Jopop Pub

I learned about this episode when I returned home and was introduced to Maggie by the young man in this story. We all became close (very close) friends and eventually swinging partners (Maggie, Mel’s mother, and his father) before leaving the area. My wife filled in some of the details, but only she and Mel know anything about what had been said between them. I can only add the dialogue I heard my wife use in other instances.
*****
Melvin James Cole was the name his mother used when he was in trouble. He always responded to that one fast because he knew the consequences if he failed to do so. But he really preferred to be known as “Mel.” That was the name all his high school friends had used, and even Mr. Turley, owner of the grocery store in which he worked as a bag boy. He didn’t really have to work because his parents had set up a trust fund for him when he was a baby. There was enough money for college, but not enough to enjoy the life he expected to lead in college. Mel planned on majoring in Party Time 101, right through his senior year. He had a head start, because some of his girlfriends had assured him they would be joining him at State. Early on, Mel had learned that having a few bucks in his pocket was the key to open the thighs of some of those cute coeds. So, even though the pay was minimum wage, Mel always managed to make a substantial amount from tips. It seemed like all the ladies needed his assistance when he smiled at them, letting a lock of his blonde hair slide over one eye and his blue eyes wander.
Lately he had been letting his eyes and smile show his approval of a new customer in the store, my wife, Linda. With me gone, Linda appreciated the looks she received from the men around town. She had a pretty good group of them already playing with her, but there was something about this kid that just set her hormones in gear.
It hadn’t taken a great deal to give Mel a reason to be absorbed by her. Earl had gone shopping with her just before he left and had insisted on augmenting her wardrobe with several dresses and blouses that emphasized her bust line. They had done their work admirably, especially when filled out by Linda’s 42DD cups. The lovelies weren’t hidden by the armor plated bras Linda had worn when she and Earl had first married. No, now they were put on display by bras that barely covered her nipples – and sometimes not even those if she became aroused.
The nipples weren’t on display the first time that Mel saw her, but the swell of her breasts were evident in the low cut bodice of her dress when she leaned forward to pick up a sack of groceries from the cart that day. Mel, standing on the other side of the cart had caught a glimpse of the little bit of heaven and almost lost his grip on the smooth paper. Linda had caught him looking, bringing a blush to Mel’s face, but she said nothing. She gave him a smile and a good tip when she finally shut the tailgate of the station wagon.
Mel waited until she was unlocking the door to the car. As she opened it, he held it for her while she got in. He was just as appreciative of the long expanse or thigh he saw as she pulled her skirt up and settled herself in the driver’s seat. His last glimpse was of her was those dynamite legs as he closed the door. He blushed again when she caught him admiring that view. He watched her back carefully from the parking lot and slowly drive away. Only when she was out of sight did he remember his duties and begin pushing the cart toward the store entrance once more.
There were several more of the ladies that day that caused his cock to rise, but none that measured up to the slim brunette with the knock out tits and dynamite legs. He hoped he would see her again. He would love to give HER a tip. Mel had found out early in his job that just the right combination of smile and flattery could earn him more of a tip. On more than one occasion, it had earned him an address and phone number that later proved to be an even more satisfying expenditure of his time when he wasn’t working. Mel had found early on that many of these ladies, twice or even three times his age, appreciated his stamina in bed. It hadn’t hurt that his father’s genes had given him seven inches of bone hard cock that swelled to an even greater length and thickness when he found himself in those beds. Even as he finished his shift that day, he was looking forward to being with one of his favorites, Maggie Stenholm.
Maggie was a real delight. She wasn’t all that great to look at, but when he had let her get a view of his hardness as she rubbed her tits against his hands while he helped her put groceries in the back of her car, she had demonstrated her own interest. Mel remembered that first night very well. Maggie had given him his first drink of alcohol, mixed in a margarita. It had done its work well, for him as well as for Maggie. Maggie had been pretty well oiled when he stood at the doorway to her house and she had invited him in. Dressed as he was, in gym shorts and a tee shirt, it hadn’t taken her long to find out just what was so impressive about her young flame. Maggie, at 40 plus, still had a set of knockers that stood high and proud on her chest. As soon as she had him safely inside her house that first night she had given him a great view of them, through the almost transparent blouse she wore without the encumbrance of a bra. Even better, he had gotten a good feel of them as she turned away from him to lead him into her home, and reached behind her ‘accidentally’ brushing his aroused love muscle. He had closed the short distance between them and reached around her to cup them in his hands.
Maggie had responded immediately, turning in the span of his arms and pressing them against his chest as she stood on tip toes to kiss him. She had immediately stripped his gym shorts down his thighs and knelt in front of him to inhale his swollen love log. It had been the work of only a moment to bend forward and pull her blouse over her head, freeing those delightful boobs to his gaze and touch. Still he hadn’t been able to resist the magic her mouth was working on him, so he had put his hands behind her graying head and began pumping his cock into her hot mouth. He remembered how delicious it had felt to feel his cock shooting in and out of her mouth until, with three generous helpings of hot cum, he had filled her stomach with his seed.
Without another word, Maggie had pulled him over to the enormous couch in her living room and gone down on him again. Only when she once again had him semi rigid did she raise her eyes and smile at him.
“That’s the delivery I wanted,” he remembered her saying. “It’s better to get that first one out of the way so I can enjoy the rest of this.” She had pulled her skirt high on her hips, revealing a lack of panties, and a bush that was the color of her own fading red hair. She had stroked him a couple of times to get him back to his original rigid state, then centered the head of his cock on the opening to her vagina. With a hard pull on his hips, she had driven his cock almost to full depth in her hungry pussy, aided by her own juicy secretions. Remarkably strong, she had pulled him over her and then began pumping her hips, trying to get the rest of his swollen cock in her tight pussy.
Mel had helped, of course. Draping her legs over his arms and then pulling them to his shoulders, he had driven into her completely, earning a gasp of surprise and delight from Maggie. “Ah, that’s what I wanted,” she had told him as he pulled back slightly and then rammed himself home in her hot twat once more.
He remembered how, after that first blinding orgasm, she had slid from beneath his heavy body and led him to her bedroom where he had spent the night reprising his role as the hot stud Maggie had wanted.
That had been his first full night with one of his “harem” as he now called them. His mother had given him hell when he came dragging in at seven the next morning, barely in time to change and go back to work. Fortunately his father, who Mel suspected of dipping his own wick in some of the ladies of the town, had stepped in and told her that it was okay. “Sooner or later, every boy has to become a man,” he had told his wife and given Mel a wink that said more than words. Mel’s mother had not like that, but she couldn’t prevent her husband overruling her time after time beyond that morning until it was now expected that he would be out for the night if he called and told his parents he would be “out tonight.” Secretly, even his father envied his prowess after a long talk about taking responsibility for his actions and avoiding unwanted pregnancies.
So, even with those thoughts going through his mind, Mel left the store to change clothes and then go visit Maggie.
My wife, uncharacteristically sitting by herself, was thinking of Mel even at that same moment. She was trying to determine whether with her stable of studs she had room for one so young. The realization that her panties were damp just from the thought of what she had seen pressed tightly against the fabric covering Mel’s thighs probably caused her rationalization that she had “a duty to teach the younger generation. She suspected that Mel already had his own group of ladies judging from the stories going around town, but she rationalized that her own experience could teach him even more.
“Why not?” she thought to herself, giggling in anticipation. Going to her cupboard, she took a quick inventory of items she could reasonably use to justify another trip to the store tomorrow.
The next day it was raining. Linda considered putting off her visit for another day. She could have any one of her other lovers fill her void tonight, but the idea of that young, virile boy had already awakened her interest to the point she began changing clothes and hoping the rain would stop. Going through her wardrobe, she chose what she knew would be an outfit that would cause instant arousal in most men, then she shook her head as she realized it would be covered by her raincoat. Choosing one of her less exposing costumes, she put it on hurriedly and began the short drive to the grocery.
The rain had lessened in intensity while she drove, but the raincoat was still necessary. Pulling its hood up and stepping out of the car, she walked toward the façade that would protect her from shower still falling. Once inside the store, she looked around to see if the boy was there. She saw him just a moment after he had seen her. His smile was as infectious as it had been yesterday. She took her time unbuttoning the raincoat until her clothing was no longer obscured, then reached back with both hands to push the hood back.
Mel saw my wife’s back arch and her blouse tighten over her breasts as she took the hood from her hair. He almost groaned when he saw the swollen nubs of her breasts pressed against the lighter fabric of her blouse. It gave him an immediate reaction which he tried to hide behind the counter as her gaze passed over him and she began moving slowly down the aisles.
“Damn,” he thought to himself. “What a set of knockers!” He remembered that her legs were just as good based on yesterday’s observation, but still the high standing fullness of those beautiful bazooms caused him to lick his lips with the thought of how they would feel in his mouth.
Linda hadn’t missed the careful observation. She smiled to herself as she continued down the aisles, filling her cart with some staples she had missed on her trip yesterday. She wondered how this would play out. What could she do that would entice him to come with her? She had purposely chosen the approximate hour the store would close, but now, she wasn’t sure. Would he get off at the same time or must he remain to stock shelves. She still wasn’t sure when she finished her shopping. She watched him as he filled two bags with her purchases. She paid Mr. Turley and turned toward her cart.
“You’d better let me help you with those, ma’m,” she heard Mel’s soft voice say. She turned to him with a smile and gave him a polite “Thank you,” then followed him as he started toward the door.
“Take the rest of the day off, Mel. It’s raining so hard I don’t think anyone will come in, and we can re-stock tomorrow,” he hear Mr. Turley say.
Mel’s heart sang. He hadn’t expected such a lucky break. Now, if he could just… He almost trotted to the car with the cart, stopping only when Linda caught up with him and opened the tailgate. She lifted one bat of groceries from the cart and turned toward Mel, huddled under the overhanging tailgate with his knee inside the cargo area. “I’ll hand them to you and you can put them in,” she said.
Mel reached for the bag, his long arms going completely around it and felt her breasts pressed by the backs of his hands. He looked up, expecting a rebuke, but it wasn’t forthcoming and his hands remained there just long enough that she could be sure it wasn’t an accident.
