Five minutes later, I slip into the hot tub and lean back with a sigh of relaxation, settling myself in my favorite spot. I close my eyes and feel the hot water and the jets all over my body, indulging myself as always in the sensations. I hear the door to the house close and open my eyes again. Charlotte and May are walking out in big fluffy robes, chattering and giggling as they cross the patio to me. I smile both with satisfaction and anticipation as they get closer. The hot tub is mounted flush with the surrounding concrete patio, and so I am looking up at them as they arrive at the edge.

“Hey, Tiger,” says Charlotte.

“You ready?” asks May.

I nod, grinning, and they each drop their robes.

Charlotte is wearing a white string bikini with triangles of fabric that barely cover her nipples, and May’s is a similar style. They take each other by the hand and sit on the opposite edge of the hot tub, dangling their feet in the water. They both look at me and grin, then turn to look at each other. Charlotte, on my left, puts a hand to May’s face and tucks her hair behind her ear. May smiles at her prettily, and there’s a long moment when they both start to imperceptibly lean in closer but before the magnetism reaches critical mass. Charlotte bites her lower lip and May’s eyes are drawn to it before looking back up into Charlotte’s.

I feel my cock under the water fill with blood and reach full hardness before their lips touch, and when they do, it twitches. The lights from the hot tub come up through the roiling water and dance little shadows and ripples across their faces as their lips come together. They kiss, their beautiful faces joined at the lips, slowly and gently as they did before on my bed when I first walked into the room. I watch in awe at the sight, taking in their exquisite features, their fine jawlines and bare necks, the way their cleavage catches the last light of day as the twilight fades.

They part briefly, opening their eyes and looking at one another. May rolls her lips into her mouth and Charlotte licks her own, looking down as May’s lips reappear and fill to their fullest pout. Charlotte darts forward hungrily to kiss them at that moment, making May smile and put a hand to Charlotte’s head to steady them both. They kiss more urgently, things heating up quickly this time, and I eye their tits with great desire to see them uncovered once again. To my surprise, May takes a more dominant role and is the first to stray and start kissing down Charlotte’s neck. Charlotte’s eyes open and she watches me with a small smile as May trails kisses down her neck, across her collarbone and down to her breasts. May gently pulls one of Charlotte’s bikini strings, shifting the fabric off of her nipple to one side, and I watch with bated breath as May takes Charlotte’s nipple into her mouth. Charlotte’s eyes close briefly, and then she looks down to watch May as well.

May is flicking her tongue out at Charlotte’s nipple, curling around it and prodding it back and forth, before taking it all the way into her mouth and sucking it. Charlotte takes her head gently in one arm, holding her in place and moaning slightly. May then licks up Charlotte’s chest, neck, and back to her mouth where she kisses her again, deeply. Charlotte gives back as much as she takes, her tongue swiping out across May’s lips and slipping between them.

I can’t help myself any longer. I push off my from seat and float across the hot tub. They are fully engaged kissing each other and I kneel up on the seats on the far side and take one of their breasts in each of my hands. I pull fabric aside and grab a handful of each of their tits, careful to be a little softer on May’s nipple than I am with Charlotte’s. I lean forward and latch onto Charlotte’s with my mouth as they continue to make out right above me. I swirl my tongue around Charlotte’s nipple, sucking hard, before switching over to May’s. I glance up as I move over and watch their tongues dancing between their parted lips. I cup May’s left tit with my right hand as my left continues to massage Charlotte’s and I gently brush my tongue over May’s erect nipple. I use the tip of my tongue to push it back and forth like a toggle switch and I feel May’s breath catch as I do it. I back up to watch them kiss, squeezing and wiggling their boobs with my hands, and standing in the hot tub, my cock now protruding from my hips a few inches out of the water.

“Mmm,” says Charlotte. “That’s my cue.”

She slips her bikini off and so does May as they both ease into the water and sit on the edge of their respective seats to either side. They look up at me and I take a half step back to give them room to maneuver. Charlotte takes my cockhead into her mouth and aggressively shoves her head back and forth a few times before taking it in her hand and offering it to May. May’s eyes flare open slightly as she bites her lip and leans in. She takes my cock into her mouth delicately, exploring it with her lips and tongue, without suction or much pressure. It makes me shiver with excitement seeing her full lips move down my cock, and I feel her tongue grazing back and forth underneath the tip and shaft. May’s eyes are closed but Charlotte’s are glued to May’s face, and when May does open her eyes it’s to look at Charlotte and not me. Something about that really turns me on and it’s all I can do not to shove my hips forward and demand more pressure on my sensitive dick. I’m so primed and ready at this point that I can barely contain myself from taking a fistful of Charlotte’s hair and fucking her throat for all I’m worth.

But why contain yourself, Darling? 🫦

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I arrive home from the grocery store and bring the bags in from my car in the garage. The summer is gone and what passes for autumn in Southern California is here, and I still sweat far more than I want to from simple errands such as these. I come from a place where heated garages are a luxury to ease the winter all the way to this place where a cooled garage would be a blessing to be envied. After putting away the groceries I walk out and dive headfirst, fully clothed minus my shoes, into the deep end of the pool. It feels amazing, and I bless the cool water that refuses to rise to the sun’s taunts. I use the outdoor shower and strip off my wet clothes, leaving them on a chair to dry and grabbing a towel out of the cupboard by the shower. I dry off and toss it in the laundry on my way up the stairs to our bedroom, which is the first time I wonder where Charlotte has gotten to.

I open the bedroom door and blink. It appears that there are two Charlottes laying on the bed, with matching white tank tops and blue denim booty shorts. I shake my head, look back outside the door as if checking an address, then look back at the bed. Two blonde, busty, blue-eyed, curvaceous, beaming women looking back at me.

“I finally did it,” says one of them. “I cloned myself.”

Identical make-up, clothing, and even similar massive jugs create a convincing illusion, but upon another inspection, obviously the woman on the left is my Charlotte and the one on the right is simply an incredibly stacked and beautiful blonde of similar height and body type.

They thrust their chests out at me and I notice writing on the tank tops.

“Happy Day Birth Jack?” I read, puzzled.

The woman on the right giggles and Charlotte rolls her eyes. Her tank has Happy and then Day on a second line.

“You’re supposed to read them together. When we mash our titties close—”

They sit up enough to do this, pressing their torsos side by side and indeed making an absolutely commendable display of boob-age for me. Four enormous hooters lined up and now the words read, “Happy Birthday Jack,” left to right on two rows.

“This is my friend May,” says Charlotte. “But for tonight, she’s gonna answer to ‘Charlotte’ and I’m gonna be Charlie. Sound good?”

I realize my mouth is hanging open.

“I think he’s good with it,” says May, pointing at my cock which has thickened to its full girth. I had completely forgotten that I was naked as I grappled with the new information being presented to me by my eyes, and now that I am aware once again, I find that it changes nothing. I stand there with Charlotte grinning at me and May looking back and forth between my cock and my eyes, and the moment feels like it requires input or affirmation from me.

“Whoa.”

It’s the best I can think of, and they both giggle.

“We’re here to fulfill your wildest fantasies and dreams,” says Charlotte, putting a hand on May’s body and turning to face her.

“Anything you’ve ever wished to have two of Charlotte for, we’re here to do,” says May, looking into my eyes and then turning to Charlotte.

“Anything you’ve ever imagined,” says Charlotte, cupping one of May’s breasts through her tank top and leaning in.

“Anything you’ve dreamed of but never said,” says May, meeting Charlotte’s lips with her own.

They kiss softly, sensuously, close-lipped and gentle, Charlotte’s hands on May’s waist and May’s on Charlotte’s shoulders. The kisses they exchange are sweet, small and brief, almost delicate at first. As their lips touch and withdraw at slightly different angles, they seem to be tasting each other, sampling something fragile and precious that would disappear if handled carelessly. Then Charlotte brings both hands up to squeeze May’s large breasts, and May puts her hands on Charlotte’s waist, and the kisses become deeper. They begin to linger and extend as Charlotte hefts May’s boobs and May slides her hands around to grab Charlotte’s ass, squeezing the flesh she finds there. May pulls Charlotte’s hips to her own and their breasts press together, and Charlotte puts a hand on May’s throat as they kiss. I feel a telltale tremor in my leg that tells me my arousal is reaching an overload point, which is hardly surprising given the circumstances.

They break their kiss with deep sighs, resting their foreheads together and looking into one another’s eyes. Then they look over at me.

“So,” says Charlotte.

“What’ll it be, daddy?” asks May.

I step into the room and walk toward the bed on legs that are already quite unsteady.

“Keep going,” I say, climbing onto the bed and leaning back against the pillows. I spread my legs wide, my cock sticking straight up and throbbing almost painfully, and they smile and go back to kissing one another.

There is more passion now, more insistence from the first, and May is the one to slide her hands up Charlotte’s belly this time in search of something to hold on to. She finds Charlotte’s boobs which look even larger in her slender hands and grabs them. I see her find Charlotte’s nipples and give them little tweaks, pulling slightly through the soft cotton fabric of the tank top. I long for those shirts to come off, long to see May latch on to a nipple, long to be myself buried in all four of these magnificent mammaries, but I choose to wait. I choose not even to touch myself for fear that I will prematurely ejaculate instantly in the face of this ultimate eroticism.

Charlotte’s tongue flicks out in between their lips, dipping quickly into May’s mouth before May’s can meet it. I watch their pink lips meet again and again, hear the wet sounds of their kisses and their breathing as they start to breathe more quickly. May is giving Charlotte’s breasts a lot of attention, and eventually gets impatient with the tank top blocking her access. She reaches down to the hem of the garment and pulls it up. Charlotte obliges by raising her arms over her head and the tank top goes away, revealing her massive breasts. May dives to them, kissing her curves and then going straight for a nipple. I watch her pink lips meet Charlotte’s pink nipple and see her tongue dart out to swirl around it. Charlotte’s erect nipple disappears into May’s mouth, and Charlotte moans, bringing her hands up through May’s hair and holding her head tightly. Charlotte looks at me with eyes heavy-lidded with lust and smiles slowly, no doubt pleased by my awed expression. May switches her attention to Charlotte’s other tit, using her off hand to squeeze the one she isn’t sucking on, and Charlotte moans and arches her back into May’s mouth, which is latched on and licking Charlotte’s nipple with real zest. I groan, and genuinely begin to worry that I’m going to have my first hands-free orgasm watching this.

“Come here,” I say, beckoning them to me. They turn and crawl over, each sliding a thigh over one of mine and putting their chests on my ribcage to bring their faces to mine. Their legs feel smooth and hot, Charlotte’s breasts pressing against my skin on my right and May’s fabric-clad breasts sliding against me, asserting their reality for the first time. They both look into my face with excitement, and Charlotte’s hand snakes down to wrap around my cock. I slide my hands up their backs and into their long, blonde hair.

“This is the best birthday present ever,” I say, kissing Charlotte deeply.

They look at each other and then back at me, and May bites her lower lip as Charlotte licks her own.

“Charlie,” I say, looking at Charlotte. “Suck my cock.” She slides down my body immediately with a dazzling smile. “Charlotte,” I say, looking at May. “Come here and let me get to know you.”

I grab May’s thigh and swing it over my hips, pulling her up and on top of me. She is beaming as she sits up and pulls her hair over her right shoulder, running her fingers through it slightly self-consciously.

“God damn,” I say, looking at her. “You are fucking gorgeous.”

She smiles and shrugs one shoulder adorably, and I place my hands on her waist.

“May I touch you?” I ask. “May I kiss you?”

May nods shyly and leans forward, placing a delicate kiss on my mouth, then another. Her lips are so soft and inviting, her eyes so blue, these first moments of contact with such a stunningly beautiful woman so thrilling, that I feel almost transported. She kisses me, then pulls back to look in my eyes, almost as if making minute adjustments to fine machinery and then stepping back to see the effect. An image of a Swiss clockmaker comes to my mind, the patience and skill of a true craftsman at work, and I see in her eyes a hesitance that turns to satisfaction. She arches her back into my chest, pressing her breasts to my skin, no doubt feeling the roughness of the fabric against her nipples and letting out the softest little moan, really just a breath of air.

May kisses me again, and I feel Charlotte’s tongue slide around my balls for the first time. She’s waited longer than she usually is capable of once I ask her to suck my cock, and is now going very, very slowly about the task. Charlotte knows the signs of my pleasure by now, and no doubt the quantity of pre-cum leaking from my cockhead clues her in to just how close I am to busting my nut, and no doubt she wants to make it last for me. Lately she’s become very interested in taking me to the edge and then riding along it as long as possible, which I very much benefit from but am usually frustrated by in the moment. But not today. Today I am with her in a desire to stretch, extend and in any way prolong the process.

I wrap my arms around May familiarly, holding her to me and kissing her with more fervor. She presses down on me and I feel that telltale roll of her body that communicates her arousal in the most elemental way. I slide my hands down to her ass and squeeze her cheeks through her Daisy Dukes. May moans softly into my mouth, and I try to control my own corresponding moan as Charlotte’s lips seal around my cockhead. My hands move up May’s warm back, feeling her smooth skin under my palms and slipping my hands under her tank top. I am wild to see her breasts, to engage with them and feel their warmth in my grasp. I bring my hands up under her shirt to her shoulders in the back, gripping them and pulling down toward my cock. I unconsciously roll my hips up, though not into May’s pussy— not yet— but Charlotte’s mouth. I hear and feel Charlotte moan onto my dick as she slides down further.

May puts her hands on my shoulders and pushes herself upright, then draws her arms down and crosses them to lightly grasp her fingers on the bottom of her tank top. She pulls it slowly, very slowly, up her stomach and pauses, smiling down at me, when she reaches the undersides of her enormous rack. I feel my eyes widen and my pulse quicken as my eyes flit between her eyes and her boobs, and she smiles wider before pulling her top off completely, freeing her giant tits for the first time. They wobble from side to side as she pulls the tank top through her hair and tosses it aside, leaning forward with her palms on my shoulders again, her tits dangling near my face. They hang, so round and full that I can hardly believe it, with perky nipples already erect and capping each just high of center. I can’t help myself, and I pull her down and bury my face in between them. She laughs, a high, clear sound, as I shake my head and unapologetically motorboat her massive jugs.

I bring both of my hands around and press her breasts into each side of my face, feeling their heat and smoothness, unable to resist for even a moment the magnetic force with which they compel me to action. Even my large hands are defeated by the sheer volume of boob that they are attempting to grapple with, and I am ecstatic at the challenge. I roll her flesh between my fingers and begin to lick and kiss the expanse of soft skin between them, working my way to her left nipple. Charlotte begins to bob her head more quickly and go deeper and I feel a little squirt of pre-cum leave me as I struggle to relax.

“Oh, yes,” May whispers as my tongue finds its way to flick her nipple. “They’re so sensitive, be— “

But it’s too late for that kind of talk. I latch on and make love to her breasts with my mouth, licking and sucking wildly as my own pleasure approaches its crescendo. I know that there’s some percentage of women that can cum from nipple play alone, though I’ve never found one, and based on May’s immediate shriek of pleasure, it looks like I’ve got one here. Her pussy pushes down hard into my gut, and she yanks my head back by my hair and plunges down to kiss me, shoving her tongue into my mouth as she cums. My hips thrust up and Charlotte plunges her head down all the way, and I’m blasting in her throat before I can fully sort out what’s happening. May is making out with me with ferocious passion, powering through her orgasm, and I’m shooting what feels like gallons of cum down Charlotte’s throat as she moans and rides my rocking hips which are trying their best to push my cock deeper into her body.

Oh, Darling, you’re not even halfway in yet…

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“What a fucking dream,” I say aloud.

I get out of bed and ball up my sheets, then head down the stairs to the laundry room. I add my sheets to a load that includes four towels without thinking about the significance of that number, start the washer, and walk back to the kitchen to have a drink of orange juice. I am standing there, the light from the fridge splashing out on my naked form, when I hear a voice from behind me.

“Straight from the carton, huh?”

I spray a bit of orange juice on the outside of the right hand door of the fridge in surprise and turn.

Kate is standing in the kitchen doorway, smirking at me in her pajamas from earlier, still with a missing button and therefore showing a lot of cleavage. She looks down at my package pointedly and then back up at me.

I try to cover myself with one hand but my cock is instantly hard again, and it’s futile. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I forgot you were here.”

“I heard you start the washing machine,” she says, walking past me to the counter and picking up a banana.

I look at the clock on the oven. It’s four thirty, earlier than I usually wake up but late enough that trying going back to sleep will be pointless. Especially in these circumstances.

“Yeah, I had to wash some sheets.” I put away the orange juice and drop my other hand to cover my package.

Let’s be sure you can find me for next time…

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“At four thirty,” she says. “I know you said you get up early, but wow. A commitment to cleanliness or just some... good dreams?” She giggles at my discomfort. “You really don’t need to bother covering up. We’re roomies! Shit happens!” As she says this, she shrugs in such a way that her arms push her breasts together, creating two spherical globes that squish together in the large window her loose top is showing.

Kate peels the banana and makes eye contact with me before inserting it a little too far, a little too slowly into her mouth before biting down.

I swallow and hear a dry click in my throat.

“So, what happens now?” she asks as she chews.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Are you going to go upstairs and jerk off, or should we stop pretending we aren’t going to be fucking like rabbits for the next three weeks?”

“The ‘stop pretending’ one,” I say. “That’s my vote.”

Kate grins. “Your shyness really is as endearing as Charlotte said it is.”

“Oh yeah?” I say, letting my hands drop from my crotch. “She told me I should wait till morning if I could.”

“And you did! I was starting to wonder what it was going to take. She didn’t tell me I had to wait till morning.”

“What did she tell you?” I ask

“She said, ‘He’s been fantasizing about you for years. Tease him until he’s ready to pop and then blow his fucking mind.’”

“That’s my girl,” I murmur, leaning back against the counter with my cock sticking up and out at an obscene angle.

“So what do you say?” she asks, unbuttoning another button on her shirt and licking the banana. “Should I blow your fucking mind?”

I notice the wrapped package on the end table that is from Charlotte for us. Kate follows my gaze and sets down her banana, clapping her hands excitedly.

“That’s right! It’s morning now, so we can open this.”

She crosses to the table, picks up the large package, and brings it back to set it down on the counter. I step forward, curious in spite of myself, as Kate rips off the wrapping. Inside is a box with a sheet of paper and two smaller boxes.

“’Welcome to the Sex Randomizer. Since you two have comparable sex drives and you’re going to be living together, I wanted to offer you this tool for your enjoyment,’” Kate reads aloud from the paper. “’In each of these boxes you will find slips of paper that contain locations, situations, sex acts, or other variables. In order to use them, you must each commit to pulling a slip of paper from the box and then follow through on what is written there, no matter what. For example, if one of you draws, “give head” and the other one draws, “car,” then the one who drew “give head” is committed to do so, in the car.’”

“Holy shit,” I say, looking at Kate, who is beaming.

“This is going to be so fun,” she says, then continues reading. “’There are no other rules. I love you both. I’ll be back on Christmas Eve. Until then, happy fucking!’”

Kate sets the paper down. “I do want to play this game,” she says. “But first, I feel so bad for how I’ve been teasing you. You were so valiant trying to stick to Charlotte’s suggestion and all I did was torment you.”

She walks around the counter and steps into my personal space. “Will you let me make good on it before we start the game?”

“Oh, I don’t— you don’t have to— “ I begin, but she cuts me off.

“I don’t know what Charlotte’s told you,” she says. “I’m kind of a submissive sometimes. I like for you to guide the experience and I get off on the fact that you’re doing what you want.”

Kate is very close to me now, standing so that my cock is sticking out just an inch away from her stomach.

“I realize I’m taking a more dominant role in this moment, which is why I point it out. Most of the time, I’m not. Most of the time, I like to be a... plaything.” She unbuttons the last two buttons on her shirt, and it drifts open, the flannel catching on her stiff nipples and not fully opening on its own.

“So this time, all I need from you is to nod your overstimulated head so that I can take care of you,” Kate finishes.

I nod my head, feeling like I’m in a dream again. I have a memory of seeing Diana of Themyscira put her mouth on my cock and instantly cumming, and have a moment to wonder if this will repeat itself now.

Kate smiles and takes my hand, leading me to the couch. She sits me down and climbs onto my lap, pinning my cock so it lays upright against her hips and stomach, touching the smooth skin around her belly button.

“First things first,” she says, and shrugs off her shirt. “I know you’re a tit man just from how you’ve been staring, so here they are.”

My first look at her naked breasts does not disappoint. They are large and full, hanging slightly to either side with a bit of natural sag that makes my arousal spike. She has medium-sized nipples that are just north of small, sticking out and begging to be licked. I ogle them and look up at her. “May I?”

“Please,” she says, arching a saucy eyebrow at me.

I put my hands on her hips and slide them slowly up her sides, feeling her soft, smooth skin as I go. I reach her ribcage and hesitate for a moment as my thumbs contact the undersides of her breasts, then bring my fingers around to squeeze them. Kate breathes a sigh just as I do, and I cup the weight of her breasts in my palms and bounce them slightly, watching them jiggle. I squeeze them again, rolling my palms around and feeling the firm yet yielding flesh. I drag my thumbs across her nipples, watching them resist and then give and poke back out on the other side. I hold her breasts together and watch how they mold to one another, imagining my cock in between them, slick with saliva and erupting with cum. I lean forward and stick my tongue out, dragging it across one nipple. Kate gasps as I touch it, then the other, then brush them with my thumbs again before latching on with my mouth and sucking on it.

“Holy fuck,” she says. “Charlotte said no one had ever worshipped her tits like you, but fuck!”

I squeeze and massage, putting my face in between them and holding them together. I feel Kate’s hand reach down and close around my cock, starting to stroke it. I am lost in a heaven of warm, soft flesh, drowning with no intention of coming up for air.

“I don’t want you to stop,” she says, “but I do want to make another request. I’ve never wanted this before, but, will you cum on my tits?”
I groan into her tits and suck her other nipple hard, nibbling and then saying around it, “Yes, right now.”

She pulls away and slips to the floor, putting her tits right on my thighs in front of my cock and stroking. She spits on my cock and jerks it with both hands.

“Damn, this is a nice cock,” she breathes, and I explode, painting her tits with my white, hot spunk. It splashes up to her collarbone across the tops of her jiggling tits and flows into her cleavage. She drags the tip across each of her nipples in a way that is oddly familiar to me as it continues to pump out cum. She is moaning and leaning her head back as I grunt out my pleasure in whispers and moans. My orgasm subsides, as all must, but it is infinitely more satisfying than the ones I had yesterday trying to resist this exact pleasure until the right moment.

Kate holds my cock in one hand and slaps it lightly against her left breast, making it shake and jiggle, the flesh rippling out in little shockwaves from the point of impact. “Oh my god,” she says. “Maybe it’s just because we edged yesterday, but fuck that was hot.” She looks down at herself. “Look what you did to my boobs! You slathered them with cum!”

“Fuck,” I say. “They’re perfect. That was amazing.” My head drops back against the couch cushions and I rub my eyes.

“Yeah... it really was,” she says. “Who would’ve thought? Thanks, roomie.”

Kate stands, picking up her shirt off the floor and using it to wipe her chest.

“Let’s have some breakfast and then use the Randomizer!” she says brightly.

I collect myself off the couch and make my way upstairs to put on some clothes. This is going to be a wild three weeks.

🤍🤍🤍

You guys, guess what? This is the end of Volume 2! It snuck right up on us!!

But don’t worry, there’s already a Bonus episode…

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I dream, and in my dream I am king again. The queen is away and the royal cock-holder is nowhere to be found. I wander through my palace with an enormous erection, looking from room to room and finding no one. I am wearing an open robe with nothing underneath, clearly of a mind for congress with the royal consort but unable to find her. I can imagine how good it will feel to grasp her large bosoms and thrust inside her, and in my dream she is Kate. I make my way through halls and corridors until at last my path leads down to the dungeons.

In my dream I feel apprehension about this realm. I know that of all those in my service, the Enchantress is the least loyal to my desires and the most likely to operate her own agenda. I can hear tinkling sounds and smell nostrums that offend and I know what they mean— she is at work. I enter her chambers, closing my robe ineffectually over my protruding cock, and there she is by the fire. She has her back to me as she works, mixing powders into liquids that bubble by the light of small lamp-like flames she has created beneath them by methods of her own devising. She is cunning, the Enchantress, and she works many artifices to bring to pass my wishes for the needs of the kingdom— or my own amusement, when it suits her.

(If I do my job right, you won’t be thinking about subscribing in a few minutes…)

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“Good evening, my Lord,” she says without looking over her shoulder.

She always greets me thus without looking at me and it sets me ill at ease.

“Good evening, Enchantress,” I say, attempting to maintain my royal poise.

“What doth my Lord require of me?” she asks, without turning or bowing as is the custom.

“I wonder if,” I clear my throat. “Dost thou know whither the inhabitants of the palace have gone?”

“I know not my Lord, for I labor long down in my chambers. Betimes I know not whether the sun doth open his eyes or slumber.”

“Perchance I dream,” I say, “for long have I walked and seen neither servant nor footman.”

“Mayhap,” says the Enchantress. “What doth my Lord require of me?”

I do not know what to say. If I dream, I must wake to find satisfaction. If the palace is empty and all of my subjects are vanished, what can she do?

“There is much I can do for you, my Lord. I know of your true needs.”

“What?” I ask, surprised.

“I know how to satisfy needs you did not know you had. I know of pleasures you do not know exist, for you have not heard of them.”

“I know all the pleasures of my lands,” I say. “There is no satisfaction I seek that I cannot obtain.”

“Mayhap I have been to other lands,” says the Enchantress. “Mayhap I know of things you do not know for none now live to tell them.”

With this, she turns to me and I am stunned by her beauty. She bears a striking resemblance to Mara Merlot, some part of my brain distantly notes as she walks towards me. She is wearing armor that is similar to Wonder Woman’s, though hers has a black, gunmetal and green color scheme right up to the green jewel in her tiara. She throws back her hood and her raven-black hair streams out behind her as though in a wind. She points to my cock, which is sticking out hopelessly through my robe, and the robe flies open and off my shoulders.

