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The Study

By: slave2seven



For years now I have been friends with this woman who runs a book store down the street. I would go in to visit, trade in books and hang out. Anne is about 5' 2" or so in her 40-50's I would guess with graying long hair, a very simple hippie look. She has a nice body, thin and in shape and always seems to wear something displaying her large tits, but not in a ridiculous way. She is very fair skin as her hair still retains most of the blonde in it and you can see veins skimming the surface of her exposed tit flesh. I always grab a few lingering glances over the years at these beauties. Our friendship has developed over long chats of what is going on in the world, movies, and sports and of course books. 

A few weeks ago I visited her returning a book by Ann Rice about Sleeping beauty, well a very erotic, porn version. She had read the book as well, and we soon were discussing it and sex in general. She said in her younger years she had always wanted to do some of the things mentioned in the book. Primarily a book based on S & M and slavery, I was quite surprised. 

She then mentioned that her daughter was working on a thesis for college involving sex, men's anatomy, and some type of study group thing. She didn't really talk more about it and as more customers filtered in I soon left quite aroused and thinking how much I wanted to fuck Anne as I drove home. 

A few weeks later I returned to the book store to exchange the books I had read. As the store was nearly empty we sat and chatted some more, and oddly she asked me if there were any women in my life and basically how my sex life was going. After all these years it seemed odd that she brought this up to me, but I told her nothing much going on.

She said the same for her for quite some time.

At that point the bells tied to the front door jingled as a customer walked in. It turned out to be her daughter after a hug and kiss hello she then turned and introduced me to her. Again after all these years, my first time meeting her daughter. She really did not look much like Anne, taller and heavier with darker hair, but she did have Anne's breasts. Like mother like daughter there.

We chatted a bit then I drifted off to look for books while they talked. Occasionally I would eaves drop a bit on their conversation and from what I could tell they were talking about her project for class. She was describing a man's cock and the amazing size and girth that she had measured for her study as both women giggled and carried on about it. She either forgot I was there or simply was not shy discussing these things in public. 

I came around the corner as Anne was saying how she was just telling me about her study. I looked puzzled at Anne, then to Jody, her daughter who was smiling like they had an inside secret.

She then told me that her study was basically a video presentation where she tapes interviews with men asking questions about sex. She said she had a scripted questionnaire she would ask and then ad lib it from there depending on how open the guy got on camera with her. 

Promising that at no time will my face ever be recorded, that it was completely anonymous; she asked if I would be willing to be interviewed. 

I said I didn't see why not as it seemed pretty simple to me. But then she hit me with a twist telling me that she would also be taking photos of me, again no face visible, but some would be naked. 

"Wow, that is crazy!", I thought to myself. I think I led Anne to believe I was some wild and crazy guy when it came to sex as I had mentioned in our previous conversations about these stories I had tried writing in erotica. I didn't get into much detail other than to tell her they were inspired by the Anne Rice books a bit and another friend. As I felt I was on the smaller side when it came to penis size due to things that had happened earlier in my life I already felt pangs of anxiety, especially as this seemed to be some sort of evaluation, but also immediately turned on thinking of being naked in front of these two women. An exhibitionist I most definitely am. What could a few photos hurt; my face won't be in them.

Feeling almost backed into a corner, I agreed I would still do it and was told to come back in a few hours when the store closed, that her Mom sometimes helped out and that we would go to where the cameras were set up later.

I went home nervously thinking what had I got myself into. As five o'clock approached I took a long hot shower and then I popped a good ole blue pill before I headed out. Feeling a bit self conscious about being naked I thought the pill might keep me from shriveling up and in a slight aroused state for those nude pics.

Upon arriving, the women were waiting for me, the store had been closed. I followed them in caravan as Anne had her car and her daughter in hers. Just a few miles away we arrived at a small house. I parked in front while they drove and parked on a side driveway in front of the garage.

I got out, the adrenaline rushing through my body, and followed them into the house. Asking if I wanted a beer, Anne went to the fridge to get us all beers as Jody motioned for me to follow her down the hall. The entire house had this overwhelming smell of incense and there were candles everywhere. We entered a bedroom that clearly had been sort of made into a photo studio. With two large lights extended up above pointing down, a camera on a tripod pointing towards a bed, cords and other items disheveled on the floor. 

I felt the ice coldness of the beer on my neck and jumped as Anne had snuck up on me and startled me with it. 

Laughing I crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed. 

I sat there watching as Jody adjusted things, turned on the bright lights, positioned me where she wanted me and turned on a monitor and there I could see myself on the screen.. 

Anne had left the room during this and as she returned I caught the pungent aroma of Pot as she was smoking a joint. She passed it to me, as I took a hit, Jody said that, "the smoke will make you less inhibited and a better interview."

"I don't know about that." I thought but what the hell and passed it to Jody. Two hits later I was already feeling it a bit and was hoping this wasn't creeper or I was gonna be really stoned. 

Anne sat in a chair off to the side and Jody sat behind the camera. She flipped through some papers and found her questionnaire. 

She began by asking my age, weight, height, ethnicity among other things like in an application. I was really feeling the effects of the pot and was feeling really self conscious about the camera on me. But it wasn't on my face so it wasn't so bad.

She asked questions about sex, favorite positions, how many partners, how often, etc Then she took a new aim and asked me things such as had I ever had a gay experience, have I thought about men, do I like my anus touched or being penetrated, and as she went along the questions got more and more graphic. I answered them all a bit shyly. I looked over at Anne who seemed transfixed on me as I answered the questions. I made the mistake of looking at her chest and could see her nipples clearly outlined in her top as she leaned forward. 

She then started to ask me questions about masturbation, how often, do I have any rituals I like to do, what I use for lubricant, do I watch porn and what do I like, toys and various other questions.

The interview seemed to be drawing to a conclusion and then she put the papers down that she had been reading from. 

She then told me that she needed me to get naked and that she was going to continue to video tape me and that she wanted to measure my penis in its soft state and then also measure my balls. 

This was a bit of a shocker as this was not mentioned before and I already was feeling pretty leery about my size as it was. Feeling very self-conscious I hesitated as I felt fat and out of shape.

I stripped off my shorts and shirt and stood naked, my penis felt like hiding in fear of exposure despite the blue pill and I felt very naked as two pairs of eyes viewed me. I didn't even look over at Anne though I could feel her eyes on me. I felt as if I was being examined and very odd with Anne being there in the room. I just stood there hands on hips as I did not know what to do with them. My anxiety of my small penis returned as I stood there wanting to reach down and cover myself.

Jody came out from behind the camera with a yellow measuring tape and unfurled it a bit. She walked up to me and gently took my cock between her fingers and lifted it up off my balls and wrapped the tape around it. I shivered at her touch as she released my penis and then wrote something down and then placed the tape under my cock from the balls out. Just over two inches she said to Anne as she jotted down this number. She then took each ball in her hand as she kept my penis in her other hand lifting it up. She wrapped each ball in the measuring tape and then wrote down the results.

The blue pill, the marijuana and her hand holding my penis all started working at the same time and I immediately started growing a hard on right between her fingers. 

I could feel the blood rushing to engorge my penis as it filled her hand. I tried to think of anything that would take my mind off getting excited.

She gently massaged my penis slightly or at least I think she did before she released it and I continued to grow until I embarrassingly was rock hard and my cock was pointing upwards at an angle in front of me. 

Now I was at the height of my embarrassment as my penis was fully erect and thoughts of past humiliations swam in my head as I waited for that laughter I had heard before in the past. Laughter I learned to actually crave. I wanted to reach down and stroke it so badly, or hide it, but kept my hands to my side thinking that would truly be embarrassing and uncalled for. I glanced over at Anne who was actually licking her lips at that very moment. 

"Perfect!", Jody said, "You are right on cue.", she joked, "Now to get your erect measurement.", she once again gently grasped my cock in her fingers and wrapped the tape around my cock, she wrote down another number, put the tape under it and then out to the tip, my sensitive tip jerked a bit as she touched it, "Just over 5 inches," she told Anne who smiled and said ...."Ahhhhh it is so cute".

Great just what I wanted to hear. 

"Are you feeling comfortable with this?" Jody asked me as she moved back behind the camera.

"I guess", I told her.

"Well now comes the next part."

"There's more?" I asked 

"Well like I told you this is a sex study in male anatomy."

"Yeah?", I said, "so?"

"Well, the next part is for us to document your ejaculation."

Stunned I looked from Anne to Jody and back. 

"So you want me to jerk off..... On that..... Camera... and.."

"Well your face won't ever be seen, or filmed."

""Yeah but,,,,," I said....

I had self consciously been holding my dick now, in a sense hiding it, but it was still rock hard. 

"What do you want me to do?" I asked.

"Sit down with your back against those pillows at first then do whatever you normally do when you masturbate to get yourself off. But when you are about to cum, make sure you tell us as we want to measure the distance your penis shoots."

"Ok, but can I go to the bathroom really quick?" I didn't really have to go but I needed some time to compose myself or something. Jody led the way down the hall and my cock led my way sticking straight out and up in front of me. She abruptly stopped and I poked her in the small of her back with my prick not expecting her to stop. She pointed to her right and said "bathroom" and as she turned around thinking it funny I stepped forward so the space disappeared between us and as she faced me with my cock now poking her in the belly. She didn't seem amused by me and she backed up and then walked around me and I headed into the bathroom. I splashed water on my face, stroked my cock a bit, gave myself a pep talk and then walked out and back to the bedroom/studio.

Man was I feeling horny, "fuck it" I thought to myself and turned my ass to the camera and climbed on the bed. I sat with my back to the pillows and looked over the monitor to see that my face was in fact not in the picture. It seemed so odd seeing my cock hard sticking straight up against my belly knowing that was what these women were seeing. I sat there, my cock throbbing looking first at the monitor then into each of their faces for an idea of what they wanted me to do. Sitting there with my penis exposed hard like that while both women stared at me was really making me uncomfortable. Anne flipped a bottle of lubricant to me and I unclipped the top and poured some on the head of my cock and some on my balls....I then lathered my hands in it and started to slowly stroke my cock. I slid my hand from the base of my balls up the shaft slowly squeezing the head each time and then down. I grabbed my balls with my left hand and massaged them as I stroked with my right. I would slide my hand off my cock and then with just my muscles waved my cock at them in the air. As I did this I did not look up or make eye contact with them, still feeling mightily unsure.

"Is this what you normally do?" Jody asked.

I was still feeling a bit shy and nodded. My cock throbbed a bit sticking straight up and I kept my hands at my sides,

"Go on honey, don't worry about us", Anne said, "Your penis is beautiful, just enjoy yourself."

"Yes, just pretend we are not here." Jody talked over Anne.

I grabbed my oiled up cock and started slowly sliding my hand up and down it paying attention to the head and the rim around it and then back down. I closed my eyes trying to get into it, feeling very stoned, I was thinking too much. I stopped again and looked at them both.

"Is this ok?" I asked.

"Oh yes!" Anne exclaimed, "You are doing great!" just relax and enjoy yourself.

"Just try to concentrate and block us out", Jody said.

"My God! Your penis is so hard! Look at it sticking straight up like that!" Anne continued.

Jody seeming frustrated with me said, "We need this to be as natural as possible so please no more stopping."

I started stroking my cock again still staring at them both.

"I wanna see you cum, honey, please cum for me. Stroke that hard penis for me!" Anne encouraged.

Jody looked over at her Mom as she said this perhaps at what her Mom had just said and then said to me, "Yes! Jerk it and make that little cock cum for us."

Little? Why this is just what my neighbor used to call it when she made me do things for her. That was all I needed, I closed my eyes again and started really stroking myself, rubbing my nipples with the other hand and bucking my hips up with each stroke. I'll show them little I thought to myself as I felt my cock grow even harder in my hand. I was getting so turned on I was getting to the point that I was no longer aware of them watching me so much as I was into getting myself off. 

I climbed on to my knees and started to fuck my hand like I was fucking it doggy style. I looked right into Anne's eyes as I did this. A few strokes later I reached for the lube again. Pouring more on my cock and on my hands. I licked my left fingers a bit getting my middle finger wet. I arched my ass a bit up off the bed and reached down below my balls and started to finger my ass hole. While continuing to stroke my hard cock slowly up and down repeating it over the head a few times then back down. Once again I got on my knees and slid my middle finger in my ass. I fucked my ass with the finger while I fucked my hand. I could feel my orgasm growing and building. I stopped stroking and grabbed my balls with my right hand and squeezed and fondled them while I continued to slide my middle finger in and out of my ass. I stopped and tried to maneuver a second finger inside me, then resumed playing with my ass.

I was sweating and knew I was very close. All I had to do was grab my cock and go for it. I laid back down removing the fingers from my ass and took my right hand and started slowly stoking myself some more while I fondled my balls with my left.

"How am I doing?" I asked the women.

"Amazing" Jody replied. "You're so sexy" I heard Anne whisper as I looked over and could see her hand was inside her shorts playing with herself. 

"Wait, wait." Jody said. "Hold on I want to measure you now and see if you got bigger." 

As she approached the bed and me I turned to face her sticking my cock out.. It was rock hard and glistening from the oils. This time she grabbed my penis as it pulsed and throbbed in her hand. No longer as gentle, she measured my cock circumference and then the balls and then holding it in her hand she started to measure the length. As she held my cock I started moving my hips trying to fuck her hand she slapped my hip and told me to be still, something I actually love being spanked I smiled, I continued to move my hips. She looked my right in the eye and I said, "Okay, okay," and I stood still while she measured me.

Glancing over at Anne I could see extremely erect nipples poking the fabric and she continued to look at me dreamy eyed as her hand worked her pussy inside her shorts. At least that was what I thought I was seeing and that was all I needed. I climbed on the bed back on my knees. I started moving my hips in earnest fucking away at my hand. Stroking it faster and faster. 

"Do you want to see me cum?" I asked.

"Anne! Anne!" I cried out. I turned to angle myself towards her.

"Yes cum for me, baby, do it, now!" She demanded.

I started really fucking my right hand as my left hand moved over my body, rubbing my belly, my legs and then back to my ass, sliding a finger in my ass again. As soon as I penetrated myself I felt my body let go.

"I am gonna cum!" I announced and kept bucking into my hand. The orgasm was here, I felt myself go numb as my balls released my cum. I exploded trying to shoot my cum all the way over to Anne in her chair. The first shot flew off the edge of the bed and I continued to spasm as a trail of cum went from the edge of the bed a few feet forming a trail to my still oozing cock. My right hand covered in sticky cum My cock remained hard as I leaned back trying to catch my breath. Fully exhausted from my effort I felt nearly paralyzed. 

"Don't move." Jody said as she again with yellow tape started to measure the distance. "Wow! You came a lot", she said. She looked over at Anne and announced that it was over four feet in distance. Feeling a bit proud of that I wrapped my hand around my shrinking cock as Anne threw me a towel to clean up with.

As my cock shrunk to a soft state Jody asked me to stand up again. She then took the towel away and again held my penis in her fingers as she measured me again.

"Ideally I would like to do a follow up interview with you in a week. I also would like to measure the amount of ejaculate."

"You mean do this again?" I laughed, all my inhibitions were gone at this point and I would be happy to do this again. I loved to be watched.

"Yes, sort of, actually we wont need to record it just need the total amount."

At this point I wanted to get laid by these women and started to stroke her hair, which her immediate response was to squeeze my cock roughly, drop it, stand up with a big sigh and walk back to the camera shutting it off and declaring the interview was over. As she picked up the towel and wiped her hands she hastily thanked me for participating and said she wanted to get her figures entered and get the video edited a bit and left the room. 

I excused myself with Anne and walked out to the bathroom; I peed, and then washed the oils off my hands and penis. I stood in the mirror looking at myself realizing how high I was. I walked naked around the house looking for Jody but did not see her anywhere. I then returned to the bedroom and I sat on the edge of the bed, naked and looked over at Anne. She remained sitting in her chair and said, "That I was quite a trooper" going along with all this and thanked me again for her daughter. 


The Study



This story is written for those who enjoy a slow build up to their erotica but I hope that you all enjoy the climax and agree that it is worth the wait.



Emily was a petite, intelligent eighteen year old. She wore her long, shiny dark hair loose and flowing down her back. University was an adventure and Emily took to student life but she did find it a bit of a challenge to balance her budget. As with many students this was Emily's first real exposure to the harsh world of being responsible for her own finances; at home she had her allowance from Daddy but, if she was short of funds at the end of the month, her comfortable homelife would always provide whatever was needed.

So it was natural for Emily to take an interest in the A5 sheet which appeared on the noticeboard in her student hall. The notice said that the Psychology Department needed volunteers for a study which it was undertaking; volunteers would be paid and anyone interested should telephone the number on the advertisement.

Emily telephoned the number and was given a very brief interview by a young woman. The woman said that those whose answers showed that they were suitable would be contacted by post. It was not long before Emily received a typed letter saying that she had been accepted for Phase One of the study and that she should report to an office block in the city that Saturday. Simply for attending she would be paid £25 and anyone going on to Phase Two could earn £200 with the possibility of more money for Phase Three. The letter gave Emily her "Personal Number" which she should quote when arriving for her appointment.

University students are a rich source of guinea pigs for experiments in psychology so Emily did not see anything untoward in the arrangement but she was a little puzzled at the fact that her appointment was not on university premises. It was a very bland tower block with a long list displayed in the entrance hall showing the organisations, mainly businesses, which were renting space. University Psychology Study was on the fifth floor and Emily rode up in the lift with two other girls of around her own age.

They were met at the lift by a smartly dressed woman in her thirties. She welcomed them, introduced herself as Sally and checked their personal numbers on her clip board. Sally directed the girls into a large room which looked like an exam room with small individual desks. A few girls were milling around chatting and being served coffee by a business suited man who introduced himself as Dan. Emily noted that all the guinea pigs were young women like herself.

In a short time Dan and Sally had a whispered conversation and Dan announced that they were ready to begin and asked the girls to take their places at their desks. The prologue was shared by Dan and Sally and was very polished and professional. The girls were thanked for coming and assured that all of them would be paid £25 in cash when they left.

