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Jan 27, 2006

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» But is it Porn? from Sex & Games
An interesting question's been raised on Terranova. In an article, But is it Pron?, they ask this question: "...if two people having sex is it not pornography, so is it porn if they happen to use avatars?" Check out the... [Read More]

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And the rabbit hole goes deeper and deeper. Sometimes I think I should have choosen the blue pill.

I think that in-game sex, because it comes to us through avatar interplay and on a tv screen, is tempting to label as "porn," but that really it's a mutual, non-pornographic act (in some senses, at least) - much like RL sex, only realized through a different bodily medium.

Interesting - my take would that online/in-game sex is porn (if interactive porn), precisely because its mediation does not come through a bodily medium. That is, the effect is entirely pscyhological, as with porn, not also physical, as with actual sex.

We should look for interactive, mediated sexual services that are already established for precedent.

What designations are ascribed to phone sex? Unless a visual aspect is required for pornography (which one might be able to argue), then this seems to be a very similar case.

My understanding is that pornography, especially in the context of interstate commerce (a concern when the players may be in different states or even countries) is pretty grey in real life as it is. There are a number of overlapping laws and jurisdictions making the issue difficult to unravel even in simple cases of mail-order pornographic content, so this question may not be answered re: phone sex either.

I think people are confused about what pornography is.

Here's what I mean:

A 'record' of a sexual act, whether visual or otherwise is not on its own pornography, even if it's graphic or explicit. Pornography is about intention as well as content.

There is nothing about the presence or absence of physical contact that is essential to the notion of pornography.

Pornography is not regulated by U.S. laws, obscenity is. Obscenity has to do with (in the U.S.) local community standards about sexual content in media. Obscenity laws are basically blind to intention. Whether a 'work' is intended to be pornographic (or even obscene) or not largely irrelevant in this context. Again, 'pornography' is not coextensive with 'obscenity'.

Monkeysan, thanks for the helpful clarification. If I follow you correctly, then all of the legal issues surrounding record-keeping for the age of persons depicted in sexually explicit materials and laws regulating the sale and use of sexually explicit materials all are actually legally framed on obscenity laws rather than laws prohibiting sexually explicit media?

Therefore, dependent on the community in question, virtually created sexually explicit materials (avatar-based videos, images, etc.) would only be affected by these laws if they were deemed obscene in a court ruling. I appreciate the clarification as I was wondering how the law applied to sex bloggers and the like online (people posting graphic materials with no age-of-model record keeping and so on).

My only question then would be what counts as "community standards" for online materials, especially VR communities (like a MMOEG) which allow people from many different jurisdictions to share/post/acquire materials (some of which may be violating community standards in somebody's offline legal environment). Is the formation of an online voluntary community any protection from obscenity laws in a particular location or real life community? (this is not a request for IANAL advice, btw, but me wondering how the "check this box to accept these terms" splash page on most adult sites would actually hold up to laws based on "community standards")

I am not sure if the voluntary communities we subscribe to online afford us any protections if we post or recieve materials that would be considered obscene in our real life communities. I looked up a bit about the Title 18 codes regarding child pornography issues but am not sure at all how/where this is interpreted in court cases OR where I can find info about adult obscenity issues (such as local laws against BDSM or homosexual materials that don't expressly evoke anything relevant to child porn law- well outside of the bit about record keeping requirements).

In 2002, the US Supreme Court struck down the Child Pornography Prevention Act of 1996, saying that key provisions were "overbroad" and "infringed on established protections of material with artistic value that does not violate community standards."

Among other things, the ruling struck down a ban on the posession or sale of virtual child pornography and other "created" imagery that would, if generated "naturally," often be in violation of a variety of laws. For example, the staging of "Romeo and Juliet," if performed with actors of the age of the characters, would get the production company in deep doo-doo. Same holds true for the creation of art (whether considered erotic or not). Free speech wins.

As monkeysan says, it ain't about porn, it's about obscenity. And if the material is created virtually, the level of legal protection is going to be much, much higher... because you are essentially engaging in speech activity rather than "activity" activity. And speech is much more protected than "doing stuff," because speech is considered more inherently precious (at least in the US), and less inherently dangerous.

I can type the words, "I'm killing you with my Vorpal Sword of +3 Dy-no-mite," or "My dog is humping your leg," as easily as, "Welcome to the Casbah," and it has no inherent affect on your property, livelihood, happiness, legal status, etc. It's speech. It may be "art." You can ignore me. Unless what I type is slander or falls into other categories of illegal speech (which is hard as heck to prosecute), I can speek, you can respond, blah blah blah. Welcome to the Bill of Rights.

When the speech becomes obscene, though, it can be a bit more regulated... sometimes. But, as I said, stopping obscene speech and prosecuting obscene speakers is dreadfully hard. Bad history. Basically Americans have this idea that if you don't like the book, don't buy it. Don't like the movie, walk out. Don't like what I'm saying, walk away, turn the channel, or shout me down yourself, ya loud-mouthed bugger.

There have also been several legal decisions that say that a "channel" is not responsible for the speech of its members, unless tha channel knowingly allows for illegal activities or impedes the work of law enforcement officials. So, for example, just because County Alpha says that the use of the word "Buttocks" constitutes obscenity within its borders, and my ISP hosts a website that County Alpha residents have access to... the residents can NOT sue me for promoting obscenity. Now, if I knew that one of my hosting clients was selling reality-created child porn on my servers, I would have to report that to the FBI, because it is a federal crime.

But virtual child porn? Nope. It's speech, not in any way linked to reality. And that's where we are with VWs.

My avatar in SL can do all kinds of crazy stuff that I'm not doing in RL. It's an actor. A character. Am I flying when it is flying? Dancing when it is dancing? Heck, I'm not even talking when we're chatting. It's a mode of speech. A complex, multi-dimensional mode of speech, but speech nonetheless.

I can have sex in real life while eating a Big Mac. Does that make fast food porn? I can videotape myself having sex while watching Sesame Street. Is that child porn? It may be deeply weird, but it's protected speech. [Note: if I try to sell it, the Children's Television Workshop will sue the boojum out of me for copyright infringement, as well they should].

"Having sex in a VW" is, in terms of real-world legal talk about sex... is currently meaningless. Unless you can prove that the actions of the *person* -- the player -- at the time of the VW related action were somehow illegal and related to sex (for example, enticing a minor to engage in illegal activity), I can't see how whether your avatar was having sex or surfing or dancing or shopping or singing or fighting or dissolving in acid has anything to do with porn or obscenity currently.

The only current legal issue (in the US, that I'm aware of) is that publishers need to take "reasonable" measures to keep minors out of "adult" or "mature" themed games and entertainment. Beyond that, it's all speech. Regulation of such is at the discretion of the publisher, is a "rules" issue, and not a legal one.

Party on.

My understanding was that both obscenity and pornography are legal terms & are regulated by law. In addition to their other function as words that convey information when used in sentences. Or confuse people when the speaker and the listener have different ideas of what they think the word means exactly. :)

As I understand it, obscene material is illegal to sell to anyone, even if they're 99. Might be legal to possess or create, not sure on that and it might vary by state. Pornography is (mostly) legal to make and to sell to people 18 and over, and illegal to sell to people 17 and under. Most adult mail-order businesses, though, have a list of certain cities, counties, and entire states they won't ship orders to, because the local laws are so restrictive they'd rather just avoid getting in trouble. Florida is on that list - Oklahoma might be too, not sure. Oklahoma once prosecuted the California owners of a BBS for selling materials that fit within the "community standards" of California, but did not do so in that Oklahoma city where a police officer dialed out and accessed it from. A landmark case for the question of "how is jurisdiction determined online".

As for a more down to earth definition, my favorite is the one given by some judge in the 70s or 80s as part of his ruling in a case about pornography. "I don't know how exactly to define it, but I know it when I see it." :)

I agree that in the legal context, it's mostly about obscenity. I'd still ike to address the semantics of pornography.

A "pornograph" would indicate a record of a sexual nature. Records kept in human memories have pretty much never counted, because they're only recallable by the possessor (pending some more advanced neural interfacing technology).

The thing about the Internet medium is that it presents and, at times, requires numerous opportunities to create recordings of interactions. Many of these have been defined as "ephemeral" copies, that aren't meant to stick around long; nonetheless, these records are reproducible for parties other than the participants.

One more definition of the term. "Erotica" is whatever you like. "Pornography" is what somebody ELSE likes.

Video games, even interactive ones, as porn? Ok, lets look for existing precedents. Most people will when asked what they consider pornography will initially point to some obvious VISUAL medium. we associate the visual with pornography. So, a video game depicting visual acts, whether interactive or not, would have visual resources included with it to represent the interactivity. They have the makings of the pornographic output regardless of the inherent interactivity.

Ok, lets move on a bit. We also understand pornography as something static and inherently non-interactive. We have pictures and movies and stories (which can all span from the merely erotic to the fully pornographic). I've read the above arguments that these are considered pornography because they are an existing record of sex. Following that, the argument would be that any virtual sexual interaction, non-recorded, would be the same as actual interaction.

