A/N: Dear OP of this prompt: So happy you found the story and that you enjoyed it! To everyone else... Glad you liked it, too! :D And now for your last installment. :)

"The dresser," Santana muttered, walking forward with Brittany still in her arms, stopping when the tops of Brittany's thighs met the hard wood surface of her bedroom dresser.

Snaking a hand up the blonde's back she pushed gently until Brittany was bent over it, her breasts pooling against the smooth surface. Santana curved herself along Brittany's back, her own chest pressed firmly against it as her hands reached to stroke the sides of her girlfriend's breasts. Brittany mewled, crying out softly in reaction to the feather light touch.

With one hand Santana moved Brittany's hair off to the side of her neck, laying soft kisses on the exposed skin, while the other trailed down her spine and over the curve of her ass. She parted her own legs slightly before reaching between Brittany's, the taller girl automatically shifting her stance so as to give Santana better access.

With her legs placed further apart, Santana could easily fit a hand between them, her fingers stroking up and down slick wetness, coating themselves in Brittany's fluids. Lightly massaging her girlfriend's outer folds between her thumb and curled index finger, Santana let out a moan.

Almost nothing turned her on more than knowing Brittany was ready for her, that the blonde was anticipating her every move.

"Santana, you're mean, you know that?" Brittany said breathily, her rhetorical question only heightening Santana's arousal.

"Mean to you? Never. How could my hands on you ever be mean?"

She planted her kisses along Brittany's neck and the tops of her shoulder more firmly, lightly sucking at her pulse point when she ran across it as her mouth roamed. Fingers traced Brittany's entrance, delighting in the moistness found there and the ease in which they moved through the folds, the heat of Brittany's center almost burning her. She near thrust in at that exact moment, her desire to be inside her girlfriend increasing the longer she made her wait.

"San, please," Brittany begged, her voice barely audible through her light pants.

"Say it," Santana whispered, edging her finger tips closer to Brittany's opening before darting them away, drawing them up her folds and just barely grazing her clit. Brittany gasped, her hips jerking back against Santana.

"I'm yours."

As soon as the words left Brittany's mouth, Santana gave in willingly, plunging digits inside. She loved this, loved being able to be the primary reason for every good feeling Brittany could possibly experience.

Gasping at the sudden intrusion, Brittany jutted her hips back and then rocked forward into the dresser, hitting the top of her slit against the edge.

"God, you feel so good," Brittany groaned as Santana moved her fingers with expert timing, happily making Brittany squirm and grind into the dresser.

"You're so fucking hot, I love being inside of you, my fingers deep..." Santana breathed between kisses, now harder than before.

Brittany let out a groan and Santana worked her fingers faster, and bucked her hips experimentally. The sudden intake of breath from Brittany and the tightening around her fingers let her know it was okay, and she did it again, pressing Brittany's sex against the hard wood again.

"Oh god, god, Santana... That, do that," Brittany whined, her hips moving from side to side slightly as she squared up her stance.

Once she was more stable, Santana bucked again, thrusting her fingers in deeper and retracting them as she let Brittany's hips rebound off the edge of the dresser. Before the next charge of her pelvis, she paused to open the blonde's folds further, exposing her clit to the mahogany, a more direct way to stimulate the sensitive bundle of nerves. Again she sent Brittany forward, and Brittany cried out sharply.

The pair were lucky that the dresser was already backed against a wall as they continued on, Santana's hips sending Brittany's colliding into it at a fevered pace, both gasping and moaning at their newfound position.

Glancing up at the mirror attached to the piece of furniture they were using as a sexual device, Santana did a full body shudder. Good lord, was her girlfriend perfect, mouth hanging slightly agape and entire body flushed. She nibbled on the outer shell of Brittany's ear, the entire time watching them in the mirror, bodies rocking in perfect sync with each other.

"Slow down," Santana said quietly, her unoccupied hand flattening across the blonde's stomach, urging her to take it down a notch. Brittany went with it, breathing hard and whimpering lowly, her body flinching.

Santana set their pace again, pressing Brittany into the dresser and then slowly rotating her hips, rubbing the blonde's sex against it at a torpid speed. Brittany's head fell back onto Santana's shoulder, but Santana shook her head, nudging her cheek with her nose.

Brittany did as she said, watching her own breasts bob and jiggle as Santana moved her pelvis in agonizing circles. Her eyes trailed up to see Santana's face, eyes hooded with lust and a lazy smirk on her face. She leaned in to whisper into Brittany's ear, Brittany's breath catching slightly, her eyes locked with Santana's in the mirror.

"Have you ever seen anything more gorgeous?" Santana asked in a soft voice, her tone loving and slightly proud. Her fingers were still working themselves in and out of Brittany's body, but at the sight of her exposed clit in the mirror, Santana sank the hand on Brittany's stomach lower, pressing the pad of her index finger to the nub.

Brittany let out a low moan, her eyes closing. Santana took it away, lifting her finger off of the bundle, nodding towards the mirror again.

"No, look. Look at yourself. You're so beautiful, do you see that?" she husked, ghosting soft kisses down Brittany's jaw.

Brittany looked, but saw nothing but Santana, her sleek form molding against hers, hair tossed over her shoulders and Brittany's alike, her face confident and full of pride as she overlooked their reflections, obviously enjoying the view. Santana's grace and prowess were all she could see in that mirror, and the love reflected in her eyes almost made Brittany tear up.

"You're beautiful," she murmered back, turning her face to meet Santana's and kissing her tenderly, drawing her into a disarmingly deep and sweet lip lock.

They went on like that for awhile, Santana slowly rotating their hips as one body, thumping against Brittany's clit with one hand while the fingers on the other probed inside of her deeply. Santana kept her eyes trained on Brittany's in the mirror the entire time, bringing her girlfriend to a creeping climax.

When she came it wasn't loud or hurried, but soft and calm, her body shuddering gently. She reclined against Santana's chest, her head lolling against her shoulder. Santana delivered chaste kisses as she came down, and once Brittany had rode out her orgasm, led her to the bed and flopped down, spent.

"That was amazing," Brittany whispered, snuggling against Santana, the brunette's back against her chest. Santana nodded and swallowed hard, her eyes closing sleepily.

She was kept awake by Brittany reaching around her waist, wading just inside of her body, two fingers together and moving effortlessly over the smooth stretch of muscle. She was very carefully avoiding Santana's clit, much to the brunette's relief, still aching at her core from earlier.

Besides, Santana understood this was hardly sexual at this point, both of them too exhausted to continue on, but rather a display of intimacy, Brittany feeling her and enjoying being this close to her girlfriend. Both of them found the fluid strokes relaxing, and Brittany hummed happily into Santana's neck, laying sweet kisses along her jugular, her movements growing more languid as they both became drowsier.

"I love you, Britt," Santana said softly, her voice heavy.

"I love you, too," the blonde replied, kissing the back of Santana's head gently. "More often."

Santana chuckled, knowing exactly what Brittany meant in her post-sex haze.

Eventually Santana drifted off first, Brittany's hand still between her legs. Santana shifted slightly closer in her sleep, causing Brittany to sigh happily, a sleepy smile on her face.

"I win."


zoek een woord op, zoals donkey punch:
A promiscuous vixen that enjoys regularly partaking in the activity of sexual intercourse.
However, she will insist that you plough into her poo pipe in prefence.