"We are meeting here rather than in college as we need to take you away from you comfort zone on campus. Please accept our apologies that we can give you very minimal information on the study as we don't want to tell you anything which may slew the results. All that we need today is for you all to complete a question paper in exam conditions. We will then examine the papers and some of you will be invited back for Phase Two."

The papers were handed out in silence and placed face down on the desks until the instruction was given to turn the papers over and begin the test. Emily found that she had a booklet of over thirty pages which she had to head with her number instead of her name. Many of the questions just required her to tick a box but some provided a box in which she had to write her answer. The questions covered every area of her life including her family background, attitude to money, feelings about risk, politics and religion and even asking about her dreams and fantasies. She was also asked quite searching questions about her sex life and medical history. Emily realised that anyone reading her answers would come to know her very well but somehow the fact that her paper only identified her as G74 made her feel free to write down her deepest secrets even though, at some level, she was aware that a list must exist linking her number to her name.

Like any psychological study some of the questions were repeated in slightly different formats and the subjects of the questions were jumbled up so that the examiners could check for any half truths while completely hiding which parts of the test were of genuine interest and which had merely been included as a smokescreen. When Emily left she was exhausted and she felt that someone had extracted her mind and examined it in great depth before giving it back to her. Over several days she kept coming back to the thought that she might have revealed too much about herself in her answers. Everyone has intimate secrets and if all of those are very professionally wrung out of us we feel a vague sense of having been robbed of our individuality and even our value as a human being. These are the things which we can choose to reveal very gradually to a trusted soulmate but to have them all taken at once by a complete stranger leaves a feeling of being made cheap and somehow dirty.

It was two weeks before the plain brown envelope arrived announcing that G74 had been accepted for Phase Two of the study completion of which would earn £200 in cash and free of tax. Emily noted that this time she was not being guaranteed payment for turning up; she would have to do something to earn her £200.

Emily was a little anxious as she went up in the lift in that same building for her next visit. She knew that no-one just gives away £200 and she was wondering what she would have to do. Her anxiety was heightened by the fact that she was depending upon the money to clear her credit card debt so walking away was not really an option. Her anxiety increased when she arrived at the fifth floor to see a middle aged lady in a white nurse's dress. The lady had a somewhat commanding manner and, having ticked off G74 on her clip board, she told Emily to go into the room at the end of the corridor. In the room a younger nurse waved Emily to a folding wooden screen and told her to go behind the screen and put all her clothing and personal effects into the plastic bag provided which she should then seal with the tag provided and mark her number with the pen also provided.

Emily was not sure that she had heard properly and she queried the instruction. The woman replied brusquely,

"All your clothes into the bag and come out dressed just in the gown provided."

Emily felt very vulnerable as she slowly began to strip behind the screen. She heard another girl arrive and be directed to a screen on the other side of the room. There was a moment of hesitation before Emily pulled tight the plastic tie on the bag. Once the bag was sealed she would have no access to her clothing until someone cut off the tag. But she did not care to dally while stark naked so she hurriedly snapped the tag shut and turned to the pale blue hospital gown which hung from a nail.

To Emily's dismay the gown was very brief. It was really only a very short shift which tied at the back and left her arms naked. Emily was sure that her gown did not quite meet at the rear and, despite reaching down and patting the thin cotton fabric, she could not be certain that her buttocks or pubis were completely covered.

She felt chilly as she emerged from the screen carrying her small bag of clothing in one hand. The attendant told her to drop the bag on the floor and knock on the door to the next room.

Emily felt her nervousness increasing rapidly as a male voice bade her enter. She found herself facing a long trestle table behind which sat two men and a woman all in business wear. She was told to sit on the single wooden chair facing the panel and she sat very carefully feeling her bare buttocks on the cold seat and clamped her knees together with her hands in her lap to keep the gown covering as much as possible.

The older of the two men asked Emily for her number and the panel found her test paper from the small pile in front of them.

"Congratulations on making it to Phase Two of the study. All we are going to do today is to ask you some questions then you will be asked to wait until we have interviewed all our candidates and at the end of the session you may be invited back for Phase Three."

The other man, who was quite dishy, took his cue to continue.

"We want you to be aware that you are free to leave at any point. All you have to do is to stand up and walk out of the door then you will be given your clothes. If you choose not to leave you will be handed £200 at the end of the session. Anyone who goes on to complete Phase Three will be paid £2000 but we will talk about that if we reach that stage."

This little speech left two thoughts in Emily's mind. Firstly £2000 was a great deal of money and secondly, if and when she did turn to leave, the gown would ensure that she would present the whole panel with a view of her bare bottom.

The woman was holding the test paper and she wanted Emily to elaborate on what she had written about her attitude to risk. That was the start of a very thorough interrogation based upon her test paper.

The dishy man wanted to know more about her erotic fantasies and Emily tried to give guarded answers but the panel kept driving her to be more specific. They wanted to know if there was a common theme to her fantasies, if the same fantasy recurred, had she ever acted out her fantasies.

Emily wished she had a glass of water as she could hear her voice becoming croaky and she had to keep clearing her throat. She was uncomfortably hot and was sure that she was blushing like a schoolgirl.

The senior man asked if Emily had ever had a rape fantasy and something in the way he stared at her somehow made it impossible to lie.

"Well, perhaps sometimes...I suppose."

"Perhaps? Does that mean you have or you haven't?"

"Well, Um, Yes I have."

The three panel members kept at her asking if she believed that every woman had rape fantasies and exactly what form did hers take. Did she imagine violence? Did her fantasy involve one man or several?

They skilfully built up a pattern of question and answer so that the rhythm carried Emily along and she could not think of refusing to answer a question. Then she was asked about masturbation and made to describe exactly what she did and how often.

Emily felt that she was being stripped bare and having deep humiliation and embarrassment heaped upon her. For some unfathomable reason she had always found such things arousing and she felt herself moistening and squeezing her thighs tight together which only increased the arousal. She desperately hoped that the panel could not smell hot girl but they were seated only a few feet in front of her. All the while the panel continued to ask their questions in a calm, reasonable and professional tone giving the unspoken message that only someone very immature would object to their questioning. Emily was sure that she sounded like a stupid ten year old as her voice became softer and softer. 

There was no clock in the room and Emily's watch was sealed up in her bag next door so it seemed to her that her grilling lasted for several hours then, quite suddenly, the panel members looked from one to the other and agreed that they were finished for now. Emily was told to take a seat next door and, as she stood up, her buttocks made an embarrassing wrenching sound as they, painfully, came free of the seat to which they had stuck. She practically fled from the room feeling cold air and three pairs of eyes on her bottom beneath the hem of her gown.

There must have been another panel in session somewhere as Emily found another girl sitting in the other room. There were glasses and a jug of orange squash on the low table and the other girl told Emily the way to the loo.

The two girls spoke a little but it was such an awkward situation as they both sat there practically naked that they did not say very much. In time a third girl joined them and a fourth walked through the room in a hurry presumably having chosen to leave. Eventually the first girl was called into another room and Emily was recalled to the scene of her inquisition.

The body language of the panel gave the message that their day's work was done and they just had a quick formality to get through before going home. The mood was a lot more relaxed than the previous session.

Emily was asked what she thought about rape and whether enough support was given to victims. Of course she replied that rape victims should be given all the support which they needed.

The senior man leaned forward as he addressed her.

"The problem has always been gathering enough data to know exactly what psychological support is most needed or most effective. The only people who really know what is needed are the victims themselves and it is just not socially acceptable to quiz them too deeply. Can you imagine the outcry if it got out that damaged, traumatised women were being interrogated about their feelings during the attack? We just cannot ask the questions which we need to ask."

Now the woman joined in using a very serious voice.

"That is what this project is about. We need volunteers to gather the data we need and if we get that data we will be able to make a huge improvement in rape treatment."

Emily was beginning to get a vague idea of where this was leading but she dare not put in into words in case she was wrong and made a fool of herself. Senior man helped her to understand.

"What we need are volunteers to endure an ordeal in controlled situations and then submit to the detailed data gather which is needed."

Was he saying what Emily thought he was saying?

"You want people to agree to be raped."

"Yes, Emily, that is what we need. We will make it as real as possible but, to protect the legal side you would sign an agreement stating that you had consented to take part. The event will begin at the start of the summer break and when it is over you will go into a private clinic where you will be given five star care and you will answer our questions about the event from your point of view. You have told us that you fantasise about this and you are being given a rare chance to live your fantasy as well as doing a really good thing for real victims of a terrible crime. At the end you will walk away with £2000 but you need to understand that once you have agreed to take part there will be no backing down."

Emily had agreed to take part in the next stage and had signed the form which was presented to her. The panel told her that she would be contacted at the start of the summer break and then she found herself outside the building and walking to the bus stop.

Her mind was overfull of competing thoughts and in the days that followed the same thoughts went around and around inside her head. Sometimes the excitement mixed with a bit of fear was almost unbearable. She told herself that she was doing this for the money and to help the rape victims who would benefit from the study but she knew that there was more to it than that. For as long as she could remember Emily had masturbated to feverish fantasies of being tied up or made to expose her naked body to strangers. The wicked thrill had driven her to noisy ecstasy as she had lain on her bed with her fingers deep in her soft moistness. Emily was a "good girl" and, on some deep level, she half knew that being forced to do forbidden things removed the responsibility from her so she could cling to the illusion of being good while still enjoying naughty thrills.

Emily was still a virgin and she had revealed that fact in her answers to the test in Phase One of the study. She could not stop thinking about what it would be like to have her maidenhead taken by force and she kept wondering about how much force would be involved. The panel had said that genuine victims had no prior knowledge of what awaited them so Emily would be told nothing in advance. The event would begin at the start of the summer break and Emily should commit her whole break to the study to allow time for her treatment in the clinic but she was to have no idea of how much of the time would be spent in the clinic and how much time would be taken up by being in the hands of her attackers. They did warn her that, as they could only carry out this study once, they would aim to get as much data as possible from it so Emily had come away with the idea that her rape would be extremely thorough. 

Sometimes the fear of what she had agreed to almost overwhelmed Emily. How much would it hurt to have her virtue taken by force? Would the attackers hit her? Just how real would it be? When Emily was assailed by these fears she told herself that she was doing a noble thing in sacrificing herself to help others and she thought about how useful the money would be.

As the summer break approached the tension was almost unbearable and Emily found that the only way that she could relieve it was by lying on her bed, knickers around her knees and fingers thrusting into herself as she rolled around gasping. The phone call came just a few days before college broke up and she was instructed to be in a city car park at 6am.

The evening before her appointment Emily spent a long time going through her wardrobe. She did not want to appear a tart so she put on her jeans to be as covered up as possible but, when she looked at herself in the mirror, she thought that the tightness of the jeans showed off the curve of her hips and her backside a bit too much. So off came the jeans and she had to think again. Eventually she decided upon a white denim skirt, dark sweatshirt and thick green tights. She hardly slept at all that night.

Emily was awake very early that morn but could not rouse herself to leave her bed. When she eventually did pull herself free of her sheets she saw that she barely had enough time to reach the car park so she missed breakfast, threw on her clothes and left the flat with the bed still in disarray.

She arrived at the place a few minutes early. There was no-one about which was the reason for the early meeting time; no witnesses. The only vehicle in the car park was a plain white Transit van and Emily's instructions were that she was to go to the van and get into the back. This made the point very clearly that she was willingly subjecting herself to whatever fate awaited her. There was a lump in her throat as she put her hand on the door handle of the van and pulled. 

The moment that the door opened Emily was gripped tightly around the thorax and a hood was dragged over her head. The hands on her body pulled her face down onto the cold steel of the van floor and a voice rasped into her ear through the hood.

"You don't make a sound fucking bitch."

As the van's engine started Emily's hands were roughly pulled behind her back and cold handcuffs were snapped in place so that her palms were facing outwards and she was completely helpless. Her heart was thumping and genuine terror was overwhelming Emily.

Her captors were not content to leave their victim alone now that they had her blind and helpless. Hands pulled her skirt up and gripped the waistband of her very modest tights then she felt the garment being dragged down together with her brief knickers. Were they going to rape her here in the van? Emily was being rolled around on the floor as the van took corners and she felt uncomfortably hot inside the hood. She was aware of hands pulling the hood up so that it was clear of her mouth and a hard object was rammed against her teeth.

Emily could not keep from moaning and pleading and that earned her a stinging slap on her naked buttock and a harsh order to, "Shut the fuck up, whore."




The Study



A solid ball was forced between her teeth as Emily dribbled from the corners of her mouth and straps were buckled far too tightly behind her head to keep the gag in place. The ball in her mouth felt huge. Someone else was pulling off her shoes and stripping away her tights and briefs which had been bunched around her ankles. How many men were in the van with her? Her sweatshirt had ridden up and she felt her bare pubis on the floor of the van, her breasts were being ground down into the unyielding steel.

The men spoke to each other in harsh, whispered monosyllables but the hooded girl could not make out what they were saying. Suddenly her hood was pulled off and she saw the ribbed floor just in front of her eyes under the dim, artificial light in the back of the van. Immediately a black fabric was pressed to her eyes and wound around her head. It was a broad strip rather like a crepe bandage and it stuck to itself so that her eyes were soon tightly bound leaving her nostrils, mouth and hair in the open. A hand gripped a hank of her hair and pulled upwards so that her head was painfully dragged backwards; she moaned into her gag and felt saliva run down her chin. Her nose was running.

Then a cold knife blade went down the neck of her sweatshirt and she froze at the touch of the blade to her skin. Sweatshirt and t shirt underneath were being sliced away.

As this was going on she was dimly aware of the van stopping and the engine noise dying away. She heard the door open and she was dragged in just her small white bra out of the van. Her feet touched a cold floor which was either stone or concrete and she knew that her captors were seeing her practically nude body. The knife returned and her bra was cut away, she felt the cold air on her now erect nipples.

It was like an electric shock making her gasp as a hand very gently touched her left breast and began to slide over her skin. Every sense was totally alert as the hand explored her breasts and belly and then down into her pubic hair where it stroked for a while before slipping between her legs. Emily did not even like a doctor touching her there and she whimpered which caused a cane to slash across her buttocks. Emily staggered forward away from the stroke and a hand grabbed her hair pulling down and backwards so that she was bent backwards with breasts and pubis thrust forward. A loud shout filled her world.

"You keep still you useless cunt."

She found that she was no longer being held and was tottering in an effort to stand upright displayed to who knew how many lustful male eyes. There was no warning as a bucket of freezing cold water was thrown over her and she fell painfully to the hard floor as her tormentors laughed. Then they fell upon her with more of the bandage fabric starting at her neck and methodically moving downwards wrapping her into a cocoon. Her arms were bound to her sides and the cloth went over the top of her cuffed hands; they left her breasts naked and available with cloth above and below.

Her body was wrapped although she still had cold air on her genitalia then they wrapped down her legs and around her ankles leaving her feet bare. There was more raucous laughter although the bands over her ears shut out whatever the men said to each other, then hands began to make use of the parts they had left exposed. She was painfully groped at her breasts and between her legs then, suddenly she was alone. Emily lay still. Were they standing watching her or had they simply left her bound, abused and helpless?

She decided she must be alone as she could hear nothing but her own breathing and weeping. The binding on her body was uncomfortably tight and her cuffed hands were between her and the floor so it was impossible to find a position where the steel did not press into her wrists and her back.

Laying there was an agony of tension as she expected at any moment to be further violated. She felt sick and was very afraid that she could choke on her own vomit; she had no idea how long they left her and she did not hear them come back.

The first that she knew of their return was a knife cutting away the bindings from below her waist as someone agonisingly tweaked her nipples making her scream into her gag. When her legs and lower body were free a hand dipped between her legs and savagely masturbated her. It hurt but she could not prevent her body from responding and she began to moan as she felt herself moistening. She did not want to respond to her abusers but they had taken control of her body. They brought her to fever pitch then the hand withdrew leaving her lying there desperate for release much to their loud amusement. Her tensions were reduced by another bucket of water which left her choking and shivering.

Then a weight came down on top of her and she knew what was to follow. There was a warm, hard organ against her intimate lips and the girl instinctively tensed to defend herself against the intruder whose bodily odour was filling her nostrils. He rammed into her violently and she bucked as she felt him come against her resistance then she tried to howl as he tore open her membrane causing sharp pain to fill her body and tears to come to her eyes. The man rammed in and out of her as his body weight ground her into the hard floor and then he rolled off of her with a shout of triumph leaving her wrung out, sweat soaked and used.

There was no respite as her gag was removed and she was pulled up into a sitting and then kneeling position and an erect member slapped her cheeks. Her head was pulled back by her hair and he thrust into her mouth pressing himself against the back of her throat and making her gag. He shot his warm fluid down her throat and, as he pulled out he sprayed her face with his stickiness. Another took his place and the helpless girl was forced to felate another and another abuser so that she was almost insensible with her hair, face and body covered in congealing semen. They had gripped the hair on each side of her head and used it as a handle to yank her face against the groins of her users. Each time she was pressed against the men's bodies her nose was pushed back and the cock so filled her mouth that it shut off her air. Poor Emily had to gasp in what air she could through the semen and her saliva in between thrusts. And, despite her real fear, she was aware of adrenalyn coursing through her system and a "high" which she had never come close to experiencing before.

When her senses were barely registering she was dragged down over what may have been a large barrel so that her behind was in the air and her aching pussy was repeatedly violated from behind as her head hung down and she screamed hysterically. It went on from one position to another and they even took her anus filling her with a new level of terror when she was sure they must tear her open and leave her bleeding to death. The entire ordeal was carried out to a soundtrack of laughter and obscene shouts and she had no memory of how it ended; she probably fainted.

The next thing that she knew was that she groggily rose from an uneasy sleep. She ached everywhere and was still on that hard, cold floor. When she tried to move she found that her wrists were still cuffed and she could only move her arms a limited way. It took some time for her addled mind to realise that a chain ran from the handcuffs to a bolt on the wall. She was chained up like a dog. Her blindfold was gone and she was not gagged. Obviously she was somewhere where no-one would hear her cry out so the men were not worried about noise; they had proved that fact during her very noisy deflowering.

