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I hear a knock on my office door. As I open the door I am
greeted by the sight of two sensuous students, Tina and
Linda. Tina is a brunette with large, dark, inviting eyes.
She has a slender figure, with small, firm breasts, a tiny
waist, and a nicely rounded ass. Linda is a voluptuous
blond. She has a beautiful face, framed by long blond hair.
Her figure flows from her abundant mammaries, to a slender
waist and then expands into her full, round ass. Both these
freshman nursing students really fill out their student
nurse uniforms. They both are freshman nursing students in
my anatomy class. Unfortunately, neither of them are doing
well in the class. I do welcome their presence in lecture,
because they wear short skirts to class. Since the lectures
are given in a large ampitheater and these two do not keep
their legs together, I have a very nice view of their crotch
all during class. I often have thought about screwing these
two, but no opportunity has presented itself. That is until
now.

“Hello Tina and Linda, What can I do for you?”

“Professor, we know that we are failing anatomy. We want to
know if there is anything we can do to improve our grade in
your course. Perhaps you could give us some special
tutoring.”

“Well Tina, I think that special tutoring sessions can be
arranged. After all, its still early in the semester
so you both still have time to raise your grade. Both
of you come into my office and sit down.”

As I begin my tutoring session, I explain to the girls that
they must come in twice a week for the remainder of the
semester to pass the course. They quickly agree. I ask
them some questions to break the ice:

“Tell me girls, how old are you?”

Tina replies “I’m 18.”

“Me too.” adds Linda

“Have either of you spent much time away from home before
coming to college?”

“No” and “No” are their replies.

“I realize that it is difficult being away from home for the
first time. Tell me, are you comfortable discussing the
human body?”

“What do you mean?” asks Linda

“Are you embarrassed by talking about the human body?”

“No”

“Are you embarrassed by looking at the human body?”

“Sometimes.” answers Linda

“Never” replies Tina.

“Are you comfortable with your own bodies?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” answers Linda.

“Linda, have you looked at your own body in the mirror?”

“Well, yes, everybody does that.”

“How about you Tina?”
…End of the part1. To be continued..

As I said, the Palace is a good place for orgies. I’ll skip the require-
ments for getting in, except to say that you need a clean test report from your
doctor, dated within a week.
This Saturday, my wife and I had gone to the Palace, after getting young
Lisa to babysit our 18 month old. We had arrived earlier in the evening, and
now I was heading towards the bar in the second lounge. I needed a break as
much as a glass of OJ. I’d just come in from the pool, after helping a man
fuck his wife. She’d wanted a fuck-sandwich, so I pumped her pussy while he
filled her butt. She was a very sweet gal named Diane, and we’d all enjoyed
it. My wife was off somewhere, getting her thrills, which we’d share later
tonight after we returned home. The OJ was good, and I watched the show on
stage. A pair of girls were 69′ing each other while two guys pumped them.
These were not pros, but average guests, showing off for the crowd. People were
clapping and making approving noises as the foursome switched around into a
variety of positions. The men announced their orgasms and came inside their
ladies, and the girls continued to lick and suck each other’s pussies for a
while. The men sat back and watched. When they were done, the foursome stood
and held hands, bowing to the audience. They were glistening with sweat from
the hot lights, and their exertions. The girls’ faces were shiny with love
juices, making their smiles even sexier.
I was going to wander into the back, near the group rooms, to see if I
could find someone I knew, or someone new. As I passed a naked young lady who
was sitting on a sofa in the lounge, she put her hand on my thigh and stopped
me. Without a word she took my semi-hard cock in her mouth and began to suck
it. Sitting next to her was her husband, fucking a big-titted woman of about
forty. The gal sucking my cock was rubbing the older woman’s clit as she and
her husband fucked. On stage, several people were setting up for another show.
All around us, people were entering, leaving, or talking. Some were slowly
masturbating themselves or their partners. At one table, a woman was stroking
her partner’s cock under the table, while fingering the pussy to her right,
and carrying on a conversation with a woman across from her.
The gal sucking me was doing a great job, obviously having her fun with
my shaft. She would suck it down her throat, then lick the underside and even
lick my balls. She slid up the shaft and held the head in her mouth, swirling
her tounge around it and flicking the sensitive head and area just below. Then
down her throat again. She did this with unabashed enthusiasm, as if to show
me that she really loved to suck cock.
On stage, a lovely young redhead came out and sat down on a thick carpet,
spreading her legs to the audience. She began to masturbate, and after a few
moments, five men walked on stage and stood around her. The men began to
masturbate, offering her their cocks one at a time. The redhead liked to suck
too, and she took a huge cock down to the base, making the audience applaud
quietly.
The gal sucking me had me aroused and near orgasm, and watching the stage
show, I felt a surging deep inside. I looked down and the gal was sloppily
licking my shaft with her tounge, and rubbing it all over her face. She sucked
the head and then looked up at me, mouthing the words “come in my face”. I
couldn’t hold back. She had the head in her mouth, just as my sperm gushed out
…End of the part1. To be continued..