“I will serve you, sire,” she says to me, and flicks her wrist upward. I begin to float, and I feel fear as my arms and legs stretch out in opposite directions and I drift backward to the wall. A contraption catches me and my arms and legs are strapped in place with leather bands and brass buckles. I inhale to protest, to threaten and command, but my breath is stopped by a look. In her eyes I see a green flash that fades quickly and I wonder if she is human at all.

As my terror begins to reach a crescendo and I pray for the dream to break, she reaches me and leans forward to plant a kiss on my lips. It is sweet beyond all measure, and imparts warmth to my whole body, starting in my mouth and flowing through all of my blood vessels and nerves like a refreshing draught. The light in the room turns gold, the walls shimmer away, and we are in a beautiful garden, the loveliest I have ever seen. Large-leafed plants produce flowers of every description in vivid colors, and paths wind through glens of fruit trees tended by maidens who wear sheer, misty garments that seem to float around them and cover not their nakedness at all.

“Is this Eden?” I ask, turning to the Enchantress.

“No,” she says, sadly. “This was Themyscira, home of the Amazons. It is lost now.”

I look at her and she is now clad only in armor of red, gold and blue that the king in me does not recognize any more than he recognized the version he saw in her dungeon. She is impossibly beautiful, vibrant and vivacious in the light of a sun that shines as I have never seen, imparting a luster and sheen to everything its light touches. I am still strapped to the contraption, but this seems completely irrelevant now.

“Enchantress,” I say. “What must I do to come here and live out my days in pleasure among these beautiful sights?”

“My name is Diana, here,” she says. “There were no men allowed on Themyscira before the fall. But we are not really here,” she says, looking at me. I feel a brief thrill of fear, and then an arousal so powerful that I buck my hips forward.

“Ah, yes,” she says. “Your needs. I will satisfy yours to accomplish my goals.”

Enough of my faculties remain that I am concerned at this statement, but then she lifts this contraption that holds me bound to a higher setting by some hidden mechanism and steps close to me. Then Diana does something that I have never before imagined: she leans forward and puts her mouth onto my cock.

The feeling is nearly indescribable and sets off a display of fireworks inside of my head. I am unable to breathe as her lips close around my cock, which I thought only moments ago was deprived of no pleasure that mortals could create. I look down in shock, all of my muscles tight, as she begins to actually suck on my dick. I feel a wave of energy and pleasure roll through my loins and rush down my cock and she looks up at me with her large brown eyes. There is a flash of green and she bares her teeth for a second, startling me badly, but it’s too late. I have unleashed a torrent of my seed and it fills her mouth to overflowing in a heartbeat.

She looks like Diana again, beautiful and serene, smiling slightly up at me with her eyes. She does not move or react as I cum, merely letting the overflowing liquid run out of her mouth and down her chin, onto her neck and collarbone and into the space behind her armor. My back is arching, trying to thrust my cock deeper into her mouth as I spend my effort in vain straining against the straps. My eyes roll back at the intense pleasure and close, and as my orgasm wanes, the light of the world hidden by my eyelids fades. I feel Diana’s mouth disappear from my cock and I sag in the grip of the contraption.

I feel very tired of a sudden, but with the last of my strength I open my eyes and see that I am back in the dungeon with the Enchantress, who is standing with her back to me. I hear her spit once, twice, three times, and as she turns back to face me, I see her capping a vial which she slips into a hidden pocket in her cloak.

“Now, sire,” she says. “You will wake up in your bed and remember only that you had a wonderful dream where you invented a completely new act of pleasure for your consorts to practice upon you.”

“Consorts?” I say weakly. “A king can have more than one?”

“Ah,” she says. “My mistake. You will awaken with two ideas of your own invention that will greatly enhance your pleasure...on their own, of their own merits, and perhaps together. Hmm?”

So saying, she snaps her fingers and I awaken in my own bed, the sheets around my crotch completely soaked in cum. I groan and shake my head.

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I wear the thickest pair of jeans I have to try for Charlotte’s goal, and put on some loud music to distract myself.

I have nearly succeeded and am feeling pretty good about things when Kate walks in, towel wrapped around her, carrying her bikini and the lotion in one hand and my towel in the other.

“Here,” she says. “Unless there’s someplace better for me to put it?”

“Oh, thank you,” I say, looking anywhere but the massive valley of cleavage at the top of her towel. “The laundry is down the hall, but I’ll take care of it.”

I lay the towel over one of the bar stools at the counter and go back to cooking.

“Great!” she says. “I’m gonna go shower. I’ll leave this here for you, too. Later on you can show me where the laundry is so that I can be a good roommate.”

Out of my peripheral vision, I see another towel get laid over another bar stool and hear her bare feet pad away across the tile. My eyes go wide, staring down at the cutting board where I’m chopping an onion. Don’t look, I think. It won’t help. Don’t look.

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I glance over and see her walking away, butt naked, hips swinging slightly as she walks around the corner to the guest room which thankfully has an ensuite bathroom. Models can be incredibly comfortable with nudity, I’ve noticed. After so many hours on set covering themselves with just their hands, or sand, or changing bikinis out in the open air, the shock factor is gone when they’re around people they’re comfortable with. Evidently my association with Charlotte has gotten me into Kate’s good books. If Kate isn’t interested in fooling around, I won’t be able to take twenty days of this. It’s only been two hours and I’m already a wreck.

I finish cooking dinner and I call to Kate when it’s ready, praying that she’ll come out with clothes on. I serve up two plates and am just setting them on the table when she comes out.

Kate breathes deeply. “Wow!” she exclaims. “That smells amazing! I’m starving, thank you so much for cooking. I didn’t expect that.”

I avoid eye contact until I see in my periphery that she’s dressed, and when I look over at her, I studiously maintain that eye contact based on her wardrobe.

Not that she’s wearing anything outrageous— quite the opposite. She’s as clothed as she could be with one exception. She wears matching green and navy checked plaid flannel pajamas that are in no way sexy, except for the fact that the top was in no way manufactured with her bust in mind. They barely button up to her breasts and the last two buttons have no hope of ever coming together, revealing an absolutely mouth-watering display of cleavage that is drawing my eyes like the pavement drew watermelons being thrown off the roof of the Ed Sullivan Theater.

“Yeah, don’t expect it every night,” I manage. “I cook when the mood seizes me, mostly just to eat less garbage.”

“Processed food is a pandemic,” she says, sitting down at the table in front of her plate.

Our table is an extended oval, with seats at each end and two on either side. It’s not an enormous dining table, and the room it sits in, which is open to the kitchen, dwarfs it somewhat. I had laid out our plates on opposite sides of the narrow breadth, because opposite ends of the whole table seemed like too much of a statement. However, as I take my seat a mere three feet from one of the most photographed pairs of tits on the whole planet which are 25% on display at this very moment, I realize that even across the long end of the table would have been too close.

We dig in and chat while we eat, and I am amused at her lack of decorum. She doesn’t take tiny bites or worry about talking with her mouth full or not getting any food on her face. She tells stories in an animated way, smiling big and laughing often, with a lack of self-consciousness that is the opposite of Ava in many ways. It is easy conversation, never forced, as though we’ve known each other for a few years already. I fail to realize how much trouble I’m in until halfway through the meal.

Kate is in the middle of a story and stops dead, smiling with her mouth full and almost losing some of the food from between her lips as she grins and has to cover her face and chew. “Hey buddy,” she says after she swallows, “my tits are down here.” So saying, she points both fingers at her boobs and I unconsciously follow her fingers.

I blush and look back at her face to see her burst out laughing, and then I look away in embarrassment.

“Damn, man. You’re doing such a good job of not checking me out that it’s starting to make me uncomfortable. Most guys make it about two seconds into the conversation before taking a peek, and then it’s like their eyes are bouncy balls going back and forth between my tits and my eyes.”

I laugh uncomfortably and shrug. “I’m just trying to be respectful.”

“Look, they’re just boobs. It’s no good trying to hide these puppies, and I got used to people scoping them out a long time ago. My god, Charlotte’s are bigger than mine and I know you must love them.”

I smile in spite of myself.

“I’m not saying you need to to stare at them, but I’m worried you’re going to bust a blood vessel. Just relax, man!”

I take in a breath and let it out. “All right. Point taken. Sorry. Is that right? Do I apologize for not checking you out?”

She laughs. “Let go of the rules. This is your home. If you’re sharing it with me, lets be roommates. If something is bugging you, just tell me.”

“Okay, I can do that. And you too!” I say.

“I just did,” she laughs, taking a sip of water.

I laugh along with her, and a good amount of the tension between us evaporates.

We finish our meal, and yes, I occasionally glance down at her boobs as she talks. Resisting the urge was causing me a lot of stress, I notice, so I consciously try to breathe deeply and calm myself. Not that this does anything for the erection I’m sporting under the table. When it comes time to clean up, I stand, hoping my jeans will do something to hide the bulge, and to my relief they do a passable job.

There aren’t many dishes so I wash by hand and she sits across from the sink at the counter on a bar stool, leaning forward with her arms folded so her tits look like they’re about to explode out of her top. Since I have an excuse to be looking down and washing the dishes, I also have an excuse to peek up at her boobs while I’m pretending to be looking down to wash the dishes.

Kate is very talkative, and I find I don’t mind listening to her as she chatters away. “Here,” she says. “Toss me a towel. I’ll dry.”

She grabs a dish from the drying rack and towels it off, setting her boobs jiggling and shaking. “So I said, ‘I don’t know why it’s upside down, but frankly I think it’s better—whoa! Dude!”

I look back to what I’m doing and see that I was just about to close my hand around the blade of a sharp chef’s knife I had just put soap on instead of using a brush or sponge.

“Yikes,” I say, grabbing a sponge.

“Go on,” I say. “It looked better upside down?” I glance up at her and see a secret little smile that she puts away when she sees me looking. “

Kate continues her story and we finish cleaning up.

“Do you want to watch a movie or something?” I ask.

“If you want! Don’t feel like you need to entertain me,” she says. “You can do what you would normally do, I can entertain myself.”

“I think I’ll watch a movie. I usually hit the hot tub before bed because it relaxes me.”

“That sounds great!” says Kate, bouncing to her feet. “Which one first? Movie then hot tub?”

“Sure,” I say, and then it hits me, of course. But it’s too late.

I flop down slightly to the right of center on our large U-shaped couch, and she sits on the left arm, putting her about five feet away and ahead of me. I’m in the mood for a comfortable distraction, so I choose a Star Wars movie, feeling it will be sure to put her off a little bit at least. Maybe she’ll even go to bed early, I think.

“Oh, Rogue One,” she says. “This is a really good one. So sad.”

“You like Star Wars?” I ask.

“Oh yeah. Binged them all before The Force Awakens. I liked that one, but this is definitely the strongest of the new movies.”

“What about Solo?” I ask in spite of myself.

She see-saws a hand back and forth. “Also good! Probably the next strongest but I like Episode Seven better personally, taken by itself. I thought Solo suffered from a lack of consistent direction. A trend they really doubled down on story-wise for Eight and Nine, I think,” she finishes.

“Me too,” I say, bewildered. I start the movie, looking at her with frank surprise.

Kate starts to fidget. “What am I sitting on?” she asks, reaching under herself. She fumbles in the couch and pulls something out, a small bottle of what looks like lotion. “Oh, very nice,” she says, tossing it to me.

GoodHead Oral Sex Cream, Raspberry Flavored, the bottle proudly proclaims. I chuckle and toss it back behind me. “That’s the good stuff,” I say.

“I’ll have to try it sometime,” she says. “I’ve never used an edible cream like that.”

“Charlotte doesn’t usually like them, but some people do.”

“What an interesting implication,” she says with a smile over her shoulder at me.

I laugh politely before I comprehend what she said, and by the time I catch up, it’s too late to reply. I just implied that we’ve had visitors who have liked oral sex cream more than Charlotte.

Which is mostly what I think about for the first few minutes of the movie.

The movie starts and plays for a few minutes without incident. I am starting to get engrossed with the plot when Kate adjusts herself, moving a cushion from down by her feet behind her and stretching out. She’s five ten, which is a lot of woman stretching out ahead of me, and she comes to rest in such a way that I have an amazing view down her shirt.

Besides the slight ache of having a boner for hours on end, this in itself is not a problem. I have a pretty good idea that she knows what she’s doing to me, so I don’t have to feel like a peeping Tom. It’s a lovely view, and as the pressure grows on the critical button that holds her bra-less tits at bay, I can even imagine that it will burst. We watch the movie for a bit longer, and then she shifts a bit and the button gives way, shooting across the room and skittering along the tile floor.

Kate’s shirt pops open a bit more but doesn’t quite reveal her tits completely. The pressure that was creating the tight valley of cleavage relaxes and her breasts take a more natural shape, and the fabric that remains in place barely covers her nipples--but cover them is does.

She laughs but doesn’t move to change anything. “Oops,” she says. “Structural failure.”

I chuckle. “Around here we call that explosive decompression.”

Kate laughs harder, repeating the joke and giggling.

We finish the movie, but I admit that I spend a lot of time examining the curvature of her boobs from my vantage point behind her. My cock remains astoundingly erect throughout until the last fifteen minutes or so when the plot distracts me. The movie ends with my erection mercifully having subsided.

I stand up and stretch.

“Hot tub?” says Kate, bouncing to her feet. Her top is now showing a good two inches of chest between her breasts which have parted somewhat to either side to a more natural position.

“Oh,” I say. “Yep.”

“Great,” she says. “See you there!”

I smile and nod as she skips away, then head upstairs to change.

Five minutes later I’m sliding the cover off the hot tub and climbing in. Kate walks out a minute later in the orange bikini bottom from earlier and a white T-shirt, her hair down around her shoulders.

“My top from earlier didn’t dry yet and I hate putting on a wet swimsuit,” she says, climbing in across from me. “This is okay, right?”

A small, strangled sound issues from my esophagus and I nod as the water instantly saturates her T-shirt, clearly showing her nipples and the shape of her boobs.

I reach blindly and slap the controls for the jets, which cause the water to bubble and foam, slightly obscuring her magnificent bust but completely obscuring my instant raging hard-on.

“Oh, these are interesting,” she says. “This is like a massage chair.”

“Yeah,” I say, leaning back and closing my eyes. “There are eight, and they’re all different. They’re kinda modular so I tried a bunch.”

“Oh, fun!” she says. “I’m gonna try them all.”

I hear the sound of Kate standing and can’t help myself. I open my eyes and watch her rise from the water, the T-shirt absolutely glued to every surface of her torso, even under her boobs. Her every curve is accentuated rather than obscured by the now skintight and nearly translucent fabric as she moves to another seat across the tub to my left. She turns and leans back, thrusting her chest in the air and dipping her head back into the water to wet her hair, which she then slicks back into a single unit behind her head. She is slowly lowering herself and I am positively hypnotized by her chest, nipples clearly visible as they sink partially beneath the water once again. My dick is so hard that the tension of my swim trunks resisting its rise is painful.

“I like this one,” she says. “Up and down. I’m a sucker for massages.”

She sits for a few moments and then slides over to the one next to her.

“Oh, I don’t like this one. Too drummy.”

“’Drummy’?” I ask.

“Yeah, like rat-a-tum-tum-tum. It makes my brain hurt.”

“Drummy is not a word,” I say.

“But you knew what I meant,” she says.

Then she stands again and the water cascades off of her, vacuum-sealing her t-shirt to her stomach and bust, and I feel myself get a little light-headed. This is unreasonable.

That’s when I realize she’s about to sit down next to me.

“Oh hey,” she says as she lowers down next to me, her shoulder coming to rest against mine and her thigh right next to mine under the water.

“Hey,” I say, unable to casually move or do anything except goggle at her tits from the corners of my eyes.

“This is a nice hot tub,” she says.

“Yeah,” I say. “Had it put in as soon as I could. I love a good hot tub soak.”

“I like them more in cold weather,” she says.

“Same. But it’s good for my back.”

“Oh, do you have back pain? I know lots of tall guys do,” she says with concern in her voice.

“Yeah. I’ve heard that the taller you stack something the more likely it is to have problems.”

She laughs. “I’m awesome at massages. Sit in front of me.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” I say. “I don’t really like massages.”

“Come on,” she says, tugging at my arm. “It’s what good roommates do. Sit in front of me!”

Reluctantly I move to kneel in front of her spot as she spreads her legs behind me. The hot tub is deeper in the middle, so I have to figure out how to make my legs fit.

“No, no, silly,” she says, pulling me back by the shoulders. “Sit on the seat in front of me.”

“Oh,” I say, and float backwards slightly until I can perch on the edge of her seat.

Kate pulls me back further and closes her legs so that her thighs are touching my hips, then has me lean forward slightly.

“There we go,” she says, and starts rubbing my shoulders.

I wasn’t lying when I told her I didn’t like massages, but I have to admit that it does feel nice as her fingers work their way down my back. My erection is throbbing, straining against my shorts, and screaming for release, willing her fingers to slide around to my front and touch me there. I have a brief mental image of her right hand sliding down my shaft, squeezing the head, and triggering an instant orgasm where I cum into the hot tub water. It certainly wouldn’t be anything new for the hot tub filtration system, as Charlotte and I have had sex many times out here. But Kate’s hands don’t seek my dick, and instead she starts radiating out from my spine with smooth, soft touches that have me enjoying a massage for the first time in my life.

Kate works her way back up my back to my shoulders.

“Wow,” I say. “This is amazing. I’ve never liked massages before. I’m not kidding.”

I hear the smile in her voice. “Good! I love that. I have a couple of more tricks if you don’t mind leaning back.”

As she says this she pulls me back into the position she wants and I feel her breasts push into my back as she lays my head on her right shoulder. I realize it’s too late to do anything else; I am in her power. She pulls my left arm out to the side, extends it and rolls it in a circle, stretching the shoulder very thoroughly, raises it up, then lets it fall. Underwater, my hand comes to rest on her thigh and I pull it away.

“Sorry,” I say.

“That’s okay,” Kate says softly.

She repositions me to her other shoulder, a placement that is feeling more intimate and less roommate-like by the minute. I am acutely aware of her breasts pressing into my back through the slightly rough fabric of her shirt. I can see her face through my peripheral vision, hair slicked back, water beaded on her skin, looking sexy as all hell as she stretches out my right arm, doing the same shoulder roll as she did on the other side.

“There,” she says. “How’s that?”

“Great,” I say.

Kate lets go of my arm and I see her looking down. I lift my head to follow her gaze and see that our bodies are intersecting and blocking the nearby jets, and therefore, thanks to the subtle uplighting, my erection is completely visible through the water.

I clear my throat and sit up, sliding smoothly to the other side of the hot tub.

“It’s okay,” she says, and I look up at her.

“Yeah, totally,” I say. She smiles.

“I’m gonna head to bed, I think,” I say. “I get up early to write, so I’ll be around if you need anything.”

“Kay,” she says, still smiling.

“The cover, just...” I say, pointing to the cover and the hot tub.

“Kay,” she says.

I stand and exit the hot tub, knowing there’s nothing I can do to hide my boner, and she watches intently. Much like the way her t-shirt clings to every nook and cranny of her bust, my shorts conform to the outline of my cock, which has maybe never been harder in my whole life and is quite uncomfortable in its current state.

I grab my towel and head inside, lightheaded. Once again I make it as far as the shower before jerking off, and afterward collapse into bed. I text Charlotte, but she’s at 35,000 feet and usually sleeps on night flights, so I lay in bed awake for some time. I hear Kate enter the house and wonder if she bothered leaving her t-shirt on for the trek inside.

I drift off to sleep with a painful erection, too tired to bother with masturbating again and more irritated about it than horny, anyway.

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“Honey,” Charlotte calls from the kitchen.

I’m in my office working on my computer. “Yeah?” I call back.

“I’ve got some good news and some bad news,” she says, walking down the hall towards me.

“Okay,” I say, turning to face the door.

She enters holding a handful of mail, topless in a pair of booty shorts.

“Is the good news that I get to see your boobies?” I ask.

She looks down and then back up. “It’s Topless Tuesday,” she says. “Don’t you check the calendar?”

I make a gesture with my hand that says, Of course.

She smiles and says, “No. Bad news first. I’m going to be gone for three weeks on a closed set shoot.”

“Oh,” I say, genuinely crestfallen. This usually means filming nude scenes, which means long, long days and close, intimate settings with minimal amounts of people in and out of the set. Carefully controlled and exhausting for actors, and no personal time except on weekends unless the director or crew can’t keep up with the shooting schedule in which case overruns are common resulting in weekend reshoots.

“Which means I also won’t be here until the day before Christmas,” she says, wincing.

“Aww,” I say, sitting back in my chair. “I really can’t come?”

“You know how it is,” she says, her seriousness slightly undercut by her nudity. “I’ll be done late at night just in time to hop in bed, and then up at the crack of dawn to work out and get to set. It’s not that I don’t want you there...”

“It’s that I’ll go crazy. Yeah. I remember.” We’ve tried it before, and it wasn’t great. One of the only fights we’ve ever had resulted from that combination of long days and short nights one after the other, and that was only a ten-day shoot.

“It’s better if I go to ground, focus, and get it done. It’s not a big budget movie, but it’s a good role for me, I think.”
“You don’t need to justify yourself,” I say, rising and walking to her. “If it’s important to you, it’s important to me. I’ll have the tree decorated and ready when you come home. We can have a great holiday after you’re rested up.”

Charlotte takes me in her arms and squeezes me. I kiss her forehead and then her lips. Then I turn to go sit down.

“Now for the good news,” she says, going to sit down on the love seat opposite my desk.

I sit. “What’s the good news?”

“I just happen to have found someone who needs a place to stay for the month of December.”

I turn to her. “And how would that information be good news for me, hmm?” I ask. “I, who like my solitude? I, who prefer to be left alone?”

She rolls her eyes. “You, who starts talking to himself after an hour at home alone? You, who doesn’t like to eat at restaurants or go to movies by himself? Is this who we’re talking about?”

I smile in spite of myself. “I really don’t want a house guest.”

She grins and puts her hands between her knees, rocking forward. “I really think you do.”

“It’s not a dog, is it?”

“No.”

“Is it your mother?”

“If we’re going to play twenty questions, you should strategize better,” she says.

“Are you going to tell me who it is if I guess correctly?”

“No.” She cackles.

I laugh. “All right,” I say, turning back to my laptop. “Play your games.”

“I will do that,” she says, rising. “I’m putting together a very fun game for the two of you to play, in fact. And it’s got a challenge attached to it.”

“Oh?”

“Yes,” she says, leaning back and cupping her breasts. “I want to see if you can make it twenty-four hours without fucking her before the sex games begin.”

“That’s not your usual type of skulduggery,” I say mildly.
“I know!” she giggles. “I’m going to go work on the game right now. But first,” she says, crawling under my desk in front of me, “all this toplessness has got me horny. And I see that bulge in your pants.”

“Do you want me to sit on the couch?”

“No,” she says, tugging at the waistband of my athletic shorts until I help her get them down. “I want you to see how many words you can write while I pump your dick for hot cum.”

“Probably not very many,” I groan as she takes my hardening cock in her hand and starts to lick my balls. “Oh, shit. That’s good, Charlie.”

“Mmm,” she says. “I agree. Now get those fingers tapping.”

Shall we take care of this, before we take care of you? ❤️‍🔥

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***

The day Charlotte leaves happens to be a day I have production meetings in the city. As a writer, I mostly just listen in, weighing in on decisions that would change story based on budgets or time constraints. Not the most exciting way to spend a day, but one more shovel full of sand into the mold that everyone pours their talents into to one day cast a solid piece of art from.

By the time I get home it’s nearly dinner and until I park in the garage I have momentarily forgotten that Charlotte won’t be there, and I’m surprised to see that there’s a white coupe parked in the driveway blocking her side of the garage. I try to think of who might be here and then I remember the mysterious house guest Charlotte had teased a few weeks ago. She really never brought it up again.

I enter the house and drop my bag, calling out, “Hello?”

I hear no response.

I walk through the living room to the kitchen beyond, seeing no one.

“Maybe she’s out,” I say, and head up to my bedroom to change. I think a swim is in order.

I change my clothes, use the bathroom, and then grab a towel and prepare to head out. I walk out of my bedroom door, stop, turn around and walk back in. On the back of the bedroom door is a full length six foot poster of Kate Caldwell.

“What the fuck?” I say to myself. It’s probably my favorite shot of her, standing wearing gold chains and beads around her neck and waist, an arm across her naked breasts, looking like a goddess. Surely the wildest Greek imaginings hadn’t produced an Aphrodite as sexual as the creature on this poster. But where did it come from? I could swear it hadn’t been there this morning or last night. I look up and around the room with new eyes and notice several framed magazine covers and pages, each professionally done, each holding a different image of none other than Kate Caldwell.

Early Christmas present, I think. I have the best girlfriend ever. I trot down the stairs and pad out to the pool, dropping my towel on a chair and jumping in. I swim a couple of lengths under the warm sun before floating on my back calmly in the deep end. I love the feeling of weightlessness that comes with floating in the water like this. It is utterly peaceful.

“I don’t want to scare you, but, hi,” says a voice from beside the pool.

“Whoa!” I say, snapping my head up and thrashing my arms and legs involuntarily. Blinking in the sunlight I look up and around to see who spoke.

Laying on a chair by the pool in an orange bikini is Kate Caldwell.

“Oh,” I say. “I’m dreaming. Hello.”

She is covering her mouth and giggling. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize that you didn’t see me until it was too late, and I didn’t want to startle you. I don’t know how you didn’t see me here.”

“Dreams are funny that way,” I say, swimming to the shallow end of the pool and standing when I can reach the bottom. “Perception and expectation.”

I walk over and pick up my towel, drying my face with it and looking over at her.

“I’m Jack,” I say.

“Kate,” she says. She sits up and waves.

“Nice to meet you, Kate.”

“Nice to meet you too,” she says, still smiling.

I walk to a chair near hers and sit down. “Nice day, isn’t it?”

“Not if you ask a Californian. They call this winter.”

