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Secret #1
Betty was a beauty. Only, Betty had a dark side and those who knew Betty and who thought that they knew the real Betty, had no idea of who she really was behind her beautiful façade. With her confident smile, musical laugh, and quick wit, she took care never to reveal herself to anyone. She was a woman who kept a lot of secrets.
Her blue-black, thick, lush hair contrasted with her porcelain, white, creamy skin and her true-blue eyes sparkled like royal sapphires. From the back, with her black, shiny, straight hair and slim figure, she appeared Asian, that is, until she turned around and spoke and you realized that she was a 100% Texan-American, southern, country girl.
“Yee Haw!” All you cowboys out there know what I’m talking about.
She had whiskey lips that she decorated with glistening, ruby red gloss and that, when she pouted them, made you want to give her your credit card to go shopping at the mall and not give a care how much she spent, so long as she returned to you safe, sound, sexy, and horny.
“Did you have fun shopping, Betty?”
“I spent a million dollars, Freddie.”
“I love you, Betty.”
Her skin so ghostly translucent and clean, her cheeks only needed a brush of blush to give her some color. She made up her eyes to make them appear larger, and they did, and her face to make her appear more mysterious, and she did. She had hypnotic eyes, eyes that you could not look away from, once she captivated you with her smile, with her stare, and with her beauty.
Was she conceited? Yeah, probably, she knew she was beautiful, no doubt. Only, for those who were able to see past the manifestation that was her beauty, she was troubled, deeply disturbed, and undoubtedly tormented. Any psychiatrist, upon closer examination, would tell you that she was dangerously insane. Unfortunately, she seldom allowed anyone to get close enough to her to see the real, dark, and ugly Betty that lay hidden, but a scratch away, beneath the surface.
Her eye makeup, red lips, and blush all worked together to compliment her already natural beauty. With her hair so black and her complexion so white, the palette she chose gave color to her face without making her look clownish and overly made up. If she was beautiful before, she was even more beautiful with makeup now, making those who saw her unable to remove their gaze from her fabulous face.
Only, you would remove your stare from her face to stare at her Barbie doll body, a body that normally only lives in a video game, in your imagination or between the pages of your favorite men’s magazine that you peruse when you are home alone in your room with your hand firmly around your cock. Yet, there she is standing before you smiling. Is she smiling at me or at you or is she smiling at her reflection in the glass behind us? What does it matter? You’re drooling. God, she’s so beautiful that just to see someone like this, like her in person, has given you a lifetime of memories to take you where you need to go when you are horny and alone in your room again and fantasizing about beautiful Betty.
In a Wal-Mart world of super-sized women bedraggled with spoiled and unruly children and who cover their burgeoning bodies with wrinkled jeans and worn sweatshirts, Betty had a tiny 24″ waist and a perfect 36C bust with complimenting 36″ hips beneath her tailored dresses, had no children, and never shopped at Wal-Mart. At 5′7″ without heels and 110 pounds when stepping naked from the shower, there was nothing to find fault with someone who looked so beautiful on the outside, that is, unless you knew the ugly secrets that she kept hidden on the inside.
“A penny for your thoughts? The cat got your tongue? What’s wrong Betty? You look so troubled, depressed, and angry. You look like you lost your best friend. Did your dog die? Why would someone so beautiful look so glum?”
Every man realized it and commented on it, yet no man took the time to truly question it. Her beauty made them forget whatever else was wrong with her. She was so perfect on the outside, after all. What problems could she possibly have? Just to be with her was enough and when they were with her naked, whatever was wrong with her could be fixed or ignored.
“Oh, nothing,” within that five second pause passed a year of psycho therapy that, within that period of time, a psychiatrist could not bridge the troubled waters of her insanity. If only there was a doctor who possessed the key to unlock her secrets and release her misery, maybe she could have been cured. Maybe, she could have been saved.
“I broke a nail,” she said looking up and smiling at me with those blue eyes that melts my heart and makes me, someone who is tone deaf and has no rhythm, want to sing like the late, great Luciano Pavarotti and dance like the late, great Fred Astaire.
“Betty, Betty, Betty, Elizabeth, Eliza, Beth, Liz, Liza, I love every variety of her name,” I sang as I danced around the room. “I love my beautiful Betty.”
To be continued…

After I met Mike at a fancy dress party, I started to call him up and suggested we hang out together.
“What do you want from me?” he asked, a little suspiciously, the second time I rang, “You’re not interested in me for my looks, surely? You could get any guy you wanted”.
We’d slept together once after our first meeting and, just between us, he’s OK in bed. Strictly average. I sighed and wondered how to say what I wanted to say to him.
“Mike, you’re short and a little overweight, let’s not mince words, but you’re a great dancer and you know how to look after a girl”.
“Hmmm. I’m not sure how to take that”, he said, sounding a little hurt.
“I’ll make it up to you. Don’t worry!” I laughed. “C’mon, let’s go shopping on Saturday!”
“What do you want to buy?” he asked, with curiosity in his voice.
“What do you think, Mike? Clothes, of course! I’d love to shop with you because I can show off around you and you just let me do my thing. OK?”
* * *
He came to pick me up Saturday at 11. My flatmate, Vicky, answered the door.
“She’s in her room, Mike. Go on through”, I could hear her say, with a smile in her voice.
I deliberately wanted to give Mike a bit of treat so I hadn’t dressed at all. He knocked on my door and came in. I was sitting on my bed reading a magazine, with my legs crossed and my hands covering my pussy.
“Hi Mike!”
“Oh. Hi. Umm . . .” He blushed and looked at the floor for a moment before he collected himself, “Am I early or something? I’ll go and wait outside”.
“No, no. Wait here; I’m almost ready to go. I’ve just gotta pull on something. I’ve showered - and I’ve done something else as well,” I said with a naughty little laugh. “Wanna see?”
I moved my hands and stretched my legs out in front of me. Mike’s eyes went to my pussy, which I’d shaved very carefully that morning.
“Very nice”, he murmured, as he sat on edge of the bed and finally smiled a little. “Do we have to go out after all?”
“If you think you’ve come over just to fuck me, no way!” I laughed. I leapt up off the bed and stood in front of my mirror.
“Will you pick something for me to wear, Mike?”
I loved teasing him, seeing him change from an embarrassed schoolboy to a confident flirt - and back again. He was bright red now and didn’t know what to say.
“Sure. Um, OK. You’re fine as you are, you know”, he finally said, forcing a grin.
I lifted my heavy breasts with both hands and stood, facing him.
“I can’t exactly go out like this, can I?” I said with a smile, as I jiggled my tits. “I need something that’ll hide these - at least a little”, I added as I turned and took a step towards him.
Mike was still sitting on my bed, not sure how to react.
“There’s my wardrobe - you choose something for me”. I leaned forward so my hanging breasts almost brushed his nose. Feeling him so close, I felt all tingly and horny and couldn’t help teasing him a little bit more.
“You know, Mike, I shaved down here for a reason, too”, I said quietly, reaching down my with freshly painted nails.
I know it wasn’t fair for me to work him up that way, but the poor guy couldn’t help making a grab for me. I shook his hand off my tit and nimbly stepped out of his way, giggling.
“Now, now, Mike. C’mon, choose some clothes for me, or we’ll be late. I want you to take me out to lunch wearing something new!”
He had turned bright red again but at least now he got up and turned to my wardrobe. The first few things he selected were absolutely no good for daytime street wear.
“What do you think I am, Mike, a hooker or something?” I asked, as I wiggled my hips in a satin minidress with a lace-up front.
The next two outfits were strictly for parties too: a sideless ankle length dress, and an eight inch vinyl skirt with a bustier top. But I modelled them for him and had fun doing a little striptease as I removed them. I could see his hard on in his pants the whole time, so I sat back down on the bed next to him.
“Mike, feel free to wank, if you’d like. I love knowing that I turn a guy on. Let’s have a look here”.
I unzipped his pants and took out his thick cock, dark with blood. It stood up straight and I wiggled it left and right, feeling it stiffen even more.
“Ally, I’m going crazy here!” Mike said. “C’mon babe, why don’t we . . .”
His words trailed off as I leaned down and put my lips around his dick. His hands went to my bare tits and his hips started moving rhythmically up and down as my head bobbed.
I was starting to get horny myself, and was wondering if I had any condoms left, when he came with a gush. I was so surprised that I didn’t swallow; his cum bubbled down my chin onto my tits.
“Very nice Mike. Short and sweet, huh?” I winked at him.
He turned bright red again, “I’m sorry Ally. I came a bit fast, huh?” He stood up and turned towards my bathroom. I threw him a pink towel and, after he’d cleaned up, I wiped myself off as well.
“Mmmm, I like the smell of cum on me when I’m going out to show off. It makes me even hornier than usual!” I said softly.
* * *
“Do you often alter your clothes so that they’re more revealing?” he asked once we were in the car.
Mike had finally chosen something suitable for Saturday shopping: one of my thin, tight, pink midriff t-shirts, a frayed pair of cutoff shorts with a very small g-string underneath and my new 5″ cork soled platform sandals. Mike was looking at how much flesh was visible through my shortened shorts.
“Sometimes”, I giggled, stretching my legs out. “I went a bit far with these shorts, so I’ve gotta wear a g-string during the day. They sit nice and low on my hips ’cause, see, I’ve cut the waistband off”.
I wiggled in my seat to show Mike how loose they were and so that he could see quite a bit of g-string.
“So, Ally, what’s your biggest turn-on as far as clothes go?” he went on, as the car made its way towards the shopping centre.
I stretched my legs out and put my feet on the dash. “Shoes!”
“Shoes?” Mike asked, quizzically.
“Did you notice the shoes in my wardrobe, Mike?”
“Um, yeah. I did, actually. They’re just about all high heels”.
I explained to Mike the appeal of really high heeled shoes to a girl who’s not much above five feet.
“And when you’ve got tits like mine, Mike, high heels make them really stand out. If I wear flat shoes, I really need to wear a bra”.
I went on to tell Mike that platforms suited me best because I could easily afford to add six inches to my height.
“And, after a bit of practice, you can walk in them quite easily!” I added.
The whole time we were talking, I noticed Mike’s eyes strayed to my legs and feet. I spread my knees wide apart and looked down to see if he was also getting glimpses at my g-string through the frayed crotch.