Emily looked around. The dim orange light came from a single overhead lamp and she was in a windowless space with bare brick walls. Rusty pipes were attached to the walls at various places where plumbing fittings had been removed. Bare wires came out of electrical fittings and there was a slight smell of oil. In the gloom she had a sensation of large machinery but could not make out the detail. Was she in a disused factory or perhaps a garage? There was only one door and it was steel lined.

She found that it was possible to sit up and she did so very slowly and aware of pain in her belly as she moved. She was hungry and her mouth was very dry. She had lost all sense of time and had no idea of how long her attack had lasted or how long she had slept. She tried to focus her mind and realised that she did not have a coherent picture of the attack; she had no idea if it had been one sustained attack or if they had left her in between sessions and then returned again and again. Her own inability to remember frustrated her and she could not prevent the sobs from coming. Although she knew that she had no hope of pulling free from her chains her body, of its own accord pulled against its bondage, making her wrists very sore.

But she was aware of something else. There was a tingling between her legs and she wanted to be able to get her fingers down there to massage her pleasure centre. It was as if she was two people; one Emily was terrified but the other, darker Emily had never known such excitement. As she sat there listening for any sound of her abusers every sense was working as never before. She had never felt so alive. She had walked voluntarily into a woman's ultimate fear and she had survived. She had also lived out every unspeakable fantasy which she had ever enjoyed as she writhed under the bedclothes trying to keep the noise down so that her parents would not hear. The "good" Emily was disgusted that she could take any pleasure from what had been inflicted upon her but somehow the sense of disgust and humiliation at being so wicked only added to the pressure between her legs.

I won't bore you with the story of how Emily was released and taken to the luxurious private clinic where she was pampered and asked to give the feedback on the ordeal which the psychologists needed. What I can tell you is that she made no mention to them of the dark thoughts which she had enjoyed. It was just too shameful to admit to that. 

She was never to be told the identity of her attackers or even how many there were but it was a fair bet that they were students. Emily's thrill was nearly off the scale when she thought about how she might be seeing her rapists every day without recognising them. When she spoke to a male student she sometimes wondered if he had been responsible for taking her knickers from her and satiating his lusts between her soft thighs. Perhaps he even still possessed the ruined remains of the virginal white bra which had been cut from her young body.

Emily secretly recognised that she was hooked. Very soon after leaving the clinic she crept into a shop where she had never been and came out with a pair of handcuffs and a large red ballgag with black leather straps. She hoped that her neighbours would not hear her moans but she was looking forward to the ways in which she would satisfy that side of herself which had been released and perhaps would never again be put back to the back of her mind where it had so long lain dormant.



The Study Break



This story has just been sitting on my computer for some time now. So, I thought I'd upload it. Enjoy.

*

"Touch yourself." she said, looking at me with lust in her eyes.

I looked up from my books with a question on my face.

"What?" I said, thinking I hadn't heard her correctly.

"Touch yourself for me." she repeated, shifting closer to me.

I couldn't help the smile that came to my face. Sometimes, she gets that way: suddenly very sexual out of the blue. She gets commanding. I love it, it always turns me on instantly. But I knew we should have been studying. We were laying on the floor in my apartment, books spread out between us, and she was watching me with that hungry look in her eyes.

"Baby we should be studying," I said, trying to resist her. But she just licked her lips and said it again.

"Touch yourself."

She was moving now, crawling to be inches away. I didn't move. I was concentrating on not giving in. She reached me and brought her face just inches away from mine. She brought her lips to my ear.

"Right now, touch yourself for me." I was instantly wet.

My hand went to the drawstring of my sweatpants and slipped past my panties before I really noticed what I was doing. Before I knew it, my fingers were on my clit and she was purring into my ear.

"Good girl," she whispered, "Now let me watch you."

She sat back and watched as one hand moved under my sweatpants and the other kneaded my breasts through my shirt. She had me so turned on, and knowing that she was watching me made everything so much more intense.

By now, my head was lulling back and I'd closed my eyes and listened to her words.

"That's right baby, rub that clit for me." she breathed huskily. I couldn't help the moan that escaped.

"That feel good, baby? Are you good and wet with me watching?" she asked.

"Uh huh." I whimpered

"Good," she said, "Now take those pants off. I wanna see that pussy." I complied immediately.

"Open those pretty legs for me." I moaned and opened them as far as I could.

"I want you to fuck yourself. Put your fingers inside."

By now I was panting. I buried two fingers inside of myself.

"You like the way that feels? You like fucking yourself for me?"

"Yes baby. I love fucking myself for you." I said, completely under her spell.

I could hear the smile in her voice when she spoke. It was more of a smirk she wore when she knew I was putty in her hands.

"You're beautiful baby," she said. I knew she meant it.

She'd moved closer to me. Her face was just above mine and she brushed her lips against mine ever so faintly. It lit me in fire. I moaned deep in my throat and began to roll my hips. She was whispering in my ear.

"You're making me wet just looking at you." she said, "You want me to lick that little pussy for you?"

"Oh yes. Please."

"You sure? Because you look so beautiful, I don't want to interrupt." she said, painfully close without touching me.

"Please, lick me."

She moved down until I could feel her breath on my inner thigh. Knowing that she was that close to me made me so much more excited.

"Mmm...your fingers look so good going in and out, baby." I could feel the words against my slick skin.

Suddenly, she ripped my hand away and replaced it with her mouth.

"Oh shit!" I screamed while she held my wrists against the floor.

"Mmm..." she moaned into me, making my whole body vibrate.

"This pussy tastes good." she said calmly into me. "How does it feel when I lick it like this? Good?"

"Yes. So...so good...d-don't stop." I panted out.

"I think your pussy missed those fingers," she said as she drove two of her own into me.

A few more minutes of her tongue gliding over me while her fingers pumped in and out, and I was quietly chanting her name. Then she curled her fingers up and hit just the right spot. It was marvelous.

"Baby, I'm gonna c..." but I couldn't finish my sentence. She pulled her mouth and fingers away from me.

"You won't cum yet!" she said, her eyes searing into me. I felt strangely turned on by her tone, almost like a reprimand. She replaced her lips and fingers, "I'll tell you when you can cum."

She said it so matter-of-factly. But it didn't have that type of effect on me. It made my insides scream, making it even harder not to cum. Soon, I was pulling her hair and humping her face while she calmly steadied my hips so that she controlled their bucking. She grabbed my arms and pinned them down next to me.

"You had your turn to touch," she said, "Now don't move your hands again."

Her tone was firm, and she looked me squarely in the eyes when she spoke. I knew that if I moved again, she'd pull them away again, or possibly stop all together. The second possibility was unbearable to think of. I wanted so badly to push her face into me. I wanted to rub my breasts. I wanted to pull her hair. But I was being obedient. She'd told me not to move them, so I squirmed until I was otherwise instructed.

She just kept going. Her tongue felt like it was doing some type of gymnastic routine against my swollen lips. Her free hand had snaked up my body to squeeze and rub my breasts. She steadily fucked and sucked me until I thought I would explode.

"Please, baby." I screamed

"Please what?" she said.

"I want to cum! Please!" I yelled.

Her mouth left me then, but her fingers remained. Her face was just inches away from mine. When I opened my eyes, she was staring right into them. The look in her eyes was so intense. I wasn't sure if I could control my orgasm much longer.

"You wanna cum while I fuck you like this baby?" She whispered

"Yes baby. Please."

"What about if I fuck you harder?" she asked, quickening her pace

"That feels good baby." I couldn't see her anymore. My eyes were in the back of my head.

"How good?"

"So good baby, fantastic, wonderful!" I screamed

Then she whispered in my ear, "Baby, I want you to..."

"Anything," I cut her off. I meant it.

"Cum for me."

I exploded. I was floating above myself. I could see her, laying there covering most of my body with her own. I could see myself panting and writing beneath her.

As I slowly started to come down, a lazy smile played over my face.

"That was amazing baby." I slurred. She scooped her finger between my legs, grabbing a bit of wetness. I screamed at the touch. I was so sensitive. She stuck the finger in her mouth and made me wish I had the strength to go again. She was still fully dressed. I felt almost guilty that I'd had such a mind-blowing orgasm and she'd not even been touched.

"I'm sorry baby," I began, but she silenced me.

"Just lie down baby." She said, pulling a blanket from the couch and laying it over me. I fell into the most tranquil sleep of my life, totally spent.

Needless to say, I didn't get any studying done that night. But it was well worth it.



The Study Fucker: Alyssa



Hey, David here. I've got another Study Fucker story for you. This time I bang Alyssa Monroe.

But first, my usual background info. I'm a student at Wayne State University on a Basketball scholarship. I have four female friends (Uhuva Blumenfield, Tina O'Reily, Alyssa Monroe, and Jeanette Ulahmed) who I've known since High School or longer and are four of the hottest women on campus. I'd decided to bang them each at private "study" sessions, but I wanted them to come to me. I fucked Uhuva around midterms our first year. Then, around finals our second semester, Tina and I got it on at the basketball stadium.

Alyssa is a four-foot-eleven, one hundred pound Chaldean. She's also an aspiring dancer. Not your normal kind of stage dancer, but an all-around dancer who knows many different disciplines, from ballet to salsa to hip-hop. In fact, our second fall semester she was taking break dancing lessons along with her regular course work. 

Around finals of that semester, Alyssa called me to ask for help with her studying. I had a feeling that Alyssa had been talking to Uhuva and Tina because she was rarely in trouble academically, as her parents had drilled good study habits into her. As thoughts of banging the spry little hottie flashed through my mind, I quickly agreed. She asked me to meet her at her single-occupant room at her co-ed dorm after her break dancing class.

I got to her dorm ten minutes early. It took me five to reach her room as it was on the fifth floor and the elevator was under repairs. As I waited there, I tried to look nonchalant. In reality I was getting hornier and hornier thinking about how I was going to bang Alyssa's brains out. I had just reached a scene where she was bouncing up and down like a superball on my dick and screaming like a runaway train when she showed up. I was actually so deep in my musings that she had to shake my shoulder to get my attention.

I turned to look into the deep brown eyes of the tiny hottie. She was wearing a black belly-shirt and tight black jeans. Her long hair was in a single braid down the center of her back and the top of her head was covered by a black baseball cap. Her pearl-white teeth flashed in a grin that provided an interesting contrast with her tanned skin. "Thanks for doing this, David," she said. "I hope you weren't waiting long."

"A few minutes." I replied.

"Sorry," she said. Then she unlocked her door and waved me inside with a sly grin, saying, and "Well, let's get busy."

I walked inside, and she followed. After we were both inside the door, she turned, and closed and locked it. I turned to her, and before I could even blink, she jumped on me, wrapping her arms and legs around my torso and fitting her mouth to mine in a deep, hungry kiss. Having expected this, I immediately wrapped my arms around her and kissed back.

When she came up for air, I said, "Let me guess, you've been talking to Uhuva and Tina."

She smiled, "After their descriptions of being with you, I knew I had to get some for myself."

"I was hoping you'd say that." I replied.

She hopped down and began undoing her jeans. I reached for her hands and said, "Let me."

She stopped and let me free her of the tight black denim. As I eased them down her legs, I realized she hadn't worn panties. Her shaved, glistening pussy winked lewdly back at me. I finished removing her pants, then hooked my arms under her legs, grabbed her ass, and stood up lifting her to my mouth. She hooked her legs over my shoulders as I began to eat her out.

As I delved into her pussy, she grabbed the back of my head and held on for dear life as she began to moan in pleasure.

"Oh yeah, eat that pussy, baby. Mmmmhh. Make me cum with that tongue, that's it. Yeah, Yeah, YEAH, OH YEAH!!! I'M CUMMINNGGG! NGHHH!"

I put her down, and she wobbled a bit, trying to catch her breath. While she did that, I removed my pants and underwear. My ten-inch-long, one-inch-thick cock sprang up, fully hard. I began to back towards her bed, but she had other ideas.

In a flash, she ran to me and jumped back up. With a wicked grin she said, "I want to do it standing."

I grinned back and cupped her ass, "What the lady wants, the lady gets."

I lowered her onto my cock, and she gasped and moaned as her small pussy was stretched by my monster. She was so unused to a cock my size that she came by the time I was completely inside her. 

She unhooked one hand from behind my neck and pulled up her shirt, revealing braless A-cup tits. 

"Suck my tits." she demanded. I put my mouth on her right tit as I began to slowly, steadily fuck her. 

"Oh yeah. That big dick feels so good in my tight, little pussy. God yeah, fuck me with that big cock."

She came twice more before asking to switch to another position. Without a word, I pulled her off, set her down, and turned her to the wall, reentering her from behind.

After a few more orgasms, I felt myself nearing the edge.

"Alyssa, I'm gonna cum."

"'Cum on my face, baby."

I pulled out and she turned around and dropped to her knees. A couple jerks, and I unloaded on her pretty little face.

She looked up at me, "Thanks."

"Thank you." I replied.

THE END



The Study Fucker: Jeanette



Hey, David here. I've got another Study Fucker story for you. This time I bang Jeanette Ulahmed.

But first, my usual background info. I'm a student at Wayne State University on a Basketball scholarship. I have four female friends (Uhuva Blumenfield, Tina O'Reily, Alyssa Monroe, and Jeanette Ulahmed) who I've known since High School or longer and are four of the hottest women on campus. I'd decided to bang them each at private "study" sessions, but I wanted them to come to me. I fucked Uhuva around midterms our first year. Then, around finals our second semester, Tina and I got it on at the basketball stadium. Six months later, I screwed Alyssa's brains out in her dorm room.

Jeanette was a five-five, blonde French-Canadian exchange student and cheerleader with D-cup tits. She was also a nymphomaniac who had fucked her way through the entire football team at our high school after learning from a doctor that she had damaged ovaries and would never have children. She even had her own porn website where she and two fellow nymphomaniac WSU cheerleaders could be witnessed fucking various men.

When she called me and asked me to go on a road trip with her for a couple of weeks of summer break, I had a suspicion that she wanted me on her site. That suspicion was confirmed when I got to her van and found her friends in the front seats. Behind the wheel was Gina Kim, a small, pretty Asian with a tight body. In the passenger seat, holding a camera was Susan Jefferson, a 5' 10" African-American with flawless chocolate skin, large brown eyes and natural 36D tits. Both were wearing minimalist outfits- tops cut high at the bottom and low at the neckline, and very short skirts- that did lots for their figures and the imagination. 

Susan smiled at me. "Climb in."

We took off down the street. "Where's Jeanette?"

A sexy voice came from behind me. "Right here, sweetie."

I turned around and there, on the backseat, was Jeanette. She was lying down on the seat. Her tan, beautifully proportioned body was clothed in a sexy schoolgirl outfit. My eyes bugged for just a second, then reality hit me.

I smiled. "So, I take it you want me on the site."

"Yep. Tina, Uhuva, and Alyssa told me you were a phenomenal fuck, so I figured you'd be perfect."

"You want me to come back there, or are you gonna come up here?"

"Sit back down, I'll come to you. Susan?"

"Right." Susan turned on the camera. "And... Go."

Jeanette looked into the camera and smiled. "This is my friend David. Word from several around here is that he is well-hung and a great lay. We'll see."

She leaned over and kissed me. She was a great kisser. As we kissed we began to explore each other with our hands. I ran my left hand under her shirt and played with her left tit, causing her to moan in pleasure. My other hand slid under her skirt and cupped her bare-unclothed mound. I slipped a finger inside. 

"Wow, you don't waste time." She reached for my cock, which was already rock-hard. "Neither do I."

She reached under my pants and grabbed my cock. "Hmm, you are well-hung. I'd say about 10 inches."

"Dead on, baby."

"I'll have to examine further." She slid down to the floor and began undoing my pants. The girl was skilled, she had me out in the open in seconds. She took me in hand, then slipped me into her mouth.

Jeanette was a very formidable cocksucker, not surprising given how much practice she'd had. Once or twice, she let go of my shaft and sucked my balls. She even deep-throated me a few times. She had me coming down her throat after only a few minutes. She swallowed every drop.

She climbed up and stood on the seat with her feet on either side of me, grabbed a hold of some straps fastened to the ceiling and commanded, "Eat me!" I quickly obliged, lifting her skirt up and fastening my mouth to her cunt.

"Oh that's good!" she shouted, "You ought to have me cumming in no time." After that, she said nothing sensical for a few minutes until she finally screamed, "OH GOD, I'M CUMMMMMIIINNNGGGG!!!" and came intensely. 

"Whew, man. If that's how you eat pussy, I can't wait to find out how you fuck."

"Climb aboard, baby."

She lowered herself onto my cock. She was tight, surprisingly tight considering her vivacious sex life. She must have done pussy tightening exercises.

We fucked in that position for several minutes, until she suddenly climbed off and bent herself over the back of the seat. "Do me doggie?" she asked. I quickly obliged and began ramming her hard.

She soon came and- after she caught her breath- asked me to give her anal. I slammed my big dick into her ass and fucked her hard. She began to scream and soon came again. I finally came not long after.

"So, what's the verdict?" asked Susan. "How many out of ten?"

After glancing at me, Jeanette looked back at the camera and grinned.

"Ten out of ten."

Susan switched off the camera as Gina called out from the front seat, "We're almost to our first stop. Get dressed and we'll have lunch," She turned around and winked, "Then get back in and switch positions. 

"I think it's Susan's turn." 

TO BE CONTINUED 



The Study Fucker: Tina



Hey, David here. I'm back. Time for another "Study Fucker" story. This time it's Tina O'Riely's turn on my dick.

But first, here's a background recap. I'm a student at Wayne State University on a Basketball scholarship. I have four female friends (Uhuva Blumenfield, Tina O'Reily, Alyssa Monroe, and Jeanette Ulahmed) who I've known since High School or longer and are four of the hottest women on campus. I'd decided to bang them each at private "study" sessions, but I wanted them to come to me. Around midterms our first year, Uhuva had come to me begging for help. I had agreed, and had gotten her to lose her virginity to me when I banged her brains out in my apartment bedroom.

Tina had been on our High School's girl's basketball team. A fiery, Irish-American lass: she stood equal to my 6' 1" height, with long, straight red hair; pale, perfect skin; bright green eyes; a button of a nose; and a trim, sexy body with size C breasts, a cute ass, and long, shapely legs. She had also received a basketball scholarship, but wasn't as good academically as I was.