But it's not, and we already have a precedent that nobody has mentioned. Phone Sex companies have been around for quite a while now with, according to the proliferation of ads found in less discriminate local newspapers, little decline. This is a form of virtual sexual interaction (with the telephone as medium). I would assume that it is not recorded. (Who would want to talk on a phone sex line knowing that it would be recorded?) But, at the same time, it would widely be considered pornographic in nature. It is restricted and limited and falls under many of the same taboos and regulations.

So, is any form of virtual sex then pornography? Is any sexual interaction between two (or more) people not existing in the same location, inherently pornographic. I'd say that precedent says so. People who want exposure to it are supposed to provide proof of age (if not identity). We do this because the proliferation of it has mad gaining access to it so much easier than it used to be. Pictures, video, games, and the Internet especially, remove the human element that used to be involved in obtaining restricted materials. They make regulation easier to circumvent, and therefore more important if we want to regulate it.

I would say that virtual sex is a form of pornography by it nature of being virtual. By extension, any sexual interaction that is not done in earnest (and presence) is, in some form, pornographic.

The comments to this entry are closed.


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Chapter 1

It was a small party of ten couples and a few unattached men and women and it was, to Helga Cooper’s mind, rather a stuffy affair. Everyone seemed to be standing in little clusters, talking inanely of topics typical to cocktail parties: local and national politics, current fads and fashions, the Elections, The hostess, a tall, statuesque blonde whose name was Luci Danton, circulated amongst the guests with a tray of various preferential drinks and her long-side burned husband, Tim, sat next to a slim redhead on one of the living room’s two couches, putting his hand on her knee almost possessively when he thought his wife wasn’t looking.

Helga stifled an involuntary yawn, knowing that Tom and her should never have accepted the Danton’s invitation. Tom had quit his job three weeks ago, and everyone knew why; as a consequence, of his actions like Tim Danton thought it socially impressive to invite Tom Cooper and his wife to their drab little parties. Yes, that was certainly the reason they had been invited; but they’d accepted anyway, knowing this, just to get out of their own house, to see some other faces, to talk with someone besides one another.

They had stayed home every night since Tom’s resignation they’d turned down two other invitations to social functions because Tom was trying desperately to get his novel started, working twelve to fifteen hours every day, writing fifteen or twenty pages but throwing most of them away in anger and frustration. It simply wasn’t going right, he had told her; the words wouldn’t jell. The reason for that was a combination of things: the Department of Public Works was putting in a new sewer main on their street, and the noise of jackhammers and heavy machinery and large trucks was deafening at times; the phone seemed to ring continuously with calls from friends, well-wishers, dogs barking, power lawn mowers whining destroyed whatever moments of silence were left. He’d given it up this morning, calling the whole idea an abortion, saying that he wouldn’t couldn’t write another line in that house; he had to get away, he’d said, somewhere where he could be alone, in peace and quiet, to collect his thoughts and coordinate his ideas into the cohesive format of the projected novel. And he had to do it damned soon, too; he’d already sold the book to a major New York hard-cover publisher on the basis of an outline alone, had been given a large advance (most of which was already spent on old bills and incidentals), and he had less than eight months in which to deliver the completed manuscript. It was to be a major, lengthy work, and if he was to meet that deadline he couldn’t afford to lose any more time getting started.

When the Danton’s telephoned invitation had come that morning, just after Tom’s objections, he had told Helga to go ahead and accept what the hell; they might as well get out of the house since it was no use in trying to continue the novel. Luci Danton came around to where Helga and Tom were standing near the large field stone fireplace and asked them if they would care for another drink. Tom declined politely, and she moved off again. He said to Helga, “I’m beginning to wonder if we shouldn’t have stayed home tonight. I could’ve stared at the typewriter and you could’ve stared at me. “She squeezed his arm, smiling up at him wanly. “I think we’d have had just as good a time.” “I hate parties like this,” Tom said. “They’re so damned pretentious.” “I know.” “I haven’t heard an honestly intelligent statement all night.” “Spoken like a true novelist,” Helga said in a gently chiding voice. “Mr. Hemingway, I presume?” “Ouch!” Tom said, recoiling in mock pain. “Your barbed wit cuts deep. ”She touched the long, silky strands of her dark brown hair in that unconsciously vain way women affect. “I was just teasing, honey.” “I know you were,” Tom sighed. “How much longer do we have to remain at this abysmal affair, do you suppose? When can we leave without destroying our image?” “Very shortly,” Helga said. “Can you take another half hour of this?” “Must I?” “You must.” “This is a far, far better thing I do, as Hamlet said.” Tom muttered, taking a moody swallow from his double martini.

Just then, one of the couples whom they had been introduced to upon arriving at the party Luke and Angela Miller made their way over to where the Suttons were standing. Luke Miller was Tall and muscular, with a salt-and-pepper crew-cut and dark, intelligent gray eyes. He gave the impression of having once been an athlete he was broad shouldered and thick-chested, and the material of his Madras jacket was stretched taut across his pectorals. Looking at him, Tom Cooper thought that he probably worked out regularly in one of the local gymnasiums or health clubs. He had a broad, friendly, contagious smile and an easy-going manner. He was carrying, oddly enough, a glass of dark beer in one huge hand. His wife, Angela, was tall and thin with brownish-yellow hair and huge, luminescent green eyes with tiny yellow flecks in the irises and rather large breasts. She wore a clinging blue dress which hugged every inch and caressed her slender, huge breasted body, accentuating the easy, natural sway of her tight-mooned buttocks. She was holding onto Miller’s arm and smiling warmly as they approached. “Hello there, Cooper,” Miller said heartily as they came up. “Lousy party, isn’t it?” “Shall I be honest about it?” Tom asked. “Sure.” “Yes. It’s a lousy party. “Miller laughed deeply, with good-natured, infectious amusement. He said to his wife, “I told you I was going to like this, didn’t I, Angela? He’s a man after my own heart honest and frank and totally lacking in the phony social graces.” “Thanks I think,” Tom said. Miller laughed again. His eyes shifted to Helga, moving easily over her beautifully compact, perfectly symmetrical body in a way which was complimentary to Helga not lecherous, but openly admiring. “How about you, Helga? What’s your opinion of this little affair? “The familiar use of her first name didn’t bother Helga at all; she found herself rather liking this large man.” The same as my husband’s,” she answered ruefully. “Don’t really know why we came,” Miller said. “Something to do on a Friday night, I guess.” “Same here,” Tom said. They had established a common bond and he, too, found himself liking Miller. And Angela, even though she hadn’t spoken as yet, struck him as being an intelligent, carefree soul like her husband. On top of that, she was damned attractive, Tom had to admit; very damned attractive.

They fell easily then into conversation. As both Tom and Helga had surmised, the Millers were witty, intelligent people, interesting to talk to. It developed that Luke was an electronics salesman for a large national company, extremely successful; so much so, in fact, that he was now semi-retired, working when he felt like it. Angela, in addition to being a housewife, dabbled in oil painting in her spare time. She was very modest about that, but Miller insisted that she was a tremendous talent, witness the fact that she had sold two of her seascapes for five hundred dollars each just last month.

The topic of conversation shifted, naturally, to the novel Tom was writing. The Millers had heard of it from the Danton’s (no surprise there, Tom thought a little sardonically), and Luke was extremely interested in it. He asked, “What’s the book about? That is, if you don’t mind revealing same.” “No, I don’t mind,” Tom said. “ well it’s about a couple that seemed to lose the way with each other after a few years of marriage then find each other. “I have a few ideas on that subject myself,” Miller said. “But it sounds like a hell of a book, if you can pull it off. I don’t mean that at all derogatorily, you understand.” Tom grinned wryly. “Well, I’m not sure I can pull it off.” “Oh? Why?” “I can’t seem to get started on the thing. The first couple of chapters are extremely important, tekirdağ escort and I can’t get them flowing. I must have written seventy-five pages in the past three weeks, of which I’ve salvaged maybe four or five.” “What seems to be the problem?” Miller asked with genuine concern. Tom told him about the Department of Public Works, and the telephone ringing and the power lawn mowers whining. Miller clucked his tongue sympathetically. “Sounds like you need to get off in the wilds somewhere for a few weeks.” “That’s just what I need,” Tom answered. “Trouble is, Helga and I aren’t exactly the richest people in Rosella at the present time. Most of the publishers advance is gone, and we have a home to maintain. I just can’t afford to rent, much less buy, a mountain retreat for the length of time I’m going to need.” “Then what will you do, Tom?” Angela asked in her musically soft voice. “Grin and bear it, I guess,” he replied. “Maybe, one of these days soon, I’ll be able to get into the book; if that happens, all the goddamned noise in the world won’t affect my work.” “You will, dear,” Helga told him. Tom grinned his wry grin. “Wifely faith, is what would we creative geniuses do without it?” Miller laughed. “Behind every great man, there’s a great woman,” he said. “And vice versa,” Angela put in.

They all laughed, and the rapport between the two couples was fully established. They spent the next hour and a half discussing a various and sundry number of things, losing all track of time, each enjoying the company of the others. When midnight came, the party began to break up. Tom reluctantly looked at his watch, saying, “Hell, I didn’t figure it to be this late. I’ve got to be up with the roosters tomorrow for another shot at the typewriter.” “I thought you were going to let it simmer for a couple of days, honey?” Helga said teasingly. “Do you believe everything I say?” “Of course.” Tom shook his head in feigned wonder. “What did I ever do to deserve you?” “I’ve wondered about that myself.”