“Naughty boy! What have you been trying to peek at?”
He reddened again and looked back at the road, without saying anything. I thought I’d might as well enjoy myself while we were driving, so I licked a finger and slid it into the loose crotch of my shorts.
“Mmmm, that’s nice”, I said, getting Mike’s attention once more.
“Ally, can I ask you something else?”
“Sure, anything you like”. I’d pushed the narrow g-string aside and found my favourite spot on my clit, so I closed my eyes to enjoy it better as Mike’s car purred along.
All of sudden, Mike poured forth with a torrent of questions: “How often do you go out like this, looking to show off?”; “How many guys have you slept with?”; “What do your friends think of your exhibitionism?”; “Have any of your boyfriends minded you doing this sort of thing?”; “What’s the most public place you’ve masturbated in?”; “When did you first show yourself off in public?”
“Whoa, Mike, hold on!!” I laughed.
I could tell his questions were genuine curiosity, not a way to make me feel guilty, so I answered them honestly. We laughed together at some of the things I’d done and I could feel my horniness grow as I told Mike a detailed story about the night I went out and danced, pantyless, in my sideless minidress on a bar.
By the time we pulled into the shopping centre carpark, Mike had recovered his composure and was a bit more confident. “Let’s play a little game, OK?” he offered.
“OK? What’s the game?” I asked, curiously.
“I want you to take your g-string off in the first shop and leave it there”.
I thought for a moment and grinned at Mike. “Hmmm. That could be fun”.
Mike’s idea made me feel horny as anything by the time we got into the mall. My shorts were done up and my top was pulled down properly, but walking in my cork platforms gave my tits a nice bounce.
“Can you see my nipples?” I asked Mike. I stopped in the busy arcade and stretched the fabric tight across my chest with my hands. Two guys had also stopped and I enjoyed the feeling of them watching me.
“Oh yeah!” Mike said enthusiastically, taking my hand and walking on.
* * *
Mike stopped me at a shop which had a display of miniskirts. He pointed out one made of denim which seemed pretty short.
“Looks a bit Pamela Anderson to me”, I said. “But I’ll try it on for you, if you want!”
The shop assistant was a tall girl with very slim legs who was wearing the same skirt herself with a tank top and a matching jacket.
“Wow, that skirt looks great on you!” I said to her. “I’ve just gotta try one on”. I’ve learned that if you get these shop girls on-side, they don’t mind you showing off a bit in their store.
“Here’s one a size larger than mine”, the girl commented primly, with arched eyebrows. “It looks good when it sits low on the hips”. She gave her own hips a little sway, looking across at Mike.
“Does it? Well, I’ll make sure I wear it real low. Do you want to come and help me, Mike?” I asked with a wicked grin.
He surprised me. “No, I’ll wait here until you come out”.
I took off my shorts and hung my g-string on a peg. The skirt fitted me perfectly. It was done up with six side buttons, but I only buttoned the two middle ones so that it balanced precariously, showing my hip bones. I experimented with wiggling my hips to see if it would slide off altogether.
I came out into the shop to show Mike. “I’m glad I shaved, Mike, because it would show something if I didn’t huh?”
I moved to look at myself in the mirror, where I pushed the bottom of my t-shirt up, just showing the bottom curve of my tits. I stood there with my arms by my sides, taking in the effect of so much belly on show, almost down to the top of my slit.
“That looks great!” Mike said. “What do you think?” He turned to the shop assistant.
“Your girlfriend looks very sexy in that, although it’s about to fall off her if she doesn’t do up the buttons”, she replied with the tiniest sneer in her voice.
“You’re right”, I said, turning the skirt around so that the buttons were at the front. “Would you do them up for me?”
The shop girl squatted down in front of me to do so, but stopped when she realised I wasn’t wearing panties. She looked up at me, embarrassed and speechless. I smiled as I undid the remaining two buttons and held the skirt to cover my butt, but completely showing my bare pussy to her, mere inches from her nose.
“I think I’ll leave it, but thanks anyway”, I said as I handed the skirt to her and walked around her, back into the changeroom.
I emerged a minute later, leaving my g-string on its peg, remembering Mike’s ‘game’. I was wondering if he’d notice that I’d ‘forgotten’ to do up the top two buttons on my shorts. This had the effect of making them slide around a bit and, from above, giving passers-by glimpses of bare flesh.
“Very nice”, said Mike, winking, when he saw me. “Let’s move on”.
* * *
As we wandered, several guys turned to look at me. My tits felt great stretching against the tight material of my shirt and I had a way of walking in my heels to exaggerate the way they jiggled.
My shorts gradually worked their way down and, at one point, I thought they were going to fall right off, but by wiggling my hips a certain way, I could just keep them up.
“Ally, just stop for a moment”, Mike said, pulling me to a halt in front of a busy cafe. He slid his hand down the gaping back of my shorts and pulled me to him for a kiss. The feeling of my shorts halfway down my backside in public and my tits pressing into Mike made me feel extremely horny.
“C’mon”, I laughed, pulling away after a few kisses.
We walked on and, as I took my steps, I kept adjusting my shorts in a way which made them ride up the cleft of my cheeks. Mike would occasionally slide his hand in and quickly squeeze my butt, but I didn’t mind at all. I was aware of several young guys following at a distance and I kept looking behind and giggling as I wiggled my little butt at them.
“Mike, let’s go in here!” I stopped him in front of an evening wear shop which had a sign out the front reading, “Surprise Him Tonight!”. The window display contained a number of sexy and revealing outfits; just looking at them was making my juices flow.
“Hey, Ally! Look at this one!” Mike called me over to look at a mannequin in the doorway wearing a low cut clingy minidress with the waist slit up both sides. “Are you game?” he grinned, as I felt the thin material.
The shop assistant wore a name-tag reading ‘Meryl’ which bounced nicely on her chest. I couldn’t help noticing that Mike took a lot of interest in Meryl’s miniskirt, which showed off her tanned thighs almost to her crotch.
“How may I help you?” she asked, staring wide-eyed at my loose shorts as she tottered over to us in her strappy sandals.
“I’d like to try one of those on” I said, pointing at the dress. Meryl was still staring at my skimpy shorts, so I stood with my hands on my hips, moving them down a fraction more, wondering how much of my smooth mound Meryl could see.
As Meryl turned, Mike admired her shapely butt as she leaned over to get a dress from a low-lying shelf. I took the absurdly skimpy piece of unlined fabric into the changeroom and, as I held it up in front of me, I wondered how I’d get it on.
I could hear Mike, outside, flirting with Meryl. “What you’re wearing looks sensational on you, you know . . .”
I heard Meryl giggling in response as I breathed in and squeezed into the dress. Only then, though, did I notice there was no mirror actually in the changeroom. I’d have to go out to even get a decent glimpse of myself.
“Mike, I’m coming out!” I called, as I tied my shoes back on.
“Jeez, Ally!” were his words when I walked out. I immediately saw why he reacted that way. In the light of the shop, the dress was virtually sheer: through the fabric, the darkness of my nipples could clearly be seen. My little pussy slit remained hidden - at least for the moment - as the dress was just long enough to cover my crotch.
“I think you should lower the whole dress a little”, Meryl offered, with a little smile. “That way, it’ll cover you down there and you’ve got plenty up top to hold it up, after all”.
I let her adjust the straps of the dress until most of my tits were bulging out the top. “I can’t exactly do any leaning over in this, can I?” I laughed, looking down into my cleavage.
I turned to look at myself from the rear and was pleased to see that, even standing up straight, a hint of brown butt cheek was visible. “Definitely no leaning!” I giggled.
I walked over to a sofa and sat down on it, smoothing the dress over my thighs as I crossed my legs, pretending that modesty was important to me. “So, does this dress show a little too much leg?” I asked Meryl, as I ran my hand up my upper thigh and hip.
“Well, it is quite revealing, but you’ve got the legs to do it”, she smiled, looking across at Mike, who smiled back at her.
“Do you think so?” I asked coquettishly, as I stretched my crossed legs out along the sofa. I could feel Meryl’s and Mike’s eyes admiring my smooth brown legs, but they didn’t respond.
I then leaned back, with my hands behind my head, causing the dress to ride up just above my crotch. Meryl caught her breath when she saw I wasn’t wearing panties and looked at Mike, as if looking for some explanation. Mike remained transfixed and looked from my pussy to Meryl’s legs, then back again.
“You’ve got beautiful legs, too, Meryl”, I said, admiring her shapely calves and thighs - and her little feet with their painted nails. She reddened a little and looked down at the floor, so I thought I’d see how much mileage I could get out of this situation.
“Do you wear panties, Meryl?” I added, with a smile, separating my legs just a fraction.
“Umm. Yeah. I do”. Meryl glanced at me - then at Mike. She was obviously wondering whether this was some sort of scam.
“As you can see, I don’t”, I went on. “I like it when people see my pussy, especially sexy girls like you Meryl”.
I spread my legs a little further still, until my pussy lips, slightly swollen now, could be seen. Meryl was silent, but clearly fascinated, her eyes glued to my pussy.
“Mike, come over here”, I asked gently, as I started to stroke myself, putting one foot up onto the back of the sofa. My legs were spread wide now and my inner lips were visible, wet and pink.
Mike obediently came forward and sat on the sofa, between my outstretched legs. “I’m sure Meryl would like to watch”, I added, glancing at Meryl, who couldn’t help moving closer herself.
“Have you ever seen a naked woman like this, Meryl?” I asked.
“Umm. No”. She was bright red and her hands were rubbing anxiously against the sides of her thighs.
“Should you close the shop for a few minutes, Meryl?” Mike asked. “We can all have some fun together that way”.
“I can’t!” Meryl blurted out.
Mike and I looked at each other while Meryl stopped and appeared to think for a moment. “Well, I suppose for five minutes I could”.
She ran to the counter and picked up a little sign which she hung in the door, locking it behind her. When she returned to us, Mike had started to lick my pussy and Meryl was visibly more relaxed; she even had a little smile.
“Are you guys doing this as a dare?” she asked, standing with her hands on her hips. “Or is this some kind of turn on for you both?”
“It’s a turn on for me”, I replied, “but Mike can speak for himself. Actually, he can’t right now”, I giggled, watching Mike’s tongue and lips working busily away.
“Feel free to touch yourself Meryl”, I said. “In fact, I’d love it if you did”.
