will.  All doubt drained from her face, and she asked, "Do
you know any other tricks?"

"I thought you'd never ask," Tamara whispered, still close to Emily's
ear.  "You already know about my hands, but I have one more for  you. 
I want you to make me cum... but you can't touch yourself. You can
try, but you'll find it impossible to reach your pussy until I let
you."

Tamara kicked off her shorts and spread her legs, laying back to give
Emily easy access.  Emily got naked and knelt half-on and half-off the
couch, placing her face right in front of Tamara's pussy for the
second time in as many nights.  Right before she took her first lick,
Tamara lowered one leg and let it fall over the front of the couch.

"I want you try and keep an eye on Anita.  Watch what happens as you
get me going.  She'll... whoa!"

Emily had already begun.  Tamara's pussy was wet with arousal, so
Emily's middle finger slid in easily.  So did her index finger.  The
tingle in Emily's pussy started to make her hips shake until they
settled into a grinding motion, but it was when her mouth found
Tamara's clit that the tactile sensation of pure need in her sex
started to cloud her mind.  She reached between her legs with her free
hand... and it stopped, grasping her thigh and going no further.

Tamara was nearing her first orgasm, and Emily was confused.  She kept
working on Tamara's cunt, but the closer Tamara got, the more Emily
needed to tend to her own fires--but try as she did, her hand would
not go near her pussy.  She even tried her other hand, to no avail.

When Emily felt Tamara's hands grab her hair and hold on tight, Emily
just relaxed and let Tamara take control of her head's motions. Tamara
rubbed Emily's face into her pussy, but somehow, Emily was still able
to finger her.  When Tamara came, she quickly (and raggedly) said,
"Look at Anita!"

Between her need to please Tamara and the maddening need that she
could not answer between her own legs, Emily was having a hard time
concentrating.  But, when Tamara turned Emily's head slightly, she
looked over and saw Anita--and what she saw shocked her:  Anita's legs
were draped over the sides of the chair, her shorts at the foot of the
recliner.  Her sex was covered only by a thin blue panty, but it was
clear that she'd sneaked her hand inside them and was massaging her
clit.  Her other hand was playing with her tits through her shirt.
Tamara turned Emily's head back to face her glistening folds again,
and Emily continued (and redoubled) her efforts, finally getting
Tamara off a few frantic minutes later.

Emily's face was smeared with Tamara's wetness.  She was glad she'd
gotten Tamara off, but she was starting to wonder how strong the
tingles between her legs could get before she went crazy; when Tamara
came on her face, Emily's pussy nearly exploded with unsatisfied need.
When Tamara let go of Emily's hair, Emily looked over at Anita, who
was furiously fingering herself beneath her panties.  Emily rested her
head on Tamara's crotch, as if she were afraid of letting it out of
her tongue's reach.

"Figure it out yet, Em?  No?  Well, let me demonstrate.  Whenever my
pussy feels good...," Tamara said, sliding back so Emily could sit up
and observe, "so does hers... and yours.  Watch," she whispered,
slowly sliding a finger into herself and closing her eyes as she began
to cum again.

A whimper from Anita signaled her climax, and she didn't stop
fingering herself until she shook with another orgasm--one that
clearly soaked her panties.  But Emily couldn't get her hands to where
they needed to be.  Gone were the tingles that had been teasing her;
now it felt vaguely like fingers and tongues tormenting her pussy,
telling her that she could cum if only she could touch herself.

"Damn... fuck, that's... unbelievable... Tammy, please, I need to... I
need..."

"Yes?" Tamara asked innocently.

"Let me... let me touch my... let me touch myself... I need to
cum...."

Tamara lurched forward, pushing a surprised Emily back onto the arm of
the couch.  She held her finger up to Emily's mouth and let her lick
it clean, and then used it to slowly trace a meandering line from her
mouth to her pussy.  Every inch of skin Tamara touched lit up with
sexual pleasure, and a rippling wave of arousal trailed the finger all
the way down to its target:  Emily's pussy.  And when Tamara's fingers
entered Emily, she came so hard she nearly passed out.  But, she
managed not to scream.  Keeping that scream inside took all of her
strength, but she didn't want to chance waking up Anita.

"This is our little secret, Emily," Tamara whispered to the panting,
recovering girl.  "You can't tell anyone, ever.  Now, I'm going to
bed.  Why don't you cover Anita back up, and join me.  Oh, and you can
touch yourself again."  Tamara got up and was going to go straight to
her room, but decided to watch Emily finger herself as she made her
way to the recliner where Anita lay masturbating.  It was such an
amusing and erotic sight that Tamara let one of her own fingers stir
her own sex.