A very dirty young girl.
Andy: Hey babe, can i give you a test drive? Always try before you buy.
P.P (poo pipe princess): Hellyeah, but remember: Up the back door, or not at all.
Andy: Sure, why not.
door j7x 13 januari 2008


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College Dudes – Adam Busts A Nut

Adam Campbell showed up during the holidays to find a big surprise under the tree! Although Adam was not too excited about getting a dildo at first, he warmed up to it – quite a bit – as he experimented for the first time with a nice toy up his ass. Adam has a really tight ass, so it took a while for him to work it in, but after he did he was riding it like no tomorrow! Even though he said the feeling was a little strange, he must have loved it, because his cumshot was the biggest load we have witnessed to date! Enjoy Adam squirm and moan to a nice thick one! More…

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My Big Brother!(PART ONE)

2010-11-26

My Big Brother!

NOTE: This story is a work of pure fiction, protected by the 1st Amendment to the Constitution of the United States of America. It should not be taken as an endorsement of any acts or attitudes portrayed herein, or an encouragement to take said acts from the fictional realm to the real world. The author does not in any way support or espouse unlawful acts in real life.

It was a pleasantly warm summer afternoon in our big rambling farm house where I grew up, and as it was a Saturday and mom and dad had driven into town for groceries and a visit to the hardware store, I was alone in the house with my big brother, Daniel. Of course he liked "Dan" and equally or course, my mom always called him "Danny". I had been goofing around out in the big front yard by our dirt road driveway, enjoying the way the sunlight treated the short, pale blue cotton sundress I was wearing, and how the gentle summer breeze felt against my legs. Butnow having grown quite bored, I had come indoors to see what my brother was up to.

I didn't find him in the kitchen and had not seen him in the barn (which was now a work shop for my dad) so I decided to see if he was up in his room. The sun-drenched earth had felt warm and wonderful beneath my bare feet, and now I looked down at them as I quietly climbed the old wooden stairs which led up to the bedrooms. The bare wood felt old, if that was a possible way for something to feel, and warm from the summer air in the house. I continued up, the usual boards squeaking slightly at my little weight. I was a petite girl, and only just beginning to come into my own. As I mounted the top landing at the head of the staircase I turned right and headed for the small corner bedroom, which was my brother's. I had the twin to it on the other side of the house, while my parents shared the biggest one on the back side of the house. His door was ajar, and though he was not really making any discernable noise, I could tell he was in there. I eased his door open and stepped through, and then I saw him.

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  He was laying on his bed, on his side with his back to the door. And he was quite naked. I took in the sight of his lean, fit, muscular body. . . those strong shoulders and back, made fit by the work he did around our place. Even his buttocks were tight and fit, though I thought of it as his "butt".

He was napping, I could tell from his even breathing. His bedroom windows were open wide, the wooden sash on both slid all the way up, and the air felt good as it moved through the room. My brother stirred a bit in his sleep and then rolled over toward me, changing position in his sleep so he lay now on his back. He stretched out, one leg straight and the other crooked slightly at the knee. He was now displayed fully before me, and he had a full, firm erection. I of course thought of it as a "boner". Now naturally we had grown up together seeing each other naked all our lives. I mean, what siblings don't!Playing in the sprinkler as children, going in skinny dipping in the summer time, or just frolicking naked and natural in the open fields around the house, the sight of his body was nothing surprising to me.

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  However, seeing his organ standing firm and proud like that was a rarity, and I could not take my young eyes off of him!

Only last week I'd discovered my big brother out behind the old barn, his pants down around his ankles and him gripping that hardness in his fist and pumping it up and down, back and forth. I had crouched behind a wood pile and spied at him, peeking between a chunk of wood and the corner of the building. He had done it slowly at first, but then faster and faster until after a couple of minutes he has leaned against the barn and thrown his head back, and groaned and said "oh sit, hit yes!" as white stuff had shot out of it. I watched until he had finished - what ever it was he was doing - and started to pull his jeans up. I crept away silently to the housie, and went up to my room full of questions and confusion. Closing the door, I went to my bed and lay down. 'What in the world could feel so good that it made you do that and make groaning sounds as it hurt?'I wondered, in my young innocent mind. Puzzled, I snaked a hand tentatively down into my panties, and began feeling around and experimenting. And suddenly I remember finding this one spot that felt really really good, and which once stimulated with a pink little fingertip, demanded more!I had stumbled on to the existence of y clit, and I wasted no time in finding out just what it was capable of making me feel like. I discovered how using different fingers and touching it in different ways, all felt wonderful and that I could simply run it up and down, or in circles, or side to side really fast and they all drove me crazy with wonder and pleasure!In fact it felt so good that it occurred to me it must be wrong to do, but if that was the case my brother wouldn't have been doing it. . . he wouldn't knowingly do something wrong. The little slit between the sensitive lips down there got wet, and I loved the way that smelled on my fingers. I kept going further and further, until suddenly the most incredible, never before felt tingling and burning sensation came over me down there.

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In a few moments, that feeling spread all over my body until my budding little breasts were hard and ached against the fabric of my T-shirt, and my toes were tingling and curling. I looked down at my toes and saw that my legs were stiff out straight and the muscles tensed as I began to shake and shudder all over. The feeling was incredible, and I got warm allover as the shuddering stopped and my legs and little bare toes relaxed. I felt spent, tired but in the most wonderful way!I had discovered and experienced my first pubescent orgasm. And though I had no idea what it was called, I understood why y brother had acted the way he did!I loved it, and knew I would be doing THAT a lot more in the future.

But now, in my brother's bedroom, I moved closer to the bed until I was standing right against the mattress. My bare feet, brown and dusty on the soles from playing outside, made no sound as I approached the place where he lay, now only an arm's length away. As the breeze went across him, his erection stiffened at the invisible caress and as it did so he stirred, sleepily opened his eyes and looked at me. He stretched and took in the fact of his blatant nudity and hardness, which I was still staring at, and said, "hi squirt! Whatcha doing in here?"Looking at his curious little sister, he made no move to cover himself, rather he reached down and casually took hold of his firmness and began slowly moving his closed fist up and down the length of the thing. He made a small sound as if it felt good. I said, "I saw you ding that behind the barn last week. "He stopped for a moment, and said "You did?You were peeking at me? "Concerned that he'd be mad or that I'd be in trouble, I nodded and said "Yeah. Did I do bad?"

He smiled and replied that no, I had not done bad, and that it was okay. I must have looked relieved because he laughed a little, and asked "so what did you think about it?"and then, looking down at his fist encircling his hardness now, "what do you think about this?"I looked at his slowly moving hand, then up into his clear blue eyes. "I think it's beautiful, and it looks like it feels really good.

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  " I said. And then, moved by an undeniable curiosity and sense of adventure, "can. . . . can I try it?" I asked. He grinned and released himself, allowing it to bob free, levitating there above his flat, muscular belly. He regarded me slightly, then replied "if you want to, sure. "I climbed p on his big comfy bed, and he looked at the brown, dusty bottoms of my bare feet. I curled up sitting just beside him, and tentatively reached out and softly took his already nicely developed manhood in my small hand. "Like this?" I enquired.

"Yes, that's good" he said, "but you can hold it tighter. Lots tighter. You won't hurt me. "He moaned with obvious pleasure as he watched the tendons in my wrist accept the strain as I tightened my grip upon him.