She reddened again and smoothed her skirt across her thighs in an anxious movement. “I’ve never done that in front of someone else before. Not even my boyfriend”.
“Here, then, I’ll show you what to do”, I said, gently moving Mike’s face away from my pussy. I sat up straight on the sofa, both feet on the floor, and motioned to Meryl to come closer.
“Let me see what’s under this skirt”, I said, as she came within arm’s reach. I slid my hands up her taut thighs and found the waistband of her panties. Meryl didn’t resist as I pulled them down and let them drop to her feet.
“Nice g-string Meryl”, I said.
She stepped aside and I picked up the crumpled fabric and held it against my face. “Mmmm, you’ve been getting horny, haven’t you?”
Meryl mumbled something and looked at my outstretched legs.
“Tell me, Meryl, do you have fantasies about working here without your underwear? I certainly would.”
“Well, umm, sometimes”, she eventually admitted, blushing once more. “A woman like you came in a few weeks ago and tried on all sorts of things without panties or a bra on. It made me so wet . . .”
I listened to her words trail off and I could see by the way she now looked at me that she was coming around to my way of thinking.
“I’ve got an idea, Meryl”. I paused for effect while she looked from my legs to my face.
“I’d like to touch your pussy and you can touch mine. Mike here won’t do a thing, except perhaps play with himself, not unless you want him to”.

This is the fourth in a multi-part story about my early experiences with sex. For complete background, see the previous sections of the story. While these ‘HS Sweetheart’ stories are mostly true, I have changed names to protect the not-so-innocent. Please vote if you liked or didn’t like the story and send some feedback.
My memories of the spring of my senior year of high school are mostly filled with Mary Jane. I’m sure that I was deciding where I wanted to go to college and setting up plans for summer jobs, but all I remember is Mary Jane. Mary Jane started off the year, as she had for the past five or six years, as the object of my adolescent fantasies and dreams. Through some stroke of luck or divine blessing, her romantic attention finally turned my way. We started dating coincidentally around her eighteenth birthday in March, and as I’ve described, within weeks she had taught me almost everything there is to know about sex. I’ve since discovered that not all women hide within themselves sexual deviants just waiting for a chance to talk dirty and experience anything and everything sexual, but at the time that is exactly what I had.
Mary Jane didn’t just love sex, she WAS sex. When she walked into a room, people looked at her and could feel it. I saw it happen to men and to women. First their eyes would linger just a little longer than necessary and Mary Jane’s figure. Then they would return their gaze to scan up and down her body a few times. I could always see their features soften a little bit as the stress from whatever was on their minds melted away at the presence of the vixen standing near them. The last step was always the biggest turn on. No matter how old or what gender, as long as they were old enough to be thinking about sex at all, all people given enough exposure to Mary Jane, would start to fantasize. I would watch as their mouths relaxed and tongues came out to lick their lips. Depending on the weather I would watch nipples harden on women’s breasts and bulges grow in men’s pants. Watching it all made my own dick stiffen slightly. Even if these people weren’t turned on by her in particular, she made everyone around her think of sex.
Of course, for me thinking of sex and thinking of her were one and the same. As soon as I saw her 38-24-34 hourglass figure approaching, my thoughts drifted off to the times we had spent together worshiping each others bodies. She liked for me to fuck her tits and cum on her face on a regular basis, and allowed me to fuck her in any position I could name or describe. We had plenty of opportunity, since her parents were often out of town and her father owned one of the finest porn collections I’ve ever seen. We liked to watch the movies and duplicate the scenes. We had a few that were our favorites that we watched frequently, but occasionally she would send me to pick a new one randomly from his porn closet. As you can imagine, she was a distraction at school. It got to the point were I had to make sure to sit in front of her, where I couldn’t see her, so that I would be able to concentrate on the class instead of imagining new ways to get my cock buried in her willing body.
We were finally completely out about our relationship. My parents weren’t too thrilled about it, mainly since they wanted me to focus on my school work. I think it was just that my father spent a little too much time looking at Mary Jane, so my mother didn’t like to have her around. It was good to not go sneaking around and lying, but unfortunately my parents now monitored my activities a lot more. Rightfully so, they worried if we had too much undisturbed time alone together. We made up some stories, and while they thought I was staying late at school for band rehearsals, I was usually watching Mary Jane’s tits bounce as she rode up and down my cock.
As the year came close to ending, the only thing on any junior or senior’s mind was prom. I luckily had my date all lined up, but I wanted the night to be special. I knew I was practically guaranteed another sexual romp with Mary Jane, but I still wanted the night to be special. I had saved up from my allowance and odd jobs throughout the year and arranged to have a limo drive us to dinner and then the prom. I also got us reservations at a really fancy place where I was sure we wouldn’t run into anyone else. I was proud to walk around with Mary Jane, but I didn’t need all those eyes staring at our every move and word. I had kept the plans for the evening a secret, so I was looking forward to her reaction when the limo pulled up in front of her house with me in the back.
When she answered the door I couldn’t speak. She always looked great, but she had clearly gone to special effort this time. Her hair was done in spiral curls that fell about her face, and the only make-up I could detect on her perfect face was the glossy bright red lipstick. The dress was unbelievable. Mary Jane often had problems finding good clothes because of her petite frame and busty measurements. She had found a dress that made her look like a movie star. It was a sparkling emerald dress with matching heels, and though it seemed to defy gravity, it was strapless. It was simultaneously modest and sultry. The design wasn’t so outrageous, but the fact that it was containing her magnificent bosom without any straps made it a vision of sex appeal.

“Ummm… I’m up here,” she said with a smile. It was her classic ‘stop staring at my tits’ line.
I managed to extract my eyes from her cleavage and headed up her chest, intending to look her in the eyes. She was still smiling, and my eyes caught on her ruby red lips. She was still talking and I suddenly was fixated on the red lips, white teeth, and pink tongue. I knew from experience the pleasure that lived in that mouth, and I started to deliberate taking her inside and getting in a quickie before dinner.
“Hey! Up here!” I saw that sexy mouth say. “This isn’t going very well. Do you need a cold shower??” I finally broke the spell despite lingering thoughts of a circle of red lipstick around the base of my cock..
Her beautiful eyes smiled back at me. “Sorry… I was just a little distracted. You look great! Where did you get that dress? It’s amazing!”
She put on her best Scarlett voice “Why Thank You! This old thang? I found it in my sisters closet and made a few alterations. You like?” She spun around, showing me the rear view.
I laughed and said “a few alterations? That must be an understatement.” Her sister was a B cup, tops. “I love the dress. Are you ready to go?”
“Yes, just let me get my purse and we’ll… is that a limo?”
“Your chariot awaits, my lady.” I had practiced that line for a week. I think I nailed it as she promptly took my arm and we walked down to the car. I helped her in and then climbed in after. I motioned for the driver to proceed and then settled in next to Mary Jane.
She leaned against me, pressing one of her tits into my arm. I always wondered if she knew she was doing it. Either way it turned me on. “You seemed a little distracted back there. Is something wrong? Is something on your mind?”
“No, nothing’s wrong. That dress is just amazing on you. I saw you open the door and my brain kind of froze.” I knew she wouldn’t mind. In fact she usually took it as a complement.
“What’s so distracting about this dress?” she asked. As she did, she leaned forward slightly, exposing even more of her cleavage to me.
“It’s just really sexy.”
“What’s so sexy about it? If you don’t tell me, how will I know what to wear in the future?” She got really close and my face was only inches from a wide expanse of titflesh. “You can tell me, what is so sexy about this dress?”
Even though I knew she wanted to hear it, I still felt nervous exposing my feelings to her. I guess that is all part of the game.
“Umm… It really shows off your body.” I thought that would do it, but she started to pout and pull away. She was always trying to encourage me to be more expressive. Once we got things going, I always managed to open up and say what was on my mind, but in general I was a very reserved, shy person. I knew it meant a lot to her if I could just stop holding back and let it out. “I mean…” I had to convince myself to go for it, “your tits look really hot!” I took her smile and nod as an encouragement to continue. “They really are pushed up and out. I can barely look without imagining them bursting out for me to play with.”
“What else, lover?” she knew there was more. “There was something else that kept you from looking into my eyes.” She pursed her lips and extended the tip of her tongue only slightly.
“It was your lips, Mary Jane. They look so shiny and soft, and they contrast with the white of your teeth and pink of your tongue. It makes me want to get lost in your mouth. Okay… I confess, I was daydreaming of taking you inside and using that hot red mouth properly. I was imagining seeing those ruby red lips stretched around my cock.” It was making me hard to talk like that, and she could tell. She kissed the air in front of me and leaned close to my ear.
“Take it out,” she said with her smoky sexy voice. “Take out your cock.”
I had my rented tux unbuttoned and unzipped in seconds. My hardening cock stiffened in the cool air. Mary Jane brought her head down to my dick. She gave my cock a hot open mouth kiss on the head and then swirled her pink tongue around the rim. I moaned “oh yeah… this is so hot.”
Mary Jane gave one last loud kiss then pulled away. I started to whimper just a little, but then she said “Don’t worry lover. I don’t want to mess up my make-up just yet, but I’m going to make all your dreams come true. I have a few surprises of my own in store for you. Just try to keep yourself contained until after the prom and then the real fun begins!” She whispered while casually stroking my cock.
I wanted her to keep going, but I didn’t want to walk into the restaurant with a bulge in my pants, so I gently pushed her away and said “Unless you want me to explode before the party even starts, you’re going to have to go a little easier on my poor cock. He wants you enough as it is. I’m hardly going to be able to look at you without thinking of sex. Then again, that’s how it is everyday. I suppose I can do it for a few hours.” Then I started looking out the window and noticed we were close. “We should be eating dinner soon. Are you hungry?”
She looked me directly in the eyes and said seriously “I’m hungry for your cock. Do you think that’s on the menu?” She saw the shocked expression on my face and started laughing. “Sorry! Sorry, I know what kind of effect that has on you. I’ll try to keep the animal inside. Yes… I am hungry…”
“Good,” I replied, blushing slightly, “We’re here. Let’s eat.”
