Executive Secretary
by Michael Drax 


I 

Al Monte stepped out of the elevator onto the thirty-first floor of the 
Portland Plaza building. He found himself in the plush lobby of a legal 
office, richly appointed in subtle shades of gray, with matching ultramodern 
furniture and modern art prints on the walls. 

No, correct that, Al thought. Make that modern art originals, and expensive 
ones, too. Shit, this is going to cost me a fortune! Not that Al Monte 
didn't have a fortune, he was a well-to-do Portland businessman who had made 
his wad with a chain of liquor stores, but the prospects of blowing a good 
portion of his cash on this divorce was not something that sat well with 
him. And then he saw her, and for a few moments his troubles didn't seem to 
be quite so pressing. 

She was, without a doubt, the hottest bottled blonde he'd ever clapped eyes 
on! She had a pair of startling blue-green eyes, a pair of sharply up-thrust 
boobs that were barely restrained within the tight confines of her dress, 
and a smile that took Al Monte's breath away-and he couldn't remember that 
having happened in a long, long time! 

"May I help you?" the girl behind the reception desk said, in a cool, 
utterly professional voice. She was pleased by the way that Al Monte's eyes 
were practically popping out of his head glued to her, especially her boobs. 
Without him for a moment becoming aware of it, she had to restrain a giggle. 
This guy's too easy, she thought, and then she demurely lowered her eyes 
from his gaze, which also provided a chance for her to focus her eyes on his 
pants and to watch his crotch swell perceptibly. In her mind she quickly 
totted up whether this was a fish that was worth going after, and then 
decided that he probably was. 

Ah," Al said, "I have an appointment with one of your lawyers. Mr. Kuhlman?" 

"And your name sir?" Efficiency and warmth, and not faked. With some 
surprise Al realized that here, sitting before him, was a miracle of modern 
business: a truly receptive receptionist. And he wondered: What besides 
clients was she good at receiving? He would have been quite amazed to know 
that she was thinking essentially the same thing.... 

Two strangers, separated by a few feet of carpeting, a few millimeters of 
extremely thin clothing, a few feet of desk, were sharing the same fantasy. 
He, of sliding the hard sausage of his swollen cock between those scarlet 
lips, those perfect white teeth; she, of the taste of his quivering veiny 
rod, pumping and splattering jism all over her tongue and into her throat. 
But this time, unlike many other times with many other men, her fingers did 
not reach out and slide down the zipper on Al Monte's trousers. They did not 
reach into his pants and extract his stiff member from within and pull it 
forth. Instead they pressed a small plastic button and lifted an ivory 
plastic telephone handset. 

"Carmine?" she said, in that same cool tone that would have left a pat of 
butter unmelted on her tongue, "tell Mr. Kuhlman that Mr...." Those 
incredible blue-green eyes gazed up at the businessman standing in front of 
her. 

"Monte. Al Monte," he said, and smiled. 

"Mr. Monte is here to see him." She listened for a moment, then said, 
"Okay," and sat down the phone. "Mr. Monte," she said, teasing him with 
laughing bedroom eyes, "please have a seat...."where you can watch me wiggle 
my titties a bit, just to watch you sweat, she added to herself-"and Mr. 
Kuhlman will see you shortly." 

Al took a seat in a Naugahyde chair and pretended not to stare as the 
receptionist did what amounted to a perfectly conscious little sitting dance 
of moving things about her desk and leaning over to show her cleavage. 
Already Al Monte was considering how he could maneuver his way to get in the 
sack with the secretary, what his initial play for her might consist of, 
what might entice a girl like her into getting involved with a man who was 
at least twenty years older than her, and what it would be like once he had 
enticed her into screwing him. Undoubtedly she had boyfriends by the bunch, 
maybe even a husband, although he had made sure to note that she wasn't 
wearing a wedding ring. Perhaps he could wrangle a date for lunch, later. 
That wasn't much of a commitment, and maybe she might even go for it, just 
to check him out, to see if some deeper involvement-like deeper, right 
between the legs might be a good idea. And then, once Al had demonstrated to 
her that he was well fixed financially, and had a lot to offer a young chick 
like her, maybe he could show her another area he was pretty capable in, 
namely some bedroom ballet. He glanced up at the blonde secretary again, but 
she wasn't looking at him, just working over some papers. Shit, he would 
have loved to get his hands on those awesome tits, get his dick into her 
undoubtedly tight pussy.. Here was a living, breathing wet dream come true, 
and Al Monte was in no mood for waking up He was on the verge of breaking 
into a sweat by the time William St. John Kuhlman, Esquire came to pluck his 
pigeon from the waiting room. 

* * * 

It was about fifteen minutes and several dozen transferred phone calls later 
when Johnny Dearer came by. 

While the lawyers and clients of the firm came and went in four hundred 
dollar three-piece suits and foreign cars with unpronounceable names, 
Johnny, just a stock jockey, was in jeans and an Oregon plaid flannel shirt, 
sleeves rolled up to reveal his descendent-of-lumberjack muscles. He drove a 
dilapidated pickup with a spring that stuck out of the passenger side of the 
seat and jabbed you in the ass when you sat down, that was Johnny Dearer's 
style. While the receptionist didn't think about him much, when she did she 
pigeonholed Johnny as a 'nice guy'-for a redneck, that is. 

He sat down the case of photocopy paper he had been carrying on a corner of 
her desk, and with an exaggerated John Wayne drawl asked, "Gonna let me buy 
you lunch today, Cheri?" 

She thought about it, but only for an instant. He was kind of cute, in a 
woodsy sort of way, but he really wasn't the kind of guy she went for. She 
just couldn't imagine Johnny Dearer behind the wheel of a Ferrari, or 
gambling in Monte Carlo. That was the lifestyle to which she would have 
liked to become accustomed. She wasn't sure that she ever would, but a girl 
could dream, couldn't she? Even though Oregon was nice to look at, she was 
hungry to move on, and hungry for more than that, too. She wanted 
excitement, and money, and men; lots of men in various shapes and designer 
colors! And so Cheri, even despite herself, thought for a moment of adding 
Johnny to her collection, but then she discarded the idea. She didn't want 
to get involved with some monogamous moralistic macho lumberjack type who 
would go into a raving shit fit if he ever saw you looking at another guy. 
And Johnny's style in bed, well, she could just imagine how that was. Maybe 
his dick would be big-Hell, everything else about him was big-but she could 
just imagine that all-star wrestling match that screwing him would be! He'd 
be in and out and you'd have a cunt full of cream before you could say "God 
Bless America!" No, Cheri didn't think that Johnny Dearer was quite what she 
was looking for in a man. At least not for the moment. 

"No, Johnny," she said with genuine regret, "I don't think it would be a 
good idea." And then she smiled so sweetly, so innocently, that the bottom 
dropped out of Johnny Dearer's stomach and his dick felt like somebody had 
put a stranglehold on it. 

The macho, true to form, recovered his composure and bounded back with a 
shrug and a leering smile. He picked up the box, winking, and said, "Get it 
while you can, Babe, this offer ain't going to be around forever...." 

"I'll be sure and keep that in mind," she laughed as he slipped through the 
door behind her. 

A moment later the elevator bell chimed, the door slid open, and, as 
happened regularly each morning, Heaven stepped out. 

Heaven in a uniform, California blonde hair, blue eyes, a deep natural tan, 
and a lifeguard's physique. In the Air Express Messenger's uniform of 
snappy, sharp-looking shirt and cute short pants showing off sexy muscular 
legs, Michael Blade was Cheri's idea of Heaven. Now, if only he had 
money.... 

It happened nearly every day. He'd rush in off the elevator with a milkcrate 
filled with packages and her heart would stop. As soon as Cheri saw him her 
nipples would start to ache, coming suddenly to attention like soldiers on 
parade within the clinging cups of her bra, and her panties would get real 
damp and squishy. It had been going on for months and months, and now he 
hardly even needed to speak. The fact was that it was getting to the point 
where Cheri sometimes regretted it when Heaven stepped out of that elevator. 

"Fifteen minutes?" Michael asked, his blue eyes dazzling her, even against 
her will, with sexual heat. 

Just the shape, the posture, the attitude of his body made her want to fuck, 
but today she wasn't sure it was possible. 

"Michael," she said, "I don't think I can ... My break is at two...." 

"Can you get your replacement down here earlier?" 

Against her better judgment Cheri surrendered to the aching in her crotch. 
"I'll try...." 

"See, I'm running late." He said nothing more, Michael had never really been 
long on words, but for an electric instant he placed his hand softly on top 
of hers, nothing more. 

When Carmine came behind the desk to replace her, Cheri practically ran 
through the doors behind her, down the filing cabinet-lined hall to the 
freight elevator. 

Angelo Bandini saw her coming. 

He sat at the battered desk in the service dock bay, sweating into the 
bright red company blazer with the monogrammed "PP" of Portland Plaza on its 
breast pocket, and stared with utter and complete boredom into the three 
tiny black and white televisions of the security camera displays. Some 
squeaking babble was coming over the walkie-talkie on the desk beside him. 

Before him, backed up to the loading dock, were two delivery vans; the 
old-fashioned bulk of a UPS truck and the sleek and shining new colors and 
lines of an Air Express Messenger van. 

The freight elevator opened and a tiny figure hurried across one of the 
monitors. Recognizing the regular visitor, Angelo straightened up, 
unconsciously running the fingers of his right hand through his thinning 
hair. 

Now there was Angelo's idea of a woman, or rather a girl. 

Cheri, breathless and excited, came around the corner into the service bay. 
She slowed her step to a sexy wiggle and then slinked toward Angelo. With a 
sly, conspiratorial smile she said, "Hi, Angelo," and gave him a slight hug 
and a peck on the cheek. "Not a word, remember?" 

"Have I let you down yet?" he said with mock hurt. Damn, what that little 
girl did to Angelo! 

Cheri shook her head, a halo of brilliant white blonde swirling around the 
gestured "No." Then, with another smile she turned and dashed for the Air 
Express van. 

It was several minutes later when Michael's figure flashed across Angelo's 
monitors. "If I had a chick like that," Angelo muttered under his breath, "I 
sure as fuck wouldn't keep her waiting the way that arrogant sonofabitch 
does...." 

Angelo glanced up and Michael gave him a cocksure smile as he walked past 
him. Angelo responded with a nod, and then Michael disappeared into the back 
of the van. It was for that fox Cheri that Angelo even bothered keeping a 
lookout, it sure wasn't for that arrogant shit that she liked to fuck most 
mornings. Well, even if Angelo didn't have youth or looks on that bastard, 
there was one thing that that ass-hole didn't know about.... 

Cheri had made a space for them amid the packages, a blanket Michael kept 
handy spread out on the van's floor. Michael's first view of her would have 
taken any man's breath away. She had pulled her panties off and hiked her 
dress up around her lush blushing pink hips. She lay spread-eagled on the 
floor of the van, propped up on her elbows. Fishnet white hose, lacy 
garters, and a beautiful snatch of dark brown, the strands of hair arranged 
prettily around her pussycrack, awaited him like some incredible Christmas 
present inside of the van. 

Michael took one long, lingering look at the vision on the floor of the van, 
then unbuckled his belt and dropped his drawers. Cheri swallowed and her 
temperature felt like it went up ten degrees as she saw Michael standing 
there. His big, youthful cock angled out, almost hard, from the scramble of 
blonde hair at his crotch. Michael stood there for a long moment. He took 
his prick in his hand and frigged it a few times, hardening it, preparing it 
for Cheri. Then he lowered himself to the floor of the van and walking on 
his knees across the blanket he came up between her legs. He bent down and 
ran kisses first up her hot thighs, nuzzling his face into that dark, 
fragrant muff, pressing his nose and his mouth into the soft wetness of her 
pussycrack. Then he reached up and slid down the bodice of Cheri's low-cut 
dress, her tits dawning above the cups like two big moons. Her nipples 
popped out pearly pink and big, the coloration of the silver dollar-sized 
aureoles shading imperceptibly into the firm flesh that surrounded them. Her 
nipple spikes were erect and bobbing, prettily clefted at the ends. 

Michael's mouth found her nipples and kissed the surrounding coins of pink 
until they dimpled. He sucked and pulled at her nipples with his teeth while 
Cheri's fingers worked overtime on his stiff, quivering rod, the foreskin 
pulled back to expose the bloated purplish bulb of his cockhead. She lay 
down flat, and with her hand guided his quickly swelling prick into the wet, 
splayed salmon of her pussylips. Michael gasped as his prick slid into 
Cheri's cunt channel, and he ran his tongue through the deep valley of her 
chest, up her throat, to fix like a hungry parasite on her open mouth. 

Cheri pulled her mouth away from his, gasping. "Remember, Michael; no marks, 
no hickeys, or anything like that...." 

Michael grunted an affirmative and then clamped his mouth back on Cheri's. 
Their tongues wrestled hotly and wetly as Michael slowly probed her, 
grinding his prick into her crotch, making Cheri purr with pleasure and the 
van rock back and forth on its wheels. 

Michael knew that they didn't have a lot of time, so he made quick, sweet 
work of fucking Cheri. He drove his prick into her tight pussy just as hard 
as he could, while his fingers scrabbled and flailed over her firm tits, 
sucking up as much sensation as he could through his fingertips. He slammed 
his pelvic bone against hers, arching and angling his cock to achieve the 
maximum sensation, swirling it into her, withdrawing it almost all the way 
out to linger at the door to her pussy, to taste the cool air there, then to 
slide home again and again. Cheri was whimpering out her pleasure and 
bucking her hips frantically. Her kisses were frantic, too, her fingers 
clawing at his sweaty ass-cheeks, descending to friction and dawdle at the 
hairy perimeter of Michael's ass-hole. 

He pumped and rammed into her, his breaths coming like a rapidly 
accelerating freight train, huffing and chuffing and pile driving his boner 
into Cheri's hot, humid hole until, finally, all there was, was the wet 
pivot of cunt and cock slamming against each other, the mixing of blonde and 
brown fur, the thoughtless final strokes as Michael went gasping over the 
edge. 

Shuddering and spasming Michael arched back and let splatter his hot jism to 
rocket into Cheri's grasping cunt. He continued to pump, draining the dregs 
of his juice into her, unwilling to stop, unwilling to surrender those final 
moments of bliss. 

He kissed her sweat-moistened hairline, her eyes, whispering endearments 
that he almost meant in her ear. Slowly he rose and ran his hands down the 
length of her body, feasting his fingers, his eyes a final time for that 
day. Still woozy from his orgasm Michael held a package-restraining bar and 
pulled himself to his feet. Without removing his eyes from Cheri's 
sweat-plastered cunt, his cum still dribbling out of his rapidly-softening 
cock, he reached down and pulled up his uniform shorts. 

Michael took one deep breath, then turned, picked up his electronic 
clipboard, noted his next assignment and slipped out of the van without 
uttering a word. 

Shit, that was the way it always went with Michael, Cheri thought a little 
sadly. It was wonderful while it lasted, but it always turned out to be 
disappointing. She was still dizzy from that whirlwind of a screw as she 
slipped her panties back on and stood up, slipping her tits back into their 
restraining bra cups. 

"Maybe he can get off that fast, but I can't...." she said to herself 
peevishly. She was not looking forward to returning to her desk unsatisfied. 

A moment later a gorgeously disheveled Cheri stepped out of the van, still 
adjusting her clothes, patting at her hair to deal with loose strands. 

Angelo was sitting on the edge of his desk when she emerged. He slipped off 
the edge of the desk, standing with it behind him, sucking in his stomach to 
deal with his slight spare tire. Cheri saw him, and then their eyes met. She 
turned on a smile that, to Angelo, looked like it had ten thousand volts 
backing it up, and she floated toward him. Blonde hair floated around her 
radiant face and she was smiling a smile that only lovers think they know. 
With a start Angelo realized that wasn't the look of a sexual afterglow, 
that was the look of a broad that was hot to trot! Whatever had happened, it 
didn't look like that shitbrain Blade had given her enough of it. Angelo 
hoped against hope that she was going to give him the chance to. 

Cheri had to admit she was a little confused. Michael could deliver just 
about the most fantastic quickie in the world, and just looking at him drove 
her nuts with desire, but that damned three to five minute shit was driving 
her insane! She just couldn't get her rocks off, if chicks got their rocks 
off, in that short of a period of time. If it was so fucking wonderful, like 
he said, how come it couldn't last a little longer than a fucking top forty 
song? Oh, well, there was always Bob! That was probably the reason she was 
particularly horny this morning. Bob, out of town for a week on an 
assignment, hadn't been there to service her when she needed it at night. 
And then she noticed Angelo, and glanced over at him. He had just slipped 
off the corner of the desk. He looked so funny, mouth half-open, obviously 
getting off on the look of a woman who had just been hit by a speeding fuck 
machine! Angelo, she thought sweetly, that sexy Sicilian ... Angelo! 

The thought hit her like a revelation from the Pope and she sucked her 
breath in with the inspiration. Suddenly those fingers of heat were again 
crawling through her pussy, moving upwards and making her nipples go all 
sensitive.... 

She approached Angelo and then put her hands lightly on his shoulders. Hey, 
Angelo wasn't that bad ... Maybe he was a family man, and maybe he was 
getting a bit thick around the middle, but Cheri bet that that man was an 
animal when it came to bed! 

"I think you need a kiss," she said, "to keep those sexy lips sealed...." 
Angelo couldn't have been more delighted as their lips met, as her tongue 
probed wetly out to wrestle with his, and then he was slightly startled as 
he felt her hand crawling down to come to rest over the half-hard prick 
embedded in the crotch of his work pants. Cheri squeezed the thick, gristly 
tube of Angelo's prick through his trousers and felt it start to harden in 
her talented fingertips. With lips still locked onto his she slid the zipper 
down and then fished into his underwear to draw forth his cock. Angelo's 
dong was getting harder by the second, pulsing and jerking in anticipation 
as she cradled it in her fingers. Shit! It was a big mother-fucker, thick 
and laced with purplish veins, the big, purplish head looking like it was 
ready to lunge out and bite her on the cunt! 

"Shit, little girl, you can't do that in here!" Angelo bleated, his face 
turning as red as his uniform blazer. 

"Nonsense," Cheri said, her tone not unlike the one she employed in her 
secretarial duties to calm distraught male clients, "you keep your eyes 
glued to the little screens and I'll do the rest...." 

Then Cheri went down on her knees, looking almost worshipful as she held 
Angelo's prick in her hand and cupped his hairy, taut balls with the other 
one. The big purplish head of his dong glistened, staring at her with its 
single eye, the faintest trace of the jism to come smeared across the blunt 
snout end. Cheri worked Angelo's hot, throbbing balls with her gentle 
fingertips, and at the same time slowly slid her mouth over the head of his 
dick. To Angelo it felt like he was sliding a sizzling poker into a pool of 
cool cream. Angelo started to slowly pump his ass and hips, using Cheri's 
lips as a hungry cunt, sliding it deep into her mouth, all the way to the 
back of her welcoming throat. 

Angelo tried to reach into her dress, to pull out one of those fabulous jugs 
that he had dreamed about for so long, but Cheri mumbled around his 
dickhead, "No, darling. Keep your eyes on those screens. You don't want us 
both fired, do you?" 

Angelo just kept plunging that rod deep into her throat, savoring the 
feeling, savoring the look of Cheri's lips distended around it, sucking away 
at it to beat the band. He slid his fingers into her hair, using his hands 
to lever her mouth harder over his dong, driving it in and out with 
increasing rapidity, his breathing speeding as he drove his boner in and out 
between her lips. Driving his prick harder and harder, he grunted his 
pleasure, bringing himself closer and closer to that moment when.... 

Then, suddenly, Angelo was arching, stiffening, gasping out his pleasure. 
Cheri was squeezing his balls, milking them, and then it felt like Angelo's 
cock was swelling within her mouth and he was rocking and bellowing with the 
bliss of his cum. Great gouts of his juice rocketed hot into her mouth, 
dashing over her lips and teeth to dribble down her chin. She took a moment 
to Hoover out the last of his juice from his prick, swallowing it with 
relish, pulling back to scour the shining head of his prick with her tongue. 

She stood up and stretched, her hand gently massaging his shrinking dick. 
With her other hand she wiped the dribble of cum from her face. Then she 
stood up and kissed Angelo on the cheek, gave his dick one last parting 
squeeze, and turned to walk back to the service elevator. 

Well, she hadn't had the opportunity to cum with Angelo, either, but she did 
feel a little relief. Besides, she was going to be seeing Bob tonight, and 
maybe that would afford her the kind of release she was just aching for.... 