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  "Good" he said, "now move it up and down like I did". I began moving my fist as I had seen him doing the week before, and he said that I was doing just right. I beamed with pride that I'd got it right the first time!

"Like this Dan?" I asked as I worked him. "Yes" he said, "you're doing just perfect!Oh gawd sis that feels good. "He laid a hand on my bare leg, down below my knee. His hand was warm and it felt good to me as he moved it, petting me down my leg to the ankle then onto the top of my foot, giving it a squeeze and then sliding his hand back up to do it over again. He tarried there to play with my toes as I stroked him. I switched hands as my grip got tired, and he said "would you like to learn another way to make that feel wonderful for me?"Grinning, I said sure I would. He said, "now it might seem weird, but girls do it all the time. Mom does it for dad, and it's something you can do for like your boyfriends some day. "Intrigued, I begged him to tell me!"Climb in closer, bend down, and take it in your mouth. "

"What you've been doing is called 'jacking me off'. Now this is called 'giving head' he said, as he gently guided my face down to the end of him. As my lips touched the swollen, crimson 'head' of it, I felt his head against my face. "Now come on, open your cute mouth and suck it like a lolly!Close your lips tight around it, then suck as you pull your mouth up and down it" he instructed.

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  He thought my mouth was pretty!I was hesitant, but I loved and trusted my big brother so I did as he said and in a moment I tasted his salty skin. "Oh jeez Stephanie, that is just great. Now use your tongue to play with it and explore it as you go. "I breathed easily through my nose as I serviced him for the first time, my mouth giving up it's virginity eagerly as had my eyes last week, and my hands a few minutes ago. He was still petting my leg, but had moved above the knee and was touching me on the tender inside of my thigh, up near where I had discovered the special wonderful place to touch. He did not touch me there, but it was close.

Sliding my mouth off him on the next up-stroke, I asked "Um, is it gonna shoot the white stuff like when I saw you behind the barn?"He smiled, and said "you saw that, did ya?Well yes it will, but if you don't want that in your mouth yet, even though it's normal for girls to swallow it when it happens, I can warn you before and you can catch it with some tissue, if you want. "I said that yes I'd like to do that, and in preparation he reached back to a tissue box and grabbed out 4 or 5 sheets. Trusting my big brother that he'd let me know when it was time I resumed. . . what did he call it?Oh yeah, 'giving him head'. His shaft felt hot and solid in my mouth, and I liked it's salty taste. As he grew closer to his own impending climax, laying nude and unashamed there on his big soft bed with the summer breeze coming in the open windows and he petted her bake legs up almost to her virgin treasure as his little sister sucked eagerly at his painfully hard cock, he smiled and thought to himself. .

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  . 'life is good!'

He felt the telltale tingle in his balls, and said to her "Okay Steph, it's time. . here, take this and form a catcher in your hand and hold it against the end of it. I'm gonna shoot the white stuff now!Finish me off with your fist like before - jack me off, sis, jerk my cock until it happens" and he handed me the sheaf of soft white tissues. I did as he said, eager to please him and do it right!And so working his hardness with my one hand, he suddenly tensed and groaned and uttered "oh shit, oh damn Stephanie, shit yes don't stop. . . " and then I felt his hardness pulsing within my pumping fist as I felt a wet liquid heat in my other while he filled the wad of tissues I held for him to cum in. As the paper became more filled and sodden in my palm, I smelled it's fresh spunky aroma and it seemed to me a wild, and natural smell. Like the moist earth after a rain. And as he finished ejaculating into my hand and began to relax, he grinned up at me and told me what a wonderfully perfect job I had done. I was nearly bursting with pride and he gave a little squeeze to my leg where we was resting his warm strong hand, up high and close to where my legs joined at the special place. And I found myself wishing he'd move it just that extra couple of inches up to where I made myself shudder like that at night, when it was time for sleep.

He relaxed, and asked me to take the fouled wad of paper and go flush it for him.

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  I gladly complied, sliding off the bed and scampering out he door and across the hall to the upstairs bathroom we all shared. I did as he asked, and then crossed back to his room. He watched me walk back to the bed, moving aside and patting the mattress next to him in invitation to join him there again. I happily hopped back up, and stretched out next to his still naked body. After, it was a warm day and after what we'd just done, why bother to cover up?!Besides, there was no reason to. It's not like nudity and all that was somehow wrong, or shameful. I began to cuddle close, but then hesitated and moved back off the bed. Daniel looked at me questioningly, but I simply pulled my little blue sun dress up and off over my head, dropping in on the chair next to his bed, then shimmied out of my white cotton panties, adding them to the dress. I stood then for a moment, as nude and now comfortable as he was, then climbed back up and settled next to him, skin on skin as we lay in the afternoon warmth.

"Is this okay?" I asked, knowing what his answer would be. "Oh yes, squirt" he said, "it's more than okay!"and then, "you have a really pretty body, you know". I blushed slightly at his complement, as he continued "you're really growing up nicely". I snuggled closer, then said to him, "I know how good that felt for you, but no white stuff comes out when I do it". He asked, "You do that to yourself?Touch there and make yourself cum?"I giggled, and said "yeah. .

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  . is that what it's called? Cum?"

"Yes" he replied, "it's called make yourself cum, or when you do it it's called cumming. The stuff that comes out of me is also called cum sometimes, but it has other names too. "

"Like what?" I inquired, eagerly.

"Well, it's also called jizz or cream or spume, but the actual technical name is sperm"

Well" I said, "what ever it's called I like it when it shoots out of your cock!"now I knew what it was called. "and next time we do it, I'll try to eat it like you said. I'll swallow it. I promise!"

We relaxed there together for a while, side by side and enjoying the natural feeling of our shared nudity. "Is it. . . Steph, is it okay if I touch you a little?" he asked. I answered that of course it was okay, he could touch me however he wanted!He was y big brother after all, and I loved and trusted him. And besides, I still sort of wanted him to touch me - down there - if he would. He turned onto his side facing me, and I say his cock fall limp and relaxed across his thigh.

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  I though it looked beautiful!Slowly he reached over, and brushed the back of his hand against the side of the barely forming mound of my breast. Loving the touch, I responded and the little pink nose at the end of it stiffened at his touch. He continued to brush it, then turned his hand over and fully palmed my there, cupping my tender young mound. I took a breath, and made a yummy sound it felt so good!I wanted him to do more!Lots more. I put my slender army up over my head, and stretched my legs out straight and hard, and he took the invitation to lean over and put his lips to my breast. The ecstasy shot through me as he first kissed, then outright sucked on the pinkness there!I was reveling in the feeling of our bodies touching so intimately. "Do more" I whispered, "do more stuff to me!". He released his lips from off my nipple, and said "okay, I'll do stuff but if I go too far just say so and I'll stop".

But I said, "I don't ever want you to stop!"

He pleasured my breasts and nipples then, using his hands and fingers and lips and tongue. He cupped me there, and lightly pinched the pink nipples alternately kissing them or suckling them afterwards, or flicking them with his amazing tongue. The feelings were incredible!And in no time I felt the warm tingling feeling down between my legs. Without having to be told, I guess out of female human instinct, I slip my dusty bare feet apart on the bed, making a V of my legs as I opened them to him. I wanted him to touch me there!And I was not disappointed, for the wafting August afternoon breeze carried the scent of my arousal to him, and he immediately moved a hand, his warm strong irresistible hand, down my ribs, to my flat belly, and to where the light wisps of the lightest blond hair were starting to make their appearance. I waited breathlessly for what seemed forever, but finally I was rewarded with the fiery touch I craved, right there between my legs where I made myself cum!And I wanted him to do that for me, as I had just done for him.