Emily awkwardly threw the blanket over Anita with her free hand and
scurried back to Tamara, kissing her all the way to the bedroom. Emily
came when they finally got into the room--thanks to Tamara's well-
placed and surprisingly slippery finger gently probing about one
knuckle deep in her anus.  To both girls, the rest of the night was
something of a blur.  A nice, slightly drunk, insanely erotic blur. At
some point, Tamara's toys were brought out and lubed.  And by the time
they passed out, they weren't sure there was any sex act known to
mankind (or womankind) that as deprived and sexually uncontrolled as
what they'd just experienced.  Even so, they knew that if they only
had the energy, they would do it all night long.

The trio spent much of Sunday cruising around town and shopping, once
Anita's hangover faded.  She was at a loss to explain how she fell
asleep on the chair in the living room, but she seemed thankful that
someone covered her up.  Later that evening, Emily got a call. Her
friends who were in St. Louis had decided to leave earlier th an
expected and would pick her up Tuesday morning, cutting her visit one
night shorter than she had wanted.

All three ladies were pretty worn out that night and Emily was clearly
more tired than Tamara and Anita, so when Emily lay down on the couch,
Tamara told her to get some sleep--she'd need it for the day ahead.
She had to get a card signed by four professors, after all.  But,
Tamara *did* promise to give her a goodbye present she'd never forget
Monday night.  And judging by the look on Emily's face as her friends
(who arrived only two hours after she and Tamara had finally concluded
their night-long sex marathon) picked her up to take her back home to
Chicago, Tamara figured that she'd made good on her promise.

                          * * * * * * * * * *

"Fucking tax day," moaned Tamara when she saw the mass of people
standing in line in front of the large (and until tax season, mostly
empty) building that served as Jeff's photo studio.  Three tax firms
had set up temporary offices to assist the good people of central
Illinois in the tricky preparation of taxes that involved farm income
and deductions for things that would make an auditor's head hurt.

This, of course, meant that Tamara had to weave her way through lines
just to get in the door.  It didn't matter to most of the people in
the lines that she wasn't going into the building for taxes.  Some of
them were holding brief cases (and even shoe boxes) full of receipts
and forms and had been waiting for an hour, and they weren't about to
let a large-chested woman with raven black hair and a perfect face
through the line ahead of them.  All were equal on this day.
Beautiful, ugly, thin, fat, rich, poor, executives, and farmers--it
didn't matter to Uncle Sam.

Tamara actually heard one woman in her late 40's or early 50's near
the door say to her apparent husband, "Big-Tit Black Hair Barbie can
just wait with the rest of us." That remark dashed away the last of
Tamara's patience, and she decided that in order to get inside the
building before *next *tax day, she'd have to take matters into her
own hands.  Lightly and discretely touching the woman's neck, she
waited for her victim to melt with what had to be more arousal than
she'd felt for 20 years.

The woman's nipples popped visibly beneath her top, and when she
finally started to tremble a little, Tamara whispered to her, "Please
concentrate on getting your husband to fuck your brains out three
times a week, and move out of my way.  Oh, and I hear he likes blow
jobs first thing in the morning... every morning.  Wake him up with
them every day you can."  Tamara then broke contact, and the older
woman moved aside to "accidentally" brush her hand up against her
husband's crotch.  A few people in line noticed and a couple of them
even stared at the woman who was now openly rubbing her husband's
manhood through his jeans.  Tamara used this distraction to slip
inside the building, and she immediately went to the elevator and
pressed the button for the top floor.

Checking her compact mirror after everybody got off at the third floor
(the tax companies had set up shops on floors one, two, and three),
she tried to mentally prove for the millionth time what she already
knew to be true.  "Jeff better have a good explanation for the hair.
And the tits.  And my... damn, and my hands, mouth, pussy, pubic
hair... or lack thereof," she mumbled to herself, remembering that she
now had only a thin "landing strip" of hair above her snatch.

She didn't know how she was going to confront him, or if even if she
should; after all, if he was responsible for the changes in her body,
what else could he do to her?  And, why was she so damn sure it was
him in the first place?  That really bothered her more than the fact
that she only recently recognized the changes in her body as somehow
unnatural.  She pushed those thoughts to the back of her head as best
she could as the door opened and she stepped onto the top floor of the
building.

What she saw in front of the elevator doors both surprised her and
forced a few pieces of a puzzle she was barely aware of to suddenly
fall together:  Wendy.  *Wendy is part of this?  What the hell is
going on?*

Wendy looked pretty much the same as Tamara remembered from their last
gig together, although her breasts seemed a little bigger.  And while
she couldn't be sure, she didn't remember Wendy's hair being one
particular shade of red.  Before Tamara could say anything ("What are
you doing here, Jeff said this was a private meeting!" came to her
mind), Wendy did a turn and showed off her body, making sure to run
her hands through her hair.