She called me around finals time in our second semester. We had been taking the same history class, and she said she had been having trouble. She said she needed a really good grade on our final or she might lose her scholarship. I was surprised; I hadn't thought her grades were that bad, but I'd agreed to help her. She asked me to meet her at the basketball gym, saying that the only time she could study with me was during what was supposed to be her training time. She informed me that no one else would be there so we could study in peace. That sounded a little iffy, but a perfect opportunity to take her, so I agreed.

When I entered the court, she waved me over from the scorer's table. I walked over, set down my bag, and sat down beside her. I looked over and noticed her bag and books were nowhere in sight. "Tina, where's your stuff?" I asked. 

"I didn't bring it." She replied with a grin. 

It began to dawn on me what was going on and I asked, "Did you talk to Uhuva?" 

She nodded. "And she told me everything."

"Let me guess, you want--"

"--you to pound me into oblivion!" she interrupted, pulling up her green T-shirt to reveal braless tits.

I did not hesitate for a second, but immediately dove for her breasts. As my mouth connected with her right breast, she gave a moan and breathed, "Thank you."

I came up for air long enough to reply, "You're welcome." 

When I moved to her other tit, her left hand threaded through my hair, while her right unzipped my fly. Her hand slipped inside my pants and past my underwear, and grabbed my cock. I heard her swallow as she felt me. I pulled back and asked, "What is it?" 

"You're so BIG!" she exclaimed.

"All the more to make you cum with, my dear." I replied.

"I like the sound of that." She slipped to her knees on the floor and pulled down my pants. My ten-inch-long, one-inch-thick cock sprang up, fully erect. She plunged it into her mouth, first deep-throating it for a second, then pulling back to a more comfortable length and giving me a thorough blowjob. At one point she even took my sack into her mouth. After a couple minutes of being in her talented mouth, I came down her throat. She swallowed every drop.

Then she stood up and leaned over the scorer's table and wiggled her ass, silently inviting me to take off her snug jeans. I immediately did so. She had no panties on either and was dripping wet.

"Let me have it," She whispered urgently. "I want that huge cock."

I quickly obliged, shoving myself into her tight pussy. As I fucked her, she moaned and talked dirty to me.

"So good. Feels so good. That's it. Give it to me. Oh God that feels so good. I love that huge cock in my pussy. Yes. Yes. Omigod. Omigod. OMIGOD, IM COMING! YESSSSSS!!!!!"

She came twice before my knees started to buckle. I grabbed her ponytail and pulled her to a standing position. "What's wrong, David?" she asked.

"I can't stand any longer." I replied, as I collapsed into a chair, still inside her.

She began riding me, bouncing up and down on my cock. She moaned and groaned and pleaded with me to make her come again. I reached out and played with her tits and clit, bringing her to orgasm again.

As her screams of "David, Yes!" subsided I felt myself nearing the edge.

"Tina, I'm gonna cum."

"I want you to come all over me!" she breathlessly replied.

"Okay."

She climbed off of me and knelt on the floor, cupping her tits. I stood and began rubbing myself. After a few seconds, I came on her face and tits.

When I had finished, she stood and grabbed a towel she had conveniently placed nearby and wiped herself off. While she did that, I pulled my pants back up. She came over to me and kissed me, then began putting her clothes back on.

"Thank you." She said as she pulled down her shirt.

"You're welcome." I replied.

THE END



The Study Fucker: Uhuva



Hi, my name is David. I'm a student at Wayne State University in Detroit, MI. You may be wondering about that title, well the "Study Fucker" is my nickname among girls I've done. This is how I got that nickname.

I have some of the hottest girls on campus for friends. We'd known each other all through high school and some I'd known longer than that. Until recently, I'd kept a hands-off policy regarding them. During high school, I'd had a couple girlfriends and done both of them during the pretense of private "study sessions" but neither of them really stuck around long. I was a basketball star and the proverbial "cutest guy in school" so girls were always flirting with me, and my girlfriends were both unhappy with sharing me.

Anyways, these four girls (Uhuva Blumenfield, Tina O'Riely, Alyssa Monroe, and Jeanette Ulahmed) were my closest friends and we'd all decided to go to the same college. Despite my hands-off policy with these girls, as we'd matured I'd noticed how hot they'd gotten and by the time we were all nineteen or twenty I'd begun having fantasies about each of them. Being also a straight "A" student, I decided to give them "help" at private study sessions. However, I wanted to wait to do them at these sessions until they were desperate for the help.

Uhuva was the first to beg me to help her. It was during midterms week when she called me, desperate for my help with studying for her chemistry mid-term. I pretended to be swamped with my own studying, then said, "Alright, I'll do it, but you owe me." She thanked me and we set a time to meet at my apartment. I told my roommates that I would be helping someone study and they agreed to be gone when she got there.

She arrived at the agreed upon time. Uhuva is a 5'9" Jewish girl with shoulder-length black hair, brown eyes tucked behind half-lens horn-rimmed glasses, a sexy, Sheryl-Crow-esque overbite, an hourglass figure, a fair-sized pair of tits, and a great ass. Like me, she'd had a few romantic attachments in high school but nothing that lasted long. In fact, as far as I knew, she was still a virgin, and having known her since fifth grade, she knew me well enough to have told me if she'd been done.

When the door opened, she gave me a smile and a "Thanks for agreeing to help me study" and stepped inside. I closed the door and we went into my room to study-- at least, that's what she thought we were going to do. I had other ideas.

When we entered my room, I closed the door, turned to her and said, "Hey, remember how I said you owed me for this?" She nodded. "Well," I continued, "I know what I want you to do." I'd done this a few times before so she thought she knew what I wanted. 

"Which album will it be this time?" she asked.

"Oh, I don't want any music, this time."

She looked slightly confused, then replied, "Okay, what do you want me to do this time?"

"Me."

It took a moment for her to register what I wanted. When it finally hit her, her eyes widened in surprise and she gasped, "David!"

"Okay," I quickly said, "If that's too much for you to handle, then I'll make you a deal. You give me a blowjob and if you don't get turned on, we'll forget the whole thing, study, and never speak of it again.

"But," I continued, "If you get turned on, you do me."

She mulled it over for a few seconds, then reluctantly nodded, saying, "I really need your help, and I see your not gonna change your mind, so, okay."

"One more thing." I said. She looked at me, curious.

"You have to do it naked so I can see if you've gotten turned on."

She stared at me, shocked, for a few more seconds, then sighed, got up and started undressing. Off came the light sweater and knee-length skirt, revealing her fine body, and her black lace bra with matching panties. She hesitated for a second, and I nodded for her to continue. With another sigh, she reached back and undid the clasp of her bra, then took it off, revealing her size-B tits, firm and soft. Then she reached down and slid her panties down to her ankles before lifting first one long leg, then the other out of the panties. She stood before me, gloriously naked. My cock swelled in answer through my jeans.

"Kneel down and take out my cock." I directed. She did as I said, kneeling between my legs, unbuckling my belt, unbuttoning and unzipping my pants, and then pulling out my 10-inch-long, one-inch-thick cock. She gasped, gazing intently at the size of it. 

"Put it in your mouth." I whispered. She hesitantly placed it in her mouth and began moving up and down, while sucking my dick. She began going faster and faster, so fast that I had to hold her hair out of the way. For a virgin she was really good at sucking dick. I said as much and she lifted her mouth off me long enough to say "thank you", then went hungrily back to work. A few minutes later, I came and she swallowed every drop.

"Stand up." I said, once I was done. She did so and I looked her over. Her tits had swelled, her nipples had pearled, and her pussy was dripping.

"Looks like you got turned on." I said.

"Looks like." She replied with a slight smile.

I looked at her face as I got up and undressed. Even after all that up and down motion from her head, her hair still looked good and she was moving her eyes up and down my body.

Being a basketball player, I had a handsome, muscular body and she noticed it. As her eyes roamed my body, she got even more turned on. I gestured her over to me and when she got within reach, I grabbed her and pulled her to me. I kissed her mouth and then moved slowly down her body. When I reached her tits, I took a minute to take first one, then the other of her nipples into my mouth and sucked them. She gave a loud moan when I did this.

I continued down her body until I reached her neatly shaven pussy. When I delved into her dripping clit, she gave an even louder moan and almost fell. She kept her balance by holding on to my shoulders. As I ate her out, her moans got louder and louder until she finally screamed my name as she came.

When she could breath again, I stood up and walked backwards to the bed and she walked with me. When my knees bumped the end of my bed, I stopped. Suddenly, she gave me a push and I fell back on to the bed, my cock standing proud and tall. She climbed onto the bed and positioned herself over my cock. After fitting my cock to her pussy, she took a breath and slammed down on me, giving a small gasp as her barrier was breached. Then she lifted up, and slammed back down. She rode me like this, my right hand on her tits and my left rubbing her clit as she rode me up and down, moaning like a woman possessed, "David! Oh David, Yes! Yes!" And she truly was possessed, possessed with desire.

She came, arching her back and throwing back her head with a loud, long "Yesssss!"

After she came, she slumped over on top of me and I rolled her over onto her back, then withdrew. She looked at me for a second, confused, then I flipped her onto her stomach and raised her onto her hands and knees before sliding back into her from behind. She moaned again as I fucked her doggy.

When she came again, I felt myself nearing the edge. I said, "Uhuva I'm gonna cum."

"Not inside me!" she replied, "I don't wanna be pregnant."

"Not to worry," I said, "I'll cum in your ass."

I pulled out of her and stuffed my cock in her asshole. What a sensation! As hot and tight as her pussy had been, her ass was three times that. She nearly screamed as my big cock plowed in and out of her tight ass. She reached down and began fingering her pussy as I reached forward and grabbed her tits.

As she came a third time, I finally released my load into her ass and we both collapsed. After a few minutes, I pulled out of her. I looked at the clock. We had been going for nearly an hour. "We still have an hour to study before my roommates get back." I said.

She looked at me, smiled and said, "Y'know, I've been wanting to do that for a while. Thanks."

"Lose your virginity?"

"Lose it to you."

A half hour later, we were done studying. Turns out when I had told her she owed me over the phone, she'd guessed that I might want this, so she'd studied beforehand. As I walked her to the door, she turned to me and said, "Thanks again for the session, Study Fucker." I smiled, kissed her goodbye, and closed the door.

THE END 



The Study Group



My senior year in college was most notable for social life getting worse as my study habits got better. I really needed to graduate so I decided that a year without a party every weekend and date every Saturday night would be all right. Except for vacations, and even they were somewhat limited by studying, my only social life existed within my several study groups. Years later I would joke that on my college diploma after the word "Graduated" it said "just barely." Of course that's not true but it is how it felt.

As April was turning into May and finals started my stress level was reaching new heights. It was a Thursday night and my thesis preparation study group just broke up. We all lived off campus but fairly near to on another. There was Jack, the thesis guru, Lisa, the rich party girl who claimed her father was going to let her retire upon graduation, Henry, group nerd and social outcast but expert grammarian, Caren and Stacy, like me an average students trying to get by their finals, and of course me. Henry was the only one who lived at home so as we our conference room in the library he headed home while the rest of us took the short walk off campus to our various apartments. We had agreed that it was far too nice an early summer-like evening to go right back inside so quickly.

"So Lisa," Jack said, "Are you gonna retire to Newport or Boca?"

"Ha ha Jack, neither, I guess you didn't hear. I got into Stanford. I'll be there this fall." That little announcement caught us all off guard. We knew Lisa was a good student but none of us had suspected she was that good. "So what about you Harry, what are you doing when you graduate?" Lisa asked me.

"Umm," I wanted to stall the answer but there was just no way. We were all pretty good friends so I felt they deserved an honest answer. "I'm going in the army. I got in to office training school and then flight school afterward."

"You're going to Vietnam?" Caren asked the shock obvious on her face. Among other things Caren was also the group pacifist and had protested at many rallies.

"I don't know yet but yeah, probably."

"That totally sucks man!" Jack said. Jack was also the official group hippie and source of all things marijuana. But that also cast a pall over the group and we walked pretty much in silence until we got to Lisa's apartment. Lisa's having money allowed her to get a rather large two bedroom apartment which she shared with no one. She claimed she needed the extra room for storage and no one saw any reason to not believe her.

"Why don't you all come in." Lisa offered upon our arrival in front of her apartment. I've got beer in the fridge and lots of food."

"I dunno," I said, "I've got a full day tomorrow."

"Oh come on," Caren chided, "What have you got to do that's so important that you can't spend a little time with your best friends?" It hadn't been so long ago that I would have challenged the best friends statement but as things had gone that year they truly were my best friends at college.

Stacy had been very quiet until then and said, "Yeah Harry, maybe you'll get lucky!" Now this was a totally shocking remark coming from the mouth of Stacy, a girl most of us thought as a virgin and resident good girl. I looked at her with utter shock, as did the others, but I have to admit I liked her idea even though I considered it a very long shot a best.

Since it was only 8:30 in the evening we all agreed and went up to the apartment. Her apartment was furnished better than my parent's home was but then I didn't come from money so it was no surprise. There was a sofa, love seat and an overstuffed chair in her living room area. After each of us circled the refrigerator and all but Caren got a beer we settled down into the seats. Jack turned on the TV and insisted we some new show called Star Trek. I'd never heard of it and so was totally disinterested as was everyone else it seemed.

When Lisa finally re-emerged in the living room she said, "Boy is this a lively group."

"Well we're all pretty tired Lise," I offered.

"Well, let's play a game or something," she retorted. "How about truth or dare?"

"Oh come one," Stacy chimed in, "That's a kid's game. If we're going to do that why don't we all just get naked now and not waste time?"

I knew Stacy was being sarcastic but I couldn't resist saying, "That works for me!"

"It would!" Stacy said pointedly to me.

The Lisa said, "I've got a confession to make. I wanted you all to come up here because I don't really have any friends and you guys are the closest thing I've got to friends so I just wanted to be with you a little longer. I've been pretty lonely lately." None of us could believe what we heard the poor little rich girl saying and I secretly wondered if it was just her way of getting attention. "I know I've been a bitch some times"

Lisa was about to continue when Jack interrupted by saying, "You sure can be!"

"Hey!" I said staring down Jack knowing I didn't need to say much more.

"Anyway," Lisa continued, "I earned that I guess but I'm trying to change. So I figured if we had some sort of an honesty game I could get to know you all better."

There was silence for at least a minute before Caren said, "I learned to masturbate in my high school freshman gym class." That little revelation floored all of us and briefly silenced us as well.

I took a stiff pull from the can of beer I had in my hand and said, "I lost my virginity to an older woman on my paper route."

There was another stunned silence and then Stacy asked. "How old?"

"Huh?" I said not understanding her question.

"How old was she?"

"I dunno, 25, 26 I guess, maybe a little older."

The truth forum was in full force now and continued unabated for well over an hour. Although we talked about things other than sex most of our personal revelations revolved around various sexual escapades we had all had. It was about then Stacy caught me staring at her rather large breasts and said, "You really like my tits don't you Harry. Why don't you take a good look!" With that she pulled her tee shirt over her head and sat there in only her bra."

"Take it off! Take it off!" Jack bellowed. I expected Stacy to object but instead she just reached behind her back and popped her bra off. Now we were all looking at Stacy's breasts.

"So Jack, why don't you show us what you've got!" Stacy chided. Now Jack was known for having a big mouth but not following through. Not this time. Although it was quick Jack had his pants and underpants off before anyone could object had anyone so desired. I couldn't believe the size of Jack's cock. He was almost huge. Well, that's what I thought that evening although I'd had precious little to compare him with. In truth I'd say he was a good seven inches flaccid which had me beat all to hell. The drinking continued but no clothes were shed for a little while and none were put back on either. I was silently wondering, and hoping, where this was all heading.

Finally the silence was broken by Lisa saying, "You know Caren, if I were a guy I'd do you."

"But you're not." Caren said almost defiantly.

"I'd still do you." I'm pretty sure none of us had known anyone who was involved in gay or lesbian sex. Hell, in those days it wasn't even spoken of and now here it was right in front of us. That was the first time a foreign idea excited me. I knew right away I loved the idea.

"So does that mean you'd kiss me?" Caren asked.

"Sure."

"Would you kiss me now?" Caren asked.

"Would you like me to?"

"If you want." Lisa didn't need any more prodding. She got out of her chair and sat down in the small space left on the love seat next to Caren. At first they just looked at each other and then very slowly Lisa leaned in and kissed Caren. It was a short kiss, an experimental kiss. None of us knew what to expect but when we saw Caren smile we also saw Lisa lean back in and kiss her again but this time it was a very long slow kiss that quickly became passionate. No one dared move as we watched the two women "get to know" each other. First Lisa ran her hands over Caren's breasts and then it was Caren caressing Lisa's breasts. It was long, either, before Lisa started unbuttoning Caren's sweater and Caren returned the favor by unbuttoning Lisa's blouse. Soon both women were naked from the waist up. My gaze went from the two women to Stacy who was sitting next to me. I saw her rapt attention to the goings on and then she noticed me looking at her and smiled but said nothing. I couldn't resist her any more and leaned toward her and kissed her on her neck. Stacy say or do a thing. I wasn't sure how to take this so I kissed her again in the same place only this time a little longer and somewhat like I'd do were I giving her a hickey. She still didn't move but she did moan a little and I took this as an invitation.

I looked to see what Jack was doing and no surprise, he was masturbating while watching Lisa and Caren in their love making. As I kissed Stacy on her neck I started squeezing her breasts. It wasn't long before her hand was in my lap seeking out my now hard cock. She fumbled with my zipper and so took things in hand. I stopped kissing and fondling her long enough to completely undress. Stacy for her part removed her jeans and panties. Thing progressed rather quickly from there.

I lost sight of everyone else preferring to give Stacy all my attention. I suckled her breasts and then found her wet pussy with my tongue. Although I was a rather inexperienced lover I still had a pretty good idea what to do and what I liked. What I didn't know was how a woman would react. Stacy didn't take long in filling in those blanks. She liked everything I did. It was long before Stacy literally grabbed me by my ears and pulled me up telling me she wanted my cock inside her. I couldn't say no.