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Born of Ashes Page 18

He placed a finger between her eyebrows. “Why so worried, chérie?”

She shook her head then laughed, that falling laughter of frustration. “I fear waking up bound again.”

“Oui. Of course you do. That will not go away very soon. So tell me, what more can I do to ease you?”

His smile was soft, almost teasing.

She should be thinking of him. After all, he had already given her two lovely light releases. “Kiss me,” she said.

He didn’t wait for further invitation but swept the few inches of his extraordinary height down to meet her lips. This time, he was not gentle and she leaned against him, against his hard chest, and slung an arm around his neck, across his thick glorious hair. She took what he gave and gave more in return until he released her with a groan.

He waved a hand. She wasn’t sure what he meant by it until he lifted her up on the table and instead of feeling wood beneath the thin silk of her underwear, she felt a soft fleece blanket. He was so damn thoughtful. Her heart began to hurt as she put her hands on his shoulders.

He looked down very low and eased her knees apart. The crook of his finger drifted over her clitoris. A gasp left her throat.

He met her gaze. “Your body, ma chérie, is a finely tuned, delicate instrument.” She kept gasping as he gazed into her eyes and continued that soft intimate drift.

His fingers spread and she felt a very strange movement then realized he’d folded off her underwear. She giggled then swallowed hard.

Fear began to move in a circle in her stomach, like a living creature that his touch, his nearness had awakened. Were they going to do this? Were they really going to make love?

She didn’t understand that small creature but the movements quickened and the creature began to swim up and up, paralyzing her stomach, her chest, her throat.

“Chérie, what is it? What is the matter?”

She shook her head and clutched at her throat. “I don’t know. I don’t know.” Strange tears burned her eyes.

He covered the hand over her throat. “Regarde-moi. Look at me.”

She fixed her gaze squarely on his but she couldn’t breathe.

He searched her eyes for a long moment. “I can feel your pulse racing.” He eased back from her. “I will stop.”

She gasped and shook her head. “No. This wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“I do not care what is right or fair. I worry only that you are in such sudden distress.”

Fiona forced herself to breathe, to move past the tightness around her throat, the grip of something like steel bands around her chest. She forced the creature back into her stomach but she could not make it stop moving in swift threatening circles.

She should leave, but she hated the idea of leaving like this. Something was very wrong with her. Something hadn’t worked right since she’d been rescued. Even after five months, she lived with such agony and fear.

Something had to give, had to change.

When he took another step back, and his gaze fell from hers, when she could feel not just his despair but his resolve as well, she thrust her arm forward and caught his neck at the nape. She would not let him go. “Enthrall me,” she cried.

“What? I do not understand.”

“Put me in thrall. I’ve heard tales of it. I know you can do it. All Militia Warriors enthrall the women they dance with and make love to at the Blood and Bite. Enthrall me.”

He shook his head. “Non. I will not take you like this.”

She understood what needed to happen next if they were to move forward. She understood the way the sun rose and set each day, the way the tide came in and went back out. She had to be enthralled. Her fears, not of her own making, wouldn’t allow her one more step with him.

Her resolve deepened and she let her arm fall away from his shoulder. She met his gaze in a hard stare and overlaid his mind with her thoughts. I have been held captive by a quiet monster and made to feel powerless. I know that I could not bear your weight on me without having those fears overpower the moment. But, Warrior Jean-Pierre, mon homme, who would be my breh, you must do this for me and for us.

I want your weight on me more than anything in the world. I want to be connected body and soul with you more than anything in the world, here and now, on this table from which you built this house. I beg of you to enthrall me and make me yours. Please.

The last word had resonance, and she watched him close his eyes and weave on his feet.

When he opened his eyes, she saw his new resolve and the creature fled to the darkest recess of her soul. His mind came to her through his gaze in waves of exquisite peace.

Jean-Pierre had bedded so very many women in this way, putting them in thrall and taking them into the red velvet booths at the Blood and Bite, the club designed especially for the warriors of Metro Phoenix Two.

But even as he felt Fiona begin to sink, as his vampire mind, that which was truly and purely vampire, began to send you will do my bidding thoughts over her mind, he knew this would be different from anything he had experienced before. And not just because of the breh-hedden.

Fiona was unlike any of the mortal women he had seduced. As he held her mind in a gentle seductive grasp, he felt her power. Waves pulsed toward him, over him, like fingertips exploring not just his mind but his body as well.

He was firm within his slacks, ready for her, ready to pleasure her. With a thought, he folded off his clothes, which brought a sharp cry from Fiona’s throat. Enthrallment didn’t mean a diminishing of experience, just an easing of fear.

He slid one hand to the back of her head and one behind her back as he laid her down on the soft dark blue blanket he had folded from his bed. He could not bear the thought of splinters in her ivory skin.

Her silver-blue eyes were glazed, her lips parted, her breaths coming once more in little pants, which swept her soft patisserie scent over him, which in turn was like a new set of fingers rubbing ever so lightly over his cock.

With great care he positioned her, lifting and adjusting until her hips were low on the table and he had arranged her legs carefully over his shoulders.

He trembled now, not from exertion, but because what he had wanted for so long, for five long months, was within a few inches from his tongue.

She had a perfect chestnut triangle of hair and as he sank to his knees, not caring that the cement floor was hard and cold against his skin, his lips finally met her lower lips. Her hands now pressed into his scalp as though urging him to go where he needed no urging to go.

He kissed her long and deep and made use of his tongue. How he had wanted to be here, to taste her, to feel her rippled flesh over his tongue.

Her hips rolled beneath him. He used his forearm over her hips to keep her seated. The heels of her feet pushed against the muscles of his back.

For him, a woman’s nest was a place to savor, to take his time, and for once she did not rush to a climax. He smiled and licked a long line from her sweet opening to the apex of her nest. Yes, for once she was in no hurry and he began to build her fire with each kiss and lick. One upon the next, he felt her urgency grow as well as the elegant flow of power that moved in waves over him now.

He groaned and, in response, his mind filled with her thoughts, Jean-Pierre, thank you, thank you. I feel so peaceful and your tongue and lips, like heaven.

He made love to her with his mouth and tongue for a long time, driving her to the edge, then pulling back until her heels pushed harder and harder into his back and her whimpers turned to cries.

Jean-Pierre, she cried out in his mind.

He pushed into her now, deep thrusts with his tongue. He shifted one hand to press on her nest, pushing and pressing. Her cries grew lower in timbre until she groaned and arched her back. He drove his tongue hard now, deep inside, faster and faster until she screamed. But on he pushed, so that he brought her again and again.

At last her hips settled. He kissed her very low once more, slowly and with reverence, savoring each delicate fold.

He rose up and saw that her eyes were still glazed, but in his mind, her thoughts were coherent. How you satisfy me. I have never felt like that before. Always, it’s a quick rush, and pleasant, but not like this … oh, Jean-Pierre.

He responded, Your power, Fiona. It is as though you possess my mind, as though you are inside my mind. It is so beautiful. And I feel your power in a flow of waves over my body. I have great need of you.