Miller’s hearty laugh punctuated their conversation. “Listen,” he said, taking Tom’s hand, “talking with the two of you had made a pleasant evening out of what started out to be a huge bore.” “Same here,” Tom told him. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Luke. And,” he added gallantly, “you’re most lovely wife.” “That goes for me, too,” Miller said, his eyes moving over Helga again in that admiring way until she blushed lightly with pleasure. “What say we get together one of these days?” “Sounds delightful,” Helga said enthusiastically. “Do you play cards?” “Yes, we do.” “Fine! We’re a couple of tenacious players, Angela and I, but we don’t play for blood. We’ll make it a foursome one of these evenings soon, if you’re amenable.” “That we are,” Tom said. “Are you listed in the book?” “No,” Helga responded. “What with all the calls we’ve been getting, we had our number changed to an unlisted one.” “If you’d rather not give it out” “Oh no, not at all,” Helga said quickly, looking at Tom. He nodded. She gave the number to Angela, who wrote it down in small, red leatherette notebook from her purse. “Just don’t call between seven and noon,” Tom warned. “Helga just picks up the receiver and puts it back down. Cardinal rule: no talking of any kind between seven and noon. “Miller chuckled. “Right.”

They got their coats and bid one another good night at the door. Tim Danton, more than a little drunk by this time, pumped Tom’s hand enthusiastically, urges him to be sure to give “me and the missus” an autographed copy of his book when it was published. Tom said that he would, and Helga and he went quickly to where their car was parked in front. The Millers, with Luke driving the dark green Lincoln Continental, waved as they pulled away from the curve. As Tom helped her into their two year old Ford, Helga said, “Aren’t the Millers the nicest people?” “Yes,” Tom agreed. “They certainly are.” “I’m going to fuck Helga Cooper,” Luke Miller said, “And you, my dear, are going to help me do it.” Angela smiled, stretching languorously on the front seat of the Lincoln. “Of course, darling,” she answered. “After all, Tom Cooper is a handsome and desirable man. I’m going to enjoy getting laid by him just as much as you’re going to enjoy fucking the lovely Mrs. Cooper.” “Goddamn, but you’re the hottest woman I know,” Miller said with some pride. “You just love cock, don’t you, baby?” “Just like you love pussy, sweetheart.”

Miller took one hand from the steering wheel and put it on her firm, soft thigh, just at the point where the blue shift rode high on her lap. He began to stroke the feathery surface lightly. She slid over next to him and, without preamble, laid the palm of her slim hand on the crotch of his sports slacks. His prick hardened instantly at her touch through the material, and Angela said, “Mmmmmmmm, daddy’s ready, isn’t he?” in a teasing voice. “Daddy’s always ready,” Miller said. “Just like mommy.”

Angela began to stroke his cock lightly with her palm while his hand moved higher along her thigh. She breathed into his ear hotly, saying, “How do you propose to get next to the nice Cooper couple, lover? They don’t exactly strike me as swingers, so the direct approach would seem to be out.” “True,” Miller said. “But I’ve got a plan.” “What is it?” “I’ll tell you when we get home.” “Tell me now, lover,” Angela said. Deftly, her fingers found the zipper of his fly and worked it down quickly. The throbbing length of his huge rod pushed the thin folds of his underpants out through the fly opening, straining for escape. But Angela kept it imprisoned inside, stroking the rigid tool with knowledgeable fingers; she knew how to torment a man in many ways: by touch, by word, by manipulation of her own body. Miller was breathing faster under her agile ministrations, and Angela shivered anticipatory. Oh, she was going to give him a ride when they got home, all right she really was! She could feel her cunt begin to seep warm, moist fluid, soaking the thin silk of her panty briefs, and she ground her smooth formed buttocks down against the pliant leather of the seat. “Tell me the plan, lover,” she repeated. “We’re … ohhhh … almost home,” Miller panted. And then, “Damn you!” as her hand rubbed more tantalizingly over his prick, using the material of his underpants to taunt and rub the blood-engorged glands into near-explosion. His own hand went higher along her thigh and his fingers found the dampness of her crotch. He wiggled a finger inside the leg band, dipping the tip into the secret juices of her warm, slightly throbbing vagina, causing a low, soft moan of sheer animalistic pleasure to escape her throat. “How do you like that, you little prick-teaser?” he hissed breathlessly.”Ohhhh, lover!” His forefinger found the quivering miniature phallus of her aroused clitoris, moved with provocative slowness back and forth across its sensitive surface until his wife was grinding her hips faster and faster down against the seat, her loins surging upward against his finger as if trying to beckon it to plunge deep inside her vaginal cavity. Miller whispered, “You’ll wait until we get home, won’t you, baby?” “Aaaggghhhh, hhmmmmmmmm!” she groaned. “Yesssss, I’ll waitttttt!” Miller grinned triumphantly, and eased his finger away from her clitoris, took it out from beneath her panties and let his hand rest on her thigh. She allowed her fingers to remain on his still-hardened cock, but they weren’t moving now; her eyes were closed and she leaned against him, letting the sensations his probing, questing finger had caused ripple through her deliciously.

The Lincoln’s headlights picked up the large, Colonial-style home which they owned. Miller brought the large luxury automobile into the driveway and upward into the spacious two-car garage next to Angela’s canary yellow Triumph TR-6, shut off the engine and the lights. He stepped out, zipping himself tekirdağ escort bayan up, feeling the blood still pounding in his erect cock. Tease him like that in the car, would she? Well, just wait until they got inside! He’d do a little teasing of his own! He went around to open the door for Angela, helped her out, and they went into the sprawling, maple-furnished house. Miller switched on the indirect lights in the knotty pine-paneled living room and went to the impressive, well-stocked bar at one end, near the avocado-draped front window. “How about a drink, baby?” he called to Angela. “Hmm, all right.” “Scotch?” “No ice, lover,” she nodded. He poured two scotches and brought her one. “Let’s go into the bedroom,” he smiled teasingly, wrapping his big arm about her slim waist. She pressed against him. “Will you tell me the plan then?” “We’ll see.”

They entered the bedroom and Miller took off his Madras jacket, throwing it over one of the maple chairs near the dresser. Angela undid the two buttons on the front of the shift and slowly, seductively, using her palms and undulating her body rhythmically, she slid the garment down along her body until it lay puddled at her feet. Her eyes were heavily lidded, smoky, and she watched his face as she undressed. She stood there, dressed now only in bra and panties. Tantalizingly, like an exotic dancer practicing her art expertly, she reached behind her and unhooked the bra fastenings, pulling it away from her firm white breasts slowly, making sure that the aroused, berry-sized nipples were the last to meet his hot, hungry eyes. She dropped the bra on top of the shift and then raised her hands to cup her full, rich mounds, kneading them like a lover would. Finally, she dropped her fingers to her panties and slowly worked them down over her long, tapering legs until she was standing before him completely nude. “Like, lover?” she asked throatily. “Christ, you’re like a goddamned whore when you get in the bedroom!” Miller said, but he wasn’t castigating her for it. Hell, he wouldn’t have had it any other way. His eyes roamed over her well-tanned body, at the fleecy, light brown down framing the wet, pink folds of her cunt. She was something else, all right; in the six years they had been married, he had never had a woman who pleased him any more than she did whether it be suck or fuck; a few had come close to approximating her prowess in the rack, but none had ever surpassed her. That was one hell of a compliment, considering the number of women Luke Miller had had in those six years of marriage. Angela reveled in his lustful gaze for a long moment, and then she stepped over to the king-sized, satin-spread double bed and lay down on it, spreading her legs wide in a wanton, inviting position, exposing to his eyes the full, wet, palpitating opening of her cuntal passage. She rotated her hips lewdly on the satin spread, arching them up and lowering them again in a measured, intoxicating way. “Aren’t you going to get naked, lover?” she asked in a husky voice.”Goddamn right I am!” Miller said. Quickly, he undressed, throwing his trousers and shirt and tie over the jacket on the chair, pulling his underpants down. He stood there with his great, trembling cock standing out from his groin like some impossibly huge instrument of torture, the unseeing eye in the glans oozing thin, clear droplets of aroused lubrication. Angela stared at it, moistening her lips with her tongue as if tasting the seeping fluid already swirling around in the warm sucking caverns of her mouth. “Come on,” Angela urged. “Lie down beside mommy.” “And what’s mommy going to do then?” “Mommy’s going to take that big lovely cock of yours and suck every last little drop of hot cum right out of it,” Angela whispered up at him. Damn! Miller thought. She really knew how to get a guy heated up, talking that way, using words like she used her body, fucking you verbally if such a thing were possible. His prick quivered and throbbed in anticipation. But he owed her a little teasing for what she had done to him in the car on the way home first, before he took her up on her offer.