“They do, don’t they?” I say.

“It’s sixty-eight degrees,” she says. “Sunbathing weather in Michigan.”

“Swimming weather in Maine,” I say, gesturing to the pool.

There’s a moment of silence between us.
“This is a nice dream,” I say. “Not all dreams are pleasant, but this one is good.”

“Are you trying to get me to say, ‘You aren’t dreaming’?” she asks.

“Oh,” I say. “I wouldn’t presume to tell you what to say.”

Kate giggles.

I look at her, trying desperately to maintain eye contact. “Seriously, though. I had no idea you were going to be here. That was quite a jump scare.”

“Didn’t Charlotte tell you?”

“She told me a couple weeks ago that she knew someone who needed a place to stay for the month of December, but she wouldn’t tell me who.”

“Really?” she asks, raising her eyebrows.

“Yeah, I’m not surprised.”

“Why not?”
“Well, because I would have gone--” I stop dead. I was about to say something about how I would have gone crazy with anticipation. But then I would have to explain how I’ve grown accustomed to every beautiful woman I meet eventually having wild sex with me.

“--crazy trying to... prepare... the house,” I finish lamely.

Kate looks at me with amusement dancing in her eyes. “Good thing she didn’t tell you, then.”

I clear my throat, feeling my penis start to fill with blood. “Yes. Well. You know how she likes to play her games,” I say.

Kate nods. “I’ve known Charlotte for a long time.” She looks over at the house and then up at the sky, and I shamelessly look at her cleavage. The bikini isn’t overly revealing, but her breasts are bursting from all sides in exciting ways.

“Why do you need a place to stay?” I ask.

She smiles at me. “Renovations at my place. I didn’t want to rent an apartment, and Charlotte said you have a guest bedroom. Who would’ve thought that she’d be gone all month?”

I wrinkle my nose. “Yeah. That part stinks.”

“Well, thank you for agreeing to let me stay.”

“Sure,” I say. “I only have one rule. When a supermodel asks to stay the night, I say yes.”

She laughs. “You’re funny. It’ll be a good month. We’ll make the most of it,” she says, laying back. “Charlotte says she put together a game of sorts for us.”

“A game?” I ask.

“Yes, but we’re not supposed to start it until tomorrow morning.”

“Oh,” I say. What sort of game could she possibly have made for us? “Well, I’m gonna keep swimming.”

“Kay,” says Kate, not opening her eyes.

I lay my towel out and jump back in the pool, grateful to have hidden my very visible erection under the water. I do some more laps, trying to clear my head. This will not turn into three weeks of free use with Kate Caldwell. That’s not how the world works. She’s a friend. Charlotte didn’t say anything about it because Kate is not that kind of girl.

My head believes me, by my balls do not. I groan internally, imagining three weeks of constant erections around the house. Stealing into bathrooms to masturbate furiously and relieve the pressure. Sexting at odd hours with Charlotte when she’s not exhausted from her movie shoot, but otherwise going unsatisfied. I glance over at Kate who is still laying on her back with her eyes closed. Three weeks of seeing her out here. Her boobs look incredible, she seems to have Charlotte and Lucy’s power of defying gravity. The cut of her bikini is incredibly flattering to her figure, from her legs to her flat belly. I won’t be able to use the pool and the hot tub because my swim shorts, while baggy, are thin. Fuck! I’ll have to just go jerk off in the other room five times a day. I’ll have to…

I realize that I’m staring at Kate and my hand is on my cock, rubbing it through my shorts. No, no, no, I think. Get a hold of yourself!

I already have a hold on myself.

Stop it!

I try to float on my back again to calm myself, and then after a few seconds realize I’m basically presenting my cock to the world like a shark’s dorsal fin. Damn it. I go back to treading water and try a dive, upending myself with my legs in the air to push me down. I enjoy being under the water, sitting on the bottom for long stretches with weights. Unfortunately after ten seconds my lungs feel like they’re going to explode because my heart is hammering along so fast.

This is stupid, I think. You’re a man. Act like it. So I come up with the intention of calming my breathing, willing my erection away, and going about my business. As I break the surface and wipe my eyes, I’m feeling good about this new plan. Until I glance over at Kate.

Kate is laying face down on the beach chair, a sort of upholstered chaise lounger, and as I look over I see her bikini strings flop to either side. She’s undone her top. Kate is lying topless less than twenty feet away from me.

Now I fear that my cock is going to rip through the thin fabric of my shorts. I resolve to make a break for it while she isn’t looking. It’s just a boner. If she looks at me I’ll shrug and give a Mad Magazine smile. What, me worry?

I climb out of the pool, cursing myself for leaving my towel next to her, trying to be as quiet as I can without sounding like I’m trying to be stealthy. I walk casually but quietly over, holding my breath, and pluck up the towel and turn to tiptoe run away.

“Oh,” she says, picking her head up slightly. “I know we don’t really know each other yet, but I figure since you live with a model you get it.”

“What?” I ask without looking back.

“Oh,” she says. “Would it be weird if I asked you to put some lotion on my back?”

I turn and see that she’s holding up a bottle of suntan lotion.

I do live with a model and therefore I do know how important their skin is to them. Where I am only looking to avoid uncomfortable burns, they are protecting a valuable asset from blemishes, scars and melanomas. This is less like someone asking me to wash their car and more like asking me to put storm shutters over their windows when they’re out of town during hurricane season. You don’t just say no.

“Yep,” I squeak. “I can do that. Not weird. No problem.”

At least she’ll be facing away, I think. I step closer and take the bottle from her, reminding myself that the real consequence of not breathing will not be passing out but rather suddenly heaving large whoops of air as I touch her back. Like a maniac.

Because Kate is laying on the chair, she’s only a foot or so off the ground, which means there’s really no way to casually lean over and do this. I’m going to have to kneel down next to her, putting my outrageous erection as close to her as physically possible. She has her head turned to the left, and I choose her right side on the hope that she won’t shift.

I kneel down and shake the lotion bottle upside down before opening it up over my left hand. It’s far runnier than I anticipated, and an incredible volume of lotion spurts out. I try to expel air from the bottle and suck some lotion back in, and a little goes back at the expense of a loud, wet, flatulent noise. I wince and cap the bottle, then try to figure out how I’m going to rub this much lotion in on her back. I spread it between both of my hands and am still cupping a copious amount in each palm.

“Everything okay?” she asks.

“Yep,” I say quickly. “Yes. Just got a little too much here. Everything is a-okay.”

“If you have too much you can do my shoulders and legs, too,” she says.

“Totally,” I say. “Yes. I can do that. Absolutely.”

I see her suppress a smile and feel a thin sheen of sweat break out on my forehead. I realize that the length of time it’s taken me to touch her skin is growing conspicuous, so I extend my hands and touch her for the first time. Her skin is warm and soft and I begin to work the runny lotion in starting at the middle of her back. I spread it outward as I go, moving to the sides of her ribcage, where I can see the compressed ovals of her large breasts sticking out. I am leaning over to her left side when I notice how perilously close the tip of my dick, looking like a can of aerosol spray air freshener sticking straight out against the fabric of my shorts, is to touching her skin. I arch my back and pull my hips away, then go up to her shoulders.

I rub in the lotion and she murmurs, “That feels nice.” I realize I’ve slipped into giving a massage more than a skin-deep application and I move on quickly. I go down her right side, hands still absurdly slippery, and get to her hips. I have done her back and shoulders and my hands are still dripping.

I try to project confidence as I lay my hands on her thighs and slip-and-slide my way down her legs, trying to get the exposed circumference without getting too handsy around the front. I get to her ankles and despite still having lotion dripping from my fingers, I am satisfied that I’m done.

“No tan lines,” she says, and it takes me a minute to realize what she’s saying.

“So,” I say, “you want me to go under the straps?”

“Just pull the ties,” she murmurs into her arm.

There are two ties, one on each side, that hold her bikini bottoms on. I swallow hard.

“Sure,” I croak.

They’re shoestring knots that come undone immediately when I pull them. Then I delicately take her bikini bottoms and put them down between her thighs, exposing her butt. There’s nothing to do now but rub my oily hands all over her ass.

I start at her hips and go down the sides before sliding my hands up to her thighs. I put my hands delicately onto her butt cheeks and try to apply enough pressure without seeming like I’m squeezing. I rub the lotion in, carefully applying it into all the area that the sun shines on, trying to breathe normally while part of my brain is yammering that I’m rubbing Kate Caldwell’s ass. My cock is so hard that I begin to wonder if I really will cum prematurely in my shorts.

I’ve covered all parts of her that I can reasonably assume she would want covered, and I’m trying hard not to look into that gap between her thighs where her pussy lips show.

“All done?” she asks.

“Yep. I think so. Yes. Unless I missed something you know of.”

“No, thank you. Did you use up all the lotion or do you need me to roll over?”

“No!” I yelp, standing. “I did it. Used it. I used it all. Thank you! I’m gonna go hit the shower.”

I turn on my heel, hands very much still dripping lotion and jog to the house, skirting the edge of the pool.

“Your towel!” she calls.

“Oh, it’s okay!” I shout back. “I’ll get it later!”

Once in the safety of the house I slow down so I don’t fall on a tile and break my elbow. I trot into the kitchen, glancing behind me to make sure she’s still laying on the far side of the pool, and then I shuck off my shorts and grab my dick. It’s scary hard, and I only jerk it for about ten seconds before I shoot cum halfway across the kitchen floor, venting pent up arousal and frustration in a primal cry. As always, it is a far less satisfying orgasm than any shared with a beautiful partner, and within moments I feel equal parts abashed and giddy. I pull up my shorts and grab a handful of paper towels and wipe the floor, giggling a bit hysterically, trying to get it done to a point that would be explicable if Kate were to walk in. I throw them away in the garbage and then sit on the floor for a minute with my head on my arms breathing and trying to get myself under control. I can do this. I am not my sex drive. I am in control.

I head upstairs to take a shower and see the posters on the wall anew again and roll my eyes. I have no chance. It’s almost like Charlotte is trying to inundate me and overwhelm me, which I have no doubt that she is. I notice my phone on the nightstand lit up with a message. It’s Charlotte, probably still in transit.

‘Did you tap that ass yet?’

I utter a wild giggle.

‘Not yet. Nice decor change for the bedroom.’

Charlotte replies with a dozen hearts and a tongue emoji, then two more messages in rapid succession.

‘Betcha can’t make it till tomorrow morning.’

‘But try! If you can, it’ll make the next couple weeks more fun.’

I look at this with puzzlement. I try not to be hapless, but I’m not sure if she’s trying to get me to add Kate to my list of conquests tonight or genuinely wanting me to wait. I certainly know she doesn’t care either way, which is something.

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I blink and sit up on my elbows, looking down at my rigid cock.

“It’s the norm rather than the exception,” I say dismissively. “Thanks for this, Lauren. I enjoyed it.”

She is wrapped in a towel, leaning against the wall that divides the bedroom from the bathroom.

“You enjoyed it,” she repeats.

I palm some sleep from my eyes and look at her, inviting expansion.

“You’re laying there, steel rod ready to go, completely at ease. You took a nap, even. Let me use you however I wanted and then fell asleep.”

I wait, looking back at her.

“It’s an atypical hookup, for me, that’s all. I even squirted on your face and you didn’t bat an eye.”

“That was new for me,” I say. “But I liked it.”

“Did you? Even though I used you?”

I shrug slightly. “It was experience. Experience is good. Experience is the only thing promised in life, good, bad, or in between.”

Lauren smiles her enigmatic smile. “It’s too bad you have someone to go home to or I might keep you here.”

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I smile at her. “If I wanted to stay, I could. But I’m gonna go get a nice blowie and then fuck her brains out.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Boasting is beneath you.”

“Evidently not. But that’s the agenda for the evening, regardless. It always turns her on to hear of my sexual encounters.” I pause slightly on the last word, changing it from ‘conquests’ to ‘encounters’ at the last moment.

Lauren hears the difference and looks at me longer. “I don’t think you’re toying with me,” she says. “You really mean it.”

“That I do,” I say, rolling off the bed. “I really did have fun, though.”

I pull on my boxers and pants, tucking my boner inside, feeling her eyes on me as I do so.

“Take that back out,” she says, not moving.

I finish buckling my belt and put my hands on my hips, smiling slightly. “I don’t think so,” I say. I pick up my shirt and shrug it on, start buttoning it.

Still without moving, she says in a sharper voice. “Take that fucking cock out, Jack.”

I pause and look up, feeling a thrill of something halfway between adrenaline and arousal spike briefly. “No more orders from the Shield-Maiden tonight, I think.” I soften it with a small smile and turn away to continue buttoning and grab my tie.

I don’t hear her approach, but a softer voice behind me says, “What about if she asks you nicely?”

I look around at her. “I haven’t seen that side of her,” I say.

Lauren looks up at me, a vulnerable expression on her face for the first time.

“Will you please stay a little longer?”

I relax. “Okay.”

She smiles, a genuine smile, and grasps my cock through my pants. “Still hard,” she murmurs.

I laugh, and reach down and pick her up and kiss her. Her towel falls away as she jumps into my arms, wrapping her legs around my waist and slipping her tongue in my mouth. With each deep kiss, it’s as though she licks into my mouth and it turns me on like mad. I hold her by her naked ass, and reach down to pull my cock out of my pants. I line it up quickly and spear it up into her pussy, lowering her onto it at the same time. She gasps a moan into my mouth and we make out like high schoolers behind the cafeteria as my cock slides in and out of her. I bounce her slightly with my knees and my hands in tandem with thrusting my hips and it’s extremely hot. Her skin is warm and damp from her shower, and the fact that I’m fully clothed and was about to leave makes it seem somehow illicit.

Overcome with arousal now, Lauren stops kissing me and clutches my head to her shoulder, keeping us cheek to cheek. She is breathing heavily in my ear and between that and the muscle engagement required to do what I’m doing, I know I’m not going to last long.

“Oh, Jack,” she says, “this is fucking, this is real!”

“Oh,” I moan. “oh, baby....”

I catch a glimpse of us in the mirror, her creamy skin and athletic musculature highlighted by the lamp, bouncing on my ‘steel rod’ as she termed it, and I realize I’m done.

I step to the bed and lay her down. “I’m gonna cum,” I say, and she grabs my cock as I pull it out and uses her hand to jerk my load out onto her skin again. I cum hard, spraying ropes up her body once more, the first shots flying as high as her breasts and the last pooling out onto her belly.

“That was even more than last time,” she giggles, letting go of my cock and trailing a finger through my semen.

I giggle too, breathing heavily and laying down on my back next to her.

“You’ve got a drip,” she says, reaching out and wiping a drop of cum from the tip of my dick that was about to drop onto my slacks.

“That was much better,” I say. “Thank you for asking me to stay.”

Lauren goes up on one elbow to look at me. “Does your woman know what she has?”
I nod, smiling and closing my eyes.

“Good,” she says. “If she didn’t, this shield-maiden might have to... well.”

She leaves it at that when I look over at her, an amused smile on my face.

“I like you, too,” I say. After a few more seconds I stand up and tuck my cock back into my pants and zip up. Lauren watches me dress as I tie my tie and then sit to put on my socks and shoes. She strips a pillowcase and uses it to wipe her chest and stomach.

“Have your plans for the night adjusted at all, then?” she asks.

I check my watch. “They’ve been a bit delayed, but otherwise, no,” I say, standing and putting on my jacket.

Lauren stands and comes to me. She grabs my tie and pulls me down to kiss my lips, stepping to me and rubbing her belly against my cock.

“Still fucking hard,” she says, letting go of my tie and looking at me wide-eyed.

I grin. “I keep telling you....”

“Viking virility, I know. You should get a double V tattoo.” She feels my package gently, cupping my balls and tracing the length of my cock.

I stand and let her do it, watching her with interest.

“So you’re going to go home,” she says, looking up at my while touching me still, “tell your girlfriend to suck you off and then fuck her?”

I nod.

“And you’ll be able to do that? Two more times?”

“I’ll be surprised if she lets me go to sleep after only two times when I tell her this story,” I say.

“So if I got down on my knees right now,” she says, sinking to her knees, “and sucked you off... what would happen?”

“That would feel great. And look even better,” I say.

“You’d be able to cum again?”

“Well... yeah. Unless you really suck at giving head.”

She winces. “I’m gonna let that one slide.” She unzips my pants and slips her hand inside. “I am as good at giving head as I am at everything else I do.”

“I don’t doubt that,” I say, gasping as she pulls my cock out and takes it into her mouth. “Oh, fuck,” I moan.

Lauren hums a little moan and with surprising tenderness proceeds to suck my cock. She is very sensual, maintaining eye contact and moaning softly, clearly aroused by how much she’s turning me on. Again, her eyes enchant me, ringed as they are with dark blue and holding shattered crystals of ice blue inside her irises. Her brows knit together, seemingly with concern, as she works as hard for my cum as she did for herself at the beginning of our encounter. She wasn’t kidding about excellence in all things, I think, as her cheeks hollow slightly with the force of her suction. She slides her head back and forth, and besides one hand wrapped around the base of my cock, really uses very little motion, relying instead on her tongue work and suction. I find it incredibly arousing to see her gorgeous face with the shaft of my cock disappearing between her lips, and those eyes looking up at me with all the tenderness that was missing earlier on.

She continues to slide back and forth on my cock, leading with her chin and paying special attention to the underside of the tip, until I feel my orgasm approaching. I grunt and say, “Here it cums, Lagertha.”

She smiles and says, “Give me that viking seed, Jack, give it to me now!” She has a playful tone but still with a hint of command from earlier that is very sexy. She opens her mouth wide, sticking out her tongue and placing the tip of my dick right on the center just as cum starts to gush out, very white against her pink tongue. She moans and that aroused, concerned look that turns me on so much crosses her brow and she nods encouragingly.

“Fuck,” I moan as I watch my cum slide backwards down Lauren’s tongue into her mouth and forwards dripping off onto her chin and tits. She keeps stroking me intermittently until I stop cumming and then sucks the tip clean and swallows. She tucks me back into my pants and carefully zips me up before standing and walking to the bed.

“That’s three times you creamed me,” she says, wiping her tits again with the pillowcase.

“That was fucking incredible,” I say. “Wow.”

“Yes,” she says, sitting down and crossing her legs. “It was. Start to finish.”

I take a knee in front of her, raising her hand and kissing it. She has a little half-smile as I do so.

“Shield-maiden,” I say.

“Till me meet again, my lord,” she says, grinning.

“That’s not really how it ended,” Charlotte says, on her knees in front of the couch with my dick in her hand and my cum on her cheek.

“Sure it is,” I say, adjusting my posture to be more comfortable, post-orgasm.

Charlotte narrows her eyes at me. “I don’t believe you.”

“Believe what you want,” I say with a smirk.

“The rest of the story was amazing,” she says with a little shiver. “The way you won her over... ooh!”

I grin at her.

“These stories, these experiences,” she amends, “this is why I love sending you out there to conquer. I. Love. It.”

“I love how much you love it,” I say. “I get so tickled watching you like this.”

“You love it too,” she says, leveling a finger at me. “Admit it!”

I shrug and nod. “I admit it. You’ve won me over. To what, I’m still not sure.”

“To sexual experience!” she says, swiping a finger through the cum on her cheek and raising it up like a toast before sticking it in her mouth and sucking it clean.

I laugh, and so does she.

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I sit at a half-empty table at a dinner for a literarily minded charitable foundation, regrettably without Charlotte. She had a conflict across town, so I came by myself, and this is something to be endured until I can get home. I look around the room again to see if there’s anyone I recognize so that I can hop tables, but once again I strike out. Not that table hopping is permitted, as the the high-strung woman that greeted me when I came in was quick to inform me.

“You are assigned to table forty-two,” she said, referring to a list. “It is of utmost importance that you stay at your table and at your place, because the entire meal has been coordinated based on what you chose.”

I nodded to mollify her. I decided not to use that moment to reveal to her that I failed to respond with my choice in time and would thus be receiving whatever was considered to be the default.

“Sounds good.”

“Under no circumstances should you switch seats with anyone,” she said almost accusatorially. “It will throw off the staff and delay meal service for all of the other guests.”

“Got it. No seat swapping.”

She read me the preemptory riot act for a further thirty seconds, and then allowed me to head to my table. I’ve never cared for these events, and it’s the self-importance of people like her that make them even more insufferable.

I am lost in these thoughts when someone says, “Is this seat taken?” I look up and see a face I recognize but do not know personally.

“According to the woman at the door, very much so,” I say. “From what I can tell, no.”

“Looks empty to me,” the woman says, sitting down. She is wearing a black dress that greatly highlights her figure, and her blonde hair is flowing down over her shoulders in vintage style tresses. The word that springs to my mind is elegant.

I look over my shoulder towards the door.

“Did you just do a head check for that overzealous harpy?” the woman says.

I smile. “What can I say? I’m a rule follower.”

She clicks her tongue in disgust. “I thought better of you from your novels.”

“You can’t believe everything you read,” I say.

“If only half of what I’ve read about you is true, that would still be a good adage to live by,” she says.

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The gossip columns have picked up on some details of my sexual escapades of the past year, and though none are entirely correct, there is a nugget of truth to most.

I chuckle. “I’m Jack, but it seems you have the advantage of me,” I say in a posh English accent.

“Yes, it does,” she says, with a smile. Her blue eyes are casting a spell on me, one I am only too happy to fall under.

“And who are you?” asks an imperious voice. “I thought I asked you to leave.”

I look up and see the woman from the front door addressing the woman to my right.

“This is Lagertha,” I say smoothly. “Shield-maiden of Norway.”

The woman checks her list. “I don’t see her on this list.”

“She’s my plus-one,” I say.

“You don’t have a plus-one registered.”

“We were supposed to register them?”

If bureaucratic irritation had an onomatopoeia, it would be the tsk of frustration emitted by this woman right now. “What is she eating?”

“She will have the fish,” says the woman next to me.

The organizer snaps her little folio closed and leaves without a word, trailing well-bred contempt in her wake.

My guest leans back and arches an eyebrow, reevaluating me. “I thought you were a rule follower?”

“Yeah, well. You can’t believe everything you hear, either,” I say. “Crashing the party?”

She smiles. “Something like that.”

“Funny, I usually try to avoid these.”

“Alas, the commitments of a professional life.”

“Yes,” I say. “So, Ms. Winston, what is it that brings you here tonight?”

“Tut, tut,” she says. “So direct.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Very well. It’s been a warm Autumn so far, wouldn’t you say?”

She closes her eyes and shakes her head slowly with her lips pouted out tightly.

I take the time to draw a breath and let it out. “Do you find that individuals are more capable of accepting a woman as a shield-maiden than is our society at large?”

She raises her own eyebrows. “It depends on the individual. Some are threatened by it, whereas some find it... liberating, perhaps, to be with a woman who has the plan.”

“What do you think defines the difference between those two camps?”

“I find that men in particular who are insecure in their manhood are predictably threatened. But it’s not the outside picture that counts. The burliest of lumberjacks may be a teddy bear and the most waif-like intellectual may flee to the hills when a maiden beats her shield.” So saying, she clasps a fist to her breast and thumps twice.

“And how does one tell the difference between the two?” I ask.

She takes a sip of water, watching me over the rim of the glass. “Observation.”

I nod. “I have a shield-maiden in my life and she is quite an astute observer of character. She was able to see right through me and has taught me things about myself that I never guessed at.”

“Does your art not require self-awareness?”

I think for a moment. “Self-awareness, yes. But not necessarily accurate self-perception. Many belief systems are built on foundations that we accept as presented when we’re young, and can be very challenging to overcome.”

“There’s nothing easy about rebuilding a foundation underneath an existing structure. That requires a lot of trust.”

“Yes.”

“A willingness to let people follow their own course from time to time. To wander. Explore.”

I feel a little thrum of excitement go through my balls. I give her a long look. “I like the trend of your thought, Ms Winston. And I agree.”

“Lauren,” she says.

I nod, and the serving staff come through and deliver plates of food. Through dinner and into dessert, Lauren and I talk about self-actualization and the morality and illusory nature of free choice, themes that often present themselves in my books. She has well-thought out opinions and impresses me with the breadth of her interests. She maintains a veneer that is difficult to penetrate, however, and her flirtations remain veiled and indirect. Her body language becomes more open but she is difficult to read, and she is so disarmingly beautiful that I have a difficult time maintaining my own distance compensatory to hers.

“But that’s the whole point,” she is saying when I shake myself from being a bit lost in her smile.

“So you say.”

She pauses. “You know, usually when I wear something that covers my chest I don’t run into as many problems with men staring at me like an object.”

“An object of desire or an object of worship?”

Lauren blinks and then snorts a laugh. “You know, I don’t think I gave you a lot of ways out there but you found one.” She grins in spite of herself.

I grin back sheepishly. “The spirit is indeed willing, but the flesh is weak.”

“The Popeye defense,” she murmurs, rolling her eyes.

“Canned spinach will save me?”

“‘I yam what I yam’,” she says.

“Ah,” I say. “So what is a viking man to do when he sees a striking shield-maiden?”

“Tighten his vambraces and prepare to show her his strength with sword and shield.”

I slip my pen from my pocket and twirl it between my fingers as I draw out a small notebook as well.

“A sonnet for the warrior-poet, perhaps?” I ask, clicking the pen and flipping open the notebook. “’Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate....’”

She watches, suppressing a small smile.

“’Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May’... I could go on if you’d like.”

“I don’t doubt it,” she says, still with that small smile of hers.

She is obviously enjoying my discomfort, so I deprive her of it by finishing the sonnet, line by line. Her face gives nothing, but I think I see something in her ice-blue eyes subtly change.

“...’So long as men can breathe and eyes can see, so long lives this, and this gives life to thee,’” I finish.

Lauren blinks slowly, leaning back, relaxed, watching.

I realize what the look is, and where I recognize it from. She is the panther, still and watchful; but hungry, and looking at her next meal.

I open my mouth to suggest that we leave, and just before I speak I realize it’s the wrong thing to say. She will invite me, or she will not. She wants to be in control, and that is fine by me. However, my mouth is open and sound is about to emerge from my mouth, so I throw something else out instead.