Linda’s nipples reacted almost as Mel’s hands had pressed against her swollen buds. She almost shivered with delight as she felt that big hand press against her chest. The smile she gave him told him there would be no rebuke – only friendliness.
Linda caught up the second bag from the cart. Its stay just a few seconds more in the rain had caused it to be flimsy, so, as she lifted it, the bottom began to split. Mel’s hands were fast, sliding one hand under the bag and the other around it, the upward motion pushed one of Linda’s breasts from its half cup closure and against her thin blouse made almost transparent by the rain. She looked at Mel and saw him staring at the view he had before she had her best idea of the day. They stood that way, both holding the bag as Linda thought fast.
“I heard Mr. Turley say you could have the rest of the day off. Could you give me a hand getting these into my house? It’s only a little way. I’ll give you a tip and bring you back here or take you home, whichever you prefer.”
Mel’s heart sang. He expected a tip, but he was hoping for more, like a name and phone number, as he swung the tailgate down and hurriedly ran to the driver side door to open it for her. He smiled as he told her he would be happy to do it as part of his service to her as a customer. Linda leaned toward the passenger side door and unlocked it, giving Mel an even better view of those long legs and firm thighs as her skirt rode up halfway on her thigh when she stretched along the seat. He would have been much faster getting in on that side if he had not been mesmerized by the lovely view.
“Hurry,” Linda coaxed, as she saw him standing outside, “you’ll drown out there!”
Mel’s brain slid back into gear and he rushed to the other side of the car to the open door Linda held for him. Even in the instant it took him to scurry inside, he didn’t miss the sight of that lovely boob still standing outside it’s cup, the areola almost a reddish copper color in the fading light. He watched as Linda shrugged out of the raincoat she wore, once again forcing her breasts against the wet cloth of her blouse and giving him another view to dream of that night. Unfortunately, as her arms relaxed, the right breast sank back into it cup, depriving him of even more enjoyment.
He watched as she lifted her hips slightly and pulled her skirt high on her thighs before releasing the brake and backing slowly out of the parking place. Her attention was focused behind her; Mel’s were on those mouth-watering legs.
Their conversation was as warm as the inside of the car. Very general in nature, but he had just enough time to learn her name and marital status before they were pulling into Linda’s driveway. He had started to give up hope of more than a few dollars when Linda added that her husband was away for an extended period and she needed his help to get the groceries in the house before the sacks fell apart as they were already starting to do.
Linda unlocked the front door and started down the steps to the car again while Mel took the first bag to the door and put it inside. He was about to help her pick up the second bag with its obvious tears, when it split in her arms. Quickly he put his arms up over the top of the bad and the other beneath just before it tore completely. Together they managed to get it inside and carry it over to the dining room table where it suddenly split, pouring cans over the surface of the table.
Both laughed, commenting on how the timing had been perfect. Mel remembered the second bag and retrieved it. Linda still had not recovered enough from her arousal at the touch of his hands on her breast before. She knew that couldn’t fail this opportunity. She stepped forward to take it from his arms to see if his hands lingered again. They did. If anything even longer than before and she felt her nipples swelling at his touch as she looked in his eyes.
“Are you enjoying that?” she asked in a throaty whisper.
“Yes’m”, the smiling boy said. Emboldened by her question, he turned his palms against both breasts and squeezed them gently. “I sure am!”
“Me too,” Linda managed to say as she felt the tingling sensation his hands brought to her breasts run down her chest, and into the depths of her pussy. Even through her wet clothes, she could feel the warmth of his hands. She knew then that she was going to fuck this boy.
“Time enough for this later,” she said with a smile, covering his hands with her own. “Right now I feel like a drowned rat. Don’t you think we should get out of these wet clothes?”
Mel could hardly contain himself. He reached for the top button of her blouse, his eyes never leaving hers. With the first pushed through its eyelet, he dropped his hands to the second as he felt her hands at his belt line. The buckle unfastened, she unfastened the single button that held the trousers to his waist and then slowly unzipped his fly. Mel felt his trousers slipping, but it was something he could delay catching. Right now his hands were slipping between the facings of my wife’s blouse. He felt the warmth of her breast even as she reached through his boxers and her fingers tried to encircle his throbbing erection.
They both laughed nervously before Linda proposed the solution. “Let’s get undressed and take a hot shower before we catch our death of pneumonia.”
Both hurriedly removed the rest of their clothes. Mel allowed Linda to lead him into the tiled shower and adjust the water to the right temperature before he closed his hands over her breasts once again from behind.
Linda felt the pressing urgency of his cock against the cheeks of her smoothly rounded ass and shivered. It had been almost a week since Earl had left and, despite a couple of intervening lovers, she needed what Mel had to offer.
“I’ll wash your back if you wash mine,” she laughed. She felt the warm hands release her breasts reluctantly, and then the warm soapy water cascading over her back as Mel took her literally. It was sinfully good to feel strong hands smoothing the soft soap over her back, her shoulders, and even down the crack of her ass. He knelt behind her and washed from the crack down to her heels, then lifted her feet and washed even the soles.
“My turn,” she said softly, turning as he did. She admired the strong muscles of his back and the tightness of his buttocks as she stroked them with the soapy cloth. As he had done, she knelt behind him and washed his legs, then his feet.
Still kneeling, she said softly “Now for the fun part.” She turned him slowly with her hands on his waist. Her hands slipped lower to cover his muscular buttocks as he faced her. She gasped with pleasure as the object of her affections grazed her cheek. Eight inches of hard dick were right at mouth level and my wife would never pass up an opportunity like that. She lapped the shiny pre-cum off the ping pong ball sized knob that beyond the helmeted head tapered very slowly to a circumference even greater than that swollen glans. My wife had often told me that every cock tasted different, but until she had started sucking her partners, she never realized how much she liked all of them. Unable to resist the morsel facing her, her mouth opened wide and her lips closed just past the ridged head. She could feel it swelling even as her lips pressed forward and half of that length filled her mouth. Slowly she let her lips slide back along its length, causing Mel to shiver as her teeth grated along its length. He reached for her and managed to once again press her head toward his crotch, causing her to inhale more than half his length before she stood up and passed the soapy washcloth back to Mel. Licking her lips, she told him, “More about that later, but I need to be washed too.”

Huffing and puffing small clouds of steam out into the cold Chicago air, Melvin Jacobs waddled the distance between his job as a security guard at Loyola University and the train station where he would board a train for home.
It would be a short ride. Melvin only lived five blocks from the school. Four if he walked home from his post in the parking garage rather than walk in the opposite direction. Melvin Hardin, however, wasn’t one to walk farther than the nearest train station, bus stop or standing cab. Weighing in at nearly three hundred pounds, walking was always more trouble than it was worth.
It wasn’t the strain on Melvin’s soft and heavy body that caused him to avoid walking whenever he could, although his physique certainly didn’t encourage it. It was the looks he’d get between wherever he was and wherever he was going. Melvin couldn’t stand the way people looked at him.
Being the fattest person on campus brought with it a terrible popularity not entirely unlike the fame he endured in high school. The difference was that in high school, he’d been a star football player. He was the anchor of the De La Salle defensive line. Almost no man alive got past him and the few that did paid a heavy price for the honor. He was everyone’s friend (who’d want two hundred and seventy pounds of muscle as an enemy) and the girls, while not exactly fighting over him, were always available.
Now, he was a security guard at the same school where his football career ended. Double-teamed by a knee injury and a relaxed training schedule, Melvin ballooned up to three hundred pounds and rode out his academic scholarship on the sidelines. Having graduated with a degree in criminal justice and few skills save those his diploma suggested he possessed, Melvin became a security guard at the school. He was working the only job he was qualified for with the only people who would hire him.
And since then, he had to deal with the look.
The look said “Why are you here?” It was pitying and accusing at the same time. In a single glance, usually accompanied by the person quickly looking away to avoid eye contact, people would ask him the question he asked himself every chance he got. What happened?
When he was still in college, shuffling back and forth between classes, he at least appeared to have a purpose. A reason for being there. As long as his scholarship held and he continued going to classes, he could fool himself into believing he was actually accomplishing something on that campus.
Now, with his life summed up in a stiff canvas badge that was sewn on his shirt, he could no longer afford himself the delusion of believing he was moving towards a goal. Having encapsulated his entire life into the five blocks between his claustrophobic little apartment and his worthless little job, he couldn’t even delude himself he was moving towards anything at all. It was over. This was where he would spend the rest of his life. His only realistic hope was that he would die young, suffering a pointless life rather than a long and pointless one.
Melvin stared out the window on the subway, avoiding eye contact with everyone else. The dirty brick buildings outside rattled past as the train coughed its way through Chicago’s north side. Melvin looked at the crumbling structures and realized that he would look at these same buildings every day for the rest of his life.
He spent the rest of the ride staring at his shoes.
With an uncharacteristically gentle stop, the train hissed into the station nearest Melvin’s home. Melvin considered just riding the train to the end of the line and letting his mind run free. He’d contemplated his future more in the past twenty minutes than he had during his entire college career. He wondered what conclusions he might come to, what he might learn about himself if he were to just stay on the train and think on his situation.
His thoughts were interrupted by the realization that he was watching the train doors slide shut right in front of him. Standing on the train platform, he watched it pull away, leaving him behind in all-too familiar surroundings. He considered for one brief moment getting on the next one and thinking about what to do next. What really to do next. Surely he could do better than this?
Oh well, there was always tomorrow’s train ride.
Melvin was making his way along the dark, shadowy street where his apartment was when he heard a voice call out to him.
“You! Come here!”
Turning around, Melvin saw a street vendor with her wares on a small wooded table underneath a picnic umbrella. She wore a greasy red scarf over her silver hair. Large, golden hoop earrings hung from her withered ears. Even from across the street, Melvin could see what must have been dozens of rings on her fingers.
Melvin looked to either side of him to see if there was anyone else she might have been calling out to. After all, she was all the way across the street. He knew though. He knew he was being called as surely as if she’d actually said his name.