We had a fabulous dinner in a really fancy place. It was almost embarrassing how extravagant everything was. As expected, we didn’t run into anyone else we knew. As it was, Mary Jane was turning enough heads and causing enough controversies. I saw at least a dozen couples where the man was so distracted that the woman had to snap him out of it physically. There were even two couples who ended up storming out. On their way out, the women invariably glared at us and the men were always trying to get one more look at Mary Jane. All the excitement made me feel special for being close to her, but she always seemed to ignore it. I could never tell if it annoyed her or excited her to have that affect on people.
While we looked at the menus Mary Jane whispered to me, “Are you sure you can afford this? Have you seen the menu?”
“Don’t worry. Get whatever you want, I’ve been saving up for tonight.” In truth I couldn’t afford it. I was going to blow a couple months of savings on this one evening. It was all worth it though, if there was some more ‘blowing’ going on before the evening ended.
“You’re so good to me,” Mary Jane said. “I just hope I get a chance to be good to you, too.” She winked at me.
I don’t really remember what we talked about at dinner. I just kept wondering what sort of surprises she was planning. We hadn’t discussed any plans or fantasies together, and she hadn’t mentioned anything earlier about this being a big night. By the time dinner ended and we were walking out to the car, I was burning with curiosity. As we walked I slid my arm down her back until my hand grabbed her ass. She jumped a little but then settled back down.
“So, what kind of excitement do you have planned for us?” I squeezed her ass a little to encourage her to tell me.
“Now now, you know a secret is only fun as long as it is a secret. You’ll find out in good time.” She swatted my hand away and reached to hold it in her own hand.
“Can I have a hint?”
“Well… I was thinking that we could try an experiment. So it is going to be something new. I didn’t invent anything, it’s just new to me.”
“Is it new to me?”
She looked into my eyes. “Honey, everything is new to you.”
We got into the limo and rode to the prom. On the way I tried not to stare at her. I was really turned on by all the anticipation and almost wanted to skip the prom and move straight into the after-prom festivities. She kept posing for me and giggling at my condition. Finally she slid over close to me and snuggled against my arm.
“I’ve really been thinking a lot about our relationship,” she started. “You really are something special, and I think that we have a really great thing going here.”
“Yeah?” I wasn’t sure where this had come from.
“I just want to be sure that you feel the same way, too. I don’t want to get too involved only to find out I was being a fool.”
I was not at all sure what she was thinking. She obviously had something on her mind. Every now and then she got a little insecure and needed to hear about my feelings. I was always completely sincere with her, and I had developed what I thought were true feelings for her. Looking back, I realize that those feelings in the beginning were helped a lot be the frequent and intense opportunities to get into her pants. At the time, however, I thought it was the real deal, so I told her.
“I’m completely there with you, Mary Jane. I wasn’t sure what was going on or how to transition from you being my ultimate crush to you being my girlfriend, but I think I’ve figured it out. I think about you almost all the time, and I only want to protect you and make you smile. You aren’t a fool. You’re my angel.”
“Really, I’m your angel?” she looked at me with perfect brown doe-eyes.
“Yeah… my angel. You represent perfect beauty and love, and you watch over me when I sleep. How else do you explain how you end up in my dreams. At the same time, it’s my little secret that sometimes you’re no angel at all. And as long as you share that side with me only, you’ll be my perfect angel.”
She rested against my arm and said “You’re amazing. How did I get so lucky to end up here with you?”
“I’m the lucky one, Mary Jane.”
“You just go on believing that, but I thank God everyday that you stand next to me and give me your love. I know I don’t deserve it, so I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you in my life.” She was really holding on to me now. Sometimes she got really scared about being alone. I think it was left over from rocky times in her parents’ marriage when she was five. She claimed her mother and father took turns staying away for weeks at a time, leaving in the morning and not coming back until the fight cooled off. Who knows what actually happened, but filtered through a five-year-olds need for security and permanence, it left her with strong abandonment issues.
“I’m not going anywhere, Mary Jane. I’m all yours.”
She smiled and said. “You always know what to say. And it always works.” She looked out the window. “We’re here! Wow, look at how they decorated it!”
We rolled up to the prom, got out, and made our way inside.
We spent the prom dancing with each other and talking with friends. Most of the conversations for the evening revolved around who was there with whom, and what everyone was wearing. Some girls had really gone all out and were wearing really fancy, though slutty, dresses. None of them came close, however, to matching Mary Jane’s sheer sexuality. No amount of leg slit or cleavage or skin-tight design could make up the distance. I felt like I was king of the school walking around the prom with this stunning beauty on my arm. Our dancing was getting really hot. On slow numbers I held her close to me. I could feel her breasts pushing into me, and I’m sure she could feel the hardness of my cock against her stomach. She was almost short enough to feel it against the bottoms of her tits, but not quite. As the evening wore on, we added some kissing and then a little groping to the dance routine. After a couple of hours, I had forgotten that anyone else was even there. I probably would have stripped her out of her clothes right there. Somehow I stayed aware enough not to make that mistake.
Mary Jane was also feeling more aroused. I could feel the heat from her pussy emanating out from between her legs. I asked her “Why are you getting so turned on?” It was a bit facetious, my hard cock had been poking her the entire song.
“Mmmhh… I’m just thinking about later.”
“What about later?”
She pulled me closer and brought my head down so she could whisper in my ear. “Are you ready to hear about my secret plans?”
“Yes. If you’re ready to tell me.” I had been imagining what it could be. The only thing I could come up with was that she was going to invite some other people into our hotel room and we would have an orgy. We had seen some movies with group sex in them, but we had never discussed it as an option. I was willing, I just wondered whether Mary Jane would recruit another boy or another girl, and who? Then again, maybe I was just completely wrong. “You said it was something new and exciting. I’ve been turned on all night wondering about it. What is it?”
As Mary Jane whispered, I could actually feel her nipples harden through all our combined layers. I could feel her muscles tense and relax as if she was having a mini-climax right there on the dance floor. “Tonight, I’m going to let you fuck me…” she paused, as if contemplating for the last time, “in the ass.”
If I thought my cock was hard before, I was wrong. NOW it was hard. I could feel myself growing in my pants. I felt bigger than ever. My cock was throbbing just at the thought. “In your ass??” I whispered back. “Wow. I don’t know what to say.”
“That’s okay. I can feel how much that excites you. I’ve been thinking about this for a while. I saw it on one of my father’s movies and wondered what it would be like. I wanted to save it for a special time and a special person. Now that I know you feel as strongly for me as you do, there couldn’t possibly be a better opportunity.” Mary Jane let me stand up straight and held her body tightly against mine. We finished the dance and we made a quick exit. We were both ready and excited about the prospect of getting my cock into Mary Jane’s back door.
We piled into the limo. Mary Jane told the driver where to go. Here was where her planning picked up and mine ended. She had reserved us a room at a hotel where we would stay until making the rounds of the after-prom breakfasts. She had gone to the hotel earlier in the day to drop off all the ‘supplies’ we were going to need.
“I have to admit I’ve been sort of practicing to get ready for this,” she said shyly.
“Practicing?”
“Well, I read in one of the magazines that it is easy to get hurt if you aren’t ready, so I’ve been ummm… preparing my body to take your dick inside me. I probably wouldn’t have had to bother but you’re pretty big and I was worried it would hurt. I got some lubricant they suggested and some condoms. I know we don’t have to worry about getting pregnant, but the magazine said it is better for everyone all around if we use a condom.”

Edmund stood in the great anteroom of his, no their London home. Amid the deep red plastered walls and mahogany furniture, he seemed to be part of the decoration. A statue of a naked young man, with a morose look on his face. Yet the statue could move, and the statue held an envelope in his hands. Edmund willed himself to move, to look at the envelope again. But the only written word upon it, his name, still had not changed. The letters were still in the same narrow-set, curling handwriting. With a snarl he tore the envelope to shreds, clenching the remains in his hand.
Upon passing their opulent drawing room Edmund could still see the sunlight fading on the horizon. He moved downstairs to their sleeping cellar, and found Katrina laying lazily in her coffin, the lid pushed to the side. Her eyes sparkled, deadly and endearing, at the sight of her lover.
“Good evening dearest, shall we bathe?” Katrina said, followed by a girlish giggle. But Edmund did not reply. Instead he sat down on the edge of the coffin, pursing his lips and staring hard at the floor. Katrina sprang up and put her hands on his marble shoulders, hard fingernails tracing the outline of his muscles just the way he liked it. But there still was no response. Katrina rested her head on his shoulder, whispering in his ear, lips grazing his ear as she did.
“My love, is something the matter? Are you hungry, perhaps?” She uttered those last words in a husky tone of voice, one of her new qualities as a huntress and seductress. But Edmund pulled away and stood up. The speed of his movement made Katrina look for support on the coffin’s edge, and was greeted by an angry statue leering at her.
“There is something the matter indeed, Katrina” Edmund hissed “, and I highly doubt it you can spare the time to listen to it.” With that he picked up a ruby red robe and marched back upstairs. Katrina’s jaw dropped. She cringed at the sound of glass breaking upstairs. Edmund had never said a harsh word to her in all those years. For a moment she shrank back inside her coffin, feeling much like the little girl she was before she met him. Before he saved her life by making her undead. But that girl had died a long time ago. Despite not looking like it, she was a woman now, a strong woman for that matter. And no one could put her in place like a child, not even Edmund.
With a determined scowl she ascended the stone steps and strode towards the drawing room, straightening her nightgown. Edmund sat on a sofa, staring blankly in front of him, surrounded by smashed coffee tables and broken porcelain. Katrina tried not to flinch, but it was hard to see your loved ones in anguish. She walked up to him, crouched so she could look him in the eye.
” So, you decide to smash up everything we own like a stubborn toddler because you think of me as a child?” She rested a hand on his knee. ” Equals for eternity, remember?” Edmund’s eyes softened and focused upon her.
“I do, and I am sorry. But it is eternity that I worry about.” With that he handed her the pieces of the letter. Katrina tried to make sense out of the ripped pieces of paper, but a single name made a lot of things clear.
“A letter from Messalina. But why? I thought you…you had been allowed to leave her.” Katrina’s spine seemed to freeze. Messalina was the one who had made Edmund a vampire and although she had always been kind to Edmund and had learned him a lot, she had always been something of a stern stepmother to him. And a ferocious killer to others. She was Edmund’s mirror image in a way. Where Edmund loved mortals and relished in the thrill of seducing them, Messalina enjoyed to watch them suffer, to feel all of the wrath a vampire can incur. Edmund could not put up with this and told her he wanted to eke out unlife on his own.