“Billy Shakespeare sure had a way with words, didn’t he?” I ask.

Lauren surprises me by bursting out laughing, and it melts my heart. Her face, the flinty edge broken up by the full smile that she has rarely let me glimpse tonight, lights up and becomes something else. At the cost somewhat of the elegant, unreachable beauty, perhaps, she is pretty in a new way. The three people on the other side of the table look over at her outburst and then go back to their conversation. She is covering her mouth and her eyes are watering as her laughter subsides into giggles and hiccups.

“Oh,” she says. “I hate the hiccups.”

“My grandmother always said it meant someone was thinking about you, and you were supposed to try and think of who it was,” I say with a smile.

“Distraction has very little impact on the involuntary reflexes of the diaphragm, I think,” she says.

“I’m inclined to agree with you.”

She dabs carefully at her eyes. “Lovely. I always appreciate a good laugh. Let’s end this on a high note, shall we?” She stands and extends a hand. “Wonderful to meet you,” she says. “Thank you for the conversation. I hope to see you again.”

I take her hand and stand, bowing my head slightly. “Likewise. Charmed to make your acquaintance, Lauren.”

She smiles winningly, an enchanting red carpet smile, and sweeps away.

Well shit, I think. I instinctively know that calling out to her would be the wrong move.

“We all strike out sometimes, kid,” says an older man from across the table.

I smile sheepishly and shrug.

***

A few minutes later the serving staff clears our final plates and I notice a small card that had been underneath mine. I pick it up and see a room number: 1408. An upsetting reference to a horror story floats through my mind, but I stand and make my way through the banquet hall to the lobby. In speaking with the clerk, he tells me that there is no such room.

“We don’t number our rooms that way,” he says. “The numbers don’t start that low. Sorry.”

I step away and go to the elevator, the promise of an encounter rekindled within me, and my desire is strong. I go to the fourteenth floor and get out, but the clerk was right of course. The rooms are not numbered in a way that makes sense. I think back to the story, wondering if she was making a literary reference. If memory serves, room 1408 was on the thirteenth floor in a building that skipped thirteen in its internal numbering system. I go back to the elevator and go down a floor, since this building does have a thirteenth floor. I look at the card and the room numbers, but nothing jumps out. The rooms are numbered starting with 1310 and go up in single digits--1311, 1312, 1313, and so on. I think back to the story. Didn’t 1408 itself mean something?

“It added up to thirteen,” I mutter. “One plus four plus eight.”

I count along the wall until I get to the thirteenth room of the thirteenth floor, 1322, and knock on the door.

It opens a moment later and Lauren stands with a small smile, leaning with her hand on the top corner of the door.

I grin at her, I can’t help myself.

“Yes?” she asks.

“I would like to come in,” I say.

“You would?” she asks. “How interesting.”

“May I come in?” I ask.

“You may,” she says, standing aside and gesturing expansively with an arm.

I pass her and she doesn’t move, and I hear the door click shut behind me. It’s an average-sized hotel room, with bland artwork and a neutral color palette. Nothing interesting to note whatsoever, besides the occupant who I turn to face.

Lauren is about a foot shorter than me, and she doesn’t approach me as I turn to look at her. I am conscious of the power dynamic that formed between us at dinner and that is solidifying by the moment. Is this what it feels like to be dominated, I wonder to myself? She is ten years my senior, and I find that very arousing, but I am also at a bit of a loss as to how to proceed.

She is watching me with that same small smile, her golden hair catching the light and her high-collared dress highlighting a great figure underneath.

“I appreciated the cryptic invitation,” I said. “But you know there was a monster in room 1408.”

“Actually, the room itself was the monster,” she says lightly.

“Hmm,” I say. “Not sure the distinction sets me at ease.”

“And what,” she asks, leaning against the wall from over by the door, “would set you at ease?”

I smile. There’s no way around these verbal spars. I take a step forward and she stops me with one finger. But she says nothing.

“May I approach?” I ask.

“No,” she commands, but without a hint of harshness.

I clasp my hands behind my back and assume a relaxed military rest position.

“Good boy,” she says, indulgently. “Your shield-maiden has some commands for you. Will you accept them?”

I nod. “Yes, madame.”

“Take off your clothes.”

I take off my suit jacket and fold it, laying it carefully over a chair. My tie is next, then I unbutton my shirt while she watches and slip off my shoes. I lay the shirt carefully over the jacket and undo my belt, dropping my pants and stepping out of them. Socks next—never last—then my boxers. My cock, fully erect, springs free as I put my boxers on the chair and resume the rest position.

“Good boy,” she says softly, eyes lingering on my cock. “Now, pull that chair next to you on your left and kneel down.”

I take a chair from the table and slide it up next to me, facing right, and go to my knees.

Lauren steps forward confidently on bare feet and pulls her dress up slightly, planting one foot on the chair. The dress has a slit up the center in the front, and she parts it.

“You hinted that you knew how to worship,” she says. “Show me what you can do.” Her voice is without tenderness but also without the teasing, almost taunting attitude she has had thus far. She takes my head gently and pulls me forward under her dress. It is mostly dark except for the light coming in from below, and her pubic hair is trimmed instead of waxed as I have become accustomed to. It is immediately humid and fragrant with her scent, and though I cannot see, I know what to do.

I kiss her inner thighs, trailing up her right leg and getting closer to her vulva. Then I skip over it and start from her left thigh, working inward again and kiss her outer lips gently. I use my tongue to part them slightly and send the tip inside to explore. I taste her, feeling her pubic hair on my nose, and draw my tongue up her slit fully. Wide and flat, then thin and firm, I pull my tongue up through and between her labial lips several times, feeling her breath accelerate. When I reach her clitoris and give it an experimental tap with my tongue, lifting its hood and flicking over it, she cries out and grabs my head with one hand, winding her fingers into my short hair and pulling. I try that move again, gauging her response since every woman likes her clit treated differently, and she cries out once more.

I go back to licking her lips and slipping my tongue further, to the outer entrance of her vagina itself. I roll my tongue up and down, then slide back up to her clit and this time flick it for a few seconds. Her hips push forward and she pulls my hair again, moaning loudly.

I go to drop down to her slit again and she pulls my head back where she wants it. “Oh no, you don’t. Be a good boy and keep at it—until—I—”

Lauren evidently loses her train of thought as I do as she directs, licking her clit directly and without mercy. She holds my head to her pussy, grinding on my chin and gasping out incoherent moans of pleasure. I am thrilled to be making her lose her cool at last, and when she cums, it’s forceful. She tenses up and I can feel the thrumming muscles of her thighs by my ears like live wires, and then I maintain my tongue’s foraging efforts until she releases pressure on my head. To my surprise she yanks her dress up further and starts playing with her clit right in front of me, so I dive in and lick her labia again. As a result I get a full blast of her ejaculate in my face when she cums.

It’s a new experience for me, and after the initial surprise I find it very arousing. She is nearly screaming with the force of her release, and then squirts another jet of clear cum that splashes my face. I go back at it and she cums again, though without an accompanying deluge, and after this one she pushes me gently away and winds down her own efforts, bucking her hips and shaking.

Lauren grabs the back of the chair to steady herself, then half-whispers, “Lay on the bed and get that cock ready.”

She watches as I stand and wipe my hand across my face and then start rubbing the slippery wetness onto my stiff dick. I lay out on the bed and slowly stroke my cock a few times, making sure it’s as hard as possible. Lauren unzips the side of her dress and pulls it down, revealing her fit, martial-artist’s body to me before climbing on the bed. She kneels over my hips and without any ceremony lowers herself onto my cock. She puts her palms on my chest and starts working it again immediately, eyes closed, rolling her hips and using my cock as a tool of her pleasure.

“Oh, wow,” I say at the heat of her pussy when I enter.

Lauren rides me hard, going up and down like a piston, lost in her own world. At one point I put my hands on her hips and she opens her eyes to look at me. I think she is about to tell me to move my hands but then she seems to register my presence and leans forward, dangling her supple boobs in the air above me, her golden hair hanging down on either side of her face. I slide my palms up her side and cup them, palming her nipples and squeezing. She leaves a hand on my chest to support herself and drops the other to her clit. I admire the way she knows her body because she cums quite quickly, heaving a huge sigh and throwing her head back, whipping her hair around and crying out.

She calms when it subsides and looks down at me. “Do what you need,” she says softly. “But pull out. I don’t use birth control.”

I start thrusting up into her, hands on her hips. After a moment, though, I sit up and flip her around onto her back. She looks up at me calmly with those stunning icy blue eyes, her hair spread on the bed cover. Her features look carved from marble in the low light of the table lamp, and I can’t help commenting on it.

“You are so beautiful,” I say. She looks back at me almost watchfully but shows no other sign. I put my cock back inside of her and start thrusting, working now to make it myself. There is some relief in knowing she has gotten what she needs, but some hollowness too. This is not lovemaking, but it’s not exactly fucking either. I thrust into her and her face changes, feeling pleasure, but not overcome by it. She does not perform in the slightest. In the moment I find this very sexy and it redoubles my desire. She is an island and I long to tether her to the mainland, an effort I know to be futile and find all the more enticing as a result.

I thrust up and in until I am ready to cum, and then pull out and draw white lines up her belly to her breasts. Lauren gets up on her elbows to watch this, smiling her small smile. She reaches out and lifts my chin, then leans forward and kisses my lips, the first tender thing she’s done.

“I’m gonna shower,” she says, and scoots down to the end of the bed to stand. “That’s a lot of cum you had there,” she notes, and walks to the bathroom.

I flop back on the bed, my dick still very much erect, and put my arms behind my head.

As I hear the shower turn on, I reflect on new experiences and space out for a minute or two.

Lauren comes back out to get something and glances over at me.

“Still hard,” she says, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s that viking virility,” I say.

She puts a hand on her hip and looks at me for a moment. I can almost see her thoughts on her face.

“You’re thinking, ‘Maybe I misjudged him,’” I say.

She grins. “What’s the prize for mind reading, do you think? More sex?”

I smile. “I suffer from no shortage of sex. I didn’t come here to beg for scraps.”

“I did misjudge you,” she says, without a trace of apology.

“It’s all good,” I say. “You got what you wanted to get, right? And I got mine. We’re square.”

“Square,” she repeats thoughtfully, and then goes back into the bathroom. I hear the shower door open and shut, and the sounds of water splashing.

I must doze off, because I imagine I see her coming back out in a towel and crawling onto the bed to start licking at my cock, not like a sexy woman, but more like a large jungle cat might. It’s part sexy and part unsettling. My thoughts guide the dream and when I look down, it is a large cougar lapping at my balls, and I feel a thrill of fear.

“Still hard,” Lauren says again, drawing me up from sleep.

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When I wake, Ava has a hand on my cock and is pressing it into her pussy from behind. I am still spooning her from behind, and I have a hand clamped on her right breast. It’s a repeat of yesterday morning and a few months ago when we woke on the couch.

She’s already breathing quick, and when she feels me stir she manages to say, “Okay?”

In response I kiss her neck and roll my hips forward. “Yes.”

She shivers and pushes herself backward onto my cock, and it slips in.

I roll my hips forward slowly and it slides in further, then I pull back and press in again. With every new centimeter penetrated, my cock gets more lubricated and slides in further. I see Ava’s right fist twisting the sheet, and she cries aloud with pleasure when I sink in all the way. I think I’ve found her g-spot at this angle so I keep at it, working her up like I did last night from the front. It’s easier from behind, as it often is in my experience, and in addition to what my dick is doing, I kiss her neck and fondle her breast, twisting the nipple and palming it from time to time. I am blazing with desire and so is she; I can feel her heart slamming against her ribcage.

“Damn it Ava,” I whisper in her ear. “Why are you so fucking sexy?”

She whimpers and reaches behind her head to put her fingers in my hair and pulls.

“Fuck me, Jack,” she says. “Fuck me like it’s the last time.”

The thought had occurred to me, but I never say never.

I start building my pace, accelerating the tempo and making each stroke full and deep. She is so tight this way, lying on her side with her legs closed, and the friction is incredible. My thrusts are firm but not hard, and regular but not fast or frenzied. It’s the right pace for the occasion and I feel her tense up, clenching down on my cock so hard it’s almost painful— certainly enough to make me need to pause.

“FUCK!” she screams. “So fucking good!”

I put my hand on her belly as she bucks, feeling the taut muscles there, steadying myself to keep my cock inside of her as her pleasure takes her to another world. When she relaxes I resume at a reduced pace, thrusting until she cums again, and then a third time.

“Ava,” I say, “I love feeling you cum on my cock.”

“Oh yeah,” she says, “I love feeling that big cock inside me. Fuck me, baby. Fill me up. Give me all you’ve got.”

With that I let go and do as she asks. I thrust inside her exactly as I want to, driven by nothing more than animal instinct, and I lose track of how many times she is cumming and what the duration and intensity of her orgasms must be. I am singlemindedly working toward my own pleasure and that eclipses all else. “The last time,” my mind tries to tell me. “The last time.” I shut it out. Hands on her shoulders, lying on my side, I shove my stiff cock into Ava again and again until, with a roar of my own, I unleash my cum inside her for the second time since we went to bed last night.

I groan loudly as my balls pump their hot load deep inside her womb. I thrust, hold, withdraw slightly, thrust, hold, and feel her pussy spasming on my cock as she cums with me. For what feels like forever, until there are spots in front of my eyes and my arms and legs begin to tingle, I cum inside her and she cums right along with me. At last I am gasping for breath, spooning behind her again, holding her as she shudders and shakes. We both have random little muscle twitches in our arms and legs, random nerves firing off in the wake of massive electrical storms inside of us both.

We lay silently for awhile, catching our breath. Eventually Ava rolls over to look at me.

“I’ll get a charter lined up for you for this morning.”

“Okay,” I say.

“You’ve helped me more than you know. More than I can say.”

“That makes me very happy,” I say.

“If there’s ever anything I can do for you, please tell me.”

“Nothing besides visiting. Please. Whether you want casual sex or not. My home is open to you.”

Ava does me the courtesy of looking in my eye and saying, “I don’t know if I can do that anytime soon.”

I look into her eyes a long time and then nod. “Okay. Fair enough. But my door is open. I don’t want to get on a plane today and feel like I’m losing a friend when I only just found her.”

Her eyes sparkle with a hint of a tear. “That means a lot.”

I lean forward and give her a kiss on the lips which she gently returns.

Ava sits up to go.

“Actually, I do have one more request.”

She looks at me expectantly.

“When you write a song about me—”

“When I write a song about you?”

“Good point. On the album about me—”

“Ha!” she says, jaw dropped, smiling and shaking her head.

“If you do write a song about me, can it be more of a love song and less of a revenge ballad?”

Ava has the grace to laugh, and we both crack up.

“Seriously though,” I say. “Settle a bet for me. That one song about how you did something bad, was written for girls to give head to, right?”

“Oh god,” she says, putting her feet on the floor. “This is a paparazzi interview now. Save me.”

She sashays her way to the shower, and turns to look over her shoulder at the bathroom door. “If you can keep your smart mouth shut, I think you owe me one more taste of that cock before you jet.” Then she disappears.

I honestly wrestle with it, because I have a great line ready. Then I think of a compensation for myself. “After I nut on her face, I’ll say, ‘Look what you made me do!’ and then jump out.”

***

“You did not!” Charlotte says.

“Oh, yes I did,” I say.

“By yourself in the bed you said that out loud?”

“Well, no,” I admit. “But after I fucked her face pretty solidly and blasted her with cum I did say it to her.”

Charlotte grabs her knees and rolls sideways on the bed giggling. “Babe, that’s awful.”

“I know! I wanted to end on a less heavy note with her. Things were pretty serious.”

“I’ll bet you’ve never friend-zoned an eleven out of ten before,” she says, chin on her palm.

“Admittedly, no,” I say. “I was grateful she didn’t make me slam the door on her hands. She’s come that far.”

“She’s come further than you realize,” says Charlotte. “Two years ago she probably would have kidnapped you instead of asking you to fly out there.”

I chuckle and she gives me a look.

“Still,” she says. “It’s too bad. I have this vision of a three bedroom house where you spend a night in each room in turn, and she’d be a hell of a number two.”

I laugh in disbelief. “She’s not my type. And would you really be okay only sleeping with me one night in three?”

“As long as I still got a couple of loads from you each day, I could get by,” she says.

“Liar,” I say.

“Plus, she’d be out on tour sometimes so I’d get extra. And the third lady would probably be out acting or on photoshoots too.”

“So would you!” I say.

“Exactly. I told you, the most important thing to me is that you have your needs met. You meet all of mine.”

“I think at best you could handle another lady sleeping on my other side,” I say. “An extra wide bed so you could still get your snuggles in.”

“That’s a good point,” she says thoughtfully. “An extra wide bed with the understanding that most of the time only two of us would be home at any one time for you to have free use of. That could work better than separate bedrooms.” She taps her temple twice as if double clicking. “Fantasy updated.”

I laugh and shake my head. “So this mystery third lady would be an actress and a model too, huh?”

Charlotte nods. “Mm-hmm.”

“And I assume you know who it is already.”

“Mm-hmm,” she says.

“I don’t suppose I get to know who my third of three lovers is going to be?”

Completely seriously, she says, “You already know. But you’d never say it. Which is why I learned to read your mind a long time ago.”

I snort. “Oh really? Then—”

“—what am I thinking now?” we say in unison.

Charlotte puts her fingers to her temples and closes her eyes. “I see your cock… it’s coming towards my face… it’s jizzing in my hair!”

“I have been doing that kind of a lot lately, haven’t I?”

“Yes. The admiral loves hairjobs. No question. At first I was on the fence but then I noticed how voluminous and healthy my hair is getting.” She picks up handfuls from her shoulders and drops them. “You see? It’s incredible! Semen treatments! Who knew?”

I laugh again and shrug. “You’re not wrong.” Her hair is nearly down to her waist and something about winding it around my cock when I’m ready to finish and pumping a load right in the midst of it has been driving me wild lately.

“Seriously though. I don’t have to be a mind reader. You have a type.”

I nod. “True.”

She stands up and stretches. “And—you talk in your sleep.”

My eyes widen, thinking of my last night with Ava.

“Ha!” she says, running from the room. “First boy to the couch gets to cum in my hair and then brush it in!”

I grin and leap off the bed. I love this woman.

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When it’s time for bed and we slip beneath the sheets, she grips my cock tighter than ever.

“I really, really appreciate you interrupting your life to come here,” she says to me, her cheek laid on my chest.

“Do you feel like it’s helping?” I ask.

“Well, I didn’t wake up on the floor last night for the first time in a couple of weeks,” she says mildly.

“That’s an improvement,” I say.

“I know I haven’t...” she begins. “I know I haven’t been up to the sort of free use schedule you’re accustomed to, but— “

“No, no,” I say. “No. That’s Charlotte’s thing. And listen, I’m not saying I don’t benefit from it, but it’s not something I expect of anyone.”

Ava is quiet for a moment. “Thank you for going slow this time and letting me set the pace. It’s helping me more than you know.”

I squeeze her tight and kiss the top of her head.

Within a few minutes she drifts off, and her little twitches and finger movements keep me awake a bit longer with their pleasurable zings of sensation. Something about having her hand on my cock makes me feel like a king, and maybe that’s why I have the dream again, in more detail than ever before.

I am laying in my bed of luxurious furs, a four poster with curtains that hang down. I have a luxurious robe on under the blankets, and next to me is Ava, the royal cock-holder. My erection is once again a massive pillar under the furs, and her hand can’t even close around the shaft, but she does her best. Her hand does not move, but my cock is so hard that it feels ready to go off at any moment. I reach out and ring the bell that I know will call the royal consort since the queen is still away, though I can’t remember why. The curtains at the foot of the bed part, and a hooded figure once again reveals herself by dropping the cloak that covers her. Again it is a naked, stunning Kate Caldwell, glowing gold with a light from above or within. Her breasts are enormous and full, her hips curvy and her smile with an eyebrow cocked sardonically fills me with desire.

The furs and blankets part and withdraw, leaving me with an open robe and Ava’s hand wrapped around my enormous phallus. Kate climbs onto the bed and crawls towards me, and the fact that I’m about to cum already does not trouble me, since I am king and it is her privilege to take the royal seed however I choose to give it to her. As before, Ava does not relinquish her grip as she is supposed to, instead adding her other hand and therefore creating a full hold around my dick, fingertips barely touching on the far side. Kate kneels between my knees and rises up, cupping her breasts in each hand and moaning, and I realize that Ava is slightly stroking me with both hands. Cum rushes down the internal pipelines of my cock and bursts from the end like a torrent. Ava moves one hand to the head of my cock and uses it to aim at Kate, who receives the massive rush of cum with delight and arousal, putting a hand into her hair at the back of her head and grinning as she is splashed with hot liquid. My cock is like a firehose in my dream, spraying out under pressure and painting Kate like a cinnamon roll with glaze. Suddenly I am floating out of the bed into the air and Kate lays down, squirming and writhing with ecstasy as my cock continues to shoot semen down onto her in seemingly limitless supply as Ava barely does more than hold and aim it, hardly stroking or squeezing at all. My thighs and belly are wet with it, though Kate has seemingly a couple of gallons covering her at this point, and she is rubbing it into her massive, pillowy tits like lotion.

“Jack,” Ava says from my ear, and I ignore her. She’s not supposed to be involved with royal ejaculations and will need to be spoken to after this, and she’s definitely not supposed to interrupt.

“Jack, honey,” she says again, and have a sensation of falling up into my body again and jerk slightly when I hit the bed.

Ava has her hand around my cock and is slowly squeezing it at the base as I realize I’m in the act of cumming all over myself. My body feels tingly and strange to me, probably the result of a strange combination of withdrawing sleep paralysis and fading orgasm.

“Guh,” I say as my hips jerk and my last squirt of cum ejaculates from my cock.

She mumbles a soft little laugh, not letting go of my cock. I throw back the sheets and luckily I seem to have gotten most of the cum on myself rather than the bed.

“Did you jerk me off on purpose?” I ask.

“I ono,” she murmurs. “You were dreaming. I helped. I think.”

I pull her hand from my cock gently. “Nuh-uh,” she says. “I want it.”

“I’ll be right back and you can have it again,” I chuckle, getting up to clean myself off.

I slide back in beside her a couple minutes later and she immediately rolls towards me and wraps her hand firmly around the base of my cock again. I can’t help but smile at the magnet-like force exerted upon her, even in her sleep, and I drift off hard as a rock and fondly remembering the dream where I coated Kate Caldwell in an unearthly deluge of my cum.

I go back into the dream, from the beginning. I lay, a king, in bed with Ava, my royal cock-holder next to me. My cock stands straight up, huge and thick, and she lays next to me with her hand wrapped around the base. The only difference in the dream is that I am not bursting with a need to cum. I reach for the bell that will bring the royal consort, and Ava restrains my arm. Shocked, I look at her, and she puts a finger to my lips. She sheds her garments and straddles me, rubbing her body on mine, boobs dangling and nipples brushing across my chest. She slides back and my cock slips inside her--an incredible overstep for one of her station, as even the royal consort must be high-born, practically royalty herself. But as king, don’t I have the right to grant titles to whomever I please?

The royal cock-holder, who has now promoted herself to royal consort, begins to slide up and down the royal pole. It moves in and out of her with velvety smoothness, and her pussy is incredibly warm, almost hot. I look up and her breasts have grown quite a bit and are bouncing as she rides on the royal pole, up and down smoothly with little effort like a carousel horse. I close my eyes and relish the feelings. When I open my eyes, it is Queen Charlotte riding me and I reach up to grab her royal breasts, which feel absolutely incredible. Then she is Kate, the royal consort, throwing her head back and sliding a hand up her neck and one to cup her breast while I pinch her nipples. Kate leans down to kiss my neck and nibble my earlobe, and I grab her ass and start fucking her harder under my own power, slamming up into her.

Kate breathes on my ear. “Oh sire,” she says, “give me thy seed!”

“I shall,” I say to her. “Take my seed unto yourself, Kate! Take it all!”

I pound furiously, losing my rhythm, and then burst forth inside of her. My seed flows and flows, and with each thrust I bury myself deep inside of her.

“Oh Jack,” Kate whispers in my ear. “So much fucking cum.”

“Why dost thou speak so, Kate?” I ask, but as she leans back, I see that it’s not Kate anymore, it’s Ava. And I wake up.

Ava really is on top of me, riding me, with the blankets over her shoulder like a mantle and her boobs bouncing.

“You’re awake,” she says softly, and leans down to kiss my neck.

Feeling myself on fire with desire, having just cum with Kate in my mind, I grab her ass and do just what I did to Kate in my dream. I fuck her fast and hard, and she squeals in surprise and tightens up. I slow down and she relaxes.

“What were you dreaming about?” she asks in my ear.”You’re so hard I can’t believe it.”

“I was dreaming about fucking you,” I say, truthfully enough.

“Then why did you tell someone named Kate to take all of your seed unto herself?” she asks, and I hear the smile in her voice.

“I may have been having relations with more than one woman in the dream,” I say. “But! It was mostly you!”

She snickers and I roll over on top of her and look down into her eyes. “Is this okay?”

Ava hesitates, but nods. “Can you be gentle?”

“Of course,” I say.

I make love to her then, as Charlotte asked me to. I put a hand on Ava’s side above her hip and put my weight on one elbow and start slowly sliding my cock in and out of her pussy. Each time time I withdraw I plant a soft kiss on her lips, her cheeks, her forehead, and her jawline. I brush her hair tenderly off her forehead and she looks at me nakedly. Her eyes are truly striking, rimmed with darker blue, and I see nothing more than a frightened girl there. She is vulnerable and remaining open, allowing herself to be shown something new, so I treat her like I would treat Charlotte. And truthfully I do feel tenderness for her, affection that might one day turn into love for this version of her that is here with me right now. My heart is spoken for and I do not believe there is room for another woman inside of it, but I let what feeling I have come out and inform our union here in this Swedish bed tonight.