I’ll be waiting with “baited breath”, like the cat who ate cheese, and sat by
the mousehole.
_____
/ ‘ /
,-/-, __ __. ____ /_
(_/ / (_(_/|_/ / <_/ <_

P.S. Do you mind if I save this letter, except for your name, and use it
and my response to answer any future flames/criticism? It helps not
to have to do it twice.
P.P.S. I got the scanner, and recovered part-2. Story follows this post.
PLEASE don't get squicked, until you've finished the whole story.
THEN feel free to let me have it with both barrels. ;-}

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

IN> Frank,

IN>1. Using my last letter to respond to other critics, some
IN>probably not as friendly. I re-read the letter, and it is fine, except
IN>for my personal identity, which you should please safeguard totally, and
IN>the first paragraph. The first paragraph is not only irrelevant to the
IN>story, but also is pretty identifiable as written by me. To those who
IN>know me, that may be true of the whole thing, but they would not be able
IN>to prove anything, so go ahead.

I’ll remove the first paragraph, and anything else that points to you.

IN>2. Have not yet had time to go over “BfF I” in the detail I
IN>promised, to send you the minor typos, etc. Hope to do so today,
IN>if not, tomorrow.

I’ll wait on both stories for your criticism.

IN>3. “Bound for Fun II” – the blistering literary criticism! ;=}

IN>Anyway, I liked “BfF II” It certainly
IN>did not squick me. It dealt well with the trust issues, and the whole
IN>fascination with violence and torture as “fun” when in the real world
IN> 1) they actually go on, and
IN> 2) they are __NO fun.

Amen.

IN>Now, the literary hard part for me, is that I must tell you that you
IN>did not pull the wool over the reader’s eyes. This reader, at least.
IN>Jones is clearly too careful of Lynn’s feelings, her peripheral
IN>circulation, etc. etc. for him to actually be planning to kill her
IN>This plot reminds me of the movie “The Sting” I thought that
IN>was a fantastic movie, because it was all about a sting operation, and
IN>audience member thinks he is in on it, but in the end, gets totally
IN>taken in himself, and actually gasps when it appears that one of the good
IN>guys kills the other. Again, at least this viewer.

IN>I do not read a lot of the NC stories, except the Parker works,
IN>and so I am not too good at telling you what a NC perpetrator must “think
IN>like” in a story, but one thing is that he must be totally
IN>uncaring about the victim, except regarding leaving clues.
IN>Clues don’t really have to do with
IN>the victim, just protecting himself, but at least that as close as he gets
IN>to giving a damn about the victim. Jones is way too careful.
IN>He is also clearly too nice a guy. I really don’t know
IN>how to remedy this from the dramatic
IN>viewpoint in the story. That he is careful is okay,
IN> but that he is careful of the girl’s
IN>feelings and comfort is not. I don’t know how to get across his care,
IN>and maybe carefully and intentionally mislead the innocent reader, with
IN>statements
IN>that when read quickly look like the self-centered detail worries of a
IN>schmuck trying to cover the clues, but on rereading after the surprise
IN>ending actually may be interpreted to see that he was looking out for
IN>her all along. A difficult task,
IN>but the only way I can see to get the desired effect and leave it in 1st
IN>person.

The idea was never to pull the wool over the reader’s eyes. The Idea was
to see if you could convince the reader that “Joe” was good enough and
convincing enough to pull the wool over Lynn’s eyes. Since you don’t point
…End of the part3. To be continued..

He pulled out a deep green pair of leggings that seemed to be
short enough for her small frame.

“Thanks.” She said as he handed them over. She waited a moment
then noticed he wasn’t leaving only turning his back to her.
Taking a deep mental sigh (and another gawk at his perfect
backside) she pulled the wet dress over her head. She let it
drop to the floor after she used it to dry her still soaked
breasts. Taking a quick peek to make sure his back was still to
her, she pulled over the creamy poet’s shirt which did little to
hide her attributes. She pulled the lacings tight but her skin
could still be seen through the webbing. She sighed as she
reached for the leggings.

“Everything okay?” he asked as he heard her sigh.

“Yeah, but this shows a bit more than I’m used to.” She
shrugged as she pulled the leggings up her firm calves. They
fit like a second skin; but then that is why the shirt flowed
down to mid thigh. She could almost wear it as a dress. She
called out, “You can turn around now.” Just as she was slipping
her sandals back on her feet, he did so going to the door and
opening it for her. She picked up the dress and straightened up.
That is when she noticed beyond where he had been standing, an
old fashioned mirror. The lech! An evil thought came into her
head, and she brightened immensely. She wasn’t sure she could
pull it off but she was willing to try.

She flounced out the door ahead of him, reaching for her
severely tied lacings, loosening them considerably. Hell, he’d
already seen them so who cared? Christian ran up to her.

“Oh, cool, Mom! Can I change too??” she smiled at his
excitement. ” ‘fraid not. Only have adult sizes and this was
because you weren’t being careful, young man.” Evan broke in.

“Aw, man.” He whined before chasing someone else who hit him
with a blast of water.

She crept to the nearest ratline, climbing high up to the top
of the foresail to hang her dress to dry. She could see Evan and
a number of other crew members watching her from below. It took
a moment for her to realize she didn’t have the complete outfit
on; the belt was missing so the shirt flowed away from her body,
giving all a nice show up her shirt to her unencumbered breasts.
Curling her leg around a spar, she tucked in a tail of the
shirt. She could see Evan smirk while the others turned back to
their work.