So why this letter, and why now? She tossed the letter aside and crawled in Edmund’s lap. He caressed Katrina’s hair and smiled, but his face looked worried beyond anything Katrina had ever seen.
” There is something I have never told you. The only unwritten law of the vampires I have not told you, since I’d never think I have to.” Katrina looked up, hands squeezing Edmund’s flesh. Her grip tightened at what he told her.
“The relation between a fledgling vampire and its maker is sacrosanct. When the young one has learned enough, he can start to carve out his own niche in the night. But the one who made him can always call for his descendent to return and act as the pupil again. An unlife of servitude. The Beckoning.” Edmund yelped, pushing Katrina’s hand away. She drew back on the sofa, face frozen in horror as she put her hand to her lips, licking his blood off her nails. Edmund looked down at the wound and saw that it was already closing itself. Katrina was shivering. Blood pooled down her face.
“So you are going…..going to leave me?” There was no emotion in her voice. Her words were a dry statement. Edmund grabbed her hands, put them to his own face. Katrina blinked once, as if the sudden feeling of movement brought her back to her senses.
“Yes I am going. And you’re coming with me. Rules be damned, I will not be shackled like some undying slave. And I will not desert you. Equals and lovers for eternity, remember?” Edmund forced a smile upon his face as Katrina nodded and buried her face in his chest, sobbing uncontrollably. He wrapped his arm around her, smelling last night’s oils still in her hair.
“I will not let you be taken away from me. I…I will fight for you.” Katrina’s determination rang sharp and clear amidst the sobs. Reverently she kissed the place where she had hurt Edmund, her tongue playing upon the flawless skin. Then she felt his swelling sex press against her small breasts, Edmund’s long and slender cock with his rich blue veins there for the taking. Without any hesitation she lifted her nightgown and threw it off, straddling Edmund. Katrina purred, the sheer thrill of two naked preternatural bodies sliding against each other still as intense as ever. Edmund kissed Katrina hard, his tongue as cool as a mountain spring in her mouth. She pressed her hips against his, and with a simple gesture of her fingers she was deep inside of her, the walls of her vagina shaped to envelop him perfectly. Edmund’s muscles flexed as she gyrated her hips, back arched and looking down upon her troubled lover, who forgot his problems for a while.
A sheen of blood sweat covered both of them, Edmund moaning loudly, his hands resting lovingly on Katrina’s buttocks, squeezing the supple flesh as she kept rising and falling onto his cock. Katrina had her eyes closed, swaying as she willed her body to move faster, seemingly melting around Edmund’s hardness. She thrust her body down hard and dug her nails in Edmund’s chest as she fell into the throes of a deep and all-encompassing orgasm. Her cunt muscles twitched and cramped up and as Katrina let out a crooning moan, Edmund pulled her body close to her and came inside of her. Blood for blood. Happy to be in each other’s arms, they lay amidst the debris, frozen in their love, the restless beast of fear and anticipation running amok inside of their hearts.
You can have anything you want if you want it desperately enough. You must want it with an inner exuberance that erupts through the skin and joins the energy that created the world.
-Sarah Graham-
Fog covered the London streets. Even this metropolis quieted down at this hour. The police surely would have halted and interrogated the two strange figures who strode to the outskirts of the city with bold strides. Katrina was dressed in a dark purple dress, sleeveless and her ankles showing. She had fashioned it after the garments Greek women used to wear. Her hair was braided, the thick braid flapping after her as she walked fast. Edmund had donned a grey suit for a change, looking very much like a contemporary gentleman if not for his thick auburn hair that rested on his shoulders. The click-clack of his cane bounced off against the high walls of the factories they were approaching. More and more of these stinking juggernauts marred the London landscape where there had once been lush heaths and trees. This is where Messalina had set up shop, according to the address they had found on the scraps of paper. Edmund scowled at the sight of this place. Somehow it seemed to fit perfectly with Messalina’s attitude towards people. Haphazardly built houses were clustered together, their façades already grimy from the factories’ smoke and fumes. The people inside were all fast asleep, faces covered in filth and looking almost as pale and drawn as Katrina…and himself.
In the dim light of the moon he a crucifix hanging upon the wall of one of the hovels. The countenance of the Christ flashed brightly, yet He gave no hope to the poor people clustered in the cramped living room. You have died for their sins, but where is their Saviour now? But no everyone was asleep. Edmund broke free of his sombre musings and saw that Katrina stood some distance away from him, bathed in the scarce light coming from the factory. It was the place where Messalina now dwelt. Men, women, children…they all lumbered toward the factory doors, or away from it, tired faces gazing at the street, all bent backs and broken lives. Katrina seemed a purple-clad goddess, her arms slightly lifted, her gloved fingertips lightly touching people that come close enough. But as Edmund stepped closer he saw that she was none of the sort. Her cold gaze was fixed upon the factory, ears twitching slightly.
“I hear movement below ground. I suppose Messalina has dug herself in.” She turned to face Edmund. “Do you think she will let us go, after you have told her you refuse the Beckoning?” Edmund looked glumly at the weaving machines clattering inside of the hall, the children crawling under them. The scent of spilled blood filled his nostrils, making him queasy. What a waste, a sin to die so uselessly.
“I don’t think she will let us walk away once she has heard the news,” Edmund said “do you trust your powers enough by now to use them?” Katrina nodded, but was not sure. Over the years she had grown stronger. She loved walking the streets alone, punishing lechers and muggers who dare to bother her. Yes, she was strong. Edmund had told her of stranger things. Some legendary vampires he told, were able to fly or even change their shape into an animal. He had also told her that Messalina was far older than any vampire in the city. Vampires never reveal the full extent of their powers, but Edmund knew that Messalina was a fierce creature and a torturer.
“I’m ready to kill anyone who stands in our way, my love.”
Not a soul looked up at them as they walked inside the huge hall. The entire place reeked of sweat and chemicals. Katrina took Edmund’s hand and he lead her deftly to the far end of the factory. Katrina had not noticed, but small “M’s” were left on machines, on the floor, even on some labourers. Edmund knew where he had to go. He halted suddenly, his mouth open in surprise, long canines springing out from his jaw. Next to a door decorated with a far larger sign, stood a small man. He was dressed immaculately: A black coat with a red trim, black suit cut in the latest fashion, red shirt underneath it. His hair was greying at the temples, and a few creases showed around his uncaring eyes. He smirked at the sight of his mistress’ guests.
“Alaric,” Edmund whispered. But he was sure he could hear him. Katrina stepped between the two. Somehow he felt wrong, no heartbeat. She wanted to protect Edmund, yet was tremendously curious as well. The first other vampire she had ever seen. But as this Alaric stepped closer she hurried back to Edmund’s side. The man did not walk, he hovered, his feet barely touching the floor.
“Edmund, my brother in blood and spirit,” the man said as he embraced Edmund. A mock embrace. Edmund pushed him away gently, which did not amuse Alaric.
“So have heeded the Beckoning?” Edmund asked dryly. Alaric nodded. ” Merely paying what the Devil’s due, brother. Come, she’s waiting for you below.
Edmund grunted and nodded, leading Katrina to the door. She could feel Alaric’s eyes burning holes in her back. “Edmund…is he really?”
“My brother, yes. In a sense. Messalina made him centuries ago. He was an inquisitor.” Katrina nodded in consent, finding it hard what to think of creatures that old. As they walked down steel steps, she kept asking things about Alaric. Edmund could not tell that much: he was Messalina’s first fledgling, and after a big row he had gone overseas. She received letters sometime back when Edmund was still under her care, and she would be irritated for nights on end. Yet now he had returned. Edmund grew silent. There were noises coming from below, metallic sounds. And screams. Katrina got that frosty feeling on her spine again.
And then hell opened its maw to welcome them.
The stairs ended in what could only be described as a lair. A great heat came from an open fireplace in the centre of the room, flaring up wildly, casting a bright orange hue all over. The walls were covered in blood and unidentifiable smears. Fire and blood, Katrina thought, our greatest adversaries have come to fight us. There were horrid tableaux everywhere. There were benches with people strapped onto them. Men, women, children. The very people who gave their all in the factory above just to stay alive. Their screams rang through the room, necks, wrists and chests bitten, mauled, mutilated. Some hung naked from the walls, and were pleasured and hurt at the same time. A young girl was going down on a bloated old man, sucking on his cock while she sobbed. Her thin naked back was covered in welts. The hooded man who held the whip kept lashing out, and she sucked harder. Yet the fat man did not enjoy it: blood and pus seeped from his left eye socket, tears streaming down from his one good eye. Katrina could not help put cover her mouth at the sigh of so much anguish and sheer horror. She was so much in shock that she nearly fell in the middle of a terrible orgy, right on the floor.
A beautiful woman with honey blonde hair was being roughly taken by four men. She was forced to suck two cocks at the same time while another would pound her pussy. Another merely jerked himself off over her until he came all over her heavy breasts and walked away. Soon another man came and took his place. The woman barely moved, her hair and face stained with cum, glassy eyes looking up at the ceiling. Katrina heard her heartbeat slowly dying out.
But Edmund paid no attention to it. All of his attention was turned upon the stage at the far end of the room. The stage was filled with soiled mattresses and people were either fornicating or forced to do so. Three large men with whips, brass knuckles and knives made sure the action kept going, beating anyone who dared or could not go on into submission. And in the midst of it all, on a large red chair, there sat Messalina. She sat there motionless, her hands pristinely folded in her lap, smiling at Edmund and Katrina. She wore red lipstick, further expanding the fullness of her lips. She wore nothing more than a large piece of light-red see-through fabric, her full breasts with large, dark nipples clearly visible. Her hair was as black and curly as the first time Edmund ever laid eyes upon it, spilling down her back.
Katrina threw an arm around Edmund’s waist as they both ascended the wooden steps to Messalina’s throne. Messalina grinned broadly and spread her legs, revealing her perfect fold. Instantly, one of the men from the mattresses came crawling over and lapped eagerly at his mistress’s mound. Her grin became a fond smile as she exclaimed a low-pitched yelp. She caressed the man’s hair as her green eyes went back to Edmund and Katrina.