Perhaps it is because of the midnight handjob or the dream orgasm I had as Ava started fucking me in my sleep, but I am able to last quite a long time, slowly thrusting and pulling out of Ava, pivoting my hips around and attempting to find a spot that gives her more pleasure. Eventually I do find an angle that takes her breath away, so I work it until she cums. She takes my head in her hands and holds my forehead to hers when it is done, looking into my eyes.

“Cum with me,” she says. “Please, please.”

I work that angle as I let myself go, quickening my pace until I pass the point of no return. I look deep into her eyes and start to cum. I see her eyes slide out of focus as she does too, her body tensing, back arching her boobs up into my chest.

“Oh,” she breathes, “oh, my god... oh Jack... oh...” I see another wave of pleasure take her as I spend my real seed inside of her. I can almost feel the semen leaving my testicles, and I can certainly feel it spilling out of me. There is nothing on earth quite like cumming deep inside of a woman who is cumming at the same time.

We collapse onto the bed and I stay in place on top of her, holding my weight with my knees and elbows. I softly kiss her neck and cheek, but she pulls away and I roll off.

“What’s wrong?” I whisper, concerned.

“This,” she says, turning away from me. “I can’t let you make love to me. You don’t mean it.”

I pause. “I do mean it,” I say.

“I don’t mean that you’re lying or being dishonest,” she says. “I mean... it’s for someone else. You don’t love me.”

“I don’t... not,” I say, and it sounds weak. There is only one right answer, and that would be a lie. “I’m sorry.”

“You shouldn’t be. It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I brought you here.”

“I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you,” I say honestly.

“But you have no intention of leaving Charlotte for me, and I have no intention of sharing you,” she says flatly. It’s not a question.

“No,” I say quietly.

“So this has all been a mistake. A waste of time.”

“No,” I say again, laying a hand very gently on her shoulder. She flinches slightly but doesn’t pull away. “It’s been lovely. Truly.” I want to tell her that it’s been special for me, too, that I’ve been honored to be a part of her healing, but who am I to say such a thing? “It’s been experience, and good experience, for both of us.”

Ava softens a bit. “It has, hasn’t it? I’m not imagining that. I haven’t slept this well in weeks.”

“I think it’s been delightful. Not just the physical stuff. I liked sitting and hanging out with you today. I like that you’ve drawn strength from... my... well--”

“Vitality,” she says, and I hear a little smile.

“Yes,” I say. “My vitality.”

I try to think of a way to tell her that what I most want her to know is that this exists, that this connection can be sought and found and be a strengthening, positive influence in her life. I want to tell her that someone could love her for who she is, even if it isn’t me. But I realize that the experience has either shown her that, or not. Nothing I say can teach the deepest parts of her to feel safe, or how to open up to someone else. For better or worse, I think our time together is done.

“I want you to know I’m grateful,” she says, and I notice that she’s trembling.

“May I hold you?”

Ava says nothing.

“There’s a whole world out there,” I say. “They’ve got words and labels and definitions for things. But we’re here, now. We have this night, the two of us. There’s no one else.”

“Tonight we can be what we need to be,” she says softly, and I feel like I’ve just heard a preview of next year’s chart-topping single.

I put my arm around her, lacing my fingers through hers when I find her hand, and snuggle up close behind her. She calms slowly, and I can feel her heart rate settling. I put my head on her pillow, getting extra close, bringing my knees up behind hers.

“Thank you,” she murmurs again. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

I kiss her neck and breathe a sigh of contentment.

We fall asleep that way for the remainder of the night.

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Eventually I find her, dancing down on the main floor of the club with a cluster of fans and, perhaps, friends alike. I don’t see Gia again, and I spend most of my time chatting aimlessly in the VIP area waiting for it to get late enough for Ava to come down from what must be an astounding adrenaline peak.

At last we are back in the hotel room, and when the energy of the night has died down and Ava has showered, I find the same slightly hunched, somehow smaller woman in a t-shirt and sweats on the couch.

I sit down next to her and flip on the TV, offering my arm again. She cuddles in next to me, quietly, and rests a hand on my crotch, specifically seeking my balls. She breaths a sigh, almost contentment, almost relief, and we settle in. My cock gets hard, of course, and occasionally she wiggles her fingers or lightly strokes it. It’s affectionate but not overtly sexual, and I can almost feel her drawing strength from my vitality. She falls asleep on my chest once again, and this time I move us to the bed before I drift off as well. Half a night on the floor followed by a day of walking thousand-year-old stone streets and the late night afterparty have me wanting some quality time with a mattress.

We strip down again and climb between the sheets. She snuggles up, the same as the night before, right down to the hand around my cock. She doesn’t speak, but tonight she grips it tighter, lower. She holds it tightly as she drifts, then her grip slackens as she falls asleep. I lay awake a little longer, my cock frustratingly hard in her hand, but eventually I drop off as well.

Again the dream comes, and again I am king with a royal cock-holder and a royal consort. In the dream I don’t ask where the queen is, but she is away for some reason and so I must rely on the consort for my pleasure. In the dream the consort comes to me again and stands at the foot of the bed when I ring the bell. The cock-holder lingers as the blankets are pulled back, holding my erect penis which in my dream is easily a foot long and as thick as a large salami. The royal consort lifts her hood and drops her cloak and Kate Caldwell stands before me, glowing gold with some heavenly light. The royal cock-holder, rather than move away demurely and rise, holds on longer. I can tell that I am moments from cumming when Kate crawls onto the bed and moves toward me, but the royal cock-holder starts to sniffle. I look over and see that she is Ava, and she is sobbing quietly.

The dream breaks and I feel myself rising up into my body. My first feeling is frustration and I spend a second or a minute (who can tell with dream time) trying to claw my way back down, swimming against an upward current, fruitlessly wishing to hold the dream together long enough for Kate to get her mouth on my member. But as always once I know I’m dreaming, the illusion is shattered and self-awareness reasserts itself. Before I can shake my head at the absurdity of the premise, I realize that Ava really is next to me, sniffling and crying in her sleep. I roll onto my side to spoon her again, grateful that we’re still in bed at least this time. I put my arm over her and draw my thighs up to rest my legs against hers, even coming up under her feet with my own. I put my face in her hair and breathe deeply, smelling her shampoo, then settle in. I ignore my throbbing cock, which did not get the no-Kate-blowjob memo, and listen for Ava’s breathing to steady. In time, it does. She relaxes and after awhile she stirs and rolls back toward me. I lay on my back and to my surprise, she cuddles up in her sleep and puts a hand down on my balls, curling her fingers gently around them. They send a memo about the Ava-ball-grabbing to my cock which immediately grows back to full hardness. There’s no way for me to relieve myself without getting the sheets and myself damp and sticky, so I will myself back into sleep.

I wake again with daylight shining through the curtains, reminding myself that dawn comes late this time of year. Ava is laying next to me and I’m spooning her again, my left arm over her torso and cupping her right breast quite firmly. My cock is morning-wood-hard and directly in her butt cheeks. The whole scenario reminds me of the first time we had sex on the couch in Charlotte’s and my living room, months ago.

Ava seems to remember as well, because she grinds herself back against my dick and wiggles slightly, placing her hand over mine on her breast.

“Good morning,” she says.

“Good morning,” I reply, kissing her neck.

“I love the way that feels,” she says, pushing her tight, dancer’s ass back against me again.

“Me too,” I groan.

“Is it always that hard first thing in the morning?”

“Mostly. It’s definitely more acute when there’s a beautiful woman nearby.”

“Wanna shower with me again?” she asks.

What I want to do is shag her rotten, but I’m not here to follow my impulses. “Yes I do,” I say.

Ava rolls out of bed and trots to the bathroom. I watch her go and my cock aches for release. I was so hoping to slip it to her right there from behind and have a go. I hear her turning on the water and follow.

“Come on in,” she says.

I enter the shower and she is already kneeling, water cascading all around her.

“Water, water, everywhere, nor any drop to drink,” she says.

I shut the door behind me and step forward.

“Will you give me something to drink?” she asks, beckoning be forward.

“I think I’ve got something for you,” I say.

“Good,” she says. “Ava is feeling awfully thirsty, and she wants to swallow every drop of your cum.”

“That’ll work,” I say. “I’ve got a lot though. You sure you’re ready?”

In answer, she leans forward and gobbles me up. She starts jerking the shaft with one hand and bobbing her head. The water rains down around us and a thick curtain of steam slides over reality as she sucks my cock. She can take about half of my length now, a little more, before it starts hitting the back of her throat and gagging her. She really has gotten a lot better at giving blowjobs since we started this. My morning wood is like steel today and her tongue on the head feels amazing.

Ava pops off my cock and starts sucking on my balls while stroking my dick with her hand. She wraps her palm around the head and focuses her grip there while she licks at my nuts, the very thing that makes me cum quickly with Charlotte, too.

“Fuck, baby,” I say.

“I want that cum,” she says. “I want to make you feel good.”

She puts her mouth back on my dick and starts bobbing her head quickly.

“You want it now, don’t you?” I ask.

She nods. “Yes! Give it to me! Give Ava her drink!”

I put a hand on the back of her head and gently start to thrust forward. She looks up at me with her striking blue eyes and starts to moan.

“Oh, Ava,” I say. “I hope you’re ready for a big load.”

Ava nods, encouraging me.

“Finish me,” I say.

She puts both hands around my cock, seals her lips around the head, and sucks hard while she strokes.

“Oh... oh, oh! Fuck! Here it comes, baby! Here I cum!” I grunt and my cock explodes in her mouth.

Ava closes her eyes and holds my dick, pumping in between shots and holding while the cum shoots out. She is moaning and I notice that she’s not swallowing when she opens her mouth slightly and I see the cum pooling at the back of her mouth. She seems intent on draining me dry without swallowing a drop, continuing to stroke and lick the tip while my balls empty themselves of a full night and morning’s load into her waiting mouth.

When I stop cumming, she leaves a hand on my dick and pulls it out of her mouth. Then she opens her mouth to show me all of my cum, twirling her tongue back and forth and staring into my eyes. Then she closes her lips and spits a little onto her chin before slurping it back in. Finally she opens her mouth again, showing me everything, and then swallows in one big gulp, licking her lips and sticking her tongue out to show that she got it all like a pornstar.

“Holy shit!” I say. “That was fucking hot! Where did you learn to do that?”
She shrugs. “Porn.”

“What kind of porn do you watch?” I ask.

Ava stands and the water cascades down her incredible body. “Well, I’ve been watching mostly blowjob videos to pick up new skills.”

“Ah,” I say. “That educational porn I’ve heard about.”

She laughs. “Some of it turns me on, but the guys are usually not very hot. They just have big dicks.”

“Yeah. We dudes ignore the guys and imagine it’s our dicks getting blown, so there’s not much call for male casting beyond that, I assume.”

Ava puts some soap on her hands and rubs her belly and arms. “Do you watch porn?”

“Admittedly not as much as I used to,” I say. “Charlotte likes to watch what I like to watch sometimes.”

“Together?” she wrinkles her nose.

“Yeah. We’re big on shared experience. If it turns you on, why not do it? That kind of thing.”

“Huh,” she says and starts soaping her tits. “I guess we could try that today if you want.”

My hand unconsciously goes to my cock. “Hey, do you mind if I…?”

Ava opens one eye and sees me, then looks down at herself. “I wasn’t even thinking about that. Be my guest!”

I start stroking. “If you want to watch some porn, I could arrange that, sure. What do you like?”

“I don’t know that I like anything in particular.”

“I mean, you’ve seen things in the world. What arouses you?”

She thinks, pausing her hand movements. “I guess sometimes I get turned on but I’ve never thought much about it.”

“Do videos of girls sucking dicks turn you on? Or girls getting fucked?”

“I guess both. I don’t know. This is weird. Am I weird?”

“I don’t know that I’m a good judge of that,” I say. “I don’t lead a very sexually typical life.”

She laughs, soaping herself up again. “No, I guess not.”

“I mainly like blowjob videos and cumshots,” I say. “Eye contact turns me on.”

“Oh really?” she asks. “So you like to imagine splooging on a woman who’s looking into your eyes?”

I’m stroking pretty fast now, watching her tits. She’s spent an awful lot of time washing them.

“Well, yeah. I guess I do.” My breath is becoming ragged.

“So if I knelt down right here and looked up at your with my big baby blues and said, ‘Oh, daddy, cover me with your hot sticky cream,’ that would—AAH!”

She squeals as a jet of cum goes right into her open mouth. I start cumming right on command, and covering her with my hot sticky cream is exactly what I do. Her face, her tits, her hair, all get ropes of cum. It splatters on her cheek, and I aim at both tits. She giggles wildly, spitting and shaking her head under the shower water.

“Silly me for trying to wash myself with your big dick nearby,” she says. “Now I have to start over.”

“Yeah, I’d better get on out,” I say, and we laugh.

After showering we order breakfast and talk.

“So what’s next? Or, where’s next?”

“I don’t know,” she admits. “Next show is in Milan on Thursday of next week. Today’s Wednesday. So technically I can do whatever I want until next Wednesday.”

“If you had a private jet and you could go anywhere in the world…” I muse. “Where would you go?”

“I usually just go home to Rhode Island,” she admits. “I’m kind of boring.”

“When your life is travel, home becomes holiday. That’s how I feel after a couple weeks on the road for work.”

She nods. “Don’t have to go anywhere today, though.”

“True,” I say, not relishing the prospect of a day on the couch.

After breakfast, the couch is exactly where we go. She says she’s never seen Lost, so we turn it on and cuddle up. She puts her hand on my crotch and my cock responds, but beyond some extremely light petting, we just sit.

Despite the strangeness, I find that I am more or less comfortable here. We spend the morning this way, with no more sexual interactions. Apart from her need to place a hand on, around, or near my cock or my balls, it’s a fairly normal day of hanging out with a female friend that you’ve become very comfortable around. We order food when we feel like it, we laugh and talk, and we watch TV shows we don’t really care about just to pass the time. Apart from knowing Charlotte is at home just sitting around not getting boned by me, it’s a more or less enjoyable day.

Sometime after lunch and before dinner, she sits up.

“Show me some sexy porn,” she says.

“Okay,” I say, and choose a video of a Barbie-like blonde by the name of Savannah Saint giving a hell of a blow job.

On screen, Savannah is wearing sheer white lingerie and doing a little dance on the bed before kneeling and crawling towards the camera.

“She’s pretty hot,” says Ava, and begins squeezing my cock with a little more purpose.

“Yeah,” I agree, adjusting my shorts a little.

The porn star pulls the cameraman’s cock from his pants and starts to stroke and lick it while moaning obscenely. She pulls out his balls and licks them before there’s a cut and then he’s laying down and she’s sucking on his cock in earnest, up and down about halfway. She tries to take it deeper but can’t. “Shit,” she says. “I can’t fit it in!”

“This is much less exciting than stuff you and I have done,” says Ava.

“Well, yeah,” I say. “This is for people who aren’t friends and lovers with the most beautiful women on Earth.”

Ava laughs but looks at me for a moment. Then she slides her hand up my thigh inside of my shorts and wraps her fingers around my cock. I gasp with the pleasure and look at her, but she’s watching the TV again.

On the screen Savannah is still hard at work ostentatiously sucking the large dick in front of her. She jerks it with one hand and spits on the head, licking it with large, exaggerated licks.

Ava, meanwhile, has made a sort of loose cage out of her fingertips and is slowly dragging them up and down the head of my cock while applying just enough friction to drive me mad.

The scene cuts again and Savannah is now laying down with her head hanging off the bed upside down, and the cameraman is doing his best to fuck her throat while groping her tits.

“Whoa,” says Ava. “That’s crazy. You can see his dick moving in her throat.”

“It’s a little extreme,” I say.

“Have you ever done that?” Ava asks.

“Yeah,” I say. “It’s not Charlotte’s favorite position for deepthroating though.”

“Deepthroating,” she repeats. “I can’t even come close to that.”

“That’s okay,” I say. “You give great head. You’ve come a long way.”

“Damn straight,” Ava says. She hasn’t varied in her pace and continues with her light play on just the tip. I would have said this could never make me cum by itself, but I can feel myself getting closer to the edge. There’s something so erotic about her hand up my shorts and the lightness of her touch, as if we’re hiding it from someone.

Another cut has Savannah on her back with a dick in between her tits, and then sitting up with it thrusting up between them. She spits on it and throws her head back, evidently in the throes of pleasure.

Ava is swirling her fingertips around my cockhead now, skating through pre-cum and using it like lube to keep things slippery. I can’t believe how close I am to cumming from such slight contact.

Savannah is now stroking the dick on the video, right above her face, moaning and saying the filthiest things. “Give me your fucking cum,” she says, “make me your little cumslut! Make me your little fucking cumslut I need it so bad, I need your fucking cum, I’m such a dirty little slut I want it!” She gets her load of cum, sprayed all over her face and eyes as she moans and licks the tip occasionally, eventually winding up a dripping mess.

Ava gets close to my ear while it’s happening and whispers, “That’s just like what you did to me in the shower yesterday and today. Does that make me your little cumslut?”

Without warning I shoot my load into her hand and my shorts. She has no comment except a smile as she rubs the head and cum covers her palm and fingers. When I finish she withdraws her hand and looks at it, flexing and spreading her fingers which are coated in sticky white fluid. She looks at me and leans forward with her tongue out as if to lick her palm, watching my eyes grow wide, but then stops and giggles. She stands and goes to wash her hands, and I follow soon after to change my clothes.

When we’re settled back on the couch I ask her how she liked the video.

“There are parts that turn me on.”

“Like what parts?” I ask.

“Mostly it doesn’t turn me on to see a dick, but it makes me think about things I’ve done myself, and that turns me on.” She lightly caresses my cock through my pants. “And I’m not really attracted to women, but obviously she is hyper-sexualized and therefore undeniably sexy.”

“Yeah. It’s weird what we’ve done to sex.”

She shrugs. “I’m part of it with my shows and costumes and stuff. It is what it is. It’s like you said, it’s experience. People can take it or leave it.”

We watch TV, order dinner, and then watch a movie. I sense that these nights in are her only true down time, so I silence the voices in me that want to run off halfway around the world. The last thing I want to do is make it sound like I want to spend her money to amuse myself with some private jet flight to Bali that costs as much as some people make in a year.

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I have a choice to watch the show from a VIP room in back, or a box high in the back of the arena, which is a soccer stadium when it’s not playing host to concerts. I split my time between the two, though the time it takes to get from one to the other makes me avoid a repeat. I enjoy some of Ava’s music, the big singles mostly, but otherwise it’s not my style. She puts on a great show and I am amazed by the frenzy displayed by some of the fans.

At the after party, I see no one I recognize, which is hardly a surprise. There are undoubtedly people here not from Sweden, where I know no one, but I can’t tell who’s who at a glance. Ava is of course the VIP of the hour, and while I could probably follow her around without anyone caring, I’ve never been much of a follower. This isn’t a scenario in which she’s introducing me to people, and I begin to think I should have just gone home. The only way to entertain myself here would be to try and bang one of these super-hot Scandinavian girls, but the nature of my visit to make Ava feel better makes me feel like I probably ought not to.

I am therefore sitting alone in the VIP lounge in a Swedish nightclub probably looking as out of my element as I feel when someone speaks from behind me.

“Are you American?”

I turn and the woman sits down next to me on the couch.

“Gia,” she says, offering me her hand in a little overhand four finger clasp.

“Jack,” I reply before this settles in. “Yeah, I am.”

She smiles. Her black hair is highlighted in a deep red to match her full lips, and her leather ensemble is designed to draw out those colors as well as highlight her incredibly fit figure. “I thought so,” she says in her rich British accent.

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The music is loud here, but not so loud that we have to shout. It forces us to sit close, inside of each other’s bubbles of personal space.

I smile back. “What gave me away?”

“Your clothes and your discomfort,” she says, not unkindly, and I laugh.

“Definitely guilty on all counts.”

“Is it clubs you don’t fancy, or parties?” she asks.

“Yes,” I answer, and she smiles.

I glance around and see that Ava has slipped away someplace else.

“Are you Ava’s new fucktoy?”

I open my mouth to object, and then shrug. “You could probably make a case for that.”

“No second chances with someone like her. Easy to date, tough to lock down,” Gia says.

“Oh, I have a girlfriend,” I say, before I can overthink an answer.

Gia leans back and gives me an appraising look. “Now, that doesn’t peg you an American.”

“No?”

She shakes her head, smiling. “No. You’re all usually hung up on propriety and appearances. Sexually repressed.”

I nod slightly while looking down over the dance floor below us. “It’s certainly less that way here.” There are some very intimate dances going on between couples down there.

“Does your girlfriend know you’re here?”

I look back to Gia and nod. “We don’t hide anything from each other. And sexual repression is not...” I chuckle. “That’s not really on the menu for us.”

“Interesting,” she says. “A flexible worldview?”

I nod.

“How flexible?” she asks, leaning over and placing a hand on my knee.

I glance around, still not seeing Ava in view. Gia watches this.

“Darling,” I say expansively, “my worldview is positively gymnastic.”

“Yet you check for your mistress first.”

“She is... complicated,” I say. “I’d rather not hurt her feelings on this particular day.”

Gia looks at me for a long moment. “A man who can think with more than his prick.”

I look at her with a rueful smile. “For better and worse.”

She withdraws her hand from my knee.

“Maybe next time I meet you in a Swedish nightclub,” I say.

“No second chances with me, either,” she says without a trace of vindictiveness, rising to her feet.

I watch her go with regret, a feeling which grows as I watch her walk away from behind. The leather pants hug her incredible ass as she strolls out and away, and I blink and look more closely. Is that a zipper on the back of her pants? I sit for a moment. Ava still isn’t here. I’m either going to head back to the hotel room or go after Gia, and really, why wouldn’t I do that? To avoid offending Ava? It’s true that I’m here to help her, and it’s true that I don’t want to hurt her feelings, but I owe her no more fidelity than I owe Charlotte.

I stand and walk after Gia, making it out of the VIP section just in time to see her slip into the women’s restroom. I grimace. I’ve avoided hookups in public restrooms with great success until now. I hesitate for a moment before pushing through the door and stepping inside.

Gia is leaning over a sink, looking into the mirror and touching up an imperceptible imperfection in her makeup. Her eyes meet mine in the mirror without changing expression. I casually check for feet under stall doors, but most stand open and all seem to be unoccupied.

“Oh, we have the room to ourselves,” she says.

“Does this count as a second chance, or am I under the wire for the first chance?” I ask.

The corners of her luscious lips twitch.

“Lock the door, you tosser,” she says.

I lock the door and take a couple of steps toward her. She walks to meet me, a couple of inches taller in her heels, rising to maybe five foot ten, nearly my chin. She stops and looks up at me with her dark brown eyes.

“Is it true what they say about tall men?” she asks.

“Let’s fuck around and find out,” I say. She grins.

I lean in to kiss her and she kisses me, pressing her full lips into mine. She tastes like roses, wild roses, and when she bites my lower lip a familiar line about roses and thorns floats through my head. I wrap my arms around her and pull her close to me, pressing her belly to my stiffening cock. The kiss becomes fierce, hot, and as she licks her tongue across my lips I feel a surge of energy through my body. Gia jumps into my arms and wraps her legs around my waist.

I grab her ass, as much to support her as to satisfy my desires, and she moans into my mouth. I unzip her pants from the back and slide my fingers into the cleft between her legs and find nothing but smooth skin and wetness around her pussy. I trace a finger gently between her nether lips while I meet her tongue with my own and she gasps.

“Get that American cock inside me,” she whispers.

“Hold on tight,” I say, and she tightens her grip around my shoulders with her arms as I shift awkwardly to unzip my fly and get my cock out of my pants. I pull her hips slightly away and press my cock into her pussy, which is so wet that I slide inside without trouble.

“Oh, fuck,” Gia says in her sexy accent.

My cock fills her up, and I relish the feeling of being sleeved in hot, new flesh for a moment before I begin to bounce her against me. I grip her ass tightly in both hands and use my arms to pull her up away from me before thrusting my hips forward slightly and dropping her onto my cock. From the first, she moans loudly and her kisses become hungrier and more aggressive. There’s really nothing she can do except tighten her legs around my waist on the downstrokes, so she does, but otherwise she’s at my mercy. She is speared on my cock and her world is our union, and after a few slow-paced strokes I begin to fuck her.

I catch a glimpse of us in the mirror, both nearly fully clothed still, and only her ass hanging out above the fluttering flaps of her unzipped pants give it away. I can barely see the bottom of my cock when it’s not inside her, protruding from my fly like a fleshy tree branch. I slap her ass and squeeze it, pulling her cheeks apart as I thrust my hips upward, impaling her on my cock over and over again.

Gia drops her forehead to my shoulder, panting and moaning loudly, trying her best to grind her clit against my pubic bone through her pants and mine. “Harder,” she moans, “deeper, baby.”

I turn around and push her up against the wall. The leverage helps me go both faster and deeper, and I am breathing hard by now with the exertion. Her hot pussy feels amazing on my cock, and as I lean forward and push up with every stroke, I have a better view of her face now. Her head is back and up against the wall, and the expressions on her face are beautiful and full of pleasure. I kiss her mouth and she is unable to do more than allow it, moaning and whimpering until I feel her tighten her arms, legs and pussy and convulse against me, rolling her hips and crying out.

I shift my grip from her ass to her thighs, transferring her weight to my hips as I fuck her and use her legs as handles. Her build is a dancer’s build, and her muscles are firm and tight so she has no trouble holding herself up partially with her arms and her stomach, too. I feel sweat all over my body, uncomfortable in my slacks and long-sleeve shirt but pushed far to the outer edge of my awareness in this moment. She’s looking into me with her deep brown eyes and biting her lower lip, brows drawn together with concentration, and I’ve rarely seen such a beautiful, sexy sight in my life.

“Give it to me,” she whispers. “Give me all you have.”

I grunt, pinning her in place and shuttling my cock in and out of her as fast as I can to finish myself off. It works, and I burst inside her, straining up on my tiptoes to pump her full of my seed. She moans louder than ever and cums again on my cock as I give her all I’ve got at the same time.

“Oh Gia,” I say, my forehead on her breastbone. “Holy shit.”