Her lips tried for a smile but enthrallment tended to keep the face very quiet. Then take me, chéri.

He carefully repositioned her legs, drawing them around his waist as he stood up. She locked her ankles.

He looked down and shuddered because he was so close to possessing her as he had wanted to, ached to, since Toulouse. Using his hand, he guided himself and began a gentle push. She was very tight and moaned at the presence of his cock.

He pushed a little more, and began to enter her, slowly, so slowly, savoring this first taking. She gave little cries and tugged on his arms, urging him on. He watched his long thick hardness begin to disappear into her body. He trembled now, the muscles of his arms shivering like a stallion ready to run.

He curled his buttocks and took her another inch. He rolled his hips and pushed from side to side.

She cried out and her hips arched off the table. Only then did he lift his gaze to her face and saw that tears trickled from her eyes. Only then did he realize his eyes were wet as well.

There was great beauty in making love.

Once more he looked down between them. The dark hair of his body now shielded their connection from sight. But he had to see more and he pulled back. His cock was wet so that when he pushed back in it was a smooth glide and he collapsed forward, catching himself with his hands on either side of her. His hips would not stop as he wished them to and he was hard, so very hard.

Fiona was lost, deep within her mind, because Jean-Pierre held her in this magical place. She was at the same time so at peace yet stimulated and alive as she had never been before. He was thrusting now, into her, and rubbing over a place inside her body that was bringing her such pleasure. She wished he would continue forever, thrusting and driving.

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House Perks Ch. 02

"Thank you again, novio. Your cum is delicious, you know. I hope that you've regained your balance. You don't need to have vertigo right before a date. You also don't need to be too horny, which is another good reason that I'm glad I gave you some head. A Congressman with a boner on a lunch date would be embarrassed, I imagine. I would think I was flattering myself, if you hadn't already admitted to your attraction to me. I still find it puzzling, but I am not going to complain about good news," Angelica told him as he got dressed.

"Don't be so damn tough on yourself. What exactly do you think is unattractive about you?" Philip demanded.

"My age. I'm 38, for God's sake! You're 8 years my junior, so you should be chasing younger women," Vasquez explained.

"Well, as you could see earlier, your age is NOT an issue with me. I like women of many ages, not just teen girls. I don't have a midlife crisis. That's for people who have lived by other people's rules. I have lived by my own instead, so I don't feel threatened by time. I don't need to recapture the happiness of youth. I have that of my own age, which is enough for me. If I like a woman, it's because of her brains, beauty, and personality, not because of how many years since her birth. I have casual relationships a lot, but that doesn't make me shallow," he commented.

"That's true. You don't have to be monogamous to appreciate more than beauty and youth. So, what do you say to fucking me now? My pussy could use some real fucking right now. Screw the 'gentle lovemaking' thing. I'm just plain horny," Ms. Vasquez urged him.

Philip didn't reply verbally to her request, but he did grab the Congresswoman, remove her slacks quickly, and lift her legs high enough for him to enter her drenched cunt. The excited pair knew that they most likely wouldn't have much time to do this, but they were aroused enough for that not to be an issue.

Vasquez needed to grip the sides of the desk, if for no other reason than to keep from falling backward onto her lover's papers. The swiftly increasing pace of pleasure from his cock plundering her pussy provoked a dramatic reaction in her. Angelica started pushing back at Sundermann, allowing him to go deeper inside her cunt.

"Yes, fuck me, Philip! I need that!" she repeatedly shouted.

Naturally, Sundermann wasn't going to deny her what she wanted, since he wanted the same thing. He continued to ravish her harder, lasting much longer than her ex did. He didn't notice the time, however. Both he and his lovely colleague were too involved in a wild office tryst to keep track of that.

The minutes raced behind the couple, as Philip kept nailing Angelica. The intensity of their combined pleasure made it difficult to prevent cumming for much longer, however. The additional stimulus of the danger factor also affected both of them, making them hornier instead of more anxious. Obviously, both of them were exhibitionists on some level.

The fact that Philip had already cum once helped out, in fact, because there was going to be a surprising, though not exactly unpleasant, delay. Mrs. Jansen had remembered that she wanted to find a phone number, and this caused her to return to the office some 24 minutes after she had left it. She had just finished a quick deli lunch and expected the Congressman, her boss, to be off having lunch of his own with that Latina Congressional colleague of his.

She was no fool regarding most people and hints like the eager tone in Vasquez's voice earlier. She could tell that they were interested in more than political collaboration with each other.

She was therefore only half-shocked to hear the noises coming from the Congressman's office. She opened the door to the main room, finding what she already knew would be there: Philip Sundermann, her own Representative in Congress, was having rough, albeit missionary sex on his desk with the Distinguished Gentlewoman from New Mexico.

"Sir, um, I uh....well, I just came back to get a phone number. Do you mind if I stick around for a bit, though? I already know the two of you now. The damage is already done. I promise not to tell the tabloids. I just want to watch you fuck her. I'm kind of turned-on by it. My husband never fucks me anymore, regardless of how much I diet. Please?" Molly pleaded with her boss.

"Well, if hubby never fucks you anymore, then he has no right to expect you to sacrifice that much for his obsession with thin girls. Besides, if he isn't having an affair, I'd be very surprised. Neglecting a spouse in an exclusive marriage or relationship is like throwing that spouse's sacrifice back in his or her face. It's an insult and shows a lack of appreciation. The sort of people that do that are the same sort that cheat. Neither sex has the right to neglect a partner and expect celibacy from him or her. You signed up for monogamy, not abstinence. If your spouse cheats or deprives you, you are entitled to a little revenge," Philip said, before starting to enter Angelica again.

"Querida, if you feel that way, maybe you should give her that revenge yourself. I've never had a threesome, but the idea of you fucking your AA on the spot is making me wetter. That's why you cheated on your late wife, isn't it? She neglected you, so it was justified. Well, if it is justified here, too, why not do her a nice turn?" Vasquez spoke up, while fingering herself.

"You won't feel 'neglected' yourself?" Philip reacted with some shock.

"Not really. I might even cum from watching you and fingering myself. If not, you and Molly will owe me one, after you have fucked her like she deserves," Angelica replied with a "nasty" grin on her face.

"Well, I wouldn't mind that....," Mrs. Jansen acted hesitant, but intrigued.

"Then bend over, and let me fuck you quickly. I need to cum myself soon, and then we can make sure that both of you girls get off," Sundermann abruptly and decisively ordered his Congressional secretary.

"Yes, sir," Molly obeyed, with a secret rush of excitement at the idea of cuckolding her mean old man. He HAD been rather neglectful and spiteful lately. Maybe he deserved to have another man fuck his wife. Whatever the case, it was flattering and arousing to have an assertive, domineering man like her boss order her around.

"I just wish I had a condom with me. I guess I'll take the chance if you will," Philip told her, as his cock became completely stiff again and entered his AA's now accessible pussy.

"Why not? It's not like she's gotten a lot of sex lately. I doubt that she has any STDs to worry about. Just don't forget that you still owe me a fuck and I will collect, honey. I'm just doing this poor girl a favor," Vasquez told her new boyfriend, with only half-serious assertiveness. Maybe the lady can be shown that women from lower-class backgrounds weren't so bad, after all, she thought.