She snaked her way back down before jumping onto the deck.

“Nice climbing.” Evan strode toward her.

“Yeah, I saw you noticing.” She laughed.

“Well, I have to earn my keep so I better head off. If you
want you can go to the forecastle deck; some lounge chairs
should be out. The crew will keep the boys occupied. I think
they’re going to have a mock battle with one of our other ships
in a bit.” He dismissed her as he turned on his heel. Shrugging
she took one last look at the view before heading toward the
ladder to the forecastle. Catching sight of the boys she called
to them, pointing where she’d be.

She settled into a chair and pulled a book out of her bag. She
read it as she looked out over the edge to the deck. The kids
were singing the theme to “Gilligan’s Island” but she guessed
any sea song would do. The breeze was snapping the sails and the
sun was warm. Perhaps this wasn’t a bad idea after all. She
laid back in the chase, her book forgotten, as she snoozed in
the sun.

It was the shadow that startled her awake. The sun’s intensity
had gotten stronger, leaving a corona around the man standing
over her.

“You know, you’ll burn if you sleep long in this sun.” His rich
baritone murmured. Evan – she should have known.

“Well then, why don’t you stand right there since you’re
blocking the sun so nicely right now.” Being facetious, she
grinned as she shook herself awake. “How long have I been
napping?”

“Long enough for us to turn back toward the harbor. We have
another run to make at 12:30.” She nodded in response.

“So how much longer?” His eyes searched hers looking to see if
there was a message between the lines. “We have about 45
minutes back.”

“Ah, I guess I should go up and get my dress down then.” She
smiled.

She scanned the deck and saw her own ne’er do wells were
scarfing down some sort of snacks. She climbed down to the main
deck then grasped the rigging. Hand over hand, she pulled
herself up to the foresail. Feeling the dress, she found it was
indeed dry. A bit stiff from the sea salt breeze, but dry. She
scurried down the lines to find that Evan had been staring up.
She’d forgotten about the little show he’d had the first time
she went up. Ah well no big deal at this point, it wasn’t
something he hadn’t already seen. She flashed a cheeky grin as
she walked past him. He nimbly followed her into the cabin.

She had her back turned when she heard the quiet click of the
door. She chose to ignore it as she bent over to remove her
shoes. She straightened up and then peeled the tights down over
her hips shimmying from side to side. She could see Evan squirm
a bit in her peripheral vision. She hopped on one foot then the
other as she slid the tights off. Grasping the hem of the long
flowing shirt, she pulled it up over her head, letting it
flutter to the ground. She turned around to meet his eyes in
the mirror. She murmured, “Do you like what you see?” somewhat
sardonically.

Evan nodded in shock, embarrassed at being caught and put at a
temporary loss for words. Heartened, she grabbed her dress, and
slipped it over her head, to let it drape lusciously over her
frame. She shimmied, coaxing it to fall over her hips, still
bestowing him an angelic smile. She bent down and picked the
clothing back up, handing it over to Evan.

“Thanks for the use of the clothes.” She grinned. He took them
from her hand, and for a moment she thought he might try to kiss
her. The thought must have shown in her eyes, for he suddenly
awoke from his stupor, his fingers gripping the cloth. “No
problem.”

She left him in the room giggling to herself as she stepped
back onto the deck. She climbed back up to her chair and pulled
out her book. Now she had a very good idea how her husband
could make it up to her.

She just hoped he could keep up.

Copyright 2003 Dryad (gbbjg@yahoo.com)

This is the first in the Tales of Home series. I don’t give a rat’s ass where you stand in this war; its here, and I’ll be damned if I’m not going to support our troops.
That being said;
This is a work of adult fiction; if you have to sneak in to see a NC-17 movie, get your sorry butt outta here.
Otherwise, enjoy, copyright is mine,(which simply means ask first) and mail me any comments/concerns good or bad.
************************************************************************

What could she do?

With a stiff upper lip and no tears, God, no tears, she had waved John off at the Norfolk pier as the USS Bataan left port bound for the Gulf.

That was 3 months ago, but now it was their anniversary. He was God knows how many miles away. The last e-mail she had gotten from him, he was somewhere in the Persian Gulf, but that was three days ago. He’d warned her that e-mail would be spotty, at best.

What could she give him? The USO was putting strict guidelines on what could be sent; and the DoD was still leery of packages.

His last e-mail was so hot. Maybe the equatorial sun was keeping his body warm, maybe the distance made him want her more, or maybe it was just the situation and his wanting to feel human again. He poured emotion, hot and deep, into the letter; told her what he would do if he were there with her. Her hand drifted up to her chest, softly brushing against her breast, bringing the nipple to attention.

Perhaps I should go re-read his letter, she thought to herself. She headed into the bedroom, where they kept the computer, and she pulled up his last e-mail.

She curled up in the chair, wiggling to get comfortable.

“Hey Angel,
I miss you. It’s starting to get hotter than hell over here. You know how it gets down in the quarry? Mid day in August, and the sun is shimmering over the ledges? All dusty and gritty and grimy. That’s what it feels like–The quarry.