“Fuck, baby,” she says. “This is… holy fucking shit is right. I want this every night!”

“I’ll give you my number,” I say. “Next time you’re stateside we should do this again. Hey,” I say, “look! You’re levitating!”

She looks down at my cock sticking out of her pussy and her legs around my waist and giggles in spite of herself. “So corny!” she says. But she smiles.

I pull my dripping cock out of her and set her down. She drops to her knees and immediately takes my cock into her mouth, slurping our combined juices off and cleaning me up.

“Oh shit,” I groan. My cock is still hard but very sensitive from cumming only moments ago.

“You taste fucking good, baby,” she moans, looking up at me and wrapping her luscious lips around my shaft.

“You look fucking good, too,” I say. “With or without my dick in your mouth.”

“Mmmf,” she says. “I wish we had time for more.”

“Maybe next time we meet in a Swedish night club,” I say with a half-smile.

She smiles with her eyes as she bobs her head quickly on my cock, sucking with purpose now, stroking with one hand and fondling my balls with the other.

“Whoa,” I say, because I feel a sudden welling within me.

I see her eyes flash with desire and she goes even faster. I’ve heard of daisy-chaining orgasms but never experienced it myself. Usually cumming makes me last longer, but this all-out assault so soon after, before recovery, feels like it’s making me skip the line.

“Oh fuck, Gia! I’m gonna—oh—oh!”

I am so caught off guard by this experience that I buck my hips forward, hard, right as my cock explodes. I cum down her throat a bit, making her cough, but she takes my cum in her mouth nonetheless, eyes watering and hand flying up and down my shaft. My knees buckle as my cock flexes in between those gorgeous lips, and she swirls her tongue around the tip of my dick as cum shoots into her mouth. She doesn’t let a drop escape, swallowing it down without breaking eye contact.

“Oh fuck,” I say. “I didn’t know I could do that!”

“Not everyone can,” she says, licking my cockhead. “Something told me you could.” She sucks my cockhead one last time, kissing the tip before rising to her feet.

“I’ll take that number,” she says, walking to her clutch on the counter and handing me her phone.

“Fuck yeah,” I say. “Text me so I have yours. Damn, girl.”

She zips up the ass of her pants, something I’ve never seen before, and then winks at me as she walks past. “Might want to tuck that monster away.”

I stuff my cock back into my pants as she unlocks the door and heads back out into the club. I wait a few seconds and then follow, making my way to the men’s room for a breather and to splash some water on my face.

Looking myself in the mirror, I grin and shake my head. “Holy shit,” I murmur, and head back out to find Ava.

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We talk times and schedules and I get dressed and head out for the day. I had been concerned about spending a whole day on the couch snuggling, so the opportunity to get out in the fresh air in a new place is very appealing to me. I also have a chance to call Charlotte and talk to her.

Charlotte is very supportive and unconcerned, except at the idea that I won’t be getting enough sex. She tells me to take my time and let the situation breathe, reminding me that I shouldn’t feel stressed about developing feelings for Ava if things head that way. I assure her that while the situation is intimate and tender, my feelings towards Ava don’t extend past helping a friend in need. Ava’s personality just doesn’t match my own well enough, even though this side of her I’ve seen in the past few hours has been sweet, more humble and vulnerable. Her lifestyle is also too far removed from reality for me, and is unlikely to ever change.

“If the moment is right, try to make love to her at least once,” Charlotte says. “Give her everything like it’s me, so she knows what it’s like.”

“I’ll try,” I say, shaking my head. “I don’t like doing that with anyone but you.”

“Well, then give her what you gave Eliana, at least,” she suggests.

“I think it’s gotta be a two way street, and she and I don’t have that. She’s not open to it,” I say.

“It’s amazing how often I have to talk you into banging other hot broads,” she says playfully.

I surrender at that, and we talk as I roam the city. We hang up when I realize that it’s midnight for her and my day is just beginning.

“I’ll send you something,” she says as we say our goodbyes.

“Like what?”

“You’ll see. Go someplace private.”

I go to a park and sit on a bench alone and check my email. A large file from Charlotte containing long blocks of text and also pictures of a very particular type. I opt to go check in to a hotel room for a couple of hours so I can do this justice, and it’s just as well. I have a whole day to kill.

Once I’m settled in a nice suite in a nearby hotel, I open it up and begin to read.

Once upon a time in an enchanted forest there lived three beautiful maidens named Lucy, Kate, and Charlotte. They were each very comely and fine, each bustier than the last, and all three had lived together in the woods as long as they could remember. They liked to walk in the forest each day, arm in arm, to gather berries and nuts and mushrooms and anything else they could find. Once they had found a most handsome and comely mushroom, and when they had licked it and sucked it and held it tightly, it gave them gallons of the most delicious, hot, sticky cream.

Then, after they all went home and did their chores, Lucy went out all alone and found a way to get all the sweet, white cream all to herself. When she came home, her dress straps were broken and it was bunched around her waist, and she was absolutely covered in sticky cream. Charlotte and Kate had to help her get undressed and fill their kettle with water to heat over the fire so that she could get cleaned up.

“Oh my!” said Charlotte. “You sure have a lot of cream on you!”

“I know,” said Lucy. “My eyes are practically stuck shut!”

“I wish I knew you were going out there,” pouted Kate. “I would have loved some cream for myself!”

“I got it off of my arms, but there was just too much,” said Lucy. “Could one of you help get it off of my face and my breasts?”

“I can help get it off of your face,” said Charlotte.

“I can help get it off of your breasts,” said Kate.

So Charlotte and Kate each got a brush and tried to brush off all of the sticky cream, but it did not work very well at all. Lucy’s hair stayed stuck to her face, and her cheeks squished and moved, but no matter how much Charlotte scrubbed at them, the sticky cream did not go away.

“Those brushes are much too rough,” said Lucy. “Don’t you have anything softer?”

So Charlotte and Kate each got washcloths and tried to rub off all of the sticky cream, but it did not work very well at all. Lucy’s breasts wobbled and jiggled as Kate rubbed them with the washcloth, but the sticky cream did not go away.

“Those washcloths are much too dry,” said Lucy. “Don’t you have anything wetter?”

So Charlotte and Kate each dipped their washcloths into a bowl of water fresh from the well, but they still did not work very well at all. Lucy’s lips and cheeks became redder, and her nipples became harder, but no matter how much Charlotte and Kate rubbed her, the sticky cream did not go away.

“Those washcloths are much too cold,” said Lucy, shivering. “Don’t you have any warm water yet?”

Charlotte winked at Kate. “Yes,” said Charlotte, “I think the water from the kettle is warm enough now.”

But then Charlotte dipped her washcloth into the bowl of cool water fresh from the well and put it on Lucy’s cheek.

“Does that feel better?” asked Charlotte, smiling at Kate.

“No,” said Lucy sadly. “That feels just as cold as before.”

Kate dipped her washcloth into the same bowl as Charlotte and passed it over Lucy’s breasts.

“Does that feel better?” asked Kate.

“No!” said Lucy. “It still feels just as cold as before! I will never be clean! The only parts of me that I could clean were the parts I could reach with my tongue.”

Charlotte looked at Kate. Kate looked at Charlotte. Lucy could not look at anyone because her eyes were still glued shut by sticky cream. She had been standing naked in the cabin for a long time, and now she began to shiver.

“We could use our tongues to help and clean you,” said Charlotte, looking at all the cream on Lucy’s face and neck.

“Licking myself is how I got clean in the forest glade earlier,” said Kate, passing her tongue over her lips.

“Okay,” said Lucy. “Anything! Please, lick me!”

So Charlotte and Kate began to lick and kiss the cream off of Lucy’s face and breasts. Charlotte licked Lucy’s cheeks and her neck, and Kate licked Lucy’s breasts, starting on top near to her nipples. Very quickly, the cream started to dissolve in their mouths as they licked and sucked on Lucy’s skin. Charlotte and Kate licked and licked all over Lucy’s face and breasts for quite some time until they were nearly halfway done.

“Oh, my,” said Lucy. “I did not know that being licked could feel so wonderful!”

As Lucy said this, Charlotte started to lick and kiss around Lucy’s mouth, and Kate took one of Lucy’s nipples into her own mouth and started trying to suck the cream off.

“Oh!” cried Lucy. “OH! I’m.. I’m tingling! I’m—!”

And with that, Lucy pressed her legs together tightly and fell onto the bed, shaking.

“Lucy,” said Charlotte, climbing over her to the other side of the bed. “What’s wrong?”

But it seemed that Lucy had fallen into a deep, enchanted slumber. No matter how hard they tried to wake her, Lucy stayed asleep. Finally, they decided that one of them should go back to the mushroom to see if some fresh cream would break the spell and rouse Lucy from her dreams.

So Kate took a small pail and went out into the magical forest to find the hidden glade where the mushroom stood. She walked and walked until she thought she found the right place, but there was only a small mushroom where the big, handsome, meaty mushroom had been before. Lucy hadn’t had time to tell Charlotte and Kate about what she had seen or done, and so Kate grumpily went over to the mushroom and glared at it. She was so cross that she sat down right on top of the mushroom to squish it flat.

Kate folded her arms over her large breasts, furrowed her brow, and pouted out at the forest as hard as she could. Suddenly she began to feel something strange happening beneath her. She scooted backward in surprise as the small mushroom began to grow and grow, to thicken and thicken, and to lengthen and lengthen. All at once Kate realized that this WAS the handsome, meaty mushroom, and had been all along! She was sitting upon the pine needle-strewn ground, and here the mushroom was coming up right in between her spread legs, towering above her.

Kate was so excited that she leaned forward and gave it a big hug, wrapping both hands around it, pressing it between her large breasts, and pressing her face right up to it, showering the tip with kisses. She felt its stiffness under its soft layer of outer skin, and the pulsating, dreamy warmth made her feel safe and calm.

“I must figure out how to get the mushroom to give me the cream all by myself like Lucy did,” said Kate. “That sweet, hot cream is so delicious that it must be magical, and maybe if I bring some back for her, it will help break the enchantment!”

Kate remembered how hard they had all had to work licking, kissing and even sucking on the mushroom’s tip in order to get their cream earlier in the day, so she decided to do all three. She wrapped both hands tightly around it, and leaned forward to stick her tongue out.

Kate drew her tongue right up the side of the mushroom, all the way to the top, where she kissed the tip. To her surprise, the mushroom twitched and seemed to grow a little bit thicker.

Kate tried licking all around the crown of the mushroom, kissing it as she went. To her delight, the mushroom twitched again and seemed to grow a little bit longer.

Kate tried doing what she had seen Charlotte do and stuffed as much of the tip of the mushroom into her mouth as she could, sucking on it and wiggling her tongue around it a little bit when it reached the back of her mouth. To her amazement, the mushroom did more than twitch, it flexed and grew harder and straighter in her hands. The tiniest bit of sweet, sticky cream leaked out of the tip as she held it in her mouth and she savored it as she swallowed it down her throat.

This taste of the cream made Kate feel so much excitement and so much desire for more that she tried to fit even more of the mushroom into her mouth. She pushed it further and further, and then she gagged and felt the most wonderful feeling she had ever felt! It came from down in her pussy and made her feel tingly all over. She was almost overwhelmed by the good feeling, but when it faded and passed she knew she had to have it again.

Kate opened her mouth as wide as she could and wrapped her lips around the tip of the mushroom, sucking on it and pushing her head down on top of it. The head of the mushroom went back further and further, and when she gagged again the feeling from her pussy was even stronger. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she made a funny noise that she’d never made before, kind of like a humming sound that made her gasp for air. She also heard a funny noise like a “thwip!” from her dress, but she didn’t look down.

This time Kate didn’t take the mushroom out of her mouth, but instead started to move her head forward and back right at the place where the mushroom made her gag. Every couple of seconds she would feel that wonderful, tightening feeling coming up her body, and instead of letting it fade away, she kept it strong by making the mushroom go to the top of her throat again and again. Instead of making her feel sick, it was making her feel good to gag, so she kept doing it faster and faster.

Suddenly, Kate heard the strange “thwip” sound again, and her dress became very loose. Then she heard the “thwip” again, and again, and again, and to her great surprise, her dress fell open from her very busty breasts all the way down to her long legs! She pulled her head off of the mushroom and looked down at herself to see that she was completely naked all down the middle, and when she looked back up at the mushroom, she watched it grow thicker, longer, and woodier than ever.

Kate looked down at her large breasts, now hanging free, her tight stomach, now completely uncovered, and her sweet little pussy, now bare in front of the mushroom, and then back up at the mushroom itself. The mushroom was now far too thick, long and hard for her to possibly fit into her mouth, but it looked so good to her, and she was so excited about how good the sweet, sticky cream would be, that she pulled the remains of her dress off all the way and put the mushroom tip back into her mouth.

Even though it looked too big to possibly fit in there, she decided there must be some enchantment at work because this time the mushroom not only fit easily into her mouth, it started to go down her throat! Kate felt the tingling in her pussy get stronger than ever, and the mushroom in her mouth got harder and hotter than ever, until she could hardly stand it. The feelings inside of her got stronger and stronger, the mushroom tip went further and further down her throat, and just as she felt a surge rush through the mushroom that she knew meant a thick load of hot cream was coming, she was overcome by her own good feelings and her whole body started to shake and tremble. She tried to cry out with joy but her mouth was plugged by the mushroom, so instead she hummed. The mushroom started to blast inside of her throat with cream, and she pulled her head back so that she could taste it. Just as it had with Charlotte and Lucy, it filled her mouth with cream so quickly that she had to take it out as she struggled to swallow it all, so the mushroom sprayed her face with it instead. The cream was so sweet, so hot, and so sticky, that Kate felt her body shake even more and she screamed aloud with happiness.

“Oh, yes! Oh, yes! YES! YES!”

Kate held the thick, hard mushroom as tightly as she could as it sprayed her face and chest down with cream. She opened her mouth wide to catch as much as she could, but each time her mouth overflowed, she felt it dripping down her neck to her breasts, from her breasts to her stomach, and from her stomach to her pussy, and from her pussy down her thighs. She could hardly remain upright and kneeling as she became completely covered in cream, and she was enjoying it so much that she forgot to fill her small pail.

Eventually the mushroom stopped gushing sweet cream, and Kate, completely naked and covered in sticky, hot juice, let it go and lay down on her back to catch her breath.

I finish Charlotte’s story and blink.

“Holy shit,” I say aloud, looking around the room. I hardly remember starting to masturbate, but here I am with my cock sticking out of my fly and cum all over my temporary bedsheets.

I text Charlotte my appreciation and relax for a few minutes. Swedish TV is an odd mix of American shows dubbed into Swedish, American shows subtitled into Swedish, and a couple channels that have incomprehensible local programming as well.

I don’t much feel like museums and tourist attractions, but Stockholm is a fascinating place, surrounded by waterways and blanketed in a sense of history and time. I walk the streets and take a boat ride down the river. The day is short, with the sun setting not long after lunch in the mid-afternoon, and I end up buying some better cold weather gear to supplement what I brought.

A few hours before the concert I arrive at the venue and find Ava just leaving the stage after some sound check preparations. She is wearing a tight leathery costume with knee-length high heeled boots, and unsurprisingly back in her pop star persona. I am sitting in her dressing room when she breezes in with two assistants attending to her needs and thoughts.

Ava gives several instructions and sends them both away before turning and looking at me, her mind three hours ahead where she’ll be singing and dancing for thousands of screaming fans. She softens slightly.

“Hey,” she says. “You enjoy the day?”

“This is a cool place,” I say. “You doing all right?”

“I can’t think about that now,” she says.

“Fair enough,” I reply. “Is there anything I can do for you before the show?”

“No,” she says. “I’ve got teams of people getting everything ready.”

“I meant is there anything I can do for you before the show,” I say, smiling.

“Well, actually,” she says. “When it gets down to the last hour or so, there’s not much I can do but wait and I’m so amped up that I go a little crazy in here. If you want to stick around...” she smiles, and puts a booted leg up on a chair to spread her legs.

“You need a way to work off some energy,” I say.

“Clear my head,” she adds.

“I can stick around.”

I do stick around.

It’s forty-five minutes to showtime when she comes back into the dressing room, still wearing the leather number. It has a halter top with a miniskirt and a lot of skin showing above and below on all pieces. She breezes in, locks the door, and turns to me with a look of absolute hunger in her eyes.

“Hey there,” she says, and walks straight over to me. She straddles me and starts undoing my belt.

“Hey yourself,” I say. “Holy shit you’re hot.”

She lets out a little growl and yanks my pants down. My cock springs free and she spits on it and then lowers herself onto it without preamble.

To go from bored in a dressing room in Sweden to cock-deep in Ava Sinclair’s pussy in sixty seconds is a little overwhelming to say the least, but I can’t complain. She rides me that way, fully dressed, minus the leather panties she was wearing under the mini-skirt last time I saw her, evidently, pushing me back into the pillows of the couch I was reclining on. After a minute she rises and turns, this time squatting on the couch facing away from me and lowering herself onto my cock with her ass pointed at me, a sort of standing reverse-cowgirl. I watch my cock disappear into her pussy and groan. She’s so tight because of the muscles she’s using to squat, and the way she’s bouncing is really a remarkable feat of athleticism. I realize I’m not going to last long even though it’s only been a couple of minutes.

“Oh shit, Ava,” I say. “If you keep doing that, I’m going to cum!”

In response she bounces twice as fast and sure enough, thirty seconds later I’m blowing my load into her pussy.

“OH fuck!” I grunt, bucking my hips up into her and grabbing her waist to pull her down so I can pump deep inside her.

Ava moans loudly, too loudly, really, and when I’m done shooting I let her go. She pulls off and stands.

“Sorry about that,” I say.

“Fast and hard is exactly how I wanted it,” Ava says. “I’ve got to be in hair and makeup five minutes ago.” She adjusts the skirt and then pulls on the pair of panties she had in her pocket. “Now I get to do a show with your cum in me.”

She unlocks the door and leaves before I can reply, leaving me to hurriedly stuff my sticky, softening cock into my pants.

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Forty-five minutes later we have a spread of food laid out before us and a movie playing on the TV. We eat and chat, and when we’re finished, I stand up. “I’m gonna go slip into something more comfortable,” I say, gesturing to my bags which were brought up shortly after my arrival. “Your ensemble looks more cozy than my traveling clothes, which I have apparently been wearing since yesterday.”

Ava laughs. “Go for it.”

I come back out a few minutes later having freshened up, wearing a t-shirt and athletic shorts, my standard “lounging around the hotel room” clothes. Ava has cleared a spot for me on the couch and I flop down next to her, holding my arm out for her to get under, which she does. She snuggles up to my chest and curls up against me and we watch the movie for awhile. I gently stroke her back and play with her hair, trying to help her feel safe.

I begin to suspect she’s fallen asleep, and sure enough, she’s out hard. I’m tired as well after traveling so I shut off the TV and start to drift.

When I wake up a few minutes later, neck at an odd angle and legs dying to stretch out, I gently squeeze her shoulders. “Let’s go to bed,” I say, and she stirs slightly.

We stand slowly and move to the bedroom. There is some brushing of teeth and toilet flushing, and then we are standing on either side of the bed.

“So…” I say.

“I, uh…” she begins at the same time.

We laugh.

“Honestly,” she says, “I usually sleep naked.”

“Me too.”

“That doesn’t have to be weird, right?” she asks.

“Nothing we haven’t already seen,” I say.

Ava pulls her t-shirt over her head, revealing her breasts, and as she pulls down her sweats I shuck off my shorts and shirt as well. My eyes are drawn to her nakedness as hers are to mine, and my erection of course reveals any secrets about my interest in her. We pull down the covers and get in bed. I lay my arm out and she snuggles up next to me, her breasts pushing into my ribcage, putting her thigh over mine and her head on my shoulder. My arm goes around her and rests on her hip, and she wraps a hand lightly around my dick.

“Is that okay?” she says softly.

“Yeah,” I say, stretching and relishing the feeling of her fingers.

“It’s okay if I don’t... go further?”

“Absolutely. As long as you don’t mind it being hard. My body wants it but my mind wants to sleep.”

“Okay,” she says in a small voice. “Thank you.”

I kiss her on the top of her head again.

“Goodnight, Ava.”

“Goodnight, Jack. Thank you for being here.”

She drifts off quickly, her breathing becoming deep and regular. Occasionally she twitches a bit in her sleep, causing her fingers to move slightly or squeeze together. As I doze, those moments wake me with little buzzers of erotic pleasure, pulling me from sleep slightly and making me feel oddly pampered. I sleep and I dream of being a king with a royal cock-holder, a beautiful damsel from the kingdom whose job it is simply to hold the royal prick while I sleep. In my dream, that particular relationship is platonic, and when it’s time to be satisfied I ring a bell and a consort comes into the bed to deal with the reality of the erection. The royal cock-holder looks a lot like Ava, and the consort looks like Kate Caldwell. As the consort slides under the blankets to get down to business I wake up, irritated that I didn’t get to see the dream through. The bed next to me is empty though the sun has yet to rise, and I sit up and look around the room. I hear a sniffle and my brain wakes up completely. Ava is curled up on the floor naked by the side of the bed. I roll over and reach down to brush her shoulder.

“Ava,” I whisper. “Come up here, sweetie.”

She doesn’t respond and I realize she’s asleep, having some sort of bad dream.

“Ava,” I say more loudly, shaking her shoulder a little more firmly. “Ava. Wake up.”

No response. Knowing how violent night terrors can be, I decide to play it safe. I turn on one of the bedside lamps and gather the comforter and a couple of pillows in my arms and lay down on the carpet next to her. I carefully slip a pillow under her head and gently spoon up behind her and put the blankets over us, annoyed that my erection is still present and pressing against her butt cheeks, willing it to go away unsuccessfully. But after a few minutes she relaxes and starts breathing regularly again, so I consider it a success. I think I’ll be awake a long time after this, but the next thing I remember there’s dawn light streaming in through the windows and I open my eyes to see Ava’s face looking at me from a few inches away.

Her hair is pulled back so I can see her face and she is looking at me steadily.

“Good morning,” I say.

“Good morning,” she whispers. “You came and found me.”

“You were having a nightmare but I couldn’t wake you,” I say.

“So you slept on the floor with me so I’d feel safe.”

I nod. “It worked. You calmed right down.”

“Of course it worked,” she said. “You make me feel safe. Your manhood makes me feel safe.”

It’s then that I realize she’s laying quite close to me and my penis is erect, sandwiched against her stomach. I don’t have a response for her, so I say nothing.

“I want to make you feel good,” she says.

“You don’t owe me anything,” I reply.

“Not as payment,” she says. “Because you make me feel good. I want you to feel like I feel. And it just so happens that you taught me how to do that.”

I smile. “Okay. If you feel good about it.”

“Do you feel good about it?” she asks with a slight trepidation.

“I feel great about it,” I say. “I’m here for what you need. That’s why I got on a plane, with Charlotte’s blessing, by the way.”

Ava drops her eyes. “I need to call her.”

“She’s good,” I say. “She knows you pretty well and loves you. She knows you’ll talk when you’re ready.”

Ava looks back up at me. “Will you take a shower with me?”

I nod and smile.

The shower is spacious with three gold shower heads dispensing water from three different directions. We turn them all on and step in, and the sight of the rivulets of water coursing down her tall, slender frame is incredibly arousing. She lets her hair down and shakes it out under the water, flipping it back over her head when she’s done. Always a tit man, I can’t help but stare at the way her breasts move and shake as she does these things, and she sees me watching and smiles.

“Sorry,” I say.

“Don’t be,” she says.

“You’re just so... gah,” I say.

“That’s a new one,” she giggles.

“Sexy just doesn’t come close,” I say. “It’s so much more than that.”

Ava kneels down in front of me and I adjust the nozzles so none are spraying on her face. “How much more?” she asks, looking up at me with wide eyes as she takes my cock in her hands.

I groan and she takes my cock into her mouth slowly, swirling her tongue around the head and stroking it slowly with both hands. “I want to make you feel good,” she says, slipping it out and jerking it rather quickly. “I want to make you cum and take care of you.”

She starts to give me what I can only describe as a very tender blowjob. It is gentle, mostly suckling on the head while her hands stroke the shaft. There is no lust or urgency, and it’s almost like she’s making love to me with just her mouth. The superstar isn’t here. The girl who is kneeling before me is just a girl, and I’m just a boy, and she wants to make me feel good. It feels like she’s drawing my orgasm out, not from my cock or my balls or even my groin, but rather from a secret corner of my soul. I know that might sound silly, but that’s how it feels. I feel an orgasm coming that is more emotional than physical, and as she looks into my eyes I know it’s going to be a big one.

“I’m gonna cum, Ava,” I say. “It’s gonna be a lot— oh!”

Ava pulls my cock out of her mouth and rests it against her cheek and I feel an energy gathering from each of my limbs and flowing to my center, a flash of heat and electricity deep in my gut, and then the cum starts to flow. It gushes out onto her cheek as she strokes and draws my cock across her face and lips. Cum covers her lips and then her other cheek as she opens her mouth and looks up at me with arousal and satisfaction. She slides my cock across her forehead and paints herself with my seed, then back across her cheeks again as I keep cumming, moaning softly and bucking my hips gently.

“Ohhh, Ava,” I say, bracing an arm on the wall as she continues to stroke me, pouting her lips out and rubbing my cockhead against them, coating them in sticky white cum, which I see her tongue flit out to sample time and again. She leans back into the spray from the shower and the hot water mingles with the cum to wash it off her face. She leaves her hand on my shaft until my cock stops twitching, then leans forward and sucks it clean.

“Wow,” I say, trying not to fall down. “Wow.”

Ava smiles, still rinsing her face under the hot water. “Good,” she says.

We finish showering and order some breakfast.

“I’ve got to get my game face on now,” she says apologetically. “I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to do the show tonight, but thanks to you I will.”

“That’s great,” I say. I hadn’t realized just how dire things were. “I’m really glad to hear that.”

“I’ve got a routine, though,” she says. “It’s nothing personal. Would you mind if I did my thing today?”