 II 

Cheri was again back at her desk and ready to return to her secretarial 
duties, her hair brushed into glossy platinum waves, putting the finishing 
touches to her makeup with a tiny compact and puff. Well, it wasn't perhaps 
the face she would have chosen if she could have had any one in the world, 
she thought, looking at the woman reflected in the small, round mirror, but 
at least the men didn't seem to have any complaints. Oh, sure, she might 
have been a little cuter if her nose took a slight upward lilt, and she 
would have preferred it if her blonde hair hadn't have by necessity come 
from a bottle, but all in all she thought she had gotten a pretty decent 
shake when they gave out looks. 

Cheri heard muffled conversation coming from the door behind her, and she 
got her compact into the purse underneath her desk just as the lawyer and 
his client exited the inner offices. 

"Just leave everything in my hands, Mr. Monte," William St. John Kuhlman 
said, smiling cheesily, leading the other man out of his sanctum, "and if 
any of those shysters that are representing your wife call you up again, 
just hang up, or better yet, tell them to go fuck themselves, if you'll 
pardon my French. If you're sure you can find witnesses that are willing to 
testify that Mrs. Monte was seeing this ... this Mr. Trimble ... who works 
at the health spa ... then we should be able to hold our own when it comes 
to an adjudication of the dividing up of. 

"The spoils?" Al Monte said, wincing, "The loot?" He looked back at the 
lawyer to get his answer. 

"Your assets, I mean to say." Kuhlman led Monte past Cheri's desk, but it 
seemed like Al Monte's eyes were only willing to follow under protest. Al 
Monte had wanted to get at least one more eyeshot of the pretty blonde that 
he had seen moments before sitting behind the desk, and all through the 
negotiations in the office with the lawyer he had been trying to come up 
with a battle plan for getting the young woman to go out with him. 

Kuhlman paused, looked at Monte, then looked at Cheri. "I see you've met our 
secretary, Ms. Hall," the lawyer smirked, his lip turning upward in a queer 
tick. "She's an angel, an absolute angel, but," Kuhlman said, not even 
attempting to keep the remark from Cheri, "You can't imagine how many-times 
I've tried to get her to spread those angelic wings for me without any 
success ... Every man that comes in here seems to think that our Cheri might 
be available. I wonder why that is?" I know for sure that she's never been 
willing to put out any of that sweet stuff for me!" 

"If she's so fucking available," Monte said, "then how come you've never 
gotten anywhere with her, like you said, Kuhlman? You sure that's not just 
some wishful thinking on your part?" 

Cheri appreciated the chivalrous defense, even if it was coming from Monte, 
who wasn't exactly the kind of guy she would choose if she was in the market 
for Sir Galahads. "Thank you, Mr. Monte," Cheri said, turning away from both 
of them to open up an appointment book and to make some corrections in it. 

When Kuhlman returned from escorting Monte to the elevator he paused by 
Cheri's desk. "Why, Ms. Hall," he said, his tone dripping with superiority 
and condescension, "I thought you might appreciate me, well, playing you up 
to one of our clients, Mr. Monte. One of our rich clients...." 

Cheri raised her eyes from the appointment book, and they met Kuhlman's with 
an impact that gave him a start. Somehow the warm, oceanic blue-green had 
seemed to take on the characteristic of icy jade over the past few minutes. 
"I can get my own dates, thank you, Mr. Kuhlman. Besides, I would have 
thought that Monte was more your type...." 

Kuhlman's face was expressionless, but his complexion was gradually turning 
livid. He stood for a long moment, his face totally unmoving, then his lip 
made its characteristic nervous tick. Without a word he turned and departed 
through the door to the inner offices. 

Cheri chuckled, glad to have scored one on the despised Kuhlman, to get him 
back for all of the gallons of bullshit that he had laid on her during her 
otherwise pleasant employment at Giacomini, Jones and Zarkov, and then she 
heard someone else chuckling, as well. 

The tall woman approaching did not seem to wear the mantle of femininity 
with complete ease. Her face was beautiful, almost too beautiful for the 
severe style of clothing and hair that she favored. Her dark brunette hair, 
so dark that it verged on black, was pulled back tightly from a widow-peaked 
forehead, emphasizing her large, dark brown eyes and high cheekbones. Her 
chuckle provoked the barest sneer from her lips, a sneer that Cheri had seen 
before and knew to say that men were the lowest creatures on Earth, lower by 
far than worms. The woman was dressed in a crisply-tailored business suit 
with an intricate and expensive ebony cameo clasped at the collar of her 
unfrilled white blouse. In her hand was a monogrammed alligator briefcase, 
befitting her profession as a lawyer. Make no mistake, the woman that was 
standing in front of her was beautiful, but with a beauty that almost 
reached a harshness of perfection, jarring the viewer's eye rather than 
pleasing it. 

"Nice going with that fucking slime Kuhlman...." she laughed icily, placing 
her alligator briefcase on the floor beside Cheri's desk. "That prick! When 
is he going to quit coming on to you, anyway? I should have thought that you 
had made it clear to him by now that you think he's a piece of shit! Hell, 
everybody does, including his clients! You notice that? And you should hear 
the kind of bullshit he--likes to sling about you when you're not 
around...." 

Cheri's brow puckered with this new concern. "He what? That sonofabitch! 
Tell me what he's been saying, Veronica...." 

"Nothing, really," the lawyer said, "just trying to stir up shit with the 
other lawyers in the office. A bunch of bullshit about how you got hired for 
your looks and not for your typing speed or your ability to take dictation, 
just trivial fucking crap like that. Not to worry, though; you know as well 
as I do that everyone else hates that sonofabitch just like you and I, and 
they know that you're the best receptionist that this firm has ever had. The 
old man; Giacomini, that is, says this fucking place would fall apart 
without you! Christ, he'd fire Kuhlman before he ever thought of getting rid 
of you, love. 

"He said that?" Well," she said grimly, still heated over Kuhlman, "I'm glad 
to have his ... and your ... vote of confidence, anyway." 

Veronica smiled, and then she was the second person that day to lean over 
and place her hand on Cheri's in a gesture of reassurance. 

"Yeah, kid," she said, "you've got my vote. And if you put some arsenic in 
that bastard Kuhlman's coffee, I'll defend you in court for free." Both 
women shared a chuckle. 

"By the way, I meant to ask you ... How is your painting coming along? I 
really liked those abstract studies you showed me a few weeks back...." 

Cheri had to pause for a moment. It took a second to turn her thoughts away 
from the concerns of business backbiting and toward acrylic paints and 
brushes. "Not all that great, I have to admit," she said, "I told you I have 
a couple of paintings being exhibited at the frame shop near my house, 
didn't I? Well, I haven't sold anything lately, which is the main thing that 
I need to have happen. What bothers me is, I just can't seem to get the 
human figure right ... I've tried and I've tried but my compositions with 
people always end up looking a little stiff...." 

"Really?" Veronica said. "The human figure? Why didn't you say something 
about that before? That's my specialty! Before I went to law school I spent 
a couple of summers studying art in Paris, and they gave us hours and hours 
of figure studies! Give me a nice nude and I'll stroke that brush right 
along with the best of them! Listen, what are you doing tonight, anyway? 
I've got a legal brief I really should be fucking around with, but if you're 
free I could come over and give you some private tutoring. How does that 
sound, Cheri?" 

Cheri paused for a second. "You'd help me out with my figures? Really? That 
sounds great ... Bob is out of town on an assignment, taking some shots of 
the political convention, so he'll be out of our hair ... What would you say 
to eight o'clock?" 

"It's a date," Veronica said. She bent over and picked up her briefcase. 
"Tonight, then." She smiled at Cheri, and then walked out of the room. 

Cheri could not help but watching Veronica's ass as it fluxed in the tight 
suit as she exited. 

If I were a lez, she thought, that ass of Veronica's would be mighty 
enticing ... Cheri paused for a moment, thinking. Hell, who's to say that 
I'm not? It's not like the thought never occurred to me or that a chick 
never turned me on! Hell, the shrinks all say that every woman has a little 
man in her, every guy a part of him that thinks like a chick. Maybe I just 
work hard to keep those thoughts down! Now, Veronica, on the other hand ... 
Well, I've heard rumors that she'll take a wet pussy over a hard cock, any 
day. So what if she is butch? Does it matter? There have been a few times 
when I thought she was coming on to me, but I never really knew how to react 
... What if, say, she put the make on me when Bob was away? How would I 
respond to that? Would I go along with it? Would I enjoy it? Now that's a 
question! And would there be anything to lose, after all, if I went ahead 
and let her fuck my brains out? Probably not! 

Just thinking about the prospect of fucking another woman was making Cheri 
get on edge. She wasn't sure if that tense electric feeling was nerves, or 
if those kind of thoughts really did turn her on! If Veronica did put a move 
on her she would probably.... 

Well, there had been that time with her housemate Betty ... Cheri sure as 
fuck knew how she had reacted then! It had happened a year or so ago, when 
they had first moved into the big Victorian-style house outside of town. It 
had been an exciting time and they had both been so proud, so fucking 
excited about moving into that house! It had started off damn innocently, 
and it had progressed from there until.... 

Betty and she had only been living in the house for two days and that had 
been the first opportunity since moving to sit down, have a glass of wine, 
and to relax. They had been talking about their boyfriends, as they often 
did, and that subject had naturally progressed to the topic of sex and what 
kind of lays their guys were. Both of them were willing to be frank about 
their experiences, and that frankness, of itself, had been a kind of 
turn-on. They had both admitted that, as far as sexual technique went, there 
were a few things about the way their boyfriends performed that they might 
change if given the chance. Maybe the wine coolers they were drinking had 
had something to do with it, but both of them were feeling quite adventurous 
after a while, and a little playful, too. 

"You say that Jerry--likes your titties, huh?" Cheri said, smiling, leading 
Betty onward. "Well, how much does he like them?" 

"Well," Betty said, " he said he does, but then you know how guys are ... 
They'll say just fucking anything to talk you into the sack. I guess my tits 
aren't all that small, after all...." Betty slowly opened the buttons of the 
shirt she was wearing, one by one, and then peeled her shirt off, showing 
off her tits to the other woman. Cheri had never seen her tits naked before, 
only catching an occasional glimpse of them when Betty wandered around the 
house in sheer pajamas. Betty took her fingers and massaged her breasts, 
rubbing the nipples, making the tips of them visibily harden and stand up. 
"They're not all that small, are they, Cheri?" 

Actually her tits were quite small, but not unattractive. Their outstanding 
features were her literally huge nipples. They must have been the size of 
tin can lids, and were colored a sweet brownish-honey that gradually faded 
into the surrounding flesh color at the edges. 

"Actually, Betty," Cheri said, "you have very nice-looking tits. I'm not 
going to kid you and tell you that they're huge, but they're pretty as 
hell...." 

Betty tweaked her nipples with her fingertips, making the outer edges of the 
aureoles pucker. 

"You really, truly think so? Jerry plays a little rough with my nips, you 
know. They're a lot more sensitive than he realizes, and that biting and 
pinching stuff can be a little much if he gets carried away while we're 
screwing." 

Cheri couldn't take her eyes off of those tits, off of those big nipples. In 
the spirit of participation, Cheri slipped off her tanktop to reveal the big 
double mounds that lay beneath it. 

"What I want to know," Cheri said, "is do my tits sag too much? Sure they're 
big, but sometimes I worry about that...." 

"Sag? Are you kidding? Shit, Cheri, you've got some real skinmag-ranking 
boobs there, girl! You could be a centerfold in any stroke-book I ever ran 
across!" Betty reached out and, without thinking about it, ran her fingertip 
around the perimeter of Cheri's big pink nipple, watching the edge of it 
dimple and Cheri shiver with a little wave of pleasure. "I'll bet Bob just 
loves those big knockers of yours...." 

"Well," Cheri said, "Like you said, guys will say anything just so long as 
they can get their rocks off. Yeah, he says he--likes them, I just hope he's 
telling the truth! I know what you mean about guys being rough with your 
nipples, too. They just don't know quite how delicate the little things 
are...." 

"Tell me," Betty said, still sitting across from Cheri with her shirt off, 
"is Bob a pretty uninhibited lover? Jerry is, but frankly, I think he gets 
off a lot more from me giving him blowjobs than he does from eating out my 
pussy. You know what I mean? I mean, honestly, he kind of--likes to be 
serviced, the lazy bastard!" 

"Tell me about it!" Cheri laughed. "And, you know, I don't think most guys 
really know what it takes to take a chick all the way ... You know, to give 
her an orgasm ... Sure, Bob does know where my clitoris is, but what I want 
to know is, does he know what it's for? Hell, I'm thinking about buying him 
some sex manuals for Christmas, just to see if they improve his 
performance!" 

And that was when Betty's fingers snaked out and, as naturally as anything, 
began to rub Cheri's inner thigh with a slow, reassuring stroke. 

"Yeah," Betty said. "I'm not even sure Jerry has even heard of a clit! At 
least he doesn't act like it! He's always asking me whether I came after 
he's pooped out on screwing me and blown his wad up inside me, and I ... 
Well, you know, I sometimes lie about it ... Sometimes, just so he won't 
feel hurt, I tell him I have when I really haven't. I don't think there's 
really anything wrong with doing that, do you? And then, I've just got to 
tell you this, later on in the evening I'll slip into the bathroom and pull 
out one of those mags with the naked bodybuilders I keep underneath the 
bathroom sink, and finger myself. I just get so frustrated sometimes. 

Without even thinking about it, Cheri's fingers had found Betty's pussy and 
were gently stroking. She wasn't sure if it was her imagination, but it 
seemed like the denim-covered mound had heated up considerably since her 
fingers had first found it and begun to touch it. 

"I know exactly what you mean, Betty ... Sometimes I think that I'm the only 
one who really knows what turns me on, or maybe another chick might, but 
then, I've never really had the opportunity to find out about that.... 

"I wonder...." Betty mused, and Cheri noticed that the other woman's hips 
were pivoting rhythmically as she sat next to her on the sofa and rubbed her 
pussy through the denim folds of her pants. And that was all it took to 
drive Cheri over the edge. 

"Let me see if I know what turns another woman on...." Cheri said, and then 
she leaned over and began to unbutton the single brass button on Betty's 
jeans. Cheri lowered the zipper of Betty's jeans, and then the other woman 
lifted her ass off the sofa, arching her tits so that they angled 
beautifully ceilingward, as she slid the pants down her legs and below her 
knees. Betty's auburn-brown pussy looked beautiful as she sat there, and she 
spread her legs wider to give Cheri a better view, massaging her wet crack, 
using her fingers to rearrange the fur. That moment, suddenly, Cheri 
realized what she was doing, and it startled her. She was right at the edge 
of making love to another woman! That was something she had never done 
before, and had really hardly ever considered before! That was something 
that only lesbos did! Still, Betty's exposed crotch did look awfully 
inviting, especially the way she was spreading her legs to show it to even 
better advantage, to show off the shadowed depths of her slit. Cheri forced 
back in her mind any thought that what she might be doing wasn't right, and 
then she brought her face down to Betty's cunt. She nibbled and kissed 
Betty's hot inner thighs, licking them, smelling the faintly animalistic 
musk of Betty's crotch, and the other woman arched back, making little 
sounds of satisfaction and coaxing. Betty certainly didn't seem to be 
showing any qualms about having her pussy eaten out by another broad! 

"Mmmmm...." Betty said, "That's sure as hell something I don't get enough of 
from Jerry...." 

Cheri took that as encouragement and continued to kiss Betty's hot, blushing 
thighs and then she brought her fingers to Betty's pussy. She lifted her 
head to look and then, using her fingertips, spread the little hair-hidden 
petals of her pussy, exposing the glistening salmon color of the interior. 
She nuzzled her face, dipping her mouth into the wet petals of the other 
woman's pussy, extending her tongue, pressing her face into, and dragging it 
up and down the length of the pink slash as Betty wove her finger's into 
Cheri's hair and forced her face harder downward, to grind into Betty's hot 
pussy. Cheri wrapped her hands around Betty's big and shapely ass-cheeks, 
squeezing them, molding them in her fingertips, and ground her mouth, her 
teeth into Betty's crotch while she gasped and bucked her cunt up and down 
into the other woman's willing face. 

"Oh, fuckin' Cheri! Oh, fuckin' do me, baby...." she moaned, using her hands 
to force the other woman's face harder into her snatch, to grind it into her 
clit and the sensitive, wet folds of her pussy. Cheri kept working at 
Betty's hairy wet puss with a vengeance, shifting her attack to Betty's 
enflamed little rosebud of a clit, sucking and dabbling and chewing until 
Betty was on the edge of screaming and her whole ass was bucking and 
palpitating. Betty could no longer hold herself back. Her hands wildly 
scrabbled at Cheri's jeans, found the snap and undid them, then dragged the 
pants over her wide hips, exposing the sweet inverted triangle of Cheri's 
dark crotch. Betty leaned back on the couch and Cheri swung her leg across 
her. Betty had a hell of a view of Cheri's pussy and ass, a view she had 
never had of a woman outside of the shots she had seen in some of the 
raunchier men's magazines, of the dark cleft of her pussy, of the tiny 
puckered asterisk of Cheri's anus. Both women plunged their mouths to each 
other's cunts, going crazy with licking and chewing and slavering, bucking 
their hips to drive the humid tangles of their pussies into each other's 
faces. They fell into a hard-driving, pounding rhythm as they ate out each 
other's pussies, then got wilder and dipped their mouths lower to start to 
eat out each other's asses. That was something that even their boyfriends 
didn't do a hell of a lot of! Cheri paused for a second, staring at the 
other woman's ass-hole, not really sure whether she wanted to bring her 
mouth to it, but then she could no longer resist its invitation. Cheri's 
tongue was dashing and chewing the puckered perimeter of Betty's A-hole, and 
the other woman was just gargling out her moans of joy into Cheri's muffling 
twat. Betty spread Cheri's ass-cheeks with her hands and burrowed her mouth 
into the other woman's ass, thrusting her tongue hard and wet, dodging up 
the tight channel. Cheri decided to escalate the action even more and thrust 
her fingers hard up Betty's cunt, driving them deep into the dripping petals 
of Betty's cunt, using them more skillfully than she thought a man would 
ever know how, ramming and driving them hard, harder, hardest while her 
friend egged her on. They knew that their cunts were going to be sore in the 
morning from all of this hard banging, but they knew as well that it was 
going to fucking be worth it! Cheri just kept ramming those fingers while 
Betty continued to eat and suck and chew like a madwoman at her friend's 
crotch, at her ass, and she drove her fingers deep into Betty's lathered 
cunt until, finally, she could stand it no more and she reared her ass up 
vertically and screamed out her joy, her legs and pussy trembling and 
palpitating and jerking with her orgasm. Somehow that orgasm seemed 
contagious as its waves of fire split Betty's brain in half, because Cheri 
caught it, too. It started out with a small point of fire burning into her 
pussy and spread until great fingers of it were raping her pussy, her ass, 
her breasts, and she was screaming her guts out from the joy of it. 

Both of the women's orgasms had hardly subsided when they heard the car 
entering the driveway. 

Cheri's eyes widened: "It's fucking Bob!" she said. She ran over to the 
window to confirm that it was her boyfriend, and at that moment saw him 
getting out of his car and start to walk up the short path to the house. He 
was just sauntering along, as unconcerned as you please. Shit, how would he 
react if he walked in on his girlfriend and her best friend fucking the shit 
out of each other? By the time her boyfriend had entered the house they were 
both fully dressed and puttering in the kitchen, if looking just a tad 
rumpled, still undecided on what they were going to prepare for dinner. Bob 
was never the wiser. 

She and Betty had never made love to each other again, even though the 
thought had crossed Cheri's mind many times as she saw Betty wandering 
around the house practically nude, looking deliciously fuck-able. The 
subject had simply never come up between the two women. But there was still 
an unshakeable bond of love between the women, of that Cheri was certain. 
Cheri wasn't quite sure why they had never had sex again, after that initial 
pussy-eating incident-maybe the moment was never quite right, or maybe they 
were both a little embarrassed that it had happened in the first place-or 
maybe they were afraid that they would like it too much and it would turn 
into a regular thing, even an obsession. Whatever the reason, the girls 
chose to never mention it again. 

In any case, Cheri knew that she liked guys a lot, and she didn't expect 
that would, could ever change. She knew with every fiber of her being that 
she was a woman ... one hell of a head-turning ultra-feminine knockout, as 
it just so happened! She just loved to turn men wild with her body, and then 
having their cocks deep inside of her and creaming, deep and throbbing and 
hot and hard! She loved dicks and balls, loved holding them, kissing them, 
sucking them, licking them, caressing them as they grew in size, larger and 
larger, until the guys were begging her to let them fire in her pussy or her 
mouth or her ass-hole, and she loved the taste of hot sperm as it splattered 
in sticky gouts all over her teeth and tongue and throat. 