At night, if I tune out the jets taking off, I can almost imagine I’m there. Bringing you down to the bottom of the quarry, where it gets all nice and cool, no matter how hot it was during the day. I imagine us there, and how I’d slowly peel your clothes off, until you were glowing naked before me in the moonlight.”

Her skin began to moisten as she squirmed at his words. She knew what was coming, so she pulled off her shirt.

She stopped suddenly, knowing exactly what to give him for their anniversary. She clicked on the digital camera, setting it to take still every 10 seconds, before she continued to read.

“I’d pull you up against me, let you feel how hard I was for you. And I’d kiss you. Kiss you so hard, you’d know how badly I wanted you. My hands would cup your ass and pull you to me, and then I’d bring them up front and play with your tits. God, I miss your tits.”

Her hands rose to her chest, squeezing and pinching her nipples the way she liked him to do. She squirmed a bit and her eyes fluttered closed. Finally, she forced her eyes to focus on the screen and continued to read.

“I’d let my tongue move down your neck, down to your tits and suck on your nipples. I can just feel my fingers on your smooth back, kneading into you as I suck. I can feel your fingers fiddling with the buttons on my shirt, pulling it out of my jeans. Your hands feel so cool against my skin, so gentle.”

She sighed softly, her head lolling to one side at his imagined nibbling. She shimmied quickly out of the rest of her clothes before settling back into the seat. She reached over to her drawer and pulled out the dildo John had gotten for her before he left. She set it next to her in the chair before continuing.

“Your skin would glow in the moonlight. Do you know how beautiful you are to me? My fingers would trace across your skin, lightly, gently. And I’d smile when you shivered. My hands would slide down your hips, smooth over that really sexy silk skirt you wear when we go to my parent’s for dinner. My fingers ruck it up and I’d fall to my knees. I can almost smell you, if I concentrate hard enough.”

Her fingers were busy, first skimming her arms, her sides, pulling up on her tits, kneading them. Her hands roamed her torso, gently teasing herself. A blush rose from her diaphragm. Her fingers dipped lower, but she waited for his direction.

“Can you feel me nuzzle your pussy? Feel my nose press up against your clit? Feel my tongue flick out against your wet pussy lips. God, you taste good. My fingers press into your cheeks, pulling you closer to me, supporting you when I feel you sway. You like it when I do that, don’t you? My tongue dipping deeper into your pussy, sucking out your juices. That’s it, moan for me, Angel. Let it go for me.”

Her fingers followed his words, tickling first her clit, then down lower into her wet tunnel. Her fingers circled her clit, pressing and pinching, then pressing further into her depths. She moaned, a moan of frustration, her eyes shut.

She could no longer focus on the words on the screen, but she remembered them. It wasn’t that hard, as much as she’d read it. With her eyes closed, she reached for the dildo.

“I can feel you shuddering, Angel. You want to come, don’t you? I love how your body is so expressive. I could flick my tongue right now, and make you come.

But that would be too easy. I lean back to watch the desire and frustration pass over your face. I take off my pants quickly, before you can truly miss me. My hands on your ass, I lift you up to me. You’re so light, like a feather; and I feel your legs encircle my waist.
Do you feel me? Can you? My desperate cock searching for your hidden warmth? Feel it thrust deeply into you? I miss the way you would cry out when I’m deep inside you.”

She pressed the dildo in, moving against it now. It wasn’t John, but it would help ease the loneliness. She flicked the switch to the quiet motor, felt it reverberate through her. She pressed it deeply, crying out for him, squirming madly in the chair, lost in the sensations he would have brought her if he were there.

“Can you feel that? Feel me swell inside you? Feel my hips bucking against you, our thighs slapping together? God, you make me want to come. I feel your pussy squeeze my cock, and I know you’re coming. It’s like a hand squeezing my cock.

And you know what? When I come back, no more condoms. When I come back, I’m not going anywhere else again. I know I said no before. But when I imagine my cum spurting into you, I feel dizzy. And all I can think is that maybe this time, you’ll get pregnant.”

Her movements quickened, as she ran through what he had written, in her head. Her fingers squeezed her breast as she wailed her orgasm. She whimpered until she turned off the vibrator, desperately trying to catch her breath. After a few minutes, when her breathing returned to normal, she scrolled through to the end of the e-mail.

“I know I said no before, babe. But I love you, and the thought of you is what gets me through all the bullshit over here. The thought of this being over, and my being home, with you, and watching you grow; You would be so beautiful, you know that?

I have to get going. I’m sorry. I love you, Amanda. Be safe,
John”

She turned off the camera, and saved it to edit later. She’d love to send all of them; but it was unlikely she could get away with that. She’d smuggle him one, maybe two, and save the rest for his return. She threw on some clothes, touching her burgeoning belly lightly. She hadn’t told him, afraid of what he’d say, afraid he’d blame her for the “accident”. Now she knew she had the perfect anniversary gift for him.

Copyright Dryad (gbbjg@yahoo.com) 2003

I am the author of this story.

I own the copyright of the story.

I am legally entitled to enter this contest.

This story has not been published prior to the contest.

I will not permit this story to be published during the
judging period.

If the story is selected as a finalist, I will permit
Calendar.atEROS to publish the story in Calendar.atEROS
through April 1st, 2003.

If the story is selected as a finalist, I will permit
Calendar.atEROS to publish the story in an ebook through
October 31st, 2003.