"Thank you! Both of you!" Molly shouted with evident happiness, as Philip shoved his cock into her pussy. The fact that it was dripping with Angelica's juices didn't phase Mrs. Jansen. She didn't care about the circumstances of her current screw, the first she had in over a year. She was just happy to get laid at last. Her boss was right: she had married with the assumption that her sex life wouldn't change very much. Perhaps that had been naïve, but she never counted on being without sex for a whole year of marriage.

Angelica soon gushed from watching her new lover fuck his secretary as roughly as he had fucked her. That startled her, since she wasn't fully aware of a voyeuristic side to her sexuality before. She just thought that she was a typical straight girl, albeit more open to experimentation. She was glad that she had cum this way, however, since she had feared that Philip and Molly would get the wrong idea of what she meant earlier and suggest a bisexual, girl-on-girl, encounter with her. Vasquez was very liberal these days about sex, but she knew that she had no interest in women. She was a purely heterosexual woman.

What she had actually meant was that Molly should make it up to her by fucking her son, Jose. Angelica wanted him to get fucked now and then, as she got a strange thrill from listening to him screw various women. Perhaps it was the raw, brutal sex that he tended to have with women. Rough sex tended to be a turn-on that he seemed to inherit from her. That was why she hadn't grounded him after catching him in bed with a geeky girl who was supposed to tutor him in geography, like her mother had once grounded her brother for a similar incident.

She was also in a way proud that her son was such a stud. Maybe she would ask anyway. She didn't mind sharing Philip's cock, but Jose might distract Molly now and then, thus keeping her from getting any silly ideas of marriage to her lover.

"Ah, damn!" Philip grunted as he thrust once again into Mrs. Jansen's cunt and came in her.

He kept pounding her for a while, stunning the woman with his enduring hard-on. He wanted to cum one more time, before he finished for a while. He DID owe Angelica some more of his seed, after all.

As for Molly, she now climaxed herself, making it clear that she loved this rather unplanned romp. She had been willing to simply watch, but this beat that for certain. She just hoped that Angelica wouldn't turn jealous and try to get her to stop. She had no plans to end her affair with Philip now that she had started one. Of course, she knew that a man like Sundermann wasn't going to become exclusive with her, but that wasn't the issue. She just wanted to have her needs satisfied by him.

While she thought about this, Philip started fucking Angelica again. He was pretty sure that this was his last erection for the day, and he wasn't going to deprive his lover of it. She had been very nice to both him and his AA, so she deserved a proper reward. He felt Mrs. Jansen's eyes watching them as he rammed his cock into Ms. Vasquez, and took some satisfaction from the fact that she seemed not only aroused, but happy for them. He also liked the fact that she was staring at his ass a bit. He just hoped that she enjoyed the view that he was giving her of it.

As Sundermann fucked Angelica again, he became extremely turned-on by the realization that his cock now had two women's juices on it, which were going into the first woman straight from the second. Something about that appealed to him on an atavistic level, as an act of primal sensuality. The fact that it was bareback didn't hurt his excitement, either.

This knowledge made it too much for him to hold back anymore, so he warned Angelica, "I'm cumming NOW, baby! It's gonna be a big fucking load!"

Just as he told her, a remarkably large load of his seed poured into his new girlfriend, pleasing both of them in the process. This made it quite clear that Philip produced a lot of cum, and that Angelica had probably drained the last of it out of him this time.

Philip pulled out of Angelica's pussy and kissed her aggressively on her lips, after which Molly surprised him by planting a kiss on his. Angelica winked at him, as if she wanted to clarify that it was fine with her. Apparently, both women wanted to keep fucking him on a fairly regular basis. He could live with that situation.

As they got dressed for what was apparently going to be a 3-way date, Angelica stunned both of them by saying, "Say, Mrs. Jansen, I have an idea for you. What do you think of younger men?"

"How much younger? I am older than Philip, and I just fucked him. Are you trying to set me up with a boyfriend?" she demanded.

"No, no. I think that you already have a boyfriend, and he is the same man as mine. I was thinking of a young fuckbuddy. My son, Jose, likes to fuck around, and I want you to enjoy him, too. I can't, because I'm his mother and incest would be too weird for me. However, you could, and it would add some fun to hear Jose fucking you right after you are done and my turn with Philip has begun. How does that sound?" the Congresswoman proposed.

"Sure, if it is okay with Philip and Jose. Wow, two new sex partners! I started out today with none!" Molly reacted.

"Fine with me. I'm not the kind of jackass who wants two girls all to himself. Two girls, yes. All to myself, hell no! So, I have two girlfriends, don't I?" Philip declared.

"Duh, sir. I'm not opposed to casual sex, as my agreement with the Congresswoman shows, but I had a bit of a minor crush on you, anyway. Now that we are fucking, I would enjoy completely acting out that crush, by being one of your girlfriends, if that is cool with you," Mrs. Jansen commented.

"Works for me," Philip agreed.

"And me. I can't wait to tell Jose that he is getting an older woman this time. It will be nice, too, that you're not likely to get pregnant," Angelica giggled.

"Yes, actually, that part is very nice for me. And for our new boyfriend, I think," Molly laughed, as they got into Philip's car and headed to a nice formal restaurant.

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Beschreibung: Cadey Mercury decides to work out with her stepbrother Brad Knight simply because she knows it will drive him crazy. Despite his annoyance, Brad finds himself super turned on by their banter. When Cadey peels off her shirt and shorts and offers to let Brad stick his dick in her, he slides right into her from behind and starts pumping away.Dropping to her knees, Cadey makes sure that Brad is rewarded for his efforts. She sucks him off while her hands pump his shaft, even going so far as to try deep throating him. Once she knows he's close to cumming, she commits by telling him to jizz all over her face. She takes her facial with an open mouth, and then enjoys the delicious treat that he has left behind.
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tagErotic CouplingsThe Hotel Tryst

The Hotel Tryst

The Hyatt hotel, Melbourne

20:13 hrs – Friday

Matthew Crane studied the cordless phone in his hand with suspicion, as if it were an alien artifact and not just a few circuit boards wrapped in a hard plastic casing. It looked futuristic - sleek and evil - and he feared that once placed up to his ear it would suck him into some unimaginable void that he would never return from.

It wasn't just the sleek black phone that unnerved him; it was the entire ultra-modern hotel suite that sent shivers down his spine and spirits dancing over his grave.

A lot of the furniture was truly beautiful. The velvet curtains were a rich red and the plush carpet a deep sea blue - all obviously expensive, yet thrown together it looked too polished, too perfect. That was the problem; there were no flaws in the entire room. There was no dust on the furniture or chipped paint on the walls, the cushions on the couch were perfectly aligned and the bed immaculately made.

Matt enjoyed the odd bouts of perfection as much as the next man, but without chaos, even just a smidgeon of it, life would be ultimately mundane.

Still hanging onto the cordless phone, he walked over to the couch, picked up all four dark blue cushions and threw them to the floor. Now on a mission to manifest his own chaos, he stalked into the bedroom, tore the covers away from the queen-sized bed and tossed them to the carpet with disgust, adding much needed disarray to the bedroom.

He chuckled with delight at his little anti-perfectionism protest, returned to the open phonebook lying on the antique desk and looked at the phone number again.

The number had already been memorised and his memory was faultless, a machine that stored vast amounts of data without a second thought. But he was a man who disliked mistakes and seldom made them. Some may typically call this behaviour perfectionism. Matthew Crane called it survival.