We made love like it was the last time either of us would ever be able to do so. Both of us enjoyed total abandon in our love making and the words "fuck me" and "fuck me harder" flew between us. I was afraid I would come first but as it turned out we both reached our climax at the same time, a fact that still amazes me to this day considering our ineptitude from lack of experience.

But as I was coming I noticed that Lisa and Caren had surrounded Jack. Lisa was caressing Jack's balls as he fucked Caren. The sight was incredible and quickly drove my softening cock hard again. Stacy noticed this change, of course, and gave me a questioning look. I nodded towards Jack and as she looked over I heard her say, "Oh my gawd!" Stacy's breathing quickened and we were thrust into extreme excitement quickly.

As Stacy and I started to relax from our orgasms I think we all noticed what was happening in unison. I looked toward Caren and Lisa toward Stacy.

"What was that?" Stacy asked.

There were some mumbled responses but we were suddenly a pretty quiet group. Stacy was the first to suggest she was tired and needed to get going and I said I'd go with her. The others followed suit and just like that we were leaving the apartment. Our study group met one more time but nothing was said about that evening. Stacy and I did go out regularly, if you can call it that, until we graduated and then drifted apart. I lost touch with everyone except Stacy. About six years ago I ran across her near Boston common and we chatted for a while. Although I was interested she was married so I didn't pursue anything. But the memories are wonderful and I smile whenever I think back to that fateful evening.



The Stuff Dreams Are Made Of



1.

Madeleine Stewart lay wide awake but exhausted - always exhausted - in the smothering humidity of a mid-summer night. She had cast the single thin blanket from most of her body, but it was no relief; with a very inquisitive four-year-old boy curled up against her shoulder, she had no choice but to wear a shirt to bed, and tonight it clung to her damp skin with an uncomfortable tenacity no less annoying than the unwelcome weight of the blanket. In the moist air of her bedroom, she felt almost like she was trying to breathe underwater. There was not enough air in the stuff that filled her lungs, and each breath of it felt like only half a breath. Tired, unable to relax, and feeling filthy with the warm sheen of sweat that clung to her skin, she had already given up trying to make herself comfortable. Instead, she lay waiting for fatigue to overwhelm her discomfort and drag her off to sleep.

Her mind, too, worked against her. She had been determined not to let it happen - determined to shrug off the bored indifference in her husband's voice when he told her goodnight - but her mind refused to let go of it, and she was left trying to swallow the bitter taste of her own sense of failure, even as she insisted to herself that she had not failed at anything. It was another hot and muggy night, she hadn't slept properly all week, and she was exhausted; somehow, still, she couldn't convince herself that she had nothing to feel guilty about if she wasn't feeling even vaguely sexy tonight, and simply couldn't get herself in the mood to make love. In the near silent, smothering darkness of their bedroom, the weight of Nick's disappointment pressed down on her with terrible gravity; it made itself known with the special presence that only her husband knew how to give it.

Did he think, she wondered, that she wasn't a bit disappointed with their lackluster romance herself? Probably he did. Probably he put it all down to Maddy's own lack of passion, or blamed it on what he called "mommy mode", which, she had learned mostly from context, was his cynical way of saying he thought she was so busy being a parent she was no longer interested in being his wife. If she were a different kind of woman, perhaps she'd have found it easier to come right out and tell him that she was not exactly happy with the humdrum of making love on the couch for the last two years, while their son, who now weighed a mere forty pounds, still managed to take up three quarters of their bed upstairs. She wouldn't have minded a bit of excitement herself. He seemed to be missing that part of the equation; he seemed to think that she, because she admittedly did not have the sex drive she had possessed at twenty-two, must not need to be all that excited - as if to Maddy, sex were only something she gave away grudgingly anyway, and there were no need to concern themselves with exciting her.

It had almost led them to fighting a few times already. In particular, there had been a Friday night not so very long ago, when nearly the same thing had taken place that was happening now. He wanted her - and she was no sex-kitten, but she could still appreciate being wanted - but his advances were unsubtle and a little bit vulgar, and they came out of nowhere. He was not willing to admit it, but he had lost the art of it as surely as she had lost her drive for it. There were no longer any attempts to be discreet, to make her feel as if she had a choice in the matter; he no longer put forth the effort to interest her romantically before he groped at her butt and asked her what kind of mood she was in. Therefore, she no longer put forth the effort to be tactful herself - she told him in no uncertain terms, "I'm not going to want to stay up tonight, Nick - don't bother to get yourself excited."

She did regret it - it was a shot at his ego and she had taken it intentionally, but it had seemed, for the moment, like maybe his ego needed it. He spent the rest of that day all but ignoring her, until they had what could not be called a fight (neither of them wanted to fight around Danny, they very much agreed on that) so much as a "cold war". Snapping back and forth at each other over everything, they had gone to bed angry that night, and in the morning they still were not really over it, though they did their best to let it go, and eventually it passed. By the time they ate their lunch, Nick had decided that his wife might need some time to relax - God bless him for finally seeing it - and offered to take Danny for a drive to the park.

2.

While they were gone, Maddy confirmed to herself that whatever their problem with passion might be, it was not that it was lacking within her. She, a woman of probably the most boring sexual habits in the world, had ignored a sink full of dishes, a hamper full of laundry, and toys scattered from one end of their son's playroom to the other, just to run straight upstairs as soon as her boys were gone and masturbate for most of an hour. She was not generally a woman who spent much time touching herself; in fact, in her life she had done so fewer than a dozen times, and on those few occasions when she found herself feeling too amorous to ignore it, she hid herself wherever she could - almost always in the bathroom, though there had been one incident outdoors hanging laundry which still made her blush fiercely if she thought about it - and she took care of the business quickly. It always left her with a queer feeling of shame for some reason, though she had heard and read all about how normal it had become these days, and how there were even a lot of girls who discussed it openly on the internet.

It was a highly unusual practice for her, but that morning there had been a tickle in her belly that she could not turn aside, and after fighting with her husband over her supposed lack of sexual desire, there was a quiet part of her that wanted first of all to prove to herself she still had some fire in there. It was the first time she had been alone in the house for several months - nearly a year, even - and she was not so entirely unselfish that she had forgotten how to indulge herself a little bit. She stripped her clothing an article at a time, watching the slow hurricane of cotton in a long mirror on the back of the door. No one was there to make her wonder if she was still beautiful, so she looked at her body and tried to believe it was beautiful, even though she had not lost all of her belly after the baby, even four years later, and the stretchmarks there seemed like neon streaks, because she knew they were there and she couldn't help seeing them. Her breasts had grown and remained forever larger, as well - Nick, of course, appreciated this greatly - but they were full and heavy, and they sagged more with every year; they were not the firm young breasts of a twenty-year-old girl anymore, they were the ripe breasts of a thirty-two-year-old mother and housewife, with wide, fading areolae and stretched out nipples which, to her occasional chagrin in public places, hardened like bullets when something got their attention, and were noticeable through even her thickest padded bras. For reasons she couldn't guess, her left breast had remained firmer over the years than her right, and the right one hung lower, more limp. She had also learned, with her husband's help, that the left nipple was much more sensitive, and when they pinched it and played with it, sometimes she could feel the tingle all the way over in the right one.

Seeing them in the bedroom mirror, she could not imagine any man taking an interest in her overworked and lopsided boobs anymore. She cupped them calmly and gave them a little jiggle, unimpressed, but at least not hating them. Taking in the overall picture of Madeleine Stewart, pale and nude in her unlit bedroom, curvy from top to bottom, with a thick tangle of dark brown hair filling up the space between her thighs like brush reclaiming a neglected plot of land, she was not compelled to a strong love or a strong hatred of what she saw - she was everything she had ever tried to be: a mother, a wife, a woman. It was not important to her that she had fallen short of things she hadn't ever tried to be: a sex kitten, a centerfold, a nymphomaniac.

The hungry tickle deep in her womb was a simple matter to deal with; as long as the interest was there, Maddy generally needed very little prodding. She slipped into her bed, pulled the sheet over her body simply to feel it on her skin, and spent forty blissful minutes nursing an orgasm she could have easily been done with in five; she squirmed beneath the sheet and let herself breathe and moan and whisper, "Yes, yes!" because she couldn't believe what her discouraged husband would have her believe: that the fire they had lost was all because of her, all because she had become more a "mommy" than a woman.

What she did that morning was surely not the stuff of a wild erotic novel, but for Maddy Stewart, the wonderful flood of relief that washed over her while she lay naked and shuddering under her soft flannel sheet was a welcome affirmation that she could still be kindled, that she had not forgotten how to smolder and burn. It was the first orgasm she had experienced in two months, and though she had never really thought it possible of such an essentially sinful pleasure, she found that it was extremely therapeutic. By the time Nick brought Danny home that afternoon, Maddy was walking on air, and their "cold war" was effectively over.

3.

Even that orgasm was now three weeks behind her. Her period had since come and gone, and Nick, who was no dummy when it came to noticing the little pink packages she carried in her purse during her period, had also noticed that she was not carrying them now. He was anxious to make love, and a part of her felt that it was her responsibility to acknowledge him, but there was a much louder part of her that understood her husband could, and certainly did, alleviate his needs the same way she had done, and he was not going to die or explode if she couldn't make herself available for him. She had given him a hint, which was in this case akin to a promise, that she would set aside time for them tomorrow, and if he couldn't wait that long, then he, too, knew how to hide behind the bathroom door for fifteen minutes and let off some of the pressure himself. She knew that he did - she had once cleaned up a bit of the evidence from the bathroom wall herself.

Still, she felt claustrophobic and miserable, desperate for sleep to finally quiet her guilty mind and give her peace from the feeling that she was not being the wife she should be for him, and by the time she stopped tossing in their crowded bed, she was so numb with exhaustion that she fell deeply asleep at once.

4.

She stood in the driveway of her childhood home, but she was still thirty-two, and she was still a wife and a mother. She knew these things even though her husband and son were not with her.

It was a bright summer day, warm and clear. Her father stood in the big overhead doorway of their garage, watching her, making sure she was behaving the way a fifteen-

-a thirty-two-year-old girl should. She was the only girl in their big family, the apple of her daddy's eye. It had always been that way. He was worried about the boy-

-the man with her. The man was Derek Porter, whom she had never actually known as a man; he was an old high school boyfriend, one of only three she had slept with before marrying Nick. Here, Derek was a man; he stared at her with the slightly cold eyes she remembered, but there was manliness in his face and in his big, rough hands. He wore the disattached expression of a lunatic - this was partly true. He had always been a little bit out of control; that was why they had broken up-

-was why she was afraid to break up with him. No, that was a terrible thing to dream-

-but it was the truth. She was still the wife of Nicholas and the mother of Daniel, but she had never stopped being the lover of Derek. She was afraid to stop being his lover. She was his lover because he could hurt them all - he could hurt Nick and Danny, her father, herself. He stared at her with his cold, amused eyes, knowing that she didn't dare to leave him.

She felt a wrenching sadness deep down in her belly; after ten years of marriage, she had been-

-had tried to be faithful to Nick; she loved Nick with all her heart. But if she stopped letting Derek make love to her, she would lose Nick as well. The urge to cry boiled within her, but she swallowed it because-

-this was not a dream about crying. This was a dream about Derek Porter making her have sex with him.

"I'm going to cock you," he told her icily. The voice as numb and terrible as the eyes. "You have to tell Nick I'm cocking you-"

-it's not called "cocking", it's called "fucking". This occurred to her as she listened to him use the wrong word, but he meant the same thing. Why did he call it "cocking"?

"Wait until my father isn't looking," she told him, hoping it would buy her some time. But she didn't mean her father, she meant Nick. He had to wait until Nick wasn't looking.

But Derek didn't care, he had never cared. He stuck one of his big, powerful hands firmly against her crotch-

-but she was wearing jeans. It wasn't cheating on her husband if he was only touching her on the jeans. He clutched her mound with unpleasant force, his insane eyes still glittering at her as he worked the hand forward and back, forward and back, holding on to her so tightly that he was actually moving her pelvis.

"Wait until Nick isn't looking," she said again. She rocked her hips to keep her balance as he forced her to hump his hand, and in her-

"Call it your pussy," he told her, sneering.

"I don't like to call it that," she said, rolling her body forward and back, forward and back, with his big hand clenching her-

"Call it your fucking pussy!" he insisted.

-clenching her pussy and squeezing it in a constant ebb and flow of pleasure.

"Nick can see us," she reminded him. She sensed that she was not as upset as she should-

-she glanced up at the garage doorway, and Nick was there. She couldn't see his face. He was looking away. "Look at me!" she cried over Derek's shoulder-

-but she was wearing jeans, and even if it felt good, it wasn't cheating if she was wearing jeans, and if he wasn't penetrating her-

-but his long, sturdy finger was penetrating her. She felt it like a mini cock, moving forward and back, forward and back deep inside her. And it felt good. She was terribly sorry for Nick, but it felt good. It tickled her cervix and sent chills through her clitoris, and she was not wearing jeans, she was only wearing panties, so she was cheating on her husband. It was a terrible thing to dream about - but it felt good-

-she was cheating on her husband. Derek continued to waggle his strong finger inside her, and then he slipped it out, smiled his terrible, icy smile at her, and slowly slid it back into her, and then he began to thrust with it; it slipped through the slick depths of her vagina and when it was all the way in she cried out with ecstasy; it slipped back out of her and entered her again, and she rolled her hips to take it as deeply as she could take it, letting her weight bring her down until his knuckles stopped her; she rode his hand and looked over his shoulder for Nick, but Nick was gone.

She lay down with Derek in the-

-in their bed. She sometimes spent the night at Derek's house, which was actually her father's house, and they called his bed "their bed". He lay on his back, his big penis standing nearly vertical in front of her, and she tossed one leg up over his body to mount him the way she had always done it when they were younger. She straddled him and gripped his penis with one hand, directing it into the slit of her vagina and carefully sliding herself down its length, taking him slowly, letting the unbearable pleasure of the first penetration draw a long, slow moan from her lips: "Ohhh-ohh-ohhhh-hhhh!" He didn't move - it had always been that way with him. She threw herself forward, supported her body on her hands, and began to pump herself slowly up and down his erection, feeling her way along its length until she came to the end, letting herself fall back down his shaft until he was as deep as he could go. Every pump elicited another moan from her; it felt incredible in her depths. Her large, naked breasts swayed forward and back to the rhythm of her hips, and somehow she could see them from his eyes - they were big and beautiful and fascinating; her body came up his length, she dipped forward, her breasts swayed upward and grew big and full and round; her body plunged back down onto him, her breasts settled back into place, long and low and heavy, the hard nipples like two buds.

"Oh god," she whispered. "Oh god, I won't take very long, Derek-"

-but Derek didn't care. She was saying it to the wrong one. It was Nick who liked it when she said that-

"I don't care about you," Derek said with a cold glare up into her face. One of his big, manly hands shot up for her throat-

5.

And she woke, sweaty and terrified, with a horrible feeling of guilt in her heart. Why had she been cheating on her husband all these years? She couldn't remember.

She thought that her own voice must have woken her - she had been moaning, and no wonder. All the sensations in the dream had carried over. Between her legs, she could feel the cold spot along the seam of her panties where her own wetness had soaked them, and her body lay poised on the brink of a thundering orgasm. In fact, she felt that she was so close to coming, if she only moved her legs she was going to trigger the explosion that she now lay desperately wanting to set off. A single movement, a single touch of her finger, perhaps even a few concentrated thoughts would be enough to get her off, but she lay deathly still, trying hard to resist the need. It was powerful, the jolt that was waiting there. If it washed over her now, she would probably scream with it, and shudder so hard it would wake both husband and son.

A moment of clarity finally set her free of one problem, however: suddenly she realized that it had only been a dream. She had never been unfaithful to Nick - the mere thought of it was ridiculous. She was a far better woman than that. Why she had suddenly dreamed of a boy she had not seen in nearly twenty years - one of the worst relationships of her young life - she couldn't imagine. 

But what mattered was not the dream - what mattered was the reality it had left her with. She wanted - needed - to come. The tightrope where she hovered now was agonizing. It occurred to her that this was, especially for her husband, the chance of a lifetime: this was a midnight tryst of passion waiting to happen, and she could not bring herself to finish it all without him, after leaving him high and dry a few hours earlier.

"Nick?" she whispered over the peacefully sleeping form of their son. "Honey?"

And she discovered that he was awake when he immediately answered her with, "Are you okay?"

"I need you," she said.

"What's wrong?"

"I need you to go into the other room with me."

He rolled over slowly, facing her over Danny's little body, and she could see in the partial moonlight that he was concerned - he didn't even suspect what she was feeling. "Why? What's wrong?"

"Just go. I'll tell you in there."

He slipped out of bed with the skill that two years of sleeping next to a child had developed in him, and walked noiselessly to the door. Instead of leaving the room, though, he stopped there and stared at her expectantly - exactly what she had hoped he would not do.

"Just a sec," she told him, still so insanely close to going off that she didn't dare to move. She tried to keep her heavy breathing and her racing heart under control so that she could speak and move naturally. Even her hands were suddenly trembling.




The Stuff of Dreams



This is one of those stories that started heading in one direction and then chucked a left and went off on a tangent. It fits into several different genres; there is some incest, some non-consent/reluctance, even a hint of group sex, but at the end of the day the over-riding story is a romance. 

It is also an exploration of social mores (what's new?) and I have to insert a disclaimer here: The views expressed in this story are not necessarily those of the author, and any resemblance in both the story and characters to any incident or person(s) is purely coincidental. CM. 




As she strode, no that's not the word for it, as she glided down the red carpet the eyes of the world were on her. She was tall, 1.7 metres (5'7"), made even taller by the heels, slim, probably around 55kg (120pounds), honey skinned, with her long black hair worn simply. But that's not what grabbed my attention, it was her simply elegant outfit. The long black chrome silk dress had a skirt that flowed to the carpet from a simple clasp at the waist. It was wrapped under so that the right leg, clad in black stockings, was revealed to a point about half way up her thigh and I, and everyone else, was immediately dreaming of the perfection that was hidden beyond. Her top was in two sections starting from her waist with a 75mm (3") gap separating each section at the front and by a gap of 150mm (6") at the back. The sections were crossed at her breasts and fastened behind her neck. She obviously wore no bra, none was necessary, and her breasts were large enough that they appeared to be in danger of a wardrobe malfunction at any moment. I, along with every other red-blooded male, held my breath in anticipation of that moment. Her slender neck was emphasized by a single strand of large black pearls with matching drop ear-rings. She carried a leather clutch bag, in the same black chrome colour, with matching shoes. Perfection was understating her appearance

But the thing that grabbed my attention most of all was that she was not escorted down the carpet.