If the story is selected as a finalist, I will not permit
the story to be published outside of Calendar.atEROS prior
to April 1st, 2003.

I’m going insane.

The burning I feel in my gut, behind my eyes, in my groin…all crying out for releases of
different sorts.

Scream therapy no longer works. A beetle has crawled into my brain, making me feel
and do things that are not me. A stranger has taken residence in my body, forcing me,
creating the ache I feel. And it churns and curls in me, wrapping around my fragile
control, tightening and squeezing it, as a python would it prey. And I scream inside,
scream for the loss of me, wanting to get back to me…

No longer in control no longer in control…

Reaching out, grasping, crying for help. Curl up fetal style, pulling your arms tightly
around me. Make me forget, make me forget what I am right now.

Hand softly stroking my hair, and I feel my body tense, feel the anger surge from no
where, irrational, feelings not my own.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Anger curls, swelling and receding, leaving a miffed pressure
behind my eyes, begging to be unleashed. The poisoned tears squeeze out, as my body
shudders again. My brain hurts. My body aches.
I’m so tired. Tired of fighting the alien inside me. The control slips. I hate myself. Hate
myself for the weakness. Hate being a stranger in my own skin. I feel the creepy crawlies
take residence under my skin…nothing is comfortable. I feel jittery, as though I was on a
caffeine high. I can’t seem to keep still, the neural synapses snapping, begging for
release.

Sex.
I don’t care how. Hell, I don’t care who. Buy stock in Energizer, but that ain’t doing it
anymore either. Just fuck me. Make me forget I don’t know myself. Use that power in
me, make it melt away. Flip me, bounce me on the bed. Hell, invite your friends, fill me
with cock from all angles, drown me, drown me in sperm. Override this monster in me,
use this anger, make me scream, make me curse and act like one possessed. Make the
tingle in my skin feel positive, rather than the wanderings of a soon-to-be insane mind.

No! No, don’t make love to me! My feeble brain can’t use it…I said FUCK me. Slam my
body, slide me up against the wall roughly, take my body, until my brain slows down,
before exploding.

But my body doesn’t care. I get a moment, perhaps two, of clear thought, before my
body begs to shut my mind down again, and I am crawling over you, begging,
threatening…fuck me, or someone else will. I can see you’re tired, and it angers me
further. Some small part in the back of my head tries to pull me back, but I don’t care, all
I care about is the storm inside me, my orgasm much like the eye of a hurricane, and I’m
thrown about. I’ve lost all control, don’t want it, don’t need it.

Feel myself falling, no longer aware, blissfully unaware. I close my eyes to the feeling,
all that’s left…no thought, no anger, no fear. And even in the midst, my body grows
slack, relaxed, blessed with a mind emptied of all thought, no longer desperate, jittery.

Until the next time, which could be soon. But for a few moments, respite from the
pressing insanity.

“Stick a fork in ‘em he’s done,” was Deni’s. “When was that?”

“We went for a weekend to the shore.”

“Ooooh. We just went there! We left the kids with Josh’s mom for the weekend.” Ella smiled dreamily. “We had such a nice time…a romantic walk on the beach…and afterward…I haven’t had an orgasm like that in ages!” She blushed, then asked, “Did you have a good time?”

“Too many people. After he got the burn, we ended up coming home. No sense in staying if he had to stay inside all the time.”

“God, they’re getting old.” Deni whined.

“We all are. But, there are bonuses to being older.” Ella fiddled with her glass.

“God, what?”

“We don’t have a problem going after what we want.”

“Damn right!” Deni scanned the bar for likely suspects as she grinned.

“The stud at the next table – damn right – I need a good screwing.” Betsy commented as she raised her glass.

“Don’t we all?” Deni quipped. ” I mean, what is it with men? I could get just about any male in here. Flash a little tit, a little thigh and they’re drooling like mental patients. Marry them, and you need to drag them kicking and screaming to bed.” She paused to swig the rest of her tequila. “It’s been three weeks since I’ve had any. And then? I literally was on my knees in front of him begging. Hell, when it comes to sex, I have no pride.” She raised her hand to signal the waitress for another round.

“My problem is wham bam thank you ma’am and too bad you didn’t get a chance sweetie – I’ll try harder next time – but he never does.” Betsy answered.

“Exactly. But with a stranger? Hell, fireworks, and excitement and everything sex should be. You know what it is girls?”

They both watched Deni for her answer.

“They take us for granted. They don’t have to work to please us anymore, they already HAVE us.” The waitress put the tray down as she handed out the drinks, grinning at the women and silently nodding her head.

“Well, DUH. Tell me something I didn’t figure out after the first two years of marriage.” Ella nearly choked on her drink laughing.

“So why do we put up with it? If a stranger would treat us better, why do we put up with it?” Betsy asked.

“Because we don’t want to be alone?” Deni replied.

“Aren’t we little miss cynical!” Ella exclaimed. “You know why as well as I do. We love them. God only knows why, they certainly drive us insane, but there it is.” She took another swig of her drink. “Topic change; when was the last time your husband did something sexually surprising for you? Could be romantic or whatever.”

Betsy spoke first, “Ummm Lets restate the question. When did they EVER do something to surprise us?”