The old woman looked up from her table and locked eyes with him. They were piercing, even at that distance. She held up a glittering hand and gestured for him to come to her. There was no kindness in her face, she didn’t smile or take her eyes from his. It was less as if she wanted to sell him something and more that she wanted to impart some grim and disturbing information. She looked like a surgeon about to tell a family member that the patient wasn’t going to make it.
Melvin made his way carefully across the street. Melvin’s mother had instilled a fear of crossing the street in him at a young age, making it abundantly clear that if a car was coming at him, there would be little either he or the car would be able to do about getting their massive bulk out of the way in time.
Standing in front of the woman’s table, Melvin could see she was selling candles. “Gypsy Candles” was written in black marker on a paper plate. Melvin reached out to examine one of them when the woman spoke to him in a harsh voice.
“That one is not for you boy.”
“What.”
“I see you walking towards your little house,” the woman said in a child’s mocking voice. “You are sad inside, unhappy. I know what you need. You need a gypsy candle. I will pick the one that is for you.”
Melvin had half a mind to walk away. He didn’t like her high-pitched, swaying voice. It had the quality of a teasing child’s song. He was about to turn around right then and there when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye.
One of the candles was lit, it’s flame still and steady despite the constant blasts of legendary Chicago wind that came whipping down the street every few seconds. The huge picnic umbrella over the table bent and skittered with every gust and the woman’s colorful scarves and robes danced in the breeze as well. The candle’s flame never even flickered.
“You see,” the woman said. “My candles are special. They bring luck.”
Melvin was impressed, but he wasn’t ready to dive off the deep end with this lady. The candles were special all right. Probably the best made in the history of the craft. He wasn’t ready to believe that they were magical though. She had him pegged for the wrong kind of sucker if she was trying to sell him a “magical” candle.
“Real nice lady. I’ll give you five bucks for one of the big ones.”
The shriveled little gypsy hissed and made as if she would spit on him.
“No,” she barked. “I will pick the one you need.”
She reached into a wax-stained cardboard box beneath the table and pulled out a blood-red candle that could have been no more than two inches high.
“Twenty dollars,” she demanded as if she was offering him wealth beyond his wildest dreams and he should be grateful.
“Twenty! For that thing,” Melvin made a sound that was half-laughter, half-disgust and almost sprayed the woman with spittle before turning away to leave.
“Wait. Watch.”
The woman’s voice was icy and hard. Melvin found himself turning around, his desire to leave washed away in the sound of her voice.
The old woman picked up a burned match from the assorted debris on the table and placed the scorched charcoal tip between her thumb and forefinger. With a swift motion, she snapped her fingers and held the now lit match up for Melvin to marvel at.
“Neat trick lady. I still don’t see how that makes these candles worth twenty bucks,” Melvin said. Still, he was beginning to feel uneasy. The woman didn’t seem to be performing for him. Her movements were deliberate and practiced. This seemed less like a magic trick and more like a ritual.
Ignoring Melvin altogether, the old woman touched the tip of the match to the candle’s wick. It caught instantly and the flame crawled down the cloth wick towards the red wax of the candle. The old woman was staring intently at the candle. When a strange smile broke out across her face, Melvin leaned in closer to see what she was seeing that he wasn’t.
Melvin’s first thought was that the candle was burning faster than it should. Wax was pouring down the candle in every direction trying to escape the flame. In a few minutes, the candle would be nothing more than a puddle.
Then he heard a woman moan.
Instantly he looked up at the gypsy, but before he could wonder whether or not she’d made the sound, he heard it again.
It was coming form the candle.
Melvin looked closer at the candle. It had taken on a definite shape in the few moments it had been burning. It appeared to be a tiny sculpture of a man and a woman locked in embrace. Melvin watched in amazement as a rivulet of wax ran down the side and, as it did, the man’s arm moved from the woman’s waist to her arm, then to the back of her neck.
The entire image was moving. Her leg encircled his waist, he bent to kiss the side of her neck. Melvin could even make out the ripple of the man’s throat as he kissed his mate and the woman’s fingers clench the man’s ribs in response.
“My God,” Melvin said under his breath.
A low chuckle came from the gypsy as she blew out the candle and the image instantly disappeared. Now, it looked like little more than a misshapen glob of wax with a burnt little strip of fabric sticking out of it.
“You see now,” the woman said.
Melvin only nodded.
“Twenty dollars is nothing for my magic eh,” she said softly. “Nothing at all?”
“How,” Melvin began, having to clear his throat several times before continuing. “How does it…how do you make these?”
“Bah,” the woman said, the sound a bubbling growl in her throat. “As if I would tell. As if you could understand. Is old family recipe,” she said as if telling some wonderful joke. “It works. That is all you need to know.”
“Okay, I’ll buy it,” Melvin said, removing his wallet. “But how do I get it to work.”
The woman clapped her hands and smiled a wide, toothless grin as she took the money from Melvin. “It is strong magic. Just light candle in the same room with woman you want, and you will have her.”
“Wait, it does more than just…it’s not just to look at?”
“Bah! Just to look at? What kind of magic is that? All magic does something.”
“So this is a love potion or um, a love spell?”
“Bah, potions and spells,” the woman said, throwing up her hands as if she were tying to explain the mysteries of the universe to an embicile. “Is magic, that is all! Light the candle in the same room as a woman and you will have her. You don’t need to know more.”
Melvin suddenly looked up and down the street for anyone who might have overheard their conversation. At that moment, he saw a woman turn the corner. He’d seen her several times since he’d moved in, but he’d never even spoken to her. She was carrying several bags of groceries so it was impossible to make out any features save her eyes, but even at this distance, her eyes were intense.
“Any woman,” Melvin asked.
“Yes,” the woman hissed, pressing the candle into his palm.
Melvin looked down at the candle, about to demand a fresh one, but the wick was white and clean, as if it had never been lit and the wax had taken on the shape of a man and a woman again.
“How?”
“It magic! Now go!”
Throwing a battered twenty at the old gypsy, Melvin quickly crossed the street, ignoring how his belly jiggled up and down over his belt. He put the candle in his pocket and noticed it was warm. He wasn’t entirely certain how to feel about that, so he decided to ignore it. Like the gypsy said, what did he know about magic?
“Can I help you?”
The woman peeked over her packages at Melvin and after considering him for a moment, smiled and handed him the largest of her bags.
“Thank you,” she said in heavily accented English. “I’m Nadia.”
“I’m Melvin,” he said as he turned towards the apartment building. “I’d shake your hand, but it appears to be full.”
“Aha,” she laughed. “Just a little. I promise to shake your hand once we get these inside.”
“It’s a deal.”
Inside, Melvin waited with double armfuls of groceries while Nadia fished for her keys. Once she’d opened the door, she invited him inside.
“Could you put those over there,” Nadia asked as she hung her jacket on a wooden peg near the door.
“No problem,” Melvin huffed as he set the groceries down on the kitchen countertop. When he turned around, Nadia was standing there with her hand extended.
She was breathtaking and Melvin had to thrust his own hand out to avoid staring at her too long. Her eyes were a dark gray, the exotic color of smoke. Her skin had a hushed olive tone to it and looked like polished mahogany in the weak light of her apartment’s single lamp. She wore plain jeans and a pink sweater that not only set off the color of her skin, but hugged her body in every conceivable way.
“I promised you a handshake Melvin,” she said wrapping his thick fingers in her own soft and slender grip. “I always keep my promises.”
“Well Nadia,” said Melvin wiping some sweat off his lip. “You need anything else, I’m at the end of the hall.”
“Oh, so that’s you I hear?”
“Um,” Melvin said taken aback. He’d been so expectant to hear ‘All right, goodbye’ that he actually didn’t understand what Nadia had said.
“I’m sorry?”
“Your music,” Nadia said with a smile. “I hear you playing jazz records at night.”
“Oh,” Melvin said. Still regaining balance from this sudden change in conversation. “Yeah, they help me sleep.”
“Me too,” Nadia said. “When we first came to this country, my father bought jazz records. He loved the jazz.”
“Where did you come from?”
“Romania. I am a gypsy.”
“Really,” Melvin said. “Do you know the old woman?”
“Mama Tadescu? Yes, she was a friend of my parents when we came to this country. She made sure I knew the old ways. She would tell me stories.”
Melvin wanted to ask how old the woman was, but he didn’t want to seem rude.
“What kind of stories?”
“Stories from the old country. Fairy tales and ghost stories. She told me her mother was a witch and one day she would show me how to do magic like in the old country. Foolishness like that. Things to frighten and amaze a small child.”
“Yeah,” Melvin said as a cold chill traced a streak down his back. “Foolishness.”
“So,” Melvin said, quickly changing the subject. “You like jazz huh?”
“Very much so,” Nadia said. “But I was young when papa died and mother sold his records. Mother hated jazz. I think it reminded her of him. I was never allowed to listen to it until after she died. By then, it had been so long, I couldn’t remember any of the songs.”
“Well,” Melvin said, venturing far into territory that had been unfamiliar ever since he left high school. “If you want, you can stop by and listen.”
“Can we listen now?”
Melvin actually took a step back as his mind staggered under the force of her request. He’d been unprepared earlier, but this was shocking. Their meeting had gone beyond going well. This was amazing. For the first time since he pocketed it, Melvin could feel the heat of the candle against his thigh.
“Uh, yea. Just let me tidy up a little. I’m not exactly prepared for company.”
“Oh yes. You’re still wearing your clothes for work,” Nadia said, looking him up and down. Her face didn’t wrinkle up when she saw his size and she didn’t seem to care that he was a security guard. He could have kissed her for that.
The he realized he was probably only a few records away from doing just that.
“I’ll tell you what,” Nadia said. “I was about to cook some dinner. I’ll get it started and we can eat and listen to music at your apartment.”
“All right,” Melvin said as calmly as he could. His hands were clenching and unclenching uncontrollably, but since neither he nor Nadia looked down, neither noticed.
*** *** ***
Melvin couldn’t remember the time spent cleaning his apartment but when Nadia came knocking on the door but it was spotless nonetheless. Right before he opened the door for her, he set the gypsy’s candle on the coffee table next to the couch. He hoped she would see it, perhaps rekindling their earlier conversation. Nadia never even glimpsed it, however, offering him a steaming pot of food as soon as she came through the door.