With a start Cheri realized she had gotten lost in her fantasy. Then it 
dawned on her where she was. She was still in the business office of her 
firm, still sitting at her desk. Luckily no one besides her was in the 
office. She had been lost in her reverie about Betty and had forgotten 
entirely where she was! A quick glance at the little clock on the desk told 
her it was a quarter after five, after quitting time, and then she glanced 
down to where her hand was ... in a most embarrassing position, namely 
between her legs! All the while she had been daydreaming about that 
cunt-eating session with Betty, she had been fingering her twat through the 
fabric of her dress! Shit, her cunt was steaming, and felt all squishy 
inside! Quickly Cheri extracted the offending member from her hot mound, and 
stood up. She straightened her dress, grabbed her purse from under the desk, 
slapped some buttons putting the phones on night service, and then headed 
for the elevators just as fast as her long, slim legs would carry her. 

 III 

Hillsboro IS a sleepy little community set amid rambling green hills just 
outside of Portland, Oregon. It is a quaint mix of tiny Victorian homes and 
rambling ranch tract developments, antique shops in turn-of-the century 
storefronts, and modern shopping malls. For a little over a year Cheri and 
Betty had shared a two-story pink and white painted Victorian house that was 
really much larger than they needed, but appealed to both of their artistic 
sensibilities. It consisted of a remodeled kitchen, a dining room with 
stained glass windows and leaded glass oak hutches, a parlor and a living 
room, both with fireplaces, four bedrooms a small, round cupola-like room 
upstairs, and a porch swing. Don't forget the porch swing; Cheri had 
insisted on that. 

Each girl had her own bedroom and Cheri, the budding artist eager to escape 
from the humdrum existence of being a secretary, used the round room with 
its magnificent view of the forested hills as an art studio. One room was 
kept as a spare bedroom for guests, most notably Bob, Cheri's photographer 
boyfriend, while the fourth room was a general catchall that housed Cheri's 
art supplies and abandoned paintings. It also stored Betty's huge collection 
of teddy bears, that is the part of the collection that wasn't on display 
about the rest of the house. If you were a guy that was visiting the girls 
and you had some interest in getting into Betty's pants, you never joked 
about her teddy bears! 

Cheri pulled her Volkswagen into the short gravel drive beneath the ancient 
elms that stood in front of the house. She loved the elms but hated the rain 
of birdshit that always got deposited on the hood and roof of her car. Bob 
had promised that he would build a carport for her, and she tried to think 
of a way she could get him to hurry up with the project. Hold back on the 
sex with him? Tell him she wouldn't perform any more blowjobs on him until 
he had started work on the carport? Naw, that was much too crude; that was 
like cutting off your clit to spite your pussy! 

Betty was in the kitchen cooking dinner, one of her exotic Oriental 
experiments, wearing tiger striped panties and nothing else. 

"That you, Cheri? " she said, without turning from the wok full of Chinese 
food she was tending with a spatula, "I sure as hell hope so, considering 
how I'm ... undressed...." 

Cheri leaned in the doorway, crossing her arms in introspection, assessing 
the semi-naked girl cooking at the stove. "Oh, I don't know...." she said, 
"I expect the water man might rather appreciate getting some cooking tips 
from you ... or perhaps offering a tip of his own...." Cheri paused for a 
moment. She could never get over those tits, or rather, those incredibly 
huge nipples of Betty's. Such big nipples placed smack-dab on such small, 
knob-like titties. Christ, if Cheri had nipples like that she could rule the 
world! For a moment she had an inclination to come up behind the other 
woman, to snake her hands up and to take those warm, moldable tits in her 
hands, to fondle them with her fingertips, but she forced the thought down. 
After all, after that first sex encounter she and Betty had put that area of 
their lives on hold, and maybe it was better, more simple that way. If she 
and her housemate did get involved in some rollicking lesbo affair as their 
initial lovemaking had shown that it might turn into, that would make it 
pretty sticky with Bob, wouldn't it? Bob, at various times, had made vague 
intimations about how both of them might enjoy adding a third party-another 
chick, naturally-to their lovemaking, but Cheri had ignored the possibility. 
The problem was, really, that Bob was more possessive than probably even he 
knew, and if anything had developed that indicated that he wasn't the single 
focus of interest, well, Cheri thought he might not enjoy that quite as much 
as he thought. Or maybe, she mused, maybe she had a little streak of that 
self-centeredness in her, too? 

"I'm making plenty of this whatever-it-is with sweet and sour sauce, if 
you'd like some," Betty said. "It may be excellent, it may be lousy, I'm not 
quite sure at this point...." 

"Some of your famous gourmet whatever-it-is, eh? You make a lot of that, 
don't you? I don't think so, Betty; I much prefer your whatchamacallit with 
water chestnuts, now that's really unpredictable...." Cheri responded, 
smiling. "Thanks for the offer, but Veronica, that lawyer from my work-" 

"You mean the bulldyke who always dresses in a suit?" 

Cheri put on a look of mock displeasure. "So she's a dyke ... Hell, I don't 
even know if she is a dyke! Does it matter? She's one of the few people at 
the office who could give a fuck about me...." 

"Hey," Betty said, "Touchy, touchy. Throw a fuck to you, don't you mean? I 
was just making a joke. I could care less if she's a dyke or isn't! Now, you 
were saying...." 

"Anyway, Veronica, the dyke lawyer from my work, is coming over to help me 
out with my figure-drawing. She's really good, actually. If you'd like you 
could sit in...." 

Betty turned and Cheri's eyes followed the bobbing of the other woman's 
tits. "Love to, roomie, but I've got a hot date tonight. It's my boss, at 
work. He's got a degree in French fry-ology, or something, you know? You 
should see this guy;, he's from the Middle East somewhere, probably a closet 
terrorist from his dark good looks ... Anyway, from the way he talks, his 
parents are practically royalty over there. Well, he's unbelievably foxy and 
he looks like he could fuck like a Persian-built jackhammer. We'll be coming 
in late, probably, but if you hear the sound of a jackhammer coming from my 
bedroom...." 

"I get the idea, roomie," Cheri said. "Okay, well, listen, I'm going to go 
upstairs and do a little work, maybe straighten up a little before Victoria 
arrives. If you don't bring the jackhammer home with you, drop into the 
studio and let me know about your trip to the Middle East ... or rather, his 
trip into you ... He does sound interesting. Ask him if he's got any friends 
that moonlight as industrial equipment, I might be interested...." With 
that, Cheri slipped out of the kitchen and headed upstairs. 

* * * 

Being in the studio always gave Cheri a feeling of incredible freedom that 
was unmatched anywhere else. There she felt she could soar, at least in her 
imagination, unlike the way it was at work, chained as she was to a desk for 
eight hours a day. Cheri went over to the easel where her latest painting 
stood, draped, and she pulled the cloth off of the canvas. It was a painting 
of a nude woman, roughly blocked in, features only imperfectly sketched, and 
she lay sprawled across the couch that sat at the other side of the room, 
across from Cheri's easel. Looking at the painting, Cheri frowned. This was, 
without a doubt, the most ambitious painting she had ever done, or 
attempted, anyway. Compared to the nude female figure, her previous 
paintings of local landscapes and out-and-out abstracts had been a snap. She 
had even sold a couple of paintings locally, although at the prices they had 
... not commanded, more like pleaded ... they had practically been given 
away. Now that she thought of it, she had given away a few of the things, 
too! But this painting, a step upward in both style and content, was proving 
to be just as difficult as she had imagined, had feared it might turn out to 
be. The face and the figure were only roughly blocked-in, hazy. Cheri was 
still struggling on getting the positioning of the arms and legs, the 
overall posture of the body right. The problem, undoubtedly, was that she 
was not working from a live model, but rather from a photograph of herself 
that Bob had taken. Somehow she couldn't seem to make the picture come to 
life, to be visually interesting, to create the illusion that you were 
looking at a reclining figure rather than just strokes of paint on a canvas. 
Well, try and try again.... 

Cheri went over to the coat hook near the door, and she reached back to 
fumble with, then unzip the back of her dress. She slid the dress off, 
stepping out of it, and then carefully hung it on the hook. She stepped out 
of her shoes, kicked them to the side, then bent as she slipped off each 
white stocking, hanging them over her dress. She undid the clasp of her bra, 
the kind that hooked in front that she favored, and then slipped off her 
bra. Peeling her bra away from her big knockers, jutting defiantly from her 
chest, had a strangely reassuring sensation to it. She knew that men loved 
her tits and the way they thrust out, practically defying gravity, and that 
pleased her. No underestimating the asset a girls tits are to her, Cheri 
thought, at least if she's got a nice set on her. Now, Betty's tits, 
personally I find them rather a turn-on, but I suppose they would be a 
matter of taste. Some guys had told her that the only kind of tits they 
liked were the big, torpedo-shaped mammaries, the kind she was fortunate 
enough to have. Betty's small boobs, even endowed as they were with those 
gigantic nipples, might not appeal to all guys. Cheri finally removed her 
last garment, her panties, peeling them down past the curly fur of her 
crotch, then off. 

She walked over to the full-length mirror by the door, and assessed her body 
with an artist's eye. Not too bad, not too bad ... She took her big tits in 
her hands, weighing them, lifting them as if she was offering them to the 
girl in the mirror. The girl in the mirror seemed to be pleased with the 
offering and smiled. Cheri rubbed her fingers over the soft, protuberant 
pink cones of her nipples, weaving a bit as she took in the sensation 
through her tits, felt it spreading through the big mounds, felt the heat 
twinging and going lower toward her crotch, turning on a warm longing down 
there. She reached out and let her fingers snake downward, over the firm 
flatness of her belly, then let her fingers slide and toy into the jungle of 
dark, curly hair at her pussy. She rubbed and molded the protuberance of her 
pussy mound, now heating up, and arched her tits, writhed her ass as her 
fingers snuck into the soft clinging wetness of her pussyslips. She dawdled 
her fingers shallowly, sensuously at the bare livid pink rim of her 
pussycrack, and then her fingers dove deeper, dove to the first knuckle, 
twiddling the soft, glistening folds of soft, warm flesh. Cheri's other hand 
was busy, too, working on her tit, on her nipple. She was teasing her nipple 
into erectness, pinching and caressing, each motion of her fingers 
augmenting and making more intense the working of her fingers thrusting into 
her snatch. 

"Okay, Cheri, don't expect me back until...." and then Betty stumbled 
through the unlocked door, swinging it back. Cheri opened her eyes from her 
sexual reverie and looked at Betty, her fingers still wrapped around one 
nipple, the fingers of her other hand thrust into her cunt. "I ... uh...." 
Betty stumbled, and then she frankly stared. Betty's eyes widened and she 
didn't say anything as she looked at the other, nude woman standing before 
her. 

Cheri took her hand off of her tit, dislodged her fingers from her twat. 
"Knock from now on, would you?" she said. 

Betty shook her head. "Sorry, Cheri...." But her eyes seemed to linger 
longer than was necessary on Cheri's twin, bulging tits, on her 
hair-thatched cunt. "Well, we're off...." she said, recovering her poise. 
"Don't wait up...." 

Cheri nodded. Betty smiled, took one last lingering look at Cheri's 
nakedness, and then she closed the door behind her. 

* * * 

Cheri paused mid-stroke with her brush when she heard the sound of the car 
driving up outside. She walked over to the window and looked out, then 
spotted Veronica's silver-blue Porsche parked at the curb and the woman 
opening the door and getting out. She pried free the latch on the window and 
opened it, and as Veronica walked up the driveway she yelled down, telling 
her to come on in. 

Thinking back on it later, Cheri wasn't exactly sure how it had all 
happened. It certainly wasn't something she had planned, or wanted, or even 
considered as a possibility. She had put on her artist's smock ... Cheri 
wasn't quite that liberated that she was going to parade around in the nude 
in front of a chick she didn't know all that well, much less in front of a 
girl whose sexual tastes might include her ... then brought Veronica and a 
bottle of good red wine and two long-stemmed glassed back to the studio. 
Their conversation had started off very light, with a discussion of art 
techniques and the work they had been doing. Veronica had brought her sketch 
book with her and proceeded to thumb through it and show Cheri a number of 
her own rather professional quality sketches, pointing out various ways in 
which she handled shading, the placement of the figure, and the depiction of 
muscular tone. Her work was definately impressive, and Cheri was certain 
that Veronica could help her with her own more stumbling efforts. Bolstered 
by the wine Cheri let Veronica see the painting she was working on, and the 
other woman was kind enough to praise it without being too adulatory, yet 
she was also willing to point out the areas where the composition could be 
improved. Hell, Cheri knew it needed work, and Veronica was right about the 
areas that needed fixing up. That was when when Veronica started talking 
about the limitations of working off of photographs, and offered to pose in 
the nude for Cheri. 

"I'm not shy, are you, Cheri?" Veronica asked. 

Cheri could feel her face heating up from the moment that Veronica had 
suggested it. 

"You're not afraid of what you might do, once you see my glorious body in 
the nude, are you, Cheri?" Veronica laughed. 

Actually, Cheri realized, there had been a kind of unspoken assumption 
between them that Veronica would be willing to pose in the nude for her, or 
at least the possibility had not been ruled out, all along. 

Once Veronica started undressing, things just seemed to start snowballing 
from there. Maybe what Veronica said had some truth to it, Maybe Cheri was a 
little concerned about what might happen if the other woman took off her 
clothes. Cheri wasn't comfortable with the idea of sex with another woman, 
and the reason she wasn't comfortable was not because she had no interest in 
the subject, it was precisely the opposite reason. 

It happened in the same way that the event with Betty had. Unconsciously, 
just seeming to build without either of them really pushing it to happen. 
Cheri watched Veronica undress, took her clothing from her and placed it 
neatly on a nearby table, and as each garment was removed she realized more 
and more that she had always been attracted to the older woman. Veronica's 
frilly blouse came off first, and Cheri's eyes were fixated on what lay 
beneath. Veronica was wearing a very sheer, see-through bra of thin fabric 
that did very little to hide her almost huge tits and the oversized disks of 
her reddish-brown nipples, the tips pointed and spiking through quite 
visibly. She unzipped and stepped out of her skirt and, for the first time, 
Cheri was able to view closer the shape of the woman's full, feminine hips 
that almost begged for a good fucking, the shape of her muscular 
well-aerobicized ass-cheeks underneath the wispy strip of silkiness that was 
her panties. Then Veronica stripped off her bra, unashamed of what lay 
beneath it, and Cheri had to marvel at the pair of tits that sprang free 
from the sheer bra cups, the pair of tits that rivaled her own in beauty, 
exceeded her own in size. They were proportioned differently, she thought. 
In comparison to Cheri's, they were longer, sensual in a different way from 
her own baby pink-capped knockers. They were ... how could she describe it 
... lusty, womanly, even animalistic in their sensuality. 

Veronica had, perhaps, five years on Cheri, and those years had imparted 
something smoldering, hot, terribly sexual to those tits of hers. Cheri 
stared at the big brown eyes of her nipples, fascinated by their dimpled 
size and perfection, the way they perched at the ends of Veronica's big 
tits, the way the spikes angled upward like the spike of a cock angling to 
sink itself into a ready and willing cunt. 

And the women made love. 

At the time it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to do, even 
though Cheri was to have second thoughts about what she did later, to wonder 
about what motivated her to do it in the first place. Their passion, whether 
Cheri had been aware of it or not, had been building, smoldering beneath the 
surface for an awfully long time, and in the setting of Cheri's art studio, 
it erupted. 

They fucked by the soft flickering of candlelight, the shadows revealing, 
concealing their bodies as they moved sinuously together like one body on 
the couch. A thousand erotic paintings appeared and disappeared as the 
women's hands, legs, crawled over each other, touching, molding, caressing. 
They had both had enough wine so that they were completely uninhibited and, 
for Cheri, it was the moment for her to find out all of the pleasures that 
another woman could offer, the pleasures that had always been concealed from 
her by embarrassment at making love to another woman, by the fear of what 
other people might think or say. 

She arched upward, and her mouth met Veronica's sensual, almost cruel mouth. 
She could hear the intake of the other woman's breath as she dodged her 
tongue into hers, almost like a prick seeking out and finding its own wet, 
sucking hole. Their tongues twined like wet, glistening snakes, tasting, 
caressing, sucking, while their hands feasted on each other's beautiful 
bodies, crawling up and down the lengths. Cheri felt like she was completely 
out of control; as if something else was controlling her body as she 
writhed, coiled with the other woman, the shadows swirling, pouring, 
hypnotizing them, intoxicating their senses. 

It was as if there were two cunts and one body as the woman worked each 
other's snatches with their fingers, sliding through the warm, wet folds of 
each other's pussyslices, diving deeper into the hot, simmering interiors, 
diving all the way in to pump and plunge and drive ... to drive them both to 
he edge of their ecstasy. 

Veronica clung to Cheri's body, her mouth affixed to, her tongue swirling 
and lapping at the hard little digit of her nipple, sucking it, chewing it 
as her hand drove three fingers hard into her cunt, rocking her ass with 
each plunge, making her pant as Veronica sustained the blissful, punishing 
strokes. 

Cheri flicked and vibrated her ringers into the depth of Veronica's 
fur-fringed hole, completely aware of where the woman was at, of what it 
would take to take her all the way. 

They fucked each other with their fingers with a hot, sustained fury until 
all of the small sensations of their fucking seemed to add up, to add fire 
to each other, to build until they coaxed forth their boiling orgasms. It 
seemed to build inside both of their bodies simultaneously, rising like a 
flood of sensation behind the gates of their cunts until finally those gates 
burst and both of their bodies were raped with explosive fire, and they 
screamed and gargled out their ecstasy, bucking their bodies together as the 
fingers of sensation ripped through their senses. 

"I had never really expected that to happen," Veronica said, toying her 
finger around the soft edge of the nipple of the other woman lying beside 
her, her eyes fixed on the poignant little cleft at the end of the nipple 
spike. "I had always wanted it to happen, but I had never expected it to ... 
Is this your first experience with a woman? I mean, it doesn't really matter 
to me, but...." 

"Second," Cheri said, "but the last time was quite a while ago. I enjoyed my 
first time, I enjoyed it a great deal, I just don't know why it never 
happened again...." 

And that was when, for the second time that day, Betty walked into Cheri's 
studio and saw something that she wasn't expecting to see. 

It took a second for Betty's eyes to become accustomed to the dim light in 
the studio, but when she saw Cheri and Veronica lying on the couch together, 
twined naked about each other, she froze, disbelieving her eyes. She just 
stood there, looking at the women, her face not betraying what she was 
thinking, and then she said: 

"I got home early." 

Neither of the other two women said anything. 

"I didn't expect...." Even Betty couldn't understand why she was in a sort 
of a state of shock, stunned to see her best friend and a woman together. 
Rapidly she tried to piece together what she was seeing, to understand it. 
But before the understanding arrived, the tears did. 

"You fuckin' sonofabitch! You fucking lesbian whore!" Betty screamed 
shrilly, and then she turned and ran out of the room. 

 IV 

The next morning started out crazy, continued crazy. From practically the 
first moment that Cheri entered the door of the office the phone started to 
ring. Putting the paperwork she needed to do aside as a secondary concern, 
Cheri handled phone calls until eleven, when Michael showed up. 

He came bustling through the elevator door, carrying a couple of packages. 

"Can you get free?" Michael said, obviously in a rush, himself. 

Cheri needed the solace of a nice little fuck to get her morning started 
properly. "Yes, I can. I'll meet you downstairs in five minutes." 

Michael winked, and then all there was for Cheri was the vision of his 
muscular, masculine little ass in those shorts hurrying back to the 
elevator. 

Carmine arrived a few minutes later to take over for Cheri, and then she was 
off, heading for the freight elevator in a rush, eager for the harbor of 
Michael's muscular body. 

She gave Angelo her usual dazzling smile and a wave as she hurried by him, 
and Angelo muttered to himself, "Now there's a broad that is eager to 
fuck...." 

Michael looked up from trying to figure out an illegible address on a 
package, and then he dropped the package to the floor. 

"You can't imagine how much I need this, babe," Michael said, looking at 
Cheri, and before she even had a chance to spread the blanket out on the 
floor, to take her position on the floor, Michael was all over her. 

Shit, she was hungry for it too and didn't object as Michael went right to 
work hiking up her skirt. She might have preferred a little more foreplay, 
but anything was better than nothing as he dragged her panties over her 
full, pale ass and then hurriedly unbuckled his own shorts and pulled them 
down to his knees. What, he was reading nudie mags before he showed up? 
Michael was ready to go! Suddenly his mouth was kissing, licking her neck, 
and she swung around, leaning forward, and gripped the back of the van's 
seat for something to steady herself with. She pivoted around on the floor 
and then she felt Michael's big, hard rod as he dragged it up and down the 
warm cleft of her ass. He spit into his hand and then she felt his fingers 
as they worked the cool spit into her ass, wetting the exterior of her 
ass-hole, plunging a little ways in with a single finger to lubricate the 
channel of her ass. 