"Don't you just love this shade!  It's natural, too.  I know you're
confused, but Jeff made everything make sense... Oh, and check this
out...," Wendy said, sliding her hand into her shorts.  Tamara was
going to ask her what she was doing, but she saw Wendy's hand moving
over her pussy through her shorts and felt a sharp tingling in her own
pussy.  Now that she knew what was going on, she thought it was a
curious sensation; it was a little like when Kristi fingered her, but
the feeling was a little more fuzzy and vague.  Whatever it was, it
made Tamara's pussy drip with arousal.

"So... that's what it... mmmmm, feels like...," Tamara whispered, not
meaning to say anything out loud at all.  She rocked her hips and
wiggled a little as the feeling grew.

Wendy just winked at her, and without withdrawing her hand from her
shorts, she said, "Yeah, that's what it feels like.  I've been
diddling myself in public for a few weeks, just to watch the girls
react.  This is going to be soooo fucking cool... mmmmmm, oh yeah,
Jeff's down the hall.  Go on, I'll join you all in little while."

Tamara had already started to carefully (as her pussy felt like it was
being tickled with hot, invisible feathers) walk past Wendy before she
noticed the "you all" part.  *'Join you all?'  What does she mean,
'you all?'  Jeff said he wanted me to come by myself... damn, speaking
of 'cum,' I wish Wendy would stop that... damn, I need to... uh, find
Kristi....*

When she opened the door to the studio that was at the end of the hall
that Wendy was "guarding," she saw Kristi.  She was sitting on a nice,
comfortable-looking chair, and on her lap was Julie, the girl with the
perfect breasts who had been with Tamara on her second modeling gig.
Julie's legs were spread wide and she reclined back onto Kristi, who
was busy working Julie's hairless pussy and clit. And judging by the
way Julie was moving and moaning, and by her own pussy's cries for
attention, Tamara had a feeling that Julie was about to get off.

"Alright, ladies, that'll do," a male voice that Tamara knew to be
Jeff's announced.

Immediately, Kristi's body lurched and spasmed so hard and intensely
that she threw the orgasming Julie from her lap onto the floor.
Tamara, who experienced a little orgasm herself, was going to ask if
Kristi was OK, but a quick look at the woman's sexually spent and
barely conscious face told her that her non-exclusive girlfriend had
just cum so hard that she probably wasn't really aware of the fact
that she'd just thrown Julie to the floor.  Julie, on the other hand,
rolled over to her back and seemed all too happy to be on the floor.
Idly, and with her eyes closed, she ran her hands over her body and
moaned softly.

"Oooooh.  Kristi, you must be more careful," Jeff said as he seemingly
appeared from out of nowhere.  "Since Julie is pretty much gone, why
don't you be a dear and fetch Wendy for me, OK?" Immediately, Kristi
came to her senses enough to scamper to the door in search of Wendy.

The studio space was fairly empty (even the privacy curtains for the
"changing rooms" had been taken down) and there was not really any
place where a person to hide, but Tamara could have sworn that Jeff
had not been just standing there a moment ago.  She was going to ask
him about that, and about everything else that had been happening that
she was sure he was responsible for, but he lifted his hand and she
could not speak.  When Kristi left the room, he walked over to where
two sofas were arranged on the far side of the room.  Tamara followed,
and took a seat after he did.  She hadn't seen the sofas either, but
of more concern was the fact that she was walking even though her mind
was ordering her legs to stand still.

"OK, Tammy.  I know you're pretty confused as to what's going on, even
though you've pretty much figured it out.  You were set to figure it
out once you realized how much you'd changed... to be honest, I was
starting to worry."

*Cryptic*, Tamara thought.  *Maybe this wasn't such a good idea....*

"Maybe it *wasn't *a good idea, but that's not important.  OK, where
to begin... yes, your body has changed--your tits are much larger and
your hair, once blonde and past the middle of your back, is black and
barely shoulder-length.  You can light the desires of any woman to
supernova level with a few touches, and when your vagina is even
slightly stimulated, other girls in the room seem to feel it.  Did I
leave anything out?"

A loud door slam startled Tamara, but she didn't turn around. Instead,
she said, "Well... there's the fact that if I kiss or... uhm, lick a
girl, she melts like butter.  And, a girl will do whatever I say, if I
whisper into her ear."

Jeff snapped his finger and nodded in concession.  Laughing a little,
he said, "Yep, you got me there.  Heh, the ol' mouth routine. One of
my first tricks, and an easy one to teach a girl.  Funny, I remembered
doing that to Wendy, Julie, and Kristi... but for some reason, I
forgot about you.  Amazing, seeing as how you've come so far."