“Here it is,” she said with a smile. “I hope you like beef stew.”
“Sure do,” Melvin said taking it from her. Actually, he hated beef stew, but he wasn’t about to say so. Besides, his appearance suggested that he disliked few things that were edible. There were probably worse insults to a person’s cooking than having a three hundred pound man turn his nose up at it, but Melvin couldn’t think of any.
He took a large pot from her and set it on his stove. After spooning out two bowls of stew, he took them into the living room where Nadia was flipping through his CD’s.
“There’s so many,” Nadia said as she set the bowl on her knees and continued to flip through his music collection.
Nadia had changed into a peach colored sundress with white sandals. Melvin forgot how hot the apartments got when the superintendent turned the heat on and he was already heating up in slacks and a button-down shirt.
Melvin selected a CD at random and popped it in. The two ate in silence while the music played. Nadia entranced by the melodies and Melvin entranced by her. Nadia closed her eyes and seemed to feel each note. Melvin just watched her breathe, her chest rising and falling beneath the thin dress with each breath.
Melvin put the dishes away and when he returned, Nadia was hypnotized by the music. One of her hands was in her lap and the other was between the cushions on the couch. Her thighs were slightly apart. He could see the shadowy crease of her cleavage through the top of her loose sundress.
Melvin looked over at the coffee table next to Nadia and he saw the candle sitting on a small brass stand. He could vaguely remember putting it there earlier. Even though it was small and well over six feet away from him, he could clearly make out the male and female figures embracing.
Then, it lit itself.
Melvin watched, unable to move, as the white wick slowly turned black. It curled up, and then a tiny orange flame spurted from its tip. An instant later, the candle was lit.
“Oooh,”
Melvin looked down and saw Nadia lying on his couch. She had pulled her sundress off one shoulder and she was clenching and unclenching her fist, balling the dress up near her hips. Melvin could just make out the smooth white curve of underwear between her legs.
Melvin watched as Nadia slid her hand between her legs and began to rub herself. She pulled air in between her teeth in a slow hiss as she dug a furrow in the white cotton of her panties. Her thighs parted farther and she lifted her knees slightly.
“Mmmm, Melvin,” she said. Her accent even thicker with lust. Melvin gently sat next to her, afraid to touch her for fear of breaking whatever spell she was under. As soon as the couch accepted his weight, Nadia snaked her free hand out and squeezed him between his own legs.

One Shot Deals: the Dancers
Having reached the age of fifty-five and grown invisible to young women, I find myself reminiscing more and more about my former sex life. It was a good one. The list of women I had intercourse with numbers thirty-six, unless I’ve forgotten one or two. As I created the list, I realized that more than a third of those were “one-night stands.” Seven of those relationships were just bad mistakes, “thinking with the wrong head,” and quickly remedied. Seven others, however, were among the most spectacular of my life. This is one of them.
The time is from fall of 1976 to no later than 1979. The exact dates are lost in the haze of memory. But the memories of specific events are still crystal clear. If you indulge me all the background material below, I promise to reward you with very juicy and graphic details of sexual revenge at its best.
For a few years I made my living performing in musicals, both on Broadway and on tour. I am straight, but more than half the men in musical theater are gay. This gave me a distinct advantage with all the heterosexual women in the various casts. Young women in the theater are fixated on their careers rather than “settling down,” yet still require sexual release. Also, as performers, they are narcissistic and totally into their usually gorgeous bodies. Because of this, during that phase of my life I was like a bumblebee in a meadow filled with daisies. If you can tolerate with their many-layered neuroses, you’re in like Flynn.
I was a “singer who acts.” which got me secondary lead roles. Among the chorines, those “dancers who sing,” the women are incredibly lithe and supple and can get into more positions than the Kama Sutra. Their energy is also astonishing. Finally, the Broadway dancer is not the stick on toe shoes that ballerinas are. Most are merely a bit thin. I personally cannot stand it when women lie on their backs and their ribs and hip bones jut up like concentration camp victims.
Early on, I hooked up with a dance gypsy whom I’ll call Dawn. She was only five foot five, which was the minimum for the profession, but she made up for it with incredible talent in jazz, tap, and ballet. Moreover, she had a killer body. Her tits were the finest I have ever encountered. They were 36 C and absolutely firm. You could bounce a quarter off her ass. Her thighs were like rock covered by velvet. And she had flawless, pale skin with not one mole or beauty mark. Dawn’s bodily perfection was remarked on by everyone. Once, when Playboy was having one of its periodic contests to find extraordinary women, she asked me if I would take photos of her. She knew that photography was one of my hobbies. After the session I realized why some men have the photographer’s model fetish, where they pretend to be serious lens men but merely go from nude session to nude session, often with no film in the camera, just to get their jollies. There was something extra about viewing Dawn through the lens of the Hasselblad. The fact that we started with her fully clothed and went through a prolonged strip tease, right to her lying on her back on my couch with her hard tits defying gravity, her left leg up over the back of the couch, and her wet, blood-engorged pussy exposed to the lens helped a lot. The session last four hours. It would have been over in two except that I had to fuck her four times in between.
For all her beauty and double-jointedness, Dawn was not a good lover. She was like some cars: beautiful to look at but like lead sleds on the highway. She mostly lay there and thought that was enough. For the first few times, it was. But I’m sure you agree that sex needs invention to stay fresh. She had not an inventive bone in her body. She could dance, but she couldn’t choreograph worth shit, figuratively and literally. And then again, her face was only cute. I’m sure if Playboy was looking for shots from the neck down, she would have been a Playmate.
So, when the musical we were in together ended, we parted ways. I initiated the break-up, and other members of the cast knew it. Dawn was desperate to save face.
There was another dancer in the show. Let me call her Julia. She was light while Dawn was dark; she was blond and willowy rather than dark-eyed and brunette. She was also about five-foot-nine. Real Midwest, wholesome-looking femininity. In reality, Julia was a bitch. I do not say that merely because she had no interest in me. Julia was a lesbian. I’m sure she fooled every red-blooded man sitting in the audience. This was a femme, not a dyke. But a mean and assertive femme. I knew that she lusted after Dawn and, therefore, disliked me. Dawn, who had dabbled in bisexuality a few times in her past, knew it, too. Because I had the opportunity to jump into another show, I was allowed to leave the old show four weeks before it was scheduled to close. In that time, Dawn and Julia circulated the story that Dawn had to break up with me because I was gay and generally could not get it up for her. I know this because no fewer than three friends in the same cast contacted me to share this news. One was gay and checking out the news with hope in his heart. The other two called with laughs in their voices and knew what was going on.
Now, it never pays to deny such vicious attacks. If you do, people will think the actor “doth protest too much.” I let people think what they wanted to and figured the dancers’ maliciousness would backfire more often than it succeeded. My silence actually paid off. The theatrical community in New York is not really that large. One of the leading ladies of my next show, older than I but very classy and very skillful in the sack, took it upon herself (she thought) to turn me around. I allowed her to convert me to heterosexuality and got some very tangible rewards from her tutelage.
Fast forward at least a year. Dawn had failed to find work in New York, probably because of her shortness. She went down to Atlantic City to dance in a show, and the next I heard she was dancing in Miami. Then I heard a murky second-hand report that she pulled some shit that got her a bad reputation. Suddenly, in the professional dance world she was persona non grata. She retreated to the Big Apple with her tail between her legs. Eventually, running out of options, she decided to knock on my door. I am of the opinion that inventiveness in the sack is most often a product of a clever mind. When I got enough brains to stop overlooking women just because they didn’t have a Cosmopolitan covergirl face, I discovered this. I’m convinced Dawn was not inventive because she was, frankly, dumb. She was so dumb that she assumed the smear campaign conducted by her and Julia would not get back to me.
I welcomed Dawn with open arms and a big kiss. Within fifteen minutes, we were fucking like March hares. However, considering her loose reputation, you’d better believe I wore a rubber. She professed to miss the hell out of me, said she knew I was living alone, and wondered if she could cohabit. Ah, friends, it was like the fly asking the spider if she could land in the center of his web.
“That sounds like an interesting idea,” I said. Her eyes lit up. Then I put on a theatrical scowl. “But I’m still smarting from those nasty rumors you and Julia spread about my sexuality. I was really wounded.”
Dawn stupidly protested her innocence, but I worked her over like a 12th Precinct detective, letting her know exactly who they had told and when. When she was about to flee my apartment in abject embarrassment, I said, “Now, there is a way to get back into my good graces, Gorgeous. I know that you’re crashing with Julia of all people right now. I also know that she was the one who put you up to the rumors.”
The little conniving minx grabbed for the opening.
I am not only straight but also not into excessive kinkiness or adult toys. Nevertheless, for my revenge I visited one of the many well-stocked Adult emporia that filled 42nd Street before the city got a public conscience. I went right up to the manager and described what I wanted to accomplish, since telling it like it is is the only way to get respect in the City That Never Sleeps. He was frighteningly knowledgeable and even suggested some fillips I hadn’t considered.
When I arrived at Julia’s door on the appointed afternoon I found, as planned with Dawn, the lock tongue taped back. The door opened with no problem. I peeled off the tape and closed it behind me. The time was exactly 2 p.m. If Dawn had followed my orders to the tee, I would find her in the apartment’s little bedroom on top of Julia, who would be lying face down.
I heard Julia’s moans before I entered the room and figured all was going according to plan. I was better than I expected. Both women were stark naked. Julia lay face down with her head toward the top of the bed and half buried in her pillow. Dawn sat astride her upper back with her thighs on either flank and her shins over Julia’s arms. She faced the foot of the bed. Her face was bent low. Julia had her legs splayed out wide, offering the bottom of her glistening cunt and her asshole to her guest. Even though I tiptoed in, Dawn looked up the instant I arrived. She looked like she had been licking a glazed doughnut. She smiled wickedly.
I had already torn a small length of duct tape off before entering the apartment. I came up on Julia’s blind side and, before she could react, clapped the tape securely over her mouth.
It’s amazing how much strength a person has when surprised. Even through the tape she made a decent amount of noise. I ordered Dawn to hang on while Julia bucked like a bronco. Meanwhile, I pushed her face into the pillow. I knew that soon enough she would run out of air. She got more frantic for a while, but eventually she realized our combined weights were too much for her. I’m sure she was wondering who the hell had entered the apartment and why Dawn was doing nothing to help her.