"Stephanie." I called to her. She turned to me and smiled as I held my finger on the shutter release of my camera. She didn't pose, simply because she didn't need to, no matter how she stood, it was a natural pose. If I was using a film camera I would have run out of film long ago, but I simply could not get enough of this simply beautiful woman. "Thank you, your are simply gorgeous as usual."

Her smile was for me. "Thank you Bradley." 

I was surprised that she knew my name, after all she was a star and I was just another parasite, eking out a precarious existence in the despised world of the paparazzi.

Stephanie's Morrow's story was the stuff of dreams. Born the first child into a large family, she was forced by circumstance to take over the running of the household from her terminally ill (breast cancer) mother. She left school as soon as she was able and took over the full time care of her mother and siblings. Her father was forced to work two jobs to pay the constantly mounting medical bills.

That was until the day that the seventeen year old Stephanie was pushing a heavily laden shopping trolley through the mall to the car park. Also in the mall was a film crew shooting a TV commercial. The Director was just about to admit defeat, and give it up, pack it in and go home after the 43rd attempt at getting the actress (blonde) to say her words without tripping over her tongue. She was not his choice, but the client insisted, probably because he was fucking her. It was at that point that he noticed that the crew were no longer focussed on the 'talent', but the young Stephanie almost hidden behind the massively overloaded shopping trolley. "Take ten!" He yelled as he headed in her direction.

The rest, as they say, is history. She was asked to take over the part in the commercial and she accepted. She nailed the words and actions on the first take and was given a card that led her to one of the most famous talent agents in this country. Several high profile commercials followed over the next year, each earning her more than the previous, which led to a casting call for a role in a feature film that was being shot in Sydney. Her original role was as a walk-on extra but she was soon elevated to a minor speaking role. This in turn attracted the attention of the Director who, on his return to Hollywood, arranged for her to fly over and audition for roles in a couple of films.

This move led, in her first feature film role, to a dramatic confrontation with the female lead who accused Stephanie of attempting to 'steal' her part. The ensuing publicity, particularly in the social media, ensured that she was on the minds of a wider range of Directors. Her star was well and truly in its ascendency. More important roles followed and there was even talk of an Oscar nomination for her part in the film that was premiering tonight.

Throughout all of this she distanced herself from the usual Hollywood scene, choosing instead to fly back to Sydney to be with her family between films. She maintained that this kept her grounded, she said that it was because her brothers and sisters did not think of her as the 'Hollywood star' who was their sister, but as their sister who just happened to be successful in Hollywood. The real reason was something completely different. She knew from the very beginning of her career in Tinseltown that it was expected of her that she should go through the almost mandatory affairs, brushes with the law and substance abuse, but she did something that few up and coming actresses did, tell the studio to get well and truly fucked (my words, not hers), and that if they wanted her to be in their movie, they would have to accede to her modest demands.

To achieve this she hired a very good agent and lawyer. When it became obvious that one of the studios had decided not to cast her, and had hired a lesser talent, but one who would sleep with whoever the production company required her to, that studio found themselves in court charged with discrimination and restraint of trade based on the fact that, to be cast, she had to submit to the humiliation of being forced to indulge in sexual acts against her wishes. In other words, she was asked to become a prostitute. It cost the studio a lot of money and the adverse publicity saw it decline rapidly in popularity. The other studios removed that unwritten clause from her terms of contract.

Then came her career mega shift. She turned her back on the big studios and concentrated her efforts on small budget independent films. Despite their limited release they gradually built up a cult following, to the extent that the production company was approached by a major studio waving a huge cheque, and offering them full artistic control.

Stephanie was against the move but her partners had dollars in their sights, so she sold them her share of the production company after the completion of the latest film, the one that was premiering here tonight. The company's status was high enough to attract some of Australia's top rising stars as well as government financial support. Even though it was a gritty drama, the government looked on it a suitable vehicle to raise the image of the country's film making industry, hence the publicity push and Stephanie. For this film she played a drug dealer who had incurred the wrath of the cartel importing the drugs. They set it up that she should be busted by a tame member of the drug squad. She was on the run from both the police and the cartel, moving from one sleazy location to the next in an attempt to crawl out of the primordial slime that she had lived in for so long. It was a role so far removed from her previous movie roles that her fans could not believe that it was really her playing it. One social media post claimed the use of a body double. Her performance had led to rumours of a potential Oscar nomination.

Stephanie Morrow was now a popular and very rich young woman and one that was the target of every man hoping for an invitation into her life. I was one such man. I was in love with her, hopelessly in love with her. Aware that I had no hope of getting close to her, but willing to try anything, I ran through the memory card from my camera and selected twelve of the very best shots and prepared a portfolio of her, including some close-ups that were cropped out of a larger picture. I even blew one up even more and printed it on canvas. I packaged the lot and sent it to her home address with a note that suggested that I was interested in her sitting for a studio portrait. I sent it and forgot all about it, reasoning that I had no hope of success.

A couple of days later I was printing a series that I'd done for a fashion magazine when my phone rang. "Hi Bradley, it's Stephanie, how would you like to have a cup of coffee with me so that we can discuss your suggestion?"

"I'd love it, when?"

"How about right now?" 

There was a knock on my door. "Could you hold on a second there's someone at the door, I'll just get rid of whoever it is and be right back."

"Don't do that."

"Why?"

"Because silly, it's me." It was her, standing there looking so beautiful in trackie dacks (Track suit pants) a sweat shirt that wasn't sweaty and sneakers. In her hands were two large takeaway coffees and a paper bag that looked suspiciously like it contained disgustingly sweet cakes. "Well, aren't you going to invite me in?"

"Sure, come in." I stammered, moving aside to allow her to come in. She put her load of goodies down on the coffee table and came over and kissed me. Yes, you got it right, she actually kissed me, and it wasn't the industry standard air kiss either. Forever etched into my brain is the first taste of her lips, strawberry. I found myself speechless.

"Those pictures were absolutely perfect, thank you for them."

"That's okay, I would have had to have been a totally artless camera hack to have produced anything less, given the subject matter."

"What I'm trying to say is that of all the photos that have been taken, and that have appeared in the press, you have never taken an unflattering shot, not like some of the other paparazzi, they only print the sensationally bad shots."

"I have on the odd occasion taken a bad shot that I could have sold for more money than the ones that I have released to the media, but I've destroyed those, I've wiped them from my computer memory so that no record exists of them."

"But why would you do that? You could make more money from the bad shots."

"Do you want the pat reason or the real reason?"

"Both."

"The pat reason is that I don't release unflattering shots of anyone, it's against my principles. The real reason, and promise that you won't laugh, is that I'm in love with you."

I saw her smile and I thought that she would laugh at me but she didn't. She came to me and took my head in her hands. "I know you are, I can see it every time I look at you taking my photo. You care about me more than I deserve."

"That's where you're wrong, I don't deserve, or even expect that you would think of me, let alone have feelings for me. I am pond scum in this world in which we inhabit and you're the perfect star. Do you think that we can get on with this before you reach the conclusion that I'm a stalker and decide to escape from me?"

"Okay, what do you want me to do and where do you want me?"

The look in my eye told her what I was thinking; 'lie down on the sofa and open your legs'. She smiled.

I set about getting the lighting right and the right backdrop for the shots, and checking the focal length and the aperture against her face before the minute adjustments to her position to achieve the desired shot. She sat quietly and followed instruction throughout the entire process, as I expected that she would. "That's fine, now the first few shots I want you best smile. Great." I took a couple of dozen shots. "Now a just give me a little less smile. Hold it just like that, great." Another couple of dozen shots were saved onto the memory card. "Now a pensive look, thank you that's fine, could you just look down a little, think Princess Di, great."

I took the card from the camera and loaded it onto my computer. We sat side by side as I scrolled through them. Several I deleted straight away while Stephanie asked me to delete a couple of others that I was hesitating over. We finished up with fifteen really good shots and a couple that I considered to be outstanding. I sent them to my printer and we closely examined the prints as they came out and we decided that we couldn't separate them.

"How do you feel about taking some nude shots of me?"

"What? I don't think that would be a good idea, do you?"

"I have been thinking about this ever since I got your portfolio, and I decided that I would like you to take some nudes, because I know that you will be sensitive with them, and not take any that could be considered to be pornographic."

"That's not the reason that I'm against this, it's just that every time a girl has 'artistic' nude pictures taken they end up in social media for the world to see, and I don't want that to happen to you."

"But if you use a fresh memory card and keep it in a safe place who, other than the two of us will even know about it and I, for one, am not going to tell anyone."

"But why would you want to do this, it's completely against type?"

"Just what do you think my type is?"

"You are the sweetest, most beautiful and pure woman I know, that is your type and that is why I love you."

"Then my darling Bradley, but you are in for a shock and I fear that if I tell you my secret you'll no longer love me. I've decided that I can't go on living this lie just because of what other people think of me. I am not the pure innocent woman that you think I am."

"I find that hard to believe, I've seen so called actresses come and go and not one of them holds a candle to your looks and your talent and your purity."

"But not many of them carry the burden of a secret such as I have had to carry for the past six years."

"Surely it can't be a bad secret? I could never conceive that you could ever do anything so horrible that you can't at least tell me all about it. I promise that I won't tell anyone."

"You say that you could never conceive what it could be, but I can, in fact I did, three times."

"What do you mean?"

"I have been pregnant three times to the same man."

"Who is he and do you love him?"

"I can't tell you who he is, at least not right now, and no, I don't love him, in fact I hate him. Oh God how I hate him, I hate him for what he has done to me and what he is doing to someone I love. Bradley, I want you to release those photos that you've just taken to the media, but not yet. The nude pictures will be yours to keep and for you to remember me by. You have to promise never to show them to anyone else, ever."

"I promise, but I don't understand what is going through your mind right now, but I fear that I will not like it."

"After I leave here I am going to the police to make a statement, and then I'm going to end it all. I will never be able to hide from the shame."

"No! You can't do that, I won't let you do that!" I took her in my arms and held her to me. "I can't let you do that. Nothing is so horrific that you should kill yourself over it."

"Are you a Catholic by any chance?" She said, looking deep into my eyes with her suddenly sad eyes.

"No, why do you ask that?"

"Because if you were, I would be trebly damned in your eyes and the least of the damnations will be my suicide." She paused to gather the strength to tell me. "I have fallen pregnant three times to my own father, and each time I've had the pregnancy terminated. Does that shock you enough to hate and despise me?"

"No." I saw the puzzled look on her face. "I'm not shocked by it at all. You wouldn't be the first girl to get pregnant to her father. That doesn't shock, although I would be disappointed with you if you were a willing party to the conception. As for the abortions, I think that you did the right thing. I find it difficult to understand why you didn't use some form of birth control."

"Would you believe my father wouldn't allow it because it's against his religion?"

"You have got to be kidding me, surely? Here he is, forcing you, and he did force you didn't he? Forcing you to have sex with him which is against so many laws that I can't even contemplate how many, and yet he won't allow you to protect yourself against the consequences of his actions."

"Yes he did force me, oh he tried seduction and pleading and when neither of those worked he overpowered me and forced me to have sex with him. After we'd had sex he told me that if I went to the police I would end up in a gaol and my sisters would end up in foster care. I couldn't allow that to happen."

"I can understand your position, what I have difficulty in understanding is why he would want to force you to have sex with him in the first place, surely if he wanted to he could have found another form of release for his sexual tensions or frustrations. He didn't need to use you like this."

"You have to remember the family situation at the time, my mother was very ill and he was working at two jobs just to try to keep on top of the medical bills and feed me and my two brothers and three sisters. I was bringing in some money from the commercials that I did, but it wasn't anywhere near enough. He was tired and we were broke, he didn't consider that any woman would find him a suitable relationship prospect, so he gave up looking. I understood that, and felt sorry for him up to a point, but that didn't include having sex with him. He worked on me for a long time and I refused to give in to him and when he finally forced himself on me I felt so guilty that I couldn't tell anyone, other than the priest when I went to confession. He, of course, said nothing."

"I presume that your father went to confession and sought absolution for his sins?"

"Oh yes, he told me that he had confessed and been forgiven. That's a joke, a couple of 'Hail Marys' and he's forgiven and free to do it again. There's something wrong there, but who am I to question the church?"

"Who indeed?" Christ Almighty what a fucked up situation, (pardon the French) I can understand why people get confused when it comes to the difference between civil law and church law, what to one is a punishable crime, to another is a forgivable sin to be wiped clean by some simple penance. "What has changed that has brought on your decision to do what you've planned?"

"Because," She looked sadly into my eyes, "I've recently found out that he's been having sex with my youngest sister."

I came so close to losing the plot and racing out to find the bastard and beat the crap out of him, but held it in so that I could think rationally. "Before you do anything that I'll regret my failure to prevent, let's look at this calmly and rationally. There has to be a better solution, there just has to be, and believe me, suicide just isn't it."

"Why not?"

"Because, while suicide might solve your problem, it will cause problems for other people, me for one. I know that I've only just met you, but I feel that I've known you for some time, and loved you for nearly as long. Then there's your family, what will they think, they'll probably think what I'm thinking right now, 'could I have prevented it?'. And then there's the people that find you after you've done it, how do you think they'd feel, seeing such bright person such as you brought to the point that you see no way out other than suicide."

"You feel strongly about this, don't you?"

"Yes, and for good reason. My father was a train driver and was involved in several fatalities, the majority of them were suicides. He didn't talk about it to anyone, but it affected him deeply, the memory of the person a split second before my father killed him was bad enough, but to sit through the Coronial Inquest with the victim's relatives blaming him for their loss was even worse. He suffered from PTSD before it had that name and before there was any treatment for it. He was a strong man to have held on for as long as he did, but in the end it fucked up his life. Not even the massive doses of sleep medication he took could get him through a night without that same nightmare. Now you know why I can't let you do this, why we have to find another solution."




The Stuff of Dreams



"I can't think of any, believe me, I've gone over this time and time again and I can't think of any other solution."

"There is a way. If you were to go to the police and tell them all that you know, they will be under an obligation not to reveal the names of the innocent parties to protect their identities. If they can't give an undertaking not to reveal, you can apply for a suppression order on your and your sister's identity. No-one need know who is involved."

"No, I've thought about that but people will know, they'll obviously be told not to reveal the information, but sooner or later someone will put it out on a social media site and the next thing you know it will be all over the world, particularly if it involves someone who has taken great pains to present this squeaky clean image."

"Before you make any decision, I'm going to make a suggestion. Why don't you get your sisters to meet you here? Tell them that you want a portrait of just you girls as a surprise present for your father. When all of you are together in a neutral setting you can discuss it and see if there isn't a better solution." 

"You have something on your mind, don't you?"

"You could say that, I will do anything to prevent you from taking that final step, and I have an idea that could just work."

"Tell me, what is it?"

"All in good time, my dear, all in good time. Now about this nude shot, did you have anything specific in mind?"

"It has to be artistic, and in good taste. I was thinking that it should be in black and white, probably soft focus and maybe a little grainy."

"My we are the professional aren't we? I agree so far, but the lighting has to be perfect and we have to be very careful with the pose, it can't be too suggestive, a hint of possibilities but not probabilities."

"The other thing I insist on, no photo shop or airbrush, it has to be the real me."

"As you wish although I doubt that either would have been necessary. Okay, let's set this up and see what happens."

It took a long time to set up. For black and white prints it is all about shading and texture, the positioning of the body to allow the shadows to enhance and obscure, to place emphasis on the features that need to be emphasised and to hide those that should be hidden. Eventually I was happy and Stephanie removed her clothes. "Oh dear, we have a minor problem."

"What is it?" She was worried that I'd spotted something that would ruin the shot.

"We'll have to wait a few minutes before we can take any pictures because there's a mark around your waist where your waist band was. It will fade in time but until then would you like a coffee or something?"

"What I would like is for you to forget that you are a photographer for a few minutes and imagine that you are my lover, and come here and tell me how much you love me. Better still, come and show me how much you love me."

"Are you serious? I'm not complaining mind you, it's what I've dreamed of for some time, but I can't believe that you would ever want to do this."

"I have never been more serious in my entire life." She stood close to me and began to undo the buttons of my shirt. She only got about half of them undone before she pulled it over my head. My pants followed and, while me dreams had her dropping to her knees and sucking him, she didn't do that at all. She took him in her hands and just held him, feeling his hardness. "My you are the eager beaver aren't you?"

"You'd better believe it, in my lonely bed at night it takes nothing more than the memory of a picture of you to achieve an erection, so how do you think I am with you here in the flesh?"

"I think that you're about as ready for this as I am."

"I can't believe this is happening to me and I have to ask you, why me?"

"It's because I respect you professionally as a photographer, and personally, as a man. You are the first man that I've met that I can feel comfortable with because I know that you aren't trying to use me for your own ends. I also want to feel what it is like to make love to a man that I respect rather than have sex with a man that I loathe and despise. I'm hoping that there is a difference."

"So do I, I just hope that I can hold off coming for more than thirty seconds."

"I'm sure you can." She kissed me and led me to the sofa where later she will be posing for the nude shots. "Please be gentle with me."

I let my mind drift to my most pleasant recurring dream of this moment and allowed it to guide me. It was all about the caress and the exploration of her body in all of its glory, of allowing my fingers to drift over her flawless skin, and in the process I was urging her to respond so that I could be sure that she was enjoying every second of this experience. Her nipples responded to my touch and there were goose bumps on her skin that stayed while I moved down her body to her pussy. As my fingers caressed between her legs her hips rose in anticipation of my penetration, but I withdrew them, teasing her until she sobbed in frustration. That was when a finger entered her holy of holies, her pussy that, up until now, had never felt the loving touch of a man. I felt so privileged to be her first true love.

My finger stayed in place while I used my tongue on her clit bringing more sobs from her lips. She held my head to her as her body convulsed in a series of spasms. "I have dreamed of this moment for so long, now please will you make love to me."