"What do you mean, I've 'come so far?' And what the hell has been
going on?" Tamara yelled.  "Look at me!  I didn't used to have these
tits!  And my hair--how do you go from natural blond locks to short
black hair, without a single haircut or dye?!  I don't know how, but I
know you're... you're... ooooooh, behind..."  Tamara's voice died
down; with Wendy and Julie kissing opposite sides of her neck and her
shoulders, and Kristi whispering in her ear to calm down, Tamara's
fight dissolved into a puddle of mild concern, a strange curiosity,
and instant arousal.

"That's more like it.  Yes, I'm behind 'it.'  I've been...
*tinkering*... with you.  More accurately, I've been *preparing* you.
When I first saw you, I saw a lot of potential for my little business.
See, an old friend of mine told me that there were things that you
could do in California or New York that you couldn't get away with in
a wholesome place like... heh, guess which random Midwestern state he
mentioned."

"Mmmmm... Ill... Illinois...?" Tamara moaned.  Her tormentors had not
stopped their light oral caresses.

"Yes!  Illinois.  'You can't get away with it in Illinois,' he told
me, and then he offered my a huge chunk of his video distribution
business as a bet.  It's easier in California, you see.  For one
thing, you don't have to gradually change people--they come off the
bus from places like this, and they invariably end up in porn.  You
can literally take them aside after they've done a few low-budget
'amateur' videos, rework their body and attitude in a single
afternoon, and *boom!*  Instant starlet.  Nobody even asks questions
anymore.  Hell, so many women do it without our help, we don't even
have to worry about getting caught.

"Yeah, some of the bitches actually catch on to the fact that things
aren't on the up-and-up and go looking for guys who can do the stuff I
can do when one of their porno friends comes home one night with a
rack she didn't go to the set with.  But I faced a special challenge
here:  nice college girls don't choose a school in fucking
Springfield, Illinois so they can get boob jobs and go into porn. No,
here, I had to ease you all in, and do it under the radar so nobody
would notice what I was doing.  And here we are.  Ladies, leave her
alone for a few minutes.  We need to talk business.  Go entertain
yourselves."

The three girls left Tamara and Jeff to talk.  Jeff, though, seemed to
be done talking for the moment, so Tamara did the first thing that
came to mind:  she stood up and removed her clothes, and not in an
erotic manner either.  Then, she did a slow turn, and finally she sat
back down.  Interestingly, she was not at all concerned that she was
sitting naked in front of a man who had just told her that he had been
reworking her body.  But, that particular detail did bother her, so
she asked about it.

"OK, how did you do... this," she said, her hands holding up her tits,
"to me?"  The touch put her arousal into overdrive, but she mastered
it so she could talk.  "And... now that I think of it, why am I so
sure it's you in the first place?  Why do I believe you?  I'm taking
this pretty easy...."  Tamara trailed off, curious as to why she was
so indifferent to the idea of someone reshaping her from a stick-thin
girl into a wet dream.

"Well, I didn't want to take forever trying to prove to you that I can
do boob jobs with my mind, so I'm making you believe and accept it.
As for 'how,' though...," Jeff said, repeating her question as if he
wasn't quite sure she'd asked it.  "Weird.  Julie, Wendy, and Kristi
didn't ask about *how* I did it.  Then again, I was in their heads a
lot.  Well, 'how.'  Hmmmm... I guess I can't really explain *how* I do
what I do.  I just do it.  I reach out and change things. Playing with
your brain isn't as easy as it sounds, but it's nothing compared to
changing your body--much less doing so gradually.  But, controlling
minds is just something most of us porn mongers do. Hell, if it
weren't for some annoying regulations, we'd do it to *everybody *who
had any potential for looking good naked on camera.

"But that's beside the point.  The fact is this:  you're here, and my
little quartet is ready to start a revolution in porn.  See, you're
going to be a star.  I've created you for this.  You, Julie, Wendy,
and your special friend Kristi are going to star in a series of videos
in which you go around with a small camera crew--say, one or two
people--and seduce cute, straight  women.  What do you say?"

As Jeff said that, Kristi brought what appeared to be a multi-page
contract clamped to a clip board.  A pen dangling from a string was
attached to the clip board, and Kristi set it on the couch next to
Tamara.