In his line of work if you make a mistake you might die, or worse, you go directly to jail without picking up your $200 for passing Go. Death and jail were not viable options for him, so the alternative was to be meticulous in every aspect of his work, and that meant training and maintaining his mind to memorise everything in minute detail, even in his everyday life.

He entered the appropriate numbers into the keypad and he began to wonder if he really wanted to do what he was about to do. The little angel on his left shoulder was telling him to take a nice hot bath, think about Sally and relieve the tension that way. The little guy on his right shoulder with the pitchfork was being a little more forthcoming and a lot less eloquent. He told Matt that masturbation was for geeks and losers, and that the bitch the angel referred to as Sally was out of the picture, gone for good, that's all she wrote.

"Call the number and get us some pussy," the little red dude ordered, immediately convincing Matt that it was definitely the best course of action available.

"Hello, Marquis Escort Agency, how may we service you?" said a surprisingly young female voice into his ear.

"Uh...hello there, this is actually my first time I've done this, so..." he trailed off. His face flushed red with embarrassment and he was glad the young girl couldn't see him.

"Not a problem, Sir. First of all I need some of your details - name, address, age and your driver's licence number."

The situation left him momentarily stunned because it was so businesslike and not at all as sleazy as he'd imagined. It was as if they were discussing the sale of a shoe-cutting knife from an infomercial, and not the hiring of a high-class escort that was getting paid to fuck him.

He wasn't at all afraid of giving out personal information to a business such as the Marquis Escort Agency. Not only did he lack having a girlfriend to find out about it, he also didn't have any relatives or friends that word could get back to. He was alone. His chosen profession had left little room to form bonds and relationships.

Besides, he was operating under one of six false identities - Matthew Crane was not his real name.

He gave his false - yet they would survive a thorough police check - details to her and heard the tapping of a keyboard at the other end; obviously she was wearing a headset to allow free movent of her arms.

"Okay," she said with a final louder tap of a key, probably the enter button. "Mr. Crane, our service only provides the girls for the night and not by the hour. We're obliged to say that the girls are only there to escort you to dinner. Whatever they choose to do afterwards is by their own accord and in no way pertinent to the money that you pay them for their company."

He gripped the phone with apprehension and momentarily thought he had crossed some wires. But then, almost hearing his brain click, he suddenly realised that they had to say that for legal reasons, for if they didn't they were simply hiring out prostitutes which was against the law.

"Okay," he said, his heart rate easing back into a steadier rhythm.

"So, Mr. Crane, what kind of girls are you interested in?"

"Well..." he hesitated. He hadn't considered this part.

"White, black, oriental?" she asked patiently.

"How about hair colour?" she asked.

"I guess I'd like a blond thanks, but it doesn't matter if she's natural or not."

"Okay, would you like to specify an age? We can't guarantee that we'll be able to suit your needs exactly, but we'll get as close as possible for you."

Matt was suddenly attacked by a deep sense of shame, which struck him as being ironic because in order to excel in his line of work the fewer the scruples you accrued increased your percentage of success. Morals and ethics had suddenly burst from his blind spot and sideswiped him. Christ, he was in the middle of ordering a girl as if she were a pizza, but this wasn't a fucking supreme with extra pineapple, it was a real live girl that had feelings and people that probably cared about her. And here he was, on the phone, dialling her in like some takeout food so that he could get off, so that he could fuck her and get his kicks.

"Sir," the woman pressed.

"Look, Ma'am...I'm sorry, but I think I've wasted your time. I really don't feel too good about doing this."

He heard a sigh from the other end and he wondered if he'd pissed her off. He felt like a shit for taking up her time, when he of all people was aware of the continual ticking of the clock and that that monotonous sound meant wasted money.

"Sweetie, you sound like a really nice guy," she said, surprising him due to her thus-far utterly formal nature. "If you're feeling lonely then one of our girls will keep you company. And if you decide you don't want you-know-what, that's entirely up to you."

The devil on his right shoulder told him to go for it, to get the piece of ass and give it to her good. Surprisingly, the angel agreed with him but not in so many words; he simply told Matt that some company would do him good, especially that of the female persuasion.

"Maybe you're right," he agreed.

"Of course I am, honey. Now, how old would you like your companion to be?"

"Anywhere between eighteen and thirty would be fine by me."

"Closer to eighteen or closer to thirty? C'mon, it's okay if you like younger girls, I won't tell anyone."

"Closer to eighteen," he admonished, his cheeks flushing red again. "And I was just wondering...uh, how much will it cost?"

"It's $800 a night. But trust me, our girls are well worth the cost. We're proud to say that we're the best escort agency in Melbourne."

"Okay, that's fine. Thank you for being so patient with me."

"I'm happy to be of service, Matthew. We'll send her out as soon as we can for you. I hope you enjoy yourself, and don't worry, I'll make sure she's a real sweetheart for you."

And she was gone. Matt stared at the wall for a moment. He felt slightly sick to the stomach and wondered if he'd feel as guilty when she showed up. But then, as quick as Superman could stop a runaway train, his maleness kicked in and he began to pose a whole host of varying questions to himself. What would she look like? Would she find him attractive? Would he sleep with her and if he did, what would it feel like to have sex with a girl who he was paying to do so?

Deciding to spruce himself up before the escort arrived, Matt took a nice long shower and, feeling as horny as a teenager dating a girl who had a reputation of putting out, he had to constantly resist the urge to soap up his raging hardon and stroke himself into a frenzy.

After towelling himself dry, he slipped into an expensive suit and spent the next ten minutes trying to tie his tie correctly. His hands kept shaking as he thought about the girl that would be arriving shortly, and any guy can tell you that it's hard enough to get the knot and length perfect on a tie if you're not concentrating one hundred percent.

There was a sudden soft wrapping of knuckles against wood, a gentle double tap that made his eyes frantically search his own in the foggy reflection of the bathroom mirror.

Okay, he thought, be cool, be calm, and just act as collected and together as you do when you go to work.

Matt ran his left hand nervously through his damp hair and walked from the bathroom to the front door. He gripped the ice-cold metallic doorhandle, pulled back the safety chain and swung the door inward on squeaky hinges.

Ha! A flaw at last, he thought triumphantly.

Any pretence at all that he could remain cool and calm flew right out the window as he focused his eyes on the young lass standing at his doorstep. Every drop of saliva withdrew from his throat and retreated to the pit of his stomach, sending his mouth drier than a thousand-year-old parchment.

A cute young woman stood before him with her glossy lips partially open, a smile painted on them and her eyes boldly meeting his own. She was gorgeous, undeniably, totally and utterly gorgeous. For any man to dismiss her as otherwise would either make him as blind as the proverbial bat or so damned stupid that the poor bastard didn't deserve to live.

"Are you Matthew Crane?" she asked softly, her voice so low he could hardly hear her.

"Yes," he replied thickly, unable to do anything but stand there and gaze at her.

Her soft, straight hair was honey-blond and terminated at her shoulders. It partially obscured the right side of her face in a perfect imitation of Veronica Lake, the elegant and beautiful actress from the classic era. Her eyes were a beautiful leaf-green, a pale pink lipstick had been lightly applied to her luscious lips and her skin was creamy in texture - framed perfectly by her lovely blond hair.

The generous curves of her body were wrapped in a tight black dress, which suited Matt fine because while he tried not to favour any particular body type - he tried not to discriminate - a girl that was rounded in all the right places was definitely a bonus.