“My darling writer has returned,” she cooed ” , and oh! With a mate!” she licked her lips, those hypnotic green eyes seemingly undressing and dissecting Katrina, her body shocking slightly as the slave still sucked on her clit. “Does this mean I’ll be having two new chosen ones in my paradise?” She laughed hysterically, pushing the man’s face down hard, locking him between her thighs. Her eyes turned to the ceiling as she muttered to herself.
“Oh those endless nights of nothing to do…so annoying. But then I found my true calling, to give mortals pleasure, to give them one last rush of sensation before they pass away…”She looked straight at Edmund, jade eyes burning with something akin to madness. “…and I have you to thank for that, my darling little scribe.”
Edmund’s eyes seemed to be on fire. He tightened his grip on Katrina, and she saw veins swelling up in his neck and face. He was ready to lash out.
” What has become of you? Do you really think I’ll join you in here in your own private little cesspool? Beckoning be damned, I will not be a part of this! Nor will Katrina!” but Messalina merely held out her hand to Katrina and looked at her with those great big eyes. The edges of Katrina’s vision turned green. Everything took on a jade colour, and Messalina’s eyes were the very centre of it all. She felt her soul being swept from her feet, and it drifted toward her, away from Edmund. Messalina’s eyes were loving her, love and lust and all that is improper overcame her like an autumn storm. Katrina’s lips touched hers, a warm tongue greeted hers. Her dress fell off, and Messalina’s hands were teasing her nipples, her lips moving down to her belly. Somewhere, someplace far away, she heard a familiar voice, calling out to her. But Katrina did not want to become distracted. She focused on hands parting her thighs, fingers slipping inside of her, gentle female fingers that knew where to touch her. She moaned, leant down to lick at Messalina’s lips again. Messalina would take care of her. Would love her, for all eternity. Equals for eternity, remember. Distraction. All she wanted to hear was Messalina’s moans, because she was cumming. And she was making sure that Katrina would cum with her. Mmmm, what an honour to cum together with Messalina. Katrina. Katrina. No, not now. So close. Oh God, that’s her tongue, yes, yes! She’s making me…Katrina! No!

It seemed as if Katrina has been keeping her eyes shut for quite some time. Everything was in black and white, and colour only slowly returned. But the reality of the situation quickly became plain to her. Messalina was lapping at the blood that trickled from between her thighs, and she gasped as she saw her own naked body, nipples hard with attention, wafts of pleasure clouding her senses. Green eyes. Edmund was screaming her name, and she let herself be pulled back, caught her dress in her arms without even thinking. Messalina pouted like a small child, licked her fingers clean quickly and grabbed the licking man by the hair, ripping a big chunk out of his scalp before kicking him off the stage, sending him flying halfway through the room. Her eyes had turned red at the edges.
Edmund stepped forward, clasping Messalina’s throat. He brought his face close to hers, snarling with his fangs bared.
“You utter slag! You must have gone mad, torturing innocent people who toil hard just to survive! Who do you think you are, The Impaler! I curse your house and all who support it!” Messalina laughed the madness pooling in her eyes as she clamped her hand down on Edmund’s sex. The grey trousers were quickly soaked in blood. Katrina lunged forward, but was picked out of the air and greeted by Alaric’s smirk.
“This belongs to me, as does your little undying fucktoy. I conserved you for eternity, and I shall reap the rewards of it for all time. All time, Edmund! And I’m sure she’s not going to object to it.” Messalina spat the words right in Edmund’s pained face, but she did not expect Katrina to break free Alaric’s grasp. Her fingernails struck true in Alaric’s face, digging deep in his eyes, at which he dropped Katrina to the floor. In a blur of movement she was upon Messalina, pushing her pathetic thrown over, freeing Edmund from her vice-like grasp. Alaric flailed around in panic, hearing his mistress’s shrill cry as Katrina lunged at her, burying her fangs in her neck, sucking at her blood. She is not worthy of eternity. Within moments, Katrina felt the rush vampiric blood causes. But Messalina was not easily thwarted and pushed Katrina away. As she hit the ground, a plethora of Messalina’s followers were upon her, trying to pin her down. Katrina got up and spun around her axis, her nails raking at forsaken flesh. But the throng was too big and she was dragged back to the ground again. She called out Edmund’s name, desperately hoping that their tale would not end here in this place.

I just want to thank you all for your wonderful feedback on Part I. I’d recommend reading it first, if you haven’t already, to get the full understanding that has developed between Rachel and Brooke. I appreciate any and all feedback, and even take requests (after all, this very story was one). And remember to vote. Thanks.
Part II
“Please…” Rachel said as the door shut. She slumped back into the couch, her mind racing. The kiss was perfect. It was what all kisses aspired to be, in her mind. It was the kiss she’d shared with countless lovers in countless dreams — all male — and here it was in the soft touch of another female, a student, and a friend.
She stood up and realized her legs were shaky. She was scared, uncertain. Was she a lesbian? Was she going to go to jail for bringing a student back to her apartment? What was wrong with her? Was this a way to get back at Stephen? She knew at once that the last was not true.
The young teacher poured the rest of the wine into her glass, and drank it thirstily. She was not drunk at all anymore. Any feeling of alcoholic buzz was swept away by Brooke’s soft lips. Now, she felt a different kind of buzz, and she knew that when she whispered “Please” at the closing door, she was asking Brooke to stay. And now that the blonde was gone, she felt despair.
Was there still time to catch her? To run down the street like a fool, chasing this younger woman? What would she saw to her? How would the other girl react?
At that point in time, the answers to these questions did not matter. All she knew was that she had to catch her before it was too late. The time for action was now, the time for thought was later. Whatever confused feelings she was having could not be bad, because everything felt so good.
Rachel ran to the door, through it open, ready to run through the wet streets in her bare feet, when she was met by the young blonde, still standing in the hallway, looking as surprised as Rachel felt.
“I–” Brooke began, but Rachel cut her off, pulling her into her arms, their head tipped as though they rehearsed it, and their mouths met for the second time ever.
They kissed for about a minute until finally, Rachel pulled back, smiling, and said, “I was looking for you.”
Brooke smiled back, and there were tears in her eyes, and she whispered, “Oh Rachel, right now, all I want is to be with you.” Be with you. It echoed through the brunette’s ears like Church bells on Christmas morning. The blonde looked so lovely, her pale dusting of freckles on her round cheeks, those intelligent, loving green eyes.
She pulled the younger woman into her apartment, looking around one last time, and shut the door.
***
Inside, as soon as the door was shut, the two women were back in each others arms, the blonde pinning her new friend against the door, kissing her passionately, again taking the aggressive role. Now that she had given in to her desires, she didn’t want to hold back at all. Her right hand cradled the back of Rachel’s neck, feeling the soft spill of her shiny, dark brown hair, her head turned, her mouth open and entertaining this other woman’s tongue as her own explored the soft, wet, dark places. She didn’t want the kiss to end.
Meanwhile, her left hand found the bare skin between her shirt and pants, and marveled at the other woman’s softness. Maybe she was so used to the coarseness of a man’s skin, but as her fingers played over Rachel’s midriff, she thought she was feeling the smoothest skin in the world.
Rachel’s hands encircled the naked skin above Brooke’s jeans, gently caressing the young blonde as their tongues dueled one another. Just feeling the older woman’s hands on her skin made Brooke even more impassioned, and she lead a vicious assault on her make-out partner’s tongue, forcing it to retreat.
She broke the playful kiss, smiling brightly at the lady she no longer thought of as her teacher, and kissed he quickly once again, before saying, “Oh, I want you… I want you so badly!”
And they kissed again. This time, though, Brooke let her hands wander, creeping along the pinned woman’s stomach, along her sides. She could feel her toned body under the rugby shirt, feel her ribs, and the underwire of her bra.
She moved her kiss off Rachel’s lips and over to her ear. The brunette was wearing little earrings with pearls set in them, and Brooke was soon tonguing them the way she knew she liked. Rachel emitted her first moan of the evening. Her hands were working up Rachel’s shirt, along the lacy bra, cupping her first breast. Rachel’s tits were much larger than her own, yet they were still amazingly firm and wonderfully soft.
She kissed the brunette’s neck, who was now gasping and moaning, her eyes closed as she let this younger women run her tongue and hands all over her body. Rachel’s shirt was riding up, over her push-up bra, that plunging cleavage revealed to its fullest. With her left hand still squeezing the other woman’s breast, she ran her right down the woman’s now exposed back. It moved down her lower spine to her ass, sliding over and squeezing. “Ohhhh…” Rachel moaned. “Oh, you feel so good.”
Brooke slid her hands into Rachel’s pants, down along her tight ass. It was warm and soft, naked except for the small waist band of her Victoria’s Secret thong. Brooke remembered the illicit glimpse she had already had of this gorgeous creature she was now caressing, and a tingle ran through her body. She would surely see that and more.
With her hands plunged down the brunette’s pants, massaging the tear drop of Rachel’s ass, Brooke’s lips and tongue found her cleavage, pushing forward, burying her face between the large swells. Rachel was playing with her tits herself, cupping them through the bra, squeezing them as she felt Brooke make patterns with her tongue in the deep valley they were creating.
Her fingers played with the little clasp, releasing her breasts with practiced hands. With her shirt pulled up to her neck and her bra unclasped and pushed open, those lovely C-cups were finally revealed to Brooke at last. Her nipples looked like a painter had applied them to her sculpted breasts. They were too good to be real: light brown, perfect little silver dollars, the nubs hard, the areolas forming little bumps of arousal.
Brooke’s mouth clamped over one, swirling her tongue around. “Ah-ohhhh!” Rachel moaned, her hands returning to squeeze and clutch her own breasts as this girl sucks on the nipples, her hands down the back of her pants. “Oh God, Brooke, yes! More! Ohhhhh, your tongue feels sooo goood!”
Brooke was getting really turned on, even though she herself was not being kissed and caressed. Listening to Rachel moan and gasp and pant was really getting her hot. The woman’s sounds of passion were something new to Brooke. Another pleasant surprise in this very surprising afternoon. She was used to a guy’s silence, as she worked on his cock. Maybe a slight groan here, and a grunt as he came, but nothing like this. It made her mind jump to the amount of pleasure she could bring, the amount of noise she could elicit, by going down on this woman.