"Well... wait a minute," Tamara said, trying to focus on what was
being suggested.  At the suggestion of seducing straight women, her
whole body perked up.  But, that could have also been due to the
action Julie and Wendy were enjoying off in some unlit part of the
loft.  *Then again... this does sound... intriguing.  I've done this
on my own a few times... and I've been naked and worse in front of the
camera several times.  Is there seriously anything to lose?  I'll
still have my business degree....*

*No.  I can't do this, it's crazy... but why do I want to?  Why am I
even considering this?*

"Look, Tammy.  I know it's a little strange to be a business student,
sign a contract to go into porn, and then graduate before making your
first movie.  But think.  You can always use your degree when our
contract is over in five years.  I can even give you a few physical
tweaks so nobody will recognize you.  In the meantime, you will make
shitloads of money--just look at that contract.  People pay top dollar
to see straight girls get bagged by lesbians.  With me around, you
will not ever have to worry about--"

"Wait.  If you can make people do whatever you want, why do you need
me?  And why do my hands... my mouth..." Tamara said, her speech
losing steam as she realized she didn't even know how to ask such an
insane question.  *Why don't I just ask why he gave me my 'magical
powers?' *she thought.

"I gave you your 'magical powers,'"  he said, answering her thought,
"because... well, let's just say that real is always better than fake,
and it's easy to give someone some limited mind control power, as long
as you keep it simple and don't allow them to turn it on, off, or
target it.  With your 'powers' always on and begging to be used, you
got to practice your... uhm, *technique*... on any pretty thing that
caught your eye, so you're *really *experienced in the sack.

"Hell, that's even the reason why I changed you and the girls so
slowly, even though I was more direct with the others.  You *grew*
into your looks and attitudes toward sex; they weren't just forced on
you all at once.  It's natural now, *real*.  You don't have to act.
Don't get me started on porn star acting... damn, you'd think there
were some things mind controllers could fix!

"Besides, I didn't want to *make* you like being in porn.  It's much
better for everybody when you actually love it, which you do.  You
never hesitated to sign on for another shoot, no matter how hard-core
it got.  In fact, the only thing I'm doing now is keeping you here
until you decide, and keeping you calm.  You actually find this
proposal so intriguing that you're considering going along with it."

Tamara was now reading the contract.  She held the pen in one hand,
amazed she was about to throw away her quiet, respectable life for a
career in porn, albeit a brief one.  But before she signed, she said,
"Can I ask you a question?"

"Shoot," Jeff said.

"What if I refuse?"

"Then I restore your body to what it was, and change you from lesbian
to straight."

That prospect chilled Tamara to the bone--she loved her new body but
could live without it.  *But life as a straight woman?  No fucking
way....*

"OK... but if you can control my mind, why are you letting me read
this?  Why haven't I just signed this and started fucking your brains
out or something?"

"To the first part, it's all about regulations," Jeff said.  "There
are people who watch what we pornographers do, and there are even
worse people watching what us mind controllers do.  So, we have to be
careful not to do anything to draw much ire from group *B*, because
they'll draw the attention of group *A*, and group *D* to get
involved... and that's *BAD*.  This is your decision, believe it or
not.  I already have a warning on my record, so I can do only so much
to persuade you.

"As to why you're not fucking my brains out--well, you're a lesbian. I
don't fuck lesbians, 'cause they don't fuck me.  I have no problems
getting women to fuck me anyway."

"Fair enough," Tamara said, shaking (in excitement or nervousness; she
wasn't sure which) as she signed the dotted line.  *He could still
make me do it, even if I didn't want to... might as well make the best
of it... and it does sound fun... and it could be much worse,* she
thought.  "Five years.  But, I'm not just signing this for the money,
or for the short term aspect of the job."

"Let me guess--you want to get some straight girls into bed with you,
right?  That is already being arranged; we're going to get you a
girlfriend but your first meeting will be a re-enact--"

"Well, that's part of it," Tamara interrupted.  "But mainly, because I
think you could just make me do this anyway.  Also, because I want to
do this as a thank-you."

"What, for the tits?"

"No, not for the tits.  Well, not *just* for the tits--I love them.
But, it's a thank-you for not making me straight.  I don't want to be
straight, and I know you could have made tons of money with a  girl
who did guys."

Jeff took the clipboard and smiled.  "Making sure you stayed a lesbian
was my primary concern, Tamara.  And welcome to the group." Tamara saw
something strange in that smile, as if he knew something she didn't,
but it faded and she let it go.  "Now," Jeff added, "it's time to get
you your first girlfriend.  I'm trying to work the word 'girlfriend'
into the title, like 'Straight Girlfriends' or something.  We're going
to re-enact a little meeting between you and that delicious Anita
chick I set you up with...."

"Actually, I have someone else in mind," Tamara said.  "Anita's not
like that, and I don't want--"

"Really," Jeff interrupted, suddenly interested.  "She should be 'like
that' by now, thanks to you.  Are you're sure you don't want Anita?  I
mean, wow.  She's hot, and I had you set up to go after any girl you
liked, if you had an opportunity... and Anita was primed to give you
some opportunities!  Shit, I guess I could have kept a closer eye on
your heads.  By now, I expected you two to be an item, girlfriends
with a very healthy sex life."