The neckline of her dress showed enough cleavage to be sexy but not too much to be distasteful, and, the fabric came down far enough to show some leg, although not enough to look slutty.

She looked classy but naughty at the same time, and he desperately tried to slow his hammering heart as he continued to look over her face and body. Whatever differences they may have had in the past, both his good angel and his less-than-good devil companions both agreed unanimously on one fact: she was gorgeous and he should feel lucky to be in her presence.

After waiting a few moments in the hall, she smiled coyly at him and asked, "May I come inside? Unless you want to do me right out here in the hallway?"

"Uh...no, that's okay. I'm sorry to be so rude, please come on in," he said, ushering her through the door and locking it behind her.

When they reached the middle of the lounge room she stopped and turned to him. Her gaze was sultry and her sensuous mouth was tilted into a friendly smile. This girl was so scorching that Matt expected smoke to rise from her body or the dress to catch fire.

Realising that his tie was still clenched in his hand, he threw it on the coffee table, aware that he wouldn't need it until they had properly introduced themselves.

There was little more than a foot between them and she didn't hesitate in giving him a thorough looking over, starting from his feet and working her way up. When she focused her eyes on his bulging crotch her smile got wider, until finally she moved up his chest and back to his face, re-establishing direct eye contact.

What's good for the goose is good for the gander, he thought absently.

Her smile did look genuine and it wasn't only limited to her lips but also extended to her eyes, which sparkled with mischief. Perhaps she didn't find what she saw too unappealing. If one believed in miracles, it might even be possible that she was attracted to him.

Animal attraction hadn't been the source of his previous break-up. Sally had constantly flattered Matt by calling him her 'own private spunk,' and she had positively adored having sex with him. They'd been a great couple for eight glorious months, until one night he finally decided to confide in her and divulge his true profession. Minutes later she'd left his flat crying with a handkerchief pressed to her face, muttering that he wasn't to contact her ever again.

And that's all she wrote.

When the lovely young girl on the phone had told him that he could spend time innocently in the company of an escort, he'd actually tricked himself into believing that he would. For some reason his little angel friend on his left shoulder had fed him lies, possibly due to being threatened by his pitchfork-holding counterpart into encouraging him to continue the transaction.

After all, he was male and he did have hormones, raging ones by the feel of things downstairs. Even the pope would struggle to keep his thoughts clean in the vicinity of the sweet young woman standing in front of Matt.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Nikki," she said. "And you're Matthew. Is it okay if I call you Matt?"

"Matt is fine, I like that better than Matthew anyway. I hope I'm not speaking out of line here but is Nikki you real name?"

"Yup, I was born Nikita, but I prefer Nikki. Why, is your name really Matt?" she teased.

He couldn't believe how soft her voice was in contrast to her bold gaze. It was so feminine and sweet. It hit just the right note and he found it as alluring as every other quality she possessed.

"Actually, no," he replied truthfully, amazed at his honesty. She was the first person he'd told in years that Matthew Crane was not his real name. He hadn't even told Sally his real name because she hadn't given him the chance to get that far.

"Do you want to tell me your real name? Just your first, you don't have to tell me your last name. You don't have to worry, I won't tell a soul."

His eyes narrowed and he tensed with paranoia. "Why do you want to know?" he asked, suddenly suspicious. Suspicion went part and parcel in his business.

With the grace of a feline, she slinked forward and slipped her delicate hands around his waist and rubbed her body against his. Her breasts squished against his chest and his erection became wedged painfully between their bodies. It felt slightly foolish having his hands hang limp at his sides, so he brought them around to the small of her back and felt smooth, bare flesh. He hadn't even noticed that her dress was backless, which showed how preoccupied by her beauty he'd been.

"Why do you want to know?" he repeated, this time in a softer tone.

"My, my, you are a mysterious fellow, aren't you?" she whispered, pressing her lips to his. He trembled in her arms. It had been four months since he'd held a woman, kissed a woman, and while she looked like a young girl she was definitely anything but.

"Do you want to know why I would like to know your name?"

"Yes, I would."

"Because I like to say a guy's name while he fucks me, and since we're going to fuck each other pretty soon, I thought you'd like me to say your real name," she breathed, then parted her lips and pushed her tongue into his mouth.

Matt kissed her back with quaking lips and a spinning head. It was like no other kiss he'd ever participated in. It was soft and wet, sensual yet with a touch of lust. Their tongues played together with a level of joy and excitement that could rival that of winning the national lottery, and, for Matt, merely being able to kiss this blond-haired, green-eyed girl would be worth forfeiting any fortune you could reap from a jackpot-winning lottery ticket. Kissing her was as priceless as Leonardo da Vinci's Mona Lisa or Michelangelo's fresco on the roof of the Sistine Chapel, sexier than living in Hugh Hefner's Playboy mansion, and hotter than the blazes of hell. It was the tastiest, steamiest and most mind-numbing kiss he'd ever been given.

Maybe it was just his blind hope getting in the way, but he really thought that her low murmurs and gentle moans were that of a chemistry building between them and not, as he feared, Nikki simply doing her job.

Eventually, when their lips and tongues began to tire from their strenuous workout, they moved their heads back and looked at one another for a very long time. Silence eclipsed the room, time ceased to move forward. Their bodies were still pressed together, unmoving, conveying thoughts and feelings via looks and smiles instead of using bulky inadequate words that could only insult the wonderful kissing that had just taken place.

Eventually, like a pin penetrating a bubble, Nikki broke through the room's auditory vacuum. "So...you're not going to tell me your name?"

"I'd like to, I really would, but..."

"It's okay," she said, slipping from his grasp. "I understand, it's water off a duck's back."

He felt a little guilty in not telling her his name. It couldn't hurt; there was no possible way that the police could ever find him anyhow. So where was the harm?

Matt watched Nikki as she ambled nonchalantly around the room, experiencing great difficulty in tearing his eyes away from her nicely proportioned body. She periodically stopped on her travels to inspecting the hi-tech video equipment and sound system, to pat the exquisite three-seater leather couch with matching recliners, and to take a casual peek inside the bedroom.

From time to time she would flash him a sly look and give her ass a little shake, leaving no doubt in his mind that she knew he was removing her dress with his eyes.

"This place looks like it would cost a small fortune. You must be a pretty important person to be able to afford this," she exclaimed as she sauntered back over to him.

"Hardly, I'm just a regular guy. I hate to disappoint you but I'm nothing special."

"You look pretty special from where I'm standing," she said, tilting her head. "So is what you do for a living as taboo as telling me your real name?"

"I'm afraid it is."

"You're quite the mystery, Matthew Crane, and I love mysteries. Most guys who live this lavishly can't wait to tell me all about how they made their money and how important and special they are, but not you. Not you..."

"I'm not like most guys," he countered.

"Well, I knew that as soon as I walked through the door. I'm good that way, very intuitive. What I don't understand is why you didn't just tell me that Matthew Crane was your real name and make up a job. Why didn't you lie to me? It wasn't as if you were in a position where you couldn't."

"Honestly...and yes, pun intended," he said with a smile, "I don't know why I told you the truth, or half-truth at least. I really don't know."

"Interesting," she said softly, her green eyes suddenly clouding with thought. Nikki uttered that singular word so quietly that he wouldn't have made it out had he not seen the movement of her lips.

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