The thought of that, the ultimate taboo that surrounded it, made her nearly queasy with excitement. Suddenly, she wanted to taste another woman, not just out of a desire to make her feel good, or youthful curiosity, but out of pure and unadulterated passion. She wanted to eat her… vagina. Brooke’s heart skipped. Eat her pussy, her cunt, her sex. She wanted to slid her tongue between the moist, swollen folds of Rachel’s labia. She wanted to tongue this big breasted model’s clit until she screamed.
She stopped her assault of Rachel’s ass and nipples, took the brunette by the hand, and lead her towards the couch, where they had shared their first kiss.
On their way to the couch, Rachel pulled her shirt up over her head, and let her bra drop to the floor. She smiled at Brooke, her grapefruit sized breasts jiggling as she stepped, those brown nipples hard and protruding.
Gently pushing the brunette back onto the couch, Brooke smiled and straddled her legs, taking her face into her hands, and assaulting her lips from above. The more she shared this lesbian kiss, the more she grew to believe that Rachel was the best kisser she’d ever experienced.
The older woman’s hands were exploring her youthful body, sliding up under her t-shirt, sliding along the bare skin of her back as their lips and tongues touched and made love.
Brooke reached down, crossing her arms and gripping the bottom of her shirt, pulling it up and off her head. She shook her blonde hair, then looked at Rachel. “You like?” she asked, her tits encased in a pink bra that was now level with the brunette’s face.
“You are soo sexy,” was all Rachel said, before letting her hands unclasp the bra behind her. Brooke’s tits, while nearly as large as Rachel’s, were young and firm, well shaped b-cups with little pink nipples.
Rachel just stared at them, unsure what to do, until the younger blonde pulled her head to meet them. Brooke closed her eyes, waited for this other woman to put her tongue to her nipples.
At first, Rachel’s tongue was hesitant. A brief lick over the nipple. Then, the lick was a little longer. Soon, her mouth followed, ringing her breasts, sucking it, applying pressure as her tongue teased the protruding nub. “Ohhhh yesss, baby…” Brooke groaned. She felt the brunette’s face on her breasts, and again, marveled at how soft a woman’s touch could be. The tit-sucking was sending greater and greater pulses directly into her cunt, and she knew she needed release soon or she might explode.
She let her hand slither down to the waist of her jeans, unbuttoned it, zipped the front down half way — enough to give her slack in the tight pants — and slid a finger into her pink thong. “Uhhhhh!” Her pussy was wetter than she had ever felt it, her clit covered in her own, sexy lubrication. She began to work her clit to the rhythm of Rachel’s sucking. “Yes, yes, yes… ooohhhh, baby, suck harder. God–fuck, your tongue feels soooo good!”
Rachel must have been encouraged, because she increased her tit-sucking, using her hands to cup the other woman’s tits. Brooke’s left hand pushed the head of brown hair harder into her bosom as her right worked hard at her own pussy. She could feel her orgasm approaching like a storm. “Uh, uh, ngh, uh, uhhhhH!” Rachel, sensing her closeness, sucked harder on her nipples, pinching and rolling the ignored one with her hand. “Yes, yes, oh, soo close–huh uh ngh UHHHH!”
Right before her climax hit, she pushed the brunette away from her tits, leaned down, and clamped her lips over Rachel’s mouth. “UHHHHHHHHHHH!!!” she moaned loudly into the other woman’s mouth as she felt a tongue play with hers. She froze her fingers on her pussy, pushing down hard on her clit, she had to break the kiss as her body tensed, arched, head back, coming loudly: “HUUHHHHHHHHH!!”
When she was through, she fell limply into the other woman’s arms, feeling Rachel’s large breasts on her own, naked ones. Her skin was so soft. So incredibly soft.
They playfully kissed each other for a few minutes, before Brooke said, “Holy shit, that was incredible.”
“You looked so sexy,” the brunette said, embarrassed that she said it. “I’ve never seen another… you know.” Another woman orgasm.
“Now it’s my turn,” she said, kissing her gently on the lips, before sliding to the floor, dragging her tits along her teacher’s flat abs. She took each breast in her hands, kissed down along the valley, ignoring her nipples for a moment. She kissed up the under-boob, pretending to go for the center, but only teasing. She had a better destination in mind.
She kissed down along the other woman’s stomach, letting her hands echo behind, pinching nipple, then clawing the sides of this lady’s body. They went to work on the buttons of the brunette’s pants, and suddenly, Rachel was clued in. “Oh no, Brooke. You don’t have to do that…”
She had the pants open, and started to pull them down and off. The aroma of this other woman was already strong. “Oh, but I want to. I want to eat Ms. Fisk’s wet pussy…” She was feeling so naughty, and was happy when Rachel obliged, lifting up her hips.
Now, the brunette was left wearing not much more than a g-string, the lacy material of it clinging to the folds of her vagina. Brooke first blew on the region, and Rachel let out a soft moan. She then kissed the panty-covered mound, and Rachel involuntarily pushed her hips up. She prodded the damp cloth with her tongue, receiving more Ooo’s and ahh’s. She kissed the woman’s thigh, the skin along the panty line. It was a pretty severe cut, and she wondered what her teacher’s pubes looked like. She had to know.
Looping her fingers in her tiny thong, she began to pull them off. Rachel again lifted her hips to help, and the black panties came off, sticking to the moistness of her lips as though they didn’t want to give up the touch. Brooke’s heart fluttered at the sight. She had figured that Ms. Fisk did a little trimming to be able to wear bathing suits, panties like this. Not much more. The reality of the matter was that Ms. Fisk was completely hair-free, but for a landing strip of shortly cropped dark brown hair, starting above her swollen lips and extending two inches. It was thin, only about a quarter-inch wide, and looked clipped and maintained and absolutely perfect. Especially above a pair of fat, glistening pussy lips that were parted like a blooming flower.
Brooke brought her fingers up to the pussy, touching it delicately, almost worried that she would break it. “Uhhhh…” the woman groaned above her. The lips and surrounding area were as smooth as the rest of her body, and felt like someone had dumped a bottle of oil on it. She closed in with her mouth, needing to taste her first pussy.
All she could think about was sweet honey as her tongue touched down on the left fold of Rachel’s cunt. The richest taste she had ever experienced. “Ohhhhh, myyyy….” Rachel gasped. Brooke realized that she had no idea what to do here. She had never gone down on another woman before. She had never even seen a porn video of it. She licked Brooke’s slit, from the base up to the bottom of her landing strip, and when that tongue passed over the protruding clit, the other woman’s body shuddered.
She pushed two fingers into the moist opening of the other girl, and the velvety passage yielded with almost no resistance. Rachel gasped, then let out a soft coo. The blonde then went to work, exploring, experimenting. Not sure what to do with another pussy, but knowing what she would probably like, and trying that, encouraged that everything she did brought a moan or a gasp from this sexy, older lady.
***
Rachel couldn’t believe how far this had gone. She was helpless as this beautiful creature sucked and licked on what only she and a handful of men had ever touched. She thought to herself, it’s just another pair of lips. Don’t pay attention to the long blonde hair or the delicate fingers that pumped into her. Don’t think about nubile young cheerleader’s breasts and the way her nipples felt and tasted. Or that naked back that arched down to the floor, that butt that squatted, the jeans loose now and pulled away, revealing more of the pink thong.
The person going down on her was a very attractive young woman. Don’t think that! Just a mouth. Just a hand. But oh God, it felt so good! The tongue swirled pleasure over her sex, her lips worked where the tongue wasn’t, and her fingers tickled over her g-spot. No guy had ever been this good with oral sex. No guy was ever this precise about the amount of pressure to apply, the exact way to brush her clit or g-spot.
She played with her nipples as Brooke ate her out, and she closed her eyes, trying not to think about how wrong this whole thing was. Girls weren’t supposed to do this with other–”Ohhhh!” Brooke added a third finger, and all thoughts of how wrong this was vanished.
Her pussy was on fire. Where there was no hair, she felt incredibly sensitive, almost too sensitive. “Uh!” Brooke was circling around and around her orgasm, building it up, adding to it, but never letting it release. She clawed at her breasts, propped her knees up onto the couch to give the other girl better access to her cunt. Each time she stole a glance at the blonde head of hair between her legs, she shuddered, teetered on the edge. “Ohhhh, pleassseee… Brooke, I n-need to–oh, OH!”
Brooke obliged her at last, plunging her fingers in and out, faster and faster, clamping her mouth down on the Brazilian-waxed mound. “Oh, UH-OHHHH!” She clamped her legs around Brooke, her hands sliding through her silky tresses, pushing the woman’s head in harder and harder. The younger woman’s mouth was magical, and she knew precisely what to do with her fingers and tongue to prolong the orgasm. “AHHHHH!!!” Rachel felt like all pleasure in the universe was exploding from her spasming vagina. Her body was stiff, her teeth clenched, eyes hard and closed. “OHHHHHH!!!” She was overcome with emotion. So good. So wrong. So fucking good!
It was the longest orgasm she had ever experienced in her entire life, and when she was done, her body was a limp rag-doll’s. Brooke slid up next to her, her mouth glistening with her own pussy juice. Tears were in her eyes, and it wasn’t long before Rachel began to tear up, as well.
“That was… awesome,” Rachel sighed. Brooke smiled, eyes glistening, and moved in, lips meeting, caressing. She tasted herself on the blonde, and loved it. She sucked the flavor in, and wanted more. “My turn…” she whispered into the blonde’s ear, then kissed that, too.
“Ohhh… that feels good. Honey, let’s move into the bedroom.”
The two women made their way from the couch to the bedroom, hand-in-hand, and Rachel felt that school-girl giddiness once again. When they reached the bed, they fell into each other’s arms, kissing and fondling until found herself on top.
She began to kiss down the young woman’s athletic body, marveling at how tight and toned it was. Her tits were the perfect size for a body like this, and she wasn’t surprised to find the blonde’s navel pierced by a silver bar, two shining jewels glistening at either end. She kissed and sucked on this before heading further down Brooke’s stomach.
Never would she have thought she would find herself here, between another woman’s legs. She had never been curious. She had never looked at attractive girls and thought about what it may be like to do this. Yet here she was, between Brooke’s shapely legs, knowing that this was exactly where she wanted to be.