The moment Julia relaxed, I opened my gym bag and took out two lengths of Austrian bell cord, which is strong but not rough. I already had slip knots in one end of each. I put them around her wrists and tied her well-extended arms to the legs of her bed. She had a double mattress, and Dawn may have brought the twin one pushed against it, so that maybe sixty percent of the entire room was mattress. I had to reach down between the beds to secure the second rope.
Julia was still huffing and puffing, trying to regain her breath through her nostrils only. Dawn kept telling her to relax, that this was not something terrible, and that she really deserved it. The double-timing bitch. I let her babble on, digging her grave with her “bosom buddy.”
The guy at the Adult store had clued me in to a telescoping rod that operated much like a camera tripod leg. It adjusted from eighteen inches to about three feet. Once you had extended it, you twisted clockwise, and it locked at that length. It was truly a magic wand, because it had padded straps on either extreme, big enough to secure ankles in. I extended the rod fully, locked it, and secured Julia’s outspread legs. As you can imagine, her bucking redoubled in force. But now she was truly The Prisoner of Second Avenue.
I commanded Dawn to go lie on the other bed. Then I put my face near Julia’s and said, “Hi! Remember me? The flaming fairy? Here I am in the flesh to prove to you that you were mistaken. Are you comfortable?”
Her eyebrows furrowed, and she uttered some expletive that I chose to take as “Fuck you!”
“You want to fuck me, Julia?” I replied. “Very well, I accept your offer. But first, you look too comfortable.”
I had more goodies in the gym bag. I used two more lengths of rope cord to knot around Julia’s knees and then to tie off in the same place as her hand bonds. She was damned strong and resisted like an Olympic wrestler. Finally, I had to enlist the totally naked Dawn to help me by shoving Julia’s knees up under her while I tugged each cord, so that eventually she looked like one of the wives in The King and I offering obeisance to her king. She could not get her head more than a few inches off her pillow, and her taut and flawless ass stuck up well off the bed. Her legs, spread by the magic rod, were well opened, so that her cunt and asshole were exquisitely exposed.
“And I’ve even brought gifts. Two toys for your plumbing, Miss,” I told her, reaching into my bag of tricks.
Dawn giggled. The bitch.
One item was a large vibrator. It went into her pre-lubed cunt with no trouble. I suspected she had at least that big a weapon hidden somewhere in her apartment.
“Use it on her while you lick her pussy,” I directed Dawn.
Julia spat more invectives at the tape, but I just chuckled.
“How cruel,” I said. “Out of the goodness of your heart, you take in this ungrateful waif, and she fucks you.”
“I don’t really like licking her,” Dawn confessed. “She has a little smell.”
I put my nose close to Julia’s pretty cunt. It did possess the hint of Camembert.
“Just lap her clit,” I directed.
Dawn obeyed me while the virgin vibrator pulsed on with the power of its equally unused batteries, fucking her like the Everready bunny. I began to peel off my warm-up clothes on the twin bed. Julia scowled and turned her face away.
Julia’s already wet cunt was dripping cream by this time. I had my clothes completely off. I reached into the gym bag for the next-to-last item. It was a butt plug, another appliance naïve me had never heard of. I pulled the vibrator temporarily from Julia’s cunt and shoved in the plug, twisting it back and forth until it was well greased. Then I returned the vibrator to her vagina and inserted the butt plug in her resisting ass.
Once again, Julia tried to execute a grand jetee, but she got only millimeters.
“Does that feel unpleasant?” I asked solicitously. “Well, everything’s relative.”
I reached into the bag for the last item and handed it to Dawn.
“What do I do with this?” she asked.
It was a metal clip, the kind found in stationery stores and meant to hold perhaps fifty pages together.
“Clip it to her clit,” I said.
“Yow!” Dawn commiserated.
Julia moaned in terror, no doubt wondering what it was that so dismayed her ex-lover.
“I hope you don’t expect to do these things to me,” Dawn said.
“Never,” I truthfully replied.
“Here goes,” she said.
Julia yelped a whole lot when Dawn let the clip close. The willowy, classic blond woman who had no doubt aroused so many from the stage was doing the same for me, but in a much less dignified manner. My cock was approaching ten on the Rectum Scale. I was stroking it as I surveyed Julia’s exquisite predicament.
I got a condom out of my wallet.
“Get on your back right here, Dawn,” I instructed, patting the twin. “All this play has made me super horny.”
“Me, too,” the slut replied. She lay back and spread, holding her great tits up for my pleasure. Within seconds, I was deep in the saddle and making, as Will Shakespeare wrote, “The two-headed beast” with Dawn. She and I were loving the rubbing and making appropriately animalistic noises.
Julia swung her head back. She could not resist watching. I wondered if she had ever seen a man and a woman make love. For her edification, I fucked Dawn first in the missionary position. Then I had her climb over me and fuck me facing from above. We fucked on our sides. Next, I sat with my back to the wall and had her do squats on my rampant cock while facing away. All the while I pawed and mangled her wonderful tits. Every so often, I would turn her head to grab a sloppy kiss. Sometimes, I’d stick my thumb in her mouth so she could suck it. Eventually, I had her get off my dick, peel off the rubber, and give me a spirited rim job. She was good as long as you gave her explicit direction. The same as one stage. Julia watched in rapt fascination.

“It looks better than you thought, doesn’t it, Julia?” I asked. “You’re thinking you want the same.”
Her eyes smoldered with hatred.
I was close to cumming, so I pushed Dawn away. I said, “Time to check the ovens. See if they’re at the proper temperature for the meat.” I came up behind Julia and took out the vibrator. I handed it to Dawn and told her to put it in her own cunt. She obeyed without demur.
“Okay, time to become a real woman,” I said, rubbing my cock head up and down Julia’s slit. She moaned in protest. “Oh, come on! You should try everything once in life. When somebody starts whispering rumors that you’re a lesbian, don’t you want to be able to truthfully say you’ve fucked the cum right out of a guy?” Having said my prepared speech, I every so slowly inserted my cock head into her sopping slit. I moved it in just so she knew she had been penetrated. Then I eased back out. Over and over I teased her cunt, moving a millimeter farther with each stealthy assault.
“So nice, so nice,” I intoned softly, over and over. “You feel wonderful.”
“How come you’re fucking her without a rubber?” Dawn was dumb enough to ask.
“Because she hasn’t fucked the phone book,” I replied, without caring how she felt.
Dawn smirked but kept fucking herself with the vibrator. She was on her side with her top leg held high. I could see from her expression that she was incredibly turned on by Julia’s ravishment.
“You like watching your partner in crime suffer, don’t you?” I asked, to insure that Julia would have no second thoughts about forgiving Dawn.
“It’s really hot,” she said. “Maybe she’ll love it so much that the three of us can become an item.”
Dream on I thought.
Inveterate cunt lapper that Julia was, the ancient rhythm of the two organs designed by nature to be together was yet having its effect on her. I detected that she was rocking back slightly to meet my drives. Plenty of cream was seeping out of her hole. I detected no more tension in her flesh. I ran my fingertips constantly up and down her flanks, her stomach, under her to her small breasts. I gently rolled her nipples between my fingers. She began to utter little grunts.
I was frankly mesmerized by her taut ass. I found myself slapping each cheek two or three times hard. “That’s for being such a bad girl,” I said, as if everything else I had done wasn’t enough. “Somebody should have paddled your ass a long time ago, and maybe you wouldn’t be so stuck up.” She yelped a few times but did not struggle.
I leaned forward and kissed Julia on the cheek, then on the eyelids, then the forehead, and down her neck. She had her eyes closed. She was probably pretending I was a beautiful woman and my cock a strap-on dildo. I didn’t care. I felt her tremble. I returned to my steady rocking fuck. My balls were relentlessly contracting, threatening to explode. I pulled out and sat back on my haunches, marveling at the beauty of Julia’s backside. I gently removed the clip from her clit. I made solicitous sounds as I petted and stroked the swollen, red nub. She continued to moan. I increased my strumming. She sounded like she was singing “Row, row, row, the little man in the boat.”
“Watch out!” Dawn warned. “She squirts when she comes.”
I had heard about but never seen this phenomenon, in spite of the fact that I had by this point in my life fucked more than two-dozen women. I kept up my diddling efforts. Within another few seconds, I was rewarded with a low, guttural groan from Julia’s taped mouth and a quivering of her entire lower half. I could swear her cunt lips vibrated as she came. Sure enough, out squirted the liquid which I suppose is the equivalent to men’s prostate gland secretions. She continued squeezing out her climax as best she could in her trussed-up state, then collapsed in a heap.
“God, that made me horny,” Dawn said. She swiveled around like a bitch in heat and presented her open cunt to me. “Fuck me now!”
“Sorry. We’re on a strict schedule with Julia here,” I said, removing the butt plug a few moments later. “She’s dancing tonight. Must give her time to recover.”

Hello, fair fans, and welcome to more of my wild, unbridled sex romps. If you want to read more of my stuff after reading this, please visit my profile. I reserve all commercial and all non-electronic rights to this work. If you are not permitted to read this work in your legal jurisdiction, please don’t read it. I am also stating that the name “Brett Lynn” is a pen name I use. Any persons who have this name as their birth name has no connection whatsoever with this story, nor any other works under the name Brett Lynn. Please be advised. So, without further ado, let’s get on with the show.
The Wonderful Adventures Of Miss K: Tracy’s Turn
Miss K ran her head, fumbling her motel room key in her hand as she jogged down the scorching Houston road. Though the heat and humidity told her to stay in the sanctuary of her air-conditioned room, habit and the confinement of the long drive down from New Orleans got her running through this heat. She managed to run in the smallest amount of clothing she could war without body parts flying out: a simple bra sports bra, a pair of spandex shorts with a pair of black running shorts over them. Her sweaty blonde hair was pulled back behind her in a pony tail as she managed to make the final turn for the motel on the highway. Kicking it up a notch, she bounced from step to step on the roadside, dodging cars in the parking lot before bounding up the stairs back to her room. As she opened up the door, she felt the air conditioning in the room hit her with a blast of relief.