"In the...." Cheri began to say, but was silenced as Michael, unheeding, 
brought the snout-end of his pecker up to her ass-hole. With his fingers he 
tried to spread her anus while the hard end of his prick butted at the door 
to her ass-hole. Cheri whimpered with each plunge of Michael's big pecker, 
as it battered without effect at her ass-hole, and then with a single 
burrowing plunge Cheri gasped and jolted and felt the thick tube of 
Michael's bone sink in. It was tight, oh fuck, was it motherfuckin' tight! 

"You like ... You ... Oh, oh fuck!" Michael's words drifted off into 
incoherent moans as he clasped Cheri's ass tightly in his fingers and 
started to plunge his prick in and out of her ass. Damn, it was so tight, 
frictioning at the walls of her ass-hole, that it felt like it was burning 
up from the heat as it worked in and out of her hole! For further 
inspiration Michael reached forward and scrabbled with the buttons on 
Cheri's dress. She helped him by undoing them, and then one of his hands was 
plunged underneath her bra, fondling one of her big tits as it hung 
pendulously down, as his other hand held on to her ass for dear life. 

He started off fast and he kept up fast and furious. Cheri was pretty much 
just along for the ride as Michael pistoned his ass hard and fast, ramming 
his bone in and out of her ass-hole, his fingers grappling into, distorting 
the shape of her nipple with his pinching and pulling and fingering. 

She loved to be fucked up the ass! It wasn't what she wanted for the main 
course every day, but today, for what Cheri termed her a.m. fuck, this was 
perfect. Michael just kept on banging, banging hard, jerking her whole body, 
jogging her big, soft tits with every one of his hard strokes until finally 
Cheri screamed it out: 

"No! No!" And she meant it. She felt his rod, burning into her ass-hole 
channel, seeming to expand as it carried its cargo of steaming sperm through 
it. She felt Michael go all shuddery as he arched and plunged those last few 
frenzied strokes, and then she felt that splash of cum wetting, steaming 
into the depths of her ass. He clung onto her for a while longer, 
whimpering, his fingers still clutching at, working her tit hanging out of 
her bra, still stroking his rapidly deteriorating cock in and out of her 
ass. 

It was over, Cheri thought to herself, fucking over! 

Michael must have sensed that something was lacking, because he did 
something he had never done before. When he had slid forth his prick from 
Cheri's ass, without even pulling up his pants he went down on his knees. 
Spreading her lush ass-cheeks with his fingers Michael pressed his face hard 
into Cheri's ass and began to eat. He swirled his tongue around the edge of 
Cheri's pinkly puckered ass-hole, while Cheri perked up, recovering from the 
sudden loss, and then cooed and clenched her ass with the overwhelming 
sensation that Michael had begun. Shit, maybe there was hope for the 
sonofabitch, yet, and his wham-bam-thank you ma'am style! He thrust tongue 
in, sucking, nibbling, chewing until Cheri was lightheaded from the 
sensation, her legs and thighs trembling. She worked her own nipple with her 
fingertips, sweating as she clenched her ass and tried to coax out the 
orgasm that she knew she was approaching. 

And then it was over yet again. 

Michael stood up and looked at her. His prick looked pretty pathetic, 
hanging there reddened and flaccid between his legs. He hitched up his 
pants, and then in his best strong, silent approach, he turned around and 
exited the van. 

Cheri held back a sob that tried to wrench its way from her throat. She felt 
so useless kneeling there, holding onto the back of the van seat for 
support, her panties a pink scramble down around her ankles. And she knew 
she had to have more! She was desperate to cum! Cheri reached down and slid 
her fingers shallowly into her cunt lips, working her index finger into her 
crotch like a little plow while her thumb molded the rubbery outer lips, 
grazing her little clit with each passage. She worked her fingers hard, 
knuckling her pubic bone and her clit, frictioning hard and wishing it was 
Michael doing it. It didn't take long until her whole body was trembling 
again, and then she gasped, sucking in breaths as the fiery fingers of her 
orgasms wrenched, wrung out her body of its longing ... most of its longing, 
that is. 

Cheri distractedly offered Angelo a kiss and that seemed to satisfy him, but 
he must have noticed something was strange about her. 

"Anything wrong? Did that guy do something ... If he did, why, I'll break 
every bone in his...." 

Angelo was sweet for asking, and obviously quite willing to defend her 
questionable virtue, if the need arose. "No, no, Angelo. There's nothing 
wrong, at all." She didn't mention it to Angelo, but it wasn't something 
Michael had done, it was actually something Michael never did. 

"Look, Angelo," she said, "It's not that big of a fucking deal, it's just 
that that Michael Blade isn't that great of a lover, and...." 

"He's not?" Angelo Bandini said incredulously, hearing what he had wanted to 
hear for a long time.... 

"Naw, he stinks, and I don't even know why I bother with him." Cheri tested 
her words in her mind before she said them. "You're a lot better than he 
is...." She was just saying it to make Angelo feel better, he definately 
deserved a lot more than the occasional blowjob that was all she ever had to 
offer him, but there was something to what she was saying, too. Angelo, 
after all, was considerate, and that was something you could never accuse 
Michael of. 

"Is there anybody around?" she asked. "I really, really need you to do me 
this morning, Angelo. 

Hearing that, Angelo might have even gone for screwing the little beauty if 
there had been someone around! 

"I don't think there is, Cheri, but what did you have in mind?" 

"Behind the desk," Cheri said. "I really do have to have it today, Angelo. I 
have to have it or I'm going to be horny all fucking day...." And that was 
definitely no lie.... 

Damn! And Angelo liked to hear horny women talking that way, too! 

Angelo took a glance at the television screens to confirm that there was no 
one in the vicinity, saw no movement on the little phosphorescent squares, 
and then he turned back to Cheri and let her make her move. Cheri eased his 
big bulk down to the concrete floor, and Angelo was only too willing to lay 
on his back for her. Anytime, baby, anytime.... 

Cheri knelt down beside him, hoping that she wasn't going to get a run in 
her stockings, and then she began to massage the bulge, the rapidly growing 
bulge, in Angelo's work pants. 

She watched Angelo's face, branded by the delicious sensation as she worked 
his cock with her fingers. Then she unzipped his pants and, past his 
underwear, she led Angelo's prick out into the light and the open air. 
Angelo had a hell of a pecker on him, whatever else you wanted to say about 
him! She grasped Angelo's gradually rising bone in her fist and began to 
frig, working his prick into hardness, anticipating the moment when it would 
be hard enough for her to ride it for one good, long joyride. 

It didn't take a fuck of a long time for it to arrive at that state. 

Angelo stared up at Cheri, her body hovering over him as she worked his 
cock, her eyes hooded, sultry with pleasure and anticipation. It was pretty 
obvious that she was badly in need of a fuck, even Angelo could see that, 
and he never claimed to know a fucking thing about broads. He didn't wait 
for a more formal invitation. His hands crawled all over those up-thrust big 
mounds of her tits, feeling them up right through the fabric of her dress, 
and then, disregarding any potential interruption from people passing by, he 
peeled the top of her dress down and finally got a look at her tits. The 
sweetest pair of pink nipples Angelo had ever had the pleasure to witness 
dawned above the top of her dress, each tit capped with a perfect, pink 
spike. He rubbed her nipples like he was a miser handling gold, feeling them 
go hard underneath his palms, and then Cheri was moaning: 

"Fuck me, babe! Oh, fuck me!" 

Angelo Bandine thought he had died and gone to Heaven! Cheri went up on her 
knees and Angelo lifted her dress up above the red silk-covered mound of her 
little pussy. He rubbed his fingers over it in wonderment, still not 
believing what he was touching. Then he took the waistband of her panties 
and pulled them down her beautiful white legs, pulled them over her knees, 
exposing the tangled fur of her crotch, the widening glistening of her 
little red slit. Angelo shoved his finger into her cunt and she writhed, 
whimpering as he worked it into her. He ran his finger up and down the 
wetness of her slash as she moaned and cooed, taking extra care to swizzle 
and to friction her clit with his fingertip. Her thighs were trembling out 
of control, her ass clenching with the pleasure of it of his big finger 
working into her cunt, of his other hand taking its fill of her sensitive 
nipple. 

Cheri swung her leg around, and then burrowing down on Angelo's upstanding 
prick she lowered herself, letting his big prick go cleanly and smoothly 
right up her twat-channel. She gurgled out something crazy and meaningless, 
clasping her naked tits in her own hands and fingers, working the nipples as 
he started sluicing that big boner right up into her grasping cunt. 

Angelo rammed that thing hard, gasping himself, feeling so much differently 
than he did when he was ramming his own wife Louise at home. These young 
girls, it was amazing! They actually liked to fuck, and to suck, too! Now, 
Louise, she acted like it was her duty to lay motionless underneath Angelo 
while he grunted and pumped, except when she could figure out some excuse so 
she could get duty-leave! Cheri kneaded her own tits in her fingers and 
Angelo reached up and worked them at the same time, shoving his prick in and 
out of her, slugging it into her and not even caring about the hard concrete 
his ass was impacting with on every stroke. She hissed and gasped as he sank 
and re-sank his poker into her, and then he lifted her higher as his ass and 
hips went out of control, ramming his slick stick into her dark fur-thatched 
crotch, each shove into her slot evoking a little yelp from her that; by 
this time, Angelo didn't even give a fuck if anyone heard! If it meant his 
fucking job it would be well worth it! 

When Angelo came he gasped, hissing between his teeth, and then he 
practically yodeled, mixing his tortured cries with Cheri's as his 
moon-colored jism rocketed and splattered up into her crotch, mixing with 
all that fabulous, fragrant cunt-juice as she bounced up and down on his 
pole, pounding her pussy onto it to drag out the last of her orgasm, to 
wring out the last, least sensation of it. 

It was almost over before it had begun, but at least now she felt warm, 
woozy, satisfied, and had the vague feeling that she might make it through 
the day. 

As she walked away from Angelo she looked back for a final sight of his 
foolish grin, and to see him still standing where she had left him, staring 
at his hand, still dripping with some of the glistening, lathered cum that 
had slithered out of her. 

Cheri hurried down the hallway, and then found that her screwing hadn't 
entirely saved her from the other concerns of her life. 

Cheri was so distracted, her mind was now a half-pleasant and 
half-unpleasant whirl of imagery of every loony thing that was going on with 
her. Of course there was her encounter with Veronica, not to mention her 
continuing ... well, addiction would be a good word ... to Michael, and, as 
long as she was on the subject, there was the way in which Betty had reacted 
when she had happened in on her and Veronica last night, the way that Betty 
had exploded with emotion, and then, finally, finally, there was the warm 
glow she was still feeling from her quickie with Angelo ... Cheri was in 
such a daze that she didn't even notice Al Monte as his path intersected 
hers going through the lobby of Portland Plaza, and he had to reach out and 
steady her to keep her from bumping into him. 

"You're...." was about the most eloquent greeting that Monte could come up 
with, surprised as he was to encounter the beautiful secretary that he had 
just been thinking about. He tried to frame some words in his mind to say to 
her, but somehow he couldn't find the words, and so just stood there 
looking, well, rather stupid, if the truth be told. 

"Mr. Monte, how are you?" she said, bringing her eyes into focus on the 
somewhat short figure standing before her. Monte thought she was just too 
beautiful. She didn't quite look as cool and perfect as the first time he 
had seen her, there were strands of her hair that were out of place and she 
looked flushed from ... emotion? exertion? But, by god, she still looked 
good enough to eat! 

"I'm ... just ... just fine," he stumbled. "Ms.?...." 

"Pardon me; I didn't even think. Cheri ... Cheri Hall. I guess you have an 
appointment with Mr. Kuhlman?" 

"You know," Monte said, "I guess I do. For a second I was so dazzled there 
by running into you that I didn't know what to think. I've got a better idea 
though, a much better idea. Have you had lunch, yet?" 

Cheri shook her head. 

Monte offered her his arm and she took it. 

* * * 

Cheri had never realized that lunch could be so fucking sensuous. 

"Just...." Al Monte said, levering up an oyster on the half shell to his 
lips, "Just like this....", and then he elevated the shell, angling it to 
release its contents. Cheri watched the moon-colored shellfish and its 
splash of gleaming liquor slide out of the shell and into Monte's waiting 
mouth. Al Monte smiled, almost as if to say, "Just like eating pussy...." 

Cheri lifted a shell to her lips, still hesitant about eating something that 
looked so fucking strange, not to mention still being alive, and then took 
the contents in. She wallowed the oyster over her tongue for a second, 
tasting the delicate saltiness and flavor, and then she swallowed. No, she 
thought, the sensation is not like eating cunt, it's like eating cum! Now, 
that is different! A lunch of eating cum! She nibbled at a piece of French 
bread and realized that, perhaps, her mood was changing from the confused 
dreariness of the morning. 

Monte tried to draw her out and get her to talk about herself, to get into 
Cheri's world. "So, what do you enjoy doing when you're not being the 
perfect secretary?" He actually saw a little smile emerge from those 
beautiful scarlet lips. She lifted another oyster to her lips and Al Monte 
scrutinized her as she let the shellfish slide into that sweet, open mouth. 
Monte indulged himself in thinking about Cheri perhaps kneeling below him, 
eager to take him in. He would have his big, veiny tool clasped in his fist, 
angling the purplish head toward those beautiful, waiting lips. As his 
cockhead touched those pretty lips they would widen, and then he would see 
the glistening of her pink tongue in her mouth, ready to take his big tool 
in, ready to accept a blast of his hot sperm licking across her tongue. 

"I," Cheri said, "well, actually, I like to paint. One of these days I'd 
like to be successful enough to tell the firm of Giacomini, Jones and Zarkov 
to take it up their asses! Actually, everyone there has been pretty good to 
me, it's only that fucking Kuhlman that rides me...." Cheri paused and 
smiled devilishly. "Oops," she said. 

Monte raised his eyebrows in question. 

"My language," Cheri said, "What you must think of me...." 

"I've heard worse," Monte said, "but I've never seen better...." 

Cheri gifted him with another radiant smile. "I've been doing 
impressionistic landscape, but I'm trying to get into painting the 
figure...." 

Monte sipped at his glass of white wine, watching the young woman, watching 
her every gesture and inflection. 

"See, there's something about painting that gives me a sense of freedom. 
Does that sound strange? When I'm painting, I'm totally into my imagination, 
and I feel really free, like I can go and be anything I want. I feel like I 
could fly, if I wanted to...." What she didn't say was that the white wine 
she was sipping was providing a similar sensation. 

"And I ... I ... Paint in the nude." Cheri sat back and smiled, pleased to 
have gotten her secret out. 

Monte took a bite of French bread, then another sip of wine. "In the nude." 

"Yes," Cheri said. 

Al Monte suddenly realized he was getting a hard-on. He shifted his legs to 
accommodate the big stick that was growing in his pants. The idea of Cheri 
walking about her room, or studio or whatever, painting in the nude, was 
turning him on, turning on his fantasies of Cheri's potential availability 
... to him. Not surprisingly. The dress that Cheri was wearing was 
insubstantial enough, made of some silky material, that seeing her naked 
didn't seem like such a big change. Monte had already stared at those big 
tits of hers for almost a half-an-hour, imagining what they would look like 
free of that wisp of fabric, imagining the color, the size of Cheri's 
nipples that were concealed. 

"You're looking for freedom?" Al Monte said. 

The young woman lifted her blue-green eyes to his. "I guess I am...." she 
said. 

"What with the way things are going, I think I'm in need of the same thing. 
I sure as hell haven't had a lot of it, lately, with all of the jacking 
around with the divorce, and all." Monte lifted another oyster to his lips, 
swallowed it, then chased it with wine. "I just decided. This weekend I'm 
going to go to Tahoe. Would you like to join me? We could have a blast, and 
you would be back in town for work, Monday morning." 

Cheri knew, or at least suspected, that the offer consisted of more than 
swimming in the lake and riding around in a convertible. The offer would 
also undoubtedly include screwing Al Monte. In addition to that, it also 
meant standing up Bob, who was going to arrive back in town that night, and 
paying the piper when she did see him again. Bob would, without a doubt, be 
severely pissed.. "You're leaving...." 

"Tomorrow afternoon. Let's say after you get off work. You don't need to 
decide right this moment. Think about it. If you want a weekend in Tahoe, if 
you want me, call me and I'll pick you up after you get off." 

When they had finished lunch, both Monte and Cheri returned to the Portland 
Plaza building, and boarded the elevator together. The elevator was crowded 
and they shoehorned their way in, Monte standing behind Cheri in one corner, 
not in the least discomforted by being crowded in next to her. 

Cheri realized that she was feeling pretty good, after all, and decided to 
do something crazy. She pressed back against Monte and felt the hardness of 
his cock collide into the soft cleft of her ass. Monte wasn't sure if she 
had done it by accident, and stood there motionless, hoping that it hadn't 
been. Cheri knew their time was short, and then began to revolve her 
ass-cheeks slowly, languidly against the hard stem of Monte's prick 
compressed within his pants. So he did have a hard-on! She had thought that 
she saw something big and hard in his pants that wasn't a pocketknife! Monte 
knew, now, that the sensuous buffering his prick was receiving wasn't an 
accident, and he decided to go along with it, to take it for what it was 
worth. His right arm concealed by his body, he carefully insinuated his hand 
underneath Cheri's skirt, sliding his hand underneath the waist of her 
panties, and then he dipped it into her warm, firm ass-cheeks. He slid his 
fingers low and then began to massage the perimeter of her anus, still moist 
from the ass-fucking that Michael had delivered her. Cheri squirmed her ass 
onto Monte's digit, feeling as if it was a little prick that was probing 
her. His finger went deeper and slowly, so as to not attract attention, he 
began to slide it in and out, giving her a fingerfucking up her ass. He kept 
it up for as long as he could, but it was all over too soon, when they 
reached the floor that Cheri's office was located on. 

* * * 

Bob arrived back in town with only one thought in mind, and he went directly 
to her. He parked down the street from Cheri's house so she wouldn't hear 
him drive up, then sneaked in the backdoor of the house and tiptoed up to 
her studio where he assumed she would be. 

He very carefully eased the doorknob open, willing it not to make a sound, 
and peered in. His guess had been right. Cheri was hard at work at her 
easel, in the glorious altogether. She was certainly a sight to behold, 
standing there beautifully, pinkly naked as she dabbed the canvas with her 
paintbrush. What Bob was not prepared for at all was the woman who was 
stretched out naked on the couch, posing for Cheri. Bob paused and took it 
all in, letting his eyes rove over one woman's body, then over another. 
Cheri was hard at work, her back turned toward him, working hard on her 
painting. His eyes zeroed in and fixed on that gorgeous dimpled ass of hers, 
taut enough from exercise that it wasn't the usual plump lump comprising 
most chick's asses. Cheri's ass had more ... more definition, more sexiness. 
Sleek in the way that a show horse's ass is sleek, highlighted as she 
shifted from one foot to another with changing shading and musculature that 
made it appear just so fucking inviting, so beautiful, so photographable, 
even so edible. 

Bob could hardly fault the beauty of that babe on the couch, either, 
although she looked a few years older than Cheri, perhaps closer to his own 
age of twenty-seven, and like a real dragon-lady with that dark beauty of 
hers. He didn't know who she was, he didn't even care who she was; Bob only 
knew that he wanted her, that he wanted to be inside of her. Veronica had 
undone her hair to fall in shimmering dark waves over her shoulders, 
providing a splash of darkness to contrast with the paleness of her skin. 
Her eyes were big and dark and feline, accentuated with green eye shadow, 
her cheekbones high. It was the kind of face that Bob associated with pure 
animalism, pure out-of-control fucking, it was the face of the kind of women 
who inhabited his wildest fantasies. 

Bob hadn't seen Betty's car in the driveway when he arrived, so he assumed 
that she wasn't home. He hoped that she wasn't home, because he wasn't sure 
how she would react if she saw what he was going to do just then. What could 
it harm if he gave himself a little pleasure at no one's expense! He had 
happened upon the girls in the studio innocently enough.... 

Bob reached down and undid the buttons on his khaki pants, reached past his 
underwear, then hauled forth his prick, already starting to swell from the 
stimulus of the naked babes he'd been ogling. He gripped his semi-hard prong 
in his hand and, drawing back the foreskin, began to gently frig, to 
friction it. He brought his eye back to the opened crack of the door and 
then began to imagine what it would feel like to fuck the dark-haired chick 
on the couch as he pulled and coaxed and worked on his prick. 

She looked like she was, oh, five or ten years older than Cheri. Much more 
mature, womanly, really. Those tits of hers were something to behold, that 
was for certain; really spectacular. They were big and long and angular, 
shaped more like two French loaves thrust defiantly out from her chest than 
anything else. And the nipples were just one more element of their 
perfection. Her nipples were huge and a dark honey tint, the spikes angled 
jauntily upward, the same angle that Bob's dick was taking at the moment. 