He sat on the edge of the bed, next to her, close enough to allow her hand to snake out and encircle his prick, to begin to stroke and then to massage the turgid length, rubbing the skin back and forth and then to slip her hand underneath and cup and caress his balls, cradling their softness in her palm. Miller stifled a small groan of pleasure, and then reached down and removed her hand. “First things first,” he said. “What do you mean, lover”‘ “You wanted to hear my plan, didn’t you?” “Oh, daddy! You can tell me the plan afterwards!” “No, I’m going to tell you now. You were anxious enough to hear about it earlier.” She returned her hand to his penis and testicles, rubbing, caressing. “Please, daddy,” she crooned. “I’m hot now, and I want to suck you. Come on, let mommy suck you now and then you can tell me all about your plan.” “No,” Miller said. He moved down to the foot of the bed, looking up at her, watching her undulate her hips, her tongue still flicking along her lips, her eyes resting hotly on the huge, granite-hard expanse of his weapon, at the wrinkled sac of his bloating balls. “Now the way I figure it, Tom is the one to work on first. He’s a man, and therefore he’s more susceptible than Helga.” “So you plan to get to Helga through Tom,” Angela said. She stretched out her leg, frowning a little petulantly, and began to stroke his thigh with her toes, waggling her big toe upward to touch the rigid flesh of his cock until he reluctantly pushed it away and continued.”That’s right. Now I think we’ve got the answer on how to do it from what Tom said tonight. About not being able to work on his novel because of all the interruptions.” Angela lowered her hand and began to stroke her belly lightly with her fingertips, teasing the softness of her pubic mound, then trailing lower down between her legs so that she was rubbing in slow, even tempo the moistness of her cuntal mouth, teasing her clit. Watching her, Luke became even more aroused she knew that he really enjoyed watching her play with herself, and she was so hot for his hard pulsating cock now that she was pulling out all stops to get him to stop talking. Luke opened his mouth to continue, but he swallowed hard at the sight of his wife manipulating her genitals, darting her middle finger in and out of her soft, hair-lined vagina with deft strokes in the attitude of copulation. As she did so, she pushed her buttocks down farther on the bed, coming nearer to him, and this time he didn’t pull away. Her hand seized his cock again, began to stroke it then, before he was able to fend her off, she rose up and pressed her body against his, forcing him back into a prone position across the width of the bed. “Damn it, Angela, I’m trying to tell you about” Miller began, but then he stopped as his wife began to trail her soft, moist lips along the side of his neck, into the hollow of his throat, down along his hirsute chest. She nuzzled the rigid buds of his nipples, rolling her tongue back and forth across one, and then let her mouth roam down across the girth of his large, protruding, but well-muscled belly. He groaned at the stimulation her expert lips were sending through his body, thrust his hips down hard against the satin spread. Her fingernails scratched lightly over his cock now, over his testicles, reaching under his body to probe briefly at the puckered ring of his anus, retracing their path back to his quivering penis. “The plan …” Miller began weakly. “You can tell me what it is afterward, lover,” she crooned. “Just relax now, daddy, and let mommy take care of you.” Damn it, she’d won again, Miller thought fuzzily, giving himself over to the prurient sensations of her lips and fingers. She always won, always got her way sexually if not in other matters; here in the bedroom, she seemed to be lord and master instead of the other escort karadağ way around. Not that he minded, hell, she was so damned good in bed that it didn’t offend his masculine pride at all to have her get her way because her way was invariably the best way. Angela was poised on all fours now, kneeling between his widespread thighs, her head lowered almost to the tip of his up thrust cock, stroking the palpitating flesh lightly with first one hand, then the other, then rubbing it gently between the palms of both hands, further arousing him until moans of joy rendered from his lips. “Goddamn it, hurry up, baby, hurry up!” he groaned. “Suck it, suck it, suck it!” His hips thrust upward, but she pulled her head back out of reach, chuckling softly, still stroking and manipulating his cock and balls. He reached up and entangled his hands tightly in her hair, trying to guide her head down to meet his forward-leaping manhood. His head was lifted off the bed, so that he could watch the lust-contorted features of her beautiful face, poised there above his loins, and his brain reeled with the mental image of his thick, pulsating cock burrowing in and out of her oval lips; he was excited beyond all recall now, he had to have her suck him off! He could feel the semen beginning to boil in his testicles, and he knew it wouldn’t be long before it would come spewing out of his shaft like a flow of hot molten lava. “Hurry, hurry!” he begged. “Suck it, baby, suck it!” Suddenly, as if in abeyance, Angela plunged her head forward and down. Miller felt the incredible, hot moist softness of her lips close over the sensitive head of his cock, felt her firebrand tongue lick circles of liquid fire around and around it, flicking into the glands opening, drinking up the lubricating fluid oozing there. His hands in her hair tightened and he thrust his loins upward, driving the length of his massive prick deep into the soft, warm folds of her mouth, feeling it slam against the back of her throat. “Ummmmmmmmmmm!” Angela mewled around her husband’s hardened rod of flesh. “Aaggggghhhhh!” Miller cried in lust-crazed agreement.

Angela drew back slightly, so that she was able to taste the moist stickiness of the glands again, twirling her tongue maddeningly faster around the blood-inflated head. Then she began to suck him rhythmically, with all the practiced expertise of the accomplished female lover. He watched her convoluted lips working on his cock, watched the soft wet skin of her mouth pucker outward and then back in again as she sawed her mouth the full length of his rigid tool. The sight of her sucking him never ceased to increase his arousal, and his loins tensed and jerked upward into her face, all the fleshy expanse disappearing with each hard forward thrust, so that only a small stretch of it showed white and glistening with saliva wetness between her lips. Her tongue, with a nerve-shattering lick on the out stroke, was like a separate entity, a thing gone wild with lust, making the head jerk and convulse as though it, too, were a thing alive with a mind of its own. She sucked hungrily, her mind caught up in the task of what she was doing, her concentration as full and complete as that of a scientist applying mathematical equations. Her breasts danced wildly below her pumping head, adding to the lust-inciting picture he was viewing. “Suck it, suck it, suck it!” Miller urged her on, dropping his head back on the bed heavily, closing his eyes and pretending for a brief moment that it was Helga Cooper sucking him, that it was Helga Copper’s round, lipstick-rimmed little mouth around his huge cock. Well, it would be, all right, soon enough; he’d fuck her one of these days, he was confident of that, and with the fucking went the sucking; that was irrefutable. He’d shoot his load of boiling cum deep into her throat and into her belly, and she’d be begging him for more …

Angela slaved below, her body glistening from pustules of lust-sweat. The pressure grew and grew in Miller’s balls, and he shoved his loins up hard against her face, hearing her protesting mumble, not heeding it in his desire for the final release of the maddening buildup of semen in his scrotum. And then, all at once, he felt the eruption take place, felt the first stream of white-hot fire leap along the passage of his plunging cock. He gasped, his lips pulling back across his teeth as though he were in agony. His cock began a sudden wild, convulsive jerking that flooded without advance warning Angela’s madly sucking mouth with rush after rush of burning semen, bloating her cheeks outward with each spurt until she was forced to swallow wildly to keep from choking, mewling and crooning and tickling his balls with the tips of her fingernails. “Keep … sucking!” Miller cried. “Lover, keep sucking, keep suckingggggg!” His hands were working spasmodically in her hair now, ramming her head down harder on his burgeoning cock, burying it deep in her throat. And then, with one last mighty groan as his wife crazily sucked at the juices of his lust, he emptied the final drops of his sperm into her mouth.

Angela continued to nibble gently at the fleshy instrument, milking every last drop of his load, until the satiated penis began to gradually deflate in her mouth. Miller flung his arms outward on the bed in exhaustion, a great sigh of absolute fulfillment emitting from his lips. His wife lay for a long moment between his outstretched legs, her head on his thigh, still nibbling gently at the limp cock settling down into the cradle of his balls. Finally, she crawled up and kissed him full on the mouth. He accepted her tongue hungrily as she thrust it into his mouth, even though droplets of his white sticky cum were drooling down in thin rivulets from the corners of her glistening lips. “How did you like that, lover?” she whispered. “As good as always!” he enthused. “Hell, better!” She kissed him again, and then said, “Now I’m ready to hear your plan of action regarding the Cooper’s. After which,” she added, smiling down at him with her eyes sparkling hotly, “you may return the favor of my sucking you by eating my pussy until I cum as well as you did. Sound good?” “Sounds goddamned good!” “But first the plan.” “Well,” Miller said, “it’s simple enough. Like I started to say before, Tom was complaining about not being able to work on his novel because of all the interruptions. What he wanted to do, he said, was get away somewhere, alone, where he could really get to work. Remember?” “Uh-huh.” “Suppose we provide him with that retreat he mentioned?” “You mean – our cabin on the coast?” “Exactly,” Miller told her. “It’s perfect.” “Do you think he’ll accept the offer of the cabin?” “Hell, why shouldn’t he? He can’t afford not to accept, can he?” “Lover,” Angela said admiringly, “I do believe you’re a genius. But suppose Helga wants to go along with him?” “I doubt that,” Miller said. “When he said he wanted to be alone, I think he meant just that. Completely alone, without even his wife. I’ll call him tomorrow and put the idea to him, and we’ll see if I’m right.” “And if he does accept, then I take over?” “You take over,” Miller said. “I’ll tell him you’ll meet him up there, show him where everything is and so on. Then you’re on your own.” He grinned. “I have no doubt what’ll happen then.” “And you’ll be doing what?” “Dropping over to see Mrs. Cooper,” he answered. “I’ll suggest that she and I take a ride up to the cabin, so that she can see what it’s like. I’ll say it’ll be a surprise, that we’ll all have dinner together. We’ll drive up there” “and just happen to catch sight of Tom Cooper and me doing’ what comes naturally,” Angela finished. “Right. Of course, you’ll have to make sure the two of you keep at it for a long time. No telling how long it’ll be before I get his wife up there.” “No problem, lover,” she chuckled. “You know me.” “Hell yes, I do,” Miller said. “You just love cock, Mommy, like I said before.” “And you love pussy,” Angela told him. She began to push his head down long her body, moving her hips on the bed, letting her own fires rekindle hotly. “Now let’s see you prove that I’m right, lover!” Miller proved it without the slightest doubt

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Apparently there was only so slowly that Morgan was willing to go, because it didn’t take long for Morgan to get them into Reid’s bed, kissing and touching him gently. He frowned when he removed Reid’s shirt, thumb stroking absently along the bandage just beside his nipple.