“Hey there Miss K!” Tracy said as was sitting up on the bed watching TV. “How’s it going?”
“OK,” she said as she pulled the rubber band out of her hair, letting it loose. “The heat would like to kill me though. So whatcha watching?”
“Oh, Married with Children. Bud is doing this college calendar for a class project…”
“…And the star turns out to be a former guy,” Miss K said as she pulled her sports bra over her head, then jiggled her breasts a bit to loosen up some sticky skin. “I know this series by heart. Ironic show for this trip, huh?” Miss K said as she pulled both pair of shorts down in one motion, then stepped out of them.
“Yeah, that is true…and thanks for ruining the show for me!” Tracy said with a chuckle.
Tracy turned her gaze at Miss K when she heard her flop down on the bed. She let her eyes linger over every inch of her body, from the tight, bulging muscles of her arms, over to her quivering tits, then down that washboard stomach to that pulsing piece of meat between those athletic thighs and long legs. She licked her lips, thinking about how delicious her friend’s sweat-glistened body looked right now, wanting to suck and touch and lick every inch of that skin.
“Yeah, I think I’m about to jump…” Miss K trailed off as she felt Tracy’s eyes running over her body. “What’s up, Trace?”
Tracy quietly stared at Miss K, letting the laugh track from the TV fill the room as she gently caressed her pussy through her panties. Then, she breathlessly commanded, “Put your right foot on the bed, facing towards the TV, then lean back on your arms. I wanna see something.”
Miss K did ask her friend asked, feeling Tracy’s gaze trace all over her huge, swollen tits and tight belly. She looked into her friend’s eyes and saw them clouded with lust, her dick starting to stir as she thought about what she wanted to do with her. She saw that Tracy’s nipples were all nice and hard, peeking out of her thin wifebeater, and she licked her lips thinking about sucking them into her mouth.
“I want you to do something for me,” Tracy said, pawing at her nipples through her shirt. “Gimme a show. Play with yourself for me.”
Miss K looked into Tracy’s eyes and cupped her breasts, rolling them around in her hands. She then lifted up one of her nipples to her lips, sucking on it as tugged on the other one. Switching one for the other in her mouth, she hummed on her nipple, buzzing her nerves right through her hardening cock. She made a show of lifting of her breasts to her mouth, batting each nipple with her tongue and swirling the areolas with her spit. Finally, she let go of one of her heavy tits, letting her hand trail it down as she milked the other with her hand. She brushed her hard belly with her fingertips, shaking as the cool skin made its way down between her legs to touch her semi- hard dick.
She grabbed her dick in her hand and slowly pulled down on it, slightly stretching out the shaft as she licked her lips, her free hand toying with her nipple. She rubbed her thumb over her tip, feeling it fill with blood under her touch as her head was overwhelmed with the sensations. As she felt her dick get fully hard, she squeezed some pre-cum out of her pee slit and rubbed it around her tip before sliding her hand back down her cock. Licking her lips, she pinched her nipple as she stroked her dick back and forth on her shaft, loving the way her skin tugged on her tip. She let her other hand drop down to her balls, holding on tight to them as she stroked her shaft harder in her hands. Panting in lust, Miss K looked over at Tracy in clouded eyes.
“Yeah, you fucking slut!” Tracy said as she looked down at Miss K’s hands stroking herself. “Keep stroking that dick for me!”
Tracy’s eyes were slit, and one of her hands as quickly pounding four fingers in her pussy, her palm slapping on her clit. She had her head tossed back, her nipples as hard as diamonds and looking very suckable. Miss K matched her masturbation to be in rhythm with Tracy’s, thinking about how she’d love that tight pussy to be getting her off right now.
“Mmm,” Miss K said as she bit her lip. “I’d love to be fucking your pussy right now!” she hissed out, her hand a blur on her dick.
“Yeah, I know you want this pussy,” Tracy said as she fucked herself harder. “Just think about my tight cunt on your cock.”
“Oh yeah,” Miss K panted out as she jacked her dick as hard as she could, her hand slapping on the base of it. As she stroked herself, her whole body quivered, her eyes glazed over as her torso and arms flexed with each stroke. She felt Tracy’s gaze on her and sped up as she heard her moan, thinking about shooting a load deep inside her friend. As she got closed, her breath got shorter, and she sat up more, dying to relieve the itch that was climbing down from under her tip and down her shaft. She closed her eyes and was about ready to let go when she felt someone pinch hard into her nipple, the nails digging in and almost cutting her.
“Stop,” Tracy said, her panting form standing over Miss K’s. She then pulled Miss K’s hands from between her legs and gave the hard dick a soft stroke. “I think I have a cure for that itch of yours.”
“What?” Miss K said, annoyed that she was about to miss her cum.
“I want you to jerk off for me in the shower,” Tracy said as she slid her hand between her legs. “I want to see that water flow over your tight, curvy body. Would you do that for me?”
“Yeah,” Miss K said as she stood up on unstable legs. “Let’s go.”
Miss K led the way to the shower, turning it on to heat the water up. Meanwhile, Tracy shucked off her wife beater, giving each of her nipples a quick lick before pulling her dildo out of her purse, ready to fuck herself on it as she watched her friend’s show.
When Tracy arrived in the bathroom, she saw Miss K get ready to step into the shower, a bottle of shampoo and a bar of soap in her hands. As she watched her friend enter the shower and set down the soap and shampoo, Tracy let out a low moan as she saw the water running down Miss K’s back and shoulders down over her big, round ass, her dick looking like it was peeing with the water cascading off of it. Then she saw her run her fingers through her hair as she rinsed it off, her huge breasts popping out from the sides of her.
“Turn around,” Tracy hissed out as she started rubbing her clit.
“What?” Miss K replied, her arms crossed over her breasts.
“Turn and face that way over there,” Tracy said as she pointed to a way on one side of the shower. “I wanna see you shoot your cum onto that wall over there. That is what you’re here for, right? Or have you forgotten?!”
“Well, I do need to get clean, Trace,” Miss K said as she turned and faced the wall, picking up her soap as she was doing it.
“OK,” Tracy said as she picked up her dildo and placed one of her feet on the toilet seat. “You can clean yourself up, but you gotta clean that big, black pipe between your legs,” she moaned out before sucking half of her dildo into her mouth. “The thought of that makes me so horny!”
Miss K looked at Tracy as she lathered up the soap in her hands, feeling her dick re-harden as she saw Tracy touch herself. As she washed one arm, and then the other, she couldn’t help but get turned on as she saw Tracy tease herself with her dildo. She then lathered her tits up, feeling her dick twitch as she pulled on each of her nipples, soaped her areolas, then let the shower rinse it off. As she got in a few extra rubs on her tits, she saw that Tracy had slid the huge dildo inside of her, screaming in half-pleasure half- pain as it invaded her.
“Yeah, your fucking tits look so hot!” Tracy screamed as she fucked herself with the dildo, the friction driving her wild. “Please touch that dick for me…please!”
Miss K then ran her soapy hands down over her washboard stomach, cleaning it off and teasingly lowering her hands ever so close to her hard dick.
“Yeah,” Tracy said with slitted eyes, the dildo pumping her pussy in a flurry. “Fuck touch that cock for me!”
As Miss K slid her hands back to wash her back, she felt herself get hotter and harder as she saw Tracy explode into an orgasm, her dildo a blur inside of her as she braced herself on the toilet. Wanting to make sure she did a good enough show for her friend, she quickly lathered up her soap against and washed off her back, rinsing off her back with the shower. When Tracy came to, she saw all that water running down Miss K’s ass, coating it with a shine as she stuck it out.
“Oooo…your ass looks so yummy!” Tracy said as she started fucking herself again, licking one of her nipples with her tongue. “I’d love to lick that ass!”
“Oh really,” Miss K said as she soaped up her ass, practically groping herself. “I bet you want a taste, huh?” she continued as she playfully wiggled her ass in Tracy’s direction.
“Oh fuck yeah!”
Miss K soaped her as really well, running her fingers through her crack before spreading her cheeks a bit and giving Tracy a flash of her asshole. She then bent over and spread her legs, her hard dick and soft body framed in between them deliciously. She picked up the soap, then lathered up her hands as she washed up one of her athletic legs.
“Mmm, I wish you could bend up and suck your fucking dick, K,” Tracy breathlessly said as she kept fucking herself with that dildo of hers.
“Why?” Miss K said as she reached over to soap up the other leg.
“Well, I just love the way your dick looks and feels in my mouth,” Tracy said before licking one of her nipples. “And since I know you aren’t gonna suck anyone else’s, I love to see your lips wrapped around your own, getting yourself off. I’d love to see the look on your face when you shoot your own cum into your mouth,” Tracy said before rolling her eyes back in erotic bliss, her free hand strumming her clit as she fucked herself harder.
“Now fucking stand up and jerk yourself off!” Tracy barked as she momentarily regained her composure.
Miss K stood back up, lathering up her hands one more time, then turning so that her chest was facing Tracy while her dick and hips were facing the wall. She started stroking herself nice and slow, twisting her hand around her dick with each stroke.
“Yeah, fucking stroke that dick for me!” Tracy panted out as she pulled the dildo out of her pussy and rubbed her clit hard. “Suck on your titty for me while you make yourself cum!”
Miss K lifted up one of her breasts and sucked the nipple, feeling her dick twitch in her hands as she started to her dick harder.
“Yeah, that’s it. This about me riding that dick hard while I nurse on your tits. Doesn’t that get you hot?”
“Mmmhmm!” Miss K hummed around her nipples before letting it drop out of her mouth to moan, her hand now a blur on her dick as she squeezed on her nipple with her free hand.
“Yeah, pump that fucking dick! This about my hot wet cunt milking that fucking cock! Do you like hot that feels?”
“Uh-huh!” Miss K panted as the water from the shower muffled her voice.
“Yeah!” Tracy said as she jammed four fingers up her wet pussy, her hands a blur between her legs. “Look at me, K!”