Brooke helped her shimmy out of her jeans, and soon, she was wearing only a pink thong. The scent was so strong that it was almost overpowering, intoxicating. Her fingers petted the gusset of her panties, which were damp and lacy. She slipped to fingers underneath, and Brooke grunted, “Uhhhh…” Her fingers nearly slid right into the teenagers cunt by accident, it was so wet.
This girl’s pussy lips were swollen and slippery, but they were also bare! She pushed the panties to the side, and was greeted with two plump, hairless lips that were practically oozing excitement. Rachel pulled at the thong, and Brooke helped her get them off. The blonde’s pussy was completely bald but for a little tuft of brownish blonde hair, no more than a wisp. It looked like Brooke had dipped her finger in a little paint and flicked it quickly up, above her very sexy slit.
“That is so hot,” Rachel whispered, thinking of what her own manicured pubic hair must look like.
“Thanks,” Brooke whispered back, seeing what the older woman was staring at. “Mike liked me completely shaved, but after I broke up with him, I began to grow a little back. I think a little is sexier.”

My sincere thanks to volunteer editor “Love Priya” for all the good suggestions and editing.
*
You will soon understand why I speak about my husband Imran in such a way. I hope you won’t blame me as a housewife when I use such language about my husband. You will understand if you would read this. I decided to write this because I want to show men like my husband what their families really think about them.
May I call him poor, faithless, liar, cruel, fraudulent and devil by nature? Imran, my husband was one hell of a snooty chap. He was always immersed in his cunning work, cheating all his innocent friends and making their lives miserable. He had barely any time for his children or me, which was one of his costly mistakes.
Our life as wife and husband was typical. I loved him and I thought he loved me. But my husband and I would always fight, often on his suspicious behavior. He even beat me to a bloody pulp and blamed me. He was such a shameless man.
Let me describe myself. I’m not a teenager but have lost my youthful vigor. I am a mature woman of thirty-five years and have four kids, 2 girls and two boys. My daughters are Samina sixteen and Saira eight. My sons are Samer eleven and Shamsher six. I am proud to say that I am beautiful- five feet tall, angelic face, long black hair that comes to the middle of my back, blue eyes, fair complexion, narrow waist and slim body. I never wear makeup, as I never need it. I’ve always thought that my 36B breasts were my best feature. For a woman approaching 40, they’re still pretty firm, full and shapely with a little sag and have light brown aureoles with brownish nipples, which still point straight ahead. The shape of my breasts is not round but conical, tapering towards the nipples. The conical shape helped my breasts to have a straight projection. I have no male friends, but my female friends always tell me my wide curving hips are my best feature in addition to my breasts. They are round and full, like two ripe peaches snuggled together side by side. Anyway I had what other women called a “cute figure.”
Imran himself is not well endowed. His manhood was somewhat small and he had very little stamina. He was never interested in sex. On the rare occasion that Imran wanted to have sex with me, it was usually missionary style and over in few minutes and then he went to sleep. He never bothered to look at me lying dry. Then Sometimes, I had to go under the shower to cool off my body or I had to masturbate with my fingers.
He never satisfied me in bed; he was utterly selfish in bed, and only cared for his needs and satisfaction. Now it has been well over a year since we last made love and he hasn’t as much as touched me. Although he wasn’t actually impotent, sometimes his cock wouldn’t even twitch when I grabbed and caressed it. As a shy and conservative housewife, I never complained about the situation. I think he was aware and even ashamed of his physique.
I believe his inability to satisfy me is why he was always suspicious about me and never dared to let me go out by myself or even out of his sight. He always went with me wherever I went. When he was too busy, he would send someone with me. He knew I was gorgeous and that fact alone guaranteed that I would attract male attention and that was enough for him to be jealous. Just like most housewives I assumed an innocent attitude and shrugged off the attention I received from the opposite sex with obvious coolness and disinterest. He was content most times with nothing more than knowing that he had such a prize wife revealing as others would look at him with envy.
However, nothing could be further from the truth. I was actually fighting inner feelings; especially for one particular man and his name was Imran.
Imran was one of my husband’s friends. He was really a sincere, faithful, and an intelligent man and like him his wife Saima was also a nice and straight natured woman.
One time an issue arose between Imran and my husband. Since Imran was so cunning, he always settled disputes in his favor. In this instance, he talked me into meeting with Saima to try to get her husband to agree to what my husband wanted.
Imran’s wife Saima was actually my best friend, so one morning I called her to talk about my husband’s offer, but it was Imran who answered the phone not Saima. Imran told me that Saima has gone to her parent’s house and he was alone at home. Without thinking, I asked him if I could come over to see him. He agreed and said I could come over any time during the day, because he would be there.
I don’t know why, but I decided to tell Imran everything I knew, without considering the consequences.
I bathed and washed my hair. I know how to dress and every dress I wear looks fine with my personality. But now I was worrying about what to wear. I decided on a black silk shalwar and a red silk kameez. Like most typical Indian women, I wore bangles on my wrists, a necklace, a small nose pin, and earrings. I looked myself over one last time before I left my house.
Fifteen minutes later, I was standing nervously at the doorstep of Imran’s house. I knocked at the door. When the door opened, my heart jumped. Even though I was expecting Imran to answer the door, his physical presence stunned me. Imran stood gracefully before me. Imran greeted me and I just stood there, frozen and little confused.
He greeted me with great warmth at the door, “Welcome, Frzana,” he said with a broad smile. I just stood there frozen and a little confused. I was in the grip of some primal emotion. It may have been fear.
“Are you coming in or would you prefer to stand outside?” Imran asked politely. I was totally speechless as he talked. I was really nervous, but doing my best to pretend to be normal, I couldn’t hide my embarrassment.
“Thank you Imran” Finally, I said boldly, but felt very shy.
Imran stood aside, then shut and locked the main door behind me. He led me to a spacious living room. Imran drew the thick, heavy curtains of the living room; I looked a little confused but did nothing to stop him. Now I found myself suddenly very lonely. Although I had come to accept that I would be alone with Imran.
“Would you like a cup of tea or cold drink?” Imran asked.
“No, thanks” I said.
Imran sat on the other side of the sofa where I was seated and we engaged in awkward conversation for a while. For few minutes we talked then Imran asked me, “what do I owe the honor of your presence, Frzana? What brings you to my house while Saima is not here?”
I couldn’t really look at him and my mind was blank. I felt quietly embarrassed. I didn’t really know how to handle the situation. I was so ashamed then I was telling Imran, “I would like to tell you something about what happened between you and my husband.”
“Well, that’s something I really wanted to know,” he replied. “Please tell me everything you know about it.”
I told Imran the whole story about what my husband had done to him and when and where he had cheated him, pointing out my husband’s conspiracies against him. I said, “When I understood the truth, I was very unhappy with him. I shouldn’t have accepted the money he stole from you. I really should have thrown it back in his face when he told me about it and showed it to me, but I couldn’t. I am really sorry about that.”
“So, Frzana, why are you telling me all of this?” asked Imran
“I hid his shame and kept my mouth shut when I should have spoken” I said, and then added, “What he did was wrong and it should never have been allowed to continue. If I had been less selfish and not so concerned with my family I would have told you about his attempts to cheat you. But I did not. So I bear some of the responsibility for it. I wanted you to know the truth, and I believe that you ought to know that he has never been a true friend and never will be.”
“But why are you telling me all these things? Why are you being so sympathetic towards me?” he asked very passionately.
“Because I know you’re a simple and sincere man, while he is nothing but a cheat,” I said and then I saw that he looked at me with a new respect, and with more than a little lust.
“Are you finished?”
“Yes, I have nothing else to say.”
“OK! Now listen to me. I knew that Imran was cheating me and still is, but money is less important to me than a certain someone.”
“May I ask who that is?”
“Don’t get me in trouble. I know that you’re an innocent woman by nature, but you’re not a child. You should know who it is.”
I didn’t fully understand what he meant but looked at him and said, “I swear, Imran, I don’t know.”
“I confess, Frzana. It is no one else but you.” This time I looked directly at him and our eyes met for first time. He was looking at my eyes and my gaze never pulled away from his. We locked gazes as though mesmerized.
“But why me?” I asked, smiling shyly.
The brightness in his eyes increased, as he moved towards where I was sitting. He looked at me, giving me a grateful smile and said, “I don’t know why,” he whispered close to my ear, “but I’ve never wanted anyone more than I want you. Frzana, You can’t imagine how many sleepless nights I had spent thinking about you, when I had first seen you, and even more after I had met you for the first time.”
I smiled proudly in my heart. I hadn’t a clue what to say right now, but only managed to say, “Please, Imran, let me go.”
I rose from the seat to leave, very sad and upset. I was sure that he could see the redness in my eyes and the glistening tears unshed. He simply smiled back as he started to rise to stop me. I raised my hand saying, “Please, Imran, let me go. I’ve told you what I came to say and I’m satisfied. It was very nice to see you and to unburden myself to you. I’m sure you’re a wise man and that you now know what you should do.” I said him and started walk towards the door. Imran now rose from his seat and said to me, “Please, Frzana listen me for a while,”
I paused but didn’t know he was just behind me. Then I felt his hands on my shoulders I turned around to face him. Then I heard him sigh, his breathing getting deeper, I looked back to him and my eyes flew opened in complete surprise.
“Please, don’t go leaving me like this Frzana.”
“Why? What is the problem?” I asked.
“Frzana, I love you,” he replied, putting his arm on my shoulder. “Don’t you think you deserve it?” he whispered in my ear, while reaching for my hand and kissing it lightly. I didn’t fight him, nor did I encourage him, for I didn’t really know what to do. I closed my eyes and he kissed my palm. It happened so suddenly that I wondered if I was dreaming!
I blushed, shaking my head and slapped his arm gently. I was trying to catch my breath after being so close to him. His cologne was barely perceptible but the scent lingered in my nose.
His arms came around my waist, pulling me up tightly against him. I looked up into his face, sure that I would see some kind of sign. He gently pushed me against the wall, so his body was pressed against mine and again I caught the scent of his cologne, which was starting to get to me. He began kissing my hands softly and then he took me into his arms, pulling me close to him. Suddenly for the first time in my life I was in another man’s arms.
His hands were everywhere. I tried to fight them but they were so strong. I was scared, confused, excited. He held me against him, one arm wrapped around my waist, squeezing tighter and tighter. My struggling subsided as he let me feel his strength, just enough to let me know that I would not get away unless he wished it. I stopped