Veronica's snatch was so big and dark and hairy, contrasting beautifully 
with the lightness of her skin, with those long, long legs arranged casually 
on the couch. Bob's mind was a scramble of images as he thought about what 
it would be like to shove his face right into that frizzy midnight muff, to 
take a full inhalation of the tang of that incredible twat, to feast on it, 
to spread the rosy lips wide and to dive his mouth down to it and feast, 
feast to his fucking heart and dick's content. 

It was Cheri that was the first to press her mouth to that pussy, though. 

Bob didn't expect it, didn't have any idea as he watched Cheri walk casually 
over to the woman lying on the couch. They had talked about women with women 
before, Bob had even made some vague sounds to encourage Cheri to suggest 
that they make a threesome of it with Betty sometime, but she didn't take 
the bait. In fact she denied having any interest in her own sex at all, and 
Bob had taken her at her word, even if it was slightly disappointing to him. 
Shit, Cheri was the most beautiful broad in the world, but sometimes a guy 
needed a little change of pace ... Now, watching her through the door, he 
wasn't sure how to react as he saw her kneel before the other woman, extend 
her hand and caress the other woman's sleek and slim thigh, then move her 
hand to touch the other woman's bare ass-cheek. 

Bob was a realistic guy, above all else he was realistic. There, with his 
cock perched in his hand, he decided he would save his indignation and hurt 
for later, when it might do some good and could be used to get Cheri to do 
something he would enjoy, like include another female member into their 
fucking bouts. For now he would put those concerns aside and attempt to 
enjoy the moment for what it was, and it certainly did have nice 
possibilities. 

Veronica pressed her hand to Cheri's back, urging her onward. The other 
woman clasped her friend's ass tight and lowered her mouth toward the big, 
tangled triangle of darkness. She lifted one hand and spread the lips of her 
pussy as Veronica lifted and spread her legs, then she sank her mouth, 
tongue extended, down to the glistening, ruddy crack that lay directly 
before her and looked so fucking inviting. 

Bob could hear Veronica's moan as Cheri brought her mouth into contact with 
her friend's exposed twat lips, licking up and down the length of the 
exposed slice with long strokes of her cat-like tongue, then burrowing two 
fingers deep, into her open crack, making the other woman arch and grasp, as 
she used her tongue and lips and teeth to torment Veronica's pussylips and 
clit. 

Bob imagined that it was his face that was ground into the dark-haired 
woman's incredible cunt, licking, laving, scouring the interior of her pussy 
with his licking, probing tongue. His hand was jerking with a smooth, 
regular frigging on his boner, and his cock was already stone-hard in his 
fist. He felt like he could haul off and cum at any time, all it would take 
would be that decision, that act of will to drive him over the edge into his 
orgasm, but he tried to sustain the sensation as long as he could, holding 
it back to increase the intensity when it did arrive. 

Veronica was working on one of Cheri's fabulous tits with her hand while 
Cheri did her pussy with her mouth and fingers. Never shy, Cheri climbed on 
the sofa, too, angling her ass above Veronica's face for a wonderfully 
revealing view both to Veronica and to Bob, all the while maintaining her 
sucking and fingerfucking. Veronica rose up and, clasping Cheri's rosy cream 
ass-cheeks with her fingers, dove her mouth into the inviting pink target of 
Cheri's anus, extending her hot tongue, driving the probing, twisting finger 
of her tongue deep into Cheri's sensitive ass-hole, making her whimper and 
yelp with the torturous, delicious sensation. 

At that rate, it didn't take Bob a hell of a lot of time to take himself all 
the way. He tried to match the moods of the broads as he whacked his prick 
in his fist, listening to their gasps, watching the frenzied pumping of 
their pale pink hips and asses, and when he heard their cries, when he heard 
their begging to "Fuck me! Fuck me!" he let his willpower drop out and 
jerked harder, driving himself onward. The girls gargled out their joy 
between each other's legs and Bob fell gasping against the doorjamb, his 
brain exploding and whiting out in release as he stood there ramrodding his 
prick with his hand. He felt like his heart was going to burst when he fired 
a triple pulsing squirt of his cum and it splattered across the hall 
wallpaper leaving a big, heart-shaped stain. He stood there, dazed, weak, 
pounding on his pud until the dregs of it had dripped into the carpeting, 
and then, taking a final peek at the two naked girls collapsed onto each 
other, still sucking each other's pussy and ass, he tucked his shrinking 
prick away in his khakis and stole down the hallway on his tiptoes. 

 V 

Betty had spent the previous night in an overpriced fleabag of a motel, just 
so she wouldn't have to confront Cheri about the embarrassing scene with 
Veronica. It had all been too weird, and the way that Betty had reacted to 
catching them making love had been something she was not proud of. After 
all, Betty really didn't have any problem with lesbian sex; hadn't she and 
Cheri made it that one incredible time, shortly after they had moved into 
the house? What she had the problem with was Cheri having sex with anyone 
but her, because she was jealous of any other woman possessing Cheri. She 
knew that her attitude was ridiculous but, after all, it was not one she had 
chosen. Her horror at finding Veronica and Cheri screwing hadn't been 
something she had made up. It had been unexpected, impossible to control, 
something that had come straight from the gut. 

Finally Betty had to admit that she was in love with Cheri, that she had 
always been in love with Cheri. She didn't really want to believe it, there 
was a little bit too much inbred conservatism about what a woman was 
supposed to feel, supposed to do for her to feel comfortable with her 
emotions. But she was unable to deny that those emotions existed. 

Practically from the first moment she had known Cheri, she finally had to 
admit, she had been in love with her. And the sex had been the culmination 
of a dream that she had been unwilling to let herself believe. She knew now 
that if it was possible she would make love to Cheri every night, every day. 

When Betty arrived home she found the brief note from Cheri telling her that 
she was spending the weekend in Tahoe, and that if Bob called, to explain it 
to him. Explain it to him! Fat chance! Both Betty and Bob knew that Cheri 
didn't have enough money in her savings account to do anything like flying 
to Tahoe for a mini-vacation, and that it had to be some guy she had picked 
up that was footing the bill. She didn't think that Bob would be too 
thrilled by that idea, and she could understand why. As for Betty, the idea 
of Cheri going on yet another of her fucking sprees with some guy up at Lake 
Tahoe didn't really concern her too much. For some crazy reason, probably 
because it had happened so often before, the idea of a guy screwing Cheri 
didn't bother Betty. She knew that she had depths of feeling, of sensitivity 
of her own, that no guy could match. She didn't have a prick, of course, but 
then that could be dealt with. She knew that women shared something, knew 
some things that men didn't and could never begin to appreciate. That was 
what no man could ever compete with her in, and why she knew that she had 
something for Cheri that no man did. She understood Cheri, understood her 
needs. What was a guy, anyway, but a chick that always carried a dildo? And 
if that was such a fucking big deal, well then Betty could always go down to 
the neighborhood adult bookstore and buy a dildo! That wasn't so fucking 
hard, was it? It was Cheri making it with a broad that somehow bothered 
Betty, bothered her deeply. She felt that if a chick was fucking Cheri, then 
it should be her.... 

Betty put the note down on the kitchen table where she had found it, and 
without even a decision, without willing herself to, she wandered up the 
stairs to the second floor. She walked past the door to the studio and felt 
a sore twinge, remembering back on the sight of Cheri and Veronica twined 
naked together, enjoying each other in a way that Betty would have preferred 
that Cheri save for her. Then she walked farther down the hall to Cheri's 
room, where the door was standing open. Betty paused at the doorway, then 
looked inside. It was really amazing how much of Cheri's personality was in 
the room, it almost felt as if her friend was with her right then. It looked 
like Cheri had done some hasty packing, this morning or perhaps this 
afternoon, undoubtedly preparing for her fling in Tahoe. A dress and a 
blouse were laying on the bed where they had been tossed, and one of Cheri's 
bras was hanging over the edge of an open drawer in the chest. 

Betty felt a slight twinge of guilt as she walked into the other woman's 
bedroom, even though she knew that Cheri wouldn't have minded even if she 
knew. She looked around and was vaguely amused at Cheri's idea of 
housekeeping. Neatness had never been her long suit. On her writing desk 
there were a scattered sheaf of sketches of nudes, and although they were 
rough so that Betty could not identify them, she hoped that they weren't of 
Veronica. On the floor was a pair of crumpled leotards where Cheri had 
tossed them. 

Neatness isn't everything, Betty thought. 

She walked over to Cheri's dresser. Perhaps she might neaten up things a 
little bit, so that Cheri wouldn't be returning to a messy room. She wasn't, 
after all, mad at her ... Betty reached out and removed the bra from the 
drawer it was hanging over, glancing at it, rubbing the fabric between her 
thumb and forefinger to touch the fabric. That was Cheri's lingerie drawer, 
not that she wore much of that sort of thing, except when she was at work, 
being the perfect secretary. Holding the bra in her fingertips, she was 
reminded of Cheri, or rather, she was reminded of Cheri's luscious body. 
Just think, this wispy little piece of nothing gets to hold Cheri's 
incredible tits all the time, and does it appreciate them? No! To cup them, 
to lift them, just as Betty had once held them, lifted them, suckled on 
them. Her mind went back to the time that she and Cheri had had sex, an 
event that normally she kept tucked away in the back of her mind and really 
didn't like to think about too much because of the longings that it evoked 
in her. She remembered the big mounds of Cheri's boobs, each capped with 
those big, perfect pink nipples, the shading of that pink almost impossible 
to describe ... or to resist ... Betty looked at the bra again and thought 
about Cheri when she would sometimes wander around in her underwear before 
work, perhaps sitting in the kitchen and having a cup of coffee, perhaps 
rushing around the house and trying to find where she had left something the 
night before. The way her nipple-ends would spike through the thin, white 
fabric was so fucking pretty, such a fucking turn-on, though she had never 
told Cheri so. So many times, sitting there across from her, she had had the 
urge to lean forward and to take those nipple-spikes in her lips, right 
through the fabric of the bra, to suck on them, to make them go all 
distended and to make those twinges of pleasure rocket through Cheri. But 
she had always willed that forbidden urge down, denied that it even 
existed.... 

Betty pressed the filmy fabric of the bra to her face , inhaling, and 
pretended she was pressing her face into, between Cheri's tits. She moaned, 
imagining those firm, conical mounds and their soft pressure against her 
face, against her mouth, against her tongue. She imagined the little spike 
of one of Cheri's nipples protruding hard against into her mouth, and she 
pretended to take it into her lips and to suck,, to suck. She imagined 
herself licking at the big, pink aureoles of Cheri's tits, licking, stroking 
her tongue around the almost invisible shading at the edges, making the 
edges go all pink and dimply and beautiful. She kissed and sucked at the 
bra, moaning, pretending it was Cheri's tits she was doing it to. 

Betty lay back on Cheri's bed and, still clutching the bra, she opened the 
buttons of her shirt. Then she popped the button on the jeans she was 
wearing and dragged them and her flimsy underwear down over her hips. She 
looked at her own brunette curly snatch and realized that she was getting 
wet, getting warm inside her pussy channel, and that the spit-curls of hair 
at the base of her snatch were plastered into the dampness of her pussy 
cleft. She lay back and let one of her hands descend down her belly and into 
the jungle of her tangled cunt-hair, going lower to embed her fingers into 
her cunt, squishing them into the hot, hot wetness. Betty writhed on the 
bed, grinding her ass into the covers as she worked her fingers into her 
pussy, grinding her hand into her clit, grinding the cups of the bra into 
her face and mouth. She was so hot she didn't even know what she could do 
about it! Betty kissed, licked and sucked at that bra, all the while 
imagining that it was Cheri's pink, out-thrust tits she was doing it to, 
while she poked and prodded her fingers into her cunt. Hotter than hell, she 
was panting, gasping, whimpering as she fingered herself, bringing her body 
closer to the inevitable explosion of joy. 

Why would she do it to me? she pleaded with herself, aching inside. Why 
would she make it with another broad when I'm the one that ... that ... 
wants to love her, to fuck her! That wants to suck her titties, to flick my 
tongue on her nipples, that wants to kiss her and have our tongues wrestle 
with each other, suck each other as if we're sucking two wet little pricks. 
She kept up the banging with her fingers, driving herself onward physically 
and with her imagination toward her climax. 

She must know that I would give anything to see her naked here beside me, to 
lower myself between her legs and to press my mouth to her dark pussy, to 
shove my nose, my tongue into her crotch ... I want to eat her! To fuck her! 
To eat out her ass, to look at her ass-hole, driving my tongue hard into her 
ass-hole; to suck, to lick, to probe.... 

Betty gritted her teeth and began to furiously flick her thumb on her clit, 
feeling her thighs, her legs tremble as she did so, feeling her own breath 
quickening. Yes, she said to herself, rubbing the bra over her little, 
up-perked tits, over the large brown nipples, if Cheri was here she would 
want to do the same to me, she would want ... she would want ... and then 
just the image of her friend's blonde head shoved into her crotch made Betty 
work her fingers more furiously, pinching and twiddling her clitoris while 
she thought about her friend's pink tongue licking out and flicking and 
sucking ... and she lost everything and arched back, feeling the waves of 
sex rape her brain, wanting every hole sucked, fucked, screwed by Cheri ... 
Wanting everything done by Cheri endlessly, wanting to do everything to 
Cheri, to do every one of her holes endlessly.... 

* * * 

It was probably the most beautiful beach that Cheri had ever seen in her 
life, and it amazed her that it was deserted. The white sand was bordered on 
all sides by rock and sloping shoulders of earth, fringed with tall stands 
of pine trees. The sky was an incredible pastel blue, with fleecy white 
clouds curdled all through. The water was ... how blue? ... It was the 
clear, transparent blue of a sapphire engagement ring offered by a rich 
man.... 

Al Monte laid two oversized beach towels down and, lowering himself to the 
ground and sitting on one, was content to watch Cheri cavort and play in the 
crystal-blue water. The bikini she had brought with her left very little of 
her beautiful body to the imagination, but Al Monte still sat there and, in 
his imagination, stripped off those two remaining string-like pieces of red 
fabric. Cheri, laughing and splashing, was quite aware of the activity of 
Monte's eyes-she'd been aware of the activity of men and boy's eyes for 
quite a long time now, ever since she had developed tits-but she wasn't in 
the least bit offended. In fact, unlike some women, Cheri found it a turn-on 
to be ogled by men under any circumstances. 

Al Monte was thinking, estimating what it would take to, well, not own, but 
possess the beautiful blonde in the water. It was impossible for Al to look 
at those sleek, curved ass-cheeks concealed only by the string of the bikini 
riding the vertical split, at the concealed triangular patch of fabric 
concealing ... what? Probably brunette pubic hair ... and at those two 
high-riding, beautiful, jogging mounds, really only their nipples concealed 
by the bikini, without figuring out how he could possess all that, to keep 
its beauty for his own. It all came down, simply, to whether Cheri was 
willing to go along with the plans he had for her, with the dreams ... He 
really couldn't change the hand of cards he had been dealt, and somehow Al 
hoped that Cheri was able to overlook the fact that the dreams were those of 
a middle-aged, not all that great-looking of a would-be Casanova. If she 
could only overlook the surface.... 

Al Monte, as he was well aware, was no kid any longer. And that was probably 
what Cheri was used to, pretty much: kids. She appeared to be barely into 
her twenties, and Al suspected that the usual date she might acquire might 
take her to, what? The drag races? The movies? And then they would try to 
cop a feel of Cheri's tits, or a screw in the backseat of their car while 
parked on some lonely side street of Portland. Hell, maybe she would be 
amenable to giving Al a chance, at least he wouldn't be trying to finger her 
in the movies, for God's sake!. As far as money, Al could buy her anything, 
anything, even though she probably didn't realize it. A Lamborghini for 
Christmas? No problem. A diamond necklace with a stone like a pigeon's egg? 
Well, maybe a little more difficult, but can do ... But, on the down side of 
the ledger, Al didn't look like a teenager anymore, either. Sitting there on 
the sand in his baggy swim trunks he was only too aware of his slight pot 
belly and of his thinning hair. Did it matter to Cheri? Of course it would 
matter, it was just a matter of how much it mattered! 

He saw Cheri running friskily toward him on the sand, like some nymphet out 
of a chewing gum commercial, kicking up sand and just taking joy in her 
youth, in the surroundings. 

"Al," she laughed, "you should come in! The water feels wonderful!" She laid 
beside him and he turned to assess her rump from close-up. Her body looked 
beautiful, glistening with droplets of water, her hair slicked back and 
darkened by the water. "Damn, this is just fabulous, Al! Isn't the sun 
wonderful? I could just stay here forever, I could just live here!" 

It was a nice day, Al had to admit. "We're going to have to come up here 
sometime during the winter. Do you ski?" 

Cheri mumbled a vague, pleasured affirmative and relaxed on the towel. "Al, 
would you rub some of that sun tan cream on me?" she asked, gazing up at him 
with those doe eyes that she knew perfectly well had their effect on men. 

Al reached into the canvas carryall they had brought along, and ,pushing 
aside the junk they had accumulated, took out a tube of cream. He applied it 
liberally to his hands and then he began to rub it onto Cheri's pretty, 
already-tan shoulders. Cheri let out little purrs of pleasure as Al rubbed 
the cream into her skin, and Al's dick practically did the same. From her 
shoulders Al descended to her lower back, then he moved down on the towel to 
get at her legs. Cheri was getting a combination treatment with the sun tan 
cream and a massage in the bargain, and she was enjoying every minute, but 
not as much as Al was. He rubbed the cream all over her legs, working from 
her calves upward. Al was treating himself to her upper thighs last. It was 
almost maddening as he worked his fingers over Cheri's slim, soft legs, 
rubbing the cream in. Al's breathing was quickening just being in such close 
proximity to Cheri's nearly naked body, and his cock was already half-hard 
in his trunk and growing by leaps and bounds. Al could feel the large, 
exposed head as it rubbed against the inside of his trunks, asking to be 
released from its bondage and to find another, softer bondage. It was an 
annoying, frustrating feeling that made him want to let the big thing spring 
free, to have its way. Finally Al reached Cheri's upper thighs and his 
strong fingers worked the suntan lotion in. Cheri was purring her agreement 
as his fingers molded and caressed her thighs, the soft interiors, and he 
could watch her clenching her ass-cheeks fully exposed in the bikini-while 
his fingers worked firmly but softly, his fingers soaking up the 
deliciousness of Cheri's skin. 

Al just couldn't take it any longer. 

He went ahead and risked offending Cheri just to stop the torment of seeing 
her there almost naked, touching her. Al leaned over and slipped his fingers 
into the topmost part of the bikini. Cheri didn't utter a protest. Then he 
slid the bikini down. Even though the bikini had revealed just about all 
there was to reveal of Cheri's fabulous, firm ass, sliding it off sure did 
make a difference. Al feasted his eyes on the two big, shapely mounds of her 
ass and then brought his face down. He squeezed her ass-cheeks between his 
hands while he kissed and licked them like a starving wolf. All Cheri did 
was to let out a little moan and to move her ass a little in slow, 
languorous swirling motions, letting him take his pleasure and his eye's and 
mouth's fill of her rear. Al spread her ass-cheeks with his worshipful 
fingertips and then lowered his mouth to her rump and began to run his 
tongue in hot, cat-like strokes between the cheeks, doing a bit of moaning 
himself. As Al went lower he saw the protruding tuft of dark hair that stuck 
out between Cheri's legs, saw the little puckered pinkish hole of her anus, 
and went at his task with a vengeance. Spreading her cheeks with his 
fingers, his mouth, his nose dove into the warm, wet junction at the base of 
her ass, licking, nuzzling, moaning, and then thrusting. He slid his tongue 
into Cheri's ass as he felt her ass clench and squeeze and then do a little 
rhythmic bucking as if she was simulating fucking someone. 

"Oh, Al! Oh, fuck!" Cheri moaned, raising her ass up farther to let Al 
better squirm and swirl his tongue into it. Al reached under her raised body 
and slid his hands over her hairy little quim, molding it, letting his 
fingers slide shallowly into her already widening, wet cunt lips. Cheri was 
bucking her hips as Al banged her up the ass with his tongue. 

In a single smooth motion Cheri rolled over and Al was gifted with the 
vision of her cunt, her cunt-mound all arrayed with fine strands of dark 
hair, and the shadowed slit of her crotch. Al dove right to work and Cheri 
spread her legs, reaching down to clasp Al's head in her fingers as he 
burrowed his tongue into her cunt, tickling, driving it in until she was 
letting out little rhythmic yelps and banging her cunt hard into his lips 
and tongue and teeth. Al was licking and chewing to his heart's content, but 
suddenly he got the message. His cock was telling him it wanted a piece of 
the action, too. 

Al climbed further up the towel and, standing on his knees, slid his trunks 
down. His cock arched at an angle away from the liberally-furred tangle of 
his crotch, bobbing semi-stiff in the air. He hoped Cheri liked it. 