Miss K looked over at Tracy’s hot body, sweaty and twitching as she droves herself to another orgasm. “Cum for me, you fucking big-dicked slut!” Tracy panted out. “Cum for this hot body! You know you wanna flood me with your cum!” She closed her eyes, thinking about how hot she looked for Tracy, loving the way her hard nipples and heaving chest showed how hot she was for her. She stroked as hard as she could just below the tip, loving the way the water dripped onto her body, wanting to release for Tracy, trying to give herself one last boost by pulling on her nipple. As she felt herself cumming, she felt her groin tightening up just a bit before closing her eyes and grunting as she felt her cum being pulled from out of her.
‘I’m fucking cumming!” Miss K groaned out before grunting through her orgasm, vaguely hearing her cum splatter onto the tile. As she huffed and puffed, stroking off the last bit of cum onto her hand, she nearly choked on the water that dripped into her mouth. When she finally opened her eyes, she saw Tracy kneeling down by the shower, wiping some of the cum onto her fingers, then making a show of licking it off her fingers and swallowing it.
“Man, you look hot doing that,” Miss K said as she reached over and turned off the shower.
“I can see that you like it,” Tracy said as she stared at Miss K’s softening dick. “And I know I like the taste of your cum. A bit on the cool side, but I love the way it feels sliding down my throat.”
“Thanks,” Miss K said as she stepped out the shower, with Tracy pulling another glob of cum off of the tile. “By the way, where are the towels?”
Tracy turned to look at Miss K, swirling her cum around in her mouth before swallowing it again. She then smiled and said, “they’re out by the sink, you big girl you!”
“OK, OK,” Miss K said as she opened up the door and slid out. She picked up a towel and dried herself off, the terry cloth feeling rough her post-orgasmic sensitive skin. After quickly drying her hair, she found the remote on Tracy’s bed and flopped down on her own, enjoying the way her boobs kept bouncing as she started channel surfing.
“Forget about me?” Tracy said as she slowly walked around the corner to the beds. She pawed at her pussy as she walked in front of the TV, then slithered her way onto Miss K’s bed before climbing over her friend’s body, her hips straddling Miss K’s thighs.
“Oh, so you’re gonna ride me for a few more orgasms, huh,” Miss K nonchalantly said. “OK, no biggie.”
“Yeah, you could say that,” Tracy said before flashing a wide grin and giggling as she looked down at her friend.
“OK, OK. What’s up?”
“You shall see.”
Tracy lowered her crotch right onto Miss K’s thigh and dragged it up, making her moan as she stimulated her clit while she left a trail of wetness behind. She lowered her body on top of her friend’s, then ground her pussy back and forth on the thigh between her legs while her own thigh rubbed along Miss K’s semi-hard dick. As she kept grinding herself on Miss K’s thigh, she reached down and flicked her nail on the head of her dick, making her friend shiver.
“What are you doing?” Miss K said before sucking in some air.
“Well,” Tracy said before brushing her head aside and giving Miss K’s nipple a firm suck. “You want to be treated like a girl, despite that dick between your legs, right?”
“Yeah,” Miss K panted out. “I do,” she sighed as she felt Tracy rub her tip, her thigh being ridden by her friend.
“Well, I’m going to show you how us girls fuck. Wanna try?”
“Mmhmm.”
Tracy rocked her hips back and forth on Miss K’s thigh as she bent down and took her friend’s nipple into her mouth. She then reared back up and started thrusting her hips hard against Miss K’s, bracing her hands of her friend’s tits as she grinded her pussy.
“You like how that feels? Tracy hissed out between thrusts as she squeezed Miss K’s breasts hard.
“Yeah.”
“Well, bitch,” Tracy said before taking a few long, circular licks of her friend’s breasts as she thrust harder, making both their bodies giggle. “I think I got something for you!”
The hot little blond bent down to kiss Miss K hard, grabbing onto her head as she thrusts her hips in a circle, making sure to trap the tip of her friend’s dick underneath her. As she subtly worked over their privates with her hips, Tracy pulled her mouth up a bit so her tongue could play more with Miss K’s while her hand tweaked one of Miss K’s nipples.
“Oh, don’t stop,” Miss K breathed out as she felt how Tracy was subtly manipulating her body.
Tracy responded simply by licking her way down to the nape of Miss K’s neck, working her clit back and forth of Miss K’s hips as she felt her friend’s dick stiffed up along her belly. She shifted her hips to place her slit right on top of that shaft and started fucking herself hard on it, letting that big tool slide between her lips and rub her clit.
“You like how my pussy’s soaking your dick, huh?” Tracy moaned out before she started tonguing Miss K’s ear.
“Oh yeah,” Miss K whispered in return. “That feels so nice.”
Rubbing her pussy against Miss K’s even harder, Tracy seductively said, “do you wanna fuck me?”
“Oh yeah…OW! What was that for?”
“Wrong answer,” Tracy said as she let go of Miss K’s nipple. She slid her head down to suck on it, then pressed her pussy hard against Miss K’s dick, using her lubrication to increase the friend.
“I’m going to cum on your clit, little girl!” Tracy said as she kept rubbing her body against Miss K’s. “Are you ready?”
“Mmhmm,” Miss K said, her dick twitching in anticipation of the flood of juices to come on her.
Tracy slid up Miss K’s body to kiss her, their nipples rubbing against each other while her pussy rubbed up on Miss K’s belly. Miss K wrapped her arms around her as she felt Tracy grinding her hips harder against her and moan into her mouth, turning her on in the process. Tracy screamed into Miss K’s mouth as her tongue dueled with her friend’s and her pussy slid into a hard orgasm. Suddenly, she stiffed up in Miss K’s arms, her clit taxed to the limit as she felt her insides explode, her pussy juice flowing out of her body as she came hard. She held perfectly still as the orgasm racked her body, leaving her a raw-nerves mess, her cum being stretched out a bit as her nipples rubbed on Miss K’s.
Finally, she steeled herself enough to pull off of Miss K’s body and roll off to the side. Then, Tracy got out of Miss K’s bed, walked over to hers, then jumped in.
“Hey!” Miss K said, her body a sexually frustrated mess as she pawed as her slick dick. “What gives?”
“I told you I was gonna ride you for an orgasm, silly!” Tracy said as she pulled herself under the covers. “And I did just that!”
“Come on, Trace!” Miss K whined as she touched herself and arched her back, lifting that huge chest up. “You got me all nice and horny. Don’t leave me high and dry!”
“Tough!” Tracy said as she settled down in bed. “Good night!”
“But..”
“And don’t you dare touch yourself. I got plans for you in the morning.”
Miss K sighed in resignation, then reached for the remote on the nightstand. She started channel surfing, desperate for something to get her to sleep.

Tim was never that fond of holidays. But for some reason, Halloween had a strange appeal. Maybe it because it was an excuse to act weird. Or maybe it was just the fact that people loaded up on beer and/or candy and just had a great time that made this an exception. With Vampires promising to dig teeth into the succulent flesh of necks and the thought that a hairy beast might out and plunge into the deepest, darkest valley, what’s not to like?
For some reason, Tim was especially inspired to do something different this year. He had avoided dragging out his usual sci-fi movie uniform and chose to go with a new costume: this year he inexplicably chose to be Guy Manley, the famed editor/publisher of “Broadsword” Magazine.
The garb was pretty simple. It consisted of one of those specially made “male dancer thongs” with the “enlarged” banana hammock in front. There were the mirror aviator glasses, and the white windbreaker with the upturned collar, and matching running pants and jogging shoes. Growing a day’s worth of stubble would complete the look, but Tim could apply make up to look like a beard if he couldn’t pull that off.
The only real problem was in what to do. There hadn’t been any invites. No one from the office seemed to be planning anything, and none of Tim’s friends mentioned a party, even in passing.
A few days before, and Tim still had no plans for the Scary Night. He decided to head to pick up some candy for the local trick-or-treaters and then make some calls to find out what was happening.
The mall was overrun with last second shoppers looking for some decorations for parties they were planning, so Tim parked the car at the far end of the structure. That’s when he noticed it. There was a small structure opposite the mall in a separate area near the woods. It looked like some sort of mansion, but with its glowing sign it was clearly a shop of some sort. Tim got out and walked over to it.
Mistress Clara’s Outpost was the name of the store and Tim’s hair raised right up as soon as he crossed the threshold. This was some sort of Psychic/occult store, for certain, but it seemed as if there was more that didn’t meet the eye.
In addition to the usual items like Tarot cards, horoscope charts, and books about how to capture lost loves, there were magickal candles that promised to land you a mate, potions specifically designed to put someone under your power and even a store brand thong that claimed it was “designed to make a female wearer aroused in a matter of moments” according to the box. Tim took note of all of this as he wandered around.
In the back of the store, there was a jewellery case. And as he walked past it something glinted. He stepped forward to get a closer look.
“It called to you!”
Tim jumped back, nearly stepping on a black cat that walked behind him.
“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t see or hear you.” Tim said to the woman who appeared from the back room.
“There’s nothing to fear here.” The woman said in an accent that sounded very Eastern European. Tim took a good long look at her. She looked to be in her mid 40s or so. And she seemed somewhat familiar. She looked a little bit like that woman from television. What was her name? The make up and clothing was all Elvira, Mistress of the Dark. Tim wondered whether Elvira would sue for the use of her style.
“This looks nothing like Elvira!” snapped the counter woman. “She wears black clothing, and this is midnight blue!”
“I’m sorry, I…”
“You should be. I don’t welcome comparisons.”
“Um, did I say that out loud?”
“Now. You wanted to see this piece?” The woman’s demeanor changed again as she sweetly opened the display case and lifted the item out on its black silk scarf.
Tim looked at the jewel. It was a brightly shining pink tinted crystal held in place by a silver wire shaped like a serpent on a silver chain. The crystal itself was single terminated and was about an inch in diameter and 4 inches long.
“This is called the Tall Talisman,” she said. “It is a very potent and effective amulet in winning the ways of your desired sexual quarries.” She smiled.
“How…”
“Does it work?” She picked up the silver chain, grabbed his right hand and dangled the stone over his palm. Then she lowered it down and forced him to close his fingers around it.
“You first must warm the stone. Concentrate. You need to focus. Think about a woman that you want to win.”