“I hate seeing you hurt,” Morgan admitted quietly after a moment, and Reid smiled softly, stroking his palm over Morgan’s buzzed scalp.

“I’m not so fond of it either,” he admitted lightheartedly, and this was easy. Even if Reid was shirtless, lying below his longtime friend and colleague, the careful caring and concern wasn’t anything new between them. Morgan laughed then, a low, hearty sound before he leaned over and took Reid’s nipple into his mouth.

Reid groaned, arching against the other man’s body. His whole body was sensitive, always had been, but his nipples were especially so, and Reid found himself shivering at the reminder that Andrew had threatened to cut them off. Still, he forced himself to shove that memory aside, focusing on the way that Morgan licked and sucked his nipple, punctuating it with a sharp bite that made Reid groan even more loudly, almost feeling the blood rushing to his cock.

After a thorough couple of minutes, Morgan moved to his other nipple, a dark hand skimming across Reid’s pale, slender stomach. Even though Morgan had admitted he’d never been with a man before, he didn’t seem at all fazed by the lack of breasts and curves. As Spencer cupped the back of his head encouragingly, he found himself wondering where Morgan had found that sense of comfort, found himself absently wondering if the other man spent his free time watching gay porn, or—

Morgan pulled away unexpectedly, sitting up as he straddled Reid’s hips with a knowing grin. “You’re thinking so loud I can almost hear you,” he scolded, smiling as he reached down to the hem of his own shirt and pulled it over his head. And for a moment, Reid wasn’t thinking of anything except Morgan’s perfectly-sculpted chest. He groaned, his eyes riveted by the sight, and he reached up and touched the hard muscle absently.

“What’re you thinking about?” Morgan asked idly after a moment, not missing the way Reid’s eyes darkened with lust when they looked at him. It was a reaction he was quite pleased with, if he did say so himself. He worked hard to maintain his musculature, and the attention he got for it was a pleasant reward, though nothing compared to the way that his strength and stamina had saved his life so many times in the field.

Reid stared at his chest for another long moment before finally tearing his eyes away, meeting Morgan’s gaze again.

“I was thinking you’re the fucking sexiest guy I’ve ever been this naked with,” Reid said candidly, and Morgan couldn't help but laugh at the uncharacteristic words. Despite everything that had happened, part of him still had a difficult time believing that Reid was sexually experienced, but the unexpected candor seemed to throw that doubt right out of the water.

“I dunno. Some of those guys whose pictures I saw…they looked pretty sexy to me,” Morgan said after a moment, his tone teasing. Reid either missed the teasing behind the tone or refused to rise to the bait.

“None of them could hold a candle to you,” Reid said seriously, his voice unsteady. He lowered his eyes, suddenly uncertain. “Are you sure you want to do this with me? That you don’t want to find some…equally sexy man to do this with? Because…you could have anyone you wanted. Honestly.”

Morgan found himself endeared by the sudden uncertainty—it was so Reid, the flustered shyness that Morgan recognized so easily. He was beginning to reconcile the Reid he knew with the Reid that had been revealed on this case. Beginning to see that the unexpected sexual side of Spencer Reid wasn’t at odds with his awkward personality but was somehow a complimentary part of it. Morgan grinned.

“Jeez, show a man your abs and he freaks out on you,” he teased softly, and Reid met his eyes with a frown that morphed after a second into a smile. Morgan caught his hand and leaned over, placing a soft kiss on the knuckles.

“You need to relax, Reid,” Morgan said after a moment, soothingly. “I’m exactly where I want to be. And you’re pretty sexy yourself, you know. And not just what’s up here.” He touched his fingers to Reid’s temple. “Although the way you can pull any scrap of random knowledge out of there is pretty sexy in itself.”

Reid opened his mouth, looking for a beat like he was going to argue or maybe quote some statistic, but after a moment he seemed to quell the urge and just nodded, smiling softly. He reached out and wrapped his hand around Morgan’s waist, pulling him down for another kiss.

Morgan smiled into the kiss, letting Reid have his way—but after a moment of taking charge, Reid seemed to draw back, surrendering control of the kiss to Morgan. Morgan didn’t mind that at all; he cupped Reid’s chin in his hand, mindful of his injured neck, and kissed him deeply, but there was something very hard and very persistent poking into him. It was novel, feeling another man’s erection against his, knowing that he’d been the cause of it. He was surprised by how much the palpable proof of Reid’s arousal turned him on.

After a long moment, Morgan pulled away, leaving both of them breathless as he scooted down a little to rest on Reid’s thighs, reaching for the button of Reid’s pants. He met Reid’s eyes after a moment, looking for any uncertainty in them, but all he saw was lust.

“Okay?” he asked as he toyed with the button. Reid drew in a shuddering breath.

“You’re in the driver’s seat, Morgan,” he breathed after a moment. “You can do anything you want with me.”

Morgan chuckled softly. “You might come to regret saying those words,” he warned.

Reid smiled wickedly. “I doubt that.”

The gentle teasing was all the encouragement that Morgan needed; he undid the button and then pulled down the zipper, and with a bit of maneuvering, managed to help Reid out of his pants, Reid kicking them the rest of the way off. This was novel too, this gentle, knowing teasing; Morgan wasn’t used to being with anyone he knew as well as he knew Reid, and he felt like that should have scared him, but it didn’t.

The move left Morgan in just his jeans and Reid in a pair of light blue boxer briefs—and Morgan took a moment to just take it all in, to notice the way Reid’s erection strained against the fabric. After a moment, he reached out experimentally to stroke Reid through his underwear.

Oh,” Reid groaned breathily, head rolling back. That first touch always got him, and even though fabric, it was amplified by the realization that this was Morgan doing this, touching him. After a moment, though, Reid forced himself to look back up at Morgan, to take in the other man’s expression of bewilderment at his first, experimental strokes of Reid’s cock.

After a long moment, though, Morgan froze, his body going stock-still. Reid noticed immediately, his arousal forgotten as he sat up. He reached out to touch Morgan’s arm before he thought better of it, reluctantly pulling his hand away. He couldn’t deny that his heart was racing; his first concern was for Morgan’s mental stability, but the second was the chilling fear that Morgan had realized men weren’t his thing after all.

“Hey,” Reid said softly, trying to break Morgan out of whatever memory had snatched him away. “Are you okay?”

The words seemed to get through to Morgan; after a long moment, he managed to pull in a shuddering mouthful of air, his eyes falling closed as he took several more deep, uneven breaths in an obvious attempt to calm himself. Reid remained still, not sure how to comfort the other man, not sure if he could.

After a long, silent minute, Morgan sighed and settled back onto Reid’s thighs, though he made no attempt to move away. It seemed to take an eternity before he opened his eyes and reached out to cup Reid’s cheek gently, looking down at him from his higher vantage point.

“I know…you said…go slow,” Morgan said after a moment, his tone tentative, clearly expending an extreme amount of effort even trying to get his words out. “But I dunno…that I can do slow.”

Reid searched Morgan’s eyes for a moment, trying to search for a sign of what the other man wanted from him. Morgan’s words were so vague, so open to interpretation that it was hard to tell—and the fact that he wasn’t pulling away, remained straddling Reid’s thighs, made the moment even more confusing. It was obvious enough that they’d pushed things too far, somehow; Reid wasn’t sure what had triggered it, but there was no mistaking that Morgan was remembering something incredibly unpleasant.

“Do you want to stop?” Reid ventured after a moment when Morgan gave him no other clues to go on. The older man just shook his head adamantly. “Morgan, you don’t have to feel obligated to finish what you started. We can stop whenever you need.”

Morgan shook his head again, frustrated, seemingly fighting to find the words to express what he wanted. “I don’t want to stop,” he insisted. “I just want to…change gears.”

Reid raised an eyebrow. Continuing the car metaphor, of course. It was obvious enough that Morgan didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want to address the dark place he’d just gone to in his mind. Reid took a deep breath.

“Okay. You’re in charge, Morgan.”

Morgan rolled his eyes at the obvious attempt to reassure him of his power in the situation, although part of him appreciated the effort, as clumsy as it was. He slid off the bed determinedly.