“Not at all. I can go exploring and occupy myself. I’ve never been to Sweden.”

“Do you want to come to the show tonight?” she asks, not making eye contact for the first time.

“Oh,” I say, knowing there’s only one right answer. “Yes, definitely.”

She smiles and looks up at me. “I can get you pretty good tickets. I know a gal.”

I snort a laugh and she laughs too.

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Charlotte and I have just finished reenacting my penthouse encounter with Sydney Swinton for the second time since it happened. She’s mad with lust by the end, unlike Sydney was, and so after I toss her a towel she crawls towards me across the floor.

That’s why I have my phone in my hand when it starts to ring with an unknown number as I flop down on the couch. I toss it down and as Charlotte reaches me she glances over at it.

“Oh!” she exclaims. “That’s Ava’s number.”

“Why would she be calling me?” I ask. “She left in quite a huff.”

“Quite a huff with me,” Charlotte says. “Not you.”

True.

“Also I don’t have my phone and haven’t for the last... well, quite awhile now,” she says, answering the phone and tapping speakerphone, holding it out to me.

“Hello?” I ask.

“Hi,” says Ava’s voice over the speaker.

“Hi,” I say. “Who’s this?”

“It’s Ava,” she says.

Charlotte, meanwhile, has taken my cock into her hand and is trying to get it back to full hardness. She is holding it up and licking it from underneath, bottom to top, in a very ostentatious and distracting manner.

“Oh, hey Ava,” I say. “Been awhile.”
“I know,” she says. “I’m sorry.”
“No need,” I reply. “How have you been?”

“Lousy,” she says. “I’m... I’m really struggling, actually.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Do you want me to get Charlotte?”

Charlotte shakes her head and takes one of my balls into her mouth and rolls it on her tongue.

“No, that’s okay,” says Ava. “I was actually hoping to talk to you.”

Charlotte gives me a nod and continues doing what she’s doing. I’m having a very hard time focusing on the conversation.

“Okay,” I say with a strangled grunt. “What can I do for you?”

“I was wondering if... well, I’m in Sweden on tour. I was wondering if you’d let me fly you out here so we could... work some things out.”

Charlotte flashes me two thumbs up, letting my balls fall from her mouth. I cock my head at her and she twirls her fingers around in a “keep going” gesture.

“What is it you need to work out?” I ask cautiously.

“I...” she sniffs. “I don’t know. I really don’t. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Hey,” I say. “Look, I can help, okay? When were you hoping?”
“I don’t know,” she says. “As soon as you can, I guess. I could have you on a 10:40 flight out of LAX tonight.”

I raise my eyebrows and Charlotte shrugs and nods. She has taken mercy on my faculties and stopped fellating me.

“I only fly out of Burbank,” I say. “Traffic. But I could do tonight.”

“I... I would really appreciate that,” says Ava. “I don’t know what to do. My head is just... I don’t know.”

“You can tell me about it tomorrow,” I say. “Just one thing, Ava.”

“Yes?”

“Are you specifically inviting only me? Not Charlotte?”

“Y-yes.” She clears her throat. “Yes.”

“And you understand that I’m committed to her, right? I love her deeply.”

“I know,” she says, frustration. “Don’t you think I know that?”

“Okay.” I shrug. “Text me the flight info. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much.”

We hang up.

“What the fuck was that?” I ask.

“It might just be what I’ve been hoping for,” says Charlotte.

“I thought you said she’d caught feelings!” I say.

“Yes, but that’s not what that was about. That was about needing a safe person to talk to. I marked my territory last month. She won’t try to steal you away, I don’t think.”

“So why not call you?”

“We’ve got history, and I did set her off most recently. Sometimes when that happens she won’t talk to me for months if I tick her off. But you are not only a safe person, you’re a person she’s felt new things with, probably felt best with in the past year.”

“I’m not a therapist,” I say.

“No, but you’ve got the tools you need to help heal her brain,” she says, laying a hand on my cock again.

“I think you overestimate my cock,” I mumble.

“Oh really?” she asks, pouting her lips and kissing underneath the head. “There were four of the most gorgeous women on earth in New York City last week that might agree with me.”

“Well,” I say. “I guess I have to pack for a trip to Sweden, then.”
Charlotte checks the time. “I think you’ve got ten minutes. Can you give me some of your creamy leche in ten minutes?” She wraps her lips around my cock and sucks hard.

I lean back with a laugh and a groan.

She does it in seven. Charlotte always gets her milk.

***

We catch sunrise over the Atlantic, but I’ve lost track of what time it is for me. Too many timezones across the past few hours. I should have realized that Ava wasn’t referring to a commercial plane when she said she could have me out of LAX by 10:40pm. She’s flying me in a private charter, which means a direct flight, which means we’re going faster than normal. What should be 16 hours in the air with multiple connections, layovers and plane swaps that would push the travel time well past 30 hours is going to be only 15 hours from wheels up to wheels down. I make good money, and Charlotte makes even better royalties than I do from time to time, but neither of us have private jet money. I almost wish I wasn’t having this experience because it’s going to make all the commercial flight hours in my future that much dimmer by comparison.

A personal stewardess attends to my every need, including food, drinks, hot towels, and massages. I mostly read, catching up on some news and a novel, but I also watch a movie on a large flatscreen TV and nap for awhile in a full length bed at the back of the plane. It’s less like being on a plane and more like being on a private yacht where you can’t go on deck.

Speedy or not, by the time we land and with the nine hour time difference, I actually don’t see Ava until nearly midnight--technically still “tomorrow” as promised, but only just. It feels strange to board a plane in the dark and get off in the dark without a full day having passed according to my internal clock. A sleek black sedan is waiting to pick me up and takes me through town to a hotel near the concert venue. I am taken in through a side door to avoid fans who are milling about in the street, hoping for a glimpse. I realize for the first time that I’m stepping not only into another world on a different continent but also into her world.

Up an elevator, down hallways, around corners--her security knows their stuff, and they know how to avoid paparazzi. I don’t see a single phone or camera on any of the staff we pass. At last I am shuffled through one more door, and there she is, sitting on a couch eating a chocolate in sweats and a t-shirt with her hair pulled back and no make-up on.

The door shuts behind me and it’s just me and Ava in a hotel room together, although calling it a hotel room doesn’t do this palace justice. The ultra-modern penthouse I was in last week in Manhattan was small and dully appointed by comparison with this old world representation of gaudy wealth. Baroque antique furniture fills the spacious rooms with dark-wood elegance, and handcrafted inlays give a three dimensional effect to every wall and ceiling. It’s all a bit overwhelming. Ava catches me looking around and waves a hand vaguely at the ceiling.

“I know, I know,” she says. “It’s always ‘the nicest room they have’ and that means different things in different cities.”

“Hey,” I say. “Tough to beat this.”

She shrugs. “If this is what you like.” She stands and crosses the room to me, holding out her arms like an old friend. “Thank you so much for coming, and so quickly.”

I accept her hug and take her into my arms for what becomes a surprisingly tender hug. I wonder, not for the first time, how many people she enjoys the intimacy with that we now enjoy. How many people can she trust to not have an angle on her, her wealth or her fame?

“You’re welcome,” I murmur, and, on the spur of the moment, give her a kiss on the top of the head.

Ava breaks the hug first and turns back to the couch. “Welcome to my hidey-hole.”

I notice for the first time that the room is a bit the worse for wear in terms of clutter and food garbage.

“How long have you been here?” I ask.

“First show was three days ago. Last one is tomorrow night.”

“Then off to where?”

She rubs her eyes with the heels of her hands.

“I...” she thinks. “Italy? Maybe? It’s not till next week, so that’s something. Technically I could tell everyone to fuck off and give me three days and go where I want.”

“How do you resist the temptation to do that?” I ask, picking up a couple articles of clothing off of an armchair and tossing them to another chair.

She laughs. “This is the life. Glamorous, right? Hustled from airport to airport, hotel to hotel, avoiding the streets and the actual places I visit when I can just to dodge all the people...” she stops herself. “Look, I didn’t invite you here to complain. I promise.”

I smile. “Why did you invite me here?”

Ava gets serious. “I... well, here’s the truth. It sounds crazy, but... I haven’t been sleeping well.”

I wait for her to continue.

“I haven’t been sleeping much at all. This week it’s gotten worse, but it’s been bad since the last time... since your house last month.”

“That’s no good,” I say, taking a bag of local chips off the table.

“No,” she says. “I was hoping... I was kind of hoping we could just cuddle.”

I glance up and see that she is both done talking and furiously blushing.
“Cuddle?” I ask.

“It sounds stupid,” she says.

I blink. You flew me halfway around the world to cuddle? I don’t ask.

Please don’t say it, she doesn’t say.

“Like, watch a movie?” I ask.

She shrugs, still flushed. “Watch a movie, and then I was hoping you would, well... sleep with me.”

“But like, sleep with you,” I say. It’s not really a question, but I am asking.

She nods. “I’m not saying no sex, or that it’s off the table, but I was honestly hoping just for some physical closeness.”

“Okay,” I say.

“Yeah?” she asks.
“I mean,” I look around, “I’m already here, so....”

She giggles. “There’s one more thing.”

“Please,” I say.

“Could I just... hold your dick, sometimes?”

“Hold my dick,” I repeat.

She shrugs bashfully. “It makes me feel safe.”

“Huh,” I say. “Sure. Yeah, okay.”

Ava smiles gratefully, and I see what it’s cost her to get me here and ask for what she wants directly. No manipulation, no games, just simple requests.

“Say, is there any food around here that isn’t fish-flavored Swedish chips?” I ask.

She laughs. “Those are awful. What do you want?”

“What’s open?”

“Well, nothing, but it’s room service. They’ll make whatever you want.”

“No menu?”

“Oh, there’s a menu,” she says. “But... they’ll make whatever I order.” She smiles a bit self-consciously.

I grin. “This is going to be fun.”

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The doors of the elevator open with a special key and we are treated to a nighttime view of the Manhattan skyline through floor to ceiling windows. I walk across to them and look down at the city streets with their lines of headlights and taillights, and the great dark that is Central Park at night. I stand for a moment, my mind wandering, wondering where Charlotte is. I send her a quick text.

“Facefuck: check. Beast fuck: pending.”

She replies immediately, liking my message with a thumbs up and responding with a peach emoji and an eggplant emoji, then a raunchy porn gif of a blonde woman getting fucked doggy style. I laugh and put my phone back in my pocket.

“Are you going to stand there looking at the view, or are you going to fuck me?”

I turn around and Sydney is standing in the middle of the room, completely naked. Despite her short stature, she is remarkably well proportioned, slender yet curvy, with sensual lips, sexy eyes and of course the boobs she’s famous for. Very desirable, but in that moment, I miss Charlotte and try not to let it show.

Sydney crosses the room to me and I watch her boobs wobble and shake as she closes the distance between us. “Pants off,” she says airily, and I undo my belt and drop them. “I want you nice and hard again,” she says, kneeling in front of me.

“No blowjobs,” I say with a smirk as she takes my semi-hard dick into her mouth again.

She gives me the finger and starts sucking and stroking me to get me fully hard. I’m there to her satisfaction in a minute or so, and she stands up and turns around, bending at the waist and bracing herself on the arm of the couch. I step forward and she guides my cock into position, and when I enter her, it feels divinely hot and tight. She reaches back to take my hands and I hold them like reins as I start to fuck her from behind. My hips make a crude slapping noise against her ass with each stroke, and that’s the soundtrack in the room for the next few minutes as she begins to moan and touch her clit.

“This isn’t enough,” she says, breaking the spell. “See if the robes in the bathroom have belts you can tie my hands with. I want you to fuck me up.”

She slides off of my pole and I give it a few strokes as I walk to the large bathroom. It, too, has floor to ceiling windows— no neighbors to see in up here, I suppose— and there are four robes hanging on the wall. I slip their belts out and walk to the bedroom, but Sydney isn’t there.

“Syd?” I call, and she responds from the living room.

“I thought you wanted me to tie you to the bed?” I ask.

“I want you to tie me up just like I was,” she says, “only with my wrists stuck to my ankles.”

“I can do that,” I say gamely. She bends at the waist and I crouch down to tie loose knots.

“Elbows to knees, too,” she says.

I add the last two ties as she requests.

“Tighter,” she says. “It’s no fun if I can get loose. Don’t let me out unless I say the safe word.”

I tie the knots tighter, and then tie the ends off to the legs of the couch and the end table and stand again, this time guiding myself into her pussy.

“Which is?” I ask.

“It doesn’t matter,” she says. “I don’t want a safe word.”

I press my cock into her pussy and start to hammer her again, working up a good rhythm, and she starts to moan louder more quickly.

“This turns me on so much,” she says. “Getting used like a fuck toy.”

“You’re kind of a slut, aren’t you, Sydney?”

She moans in reply. I begin to fuck her harder and her moans get louder.

“Your balls... my pussy... fuck,” she says, breathing in little ragged gasps.

I can tell Sydney is getting close to cumming, and that’s when I stop and step away from her.

“What? No!” she says, looking at me upside down from between her legs. “Don’t tell me you fucking came!”

I shake my head slowly, watching her.

“Oh, no,” she says. “No, no, don’t. Please! I was so close.”

I grin.

She whimpers and I step back close to her, bringing my hand around and spanking her ass. She squeals, and I do it again. “Fuck,” she says. “Fuck me!”

I oblige, sticking my dick inside her and immediately pounding her hard and fast. I’m not particularly turned on by this sort of thing, but my dick isn’t exactly getting soft, either. I give it to her until it’s me that’s about to cum and then I step back again.

Sydney makes a frustrated noise somewhere between a scream and a moan. “God damn it!” she says.

I walk around her in a circle, breathing hard, feeling the sweat standing on my skin and seeing her in a similar state.

“Please,” she says. “Okay? Please. I’m asking. Please.”

“Please,” I say, “what?”
“Please fuck me until I cum,” she moans.

“Fuck you until you cum,” I muse. “All right.”

She lets out a little simpering moan, but then stops. “Wait--”

I take up my position behind her and slowly, slowly insert my cock into her pussy.

“Oh fucking goddam it,” she whines.

I suppress a laugh and very slowly pull back out. I keep up this slow pace, only accelerating gradually over the next few minutes. Eventually I’m pounding into her, and she starts to beg.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop, keep going, I’m so close, so fucking close, oh fuck, I’m begging you, oh Jack, Jack!” She shrieks my name as she cums, struggling to remain standing, and I let it all go myself, fucking her with abandon. She cums again, and I pull out and bust my nut on her ass and down her back, giving her a decent smear of semen to drip down her legs and up towards her hair.

She moans loudly as I walk to the kitchen and get a glass of water. I watch her tied to the couch, head down and ass in the air, still moaning and shivering. She still hasn’t asked to be untied so I resolve to wait. Hell, I resolve to use her how I see fit until she cries uncle.

I walk back over to the couch and kneel down beside her to untie her from the couch itself. I stand and pick up her small body, carrying her two steps to the couch and sitting her down upright so that her legs and arms can rest somewhat flopped to either side, still tied off but in a more relaxed posture.

“Thank you,” she says, her face sweaty with hair plastered to her forehead.

“You’re welcome,” I say. I finally get a good, uninterrupted view of her tits, and they are honestly pretty great. They are plump and natural even if they don’t defy gravity, and I’m unable to resist reaching out to fondle them. I play with them as she catches her breath, not protesting, just sitting with her eyes closed and breathing deeply. Her legs are spread wide, her pussy right in front of me. My cock is twitching, getting hard again, and I kneel up to lay it on the couch.

“Oh fuck,” she mews. “How?”

I grin and scoot her to the edge of the couch so that I can slide into her pussy again. I immediately start fucking her hard, and it’s like I’ve hit a hard reset button in her brain. She is moaning in short, high-pitched squeaks, not speaking, her eyes locked on mine. I fuck her and she cums, I don’t know how many times because I lose track. On my knees by the low couch I can go a long time, and I tweak her nipples and play with her clit, playing her body like a musical instrument as she orgasms. I’ve never seen anything like it.

“Sydney,” I say. “I’m going to fuck your face again.”

She smiles and blinks, rousing a bit, then opens her mouth, sticking out her tongue and waggling it back and forth.

I pull my dick out and stand, climbing on the couch, and mount her face again. I sink my cock in as far as it will go and fuck her face for all I’m worth, allowing her to breathe often. Her arms and legs are flopped to either side, tied still though they may as well not be. When I feel my orgasm approaching I pull out as far as her mouth, letting her frantically lick at the head, and then I pull out all the way and jack myself off onto her face. I aim straight between her eyes and thick cum gets everywhere, on her eyelids, covering her nose and running into her mouth. Some splatters onto her forehead, and drips back down, and all she does is stick her tongue out to try to slurp in as much as she can. She’s a sticky, sexy mess when I step back and look at my handiwork. I slip the knots at her knees and ankles and her arms and legs fall down. She is breathing hard, cum dripping from her face onto her tits, which jiggle and float with every breath she takes.

I walk away without a word and hit the shower before coming back out to dress myself. She hasn’t moved from her spot on the couch, and I toss her a towel. I actually think she might have fallen asleep.

“Enjoy the penthouse, Syd,” I say as I press the elevator call button, and she stirs slightly.

“Bye,” she says, wiping her face and peering at me with one eye. “Thanks for the fuck.”

I chuckle, stepping into the elevator and pulling out my phone to let Charlotte know how my night is going.

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I pull out my phone and call Charlotte. She answers on the third ring.

“How was the restaurant opening?” she asks.

“Oh, it was good. I feel bad though, I didn’t stay long.”

“No? It’s still early there, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” I say, turning to walk idly across the lobby.

“Does this mean I don’t get a birthday present?” she says with mock petulance.

I chuckle. “Oh, you got a birthday present all right. You’re never going to believe it.”

“Try me.”

“So, a Colombian, a Mexican and a Cuban walk into a restaurant opening...” I begin.

“THREE?” she squeals.

I laugh, reaching the far wall and turning. There’s a small bar on the other side of the lobby, and I notice someone sitting at it and looking at me. Someone blonde, short, and showing more cleavage than seems humanly possible.

“Oh,” I say. “And here’s another. Sydney Swinton is giving me eyes again.”

“Oh, Jack,” says Charlotte. “Hang up this phone and go fuck her in her face. I’m going to touch myself like mad while I picture it!”

“Aren’t you working?”

“I have a trailer for these occasions. God, I wish I could watch you do it. She always looks so prissy. Give her a taste of a real man! Make her swallow it all!”

“Damn, baby,” I say. “If you insist.”

“Call me back when you’re done!”

We hang up and I walk casually into the bar.

“Who the fuck are you?” Sydney asks conversationally as soon as I’m close enough.

I raise my eyebrows. “Do you always begin conversations this way?”

“First you’re sitting at a table alone upstairs. Then you’re joined by three gorgeous women who clearly want to fuck your brains out, who you leave with in a matter of minutes.”

I sit down next to her at the bar, leaning on the thick wooden edge. Her light blue eyes are prominent and incredulous as she recites the events of the night from her perspective to me.

“As I’m stepping out between dinner and dessert, I catch two of them sneaking into the bathroom looking like they’ve just gone face-first into a full tray of glazed donuts.”

I snort laughter.

“Now I see you leaving with the third actress, one of the most gorgeous women I’ve ever seen, parting at the door looking like you just kindled a lifelong romance. And I’m pretty sure her dress was on backwards.”

“I don’t think her dress was on backwards,” I say mildly, contesting none of the other details.

“So... who the fuck are you?” she asks.

“No one of consequence,” I say.

“What are you packing in your pants? A magic wand?”

“Would you like to find out?”

She rolls her eyes and takes a sip of her drink.

I order a drink from the bartender and a woman approaches me from my left.

“Excuse me,” she says. “I’m so sorry to interrupt. I really love your books. Could I get your autograph?”

Sydney stares at her, and I smile. “Of course.”

I sign a cocktail napkin and the woman bows her head, thanking me effusively, then walks back to her table.

I turn back to Sydney. “Sorry about that. You know how it is.”

“I don’t give autographs in public,” she says as the bartender sets down my drink.

“I’m sure people are more interested in, ah,” I glance down at her cleavage, “selfies, right?”

She cracks a smile in spite of herself and hits my arm. “I’m more than just a pair of fucking tits, you know.”

“That’s true. You’ve also got quite a mouth on you.”

“Wow, okay,” she says, still grinning. “Negging, huh? I didn’t realize it was five years ago still.”

“No?,” I say, sipping my cranberry juice. “I think your shoes say otherwise.”

She snorts. “Okay. Shoes are off-limits. I love these.”

“I didn’t say they weren’t nice! But with that dress?”

“How do you know so much about fashion?” she asks.

“My girlfriend is deep into that world. Osmosis,” I say pointing to my temple. “Whether I like it or not, I gather details of the world around me.”

“Girlfriend,” she says. “Aren’t you dating... Charlotte?”

I nod.

“And yet all that woman isn’t enough for you?”

“She is. But she gets off on, well...”
“What you did tonight.”

I nod again. “It’s kind of her thing when we’re apart.”

“Does she only let you go after brunettes?”

“Oh no,” I say. “She’s very expansive. I actually prefer blondes.”

“Oh really?” she asks.

“Blondes with blue eyes and big tits are kind of my thing,” I say, looking off into the distance.

“Too bad you’ve already been so busy tonight,” she says.

“That was just a warm-up,” I say.

“Bullshit,” she says.

“Come over to the mop closet and I’ll prove it,” I say easily.

She barks a laugh. “I don’t do mop closets. I do penthouse suites.”

“Penthouses are for girlfriends,” I say. “Mop closets are for casual encounters in a bar.”

“Did you take those three Latinas into a mop closet?”

“Office waiting room couch,” I say, taking a drink. “I always make exceptions for triple blowjobs.”

“I don’t do blowjobs, either,” she says, downing half her drink.

“You keep telling me what you don’t do,” I say. “Why not be open to new experiences?”

“Like getting bent over in a mop closet by a writer who probably can’t perform?” she asks with a cocked eyebrow.

“Hmm,” I say. “More like getting facefucked in a mop closet by a well-hung stud to see if you’re worthy of the penthouse.”

Her eyebrows shoot up and her jaw drops. “’Worthy’?”

“Think of it as a try-out,” I say. “A casting call. You’ve done those before, right?”

Sydney gives me a long look and then downs the rest of her drink. “You know what?” she says, rising. “Pay for my drink and let’s find a closet. I want to see your limp dick fail to get hard.”

She actually looks somewhat pissed off, so I pay for her drink and mine without comment and follow her out into the lobby. She strides over to the far side of the building, past the central elevators, high heels clicking, and leads me around a corner where there is, lo and behold, a mop closet. Despite the emotional temperature between us, my cock is hard in my pants at the sight of her curvy body walking away from me and the knowledge that it gets to come out and play. She opens the closet door, hits the light switch on the wall, and turns, gesturing for me to follow her. I step in and the door clicks shut behind us. She reaches past me and locks it. The space in here actually isn’t too cramped, though it does smell of citrus-scented cleaners and there are a fair number of mops and brooms hanging on the walls to either side.

“Okay,” she says, folding her arms. “Still want to facefuck me, big man?”

I shrug. “If you’re into it, I definitely am. You’re hot as hell.”

“No more negging?” she says, jutting her jaw out defiantly, looking up at me. Stacked or not, she’s only maybe 5’2” or 5’3” and in the small space of the closet, she has to look practically straight up at me.

“No more negging,” I say. “Though generally it’s customary to kneel.”

She looks ready to snap back, but makes a grumpy noise and moves around me to the door side and drops to her knees. “Let’s see if you can perform, then I’ll tell you if I’m into it.”

“As you wish,” I say.

“And stop quoting Princess Bride. It’s making me like you.”

I grin and unzip my fly, pulling my nearly-erect cock out of my pants. It springs out and nearly hits her in the face.

“Shit,” she murmurs.

I give it a couple of strokes and it stands at attention, pointing at her somewhat accusatorially given her attitude. There’s a pause as she looks at it.

“So...” I say.

“Shit,” she repeats. “I really don’t give blowjobs,” she adds quietly, seemingly to herself.

“Well, that’s the great debate, isn’t it?” I ask. “Is a facefuck really a blowjob?”

She looks up at me, deadpan. “And what’s my reward for this? A night with you in the penthouse?”

I shrug. “If that’s what you want,” I say. “I’ll rent the penthouse for you, even if you don’t invite me.”

She sighs. “This is what I get for escalating things. All right.” She leans her head back against the door and opens her mouth.

“Hey,” I say, “if you’re not into it, we can walk away. It’s cool. I was egging you on.”

She closes her mouth and looks up at me. “I think that’s the first time a man with a dick in my face has ever offered to back down.” She thinks. “Honestly, now that I’m here... all bullshit aside, I want to know what those girls upstairs got. And,” she adds, raising a finger. “I like it rough. I’ll tell you when to back off. Otherwise....”

Sydney reaches out and lightly wraps her fingers around my cock, opens her mouth again, and gives it a long lick. Then she spits on the top of the head, puts her hands behind my thighs and nods.

“You really are fucking gorgeous, you know that?” I say.

“Quit trying to charm me and stick your dick in my mouth,” she says wryly.

I grin, and do just that.

She opens wide and I step forward, sliding my cock between her lips. She opens wider to accommodate me, settling back against the door, and I press forward. My cock hits the back of her throat and, contrary to her assertions that she is not a giver of head, she swallows my cock quite easily. My balls are against her chin and her nose is against my skin on the first try, no gagging, no hesitation. She doesn’t even break eye contact.

“Oh shit,” I say. “You were lying.”

Her eyes smile and I pull out halfway, relishing the feeling of her throat working around my cockhead. Then I shove it back in and groan as I sink all the way to the base in her mouth. Her tongue slides out to lick my balls and I groan again at the feeling, putting both of my palms on the door and leaning in. This time I pull all the way out so she can breathe.

“I said I don’t give blowjobs,” she says. “I didn’t say I can’t.” With that she grabs my ass and pulls my hips forward again, getting me a little off balance and plunging my cock all the way down her throat again. She hums and the vibrations do something to me.