She leaned over the counter and Tim saw her ample cleavage struggling to stay inside the confines of her dress. She held his hand tightly with hers and brought her free hand over as well.
“How long do I…”
“Silence!” she shouted angrily. “Now. Once the jewel is properly charged, you place it around your neck. You have to make sure that it maintains close contact with your skin. Then, let the work, work!” She turned toward the back room area.
“Hm. Well. How much…”
“Does it cost? It’s not inexpensive,” she purred. “But it is worth every penny.”
Tim slipped the chain over his head and let the crystal land on his chest.
“No, wait!” she shouted and ran back towards him. Then, she stopped, flinched, jolted, stared, arched her eyebrow and smiled. She took her hands and slid them across the top of her dress and slid it down, just enough to show the upper part of her dark and taut areolae, and as she leaned in to kiss him, her tits spilled out.
Her nipples were hard and Tim couldn’t help but reach out and thumb them as her tongue started sliding into his mouth.
Frantically, she ran her hands over his shoulders and arms, clutching him as she climbed over the glass case before wrapping her legs around Tim’s waist. It was then that Tim saw she was at most, four foot ten. She was wearing ultra high platform heels and her thighs tightened as she continued to kiss and lick him.
It was at that moment, when he backed away from the counter that he realized it. Tim was larger than life.
His cock was about average, usually. But now, it felt like a tree trunk inside his pants! A tree trunk that desperately needed to spill its sap, right away!
Tim laid her back on the counter, right on the black silk and lifted her dress. There, in all its glory was her pussy, bejeweled with rings on her clit and on both labia. He hunched her forward and brought his face to her magical love box. He hungrily devoured her as she squirmed and squealed like a girl half her age.
Tim lifted her ass up higher as he continued to tongue fuck her, squeezing her butt cheeks as he ate her out. He played with her pussy lips, trying to make the two rings click against each other as he rapidly flicked his tongue back and forth! She squealed more.
The more he did this, Tim realized, the harder he felt. She was running her hands over his hair, holding his head down on her sopping wet as he started to suck her clit and play with the ring attached to it.
“Oh, yes! Oh that feels so good!” she screamed, clutching his head with one hand, and playing with her nipple with the other.
Tim had to get out of his pants before they ripped. He fumbled with his belt buckle then struggled with the button fly, all while never stopping the licking. Finally, he was able to lower the pants enough to…
WHAM!
The next thing Tim knew, the woman and he were behind the counter, on the floor.
“Ooh. You knocked me down,” she said.
When Tim lowered his pants, his finally released cock hit the display case so hard, it knocked the woman off the counter, and as she clutched him between her tight thighs, she took him over the side!
Finally, Tim got to look down and see what was going on.
His cock looked almost as big as a leg, and it was pumping. You could visibly see his heartbeat as his dick gently shifted upwards a bit at a pace of more than once a second.
With veins popping, and with girth that seemed to be the size of a CD, Tim wondered if his penis was on steroids.
“Oh, my, you are large. And you look like you have quite a heavy load!” she smiled.
Tim checked his balls which also had grown in size. His sac had ballooned to a size larger than he could fit in one open hand. So, he used both to lift himself out of his shorts and to rub his scrotal sac, just to see if it was real and not just swollen from getting kicked or something!
She slithered out of her dress and leaned back down against the wall, sliding her legs apart and slipping her fingers between the thick and slick folds of her tangy twat.
Tim had to fuck her. He just couldn’t help it! Since she was already very wet and she was holding herself open, Tim managed to squeeze the head into her in just two pushes. He raised her ass slightly, to get a better angle. She gave him a pleasured look as she spread her legs as wide as her tiny frame and the case would allow. Tim continued to struggle to get all of him into little her!
Tim focused and concentrated. “Please!”
ZIP!
Tim’s shaft easily slid inside her and he began pumping like a turbine engine.
A-pocket-ta-pocket-ta-pocket-ta-pocket-ta was the sound from their loins as her tits bounced back and forth in his face and his balls slapped against her gaping asshole, making her tighten her snatch around his expansion.
Tim felt himself filling her up entirely, fitting her perfectly as they held each other, she, trying to keep her boobs from flying all over as he pounded, and him trying not to split her in half with his massive dong, all the while his balls, churning the cream as he felt himself quickly on the path to ultimate release.
She used one arm to keep her tits from bouncing like the basketballs they were, and this time, used her other hand to stroke his ass and thigh as he pumped her.
“Oh, go slower!” she whimpered.
He immediately stopped and went very slow, inching himself inside, using his fingers to pinch and play with her clit ring as he slowly lowered.
“I’m so horny I can’t control it! Slide it all the way in! NOW!”
Just that second, Tim went balls deep inside her and he could feel the tension in her walls as they held him as tightly as she was holding his body.
He managed to slide his cock back out just a fraction before sliding it back in, barely brushing her clit ring with his torso. That did it.
She exploded with a powerful orgasm that clenched him so tightly, and clutched and released his cock so quickly, he felt the cream rising to the opening.
In slow motion, he yanked himself out of her.
The first blast of cream literally covered her belly. It was thick, white sauce that had the deep, musky aroma of sex and the look of fine New England Clam Chowder. Another blast covered her tits with man milk as Tim had no idea where to aim or how much was going to come out! Another blast, this one hitting her on the chin and another spurted across her forehead, soaking her hair with his grease.
The next blast she sat up and tried to catch with her mouth, but it was too small, and it ended up going up her nose. She recoiled backwards as he continued to spurt, spurt, spurt, every which way, coating her face and then almost the entire floor behind the counter with his very sticky glue.
He fell backward, conking his head, the necklace coming off as he hit the floor.
A moment or two later, he sat up, rubbed the back of his head and looked around. He turned and grabbed the amulet, lying just behind him, and lifted his shorts and pants.
“Wow! That was incredible. So, how much does this cost?”
No reply.
He turned to look at her and she wasn’t moving. Her face was covered with his cream!
Quickly, he grabbed the black silk on the counter and rubbed the goo off of her face and saw
A SKULL.
Tim leapt backward in recognition. This woman was not a woman. She was a skeleton.
Quickly, he ran out of the store, ran to his car, and drove back to his house as fast as he could.
Tim didn’t know what to do at that point. Should he call the police? What would he say? Officer, I was fucking a cadaver and it suddenly aged on me!
Should he just anonymously tell someone to investigate the store and maybe that person would make the disgusting discovery?
But wait. His DNA was all over the scene! If someone did find her, they’d have gallons of evidence.
But, then again, unless they had his DNA on record somewhere, there wouldn’t be any way of connecting the two.
Tim breathed an uneasy sigh.
THE PHONE RANG.
Tim nearly jumped to the ceiling.
It was then that Tim realized that he was clutching the amulet in his hand the whole while. He must have been holding it when he was running, driving and fumbling with his key to open the door. Tim finally put the thing down and answered the phone.
“Hey Tim!” came the seductive call, “Why aren’t you here yet? I assigned you to bring the booze!”
It was Angela, who was the front desk receptionist at work.
“What?”
“I know you got the email about the Halloween party. Now hurry up and get here. We have games to play.”
Did Tim get an email about the party? Hard to know. He didn’t remember checking his email before he left work. Still, Angela was one of the women that Tim longed to be around, all day, and she was one of the women that usually ignored him, all day.
“What should I bring?”
“Ketel One, If you can bring 4 bottles of that, 4 of Tanqueray, and 4 Cuervo. I have all the Bacardi. I’m making frozen margueritas too, and the first one is for you! Bye!”
“Wait where do you…”
CLICK.
“…live.”
After logging on to the computer, getting into his work mailbox and sifting through the spam, he found the notice about the party. It had an attachment which is why it wound up going to the bulk mail file: a photo of Angela in a low cut pirate outfit, leaning forward slightly and winking.
Suddenly, Tim felt another stirring in his loins. That grin, those teats, he had to have her. He took hold of the crystal in his hands and, staring at the photo, held it until the stone became hot. Without even a second thought, he jumped back into the car, picked up the laundry list of items and arrived at Angela’s.
Her yard was decked out like a cemetery, with the headstones being the names of all of the workers in the department. Ghosts floated around hanging from a mobile attached to a tree branch and blowing in the breeze. And sound effects made the area seem even scarier, with the groans and the moans of people who might be in pain.
Angela answered the door in the very same outfit she wore for the picture. Bandana scarf, low cut vertical red and white striped top and a tear-away black skirt with fishnets and open toed heeled sandals. She smiled at him.
“Avast me hardy!” she growled “Did ya bring the treasure?”
“Aye, wee lassie.” Tim tried.
“C’mon in!” she cried, letting him carry the big box of drunk into the kitchen. “Not a lot of people have gotten here yet, so that’s why I needed you to show up first, so we can start getting the drinks prepared!”
Tim looked around and saw Lucy, who worked down the hall from him, sitting on the couch watching what looked like a Vincent Price movie. She was dressed like a Wel-Com Mart employee. That was her job before she joined the company. Not a lot of creativity there.
Lucy was a bit of a frump and basically ignored Tim, pretty much always. Tim’s nickname for her was “Tighty.” He didn’t even bother to say hello as he entered, and she didn’t even seem to notice him arrive.
Tim slid the crate onto Angela’s counter, right by the blender.
“So, what’s your costume supposed to be?” Angela asked.
“I’m Guy Manley.”
“Oh, the porno guy.”
“He’s a magazine publisher. And he gets all the ladies.”
Then, as he was about to slip back into his talisman, she grabbed it.
“Aar, matey! I see ye’ve been holdin’ out on me!”
“Ye’ve?”
“What manner of treasure is this?” she asked, fingering the crystal tip.
Tim struggled suddenly to remain in control of himself as she ran her index finger over the ridge of the crystal. He was trying to think of something to say to make her give it back to him.
“Oh, yeah. I mean, Oh. That’s a rock that forces the wearer…”
Tim gasped as Angela continued to finger the tip of the stone.
“Are you ok?” she asked him.
“God, yes.” Tim shuddered, and then continued, “The holder of it has to have sex with the owner of it.”
“What?”
Angela suddenly pitched the necklace back at him and she walked towards the living room