“Ethan used to bring me cards home. Used to bring me flowers for no reason. Last year after a really and I mean REALLY bad fight…he arranged for mom to take the girls while we went to a really fancy restaurant. One where we could actually hear each other, and had tablecloths.” Deni said.

“Denise Louise Richards. I said sexually surprising, I already said mine.” Ella nudged her.

“Fine. At least he’s willing to do something more than missionary. Doesn’t like anal, but he’ll play around a few times a year since he knows I do.” Deni thought for a moment. “Last year he shaved me! That counts, doesn’t it?” She grinned.

“You like anal? My husband would kill to try that out…nope, no way. Not in this lifetime.” Ella retorted.

Betsy moaned. “This is almost more than I needed to know.”

“Fine then, what does Daren do to get your motor going?” Ella answered.

Betsy laughed. “Does baking me chocolate chip cookies count?”

“Well, lets see, chocolate, sex. Chocolate. Sex.” Ella held her hands face up as though weighing the subjects. ” Close enough I guess.” She paused, “Actually, I think chocolate may be better.”

“Bite your tongue! Better than sex?” Deni said.

“Fine then. Better than bad sex. And before you start, YES there is such a thing.”

“Well, duh,” she replied, mimicking Ella, “of course there is. That’s what we’re complaining about, isn’t it? Well, quality AND quantity. What’s the longest you’ve been without?”

“Honestly?” Ella answered.

“No, lie to me,” Deni said, exasperated, “Of course honestly.”

” 20 months, 2 weeks and 3 days.”

“I think she meant since you’ve been married.” Betsy said.

“That WAS when I was married.” Ella countered.

“Ouch! And I complain about 3 months. Jesus. How did you live through it?”

“Thank god for Rechargeables and cyber is all I’ve got to say.” Ella shook her head and took a big gulp of her drink. The question ‘Why?’ hung in the air, but no one wanted to ask.

“Have you ever considered women?” Ella broke the silence.

“You mean become bisexual? What woman hasn’t?” Deni joked, then seeing the looking on Ella’s face, “You’re serious?”

Betsy answered quietly, “I’ve thought about it. I mean, hell, men aren’t doing it for me.”

“I’ve thought about it a lot. A Lot.” The women waited for her to continue. “I’ve been sorta seeing this woman online.”

“REALLY? What does Josh have to say about that? Does he even know?” Betsy asked incredulously.

“He knows. Not happy, really, but surprisingly, he’s pretty understanding about it. But I think he thinks it’s some sort of stage I’m going through.” She paused a moment, “or he thinks he can get a ménage going on.”

“Deni,” Betsy suddenly hissed, “there’s some guy staring at you.”

“Really? Where? Is he cute?” She grinned then turned around.

“Jesus, girl where were you in Clubbing 101? You don’t turn and LOOK!”

The guy was good looking. Tall, with a sexy smile that lit up his eyes. Older too, not some college brat. He raised his glass in her direction when he caught her eye. She smiled at him, and he started to walk toward their booth.

He stopped at the booth and looked down at the women, or more specifically, at Deni.

“Hi.”

It wasn’t much, but that one syllable melted over her body like rich, warm chocolate. Betsy and Ella gave her an imperceptible head nudge.

“Hi.” She managed back.

“Would you like to dance?” he held his hand out to her.

She began to stutter her apology when Ella answered for her, “Oh, go on Deni! Just remember what we had the conversation about.” She grinned at her friend as she was led out on the dance floor.

“Do you come here often?” He asked her.

“No, just once a year. You?”

“Just passing through. I like the scenery.” He smiled down at her again, revealing an adorable dimple on his right cheek. She flustered as they continued to dance on the miniscule dance floor, until she caught the eyes of her girlfriends who were egging her on. Ella’s words came back to her, and she replayed the conversation in her head as his hand softly caressed her back. She followed Ella’s advice, remembering the words she’d spoken earlier. “But with a stranger? Hell, fireworks, and excitement and everything sex should be.” Guess she was saying follow my own advice. Her body closed the gap he’d allowed, and felt her breasts brush against his chest. A quiet intake of breath was her acknowledgement. His hands continued to wander her back, up and down slowly and seductively. Each pass brought his hands lower and lower until his palms were resting over the curves of her ass, and his fingers squeezing her pelvis closer to him, feeling his own reaction against her stomach. She gasped. Maybe this is too much she thought, looking over his shoulder to her friends.

Who were no longer at the table. She could see the bills fluttering beneath the empty glasses, her own purse and bag missing. Damn them!

The song ended, and she stepped away. “I’m sorry…but my friends just left, and they have my purse. I need to go hunt them down…but it was lovely meeting you.” Deni smiled, as she stepped away.

Quickly, he fell into step with her. “That wasn’t a nice thing to do! Let me help you find them. At least this way, you have someone to help you with a plan B.”

She nodded and smiled, “Thanks. I might just have to take you up on that.” She wandered up to the bank of elevators, and pressed the floor she knew Betsy was staying on. He followed her into the elevator, rubbing her tense shoulders. “My room and car keys were in my purse…they know I can’t get home without them. What made them think this would be amusing?” she ranted idly, even while her body’s nervous system was going on overload at his touch. The elevator stopped on the floor, and she walked up to the door. It was slightly open, so she pushed it in.