Reid was worried for a moment that Morgan had changed his mind, that he did want to stop, but instead Morgan just began unbuttoning his jeans, pushing them down his thighs. His teasing tone had done its job to break the thick tension.

“Take those off,” Morgan indicated after a second, and Reid scrambled to obey, shucking his underwear quickly and tossing them over the side of the bed. He would have done anything Morgan said at that moment, anything to dispel the dark cloud that had formed behind the other man’s eyes.

Standing there in his black boxers, Morgan eyed Reid for long enough to make him feel slightly self-conscious. He almost wanted to cover himself—but it wasn’t apprehension or even mere curiosity with which Morgan was eyeing his nude body. There was a healthy helping of interest in there, and that allowed Reid to stand his ground, still under Morgan’s apprising gaze. After a long moment, Morgan smiled.

“Yep. You’re…definitely pretty sexy yourself, pretty boy,” Morgan affirmed after a moment, and Reid couldn’t help his blush then, covered his face with his hands to try to hide his reaction. Morgan laughed, though it was still a little shaky, moving to sit on the edge of the bed again. He grabbed both Reid’s hands by his wrists, pulling them away from his face and stealing another kiss.

“I love that you can call me ‘fucking sexy’ without breaking a sweat but the moment I say it back, you turn red as a lobster,” he said after he pulled away, his tone all amusement. Reid smiled gently.

“Call it a character flaw.”

Morgan laughed again, surprised how at ease he felt with the other man, despite the awkwardness his moment of hesitation had caused. After a thoughtful pause, he eyed Reid again.

“Thank you,” he managed after a moment, his tone still awkward. “For not…”

He couldn’t manage to finish his thought, but Reid seemed to understand his meaning all the same.

“Any time,” Reid affirmed lightly, although there was a tension underlying his tone, like he wasn’t quite sure how to proceed. Morgan took a deep breath; because he did want to proceed, didn’t want to let Carl Buford control his life anymore, not when he’d finally worked up the courage to even get this far. And not when he knew backing down now would hurt Reid, even though he’d be understanding about it.

“Do you have…?”

“There are condoms and lube in that drawer,” Reid indicated after a moment, pointing to the drawer on his nightstand. Morgan nodded, finding the items without much preamble before rolling back onto the bed, tossing them onto the comforter and blanketing Reid’s body with his own.

This was better, Morgan acknowledged, this was more comfortable for him. It was something not tainted by a single bad memory, him on top and pinning a perfectly willing partner to the bed. Not like the experimental touches to Spencer’s cock, the bizarre uncertainty of the moment that had immediately brought him back to something he didn’t want to remember.

What was new, though, was the press of Reid’s erect cock against his own as he pressed down against the other man. The moment he’d seen Reid fully nude, he’d wanted to touch that rigid column of flesh, unhindered by clothing between them, but he’d forced himself to deny the urge, conscious of the fact that he might react badly, as he nearly had just minutes prior. And if he was honest with himself, there was another part of him that still recoiled at the thought, at the idea of touching another man’s cock like that. Even though he wanted to, something was holding him back.

He ground his hips down against Reid’s, his boxers still between them; somehow, he hadn’t had the courage to remove them yet, even though he’d never been self-conscious about being nude before. The younger man moaned against his lips, thrusting up against him, and the slide of Reid’s cock against his was heavenly, even with the layer of fabric between them. As he kissed Reid, Morgan was able to forget the dark thoughts, was able to lose himself in the plush sweetness of Reid’s lips.

Morgan didn’t hesitate then as he grasped the waistband of his boxers with one hand, sliding them over his hips and wriggling out of them. And finally, his cock pressed up against Reid’s without any barrier, and they both groaned into each other’s mouths.

After a long moment, Morgan pulled back, looking down at the younger man. Reid lay back against the pillows, his hair disheveled, his lips red and swollen, his face flushed. The bandage on his neck was the only thing that marred the image of obvious need and arousal, and Reid’s evident enthusiasm went a long way to keep Morgan from having second thoughts.

Morgan followed Reid’s eyes down their nude bodies to where their cocks lay nestled next to each other, and he sucked in a sharp breath at the picture they made together. Reid actually groaned audibly.

“Oh God,” he said, his voice unsteady, sounding more like he was musing out loud than really speaking to Morgan. “I want to suck your dick so badly right now.”

Morgan let out a noise halfway between a laugh and a groan. It was rare, in his experience, that women were so vocal—or so enthusiastic—about sucking dick. And as appealing as that image was, his dick disappearing between Reid’s impossibly pink, plush lips, he knew that if he let that happen, he’d never get around to fucking the other man—and if he were truthful with himself, he wasn’t fully confident in his ability to reciprocate any other way. He was only halfway convinced that he could even do that, and that was only because he’d had anal sex with a woman before, and that had taken a lot of prodding on the girl’s part before he’d been able to agree.

“Next time,” he said lightly, his voice thick with arousal—although it wasn’t really a promise, because all the doubts Morgan had just then were the same ones that would be there the next time. “I want to fuck you, and we’ll never make it there if I let you do that.”

Reid groaned somewhere around when Morgan said the word fuck, and Morgan wasn’t even sure he’d heard or processed the rest of what Morgan had said. After a moment, Reid moved to roll over beneath him, but when Morgan caught on to what he was trying to do, he grabbed Reid by the shoulder before he even registered what he was doing, rolling Reid back onto his back. Reid looked up at him questioningly.

“Like this,” Morgan said after a moment, a tone of finality in his voice. “I need to see your face.”

Reid nodded slowly, his eyes searching Morgan’s, but he didn't press, much to Morgan’s relief. It was a fixation he’d had for a long time in his teens and early twenties, the fear of hurting his partner. He’d gotten over it as he’d slowly learned that sex wasn’t always the shame-filled, painful thing he’d thought it was, but this was a whole new ball game. He needed to see Spencer’s face, or he’d never be able to go through with this.

“Okay,” Reid agreed breathily, lifting his legs to give Morgan access to what he wanted. Morgan settled between Reid’s legs, taking in the sight of the other man spread wantonly for him. He groaned softly, resting his head against Reid’s knee for a moment as he tried to keep himself from cumming on the spot. He’d always been afraid of this, afraid that if he let himself acknowledge it, he’d find that men did it for him more than women ever had.

It seemed that fear hadn’t been unfounded.

After a moment, Reid’s hand stroked Morgan’s bare scalp. “Okay?” he questioned softly after a moment, and Morgan looked up and met Reid’s worried gaze. It was clear in Reid’s eyes that he was one more moment of hesitation from stopping this for Morgan’s own good.

“Yes,” he assured the other man, and this time he really meant it. “Just trying to make sure this doesn’t end before we even get started.”

Reid laughed at that, wrapping a leg around Morgan, pressing his heel into Morgan’s lower back as he handed Morgan the tube of lubricant. Morgan smiled as he took it, finding Reid’s obvious eagerness made it much easier to avoid worrying about what he was doing.

Slowly, he poured lubricant on his fingers, dripping some onto Reid’s entrance. Reid twitched as the cold substance touched his flesh then laughed softly, spreading his legs further as he waited for Morgan.

Experimentally, Morgan rubbed his finger around the puckered entrance before sliding it inside to the first knuckle. The younger man’s body yielded to him easily, and he slid the digit all the way inside, moving it gently. Reid let out a soft sigh, like the air being let out of a balloon, and he pressed back against the intrusion. Morgan crooked his finger experimentally, moving it unsuccessfully a few times before he found what he’d been searching for and heard Reid moan loudly, writhing beneath his fingers. He took a moment to recover before looking at Morgan with an accusatory glare.

“You know way too much about what you’re doing,” he complained breathily, although his tone was teasing. “Please don’t tell me that you’ve been studying gay porn, because then I’ll start imagining you watching it, and this really will be over before it starts.”

Morgan snorted. “Fine, I won’t tell you then.”

Reid laughed breathily, arching against Morgan’s hesitant hand. “You’re not going to hurt me,” Reid said, tone uncomfortably perceptive. “Come on.”

Morgan gave in to the gentle prodding and added another finger, and after the initial resistance, they slid in easily. Reid’s eyes fell closed as he moved, seemingly unconsciously, back against the intrusion, making a low sound that was almost a purr. Morgan watched Reid’s face carefully, but Reid hadn’t been lying; his expression was all contentment and pleasure as Morgan’s fingers moved inside him, punctuated by occasional moans as Morgan found his prostate. Seeing how much Reid was enjoying it was incredibly hot.

Finally, Morgan added a third finger, and Reid groaned, hips undulating against the pressure. After a few gentle thrusts of Morgan’s fingers, Reid’s eyes snapped open and met Morgan’s, his pupils dilated with obvious arousal.

Please, Morgan,” Reid begged after a moment. Morgan smiled softly as he continued to move his fingers.

“Please what?” he prodded with a wicked grin. Reid groaned, flushing deep red.

“Fuck me,” he finally breathed out, face burning. Morgan smiled, endeared by the paradox of Reid’s needy forwardness with his awkward shyness. He did, however, remove his fingers and grab a condom, ripping it open and rolling it expertly onto his dick. He made sure to coat himself with more lubricant before positioning himself, pressing in slowly as he watched Reid’s face for any sign of discomfort.