“Hot damn,” I say. “Sydney Swinton, you are going to get a lot of cum out of me tonight.”

She pulls me tighter to her face in response and winks at me.

“Don’t tell me you don’t swallow, either,” I tease.

Sydney pushes me off gently and I pull my cock out. “No,” she says. “When I do suck cock, I always swallow. I’m a good girl.”

I growl and push my cock forward again, sliding my cockhead across her tongue slowly, then thrusting back and forth inside her mouth a few times very quickly before putting a hand on top of her head and shoving it down her throat once more. I repeat this twice before she puts a hand on my cock and pulls it out.

“Harder,” she says. “I wasn’t kidding.”

So I put my cock into her mouth again, and then using my hips and legs with a wider range of motion, start to fuck her face. She keeps her head pressed against the door to provide resistance, and my cock starts to really get moving. It’s slippery as hell in her throat and mouth, and she starts making a sort of “guck, guck, guck,” sound that I’ve only heard in porn as my cock cuts off her air with each deep thrust. I surprise myself by feeling my arousal surge, and a lustful animal close to the beast in nature rises to the surface. My balls are slapping lightly against her chin, and her eyes are fluttering shut with each impact.

“Fuck,” I say, grunting and looking at the ceiling as I fuck her face.

She continues making that obscene noise, slurping and sucking as well, and I give her a break and take a half step back.

Sydney gasps for air, sounding more aroused than out of breath, and reaches out to grab my cock. “No,” she says. “No breaks. Cum down my throat. I fucking want it now.”

“You want it?” I ask. “You want what they got upstairs?”

She nods, her mascara running slightly from her watering eyes. “I want it.”

“Fucking take it,” I say, and step forward.

I shove my cock in her mouth and mercilessly begin to fuck her throat. I let it all out and my orgasm approaches quickly. I look down at her face and give her two more deep thrusts before bottoming out and unleashing my jizz down her throat. Her eyes close and then open wide as she looks up at me, noisily swallowing and whimpering as I drain my balls inside her. I’m leaning forward hard, pressing her head into the door, and she’s clutching my ass.

“Fuuuckk,” I say as my cock continues to spasm in her mouth.

Sydney’s eyes are watering and I try to pull out to let her breathe, but she grips my ass tighter. I forgot, she said she’d tell me when to back off, so I relax and let my balls do their thing. Her face starts to turn red but she doesn’t falter. I shudder and thrust once more, and then I’m done. As I feel the last of my cum leave me, I pull back and my cock slurps out of her mouth.

She gasps, red-faced and wipes her chin of some drool. “Fuck,” she says. “That was a lot of fucking cum. Didn’t you just go two rounds? What the fuck!”

I grin, breathing heavily myself, leaning against the sink behind me, and nod. “Yeah. I dunno. It’s just the way it is.”

“Fuck,” she says again, reaching out to stroke my cock some more. “I was going to say the penthouse would be a waste, but if you can do that three times then probably you can do it a fourth.”

I shrug one shoulder and nod. “Yeah. I can.”

Sydney shakes her head, wiping her mouth again. One of her tits has popped out of her dress and I point to it. She looks down and back up at me. “Are you telling me to cover up?”

“I just figured you might want to know,” I say.

“You just pumped a half gallon of cum down my throat,” she says. “I think I’m good with you seeing my tits. I’ve taken them out enough on camera.”

I laugh. “Fair enough.”

She gets to her feet, pulling her dress back into place. “You wanna throw a fuck into me upstairs?”

“Do they rent out the penthouse here?” I ask.

She nods.

“Then let’s fucking go.”

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Eliana has centered herself between my legs and is still looking up at me. Her mouth has yet to leave my cock, but she’s no longer gently suckling at the head. She’s wrapped one hand around the shaft and the other is cupping my balls.

“You are so goddam beautiful,” I say.

She smiles with her eyes since her lips are busy. She can’t take me very deep, but she gives it a few good bobs and then strokes it quickly while licking the head.

“Fuck me,” I say incredulously at the sight before me.

“Yes,” she says, taking me literally and letting my cock pop from between her lips. She stands and slides her dress down over her hips, standing before me fully naked. I shamelessly look her up and down, mesmerized by her slender body. She’s perhaps 5’8” with supple breasts, wide hips and a distinct beauty born from her elegant, high cheekbones and voluptuous smile. I kick off my pants and shoes.

Eliana climbs onto my lap, centering her pussy over my erect dick and lowering herself onto it. “Mètemela,” she says. She lets out a sigh of contentment as I enter her, and I do as well.

“Ah, si, Eliana,” I say. “That feels so right.”

“Mmm,” she breathes, eyes closed, planting her hands on my chest and rolling her hips. Her knees are on either side of me as she starts to rise and fall, and I put my hands on her waist and tilt my head back to watch her. Her brows are furrowed together with concentration and she looks like she’s finding what she was hoping to find. She looks so fucking gorgeous as she chases her pleasure, using my cock as a tool to get her there.

I resist her perky, round tits for about two minutes before I lean forward and snare one of her nipples in my mouth, licking and sucking on it as she fucks me. Her hands go to my hair and she whimpers, ratcheting up my arousal to the next level.

I put my arms around Eliana’s back and flip her around, laying her down on the couch without sliding out of her, careful to keep my cock in place. I yank my shirt off and now we are both naked, skin to skin.

“Si, papi, chingame,” she says, looking up at me with her silky, chocolate brown hair haloed around her face. “Yo tengo tu leche.”

I couldn’t resist giving her my cum even if I wanted to. “Eres una cochina,” I say, and she breaks into a smile.

I push my hips forward, sliding my cock into her pussy, then pull back. The fabric of the couch is rough beneath my palms and her deep, amber colored eyes look up at me unguardedly in the dim light. Her pussy caresses my dick from all sides and the friction is delicious. She is tight and yet soft, firm but tender, and I thrust into her again and again, each time feeling like something new and fresh. I look into her eyes to see if she’s feeling it too, and see a truth there that opens new floodgates in my body as she bites her lip. This is a startling compatibility I haven’t felt since the first day I spent with Charlotte.

“Mas rapido,” she whispers, and she hardly needs to. The time for doing anything despacito is gone, but the feeling isn’t a lusty urgency. It’s simply time to speed up to take us both where we’re trying to go, like the next leg of a charted journey by air or sea. I know what’s right to give her what she needs, and I give it to her.

With each inward thrust I swing my hips slightly from side to side, pivoting my cock inside her and trying to find her g-spot. I watch her attentively to see the changes on her face, hearing her breathing and the sounds she makes. I lay down on top of her, sliding my arms under her shoulders and holding her head in one hand as I kiss her neck, unconsciously assuming the posture of lovemaking that I share with Charlotte. Eliana responds immediately, and I feel her muscles tighten in preparation as I speed up towards my own climax.

“Cum with me,” she whispers in my ear, “cum with me!”

I feel her thighs tighten below mine, her back arch slightly, and when her head tilts back and her chin lifts, my orgasm is suddenly upon me. It feels like a wave of cool fire rushing up through my stomach to my chest and down my legs, and then I shoot my seed inside her. She cries out in Spanish, words I cannot comprehend as she rises to press against my body in ecstasy. My thrusts lose their rhythm as I am overcome with pleasure and Eliana shakes beneath me, wrapping her arms around me and holding me close. My cock pulses within her and I feel like I am dispensing just as much cum as I did for the triple blowjob half an hour ago. She strokes the back of my head as we lay, breathing hard and coming down from the pleasurable high we have shared, but slowly. Some time passes in this simple way, cheek to cheek, my body on hers, and I know that if I try to rise she’ll pull me back down. This is a sweet, right thing, and to shatter it would be a sin.

I feel her kiss my ear gently some time later and know that it is a signal. I rise slightly and look into her face. She smiles prettily, and I smile back. I find there is no need for words, and I lift myself up, looking at her incredible body as I stand. I blink and shake my head, unable to comprehend how this boring night turned into such an experience. I am excited to tell Charlotte about it because I know she will be thrilled that I fulfilled her hopes.

Eliana stretches and relaxes into a gentle repose, an arm across her forehead as she watches me pull on my pants. I smile at her as I sit down by her legs to put on my shoes, and she sits up next to me, perky tits standing out at attention. I want to know if this can happen again, if she is dating anyone, if she wants to spend the night in my room. I draw in breath to speak and for the second time tonight she places a finger on my lips.

“Don’t bring that world in here. In here was just us, just a perfect moment. These moments don’t happen often. Let it be perfect.” There is tenderness in her eyes, and something bordering on poignance as well. All perfect moments must end, perhaps she thinks, but need not be destroyed.

I nod, and lean in to kiss her. She kisses me back. It is a lovely thing.

Then I rise, and pull on my shirt. She gathers her dress and slips it on as well, and we leave the room together holding hands. We ride the elevator down to the lobby where there’s a small bar, and she goes up on tiptoe to kiss me again, then departs. We share no words, because perhaps there are none to share, none that have been made to express the line between lust and love that strangers may walk and share perfect moments upon. I watch her depart into the dusk of the city through the glass doors and wonder if I will see her again.

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I am seated at a table for four by myself at Charlotte’s friend’s restaurant opening. It’s been a hectic couple of days in NYC, as they always are, but she was right: I need to eat dinner every night. The owner and chef makes nice when I walk in, but she doesn’t know me, and I don’t blame her when she moves on quickly.

I sit, trying not to fly through my full glass of ice water, but with nothing else to do I wind up draining it twice before the show gets on the road. Across the room, I notice Sydney Swinton with a table full of men. Her hair is done up and back away from her face, only drawing further attention to her astoundingly low neckline. I can’t believe her nipples aren’t showing with a dress that low, and I check a few times as I wait for the meal to start to see if they’re going to come out. I catch her glance at me more than once and start to wonder if I should ask her to join me. Her tits are legend, of course, and Charlotte did instruct me to make a “viking conquest” on the phone shortly before I came here.

The chef comes out and gives a speech that welcomes us and expresses gratitude for our attendance. She announces that the appetizers will soon be circulated by the waitstaff. This is a fancy establishment, some few dozen floors up in a high rise, and I wonder how much it costs just to have the ingredients delivered and transported up the freight elevators, let alone assembled and served.

I take the opportunity to slip out to the restroom to relieve my bladder, and when I return, the table is occupied not only by food but by three bubbly, gorgeous Latina women. I slow my walk and take them in as I approach. I recognize all three and when I approach the table, they look at me and giggle.

“Hello, ladies,” I say as pull out my chair and sit down. “I was beginning to think that I was going to have to eat alone tonight. I’m Jack.”

The first woman to my right smiles brilliantly and introduces herself. “I’m Soledad.” Her eyes are green but have brown in the center of her irises, a trait that makes her gaze quite enchanting— as Hollywood and millions of viewers are well aware. She wears an elegant dress that sparkles and shimmers as she moves.

The woman across from me smiles as well with full, Colombian lips, her jet black hair framing her face. “Diana.” Her dress is sequined, and her hair and makeup are impeccable, highlighting her cheekbones and deep brown eyes that look almost black in the low light.

The woman to my left nods in turn, inclining her head. “Eliana.” Her smile is stunning, and her lips are also quite full. She arches an immaculately manicured eyebrow when I gaze at her just a little too long without speaking, but I manage to avoid the magnetism that her plunging neckline and supple cleavage exert on my eyes.

“Welcome,” I say. “Do you three know the owner?”

They look amongst themselves, shaking their heads. “No,” says Soledad. “We were just invited after a work thing. Do you know the owner?”

“Not personally,” I say, and we all laugh.

“I guess we’re all just here to enjoy the food,” says Diana.

“And, now, the company!” I add.

“I’ll drink to that,” says Eliana, raising her water glass.

“Do you think we get wine?” asks Diana.

“Didn’t we drink enough already?” asks Soledad, and they all giggle again.

The servers bring out another round of appetizers, this time with hot food included. Each portion is just enough to whet the appetite but not enough to satisfy, since this is a multi-course affair. I catch Sydney looking at me again, and think I see an unhappy pout to her lips now that I’m no longer alone.

“So what do you do for work, Jack?” asks Eliana.

“I’m a writer,” I say.

“Have you written anything I’ve heard of?” asks Diana flirtatiously.

“Maybe,” I say. “How about you, Diana?”

“Oh, I sing, I dance. I’ve been a lot of things.”

“We’re actresses,” says Soledad.

“Ah,” I say. “Have you been in anything I’ve seen?”

They giggle and exchange glances.

“Soledad likes to show off her tits, so you’ve probably seen them a few times!” says Diana.

Eliana covers her mouth, laughing, and blushes. Soledad whips her napkin at Diana but shrugs. “It’s true though,” Soledad says.

The sexual tension at the table rises. I see in their eyes that they know who I am, and since I know who they are, it becomes a sort of game.

I feel a foot brush my ankle, then come back and linger there. I glance around the table but no one acknowledges. The atmosphere in the restaurant is low and dim, and this table is fairly small. It really could be any of them, and looking around, I would love to make good on Charlotte’s challenge with any one of the three. In the low light, they all look absolutely stunning and my heart skips a beat at the energy among us.

The servers change out the plates for a course of soup and salad. Three medium-sized bowls with cobb, caesar and house salad are placed in the middle and we are given chilled bowls with which to sample them. I glance across the room and see Sydney looking at me. She catches my eye and shifts a bit, spreading her legs in my direction under her table. The toes pressing against my ankle begin inscribing slow circles there beneath my own table, and I think to myself, ‘Do I have a “fuck me” sign on my back? What the fuck is going on?’ Sydney grins and closes her legs, going back to her conversation.

I clear my throat. “I can’t help but notice how fantastic you all look tonight. Are you coming from an event?”

Soledad smiles graciously. “There was an awards show that taped earlier,” she says in her delightfully subtle Cuban accent.

“Well, ten out of ten for your stylists,” I say. “Top notch.”

“Oh, just the stylists?” asks Diana, pouting. “Don’t we get any credit?”

I grin. “Well, movie magic, you know.”

Eliana giggles and Diana waves me away. “Eat your salad, boy.”

My left ankle now feels pressure from another foot that works its way up to my calf, hooking my pant leg as it goes. This time I don’t look around. It’s unmistakably from a different owner based on the direction and my heart rate jumps up another notch. We eat and chat until the salad is cleared and soups come out.

“I’m going to starve to death before this is done,” I say, looking at the tiny soup cups arranged on my plate.

“It’s a sampler,” says Eliana, reaching over and taking my spoon. “See? You just try a little of each to... sample the different flavors.” She dips the spoon into a red soup and, cupping a hand below it, offers it to me. I lean forward and take the mouthful of warm liquid. She licks the spoon and lays it on my plate.

Holy shit, I think.

“Holy shit,” says Diana. “That was fucking sexy.”

Eliana blushes and looks down. I feel a flush on my face as well, and my cock is getting quite stiff in my pants.

Soledad giggles, and I feel more movement under the table. I jump as a foot slides in between my thighs, sliding up my left leg. I look across the table at Diana, who cocks an eyebrow at me, inviting comment. I put on my poker face.

“Yes, it was,” I say. “Food is such a sensual experience. Don’t you think?”

Soledad giggles again, and I feel her foot slide up my right calf.

I take a drink of water and the ice in my glass jingles due to my trembling hand. I set it down half on my plate and nearly spill it as Diana’s toes touch my cock.

“We aren’t going to make it until the main courses, are we, ladies?” I ask.

Eliana blushes more, still looking down at her plate and Diana just grins at me. Soledad shakes her head. “I don’t think so.”

“Well,” I say, setting aside my napkin and looking at the soup with some regret. “Where shall we go?”

The interloping feet under the table withdraw, though Diana’s pushes a bit further until she’s feeling the whole length of my cock with her foot, and then she is gone as well.

“Come on,” says Soledad, the de facto speaker for the group, it seems. “Follow us.”

They stand and I rise with them, my cock pressing painfully against the restricting fabric of my pants. I see Diana and Eliana’s gazes linger there on my bulge, and then we are moving. They move as one, as gaggles of giggling girls often can, and I trail behind in their wake as we make for the door. Our course takes us past Sydney’s table and her jaw drops slightly as she looks from the ladies to me and then my bulging crotch. I flash her what I hope is a winning smile, and then we’re gone. Outside of the dining room is a long hall, and when we reach the elevators I see a small darkened office behind a locked door.

Diana looks over her shoulder at me and winks, taking something from her small purse and slipping the lock. All three women slip inside and I follow. We leave the lights off and head through a short hallway to what seems to be a waiting room with a wide couch. Suddenly there’s a woman holding each of my arms, hustling me forward and sitting me down, and before I know it, all three of them are kneeling in front of me.

“Whoa,” I say, not particularly intelligently.

“We decided we were going to find someone tonight,” says Eliana, cozying up to my left leg.

“Someone to give an experience to,” says Diana, kneeling in front of me.

“If you want us to stop, just say so,” says Soledad, rubbing my right arm.

“We’re going to make you feel good,” says Diana from in between my knees, running her hands up and down my calves.

I open my mouth to say something, I’m not sure what.

“Don’t speak,” says Eliana, placing a finger on my lips. She leans in and kisses me softly, sliding a hand up my thigh. My breath comes out through my nose in a moan instead, and she smiles. I feel hands undoing my belt and hands unzipping my fly. Eliana unbuttons my shirt, and Soledad and Diana pull down my pants and boxers. I flop my head back. My cock stands up and Diana murmurs, “I knew he had something in there for us.”

“I’ve heard the stories too,” says Soledad.

I pick my head up, “Wha--”

“Shh,” says Eliana, again kissing me with her soft, full lips. I feel hands massaging my thighs, moving closer to my package as Eliana takes my cheeks in her hands and slips her tongue into my mouth. I take deep breaths to try and calm my heart rate, but before I even come close to that kind of mindfulness, I feel fingertips dancing along my balls and my cock. They trace and shift and tease before withdrawing. My field of vision is taken by Eliana’s lovely face as she passionately kisses me, and I feel a hand wrap around my balls and one wrap around my shaft, then another. Someone takes my hand and slips a finger into her mouth, probably Soledad, at which point I feel a tongue lick up the side of my cockhead.

The sensory overload is almost too much. Eliana swirls her tongue over mine and draws it out, sucking on it like a phallus, just as Soledad is doing to my fingers and just as Diana now starts doing to my cock. I feel my cock slip into her mouth, warm and wet, with the two hands gripping it holding firm but not stroking. Soledad moves from one finger to the next, teasing the tips with her tongue and teeth, licking up and down each side, giving each a hell of a blowjob individually before moving on to the next. My left arm finds Eliana’s tight ass and squeezes her butt cheeks, and I delight in the sensation of her firm but yielding flesh through the thin material of her dress.

Diana is sitting completely still, my cockhead enveloped in her mouth, just sucking steadily. Soledad takes three of my fingers in her mouth, wraps her lips around them and shoves them to the back of her mouth, gagging herself slightly, then drops them to her now apparently bare breast and presses my hand there. Eliana bites my lower lip and pulls, drawing my attention back to her. The pain is sharp but brief, and communicates her desire perfectly. I slide a hand down to Eliana’s bare thigh, feeling her smooth skin, and then move my hand up, taking her dress with it. I explore between her legs and find her bare pussy, already moist, and begin touching and feeling her lips there. I feel Diana pull off my cockhead and then a strange sensation that overwhelms me with pleasure but takes me a moment to decode: there are two sets of lips kissing and licking my cockhead.

Eliana kisses me deeply before moving down to my neck and beginning to kiss and lick the sensitive skin there. I open my eyes to see Soledad and Diana nose to nose with my cock disappearing in between their lips.

“Oh, fuck,” I whisper, and Diana and Soledad look up at me, Soledad with amusement and Diana with nothing but pure lust. Soledad’s dress is off one shoulder, exposing one of her pert breasts to the sexually supercharged air.

Eliana kisses across my neck and then makes it up to my left ear, causing me to shiver. “We’re gonna make you paint the ceiling with your cum,” she whispers, licking the edge of my ear. I slip a finger into her pussy and lightly move it around, feeling her wetness and relishing her heat. She alone is kneeling on the couch, and as she starts to kiss down my chest to join Diana and Soledad at my crotch, she keeps her pussy and ass raised within arms reach for me to play with and practically lays her face down on my thigh to get at my cock. I put my right hand in Soledad’s shoulder length dark hair and play with it as she licks my dick.

Diana and Soledad relinquish their grips on my cock and balls, and Diana dips her head to start licking my nutsack. Soledad meanwhile licks the side of my shaft as Eliana licks the other side. The lack of friction is a much needed respite if I hope to last more than two minutes with three hypnotically beautiful women putting their mouths on my package, and I once again breathe deeply to recover my stamina.

It really is an exercise in futility though, as all three of them are letting out little moans and coos of arousal and desire as they go about their business. Diana is being incredibly gentle with my balls, spoiling them with licks and sucks directed at one or the other in slow rotation. She sees me watching and straightens up, slipping her dress straps off her shoulders, flipping down her strapless bra to expose her tits. Her boobs are full with large nipples that cover most of the fronts and under any other circumstances I would insist upon tasting them, but tonight I am being swept along a river with a raging current and wouldn’t change its course if I could.

I ruck Eliana’s dress up further and then tug at her straps, which she happily shrugs off as well. Her dress is now bunched up around her stomach covering nothing but her midriff. Her small perky tits hang down and I slap her ass. She giggles and puts her mouth over the top of my cock briefly, causing me to buck my hips. I hear her relay in Spanish something about painting the ceiling, and Diana and Soledad giggle.

Diana sits up and wraps her hand around the base of my cock, then takes it into her mouth. She takes it about halfway in and then starts bobbing her head up and down at a slow pace, causing me to groan. Soledad sits up and Eliana plants her arms on the couch and rises a bit and they start making out right above Diana, giving me an impossibly sexy show. I put two fingers into Eliana’s pussy and she moans appreciatively, and use my right hand to cop another feel of Soledad’s tits. They are so firm and perky with puffy nipples that I tweak and twist lightly, causing her to moan back into Eliana’s mouth. Diana is still sucking my cock as I watch the stunning Mexican girl to my left and the enchanting Cuban girl to my right start to get their tongues into each other’s mouths. I start lightly teasing Eliana’s clit with my left hand, and drop my right hand to Soledad’s ass and give it a squeeze.

“Oh,” says Eliana softly, and pushes herself back against my hand. I spank Soledad and she giggles, putting a hand on my chest and scratching her long nails lightly through my chest hair. I put a hand on her back and pull her down to me, placing my hand in her hair at the back of her head and looking into her unique eyes for a long moment before kissing her. I feel Eliana drop down and tuck her head against my thigh to lick my balls as I make out with Soledad. Diana starts to quicken her pace and I moan into Soledad’s mouth.

Soledad turns to Diana. “Ay mami, he’s gonna vengo quick if you chupa too fast, Diana!”

“Despacito,” murmurs Eliana softly, licking my nuts distractedly while I play with her pussy.

Diana giggles and pulls off a bit, loosening her grip and licking my shaft. “He doesn’t complain.”

I am plunging two fingers into Eliana’s pussy now, and she is whimpering and rocking back against my hand. I let it build for her, occasionally swiping across her clit and making her cry out softly. Soledad is kissing me hard, her tongue dancing across my lips and then licking across mine as I clutch at her ass. Diana licks playfully at my head, making me twitch. I diddle Eliana’s clit and she whimpers louder and stiffens.

“Me venga!” she cries and shakes. I feel wetness on my fingers and she stops licking my balls, eyes shut and brow furrowed.

Diana looks impressed. “Even while I suck his cock he makes Eliana come!”

Soledad kisses me hard and then slides back off the couch. “Let’s take him there.”

Eliana smiles up at me, cheek on my thigh, and then slides off the couch as well.

All three topless beauties press in, pushing my legs together a bit and surrounding my cock with their faces. All three start licking and sucking at the head and shaft while Diana grips the base firmly, giving me something to push against. Their tongues are everywhere, pleasuring my manhood, and as much from the sight as the feeling I find myself drawing closer. Diana is looking straight at me, Soledad’s eyes are shut and Eliana is glancing at me warmly, almost tenderly from time to time. Their tongues and lips occasionally touch one another, sending a little electric thrill through me each time.

“C’mon, papi,” says Diana.

“Cover us,” murmurs Soledad, making her tongue flat and wagging her head back and forth.

“Mami necesita tu leche,” says Eliana, and the tender look in her eyes is what does it for me.

As they each slather my cockhead with their tongues, I erupt in a fountain. Cum spurts up, splattering over Diana’s head and face, splashing in her hair and down her forehead into her left eye. The second shot creams Soledad’s face and the third gets Eliana’s tongue and the tip of her nose. The cum continues frothing out, covering their tongues and lips as they smile and Soledad squeals with delight. Diana moans and I see she’s touching herself. An errant spurt of cum splatters Diana’s cheek and she cums herself, resting her pouted lips against the underside of my cockhead as Eliana swipes her tongue across the top, sweeping away a large bead of cum and tasting it. The last shot to get any distance goes up Soledad’s face into her hair while she pouts her lips out and she shakes her head lightly back and forth, blowing into the cum that runs down my cock on every side. Diana’s hand gripping my shaft is absolutely covered. Eliana shifts to get above my dick and takes the tip into her mouth to suck on it as my orgasm subsides.

“Ay dios mio,” says Soledad, “he didn’t paint the ceiling, he painted us!”

Diana has so much cum in her long eyelashes that she can only open one eye. “Muy caliente, chingame,” she moans.

Eliana looks over at me as she sucks me dry, something smoldering in her eyes. I don’t think she and I are done for the night.

“Hijole, señoritas,” I say and Soledad laughs. “That was fucking incredible.”

“I think we have to go clean up,” says Soledad. “Diana, take my hand and I’ll lead you. Rapido, before Eliana wakes the monster again!”

Eliana is still gently sucking on me, looking up into my eyes.

Diana laughs as Soledad helps her up.

“Gracias por tu leche,” Diana says, squinting at me from one eye and waving.

“Si, muchisimas gracias por tu dulce leche,” giggles Soledad, and they slip out the door as I wave back.

🤍🤍🤍

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