Cheri did! Al came up next to Cheri and, taking his cock into his hand, let 
it slide up and down Cheri's pussyslit, dawdling, pressing it inward. Her 
cunt was wide and cherry-tinted inside, and with a single plunging arch Al 
sank it deep into more sensation than he had ever known before. Maybe it was 
crazy, but the sensation of having his prick lodged into that chick's cunt 
seemed to carry to him all her youth, all her longing. 

Al smiled, even as he jogged his cock in her. Maybe it was just that she was 
a hell of a lot tighter than any pussy he had had for a very long time! He'd 
just seen the end of fifteen long years of misery married to Irma, his 
thankfully ex, and he was feeling an incredible relief being out of that 
trap, hoping he would never lets himself be hogtied and humiliated, 
ass-fucked by a shrewish woman like that again. Al slid Cheri's bikini top 
off of the twin, glistening mounds of her tits and stared at the two little 
ruddy-pink bobbing nipple-castles sitting atop those two big white hillocks 
of breast. His hands reached out and, as he continued to prick her down 
below, his hands molded and caressed her tits. Cheri moaned and writhed, and 
Al loved the look of pleasure on her face, her mouth lolling wickedly open, 
her tongue going out to dodge over and glisten her lips. 

Al just kept on banging. He was harder than he ever remembered being before, 
even in his college days when he was giving Irma a chase around the block, 
and his cock felt like some kind of a sawed-off broomstick handle shoved up 
the little wench's crotch. He felt like he could have banged away on her 
tight little pussy for an hour, for a week, forever. 

Cheri just couldn't believe that cock of Al's! He just kept ramming and 
slamming, punishing the inside of her cunt with it! He was so hard, and he 
was going on for so long! Obviously he wasn't quite the over-the-hill guy 
that she might have thought at first blush! She was already out of control, 
feeling like she was experiencing one long, continuous orgasm as he beat 
that pecker hard and repeatedly into her, beat that pussy into whimpering, 
total submission with it like it had needed for ever so long! Al was so 
forceful, so strong, like a raging bull plowing into her from above, and 
just when she didn't think she could take another stroke of that big, stony 
prick of his she was shattering ... shattering into a hundred pieces as the 
sweet pinkness of her orgasm engulfed her whole body. Convulsing, it seemed 
like the universe was turning into sweet soft ecstasy, and that all of her 
ecstasy was molded around the hard rod of Al's prick that now ... fired a 
streamer of molten jizz to splatter deep into her, burning her inside, 
burning her like she had always wanted to be burned.... 

* * * 

"She fuckin' what?" Bob asked, his face outwardly showing no expression. 

"I said she went to Lake Tahoe. I'm not going to make any excuses, if you 
expect me to. C'mon out of the doorway, and I'll show you the note." 

Bob followed Betty into the kitchen, his mind whirling, not knowing what to 
think. She handed him the note from Cheri, and he read it, then read it one 
more time just to be sure. 

"You want a cup of coffee?" Betty asked. 

Bob looked up from the note. "Uh, sure." He sat down at the kitchen table, 
then looked at the note again. "Tahoe? What business has she got in...." 
Betty could almost see the gears in Bob's mind spinning, could almost hear 
them whirring as he sorted through the mystery of Cheri taking off without 
advance notice. "And another thing, where did she get the dough to go there? 
She blew the last of her savings on fixing the transmission in the car a 
couple of weeks ago...." 

Betty handed him the cup of coffee, still waiting for the truth to dawn on 
Bob. 

"Oh," he said, things finally starting to filter through. "Oh." 

Bob took a sip of coffee and sat for a moment, thinking. "Do you know this 
... this guy she took off with?" 

Betty sat across the table from him and sipped at her own coffee. "No, I 
don't. It was as much of a surprise to me as it is to you. It's my guess 
that it's somebody she met at work." And then Betty realized that it might 
not be a guy. It might be Veronica and Cheri fucking their brains out at 
some resort hotel by the lake, and then she suddenly started to feel heated. 
She held back her thoughts from Bob, she didn't need to get him any more 
disturbed than he probably already was. 

"That tears it," Bob said, but without anger. "I guess she expects me to be 
here for her when she gets back from her fuck spree in Tahoe with this new 
guy of hers. It ain't gonna happen." 

Betty bit her lip, and looked at Bob. Suddenly she saw what he was seeing, 
and she saw that the floodgate that had kept she and Bob apart while he and 
Cheri were together was rapidly springing leaks. 

"I can't say I didn't expect it...." Bob said. "Cheri has a pretty liberal 
attitude when it comes to sex. She told me that upfront, but I guess I 
didn't really pay attention. I wanted to hear something else, can you blame 
me? I guess I was too hot to get into her pants to think about anything 
else." 

"Yeah," Betty said, "other guys have felt that way about her, too. They get 
hypnotized by her tits, I think." 

Agreements were over, now. 

Bob reached out his hand, testing the water behind the floodgate. He touched 
Betty's arm and she lifted her eyes to his. They sparkled. 

"Are you sure?" Betty said. 

He leaned over and took her in his arms, holding her close, squeezing her. 
His actions could still be construed as just being comforting, but that 
wasn't his intention, at all. He could feel the bulbs of her tits pressing 
right through his shirt. He kissed her on the neck, letting his lips wander 
further, drifting downward. 

Bob," she said, "I don't know if this is such a good idea...." 

But by that time it had progressed far beyond an idea, and Betty knew it 
perfectly well. They both stood up and in one motion Bob popped the snaps of 
Betty's shirt, stripping it open, exposing her naked tits to view. 

"Fuck...." Bob said, staring at the big brown disks of Betty's nipples, at 
their hard, projecting spikes. His hands went to her little tits, molding 
them, distorting them within his fingertips and he brought his mouth down to 
a single nipple, took it in his mouth and worked it with his lips and tongue 
and teeth, making Betty arch her chest into his face, and to whimper with 
the sensations. She bucked her crotch against Bob's leg, her hands roving 
down to work his belt buckle open, then the buttons of his pants. She 
stripped his pants and underwear down and her cool fingers went out to his 
hot dick, squeezing, working, bringing it rapidly to attention. Bob lifted 
her up on the kitchen table, moving the cups of coffee onto a chair. He 
undid her pants and then dragged them over her hips, watching her pussy-hair 
arise auburn brown and shimmering. She spread her legs and Bob rapidly 
levered his body over her, thrust his cock down to her ready, wet pussylips 
and thrust into her, jolting her on the table, making her grunt with the 
shock, grunt with the pleasure. 

"Shit, Bob," Betty gasped, her face tortured with pleasure, "I've waited for 
this for so fucking long...." 

And Bob had, too. He had wanted to screw Betty practically from the moment 
that Cheri had introduced them, had even suggested to Cheri on a couple of 
occasions that it might be fun and harmless to include Betty into their sex 
play. Now he was going to get the opportunity to find out what Cheri's 
friend was like in the sack, and he could hardly wait. He hovered over 
Betty, his hands taking his pleasure, while his naked ass bucked and drove 
his long, hard stem into her cuntchannel, each stroke making her jerk on the 
kitchen table, making her gasp with the impact. He leaned down and his ass 
was going like a machine out of control, pounding his rod deep into her, 
making her beg for his dick. 

"Do me ... Fuck me ... Fuck me!" Betty gasped out, completely oblivious to 
the fact that she was fucking the guy who had, moments before, been her best 
friend's lover. "I want it!" she groaned, wrapping her legs around Bob's 
ass, "I've got to...." 

And then Bob drove that final hard flurry of strokes and he too was washed 
away, was slamming his boner into the center of that fire that was exploding 
between them, blowing the whole world away.... 

The difficult part to deal with was after the fuck. Bob and Betty both felt 
guilty about screwing behind Cheri's back, regardless of what she was up to 
in Tahoe. They were friends, they were lovers, and it just didn't seem right 
to be concealing anything from her. It was silly, but that was the way it 
was. Still, they also both knew that the scene between Bob and Cheri was 
dead, if only because of the fucking she and he had done, and they knew that 
something was might be developing between them. They only hoped that it 
wouldn't destroy their friendship with Cheri. 

 VI 

The marriage proposal that had climaxed their stay at Tahoe had floored 
Cheri. Of course, Al Monte explained, his divorce would have to be 
finalized, but then he couldn't think of anything he would rather do than 
spend the time waiting for his divorce to go through while fucking Cheri at 
every possible opportunity. It did make a kind of sense, Cheri had to admit. 
Cheri's head was spinning on the plane all the way back to Portland, still 
spinning when she pulled into the driveway of her home Sunday night. Both 
Betty and Bob's cars were parked in front of the house, and she expected 
quite a scene as she unlocked and entered the front door. No scene awaited, 
at least not immediately. The lights were out in the living room and the 
kitchen, the house seeming curiously deserted. Then she noticed that there 
was a light dimly shining from Betty's door on the upstairs landing. 

Cheri tapped quietly on Betty's door, and then swung the door open. Somehow, 
she had expected this, and knew that Bob and Betty had arranged the scene 
for her benefit, probably to teach her some kind of a lesson that she 
couldn't deny she needed being taught. They were both sitting up in bed, 
sheets pulled to their waist, and they were quite naked above the sheets. 

"Hello, Cheri," Bob said with a sober expression on his face, "did you have 
a fun weekend? Betty and I certainly did. We've been continuously fucking 
since Friday night. I hope you had fun in Tahoe, cause you sure missed out 
on some serious screwing back here." 

"I would prefer it if you didn't try and fuck with my mind," Cheri said, 
looking at her friend and her ex-lover, wishing that she was somewhere, 
anywhere else than here. 

Bob smiled. "Oh, by the way," he said, "thanks for the note. Damned 
thoughtful of you, sweetheart. Didn't want me to worry, I guess." 

Cheri looked at Betty and Bob. "You're right. I deserve everything I get. 
I'm not blaming you two, at all. I guess I could have presented it to you a 
little better, Bob. I guess I didn't have to leave you with the 
responsibility of handling the scene with Bob, either, Betty. I fucked up. I 
admit it. I seriously fucked up! What can I say? I'm sorry." And with that 
Cheri turned and left the room, and walked down the stairs. The fact of the 
matter was that she didn't quite know what she would do next. She did know 
that she didn't feel like spending the night at home. The situation with Bob 
might turn into an argument or, if it didn't, she would spend the night in 
her bedroom thinking about he and Betty screwing their brains out in the 
other room. She got into her car and drove around without any particular 
destination in mind, just traveling on winding side streets, going in 
circles until she discovered that by accident or by some design she was 
unaware of she had driven to Veronica's neighborhood, a rather ritzy, 
tree-lined suburb of Portland. She waited outside without going up to the 
house for a long time, not really sure if this was what she should be doing. 
Finally, deciding she would rather confront Veronica than spend a night in a 
motel, she walked up to the door. 

* * * 

Cheri knocked on the door and, after waiting a few moments, the door swung 
open. A girl stood in the doorway, but it wasn't Veronica. 

"Oh, hi!" she said, smiling cheerily in counter' point to Cheri's somewhat 
shitty mood, "C'mon in ... Things are only just getting started ... Don't 
worry, you haven't missed anything...." 

The girl standing in the door surprised her, but beyond that was her unusual 
dress. A towel, simply. That was all she was wearing, although Cheri 
couldn't think of any type of apparel that would have looked nicer or more 
appropriate on her. 

She clutched the towel tightly to her body, trying to somehow get it to 
cover all the parts it was supposed to, but didn't quite. Her tits, for 
instance. Now those were certainly worth taking note of. They were big, and 
if she pulled the towel up to cover both of those big mounds, it slid off of 
her crotch hair which, by the way, was a lovely dark blonde, Cheri soon 
found out. 

She followed her down the hall leading to Veronica's living room and 
couldn't help but admire the swiveling of the chick's full, firm ass-cheeks 
as she led the way. When they reached the living room she threw off the 
towel altogether, tossing it into a chair, uncaring of who saw her 
nakedness. 

There were five women in the living room, all of them equally and 
wonderfully naked. A couple of them were standing and chatting casually, 
with drinks in their hand, and the others were sitting on the couch and a 
chair that had been pulled into conversational reach, looking like they were 
having a standard coffee klatch sans apparel. Veronica was one of the women 
that were sitting, and when she saw Cheri enter she quickly rose from the 
couch, and walked over to her. 

"Cheri! What a surprise!" Cheri stared as Veronica approached her, nude, her 
eyes affixed to the jiggle of her two titan-sized tits, to the swaying of 
her big, black triangle of cunt-hair. "I was just having an intimate little 
gathering with a few of my closest friends ... I hope you can stay?" 
Intimate was right, Cheri thought! 

Cheri stumbled over her answer, wondering, and yet knowing what she was 
getting herself into. "I ... Well, I'm not really....", then she blurted it 
out: "Veronica, do you have a few moments to spare to talk with me?" 

Veronica could see that something was bothering Cheri. "Sure," she said. She 
turned to the naked assemblage. "Ladies, pardon us for a moment...." 

Veronica took Cheri through a nearby doorway and into her bedroom. "It's the 
only part of the house that's private...." 

Both of the women sat on the bed, Veronica crossing her legs underneath her, 
and Veronica said, "Spit it out, kid. What's bothering you? Is it the thing 
that's developed between you and me? If it is, I'll understand...." 

"No, no," Cheri said, "at least, that's only part of it. It's just that in 
one stroke I seem to have alienated all of my friends ... and lovers ... and 
I didn't mean for it to happen that way, at all. See, I got involved ... I 
don't know if 'involved' is the right word ... with you, and of course that 
was great, and then Betty, my best friend, got all freaked out about that! I 
don't know exactly what the deal is, but I think she might have some kind of 
thing going for me that she never told me about. I told you that I'd had one 
lesbian encounter before? Well, that was with Betty, and although we never 
screwed again, maybe there was still some feeling lingering there with her. 
That was just the start, though. Then, I got 'involved' with this older guy 
named Al. Al Monte, he's a client of the firm. Do you happen to know him?" 

"Al Monte?" Veronica said, her face betraying incredulity. "With him?" 

Cheri nodded. "Yeah. Well, that blew up in my face when my boyfriend Bob 
found out that Al and I were spending the weekend up in Tahoe. Now, to get 
back at me, he and Betty are screwing around, and I don't know if they have 
something going, or whether it's just to spite me. The crazy thing is, I'm 
jealous! It's stupid, but that's just the way I feel, and I can't seem to do 
anything about it! And now, the topper. After our weekend at Lake Tahoe, Al 
asked me to marry him. Right out of the fucking blue he pops it on me! I 
just don't know what to do!" 

"Look, sister," Veronica said, moving closer on the bed to Cheri, putting 
her arm around her in a gesture of sisterly concern, "don't be so fucking 
worried about what other people are doing or thinking, or who they're 
screwing. You'll drive yourself around the bend thinking like that! Don't 
worry about who anyone else is fucking and don't worry about whether I, or 
Betty, or whashisname are going to approve of who you're fucking, or 
marrying, or whatever! It's none of their-it's none of our fucking business. 
It's for you to decide." She placed her hand on Cheri's leg and rubbed it 
reassuringly, and perhaps a bit more than reassuringly. "The important thing 
sounds like this marriage bit ... Do you want to marry the guy, or are you 
just being railroaded into it? Al Monte has a ton of money, are you sure 
that that might not be influencing your decision just a little bit?" 

"I don't know!" Cheri said, shaking her head, "I just don't know!" 

"Good," Veronica said. "Then don't worry about it! You're going to need some 
more time to think about it. Can you tell him that? Can you put him off for 
a while, while you give it some consideration, just so you don't make some 
stupid fucking move that you're going to regret for the rest of your life." 

"Yeah, I'm sure I can...." 

"Okay." Veronica pulled Cheri close and hugged her, squeezing her naked tits 
against the other woman. "That wasn't so fucking difficult, was it? You just 
tell him to give you a little time to think about it, and in the meantime, 
you relax. It's your life, Cheri, don't let people shove you into and out of 
relationships...." 

Cheri nodded, and then Veronica saw a little smile on her face. 

"That's the way! Since you're here, I suggest you join the party. Want to? I 
want you to meet all the chicks and, my intuition tells me, that a nice 
drink would be just the thing to fix you up...." 

Veronica and Cheri stood up, and then Veronica said, "But there's just one 
thing ... You're not exactly dressed for this party. You're a little 
overdressed, I would say ... She waved her hand, indicating her own naked 
body. "When in Rome?" 

Cheri nodded, smiled again, and then began to strip. Veronica stood back as 
she watched, watched intently, as the other woman shed her clothes. Veronica 
found herself wanting to throw the little babe down on the bed and fuck her 
right then, to fuck her with her fingers, to fuck her with her tongue, but 
because she was hosting the party she had to beat the urge down, put it on 
hold until there was a better opportunity. 

When Cheri was nude, Veronica said, "C'mon. This is your coming out 
party...." 

When Veronica and Cheri walked into the living room there were actually a 
couple of wolf whistles from the girls! It was obvious to Cheri what this 
little group was; a lesbian party, but somehow she didn't feel uncomfortable 
with the fact. She found herself admiring the bodies, the faces of the women 
present and, much to her surprise, actually getting turned-on seeing them in 
the nude under such close circumstances and in such an intimate situation. 
Two of the women, sitting on the couch, were actually making out, feeling up 
each other's bodies as they kissed and touched and twined around each other. 

"Hey, everybody," Veronica said, alerting the two who were obliviously 
involved on the couch, "I want you all to meet a friend of mine. This is 
Cheri. We work together and, well, I love her dearly." 

It was nice, Cheri thought, that Veronica had omitted the fact that she was 
a lawyer and that Cheri was a lowly legal secretary. Now, that was a friend. 

"Cheri," Veronica continued, "this is Cory...." Cory, the girl who had met 
her at the door wearing the towel, appeared to be the youngest of the 
group-nineteen, Cheri would have guessed, With a boyish, fresh beauty that 
Cheri was certain must have gotten a lot of studs interested in her, too. 

"Nice to meet you, Cheri," Cory said, without rising from the couch, but 
offering Cheri a sweet smile that promised much more to come, that Chen 
thought seemed to say that the chick was very, very available. 

"Cory is a physical education teacher, you could have guessed that from her 
body, right?" Veronica laughed. "She may look like an innocent little thing, 
but believe me, looks can be deceptive." 

Still, Veronica spoke the truth about Cory's looks. Cory was a slight bit 
pudgy, but on her it looked great. Her high-thrust, big breasts, capped with 
big nipples of the purest pink, betrayed not a bit of sag And that blonde 
pussy, wow! 

Where Cory was distinctly voluptuous, the next girl to be introduced was 
what Cheri might have termed feline. "Lisa, I'd like you to meet Cheri ... ' 
Lisa smiled sweetly, and Cheri realized she had to admire Veronica's taste 
in women. She was a small girl .delicately built, delicately featured, in 
her middle twenties, perhaps just a bit older than Cheri Those eyes ... Lisa 
had dark brown eyes, so dark that the pupils appeared black., actually a 
rather startling look. Those dark eyes went perfectly with Lisa's fair ivory 
skin, with her black hair that hung to her shoulders. Cheri lowered her eyes 
to take in Lisa's body. All of her seemed to be built to a slightly smaller 
scale than the other women. Her tits were placed high on her chest, pointed, 
capped by little dark nipples that invited lips to seek them out, to find. 
It seemed to Cheri that perhaps during the course of this party her own lips 
might search them out. 

"And Margaret...." Veronica said, turning to the woman sitting in a nearby 
chair, "you and Cheri will find plenty to bitch about ... See, Margaret 
happens to be a legal sec, too...." 

"I'm glad you could join us tonight, Cheri," Margaret said, standing to 
extend her hand and to gently take Cheri's. She was another girl, like 
Veronica, cast in that beautiful-severe mold, but unlike Veronica, she 
portrayed that same acidic beauty in the purest shades of blonde. She was 
tall, her long legs stretched out seemingly endlessly on the plush 
carpeting, and rather thin. There's a Nordic ball-buster for you, Cheri 
thought.... 

And the final girl in the group Veronica introduced as Sophie. Now this one 
was totally to Cheri's taste, another big blonde, but with a sensitiveness 
of features, a smallness of pink, upturned breasts that suggested an 
artistic nature, a delicateness of nature. 

"Sophie is a construction worker...." Veronica said, shattering Cheri's 
preconception. 

"Is Cheri the surprise you promised us, Veronica? If she is, I must say I'm 
not in the least bit disappointed!" Sophie said. 

"Well," Veronica said, "Cheri's as much of a surprise for me as she is for 
the rest of you. She wasn't even invited, at least officially, but that was 
just because I didn't expect her to be in town tonight. Actually, now that 
she's here I guess I could bring out the surprise I promised ... Are you in 
the mood for a wild time, Cheri?" 