Reid groaned at the pressure, unable to hide a slight wince—and Morgan stilled for a few seconds, trying to calm his own moment of almost-panic, giving the other man time to adjust. He reached out and stroked Reid’s cheek gently. “Sorry,” he murmured softly.

Reid just shook his head, wrapping his legs around Morgan’s body and digging his heels into Morgan’s back, as if trying to prevent the other man from retreating. He opened his eyes slowly.

“Don’t be sorry. It’s a little uncomfortable at first—and in case you didn’t notice, you’re fucking huge—but trust me when I say I’m still loving every second. So just move.”

Morgan smiled widely, unable to help it. “Did you just attempt to divert my attention by complimenting my dick?” he teased.

Reid smiled unabashedly. “Yes. Did it work?”

Morgan thrust the rest of the way into the other man’s body, and Reid moaned, throwing his head back and tightening his legs around Morgan’s waist. Morgan groaned softly as well at the feeling of sinking into Reid’s tight heat.

Morgan moved slowly at first, tentatively—partly because he was afraid of hurting Reid, but partly because the other man was so unbelievably tight that he was certain that if he moved any faster, he’d cum on the spot. He watched Reid’s face carefully as he moved, looking for signs of discomfort, but after the initial push, Reid’s face was all beautiful, needy pleasure.

Morgan rolled his hips slowly, finding a rhythm, and he couldn’t stop staring down into Reid’s face, his slightly parted lips, his flushed skin, his hooded eyes. It was both beautiful and unbelievable for Morgan to behold the sight, because this wasn’t something he’d ever been able to convince his mind a real person, someone besides a paid actor in an adult video, would ever find so pleasurable. And when he’d done it with a girl, she hadn’t been so forward and wanton in her pleasure.

But it was clear that Reid did enjoy it, was obvious in the way he was rolling his hips back against Morgan’s thrusts, the way his heels dug into the older man’s back, as if trying to pull Morgan impossibly deeper inside himself. Morgan groaned, finally assured that not a fiber of Reid’s body or mind was objecting to this experience.

Morgan finally let his guard down, burying his face in the nape of Reid’s neck with another groan, the movement forcing Reid to lift his hips even higher to meet Morgan’s thrusts. He breathed a soft sigh into Reid’s neck—one of relief, a release of tension he hadn’t realized had remained in his body even after he’d assured Reid he wanted to proceed.

Reid’s hand moved to cup the back of Morgan’s skull, and there was something absurdly gentle about the gesture, like he was trying to reassure the other man. His moans were loud in Morgan’s ear, and he let out a litany of very un-Reid-like curses and pleas, which would have made Morgan laugh if they weren’t so busy shooting right to his dick.

He pulled back finally, resting back on his knees as he grasped Reid’s thighs, unlacing the other man’s legs from around him as he sped up the rhythm of his thrusts. Reid moaned, fisting his hands in the sheets, his eyes closed as he squirmed helplessly. The most palpable proof of his desire was the way his hardened length lay rigid against his stomach, weeping a steady stream of pre-cum even though neither of them had so much as touched his dick.

Morgan marveled at that for a moment as he moved his hips, the way that Reid hadn’t even made a move to touch himself despite how hard and needy he obviously was. Maybe, Morgan thought, he was the type who wouldn’t without his partner telling him to, and that thought sent a surprising streak of heat straight through Morgan’s body.

“Touch yourself,” he breathed raggedly, and Reid’s eyes shot open, meeting Morgan’s meaningfully.

“Don’t…need to,” Reid breathed out through clenched teeth, and Morgan felt breathless for a second, clutching Reid’s thighs even harder.

“So you can get off just from this? Without even touching your dick?” There was a low, seductive lilt to Morgan’s voice as he said the words—he wasn’t averse to a little dirty talk to get his partner in the mood. Reid groaned, his eyes falling shut again as his dick jerked a little against his stomach, and although he didn’t respond verbally, the deep flush that colored his cheeks was answer enough.

Morgan smiled, picking up his pace, fully cognizant in a second to the way Reid had responded to his words. The reaction bolstered him to continue.

“You love this don’t you?” he said in a breathless growl, though he couldn’t keep the slight tone of wonderment out of his voice. “You love my dick inside you, fucking you like this.”

Reid whimpered, thrashing against the sheets, biting his lower lip hard enough that Morgan was surprised he hadn’t drawn blood.

“Cum for me, pretty boy,” he said breathlessly, using his familiar endearment for the man—and that was all Reid seemed to need, because his dick jerked again, shooting ropey threads of cum along his stomach as he moaned. Morgan watched, so transfixed he almost forgot to keep moving his hips as Reid’s orgasm seemed to go on forever, his dick twitching, untouched, against his stomach as it continued to leak.

After what seemed like an eternity, Reid’s body fell still, sweaty and spent against the sheets. Still, he wrapped his legs around Morgan’s waist again, urging Morgan deeper inside him.

“Don’t you dare…fucking stop,” Reid breathed after a moment, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes, and Morgan was startled for a moment, didn't even realize that he’d stopped moving, so spellbound he’d been by Reid’s release. For a moment, his own pleasure had been secondary as his mind wondered at the way Reid’s body had reacted to this…this thing that Morgan had never been able to truly associate with pleasure before.

But the moment Reid spoke, it seemed to bring him back to his body—and he felt a sense of urgency, a humming under his skin as his dick seemed to throb inside the other man’s body, begging for release. He groaned, beginning to move again, and Reid’s movements seemed more calculated then, having already found his own release, the way he undulated against Morgan seeming geared purely toward bringing the other man the greatest amount of pleasure possible.

And still, as Morgan continued to fuck him, he released a steady stream of low, gentle moans—they’d lost their urgency but he was still so clearly enjoying being fucked, even though he was already so clearly spent. It was to that—Reid’s low groans, the deliberate movements of his hips—that Morgan finally came as well, emptying himself into the condom as he thrust unevenly into the body beneath him.

It was with the barest bit of conscious thought that remained in Morgan’s mind that he kept himself from resting all his weight on the man beneath him. It was second nature when he’d been with women, but even though he didn’t think of Reid as fragile or delicate, he was still conscious of the fact that he outweighed the younger man by quite a few pounds. He rested there, half on the mattress and half atop Reid, catching his breath for a long moment before he finally pulled out. Reid allowed his legs to fall to the bed slowly, sucking in long, deep breaths.

Neither of them spoke; Morgan couldn’t even begin to think of words, couldn’t work out precisely what was going on in his brain. Confusion played a big part, along with reluctant acceptance, and—right alongside that—singing elation.

Confusion because part of him still felt uncomfortable about what he’d just done, felt strange, as though he no longer fit properly in his skin.

Reluctant acceptance because he couldn’t remember being that aroused in his life, couldn’t remember having ever experienced that kind of intensity from sex, despite the fact that he’d been apprehensive, almost frightened. Acceptance because this seemed to confirm his every suspicion and fear that his dick responded far more strongly to men than it did to women.

The elation came from everywhere, from so many sources. From the fact that it felt so right to be with Reid, who’d known when to be concerned and when to sit back and let Morgan work through something on his own. Elation because he hadn’t let that moment of panic—that flashback to the first time in the cabin with Carl—derail the experience. Elation because how could he not feel that way after seeing it broadcast on Reid’s face as he came?

And yet Morgan couldn’t seem to find the words to say any of that out loud, so instead he grasped Reid’s hand, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles before sliding out of bed and padding toward the bathroom. He sensed Reid’s gaze following his, clearly apprehensive. He wanted to say something to reassure the other man that he wasn’t freaking out—not too much, anyway—but he couldn’t force any words out of his mouth.

Instead he discarded the used condom in the bathroom and made quick work of cleaning himself off before bringing a wet washcloth back to the bedroom where Reid still lay, eyeing the bathroom door with his body in a tense line. Morgan handed him the wet cloth with a shaky release of breath, meeting his eyes meaningfully, trying to say everything he wanted to express to Reid with just his eyes.

Reid took the washcloth, not breaking Morgan’s gaze for a long moment as he searched Morgan’s eyes, trying to confirm what he was feeling. After a long moment, he finally looked away, focusing awkwardly on cleaning himself up. Morgan’s heart was pounding in his chest as he couldn’t help but watch Reid wipe his own cum off his stomach, his now soft length. It was with some trepidation that Reid set the cloth aside on the nightstand for the time being, turning to meet Morgan’s gaze again. He swallowed thickly and took a deep breath before he finally steeled himself to speak.

“Are you okay? Or have I just irreparably ruined our entire relationship by letting you go through with that?” Reid finally managed to ask, swallowing past a thick lump in his throat.

Morgan sat back down on the bed reclined back against the pillows, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath to try to calm his racing heart, trying to find a way to both be truthful and reassure Reid. Reid didn’t deserve the emotional baggage Morgan was carrying around, not after the week he’d just had, and not after the mind-blowing sex. After a long moment, he reached out and grabbed Reid’s hand again, squeezing it reassuringly.

“It was good,” he assured the other man, and he mentally smacked himself as he said it, because it sounded like he was describing some friend’s mediocre cooking, just trying to be polite. He tried again, deciding tentatively that honesty was the best route to go with Reid. Reid was a profiler and knew Morgan extremely well; he’d know immediately if Morgan lied to him, even if it was to spare his feelings.