“Okay guys! This isn’t funny!” The empty room echoed as she wondered where they could be.

Her purse was sitting on the closest bed with her keycard and she sighed heavily in relief, as she heard the door click shut behind her. She heard him come up behind her, and knew what was coming. She tossed the momentary qualms aside and turned into his embrace. His hold was strong, sure and sensual, as his lips kissed first her eyelids, her nose, her cheek, her jaw, before settling over her mouth.

His tongue teased her, drawing a moan from her, as his arms tightened around her suddenly slack body. Her hands drew up to play with the hair curling at the collar of his shirt. His lips left hers and skimmed down her neck to the hollow of her throat, kissing softly and making her shiver in his embrace. The buttons quickly fell open as he skimmed lower. His touch was electric. She moaned softly as his fingers tightened against her back, her hands running down to his broad shoulders. She fell back onto the bed, as he pulled off his shirt, returning to her quickly. She could feel the heat of his chest burn through the satin of her bra. It teased her already turgid nipples. Quickly, she reached behind to unclasp the bra, desperate for the feel of his hot skin against hers. The cold of his belt buckle hit her stomach and caused her to shiver again. She reached down to undo it, feeling his thickness press against her thigh as she did so. Her own skirt had magically disappeared. She lay nude beneath him, his touch causing frissions of tension to course through her body as his slacks slide down to puddle on the floor. With a moan, he fell forward on top of her, his hands running down her sides.

Slowly, he slid down her body, softly worshipping her body with his mouth as he moved until he was kneeling between her thighs. His dark smiling eyes caught her lust hazed ones before dipping into her femininity. Once, twice his tongue slid widely over her slit, dragging across her already engorged clitoris. Her breathing caught, and he felt her thighs vibrate against his cheeks. Three times, and she shrieked loudly, her inner lips fluttering spasmodically against his tongue. He pressed his tongue against her quivering flesh, and held still until the spasms passed. He rose to his knees, pressing his shaft against her humid core, and gradually slid inside. He groaned, pressing up against her pelvic bone. His hands pulled her hips against his own, her clitoris stimulated by the contact and she bucked against him. He slid and out of her relentlessly, a steady rhythm, not too fast or too slow. They both panted, moaning, otherwise silent. Her body arched as he brought her closer and closer to the brink, each breath becoming more ragged. In a sudden blaze, Deni shrieked as her body began to convulse about the bed, in the throes on a massive orgasm. And still, he kept pounding away like a metronome. His breathing was coming in hisses now, and his constant rhythm began to break down, as he roared his own completion. He fell against her, his head against her breast, while they both caught their breath.

“Wow,” she breathed.

“Wow is right,” he answered as he slowly stood up, “that was wild.”

“Mmmmhmmm,” she agreed still in post orgasmic bliss.

“I need to work in the morning, so I better get going.” He zipped up his pants.

“Okay sweetheart, I’ll see you when you get home from work.” She stood up and slid her naked body against him.

“Thanks for fulfilling my fantasy…Yours is next.” She murmured against his cheek as she let him out the door.

Ella and Betsy were never going to believe it.

It was the annual “Hen Roost” as her husband liked to call it. Her and her two good friends would go out for the night, drinking, carousing, and male bashing. Of course, it was easy to do when he used terms like that.

She ordered a coke to start with, wanting to be sharp for the beginning festivities. Betsy was the first one in. It figured, since she was closer, and not having any kids, she’d find it easier to escape.

“Betsy! Over here!” she called out.

“Deni!” Betsy rushed over and threw her arms around her friend, then proceeded to drop a large shopping bag and her coat to her seat.

“Holy shit, Den! How much weight did you lose?” Deni did a little pirouette.

“You like? Twenty five pounds; yoga, and power walking,” she replied as they both slid into the booth.

“So, where’s Ella?” Betsy flagged down a waitress.

“I imagine she’ll be here shortly. Her kids go to bed later than mine…and she has a lot further to travel. You spending the night here like last year?”

“Hell, yeah. Too fricken far to travel back tonight. Too bad you can’t stay. Ella said she probably will.”

“Actually, I am. Ethan arranged it!” Deni grinned.

“Woohoo! Oh! There’s Ella.” Betsy cried out. “Hey Ella!” Deni laughed at how half the bar looked over at them. Ella laughed too through her blush.

“I can’t believe you did that!” She dumped her belongings down and looked at her two friends. “So…What’d I miss?” She plopped down into the booth next to Betsy as the waitress came by.

“Hi ladies. Will you be starting a tab tonight?”

The women chuckled. “Oh, yeah. Lots of talking tonight!”

“Great then. What will we start with?”

“Husband bashing for the first course?” Deni grinned.

“Oooh. I’m up for some of that!” the waitress replied, “but I have to take your drink orders.”

“I’ll have a mudslide please,” Betsy chimed in.

“Sombero please…and the more Kahlua the better.” Was Ella’s addition.

“I swear, I’m gonna call you girls the Kahlua sisters. I’d like a Tequila Sunrise please?” Deni finished as the waitress smiled and left with their order.

“Let’s go through the pictures first, before we’re too sloshed to recognize who’s who.” Deni said while she pulled her bag up to the table, digging for her collection.