"Are you on the pill or any other type of birth control, do you want me to find a condom?"

"Fuck the birth control, I don't care if I get pregnant, because if I do I know that this child will have been born of love."

I lasted longer than my predicted thirty seconds, much longer in fact. I lingered with my cock in her, sometimes moving, sometimes just with him immobile inside her, but all the while concentrating on making this the best experience for her. In the end she was begging for me to finish, to fill her with me. I looked at her beautiful face to find tears pouring from between her tightly closed eyelids. "What's the matter Darling, didn't you enjoy it?"

"Oh God I enjoyed it so much. It was so much better than I have dreamed it would be. This has gone a long way towards wiping away the memories of my father. I am not even going to tell the priest that I've been guilty of the sin of fornication because I know that God will not punish me for this. It is a sin only in the eyes of man, for I believe that God would not convict me for making love, in a physical way, to someone that I love, because there is no sin in loving, and I love you."

"Are you sure that you love me? Don't get me wrong I want you to love me, but we've known each other for less than two hours."

"That's where you're wrong, I've known that I love you for a lot longer than that. I've respected you for some time and, having seen the love in your eyes for just as long, I have been watching you and asking other people about you and have not heard a bad word spoken of you. In this industry that's almost impossible to achieve unless you truly are a wonderful person, in fact I had even thought of asking you to fly to the States with me as my official photographer slash, publicist, slash media liaison person. That was of course before this mess with my father and sister cropped up. Now that we've actually met in person I've had to face the fact that I have rejected any possible involvement with other men because they have not measured up to you. And yes, I am sure that I love you."

"What a pair of hopeless romantics we are, and I have to say that there's a lot to be said for hopeless romanticism. Do you really want to have me take those nude shots of you?"

"Of course, don't you?" She looked at her waist. "Now that the marks have faded we should make a move." She pushed me off the sofa and stretched out in a seductive pose. "How's this?"

"Could you please close your legs and raise your right knee a little, otherwise it will be pure porn."

"Do you mean like this?" She opened her legs further and inserted a finger into her pussy and brought it out, she looked at it closely. "Yum." She sucked it. "You taste good, do you know that?"

I couldn't believe that this woman that I'd considered to be as pure as the driven snow, whatever that means, was acting like a slut.

"Don't look so sad darling, I'm just behaving like your average man's dream woman."

"I'm not your average man and if you can't be serious I'll forget about all of this, my shattered dreams, my future hopes, it'll disappear in a puff of smoke."

She came to me in tears. "I've offended you and I'm so sorry. Forgive me, please my love, please."

"I forgive you, it's just that you shocked me, I couldn't believe that you could act that way. In my dreams we make love just as we did a few minutes ago. If I wanted a slut, I'd go out and pay for one."

"Can't we act a little slutty from time to time, to put some spark into our loving, maybe?"

"Okay, a little slutty, but what you just did was beyond little."

"I know, but I forgot for a moment that you aren't an average man, you the perfect man that I love very much." She kissed me. "Now let's get this over with."

This time her pose was decorously perfect. I took a series of pictures from various angles and in various poses, when I had finished I took the card from the camera. She sat next to me as we scrolled through the pictures on my computer, her arm around me, her still naked breast pressed against me, her head pressed against mine and the hand not around me had reached across my body and was holding my now erect cock. "I don't know which of these I prefer, they are all brilliant, you're brilliant."

"The subject had nothing to do with it then?"

"Okay, it has a little to do with it."

"I've discovered that there is another Stephanie Morrow. There's the politely aloof public persona and then there's the private Stephanie Morrow. The bright, sexy, funny, sexy, flirtatious, sexy, tease, oh and did I mention sexy?"

"Only a hundred times. So you don't think that the politely aloof public persona is sexy?"

"No. It is sensationally sensual, and the type of unattainable dream person that men realise that they can never hope to get. It's that persona that keeps men lusting after you. It's like that song line; 'To dream the impossible dream,' that's what it is, the impossible dream. Now the reality is so much better, but once the dream has been realised it is no longer the impossible dream. Having held the dream in my hands, and made love to it, I no longer have to search for it, now that my dream has become my reality."

"Now I understand how you can take such wonderful photos of me, you are able to convert your dream of me into a reality without any artificial help. I know of photographers who can take a hundred shots and get one or two really good ones, you can take a hundred and only one or two, while they aren't bad, aren't that good. I also understand something else, I am not going to end it all because I realise that there are some things in this world that are worth living for, and you are one of them." She held me and kissed me and, somehow or other, we ended up making love again, and she only got a teeny bit slutty.

An hour later a cab pulled up out front and Stephanie went out to pay the fare and free her two sisters. They were both a little tentative coming in to my studio, even though they had been told that was for a portrait of the three of them to give their father.

"Bradley, this is Melinda," Melinda was the elder of the two. She had similar features to Stephanie but was a little fuller in her figure, and this included her breasts that pushed against the tee shirt that she wore. "And this is Juliette." Juliette was slightly smaller than her two older sisters, more finely built with a thin face dominated by a pair of large blue eyes. I found it hard to drag my own eyes from hers. "And girls this is Bradley, the best photographer in the world."

"Hi, Melinda, Juliette, I'm pleased to meet you." I held out my hand to them and they both shook my hand shyly. It was obvious that they lived in the shadow of their older and more famous sister.

"Have a look at these." Stephanie showed them the pictures that I'd taken this morning. (No not the nudes) Aren't they great?"

"Yeah but we're not as pretty as you are." Melinda looked sadly at the prints.

"Why don't I take a picture of each of you and we'll see how they turn out before you decide that you don't want to be in the same picture as Stephanie.

I chose Juliette first because I got the feeling that she was less sure of herself than Melinda. I set up for the shot. "Now Juliette, I want you to look closely at my right hand," I held it as far from my body as I could, "really concentrate on it, and try hard not to laugh, please." She smiled which was exactly what I wanted her to do, but I didn't want a smiley shot of her, I waited until her smile had almost disappeared and then I took the picture.

I took the card from the camera and plugged it into my computer. They all gathered behind me as I scrolled to Juliette's photo. "Wow, I can't believe that's my weedy little sister." Melinda said. "You look different, almost beautiful."

"Shut up Mel, wait until he takes yours and then see which of us looks the best, slender little me or lard arse Mel." She smiled at Mel who gave her a look that said that she'd taken up the challenge. She walked quickly to the sofa and adopted an exaggerated fashion model pose. "Look at her, she thinks she's so sophisticated but she looks like one of those whores you see hanging around the streets."

"How would you know you little bitch?" Melinda was not happy at being teased.

"Okay girls, let's focus here. Both of you are beautiful but in different ways. Now Melinda, I want you to look just to my left with your eyes and remember a joke that one of your girlfriends has just told you, a dirty joke, and you don't know whether to laugh or tell her that you're disgusted, can you do that?" She pulled it off better than I'd anticipated and I got the shot before she collapsed in a fit of laughter.

"All right, tell us your funny joke." Juliette said.

"Well, there were three nuns walking through the forest when this man jumps from the bushes and flashes them. The first two had a stroke but the third never touched him."

Stephanie and I looked at each other and smiled, I suppose that would be funny in a Catholic Girls School.

"That's not funny," Juliette said.

"I suppose that you know a better one."

"Of course I do. There was this guy, he had just driven hundreds of Kilometres across the desert when he saw a sign on the side of the road that said; 'Sisters of Mercy House of Prostitution 10 Kilometres'. This looks promising he said to himself, and drove on. Five kilometres down the road was another sign; 'Sisters of Mercy House of Prostitution 5 Kilometres'. He keeps driving until he sees a sign that says; Sisters of Mercy Car Park'. So he pulls in and walks up to the door and pulls the bell chain. A small door slides across and a voice from inside asks, 'How may I help you my son?' 'I wish to avail myself of the services of your fine establishment'. He says, 'Then won't you please enter'. The door opens and he's inside and he can't help noticing that the nun, what he could see of her, was extremely attractive. 'Then please, follow me sir.' He followed her down the passage way until he comes to a door, she opens it and inside is another nun, even more beautiful than the previous one. She leads him to another door and the next nun is even more beautiful. This goes on through three more doors until he finds himself with a nun who is so beautiful that she puts the Virgin Mary to shame, she takes him to the end of the passage way and holds out her hand, 'If you pay me 50 dollars you may pass through this door.' He thinks to himself, 'if the nun on the other side of this door is better looking than this one, she's worth every dollar they're asking'. He scrambles in his wallet and pulls out a 50 dollar note and hands it to her. She opens the door and he finds himself back in the car park looking at a sign that reads; 'GO IN PEACE MY SON, YOU HAVE JUST BEEN SCREWED BY THE SISTERS OF MERCY'.

Even I had to laugh at that one. I printed off Melinda's picture and it was every bit as good as Juliette's. "Look Mel, he's made your face look almost thin." Juliette teased.

I managed to restore some sort of decorum and soon had the three of them seated on the sofa. The lighting for three was a little trickier than for a single sitter, but I was soon ready to take the first picture. I had them move their heads until I was satisfied with the structure. "Okay now, hold it steady. Okay, just one more for safety. Good." I took the card out and printed the two pictures. The girls gathered around to look at it. 

"I don't believe it Jules, you look beautiful." Melinda said.

"You don't look bad yourself. Gee Steph, when you told us that Bradley was brilliant I thought that it was just because he was good looking, and . . . " she paused there so that we could work out what she was thinking, "I wasn't thinking about his photography."

"He's both."

"Are you two . . . you know?" Melinda asked.

"No comment." Stephanie replied.

"That means that you are."

"No, it means no comment."

They looked at me. "No comment." I smiled.

"Now girls, I have another reason for getting you to come here. Now this is a serious matter and before I ask you an important question, I want to tell you something." They both looked at her intently. "Several years ago, it was about the time that I was cast in my first film, I would have just turned eighteen, and our father forced me to have sex with him. I didn't want to but he forced me. A few months later I found myself pregnant, I went behind his back and had an abortion. After I went to Hollywood he would want sex with me every time I came home, and on two more occasions I fell pregnant, and on two more occasions I sought an abortion. I eventually convinced him that I wouldn't have sex with him anymore. To my surprise he stopped without trying to get me to change my mind. I didn't think much about this at the time, I was just happy that he wasn't going to force me to have sex with him again. But on thinking about it I realised that there must be a reason, and there was. He was having sex with you Melinda."

"I thought that you knew." Melinda said. "He told me that you'd been doing it and told him that it was okay if he did it to me too when you were in Hollywood, and that it was all right, that he'd told the priest and had been forgiven."

"He never let on that he was having sex with you, I would have done something about it if I'd known. It was wrong that he did it to me and it's just as wrong him doing it to you. But that's not the worst of it." They both looked at Juliette.

"Yes, all right, he's been doing it with me as well as Melinda. When Mel goes out with her friends he comes to me. He told me that what we had was special and that I shouldn't tell anyone, especially Mel."

"I hope that neither of you have gotten pregnant."

"No way!" Mel said. "As soon as he began wanting it with me I went to the Family Planning Clinic and told them that I was thinking of having sex with my boyfriend and went on the pill. He doesn't know about it."

"How about you Juliette, are you on the pill?"

"I've just started. The Sex Ed classes at school told me that I should go on it if I was sexually active. I went on it before I started having sex with him."

"That's one weight off my shoulders." Stephanie told them. "My problem is that what he has been doing to us is against the law. When he first started with me he told me that if I told anyone, especially the police, I would end up in gaol and you two and your brothers would end up in foster care. I didn't want that so I gave in to him."




The Stuff of Dreams



"He told me that he'd been doing it with you and if that was all right it was okay if he did it with me." Juliette said.

"He told me the same thing. You were so perfect I thought that you could do nothing wrong and if you and him was doing it, I wouldn't be doing anything wrong either."

"He has manipulated all of us and should be punished. I am going to the police and make a statement and I want you girls to back me up when the time comes. Will you do that?"

"Sure." They both replied in unison.

"Okay, we'd better be getting home, he'll be wanting his dinner on the table when he gets home." She came over to me and kissed me. "Thank you for all you've done, and the picture will look great when you've framed it."

"Can you come by in the morning to help me pick out a suitable frame?"

"Of course." I got another kiss good-bye.

"See, I told you they were doing it." Melinda said.

There was a loud banging on my front door early in the morning, and I staggered out of bed to answer it. There was a man there, a very angry man that I'd never seen before.

"You meddling bastard, I'll kill you." He pushed past me. "How dare you interfere in my affairs."

"Why don't you just calm down and tell me what your problem is."

"I'm not about to calm down. You had a visit from my three daughters yesterday afternoon and I don't know what you said to them, but they lied when I asked them where they'd been. They are telling me that I will have to do everything that they want me to. What do you say to that smartarse?"

"If I knew what you were on about maybe I'd know how to respond." I had to get him to admit to having sex with them so that I could back them up.

"It could have something to do with the little tarts, all three of them, Stephanie was the first to trick me into having sex with her. After she'd seduced me she told me that if I didn't keep doing it she'd go to the police and tell them that I'd raped her. Since then it's been one after the other, I'm getting that way that I don't know whether I can keep up with their demands. It begins as soon as I get home from work and sometimes it's two of them at the one time, I don't know where they've learnt all this filth, but last night they told me that they'd had enough of me, that I was past it and of no use to them anymore, and to make matters worse, they were going to the police and tell them that I'd forced them to have sex with me. Stephanie even said that she had receipts from an abortion clinic where she went to get rid of our baby, three times, can you believe that?" 

"Why are you telling me all of this, what can I do? What have I done?"

"I don't know what it is that you said to them yesterday, but it must have been something to get them to turn on me like that."

"How do you know that they were here yesterday?" I was stalling for time here, I figured the longer he talked the better chance I had of calming him down.

"Stephanie told me that she was coming to see you about some photos that you'd taken of her, she said that she wanted copies. As for the other two, they weren't home when I got home a little early from work and all three of them arrived home in Stephanie's car, so they were all together."

"How do you know that they didn't meet somewhere else, it didn't have to be here."

"They were hiding something from me about where they'd been and what they'd been doing, but I could tell that they were up to something." 

"Okay, they were here, but I said nothing to them. I know you won't believe that, but it's true. They all came here to have a portrait done of the three of them to give to you. I shouldn't be telling you this because it's supposed to be a surprise for you. As to the other matter, my hands are clean." I didn't actually admit that I knew about what they had planned.

"You will need to be careful with Stephanie in particular, all three of them are very adept at using sex to get what they want, but Stephanie has had a lot of practise. Don't say that I haven't warned you." 

He left me confused, I wanted so much to believe the girls, to believe Stephanie, but what if there was some truth in what he'd just told me. Could I trust her anymore? Could I trust myself to act normally until I got to the bottom of this? How could I find out the truth? What was the truth? I had to find out, and fast. I made a phone call to a guy that I'd met a couple of times who had a way of finding out all sorts of things. "Hi John, it's Bradley Hudson, listen I need a huge favour. I want to get some information about a couple of girls that I met recently. I think that they're up to something that involves their big sister who's a friend of mine and their father. Do you think that you could use some of your electronic gizmos to listen in on their conversations without them knowing?"

"Just tell me the where and when of it and you'll have it all, chapter and verse."

I gave him Stephanie's address, yes she still stayed at home when she was in Australia, without telling him who it was. But I did swear him to secrecy, not that I needed to, I could trust him not to blab about his work, the fewer people who knew what he did, the better for his business.

Stephanie called in an hour or so after the phone call to look at frames. "Hi Darling, how are you today." She said as I let her in. Did she know or suspect something?

"Fine, come in and I'll show you something." I led her to where I had six of the framed nudes on my wall, even I had to admit that they were sensational.

"I can't believe how much better they came out in black and white, they are spectacular. What a pity no-one else will ever see them."

"They were only ever going to be for us, but if you want to pose for a couple of similar shots with your head obscured I might, with your permission of course, show them in an exhibition that I've been asked to put together by a gallery. If you don't agree that'll be the end of it."

"I'll think about it, no promises of course."

I showed her a selection of frames for the family portrait and she chose the one that I would have chosen, and waited while I fitted the print into it. I packaged it for her to take home but she was in no hurry, she had something else on her mind.

"I'm not wearing anything under this dress." She took my hand and placed it over a breast. With my hand there she pressed against me and kissed me, I could feel her nipple in the palm of my hand and my cock in the palm of hers. We forgot about the sofa in the studio, I led her to my bedroom with its hastily pulled up bed clothes that quickly became hastily pulled down bed clothes as we hit the sheets running. Her mouth and tongue travelled around my body finding places that had never before felt a mouth or tongue. I wondered briefly where she could have learned these skills but was enjoying it too much to care.

Following her example I put my mouth and tongue to use in exploring her body. After some time she grabbed my cock and led it between her legs, her pussy swallowed it whole and set about making life very pleasurable for it and me, so much so that by the time we'd reached our exhausted conclusion, I'd forgotten all about her father and his accusations. We stayed in bed and made love until well into the afternoon until, eventually she had to leave. "I could stay here with you forever, I don't have any commitments for at least three months. Would you like it if I stayed with you?"

"I'd love it but my bank manager wouldn't. If you stayed here with me I'd never get any work done and I'd go broke and lose everything."

"Except me, I could support you, and when I had to work you could be there with me as my official photographer slash publicist slash media liaison person."

"Attractive as that sounds, I have this thing about being the breadwinner in my family, when I have one that is."

"We'll think about it and discuss it later. Would you like for me to take you out to dinner tonight?"

"Yes, but won't we run the risk of being seen?"

"There is one place that I know of, it's a small Indian restaurant done up in true Bollywood style, it even plays Bollywood films as background noise and entertainment, they've probably never even seen any of my films." 

"Sounds good to me."

It not only sounded good but it was good. The food was great and the atmosphere was so Bollywood you just couldn't help but get caught up in it. We had a great time and an even greater time later when Stephanie agreed to spend the night with me. In bed we whispered to each other that we loved each other and we made love to prove that we loved each other until we eventually dropped off to sleep. My impossible dream no longer happened, but it was replaced by a nightmare about what I would do if it turned out that her father was telling the truth and she was a manipulative bitch who used her sexuality to achieve her ends.