"Actually," Tamara said, "Kristi's been doing good in that department.
But there is one special girl.  My first, in a way.  But not Anita--I
just want to be her friend."

Jeff's expression was priceless; saying it was one of surprise would
have been an understatement worthy of criminal prosecution.  "Well,
that's... damn.  I never expected to hear that.  I was about to have
some cameras set up in your apartment to capture the action.  That's
what I get for being too subtle and not checking up on things."

"You haven't asked me about the one I *do* have in mind," Tamara said,
smirking.  She and Jeff then began planning her first porn scene for
the American market, but halfway through, they both realized that she
didn't have a proper name.  That was fixed soon enough, though, and
the impromptu planning session went forward.

                          * * * * * * * * * *

Nervously, a girl with scarlet hair and dark eyeshadow glanced around
the library.  She spent most of her time in the stacks, and much of
that time was waiting for something to happen.  The goth coed spotted
a woman with light brown hair wearing sweat pants, and waited to make
eye contact.  Then she turned around, deliberately dropping her pen
and bending at the waist to pick it up.  She knew that her leather
mini would not completely cover her crotch, and that her panties--
tightly encasing her sex--would be clearly visible, if the girl cared
to look.

But she didn't.  In fact, she went to the next row.  *Not even the
right color sweat pants*, she thought.  *Way to go, Tina.  She
probably thinks you're a dyke... well, maybe she's half-right...,* she
thought.  Inside, she knew it was not likely that she'd be able to get
that one girl, the one who she only met once and never saw again, to
rape her like she did that one day.  The odds against it were
astronomical, but that didn't stop her from trying three or four (and
sometimes five) times a week.

On reflection, she knew that "rape" was probably too strong a word,
but the roughness of the encounter (that she had begged for) didn't
lend itself to any other word easily. For some reason, just letting go
and allowing herself to go along with whatever her "attacker" wanted.
In all her trysts since she was practically raped in the secluded
aisles of books, she'd had her share men and women, but none who could
muster the intensity and control over her that she'd craved since that
one fingerbang she received from a cute girl in sweat pants with
dirty-blonde hair.  Even if they were capable of causing her the pain
she desired, it was never as sweetly hot as it was with a girl she
only knew as "Tammy."

Memories of that day started to flow in her head, as they often did
when she was trying to seduce someone into a rough afternoon of sex.
Before she realized it, tiny tingles tickled Tina's twat, and she
briefly considered making her way to the restroom to answer the need
between her legs that was growing second by second.  It wasn't a
serious idea, but before long, she wished she'd actually followed
through with the plan.  The itch was undeniable and clearly getting
stronger.  Soon, she found it hard to walk, and she stopped right at
the middle of the long bookshelf, holding it for support.

An eerie feeling washed over her--the feeling she always got when
someone was watching her.  She knew she probably looked like she was
sick, so she tried to straight up and walk, but at that moment a dull
aching desire exploded from her pussy and spread over her chest and
face, making her blush and sweat.  Her panties soaked, she leaned
forward and knocked some books off the shelf.  She picked them up but
before she could put them back on the shelf, two hands wrapped around
her body, just under her halter top, and came to rest on her belly.

The sensation of warm jolts of pleasure that almost hummed from the
hands was unmistakable; even though it'd been months since she'd felt
those hands playing on her flesh, she knew exactly to whom they
belonged.  Tina dropped the books, fell back into Tamara's arms, and
presented her neck, hoping for a not-so-playful bite.  When it came,
Tina whispered, "Harder, haaarder... leave a fuckin' mark... god
damn...," barely able to control her voice.

"Remember me?" came the whisper like no other.  Sex leaked into Tina's
head from the ear that picked up the words.  Tamara looked at the
bright red teeth marks she'd just left--she hadn't meant to clamp down
so hard, but Tina's words--and her very body language--seemed to
demand a long, hard bite.

"Yessssssssssss...," Tina hissed.  "Please... do what you... did...."

"Oh, we're going to do more than that, honey.  The library's empty--I
made sure of that.  It's just you, me, and my friend Kristi here with
the camera.  You don't mind helping me make a little video, do you?
No, you don't.  Of course not.  You'll even get a tape you can show
somebody, and maybe then they'll give you what you need," Tamara said
quietly into the girl's ear.

Tina didn't ask how Tamara knew about what she'd tried to get from the
people she'd been with since her last time with Tamara.  It didn't
matter.  Everything she'd been fantasizing about was right here,
holding her.  She could even feel Tamara's full breasts pressing into
her back, and this time she was going to do more than finger her.