“Good idea. I didn’t bring many this year. You always bring enough for the two of us.” Betsy nudged Deni.

Ella sighed as she pulled hers out. “The girls got into the pictures just before I left…so they aren’t all here…” she shuffled through, “Here is Molly’s school pictures.” She smiled.

“Pig tails, Ella? God, that’s old-fashioned! Oh wait.” Deni chuckled, “Look at Lizzie’s school picture.”

They all laughed when they saw Lizzie had braided pigtails as well. “Probably the only time I did that all year too.”

“Oh, aren’t they darling!” Betsy commented.

Ella snorted. Deni shuffled through the pictures. “Really? Take a look at this one.”

Betsy gasped when she saw the same “darling” covered with… “What IS that?”

Deni laughed. “Oh, they decided to get into the cubby where I store all the holiday stuff? That was Easter egg dye. They thought they’d use it like makeup. You should have seen the floor when I found them.” She shook her head, “it took me ages, and there are still green stains on the floor.”

“THAT is why I don’t have children. Well, that and I can’t. But it’s why we never adopted. I have enough trouble cleaning up after the dogs.” She handed the picture to Ella.

She laughed, “I recognize that. Only mine was Christy getting into my makeup.”

Pulling another picture from the pile, Betsy asked, “Was this your vacation?”

Deni nodded. ” If you can call a weekend a vacation, yes. But it was nice. The weather was gorgeous. Couldn’t've asked for better.”

The waitress showed up with the drinks, taking a moment to laugh at Lizzie covered with egg dye. “Just holler when you need more, it looks like a long night!” She grinned as she moved away.

“Now for the proof of point pictures, ladies.” Ella flipped one on top of the pile. “Remember how I said the house looked? And neither of you would believe how bad it was?”

Betsy gulped and Deni laughed. “Looks like the girls’ rooms after a long, rainy weekend.”

“So, Bets, where’re your pictures?”

“Don’t have many…just one of the dogs, one of the new garden, and one of Daren when he got sunburned.” She shuffled through the pile and pulled out the pictures she mentioned.

…End of the part1. To be continued..

I sent both stories to the friend for comment, with a gap between them,
as I recovered the second. The enclosed material is excerpts from our
e-mail discussion of the stories. I am publishing this as an addendum
to both stories, to answer some questions (and possible flames) that
might otherwise raise their heads.

IN> Frank,

IN> Thank you very much for the story “Bound for Fun” which I read last
IN> week.

Thank YOU for the nice long response.

IN> Your story sure hits on some of our common and individual favorite
IN> themes. The girl is old enough for my tastes, I hope she is young
IN> enough for yours.

She is.

IN> I loved the allusion to “Preggie Sarah.” That was really choice.
IN> You really have a thing for getting them pregnant, don’t you?

As I’ve said before, getting pregnant is one of my biggest fantasies.
I’d give half of what I own, for the chance.
I know that I’m not the only man to harbor such desires, and
many women love the thought of BEING pregnant.

IN> The promise of a mother/daughter hot combo is also quite
IN> appealing, especially if both of them are kinked in the same
IN> directions as the protagonist, as they seem to be.

They are, but in slightly different ways.

IN> I appreciate the fact that you stayed away from specific descriptions
IN> of the bondage, etc, which you are not an expert in. This is great
IN> by me, since I find stories that start to read like parts catalogs for
IN> fetish wear to be tedious.

I always toss the ones that are nothing more than a description of torture-
devices.

IN> I am certainly no expert in bondage, although I have lurked about
IN> alt.sex.bondage for quite a while, but I think this story has some
IN> real-world problems with consensuality. Please let me note at the
IN> outset that I __know this is just fantasy, and no harm done, etc. etc.
IN> But the aspect of consensuality that primarily concerns me is the
IN> pregnancy one. Is the girl dumb, or am I? Does she know that she has
IN> been knocked up, and approve, or is she being taken along for a ride
IN> by her trusted parent? This could generate a lot of flames in a.s.b.

A. She’s dumb. Well, not DUMB exactly, just WAY too trusting. This is
explored MUCH more deeply in the second story. She trust EVERYONE,
even when she shouldn’t. Most especially, she trusts her mother to watch
out for her best interests, and in her own way June does.
B. Does she know? No.
C. Does she approve? I tried to make the implication, that she actually
WANTS to get pregnant, but is scared to do it, because:
1. She isn’t married, and doesn’t even have a steady boyfriend.
2. She’s afraid of what her school-mates would think, if she showed up
at school with a bulging belly.
3. This is the kicker. Most importantly, she THINKS her mother would
disapprove, and she doesn’t want to hurt her mother. If it wasn’t
for fear of overburdening her mother with raising another child,
Lynn would probably have already sneaked out and gotten pregnant
anyway. Her mother knows this, and implies at the start, that Lynn
would have to “earn” the privilege of getting pregnant.

IN> Also, I think, again with the “this is only fantasy” caveat, that it
IN> would be pretty weird for a loving, caring mother, which this one
IN> seems to be, to leave her kid in the hands of a semi-pro BD
IN> specialist, with only threats of retribution to safeguard her. I
IN> think a bit of talk about her extensive checking of Jones’ background,
…End of the part1. To be continued..

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