“It was…too good, and I feel guilty about thinking it was so good,” Morgan continued reluctantly. “And I know that that’s irrational, but I can’t stop it.”

Reid’s thumb ran soothing circles along the soft skin on the back of Morgan’s hand. “Okay,” he managed finally, his voice thick with uncertainty. “So where does that leave us?”

Morgan sighed, lowering his head and rubbing his eyes with his free hand. It wasn’t an easy question to answer.

“I don’t want to saddle you with all my shit, Reid,” he said finally. Reid’s response to that was immediate.

“Morgan, look at me,” Reid said seriously, and suddenly his tone was filled with a sense of certainty and authority so strong that Morgan didn’t even think, just responded. He opened his eyes and looked over at Reid, propped up on his elbow next to him. “Do you want to continue this?”

Morgan found himself at a loss for words. “I…” he couldn’t continue, his mouth suddenly inexplicably dry.

“No, Morgan. This must sound ridiculous coming from me, but don’t think, don’t rationalize. Just feel,” Reid instructed without hesitation. “Forget the baggage, forget whatever obstacles you’re worrying about. What do you want? Do you want to continue this?”

Morgan found a thousand objections in his mind but heedful of Reid’s words, he forgot them, just for a moment.

“I…yes,” he finally managed to breathe. And Reid’s face was deadly serious; it was the face he used during hostage negotiations or trying to talk an UNSUB into lowering his weapon. That thought almost made Morgan release a totally inappropriate laugh.

“Then shouldn’t it be my decision whether or not I want to be ‘saddled with your shit’?”

Morgan opened his mouth to argue but he found he had no ammunition with which to do so. He couldn’t tell Reid it wasn’t his choice to make, and if he even tried, he was sure he’d be at the receiving end of a long lecture about free will. And he knew how that would end, too.

“I don’t know how much I could ever give you, Reid,” Morgan finally admitted, chest tightening even as he spoke the words. He bit his lip. “…sexually,” he added after a moment, tentatively.

Absurdly, Reid smiled at that, sitting up a little more so he could place a chaste peck against Morgan’s lips.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said with a sense of conviction Morgan didn’t feel. But strangely, Morgan almost believed him.


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Roxy Taggart

Nationality Slovak Republic
Date of Birth January 6th, 1987

Bellina and Roxy Get A Hard Anal Workout

Bellina and Roxy are two absolutely stunning, athletic, hard bodied MILF, sexual sirens, who are working out, when their trainer decides to motivate them, by expertly licking and fingering their pussies, as the moan appreciatively. Having ignited their lust, they ravenously, savor sucking his jumbo-sized Johnsons, with gluttonous, sluttish avarice, gusto, and masterful, oral artistry. He then brutishly pounds his hefty, beef baton into Bellina’s ass, in doggie, as she moans and yelps, with impassioned zeal, while Roxy masturbates, enjoying the show. Then he diligently drills his power tool, into Roxy’s ass in missionary, while she moans and squeals ecstatically, while Bellina sucks the hard nipples, of her naturally, perfect tits. After Bellina greedily sucks Roxy’s ass juice, from his dork, he fervently drives it into her ass, in spoon, making her moan and cry out, in decadent exultation. Being a stud built for two, Roxy sits on his face, as he tries to eat his way to her heart, while Bellina wildly slams her ass, onto his towering tool, in reverse cowgirl, filling the room, with their rhapsodic moans. Then it is Roxy’s turn, to furiously slam her pretty pussy, then asshole, onto his dynamic dick, in reverse cowgirl, then cowgirl, as she moans and screeches, in sluttish jubilation. He continues his anal assault on Roxy, in spoon, zealously drilling his donkey dick into her, as she moans and screeches, in depraved rapture, until he covers their tits, with a deluge of creamy cum.

Length: 34 Minutes Pics: 24

Roxy's a Scintillating Redhead Sexual Siren

Roxy is a scintillating, drop dead gorgeous, redheaded, sexual siren, with a killer, toned, taut, all natural, T&A body, that oozes lust, from every pore, who could turn on a rock, at fifty paces, truly an 11! Bewitched, by her intoxicating beauty, her man hungrily kisses, caresses, and undresses her luscious body, with impassioned zeal, then fervently finger fucks, and expertly licks, her pretty, bald honey pot, as she writhes and moans ecstatically. She reciprocates, by voraciously sucking his beefy, tongue depressor, with whorish, wolfish hunger, gusto, and adroit, oral aptitude. With her passions set ablaze, she mounts his fuck pole, in cowgirl, as her fine, firm, round ass zealously humps him, like a jockey in the Derby, racing towards her lecherous Valhalla, while moaning and crying out, in orgiastic exultation. Continuing her raucous ride, in reverse cowgirl, Roxy vehemently slams her ravenous cunt, onto his towering tool, while moaning and wailing, in decadent jubilation. After she greedily sucks her pussy juice, from his dork, he barbarously slams his beef baton into her, in doggie, making her moan and howl, with raw, unchained, primordial, bestial passions. He continues pulverizing her pussy, in spoon, brutishly drilling his pork sword into her, as she moans and screeches, in a frenzied, cock crazed revelry. Following, some frantic titty fucking, he drenches her sublime, heavenly hooters, with a monsoon, of creamy cum, leaving her happily, glazed and dazed.

Length: 25 Minutes Pics: 317

One Orgy and a Funeral

Cindy is an arresting, big titted blonde MILF officiating over a funeral when she decides to get the mourners, herself, another foxy blonde with more than ample breasts, Roxy, a very appealing, big boobed brunette, and a couple of studs, to drown their sorrows, with some wine in order to help vacillate their succumbing to her promiscuous overtures made while lying upon the coffin, wantonly undressing, gyrating, and fondling herself as she begs them to join her. Unable to resist the pull, of her sexual magnetism, one stud is soon lavishly licking her pussy, eliciting her lecherous moans, while Cindy and Roxy, earnestly suck the other guy’s prodigious prick, with libidinous gusto and glee. Then, with their smoldering passions, set ablaze, and a third stud magically appearing, things quickly devolve, into the most, debauched, degenerate, and decadent funeral ever witnessed, as this trio of titanic titted, sexual sirens, revel, in having potent pricks, robustly pounded, into their voracious, bald cunts, and gluttonous mouths, in doggie, spoon, missionary, cowgirl, and reverse cowgirl, in this obscenely, perverse jamboree, as they moan and cry out, in depraved exultation, which is only muffled, by their repeatedly licking each other’s quivering quims, or sucking slut juice, off of a virile cock, often while on the coffin. The guys finally send geysers of goo, raining down, into the mouths, and all over the faces, of these beguiling beauties.

Length: 26 Minutes Pics: 84

Frenzied Group Fuckfest

This silly porn spoof has titanic titted, newscaster Jasmin, interviewing blonde tiny titted Anna, who is managing a sex shop. Bellina, and Roxy are part of the staff, and soon all four girls, and the two studs present, get down to business, with everyone, doing everyone, for some fabulous, frenzied fucking. Bellina & Roxy wantonly suck the studs, with sluttish wolfish hunger, while Jasmin and Anna, kiss and caress each other passionately. Then, Jasmin ferociously slams her voracious cunt, onto one fuckpole, while Roxy gets a beef baton, brutishly pounded into her, in doggie, filling the room, with their moans and wails, of sluttish jubilation. Bellina & Roxy moan ecstatically, as they go for a wild ride in reverse cowgirl, while Jasmine and Anna do each other, before Jasmine gets barbarously plowed, in missionary, moaning and crying out, in salacious exultation. The girls keep rotating, as they fuck, in every possible position, while using vibrators, to please themselves, and each other, moaning and shrieking, with unchained bestial passions. Suffering from penis envy, Jasmin straps on a dildo, and brutishly pounds, her faux prick, into Anna, with a savage fury, that puts the guys to shame, making Anna moan and screech, in whorish rapture, then one stud, decides to fuck Jasmin, while she is still fucking Anna, for a very different sex sandwich. The stud’s finally hose the girls down, raining creamy cum down onto their tits, and into their mouths.

Length: Minutes Pics: 41


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A perfect mix that surpasses the boundaries of imagination between a radiant, pure, elegant Goddess and the mischievous mind of the Devil himself. You can`t miss out on this sexy adventure I am laying on the table and what I ask in return is a lot but it`s worth it. I turn strong men into weak sexual cock loving little sissies. Does that count for a sexual talent?. My grace, beauty and lady-like attitude capture you at first sight. And once I got u, I`m going to unleash the hottest hell upon your mind and body because I like to be Rough, I like bare sex, I am a Top in every sense of the word and I will send u into oblivion, making u forever addicted to me. Lack of communication, lack of an open mind, rudeness, simple thinking. There are many things that turn us on or off. In the end it`s pretty much like this: You take care of me, I take care of u. I am going to wait for you barely covered by the sexiest lingerie, wearing the hottest high heels and driven by pure instincts. A Mistress by nature, a seducer and a courtesan, I OWN your body and soul and unleash you from the burden of masculinity, turning you into my obedient, grateful slave.


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