It seemed to Cheri like she was-well, fuck, yes, she was sure she was-and 
she told her friend so. 

"Then just a moment...." Veronica departed the group for a moment, the 
collective eyes of the group following the swaying of her ass-cheeks as she 
got up and then returned to her bedroom for the "surprise". The group buzzed 
on and on about what kind of a undoubtedly sexy treat Veronica might have in 
store for them. 

"What do you think? Maybe she's got a guy in there, or maybe a bunch of guys 
... Yeah, I'll bet that's it, some of those guys in hardhats that you see at 
the male strip shows...." Lisa said, to be greeted by boos and catcalls from 
the rest of the group. 

"Some bondage junk, I'll just bet that's what it is," Sophie said, perhaps 
from wishful thinking. "Hey, that would be a surprise, right? Don't you 
think it would be kind of sexy to tie each other up and to have sex then?" 
The group didn't seem awfully responsive to that idea, either.... 

The surprise consisted of two featureless, hinged mahogany boxes. Veronica 
sat them on the coffee table in front of the couch and then stood back, let 
the women gather around and speculate about what might be in them. 

Lisa decided she agreed with Sophie. "I" think bondage stuff, too. You know, 
straps and stuff like that...." 

Cory whispered into Cheri's ear, perhaps a little wistfully, "I sure as fuck 
hope that they're both right....". 

"Dildos. Got to be. You've got to take into consideration the size of 
whatever is in there. That's about the only thing that would fit into boxes 
that size." That was Margaret's guess. 

Sophie picked up one of the boxes, lifted it, weighing it in her hands, 
shaking it like a child trying to figure out the contents of a Christmas 
present. "Maybe I'm going to change my guess. Maybe it's nose candy," she 
speculated. Veronica's a lawyer, she's got the bread for something like 
that. "Yeah, something for us to toot...." 

Veronica had to smile. "Go ahead, ladies. I hope you like the surprise. Open 
the boxes up." 

Cheri lifted the lid of the first mahogany box, to the accompaniment of the 
oohs and aahs of the women standing around her. 

Inside were two dildos, one a relatively unadorned one, although none the 
less impressive for it, a flesh-colored plastic model run over the surface 
with thick veins, the other a shocking purple tinted plastic dong festooned 
with numerous rows of tickly-looking whiskers all up and down the sides. 

"Evil looking bastards, ain't they, girls?" Veronica chuckled, pleased with 
the reactions of the recipients of her gifts. "I got them with all of you in 
mind...." 

The second box was opened and it contained two non-identical twins to the 
first pair of plastic puds. One of them was a big red double dong, each end 
sporting a great, bloated slit prickhead that looked like it was ready to 
let fire with half-a gallon of machinist's oil, the other a glistening black 
giant of larger proportions than the other models, so big that a few of the 
girls voiced their misgivings about the-likelihood of that big fucker 
fitting up anybody's cunt!. 

"That black monstrosity," Margaret said, "What I want to know is whether it 
will fit up a chick's hole? Are you sure, Veronica?" 

Veronica smiled. "Not at all." 

Margaret visibly swallowed. 

Another chair was pulled near the sofa, and the girls all sat down, huddling 
together, passing the plastic peckers between them for examination. 

Cory picked up the red, two-headed dildo, and raised it to eye level to look 
more closely at it. "Yes," she said appreciatively, "I think I can see some 
of the possibilities that this presents...." 

Cheri had intercepted the huge black dong as it was being passed around, and 
was now holding it in her palm while her other hand caressed it, feeling the 
dark, silken finish, wondering what it would feel like to have that big, 
silken thing thrust deep into her. 

Sophie took the plain, flesh-colored prick and rubbed it over her cheeks, 
looking like she was in seventh heaven. "Did I ever tell you girls that I 
used to like my old man to do this to me, to rub his cock on my face ... 
Yeah, I used to practically beg him to do that...." She brought the dildo 
lower, looking at it, then she ran a glistening trail of liquid up the 
venous length of it with her tongue, swirling it around, toying the tip of 
the pud with the tip of her tongue as if it was a real prick she was using 
her tongue on. 

Sophie purred with pleasure as her tongue found the base of the big, swollen 
prickhead, and she ran tongue strokes up and down the long, bloated 
flesh-colored bulb of it. 

"Mmmmm...." Cheri moaned, watching Sophie work her tongue over the head of 
the prick, and then Lisa leaned closer to her, lifted the black dildo out of 
her lap where she had sat it. 

"You like that, do you, Cheri?" Lisa said, her eyes hooding lustfully, and 
then she took the black dildo and ran it over the top of Cheri's breasts, 
rubbing it in swirling circles, stopping before the black plastic got to 
Cheri's nipples. 

Cheri purred with pleasure as the dildo moved over her naked breasts, and 
Lisa leaned close, watching as the other woman's nipples became taut, 
hardening and going spiky before her eyes. Cheri closed her eyes and lolled 
back on the couch, letting the other woman have an open holiday to do 
whatever she wanted with the dildo on her body. 

Soon the motion, the erotic, swirling motion of the plastic pud had 
progressed down Cheri's tits, down her belly, to be slid and caressed over 
her upper legs and thighs. 

Veronica, too, liked the looks of that action, and left her chair to join 
Lisa and Cheri. Veronica knelt at Cheri's feet and let her hands climb 
Cheri's legs, touching, caressing, while her mouth descended and she started 
to run long cat-like licks up and down Cheri's calves and legs. 

Suddenly, seeing what the girls were doing, the game seemed to turn into a 
delicious, benign form of "get the newcomer". 

Cory leaned over and, fascinated with Cheri's tits from the first moment she 
had seen them, now had her opportunity to sample them. And she did, with her 
fingers, her lips, her tongue; kissing, sucking, caressing. Sophie 
approached from the other side and brought her mouth to Cheri's, moaning as 
their lips met and her tongue dodged wetly, hotly into the other girl's 
mouth, kissing her. 

Lisa had escalated her play to start toying the big, black boner over 
Cheri's dark-thatched pussy, rubbing it up and down, swirling it over the 
exterior of her pussy lips. Cheri simply could not control her pleasure as 
so many hands, so many mouths, so many surrogate members crawled over her. 
She just let her body go with the flow, her eyes closed, relaxing into the 
swirling, erotic sensations as the other women determined to give her a 
fucking like she had never had before. 

Margaret was starting to drive Veronica mad with her attentions from behind. 
She had slid up behind the naked woman, and as Veronica subjugated herself, 
worshipping at the legs, the calves, the feet of Cheri, Margaret took a big 
handful of Veronica's long, dark-nippled tit, grasping it, working the 
nipple in her fingertips, while she angled the big purple dong into 
Veronica's hindquarters. Veronica was gasping for any number of reasons as 
Margaret probed with that plastic prick into her anus, then decided it 
wasn't going to work unless she eased its passage in some way. While 
Veronica kissed, licked, sucked at Cheri's feet and toes Margaret slid up 
behind her and started to lick her ass, wetting her ass-hole, shoving her 
finger into the other woman's anus to relax it. Then she licked the big, 
purple head of the dong and brought it flush with Veronica's up-thrust ass, 
shoving it, pushing it until it slid smoothly in and Veronica arched like 
she had been impaled. Margaret started pumping that dildo up Veronica's ass 
to the accompaniment of Veronica's loud gasps and moans: 

"Oh, fuck! Oh, shit! In the ass! Fuck me right up my ass! Do it, harder, 
please!" 

Lisa had seen the way that Margaret had lubed her dildo, and decided that 
that looked like fun, too. She slid off the couch and reached up to Cheri's 
crotch, spreading the cunt lips with her fingertips, bringing her mouth down 
and starting to lick and kiss and suck, liberally depositing her saliva into 
Cheri's pussycrack to ease the thrust of the dildo. There was no room at 
that beautiful watering hole for Sophie, so she took second best, sliding 
off the couch and joining Margaret, but to shove the dildo that she was 
clutching up Lisa. They could hear Lisa's muffled gasps and cries, muffled 
in Cheri's cunt, as Sophie drove the dong up her pussy from the rear. 

The whole mass of women was a pumping, writhing, moaning tangle as they 
shifted, angled, threw a leg over to provide easier access of a dildo or a 
tongue or a finger to some hungry hole. And at the center of the cyclone of 
fucking was Cheri! 

With a thrust lubricated by the passage her mouth had made Lisa drove that 
huge black boner into Cheri and she gasped and cried out. Shit, that plastic 
prong was bigger than any man's she had ever felt! Lisa started to 
rhythmically ram the boner in and out to the accompaniment of Cheri's 
rhythmic groans, going in cadence with the smooth passage of the other 
dildos as they worked this or that ass-hole or cunt. Cheri's eyes were 
closed, intensifying the sensations, as she was buffeted, molded by so many 
mouths, so many fingers, so many plastic pricks. One woman was having a 
field day eating out Cheri's mouth, sucking her extended tongue like it was 
a prick, while two other hands molded her tit like warm, sweaty clay. One 
tit was being licked, sucked, while that dildo just kept thrusting up her 
crotch channel, making her shiver with delight, making her head swirl with 
delirium, and driving her closer and closer to her explosion of ecstasy. She 
could feel one woman's hand snaked around her ass, clutching and probing her 
finger into her ass-hole to the beating of that dildo in her twat, and she 
could hear the continued rhythmic groans of the two woman kneeling in front 
of her and being rammed up the ass and the pussy by dildos. 

The action just kept increasing, the woman just kept shifting, working other 
holes, fucking other women for what seemed to Cheri to be an endless amount 
of time until finally she didn't think she could take another moment before 
she exploded. But still those fingers kept coaxing, running over her tits, 
dabbling and twirling and torturing her clit, shoving up her ass-hole, 
plunging and probing, and that dildo kept slamming, slamming, slamming until 
a scream welled up deep in Cheri's chest and, as her whole body exploded in 
a nova of delicious fire she screamed her lungs out with the pleasure. 

 VII 

Cheri had her plan worked out perfectly by the time Michael exited the 
elevators carrying a couple of parcels. There was no doubt that he was a 
handsome slab of meat, all right, made even more so by that uniform and by 
the short pants. And fuck! Look at his face! As if that vain ass-hole didn't 
fucking know it! Cheri's "A.M. fuck" deposited the two parcels on the edge 
of the desk, and without preamble, said: 

"Ten minutes?" He glanced around to make sure that two women who were 
sitting nearby, waiting on an appointment, were properly entranced by his 
physique, and then turned back to Cheri for confirmation. And he wouldn't 
have accepted anything but confirmation, she knew that. 

"Ten minutes," she said, and then gave him the sweetest smile she was 
capable of conjuring up at the moment. Yes, she had her plan worked out 
perfectly.... 

"Good!" Michael said, and then, practically purring, he added, "This prick 
of mine is as hard as a rock and I can't wait to sink it into those rosy 
petals of yours...." Michael picked up his package and then, pivoting on his 
heel, he headed back to the elevator. He flashed the two women waiting for 
an appointment a smile that made them giggle and whisper to each other. 

"If I'm not there, go on without me...." Cheri mumbled under her breath, and 
then laughed out loud. 

This had to be worked out, practically to the exact second if it was going 
to come off as Cheri had planned. First off, she had to give Michael just a 
little more time than usual.... 

Cheri punched a button on the inter-office communicator. "Carmine? You 
ready?" Cheri took out a nail file and meditatively filed the edge of a 
fingernail until Carmine came in to take her place. Then, unlike her usual 
routine, Cheri went to the elevator, going down only one floor to alert some 
of the other girls working in the building, some of whom, she suspected, 
knew Michael Blade quite well. 

Cheri went to several offices and things began to take on the look of the 
pied piper of Hamlin. By the time she returned to her business office there 
was a knot of eight women with her. They went through the door that led to 
the freight elevator, then boarded it. 

Angelo didn't know what the hell was going on as he saw the veritable lynch 
mob of women approaching on the little television screen. He scratched his 
head and mumbled something about women's lib having finally gone too far. 

"C'mon, Angelo," Cheri said, you might as well join us for the fun!" 

Michael Blade had arrived at his truck ahead of Cheri, and wondered where 
the fuck she was. Well, it wasn't the first time she had been late, but he 
decided it wouldn't be a good idea to get on her case about his tight 
schedule, and all that. She had seemed to be in a bit of a mood lately, and 
in fact he was a little afraid that he was going to lose the chick, and then 
he'd have to go through all the trouble of scoring another little morning 
fuck in the Portland Plaza building, and that might take a few days. 
Besides, Cheri was a good little lay, and it would be hard to find a chick 
with tits as nice as hers. In addition to that she was friends with Angelo, 
the security guard, and Michael was pretty sure that Angelo was in no mood 
to be doing him any favors if Cheri wasn't somehow part of the equation. 
Michael climbed into the van via the side door and then went into the back. 

Yeah, he'd better start treating that little chickie just a little nicer, or 
she might decide to dump him. For starters, he guessed he could have done 
better in giving her what she wanted, pay a little more attention to whether 
she had come or not. That wouldn't be all that hard ... Shit, she was a nice 
little screw.... 

Michael went into the back of the van and arranged the blanket on the floor, 
moving a few parcels aside. Maybe, he thought, I could even bring her a 
bunch of flowers, or something. That would probably cheer her up; chicks 
like flowers, after all, for some strange reason ... Yeah, she is a pretty 
cute little fuck. In Michael's mind's eye he could see a composite picture 
of some of the times that Cheri had been spread out on the floor of the van, 
her dress hiked up around her waist and her panties discarded to one side. 
Often times she would pull her dress down and let those big, soft boobs 
erupt from their cups, spilling those big, pink-capped mounds out to be 
fondled and suckled by him. It would definitely be hard to locate a nicer 
set of titty, all right, and she was worth keeping if only on that account. 

Michael sat down on the blanket and undid his belt, then slid his shorts and 
underwear down. His rod was pretty limp, and he didn't exactly want to have 
Cheri see him with anything but a big, manly boner between his legs, so he 
took his cock in his hand and started to gently work it. His thoughts 
focused in on what lay between Cheri's spread legs, that sweet, wide, 
pink-glistening slash all surrounded by baby-fine pussy hair, and he started 
to stroke his cock, pretending that his peter was shoved deep up her hole, 
being clutched and milked by the tight, slick walls of her cunt. Yeah, baby, 
yeah, Michael thought, that's the way. He could feel his cock hardening in 
his hand, and it wouldn't be long until it was just the way it should be to 
impress Cheri. Maybe today they would try something a little different, 
maybe a little tighter ... Michael thought about the little pink pucker of 
Cheri's ass-hole, and debated with himself about whether that was his 
prick's destiny this fine morning. It would feel awfully nice to have his 
bone shoved up that tight bunghole of hers again, but would she enjoy it as 
much? Remember, he thought, that chick may be slipping away a little bit, so 
for a few days you're going to have to humor her, give her what she wants 
... Michael decided that maybe he'd better give her something a little more 
traditional. He'd give her a standard missionary position fuck ala mode, but 
to make it just a little more special he'd be sure to eat her out first, 
give her the whole fucking nine yards with his mouth. He didn't have all the 
time in the world to waste, so he'd have to cut that off after a while, but 
he was sure that Cheri would enjoy it anyway, even if it was only for a 
minute or two. And when he screwed her, he'd make a point to not get in such 
a hurry ... This time, for the first and only and he hoped last time, he 
would make it a point to give her an orgasm. That would keep her satisfied 
for a week or two, anyway.... By this time Michael's pud had turned into a 
firm rod cradled in his hand. His prick was hard and standing straight 
upright, his balls hard and nut-like and ready to fire off a burst of sperm 
into the first available hole, be it keyhole, knothole, or whatever.... 

That's the way he thought, admiring his own dick as he gently frigged it in 
his fingertips, pleased with the way the head was engorged and purplishly 
glistening, now if only that fucking bitch Cheri would fucking get here so I 
could do something with the fucking thing! 

And that was when Cheri did arrive, along with the little group of women 
that had now grown to eleven, not including Angelo, who was trailing up the 
rear. She swung the rear doors to the van opened and announced: 

"Introducing Michael Blade, superstud extraordinaire in his last world 
performance at the Portland Plaza!" 

Michael was so stunned to see the doors to the van swing open, and to see 
the wide-eyed stares of the eleven women and one man, that all he could do 
was to sit there. He still held his hard prick in his hand, but his 
expression was one of complete disbelief and shock. 

And then the laughter began. It began as a single chuckle, but the sounds of 
amusement grew until the whole group were guffawing their asses off, the 
sound reverberating, echoing in the truck bay. Michael Blade could feel his 
hard prick begin to wither in his fingers, growing cooler, growing smaller. 
In a matter of moments he was holding a little, limp worm that looked almost 
as pathetic as the expression that he had on his face. 

If that wasn't enough, that was when the flashbulbs went off. Three of the 
women had brought cameras, and were using them to take pictures of Michael 
Blade that would appear on office bulletin boards, anonymously placed, all 
throughout the Portland Plaza building within the next few days. 

"Fuck!" Blade screamed, and then tried to get up, his arms flailing out, his 
legs unable to find purchase as the group continued to laugh and to take 
pictures. Finally he reeled over to the doors and slammed them shut and 
stood there fuming in the darkness of the van, his pants still hanging 
around his ankles. 

That fucking bitch! That fucking Cheri! He'd fucking get back at her! That 
ungrateful little slut, making a fool out of him before all of those broads, 
and Angelo, too! He'd fucking get back at her ... He'd.... 

Blade bent over and pulled his pants up. He pulled his zipper up and then 
buckled his belt. The fucking humiliation! Shit! Every one of those broads 
was a secretary for some business or other in the Plaza, and he had to deal 
with them every day! He'd get back, he'd.... 

He climbed into the driver seat, and then he turned to see the man's face 
staring at him through the open window. It was Angelo. 

"Nice show," Angelo said, smirking. "The ladies seemed to get a big kick out 
of it...." 

Blade just fumed, not saying anything. He fumbled in his pocket for the key 
to the ignition. 

"By the way, Michael, buddy...." Angelo said, smiling cordially, "if you're 
thinking of doing something to mess with Cheri to pay her back for this 
little expose of you today? Well, buddy, I wouldn't suggest it ... If I hear 
that you've annoyed her in the slightest, then I'm going to look you up. And 
I can be damned annoying, when I want to be...." 

Blade believed Angelo. 

* * * 

Cheri thanked Carmine and was back at her desk before her break was over. 
She was still chuckling about the look on Michael Blade's face when William 
St. John Kuhlman got off the elevator, carrying his briefcase, and 
approached her desk. 

He leaned close to Cheri's ear, so the two women waiting wouldn't hear what 
he was going to offer. "I heard that was quite a party at Veronica's the 
other night...." 

Cheri stiffened in her chair. "Oh, really?" Cheri said, coolly. 

"Yes. At least that's what I heard. A friend of mine heard a couple of the 
girls at the party talking about it at a ... a bar, and just happened to 
mention to me that you were at Veronica's party. It didn't break up until 
the following morning, did it?" 

Cheri didn't say anything. Well, she thought, so much for living a secret 
life! 

"You know," Kuhlman said, "I've heard those parties of Veronica's get pretty 
wild...." 

Cheri stood up. She didn't have to take this kind of shit from this 
sawed-off shithead, not anymore, she didn't.... 

She started to walk toward the rear doors and Kuhlman followed her, 
practically hanging on to her. 

"Yes," Kuhlman continued, "I've heard those parties of Veronica's are pretty 
wild; those lesbian parties...." 

That was when Cheri turned to Kuhlman and delivered a punch that would have 
made Sugar Ray Leonard proud. Kuhlman literally took to the air, then 
skidded across the plush carpeting on his ass for a few feet to crash into a 
potted plant that fell over on him, dumping dirt into his lap. 

"Yes," Cheri said thoughtfully, "it was a pretty wild party...." 

The timing could hardly have been any more perfect. Johnny Dearer had just 
gotten out of the elevator and was approaching Cheri's desk when he stood 
stock still and let events take their course. Hell, he didn't even know 
Kuhlman, but Kuhlman had given him a ration of shit a few times about being 
late, and that kind of shit. So, it was with some pleasure that Johnny 
watched Cheri cock her fist and let old Kuhlman have it right in the kisser 
in as good an imitation of a lumberjack's roundhouse as he had ever seen, 
outside of a lumber mill, that is. 

"Damn," Johnny Dearer mumbled under his breath as Cheri walked by him, 
smiling from ear-to-ear, "that's one hell of a fuckin' woman! 

* * * 

From the reaction of Bob and Betty when Cheri arrived, they must have 
planned it all out. 

Cheri drove into the driveway and noted that both of their cars were sitting 
there. She prepared for the inevitable confrontation, running through her 
mind what she was going to say, how she was going to deal with the anger and 
the accusations that were likely to occur. 

Cheri opened the door and walked in. Bob and Betty were sitting on the 
living room couch. That, by itself, was not unusual. The fact that they were 
sitting there naked was. 