As quickly as she could, Tina spun around and grabbed two fistfuls of
black hair.  She stopped for a second.  *Wasn't Tammy's hair dirty
blond, or something?  Well, so what--it's not like I was born with
bright red hair.*    Mentally shrugging at the hair color change, and
knowing that she looked now into the face of her sexual tormentor for
the first time, Tina leaned in and kissed Tamara.  Hard.  *Very* hard.
Before it was over, Tina had cum from Tamara's almost magical oral
talents... and Tina bit Tamara's lower lip and held on to it with her
teeth as she pulled away, giving Tamara her best "I like it rough"
look.

*If she doesn't get that hint, then maybe I was mist... ooooooooh,
fuck, damn, that's it,* Tina thought  as Tamara's hands went under her
shirt, found her nipples (Tina rarely wore bras since the day that
changed her from a calm goth student into a mild nymphomaniac with a
taste for hard sex), and twisted them hard.  A tear slid down Tina's
cheek as she came again.

"If you let go of my hair, I'll even use my tongue on you this time,"
Tamara told Tina, who had not yet let go.  Tina let go of her hair,
but not before knocking Tamara down to the ground and mounting her.
Tamara, surprised, tried to sit up, but that only allowed Tina to
quickly pull her shirt off.  With that done, Tina slid up from
Tamara's hips to her stomach to prevent her from sitting up again.
Then, she practically tore her own shirt off.

After a brief groping session and some more kissing, Tina turned
around and focused her attention on Tamara's blue jeans, never giving
Tamara a chance to get up.  They were practically painted on, but
thankfully for Tina, the jeans were button-fly and somewhat easy to
start to remove.  She licked her lips when she saw that Tamara was not
wearing panties.  The only a thing beneath those pants was a thin
strip of pubic hair and a delicious looking pussy.

Tamara reached up and unzipped the leather mini, and Tina stood up so
she could take off Tamara's shoes and allow her glorified loincloth to
fall to the floor.  She kicked it and her panties off and got back
down on her knees, positioning her wet cunt over Tamara's face.  She
had worked Tamara's pants down to her knees when she first felt
Tamara's mouth and tongue start kissing and licking her nether region,
and she gave up on the struggle with the tight jeans, opting instead
to dive mouth-first onto Tamara's slit.

Tamara kicked her legs to work the pants down while slowly licking
Tina's inner thighs and outer pussy.  A few times, she'd spank Tina
hard enough to leave her ass red.  She guessed that it was working for
Tina, as every slap drove her to eat her out more and more
frantically.  Tina clearly had some practice, and she brought Tamara
off with little trouble.

But Tina was having trouble getting off.  The hands that beat raw heat
into her bottom contrasted nicely with the soft, wet pleasure that
bathed the skin that was painfully close to her cunt.  And, the
tingling from before had returned with a vengeance.  When Tamara
finally worked her jeans off, Tina grasped each leg and held them open
to give her better access to Tamara's pussy.  The harder she worked on
Tamara's sex, the more the odd sensation in her own grew--and she
hoped that Tamara would not tease her much longer, or she'd just have
to grind her pussy into the pretty girl's little face.

Then several things happened in Tina's crotch at once.  First, a
finger slid over and lightly rested on her asshole.  Another finger
slid down and plunged into her cunt.  And finally, Tamara's lips
kissed and then sucked Tina's clit.  The orgasm was instantaneous,
intense, and wet, but Tamara was far from done.  Another finger went
into her pussy.  And another.  Tamara rubbed her brown eye and fucked
her pussy with three fingers while sucking on Tina's clit, and Tina
was so awash with pleasure that she could scarcely control herself--
she focused all her attention on keeping her ass right where it was.

"More!  Use more fingers... fuck, yeah, fuck my tight cunt... fuck!!"
Tina yelled, taking her mouth off of Tamara's sex.  Another finger was
added, and she felt full--the four fingers stretched her in a
deliciously painful way, and she started to moan and scream as another
orgasm approached.  She didn't notice Tamara removing her finger from
her asshole, but she sure noticed when it was replaced--wet and ready
to penetrate her tightest hole.

And when it did, she saw stars.  It was the release she needed. Once
she stopped screaming and thrashing her head around, she got back to
business and slid a finger into Tamara.  She found Tamara's G-spot
after a few moments and used a trick another girl had taught her.
When Tamara responded by cumming all over Tina's hand, Tamara
suggested another position.

The sex lasted for over two hours.  Tina caught a glimpse of the girl
who she knew must have been  Kristi a few times, but paid her no mind.
After about a half-dozen positions, some of which made her legs hurt,
the two lovers just lay on the floor amid the books, kissing and
almost cuddling.  Tamara's enhanced libido was sated, and Tina was a
little sore--but she wouldn't have it any other way. After a brief
conversation with Tamara and Kristi, Tina agreed that it was OK to
sign consent to allow her "scene" to be put in a sort-of "girls gone
crazy" type of video.  And this time, Tina finally got to formally
introduce herself to the woman who had just fucked her three ways from
Sunday.