"Wakey, wakey, rise and shine, time to get up out of this bed."

"So this is what it's going to be like is it, waking me up at some ungodly hour, and probably expecting me to make love to you? Can't a girl have some beauty sleep?"

"It's eight thirty in the morning and I should have been working half an hour ago, I'll never get this layout finished."

"Okay I suppose that I can crawl out of this bed and even make you some breakfast."

"That shouldn't be hard, all I ever have is a cup of coffee."

"No, you're going to have a proper breakfast, we have to keep your strength up, don't we?"

I scrambled into my clothes and left her heading for the kitchen in all her naked, beautiful, sexy glory. Life is going to be so hard around here if this dream becomes a permanent reality.

I was busy putting together the layout when my phone rang. "These are a couple of really fucked up girls, do you know that?"

"What do you mean, a couple, what about Stephanie?"

"I bugged their bedrooms, all three of them but Stephanie wasn't home all of last night. Did you have anything to do with that by any chance? She's okay, don't get me wrong, her father did force her to have sex with him on a number of occasions, but the little sisters, he didn't force them to do anything, in fact the opposite is the case. Melinda, that's the older one I presume, she found out about it and the two of them have blackmailed the poor old sod into becoming their sex slave. He must be just about dead on his feet after what the little bitches put him through last night. If he didn't do what they demanded, and their demands were really weird and definitely kinky, they threatened to go to the police and accuse him of forcing them into an incestuous relationship, not only with the two of them, but with Stephanie."

"Thanks mate, I owe you one." I hung up and saw Stephanie watching me. 

"What was that all about?"

"I am going to tell you something and I don't want you to get angry, okay?"

"Okay." She wasn't sure, but agreed anyway.

"Yesterday morning, before you got here, I had a visit from your father who made a lot of scary accusations about you and your sisters. I believed your version of events about what happened between the two of you, but his story of your sisters and him was completely different."

"In what way?"

"In that he didn't force them to have sex with him, in fact the opposite was the case. It all sounded far-fetched so I had to have it checked out. He claims that all of you, and you were the first, you seduced him into having sex, my information supports your story, but as for Melinda and Juliette, my information supports your father. Apparently Melinda found out about you and your father and blackmailed him into having sex with her. When she was old enough Juliette was brought into the action. Apparently last night was a proper three way orgy and it lasted for hours, no wonder he looked tired this morning."

"Are you telling me that my sisters have been having sex with our father, in fact forcing him to have sex with them?"

"That's what it looks like, yes."

"The little bitches, and I fell for it, I believed every word that they told me. I suppose in one way he's got what he deserves with those two, it sounds as if they'll wear him out."

"So what are we going to do about it?"

"What can we do?"

"I suppose we could tell the three of them that if they don't stop we'll go to the police and they'll all end up in gaol. They may not go for it, but it's worth a try."

"And if that doesn't work, what then?"

"Leave them to their debauchery and distance yourself from them, all of them. What about your brothers, how do they fit in to this whole debacle?"

"They both left home as soon as possible and moved interstate to study. I haven't spoken to either of them for years."

"Do you think that you should warn them so that they are prepared when and if the shit hits the fan?"

"Let's talk to the others first and hope that they'll see sense. Look Bradley, I'm sorry that I've got you involved in all of this, I didn't mean it to happen this way, all I wanted to do was to explain a little about what I've been going through so that you could understand when I did what I had planned to do. You've been very supportive up until now and I won't blame you if you cut and run. I hope that you don't, but if you choose to I won't hold it against you."

"I'm not going anywhere without you. But having said that, I think that we should start planning our life beyond this, we may not have a choice other than a new life somewhere right away from this."

"Do you mean somewhere else in Australia, or somewhere other than Australia?"

"I don't know. It will have to be somewhere where I can make a living with my photography and maybe you can continue your acting career, that's if you want to do that."

"I don't know how to do anything else, it's all that I've ever done. But then, having worked with you I'm sure that I would make a very good photographer's assistant."

"I'm sure you would, but there would be this continuous distraction that may be difficult to control."

"And what might that be?" She was already distracting me with her hand, and her lips joined in. I forgot what I was supposed to be doing for some time, not that I'm complaining. What is it with this family, they're all sex crazed nymphomaniacs. If Stephanie owned a pub she would be every Australian man's dream girl, just think of it, beer and sex on tap.

"Whew, now where were we?" I said as we finally separated and she went off to make the breakfast that she'd promised before we were so rudely interrupted, and I got back to my work sifting through the dozens of fashion shots for the magazine layout.

She returned minutes later. "I couldn't make you breakfast because you've nothing to make it with, so you'll have to make do with coffee until we can go shopping." She placed my cup of breakfast on my desk and stood behind me with hers as I scrolled through the photos and set them out on pages ready for the accompanying text to be inserted by the magazine. "You are good you know, you could get work with any of the big fashion mags like Vogue, and I could even find work as a model. I might have to lose a bit of weight, mind you, but it's a sacrifice that many other women have made before me."

"Don't you dare! I love you the way you are."

"Don't worry, I was only joking, I love me the way I am, and I don't intend changing."

I completed the layouts and emailed them to the magazine. My next job was an interesting one that would take me out of town for at least a week and I was debating whether to ask Stephanie to come with me. "Stephanie."

"I don't like the sound of what you're about to say."

"I have an assignment that's going to take me out of town for a while, and I'm thinking that I don't want to be away from you for that long, but then I don't like to ask you to come with me because we'd be roughing it, few creature comforts and probably a lot of flies and scorching sun."

"I'm coming, what is it?"

"I have to take a series of photos for a mining company's Annual Report. I've done these before and, while it's no great problem for me, I feel that the conditions might be a little harsh for you, 50 plus (Celsius) temperatures are common out there."

"You're not talking me out of it that easily, I'm coming. It'll give me a chance to get away from my family for a while."

We were busy for almost a week, it wasn't just a case of taking a few happy snaps of the mine operations and the town that had been built around the mine site, there was the associated infrastructure as well. And then there were the workers, from the almost portrait shot of the Project Manager down to the women who drove the massive dump trucks, standing beside them and being dwarfed by the huge wheels. Photos of the kilometres long ore trains heading for the loading facilities, being hauled by four powerful diesel locos. That was a difficult one for us because the only place we could find that would produce a picture that reflected the sheer size of the operation was kilometres from the mine site and the company wasn't about to wait while we set up for the shot. We had to set up with one train and then wait for the next to take the shot, and it wasn't a cool day by any means and we spent the intervening time sitting in the shade beside our 4 wheel drive, drinking lots of water from the cool box and wiping the sweat off our faces. We were glad to get back to our air-conditioned accommodation for the night.

Our final task was at the loading facilities and having spent a day there taking shots of various stages of the operation we were glad to hand back the keys to the 4 wheel drive and catch the evening flight back to Perth.

The next day I presented the company with hard copies of what we'd chosen as the best shots, along with a memory stick with the rest before climbing onto a plane for the trip back home, (First class for a change) and trouble.

We had no sooner left the plane than we were confronted with blinding flashes and TV lights and a policeman. Not just any policeman, but a Senior policeman. "Miss Morrow, would it be possible to have a quick word in private?'

'What's this all about?" She was worried and I could see the possibilities scrolling through her mind.

He led us to a small office that had been made available for the occasion. "Miss Morrow, it's about your father."

"What about my father, what's happened to him?"

"Four days ago he was killed in a motor vehicle accident. At first it was thought that he'd had a heart attack because several witnesses told us that he was slumped over the wheel of his car when it went through a red light at an intersection and collided with a truck. He died at the scene. We've been trying to contact you but no-one seemed to know where you were. When we eventually located you we found that you were on your way home so we waited for your plane."

"There's a problem, isn't there?"

"Well yes there is. The initial diagnosis of a heart attack was not correct. It now appears as if he had fallen asleep at the wheel. Now while this is a common enough occurrence in the evening, it is very rare for someone travelling to work in the morning. We have questioned his employer who has told us that for the past several months they had noticed a change in your father, he always seemed to be tired, but while his work performance was satisfactory they did nothing other than question him to see if there was a reason for his tiredness. He provided none, so they let it slide."

"My sisters, how are they taking this?"

"They're upset, naturally."

"Have my brothers been contacted?"

"Yes, and your brother Mike has taken control of the funeral arrangements."

"I'd, we'd better be getting home then." 

"Do you have a car here, or would you like us to arrange transport for you?"

"That's all right, Bradley, my fiancé," she took my hand, "has his car in the long term car park. I suppose I should introduce you two, after all he's the reason you couldn't find me."




The Stuff of Dreams



"Oh we know Mr Hudson, he's a famous photographer." The derogatory emphasis on the word 'photographer' showed his awareness of my occupation and his dislike for the paparazzi.

"He's not just one of the paparazzi, he's a serious photographer, we've just completed an assignment for one of the country's biggest mining companies, and that's why you couldn't find us."

She held it together until we were in the car and heading for her house, but then she had to let it out. "Those stupid fucking little bitches, they've fucked him to death! I told them to stop doing it but they obviously didn't listen to me. I'll fucking kill them!"



The Stuff of Life



I wish there was a bisexual category. The following story is a mix of truth and fantasy. It is in three parts. Enjoy.

I remember watching this movie once called Boys In the Band. If I recall correctly, it’s about a bunch of gays and one straight guy sitting around, drunk, and making these confessions. At one point in the movie, they challenge each other to call the one person whom they had a crush on and tell him what that person meant to him. 

Can you imagine the poor bastard on the other end of the line? It’s 4 a.m. and some fag from high school calls you out of the blue to tell you that for the last 30 years you’ve been appearing nightly in his wet dreams?

The movie sets you up to think that the straight guy will call some other guy, revealing that even this paragon of heterosexuality had sported a woody for some other guy (the underlying premise being, I suppose, that deep down, everyone is homosexual.) In the end, he calls his wife or girlfriend and tells her he loves her.

If I were part of that cast, I would be the conflicted straight guy. But the person I would call wouldn’t be my wife, or ex-wife, rather – it would be Nathan Keith. Not that I secretly loved him. I loved him as a friend, I guess, but there was nothing romantic about what I felt for him. More than anything, what I felt for him was lust -- a deep desire to taste him again.

Nathan and I had an odd relationship. For about three years, we were best friends. But we were more than that. A lot of teenage boys experiment with homosexual sex. But what Nathan and I shared was, I think, something more than that. It was intense. It was, in fact, the most intense and memorable sex I have ever had – and I have been fortunate to have a lot of good sex in my life – mostly with women, but occasionally with men as well.

What Nathan and I shared was special. I never forgot him. I tried to, but he kept coming back in my fantasies. So, when a mutual buddy of ours died in a car accident, I decided to go home for the funeral.

That’s why Boys In the Band comes to mind, I guess. There we were – a bunch of guys in their late-30s, sitting around getting drunk, talking about Danny, and trying to say nice things about him – making shit up, if we had to. Truth? I fucking hated Danny’s guts. In fact, we were rivals. But he was a good friend of Nathan’s. That’s why I went: I knew Nathan would be there.

He had contacted me, out of the blue. Two decades had passed since I had last heard from him. I didn’t even know what part of the country he lived in. Google is a wonderful thing. He managed to track me down by Googling my name and sent me an email about Danny. I wrote back saying I would try to make it to the funeral. I needed to get away anyway. After nine years of marriage, my wife and I were on the rocks. We had split up and were working through a divorce.

More and more I found myself fantasizing about sex with guys. I would masturbate as I remembered those blissful hours Nathan and I once spent pleasing each other with our mouths. 

I consider myself something of a non-practising bisexual, if there is such a beast. I put away the homosexual sex years ago, and thought I’d grow out of it. I didn’t. For years, it just stayed there in the background. As long as sex with women was satisfying, I didn’t think about it much. But after a while, sex with women begins to bore me, and I begin to crave the warm meaty taste of cock – not just any cock, but Nathan’s cock.

On a couple of occasions, in my late 20s, I would get drunk and pick up gay guys – or let them pick me up, rather. I would let them suck me off, and sometimes I would return the favour. But it was never very enjoyable. I always felt low and depraved afterwards.

When I saw Nathan, I was slightly disappointed. What had I expected? That he would have stayed forever a teenager? He was still handsome, but had put on a little weight, and there were crowsfeet around his laughing, brown eyes.

His face lit up when he saw me, and he gave me a big smile when I walked into the living room of Danny’s house. I gave him a hug, and was relieved that there appeared to be no undercurrent of unease, no weirdness there about what we used to do. After all, the last time we were together, we had filled each other’s mouths with sperm.

“Good to see ya,” I said.

“It’s been too long,” he said. “Looking good, man.”

I had worked hard at looking good. I had been dieting and hitting the gym five days a week and, now that I was single again, I was working hard on my appearance. I was looking and feeling good. My stomach was hard and flat, and my arms and pecs were nicely cut.

Danny, on the other hand, did not look so good. As he lay there in his coffin, he looked bloated. He had let himself go. All that extra weight, the sedentary life and the bad diet had killed him. Heart attack.

When everyone else had left the graveside, the “gang” hung back. We waited until everyone had left, then Gene lit a huge blunt in Danny’s honour, and passed it around. Then he cracked a bottle of Jack Daniels, poured a couple of ounces down into the grave onto Danny’s coffin.

“Cheers, buddy,” Gene said, stifling a sob, his lower lip quivering. “One last drink for the road.”

Then he passed the bottle around. Even I took a drink. I have been sober for 10 years. But it would have been disrespectful to have refused to take a drink at Danny’s graveside.

“Let’s get drunk,” Gene said.

“I second that motion,” Kenny said.

Our gang had been pretty heavy drinkers in our youth, so it was natural for us to send Danny off with a major piss-up. We all went to Gene’s house, where we listed to 80s music, drank heavily and smoked pot.

As I said, I don’t drink anymore, but I allowed myself a few tokes. This only served to make me feel weird and out of place. By the end of the evening, I ended up hiding out in Gene’s back yard, admiring his fruit trees. That’s where Nathan found me – among the apple trees.

He was getting pretty drunk and maudlin. He was still with his wife, Angie, and they had three kids. He had been with her for 15 years. Mutual friends told me that Angie had turned into a whale.

“She’s a good mother,” he said. “We’re very good fiends. Soul mates.” His eyes were a little glassy.

“I wish I could say the same,” I said.

I looked at him, as he stared wistfully into a glass of beer.

“We haven’t had sex in years,” he said.

“I’m in the same boat,” I said. “It happens, man. You’re with someone that long, it gets stale. You ever cheat on her?”

“Once,” he admitted. He seemed surprised at the question.

“Did she find out?”

“No. You’re the only person I’ve ever told.”

“I’ll keep it to myself, then. Was it worth it?”

“No,” he laughed. “I just had to find out…something.”

“Was she hot at least?”

“No,” he said, paused, and looked in his glass of beer. “Actually, it wasn’t…”

He fiddled with his glass, then looked up. “It wasn’t a woman.”

It took a minute for the light to go on, and when it did, my heart leapt with anticipation.

“Gotcha.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing. My mind was racing and my heart had started to pound. Where was this leading? Would this long-held fantasy really going to unfold just like that? Sexual encounters almost never unravel the way I fantasize that they will.

There was a long, uneasy silence. Finally, awkwardly, perhaps too bluntly, I said: “Do you want to go somewhere and talk?”

“We’re talking now,” he said.

“Yeah but…since we’re being candid – I have some things I’d like to tell you, too”

“Like?”

“I wanted to apologize.”

“For what?” he said, surprised.

“Our experimentations.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I always kind of wondered about it. I always wondered if it had, you know, scarred you or anything. And if it did, I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for? If anyone should apologize it should be me. And Justin. We started it all.”

That was true. It was Nathan’s older brother who had been the instigator. But once he got us started, I never wanted to stop, and eventually Nathan did.

“I was pretty aggressive about it,” I said. “I was often the one who initiated it, I mean after that first time. I sometimes felt that you weren’t really into it, towards the end there. I felt like I was forcing you, and I have always felt bad about it. That kind of stuff, it can leave you with a lot of guilt, you know? Shame.”

“Is that the way you felt?”

“No. Not with you. With other guys, yes. Never with you. It felt right at the time. It felt good. But I just always wondered how you felt about it.”

“I did feel felt guilty about it,” he said, after a long pause. “Even then I was starting to get religion, I guess. And, yeah, there was some shame. Still is, I guess.”

“Which is why I’m glad you brought it up. I’m sorry if what we did caused you any problems, you know. Any bad feelings.”

He was silent a long time.

“To be honest, the only thing that I felt guilty about was that I enjoyed it so much. According to my faith, to lie with another man is a sin. That’s what I used to believe, anyway. I’m 38 years old, and I’m just beginning to understand how totally disabling and counter-productive shame is. For years, my religion told me to deny who I am and feel bad about feelings I have no control over. Fuck that. I am who I am.”

“I couldn’t believe it when I heard you had become a minister,” I said.

“Lay minister,” he corrected me. “Anyway, I quit the church. I realized that they weren’t really my friends. If they knew the truth about me, what I’ve done, the feelings I sometimes have for other guys – for you – they’d disown me. Or try to get me to sign up for some homo rehab program.”

“Do you think you’re gay?” I asked.

“Who knows? Maybe. What about you?”

“No. Definitely not gay. Bisexual.”

“Is there such a thing?”

“Sex for me is a coin toss, and I win whichever way it lands: head or tail, I like them both.”

Nathan laughed, then fell silent. There was another long pause. I was trying to figure out whether this was simply a confession, something he needed off his chest, or whether he was getting hard, like I was, with the anticipation of where this line of talk might lead.

“I still think about it sometimes,” he said. “About what you and I used to do.”

“Me too,” I said, in a strained voice, almost a whisper. I cleared my throat. “All the time, in fact.”

“Really?”

“Really. I miss it. Honestly? It was some of the best sex I ever had.”

“Wow,” he shook his head. “All these years, I thought it was just me.”

“So what are we going to do about it?” I asked.

He stepped up to me, and I thought he might kiss me. He didn’t. He just leaned in and whispered: “My hotel room has pay-per-view porn channels.”

“What are we waiting for?” I said.