"Did I interrupt something?" Cheri said, recalling the time when she and 
Betty had hurriedly gotten dressed so that Bob wouldn't find out they had 
been fucking. 

Betty smiled. "Not at all." 

Bob smiled, too, and Cheri wondered if she was going crazy. "No, Cheri," he 
said, "we were expecting ... waiting for you...." 

Bob and Betty walked over to Cheri, and she scrutinized their bodies as they 
approached, looking at Bob's cock hanging half-hard from his hairy crotch, 
at the enticing bobbing of Betty's little, knob-like boobs and the swaying 
of her hips as she approached. When they got next to Cheri each of them took 
one of her hands and led her toward the stairway. 

"We talked it over," Betty said. 

"We decided we were stupid to get on your case," Bob added. 

"It was none of our business who-or how-you were fucking. It was just 
jealousy on our part, because we both care about you so much...." 

"And," Bob said, "we hope you'll forget all about it. We want to make it up 
to you...." 

And make it up to her they did. They led her up the stairs and into Betty's 
room. Betty was ordinarily not a great housekeeper but she had obviously 
tried to make her room as inviting as possible, even going so far as to put 
a brand-new coverlet on the bed. 

They led Cheri on to the bed, had her lay down with all of her clothes on, 
and then proceeded to do everything either of them knew how to make her feel 
wonderful, and they succeeded. 

Each of them started at the opposite end of Cheri's prone body, working 
toward the center of her. They took it slow, so very slow. Bob removed her 
shoes and then started to work on Cheri's feet, kissing and licking them, 
sucking each individual toe in turn, while Betty started at Cheri's head, 
kissing and licking her hairline, moving steadily downward. Cheri was so 
flabbergasted, yet pleased, that all she could do was to let them have their 
way with her. Bob seemed to be enjoying Cheri's toes, her feet, her ankles, 
caressing them, moving back and forth between them, that he was in no hurry 
to move onward and upward. Betty, on the other hand, had already progressed 
to Cheri's pretty face. She began to slowly and languorously kiss Cheri's 
eyelids, her cheeks, her forehead, then she dropped down to nibble at 
Cheri's earlobes. Cheri already felt like she was at a fever pitch of 
excitation when Betty really upped the ante by snaking her wet tongue into 
Cheri's ear, panting into it, dodging it and diving and twirling it, sending 
shudders of pleasure all throughout Cheri's body. 

"You know, you guys don't really have to do this, you know you don't owe me 
anything...." Cheri protested, only to have Betty say: 

"We think we do owe you something, Cheri ... Now, just enjoy it...." 

And so enjoy it Cheri did. 

Betty paused at Cheri's mouth to kiss her, letting her tongue dive in and 
wrestle with the other woman's tongue, while Bob worked steadily higher with 
his own tongue, laving Cheri's ankles, then calves, then knees with great 
care and no hurry at all. Betty did not stay long at Cheri's mouth, but 
lowered her kisses and licks to Cheri's neck, kissing and licking until the 
other woman was panting, then her kisses spiraled downward. Betty unbuttoned 
Cheri's blouse to the pleasure of her and Bob, then helped her slide out of 
it, leaving her only in her bra and skirt. Then Betty began to kiss the top 
portions of Cheri's tits, exposed outside of the bra cups, not pushing her 
attentions too far, still leaving the bra on until Cheri had wrapped her 
fingers in Betty's hair and was begging, pushing Betty's face into her tits, 
aching for her to mold them in her hands, to suck the tormented nipples. 
Betty obliged. 

"Turn over," she said, and Cheri turned on her side while Betty undid the 
clasp to her bra. Bob took the opportunity to switch over to the back of 
Cheri's legs with his licking, then reached up to unzip her skirt. As Betty 
peeled Cheri's bra off of her, Bob slid her skirt down her legs and then 
off. Both of them were really getting excited, not to mention Cheri! 

Cheri remained lying on her side as Bob brought his kisses and his tongue 
within inches of her ass; Betty licked and kissed, carefully withholding her 
hands from Cheri's breasts until they felt that she was right at the edge of 
going berserk with lust, and then it was as if the floodgates had burst and 
all of that sex came tumbling out. 

Bob went right between Cheri's ass-cheeks, kissing her right through her 
panties, licking the long crack of her ass right through the silken 
covering. Cheri was gasping and moaning, bucking her ass into Bob's face so 
that he got a noseful of her earthy musk. It was enough to make him want 
more, much more. Betty's hand and mouth were going wild on Cheri's big, 
moldable boobs, her fingers working the nipples, her mouth doing the same. 
Betty was like a starving person, starving for those tits, those beautiful 
pink nipples. She sucked, she licked until Cheri's nipples went tight, taut, 
the little tips standing up hard and quivering. 

Bob dragged Cheri's panties down and feasted, his tongue going right into 
her grasping ass-hole, diving in, swirling, pummeling into the tight, 
puckered little hole while Cheri bucked and moaned. Bob spread Cheri's 
ass-cheeks and made like a starving man at a feast, reveling in the taste, 
the smell, chewing and kissing and licking until Cheri was out of her mind 
with pleasure-and then he fucked her. 

Sidling up next to her his bone was already on red alert, and he angled the 
upsticking staff right at her pussy. As Betty swung herself around and Cheri 
clamped her legs in her arms to give her friend '69", Bob slid the snout of 
his bone up flush with the saliva-lubed, and the cunt-juice-lubed lips of 
Cheri's twat. With a single burrowing stroke he sank his prick into Cheri, 
embedding it deep, feeling it stiffly lodged up into her guts, and then, as 
Betty and Cheri humped each other, taking full mouthfuls of each other's 
dripping twats, Bob began to stroke and to bang. 

With each thrust Cheri grunted out her pleasure, her body jolted as his bone 
slammed deep, and the sensation was increased by the jabbing, torturous 
dodging of Betty's hard, wet tongue as it slapped and punished Cheri's clit. 
Betty spread the wet salmon lips of Cheri's pussy and chewed, sucked and 
chewed and licked, each impact of her tongue sending Cheri's pussy into tiny 
shivering fits, while Cheri cried out her pleasure into the muffling flesh 
folds of Betty's cunt. 

At that rate it didn't take a hell of a long time until all three of them 
were hovering at the edge of their orgasms, pumping those last wild strokes, 
suspended in some timeless moment where the slashing joy of their cum waited 
to overtake them, to blow them apart with ecstasy. 

Betty clamped down hard on Cheri's clit, vibrating the mound of her mons 
pubis with two fingers, then Cheri reached around to ram her index finger 
deep and to twiddle it in the far reaches of Betty's ass-hole like some tiny 
prick come to roost there. Bob bellowed with joy, his hands going wild, 
flailing, grasping, slapping Cheri's tits as his juice sprang forth sizzling 
out of his cock and splattered deep, splattered deliciously into Cheri's 
cunt, and as that burning juice sizzled into her own orgasm overtook her and 
she gasped and wailed and gargled her joy into her friend's wet, grasping 
pussy. 

 VIII 

Cheri was sitting at her dressing table without a single care in the world, 
touching up her makeup, making sure that everything, just everything was 
perfect for her and for Al on this incredible, special day. 

This, after all, was the day that all of her adventures of late had added up 
to, the day, she realized, that she had been waiting for all her life. She 
looked in the mirror once again, for what must have been the five hundredth 
time that day, to assess her appearance, to make sure that she was as 
perfect as she knew Al hoped she would be. Yes, she thought, I'm ready. 

The beautiful girl in the mirror smiled back from the mirror, too, radiant 
in her ivory lace bride's gown with the seed pearls that adorned the neck 
and the bodice. Nothing but the best for my wife, Al Monte had said, and he 
had meant it; the dress had set him back thousands, but he had insisted even 
over Cheri's protests that nothing that imagine was necessary for her. And 
now Cheri was intent that it should be the same for Al, nothing but the best 
for him. They would have a beautiful ceremony that would go off without a 
single hitch, and then, tonight, they would fuck like no one had ever fucked 
before. Nothing but the best. 

It was amazing, truly amazing, how things had worked out, even against all 
the crazy, impossible odds. For one thing, there was Al. If, when Cheri had 
first met Al Monte in the office, someone had said to her, "That dude is 
going to be your husband ... ," she would have never, could have never 
believed it for a moment. The way she saw Al then, he was too old, too fat, 
too ethnic; he was nothing at all like the pseudo-California beach boys that 
Cheri had always favored, the muscular jocks who had never had much to say 
and that Cheri had been thankful that they didn't. Michael Blade, for 
instance; the ass-hole who had pulled a quickie for her every morning for 
God knows how long. Al was nothing like Michael Blade, nothing whatsoever, 
and for that she was awfully grateful. 

You had to know Al to really appreciate him, to really get the feel for him. 
Al was ... Al ... Well, he kind of grew on you, Cheri thought. It took 
awhile, as it did with some people. She remembered the look on Betty's face 
when she had first introduced Al to her at a party they had thrown in honor 
of their engagement, the look that said: "Him?" Well, yes, him. And Bob, it 
was the same way. She knew that Bob just didn't have a clue why she had 
chosen Al and not him. Didn't he have everything on Al, except for bags of 
money? The fact was, it didn't matter. She had chosen, and she wasn't going 
back on her choice, she wasn't even looking back. 

Veronica had sure had some choice comments to make about Al-she had known Al 
in a business capacity for quite some time-but Cheri knew that all of those 
sour grapes stemmed from jealousy. She knew that Veronica was really 
starting to enjoy the hot relationship that had developed between the both 
of them, especially after the way it had intensified at the lesbo party, and 
was sorry to see it end. If it had been up to Veronica, that round of wild 
sister fucking-sister parties would have gone on into the next century. 

Veronica even admitted, although without a trace of spite, that she was in 
love with Cheri and had been for a very long time, but that whatever it was 
that Cheri wanted, she could live with it. As she had put it, fuck, she 
would have to! She didn't have any choice! They could still be, she hoped, 
friends and business associates. Cheri had told her, honestly, that that 
could never end, at least the friends part. 

Her life as a secretary was destined to terminate after she was Mrs. Al 
Monte, hell, it would have been pretty hard to work in the same office as 
Kuhlman after she had decked him! 

And then, after the crazy and extended fucking bout with Betty and Bob that 
signalled that they had forgiven her, that they had finally understood why 
she had acted the way she had, there had been that tearful reunion with 
them. Shit, even Bob was on the verge of crying! Betty had admitted that she 
too was in love with Cheri, had been for forever and a day, and made pretty 
much the same commitment as did Veronica, that the marriage was not going to 
sever their friendship. Betty said that they would always remain best 
friends, and Cheri told her that that was the way it would have to be. 
Sometimes in this life you don't get to keep your cake and eat it too, was 
the phrase that Betty had chosen to describe the change in their 
relationship. 

Al's divorce was finalized under the "able" representation of William St. 
John Kuhlman, and Al didn't even seem to much mind that the ex-Mrs. Monte 
took him to the cleaners financially. Now that Cheri had said she would 
marry him, he said it seemed like his whole life was starting over and he 
just couldn't give a fuck about losing a few bucks. 

As Cheri sat in front of the mirror, playing with, making sure that the veil 
was affixed just right, she thought she heard the door opening, then 
disregarded it. She wasn't sure, then realized it was probably one of the 
bride's maids and went back to primping and making sure every detail was 
just right. It wasn't one of the bride's maids, however. 

Looking into the mirror, Cheri saw her step into the room. Cheri didn't 
really know how to react seeing the woman there because, somehow, she knew 
that Betty had not just come to wish her the best on her marriage, and to 
give her a friendly parting kiss. That just wasn't Betty's style to do 
things that way. Betty, without a doubt, had something else up her sleeve 
and, frankly, Cheri was not too certain that she wanted to find out what it 
was. 

But Cheri just had to smile. It was Betty, all right, with that wild 
mischievous smile of hers, and that challenging stance that she knew so 
well, standing there in the doorway, looking totally out of place in the 
dress she had worn to the wedding. This was possibly the first time that 
Cheri had ever seen Betty in a dress in all the time she had known her! No, 
Betty hadn't changed, she thought, but Cheri had. 

Cheri turned and said, "Betty ... It's so fucking good to see you! I'm glad 
you're here, I'm glad you're here to see your fuckup friend off...." Cheri 
tried to sound as devil-may-care as Betty looked, but somehow her voice 
betrayed her concern. 

"C'mon, Cheri ... You're no bigger of a fuckup than I am, but you've got the 
happy ending to fall back on! I'm the one who blew it by never telling you 
that I was fucking crazy in love with you...." 

Cheri paused. It was a little difficult to face because, after all, she had 
loved Betty, too. She started to add "in another way" but then, like one 
other time when she had wondered about her motives, she questioned whether 
it had been in another way. Maybe she had loved Betty in exactly the same 
way that Betty had loved her, in exactly the same way that Veronica had 
loved her, too. Every time Cheri thought about it she got confused: was she 
a lesbian? Wasn't she? It finally had gotten to the point where she didn't 
even care any longer. 

She did know one thing; that she had something else entirely planned. 

"Anyway," Betty said, "I didn't come here to try and fuck up your plans, 
make you cry and make you ruin your beautiful fucking makeup job, or 
anything...." 

Cheri had to laugh out loud to keep from crying. "But I was just remembering 
those times we had, and I was thinking about what the house would be like 
without you stinking it up with your paints, and you bitching about all of 
the teddy bears laying around and all that, and I decided...." 

Cheri waited. "You decided?" 

"Well," Betty said, "I decided to come here before you tied the knot, and 
maybe have one last time with you, maybe to make one last play. I thought 
that there could be something special...." 

To Cheri there was only one little problem. It sounded too good, it sounded 
too fucking good. She thought that she would be unable to summon up the 
words to tell Betty that she couldn't, but she blurted out: 

"Betty, I can't, I...." 

But it was too late. Betty was next to her now and holding her close, 
holding her tightly, and her hands were all over the other woman's ass, 
mauling her ass-cheeks right through the billowing fabric of the wedding 
gown. Cheri was still trying weakly to protest, but now the protesting was 
not coming easy because she wasn't sure that this wasn't what she wanted, 
too. If only because Betty deserved it, if only because she loved Betty so 
fucking much! 

Betty brought her mouth to Cheri's neck and pulled her close, grinding her 
crotch into the other woman's. Then Cheri just let everything in the world 
go. She pushed back her veil and put her mouth to Betty's, letting her 
tongue slide between the other woman's open lips and taste that delicious 
mouth, to let her hands grab Betty, too. Betty ground her crotch against 
Cheri and she could feel the mound of Betty's warm pubis right through the 
folds of the wedding gown. Reaching down and, gasping as Betty licked her 
mouth and neck, she put her hand on Betty's crotch and kneaded it hard 
through the dress, running her fingers over the other woman's pussy, 
squeezing it, feeling distinctly that hot hairy bulge as it pressed against 
her right through the fabric. 

"Betty," she husked out, "fuck me ... Fuck me the way you fucked me before 
... Fuck me one last time ... Fuck me like we never have before ... Fuck me 
the best...." 

Betty pulled the bodice of Cheri's wedding dress down and once again feasted 
her eyes on those huge tits that she loved. Her hands molded and raked them 
as she kissed, licked, worshipped the big, blush-pink nipples, their spikes 
jabbing outward and quivering stiffly in the air as Betty molded her friends 
boobs in her hands. Cheri's crotch was pounding involuntarily against her 
friend's pussy and now she was begging: 

"Fuck me, Betty; please, fuck me...." 

Betty was angling around her and Cheri's hands went out to the dressing 
table to support herself. 

"The door...." she said, anxiously, "if anyone comes through the door...." 

Betty smirked. "I locked it, roomie...." and then she lifted up the back of 
Cheri's dress, exposing the other woman's silken clad ass-cheeks, her hose 
and white garter clad legs, tossing the silken train to one side. Cheri felt 
Betty's fingers working over her already-hot ass-cheeks, peeling down her 
panties to give her a much better eyeshot of the woman's naked ass, better 
access to her ass and cunt that she was so desperately hungry for. 

"There's sure a lot of this dress to contend with," Betty said, laughing, 
and then she knelt down below and Cheri felt her swipe her hot tongue up and 
down the already humid split of her ass, over and over. Cheri gasped and 
rose on her toes as her friend angled that tongue of hers lower to probe 
into into her ass, into her pussy, eating, chewing, sucking, gasping out her 
own pleasure as her friend ground her anus into her face, her nose. Cheri 
leaned farther over and Betty buried her face into the other woman's ass, 
gasping, grinding her teeth and lips into Cheri's pink puckered anus, into 
the beginning of her pussy slash. 

Cheri wriggled with the glorious sensations, her ass and thighs minutely 
palpitating with pleasure. She could feel her pleasure rising, building.... 

"Yeah, baby," she begged, "shove it in ... Shove that tongue of yours into 
me, shove it deep, shove it hard,. . Eat my ass out...." Betty nuzzled her 
nose, her face into Cheri's ass, and she did let her tongue slide in, burrow 
deeply into the tightness and the fragrant musk of the tight pink little 
hole. She toyed, twiddled at the pucker of her ass-hole with her snaking 
tongue, then she lifted her fingers and let them slide into the other girl's 
cunt, wedging them deep, burrowing them in, sliding them in and out of the 
wet, fragrant channel, frictioning them up and down and letting the digit of 
her thumb dawdle Cheri's clit until the other woman was ready to scream. 
Cheri's ass was wobbling and jerking involuntarily and her cunt felt hotter 
than it had ever felt in her life. Cheri grabbed her own tits, satisfying 
herself, running her fingers over one naked, exposed boob, twisting, 
distorting the nipples in her fingertips, and began to buck her hips as 
Betty ate out her ass and slid her long, talented fingers into her pussy 
crack, jerking it in and out, driving it hard up her slot. Wow! She felt 
like her pussy was red hot, steaming, each stroke of the other woman's 
driving fingers, of her tongue burning the inside of her pussy up and 
practically driving her crazy! 

"I just had to prove it to you one more time...." Betty moaned, ramming her 
fingers into Cheri's cunthole, pulling her mouth away from Cheri's ass-hole 
only long enough to get the words out. 

"Prove ... Prove what?" Cheri gasped, turning , around to gaze down on the 
woman kneeling behind her. "Babe, you had nothing to prove...." 

"I just had to prove that I loved you...." Betty gasped, almost whimpering, 
and then reburied her face, her fingers going into overdrive into the other 
woman's pussy. Harder, harder, each of the strokes of her fingers were 
whacking and slapping into Cheri's wet pussylips, and the end of those 
fingers were kissing the far wall of her twat! At the same time Betty was 
burrowing her tongue up Cheri's ass, loving every second of it! Ramming her 
fingers into Cheri, she was picking up speed, arching and flailing her 
fingers high up inside of Cheri's cunt, tickling the walls with her waggling 
fingers, each stroke of her hand practically taking Cheri off of her feet, 
making her jerk and wobble as she held onto the edge of the dressing table 
to keep from falling over. Those fingers up inside Cheri were going wild, 
and with every motion they seemed to transmit electric shocks right through 
Cheri's body, her brain, until she was gasping, crying, going out of her 
mind with pleasure. 

Cheri was gasping and yelping with each stroke, and suddenly she was 
possessed with a coolness, a thoughtfulness that made her wish that those 
strokes could have gone on forever. With Betty she knew they would ... 
Almost! The moment seemed poised, timeless. All she could hear was her own 
heart thumping and Betty's gasping breaths as she continued to ream out her 
ass-hole with her tongue and to friction Cheri's pussy out with her fingers, 
like she was giving her one hard, final, loving cunt' polishing that was 
going to have to last her for a very long time. She felt her twat and anus 
and her ass-cheeks clenching, grasping, and then she could feel the waves of 
delicious fire starting to pour up through her crotch in clutching fingers, 
like she had suddenly dipped her ass into a bucket of scalding water. And 
then Betty hung onto Cheri's hot, trembling legs for dear life and took her 
that last, long mile, panting, her tongue going smooth and wet and hard and 
fast like a pile driver working up, squirming up into Cheri's ass-hole, and 
her fingers jamming, driving, pounding into her cunt until she just couldn't 
take it any longer. She writhed on the end of Betty's driving fingers, on 
End of Betty's driving tongue and then she gasped back a scream behind her 
teeth as she sizzled with orgasm after orgasm going in shockwaves through 
her body, straight to her brain. Cheri yelped and begged for more as her 
orgasm burnt through her cunt, through her tits, through her brain, and 
Betty just kept ramming those fingers and tongue hard into home until long 
after her friend had cum and cum again. Somehow she just could not bring 
herself to pull those fingers, that tongue free from Cheri for the last 
time. 

* * * 

When Cheri walked down the aisle of the church later that afternoon, no one 
knew the meaning of that blissful little smile that was on her face. No one 
except Betty. 


THE END