"OK, I'll sign the consent form... hell, with you two whispering in my
ear and necking with me while you explain it, how can I refuse? Oh...
and my name's Tina Brown.  I don't remember your name," she said,
debating on whether or not to shake her hand.  It seemed too formal
after what they'd just done.

"No, you don't know my name, but you clearly remember me.  I'm Tammy,
but my friends call me Tamara."

"OK... uh, 'Tamara?'  Isn't that *long* for 'Tammy?  Is it a stage
name?"  Tina was curious about the reverse nickname.

Tamara smiled.  "Yeah, something like that.  Just remember the name
Tamara Divine.  You were my first," she said, and as she and Kristi
left, she added, "and baby, I'll always, *always* remember you,
honey."

Tina, alone in the library, suddenly realized that the library should
be full of people.  Well sexed and a little creeped out by the fact
that the library was abandoned for no apparent reason (even the
librarian was missing), Tina got dressed walked out of the building
and to her dorm.  On the way, she met a man who suggested that she
would do well to dye her hair black and remove her lip piercing so few
people would recognize her from the video.  He was right, and she knew
it as soon as he made the suggestion.  Tina loved her red hair, but
black matched her wardrobe just as well.  She shook his hand, kissed
him, and went to the store to buy the dye.

                          * * * * * * * * * *

*There's shit on TV tonight*, Tina thought as she scanned through the
channels after she put her five-year-old son to bed.  Her husband was
going to be home soon, and his sister was even going to come over and
stay the night--that meant she and Kevin could go out.  That was rare
after the kid was born.  Then, while scanning the news channels, she
saw a face she could never forget.  It was Tamara's.

The famous Tamara Divine was giving an interview on a mainstream cable
news network about how she broke into porn, and she recounted the tale
(censoring the fun bits, of course) of the cute goth girl who was her
first not once, but twice, in a library somewhere in Illinois.  The
rest of the interview was as awkward as you'd expect for a mainstream,
respectable man's interview of a woman who fucks other women on camera
for money.

Topics such as the rarely seen public acceptance of a porn star as a
genuine celebrity, her legal battle to have her marriage to long-time
lover Anita Divine recognized in her home state (she even promised to
go further into *that* little love story on her next appearance on the
show next month), and her opinion on if porn degraded women or not
were brought up by the host in an effort to make it something other
than a "Hey look, we have a porn star on our program!" show. When the
boring anchorman finally ran out of things to ask about, he signed
off.

Tamara, almost on cue, added, "And this one is for you, Tina. Thanks
for the memories."  Then she blew a kiss to the camera. Tina's jaw
dropped.  *I bet every woman named Tina just got wet*, she thought.

The two-time lovers had managed to email each other every now and then
to keep in touch, but she couldn't remember Tamara mentioning any
upcoming interviews.  A few seconds after the public shout-out, Tina
laughed softly and shook her head in disbelief.  That little bit of
public gratitude put her in a playful mood, and she decided that she
would pick up a couple of college girls to share with Kevin for the
evening.  He'd been working a lot of overtime, and college girls were
one of those few things they could both enjoy doing together.

Right before she made up her mind on which motel to take them to,
Jennifer, Kevin's sister, arrived to watch  Kevin Jr. overnight. Using
her key to get in the apartment, like she usually did, Jennifer walked
into the living room wearing painted-on jeans and a tight camisole
that managed to make her smallish tits look a little larger than they
really were... and her nipples were clearly hard beneath the thin
fabric.  Maybe it was because of the cold outside, but Tina didn't
care.

*I'll start with an appetizer*, Tina mused as she reached for her
sister-in-law's body.  *Kevin won't know... I'll be done before he
gets back.  I always am.*  She knew how her very touch was enough to
melt any woman's inhibitions.  A few softly whispered commands later,
Jennifer was naked and in Tina's and Kevin's bedroom, ready to serve
her secret Mistress.  Tina kissed her sister-in-law, and when her
enchanted mouth and tongue drove Jennifer to her first climax of the
evening, she wondered if she should take Tamara up on the message
she'd sent a month ago--the message in which she said that she wanted
to meet somewhere and catch up on life, sex, and everything.

Riding Jennifer's face, Tina decided she would take Tamara up on the
offer.  *After all, *she thought, *Tamara will be putty in my hands;
and if that's not enough, I can kiss and whisper her into submission,
like I did with Jennifer here.  Fuck it... I'll email her tomorrow.*

*I wonder if she knows what's going to hit her.*

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(c) 2005, bobwhite.  All rights reserved.  All wrongs also reserved.